# Shilsen's Eberron SH (Finished - The Last Word : 9/20/15)



## Rackhir

Written by Shilsen
3/29/05

How they met:
The youngest of the four, Mithral 6 of 6 was created only in 992 YK. Built for speed and with scouting abilities unlike the majority of warforged, he ended up in an elite unit of the Cyran military, which specialized in tracking down individuals infiltrating Cyre as well as deserters and others seeking to cross its borders illegally. Another member of the unit was Corven ir'Lanya Deneith, a Deneith descendant but not a member of the house. Corven's more urban investigative skills and his artificer abilities worked well in conjunction with M66's skills and they often found themselves assigned missions together and a friendship developed. 

In 994 YK, the pair were among a small team pursuing fugitives across the Droaam border when the Day of Mourning occurred. Hurrying back towards the Cyran border, they were met with scores of refugees who had barely survived the cataclysm. Among the refugees was a man they recognized, a wizard who had been part of another Cyran unit. Though they did not know him personally, they had been told his name was Edgar. The man they met looked just like Edgar, but he persisted in claiming to be called Nameless and displayed no memory of them or anything before the Day of Mourning. Other survivors said that he had come wandering out of the mists that had engulfed Cyre a good two days after the cataclysm.  

The refugees fled west, trying to reach the Breland border before the goblinoid hordes of Darguun could catch them, and ended up in a series of running battles (during which they discovered that Nameless was a mage) and were driven further south. By the time they managed they managed to reach the Seawall mountains, only half were alive and less than a quarter eventually made it across into Zilargo. There, they were promptly placed in refugee-cum-prison camps, but at least that was better than a Darguun cookpot. Corven, Mithral 6 of 6 and Nameless all survived, learning to depend on each other's skills in the process.

Gareth Byron Deneith, meanwhile, had been fighting in the north of Cyre among the Deneith forces hired by Karrnath. With the death of his father Byron in the Battle of Grace, he was back in Karrlakton when the Day of Mourning occurred. He continued to fight until the Treaty of Thronehold ended the War in 996. Not interested in joining House Deneith and wishing to find out more about his father's sword, he headed south, planning to see whether the Library of Korranberg in Zilargo had any relevant information about the sword.

Serendipitously, he found himself on the streets of Dragonroost at the same time as Corven, M66 and Nameless (just having been allowed to leave the refugee camp with the War over). The latter three discovered Gareth just as a group of muggers were attacking him and the group found themselves fighting together for the first time. Corven was searching for news of other survivors from his family and following a rumor that a cousin was in Trolanport, planning to take a ship to Sharn (where hundreds of Cyran refugees had ended up) from there, while M66 and Nameless were accompanying him. Gareth received a vision during that first night with the others, hearing a voice from within a silver flame telling him that their paths lay together, so he joined them. 

The four headed south to Trolanport, and finding no sign of Corven's cousin, hired on as extra muscle on the sailing ship Wild Duck, heading to Sharn. The rest, as they say, was history. Strange, portentous, heroic, painful and very often hysterically amusing, but history nevertheless...


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## shilsen

This is a 3.5e Eberron campaign, which we began in March 2005. We generally play weekly but have missed a few here and there, plus I was out of the country for a few months last summer, so we're currently at just over 25 sessions (PCs have moved from 3rd to 8th lvl). For the most part it's a core rules game, though I do a number of things differently as far as mechanics are concerned, such as just awarding a fixed amount of XP per session rather than basing it on encounters and CR, or using a slightly varied action point system (which includes taking death mostly out of the equation). I've commented on a number of these issues in my posts throughout the thread.

On a non-mechanical angle, it's a roleplaying-heavy character-driven game. I didn't set out with a planned plot arc or adventures but rather threw out a bunch of plot hooks and let the campaign develop from the PCs' choices. Those choices also intersect with the backgrounds of the various PCs, with me throwing in background-related material and the PCs being free to interact with and develop on them or not, as they choose. It helps that the PCs (players?) are all somewhat mental, so they create adventure opportunities and get themselves in trouble way more than I could have envisioned. We only have a single combat or two per session (sometimes none at all), so they tend to be significantly tough and challenging. I'm an admitted powergamer (though I police myself a lot) and ruleslawyer, so I get to indulge those as DM too.

These writeups (mine, that is, not AviLazar's, which are an in-character journal) weren't actually designed for a story hour but were actually session recaps for the players. That's why the first few are dry and mostly in point form until I started gradually expanding them for the later ones. The recent ones are the most readable, though I still wouldn't consider them anywhere near what they could be. I'm currently DMing another Eberron game along with this one, as well as playing in Mallus' CITY campaign (also on the Story Hour forum as "The Chronicle of Burne and Other Less Important People") and Michael Tree's M&M game, so I tend to have more than enough gaming stuff to distract me from giving the writing angle more time. 

Still, I hope you find these stories entertaining. And if you have any comments or questions, please post. I'm on ENWorld for hours daily, so you can expect a quick reply. Plus it helps massage my little writerly ego  

Shil

P.S. In the interests of making stuff easier to find here and to help out new readers, here are a few spots you can jump right to:

Arrival in Sharn (Session 1)

Luna joins the group (Session 5)

Meeting people in Sharn (Session 8)

Raiding Daask in Undersharn (Session 14)

Off to Xen'drik (Session 19)

Dragons and Daelkyr (Session 25)

Back in Sharn and the arrival of Korm (Session 26)

Why You Should Fear Goblinoids in Eberron (Session 31)

Yarkuun Draal, City of Aberrations (Session 33)

Rescuing your mage from an army of aberrations (Session 36)

Learning the secret of the Shard (Session 40)

Climax: Fighting rakshasas inside a pool of lava on the hand of a bound rajah (Session 45)


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## Rackhir

Written by AviLazar
3/28/05

Arrival
-------

Feeling the sea-spray against my skin, smelling the fresh sea air, I enjoy the sunny day.  We are soon to arrive to the City of Towers - Sharn!  After travelling with my companions for a long time, we agreed that it would be best to stay in Sharn for a time.  It will be good to finally call a place home!  Sharn, I hear is an amazing city built out of the cliffs supported by vast powers of magic, and a definite place that obeys order and law.  It will be interesting to explore this new place, and hopefully, find my holy quest.

As we start to see land, I hear Edgar, or Nameless as he likes to be called, scream and I turn around in time to see a commotion over the side of the bow.  I just barely see that we are attacked, and Nameless is screaming "Sea Devils".  I rush up in front of Nameless, drawing my sword and acting as a shield for him.  While Nameless does have a keen intellect, and his spells serve us well - he is not exactly bred for combat.  Out of the corner of my eye I see a bigger, meaner and certainly uglier Saughin come out of the other side of the bow.  Realizing he may kill the Captain and then capsize the boat, I rush over to guard the captain.  With the Saughin occupied by the two boat guards, I think Nameless will be well protected.

I just make it to the Captains deck to get in between him and the bigger Saughin, and the thing attacks me with his trident.  It does do a little bit of damage, but this vile creature will soon know that Kizmet and the power of the Silver Flame is not one to be trifled with!  I call upon the power of my god, and smash Kizmet onto the shoulder of this wretched creature making him wince and drop his trident.  He seems to be infuriated, good, anger is the first step to the foolish mistakes that evil always make!  Some of my companions, Six of Six and Corven, are fighting some more creatures behind me.  They look like they are about to come to my aid, by I tell them that I have this one covered and they should not leave their opponents for this one. Right then this creature leaps at me clawing and biting, he slashes at my face, I return a quick swing, a hasty swing and miss him!!!  I refocus, this creature is beneath the Silver Flame and will die easily!  I see Six of Six walk up from behind this creature and he
smashes him, dealing an almost lethal blow.  The creature is not quite dead, so I put him out of his wretched misery.

Turning around it seems that the rest of the group dispatched the other monsters, while some others fled.  I hear from one of the boat gaurds that Nameless tried climbing up the ropes for some unknown reason and fell on his back.  I tend to his wounds, as well as one of the boatsman who seems very ungrateful.  We search the bodies and find that the bigger creature had a masterwork trident with some etchings of his people.  I figure we can sell this weapon for a few gold pieces as none of us can or wish to use it.  Corven insists that we research the item, claiming that these creatures must have been supplied such a fine quality weapon.  I, honestly, do not think these creatures are so simple minded that they cannot create masterwork equipment, but I do not argue with Corven...arguing with family, afterall, never leads to anything good.

Upon arriving into the bay at Sharn we are greeted by tiny little draggons flying around and eating the fish that are left floating on the wake of the boat.  The city is more amazing then the stories I have read.  Before departing, the boat captain informs us that he would like for us to travel with him again.  We let him know that if we do leave, we will inform him.  We disembark and are greeted by the Custom's police who question us.  In turn we question them about place that we need to get to.  Six of Six is not a talkative sort but he keeps asking the customs officers as to how much boat guards make.

We travel into the dock a little and are swarmed by a group of homeless children.  Realizing such tactics, I quickly grab my purse to not give them a chance to fleece me.  My god reveals to me that many of these kids bear the taint of evil, but all of them want to offer me some kind of service.  Sifting through the rut, we hire a boy to be our guide.  He asks for 5 silver pieces, I am sure a price higher then normal - but I figure if it makes him happy, he will be much more loyal to us.  We travel into the town and first take one of the floating coaches to the Church of the Silver Flame.  When we arrive there Corven quickly goes to prayer while I speak to the priest of some private things.  Six of Six, again, starts questioning people about the cost of boat guardsman, but also asks about the cost of guides.  We find out that a child guide generally receives 1 silver per day.  After speaking we head outside and Six walks to the boy and questions him about the actual costs of a guide.  I inform Six that we made
 a deal with the boy, and that we are honorbound to keep it - Six did not respond - I am sure he is not happy about it, but a deal is a deal.

From there we go to the ambassader section of Sharm where my three companions, all from Seer, speak to their representatives.  I pity these people who no longer have a home to call their own, but am inspired by their staunch loyalty - an admirable quality I am sure.  They ask some questions and from there we leave to go to House Denith.

When we arrive at the House we are escorted inside and meet with twin sisters who seem a bit dismayed that I and Corven do not work for the family.  To help with my credentials, I mention my family lineage.  They vaguely know of my fathers name, but they seem to have heard about the Battle of Grace.  COrven informs them he is willing to work for the family, and I inform them that I would work for the family as long as the cause was just and good.  They tell us that they we should return on the 'morrow for our orders.  They would also, apparantly, like to practice combat skills with me in some future point.

After exiting House Denieth, we relize that we are all famished from our travels.  We head to a local restaurant, one that is concealed behind a bigger building.  Nameless makes comments how this place must be the hiding spot for the rich, as it seems very quaint but the menu is both rich in flavor and variety - Nameless even got to eat some tenticles!  We informed our expensive guide, Bodo, that he may join us for lunch and he seems very ecstatic.  He eats more then ever, and that is fine with me.  We talk about issues at hand and our next plans of action.  I suggest that we head to the wizards guild and then to find an inn.

When we arrive at the Wizards guild, Nameless opens the doorway for us with one of his spells. I would wager getting in would be hard without his magical aptitude.  We are greated by a secretary who seems very friendly.  She summons one of the wizard members who takes us to his private study.  I ask him about Kizmet, my fathers holy avenger.  He reads the lines on the sword and does some tests.  He informs me that while Kizmet was once a great and powerful sword, it is not longer such, but it seems like an item that will gain in power as it becomes more attuned to its wielder.  It also seems to be a heritage sword bound to a certain line.  This sword did belong to my grandfather, then to my father, and now to me so this would seem to make sense.  The wizard kindly informs me that until it becomes magical again, it is susceptable to all the damage of a non-magical weapon.  I keep that in mind - I would hate for such an heirloom to break, though I would definitly have it reforged!

We leave to go to the inn, where we tell Bodo that we could use his services in the morning again.  We tell him, however, we will only pay 2 silver plus food per day.  He seems a bit dismayed, but quickly realizes that we are paying him more then he would normally make and the deal we are offering is very good for him.  I think, I will find out if he has a place to call his own.  If the poor child is living on the street, it would be right of us to house him.  Eventually, if we stay in Sharn long enough, we will need to purchase a home, and to have someone take care of it for us while we are on our travels would not be bad.

Upon morning, we wake up and get ready.  When leaving, we see that Bodo is outside and waiting for us.  I am sure he came early so we wouldn't leave without him.  We head back to House Deneith and are greeted by the clerk of the house.  He informs us of what the house needs...apparantly in the lower levels of the city, in a place called lower Dura there was a rich merchant who was on business and got himself in a bit of trouble.  I do not know what this business was, but the clerk seemed a bit fishy about it.  I was not going to question him further as he probably does not know all of the details, and once we reach the bottom I could determine what was going on.

We left the house, with a map, and proceeded to the entrance, Bodo showing us where this place is - though I will not let him follow us in the lower areas as it would be too dangerous.


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## Rackhir

Written by Shilsen

*Session 1 - Introduction to Sharn*
* The PCs are traveling to Sharn (from Trolanport in Zilargo) on a sailing ship called the Wild Duck, having worked out a deal with Captain Vail that they will pay half fares and receive food in return for working as guards. When close to the Hilt, the wide bay at the mouth of the Dagger River that Sharn sits on, the ship is attacked before dawn by sahuagin, who use grappling hooks to board the ship. The PCs kill half a dozen, including a particularly tough one with a masterwork trident, before the rest flee. Only one of the other guards on the ship is killed in the attack.

* Continuing on, the Wild Duck enters the Hilt, passing fortresses on either side. Nearing the cliffs Sharn stands on, the ship passes a boat town at the edge of the docks consisting of rafts, houseboats & other craft connected by a web of piers, gangplanks and rope bridges (called Ship's Towers, one of the two waterfront districts). Passing Ship's Towers and the slum area behind it, consisting of a cliff face with cave openings in it and small hovels around them (Mud Caves), the ship continues north, attracting a small swarm (couple dozen) of tiny dragons, iridescent white in color, called spiretop dragons.

* Ship continues north to a larger dock section (Grayflood). Guided by smaller boats to dock. As PCs are leaving, Captain Vail welcomes them to travel with him any time and says he will probably be in Sharn for a week. PCs disembark, to be met by a waiting group, first by some (from the Wharf Watch) asking what items they are transporting and asking for identification. When they discover the PCs are foreigners, pass them on to others in the group (from the Guardians of the Gate). They ask the PCs about their business in the city and tell them the Guardians will help as needed (HQ is in Black Arch district, in Lower Tavick's Landing). They pay particular attention to Gareth and Corven as Deneith people and tell them that the main Deneith enclave is in Dragon Towers (Middle Central Plateau). Also tell the Cyran PCs that there are many Cyrans in the High Walls area (Lower Tavick's Landing) and that the Cyran embassy is in Ambassador Tower (Middle Central).

* PCs continue into Grayflood. Meet youngsters clamoring to guide them into city and accept one called Bodo as guide. Bodo gets them a skycoach and they fly to Middle Central Plateau.

* Traveling around Middle Central, the PCs stop in turn at the Cathedral of the Cleansing Flame (Sovereign Towers district), the Cyran embassy (Ambassador Towers) and the Deneith enclave (Dragon Towers). At the Cathedral of the Cleansing Flame, Gareth speaks to an acolyte (named Golar) about the Cathedral, learning that it is run by Archieropant Ythana Morr, a powerful cleric of the Silver Flame. At the Cyran embassy, Corven asks whether any of his family (ir'Lanya) survived and are in Sharn/Breland, and is told that the clerk will look into it and let him know if he returns the next day. At the Deneith enclave the PCs speak to a pair of female twins called Lalia and Tasra d'Deneith, who are both Sentinel Marshals. Lalia doesn't seem impressed by Corven and Gareth not working for the house but is eventually persuaded to try to find any freelance/mercenary work for them (and mentions that there is some problem in the Cogs that may need looking into). 6 of 6 keeps asking people how much a boat guard makes, while Nameless is talking to his rock! 

* The PCs walk to Middle Dura (seeing a falling man get saved by a feather fall spell on the way) and up to the Clifftop district of Upper Dura. Bodo takes them to a small but very good restaurant called Kavv's, which serves Xen'drik food, run by a husband & wife pair (Saza and Taji Kavv) from Stormreach. After the meal, the PCs visit the Esoteric Order of Aureon and Gareth speaks to a sage called Harned about his sword, learning that it may have latent powers that will reveal themselves in time. 

* Heading down to Middle Dura and the inn district of Underlook, the PCs find an average inn called the Healthy Harvest (innkeeper named Palk) and get rooms, and send Bodo off with instructions to return the next day. After wandering around the area a bit, they pack up for the night. 

* The next morning, they get up to find Bodo waiting and head off to the Deneith enclave, where a clerk tells them that there is a commission for them. People have been disappearing from lower Dura, mostly vagrants but recently a rich merchant down there on "personal" business. Some members of the City Council have authorized an investigation and the PCs are asked to go check out the area and report back with any discoveries they make. They are provided with a map and directions.

*Session 2 - Things that go "bump, gibber, gibber, smack, slash, aaargh!" in the night*

* The PCs are told that the missing merchant was using the alias Durij and was probably in the Silvermist dream parlor, a place that uses illusions to entertain. It is suggested that they ask around about any more recent disappearances (Durij disappeared over a week ago) and are told of a nearby bar/inn called the Cracked Mirror, where information might be available. They are given directions to an abandoned access shaft leading down to the Cogs nearby, which House Deneith just found out about, and which may have been used by the miscreants. A little persuasion gets the clerk to say that the merchant was possibly down there for illegal reasons. 

* Heading down to Lower Dura and the Callestan district, the PCs find that it is a very seedy inn district, with a large shifter population. They first visit the Silvermist parlor, where a woman named Jix (probably the manager) gives them some information about Durij being a regular customer and a description (red hair and beard), which Six makes a drawing of. Nameless gives her some money & asks her to find out any information that she can. 

* Deciding to skip the inn, the PCs are accosted while passing near it by a young shifter who tries to pick a fight with Gareth ("damn Flamer!"). Gareth puts a bit of a scare in him and he calls for help to someone called Gorlick, who emerges from the Cracked Mirror, turning out to be a much bigger, tougher-looking shifter. The latter is more irritated than belligerent and the PCs diplomatically talk him into having a drink with him. The PCs buy drinks for everyone at the bar (which has a large number of shifters and at least two evident changelings), quickly becoming more popular - esp. with Bodo, who sneaks two drinks before Gareth notices. Gorlick, apparently known locally as Redtooth, seems quite friendly, and much more so than the younger shifter (his brother Arian). Upon inquiry, the PCs discover that an old beggar disappeared a couple days before. They are told that violence and disappearances are common in Lower Dura.

* Leaving the inn, they find the garbage dump that hides the old access shaft and tell Bodo to return to their inn, the Happy Harvest. Once he leaves, they open and enter the shaft. They find that it is old and rubble-strewn from parts that have collapsed, but usable, angling down underground. After searching the entrance area, find a smear of dried blood and some grayish slime. Corven examines it and says that it came from a live person and that it is mixed as if the wound was caused by a slime-coated weapon. 

* Continuing on, they travel for about a mile, passing areas where vertical shafts open into it from far above and getting closer to the rumbling and heat of the Cogs. Eventually, they emerge at one side of a large cavern, which is split in two by lava pools and streams, with a stone bridge crossing it. Reaching the bridge, they talk to a couple of guards and carters driving wagons across the bridge. They find no information about disappearances but do hear rumors about violence against warforged in one of the other areas. They are also told about the two other Cogs areas besides Ashblack (the industrial district where they are) - Blackbones (also industrial, but with a greater warforged population) and Khyber's Gate (apparently full of strange creatures which can't exist on the surface of Sharn). They are also told about some of the criminal elements in Sharn, esp. the Boromar clan of halflings who used to dominate its underworld and the new group called Daask, consisting of monstrous creatures (many of whom live in Khyber's Gate).

* Before leaving, they cross the bridge and find a large cavern where people live and work. They see a dwarf overseer called Berek yelling at and punishing some warforged. He seems irritated at the interruption & says he has no idea about the disappearances but does confirm he heard about a warforged being found dead. He seems to view the warforged as tools, asking if Six is for sale.

* Leaving the area, they head back into the access tunnel. When halfway to the surface, they hear a loud crashing sound from a shaft above them and get out of the way, just before a dead warforged falls out. Someone has cut off its hands, scorched it badly and bashed in its side, chest and head. A strange raised metal section on its left forearm looks like someone cut something off it and its battered mouth has stylized fangs. Corven examines it and says that it was killed only minutes ago and that the head blow (probably from a mace or flail) killed it. Six rigs up a rope to it and drags it behind him.

* When they are about a minute from the opening, some of the PCs hear the sounds of movement up ahead. Multiple people begin to shoot at them from out of the darkness ahead and they engage in battle. The enemies turn out to be a combination of aberrations (which Nameless identifies), consisting of a dolgaunt (a large, pale creature with no eyes and two long tentacles), half a dozen dolgrim (squat, four-armed creatures with two heads squeezed into one) and two chokers (like hairless, naked halflings with long tentacular arms). Nameless catches most of the creatures in one place with a web spell and incapacitates some of the dolgrim with sleep. Two of the dolgrim turn out to be spellcasters, but do little damage, other than confusing Six for a bit. Despite taking some significant damage, Gareth cuts the dolgaunt in half and dispatches many of the others with Six's help. After having used some spells, Nameless is attacked by one of the chokers that sneaks up on him climbing along the ceiling, which knocks him down, chokes him, bashes his head against the floor and renders him unconscious. Corven has a very hard time using his wands and settles for attacking the choker with a mace. Finally, all the creatures are killed, except for one sleeping dolgrim, which is tied up. The last to fall is a dolgrim which manages to get to what is probably a secret door and trying to open it, when a screaming figure charges it and stabs it through the ear*. The attacker turns out to be Bodo, who is then scolded by Gareth for disobeying orders, given one of the dolgrims' shield and morningstar and sent off again.

* After the requisite healing, the PCs open the secret door and pass through, finding a tunnel running parallel to the shat beyond it. Continuing along it, they hear a weird gibbering up ahead, which mentally affects Six, causing him to attack and wound Gareth. The gibbering turns out to come from a weird ooze-like creature that perpetually grows dozens of mouths and eyes, which Nameless identifies as a gibbering mouther. The PCs have a difficult fight, partly because of the weird creature's resistance to their non-bludgeoning weapons, and partly because of its multiple abilities. It spits acid at them (blinding Six right after he comes out of the confusion), bites at and fastens onto them with multiple (albeit weak) mouths and tries to drag them down. Nameless uses his last web to keep it held in one place and summons a fiendish wolf, which is forced to flee due to the gibbering. Gareth is bitten, grabbed, engulfed, and has a substantial amount of blood sucked out of him, only surviving due to his divine vigor and the one time Corven manages to heal him with a wand. Six is comparatively much less damaged, being distracted by the confusion and momentary blindness. Corven is still unable to use** his wands other than the one time and disgustedly gives one to Nameless, who blasts the creature with scorching rays from it till the mouther dies. 

* Wounded, tired and low on resources, the group heads back to the surface, taking the dead warforged and the dolgrim (which they knock out) with them. Getting a cart to put their 'trophies' on, they quickly draw a crowd as they head towards the higher levels and are stopped by a guard patrol before even reaching Middle Dura. They have to wait till their claim of being on a job for House Deneith is verified and a skycoach is obtained to quickly transport them to Middle Central. Reaching Dragon Towers and the Deneith enclave, they are met by a number of guards and Lalia d'Deneith. She has the warforged and dolgrim taken away and finds out everything that has occurred. She thanks the group and tells them to return to their inn and rest, promising that a reward will be sent to them. 

* Natural 20 plus 20 to confirm!
** At least a dozen rolls below 10 during the two fights.


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## Rackhir

Written by Avi Lazar
4/5/05

After we were relayed our mission from House Deneith we checked our inventory and made sure we were ready to head down to the Cogs.  We would first need to head through the poorer areas of Sharn, which we were warned of.  Our young guide, Bodo, keeps asking to join us - but I must be adamant that he not enter the Cogs with us...I am uncomfortable as it is having him around us when we go into the slums.

We take a sky cab down to the slums, and then head to a bar called the "Silvermist Parlor".  This place apparantly offers fantasy services via the Changelings who use their abilities to changeshape.  I cannot say that I would partake of these services, but as long as nobody is getting hurt then it is OK.  We meet a person, Jix,  working in  this bar who happens to be the manager.  We speak in private, and with Nameless' help are able to convince the manager we mean him no harm.  Once the conversation gets underway, however, it became a game of subterfuge and subtleties.  Everyone was speaking "if I knew this person and if I was inclinde to speak..." which is very frustrating, very slow, and if meant to throw would-be-spies off if they were scrying us - very ineffective.  Finally I cannot bear it anymore and I inform Jix to just stop with the silly rants and to tell us what he knows about this Durij fellow - to be forthcoming.  I inform him we do not have the answers, and we do not know many of the answers.  Jix finally informs us of some things, including a description, and Nameless gives him a bag full of gold for any extra information.

We make our way to the Cogs and become accousted by a Changeling who I noticed loitering near another bar.  He attempted to insult me by calling me "Flamer".  He does not realize that I am above such petty insults, and that it would take a lot more then unoriginal name-calling to get me to raise an eyebrow.  I, however, decided it would be best to be diplomatic about it- these poor folks have suffered under some factions of the Silver Flame's church, and I can understand, if not condone, their greif.  I explain to the person that I appologize for past wrongs, and that we mean him and his kind no ill-will.  I turn around and begin to continue walking, letting my companions know that everything is OK.  This changling continues to follow us getting very close, and starts calling me more names.  These petty insults do not bother me, but his proximity to me does.  I turn around, I apparantly am much taller then this person, and inform him that we mean him no harm - and he does not want to fight me.  He seems a little bit scared, but apparantly not scared enough.  He starts calling to his friends, and a crowd draws near - something I did not want.  I wish people would call the law instead - I would much prefer a fight not arise - where many innocents might get hurt.

A few seconds later and a big Changeling, by the name of Gorlick appears from the bar carrying a huge axe.  He swaggers up and asks what is going on.  I inform him that we mean nobody no harm and are just trying to pass through.  The smaller Changeling informs the larger that we threatened him, and Nameless pipes in saying that we were not threatening him - just wondering if he had a wish to live a shorter life.  Nameless and me then start mock arguing with each other which throws the larger Changeling off, and 6 of 6 then enters the conversation, with a surprisingly witty ploy and starts asking the larger Changeling if he has seen a person, and shows him a picture that he drew earlier.  The larger Changeling being totally taken aback with this turns to his little friend and starts harassing him.  The larger Changeling invites us into the bar and says he will help us out if we buy him a drink.

We enter the bar and the crowd turns to see Gorlick, which is no surprise to them...then when they see me they are taken aback.  The bar quiets down and I get a lot of evil stares, and I would venture that at least 90% don't want me there, 10% are wondering what would drive one such as me to enter the bar, and everyone probably taking bets to see if I make it out alive.

Nameless asks how much it would cost to buy the bar a round of drinks, 1 silver, and I immediately slap down 1 gold coin and inform the bar tender to keep everyone here fed and drunk until the gold coin runs out.  I normally do not like to steals someones thunder, and good idea, but I think I need to raise my popularity with these people a little more then Nameless.  Everyone is surprised, but they are happy and they cheer...then after cheering, they realized what they did and they seem to be going through some kind of apoplexi---they just cheered for a "Flamer".

We speak with the Gorlick, and we found out the other Changelings name is "Arian" who is his brother.  We find out a bit of information with what is going on in this area.  We even talk about what has happend in the past, especially with the Silver Flame church persecuting Changelings.  I am asked if I know the church in Sharn and say that I have been there once...I am also told that the head priest there had his share of harassing these people.  I inform them that I will have words with the priest.  On a side note, if the priest did act out of line, I will have to impose justice on him.  There is no excuse for this corruption which is does nothing but to hinder the church.  I wonder why the Silver Flame & Tira Miron do not do something about this corruption.  I am also told that maybe I should not walk around with my holy symbols, and I inform our new friend that I am proud of who and what I am and that I would not hide this fact.  I am given an appreciative nod of approval.  We part on good terms, and maybe I will be able to count this man as my friend one day.

Heading to the warhouse we search for the hidden entrance and find one.  We tell Bodo that he must head back to the house and he bemoans that he should get to join us.  I tell him a lie, something I loathe to do but realize is necessary at times, that we are waiting for a message at the inn and he should wait there to receive it for us.  After a bit of argument he agrees.

We head into the Cogs and make our way down the corridor.  It is nice to have these magical lights.  I see, however, that 6of6 got a light made to attach to a head-lamp - sort of like what miners use.  I will have to have one made as it will help keep my hands free and provide light to whatever direction I am looking.  We follow the path for a while and I do notice things are getting warmer.

Finally we reach an opening and we see lava flows to our sides.  We also see a bunch of humanoids at a bridge and we walk over to them.  It is apparantly a merchant cart with his gaurds.  We ask about our target and they tell us they do not know who we are speaking of.  We are told to go see a dwarf nearby who is "twice as wide as he is tall"

We follow the directions and find this dwarf -Berek-, who does apparantly fit those dimensions.  He is surrounded by an umber of War Forged, which 6 of 6 tries to speak to.  Something seems a bit different about these War Forged, maybe they were earlier models and do not have a soul like 6 of 6.  Maybe they are just constructs.  The dwarf seems to mistreat his War Forged and 6 of 6 gets offended and starts scoulding the dwarf - who ignores him.  6 of 6's voice also seems to get distorted and he seems to be speaking in a funny, choppy tone - maybe this heat is not good for him?

We leave the dwarf and start heading back through the tunnels - with no information - and we suddenly hear a loud clanking sound and move just out of the way - of a falling War Forged.  This one seems to be dead and it appears that it wasn't due to the fall.  Something killed this War Forged, a large model, and throw him down one of the shafts.  6 of 6 straps him to his back and starts hauling him back with us.

As we make our way we encounter these aberrations - about Dolgrim and one Dolgaunt.  I have heard of them before, and Nameless informs us they are resistant to our weapons by a significant amount. Some of the Dolgrim were spellcasters and managed to confuse 6 of 6, but it quickly wore off.  Nameless then proceeds to cast a spell of web and sleep on those monsters holding them firmly in place.  I cast another healing spell on myself, while Corven tries to heal me - but his wand still will not work.  He simply must learn how to use it if he plans on being effective.  6 of 6 breaks out of his confusion and charges up with me  - I tell him that I need him to stand up in the front ranks behind me as I cannot take all the hits on my own.  He likes to use his spiked chain at a distance, but this leaves me vulnerable.

Hanging on the ceiling is a halfing sized version of one of these creatures and it tries to latch on to me, and almost succeeds.  I try to walk up to it but am too busy to deal with the other creatures.  This small creature then strides over to Nameless and proceeds to beat on him.  Corven is still trying to heal me, and 6 of 6 is helping me bash through the monsters.  The larger creature in the back is using its tentacles to attack me from a distance.

Finally the front rank is destroyed and we are left with the two in the back and the Dolgaunt.  I walk up to it - stepping into the web- and calling on the power of the Silver Flame I smite it a powerful blow. It reels from the hit and I am no longer plauged by its hideousness.  I proceed to turn around and beat on it's former friends slaying them with my fathers sword, Kizmet.  At this point 6 of 6 and Corven run to help out Nameless who fell due to the hits of the halfing sized Dolgrim. 6 of 6 dispatches him as Corven heals Nameless. 6 of 6, in a quick move runs after one of the Dolgrim that tries to get away - but we hear the creature scream.  Apparantly Bodo followed us in here.  He hit the creature pretty well, but I scold him for not obeying my orders. I inform him, that not listening to me would mean we would no longer need his services and he would not be welcome to join us.  We hand him some leather armour and a small sword from one of the creatures.  I then instruct him to head back to the inn, and I give him a no-nonsense look.  I heal the group members, as well as myself, and Corven also lends a hand with his wand.  We find a few magical items which we cannot tell what they are.  I stow them away in my bag for safe keeping in case they are magical.

We kill the rest of the sleeping Dolgrim with the exception of one which we beat into submission until it passes out.  We tie it up and head through the secret doors the monsters came from.  We then see a big amorpheous creature, Nameless says he is called a "Giberring Mouther".  I raise Kizmet to the sky and call upon the power of the Silver Flame, infusing me with faster movement and greater health.  The creature confuses Six of Six and he turns and hits me with his spiked chain.  I cast a healing spell on myself, and ask Corven to heal me - and he still has problems with his wand, although he assured me he fixed the problem!!!  Six of Six breaks out of the confusion.  Six of Six and me step up to attack the Gibbering Mouther and it seems to spit acid at our eyes.  It hits me in the face but does not affect me, while Six of Six becomes blinded.  He tries to back out of the fight but runs into Corven - he then keeps repeating "Please move side, please move aside." I do not know what is wrong with Six of Six, he is starting to sound more and more like a construct which is quite disconcerting.  Nameless summons a web on this creature, holding it in place, and then brings about a fiendish wolf.  On a side note, I wish that Nameless would not summon such evil creatures.  Bringing such a creature into existance can simply do no good in the long run.  The problem with working with evil, is that eventually it corrupts and consumes.

We continue to trade hits with this creature - which seems partially immune to our weapons.  Finally Six of Six is able to regain his sight and steps away from the creature - leaving me to fight it alone...it attacks me, grabs me and sucks me into it's insides.  I thought I would not survive and that I stood no chance of escaping the insides of this creature, as it kept biting me over and over and over again.  It's stomach acides burning me and I could do nothing to strike it!  I was not only getting injured but was feeling weak that my health was failing me.  With the Divine Grace of the Silver Flame I strived for one last bit of energy and clawed my way out, one step at a time, fighting against its tentacles when I finally broke out of the belly of the beast.  Covered in it's slime, I stand up, and see that Nameless has Corven's fire wand.  He is using it effectively and Corven is still failing at healing me.  Six of Six and I start to beat on this creature, and finally Nameless is able to take him out with
 the fire wand.

We gather some evidence, and Corven scoops up some of the body fluid of this creature.  Six of Six wanted to continue forward, but I informed him that I was in no condition to proceed, and Nameless said he was dry of his spells.  Six of Six looked disappointed, but I will not take anymore chances at this juncture...whatever happend that creature seemed to drain the life from me.  Nameless assures me that it will pass in a day.

We continue our way back to town, now with a dead War Forged, a Dolgrim prisoner, and the head of a Dolgaunt.  To say the least, we scare many folks.  We find a person with an old beat-up cart and I offer him some money for his cart, which he takes - from the floor - after we leave.  We are bloodstained, and weary and then we encounter town guards.  My patience for them is small - for one, they impugn on my honor when I tell them of my mission - they do not believe me.  Then they force us to wait for an interminable amount of time while they run along to speak with the members of House Deneith.  After a bit we receive word to be escorted to House Deneith and we hop on an air cab.  The poor driver's face was agahst when he saw the contents of our cart.

We arrive at House Deneith and I see one of the twin sisters, Lalia d'Deneith.  She is surprised to see us in the condition that we are in, but I think she is surprised that we even made it back alive.  We tell her of our encounters and she takes the prisoner and dead War Forged body.  She informs us that there may be a continuation to this mission if need be, and that she will send us word and payment to the inn.  She also informed us that she will speak with the town guard so they will give us more leeway and respect since we can be more trusted.  I thank her for her help and trust then we part ways.

Heading back to the inn I think of some of the things that must be done.  First we may need to find permenant residence if we plan on staying in this area for long.  I think Bodo might do well to stick with us, but he must first learn how to listen.  I also want to get this kid off the street - get him some education, dicipline and show him the silver light of the Flame.  I think the next thing I must do, maybe the first thing in the morning when I am feeling better, is to head to the church of the Silver Flame and find out why I have been hearing the priest is mistreating Changelings and Shifters in Lower Dura and Callestan.


----------



## Rackhir

Written by Shilsen
4/11/05

*Session 3 - Not So Alone in the Dark*
* Back at the inn, the group finds Bodo (excited about his new leather armor and morningstar) waiting for them. Gareth arranges for Bodo to be allowed to share a room with them. While the other three get a bath and cleaned up, Nameless visits the Esoteric Order and tries to use their facilities, but is told that he needs to be a member of the Order. He then gets Bodo to take him back down to Callestan, where a little greasing of remarkably dirty palms allows him use of a kitchen in a ramshackle inn. There, he cooks the brains and one of the tentacles from the dolgaunt and actually manages to eat a bit without killing himself (watching which does cause Bodo to almost lose his lunch and leave).

* While Six works on a sculpture of the city, Gareth and Corven revisit the Cathedral of the Cleansing Flame, where Gareth talks to the acolyte Golar and sets up an appointment with the Archierophant. Returning to the inn, they find Nameless back too. Shortly afterwards, a House Orien courier brings them an envelope from House Deneith, which holds a note that reads:

According to the dolgrim (and we believe this is not a lie), the creatures were brought by the dolgaunt to work for a cult of humans in the Khyber's Gate area. The creature had little other information. We have arranged to have guards placed over the access shaft to prevent anyone entering or leaving. It would be a good idea if you continued into the Cogs through the secret tunnel you discovered and investigated. Once you return, the access shaft will be sealed. Thank you for your efforts in this matter.

Lalia d'Deneith

There is also a banknote drawn on the House Kundarak bank for 500 galifars. Gareth sends a message back to Lalia saying that they will continue their investigations the next day. The group heads to the small branch of the bank in the Clifftop district and open accounts for all of themselves, as well as a group account. Afterwards, the group returns to the inn for dinner and packs up for the night (other than Six and his sculpture), but not before Corven uses his artificer abilities to treat Gareth's weakness from a loss of blood to the gibbering mouther.

* The next day, after a leisurely morning and lunch, Gareth and Corven return to the Cathedral. They spend some time there before their appointment and Gareth detects evil in a passing acolyte and speaks to him. The young man, Kieran, claims to be a member of the Cathedral for the last three years and sounds like a devout follower of the Flame. Gareth especially asks him about the shifters in Lower Dura and learns that there is still a great deal of animosity towards the Silver Flame. There are, however, some shifters in the congregation. After having spoken to Kieran, the two are taken by Golar to meet the Archierophant, Ythana Morr. She turns out to be a tall, serious-looking woman with silvery-gray hair surrounding an unlined face, dressed in ceremonial vestments and full-plate armor even while working at her desk. She asks the pair what they are doing in Sharn, discusses a little bit about the Cathedral's connections with Thrane, mentions the upcoming 700th anniversary of the Silver Flame next year, etc. When asked about the shifters, she acknowledges the existing animosity, putting it down to shortsightedness on the part of the shifters, and also reveals that all of the shifters in their congregation are from more affluent areas of Sharn. She is also interested in the events in the Cogs and asks the pair to keep her acquainted with what they discover, in case the Cathedral can aid in some worthy task, though she does warn that the bowels of Sharn cannot be easily cleansed short of sending in an army. Lastly, she asks both of them if they are willing to work for the greater good of the Flame in Sharn. Corven and Gareth both agree and ask her to let them know if their services are ever needed. She thanks the pair and asks them to return to the Cathedral at any point, saying that there are morning and evening services.

* Leaving the Cathedral, Corven and Gareth join the others and head down to Callestan, this time leaving a reluctant Bodo behind. They find some men guarding the access shaft discreetly and are informed that they have twenty-four hours to return before they shaft will be sealed. Entering the shaft they find the dead bodies where they left them and head into the secret tunnel, passing the dead mouther's corpse to find a pair of rooms a little distance beyond.

* The two rooms, which contain little other than crude furniture and a fire-pit, seem to have been abandoned in a hurry. Nameless deciphers (but doesn't bother to translate for the others) some scrawls on the wall and finds that they refer to the daelkyr and a hoped-for conquest of Eberron. There is also a reference to some tunnel leading from light into dark and releasing the darkness. Corven, in the other room, finds a sliding compartment leading to a crawl space that contains a strange-looking sack with bloody smears on it. Investigation reveals that it is actually what remains of a human being who has literally been sucked dry, consisting only of bones and some organs inside the outer skin. While Corven and Gareth are investigating this, Six enters and catches a glimpse (reflected in a mirror on the wall) of an invisible form standing behind Gareth. His warning causes everyone to try to detect the creature in different ways, but all they get are slight indications that they are not alone, including a split second evil trace or a gray shadow whisking by in the mirror. When Corven attempts to examine the mirror, it suddenly turns dead gray and then displays an eye (that instantly expands to fill the entire mirror), before exploding outwards. After the cut and bleeding Corven is healed, he infuses a see invisibility spell and uses it to discover that the two rooms are filled from top to bottom with invisible (perhaps ethereal) webs that exist on another dimension, since they do not physically affect the group.

* Leaving the rooms, the group continues into a tunnel on the far side. Traveling for a while as the tunnel winds deeper and lower, they come to an area where small holes pierce the tunnel on various sides. They hear sounds of footsteps ahead but see no sign of anything. Eventually, as they continue, a patch of darkness emerges from a hole, with a strange-looking creature in the center, which Nameless identifies as a rare species called the orred. It is about three feet tall, pale gray in color and roughly humanoid-shaped, with two short and flabby-looking arms and legs, but without a head. Instead, it has two bulbous eyes and a round, lipless mouth surrounded by five greenish spikes protruding from its abdomen. Longer, bony spikes cover its body, especially its arms. The creature attacks by shooting one of the green spikes, which hits Six and instantly turns into a poisonous liquid, which he is of course immune to. While the group focuses on it, another orred attacks from the rear, unleashing a cacophony of sound from its mouth that hurts everyone and stuns Nameless. During the ensuing fight, the group manages to kill the first one, but not before they have all been further wounded with another blast of sound, a stunned Nameless has been shot and knocked unconscious, and Corven has been poisoned and weakened by one of the flying spines. The second orred flees into a hole.

* Continuing onwards, the group passes an area where the tunnel splits into three. The tunnel they are in finally ends above another one that crosses theirs at right angles. Climbing down, they head along the tunnel & eventually stop at a large door. While Six is checking the door, he hears heavy footsteps on the other side and the door opens to reveal a large, elderly ogre. It seems quite surprised and asks them not to hurt it. Beyond it, they can see a street of some kind and hear voices - in various languages - nearby, including some raised in argument. The ogre, who says he is Urka, reveals that they have reached Khyber's Gate and says that he has seen no sign of the creatures they describe. While the discussion is going on and as Nameless suggest they leave, the ogre looks down the street and quickly backs away, revealing more of the street, which has a few buildings and shops on it, and various races nearby, such as an elven cobbler and a couple of goblins. The ogre is replaced by a pair of well-armed gnolls. They ask what the group wants and though the adventurers try to leave, they attack. The two gnolls are joined by three more, two of whom are archers. During the fight Corven, as now seems to be the usual, has a hard time getting his scorching ray wand to work* and gets Nameless to use it more successfully after the latter has summoned a celestial wolf to trip the leader and cast his requisite web to snare some gnolls. Corven does, however, manage to infuse a spell in time to keep Gareth (who takes a serious blow from the gnoll leader's ranseur to start the fight) on his feet longer and stop him from bleeding to death when the paladin is eventually cut down, and also enchants Six's chain - while he is actually using it - so that he can do massive damage** to the gnolls. During the fight, they also hear the sounds of more fighting nearby.

* After the gnolls are dead, while the others revive Gareth and check the bodies, Six discovers that the fight nearby was between a sixth gnoll and a wererat (who just killed it). Six makes sure Gareth stays in the tunnel till the lycanthrope transforms back into a human. He says he is called Daim and thanks Six for their help, saying that the gnolls were bothering him when they arrived and provided a distraction. Daim also mentions that the gnolls belonged to the Daask gang and that there will be serious trouble soon. Hearing voices raised in alarm in the distance, including a couple that sound like they come from large creatures, and seeing goblins and others watching from the shadows where they retreated from the fight, the adventurers grab whatever they can from the bodies and retreat into the tunnel.

* rolled worse than a 5 on at least 4 occasions
** bane enchantment + two criticals = ouch!


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## Rackhir

Written by AviLazar
4/15/05

Session 3

When we head back to the inn, we get cleaned up and get some food.  Nameless heads off with Bodo in search of a kitchen that will let him cook his concoction.  While we are eating, Bodo arrives back looking a little sick and describes his horrid experience.

I decide at this point that I should head to the Church of the Silver Flame, and  Corven comes with me.  At the Church, we encounter an acolyte who we speak with for a couple of minutes.  He sets an appointment for us with the archeirophant.  On our way out we encounter another cleric, one who I detected as evil.  I had to hold off the urge to smite him where he stood - as one such as this should not be free to walk in this temple - let alone disguised as a cleric. I do realize, however, that the Church is corrupt and my time to cleanse it will be soon, but not right now.  I question him, subtlety, trying to create a relation with him.  I do not think he will be so foolish as to tell me anything bad that he has done, but if I gain his confidence, eventually he will.

Before going to sleep, Nameless and Corven realize that I will need some advanced healing or my health will not be restored for a number of days.  We dare not waste time, so Corven is able to use his obscure skills to make a scroll that will heal my health.  I am wary about his skills, which do not always work - and in the past I have seen it backfire on him, but he assures me there is nothing to worry about - I say a small prayer to the Silver Flame.

After being healed, we receive a missive from Lalia from House Deneith.  They offer us a bank note, for 500 gold pieces which is very generous.  They also ask us to continue further into the hidden area of the Cogs to find out the root of this evil and, with the Silver Flame's blessing, squelch this evil.

We head to the local bank and open up several accounts.  One for each of us to store our money safely, and one group account - which we place 70 gold pieces into it.  This account will help serve to buy group supplies.  We then proceed to a local wizards store and purchase some scrolls to give to Nameless.  These are scrolls of grease, which I am told will help in case a creature tries to grapple us in a fight - as well as make it so creature slip and fall.  Very ingenious.

Corven, Bodo and me then head to the Church of the Silver Flame to meet with the archeirophant.  We speak of various ecclesiastic matters which include the people in Lower Dura.  According to the archeirophant, the Church has offered a hand but the people down there refuse to accept.  I find this hard to believe as they were very receptive of me once I offered a gesture of good faith.  Again, this will take more probing, as things are not solved in a day.  The archeirophant asks if she can rely on Corven and my help in the future, if the need arises.  I, obviously, inform her that I serve any just cause the Silver Flame asks me of.  I just hope the church corruption has not reached the archeirophant.

After this, we meet up with the rest of the group and head back down to the Cogs.  We encounter a couple of guards which are expecting us and let us go down.  We pass by the dead bodies of the monsters we encountered.

<Faulty Memory>

We happen upon a door which leads us into an old room.  We begin to search this room which has a fire pit, and an adjoining door.  We do not find much, Nameless starts reading some information, while I continually keep vigil of the room - scanning it for evil.  Corven enters the other room, and follow him.  I must remind our group that wandering alone is not a safe thing to do.  There are four of us, so we should always be in teams of at least two.  Corven finds a weird looking sack which drops some dried up organs of what was once a humanoid of some sort.  Six of Six walks in and says there is something over my head, which I quickly turn around holding my sword at the ready. I do not see anything and M66 says he saw it in the mirror.  I begin to scan the room for evil, and eventually to the right of the mirror I detect an evil presence.  As soon as I begin to get a read on it, however, it disappears.  I continue to search the room for this evil - putting my back to the wall so I have a better vantage point.

 I must show Corven and Namless a trick utilizing the magic detection spell to find invisible creatures.  While not grossly accurate - it is a simple spell that has the ability to find any magic including the invisibility spell.  Corven then walks up to inspect it, while the rest of us keep vigil.  The mirror suddenly turns grey, and a huge eye grows - the mirror explodes and Corven takes some damage from the flying shards.  We heal Corven and he then creates a see invisible spell. He tells us that both rooms are full of ethereal webs from ceiling to floor.  I cannot say that I am happy about this, and the group decides that it is time we depart.  These webs are not hindering us, so they could potentially exist on another plane.  We will have to investigate this room when we have better access to other planes of existences.

</Faulty Memory>

We then continue down the corridor until we find an area full of smoothly bored holes.  A couple of creatures, named Orred, pop out of the ground and start attacking us.   They seem to shoot these poisonous spines, but this has no effect on Six of Six who is immune to such things.  Then, one of the other Orreds makes this loud screeching sound which is able to stun Nameless.  It hurts a little bit, but I am able to shrug off the effects.  The Silver Flame has blessed me with many abilities, and some of those help me resist such effects.  We are able to kill one of these Orred, but the other one runs through the hole.  In an attempt to kill it, and hopefully stop it from harming other creatures, I pour in a bottle of acid into the hole.  It does screech, but I hear it scurrying off.  Apparently, the acid was not enough to kill it.  After composing ourselves, I notice that Corven is poisoned.  We have no ways of magically healing him, but we try and bandage his wounds and get as much of the poison out as possible.  Then, some of our number collects the poison spikes to save for later use.  I cannot say that I would be proud to use such poisons, but I could see there cases of needing such tactics; especially if the goal is to subdue as opposed to killing.

After the battle, we heal up a bit, and continue down the path and come to a split.  We take the right path and follow it until we get to a door.  Having our equipment ready an ogre opens it up, and holds his hands up.  We realize he means us no harm and start to question him.  We have reached Khybers gate. Then a couple of gnolls appear and ask us what we are doing.  Nameless informs them we got lost and were going to leave.  The Gnolls do not seem to care and take a huge swing at me - slamming me hard.  We proceed to engage them in combat, and I am quickly dropped by one of these creatures leaving me.  I was told, that Corven in a desperate moment to save me was finally able to get his magical curing wands working and I am no longer dying. Corven then enchanted Six of Six's spiked chain making it more powerful against these creatures.  Nameless proceeded to summon a monster, this time a celestial wolf (thank the Silver Flame) which was able to trip the gnoll leader.  He then proceeded to cast another web spell.  While this hinders us to get close to the creatures, it also prevents them from getting closer to us.  A valuable tactic - and one that is well worth learning.

After this new battle the group brings me back up to health with a few uses of Corven's wand.  I stand hidden behind a corner while Six of Six questions a were-creature.  Apparently he was fighting some of these gnolls, and us being there helped him out.  This creatures name is Daim and he was accosted by some gang members of the gang Daask.  Personally, I would have liked to of met this Daim.  I think to help improve relations between the Silver Flame and other creatures would be served well by showing them the good that we do, not hiding.  Anonymity never helped anyone doing good.

We head back into the tunnel, closing the door behind us, to continue the opposite direction.  Let us hope we can run into some more friendly creature in these foul pits.


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## Rackhir

Written by Shilsen
4/17/05

Session 4 - How to Make Friends & Be Influenced By People
* Corven uses an infused hold portal on the door to cover the group's retreat and they head back towards the surface, hearing the sounds of pounding on the door behind them. After reaching and passing the area with the orred holes, they hear whistling ahead and round a corner to find a man sitting in the tunnel. He has a weathered appearance with a grizzled beard, and is dressed in well-worn traveler's robes, with a staff by his side. Greeting the group, he reveals that he is called Andon and dwells in or near Khyber's Gate, and says that he likes to wander the tunnels for a little solitude. He seems quite interested in what they are doing, and after being asked about the disappearances and Khyber's Gate, mentions that there is a tavern there called Shamukaar, which everyone treats as neutral ground. When Gareth asks if he can lead them there, he agrees, but the others point out that they are too low on resources to continue, so they ask him to meet them in the Broken Mirror inn in Callestan in three days time. Andon agrees and bids the group goodbye, warning them that he heard sounds of movement down the tunnels ahead.

* Continuing on, the group runs into a swarm of rats, many of them undead. The rats swarm over Gareth and Six, who are in the lead, doing substantial damage to both and with the noxious miasma that they emanate slightly weakening their minds. Gareth's attempts to blast the swarm with positive energy does little damage, as does Six's spiked chain, but the two warriors keep the swarm busy enough for Corven and Nameless to lob the recently-gained flasks of alchemist's fire and frost into the swarm, badly damaging it. Eventually, the swarm breaks up and flees, allowing the group to return through the two rooms (where the shards of the mirror and the writing on the walls is now missing). They stop while Corven picks up the skin-bag and puts it in a sack and Gareth checks for evil in the area, before returning to the surface. 

* Leaving the access tunnel, they find that the people guarding the entrance will start closing it up soon. Going to the Deneith enclave they inform Lalia, who meets them, about what they discovered. Returning to the inn, they clean up and settle down to dinner, and are joined by Bodo, who says he went down to Grayflood to meet some of his friends. When they have just finished dinner, there is a commotion outside and the group investigates to find that some people were attacked and a fight took place at another inn a couple streets away, called the Moon's Rest. Watch guards turn them away at the door as they try to investigate, though one is grateful when Gareth heals his black eye.

* The next day, the adventurers meet and speak to various people. Going to the Clifftop Adventurers' Guild, they sell the weapons they recovered. They are also invited to join the Guild, told about some of the benefits and informed that the only requirements are 15 galifars each and sponsorship by five existing members. Hearing that guild-members may often be found at the Drunken Dragon tavern nearby, they go there and find it to boast a very good selection of drinks and have walls adorned with curios and items from across Khorvaire, especially Xen'drik. They meet three members of the adventuring guild (Narik - dwarf, Lothas - human, Valin - half-elf), who are happy to chat with them and apparently returned recently from Xen'drik, where they went on an expedition for Morgrave University. 

* Afterwards, the three Cyran members of the group visit the Cyran embassy. There, they are taken to meet the ambassador, Lord Jairan ir'Dain. Jairan, a man with a graying beard and long hair tied back in a ponytail, dressed in rich robes gradually going threadbare, greets Corven and informs him that he is probably the only survivor of his immediate family and the inheritor of the ir'Lanya name. He suggests that they can have an investiture ceremony at the embassy, but Corven puts it off for the time being. Jairan also discusses the situation of Cyrans in the city and in New Cyre, far to the northeast of Breland, where Prince Oargev ir'Wynarn has created a settlement of Cyran survivors. He asks the group for their help with regard to the plight of Cyrans in Breland and says any financial contribution to the embassy will be appreciated. He mentions that many Cyrans live in the High Walls area, and that one of the primary figures is Cala Narain, a survivor from the military. After their discussion, he sends them to meet his aide Tyrala. Tyrala is a much younger, attractive-looking woman, accompanied by Holt, the ambassador's warforged bodyguard (whom Six - to his surprise - informs that he has a detailing service). Apparently very busy, Tyrala has a short talk with the group, informing them that she is sure that - as Cyrans - they will help in whatever way they can with the reclamation of the nation and its resources. At Corven's query about the Mournland, she says that she is very interested in discovering its cause and that sometimes the embassy funds expeditions into the Mournland. After having collected information about their location, she bids them goodbye. Gareth, meanwhile, takes Bodo to the Sharn Opera House to get the boy some culture, despite the latter's suggestions that a bar or a brothel might be as entertaining. After the embassy visit, while Corven and Six do a little sightseeing, Nameless visits the Guild of Starlight and Shadow and becomes a member, as well as selling the doses of orred poison there.

* That night, Nameless is woken by a strange feeling. He finds himself able to see the room in the dark, especially the soft, slightly luminous and grayish mist that covers the floor, eddying as if there were little breezes, though he cannot detect any. He also hears a soft buzzing sound that seems to come from all around. Corven, Gareth and Bodo are still asleep (Six, as usual, is in his own room), and seem impossible to awake. The buzzing sound slowly increases, and just as he casts a protective spell, a young woman steps through the door, without opening it. She is short and slim, wearing loose, comfortable robes, with long hair tied up in a loose bun. She looks human, with angular, sharp features, and is breathing as if she's been running. As soon as she sees Nameless, she calls, "Come quickly - there is no time!" & grabs his hand. He lets her pull him towards the door and she steps partially through it, before turning to say, "They are almost here!" Nameless suddenly gets a feeling that there is something behind him, and there is a momentary feeling of intense pain as something pierces the back of his neck, followed by the sense of being on the edge of a silent explosion. Everything goes black and he opens his eyes to find himself in the dark, lying in bed. Deciding it wasn't a dream, Nameless leaves for the mage guild (it being about 2 am at this time) and spends the next couple of hours in their small library researching what he experienced. He discovers that the woman's garb was kalashtar in nature, and that it was either (a) somebody sending him a dream vision and/or actually entering his dream, (b) some sort of conscious interaction with the plane of dreams, or (c) a really vivid dream. Returning to the inn around dawn, he falls asleep.

* When the others awake, Corven finds a note that has been slipped under their door. It says:

_Dear adventurers,

I believe that I have some information, sharing which may mutually benefit both of us. Please come to the Lucky Nines Casino in Firelight tonight, at eight. 

A (potential) friend_

The adventurers decide to see what this is about. During the day, they do various things, with Gareth attending morning services at the Cathedral of the Cleansing Flame, while Corven visits the Deneith enclave to discover if there is any more information regarding the disappearances they have been investigating (there isn't), Six visits the Cannith enclave to ask about warforged origins and components, and Nameless catches up on some sleep. 

* In the evening, they head down to the Firelight district in Lower Menthis. They find it to be a red light district, but much cleaner and well maintained than one might expect. They make their way to the Lucky Nines casino, a large and well-appointed place. After being asked to turn in weapons at the reception area, they are allowed in to the main floor area, which consists primarily of gambling tables, with a seating/drinking area to the side, the whole illuminated with a glamour and glitter that must involve substantial magical use. Many well-dressed people occupy the room. Shortly after the adventurers enter, a chubby gnome bumps into Corven, slipping him a note asking them to meet him at a particular table in the sitting area. When they get there, the gnome is already seated. Asking them to join him, he introduces himself as Killian and tells them that he has a proposal. He seems quite well informed about the group's members and about their visit to Khyber's Gate, and reveals that the gnolls they fought belonged to the criminal organization called Daask. He suggests that if the group is interested in countering some of Daask's activities, he can give them information about some Daask operations and they can deal with it as they see fit. When asked how he benefits from this, he says that his employer (whom he chooses not to name) would be happy to see Daask weakened. Gareth originally demurs, saying that he is sure that the gnome belongs to some evil organization and he will not help any such. Killian asks whether preventing Daask's activities such as murder, robbery and drug-running is not a worthy aim. He also says, when asked point-blank if he works for any rival gang, that he does not. Corven says that the group is willing to accept information, but will act as they see fit, and Killian says that he could ask no more. Also, as the group's insistence, he says that he will arrange some sort of go-between so that they can contact him too, rather than simply him contacting them. With that being settled, he thanks them for the meeting and wishes them best of luck in their future endeavors.


----------



## Rackhir

Written by AviLazar
4/26/05

After speaking with the were creature, we hear some creatures in the back coming up.  We close the door and Corven uses one of his infusions to hold the door shut magically.  We turn around, injured as we are, and head back the way we came.  We go up the hole, and a bit further down.  Once there, we heal ourselves up.

Going down a bit further, heading home, we hear a whistling and encounter a person in robes and holding a staff.  This person introduces himself to us as Andon and he says that he lives in Khyber's Gate.  We speak to this man, who did not radiate evil.  He also seemed sincere and amicable.  He told us of some places in Khybers Gate, including a tavern by the name of Shamukaar.  This tavern is a "neutral" territory where nobody fights, no matter what the dispute.  After speaking with Andon for a bit, I ask him if he would help navigate us to this place and he agrees.  We are to meet Andon in three days at the Broken Mirro in Callestan.  Upon parting, Andon informs us that he heard some noise in one of the tunnels, and to watch out.

We travel for a bit longer and are beseiged by a group of rats - many of whom are undead.  Six of Six and me are at the front and swarmed first.  Luckily, Six of Six is immune to their disease, and with the Silver Flame's blessing, so am I.  I start to turn these undead, dealing damage to them while everyone else begins throwing Alchemists Frost and Fire that we found on the creatures we fought earlier.  Six of Six, at first tries his spiked chain - but this has little effect. After a while, the swarm seems to be dispersed and we are left a bit worse for wear.  We continue down the path to the room with the broken mirror.  Corven grabs the skin-bag and stuffs it in his pack. I continue to check for evil and keep vigil while we are in this room.

Once we exited the Cogs, we are informed that this area will be closed.  We are assured there are other ways we can get into the Cogs, so I am not too worried about Andon getting out to meet us.  We head back to house Deneith to meet Lalia.  We speak with her for a few moments nad let her know our plan.  She seems fine with this.  After our meeting, we head back to the inn where we reset up, get cleaned and eat some food.  Bodo was not around, which is not too terribly surprising as he must have been bored here by himself.  He arrives a short time later, saying that he visited some friends in a part of town called Grayflood.

We finished our meal and heard a commotion outside, only to find a fight at the Moon's Rest inn.  The fight gets broken up and we try to investigate, but the guards refuse to let us in.  We show them our credentials, but this is not enough.  I notice a couple of the gaurds have some minor injuries and I offer to heal him.  At first he is taken aback, but then, realizing what I was doing is thankful.

We head back to our rooms to rest for the night.  Upon waking up we head to the Clifftop Adventurers Guild.  They ask us to join, and I am always a bit leery about joining different organizations.  After a while they convince me that joining requires no obligation other then annual dues.  We are told that we need to get five other guild members to sponsor us and are told we can find three members at the Drunken Dragon.  We head there and speak with a dwarf named Narik and he tells us of his adventures to Xen'drik, completing a mission for Morgrave University.  We ask the adventurers to sponser us and they inform us the next time they go to the Guild that we should look them up and they will be glad to put in a good word...for a drink.  We shake hands and part company, heading to the Cyran embassy.

Once we arrive at the Cyran embassy the group starts chatting a bit with the members.  At one point the group offers to donate a lot of money to the Cyran embassy.  While I feel sorry for members of Cyr who have suffered, I resent the group agreeing to this without asking me - especially since I am not sure how this money will be used.  If it will be used for the needy, then it is not so bad - though it should be known part of the money came from members of the Silver Flame.  If it is used for military purposes, or to line the pockets of some politician then I have problems with it.  I realize that I am wasting my time here, so I part ways with the group and head on to send a letter to my family.  I go to a Sivas station and begin to compose the letter:  

_Dear Mother and Grandmother,

Let me first apologize for not writing sooner.  My travels have been long since leaving the wars behind and I have encountered some people and places.  I am presently with a group of three other people who hail from the Mournlands - former Cyran soldiers.  One is a War Forged, another is a Wizard, and the last is an Artificer (also of Deneith lineage).  They were friends and comrades before Cyran was destroyed and are still friends and comrades.  They seem like a well-meaning lot though sometimes are a bit confused about what is the correct thing to do.

We arrived, three days ago, in Sharn - the City of Towers.  Grandmother - this place definitely matches the wonderful stories you told me when I was young.  The city is magical, both literally and figuratively.  There is much to see here, to learn and to hopefully be able to help those in need of it.

The first thing I did when I arrived here was go to the local House Deneith and met two Marshals (twins actually) by the name of Lalia (and I forget the other).  They seemed friendly enough and have asked me and my comrades to follow up on a man search.  This seemed like a justified mission, so I took it and we are currently investigating things.

I also stopped by the Church of Silver Flame here in Sharn.  It is a grand church indeed.  Unfortunately, the light of this church - as many others - is dimmed by the evil men that are allowed to walk through in garbs of priests.  One day the Church itself must go through a cleansing.

We have gone on some missions in this city and encountered many different people - including Shifters who are quite friendly once we get past the issues of "what we are".  I also took charge of a street urchin named Bodo.  He seemed the least evil and corrupt of a group of boys asking us if we needed a guide.  I keep him close to us, and have him setup in the inn so he does not go back to live on the streets.  I am trying to instill in him good values and maybe he will be able to survive off the streets.

We plan on staying in Sharn for a while, how long I do not know, but I have a feeling it will be sometime.  It would be great to hear from you and I hope everything is well.  Please place a flower on father's tomb, since I cannot be there to do it myself.

Always, with love,

Gareth Byron Deneith
Paladin of the Silver Flame_


After completing the letter, I head back to the inn where I get dressed up to go to the Sharn Opera House.  I bring Bodo with me, in the attempts to show him some of the finer things in life.  Bodo would like to go to a brothel, but I decline his offer and bring him along.  It is a fine Opera, telling a tragic story, full of love and vengeance.  Many people cry, though I smack Bodo on the back of the head to keep him awake.

After the Opera we head back to the inn and retire for the night.  I am startled awake by Bodo shouting and see Nameless sneaking off.  Upon questioning him he says that nothing is wrong and we should go to sleep.  It seems a bit fishy, but if he wishes to scamper off in the night then that is his choice.

When morning arrives, Corven finds a cryptic letter, asking us to meet a "Potential Friend" at the Lucky Nines Casino in Firelight.  Since we have plenty of time to kill, I proceed to the Cathedral of the Cleansing Flame where I pray and anoint Kismet with holy water and oils.  I take Bodo with me to show him the process.

As night comes around, we head to the Lucky Nines Casino.  While this area is still of a seedy nature, it seems to be a bit better maintained.  A more upscale version of what can be found in Lower Dura.  We meet with a man named Killian, and I instantly realize I do not like him.  In fact, I do not trust him as far as I can run Kismet through him and, unfortunately, had to check Kismet at the door.  This Killian would like us to work for him, from time to time, in disrupting members of the Daask gang.  While this sounds like a good thing, he does not state his affiliation and I worry that by helping him hinder Daask members, I would be helping a potential other gang raise in power.  I inform him, very bluntly, that I will not help him defeat evil so another evil can gain power.  I told him that any mission he requires of us will require due diligence on our parts and if something seems amiss, the consequences will be severe.

We part company, and only time will tell what will happen.


----------



## Piratecat

I checked, and this thread also exists in Google's cache. If you're missing any bits, head there!


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## Rackhir

Piratecat said:
			
		

> I checked, and this thread also exists in Google's cache. If you're missing any bits, head there!




Thanks will do, but I should have all of this in email.


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## shilsen

An email interchange between Rackhir and me:

Shilsen : I think you said Nameless is going to go see if he can locate the alienist at the Guild of Starlight and Shadows, right?

Me : Correct, he'll bring along some of his tentcle soup as well.

Shilsen : Oh man - I need to get Nameless writing a Dummies Guide to Dating for Alienists!

Me : Dummies don't need a a dating guide for alienists, anyone who isn't smart enough ends up dying horribly and won't survive long enough to read it.

Now back to our regularly Scheduled Story Hour

Shilsen :

Once you make it to the Guild and ask about her, you'll be told that Trillia Lelleir has her own home nearby, behind and between the Dark Words (sells scrolls) and Bottled Silver (sells potions). You'll also be told about a possible job opening. Karr'Aashta, a House Tharashk inquisitive who runs his own agency called Karr'Aashta's investigations in the same district, has contacted the Guild about whether any of the members might be interested in accompanying one of his associates on a bounty hunting job. Says that the target is an fallen ex-Karrnathi holy warrior and that it'll take some traveling, but no other details. Can directly contact Karr'Aashta at his agency, which you'll be given directions to.

If you go to Trillia's house, you'll find it to be a tower apartment, otherwise unremarkable outside, other than having the Guild's sigil to indicate a member lives there. The door is opened by a steward, who'll check who you are and (assuming that you mention a Guild affiliation) let you into a waiting room. He'll be back in a few minutes to let you know that his mistress will see you and take you to a more comfortable sitting room. The inside of the apartment doesn't look much like a mage's abode, other than the odd arcane item (and yes, there are a couple of tentacular statuettes). A couple minutes after that Trillia shows up to greet you. 

She's a pleasant-looking woman who looks to be in her early thirties. Bright green eyes and short blonde hair, with a single streak of black running down one side. Comfortable robes as many of the middle-class wear.

What next?

Let me know how you'll generally introduce yourself, what you'll ask about, info you'll share with her, etc.

Me : I will tell her "I wish to learn the knowledge of that which lies beyond the confines of our small reality. To peer beneath the surface of what the uninitiated view as solid and impenetrable. My arts are bent towards those of summoning and I desire to bring those who dwell beyond to my aid when I call. I am told that you have already started walking the path to that knowledge and I wish to ask your help in setting my feet upon that same path towards transcendence. I know that there are prices to be paid for this knowledge and that a cost will be extracted, but I am willing and unafraid. Even if it is only because of my ignorance."

"Err, I also have some tentacle stew I made from a <whateveritwas>, It is not without it's risks as well, but it is an interesting culinary experiment. It can also be effective in inuring one's self against other less exotic and less palatable foods.

Shilsen :

Lillia's lips begin to twitch a bit during your speech and she gives an explosive and quite unladlylike guffaw at the comment about the tentacle stew. "Hah!" she chortles, "Tentacle stew? Nobody's offered me that since ... well ... ever!" She stops laughing, but there is still an amused twinkle in her eyes as she steps forward and sticks out a hand, "And no, I'm not laughing at you. I'm just not very big on formality. Call me Trillia. And have a seat."

She takes a seat on a comfortable couch, curling her feet up under herself. Once you are seated, she waves a hand and a small hammer rings a nearby gong (unseen servant, you figure), summoning the steward, who she will ask to fetch both of you something to drink. Once that is done, she says, "I'm not big on entertaining, but I have to say it is interesting to meet a fellow scholar, and especially one with the same interests. Even though the Guild is less stuffy than the old farts at the Esoteric Order, even some of the members here think my ... or, seemingly, our ... sort of studies are dangerous and risky. Which is utter garbage, of course! Knowledge on its own has no morality. Morality - which has its own problems as a concept - lies in the uses of knowledge, not the acquisition thereof. Knowledge, simply ... is. Which, come to think of it, is a good explanation for the kind of subjects I study. They..." 

At this point, she stops and chuckles. "There I go again, rambling about my interests. And I haven't even asked what your name is. Glauster - that's my steward - said that you told him you were nameless. Were you just being coy," she chuckles, "Or is there some interesting story there?"

Me:

With a somewhat distant expression on his face and eyes that loose their focus, Nameless replies. "I do not understand it myself, but I have no name. What ever it is in the nature of things that names them is absent in me. It is not something that is lost or taken. It is part of my nature in the way that color or texture is part of other things. Perhaps that is why I seek the knowledge that I do. Like I, they are also nameless, such concepts are meaningless to them.

His eyes regain their focus and he looks at her once more. "So usually I am called nameless, it is really a description, but most mistake it for a name and it sounds like one in any language but this."

With a smile he continues "It is indeed a pleasure to talk about such things, with a savant. My comrades are strong warriors, but they have no comprehension of such things. As you know there are a limited number of people with whom it is safe to discuss such things even among those who can understand. I discuss them with Edgar, but that usually only baffles and alarms those around me." (he indicates his rock)

Trillia smiles and says, "An inbuilt resistance to names, and you have a rock named Edgar? Some things are definitely unusual about you, master Nameless, but then that is to be expected in our line of work, so to say."

She wiggles into a somewhat more comfortable position and then says, "So, how exactly do you think I can help you? I am not looking for an apprentice, and somehow, I do not get the impression that you are looking to become one at this point. So are you looking for an instructor, or simply a more experienced colleague, or just a friend to discuss your interests with?"

Before you can respond, she continues quickly, "After all, as you mentioned, subjects such as mine can be a trifle unsafe to discuss. What do I gain from sharing what I know with a stranger such as yourself?" Her voice grows steadily less jovial till it is clipped and razor-sharp. "After all, do I not run the risk of simply creating a rival to my own desires? You said that there is always a price to be paid for this knowledge and cost to be extracted. What can I extract from you, master Nameless, which would make you worth my while?" Trillia falls silent, her green eyes now cold and hard upon you.

Unphased by her rapid shift in personality, Nameless calmly replies "I offer you knowledge, power and an ally. You are an established city mage, while that grants you a stable income and time to do research it is not a quick path to power. I have chosen to risk my life pitting it against the many dangers out there, for there is no teacher like having your life depend on your skills and knowledge. I don't know why, but I know I do not have decades to spend slowly learning and growing in power. There are times even now, when I feel the hot breath of something unknown on my neck and I know I need power much greater than I have now."

Nameless's eyes briefly kindle with a dark fire. "I WILL have that power and will gladly share the knowledge and understandings I gain with you. Already I am on the verge of obtaining real power and skill, before too long I will be a powerful ally. I am going to be venturing into the dark and shadowed places of the world where many hidden mysteries can be revealed. Secrets I am sure you would like to have revealed to you. All I am asking of you is an introduction into the realms of existance that are already known to you. Knowledge is not something you loose by sharing it." 

"Nor do I desire to rival anyone, I seek what I do for my own reason, even if I do not always understand what they are. If there is something more concrete that you wish me to do, please name it. If we are to be allies, trust must be established and I do not ask you to place faith in me without cause. If we are allies then what benefits you is not a loss to me."

"However, if you seek someone to bow and scrape before you, to toady for you and flatter your every whim, then I will indeed have to seek elsewhere. Such as that are no allies indeed, nor could anyone so lacking in will survive what we must on the path we tread. Even if it is a path that must be trode alone, company, however distant does make a journey more pleasant and safer."

He then bows his head to her and awaits her reply.

Trillia holds your gaze for a moment, her expression still as hard as before, before the fagade cracks and her face is split with a broad smile. She lifts her hands and claps, before saying, "Well spoken. Somewhat, though not overly, diplomatic (her smile widens at this point), but clear and forceful about your position. I appreciate that. Of course, it remains to be seen whether your actions will live up to your words but that's true for all of us."

She cocks her head and looks speculatively at you, and then continues, "Many scholars have pondered exactly what it is that sets limits to an individual's abilities. Why is it that some war veterans will never improve their expertise beyond where they were after a dozen battles, whether they fight in a hundred or thousand? Why can some wizards learn to master, say, valences of the third power in two years of study and then have to spend the next twenty to access the next circle of theurgy? And others spend just as much time and effort and never move beyond the second power? Some put it down to fate, but I am not a big believer in it. I would say, rather, that each person has a finite potential, which he or she can choose to achieve or not. And in your case, I think you may be right about the fact that you have a potential that will be revealed quickly. But we shall see."

As for myself, she says, "The sharing of knowledge and a little, presumably fascinating, conversation is something I am always willing to indulge in with the right people. And though we've made a good beginning on the latter, perhaps we can have more of the same and some sharing of knowledge over dinner. Will you join me?"

As Nameless nods agreement, she gestures and the gong rings again, summoning Glauster. She informs the steward that you will be staying for dinner and that he may serve it when ready. Once he leaves, she turns back to you and says, 

"At this moment I will ask nothing of you for whatever I may share or reveal to you. As you say, ours is a lonely road, and a little intelligent company never hurts. Well, other than intelligent company that tries to rip your eyeballs out, which has been known to happen ... but I digress. As I said, I will ask nothing of you right now. Perhaps, in the future, I may need to ask you for help or a favor, and at that time you can decide based on what goes before whether you are willing to give it or not. And no, I don't ask for promises of any kind other than that you will consider whatever it is that I may ask, before agreeing or dismissing it."


----------



## shilsen

Written by shilsen 5/2/05

*Session 5 - Monkey Business*

* After leaving Killian's table, the group moves around the casino for a while. Killian remains at the table till he finishes his drink, before moving around the casino too, still being there when the adventurers leave. When they return to the Happy Harvest inn, Bodo is out, but they find someone else waiting for them. It is a young shifter woman, who introduces herself as Luna and says that she has been referred to them by Narik, from the Clifftop Adventurer's Guild. She is Brelish but new to Sharn, and has been looking for a group that could benefit from her abilities as a healer, spellcaster and warrior, and whom she could also learn from. Luna also explains that she is a druid. Nameless asks her some questions about various druid sects and philosophies, and Luna says that while she was trained by a member of the Gatekeepers, she is not affiliated with any druidic sect herself. The adventurers decide to accept her on a trial basis and explain a little about what they have been doing recently and their plan for the next day.

* Coming down to breakfast the next morning, the group is met by a changeling in his natural form, who introduces himself as Flan and says he has been sent by Killian. He informs them that if they need to contact him, he can usually be found at the Drunken Dragon tavern, showing them a ring with a blue gemstone which he will be wearing, in whatever form he is in, so that they can recognize him. He also suggests that they be a little 'discreet' in contacting him there. 

* After Flan leaves, the group heads down to Callestan. On the way, they stop at a clothing shop to pick up some different clothes, especially a large cloak for Gareth that will hide the details of his armor, so that there will be lower chances of Daask members recognizing them from their battle with the gnolls. Reaching Callestan and the Broken Mirror, they find it full of the usual clientele, with Andon sitting quietly in a corner with a drink. Redtooth (or Gorlick) and his brother Arian are not present, but some of the others there recognize them. Andon greets them and the group leaves with him.

* Andon leads them west into the Precarious warehouse district and to one of the access tunnels into the Ashblack cogs. One of the guards at the tunnel entrance asks the group where they are going and ends up completely confused from the various answers. Andon leads the group down into Ashblack and then away through the tunnels leading to Khyber's Gate. On the way he explains that if the group does get themselves into trouble, he is going to stay out of it, since he doesn't want to be in a fight. At some point while traveling, both Nameless and Andon detect some form of magical effect which they successfully resist, but using detect magic and Gareth's detect evil does not reveal anything (Nameless does detect some protective magical items on Andon).

* After nearly an hour of traveling, the group enters Khyber's Gate and heads towards Shamukaar, after Andon talks to a couple of nearby goblins to be sure of the route. On the way, they pass creatures of various races and find that the entire area is honeycombed with tunnels and structures carved into the cavern and tunnel walls. Shamukaar turns out to be set into a large cavern opening off the main tunnel that they are in. It appears to just be a somewhat seedy-looking tavern, albeit with much of its proportions larger than for humans. Reaching the door, the group finds a strong stench of meat and blood emerging, and enter to find that it is a combination slaughterhouse, butcher shop, restaurant and tavern. To the right of the large sitting & eating area that they enter into are a large pair of open doors, revealing the lip of a large pit beyond. Though there are some people from the more common races, most of the tavern is full of goblinoids, with some gnolls and ogres, and even a minotaur talking to a large half-ogre and a cloaked and hooded figure at the bar. A bugbear serves drinks, while an ogre stands behind a large table with a cleaver, cutting meat off unidentifiable slabs of meat hanging from hooks in the ceiling near him. 

* Andon waits outside and enters a little after the rest of the group and takes a seat at a different table. The group takes a table and are quickly accosted by a goblin server. Everyone orders drinks, while Nameless orders some food (from a verbal menu that apparently only contains various types of meat), making sure that it is not sentient. Nameless also tries and fails to stop Gareth from wasting energy by detecting evil and discovering that the majority of the clientele are. Six asks the goblin, named Raaka, about the disappearances. Though the goblin doesn't know anything, he says he will check and asks around.

* When the drinks and food arrive, Nameless tries his and manages to keep it down. Meanwhile, the questions from the goblin lead the minotaur to come across to the group's table. He introduces himself as Torarg (the goblin already said that he and the cloaked figure - Harash - are from Daask) and joins the group as Six quickly buys him a drink. After talking a bit with the group about their search, he calls Harash to join them. Harash, who turns out to be a medusa, says that he might have some information about the location of a local cult, but asks the group what the information is worth, and then suggests that if they "entertain" the crowd he will give them the information. Talking to the large half-ogre, who is apparently the owner and the Shamukaar the tavern is named after, he suggests that they group fight "monkeys" in the pit. When pressed, he indicates that the monkeys are actually horrid apes and about as big as an ogre. The adventurers reluctantly agree and are lowered into the pit with ropes, finding it to be roughly forty feet long and wide and thirty high, with a sandy floor and rocky walls, and a fifteen foot high and broad portcullis at the end.

* As they take up positions and cast preparatory spells, growling begins behind the portcullis, which is raised to reveal two large apes beyond it, with weird spikes and scales on them. Battle is joined, originally going well for the group, with Six tripping an ape, Gareth wounding one, Luna striking them with hurled handfuls of flame, Nameless distracting them with summoned creatures and Corven using his wand of scorching ray. Things quickly go downhill from there, as the group discovers the apes are very strong (one ripping Six's spiked chain from his hands) and drip acid from their claws. Despite Nameless' web spells hindering them, one ape breaks free and seizes Gareth and rends him, almost ripping him in two*. Six too is badly wounded and then smashed into near-death against the arena wall. The remaining adventurers do manage to take down the wounded apes, though not before both Luna and Corven are badly wounded too. They quickly check on the fallen pair and find them miraculously both alive**.

* The viewers are very entertained by the fight and Harash says that it is one of the best that he has seen. He gives the group directions to a place about a quarter mile away, in a relatively uninhabited part of Khyber's Gate, where he says the cultists have a small house. He also asks if the group has been in Khyber's Gate before, with a speculative eye on Gareth's revealed armor (his cloak having been ripped off during the fight). The group denies any such occurrence and quickly leaves the tavern, before any more questions are asked.

* They return to the place where they entered Khyber's Gate and leave quickly, making their way back to Ashblack and then the surface, without any further trouble. Returning to the inn, they settle down to a very late lunch and a discussion of what the next move should be.

* 50+ pts of damage in one round!
** Thanks to spending three action points each to survive below -10.


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar 5/6/05

Session 5

After concluding our business with Killian the group starts walking around the casino, and it seems that Six of Six is happy to gamble a little bit.  While I do not object to people gambling, I hope Six realizes that gambling should not be relied upon for a source of income – unless one is the gambling house.  I ask the group to leave as I do not feel like consorting in this area anymore – it just simply provides no useful stimulation.

We arrive back at the inn, which seems to be our temporary home, where we encounter a Shifter woman who was sent to us by one of the people from Clifftop, Nerak I believe.  This girl introduces us as Luna and tells us that she is a druid looking for some adventures.  She says she could offer us combat expertise as well as healing.  She seems like an honest one, and at the very least does not have the taint of evil upon her.  I have no problems with her joining, and I think Six of Six is a little taken with her.  I do not think Six, in his short-lived years, has encountered many women on a long-term, personal level.  We inform Luna about our current mission and she seems agreeable to join us.  

We have some time to kill for the night so I spend it in prayer, anointing my sword with more holy water and oils from the church.  Hopefully I will get a reply to my letter from my mother and my grand mom very soon.  I miss them dearly.

In the morning we head downstairs and encounter a changeling by the name of Flan.  He says that he is making himself known as the messenger from Killian.  He also lets us know that he can be found at the Drunken Dragon tavern and that if he is shape shifted we should just look for his blue gemstone ring.

We eat our breakfast and then make our way out to go for some clothes shopping.  I purchase a greatcloak to help him my armor for our journey to Khyber’s Gate.  We then make our way to the Broken Mirror in Callestan where we see some familiar faces, and they see us.  Nobody seems to bother us as they remember us as a good lot – and that is how I would like to keep it.  I do not see Redtooth or his brother, but who knows they might just be disguised.  We encounter Andon and chat with him for a bit.  We let him know about the undead rats, and he lets us know about the commotion that was caused when we left Khyber’s Gate.

We head down to the cogs from another entrance, in some warehouse, and continue our way to Khyber’s Gate.  On the way there Andon informs us of some basic rules.  He tells us that if we cause trouble, or if trouble runs into us, he will not jump into the fray.  I would not want him to, he is already helping us for nothing and I would feel bad if he got hurt because of us.  While going down Andon and Nameless experience some magical effect.  They try to detect the magic and I try to search for evil but we do not find anything.  Maybe it was some kind of scrying, or some kind of mind control.  The people looking for us will make themselves known when they are ready.

We enter Khyber’s Gate and head to this tavern, Shamukaar.  Andon asks for direction along the way – since we are underground it is hard to navigate sometimes.  Six of Six keeps note of the direction we are heading, I also do the same.  We head into the tavern and pick up a seat.

This place smells pretty foul and looks it to.  At times like this I feel even more blessed that the Silver Flame protects me from diseases of all sorts.  A not-too-bright goblin comes to the table and asks us what we would like to eat.  Apparantly the food is meat, special meat, and I believe meat surprise.  Nameless finds, to his dismay, that there is no tentacles.  He then proceeds to ask the goblin to make sure the food was never sentient.  They go into a discussion while Nameless tries to explain what he meant.  While he is doing this I begin to scan for evil, and eventually feel a poking at my side.  I inform Nameless that he should refrain from trying to distract me.  He tells me this is rude to detect evil.  All of a sudden it matters?  I will have to inform him that poking me, at anytime, is not acceptable – just as it would be for me to poke him while he is casting a spell against some monster.  After speaking to some of the creatures a big Minotaur comes around and introduces to us as Torarg.  Six of Six buys him a drink and we are talking.  Torarg said he could help us out but wants us to earn the information – by fighting in the pits.  We go into a discussion and I am reluctant to go into a lethal fight for sport.  I find out, from Luna, that these big monkeys are of the magical kind – not normal and not very kind to any creature.

We head down to the pits, and begin prepping ourselves up.  As the doors to the monkey cage open huge beasts arrive.  Luna takes up a position to the side of the door, Six of Six at an angle, and I stand right in front acting as a shield to prevent the monkeys from running up to Corven or Nameless.  I slash at an ape, and Six is able to trip him.  Luna then begins throwing flames from her hand – things are going well.  Nameless starts summoning his foul demonic creatures, while Corven uses his “scorching ray” wand.  Nameless then casts a web spell which helps entrap the creature.  I inform Six of Six that I will make an attempt to flank the creatures.  As I almost get into position, Six of Six drops his weapon and tumbles away from the creature to drop his bow.  At the same time Nameless has Luna burn the web.  The creatures take some minor damage and now I am left alone with them.  The only thing that is providing a little distraction and help is the monsters that Luna is summoning.  Nameless casts another web spell, but this one is not as strong as the other.  I wish Nameless would not burn those webs.  While it may look pretty to see things go up in flame, those web spells really do help protect us from these creatures.

This big creature starts to slash me and tears into me, I pass out unconscious – probably lucky that I did not die.  From this point on I can only go by what Corven told me.  The creatures ignore me and then proceed forward where they strike out at Six of Six and bring him down also.  Corven then proceeds to heal Six of Six, though he stays down and acts as if he is dead.  Luna proceeds to summon some eagles which not only distract the big apes, but they also do some decent damage.  The group continues to damage the apes, and Corven strikes a fell blow with his wand.  The eagles that Luna summoned also take down one of the apes.

After the battle Corven proceeds to heal the group up.  We explain to Luna that after combat we use magical wands to conserve on our healing abilities.  We head back up to the main part of the inn, where we find a very entertained group.  They also notice my armor.  The Minotaur asks if we have been here before and I tell him no, that I have not.  I guess to preserve the greater good it would not be prudent to let him know of our previous encounter at Khyber’s Gate.  I do not think starting a massive fight would do anyone good – though I am sure some of these creatures deserve to die.  We leave the tavern and return to the inn.  We talk some battle tactics, and I voice my complaints about being left alone in a precarious position.  I tell the group that if they want to use me as the shield, I will need to be healed a bit more often (and quickly) and I will need better equipment to protect me.  Also, the group should just not abandon me in the middle of battle.  I got lucky the creatures didn’t decide to beat on me while I lay there unconscious.


----------



## shilsen

Writen by shilsen 5/9/05

*Session 6 - Unholy flaming puke, Batman!*

While the others remain at the inn, Nameless goes to the Guild to learn the location of Trillia Lelleir, an alienist and one of the more powerful members of the Guild in Sharn. He also learns of a possible job for the group, since a Tharashk inquisitive has inquired at the Guild about hiring a member (and possibly any associates) for a job involving apprehending an ex-Karrnathi fallen holy warrior. Nameless goes to Trillia's home and meets her, finds her quite interested in sharing knowledge with him, and is invited to return again whenever he wishes. 

The others, meanwhile, are joined by Bodo, who has apparently spent the day down in Grayflood. He says that he heard that a couple of people were inquiring about adventurers willing to help investigate the increasing attacks by sahuagin on shipping in the area.

***
The next morning, the group is at breakfast when Six notices a stranger (human male) in the room fidgeting with a ring looking just like Flan's. Joining him, they find that it is Flan and he delivers a message from Killian, letting them know that Daask has opened a dreamlily den in the tenement district of Tumbledown, to the northwest of the Underlook district where the group's inn is. He says that there is no further information and that they make act on it as they deem fit. 

Conferring after he is gone, the group is unanimous in not wanting to get involved with Daask any more right now. Gareth decides to take the information to the Deneith enclave. Not finding Lalia or Tasra there, he leaves them a note detailing the information and suggesting that they contact the city watch or other law enforcement in this regard.

Nameless, Corven and Luna, meanwhile, visit the Tharashk inquisitive Karr'Aashta, head of Karr'Aashta's Investigations. He reveals that his associate Raog is planning to go after a target who was supposedly formerly a paladin and originally a member of the Karrnathi military and, late in the Last War, betrayed his soldiers and led them into an ambush. He has since been a criminal and has a bounty on his head, and Karr'Aashta has narrowed down his location to an area a week's travel away. Hearing that the group has five members and checking on their various abilities, he says that he is willing to give them the job. The three members of the group say that they will need to confer with the others and decide.

Lastly, Six goes down to the docks of Grayflood with Bodo and locates Quinn, the person seeking adventurers to deal with the sahuagin. Quinn reveals that there have been escalating attacks, such as the one the group fought off on the way to Sharn. The Royal Navy has planned to have a merchant ship traveling with prepared adventurers on board, hoping to tempt sahuagin into attacking and capture at least one, so that they can interrogate it and discover what is going on. When he learns that the group has fought and defeated sahuagin before, Quinn wishes to hire them, and Six says that he will have to check with his companions.

When the entire group reconvenes at the inn, Nameless suggests that leaving the city for a while might be a good idea, just in case Daask is actually looking for them, and everyone agrees. They decide to try to find a way to combine both jobs and revisit first Karr'Aashta and then Quinn. At the former's, they meet the half-orc inquisitive named Raog who will accompany them to apprehend their target, and (once they have agreed to accept the job) learn that the target is named Desro and was a former captain in the Karrnathi army. He is expected to be found near Shadowlock Keep in southwestern Breland. The group plans to meet Raog at the Keep, traveling there on the decoy ship for the sahuagin job. The details of the assignment and the payment (the group chooses an equal share of whatever is recovered, rather than a fixed pay) are agreed upon, and the group heads to Grayflood.

There, they meet with Quinn and explain their particular needs. Quinn agrees that it would work and the agreement is made that the ship will travel west and drop them near Shadowlock Keep and wait for them for a couple of days. The adventurers are supposed to be paid fifty galifars each, with an extra fifty each if they do encounter and defeat sahuagin, and fifty more if they successfully capture some. The group is given a day to prepare and told that the ship will leave on the 10th.

***
The next day, the 9th, the group-members keep themselves busy in various ways. Corven, Six and Luna travel to the Morgrave University library together and spend a number of hours checking documents and books regarding the group's interests and their personal ones. Six suggests that the group also get hold of old newspapers and they check copies of the Korranberg Chronicle and the less reputable Sharn Inquisitive. Though they do not find anything on Desro in the papers (there is some historical information at the library about the battle he betrayed his troops in, and snippets about his earlier career), they find some information about the Cogs and the history of Sharn.

Nameless spends much of the day at the Guild, working on a couple of scrolls to add to his magical arsenal. Gareth, having received a note in the morning from Lalia inviting him to a show and dinner, spends the evening with her. They visit the Khavish Theater in Upper Menthis to see a popular new comedy and then make it to an excellent restaurant called Galdin's Garden to have some spicy Brelish cuisine. During the meal and on the way back, Lalia hits on Gareth but has no success.

***
The next day, as planned, the group returns to Grayflood. Before doing so, Gareth sends Bodo to the Cathedral with a note asking for him to be given a place there. At Grayflood, they meet Quinn and board the ship, which is a sturdy-looking cog captained by an old sailor named Gorin. The group is accompanied by five other warriors, including a pair of half-elven archers, a dwarven axeman, and two human swordsmen.

The ship leaves Sharn soon after the group boards and heads south into the Straits of Shargon, before turning west. The voyage is uneventful for the first few days, as the ship continues west before eventually turning north. Eventually, on the night of the 14th, the ship is attacked by sahuagin. Six and one of the archers are on watch and they sound the alarm, quickly bringing the waiting Luna and the two swordsmen to the deck.

While sahuagin attempt to board the ship from both sides with grappling hook, the defenders keep them at bay, buying enough time for the sleeping adventurers and other guards to join them, Nameless staying behind the door to their cabins and casting spells from cover. The battle goes comfortably for the defenders until they are assaulted at the ship's rear by a sahuagin with clerical abilities and at the ship's front by a strangely mutated and stunted sahuagin with tentacular growths on its body.

Six manages to trip and wound the mutant sahuagin, despite its amazingly thick hide and great nimbleness, causing it to vomit a huge burst of foul and red-hot puke that badly wounds many of the defenders, kills one of the archers and renders Six, caught right in the blast, unconscious*. With the cleric wounding and stunning some of the defenders (including Corven, who has been shooting at sahuagin with a crossbow he enchanted against them with an infusion) with a spell and then causing one of the other warriors to temporarily attack the unarmored Gareth, the battle becomes a little more complicated than expected, but the defenders eventually prevail, Gareth cutting down the cleric and a hurled handful of flame from Luna** killing the mutant, just after it almost blinded her by spitting a glob of slime in her face.

While Six is revived and others healed, the cleric and one other unconscious sahuagin are bound. The mutant dissolves into a pool of acidic slime, causing some of the adventurers to collect some in vials and then quickly dispose of what remains before it eats through the decks. 

*** 
While the group rests after the fight, the ship continues north and eventually docks near a small fishing village. The group disembarks, with the understanding that the ship will wait for three days while dropping off some cargo and taking on provisions. They obtain transportation on some wagons heading to the Keep and reach the village around it at midday.

Locating Raog in the tavern they were supposed to, they learn that Desro is a lot closer than originally anticipated, being only an hour's ride from where they are. Raog quickly organizes mounts and the group leaves, heading for a wooded area some miles away. After a little over an hour of riding, they reach the woods and proceed into it, finally finding a trail that should lead to the cottage where Desro is supposed to be hiding. 

Leading the horses off the trail and hiding them, the group proceeds to the cottage, which is in the middle of a clearing. Six moves ahead to scout and finds it seemingly uninhabited, with signs that multiple horses had been in the area. Cautiously moving up to check the area, the group detects magical protections on both front and back doors, as well as one inside, and poisoned crossbow traps aimed at the windows. They manage to trigger the crossbows and collect the poisoned bolts and enter through the windows.

The hut is spartan, consisting of two rooms, and containing little furniture besides a table, four chairs and a couple of cots. A large chest is protected with another abjuration, and nobody wants to risk opening it yet. The group has Luna attempt to hide their tracks and lays an ambush, protecting themselves with spells and waiting inside the hut. After a couple of hours of waiting, as it is getting fairly dark outside, somebody hidden in the trees fires an arrow into the dirt outside the door, apparently with a note attached to it. The adventurers make no move and after a few minutes, a flaming arrow hits the wall of the hut. Luckily, it does not set the hut on fire.

A little more time passes and Luna hears the sound of distant spellcasting in the trees. Making a rough guess, she casts an entangle spell in the area, resulting in angered swearing from whoever it is. Figuring that their attacker is distracted, most of the adventurers pile out of one window, followed by Raog, while Gareth jumps out the other side. 

Proceeding into the darkness of the woods, some of them manage to sight movement ahead due to a number of scrolls of low-light vision that Corven had prepared. Luna illumines the enemy with a faerie fire, revealing it to be an armored man with a shield. He is apparently a spellcaster since he hammers the group with a sound burst, stunning Six. The group is also attacked unexpectedly from the side, three arrows hammering into Nameless and seriously wounding him. 

Gareth and Six charge the invisible archer, who is made an easy target by another faerie fire from Luna, while Corven engages the cleric with his crossbow and Raog charges him. Despite being critically wounded, Nameless manages to summon a celestial riding dog to keep the cleric busy. 

With both enemies well-illumined, the fight ends quickly. The archer manages to wound Gareth twice, but is quickly wounded by Six and then smote to the ground by the paladin. The cleric manages to paralyze Raog with a hold person but takes a very serious wound from Corven's crossbow in the process. He swigs a potion, hoping that will enable him to flee, but before he can do so, a hurled produce flame from Luna drops him to the ground.***

* Straight from 28 hp to -1 in one attack.
** My error, since the creature was immune to fire
*** My error again, since I didn't track that Luna was exceeding her prepared spells in number and type. Only excuse - the entire section from the ship docking was completely ad-libbed, with no notes or stats, so I was juggling a LOT in my head.


----------



## shilsen

I went to India over the summer, so there's a long gap between the last session and this one.

*Session 7 (9/18/05) - Encounter(s) with Desro(s)

Corven ir’Lanya Deneith - Human Art5
Gareth Byron Deneith - Human Pal3/Clr2 (Silver Flame)
Luna - Shifter Drd5
Mithral 6 of 6 - Warforged Ftr2/Scout3
Nameless - Human Wiz5*

While some of the group heal themselves, others check to see that the archer is dead but the cleric is alive, though unconscious. The former is a slim half-elf, wearing a magical chain shirt and using a well-made longbow, while the latter is a burly human, with a handlebar moustache and wearing a breastplate. He also wears a holy symbol of the Mockery, member of the Dark Six and deity of betrayal and treachery. Raog, once he recovers, identifies him as Desro and suggests that the group dispatch him immediately. Nameless is about to oblige but Gareth (who detects a strong evil aura on Desro) intervenes and suggests they keep him manacled and gagged, which should make it impossible for him to cast a spell, and question him later. Corven backs him up and Nameless and Raog reluctantly agree.

The two enemies, both corpse and live, are dragged back to the hut. There, the group goes through and divides their equipment, heals themselves, and triggers (from a distance) the magical traps on the two doors, which turn out to be explosive glyphs. There is also a magical trap on the chest, which they leave alone for now. All of them take a rest, other than Six, who has no choice but to stay awake and on watch. 

Early in the morning, he awakes the others to say that the prisoner seems to be conscious. The adventurers quickly arise and, after pointing out to Desro what will happen if he makes any false moves, removes his gag. The man claims that his name is Rand, asks why they had laid an ambush for him and his friend Thalin in their hut and points out that they were defending themselves. This line of argument has no effect, especially with Gareth saying that he should die because he is evil and Raog saying that he is lying and should be killed immediately. When Nameless says they are only interested in Desro and are happy to kill anyone else who isn't important, the man changes tack and promises to tell them the truth. He then reveals himself to be a female changeling, turning into her natural form and then into that of a human female.

She reveals that her name is really Cail and she is a mercenary. She’d met Desro years ago when he was a fugitive at Black Pit, in northern Breland. He recently contacted her while passing through Sharn, where she was, and asked her to hire a tracker (Thalin) and meet him here. They were hired by Desro to accompany him and help him locate a strange mound with a cave nearby by tracking down and ambushing an orc that used to visit it. Once they’d done so (the previous afternoon), they’d been told to return here and that she should wear his form when in the forest. The pair had gone to town for supplies and returned to find the tracks of the PCs, who were waiting for them. She has no idea what Desro wanted with the cave but says she will lead the group to him if they let her go afterwards.

The group tentatively agrees to accept her aid and not kill her, and Gareth heals her enough so that she will not collapse. Though she argues that if Desro finds her with them he will kill her, they keep her manacled and only give her some clothes. When they ask about the chest, she says that Desro used to keep some personal materials in it. After triggering the trap on it, they open it to find many mundane items, a large ledger with some numbers in it, and a large locked lead box. Bashing it open, they find and take some 300 galifars, as well as some costly incense and other components used in casting spells such as augury and divination. It also contains a small folding altar to the Traveler, another member of the Dark Six, god of cunning and deception.

***
Once they are all ready, the group heads off into the forest, following Cail's directions. On the way, Raog asks them about their aims and plans in Sharn, as well as whether they are interested in accepting more such jobs. The adventurers make no promises but say that the possibility is always there. Cail leads them to a rough, overgrown trail about five hundred feet from the cabin, which leads north. It eventually disappears but Cail leads them onwards for about three miles or two hours travel for the group. Eventually they encounter an unnaturally tangled mass of vegetation, literally forming a wall about ten feet high. Luna opines that it is the result of a plant growth spell. Near the spot where they reach the wall, there is a five foot wide path that someone has hacked and burned through it. Cail says that was the work of Thalin, Desro and her.

Proceeding though the 'wall, the group finds it to be about fifty feet thick. Emerging within, they find it forms a huge circle, probably over six hundred feet in diameter. Some fifty feet away from them is a low mound of earth and rock, strangely devoid of vegetation. As they head towards it, some of them notice that there are literally no bird or animal noises in this area, though they had encountered enough on the way there. Cail says the entrance is around the edge of the mound to their right and Six scouts ahead, returning to say that there is a rectangular cave opening (6 x 8 feet) there, which is too regular to be natural and with what seems to be a raised threshold. There is also dried blood on the threshold.

Cail says that Desro, Thalin and she ambushed and killed a young orc who came out of the cave, stripped the body and dragged it into the rocks above. Though she says where it is, nobody cares to check it, and they all head for the entrance. Reaching it, they find that there are rough runes carved into it, in very ancient orcish, partly missing over time. Gareth deciphers these as reading, “… lies … for … for evil … here … you … are”. Nameless has more success, reading, “Here lies … for change, for good … evil. Know ... well before …. The Green will … you here. The Old Ones were, are and ever …”.

As the group is about to head into the tunnel, which has steps leading down into the darkness, Six hears the sound of metallic footsteps coming closer from within. The source turns out to be an old orc with stringy hair, wearing banded mail and with a greataxe strapped to back, who emerges slowly and look around cautiously. He asks the group what they want and introduces himself as a guardian of the mound, placed in magical slumber and woken recently by an intruder. When they describe Desro and say they seek him, he confirms that was what the intruder and says he slew him. When they ask to see the body, he asks them to enter the mound with him. Gareth detects no evil on him.

When they enter the tunnel, everyone except Luna and Raog feels a cold chill travel up his arms and disappear into his spine. Nameless also has a very strong sense of déjà vu, as if he has been here or somewhere similar before. The air within is musty but surprisingly breathable. The steps lead down about twenty feet to a straight tunnel, which heads in a straight line for sixty feet, before turning right. About fifty feet away is an archway, silhouetted by a glimmer of green light from beyond it. Just as the group is turning the corner, the orc attacks, neatly slicing off Cail's head and revealing himself as Desro. Battle erupts, with Desro causing some damage and taking some more, but it is over quickly. With an "I'll see you soon," Desro uses a spell and dimension doors away. Rushing outside the mound, the group does not see him, and they return to the tunnel. 

The green light emanates from a circular room, about sixty feet across and thirty feet high. The body of a snakelike creature with a deep purple body covered in fine scales, a tail with a barbed stinger and an eel-like head with a human visage, lies against one wall (Nameless identifies it as a naga, a species of aberration). The creature is dead, slain by a slashing weapon, with a pool of dried blood beneath it. Checking it, Corven determines that some of the wounds are older than others, that it has been dead for a day and somebody cut its tongue out. 

The room has an open doorway (which the adventurers came through) set into an arch and another seventeen such arches spaced equally around the room. Unlike the open doorway, the other arches have a curtain of dim green light blocking them. Large runes in orcish are carved into the floor, which read “Here lie the minions of the daelkyr. Show your worthiness. Free, destroy and pass.” Corven also finds a  much more recent chalk inscription behind the naga, reading “P.S. It’s a trap!”

Nameless opines that this area is a test of some kind, where one must free an aberration and slay it. When throwing a piece of the naga at an archway has no effect, he touches one. Immediately, the green light disappears from the alcove directly across from it, revealing the alcove to be about five feet deep and holding two strange creatures, consisting of a floating, spherical body with a large eye and multiple stalks that bear smaller eyes at the end, which all of the group have heard of but never encountered. The two beholders* seem to be wounded and in a state of mindless rage, as they fly shrieking into the chamber, beams lancing from the various eyes.

As battle begins, the group quickly discovers that the gaze of the central eye can stun them. By the end of the fight, Gareth is exhausted by an eye-beam, Raog is stunned and rendered asleep, Corven is stunned, Nameless is rendered asleep, and Six is paralyzed. Luna and some of the others are also badly burned and wounded by other eyebeams. Luckily for the group, the creatures are too enraged to use particularly good tactics and leave themselves open enough to attacks to also be taken down soon enough, more quickly than would otherwise be due to their already wounded state.

Nameless, before being affected by a sleep effect, summons a celestial bison - or tries to. To his surprise, he feels something in the area warp his spell, and when the bison appears it bears a crest of small tentacles along its back. He realizes that it is a pseudonatural creature, the kind that Lillia back in Sharn had mentioned, and he tries to remember the way he felt the magic change upon casting, hoping to replicate it later.

As soon as the two creatures are dispatched, one of the green lights flickers out, revealing a tunnel beyond.  The tunnel beyond leads forward for about forty feet before ending at a door, which has a pair of carved hand-prints in it.. Carvings on the tunnel walls depict aberrations of various kinds emerging from portals and fighting various creatures (especially orcs and hobgoblins), with the latter forcing the aberrations back towards the portals. Midway up the tunnel is a folded piece of parchment placed on the floor. Opening it, Gareth reads, “Question – What is scarier than being in a room with an invisible enemy?” 

Presuming it has been placed there as a taunt by Desro, Nameless suggests that the group rest before continuing onwards. Returning to the top of the mound (though not before Luna removes and takes the beholder stalks as trophies), the group makes camp. The evening and early night pass peaceably, but well before dawn, somebody fires a searing light into the camp, barely missing Raog, who is on watch with the unsleeping Six. They quickly wake the others, but there is no other sign of an intruder, other than a discarded scroll. With no target to follow, the adventurers return to their bedrolls.

***
In the morning, they head back into the mound. Nameless, presumably feeling a little impatient, walks straight up to the door and sticks his palms into the carved hand-prints. Immediately, a column of flame engulfs him. When it disappears, he collapses instantly**, with only a barrage of hurried healing keeping him from dying. Soon enough he is back on his feet, though missing most of his hair and all of his eyebrows. 

Even as Nameless collapses, an orcish voice from the door says, “Only those true in blood and faith may pass.” Surmising that this means an orc druid needs to open the door, the adventurers discuss what to do. Having seen what happened to Nameless, Raog refuses to risk it, despite his orcish blood. Finally Luna says she will risk it, counting on her druidic training and makes the attempt. When she places her hands in the slots, she feels a chill begin to spread across the palm, until it grows exceedingly cold. Then the slots slide out till her hands are flush with the door and it opens by sliding sideways. Investigation reveals that it rolls shut after thirty seconds and has similar palm-prints on the other side.

The room beyond is another circular one, forty feet across, with a door in the far wall and doors to the two sides. All three have similar hand slots, with the one in the far wall having some small writing on it. The room is also full of (mostly) life-size statues of two kinds – various aberrations, each of them with plants writhing up and around them, and orcs and hobgoblins, all in martial or spellcasting postures. It is lit by four continual flame stones embedded in the wall, though each gives only a feeble glow. Once the adventurers enter, they see another folded piece of parchment against the far door. While Gareth approaches the door to read the one word on it (“Seal”), Nameless opens the note to read, “Answer: Being in a room with an invisible enemy with a sword”. While they are doing so, they hear spellcasting from one side of the room, revealing Desro's presence.

Desro appears as he strikes the approaching Gareth with a powerful strike and the adventurers swarm him. Gareth, Six and Raog surround him, quickly joined by a pair of bison (pseudonatural again) summoned by Nameless, while Luna and Corven launch blasts of flame (him from a wand, her from a spell) at him. They quickly discover that he has some resistance to magic, since it sometimes fails to effect him, as well as to fire and non-magical weapons. The multiple attacks on him do begin to overpower him gradually. Not before he badly wounds one of the bison and Gareth, however, and more irritatingly, smashes his greatsword through Six's spiked chain and Gareth's magical sword, breaking both into pieces. Still, Desro is badly wounded by this point and dimension doors away again, drawing cries of frustration from the adventurers.

All of them rush back out of the mound again. As Luna, in the lead, emerges, a vertical blast of lightning slams down right in front of her and a thick voice from further up the mound says, "Hold!" Luna ignores the warning and rushes out, followed by her allies, some of whom stop to see that the voice comes from an elderly orc wielding a staff and wearing ancient-looking hide armor. He calls, "Hold, intruders, or I will slay you!", and some quick talking from Nameless and Gareth persuades him not to attack.

This orc also claims to be the guardian of mound (and a Gatekeeper) and says he is called Gurr'khan, and it emerges that the orc Desro, Cail and Thalin killed was his apprentice. The fact that he just saw someone fitting Desro's description appear a hundred feet outside the mound and disappear again makes him a little more amenable to the group's assertion, though he remains a little suspicious. Unsurprisingly, so do they, and Nameless asks Gurr'khan to let him cast a detect magic to ascertain that he is not Desro in disguise. He agrees, though he tells a very large bear that has ambled around the mound to join him to "Eat him if he does something silly." When the spell reveals no illusions, he asks the group to accompany him back into the mound, to see if it has been desecrated.

Following him, they return through the room of alcoves (he seems a little impressed at the sight of the dead beholders and says, "You must be more competent than you look") into the one where they fought Desro. There, while he opens the door marked "Seal", Gareth sadly picks up the shards of his weapon, to feel a strong sensation that he should join them together. When he does, there is a flash of light and a curiously draining feeling, and the broken pieces begin to meld together, till the sword is whole again. 

Meanwhile, Gurr'khan opens the door to reveal a strange room. Following him in, the adventurers see that it contains a circular chasm some eighty feet across, with a 10 ft wide stone walkway around it. On the far side is a humanoid-shaped cavity about the size of an ogre carved into the stone, with a border full of large dragonshards embedded into it, glowing in the light from the pool below. Forty feet below is what seems to be a strange pool, covered in matter which constantly changes its nature in parts. Sometimes fire, earth, air, water and other elements, it shifts unendingly. Ten feet above the lake in mid-air floats a circular stone slab some two feet in thickness and with a radius of fifteen feet. It is covered with runes and diagrams of various kinds. Some of the runes resemble those used for notations in planar study. As the group looks around the room they all feel a roiling and queasy feeling in their stomachs (including Six, who actually has no stomach).

Gurr'khan examines the alcove and returns, to have Nameless ask him, "Is this a dimensional seal?" He nods and says with an appreciative tone, "Ah, you are a scholar! We shall talk." He then checks the other two rooms. One is an unused bedroom/study, with a stone bed, shelves carved in the wall, and a stone desk. The other has no furniture and is full of shelves holding crudely made stone urns, totaling well over a hundred. Each has a name carved on it, usually orcish in nature, and the words “Guardian” before it. A few say “Initiate” instead and a couple say “Hierophant”.

Closing the doors, Gurr'khan scratches his head and says, "It seems that no serious damage has occurred, though I will need to investigate further. Your presence here may have helped. I am curious to know more, so will you join me for the night?" The adventurers agree and follow the old druid out of the mound.

* Gauth, to be precise 
** Flame Strike, which (combined with a failed save) took him straight from 26 to -33 hit pts. Yay for action pts!


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar 9/19/05

After our successful ambush, we begin to take stock of our situation.  We check on our victims noting that one of them is dead, while the other is unconscious.  We heal ourselves, and strip the equipment of the half-elf all the way down to his loin-cloth.  Raog identifies this half-elf as Desro, which we proceed to take extra measure in tying him up, and I place my manacles over his hands.  Nameless wanted to kill him, almost too eager, but I was able to convince him of not taking this course of action.  It seemed to have proved a good choice.

We begin to disarm the traps of the house, and the chest inside the house.  There is a wealth of treasure here I have not seen in a while.  The only item I could use, a magical bag that allows for the holding of many equipment, is taken by Raog.  The rest of the group is able to gain some items of serious note.  We proceed to rest for the night without being harassed.

In the morning, we question the half-elf, as it changes into female guise.  She tells us about some of the magical items, and then proceeds to beg for her life.  Traveling with Nameless for a while, we had come up with the "bad sheriff, good sheriff" routine that seems to work well.  While I would not kill this wretch of a person without more cause, I inform her that I am fully obligated to dispatch her if she does not help us.  The fact that she is radiating evil is good enough for me.  Nameless, is obviously more enthusiastic about killing her, almost too enthusiastic.  This changeling, her name is Cail, is a mercenary who has known Desro over the years.  She tells us some information, and I give her my personal guarantee that if she helps us - to our satisfaction - we will set her free once we apprehend Desro.  She is not happy about this, but realizes that her options are limited, so she helps us out.

Cail leads us to a cave where she last saw Desro.  We go inside and are greeted by a half-orc claiming to be the guardian.  The guardian offers to let us into the area below.  As we walk I have a sudden feel of something pressing down on me, but do not know what it is. As we continue further, this half-orc shows his true form as Desro as soon as he cuts Cail's head off.  A battle ensues, where I do not perform so well.  Desro teleports away via Dimension door, and we try and charge to find him, but fail to do so.

We continue down the area and find a dead Naga in the area.  The creature has been dead for a day or so, and its tongue was removed.  Probably some spell component, but only the one who removed the tongue really knows.  The room we were in has seventeen archways with a curtain of green light.  After reading the inscriptions Nameless voices my thoughts and guesses that this area is some kind of test.

Nameless touches one of the shimmering doors and two beholder-kin appear.  A battle ensues that takes a lot out of us.  These creatures can do many things in a round and their spells are pretty tough.  Luckily, with the blessing of the Silver Flame, I am able to resist most of their spells.  Unfortunately, most of the group is either stunned or falls asleep.  

Nameless had summoned a celestial Bison, at least it wasn't the fiendish kind, but a pseudo natural appears.  He has not been able to do this before, so it must be due to this area.  We are able to best these creatures.

After we defeat these creatures a tunnel appears beyond the light.  We follow this path and I find a note, which I read: "Question - What is scarier than being in a room with an invisible enemy?” I quip a return "Being in a room with two invisible enemy."  At this point Nameless suggests we go out and rest, then come back later.

That night, while sleeping, we are attacked by a Searing Light spell, which misses Raog.  Six and Raog wakes everyone up and I charge to where the light was reported to come from.  We could not find the attacker so we went back to sleep

After sleeping for the night we went back down to the cave. Ignoring the past reading, or, I guess, feeling the test is over, Nameless puts his hands to the door.  A column of flame slam down on top of him, and how I do not know, he managed to survive the fire.  We then hear a voice that says only those true of faith and blood may pass.  We figure from the words that either an orc or a druid needs to open the door.  Raog, being a half-orc, seems to have the blood to do it, but definitely not the faith, or at least the courage.  Our druid companion, Luna, accepts the task and places her hands on the door.  Luna is able to open the door and the group passes through.

We enter another circular room, and after some looking see it has a handset to allow an exit.  Since we know we can get out we continue our passage into this room, which has many life sized statues of various aberrations.  We see another note, which Nameless reads "Answer: Being in a room with an invisible enemy with a sword."

Personal Note:  My answer was much better, for I have seen many people who can do more damage with their bare hands, then with a sword.

Realizing there is someone invisible in the room I pull out a bag of flour, a trick my father taught me to deal with invisible foes.  I have no idea where our assailant might be so I decide to move around the room until he hits me - which he does, with full force.  I do not need to throw my flour at him, because his invisibility wore off, but I decide to anyhow - hoping it will blind him temporarily - it doesn't.

A battle ensues, and we quickly surround Desro.  I still do a poor job of hitting the person, and cannot fathom why I am failing to hit him.  The same cannot be said for him, and as the battle gets desperate for him Desro swings around and strikes at Six's and my weapon.  Both of them shatter into pieces.  I continue to fight, enraged and saddened, pulling out a dagger and striking.  Desro decides this is not enough, and uses his dimension door spell to exit the area.

I sink to the ground, on my knees, realizing that my fathers and his fathers and his fathers sword, going as far back as our family lineage can tell has been shattered.  I have done what no other before me has been able to do, and that is to allow Kismet to be destroyed.  For some reason, unknown to me, I start to place the pieces of the sword next to each other, in the form of the sword.  I then feel a surge of energy in my being, and to my great awe the sword starts to nit and meld back together as if it is the rare and mystical Aururum.  In a matter of moments the sword is whole, as if nothing happened to it.

After the sword becomes whole Nameless screams for us to charge.  Luna is in the lead and as she is about to run out a column of lightning strikes down in front of her.  She hears a "HOLD!" and ignores it, running forward.  We all get outside and see an orc in very old hide armor.  He commands us to stop or he will slay us.  He demands information.

Nameless and I introduce ourselves, and the orc informs us that he is the guardian of the mound.  He introduces himself as Gurr'khan.  Gurr'khan offers us some information, and asks us to follow him, but Nameless demands that he prove himself.  Nameless casts a detect magic spell, but does not see any illusion spells cast upon him.

We head on down into the cave into a room with dragon shards along the archway.  We pass this archway into a circular room that has a chasm.  At the bottom is slab of stone that seems to float on fire, then air, then water, then earth, and other elements.  After being satisfied with his inspection, Gurr'khan invites us back to his cottage so we can continue speaking.


----------



## shilsen

*Interaction with Gurr'khan (handled over email):*

Gurr'khan first goes up the mound to the spot where he'd been standing when you first saw him. There is the bloodied corpse of a young orc lying behind a large rock there. Gurr'khan says simply, "My apprentice Bharmak," before picking up the body and placing it on the back of the bear, which has accompanied him, where he secures it with some rope. Then he leads you towards the surrounding wall of plants, in the opposite direction from which you came.

When he reaches the wall, he casts a spell (Reduce Plants, some of you realize) to create a pathway through it, albeit an overgrown one, and leads you through it. Once you are on the far side, he casts another spell (Plant Growth) to regrows the vegetation. He leads you into the forest for another hour, before you reach a large clearing with a pond and a cottage standing beside it. The cottage is made of stone and seems to be quite sturdy. He asks you to wait and takes the corpse inside, and returns after a short while while to rejoin you. He produces some crude stools and a small table, as well as a couple of bowls of fruit and a large ewer of water. Inviting you to eat and rest, he sits down cross-legged and leaning against the bear (which promptly falls asleep). "So," he says, looking around at all of you, "Tell me exactly who you are and what you do in my domain. And more about this intruder that you (he nods at Nameless) said you were pursuing."

***
Gareth: 
Following Gurr'khan to his cottage, he notes the path. While he does not doubt his chances of getting lost, Gareth would at least like some sense of location. Once inside the cottage, Gareth takes a drink of water before speaking, "My name is Gareth Deneith, holy warrior of the Silver Flame. We have travelled here from Sharn in the attempts to capture this person alive" looking at Nameless, "or dead. He is called Desro. He is a traitor and deserter, as well as thief and murderer." Pausing for a moment, "What is the area we were at, and why would Desro have interest in it?"

***
"We are mercenaries in this affair, though I think we may have earned the emnity of Desro. This gentleman (pointing at Raog) had hired us to hunt down Desro for some of his various crimes. He had received information that he would be at a cabin in the woods several miles from here. So we located the cabin and laid an ambush for him. After a fierce pitched battle we managed to take down someone who we thought was Desro and a Half-elf ally of his. The false Desro had only just survived and the Half-elf was not so lucky." 

Namless pauses for a second, "Ah, we left the Half-elf's corpse back at the cabin if it is of any interest to you as they both aided Desro in killing your apprentice. The Changeling's corpse you probably passed on the stairs of the mound. She had quickly revealed the deception as we weren't terribly inclined to keep Desro alive. So she told us about how they helped Desro to murder your apprentice at the mound, before he had them wait back at the cabin where we fought them. I suspect that he did this to rid himself of them and that he knew or suspected that someone was or would be after him and know about the cabin. I suspect that Desro betrays people as often as other yawn." 

"But I digress. We made her lead us to the mound on the chance that we could still catch him. We did encounter him, but he was disguised to look like one of your guardians and only revealed the deception when he decapitated the changling. After a brief skirmish he used magic to vanish. We pressed on to try and determine what his interest was in the mound, as pursuit proved futile. You've pretty much been told the rest. What his interest was is still unclear, though obviously this place has some key role with regards to the Dalkyr and their servants. You've already told us that one of the seals is here." 

***
Gurr'khan's expression darkens as each of you speak, but he does not reply to either of your comments for a moment. Finally, he says, "This news is not good. I have not heard of this Desro, but then I do not ... how do you say it ... get around much. But I have suspicions of why he came here."

His expression darkens further, and he gestures at Nameless as he speaks, "As you noted, the place you visited holds one of the dimensional seals that holds Xoriat at bay. There are very few such in Breland, the manifest zones to the Realm of Madness being much more common in what your people call the Shadow Marches, and to a lesser extent, in the Eldeen Reaches. This is an especially strong one, since it blocks an actual portal to Xoriat, one which the daelkyr used millennia ago to send their forces into Khorvaire. My people fought them back and sealed it, and ever since, some of my blood and faith have guarded it. I am Gurr'khan, Gatekeeper guardian, and I guard this place with my life!" 

By this point he is getting quite animated, waving his arms to illustrate his points. A sleepy growl from the bear draws his attention and he growls back, "Shut it, hairy!" (which doesn't draw any response), but he does seem to calm down. He doesn't look any more cheerful, however. Taking a deep breath, he continues, "Anyway, as I was saying ... the strength of the portal has some strange effects near the seal, in the area within the mound. Magic is sometimes warped and those who stay there too long are changed." He taps himself on the chest in emphasis, and you notice a strange ripple run along the clothing of his chest. "The alcove you saw, marked with the dragonshards, was created to focus those energies, with some of my kind choosing to let themselves be changed so as to fight the daelkyr and their followers with their own energies. Those who stand within for a long time are mutated according to their nature, whether good or evil. This Desro may have come here in search of that power."

He pauses, and then says, "Or perhaps he came to find this place and gain knowledge of it. There are fools on this world who would break the seals and unleash the daelkyr upon us again. Perhaps this Desro is one of those fools." He falls silent and mumbles to himself for a moment and then says, "This place has been secret for centuries, with only a few knowing of its location. Now this Desro knows - and so do you. Even now I wonder, what should I do with you?" He eyes you all and scowls in thought.

***
Sensing a potential fight, but not wanting to cause anymore alarm, Gareth, with his best diplomatic speech (you can roll it Shil) speaks, "Peace be to you Gatekeeper. This Desro we are seeking is a fairly powerful villain, and it would be more beneficial to you and your cause if we were around to help. We do not wish to see this Desro gain any power, nor reveal the location of this place. I can promise you, on the Silver Flame itself, that I will not speak of this location to anyone outside this group. I can also promise you that I do not mean to break the seals or release any evil, nor do I pine to gain the power that may be stolen from the cave. I have a little bit of knowledge on the matters of which you speak, though not as much as my comrade or yourself. Let us work together, to remove Desro so he is not a threat. Once this has been completed, we can continue the issue you may have of us knowing about this place."

***
Nameless: 
"If it is your task to guard this place, then it would be foolish for you to leave it abandoned and open to those who would exploit it. As you would do if you left to pursue Desro. We are already engaged in hunting him, so it would seem to me that you might as well make use of that and let us track him. One of your faith is already among us and she was trained by a fellow Gatekeeper. So even if you do not trust the rest of us, you should be able to trust her." 

"As for myself, I am a seeker after knowledge, which is how I know of such things. I have no interest in loosing the Daelkyr, they are little more than spoiled children who delight only in the breaking of things. I am willing to swear whatever oaths you wish to that effect." 

***
Gurr'khan nods slowly in agreement and says, "You speak well. My absence has already led to the death of Bharmak and I cannot leave this place - or at least not unless I know there are other guardians and I take some precautions. If you are already pursuing Desro, perhaps helping you will serve as well as undertaking the quest myself." 

He seems to consider for a bit and then says, "Oaths have little meaning to me. I feel you speak truly, and if you did lie now, nothing would prevent you from breaking an oath either. Still, I ask you not to mention what you have seen here to anyone. Well, except some people I have in mind. You," (he says to Gareth) "said that you are from Sharn. Will you carry a message there for me? A few of my people are there and I will need them to send me another apprentice to replace Bharmak." He scowls again and adds gloomily, "And they must know what has happened here - and some other things. Something is stirring. Xoriat seeks to extend its reach."

***  
Gareth: 
Listening to Gurr'khan, and knowing that he is making some sense now, "I would be honored to take your message to Sharn. We could definitely use your help also. I think our biggest problem with Desro, other then his sheer power, is his ability to teleport away from combat when things get rough for him." Turning to Nameless, "It seems Desro is able to resist many of your spells, including your slow spell. Do you happen to have a haste spell? I think that would help us out more. A possible action is to have one or more of us hold our actions, and the moment he tries to dimension door, we hit him with everything we got. He probably won't do this until the 2nd or 3rd stage of combat."

***
Gurr'khan waves a hand dismissively. "Typical coward who will not stay and fight, it seems. Anyway, I doubt that he is still around, but I should check on that. Excuse me for a while. Rest here, but do not enter my hut. Bur'al here," he indicates the bear, "Might not take that well. Otherwise, you do not need to worry about him." 

With that, he rises to his feet and takes a few steps away, before transforming into an eagle. With a flap of his wings, he rises into the air and heads south at considerable pace.

***
You get some time to yourselves and two hours later (just after noon), the eagle returns and transforms into Gurr'khan. Walking over to join you, he says, "I have found no sign of this Desro. I did find the hut where you said he and his allies were staying, but it was deserted. I looked around the area for tracks and found those of some half dozen horses leaving the area quite recently - maybe an hour before I reached there - but that was it. I believe our quarry is gone for now." 

Raog jumps up and says, mostly to himself, "Horses? Son-of-a- bitch stole the horses?  - that totally kills any little profit I might have made!" Gurr'khan gives him a dirty look and he subsides. 

Gurr'khan continues, "It will take you a good eight hours to reach the Keep on foot. I do not go there, but I know how far away it is." He looks at the sun and then says, "You would not reach it by nightfall. You are welcome to stay here and leave tomorrow, if that suits you." 

(OOC: As far as you know, the ship you came here on be heading back to Sharn tomorrow, though you do not know when. Constant traveling from where you are would get you to it in twelve hours.) 

***
Looking at Roag, just as equally if not more, with a dirty look. "Your hospitality is generous, and we may take it, but that depends the mode of transportation we can find tomorrow. I would rather be on the heels of this person so he does not have time to rest." Looking at Luna and Nameless, "Do either of you have a way to summon mounts for us? Or some other mode of fast transportation?" 

***


----------



## shilsen

Written by shilsen - 9/25/05

*Session 8 - Many Meetings*

Discovering that they have no quick transportation, the adventurers ask Gurr'khan for help. He says that he will produce some and flies deeper into the forest in eagle form, returning nearly an hour later on the shoulder of a treant, who turns out to be both uncommunicative and a trifle deaf. It is, however, willing to carry the group to the forest's edge. Before they leave, Gurr'khan writes and gives them a sealed message, which they are to deliver to someone called Surr'kal at the Gatehouse in Carosten Park. After giving it to them, he remembers something he forgot and tells them to add that "Yarkuun Draal stirs. This is no coincidence." Nameless recognizes the name as that of one of the greatest cities of the hobgoblin empire of Dhakaan, located in the Siln Highland south of Sharn and believed to be haunted. Before leaving, he asks Gurr'khan if he can return later to learn more of this place, and the old druid agrees.

The treant picks them up, placing some on his shoulders and carrying others, and quickly heads south. It only comes to a stop two hours later, where the forest is thinning. Since it doesn't seem about to lower anyone, Nameless tries to climb down and falls off, which attracts the treant's attention enough for it to lower everyone before marching off. Along with Raog, whom it forgets to lower, causing him to yell and jump off too.

The group continues to the town surrounding Shadowlock Keep, where they arrive three hours later to learn that Desro (now with a different appearance) arrived there some hours ago with their horses. A disgusted Raog leaves the group at this time, quite upset about the loss of the horses, but not before asking them to come speak to his boss Kaar'Aashta in Sharn. The adventurers ask questions of many people in town, ranging from beggars to pickpockets (Corven enticing an urchin into trying to pickpocket him) to merchants to innkeepers, and find that Desro sold the horses to a shifty-looking half-orc, who left town with them shortly after. They investigate a disreputable tavern-cum-inn called The Witch's Teat, which their investigations indicate he entered, but find no trace of him and conclude that he left in disguise. They spend the night at a much better inn called The Hairy Halfling (Ghallanda-run, of course). Corven creates a whispering wind spell and sends it to the ship, asking the captain to wait for them.

The next morning, they head south and arrive at the fishing village and are quickly aboard. Captain Gorin confirms that he received the magical message from Corven, which is why he waited instead of leaving at dawn. He also says that the sahuagin prisoners are fineand he is waiting to get them back to Sharn for interrogation. The ship leaves soon after the group is on board and heads south and east.

The trip is uneventful other than for the sight of a dead whale some distance from the ship's route. It turns out to have been dead for a while, going by the scavengers feeding off it, and slain by something very large, going by the sections where it has had the flesh ripped off in large strips. The crew and mercenaries make random guesses about what killed it but can make no sure conclusion. Other than that, the only event on the trip is a small squall, which creates no other trouble than some seasickness among those aboard the ship.

***
The ship eventually reaches on Mol the 23rd, 10 days after they left. There are the usual customs inspectors present at the docks, but Quinn is also present and apparently has enough influence to stop them from bothering the group. After speaking to Captain Gorin, he thanks them for their help and pays them the promised 150 galifars each. He also asks if they might be interested in helping with any further investigations on the sahuagin issue, as well as other jobs that might fit their eclectic skills. They say, as usual, that they might be interested depending on the job but cannot promise anything. Quinn says that he will contact them at their inn if he does need them, and leaves with a parting thank you.

Heading up to Sharn proper, the group heads to the Happy Harvest inn. Palk greets them as they come in and gives Gareth an envelope that was delivered for him on the 12th. It has a House Sivis seal on it, evidently having traveled through their message service, and contains a letter each from his mother and his grandmother. Palk also mentions that Bodo showed up some six or seven days ago, hung around for a day and then left. Palk has not seen him since.

After a meal at the inn, some of the group head in different directions. Nameless visits the Guild of Starlight and Shadows, spending some time there transcribing a spell from their library to his spellbook, before visiting Trillia at her home. There he tells her a little of what he encountered during the trip and also asks her for details about dimensiona seals in general and about any in Cyre, in particular. Gareth visits the Cathedral of the Silver Flame, where he attends the evening service. Golar, the acolyte who has spoken to him a few times before, sees him and comes over to greet him. Golar mentions that Bodo seemed to have trouble with the discipline of the Cathedral (he hastens to add that the boy was not mistreated in any way) and left there about a week ago. Gareth lets him know that he already knows about that.

Corven, meanwhile, visits the Cyran embassy. Attempting to get an appointment with Lord Jairan, he discovers that the ambassador is free at the moment and gets to meet him. Jairan is quite pleased to see Corven and even more so when the artificer says that he has thought about it and agreed to take on the position as current head of the family. Jairan suggests that they have the investiture ceremony four days later, the day after the festival of Aureon's Crown. He says that the ceremony will be quite simple and will be followed by a formal banquet, to which he hopes some local dignitaries will come. Corven will be officially noted as head of the ir'Lanya house in the records of the embassy and the news will be conveyed to Prince Oargev at New Cyre too. Jairan asks Corven to speak to Tyrala about this and some other matters that she wished to see him about (which Jairan seems to have no details about).

When Corven meets Tyrala, she notes his agreement to be invested and then tells him that there are two matters she wished to see him about. Cala Narain, the ranking ex-Cyran military officer in Sharn, has told her of the disappearances of three people from High Walls, where the majority of the Cyran refugees are located. She asks Corven to investigate these disappearances, if possible. Then she asks him very simply, "Are you a patriot?" When Corven replies, "Very much so," she says that in that case he must be interested in finding out about the cause of the Day of Mourning, as any true Cyran is. She proceeds to explain that some of her sources indicate that the Karrnathi embassy in town is currently housing a delegation that includes someone who was studying magical methods of mass destruction and may have had something to do with the Day of Mourning. It may be possible to arrange for either the Karrnathis to attend the banquet after Corven's investiture or to have Corven (and perhaps some members of his group) attend a dinner at the Karrnathi embassy. The fact that Corven will be taking on his noble position will facilitate such an encounter, as will the presence of a Karrnathi (Gareth) in the group. In either case, Corven and his companions can do a little subtle fact-finding for Tyrala. Corven agrees to the proposal, causing Tyrala to say that in view of his efforts, the regular 'donation for such investitures will be waived in his case.

When Corven returns to the inn and rejoins the others, he lets them know about his upcoming investiture and meeting with the Karrnathis. After a little prodding from Gareth, he shares all the information Tyrala did. Gareth and the others agree to attend and help in this regard. With the decision made, the group turns in for the night, planning to deliver Gurr'khan's message the next day.

***
The next morning, they make their way to Upper Central, where they are stopped a couple of times by guards looking for identification and looking silent askance at their weapons and armor. Entering the Skysedge Park district, they pass the park that the district takes its name from and see the 100 ft tall statue called the Iron Guardian. Entering Carosten Park, they discover the Gatehouse to be a squat stone building. There they meet Surr'kal, who is a middle-aged orc, and another younger druid (a shifter) named Teln. 

After reading the letter, Surr'kal checks with the group for more details about what happened with Gurr'khan. The adventurers speak about Desro but are quite discreet about the Seal and only mention it when Surr'kal says that the note says they have seen it. He shares a little information about Gurr'khan, who he says is one of the most powerful druids in Breland, saying that he has been changed in some ways by his work near the Seal, which is why he has a ring of tentacles on his stomach. Surr'kal also, a little hesitantly, asks the group if they are known as the Misfits. Nameless says that it is a good description but not their name, and he apologizes and says that he asked because that is what Gurr'khan refers to them as consistently in the letter.

Surr'kal asks Luna if she is interested in joining the Gatekeepers in Sharn, but she says that she would rather remain with the group, though she is not averse to learning about the Gatekeeper tradition. He also asks if the group is interested in helping him with a potential problem. He says that a pair of the Children of Winter (a druidic sect that some of the party have heard of in passing, and whom Luna knows a little about) are in the city and looking for something in the Cogs, and he is interested in finding out what they are after. He warns that the pair (a male human druid and a female shifter ranger) are powerful, as evinced by their slaying of a group of muggers who attacked them, and should be approached with caution. The supposed Misfits agree to check this out if they have the time. Before they leave, Surr'kal asks them to remain in touch, saying honestly that Gurr'khan is quite insistent that he keep an eye on the group since they are supposedly important for some reason (Gurr'khan has not specified). He also warns that they might see certain changes due to their time in the Seal room, even if it was for just a few minutes.

Leaving the druids, Nameless returns to the Guild for more spell-scribing and Gareth to the Cathedral. He asks a few people there about exorcism, since that is an area that he has training in but has had little opportunity to practice. He learns that there are no specific exorcists in the Cathedral, but the Archierophant herself is known to have done a few in her time, and very successfully so.

Meanwhile, Corven, Luna and Six return to the inn and are met there by the changeling Flan. He greets them and delivers a sealed message from Killian. The message reads only - "Greetings. You may be interested to know that the dreamlily den I mentioned, in the tenement district of Tumbledown, is flourishing and dozens of people are getting addicted daily. Congratulations. K" Corven sends back a message that perhaps the group will do something about in return for payment and more information, and arranges a meeting with Killian at the Lucky Nines casino, where they had met before. Shortly after Gareth and Nameless return, the Misfits also receive a message from Karr'Aashta asking them to meet him at their convenience, which draws comments that at this rate the group needs a secretary to track their appointments.

At eight that night, the group reaches the Lucky Nines, to find Killian at the same table as before. He greets them jovially and seems in very good spirits. He teases the group, especially Gareth, for being mercenary enough to ask for payment for doing a good deed. After a little verbal sparring, the Misfits agree to eliminate the Daask drug den for a payment of 250 galifars each, half of which Killian pays on the spot. He also promises that no organization he works for (he claims to be "purely freelance") nor he himself will set up a similar drug den in Tumbledown. He also promises to not reveal the identities of the group to anyone, in case Daask comes looking for hem for revenge. Killian claims (apparently honestly) that his main interest in the issue is because arranging the destruction of the Daask operation will gain him some 'prestige' in certain quarters. The Misfits are quite open about the fact that they do not trust him, but that does not seem to bother him at all. When Gareth, unable to spend more time with the gnome, suggests they leave, he bids them goodbye with a cheery "parting is such sweet sorrow" and watches them go.

Leaving the casino, the Misfits travel to the Deathsgate district and Karr'Aashta's Investigations. Though it is late, they catch him there and have a short meeting with him. He asks some questions about Desro and seems pleased to know that they are very interested in tracking down him down. Karr'Aashta also mentions Gurr'khan and the Seal, at which point the Misfits tell him to keep the information private. He agrees saying that it is not a subject that he deals with and goes on to ask them about their availability for other jobs, whether bounty hunting (as with Desro) or escort for an important individual or package, or to locate something. The Misfits say that they have a lot on their plate right now, but might consider it. Karr'Aashta says that he will let them know if he learns more about Desro or has some other potential job for them, after which they leave.

Walking back along the now much darker and relatively deserted skybridges of Deathsgate, the group walks into an ambush. or, more properly, Gareth does. In the lead, he just reaches a space between two buildings when a pair of crossbow bolts fly at him, one sinking painfully into his shoulder. The archers are a pair of halflings, who are accompanied by another pair, the latter two armed with daggers. These two move forward, one striking at Gareth and another at Corven.

Once the small muggers can see exactly how many people are in the group, they try to beat a fighting retreat. Unfortunately for them, Nameless quickly slows a couple of them and then summons a bison (this one not pseudonatural but celestial) that mashes one against the wall. Another manages to hit Gareth with a hurled dagger before being brought down by a combination of a hurled produce flame from Luna and Corven's crossbow, and Six's spiked chain splatters another's brains across the street. The last halfling throws away his dagger and falls to his knees, babbling to be saved.

Gareth, mightily irritated at being wounded, then ignored while asking for healing, and finally due to his inability to hit anything but thin air during the fight, heals himself and then goes off to find some guards. He locates pair who grudgingly accompany him. Once they see the situation, they drag the surviving halfling away and return with a couple more guards to get the bodies. Six hears the halfling say something about being "Boromar" to them (indicating his membership in the older and major crime gang in Sharn), but the guards seem to pay no attention other than to say, "So? Tell that to lady Iyanna" (leading Corven to assume they are referring to Iyanna ir'Talan, head of the Watch in Tavick's Landing and known to be a very honest officer. 

With the minor excitement for the evening apparently at an end, the Misfits head back to their inn.


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar
9/28/05

Gareth's Personal Log

After speaking with Gurr’khan for a while, he offers to get us some transportation.  He transforms into an eagle and darts off bringing back with him an ancient Treant.  This creature takes us on his shoulders and carries us to the edge of the forest.  Gurr’khan then asks me to carry a note for him, to a colleague, who lives in Sharn.  I take this note and promise to carry the message.

Nameless, again, tries to prove his climbing abilities but manages to fall from the shoulders of this magical tree.  From there, we continue by foot and get to Shadowlock Keep.  After doing some investigations, which helps a begger and a child pick-pocket, we find that Desro has sold the horses to a trader who immediately left town.  We continue to question around and I suggest we stay at the inn, and make some “noise” to help attract Desro.  Since he can change his appearance, I would prefer he come to us – since finding him would be near impossible.  Since we happen to have some of his valuables, he may want to get a hold of us.

The next morning we make our way back to the ship.  Captain Gorin waited for us, since he received a magical message from Corven.  On the way back to Sharn, we see a dead whale, belly up and with some chunks removed.  Apparently this is an anomaly, and as such the Captain does not want to investigate and attract whatever did that damage.  Note: It may be wise to speak with the captured Sahuagin.

After arriving at Sharn, 10 days after we left, we go through customs.  We are not harried by customs since Quinn is waiting there for us.  We, each, receive our payment for a job well done and he offers us a chance to do some more work in the future.  We tell him that it depends on the job.

After we leave the docks, we head back to the Inn.  I find out that Bodo has disappeared about six or so days prior to us returning.  Note: If I see Bodo I will give him one more chance, but after that he is on his own.  This is assuming Bodo was not kidnapped or killed.  On a bright note I receive a letter, delivered by House Sivis, from my mother and grandmother.  This is very exciting and I will not to create a response and send it off to them tonight or tomorrow.  We spend some time at the Inn, putting our stuff away, and then head back out.  Nameless goes off to some place, he says his guild, but I am sure the guild is the other way.  I ask him to get a spell of Haste, which I think will be more valuable –and certainly easier to use- then his Slow spell.  He gives me a look that I am sure was not meant for happy thoughts.

I head off to the Silver Flame Cathedral for services.  I also speak with an acolyte I met a while ago, Golar.  He informs me of Bodo’s problems with discipline, and that he is no longer around.  I also search around for information about Exorcism – something I think that will help in my cause to root out evil from the Church as well as the world.

I head back to the inn and am greeted by Corven.  He starts to speak to me about his investiture party, which I am glad to attend.  While I, personally, think it is silly to worry about such things, especially since he was about 15th in line, before his family died, I understand that Corven needs bonds and ties to his past.  Corven also mentions a party, and alludes to some information gathering from the Carnathan’s and the destruction of Cyre.  While speaking with him, I notice that he will not look me fully in the eye.  His vein, on his top right temple, also seems to be bulging a bit.  Corven was holding something back, but I do not wish to insult him by saying as such.  While I do not like secrets, and especially deception amongst comrades, I feel Corven would not do anything to cause harm to the group.  I do inform Corven that while I do plan to socialize and am willing to speak with Carnathan delegation party, I will not do anything to potentially insult them.  I also take this time to mention that I will invite Lalia to accompany me to the investiture and the party.

We head to sleep, having a busy and successful day, but before I do so I compose a letter to my family.

The next morning we head out to deliver Gurr’khan’s letter.  We speak to Surr’kal and he begins to question us about the Seal.  We do not mention anything until he gives us more information, confirming his awareness of the situation and Gurr’khan’s desire to have us speak to him about it.  We inform Surr’kal of our benign intentions and that we can offer help if he need’s it…again, assuming the help is something that does not violate my oaths to the Silver Flame, Justice or the betterment of innocents.  Surr’kal invites Luna to join the Gatekeepers, but she politely stalls, until she finds out more about what is needed.  Surr’kal asks us to investigate some happenings in the Cogs, referring to a group Children of Winter who has two druids down there.  We will check this out in a couple of day’s time.

We part company with Surr’kal, and Nameless heads back to work on his magic.  I go back to the Cathedral to get some more information about Exorcism, this time with success.  Apparently the Arc hierophant has accomplished some Exorcisms in the past.

When I return to the inn, I see the group is speaking with Flan.  Corven passes me a letter, from Killian, and I look at it with disgust.  One because of what has been going on, and two because Killian has the nerve to blame us for some gang’s doing.  We tell Flan to let Killian know we will meet him.

We head down to the Lucky Nines and speak with Killian.  I am quite frank with him, and not only inform him of my disgust for him, and mistrust, but that if I find he is trying to manipulate us for some sinister plot, he would have to worry about me.  After negotiations I get the party to leave, as this place as well as Killian makes me want to puke.

Leaving the Lucky Nines we head out to speak with Karr’Aashta.  We tell him about our trip, minus the Seal, but find out Roag has already told him about it.  Apparently Roag is not capable of keeping his promises either.  Karr’Aashta asks if he could use us to continue to find Desro, and we tell him we would happily do so, but not for the next few days.

We head back to the inn and are attacked but some muggers.  Again, for some unknown reason, I am failing to hit my opponents.  This has been going on for almost a fortnight, and it is increasingly frustrating.  I take the brunt of the blows from these guys, and they go down.  Nameless summons his celestial bison, and Luna starts throwing fists of flame.  I do, however, complain to the group for the lack of healing.  I inform them that if I am going to be in the front, acting as a shield, then I need someone behind me healing.  They tell me I am over-reacting, and then I show them the severe wounds.  One of the Halflings lives was spared as he begged for mercy.  We summoned the guards who took him away.  M66 overheard the Halfling mention “Boromar” and then the guard smacked him on the head.  According to Corven, the officer of the watch, Lady Iyanna is a straight edge and will not tolerate things, even from powerful gang members.

We continue back home, with a lot done, and knowing that we not only helped a good many souls, but angered some very evil ones.  A total success in my books.


----------



## shilsen

Written by shilsen - 10/9/05

*Session 9 - Even More Meetings*

Back at the inn, the Misfits have dinner and head for bed. A couple hours before dawn, Gareth awakes from a strange dream involving Nameless. Not completely sure how to interpret it, he decides to head to the Cathedral for guidance. The sounds of his departure wake Corven (coincidentally also in the middle of a strange dream) and Nameless. When they ask where he is going, Gareth doesn't respond but hurries out. Though curious, the pair go back to sleep.

Gareth makes his way through the mostly deserted skybridges and towers to the Cathedral, surprising the two drowsy guards outside. He is allowed in and speaks to the acolyte on duty, who absolutely refuses to wake the Archierophant that early, but promises to give her the news that he wishes to speak to her when she awakes. Gareth spends the next couple of hours in prayer, until those living in the Cathedral gradually awake and begin to fill the place. He attends the morning service and is then told that the Archierophant will see him an hour and a half later. 

Finally, around 10:30 in the morning, Gareth is brought to the same office where he spoke to her before, to find Ythana Morr awaiting him. As before, she is dressed in full priestly vestments and her full-plate armor. After exchanging greetings, Gareth describes his dream to her in detail and then asks for her opinion about it. Ythana tells him that it does seem like the Flame is speaking directly to him, which is a very rare occurrence, and one that should make him feel blessed. She asks for more information about Nameless, which he provides. After some thought, she says that such dreams and visions are difficult to decipher, and at this point Gareth should simply keep a careful eye on his companion and see what develops. Ythana also asks him to keep her informed of any discoveries, and he promises to do so. 

Before Gareth leaves, Ythana also talks to him about his interest in exorcism and promises to give him access to the limited materials that the Cathedral has on the subject. Then she blesses him and he leaves, after obtaining some holy water from the Cathedral.

***
The others, meanwhile, arise from their sleep, and let Luna and Six know about Gareth's departure. While they are at breakfast, Corven receives a messenger from the Cyran embassy with a pair of sealed envelopes for him. The large one has papers with details about the investiture and copies of the oaths that will be made there. Apparently the investiture will take place at noon on the 27th, two days later. The small envelope has a letter from Tyrala and a note. The letter asks Corven to meet her at the embassy on the 26th at 10 am. It also suggests that if he has the time, he should meet with Cala Narain (at the tavern The Bitter Draft) in the High Walls area of Tavick's landing, regarding the disappearances. If he is unable to do so, Cala will be present at the embassy on the 26th, so he can speak to her there.

After breakfast, Six departs to do some shopping, while Nameless heads to his mage guild and Luna says she will visit and speak to the druids in Carosten Park. Corven remains at the inn and is eventually met by the returning Gareth, who says that he has been at the Cathedral. The pair of them travels up to Clifftop and visit the Esoteric Order of Aureon, where Corven becomes a member. In the process of dealing with all the paperwork (which involves a little background, information about where he stays, finding out how skilled an artificer Corven is, etc), they discover that Nameless is not a member of the Esoteric Order. Both Corven and Gareth are a little surprised and wonder if he is a member of the Guild of Starlight and Shadows. They ask the secretary dealing with Corven's paperwork about the other guild and he speaks fairly disparagingly of it, claiming that it is somewhat lax in allowing in members of loose morals and proudly claiming that the Esoteric Order is much more highly regarded by law enforcement in the city, with its members sometimes helping the city watch.

Once the paperwork is all taken care of, Corven obtains access to one of the laboratories at the guild and spends the next eight hours working on enchanting Gareth's armor. He is aided by Gareth some of the time, who also spends time bathing the armor in holy water and blessing it, in the hope that this will aid in the enhancement process. Gareth also takes time off to visit the Deneith enclave in Dragon Towers and leave a message there asking Lalia to join him for Corven's investiture and the dinner afterwards.

Returning to the inn for dinner, they are met by the others, with Six now sporting two spiked chains again, since he has bought a new masterwork one. He says that he found it at a shop called the Mithral Blade, located in the host of small magic businesses known as the Mystic Market, which surrounds the tower of the Esoteric Order. He mentions that they have some magical weapons there too, which might be worth checking out in the future. Six has also obtained a scroll of make whole, which Gareth uses on the spiked chain broken by Desro, giving Six three weapons.

This night passes peacefully for all, with no untoward dreams.

***
The next day is the festival of Aureon's Crown, dedicated to the Sovereign Host's god of knowledge. Having heard, the previous day, that priests of Aureon and professors from Morgrave University gather at the Great Hall of Aureon in the university to give sermons and lectures on a host of topics, Six makes his way to the University District in Upper Menthis. Once he reaches Upper Menthis, a pair of passing guards caution him to not move about with his chains wrapped around him, as he tends to do, but otherwise he is not bothered. Over the course of the morning, he wanders around, sitting in on a number of different lectures and hearing interesting tidbits about Xen'drik, the origins of the warforged, the Mournland, constructs and intelligence, and other topics that interest him. Six also makes sure to note down names of people who might be useful sources for information on such subjects.

Gareth visits the Guild of Starlight and Shadows, finding it to be the tallest tower (though smaller than the Esoteric Order) in the Deathsgate district, one which is enchanted to perpetually display a night sky set with a myriad stars. Inside, he asks about Nameless and discovers that he is a member of the guild. When the secretary he speaks to asks for his name and if he wishes to leave a message, he simply says that he is "Gareth" and will speak to his companion later. From there he goes to the Esoteric Order, to await Corven.

Corven, meanwhile, has his meeting with Tyrala at the embassy. In her office, he is introduced to Cala Narain, the ranking Cyran ex-military officer in Sharn. Cala is a tall, athletic woman, with brown hair tied back in a ponytail, carrying some small facial scars as part of her military heritage. She has a fair amount of information for Corven, saying that three Cyrans (two men - Drass, Vendig - and one woman - Hestia) have disappeared over the last ten days or so from the High Walls area. Drass was a laborer, Vendig a blacksmith, and Hestia a maid. All were single and young, but don't seem to have anything else in common, though someone told her that he saw Drass and Hestia speaking together at a tavern. She also tells Corven about the poor situation of the Cyrans in High Walls, and mentions that with regard to law and order, unfortunately it is the Guardians of the Gate (the watch branch dedicated to dealing with foreign nationals) who have jurisdiction in High Walls, and their commander Baja Drel has shown little signs that she cares about the Cyrans. Cala has already spoken to Lady Iyanna ir'Talan, head of the Black Arch watch garrison in Lower Tavick's landing. Iyanna is a good, reliable commander, but with her watchmen not having jurisdiction in the area, she cannot do much. Corven sets up a meeting with Cala at The Bitter Draft for the 28th, and learns that he can also contact her at the New Cyre inn, where she lives.

Once their discussion is done, Tyrala (who left to give them time to discuss matters) returns and, after Cala leaves, discusses the investiture procedure with Corven. She also gives him more information about the dinner at the Karrnathi embassy, which will be on the 1st of Sul, three days later. She has arranged an invitation for them, since the Cyran embassy technically gets an invite to such occasions and Corven, once invested, will go as their representative, and can take his companions as an entourage. The individual she is interested in is retired general Dals Nelmo, also known as the Butcher of Eston. Corven recognizes the name from an infamous incident when Dals had three hundred unarmed Cyran troops executed so that there was no possibility that they could threaten his flank. Tyrala says that Dals claims to be stopping to meet the Karrnathi ambassador Syra ir'Tarrn before moving on to Korranberg in Zilargo, where he plans to study at the famous Library. She is frankly skeptical of this claim, especially since Dals was well-known for making heavy use of arcane support in the War and was (she believes) investigating arcane methods of mass destruction during the War. She believes that he is going to the Library to further that research. Whether he directly had something to do with the Day of Mourning or not, he possibly has information about it. 

After providing this information, she asks if it would be possible for any of Corven's companions to break into the general's room during the dinner and check on his belongings, warning that the Karrnathi embassy is known to be well-protected. Corven says that it might be possible, but says that he needs to discuss it with his companions. They decide that naturally it will draw attention if Corven were to do this himself and it should be left to someone else. Corven also suggests that it would help if Tyrala could find the group access to stealth-related and also mind-reading magic. Tyrala says she will do what she can, and also mentions that besides everything else, she would simply be interested in learning Corven's opinion about Dals after he interacts with the Karrnathi. Tyrala ends by saying that just in case someone gets caught in a compromising situation, she should be able to smooth it over, but suggests that Corven and his allies do not rely upon this.

Leaving the embassy, Corven goes to the Esoteric Order, where he meets Gareth and then spends some time working on Gareth's armor. Gareth mentions to Corven that he has confirmed that Nameless is a member of the Guild of Starlight and Shadows. While Corven is working on the armor, Gareth travels down to the Grayflood dock area. Catching one of the urchins moving around and offering their skills as a city guide, he asks about Bodo. The boy he speaks to says that he knows who Bodo is but hasn't seen him in a long time. Gareth promises him five gold pieces if he finds information that leads him to Bodo, and the excited boy promises to do whatever he can and to spread the word to all his friends. Begging a copper piece for the time being, he runs off. 

When the group reconvenes at the inn, Gareth confronts Nameless about "sneaking off to join the shady guild". Nameless argues that he was not sneaking around and simply didn't think it was worth mentioning. When Gareth argues that he has heard that those of Starlight and Shadows are more prone to evil, Nameless asks if he has any actual proof and says that it is just hearsay. Gareth finally settles for warning Nameless that he should watch where he steps, since it is easy to be seduced through the desire for knowledge and power into doing things one should not. Nameless responds that he'll let Gareth know if someone at the Guild starts killing random innocents, and the argument ends there.

Corven lets the group know about the proposal by Tyrala regarding dinner at the Karrnathi embassy. Gareth immediately refuses to be party to breaking into someone’s room under the guise of a friendly meeting, but when Corven points out that the Butcher of Eston (whom Gareth recognizes by reputation) could have had a hand in the deaths of tens of thousands of people, he grudgingly agrees to let them do whatever they want, as long as he does not have to help. He heads to bed while the others discuss various methods of obtaining the information. The possibility of Luna using her wildshape is mooted, but no final decisions are made.

***
Early the next morning, the Misfits are disturbed at breakfast by a frantic-looking person who rushes into the inn asking for "Gareth Deneith". Once Gareth speaks to him, he tries to drag the paladin out the door, babbling something about his friend being possessed at the Cathedral and needing help before the templars kill him. The group quickly agrees to accompany him, and he hurries them to a waiting skycoach, which heads in the direction of the temple district. 

On the way, the man introduces himself as Deemin, a member of the Clifftop Adventurers Guild. He and two friends had been working for the Archierophant and investigating something in the Depths, the parts of Sharn between the area above ground and the Cogs. They had found some items and returned to the Cathedral, where they were waiting for the absent Archierophant to return, when his friend Finch began to speak in a strange tongue (which someone identified as demonic) and violently attacked the people with him, almost killing one. They managed to run out of the room and lock him in. Some of the templars present suggested they kill him, since the Archierophant wasn't there to deal with the problem. When Deemin begged them not to, someone suggested that they find Gareth, since he'd been talking about exorcism and his abilities there. 

When they reach Sovereign Towers, the group quickly leaves the coach and hurries to the Cathedral. While everything looks normal on the outside, once they enter and follow Deemin down a side corridor, they soon find themselves at a barred door being guarded by two armed and armored templars, with Golar and another acolyte present. Golar quickly explains that he's the one who suggested that Deemin find Gareth. He also says that Finch was heard screaming and destroying things within the room for a while, but has been silent for a few minutes.

Some of the Misfits cast protective spells, while Six listens at the door but can hear nothing. As one of the templars pulls away the bar, Nameless casts a spell into the room, hoping to slow its inhabitant. The open door reveals a meeting room, now with the table and chairs overturns, all of them broken and showing signs of being hacked with some implement or weapon, with some signs of being burned too. There is nobody visible at the moment. Gareth attempts to detect evil, and very quickly does so, as there is a scream of rage and Finch comes rushing through the door from the side where he was hiding.

Finch turns out to be a well-built half-elf, dressed in plate armor and wielding a greatsword with flames running up and down the blade. His face is distorted with fury, and black blotches cover his face and the other exposed parts of his body. He is now screaming constantly, in what Nameless recognizes as Fiendish, saying, "Kill! Kill you all!" 

As he rushes forward, he swings his sword in a powerful arc, slashing Gareth deeply across the torso. Blood flies across the room and the paladin almost collapses*. Corven quickly produces a wand and heals him slightly. Still barely conscious, Gareth calls on one of the recently awoken powers of Kizmet to heal himself, and feels the majority of his wounds close. Meanwhile, the others respond quickly to the threat. Nameless and Luna hammer the possessed figure with a combination of magic missiles and a produce flame, and Six spins his spiked chain around an ankle and brings him down to the ground. Despite having Finch on the ground, the templars both fail to hit him. From the back of the group, Deemin screams, "Please! Don't kill him!"

Rising to his feet and taking more wounds in the process, Finch again wounds Gareth**. By this time, however, Corven has infused Gareth's sword with the merciful quality, which lets it cause nonlethal damage, and Gareth responds to Finch's attack by smiting him. As Finch wobbles, Six bashes him in the head and knocks him unconscious. He is quickly bound and manacled, and then Gareth tries to exorcise him. Using his sword to augment his power, Gareth blasts him with divine energy, causing the unconscious body to convulse as the entity within is burned with sacred power. Another blast leads to weaker convulsions, and the sight of the black splotches fading to gray, and a third one does the trick, as the body collapses.

When Gareth detects evil in the area to check if the entity is gone, he finds a lingering aura (which fades away), but also finds that one of the templars has a faint evil aura. Corven heals the unconscious Finch back to consciousness and then has to explain, with the help of Deemin, to him what has just happened. They are interrupted by the return of the Archierophant. Quickly ascertaining what has happened, she has Finch freed and brought into the room with Deemin, Golar and the Misfits, where she proceeds to find out the details, after healing Finch.

It turns out that the Archierophant had learned of a possible abandoned temple of some deity in the Depths and had hired the three adventurers from the Clifftop guild to investigate. Finding their way to the place after fighting some strange creatures, they discovered it to be an old crypt rather than a temple, and one that had been ransacked by grave robbers. While examining it, part of the ground collapsed, revealing an older Dhakaani crypt below. This one a contained the intact sepulchre of a warlord, along with a number of magical items. The group recovered the items and donned them, with Finch taking the armor and sword.

Ythana tells Finch and Deemin to deposit the items with her, so that she can have them examined, and then turn them over to the appropriate authorities (it being illegal to plunder and sell artifacts belonging to past civilizations, under the Code of Galifar). She also thanks the Blades for their aid. Once Deemin and Finch leave, Gareth tells Ythana that one of the templars is evil. She seems slightly surprised, commenting that most of them are people who have served the Flame and the Cathedral for a long time, but she promises to check on it.

Taking their leave, the Misfits return to the inn and get some rest before Corven's investiture, with Corven and Gareth stopping on the way to pick up some appropriately formal attire from the Bazaar. A few hours later, they travel to the Cyran embassy, stopping to pick up Lalia (who had responded to accept Gareth's invitation) along the way. At the embassy, they are taken to a large room, the walls of which are decorated with the Cyran flag and other pennants, including military banners and those belonging to individual noble houses. 

Lord Jairan, Tyrala, the warforged bodyguard Holt, Cala Narain and half a dozen others are present for the ceremony. All except Tyrala, Holt and Cala (who is in military uniform) are in traditional Cyran clothing, with its emphasis on flowing curves and jewelry. Lord Jairan administers the oath as the primary witness, while Tyrala, Cala and an embassy functionary are the other witnesses. At the end of the fifteen minutes that it takes for the ceremony, consisting mainly of the witnesses repeating what Corven and Lord Jairan say, Corven is invested as Lord ir'Lanya and given a broad neckband bearing the symbol of his household. The investiture ends with some toasting and general congratulations.

The group spends the next hour relaxing in a large sitting room, until the non-Cyrans attending the dinner begin to arrive. This consists of only four minor members of the Brelish political corps and an unexpected visitor from the Aundairan embassy. This turns out to be a tall half-elf, who introduces himself as Helais ir'Lantar. He seems quite pleasant, talking to Corven about his investiture and the general situation of Cyrans in the city, to Gareth about Karrnath, and to all the Misfits about their activities in the city. He admits quite frankly that he usually does not attend such minor functions, but was significantly bored with paperwork this evening and with the invitation still being present, decided that he could use the break.

Tyrala confirms, while speaking only to Corven, that Helais does not attend such functions, and seems quite suspicious of his presence. She tells Corven that though Helais is an effective diplomat and a strong supporter of improved relations between the nations after the War, there is just something about him which does not sit right with her. She says that the feeling is always heightened when she sees him with his identical twin Alais. Helais apparently served in the Aundairan diplomatic corps during the War and often visited Breland whenever the two countries were at peace, and when the former ambassador to Sharn died, he was appointed instead. 

Over dinner, Lalia asks Gareth what the group has been up to, and what their plans for the immediate future are. He responds with a detailed coverage of their activities, omitting any details about Gurr'khan and the dimensional seal. He also tells her that the group is planning to attack the Daask drug den in a few days. She warns him to be careful in dealing with Daask and asks if they are working for someone, and Gareth tells her that they are, for someone called Killian. Lalia doesn't know him and they move on to other subjects. As usual, she flirts with him lightly, but he remains oblivious.

While the others head back to the inn after the dinner, Corven only joins them long enough to switch to less formal clothes and then leaves for High Walls. Reaching it, he finds that the area is quite decrepit, being full of ramshackle buildings in a state of disrepair. The people on the streets reflect the surroundings, many of them looking haggard and worn, suspicion evident in their eyes. Corven visits a few inns and taverns, trying to get a sense of the area and its inhabitants. He hears a fair amount of complaining about the situation of the Cyrans in Sharn and elsewhere in Breland, learns that there are some problems with crime in the area and that there have been cases of Cyran street gangs beating up non-Cyran visitors, and is told three stories by three drunks which explain what "really" happened on the Day of Mourning. 

Late at night, he returns to Underlook and the Happy Harvest inn.

***
The next day, all of the Misfits travel to High Walls, to meet with Cala. They find her at the Bitter Draft, as promised. The tavern is full of Cyrans and Cala introduces the group to one or two, before leading them back into the streets. In turn, they visit the boarding houses where the three missing people had stayed. Cala had arranged for their rooms not to be let out again, so they are in the same state as when it was discovered that they were missing. All the rooms look as one would if the occupant left for work and never returned, with no obvious signs of mischief. Corven, aided by Six, thoroughly searches them.

The search turns up an interesting item in two of the rooms. A hidden panel under a table in Drass' room reveals a folded parchment, bearing simply a date (the 21st), a stylized drawing of a flame, and the word "Zokar". A similar parchment is found concealed at the back of a drawer in Hestia's room, this one differing only in the date (the 19th). Both of the notes have the same handwriting, and when Corven compares them to samples found at the various rooms, he finds that it does not match that of any of the three people.

Gareth and Corven both agree that the flame is not a representation of the Silver Flame. None of them can identify it, but Cala says she thinks she saw it as a tattoo on someone at the tavern sometime ago, but cannot remember anything more specific. When they are discussing the name Zokar, which is not a common Cyran name (nor in any of the others among the Five Nations), Nameless recalls that he has read it before. According to him, he was once reading an old tome, which contained the names of some angels from Syrania, and one such name was Zokar. In keeping with his long-term amnesia, he cannot remember where he saw the book except to say that it was when he was an apprentice mage. Corven and he make plans to research the name at the Guild and the Order.

Seeing that this investigation will take a while, Gareth leaves the group and heads back to Grayflood, to see if any information has been found about Bodo. The others accompany Corven as he speaks to the landlords and landlady of the three people and some of the neighbors. They discover that Hestia was seen about two weeks speaking on the street to Vendig, whose boarding house was next to hers. They also learn that she was a quiet and very devout person, praying to the Sovereign Host and having their icons and symbols hanging on her wall, but apparently took them down some time ago. Corven tries to ascertain if she used to visit any local shrines or temples, but finds that the landlady cannot really say, nor can Cala.

Gareth, meanwhile...

* Took a critical for 42 pts of damage, which took him to exactly 0.
** Random roll to pick a target, between Gareth and the 2 templars. Lands on Gareth again!


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar
10/10/05

After dinner, and a recap of the day I head back to my room to work write in my journal; I then proceed to sleep, listening to Six’s rhythmic hammer taps as he works on my armor.  During the sleep I find myself awake in a dream, like none I have experienced before.  I am naked, but I still have Kizmet in my hands.  In this dream I see Nameless, though he does not seem himself. His appendages are tentacles, his eye’s black as coal; writhing in flames I sense great evil emanating from him.  I suddenly awake, in a cold sweat.  I quickly done some clothes and make my way out of the inn, oblivious to anything and everything.

Walking to the Cathedral, I consider my thoughts and what has surpassed in this dream, trying to think of it’s meaning.  I see the two guards at the entrance, sleeping, I want to yell at them for not performing this simple task – as it should be performed – but I do not have time.  Reluctantly they let me in, and I am greeted by the steward of the watch.   The acolyte, while barely recognizing me, refuses to wake up the arc-hierophant.  In frustration, I tell him I will wait – he is surprised considering it is 4AM.  I head to the chapel and begin to pray, not moving, not responding to anyone, and continuing to do this through morning prayer until the acolyte comes and summons me to the arc-hierophants study.  Arc-hierophant Ythana Morr and I speak for a while, in depth, upon the dream and I inform her about everything I know of Nameless.  She tells me that I had a vision from the Silver Flame, and while it’s meaning are not made aware to us, it is a blessing.  She informs me, as I have already determined, to keep quiet about the dream and do nothing until I know more.  I think she fears I might outright slay Nameless.

Before I leave the Arc-hierophant speaks with me about exorcism’s and promises to get me some reading material on the subject.  I proceed to acquire some holy water, which I will utilize when Corven enchants my armor.

I head back towards the inn, where I meet up Corven.  The rest of the group headed out to run some errands.  I quickly eat brunch and travel with Corven to the Esoteric Order of Aureon.  I give Corven the money I promised him and he joins the guild;  after some red tape Corven becomes a member.  Corven then asks about Nameless and we find out that he is not a member of this guild.  This worries both me and Corven, since his other option would be to have joined the Guild of Starlight and Shadows.  The clerk at the Esoteric’s guild informs us that the Starlight and Shadows guild is not very reputable for allowing members of good moral standing – this worries me even more, and may be linked to my dream somehow.  Corven and myself decide not to say anything until we have hard evidence.

Once we are finished, Corven and I head into the laboratories and I am greeted with sights that are strange to me.  While I have seen some wizards laboratories, this one is very elaborate and seems to have unlimited resources.  We begin to work on the armor, and I cast some blessings on the armor while dousing it with Holy Water.  The armor, which was given to me by my grandmother, is very old, passed down to her through family member after family member.  I am surprised it was not enchanted in the past – only a testament to the strength of those who wore it before me.

After working with Corven for about four hours I realize I can do nothing else and he seems to be getting agitated with me looming over his shoulder.  I leave to house Deneith where I give a message to the clerk to pass to Lalia.  I hope she will accept my invitation to the investiture of Corven; after all, he is a member of House Deneith.  From there I head back to the inn where I see Six has returned with a new spiked chain.  He also purchased a magical scroll which he would use to repair his spiked chain.  I read the scroll and invoke it’s powers, repairing the damage done by Desro.  Six mentions the place where he purchased his sword, Mithral Blade, and informs me that I could find magical weapons there.  I touch Kizmet and say nothing more, as Six realizes this is not likely to happen – I do not think I could ever put Kizmet down, not for another sword.  After some dinner, I go back to my room and sleep for the night; this time without any unusual dreams.

In the morning everyone separates to head off to do their own business.  I start by heading to the Guild of Starlight and Shadows where I end up speaking the secretary there.  The secretary informs me that he hasn’t seen Nameless today, but would pass the message.  He asks for my name and I tell it to him.  After this, I head over to the Esoteric Order and wait for Corven. The clerk at the Esoteric Order recognizes me and allows me to wait for Corven.  When Corven arrives, he tells me about his meeting at the embassy, and I inform him about what I learn of Nameless.  We agree that I should speak to Nameless about it.  We then proceed to work on the armor.  Once I have completed my portion I head down to the dock’s to see if I can find Bodo.  Not seeing him there I grab one of the other boys and ask him for his help.  His eye’s light up at the sound of five gold, but I will be careful that he does not get a Changeling to impersonate Bodo.  I then give a copper piece to the boy who run’s off.

I head back to the inn, and we are all there – something that has not been common in the past day or so.  I discuss, with Nameless, the information I have found and as expected he shrugs it off as nothing.  I do inform him that it must be something as he snuck off in the middle of the night, and did not tell us about his membership.  He, again, says that it was not a big deal but I know he knows it is a big deal – otherwise he would not have been so secretive about it.  I tell Nameless that he needs to be careful about the company that he keeps, and that the people in the Starlight and Shadow order may be willing to use him to their advantage.  I think, also, I am not so comfortable considering the vision I had – but Nameless does not know about this.

Corven begins speaking with us about the dinner at the Karrnathi embassy.  He speaks about committing some crimes to find out some information about someone called the “Butcher of Eston”, which I recall hearing stories from my father.  I refuse to do so and inform Corven that I will have to tell the “Butcher” of this if he decides to pursue a criminal transaction.  Corven then informs me that the “Butcher” was responsible for the deaths of tens of thousands of people, and that he is not a good person.  I tell Corven, that while I will not hinder his investigation, I will not be a part of it either.  We break dinner and head to bed.  The nights are quiet now, and I think Six misses working on my armor – and I think in the future he will miss it more, since it will not be prone to damage…but it could always use a good polishing.

The next day, at breakfast, a man, named Deemin, comes – frantically- into room jabbering that he needs my help with regards to his friend, Finch, who is fiend-possessed.  I tell him that I will go and help him out.  Everyone in the group comes along, and as we go there he tells us the story.  After getting there I realize that I do not have my armor, so I done the magical bracers we have, and then cast some spells to protect me from evil.  Nameless readies a Slow spell and as the door slams open he launches the spell into the empty room.  Fearing our target may be invisible I start to detect evil and am assailed by an elf in full plate and a flaming great sword.  This possessed person is screaming in Fiendish, which Nameless later tells us he was ranting about killing us all.  He launches into me with a fierce blow and almost kills me.  Corven comes up from behind me and utilizes his wand to heal me of some minor wounds.  I then invoke the powers of Kizmet and heal myself, curing most of the damage I took.  Nameless and Luna proceed to add their take by casting some damaging spells, while Six deftly utilizes his chains to trip him.  Both templars who were with us try and take down the Finch, and Deemin begs us not to kill him.  Finch then starts to get up, which gives many of us a chance to strike him.  Finch, a bit more injured, gets up and strikes at me again – hitting but not doing as much damage as before.  Corven casts a spell on my weapon to make it’s damage non-lethal.  I smite Finch, and with this enchantment knock him unconscious as opposed to killing him.

We tie Finch up, using my manacles, and then place him on the table.  Summoning my powers of exorcism, I utilize Kizmet to channel my powers.  After three tries, and many violent convulses from Finch’s body, the demon is destroyed.  I check for evil and find only a lingering aura that dissipates.  One of the templars, however, does radiate evil and this knowledge takes replaces the satisfaction of the good I have just done.  As we start to talk to Finch and his friends the Arc-hierophant comes into the room and we inform her about what happened.   The Arc-hierophant hired this group to investigate an ancient temple to some evil god.  Apparently this group found some powerful magical items and utilized them.  Finch was probably possessed by a fiend who resided in the equipment.  The group took the items off and gave them to the Arc-hierophant.  Apparently, the laws state a person cannot keep such items without a proper writ.  The items must be studied.

I inform the Arc-hierophant that one of her templars was radiating evil, and she seems concerned about this.  She informs me that she will find out what is going on.  We then head back to the inn, to get cleaned up.  On the way there Corven and myself stop by the market and pick up some appropriate clothing.  We get ready, and then head to the Cyran embassy, stopping by the Deneith house to pick up Lalia.  We get to the embassy and I enjoy the investiture, though it seemed a bit short, nothing like the rituals I went through upon being anointed a paladin of the Silver Flame., which served a week of fasting and praying in solitude, culminating with a full day’s ceremony.  After the investiture, there is a dinner which, while modest, was enjoyable.  Lalia and me speak about the things I have done in the recent past, and I have asked her if anything new happened.  We then speak to a person, Helais ir’Lantar – a member of the Aundairan embassy.  He is a bit haughty, and rude, stating that he only came because he was bored, and normally this would not befit his stature.

After dinner Lalia invites me to her place for drinks, and it sounded like a fabulous idea.  I then turned to my companions and asked them if they would join us.  A moment later Lalia told me that something came up and she would not be able to have that drink, but would try for another time.  I wonder what could have come up that she did not know about before…  After the ceremony and dinner we head back to the inn, while Corven heads out to do some late errands.

We wake up in the morning and head out to the High Walls and we meet up with Cala at a bar frequented by Cyrans.  I get many stares from the members there, who I am sure are not happy about my nationality.  We proceed, and inspect the rooms where some Cyran’s were last seen, after they went missing.  I look around, but realize I am not qualified in this kind of research, so I stay out of Corven and Six’s way.  Corven then show’s me a parchment, with a picture of a stylized flame.  I realize, as well as Corven, this flame has nothing to do with the Silver Flame.  I suddenly realized that not only could I not contribute anything, but I am getting in the way.

I head out and go towards Grayflood docks, looking for information about Bodo.


----------



## shilsen

Written by shilsen - 10/16/05

*Session 10: A Paladin in a Sack is Worth...*

When Gareth goes to Grayflood, he sees the kid he spoke to, playing ball with some others. He sees Gareth and comes over to say that he was coming to Gareth that evening. He hasn't found Bodo, but has found somebody who knows about him. A local gambler named Philo said he thinks he knows where Bodo is and that "the kid is in big trouble," but wants 25 gold for the info. When Gareth asks, he says that Philo must be playing cards at a nearby tavern - which he points out - called The Spilt Ale. Gareth thanks him and heads for the tavern, only to be asked for a reward and then handing the kid two silvers.

Once he reaches the tavern and goes in, he finds it to be quite dirty and seedy. Despite it being the morning, it contains a fair number of customers, most of them sailors. The bugbear bouncer ignores Gareth and so does the fat, sweaty bartender, till Gareth asks for Philo. He is told that Philo is playing cards in a side room, the bartender indicating a small corridor, which ends in two doors (the left of which is occupied by Philo's card game).

Gareth knocks on the door, which is opened by a surly-looking half-orc with a hook where his left hand used to be. Behind him is a small room with a table and some cards and money on it, around which two humans and a shifter are sitting. One, a slim man with a thin moustache and wavy hair, introduces himself as Philo when asked and says that he did tell the boy he had information. When he asks Gareth, "I believe you're looking for Bodo. What's your interest in him?", Gareth says that it is personal. 

When Gareth goes to sit down, as Philo asks him to, the shifter grabs at him, while the other pull out daggers and saps. Gareth pulls away and responds with a deep slash to the shifter's arm, but the four attackers surround and pound on or stab at him. His lack of armor proves to be the crucial factor, and the last thing he feels is the half-orc's sap slamming into his skull. Before consciousness totally fades, he hears the shifter growl, "Let's just kill him," and Philo retort, "He could be valuable. Damn fine sword for sure."

***
The others, meanwhile, wrap up their investigation by visiting the only temple of the Sovereign Host in High Walls. The small temple is obviously a modified dwelling and has only a priestess and a young acolyte in attendance. The priestess, Lanora, recognizes Hestia's name and description, identifying her as a regular, quite devout, member, who stopped attending about two weeks ago. She also mentions that Hestia had seemed unhappy with the worship of the Sovereign Host and had been asking questions about why the gods would allow such events as the War and the Day of Mourning. Lanora's answers had not seemed to satisfy her.

Nameless asks her if she knows anything of a Zokar, but she does not, the closest equivalent that she knows of being Zorka, a blacksmith in her congregation. Nameless suggests that they speak to him at the next congregation and is told that they are welcome to attend the next day's service. With that, the Misfits wrap up their investigation for the time being and leaves High Walls, with Corven promising Cala to speak to her soon.

Nameless and Corven head to their respective mage guilds, while Luna and Six head back to the inn. There, they find Bodo waiting for them. He says that he has been staying in Callestan for the last few days, and when he learns that Gareth has gone to Grayflood to find him, the trio head down there in search of the paladin. A few quick questions lead them to learn than Gareth entered the Spilt Ale tavern and then left a few minutes later. Checking with the bartender of the tavern, they are told that he spoke with somebody called Philo in a back room and then left. 

As they leave the tavern in search of Gareth, an old drunk accosts them. After vomiting all over Six's feet, he tells them that he saw Gareth leave and followed him to ask for a handout. But according to him, Gareth entered a nearby alley and disappeared down an abandoned sewer access tunnel. After thanking him and paying a few silvers for the information, Six checks out the tunnel with Luna hanging on his ankles and ascertains that it definitely leads to the sewers, the stench from below being unmistakable. Both Luna and he also note marks in the dry muck encrusting the hole that indicate that someone passed through it quite recently. After some discussion, they decide that they need the others before they can safely investigate this, and head back to the towers of Sharn.

They stop at first the Esoteric Order and then at the Guild and pick up Corven and Nameless. The former has, in the meantime, researched the name Zokar and found it to be listed among a small list of angels from Syrania in a book about the outer planes. Nameless finds the same book at his guild, this one with a footnote referring to something called Tears of the Fallen. After some searching, he finds this to be not a book but a pamphlet about how angels come to the material plane, some through a fall from grace and a rare few choosing to leave the celestial planes. The pamphlet lists a couple of different variations, including Radiant Idols, which are fallen angels from Syrania. It says that they are those that fall because they gain the desire for power and to be worshipped by their inferiors. The pamphlet claims that they tend to congregate in manifest zones to Syrania, especially large ones like Sharn. On the way back to Grayflood, Nameless tells the others about this discovery and opines that perhaps Hestia - in view of her recent problems with more conventional religion - got involved with such a fallen angel in some way.

Once back at Grayflood, the Misfits investigate the tunnel. Six is lowered (despite his claim that there must be "sewer monsters") via rope, to find that the tunnel leads down some eight feet at an angle, ending in a sheer drop of ten feet to the sewers. Once lowered, he finds himself standing thigh deep in filth, with a sluggish stream of liquid running through it. At this point, everyone else rethinks going down to join him and decides to go check the tavern again. Six is pulled back up to the tunnel.

Even as he is re-entering it, he hears a sound and then the sharp pain of something piercing his rear end. Giving a yelp of pain, he climbs into the tunnel and pulls out a crossbow bolt. He yells up that the "sewer monsters are using crossbows!" Nameless calls down to the unseen attackers below, who respond to reveal that they are goblins. They threaten to attack anyone who comes into their territory, but a few questions seem to confuse them. They do reveal that they will let the group pass if they pay them, just as the last person did. Some more questioning reveals that he was a "funny-face guy ... face change lots", which Corven and Nameless decipher as "a changeling." Nameless throws them some money in thanks, starting a fight among the goblins, from the sounds of it.

The Misfits head back into the tavern to ask more questions about Philo and Gareth, and once Corven agrees to buy a round (which nobody drinks), the bartender tells them where Philo lives and suggest they speak to him. They go on to investigate the room that Philo and Gareth had met in, where Corven finds signs of a fight. Opening the back door, they find it opens onto an alley that emerges into the street behind the tavern, close to Philo's supposed residence. The alley has signs of something being dragged through it. The bugbear bouncer follows to yell at them for leaving the door open, and after being bribed, reveals that Philo and his cronies did mug their friend.

Heading to the boarding house where Philo lives, the Misfits speak to the old lady sitting on the porch. She owns it and is happy to show them around once Nameless claims that a couple of them want a room there. After checking out the two-storey building and paying in advance for a week, Nameless also ascertains that Philo does stay there, pretending that they know him. Since he is apparently in his room upstairs, the Misfits head upstairs. Luna sneaks up to the door and hears people arguing inside about what to do with "the guy," and signals to the others that it is the right place. Nameless moves to the door and casts a web into the room, trapping the four people who are inside, while Six (whose spiked chain Corven has enchanted with a merciful enchantment) throws the door open and Luna casts a produce flame and holds her fire. 

While three of the people only shout in surprise and try to work out what is going on, one (a burly one-armed half-orc) throws a dagger, nicking Nameless. He is promptly battered and burned into unconsciousness by Six and Luna, making the others even more cooperative. The Misfits burn away the web and join them in the room and begin to interrogate them about Gareth. Seizing the opportunity, one of the men tries to jump out a back window. He is promptly tripped on the way, which sends him crashing out, missing the lean-to he planned to land on and instead hitting the ground and breaking his leg. His screams only intensify when Luna leans out the window and hits him with a hurled bolt of flame. Six goes downstairs, walks over to the back street where he is lying, picks him up, and comes back (discovering as he does so that this one smells as if he has been down in the sewers). 

These actions and especially the screaming man have already drawn a small crowd, and the landlady comes pounding up the stairs to ask what's going on. Once she is handed ten galifars, she leaves just as quickly, only warning them, "Don't hurt the furniture." Once Six returns, he drops the man on a bed and applies a temporary splint to his leg, making him scream twice as much.

The others, meanwhile, discover after some minor effort that these are the four who mugged Gareth, and find the paladin tied up and unconscious in a sack under one of the beds, with a couple of very large lumps on his head. Luna heals him back to consciousness after they drag him out (and discover that he has been stripped down to his underclothes). Understandably, Gareth is first confused and then incensed, especially when he discovers that all his equipment, including Kyzmet, has been taken. He quickly sends the relieved Bodo off to the Deneith enclave with a message for Lalia to come to this place with twenty soldiers.

Philo reveals grudgingly that they have already sold Gareth's equipment to a fence, protesting a number of times that if he tells them where it is, then "they" will kill him and the adventurers. With Nameless pointing out that the other option is for just him to die now and Gareth glaring at him, he gives in and reveals that the fence is a goblin in Malleon's Gate and that he works for Daask. Apparently Philo and his gang have not taken any payment but were to receive small payments over the course of many weeks, including drugs and money. Checking the room, the Misfits do find little equipment or money, but Gareth does find enough to at least clothe himself.

After about half an hour of discussion and waiting, Bodo returns, but with only four soldiers. Lalia was not present but one of the people at the enclave recognized Gareth's name and sent the four. Once their leader is told that the group wants to go to Malleon's Gate and especially deal with Daask, he demurs. Eventually, he agrees to take three of the criminals back to the enclave and hold them temporarily (he points out, however, that the Watch is unlikely to care about a case like this in Grayflood), while leaving one of his men with the group to fetch help if they get in trouble. He also leaves a set of chainmail, a sword and a shield with Gareth.

Once the Deneith soldiers leave and Bodo is sent (reluctantly) back to the inn to await the group, the Misfits take Philo with them and head to Malleon's Gate. At Gareth's suggestion, they make a short detour through Callestan and the Cracked Mirror, but find neither Gorlick nor his brother. Heading on into Malleon's Gate, the northernmost district in Lower Dura, they find it to be in even more deplorable condition than Callestan. Chaos and noise fills the air, as does smoke from many small cookfires on what passes for a pavement. Rats scurry across the street. Goblins are everywhere, squabbling, haggling and shouting at each other, with larger goblinoids here and there. The group sees three very well-armed hobgoblins berating a goblin merchant while a bugbear forces his way through the crowd nearby. The Misfits draw a number of curious looks but nobody tries to stop them.

Eventually they reach a small shop set into the base of one of the large towers, with a grubby sign identifying it as Maarkra's Goods. Philo makes one last attempt to dissuade them but is ignored, and they enter. They find the shop to be one selling odds and ends. The shopkeeper, a goblin, quickly admits to having done business with Philo, but points out that he did not buy Gareth's equipment. He simply set up the transfer between Philo and Daask members, who have collected the equipment and left an hour ago. If the group has any problems with the sale of equipment, they need to take it up with Daask. Corven, who has cast a detect magic before entering the shop, ascertains that there are a couple of minor magics in there, but it does seem that Maarkra is speaking the truth. He cannot say who in Daask has the sword, but suggests the group speak to Keshta, a gnoll and Daask member, who may know. With nothing else to do, the Misfits leave.

After sending Philo off to the enclave with the last Deneith soldier, they head back to the inn, discussing what to do next. Six suggests talking to Killian, since he seems to have contacts in the underworld. The Misfits head to the Drunken Dragon tavern in Upper Dura, where they locate the changeling Flan (now in the form of a male shifter) and let him know what has happened and that they would like to speak to Killian that evening. He says that it is likely that Killian will be free at such short notice, but says he will try. The Misfits also meet Narik, the dwarf from the Clifftop Adventuring Guild that they had met before, and ask him to meet them at the inn with his companions and Deemin and Finch, if he can find them. 

Returning to the inn, they grab some food before Narik and his two friends (Lothas and Valin) arrive. Narik says that he couldn't find Deemin or Finch, but left them a message, and also says that he heard about Gareth exorcising the creature possessing Finch. The Misfits tell him about what happened with Gareth's mugging and that they may have to enter Khyber's Gate and fight Daask operatives. To that end, they ask if Narik and his friends would be interested in participating. Narik admits that he'd rather not tangle with Daask, especially not down in their own territory, but says that if it is a quick venture, attack and retreat, they could be interested. Especially if there is a chance of substantial treasure. The Misfits says that they will try to find out as much as they can, and ask him to speak to them the next day.

When Narik and his friends leave, the others visit the Clifftop Adventurers Guild with them and become members, with Luna paying the dues for the group (some of whom are relatively impoverished). Gareth makes it to the Cathedral for some prayer and to meet the Archieropant. He tells Ythana Morr exactly what happened and asks if she can help in any way. She answers that since this is occurring in the Cogs and is substantially beyond Church jurisdiction, there is little she can actively do, though she can provide healing and similar aid to those involved in the operation. She does provide Gareth with a new holy symbol and wishes him luck and the blessing of the Silver Flame on his venture.

Shortly after Gareth returns to the inn, Flan arrives to say that Killian is too busy but will be happy to meet the group the next morning, down at the Lucky Nines casino, as usual. Killian also has a specific message for Gareth, saying that he is "really looking forward to seeing you again." This doesn't help the already distraught Gareth's mood at all. After Flan leaves, the Misfits head to bed and pass a peaceful night.

***
The next morning, Corven heads to the Cyran embassy while the others go down to Firelight and the Lucky Nines. Killian is at his regular table and greets them effusively. It is very obvious that he is incredibly amused by Gareth's misfortune and he teases the paladin constantly, asking him to repeat what has happened so that Killian "has the story just right," repeating the events in great detail - and with insulting phrasing - when Gareth chooses not to do so, etc. When the Misfits ask for information and aid in this endeavor, he points out that they are really going to owe him after this one, and asks, "If I may be crass, what's in it for me?" Nameless, who is quite amused himself and even more so at Killian's antics, suggests he ask Gareth. The latter grits out that he will be "very grateful," causing Killian to pull a list out of his pocket and start calculating how much that will net him.

Eventually, he promises to do some checking on the location of the sword and see if he can help the group in any other way. He also suggests that the group take care of the drug den the next day and then speak to him. Gareth suggests they do so the next night, and he agrees. Six asks if he has any other information he can give them, and Killian produces a rough map of the area of Tumbledown that the drug den is in and a drawing of the front area, which is set up as a tavern. The drawing indicates the door in the rear wall of the front room, which leads to the drug den proper. After handing over the map, Killian then bids them goodbye, wishing them best of luck and continuing to chuckle into his drink.

When they return to the inn, Corven meets them there. He has his own and the group's invitation, as well as some information about what will or will not be allowed during the visit (i.e. no armor, weapons larger than daggers to be left with the Karrnathi guards, etc). He also has some things that Tyrala has provided, consisting of two potions of invisibility, a scroll of detect thoughts, and two packets of powder of silent passage. After some discussion, it is agreed that Luna will be the one to do the "breaking in", and she takes the potions and the packets. Six also gives her a potion to hide from undead, in view of the Karrnathi penchant for using them. At her suggestion, they also utilize their party funds to purchase a potion of gaseous form, figuring that will be useful for entering locked rooms and that Tyrala will recompense them.

After that, Corven returns to the Esoteric Order to continue work on Gareth's armor, while the others busy themselves in various ways, some of it involving buying appropriate clothing. Meeting before the evening, they prepare themselves and then head for Ambassador Towers. Reaching the district, they head towards the Karrnathi embassy. They find it to be set in a solitary tower of its own and built to resemble a fortress, with thick, unvariegated granite walls, barred windows, and a single skybridge leading to it. A portcullised courtyard with guardrooms on either side separates the man gate from the embassy proper, and the group is stopped there and has their credentials checked. Once that is done, they are led into the actual embassy, where Six's spiked chain is taken away "for safekeeping".

Entering the embassy, they pass through a broad corridor with doors on either side, till they reach a set of double doors, which open into a large, roughly circular hall with a broad set of steps to the right heading up. Across the hall are another open set of double doors, which reveal a larger hall beyond, that one with a section separated by curtains to hold tables and chairs for dining. A small string quartet plays softly in the corner, and Karrnathi flags and military banners decorate the two halls. A number of people are already moving around in the two rooms, and some of them quickly come forward to greet the group.

In the lead is a lady with graying hair but an incongruously young face, who introduces herself as Syra ir'Tarrn, the ambassador from Karrnath. She greets the group and welcomes them, telling Corven that she has heard that he has been recently invested as head of his household and that this is his first official dinner as a representative of the embassy. While leading them into the room, she introduces the group to her aide Malen Torr, a tall and slim man, who is gaunt enough to pass for a Karrnathi undead with a little grayer coloring. They also meet Kanarr Talan, the head of the embassy guard and the only armored man in the room. The bearded, tall and muscular warrior gives them a military bow and promptly ignores them for the rest of the evening.

Syra continues around the room to introduce Corven and the others to a number of people, such as Helais ir'Lantar, the Aundairan ambassador who attended Corven's investiture, and a friendly and jolly gnome called Taho Mol Doras, the ambassador from Zilargo. The Riedran ambassador could not make it, but they meet his aide Helkashtai, a very attractive woman dressed in Riedran fashions. What is most arresting about her, however, is that she has a tattoo of a bird which travels around her bare shoulders, arms and neck, once in a while disappearing below her neckline and then reappearing later.

It doesn't take the group long to meet the Butcher of Eston either. Dals Nelmo turns out to be very different from what his reputation would lead one to expect. The retired general is short, chubby and red-cheeked, looking more like a jolly merchant or innkeeper than a military genius and supposed war criminal. Dals spends a fair amount of time talking to Corven and Gareth, expressing interest in finding a Karrnathi as a member of the Cyran delegation. Corven tells him a little about their background together. Some minutes into the conversation, Dals says, "You might as well go ahead and ask me. Everybody does." Gareth asks what he means and he says that five minutes into every conversation with him, someone wants to know about the 'Butcher of Eston' incident and name. Gareth admits that he had wondered about it but wasn't about to ask, but since Dals brought it up, he might as well mention it. Dals seems quite matter-of-fact about the incident, describing it as simply doing what he needed to do to protect the lives of the soldiers under his command, and says that he has never regretted it. Gareth suggests that he try to let more people know about his perspective, since that might lower the number of people who hate him due to the incident, but Dals says he doubts that would occur.

Corven takes the opportunity to slip into the nearby bathroom and use the scroll of detect thoughts. When he emerges, first Gareth and then Luna ask Dals about his accommodations at the embassy. When he talks about it, Corven reads his surface thoughts (luckily without him realizing it) and realizes that the room is two levels above. Corven lets Luna know about it, and they decide that this would be a good time to attempt the break-in, since the attendants have just begun to bring in the food and many people are moving in the direction of the dining area. 

Luna enters the bathroom and uses a potion of invisibility, slipping out when Nameless 'conveniently' opens the door and heading for the stairs. Reaching the next floor, she finds four doors and two guards. Luckily the movement and noise below masks her movements, and she continues on to the next level. Here she finds a pair of double doors, which should lead to Dals' room, and another door. Once she reaches the door, she quietly casts a detect magic spell to note that there are some abjurations on the doors, as well as one on the floor which she fortuitously missed stepping on. Luna then uses a dose of the powder of silent passage to deactivate the abjurations on the door. At this point, she hears someone opening the door. Still invisible, she quickly swigs the potion of gaseous form. The door opens to reveal another guard, followed by two armed and armored zombies. As Luna slips between them invisibly and gaseous, she hears the guard say, "Stay here and watch the door" and sees the zombies take up position on either side of the door as it closes.

The room beyond is quite well-appointed, with a four-posted bed, a desk and chair, a small table with another two chairs, a couple of closets, and a door apparently leading to a bathroom. After a few moments of checking, Luna realizes that she cannot do a good job of searching the place in gaseous form, and returns to normal. Then she gives the room a very detailed search, going through the papers on the desk and the drawers in it, searching the closet, checking under the bed, opening a battered haversack beside the bed, and so on. Though she finds a number of different things, including Dals' old armor and weapons, some military medals, a dagger from the famed Rekkenmark Academy, letters to Zilargo, and a set of diaries (in the haversack) going back to the War, she finds no incriminating evidence. Though she cannot check all the diaries, she leafs through many and finds more poor poetry than references to the Day of Mourning. In fact, the only reference she finds is an entry where Dals conjectures to himself what its cause could have been, but that is it.

Deciding that the information was probably wrong, Luna uses another batch of powder on the door before drinking the second potion of invisibility and the one to hide from undead. Then she opens the door, causing the zombies to turn around, draw their weapons and enter the room to investigate. They do not seem to have seen her and she manages to slip out. Heading down the stairs, she passes the (now three) guards on the second level without trouble and reaches the bottom. She heads out the double doors and then dismisses the invisibility, coming back into the room as if she had wandered out. Nobody seems to have noticed her absence or return, and she joins the others and quietly tells Corven what she discovered (or failed to).

The dinner winds down over the next hour, and the adventurers take their leave after a while. Syra bids them goodbye, telling Corven that she looks forward to meeting him at future gatherings. Heading back to the inn, the Misfits head to bed, expecting a very eventful day on the following.

...and somewhere in Sharn, the watcher dismisses his spell and leans back in his comfortable chair. He chuckles inwardly to himself for a moment, and then says aloud, "Not exactly what I had planned, but these should make for an interesting twist. Very interesting."


----------



## shilsen

Writen by AviLazar
10/18/05 

I find the child I paid the last time and he sends me to a local gambler named Philo.  I enter the bar where Philo is supposed to be located, and after having some curt words with the Bartender I walk to the back room.  I consider casting some protection spells on myself, but think I am just being paranoid.  According to the boy, Philo wants 25 gold for information about Bodo.

After entering the room, which has four people playing cards, I sit down and speak with Philo for a moment, just before I am accosted by the person to my left.  He grabs my arm, which I shrug off.  I then draw my sword and slash him; a battle ensued, and then I was knocked out unconscious.

After a time, which I later found out to be a number of hours, I wake up in a bag and without Kizmet.  The party is here, and my assailants are on the ground – it looks like the room was webbed by Nameless.  We start to question Philo and his crew, and Nameless and I (for all our differences) fall into our typical routine.  Admittedly, I have been contemplating using extreme torture techniques I have read about in my books – the temptation was there, and I must atone for my thoughts of such malice – such is not the way of the Silver Flame; but I cannot let this go.

I have let down my father and my grandfather, and more then that – I feel hollow.  Not a sadness that someone experiences at the loss of a valuable item, or even family – not even like the feeling I had when my father died at the Battle of Grace.  This was more, as if a part of me was missing - if my arm would have been cut off, the loss would not be as great as this.

I send Bodo with a note to Lalia asking her to send me guards, and a half hour later 5 guards appear.  We interrogate Philo and find out he pawned my sword, like a common trinket, to a pawn shop.  We explain to the guards the situation, and they are not willing to take on Daask.  I ask one of them to provide me with his armor and weapon which he reluctantly does.  We head down, with one of the guards, to Malleon’s Gate, and then to the store, Maakra’s Goods, (Note: Once I resolve my issue, I will have this place shut down, if I have to raze it myself).  We find out from the store keeper, after some convincing, that the equipment was given to Daask…my heart sinks even more.  We are informed that we could speak to a person named Keshta, a gnoll and a Daask member.

We head back to the inn, sending Philo to the inn with the Deneith soldier.  We tell the soldier we will grab Philo on the morrow.  We discuss various options.  After listening to various plans, there is one which I feared I would hear, one that I was hoping that would not be mentioned – Six recommended that we speak with Killian.  I groan.  I loathe Killian and his scheming, and he knows it.  Nameless smiles broadly, knowing I must do this – I want to remove the smile from his face!

We encounter Flan and tell him of our need to see Killian.  Flan is surprised, to say the least.  Although we are told that Killian may not be able to meet us for a day or so.

After getting back to the inn, we encounter Narik and his friends from the Adventurers guild.  We saw them earlier and asked them to join us.  At first, when we mention our plans, they scoff – but after some negotiations they are persuaded – like all adventurers – the notion of fame, glory and treasure is a great lure.  We also leave a message for Finch and his group, which I exorcised.  They, at least, owe me their lives and more importantly their souls.  They will come, I hope.

At this point I head to the Cathedral, and I ask to speak to the Arc-hierophant.  The acolyte wants to make me wait, but he notices that I am not in the mood, and about to explode – he summons the arc-hierophant.  I explain the situation to her, and find there is very little she can provide me in help – being that she cannot send people to Daask.  She does provide me with a new holy symbol, and sends me with the blessings of the Silver Flame.  I am distraught.

When I return to the inn, Flan is waiting for us.  He tells us that Killian will be able to see us in the morning – this is unusual and I think prompted by Killian’s eagerness to see my plight, which I am sure he knows about.

We go to sleep, and I find that I cannot sleep.  I pray the rest of the night, trying to ease my soul and hope the Silver Flame will give me insight.  In the morning I am ready and Corven heads out to the embassy while the rest of us head to see Killian.

We arrive at the Lucky Nines in Firelight and see Killian.  We tell him the story, which I am sure he is aware of already, and he asks what is in it for him.  Nameless smiles, and chimes in by pointing to me.  I inform Killian that I would be grateful; and Killian looks ever more childlike then gnomes normally do.   Killian also asks how grateful I would be if he recovers Kizmet.  I tell him that I would be very grateful, and then Killian starts to jot some notes looking at a list of things he needs us to do.  Killian suggests that we head to the drug den, and then Nameless and he start giggling how ironic it is that the group did not take the drug den out days ago, probably saving me this pain.  Killian says he will check up on things for us.

We get back to the inn and Corven meets us there.  He gives us our invitations, and he gives Six and Luna some equipment so they can perform their subterfuge.

That night we head to the embassy, and I muster every ounce of diplomacy I have.  I mingle with the delegation and then see Dals Nelmo, the “Butcher of Eston” coming my way.  We speak for a while, and he grins asking why I do not inquire about his tactics that earned him the name “Butcher of Eston”; I tell him that I was not there, and I understand difficult times call for difficult decisions.  Dals tells me about the situation and I agree that his decisions, while not ideal, were in accordance with what a General needs to do.  At this point Luna nudges me to ask him the question about accommodations and I do ask him this.  At this point Corven does his thing and goes to read a scroll of detect thoughts.  Luna and Corven then go on their escapade and I continue to talk with Dals.  Eventually they return, and we head back to the inn.  Luna and Corven find no evidence to implicate Dals in the destruction of Cyre; I also do not think Dals did such an act of madness.

We arrive at the inn, and I collapse on my bed – the stress of the loss of Kizmet, the anticipation of the next days events, and the lack of sleep bear it’s toll on my body, mind and soul.

Note: I consider if this is a test of the Silver Flame; is Tira Miron seeing how I would react in times of great difficulty?  I do not know for sure, but it feel’s like it.  I will not cease this course of action until this quest is complete – I must do this for my father and my father’s father.  I must do this for honor, and valor – I must do this for my soul which seems to have been split in two.


----------



## shilsen

Written by shilsen - 10/24/05

*Session 11: Daask, Drugs and Being Rolled (again!)*

While the Misfits are at breakfast, they are met by a messenger wearing the symbol of the Silver Flame. He is from the Cathedral and delivers a message and a large package from the Archierophant. The note says, "Dear Gareth - Here is a gift to tide you over temporarily while you quest to find your father's sword. This sword has a lesser lineage than yours, but it is still a worthy weapon and has served the cause of the Flame before. Use it well. The potions will hopefully aid you and your companions too. Regards, Ythana Morr." Inside the package is a well-made greatsword inscribed with symbols of the Silver Flame and a set of four potions, each labeled Cure Moderate. Gareth sends a message back to the Archierophant thanking her.

While they finish dinner, Bodo tries to persuade Gareth to let him join them in the attack on the drug den and is refused. Gareth asks him what he was doing over the last few days. Bodo says that the Cathedral was really boring and he didn't want to stay at the inn, so he stayed in Callestan for the last week. When pushed by Corven about why he did so, he admits that it is because he met a nice girl there. He says that after some time he found out that she was a changeling, or as he puts it, "Eww!" Gareth tells Bodo that he will have to get some discipline and undergo schooling of some sort, which Bodo seems singularly unexcited about. He tries to distract the group by arguing about helping with the drug den again, and Gareth refuses again. When Bodo suggests instead that he try to find out about Kizmet, Gareth agrees and Bodo leaves shortly thereafter.

After breakfast, Corven and Luna head off to the Cyran embassy to report about the previous night's work. They find Tyrala seeming a little agitated about it, and proceed to give her a complete coverage of the events. Corven and Luna both tell her that they believe that Dals did not have anything to do with the Day of Mourning. Tyrala says that perhaps her information was incorrect, but says that she will let them know if anything else about it comes up. She also reveals why she is a little upset, revealing that someone left a note for her that morning, stuck to the door of her office. The note reads, "You should tell your associate Corven and his shifter friend that invisibility doesn't always work." Corven checks the note and finds that there are a few places where there is a set of four pointed indentations in a slightly curved line. He opines that it could be the fingers of someone with an unusual hand (perhaps skeletal, he surmises), but cannot be sure. 

Tyrala also checks about the investigation of the missing Cyrans, saying that Cala Narain has told her about what they discovered. Corven tells her about what Nameless and he discovered about the name Zokar in their research. Tyrala asks if Corven will be following up on it that day, but he says that he is busy with some personal work. Tyrala asks about the job but Corven only reveals that it is not something related to the embassy, and promises to pursue the investigation very shortly. Leaving the embassy, Luna returns to the inn to join Nameless there, while Corven heads to the Esoteric Order to continue work on Gareth's armor.

Gareth and Six, meanwhile, visit the Deneith enclave, where they learn that Lalia and Tasra are outside Sharn on a case and should return in two days. Gareth returns the armor and sword he had borrowed and then asks to speak with Philo. Six and he are taken to a cell block, where Philo and his companions are in one cell. At their request, Philo is taken out and placed in a small room with them. He seems quite eager to talk to them as long as they do not hurt him. He reveals that he spent most of the money taken off Gareth on paying off some debts. When Six asks about the Daask drug den, he says that he visited it once, and gives them some information about the area beyond the entry room leading to the actual drug den. He also says that when he visited it, there were four gnolls guarding it, along with a gnoll leader called Caasht. He begs the pair to let him go in exchange for digging up more information, and Gareth says that they may do so in a few days, in which case he can expect to be working as an informant for them permanently. He also suggests that Six beat Philo up a bit so that he can tell his cell-mates that they beat the information out of him, but Philo says that he'll take the risk.

After returning Philo to his cell, Gareth asks the Deneith guard captain he has spoken to if they can hold Philo for two more days. Though a little reluctant, the latter agrees and says that they will hold him till Lalia returns. When Gareth asks to speak to whomever Lalia left in charge, the guard captain points out that while Lalia and Tasra are the senior most Sentinel Marshals, they do not actually run the enclave, and takes Gareth and Six to meet Sadral d'Deneith, son of the enclave head, Lord Sadran. Sadral, a tall and lean man with brown hair, greets the two and asks how he can help. Gareth explains about their planned attack on the drug den and asks for some Deneith soldiers. Sadral considers for a few moments and replies that he cannot let either the Blademark (the mercenary arm of the House) or the Defenders Guild (the protection arm) get involved with an issue such as Daask, especially on a private matter. As he points out to Gareth, it would be different if Gareth were actually a member of the House, but he is not so. Gareth asks if Sadral can let Deneith soldiers help with this on a volunteer basis, without using Deneith insignia, but Sadral says that this too could lead to the loss of valuable Deneith personnel, and he cannot allow it. Seeing that there will be no help here, Gareth and Six take their leave.

Some time after everyone is back at the inn, they are joined by Narik and his companions Lothas and Valin, along with Deemin and Finch. Moving to the Misfits' rooms, they all discuss the attack on the drug den. Though Narik wants to go along, Lothas points out to him - and the others - that the three of them are busy on a personal job and will be so for the next two days. They are, however, willing to accompany the group into the Cogs as long as it's a quick operation and they know exactly where they are going. Deemin and Finch are not keen on entering the Cogs, but agree to help with the attack on the drug den. Deemin says that they will require no payment, since this will be considered as the repayment of their debt to Gareth and the others.

Although Narik and the other two will not come along, Six asks them to check on ways to leave town quickly, in case the group has to do so. Narik seems amused but promises to do so, and he leaves with Lothas and Valin. The remaining seven make plans for the attack. Corven and Gareth leave for a couple of hours to finish work on the latter's armor, and return with Gareth wearing it.

***
Around three in the afternoon, the group heads to Tumbledown, walking north and then gradually east from the Underlook district where their inn is. As they near Tumbledown, they find that the buildings and towers fall into more and more disrepair, with chunks of stone missing here and there, and mold and mildew growing in the cracks. The people on the streets also become gradually - and evidently - poorer, with worn or torn clothing. The well-armed adventurers stick out and draw expressions of suspicion from the people as they move away from their path. Once they locate the building containing the drug den and stop a little distance away to cast preparatory spells, those nearby scurry away even faster.

The building is set into the inner wall of one of the larger towers, and has a crudely drawn picture of an overflowing tankard outside, advertising it as an inn. A dirty window looks out from either side of the door. Striding in, the adventurers find the entry room to contain a bar, with stools in front and a few tables. A door in the back wall to each side leads inside, with the group's information indicating that the one to the left leads to the drug den.

As one of the two bartenders begins to ask what is going on, Gareth says only, "Get out - now!" and heads for the left door. The two bartenders and four patrons decide not to argue and head for the door as the others in the group move in. Nameless opens the door to the right to reveal an antechamber with three more doors, while Luna tries to boot down the one to the left. She only bruises her foot and causes the hatch in it to open, revealing two eyes. Their owner begins a "What the ..." but is interrupted by an onrushing Gareth, who smashes the door open and sends him (a human) smashing into the wall. The area revealed is another antechamber, like the one Nameless revealed, with three doors. 

Moving past the feebly protesting man, Gareth and Six move up to the far door, which Gareth kicks open like the first one. This reveals the actual drug den, consisting of a large room divided between a large table in the back (in front of a large, closed cabinet) and three low couches in the front. A scared-looking human is backed up in the corner, while four people sit in the couches with vacant expressions, showing no reaction to the commotion (a sure sign of dreamlily intoxication). 

A gnoll with a drawn longbow stands in the corner across from the door, and he releases an arrow that gashes Gareth's shoulder. His resistance is short-lived, however. Corven, having enchanted his crossbow and Six's and Gareth's weapons with a gnoll-bane enchantment to do increased damage, promptly shoots the gnoll in his shoulder, and Luna casts a warp wood spell that turns his bow unusable. As he tries to draw an axe, he is cut down by a charging Gareth. Luna, following Gareth into the room, is set upon and wounded by a battleaxe-wielding gnoll who stood hidden against the near wall. Six, following close behind, trips the gnoll and bashes him in the head as he lies on the floor, and as it groggily gets to his feet, sends it down and out.

Six is wounded, however, by an unexpected assailant. As Gareth looks around and asks, "Which is Caasht?", a voice answers, "I am!" and a gnoll appears behind the table as it hurls a flask at Six's unprotected back. The flask hits and releases a shocking sensation. Luna tries to hit Caasht with a flaming sphere, which he dodges, but wounds and Six trips him, sending him tumbling behind the table. After throwing another flask to hit Gareth, Caasht quickly drinks another potion to turn invisible, but Gareth manages to smack him with the flat of his sword and knock him out, sprinkling some flour on him to render his position obvious.

Things are not going as well for the rest, however. Deemin, Finch, Nameless and Corven are all crowded into the antechamber, trying to make their way into the main room too, when they hear a commotion behind the door to the left. Corven opens the door to reveal two more gnolls with battleaxes, behind whom stand two more with longbows. The archers fire a pair of arrows into Corven's chest from close range and he collapses. For the next few moments, the four gnolls engage Deemin and Finch. Nameless uses first a slow spell and then a glitterdust on them, both of which affect only the axe-wielders, but they manage to cut down Deemin* and badly wound Finch. Finch wounds one in turn, and Six manages to make his way back into the crowded antechamber to help. 

With the two axe-wielding gnolls now blinded by Nameless' spell, Luna and Gareth move back towards the area to help, but are stopped in their tracks as a hidden door in the wall of the main room flies open to reveal an armored ogre. The creature shouts a challenge in giantish and slashes Luna with his ogre-sized greatsword, almost taking her off her feet. Seeing the creature looming over them, Gareth calls upon the power granted him by the Silver Flame and swings with all his strength. His blade crashes into the ogre's side**, drawing a pained grunt from it, but it remains on its feet. 

Nameless, who is also close to it, risks an attack and attempts to back away beyond its reach before casting a spell, but a vicious backhand sends him flying across the room*** to collapse in a heap, next to one of the drug-addled customers, who looks down at the bleeding mage with faint interest. Though wounded, Luna dodges away from a swing and tries to hit the ogre with her flaming sphere, but fails. The momentary distraction is enough for the gnoll archers, and one sends a pair of arrows into her back, dropping her into unconsciousness. 

The other archer sends an arrow into Finch, who also collapses. His fall leaves only Six and Gareth up, facing the ogre, two archers and the two axe-wielders. Luckily, the latter pair are blind due to Nameless' spell, and Six quickly dispatches one. The other one stumbles around, swinging wildly and hitting only air.

The ogre, however, is more effective, its sword cleaving into Gareth's midsection. Luckily for him, his newly-enchanted armor stops the blade from cutting him in half, but he distinctly feels a pair of ribs snap****. Somehow, the paladin stays on his feet and slashes back in response. His sword bites into the ogre's neck, sending blood flying. The ogre totters but manages to stay on its feet, rage and adrenalin keeping it going. The wounds do cause its last blow to miss the staggering Gareth by a whisker*****, and the paladin buries his sword in its head.

With the axe-wielders out of the way (the blind one having stumbled into the other room), Six quickly trips and slays one of the archers, but not before he has been wounded again. The remaining archer steps back to get a clear shot at the warforged, and then Six hears a voice behind him say, "Fire!" A volley of crossbow bolts shoot by his head, narrowly missing him, and transfix the archer, who drops immediately. 

Six spins around to see six armored humans standing in the tavern room with crossbows out, with another human and a pair of halflings standing in advance of them. The latter three quickly move up to Six and one of the halflings says, "Excuse me," as they move by him. A confused Six asks, "Who are you?", to which the halfling replies, "Oh, we are the collectors." More questions from Six and Gareth (who sees the three enter the room and quickly dispatch the blinded gnoll) reveal that these 'collectors' are from the Boromar clan. They politely, but firmly, ask the two conscious adventurers to lower their weapons and to refrain from attempting to heal themselves. The halflings open up the cabinet in the drug den and begin removing cases holding flasks of iridescent liquid from within, placing them in some bags of holding that they carry.

Gareth and Six are escorted into the tavern room, where the six humans keep an eye on them with weapons drawn. Questioning their guards reveals that they have been "hired for a job here today," but they do not say from where. After some minutes of waiting, the trio return and thank Gareth and Six for their help and cooperation. The nine depart, only minutes after they arrived, leaving Six to ask Gareth, "Did we just get mugged? Again?"

The pair quickly revive their companions, starting with Luna and Corven, who then revive and heal the others. Gareth and Six explain what just happened with the Boromars. They discover that all unconscious gnolls have had their throats slit, except for Caasht, who Gareth asked the halflings to leave alive. After reviving Caasht, they ask him about Gareth's sword and about which Daask members deal with the fence Maarkra, but when it becomes evident that he knows nothing about it, Nameless shoots him in the head with a crossbow and disposes of him. 

Searching the building, the Misfits find that the Boromars have taken every sample of drugs in the area, but have left behind most of the equipment that the gnolls had. Corven also discovers a secret crawlspace in a bedroom that probably belonged to Caasht, and finds some hidden money and potions within. After collecting whatever they can use, the group leaves and heads back to the inn. Deemin and Finch take their leave, both looking somewhat the worse for wear.

With some hours to kill before they have to meet Killian, the group takes time to rest and identify some of what they have recovered. They visit the Clifftop Adventurers Guild, where they dispose of most of the weapons and armor they found, and then head down to Fireside for their meeting with Killian.

***
The Misfits find Killian at his usual seat. He greets them jovially, as usual, and asks them how things went. Nameless and Six simultaneously comment, "You know better than us," causing him to laugh out loud, before he says that he has heard a little bit about their success but would still like to get the details.

Killian sounds genuinely surprised to hear about the Boromars' interference, though that does nothing to make any of the others believe him. Nameless hazards the guess that he might be just as interested in the Boromars suffering as Daask, since that would help other powers gain a hold in the criminal area, but Killian does not respond to the comment in any way. Instead, he asks more questions about what happened, taking quite obvious pleasure in the partial discomfiture of the adventurers.

Corven, who has been growing steadily more irritated with Killian's antics, then asks about the remaining payment for the attack on the drug den, which momentarily interrupts Killian's joviality. The gnome quickly responds, however, that in view of the request for information about Gareth's sword, he thought that their original agreement had been renegotiated. Corven hastens to assure him that this is not the case, and when Killian argues that they probably recovered much more treasure than the amount he was supposed to be paying them, he ripostes that the treasure would have been recovered even under the original agreement. Finally, Killian says that he will be happy to pay them as agreed, as long as they no longer need the information about the sword. The group grudgingly agrees to settle for the information, with Luna grumbling to Gareth that his sword is really causing trouble for them.

Killian tells them that his sources have not yet ascertained the location of the sword, but it seems very likely that the sword is in the hands of Bhorak, a minotaur warrior (a statement which draws groans, rolling eyes, and muttered comments of "of course!") from Droaam, who trains and is in charge of some of the more recent reinforcements for Daask. Luckily, Bhorak often deals with such new arrivals at a separate location and the group may be able to attack it relatively safely if they move in and out fast. Killian thinks that he should have the precise location in a couple of days, and suggests that they meet again on the night of the 4th.

With that agreement being made, Killian settles down to needle the adventurers, joking constantly and finding more than a few areas to add to their irritation and paranoia. He implies that he could spread information about them, dropping very obvious hints that he has been keeping a close eye on them. He asks Nameless about his girlfriend Trillia, drawing only a reply that Nameless has "a mentor called Trillia, not a girlfriend." The response is less calm when he comments on the help Gareth has been getting from the Cathedral and says that faith is easy to buy there, drawing the grim question, "Are you impugning my faith and that of the Silver Flame?" Killian quickly says that he would "never even dream of saying something mean about the Flame" and changes the subject. He tells the group that if they are concerned about keeping their activities under wraps, they might want to talk to Bodo, since he believes "at least one Daask member and two of the Boromar clan" know that Bodo was asking about a certain sword.

That comment gives the group one more thing to worry about, and Corven suggests they leave and discuss their plans back at the inn. Killian bids them a supposedly sorrowful goodbye, wishing them good luck and suggesting that they not do anything that he would. With a few tired, irritated and disgusted looks at the beaming gnome, the adventurers leave. On the way back to the inn, they discuss what to do next. Six suggests that they might try to obtain some sponsorship for an expedition to Xen'drik, perhaps from one of the scholars at Morgrave University. After all, he suggests, they are quite likely to piss off Daask enough to be unable to stay in Sharn, an opinion which at least a couple of the others gloomily agree with.

* First time action pts were spent to keep an NPC alive.
** Natural 20 and confirmed crit on a smite with full power attack. Ow!
*** 26 hp to -4 in one hit. Also known as "All Power Attack All the Time"
**** Took Gareth to 1 hp.
***** Rolled a 5


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## shilsen

Written by AviLazar:

While eating breakfast this morning a messenger from the Cathedral arrives and hands me a large package.  From its weight and size I quickly realize what it is.  The Archierophant has sent me a great sword of fine quality, one that has been etched with runes of the flame.  She has also provided the group with some healing potions.

I start to question Bodo with regards to his recent activities and am not happy with what I hear.  I give him options other then church study, but tell him he must either do these or he is finished with me.  Bodo tries to get us to let him go to the drug den but I refuse this adamantly.  Bodo suggests that he could find out about Kizmet.  Thinking this would be harmless I send him out, hopefully he will stay out of trouble.  Unfortunately, his inquiries will end up causing me trouble.

After breakfast Six and I walked to the Deneith stronghold where I find out that Lalia and her sister Tasra have gone away on some business for their house.  We are treated extremely kindly, for outsiders, upon the request of Lalia.  I return the equipment I borrowed from house Deneith.  We went down to the holding area and we got Philo out of his cell and into an interrogation room.  He seems very scared at the sight of Six.  We question him and he gives us some information; he also tells us that he will be a dead man.  I tell him that he will have a chance to gain freedom by serving us in my search for my sword.  At the end of the meeting I offer to let Six work on him a bit so his friends think he was being beaten.  Philo is such a coward that he would rather not be beaten and take a chance that Daask will kill him.  Philo is worthless in many ways, and one of them – apparently he had many debts and used the money he stole from to pay them off.  I promised him that we would use him until he breaks.  Before leaving we speak with the guard captain and asked him if they could hold the prisoners for a few more days.  He agrees, probably due to my relationship with Lalia.  We then ask to speak to the person in charge, Lord Sadral d’Deneith.  We inform him of our mission to the drug den and while he seems like he would like to help, he says he cannot since it would endanger the enclave.  I accept this answer, and understand the burden of leadership.

We head back to the inn where we meet up with some of the adventurers from the guild.  The first group, Narik, Lothas and Valin say they cannot come with us due to the risks.  The second group, Deemin and Finch agree to come with us – mainly because they owe their lives and soul to my exorcism.  Deemin and Finch are also willing to join us at the cogs.  After the meeting Corven and myself head to the mages guild to finish working on my armor.  I anoint it with the rest of the holy water and Corven places the final enchantments.  I try the armor on and it fit’s perfectly, it looks pristine as if it just came out of the forge.  I thank Corven for this and then we head out to meet with the group.

The group heads down to Tumbledown and before entering the drug den we prep up our spells.  A crowd gathers, staying a distance from us, but realizing some trouble is about to happen.  We enter the den and the two bartenders ask us what we want. I tell them to leave or to die and they run out.  Luna tries to kick in the door but hurts herself in the process.  The peep hole to the door opens and the person behind the door starts to swear as I charge the door and slam it open – in the process knocking the person out.  We are in a tight corridor where Six and I move up.  I ask Six if he can open the door but he says that is not his skill set.  I then kick the door in to reveal a number of gnolls, one of which who shoots me with an enchanted arrow that causes an excruciating amount of pain.  Corven then shoots the gnoll with a gnoll bane arrow, and Luna destroys the bow with a warp wood spell.  The battle ensues, and feels like it lasts for hours.  Six enters the room and immediately takes control with his spiked chain – tripping up any opponents within ten feet of him.  While in the room I ask who Caasht is – and I get a response “I am” while a gnoll turns visible as he throws a bottle of alchemists shock at Six.

Luna, seeing this hurls a flaming sphere at Caasht, who dodges out of the way.  Six then trips Caasht and follows up with an attack.  Caasht drinks a potion to turn invisible, but his ploy will not work on me.  I swing mightily with my sword, hitting Caasht with the flat of my blade.  Caasht is knocked out, but just to be sure I drop some flour on him to outline his position.

At this point the battle seems to be going great, but I noticed Corven opened up a door to another room which had four gnolls…I wish Corven did not open up another door at this point, and maybe the group should have a chat about tactics – first finish the current group of enemies, and then look for another.  I would have preferred if Corven sealed that door shut.  The gnolls were arranged with two in the front with axes and two in the back with bows.  They shoot at Corven first, and he falls to the ground in a heap.  Nameless then casts a slow spell, followed by a glitterdust spell.  It seems to have affected the two gnolls with the axes, but not those with the bows.  I see one of them taking a dead-aim shot at Deemin’s head and I scream “NO” praying for his safety, and with the help of the Silver Flame, Deemin is saved from a mortal blow.

Confident that we can still beat this fight I turn to head on over to dispatch the four gnolls and then, ever so slowly, in what seemed to be an eternity, the door to the room I was in opened up.  A sight I have not seen in a long time, and one I did not think I would see stepped forward.  A large Ogre walked into the room, wielding a large greatsword.  He stepped in grinning and I knew the fight just went bad.  The Ogre first slams into Luna, as she was kneeling over Corven and knocks her out.  Seeing their peril, and knowing that Six is far out of range to help, I take a quick step towards the Ogre – shouting in the name of the Silver Flame I smite, using every ounce of strength I could muster.  I dealt a severe gash to the Ogre, who turned towards me in pain and contorted anger.  I knew I would not survive his next attack as I was already suffering from damage due to the gnolls.  Nameless, at this point, decided to remove himself from the Ogre’s reach but in the process the Ogre took a free swing at him and knocked him down to the ground like a rag-doll.  The ogre then hit me, and the damage I took made me stagger.  I was swaying from side to side, seeing blood rush down my face and realizing I was about to fall.  I knew I could not escape the Ogre, and my next attack may not be enough.  I then swung at the Ogre and connected another hit, but not enough to take him down.  The Ogre smiled, knowing that he was about to slay me – he muttered something in his guttural language.  He took another swing at me, confident he would take me out, but with some luck – the Silver Flame no doubt – I manage to dodge out of harms way and the Ogre is surprised as I perform a 360 turn, and come crashing up with my sword, taking it from his lower right midsection, cleaving up until the blade comes out of his chin.  The Ogre collapses in a heap – a battle to be remembered for sure.

I then look towards the rest of the group, everyone but Six and myself are knocked out.  I am in no position to fight, but the three gnolls are left.  The one with an axe is blinded and Six manages to trip and take down the other gnoll.  Still, one left and one shot is all he needs.  Out of nowhere crossbow bolts went flying and hit the gnolls, killing them.  Six humans enter the room and tell us not to move.  They take us to another room as they collect the drugs in this den.  After a number of questions, they do reveal they are working for clan Boromar…the criminal organization who is in power – as far as the criminal underworld goes – on the top side of Sharn.

After they leave we heal the entire group, including Deemin and Finch.  We start to question Caasht and he does not give us the answers we need so Nameless blasts him in the face with a crossbow bolt.  We collect the weapons, armor and magical equipment and leave.  I tell Deemin and Finch we will get them as soon as we know some more information.

We then head down to meet with Killian, who again taunts me – at this point impugning on my honor I almost lose my temper and cut him where he sits.  Killian seemed upset about the Boromars taking the drugs and I feel that it is more because he would like to have the drugs then anything else.  Corven and Killian start arguing with the remaining payment, but I ask Corven to let it go since the remaining payment is not worth the price of the information for my sword.  Corven agrees but informs Killian that Killian still needs to ensure people do not find out about the group and their role with the drug den.  Luna complains about the trouble the sword is causing the group and I gave her a look that would turn a ghost.  She has no understanding of what this sword is – to her it is just a sword – but she would not feel the same if someone removed her limbs from her body as that is what this sword is to me.

Killian tells us the sword is probably in the hands of a minotaur warrior named Bhorak.  When I hear this I cannot tell if I am happy or sad.  To fight a minotaur – and survive – is no short task.  This even assumes the minotaur is alone – which he probably isn’t.  But that is our task.  Killian asks us to wait two more days where he will have more information.  He also tells us that if we head down quickly and quietly into the Cogs to get to Bhorak we will probably be able to do the mission without attracting attention.  This I know Deemin and Finch want to hear.  After this information is given, Killian continues to poke fun at us – and then starts on Nameless.  Apparantlely, Nameless has a mentor by the name of Trillia, which Killian hints might be a girlfriend to Nameless.  Nameless becomes a bit offended at Killian’s remarks to Trillia saying it is unwise to annoy the powerful.  I think he left out the statement “and evil” as I am sure someone in that organization could easily be.

I also find out that Bodo, asking questions, is causing more harm then good.  I will have to speak with Bodo and make sure that he is occupied doing other things.  We head back to the inn and discuss some plans.  Six mentions he would like to arrange a trip to Xen’drik, implying that we need to run away from this area once we retrieve my sword. I think, once we retrieve Kizmet we should stay in this area and let people know that we will not tolerate the evil and corrupt of the underworld and we will and can stop it.  I also think that Daask will not want to publicize the group because they will be very embarrassed if a group of seven destroyed their drug den, and then made it into the heart of Daask to kill one of their more powerful warriors and retrieve an item.  They will be so embarrassed by this because it will make them look extremely weak and they will then worry that clan Boromar will see them as weak and then take the opportunity to attack.  Politically, this might turn out well.


----------



## shilsen

Written by shilsen 10/30/05

*Session 12 - The Guardian Angels Take Flight*

Corven ir’Lanya Deneith - Human Art6
Gareth Byron Deneith - Human Pal3/Clr2/Exorcist of the Silver Flame1
Luna - Shifter Drd6
Mithral 6 of 6 - Warforged Ftr2/Scout4
Nameless - Human Wiz5/Alienist1

After returning to the inn, the adventurers find Bodo waiting for them. He says that he asked around Callestan and Oldkeep about Daask and also a little about anything to do with a sword, but reports no success. Gareth thanks him for his efforts but also tells him to hold off on asking people about the subject for now. After a quick dinner, they all head for bed, other than Six, who returns to crafting his sculptures.

Some time before dawn, both Gareth and Nameless have unusual dreams. Gareth has a dream during which he feels his powers as an exorcist and as a worshipper of the Flame expand. Nameless too comes to a realization in his sleep, cracking the formula for summoning pseudonatural creatures that he has been studying since he was able to do is in the complex where they fought Desro. He also dreams of the same kalashtar woman that he had dreamed of nearly a month ago, right after their arrival in Sharn. In this dream, she warns him of danger and tells him to seek out "the enlightened Havakhad" in the Overlook district. 

Nameless rises early, shakes Gareth awake, says, "I am sneaking out, probably for some nefarious purpose," and departs, leaving an irritated paladin and a chortling druid, Luna having awoken to hear the exchange. The mage heads for the Overlook district, directly above the Underlook area where their inn is, and finds it to be a residential area full of apartment townhomes. Though most are made of plain gray granite, some of them show signs of Riedran architecture. A number of kalashtar move around the area, and though they are still a minority, there are more of them than he has seen anywhere else in Sharn.

After asking someone on the street about Havakhad, Nameless is directed to a large hall called the Gathering Light, which is apparently a communal meeting place for the local kalashtar. There, he meets a woman called Selkatari, who turns out to be the exact image of the woman who has appeared in his dreams. She is surprised and confused at being informed about this, and calls a scholar called Hanamelk. After hearing about the dreams, Hanamelk suggests she take Nameless to Havakhad.

Accompanied by four guards (she explains that there has been some trouble for Havakhad but does not explain what), she leads him to a small but beautiful shrine at the top of a nearby tower, which is dedicated to Il-Yannah, the force that the kalashtar revere. Nameless meets Havakhad, the ancient kalashtar who tends the shrine. After being told of the dreams, Havakhad asks a little about Nameless. He confesses that he has no idea what the dreams may mean, adding that since the kalashtar are incapable of dreaming, they have limited understanding of other races' experience of dreams. Nameless assures Havakhad that his dreams usually involve more tentacles than the ones with Selkatari. Havakhad seems to find that amusing and opines that, tentacles or no, these are visions of some kind and are too specific to be coincidental. He promises to meditate on it and speak to Nameless again. Havakhad seems pleased to meet Nameless, especially when the latter displays some knowledge of Dal Quor (the plane of dreams), the plane the spirits that make up the kalashtar came from. However, Nameless' suggestion that Edgar (his rock) help with the question of the dreams doesn't seem to raise his stature in Havakhad's eyes.

Before Nameless leaves, Havakhad asks if he has had many dealings with the Riedrans (whom Nameless knows the kalashtar are apparently strongly opposed to). Nameless tells him of the solitary meeting with them at the Karrnathi embassy and gives some details of those he met. Havakhad suggests that Nameless be a little wary of them and then bids him goodbye. Nameless heads back down to Underlook to join the others for a late breakfast.

During breakfast, Gareth tells Bodo that he has to undergo schooling. After some arguing, Bodo manages to persuade Gareth that he should be allowed to find information on available schools in Sharn and eventually leaves to do so, looking fairly depressed. After Bodo is gone, Six tells Gareth that he has something to say to Gareth. He then proceeds to lecture Gareth about how the loss of his sword was due to his own pride and overconfidence, and predicts that Gareth will suffer more if he is not less humble about his abilities and more careful in his actions. Gareth does not react positively to the criticism and the two are soon engaged in a freewheeling and long argument about what they have been doing, their current plans and the future. Much of the disagreement is about Killian and how much the group should trust him or his information. Ironically, the argument ends up with Gareth defending Killian and arguing that the information he has given them has been correct so far and that he has no real proof that Killian is a villain, though he suspects it. Nameless and Luna spend most of their time rolling their eyes or laughing at the argument, though they do tend to side with Six regarding the need to be very skeptical about Killian and whether the information he gives them is a trap. Corven joins in, though not as stridently as Six and Gareth. He also takes a more moderate position than either of the two, agreeing with each to some degree, though he too supports Six in the belief that Killian sold them out to the Boromars during the attack on the drug den. Gareth says that Killian seemed surprised and a little irritated at the news that the Boromars got the drugs and argues that since Killian had wanted them to destroy the drug den and said nothing about recovering the drugs, that was probably not the gnome's intent. Corven replies that he doesn't trust any of Killian's reactions at all, and feels that the reaction time from the Boromars was too quick unless they had a troop waiting there every day. Six adds to that by saying that the Boromars never showed the least curiosity about the identities or aims of the group, which leads him to believe that they knew who the adventurers were. Gareth responds that if he finds out that Killian is working for the Boromars he will go down to the casino and kill him personally, even if he has to die in the process. A couple of the others comment that they'd put money on the dying, which doesn't improve matters.

The argument, which does not seem to be going anywhere, is thankfully interrupted by the arrival of Narik and his companion priest Lothas. Narik greets the group and, after they retire to their rooms, asks about the attack on the drug den. The adventurers tell him about it, without too much information about the Boromars, though Gareth takes time to tell him about the ogre thrice. Narik mentions that he saw Deemin and Finch looking the worse for wear at the Clifftop Adventurers Guild and says that he thinks they might not be keen on accompanying them into the Cogs. Gareth tells him that they will have more information but should be able to make a quick in-&-out attack, which Narik agrees is the best kind. Narik also asks the group about issues of treasure and they eventually decide that everyone participating will get an equal share of any coinage recovered, and any equipment and magical items will be randomly chosen, with Gareth's sword and amulet going directly to him. After the agreement is reached, Gareth asks Narik about the presence of bards in the Adventurers Guild, but is told that they are rare. Narik says that if he wants to find bards, he should check the Golden Horn, an inn located in the University district, where the local chapter of some bard organization is located.

Narik also has some information about transportation for leaving Sharn, which Six had asked for. He tells them about the lightning rail leaving Sharn twice a day from Terminus, while Orien caravans and coaches leave regularly from Wroann's Gate (both districts in Lower Tavick's). There are also ships leaving from the Grayflood and Ship's Towers areas regularly, some heading south and west to Xen'drik, with the trip varying from a month to a dozen days depending on whether one travels by a regular sailing ship or one run by House Lyrandar. The rare Lyrandar elemental galleon takes only three or four days, but is very costly. Regarding Xen'drik, Narik also says that there are a couple of expeditions being planned over the next month, adding that Clifftop Adventurers Guild members are popular for such expeditions since many are experienced with Xen'drik. 

After deciding that he will stop by again two days later to find out about the trip into the Cogs, Narik leaves with Lothas. Once he is gone, the adventurers head in various directions. Despite the argument with Six, Gareth decides to follow a suggestion the warforged warrior made, namely to contact someone from the Finders Guild regarding his sword. He heads for Deathsgate, where he visits Karr'Aashta's Investigations and talks to Karr'Aashta. The latter is interested to hear about the loss and claims to have certain expertise regarding the Cogs. Gareth gives him detailed information about the loss of the sword and his discoveries thus far, only not mentioning Killian as a source. Karr'Aashta promises to do some investigating and speak to Gareth in a couple of days, as well as quoting him a base price for the information of 50 galifars, which may be higher depending on how difficult he finds it to be (along with payment for any spellcasting involved). Gareth promises to pay whatever is needed.

Corven, meanwhile, heads to the Esoteric Order to begin work on crafting a wand of scorching ray, having been studying the art of wand creation for the last few weeks. Since he is a little short on the money needed, he borrows 700 galifars from Luna, who has not spent as much as most of the others. 

Luna and Six visit the University, where Luna spends a little time in the library checking information on Xen'drik, while Six locates and speaks to Larkin Habershar, a research scholar he heard during the Aureon's Crown festival. He learns a little about Desro and Dals Nelmo, but not much more than he already knew. Afterwards, both Six and Luna speak to Dala Arand, a young scholar who had mentioned to Six that she is involved with planning a trip to Xen'drik. She confirms that she is planning an expedition primarily financed by Kidro Osanak, the owner of one of the nearby antiquities stores that specialize in Xen'drik artifacts. 

Dala takes the pair to meet Kidro, whose shop is located in the Seven Towers district in the area colloquially called Little Xen'drik. At the store, Window on Yesterday, Luna and Six meet Kidro, who is a wizened old gnome. He is happy to meet them and gives them some information about the way expeditions to Xen'drik are often financed. He says that the current one is in the beginning stages of planning, so it may actually take place anywhere from a couple of weeks to over a month later. When Six asks about the specific aim for this expedition, Kidro says that he has information about a ruin belonging to the ancient giant civilization that has not been explored fully, and he wishes to finance the recovery of anything found there. Dala adds that she will probably accompany this expedition. Kidro asks some questions about the group and is pleased to learn that they are members of the Clifftop Guild. He makes plans to speak to them in a few days, after checking on their references at the Guild. Six also lets him know that he can speak to House Deneith and the Cyran Embassy about them, which seems to impress him.

Leaving Dala with Kidro, the pair head back to the University, since Six wants to speak to Flamewind, the resident gynosphinx with oracular powers that he has heard of. A student directs them to the library, where they find Flamewind walking among the back shelves. The strange-looking creature has a giant lion's body, but with orange stripes on black, and a folded pair of black wings like that of a great falcon. Her head and face is that of a beautiful elf woman, but with a distinctly feline cast, and she wears a silver diadem on her brow. She greets Luna and Six politely when they speak to her. Six says that they are planning to travel to Xen'drik and would like any guidance that she could give them, mentioning that he has heard of her oracular powers. Flamewind smiles and says that she has many people, especially scholars and adventurers, speak to her in hopes of some information. Unfortunately, her oracular powers are not at her control and they activate without any warning. Even as she is saying this to them, she stops, growls softly and then shakes her head from side to side. Then her eyes begin to glow softly and she looks at the pair and intones softly, her voice growing deep as she does so:

_Prophecy dances around you. Some fulfill, some are fulfilled, and some flee - the choice is yours. Where present and future spark, where light is turned to dark, to the ghost of the city where the past await. The chamber may hold you, make you or break you. Beyond sky and sea you go, but only to your roots return. Face dream and madness, dust and death; use them against each other, as they use you. You already carry destruction within you, but without it you may fail. The sword is the key, but the key is not the sword. Dragon's wings. The prophecy..._

She falls silent and the glow fades from her eyes as she growls quietly one more time as if in emphasis. Looking at Luna and Six, she comments, "Interesting. That's the first time in over a year that I had a response exactly when someone asked me. I think I will watch your future career intently." Flamewind explains that she cannot provide an explanation of the vision, but spends a little time speaking to the pair. Then she takes her leave, saying that she may contact them later.

Luna and Six return to the inn, to rejoin Nameless and Gareth. Corven joins the others in the evening after having completed his crafting work for the day. The group exchanges information about what they have learned. Corven grabs an early dinner and heads to High Walls to follow up on the investigation. There, he meets Cala at the Bitter Draft. She tells him that she has been doing a little checking and has found a worker named Rolan who thinks he saw Hestia and Drass in the Blackbones area of the Cogs, which is below High Walls. Rolan is present in the tavern and speaks to Corven. He says he remembered it because he bumped into them by mistake and the guy swore at him. Though he does not know Drass or Hestia personally, the people he saw fit the description Cala gave. Corven asks whether Rolan could say where the pair was going or had come from, but Rolan says that with the size of the Cogs, it's impossible to say.

Corven thanks him and when he leaves, discusses with Cala what options there are for the investigation. While they are conversing, Corven catches a glimpse of a flame-shaped tattoo on the arm of a man heading for the exit*. The man's jerkin had moved for a moment, revealing the tattoo. Corven quietly points it out to Cala and the pair leave the tavern and follow the man, who is dressed like a laborer. From the marks on his clothing, Corven guesses that he is a bricklayer. The pair successfully follow him down the street and down a couple more, before he ends up at what looks like a boardinghouse. Corven quickly infuses an invisibility spell, uses it on himself and follows the man in. He heads up to a room on the next floor and enters, closing and locking the door behind him. After listening at the door and hearing nothing to indicate that there is anyone else in there, Corven returns to Cala. He suggests that she get someone to keep an eye on the house and the man, and that they can enter the room the next morning when the occupant is at work. Cala agrees and takes Corven to the nearby home of Toras, a former member of her company, and arranges for it.  

Corven and Cala return to the tavern, where Corven spends some time having a few drinks, talking with her and getting to know some people. Eventually, he makes it back to Underlook and the Happy Harvest, and packs up for the night. 

***
The next morning, while they are wrapping up breakfast and planning to all accompany Corven to High Walls, the innkeeper Palk comes to the group and tells them that there is someone asking for them. This turns out to be a well-dressed young gnome, who introduces himself as Flim Turen, a correspondent from the Korranberg Chronicle. After the momentary thought of "Oh Gods! It's the Press!", which is shared by many of the Misfits, they ask how they can help him. Flim says that he believes the group was involved in an attack on a tavern at Tumbledown. There is a universal denial of his statement, to which he then asks, "How about an attack on a drug den in Tumbledown?"

To the horror or amusement of the others, Luna says, "Oh, that's different - we did that." Flim quickly flips open a pad and begins to ask questions about it. Gareth persists in saying, "No comment," to most of his questions, but that doesn't help much since most of the others, especially Luna, provide Flim with varying degrees of information. Gareth gets especially agitated when Nameless smiles and says, "My friend here is looking for his sword," but luckily for him, Flim doesn’t seem to spend too much time on the subject.

During the discussion, Six asks Flim exactly how they knew they were involved. Flim says that since it was mid-afternoon, there were dozens of witnesses, and the attack involved a human wearing full plate armor covered with symbols of the Silver Flame accompanied by a warforged with a spiked chain, it was not difficult to find them (the shifter, half-elf and three other humans helped narrow it down). He says that he checked at the Cathedral and at the Clifftop Adventurers Guild and obtained their names and location accordingly.

When Flim asks what the group is called, Luna laughingly says that they are "the Guardian Angels", a name that Flim says will definitely help make the story a little memorable. He also asks about their goals and aims, and Luna mentions something about cleaning up the place. Flim seems highly amused at the notion and asks whether he can quote her, since "Guardian Angels Vow to Clean Up Sharn!" would make a great byline. This leads to a combination of hilarity, face-palming and comments of "Oh, we're so dead" from the newly renamed group.

Deciding that he might as well join in, Gareth asks Flim when the article would appear and learns that it would be out on the 6th, two days later. He tries to persuade Flim to delay the article, promising that he will then get a better story. Flim asks why he should believe that, to which Gareth replies, "Because you have my word and I am a paladin." Flim waits for a couple of seconds, as if expecting more, and then says, "Should I repeat my question?", leading to even more hilarity at the table. Still, after some of the others join in and the Guardian Angels promise to speak with him on the 6th and give him more information if he manages to delay the story, he says that he will do what he can. 

After he leaves, Gareth tells Nameless that he should not reveal things about the sword's loss, which leads to a short argument about trust and backing up one's allies, with Gareth arguing that Nameless is hurting Gareth's attempt to recover a treasured family heirloom and Nameless arguing that they have all almost got themselves killed trying to help find Gareth's sword and are continuing to do so. This argument is interrupted before it really takes off, by a Sivis messenger with a letter for Gareth from his family, and the Guardian Angels make their preparation and leave.

As they are about to catch a skycoach, they spot Killian a skybridge away, also hailing a skycoach. He does not seem to have seen them. Quickly deciding that some should follow him, Six and Luna take a skycoach and do so, while the others continue to High Walls. Luna wildshapes into a dog before doing so, hoping that this will let her get close to Killian, if need be, without getting spotted. 

Their skycoach follows Killian's till it reaches the Dragon Towers area of Middle Central, where he disembarks. They do so too and follow him at a distance until he enters the House Sivis enclave. Seeing that he is not accosted by either the guards to the extended enclave area or those guarding the inner enclave proper (which is what he enters), they presume he is known here. Six waits for a few minutes to draw a rough sketch resembling Killian, and then heads for the guards with Luna in tow. When they stop him, he shows the picture and says that he is looking for this person. One of the guards looks at the picture and asks, "Kylyman?" Not particularly surprised at the variant name, Six says, "Yes" and the pair are let through to the inner enclave. One of the guards who leads them in says that their timing is good since Kylyman just returned.

Inside the enclave, Six speaks to a receptionist in the foyer and says that Kylyman is expecting him. She leaves and returns shortly with Killian in tow. He seems confused at seeing Six, though he shows no signs of recognition, and says that he does not know who Six is. While Luna and he note that Killian/Kylyman's voice is a little different to Killian's, Six says that he knows the gnome as Killian and has met him a number of times. After a minute of trying to work out what is going on, the gnome's expression clears and he says, "Yes, yes, now I remember. Please follow me," and leads the pair to a private room.

There, he explains that he still has no idea what Six is speaking of, but wanted to discuss this elsewhere than the foyer, where they were drawing attention. While Six speaks to him, Luna in canine form makes sure to sniff around the gnome in the hopes that she will be able to identify him by smell if she has to later. Six tells the gnome about their meetings with Killian and he reiterates that he has never seen them before and is called Kylyman. He also says that evidently someone is impersonating him, and asks for as much information as possible. Six tells him everything about Killian, the meetings in the Lucky Nines casino, the loss of Gareth's sword (he also asks Kylyman if he can help and provides a sketch of it), where the group can be found, and about their planned meeting that evening. Kylyman notes down everything he says and thanks him for it, saying that he will investigate this immediately. 

Once this information has been exchanged, the gnome tells Six that if the warforged needs to contact him, he should simply visit the enclave and ask for Kylyman Dorian d'Sivis. Six asks what he does there, and Kylyman says that he is a member of the Speakers Guild, but gives no other details. He bids Six goodbye and the latter leaves, with Luna in tow.

The other three, meanwhile, reach High Walls, meet Cala at her lodgings in the New Cyre inn, and accompany her to the suspect's home. On the way she says that she has discovered that he is a bricklayer named Neb, who was in Breland when the Day of Mourning occurred, and has been here ever since. Other than that she knows nothing about him. Reaching the boardinghouse, they speak to a couple of the people who have been watching it, who say that Neb left for work nearly an hour ago and that he is part of a crew repairing an old building two streets away.

Cala says that she will speak to the landlady about them searching the room and goes to do so, while the three Guardian Angels head upstairs. Corven picks the lock to reveal a simple and small room, and then searches it thoroughly with Nameless' help, while Gareth stands guard. He eventually finds another of the parchments with the flame-shaped symbol and the name Zokar, but this one without a date on it. When Cala joins them, Corven shows her the parchment and they decide to bring the man back to the house and question him.

The four of them head downstairs and Cala sends a boy to Neb with a message regarding trouble with his room. A few minutes later, they see Neb approach with the boy, at which point Corven uses a detect thoughts spell that he has infused. As soon as he enters the sitting room they are in, Cala shuts the door behind him. Surprised at seeing the armed and armored group, Neb begins to stammer, seem worried and asks what they want. Corven begins to read his mind and discovers that he is worried that "they know".

Neb makes a break for the window, which Nameless promptly shuts, and Cala knocks him out. After they tie him up, he is revived and questioned again. This time he blusters and threatens them that if they do not free him, Zokar will burn them. When he is asked about Zokar, Corven picks up images of flame in his mind. Neb says only that Zokar will burn them as he will burn the enemies of Cyre. When they ask about the three missing people, Neb claims not to know them, but Corven picks up images of a burning figure laid out on a stone slab (though the image shows no fuel for the fire). While the questioning continues, Corven picks up a steadily increasing degree of fear and eventually Neb begins to beg the group to free him, because otherwise Zokar will punish him.

Moments after saying this, Neb goes rigid for a moment and then begins to scream and writhe around as if in considerable pain. Gareth attempts to exorcise him, just in case he is possessed, which has no effect. With Neb screaming in pain and shouting, "No, Zokar! I did not tell them anything! Please spare me!", Corven asks what is happening and where Zokar is. He picks up feelings of great pain and the name "Kielsten" in Neb's mind. A moment later, Neb's body explodes into a burst of flame, scorching Gareth and badly burning the other three**, especially Cala, who was trying to restrain Neb. The flames continue to burn around and all over Neb's body, but the others notice that he does not seem to be badly burnt. Even so, he screams in agony and arches his back, and then is literally split in half from the groin to the chin. As he is, streaks of black shoot up his body and all three of the Angels recognize it as a manifestation of a necromantic death effect, though they do not recognize the specific effect. Whatever it is, it is extremely effective, since it kills Neb instantly. The flames disappear too, leaving a slightly scorched corpse. Corven notices that the tattoo on his arm, which had begun to pulse and glow as the flames appeared (and more brightly than the flames), fades back into being a normal tattoo - or at least looking like one. 

With all the commotion now ended, the landlady (who had abandoned her sitting room to the group) sticks her head in, takes one look at the corpse, screams and passes out. 

* 29 Spot check! 
** Natural 1s for Corven and Nameless, who now have no eyebrows


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar:

We return to the inn and see Bodo is waiting for us.  He informs us of his day’s events and I tell him that while I appreciate his hard work he needs to stop.  During that night I have a strange dream, a premonition from the Silver Flame no doubt, and I awake realizing that I have progressed in a way that is rare.  I feel a new power emanating from my being.  In the middle of the night Nameless shakes me awake, for the sole purpose of being annoying.  I wonder how he will take it if I shake him awake, while he is resting for new spells.  During breakfast, I have a conversation with Bodo and I tell him that he needs to start going to school.  Bodo looks mortified, and starts to put up an argument. I tell him that he can either 1) go to school or 2) go back to the streets.  Six tries to convince me that Bodo would do better by continuing along his path, and I tell him flatly no.

Six then starts lecturing me about pride and confidence and that is the reason I lost my sword.  He gets unbearably close to insulting my belief in my faith.  As if a machine, one that’s been around for about a 1/4th of my life knows what it means to have faith.  He still has problems understanding why we eat.  We then start to break out into a full blown argument as Six starts to condemn Killian.  While I have no love for Killian we have zero evidence showing that he has committed any crime.  Six tries to explain that in the underworld evidence is not needed and by the time there is evidence it is too late.  I explain to him that he has nothing at all, not a rumor, not an informant, not even evil radiating from him.  Six’s only counter was that detect evil does not work.  Apparently, being naïve made it so he missed the point.  I left it at if we have proof that Killian has done anything wrong I will be the first to condemn him.  Hopefully the group will not try anything vile against him before we have that proof.

After the argument Narik and his partner Lothas come into the inn to have our meeting.  We inform them about the information we have gathered, and that we will have final specifics before we leave.  We are asked for as much information as possible but I tell them we need to wait until the last possible moment.  I would prefer to keep the “in-the-know club” to a minimum.  They mention Deemin and Finch are getting a bit sword-shy, due to their drug den encounter.  I hope they are not backing out, but I think those two will join us anyhow.  Narik also gives Six some information with leaving Sharn to Xen’drik.  First, I do not think we will need to flee Sharn.  No matter where we go, what we do, we will always make enemies and fleeing will not help. Second, I still do not understand why we are going to Xen’drik, and I believe I heard something with regards to archeology.  I know Six has a taste for artistic endeavors, but he will have to explain to me why I want to go on an archeological expedition, which has no impact on the battle vs evil.

After we complete the meeting the group parts ways to run some errands.  I take a suggestion that Six gives, the only good one that came from our argument, and go speak with the Finders Guild.  Karr’Aashta, who hired us in the past, is a detective of sorts and will find out as much information as possible with regards to Kizmet.  I pay him 50 galifars and inform him that I can pay much more if need be.

I return to the inn and see Nameless there.   We do not speak much, especially after our previous arguments, I am having a bitter taste in my mouth with being in his presence.  Luna and Six return and that bitter taste strengthens at the sight of the robot.    When Corven returns he tells us about his day and then he takes off.  I turn in early this night, which is something I have not done in a while.

In the morning I come down to see the group speaking to someone.  I find Luna spilling information at incredible rates, and just as I realize what is going on I stop the conversation.  Good God, speaking to a reporter and not being judicious about our wording will not only give our enemies more information about your plans – and possibly spoil them – but it will give our enemies more information about us.  I then start in on the reporter with many “No Comments”.  Nameless decides to be a complete jackass, for what reason I do not know, and divulge the information with regards to my sword.  Why he is attempting to sabotage me getting my sword is beyond me.  Luna then names the group “Guardian Angels of Sharn”.  Not exactly the best name in the world, but much better then “Legion of Cyre”.

I finally am able to take control of the conversation and Six, surprisingly, tells the reporter –Flim- that I am the leader of the group.  I use my social skills to keep the information stem from flowing, but much damage has been done.  I have seen my father and grandmother deal with many reporters in the past and know that once they have been given something they are like bloodhounds.  Reporters should NEVER be leaked any information unless it completely, 100%, without any shroud of doubt and only after careful planning will help our cause.  A reporter who comes to us looking for information better have all the information and is just looking for a confirmation.  He only gets the confirmation if, as before, it helps us.  This I have training in.  After some time I am able to convince Flim to hold the story for a couple of days for the benefit of getting a better story.  He asks why he should trust me and I tell him because I am a paladin.  He looks dubious, and I give him a cold blank stare that this is a matter of fact.

Once Flim leaves Nameless and I start to argue.  I tell him that informing people about my sword is not his business to divulge and does nothing but hampers my chances of finding it.  Just as the argument starts, I receive a letter from Sivis.  I know what this letter is about, but do not have time to read it right now.

We make our way through town and spot Killian.  Luna and Six go after Killian while the rest of us make our way to our destination – all of us going will do nothing but get us spotted by Killian.  We get to High Walls where we meet a person named Cala in the New Cyre Inn.  We proceed to someone who she is investigating, with Corven.  Some bricklayer, called Neb, enters his home as we are waiting for him.  He tries to make a hasty retreat but we are all able to react before he can even move and prevent this from happening.

Neb then starts ranting about his dark god’s control.  He worships Zokar and fears Zokar will punish him….apparantly Zokar does so as Neb starts to scream and then bursts into flame burning most of the group.  After the fire stops we notice that Neb does not show any signs of burning, but there is some necromantic residual effect.


----------



## shilsen

Writen by shilsen - 11/8/05

*Session 13 - Back to the Cogs*

Corven quickly checks the body to confirm that Neb is dead, while Cala revives the landlady and easily persuades her to leave the room and not return. Six and Luna arrive at this point and are quickly filled in on what has occurred. Corven also mentions to everyone that when he asked where Zokar was, he picked up the name Kielsten from Neb's thoughts. Cala says that she knows of one Kielsten (surname Marquan) in High Walls, a locksmith. After some discussion, the Angels decide that it would be better for Cala to put this Kielsten's home under surveillance for a while, to see if anything suspicious emerges. Cala agrees and has a couple of people take care of Neb's body, as well as telling the landlady to not inform anyone what happened here. 

When they are about to leave, Nameless suggests that they visit the priestess they had met before at the small temple of the Sovereign Host in the area. The priestess, Lanora, is pleased to see the group and then quickly surprised and shocked when they tell her what they have discovered, especially when Nameless says that it's quite possible Hestia has been sacrificed. She says that she does not know Kielsten and that he does not attend services at the temple. When asked about the tattoos, she says she has not seen anyone with one, but promises to let Cala know if she does find one. 

Once they take their leave from Cala and High Walls, Six and Luna let the others know what they discovered with Kylyman. Gareth promptly flips out about the fact that they let Kylyman know about their affairs, to which Luna protests, "Hey, I didn't say anything - I was just smelling him at the time." Six and Gareth embark on another short argument, with Corven and Nameless joining in mostly on Six's side. The upshot is that Six agrees to tell Kylyman to not act against Killian in any way over the next couple of days, so that they have a chance to recover Gareth's sword before that. 

The group then splits up, with Luna being the only one returning directly to the inn. Corven heads for the Esoteric Order, where he works on the wand he is crafting until the evening. Six drops off at Dragon Towers and heads back to the Sivis enclave, where he speaks to Kylyman. The gnome says that he was actually planning to show up at the group's meeting with Killian that evening ("so I can see who the bastard wearing my face is") and agrees to do so some fifteen minutes after the Angels get there, so that they can conclude their business first. He also promises to not reveal anything about having received the information from Six. Before leaving, Six also checks with him about the options for legal representation in Sharn, and learns that the Sivis enclave in Clifftop (which is apparently where Kylyman was returning from when the group saw him) provides such services specifically geared to adventurers. Kylyman mentions someone called Josilian Kand d'Tarlian, who is one of the best barristers in Sharn, and also says that if Six goes to that enclave he can either ask for Kylyman or use him as a reference. 

Nameless, meanwhile, heads up to Middle Tavick's and the Deathsgate district, where he drops in on Trillia. She is pleased to meet him, and even more so when she learns that he has made the breakthrough to becoming an alienist. She tells him that now that he has made the breakthrough, which is something that cannot really be taught, she will be able to exchange more esoteric information with him and show him some ways to manipulate the magic he now has access to. She asks Nameless to join her for a celebratory dinner. Though he has to decline, since they have the meeting with Killian, he agrees to join her the next day. Nameless also tells her about the issue with Zokar and asks if she has any information about the subject. Trillia and Nameless spend some time in her private library and find some documents on the subject, which indicate that radiant idols use a special ceremony to create magical links with those who worship them. These links allow them to spy on, hurt or kill the worshippers, as Nameless has already noted. The documents have no mention of the tattoos, but Trillia theorizes that they might be a focus for the link and that physically removing them or perhaps using dispel magic could block the connection. After leaving Trillia, Nameless spends some time at the Guild scribing a new spell into his spellbook and then heads to Upper Dura and Overlook, where he finds Havakhad at the Shrine of Il'Yannah. The old kalashtar seems a little surprised to see him and is unable to help with the question of Zokar, saying that radiant idols are not an area of expertise for him. Havakhad does, however, mention that he has been trying to detect exactly where Nameless' dreams came from and something has been blocking his divinations. He says that he will keep trying, and that he will let Nameless know what he learns.

Gareth visits the Broken Mirror in Callestan and gets an unfriendly reception from the shifter Arian there, though he manages to get Arian to send a friend to fetch his brother Gorlick/Redtooth. Gorlick doesn't seem much friendlier, though he agrees to speak privately after Gareth buys him a drink. Gareth asks him if he's interested in a job, but does not divulge anything other than that it will involve fighting a minotaur. Gorlick promptly asks if Gareth's messing with Daask. Gareth asks why he thinks so, drawing a growled, "Do I look stupid? Unless someone in the upper wards is hiring minotaurs, Daask is likely to be the only source for them." Gareth asks whether that's a problem and is informed that since Gorlick and his friends live in the lower wards just above the underground areas, they're a lot more at risk if they piss off Daask than people like Gareth. Gareth offers a payment of 100 galifars, only for Gorlick to ask for 500. Gareth agrees but says that he will not be able to pay at once, which gets a "Do I look like I work on installment?" and an abrupt end to the discussion. When Gareth asks whether Gorlick is sure, the shifter flashes him some very large claws and asks if he seems sure, and Gareth leaves. During the discussion, he does detect that Gorlick is mildly evil. Leaving Callestan, Gareth goes to Clifftop and the Drunken Dragon, where he finds Flan. He tells Flan that Killian must meet him right then. The changeling points out that Killian is busy and is meeting them in the evening anyway, but Gareth insists. So Flan leaves and returns an hour later to confirm that Killian is too busy, and can only push the meeting forward a little if needed. Gareth declines and heads back to the inn.

Over dinner, Bodo lets Gareth know about having found two possible schools, and then asks if he can accompany the group to meet Killian. This starts a discussion about whether Bodo should travel with the group, with Luna arguing that he will be safe and that she will protect him if needed, and Gareth refusing to put him in danger. When Luna points out that Gareth does not own Bodo, the boy does seem to be considering arguing with the paladin but finally doesn't do so. 

After dinner, the Angels head down to Lower Menthis and the Lucky Nines Casino, where Killian is waiting for them as usual. He says that he has done some checking and thinks he knows where Bhorak might be located. There is a location near the western end of Khyber's Gate where some of the new reinforcements to Daask stay temporarily before being relocated to other parts of Khyber's Gate. This location is run by Bhorak. Killian has located a guide who can show the group to the area. When Gareth asks about the guide, he mentions that she's a dwarf and a member of one of the sewer gangs, who tend to know the area under Sharn very well. From what he has been told, they will probably have to travel through the sewers and UnderSharn to the Cogs, which should be much faster. It will possibly be dangerous, but he says, "You're adventurers. You laugh in the face of danger - right?", which does draw a scoffing laugh from Luna. Killian also says that the group will have to negotiate their own payment with the guide. When he asks when he should send the guide, Gareth suggests the morning of the 6th, which will give them a little time to prepare and for Nameless to finish scribing his spell. Killian, as usual, spends a little time needling Gareth and the group, but not as much as before. He also discusses the question of what they will owe him after the sword is found, and is told that it is only Gareth who will owe him. When he asks if their sole interest in the sword is due to Gareth's interest in it, the others say that is so, with Luna adding that as far as she's concerned "there are lots of old swords available here, but Gareth wants this one," which draws a dirty look from Gareth. No real payment is agreed upon for the information Killian has provided, though he is clearly told that he is not getting a share of anything the group finds in their attack on Bhorak's lair.

Killian is about to say goodbye to the group when some of them see Kylyman walk in. The second gnome looks around, sees them, and quickly heads over to their table. Killian looks surprised to see him, as Kylyman walks up and says, "Okay, who the bloody hell are you?" Killian ignores him momentarily, turning to the Angels to ask if they are they ones who told Kylyman about him, which all of them deny. He then turns back to the other gnome, says, "Ah, busted!" and changes form, turning into another gnome, who looks a little slimmer and younger than before. Kylyman evidently recognizes him, since he says, "Son of a bitch! Thur..." before 'Killian' cuts him off and says, "Easy now - names are personal!" Then he looks at the PCs in a mock-aggrieved fashion and says, "I'm not sure I believe you about not telling him. You jerks just lost me some good money. I had a bet going with Chance that I'd go a month before you found out it was a disguise. Dammit!" 

Kylyman now seems less angry than exasperated, and explains (after introducing himself to the group and keeping up the pretence that he knows nothing about them) that 'Killian' and he do know each other. Not sure if it is just another disguise, Nameless casts a detect magic, startling the two gnomes and drawing a "You know - that's a little rude!" from Killian. The spell reveals that Killian's hat detects of illusion magic (which Nameless presumes is a hat of disguise) and that he has a number of other magical items, including a pair of rings, his vest and his belt. He no longer has any illusions affecting him, but Nameless does detect two faint transmutation auras on him. Kylyman too has a couple of magic items on him, but no currently functioning magic. Gareth tries to detect evil on Kylyman, which the gnome apparently detects and scoffingly tells Gareth that he isn't in the middle of a village and that he should be a little more careful about what he does since others might take offense.

The Angels spend a little time trying to learn more about Killian from Kylyman, but he is interrupted by the former. He does say, however, that he knows Killian professionally and that they should be a little careful dealing with him, since Kylyman wouldn't trust him further than he can throw him. Killian, who has clearly regained his composure, jokingly pretends to take offense. When Gareth asks about his real name and occupation, he says that they might as well call him "Killian", since one name is as good as another, and claims to only be an information-broker. 

With nothing more to be done, the Angels take their leave. On the way out, they see the two gnomes talking and laughing together. Outside the casino, Gareth asks Six if this is the help he expected from Kylyman, but Six doesn't rise to the bait, saying only that at least they have a little more information and Kylyman might be a useful contact. The group heads back to the inn. 

After the others turn in, Six decides to visit Karr'Aashta and talk to him about their current situation, and he leaves for the  Deathsgate district. When he arrives there, Karr'Aashta's Investigations is closed and locked. Rather than returning to the inn, he decides to simply wait there, wandering around the district to stave off boredom.

***
The night passes peacefully for the others, with Gareth having one of the vivid dreams that he has been having recently. When they arise, they find Six gone and are momentarily alarmed, but the innkeeper Palk soon lets them know that Six left a message saying that he is off investigating something. Luna comments that the group should come up with a couple of passwords or phrases that they can use to identify each other, since it would be quite easy for someone to impersonate them. She also suggests that nobody go wandering alone without informing the others about what area of Sharn they will be in. The others agree and they spend some time coming up with a set of phrases.

Shortly after breakfast, Lalia and Tasra stop by the inn. Lalia says that they returned the previous night and that she has arranged for Philo and his cronies to be handed over to the Watch. Gareth says that he was told that the Watch wouldn't be interested, and she says they normally wouldn't, but she has used a little influence with them. She says that they will be heavily fined, and since they are unlikely to be able to afford it, will probably end up doing hard labor in a city-owned workhouse. Tasra and she ask what the group has been up to and Gareth gives them a detailed coverage of their activities, especially with regard to him and the sword. When they hear about the planned expedition into the Cogs, Lalia says she will be happy to come along, since their latest job was boring and she could use the fun. Tasra declines, even though Lalia says that she actually has more experience working in urban surroundings than her (Lalia apparently does better in the wilderness), and adds that Lalia's an idiot to get mixed up in this. The pair then take their leave, after Lalia sets up a dinner plan with Gareth.

When they are leaving, Lalia asks Luna if she can speak to her. Once Luna steps into the corridor with them, she asks Luna "what's up with Gareth" and whether he "likes boys". Amused, Luna says that isn't the case, but he's just a little uptight. Lalia says, "So he's just a little slow?", to which Luna agrees. Lalia comments that must be the case, since he's horrible at picking up a hint, and Tasra laughs at her and says that she always has one thing on her mind. Lalia grins and responds, "It's not my mind I'm interested in having him on," before thanking Luna and asking her to drop in a good word for her if possible. Tasra laughs and says, "You're asking the druid to be pimping for you?!" to which Lalia responds with a dirty look and a comment to Luna that she will have to excuse her while she throws her sister off one of the towers. The two Sentinel Marshals leave and the last Luna sees of them is Lalia smacking Tasra's head as they head out of the inn.

Later, Narik and his friends stop by for more information about the Cogs job. Gareth asks them to stop by the next day, saying that they will be leaving in the evening. Narik also brings a short letter from Deemin and Finch, which explains that they have paid their debt by helping (and almost dying) in the attack on the drug den, and they are thankful to Gareth and the others but will not be accompanying them into the Cogs. Narik also says that Dala Arand (who he knows vaguely) was asking about the group at the Guild, and Luna recognizes her as the scholar they had spoken to regarding the expedition to Xen'drik.

Six, meanwhile, has a meeting with Karr'Aashta when he and some of his employees show up to open up the agency. He tells Karr'Aashta that they have information that indicates that the sword is with a minotaur named Bhorak and asks him to confirm it. Karr'Aashta says that the information will help narrow down his search and says he should have more information in two or three days. Six says that they need the information the next day, since they will be heading for the Cogs, and Karr'Aashta says he will do what he can. Six also tells him about Killian and asks for any information that he can find about him. The inquisitive says that will probably be easier than finding things in the Cogs and quotes Six a base price of 25 galifars, which Six pays on the spot. After leaving Karr'Aashta, Six visits the Sivis enclave in Clifftop. There he learns that there are a few available lawyers and also learns about the basic retainer fees and services.

After he rejoins the others, the group splits up as usual, with Corven and Nameless working respectively on the wand and the spell. In the evening, Gareth goes to the Deneith enclave to join Lalia for dinner, while Nameless goes to Trillia's from the Guild.

***
The next morning, Flim Turen returns to speak to the group. He says that he has held up the article from the edition of the Korranberg Chronicle that appeared this morning, and asks about the story that the Angels promised him. With some difficulty, Gareth persuades him to return the next morning, saying that they are embarking on something that will provide a much better story. Nameless also begins to give him the story about the Zokar situation, but Corven interrupts and (after asking Flim to give them a few minutes in private) opines that they shouldn't share the information. Nameless suggests that perhaps having that information in the paper will flush out those who are involved, but Corven prefers not to risk it and suggests that they wait until they can get more information from Cala before deciding to take this route. After calling Flim back in, they say that they will probably have a number of stories for him over the next few days. He grudgingly agrees to return the next morning, saying that either which way, the drug den story will be out in the Chronicle on the 9th, three days later. 

Shortly after he leaves, Flan arrives with the guide, an incredibly dirty and smelly dwarf called Menna. At first sight of her, Palk throws a fit and refuses to let her discuss things with the Angels in their room (or anywhere in the inn for that matter), but Gareth dropping 5 galifars in his hand has him quickly change his mind. After a quick discussion and the agreement to a fee of 25 galifars for Menna's services, the Angels ask Flan and her to return in an hour, so that they can prepare themselves as needed. Flan agrees and leaves with the dwarf, who has spent most of her time speaking to the group in poor Common and digging lice out of her matted beard and eating them with substantial relish.

After they leave, the party meets with Karr’Aashta. His investigations confirm that there is a minotaur member of Daask who runs an emplacement where Killian said he does, but he has not been able to find the location of Gareth’s sword yet. He asks for some more time and Gareth asks him to continue investigating, though the planned expedition to the Cogs will continue. They return to the inn and are soon joined by Narik, Lothas and Valin. Once Menna returns, they follow her out. She flatly refuses to get on a skycoach and leads them to the Bazaar district and across the long bridge that connects it to Dava Gate in Middle Central. A quick stop at the Deneith enclave adds Lalia, this time wearing traveling gear with a bright mithral chain shirt above it and two shortswords at her back, increasing their number to ten. 

Menna leads them down to Myshan Gardens in Lower Central, a quiet residential district, and then through and around tower bases and apartment complexes till they reach a less populated area. Leading them into a complex that seems to have been abandoned a while ago, she comes to a room that has a large hole in the wall. Pointing down, she says, "Sewers this way. You come!" and climbs in. Beyond is a gradually sloping tunnel heading into the darkness, a faint stench coming from it. As the others follow her, the stench gradually increases, till they emerge some fifty feet below street level into the sewers. 

This section seems to be mostly unused, as evidenced by the low level of garbage, but as Menna leads them deeper (both horizontally and vertically) through the tunnels that open up around them, the stench increases and the garbage seems much newer. Soon the tunnels all possess a shallow trench that allows a stream of dirty water to flow sluggishly through it. Once in a while, the group passes grates that block off certain tunnels and valves that evidently release garbage and sewage from the towers far above. Menna evidently thinks she should act as a tour guide, pausing once in a while to point out tunnels that lead to "cleaning chambers", "watch people" and "other gangs".

After nearly half an hour of travel, a pair of crossbow bolts shoot out of the darkness ahead and bounce off the wall near Gareth and Luna, who are in the lead behind Menna. The guide quickly shouts to them to stop and begins jabbering something at unseen people in the darkness. Narik, from the rear, translates, "Sounds like she knows them. She's identifying herself and telling them to let us pass." Moments later, three figures appear at the very edge of the adventurers' torchlight, all of them evidently dwarven. The one in the lead exchanges a few words with Menna and then all three fade back into the darkness. Menna turns to the group with a relieved grin and says, "My people. Grave Diggers. Very brave. Very strong. They let you go but you come quiet and quick." She leads them quickly down the passage and as the others follow, they see movement in the shadows around them and in the tunnels on either side. There is no sign of hostility, however, and the signs of their presence soon disappears. 

About ten minutes later, Menna leads the group down a short tunnel to another hole in the wall, this one leading to a somewhat narrower and steeper tunnel than the first one. With the aid of ropes and each other's help, the adventurers negotiate it without too much difficulty and eventually emerge into a huge cavern. The ceiling towers above beyond the reach of their light and the walls stretch away into darkness. The floor is too smooth to be wholly natural and as Menna leads them forward, parts of the walls show evidence of craftsmanship by human or other hands. Menna says quietly, "This UnderSharn. Come quiet now, or the hungry ones come. Many strange things her - always hungry, always waiting!"

As the group proceeds after her, more and more evidence of the historical nature of their surroundings is evident. Even though the area is badly damaged by time, smooth walls and floors show up at times, as do stairways leading up and (usually) down. Some pillars and the remnants of statues remain here and there, the latter usually goblinoid in nature. Rubble lies all around the place, with a number of cracks and crevasses making travel complicated. Some of the deepest crevasses reveal the flaming glow of lava at their bottom. Despite Menna's warning, the group travels peacefully for nearly half an hour. Six does, at one point, notice the track of what he surmises to be a giant snake crossing their path. After he points it out to her, Luna examines it and says that it was more like a huge worm, pointing out the segmented nature of the track, causing Valin to say that he really doesn't want to meet any worm that big. 

A few minutes past the worm-track, while passing along one wall of a rubble-strewn cavern, the adventurers hear the sound of shuffling footsteps in the darkness to their left. Narik, able to see in the dark beyond the torchlight, yells a warning that two human-sized creatures are advancing upon them. As the more martial adventurers quickly move to put themselves between the creatures and the spellcasters, their torches reveal the creatures to be zombies, as evidenced by their slack-jawed, eyeless visages and their shambling movement, though their speed is greater than that of the more common version. Nameless suggests moving on quickly rather than bothering to fight, but nobody seems to pay much attention (other than Menna, who has backed up against the wall and drawn a battered shortsword) and the surrounding rubble makes the possibility unlikely.

Battle is quickly joined, as the creatures simply walk up to the adventurers and strike out with heavy punches. Gareth, Luna, Lalia, Narik and Valin form a line of defenders, while Six moves around to attack from behind the zombies. Corven and Nameless fire crossbows from behind the front line, while Lothas calls upon Dol Dorn and unleashes blasts of positive energy to wound the zombies.

With the zombies now right in front of them, the adventurers see that they have hardened, almost chitinous skin, which undulates constantly as if something were moving beneath it. A beetle or two falls out of their open mouths. As they strike and are struck in turn, their skin splits in places to reveal movement beneath and a rancid stench fills the air around them. Nameless and Gareth soon recognize them to be a rare breed of undead animated by a controlling swarm of beetles, and shout warnings to the others that their blows can cause disease.

Narik, Luna and Gareth quickly encounter this theory in practice, as the blows of the zombies hammer into them, leaving painful bruises. Gareth's divinely granted immunity to disease protects him, while the fortitude of the other two shrugs off the effects. Though the zombies turn out to be very tough, the adventurers gradually hack them down. A further danger is quickly revealed, however, as the first zombie collapses. As it hits the ground it literally falls apart, exploding into a swarm of glistening brown insects, which climb onto those in the area, assailing them with a number of tiny bites.

Trying not to use up their spells, the adventurers take recourse to flasks of acid and alchemist's fire, but the combination of darkness, the movement of their allies and over-hastiness makes these have little effect*. Deciding that discretion is the better part of valor, the group quickly beats a retreat. They are pursued for some distance by the insects, but these eventually fall behind. Once they are some distance away, both Nameless and Valin find themselves suffering nausea and weakness from the effect of the bites. Lothas produces a scroll and Corven infuses a lesser restoration spell to remove their weakness, but it is clear that they are still diseased. Lothas uses another scroll on Valin to remove disease but says that he has none to spare for Nameless, so Luna promises to heal him when she is next able to prepare spells. After healing their wounds, the group continues on, Lalia chuckling as they go at the idea that they ran from some beetles but will soon be fighting a minotaur.

* I think something like 5 flasks were hurled and only one hit, with Nameless having two natural 1s.


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar:

Corven inspects the body of Neband I try to remember any information about Zokar, which brings up very little of importance.  Six and Luna then return telling us about what happened, and at this point I start to flip out.  They found out the person who looked like Killian was actually a person of house Sivis named Kylyman.  They told him pretty much everything about us.  By the Silver Flame, what possessed them to do such a thing I do not know.  I am sure they are not stupid and know that burning Killian would burn my chances of getting anymore information or help from him.  Not to mention, that Killian has not even broken any laws.  Changelings, while I do not approve, roam around looking like other people all day long.  Also, until the day we saw Killimon, we had no clue who he was.  Killian never claimed to be of house Sivis, in fact he didn’t even use the same name.  Six agrees to go to Killimon and tell him to hold off on targeting Killion until fifteen minutes after the meeting starts.

We split apart and I head down to try and recruit Gorlick, who does not seem to take to my suggestion to get his help.  In fact, he pretty much threatened me and then told me to scamper off.  I left, but not before I found out that Gorlick radiates some evil, not much, but any amount is too much.

I then head off to see Flan to get Killian, but Flan says he is not able to get Killian in the time frame that I want…which is immediate.  I guess saying my need to meet with someone is urgent does not count for much.  I leave and return to the inn.

At the inn, Bodo provides me with a number of documents for possible schools.  I will review them later to make sure they are appropriate.  The group speaks up and says that Bodo should just join us, and I argue the point.  They do not understand, and I am adamant, I will not allow this boy to enter a dangerous situation at such a young age.  He will need to get an education, a trade and if he desires to then adventure he is welcome, but this will take time – years in fact.  Luna tries to assert that I think I own Bodo, but her naïve ways apparently does not permit her to see what is going on – she can’t, as much as she claims she can, fully protect Bodo and I will not put a child at risk.  Bodo has the option, he can stay go back to the streets or he can stay with me.  Staying with me requires that he follows my rules.  If he does not like this, he always has the first option.

We finish dinner, and the argument about Bodo, and head down to the Casino.  Killian is waiting for us.  He gives us more information about Bhorak, and even says he has a guide for us.  Killian then goes on to his terms of payment and what the group will owe him.  I quickly, and sharply, remind him that the group will owe him nothing – that I, and I alone will owe him, as long as his information produces results.  Killian then asks why the other group is helping me.  I hoped their answer would have been “because we are a team” but really there is answer is half-hearted, and Nameless, which I should not be surprised, answers because of potential profits.  Luna’s naïve answer, and she apparently cannot get it through her head, is that I can get any old sword and this should not be a big deal.  What is so hard to understand that I am bonded to this sword, and it is bonded to me?  Its soul is a part of my soul.  Killian then suggests that we pay him a percentage of the exploits from this trip, and I inform him that his only payment is what I will owe him and if he wants more he will have to join the group.  Besides, we already have four extra members who will get a portion of the trip.

As Killian is about to leave, I honestly try and break the meeting off quickly, Kylyman walks in and what happens is not what I expect.  Apparently the two know each other and Killian changes back into his, presumed, original form – although we do not find out his real name we get a part of it “Thur…”  Killian questions us about this and I answer that I did not inform Kylyman about him, nor have I even met Kylyman until now.  Killian does not believe us, and in my honest opinion I don’t doubt his reasonable suspicions.  We are probably the only people he uses this disguise on.  To be on the safe side, I detect evil on both of them and get some offending words.  Neither detects as evil, and to be honest, I am tired of these games of illusion and lies.  If they will play these games, then they will know that I have resources to draw upon.  Although these two are offended by my detect evil, they are not offended by Nameless’ detect evil – I find this strange.

We take our leave, and I am all too-happy to go. We arrive at the inn, and I turn in.  I have another one of my dreams, and wake up in the middle of the night – I think these reoccurring dreams will prevent me from getting a good nights rest.  I stay up the rest of the night, praying, and when the group wakes up we realize Six is gone.  We find out that he left to look for some information.  Luna, at this point, suggests that we all leave notes where we plan to go to, before we leave, and I add that we should check in every six or so hours.  This way, if someone does get hurt, we will know to look for them.

We sit down and have breakfast, quietly, and then Lalia and Tasra stop by.  Lalia managed to have my former kidnappers sent to jail, which makes me happy, though I wish the legal system would work better.  I may have to study law, and then work to change the laws.  We talk about the mission, and Tasra says she will not go down, but Lalia says she would like to.  Lalia then asks me if I would like to have dinner with her, and I tell her I would be delighted.  On the way out Lalia comes up to ask to see Luna in private.  I am a bit surprised; I did not know they were friends.  Luna leaves for a few minutes and then comes back in.

Waiting at the inn, Narik and his crew stop by.  We give them some more information, vague but more, and tell them they will get all of the information right before we leave.  Deemin and Finch, apparently, are a bit shaken from the last expedition and politely decline, but say they will come on the next adventure if they can.

The day passes by, very slowly, and I prepare and leave for dinner with Lalia (note: handled over email with DM).

The next morning, Flim Turen, from the newspaper comes back and wants to get our information.  I try and delay him again, but he begins to argue back.  Nameless then tells Flim about this Zokar issue.  I am not closely attached to this mission and am not familiar with the nuances.  I leave the decision to Corven, who gives some objections.  Nameless convinces Corven that Flim can turn around and get us some information.  This is a good point.  We have absolutely no reason to help the local media out.  Giving them information does nothing positive for us, except *potentially* a better reputation, though it could be a worse reputation.  As such, I think we should only give information to the press if they 1) can provide us with information, 2) it does not harm a quest or 3) it will not harm innocents.

Flim leaves and Flan arrives with the dwarf guide.  Our host, Palk, refuses to let this dwarf – who is extremely dirty – inside, but I give him five gold pieces and he quells his argument.  Luna thinks we overpaid, but I explain that keeping Palk happy makes our lives easier and also ensures that Palk will help protect us if we need it.

I head off to Karr’Aashta, with Six and Luna.  Karr’Aashta tells us that there is a minotaur who runs some of Daask’s operations, but he has no details of my sword.  I find out that Six has been here earlier and told Karr’Aashta of the news I was going to tell him.  While there is no harm in this case, why is it so hard for this group to understand – if you plan on talking about someone else’s business, talk to them first and make sure it is OK.  People need to learn to respect other’s privacy.

Nameless and Corven return from their respective guilds, and Nameless has finished scribing the scroll of Haste the group purchased for him.  This spell will be much more useful for us then a spell of slow, which may not always work.  Everyone meets up and we head to the Deneith barracks where I pick up Lalia.  She is wearing a mithral chain shirt and two short swords.  I think the ten of us should be successful.

We begin our decent to the Cogs, and find ourselves jumping into the sewers.  As we go down, we eventually get accosted by a group of dwarves, who our guide calms down.  Apparently these are her clan mates and they let us pass.

After this, we went on for a bit further, and encountered a pair of zombies.  I yell to the group, against Luna’s protests, to not expend our powerful resources since we will need them later.  Given that we handicapped ourselves, and these were no ordinary zombies, they were some kind of bug zombies and their bite can cause a disease in a person.  It did, in fact, affect Nameless and Valin.  After destroying one of the zombies, Lalia suggested we retreat from these slow moving creatures – which we do.  The zombies, at one point did slash at me, but I am fortunate enough to be graced with the protection of the Silver Flame, and shrug the disease off.

Lothas was able to heal Valin, but he was not able to heal Nameless.  Corven then infused a spell to restore the damage to Nameless’ health, but this is a temporary fix – enough to keep us going until the next day.  Luna started to yell at me again, for the plan of not using our resources, but I still stand by my plan.  We will need these resources if we are to beat a minotaur and his pals.


----------



## shilsen

Written by shilsen - 11/13/05

*Session 14 - Mazes and Minotaurs*

After having healed their wounds, the adventurers continue on with Menna. They soon enter a section of UnderSharn where the architecture is in better shape than much that they have seen. About five minutes after leaving the cavern with the swarms, Menna brings the group to the top of a set of partly destroyed stairs that end twenty feet down in rubble. Midway up the stairs is an opening in the wall, which she climbs into. The others see that it leads into a tunnel fifteen feet long, with light rubble on the ground and ending in a blank wall. Menna scrabbles at the floor to reveal a tarpaulin, which has rocks holding it down. She says, "This way down to Khyber's Gate. Menna's people try live here long time and find roads in dark, but hungry ones chase us away. But Menna still remember. You go down here and go thataway (she points in one direction). Menna close hole and wait. You go left, left and right at next turns and come to fort where Daask people lives. You fight and come back. When you come, call Menna. You no say Menna, Menna not let you up." She tells Gareth, "You pay Menna now. If you stupid and get killed, Menna get no pay." Gareth demurs for a bit, arguing that they had an agreement and that if they pay now she may abandon them. Finally, Nameless pays her and says that he will give her a bonus of 15 galifars when they return to Sharn. She seems quite pleased and says she will be waiting for them.

The tarp covers a hole wide enough for 1 person at a time to drop down to a ten foot high tunnel that leads in two directions. At Gareth's suggestion Valin reluctantly goes down and checks ahead. He returns after a couple of minutes to say that the tunnel opens up into a network of wider tunnels ahead and that he has seen nobody there. The others descend to join him and Menna covers up the hole behind them. Then the group moves ahead, with Valin scouting ahead. He returns quickly to say that he has found the cavern Menna indicated and that it has a building in it where he can see light from the windows. The others hide their torches and creep up to look into a large cavern, about 20 ft high and some 120 ft wide and deep. Set into the far wall of the cavern is a stone building. The walls of the 80 ft wide building are 12 ft high and it seems to have only one floor. It is set into the side of the cavern, with 30 ft of the walls sticking out of the cavern side. A flickering light is seen from a window in the front and a narrow light near it indicates the presence of a door.

Six and Valin sneak up to the building and discover that the window is barred and there is a set of double doors within 10 feet of it. A plume of smoke appears through the roof of the building from just behind the main doors. The barred window looks into a small square room with a half-open door on the far side, which opens onto a wide hallway, from one side of which the firelight emanates. Valin and Six hear at least two voices, seemingly gnoll, coming from the direction of the fire. They also note that the small room contains a couple of weapons, some junk and a ladder.

Returning to the group, they repeat what they have found. After some discussion, they decide to follow Lalia's suggestion that the bulk of the group (other than the heavily-armored Gareth, Narik and Lothas) move up near the door and try to break through in a surprise attack. The six adventurers move up to the door. Six checks it and finds that it is both closed and has no lock, but even as he is doing so, something starts howling from the other side of the door, followed by a second howl. These are immediately followed by shouts of surprise. Six tries to bash the door open but finds it too strong. Nameless quickly summons a lemure in the hallway that he can see, commanding it to open the door. Even as the shapeless creature oozes forward, a hairy form enters Nameless' limited area of vision. It is a wolf, which bites into the lemure and knocks it to the ground. 

Meanwhile, Luna joins Six and their combined efforts break the door open, revealing a twenty foot wide hallway, which contains a small fire off to the side and a pair of armed gnolls (one with a battleaxe and one a bow) standing behind it. A second snarling wolf stands near the door. The hallway runs left and right before turning corners. Another set of double doors stand opposite the one the group just broke open. 

The archer immediately shoots at Luna, gashing her shoulder. In response, an arrow flies over the group, shot by Gareth from the rear, hitting the archer and knocking him back. From the same direction, the group can hear Gareth and the other two hurrying closer, with Narik yelling, "Save one for me!" The axe-wielding gnoll engages Lalia, who is quickly into the room, but she deflects his blows and a swing of Six's chain drops it to the ground. The wolf is more effective, snapping at Luna's leg (which reveals the acidic nature of its bite) and bringing her to the ground. Before it can leap on her, Valin tumbles in to engage it. With the door now open, Nameless casts another spell, summoning a tentacled mass that vaguely resembles a bison right next to the archer. As the startled gnoll shouts, the pseudonatural creature surges forward and slams into his side, sending him stumbling backwards.

Corven, meanwhile, has used one of his infusions to make his healing wand twice as effective, and he uses it to partially close Luna's wounds. Six and Valin keep the wolf attacking Luna busy, allowing her to regain her feet, while Lalia quickly dispatches the prone gnoll. The archer takes a couple of shots at the Sentinel Marshal but she quickly dodges aside and drives him back towards the wall. 

At this moment, the double doors open, to reveal a hallway with doors to the sides and on the opposite wall, currently occupied by two more axe-wielding gnolls and another two archers. These four wear no armor, presumably having been "off-duty" when the battle began. The gnoll that opens the door is immediately knocked to the ground by Six, and the one next to him has an even bigger surprise. Luna, irritated at the wolves, casts a spell to dominate animals, affecting the unwounded wolf that has been worrying the lemure (which is both unable to damage it and hard to damage due to its fiendish resistances). The wolf immediately accedes to her commands, turns around and attacks the aforementioned gnoll. 

The archers have more luck, one putting a pair of arrows into Valin and dropping him, while the other shoots Gareth in the arm. But their luck is temporary, since Nameless quickly casts another spell to enmesh the hallway and them with webs from floor to ceiling, as well as the other two gnolls. The archer in the outer hallway is quickly dispatched by Lalia and the wolf that attacked Lalia goes down to Gareth and the pseudonatural bison. 

At this moment, the door on the far wall flies open, revealing a big minotaur. The creature snarls in anger, takes one look into the chamber full of webs and with half a dozen adventurers (as well as the bison and the dominated wolf) visible on the far side, and slams the door shut again. Nameless dismisses his web spell, making it easy for the others to reach the gnolls. The creatures are quickly cut down by Six, Lalia and the irritated Narik, the latter seeming quite frustrated that the others "killed almost everyone" before he got there. Corven and Lothas, meanwhile, heal the wounded and revive Valin.

Moving carefully into the area, the adventurers find that the door to the right leads to what was probably the gnolls' sleeping quarters since some of their equipment is here. There are pallets on the ground, backpacks and knapsacks lying around, a battered dartboard on the wall, a large closet and a door on the far wall. The door to the left is a stable, holding two mules that look at the intruders with mulish boredom and contempt. This feeling is presumably soon replaced by alarm, since Luna makes the dominated wolf enter the stable and closes the door, knowing that the spell will wear off soon.

After preparing themselves, the group open the door the minotaur had opened, revealing another hallway. This one contains four more wolves. Before they can respond, Luna uses a spell to hold one, while Gareth, Lalia, Narik and Six charge into the room. Though the wolves cause a couple of wounds and one even manages to knock Six off his feet, they are quickly cut down. 

After some minor healing, the adventurers check the doors emerging from this hallway too. One to the left leads into an uninhabited kitchen, while the half-open one on the right reveals the wolves' lair, an old cellblock, as evidenced by the unoccupied cells in the room. The third door leads to a more interesting discovery. It opens into a huge semi-circular hall, at one end of the curved side, with the flat section to the door's left. There is a door in the flat section and three in the curved section to the right, the furthest of them being ajar. The next is locked and barred. Between the two doors, apparently crucified to the wall, hangs a gnoll. Its legs have been hacked off and bleeding or matted wounds cover its entire body, with a small pool of mostly-dried blood on the ground below it. The remnants of an extinguished fire is on the ground nearby. Amazingly, the gnoll seems to be alive, a dull muttering coming from its battered lips. 

Luna gives an involuntary yelp at the sight and some of the others gasp or groan. As the group enters the room, the gnoll gives no sign of having noticed them. Gareth walks up and examines it, noting that no healing they can provide will save it. Walking by with eyes averted to check one of the doors, Luna mutters, "Just put it out of its misery." Instead, Gareth asks the gnoll, "Where is the minotaur?", drawing a couple of comments from the others along the lines of "You're questioning this ...?"  Gareth argues, "It is an evil creature - I have no sympathy for it," and goes back to trying to get its attention.

The gnoll doesn't respond to his question, but when he raises his voice and repeats it, the bleary eyes focus for a moment. The gnoll screams, but the scream breaks off into a bubbling cough. A mixture of blood and tears drip from its muzzle as it whines pitifully and its eyes unfocus from Gareth's. It continues to mutter to itself, intermixing speech in gnoll with the common tongue, saying, "Bhorak ... maze ... made me go in maze ... freedom … no freedom … couldn't hide ... couldn't fight ... ripped me ... ripped me ....." 

Corven, who has been looking at the fire, turns to the group with a queasy expression and says, "Look!" They see that he is indicating a number of small objects near the fire, and quickly recognize them to be strips of flesh. Some of them look as if they have been chewed on. "I'd prefer it if I wasn't right," says Corven, his voice matching his expression, "But I think whoever's been torturing this gnoll was actually cutting pieces of it, cooking them and making it ... um, eat them."

Luna turns around from looking in the half-open door and yells, "Damn it, Gareth! Just kill the poor thing," and it is accompanied by Narik, who says a little more calmly, "Do what she says." Gareth sighs, says "All right," and stabs the creature. It dies without a sound, leaving only the slowly dripping blood.

The adventurers then check the various exits. The half-open door and the locked and barred door both lead into a set of tunnels which resemble those outside in the Cogs. Six finds signs that something with sharp edges was dragged through the upper door, going by the scrapes on the wooden lintel and the flakes of wood on the ground. The door below the locked one leads into what seems to be an unused barracks. The door on the opposite wall to the three leads into a large bedroom. It contains a large double bed with a bare mattress, which has evidently seen much use by a large creature (and a hairy one, from the coarse hair that litters it). Near the bed on the ground is a large pallet, which also looks like it was recently used. The room also contains a table, chairs and stools, all sized for creatures of at least ogre size. On the far wall is a well-made door with bands of iron, which is ajar, revealing a room (5 ft x 5 ft) that has stone shelves along the walls. In checking it, Six finds more scrapes on the lintel and a couple of gold coins on the floor. A smaller door is in the western wall, and another door in the southern wall. The latter opens into another bedroom. This one seems unused, with a double bed, two chairs and a table, a closet, an open (and empty) chest and a curtained-off area. The last leads to a small alchemist's workshop. The workshop hasn't seen use for a while, but Six finds a few usable vials and flasks.

Nameless helps check the area with the aid of a detect magic spell, and then returns to the earlier chambers with some of the others. After checking all of the area, they return to the entrance hall, where they find that one of the turns leads to a lavatory that opens into the gnolls' room, and the other has two small wagons stored outside a room full of provisions and basic equipment. Nameless finds some minor potions on the dead gnolls, but nothing else that seems to be magical, and they return to the semi-circular hall. With no other route to follow, the group heads into the maze.

They follow the left wall, hoping that this will make the maze easier to pass through. After about ten minutes of travel, some of it taken up by retracing their steps from cul-de-sacs and dead ends, they emerge into a large cavern. This chamber is about 50 ft long and wide and 40 ft high. It has three tunnels opening into it, the most northerly one being the one they emerge from. In the far wall is a large wooden door with the word “Freedom” crudely painted on it in some dark paint that looks like blood. A couple of the adventurers venture the opinion that this is some sort of trap that the tortured gnoll fell afoul of. After carefully looking in the other tunnels to make sure there is nobody there, the group moves up to the door and Six and Luna prepare to try and open it.

As they are about to try it, the door flies open, slamming into Six and knocking Luna off her feet. Revealed beyond it is a chamber about 20 ft by 20 ft, with four large chests stacked against the far wall. A more immediate concern for the group is the large grayish-green creature that stands next to the door. It is at least nine feet tall, with long muscular arms that end in dagger-sized claws. Yells of "Troll!" ring out, even as it roars in fury and beats its chest in challenge.

The adventurers react quickly, Nameless sending a volley of magic missiles slamming into its face, while Narik and Lalia place themselves next to the door and strike at it, landing shallow blows. Behind them, Lothas casts a spell to bless the group, while Valin moves forward, pulling out a flask of alchemist's fire, and Corven hurries to infuse his wand, knowing that significant healing is likely to be necessary quickly. That is especially the case for Six, who the troll focuses on, wounding him with claw and bite. Six quickly backs out of the fight, allowing Gareth to take his position. Even as Corven heals Six of some of his wounds, the warforged tries to send his chain past Narik's shoulder and trip the troll. The creature's brute strength and bulk is too great, however, and Six has to drop the chain to avoid being pulled off his feet.

For the next few seconds, the first line of Narik, Gareth and Lalia engage the creature, preventing it from leaving the room and taking advantage of the fact that it is fighting across the doorway, while those behind try to provide support. An acid arrow from Nameless misses and spatters against the wall, but Valin's flask shatters on the troll's hide and draws a growl of pain. Luna, back on her feet, casts produce flame and hurls it successfully too. Though the troll's natural regeneration closes some of its wounds and render others less effective, the fiery wounds remain unaffected.

The troll is significantly wounded, even though it does not seem about to go down, and the numbers of the group seem likely to prevail handily, when a momentarily forgotten enemy reappears. Nameless, left alone in the back while the others all move in on the enemy, hears a low growl and the rush of air. Spinning around, he barely has time to see the minotaur come charging out of the most southerly of the tunnels, actually flying above the ground. Even as he shouts warning to his companions, the minotaur's horns slam into his chest, sending him to the ground, bloodied and unconscious*. "Fools!" shouts the minotaur, now clearly seen to be armored in a strange harness of bands of iron across its upper body and wielding a falchion taller than any member of the group. "You have entered the maze of Bhorak and now you will never leave!"

The arrival of the minotaur draws a shout of glee from the troll. Even as Lalia lands a series of quick slashes to its chest, it reaches out and sinks its claws into her shoulders. And then it simply pulls in opposite directions**, causing her to scream as blood bursts from the wounds and her mouth, and then to go limp. Gareth shouts in anger and calls on the Silver Flame to smite it (as he already has once), doing significant damage, and Narik lands another blow on it. Luna completes a spell she has been casting for a few seconds, causing three eagles to appear right behind the troll. They swoop down on it, clawing and biting at it, and though their attacks have difficulty penetrating its thick hide and armor, they do affect it somewhat***. Luna quickly begins to cast another spell.

Corven quickly uses his specially infused wand to heal Nameless back to consciousness. Rather than rising to his feet, the groggy wizard simply casts a spell from where he lies. Another pseudonatural bison appears beside the minotaur, slamming its horns into his side and drawing an angered groan. The enraged minotaur turns and slashes at the bison, literally cutting it into three pieces with two swipes of his falchion. Turning its red eyes on Nameless, it grins in triumph and says, "Your puny creations cannot stop me - or save you," and then drives its horns at him. Nameless barely manages to roll aside, but cannot avoid the creature's fanged mouth, which snaps down on his skull and leaves him comatose****.

Corven is about to try to revive him again, but unfortunately the minotaur, which has been having a hard time hitting Narik due to his dwarven skill versus such giants and his large shield, decides to take another tack. It reaches out and simply grabs him by the shield, lifting him off the ground. With one swing, it slams Narik into Corven, knocking the latter off his feet. Luckily for Nameless, Lothas is right next to Nameless, and he reaches down to heal the mage, bringing him back to consciousness for the second time in the battle. 

Also luckily for the embattled adventurers, the troll's tactic leaves its defenses down and they take full advantage. Valin drives his shortsword into its side, while Luna's eagles tear into it. Calling desperately on the Silver Flame another time, Gareth smites it again, burying his sword in its spine. The creature screams and drops Narik, before gradually collapsing backwards. As it hits the ground, Luna brings down a bolt of lightning on it, trying to ensure that it will not regenerate soon enough to bother them.

While this focus on the troll ensures that it goes down, this leaves Six, who had tumbled across to join the now-dissipated pseudonatural bison in its attack on the minotaur, alone facing his opponent. Bhorak smiles with glee and strikes out at him. Though the warforged warrior tries to dodge aside, its falchion strikes him, crushing in the entire front of his chest*****. Seeing that the troll has gone down and it is alone facing multiple foes, Bhorak doesn't wait to make more attacks, but flies upwards till it is close to the ceiling. 

As the various adventurers quickly heal themselves or others and try to prepare ranged weapons and spells to hurl at it, the minotaur levels its sword downwards at them. Streaks of flame run down the blade and explode outwards, hurtling down at the group. Most of them manage to dodge the worst of the blast, with Valin actually managing to leap completely aside, but all of the group are somewhat burned. Luckily for them, other than the recumbent Nameless (who has meanwhile cast a spell to haste everyone) and unconscious Six and Lalia, that is, their positions putting them just beyond reach of the flames.

Having unleashed the flames, the laughing minotaur looks at the enemies and picks a target. It ignores the three eagles, which charge it at Luna's command, other than to casually backhand one out of the air. Gareth, just as he manages to pour a potion down Lalia's throat to revive her, catches its attention. Bhorak streaks downward, horns forward, and slams into him, driving him into the wall. Gareth collapses immediately. Then it begins to gain altitude, giving Lalia a chance to return the favor and revive Gareth.

As Bhorak tries to fly higher, Nameless (still not bothering to regain his feet) casts a Web spell, entangling it within its strands and holding it in place. The creature roars angrily and then even more so, as Luna's call lightning slams down on it. With no other target in reach, it strikes out at the pair near it. Lalia manages to dodge away but its falchion hits home to almost disembowel the recumbent Gareth ******. It then tries to get further away but succeeds in moving only a few feet due to the spell. 

Trying to make sure that it has no further opportunity to target another ally, Nameless casts a stinking cloud in the area, drawing cursing and threats from the now concealed Bhorak. Which quickly turns to more cursing as Luna summons a swarm of bats in the same area. With a few moments to recover, the group quickly does some healing, Lothas tending to the wobbly but now upright Lalia, while Corven hurries across to Six. As soon as he is conscious, Six uses a magical oil to heal himself. As he does so, he says, "I just wish we had a way to make that thing weaker," causing Corven to slap his head and say, "Damn! I should have thought of this!" Six doesn't bother asking what he is referring to, getting to his feet and retreating to the cover of a tunnel, this time with bow in hand. Corven ignores him and begins to infuse a spell into a wand.

While Narik and Valin abortively fire arrows into the cloud, Nameless suggests someone take his potion of fly and prepare to attack the minotaur as it emerges. Lalia takes up the offer and moves up to drink it. As she is doing so, there is the sound of ripping webs and then a frenzied coughing. Bhorak flies out of the cloud, doubled over and coughing. "Son of a cow!" yells Nameless, "The cloud got him!" Even as he speaks, Luna's call lightning slams down on Bhorak. A split second later, Six releases an arrow. Nauseated and disoriented, Bhorak does not even see it coming, and it buries itself fletching deep in his throat*******.  Bhorak screams and gurgles up blood, just as Corven levels the wand he has been infusing. A black ray shoots out and hits its chest. Those watching see the minotaur's bulging muscles go slack and limp********

Bhorak staggers in mid-air and lurches downwards towards one of the tunnels. Even as he reaches it, Nameless shouts, "Not this time!" and casts his last spell, sending a volley of magic missiles slamming into him. Bhorak collapses on the ground, seconds before one more blast of lightning from Luna leaves him a smoking heap. Lalia, who seems to have been waiting for something, flies down to the troll and slits its throat. Her sword leaves an acidic trail as she does so, and the wound kills the troll instantly.

Luna revives Gareth and the adventurers take stock of their many wounds and almost completely depleted resources. Limping to the chests, Gareth bashes open their locks and opens them one by one. To his dismay, none of them contains his sword. What they do each contain is a set of ten small but heavy bags. Opening one of them, he pours out a stream of golden coins. Everyone stops dead from what he or she is doing to simultaneously calculate what the chests contain if each of the forty bags is the same. "DAAAAAMN!"

* Took Nameless from 30 pts to -3.
** Two claw hits and a rend, for 60 pts of damage
*** Over the course of the fight, I rolled approx. seven 20s for the eagles, including one 20 confirmed with another.
**** Took him to exactly -10. First 'death' of the fight.
***** Really bad luck. Six's AC was up to 30 and I got a 34 (roll of 18) to threaten and a 32 to confirm, doing 63 pts dmg.
****** 3rd 'death'
******* Critical (albeit needing 2 actions pts for confirmation reroll, since a 20 to hit was followed by 1 to confirm) for 37 pts
******** Natural 20 with a Ray of Enfeeblement infused with Corven's last infusion. 11 pt penalty to Str.


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## shilsen

Written by AviLazar - 11/14/05

After fleeing from the battle with the zombies we continue along our path being guided by Menna.  We do not have anymore encounters and we then reach the end of the road, where Menna will not lead any further.  She gives us directions to where we need to go, and then asks for payment.  I tell her I will pay when we return and she seems upset about this.  Nameless then takes a jibe at me, as usual, and pays her then tells Menna he will pay her again if she remains.  We send Valin in first, who is at first not happy.  Lothas jibes at him and tells him that he is the one skilled to do so and should just do it.

We take our time, keeping our lights low or completely off but finally come to an area that opens up into a huge cavern, where a stone building is located.  I ask Valin to go scout ahead, and Six then volunteers to go also – which I was a bit surprised about.  They go and spy a room and hear some voices inside, though they are not sure how many and what type though they believe it is gnollish in origin.

We then formulate a plan, using Lalia’s suggestion, having those who are stealthier go up and wait to go in.  After the group advances for a while I hear some howling and then followed by a casting of a spell.  I had an arrow knocked and ready to shoot at any target that appears inside the room.  Luna and Six work together to break the door and then two gnolls and a wolf appear.  I cannot get a good shot at the wolf, so I target the one gnoll with a longbow and launch an arrow into his chest.  I run towards the battle.  Narik charging by my side, eager to enter the fray screams battle cry after battle cry.

A battle ensues, which seems to go in our favor and then a door opens with four gnolls waiting, just like before, two with axes and behind them two with longbows.  Nameless was ready for this and launches a web spell at them which hinders them.  Luna was able to dominate one of the wolves who help us dispatch the gnolls.  I enter the fray, finally after catching up; I am able to take care of the remaining wolf – assisted with some disgusting bison which I can only assume that Nameless has summoned.  Note:  Nameless was grinning from ear to ear, and especially smiling at me.  All I can say is I am glad it is not a fiendish bison, though what that thing is well its pretty disgusting.  We dispatch the monsters, and finish off our dominated wolf and search the rooms very quickly.  We enter a large room and I see a gnoll staked to the wall and gutted.  It is barely alive and I start to question it.  Luna tries to kill it and I quickly block her.  The first thought in her head is to always kill and I wish she and the rest of the group would halt on those notions.  Sometimes we need to question our opponents.  The gnoll, however, in his state of delirium provides no information and I end up gutting him in the throat with my sword.

We search the side rooms, seeing some bed’s and one sized for a minotaur – though no Kizmet.  We prepare to head into a maze, following the left wall, and then come to huge chamber.  There are three tunnels and on one of the tunnels is written “Freedom” in blood.  We figure this is a trap, but I figure this is where we want to go anyhow – as our adversary is probably there.  Six and Luna go to the door to inspect it and then it is slammed crashed open knocking Luna on her back.
I first see four large chests and standing above them was a very…very…large “TROLL” screams everyone.  I quickly yell “Form in a semi circle, let him come to us and we can surround him” but Narik does not listen and he runs up.  Committing us to a bad position we all follow up to support Narik.  Lalia runs up to stand beside him, and I yell to Six “Step back so I can have your spot” which Six does after the Troll works him over a bit. I run up, standing to the right of Lalia, getting some cover from the door.  Six is then healed, slightly, by Corven.  Then Six tries to trip the troll, but is unsuccessful.  We do a lot of damage to it, some from fire and acid, the rest from our weapons which it regenerates.  

Just as the battle seems to be going our way, I hear a loud thud as Nameless’ body is flung to the ground and I notice his assailant is the minotaur who yells at us “Fools! You have entered the maze of Bhorak and now you will never leave!” This does not look good.  With Nameless, and thusly his haste spell, gone we are in big trouble.  The troll, in its happiness, lands some significant hits on Lalia, rending her and knocking her unconscious.  In a fit of anger, and with all my might I summon a smite and a divine might and deeply cut into the troll.  Nameless summons a bison and places it between him and the minotaur.  This serves as nothing more then a small distraction as the minotaur destroys the Bison and then works on Nameless.  After Nameless is brought back to consciousness, I shout “The haste spell, use the haste spell” and Nameless does so speeding us up.  The troll then grabs Narik and uses him as a club to hit Corven.  Seeing this disastrous event I summon all my strength, summon divine might and smite the troll, embedding my sword deeply into its body.  The troll drops to the ground and then Luna drops a lightning bolt on it to ensure it stays down.  Realizing that I have time for one more quick attack, I again drive my sword into the troll, as it’s wounds are regenerating.  I get a shout from Lothas “It will not regenerate for a while, concentrate on the minotaur”.

The next chance I get I pull Lalia from the fray and give her a potion to wake her up.  The battle proceeds and I stand atop Lalia, guarding her from any would-be attackers.  Then the minotaur charges into me and I drop from consciousness.

After the battle I awake, startled by the hairy sight of Luna, only to tilt my head slightly to the left, I smile as I see Lalia.  I am related the rest of the battle, and grumble as I find out that Luna decided to kill the minotaur instead of questioning it.  Again, with the killing before we get everything we need.  Can’t people wait a few minutes before slaughtering?  We search the chests, and I eagerly wait and hope to find Kizmet.  While we find a great deal of money, the payroll of Daask, Kizmet is not there.

Six starts to compose a letter “Stay out of our area, and we will stay out of ours.  We are now even. Boromar”.  This letter gets a few chuckles out of everyone.

I comment to everyone, “This battle was the hardest we have ever encountered – ever, and at one point most of us were dying.  We survived because we worked as a team, nobody seeking the glory all to themselves, and everyone working hard to keep everyone else up.  I was able to revive Lalia, and a few rounds later I went down, but at least she was up to take my place.  I think with this valuable lesson, we can defeat any opponent we encounter.”  Thinking for a second, “Though I did take down that Troll, pretty damn well if I say so myself.”


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## shilsen

*Session 15 - The Return of Kizmet*

After the momentary pause while everybody visualizes a small mountain of gold, the adventurers quickly check the four chests. All of them contain the ten sacks holding 1,000 galifars each, but the last also includes a javelin and a flat metal chest, about 2 ft long and broad and 6 inches high. Luna detects a number of magical auras from within the box, as well as one of abjuration on the box itself. Presuming there is a trap, Corven checks it and finds a glyph of some kind. With Valin's aid, he disarms it and opens the box, to reveal a sealed letter, a smaller wooden box, and a scroll tube. 

The wooden box has three magical rings within it and the scroll tube has three scrolls. While Nameless deciphers the scrolls (one has two divine sending spells, another has two cure critical, and the third has two fly and two gaseous form), Luna detects weak auras of illusion and transmutation on the letter. Corven recognizes the single word on the letter to be 'Cavallah', written in the giant tongue, and when he goes to open it, a pair of lips appear on the envelope and say, "Greetings, members of the Guardian Angels. Do not be alarmed. Please touch the page and say 'Thrakel' to receive a message." The magic mouth then fades away. 

After exchanging a couple of looks with the others and explaining to a curious Lalia that no, they did not know anyone was expecting them, Corven opens the letter to extract a sheet. It seems to be a list, reading: 'Cavallah - 6,000, spell ring and scroll 1; Harash - 4,000 and scrolls 2 & 3; Cazha - 3,000 and ring of protection; Torarg - 3,000 and javelin; Keshta - 2,000 and ranger ring; Elite - 6,000; Ranks - 3,000; Supplies - 10,000; Miscellaneous - 3,000.' Corven says, "Looks like details for the payroll," and then says the word 'Thrakel' (giantish for 'warning'). Immediately, the writing fades away and is replaced by a letter, causing both Corven and Nameless to identify the spell as a secret page.

Corven then reads the letter aloud to the others:

20 Sar, Dravago

To the Guardian Angels:

You do not know me, but I have been expecting you. I mean you no harm and will take no actions against you, whatever your response to this letter. You are, however, probably in possession of money and items belonging to the leaders of Daask, and they may be a danger to you in ways I cannot prevent, so it may behove you to not take these - or be very careful if you do. 

But these petty material matters are not why I am writing this. Be warned. There are eyes upon you that you do not know of. You are in danger and will be in greater peril soon. Prophecy bends around you. You shall stand where present and future spark, where light is turned to dark and choose to make or mar. You will know when you are there. Once you have taken up your burden, think of Droaam and my message. I may be able to provide guidance and aid, if you come to me. And again, I promise to bring no harm to you or yours. Think upon it. The choice is yours alone, but the repercussions will be felt by many.

And lastly, Daask does not have the sword. Make sure to find it. You will need it.

If you come to Droaam, and if you come ...

Sora Teraza 

Some of the Angels realize immediately that the letter (if genuine, as Corven points out) is dated nearly two weeks before Luna coined the name for the group while talking to the KC reporter. Both Luna and Six realize that some of the phrases used sound very similar to those spoken by the sphinx Flamewind during her vision. And lastly, Nameless and Corven both recognize Sora Teraza as the third and least known of the three hag Daughters of Sora Kell (in contrast to her sisters Sora Katra and Sora Maenya, who are legendary terrors), who now rule Droaam. The two tell the others that all they know about her is that she is supposed to be a seeress of some sort. "Apparently a bloody good one," comments Lalia, "If she's leaving letters for you guys."

After a quick discussion of what to do, where Nameless' half-joking suggestion that they leave the money behind ("because Killian's expecting us to remove it and mess up Daask") is quickly rejected, the group breaks up and go about various tasks. Some check out the rest of the maze, finding it to be smaller than originally seemed to be the case. Others move through the complex, smashing the skulls of each of their slain enemies, so as to make it difficult for anyone to use speak with dead or other spells to learn who they were. After some discussion, they do however decapitate the crucified gnoll and take the head with them, hoping to use speak with dead on it themselves. Others re-check the various rooms for anything that was missed (and especially Gareth's sword, as he keeps reminding them), but their search is abortive. They set fire to the bodies of the minotaur and the troll. Finally, Six leaves a note stuck to the door of the room where the chests had originally been kept, reading, "Thank you very much. Boromar."

Once they are done, the group hurries back to the tunnel above which Menna is waiting. Six hangs back and covers up their tracks as best he can, though he points out that a good tracker will find it easily enough. As they enter the tunnel, some of them hear the sound of multiple feet in the distance, but nobody stops to investigate. When they have quietly called "Menna" a couple of times, she opens the tarpaulin and looks down suspiciously, to say, "Menna sleeping. You done?" They throw a rope up, which she secures, and soon everyone is up in the tunnel above. Menna closes the tarp, loads it down with stones and leads them back.

The return trip is uneventful until they enter the cavern where they had fought the zombies and swarms. Menna warns them that the swarms may still be around, and soon enough, Narik and she see them advancing on the group. She suggests that they back up and she "lead you new way," and the group hurriedly agrees. Even as they do so and are moving back, another swarm falls off the ceiling above, some of them landing on Menna and Luna. The hasty retreat is accompanied by pained yelling and cursing, as the insects bite into the two, but the combination of some healing from Lothas and a flask of acid from Nameless takes care of the problem long enough to let them make their escape.

Menna leads the group to the wall of the cavern, where a couple of rough openings lead into darkness. Taking one, she leads  on, while warning the group that this area is relatively new to her. As they follow her through the tunnels and chambers, the adventurers see more evidence of ancient Dhakaani architecture. Passing through a large chamber with a fresco showing hobgoblin warriors battling some foe that has now faded away, they hear the soft sounds of weapons and armor from behind the fresco. As they hurry their pace, four spectral hobgoblins charge forth from the fresco, wearing armor and wielding weapons. They scream soundlessly as they charge the adventurers, most of whom put themselves in a posture of defence. Gareth unleashes a blast of positive energy, hoping to affect the creatures, but they seem impervious. As they sweep into the group, some swing at them, to no evident effect. The hobgoblins, however, seem to have no physical affect on the group, simply sweeping through them (a momentary coldness envelops those they touch in passing) and into the wall beyond. Nobody stops to see what happens next, hurrying into the exit tunnel and away.

A few moments later, some of the group begin to feel that they are being watched. Again, nobody stops to investigate, simply hurrying on as soon as the feeling appears. As Corven points out, it's not as if they think they're ever not being observed. The feeling fades away after a minute or two.

The next encounter is not as easy to avoid. The adventurers find themselves walking through smoke or fog that covers the ground to a height of a couple of inches, and seems to be rising. More such fog is seeping in through holes in the walls. Gareth quickly detects evil around him and picks up a couple of auras in the fog, but they are evidently moving around, since he cannot focus on one long enough to learn more. This information makes the group move even faster. Since they had swung back a few minutes ago to areas they'd passed on their trip towards the Cogs, Menna knows this area well and leads them at a quick pace, but the fog doesn't seem to fade. Entering the next tunnel, they find the fog still around them (and both behind and ahead as far as they can see) and rising. 

They next emerge into a large chamber and are midway through it when parts of the fog (now close to waist-deep and feeling quite clammy) some twenty feet away shoot up into columns to a height of about six feet. They coalesce instantly into four humanoid figures, two on either side of the group. There are two human males, a human female, and an elven male. All wear cloaks with raised hoods, above rich, but somewhat old-looking clothing. Each individual is very pale, and the sight of pairs of long canines protruding from each face makes it clear that they are vampires.

After one worried look, everyone comes to a halt, many backing up towards the others. Seeing the vampires make no overtly offensive actions, Nameless addresses them politely and asks, "Is there anything you want with us, or are you simply planning to kill us?" The elven vampire, who looks substantially older than the others says, "Please, don't worry. We were just wondering who was passing through this area and came to check." Nameless explains that they were just passing through, at which the vampire says that their lady wanted to speak to the group. as he says this, another column of mist rises, this one in front of the group, to coalesce into a tall female human, dressed like the others (except that her uncloaked hair hangs free to her waist behind her), other than for a  gold chain bearing a glowing blue gem at her throat. 

The other four vampires (who Gareth has, unsurprisingly, detected as moderately evil) bow to her, and Nameless does the same. He then addresses her as he did the others. She walks forward and greets the group, introducing herself as Mina. She says that they get few people passing through the area and would like to chat with them a bit. Especially since they are evidently adventurers and such people usually have interesting stories. Figuring that they really don't have a choice in the matter - or at least not one that doesn't involve pain, substantial blood loss and undeath - the adventurers agree. One of the first four vampires opens a hidden door in the wall and leads the group down a set of stairs to a very well appointed sitting room. 

Mina offers the group some drinks ("though that's probably in really bad taste, coming from a vampire"), which another vampire turns gaseous and floats through a hole in the wall to fetch. She then asks the group to tell her "some gossip about Sharn", since she doesn't get out much, not having been above ground in the last two or three months ("you lose track of time down here"). She complains that unfortunately, people tend to scream and run when they meet vampires. Nameless asks whether she's tried the Karrnathis, since they tend to be less opposed to undead, but Mina says that's primarily the case with their own undead. She says that she's "technically Brelish, though it's not like I've paid taxes in a while." The adventurers tell her about the drug den and some other things, which seem to interest and amuse her. 

Eventually Gareth, who has remained standing and looking significantly uncomfortable all this time, blurts out, "Since you are evil, and you know that many of us are good, why aren't you trying to kill us?" Mina spends a little time guffawing before proceeding to give Gareth a short lecture about the fact that being evil doesn't mean that one needs to run around "killing babies and eviscerating puppies all the time, however much fun that may be," and that she has no problem with him just because he's "good in some cosmic sense." She also points out that many worshippers of the Flame tend to see things in simplistic black and white terms. 

Mina finishes by saying she wants to give Gareth a little demonstration that everything isn't how he may expect, and walks up to him. After reassuring him that she means no harm, she picks up his holy symbol and handles it with no evident discomfort. Then she asks him for a flask of holy water, says "bottoms up!" and chugs the entire thing. When she does so, she does seem slightly pained, and a moment later two wisps of smoke emerge from her nostrils, but seems otherwise unaffected. After apologizing to the group for "showing off" and admitting that it's "fun to do that at parties", Mina bids them farewell. Before they leave, she checks where they are staying, since some of the group (who have been growing steadily more amused during the interview with the vampire) invite her to stop by if she is ever in town. 

One of the other vampires shows the group back up the stairs. Continuing onwards, they soon reach the entrance to the sewers. Menna leads them through the sewers with no untoward incidents and eventually they emerge into the abandoned building through which they entered the sewers. Nameless thanks Menna for her work and pays her 50 galifars, twice what he'd promised, sending the filthy dwarf into ecstasies. He also points out that she needs to be discreet about this job, which she agrees to once Gareth translates what 'discreet' means. Luna then offers to use a spell to wash and clean her if she wants, causing Menna to gasp in horror and dive back into the sewers.

At this point, Lalia takes her leave. She tells the group that she won't take a share of what they have recovered, since "it was quite a lot of fun, except when I thought I was dying, and the House pays my bills anyway." Gareth thanks her for all her help, gives her a kiss on the cheek, and she leaves. The remaining eight adventurers head up to the Clifftop Adventurer's Guild. Once there, they identify the unknown magic items, dispose of whatever they plan to sell, and divide up the proceeds. The Angels emerge with a number of magic items and with 5,000 galifars each. After all have agreed to be as discreet about the events of the day as possible, they say goodbye to Narik, Lothas and Valin.

Heading back to the inn, they get cleaned up, grab a quick dinner, and all pass out, other than Six.

***
Early the next morning, Six heads for Deathsgate and Karr'Aashta's establishment. When Karr'Aashta arrives and speaks to Six, he tells Six that his inquiries into Gareth's sword have given him some positive prospects and he hopes to have good news the next day. Six points out that Gareth is likely to come running at the news, but Karr'Aashta suggest he tell Gareth to hold off till the next day. Six also talks to Karr'Aashta about having someone assigned to keep an eye on the group and let them know if any of his underworld connections hear about anyone, especially Daask, planning hostilities towards them. Karr'Aashta promises to do so and says that he will charge three galifars a day, plus expenses. Six thanks him and leaves.

The others, meanwhile, awake to find a note from Six explaining where he is. They are met after breakfast by Flim Turen, returning as he had promised to get the details of the drug den raid. This time the Angels do give him the complete story. Gareth tries to keep from revealing Killian as a source, but Nameless asking, "Why shouldn't we tell him about Killian?" and Corven following with, "Well, Killian isn't even his name," quickly puts paid to that plan. Still, Flim doesn't learn much about Killian from the group. He comments that there will probably be an article about the drug den in the Sharn Inquisitive the next day, saying that he isn't surprised that nobody from "that rag" has tried to speak to them yet.

Flim also asks about what they were doing the previous day, but the Angels give him no information. Instead, they tell him about the encounter with the vampires. He seems quite interested, though he grumbles a bit that it would be really hard to work in an article on them and that they don't really fit in the regular society columns. He promises to drop off a couple copies of the Korranberg Chronicle when it comes out, and says that he will stop by in a few days to check on the Angels. 

Six rejoins the group shortly after Flim leaves. After he arrives, they use a speak with dead spell created by Corven to question the gnoll's head they brought with them. They ask three questions before the spell ends:

Q: Where does the highest-ranking member of Daask you know of dwell?
A: Cavallah lives at the Temple of the Six.
Q: Where are the other payrolls of Daask?
A: Payrolls divided among Daask members.
Q: Where do the payrolls come from?
A: Droaam.

After this, following their plan of doing as little traveling alone as possible, the group heads up to Clifftop together, where they meet Flan and set up a meeting with Killian for that evening. Then they drop Corven off at the Esoteric Order to continue work on his wand, and head for the University district to talk to Dala Arand and Kidro Osanak about the expedition to Xen'drik that Luna and Six had checked on.

After picking Dala up from her lodgings, they head to Kidro's antiquities store, where they find him alone. The old gnome is happy to meet the members of the group that he had not and says that he was planning to contact them soon. Dala comments that she checked on their credentials at the Clifftop Adventurer's Guild and some other places, and got very positive responses.  Kidro says that as a result of Dala's checking, he's definitely interested in having them along and asks if they are still interested in the expedition. Gareth promptly says, "No!", leading to a little confusion until Six and the others say that he has some other stuff keeping him busy, but they are very interested. 

Kidro then goes into some details about the expedition, saying that things are going very well. He has got Morgrave University to agree to join in the costs. Though he is still in the process of planning, he is looking at a departure between the 16th and the 20th, if all goes as planned. He comments that there were problems with the local sahuagin recently which was affecting shipping options, but apparently the Royal Navy captured some rogue sahuagin and has been able to minimize the problem. He then suggests that they work out the terms under which the group will be joining the expedition. Kidro will obtain letters of marque for the group, as well as taking care of food, accommodation, and basic equipment. He will also arrange for transportation, which will probably be in a Lyrandar sailing ship, which will take 10-12 days for the trip. Gareth asks about quicker transportation, and Kidro says that the only other option would be a Lyrandar elemental galleon (since airships currently do not fly to Xen'drik), which could shave a week off the trip, but since that is much more expensive, the group would have to foot the extra bills themselves, which would be anywhere from 300 to 500 galifars each. Most of the Angels demur at the idea, and Nameless tells Kidro that the current arrangement seems fine, but he should just check about the elemental galleon option. Gareth asks how long the expedition is expected to take and is displeased to learn that it would be anywhere from a month and a half to two months. The others argues however, that the more time they spend away from Sharn, the more things may be different when they return. Gareth also asks about the area that is the intended aim for the expedition, which is a giant ruin. Nameless asks about information that Kidro may have about what they might encounter, but the gnome has few specifics. Kidro does say, however, that they might learn more from his contact in Stormreach (he comments that his second main contact was killed by a giant).

Kidro goes on to talk about payment, offering the group a guarantee of 3,000 galifars each or whatever recovered items they choose to claim, whichever is costlier. The Angels agree to the payment without haggling, which seems to make Kidro quite happy. Kidro then says that in return, he will have the right to claim any items obtained by the expedition and the adventurers can choose whatever they want from what remains. Nobody disagrees, other than Gareth, who says that this is unfair since Kidro can just choose the "most powerful" or costly items, causing Six to comment that Gareth tends "to get a little greedy at times." Kidro points out that he is taking on the burden of organizing this expedition and running considerable financial risk by doing so. He is also primarily interested in historical artifacts and not the kinds of things that adventurers usually want, unlike someone he calls "that damned thieving Haga Wissel", apparently another antiquarian in the area. Gareth continues to argue, saying that Kidro could easily claim something that the Angels might want by saying that it is of historical value. After some argument, the final agreement is that the adventurers may choose a single item each (even from among those that Kidro chooses, if they want), but he gets first choice of two items found by the expedition, which nobody else can choose. 

With that agreement, the deal is wrapped up and the adventurers take their leave. Luna suggests that they talk to Flamewind again, in case she can cast any light on the letter from Sora Teraza and the planned expedition. Gareth and Six agree, but Nameless seems very reticent about meeting the sphinx. Finally, he says that he needs to do something else and leaves, heading for Deathsgate and Trillia's home. The others continue on to the university with Dala, who is apparently going to accompany the expedition and seems quite excited about it, chattering on about Xen'drik (which she has been to twice, though not far beyond the port of Stormreach) and the expedition. When Luna asks about Flamewind, Dala says that the gynosphinx is very popular at the university and loves interacting with people. Her visions are legendary, though they happen more rarely than the uninformed believe.

Once they reach Morgrave University, Dala takes her leave and the other three ask around for Flamewind. They eventually find her in her home, a set of chambers in the highest levels of the university tower. Historical artifacts of various kinds hang on the walls and the place is very well decorated, seemingly occupied by a human being until one notices the few seats that are evidently for someone of a large leonine shape. Flamewind recognizes Luna and Six from their previous meeting and is happy to see them again. Luna says that they wished to ask her about a particular letter and is about to hand the one from Sora Teraza to her, when Gareth grabs it, drawing an amused look from Flamewind. He quickly explains that it contains some information that is private and then proceeds to read it out, omitting the references to Daask.

After listening carefully, Flamewind says that there is little she can say about the matter, since she has had no visions about the subject other than the previous one in front of Luna and Six. She says that she knows a little about Sora Teraza, who is (as far as she knows) actually physically blind. The hag does, however, possess remarkable strong oracular powers. Flamewind says that they are probably stronger than her own, though even harder to control. As far as she knows, Sora Teraza tends to follow her own aims and devices, which are not always those of her sisters. Flamewind suggests that the Angels take the warnings seriously. As for taking Sora Teraza's aid, she says that is something they have to decide for themselves, but if they do, they should be careful.

Luna also asks Flamewind about the planned expedition to Xen'drik, but she reiterates that she has had no other visions regarding them. She does say that Xen'drik is a very interesting place and expects that the group will find it as fascinating as it is deadly. Gareth also asks her if she knows anything about his sword, but apparently she does not. The adventurers thank her for her time and let her know where they are staying. Flamewind says that it was a pleasure and asks them to let her know what happens to them, since she is quite curious to see what their future holds. She says, "My visions may not be under my control, but they do invariably turn out to be right, and the repercussions are usually important." Before they leave, she tells them that when she had the vision, a sensation she felt, even though it did not manifest itself in the words of the vision, was one of something attempting to escape. With that, she bids them goodbye. On the way back to the inn from the university, Gareth picks up a big bouquet (with Luna's help) and leaves it at the Deneith enclave for Lalia.

Nameless, meanwhile, travels to the Deathsgate district and meets Trillia at her home. He tells her everything about their excursion to the Cogs. Trillia is quite intrigued by the letter from Sora Teraza, but can shed no real light on it. The pair spend some time discussing magic, arcana and subjects that make more normal people have nightmares. Nameless then heads to the Guild and begins scribing the fly spell into his spellbook. 

Corven spends eight hours working at the Order and then travels to High Walls to meet Cala. The ex-military scout tells him that she was planning to come see him, since she has been getting a little impatient. She and her friends have been watching Kielsten, and even though there have been no overtly criminal acts, there seem to be more people visiting Kielsten than would make sense for a hardware store, especially since some of them return multiple times but don't seem to be buying anything. She has a short list of the most regular visitors. She also mentions that her friend Toras said that late one evening, he saw three or four floating flames appear behind a curtained window. They seemed to be floating and moving around in the air, but with the curtain in place he was unable to identify them. Corven agrees about her suspicions but persuades her that simply kicking in the door and shaking Kielsten till he talks would not be a good idea. He suggests that they try to detect if Kielsten or others have magical tattoos as Neb had, and agrees to return the next morning with his companions to do the needful.

After they all return to the inn, the Guardian Angels share their findings with each other. Around eight, they visit the Lucky Nines Casino, to find Killian (now in his real form, or at least the one he revealed when accosted by Kylyman) at his usual table. Gareth immediately asks him, "Where's my sword?" and berates him for giving them the wrong information. Killian, as usual, claims complete innocence and that he is completely horrified at the error. After promising to do some more searching for the sword, he spends the next few minutes alternately teasing, cajoling or mocking the group as usual, all under a very thin veneer of urbanity. He also drops in what could easily be a threat of revealing to Daask that it was the Angels that raided their payroll. Gareth responds with the same, saying that he's sure Daask wouldn't be to happy to know Killian's the one who got them to launch the attack, but the gnome doesn't seem perturbed. Some of the group do notice that he seems much less well informed about their activities at the Daask emplacement than he did about the drug den, and he tries abortively a few times to pump some information out of them. He does, however, have some information about their activities once they returned, commenting on the fact that they must have made some money in order to be shopping for magical items and telling Luna that her new periapt (which she bought that morning) looks very attractive. Once the Angels have quickly had their fill of him, they take their leave from the grinning gnome, and head back to the inn.

***
The next morning, when the others emerge from their room, they find Six waiting with a broadsheet newspaper for them. He hands it over, saying, "Sharn Inquisitive. I guess Flim left it for us. Third page." Opening it, the others find a lurid article about the attack on the drug den, entitled "Adventurers Join Gang War." Other than getting their names correct and the fact that they did attack a Daask drug den, literally everything else in the article is pure fabrication. Not only were the Guardian Angels (a name that the article doesn't use) apparently accompanied by four people besides Deemin and Finch, but they supposedly fought twenty gnolls, four ogres and two trolls, and the battle was eventually joined by a dozen halflings, some on dinosaurs from the Talenta plains. The description of the battle stops just short of stating that it destroyed the entire tower. After some very broad speculations about the interests and allegiances of the adventurers, the article ends in a rant about how this obvious lack of law and order in Sharn is a direct result of the misguided policies of King Boranel and the ruling family of Breland. The Angels' response to the article is an understandable mix of amusement and agreement with Flim's opinion of the Sharn Inquisitive. Gareth wonders aloud why nobody from the newspaper contacted them, and Corven theorizes that it is due to "plausible deniability", so that they cannot be accused of misrepresenting information from them.  

After breakfast, the Angels head to Karr'Aashta's Investigations. They are evidently expected and quickly shown up to Karr'Aashta's office, where he greets them with a smile and says that he has good news about Gareth's sword. Reaching down behind his desk, he pulls out the sword. Gareth almost jumps over the desk and grabs it. As he does so, he feels the sword throb warmly in his hands, but he notices something different about it. Even though it looks exactly the same and feels like his sword, something is missing or different. Gareth points that out to Karr'Aashta and then cuts his own arm, seeking to heal himself with the sword, but it has no effect.

Karr'Aashta seems confused, asking Gareth whether it was a flaming sword or not. When Gareth says "No," he takes the sword back and activates it with the word "Aagun", causing flames to run up and down the blade. Experimentation reveals that it does not happen when Gareth tries it, nor when Corven does so with the command word, though the latter can activate it using his artificer abilities.

Gareth asks exactly how Karr'Aashta found the sword and the latter explains that the goblin fence Maarkra had lied about handing it over to Daask and had been trying to sell it. Karr'Aashta's contacts in the underworld let him know and he purchased it, figuring that it would be the easiest way to get it. He says that it's funny that the goblin was selling it as just a fine flametouched weapon when it's actually a magical flaming sword, since Maarkra would have checked it. Karr'Aashta himself has actually had it for just about two days, but he had wanted to wait and have it identified by a reliable spellcaster (which is how he learned that it was a flaming sword and how to activate it) before turning it over to Gareth.

Gareth's first reaction at the news is to search out Maarkra an decapitate him, but Karr'Aashta suggests they not do so, since it would just cause problems in the middle of Malleon's Gate, which is a notoriously dangerous area. Plus Maarkra trying to sell the sword on the sly means that Daask did not know Gareth had lost it or was acting against them, and killing their fence would draw their attention. Gareth agrees grudgingly and then Karr'Aashta asks what the problem is with the sword. Gareth explains that firstly the sword now seems to have different abilities, which apparently he cannot activate, and secondly, that as far as he knew the sword would infuse the essence of its owner into itself and bond with him, only doing so with members of his family. Gareth asks Karr'Aashta if anyone else has spent a lot of time with the sword, which he answers in the negative, and also detects evil on the sword, which has no effect.

Puzzled, Gareth asks Karr'Aashta if he can arrange for Gareth to speak to the spellcaster who identified the sword, and Karr'Aashta says he can do that the next day. Gareth also asks how much he owes Karr'Aashta. He tells Gareth that he had to pay out 1,500 galifars for it, as well as some more for information and the identification. Considering the time and effort, he should ask for more, but he asks for a payment of 2,000 galifars. As Gareth pays him, he points out that it's a steal for recovering such a fine weapon, but he's doing it as a show of good faith, since perhaps they'll do more business in the future. 

With that, the adventurers leave, Gareth still looking puzzled and worried, and the others just looking relieved that the sword is finally back. From there, they head down to the High Walls area and meet Cala. She leads everyone to a building opposite Kielsten's shop (which is part of his house), from the first floor of which they can watch the place. About fifteen minutes after they arrive, a person who Cala says is on her list of suspects enters the shop. Luna heads downstairs, and when he emerges a few minutes later, casts a detect magic and steps out of the building. Following him along the street, she scans for magic and picks up a couple of auras from the man's shoulder. Heading back to meet the others, she explains what she detected, causing a couple to theorize that he has one of those tattoos. 

While they are discussing this, the group notices the person returning, along with two more individuals. The three of them are walking very close to each other, and as they reach and squeeze through the doorway to the hardware shop, a couple of the Angels notice that the central person's (who wears a heavy cloak that hides his features)  feet are hanging a few inches above the ground. Realizing that he is being carried by the others and is presumably a captive, they hurry down, some casting preparatory spells on the way.

Cala's friend Toras and another man are below, and she tells them to watch the one side door to Kielsten's house and grab whoever emerges. The group hurries through the entrance the three men passed through. It opens into the hardware store itself, which takes up the entire front of the building and is now empty. A staircase behind the counter at the back wall leads up to the attic area above, and a single curtained doorway stands beside it. As the group enters and heads towards the doorway, a portly dwarf steps through, whom Cala and Corven recognize as Kielsten. Though he looks a little alarmed at the sight of the six armed individuals, he says, "Greetings - how may I help you?"

Luna, evidently not wanting to waste any time with negotiations, immediately charges forward*. The dwarf tries to dodge aside, but her club lands heavily on his chest. A metallic jingle reveals the presence of armor under his robe. The others are just as surprised as Kielsten, and as he shouts, "Help! Murder!", only Nameless manages to react fast enough to cast a sleep spell. The agitated dwarf manages to shake off the effects but cannot avoid another blow from a snarling Luna, only his armor keeping him upright. 

Kielsten shouts again, interspersing his cries for help with a "Zokar aid me!", which immediately tells everyone that they are in the right place. If any other evidence were needed, the two men who entered earlier come leaping out of the curtained room, wielding shortswords with which they lash out at Luna. She blocks one, but the other moves to flank her and cuts a shallow gash in her side.

As her allies move to help, another dwarf (resembling Kielsten but younger) twitches the curtain aside, revealing a large storage room beyond. This one raises a hand and casts a spell, causing a web to fill half the room, either snaring or impeding Cala and all the Guardian Angels besides Luna. Kielsten takes the opportunity to stumble past the younger dwarf and around the doorway.

While Nameless tries abortively to dispel the web, Six and Gareth manage to push their way out of it. Six moves up to join Luna, but Gareth stays on the periphery so that he is not a target. Cala remains snared and Corven, realizing he is too, simply infuses his crossbow magically to make it do nonlethal damage and takes a shot that goes nowhere near his targets**. Luna snaps, "Gareth, get in here!" and moves up to clout the spellcasting dwarf with her club, sending him reeling back too. One of the swordsmen takes the opportunity to stab at her again. The other tries to do the same, but Six trips him and smacks him in the head with his spiked chain. Still, they provide enough distraction for the dwarf to step back and cast another spell. With a muttered, "Eat fire!", he casts produce flame and hits Luna with a handful of fire that burns her. He then yells, "Father - send the fliers!"

The call is answered instantly as three small creatures come flying around the corner, taking up position in the doorway between the dwarf and Luna. Each looks like a miniature devil wreathed in flame, and some of the group recognize them as fire mephits. the creatures cackle in glee, echoing the dwarf's speech in accented Common, and hurl scorching rays at Luna. All of them hit home, badly burning the druid and almost taking her off her feet, only the vitality granted by her shifter heritage and her attendant beast spirit, not to mention a timely bear's endurance cast before entering, keeping her on her feet.*** 

As she stumbles back from the fight, desperately pulling out a potion and drinking it, Nameless provides a very good - and bovine - distraction. He summons a pseudonatural bison in the next room, which butts a very surprised mephit. Six dispatches the man he had tripped and Gareth moves up and smites the other swordsman. As he does so, he feels his sword throb again and realizes that it has regained some of its magical power. The blow badly wounds the swordsman, who tries to flee, only to be cut down by Gareth's return swing. Corven fires again and, of course, misses. Perhaps he is distracted by the still entangled Cala beside him.

The dwarf, startled by the appearance of the bison, makes the error of hurling a handful of flame at it. While this does burn the creature, it also draws its attention, and it promptly butts him in turn. The mephits, evidently too foolish to flee, take their time to breathe gouts of flame at their enemies, which does little more than scorch them and burn away the webs holding Corven. A few seconds later, they are all dead or unconscious, one going down to Nameless' magic missiles and a really pissed-off Luna's club, and the others to Six's chain and Gareth's sword. The dwarf, realizing too late that he should have fled when he had the chance, tries to do so now and is rewarded with a spiked chain to the head that lands him flat on his face.

The Angels wait for a moment to see whether more enemies appear, and hear the sound of a startled yell in Kielsten's voice from the side of the building, followed by the sound of someone being hit. As they dispose of the web and check to see which enemies are alive, Toras and his friend enter through the main door, dragging an unconscious Kielsten between them. Toras grins and says, "Ran out the side door right into us!" Then his smile disappears and he says with a jerk of his head at the door, "There's a crowd gathering out there."

Even as he speaks, a fat dwarven woman comes barreling down the stairs, shrieking, "Help! Thieves! Murder!" at the top of her lungs. A simultaneous "Oh, shut up!" from Corven, who is checking to make sure the wounded don't bleed to death, apparently doesn't mollify her. Cala just throws her an exasperated look and heads for the door, saying, "Keep as many alive as you can. I'd like as many options for questioning as possible. I'll deal with the crowd." With that, she exits the room followed by Toras, leaving the Guardian Angels with the dead and unconscious, and the hysterical woman. 

* Surprise round, since all the PCs were just as surprised as Kielsten was.
** Another of Mike's now patent 1s.
*** At the start of the fight, Luna had 74 hit pts, a clear 26 pts more than anyone else in the group. In 2.5 rds, she went to 3 hp! 16d6+7 dmg will do that to you.


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar:

Session 15 - December 3, 2005

After a few minutes of recovering our health we begin to search the piles of treasure.  While this is the most amount of money I have ever seen at one given spot, I am actively searching for Kizmet.  We find, in addition to the gold, many magical items.  I claim a cloak of resistance for myself, a minor one, but the rest of the group gets some other items.  This is the second magical item I found due to the group.  It will help!  Alas, Kizmet is not to be found, and I find myself very upset.  Killian gave us bad information.  With the items we find a strange letter.  Strange, not because it is magically guarded, but because it is addressed to us and is dated one month ago.  The information on it also is strange as some of it is information that very few know of.  It warns of danger from Daask, especially if we take the treasure – which we ignore since we know Daask will come after us anyhow.  The person who wrote the letter, Sora Teraza invites us to join him/her so we can receive aid.  Sora says that I need to find my sword – as it will be needed.  The group seems interested in this Sora, and at the very least Sora suggested to the group to help me find my sword first.  We leave the dead bodies, first smashing their faces in so a Speak with Dead spell could not be used.

On our way up we pick up Menna and head out.  We hear the zombies up ahead, the ones we encountered before, and Menna decides to take a different route.  We start to encounter more undead, gnoll ghosts, and decide to run as we are ill-equipped to handle such a situation.  After a while, more mists arise and we try to outrun them only to be stopped by five vampires!  We should have been dead, but instead they invite us to speak with them and we do so.  They ask us for information of the top world, and inform us of their plights.  They seem lonely and only want non-harmful contact with others.  After the meeting we continue along our path and get topside.  Lalia heads back home, giving her share of the treasure to the rest of the party.  I kiss her on the cheek and tell her I will see her later.

We head back to the inn, and immediately go to sleep.

The next morning we wake up to find Six left to see Karr’Aashta.  We start to break fast and then Flim from the newspaper shows up.  I ask him to excuse us for a minute as I want to speak with the party first in private.  I explain to the party we should continue to keep most things a secret – we don’t Flim anything – and that everyone blurting out will come of no good.  We agree on a story, and make sure we do not mention our encounter with Daask.  The group then blurts out Killian’s name – which they apparently do not care about.  I tell Flim if anyone’s name comes out in the paper without authorization he can forget about ever getting a story.  Flim says he will respect the privacy of our sources.  I then start to argue with the group that they should not start throwing out names without a damn good reason.  Nameless and I begin to argue and I inform him that our sources can burn us just as easily as we can burn them.  I don’t know why this group has such a hard time with the word “discretion”.  And they call me noisy.  We tell Flim about the drug den raid and the vampires.  We make sure to mention that Boromor were the ones who came in and stole Daasks drugs.

After the meeting we take Corven to his mages guild so he can continue his work.  I then follow the group to Kidro’s store.  Kidro is a gnome who likes to collect rare objects of historical value.  The group has been negotiating an expedition and I flat out state that I will not go anywhere until Kizmet is back in my hands.  
After the meeting with Kidro, we head to see Flamewind, who is a sphinx.  Nameless refuses to go and seems a bit uncomfortable at the thought of being there.  He goes to his guild while the rest of us head to the library.  We meet with Flamewind and Luna almost hands her the letter as I snatch it away.  We keep cycling on this issue, but apparently it is impossible for the group to grasp the thought of discretion.  I read the key passages to Flamewind…those that we need information from.  Flamewind is curious about the rest, but lets it slide.  Once we are finished, we head back to the inn for dinner and we meet up with the rest of the group.  We head down to visit Killian.

Once we got to the Lucky Nines Casino, we meet with Killian and I get into an argument with him.  Killian casually fends my statements citing that sometimes bad information happens.  Killian promises to work harder to find the truth, and I am having a hard time of telling if he is lying and hiding it very well or he is actually telling the truth.  At one point Killian slips in a threat saying that it would be a shame of Daask were told who robbed their payroll…I inform him that it would be a shame if Daask finds out who sent us there.  Killian may think he has the upper hand, but he forgets that he is just as cozy in bed with us as we are with him.  Killian does mention his interest in our spending habits.  Though the people who are spending a considerable amount of wealth are those who had the money for a while – up until now Luna has not really been a big shopper.

We head back to the inn and go to sleep.  The following morning, very quickly after I get up, I head over to Karr’Aashta’s office.  He reveals my sword and I leap past every and over the table to grab it.  It feels different, however.  It looks exactly – every single inscription, and symbol – but it just feels different.  Karr’Aashta says the sword is a flaming sword, and this is confusing – it never did that for me.  Karr’Aashta activates the swords power, which is even more concerning.  I try and activate it and nothing happens.  I then take my dagger and slash my arm, and attempt to activate the swords healing powers.  Nothing happens.  Something is strange.  I cannot see the people who stole the sword making a replica – not in such a short time – not to mention why would they bother?  This sword, however, seems different.  I pay Karr’Aashta for his services – money which I plan to take out of the person who sold him the sword --- the drug fence.  He owes me a lot of money, about 3000 gold, and I will have it from him.  It will also be time for him to die; we do not need another drug fence.  One thing that interests me is that Karr’Aashta says he should have charged me more for the sword.  While I agreed with him to pay for any expenses; this isn’t buying an item at a store- his job is to recover things.  This puzzles me – but it is a good thing he did not try and sell it to me for tens of thousands – he would not have liked my answer.

After our talks are complete we head down to Kielstons shop to continue our Zokar mission.  We enter the room, well armed and prepared, and then a dwarf walks in.  The dwarf is very surprised at the sight of us.  Luna then flies into attack – without any provocation.  I scathe her for it later.  While she was correct our target was evil – she had no evidence and could have easily attacked someone innocent.  The battle ensues and a mephit on their side casts a web spell.  I finally manage to break free of it, but Luna yells at me for not coming up soon enough – as if I could!  She did what the group always yells at me for – charging in blindly, and I got there as fast as humanly possible.

When I can finally swing my sword, I summon the power of the Silver Flame and smite my target, using as much of my strength as my skill allows.  I do considerable damage to the swordsman and then continue into the fray.  The battle continues with Luna, Six and I heading in and dispatching everyone.  Corven and Nameless are in the back providing excellent support.

After the battle we try and save as many as possible for future questioning.


----------



## shilsen

*Session 16 - Kneel Before Zokar!*

The Angels check the bodies and find that Kielsten, the younger dwarf (whom the crying woman identifies as her son Daerk), one of the mephits, and one swordsman, are still alive. Gareth suggests they use no magic, in case they activate the tattoos, and they bandage their wounds to prevent them dying. The woman seems confused about their intentions, even though Gareth tries to explain to her that her husband and son were "worshipping a dark, evil god", since she keeps crying and asking them not to kill them and to take whatever they want. In exasperation, Nameless casts a sleep spell upon her.

After tying and gagging everyone, the Angels begin to search the building. Besides the large storeroom-cum-antechamber from which the cultists emerged, the bottom level of the house contains a master bedroom, a smaller single bedroom, a kitchen-cum-dining room, a small living room, a workroom-cum-office, and a privy. The stairs lead up to a large attic, partly used for storage. The woman's appearance from there is explained by the rocking chair, with a dropped pair of knitting needles and a half-completed woolen cap next to it. There is one more room at the back, with the door left ajar. Within is a meeting room with a dozen chairs and two tables. The room smells vaguely of smoke. A young man lies unconscious on the floor here, with bruises on his face, his clothes identifying him as the one who was carried in a few moments ago. The walls have curtains covering them, one of which has been moved away to reveal a door about 3 ft high, set two feet up the wall. Investigation reveals a small chamber that smells of smoke and fire, with four shallow pits in the bottom, each containing smoldering coal. Corven opines that this is where the mephits stayed. Checking behind the other curtains reveals the same stylized flame symbol on the walls, and also a shaft that leads down 20 ft to what seems to be a horizontal tunnel.

Corven suggests they check the shaft, and Luna casts a spell allowing Six to spider climb along the walls. He checks and finds that the shaft rises fifty feet above the doorway and ends, with no apparent exits. Descending to the bottom, he enters the tunnel and finds that it resembles those in the Cogs. As he is looking around, a mephit sticks its head around a corner some distance away and shoots a scorching ray at him (which misses). Six rushes towards it, followed by Luna, who simply jumps down the shaft after him, and then Corven, who goes down the rope. The mephit flies quickly down the tunnel and disappears, and some investigation reveals a number of splits in the tunnels ahead. Rather than risking getting lost on a wild mephit chase, the three return.

Cala joins the group at this point, telling them that she has taken care of the people outside and is having her friend Toras search the other rooms. Corven revives the unconscious man with some magical healing. While originally quite startled and scared, he recovers a little, though he is not much reassured by Gareth's and Corven's explanation to him that he had been kidnapped by a group of cultists, probably to be sacrificed by burning. He is Ohtar, an apprentice locksmith, who knows Maenoth and Levan (apparently the two swordsmen). He was invited to Maenoth's house and attacked by the two, which is the last thing he remembers. He has absolutely no idea about the cult's existence, and Cala theorizes that he was just an easy target (especially since he lives alone and has no family in Sharn). The group sends Ohtar to wait in the main room with the others.

They then move on to reviving and questioning the mephit. After some momentary confusion and a few words in a language that they do not understand but Nameless identifies as Ignan, the creature switches to poor Common and is quite talkative, if a little dim. It says that it was brought here by Zokar and was sent with the others to Kielsten, the head of the cult, as messengers and guards. It identifies Zokar as an angel, causing Nameless to say that fits what he had learned of radiant idols. It describes him as a large humanoid, twice as tall as Gareth, with red skin. It also mentions that Zokar is incapable of flight and nothing can fly near him. When asked what Zokar wants, it mimics him, putting on a presumably forbidding expression, and saying, "Me Zokar yah yah god of fire yah yah worship me yah yah fear me yah yah", sending some of the Angels into splits. It says that he has nine guards, or more precisely, "Many many one." When asked if it is willing to lead them to Zokar, it quickly agrees, as long as the group promises to let it go afterwards. Gareth demurs, but Corven promises to do so, and it immediately agrees. Checking to see if it is evil, Gareth finds that it isn't, and asks its name. The answer run on for a few seconds, causing Gareth to pick the first syllable and call it "Zeke". 

Toras interrupts at this point to say that he has found a safe in the office. After opening it with a key found on Kielsten, the group finds that it contains a ledger and other business papers. While removing these, they find a secret compartment, which contains a small sack of gold pieces and four documents. One is a list of people, with the title Radiant Fire above, with a little over thirty names. A couple of them have lines drawn through them, including the two above Kielsten's (which is third). It does have the names of Maenoth and Levan on it, as well as that of Neb (with a line through his). Cala identifies some of the names with lines as those of missing people, including a couple that went missing months ago and were only retroactively considered as possibly linked to the later ones. Another document has six names, three of which are Drass, Vendig and Hestia. The third is a short list of days (including the two which were on the papers found at Hestia's and Drass' homes), with the last one being the 10th, two days later. The fourth is a map, showing the route from an entrance into Blackbones to a location marked with the stylized flame. 

The group spends a little time discussing these and then moves on with the interrogations. At this point they check the unconscious people for magical equipment. They find a few things, including a potion that Gareth wants to take. This draws a dirty look from Cala, followed by a "What do you think you're doing?" When Gareth begins to explain that he's just taking something he could use, Cala explains that they aren't here looking for loot. These items may quite easily belong to dead Cyrans and are all going to the embassy so that they can try to work out whom they belonged to. She collects the various items and puts them in a sack that she gives Toras.

After that, the Angels move on to Maenoth. When revived, he seems quite fatalistic about having been captured, and apparently honestly admits to being a member of the cult for over a month. He says that Zokar promised to give Cyre back to his followers and destroy their enemies when he has enough worshippers, but Maenoth has his suspicions about both. Still, being a member made him some money, so he went along with it. He too asks for clemency for helping with information, but Gareth is less willing in this case, pointing out that he has been a murderer and helped others to be so. Still, the Angels suggest that they might be able to save him from execution. He also shares some information about Zokar, describing him as Zeke did, but adding that Zokar has stumps on his shoulders, which the Angels assume are the remains of his wings. When Gareth, trying to ascertain what kind of angel he might be, asks if Zokar is handsome, Maenoth dryly says, "Zokar really isn't my type, but yes, you could say he's handsome." Maenoth also touches on the issue of the tattoo, which is apparently created during a ritual with Zokar and allows him to watch, hurt and kill his followers at a distance.

Luna suggest that they might be able to cut off the tattoo, which horrifies Maenoth until Gareth points out that the other option is to burst into flame and die at some point. With Maenoth's reluctant agreement, Corven knocks him out and Gareth slices off the tattoo (his is on the shoulder) with the skin around it, Luna healing Maenoth as he does so to prevent death. Gareth presents the skin to Nameless, saying, "You'll probably enjoy it." Seconds after they remove it, however, the tattoo fades off the removed skin and reappears on Maenoth in the original position. Nameless theorizes that it may be like a dragonmark in being a manifestation of some internal quality, so that it will simply reappear if removed. He tries to dispel it and fails. When Corven tries and succeeds, the red lines that make it up turn dull black, but they return to the original color in twenty seconds.

With this not having worked, the group moves on to Kielsten. The dwarf proves much more obdurate than the others, refusing to say anything about Zokar other than that he will save Kielsten even if he dies. While the others are threatening him, Nameless notices a scrying sensor pop into existence near Kielsten. He quickly points it out to the others, causing Luna to suggest blocking its view with a blanket. As they are about to try this, Kielsten bursts into flame just as Neb had done. The flames, however, seem weaker and though he screams and goes limp, the flames quickly die away to leave him burned but alive. They hasten to heal him and prevent death, and then Gareth suggests that they take him to the Archierophant and ask for her help. Cala says, "Are you sure? No offense, but the Silver Flame has shown little interest in the plight of Cyrans in Sharn." Gareth angrily points out that he is helping, and Cala explains that she means the existing Silver Flame hierarchy in Sharn. While they are discussing this, the group hear more screams from outside and discover that Maenoth has combusted too. He, however, is dead. And seconds later, screams ring out from the street too.

Rushing out, they see someone aflame on the ground across the street, with two people trying to beat out the flames. By the time they reach him he is dead. Cala recognizes him as one of the people on the longer list, and the group realizes that Zokar is probably eliminating the cultists, since they are a lead to him. After a quick check of the list, Cala, Toras and Leton run off to try and save people if possible, and the group grab the unconscious Kielsten and hurry off towards the Cathedral. Zeke, with Gareth's manacles used as a collar and chain, is in tow. As they go, they hear more screams and commotion from various points of High Walls.

As they make their way up to Middle Tavick's to catch a skycoach, two members of the Watch stop the motley group. Gareth attempts to persuade them that Kielsten, carried between two of them, is drunk, but a suspicious guard checks. One look at the burned and unconscious dwarf later, the guards are pointing crossbows at the group and asking for an explanation. Corven gives them an honest account, and a combination of some diplomacy and the fact that they're getting close to a lunch break has the guards agree to put them on a skycoach and send them off.

Along the way, Gareth chats with the mephit, who now seems quite friendly (except for his unfortunate tendency to enjoy frightening people they encounter by yelling "BURN!" and cackling). He offers to let Zeke accompany them, which the mephit agrees to as long as they will let him leave if he wants and give him things to burn. Perhaps it has nothing to do with this discussion, but the skycoach driver gets them to the Sovereign Towers district as soon as possible. 

A few minutes later, the group gets to meet the Archierophant Ythana Morr. After a quick explanation of what they have experienced and seen, she explains that she cannot really help much with information regarding Zokar, since that is not one of her areas of expertise. She does, however, say that their cause seems worthy and she is always happy to help "a paladin" (Gareth) and any other "true worshipper" (Corven) of the Flame. When Gareth asks about buying scrolls or potions that help resist fire, she says she will provide them the next morning gratis. Ythana also says that she will keep Kielsten in custody and study whether they can prevent any further control of him by Zokar.

She also asks about Gareth's sword and is pleased to hear that he has recovered it. Gareth asks if she can explain some of the strange things that have happened regarding it and its powers. One example manifests immediately, since he actually feels the sword 're-develop' the powers it already had. Ythana is intrigued and suggests that she might be able to find out more if he leaves it with her. Gareth diplomatically suggests that he wishes to study it himself for now, causing her to smile and say that she understands that he doesn't want to let it out of his grasp right now. 

After thanking her, the Angels depart. Corven heads to the Esoteric Order to work on his wand, which he finally finishes. Nameless heads to the Guild, where he finishes scribing the fly spell. Luna and Six do some shopping for equipment, while Gareth stops by the Deneith enclave to meet Lalia. 

Meeting back at the inn (where Gareth has to do some significant persuasion before Palk lets Zeke in too), the Angels are met in the evening by Cala, who says that everyone on that list was affected by the flames. Four survived the initial effect, of who two died of their injuries later. The two survivors are at the embassy under watch. She thanks the group for their help, especially since two of them are not Cyran and this doesn't involve their countrymen. Gareth says that the Silver Flame serves the cause of goodness and does not discriminate among those who need its aid, whatever their country. Luna looks like she might say something about the lycanthropic purge but doesn’t, and though Cala looks a little skeptical, she simply says that it good to know. Cala says that Toras and she would like to accompany the Angels in their trip into Blackbones to destroy Zokar, and they agree to meet at the inn the next morning.

Bodo also returns late in the evening. He seems quite happy with being at school and tells Gareth that he has made a lot of friends there. Bodo seems quite fascinated with Zeke, who seems to reciprocate, and when the Angels wrap up for the night, the mephit is curled up next to Bodo's bed.

***
Next morning, Six meets the group with another set of newspapers. This time it's the Korranberg Chronicle, Flim apparently having had a copy dropped off for each of them. They contain the article he promised:

Guardian Angels Destroy Daask Drug Den
By Flim Turen

	A group of foreign adventurers are trying to make a dent in the criminal activities of the Sharn underworld. During the afternoon of Mol 2nd of Nymm, the self-styled Guardian Angels raided a drug den in the Middle Dura district of Tumbledown, apparently run by the Daask gang. During the raid, the Guardian Angels slew a number of gnoll guards and an ogre. When on the verge of victory, the adventurers were engaged by a squad of human soldiers led by two halflings, who claimed to be Boromar gang-members. They held the wounded Angels at crossbow-point and took all the drugs (apparently dreamlily) at the location. Despite this setback, the Guardian Angels remain confident in their mission to "clean up Sharn," as the shifter druid Luna, their spokesperson and the only Brelander, told the KC. In an exclusive interview, Luna denied that the Angels were working for any patron and said, "Our only aim was to do the right thing and keep drugs off the street." In view of the loss of the drugs to the Boromars, one may consider the sentiments somewhat naive, but the KC applauds this group's commitment and wishes them the best of luck. Other members of the Angels are Gareth Byron Deneith (a Karrnathi paladin of the Silver Flame) and three Cyrans - Corven ir'Lanya Deneith (an artificer affiliated with the embassy in Sharn), a mage known as Nameless, and the warforged warrior Six. The Angels were accompanied in their raid by Deemin and Finch, members of the Clifftop Adventurers Guild (as are the Angels), who preferred to not speak to the KC.
	Our correspondent spoke to various individuals regarding their responses to this incident. "I appreciate the sentiment behind the Angels' actions," said Commander Lian Halamar of the Dura branch of the Watch, "But I would prefer if such well-meaning individuals tried to work through official channels. Vigilante actions can backfire, and when they do, it is the Watch that has to clean up the mess." Captain Toras Cant of the Royal Guard angrily denied that any of his men were involved in this operation (a witness claimed that some of the men accompanying the halfling duo were members of the Royal Guard out of uniform) and threatened to lock up our correspondent if he persisted in such claims. Ilyra Boromar, city councilor from Lower Dura and daughter of Saidan Boromar, said, "Claims that the Boromars were involved in this raid, or have a hand in crime in Sharn, are totally unfounded. My father is simply a successful businessman, and it is unfortunate that envious people accuse him of criminal acts."
	The KC will follow and report on any future developments in this matter, and hopefully, on the further deeds of Sharn's new Guardian Angels.

Cala and Toras arrive while the Angels are wrapping up breakfast, and the expanded group heads to the Cathedral. Ythana meets them with the news that Kielsten is alive and currently sleeping, and she provides a set of scrolls for them. After thanking her, the group heads to Lower Tavick's Landing and down into Blackbones.  

This area of the Cogs is much like Ashblack, except that it seems to have a larger warforged population, in fact the largest that the group has seen anywhere in Sharn. They quickly head along the route laid out by the map and after about twenty minutes, find themselves entering an emptier area of Blackbones. After a few minutes, they find themselves in a deserted set of tunnels, and Zeke soon says that they are very near Zokar's lair, which is only a minute or two ahead. 

The adventurers quickly cast the resist energy spells from the Archierophant's scrolls and other protective ones, before continuing on. Less than a minute later, the tunnel they are in curves around a corner and emerges into a large cavern. A large stone door stands on the far side of the cavern and it is dotted with large and small pools of water, all of them bubbling as if they were boiling. Steam hangs in the air and the cavern is significantly warmer than the surrounding area.

As the adventurers look into the cavern, multiple enemies engage them. Four mephits resembling Zeke (who is hanging back behind the group) swoop down from the ceiling, hurling scorching rays at Luna and Gareth, who are in the lead. Four more creatures (which some of the adventurers recognize as thoqqua), which look like huge segmented earthworms, except that they glow with heat, leap forward from their position besides the closest pools, hurling themselves at Luna and Gareth. Behind them, a creature resembling a human above the waist, except for the glowing spines on its back, and a snake below the waist, emerges from one of the pools waving a spear. 

While the heat-based attacks of the creatures have little or no effect, the rock-hard bodies of the thoqquas do hurt. While Corven infuses his new wand with some infusions to make it hurl freezing rays, Cala and Toras shoot over their companions, wounding a mephit. Six slashes a thoqqua almost in half and Nameless completes the job with a volley of magic missiles, while Luna and Gareth dispatch another. As Gareth and Six advance into the room, however, the salamander slithers forward, smashing the paladin painfully across the chest with its tail. 

Even as the salamander bellows a challenge (again sadly not understood by the group), Corven triggers his wand. Two rays of ice* streak into its chest, wounding it badly, especially in view of its fiery nature. The creature roars in pain and presses the attack with the aid of the remaining two thoqqua (the mephits are totally ineffectual against the group's protections against fire), striking both Six and Gareth with a combination of spear blows and tail-swipes. A protective infusion from Corven has rendered Six's metallic exterior as strong as stone, however, and he shrugs off the blows. Gareth, however, is severely wounded and takes the chance to retreat and heal himself as Luna joins the fight.

The salamander, of course, does not have the option, and the combination of another icy blast from Corven and an acid arrow from Nameless sends it down. The thoqqua are quickly dispatched, and the mephits, unable to flee past the large group, dive down into the steaming pools and huddle at the bottom.    

Sure that they don't have time to waste, Six runs to the doors and calls the others to join him. After taking a few seconds for healing and increased protection, they do so. Finding himself left in the rear again, Nameless says, "Hell, no - not again!", casts his fly spell and takes to the air. Corven quickly says, "You know that won't work around Zokar, right?", to which he replies, "Don't worry. I'm not getting anywhere close to Zokar."

Six shoves the doors open to reveal a large hall within. Three large pillars on each side hold up a ceiling twenty feet above. A stylized drawing of the so-called Radiant Fire is on each side-wall and one on the far wall. Beneath the last stands a crude altar, about chest-high on a tall man. Behind it and extending out on each side is another pool of boiling water. Standing beside the altar is a ten foot tall humanoid with red skin and hair, holding a large flail in its hands. Zokar's features are chiseled with inhuman perfection, as is his body, which is only concealed by a red loincloth. His entire form glows dimly, as if there were banked fires beneath his skin. The only thing that spoils the perfect beauty of the creature are the stumps covered in dried blood that jut awkwardly above his shoulder-blades. 

Zokar's expression is an expectant one and he smiles with anticipation as the doors enter. "Fools!" he roars loudly, "Now you will fall before Zokar!" As the adventurers begin to enter, he moves forward smoothly towards the middle of the chamber, hefting the flail in his hands. As he moves forward, he furrows his brow in momentary concentration, and each of the adventurers feels one of the protections on him fade away. Nameless, floating ten feet above the others, is most immediately affected, his fly spell disappearing and sending him dropping to a painful landing. 

After an "Ow!", the alienist says, "Let's see how you like this," and promptly summons a pseudonatural bison behind Zokar. The fallen angel spins around with a startled expression, only for the bison to butt him right in his chest - with no apparent effect*. Zokar laughs and turns around, just in time to take an arrow from Cala right in the neck, which bounces off. "See?" he shouts in triumph, "I am beyond your power."

"We'll see," mutters Corven, who has moved behind a pillar, as he triggers his wand. Two streaks of cold leap out. One is absorbed by Zokar's resistance to magic, but the other strikes right in the middle of his chest* and bites deep, burying shards of ice in his chest. Zokar screams in pain and shock, recovering to glare at Corven, who says to himself, "Oh yeah - I'm dead!"

Luckily for Corven, his allies take a hand. Emboldened by the artificer's success, Gareth charges forward. A blow from the flail bruises his entire side, but he reaches Zokar's side and swings. The paladin calls on the Silver Flame for aid and swings with all his might, putting all the magic and physical force that he can*** into the blow. The sword strikes exactly where Corven's magic did, its flametouched nature overriding the radiant idol's resistance. The blow literally splits Zokar's chest open**** like a blow from a pick against stone, cracks appearing all his torso from which fiery light leaks forth.

Zokar's scream this time is even louder, as his knees buckle beneath the blow. And it's not as if the not-as-fallen Angels are done. Luna moves in behind Gareth, calling forth lightning to smite Zokar. But even before she can complete the spell, Six tumbles past her, spiked chain lashing out and hitting with perfect precision right on the wound Gareth left. 

This one is evidently the last straw, since Zokar staggers back another foot and then falls to his knees. The cracks run all over his body now, splitting wider and wider. He cries out, "No, this can..." and then literally falls apart, his body (strangely, complete with loincloth and flail) collapsing into a rain of little flames that hit the ground and stay there, burning on the bare stone. 

From behind the Angels, Cala says a heartfelt, "Damn! You guys ARE good!"*****

Even as she speaks, they feel a rumble in the ground around them. A second later, ten feet behind the piles of flames that was Zokar, the air itself splits to reveal a five foot high oval window. It looks out onto a cloudless expanse of clear blue sky, in the center of which floats a city full of crystalline towers. Tiny winged shapes move around it, too far away to identify. As the window opens, a light wind springs up, ruffling the adventurers' hair. The flames on the ground, however, are affected differently. At incredible speed, each is swept up and through the window. As it passes through, it puffs out. And as the last one goes through, the window disappears. The entire process takes perhaps five seconds.

The only thing that remains in the chamber are the adventurers. That is, until the thin cracks appear at the point where the 'mirror' had been, radiating out at extreme speed around the room and up the pillars and walls.

* 1 pt of damage after DR
** Natural 20 and confirmed, which went through SR 25 (with an action pt), for 42 pts of damage
*** Also known as a Smite with Divine Might and full Power Attack, using a sword with Bane (evil outsiders) on it.
**** An attack roll of 19, confirmed with a natural 20, for 60+ pts of damage.
***** And the DM's lousy. We were in a hurry and I forgot to check all Zokar's immunities. He has total cold immunity. And a couple of other effects I forgot. Ah well, for the purposes of this story, he turns into a creature with the fire subtype, fire immunity and cold vulnerability.


----------



## shilsen

*Session 17 - Goblinoids and Good Sports*

Nameless yells to the others to get out before the place collapses and turns to head in the opposite direction. As they follow him, they are met by a bloodied Zeke, who comes rocketing at them and wraps himself around Nameless' head, jabbering, "Them bastards tried to kill me!" Nameless disgustedly peels him off and Gareth heals him while they are running, during which Zeke explains that the fleeing mephits ran into and attacked him in the tunnel. He seems quite pleased at Zokar's death and a little surprised at the fact that he remained behind, since Zokar apparently "fetched me from out there."

The fleeing adventurers quickly realize that the results of Zokar's death are very localized, with the reverberations not even being felt in the tunnel, though they hear the sound of collapsing stone behind them. Not stopping to investigate, they hurry on until they reach Blackbones, and then make their way to the surface. 

Once they are outside, Cala thanks the Angels for all that they have done, and also asks them not to speak to anyone about what had occurred, explaining that it will only lead to more suspicion, and mistreatment, of Cyrans in Sharn. Corven backs her up and the others agree. Since it is certain that the multiple deaths will have drawn a lot of attention, and it is quite likely that their presence in High Walls was noted, they decide to simply explain that a fallen angel was harming people and they eliminated it. Cala also says that she will speak to Tyrala and they will take Kielsten into custody. Gareth reminds her that he wants to know what happened with the magical items found at Kielsten's house, causing Cala to say that she will check and comment amusedly that he really is quite greedy.

Cala and Toras take their leave, and the others head to the Cathedral. When they eventually get to meet Ythana Morr and tell her of their success, she is quite pleased. She explains that Kielsten's demeanor has apparently changed (probably since the slaying of Zokar) and the tattoo on him is now non-magical. At Gareth's request, she agrees to temporarily keep him in custody. Gareth also asks again about the sword, and - since he is unwilling to leave it behind - she suggests that he return later in the evening with it.

The group then splits up, with Corven going to the Esoteric Order to work on a homunculus he is constructing to aid in his crafting work, Gareth visiting the Deneith enclave, and the others returning to the inn. Later in the evening, Gareth returns to the Cathedral, where he spends some time researching his sword and helping (or mostly watching) Ythana Morr cast a couple of divinations on the sword. He learns a little about weapons that adapt themselves to, or grow in power along with, their owner, but little about Kizmet specifically.

***
The next day, the group meets with Karr'Aashta, who is quite amused to see the mephit they have along. He says that he has heard nothing about anyone searching for or putting out a contract on them. He mentions that Daask forces have apparently launched a number of brutal attacks against Boromar holdings in areas such as Callestan and Cogsgate. They have also stepped up the number of robberies, and Karr'Aashta surmises that this may be a result of the Angels' attack on them.

Since Gareth wants to pay a visit to the goblin fence Maarkra and recover his money, Nameless asks Karr'Aashta about that. Karr'Aashta suggests that they not do so, not because Maarkra is dangerous but because the Malleon's Gate area is. He also provides the information that as far as he knows Maarkra has two guards at the shop as his only security. 

Lastly, Karr'Aashta gives the group a note for Piet, the mage who did the magical work identifying Gareth's sword. Piet is a member of the Guild of Starlight and Shadows, and Karr'Aashta says that the group could probably find him there.

After leaving him, the group heads to the Guild. Nameless' status as member gets them in very quickly and they soon locate Piet, who is a young half-elven wizard. He talks with the group about the sword and seems surprised about the strange effects that Gareth has encountered. Piet suggests that he could do more tests on the sword but Gareth doesn't wish to leave it behind and asks him to do some research instead. He agrees and the Angels take their leave.

They then, as usual, have a somewhat protracted argument about whether to go to Malleon's Gate or not. Also as usual, they argue at cross-purposes, with Nameless and Six arguing about the risks of drawing attention (especially Daask's) by doing so, and Gareth arguing that they shouldn't be scared of Maarkra. Eventually they decide to go, and head down to Malleon's Gate, trying to keep as low a profile as possible. Since it is drizzling, as usual in Sharn, they have an excuse to travel heavily cloaked and hooded, and Six uses a recently purchased hat of disguise to make himself look like a hobgoblin.

Malleon's Gate looks the same as ever, seeming like an extended slum overrun by goblinoids. Reaching the shop, they enter to find Maarkra leaning over his counter and talking to a man and another goblin, both in fairly ratty-looking clothes. Nameless promptly casts a web spell to entangle the group, drawing screams of fear and surprise. Zeke, who has been ordered by Gareth to shoot at people and not set things on fire, promptly hits the human with a scorching ray, dropping him unconscious. Maarkra, wounded by a volley of magic missiles from Nameless, drops behind the counter and yells for help. 

The yell is answered by the opening of a door in the rear, which reveals two armed and armored goblins. The first takes an arrow from Six in the shoulder, causing the other to curse and slam the door shut. Since the web is preventing the others from reaching Maarkra, Nameless then dismisses it, which allows the other goblin (already wounded by a produce flame from Luna) to dive into the junk in the shop and try to hide. Not well enough, unfortunately for him, since another set of magic missiles from Nameless kills him. 

Six and Luna give chase to the two armed goblins, and find that the area behind the door is a room with multiple doors leading out. One is open and leading into a dark corridor, down which the goblins are apparently fleeing. Luna wounds the rearmost one with another hurled gout of flame but they keep going. They are, however, not fast enough to evade Zeke and Nameless, who fly after them. Nameless launches a fireball down the corridor to incinerate one goblin and Six races after the other. The corridor ends at a door and the goblin, realizing that it cannot open it before Six reaches it, turns and charges him. Six promptly bludgeons it into unconsciousness and drags it back, along with the dead one.

Corven, who has stabilized the unconscious man and confirmed that the other goblin is dead, and Gareth, who has Maarkra groveling on the ground with a sword at his throat, see a goblin open the door to the shop (Six had pulled across the curtain as soon as they entered), take a startled look at them and slam it shut. Gareth questions Maarkra about his money and learns that the goblin only keeps a thousand galifars in the shop since any more would be dangerous. Maarkra quickly gives them directions to his home, where more money is, promising to give them all the money if he is spared.

The others, who have checked behind the other doors to find a storeroom and a makeshift bedroom, return with the goblin guards. Hearing that somebody has spotted them, Nameless suggests they get out of there immediately. Luna checks through the door and says that there are still goblins and some humans outside, with no evidence of them being alarmed. Gareth wants to take Maarkra along to find his home, but the others refuse, saying that it's much too dangerous. Nameless tells him to just dispatch Maarkra and Gareth agrees to do so. Amusingly, as he swings at the goblin, Maarkra screams and dodges away, causing him to miss. As the goblin leaps desperately to his feet and makes a run for the door, Gareth swings  - and misses again*. Disgustedly, Nameless fires an acid arrow that hits the goblin in the back and drops him unconscious to the ground, where the acid gradually eats into and kills him. Nameless then pulls out his crossbow and shoots the unconscious man (whom Gareth had detected to be non-evil) in the head, doing so before Gareth can stop him. Six, at Nameless' order, kills the unconscious goblin. 

The group first checks the tunnel and finds that the door on the other side has no evident way of opening it from the inside. Rather than waste time investigating, they leave the shop. The group quickly heads for the closest route to the upper levels, but they are only a few hundred feet from the shop when a voice yells, "Stop!" in goblin. They see that it comes from a muscular hobgoblin, wearing a breastplate and with another four hobgoblins, all with armor and shields, standing behind it. A small crowd of goblinoids are standing around or peering around corners at the scene.

None of the Angels respond, but simply quicken their pace. The hobgoblin draws a greatsword and shouts again, this time in Common, saying, "I said 'Stop!' What are you doing here?" Seeing the Angels continue on their way, he yells, "Stop them!" and charges at Gareth, catching him a nasty swipe with the weapon. He is immediately followed by two bugbears, which have been standing among the goblinoids on the other side of the group, who charge forth with longspears, wounding Luna and Six.

Nameless, whose fly spell is still active, takes to the air immediately and hurls a fireball that badly scorches the four hobgoblins. They scream in pain and anger and charge into the fight too, focusing on those they can reach rather than the mage in the air. For a few seconds the battle goes badly, with the goblinoids working intelligently to flank their enemies and focus their attacks. Though Gareth strikes the hobgoblin leader (whom he attempts to smite and learns is not evil), he is wounded again. Luna too wounds her enemy and is hurt in turn. Corven manages to pull out his wand and trigger it, sending a scorching ray right through one of the already burned hobgoblins and killing it instantly, but another strikes him painfully. Zeke attempts to affect the leader with a heat metal and fails. Six, attempting to trip the leader, has his spiked chain pulled from his grasp and has to draw another. 

Then Nameless changes the odds significantly with his next spell, casting a glitterdust that blinds the leader (identified as "Margaash" by what the goblinoids say while fighting) and two other hobgoblins. This buys Gareth time to back out and heal himself, and buys everyone a little breathing space. Not much, however, since Corven, having wounded the bugbear fighting Luna with another scorching ray, is badly hurt by a hobgoblin and on the point of collapse. Luna too is badly hurt. Of course, most of the goblinoids are in poor shape too.

At this point, a hitherto unnoticed figure (hooded and cloaked), who has been steadily moving through the crowd that has assembled to see the action, steps forth and shouts, "Stop! Lower your weapons!" Apparently the goblinoids recognize him, since one bugbear says, "Oh,  me - it's Gasslak!" and quickly backs away, careful keeping its spear at the ready but not trying to attack. The others also cease their attacks, though a couple stumble back and forth due to the blindness and/or a stinking cloud spell Nameless has just cast. 

The figure raises his hands and removes his hood, to show a face wreathed by hissing snakes and reveal himself by a medusa. He calls to the group to lower their weapons again and then walks forward. Nameless, knowing that his spell is ending soon and apparently having reached his breaking point, promptly flies towards the higher levels as quick as he can. Though he has asked Zeke to accompany him, the mephit decides to stick with Gareth. Six too considers flight but sees there are too many onlookers and simply retreats away from the medusa.

With the fight now halted, most of the combatants busy themselves trying to heal their wounds, while Gareth and Margaash find themselves face to face with the medusa, evidently called Gasslak. Margaash says that he and his soldiers (who apparently belong to a group called the Ja'khor - or Blackbloods, in goblin) were told that the adventurers had murdered a number of people and come to apprehend them. Gareth denies the charge and admits that they have executed a fence and drug dealer who had stolen from him. Gasslak points out that he is not part of the City Watch and has no right to execute anybody and that it is murder. He, however, doesn't seem too concerned, and says that he has taken it upon himself to keep peace in Malleon's Gate when it seems like a good deal of bloodshed might happen. Gasslak is somewhat displeased when told of the others killed at Maarkra's shop (Gareth hastens to point out that they were killed by Nameless), and when Gareth says that Maarkra had stolen some of Gareth's money and had it at his lodgings, says that he will dispose of it to any dependents of those who were killed (including the Ja'khor member slain in the fight). He warns Gareth and the others that they should never return to Malleon's Gate (to which Six says he has no intention of ever doing so) and tells them to leave. 

The Angels quickly leave (Gareth stopping for a few seconds to ascertain that Gasslak isn't evil either) and head for the inn. Nameless, meanwhile, has decided that they need to lay low and not to wait for the others. Returning to the inn, he grabs his possessions, pays his part of the tab, and leaves. Heading to Middle Tavick's and the Guild of Starlight and Shadows, he gets himself a room there and settles in, planning to check on the others soon. He begins work on scribing one of the gaseous form scrolls into his spellbook.

The others, meanwhile, reach the inn and discover that Nameless has left. This gives Six an idea and he says that he is getting out of town for at least a couple of days or till the expedition to Xen'drik is ready to leave. Luna agrees to accompany him and the two leave. Rather than continuing to stay at the inn, the others decide to leave and head for the Cathedral. Temporary accommodations are soon arranged for them (and for Bodo and Zeke) there. 

While they are doing this, Luna and Six make their way to Lower Tavick's Landing. Passing by the Terminus district, where the Orien lightning rail enters Sharn, they come to Wroann's Gate. They depart along the Old Road with the local traffic leaving Sharn, seeing farmers leaving after a day of selling their produce, merchant caravans, the odd noble's coach, and no end of messengers and travelers. Once the road has descended from the crags and cliffs that Sharn stands upon to the lowlands, they break off the road some distance before it reaches First Tower, the first real village after Sharn. Finding a small wood nearby, they set up camp and settle down to relax.

***
The next morning, a Sivis messenger drops off a letter from Gareth's family, requiring him to pay a few sovereigns for the added trouble. Shortly afterwards, Flim Turen comes looking for the group as planned, also having stopped at the inn and been directed to the Cathedral. He is a little surprised at the news that they aren't staying together right now, and inquires whether they are splitting up. Corven and Gareth reply in the negative and Flim changes the topic, discussing the article on them that appeared in the Chronicle.

He also asks about the events in High Walls, apparently having heard about them and about the Angels' presence there. Gareth presents exactly the story that they had decided to, focusing on the issue of a fallen angel in the Cogs that they slew. Gareth also throws in a few references to the Cyran embassy helping a lot with their inquiries and being the ones who set them on the case. When Flim asks why the angel was focused on the Cyrans, Gareth says that it was apparently interested in those who lived alone and were in a weakened condition, so taking advantage of the Cyran refugees makes sense. After making some notes and asking a few more questions, Flim leaves, thanking the pair for the story and promising to drop by once before they leave for Xen'drik.

While Corven goes off to continue with his artificing work, Gareth remains at the Cathedral, attending services and reading in the library, except for a visit to Piet at the Guild of Starlight and Shadows (where he learns little besides what he already knows). Deciding that they need to know more about the laws of Sharn in particular, Gareth spends some time checking on the subject among the Cathedral's documents. Late in the day, after Corven returns, Dala Arand stops by to say that the plans for the expedition are progressing as planned. Corven suggests that the might even be ready to leave earlier than planned, and Dala says that might be possible, though she cannot promise anything. Gareth suggests that they stick with the original plan, and if there is an earlier departure possible, then Dala and Kidro contact the group with at least a day's advance notice. Dala agrees and leaves, promising to stop by in a couple of days.

Nameless spends the day at the Guild, either working on scribing the spell or sitting in his room, meditating on various philosophical questions and having arcane disputations (if slightly one-sided ones) with his pet rock. Outside the city, Six and Luna enjoy the sensations of being in natural surroundings as well as on solid ground, not to mention having less worries about people spying on them or planning to stab them in the back. Six spends much of his time practicing his craftsmanship, while Luna spends some time flying as an eagle over the Brelish countryside.

***
The group, other than Nameless, reconvenes at the Cathedral the next morning. It is 12th Nymm, the festival of Brightblade, dedicated to Dol Dorn, sovereign deity of strength at arms. By the time the others reach the Cathedral, the streets are bustling with people heading to the early services and preparing for the sporting competitions that take up most of the day. Gareth has no interest in the worship of a member of the Sovereign Host, and none of the others are much interested either, so they have a leisurely breakfast and head over to meet Karr'Aashta again. 

Karr’Aashta asks about their trip to Malleon’s Gate and says that since he was checking on them, he has heard a little about the encounter. He says that apparently Gasslak does dwell in Malleon’s Gate and help keep the peace there, and he identifies the Ja’khor as a mercenary troop from Darguun, who are among those brokered by House Deneith. Karr’Aashta also says that he has still not heard anything about Daask expressing any interest in the Angels. He theorizes that this is because of the results of the recent Daask attacks. Boromar forces have evidently struck back strongly, and both gangs are involved in a more aggressive gang war than they have been in many months. Six tells him that he should continue with the surveillance until they leave for Xen’drik, and he says that he will do so.

Leaving Karr’Aashta, the Angels head to the training grounds of Daggerwatch, where the competitions in the Dura area will occur. There, they find that there are five official categories - archery, boxing, jousting, weapons competition and wrestling. Checking on the rules, they find that no magic may be used during the competitions. Priests of Aureon and trained adepts use wands and other items to keep an eye on things. Competitors are allowed to use their own equipment as long as it is not magical. Replacements are provided for those who do not have any. Anyone detected as using magic is disqualified and fined on the spot for fraud. With the large crowds and potential for criminal behavior, numerous guards move around the area constantly. Scores of competitors move around the area, representing not only the more common races, but including warforged, goblinoids, and a couple of gnolls.

Gareth and Six decide to take part in the weapons competition, and Six enters the boxing too. The latter occurs first, and Six has an easy time with his first couple of opponents, knocking out one unfortunate man with a single punch. He eventually ends up in the district final, where he finds himself facing another warforged**, this one much larger, with spikes sticking out of his shoulders (now padded to avoid any accidents). The first couple of punches let Six know that his opponent is effectively immune to the blows from the padded gloves they use, and he quickly realizes that the other is much stronger and hits harder. Deciding to try to last the 3-minute round, Six switches to defensive fighting and putting on a show for the spectators. Unfortunately for him, the other warforged, after a few seconds of swinging and missing, connects perfectly with a haymaker that puts Six down and out.

In the weapons competition, both Gareth and Six end up in the same draw (there are two for the weapons competition, since it has the most entrants), but at least in different halves. Both of them progress well, albeit with some difficulties, a Valenar elf wielding a double-bladed scimitar landing three of the needed five hits before Gareth manages to knock him out. Six uses his tripping ability with the spiked chain to good use, keeping enemies off-balance most of the time. In the semis, Gareth ends up fighting a half-elven priestess of Dol Dorn*** wielding a longsword two-handed. Though he lands a number of solid blows and has her rocking with his third, she hits more often and manages to land the fifth and win. Six, having defeated a tough half-orc, faces her in the finals. He manages to land a couple of good hits and eventually trip her, but the priestess is up four hits to three at this point, and though he lands another hit as she regains her feet, she lands the winning blow. Six congratulates her and asks her if she wants to go to Xen'drik. The startled woman replies that she is busy right now, but thanks him for the offer and compliments him on his skills.

The Angels also watch the other competitions, seeing the shifter Redtooth from Callestan win the wrestling competition, a human warrior**** (who is apparently a friend of the priestess and the big warforged, who wins the second half of the weapons competition) win the archery competition, and the priestess win the jousting. 

After taking a break, during which Corven decides he has had enough and leaves for the Esoteric Order, the Angels head off to the Cornerstone arena of Tavick's Landing for the Contest of Champions. Arriving there, they find the arena crammed full of thousands of spectators, with a small number of aristocrats present in a special area. The lord mayor of Sharn, Cathan ir'Demell, is also on hand to open the competitions.

The first competition is the jousting, where a Valenar knight knocks the priestess tail over tip on the first pass itself. In the boxing, the big warforged ends up fighting another one in the final and beats him handily, which also wins Six some money since he has placed bets on his erstwhile opponent. A shifter from the Tavick's Landing competitions wins the archery, beating the human who won in Dura to second place. In the wrestling competition, an ogre hugs the breath out of a raging Redtooth. The weapons competition ends strangely, with a masked dwarf defeating the big warforged with ease and being on the verge of doing the same to the priestess in the final, before he suddenly concedes and quickly leaves (apparently leaving her fuming).

During the day, the Angels hear people in the crowds around them discuss various pieces of news around town, some involving them. Some talk about rumors that Cyrans have been rioting and setting fire to non-Cyrans, that Cyrans were calling demons (Zeke gets dirty looks from those saying this) to burn others, and so on. They also hear of a ship from Xen'drik having been attacked by sahuagin, but getting through safely. Someone argues that this is somehow connected with an apparent lack of fish in Sharn harbor and nearby. A popular topic seems to House Cannith and their recent offer to all warforged in Sharn to be employed by the House, which has promised to employ warforged of any ability, and offered to try to buy off any contracts they may have. A few people seem to find this a charitable act, saving many of the warforged in the Cogs from the equivalent of indentured servitude that they signed themselves into after the War. More people are suspicious of this offer, saying that Baron Merrix is trying to get control of the warforged the way House Cannith originally had, during the War.

After the prizes are awarded, the Angels depart along with the thousands of other spectators. After some discussion, Luna and Six decide to spend the night at the Cathedral too, rather than returning outside Sharn. When they return to the Cathedral, an acolyte delivers a note from Nameless saying that he'll be joining the others at the ship on the 16th.

* Needed a 5 to hit and missed twice!
** A PC from my other group
*** A second PC
**** And a third


----------



## shilsen

Writen by AviLazar:

Session 17 - December 17, 2005

The cavern starts to collapse and we charge out of there.  As we go, Zeke zooms in and grabs Nameless.  Some of the other mephitis were attacking Zeke.  After we get to a safe area, I go to Zeke and lay on hands, healing him for most of his wounds.

Cala then thanks us for her help, and is about to leave when I remind her of the magical items.  She makes a quip about me being greedy, but I think she has no place saying that since she is keeping the items herself.  We break apart and then head to the Cathedral where we speak with the archierophant about the mission.  Kielsten has changed his attitude and the tattoo became non-magical…Zokar had him under some influence, but Kielsten is not fully guilt-free of his actions.  I speak privately with the archierophant and we arrange a time for me to come back and research the issues with my sword.

The group then splits up, and I head to the Deneith enclave looking for Lalia.  Unfortunately, she is not around so I head to the Cathedral and research Kizmet with the Archierophant.  We find out some interesting information.  Kizmet is a weapon of legacy, and it is “truly” bonded to me.  It can develop powers in a number of different ways.  It develops powers based on its user and what the user does.  The Arc Hierophant suggests that the more evil outsiders I kill, and the more I specialize in my exorcism, then the more it will develop powers against them and evil.  Kizmet can also gain more power as I invest more prayer and time into it, as well as allow it to absorb other magical items.  Once we capture some spare magical items, this will be interesting to see.  We do not find much about this swords particular history, and hopefully, with my letters to my family I will be able to receive some of fathers and grandfathers notes.

The next day we meet at Karr’Aashta and speak with him about our endeavors.  He lets us know that Daask and Boromar are fighting each other even more now.  Again I suggest we head to Maarkra and destroy the fence.  Karraashta recommends we do not, and again Nameless refuses to offer any help.  We get in another argument, and he finally agrees.  Maarkra gives me a note to pass to a mage by the name of Piet.  He is the person who worked on my sword when Karr’Aashta found it.

We head down to Malleon’s Gate, and go inside of the store.  Immediately Nameless casts a spell of web, which holds our enemies fast…but also prevents us from getting to them.  Then Zeke shoots at a human in the store, dropping him.  Nameless then shoots a magic missile at Maarkra.

OOC: I told Zeke to wait to shoot who we shoot.

After the first few seconds we see two goblin guards open a door.  Six shoots one of them, and then the guard closes the door.  Nameless then drops the web and we charge forward.  I stand fast over Maarkra and tell him not to move or else. Nameless then maliciously shoots one of the humans who was begging for mercy.  He kills him before I can scream for him to not do so.  Nameless, Six, Zeke, and Luna go past the door and try to catch up with the running goblin guards. I am not able to make it fast enough so I stand over Maarkra.  Corven then heals one of the injured men on the floor.  We then see the door open and close, and we know this may present us with problems.

Once the fight is complete I start to grill Maarkra and he directs me to a safe.  We open this up and there is a thousand galifars which I pocket.  He then tells me there is more money in his home, but Nameless and Six are adamant against going.  Nameless tells me that Maarkra needs to die, and I try to do so but he keeps dodging my blows.  The rest of the group manage to take out Maarkra.  Nameless then pulls out his crossbow and kills the unconscious man before I can stop him.  I yell at Nameless, since the person who was killed was not evil and did nothing against us.

We leave the shop and start making our way back when a hobgoblin yells at us to halt.  We continue walking, but then we are engaged by him and his allies.  Another battle ensues, and the group disperses.  This does not go well since we are individually ganged up on.  As the battle starts to get better, a medusa by the name of Gasslak comes around and orders the fighting to stop.  Finally the fighting stops, and Nameless takes off.  I know Nameless does not like me, but I never expected him to ditch his allies.  He tries to take Zeke with him by calling Zeke by his full name.  Zeke ignores Nameless and stays with me.  I do not think utilizing an outsiders full name has any particular powers over it unless a specific spell accompanies it.

After the fighting stops, I use my best diplomacy, and explain to Gasslak what happens.  He is not happy about the situation, but believes what I say. Gasslak lets us go, and I am glad, I do not think we could take him with the other goblins around.  The goblins who attacked us are called Ja’khor and are the self-made guards of this area.

We head back to the inn, and find that Nameless is not there.  I guess this is good, because I am not in a mood for another argument.  Six and Luna pay their tab and say they are leaving town and will be back in the future.  Corven, Zeke and myself head to the Cathedral to get some lodging.

The next day I receive some letters from my family and write to them of the events that happened.  Then Flim Turen arrives and starts asking us some questions about Zokar.  We tell him about the events that happened, and I spin it to give a positive light to the Cyran embassy.  Actually, it wasn’t much of a spin but really emphasizing the truth.  The Cyran embassy did come to us, and if they did not, we would never have known about Zokar…or at least not for a long time.

After Flim leaves, Corven goes to work on his magic.  I stay at the Cathedral, attending services and reading more material about Kizmet.  I then visit Piet and work with him about my sword.  He gives me information similar to that from the Arc Hierophant.  After this, I head to the Cathedral and begin some studies about Sharns laws.  This will be very helpful to us, to ensure we are not doing anything that is criminally negligent.

That night, we briefly meet with Dala Arand and tell him we should be ready on time.  On the day of the 12th, the festival of Brightblade begins and Six and Luna show up.  We walk around the celebration, and Six and I compete in a few competitions.  I do fairly well, but eventually get beaten in a competition where speed counts for more then power.

We also meet with Karr’Aashta and we discuss what happened in Malleon’s Gate.


----------



## shilsen

*Session 18 - What Dreams May Come*

Corven ir’Lanya Deneith - Human Art7
Gareth Byron Deneith - Human Pal3/Clr2/Exorcist of the Silver Flame2
Luna - Shifter Drd7
Mithral 6 of 6 - Warforged Ftr2/Scout4/Extreme Explorer1
Nameless - Human Wiz6/Alienist1

*(Handled over email):*
The next morning, Narik comes by the Cathedral with someone they haven't met before. From his appearance and clothing, he's a Riedran merchant. Narik says, "This is Hamatash. He was asking at the guild if anyone is going to Xen'drik soon, so I thought of you guys, since you're the only members leaving this month, far as I know." Then he looks around and grumbles, "I didn't know you had moved here. Next time you shift, let the guild know. Makes it easier to find you and it would have saved me some time. Anyway, I gotta go. Be seeing you." Gareth replies, "Our move here was a bit impromptu, and we did not think about the guild. We will let you know once we find a more permanent residence." 

As Narik leaves, Hamatash bows and says, "If it is not an imposition, perhaps I could speak to you all privately? I need some help and have a small business proposition which I believe would benefit you." Gareth leads him to Corven's and his room. Once seated there, Hamatash says, "My brother Helkatash has been in Stormreach in Xen'drik, organizing an expedition, for the last few weeks. I was supposed to send him some money and magical equipment, but the person who was supposed to transport it is unable to go. I really need my brother to receive the shipment, especially the money. I was given good references for your group from the Clifftop Adventurers Guild and told that you are traveling to Xen'drik early next week. If you are willing to transport the shipment to my brother, we will both be very grateful." 

He pauses and says, sounding a little hesitant, "I do not have much money that I can spare, since I have spent most of what I have on these magical items and the rest goes to my brother. But I can pay you a little and maybe loan you some of the magical items for temporary use. Of course, you would need to eventually turn them over to Helkatash, but he will not need them immediately as you reach Stormreach, so you will have some use of them there, as well as here in Sharn and on the voyage, which I'm told can be dangerous." 

Gareth, who has already detected evil on Hamatash and found nothing, considers the proposition and says, "Would you be able to give us a little bit more information, as to the specific location the shipment needs to go? While I have no problem in agreeing to this, we are working for someone on this expedition to Xen'drik. As such, we would need to confer with him, to make sure it is OK with him, and that we are not far out of the way. I do not think our employer would have a problem with us taking a slight detour, but again, the decision is also his to make."

Luna, meanwhile, comments, "I hope none of these items are … of questionable ownership."

Hamatash is about to respond to Gareth when Luna makes her comment. He looks a little confused for a moment, and says, "What do you mean b...", before stopping. Comprehension clearly dawns on his face and he turns a little red. He almost rises to his feet and begins loudly, "I..", before visibly catching himself and continuing more calmly, "...I can assure you that these items are mine. I have bills of sale because I had them constructed here in Sharn." He pats a scroll case attached to his belt for emphasis.

Hearing Luna make her comment, but not able to react in time to stop her Gareth gives her a look and then faces Hamatash. "My apologies for Luna. Adventuring has caused her to see evil plots in every corner. Please sit, and continue."

Hamatash continues, "They need to be taken to Stormreach, so you will not be going out of your way. I am sure you will be spending at least some time in Stormreach. My brother should be easy to find. He is staying at the ..." He pauses to open a pouch and pull out a letter, which he scans and says, "...Bloody Giant inn. Helkatash says that it is popular for adventurers and easy to find, so hopefully you should be able to."

Gareth replies, "I have no problem delivering these items to your brother, but I must reemphasize, we are employed by someone for this trip and if this will cause any delay it could very well take a back seat to our previous obligations. If Helkatash is not at the inn, is there a contingency place we can leave the items? If you are all right with this we are leaving on the 16th. You can drop the items off on that day, or the night before." 

Hamatash smiles, though it looks slightly forced, and says, "There is no need to apologize. You do not know me and I am sure adventurers have enough reasons to be careful. Especially those like you who are engaged in quite risky affairs, as I read in the Korranberg Chronicle. But, to answer your question, I am quite sure that Helkatash will be there. He is staying there while making plans and expecting the money and things from me. Still, on the off chance you do not find him there, you can leave them with the branch of the Kundarak Bank in Stormreach. I believe he has an account there."

He looks around at the group. "So you would prefer me to give you the items just before you leave? I had brought them along," he says, indicating a satchel at his side, "To show them to you and hand them over if you agreed, since I thought you might want to use them as partial payment. Also, I was hoping that we could have a signed contract for this agreement." He smiles and quickly adds, "After all, I do not know you either - though I have got very good references. And while adventurers such as yourself must be quite rich and used to handling very valuable items, these are close to the sum of my available wealth now."

Gareth replies, "We only ask to receive the items before we go so if something happens in the meantime, we do not lose them. Being that we do have a budding reputation here, we also have enemies. Let me see this contract to make sure it is within reasonable terms."

Hamatash says, "Very well - if you think that is the best thing. As for a contract, here is what I came up with." He puts the satchel on the table and opens it, taking out a large package, a scroll and a folded sheet of paper. Opening the sheet of paper, he shows it to the group. It says that the signees (there is space for a number of names) are entering into a contract with Hamatash to deliver the following set of items to Helkatash in Stormreach. In return, they are accepting a payment of ... (this space is empty). The list of items is as follows: a Ring of Protection of the 3rd power, two Amulets of Natural Armor of the 3rd power, two Vests of Resistance of the 4th power, and a letter of credit drawn on Kundarak Bank for 2,000 galifars. 

While the others are passing around the contract, he opens the scroll and shows it to be the letter of credit mentioned in the list, which is made out to Hamatash and Helkatash. Then he opens the package to reveal the magical items. While doing so, he says, "My brother wanted the best protective items we could afford. He is setting up an expedition which he says will return our investment threefold." He smiles, looking slightly worried, and says, "I sincerely hope he is right, since we had to take out very significant loans for this." The contract looks quite well designed and is the kind that House Sivis and House Kundarak work together to produce. The magical items are artistically constructed, with small Siberys shards embedded in them.

After having examined the contract to see that there are no obvious loopholes or problems, Gareth says, "Please seal your items in a container that will bear your personal seal. We will keep the items in there and your brother will receive the package knowing that it has not been opened. As for the price, what did you have in mind?"

Hamatash replies, sounding a little unsure, "Well, I can offer only five hundred galifars, which is why I suggested that you could make temporary use of the items to make up the rest. I was told that sometimes adventurers accept temporary use of magic items as payment from patrons. I thought you might find them useful here and on the way, since I am told that the sea voyage can be dangerous." He scratches his chin and says, "If you would prefer not to use them and want more payment, I can probably find another five hundred galifars for you." 

After a little discussion, the Angels agree to the proposition. Hamatash smiles, looking and sounding relieved. "Thank you all very much. This has been a concern for me. For the money I could have had the items transported as cargo on a ship, but I would not feel safe about such valuables being transported without personal carriers, even on a Lyrandar ship." He produces a bag of coins from the satchel and places it on the table. "Here are the five hundred galifars."

Hamatash then has them sign the contract and its copy, and does so himself. He leaves the copy with them and takes his leave, saying, "Thank you again. Please tell Helkatash to send me a message via the Sivis station once he receives the items and credit note from you. I will come by again on the 15th evening or early on the 16th to make sure that everything is all right."

A little while after Hamatash leaves, while they are still discussing the various items and who should be using what, they are disturbed by another visitor. One of the acolytes brings in a well-dressed man who says he has come to meet the Guardian Angels. Although they've never seen him before, the blue stone in the ring on his finger identifies Flan immediately.

Once the acolyte has left and Flan is seated, he says companionably, "I hear you've been keeping busy, and I see that you've got the sword back, Gareth. Killian sent me to ask if you'd be free to meet with him this evening. Or maybe tomorrow, if you're not free today." He spreads his hands and adds, "And before you ask, I don't know why he wants to meet you." He grins and adds, "Maybe he just wants to say goodbye before you're off to Xen'drik." 

Despite his distaste at seeing Flan in the Cathedral, Gareth says, "We can see Killian."

"Excellent," says Flan. "I will let Killian know. Let's say 8 o'clock?" He looks around the group and says, "So where's your mage friend Nameless? And I see you've picked up a new member. A flying, flaming one to boot!" 

Zeke, to whom the last comment clearly refers, fixes the changeling with his beady flaming eyes and says with some excitement, "Me not like!", before zooming towards Flan suddenly and yelling "BURN!!" As Flan gives a startled yell and almost topples over in his seat, Zeke laughs and zooms upwards, coming to a stop some feet above Flan. Looking at Gareth, he asks hopefully, "Burn him, boss?"

Luna laughs at the little exchange, and Gareth, suppressing a smile, says, "No, Zeke. We don't need to burn Flan. Come on over here." He gives Zeke a piece of food and pats him on the head, adding "But you are learning well." Looking at Flan, he says, "Nameless is doing some errands but is around."

Flan recovers his composure but throws Zeke a dirty look, before continuing, "Doing errands? I'd gathered that Nameless wasn't staying with the rest of you any more. Or am I wrong? If I am, that's good for me, since I won't have to send him a message to come join the rest of you when you meet Killian."

"You make it sound like Nameless decided to leave us permanently." Gareth thinks for a moment, and says, "Feel free to contact him on your own. That would save us time trekking to him. I cannot guarantee that he will show up, however, since he is busy doing his wizardly things." He stands up to indicate that the meeting is over. "If we are finished, Flan, we have our own things to tend to."

Flan shrugs and rises to his feet. "Yeah, we're done. I'll see that Killian gets the message and I'll let Nameless know too. Best of luck, just in case I don't see you again before you leave for Xen'drik." 

After Flan leaves, Gareth says, "I guess that was slightly less cordial then what he was accustomed to." Picking up Kizmet, he adds, "Kizmet and myself need to go pray. If you need anything you can find me in the chapel." *(End of email section)*

Corven stops him and reminds the paladin that he needs to accompany Corven to the Esoteric Order, so that they can work on the magical cloak he wanted. After a quick breakfast, the two leave, and spend their time till the evening working on the cloak. Or rather, the homunculus works on the cloak, while Corven begins constructing an item to help him use more of his infusions each day. While the two are off crafting, Luna and Six spend their time relaxing and then wandering around town.

Nameless, meanwhile, is disturbed early in the morning by one of the young apprentices who works at the Guild. He comes to Nameless and says. "Excuse me, master Nameless," he says, "But there is a man here to see you. Looks like a merchant." Nameless asks the apprentice if the merchant is one of the Kalashtar, but is told that he's human. 

Nameless sends back a reply that he is unavailable. The apprentice returns a few minutes later with a note, and says, "The man said that he understands and asked for a sheet of paper. He left this note for you and left." The note says, 'Dear Nameless - Your companions will be meeting with Killian this evening at 8, at the usual location. Killian would appreciate the pleasure of your company too. F.' 

Nameless promptly decides to ignore the invitation, not being in the mood for playing games with Killian. He spends the rest of the day working on crafting more scrolls and further arcane study.

In the evening, the other Angels head down to Firelight to meet Killian. They find him at his usual table and are greeted with the usual joviality. He compliments Gareth on having his sword back and apologizes for being unable to find it for him. He brings up the fact that the Angels' attack on the Daask payroll seems to have precipitated a gang war. Killian also apparently knows about the Angels' upcoming departure, and asks about the expedition. Though Gareth tells him when they are leaving and how long they expect to be gone, the paladin fobs off more questions by saying that they don't have permission from their employer to discuss it. Killian then asks if they are interested in a job, but when Gareth starts saying that it's only possible if it occurs before they leave, Six quickly inserts a clear "NO!", a sentiment echoed by Luna and Corven. Killian then asks about the possibility of investing in the expedition, and is just as quickly refused.

Seeing that the Angels are not really interested in prolonging the conversation, Killian then asks if they have met Kylyman since he was at the casino, and when told that they have not, then wishes them the best of luck and takes his leave of them. The Angels quickly depart.

When they have traveled back to Central Plateau and are near the Cathedral, Luna and Six notice half a dozen children following them at a distance. Six quickly alerts the others that they are "being followed by a small band of small rogues." He then turns and indicates to the children (who try to hide in an alley at being spotted) that they should approach, which they do. One of them excitedly asks if they are speaking to the Guardian Angels, and some questioning soon elicits the information that they are classmates of Bodo's and he charged them 2 copper crowns each to tell them of a place where they could see the Angels and follow them (apparently in hopes of seeing them get in a fight). Luna and Six find Bodo's 'enterprise' amusing, but Gareth sends the children away, his attempt to give them a short speech on the importance of studying serving to make them hurry away.

Back at the Cathedral, Gareth corners Bodo before they bed down for the night and makes him promise not to repeat the action. Bodo reluctantly agrees, with the expression on his face indicating that he might have to be returning some money the next day.

***
The next day, the 14th, Dala stops by in the morning to tell the Angels that the expedition will be leaving as planned, early on the 16th. They should reach Grayflood at or by 8 am, where they will find the Lyrandar sailing ship Wave's Bounty at dock 3. She also gives them an advance of 1,000 galifars each, so that they can buy any equipment that they need before they leave.

After she takes her leave, the adventurers spend the day much as they had the one before. That night, while they are sleeping, Gareth, Luna and Corven have exactly the same dream. They find themselves standing in a meadow, with Nameless and Six, which is surrounded by a high wall of mist. As they are examining their surroundings, four strange creatures appear around them. They have headless torsos covered with eyes and twitching limbs. Two massive arms protrude from the torso, each tipped with a powerful pincer. The body is covered with black chitin, and the serpentine tail has a large stinger at the top.

The creatures, which Gareth and Nameless identify as one of the quori, the creatures that rule Dal Quor, the plane of dreams, promptly attack the group. The battle is an extensive one, since two more quori join the fight once a couple are cut down. Gareth, after doing substantial damage to one, is cut down (but remains aware of everything going on, since it is a dream), but his allies manage to defeat them, aided by the appearance of Havakhad and Selkatari. The two kalashtar join the battle, Havakhad using psionic abilities to damage the quori, while Selkatari uses her martial prowess.

Once the quori are dead, the Angels find themselves and their surroundings fading away, but not before Havakhad can tell them, "Come speak to me at the Shrine of Il'Yannah in Overlook tomorrow as early as you can. Ask for me - Havakhad. Prepare your spells and weapons. But tell nobody else. There is great danger."

The three then awake simultaneously. Then, since it is the middle of the night, they all roll over and go back to sleep.

***
The next morning, they discuss the dream and discover they all shared it, down to the last detail. Six, since he cannot sleep or dream, obviously did not experience it, and is interested to know that he was in the dream. When told that in the dream he couldn't trip a single enemy until his sixth try*, he opines that it must have been since it wasn't him.

After preparing themselves, the curious adventurers travel to the Overlook district, which they find to contain a substantial kalashtar population. The first person Gareth asks is able to direct them to the Shrine of Il'Yannah (a name Gareth recognizes as the name of the formless universal force the Kalashtar revere). The building is at the top of its own tower and a pair of unarmed kalashtar stand as sentries outside it. When told by Gareth that Havakhad is expecting them, they look surprised but lead the group in.

After passing meditation rooms and small classrooms, all set up in the Riedran style and decorated with the crystals they tend to use, the group is led into a larger meditation chamber, where Havakhad and Selkatari are talking. The old man seems first surprised and then pleased to see them, and says that though he did not expect them now, he was expecting to see them sometime. He thanks the guards and tells them they can leave. Selkatari too does so, though she throws the group a suspicious look on the way.

The Angels begin to talk to Havakhad and quickly learn a few things. He knows Nameless, has been trying to divine information about them, and has absolutely no knowledge of this dream and the message he supposedly gave them. Havakhad is especially interested in the appearance of quori in their dreams and begins to ask about it. As he is doing so, each of the four Angels present feels a huge pressure inside their individual heads, almost as if one's brain was being squeezed by a strong fist. Gareth manages to shake off the feeling, though it leaves him momentarily disoriented. Corven, Six and Luna, however, feel their consciousness being shoved away by a malign force that takes control of their bodies. Watching helplessly through their own eyes, they are only aware of intense hate towards Havakhad and a sense of satisfaction at having seized their body.

Gareth, having seen the others totter momentarily in place as he did, begins to ask what is going on. But as he does so, Corven (or so it seems to him) draws his wand and triggers it, striking Havakhad full in the chest with a scorching ray. As the old sage shouts in pain and staggers backwards, his wound closes up**, but he has no time to recover. Six strikes out with his spiked chain, tripping him and knocking him to the floor, where the warforged strikes him heavily in the head. Luna changes shape into a dire badger and moves forward to attack too.

While a confused Gareth calls to his allies to stop (and quickly tells an also-confused Zeke not to attack anyone), Havakhad shouts, "They are possessed by quori. You must fight it!" Trying to avoid Six's blows and Luna's claws, he manages to manifest a couple of powers (accompanied by unusual noises and lights) that heal him again and protect him from their blows.

Gareth calls upon his powers as an exorcist to momentarily stun Six (who drops his chain) and Luna, but is then wounded badly by Corven's wand. Zeke, trying to protect Gareth, responds by shooting Corven - or his body - with a scorching ray as well. Luckily for Gareth and Havakhad, the door flies open at this moment and Nameless hurries through, followed by the two kalashtar guards. While the guards rush to Havakhad's aid, Nameless (to whom Gareth yells a warning of the others' situation) casts a spell to web his possessed allies.

While the web hinders Six, it doesn't do so for Corven, who uses the wand to wound Gareth again. The badly shaken paladin tries again to affect the quori and fails. Havakhad, who actually apologizes before using a psionic blast to try to stun the three, also fails to affect Six or Luna***, but stuns Corven (and an unfortunate Zeke, who dangles in the web). Luna promptly uses one of her newly gained spells to flame strike not only Havakhad and the two kalashtar, but herself and Six too, burning away part of the web and freeing them. Six, pulling out his second spiked chain, wounds Havakhad (who has barely been healing himself before being wounded every time****) again.

Nameless manages to web the three again, just as Gareth succeeds in another attempt to stun the creatures. Only Six remains unaffected, but Havakhad (whom his badly burned guards have literally dragged away) apologizes again and uses another power, which attacks Six's body and the possessing quori's psyche and renders him instantly unconscious, deep wounds covering his metallic head.

Nameless, Gareth and Havakhad quickly secure the three unconscious Angels and the latter two manage to drive the possessing spirits from their bodies. Once they are revived, Six, Luna and Corven are all fine, except for having a lot of questions about what just happened. Havakhad is especially puzzled since, as he explains, quori are incapable of possessing any species besides human beings, and even humans must be willing hosts.  After some questions and examination of the group, Havakhad determines that the items that the group received from Hamatash were used to house the quori. He examines them and concludes that the Siberys crystals they were set with were psionically treated to allow the quori to possess the bearers, whether they were unwilling or nonhuman. 

By this point, Selkatari has been warned and returned to join the gathering, and Havakhad has to quickly reassure her that he is fine and that the Angels mean him no harm, to stop her instantly attacking them. She seems just as surprised as Havakhad at the news of the possession and the items. Havakhad tells her that this may be a job for the atavists, to which she agrees. To the Angels, Havakhad explains that the kalashtar have opposed the quori for over a millennium, and this is the first time the quori have exhibited such powers. To their disappointment, he also explains that the magic items were not truly magical. Quori, and certain other creatures, can possess an item and manifest a certain degree of magic power through them, making the item function as a magical one while they possess it. With the quori now gone, the items are non-magical, though they possess psionic qualities that he needs to study to learn more about exactly what happened.

Havakhad invites the Angels to join him for lunch, over which he tells them more about the quori and about what they have encountered. He explains that with Dal Quor having been sundered from Eberron millennia ago by the giant civilization of Xen'drik, people can only visit Dal Quor in their dreams and the quori can only reach Eberron through people who are willing to let quori possess them. The quori dwell in the heart of Dal Quor, and when people sleep (which is why elves, warforged, and other creatures that never sleep never touch Dal Quor), they create little dreamscapes at the edges of the plane. 

Nameless theorizes at this point that his earlier dreams about Selkatari may have been created by the quori, and Havakhad agrees. He says that evidently the quori had become aware of Nameless and the other Angels at an earlier time and decided to use them as tools against Havakhad. The dreams were a way to make them contact him. He explains that the building is warded against intrusion by quori and their Riedran supporters, but since the quori were hidden in the bodies of the Angels, they could pass through the wards. Havakhad says that even though there are thousands of quori and time flows ten times as fast on Dal Quor, finding the dreams of a particular dreamer is difficult, which is why Nameless only had the two dreams in a period of two months. The items from Hamatash made it easy for the possessing quori to locate and affect the dreams of the three Angels, which is why Nameless never had any. 

Gareth asks Havakhad why the quori wanted him dead and he explains that as the most powerful psion in Sharn, he keeps the kalashtar community there (which may be the largest in Khorvaire) in communication with others around the continent. Killing him would cut off this connection and make them much easier to eliminate. Nameless suggests that this may also mean such attacks will occur elsewhere and Havakhad says that he plans to contact his allies across the continent soon. He seems calm but concerned about this new development, saying that this may significantly shift the balance of power in the kalashtar war against the quori. When Gareth says that the Angels need to find Hamatash and give him his comeuppance, Havakhad asks them not to do so, saying that this is between his people and the Riedrans. The Angels agree and give Havakhad the banknote and the contract Hamatash gave them, in case they help him locate the man. 

Nameless also mentions that the reason he was so fortuitously there was because he received a message that morning. One of the Guild apprentices brought him a note that said, "Your comrades are in great danger. You will find them at Havakhad's. Go there immediately, if you wish to save them and yourself. Be prepared for battle." The apprentice said only that it was left by a nondescript, clean-shaven middle-aged man, whom he hasn't seen before. Obviously someone knew about this attack. Havakhad has no idea who that could be, but says he will look into it. 

The Angels then take their leave, with Havakhad telling them that their involvement in this affair may not be completely coincidental. He asks them to contact him when they return to Sharn, and they say they will do so.

For the remainder of the day, the group makes their last preparations before leaving. Corven purchases two portable artificer's labs from the Esoteric Order so that he and his new homunculus can spend some time crafting items on the ship. Nameless heads back to the Guild to do so. Gareth visits the Deneith enclave and learns Lalia has returned, and joins her for dinner.

***
The next morning, the Angels find copies of the Korranberg Chronicle and the Sharn Inquisitive left for them at the Cathedral. The former has an article about Zokar and the attacks on Cyrans, written by Flim. It follows what the Angels told him quite closely, down to praising the Cyran embassy for their aid in the matter. The Inquisitive article, however, is not as complimentary. Without ever explicitly saying so, it very strongly implies that Cyran practitioners of dark magic were killing non-Cyrans, and ends the article with a rant about the Brelish policy of giving refuge to the Cyrans.

After reading the papers and having a quick breakfast, the Angels head down to Grayflood and the docks. They find a lot of bustle there already, ships that came in during the night being unloaded, and others preparing to leave. The group passes by a Lyrandar wind galleon in a special dock designed to hold the giant tower at its rear that holds the air elemental propulsion system. Nearby, they find the Wave's Bounty, a trim sailing ship flying Lyrandar colors. Crates are stacked on the quayside nearby, being carried on as they arrive. 

The group finds Dala sitting on a low crate, wearing one of her omnipresent hats and making some notes on a pad. She greets them and seems quite excited about the upcoming voyage. The group is joined within moments of arrival by Nameless and they head onto the ship with Dala. 

Heading up the gangplank, they find a tall half-elven woman and a changeling in his natural form giving orders to the sailors. The changeling, who introduces himself as Bly, shows them to their cabins. Six gets a workroom to himself, which Corven's homunculus and portable artificer labs also end up in. Nameless also ends up in his own room, while Corven and Gareth share one (with Zeke having a nook to himself), and Luna gets a room with Dala. There are four more people from Sharn who will be on the expedition, who get their own two rooms.

A little over an hour after they get on board, the ship embarks. The Angels are on deck to see the departure, and they notice that as the captain (the half-elven woman) takes the helm, an area of gusty wind appears around the ship, propelling it in the direction that she wants. As they pull away into the Dagger River, Six (who has dressed like a sailor) jokes that they might be able to see Bodo throwing his books off the dock. The ship moves out gradually into the Hilt, the area where the Dagger River ends before opening out into the Straits of Shargon.

Passing by the fortresses that guard the entrance to the Hilt, Wave's Bounty emerges into the Straits and then gradually, but quickly, comes to a halt. Moments after it does so, a number of sahuagin heads pop out of the water around it. The captain and Bly go to the bow, where a pair of soldiers throw a rope overboard, allowing two sahuagin to climb to the deck. After they speak for a couple of minutes, the captain hands over a small bag and the sahuagin jump overboard. While returning to the helm, she comments to those gathered that these are friendly sahuagin whom she gets information from. They said that the local tribes are generally peaceful right now and there should be no trouble - or at least not in the first few days of the voyage. She also mentions that they said something is wrong in the area with the fish, since there are much fewer than should be, but that isn't something that involves her.

She takes the helm again and the ship moves on, heading southwest into the Straits of Shargon, where it proceeds for the rest of the day. In the evening, the Angels receive an invitation from the captain to the common dining room. Once there, they find themselves joined by all the passengers on the ship, which consists of a dozen people besides those involved with their expedition. A few crewmembers are also present, as are two of the six warriors the ship carries for security. They are soon joined by the captain, Bly and a cloaked and hooded figure, who go to the head table. Gareth scans the room while they do so, discovering that two of the other passengers, as well as a couple of the crew, have a faint aura of evil.

The captain addresses the room, introducing herself as Syrina d'Lyrandar. She welcomes them abroad and introduces them to her First Mate Bly and the hooded figure, who she says is the ship's mage, Daelan. The figure raises his head, revealing himself to be an elf. He also looks as if he is dead, apparently mummified skin stretched tight across his skull, and his voice rasps eerily as he puts in only, "Artificer." Gareth and Nameless identify him as one of the Aereni elves who not only worship their ancestors but aspire to resemble the undead in appearance. From the reactions, some of their fellow passengers are not as unperturbed by Daelan's appearance.

Syrina goes on to warn the passengers that a trip to Xen'drik is not a joy ride. While she hopes that it passes without incident, it quite likely will not do so, and if there is trouble, she can't afford to have passengers be a hindrance to her and her crew. As she explains, if she isn't present then Bly is in charge, and if he isn't, then any crewmember who's present is. 

After that bit of sternness, she smiles at the assembled group and says that she hopes the voyage will be pleasant enough to belie her warning, wishes them an enjoyable dinner and takes her leave. Daelan departs too, but Bly remains behind for a while, to regale those who remain with some very good music from the harp he always seems to carry. 

* Five rounds for Six consisted of the same thing - a failure to trip and success at the counter-trip
** Psionic Contingency
*** Not only did Six and Luna make some really good saves during this fight, but they rolled the same number to save four times in a row. 
**** As a 12th lvl psion with all of 37 hit pts, almost every hit took him below 50% hp instantly.


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar:

Session 18 - December 31, 2005

Waking up the next morning, I went to the Cathedral – pre-dawn – and began my prayers to the Silver Flame.  I have to admit, staying in the Cathedral is very nice.  I am able to pray with other members of the Flame, and even have a chance to speak with the Archierophant when she is not busy.

After prayers are finished, Narik stopped by and introduced us to a merchant by the name of Hamatash.  Hamatash is a Riedran merchant who needs some powerful magic items delivered to his brother in Xen’drik.  I inform Hamatash that we are employed by someone and this might present some conflict.  After a lengthy discussion Hamatash’s plan – to have us deliver the goods to his brother in Stormreach – sounds as if it will cause little to no inconvenience to our employer.  Hamatash also suggests that we utilize the equipment ourselves, and although I am reluctant at first, he persists and we finally agree.  Hamatash did not radiate evil, and he sounded sincere, and while this is not always accurate – it is better then nothing.  Hamatash also pays us 500 galifars, each.  I think this is a very fair amount considering the mission is very simple.

We start discussing on who could best use what items, and I lay claim to an amulet of natural armor.  The other items would not work with the magics I can cast.  Then  Flan comes into the Cathedral to meet us.  I am not happy to see him, especially not in this holy place, but I greet him.  He asks us to meet with Killian and we agree.  Then Flan makes a mistake of mocking Zeke, and I swear Zeke sensed my dislike for Flan.  Zeke yells “BURN!” and flies toward Flan.  He does not burn him, but turns to me and asks if he should burn him.  I suppress a chuckle and tell him not to burn Flan.  I then give Zeke some food and a pat on the head.  I have to note, Zeke is as unlikely a companion as I would ever expect, but he is amusing, and darn useful.  Flan then asks us about Nameless, implying that Nameless is not longer with the group.  I inform him otherwise, though truth be told I am not quite sure what Nameless’ intentions are – though I am still upset that he left us in the middle of battle.  After Flan leaves, I head to the Cathedral to pray a while longer, but I am stopped by Corven who needs me to go with him to the Esoteric Order to work on the cloak of charisma I would like to have.  I work with the homunculus Corven created while Corven works on creating another item.

After a long day of work, we head back to the Cathedral, where I take in some early evening prayers and then Corven gets me as we go to Firelight, to meet Killian.  Killian, in his usual manner, talks to us about things – taking a jibe here and there when he can.  He asks us of our plans in Xen’Drik and I inform him that we cannot discuss it as it is someone else's expedition.  Killian offers us a job and I let him know that as long as it is not very intensive we would consider it.  Six jumps in with a loud “No” and Luna and Corven agree.  Killian persists with other offers, but the group refuses him, which is fine by me.  On a side note: the group is totally discounting Killian, and while I do not trust him – just as much as the group – he has yet to be proven to do anything wrong against us.  Being sleazy is a lot different from being a criminal.   Maybe, one day, we can dispel the magic in the room and see if Killian has any protections – that say protect his alignment from detection.

We walk back home and are accosted by several children, who were sent by Bodo.  Bodo, apparently charged them money for our location.  I try and use this time to educate the children a bit, emphasizing that good grades in school will allow them to become adventurers.  They quickly run off.  Bodo will need a strict talking to.  We head off to sleep.

The next day we wake up in the morning and Dala comes by the cathedral to give us some more information about the trip to Xen’drik.  She pays us 1000 gold so we can buy more supplies.  We spend the rest of the day doing various tasks, but nothing exciting happens.  Bodo is still attending classes, and I am working on the new cloak.  Zeke is floating around me all the time, and he makes things more amusing.

In the middle of the night, I had a strange dream.  I was standing in a meadow with the entire group, minus Zeke.  Four creatures – which I was able to guess as Dal Quor – creatures of dreams – arrived and began to attack us.  We started fighting them, as more appeared.  After a few seconds, I am ganged up on by two of these Dol Quor and taken down.  Then, more Dal Quor appear, and two other people appear.  They help us defeat the Dal Quor and inform us to meet them at the Shrine of Il’Yannah the next day.

I wake up in the middle of the night, with the rest of the group.  We all had the same dream.  Seeing that it is three in the morning, we all head back to sleep and will discuss the issue later.  In the morning we discuss the dream, though Six says he had no such dream.  That would make sense, since Six does not sleep and thusly cannot dream.  We head to the Shrine to speak with Havakhad.  We arrive and Havakhad is surprised to see us.  Havakhad dismisses his guards, and close companion – Selkatari – who does not seem happy about leaving Havakhad alone here with us.

I start to speak with Havakhad explaining what happened, but he is not aware of any such dream.  All of a sudden, a strange feeling enters my head – almost as if something is trying to squeeze my brain…it is a brief pain, but a minor distraction – all of a sudden I see the rest of the group act weird, and they follow up with an attack at Havakhad.  I quickly yell to the group to stop, and I tell Zeke to not attack anyone.  Havakhad yells they are possessed by the Quori.  I immediately summon the powers of the Silver Flame and stun Six and Luna in their tracks.  Unfortunately, for these Quori, they did not realize I am an Exorcist of the Silver Flame.  Corven then shoots me with his wand of scorching ray.  Zeke follows up by blasting Corven.  I stagger for a bit, and Nameless enters the area with two guards.  The guards rush in to help Havakhad, and Nameless casts a web on the rest of the group.  Corven, again, blasts me with his wand and I attempt to stun the group again – but due to the pains of the fire, I fail to do so.  Luna, then casts a powerful flame strike spell and hits herself, Havakhad, and Six.  This melts the web, but then Nameless casts another web spell as I manage to stun the group again.  Havakhad then uses some power and draws deep wounds into Six, knocking him unconscious – such raw power…it seems almost impossible, and he did nothing.

After this happens, I realize that I can suppress the possession by casting a Magic Circle Against Evil – and I do such, walking in between the group and giving them a chance to be free of these Quori.  I then perform my exorcist rituals and remove the Quori – which causes immense amount of pain to my comrades.

Once the group is free of their possession, we speak with Havakhad who is confused why a Quori can possess a humanoid who is not willing.  Havakhad realizes it is the magical items we received from Hamatash.  These items were created, in an attempt to possess us so we could kill Havakhad.  We speak with Havakhad for a while and learn a lot about the Dal Quor and how Havakhad and those of his order have been fighting them for a long time.  Havakhad, apparently, is a powerful psionicist.  I have vaguely heard of them, only knowing people with this gift can manifest powers using their minds – similar in many ways to magic, but completely different.  We give, the now spent magic items, to Havakhad who says he will study them.  We find out that Nameless knew to show up to the Shrine because he received a note from some stranger (which Nameless did not meet) that we would be in danger.  Interestingly enough, the language in the note sounds very close the language “Havakhad” used in the dream.  Also, Havakhad asks us to not go looking for Hamatask that he will deal with this.  I find this strange – I would think Havakhad would want as much help as possible.

We promise him that we will stop by when we return from Xen’drik and then leave.  After the meeting I head to the Deneith enclave to see Lalia.

As I get to the enclave, the person at the desk recognizes me and just sends me up without confirming with Lalia.  I find this amusing…I wonder what would happen if Lord Sadran see’s me strolling on my own in the enclave…while I am of Deneith blood, I am more of an outsider then anything else.  I walk up to Lalia’s office, and see her working.  Her feet are kicked up on her desk, reading some papers.  Lalia looks beautiful and every time I see her I cannot help but smile.  I lightly knock on the door and she jumps up in surprise, but then once she realizes it is me she smiles.  Lalia tells me she was planning on stopping by the Cathedral later, to pay me a visit.  We talk for a little bit about the past few days and she shows concern and offers some sage wisdom.  I then ask her if she would like to go out to dinner and she agrees.  We go to a nice little restaurant where we eat and talk about various topics, and this eventually leads to her asking me about joining House Deneith.  She made a few very valid points: My father, Byron was a member of the house and still managed to keep to his paladin vows.  The house also understands of peoples personal obligations and I would not be forced to take on any assignments.  Lalia suggests that I could, and probably should, start with the Blademarks and maybe one day become a Sentinel Marshall.  I agree to her suggestion and Lalia tells me she will inquire about what I need to do – plus to gauge people’s reactions to me joining.  Luckily, I will not have to go through basic training.  As I walk Lalia back home, I hand her my signet ring and ask her to hold onto this for me – while I am away.  She smiles and takes it and then kisses me.  I walk back to the Cathedral, humming to myself, happy – which is not something I have been able to feel in quite a few months.

The following day, we wake up to have a copy of the Korranberg Chronicle and Sharn Inquisitive left for us at the Cathedral.  They both speak about the Zokar incident, but the Sharn Inquisitive is very bent in its interpretation of the story.  While the Inquisitive is flashier, the Chronicle has the benefit of our first-hand account.  I have to say, Flim has kept his word and I do not mind helping him out.

We finish breakfast, and then head down to the docks.  I instruct Bodo to behave himself, and ask one of the acolytes to keep an extra eye on him.  Zeke comes with us – as I do not think the Cathedral would let us leave him there – plus Zeke is good to have along.  Once on the ship, we are assigned rooms – Corven, Zeke and myself share a room.  We are then given instructions by the captain of the ship and set sail on our voyage.  This is the second time we have left Sharn since we arrived, and I do look forward to the change of pace.  I believe, if it is possible at all, to see a look of relief on the face of Six as we leave our problems – real and imagined – back in Sharn.


----------



## shilsen

*Session 19 - Tentacles and Trolls*

The first two days of the voyage are uneventful. Corven and Gareth spend a lot of their time working on more magical items, with Luna helping some of the time, when she isn't busy turning into a bird and flying around the ship. Six spends some time getting to know the other passengers, especially the four people who are part of the expedition. These consist of Collus, a professor on sabbatical from Morgrave University who is an expert on ancient languages and the history of Xen'drik, his student and scribe Maura, the gnome cartographer Niff, and the dwarf Imre, an expert on precious gems and historical artifacts. Nameless spends some time talking to the Aereni Daelan, learning that he left Aerenal decades ago to see something of the world beyond, has been Syrina's shipboard artificer for three years, and is even less adept at social intercourse than the worst of the Angels. All of the Angels get to spend some time with Dala, who seems singularly excited about being on the way to Xen'drik and about the expedition in general.

As for the crew of the Wave's Bounty, the Angels soon know them fairly well. Syrina interacts a bit with the passengers, or at least those who are near her when at the wheel, a position she seems to be at whenever awake (since without her the ship loses its following wind and travels at a significantly reduced speed). She is happy to answer questions and says that she has been sailing for six years and between Sharn and Xen'drik for three. Her first mate Bly is very friendly, interacting often with the passengers and regularly providing music of varied kinds on his harp. Daelan, on the other hand, never speaks to passengers unless spoken to, and almost nobody besides Nameless does. He appears on the deck only rarely, and when he does, stands in an unoccupied part of the deck for a little while, gazing out at the ocean. Some of the six shipboard warriors are always present, since they have three shifts of eight hours each that two are on duty. The crew of thirty usually has at least six on duty at any given time. With all of these people and the other passengers, the Angels always seem to have a number of people around. 

Early on the evening of the 18th, the lookout says that there are the lights of a ship in the distance, moving very fast and about to pass a few miles to starboard. Syrina says that it is probably a Lyrandar win galleon, but asks everyone to be ready for an attack, just in case. While the marines take up positions, with a couple manning the ship's two light ballistas, she comments that a few Lyrandar wind galleons have been stolen and used for piracy, but it is rare enough to make it unlikely to be the case here. 

The lookout soon confirms that the lights are that of a wind galleon, which changes tack to come closer to the Wave's Bounty. It eventually pulls up nearby and both ships stop to exchange news. The captain of the wind galleon says that they left Stormreach two days ago. He also says that they expected to pass a smaller cargo ship (the Merry Celestial*) out of Stormreach that left five days ago, but never saw it on the way. There was bad weather near Stormreach recently, so that may have had something to do with it, especially since it would have caught the smaller ship when it was passing through Shargon's Teeth. After the wind galleon heads on its way, Bly mentions that Stormreach has a history of bad weather, with a ship lost every couple of months or so. The fact that the route to/from Stormreach leads through the volcanic and dangerous archipalego of Shargon's Teeth adds to the danger.

***
The voyage continues without trouble for another day and a half. Six, Nameless and Luna are on the deck after the noon meal on the 20th, along with a couple of the passengers. Suddenly, the ship lurches as if it hit a large, solid object, which is followed by the sound of rending timber on the starboard side. One of the passengers, who is on the starboard side, looks overboard and screams, a moment before a tentacle the size of his waist rises over the side and encircles him, plucking him into the air. 

"Damn!" shouts Syrina, "Kraken!", even as a couple more tentacles rise over the side and grab onto the gunwales. The ship rocks slightly, the starboard side sinking a few inches below the port side, to reveal the huge bulk of a giant squid next to the ship, a pair of its tentacles buried within the sides of the Wave's Bounty. 

While Dala and the other passengers scream and run for the port side, the three adventurers all take prompt action. Nameless immediately summons a pair of pseudonatural crocodiles into the water besides the kraken, which attack it with powerful tail slaps, though they seem to bother it very little. Luna begins to cast a summoning of her own, while Six sends an arrow into the creature. One of the two marines begins shooting too, while the other tries to wrestle a ballista into position to shoot down at the creature. Bly begins to chant a song that gives magical strength to those who hear.

Below-decks, Gareth and Corven have just risen to take a break from their crafting and stretch their legs, when they are rocked by the impact and hear the screaming. Gareth rushes out to fling open a door across the passage and hurry into the room of a screaming passenger. For once, the screaming isn't because of the armed and armored paladin bursting into the room, but because of the kraken that he can see outside the porthole. Catching a glimpse of it over Gareth's shoulder, Corven rushes for the stairs that lead to the deck. Zeke, who has been keeping the two company, flies out the porthole of the room they were in (on the port side) and up to the deck above.

The kraken is evidently smart enough to know who the dangers are, since it lashes out at the three adventurers, their movement to be able to see it and cast spells or shoot having put them within easy reach. Large arms grab Six and Nameless, squeezing painfully. Luna is even more unfortunate, being grabbed by a much longer arm, that sinks painful barbs into her flesh as it constricts her**. Six barely manages to slip out of the arm grasping him***, but his companions are not as lucky, and he learns that humanoids have their eyeballs bulge when squeezed hard enough. Though Luna is unable to concentrate on her spell and Nameless almost rendered unconscious from the pressure, they are luckier than the marine at the ballista. Even as he is about to fire, the other long arm snaps shut around his head and upper torso, killing him instantly and pulling the corpse overboard. The already grabbed passenger suffers a similar fate, being simply squeezed into two. The last unoccupied arm grabs onto one of the summoned crocodiles, crushing it too.

Luckily, unlike the passenger and marine, the trapped adventurers have magical means of escape. Nameless manages to pronounce the words of a dimension door, disappearing from within the tentacle to reappear above in the crow's nest, further scaring the poor lookout who is crouched down in his perch and apparently not enjoying his bird's-eye view of the action. Luna wildshapes into an eagle, and the sudden reduction in size lets her fly out at the expense of a few feathers. She heads up to join Nameless, wanting to put as much distance between her and the beast as possible. Deciding that being able to fly would be significantly helpful here, Six backs up to the port side and pulls out a potion.

While the other marine (and Gareth, from the porthole) keep shooting with limited effect, Bly rushes across to the already placed ballista and fires it, burying the large dart into the kraken's side. While Nameless' summoned crocodiles do some more damage, Zeke has less effectiveness. He flies across to the starboard side and unleashes a scorching ray. It hits the kraken right in the side with no effect, indicating that it actually has some significant resistance to fire. Zeke's luck is quickly worse, as a tentacle whips up to grab the little mephit. Though his magical nature protects him slightly, he is grievously wounded. 

Now safe and beyond the kraken's reach, Nameless summons another three crocodiles, which swarm around the kraken, inflicting significant damage before it can rip some of them apart. Luna unleashes a flame strike, which does only minimal damage, only the fact that the flame is infused with holiness letting it have any effect at all. Corven, who has just reached the deck, has a similar effect with his wand of scorching ray. He curses and tries to infuse it so as to create other elemental effects. Luckily for him, though he is within range, Nameless' creatures keep the kraken busy, letting it only bat at Bly with a tentacle, which the changeling avoids by falling prone on the deck. 

Zeke, on the other hand, is already within its grasp, and far too weak to be able to break out. Gareth staring out the porthole, sees the mephit whip by. Zeke spots him at the same time and just has time to scream, "Boss! Hel...", before the tentacle tightens, causing him to explode into a splatter of gore. With a shout of anger, Gareth unleashes another shot, but the turmoil in the water makes him miss, his arrow instead hitting one of the mortally wounded crocodiles and dispatching it. Realizing that archery will not help here, he rushes out and heads for the bottom level, hoping to find the tentacles that have punched through the ship's side.

For the next few seconds, the battle continues, with Nameless summoning more crocodiles and Luna doing the same for a large shark. Six, having swigged his potion and flown up to join them, shoots down at the kraken with his bow. Two more of the marines have also emerged to join the remaining one, and one helps Bly use the ballista again, while another also shoots at the creature. Even though the kraken is quickly dispatching Nameless' creatures, the sheer number of attacks begins to overpower even its great vitality, and it evidently decides that it has had enough. It slowly sinks back under the water, even as Nameless hits it with an acid arrow. As a parting gesture, one of the long tentacles lashes out, ripping a marine in half. 

It leaves behind a huge pool of blood in the water, more blood on the deck, and a significantly holed ship. Though the Wave's Bounty is too well made to risk sinking because of the attack, the next couple of hours are spent by the crewmembers repairing the ship. The Angels, meanwhile, tend to their wounds, with Gareth mourning Zeke's death***. 

After having organized the repair parties, Syrina comes to the Angels. She says, "Dala had told me that you were all skilled warriors, but I had not realized how much. Thank you. Without you we'd have been in serious trouble. I've only fought a kraken once before, and that time it took three ships to drive it away. Again, thank you." After that, she leaves to go yell at Daelan, who was apparently meditating so soundly in his cabin that he only made it to the deck as the kraken fled.

After a couple of hours, the ship resumes its voyage.

***
The next day passes peacefully, and on the morning of the 22nd, the lookout warns of Shargon's Teeth ahead. Soon, those on the deck can see a multitude of small islands and rocks that dot the sea ahead. As they approach, they can see that the archipalego stretches away to east and west as far as they can see. Steam hangs above many of them and the area is warmer, indicating the volcanic nature of the place. 

Syrina very carefully guides the Wave's Bounty into it, with Bly standing at the stern to note the shoals and coral reefs that fill the area. After about an hour, she brings the ship to a stop. She tells those assembled that they will wait here for a local sahuagin tribe that she uses as guides. Bly signals the sahuagin by producing a strange-looking shell and blows on it. None appear, however, and gradually three hours pass, with Bly blowing the shell every half an hour or so. Syrina begins to seem a little concerned, saying that this is very unusual, and if they have to proceed through Shargon's Teeth they will do so, though it will be risky.

Nameless suggests that perhaps Luna could take on an aquatic form and guide the ship. Syrina agrees that this would help, but says she would prefer not to risk it if she could, since the dangers of Shargon's Teeth include not just shoals and reefs but also dangerous creatures and the sahuagin tribes that are not as friendly. While they are discussing this, the lookout calls out that there are sahuagin approaching and they see a dozen in the water nearby. They seem very well armed, which Syrina says is unusual. A rope is thrown overboard, which lets two sahuagin climb up to the deck. One is a large warrior with four arms, while the other is a smaller and older-looking one, with charms and knickknacks strung across its chest. They speak to Syrina for some time before jumping overboard, and she returns to let the assembled people know that they will be waiting here for a while. Then she asks the Angels and Dala to join her in her cabin.

Once they are inside, Syrina explains that there is a problem. The sahuagin have recently been attacked by a small group of scrags (or marine trolls), which slew many of their tribe. They want the "surface-folk" to help destroy the trolls, in return for which they will guide the ship. Normally, Syrina says, she would not even consider aiding in such an enterprise, but having seen the adventurers in action, she thinks they are capable of doing so and asks if they will. She offers to provide them with whatever resources she can to help. The sahuagin have said they'll help them breathe and see underwater if needed, and will send a number of warriors with them. Syrina tells Dala that in return she will refund some of the group's fare, if they want. She also mentions that the sahuagin said the scrags are lairing in a nearby ship that sunk in a storm a couple days ago, which may be the Merry Celestial, in which case there would certainly be a reward for information and the return of anything they can find. 

Nameless is the first to agree to help and the others quickly follow suit. Syrina thanks them and goes to fetch Daelan, saying that they have certain magical items on board for emergency situations. She returns soon with the Aereni, and he says that he can cast spells of water breathing on the group, as well as providing them with elixirs of swimming. He says that he could also provide spells to see in the dark, which will help to some degree underwater, but the sahuagin shaman can probably provide better magic in that area. The group discusses the possibilities and Nameless suggests that they wait until the next day, so that they can be as well prepared as possible. Luna agrees, saying that she can then prepare spells that will aid the others better underwater, as does Corven. Syrina admits that she'd have preferred to take care of this as soon as possible, but says that the adventurers should take whatever time they need.

Bly and Syrina let the sahuagin know about the plan and they agree. They leave to head back to their camp, leaving a couple of them behind to warn the ship if the scrags happen to come near it. The rest of the day is spent in making preparations and fending off questions from the other passengers, who have only been told that the adventurers need to help the sahuagin in a certain task. 

***
The next morning, the sahuagin return, and after making some preparations the Angels enter a large boat with Daelan and two sailors, who ferry them to a small island nearby where the sahuagin await. Before they leave, Dala wishes them luck, joking weakly that she'd hate to have to explain to Kidro that they got eaten en route to Xen'drik. Once they reach the sahuagin, the shaman greets them in broken Common and tells them a little about the scrag attack. Apparently six scrags and four sharks attacked their camp. The sahuagin slew one scrag and a shark, but suffered heavy losses. The scrags have arrived in the area very recently and moved into the wreck of the ship the day before. Two sahuagin are keeping watch on them right now.

Having learned that they are now able to breathe underwater, the shaman says that he will provide them with a way to see underwater. He produces a coral bowl, which another sahuagin half-fills with seawater. The shaman breaks off two of the charms he wears and drops them in the bowl, and then begins to chant, rocking back and forth. After a couple of minutes, he takes a deep breath, makes a gurgling sound in his throat, and leans over and spits a huge green wad of saliva into the bowl. The water promptly turns green and the charms dissolve into it. He then hands the bowl to Gareth and says, "Drink - but little!"

With differing expressions of distaste, the Angels do so, discovering that the concoction tastes just about as one would expect sea water laced with sahuagin spit for flavor. The liquid has no evident effect, but the shaman seems satisfied. He suggests they leave, which they do, traveling in the boat with eight sahuagin (two of which can speak poor Common) swimming ahead, sometimes dropping back to give them directions. Luna changes shape into a six foot long shark and does the same.

About forty minutes after leaving the ship, the sahuagin indicate that the adventurers should enter the water. Daelan casts a last couple of infusions to aid them and then he and the sailors head back to the nearest island to wait. The Angels enter the water and find that they are able to see almost as well as in open air, though the clear vision extends only to 120 ft. Gareth and Six, both of whom Luna has used a freedom of movement on, move through the water almost as smoothly as they move on land, while Corven and Nameless swim reasonably well due to the elixirs they drank. The eight sahuagin take up formation around them.

The group soon reaches a low underwater hill, which the sahuagin indicate they should hide behind and look over the crest. Doing so, they see the wreck about 200 ft away, lying near the bottom of a rocky slope that is probably the bottom of one of the small islands. A couple of jagged holes indicate what happened, and in sinking it has split almost in two. At a distance of about 120 ft, a scrag floats in the water, munching on something. A pair of sharks, about the same size as Luna's current form, swim in wide circles around the scrag.

Nameless suggests that a sahuagin show itself as if it had failed to hide, so as to draw the scrag closer. A sahuagin complies and a second later, the scrag gives a bellow and charges forward, the two sharks arrowing in too. Which sets them up perfectly for Nameless. He releases a fireball as precisely as if he'd been casting spells underwater all his life, which catches all three targets in the blast. The sharks succumb to the unexpected attack, both rolling over, and the scrag screams in surprise and pain. Which it gets to do even more shortly, as the sahuagin charge it, along with Six and Gareth (whom Nameless has enlarged so that he is actually taller than the scrag). The sahuagin land some blows with their tridents, but it is Six and Gareth (both of whom have weapons infused by Corven to damage giants like the scrags more easily) who do the most damage. The direly wounded scrag fights back, but it is quickly cut down, allowing the sahuagin to gleefully begin dismembering it. 

While this is happening, more enemies appear, another three scrags and four sharks swimming out of holes in the wreck and heading towards the Angels and sahuagin. The latter quickly move forward to engage them. Nameless and Six now find themselves at a bit of a disadvantage, their limited swimming speed leaving them far behind their allies. Still, it allows them to dispatch the unconscious scrag magically before its regenerative powers can revive it. They then proceed to slowly move towards the others.

Luna and the bulk of the sahuagin engage the sharks, leaving Gareth, Six and two sahuagin to face the scrags. Gareth smites one, ripping it almost in two, while Six does significant damage too. Nameless, from behind them, uses another fireball to wound two of the scrags, before following up with another spell to haste most of his allies. The fireball slays the scrag Gareth wounded, but another one wounds him grievously. The Angels' sahuagin allies also acquit themselves well, having managed to dispatch all the sharks and help wound the scrags, though two of the sahuagin are killed as well. Luna is the only one who has luck not going her way. Trying to use a flame strike on the scrags, she finds the combination of her shark form and the watery conditions too problematic and the spell fizzles. 

Her luck then infects Corven, as two new enemies emerge from the hull. One is a large shark, fully fifteen feet in length, but the other is more singular. This seems to be an old woman, her flesh sickly and yellow, covered with warts and oozing sores. The fact that she's completely naked except for a belt and a couple of straps (as are all the scrags) doesn't add to her attractiveness. Some of the adventurers immediately identify her as a sea hag. One of her magical abilities is immediately made clear, as those seeing her feel a wave of weakness wash over them. All of the adventurers manage to fight it off, except for Corven, who feels his strength drain away until he is unable to move*****. Swearing in frustration, he drifts downwards till he hits the ground some thirty feet below. Three of the sahuagin seem similarly affected, though they remain able to swim, weakly backing away from the fight.

Gareth smites the scrag that wounded him, striking it with a series of blows that leave it almost unconscious. Six takes the opportunity to use his hasted reflexes and slices its throat open with his spiked chain, using the backswing to drop the remaining wounded scrag. 

This leaves only the large shark and the hag, the first of whom zooms forward at great speed. Its jaws slam down on the biggest target, namely Gareth, almost ripping him apart******. The paladin blacks out instantly, missing the next interesting development, which is when the shark drops him and transforms, changing into a large and muscular scrag. 

Alone facing the large scrag, Six swings and wounds it, but quickly discovers that his weapon does less damage than it should. Nameless explains why, shouting from the rear, "It's a lycanthrope - you need silver weapons!" Nameless also summons a pair of large pseudonatural sharks to keep the scrag busy, which immediately rip into it. The two sahuagin unaffected by the hag's appearance also boldly charge in, one having its head ripped off instantly for its pains. Nevertheless, they buy Six enough time to back out of the fight. Remembering the vial of silversheen he found so long ago, he pulls it out and begins to use it on his chain's barbs (which, in these conditions, consists mainly of opening it and hurriedly swinging the chain back and forth in the cloud of silversheen that forms in the water).

The hag is evidently a spellcaster too, since it swims closer and pronounces the words of a hideous laughter spell. Six manages to shake off the effect and continues trying to enhance his weapon. Luna, having just dispatched one of the unconscious scrags permanently with a produce flame (amusingly delivered with the shark's snout), notices that the hag has no enemies and zooms forward. Her teeth slam shut on the hag's arm, causing it to scream in anger. 

Unnoticed on the ground below, Corven painfully uses an infusion of bull's strength to give him the strength to stand, though he still cannot swim, and starts slowly trudging towards the others. Above him, Nameless begins to swim closer to the unconscious Gareth, casting a spell on the way to summon another shark to bother the large scrag. While the scrag continues to shred its multiple enemies, slaying the sahuagin fighting it and going on to wound one of the pseudonatural sharks, the hag uses less physical methods. It gazes deep into Luna's eye, and she feels a strange weakness overtake her. Unable to resist********, she rolls over, floating motionless near it. The hag grins in triumph and swims closer, until another pseudonatural shark appears before it and wipes the grin off its face, as well as a significant amount of flesh off her body.

Having laced his weapon with silversheen, Six rejoins the fight, and for the next few seconds the battle consists of Six and the summoned sharks against the scrag and the hag, with Nameless slowly nearing Gareth and Corven doing so on the ground below. The scrag has trouble dispatching its multiple enemies due to the pseudonatural creatures' resistance to non-magical damage and the infusion Corven had placed on Six earlier, making his form as resistant as granite. Though Six suffers significant damage, he is able to keep fighting, and causes wounds that even the scrag's regeneration cannot fully overcome. The hag tries to use her evil eye on the shark fighting it and is surprised to fail*********. By the time she manages to affect it, she is badly wounded.

Nameless finally reaches Gareth and uses an item that Corven had crafted on the voyage, which allows him to heal the paladin. A groggy Gareth regains his balance, and (realizing that his locked gauntlet has kept Kizmet in his hand) then steps in and smites the scrag with everything that he has. The badly wounded creature cannot resist and collapses. Corven, who has finally got close enough to use his wand on it, gives a disgusted sigh and then triggers the wand anyway, blasting two holes in its chest and slaying it for good. The hag, now alone, decides to risk flight, but the most recently summoned shark bites into it as it passes by, knocking it unconscious. The shark promptly proceeds to chew some large holes in it.

With the enemies all dead, the Angels heal themselves and proceed to check on the enemies. They discover that they cannot revive Luna, who is unwounded but completely unresponsive. Nameless says that he has read something about a hag's evil eye affecting its target for days on end, but that a spell to remove curses should work on her. Leaving the three sahuagin to guard her, the others proceed into the wreck. 

They discover that it is the Merry Celestial and was almost certainly sunk in a storm, as the sahuagin had said. There are a few smaller holes that seem to have been ripped by the scrags trying to make lairs for themselves. Some bodies litter the wreck, though most have been stuck in a makeshift larder with a couple of sahuagin corpses, some of them partly eaten already. After checking what was probably the captain's cabin, they find a bag of galifars and a pouch of gems. Six also locates and takes whatever papers have survived. In checking the bodies, they discover one of a man in armor, who has a magical buckler and a well-made longsword. They take these along, as well as the similarly well-made spear of the hag, and the magical ring it wore. The ship has little cargo that would be salvageable, and even that would take serious time and effort, so they do not take any of it.

After finishing their search, the group heads back. Nameless suggests they take the corpses along, so they do so, after wrapping them in tarpaulin and tying them together. The sahuagin seem a little confused at this, one suggesting that if they need snacks they can find fresher fare. With the corpses and the still-dazed Luna-shark in tow, they head back. Once they reach the boat, the trip back is quite simple.

When they reach the Wave's Bounty, the sahuagin leave them, and the adventurers re-embark. They are greeted with cheers and Syrina thanks them profusely for their efforts once she hears what happened. She also thanks them for the papers that they recovered, and takes the money and gems to return them to their owners. She suggests that they retain and make use of the longsword and buckler, saying that she will tell them if anyone ever asks about it. 

While the others are already healed, Daelan takes care of Corven's drained strength. Unfortunately, neither he nor Corven can heal Luna yet, so sailors have to take shifts keeping her afloat and in the water. As well as quickly pull her out of the water when she turns back into her normal form. Then she is quickly dried and taken to her bunk, to remain there till she can be cured the next day.

The sahuagin who are supposed to guide the ship arrive shortly after the adventurers return, and once Luna has been taken care of, the Wave's Bounty heads into Shargon's Teeth.

* Yes, that is a reference, and yes, I know it's a sickness on my part.
** Took 54 pts of damage in one rd
*** Rolled a 19, which exactly matched the 4 the kraken rolled, and only because it took a -20 with Improved Grab
**** And swearing at the DM
***** Went down to Str 1
*******Took him exactly to -10. Yay for action points!
******** Natural 1 
*********Shark got a natural 20


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar

Session 19 - January 7, 2006

We began our voyage, and I can say – with no amount of uncertainty – it would have been a very boring trip if not for the work Corven and I have been doing.  Zeke has also been a treat, making us laugh and doing all sorts of tricks.  He has managed to keep himself out of trouble and is learning to behave.  I am glad we have made this new friend, and more importantly, he is on the good guys’ team.

I spend little time socializing with those who are on this voyage, but during the dinner sessions we do chat and there is always some lively discussion, especially when religious talks come about.  Nameless scoffs at my views, Six finds my beliefs in things you cannot see, hear, touch or feel to be confusing, and Luna believes the gods are doing nothing but corrupting the heart of the land.  Either way, I think it is the closest thing we have done together since being together.

On the evening of the second day of our voyage, we encounter another ship – a wind galleon – which is a ship that I hear can go four or five times as fast as our ship.  We prepare for the worst, but the Captain reminds us this could just be a routine passing.  The Captain speaks with the Captain from the wind galleon – a ship by the name Merry celestial.  There was some other ship, a slower ship that left Stormreach two days ago and the Merry Celestial did not pass it – and they should have passed it.  The Merry Celestial takes off, and we continue along our path.  I spend the night praying with Corven, and invite anyone else who worships the Silver Flame.  One of the other passengers joins us but leaves after only the first hour of prayers.

Two days later, while working downstairs the ship suddenly jolts and rocks.  I hear screams coming from top side.  Immediately Corven and I jump up.  Zeke zooms to the deck before I can yell for him to stop.  I charge to the other side of the ship, luckily the door was unlocked and enter a room.  Some poor soul is there cowering, and looking out the port hole I see one of the renowned Kraken!  A deadly creature which, I hear can swallow ships whole.   Realizing I would be largely ineffectual against this creature if I went top-side, in fact I might drown, I pull out my bow and start shooting arrows at it.  The arrows largely bounce off its tough hide, and one of my arrows accidentally kills an injured summoned crocodile – I think Nameless summoned that one.  This was getting me nowhere, and just as I went to leave to find the tentacles lodged into the ship I hear a familiar voice. Zeke is yanked by claws, and I stare at him in horror as he yells “BOSS! HE…” and the Kraken squeeze him to death.  I scream in anger and pull out Kizmet, feeling its comforting power throb in my hands.  I charge down the deck looking for the tentacles lodged into the ship, and just as I was about cut one down, the thing pulls away – everything goes quiet and I sit there crying for Zeke – I give him a prayer and hope the Silver Flame will make an exception for one such as him, and let him join the eternal flame.  I spend the rest of the day, doing my work – quietly – with Corven, not saying much of a word.  We need to get off this blasted boat.

The next day, the ship is much quieter.  We suffered many deaths from the Kraken, and while the Captain thanks us for saving the ship – it is still a sad time for all of us.  We reach Shargon’s Teeth and the Captain blows on a conch shell to summon his Sahuagin contacts.  After a few hours nothing happens, and Nameless suggests that Luna turn into a dolphin and lead the ship.  The Captain decides to wait a bit longer and this pays off as they appear.  After some conversation, the Captain calls our group over and asks us if we would help the Sahuagin.  He says they are experiencing problems from Scrags – Sea Trolls – and if we help kill them the Captain will give us some of our trip fees back.  I agree to help destroy these vile creatures – though I start asking for specifics, and later we receive the details.  We spend the night preparing for the trip and battle.  The Sahuagin cast spells of breathing on us, while Corven and Nameless cast other spells – such as a Freedom of Movement spell.  I cast a Circle Protection Against evil, and then cast a protection from evil on Nameless.

After being taken to the area where the Scrags are hiding out, we swim down and travel ahead.  It is an interesting feeling, being able to breathe and see under water.  Also, my movement is not hampered at all – I can swing Kizmet as if I were in fresh, open air.  We start to approach our targets and hide behind a wall.  Nameless casts a few preparation spells – including an enlargement spell on me. This will make me a bigger target, but will also greatly improve my combat.  Nameless also casts a spell of Cats Grace on me to increase my ability to avoid being hit.  This should offset the size increase.  Corven enchants our weapons with giant bane – this will help us greatly against the Scrags- who conveniently wear no armor!  One of the Sahuagin goes out as bait – or as they say in the see “chum” – and lures a Scrag and his shark companions out to us.  As they get close, Nameless summons a fireball and kills the sharks while greatly injuring the Scrag.  Six leaps out and charges the Scrag performing some of his tumbling tricks to land a solid blow on the Scrag.  I then charge out and cleft the Scrag with the most powerful attack I could muster.

After we beat this Scrag the Sahuagins start to cheer and dance, but the rest of us push forward to encounter some more sharks, and another group of four Scrags.  Six and I charge up the middle to deal with the two.  The Sahuagin go to the right and left to get the extreme ending Scrags.  Luna goes to the far left to fight that one.  Nameless casts a haste spell, and Six then smacks that Scrag in the face, while I charge up and smite it using all of my divine might to cut it down.  Six then works with me and we finish it off.  Nameless launches a fireball and injures two other Scrags, just after it injured him.  Then I take my full swings on the Scrag that hits me, fully cutting it down and continuing to hit it even after it is down.  Six continues on to his left to beat the Scrag.  Soon I see a large shark and a hag, and the shark charges me and takes a huge bite into me.  I feel if not for the Silver Flame, I would have been dead – but I pass out.

After some time, I am sure it was not more then a few seconds, I wake up due to healing Nameless performed on me using our newly created magical rock*.  Kizmet still in hand, due to the locked gauntlet, I step up and smite the Scrag taking every swing I can and taking it down.  All I hear is Corven in the back screaming “Damn it, that glory hound!”  Then I see two scorching rays blast through the Scrag – which apparently is a lycanthrope.  Luckily, even though it bit me, the Silver Flame protects me from such afflictions.

We search the remnants of the Merry Celestial, which we think was taken down due to a storm.  We grab some of the items there and go top side.  We turn these over to the captain, though we are told we can keep a magical shield and a masterwork sword that we found.  We also found a magical ring on the hag, which we will examine later – I am sure.

The Sahuagin are happy with us, and they guide us through Shargon’s Teeth.


----------



## shilsen

*Session 20 - The Island of the Skulls*

The journey through Shargon's Teeth takes a little longer than a day, with four sahuagin guiding the _Wave's Bounty_. They alternately stand at the stern with Bly to give directions or leap overboard to swim through and indicate a path. It is quickly evident that the ship would have had a very difficult time making it through the maze of rock and water without their aid. Eventually, the ship emerges from Shargon's Teeth during the morning of the 24th. The sahuagin promptly say goodbye and leap overboard.

The ship continues south. On the morning of the 24th, just before dawn, the lookout calls out that he has sighted Stormreach. Those who ascend to the deck can see the lights of the city on the horizon and as the sun gradually rises on their left, they near it. Soon they are close enough to see that the city sits at the tip of the landmass that it is on, which they know is Xen'drik's northernmost peninsula. 

As the ship enters the natural harbor that the city sits on, the passengers see that the docks are quite crowded. Among the varied ships is a Lyrandar wind galleon, moored at a dock specifically designed for it, the elemental that drives it now quiescent. At one end of the docks is a boat town, consisting of boats linked together by rope bridges and rickety platforms, as there was in Sharn. A couple of smaller boats come out and guide the Wave's Bounty into a dock of its own.

The passengers quickly disembark, saying goodbye to Syrina and Bly along the way. They follow Dala onto the docks and follow her into the city. Along the way they pass people of varied races, including a pair of sahuagin standing near the edge of the docks and speaking to some people. After passing from the docks into a clearly low-class area that she identifies as Floodhold, Dala leads them into what seems to be an adventurers quarter. The group of ten (consisting of the Angels, the four other members of the expedition, and Dala) soon arrives at a large inn-cum-tavern, with a sign outside identifying it as the Bloody Giant. Next door is another tavern, this one called the Iron Arm. Between and behind them is another building with a large sign, which identifies it as the Welcome Wench, evidently a brothel of some kind.

Proceeding into the Bloody Giant, Dala speaks to the ogre bouncer, who sends her to the dwarf behind the bar. He identifies himself as the owner, Grelan Parenson. He is expecting her and says that Arrok asked him to hold four rooms for them. Arrok also left a message that he will be by in the evening. On the way up to their rooms, Dala says that Arrok Doone is the guide, and he's one of the best in Stormreach. After dividing themselves up between the rooms, some of the Angels relax at the inn, while others wander around the area. Nameless and Corven find that their respective mage guilds both have a small chapterhouse in the city. Luna and Six go wandering around the marketplace and gets their first glimpse of a giant, in this case a huge, hairy brute who looks completely out of place haggling with a shopkeeper. Gareth locates the local Sivis station and sends a message to Lalia.

In the evening, when all of them have returned, the tavern's common room is a lot more crowded. At least some of the women moving around in there are prostitutes from the Welcome Wench, here to pick up an early buck. While waiting for Arrok to show up, Gareth notices a young man at the rear of the room, dressed like him in full-plate adorned with symbols of the Silver Flame. He is talking to a scruffy-looking man who has a prostitute sitting on his lap. Gareth goes over and introduces himself, followed by Six. The young man turns out to be Magnus, a templar from Thrane, while the scruffy man introduces himself as Cedric (and the girl on his lap as Lily). 

The two ask Gareth and Six to join them, with Cedric commenting that there aren't usually many worshippers of the Flame in Stormreach. When he hears that they are from Sharn, he asks Gareth about Flamebearer Mazin Tana at Coldflame Keep. Gareth has heard the name but doesn't know the man, who Cedric says is an old friend. As the conversation continues, Cedric expresses some degree of dislike for the Archierophant Ythana Morr, who he says he's been more than a little unimpressed with when he met her.

Gareth eventually mentions his full name, causing Cedric to mention that his surname is Galan. Gareth recognizes him as a Brelish paladin whom he had heard about from his grandmother, being famous for his efforts against the Lords of Dust (the rakshasa servitors of the rakshasa rajahs who were bound away by the dragons many millennia ago) and known for being a bit of an eccentric. Nameless, who has wandered over to join the group, apparently knows about Cedric too, since he makes a joking comment about how he's heard tales of Cedric standing valiantly against the darkness, steadfastly and without complaint, to which Cedric responds that if the story didn't mention the six bottles he needed to drink before that, it left something out. Cedric eventually takes his leave, inviting Gareth to stop by and meet him at the Welcome Wench, where he is staying. Gareth agrees, though slightly confused by the location.

Shortly after the three return to join the others, Dala says, "There's Arrok." The adventurers see a big, husky half-orc in armor walking towards them. Instead of stopping he walks past the table, to reveal a tall gnome behind him. The latter walks up with a big smile to greet Dala, and then introduces himself as Arrok Doone. He tells the group that they should discuss what he has to say in one of the rooms, so they all head up. 

In the room, Arrok says that he's been working as a guide in Xen'drik for 15 years, but has been planning on one big job for the last five years. He asks if they've heard the local story of the Island in the Mist. Both Nameless and Corven know a little about it, and Arrok fills in the rest. It's a story that somewhere off the mainland of Xen'drik is an island that contained a giant outpost. Since it wasn't as directly affected by the fall of the giant civilization as the mainland was, there is a chance that there are artifacts and maybe even a functioning giant city there. The story says that the place is perpetually shrouded in mist, which makes it difficult to locate. A couple of times people have claimed to have located it, but their stories were never proved. The fact that all magical searching for the place has been futile hasn't helped either.

A couple of years ago, Arrok found someone who claimed to have actually come from the area decades ago, which they corroborated magically, with the help of research and divinations. Which, as Luna points out, means only that the person himself believes that he came from there. Arrok says that they have gradually managed to work out exactly where this place should be, and that's where this expedition is to head. He's been in touch with Kidro and Dala and they've been planning this for two years. This could be a huge discovery, so they need to go about it very quietly. Arrok has spoken to the captain of a Lyrandar wind galleon (who owes him a favor) that's heading back to Sharn on the 2nd. The plan is for the expedition to get on the ship late on the 28th, and the ship to leave before dawn on the 1st. That gives them an extra day, which they'll spend in sailing to the island (which is approximately 500 miles from Stormreach). They'll be dropped there and the ship will be back in exactly 21 days to pick them up. After relating all this, Arrok says he'll be back with the drow guide shortly while they discuss whether they're in or not. Even before he can reach the door, everyone has agreed.

Arrok returns a few minutes later with a hooded figure, who drops the hood when he enters, to reveal that he's a drow. He is wearing a mithral chain shirt and has two scimitars on his back*. He introduces himself as Urden and goes on to relate his story.  He claims that he was raised on the island, being born to one among a number of drow tribes there. He doesn't remember that much about it, since it was thirty years ago, but he remembers there was a giant wall. The members of his tribe were forbidden from crossing it, because it was supposed to keep some great monster** from crossing over, and he did so out of curiosity. When he returned, he was banished, being put on a canoe and put out to sea. He drifted for weeks, only surviving because his mother secretly hid food and water in the canoe for him, before being picked up by a ship that was on the way to Xen'drik and had been blown off-course in a storm. In Xen'drik, he got off and worked as a servant, a mercenary, a guide, etc. Eventually, he met Arrok some years ago, and when Arrok learned about his background, he persuaded Urden to give him whatever information he could, and to come along on the expedition. So here he is.

Once he's done, the others ask him a number of questions. They learn that the drow tribes on the island believe that it's the world and all that exists beyond it is the ocean. What the wall is built to keep out (or in, since it surrounds the island) is unknown to Urden. He does say that he has seen artifacts on the island that he now knows are of giant manufacture. 

Once they are done, Arrok and Urden take their leave, after Arrok tells everyone to get whatever supplies they need to the next day, though mundane equipment has already been taken care of. The Angels spend the rest of the evening discussing the expedition. Gareth visits the Welcome Wench and has an interesting talk with Cedric. 

***
The next day, the Angels do whatever shopping they need to. Their budget is slightly larger than planned, since Bly stops by the inn and drops off 2,500 galifars for them, which he says is the reward for the information and the things they recovered from the wreck of the _Merry Celestial_.

After dinner, the group heads down to the docks, where they locate the wind galleon the _Sea Sprite_. Boarding it, they meet the captain, Sovelon d'Lyrandar. He has them shown to their quarters, which are much more cramped and less comfortable than the ones they had on the _Wave's Bounty_. Arrok and Urden are all on board, along with the 8 porters who will be accompanying them. 

The ship leaves before dawn on the 1st, traveling at substantial speed out into the Thunder Sea. The adventurers see neither another sail nor any sign of land for the entirety of the day. Early the next morning, they are awoken by sailors sent to tell them that the ship may have sighted what they were looking for. Reaching the deck, they find that there is a huge fog bank directly ahead, stretching across the sea as far as they can see. Arrok and Urden confirm that this is the place and Sovelon guides the ship into the mist, dropping to quarter speed as he does so. Visibility is almost non-existent here, and the Angels feel the mist to be unusually clammy.

Nameless, standing among them, has a strange feeling as the mist envelops him, and it triggers a memory that he didn't know he had. Like the other buried ones that have emerged, it is extremely strong, almost as if he were visualizing it right now. He remembers ...

... stumbling along a stone tunnel, surrounded by a similar mist, which roils and moves around him. He can only glimpse the sides of the tunnel at rare intervals, but keeps a hand on one wall to guide him. He is wearing nothing above the waist and the mist feels cold on his bare skin. There is something wet on his face and when he raises a hand to touch it, he finds it to be blood. There is more blood on his chest and arms. Looking down, he can actually see his ribs laid bare at one point. Somewhere deep inside him, he thinks that he probably should be dead, with a wound like that. His wrists are not bleeding, but feel raw, as if they had been tied. Both ankles have a similar feeling. He tries to think why that is, but his brain doesn't seem to be responding. His head seems full of the same mist around him. All he can think of is that something important just happened. Very important. He must let people know. There was death. And pain. But it's safe for now. He's safe. Nobody knows he's here. They knew (and even within the muzziness in his head he's mildly surprised that he can't remember who they are - or were), but they're dead now. He's alone. Except for the voice. And that's when he vaguely notices the voice in his head. It speaks soothingly to him, telling him that he should turn around and come back to it. It can give him things, shiny things, powerful things, if only he comes back to it. But he knows it's lying. And however much it speaks to him, it can't force him to come back. He's too confused, too tired, too hurt, but somewhere deep beyond that, he's just too stubborn. As he keeps moving forward, now stumbling over what he thinks might be bodies, bumping against walls and feeling his way to the next opening and then the next, the voice keeps cajoling, but it's growing steadily weaker. Finally it starts screaming in a language he does not understand (though, in the present, Nameless now recognizes that language as daelkyr, and the screaming as mostly incoherent rambling about time and a prison) and then fades away. At the same time, his hands encounter a door and he shoves it open. As he steps through, for a moment the mists in front of him part, though they remain as a shroud covering the sky above him. He finds herself standing at the bottom of a hill, looking out over a large plain. Bodies litter the ground, comprising two distinct groups of people. One group, forming a ring around the doorway, is dressed in motley clothes and armor, ranging from people in robes with no weapons to a couple of people in polished mail. Facing them are what seem to be military men, all wearing Cyran uniforms. Most of the dead have frozen looks of horror on their faces. In the distance far beyond these two groups, he sees more bodies here and there, as far as his eye can see. Even within the muzziness in his head, he thinks (or does he just hear someone thinking?), "They will call this the Day of Mourning." Slowly, he stumbles away from the doorway and onto the plain of the dead. As he goes, he think that there's something important he is forgetting, but for the life of he, he couldn't say what...

Nameless calmly files away the memory for later consideration and characteristically, does not mention it to anyone. The ship continues into the mist for about fifteen minutes, having covered over two miles even at the lowered speed, before people can hear the sound of waves on rock. Moments later, the two lookouts posted in the stern with powerful lanterns yell that they see rocks. Sovelon instantly brings the ship to a stop, as only an elemental galleon can, but not before a couple of large rocks loom out of the mist only a dozen feet from the ship. Turning to Arrok, who is near him, the captain says that he cannot further risk his ship and will offload them via boat, so that they can land.

The group of twenty is broken up between two large boats crewed by sailors from the ship and lowered into the water. As they head in the direction of the unseen shore, they gradually pass scores, or maybe hundreds, of rocks. Some look like they may have once had huge faces or skulls carved on them, but as close to unrecognizable now due to the effects of wind and water. Urden says that now he's sure this is the island, since these were the rocks around it. 

Suddenly, the boats break out of the mist, which stops like a wall behind them. It also rises up to form a ceiling about 200 ft above, which eventually breaks up in the distance (about a quarter mile away), revealing blue sky and sun above. The three Cyrans in the group find it very reminiscent of the Mournland, except that the ceiling doesn't end there. The island is only some fifty feet away. There is almost no beach, consisting rather of a rocky outcropping before a large rock cliff that seems to run left & right as far as the eye can see. There are clefts and breaks in various areas through the cliff, some quite wide. 

The boats pull up on the rock shelf and off-load the passengers, as well as the boxes of equipment and supplies. These also include some slightly unusual items, ranging from the small pull-cart that Six has insisted he bring along, and the two traveling alchemist's labs, one of which Corven's homunculus is perched upon. Once they are unloaded, the boats quickly leave, none of the sailors seeming to want to hang around. 

While the others make the last preparations before heading in, Luna walks up to the edge of the beach and casts a _detect magic_, hoping to decipher if the mist or the area is magical. To her surprise, she has the unusual experience of her spell flickering like a candle in a wind, till it finally winks out. She mentions this to Nameless, who is near her. He tries the same, and though his spell too flickers, it eventually settles into a weak and narrow cone shape. He finds that he can detect magic on Luna and himself, but items beyond twenty feet do not show up as they should. Nameless tells Luna what happened but cannot explain it, and the pair head back to join the others.

Six, Luna and Arrok then scout the immediate area, looking for tracks, but the stone ground makes it impossible for them to find anything they can be sure of. They do, however, find a cleft that passes through the cliff, which seems to be a few hundred feet wide. The group takes up a formation with Six, Luna and Arrok in the lead, followed by the porters, who are in pairs and carrying boxes strung on poles, with Gareth in the rear. The others spread themselves among the porters.  

The procession heads through the cliff. After a minute or two, one of the porters gives a warning yell and drops his pole. Everyone quickly sees what he has noticed, as five creatures leap up from their concealment in the rocks on either side of the cleft. They slightly resemble malformed wolves, though they are shorter and more squat, with patchy fur covering shrunken unhealthy-looking hide that sticks to their bony sides. Their eyes are blank white, set in a feral, low-slung skull. 

As others drop what they are carrying and grab for weapons, each of the creatures lets out a wailing yowl that strikes fear into those who hear it. Only Gareth, with his divinely granted immunity, resists the supernatural effect. The creatures swiftly move to attack, leaping from the rocks. Urden, who has apparently seen them before, yells, "They're yowlers! Careful - they are hard to hit."

Apparently the creatures are not just hard to hit but capable of hitting hard themselves, since two of them bear Urden and Corven to the ground, while the other three attack Six, Gareth and the unfortunate porter who first saw them. Luckily for the others, Arrok has ensured that everyone is wearing armor and carrying some weapon and a light crossbow, so they are soon launching a volley of missiles at the creatures. Which quickly illustrates what Urden meant, since some bolts seem to pass right through the creatures, though others hit. "There's some displacement effect on them," warns Nameless, moments after he has _slow_ed a couple of the creatures. He switches to _magic missile_s, knowing that they hit with unerring accuracy.

The sheer numbers of the expedition make sure some of their attacks get through, though Urden and Corven are soon badly hurt. Urden, rolling on the ground and slapping at the creature with his scimitars, shouts, "Use fire on them!", causing Luna to _summon_ three small fire elementals. One attacks the creature that Six has already seriously wounded, fortuitously setting it on fire. The creature screams in fear and flees, followed by the one that has been worrying Corven, at least partly impelled by a blast of his _scorching ray_ wand fired right into its maw. 

This lets the group concentrate their attacks on the three remaining, which soon turn tail and flee. The 'yowlers' are apparently preternaturally strong, having taken considerable damage without going down. Nameless hits the last fleeing one with a parting volley of _magic missile_s, and it stumbles but keeps going, to disappear into the rocks. Gareth, who has had a hard time hitting his opponent, grimaces and says, "Those things were tough!", before going to tend to the porter who was badly wounded.

Luckily, nobody is mortally wounded, and after some healing, the expedition moves on. When they emerge through the cliff, they find themselves on the verge of a thick tropical forest, which springs up only some thirty feet away. Luna comments, "This isn't natural." Urden adds that this is true of the entire island, which is ringed by the cliff and the forest, which he says is about a quarter of a mile wide. Beyond it is a slightly smaller space before the wall, where the drow tribes live. 

They notice that a well-worn trail emerges from the forest about a hundred feet away. Near where it does, set against the cliff, are a couple of small huts, with half a dozen canoes stacked near them. Urden comments that he was sent off to sea in one like that and that all of the tribes use them. Though it was a long time ago, he doubts these belong to the tribe he came from. As he is speaking, Corven sees movement among the trees and catches a glimpse of two drow running off. They are almost naked, wearing hides. He quickly points it out, but they are gone by then. Urden says that they'd probably be very curious, more than hostile, since they'll never have seen any races other than drow.

The group heads along the trail and after about ten minutes, sees a dozen drow coming towards them. The drow come to a stop, looking wary but not threatening, and Urden steps forward and signals them to approach. A couple do, one asking the group in a very strange dialect of elven where they are from. Corven and Collus translate for the others, Collus commenting that it sounds like an incredibly archaic variant of elven. They quickly discover that they drow have no conception of the Common tongue used elsewhere in Khorvaire. They also notice that while the drow carry crude spears and shields, made of wood and hides, two have well-made steel weapons and one has a large steel shield. The drow ask the group to come to their village and accompany them. 

Within five minutes of travelling, the adventurers can see a stone wall in the distance, which must be about forty feet high, with the tops of some trees sticking above it. The forest soon ends abruptly, stopping a few hundred feet before the wall. The wall is about 40 ft tall, though it is a little lower in places where the top (which consists of a crenellated parapet) has broken. It looks very well made, though there are places that have crumbled and been replaced crudely by rocks. There are also some crude stone walkways that lead to the top. The village in front of it consists of dozens of large huts, with scores of drow walking around. On either side of the village are some small fields. The huts are all made of very crude materials, with unusual items here and there that stick out. A ten-foot high steel shield makes up part of a wall, while a large spear with an apparently adamantine blade supports a roof. Nearby, two huts are built connected to a 15 ft stone pillar that has stylized symbols (which both Collus and Imre identify as giant in make).

There is a large crowd gathered to see them, many with weapons in hand. The drow with the group call something to them (which Corven translates as "Get Rezan"), and they slowly get out of the way of the group. As they advance, an elderly drow woman comes through the crowd, accompanied by an unusually tall male. The latter wears a fine breastplate and carries a heavy pick, and they are followed closely by six more drow in chain shirts and carrying metal weapons. 

The woman introduces herself as Rezan, shaman of the village, and the tall warrior as the chief, Uthgen. She asks if she can touch them and when Corven agrees, comes up to touch his face and arms to check if he is painted. Seeing that he isn't, which draws murmurs from the crowd, she asks them where they came from. When they say they came from across the ocean, she pauses and then asks them to accompany her. She leads them to the center of the village, outside her large hut. Once they are seated on mats placed for their benefit, she asks the other drow to disperse, Uthgen included. They do so, only to stop about fifty feet away and stare at the newcomers.

With this limited privacy, she says that they should not lie. There is nowhere beyond the ocean to come from. There is only the world and the mist (refers to the island as the world) and the ocean beyond. Her forefathers say there were other worlds once, but when the scaled ones came, they took away the other worlds and set up the mist, to keep "the people" (what she calls the drow) safe here. Urden corroborates the others' claim, saying that he came from the island, but though Rezan listens politely, she doesn't seem too convinced.

Some of the adventurers are interested in the story of the scaled ones. Corven asks her if they were dragons, only to discover that she does not have the word for "dragons" in her vocabulary. Rezan relates the story of history that she and her people believe in. The Scaled Masters made the world, which they then give to the High Ones. The High Ones ruled the world, rode the seas and made the wall, but they then angered the Scaled Masters, who cast down the High Ones, made the mist and gave the people (drow) the law, that they were to guard the wall and none were ever to cross it. There were other worlds too, but the Scaled Ones destroyed them in their anger, so there is only this world now. Collus, Nameless and Corven opine that it is the drow's story for the casting down of the giant civilization by the dragons of Argonessen.

Rezan also asks what the adventurers are here for, and when they explain that they plan to travel across the wall, she tries to persuade them not to do so. She says only that it would be very bad. When the adventurers ask about what is on the other side of the wall, she says that is where the High Ones were, but now there are only monsters. In order to avoid alarming Rezan, Corven and the others who can speak elven tell her that they will not cross the wall, which seems to mollify her. She asks them to stay at the village as they wish.

While the rest of the group rests and talks about what they have discovered (and make plans to stay at the village for a day or two, pretend to leave, get some distance away and then cross the wall), Luna wanders away into the forest, planning to do some investigation of her own. She finds a couple of drow following her, but loses them by stepping behind a tree and changing form into an eagle.

She flies above the trees and over the wall. She sees that it is about ten feet wide on the top. The stone on the other side is covered with scorch marks in large sections, as if it had been hit by huge explosions. On the far side is a tropical forest, spreading left and right as far as she can see, as does the wall. The most obvious natural formation is a low mountain that must be about forty miles away. From its position, it might be the center of the island, which would then be close to a hundred miles in diameter. 

As Luna flies along the wall, she sees that there are some streams running through the forest, seeming to come from the direction of the mountain. She also sees some large open areas, a couple of them many miles wide. Noticing movement in the closest one, some five miles away, she flies closer and finds that it is occupied by small herds of grazing dinosaurs. The largest is a small family of triceratops. As she watches, a dozen velociraptors come running out of the forest. They cut a couple of the smaller dinosaurs out of a herd and bring them down quickly, before starting to feed. 

Moving on, Luna notices that there are a few trails through the thick forest, though they are few and far between. Deciding to find out as much about it as she can, she finds a smaller eagle and casts a spell to speak with animals. The other bird is the usual mixture of laconic and dumb that most animals are, and after a couple of minutes, Luna leaves it and flies off. She manages to snare an unwary squirrel and speak to it too, once she has managed to persuade it that it's not about to die and work past its focus on nuts. Between the two animals, she learns that among the dangers of the forest are the "singing tree" and that the trails are made by "two-feets" that have "yellow skin" and "hunt, kill, eat" many things (including squirrels).  

Deciding that she has learned as much as possible, Luna releases the squirrel (which promptly tries to go speak to another bird and gets eaten) and flies back, heading for the wall and the drow camp.

* Yup, that's the one
** No, he doesn't mention a legendary dire ape


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## shilsen

Written by AviLazar:

Session 20 - January 14, 2006

We continue on our journey, everything seeming quiet as Captain Bly and the Sahuagin go through their routine to ensure our safe passage.  Finally, after a long trip, we reach the shores of Stormreach on the 24th.  Stormreach is not what I expected – I thought I would see a hovel of a village, but it is quite an expansive town with a lot of infrastructure.  The people who built Stormreach have done a great job into making this a town.

We navigate our way through the town, following Dala, and enter the Bloody Giant inn.  Dala goes and speaks with the proprietor to confirm our room reservations.  Looking around, I decide to head out to house Sivis and from there I send a message to Lalia – informing her of my safe arrival.  This message, apparently, will not get out for a few days as the house has a lot of orders.  I travel around Stormreach a bit more, exploring the area and later that evening I head back to the Bloody Giant.

Inside the inn I see two people, one of which is wearing full-plate with symbols of the Silver Flame.  I walk over, and introduce myself to him.  He introduces himself as Thrane, and his friend – who has a prostitute with him – is Cedric.  They invite us to sit down, and Six and I do so.  We talk for a few minutes and at this point I learn that Cedric is also a follower of the flame, not to what extent, but I have this feeling he is a brother to arms – though he does not dress or act like those I have met before – not many, but still a lot by most peoples standards.  I then give my full-name to Cedric and Magnus, realizing I was rude to only give my first name.  Cedric mentions his last name, Galan, and I remember a story of a Brelish paladin – who is well known against the Lords of Dust.  I piece his name with the feeling I get from him, and this man who has a prostitute on his legs is brother – a fellow paladin of the Silver Flame.  At this point Nameless strolls in and upon learning who Cedric is starts shaking his hand and seems quite happy to meet him.  Cedric then leaves, at the urging of his prostitute, and he invites me for drinks at the Welcome Wench.

We then see Dala come back with two other people and she introduces them as some more companions who will travel with us.  The first of which I notice is a half-orc in, behind him is a tall gnome who goes by the name Arrok Doone.  We begin to discuss what we should expect, and apparently Arrok has a lot of experience in this profession – about fifteen years, and he has been spending the past five or so planning this trip.  Knowing this now, I think we have a good chance of surviving this expedition – which apparently nobody has ever taken before.  According to Arrok, others have heard of this place but it is supposed to be a myth.  Arrok then asks us if we would like to take this expedition, and we agree.  He then leaves and comes back with a drow by the name of Urden, who wears a mithral chain shirt and wields two scimitars on his back.  Nameless’ scrutinizes Urden and breaths a sigh, why I am not sure – I highly doubt Nameless has met this person, but who knows what secrets reside in Nameless’ head.

Urden tells us of a story, how he was banished from his home – this island we are going to – and although he should have died at sea on a small skiff, he managed to stay alive by the food and water his mother snuck to him before he left, and pure luck of being picked up by another ship.  Once in Xen’drik, Arrok worked as a servant, and eventually a guide and sell-sword.  An interesting tale, and his experiences should prove invaluable.  Everyone turns in for the night, but I take my leave and head over to speak with Cedric.

Upon going to the Welcome Wench, the place Cedric is staying in, I am greeted by a guard who instructs me to leave Kizmet by the cupboard.  I instinctively touch Kizmet, but am not about to leave it lying around – especially not in a place like this.  I am saved an argument when the owner, Katryna, comes down and says I am expected guest and can retain my sword.  Katryna walks me upstairs, and I speak with her briefly.  She tells me that Cedric comes here every now and again, paying – in excess – for their services and providing healing to any of the girls who need it.  We enter the room, where Cedric has three women with him, and he is telling them of one of his adventures.  Katryna takes the girls out of the room so Cedric and I can speak in private.

Cedric and I speak on many topics, mainly how we view the world, drinking whatever concoction he hands me.  It is interesting, this Cedric Galan, he holds many views that I do – and definitely the call of the Silver Flame – but he is uncouth.  He has great honor, but his diplomacy is about as refined as Luna’s.  I like him though – he is honest, and considering how many liars, thieves, and tricksters I have been dealing with lately – it is refreshing.  Cedric and I part company, as he walks downstairs asking how he can get a hold of me in the future when he stops by Sharn.  I tell him I will look forward to meeting him again, and I will meet his friend Flamebearer Mazin Tana at Coldflame Keep.  I head back to the inn, with a little too much drink in me and go to sleep for the night.

Waking up in the morning, with a massive headache – I pray to the Silver Flame, and add in a bit about getting some help from this hangover.  I think this is why I was taught to not drink.

We have breakfast, and Captain Bly stops by the inn to give us 2,500 Galifars for helping with the Merry Celestial.  This was the reward money for the items and information we recovered.  We go about, doing some shopping, and I buy a couple of potions for the trip – particularly in areas where I cannot help – poisons.  We spend most of the day shopping and relaxing, and finally this hangover leaves me.  Six is curious about this feeling, Luna tells me I deserve as much, and Nameless just laughs at me.  The only sympathy is from Corven, but even that came with a lecture about drinking too much.

That evening, we have a good dinner – probably the last good dinner for a while – and head down to the docks where we board a ship named the Sea Sprite.  We meet the captain, a Sovelon d’Lrandar and the ship leaves pre-dawn.  We travel and by the next morning a huge fog bank was spotted.  We traverse inside of this fog and eventually come close enough to land where we use canoes to travel to shore.  As we do travel, the mist – all of a sudden – just ends.  This mist is magical to say the least, and it is confirmed when Luna and Nameless casts a detect magic spell; however, as they does so, it starts to putter in and out.  Nameless has slightly better results then Luna, but his field of view is narrowed.  I do not try, deciding to save my spells for later use, but I figure I will not be too better off then they will.

We dismount from the boats and our porters – who are fairly well armed – start carrying the boxes on poles.  After walking for a bit, we are walking in a path between cliffs…I feel like this would make for a great ambush, and this brings me worry.  I keep Kizmet at the ready – as always – and then odd looking wolves appear on opposite sides of the cliffs.  Their eyes are white and their skulls are misshapen as the rest of their bodies.  Everyone prepares for the oncoming attack, and the creatures try and emit an affect fear to stun the group.  The Silver Flame protects me from such tricks, but some in our group are not so lucky.  The battle ensues, and spells start to fly – Nameless casts slow on a small group of these creatures dramatically reducing their effectiveness.  Nameless screams these things have sort of displacement ability.  Realizing that hitting them is not due to armor, but pure luck if their displacement kicks in, I start to attack with all the power I can muster, and miss the first couple of times.  Finally these things are taken out with the combined effort of the group, and the remainders flee.  We heal the group, and then continue on our trek.

Walking for a while longer we bypass the cliffs and enter a forest that Luna says is not natural.  Urden tells us to expect this because it happens often here.  We see a trail in the distance and some huts with canoes.  Urden comments this is what he was sent off in – for banishment.  After seeing the canoes, banishment is just the way these people execute their members without calling it that.  Corven then see’s two draw running in the distance and Urden tells us we are more likely to get a curious reaction then a violent one.  I am glad; I do not want to fight an entire tribe because they are xenophobic.  We walk a little bit further, and twelve drow come up towards us – most of their equipment is crude, but two have high quality steal weapons and a shield.  They speak to us, in an ancient form of elven, and ask us to go to their village.

The village is not far, about ten minutes away, and we get there unmolested.  The village is strange.  It is crude, which is what I expected, but what makes it strange is that some of the buildings are supported by gigantic pieces of equipment.  One hut uses a ten-foot high steel shield as part of the wall, and then there is a large spear with an adamantine blade to hold the roof of another.  This land was once roamed by giants.

We meet a woman, Rezan, who is the shaman of the village. She speaks with Corven and he tells us she would like to touch our faces – she thinks we are painted this color.  Apparantly, she has never seen anyone with our complexians before.  Corven tells her where we are from, and she takes us to her hut.  We sit there, outside the hut, and begin to speak.  Rezan tells us we should not lie to her, she does not believe that we came from beyond the mists as there is no such thing as a world beyond the mists.  Taking her story, Nameless, Corven and Collus relate it to the history of the dragons of Argonessen and the destruction of the giant civilization.  We tell Rezan of our desire to cross the wall, but she tells us it is forbidden to go there and it would be bad if we do.  Corven calms her and tells her we will not cross the wall.  Rezan tells us we can stay in the village as long as we would like to.

We rest up in the village, and Luna sneaks off to explore the surrounding forest.  She comes back a bit later, and tells us of some of the things she has seen.  Luna tells us that she has seen some dinosaurs, and has spoken to a squirrel which said it has seen two legged creatures with yellow skin that kill various animals for food.


----------



## shilsen

*Session 21 (1/21/06) - Over the Wall (or "40,000 Years of Rubbing")*

Luna nears the wall without trouble but just as she reaches it, she flies smack-dab into an invisible barrier, flattening herself against it with a surprised "squawk!", falling, and then righting herself. She casts a _detect magic_, which seems to work without trouble, and detects a moderate aura of evocation, as well as some divination and universal magic, mostly in the shape of a barrier in front of her. It stretches as far upwards and on either side as she can detect. She surmises that it is a _wall of force_ and tries flying further away or higher and getting by. Experimentation reveals that it stretches along the inner surface of the stone wall as far as she goes, and as high as she goes. Luna then tries dropping down to the ground and changing shape into an ape and climbing up the wall, which reveals that the _wall of force_ extends to the ground too. Eventually, after trying various things, she tries to climb over the wall in her normal form and is able to do so. Slightly bruised, she heads back to join her companions.

When she reaches the village, where some of the drow look at her suspiciously but ask no questions, she finds the others in the middle of a discussion. Six has been suggesting that the island itself is as big a treasure as anything that could be found beyond the wall. He suggests that the group consider setting up an outpost and trying to control/aid/benefit from travel into the interior, just as Stormreach does in Xen'drik. The others have differing opinions about the feasibility of the enterprise. Dala says, "I'm quite sure that as soon as news of this discovery gets out, people will be swarming to this place, so while it's an interesting idea, I'd say we should still get as much out of here as we can this time." Luna returns at this point to report what she saw and experienced. Nameless theorizes that the _wall of force_ might be triggered by a combination of someone trying to leave and doing so by magical means. Luna suggests he try out the theory, but Nameless declines.

Rezan returns shortly afterwards to let the group know that accommodation has been arranged at a large hut for them. She also spends some time asking them more questions, especially about their plans for the next day. Nameless and others tell her that they will not cross the wall but will simply go speak to some of the other tribes. She warns that other tribes might be more hostile, and Nameless replies, "In which case, they will rapidly become much smaller tribes."

Six asks about the stone walkways leading to the top of the wall, and Rezan says that they are used to post sentries on the wall if they hear dangerous creatures on the other side. She also says that supposedly some generations ago, a few of the surviving High Ones had tried to cross the wall and the drow had used them to fight them back. Six also asks her what they use for money on the island, a concept she seems unclear about. Corven produces a copper, silver and gold coin as examples. Rezan asks, "Like this?" and produces a golden disk from a large pouch she carries around, this one weighing about 5 pounds. Imre, the appraiser in the group, opines that it contains about 250 galifars worth of gold. Unfortunately any marks that it might once have had have been removed by thousands of years of being carried around, so it has no value as a historical artifact.

After some discussion, a couple more drow let Rezan know that dinner has been served, and she leads the group to a large open space, where mats have been set for them, with plates and bowls of food nearby. Dozens of other drow join them, though they sit at a discreet distance. During the meal, a small group of drow perform a dance that sets out the history of the world as the tribe sees it, acting as the Scaled Masters and the High Ones in turn. 

After the dance and dinner, Rezan tells the group to rest and says she will see them the next day. Urden suggests that the group post watches, since he doesn't really trust the tribe, so they do so (with Six remaining on watch throughout, as always). Late in the night, Six, Gareth and Niff notice a small group of drow approach the hut. When they are a little over a hundred feet away, they stop and then head away. Other than that, nothing of note occurs.

***
The next morning, the group joins Rezan for breakfast. As usual, she has the silent Uthgen and the six armored drow with her. Over breakfast, she asks again about the group's plans and Nameless repeats what they said before. Rezan then excuses herself for a few moments and goes to her hut, with Uthgen in tow.

The two return and approach the group, and then Rezan shouts, "Kill the liars! They must not cross the wall!" She hurls a small bead in their direction, which explodes with concussive force, battering Corven, Gareth and a couple of others. It expands out into a globe of force that almost engulfs Gareth, but he manages to dodge away. Uthgen rushes forward and strikes at Luna, wounding her slightly. As the other drow grab at their weapons and attack, the Angels and other members of the expedition quickly defend themselves. 

Nameless is the quickest, casting a spell even before he bothers to stand up, which conjures up a field of _black tentacles_, which wrap themselves around Rezan and a drow warrior. "I warned you!" he says, as he stands up. Nearby, Corven quickly uses an infusion to make Six's weapon more deadly to drow, and the warforged attacks Uthgen. Which rapidly becomes embarrassing as he tries to trip the drow chieftain and fails to do so, having to drop the chain before being pulled off his own feet instead. Luna steps away from Uthgen and casts _produce flame_, hitting him with a bolt of flame that pierces his resistance to magic. Gareth attacks one of the other drow with Kizmet.

With the combination of the adventurers, Arrok and Urden, Dala and the four others from Sharn, and the eight porters, the drow are quickly in dire straits, with a couple being quickly cut down. Rezan and the other trapped drow show no sign of being about to escape. A few dozen drow are in the process of rushing to join the fight when Nameless casts a well-placed _web_ spell from one hut to another, catching a number of them. These drow apparently have no idea about such magic, since a couple try to break through by throwing themselves at the _web_, promptly sticking fast. Uthgen is the only one who seems to be holding his own, managing to wound Six as he retrieves his spiked chain, but Six and Luna then combine to wound him badly. 

In desperation, Rezan pulls a bead from her necklace and hurls it. To the momentary surprise of the group (and from her expression - hers too), it blossoms into a _fireball_, scorching a number of people. More alarmingly, it reveals that some of the downed drow are wearing such _necklaces of fireball_, since it ignites another, which then ignites another, and so on. A total of four fireballs explode in quick succession. When the explosions end, Corven, three porters and the student scribe Maura are all lying on the ground unconscious, while everyone else is scorched to some degree. Not one of the drow besides Uthgen survive.

The drow villagers who were hurrying to join the fight stop in horror, scream in terror and flee. Their flight is doubly motivated by the two pseudonatural bison that Nameless had just summoned, which he now commands to kill the drow. They charge off, goring or trampling on the unlucky ones they find. Six, meanwhile, cuts down Uthgen with a mighty blow*, while Rezan and the other drow are squeezed to death by the tentacles. The others hurry to revive the unconscious people and find that luckily none are dead. 

With the battle quickly terminated, the group does a cursory check of the dead drow, finding two unaffected _necklaces_ (each with one bead) and collecting the large gold piece that they had seen the day before. Six also goes and collects the adamantine spearhead that they had seen used as a roof support. He notices that the vast majority of the drow have managed to flee successfully into the forest, except for the few who are now barricaded in their huts or sitting on a roof screaming with fear while a tentacled bison tries to reach them.

Once he rejoins the others, the expedition proceeds over the wall. Reaching the top via the stone walkways, they find it exactly as Luna had described. While they lower themselves and the supplies with ropes, Luna wildshapes into an eagle and flies around to try and spot the nearest trail. She finds one that leads in the general direction of the mountain, and returns to lead the group in that direction. Urden, having seen the mountain, says, "My tribe believed that was the center of the island." Arrok says, "Then I'm guessing if there is something to find, it's there. Let's go."

With that, the expedition heads into the forest. Arrok, Urden and Six take the lead, followed by a line of porters, with Corven and Nameless in the middle and Gareth at the rear. Collus and Maura are about a quarter of the way down, while Imre and Niff are about the same distance ahead of Gareth. Luna flies overhead and ahead, using her increased speed to scout ahead and returning at intervals to report with gestures and scratching in the ground. 

As they proceed over the next few hours, they discover a number of things about the forest. It is a very heavily wooded one, with a canopy that exists on three general levels. The highest trees are over a hundred feet tall, with a lower layer at around sixty feet, and then a third one at about thirty. This arrangement makes it difficult for Luna to get a clear view of the area ahead. Also, they soon discover that the floor of the forest is at various levels. It often falls away to a depth of a hundred feet or more, and then rises abruptly at other times. A few large crevasses are encountered, splitting the ground to deeper depths. These undulations in the terrain are also difficult for Luna to make out if flying above the canopy, and she is eventually reduced to flying about fifty feet above her companions, avoiding the taller trees as she goes.

The forest has more than its fair share of fauna, and there are sometimes animal tracks on or near the trail. At one point, Arrok spots a set of humanoid-shaped tracks. They are slightly larger than human-sized, but are oddly misshapen. Arrok and Urden consult but aren't sure what it could be. Since they head along the trail in the same direction that the expedition is heading, and also happen to be no more than a day old, they recommend caution (a little redundantly, since everyone is on alert anyway) and continue. A short time later, Six notices a much larger track. This one must have come from a creature at least fifteen feet tall, also humanoid in general shape, which drags or rests on its knuckles as it walks. It is difficult to say if there was more than one. Arrok and Urden say that they could be hill giants, but the fingers seem more misshapen and hill giants are usually only about 10 feet tall, or 12 feet at the biggest. These tracks seem a little older.

The first sign of danger for the group comes from a much smaller set of enemies. A number of the group hear distant chirping, like that of a number of birds. Luna, who is nearby, flies in that direction and returns soon. Unable to explain in detail, she changes back to normal form and explains that she heard a lot more of the sounds but couldn't see anything, though there was rustling in the undergrowth below. Her comment is quickly corroborated as the chirping breaks out nearby, followed by the appearance of a dozen or so small green dinosaurs from the bushes nearby. They are a foot tall and have a large beak-like mouth, with disproportionately large teeth.

The dinosaurs scamper forward, eyeing the group with their beady eyes and chirping as they come. One reaches Gareth and looks up at him. The paladin is apparently not an animal-lover, since he says, "I don't trust these," and takes a swing at it with his sword. To the surprise and amusement of the rest, he misses by a mile** as the creature quickly darts aside. Luna begins to yell, "Gareth - there's no need fo..." but is cut off by a chorus of chirping, as hundreds of the creatures swarm out of the bushes at the group.

Everyone has weapons and wands prepared, so the creatures take a volley of shots, but that only leaves a few of them dead. Nameless manages to cast a spell and _fly_ up above them, but they literally roll over the others, biting and scratching with glee. Six is the first to realize that discretion is much the better part of valor here and runs for the closest tree, trailing dinosaurs as he goes. He leaps up and grabs a branch and pulls himself off the ground. Luna swears in anger and then unleashes a _flame strike_, which roasts dozens of the creatures, clearing a space for her to also run and get up a tree. 

After some abortive attempts to cut down some, many of the others manage to do the same, though Corven and most of the porters are hampered by the pain*** of lots of small teeth and claws ripping at them. After a few seconds, they too manage to make their way to some plant or the other. Only two of the porters are unable to flee. Nameless swoops down and manages to barely pull one off the ground, but it's too late for the other. The dinosaurs literally rip apart the screaming man, feasting on him even before he's dead. After depositing the unconscious porter near Gareth, who barely made it off the ground with his armor, so that he can be healed, Nameless _summon_s three pseudonatural bison. Their magical resistance to damage stands them in good stead against the creatures and after they have trampled a fair number (Six has already nailed a number with a _fireball_ via one of the beads from the drow), the dinosaurs disperse. 

The remaining members of the expedition slowly climb down and tend to their wounds. The remains of the dead porter, who has been reduced almost to a skeleton, are interred in a shallow grave nearby and the reduced group continues on its way. Someone jokes that they just got treed by the equivalent of a swarm of featherless, green chickens. Nobody seems to find the comment that amusing.

After a couple more hours of traveling, by which time the trail has ended abruptly and been left behind, Arrok suggests that they now make camp. The group picks a site near the base of one of the abrupt descents that they have found in the forest floor, so that they are protected from a couple of sides. The area has a broad open space in the forest canopy above it, and while they are making camp, they see dozens of bats rise from the forest about a mile away. This wouldn't be unusual, but after they account for the distance, they realize that the bats must be about the size of small ponies. But apparently they aren't the largest things in the island's sky. As they fly about, a pair of much larger winged creatures (evidently some sort of dinosaur) zoom up out of the forest near them. They swiftly grab a bat each and wing away with their struggling prey, long leathery wings propelling them away from the party. 

"You know," comments Six after seeing that, "Suddenly I'm glad that I'm not the one flying around as a bird." Nameless points out that if Luna's swallowed by one of those things, she can turn into a porcupine or some such, but Luna doesn't seem that enthused about the possibility.

***
The night passes without trouble, though some of those on watch hear large creatures moving around in the distance, and at one point, a loud roar wakes the sleepers. The next morning, the group heads on. Luna, flying above, estimates that they have covered about a dozen miles from the wall, and that it will take them two more days or so to reach the mountain.

An hour or so after they head out, the group stumbles across a strange area. To the view of those behind him Six, who is only a few steps ahead of Arrok and Urden, suddenly appears to be four times the distance away. Six himself notes that the area around him seems to have suddenly expanded in distance. He promptly leaps back, looking to those outside as if he covered a large distance in a second. 

The porters promptly stop, while the other Angels and the experts from Sharn hurry up to join Six. Nameless uses a _detect magic_ to discover that the area ahead is highly magical, in the shape of a large cylinder that must be about two hundred feet in width and forty in height. Powerful auras of transmutation, enchantment and universal magic fill the area, but they apparently do not come from extant spells. 

While he is discovering this and discussing it with the others, Corven enters the area, with Six accompanying him. Those outside see the same distortion in space that they had, and soon realize there is a distortion in time as well, with those inside seeming to move much faster. Experimentation and discussion reveals that the area within is four times as wide as it seems to be from the outside, and time within moves four times as fast. A dropped coin, for example, falls at normal speed inside but for those outside, seems to fall in slow motion. Even more interestingly, this spatial distortion applies only to distance, with trees, people and other such things appearing exactly the same size. Perhaps due to these strange effects, this section of the forest has no birds or animals within it that the group can see.

The expedition members spend some time studying the area and conjecturing what its source could be. Collus surmises that it might be some after-effect of the destruction of the giants by the dragons. Six is more interested in practical aspects, wondering whether they would be able to rest within this area for 2 hours in the outside world and gain the full benefits of the 8 hrs of time that would pass within. Though they've broken camp too recently to try the experiment, the cartographer Niff marks the area carefully in the map that he's been making of the island, so that they can perhaps try it on their return.

The group continues onwards, changing direction slightly to start using a nearby trail that Luna has spotted. Around noon, a few of them hear movement among the trees to their right. The source is quickly revealed, as five humanoid-shaped figures emerge from among the trees to hurl javelins, winging Arrok and badly wounding Collus. As he cries out and drops to the ground, those who spotted the creatures return fire or cry warnings to the others. As the creatures move closer, the adventurers see that they resemble trolls but are only slightly taller than humans, with warty yellowish-green skin. They wear no armor, or clothing for that matter besides a couple of pouches and straps, but have a pair of javelins strapped to their backs. 

Luna comes flying back in eagle form, casting a spell to _entangle_ the creatures, but only one is affected, being stuck in place with vegetation wreathed around its legs. The other four move closer, hurling more javelins, even as the porters, Imre, Dala and Niff respond with a volley of crossbow bolts. Nameless sends a _fireball_ that explodes in their midst, scorching them all, though they seem able to dodge the worst of the blast. Urden charges forward with scimitars flashing, followed closely by Arrok, who yells a warning of "Forest trolls! Careful - they use poison!" Six, who has waited momentarily to fire his bow moves up as well. Gareth, a little far from the attackers due to his position at the rear, moves up too, _bless_ing those around him. Corven, who has infused his wand to fire twin rays at once also does so, and characteristically enough, fails to activate it**** when in range. 

The amount of crossbow bolts being fired means a few hit home, and by the time Arrok, Urden and Six reach the enemy, all of the trolls are wounded. As they attack, they see that the trolls' wounds are gradually closing, though not as effectively as a normal troll's would. They hack into the creatures, causing further damage. All of them take a few minor wounds in turn, but one troll quickly goes down. The _entangle_d one staggers under a volley of crossbow bolts and a hurled _produce flame_ from Luna, but manages to hurl one last javelin. It ricochets off a porter's pack and buries itself in the already wounded and poisoned Collus, killing him instantly. Maura, next to him, gives a scream and hurls herself at the body, trying vainly to revive the elderly scholar. A pair of _scorching ray_s that Corven finally manages to fire slam into the troll's chest and drops it in a heap.

The remaining three trolls attempt to flee, but Six and Arrok cut one down as it goes. The other two head back into the trees, their flesh changing color slightly to blend into the background and making them difficult to see. Gareth, who has just managed to move up to join Corven, watches in frustration, knowing that he cannot catch them in his heavy armor. 

Nameless, launching _magic missile_s from behind a tree on the other side of the porters, where he has taken cover against stray spears, gives a yell of pain as a javelin slashes his side. This one comes from behind him, on the opposite side of the trail from where the trolls attacked. Spinning around, he sees another five trolls heading for the group, these ones above the ground and moving along the overhanging tree-branches. Besides the javelin that hit him, four more fly into the porters, hitting one of them. Maura, weeping over Collus' still form, barely has time to look up as one pins her to the ground.

Nameless feels the sting of poison on the javelin-tip but manages to resist it, moving back around the tree. He casts a _stinking cloud_ spell that envelops all the trolls. He hears growls and cries of surprise, followed by a 'thump' as one falls out of a tree. By the time four of them emerge from the cloud, Urden, Six and Corven are racing back and have almost reached him, with the slower Arrok and Gareth some distance behind. 

While Luna hurls more bolts of flame, Nameless uses another spell to _slow_ the trolls, though only one is affected. Another, the fifth and last to emerge, has apparently been affected by the _cloud_ and is unable to fight, choking and coughing. One troll comes rushing up with a snarl and swings at Nameless, but he manages to dodge away. Corven appears next to him and levels his wand, blasting the troll back. The others are soon there too, and quickly engage the rest.

Gareth slashes one badly, is clawed in turn, and quickly realizes that the trolls have poisoned claws too, as he feels his vitality lowered. Still, he wounds it again, as does Six, causing it to try to flee. A pseudonatural bison appears beside it and smashes it to the ground. Arrok and Urden, who apparently have some expertise at fighting together and against such creatures, take the _slow_ed one down. Corven blasts a third off its feet. The nauseated one has already fled and so does the remaining one, pursued by the bison. 

Corven, who has very clearly been enjoying his wand's effectiveness, thinks for a moment of pursuing, but decides not to. He returns to rejoin the others and heads back to the porters, to take stock of losses and heal the wounded. They find that Collus and Maura are both dead, as is another porter, while two others are wounded and poisoned. 

* Crits with drow-bane spiked chains hurt!
** Natural 1
*** i.e. nauseated
**** Rolled a 4 when he needs a 5
***** Only person in the group who could save on a 2. Rolls a 1.


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar:

Session 21 - January 21, 2006

Sitting down we discuss various topics and Six seems to want to take the safe and easy way out by just leaving and selling tickets to this place.  I disagree with Six, and agree with Dala that would not work – to say the least.  For one, the sheer size of the island would make it impossible to prevent entry, but people like Dala do not want to setup an amusement park, they want to explore – and frankly, so do I.  Luna flies in, as a crow, and then changes explaining to us she was having some problems coming back from the wall.  She says some kind of wall of force was in place, but only activated when she was in animal form.  Maybe this wall keeps the animals from coming over here?  Given that she mentioned seeing dinosaurs that may not be such a bad idea.

At this point Rezan returns and speaks with us some more asking us what we plan to do if we are not going to climb the wall.  Nameless tells her we will not cross the wall but will examine it instead and will speak to the other tribes.  Rezan mentions some of the tribes may be hostile, and Nameless informs her that the tribes will not survive our onslaught.  I think diplomacy was thrown out the window as the threat sounded directed towards any of the tribes here, including the one which is hosting us.  We discuss other things and dinner is served, while a show is presented.  Apparently this is a show of their version of the world history.  Once the show and dinner are over we proceed to sleep, setting up guards.  On my watch, with Six and Niff – Niff spots a group of drow.  Since they do not advance towards us we let it go – this is, after all, a drow village.

We wake up the following morning and have breakfast with Rezan.  She asks us about our plans, and when Nameless repeats his previous story, Rezan curiously leaves for a few minutes.  She comes back and suddenly attacks us!  A battle ensues, which catches us – as well as her guards – by surprise.  Rezan throws a bead of force at us and I narrowly dodge its powers which would have immobilized me.  We proceed into our well trained routine – Nameless casting spells to disable the area around our enemies – which sometimes hinders us as well.  Luna charging in, and Six working on tripping everyone while Corven provides us with initial support.  I proceed to hack away at other drow.  While we are outnumbered, we make up for it in sheer power and training – these drow are definitely under matched for us.  Rezan, in a last act, hurls a bead from her necklace of fireballs.  This blows up – doing a little damage to us, but then sets off a chain reaction as her allies – that also have such necklaces – start to explode.  The chain reaction causes a lot of damage, killing many drow and hurting us – and dropping Corven.  I proceed to Corven and provide him with some healing, to bring him up to walking status.  Nameless’ pseudo natural bison proceed to attack some of the other drow warriors.  The battle is over, very quickly, and unfortunately many have died – fortunately, it was not on our side.  On a side note, I wish Rezan did not attack us.  I understand her fears, but to attack us was foolhardy.

We collect our gear and some of the drow’s gear and walk to the wall.  I suggest we stay on the opposite side of the wall, resting there.  We would be close enough to hop back if trouble happens, but would be safe from the drow – which surely will get their neighboring tribesman.  We proceed with the expedition underway and as we travel we encounter little tiny dinosaurs who seem to follow us…something seems puzzling about them, and after looking at them I realize they mean us harm – I swing Kizmet  at one and it dodges my attack.  Then, out of nowhere, hundreds of them appear and begin to swarm us.  I swing at them, hitting but as one takes a hit, five more takes its place.  Nameless casts a spell of fly to get above the creatures, while Six leaps ups a tree.  Luna casts a flame strike spell and noticing myself being swarmed I leap up a tree and manage to climb it – in full plate.  Corven manages to make it up the tree, but slowly, and Nameless is flies down to get one of the porters…the other porter, unfortunately fell to the onslaught of the swarm.  Nameless summons more of his bison and they do a good job on the dinosaurs who cannot seem to do much – if any – damage to them.  After some rounds go by, the dinosaurs run away, being chased by the bison.

We travel for a while longer and we then make camp, finding a good spot.  We see an amazing sight – bats in the distance, large bats – the size of small ponies, but they get eaten by flying dinosaurs of some sort which are much bigger.  This land is strange, but there is much to explore here.  I have to say I am excited about heading into the dungeons of the scaled ones.  We go to sleep, and wake up the next day – refreshed and feeling good about continuing our journey.

Walking for a while, we notice Six taking a step or two, and then jumps ahead what we later calculate to be about four times the distance.  After spending some time we find this area has some weird time effect where things inside operate four times as faster then outside.  This might not be a bad place for us to rest, assuming time is of the essence.

Traveling a bit further we encounter some creatures that resemble trolls, though a bit shorter.  They attack us with javelins – which are heavily poisoned to sap our health.  A battle ensues, and I charge up the front – ducking behind trees so I will not present myself as a target.  Everyone is fighting and I cast a spell of bless to give our porters extra help in their attacks.  Just as I get to within striking distance, I see Nameless attacked from behind.  Now being surrounded by these trolls I charge back where I came from.  Nameless casts a stinking cloud which makes the trolls fall out of the trees they were hiding in.  I come up to one smiting it with all the might the Silver Flame can give me and gash it deeply.  Finally as the battle turns more and more our way, the Trolls begin to flee.

Unfortunately, this battle has left some of our number dead, including Collus and some porters.  We regroup ourselves, healing those who were drained – including me.  We prepare ourselves, allowing those to bury the dead.


----------



## shilsen

*Session 22 (1/28/06) - Fighting The Big Stuff (or "Why Haven't We Leveled? Why? WHY?!")*

While the poisoned people are healed, the adventurers check the six dead trolls. All of them carry the barest amount of clothing, consisting mainly of straps and bags made of dinosaur skin. Only one has something worth taking, a thick golden belt studded with diamonds. After examining it, Dala suggests that it was a giant's armband. Imre estimates it as worth 2 to 3,000 galifars, maybe more to a collector. The Angels discuss whether to follow the trolls that fled, but eventually decide not to.

Collus, Maura and the dead porter are buried nearby. The remaining six porters are understandably upset about the death toll on this trip, but unable to do much, since retreating would mean traveling across more than a dozen miles of forest alone. To mollify them slightly, Arrok has a significant amount of the provisions buried in a cache, so that the porters have less to carry and can move faster. He says that since the provisions were to ensure that they have enough to return, the expedition can safely do without and recover them on the way back. As the group continues, some can hear the porters muttering darkly, "IF we make it back."

As the group continues on, Six offers to scout a little distance ahead.  He says that there's a chance that he will detect dangerous creatures before they reach them, especially since Luna has trouble doing that (due to the multi-layered forest canopy) if she's flying overhead. Arrok agrees and Six takes point about fifty feet ahead of the group, moving as quietly and stealthily as he can. About half an hour later, he sees three carnivorous dinosaurs, all slightly taller than him but their long tails making them more than twice as long, heading towards the group. They have not detected him and seem more curious than hostile. Six drops back to warn the group and everyone stops, readying weapons just in case. 

The three dinosaurs emerge from the forest some sixty feet away, stopping to look at the party. Arrok says quietly, "Bigger version of the Talenta clawfoot," drawing attention to the big hooked talons on the dinosaurs' feet. These three do not seem threatening, and after some ten seconds of staring at the group, turn and disappear into the woods. After giving them a little time to get far enough away, Six returns to his position and they continue through the forest. 

The trail gradually ends. About an hour after it does, Six catches a glint of light on something a couple hundred feet away, which he soon sees to be a broken stone structure. He tells the others and the expedition quickly detours towards it. They find the structure to be the remnants of a stone floor and a 20 ft wide set of stone steps (of which only two steps and part of a third remain), each of which is three ft tall, with the remnants of the parapet on one side. The steps are cracked, with a large split between the top of the second step and the half-existent bottom of the third. A little searching reveals shorter shattered columns and pieces of stone in the area. 

Nameless casts a spell and _detect_s magic from within the split on the steps. He finds a magical adamantine dagger wedged within, sized for a user about ten feet or taller. It is extracted with some difficulty and found to be still usable, so Six carries it for the time being. Besides the dagger, they find no worthwhile artifacts in the area. Urden finds the bottom of a pillar with part of a word on it - "Pra'xi..." ("Pra'x" meaning "forest" in Giant). Luna flies around but finds no other such area, and the expedition continues.

Shortly afterwards, Luna warns that they are about to hit one of the large open spaces, about a mile in width. There are large dinosaurs out there, but not in the immediate vicinity. After some discussion, the group decides to travel across it as Arrok suggests, rather than take a huge detour. When they emerge from the forest, they find that the area is shaped like a bowl, with gentle slopes descending to about a hundred feet below the level of the forest floor. As they carefully and quickly proceed across it, Nameless and Six discuss whether it's natural or not. Six says, "I wonder if it's a giant's bowl" and stops to produce the adamantine dagger and dig it into the ground as deep as its blade will go. It doesn't hit anything, so he pulls it out and continues. 

Though they see some large dinosaurs in the distance, none of the creatures seem interested in them, and after half an hour the expedition passes into the trees on the far side of the open area. They proceed for another couple of hours, before deciding to make camp. As before, they pick an area where the ground drops and make camp at the bottom. Or prepare to. As they are in the process of doing so, a soft whispering sound reaches them, which turns into a haunting song.

Everyone experiences the song in a different way, but to each of them it is the saddest thing they could hear. Corven hears the sound of Cyrans dying on the day of Mourning, Gareth hears the weeping of his mother and grandmother at his father's grave, and Nameless ... well, Nameless probably hears tentacle soup being spilled somewhere. Luna shakes her head at the sound and says, "Hey - maybe this is that singing tree I heard about!" The opinion doesn't seem to get the hearing it deserves, as all around her, the other Angels and the members of the expedition quickly drop whatever they were doing, rise to their feet, and head into the forest in the direction of the sound. Luna, Arrok, Dala, Imre and one of the porters are the only ones who are unaffected.

After a few seconds of calling to the others and trying to physically stop them, which they discover is possible but difficult, Luna uses an _entangle_ spell to ensnare as many as she can. Nameless, Niff and most of the porters are affected, but Nameless and a couple of others quickly manage to extricate themselves and continue on. Arrok and Luna leave Dala, Imre and the porter to restrain the remaining ones if they escape, and hurry after the others.

That group manages to reach the source of the singing, which is a tall tree with dark-gray bark and strangely leafless branches. Six, the fastest of the group, is the first to reach it. As he walks up to it and gazes upwards, one of the branches swings downwards, clubbing him brutally on the head. This promptly ends the strange effect that the tree's singing had, but only upon him, as the others keep moving towards it. As Six dodges away from the tree, Urden and Corven reach it, followed by a couple of the porters. More branches lash out at them, knocking them into sensibility. At least Urden and Corven, that is, since the two porters are both smashed to the ground.

Racing up to the scene, Luna sees what's happening and yells to those conscious, "Use fire! Plants are weak against it!" She illustrates her point by calling down a _flame strike_. The tree actually tries to bend away from the blast but is too large to do so, and branches wither and bark chars under the magical inferno. Arrok fires a couple of arrows at it, but finds that they are ineffectual. He shouts to Luna, "Keep doing what you're doing," and turns to try and hold back those trying to get to the tree.

Nameless and Gareth are already too close for Arrok to stop and each of them suffers a heavy blow, which at least makes them recover their faculties. Near them, Urden tries to dodge away from the tree, but stumbles on a hidden root*. Before he can recover, a branch shoots down like a spear, impaling him to the ground. Corven, right next to him, decides that he can't get out of reach and pulls out a wand instead. He unleashes a _scorching ray_ that chars the tree's bark. 

While Luna begins to _call lightning_ down on the tree and Six abortively unleashes a series of arrows, Nameless backs off as far as he can and _summon_s three pseudonatural bison, which begin trying to butt and gore the tree. Their attacks draw its attention, as more branches smash down at them. Unfortunately, it has multiple branches, and another swings down at Corven. It slams him full-length into the ground, breaking bones and knocking him unconscious**. Gareth too takes a heavy blow as he retreats, but manages to get out of range and begins to heal himself.

Over the next few seconds, Luna lashes the tree with bolts of lightning and Nameless uses an _acid arrow_, while the bison keep attacking it, but the tree has incredible vitality, and it smashes the life out of two of the bison. This leaves one bison and the retreating Nameless as the only targets. Realizing that one blow will kill the already wounded mage, Luna (who has been yelling futilely at Gareth to get in there with his sword, only to be met with an "It'll kill me in one hit!") decides to take a considered risk and runs forward, waving her arms and yelling, "Come on, you ugly weed - I bet you can't hit me!"

Fortunately for Nameless but not for her, she apparently does catch the tree's attention. To the surprise of the watchers, it pulls a huge root out of the ground and places it in front of it, pivoting as if on a foot. Three huge branches swing down at Luna, all of them hitting. The druid is flung backwards, battered and broken***. The focus on Luna does, however, give Nameless an opportunity to fire off another volley of _magic missile_s, even as his earlier _acid arrow_ burns further into the plant and the bison slams into it one more time. The tree teeters and then keels over, barely missing some of the unconscious people.

Those still standing rush to those who are down and attempt to revive them. Urden is stone dead, as is one of the porters, but the other is barely revived, along with Corven and Luna. 

Nameless, having ordered the bison to keep battering the tree just in case, gives Gareth a dirty look and says, "How about healing them?" 

Seeing the look, Gareth asks in puzzlement, "What did I do?"

"Nothing - that's what!" snarls Nameless and stalks off to see to the others.

Once those still alive are revived and all the wounded are healed, the adventurers cautiously search the area. They find that the tree had actually walked (as the root impression show) to this point from an area a couple hundred feet away, which is piled with the bones of its past victims. These include a couple of skeletons that may have come from forest trolls and one giant-sized one. There is no useful equipment or treasure to be found, and the group quickly heads back to camp. Luna suggests camping near the now-dead tree, since creatures that know about it would be scared of approaching, but nobody wants to risk the chance that "maybe it has friends!"

Once they return to the camp, Urden and the dead porter are buried. Arrok seems a little more obviously upset than he has been with the previous deaths, saying that Urden was a reliable friend of his. He takes most of the drow's possessions, but offers the others use of some of his things, saying that Urden had no family and would have preferred the equipment to see some use. Six and Luna take one of the scimitars each, while Corven takes a Cloak of Protection.  

***
There are no more interruptions and the rest of the evening and night passes peacefully. Corven's homunculus, which has been working on Six's spiked chain (since the previous night) while the others are asleep, has completed enchanting it by dawn. The group soon breaks camp and heads out. Arrok asks Luna if she can take a couple of hours and fly as close to the mountain (which is now a little over fifteen miles away) as possible, specifically to look for structures and signs of habitation. She agrees, changes form into an eagle, and flies off.

The others continue on foot. After traveling for a little over an hour, they hear the sounds of loud bellowing (evidently from a number of huge creatures) and crashing trees off somewhere about 4-500 feet to their right. They quickly conceal themselves. The bellowing quickly devolves into screams of pain and is abruptly cut off. Six suggests that they remain where they are till Luna returns and can find out what it is, and they do so.

Luna, meanwhile, heads directly towards the mountain. On the way, she passes over the largest of the open spaces that she has seen, about 3 miles across and like a bowl set about 300-400 ft below the level of the forest. It is strangely formed, as if someone dug out huge chunks of the ground, leaving deep gullies and trenches. There is a lake about a quarter mile across in the middle. Despite the distance, she can see large dinosaurs there, as well as in other parts of the bowl. When she is almost across, she also catches sight of some large humanoid shapes in the distance. A quick detour reveals them to be seven large hill giants (though they seem larger and even uglier than hill giants she has seen or seen pictures of) stalking a herd of dinosaur. After watching them for a little bit, she heads on.

As she nears the mountain, Luna still sees no signs of any structures near it. When she is less than six miles from the mountain, she does notice something strange. Ahead of her are a few birds that appear to be perched in mid-air, floating a few feet above the tallest branches of the trees below them. They seem otherwise normal - or as normal as a bird floating in mid-air and preening itself can be. Luna flies closer, circling around to study the strange sight, and suddenly crosses an invisible barrier. Though the general sight in front of her remains the same, the details change a lot. Many of the trees are taller and it turns out that the birds she saw were actually sitting in the branches of trees that were masked by the illusion that seems to cover the area. Even more interestingly, Luna can now see a city sitting at the base of the mountain. It is about two miles across and despite the distance, she is sure that the buildings in it (which seem to be in ruins, though she can't be sure) are giant-sized. It is apparently inhabited, as indicated by a couple of thin plumes of dark smoke rising from it. 

Having found what she was looking for, Luna heads back to the group. As she goes, she notes that the illusion doesn't affect those within the area when looking out. Arriving back with the others, she finds them waiting for her. They explain what happened and she flies off to check. Some 400 ft from their position, she finds a number of knocked-down trees and the corpse of a large dinosaur, which has been killed by a series of very large bites. Huge chunks of meat are missing. A swarm of small carnivorous dinosaurs are feeding on it. Luna's doubts that they killed it are quickly confirmed, as a tyrannosaurus (also known as the swordtooth) comes charging out of the trees. The small dinosaurs flee as the huge reptile takes a big bite out of the corpse, rushing back as it turns away.

Luna heads back to join the others and changes shape so that she can report what she saw there and near the mountain. After her description, Corven and Nameless surmise that it is some sort of a _hallucinatory terrain_ spell, which can affect the appearance of natural terrain and artificial structures, but not living creatures. Nameless also points out that since the average _hallucinatory terrain_ would cover an area a few hundred feet long and wide and maybe sixty feet high, this is by far the largest one he's heard of.

The group continues, Luna now traveling in shifter form with them. Eventually, they reach the large open space she told them of. Picking one of the gullies that will get them across quickly but also not take them towards the center of the 'bowl', they quickly head across. When they are most of the way across, the adventurers hear thunder. It takes only a moment of looking up to see a complete lack of clouds, followed by the feel of the ground trembling and the sound of loud bellowing breaking out behind them to confirm what it is. "Dinosaur stampede!" yells Arrok, "Get the heck out of here!"

With little time to respond, if the thundering of huge dinosaur feet is any guide, people respond in various ways. While backing away as far as he can, Nameless quickly casts a web spanning the roughly thirty to forty foot width of the gully, some sixty feet from their position. "That'll slow them down!" he says, then snapping to the nearby porters, "Stay close - I'll get you out." Two of them comply, though clearly shaken. Three others are not as trusting, screaming in fear and running as fast as they can. Nameless quickly casts a _fly_ spell on one of the porters and says, "Get him out!" The porter immediately grabs the other and begins to rise upwards. 

Six and Arrok both rush to the rough rocky sides of the sixty foot deep gully and begin to climb as fast as they can, Six quickly outpacing the slower gnome. It's quite clear, however, that neither will reach the top before the dinosaurs get there. Gareth, after one look at the walls and another at his heavy armor, also rushes to the side. But instead of trying to climb, he tries to back into an indentation in the walls. Just in case, he casts a _shield of faith_ and throws in a quick prayer for good measure, followed by a shouted, "Someone throw down a rope!"

"Sure!" says Luna, changing form into an eagle. She soars up to the top and changes back again. As she does so, she also gets the first good view of what's thundering down towards the adventurers. Above the walls of the gully around the turn, she sees the long necks of a dozen brontosaurs, jostling for position and racing forward as only a panicked dinosaur can. The reason for their panic is not immediately evident, until a break in the gully wall reveals the sight of not one but two tyrannosaurs charging after them, jaws agape. Just to round off the tableau, a few pterosaurs fly in their wake, toothed beaks agape in excitement. "Oh bugger!" says Luna fervently, as she begins to pull a rope from her pack.

Still down in the gully, Imre has pulled out a potion and swigged it. "Grab hold!" she cries to Niff and seizes the gnome cartographer. Both of them begin to rise slowly upwards. Dala follows suit, using a potion of her own. Seeing them, Corven hurriedly pulls out a similar potion of _levitate_ that he has been carrying for weeks on end. He follows suit and begins to rise. It's only when he's a few feet off the ground that he remembers how slowly the spell works. Corven quickly begins to cast a _bear's endurance_ on himself, figuring he can use all the protection he can get. Close enough to both see and hear him, Gareth quickly follows suit. 

And this is the point when the first two brontosaurs turn the corner and hit the web. The magical obstruction creaks and stretches, holding for a few moments despite the fact that it isn't designed to take this kind of stress. A number of strands snap, but the web holds and the brontosaurs' momentum slows. For a couple of seconds, it looks like they might be stopped - until the rest of the brontosaurs pile into them from the rear. One brontosaur is actually knocked off its feet by the impact and a couple of others almost climb onto it, and the _web_ finally gives way. The watchers are treated to the sight of multiple tons of confused, terrified, bellowing dinosaur sliding through the gully like the world's largest cork being popped. With a chorus of moans, bellows and screams, the dinosaurs are upon them.

Or almost all of them. The seconds that the _web_ lasts is just enough for Nameless, having made his way as far down the gully as he could while casting his spells, to _summon_ a trio of pseudonatural creatures. He barely has enough time to mount one and as the dinosaurs come surging down the gully, the hippogriff soars out in the nick of time. The other two, at his command, pursue the fleeing porters. "They're here to help!" he yells after the porters, but with the distance and the noise he doubts they will hear. 

The others - except for Luna at the top - are not as lucky. Though they all try to take up as little space as possible, each is smashed against the gully's side to some degree, though that would count as being brushed by the creatures in passing. What is lucky for them is that they are all off the ground and above the bulk of the brontosaurs, so they are not actually squeezed into the gully's sides or stepped on. Other than Gareth, who sees a huge foot descending near him. He shoves himself as deep into the gully wall as possible, which stops the foot from more than brushing his shoulder, though that is enough to rattle his teeth. 

The sight of the dinosaurs passing below her are distracting enough for Luna, but quickly added to it is the fact that she seems to have caught the attention of two of the pterosaurs, which turn and fly in her direction. She hurriedly throws Gareth the rope and begins to cast a spell. It's only a second after she has begun that she realizes that in her hurry, she didn't actually anchor the rope before throwing it down. Gareth realizes it a moment later. As he looks up past thirty feet of rushing dinosaur, he sees the rope descend next to him. His happy "Yes!" is quickly cut off as the rest of the rope then hits him in the face, leading to a couple of comments that Cedric might have appreciated. His mood isn't improved as he looks beneath the huge legs of the brontosaurs and sees something Luna couldn't see from the gully top. A few clawfoot dinosaurs race along below the brontosaurs, snapping at them like excitable terriers. One of them spots him and charges at him. Luckily for him, as it hurls itself forward with talons raised, a brontosaur foot brushes its side, bruising it badly and sending it sliding off to the side. 

Above Gareth, the various levitating and flying people reach the gully top. Corven, nursing some bruised ribs and having had the singular experience of his life as well as four brontosaurs flash before his eyes, is among the first to do so. Seeing the two pterosaurs heading for them, he quickly pulls out his wand and begins to apply an infusion to double its power. The two porters, Dala, Imre and Niff also emerge nearby. Nameless is further along the gully, and he quickly dismounts and sends his hippogriff to join the other two in rescuing the porters.

Some distance below the gully top, both Arrok and Six have managed to hold on to the sides despite the battering they have taken. As they try to climb closer to the top, a chunk of rock that Six was holding onto comes off in his hand. He claws vainly at the surface and then drops. Luckily, his fall is cushioned by a passing brontosaurus. Six hits on its side and bounces off, desperately trying to hold on. He finally hits the ground, bruised and battered, and desperately rolls away from the huge feet pounding around him, though the bare touch of him slams him against the gully-side. A nearby clawfoot, apparently deciding that Six must be dinner from the sky, rushes towards him.

Meanwhile, on the gully top, both Luna and Corven dodge away from the pterosaurs, which squawk in disappointment and continue on. Before they can make another pass, Luna finishes her spell, _summon_ing three hippogriffs to surround and attack them. Corven, seeing what has just happened to Six, decides to go help him. Then, seeing what is about to pass by, he politely waits until each tyrannosaurus can pass by. Once they have, he steps off the gully top and begins to _levitate_ down.

The clawfoot that attacked Gareth still shows fight, leaping forward to slash him with his talons. Being stepped on has left it a little wobbly, however, and Gareth cuts it down with Kizmet. Six, realizing that after the fall he is in no condition to fight, pulls out a potion. Before he can drink it, the clawfoot is on him in a flurry of teeth and claws, and he slumps to the ground, unconscious. The clawfoot hesitates for a moment, apparently having found his combination of wood, metal and fibres somewhat unappetizing, and that's just enough time for Corven. He levels his wand and fires, sending two _scorching ray_s through its head, killing it instantly. Corven then descends to the gully floor and revives Six.

With the dinosaurs far enough away (though the sounds indicate that the tyrannosaurs have managed to kill at least one brontosaur), the expedition-members quickly fall to healing. Amazingly, not one of them has been killed, with the three fleeing porters having reappeared, struggling and screaming in the grasp of the hippogriffs. The creatures drop them near Nameless and fly off to join Luna's summoned creatures in dealing with the pterosaurs. Once everyone is healed, the group quickly descends into the next gully, hurrying to exit this area as soon as they can. As they leave, Nameless points out to the porters how much effort he had to put in to save them and suggests that they stick close to him and follow directions next time. 

***
In comparison to being caught in a dinosaur stampede, the rest of the day's travel is completely uneventful. By the time the group makes camp, they are only about a mile from the border of the _hallucinatory terrain_ and four miles from the giant city's outskirts, Luna estimating that they will reach it around noon the next day. As usual, the group makes camp near the bottom of a slope, picking a spot that gives you a little space between the bottom of the slope and the trees.

Shortly after they have made camp, most of them hear the sounds of multiple large creatures moving through the trees towards the camp. The expedition-members either back away and ready weapons or conceal themselves as well as they can in the undergrowth. Except for Gareth and two of the porters, whom he is giving a crash course in the worship of the Silver Flame. The three of them are too engrossed in the conversation and only realize something is afoot when they look around to find half the expedition apparently missing and the others pointing crossbows at the forest. 

Gareth just has time to rise and say, "What...?", when a hulking shape emerges from the trees. It resembles a hill giant, but stands close to one and a half times as tall, and is significantly deformed, with a twisted face and one hunched shoulder higher than the other. It wears a chain shirt and carries a club that is the size of a small tree. Three more, slightly shorter, figures move through the shadows behind it.

The prepared adventurers hold their fire, just in case the giants are not hostile, but the hope is quickly dispelled. The giant raises a trunk-like arm and points at Gareth and the others visible in the middle of the camp and bellows a word, which Corven and others translate as either "Food!" or "Poop!" Presuming it's the former, the group promptly unleashes a hail of weapons and spells on the creatures. 

Arrows hit a number of the giants, though they seem to have little effect. More troublesome for them is the _fog cloud_ that Luna drops around them, which is followed by a _black tentacles_ spell from Nameless. Though the others cannot see it, the grunts of surprise and pain from within the mist signify to its efficacy. 

While the others reload or move closer, Luna casts another spell, creating a _spike growth_ in the area around the _cloud_. Her action is timely, as the big giant rushes out of the cloud. It promptly stumbles into the spikes, and with a howl of pain, rushes through the area. Gareth, running forward to attack it, takes a blow from the club that rocks him from head to toe. The three other giants also emerge a moment later, to step on the _spike growth_ and also be surrounded by a _glitterdust_ from Nameless. Two of them are blinded, taking them out of the fight, and one of them is lamed too. 

The remaining giant manages to resist being blinded but by the time it makes its way through the spikes, it is hobbling. With a cry of rage, it rushes at Corven, who has just blasted it with his wand. Corven's cries of "No, no - not me! Look at the big armored guys!" apparently doesn't convince it and he barely avoids being crushed to the ground by a blow that leaves him bruised and battered.

Arrok and Six have been sniping with great effectiveness all this time and they focus their fire on the giant threatening Corven. The porters, Dala, Imre and Niff have also been doing their part with their crossbows, and with the two blind giants blundering off (one of whom wanders back into the _tentacles_****) after having been blasted by a _fireball_ from Nameless, they switch to the two remaining targets too. While Luna uses _produce flame_ and hurls bolts of fire, Nameless further _summon_s two pseudonatural bison to attack the giant facing Gareth. 

The big giant seems very surprised at the appearance of the creatures and Gareth seizes the opportunity to smite it with all his strength and the power of the Silver Flame. Badly wounded, the creature bellows in anger and brings down its club with all its strength  - on Kizmet. There is a tinny sound and the sword shatters, leaving only a hilt-shard in Gareth's hand. As he screams in anger, the giant turns and smashes one of the bison.

Across the clearing, Corven realizes he is too close to escape and levels his wand at point-blank range, blasting the giant looming over him. It screams in rage and swings, hitting Corven amidships. Ribs crack as he is lifted off his feet and hurled backwards, landing in a heap ten feet away. The giant promptly turns to flee.

The giants' momentary triumphs are completely transient. More spells and arrows slam into them, as do the two bison, and they both collapse. An angry Gareth uses the remaining fragment of Kizmet to dispatch the one next to him, having to literally saw its huge throat open. 

As Luna rushes to heal Corven and the others move forward to ensure that the giant stuck in the _black tentacles_ is dead, Gareth picks up the fragments of Kizmet. Once he has collected them, he asks Six if he can try using the magical adamantine dagger they found, to see if its magic helps heal Kizmet. Luna, having got Corven back on his feet, offers Urden's scimitar too. Gareth places the two in contact with Kizmet, before placing the pieces of Kizmet in order. As the others watch curiously, he places his hands on them and prays to the Flame.

There is no change in the other weapons, but there is a short flash of light and the pieces of Kizmet gradually knit together. As they do so, Gareth feels the same draining sensation that he had when first doing this, after the sword had been sundered by Desro. The feeling is stronger this time. As he picks up the now complete sword, Gareth feels a dim sense of relief. It takes him a couple of seconds to realize it, but the emotion is not his own. As far as he can tell, the sword in his hands is relieved, and he can feel it.

* Also known as John cursing him so that I rolled a 1.
** Well past -10 - the first time for Corven.
*** Took her from completely healed and 75 hp to below -10; also a first for Luna.
**** Poor guy was shot, sneak attacked, burned, blind, lame (down to 1/8 speed!) and grappled.


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar:

Session 22 - January 28, 2006

We finish up with the battle and heal our numbers, as well as search the bodies of our dead prey.  We gained a giant’s armband, worth a lot of money, but we also had some deaths – Collus and Maura, plus a dead porter.  That is a travesty – these were not combatants, but scholars who were on an exploration for knowledge.  We redistribute our supplies, including burying some of our supplies, since the porters cannot carry everything.

We continue along our path, and eventually find some big hooked talon tracks.  According to Arrok, it looks like a Talenta clawfoot, only bigger.  We eventually come to some ruins and we search around.  Nameless casts his detect magic, and even I even perform a detect evil.  We find a magical adamantine dagger that is sized for a giant.  We give it to Six to hold, though I would imagine it is quite unwieldy for any of us.  We travel some more, and go through a huge crater, which provides some interesting banter for Six and Nameless.

Eventually, after a long day of traveling, we make camp.  Later that night – I wake up, and I hear a sad song – it reminds me of my mother and grandmother – when we buried my father.  I am not sure where this song comes from, but I head towards it.  Who or what hear could possible know the sadness I experienced at this funeral?  Maybe they can help me, maybe they have magically contacted my father and he wants to pass a message to me.  I travel onward, and for some reason things try and get in my way.  Something tries to entangle me, but it will not hold me down.  I must find what is causing me this sad memory – what message is trying to come across to me.  Finally I reach a gigantic tree, and cannot help but stand there and listen to the sad tale.  I try and converse with it, but it does not respond – it just sings to me, and I want to cry.  Then, as I do not think something can get any sadder I get smashed in the face by a branch.  I was charmed, how I do not know, but I retreat, and get hit again – just barely standing, only because I healed myself before I moved.  I get out of the way of the tree, knowing that melee combat with it will prove futile.  Spells start to fly, and I realize this battle is not something I can contribute to.  The awesome blows of this creature are too much for me to handle and ranged attacks are the only method we can use…unfortunately, as I have seen – Six’s arrows are bouncing harmlessly off the creature.  Luna and Nameless all start hurling spells.  Eventually, after many spells, the tree collapses.  We go and heal people – though Urdern and one of the porters died.  Nameless starts berating me for not entering the combat – but I guess he would have preferred if I walked in and got killed in one hit.  I saw the creature hit Luna – that hit would he killed me as it almost killed her.  We head back to camp and bury the dead as well as go back to sleep.

After traveling we encounter some more sounds, creatures fighting each other – but at least they are not fighting us, so we hide and let nature take its course.  We eventually encounter a large gully, that Luna found, and we go inside that way.  We hear a loud noise, almost like a heard only to find out as Arrok screams it is a dinosaur stampede.  Nameless starts casting web to hopefully hold the stampede or slow them down.  I ask him to cast fly on myself so I can get the porters out of here, but instead he casts fly on the porters – which I question.  They are unreliable, in my opinion, and how much can each of these porters carry.  Six climbs out of the crevice and Corven uses a potion of levitate.  Luna is off flying somewhere, so I am left down below with a couple of porters.  I look for a niche in the wall and try and flatten myself, casting shield of faith and shouting to someone to get me a rope.  I then feel a rope being thrown at me, unfortunately, Luna threw the entire rope.  Seeing the hopeless position I am in, I cast bears endurance to give myself some extra health.

I then see an amazing sight, two gigantic dinosaurs charge head first into the web knocking them off balance and causing a cascade effect as other dinosaurs run into them.  I then get clipped by a dinosaur, luckily not squashed, but still a pretty good hit.  And then, I see something even worse, some clawfoot dinosaurs – small dinosaurs – that get very hungry come jumping towards me.  The first clawfoot gets stepped on by a bigger dinosaur.  It then recovers and comes at me again, but I slice at it with Kizmet.  Note: At this point I am in serious trouble.  Without any allies, if I get surrounded by anymore of these little dinosaurs I will not make it.  Luckily, the stampede – by this point – passed us.  We recover our numbers and I found out the true reason why Nameless casted those spells on the porters instead of me.  He is trying to curry some special favor with them.  This is confusing on a number of different levels.  While the porters are helpfully at what they do, they offer very little in the way of combat prowess – not to mention they cannot heal, and let us not forget – Nameless and I are group mates.  I am a bit more reliable then a hired porter when it comes to helping the group.  I remember Nameless trying to gain control over Zeke a while back – is Nameless trying to dominate people and becomes some lord?  This is something worth keeping an eye on. Megalomania has no place in this world – it leads to evil.  We got lucky without casualties, and continued on our path.

Going along we encounter an area of magical illusion.  It is a large area, according to Nameless larger then what a spell of this type is normally.  Whoever casted this spell must have used some great magic.  We are close to the city and decide it is best to camp now, and get to the city refreshed in the morning.

At night, I am giving some of the porters a lesson about the Silver Flame.  I eventually notice the rest of the group is not around and as I stand up to look for the group I see a giant walking in.  I tell the porters to stand back, but do not attack – just in case the giants are non-hostile.  The giants begin to shout in their language and Corven says they are calling us food.  We go into battle – with spells flying – Nameless and Luna start to disable their targets with area spells that blind and hamper movement.  Impressive!  I charge forward to attack one of the giants, and he hits me once before I get to him. Then Nameless gives me some support by throwing two of his pseudonatural bison at the giant I am fighting.  As the creature is distracted, I smite it with all my strength and divine might doing considerable damage.  This creature, cries in pain and then turns to me.  I have a feeling he would kill me, but then he smashes down on Kizmet – shattering it to pieces!! Not again!  I scream in anger, and the giant turns and ignores me for the bison.  Then the giant goes down, and I ensure it’s death by stabbing the remains of Kizmet into it’s throat.

As the group goes to make sure the other giants are dead, I gather Kizmet and carefully put it together, assembling the pieces on the ground – the porters look at me oddly.  I then place my hands upon it, praying to the Silver Flame to grant the same miracle as it did once before.  My hands start to glow, and Kizmet forms back on itself – I am exhausted – a lot more then the last time.  It feels as if more of my souls has been sucked from me – but Kizmet is whole and it seems stronger then before.
I grab Kizmet and I feel a sensation of relief, but it takes me a moment and I realize the sensation is not my own, but of Kizmets!  It feels now, and I can tell that it feels!  Kizmet is sentient.


----------



## shilsen

*Session 23 - Pra'xirek (or "A plan? You want us to actually have a plan?")*

While Gareth tries to mentally communicate with his sword and discovers that it apparently hasn't developed conversational skills yet, the others take care of healing everyone and examining the dead giants. They find that the largest one's chain shirt is finely crafted and remove it, since Dala says that it will be valuable. The giant also carries a brass cup the size of a bucket with inset opals. Imre estimates it to be originally worth about 1,000 galifars, but it is quite battered and now about half as valuable. The cup detects faintly of conjuration magic. Another giant is wearing a platinum ring engraved with a leaf pattern (worth about 2000 galifars). Between the three, they have four silver coins the size of the one recovered from the drow and another golden one. All five have a stylized picture of a tree and a tower above it. Dala and Imre surmise that by the system of symbology that the giant's used in their art, it would mean something like "the house of/in the forest". 

While searching them, the Angels also notice that the bigger giant has a tattoo on his left shoulder, depicting a serpent wrapped around a gem (probably a dragonshard). Both Corven and Nameless recognize it as something they have seen in a book, which said it is supposed to represent the dragons of Argonessen.  

After having taken what they want off the bodies, the expedition decamps, moving a few hundred feet away from the corpses. After they have remade the camp and started on supper, Six discusses the giant attack, pointing out that the alacrity with which the giants attacked, rather than showing any surprise at their appearance, implies that the giants have experience of humanoid-shaped creatures of their size. They also discuss what to do when they reach the city, some thinking that it would help to find a place near it to hole up and then investigate carefully.

***
The next morning, a couple of people mention a dream they had. It turns out that everyone in the group (except Six, who can't sleep) had a dream where a faint voice was speaking to them from a distance. They saw nothing and its words were unclear, but they realized that it was asking them to free it from its captors and promising great rewards. Though Gareth does not mention it to the others, he had a variation. In his dream, he saw Kizmet appear, floating in mid-air and glowing. He sensed great fear and anger in the blade and the voice faded away.

While they discuss the dream, Nameless identifies the magical cup. It turns out to be what the group quickly names a Bucket of Beer, which fills up with a gallon of strong beer thrice a day. "Oh well," says Corven at the news, "At least we have a backup if we ever need to retire and open a bar!"

The group breaks camp and heads out. About ten minutes later, they run across the corpse of a giant, evidently the one that had managed to survive the battle the previous night. It has been slain by multiple wounds, some from slashing and some from piercing weapons, evidently manufactured ones around the size that the group carry. The body has been stripped of equipment other than the hide armor and the greatclub. Six and Arrok cast around for tracks, and they agree that whoever or whatever it is that slew the giant had taken care to remove tracks. Six does find a partly obscured print of what is probably a boot-print form a humanoid the size of a human being.

The group continues on, traveling for an hour before crossing the hallucinatory terrain barrier. The difference between the illusion and the reality is much more obvious at ground level, making it clear that the scene depicted is sparser than the level of vegetation in the forest currently. Continuing on, it takes them another three hours to reach the edge of the city.

The forest ends right on the edge of the city, and the adventurers carefully look out and study the area. The city is about two miles across. The buildings are clearly giant-sized, though most are in ruins, with only a few dozen mostly intact. The largest one is in the center, standing about two hundred feet in height and separated from the rest by a wide space. This one is in reasonably good shape, though it seems like the sides are broken, as if it were originally part of a larger building. Unlike the rest of the stone construction, it has a large metal dome at the top, with small metal protuberances. The entire city has a huge crevasse around it, about 200 ft wide. A single stone bridge (about 30 ft wide) crosses it. There was evidently a wall on the inner side, which is in pieces now. Just as Luna had done earlier, they see smoke rising from a couple of places in the city. 

The group stands around and discusses their options for entering the city, until suddenly interrupted. A voice from behind them says in accented elven, "Impressive, isn't it?" The speaker, a drow, steps out of the trees nearby. He is tall and muscular, with large white tattoos on body and face, as some in the group know Xen'drik drow tend to use. Unlike the drow outside the wall, his equipment is finely made. He wears a fine chain shirt, with small chitin us plates attached to the shoulders and upper chest. A coiled chain weapon hangs by his side, like the spiked chain Six uses, but without spikes and with a long blade at each end.

Though wary, the adventurers greet him, with those who understand elven translating. He introduces himself as Ek'ann, of the Ka'ki'kur clan. Arrok comments that it's unusual for Xen'drik drow to provide their family and clan names, Ek'ann's lack of response indicating that he doesn't understand the common tongue either. 

A discussion ensues, with Ek'ann expressing interest in the group, saying that they must be from beyond the island. He says that though his people have never traveled beyond it, they know that there are "worlds beyond", unlike the "savages" beyond the wall, whom he seems dismissive of. He says that the city "Pra'xirek" (which translates to 'forest home' in giantish) belonged to his people as friends and servants of the Guardians, but they are now dispossessed by the giants. When they ask, he says that the Guardians are dragons, though only one is left. He dissuades the group from entering the city since they will be killed, saying that the local giants are quite violent. Nameless hazards a guess and says that they realized that since they fought some yesterday, though Ek'ann already knows that. Ek'ann admits that one of their patrols did notice the fight and slay the last giant, but he says those giants did not come from the city. He suggests they talk to the clan-leader Ghyrra, who will tell them more about everything.

The group quickly agrees, with a couple being surprised that Gareth says they shouldn't distrust Ek'ann just because those outside the wall proved untrustworthy. Dala and Arrok are both a little wary, but say they agree to go along. Once they agree, Ek'ann turns and claps his hands, causing five more drow to emerge from hidden places in the forest some sixty feet away. None of the adventurers are really surprised. Ek'ann comments that it is dangerous to be alone here, and then leads them towards the mountain, having said that their lair is at its base.

As they go, Gareth scans them and comments that two of them are evil, causing Nameless to ask whether water is wet. They continue to talk along the way. Six examines Ek'ann's chain weapon and finds that it works a lot like his own chain. Ek'ann comments at one point that it is interesting that they have "metal men" too, indicating Six, which interests the warforged a lot. When asked, he says that though there were never many here, the giants did have some metal men and were planning to build more. They were useful against the quori and their ability to manipulate dreams, since they did not sleep, and they were also used against the elves when they revolted. Nameless, Dala and Six discuss how valuable this information could be back in Khorvaire, considering the theories about the origin of the warforged in Xen'drik, especially if they can find material proof of it. 

The group has gone most of the way around the city when some strange creatures appear over the side of the crevasse near them. Six of them are dolgrims, like those the Angels had fought in Sharn, with their squat bodies, doubled heads, and four arms. These have thick greenish-black scales on their bodies, unlike the ones in Sharn. Levitating out of the crevasse behind them is another creature, looking like a male drow to the waist and having the body of a scorpion below. "Drider!" shouts Arrok upon seeing it.

"Dolgrim!" cry the drow warriors instantly, charging the creatures as they climb over the crevasse's lip and slashing at them with long knives. Though a couple hit, the dolgrims' scales seem resistant to damage. From behind them, the drider calls out (interestingly enough, in the common tongue), saying, "Join with us. The drow will betray you. Work with the Three and we will reward you."

Nameless' response is to summon three bison. At his command, the two that can reach the dolgrim promptly rush forward and butt them into the air. The two startled dolgrim scream and wave their arms as they describe a short arc and disappear into the depths. Their screams fade away, with no sound of hitting bottom. 

The drider says again, "We are offering you another opportunity. Join us!" Evidently not trusting the group's restraint, it casts a spell, creating a fog cloud that envelops much of the group. Gareth and Corven, still outside the area, move up but are unable to affect anyone, Gareth because the drow are in the way and Corven because he, as ever, fails to activate his wand. Ek'ann and Six both move out of the fog cloud and strike at the dolgrims with their chain weapons, Ek'ann actually wounding one while Six fails to trip another.

The four remaining dolgrim reveal a hidden ability, opening their mouths and vomiting streams of slime at those around them. With the various overlapping streams, everyone nearby is hit and feels the slime burn them. The effect also stuns many, including all of the drow except Ek'ann, as well as two of the bison. 

Arrok and Luna quickly provide reinforcements, emerging from the fog cloud too and moving towards the fight. Nameless, on the other hand, figures that the fog cloud is good protection and remains within, simply summoning two hippogriffs, which attack the flying drider, one wounding it. Evidently not considering them a threat, the drider ignores them and casts a fireball, which scorches many of its enemies. 

Despite its magical aid, the fight quickly goes against the dolgrim. Gareth shoves past a stunned drow and cuts one in half with two powerful swipes. Six trips another and wounds it, allowing the bison near him to finish the job of treading it into the ground. Ek'ann and Arrok combine to drop another. Corven finally gets his and to work and blasts the drider with a scorching ray, while Luna hits it with a bolt of call lightning.

With Nameless deciding to emerge from the cloud and add a volley of magic missiles, the wounded drider tries to take out its enemies via a method besides spells, moving forward (and being wounded by another hippogriff in the process) to vomit a much larger cone of slime over Nameless, Luna and Corven. Unfortunately for it, though all of them are hurt, they remain on their feet. Luna lashes the drider with another lightning bolt, and as it staggers, Corven hits it right in the face with a scorching ray. 

With an anguished scream, it plummets downwards. A last cry of "You are fools! You will have to face the Threeeee..." fades into the depths with it. Nameless thinks for a moment and gives a command in the tongue-twisting language of the daelkyr. A momentary look of bovine surprise crosses the bison's faces, followed quickly by a combination of irritation and resignation. They charge toward the edge and leap out, before plummeting downwards in the same general area as the drider. "That's gonna hurt!" says Nameless with a satisfied smile, turning away from the edge.

Nearby, Ek'ann, Arrok and Six have finished off the last dolgrim, while Gareth has disengaged to heal himself. The group looks around at their enemies but have little time for celebration. A large boulder arcs over and slams into the wall of the crevasse, close to the group. Looking across, they can see a couple of large figures preparing to hurl more rocks. The group instantly heads into the forest, avoiding the couple of rocks that come their way. Nameless yells a command to the hippogriffs, sending them off to distract the giants.  

Once they are safely away, Ek'ann leads them on towards the mountain, commenting only that the giants normally don't stay this close to the wall, but their fight and all the magical effects must have attracted some. As they go, the others ask about the Three. He says that they are a trio of mindflayers that have emerged from the depths of the crevasse recently, with a number of aberrations, and have been attacking both the drow and the giants. They are interested in freeing the Bound One, or so the drow believe. When asked about it, he says only that the Bound One is a creature that came here thousands of years ago and was bound by the dragons, but Ghyrra should be the one to talk about it. He also mentions that the Three can apparently affect creatures in some strange way by drilling holes in their brains and inserting a type of slime, which allows them to control them from a distance and see through their eyes. There was a small tribe of driders nearby, which were slain by the Three, with the drider attacking them being an example. This account explains the small holes in the heads of both the drider and the dolgrims that some of the adventurers had noticed while fighting them.

The group eventually reaches the mountain, which the trees abruptly stop short of. Ek'ann leads them to a set of concealed cave-entrances. Taking them past the curious guards at the entrance, he leads them down to the home of the drow, which consists of a huge complex of interlocking caves. After a sparse entrance area, they are quite well appointed and decorated with paintings, carvings and tapestries. Most of them depict giants, dragons and drow. While the giants and drow are shown in various situations, the dragons are almost always simply depicted singly on an ornate background or shown battling giants. One picture shows figures that resemble warforged, fighting on the side of giants against the drow.

As they proceed deeper into the complex, the group passes more drow, with Ek'ann deflecting all questions with a quick "They need to be taken to Ghyrra." In one large tunnel, they pass a pair of drow accompanied by two scorpions the size of big dogs, with a single specimen the size of a cow following behind. Nearby, they hear growling speech from behind a large door, which sounds like "Me hungry!" in bastardized giantish. When asked, Ek'ann says that it is a cave troll, a couple of which the drow have fighting for them.

Eventually, Ek'ann brings the group to a large, well-furnished chamber, containing a number of armed drow. At the end of the room is a large stone seat carved in the shape of a giant scorpion, where a short and slender drow woman is sitting. Ek'ann introduces her as Ghyrra, the leader of the Ka'ki'kur. She greets the group and asks them to make themselves comfortable. Once they have and she has sent for food and drink, she has a lot of questions about who they are. Like Ek'ann, she seems to know something about the world beyond the island, admitting that it is mainly because of magic and because of what the Guardians told her people. When Nameless asks who the Guardians are, Ghyrra begins to relate the history of the island, adding sections as the adventurers raise more questions. The explanation takes a long time, since she speaks no common, and those who understand elven must translate her story, as well as any questions that are asked.

Ghyrra says that Pra’xirek was one of the few outposts outside Xen'drik that the giants had just built when the Quori war occurred. The giants had planned for the city to be at the center of the island, which would also have a couple of ports and would be a stopping point for long sea voyages. However, the one port was destroyed in the war and the others were never made. When the elves here rebelled (upon learning that their compatriots in Xen'drik had), the giants prepared to use the magics they had used against the quori. They were destroyed by the dragons, though many giants fled into the forest and lived there, slowly descending into savagery. The dragons rebuilt the defensive wall the giants had begun, leaving the drow tribes on the outside. A family of dragons, who were sages and studied the stars, remained in Pra'xirek. They allowed one tribe of drow, who'd fought bravely against the giants, to live with them. These were the Ka'ki'kur. They lived in the city, as allies of the dragons, whom they called the Guardians. 

 Then, 9,000 yrs ago (which Nameless, Corven and Dala realize matches well with the Daelkyr invasion of Khorvaire), a strange creature from beyond the world invaded the island with an army. It slew a number of dragons, but the survivors managed to trap it using their magic (thus naming it the Bound One). Its army was destroyed, the few survivors fleeing into the mile-deep crevasse around the city. As centuries passed, the few surviving dragons began to show signs of strange behavior. They stopped returning to their homeland, which they had used to do. They also became paranoid, talking perpetually about the Bound One (saying it was speaking to them) and about some prophecy. They became suspicious of the drow and eventually drove them out, going so far as to bring some of their old enemies - the giants - back into the city. 

That is the way it has been for the last two thousand years. The drow were forced to flee into the caves and watch the giants inhabit the city. From the caves, they would clash with the giants whenever possible. The few remaining Guardians, now warped by malice and the effects of the Bound One (or so the drow surmise), would sometimes fight for the giants. But gradually, the older ones died out, till there were only two left. The older and stronger one died in the last open battle that the drow dared to fight, devastating what remained of the city and slaying most of the greatest of the drow warriors and spellcasters. Now, only the last Guardian, named Tyrass, remains. He never leaves the central palace any more. 

Ghyrra says that the drow have been plotting an attack for a long time, but have not acted yet, because they might be able to defeat the giants (of which there must be thirty or more) or the Guardian if they could face them individually, but not both together. An added wrinkle is that the Three have recently appeared, a trio of mindflayers that skulk in the depths and send their minions to harass the drow and/or the giants. Another reason they were waiting, Ghyrra says, is that their seers have foreseen that help would come from beyond the ocean, to "wash away the taint from Pra'xirek". The adventurers must be these people. She says that if they help the drow fight the giants and the Guardian, the drow will be very grateful and will pay them with magic and historical artifacts from the city. As a token, she gives each of the expedition-members a golden disk with a dragonshard embedded in it. 

Along with the disks, the drow bring food and drink. As they are eating and drinking, Dala comments that it's probably not a good idea to ask what the meat they're eating is. Once they are done, Ghyrra suggests that they talk it over among themselves. Either way, they should stay the night here, since it is one of the "nights of memory" and they will see something that she can promise they have never seen before.

She has the group taken to a pair of large rooms where they can rest and talk. Dala is all for helping the drow, while Arrok is somewhat suspicious of them. Imre, Niff and the porters generally don't care, but many are uncomfortable about the drow. The Angels are unusually unanimous in their decision to help, at least partly because (as Nameless points out) if the Bound One is a daelkyr, the last thing they could possibly want is for one of those to be loose, especially near them. Gareth comments that though most of the drow are not evil, Ghyrra is, so the group should be careful how much they trust them. Arrok adds that if they do help, the porters, Imre, Niff and Dala should stay out of harm's way. Dala promptly refuses, saying she's the one who organized this expedition and is "not missing any of the fun".

After some time, Ghyrra and a few others come to tell them that it is time to see what she promised. The Angels tell her that they have agreed to help, which pleased her immensely. While leading them through the tunnels, she says that there are passages under the city that are still in existence. When the giants ruled the city, the elves were not allowed to walk in certain parts of the city, and would access have to them underground. The giants can't travel through the tunnels since they're too small, and though they've tried and managed to destroy some, much remains. The drow can use them to get the group far into the city, whether to places from which they can attack giants or almost to the central palace. Ghyrra adds that the Three have burrowed into the tunnels and sometimes unleash strange creatures in there to incommode the drow, but they don't usually utilize the tunnels.

Eventually, the group emerges onto the mountainside, through a tunnel some 200 ft above the one they entered through. It is night outside, but there are lights glowing above the city. As they watch, the lights expand into scenes that begin as misty shapes and gradually develop into perfect clarity. Ghyrra says they show visions from the battles between the giants and the dragons. It is a fascinating sight, as if a number of brilliant illusionists were at work simultaneously. At one point, a cloud giant wrestles a dragon. Elsewhere, a squad of giants hurl spells, bringing down a dragon, before three more descend upon them with fangs and claws flashing. A higher vision reveals a flight of half a dozen dragons, soaring through the air and breathing streams of dragon-fire as they go. If the visions were not completely soundless, they might seem as if the watchers were actually present during the battle, rather than watching moments of an age nearly 40,000 years old. Ghyrra comments that the drow have no idea why the scenes occur, but once every month they do.

The other thing that the group notices is that the palace has changed. The metal dome on the roof is now a raised globe over a hundred feet across, standing at the top of a 20-ft wide, metallic shaft. The protuberances on it are glowing softly. Ghyrra says that it is the Guardians' observatory, which they build some time after coming to Pra'xirek. Tyrass must be within, studying the stars as he is wont to do, especially on the nights of memory.

Luna promptly says, "I want to fly over and try to see the dragon." Her comment is met by various responses, ranging from, "Are you sure that's a good idea?" through "You're kidding, right?" up to "Are you fricking NUTS?!" Corven and Nameless, both of whom have read a significant amount of lore about dragons, hasten to explain to Luna about the amazingly sharp senses dragons have, how quickly they can fly, and the dangers of encountering a creature warped by close proximity to a bound daelkyr. Six points out that there are no birds in the area around the globe, presumably scared away by the visions appearing and disappearing in the air. Gareth says that if she is noticed and attacked, the group will not be able to reach her at all, leave alone help in any way.

Once they are done explaining, Luna looks around at them, and then says, "I still want to try it." As various palms smack foreheads around her, she changes form into a falcon and rises into the air, arrowing towards the globe. As she goes, Ghyrra comments to Corven, "Your friend is very brave - or foolish." Corven nods in a resigned manner and says, "Both!"

As Luna darts over the city, she notes that firelight is visible through windows and cracks in the roof of some of the buildings, indicating the presence of giants there. No giants are out on the streets, although a large head protrudes momentarily from a window or two, as giants look out at the visions in the air. 

Reaching the globe, Luna finds that its surface is covered with large triangular metal sections. The protuberances are now revealed to be large lenses made of a translucent crystal, lit by both the visions outside and a glow from within. Each crystal is set in its own metal section, with Luna estimating there are twelve or thirteen in all. She comes to a landing near one and cranes her neck to peer in.

The crystal makes details unclear, but she is able to make out some details. The room she is looking into takes up the entire top half of the globe. It is currently occupied by a large reptilian form, which must be anywhere from thirty to forty feet from nose to tail-tip. The dragon Tyrass moves around the chamber, peering out of one crystal and then another. Sometimes, he stops to pull on large levers that are attached to the curved sides of the room. As he pulls each lever, one or more of the metal sections slides over or under an adjoining one, changing the alignment of the lenses. At one point, Luna has to do a quick sidestep to avoid having her tail feathers caught in one such sliding section. Ghyrra had said that Tyrass was originally silver in color but had begun changing. Luna notes that the dragon is mostly a dark gray in color, with only streaks of silver still marking its form. Although the crystal lenses make it difficult to be sure, she thinks she also sees large open sores on parts of its body.

Having carefully studied the dragon and deciding not to push her luck, Luna leaps into the air and flies back. She thinks for a moment that the dragon lifted its head at the motion, but can't be sure, and there is no alarm raised. Within a few minutes, she is back with her companions at the mountain. She quickly reports what she saw. Ghyrra suggests they return within and the group does so.

Once they are back near the rooms they have been given, Ghyrra then bids the group goodbye, thanking them again for their promised aid. She wishes them a good night and leaves. The adventurers spend a long time discussing options and exactly what it is that they are going to do. Ideas and strategies range from attacking a few giants at a time to weaken them, to charming a bunch of dinosaurs from the forest, shrinking them down and taking them through the tunnels to attack the dragon, to sneaking into the palace and going after the dragon while the drow attack the giants, to heading into the palace vaults (where Ghyrra said there are likely to be powerful magical items left from the giants or made by the dragons) and trying to recover items to use against the dragon. 

Another area of concern is the question of sleep, with many fearing that the Bound One might affect them through their dreams (everyone is certain that's what spoke to them earlier). After discussing many options and realizing there just isn't any magical protection that will last all night, they reluctantly head to bed. Six, who is beginning to believe that half the problems with the other species comes because they sleep, keeps a very careful eye on them. He notices a couple move their lips at times as they sleep, but nothing really suspicious happens.

***
When they awake the next morning, the adventurers realize that all of them had exactly the same dream as before, with the voice asking them to release it and promising them many things in return. Nameless, who spent some time in the dream swearing at the voice in daelkyr, is fairly confident that it is unable to affect them now, though he's not sure whether that is a permanent situation.


----------



## shilsen

*Session 24 - Giants and Dragons (or "Oh crap! We're All Going to Die")*

Corven ir’Lanya Deneith - Human Art8
Gareth Byron Deneith - Human Pal3/Clr2/Exorcist of the Silver Flame3
Luna - Shifter Drd8
Mithral 6 of 6 - Warforged Ftr2/Scout4/Extreme Explorer2
Nameless - Human Wiz6/Alienist2

While the adventurers are discussing their options and tucking into the breakfast the drow delivered for them, Ghyrra and a pair of drow drop in on them. She introduces the others, who are Kir'ris, a priest of Vulkoor, and Manar, the warchief of the Ka'ki'kur, and then says that there's some news. A small group of giants has left the city and gone into the forest. It consists of four hill giants and one of the fire giants that are currently the leaders of the place. It is probably just a hunting expedition, though sometimes they try to capture some of the wilder giants and bring them back and force them to work in the city. The drow sometimes harass these groups but usually don't attack them in force, since the losses are too high. But they are considering an attack on these ones in hope of capturing the fire giant and finding out more about the dragon's current situation. Also, one of the drow patrols that had been sent through the tunnels to spy on the giants hasn't returned. Ghyrra wants to send some drow in to check on what happened to them. She says that she would really appreciate it if they would help with one of the two jobs, and asks which one they'd prefer. 

Gareth says to the others, "I think it would be beneficial to slay these giants and capture or slay the fire giant. We are severely outnumbered and this might be what we need. Even better, if they send out a rescue operation - later - we can take that one out too. This will be a tough fight, but then - so will fighting all of the giants in their home. Who knows, maybe if we attack the giants - and in the process save one of the wild giants - that giant may decide to help us out." 

Nameless agrees, saying, "I'm for the giant mission as well. Stealth is not our greatest strength."

Ghyrra says that she will send Ek'ann and three drow warriors with them and leaves, giving the group time to prepare and plan. The Angels naturally decide to they will leave the porters and experts at the drow lair. Arrok says that he will come along and Dala says she will as well, since she's "not about to miss out on any of the fun." She does promise that she'll stay safely in the back.

After they have made their preparations, the group departs with Ek'ann and the other three drow. They travel back towards and around the city, this time staying further away from the crevasse. Ek'ann leads the group to an area in the forest half a mile from the bridge. He suggests they set an ambush there, while two of the drow and Six move a couple hundred feet ahead and keep watch. 

Eventually, after a wait of around an hour, Six hears the sounds of large creatures heading in their direction. He and the drow head back quickly to let the others know they're on their way. The ambushers prepare themselves with spells and when the giants emerge through the trees some distance away, the ambush is sprung. 

It begins well, with Nameless using haste to let his allies move faster and attack more often, and then using a slow spell to affect a few of the giants. Meanwhile the drow, Dala and Corven open fire with ranged weapons, hitting a number of the giants. Six and Ek'ann, who seems to enjoy using his scorpion chain with Six's spiked one, move in at an angle towards the hill giant on the flank, both striking and wounding it. Luna, now in the form of a large brown bear, and Arrok, rush in side by side and wound another hill giant. Gareth, who has been enlarged to be as tall as the giants by Nameless, moves in more ponderously behind them.

And that's when it goes bad - for Luna. While two of the hill giants are busy with Six and Ek'ann, the other two hill giants have only her and Arrok as a target, and next to her bulk the gnome is almost invisible. One hill giant catches her a powerful blow on the side, and so does the other, crunching ribs as they hit. More troublingly, the red-bearded fire giant that has been walking behind the first two hill giants (wearing ornate half-plate armor, unlike its hide-wearing companions) rushes forward, drawing its large greatsword as it comes. The greatsword slams down on the bear's skull, driving it to the forest floor, unconscious and bleeding*.

For a few moments, this leaves the gnome alone facing three giants. The moments could have been longer, as Gareth, shocked to see Luna go down so easily, takes a few steps to the side as if moving to help Six and Ek'ann. Whether it's Nameless' shout of "Gareth, you cowardly bastard - get in there and help him!", or the slightly more polite yells from Six and Corven, or Arrok's worried, "Um, guys - some backup here?", something changes his mind and he does head towards the giants facing Arrok. To the future (nobody laughs about it till after the fight) amusement of the others, Gareth actually stops behind Arrok, keeping him between himself and the fire giant. He smites one of the hill giants, wounding him severely.

As those in the rear continue to move in and shoot, Nameless releases another spell, bringing down a rain of glitterdust around the giants near Arrok. The fire giant is blinded and flails around blindly in the direction of Gareth, the one large target it has seen. Most of its blows go wild, but one hits home perfectly, almost cutting Gareth in half**. With a cry of pain, the paladin collapses, again leaving Arrok facing three giants. Luckily, the big one is now blind, and the hasted Arrok steps in between its legs and launches a series of pinpoint blows, sending blood spurting and drawing cries of pain and swearing in giant. 

Corven hurries forward towards Luna and Gareth, stopping on the way to fire a giant-bane-infused crossbow bolt into one of the giants. Six and Ek'ann, meanwhile, have badly wounded the first giant they attacked and Six rips its throat open with his chain. They quickly go on to engage the next one, which is already wounded and then speedily blinded by another glitterdust from Nameless. Six tries to trip it but the blinded creature manages to pull away his chain. Six calmly picks up the chain again, dodging its wild blows as he does so, and trips it on the second attempt. It is promptly dispatched by Ek'ann and him. 

The blind fire giant, meanwhile, is running streams of blood down its legs from Arrok's unending attacks***. One of its wild blows grazes the gnome's shoulder but that's all the damage it does, its blindness and his size making him almost impossible to hit. While it is tottering, Corven reaches and heals Gareth back to consciousness. Rising groggily to his feet, Gareth sees the tottering fire giant and smashes it to the ground with the flat of his sword, so that they can question it. 

While Corven heals Luna back to consciousness too, the others take care of the remaining giants. While the wounded are healed, they strip the fire giant of weapons and equipment, tying it as securely as can be. They also go through the equipment of the other giants. Though they find nothing magical, there are a couple of items that Dala thinks are worth taking. The adventurers also notice that all of the giants have the same tattoo of a snake wrapped around a gem/dragonshard on them. When one comments on it, Ek'ann says that the dragons all started wearing that tattoo shortly after the Bound One was defeated. They also paint it on all the giants that serve them. None of the drow know why.

Finally, the group wakes the giant. Originally, it is understandably defiant and even though threatened by Nameless, refuses to speak to them, since they will only kill it anyway. After some discussion, Corven infuses a suggestion and uses it on the giant, suggesting that if it gives them some information, they will free it. The giant succumbs to the spell and becomes much more helpful, providing a lot of information. 

The fire giant's name is Logoran. He says that there are currently another twenty or so hill giant warriors, plus around ten non-combatants. There are also a few stone giants (6, plus 2 non-combatants) and a trio of fire giants (which includes Logoran). They live mostly in the buildings near the palace. though the fire giants have been spreading them out a bit so that they can cover more space. There were originally four fire giants, but the last time some of them spoke to the dragon (a little over a week ago), one argued with him and Tyrass simply breathed on him, paralyzing him, and then ripped him apart. Logoran says that Tyrass is steadily getting more mercurial and violent, and now seems to have little interest in the city outside. He has also become more paranoid, saying that the giants should be prepared for dangers they haven't seen before, and continually asking they giants if they hear voices in their sleep (which none have). 

Tyrass has also produced two new guards from somewhere, which stay at or near the front door of the palace. Logoran has no idea what they are, since they wear ornate full plate that hides their features, revealing only two glowing eyes. They are built like giants, but are over 15 ft tall, and Logoran (who's been here for twenty years) hasn't seen any giants that size. Tyrass has warned the giants not to try to proceed into the palace since he has awakened more guardians. Logoran hasn't seen much of it, since Tyrass always speaks to the giants in the entrance hall or the large chamber beyond. He believes the dragon stays in the upper levels, since he usually descends to meet them. 

When asked exactly what the relationship between the dragons and the giants is, Logoran says that the dragon has promised to protect them from dangers that could destroy the city, and allows them to live in the city in return for service and information. One example of the service (and of Tyrass' paranoia) is in the fact that Tyrass got the giants to seal up all entrances and exits to the palace besides the front door, and sealed up the entrances on the higher levels himself, since he would not allow the giants to go there.

Having got whatever information they could, the Angels tell the drow to do what they will, and the latter promptly kill the giant. After having done so, they begin to cut steaks off Logoran and the other giants, to go with the large pieces of dinosaur meat that the giants had been carrying. When the Angels ask about them eating giant meat (which Arrok says isn't at all common in Xen'drik), Ek'ann says that it is a tradition among the drow to eat their enemies. Plus giant tastes good if treated right, as the group has already found out in their meal the previous night. A couple of the Angels turn a little green at that information.

The group returns to the drow lair. Ghyrra meets them and  says that the soldiers they sent after the initial patrol in the tunnels returned to say that all three are missing and presumed dead. They found a dropped sword, blood and slime, and marks that indicate they were dragged off. They are quite sure that it was creatures associated with the Three. 

She is also very interested in what they found out from the giant. After hearing the details, she suggests an excursion into the palace early next day, after they've had a day to prepare as much as needed. The drow will attack the giants at the same time, to draw them away . Ghyrra has been studying whatever records they have of the palace, which are very sketchy since they could not enter it while the giants ruled, and did not do so much after the dragons took over. She gives the group a rough map that she has put together based on the accounts. It indicates that beyond the entrance hall is another one, which has stairs leading up, and then a huge audience chamber. The audience chamber apparently has a hidden entrance to the lower levels behind the throne, which the ruler could use for a quick exit if needed. She says that it might be a good way to get to the vaults below and see what they can find. 

Six, who is the most suspicious of entering the front way, and says that he would much prefer to find another way in, asks Luna if she would mind checking out the area in bird form. To nobody's surprise, she agrees promptly, and a few minutes later, is winging her way down the mountainside and towards the city.

Reaching the palace, she finds one of the main thirty-foot tall double doors ajar, and promptly heads inside. Inside, as expected, is a large chamber, a hundred feet wide and fifty feet high. Despite the fact that all windows are sealed up securely, the chamber is lit dimly by continual flame torches set into the walls. There are decorations along the walls and on the ceiling, but covered in dust and cobwebs. In the center of the hall is a dais some twenty feet tall. All there is on it are the bottoms of two feet, broken off at mid-shin. A golden inscription below says something that Luna cannot read. There is also a large open set of doors leading inwards to a huge hall, where she can see more open doors and stairs leading up. Next to the doors are two huge figures in full-plate (bearing the serpent/gem symbol), each carrying a morningstar nearly as tall as itself. 

They do not respond in any way to the entrance of the bird as she flies in and perches on the dais. Trying to make out whether they are alive or not, the fearless druid flies over and perches on one's helm, and then begins to preen herself. There is no response, and she flies into the next hall. Here she finds two sets of stairs curving up the sides of an equally large hall to a closed doorway leading up to the next level. Between the stairs is another open set of double doors, revealing a pillar-filled chamber. Luna flies into this one too and discovers it to be the throne room, with a huge obsidian throne on a plinth at one end. Two sets of pillars march down the hall. There are other doors leading out of this room, but each is closed. 

After checking around, Luna flies out and around the palace. She quickly discovers that while she can find a number of entrances, each of them has been sealed up securely. Based on what she has already seen and since the walls are to giant proportions, she decides that spells to affect stone like her stone shape will be useless here due to the sheer size of the seals. Deciding that she has seen enough, she flies back to the mountain and the camp.

Once she rejoins them and says what she has seen, the group makes plans and prepares for the morrow, with Nameless, Gareth and Luna working with Corven and his homunculus to create a number of scrolls. Now that the decision is made, Ghyrra provides them with some magical items too, including scrolls of healing and the loan of a bag of holding to bring any recovered items out. To Nameless, she gives a golden disk with a dragonshard set in it. She calls it a disk of absorptive negation and says that if he uses it while casting a dispel magic spell, it'll trap some of the spell energy dispelled and let him use it to power his own magic. 

She also loans him a necklace of the phantom library, a golden chain, with five lozenge-shaped Siberys dragonshards spaced at discrete intervals, and shows him how to use it. When he puts it on, golden sigils appear floating in the air in front of him. They represent the spells scribed within the item and he can move from spell to spell with a thought, deciding what to prepare. Though few of the spells are new to him, Nameless finds that it holds significantly more than his own spellbooks. A couple of the new spells that he does find useful are an improved version of his mage armor spell and a spell that will allow him to protect all of the group from cold, which should be invaluable in fighting a silver dragon.

After providing the group with the items, Ghyrra asks them if they would join her in an oath-taking ceremony at the Shrine of Vulkoor to ensure that they do not betray the drow and vice versa. The group agrees, though Gareth says he will only swear by the Silver Flame, which Ghyrra accepts. The ceremony is quite short, performed by the priest Kir'ris in front of a huge statue of the half-drow half-scorpion Vulkoor. It involves a zone of truth spell, which all of the group stand within and speak the oath. So too do Ghyrra, Manar and Kir'ris.

After that, the adventurers retire to supper and a good night's rest. As is now becoming a habit, they have the same dream as before, except that this time the voice threatens that if they do not free it, someone else will and will reap the rewards. This time, Nameless settles for taunting it in fluent daelkyr. Most don't have the dream last long, perhaps because Six makes a habit of poking them if they murmur in their sleep (which, sadly, sometimes happens even when they aren't having the dream).

***
The next day, after making their preparations, the group leaves with the two drow warriors that are to guide them. Arrok and Dala accompany the Angels. They enter a chamber that has a large opening, which they climb down to a dark tunnel below. This is one of the tunnels that the drow have created from their mountain lair to the tunnels under the city. As the group heads down the tunnels, they find them crude and narrow, but after both descending a few hundred feet and traveling about half a mile, they expand into well-made stone ones that are a little less than 10 ft tall and wide. They pass a few sections that have collapsed, the drow guides saying that these are the results of the giants' attempts to destroy the tunnels. A couple of times, the guides stop at a place that has a hidden opening above and cautiously check the area above to orient themselves. Finally, after an hour of traveling, they emerge into an abandoned building near the palace. The top levels of the building have been destroyed, but the bottom remains.  

After nearly half an hour, they hear the sounds of giant shouting and metal gongs ringing far in the distance. Through the high windows, they see some hill giants emerge with weapons from a building nearby and hurry towards the sound. The drow tell them to go, saying that they'll be waiting here in hiding for them. The adventurers quickly cast a large number of protective spells, ending with a silence spell on a stone that Six carries. Then they head quickly across the two hundred and fifty feet separating them from the palace. 

Nobody seems to notice them and they reach their destination, finding the door ajar as Luna had. As they hurry through, they see exactly what she had before, with the addition that those who can read giant realize that the golden inscription on the dais below the shattered feet says "Ozy..."****. There is little time for appreciating the scenery, however, since the two huge armored figures promptly heft their morningstars and attack. 

The battle is violent but short, and just as silent as the group had hoped, due to the silence stone Six carries. Luna - in bear form again - engages one of the creatures alone, while Gareth, Six and Arrok engage the other. Nameless and Corven blast them with spells from the rear, while Dala uses her crossbow (mostly with no effect). Early in the fight, one of Luna's claw swipes tears away some of the armor, revealing that the creatures are actually giant skeletons. 

Luna and the skeleton she is fighting exchange mighty blows, wounding each other drastically, Luna continually moving in and forcing the creature to back up to be able to swing at her. On the other side, both Six and Gareth take serious wounds too, though Six is partly protected by the stone construct infusion that Corven has used to strengthen his form. Gareth eventually backs out and blasts the creatures with positive energy. This wounds the one closest to them enough for Six, who has switched from using his chain (which is less effective against the bone of the skeletons) to using his fists, to smash its knee and bring it down in a heap.

On the other side, though direly wounded, Luna backs the skeleton into a corner so that it has to back up around her and give her a chance to disengage. Corven promptly blasts it with his wand and Six tumbles across to slam it in the knee too, bringing it down like the first one. 

With the creatures down, the group hurries through the chamber with the stairs and into the audience chamber, casting healing spells on the way. Six and Corven search the area behind the throne and find a well-hidden door, which pivots more smoothly on its hinges than its 15 foot high size would indicate. The area beyond is a tunnel the size of the door, lit by more magical torches, which leads to a set of stairs leading down. The area has dust on the floor, with the marks of huge clawed footprints and a dragging tail in the dust.

The group heads down the stairs, but quickly discover that the giant-sized steps are dangerous to climb down. Nameless slips and falls, but Luna lunges and grabs him. The group switches to using a rope to climb down. They descend for about 200 ft before reaching a blank wall with another hidden door. This one opens into the end of a huge hall, about 50 tall, 80 ft wide and 200 ft long, again lit by continual flame torches in the four corners. 

There is a huge doorway on the far side, which had a stone door but it is broken and lying in fragments. There are four more doors, two on each side. This hall is dusty too, with similar marks of a dragon's passage. There are large webs in the corners of the room. The closest corner has what seems to be three large humanoid shapes wrapped tightly in webbing. Nameless tries vainly to prevent Luna from messing with them, but the druid goes ahead and does so. She finds that they are not web-wrapped but seem to actually be made of webbing, with their otherwise featureless faces bearing eight blank eyes. Luna promptly goes back and pulls Nameless towards them. After examining them, he and Corven decide that they must be web golems, which the giants of Xen'drik are known to have invented. These ones have been destroyed, evidently a while ago, by large claws.

The group heads for the closest door. Experimentation reveals that it has some kind of proximity trigger, causing it to slide up into the ceiling when someone is standing next to it, sliding down again in ten seconds. Beyond is a 40 foot long corridor, leading to a similar door. Beyond is a cubical room (30 feet to a side), containing large stone shelves and racks with numerous items on them, many of which Nameless detects as magical. The room also contains four alcoves, holding creatures that resemble a warforged, though much more like the versions that pre-dated the truly sentient versions that were created thirty-three years ago. Each has a two-handed flail held in both hands and wears a metallic harness, linking a starburst on the chest, a thick metal belt and two large metal boots.

Presuming that they are guardians of some kind, Six enters the room cautiously, but they show no signs of life. Nameless suggests that they might be activated by someone disturbing the items, so Six and Gareth stand with weapons ready in front of one, while Luna takes up position in front of the other. Nameless picks up a gnarled wooden staff and the creatures promptly come to life, stepping forward with weapons raised. 

Their "life", however, is very short-lived. The adventurers quickly cut down the two they were ready for and Nameless webs the other two, allowing the others to deal with them in turn. When the creatures are slain and collapse, the star explodes as they hit the ground, damaging those immediately nearby and destroying the harness. Luna manages to catch one in her mouth before it hits the ground and Six removes the harness, finding that it is all in one piece. Nameless discovers that it is magical and Six sticks it in the bag of holding for later usage. Along with that, go the other magical and non-magical items in the room. The magical items include the wooden staff, a Necklace of the Phantom Library, a set of metal bracers, a wooden wand, a cloak, a rod, two rings, a scarab, a small case of what seems to be ointment, a coiled rope, and a set of boots. There is also a giant-sized shield and huge warhammer, but these are far too long to fit through the opening of the bag and the group leaves it.

Gareth decides to try on the boots and a ring. Experimentation reveals that they are Boots of Striding and Springing and the ring is like a Necklace of Adaptation, surrounding him with a blanket of fresh air. Nameless points out that the ring will protect against the dragon's paralysis breath and suggests that either Corven or he use it, since Gareth's divine protections mean he has the best chance of resisting the breath anyway. Gareth complains that he was the one who risked trying it on and should get to use it, but after Nameless berates him for being a selfish so-and-so and Luna steps in to say the same, he gives up and hands it over. Corven says that his temporary magical protections make him slightly more resistant now, so Nameless puts on the ring.

Leaving the room, the adventurers head for the next door. They have only taken a few steps when they notice something drop from the ceiling above. It looks like a pebble and bounces away, but it makes no sound as it does so, as if it too had a silence upon it. Looking up, they see a huge dragon appear above them, looking down from where it crouches on the ceiling. It snarls down at them and says, "I have been expecting you. Now we make the future!" And then its huge nostrils flare and it breathes...

* Luna went from 84 hit pts to -5 in that round. Power-attacking giants hurt!
** Made the 50% miss chance and confirmed a crit for 80 pts.
*** Arrok alone did nearly 90 pts of damage to the fire giant
**** Yes, of course P.B. Shelley was a giant.


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar:

Session 24 - February 18, 2006

We spend some time with the drow, listening to their problems and eating their exotic foods. The meats taste much different, and I am not entirely sure I want to know what some of this is – I just hope it is not giant flesh. We are then told about a group of giants who left their base to go hunting for food. After a recommendation, we decide the best course of action is to go and ambush these giants, but try and bring them back alive – at least their leader, which happens to be a fire giant. We then prepare for the trek and the oncoming battle.

We get to the area and see our opponents. I yell to Six and Luna "let us go in together" and immediately both of them charge up at different angles – Six to my left and Luna to my right – but way to far for me to go straight up the middle and not be left alone. I then decide to go towards Six, but as I do so Luna is knocked down – beaten by two giants. Nameless casts a spell of haste upon us, followed by a spell of slow on the giants – which greatly hinders them. Earlier, Nameless had enlarged my size and this not only helps me do more damage, but makes me a bigger target.

I then hear Nameless yell at me and call me a coward, not knowing why, and then I see he was referring to Luna, who just got pummeled to the ground by two of the hill giants and the fire giant. Note: If we only charged up as a team, things would have been a bit different. I then change direction and run right to the giant, but am behind Arrok, who looks so small right now. With my reach, I am easily able to target the creatures over his head. I then hit one of the hill giants, smiting him but I do not manage to take him down. This is followed by Nameless casting his Glitterdust spell, blinding a number of the giants, including the fire giant. The fire giant wildly swings his weapon, and actually connects with me knocking me out.

Some time later, but still in time for the battle, I wake up – as Corven just healed me. I then, from the floor swing at the giant with the flat of my blade – finishing off the work of the other group members. The giant lays on the ground, unconscious. Seeing the other giants down, we heal each other up and tie the fire giant securely. We start to question the giant, but it does not respond to us so Corven casts a spell of suggestion. The giant then begins to tell us everything we want to know – their numbers, who is in charge, what they are doing and so forth. We also learn the dragon seems to becoming more and more insane, maybe due to the magics around him. The giant also breaths paralyzing gas – and Nameless mentions Silver Dragons tend to do that. After we are done questioning him, the drow proceed to kill him. Normally I would want to turn in a criminal to the local authority- but this creature is evil and there is no authority here. To let him go would only ensure that he warns his comrades as well as fight us at a later point. I then learn, to my horror, the dinner we ate last night was giant meat! 

We start to make our way back to the drow camp.

OOC: At this point I left the game so my story will not continue


----------



## shilsen

*Session 25 - Dragons and Daelkyr (or "CR 20? Phffttt!")*

Even as thoughts of "ohcrapohcrapI'mgoingtodieohcrap" run through the adventurers' minds, the dragon breathes, blasting them with a cone of incredibly cold air. Even though all of them are protected by a spell to resist energy (cold), the targets feel the icy breath chill them to the bone, weakening muscles and draining vitality. Most of them, that is. Six, timing it just right, manages to spin around and pull his magical cloak over his head, leaving him untouched by the blast. More surprisingly, for the others, Dala - near the edge of the blast, drops and rolls under it, leaving her unscathed as well*.

A split second after it breathes, the dragon lets go and drops off the ceiling. Rather than crashing to the floor forty feet below, he drops slowly, evidently benefiting from a featherfall effect. As he does so, he flaps his huge wings, driving himself closer to the group. In barely a couple of seconds, he lands next to them, fangs and claws at the ready. As he lands, Tyrass roars, sending shivers running up the spines of the adventurers. Aided by the aura of courage that Gareth radiates, most of them shake off the effects, but Six and Corven succumb, feeling their hands tremble, fear taking the edge off their skill. They, do however, stand their ground. 

Even if they had actually seen a live dragon before, Tyrass would be a singular sight. The dragon is a huge creature, fully forty feet long from nosetip to tail. A large frill crowns his head and runs down his neck. His body is mainly gray, made up of blotches of different shades. Small streaks of pure silver are visible in between. His eyes are silver too, with a darker silver eyeball, but they are cloudy, with red veins forming webbing over each eye. Small sores cover his body, with a few that are 2-3 feet across, all of them red and oozing. The most noticeable thing about Tyrass is a large dark-blue tattoo covering his chest section, depicting the serpent around the gem that the Angels have seen before. One of the claws gleams, a large golden ring encircling it.

Not that anyone stops to appreciate the sight. Nameless, who already has the disk from Ghyrra in his hand, steps back and casts a spell, trying to dispel any protections Tyrass may have. He realizes he has had at least some success, as he feels the disk grow warm and realizes that it now stores the power of a spell of the second valence.** 

Six and Luna leap forward together. Six's spiked chain, enchanted by Corven against dragons, bites into the Tyrass' shoulder, ripping a two-foot long gash in it and drawing a snarl that mixes both pain and surprise. Luna rears up to her full height of ten feet bites and claws at Tyrass' right leg, leaving large gashes. She tries to grab hold and bring him down, but even with her bulk the huge dragon is much too big.

Gareth is only a moment behind the other two, but his action is not as offensive, though it is more aesthetic. He takes a step forward and then breaks into a jig, leaping and capering in the same place***. The look of shock on his face is replaced by frustration and anger. "The Flame help me!" he cries, as he desperately tries to tear the boots off his feet, still making fancy moves while doing so. For a moment, even the dragon pauses and looks confused at the sight.

Dala, meanwhile, has pulled a scroll from her pack and used it to heal the bulk of Arrok's wounds. As she does, the gnome charges forward, coming up on the dragon's flank. He strikes with his diminutive shortsword, only to see it bounce off a scale as big as his head. 

As Arrok is charging, Dala backs up to the wall. Next to her is Corven, who is quickly infusing his wand for extra power and muttering, "I am a wizard! I am a wizard! I really hope I am a wizard!"

Luckily for him and for Nameless, even with Gareth temporarily out of the fight, Six, Luna and Arrok are keeping Tyrass busy - that is, giving him more immediate targets. The dragon lashes out at his enemies in a flurry of bite, claws, wing and tail. Luna is the worst hit, the dragon seizing her in his claws and rending**** her between them, laying her entire side open. Arrok is almost taken off his feet by a slap of the tail. Six is wounded too, but the protections from Corven keep out much of the damage he would otherwise have taken. The dragon does, however, seize him in its mouth and lift him off the ground.

Ignoring the pain, Six calls out in Giant, "Tyrass - if you kill us, we can't tell you about the prophecy!" To his surprise and that of the others, the dragon actually tries to answer. As it does so, its grip loosens and he slips out. Tyrass glares down and replies in Giant, "Fools! I know of the Prophecy! I will kill you all!"

"In that case...", shrugs Six, swinging back with his chain to again wound the dragon. Luna follows suit, continuing to claw and bite despite the blood streaming down her body. 

From behind them Nameless, who is continuing to back up, casts another spell. A thick bank of solid fog appears around much of the dragon's body, clearly limiting its movement. As it appears, an aggrieved, "Hey!!!" rings out from within it, from Arrok, who is within the area. 

"Don't worry, Arrok," shouts Nameless, "It'll protect you." Within the fog, Arrok swears to himself in Gnome and stabs at the dragon's leg. This time, partly to his surprise, and apparently the dragon's, he inflicts a shallow wound.

Gareth, having managed to throw off the boots, now moves in with Kizmet in hand. The paladin yells to Dala as he goes, "Healing! We need more healing!" And I need not to be fighting a huge dragon in my socks!

Dala complies, pulling another scroll from her bag. She hurriedly pronounces the words of the spell and all of the group feel some of their wounds close. "That's the only one of that kind I have!" she yells.

Corven says quickly, "I've got another in my haversack," but realizes offense is better now. He triggers his wand, sending two scorching rays at the dragon. One fails to penetrate its resistance to magic but the other gets through, burning into one of the large sores. 

Tyrass screams in rage and pain and explodes into an even more violent flurry of attacks. Luna, in her already weakened state, collapses in a pool of blood, while Six is wounded again, more of his protections being stripped away. To the later amusement of the group, from within the fog Arrok shouts, "Missed me!" as the dragon's tail swishes by his head. He follows with a cry of "Gotcha!" as he manages to stab the dragon again.

Outside the fog, Six lands another blow. Gareth, having reached the dragon's side, calls upon the Flame to aid him and smites the dragon. Kizmet kindles in his hands and bites deep into the dragon's side, slashing a huge wound, followed by another one as he smites again.

As Tyrass screams, Nameless yells, "That's it!" and casts another spell, hurling an acid orb. To his surprise and disgust, it splashes harmlessly on the dragon's neck. Acid immunity? Bloody hell!*****

Corven is more effective, another scorching ray getting through the dragon's resistance, as he backs around to the side. Dala, previously near him, hurries forward towards the fight with another scroll in hand. She uses it on Luna. Though she remains grievously wounded, the druid muzzily opens her eyes. Looking up at the dragon slashing at her allies, she snarls and slowly backs away, knowing that she is in no shape to attack physically.

Tyrass is too busy to notice her revival, focusing on the enemies that are continuing to wound him. He seizes Six with both claws, rending him as he did Luna previously. With his protection having been stripped away by its previous attacks, Six has his entire chest section ripped open and drops******, unconscious and leaking fluid. 

Gareth is no luckier. The dragon bites down on him viciously and lifts him up, before dropping him again. Badly wounded, Gareth tries to keep his feet but stumbles. As he hits the ground, he looks up to see a wing slam down. He too drops unconscious, bleeding from his mouth.******* 

The one lucky person, as evidenced by his cheery, "Missed me - again!" is Arrok, wherever he is within the fog. That doesn't reassure Nameless much, as he sees Six and Gareth lying there, with Luna literally out on her feet. He casts again, sending a fireball to explode against Tyrass' side. 

The dragon screams at the fiery attack, and the scream is extended as Luna brings down a flame strike right in the middle of its back. Scales and flesh burn away under the magical onslaught. Tyrass totters, his huge body covered in blood and burnt flesh. 

Seeing the opportunity, Corven takes careful aim and fires. To his horror, one ray misses completely and another fails to have any effect.

The dragon, seeing Nameless and Luna as the biggest threats, and unable to reach both of them due to distance and the solid fog takes another breath. And then he exhales, sending a cloud of paralyzation gas washing over them. 

Dala, who has just healed Luna again, goes completely rigid, paralyzed immediately. Unknown to Tyrass, however, Nameless is wearing the Ring of Adaptation from the treasure room and Luna has cast a freedom of movement on herself earlier. As Tyrass sags with pain and weakness, expecting to see his enemies paralyzed, the druid-bear comes charging out of the cloud of gas. 

Luna lunges forward, seizing the dragon's chest with her claws and biting deep into the base of his throat. Her teeth sink deep into a huge sore, ripping through diseased and weakened skin and flesh. She literally rips away an entire side of Tyrass' throat. The dragon screams and convulses, knocking her away as he collapses in an ever-expanding pool of blood and pus.

"Hey! What happened out there? This thing just fell over!" shouts Arrok from inside the fog. Nameless replies, "It's down and looks dead, but I'm about to make sure," calls back Nameless, preparing to cast a summon spell. Time to turn you into paste! 

As he is about to cast, Tyrass reopens his eyes. After his initial shock, Nameless notices that they are now clear of the red webbing previously covering them. Painfully, Tyrass gasps in Draconic, "Wait!" Luna, who has backed off and been spitting and trying to get the taste of dragon pus out of her mouth, looks around in surprise.

"What did it say?" asks Nameless, hand still raised to complete his spell. Corven, who is coming closer carefully with wand raised, says, "It said 'Wait'."

Tyrass continues speaking, seeming to address the group rather than any one of them, pausing intermittently to gasp in pain. "Thank you. You have freed me ... as I knew you would, even within my madness. But now you - and your Khorvaire - are in danger. I, Tyrass, was the last guardian and the Key is bound to me." 

As he is speaking, Luna notices that the tattoo on its chest is beginning to break apart, like a sand dune being blown away by the wind. She waves a paw to indicate it to the others.

Tyrass coughs up a gout of blood and then continues, "Your actions will spark the future." The phrase reminds Corven (and Nameless, as Corven translates) of Flamewind's prophecy - Where present and future spark, where light is turned to dark, to the ghost of the city where the past awaits.

They do not have time to discuss that, as the dying dragon continues. "You must get there before the Bound One gets free. It is weaker for the moment, much weaker, but it is still beyond your power. Use the Key and it will keep it bound, if you have the will. And guard the other Key, from those who will want its power." 

Again, he pauses to cough up more blood. Luna steps - or rather, shambles - forward and raises a paw to touch the dragon, calling up a healing spell. The spell simply fizzles. Tyrass gazes at her for a moment, and then says painfully, "It is too late. I am dead already."

He then adds, "You will need my blood. Put some on your skin. All of you. At least one must drink it, so that you can speak to the guardians. Take my ring too. Go now. Down the stairs outside. Always head down." 

"What Key?" says Luna, but unfortunately, this only emerges as a series of growls. Corven, however, asks the question at the same time.

As he speaks, there is a tremor beneath the adventurers' feet. The dragon arches its half-severed neck and takes a panicky breath, groaning at the pain, "It is trying to escape! Go now! GO! Remember that the prophecy is..." 

Then there is a pregnant pause and the dragon's head falls. This time, it is clearly dead. The last remnant of the tattoo fades from its chest.

Luna, Corven and Arrok, who has cautiously emerged from the solid fog, quickly revive Gareth and Six. Dala too soon emerges from her paralysis. As they begin healing their severe wounds, Corven quickly explains to everyone what the dragon said. 

"If the Bound One is what I'm thinking," says Nameless, "We need to get there - fast!" With that, he walks over to the dragon and, with some straining, removes its ring. He then takes two handfuls of blood and cakes his face and arms with it. Then he pulls out a spoon, dips it in the blood, and swallows it. 

"What the - ?!" begins Gareth, when Corven adds that the dragon said they need to. Everyone does so, though with significantly less relish than Nameless. Luna, her snout wrinkled in disgust, also laps a little blood in case someone else needs to have done so. She feels a slight tingle but no other noticeable effect.

Six, who is at the doorway now, says, "Giant-sized steps leading up and down. This'll take a while."

As another tremor underlines the words, Nameless says, "We need to get downstairs fast. Luna!" The druid, who has been pulling out a couple of the dragon's teeth as souvenirs, ambles over. Nameless reaches out and casts a spell on her, causing her to expand till she is nearly twenty feet long. "There!" says the mage in satisfaction. "Transport!"

Everyone quickly climbs onto the huge bear, including Gareth, who has been trying to work out what kind of armor the dragonhide would make, and she heads out and down the stairs. As she goes, the others quickly discuss what they have learned and what it might mean. Corven, Six, Gareth and Nameless especially discuss the details of Flamewind's prophecy, noting that the phrases "Where present and future spark" and "to the ghost of the city where the past awaits" clearly relates to their current situation, as seems to be "Dragon's wings". The primary question they have is what this Key is. Flamewind said, "The sword is the key, but the key is not the sword," but they are not sure what it means. 

"If it means I'm going to give up my sword, I'm going to be really unhappy!" comments Gareth, praying inwardly that it won't be required.

While they are speaking, Luna descends a couple of levels, passing large landings, where other tunnels and chambers lead off. As she goes, she can feel more small rumbles in the stone, which seem to grow stronger as she descends. 

The stairs finally end in front of a large archway with double stone doors. After a quick check by Corven and Six, Luna shoves them open, revealing a tunnel beyond ending in a similar archway and door. It is featureless except for small crystals set into the sides and ceiling, which emit a dim light. Nameless throws a copper crown down the tunnel but there is no response. The group heads in.

As they near the far end, panels open in the walls and two large metal figures step through. They are evidently iron golems, though these look more lithe and less blocky than most. They raise their arms, revealing large blades affixed to their fingers, but make no other move. Nameless opens his mouth to speak and feels a tingle (minty-fresh, which turns his stomach). Small sparks appear as he speaks. He has barely finished a word before the golems step back into the receptacles they came from.

"Come with us!" says Nameless firmly, but the only response is as the panels slide down. "Okay," he says, "Guess not!"

Luna shoves open the door and steps into the chamber beyond. This one is cylindrical, or presumably so, since the adventurers cannot see all of it. It is sixty feet high and presumably a hundred feet across, but there is a cylindrical wall of mist from ceiling to floor about ten feet in. It resembles the one around the island (and, to the Cyrans, the one around the Mournland). There are continual flame torches around the walls, and the adventurers see their light palpably streaming into the mist and being converted into darkness. 

"Where light is turned to dark?" asks Corven rhetorically, as Luna enters. A moment later, a huge rumble shakes the entire room, actually knocking Luna off her feet. Luckily, those on her manage to either land on theirs or roll away before the huge bear can land on them. As she regains her feet with a growl, Nameless says, "This is it, all right!"

After a few seconds casting protective spells, the group enters the mist together. It is impossible to see through, even with Gareth's darkvision, so they hold hands (or paw). The mist is only about five feet thick and the group emerges into the central area at once.

Inside the mist is a 70 ft wide open space, in the center of which is a dimensional seal, which looks just like the one that the Angels saw when they met Gurr'khan. There are only two things different about it. One is that there is what looks like a two-foot long dragonshard lying near the middle of it. This one has been carved into a cylinder with pointed ends, and is decorated with sigils like the dimensional seal. The sigils on the shard are glowing, as they are on the seal. Though it is half-hidden, the adventurers can see that the shard has a picture of the serpent/dragonshard symbol on it. The other different thing about this seal is a thick amber column of light, which rises from the center of it to the ceiling.

While the others see only a dimensional seal, a dragonshard and a beam of light, the sight triggers another of Nameless' memories:

He is lying spreadeagled on just such a seal, naked from the chest up. He is not alone. He can see others like him - five more. He knows that he knows them, that they are comrades of his, but right now he cannot recall their names. The six of them have been laid out in a rough pattern, with each one's right hand tied to the left foot of the next person. His hands and feet feel raw, as if they have been tied for a long time.

Behind and above him, someone says, "Let it begin!" Nameless - or the person he is in the memory - twists painfully and looks up at the figures standing just outside the dimensional seal. All of them are hooded and cloaked, the hoods hiding their features. A couple wear large symbols on their chests, which he recognizes as the symbol of the Dragon Below. One, who stands in the middle, holds up a large, strangely shaped dragonshard. The Nameless having the memory recognizes it now as exactly the same as the one lying on the seal. 

As he watches, the dragonshard glows with an amber light, which then sends beams arcing to strike him and his companions. Instantly there is a sharp pain and an insistent, relentless pulling sensation, as it begins to drain his vitality. He gasps at the sensation and tries to fight it. His companions scream and convulse. He sees the beams leading to them pulse and begin to grow, as they thrash around. The one leading to him grows only slightly wider, as he continues to fight the sensation with all that he has.

Noticing it, one of the robed men steps forward. He kicks Nameless brutally in the face, instantly sending blood flowing into his eyes, and snarls, "Fool! You cannot fight it!" His hood falls away at the effort and Nameless sees a pallid, bony face, topped by two utterly insane eyes.

Behind him, Nameless sees the large dragonshard glowing bright amber now and it sends forth a larger beam, this one made of multiple smaller interweaving ones, to strike the center of the dimensional seal. Immediately, the draining sensation gets stronger, and he feels a huge weight pressing him to the seal. The symbols on the seal begin to glow. He cannot look up any more, but his last look makes him certain that his companions are unconscious or dead. Still, he continues to fight the draining effect. 

Suddenly, a blast of energy erupts beside him, but whether from the seal or from something to the seal, he does not know. There is a sharp, cracking sound and he hears screams of terror from the men standing above him. Suddenly, he hears a voice in his head. It says ...

And the memory fades away. But it leaves Nameless with some knowledge. He realizes somehow that the dragonshard is what the dragon Tyrass called the Key. As the name says, it is a Key to both close and open a dimensional seal. He realizes that he has to get to it and use it (somehow, he knows that he will be able to), by asking his companions to give it their life energy. When the Key has enough, he can use it to drive the Bound One back into its prison and seal it. He also knows (just as Tyrass said) that the Bound One will be temporarily weak after it is released, which is the only opportunity his companions will have to keep it busy while he uses the Key on it.

Nameless opens his mouth to tell his companions what they need to do, and in barely an instant, the amber column grows thin and winks out. What it leaves behind is a tall, thin, gray figure. The creature resembles a tall human in shape, but its body is made up of unvariegated gray flesh. If that were not enough, there is a long tentacles where each arm should be. The head is a smooth gray ovoid, with no facial features.

This time it is Six who has a memory, recalling the invisible gray figure he had seen in the mirror in the dolgrims' lair months ago, in the Cogs of Sharn. The creature raises its head and two large pupil-less eyes appear in the face. The Angels, except for Luna, recognize these eyes too, as similar to the one they had seen in that mirror before it exploded.

There is no time for discussing these revelations - or coincidences. As the creature gazes at them, the adventurers feel an awesome will bending theirs down before it. It is not even malevolent so much as completely and utterly alien. As they gaze at it, momentarily unable to act in any way, they get a tiny glimpse of its perspective. For a second, they see the entire planet of Eberron as it might look from space, its continents as large patches of green and brown swimming in a blue ocean, the cold white of the Frostfell at one end, the gleaming ring of Siberys circling it. 

But they are not alone in the void watching the planet. There are other creatures around them, creatures of no earthly shape or intent, whose existence and thought processes are completely and utterly alien to theirs. To them, Eberron is only a subject to be shaped and twisted to their desire, not because of anger or hate, but simply because they can. As their thoughts brush against those of the adventurers, they feel their mental faculties recoiling in horror. 

Physically, the adventurers are still present in the chamber, and on some tiny level they are aware that the creature in front of them is changing. Its face develops features like that of a handsome human, but there is something slightly malformed about it. Its tentacles turn into arms tipped with long claws. The flesh all over its body bulges and contorts, transforming into armor, with a long toothed whip growing from one arm. 

While the others feel the daelkyr insinuating its reality into theirs and holding them immobile, Corven manages to break away with a massive mental effort. Unsurprisingly, Nameless (whose reality is a little bigger than theirs anyway) does so too, his hands moving in the motions of a spell even as Corven lurches away, pulling out his wand. 

A pseudonatural bison appears next to the daelkyr and hurls itself forward, slamming into its shoulder. Having already seen a confused dragon today, the group now gets to see a slightly confused daelkyr. And a concerned-sounding pseudonatural bison, whose somewhat despondent "MOOO!" could probably translate into, "I am never going to live this down back in Xoriat!"

Nameless, not pausing to appreciate the irony of attacking a daelkyr with a pseudonatural creature, zooms forward under the effects of a fly spell he fortuitously cast just outside the mist. I'm actually rushing towards a daelkyr, he thinks to himself in a mix of wonder and fear, tinged with mild amusement. As he reaches it, passing around the bison, the daelkyr lashes out with its whip, laying open his shoulder. As it does so, all of the others in the chamber feel the mental pressure disappear. They are in control of their faculties again, though each of them is left with a pounding headache.

Ignoring the pain, Nameless grabs the dragonshard. The daelkyr growls, "No! That is mine!" and strikes again, but its haste and the attacking bison throws it off. With a snarl of frustration it smacks the bison away with the whip. By now, the still-growing whip has a claw at the tip, which instantly drains some of the bison's vitality. The daelkyr lashes back, this time catching Nameless' chest. The alienist immediately feels part of his intellect drain away.

He is, however, already in full retreat, flying backwards as fast as he can. As he reaches the mist, twenty feet above the ground, he feels the Key grow warm in his grasp. He senses that it is dimly sentient in its own way, not as an actual living creature is, but more like an object that is both aware of and interested in the purpose for its creation. As he holds it up, thin beams of amber light shoot out to hit him and all of his companions (as well as Dala and Arrok). 

"Give me all the energy you can!" yells Nameless. "It's our only chance!"

With no time for discussion, his companions respond promptly, giving up as much as they can and actually remain on their feet********. As they do, the beams of light widen appreciably for a moment and then wink out. It is replaced by a thicker beam, made of thinner interlacing rays, which shoots out of the Key and hits the daelkyr full in the chest. 

It staggers for a moment, but regains its feet. "Now!" shouts Nameless. "Hit it while it's weak!"

The next few seconds are utter mayhem, as the weakened but desperate adventurers charge in with a series of very timely attacks. Corven possibly saves a couple of lives, managing to target the whip with a blast of his wand that reduces it to ashes. The daelkyr promptly begins to grow another one, but that takes time which it doesn't have. Six, moving into position beside the bison, manages to wrap his chain around its leg and pull it off its feet, allowing the bison to batter it again. Arrok rushes it from the other side. Gareth and Luna, both slower to react, move in behind the others.

Though the daelkyr does not seem badly hurt by the attacks, the amber beam (which continues to shine on it and grows brighter) clearly keeps it somewhat off-balance. Those close to it can see that the armor on its body and even certain parts of its form do not seem to be completely there, with gaps where nothing seems to exist. Even so, it seems to be gradually gathering its strength and it rises again, a wave of force emanating from it that shoves its attackers back.

Gareth is about to charge it when he feels an unmistakable empathic command from Kizmet. He has a sudden memory of his father standing over him at the Battle of Grace, facing the demon that had just wounded Gareth, raising a shining Kizmet over his head. He gets a very strong urge that he should do the same. 

Getting as close to the daelkyr as possible, Gareth raises the sword above his head. "In the memory of Byron d'Deneith!" he cries, calling on the Silver Flame to aid him. As he does so, Kizmet begins to shimmer, the glow spreading quickly to cover the room. A brighter circle shines out to encase the daelkyr. The creature stumbles and those nearby see streams of gray begin to float from it to the sword. What are presumably wounds appear on it, strips simply disappearing from its body. 

The daelkyr snarls and then says something in the tongue-twisting syllables of its native language, which only Nameless understands. Nobody else has time to see, but the mage looks confused, since what he thinks it says is - "Fool! You cannot consume me, and no fiend can stand against me." A second later, Gareth goes flying backwards twenty feet as if hit by a giant fist. He collapses unconscious on the ground, the glow fading instantly from Kizmet. Dala, whom Gareth lands next to, promptly heals the paladin back to consciousness. He immediately realizes that not only does he not feel any empathic commands from Kizmet, but the sword is as dull as a simple weapon in his hands. Kizmet is now non-magical.

Meanwhile, almost as an afterthought, the daelkyr cuts down the bison and then disappears, only to reappear next to the mist on the far side of the room. The adventurers charge after it. Six, the first to reach it, sees that the wounds left by whatever it is Kizmet did have not healed, and as he strikes it with his chain, part of the daelkyr's leg actually crumbles to powder under the blow. It, however, remains upright and cuts down Six with the now regrown whip.

Nameless, who has been struggling to control the Key and cast a spell, finally manages to cast one, summoning three more bison. These shove the daelkyr towards the seal, the sigils on which are now glowing brightly. The beam from the Key too seems to be pulling it backwards. Corven hits it with another scorching ray, further wounding it. Gareth hits it with a blast of positive energy, which it ignores. Luna - unable to reach the fight - summons a unicorn. The unicorn appears and with a loud neigh, hurls itself forward. Its horn smashes into the back of the daelkyr, propelling it forward onto the seal. 

Instantly, the amber beam that the group had seen upon entering emerges from the seal's center. The beams from the Key give one final jerk, pulling the daelkyr into the beam. There is a momentary flash of light and a loud rumble - and the beam winks out. All it leaves behind is a foot-wide hole. There is no sign of the daelkyr. As the adventurers look around, unsure whether it's gone, the Key flies out of Nameless' hand. It flashes through the air till it reaches the seal and drops down, slotting itself into the hole, which shuts tight around it. There is another rumble and a flash from the seal's sigils. They begin to dim a moment later and the wall of mist disappears

Nameless flies down to join the weak and weary group, while Corven hurries to revive Six. "Holy crap!" says Arrok succinctly, "Is it gone?"

"I believe it has been locked away again," says Nameless. As he speaks, a receptacle opens in the wall on the far side, a now-familiar amber light shining through. Nameless flies across to find another dragonshard, just like the first. It quivers as he nears and when he touches it, nestles comfortably in his grasp. "This must be the second Key."

As he is speaking, there is another huge rumble, this one throwing a number of the adventurers off their feet. The sound of tortured and protesting stone fills their ears as a crack appears in the floor next to the dimensional seal and runs across to, and up, the wall. 

"Crap!" says Arrok again. "We need to get out."

Nameless flies back, carrying the dragonshard, while the rest pile onto Luna's back. The enlarged brown bear hurries out the doorway and through the corridor beyond, the sounds of more cracking stone accompanying her. As they pass through, the two golems appear again. 

Nameless turns and yells, "Follow us!" There is no response and the golems simply stand and watch, even as a chunk of stone comes off the ceiling of the corridor and bounces off one.

Luna shoves through the door and bounds up the stairs as fast as she can go, the others desperately holding onto clumps of her long hair, which elicits a growl or two (trans: "Watch those hands!"). They hurry past the other landings, Nameless gazing sadly down them as they go and wondering what arcane secrets lie concealed within. More cracks appear as they go, with the sound of falling stone (and the sight of a couple of falling lumps) accompanying them and growing louder. 

Emerging onto the landing near the treasure vaults, Luna skids and turns right, haring through the chamber with the dead dragon. Gareth gives an anguished groan - " I wanted some dragonhide, dammit!" - but everyone ignores him as Luna shoves open the secret door and leaps up the stairs.

She is halfway to the top when there is the largest rumble that the group has heard so far. They look up to see the huge spiderweb of cracks that covers the ceiling - and see it give way. The entire top half of the giant palace collapses on them.

A few seconds later, all that is left in the area is a mountain of broken stone. The wounded and bleeding adventurers find themselves pinned painfully under rubble and nearly choked with dust. Six, having managed to evade the worst of the damage, asks, "Can anyone get us out?"

Nameless begins, "I don't think ...", but is interrupted by an amber glow. It emanates from the dragonshard still gripped in his hand. As the adventurers watch, the glow quickly changes into a small bubble of light, which begins to expand. As it does, it slowly but inexorably pushes the rubble around it out of the way. The adventurers, however, pass smoothly through the surface of the bubble.

Within moments, it grows to envelop Nameless and then the others. "Are you doing that?" asks Corven curiously, as he lands on the curved surface inside the bubble, having a huge rock lifted off his legs. 

"No," says Nameless, carefully examining the dragonshard, "It's some sort of defensive mechanism." He taps the bubble, which now is impervious to him from the inside, and says, "It's a variation on a resilient sphere, I think."

"Whatever it is, I'm not complaining!" says Arrok, as he begins to revive an unconscious Dala. 

When the bubble has completely encompassed the group, it begins to rise slowly, rubble sliding out of its path. As it moves, those inside can hear more loud rumbles in the area around them. Eventually, a couple of minutes later, the globe breaks into the open, revealing a scene of complete devastation.

The giant city is in a state of even greater ruin than before, most of the buildings having fallen apart under the reverberations. Huge splits and crevasses run through the city like the world's largest spiderweb, quickly expanding and swallowing more of the city. Nobody has much interest in them right now, since they have a more impressive sight in view, just over a mile away. The nearby mountain is missing its entire top half and the lower part is covered in lava, huge plumes of smoke covering the sky. 

Luna, now back in shifter form, stares in fascination and says slowly, "D-a-m-n!" After a second, she adds, "I think we might have lost the porters."

As they are watching, the globe floats higher and higher, till it is a good two hundred feet above the ground. This gives the group a perfect view of the increasing devastation around them. It is quickly clear that this is not just a really powerful earthquake-cum-volcanic eruption. Huge explosions begin to occur all over the island, as if things underground were erupting, sending up puffs of earth and clouds of smoke. Clearly magical effects begin to appear in exponentially larger numbers. What seem to be huge fireballs explode here and there, with lightning lashing back and forth or leaping from the earth to the sky. A huge bank of clouds appears within moments, accompanied by thunderclaps that almost deafen the hearers. Black, acidic rain pours down, accompanied by a fusillade of lightning bolts, and a shower of hailstones.

Corven looks at the other spellcasters. "Storm of vengeance?!" Both Nameless and Luna nod silently and go back to watching the outside.

Beneath them, the city and the island continues to break apart, the crevasses growing wider and deeper. At one point, some of them think they see something colossal (much larger than the dragon) twisting and turning deep below in one of the crevasses, but then the falling debris covers it. Over the next fifteen minutes, the majority of the city is either destroyed or simply subsides into the ground.

Finally, there are a few moments of relative silence. "You think it's over?" asks Gareth.

"No," says Six, pointing towards the mountain. As the others turn to look where he is pointing, the entire mountain is simply vaporized in a blast of brilliant light. Six, who is facing right towards it, has his mechanical eyes seared and rendered blind immediately, as does Dala, while the others manage to shield themselves just in time. The blast explodes outwards, enveloping the globe with the adventurers in searing light. Luckily for them, the bubble seems impervious to the effects.

A few seconds later, light fades away, to reveal that the mountain is missing, with a huge mushroom-shaped cloud in its place. The island as a whole is almost denuded of vegetation, only charred husks and ashes left in the aftermath of the blast. But the final effect is yet to come. As the adventurers watch in awe, the island literally crumbles apart beneath them. It gradually subsides into the ocean around it, leaving behind only small barren islands to form presumably the world's quickest-formed archipelago, where a hundred mile wide island was less than an hour ago. A huge tidal wave rushes away into the distance as a sign of the island's passing, while the mushroom cloud still marks where its central mountain last stood. 

As the blast passes, the bubble slowly descends to the surface of the small island below. Once it settles on the rocky surface, it disappears, leaving them standing on the ground. The adventurers stare around at the area and each other, before Nameless sums up what just happened. "I think we can scratch that idea for having our own special vacation spot!"

***
The group gets to spend the next 15 days waiting for the ship to return to fetch them, exploring the area, discussing what happened and what the future holds, examining the magic items they recovered, and generally keeping themselves occupied as best they can. Luckily, both Six and Dala recover their vision in around a day, so they can help with all of the activities. 

Experimentation and the use of multiple identify spells reveals what the various magic items are. While many are similar to (though all stronger) magic items that the Angels possess and others are at least ones they have heard of, some are new to them. The three especially interesting ones are the warforged harness, the wand and the staff. The harness is designed to boost the strength and toughness of a warforged, with the linked boots allowing movement under difficult circumstances. There is also a self-destruct mechanism if the wearer is slain, as the group already knows. Corven manages to disable the last and also to remove the boots from the rest of the harness, on Six's request.

The wand, once per day, lets the user access a cubical (2 ft on a side) storage space that exists extradimensionally. After some discussion, the group lets Corven retain it. He temporarily uses it to store his homunculus, which has thus far been traveling in the bag of holding that Ghyrra had loaned the group (which Nameless takes, since it seems that Ghyrra will not be needing it returned). 

The staff is even more idiosyncratic and perfect for the group's unexpected situation. Once a day, when placed upright and activated, it grows into a twenty-foot tall sapling, which forms an opaque sphere around it that provides protection from the elements. The sapling also appears with a number of berries (which work as a goodberry spell), one apple (which replicates a vigor) and one tangerine (with the effects of a combined remove disease and neutralize poison), which wither away if not eaten within a minute of plucking.

The most important magic item, of course, is the dragonshard. Nameless first studies it with a detect magic, learning that it not only gives of strong auras of every magical school, but also has overwhelming auras of divination and abjuration. While he is studying it, Gareth is nearby using a detect magic on Kizmet, which has regained its magical powers a day after the explosion. Gareth suddenly notices that not only does he not detect anything from the dragonshard (about thirty feet away), but Nameless and his magical items do not detect as magical either. He points this out and, after some experimentation, the group learns that the shard not only cannot be detected as magical from more than ten feet away, but also prevents anything within five feet of it from detecting as magical either.  

The Angels learn is that it is designed as a key to work with dimensional locks, being able to both lock them more tightly and to open them. It is, however, dependent on life energy from living creatures. Evidently creatures that provide it energy (assuming they survive) are bonded to it in some way. These discoveries are as dependent on supposition and what they have seen as on the identify spell, which provides little real information about it. 

As far as being bonded to the shard is concerned, each of the adventurers discovers in a day's time that he or she has developed a small deep blue tattoo on the chest. So too have Dala and Arrok. The tattoos detect faintly of magic too, with moderate auras of divination, enchantment and abjuration. The Angels have varying amounts of suspicion where these tattoos are concerned, with Six being especially uncomfortable. 

The group discusses what to do with the dragonshard and how to keep it safe. Nameless is especially proprietary about it, carrying it around strapped to his chest. Corven raises the question of whether it would be safer in an extradimensional space but Nameless says that might be risky. Gareth is especially uncomfortable about Nameless' ability to use the shard (when he asks about it, the mage says only, "I know what I know") and his interest in it. 

The paladin, however, has other issues to distract him. He asks Nameless what the daelkyr said to him after he used Kizmet on it and Nameless translates, saying that it called Gareth a fiend. The others also ask about the sword and Gareth relates how his father owned it before him and the story of the Battle of Grace, where he gained the sword and his paladinhood. After that, he spends a lot of his time praying and attempting to commune with the sword, mostly to no avail. All he achieves is feelings of satisfaction and relief from the sword, and nothing else.

The group also spends some time exploring the remnants of the island in the ocean below them, or rather Nameless, Luna and Six do. Nameless finds a number of useful spells in the necklace of the phantom library to aid there, while Six's lack of a need to breathe and Luna's ability to turn into a fish allows all three to spend significant time underwater. They discover that the island has actually subsided to the ocean floor half a mile below and that it still retains the misty barrier around it, which now covers it like a shell. This causes some problems for them but they do eventually manage to penetrate it. Though most of the island and the city is now undifferentiated rubble, they do manage to recover a few relics that Dala says will be valuable to Kidro. Strangely, they encounter almost no dead bodies (none have floated to the surface either), whether of animals or elves or giants, almost as if they had been completely wiped out of existence.

Nameless spends some time talking to both Dala and Arrok, impressing upon them the importance of not letting anyone know about the dragonshard. He explains that they've already seen what kind of devastation it could cause and that many dangerous individuals and groups would be interested in it. Dala agrees and promises to not mention it in the detailed description of the expedition that she has been making. She says that he will simply mention the battle against the daelkyr and the following cataclysm, without any reference to a second dragonshard being recovered. Arrok is not particularly interested in the dragonshard and is instead concerned about what this whole bonding issue means. Nameless says that he will investigate and let both of them know what he finds out. He also tells them that if they ever need help, they should contact him and he will aid them in whatever way they can. Both Arrok and Dala thank him and comment that, in view of what they've already experienced with the Angels and seen of their prowess, they are very appreciative of the offer.

Corven, who has been especially interested in the similarities between the cataclysm and what he knows of the Day of Mourning, makes copious notes about whatever the others tell him about the island's remnants and accompanies them on a couple of occasions. Nameless points out to him too that he should be careful about whom he shares that information with. Corven says that he definitely will be wary, but finding out about the source of the Day of Mourning is something that is very important to him (as well as to most Cyrans), so this may be an important event to that end. He promises to be careful to not endanger the group in any way through his investigations.

Lastly, the group travels, via magic and Luna ferrying people over in wildshape, from island to island until they reach the edge of the new archipelago. Figuring that they are at the approximate point where they expect the ship to show up, they make camp and continue with their various activities. 

***
During the morning of the 23rd, Luna changes into an eagle and flies some distance out to sea. After an hour or two of soaring high in the sky, she spots an approaching wind galleon. Flying down, she finds it to be the Sea Sprite, and lands next to the helm, transforming back into her shifter form and startling captain Sovelon. She quickly tells him that they "blew up the island but are safe", which confuses him even further. However, he steers the ship in the direction she indicates and soon reaches the little island where the group is.

After the group is ferried to the ship on one of its boats, Sovelon has a huge number of questions for them. Arrok deals with him while the others depart to some comfortable berths, and the ship heads for Stormreach. The gnome soon rejoins the others to say that apparently Stormreach was hit by the storm surge created by the explosion of the island (as Six had surmised), but it did no real damage due to having dissipated over the five hundred mile distance. 

The wind galleon makes good time, reaching Stormreach early the next day. The group thanks captain Sovelon and embarks. Arrok has his own place to stay and leaves, saying he will meet the others at the inn. The rest head to the Bloody Giant and get themselves rooms. Dala says that they will be leaving for Sharn in two days and departs to send a message to Kidro from the Sivis station. Gareth accompanies her. At the station he finds a letter from his family that arrived three weeks ago, the day that they left for the island. There is also a shorter one from Lalia that arrived around the same time. 

When he returns to the inn, the Angels have a protracted discussion about what sources they can safely utilize to learn more about the Key. Nameless and Gareth get into one of their usual disagreements, with Gareth wanting to consult the Archierophant and Nameless wishing to show it to Trillia, with neither of them really trusting the other's choice. As a compromise, Nameless suggests that they contact the Gatekeeper druids in Sharn. Since the Gatekeepers were the ones who created the dimensional seals that block the connection of Xoriat to Eberron, they should be the best people to talk to about something that apparently works with the seals. Both Corven and Six support his idea, and Gareth agrees. Interestingly, Luna is the one who seems least interested in dealing with the druids. When asked why she isn't expressing an opinion about the matter, she finally admits that she's not that keen on the other druids because they "keep asking me to do stuff for them!" She does, however, say that she thinks they're the best option mentioned thus far.

With that decision made, Gareth and Nameless then find another subject for disagreement, namely the fact that Nameless is walking around with the Key strapped to his chest. Gareth thinks this is an incredibly unsafe way of transporting the Key, not to mention being openly uncomfortable about Nameless having such control over it. Nameless argues that the Key is safer with him than with anyone else and (presumably made a little cocky by having survived a dragon and a daelkyr) that any fool who tries to take it from a mage of his power might as well be committing suicide. This disagreement spirals, as ever, into accusations about each other's reliability and trustworthiness.

With the argument showing no real sign of being resolved, the others cut it short by saying that they're off to get something to eat. The squabbling pair grudgingly end their fighting and follow suit. 

* As I told John, who was expressing the opinion that the NPCs would be toast in the 1st rd - "Never doubt my NPC's skills!"
** Nameless, crucially, managed to dispel a Mage Armor, Shield and a Resist Energy (fire) spell, without which the dragon would have had an AC of 39 (effectively unhittable for the PCs) and fire resistance 20.
*** Gareth picked the one cursed item in the room to try on. I let him use 2 action pts to get them off.
**** Took her exactly to -10. To quote John: "Rend? It has REND?!" (Which was followed moments later in the fight by Avi: “Action points? Your dragon has ACTION POINTS?!”)
***** One piece of info the PCs' Knowledge checks didn't give them.
****** Went to -20+
******* Exactly -10 too
******** I had the players, without discussion, each write on a sheet of paper how many hit pts they were willing to give up. Other than Six, who retained 10, every PC (and Dala and Arrok) gave up all except 1 hp, which would have effectively killed them if their Bear's Endurance spells ran out. Very impressive - and crucial.


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar:

Session 25 - March 4, 2006

We walk through the cavern, and enter a room only to see a Silver Dragon as it is about to breath heavily upon us a blast of cold. Most of us are able to make it OK from the blast and we quickly jump into battle. After a few moments I notice the dragon has some lesions on it. I start to run up to fight and my boots take control; I start to dance – only to realize my boots are cursed with Otto's Irresistible Dance! I drop to the floor, and through grace of the Silver Flame am able to remove the boots. This wastes valuable time, and the rest of the group is in their grove. Nameless casts his area spells, but catches Arrok – on purpose – inside the sphere. Note: I need to speak to Nameless about sacrificing group members for his plots. While it turned out OK in this instance, it is not OK to sacrifice group members. The ends do not justify the means. The dragon begins to radiate her fear power, which I am – through the grace of the Silver Flame – immune to. My convictions, and courage inspire the group and help those near me, though Six and Corven are terrified – and rightfully so. 

Six tries to talk to the dragon – why I do not know, but even with my skill in diplomacy, I do not try such a tactic – as I think it would be a waste. The dragon responds and tells us she will kill us.

Finally, after removing the boots I am able to get up, I charge the dragon and call upon the power of the Silver flame to smite her causing some serious wounds in two hits. While hurting the Tyrass, it also draws her attention. She bites down on me and after I fall, she slams me with one of her wings – winking me out of consciousness. 

I wake up later, to find the dragon dead and Nameless bathing in it's blood – drinking as deeply as possible. He shouts to us "Bathe in the blood" and I do so, but I do not drink it. Nameless has a crazed look in his eye, and this worries me – especially considering what he likes to delve into. The ground starts to shake, and the group runs down a corridor. We encounter two iron golems along the way, but Nameless is able to control them – probably due to the drinking of the Tyrass's blood. We then climb onto Luna, who is in dragon form and she bounds off taking us faster then we could normally run.

The group mentions the dragon said "The sword is the key, but the key is not the sword." Everyone looks at me, and then at Kizmet. I tell them it was a good thing we went and rescued Kizmet, though I worry if I will have to sacrifice Kizmet to stop this menace. We finally reach our destination.

We prepare ourselves for what will have to be a huge battle – and luckily we do. There is a mist in front of us, and my dark vision cannot penetrate it. We hold onto each other and walk through – but only a short walk. What we see is a large chamber, and in the center of it is a dimensional seal. This is similar to one we have seen in our earlier exploits – when we met the druid Gurr'khan. On the seal lays a two foot long dragon shard and a column of light. 

We then feel this imposing presence on our heads, and we get a view of Eberron from high above the sky. We see creatures next to us – and they stare at Eberron and we realize they shape Eberron to their will. It is a strange sight, and I think this information will be valuable to the church. 

Nameless summons his bison and there is some grin on his face – I am not sure why, but it looks like he is chuckling to himself. Then, Nameless does something very uncharacteristic of him – and I later find out it was due to some vision – he flies towards the dragon shard to grab it, putting himself in harms way of the Dalkyr that just materialized – though not fully. After he grabs it, he flies back and tells us that we need to sacrifice our health for the dragon shard to work. I sacrifice everything I have, short of dropping me unconscious. 

A beam of light shoots from the dragon shard and hits that daelkyr in the chest. The creature looks injured and I step into action. Corven destroys the tail of the daelkyr, removing a great threat. Six trips the creature, while the Bison continue their assault. I charge up ahead and raise Kizmet to strike at it, when a vision enters my head.

I am at the Battle of Grace, looking through the eyes of my father. I know this, because I can feel Kizmet in my hands, and I can see my limp body a few feet away. I feel anguish at the falling of my son, and then a sensation pervades my body – Kizmet is giving me a command. I raise Kizmet to the sky and an intense shimmering field surrounds me and the demon – the demon is banished. 

Instead of swinging Kizmet onto the creature, I hold it up and a shimmering light appears. The same as before, the field engulfs the daelkyr and the creature's skin starts to flake away. Then the daelkyr says something odd, something I do not learn until later due to the nature of the language. It calls me a fiend. I am not sure why it would call me that – but I do not think it was lying – as it has no need to lie. I also do not think it was incorrect. I then get slammed by the daelkyr by a wave of force and I hit the wall – unconscious. A moment later, Dala stands next to me healing me – the first thing on my mind is the lack of sentience from Kizmet, in addition to that – all of it's previous power – I do not sense it. This seems to happen often, but not having time to dwell on some issue I stand up and try and exorcise it hoping to stun it for a moment. Unfortunately, there is no effect on the creature. The group continues to pound it, with more bison being summoned. Everyone begins working on trying to get the daelkr into the seal and as he gets close the seal absorbs him. 

The dragon shard, all of a sudden, leaves Nameless and is placed into the dimensional seal, firmly in place and hopefully keeping what is there locked up. The ground begins to shake, and Nameless spies another Dragon shard. He grabs it, holding onto it tightly. We mount up on Luna and get out of there as soon as possible. We charge the way up as the mountain starts to collapse on our heads.

A few moments later we all rouse up, realizing we are stuck under a mountain of rubble – probably going to die here. We can still hear rumbling in the distance, and then the dragon shard starts to glow and a sphere of some kind emerges – growing ever so, encompassing all of us and moving the rocks out of the way. The dragon shard flies up, taking us to safety and as we are in the air we can see the mass destruction. Nameless, Luna and Corven mumble the words "storm of vengeance" There is a huge flash of light, and as we turn around we can see the entire area was vaporized, and the island just sank. We land on a barron piece of rock, what could arguably be called an island. 

We spend the next few days identifying the items we found and splitting them up. I got the ring I tried on earlier – Nameless finally agreeing with me. He is more happy about this decision because he can then use his poisonous spells without having to worry if I will get hindered by them. Luna, Six, and Nameless delve into the water to look for anything they can find, and only do find some mundane artifacts which we give to Dala.

Nameless straps the dragon shard to his wait, which given his size – a two foot long piece looks odd. He says he will hold onto the shard and we should keep it a secret. We start to argue. I tell him that he is not going to hold onto it- none of us are. We are simply not equipped to be a safe house for this device – which we have no idea what it is capable of. For fifteen days we argue, while the rest of the group contemplates suicide or drowning Nameless and I. 

Finally the boat arrives, and we start making our way back to Stormreach. I receive a couple of letters from my mother, and grandmother as well as a letter from Lalia. I write back to them. We prepare to head back to Sharn – and I am looking forward to getting there.


----------



## shilsen

*Session 26 - Back to Sharn (or "He killed whom?")*

Gareth Byron Deneith - Human Pal3/Clr2/Exorcist of the Silver Flame3
Korm'akhan - Orc Drd7/Hexer1 (replacing Corven)
Luna - Shifter Drd8
Mithral 6 of 6 - Warforged Ftr2/Scout4/Extreme Explorer2
Nameless - Human Wiz6/Alienist2

Dala returns soon to say that she has sent off a letter to Kidro and expects that they will receive a reply the next day. She also brings the group the second part of their payment, as well as news about things that have been going on in the month and a half that the expedition has been gone. Six also goes and gets some copies of the Korranberg Chronicle to supplement her information.

Sharn has apparently been suffering from an epidemic, which began very shortly after the group. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people fell ill, with perhaps scores dying. It seems that the problem was with the water supply, which is also why the fish in Sharn Bay had been dying and becoming sparse (the Angels had heard of this before they left) for a few weeks before the disease hit. Luckily, the epidemic seems to be dying down now. 

They also hear that Merrix d'Cannith has made a controversial offer to the warforged in Sharn, promising that House Cannith will find jobs for any of them who come to work for it and, if possible, buy out the contracts that many signed immediately after the War, which effectively function as indentured servitude in the Cogs. Merrix apparently addressed the Sharn city council about it, and the council has neither ratified the offer nor have they enacted any legislation against it (which translates to a tacit acceptance). People have had reactions ranging from seeing it as a very humanitarian offer to one that is intended to allow House Cannith to build up a warforged army. People with the latter belief claim that an ongoing fact-finding expedition into the Mournland, organized by Merrix with the aid of Morgrave University and Prince Oargev ir'Wynarn of New Cyre, is only intended to further increase Cannith power. 

Of less interest to the group is the news of the Race of Eight Winds, the primary annual sporting spectacle in Sharn, having taken place. Dala, on the other hand, is quite excited, the person she bet on having won her a nice sum.

In news from other parts of Khorvaire, Queen Aurala has agreed to meet King Boranel in Wroat to further develop ties between Aundair and Breland. In a more unusual diplomatic move, Boranel has signed a treaty with Droaam for the latter to provide aquatic troops to defend Brelish ships, which have recently suffered from attacks by sahuagin and other creatures. "Oh, great!" says Gareth at this piece of news. "Now we'll have sea trolls along officially!"

An equally controversial move is Aundair's decision to ask the Church of the Silver Flame to help with a sudden increase in lycanthropic activity in western Aundair. These new lycanthropes are apparently of the 'horrid' variety that some of the druidic faiths breed and some Aundairans accuse the Eldeen Reachers of sending them into Aundair. The Church - and Thrane - have accepted and are sending priests and templars into Aundair to investigate. Nameless says to Luna, "And here we go with another purge!"

Karrnath, on the other hand, seems less interested in building bridges with its erstwhile enemies. The Academy of Magical Warfare has opened in Rekkenmark, to a huge uproar in other countries (and from moderates in Karrnath), who claim that it is tantamount to an open preparation for war. Karrnathi representatives, naturally, claim that this Academy is simply a matter of self-defense. Gareth isn't surprised at this news, since he has already read about it in the letters from his family.

An unintended piece of support to their claim has emerged from the Mror Holds. For the last few months, House Lyrandar has been working with the Mror clans on a project to build a large tunnel right through the southern mountains, which would make trade between Karrnath, the Mror Holds and the Lhazaar Principalities much easier. A few weeks ago, those working on the tunnel broke through into a huge cavern leading to the depths of Khyber. This cavern promptly disgorged thousands of aberrations, which slaughtered the workers and are now causing significant destruction in the southern Holds, with some having entered eastern Karrnath. In the aftermath of the event, Dulkan of Valshar'rak, the primary planner for the tunnel, was revealed to be a Cultist of the Dragon Below and fled his home in Fairhaven. An embarrassed House Lyrandar has announced a significant reward for information about his whereabouts, while the Mror clans have announced an even larger reward for anyone who can close the cavern. While reading about this story, Nameless remembers something he had seen months ago in Sharn. In a chamber occupied by a group of dolgrims and dolgaunts, he had read scrawls on the wall about a hoped-for attack on the surface world, with references to a tunnel leading from light into dark and releasing the darkness. Not having bothered to translate it for his companions then, he doesn't bring it up now.

Besides the news from mainland Khorvaire, the Angels also hear from people in Stormreach about recent events here, such as a small tidal wave hitting the area a couple weeks ago (presumably the one created by the destruction of the island), a sahuagin tribe killing a kraken which was attacking a ship just entering the northernmost Straits of Shargon, and an announcement by House Vadalis of plans to set up hunting expeditions for wealthy clients to Xen'drik.

After checking all the news and wrapping up supper, the group slowly heads up to their rooms. While they are doing so, Nameless receives a sending from Trillia, which says, "Trillia here. How are you? Busy with research. Attempting new spell for detecting Xoriat denizens and creations. Finally achieved valences of fifth power. Any news?" 

Nameless quickly replies, "Congratulations. We fought dragon and daelkyr. Gained insights. Prophecy follows us. Will need to consult you. Need dragonshard info, but secrecy paramount importance."

Before retiring, the group discusses what to do with the Key, which they decide is too cumbersome - and risky - to carry around as Nameless has been. They eventually decide to keep it in the Hidden Chest that Corven's wand opens. They activate the wand, place it in there and close it. With no evident effects to the action, they head to bed. Other than Six, who goes back to his usual night-time crafting.

Around six hours or so after they put the Key into the extradimensional space, Six notices a strange throbbing (but no pain) where the tattoo on his chest is, along with a very strong desire to be close to the Key. Going to wake his companions, he finds that all of them have awoken with the same effect. Corven tries to open the Hidden Chest, but unfortunately, it is not yet accessible. With no real choice, the Angels go back to bed. Despite the discomfort from the throbbing, they do manage to fall asleep. 

***
When they wake from uncomfortable sleep, the throbbing sensation is stronger. This time Corven manages to activate the wand and they quickly remove the Shard. Immediately, the feeling of wanting to be near the Key fades away, and the throbbing does so slowly. Nameless tries putting the Key in his magical haversack, which is also an extradimensional space, and the effect begins again. He quickly removes it and the group discusses what to do. They eventually decide to get a case for the Key and carry it around, later getting one for each of them so that it is difficult for someone to locate and take from them. 

Shortly after they awake, Arrok stops by to say that he experienced the same feeling as they did at night. Not wanting to wake them in the middle of the night, he put up with it till the morning and came to the inn. Naturally, he is not happy about this development and asks the group to let him know as soon as they work out what all of this means.

While he is there, Nameless receives another sending from Trillia, this one sounding very curious about what he said, especially the daelkyr. He explains as much as he can in 25 words and reiterates the need for secrecy.

When Arrok leaves, Dala goes with him. She returns with Kidro's reply. She says that once they are back in Sharn, Kidro and she will take care of cataloguing the items that they recovered. While the Angels can retain the magical items they have, Kidro should get to see them, though she doubts he will want any. Lastly, within a couple of days of their return, they will have to talk to people at Morgrave University about the expedition, which is also probably where the story will get into the papers. 

The rest of the day is spent in making plans and doing some shopping in Stormreach. Gareth writes and sends off letters to his family through the Sivis station. The Angels also experiment a little more with the Key and work out that it is exactly six hours of time in an extradimensional space that triggers the throbbing and strange desire. They also notice that their tattoos are very slightly larger. 

***
Early the next morning, the group embarks on the ship back to Sharn. It is the Wave's Bounty, the same ship they came to Xen'drik on, and the captain Syrina d'Lyrandar and her first mate Bly are there to welcome them. Even the reclusive Aereni artificer Daelan makes a quick appearance and then disappears below decks again. Arrok accompanies the group to the ship and takes his leave, saying that he will meet them in Sharn in a week or so, after he has dealt with some work that he needs to.

The ship pulls away within an hour and heads north. The adventurers settle back into their shipboard routines. To their partial surprise, the voyage is completely uneventful, or at least uneventful when it comes to creatures trying to (a) board the ship, (b) eat them, (c) both of the above. There are, however, a couple of interesting experiences along the way.

Four days into the voyage, Gareth has a strange dream... 

He finds himself floating in the middle of a featureless expanse, surrounded by gray mist, which resembles what he saw around the island. Some distance in front of him floats Nameless, facing away at an angle. In front of Nameless floats the Key. He reaches forward to grasp it. The Key flares with amber light, which fades quickly. Nameless pulls the shard towards him, doing so in small jerks, as if it were resisting in some way. Finally, he pulls it to his chest. As he does so, he steps back as if something knocked him backwards, but he remains upright, the Key still held where it is. 

Then he seems to realize that Gareth is there and turns slowly to face him. When he does, Gareth sees that his eyes are completely white, with no variation between pupil and eyeball. They remind him of the eyes of the daelkyr. 

And then Gareth wakes up. 

The same night, Nameless is having a remarkably similar dream. In his case...

He too finds himself floating in the middle of a featureless expanse, surrounded by gray mist, which resembles what he saw around the island. In front of him floats the Key, and equidistant from it on the opposite side, is a daelkyr. It doesn't speak, but it reaches up with its right hand and grasps the dragonshard, even as Nameless does so. The Key flares with amber light, which fades quickly. The daelkyr pulls on the shard but Nameless' grasp is firm. After a second or two, he pulls the shard closer to himself. The daelkyr's expression doesn't change and it says nothing, but he can feel its anger and frustration. It raises its left hand and Nameless hear the hiss of its whip. The whip lashes out, hitting him on the chest, but it bounces off as if he were made of adamantine. Nameless pulls the shard a little closer. This time, a scowl crosses the daelkyr's face. Its brow furrows in concentration and he feels it attempting to insinuate its will into his. Again, Nameless feels it fail. This time, the daelkyr actually shudders and its form begins to dissipate. So does its grip on the shard and Nameless pulls it closer. As the shard touches his chest, the fading daelkyr lunges forward. As it does so, it changes form, its humanoid shape turning into that of a small dart-like tentacle. The tentacle strikes Nameless square on the forehead, knocking him back a step or two. This time, there is a sharp pain. There is a piercing sensation and he can actually feel the tentacle slide through his forehead into his head. Then the pain fades away. The daelkyr is completely gone and Nameless has the Key safe in his grasp, held tight against his chest.

That's when he gets the feeling that someone is watching him. Nameless turns to see a humanoid form half-hidden by the mist. The mist begins to part and then ... he awakes.  

The next morning, Gareth tells everyone, including Nameless, what he dreamt of. Nameless also explains what it was that he saw. The Angels discuss what it could mean, especially the fact that each was in the other's dreams (which does lead to some ribbing from the others). Gareth theorizes that the daelkyr is still trying to control Nameless. Nameless thinks that might be possible but confidently says that it won't succeed. He also says that he should know more once he has been able to spend some time with Trillia, who has been using sendings daily to learn more about the group's discoveries. Nameless also mentions that they might want to talk to Havakhad, since his people know about the quori and the plane of dreams.

In general, the Angels spend a fair amount of time discussing what they will do once back in Sharn. Corven tells the others that he is going to talk to people at the Cyran embassy about what they discovered (he promises not to mention the Key they have) and if possible, head back to the remnants of the island to study its relationship with what happened in Cyre to create the Mournland. This is something that is personally important to him and it is his first priority. He says that he will stay in contact with the rest of the group and thanks all of them for their aid in the time he has spent with them.

The only other thing of note as far as the voyage is concerned is that the tattoos continue to grow, until they are nearly four inches in diameter, before stopping. The fact that they have apparently stopped growing only mildly reassures the adventurers, none of whom is happy with their unforeseen venture into body art. Six, with his hat of disguise, manages to keep the one on his chest hidden, but is not any happier about them than the others.

***
Meanwhile...

...in a dark room somewhere, lit only by a solitary torch, shadows swirl around a large desk. The room is sparse, with little furniture except for the desk, three comfortable chairs around it, and a series of large bookshelves, which stretch from floor to ceiling.

A cloaked figure lounges at the desk, the shadows making his form indistinct, his digits tapping idly on the wood in front of him, rhythmically repeating the same pattern, over and over and over. The woman sitting across from him leans forward and asks, "And you are sure that they will return?"

The reply is deep and calm, but with an undertone of amusement. "Yes. They are already on the way."

"Very well. But does it really matter? Why them?"

"Because they will be perfect for our ... for my purposes. There are many other adventurers in Khorvaire, but these are uniquely suited to the work I have in mind. Much more uniquely than most. Believe me, I've looked."

The woman doesn't sound convinced. "What makes them that perfect? That prophecy?"

The other person laughs derisively. "Pah! Prophecies are for fools. We can make or mar them as we please."

The woman shrugs and says, "If you say so. But what if they will not perform as you wish?"

There is a pause and then a short chuckle, rife with anticipation of forthcoming amusement. "Oh, they will perform all right. And if it isn't exactly what I have in mind then I will find another way to use them ... or break them. A tool is always useful, even if sometimes only to hone another tool on."

***
Eleven days after it left Stormreach, and forty-eight days after the expedition left Sharn, the Wave's Bounty pulls into the docks of Grayflood. Six looks up at the cliffs and, above them, the towers of Sharn. With a shake of his head, he says, "Giants, dragons and daelkyr, I can take. But this place is the one that worries me."

With wry grins, the others join him in making ready to disembark. The process, as usual, is longer than they'd like. The group has to work through all the various groups checking on customs issues, identification, etc. Even though Dala takes care of most of the paperwork and there are a couple of people from Kidro waiting to help the group, it takes them the better part of an hour to be done. Once they are, Dala takes her leave of the Angels, asking them to stop by Kidro's shop in the evening. 

After a short discussion, the Angels decide to visit Trillia first, so that Nameless can introduce them to her. They take one of the few skycoaches that comes to the Docks and head to Deathsgate. Trillia's house is a tower apartment a short distance from the Guild of Starlight and Shadows. It is unremarkable on the outside, other than having the Guild's sigil to indicate a member lives there. When Nameless knocks, the door is opened by a middle-aged man, whom he greets as Glauster.

He looks a little surprised at the number of people standing outside, but says that the lady has been expecting them and invites the group in. The inside of the apartment doesn't look much like a mage's abode, except for the odd arcane item, as well as a couple of slightly tentacular statues to indicate her interests. Glauster leads the group to a comfortable sitting room and leaves them there.

A couple of minutes later, Trillia enters to greet them. She is a pleasant-looking woman who looks to be in her early thirties, with bright green eyes and short blonde hair, a single streak of black running down the middle. Trillia wears comfortable robes as many of the middle-class wear, which again give no indication of her occupation. 

She greets Nameless warmly and follows suit to the others, as he makes the introductions. "I've heard a good deal about all of you," she says, adding with a broad smile to Gareth, "Especially you!"

Settling down comfortably, she asks the group to expand on their experiences, which she already has some idea of due to the sendings to Nameless. He provides a quite detailed coverage, with the others chipping as needed. Trillia asks a number of questions, seeming most interested about the Key. Nameless shows it to her and she asks whether the group would mind if she took some time to study it. Nobody disagrees, though Gareth adds that he would prefer it if at least a couple of them are present throughout. Trillia says she has no problem with that.

After hearing the entire story, Trillia admits that she has never heard of an item such as the Key. She has also not heard of dimensional seals in Xen'drik either, but says that it makes sense that the dragons would be involved with it, since supposedly it was a dragon called Vvaraak who trained the Gatekeeper druids, and they are the ones who created the dimensional seals. Nameless says that the group is planning to consult the Gatekeepers in Sharn and asks what she thinks. Trillia says she thinks it is a good idea, since the Gatekeepers are unlikely to spread the information around, which she warns the group to be careful of. After all, they have the first evidence that she has heard of a daelkyr being present in (or rather, near) Xen'drik, and there are more than a few individuals and groups who will be interested in that information.

At this point, Gareth mentions that he also wants to talk to the Archierophant about the Key, which promptly turns into another argument with Nameless. Trillia seems amused by the interaction between the two, simply watching until it begins to turn into a shouting match. Then she cuts in to say that the one downside with letting Ythana Morr (who she only knows by reputation) know is that she answers to the institution and hierarchy of the Church of the Silver Flame, so she has less freedom to act as she wishes than someone like Trillia has. Gareth agrees but says that the resources of the Church, which are significantly higher than that of either Trillia or the Gatekeepers, are worth tapping into. Corven then suggests that perhaps Gareth could simply wait for a couple of days, while Trillia studies the Key, before letting Ythana know. Gareth agrees, with the caveat that there should be complete disclosure of anything that is discovered about the Key, and that Nameless, who has been reticent to share his knowledge about using it, should do so too.

Nameless agrees and, for the first time, expands on what happened with his use of the Key. He says, "Actually, I don't really know how I activated it. When I saw it I knew what it was, and I knew I would be able to use it, though I didn't know how. And when I touched it, I immediately knew how to activate it. It's not so much conscious knowledge as if it was something I knew and could do automatically, like whistling a tune without thinking about it. Even now, I couldn't activate it by choice."

After hearing that explanation, Trillia wonders aloud if the ability has something to do with the dreams Nameless has had. Nameless suddenly suggests that she try the new spell she has developed on him. She looks slightly surprised but then does so. After some seconds of concentration, she says, "Interesting! Unless I am doing something wrong, you are apparently an aberration. A powerful one."

Nameless doesn't look particularly surprised, though this sets off another discussion of what it means. Gareth wonder aloud if the contact with the daelkyr and/or the close contact with the Key is changing Nameless in some way. Trillia confirms that Nameless is the only person in the group who appears as an aberration to her spell. With no real explanation at this point, she promises to study the issue further and see what she can discover.

Trillia then asks the group to join her for lunch, which they agree to do. During the meal they find her to be a witty and pleasant conversationalist. Gareth, to his partial surprise, finds her actually agreeing with him in a couple of places where Nameless and he disagree, though she does also tease him with a couple of off-color jokes about paladins. One of the primary topics of discussion is the Angels' apparent bond with the Key. Having heard about their reactions to having the Key separated from them by an extradimensional space, Trillia opines that it seems akin to a geas of some kind, compelling them to stay near and protect the Key. None of the Angels seem happy about the idea, especially Luna and Six.

Once they are done eating, the group prepares to leave. Nameless asks Trillia if it will be all right for him to stay at her place temporarily, and she says that would be fine. Gareth suggests that it would be safer to have at least one person with Nameless, so Six offers to stay, which Trillia also accepts.

After leaving Trillia's home, the group heads to Central Plateau and Carosten Park. Walking into the park, they head for the edge of the plateau, where the small stone building called the Gatehouse is located. When Six knocks on the door, it is opened by the half-orc druid Surr'kal. He looks surprised and says, "I didn't know that you were in town. Come in." As the Angels follow him through the small antechamber, a couple of them notice that he gives Luna a bit of a frosty look. They quickly discover the reason.

Surr'kal leads them into a small sitting room, already occupied by the shifter Teln and another figure. This one is a large and heavily muscled half-orc, with a scarred and remarkably ugly visage. He wears no armor and has on a long hooded robe, worn over clothing with tribal markings on it. He also carries an unusual-looking sword strapped to his back. Surr'kal introduces him as Korm'akhan, a druid who came to Sharn a little over a month ago. Luna and he recognize each other, having spent some time together nearly five years ago. Korm'akhan says that he saw Luna's former mentor, Gathaan, in the Eldeen Reaches nearly a few months ago, where he was tending a Gatekeeper observatory.

Once Luna and Korm'akhan have finished talking, Surr'kal says, "We could have used your help here recently. Remember the Children of Winter I had said were in the city?" He bestows another look on Luna and adds, "Whom I had asked you to check on?" Luna bristles a bit, thinking of commenting that they have a number of calls on their time and don't take orders, but restrains herself.

Surr'kal goes on to explain that the two Children of Winter had apparently created a lair in the Depths and found access to Sharn's water purification chambers. They had been poisoning the water supply with a disease-causing agent, and this was the origin of the recent epidemic. Korm'akhan and the other druids had been helping aid the sick in the poorer areas with magical and mundane healing, when they had met two members of the Church of the Silver Flame (a paladin named Cedric and a templar called Magnus) who were doing the same. The Angels immediately recognize Cedric and Magnus as the pair they had met in the Bloody Giant inn at Stormreach.

Korm'akhan, two druids who had come to Sharn with him, Cedric and Magnus managed to track the Children of Winter (a human druid and a shifter warrior) to their lair. After a mighty battle, during which the other two druids and Magnus were slain, they forced the severely wounded Children of Winter to flee. Korm'akhan and Cedric destroyed the poison-creating apparatus and returned to the surface. Thanks to their efforts, the epidemic is now apparently over, though there are still many sick people who will take time to recover. Having caught them up with the news, Surr'kal asks what they can do for the adventurers, though his tone of voice indicates that he might not be too inclined towards helping them in any way.

The tone changes quickly as the Angels relate some of their recent adventures, which occurs with constant interrupting questions such as "You killed a dragon?" or "You fought a DAELKYR?!" Once the Angels are done and have shown them the Key, Surr'kal says that this is one of the most fascinating stories he has ever heard. He also admits that he does not know about anything like the Key. After all, he points out, the dimensional seals that keep Xoriat at bay or the daelkyr prisoner were constructed 9,000 years ago. However, some of the greater loremasters among the Gatekeepers might know, and he promises to try to contact some of those outside Sharn. When he hears that the Angels have spoken to Trillia and she will be studying the Key, Surr'kal asks if he could join her. Nameless says that he doubts she would mind.

The Angels especially mention the issue of their bond with the Key as something they are concerned about. Teln suggests that since Nameless was able to activate it before, perhaps he could try to use it and remove the bond. Surr'kal looks a little skeptical but Nameless agrees to try. Corven volunteers as a test subject, saying that he is planning to travel back to the island (or its remnants) and study the phenomenon of the mist around it, and that becomes significantly difficult with the bond. 

Nameless takes the dragonshard in his hands, and as he thinks of removing the bond, once again he seems to know exactly how to activate it. A thick amber beam shoots out to hit Corven in the chest and he feels a draining sensation. To the surprise of everyone present, the beam then splits into two, half of it breaking off to hit Korm'akhan in the chest. The big orc looks surprised as he feels the same sensation. Nameless, though surprised too, continues to concentrate on removing Corven's bond. The amber beams pulse and both Corven and Korm'akahan turn ashen with the strain as the draining sensation intensifies to an incredible degree, making each feel as if he were dying.

The beams suddenly wink off, with both of them almost collapsing from weakness when they do. Quick investigation reveals that the tattoo has disappeared from Corven's chest and reappeared on Korm'akhan's (though smaller, like it had originally been on Corven and the others). 

"Well, that was ... unexpected," says Nameless succinctly. 

"And painful," says Corven, wiping away sweat from his brow with a shaking hand. "It almost killed me!"* Korm'akhan, who looks even grayer than he originally did, rumbles, "Me too!"**

Surr'kal hurriedly says, "I do not think we should try that again! Or at least not right now." 

Everyone agrees. Nameless adding that when he used the Key, he got the impression that the bonds can only be transferred to another random person within range (though he's not sure what that range is). Korm'akhan is naturally curious about what this bond entails for him and Nameless explains what they know. Even though Corven uses a couple of infusions to partly heal Korm'akhan and himself, the big orc agrees that they shouldn't try to remove his new bond yet, especially since they don't know whom it would attach itself to.

When the Angels are taking their leave, Surr'kal asks if they'd be willing to take Korm'akhan with them as added security for the Key. Corven points out that he will be leaving soon*** and the group could use another healer and Teln comments that Korm'akhan is a mighty warrior. The big orc says that he would be happy to accompany the group for the time being and the Angels agree. 

The group heads towards Menthis Plateau, exchanging information with Korm'akhan as they go. He says that he is trained in a rare branch of druidic ability, lacking Luna's ability to change shape into an actual animal, though he can change his form slightly to gain some natural abilities. He also claims to be a berserker. 

Gareth is especially interested in his unusually shaped sword, which is made of a dark gray metal. Korm'akhan says, "It was forged from the heart of a fallen star."

The group reaches Kidro's shop, Window on Yesterday, to find both Dala and him present. Kidro is very pleased to see them and, after being introduced to Korm'akhan, asks them to tell him everything that happened, even though Dala has already gone over it. 

Kidro listens with rapt attention to them, asking every once in a while, "And the island blew up?" 

After they are done, he asks if he could examine the magical items they found. Once he has done so, he says they can keep them and that he will get them a record of legal acquisition, which they will need to retain and use them. Kidro also says that they will need a letter of marque if they want to sell them, and in that case he might be interested.

Kidro also tells the Angels that there will be a meeting at Morgrave University two days later, on the 10th, where some of the recovered artifacts will be displayed and they will be expected to talk about their expedition. He says that there will be reporters from the Korranberg Chronicle and the Sharn Inquisitive present, and opines that they will be on the front page of each newspaper once their story is told. 

Lastly, Kidro provides the adventurers with the last third of their payment via a Kundarak banknote worth 5000 galifars. When he does, Nameless asks Kidro if he knows if the people who were lost on the expedition have families. Kidro says that he is taking care of it by selling some of the minor magical items that the group turned over to Dala and thanks him for his concern. 

Six pokes Gareth in the ribs and says, "Shouldn't you be the one caring about that?" but Gareth doesn't bother to respond.

When the group is leaving, Dala says that she will see them out. When they are outside, she asks if there has been anything strange with the Key. When Nameless asks why, she says that there was a message from Arrok waiting for her at home, which he had sent via the Sivis station the day after they left. It said that his tattoo became warm and began throbbing the day they left with the Key and he got this weird feeling that he should get close to it, just as he (and they) had felt when the Key was in the Hidden Chest. 

Arrok tried to ignore it but soon began to feel extremely ill. According to the message, he was taking a ship to Sharn early the next day, and he wanted them to make sure not to go anywhere or do anything with the Key. Dala asks where the group's accommodations are, since Arrok will presumably be there the next day and she can bring him to them.

This sets off another discussion, since various members of the group want to stay in different places. Finally, they decide that Nameless and Six will put up temporarily with Trillia. Gareth decides to go to the Cathedral of the Cleansing Flame, while Corven says he figures the Esoteric Order of Aureon will be as safe as can be. Korm'akhan says that he would be more comfortable staying at Carosten Park with the other druids and Luna decides to do the same. With that decided, the Angels take their leave of Dala and split up, heading in the various directions they want. 

When Gareth goes to the Cathedral, he finds (to his mild surprise) Bodo still there, studying at the school run by the Cathedral and now working there as a novice. The reason is quickly explained, since Bodo seems quite excited about the Silver Flame now, mainly because there are all these "cool stories about smiting bad guys" that he's heard and he believes that if he sticks it out long enough he'll eventually learn to use weapons and maybe get armor and a sword. Plus, he says, the food's quite good. 

***
The next morning, Gareth has a not-so-welcome visitor in the shape of Flan. He says that Killian has been expecting the Angels back and told him that they returned the previous day. Killian asks if the group can come by and meet him that evening, since he has some news and a proposition for them. Gareth says that he will tell the others and tentatively accepts.

Shortly after Flan leaves, Dala stops by with Arrok, who reached Sharn only an hour ago. They accompany Gareth to Trillia's home, where they speak to Nameless, Six and her. Arrok says that he is fine now, the sickness having disappeared a day after he took ship from Stormreach. The tattoo still had a mild warmth to it until he got to within a couple hour's sail from Sharn. He asks them if they have any explanation for it, saying that this is a serious problem for him and they need to help him get rid of this link to the Key. 

Nameless explains that they may be able to remove it, but it would be very dangerous and would only attach itself to someone else. Trillia reiterates her original theory about the geas, saying that the effects Arrok suffered sound a lot like what one could expect from the spell. She also says that perhaps after studying the Key they may be able to find another way to break the bond. 

Arrok doesn't seem very reassured, but sees that he has no real option besides patience. He says that he will be staying in Middle Dura and will see them at Morgrave University the next day. Dala and he then leave.

Once they are gone, Gareth tells the others (including Luna and Korm'akhan, who have stopped in by then) about the offer from Killian. Some of the others aren't keen on it, especially Six, but they agree to go along. So does Corven, who arrives a little later. The group then disperses again.

Gareth stops off at the Deneith enclave, where he finds Lalia very happy to see him back in town. She invites him to join her for an early lunch, during which he tells her about everything that happened on the trip (but omits anything about the Key). Lalia seems to find the story fascinating, saying that it'll probably be all over the newspapers after the talk at Morgrave University. As for herself, she says that she has been doing fine and has mostly been in the city in the interim. Tasra is fine too and both of them may be involved in a case shortly, since there's a possibility that some people are planning to sabotage the meeting between Queen Aurala of Aundair and King Boranel in Wroat. That's usually the kind of thing handled by the Citadel (the elite Brelish forces answering directly to the King, which also have an outpost in Sharn), but they may bring House Deneith in, just in case. She also inquires about Gareth's immediate and future plans, asking if he will he be in the city for long and whether he is planning to join the enclave after all?

Gareth replies that he does plan to be in the city for a while now and is interested in joining the enclave. He also offers any help he can about King Boranel and Queen Aurala. Lalia laughs at the latter offer, saying that even though she trusts him, the chances of a Karrnathi paladin being included in security issues for the King of Breland and the Queen of Aundair is only slightly more likely than Sharn being leased to Thrane. She does, however, promise to speak to people at the enclave about Gareth's interest in joining. She then takes her leave, since she is busy with the job that she mentioned.

After leaving her, Gareth goes to the High Hope district in Middle Northedge, where he finds Coldflame Keep, the local Silver Flame temple. There he meets Cedric as well as the elderly priest Mazin Tana, who is quite happy to see him. There are only a couple of acolytes, a crippled scribe and eight templars occupying the temple, which was clearly built to house maybe ten times the number and looks like it has fallen on bad times. 

Cedric confirms that is the case, saying that the Cathedral doesn't send as much money in the direction of the Keep as it could. Gareth and he discuss their recent experiences (during which Cedric mentions fighting the Children of Winter by Korm'akhan's side) while helping care for the remaining patients from the epidemic. The older paladin is very interested in the group's activities. Gareth asks Cedric and Mazin if either of them know about someone who might be an expert on outsiders, especially daelkyr, but that's only an area of partial interest for Cedric and Mazin has no expertise in it. Mazin says that there's nobody specialized in that kind of subject among the Silver Flame worshippers he knows of, not even the Archierophant, and suggests Gareth contact one of the local mage guilds. They both invite Gareth to stop by any time.    

While leaving the Keep, Gareth notices a strange sight some distance away. There is a thick 12 foot tall densewood pillar in the middle of an open space, which has an old gnome sitting on the top. She seems to be quite comfortable, sitting and chatting with people passing below, and evidently well-known, from the number of people who greet her as they go. 

Curious, Gareth goes over and greets her. She responds in kind and, during the following conversation, he learns that her name is Daca and she is a worshipper of Boldrei who has been living on top of the pillar for the last 120 years, keeping an eye on the community around her. While standing below her, Gareth feels a sense of calm and peacefulness that he has not elsewhere. 

Nameless, meanwhile, has been helping Trillia study the Key. This primarily consists of casting spells on it and finding that they have no effect. She also tries her detect aberrations spell on him and has the same result as earlier. 

Six, having spent some time with the two of them, finally gets bored and decides to take a walk around the city, as he often does. While he does so, he stops to buy a new bow that matches his enhanced strength and also checks on the House Cannith offer that he heard of in Stormreach. The opinions are as varied as he had both heard and expected.

Corven visits the Cyran embassy and meets with Tyrala. She is happy to see him back and curious about his absence for so long. He relates some of what happened on the trip and, as he expected, she is especially interested in his news about the similarity between the mist around the island and what he saw around the Mournland. When Corven expresses an interest in leading an expedition back there, she says that she doesn't really have the authority or funds to immediately make that a reality, but she suggests that he visit New Cyre and speak to Prince Oargev himself. Someone of Corven's abilities would be an asset to New Cyre even if he were not now the official head of his house. Corven tentatively agrees, asking her to contact Prince Oargev and let him know what he says.

Luna and Korm'akhan mainly remain in Carosten Park sharing stories of their experiences and engaging in some sparring practice. Luna, as is becoming her habit, also spends some time in eagle form, flying around and through the towers of the city.

All of them meet at Trillia's home in the evening, before heading down to Firelight and the Lucky Nines casino. On the way, Korm'akhan asks about this person they are going to meet and gets a number of opprobrious comments from the various Angels, with a minor defense from Gareth, based on their lacking proof of Killian's guilt. 

At the casino, they meet Killian at the same table as usual. After having been introduced to Korm'akhan, he is simultaneously jocular and sarcastic as ever, but is quickly cut off by Six, who says that he needs to get to the point about why they are there before they walk out. 

Killian then says that he has both news and a proposition. The news is about the gang war that had just erupted when the Angels left town, sparked by their attack on the Daask payroll. Killian says that the Boromars clearly had the best of it, inflicting heavy losses, destroying whatever gains Daask had made in lower and middle Sharn and forcing them back into the Cogs. With the difficulty of attacking Daask in their lair, they were unable to drive Daask out of Sharn, but seriously weakened them. "Now if people like you," says Killian with a mock-admonishing manner, "Had been there to take a hand, maybe they could have been broken and driven out completely."

"Not our business," says Six. "Is that your proposition?"

Killian looks a trifle irritated but says, "Yes. Would you be interested in helping drive Daask out?"

Six immediately says, "No" and the others agree, though Gareth suggests they consider the offer. Killian says that he's a little disappointed, but the Angels should let him know if they change their minds. 

Then he quickly changes tack, talking about their trip and how much he's looking forward to reading their talk at Morgrave University. Suddenly, he says, "By the way, I hope you are taking care of that Key."

Though somewhat surprised his knowledge of it, all of the Angels try to hide their reaction. In fact, nobody even responds to it. Six says that he's had enough, rises and leaves, quickly followed by Luna and then the others, leaving Gareth the only one at the table with Killian. The gnome tries to get some information about of the paladin but fails to do so and Gareth takes his leave a couple minutes after the others did. 

He finds them waiting for him in the entrance hall, where Nameless asks if he decided to do any work for Killian, since then he'll be working alone. Gareth replied that he didn't and the group departs, splitting up shortly afterwards. 

***
The next morning, they reconvene at Morgrave University. Before doing so, for reasons of security, they place the Key in Nameless' bag of holding, figuring that they will remove it as soon as they can, long before it can be a problem for them. The talk is in a large hall in the Dezina Museum of Antiquities. Dala and Kidro are already present, with Arrok expected soon. The reporters from the two newspapers are also there, with the KC one being Flim Turen, the Angels having told Dala to ask specifically for him in view of their previous interaction with him. There are also a large number of professors, students, antiquarians and generally interested people.

Shortly after they arrive, it is time to start and the Angels take their places. As they are doing so, the sphinx Flamewind walks in. She waves genially at the group and sits expectantly at the rear of the room. One of the professors present introduces Kidro. He, in turn, does a quick introduction of the people involved and talks a little about the planning for the expedition, before handing over to Dala. She does the majority of the talking, with a few comments from the Angels when asked. 

Once Dala is done, Kidro opens the floor for questions. As they had been warned, there are a lot of queries, especially about the island exploding. A couple of people 'politely' raise the issue of whether this is a neat way to avoid proving that the expedition actually happened, but Kidro quickly unveils the display of a number of the recovered artifacts. The questions then become a lot more general, at least a few having to do with the issue of the daelkyr, which the majority of the people present only know as a type of planar creature, and that too because they are at the University. 

After nearly an hour of questions, Kidro announces that the talk is over, promising that more information will be provided through the University and all of the artifacts will soon be on display. The meeting breaks up, with some people leaving and others coming up to talk to Kidro, Dala and the adventurers. Among them is Flamewind, who walks up to say that she's happy to see them all alive and back. Nameless tells her that they did manage to fulfill her prophecy, as she would have noted from their story. Flamewind smiles and says that he might be overestimating how complete it is, inviting them to join her some time to discuss the subject and perhaps answer some questions she might have.

As Nameless is agreeing, he is politely interrupted by a serious-looking gnome, who has just entered the hall along with four guards in City Watch uniforms. He says, "Are you the mage known as ... um, Nameless, belonging to the Guild of Starlight and Shadows?"

Nameless says, "Yes, I am. Is there a problem?"

"I need to speak to you privately, please."

A little suspicious, considering their current situation with the Key, Nameless says, "I would prefer to have my companions present."

"This cannot wait," says the gnome insistently. "Please come with me."

While the others are distracted with other people, Six notices the discussion and comes over. Nameless says, "Just my companion Six, then?"

The gnome hesitates for a moment and then says, "Very well. Please - come this way."

Nameless and Six accompany the gnome out of the hall and he leads them into the nearest unoccupied room, which is a large classroom. Once they enter, he gestures and two of the guards close and stand in front of the door. 

"So, what is this about?" asks Nameless.

The gnome looks up, quickly produces a wand (which he has evidently been holding concealed within his sleeve), and points it at Nameless. In a significantly more formal voice, he says, "Nameless - I arrest you for the crime of murder. Will you come quietly?"

Even as Six goes "What?!", Nameless - though surprised - calmly asks, "Whom am I supposed to have murdered?"

"Arrok Doone."

"When was I supposed to have killed Arrok?" asks Nameless.

"Around 7 pm last night."

Six and Nameless exchange glances, and Six says, "That's when we left Trillia's place last night." Nameless turns to the gnome and says, "I have half a dozen witnesses who were with me at the time. In fact, they are outside right now. Can I call them?"

"No. We'd prefer to keep this as private as possible. Please come with me. If your friends were with you, their testimony should help your case. I should say, however, that there were also a large number of witnesses to the murder."

"And that's proof in a city full of changelings and spellcasters?" says Nameless sarcastically. 

The gnome's expression gets a little grimmer and he says firmly, "Be that as it may, please come with me. Now."

Nameless and Six spend a few seconds trying to persuade the gnome to let them inform the other Angels, to no avail. Six decides on another method and begins to shout loudly, "This is an outrage! You cannot treat us like this!"

In the hall outside, Korm'akhan has been standing silently and watching the people mill around and talk. Despite the various voices around him, his keen ears hear Six's raised voice. "I think your friend is in trouble," he tells Luna, who is nearby. Both of them gesture at Gareth and Corven, who are talking to Dala and a professor nearby.

The four of them head down the corridor and knock on the door, before Gareth tries to open it. The guards inside promptly try to hold it closed. "Hey - what's going on in there?" asks Gareth.

"Nameless is being arrested for murder," calls Six. 

"What?" says Gareth, shoving the door, which opens slightly before the guards push it closed. "This is Watch business! Please wait outside!" calls the gnome, which everyone ignores. 

Korm'akhan joins Gareth and with his added bulk and strength, the two guards are easily shoved out of the way, allowing the four adventurers (and Dala, who has followed them) to troop in. The guards look helplessly at the gnome, who looks disgusted but says nothing to them.

The next couple of minutes are spent in explanations, with the gnome trying in vain to get the group moving. The other adventurers all vouch for Nameless' whereabouts, and the gnome only says that their testimony will be noted at the Watch House. Gareth asks for identification, and the gnome displays the insignia of the Blackened Book (the branch of the Sharn Watch focused on magical crimes) and identifies himself as Warden Hasal Dalian. 

Finally, after the situation has been explained to the others, Nameless agrees to go along with Hasal. The next problem occurs as he goes to hand his bag of holding (which holds the Key) to Six.

"Excuse me," says Hasal, "But I need to take all of your equipment into custody, in case they're germane to the investigation."

Nameless shakes his head and says, "I'm sorry, but the items in here are not mine. They belong to the group."

"That's fine. If they aren't relevant they'll be handed over. Please give it to him." Hasal indicates one of the guards.

This promptly leads to another disagreement, with the Angels continuing to argue that the items in the bag belong to them and not to Nameless and are irrelevant to the case. The only result, of course, is to clearly make Hasal more and more curious about what the bag contains.

It doesn't help, either, when Six says that they've had enough interactions with people who they don't trust. "What if you just take the bag and teleport away? We know many people who can do that!" Hasal's response to that is to raise an eyebrow and comment drily that Six must be mixing with more powerful mages than most in Sharn, in that case. 

The adventurers vainly try a number of methods to persuade Hasal to let them retain the bag. Nameless even finds himself in the unusual position of asking, "Don't you trust the word of a paladin of the Silver Flame?" when Gareth vouches for him and the contents of the bag. Due to the situation, nobody finds they might otherwise. Hasal responds, "I respect your position, which is why I'm glad you're not the accused. If you were, however, you'd be treated as anyone else. As will your testimony."

It's quite obvious that they are at an impasse. Nameless and the others refuse to hand over the bag and Hasal refuses to let Nameless hand the contents over to someone else. Hasal also, of course, lacks the manpower to take Nameless by force with the others present, and is apparently aware of that, having said that he has checked on the group at the Clifftop Adventurers Guild and on Nameless at the Guild of Starlight and Shadows.

Finally, Nameless suggests the compromise of getting Lalia d'Deneith to vouch for the group and possibly carry the bag for them. Hasal agrees that the Angels can send someone to contact her, but also sends off one of the guards at the same time, to inform the Watch House of the situation. Luna is the one to go and she leaves the building, transforms into an eagle and flies north. As she does, she sees the guard leave too and hurry off. 

* Took 10 pts of Con damage during the process, dropping him to 4 Con and 15 hit pts
** As above
*** Korm'akhan is Corven's player's new PC


----------



## shilsen

*Handled via email between sessions:*

Nameless says, "Officer - while we are waiting, if you could be so kind as to describe to me how I am supposed to have murdered Arrok? I am most eager to learn how I am supposed to have done this. Please spare no details. I am interested to see if I can figure out why I was stupid enough to murder him in front of so many witnesses." 

Hasal gives Nameless a dirty look and then turns to look at the people already in the room, with many more of the curious onlookers. He looks at the two guards blocking the entrance and says loudly, so that everyone outside can hear, "Clear the area outside." Then, raising his voice, he says even more loudly, addressing those outside, "This is official Watch business. Please leave now, for your own safety." 

The two guards look warily at the number of you in the room and then exit. You can see and hear them firmly persuading people to leave, who grudgingly do so. Flamewind, who has padded down the corridor to look into the room, looks past them at your group and smiles. "It seems like excitement dogs you in more ways than one. Once you are free, drop in on me." She turns and leaves. Dala, who had quickly entered the room when Gareth and Korm'akhan did, calls to the concerned (and confused) looking Kidro that she will see him later and that she's sure the problem will quickly be resolved.

Once the corridor is clear, the guards return and - at the Warden's order - shut the door. Once they have done so, he says, "I cannot share too many details, since they may matter to our determination of your innocence, but I can say that Arrok Doone was killed by a series of magical spells," he grins mirthlessly and adds, "in a particularly cowardly manner. The first of them rendered him too weak to resist and the next two killed him, as well as destroying substantial property in the inn. Apparently he knew his murderer, since he was speaking to him in the inn's common room when he attacked." 

He shifts in his seat, continuing to keep the wand pointed at Nameless, and adds, throwing a look at the bag. "Frankly, I would have considered that you might be innocent, if it were not for your refusal to hand over whatever is in there, even if it means hindering a member of the Watch in his work. Now, innocent or not, I can promise that you will see the inside of a cell today. And we will find out what you are hiding."

Gareth puts in, "Speaking with someone does not imply familiarity with them. I speak with store vendors all the time. I speak with people on the street about the virtues of the Silver Flame - at no point does any of that imply that I know them or they know me. When you ask directions to get to some place, does that imply you know the person you are speaking with? I didn't think so. Also, in this day and age with changelings and spells of illusion - do you think it is that hard for someone who wants to frame Nameless? Nameless, who happens to be well known in many circles is a prime target for fraud." 

"As for the evidence of the bag, I can assure you it has no relevance to this matter, and the bag and its contents are private. They also do not belong to Nameless - he is just an interim bearer. As for witnesses, you have all of the people in this room - people in good standing with the law, and have served the community in a positive manner - such as the incident with Zokar - who are witness to Nameless being in our presence during the time of murder. There will be no jail time for my client, who is innocent - and I might add - is cooperating with this farce of legal proceedings. The evidence, at best, is worthless." 

Nameless also adds, ""Ah, I am disappointed to hear this, I had expected more from whom ever is trying to frame me. The person who murdered Arrok was shockingly sloppy to have killed him in this fashion. Since necromancy is a barred school of magic to me and thus I am incapable of having cast Ray of Enfeeblement to drain him of his strength. Though I am uncertain as to how one would prove this to a non-mage. My mentor Trillia Lelleir may be able to enlighten you further on this score However, I do have some bad news for you on this score. It does indicate that whom ever did frame me is likely considerably more powerful than I am. Since Arrok was no weakling, it would likely take someone significantly more powerful than I am to have drained him with a single spell. Was he rendered unable to move at all or was he simply trapped by the weight of his equipment? That information may help you narrow down the list of candidates."

"I am aware of how suspicious my behavior with regards to the bag is and I apologize for all the hassles we are putting you through on this score. Unfortunately, proving my innocence in this matter is not my highest consideration in this matter and the items in the bag are not mine to surrender. It is highly likely that the whole point of this exercise officer, is in fact to separate me from the items I was carrying. I would recommend in particular, that you place especially close guard on the necklace that I was wearing. If we are very lucky then that is all they are seeking. In any case I would expect at least one attempt to steal something."

"One further point I would make is that we are all just returned from an extremely hazardous expedition to Xen'drik. Of which Arrok was one of the few survivors. We can fill you in on the details, but if I had wished for Arrok to die, it would have been simplicity itself to have had him perish on that expedition. Despite our best efforts, all too many did." 

The gnome gives Gareth a look and says, "You may be a paladin of the Flame, but you talk like a lawyer. And as someone who knows the law, you know that any of his possessions - private or otherwise - are possibly evidence, and that he doesn't really have a legal choice in the matter. In refusing to hand that bag over and accompany me to the Watch House, he's down for resisting arrest and obstructing an officer of the law. Which, frankly, all of you are too now. Witnesses or no, murder means a trial and jail time before the trial. Your testimony would be really helpful during the trial, but it doesn't change the fact that he's currently under arrest." 

He pauses and then adds, "As for the person who killed Arrok, he apparently walked into the common room and was greeted by him, before they took a seat at the table, where they began to talk. Or so a few people verified. As for framing your friend here, I think you're either overestimating his importance - or you have other secrets to reveal. While people at the Guild of Starlight and Shadows said that Nameless is a powerful mage, and I know you have appeared in the Chronicle, I'd hardly call him a great target for fraud."

When Nameless comments further on the frame-up, the gnome perks up. "Interesting! Arrok was actually affected by a ray of enfeeblement first, and since all I said was that he was rendered too weak to resist, I wonder how you knew that was what I was talking of. As you would know, there are other ways to weaken a target. As for the question of necromantic magic and whether you can use it or not, even to a non-mage you'd only have your word to prove it." He smirks and adds, "Or were you planning to prove that you cannot cast such spells by not casting them?" 

Nameless' following comments about the bag and someone wanting his items do seem to intrigue him. "What the heck are you people carrying that you're so paranoid about it? Especially to the point where holding on to that bag is worth more than proving your innocence? Or that necklace? Since I'd offered to let all of you accompany me, it's not like that's something you should really worry about since you'd be there to protect it from thieves, as well as me and my men. Unless you're going to say that you think I'm here to steal all your special things too." He gives Six a dirty look and says, "Since you think I'm about to grab it and teleport out of here. Do you know how few people can do that?" 

Dala, who's been standing quietly and digesting all of the above, says at this point, "Be that as it may, Warden Dalian - we do have some reasons for being worried, which we cannot share. Personally, I would have warned you that this is probably a frame-up intended to obtain some of our valuables, handed over the bag and accompanied you in a group. But since that's not an option any more, I hope you won't hold our caution against us. Arrok was a friend of mine and I definitely want his killer caught."

The gnome looks only slightly mollified at her speech and says, "Call me Hasal. And if you want the killer caught, you'd help with our inquiries rather than wasting my time here. Dagger take you - do you think this changes anything? Unless your friend is one of these great teleporters, she's never going to make it back here before one of my superiors arrives. And when that happens, I'm going to have to take you," he nods at Nameless, "in - bag, necklace and all. Unless you decide to resist arrest with violence, of course, in which case you're going to be in a lot deeper a pile of  than you already are."

Hasal scowls and adds, "Just remember - I am an officer of the law, representing the city of Sharn and the nation of Breland. I am fully empowered to use any magical means in the carrying out of my duty, and I will fulfill them, whatever the risk to myself." The wand in his hand twitches, as if to underline his statement. From the looks on the faces of the three guards in the room, they're not as keen on the idea of having to take your entire group down.

Gareth replies diplomatically, while trying to look directly but non-offensively at Hasal, "I sound like a lawyer because I study the law. I like to keep informed of these things, especially when situations may arise and I need to be familiar. I am aware of our legal rights, and your legal rights." 

Looking a bit sympathetically towards the gnome, he continues. "We are not trying to impede your investigation, we are not trying to resist arrest. I am a paladin of the flame, a blood member of the Deneith enclave, and soon to be an active member. Personally I have no desire to jeopardize any of those claims, I also have no desire to start a war with Sharn - which while it may cause the death of me and my friends, would surely cause a lot of collateral damage for Sharn." 

Pausing for a second, to help emphasize the point, he adds, "We have helped Sharn in many ways - some we can lay claim to, and some we will never lay claim to - just because it endangers innocents. The reason we cannot turn the contents of this bag to you are simple - the contents do not belong to any of us in this group" Raising a hand to silence any protest, "It is not stolen, but I cannot explain further. We cannot give you these contents, not for this investigation or any investigation. If this means you will hold us in contempt - well c'est la vie. I would hope that you wait until Sentinel Marshall Lalia Deneith shows up. She will be able to disarm the entire situation. If you can't, I understand, but please bear no ill-will towards us, for we do what we have to do - not what we want to do. Just please note, and I must emphasize - not through any threat from us - this association with us has put your life, as well as the lives of everyone in this room in grave danger. In the case of my group, it has increased our chances of being murdered. Please bear with us and if your watch commander shows up, convince him that we have no desire to hinder an investigation. On my word as a paladin of the Silver Flame I swear this. In the end, you might even ask us to find this killer for you - especially if he is powerful enough to kill Arrok." 

Hasal listens quietly to what Gareth says and it does seem to improve his attitude a bit. In fact, he does seem a little amused by part of what he hears. He laughs and says, "Start a war with Sharn? You folks are really funny. What do you think you are - the Karrnathi army?" The laughter, however, is more friendly than earlier.

When he stops, he leans forward and says, "Listen - I can see, unless you're all really good at faking things, that you seem to think you're doing what you need to. But you have to understand my position too. Whether you want to hinder an investigation or not, you're doing so. I'm not supposed to be sitting here and talking to you right now. The only reason I'm doing so is because I'm trying as hard as I can to avoid having to use force. All of your fascination with that bag and its contents doesn't change the fact that I do need to take it - and everything else on you, Nameless - into custody. And while I'd be happy to have Lalia d'Deneith carry it, she too will have to hand it and the contents over when we get to the Watch House. She doesn't have jurisdiction here, and even if she did, I doubt she'd try to change the laws for you."

He seems to think for a moment, and then says, "I'm asking you politely one more time to hand it over and accompany me. All of you will be along to protect whatever the hell it is you want to, and so will myself and my guards. If people are after you and whatever you're carrying, and if that's the reason why Arrok Doone was murdered, then you're in just as much danger here as accompanying me, so that shouldn't change anything. The only reason you could possibly have for not handing this over and accompanying me is because you think I'm personally trying to take whatever it is away from you. Is that what you think?"

Gareth replies, "I appreciate all that you can do for us. While I definitely understand your position, please understand ours. I know the Watch is not concerned with our affairs, other than this murder investigation, but they are of concern to us. As innocent citizens, for our affairs to be destroyed would be also an injustice and we just ask for a little bit of patience. We will even help find who the real murderer is. I am willing to wager Arrok was killed because he was an associate of ours, but how anyone in Sharn knew this - since Arrok just arrived is beyond me. There is only one person, that I know of, who always seems to know what this group is doing - but I do not know why he would want Arrok - a complete stranger to this land - dead." Pausing for a moment, "That is neither here nor now. If you can at least wait until Sentinel Marshal Lalia d'Deneith arrives, that would make things a bit easier for us. We do carry valuable objects, and we are wary about those - but we carry things that we must retain - not because of any form of greed, but for safety sake."

Hasal shrugs and says, "Like I said, I'm willing to wait for the Sentinel Marshal, but I had to let the Watch House know, so it may be out of my hands shortly." 

"As for Arrok, he's not really a stranger here, though he generally stays in Stormreach, I believe. Since he came here by ship, it presumably took some planning and maybe he let someone - or more than one - here know he was on the way. And even if he didn't, it's not that difficult - and doesn't take that long - to get information across from Stormreach to Sharn. And we're talking about at least one pretty proficient spellcaster here, after all." He looks speculatively at Nameless as he speaks. 

Dala interrupts and says, "If it helps, thought we did not know Arrok would be coming here when he left Stormreach, he sent me a message through Sivis here to say he left the next day."

Hasal scratches his chin and says, "Thanks. Somebody could have got hold of that message, and maybe there's more we don't know of yet."

After a few seconds of thought, he asks, "And who is this person who you said knows what this group is doing? He might have no connection with this murder, but one never knows."

Gareth responds politely, "Thank you for at least giving us the time that you can. What Dala says is true - we did not know Arrok was on his way until he had already left. I am not sure if I understand what you said - has Arrok been here before? As far as I knew he has never been to Sharn - but then I have not known him long. He fought by my side, but we did not have time to get personal. This person, as we know him, I will not mention his name in the presence of your other soldiers. That will be something left to those who will question us privately." 

Pausing for a second, he adds, "You and your organization may never be able to find him. Once this nonsense about it being Nameless who committed the murder, we will be happy to find him for you."

Hasal gives Gareth a long look and then says, "Has anyone told you that you people are a little paranoid? And about things other than being part of a murder investigation - and, whether it is your intent or not, obstructing an officer of the law - which does tend to be the primary focus for most people in your situations. Still, we all know you adventurer-types tend to be a little ... unhinged. As for finding this person who you're so reluctant to name, I think you might be a little surprised at your resources. Still, assuming you all end up in jail for hindering an investigation - which is possible - perhaps helping us would be one way for you to show your good faith. Once we're done with this nonsense, as you term it." His tone of voice says that he didn't appreciate the 'nonsense' comment, though he doesn't sound too offended. 

Hasal continues, "As for Arrok, according to our information, he lived in Stormreach, having moved there years ago, but used to visit Sharn on and off. Many people at the inn knew him." As he says this, Dala corroborates with a nod of her head and a "Yes." 

Hasal doesn't respond but continues, "The fact that Nameless isn't a Brelish citizen, as is true for many of you, does also affect this investigation. Even if Nameless is innocent, for the time being we have a case where an non-Brelander has killed a Brelish citizen. Be glad I got here first and not the Guardians of the Gate. Though - considering the delay you have caused me - that may not be the case much longer."

Realizing the slight, Gareth says, "No offense was meant, my apologies. I am just frustrated at this. You are doing your job, and being very diplomatic as well as showing great concern for people you do not even know. You are correct, we are a bit paranoid - but we have dealt with many things - including assassins - on top of the 'normal' denizens of dread such as dragons, daelkyr, vampires, and that doesn't even cover the scum of the earth - other humanoids who show no respect for the good of the world." 

"I did not know that about Arrok. I thought he was a complete stranger to Sharn. Maybe someone here, who knew him, wanted him dead and figured we were good scapegoats. At the very least, it is causing you to spend time with us as opposed to searching for the murderer(s)." 

Feeling a bit of a twinge when Hasal mentions the difference of rights from a natural born citizen to a foreigner, Gareth continues, "Will our testimony - all of our testimony - not be enough to corroborate his whereabouts last night?" 

Hasal waves away the apology with a "No problem," though that belies his earlier tone of voice. He says, "Yes, I heard that you'd have some interesting tales to tell about your expedition to Xen'drik. Pity I couldn't attend." He grins and adds, "I was too busy getting ready to arrest Nameless." 

When Gareth brings up the possibility of some enemy of Arrok's killing him, Hasal says, "Perhaps, but even that person would have to be someone with a fair amount of knowledge about you, in order to - even temporarily - fool him into thinking that he was Nameless." 

"As for your testimony, since it seems that so many of you were with him at the time, it should suffice. Foreigner or no, you still have your rights under the Code of Galifar. At the trial you'll be standing on an Eye of Aureon and there will be other checks in place to ensure that you are unlikely to all be able to lie on Nameless' behalf, even with magical aid. Remember, this isn't the first time we've had magic used to try and frame someone. If you have been framed, Nameless, we'll find out soon enough." 

Meanwhile, Luna flies straight for the Dragon Towers area, where the dragonmarked houses have their enclaves. Luckily that's among the closest sections of Central Plateau to where she starts from. Even so, it's a good mile away, but her speed as an eagle eats up the distance quickly. Though she has to slow down to make her way through the towers to the Deneith enclave, it's still only a little over five minutes before she gets there.

Luna quickly lands in the area before the doorway to the Deneith enclave, startling a number of the people passing in and out. The guards move to stop her, but they lower their weapons when she explains that she's there to meet Lalia and has been sent by Gareth. They let her in but she quickly discovers that Lalia is away, as is Tasra, on some job for the enclave. The receptionist says that he can check to see if someone knows where one of them might be. 

Luna realizes that doing so, then tracking Lalia down and taking her to Morgrave University will take a long while, assuming she is even able to do so. She flies back to let the others know.

She reaches Morgrave University and arrives outside the entrance to the building they were in perhaps twenty minutes after she left. As she arrives and before she can change form, Luna sees a group of five people heading into the building. 

Three of them are wearing Watch uniforms and  breastplates, as well as carrying halberds, as were the guards who accompanied the gnome trying to arrest Nameless. One is the guard who left. Beside them is a middle-aged man with long hair tied back in a ponytail and a neat beard. He wears no armor or obvious weapons other than a dagger at his belt, and as Luna sees him, is putting away a wand. Next to him is a serious-looking dwarf, dressed in well-crafted plate mail, which bears the symbols of Breland and Sharn. He has a flail in his right hand and is carrying a tower shield that is actually taller than him. 

The dwarf seems to be arguing with the wand-user. Luna hears him say, "Damn it, Balan! I'm telling you - we should have brought more men. If they're resisting arrest, what's to stop them attacking us or trying to flee?" 

The human replies calmly, "They haven't attacked Hasal or his men, have they? Let's just see what is going on." Then he enters the building, followed by the grumbling dwarf and the guards.

Luna considers a distraction such as setting something nearby on fire or perhaps even summoning a pack of dire badgers or the like. Considering that she is in the middle of a heavily populated campus, as well as the fact that her companions might not want a violent response - or at least not right now - she reluctantly gives up the option of flame and mayhem. Instead, she quickly flies down and towards the window to the room her friends are in.

Inside the room, the conversation/argument has mostly died down, when everyone is momentarily startled by an eagle flying in the window and landing on the floor. The startled guards raise their weapons, while Hasal jerks back in his seat. The eagle quickly changes form, enlarging and growing into the shape of Luna.

"Humph!" says Hasal, a disgusted expression on his face, whether for the guards (whom he motions to lower their weapons), the adventurers, or himself. "I should have remembered that your friend here is a druid. Well? What about Lalia d'Deneith? Has she decided to leave you holding the bag?" 

Luna explains that unfortunately Lalia was not available, since she was on a job for the enclave, as was her sister. 

She is just completing her explanation when there is a knock on the door, followed by a voice asking, "Hasal?"

Hasal calls, "Yes, we're in here." As the guards are opening the door, he says, "That's Warden Balan Cord. He's one of my superiors. You can explain the problem to him."  He sounds relieved.

The door opens to reveal a middle-aged man with long hair tied back in a ponytail and a neat beard. He wears no armor or obvious weapons other than a dagger at his belt. His cloak has the sigil of the Blackened Book on it. Next to him is a glum-looking dwarf, dressed in well-crafted plate mail, which bears the symbols of Breland and Sharn. He has a flail in his right hand and is carrying a tower shield that is actually taller than him. Behind them are another three men in the armor of the Watch, carrying halberds, one of whom is the man sent to the Watch House.

They troop into the room, which is now beginning to get significantly crowded, with the six adventurers, Dala, Hasal, the two new arrivals, and the six guards. As they enter, the dwarf begins, "What the bloody hell is goi...", but is cut off by the bearded man. "Please, Kestran," he says, causing the dwarf to subside into a glowering silence.

The bearded man continues, speaking in a friendly manner, "Greetings. I am Warden Balan Cord of the Blackened Book. This," he indicates the dwarf, "is Lieutenant Kestran Dal, of the Guardians of the Gate." 

"I believe there is some ... problem here?"

Hasal quickly replies, "These people say that they were all with Nameless at the time of the murder. I told them that they could  give their testimony at the Watch House but he," pointing at Nameless, "Wouldn't hand over his belongings before we left. Or rather, that bag. There's something in there that they won't hand over. They seem to think this was all a setup to get whatever it is."

He looks a little apologetic as he ends with, "I figured I should try to let you know, rather than trying to use force."

The dwarf looks like he's about to say something but is forestalled by Balan, who says, "Good choice," and then addresses all of you. 

"You must understand our situation here. We are in the midst of a murder investigation, and one that involves a former Cyran killing a Brelander in front of a crowd of people. While it may be the frame-up you claim it is, the situation is still a sensitive one. The fact that your refusal to comply with Hasal's directions means that you are effectively aiding and abetting Nameless in resisting arrest doesn't help matters. I ask you, Nameless, with all due politeness, please hand over the bag and your other possessions. I promise that whatever you have of value will be kept safe and handed over to you or your companions as soon as possible."

Balan is obviously a trained speaker, and he's clearly trying to be as diplomatic and persuasive as can be.

Nameless says, "I apologize for the trouble we have caused you and your men over this issue. I simply wish to have my companions accompany us and that at least one of us stay with the bag at all times." 

"This is for the sake of your men as much as anything else. It is not that we question the honesty or reliability of your men, but that if my fears are correct and someone is after the bag and its contents. Then your men are likely to prove insufficiently powerful to protect it. Someone with a substantial amount of magical power, has gone to a fair amount of effort to frame me for the murder of someone I have no reason to kill and can easily prove I did not. It is unlikely that they did so simply to inconvenience me and that they are prepared to overcome whatever your normal protections and defenses are." 

Before Balan can reply, Kestran breaks in. "Listen, you - this isn't your decision to make! Just because Hasal didn't have the balls to [there's an indignant "Hey!" from the gnome at this point] drag your ass to..."

Balan, looking significantly pained, reaches out and puts a hand on Kestran's shoulder. "Please," he says, politely but firmly, "Let me handle this."

Kestran rounds on Balan. "You know the Guardians have jurisdiction here, Balan. He's a Cyran and this is a case involving foreign criminals. This is our job."

Balan holds the angry dwarf's gaze for a long moment and then says, this time less politely and more firmly, "Magical crime. The Blackened Book. That's all I need to know. And you don't have the resources to deal with this kind of situation. If you have problems with that, take it up with the court."

He turns back to Nameless, leaving a fuming Kestran, and says politely (pointedly more than he just was to Kestran), "I have absolutely no problem with your friends accompanying us, especially since their testimony will eventually be important. Similarly, they can be present while we check the bag and the rest of your belongings. If we find nothing that seems germane to the case, we will hand the items over to them."

He continues, addressing all of the room almost as if speaking before a jury, "At this moment, we have only the testimony of your friends that you were with them at the time of the murder. Until that is verified, I do have to take all necessary precautions, especially since you are apparently a very competent mage. Obviously I cannot allow you to travel in public with us while you have access to any magical and other dangerous items. If you believe we may be attacked along the way, the items should be no less safe with me, since all of you will be along to protect it, as will my men and I."

"Would you kindly hand over the bag to me then, if I allow all of you to accompany us?" 

Korm'akhan speaks up, addressing Balan "My name is Korm'akhan, and I speak for the Gatekeeper druids. I only met these people two days ago, so I cannot speak of their characters. But I can speak of the contents of the bag. Their concerns about it falling into the wrong hands are legitimate." 

"I am not connected to them or to you. I am neutral. So I will watch over the bag, here and inside your headquarters, if you will allow it." 

Balan looks at Hasal, who shrugs and says, "I don't know him. He wasn't in the records I checked."

Balan looks back at Korm'akhan. "You are free to accompany us and keep an eye on the bag, both on the way and at our headquarters, if you so wish and if you [he looks at Nameless] and your companions don't mind."

"Now if you'd hand the bag over and allow Hasal to check the rest of your equipment, we can be on our way."

Gareth, who has been keeping silent and trying to process everything, says, "I understand your concerns but we also have concerns. If you trust us to walk with you - fully armed - then why would it be an issue if we hold onto the bag? We are not attempting to resist any arrest, and we are all going to work to clear our friend's name - but the circumstances of this murder are very suspect. The only thing that can be linked to Nameless is that someone who looks like him committed this crime and that the person using the crime cast a spell that Nameless is not able to cast under any circumstances. Given the free range of illusion spells, changelings, and the like - we only ask for this one leniency. We want this murderer killed as he killed a companion of ours - but our fallen companion would agree with us if he were here to speak of it." 

Pausing after his speech, he asks, "What say you? We can end this quickly - Nameless will not have hold any equipment, I will hold the bag. I swear an oath as a Paladin of the Silver Flame that we are not trying to deceive you." 

Kestran immediately breaks in, "Silver Flame, Schmilver Flame! Just because yo..."

This time Balan snaps, "Kestran!" He quickly turns to Gareth and says, "There is a difference between allowing all of you to accompany us peacefully and allowing you to keep possession of possibly incriminating items. They would be easy to dispose of on the way, which it would be difficult for you to do in front of all of us here." He raises a hand and says, "Not that I'm saying you would, of course, but I'm just explaining why we need to take precautions. I must also admit that your vehement refusal to hand over the bag makes me a little suspicious. Let me emphasize that you are all being extended extraordinary levels of courtesy here. I hope you appreciate that."

Balan pauses and then says, "In view of your position as a member of the Church [he ignores some muttering from Kestran at this point], I'll let you carry the bag. All I ask is that you let me look at the bag's contents here, so that I will know on our arrival at the Watch House if anything has been removed." 

Balan steps toward Nameless, with Kestran promptly keeping step with him. Perhaps coincidentally, Balan takes a step to the side as he does so, keeping himself partly between Kestran and Nameless. Balan then extends a hand. "May I?"

Ignoring Kestran, and listening to Balan, Gareth says, "That is acceptable with us, Balan. We appreciate everything you are doing for us. You have my sincere thanks."

"You're welcome," says Balan. "I prefer to deal with issues such as these amicably, if possible." He grins and says, "The fact that I know a little something about your group's abilities, of course, has nothing to do with that decision."

With that little bit of levity, and ignoring the accompanying snort of disgust from Kestran, he turns to Nameless and reaches for the bag. 

*Email interchange ends here*


----------



## shilsen

*Session 27 - A Walk in the Park (or "How Big a Wolf?")*

Korm, who has been holding onto the bag, places it on the table between Nameless and Hasal and (with Nameless' agreement)  removes the items from it. Among them is the Key, which is wrapped in a cloth, and which Balan asks him to unwrap. 

Once all the items are on the table, Balan asks Hasal to check them for magic, which he does. The gnome studies the items carefully and begins to say, "Well, none of them are magica...", when he stops and furrows his brow. Some of the adventurers exchange glances, realizing what he has probably discovered.

Sure enough, Hasal looks carefully at those of them near the table and then around at the others in the room. Then he tells Balan, sounding a little puzzled, "Try a detect magic yourself." 

"Something wrong?" asks Balan, even as he casts the spell. 

"Just check the items and tell me what you see."

"Hmm - none of them appear magical, just as you were saying." And then Balan too realizes what Hasal has discovered. Not only do none of the items appear magical but none of the people around the table detect as magical either, despite the equipment they carry. And as they look around the room, they realize that the spells are working, since others in the room do detect appropriately.

"So," says Balan, looking at Nameless, "What's going on here?"

Nameless provides a quick explanation of the Key blocking some divinations, without going into any further details. Balan asks about its origin and is told that they found it on the island. Korm replaces it in the bag to prove what Nameless just said and Hasal and Balan check over the remaining items. 

Naturally, they have a few more questions, but Nameless emphasizes that it would be better to discuss these privately. Despite Kestran's evident and loudly expressed displeasure, Balan - who is clearly very curious about this news - agrees. He asks Nameless to hand over his spell component pouch and all magical items to Hasal, which the alienist does. 

Once he has, Balan comments that something else on him detects as magical, indicating the center of his chest. Nameless reveals the tattoo, and the others comment that they have them too, when Hasal points out that the others have similar auras. Balan, who comments on the fact that the tattoo has the same symbol as on the dragonshard, asks about the tattoo and Nameless emphasizes that this too should be discussed in private. 

After considering it for a few seconds, Balan decides that they should return to the Watch House. He says that now that they know exactly what is in the bag, they will know if anything is missing when they get there, and there is nothing there that they currently believe would be germane to the investigation. 

With that, the now quite large group exits from the room. And are promptly accosted around the first turn by Flim Turen, with a barrage of questions about whether they're all being arrested, why they are, what the Blackened Book wants with them, why the Guardians of the Gate are involved, and so on. 

Balan, who evidently knows him, fobs him off politely but firmly with the promise that he'll be told if there is any important news. All he says is that the Angels are required for an investigation and that's all. Flim tries directly questioning the adventurers or Kestran (who looks like he might brain the gnome), to no avail. He settles for promising to talk to the Angels later, especially their spokesperson Luna. Which leads to Gareth threatening (jokingly - probably) to gag her if she talks to Flim without the others and Luna to respond with a threat to sit on him as a bear. 

After leaving Flim behind, the group emerges from the building. Naturally, they draw a fair amount of attention from the students, professors and other people moving around the campus. Once they are outside the grounds of Morgrave University, Balan leads them to the nearest tower stairs leading down. 

The group descends to Middle Menthis and the Warden Towers district, which is clearly dedicated to the city Watch. Men in uniform move around the area, several of them greeting Balan and Hasal as they pass by. A large group of Watch members are practicing combat drills nearby on a field consisting of a huge platform linked to four towers. As Balan leads the Angels towards the central garrison building, he tells them that the Blackened Book has its headquarters here, which is why he arrived at the University so soon after Hasal sent the guard to fetch him. 

Once they reach the garrison building, Balan leads the group through the halls and corridors within to a large door that bears the sigil of the Blackened Book. The guards there salute and quickly let the group through into a large central chamber. Balan gives a couple of orders and dismisses most of the guards. Hasal too leaves.

Balan leads them into a large office, occupied by a couple of clerks and more guards. Here, Nameless is asked for his statement about his activities at the time of the murder, while two of his companions (Luna and Six) are simultaneously taken into separate rooms and have their statements recorded too. 

After that, Balan asks about the Key and the tattoo. Nameless reiterates that he would like to discuss these in front of as few people as possible, causing Kestran (who has been grumbling and complaining throughout the procedures) to snap and grab him by his shirt, hauling his face down and yelling, "That's not your bloody choice! Just answer the damn questions, you murdering bastard!" Nameless restrains himself and settles for fixing the dwarf with an unnerving stare, which he seems a little too irate to notice.

At which point Balan pointedly asks Kestran to let Nameless go and then asks the two guards present to escort him out, telling him that the Guardians of the Gate will be informed if their services are relevant here. A now even more incensed and protesting Kestran departs, swearing that this isn't over. Balan sends the remaining guards with him and dismisses the clerk as well.

Once he is alone with the group, Balan becomes much less formal than before and (after commenting on the joys of working with Kestran, whom he describes as "actually mental enough to think he's doing the right thing") begins to ask a number of questions. The Angels answer a lot of them telling him a little about the dragonshard, which they basically claim to have discovered on the island and know little about, and the tattoos, which they claim appeared on them after the battle with the daelkyr (which Balan apparently knows a little about).

An unknown reason for Balan's interest in the tattoo is revealed when Hasal returns to confirm what Balan sent him to find out. Arrok had a patch of skin removed from his chest, exactly where the tattoo would have been on him. Along with that information, Balan gives the group more details of the murder. It occurred at an inn (The Gray Goose) in Overlook, where Arrok was staying. He had just come down to the common room when the person impersonating Nameless entered. They greeted each other and took a side table, where they spoke for a couple of minutes before Nameless cast a ray of enfeeblement, which weakened Arrok too much for him to move. The mage then fired a lightning bolt at point blank range, almost killing Arrok and damaging tables and furniture, though none of the patrons (who were fleeing as soon as the spellcasting began) were hurt. He finished Arrok off with a volley of magic missiles, before picking his corpse up and leaving. As he left, he turned invisible. Arrok's body was found later, stripped naked and dumped, three towers away. Besides the missing skin, the only other noticeable thing about the body was the marks of what seemed to be a set of large claws on the shoulder.

Nameless comments that illusion spells like invisibility are also among those he cannot cast and then asks if they have any information what the two spoke of. Balan says that a serving girl had served them. Though she couldn't recall much, she said Arrok was asking the other if his research had found anything. 

Balan checks about the people who knew about the dragonshard and the tattoos, and the Angels confirm that it's effectively those of them in the room with him. Though a couple of others (namely Trillia, Surr'kal and Teln) know about the dragonshard, none of them knew Arrok. 

Balan also asks about the individual that some of them had mentioned as possibly involved with the murder or knowing about it. The Angels tell him what they can about Killian, whom he doesn't recognize by name or description. They confirm that they had been in the Lucky Nines casino to meet him. Nameless opines that he doesn't think the murder was his doing, since it seems much too overt, and says that they have some evidence that powerful people are aware of their activities.

After covering every helpful topic that they could think of, Balan tells the group that while he believes Nameless is innocent, they will have to continue the investigation and check with people at the casino and elsewhere who can corroborate Nameless' whereabouts. And, whatever information they gather, the case will have to go to trial, in anywhere from 2-6 days. During that period, Nameless will have to remain in custody, since the Blackened Book cannot afford to let a powerful mage who is a murder suspect wander the city, especially in view of his position as a foreigner. Balan adds that the Guardians of the Gate will probably try to have more of an involvement in the case, but he doubts they will succeed.

Nameless has no objections to the incarceration, but asks if at least his companions can take the bag of holding. Balan agrees, saying that he has no indication that anything contained within, including the dragonshard, is relevant to the case. 

Before the Angels take their leave, Balan asks them to stop by the next morning, since he may be able to come up with something to expedite Nameless' release. They agree to do so and leave. Six suggests that they return to Morgrave University and speak to Flamewind, as he has been wanting to do. The others agree and head up there with him. 

Once they reach Upper Menthis, Dala takes her leave, saying that she needs to meet Kidro and tell him a little about what has happened, though she promises to not reveal any of the information she has been keeping secret. Gareth asks if it's safe for her to be off alone, but she says that she has far too many things to do to be able to spend all her time under their protection. She promises to be careful and leaves. Corven says that he needs to leave too, since he has to meet Tyrala at the Cyran embassy. The others head towards Morgrave.

Nameless, meanwhile, is escorted to a small prison area. The route is along a couple of corridors covered in wardings and glyphs, which Balan has to allow Nameless and his guards to pass through. The cellblock consists of only three cells, all of them more comfortable than in a standard city jail. Balan explains that - while he is sure Nameless will do nothing silly in view of his accommodating behavior thus far - the cellblock is warded against teleportation magic and if someone tries to use it to enter or exit, he will be shunted through a number of the protective spells in the corridor outside. He also apologizes for the inconvenience of the stay here but Nameless assures him that he has known worse and understands that Balan has no other choice. Before leaving, Balan says that he will be back in the evening to speak to Nameless, both about whatever he discovers and about some options he has in mind. 

Once he is gone, Nameless settles down to an engrossing, if slightly one-sided, conversation with his pet rock, Edgar.

The others make a quick stop at the Commons, a large open-air plaza where dozens of vendors in food carts offer cuisine from around Khorvaire. Since most of the customers are students, the adventurers attract some attention, with a few people claiming that they had seen them on previous visits or during the talk that morning. The Angels chat about their past and make sure to provide noncommital answers to most of the questions about their current and future plans.

Afterwards, they travel to Lareth Hall and ascend to the top of the dome, where Flamewind has her chambers. The gynosphinx is home and invites them in. The adventurers settle down, availing of the fact that her chambers are both luxurious and seem primarily designed for a human occupant (other than for things like the giant scratching post). 

After being introduced to Korm'akhan, Flamewind asks where Nameless and Corven are. Six explains what happened with Nameless but says it's not a problem. Then they begin discussing the adventurers' experiences on the island and Flamewind's prophecy. She says that, from their description, obviously they have experienced certain aspects of it, but she is not sure when the other aspects will come into play. Though she has no control over her visions and only limited understanding of what they show, her experience shows that they generally take a long time to be completed. 

Six also shows her his tattoo and says that they all developed these after the battle with the daelkyr. He asks if she recognizes the symbol. Flamewind says that the serpent portion is one she knows as connected to the dragons of Argonessen and the other part is either a gem or a dragonshard. She also says that she hasn't seen the pair in combination before. 

Six then asks if Flamewind knows about any way to contact the dragons or anyone who can do so, which sends Flamewind into a laughing fit. She says that she's never been asked that question before, though she did have a prophecy that involved a certain group of people traveling to Argonessen. And they didn't return. 

Six explains that he believes the dragons have some connection with what has happened to them, and he has read in the library at Morgrave University that certain scholars believe some dragons involve themselves with the affairs of Khorvaire in disguise. Considering that their experiences will be all over the Korranberg Chronicle soon, it's possible that they will draw the attention of such creatures, and he asks Flamewind to let him know if she learns anything about it. She says she'll do so, though she warns that it's quite possible a lot of other people, not all of them friendly, will also become very interested in the Angels once the news is out.

Flamewind also asks if the group minds her studying the tattoos magically. The adventurers agree and she concentrates for a few seconds, before staring fixedly at Six's tattoo. Then she says, "Interesting. I just used the equivalent of the spell your people call analyze dweomer, which is one of the more powerful divinations, and I can detect absolutely no function to the tattoo." She looks at a couple of others and has the same response.

Korm then thinks of something. He turns his back, produces the Key from the bag, and says, "Try it again." A clearly puzzled Flamewind complies and says she has the same result. "What was that about?" she asks. Korm replaces the Key and turns around, saying, "I just thought of something that might produce a result. Apparently not."

After a little more discussion, the group takes their leave of Flamewind, with a promise from both sides to contact the other if they learn something that might be of use or interest.

They then head to Carosten Park, where they find Teln sitting outside the locked door of the Gatehouse. He says that Surr'kal is away arranging for a message to be sent to someone who can help with their questions. The Angels let him know what has happened, which worries Teln a lot. He is heading back to lower Northedge, where he normally lives, but suggests that they all stay in Carosten Park. 

Luna, Korm and Six decide to do so, but Gareth says he will stay at Coldflame Keep with Cedric and Mazin Tana. He travels to Northedge with Teln, who leaves Gareth eventually to head down to the Stoneyard district, where the shifter tends the parks and orchards. Gareth heads to the Keep, where he finds both Cedric and Mazin. When he tells them what has happened to Nameless, they both offer to help in any way they can, but there is little they can do.

The other three visit Deathsgate to let Trillia know what has happened to Nameless. She seems more amused than worried about him, and says that though she doesn't know Balan Cord personally, she has heard that he is a reliable and conscientious officer. Trillia tells the three that they are welcome to stay the night if they want, but they say their accommodations are taken care of and leave. By the time they are back at Carosten Park, night is falling.

Nameless, at approximately the same time, is visited by Balan again. He says that their investigations are proceeding and he has a fair amount of information corroborating Nameless' presence elsewhere at the time of the murder. Of course, as he has said before, this doesn't change the fact that the case needs to go to trial or that Nameless needs to stay in custody, but it makes him even more willing than before to trust Nameless and the Angels.

Balan then asks Nameless, "By the way, are you and your companions currently involved in any work for anybody, or expecting to be?"

"Not right now. Why?"

"I may have a proposition for you. If you are interested in helping us - and I mean not just the Blackened Book but the Watch in general - with some investigation or other way, that would allow me to let you free. And depending on your degree of success, it might make the authorities in Sharn look with some favor on your group, which is always helpful."

"Sure. What did you have in mind?"

"Let me think about it and let you know tomorrow, once all your companions are back."

With that, Balan departs, leaving Nameless to his thoughts. 

***
Next morning, the rest of the adventurers arrive at the garrison building. They are clearly expected and are soon sitting in a comfortable meeting room, where they are joined by Balan and Nameless. The Warden sends the guards outside and shuts the door behind them.

Resuming his seat, he tells the group that Trillia has corroborated that they departed from her house at the time they'd mentioned. A few people at the Lucky Nines casino have also confirmed that they were there and speaking to Killian. The gnome was not there at the time.

"In that case," says Six, "We know one thing. His ass isn't actually attached to that seat."

Balan looks a little confused and Six explains that they've never seen Killian anywhere other than at the same table. Gareth also mentions that as far as they know his name isn't Killian, but all they know is that the first syllable is "Thur".

 Balan asks how they know and Six relates a little about Killian mimicking the appearance of Kylyman d'Sivis. He also mentions that Killian wasn't actually pretending to be Kylyman and that Kylyman both knew him and didn't seem to actually be upset about it. 

Balan says, "Yes - the Sivis gnomes have a strange idea of games and competition. Anyway, if I do find anything important about this Killian or 'Thur ... whatever', especially if he's involved with the case in any way, I'll let you know."

Balan then goes on to tell the others about the offer he made to Nameless and that he has a couple of options in mind. One involves gladiatorial combat in Sharn, which is illegal but has a strong underground presence. There is one called the Burning Ring in Lower Menthis that the Watch is especially interested in shutting down. It is difficult to pin down since it appears at various locations and, or so Balan believes, the owners have links with the Menthis branch of the Watch. The Blackened Book has recently got involved since they believe that magical combats have been added to the list. There has also supposedly been a rise in fatalities.

The job is for the Angels to find out about the Burning Ring and preferably have at least one of them actually scheduled to fight in it, since they could inform Balan magically about the location as the fights were actually taking place. 

Another job has to do with the Sharn drug trade. The costliest and most dangerous drug on the street (or below it, since it's usually available in the shadow markets of the Cogs) is called dragon's blood, and is solely sold by the Daask gang, who seem to have the secrets of its manufacture. Balan says he has information that it is transported into Sharn in some other form and then converted to the actual drug. He needs a significant amount of the drug, both to test this theory and to try to create an antidote.

This particular job, therefore, will involve the adventurers traveling into the Cogs, attacking a location where Balan believes they can find quantities of dragon's blood (both in its final form and in the original version), and returning to him with it.

The last job is also the most nebulous of all. Balan says that the King's Citadel, the organization that functions as the eyes, ears and oftentimes sword of King Boranel, might be interested in their services. Considering the secretive nature of the organization, Balan cannot say anything about the job, since he frankly doesn't know what it is. 

What he does know is that if the Angels make the Citadel happy with their work, they will have made their future activities and life in Breland much easier. He warns them, however, that if the group does choose to accept the Citadel assignment, there will be no backing out after they have received the details of the job. So they should be very certain before they accept it.

The Angels then proceed to discuss the choices. Corven tells the others that he is going to be leaving them and heading to New Cyre later that day, so he doesn't take part in the discussion. Despite the lack of detailed information, most of the Angels prefer the Citadel job. Ironically Luna, the only Brelish citizen in the group, is the most skeptical about it, saying that getting involved with "the bloody Secret Service" is all she needs now! However, she agrees to go along with what the others decide. Korm, who knows little about the Citadel, is slightly skeptical too but says that Surr'kal asked him to keep an eye on and protect the others, and if that means working for the Citadel, then so be it.

Six asks Gareth whether his personal code will cause any problems for them, if it conflicts with what they are asked to do. Gareth tells Balan that Six has a point and says that he'd like Balan to inform the Citadel that he won't do anything that offends his personal code. Balan says that he doesn't think it'll be a problem, but they can bring that up themselves before getting any details of the job.

He produces an envelope that is addressed to Captain Talleon Haliar Tonan and sealed with the mark of the Blackened Book. Balan hands it over to Nameless and tells him that he should present it at the Citadel in Ambassador Towers, the building housing the main city jail as well as the headquarters of the King's Citadel in Sharn. The group should be there at 10 am the next day.

With that, Balan tells Nameless that he is free to go. As long as the case remains under investigation, none of the group should leave Sharn. It's quite likely, in fact, that the Guardians of the Gate have their names and descriptions out to all areas of egress from the city. Corven is a little concerned at the news and asks if he might have trouble, and Balan suggests that he get extra documentation from the Cyran embassy.

The Angels then depart and head back to Central Plateau. There, Corven leaves the others to make preparations for his journey. He says that he's planning to arrange an expedition to the island (or its remnants) as soon as possible, but it's likely to take months. He also says that he will most likely be in New Cyre throughout the time that he isn't in Sharn and asks them to contact him via the Sivis station there if they learn anything that might help him in his quest to learn more about the creation of the Mournland or if they need his help in any way. 

After he leaves, the others ascend to Carosten Park. There, they walk to the Gatehouse, where they find the door open and Surr'kal and Teln inside. Surr'kal welcomes them in, saying that Teln had told him what happened and that he's relieved to see Nameless free. 

He also says that he contacted a trusted traveler heading west from near the city, who will contact Gurr'khan and ask him to visit. Gurr'khan prefers not to visit the city, but with his ability to travel huge distances via plants, he will be able to do so as soon as he gets the news. And he is probably the best option in Breland for both finding and bringing one of the greater loremasters from the Shadow Marches or the Eldeen Reaches. It will, however, take well over a week for the message to reach him.

The Angels then begin to tell him a little about their experiences since they last met him, when they are interrupted by the sound of multiple screams from some distance outside the cottage, quickly followed by growling. Loud growling.

The adventurers, as well as Teln and Surr'kal, rush out. The source of the sounds is obvious. About a hundred or so feet from the cottage are four animals of immense size. Two are badgers, but each of them is fully ten feet long. And they are dwarfed by the other animals, two wolves which stand ten feet tall at the shoulder and stretch nearly twenty feet in length. The large dire bat flying above them is similarly dwarfed, while the burly shifter standing behind them is almost invisible in comparison. The animals are mauling an unfortunate family, who had presumably been enjoying the sights of the park only moments ago. 

As soon the Angels emerge, the dire bat flies towards them, screeching something as it goes. As if in response, one wolf and badger charge at them, though the other two continue to chew on the now dead family. The shifter too races forward at preternatural speed, his already feral expression turning more bestial. As he comes he roars aloud and large claws emerge from his fingers. Leaping through the air, he buries them deep in the pelt of Luna, who is the closest to him and already in bear form. She roars in anger and pain and claws back.

One of the last to emerge from the Gatehouse, Korm draws his unusual sword and then swears in orc as he recognizes the assailant. "It's the Children of Winter I fought!" Throwing a quick look at the dire bat, he yells, "That must be the other one. Spread out!" 

Before the others can comply, the bat screeches again and a thicket of thorny branches erupts from the ground around Korm and the others, holding most of them securely in place. The druids Surr'kal and Teln are able to pass smoothly through the branches as if they didn't exist, as is Luna, who ignores the fact that the her hindquarters are within the thicket. Korm, though he lacks their ability, simply shoves his way through the branches, ignoring the scratches they leave. Gareth is unable to do the same, but his heavy armor protects him from the thorns. Having emerged, Korm speaks an arcane word and hurls his sword at the dire bat. The sword zooms like an arrow at the creature, but at the last moment the bat swerves away and the sword flies back to Korm's hand.

Six, who is outside the area of the wall of thorns when it appears, has problems of his own. The huge wolf looms over him and bites down into his shoulder, pulling him off his feet. Surr'kal, having emerged from the far side of the wall, is attacked by the badger, which forces him to retreat back into the thorns and use them as a shield. Luna is already badly wounded by the immensely powerful shifter, and even though she manages to inflict deep wounds of her own, they seem to have less effect on her clearly berserk opponent. Teln heals her somewhat, but blood still streams down her fur.

The other two animals, having disposed of their victims, also head towards the fight, while the druid in bat form above brings down bolts of lightning. Just as things are looking very dire*, Nameless takes a hand. Ignoring the scratches from the thorns, he drops a dispel magic on the area outside, catching two of the animals and Luna's opponent. Though no change is apparent to two of them, the wolf that tripped Six promptly shrinks to a smaller size (albeit one nearly ten feet in length), with a comical look of lupine surprise. Nameless follows up by conjuring up a bank of solid fog centred on the bat, causing it to disappear from view with an angry squawk. He then follows up by dimension dooring out of the wall, with a relieved Gareth in tow.

With the bat no longer bringing spells down on them, the adventurers begin to inflict substantial damage to their enemies. Six badly wounds the dire wolf and cuts it down with Gareth's aid. The creature is clearly summoned, since it disappears as soon as it drops. As does the dire badger that is quickly brought down by Six and Gareth, along with the three pseudonatural bison Nameless summons. 

Korm, on the other side of the fight, has badly wounded the dire badger that attacked Surr'kal, when he is bowled off his feet by the charge of the remaining huge wolf. Lying on the ground, with the two animals looming over him, Korm taps into the roots of his orcish heritage and his unusual training. His movements blur, as he speaks the words of a spell to cure some of his wounds and then rolls over, lashing out with desperate speed as his muscles swell with berserker strength. A mighty blow lays the badger's throat open and it disappears as it falls. Even as the wolf lays his side open, Korm strikes back from the ground and brings it down by neatly removing one of its legs. 

By the time the dire bat manages to emerge from the solid fog (barely avoiding two more bats that Surr'kal has summoned) and reaches a position from which it can bring down another lightning bolt, Nameless has summoned a pair of pseudonatural hippogriffs and commanded them to grapple it. The dire bat manages to bring down a flame strike on Nameless, which the alienist dodges the brunt of, before being grabbed by a hippogriff. Which, at Nameless command, drops from the air nearly sixty feet up, bringing the bat down with it. Two of the bison promptly rush over and attempt to stamp on it.

Luna, meanwhile, has somehow managed to stay on her feet despite the wounds inflicted on her. Seeing her tottering, Gareth rushes up and touches her with Kizmet, causing the sword to bestow its healing on her and closing the majority of her wounds. Seeing his enemy being healed, the shifter screams in fury. He swings with all his strength, jamming both handfuls of claws into Luna's neck, ripping her throat open and dropping her in a pool of blood.** The shifter howls in triumph as she drops.

But even as Luna falls, a bloody Korm rises on the other side of her enemy with sword swinging. It bites deep, severing the spine and almost cutting the shifter in half.***

Even as he falls, the dire bat (some of whose wounds close even though he appears to have cast no spell) somehow manages to drag itself out of the hippogriff's grasp, its magical protections protecting it from the efforts of the attacking bison. It flaps into the air as fast as it can and heads away. Nameless promptly summons a griffon, which tries vainly to grab it, as do Surr'kal's bats. 

Korm, turning from the body of the shifter, concentrates for a moment and large wings sprout from his shoulder blades****. He leaps into the air, racing after the fleeing druid. The hippogriffs, slower and more awkward than the bats, also rise clumsily from the ground and wing after it. Unfortunately, the fleeing druid still has a couple of tricks left. A sleet storm appears right behind it, blinding and slowing down its enemies, allowing it to build up enough speed to escape.

Realizing that chasing is futile, Korm flaps his way back to rejoin the others. Gareth, having just revived Luna before she could bleed to death, looks up at an exclamation from Six, who has been examining the dead shifter.

"Hey - it's not a guy. She's a woman!"

Nameless looks down at the figure and says, "How can you tell? Look at those muscles. And the sideburns!"

Gareth takes a look at the expression on the face of Luna, who has just turned back into a shaky-looking - and now irritated-looking - shifter and quickly adds, "We should check on the other people they attacked. Right now."

* Animal growthed and dire, to be precise
** Gareth got her to 40 hp and I rolled a crit, that unfortunately took her to 2 hp. Since she was still on her feet the shifter took the follow-up attack, taking Luna straight to -17.
*** Korm got three confirmed crits in the space of three rounds. Made a big difference to the fight.
**** We're using the UA variant of Aspects of Nature (modified) for Korm'akhan, to set him apart from Luna.


----------



## shilsen

Written by AviLazar:

Session 27 - April 9, 2006

We had just completed assisting in the speech at Morgrave University, giving an account of our adventure to the mysterious island, though we left certain things blank.  We received some looks of admiration, but I think most thought this was some farce or that we were all insane.  Given the circumstances of our expedition, and some of the things that happened, I wouldn’t mind if everyone blew us off as insane.

We are outside of the presentation hall when an officer of the watch asks to speak with Nameless in private, and without the rest of the group.  Given that we know what Nameless is carrying, the Dragon Shard, we insist that at least one party member join Nameless or we are not going anywhere.  While this is not a good start to any kind of meeting with the Watch, there are certain things we must protect.  Nameless and Six go inside.  And a few minutes later, trouble bellows in the voice of Six “This is an outrage! You cannot treat us like this!”  Korm’akhan turns to us and lets us know he heard something, we head towards the room and while standing outside the door.  We knock on the door as I proceed to open it, but it is held firm by two people on the opposite side.  Realizing this is not good I shout demanding answers – what I hear Six say is not good, “Nameless is being arrested for murder.” 

Korm’akhan helps me open the door, shoving the two guards aside and the entire group enters a very small room.  I keep myself at the ready, I do not want to fight members of the watch – they are just doing their job – but there is a greater good which I need to keep in mind.

We spend the next bit of time, maybe twenty or so minutes arguing with this gnome named Hasal.  Trying to recall the little bit of law that I studied I do realize that Hasal is being really nice to us.  Maybe because of our connections or the fact we are known as adventurers who can cause a lot of damage – I don’t know, and at the moment I do not care.

We do finally agree to join Hasal and go to the Watch House for the questioning, but then Hasal demands that Nameless remove all of his equipment and hand it over.  Nameless begins to do so reluctantly, but stops at the bag of holding – which holds the Dragon shard.  We try to explain to Hasal that Nameless does not own the bag, it is something he is just holding for the party.  Hasal refuses and we are at an impasse.  Hasal, at this time, refocuses his magical wand at Nameless.  I am not sure what it is, but it is probably something powerful and harmful – though I think Hasal realizes he is not in a good position right now.  If this ends in a fight, which I hope it doesn’t, then at least this battle will mean that Hasal and his fellow Watch members are dead.

And then, I am shocked by Nameless – something I previously thought not possible, he says “Don’t you trust the word of a paladin of the Silver Flame?” For all the arguments we have had in the past, and even times where Nameless has said that a paladins word means little, he then invokes my life’s work to support honesty?  While I have no objection, as he said nothing wrong, I wonder what this implies for the future.  Hasal, however, only says that he is thankful – because I am a paladin – that he is not arresting me.  While the Silver Flame is not in power in Sharn, it would present many problems to Sharn – politically – if they arrested a Paladin of the Silver Flame.  Would it be something the Church would sanction a war because of – that is possible – I would certainly go to war to protect a fellow brother – but luckily we are not at issues with that.

Nameless then suggests that we get Lalia to help by carrying the bag for us.  Hasal is in agreement with this and we send Luna out, in eagle form, to get Lalia.  While waiting we discuss what happens the night of Arrok’s murder – describing our relationship with our fallen comrade.  I notice through the course of conversation that every time one of the group members speak they seem to offend Hasal and I remember they can be as diplomatic as a starving boar.  I cut in, and use my best diplomatic tactics to get my message across to Hasal.  I inform him that we are trying to work with him, but as adventurers who delve into powerful things there are greater concerns – concerns which could harm the life of everyone in Sharn – if not the world.  I also inform him that while we do not wish a fight, if we do fight – a war with Sharn would arise.  Hasal takes this as a joke, and laughs – while I do not see this as a funny situation – I accept it since it helps reduce the burden a bit.

As we continue to discuss things Luna returns, but with news that Lalia and Tasra are not available.  Just as that happens, there is a knock on the door and another Warden - by the name of Balan Cord a Warden of the Blackened Book– comes in.  He is Hasal’s boss.  In addition to Balan, another person walks in with him – a dwarf, and then three more men who carry halberds.  The dwarf, who we find out is named Kestran Dal of the Guardians of the Gate, immediately begins in a flurry of insults only to be cut-off by Balan – who seems to be in charge of the group.

We then speak with Balan and Kestran, the former being more diplomatic and we go back over the issues we discussed before.  At least, Balan has a bit more authority then Hasal does and so we are able to get slightly better results.  We finally come to an agreement that Balan will inspect the contents of the bag in the room and then I would carry the bag back to the watch house.

Balan does inspect the contents, and does a detect magic – he is confused with the results of his spell.  None of the items detect as magic and neither does anyone standing next to the item.  Balan then has Hasal cast a detect magic and Hasal says that Balan radiates as magic dead.   When they see the results Balan starts to question us and we inform him that we are not sure of everything that is going on and that we cannot comment on what we do know other then the shard blocks some divinations.  We give a little more information – that we found the shard on the island we destroyed – which again raises some eyebrows.  Nameless then asks that we speak about this in private.  With that, we pack the bag up and head towards the watch house.

When the shard goes into the bag, the Detect magic spell picks up the tattoos on our chests.  We again reiterate our need to speak about this in private and Balan agrees.  We walk the street, our very large group, and head to the Warden Towers district – luckily without any incident.  Once inside Luna and Six are escorted to different rooms for questioning, while the rest of us join Nameless in a private room.  Nameless asks that we have some privacy and Kestran grabs Nameless pulling him down and demanding that he does as told.  Balan – again – commands Kestran to relax – which he does only barely.  The room is cleared out with the exception of Balan and the remainder of our group.

We describe to Balan a bit of what we know – not everything – but what we think is relevant enough for him to know.  Hasal comes back and lets us know that Arrok had a patch of skin removed from his chest – right about where the tattoo would have been located.  This is disconcerting for us as someone not only knows about the tattoo, and its significance, but they know who bears these marks.

Balan tells us, in greater detail, what happened to Arrok and Nameless comments that in addition to Necromancy, Illusion is also a banned school for him – and this killer of Arrok utilized a necromancy spell and an illusion spell.

After the meeting Balan tells us that Nameless will have to remain in the watch house for then next two to six days.  Nameless asks if the group can take possession of the bag and Balan agrees to those terms.  We take the items and leave.

We then make our way out of the Watch’s building and head to see Flamewind, a gynosphinx who has proved a valuable resource.  NOTE: Flamewind is one person who we have not checked out her background too much.  While I may be growing overly paranoid, she could very well be the leak we have been worried about.

We have our meeting with her, Six leading the discussion as he is most familiar with her.  She gives us some vague information, but nothing that we didn’t already surmise.  We do learn, however, that the tattoos provide no function – at least as far as Flamewind can tell when she utilizes the Analyze Dweomer spell – a powerful spell.  After the meeting we walk over to Carosten Park, but since we do not find Surr’kal the group decides to turn in for the night.  While the rest of the group decides to stay in the park I make my way to Coldflame Keep where I speak with Cedric and Mazin tana.  I also help provide any healing and comforting that I can.  It is a rare that I get to help people in this fashion, and it is definitely comforting knowing that I can do some good – even without violence.

The following morning I make my way back to the Watch House where I meet the rest of the group.  We go in to visit Nameless, and I have to say it is kind of funny seeing him there – alone in his cell.  I have thought I would see Nameless many ways – in total control of a situation, fleeing a situation, or just dead because of a situation – but I never thought I would see him locked up – especially knowing his abilities to escape when needed.

We discuss a bit more about what happened on the night of Arok’s murder.  I am sure it is more to see if our stories change – a tactic that is often utilized to capture a liar.  Balan then informs us of a simpler way for us to be done with this legal business and that is if we were to accept a mission for the government. He offers us three jobs, and we take what sounds to be the one he thought we would not choose – and that is to work for the Citadel.  To work for the secret service of the King is a great honor, and a chance to do something really important.  We discuss our options and then Corven informs us that he will be taking his leave since he wants to do some more research into the island – particularly to find out how it may relate to the Day of Mourning.  Note: I am saddened to see Corven leave.  I was closest with him, both as a family relation and as a companion.  I hope everything goes well for him.

Once we have agreed to work with the Citadel, we leave (with Nameless) the Watch House and proceed to Carosten Park.  We meet with Surr’kal and he lets us know that while it will take time, Gurr’khan will be able to come to Sharn to help us with the issues with the dragonshard and the daelkyr issue.  In the middle of our conversation we are interrupted by some noise and screaming outside.  We exit the tent where we see four enormous animals attacking innocents.   Korm then shouts something about the “Children of Winter” as we head into battle.

The battle begins, and the Children of winter cast a Wall of Thorns which prevents me from moving.  As such, I spend the time casting spells to increase my combat ability, while Nameless thinks of a way to get me free.  The rest of the group goes into battle, and as soon as Nameless Dimension Door’s with me I walk up to a dire wolf and hack at it – helping Six finish it off.  Then we walk towards another animal, a dire badger, and cut it down as Nameless brings in his pseudo natural bison to assist.  I notice, just then, that Luna is bleeding very badly – wobbeling in her animal form. I touch her with the tip of Kizmet, healing her critical wounds.  Just then, one of the Children of Winter strikes Luna, and due the to graces of the Silver Flame she is spared death.

The Child of Winter flies off, and Korm tries following him for a bit before he returns saying he cannot catch up with the shifter.

We examine the remains of the dead.


----------



## shilsen

*Session 28 - The King's Citadel (or "Gnomes! Why Does it Have to be Gnomes?")*

The Angels, Surr'kal and Teln go check on those who'd been attacked by the summoned creatures. They find it was a family consisting of the parents and two young children, all of whom are dead (and in a couple of cases, partly eaten). While they are checking the corpses, they are approached a couple of scared-looking people who emerge from behind nearby bushes and one who descends awkwardly from the branches of a tree. 

These individuals had apparently hidden themselves when the creatures appeared and need some reassurance that they won't return (especially the man who has a large yellow stain running down his pants). They explain that they were walking through the park when a tall man (who fits the description of the druid named Cainan, whom Korm had fought earlier) and the shifter had come hurrying up, with the former then summoning the creatures and enlarging them. The unfortunate family had just wandered around a clump of trees nearby and promptly been attacked and killed. The three onlookers hid themselves and saw the druid turn into a dire bat and the ensuing battle with the adventurers.

This discussion is interrupted by a loud call of "What's going on here?" It comes from four Watch guards that come hurrying towards the gathering, prompting a disgusted Six to comment, "It figures. They were probably outside having a smoke till we took care of everything!"

Though the adventurers are standing in the middle of some dead and half-eaten corpses, with more blood and the dead shifter further along the area, this time they have no real trouble with the Watch. The three onlookers explain what they saw, with a little embellishment here and there. The guards apparently know who both Surr'kal and Teln are and listen attentively while they add their account as well. 

By the time they are done, the guards are convinced that the Angels are not to blame in any way. When they check the adventurers' papers, they recognize them by name and reputation, with one commenting that he has a nephew who's at Morgrave University and had told him about being at the presentation about their expedition.

The guards do ask the Angels to stop by the local Watch house and make a report, but after a polite explanation from Gareth that it might be better to get the other witnesses to do so, they agree and leave with the three civilians. None of whom seem very comfortable about having to help carry the corpses of the dead family with them.

Once they are gone, the group returns to the Gatehouse, as Surr'kal and Teln both comment on how impressed they are with the Angels' abilities. They check the body of the dead shifter, whom Korm said Cainan had called Dusk. Among the limited equipment that she carries is a pair of boots that gave her the incredible speed she displayed. Gareth asks to use them, since that'll make it likelier that he can actually get to a fight at the same time as the others, and nobody disagrees.

While examining the body, Surr'kal asks Korm, "Do you think that Cainan will be back?"

"Quite possibly," Korm grimly replies. "He may want revenge for his companion. I hope I am here if he does return."

Nameless suggests that Surr'kal and Teln arrange a funeral for the shifter, since that would ensure Cainan cannot try something like reincarnating her later. Surr'kal says it is a good idea and the two druids take care of it, with some help from the Angels.

Afterwards, the group splits up as usual, with Korm accompanying Nameless as he visits Trillia, while Luna flies around the area as an eagle, keeping an eye out for Cainan. Gareth heads to the Deneith enclave to check on Lalia and Six goes off on his own.

When Nameless shows up, Trillia asks what happened with his arrest. He provides a detailed coverage of what occurred, and she is quite amused that the group has actually decided to work for the Citadel. She says that he's unlikely to be able to share the details with her, but if he can, she'll be curious to know what it is.

They also discuss the whole issue of Arrok's murder and who might be involved. Nameless asks if Trillia thinks there is anyone at the Guild who might be involved. Trillia says that she sincerely doubts anyone from there is involved, but, naturally, anything is possible. At any given time there are usually only a dozen members in Sharn capable of casting spells of the third valence, as the murder was, and half of that is people like Trillia who actually live in the city. 

Currently she thinks she's as powerful a spellcaster as anyone in the Guild who's in Sharn, unless Naziam (a half-elf transmuter) or Dimass (a gnome sorcerer) have got stronger. It's accepted at the Guild (as at the Esoteric Order, which has approximately the same number of powerful spellcasters) that members should inform the Guild when they have achieved access to a new level of valences, so it would be easy to find out. She mentions that Nameless should also let them know how good he's getting.

Nameless says that he was mainly interested in finding out what other powerful arcanists there are in the city, and that he figured most of them would be members of the	Guild or Order. Trillia says that many are, but it's not necessarily the case. Out of the powerful arcane spellcasters in the city who aren't members of the Guild or Order, she mentions the dwarf Kalphan Riak, high priest of Kol Korran at the Korranath in Upper Central (who is a sorcerer, not a cleric). She says that while he's a bit of a greedy bastard, she doubts he's running around killing people to frame Nameless. Warden Balan Cord is supposed to be good too, though she's heard his forte is things that affect people and control crowds, rather than actual killing spells. Presumably Lady Warden Maira ir'Talan, commander of the Blackened Book, is a good spellcaster too, but she's mainly an administrator rather than a field operative. The Boromars and Daask (especially the latter) are supposed to have a few strong spellcasters in their employ, and there have got to be a couple among the diplomatic corps in Sharn, though the better they are the less likely anyone is to know about them. Which also goes for any underworld figures unaffiliated with the Boromars and Daask.

Korm, who's been listening to this, says that it sounds next to impossible to find any really useful information in this city. Trillia says that while it may seem very complicated, depending on who did it and how, there may be some unofficial ways to get information about it. If the murder was committed by someone hired to do it, especially among the criminal community, probably the best bet for info is what is known as the Tyrants. They are supposed to be a changeling gang which deals almost purely in information and have a much bigger handle on that than the Boromars and Daask (who supposedly have dealings with them). They're supposed to have eyes and ears everywhere, so just dropping a little coin and saying that one wants to contact them should get their attention. Supposedly they have an especially strong presence in the Dragoneyes red light district (Lower Tavick's Landing, just below the Deathsgate district that Trillia's house is in) and also in the Callestan inn district (Lower Dura).

Korm and Nameless file the information away for possible later use. Trillia goes on to ask Nameless if he's still interested in her idea of a visit to Yarkuun Draal. He says that he definitely is, but it would depend on what the group is involved with next. The Citadel assignment, for example, may keep them busy for a while. He won't know for sure until the actual meeting.

Korm, who wasn't there when she first made the proposal, asks about it. He mentions that he'd heard that Yarkuun Draal was a Dhakaani ruin. Trillia says that he's right and it is located to the southwest of Sharn, near the coast in the Siln Highlands. She tells Korm a little of what she's already told Nameless about the place, her previous visit to it, the aberrations that overrun it, and the possibility of a dimensional seal being present there. Korm asks if she intends to tamper with the seal at all and she reassures him that she's "not mental enough" to want a daelkyr wandering around Khorvaire. She simply wishes to study the creations of the daelkyr further. Now, with her own increased power and the varied abilities of the Angels, she believes they could explore the ruins there and survive.

Korm says that he too would be interested in seeing the place, especially if there is some lurking danger that the Gatekeepers should know of. He then leaves Nameless with Trillia and heads back to Carosten Park. Once there, he joins Luna in a long, peaceful flight around and among the towers, though the sight of a large winged orc does draw some attention from passers-by. 

Six, meanwhile, goes to the one shop he frequents and sells the sculptures that he has been working on for the last few weeks. Then he wanders the streets of Sharn as is his habit, eventually heading to Trillia's home to join Nameless there.

Gareth first goes to the Deneith enclave, where he learns that Lalia and Tasra are both outside Sharn on work. He then visits the Cathedral, where he meets Bodo. He also receives a letter from his mother and grandmother, which was delivered to the Cathedral by a Sivis messenger. 

His mother's letter is mostly about the events on the island, saying that she's happy that he's fine and that she's looking forward to reading about it in the Korranberg Chronicle. She also mentions having looked up daelkyr after getting his letter and is quite fascinated by the fact that he's encountered something that is effectively legendary at this point. She comments in passing about his plan to join the Deneith enclave in Sharn, simply saying that he should do whatever works for him, though she does think it's a good idea and at least a more stable job than the adventuring life. 

His grandmother's letter is longer and is basically about three things - the daelkyr/dragon, Kizmet and the enclave. Regarding the first, she knows a little more about daelkyr but says she has also read up on it recently. She says that his encounters with it and with the dragon clearly show that (as she always figured) he is destined for special things by the Silver Flame, and that she's looking forward to hearing and reading more about these events. She considers the growing bond with the sword as more proof of the fact, especially since it sounds like the sword is growing more powerful than it ever was in Gareth's father's or grandfather's hands. As for the enclave, she says she's happy that he's thinking of joining it, since the Sharn enclave is one of the major ones outside Karrnath and it could use someone of his standards to cleanse and improve it. Who knows, perhaps this could be the first step in him improving not just the Deneith enclave in Sharn but eventually the House as a whole across Khorvaire.

While Gareth is reading the letters, an acolyte tells him that the Archierophant asked that he be told to stop by when he is here next. Since she is present at the Cathedral, Gareth goes to her office and meets her. Ythana Morr greets him and talks a little about his recent adventures. She also asks about his time at Coldflame Keep and what he thinks of it. Gareth says that he thinks Mazin is a worthy man and is doing a lot for the community there and it's a pity that the temple there is in such disrepair.

Ythana says that Mazin has been one of the longest serving members of the Flame in Sharn, which is why he was assigned to Coldflame Keep, in hopes of improving the situation there. Unfortunately, the community there hasn't been as receptive as would be desirable for a long time, partly because there's a strong shifter population in Middle and Lower Northedge. Ythana  says that she does still have some plans that may help improve not just the situation of Coldflame Keep but the status of the Silver Flame in Sharn, where it has consistently taken second place to the worship of the Sovereign Host. She asks Gareth if he is willing to help in that regard, since someone of his skills could be very helpful. Gareth replies that he'd be happy to help in any way.

Ythana also says that she believes he has met Cedric Galan and asks what Gareth thinks of him. Gareth says that Cedric is definitely unusual, to which she agrees. He adds that some of Cedric's beliefs contradict with his own, but evidently Cedric is a good paladin, both in what Gareth's seen of him and the fact that the Flame finds him worthy of paladinhood. As long as Cedric does what he wants on his own time, Gareth says, he has no problem with recognizing him as a comrade and a friend.

The Archierophant listens carefully and says that she was curious, since Cedric does stretch the mold in ways most paladins do not and she has heard very differing opinions of him. She has had little interaction with him, since he prefers to worship at Coldflame Keep rather than at the Cathedral. 

Ythana then checks on Gareth's future plans before ending the discussion. She says that he can tell Mazin that she is planning to send him some help regarding the temple. 

Gareth does head to Coldflame Keep from the Cathedral, after stopping at the Kundarak bank on the way. He finds both Mazin and Cedric at the Keep and tells them about his discussion with Ythana Morr. He also gives Mazin the hundred galifars that he picked up at the bank, as a contribution to the temple. Mazin thanks him and says that he's pleased to hear the Archierophant is planning to help the temple. Cedric, on the other hand, just snorts and says, "I'll bloody well believe it when I see it."


----------



## shilsen

The next morning, all of the adventurers gather at the Park and then head down to Middle Central. They find the Citadel to be a huge fortified structure, which occupies the middle levels of Andith Tower. Not only does its bare, gray appearance set it apart from the surrounding embassies, shops and restaurants of Ambassador Towers, but it’s also exceptional in the fact that no skybridges connect to its various levels. In fact, there is no visible entrance. Numerous buildings stand around the base, with guards in Watch uniform moving back and forth. A skycoach dock also stands nearby. 

Nameless stops a guard and says that they have an appointment. Once he shows the letter, the Angels are quickly shepherded onto a nearby skycoach. It flies upwards until it reaches a huge balcony, guarded by numerous people in both Watch uniform and the armor of the Knights of the Citadel. Disembarking, the adventurers present the letter and are asked to accompany a pair of guards within. 

They are led through a number of corridors that twist and turn, heading deeper into the body of the Citadel. They soon arrive at a large guarded gate, decorated with both the snarling bear of Breland and the shield of the King's Citadel. After presenting the letter again, the Angels are led inside and eventually arrive at an office. 

Inside the office is a uniformed gnome sitting at a desk and talking to a half-elf. Six mutters something indistinct about gnomes, as he introduces himself as Captain Talleon. He takes the letter and after skimming it, tells the half-elf to inform 'Ras' that he'll need him in half an hour. While the half-elf leaves, Talleon picks up a sheaf of files off his desk and leads the group into an adjoining meeting room.

Once they are all seated, he drops the files on the table (perhaps not-so-coincidentally in a position that lets them see that they bear the names of the various adventurers) and says, "Balan has told me something about you and I've done a little checking myself." He smiles a little and adds, "You people aren't that difficult to find information on."

Then he looks at Korm and adds, "You, however, I know comparatively less about." He taps a significantly slimmer file with 'Korm'akhan' on the cover and says. "Let's see - you are a foreigner to Breland, are a member of the Gatekeeper sect of druids, and have been in Sharn for a few weeks. Correct?"

Korm simply replies, "Yes," not vouchsafing any more information.

"All right," says Talleon, before turning to Gareth. "Gareth Byron Deneith, originally of Karrlakton. You are a paladin of the Silver Flame, right?"

"Yes."

"Then please do that detection thing you paladins do. Use it on me."

More than a little surprised at the request, considering it's one that nobody has ever made to him, Gareth complies, quickly discovering that Talleon detects faintly of evil.

Talleon calmly continues, "I've had a couple of people tell me before that I appear to be slightly or mildly evil to that ability, and I've met more than a couple of paranoid paladins, so I figured I'd mention it in the interests of honesty." He leans forward and adds, "Presumably it has something to do with my methods. But I don't give a damn about things like that. I have more important things to worry about."

"So you're one of the 'end justifies the means' kind of people?" asks Nameless, with a grin.

An unsmiling Talleon replies, "My life is dedicated to protecting my King and my country. I don't have the luxury of worrying about means and ends. I do what I need to." He glances at Gareth and says, "Don't worry - you won't be asked to do anything that will ... offend your morality. Speaking of which, what exactly do you draw the line at?"

Gareth says, "There are many things I could say, but the main one is that I won't kill an innocent."

Talleon asks, "So what is an innocent?"

Gareth quickly replies, "I don't know what it means for you, but for me it's someone who isn't evil and isn't harming other people."

"What about when someone is likely to be a danger?"

"Listen," says Gareth, "We could talk ethics and judgement for a year and we'd probably still not be able to agree."

"That's all right. As I said, it won't be an issue for you."

"The rest of us," Nameless interjects, "Are a little more flexible than Gareth here, if it matters."

"Noted. Now, before I can tell you what the assignment is, I'd like to test your capabilities. It would very likely be dangerous and I don't want to get you killed because you can't handle it. Do you mind passing a test? It'll be dangerous, but then your line of work puts you in danger all the time. And I'll ensure it isn't fatal."

The adventurers look at each other and shrug. Talleon leads them out of the room to another part of the complex, where they eventually arrive at a large stone door. It slides open to reveal a huge rectangular room, full of obstructions and barriers of various sizes, walls pockmarked with the signs of explosions. There is a large translucent window midway up the side of the room. 

Talleon asks them to enter and wait for orders. Once they do, door closes behind them. Nameless puts his back to the door and begins to cast protective spells. The others spellcasters do the same, while some draw weapons and Luna turns into a large brown bear. As they are setting themselves into a rough semicircle around Nameless' position, the window turns transparent, revealing Talleon and three more people in a room behind it. "Please defend yourselves," says Talleon. 

A couple of seconds later, five large apes appear around the Angels, one within reach of each adventurer, bellowing and beating their chests in challenge. Their glowing red eyes and the sulphuric smell that surrounds them mark them as fiendish in nature. 

Despite their impressive appearance, however, the creatures are clearly not a match for the Angels and go down in seconds beneath a flurry of weapons and claws, with a pair of summoned pseudonatural bison only hastening their demise. 

Gareth looks around as the last of the summoned creatures drops and vanishes, before calling across the room to Talleon, "Is that all?"

The comment is answered immediately, as three dire wolves appear in the room along with two giant wasps (all of these are celestial in nature). These last slightly longer than the apes, with the wasps stinging Nameless and Korm, though both shrug off the effects of their poison. Even so, barely half a minute after the apes appeared, the wolves and wasps are gone too.

Gareth again speaks up, asking, "Don't you have anything better?" Even as Nameless growls, "Dammit, Gareth - don't piss off the...", five more creatures appear. Each carries a large, saw-toothed glaive, which marks it out to those in the know as much as the pointed ears, scaly skin, long tail, clawed limbs, and snaky, spiky beard do.

"Barbazu from Shavarath," says Nameless, and Gareth and Korm nod as they also recognize the creatures. "Watch the beards."

The devils promptly scream wordless battle cries and hurl themselves at the adventurers, landing some powerful blows. A wounded Nameless is forced to get out of range by dimension dooring halfway across the room, while Six switches to defensive fighting, whirling his chain in an impenetrable wall around himself. 

Gareth's armor protects him from the glaives, but unfortunately for him, he's right in the middle when Korm sends an arc of lightning racing across three of the devils. Even as they convulse in pain, Gareth yells too. "Watch what you do!" he shouts, before turning to swing at a barbazu, anger fueling his blade.

Despite their initial success and general toughness, the barbazu go down one by one, the last one being actually cut into two halves by Gareth*. As the bleeding paladin turns towards Talleon and opens his mouth, Luna (to whom Nameless had just said, "Shut him up!") rears up and places a large paw over his mouth (or rather, face) and muffling whatever he was about to say.

"I hope we're done now," says Nameless instead, and Talleon replies, "Yes. And very impressively so."

The window turns translucent again and moments later, the stone door slides back to reveal Talleon and two uniformed men with wands, who enter the room and set to healing the adventurers. 

Gareth, having been released by Luna, gives her a dirty look and then bestows an even dirtier one on Korm. "What do you think you were doing?" he asks angrily. "You could have killed me!"

"No," says Korm confidently, "It wasn't that powerful a spell. You were quite safe."

"That's not the point!" says Gareth and proceeds to chew Korm out about tactics and responsibility, most of which the big orc ignores.

Talleon watches the byplay between the two and then says, "Very impressive. You're obviously as skilled as I'd heard." With that, he turns around and leads the Angels back towards his office.

When they reach it, they find a muscular, uniformed half-orc waiting for them. He rises at their entrance and Talleon turns to the Angels to say, "This is Raskalorn, one of my finest operatives. We generally call him Ras. Ras, these are the Angels." 

Leading Ras and the others into the meeting room, Talleon takes a seat and says that, in view of what he's just seen, he thinks the Angels would be perfect for the job. He goes on to say that he heads the King's Dark Lanterns, the intelligence branch of the Citadel, in Sharn. Though dangerous work is common for the Lanterns, Ras is involved in a particularly dangerous case and it is quite likely that he has already had a bounty put on his head by some people whom Talleon can't mention for security reasons. In short, Talleon needs powerful and experienced people unconnected to the Citadel to keep an eye on Ras, which is the assignment for the Angels.

For the next few days, they will be told about various locations where Ras will be, usually with about a day's advance notice. They will make sure to "coincidentally" be present at the same location and time. Sometimes they will also need to keep an eye on Ras as he travels to and from these locations. They will protect him from anyone who attacks him, and are free to take such attackers down "by any means necessary". 

Talleon says that the locations will usually be in middle to lower Sharn and possibly even the Cogs. Of course, he assumes, this shouldn't be a problem for the adventurers. Nameless comments that they'd prefer it to not be Malleon's Gate, since some people there might not want to see them return, but otherwise it shouldn't be a problem. 

Talleon notes it and adds that they should need the Angels on and off for ten days to a fortnight, but not on a daily basis. He asks for a contact location where he can send them the information as needed, and is told to use Trillia's home and, failing that, the Gatehouse in Carosten Park. 

The adventurers have a couple of minor questions, but otherwise simply take in the information. So does Raskalorn, who simply says that he is pleased to meet them and hopes that their expertise won't be needed. Talleon tells the group to study both Raskalorn's current appearance and also the disguise he'll most commonly use, which Ras demonstrates by turning into a scarred human. Once that is done, with no questions forthcoming, he dismisses both Ras and the group.

The adventurers head back towards the exit with their two guards. Just as they are about to reach the large gate that led into this section, a halfling steps into the corridor ahead of them. Though none of them recognize him, he seems to be expecting them, since he waits till they get closer and then flashes a badge at the guards. As the guards stop, he says, "In here," to the adventurers, adding, "We need to talk."

The Angels look at each other, shrug and follow him into the room, though Six mutters something about almost having made it out. The halfling shuts the door with the guards outside. Then he changes into Captain Talleon, drawing a couple of sighs from the Angels, and tells them to sit down. Doing so himself, he says, "Now here's the real job."

He quickly goes on to say that there's more to the job than he said in front of Ras. While it's true that Ras is one of his best operatives, he has information that Ras is a double agent and has been selling information to the Royal Eyes of Aundair, the spy service that answers to Queen Aurala. Which, incidentally, is why the Angels fit his needs, since he wanted a group with no Aundairans. Since Ras is a long-serving member of the Citadel and the Dark Lanterns, Talleon needs external people to keep an eye on Ras, people who Ras will allow to stay close to him. The assignment to protect Ras takes care of that angle.

While the Angels are truly supposed to protect Ras, they're also supposed to keep an eye on anything suspicious he does. They should watch for people who show up at consistently at the places they will be going to. They should note whoever he speaks to. Or if he exchanges any items with anyone. In short, Talleon wants them to note anything he does that is the least bit suspicious. 

Talleon adds that when he sends them the information about meeting/guarding Ras, it will be in the form of a letter and will contain separate information about their actual job in the form of a secret page spell. The command word "Sumar" will allow them to access it. 

When Talleon asks them if they have any questions, this time there are a number of queries. Nameless asks, "What do we do if we detect anything definitely suspicious? Do we stop Ras?"

"No. Simply report back to me about it later. I will probably meet you again after you've had a couple of days."

Gareth, who's just used his detect evil on Talleon and, for the first time in his life, been a little relieved at detecting a faint level of evil, queries, "Is there actually a bounty out on Ras?"

"No, I lied," says Talleon blandly. "Of course, it's likely that some people would like him dead, but I have no information about any impending attempt on his life. The odds are that you will simply need to observe Ras, rather than fight anyone."

Nameless puts in, "I should point out that we are a lot better at the fighting than at subtlety."

"That's all right. You're clearly experienced and versatile in your skills. I'm sure you'll make do."

Six apparently has more material concerns. "Do we have an expense account?" he inquires, drawing a snicker from Luna.

Talleon almost looks surprised as he answers, "Your incidental expenses will be covered. Emphasis on incidental."

After answering a couple more minor questions, Talleon ends the impromptu meeting. He then changes back to a halfling, lets them out and closes the door. The guards see them out to the balcony and to a waiting skycoach, which drops them to the bottom of the Citadel tower.

As the Angels move off, Six shakes his head and says, "Great. Just great. There just had to be a double-cross in there."

Gareth shrugs. "I'm not surprised that happened. The first job seemed a little simple for people of our skills."

Korm replies, "Considering what I have seen of gnomes, especially in this city, there's probably a triple- or a quadruple-cross in there somewhere." He throws a look at the cloudy sky above, though most of it is blocked by the huge shape of Skyway floating above. "The wilds are a lot simpler than this place."

Luna isn't the only person in the group who nods in agreement.

* Crit on a power-attacking smite with divine might, doing 90+ pts of damage on one hit


----------



## shilsen

The first message from Talleon arrives soon, showing up at Trillia's the next morning. It tells the group to have dinner the next day at Mizano Rupa's, a popular dinner theater in the Smoky Towers district of Middle Menthis. They should be there at 7 pm, Reservations will have been made for them at 7 pm. Raskalorn will be two tables away. There is unlikely to be any danger at dinner, but they should escort Ras at a distance back to Ambassador Towers, where he’ll enter Athania’s Companions (an escort service). Once he enters, they can leave. 

After they use the command word, the letter fades and more writing appears. It says that they should keep an eye out for anyone who speaks to Ras at Mizano Rupa’s, especially a bearded man with deep blue eyes. Also, when Ras enters Athania’s, at least one person should wait until he emerges and follow him till he returns to the Citadel, noting if he stops anywhere.

After receiving the information, the Angels keep themselves busy in various ways throughout the day. As has now become a habit for them, they check the Korranberg Chronicle to see what is occurring in both Sharn and across Khorvaire. They read about an alarm at the Floating Towers of Arcanix (where the Arcane Congress of Aundair is located), though the Chronicle's reporters were not allowed any information. There was also an assassination attempt on the figurehead Queen Diani of Thrane, shortly after her meeting with Queen Aurala, by a pair of assassins wearing marks of House Medani, though they were clearly impostors. Medani, which had recently been banned from Flamekeep, has been allowed in again and are leading the investigation into the attacks.

As for Sharn, there is mention of a huge auction at the end of Barrakas at the Grand Spires auction house, where most of the collection of Sulan Sardenian (a recently deceased former explorer of the Wayfinder Foundation) is to be disposed of. Sulan left the collection to Lord Boroman ir'Dayne, who has donated some to the Dezina Museum at Morgrave University and is having the rest auctioned. The crown of the auction is to be the famous Lazura Diamond, reputed to be a cause of strange misfortune for its owners. Another interesting bit of news on Sharn, especially for Gareth, is the story in the social section of a cat-fight at the Tain Gala on the 6th between Lalia d'Deneith and the Valenar ambassador Daera Sorandal over Caerlyn Tyrell, head of the Sharn-located mercenary troop, Caerlyn's Blades. Lalia was apparently seen around town for a few weeks with Caerlyn while his on-again off-again girlfriend Daera was outside Sharn, and took exception to Caerlyn's visit to the Gala with Daera. Gareth, perhaps due to the others' presence, displays no real reaction to the article.

The KC also makes a closer appearance in the form of Flim Turen, who catches the Angels while they are at Carosten Park. He has a lot of questions, both about what occurred after the presentation at Morgrave University and the fight two days ago at the Park. The adventurers say little about the Morgrave incident and Korm involuntarily ends up distracting Flim by mentioning that the Children of Winter were the ones who caused the recent epidemic.

Flim spends some time noting down what Korm says about the Children of Winter, the epidemic, and the worshippers of the Flame who helped him. He is also quite interested in exactly who Korm is and whether he's a member of the Angels. Korm says that he wouldn't call himself a member but he is definitely going to be working with them for the time being. He also says that he's a member of the Gatekeepers, which Flim notes.

Flim also asks about the group's plans and whether they're still planning to "clean up Sharn," as Luna had told him that they were. Luna, whom the others are generally keeping from doing much talking to him, grins and says it's on the 'to do' list. Flim comments that the Angels are pretty good for news purposes, since things seem to happen to them. Things have been at a bit of a loose end since the Blades of Arakhain left town, but it looks like the Angels are going to more than make up for the absence. He promises to stop by and check on them soon and also to help with information in any way he can.

After he has gone, the adventurers split up as usual. Six, who is a little short on cash, borrows some from Gareth and pays a long visit to one of the larger Cannith shops in town. There, he has his body plating permanently enchanted to provide greater protection in battle. Later that day, he also visits a weaponsmith in the city and provides the man with as detailed a description of the drow scorpion chains he'd seen on the island. The weaponsmith says he's never seen such a weapon and isn't sure that he can manufacture one, but says that he'll give it a try.

*** 
The next day, as ordered by Talleon, the Angels make their way to Middle Menthis, making sure to arrive fifteen minutes early. Smoky Towers is a district clearly focused on entertainment, with dinner theaters, recital halls and the grand Classic theater drawing people to it, as do the restaurants that cater to the people visiting the district. Mizano Rupa's is one of the dinner theaters that blend food and entertainment and even before they enter, the Angels realize why they were provided a reservation. A large number of people wait outside, clearly hoping for a table.

The adventurers enter and, after handing over their weapons in the foyer, move into the main hall, where they are ushered to their reserved table. Six, as the only warforged in the place, draws more than a couple of looks but no comments. The tables are set around the large stage that juts out of one wall, topped by an orchestra section. A large program announces the next set of performances, both theatrical and musical, beginning at 7 pm.

Raskalorn enters just before seven, with an attractive young woman on his arm, wearing the human appearance that he had shown the Angels in the Citadel. He takes a table near the group, walking past their table and showing absolutely no sign of recognition. Moments after he takes his seat, the performances begin.

The adventurers spend the next hour and a half being both well-fed and well-entertained. The food at Mizano Rupa's is quite good, and while the performers are not the best that Menthis boasts, they are obviously skilled. 

Despite the comfortable ambience and the distractions of food and music, the Angels do their job, keeping a very close, if surreptitious, eye on Ras. The Dark Lantern seems quite focused on his date and the entertainment, laughing and talking with her and giving her all of his attention. He only leaves the table on two occasions, once to visit the restroom (when Six, who hasn't had the others' chance to indulge in the food and is slightly bored, suggests that he go in there and stare at Ras, just to have something to do) and once to get a couple of glasses of wine from the long bar against one wall. 

When he reaches the bar, Ras exchanges a word or two with a well-dressed elf next to him while waiting for his drinks, but doesn't do anything suspicious. On the way back, however, he brushes past a man who fits the description (bearded and startlingly blue-eyed) that the Angels have been told to watch out for. This figure turns to glance in the general direction of Ras' table and seems to give a tiny start of recognition on seeing the adventurers, or so it seems to Six and Luna.

A few minutes later, the bearded man walks by Ras' table and bumps into the agent. He quickly apologizes and Ras and he shake hands. A couple of the Angels think they catch a tiny speck of white, like perhaps a folded note, changing hands as they do so. The adventurers watch as the bearded man rejoins his dinner companions, two more men, at a table across the room.

About fifteen minutes later, the three of them end their meal and leave. Luna suggests that she follow him, while the rest stick with Ras, since she can track him as an animal. She follows him and his companions out the door. The others remain at the table and begin to wrap up their meal, seeing that Ras and his date are doing so. About ten minutes after Luna left, they are heading out the door too.

Ras and his date board a skycoach and head north, followed by the Angels, disembarking at Ambassador Towers. The two of them stroll along the skybridges till they reach a tower building and enter. A discreet sign outside identifies it simply as Athania's. 

After a quick discussion about what to do next, Korm, Gareth and Nameless head into a nearby cafe, while Six uses his hat of disguise to change into the appearance of a human merchant*. He then proceeds into Athania's. Entering it, he finds himself in what looks like the lobby of a large, well-decorated apartment. The difference is the two open doors that reveal a number of well-dressed men and women sitting around in two large lounges. And the not-very-surreptitious bouncer sitting on a chair in the corner. And the beautiful woman dressed like a society matron, who walks towards Six with a welcoming smile as soon as he enters.

"Welcome to Athania's. How may I help you?"

Six puts on his best impersonation of a human voice and claims to be a merchant who is new to town and has had Athania's recommended by his friends. The woman asks what he has been told and if he is looking for something specific in mind, and Six does a reasonably good impersonation of being quite uninformed about Athania's and unsure what to ask for (probably because it's not really an impersonation). 

Six asks if he can wait to have a drink and get a sense of the place, and the woman, though apparently slightly puzzled, ushers him into one of the lounges. It happens to be the one where Ras is sitting, involved in a card game with three other people, and Six takes a seat across the room from them. 

He is quickly provided with a drink and, shortly afterwards, some of the other people in the room ask him to make a fourth for a game of cards. Six agrees and spends the next half an hour playing cards and doing more acting than he's ever had to. One of the other players comments that it sounds like he's coming down with a cold, but otherwise nobody seems to notice the subterfuge.

While playing, Six notes that Ras seems to be a regular here, from the comments of the people playing with him and the people working at Athania's. He also learns a fair amount about Athania's Companions. The service is named after its owner, the elven lady Athania, and provides escorts to both visiting diplomats in the area and clients in other well-to-do areas of Sharn. The escorts (a number of whom are present) are men and women of beauty and intelligence, trained to provide interesting conversation as well as physical companionship.

About half an hour after he entered, Six sees Ras rise and leave. Knowing that the others are outside and not wanting to be obvious, Six waits for five minutes before taking his leave too. He is stopped on the way out by the woman who spoke to him when he entered. She asks politely why he's leaving and if the place didn't catch his fancy. Six quickly explains that he needs to be somewhere else but will be back another time.

When they see Ras emerge, Nameless and Korm decide to follow him, figuring that Gareth and his armor will be too obvious. He remains behind to await Six. The other two follow Ras, staying far enough away to hopefully be unnoticed while they can keep an eye on him. 

Shortly after having left Athania's, Ras walks into a particularly dark area and emerges in his half-orc form. He then proceeds to head directly back to the Citadel, only stopping along the way to look at a couple of shops, though he does not enter. Once at the base of the Citadel, Ras takes one of the ever-present skycoaches and heads up to the guarded balcony entrance.

After watching him enter, Nameless and Korm head back to rejoin the rest.

* Yes, they decided to send the warforged in to impersonate a client, as opposed to the two humans and one orc present. Yes, yes - my players do like to help me. A lot.


----------



## shilsen

*Session 29 - Mugged and Bugged (or "+18? At 4th lvl?")*

After seeing Raskalorn enter the Citadel, Nameless and Korm'akhan head back to meet up with Gareth and Six. The four of them then head up to Carosten Park, where they find Luna waiting. She says that she changed into a bird once outside, to make it easier to follow the bearded man. He left the two men he was with and headed south, eventually descending to Lower Menthis. Once there, he moved through streets (quite purposefully, as if going to an intended location, thought Luna) till he eventually headed into a dark side street. 

Luna flew to the other end to await his reappearance, but he never came out. After a bit, she flew in and checked out the area. Though there was no sign of him, she did pick up a scent that disappeared midway down the street. There were a couple of closed doors nearby, but she couldn't be sure if the scent ended at one of them. In fact, she thinks it ended a little before the doors.

The others tell Luna what they saw with Ras and then the group splits up as usual. When Gareth reaches Coldflame Keep, he meets Cedric, who says that Flim Turen came by to ask about the Children of Winter's involvement with the epidemic and Cedric's involvement with their defeat. He asks Gareth how Flim found out and Gareth relates what happened at Carosten Park. Cedric says that he was just curious and has told Flim the entire story. He also checks about Korm, saying that he's curious how the big orc is doing in Sharn, and then leaves Gareth.

***
The next morning, the Angels receive their next message from Talleon. This one tells them to go to a casino in the Dragoneyes district of Lower Tavick's the next day, where Ras will be at 7 pm. The group should go in a little earlier and stay there till Ras leaves, at which point they are to guard him till he gets back to the Citadel. 

As usual, there is a hidden section, which adds that Ras should be heading to Chance from the Citadel at about 5:30 pm, and at least one person should keep an eye on him from that time. It also says that "the halfling you were introduced to" would like to meet with the group at the Lucky Nines casino at 7 pm this evening. A couple of the adventurers wonder aloud how good an idea it is to be seen talking to Talleon by Killian. Nameless points out, "Look on the positive side - if Killian shows any signs of knowing about the Citadel job, that'll be a really good excuse to kill him."

After having read and discussed the message, the group splits up again. Gareth heads to the Cathedral, where he sets up an appointment with the Archierophant. Since he has to wait for a couple of hours, he drops in on Bodo, who is still boyfully striving to carry out his duties as a novice. 

Some time later, Gareth is ushered into Ythana Morr's office. After exchanging greetings, he asks, "Can you tell me what divinations you have access to?"

The Archierophant raises an eyebrow and says a little frostily, "You asked for an appointment to ask me that? Why?"

Gareth goes on to explain that he's concerned about potentially being a fiend. 

This time, Ythana raises both eyebrows. "A paladin of the Flame asking me to check whether he is a fiend. I have not had that request since, well, ..."

"...ever?" completes Gareth, smiling despite the seriousness of his request.

"Yes," says Ythana with a small smile. "But why this concern?"

Gareth explains what the daelkyr said to him and repeats the specific phrase: "Fool! You cannot consume me, and no fiend can stand against me." 

Ythana asks a few more questions and then points out, "You do realize that you're depending on a translation from your companion Nameless, and that too of a creature that is the embodiment of insanity?"  

Gareth agrees but says that he is still concerned about what it said. "After all, it had no particular reason to lie to me." He asks again if the Archierophant has anything that she can use to detect if there is something unusual about him.

"Very well," she says. "Of course, as a paladin of the Flame, you can detect if there is anything tainted about you. And you would not remain a paladin if you were tainted." She stops and again quirks an eyebrow, "You are still a paladin of the Flame ... right?"

"Yes, the Flame does still favor me with its blessing. But then, I have heard of cases where evil priests have retained their clerical powers under the Flame."

Ythana simply says, "Yes," her expression clearly saying that she has no interest in pursuing that subject, and she casts a detect evil spell. Focusing on Gareth, she says, "Well, at least you do not appear to have an evil aura. Do you mind if I try something that would hurt you, if you are tainted?"

"No. Please go ahead."

Ythana rises and casts what Gareth recognizes as a holy smite, bringing down a stream of holy power around Gareth. The spell has absolutely no effect on him, and she says, "That would affect you even if something was hiding your alignment, so you must still be retaining your purity."

Gareth thanks her, though he isn't completely reassured. Ythana promises to consider further if there is any way to work out what the daelkyr may have meant or whether something is different about Gareth. She also asks him to let her know if anything else of import occurs, and he says he will do so.

Six, meanwhile, visits the weaponsmith to whom he had given the drawing and plans for the drow scorpion chain. The man says that after some experimenting he thinks that he can make it and has already begun work. He promises to have it ready for Six in another two days time. 

He also asks a number of questions about where Six got the idea for it. Six explains that he was recently in Xen'drik and saw a number of drow using the weapon. The weaponsmith is very interested in the story and comments that it's a pity Six couldn't bring back a specific example or two. He also comments that he doesn't really think there's a market for the weapon in Sharn due to its unusual nature and the likelihood that it would take significant training and practice to use correctly. It might however, he says, get more interest from some of the goblinoids, especially the Dhakaani, who use an unusually large number of chain weapons.

Nameless makes a number of visits that day. He first visits the Guild of Starlight and Shadows. There, he meets a couple of members who have heard about the expedition's presentation at Morgrave University and are fairly interested in their findings, and also checks on the availability of scrolls of spells that he might add to the Necklace of the Phantom Library later.  

From the Guild, he travels to Overlook in Upper Dura, where he visits the Shrine of il-Yannah. One of the kalashtar guards recognizes him and takes him to the aged seer Havakhad. The latter is evidently uninformed about the Angels' return and seems quite pleased to see Nameless. He asks about Nameless' adventures since their last meeting, which occurred exactly two months ago. Nameless suggests he get some tea, since it'll take a while, and settles down to relate much of what happened.

Once he is done, Nameless says that he is here to ask Havakhad's opinion about something. He goes on to relate the dream he had that Gareth also saw a version of, and asks Havakhad, "Do you think the quori might be involved with this in some way?"

Havakhad asks a few questions about details and then says, "I cannot think right now of something the quori would gain from sending you two that dream, but it is difficult to say what their aims and plans are. It is clearly not a natural dream. While it is theoretically possible that two people's dreamscapes might intersect, for two people near each other in Khorvaire to end up having dreamscapes right next to each other on Dal Quor, which is effectively infinite, is a little too much of a coincidence."

Nameless smiles mirthlessly and agrees. "I don't believe in coincidences. Only the appearance thereof."

Havakhad nods and says that he will consider it and see if his powers can tell him anything. He also tells Nameless that in the time since the Angels left, he has been in contact with kalashtar groups across Khorvaire and warned them of the newfound quori ability to possess unwilling targets. There has been a situation or two that have revealed that the quori ability is more limited than he originally feared and dependent on significant preparation and use of resources. Havakhad thanks Nameless again for his aid and that of his companions in revealing the threat and in ensuring that Havakhad survived it.

Nameless says, "No thanks necessary. And let me know if I can help in any way. I don't like people controlling me, so I owe the quori some pain."

Havakhad nods (as he tends to do regularly, whether speaking or listening). "Thank you. As I have said, we kalashtar do not ask outsiders to involved themselves in our war, but if offered, the aid of skilled people like yourself is a welcome boon. I will let you know if I think of any way you can help. And I will continue to think on the meaning of your dreams."

Nameless thanks Havakhad in turn and takes his leave. He then walks across to the Clifftop district, heading for a building he has heard of but never been to. It is a modest shop near the gleaming tower of the Esoteric Order, quite inconspicuous amongst the bright displays and attractions of the nearby magical businesses that give the area the name of the Mystic Market. A small sign outside the doorway says "The Augury". It clearly caters only to those who know what is contained within, rather than advertising widely to the curious.

Entering the shop, Nameless finds himself in a comfortable sitting area, with a number of doors leading inwards. One of the two people sitting at a table and talking greets him and asks how they can help. Nameless introduces himself and requests a meeting with Kestia. 

A few minutes later, Nameless is seated across a table from an elderly elf, whose fashionable attire and demeanor do not really fit her reputation as the most powerful arcanist in Sharn, albeit within the limited focus of the magewright. Her dress does nothing to hide the aberrant dragonmark on her neck, due to which she was expelled from House Phiarlan. 

Nameless explains to Kestia that he wishes her to use her divinatory abilities to aid with a particular mystery. He goes on to relate the details of Arrok's murder, also mentioning the issue of the tattoo that was taken from Arrok's corpse and showing his own to Kestia. 

The magewright is quite interested in the case and the tattoo, which she scans with an apparently permanent arcane sight that she possesses. Having done so and asked a few questions about Arrok, she also has a long discussion with Nameless about the abilities she can provide and the considerable costs that it will entail. Since no magic will simply answer the question of who killed Arrok and it is a fairly open-ended case, she suggests starting with some of the minor divinations she is capable of, and then (depending on their success or lack thereof) deciding whether to attempt significantly more powerful magic. Kestia says that she is ultimately capable of using a contact other plane dweomer, which is not only very dependent on the questions asked but is both taxing and risky, so she would rather not use it immediately. 

Nameless says that he is rapidly increasing his own powers as an arcanist, though divination is not his primary focus, and he hopes to be able to access the same spell soon, in which case she may not need to cast it for him. He hopes, however, that with her reputation as a very experienced diviner, she can find ways to make the eventual use of that spell more likely to succeed. Kestia promises to do what she can and says that she will contact him within a few days. Nameless thanks her and leaves, after handing over 500 galifars to cover her initial efforts.

After gathering at Trillia's home in the evening, the group heads down to Firelight and the Lucky Nines. With their habitual visits, many of the staff recognize them by now. While they are depositing their weapons in the foyer, one of the people on duty there comments that some people from the Watch were asking questions about them about a week ago, and asks what happened. 

Nameless says that someone they knew was murdered, to which the surprised man says, "Oh, I'm very sorry! Was it the friend of yours who used to come here too?" Realizing that he's speaking of Corven, Nameless says that he is fine (to some indistinct muttering from Luna of "more fine than we are, for sure!") and that it was someone else.

The Angels then proceed into the main gaming area, where they see Killian at his usual table, speaking to a dandyish halfling. For once, Killian looks just the slightest bit surprised, but quickly hides it, smiling and waving at the group. Another person waving is Talleon (in halfling form) from across the room, and the Angels head to his table. 

Once they join him, Talleon is quickly down to business, checking on what they discovered during the visit to Mizano Rupa's. He makes detailed notes of everything the group mentions, asking a number of questions of those who split up to do different things while trailing Ras and the bearded man. 

After he is done, Six says that perhaps the Lucky Nines isn't the best place for them to meet, since they're known here. Talleon says that he knows that, since they'd mentioned being here before to meet with the information broker they'd mentioned to him, and he specifically chose it because he was curious about who the other person was. Nameless says Killian is present and points him out. Talleon quite obviously turns around to stare at him, before turning back to the adventurers, a broad grin on his face for the first time that they've seen. 

He says, "I know you've only been in Sharn for a short time, so I think it's safe to say you don't have that much information about the political figures here. Right?"

"Right. Why?"

"Well, let's just say that you might find it interesting to check on the people on the Sharn city council. Especially Thurik Davandi, the councilor from Upper Menthis."

"Thur ... ik?" says Nameless, before beginning to smile himself. 

"Yes, Thurik. Davandi. And his family." Talleon's grin then disappears as quickly as it appeared and he adds, "The Citadel is not in the habit of providing payment for services rendered. But consider that a little piece of good faith on my part. And don't let it interfere with your work for us."

"We won't," says Nameless. "And thank you."

Talleon then says that he needs to leave and does so. As soon as he is out of the door, Killian (whose halfling friend has gone back to the gaming tables) rises and heads towards the group. "Nobody mention that name," says Nameless quietly to the group, as he arrives.

"Well, well, well," says Killian, smiling broadly, "I must say I wasn't expecting to see you here today." Then he pops up into the seat Talleon vacated and adds, "So, who's that friend of yours?"

"Just a friend of ours," says Nameless, even as Luna and Korm simultaneously say, "Can we go now?"

Killian makes a valiant, but abortive, attempt to keep the Angels in their seats and talking to him, but in less than a minute he's alone at the table, with Gareth the only one still present. 

"Well, your friends seem to be in a big hurry! Are you busy with anything important now?"

"Not really."

"Ah, so you might be available for a job?"

"It depends on what kind of job."

"Of course. Tell you what - I'll think on it and if I can think of something that can fit your skills, I'll let you know. By the way, since your friends don't seem that keen on the idea, what do you think of working with someone else that I could arrange?"

Gareth considers for a moment and says, "Well - that would depend on the people."

Killian smiles and says, "Excellent. I’ll have Flan drop in on you when I come up with something. You're at Coldflame Keep now, right?"

Unsurprised at Killian being informed of his change in location, Gareth simply nods. He then takes his leave too, joining the rest of the Angels, who are waiting outside and making idle bets about what Gareth's getting - or trying to get - them into now. 

Once he rejoins them, Luna simply says, "I can't believe you keep talking to that guy! Gah!" Korm doesn't say anything, but the expression on his face says it all.

As the group heads outside, Six comments, "You know, I'd been thinking that Killian might be government."

Surprised, Gareth asks, "When did you think of that?"

"It's been a while. Some of the jobs, and especially the way that drug den job went down, was a lot more like someone in the city government getting things done under the table, rather than someone connected to the gangs."

"Hmm - wish you'd said something earlier. Anyway, the Sharn government's not that bad, so Killian - or Thurik - might not be as bad as you guys think. If he's a city councilor, it means that people voted for him."

Nameless actually stops dead at that comment, causing Korm to walk into him and almost knock him over. "You do know that doesn't necessarily follow, right? Sheesh!" Six, Luna and Korm promptly crack up.

That little exchange ends the discussion and the group splits up.


----------



## shilsen

The next day, the Korranberg Chronicle's front-page article is about the Angels' expedition to Xen'drik. It goes into a fair amount of detail about the claims made at the presentation in Morgrave University, including the group's battles with the dragon and the daelkyr, as well as the destruction of the island. There is also a smaller linked article regarding the group's fight with the Children of Winter, the addition of Korm'akhan, his claim about helping dealing with the epidemic and its cause, and the corroboration from Cedric Galan. There is a passing mention of the Angels being taken to the Menthis Watch building by members of the Blackened Book, and says they are supposedly helping the Watch with some investigation. The article ends with a promise to keep the public posted about the Angels' future activities.

The Angels discuss the article while looking at the rest of the newspaper. They read about a sorcerous battle between a Riedran and an unknown spellcaster in the Lhazaar principalities in Regalport. There is another one about the supposed entrance by a dread beholder, reputedly from the Demon Wastes, and its minions into the Whisper Woods in Aundair, which presumably has something to do with the magical Whisper Rock. There is also one about a failed attempt by a band of Aereni elves to steal a Xen'drik artifact from Rekkenmark Academy in Karrnath. Rumor says that they were members of the Aereni Deathguard and the artifact - now moved to the Royal vaults in Korth - was stolen from Aerenal itself. The KC also includes an announcement by House Lyrandar of major plans to increase their fleet, followed by comments from some of the other Houses that the plans are not feasible and are badly designed. 

As for Sharn news, the KC mentions the impending Skysedge gala, a big social party that is to occur at Skysedge Park on 25 Barrakas. There is also a short reference to a cultural exhibition of shifter artifacts at Morgrave University. The exhibition title, "Artifacts of a Primitive Culture", draws a disgusted snort from Luna.

In the early evening, Luna heads down to the Citadel in bird shape to await Ras. He emerges in his normal form and then wanders into a nearby shop, where he slips behind a set of shelves and emerges in the scarred human shape he seems to commonly wear. Ras then walks down to the tavern district of Olladra's Kitchen, where he enters a small restaurant called Ellfate's Eatery and settles down to an early dinner.

Luna changes into a dog and slips in the restaurant. Once inside, she hears Ras talking to a few people who look like merchants. The others refer to him as Tars and seem to be blustering about wanting the monarchy to be overthrown and replaced by a consortium of merchant princes. Unfortunately, she is very quickly shooed out of the restaurant and cannot hear any more.

Ras has a leisurely meal and then heads across to the Dragoneyes district and the casino Chance. The rest of the Angels have already made it there by the time he arrives. On the way, they find that Dragoneyes is a red light district, full of establishments and people catering to the more carnal of pleasures. The eastern section is louder and rougher, catering to teamsters and Cog workers, whereas the western part is clearly designed with the more wealthy in mind, providing more sophisticated pleasures. 

Chance is such an establishment, an evidently very popular casino, both larger and better appointed than the Lucky Nines. Besides the regular gaming tables, a large section is devoted to covering sporting events around the city. Ras, when he enters, heads straight for the former. Luna enters a little later, to inform the others about what she saw. Once she has arrived, the adventurers split up into two smaller groups, so that they can keep an eye on Ras more easily and less obviously.

While moving around, they learn a little more about Chance from the people around them. The casino takes its name from the eponymous owner, a changeling who is well known for never wearing the same appearance two days in a row. He - or she - is only recognizable by a distinctive amulet that he wears, which bears the symbol of the Traveler. When hearing about this, the reference to the Traveler reminds Nameless of their erstwhile foe Desro and he asks some people whether they ever saw someone fitting his description. A couple of people do mention seeing such a man at Chance about a month ago, which would place it during the time the Angels were in Xen'drik. Nobody mentions seeing him any time recently.

The Angels also hear that one of the well-known, but less overtly advertised, specialities of Chance is the casino's willingness to arrange and cover a bet on literally anything, including unusual things like an adventurer's chance of seducing the Valenar ambassador in 24 hours or a fugitive's chances of evading a Tharashk inquisitive for a week.

While picking up these bits of information, the Angels keep a careful eye on Ras. He is chatting with people he knows as much as actually gambling, and has clearly been here often. He is also using the same name as at Ellfate's, since people refer to him as Tars. 

Interestingly, the bearded, blue-eyed man is here too, already present in the casino before Ras arrives. He ends up gambling at the same table right next to Ras, but never actually talking to him. With neither doing anything suspicious, Nameless gets the idea that they might be communicating in some way through their bets. He spends some time studying the numbers and amounts they bet, trying to see a pattern. What he quickly discovers is that they are placing bets that, though seemingly different, are such as to ensure that the amount one bets is regularly the amount the other one wins. And the chips one gets are often placed close enough to the others that they are being exchanged in the shuffle.

The bearded man cashes in and leaves half an hour after Ras enters, with Luna heading out after him a few seconds later. When she enters the foyer, she almost bumps into him as he returns to the main floor area, patting his pockets as if he lost something. Not wanting to get his attention, she continues past him and into the street outside, where she heads down an alley and changes form into an eagle and flies to a shadowy perch. The others see the man re-enter the floor area, look around and then exit again. Once he emerges into the street, Luna follows him again.

Ras continues to gamble for half and hour before leaving too, followed at a distance by the Angels. He walks up to Middle Tavick’s and the Deathsgate district, stopping at a tavern called Redblade’s. The place probably caters to adventurers, considering the number of well-armed individuals drinking within, none of whom have any Watch or military uniforms on. Six uses his hat of disguise and enters too, getting an ale and settling down in a corner.

He sees that Ras is talking across the counter to a middle-aged half-orc, who bears a very impressive collection of scars and some impressive muscles, though he is running a little to fat. Ras, still being called Tars, refers to the other as Rraac and seems to know him quite well. Rraac is presumably the owner, since he makes no motion to serve anyone, letting the other two bartenders handle the work. 

The tavern is too busy and loud for Six to work out the details of what Ras is saying, but he gathers that Rraac and he are simply exchanging gossip and pleasantries. Six times it to get out of the door a short while before Ras and has rejoined the others when he emerges. They follow Ras to a skycoach dock and back to Ambassador Towers. There, he goes straight back to the Citadel, only ducking into some shadows on the way to switch to half-orc form. 

After seeing him head in, the Angels head up to Carosten Park, where they find Luna waiting for them. She says that it was a very similar experience to last time's. The bearded man proceeded into the eastern section of Dragoneyes, with Luna shadowing him. He ignored propositions from a few of the prostitutes and once again slipped into a dark and empty alley. This time, Luna didn't wait but followed quickly, but by the time she was inside the alley, he was gone again. 

This time, she says, she's quite sure he did not enter any buildings. She also used a detect magic at the spot and picked up no lingering magic. Nameless points out that if he used minor enough magic, the auras would only linger for a few seconds. What that means, he theorizes, is that either the person hid himself from Luna using mundane methods or used magic to conceal himself and move away, though evidently without using teleportation magic like a dimension door, since that would leave an aura that would linger for a few minutes. Luna is quite positive that she would have detected the man if he was just hiding, especially since she would have smelt him out.

The Angels discuss a couple of the things they discovered and then split up as usual. Nameless and Six travel back to Deathsgate and head toward Trillia's. People still surround them even though it is after 9 pm, the area's nature as an adventurer's district tending to create later and more traffic than in some other sections of Sharn. 

As they are walking across a skybridge and talking about the day's experiences, Six sees a blur of motion as the person walking behind Nameless (a nondescript-looking human) swings a fist at the back of his head. With a startled cry, he shoves Nameless sideways, causing the unexpected blow to miss*. 

Even as Nameless whirls around and Six grabs at his spiked chain, more attackers appear from the crowd nearby. A tall mustachioed man in banded mail armor hurls a tanglefoot bag at Six at point-blank range, but the adroit warforged spins away**. A stout dwarven woman with a series of braids in her beard hurls a similar bag at Nameless, which hits his chest and explodes into a mass of sticky goo, hampering his movements. 

As the crowd around them shouts in panic and runs, a fourth assailant is revealed. This one, a slender man wearing a chain shirt, doesn't actually move to attack but simply yells a series of commands to the others. "Bracket them! Focus on the mage! Don't let him cast a spell!"

Unfortunately for Nameless and Six, the three other attackers follow the instructions to the letter. Even as Nameless tries to both dodge away and cast a spell, with the sticky goo making it difficult to move fluidly, the first attacker strikes again. He smashes a balled fist into the alienist's side, causing Nameless to see stars and momentarily be unable to act. The armored man, having quickly produced a two-handed flail, smashes the spiked ball into Nameless' head, sending him to his knees in agony. The dwarf steps in, putting all her strength behind a punch with the spiked gauntlet on her right hand***. It smashes into Nameless' jaw, knocking him down and out. 

Even as he collapses, the apparent leader yells, "Careful - we're not supposed to kill them!" Turning towards Six he casts a spell, causing a layer of grease to coat the spiked chain. Six manages to hold onto it and manages to roll out of his position between the assailants, but he slips on the goo that still coats the ground**** and takes a nasty punch from the dwarf. 

Recovering his balance, Six lashes out at the armored man and trips him, but the target rolls away from the follow-up blow*****. That momentary success is the last for him, as the other two rush him, the dwarf focusing on roundhouse swings while her companion, an unarmored human, unleashes a series of punches and kicks at the warforged. The armored man quickly climbs back to his feet and wades in too.

Even as Six wards of the first couple of blows and takes a hit or two, the leader casts another spell. This one attacks Six's mind and he feels a wave of unusual mirth overtake him******. Laughing maniacally, he collapses to the ground and is promptly beaten into unconsciousness.

A little later, Nameless opens his eyes to see a few concerned faces looking down at him, one of which he recognizes as Glauster, Trillia's steward. "Master Nameless," he says worriedly - and inanely, "Are you all right?"

"Do I look all right?" growls Nameless weakly, feeling the blood running down his face. As they move him to an upright position, he sees a recumbent Six a few steps away. Glauster keeps speaking - "I was returning home when I heard a commotion. I came over to see what happened and saw you and Six and some people run off. The Watch should be coming soon and ..."

A gesture from Nameless cuts him off. "Get me to Six," he says, and the men holding him up gingerly do so. Despite the pain in his head, Nameless manages to cast a spell to repair Six's wounds. The big warforged opens his eyes and then sits up with a muffled groan. 

As Six levers himself to his feet, Nameless reaches around to his bag of holding for a potion, only to find it missing. With all of its contents. Including the Key. 

"Six?" he says, drawing the warforged's attention, who has already discovered that his own handy haversack is missing too. Nameless simply says, "They stole my bag. With everything in it."

* Also known as a 2 on the attack roll
** Another 2! Both 2's were rolled by Gareth's player, who was evidently on his allies' side.
*** This is when I got to say, "She's 4th lvl, so she only has a +18 to hit right now!" Pity I didn't have a camera for some of the expressions on the players' faces.
**** Natural 1 on the tumble check
***** Natural 1 on the attack
****** Another natural 1. Six would have gone down soon enough, but he made it really easy by rolling five 1's in six rolls, including 4 in a row! I've never seen that happen before.


----------



## shilsen

The pair are interrupted by a couple of Watch guards who hurry up. They quickly explain that they hear the commotion and hurried over. Some people pointed out the direction the attackers went but they couldn't find them. They begin to question the two adventurers, asking if they know the attackers, if they live in the area, if they are members of the Deathsgate Adventurers Guild, etc. 

Nameless, now slightly past the verge of collapse due to having drunk a healing potion, quickly explains that they do not know the assailants but they were clearly very skilled . He adds that they will visit the Watch house to make a report when they feel up to it. Now that it is clear that nobody was killed, the watchmen seem to have no problems with letting the pair leave and settle for asking the gathered crowd some questions. 

As the pair head away with Glauster, he hands Six back his hat of disguise, saying, "Some of the folks who saw the fight said that as soon as you two went down those people grabbed your packs and ran. One took this hat but then dropped it as they fled."

"Why would they leave it?" wonders Six aloud, as he puts it back on. The question is answered immediately as he feels something inside and removes it to extract a folded piece of paper stuck inside. 

Unrolling it, he silently reads the message - 'Don't try to protect Tars. You can't.' He shows the note to Nameless, who carefully rolls it up and places it in a pocket for later consideration.

***
Once they are back at Trillia's, Nameless asks her to use a sending to inform Luna what has happened and ask her and Korm to come here, as well as sending someone for Gareth . Trillia, who is both surprised and worried about the attack, promptly does so. The reply from Luna says that she will fetch Gareth herself, while Korm goes directly to Trillia's.

Once Korm arrives, about fifteen minutes later, the three adventurers and Trillia discuss what is to be done. Six points out that it is nearly five hours since the Key was outside the bag and that they may be in trouble if six hours passes. Korm says that perhaps the attackers will open the bag and remove it, and if they do so even temporarily, it will "re-set" their six-hour time limit. 

They also discuss the possible identity of the attackers, primarily wondering whether they are involved with Arrok's murder or with the Angels's current job for the Citadel. Without giving Trillia any other details, Nameless tells her that Tars is someone associated with the case. Korm says that maybe they were just trying to scare them off the case and the stealing of the items was an unfortunate coincidence. Nameless says that it's a fairly big coincidence. And coincidence or not, they need to get the Key back before anyone else realizes that it's gone.

Luna and Gareth arrive about an hour after Trillia's sending, along with Cedric Galan, whom Gareth has invited along. Cedric greets the others, having met them for the first time since they returned to Sharn, and Korm'akhan, whom he hasn't seen since shortly after their battle with the Children of Winter in the Cogs, and says that he'll be glad to help in any way. 

After some discussion, they decide that Korm should head to the Citadel and get in touch with Talleon, letting him know about the attack and the note, and ask if he has any idea who the attackers might be. Six, who has been making sketches of the attackers, provides him with one. The others are heading to Clifftop to check with the Adventurers Guild there if they recognize any of the attackers and also to check with the Augury to see if any magical tracking can be done. Trillia, though able to cast scrying, has not prepared it this day and says she'll have one the next morning. She remains behind at her home, in case the Watch stop by or any other information is discovered.

Korm sprouts his wings and flies off towards the Citadel, while the rest head to Clifftop. There, Luna heads to the Adventurers Guild with another sketch from Six, while the remaining four go to the Augury. There they argue with a sleepy receptionist until he agrees to call Kestia. She emerges a little later to say that she hopes it is worth disturbing her at close to midnight. Nameless quickly explains that they were attacked and had a number of items stolen, and need her to scry on the thieves. 

"So why does this have to be done immediately?" asks Kestia.

"Remember the tattoo that I showed you? All of us have one. One of the items stolen is linked to it and if we do not recover it soon, let's just say bad things will happen to us." 

"Hmm. Is there anything you can tell me about the thieves besides a description?"

Nameless grins and produces the note. "Will this help?"

"Definitely. Now make yourselves comfortable. This will take a little over an hour."

Kestia leaves to prepare herself and the adventurers make themselves as comfortable as can be. Cedric, who has been listening with interest to Nameless' discussion with Kestia, asks Gareth, "What's this thing about the tattoo and this item? You never told me about it when you spoke about the trip."

"Oh," says Gareth, before going on to provide a few details about it, though he says as little about the Key as possible. "If it makes you feel a little better," he concludes, "I haven't even told the Archierophant about it."

Cedric chuckles and says, "You know, that does make me feel a little better." 

A little while later, Luna walks in to say that she spoke to a few people at the Clifftop Guild. One of them recognized the dwarf and the martial artist and said that he thinks they're new members of the Deathsgate Guild. They'd started a brawl with a few members of the Clifftop Guild, as "those bastards at Deathsgate" have been known to do every once in a while.

Korm also arrives, nearly an hour later, with less positive information. He says that he made the mistake of flying directly up to the huge balcony at the Citadel, where he was almost shot by a couple of ballistae before he managed to identify himself. It took a long while before he was eventually able to meet Talleon, who apparently wasn't that pleased about the late-night (and ostentatious) visit.

Talleon did, however, say that he's pleased to get the information. Though he wasn't about to mobilize Citadel resources because of an attack on the Angels, he'd consider providing them some help if it turned out to be absolutely necessary. For the time being, he suggests simply trying to track down the attackers and finding out who hired them. He'll contact the group soon and check what they discovered.

Kestia makes another appearance some time after Korm arrives, to say that she has been successful in scrying the attackers and was undetected in doing so. She found the slim human and the one in banded mail sitting at a table with a number of items, presumably including the stolen ones strewn across it. From the surroundings and what they were speaking of, Kestia presumes that it was a derelict building or abandoned warehouse in Lower Dura. Among the interesting things that they spoke of was a plan to leave Sharn as soon as they have the rest of the money ("and screw the Deathsgate Guild", one said), which they are apparently to receive at a place called Redblade's. There was on reference to who had hired them, but the slimmer man did say that the others had come too close to killing the targets and also comments that they were "bloody easy to take."

"I'll show them bloody easy next time," says Nameless grimly, before thanking Kestia. 

He hands over another 500 galifars to go with the original amount he had given Kestia and says that he'll provide more when needed. Kestia thanks Nameless and says that she'll contact him when she has something more on what he already asked her.

The group then heads back to Deathsgate and Trillia's home, discussing what they are to do next. Along the way, they stop near Redblade's and find that it is closed. Six changes form into that of a drunken human and goes and bashes on the door, yelling, "Open up!"

After some time, a light appears at a window above him and the same half-orc he saw before sticks his head out. "Dagger take you!" he shouts angrily, "It's the middle of the night!"

"So?" slurs Six, "When you open?!"

"At six in the morning. Now get away from here, you bum!"

Six stumbles away to rejoin the others. They then head back to Trillia's, who they find having a nap. After they tell her what they discovered, she suggests that she could visit the Deathsgate Guild and check on the people who attacked them. Cedric looks up from a bottle that he has somehow managed to locate during their traveling and suggests that he do so instead.

"Good idea," says Nameless. "You'll probably be better at that. The path of the alienist tends not to make us people persons."

"Hey!" says Trillia, sounding indignant but smiling. "That's true, but still - hey!"

Cedric laughs and takes his leave. He returns half an hour later to say that he did manage to find something about the attackers. The slim human is called Jayson and his companions are Selgo (man in banded mail), Phiros (martial artist) and Orda (dwarven priestess). They are a group of adventurers from northern Breland who recently came to Sharn and joined the Deathsgate Guild. They have also recently been expelled from the Guild because of fighting other members.

Cedric comments, "From what I've heard of the Deathsgate Guild, you have to do some serious  to get chucked out. But, on the bright side, nobody's going to care if you end up fighting and killing these guys."

"Oh, no," says Nameless with deadly seriousness, "We're definitely not killing them. If you kill somebody, it makes the pain stop."


----------



## shilsen

Whoof! 

That gets things to the way they were before the boards crashed. We've had one session since, so I'll start posting a section every two-three days, as I had been doing.


----------



## shilsen

*Vengeance*

With a number of hours to go before the tavern opens, the Angels decide to get a good night's sleep, or rather a partial night's sleep, considering that it is already about 2 am. Before they do so, Nameless asks Six to return to Redblade and pick a place near the tavern from which he can keep an eye on it. Nameless also asks Cedric if he's willing to give Six some company, so that he's not out there alone.

"Oh, great!" says Cedric with a grimace. "So you lazy buggers settle down here while I'm up all night?" Before Nameless can respond, he quickly adds, "Yeah, yeah, I'm just kidding - I'll go along. I'll need to grab my forty winks there too, but at least I'll be there if somebody tries to jump us."

After Six and Cedric depart, Trillia finds everyone a place to sleep. Though some quarters are quite cramped, with all of their exertions and traveling of the previous day, the adventurers are soon asleep. 

***
Their sleep is interrupted after only three hours, when they all come awake, with their tattoos warm and throbbing and a strong sense that they should get close to the Key. Evidently the muggers must have replaced the Key in an extradimensional space six hours ago. Luckily, the sensation of desire for the Key's presence fades in half a minute. Each of the Angels also feels an internal certainty that it is because they are seeking to recover the Key that there are no untoward effects of their separation from it. The throbbing fades along with the desire, but the tattoos remain warm, though not uncomfortably so.

With no options at this point, the adventurers go back to sleep. This one, however, is just as short-lived, since they are woken an hour later by Trillia. She tells them that Dala is waiting to meet them. 

The group quickly convenes in Trillia's sitting room. Dala, having had no knowledge of the Key's loss, had been woken an hour earlier by the throbbing sensation. Wondering what was going on, she headed to Trillia's to meet the Angels. They explain what has happened, which understandably worries her a lot. 

"Do you think this attack has something to do with Arrok's murder?" she asks.

"No," says Nameless. "While these ones were efficient, they weren't anywhere near as powerful as the person who killed him is supposed to have been. And we've got some information - which I can't share right now - that indicates it has more to do with one of our other jobs. I can tell you that we had Kestia, from the Augury, _scry_ on the attackers and they said something about being hired to do this. We're hoping to catch them where their payoff is supposed to occur."

As the conversation continues, a slightly tired-looking Cedric returns to say that the tavern has just opened. A couple of people already went in, but they seem to be part of the staff there. The adventurers immediately move out, leaving Dala with Trillia. 

They find Six in a reasonably concealed position from which he can keep an eye on both the tavern and the skybridge (which is the only entrance and exit) leading to it. Shortly after they arrive, a couple of armed and armored people head into the tavern, presumably members of the Deathsgate guild that the tavern is supposed to cater to. 

Nameless suggests that Six and Cedric enter the tavern separately and grab seats in there, so they can keep a closer eye on the clientele. The two of them do so, taking seats on opposite sides of the door. 

Over the next hour and a bit, a dozen or so more people enter the tavern, a much higher number than one would expect at most taverns this early in the day. Most seem to be adventurers, from the amount of weapons and armor carried. Most are also clearly regular customers, from the way they greet the eponymous half-orc proprietor Redblade. A few of them are taken into the back rooms of the tavern for fifteen minutes or so at a time.

Around 8 o'clock, Nameless notices something unusual about a pair of people who are just stepping onto the skybridge. While he examines them carefully, as he has everyone heading into the tavern, Nameless notices tiny and telltale flickers, which indicate that they are wearing some form of magical disguise. 

Not wanting to risk being heard casting a spell, Nameless elbows Gareth in the ribs and hisses, "Detect evil on this end of the skybridge. Quick!" A startled Gareth does so, almost immediately saying, "I do detect evil in the area." After a few more seconds of concentration, he adds, "There are a couple of lingering auras." Then he adds, pointing at a rotund merchant setting up a street stall, "And that guy's faintly evil." 

Nameless throws another look at the two people who are halfway down the skybridge and says, "That's enough for me." He motions the others to follow and, as they go, explains what he saw. Stopping at a relatively secluded area, he casts a couple of preparatory spells, as do the others. That being done, the group turns and heads back to the skybridge and across it into the tavern.

As they enter, Nameless sees the two men who caught his attention sitting at a table against the wall. One looks up at the entrance of the Angels, and without a word of warning, Nameless casts a _dispel magic_, targeting it on the man whose magical disguise he had detected.

Not only does Nameless ' action take his target and his allies off-guard, but it surprises the dozen or so armed people in the room. Cries of "Hey!" and "What the hell?!" ring out, and hands drop to weapons or dart towards spell component pouches as Nameless incantates his spell.

Before anyone can interfere, the magic takes effect, stripping away the target's disguise and revealing him to be the nondescript-looking martial artist who had begun the attack the previous night. Evidently some of the people in the room recognize him, since a couple of cries of "Phiros?" also ring out.

Quickly realizing what the reaction from the room might be, Nameless promptly shouts, "So you were screwing with the Deathsgate Guild, eh?"

The man sitting across from Phiros comes quickly to his feet, pulling out a scroll he was apparently holding under the table. "Get them!" he shouts, "The bastards are from the Clifftop guild!" As he speaks he steps back to the wall, and then he raises the scroll and shouts a string of arcane syllables. 

Luna, who's already in the middle of a spell, feels a mental tug but ignores it, as do the rest of her companions. Other than Six, who leaps to his feet and begins to babble and sway back and forth.

Gareth quickly raises a hand and shouts to the room in general, "Do not worry! We're only here to apprehend those criminals!" Cedric, who has smoothly kicked back his chair and risen to his feet, longsword sliding into one hand (the other being busy keeping his drink from spilling), adds his voice.

Their attempts at diplomacy are quickly drowned out as Luna completes her spell. To the horror of her allies and the evident alarm of the customers, a column of fire blasts down on Phiros and his ally as Luna uses a _flame strike_ as persuasion. Phiros adroitly leaps out of the way, but his companion only has time to scream once before he collapses in a smoking heap.

Nameless' aggrieved, "Son of a bitch! Luna - I want to take them alive!" is drowned out by Redblade's even more aggrieved growl, "The bastards are burning my place! Get them!"

Immediately, a number of the Deathsgate members leap into action, a couple sending arrows flying at the Angels, while others charge them with weapons drawn. One near the rear of the room clasps a holy symbol and brings down a _sound burst_ that momentarily rocks Luna, Korm and Nameless with concussive force. 

The adventurers keep their composure and do not respond in kind, trying to persuade the customers and the irate Redblade that they mean no harm to anyone other than the two muggers. Nameless, ignoring a halfling that has just caught him a wicked blow to the knee, pulls out a bag of money and yells, "I'll pay for the damage," while Korm settles for drawing his sword and threatening, "Don't force me to kick all of your asses!"

Gareth, meanwhile, rushes up to Phiros and smashes the flat of Kizmet's blade against his head. Phiros staggers backwards and uses his momentum to tumble backwards and out of the nearest open window. The sight provides a bit of a distraction and aids in the cessation of hostilities, as does Luna's response of rushing out the door, transforming into an eagle and diving off the skybridge. The _confused_ Six unintentionally helps as well, suddenly swinging wildly and catching an unprepared Korm a crack on the side of his head. 

As the big orc yells and steps backwards, Nameless shouts again, "He's _confused_. Let me _dispel_ the enchantment. I promise we mean you no harm." 

Redblade, who's just produced a large studded wooden club from behind the bar, growls, "HE'S confused?!" Then he looks around and says, "Okay, guys, hold on for a moment. Don't kill them - yet!"

There are a few grumbles of discontent, but the Deathsgate members do comply, though they all keep a very careful eye on the Angels. Nameless quickly _dispels_ Six's _confusion_ and then, with help from Cedric and Gareth, explains that they had been mugged (some of the clientele say they'd heard of a mugging in the area) and were just trying to apprehend the attackers. 

Luna, meanwhile, quickly finds Phiros a few hundred feet beneath her and dropping. She folds her wings and dives like a stone after him. Her unfortunate target, not having noticed her, activates a brooch of _feather fall_ and begins to float down to a skybridge below him. He has barely landed when a feathered bolt alights on his head with claws extended, sending him to the ground in an unconscious and bleeding heap. 

The surprised witnesses stare aghast as the eagle claws and pecks the unconscious man a little more to ensure that he stays down and then turns into a shifter. Luna looks around, waves nonchalantly and announces loudly, "Don't be scared. I am one of the Angels. We're cleaning up Sharn!" She then turns into a bat the size of a horse, seizes the unconscious man and flies upwards carrying him, leaving a crowd of onlookers animatedly discussing the event.

Up at Redblade's, her companions have bound their prisoner (who turns out to be Jayson, supposedly the leader of the four muggers) and his wounds, divested him of equipment (which included Six's _handy haversack_ but not any of Nameless' equipment or the Key), explained the situation a couple more times, and Nameless has handed over fifty galifars for damage to the tavern and bought the room a round (which makes them - and Cedric - very happy). 

That's when someone near the window says, "I think your friend's back. Or Phiros got mugged by a giant bat."

With Luna's return, the Angels and Cedric take a hurried leave. Before they go, Redblade tells them, "Thanks for the money. And here's some advice - if you ever come into my tavern again, you'll be leaving feet first. Now get out." 

Once back at Trillia's, the Angels find Surr'kal waiting for them as well. Having only heard (when Korm and Luna left him the previous night) that the Key was lost, he had shown up to find out what the situation was. Nameless explains that though the two prisoners don't have the Key on them, they should have some information soon enough.

The Angels head down to a secure room in Trillia's basement with the two bound prisoners. There, Nameless says, "Let's question them one at a time. Leave Phiros tied up. And somebody nail Jayson to something heavy."

Korm asks puzzledly, "Nail?"

Nameless grins mirthlessly and says, "Yeah. His hands."

Cedric says calmly but firmly, "I know you're upset about being mugged and the stuff you lost, but there's no need for that." Gareth quickly adds, "We aren't torturing these people. Period."

Nameless argues, "This isn't torture," but, after one look at their expressions, gives up. "Fine. Then hold on for a moment." He summons a pseudonatural large spider, which is about the size of a cow, and orders it to perch above Jayson and assume its alternate form. The creature does so, turning into a disgusting mass of writhing tentacles.

The Angels then revive Jayson, who promptly screams and apparently wets himself at the sight perched a foot above his face. Once he has calmed down and is certain that he's not about to be killed immediately, the questioning commences. Unsurprisingly, considering the circumstances, Jayson is very eager to share as much as he possibly can with them, only asking in return that he not be killed. Nameless grimly says, "No, you will not be _killed_."

Jayson reveals that he and his three companions had been thrown out of the Deathsgate guild and were trying to make some money before leaving Sharn. They were at Redblade's two days ago when a half-elf offered them a job. Though none of them knew him, he apparently knew them and their circumstances, since he approached them. They were told that they would get a confirmation on the night of the 16th, which they did, less than an hour before the actual mugging. 

As for the targets, they were told that these were a pair of adventurers belonging to the Clifftop guild. They were explicitly not supposed to kill them but were to beat them up, drop a note and run. Jayson admits that the taking of some of their equipment was due to simple greed on the part of him and his companions. The payment was supposed to be 4000 galifars in total, with an advance of 2000 and some equipment to help. The rest was to be provided this morning. "Decent amount of money," comments Gareth. 

When asked about the rest of the equipment, he says that it's with his allies, Selgo and Orda, in their temporary lair, an abandoned building in the Fallen district. They'd figured that there'd be no chance of running into someone they knew there. Nameless makes him provide detailed directions to the place and warns him that if any of the information is wrong, he will regret it. Jayson says that he's told them everything he knows. "For your sake, I hope so," says Nameless, as the group departs, knocking out Jayson before they go and leaving Phiros and him tied up and gagged.


----------



## shilsen

*Ravers (or "What the hell? These guys are just weird!")*

Fallen, a district in Lower Dura, is in many ways the most deplorable section of Sharn that the Angels have seen. At first glance it looks like a ruin, with huge chunks of stone scattered around the outer streets. Statues of the gods are common here, but almost all have shattered features and broken limbs. Many of the buildings and almost all of the few bridges in the area have collapsed in whole or part, and most of the surviving buildings show some amount of damage. The population here is less than in any other district they have seen, consisting almost purely of the poor and indigent, who stare at the heavily armed and well-dressed adventurers and scuttle out of their path.

As the group proceeds deeper into the area, the buildings are in progressively worse shape, and soon segments of what must have been a huge structure are visible, jutting from crushed buildings. 

"The Glass Tower," says Nameless, recalling the history of the War even though he has no idea where that knowledge comes from. "It was a floating citadel that was brought down in 918, almost certainly by magic. It fell apart and took out this district, which never recovered. Biggest act of sabotage in Sharn during the War."

"Yes," says Cedric. "I've heard of it. They still commemorate - or mourn - the date here in Sharn, sometime in Olarune."

The building that Jayson said his companions are in is deep within Fallen, close to the epicentre of the Glass Tower's fall. It was originally a larger structure, but now has only the ground floor standing, with the shattered remnants of the floor above, and rubble surrounding it. 

After some discussion, the adventurers decide that most of them will stay hidden as close as possible, while the two druids fly to the building from above and enter. Korm calls upon his Gatekeeper training and large feathery wings grow from his shoulders. He then picks Luna up and flies upwards, coming in from above and hoping not to be spotted.

Luna and he land amidst the remnants of the floor above and locate a partly shattered staircase leading down. Proceeding downstairs into a dusty and rubble-strewn room, they find no immediate sign of habitation, though there are clear tracks in the dust. While Luna takes advantage of the increased space to take on her habitual form of a large brown bear, Korm shoves open a nearby door.

As he does, the first thing the pair see is an armored man with a two-handed flail, evidently awaiting their arrival. He stands inside a large and much cleaner room. His companion appears too, emerging from her invisible position next to an open door in the far wall as she brings down a _sound burst_ on the two druids.

The cacophony of sound stuns Korm, causing him to drop his sword, but Luna ignores it and rushes forward, squeezing through the doorway. The waiting warrior, surprised by the appearance of a large bear, shouts and swings wildly, the flail bouncing off her magically-enchanted hide. Before he can recover, a large paw lays his neck open and pulls him into her grasp. 

The dwarf shouts and rushes forward, her spiked gauntlet glowing with a dark radiance as she swings it with brutal force into the bear's side. Luna stoically ignores the blow and proceeds to squeeze the breath out of her target, interspersing it with bites and more clawing. 

With Korm picking up his sword and entering the battle with a swing that would have taken the dwarf's head from her shoulders if she hadn't ducked, she decides that this is a lost cause and rushes for the rear door. Her ally screams, "Orda - you bitch! Don't leave me!", but to no avail. A desperate lunge pulls him out of the bear's grasp and he manages to land a heavy blow with the flail before Luna rips off part of his face, sending him staggering into a slash from Korm that drops him in a heap. 

Luna promptly rushes after the dwarf. Squeezing through the door, she finds herself in what was presumably the rear of the house, which has now fallen apart and become one with the remnants of the fallen citadel. Large segments of the Glass Tower remain intact, with smaller pieces littering the area and creating a maze of masonry and rubble. Orda is hurrying through it as fast as she can, but she is barely fifty feet from the door when Luna catches up to her and she is forced to turn and fight.

Cedric and the rest of the Angels, who headed for the building as soon as they heard the sounds of conflict, burst into the room to see a dead man on the floor and Luna facing the dwarf some distance outside the rear door. 

Korm, having figured that Luna can handle Orda, is looking through a table nearby. As the others enter, he lifts a bag and the Key and says, "Found it!"

"Is my necklace in there?" calls Nameless, even as he takes a few steps towards the door to the rear. As Six, Gareth and Cedric rush past Nameless and out the door, Korm checks inside the _bag of holding_ and produces the necklace.

Outside, Luna has just seized Orda when she notices movement through the ruins around them. Patches of shadow seem to be moving through the rubble towards them. As she tries to drag the struggling dwarf back towards the others, a dozen individuals step out of the ruins. 

Most of them are human (with a couple from other races), but they are bestial in appearance, with matted hair and twisted features. They are all wearing ragged robes and where skin is visible it is usually covered with sores, some scabbed over and others openly bleeding. What is perhaps strangest is that they all have shards of glass attached to their robes like some strange jewelry. Or perhaps not the strangest, considering that two of them stand in the middle of patches of shadow that moves with them. 

"Do you know who, or what, they are?" asks Gareth.

"No idea," says Cedric, as he takes a ready stance beside Gareth, just in case. Nameless, seeing these new arrivals, quickly _summon_s a pair of his patented bison, commanding them to wait until they realize exactly what these people are. 

Orda seems to have some idea, as she shouts, "Ravers!" She struggles even harder in Luna's grasp and then punches Luna with another glowing fist. Irritated, Luna growls and bites into her shoulder. 

Half of the ravers pull off small shards of glass from their clothing and hurl them at the adventurers. To the relief of their targets, none of the shards hit. The relief is momentary. As the shards hit the ground and shatter, a couple of the Angels feel a sharp pain as if slashed by a weapon, and shallow cuts appear on their bodies.

The other six ravers rip larger shards of glass from their clothing and each walk up to one of the adventurers, lifting the shard to show it to the chosen person (or, in two cases, bison). Then they crack the shards in half and drop them, ignoring the blood that drips from their cut hands. And as each shard breaks, the person (or bovine) reflected in it feels a wound as deep as if inflicted by a weapon swung by a powerful enemy.

Cries of pain, surprise and general unease ring out and the adventurers quickly fall to defending themselves. To their relief, the enemies are not as durable as they are strange, even though their skin is evidently as hard as bark.  

Gareth _smite_s one to the ground and shouts, "They're evil!"

"Do you really think I give a damn?" responds Nameless, splitting a volley of _magic missile_s to drop the two that his bison have just gored.

Cedric, diving adroitly past one to flank it between Korm and himself and send it staggering back from a sword-blow, grins and says, "Nameless has a point!"

Luna, finally having dropped Orda, drags her corpse closer to the door. As she does so, she sees more figures emerging from the ruins in the distance and moving closer. Unable to speak, she growls and waves a paw in that direction, indicating it to the others.

The ravers continue to attack in their strange fashion, some displaying even more strange abilities. Two hurl shards near Six that explode into puffs of dust, which expand into clouds that resemble large arms reaching up to clasp the big warforged. Six, just having had his spiked chain pulled from his grasp by a burly raver, smashes one arm into dust with a punch but the other wraps around him. Others among the Angels find that as they suffer more wounds, strange feelings of despair assault their minds, though they manage to fight them off.

Luna, having squeezed her way back into the room, drops Orda's corpse and _summon_s a dinosaur to support the one remaining bison. This buys her allies more time and they make a fighting retreat, Cedric, Gareth and Six (who manages to fight his way out of the grasping arm of dust) dropping a couple more ravers, while Korm blasts two to the ground with an _arc of lightning_.

As soon as everyone else is in the room, Korm shuts the door and bars it. Outside, there is the momentary sound of the bison and dinosaur fighting the ravers and then silence. Nobody approaches the door, as far as anyone inside can make out.

Luna changes back into her normal form and asks, "What the bloody hell were those things?"

"I don't want to know," says Six, feeling dents and cracks in his plating, as he produces a wand to repair them. "As long as we don't need to deal with them again." The sentiment is clearly shared by the others.

While they heal themselves, the adventurers search and strip the two bodies, taking everything valuable off them. Nameless carefully places the Key back in his _bag of holding_ and hangs it on his belt. 

As they leave, Cedric looks back at the corpses as they leave the building but doesn't say anything about them. On the way back, he says, "Would you guys mind if I took two hundred galifars from what you found?"

Surprised, Nameless says, "You get a full share, just as each of us does."

Cedric smiles and waves a hand. "Thanks, but that's all right. Two hundred will do."

***
Surr'kal and Dala are still waiting when the group returns to Trillia's, and Nameless provides them a fairly detailed coverage of what happened, with the others inserting comments as needed. When they refer to the strange people they fought, Dala exclaims, "You fought ravers?"

"You know them?"

"Only by reputation. I've heard that they're a strange group that dwell in the central ruins, among the remnants of the Glass Tower. Some people think they're a cult and others think they're something released from the Depths when the tower fell. There are rumors that they have strange powers - which your encounter confirms - and that they sometimes carry off people from Fallen, but nobody really knows for sure."

"Whatever they are," says Nameless, "There's a dozen less of them now."

The conversation then turns to the Key and what is to be done with it after its recovery. Gareth and Nameless embark on one of their patented arguments about how to keep it safe and especially whether to involve the Church of the Silver Flame. 

"The Key just isn't safe on you," argues Gareth. "If four muggers can get it off Six and you, then whoever killed Arrok shouldn't have a hard time at all."

"Be that as it may," responds Nameless, "I am not going to hand it over to the Church."

Gareth argues that he should at least be allowed to speak to the Archierophant about it, suggesting that he broach the topic without giving her any details, and if she promises not to mention it to her superiors, then they can tell her about it and see if she can help. 

Cedric, who knows the least about the Key of anyone in the room but is gradually learning more, speaks up from his seat in the corner. "You guys know I don't see eye to eye with Ythana Morr, but I'll admit that she's about as influential as any members of the Church in Breland, so I don't think you'll have to worry about her having to answer to anyone about that Key. On the other hand, she takes her responsibilities damn seriously and if she figures the Key isn't safe with you, she may try to pull rank on Gareth to have it handed over to her for safekeeping. Anyway, it's your call." 

The comment doesn't really help much, with the argument continuing and branching off onto the question of what one is to do with the Key after all. Nameless is momentarily stumped when Gareth asks what his eventual plans for the Key is, but then replies, "To either bury it in a place where nobody will ever find it, or hand it over to the Gatekeepers."

"Okay, but what about the damn tattoos?" asks Luna. "As long as they're around, we've got to stay close to the bloody thing, and I do NOT like that situation. Why don't you try to remove ours again?"

"Did you see what happened last time?" says Nameless. "We almost killed Corven and Korm." Korm doesn't say anything, simply scratching reflexively at the tattoo on his chest.

Surr'kal adds, "I'm hoping that Gurr'khan will be here soon. He should leave as soon as he gets the message, which should be within a week's time. Once he's here and we let him know what the situation is, he can contact people in the Shadow Marches and the Eldeen Reaches. He's the only one of our people in Breland powerful enough to do so."

"All right - but what do we do for that week?" asks Gareth.

"Wait and travel in larger groups," says Nameless.

"That we should, but I don't want to wait that long," responds Gareth.

Surr'kal persists, "You might be able to learn more from one of our loremasters, but they are only found in the Marches and the Reaches. Would you consider traveling there, if needed?"

"Get out of this city? Hell yeah!" says Luna. Beside her, Korm nods and adds, "I know much of the Marches and some areas in the Reaches. I'd be happy to guide you there, if needed."

The discussion continues for a while, with the eventual decision that long-term decisions will be made after Gurr'khan's arrival. In the short term, Gareth (who remains obdurate about the Key not being safe with them) will speak to the Archierophant that evening and arrange a meeting with the entire group the next morning. They also decide that from now on, Korm, Luna and Six will accompany Nameless to and from Trillia's whenever he travels in the city. 

Dala, Surr'kal and Cedric all take their leave, asking the Angels to keep them posted on events. Gareth asks Cedric if he wishes to come along the next day when they speak to the Archierophant, but he declines. He also reminds the group before he goes that they have two prisoners to dispose of. 

Nameless says, "Well, I was thinking of cutting off that Jayson guy's tongue..."

Cedric lifts an eyebrow. "That's a little drastic."

"Well," says Nameless, "It seems singularly fitting for one of the bardic persuasion."

"You want to turn him into a mime? Now that's just evil!"

Nameless chuckles and says, "Well, we could remove tongue and limbs, in which case..."

"Not a good idea. I know they pissed you off - a lot, but always remember, you're better than them. So play nice."

_Not necessarily_, thinks Nameless, but he doesn't argue. Once Cedric leaves, he asks Trillia if she is willing to keep the prisoners there for a day or two until he can decide what to do with them. Trillia points at the living room, now much dirtier than before the large group of people occupied it. "Sure - why not? It's not like it'll be any extra trouble."

"Speaking of which," says Nameless, turning to address Luna, Korm and Gareth, "Would you be interested in accompanying Trillia, Six and me to explore a Dhakaani ruin and fight aberrations?"

"Like I said before," replies Luna, "If it's outside the city I'm in. As long as I can flame strike things without people complaining." Korm says, "Yes, I would. I wish to see Yarkuun Draal too." Gareth agrees too.

Nameless turns back to Trillia and says, "Consider that thanks for all the trouble."

His mentor grins and says, "And here I thought you were coming along because you wanted to wrestle another daelkyr. Deal."

"There's a daelkyr there?" asks Gareth.

"Not necessarily, but with the number of aberrations we saw the last time I was there, one either has a lair nearby or some of its minions creating more."

"Wait a minute - I thought the daelkyr were bound away, like the one we encountered."

Trillia then proceeds to give Gareth and the others (other than Nameless, who already knows this) a quick coverage of the situation with the daelkyr. She explains that unlike the rakshasa rajahs - the progenitors of the Lords of Dust - bound away at the end of the Age of Demons, who are imprisoned within huge Khyber dragonshards, the daelkyr that remained in Khorvaire are not so constrained. They are bound within Khyber, unable to breach the surface of the world even if a physical opening is made to them, as long as the dimensional seals and binding of the Gatekeepers remains in effect. But within Khyber they are free to move around and are believed to have carved lairs and domains for themselves there. The one that the Angels encountered in Xen'drik is quite anomalous in actually being bound within a dimensional seal, which may also explain why it was significantly weakened when they encountered it.

After she is done, Korm and Luna leave for Carosten Park, while Gareth leaves to visit the Cathedral. There he obtains an interview with Ythana Morr, and asks her for a meeting the next day with his entire group. When she agrees and asks what they wish to speak to her about, he says that he cannot tell her anything right now, since it is a particularly discreet matter. Ythana looks curious but simply says that she'll look forward to meeting them then, and Gareth departs. 

***
Meanwhile, in Coldflame Keep...

Mazin Tana looks up as Cedric walks in. "What happened? You look like something the cat refused to drag in."

Cedric chuckles. "Yes, Mazin - you look pretty too." Then he stretches and yawns, "I'm just tired. It's been a bloody long night - and day."

"Something to do with Gareth? He was in a great hurry when you left last night."

"Yes. Can't discuss most of it with you, I'm afraid, because it's private to him and his friends. Let's just say they've been getting into trouble, and from what I've heard, are liable to get into some more." Cedric beckons for Mazin to follow him. "For example..."

A curious Mazin follows him out into one of the emptier chambers, where he finds four husky-looking men standing around a large cart covered by a cloth. Cedric walks up to it and lifts the cover, to reveal over a dozen corpses. Most of them are twisted and malformed, except for two, of a dwarven woman and a human male. All of them seem to have been slain violently.

"By the Flame!"

"Don't worry," reassures Cedric. "They earned it - unfortunately. Still, we need to give them a proper cremation."

"Yes, yes, of course," says a still shocked Mazin. "Did he ... they ... I mean, did Gareth and his companions ..."

"And I," says Cedric quietly. "There was little choice in the matter. I'll tell you about it later. I'd have been back earlier, but Gareth and the others weren't really interested in disposing of them once they were done, so I had to go back down to Fallen and get the bodies."

"So they killed some people and just left the corpses lying there?" asks Mazin, a tinge of surprise in his tone.

"Adventurers," says Cedric succinctly.

"But Gareth?" persists Mazin, "He should know better."

"Yeah. And I should be sober. What are you gonna do?" Cedric takes a look at Mazin's face and adds, more reassuringly, "Don't worry. He's got potential. He'll learn." _And if he doesn't, well ... he won't be the first._ 

Mazin doesn't reply, and after a few seconds Cedric says, "Um, Mazin? You know ... arrangements?"

"Yes, yes," says the elderly priest. "I'll go take care of it." As he heads for the door, a call of "Hold on," stops him and he awkwardly catches the jingling bag tossed in his direction. "What is this?"

"A hundred and ninety-nine galifars. Use what you need for the cremation and use the rest for this place."

"Oh! Thank you, Cedric." Mazin's brow contracts. "One hundred and ninety-nine?"

Cedric grins and opens his backpack to show a couple of bottles inside. "Let's just say the cost of good hooch in this place is criminal!"

Mazin smiles and leaves, still looking faintly concerned. Once he's gone, Cedric kneels beside the cart and begins to pray for the departed souls of the slain.


----------



## Gold Roger

Love your version of the ravers.

Did you use flavored descriptions of spellcasting on that one or something more funky. If the first, what class did you use (Personaly I love alternate flavor on the spellcasting of sorcerers and clerics and use it whenever possible).


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## shilsen

Gold Roger said:
			
		

> Love your version of the ravers.
> 
> Did you use flavored descriptions of spellcasting on that one or something more funky. If the first, what class did you use (Personaly I love alternate flavor on the spellcasting of sorcerers and clerics and use it whenever possible).



 I'm a big fan of changing the flavor too, and that's all it was. Mechanically they were actually just a bunch of 2nd lvl humans, the ranged attackers being 2nd lvl Warlocks and the guys who got up close being Barbarian1/Fighter1s. 

I was thinking about them lairing in the remnants of the Glass Tower and figured I'd depict their abilities as glass-focused. If I hadn't changed the flavor, it would have been just another random encounter. Instead, the PCs and the players (who are all more experienced than me) were significantly confused and on tenterhooks, since they weren't sure what they were dealing with, even when they worked out that the enemies weren't too tough. 

Color me a happy DM


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## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> ...even when they worked out that the enemies weren't too tough.




Er yeah. They were taking 25+ points of damage a piece, the ones with the big glass shards were dealing out 20-30 pts of damage a shot and there was a dozen+ of the SOBs. Not too tough, right. Sure. Pushovers.


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## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> since they weren't sure what they were dealing with, even when they worked out that the enemies weren't too tough.
> 
> Color me a happy DM




Yea, and let it be know that *I* was the one who said "lets stay and fight". The paladin who has been accused of being a coward was the one who said "Come on guys don't run"...from the level 2's


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## Rackhir

AviLazar said:
			
		

> Yea, and let it be know that *I* was the one who said "lets stay and fight". The paladin who has been accused of being a coward was the one who said "Come on guys don't run"...from the level 2's




You know wanting to stay and fight the CR2s, we had no reason to fight and weren't going to be getting any treasure or XP from, isn't helping your case...


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## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Er yeah. They were taking 25+ points of damage a piece, the ones with the big glass shards were dealing out 20-30 pts of damage a shot and there was a dozen+ of the SOBs. Not too tough, right. Sure. Pushovers.



 Au contraire, mon alienist! The warlocks only had 14 hp and the barbarians 26 hp. The former were doing 1d6+1 damage and the latter 1d12+11 (effectively full PA with a greataxe). There were 12 of them (six each). 

Come on, give a poor old DM credit for making what should have been a boring, pushover combat interesting


----------



## shilsen

The next day, Gareth, Korm and Luna arrive at Trillia's in the morning to meet Nameless and Six. With them they bring a copy of the Korranberg Chronicle, checking which has become a group ritual for the Angels. 

This edition reports that the problem of the aberrations in the Mror Holds is diminishing, with the dwarven clans having wiped out the majority, albeit with substantial loss of lives and property. There is a story about an explosion in Regalport and an undead attack, probably connected to the necromancer who won the spell battle reported a couple days ago. Silver Flame investigators checking on horrid lycanthropes in western Aundair say that they may be entering from Droaam, rather than the Eldeen Reaches, as originally suspected. Some alarmists say that this may lead to another crusade against lycanthropes, but most agree that it is highly unlikely, partly because there are not enough lycanthropes in existence and partly because the Church's connection with Thrane makes such an act in the wake of the Last War a hugely political event. More news from Droaam says that giant cockatrices have appeared in the mountains and have been attacking travelers, resulting in Houses Orien and Lyrandar announcing high fees for adventurers willing to guard their caravans and airships. Closer to home, the Ir'Tains of Sharn are supposedly planning to commission a huge elemental galleon from House Lyrandar. Across the border in Zilargo, the bard Brodden Dendle has put on a very successful 1-man show called "The Truth about Merrix" in Trolanport. 

While reading and discussing the paper, the Angels receive another message from Captain Talleon. It says that on the 19th, Ras will be visiting the Lava Pit, a restaurant in the Cogs below Tavick's Landing, and then entering Khyber's Gate to visit one of the Shadow Markets there. The Angels are to reach the Lava Pit just before 7 pm, stay for dinner, leave when Ras does, follow him to Khyber's Gate and throughout his time there, and then guard him back up to the surface, where they will leave him. The customary secret portion of the message says that the one additional aspect of the job is to tail Ras back to the Citadel. It also mentions that Talleon will stop by Carosten Park in the evening to meet the group.

Having digested that information, the group heads to the Cathedral, making a stop at the Augury first. There, they find Kestia expecting them. She checks if their search for the lost items was successful and then proceeds to tell them what she has discovered.

"I began with an _augury_, as I normally do," she says, "Asking about using a _divination_ to find Arrok's killer. The response was 'weal and woe', which doesn't say much, but it's both better than simply 'woe' and indicative that there might be some use in a _divination_. Which I then proceeded to do, to no avail. It was as if something was blocking my magic."

"So it just didn't work?" asks Nameless.

"At that point. But I've experience with such things and protective magic before. They are rarely usable beyond a certain period of time and can also be worked around. So I tried _divination_s at various points in the day, varying the time and question. Eventually, on my fourth try, I got an answer. The question I asked was 'How do we find Arrok's murderer?' The response was 'Dust stirs in Tyrial Dashar's lair, where the circle was broken and may be again'. Does that mean anything to any of you?"

Luna looks around at the others and says, "Wasn't there something about dust in Flamewind's prophecy?"

"Yes," says Nameless. "I wonder if it has anything to do with the Lords of Dust that Trillia mentioned."

Kestia says, "I see you are well informed about these matters. I did wonder about that too. As for Tyrial Dashar, that is a more local reference, which you may not know. He was reputed to be a powerful conjuror, who disappeared nearly four hundred years ago. It was shortly before the Esoteric Order and the Guild of Starlight and Shadows destroyed the Closed Circle (which he belonged to). Whether his disappearance had anything to do with that event is unknown. He was reputed to have had a secret lair somewhere in the city, I would presume in UnderSharn, but that's just a supposition."

"Well," she says, "That is what I have found. Obviously, no more _divination_s on the subject will help. The next option with be a _contact other_ plane, but as we've discussed, that is better used when you have more information."

Nameless thanks Kestia and asks if any further payment is required. The magewright says it isn't necessary, asking only that the Angels keep her informed of what they find, since this case has piqued her curiosity. Nameless says he will do so and the Angels leave.

***
An hour later, all of them are sitting in a comfortable meeting room facing Ythana Morr. After she greets them and asks what it is that they wished to speak to her about, Gareth embarks on an explanation that whatever they tell her cannot be shared with anyone else, including anyone in the Church hierarchy, clearly implying (without actually saying so) that he would appreciate a promise of such from her.

Ythana looks at him for a long moment and then asks, "Does this involve something that would be a danger to the Church? Or the common people of Sharn?"

"Actually," puts in Nameless, "It's something that's a danger to anything and everything."

"And you wish me to keep something like that secret? Why?"

"Because revealing it may actually increase the danger. Substantially."

Ythana considers for a moment and says, "What if it seems to me that in order to aid you in dealing with this matter I need to inform people I trust?"

"No!" says Gareth, a little more abruptly than he'd intended, drawing a very cool look from her. He quickly adds, "Though I trust you completely, Archierophant, we cannot be sure of others whom we don't know."

Ythana's gaze doesn't shift for a while and then she says dryly, "And I make allowances for you because I trust you, as a worshipper of the Flame and a paladin." A faint flicker of humor crosses her face. "Even if you are a paladin who thinks he might be a fiend."

This comment leads to a minor digression, with Gareth and Nameless talking about the encounter with the daelkyr. When Nameless says, "Maybe the daelkyr was talking about your sword rather than you," Ythana looks slightly more amused. Her tone, however, is as dry as ever. "So now your sword is a fiend."

Before Gareth can reply, she lifts a hand and says, "Let us return to our primary subject." Instead of looking at Gareth, she looks around the table at the others and says, "Can I assume that Gareth's lack of trust for anyone I speak to is shared by ... or perhaps based on ... the rest of you?"

Nameless replies, "Yes. I do not trust you."

This time, the Archierophant's tone is glacial. "You do not trust _me_?" Her gaze is at least as cold.

Nameless holds her gaze for a moment and then clarifies, "Rather, I don't trust the Church. With your track record, I'm sure you can understand why."

Gareth quickly adds, "Nameless has certain prejudices about the Church and..."

"Yes," says Ythana Morr calmly, very mild disappointment in her tone. "Many people do, judging the whole due to the failings of a small part. But that is not my problem." She lowers her head and there is a long pause before she looks up and says, "Very well. Tell me what you have to. I will not share the information."

Gareth then proceeds to explain the details about and situation of the Key, with Nameless adding in as needed. Ythana asks a question or two to clarify matters but mostly just listens.

Finally, she asks, "And you believe that this Key is capable of that kind of destruction?"

Gareth and Nameless for once agree that they aren't sure whether the Key itself can cause such destruction or whether it was a product (or perhaps by-product, partly caused by the nature of the island) of the Key's interaction with the dimensional seal.

Ythana listens and then says, "So how do you wish me to help you?"

"I don't think the Key is safe with us, so I'd feel better if it was somewhere with greater security, like this Cathedral. The only problem is that you couldn't let them know what they are guarding. Or actually even that they are guarding something, since that would attract attention."

Luna, who's been quite obviously fidgeting through the discussion, snorts and says, "Yeah, right! Like that would make the thing any more secure than with us!"

Ythana says, "I see your companion doesn't think much of your plan, Gareth."

"Neither do I," says Nameless. "I'm only here because Gareth insisted. As I've said, I don't think your Church can help us. And there's too much corruption there for me to trust them."

Ythana's tone goes colder again. "I think you will find corruption in every organization. And if you mistrust an entire group because of a few who are unworthy, where will you go for aid?"

"To the Gatekeepers." As Nameless says this, Korm leans forward on the table and nods, but doesn't say anything. 

"The Gatekeepers? I am not an expert, but I believe their resources are seriously limited."

"Perhaps," says Nameless, "But this is an area of expertise for them. They're more focused on fighting such dangers than anyone else."

The expression on the Archierophant's face indicates that, if it weren't clearly inconceivable that she should do snort like Luna, she would do so. "The Church of the Silver Flame has been fighting supernatural evil from its inception. Every day, we stand between the common people of Khorvaire and dangers that even you, with your knowledge, have no conception of."

_You'd be surprised!_ thinks Nameless, but doesn't say it aloud. All he says is, "Anyway, I am _not_ handing the Key over to the Church." 

This comment promptly starts a yelling match between Gareth and Nameless. After watching silently for a minute or two, Ythana Morr raises her voice slightly and cuts across them. "This argument is pointless. The choice is yours, whether to bestow the item with the Cathedral or not. I will, as I have before," she adds pointedly, "Aid you however I can."

"Think you could help get these damn tattoos off us?" asks Luna.

"From what you have described, it might be a _geas_ or _quest_ enchantment. It is a form of curse and I can attempt to remove it, if you wish."

"Curse is right! And I wish, all right."

"Very well." Ythana casts a _detect magic_, which she uses to scan the group (and then the Key, which Nameless lets her handle at her request). She then touches Luna's tattoo and performs a _remove curse_, to no avail.

"Great!" says Luna, clearly disappointed. "Thanks anyway."

After a little more discussion, the Archierophant ends the meeting. "Remember," she says as they go, "I am willing to aid you as I can." With a look at Nameless, she says, "But that aid is limited by the amount of your trust." Nameless doesn't respond.

Once they leave, Gareth and Nameless begin their usual arguments, with Gareth arguing that it isn't Nameless' decision what to do with the Key but something that is up to a group decision, while Nameless is adamant that he's not giving the Key to the Church of the Silver Flame. With nothing resolved, they eventually end the argument when it's clear that none of the others are waiting around to hear them fight.

***
A few hours later, Talleon (in his halfling guise) stops by Carosten Park. He checks about exactly what happened with the mugging and comments that it wasn't a good idea to have Korm going to the Citadel, since that might make Ras suspicious about their interaction with him.

Nameless points out, "Since the muggers left a note referring to our guarding Tars, it makes sense for us to have contacted you."

Talleon says, "Yes, that makes it a lot more plausible, which is why I'm not canceling the job, which I'd considered. Do you think that Ras knows that you have been spying on him?"

The Angels look at each other and shrug, and Nameless says, "It's likely. The blue-eyed man very likely knows Luna followed him. We did warn you that stealth and subterfuge isn't our specialty." 

"Yes, you did," agrees Talleon, not seeming concerned about it. "And you've done well so far. Hopefully your trip to the Cogs tomorrow will be helpful too. I would guess that you'll only need one more such job to wrap up this operation."

After checking if anyone has any questions, Talleon leaves, but not before saying that he will have his men collect the two muggers from Trillia's house. "I'm sure we'll be able to extract a little more information than they think they have," he says ominously, as he goes.

As they watch him leave, Korm unconsciously runs a hand over the hilt of his sword. "Gnomes!" he mutters. "Dolgrims and dolgaunts, gibbering mouthers and mindflayers - those, I can handle. But these gnomes are just creepy!"

*Handled over email between sessions:*

*Shil:*
Talleon leaving you guys occurs on the evening of the 18th. The next thing which you have planned is on the evening of the 19th, when you're supposed to be at the restaurant (the Lava Pit) in the Cogs when Raskalorn will be there and then follow Ras to Khyber's Gate, where he's visiting one of the underground markets, and back to the surface. Anything you do before that?

*Rackhir:*


> "At that point. But I've experience with such things and protective magic before. They are rarely usable beyond a certain period of time and can also be worked around. So I tried divinations at various points in the day, varying the time and question. Eventually, on my fourth try, I got an answer. The question I asked was 'How do we find Arrok's murderer?' The response was 'Dust stirs in Tyrial Dashar's lair, where the circle was broken and may be again'.




It's probably worth bouncing this bit of info off of our other contacts like Flamewind, Havakhad and possibly even Talleon or the Blackened Book Guy. We should also check with the mage guilds. 

Does Trillia know anything about him?

*Shil:* 
You use the evening of the 18th and the morning of the 19th to do some checking with various sources. Here's what they say:

Trillia - "I'd done some checking on the Closed Circle when I first became interested in Xoriat, since they were supposedly quite strongly focused on the lore of the daelkyr and that of the Dragon Below. So strongly focused, in fact, that they scared both the Esoteric Order and the Guild of Starlight & Shadow into working together to eliminate them. Unfortunately, it seems that whatever lore about the Closed Circle was recovered (or previously existed) was then destroyed by mutual agreement of the two mage guilds. I'm quite sure some of the individual members, especially those involved in the destruction, might have kept titbits to themselves, but they never shared it openly enough for me to find any contacts. As for Tyrial Dashar, I've heard the name, but I can't remember anything besides him being one of their more powerful members and the fact that his mysterious disappearance was never solved."

Guild of Starlight & Shadow - The resident loremaster-cum-glorified-clerk who handles the library says that he doesn't really know much about the Closed Circle and points Nameless to a few old documents about the history of the Guild. Nameless finds a few references to the destruction of the Closed Circle. Though they provide little detail, they do confirm that the citadel of the Closed Circle was sealed physically and magically and that it was in the undercity of Sharn. In one of the older documents, Nameless catches an interesting titbit that isn't common knowledge. The Order and the Guild did not work alone against the Circle. They were apparently provided substantial aid by the Church of the Silver Flame, whose aid conclusively swung the fight against the Close Circle. Templars of the Church participated in the final attack and the sealing of the Circle's citadel. Tyrial Dashar is mentioned a few times in the old documents, but apparently was never involved in the last battles, having disappeared before that. He is described as a powerful conjuror, who specialized in binding magic. He was also apparently one of the more benevolent members of the Circle, having a workshop somewhere in the undercity not to hide from prying eyes but to avoid endangering Sharn with his experiments. Or so he claimed.

Esoteric Order - None of you is a member, so you can't get at their records.

Flamewind - Flamewind isn't present when you try to meet her.

Warden Balan Cord - "I've only heard of the Closed Circle as a bit of a legend and a supposed example of the madness of mages. And the disappearance of Tyrial Dashar is just one in the long list of unsolved magical mysteries out there. Maybe something he summoned ate him. It was 350 years ago, so let's just say that it's not something we're concerned with now. As for your friend Arrok, unfortunately, there's no good news there. We've done some magical checking but our divinations haven't come up with anything. Unless we have some kind of a break, that case is at a dead end. Nameless, of course, is clearly innocent and there are no worries on that score."

Havakhad - "The Closed Circle is something that I have heard of in passing, but I know nothing about it or this Tyrial Dashar. The kalashtar do what we can to protect Sharn from magical threats, but the Circle has been gone for centuries and has never been a concern for us. I unfortunately cannot tell you who murdered your companion, but I can tell you who did not. The quori were not involved. Without something more specific that I can use my abilities on (such as a murder weapon), I cannot be of much use, but the presence or taint of the quori is something I can always sense. And I have communed with my spirit and those of my people. They confirm that there is no sign of quori involvement in the matter of your dreams, and if they had been involved with the death of your companion, it would have registered too. Still, I will consider the matter of this murder and see if I can learn anything. As for the question of danger, I think you for the warning, but that is part the kalashtar life, though most around us do not know. And I am too old a man to worry about it. If the Lords of Dust are involved, then there is truly danger, though it is unlikely to be simple violence or what seems to be obvious. I have not faced them, though my people have, and they are subtle and patient. I will see if I can help in any way."


----------



## shilsen

*A Blast from the Past*

On the evening of the 19th, the Angels meet at Trillia's and then head down to Cogsgate in Lower Tavick's. As on their previous visit here, they find the district full of teamsters and laborers traveling to and from the warehouses and storage towers that fill it. Series of carts pass by, carrying ore brought from Zilargo or Karrnath, heading towards the access tunnels to the Blackbones Cogs below. 

As the group nears one of the access tunnels, someone shouts from behind them, "Edgar! Hey, Edgar!" 

They turn around to see a young man dressed in workman's clothes, hurrying towards them. As he reaches them, he pauses for a moment, stares into Nameless' face, and then hurtles forward and grabs him in a bear-hug. "Son of a bitch! Edgar, you bum - I thought you were dead!"

The young man's eyes then go wide as he finds a couple of swords at his throat. Nameless quickly disengages himself and then, when it's clear there's no danger, says, "You know Edgar? That's fascinating." He then proceeds to pull Edgar out of his pocket.

Once certain that he's not about to be butchered, the man looks first relieved and then puzzledly at Nameless. "What do you mean? Edgar - it's me, Kitan. I thought you got killed in the Mourning. How did you get out? Where have you been? Were you in Sharn ever since?"

Nameless, who has absolutely no memory of the person, explains patiently, "No - I am Nameless. _This_ is Edgar." Which, unsurprisingly, confuses the man a lot.

Over the next few minutes, the stranger explains that he is called Kitan and is from the village of Arjon Ford in Cyre, where he was the neighbor and good friend to Edgar Thorn. Edgar had possessed a little proficiency with magic and had joined the Cyran military in 991 YK, and the last time Kitan saw him was on a short trip back home in 993. Kitan had assumed he'd been killed on the Day of Mourning, which Kitan had only survived due to being in Northern Breland at the time. He'd come to Sharn and been here ever since, working for a furniture maker in High Walls. Kitan says that he's absolutely sure that Nameless is Edgar, though his eyes look a little funny.

Nameless explains that he has no memory of what Kitan says and adds that he's an amnesiac. 

"Did Edgar have a thing for eating tentacles?" asks Gareth.

"Huh?! I don't remember anything about him and tentacles." Kitan smiles, his eyes unfocusing slightly at a memory. "Though one of the Tilon twins did once say something about his tentacle after a date. I think she was kidding." He adds, "Edgar and I and a couple of our friends used to go down to the tavern and get drunk and then chase the local girls, especially the twins."

As he is speaking, Nameless has a fleeting visual memory of sitting across a table from a younger-looking Kitan, with mugs of ale on it and a couple more young men sharing the table and laughing with them.

Gareth, having heard Kitan's little anecdote, shakes his head and says, "Drinks and women? Oh yeah - you've _definitely_ got the wrong guy!"

"Really?" Kitan scratches his head and asks, "Do you have a birthmark like an arrowhead on your left shoulder blade?"

Nameless looks at the others. "Do I?"

"Yes!"

"See?" shouts Kitan in excitement, "I knew it was you!" Nameless continues to look unconvinced, not mentioning the little flash of memory he had. 

After a little more conversation, Kitan says that he has to go but wants to know if he can come and speak to Nameless and the others another day. 

"Definitely!" says Six, "I would be interested to hear more about this over a drink with you." After a moment, he amends, "And watch you have a drink."

Naturally, the others are also interested in this unexpected visitation from Nameless' past, and they tell Kitan that he can find them at Carosten Park. He says he'll be able to do so in a couple of days and leaves.

As they continue onwards, Luna looks at Nameless and says, "Shouldn't you be a little more excited about that?" Nameless simply shrugs and makes no comment. 

The Angels proceed to the closest access shaft and head down. When they reach Blackbones, they follow the directions from Talleon's letter until they eventually reach the Lava Pit. It is a large building set into the wall of a cavern.

The entrance area has a lurid red light shining into it from the main chamber beyond. Unlike in the other places that the Angels have recently been, there are no comments made about their weapons, though they do draw a few looks from both the staff and the clientele. Inside, the restaurant is shaped like an amphitheater, with tables around a huge hole in the floor, which  overlooks a gigantic abandoned forge. A huge stream of molten lava flows through it, producing the red light that suffuses the place. While the restaurant is no more than adequately appointed, it seems quite upper-class in comparison to the area beyond. It also has quite a wide-ranging menu, with the focus being on spicy barbecued meats from the Shadow Marches. 

Shortly after the Angels arrive, Ras arrives too, in his regular disguise as Tars. He goes to a table across the room, which is occupied by the only person besides Gareth in full-plate, a hobgoblin wearing spiky and traditional Dhakaani armor. A shield the size of a small door leans against the wall near him and a flail hangs off the back off his chair. An unarmored goblin in nondescript robes shares the table. They both wave Ras over and he joins them.

Once they are done ordering, Nameless heads to the lavatory and casts a couple of protective spells on himself. Korm, meanwhile, heads for the kitchen, where he startles the cook. Having decided that his cleaver doesn't look that impressive in comparison to the sword Korm is carrying, the cook stops in mid-shout and asks what he wants. 

"I just wanted to make sure that it's really spicy. Give me the real deal. Not the water-down stuff you give the Brelish."

"You from the Marches?"

"Yes."

"Ah - in that case...." The cook picks up the chunk of meat he was sprinkling with spices and dips it into three boxes of spices in turn. "Think that'll do?"

"Excellent!" Korm turns around and head back to the table.

The meal turns out to be quite good and Korm's meat is "authentically Marcher steak", as the big orc confirms happily with streaming eyes. The group makes sure to finish just as Ras and his companions are, and leave the Lava Pit a few seconds after them.

The three make their way through Blackbones and head into the boundary area that separates Blackbones (and Ashblack) from the lawless area of Khyber's Gate. In order to make following them easier, Luna transforms into a dog and stays a little distance behind them, while the rest of the group follows a little distance behind.

Eventually the group emerges into Khyber's Gate. Though this area is new to them, it looks exactly as the other parts they have seen do, consisting of a maze of passages with shops and dwellings carved out of the walls. Though the air is less hot than in Blackbones, it is as smoky and also has a constant mild smell of garbage. Korm, seeing this area for the first time, doesn't hide his distaste for these conditions, so far from the more open and natural surroundings he is used to.

As the group moves along, they pass a trio of armed gnolls, most likely members of Daask. They spare a look at the adventurers, as just about all the denizens of the area do, but show no signs of recognition. Gareth, with a large cloak wrapped around himself and  knowing that he is the most conspicuous of the group, breathes a quiet sigh of relief as they pass by.

Shortly afterwards, they enter a large cavern which contains a bazaar-like area. The 'shops' consist of tables, trays or just piled-up rocks holding all sorts of wares. A few do resemble shops, mostly consisting of a tent with a table before it or a few poles with cloth hung on them to make a structure. All sorts of things are being sold, from food to clothes to weapons to junk. There is just as much variety in the merchants, which includes many goblinoids. The customers are also of many races. A couple of people seem too well-dressed to be from Khyber's Gate, both of whom have a pair of attendant bodyguards. Just about everyone in sight is carrying a weapon openly. 

Ras and the other two move through the market, stopping here and there for a moment but not buying anything, until they come to a small shop. This consists of a tent with a table in front, which holds a variety of weapons and armor, which is staffed by a pair of armed gnolls. Ras speaks to them and is then let into the tent. There is a quick glimpse of two men inside as he enters, but none of the Angels recognize them. 

The adventurers move around the area for the next ten minutes, till Ras emerges. As they are about to follow him out of the area, they are stopped by half a dozen impoverished-looking goblins.

"How much dat doggie cost?" asks one. 

As Nameless corrects his grammar, another one says, "Yeah - looks like good meat on it."

Gareth chortles at the comment, while Korm hurriedly whispers, "No _flame strike_s, Luna!"

With a deadpan expression, Nameless says, "You wouldn't want it. Too old and tough."

Luna turns to gaze balefully at her companion, causing both Six and Korm to step away from Nameless. Then, with a warning growl, she turns away and heads towards the exit. Which causes a salivating goblin to heft a rock and say, "Hey - doggie running off. You wants me to stop it?”

"No," says Gareth hurriedly. "And it's not for sale." _Unfortunately!_

The chuckling adventurers proceed out of the area and follow Luna. She sees Ras leave his companions after a few minutes and continue on alone. He heads back to Blackbones and up to Cogsgate without incident, followed by the Angels all the way.

Once back in aboveground Sharn, Ras walks up to Middle Tavick's and stops in again at Redblade. Recalling the warning from their last visit, the Angels send in a disguised Six alone to keep an eye in him. Ras simply has a drink and talks to Redblade for a few minutes before leaving. 

He then takes a skycoach back to Middle Central, with the Angels following a fair distance behind in one. Luna, having changed into a bird once they emerged above ground, follows more closely. She sees him disembark and then head directly back towards the Citadel. As he goes, Ras is accosted at one point by a pair of men who step around a corner with weapons drawn. Luna barely stops herself from dropping a reflexive _flame strike_ on them, which turns out to be a good thing since they apparently know Ras. They shakes hands, exchange a couple of comments and laughs, and then Ras heads on. Once he reaches and enters the Citadel, Luna returns to tell the others.

The Angels then follow their usual procedure, all of them going to Trillia's and leaving Nameless and Six there, after which Gareth heads to Coldflame Keep and the two druids head to Carosten Park.


----------



## shilsen

The next day, the group receives another of Talleon's messages. This one says that Ras will be going down to the Cogs again on the 21st. This time, he'll be going to Shamukaar, where he's supposed to meet with an important contact. The adventurers are to wait at an access shaft in Cogsgate around 6 pm. When they see Ras enter, they are to follow him down and to Shamukaar, where he will be for about 30 minutes, and then follow him back to the surface when he leaves. 

The _secret page_ section says that it's very likely that there will be an attack during the trip back from Shamukaar, so the group should be prepared accordingly. If an attack does occur, they should feel free to kill the attackers. Prisoners would be a bonus but are not a major priority. The note ends by saying that this assignment should wrap up the group's work for the Citadel.

With that piece of information received, the Angels go about their business for the rest of the day. Six stops by the weaponsmith with whom he commissioned the drow version of the spiked chain. The weapon is ready for him and he finds that the smith has done a very good job of meeting the specifications Six provided. While he is testing out the weapon, Six checks with the smith about places in Sharn where he can get it enchanted.

"Well," says the man, "You've got a few options. There's the Mithral Blade in Clifftop and Ancient Blades in Deathsgate that specialize in magical weapons. They mainly cater to the adventurers there. Some of those mage guys at the guilds will also do it, and the Cannith joints also do some."

Six visits the two weapon shops in turn and finds that each has a large selection of magical weapons. They are apparently willing to enchant weapons as well, though he currently can't afford it.  Six also asks if any of the artificers working at the shops are interested in working for and traveling with the Angels. The response is a combination of amusement and polite rejection. One of the artificers suggests that Six try the adventurers guilds or the mage guilds, adding that while he's much more likely to find people willing to risk their lives at the former, the latter will probably provide more skilled artificers.

When they meet later, Six mentions his idea of hiring an artificer to Nameless. The alienist says that he can check at the Guild of Starlight and Shadows to see whether anyone is interested. Trillia is actually at the Guild right then, to dispose of the extra equipment recovered from the muggers, which the Angels had given her in thanks for her help and hospitality. When she returns, Nameless mentions Six's interest in hiring an artificer. Trillia says that she hasn't had any real interaction with the few artificers that belong to the Guild, so she can't recommend anyone in particular. She does mention having heard of a skilled warforged artificer who has just joined the Esoteric Order, who might be an option to consider.

Gareth, meanwhile, visits the Deneith enclave to check on Lalia's whereabouts. He is informed that she will only be back at the end of the month and perhaps even a little later than that, since she is busy on work outside Sharn.

Korm and Luna spend the majority of the day in and around Carosten Park. At one point, when Luna is flying around the city as an eagle, Surr'kal invites Korm into his cottage. Once they are within, the older druid asks Korm, "There is something I have been meaning to ask you. Tell me - what do you think about the safety of the Key with Nameless and his companions?"

Korm considers and replies, "I believe it's as safe with them as it'd be anywhere in the city." After a slight pause, he adds, "Though they do have a remarkable ability to get into trouble."

"Yes, I'd noticed, which is why I thought I'd ask you. Especially since you've spent some time with them now and know them much better than I do. So you do not have any concerns about the Key's safety?"

Korm shrugs his massive shoulders. "I'd be as concerned wherever it was. It's reasonably safe with them, I think."

Surr'kal hesitates slightly and then says, "And what do you think of Nameless?"

"Nameless? Hmmm. He's the hardest of the lot to get a real sense of. Why'd you ask?"

"I was just wondering if you have any thoughts about his ... stability. Especially in view of his apparent aberration nature. Which I do not understand, and I do not think he does either."

"No, I don't believe he does. As for stability, he hasn't shown any signs of losing control that I've seen. You worried that he's being corrupted in some way? He has a strong will, I think, so it would take something strong to corrupt - and even more, control - him, but then anything's possible. I haven't seen any signs of it."

Surr'kal looks a little relieved and explains, "I do not think he is necessarily being corrupted by the Key, but it is a possibility. You know what proximity to things associated with the daelkyr can do." As Korm nods silently, he continues, "Gurr'khan, for example, is the strongest Gatekeeper in Breland, and is untouched in mind and spirit, but his body has been changed due to the time spent guarding the manifest zone and the Seal that he does."

"Doesn't the dimensional seal prevent such effects?"

"In theory, but often there can be some seepage. There is evidently some in his case. Anyway, I am a little relieved by your opinion of the situation. I'd have asked Luna, but she might have felt uncomfortable talking about her companion." After a moment, Surr'kal adds, "Plus I find her a trifle - unreliable."

Korm grins widely and says, "She's definitely impulsive. I see what you meant about her not liking to be told what to do or constrained in any way."

"Yes. It's a good thing she has never met any of the Greensingers."

Korm thinks of the few Greensingers that he has met and of the influence that one of the friends of the fey, the embodiments of chaos and capricious nature, could have upon Luna. "Oh gods, yes!"

***
The next evening, the group is assembled and waiting nearby when Raskalorn makes his way into one of the access tunnels in Cogsgate. Gareth and Luna, who have both purchased _hat_s _of disguise_ from the Moonlit Loom (a shop in the Clifftop Mystic Market specializing in enchanted clothing), look very different now, as does Six. The adventurers follow Ras down and then through Blackbones towards and into Khyber's Gate.

Ras heads directly towards Shamukaar, the neutral ground area of the district that the Angels had been to once before and barely emerged alive from. They find it to be exactly the same as it was on their previous visit. The building is set into the wall of a large cavern. Even from the outside it is clear that the proportions are slightly larger than for humans. 

At the door, the group is met by a strong stench of meat and blood. Inside, they find a combination slaughterhouse, butcher shop, restaurant and tavern. To the right of the large sitting and drinking/eating area that they enter into are a large pair of open doors, revealing the lip of a large pit beyond. As they are taking seats, a couple of them quietly tell Korm that the pit is the arena where they fought a pair of horrid apes on their previous visit.

As on that visit, though there are some customers from the more common races, most of the tavern is occupied by goblinoids, with some gnolls and a couple of ogres, as well as a couple of more exotic individuals. A large minotaur (which the Angels recognize as Torarg, the Daask member) is seated near the bar and talking to a pair of gnolls and a monstrous-looking humanoid with a pair of batlike wings folded behind her. Nameless takes one look and says quietly, "Harpy."  The eponymous owner of the establishment, a large half-ogre, is at the bar near Torarg, talking alternately to the Daask members and some others near him. A bugbear serves drinks at the bar, while an ogre stands behind a large table with a cleaver, cutting meat off large slabs of meat hanging from hooks in the ceiling near him. 

Ras heads directly to the bar and gets himself a drink. He evidently knows Shamukaar, Torarg and the harpy, since he greets each in turn and exchanges a few words while getting his drink. A couple of minutes after he arrives, a nondescript-looking human walks through the door and heads for a table. Ras promptly walks over to join him.

Meanwhile, a goblin server comes over to the adventurers' table. With their previous experiences here, the others settle for a drink or two, but Korm places an order of the enticingly named "spicy meat" (as opposed to "meat with soss", "meat without soss", "double meat" and the like). Not surprisingly, it turns out to be significantly poorer than what he had at The Lava Pit, but at least he's kept occupied with trying to work out what it might be. 

After about twenty minutes, Ras (who took a small package from his companion shortly after sitting down) rises, shakes hands with the man, and heads out the door. The Angels give it a minute or so and follow. Ras heads directly back towards Blackbones, following exactly the same route that he had in coming here. Once they make it out of Blackbones, the adventurers fall back a little and cast a number of protective spells, and then hurry to catch up.

About halfway back to Blackbones, a couple of the Angels hear Ras cry out, followed by the sound of a blow and someone falling. A couple of those with keener hearing detect the sounds of multiple moving feet. 

Six is the first to rush forward, unslinging his new spiked chain as he goes, unfortunately rounding the corner a second before Nameless casts _haste_ and Korm _mass lesser vigor_. In the light of the _continual flame_ rock set into his helmet, Six sees Ras lying on the ground to the right of the larger chamber that the tunnel opens into, with six figures standing around him. Four are skeletons, two slightly larger than the others, all wearing leather armor that hangs loosely on their fleshless frames. The other two are much larger and while they have flesh on their bones, it is clearly undead in nature.

"Ogre zombies! And skeletons!" yells Six as he dives past the first couple of undead and comes up with his back to a wall, his chain lashing out to crack an advancing skeleton's skull. 

As his allies follow him, they find that the undead have temporarily blocked the exit to the tunnel in their attempt to follow Six. Not for long, however, as nearly 2000 ursine pounds of wildshaped druid charges into them, shoving them out of the way and creating an opening for Gareth and Korm to follow her. 

With everyone able to join in the battle is quickly over, with the skeletons being cut down in seconds. Though the big zombies last a little longer and manage to land a bruising blow or two, they go down soon enough. 

With the enemies disposed of, Luna lumbers over to the recumbent figure of Ras and uses her ring to cast a lesser vigor on him. Nameless, who has stayed in the tunnel casting spells out of it walks forward and says, "The question is who put the undead here." 

"Good question," says Korm. He concentrates for a moment, calling on his Gatekeeper training, and feels his sense of smell improve. Raising his face he sniffs the still air in the area and says, "I don't detect anyone nearby. Luna?" The bear raises her head and shakes it.

Gareth, who has been cleaning pieces of zombie flesh off Kizmet, looks over at Six, who has moved to the one exit from the chamber. "Six?"

The big warforged takes a step back and readies his chain, as he notes the figures emerging around the corner of the tunnel he is looking into. "We've got company."


----------



## shilsen

*Enter the Gninja (or "Korm critted WHO?!")*

The enemies Six sees are all goblinoids. In the lead is a burly-looking bugbear with a gleaming greatsword. Next to the bugbear is an armored hobgoblin with a tower shield, whom Six recognizes as the one that was with Ras at the Lava Pit. The goblin who was with them is also present, along with four _mirror image_s that mimic his movements. A small glowing magical hand floats at his side. A second unarmored goblin walks beside him. The fifth member of the group is another hobgoblin in full plate, though this one carries a heavy steel shield and has no drawn weapon. A holy symbol hangs at his throat. 

Even as Six shouts a warning, the first goblin makes a gesture and speaks a string of arcane syllables, causing an invisible burst of force to explode among the Angels. The spell is still in the process of being cast as the second goblin races forward, diving past Six before he can react and coming up on the opposite side. Even as the goblin rises, it disappears from sight. A shuriken leaps from the point where it was last seen, crackling through the air to embed itself in Nameless' chest. 

Nameless staggers back and gasps, "Sharaat'khesh!", identifying it as one of the infamous goblin ninja. Shaking off the pain, the alienist does what he does best, _summon_ing three pseudonatural bison, two within the tunnel to block the goblinoids' egress and one next to the invisible ninja. The leading bison hurls forward, driving the hastily raised tower shield into the helmet of its wielder. The one near the ninja butts at an empty space and bellows its frustration as it misses.

"Keep them bottled in there!" advises Gareth as he hurries up to the tunnel, placing himself behind the bison filling it. As Korm follows, the hobgoblin in the rear drops a _dispel magic_ in the area. Not only do many of the adventurers feel a spell being stripped off them, but the three bison promptly disappear.

As soon as a space is created, the goblinoids move forward, with the tower shield-user in the lead. Gareth slices at him and is surprised as he smoothly pivots, letting Kizmet slide off his shield, and wraps his flail around the paladin's foot, almost pulling him off balance. Without pausing, the hobgoblin continues by, placing himself before Korm. The large bugbear roars a battle-cry and stops to cut at Gareth and land a deep cut on his shoulder, while the wizard and the cleric (whose symbol is now seen to be the curved blue dagger of the Keeper) also move closer.

Both Six and Luna are temporarily dazed by the effects of the goblin's first spell and this lets the enemy focus on the others. The wizard sends his _spectral hand_ shooting forward to strike Nameless in the chest. A powerful shock rocks the wounded alienist and he collapses. The cleric drops a _sound burst_ between Korm, Six and Gareth, further wounding all three.

Korm, shaking off the spell's effects, moves closer, his newly manifested ability to scent enemies letting him pinpoint the invisible ninja. The big orc quickly drops a _faerie fire_ in the area, illumining the goblin with insubstantial purple flames. 

The momentary success is one of very few for the adventurers. The attackers display an eerie combination of excellent tactics, teamwork, unexpected abilities and not inconsiderable luck. The ninja dives through the Angels to come up on the far side, snapping, "Get this off me!" to his allies. To the disgust of Korm and the others, the cleric promptly does so, allowing the ninja to disappear again and strike Luna with a shuriken she cannot dodge.

The druid in bear form growls at the pain and focuses on casting a _summon_ spell of her own. Since it takes longer than Nameless' ones do, she is a target of opportunity while casting and suffers an attack from the wizard, his _spectral hand_ now draining some of her health with a _vampiric touch_. Despite the distraction, she retains her focus.

Korm, Six and Gareth, meanwhile, are fighting the bugbear and the hobgoblin warrior. The bugbear swings powerful blows with equal force to Korm, while the hobgoblin focuses on hampering their enemies, constantly threatening to twirl their weapons out of their hands. His most deadly attack, however, is not even launched by him. Korm, just having pulled his greatsword from the clutches of his flail, sets his feet and swings back with all his strength. As the blow comes in, the hobgoblin pivots out of the way, letting Korm's unusual greatsword slide along the surface of his shield and striking Korm lightly on the shoulder to add to his momentum. Off-balance, Korm has no way to stop himself. Gareth's eyes go wide in first surprise and then pain as Korm's sword slams into his side, cracking a rib.* 

"Aaargh! What the hell?!" cries Gareth, even as Korm mutters a hurried, "Sorry!" 

The sight is almost more of a shock for Luna than the spells and shuriken hitting her, but she manages to retain her concentration and end her spell. A unicorn appears next to Nameless' recumbent form, looking around expectantly. _!_ thinks Luna, realizing that she cannot speak in bear form, _I can't order it to heal Nameless!_ Luckily, Six, Korm and Gareth all shout, "Heal him!" The bear nods vigorously to show its assent and the unicorn nods in return**, touching Nameless with its horn. Some of his wounds close immediately and his eyes open.

"Yes!" exults Korm, as Luna now comes roaring into the fight to claw and grab the bugbear, "Now summon some more of those bison and let's kill these idiots!"

The moment of hope is unfortunately short-lived. Even as he speaks, the ninja pops in and out of sight, this time sending four shuriken flying through the air. A couple knock Nameless back into unconscious before he can recover enough to cast a spell, while the others embed themselves in Luna's sides. To add injury to insult, the bugbear seizes the moment to break free as she winces as the pain.

Unable to wound the hobgoblin behind his tower shield, Six focuses on the shield itself and attacks it. Though he puts a couple of large cracks in it, the shield remains whole. Korm, however, ignoring the wizard's attempt to _grease_ his sword (which he has already had to pick up once after being disarmed by the hobgoblin), does manage to wound the hobgoblin grievously. The warrior backs away and cries to his cleric ally, "Heal me!" Even in the middle of a fight, Korm can't help commenting to Gareth, "Hey - he sounds like you!" 

Luna, already badly wounded and realizing that they need to drop the enemy spellcasters, charges the enemy wizard. Her sense of smell lets her pick him out from his _mirror image_s, but in her hurry she stumbles as she strikes at him***. Before she can recover, the ninja buries a volley of shuriken in her side and she collapses. The clearly relieved wizard steps away from her and fires three _magic missile_s past her. Nameless, having once more regained consciousness due to the unicorn's healing, slumps to the ground again!**** 

Korm shouts an orcish oath and hurls his greatsword, its enchantment sending it flying through the air at first the cleric and then the wizard. To his disgust and disappointment, both targets dodge out of the way*****. Grabbing the sword as it flies back to him, Korm rejoins Six and Gareth in their struggle, but it's a losing battle. Six is the first to go down, the fact that he hadn't been within range of the _mass lesser vigor_ making a substantial difference. A second after Six drops, Gareth manages to _smite_ the hobgoblin warrior to the ground. And then collapses on his fallen enemy as the bugbear drives his sword into the paladin's side. Before the bugbear can recover, Korm decapitates him.

Which leaves the badly wounded orc alone facing the cleric, the wizard and the now visible ninja (who has just slain the summoned unicorn). Only for a couple of seconds. The cleric raises an armored fist, which begins to glow with a dark, coruscating energy. He steps in with an anticipatory smile and touches Korm's chest. The latter immediately feels a coldness surround his heart and contract painfully, as if the cleric were physically squeezing it. Though he tries to resist, Korm is too badly wounded already and everything goes black for him.******

***
All of the adventurers other than Six open their eyes to find themselves still in the chamber. They are still badly wounded and their hands are tied behind them. Above them stand the three remaining goblinoids, the dead hobgoblin and bugbear still lying in the middle of the floor. 

Not very surprisingly, among the goblinoids stands Ras and, besides him, the blue-eyed and bearded man that the Angels had seen with him before. _I knew there was something strange going on!_ thinks Luna. _There's no way he should have stayed unconscious after I healed him._

Ras, satisfaction evident on his face, steps forward to place a sword at Nameless' throat. "So tell me," he asks, "Who paid you to spy on me?" There is a long moment of silence and then Luna says, "I'll explain." She looks at the others and says, "Leave it to me." Despite their situation, all three of her companions turn to stare at her, Nameless nearly cutting his throat in the process. _What?!_

Luckily for them, Luna never does get to try out her diplomatic abilities. As Ras turns to look at her, there is the twang of a bowstring and the sound of metal hitting flesh. Ras screams as the head of a crossbow bolt erupts from his shoulder and spins around, as do his allies.

Standing at the same entrance that the goblinoids had used is Talleon, a crossbow in his hands. Beside and behind him are six people, three of them wearing Citadel uniforms (as Talleon does), two pointing wands at the goblinoids. "I did," says Talleon conversationally, before adding to his companions, "Take them."

What follows isn't a fight so much as a massacre. The three goblinoids have used all their resources in taking down the Angels and neither Ras nor the bearded man are expecting trouble. Within seconds, the wizard and the cleric are dead, the ninja is fleeing invisibly, and Ras and the bearded man are rendered insensible.

The attackers then move up to ensure that the goblinoids are dead, to restrain the two unconscious men, and to free and heal the Angels enough that they can take care of themselves. Talleon comes up to the Angels and says, "Good work. We'll take care of things from here on out. I'll see you at the Park early tomorrow."

Since it's clear that their presence is no longer needed or desired, the Angels tend to their remaining wounds and then head back to the surface.

***
Next morning, Talleon shows up to Carosten Park. He thanks the group again for their work. Naturally, none of the Angels seems as satisfied as he does.

"So you were expecting us to get attacked there?" asks Gareth. 

"Yes," admits Talleon without the least sign of embarrassment or deception. "I counted on Raskalorn realizing that you were following him and wanting to find out who was getting you to do so. It wasn't too much of a stretch, considering what you," he indicates Nameless, "Said about your lack of stealthiness."

Nameless doesn't reply and Talleon continues, "The Cogs were a place where he'd risk an open attack as he couldn't - or wouldn't - in Sharn. Those people who attacked you were a crack mercenary group who'd recently come to Sharn from Darguun. When Ras set up the ambush one of my ... contacts informed me. I figured you'd either defeat them or at least weaken them enough for us to be able to drop them and grab Ras. He has some influential contacts so I needed to catch him red-handed. And we did."

Korm glowers at him and says, "So if we died that would be ... what? An acceptable loss?"

Talleon snorts, though it's unclear whether that's because Korm's comment is incorrect or because it goes without saying. "You risk your lives daily and I told you it would be dangerous." He shrugs and adds, "Anyway, you survived. So everybody - except Ras - wins."

"Can we get a note of thanks or some token of the work we did?" asks Gareth.

"Hah!" laughs Talleon. "I told you - the Citadel doesn't pay for services rendered. But if I can put in a good word for you in the future I will. If you do ever need to contact me for some reason, tell Warden Balan Cord." He looks at Korm and adds, "Don't fly up to the Citadel again." 

"I'll remember that." _And I'm in no hurry to meet you again._

"Then," says Talleon, "This is goodbye. For now. I'm quite impressed with your abilities and I may contact you again regarding any work I think you're especially suited for. If nothing else, you may find it helpful when you're trying to do things like identify a certain gnome."

Nobody replies and Talleon leaves. Once he is out of sight, Nameless looks around at the others. "Another job for the Citadel? Anyone for Yarkuun Draal?"

"Yes!"

* Elusive Target is a beautiful, beautiful feat. Esp. when your player is nice enough to roll and confirm a critical on his ally 
** The caster has to be the one able to command a summoned creature to do something other than fight, but I figured I'd cut the group some slack. As you can see, they needed it!
*** One of a few 1s the players rolled at crucial times
**** Strangely, though Nameless went down thrice, he never went below -10 hit pts (as Luna, Gareth and Korm did)
***** I think he rolled something like a 2 and 3 to hit, and when using an action pt, again rolled 2 and 3 on the two d6 (needed a 4). Which mimicked Six's previous use of an action pt.
****** Death Touch is a very nasty domain power


----------



## shilsen

*Time for a Road Trip*

Gareth Byron Deneith - Human Pal3/Clr2/Exorcist of the Silver Flame4
Korm'akhan - Orc Drd7/Hexer2
Luna - Shifter Drd9
Mithral 6 of 6 - Warforged Ftr4/Scout5 (retroactive level change)
Nameless - Human Wiz6/Alienist3

Shortly after Talleon leaves, an elderly orc carrying a gnarled staff steps out of the bark of a large tree near the Gatehouse. He walks up to the Angels, who recognize him as Gurr'khan, and gives them a nod. Then turning to Surr'kal, he says gruffly, "So - what's the big emergency?"

The group settles down on the lawn-like area outside the Gatehouse, and Nameless casts a _private sanctum_ spell to protect them from mundane or magical eavesdropping. Surr'kal then proceeds to explain all of the details about the adventurers' experiences with the Key. The Angels fill in with details as needed.

Gurr'khan listens quietly for the most part, other than for the odd question or comment. When Surr'kal is done, he explains that they need more information than is available to them here, and he thought that Gurr'khan could help, since he is the only Gatekeeper in Breland capable of traveling instantly to the Shadow Marches or the Eldeen Reaches. 

Gurr'khan thinks about it for a while and then asks, indicating the Angels around him, "Do you trust them with it?" 

Surr'kal looks a little surprised, whether at the bluntness or the question itself. "Umm ... I ... yes, I do trust them."

Gurr'khan says, "Good. Then I'll respect your judgement and not take it from them," with no trace of humor. He then adds, "I am no loremaster, but I can think of a couple of people who might know more about this - or at least tell me of someone who might. Saala Torrn in the Marches. And Koruun, in the Reaches." 

Korm, who is meeting the older Gatekeeper for the first time and has been watching him carefully, says, "I know of Koruun. And I've met Saala once. She is a wise woman."

"Yes," says Gurr'khan, and continues, "I'll stay here tonight and leave tomorrow. I would have gone traveling sooner or later, and this is as good an excuse as any other. It'll take me a week or so to meet and speak to both and then return, I think. I can't take you all with me, and that's not necessary right now anyway."

"I can _teleport_ us up to 900 miles, if needed," says Nameless. 

"That wouldn't even get us to the Marches, but it'll be a helpful option for the future. I think you may have to do some traveling to get answers. Speaking of which, I have some more questions." 

Gurr'khan spends some more time with the group asking about details of their time in Sharn with the Key, taking especial interest in Arrok's murder and the links between the Key and the adventurers.

Afterwards, the group heads to Trillia's home. After they tell her that the job for the Citadel is now completed, she begins to discuss plans for the expedition to Yarkuun Draal. 

Trillia says that she wants to leave two days later, on the morning of the 24th. While the adventurers were in Xen'drik, she paid a small group of explorers to travel near Yarkuun Draal and scried them, so that she can _teleport_ there. With a spell to shrink the four Angels besides Six, she can take all of them with her. The location is about a dozen miles from Yarkuun Draal, from which they will travel to about two miles from the city and spend the night there, so that both Nameless and she have a place they are familiar enough with to _teleport_ to when needed. 

Trillia emphasizes that this will be a very dangerous expedition and she wants to be as safe as they can be. If the group gets into a bad situation, Nameless should get as many people out and back to her place in Sharn and she will do the same. The aim is not to clean out Yarkuun Draal, since that would not be possible without a large army, if at all. 

Luna, getting a little bored with the discussion, yawns and says, "So why are we going to this place?"

Trillia, who's got used to the mercurial druidess, grins and says, "Different reasons, I suppose. For myself, and presumably for Nameless, it's about knowledge. We study the creations of the daelkyr and the influences of Xoriat. For Six, it's a chance to get out of the city and avoid dealing with gnomes. Korm gets to practice fighting the aberrations that the Gatekeepers oppose. Gareth gets to smite evil creatures and bring the light of the Flame into a dark place." Trillia grins broadly and says, "And you, my dear, get to kick ass without taking names and drop _flame strike_s without having to worry about collateral damage."

Luna grins back. "I'm in. Let's go. Now." 

Trillia laughs and continues. "Also, considering that Yarkuun Draal was supposedly one of the finest cities of the Dhakaani empire, eve after all this time I'm sure there are historical artifacts that might be of value, not to mention magical items. If my theory about there being a dimensional seal is correct, the chances are that there are powerful aberrations in the area trying to affect it, and they're sure to have magical possessions of their own. As well as retaining original Dhakaani items, I presume. So there's a good chance you'll be getting a lot richer too. I'm obtaining a letter of marque tomorrow that will let us retain or sell Dhakaani items we recover."

"Better and better," says Luna. "I have a big list of things I'd like to pick up at some point."

Trillia then turns to Nameless. "Are you planning to take that Key with you? If I'm right about the dimensional seal and if that thing can unlock any dimensional seal, if any aberration there finds out you have it, we'll end up as far more important targets than we already will be."

"We don't have too many options," says Nameless. He taps the adamantine-bound case in which he now carries the Key. "And it's about as safe here as anywhere else. Plus it can't really be detected magically, which helps."

"How about trying to use that Key again?" interrupts Luna.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean - why don't you try experimenting with it? Like see if you can use it to control or destroy aberrations or find some other powers it has."

"I'm ... not really sure that's a good idea. Especially since I really can't control it or predict what the result will be."

"Okay. Just a suggestion." _Wuss!_

"However," says Nameless, turning to Trillia, "I'd like to attempt a contact another plane regarding Arrok's murder. And, as you know, if that goes wrong then it might delay the trip a bit."

"Hmm. You really want to risk it?"

"Yes. I think it's worth the attempt."

"Fine. It's your call."

Nameless explains a little about the _contact other plane_ dweomer to the others, especially the fact that the strain it will put on him might affect his ability to use magic for a while. After the explanation and having discussed what he might ask, the group goes to Trillia's spellcasting sanctum. 

There, Nameless prepares himself, casts a couple of preparatory spells to further protect himself, and then speaks the tongue-twisting words of the spell. Each of the ten syllables takes an entire minute of concentration to pronounce. Once he has pronounced the last one, Nameless feels his consciousness expanding, the mental sensation being accompanied by a physical pressure inside his head. The pressure increases to near unbearable proportions, but he grits his teeth and, after a couple of seconds when he feels he might succumb*, the pressure disappears.

A strange illusory web appears before Nameless, pulsing with light. He realizes that he is in temporary contact with a vast reservoir of cosmic knowledge, with every glowing mote on the web consisting of a piece of information. Then he hears a voice in his head, which says simply, "Ask."

Nameless says, both aloud and in his mind, "Have we met the murderer of Arrok?"

There is a pause and then the web reorients itself, a single speck on one strand glowing more brightly as the answer comes, "Yes."

Even as Nameless is about to ask another question, he hears - and vaguely sees, though the glowing web monopolizes his vision, overlaying the reality in the room around him - Luna. "They dropped the charges against you, right? So why do we give a damn about Arrok's murder?"

Nameless can't help rolling his eyes, even as he struggles to retain his concentration. Unusually for him, he is relieved to hear Gareth speak. "Because Arrok's murderer is probably interested in the Key and might want to kill us, so we need to find out about him."

Speaking quietly and trying not to lose concentration, Nameless adds, "And because I promised to protect Arrok."

"Too late now for that, isn't it?" continues Luna.

Nameless sighs and ignores her. Aloud, he asks, "Is Arrok's murderer a member of the Closed Circle?"

Again, the web reorients and the answer comes, "No." There is a pause and then it continues, "But he is near where the Closed Circle was."

"Yeah, okay," continues the irrepressible Luna. "Ask it if he's Killian. Or a gnome."

_Oh my bloody gods that I do not worship!_"Gareth!" says Nameless urgently, "Please talk to her about something ... anything ... before she ruins the spell."

Gareth grins at Nameless' irritation and then says, "So, Luna - let me tell you about the Silver Flame."

Luna promptly feigns rolling over and beginning to snore, but she does stop interrupting Nameless. The alienist continues, "Did we meet Arrok's murderer before leaving for Xen'drik?"

This time, the answer is quicker. "Yes. And after."

With only one question left, Nameless thinks for a moment and then asks, "Is Arrok's murderer male or female?"

There is a long pause and then the answer. "Male. Though he does not need to appear so."

With that, the web quickly spirals in on itself and fades away, leaving Nameless with spots in front of his eyes and the beginnings of a headache. 

"Didn't seem that helpful," comments Luna on the way out. Gareth and Nameless exchange glances, for once in agreement.

***
Gurr'khan leaves the next morning, gruffly warning the group to keep themselves and the Key safe, before he steps into the tree and disappears.

Later, Kitan stops by the Park to speak to Nameless, or Edgar Thorn, as he calls him. The discussion isn't any more pleasurable for him than the previous one, since it's quite (and quickly) clear that Nameless - though remaining polite - isn't really interested in finding out about his past.

"But don't you want to find out who you are?" asks a clearly confused Kitan.

"I know who I am. I'm Nameless. And this," he indicates the rock, "Is Edgar."

"But what about your past? Where you came from?"

"My past is irrelevant. All that matters is the future. And that I will craft."

Gareth, who has recently developed greater powers through his link with the Silver Flame, concentrates silently on trying to _detect thoughts_. Completely unnoticed by Kitan, the paladin is now able to read his surface thoughts. The overriding emotion he picks up is one of confusion, layered into thoughts that flit through Kitan's mind, such as "But why doesn't he care?", "How could he have forgotten everything?" and "What the hell is it with him and the damn rock?!" One fleeting thought that is particularly interesting for Gareth is, "Should I tell him about his parents?" 

It's quite clear to Gareth that Kitan is exactly who he says he is, so he looks at Nameless and gives a quick nod and tries to convey facially that Kitan is telling the truth. 

Nameless stares back at him for a moment and then says, "Are you constipated, Gareth?"

As Gareth sighs, Luna steps in, speaking to Kitan. "Did Edgar have a twin or a relative who looked a lot like him? I'm just wondering if Nameless looking like him is a coincidence."

"I don't think so. The resemblance is ... well, it's not just a resemblance. He looks exactly the same. And remember the birthmark?"

"Yes, that's true. So what happened to his family?"

Kitan hesitates, throwing a look at Nameless, and then says, "His parents - Teros and Pomela - both died on the Day of Mourning. I'm sorry." 

When he mentions the names, Nameless has a momentary feeling of familiarity, like one does when hearing a name one recognizes but cannot place. His expression, however, doesn't change, remaining at the level of polite interest.

Kitan stares at Nameless, clearly expecting more of a reaction. Realizing that it isn't forthcoming, Luna quickly distracts Kitan with more questions, and Kitan says some more about Edgar. He says that Edgar was the son of wealthy farmers and had some minor magical ability, which is why he had joined a special forces unit in the military.  

After a few more minutes, Kitan says, "I have to leave now. Perhaps I will come by again later. If that is all right?"

"Certainly," says Nameless urbanely. _Can't you take a hint_?

As Kitan leaves, Luna says, "I don't think he'll be back in a hurry." She looks at Nameless. "You really don't want to know about your past? Assuming it is your past, that is."

"No," says Nameless shortly. He taps his forehead. "All I need to remember is here."

***
Later in the day, the group checks the Korranberg Chronicle, as usual. The main article this time takes up not just the front page but has a number of offshoots dominating the bulk of the paper. It is about the supposed destruction of the Lord of Blades. The article says a fact-finding mission to the Mournland (which was sponsored by House Cannith, guarded by Deneith mercenaries, and included experts from Morgrave University) encountered proof of his existence and information about his location. 

Baron Merrix d'Cannith, who spoke to the KC about the events, says that he was persuaded to arrange an attack on the Lord of Blades' camp by the well-known Brelish adventuring group, the Blades of Arakhain, whom the Angels knew of and had met in passing during the Brightblade celebrations. The Blades had encountered the Lord of Blades on an earlier expedition into the Mournland and were part of this one. Merrix says that they persuaded him that it was for the good of all Khorvaire that the Lord of Blades be eliminated, and he allowed the Blades to lead a force of Deneith mercenaries and Cannith artificers against his camp. 

The Lord of Blades was slain during the battle and his forces scattered. Sadly, the Blades were slain as well. Merrix declined to discuss their deaths, other than to say that they had gallantly sacrificed their lives to keep Khorvaire safe from a great danger, or to reveal anything about the location of the Lord of Blades' camp, saying that he was discussing it with members of Parliament and the Court and that it was a matter of national security.

As they travel around town while making their preparations for the trip, the Angels find that the subject is a very hot topic for discussion. Opinions range from those who believe that it's all true and are very relieved at the news to those who think Merrix eliminated the warforged messiah for his own benefit to those who think it is a complete fabrication. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, there are a fair number who are vocal with their opinion that this is more proof of warforged as a species being a danger to the people of Khorvaire and that they should be constrained in some way, instead of being allowed to wander freely and treated as equals. Nobody is stupid enough to voice this to Six, but he does at one point get a couple of stones thrown at him by a bunch of children, who chant "Monster! Monster! Go to the Mournland!" and then run off. Six simply watches them go, reminding himself how stupid people can be and being a little relieved that Luna isn't with him when it happens.

***
The next morning, after having made the last of their preparations and completed a hearty breakfast, the group prepares to depart from Trillia's house. When they are all ready, Trillia casts a spell that _reduce_s Nameless, Gareth, Luna and Korm to half their size. Having used it, she has them all clasp hands and then puts a hand on Nameless' shoulder, before casting _teleport_. 

The adventurers feel a momentary sense of dislocation, as if the ground had fallen away under their feet. And then they are standing on a dusty, rocky plain, next to a small oasis of trees around a pool of water. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," says Trillia, looking around with a look of satisfaction on her face, "Welcome to the Siln Highlands."


* Nameless blew the save and had to use an action pt to prevent his Int dropping to 8 for the next 5 weeks


----------



## Gold Roger

shilsen said:
			
		

> Baron Merrix d'Cannith, who spoke to the KC about the events, says that he was persuaded to arrange an attack on the Lord of Blades' camp by the well-known Brelish adventuring group, the Blades of Arakhain, whom the Angels knew of and had met in passing during the Brightblade celebrations. The Blades had encountered the Lord of Blades on an earlier expedition into the Mournland and were part of this one. Merrix says that they persuaded him that it was for the good of all Khorvaire that the Lord of Blades be eliminated, and he allowed the Blades to lead a force of Deneith mercenaries and Cannith artificers against his camp.
> 
> The Lord of Blades was slain during the battle and his forces scattered. Sadly, the Blades were slain as well. Merrix declined to discuss their deaths, other than to say that they had gallantly sacrificed their lives to keep Khorvaire safe from a great danger, or to reveal anything about the location of the Lord of Blades' camp, saying that he was discussing it with members of Parliament and the Court and that it was a matter of national security.




Wasn't that the other group you DM. Since you can't really TPK your groups, I take it far more is going on here?


----------



## Piratecat

shilsen said:
			
		

> * Elusive Target is a beautiful, beautiful feat. Esp. when your player is nice enough to roll and confirm a critical on his ally



Yoink!


----------



## shilsen

Gold Roger said:
			
		

> Wasn't that the other group you DM. Since you can't really TPK your groups, I take it far more is going on here?



 Yes, that is the other group. We've been having a lot of scheduling difficulties and significantly losing momentum, so we've temporarily put that Eberron game on hold and I'm running a Mutants & Masterminds game for them for the time being. We ended with their PCs on the way to the LoB's main camp (after having taken out a smaller one and learned of the main one's location), so I know they'd end up with a big battle against him, which I presume they would win. And let's just say that they'd be likely to have a conflict of interest with their employers over some of the things they'd discover, so it's very likely they'd be attacked at the end of it and end up being stuck in the Mournland and having to find their way out. So, depending on when (& whether) we continue with that campaign, stories of their demise may be greatly exaggerated.



			
				Piratecat said:
			
		

> Yoink!




Enjoy! And say "hello" to your PCs from me


----------



## shilsen

The area that the Angels find themselves in is a study in contrasts. Most of it is rocky and barren, with small cracks and crevasses breaking up the ground, and large spires and outcrops of rock rising above it. Dotted across the area, however, are a large number of oases, made up of ferns and surrounding trees that overhang a central pool. Trillia says that literally thousands of underground springs emerge in such oases across the area. She also points out the rough trail that leads towards and away from the oasis they are near, saying that it was made by the Dhakaani empire.

Near where they appeared are the remnants of an old camp and a fire-pit, presumably left by the travelers whom Trillia had paid to come to this place. Six checks the fire-pit and says, “Something - or somebody - went through this some time after it was last lit.”

Trillia, who has been orienting herself direction-wise, says, “Probably not a creature from the city, but one can’t say.” She points and adds, “Heading directly south-east should get us there. I’m estimating it’s about a dozen miles away.”

Before they leave, Luna says that she wants to try something. “You can talk to other planes and stuff,” she tells Nameless, “But I’ll take getting information from nature any day. At least it doesn‘t rot your brain.” 

Assuming a cross-legged stance, she recites the words and goes through the gestures of a _commune with nature_. As she proceeds, Luna feels herself becoming one with the land around her, information about the area flooding into her senses. Knowing that she cannot contain or comprehend all the information, she focuses on just three subjects - the presence of humanoids in the area, the presence of powerful aberrations and the presence of minerals. She picks up a sense of a large number of humanoids, perhaps over a hundred, about six miles to the northeast. She also senses two large sets of aberrations to the east and the southeast, near the limits of her ability, which is about nine miles. As for minerals, she picks up minor silver deposits very deep underground and a large concentration of iron very close to or in the same area as the large humanoid presence.

After she informs them what she discovered, the group heads southeast, following one of the old trails. It is quickly clear that the roads must have been excellent highways at one point, with millennia of wear and tear having reduced them to the state of a well-worn track. Nevertheless, it does make travel easier. 

After they have traveled for about 2 hours, a few of the Angels notice tracks along the trail. They stop to let Six, aided by Luna, cast around and find more about the tracks. He eventually decides that they must have been made by four to six creatures of human size, wearing armor or at least metal-shod boots. He also finds a smaller track, about halfling size, which seems to have been made by a creature traveling with but ahead of those making the larger tracks, perhaps acting as a scout. He estimates that the tracks are only a day or two old. 

“Perhaps they’re hobgoblins,” says Trillia. “There have been reports of hobgoblins in the area for decades, with the rare attack on travelers and even a couple of ineffectual raids on Flint Keep. Probably descendants of the original owners of Yarkuun Draal.”

“Do you want me to see if I can track them? This ground doesn’t hold tracks well, but I might be able to.”

“No need. As long as they don’t bother us, we shouldn’t mess with them.”

The group continues onwards, traveling through the afternoon. The weather is hotter than the Angels are used to in Sharn, but being outside the manifest zone means it’s also much drier, so the traveling is quite comfortable.

When they are about six miles away from their starting point, the group is startled by the sound of cries from above, combining a deep-throated growl and a loud hiss. Spinning around, they see three large creatures dive off the top of a thick rocky spire over a hundred feet tall and about eighty feet away. As they spread their leathery bat wings and come zooming downwards with claws extended, a number of the adventurers cry out, “Wyverns!”

Nameless is the quickest to react, throwing a pinch of powder in the air and casting a spell. Trillia gives a snort of laughter as she realizes what he’s doing, and the other spell casters grin too. A puzzled Six just begins to ask, “What’s so fu…” when two of the wyverns flatten themselves painfully against the _wall of force_ that Nameless just conjured. With startled squawks and expressions of confusion and anger, they slide off and land on the ground. The third wyvern comes in talons first at Six, only to have him dodge aside and feed it a faceful of spiked chain.

After that inauspicious (for the wyverns, that is) beginning to the attack, the rest of the battle is quite one-sided. Neither Nameless nor Trillia even bother to _summon_ anything for support, settling for a little supportive magic, while the other four rip into the wyverns. The creatures manage to land some powerful blows with their fangs, wings and talons, but not enough to be dangerous. The creatures are too stupid to flee during the very limited period when they have a chance and are quickly turned into wyvern steak, though only Luna (perhaps giving in to the animal instincts of her ursine form) tries some. 

“Does she usually eat what you kill?” asks Trillia, watching with interest as the bear bites into one of the carcasses. "Especially raw?”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” replies Korm. “And she’s not eating it raw, or not completely. That's the one she used flame strike on. Seals in the flavor.”

Luna quits after a couple of bites and rejoins the others, and after taking care of the necessary healing and making sure that neither Korm nor Gareth (each of whom was stung by a wyvern’s tail) has been poisoned, the group heads on. 

The rest of the day’s journey is uneventful, with the landscape remaining constant. The travelers do notice, however, that there is a change in the forms - or rather, variety - of life in the area. While the flora remains essentially the same, consisting of concentrated clumps of vegetation around the multitude of pools that they pass, the fauna in the area gradually becomes scarcer. As the miles pass, the birds, small mammals and reptiles diminish in number.

“I’m guessing they sense the proximity of the city in some way,” comments Trillia, as she brings the group to a halt, even though there’s enough light for the group to continue for at least an hour. “We're probably about two or three miles from the city and I’d rather be some distance from there.”   

Once they have made camp, Trillia and Nameless spend a while studying every facet of the immediate and surrounding area. “Remember,” she reminds him, “If it ever looks like we’re in really serious trouble - and I’m sure we will be, sooner or later - get as many people as you can out and come here. I’ll get the rest.”

Once they are ready to turn in, Luna takes the staff from the island and places it upright in the middle of the camp. As she activates the staff, it expands to become a twenty foot tall sapling and roots itself firmly, despite the rocky ground. A small cluster of branches appear along its sides and at the top, with those six feet above the ground holding a small bunch of berries, an apple and a tangerine. A hemisphere with a diameter of forty feet forms around it, mimicking the effect of a _tiny hut_ spell. Luna pulls off a berry and pops it in her mouth. “Aah, _goodberry_ - don’t leave home without it.”

The first two watches of the night pass peacefully. During the third, the never-sleeping Six's keen eyes* spots movement about a hundred and fifty feet away from the camp. Looking around carefully in the light of the stars and Eberron’s multiple moons, he notices over half a dozen wolf-like creatures spaced around the camp, all stealthily creeping closer. 

“Look out!” he says to Korm and Gareth, both of whom are on watch with him, “Company - there, there, and there!” Then he raises his voice and shouts, “Get up! We’re under attack! Wolves!” Taking a few quick steps to the side, he punctuates his words by booting Luna, sleeping in her bear form, in the ribs.

She comes growling out of her sleep, giving Six a dirty look as she realizes what he just did. Nameless quickly rises too, followed more slowly by Trillia, who is apparently as heavy a sleeper as she is loud a snorer.

Korm looks around, catching sight of the creatures now that Six has pointed them out, and says, “They can’t be wolves. This isn’t the right environment.” 

He’s quickly proved correct, as the creatures - realizing that they’ve been spotted - leap to their feet and fully reveal themselves. Each has a canine form and a vaguely wolf-like (but much larger) head, but the long, almost serpentine neck that bears it grows out of the middle of the beast’s back. The sides are marked with what look like tattoos and runes. Those members of the group with better eyesight note that the creatures have no eyes.

“What in Hell are those things?” asks Gareth, with Luna adding a curious growl. 

Nameless, in the middle of casting a _haste_ on the group, says, “I think they’re runehounds. I’ve never fought one but I read about them. They’re creations of the daelkyr. They’re affected by silver weapons and their wounds heal very quickly.”

Trillia adds, “And can spit globs of acid and webbing over long distances. So watch out.” Luna promptly growls and waves a paw, casting a spell to resist energy on herself. 

“At least,” says Nameless, as the others assume defensive positions, “They can’t see us through the tiny hut, so they can’t target us easily.”

This theory doesn’t last long. The eight runehounds come loping in to a distance of about fifty feet, before they all spit globs of acid. Despite the lack of evident eyes and the concealment provided by the _tiny hut_, they are clearly able to target the adventurers. Each and every one of the group is hit by at least one glob of acid, only Luna being unaffected, due to her protective spell. The runehounds all howl loudly and charge in.

“Damn!” swears Korm, trying to scrape the sticky, burning liquid off his chest. “Wolves would have been a _lot_ better.”

“Yes,” agrees Nameless. “They would!” He casts a spell and a wolf more than thrice the size of one of the runehounds appears next to it. As always with Nameless’ _summon_ed creatures, this one has a writhing fringe of tentacles. It bites deeply into the side of the startled runehound and pulls it yelping off its feet.

“What happened to the wall of beef?” asks Six, as he tumbles past an onrushing runehound and then lays its side open.

“I upgraded,” says Nameless. “It’s wall of wolf now.” After a slight pause, he says, “Well, it will be when I get more than one.”

Trillia, beside him, grins as she prepares to cast. “Don’t worry - the first time’s always difficult.” She casts and three more such wolves appear, engaging more of the runehounds. “See - that’s how it’s done!”

With four of the enemies engaged, the rest of the adventurers have a much easier time of it. Though Korm, Six, Gareth and Luna are all further wounded by the end of the fight, four of the runehounds are soon dead and the others fleeing with the four pseudonatural wolves in pursuit. 

Once they are certain that the danger is past, the adventurers fall to healing. Luna gingerly tries a little bit of runehound (finding it to be surprisingly tasty) before joining the others.

“That’s a small sample of what we’re likely to find at the city,” says Trillia, as she’s heading back to her blankets. 

“Great!” says Gareth. “Make sure you guys have a few extra teleports on hand tomorrow!”


* Fricking 30 Spot check!


----------



## shilsen

A little addition:

Six's player had been wanting to hire an artificer to travel with the group, so we handled that over email. The following happened before the group left Sharn:



> Something else that Six does is to visit the Clifftop Adventurers Guild and ask about artificers who might be interested in joining the Guardian Angels. He finds two artificers who are currently unattached to any adventuring groups and willing to adventure with the Angels, whom they have heard of. Six also gets the distinct feeling that a couple of people shy away from the possibility because what they’ve heard of the Angels’ adventures makes them figure that they aren’t able to handle that level of danger. After some time speaking to them, Six is quite sure that the two artificers who are willing to join are much less skilled than Corven was. He tells them that he’ll speak to his allies and let them know.
> 
> Six then heads over to the Esoteric Order of Aureon and attempts to check on artificers there. The receptionist there informs him - as a non-member of the Order - he cannot speak to the members directly. He promises to speak to them on Six’s behalf, as part of the brokerage service that the Order provides for members and prospective clients. He takes down some information about the Angels (whom he too has heard of) and the job offer, while mentioning that most of the Order's artificers prefer jobs involving crafting or enchanting equipment, rather than actively going out there adventuring, but a couple might be interested. One he mentions is the recent member and the first warforged in the Order, Stone. Six gathers that the Order’s artificers will certainly be more skilled than those from the adventuring guild, though again probably not at the same level of expertise as Corven (whom the receptionist describes as one of the most skilled artificers in the Order). Six lists the Gatehouse at Carosten Park as the location where interested people should leave a message. He also mentions that the artificer would be functioning in a support capacity and that a mobile workshop could be provided to make his work easier.
> 
> After leaving the Order, Six heads over to the Cathedral. Locating Bodo there, Six gives the young boy a list of the people whose names he has got and asks Bodo if he can try and dig up any information about them that he can. Bodo, who hasn’t seen Six in months, says he’d be happy to do that, which becomes “very happy” once Six slips him a few coins. As Six heads off, he thinks to himself, _If Bodo can find out a lot about someone, that means that one is likely to be a bit of a talker, and that’s not something we need right now._


----------



## shilsen

The next morning, while the others have a cold breakfast and prepare their spells, Six casts around the camp and eventually discovers that the runehounds had been following the group's tracks for about a mile and had split up to attack the camp from all side. Six follows their tracks south until they eventually bend east, heading in the same direction that the group will go. When he returns to the camp and informs the others, Trillia says, “They’re definitely from Yarkuun Draal. If not currently from the city,  they must have been released into the surrounding area by the creatures there.”

“So what exactly can we expect to run into there?” asks Gareth.

“Well, the last time I was there - and bear in mind that was a decade ago - we saw many kinds of aberrations. Including some I haven’t encountered anywhere else. There were a lot of strange plants, especially poisonous ones. You guys did prepare some anti-poison spells, right?”

“I’m immune to poison,” says Luna, a little smugly, “But I do have a couple prepared for the rest of you.”

“Same here,” confirms Korm, while putting even more of an edge to his sword. Sheathing it, he says, “This is enchanted to be particularly effective against aberrations.”

“You’ll need it,” promises Trillia.

After a little more discussion, the adventurers break camp and head out. The trail that they are following heads directly southeast, so they continue along it. As they travel, they notice that whatever few animals they had seen in the area have disappeared. Not a single bird flies overhead, with the only ones visible being little specks in the sky miles to the north and west. 

After about a mile, they catch sight of a blue expanse a couple of miles directly to the south, which Trillia identifies as the ocean. At almost the same time they spot a huge crack in the earth about a mile away, which dwarfs the small crevasses they have seen along the way. 

The gorge is directly in the group’s path, and as they near it they realize exactly how large it is, stretching approximately ten miles. As the trail they are on nears the edge of the gorge, they can see it descend into a cutting, like a small nick cut into the side of the huge blade that forms the canyon. More such cuttings are visible to north and south, with other trails leading into them. 

As they enter the cutting, the group finds that either wall has carvings set into it, depicting goblinoid figures in the full panoply of war. Most seem to be hobgoblins, but there are larger figures that seem to be bugbears, and some goblins are represented too. It is difficult to be sure, since thousands of years of erosion has worn away at the carvings, and most have been at least partially defaced.

Passing through the cutting, the adventurers emerge into a large stone courtyard, which gives them their first good view of the inside of the gorge. At the bottom of the canyon is an inlet of the ocean, extending nearly two miles and forming a natural harbor. Descending in terraced levels from the top of the gorge to the inlet at the bottom, along the two inner walls of the canyon, is a huge city. It extends horizontally from the sea for miles into the gorge.

Parts of the city have fallen into rubble, but the majority of it is in remarkably good condition. Great statues and elaborate arches decorate the entrance to a labyrinth of caverns and dwellings. In fact, in certain ways the city boasts more evident life than the plateau top on either side of the gorge. Partly natural and partly artificial streams flow along the sides of the gorge and descend into cisterns that overflow into decorative fountains. Small gardens and collections of lush palms decorate the airy walkways and the balconies that line the various levels of the city. The only thing missing are any moving denizens, of which the adventurers see none around them.

“Welcome to Yarkuun Draal, jewel of the Dhakaani!” says Trillia, smiling at the expressions on her companions’ faces, ranging from mildly impressed to awed.

“Bigger than I expected,” says Six. “And I don’t see any signs of aberrations.”  

Korm, looking around with an expression of wariness, says, “They are here. I feel a … wrongness here.” Beside him, the bear Luna growls in agreement.

“I’m sure we’ll see some soon enough,” says Trillia. She points out that the path leading down from the cleft descends to blend into one of the many horizontal streets that separate the various levels of the city and that there is a large courtyard a few hundred feet to the north. “Let’s head down there and decide what seems a likely direction to explore.”

The group proceeds along the path. Within moments of stepping onto the horizontal street, the group has its first violent encounter. They are passing beside a large stretch of vegetation, when long, green tentacles lash out at them. A couple of the adventurers are struck painfully, discovering that not only are the tentacles lined with leaves which have long barbs along their edges, but the barbs contain poison. Most of them shake of the effects, or are simply immune as Six and Luna are, but Korm feels the poison slow his reflexes and sap his vitality.

The source of the attacks are revealed to be four animated bushes, shuffling forward on ambulatory roots, more tentacles lashing out as they come. Even as the Angels strike back, four more such bushes appear at the edge of the level above, their long tentacles striking down as well.

The Angels quickly respond, Luna using an _entangle_ to hold the plants on the upper level immobile, while Nameless _summon_s some of his bison to butt, chew and trample them. Gareth and Six settle for slashing apart the bushes on the lower level, while Korm sends an _arc of lightning_ racing across them. 

Ironically, Trillia is the one who seems most surprised and twice fails to cast a spell while avoiding the storm of lashing tentacles*. Nameless diplomatically pretends not to notice.

Despite her failure, the plants are quickly dispatched, but not before all of the group have been wounded. As soon as the last plant collapses, the adventurers quickly tend to their wounds, especially those that might have been poisoned. With Luna, the only skilled healer in the group, in her bear form and unable to help, Korm** has to take recourse to his magic to prevent further effects. “That was a painful experience,” he says.

“Yes,” agrees Trillia, “And that was just the first of many, I’m sure.”

“Oh joy!”


* I rolled a 1 and 3 for her Concentration checks
** Rolled two 2s for his Fortitude saves, requiring him to use two action pts. Korm’s player, Michael Tree, wasn’t around, so it was clearly a bad day for the NPCs I was rolling for.


----------



## shilsen

We aren't playing again until the 24th of June, so there'll be a bit of a gap until the next segment. 

I'm canvassing for ideas for things that I can use in Yarkuun Draal, so (if you're not a player), please stop by this thread and toss in your thoughts.

All increased suffering for the PCs will be much appreciated !


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## shilsen

*Action Points*

A couple of people had asked on the thread, before the server crash, about the action point system I've been using. Last session I modified it to the following, and I thought I'd post it here in case anyone is interested:



> *Eberron Campaign - Action Points*
> Here is a quick run-through of how action points will work in this campaign. The following is a mixture of elements from the Eberron Campaign Setting and Green Ronin's Mutants and Masterminds, with additions of my own.
> 
> *Action points per session:*
> PCs start each session with 2 action points. They may also receive more action pts during the session due to DM Fiat (see below). Unused action pts do not carry over to the next session. You cannot use more than one action pt on a given benefit per round. You may give another player an action pt if all of his have been used up.
> 
> *Basic usage of action points - Rerolling:*
> You can spend an action pt to reroll an attack roll, a skill check, an ability check, a level check, or a saving throw, and take the better of the two rolls. On a result of 1 to 10 on the reroll, add 10 to the result. An 11-20 on the reroll, remains as is. So, in effect, the reroll is always 11-20.
> 
> *Other options:*
> Besides the basic usage, you can also use action pts as follows:
> Activate Class Feature - You can use an action pt to gain another use of one of the following class features: bardic music, rage, smite evil, stunning fist, turn/rebuke undead, or wild shape.
> Increase Speed - You can double your speed for all movement modes for a round by using an action pt.
> Hasten Infusion -  An artificer can use an action pt. to imbue an infusion in 1 round, even if its normal casting time is longer.
> Resistance - Gain an immediate extra save vs. an ongoing effect on you.
> Stabilize - When you are knocked to negative hit pts, you can use an action pt to stabilize at your current hit point total. If knocked to -10 or below, you stabilize at -9 hit pts.
> Note: I may allow you to use action pts for some other effects. Ask me and make suggestions during the game, but remember that this is purely arbitrary. Also, note that action pts can affect your own actions/status but not an enemy’s.
> 
> *Action point-oriented feats (from ECS):*
> Action Boost - Roll two d20 when rerolling using action pts and use the best one
> Action Surge - Spend an action pt to take an extra move or standard action
> Heroic Spirit - Gain an extra action pt per session
> Pursue - Spend an action pt to move into square opponent has left
> There are feats in other Eberron books which allow the use of action pts for various effects. Certain PrCs (e.g. Extreme Explorer) enable you to gain or use action pts in other ways.
> 
> *DM Fiat:*
> Players also gain action pts when the DM "bends" the rules to benefit the opposition. The DM essentially gets to "cheat" on behalf of the NPCs, but the PCs get action pts when this happens. Some examples of DM fiat are:
> * Giving an NPC the benefit of an action pt
> * Having the PCs automatically be surprised at the start of an encounter
> * Giving an NPC the benefits of a feat he doesn't have
> In short, if I choose to bend the rules for the sake of the game, the PCs get action pts to make up for being temporarily hampered. If my use of DM Fiat hampers the PCs in the long term, I may award extra action pts in future sessions.


----------



## shilsen

*Session 33 - Prodding Sphincter and Taking Names*

With the strange plants dead and healing taken care off, the adventurers continue towards the courtyard they head been heading for. Six notices that Korm is still moving a little sluggishly* and jokes, “I didn’t think you could get any slower.” The big orc grunts at the equally large but much nimbler warforged. “All of us can’t be acrobats.”

Reaching the courtyard, the Angels find that it contains one of the many fountains that dot the city, this one with a stream of water descending to it from the higher terraces of the city, which then flows out again and down towards the stream at the bottom of the gorge. 

Examining the fountain, which seems to have been carved in one piece out of the stone of the plateau and has examples of the often abstract Dhakaani art running around it, Six notices that beneath about two feet of water it is full of a translucent, milky-white substance. He is just about to drop a piece of rock to see what it is, when Nameless stops him. “I’m quite sure it is an ooze of some kind.”

The alienist looks around and asks the group, “As long as it’s not attacking us, can anyone think of a good reason to bother it?”

“No,” replies Trillia, who has been looking around with interest. “I suggest we check the nearby buildings and then spread out further, if we find nothing. Last time I was here - and admittedly that was years ago - we found that the aberrations that lived on the surface did so in clumps spread across the city rather than occupying all of it. And most lived below the surface.”

Everybody agrees and the group randomly picks a building and enters. Over the better part of an hour, they check four buildings. Each is uninhabited and has had most of its contents removed. Only carvings that are physically part of the structures remain, with nearly a quarter of them having been defaced. Though there is less dust that might have been expected in such a place, it does coat the various chambers, revealing that there has been no recent passage through them. 

The dust in the sixth building shows the first signs of life in Yarkuun Draal besides the strange plants. There are clear signs of passage, the majority of them being halfling-sized tracks, thought there is one set that is larger than human-sized, and one non-humanoid track left by something that slithers along the ground. Most of the tracks lead inwards, though the smaller ones lead both in and out.

The Angels follow the tracks to the rearmost room, the back wall of which reveals the mouth of a large tunnel, ten feet tall and wide, leading into darkness as far as their various forms of vision can see. The tunnel is quite rough in shape, and examination reveals that it was made from the far side, rather than being made from the building.

“Something burrowed in here?” asks Six, looking into the tunnel and studying it with his head-lamp.

“Or things,” says Trillia. “There are a few aberrations that can burrow through rock and leave a tunnel behind them.”

“Delvers, for example,” adds Nameless.

“Delvers?” asks Gareth.

“Yeah. Big creatures, as wide as this tunnel. They secrete a slime that dissolves stone.” Nameless nods at Gareth's plate mail armor and Kizmet. “And metal. Even magical metal.”

“Great!” grimaces Korm, looking at his own greatsword. “I believe mine is resistant to such effects.” _I hope_.

After some more discussion and the casting of numerous protective spells, the group heads into the tunnel. Six takes point, an extensible pole in hand to check the ground ahead, with Korm right behind him. Luna’s ursine bulk fills the tunnel behind them, with the two alienists behind her, and Gareth brings up the rear. 

About a hundred feet in, they encounter a 5 ft wide archway, a soft pink in color that clearly sets it aside from the stone of the tunnel before it, which runs around the tunnel and the floor. Beyond the archway, the tunnel - which has the same pink color - becomes absolutely smooth. A series of greenish-blue striations run along the tunnel walls from the archway. 

Six prods the archway carefully, having no effect, and then the group moves up to study it. It is hard, but has a little more give than the stone. Six scratches at it and finds he is easily able to do so. He also digs the knife into it with some effort, penetrating an inch (the distance the archway stands out from the stone before it) before he stops. While he is doing this, he feels a very slow, soft movement, or rather a throb deep in the material. After a few seconds, it happens again and continues to do so at regular intervals. 

“I think the archway has a pulse,” says Six.

“What?”

“Yeah. I think it’s alive in some way.”

“I’m not really surprised,” says Trillia. “The daelkyr, and less so their followers, take great pleasure in crafting aberrant - pun unintended - forms of life.”

“Those could be veins, ” says Nameless, pointing at the striations, drawing a growl of disgust and a shake of her head from Luna.

“On the bright side,” says Six, “I don’t see any big teeth or a...”, when he is interrupted by another growl from Luna, this time a warning one. 

“What is it, Luna? You smell something?” The bear shakes her head and lifts a paw to tap her ear, before waving it in the direction the group was heading.

“You hear something? Coming towards us?” Luna gives as much of a shrug as a bear can.

The discussion quickly becomes moot, with everyone hearing the click of crossbows, as half a dozen bolts come flying down the tunnel. 

***
The leader of the dolgrims crouched in the dark chamber smiles as two of the people standing in the tunnel are hit by the bolts, and motions the remaining dolgrim forward. 

Then all four of its eyes widen in shock as one of the humanoids gestures and pronounces some words. Two large tentacled bison appear in the tunnel and charge into the chamber, goring and trampling the shocked dolgrims. Behind them comes the humanoid that seems to be made partly of metal and wood, striking out with a long chain weapon to drop the closest dolgrim.

The humanoid that summoned the bison shouts, “Surrender and you will be ... um, just surrender.” The dolgrim leader has no time to be surprised that the humanoid actually speaks fluent daelkyr, since the call to surrender is followed by a growling bear and another humanoid wielding a sword longer than any of the dolgrims are tall. They charge into the chamber and respectively decapitate and rip in half the two dolgrim fleeing for the sphincter that makes the primary exit.

The leader screams and turns to flee, but it’s too late. The last thing it sees are the gleaming spikes on the chain that whips past its left ears and then snaps back. 

***
“You know,” says Trillia, as the adventurers look around the large chamber, now littered with the bodies of dolgrims, “Next time someone asks for a surrender, maybe you should give them a chance to do so.”

“They’re dolgrims,” says Korm grimly, wiping his sword on a rag. “You wouldn’t be getting any information off them.”  

Luna growls in agreement and then carefully nibbles one of the corpses. _Hmm, tastes like chicken_.

The oval-shaped chamber is about fifty feet across, its surfaces made of the same living material that lined the tunnel. The only things it contains is some crudely made furniture and a couple of wooden crates. A small opening on either side leads to a smaller chamber. The more unusual exit is in the far wall from the tunnel entrance, a ten foot wide sphincter.

Korm, having checked one of the smaller chambers, returns and says, “Great! I found their privy. And they’re storing their refuse too. And no, I don’t want to know why.” 

In the other one, Six stands over six wooden tubs and notes that each is stuffed full of raw, bloody, very fatty, meat. He carefully prods it with his pole. When there is no response, he says, “Well, at least it doesn’t seem alive.” 

Gareth, standing near him, says, “It isn’t evil either.”

“Good to know,” says Nameless sarcastically from the doorway behind him. “Hey, everybody, their larder isn’t evil!”

Six ignores them and takes a sample of the meat, before rejoining the others. As they gather near the sphincter, it slides open, revealing the chamber beyond, from which a foul odor emanates.

The chamber is at least as large as the previous one, illuminated by green light emanating from three large crystals embedded into the ceiling. The veins/striations along the walls and ceiling are much thicker here. There is another large sphincter on the far wall and a slightly smaller one on the left wall. But what draws the group’s attention are the three circular pools in the room. Each is over a dozen feet in diameter, filled with a dark fluid that is constantly bubbling, though there is no appreciable change in temperature here. The liquid also flows from each pool to the other through one of three channels that link them in a triangular shape. Another channel carries fluid into each pool from a hole near the ceiling. Each pool contains something - or things, since there appear to be a number of them - that is floating on the surface, but from the entrance it is unclear what they are. 

After a moment’s hesitation, the adventurers enter. As soon as they do, a number of them feel a sense of deep, abiding depression overcome them. Trillia turns and asks, “Do any of you feel really, really crappy?”

Six, for whom this is a very new emotion, shakes his head and says, “I don’t feel good. I feel like this is ... futile. Why is that?”

Gareth, having been unaffected, asks, “What’s going on?”

Korm rubs his temple and says, “Probably a trap of some sort. And yes, I feel lousy.”

Nameless casts a _detect magic_ and scans the area. Looking at the crystals, he says, “They’re giving off transmutation, divination and enchantment auras.” And a second later, he adds, “And just created a spell effect. Each of them. Enchantment.”

Luna, previously unaffected, is now affected and growls her irritation. After some experimentation, including backing up and letting the sphincter close and waiting till the effect passes (which takes five minutes), the adventurers quickly work out that the crystals each emanate some effect every few seconds, which creates the depressing emotion. With three such effects occurring regularly, everyone is affected sooner or later. 

Nameless’ experience is a little different to the others. A few seconds after as he is affected, he has a distinct feeling of something going “click” in the back of his head. There is no recurrence to the effect for him.

Resigning themselves to the feeling, the Angels move into the chamber, experiencing the strange amalgam of depression, curiosity and apprehension at the same time. As they reach and gaze into the pools, Luna growls what can only be an ursine version of “Oh, yuck!”, summing up the group’s general response.

The pools each contain two or three roughly humanoid figures, ranging in size from about goblin-sized to slightly larger than a human. It is difficult to say if they are really humanoid, since none has four complete limbs, and they keep (slowly, but certainly) changing in form, though retaining a basic humanoid template. Parts of their bodies literally wash away in the bubbling fluid and then reform. As the Angels watch, they see skin and muscle dissolve, revealing throbbing organs, oozing brains, and squirming intestines. 

The only two constants about all the creatures are their eyes, which are completely clear and bulging out of their sockets, and their gaping mouths, which have a thick glutinous film covering them. Each creature also has at least one individual feature that is unchanging, which is linked somehow to the other inhabitants of the pools. Each pool also holds a number of much smaller creatures, which resemble nothing so much as small jellyfish. Most are simply floating back and forth in the bubbling water, but some are attached to parts of the larger creatures. Whichever part they attach to never seems to change, and also seem to be the most aberrant parts of the larger creatures. One has a pair of mandibles, like those on a giant ant, attached to its chin, while another has insect-like feet growing out of its chest, while a third has either a muscular tail or tentacle attached to its back.

Trillia, kneeling to take a lower look but carefully staying some distance away, says, “It’s some kind of a transformative process.” Her voice holds much more fascination than disgust.

“Is this common with aberrations?” asks Six.

Nameless replies. “The daelkyr treat the crafting of living creatures ... or rather, living intelligent creatures ... in new shapes and ways as an art form. Some aberrations also practice it. The processes have never been really worked out, though some mages have found ways to mimic them. Somewhat.”

Trillia adds, “I’ve never seen a process like this.”

“Do you know what that fluid is?” asks Six. At her reply of "No," he fishes out the piece of meat recovered from the previous room and drops it in. It bobs on the surface, a couple of the small jellyfish-like creatures floating up to nuzzle at it and then moving away.

“Stop throwing things in there,” says Gareth. “Whatever the creature that’s doing this, I think it’s safe to say that it’s evil. These are probably innocent creatures being tortured.”

Six doesn’t respond, pulling his bow off his back and putting an arrow into one of the jellyfish-things. It explodes under the impact, leaving only tiny specks that are lost in the churning water.

Korm, who has been kneeling near another pool with an expression of increasing distaste and anger, stands up and says grimly. “Gareth is right. If you listen carefully, you can hear them screaming through that stuff on their mouths. We need to put them out of their misery.”

Luna gives another growl and lifts a paw to point at the meat Six threw in. The meat has a soft pink covering over it. Gareth peers at it and then says, “By the Flame, it’s actually growing skin!” He looks again and adds, “And so is your arrow!”

“That does it!” says Korm. “Six - if you will?”

Six nods and carefully takes aim at one of the larger creatures, before putting an arrow neatly through its right eye. The arrow sinks deep, punching through its skull. The creature doesn’t make a sound, but after a second its other eye closes, followed shortly by its mouth. Six proceeds to do the same to the others in the pool and then move to the next one. Behind him, there is the sound of a weapon chopping into flesh as Korm uses his sword on the ones near him.

After the distasteful task is over, Trillia takes a sample of the liquid from a pool, as does Nameless. After doing so, she says, “Interesting. The liquid’s flowing out of the pools and not in.” She points at the streams and adds, “And _up_ the walls.”

“Whatever’s doing this must have very powerful magic to hand,” says Gareth.

“Actually,” corrects Nameless, “Aberrations don’t necessarily use magic - or at least not the kind we use - in their shaping of other creatures. Much of what they use replicates magic and can be detected or identified using spells, but is not magic per se. That liquid gives off a number of magical auras, but it’s some sort of a biological mix, I’m sure, not magical.”

Six interrupts, having had something else pointed out to him by Luna. “Umm - guys? Remember that meat I threw in?”

“Yeah?”

“I think it’s started growing hair now. I don’t know about you, but I’m leaving before it climbs out and bites me.”

Nobody disagrees, and the group moves on to the sphincter in the left wall. Six moves up to it, and when this one does not open, pokes it with his pole**. At which point the sphincter opens slightly and fires a cloud of green gas that envelops Six and Korm (who was standing next to him).

After a second of shock, Luna gives what sounds as close to a laugh as a bear can, while Gareth turns to Nameless and says, “Did the door just _fart_ on him?”

Korm quickly backs out of the mist, which now fills a ten foot wide space, and snorts, “Gah! That’s a _stinking cloud_.”

Gareth smirks and taps the _ring of adaptation_ that they found on the island. “Good thing I can’t be bothered by things like that.”

Six, who has followed Korm, says, “Then why don’t you try getting it open?” 

“Okay.” Gareth unsheathes Kizmet and walks into the mist, the thin shell of constant fresh air around him keeping the vapors at bay. Setting his feet, he hits the sphincter once. 

As soon as he does so, a horizontal gap opens in the sphincter. A flat, muscular appendage over two feet in length shoots out of the gap and promptly smacks Gareth across the face. Though his helm prevents serious damage, its wet surface touches his flesh and he feels an acidic burn.

From outside the mist, Korm asks, “What’s going on?” 

“Aargh - the door _licked_ me! ”

“What?!”

Gareth hacks at the appendage and shouts, “Stop asking questions and get in here!”

Korm steps into the mist, holding his breath. After a momentary pause at seeing Gareth engaged with what does really look like a huge tongue, Korm joins him and the two quickly slice it into pieces. The tattered appendage retracts and after a couple of blows, the sphincter slides open, even as the _stinking cloud_ fades away, revealing the chamber beyond.


* Korm was down to 8 Dex for the entire session, from his normally staggering height of 10 Dex.
** First session I've ever run where a player got to say, “I prod the sphincter with my pole.”


----------



## Mallus

shilsen said:
			
		

> ** First session I've ever run where a player got to say, “I prod the sphincter with my pole.”



Somehow I see a similiar quote being used in the CITY campaign if, and when the party ever kills, or allies themselves with, one Jack Fancy, Esq.

BTW, nice work so far with Aberrationville. It sounds far more interesting the troll-wrestling and advanced shadow-hunting session I played over the weekend. Though on the plus side, my character did pick up a nice set of +2 studded leather armor, which accents his usual outfit of loincloth, fur-lined boots of levitation, necklace of human molars, and tricorne hat quite nicely (he's a barbarian airship pirate...).


----------



## shilsen

Mallus said:
			
		

> Somehow I see a similiar quote being used in the CITY campaign if, and when the party ever kills, or allies themselves with, one Jack Fancy, Esq.




Sounds like it could be the start of a beautiful friendship. At least between Fancy and Meiji. Until Rackhir shot both of them repeatedly in the face.



> BTW, nice work so far with Aberrationville.




It did go quite well. There was a nice combination of humor, paranoia and "WTF?!" moments. The next update should have a couple of those. Two words - goblin flipbook.



> It sounds far more interesting the troll-wrestling and advanced shadow-hunting session I played over the weekend. Though on the plus side, my character did pick up a nice set of +2 studded leather armor, which accents his usual outfit of loincloth, fur-lined boots of levitation, necklace of human molars, and tricorne hat quite nicely (he's a barbarian airship pirate...).




Sounds perfect for Eberron, actually. And then it could be dinosaur-riding barbarian airship pirate. As barsoomcore said, everything's better with dinosaurs.


----------



## shilsen

This smaller room is apparently a laboratory, lit by a single crystal in the ceiling. An entire wall is full of racks, which seem to have grown out of the pink material of the wall. They contain jars full of organs, some of which (such as brains or hands) are recognizable to the Angels and others that they cannot identify. Against the opposite wall are a pair of large tables, which seem to have grown out of the floor, since they have the same color and consistency. Each has a groove on it, which runs partway down the legs and ends at a tongue-like protuberance. One table supports the torso of what is a large human or hobgoblin, though it is difficult to say because there is no head or anything below the waist. Patches of a pale gray fungus grow on many parts of it and the left hand is missing, having a hook-shaped bone in its stead. The far wall, between the one with the racks and the one behind the tables, has three small sphincters, ranging in width from two to four feet in width. In the far corner is a small pool, two feet in diameter with a parapet that is three inches wide and high. 

After waiting for a few seconds, the adventurers enter the room and begin to examine its contents. Nameless notices that there are a number of symbols on the parapet of the pool. It is apparently a word in daelkyr repeated four times, but neither Trillia nor he have heard the word before. While he is making a note of it, he notices that the fluid in the pool, which is glutinous and an off-white in color, is bulging upwards. Nameless calls a warning and steps away.

As they watch, the raised part of the liquid forms a face. It is Nameless', but deformed with the addition of a couple of strange protuberances. When Six moves closer to look at it, Nameless' face disappears and is replaced by his, along with the same extra features. 

“Any idea what this is?” asks Six.

Nameless and Trillia exchange quizzical glances and reply simultaneously, “No.”

Six looks back at it and after a moment, says, “I think it’s whispering! I hear something.”

“Somehow I doubt it’s saying anything important,” says Gareth, scanning the room with his _detect evil_ ability and not picking up anything.

“Guess so,” says Six. He looks at the sphincters and readies his pole. “You might all want to step back. I’m going to check what is in there.”

When he pokes the first and smallest one, it splits open horizontally and extends a tongue-like tray, which seems like a less animated version of the appendage that attacked Gareth. The tray holds a variety of gleaming tools, which seem to be for a combination of surgery and torture. Trillia points out a couple which are easy to identify, as well as some which have no immediately evident function. She takes a few, as do some of the others. A little push sends the tray back into the sphincter, which closes.

Six moves on to the second one, which extends a similar but larger tray. Lying on it is what appears to be a sleeping or unconscious goblin, or if not that then a dead and amazingly well preserved one. The only thing unusual about it is a series of lines along the side, running from head to toe. Six cautiously pokes it with the pole, which slips between a couple of the lines to reveal that the goblin is not only dead but has been sliced longitudinally. More careful examination shows that the slices are incredibly fine, very close to each other, and run all the way through to a couple of inches from the right side. 

Moments after they discover this, Nameless gives a partly smothered laugh. The rest look at him curiously. “What?” 

“I just worked out what it is. Observe!” Nameless inserts a finger into a slit and, with a little effort, flips the upper half of the goblin open, so that everyone can see a perfectly preserved cross-section of all its internal organs. Along with amusement, there is a note of sincere admiration in his voice. “It’s a reference goblin! You flip it open like a book and can check the anatomy, starting near the surface and going as deep as you want to!” 

There is a moment of shocked silence and then Trillia gives a loud guffaw, while Luna growls her disapproval. A scowling Korm says in a growl scarcely softer than Luna’s, “That is not right!”

Checking shows that the last sphincter contains a similarly preserved and dissected hobgoblin. After examining the two for a bit, which is undertaken mainly by Nameless and Trillia, neither of whom is bothered by the discovery, and Six, who has never had such a good view of humanoid anatomy, the group prepares to leave.

“Hold on,” says Nameless, awkwardly wrestling the goblin corpse off the table, “I’m taking this one along.”

“Oh, come on!”

“What? Does leaving it here improve things for it? It might be useful.” Nameless grins at a thought and adds, “Besides, if we ever run into another damn gninja, all I have to do is produce this and tell it what the aberrations have been doing to its family, and it’ll be too pissed off with them to bother us.”

“That theory,” says Six, “Is quite a good one if we’re showing them a sculpture or picture of what the aberrations here have been doing. While we are carrying around our own ... um, reference goblin? Not so much, I think.”

Nevertheless, Nameless persists in wanting to take it along, and nobody really protests. While he is squeezing it into his _bag of holding_, Six moves to the pool, carrying one of the dissection tools. Ignoring the face that appears in its surface, he dips the tool into it. He has to exert a little pressure to push through the surface, which is like a thicker version of skin on milk, below which is a gelatinous, similarly colored fluid. After holding the tool in there for a few seconds, Six pulls it out, to see that it has a coating of liquid. As he watches, the liquid solidifies into what looks suspiciously like flesh.

“Hey, look at this,” he says, and explains what just happened. 

Nobody seems particularly keen on experimenting with the pool’s flesh-growing properties and they leave, Six dropping the tool along the way. Re-entering the larger chamber, where a few of them are again affected by the crystal induced depression, they walk up to the large sphincter, which opens to reveal a forty foot long tunnel, which ends in a chamber fifteen feet deep, the far wall of which is made of a white substance.

The group proceeds to the chamber, which they discover to be thirty feet wide. They also discover that the white substance is a thick membrane, which spans the entire thirty feet. Six carefully pokes it with his pole, trying to see if it is attached at the sides, which it is. As he is doing so, everyone hears the sounds of large feet shuffling forward behind the membrane.

Weapons are quickly drawn and spells readied, with everyone except the alienists lining up near the membrane to attack the first thing that comes through it. As they ready themselves, there is the sound of rushing feet and a number of things tear through the membrane. Two of them are large lance-like objects, but seeming to be made of bone, one of which bites into Luna's shoulder and another into Korm's side. Beside each one comes a large arm topped by a large knob of bone, as big as the head of a greatclub, which smashes down on Luna again and on Gareth.

The attacks tear large rents in the membrane, revealing a singular quartet of enemies. The larger pair seem to be bugbears, but each of which has been drastically modified. Parts of them have evidently been cut out and stretched and/or expanded, with pieces of metal and sections of flesh grafted onto them to increase their size, until the creatures stand as tall as and even broader than ogres. Each also has an extra arm fused onto its chest, and all three arms end in a large knob of bone, which is evidently usable as a club. Perhaps the strangest part of the creatures, however, are the large lumps of flesh shaped like saddles that grow out of their backs. On each ‘saddle’ is what was originally a goblin, but similarly increased in size. Like the bugbears, they have no hands either. The left arm ends in a large bony plate that fulfils the function of a shield, while the right arm ends at the elbow, above which is a long and pointed bone-spear. All four creatures have no clothing, but each has a series of thick, bony plates growing out of their torsos, which presumably function as armor. 

Once the surprise of the attack through the membrane and of the sight of the strange attackers is past, they do not last long. Six leaps in to curl his spiked chain around one rider's throat and pulls back to rip its throat open, and Gareth takes the opportunity to decapitate it. Barely a second later, Trillia drops a _glitterdust_ that blinds the mount which just lost its rider as well as the surviving goblin, leaving it defenseless when a bleeding and angry Luna rears up and seizes it in claws and fangs. The giant bear rears back and literally rips away the upper half of the goblin.

Nameless _summon_s his famed wall of beef to join the fight, three pseudonatural bison joining Korm and Luna in hammering on one of the modified bugbears. It manages to slay one bison before going down under the combination of attacks, which allows everyone to focus on the other and drop it. Besides the crushing blows of their multiple arms, both creatures also display a vicious and poisonous bite before going down, but luckily for the adventurers the ones bitten are Luna and Gareth, one of whom is immune to all venom and the other protected with divine resistance*. 

With the creatures dealt with, the adventurers check the area. The chamber is square, with membranes blocking off two walls, one of which the group entered through. To its right is the second membrane. Once they are on this side, they see that the membrane is mostly transparent from this side. Behind the membrane is an area that exactly matches the one the group came through, with a tunnel leading off into darkness. The next wall (opposite the one the group entered from) has a tunnel that runs for thirty feet before turning left. The one wall with no exit has two large alcoves, each large enough to hold a rider and mount. 

Trillia, who has been checking the alcoves, says, “These things have a pair of sucker-like tubes sticking out. See?” 

Nameless, who has been studying the malformed creatures, walks over and says, “And all of them have a similar thing growing out the back of the neck.” 

“I’m guessing that they provide some sort of sustenance,” says Trillia. She points around the area. “There’s nothing here to show that they were living here or had anything to occupy themselves, after all.” As the others join them, she asks, “Anyone feel like sticking a hand in there to see what it does?”  

“No!” 

The discussion is interrupted as a humanoid figure appears where the thirty foot long tunnel enters this chamber. Humanoid only below the neck, that is. Two cold white eyes gaze at the adventurers from a bulbous face covered in rubbery, greenish-mauve skin, which glistens with slime. Below the eyes, the face consists of four long tentacles, which make a nauseatingly slurping sound as they rub against each other.

It doesn’t take the expertise of the two alienists of the Gatekeeper to identify the creature looking at them.

_Mindflayer!_

*** i.e. a +17 Fort save


----------



## shilsen

The mindflayer lifts a long-fingered hand, palm forward, and all of the adventurers hear a voice in their heads, which says calmly, _“Please, do not be alarmed. I simply wish to know - who are you and why have you entered my home?”_ Not only do they all realize that the creature's telepathy is translating its language to one they can understand, but they realize they can hear each other telepathically too, as evidenced when everyone hears Luna’s unintentionally transmitted thought, _“Aargh! Get out of my head!”_ 

The mindflayer doesn’t respond to her thought and there is a long pause, as everyone seems to wait for someone else to reply. Gareth, while waiting, _detects evil_ on it and is mildly surprised to pick up no such aura.

Finally, Six says aloud, “Actually, we were simply lost and happened to stumble in here and were wondering if you could show us the way out.” 

Everyone hears Trillia’s mental chuckle of amusement and Nameless, similarly amused, says with a deadpan expression, “Plus we were wondering if you could fill out a survey.”  

There is a telepathic sense of momentary confusion as Nameless speaks and then the creature responds directly to him, though the others can hear it, _“Master?”_ As it transmits the query, Nameless feels a blinding headache and a momentary gabble of incomprehensible speech inside the back of his skull, as if someone were talking very quickly and indistinctly right within his cranium. Nobody else, however, picks up on that particular phenomenon, which dies down almost instantly, along with the accompanying headache.

Not that they need to. Luna’s mental _“Oh - come ON!”_ is rendered unnecessary by her irritated growl, while Korm spins around to look at Nameless and go, “What?” Six and Trillia also look at him curiously, while Gareth, who had been about to silently _detect thoughts_ on the mindflayer does so on Nameless instead. The alienist resists the effect and immediately realizes that something tried to use magic on him, although with the lack of any evidence from Gareth and the current situation, he thinks it was the mindflayer.

Which, after a pause, transmits the equivalent of a telepathic shrug and a _“No. But as I was inquiri...”_

It never gets to complete the thought, since Luna, irritated by everything that’s going on, does what she does best - drops a _flame strike_ on the mindflayer. A column of roaring flame envelops it.

“Luna!”

With the immediate disappearance of the telepathic link, nobody can hear Luna's thoughts any more, but the bear's shrug and growl is eloquent. Even as she is responding, the flames disappear, revealing a completely unscathed mindflayer. Nameless notes the lack of any of the signs of a creature that resisted a magical attack, even one that was completely ineffectual, and realizes what’s wrong. “It’s an illusion!” he says urgently.

As soon as he speaks, the creature - or illusion - disappears. The adventurers immediately spread out, weapons drawn. Luna shuffles towards the area where the creature was and sniffs around, hoping to detect a scent, but there is no result.

Instead, she hears a soft rush of air as something flies by her, and then a creature appears in mid-air above the rest of the group. It is clearly _not_ a mindflayer.

The creature is twelve feet long, combining aspects of worm, octopus and insect. The pallid and gray body is wormlike in shape and covered in yellow slime. Six suckered tentacles protrude from it, each tipped with a multifaceted yellow eye, like that of a giant insect. Halfway up the body is a long, muscular protuberance ending in a sharp stinger. Its “head” consists of a fleshy sheath holding its mouth, which consists of a small, forked tongue between two hooked mandibles. Two ridges circle the top half of the body, each with four thin spidery arms tipped with tiny insectoid claws that almost look like miniscule humanoid hands. Seeming strangely out of place on this already aberrant form, attached to the opposite side as the stinger, is a bugbear-sized humanoid arm, which holds a greatsword.

As it appears, the adventurers feel a wave of supernatural fear wash over them. But with a combination of will, luck and the added resistance that Gareth's aura of courage provides those near him, each of them shakes it off.

Nameless and Trillia both recognize it as an avolakia, a rare species of aberration, and yell advice to their companions about its strengths and weaknesses even as they back away and hurl spells at it. The others chop away at it, and though the slime-covered body is much better armored than it looks, it is quickly bleeding a pale green fluid. Gareth especially does substantial damage, calling upon the Silver Flame to _smite_ it powerfully. 

The avolakia, however, is not seriously hurt, and it clearly has many weapons at its disposal. As Six slashes it with his spiked chain, it gabbles the words of a spell in a surprisingly tinny voice. A tentacle of electricity leaps from the middle of its chest to shock Six even as he is leaping out of range. The spell, which neither Nameless nor Trillia have seen before, is cast in daelkyr and they note method and effect for later study.

Their enemy follows up the spell with multiple physical attacks. While the attached arm hacks away powerfully, it bites with its mandibles at one target and strikes with the stinger at another. Gareth, having inflicted the biggest wound, is its primary target and he goes down in a bleeding heap, while Luna and Korm are also wounded.

The creature then flies upwards, hovering near the ceiling, out of each of most of the attackers. Trillia hits it with an orb of ice, but it ignores the minimal effect. Korm, unable to reach it, reaches down and casts his most powerful healing spell on the unconscious paladin. A gleaming yellow-green cocoon of energy surrounds Gareth, hiding him from sight. Luna, who had been about to do the same, rears up and claws at the avolakia, a claw sliding off its carapace, and snarls her anger.

The adventurers hear a wordless telepathic chuckle of pleasure at their frustration, but the avolakia has no real idea about their capabilities. Nameless steps back and says, “You really shouldn’t celebrate that early,” and then _dispel_s the spells on it. Which includes the _fly_ spell keeping it aloft.

The avolakia crashes to the ground*, a telepathic ejaculation of shock barely registering on those around it as they swarm it envelop it with a hail of blows and spells. Critically wounded, the avolakia rears upright, trying to activate one of its many abilities and flee. A split second before it successfully does so, Korm brings down his sword. Specifically enchanted against aberrations, it strikes right between the mandibles and splits its “head” in two.

As the creature thrashes in its death throes, everyone hears a confused, “What the heck happened to me?!” from Gareth inside the cocoon. A second later, the cocoon falls apart and disappears, leaving him completely healed. Korm says, “Relax! I just healed you - and killed this thing.”

* I house-ruled away the “float down if dispelled”  


*Handled over email:*
Once they are sure the avolakia is dead (and Gareth emerges from Korm’s _rejuvenation cocoon_), Trillia casts a _detect magic_. She says that the only magical thing is the faintly magical greatsword that was being wielded by the arm grafted to the creature’s chest, its hand still locked around the hilt. Now that they have time to examine it, the adventurers note that the sword is of a purple metal, probably byeshk, which overcomes the damage reduction of many aberrations. It’s clearly of antique Dhakaani manufacture and worth more than normal to a collector. 

At this point, the top of the avolakia’s tongue detaches, crawls out of its mouth and begins to slither along the ground. It’s about four inches long, red and the front half is forked. 

Luna quickly puts a huge paw down on the slithering tongue, pinning it to the ground, where it wriggles futilely. 

“Don't damage it,” says Trillia, kneeling quickly to extract it from beneath her paw. The tongue stops writhing around when she picks it up and she casts another _detect magic_. 

After concentrating for a while, she says, “It detects of faint evocation. Must be a symbiont. They’re a unique kind of creature created by the daelkyr, which attaches to another creature and provides it certain abilities. They work a little like magical items, so I might be able to _identify_ it later with a spell. Nice catch, Luna.” 

She concludes, "One of you want to grab that sword?"

Luna picks the sword up in her mouth, only to discover that the hand remains clasped tightly around the hilt. A little shaking and pulling does nothing to loosen it. It’s almost as if it was glued on. Trillia, having put the ambulatory tongue in a small glass bottle, looks across and chuckles. “Maybe one of you guys with hands right now should help her?”

Examination reveals that the hand is firmly attached and can’t be pried off. It does look like the fingers were actually glued shut around the hilt, or the equivalent thereof. It doesn’t, however, take much effort to sever the hand at the wrist, giving the group a greatsword with an attached hand. 

As the sword is being stowed away, Trillia says, “Speaking of returning to town, how are the rest of you resource-wise? I'd like to check where the avolakia came from.” She points down the tunnel where the mindflayer-illusion had appeared, "Before we leave this place."

After a little discussion, the group decides to continue. With Luna having picked up the rancid, oily scent of the avolakia coming from the tunnel that the mindflayer appeared at, they proceed down it. The tunnel runs thirty feet before turning a corner to the left, and then another thirty feet before ending at another sphincter. The group finds nothing untoward along the way and when Six walks up to it, the sphincter slides open, revealing a chamber beyond.

The rancid, oily scent is much stronger here. From the entrance, the chamber seems to be made up of two parts, the wall to the left bulging out in a rounded protuberance to provide a partial divider. The walls are rounded, with no straight lines. The room is lit by a ceiling crystal like the ones they’ve seen, but smaller, giving off a diffuse yellow light. It seems like there’s one in the further half of the room too.

The left wall, including the protruding section, is decorated with numerous objects, some hanging on the wall and some placed along it. Those that they can see are probably of Dhakaani manufacture. The right wall, which makes a long curve, has no such decorations on or before it, but stands totally bare and has a translucent sheen that the rest of the room lacks. There is some large structure in the further half of the room, part of which can be seen around the dividing curve. One can’t say what it is from the doorway, other than that it seems to be of the same pinkish material as the walls and ceiling. 

When they enter, they see that there are more decorations like the ones seen from the doorway. Seeming out of place among them is what looks like the head of another avolakia, which hangs on the wall near the entrance.

The smell is strongest in the further half of the room. Walking in there, they see more of the structure that they partly saw from the doorway. It is about ten feet long, consisting of oddly shaped lumps and protuberances, with spikes and bladelike surfaces. Right in the middle is a large sucker like ‘mouth,’ similar to the ones saw in the alcoves (which Trillia theorized were some way of sustaining the modified goblins and bugbears). The smell is strongest on the structure.

Leaning against the structure is what looks like a petrified humanoid arm with curved fingers. Near that, in a small holder, is a foot long ebony rod, topped with a bird skull and artificial feathers. 

But what really draws the group’s attention is on the wall next to the structure. A naked hobgoblin is spread-eagled on the wall, held five feet off the ground by large strips of the pink wall material that have grown over its arms or legs. Or as much of its arms and legs as are left, since they have been amputated at elbow and knee. As has whatever genitalia it had, since there is only a pale patch of skin there. Its body is unusually pale and completely hairless. Besides the pink material holding it there, it is also connected to the wall by two similarly pink tubes that emanate from the wall, one leading to the back of its neck and one leading behind its buttocks. 

Red lines of horizontal tattoos cover the entire torso, starting at the top of the chest and continuing down to the groin. Similarly colored scrawlings are on the wall on either side. The creature’s eyes are closed and its head hangs forward on its chest. After the first couple of seconds, they realize it must be unconscious or sleeping, since it is breathing, though very softly.

The two alienists can read the tattooing without much difficulty. It’s in daelkyr, and seems to be notes about what it calls the “changing pools” (which they guess are the three pools with the creatures in them). It refers to eight subjects from the breeding pens that have recently been introduced into the pools. 

The scrawls on the walls on either side are individual words: Forward; Back; Up; Down; Larger; Smaller; Notes; Experiments; Supplies; History; Miscellaneous; Magic; Record; Erase.

The feathers are also carved ivory painted black. Looking at the rod, Nameless recognizes it as a Raven Skull Rod, a particular type of long-distance communication device that the Dhakaani made, and sometimes still make. The user can speak into one and the message emanates from another that it is linked to (they’re usually constructed in batches of 2-5). 

Nameless is explaining the above to the rest of the group when they all notice something changing about the long curved wall which makes up one entire side of the chamber (i.e. the wall without the protuberance) and has no decorations placed anywhere near it. 

The wall is swiftly turning more translucent and then glassy, reflecting the rest of the room in its surface. Along with the room it reflects all of the group, but with significant changes. Each and every one of them is reflected as malformed in some very obvious way. Six, for example, has large tentacles instead of arms, each topped with a writhing snakelike head. Luna still appears in bear form, but the center of her back has a foot-wide fleshy growth, covered in a mixture of scales and pustules. And so on.

Except for Nameless, who is reflected just the same as normal.

Looking in wonder, Gareth doesn’t see what he expected. “This is interesting,” he says a little worriedly, “I wonder what is causing this. And more importantly, what will happen.” He then averts his eyes from the image, remembering stories about magical mirrors that take action when you stare into them. 

Trillia (whose reflection happens to have four eyes, all of them on tentacles) looks at the wall with interest and casts a _detect magic_. After a few seconds of concentration, she says, “Hmm - it’s not an illusion. I’m picking up a conjuration ... wait, make that a strong conjuration aura all along the wall.”

While she is concentrating and then speaking, a twenty-foot wide circular section in the middle of the wall begins to darken, while the area beyond that begins to turn yellow. As it does, the wall becomes less reflective and more translucent, with the result that the reflections gradually fade away.

Luna growls her disquiet and cranes around as far as she can to check whether she actually has anything growing out of her back. She is not apparently changed in any way, and as far as she (or anyone else) can make out, neither is anyone else. After having checked that she’s not morphing into something strange, Luna gives a growl that (linked with the expression on the bear’ face) is as eloquent as a string of swear words.

Six, meanwhile, first pokes the word that Nameless said is “History” with his pole. There is no response, and after waiting for a few seconds, he turns and pokes the large wall with it. When he does so, he feels just the slightest bit of give, as if it were not completely hard.

While Six is doing the above, the result of the change in colors on the wall becomes evident. The central black portion is now a huge pupil, twenty feet in width, while the yellow area around it forms the iris. The long wall is now spanned by a fifty-foot long eye.

Luna sniffs at the changing wall and doesn’t smell anything different about it, so she presumes there’s not actually a creature coming through it. Nevertheless, she growls at it in warning.

While she is doing so, the eye begins to shrink, giving the watchers a sense that it is due to an increase in distance. As it does, they all see that it is surrounded by a pale gray expanse of flesh, with creases in it that are as long as some of them are tall. Within seconds, the eye is half its original size, but it still stretches twenty-five feet in length. 

Then it stops, and swivels slightly, seeming to notice the room and all of the adventurers. The eye focuses, and all of them have a sense of a gigantic mind focusing on you. It is not malign or inimical in any way; it is just totally and utterly alien to their conception of reality - and very mildly curious. For a moment, each of them realizes exactly what a butterfly (admittedly, a very intelligent butterfly) feels like in the seconds before an infant pulls its wings off to see what happens. The overriding emotion for them, even for Nameless and Trillia (who have studied alternate realities but never experienced it in such close proximity), is a combination of utter fascination and complete awe.

Luna shakes off the feeling and looks around to see that everyone else is standing stock-still and motionless, staring at the wall. After a couple of loud growls evince no response, she hurriedly drops a _dispel magic_ in the area, hoping to remove whatever it is that affected her companions. The spellcasting has no visible effect, her companions still remaining spellbound. 

Noticing motion on the wall, Luna looks back to see that the eye is simultaneously moving away and sliding by, as if the wall were a giant window through which the group were looking out at the creature, whatever it is. As the eye passes by, the wall’s color and texture begins to fade back to its original translucence. There is a brief vision of a gigantic bulk and waving tentacles more than a dozen feet across, and then the vision fades, leaving just the bare pinkish wall.

The rest of the group feels the fascination effect wear off suddenly and are back in control of their faculties. Trillia shakes her head and then quickly walks up to the wall to touch it. Then she looks back at Nameless and says excitedly, “Is it just me or did we just get a glimpse into Xoriat?”


----------



## shilsen

Luna switches back to her normal form and asks Trillia, “Should we try to destroy the wall?”

“No, I don’t think there’s anything really special about the wall. I already checked and it’s not magical.” Trillia looks around at the rest, especially Nameless, and continues, “Remember my theory about there being a dimensional seal somewhere in Yarkuun Draal? The only reason there’d be one is if there’s a manifest zone to Xoriat here, in which case, the boundaries between Eberron and Xoriat are weaker here. Still, I wasn’t expecting to actually catch a glimpse of Xoriat itself.”

“Is that thing we saw, whatever it was, at all likely to end up here?” asks Six.

“Oh no! With Xoriat permanently sundered from Eberron by the magic of the Gatekeepers during the Daelkyr War, nothing can cross over between the two. This is as close as one can get. I’d heard of it, but never experienced it myself. Fascinating!”

After having ascertained that nothing similar is about to recur, the group moves around the chamber checking for anything hidden and collecting the Dhakaani artifacts. Examining the petrified hobgoblin arm that Korm is picking up, Nameless says, “I think that’s actually a backscratcher.”

“Really? I’m taking it anyway.”

“Maybe some collector might be interested in it,” says Luna.

“Do you really want to be doing business with a collector who likes mummified humanoid arms?”

Trillia, who has been examining the hobgoblin attached to the wall and murmuring the words written alongside, happens to say “Smaller” aloud in the original daelkyr. The tattooed writing on the hobgoblin’s torso immediately shrinks in size, more writing appearing at top and bottom to fill the extra space.

As the change occurs, the hobgoblin’s eyes snap open and it utters a gurgling scream. Trillia quickly steps away, but it shows no signs of having noticed her, continuing to scream. Korm promptly bats it on the head with the petrified arm, but that seems to have no effect even though it snaps the hobgoblin’s head sideways. After a couple of seconds, the screaming ends in a slack-jawed gasping, which reveals that its tongue has been nailed to the bottom of its mouth.

Carefully examining it, Trillia says, “It’s got to be an information storage device of some kind, with the writing stored in it accessible with those commands. But the changes torture it as well.”

“I can see how,” says Nameless. “I felt the tattoos. They’re like weals raised by a whip or burned by a hot iron. For the lettering to change, the old ones have to be removed and new ones appear.”

Trillia nods and adds, “The pain is quite possibly a serious benefit as far as the avolakia was concerned. Some aberrations consider the crafting of specific emotions, especially the traumatic ones, as an art form.”

“I’m really getting upset with these aberrations,” growls Luna.

“There’s a reason the Gatekeeepers exist,” says Korm, before turning to Trillia. “Can I put it out of its suffering?”

Trillia considers for a bit and says, “I’m sure there’s valuable information hidden within it, but accessing it would probably take hours of searching, and I’d be torturing it throughout. I’ll do without. You can go ahead.”

She steps away and Korm unsheathes his sword, steps forward, and splits the hobgoblin’s skull in two. He watches for a few moments to make sure that it is dead, and is as assured that it’s so by the slow fading away of the writing on its chest as by its lack of breath or movement.

The others have already stripped the room of whatever might be valuable, and the group leaves the chamber. After a short discussion about the risks of continuing onwards, they decide to continue a bit further. 

Returning to the chamber where the corpses of the avolakia and the malformed goblins and bugbears still lie, the Angels head down the one tunnel they have not explored. At the next turn, the tunnel switches from the pink, apparently living material, to the stone of the city and the plateau. After another turn, the tunnel travels over two hundred feet without any openings or doorways.

The first thing that breaks the monotony of the stone is a wide archway on the right wall of the tunnel (which continues onwards), which has been bricked in. There are carvings in daelkyr on it, which read ‘Danger. Do not open.’

When Nameless translates, Korm says, “Something that the aberrations consider dangerous? That could be interesting.”

“Considering our current status, I’d rather not open this now,” says Nameless warily. “Maybe tomorrow, after we have all our spells available?”

“Actually,” says Trillia, “I was hoping not to return to this area again. I’d rather visit widely-spaced sections of the city, so that even when they find out we’ve been here - which I presume they’ll do soon enough - they won’t be able to trap us or prepare effectively enough to seriously endanger us.”

“Yeah,” says Luna. “Let’s check it out now.”

“After all,” says Korm, unsheathing his sword, “How bad could it be?”

“A sphincter farted on me and licked him,” says Six, indicating Gareth. “Don’t say things like that.” Gareth, who has been concentrating on the archway, nods and then says, “I don’t pick up any aura of evil, for what it’s worth.”

Korm uses his greatsword to chop through the bricked-up area, its unusual material easily reducing the wall to rubble, which Luna (back in bear form) pulls out of the way. After chopping through nearly a dozen feet, Korm breaks through into an open area. 

It is a short tunnel, fifteen feet long and ten feet wide, that opens into a large chamber, the far wall of which is nearly forty feet away from the tunnel’s end, and the floor of which is much lower than the tunnel’s. The entire area is lit by a pale green light that seems to have no evident source. 

Once everyone can see in, Nameless points at six glyphs set into the floor of the tunnel. “They’re inactive, but someone definitely wanted some protection here.”

Korm, having moved in a little further to allow the others to enter, points into the chamber and says, “Look.” Joining him, the others see that the large chamber’s floor is about ten feet lower. The far wall has an open doorway, revealing a tunnel that turns right. The chamber’s ceiling is thirty feet above the floor, with two large circular stone protuberances, like the bottom of a stone tube, both of which have also been sealed up. 

What draws their attention, however, is on the floor of the chamber. The entire floor is covered in bones. Humanoid bones, most of approximately human size, though some are slightly larger and many smaller. There must be tens of thousands of them, making the chamber a gigantic mass grave.

There is momentary silence, except for a continuous, low growl from Luna. Then Korm, who has been kneeling for a closer look, says, “Many of them are broken.” He is correct, with a large number of bones displaying fractures and breaks, with some being broken in half. 

Nameless, who has been studying the walls, points out that they are covered in writing to a height of about six feet. They seem to be in dried blood and are in goblin, written in multiple hands. 

Reading the sections nearby, the adventurers find them haphazard and disconnected, including things like dates (which are meaningless to the Angels), numbers, names, and even rough pictures. A constant thread is that they often break down into raving about the aberrations. 

“They probably just threw them in here and left them,” says Korm somberly. “But that doesn’t explain why it was blocked up with that message.”

“Let’s see what’s in the other room,” says Six, carefully poking into the bones with his extensible pole. “They’re a little over a foot deep.”

The group carefully descends, to a litany of cracks as they step onto the incredibly old and brittle bones. Korm decides to ride Luna, which she allows him to do. Trillia stops to read more, so the others do the same.

Now that they are closer and can read much more, they quickly pick up more of a narrative from the various scrawling. The writings say that this area is where the aberrations used to throw the old, weak, pregnant, and sick goblinoids, that is, those that were considered unfit for their experiments. They did not provide food and only a little water trickled in from the surface. Eventually, the desperate and ravenous goblinoids began to eat those that died. And when the corpses ran out, they turned to the living. The scrawls refer to the weaker ones being killed and eaten by the stronger, some of whom banded together. They speak of the smaller goblins dying first, and the larger bugbears being slain while sleeping. They refer to pregnant women delivering babies and having them snatched away and torn apart. Some of the portions that seem most rambling and raving speak of hearing voices and seeing lights. A entire section simply repeats, over and over again, “They’re not dead. They’re watching us. They want revenge.” Another, larger area, simply consists of endless scrawls of “Revenge, forgive, revenge, forgive, revenge, forgive.…” 

After having worked out what they can, there is little discussion as the group heads across the chamber, accompanied by the constant cracking sounds. They are halfway across the room when four spectral figures fly out of the floor around them. Each has a roughly humanoid form, though it ends in shapeless tatters. Each shape is made of a conglomeration of distorted faces that seem to be screaming soundlessly in agony, and constantly shifting and flowing around the creature’s body.

“Ghosts!” shouts Gareth, “I think.”

As he speaks, two of the ghosts raise their arms and a series of the faces shoot away from their bodies, trailing streams of incorporeal matter. The faces shoot into and through the bodies of the adventurers, causing a wave of supernatural terror to sweep over them, followed by a painful coldness.

Aided by the aura granted Gareth by the Flame, all of them shake off the fear and most resist the coldness, but Six feels it settle around him, strangely shaking his confidence.

Even as the Angels are striking back, the third ghost releases a single face, which flies into and through Gareth. The paladin feels it sap his strength as he swings Kizmet, only to find it pass harmlessly through his enemy.

Luna, rearing up and almost unseating Korm, similarly feels her claws pass through a ghost, but she manages to bite into it and rip away a mouthful of incorporeal matter. The hole she causes remains in the ghost, which lowers its arms and lets a number of the faces fall off it and sink into the layer of bones. A second later, they erupt from the floor, accompanied by an explosion of bone shards, many of which sink painfully into Luna. Korm, who has a few cut into his leg, dismounts awkwardly and swings at the ghost, with similar lack of luck. Six, trying to tumble past a ghost, almost falling flat on his face due to the layer of bones, and then seeing his chain swing harmlessly through a ghost, can sympathize.

Trillia too fails to affect them with a spell, but Nameless has better luck, a _slow_ spell affecting three of the ghosts, the flow of the faces over their forms clearly slowing, as do their overall movements. 

Moments later, all four of them move forwards into the bodies of the people before them. Nameless, Korm and Six all feel a momentary darkness envelop them and then each has a fleeting vision of the chamber, but now completely full of goblinoids, pushing and arguing with each other. Accompanying the vision is  a distinct impression of seeing through someone’s eyes, overlaid with emotions of pain, fear and hunger. 

Then the three manage to reassert their wills, sending the ghosts spilling back out of their bodies. Gareth, the fourth target, is warded by a _protection from evil_ that he put up just before entering the chamber, and the ghost that attacks him simply hits the barrier and bounces off.

The incorporeal nature of the ghosts is what draws the fight out, with many powerful blows failing to affect them, but they are not very resistant to the damage that gets through, and the Angels soon dispatch them. 

Gareth shakes his head, feeling his thoughts slowed by another draining attack he was hit with, “That wasn’t fun.”

Trillia, a little paler after having suffered a slightly different one, says, “I wonder if that’s what they were trying to keep in here.”

“One way to find out,” says Six, heading for the doorway.


----------



## shilsen

Six proceeds into the tunnel, noting as he does that it is completely clear of bones, even though it is on the same level as the floor of the previous chamber. Luna follows behind him, barely squeezing her bulk through the tunnel. 

Looking around the turn, Six looks into a chamber that is smaller than the previous one and seemingly empty. Though it is also lit by the sourceless green light, he notices a faint tinge of red to the right. After telling the others what he sees, Six carefully looks in, to see a column of red light against the right wall. As he watches, the column collapses in on itself and takes the form of a wraithlike hobgoblin in spiked armor. 

Belying the martial and muscular form, the face is that of an elderly woman. As the figure steps forward, its face changes to that of a child, then an old man, then a youth, and continues to morph as it advances. 

“Ethereal red hobgoblin coming your way!” calls Six urgently to the others, before quickly stepping into the room and to the side. Dropping his pole and readying his spiked chain, he says to the advancing figure, “Hello?”

The wraithlike hobgoblin ignores him and steps into the tunnel. Luna, with no real option for turning around, sniffs as it reaches her, but smells nothing. Without a pause, the hobgoblin steps into and walks through her, giving Korm, whose view of the tunnel is mostly blocked by her bulk, the amusing sight of half a spectral red hobgoblin sticking out above the bear’s back and advancing on him.

As it enters her, Luna is overwhelmed by a wave of absolute rage, so strong that she momentarily cannot see anything beyond the red haze of fury that clouds her vision. Her snout wrinkles as she snarls, causing Six to momentarily think that the hobgoblin is damaging her in some way. But as the wraithlike figure leaves her body, the emotion switches off as if it had never been. Korm, backing away into the bone-filled room, is barely touched as it brushes by and momentarily experiences the fury she did. 

The hobgoblin ignores everyone and walks through the room, the bones not hindering its incorporeal stride. It steps into the wall beneath the entrance corridor. Even as a curious Luna backs out of the tunnel, the hobgoblin’s head appears through the floor of the corridor and rises in jerks, as if it was climbing a hidden staircase beneath the stone. It emerges completely as it reaches the doorway and then turns right.

Luna and Korm climb up and do likewise, to find it marching soundlessly down the corridor. They follow until it reaches the first turning, where it steps into the wall and does not reappear. Both check the wall and, finding no hidden doorways, return to tell the others what they saw.

Six, having searched the room the creature emerged from and found it completely empty, asks, “So what was that?”

“I don’t know,” says Korm, “But when it brushed by me I had this amazing rush of anger. I think I was feeling what it was.” Luna nods vigorously in agreement.

“It was some unusual form of undead, I presume,” says Trillia. “Probably formed as a byproduct of all these deaths.”

“Whatever it was,” says Nameless with a grin, “I’m guessing there are going to be some very surprised - and upset - aberrations when it reaches them. Pity we can‘t see that, but we should leave now.”

The others, however, want to check the end of the corridor they have been in before entering this chamber, and Nameless grudgingly agrees. Climbing out of the charnel chamber, the Angels proceed for a while before the tunnel ends at a closed door, through which they hear sounds of movement, along with some sloshing and squelching sounds, and high-pitched voices speaking in daelkyr. 

Opening the door reveals that it opens onto ten-foot square platform halfway up the side of a large chamber, with stairs leading down to a floor where a few dolgrims are moving and working. A couple of them are moving large vats on wheels, which hold huge piles of bloodied flesh and fat resembling the provisions found in the previous dolgrims’ chamber. There are four doors leading out - two especially large ones, of which one is half-open, and two smaller closed ones. The loud gurgling sound emanates from beyond the half-open door, through which two more dolgrims emerge. They are carrying a huge ladle piled with more flesh and fat. 

The dolgrims fail to notice the new arrivals some fifteen feet above them, their first sign of trouble being the sight of Luna leaping through the air at them. By the time Nameless has dropped a web in the area, and Six and Korm have leaped down the stairs with weapons swinging, only a single terrified dolgrim is alive.

After Nameless dismisses his spell and begins to question the dolgrim, Luna and Six walk across to look through the half-open door. Luna shoves open the door, releasing a horrible stench of mingled blood, waste and disease, especially the former. 

The bulk of the square room beyond is taken up by what looks like a hobgoblin, except that it is ten feet tall and must weigh over two tons. The huge, corpulent creature is lying prone on its back on the floor of the chamber. The amount of meat and fat on it is incredible, hanging off in huge lumps. Its puffy eyes are almost hidden in the mounds of flesh around them. It is totally naked, except for a dark band around its neck, which has sunk deep into the fatty flesh. The pallid, blotchy skin is covered with sores. There are large wounds and gobbets of flesh missing from its body, blood leaking from them to the floor, which is covered with dried gore. Strangely, the wounds are gradually closing, flesh growing over them slowly.

The creature is attached to the wall by a pair of huge rusted chains, which end in large hooks that are buried in its flesh, which has grown around most of each hook. There are also two tubes that look like huge tentacles emanating from the walls, one extending into its rectum and the other around its penis. The only other thing in the room is a series of hooks on the wall, which hold cleavers and other implements, all caked with dried blood.

As Luna stares at the creature with a mix of horror and distaste, it turns its huge head slightly to look at her and makes a gurgling sound. The flesh around its arms and thighs ripples as it makes a futile attempt to move. With a disgusted snarl, Luna moves forward, thinking, _I should just put it out of its misery._

Behind her, Six closes the door and says, “We really don’t need to see that.”

The questioning of the dolgrim proceeds - and ends - very quickly. It is far too scared and confused not to answer questions, but has little information. All it can say is that there are “lots, many lots” of creatures like it, that it (and the other dolgrims) was collecting food for the others, and that its leader is a mindflayer called Naxaliyen. 

Luna, meanwhile, walks up to the hobgoblin’s head and lifts a clawed paw to smash its skull. As she is about to strike, the creature gives her a drooling smile and gurgles something happily in goblin (which she cannot understand). The action promptly triggers Luna’s mostly atrophied maternal instincts. _Awww!!!_

She decides to try to free it instead and walks over to one of the tubes. Grabbing the rectal in her teeth, she yanks powerfully*. It detaches with a popping sound and sends a stream of semi-liquid feces across the room. Luna restrains her gag reflex and does the same to the other tube, adding a significant quantity of urine to the mix.

This is the moment when Six reopens the door, having asked Trillia to translate the creature’s speech for them. Poor Trillia is standing right next to the door when he does and is simultaneously assaulted by the sight and the smell from the room. She staggers away, turning green and barely managing to keep from vomiting.

“By the moons!” says Korm, standing nearby, “What are you doing, Luna?”

Luna gestures for the others to join her, but nobody complies. Nameless, having ordered the dolgrim to sit in the corner and tie itself up (which it promptly, if vainly, attempts to do), shakes his head and says, “You’re insane! And believe me, I should know.”

After some persuasion, Trillia finally agrees to do so, but only after Gareth loans her his _ring of adaptation_ and having cast a _fly_ spell so that she can stay near the ceiling. The hobgoblin gurgles something as she nears its head. She turns and translates, “It said, ‘Cut me. Please cut me.’ Let me just say - whaa…?” She takes another look, this time peering into the creature’s beady eyes and says, “Speaking of insanity, I think this thing is too.” Looking around the chamber, she says, “I can see why.”

Luna transforms back into a shifter so that she can speak and proceeds to argue that they should free the creature and take it with them. While the others are arguing with her, Korm grows a pair of wings and flies into the room too. Casting a _detect magic_, he picks up auras of conjuration and transmutation magic from the band around the hobgoblin’s neck.

Flying down, Korm grimaces as he forces his fingers into the puffy flesh of its neck and around the band. As he pulls, it comes away easily in his hand. For a moment, he thinks that it is a large black band of some leathery material, until it suddenly turns around and attempts to wrap around his wrist. A startled Korm quickly grabs it in both hands, and it wriggles weakly in his grasp. “This thing’s alive!” He holds it in one hand and retrieves the petrified hobgoblin arm, and then places the band on it, which promptly wraps around the arm.

“It must be another of those symbiotic things,” says Luna, pointing at the wounds. “See, they’ve stopped healing. That’s what must have been healing them. Those bloody aberrations were cutting it, healing it, and cutting it again! Poor thing!”

“Stop saying ‘poor thing’!” snaps Nameless exasperatedly. “And we can’t take the damn thing with us. It can’t even walk!” He looks around and says, “All right - I’m going back to camp. Who’s with me?”

After a little more argument, Luna grudgingly agrees that the only option is to mercifully kill the creature. Korm draws his sword and steps up to the creature’s head. He hacks at its throat, but the layers of meat and fat absorb the impact of the blow, turning it into a shallow wound.

To Korm’s horror and those of the onlookers, the hobgoblin gurgles in glee as he strikes. It mumbles, “Aah, yes, cut me, cut me again, yesssss!” As it gasps and gurgles in evident pleasure, spasming and writhing in place as much as its bulk allows, Trillia says in a horrified whisper, “Is it just me, or did that thing just have an orgasm?”

Realizing there is no other real way to do it, Korm places the sword’s blade against the creature’s throat and saws into its throat. The hobgoblin continues to writhe and gurgle with glee as he cuts deeper and deeper. Finally, Korm hit’s the veins and arteries, sending blood jetting across the room. As the blood pools, the creature’s movements gradually slow and end as it bleeds to death.

Korm staggers from the room and the group barely pauses to dispatch the unfortunate dolgrim, which had actually managed to dislocate two of its arms in an attempt to tie itself up, before teleporting out of the chamber and back to the oasis they had camped at.

“I can’t believe what I just had to do,” says Korm, with a shudder.

“And I can’t believe I don’t have an _acid orb_ spell prepared so that I can cast it on my eyeballs,” says Trillia. 

“And I wish I knew a spell to wipe out the last five minutes of my memory,” says Nameless.

“Those bloody aberrations turned a hobgoblin into a permanent feast, turned it insane and made it a masochist!” snarls Luna, “I’m going to take that city down!”

“You’ll need an earthquake for that,” says Gareth. “You can’t do that yet, right?”

“Give me time,” says Luna grimly.


* First in-game moment where a player told me, "I unplug his butt"


----------



## ajanders

My work here is done.
Consider yourself repaid for the creation of Ardith's fiancee.

aja


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> My work here is done.




Thanks, AJ. The concept worked out great in play, mainly because Luna's player decided to be kind to the hobgoblin. And I think the most disturbing aspect of it for the players was the masochism.



> Consider yourself repaid for the creation of Ardith's fiancee.
> 
> aja




Who/what was Ardith's fiancee? It sounds familiar but I can't place it.


----------



## ajanders

Ardith's fiancee?
Wizard, tall fellow, sticks to ceilings, somewhere in Eberron?  Turns into a cube of jelly 40 feet on a side when grappled?

And regarding the grappling: Ow.


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> Ardith's fiancee?
> Wizard, tall fellow, sticks to ceilings, somewhere in Eberron?  Turns into a cube of jelly 40 feet on a side when grappled?
> 
> And regarding the grappling: Ow.



 Aha! Actually I'd mentioned using a jelly/ooze to John, but having the wizard turn into one was all his doing. 

The rakshasa and the goblin ninja, however? That you can thank/blame me for.


----------



## ajanders

The rakshasa was not too bad.
Sadly, I couldn't give the goblin ninja the attention he deserved.
Ever read Man After Man?


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## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> The rakshasa was not too bad.




I think John may have been a little nicer with him than need be, and I believe he screwed up a little on the Walls of Force I suggested (they were supposed to be ceiling to floor, not have gaps above them), but it made a nice enemy. Rakshasa sorcerers are fun. Maybe I'll find a way to use one on my PCs sometime.



> Sadly, I couldn't give the goblin ninja the attention he deserved.
> Ever read Man After Man?




No, but the name sounds familiar. What's it about?


----------



## shilsen

*Enter the Snookums*

Once they begin to pay attention to the camp, the Angels notice that someone or something has been in it, though there are absolutely no tracks entering or leaving. It takes longer to realize that the dead runehounds are just beginning to smell, probably because everyone’s olfactory faculties have been blasted by the recent experience. Six suggests that they move to another of the omnipresent oases and they do so, moving to one half a mile to the northeast.  

A few hours later, after they have cleaned off as much as possible and are resting and discussing the day’s experiences, they are interrupted by the _raven skull rod_. Its eyes glow with a blue light and it screeches harshly for a few seconds. Then the beak moves and it begins to speak in a harsh whisper. The words are in goblin. “If you vermin hear this, know that I shall find and make fodder of you. Speak ‘nightfall’ and reply, if you dare.”

Trillia, who had the rod lying by her bedroll, looks around and asks, “Should we reply?”

After a quick discussion, the group decides to reply and assume that the speaker is the Naxaliyen they were told of, hoping that will surprise him. Trillia begins, “Nightfall,” as instructed, to access the linked _rod_, and then says, “Naxaliyen, can we set up a meeting and discuss points of interest to both of us?”

There is no response for a couple of minutes and then the rod speaks again. “How do you know me? What do you want? You are not Dhakaani, correct?” Though the voice is fixed for the rod and effectively expressionless, the Angels get a sense of uncertainty.

After some more discussion, now beginning to turn to laughter and giggling as they try to increase the confusion, the group replies, “We have tentacles. Information. Not all of us. Give us magic and books where we want and we will leave.”

The pause this time is longer, and then the rod replies, “What in Xoriat are you? You are here to steal the treasures of Yarkuun Draal? The heart of the city is hidden from such as you.”

“Unless this Naxaliyen has another linked _rod_, that’s the last message he can send,” says Trillia. “Each one is only usable thrice a day.”

“So we get the last word?” asks Korm, beginning to grin broadly.

“Yes,” says Nameless, matching his smirk.

“Excellent,” says Six, pulling out a writing tablet. “Let’s make this a group effort.” He writes a word and hands it to the next person, who does the same, and passes it on. Soon, the final, awful message is complete. “We, the people, have a survey, in order to form a perfect union. So bend over, and kiss your own ass. Amen.”

Trillia looks at the tablet and laughs. “So this is what you want me to send?”

“Why not?” says Gareth. “At least now they’ll really have a reason to kill us.”

“Wait!” says Korm. “You said we can send 25 words at a time, right?”

“Yes. Why?”

“There’s space for two more. Give me the tablet.” He scribbles two words and hands it back. Trillia reads it and gives an explosive burst of laughter. This time it takes much longer to compose herself. “Love, Snookums? _SNOOKUMS?_”

“What?” chorus the others. After Trillia repeats herself, the entire group collapses in laughter. Finally, she manages to stop laughing long enough to send the message.

“You know,” she says afterwards, wiping away tears, “It’s been a while since I went adventuring, but I’m pretty sure it was never like this. Or like anything we did today. Did they change the rules, or are you bunch just insane?”

“No,” says Nameless, “It’s just us. We _are_ insane.” 

The group waits for a while to see if there’s any response, but there isn’t, so they proceed with preparations to turn in for the night.

Luna, who is very intrigued by the symbiotes asks if she can try one out. Trillia, who has taken the band Korm found and placed it in a box, says, “You really should let me identify them first.”

As Luna grudgingly agrees, Korm says, “Are you sure you want to risk using them? They are creations of the daelkyr.”

“Better to use them against the aberrations then, I think. If they help us defeat them, what‘s the harm?”

“That’s how it begins,” says Korm darkly. “But that is not how it may end.”

Then he grins and says, “That band probably makes you fat. You saw what it did to the hobgoblin meat factory we found.”

“I’ll risk it,” says Luna. “All the hair hides the fat, anyway.”

“Yes,” comments Gareth with a grin. “And that’s even more true when you wildshape.”

“Bite me,” replies Luna. “Or rather, let me bite you.”

***
Later that night, during the second watch, Six notices something large flit across the face of the moon Olarune. The creature, whatever it is, has a roughly humanoid shape and large batlike wings. 

As Six quietly points it out to Nameless and Trillia, both on watch with him, the creature flies lower and in a wide circle. It seems to catch sight of the translucent hemisphere that makes up the group’s shelter and flies cautiously closer, finally coming to a landing on the ground about fifty feet away.

As it takes a step forward, Nameless drops a _solid fog_ around it, while Six and Trillia wake the others. 

There is a startled cry from the creature, and then it speaks in a guttural tone, muffled slightly by the _fog_. “I am a messenger from Naxaliyen. Are you those who spoke to him?”

“Yes,” replies Nameless.

“May I enter and speak to you?”

“Sure.”

The creature emerges slowly from the _fog_ and makes its way to the edge of the _tiny hut_ and after a moment of obvious hesitation steps through. 

In the increased light within, it looks like a combination of a gargoyle and a goblin. Its forehead has three holes in it, a drop of green slime leaking from one, while a six-inch long pink tentacle emerges from another, moves back and forth as if testing the air, and then retracts.

“What the hell is that?” asks Luna.

“It’s had its brain partly drained by a mind flayer,” says Trillia, “Allowing it to be controlled from a distance.”

“Pretty,” says Korm, the distaste evident on his face.

“Well?” asks Nameless.

The creature stares silently at him for a moment and then closes its eyes. Unsure what it’s doing, Six flicks out his chain in readiness for battle. “What’s it doing?”

As he speaks, the messenger opens its eyes, which are now completely yellow and glowing softly. It speaks, in a voice that is now much smoother and lacking the guttural nature of its original speech, though accompanied by a soft gurgling sound that is oddly disquieting. “I am Naxaliyen.”

“Huh?!”

Unsurprised, Nameless explains to his companions, “The mindflayer can take control of the creature from a distance.” Turning to the creature, he says, “So - what do you want?”

The creature stands stock-still, with no physical movement other than its head and eyes, as if it were dead beneath the neck. Turning to look at Nameless, Naxaliyen replies, “Our earlier discussion was … unsatisfying. I wish to continue the conversation.”

“So how did you find us?”

“It was not ea…,” begins Naxaliyen, before quickly changing tack, “…as difficult as you may have thought.” The pause, and what he was in the process of saying, is duly noted by the Angels.

“So,” he continues, “What do you want in Yarkuun Draal?”

“As we said,” explains Nameless, “We are primarily interested in information and knowledge about the city. And exploring it. Call us tourists.”

Naxaliyen emits a gurgling laugh and says, “Tourists? I think not.” The laughter stops suddenly. “What of my people? Why did you slay them?”

“It was simple self defense,” says Six. “They attacked us and we defended ourselves.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“I am a paladin of the Silver Flame,” says Gareth, as if that were explanation enough.

Naxaliyen gazes at him for a moment and then says, “The Flame. Yes. I have heard of your little faith.” Turning away dismissively, he continues, “But you entered their lair.”

“So?” asks Six, “Maybe we just wanted to ask for directions.”

“You are humorous,” says Naxaliyen dryly. “Anyway, let that be. What do you want?”

There is a chorus of answers. “Information.” “Books.” “Artifacts.” “Magic.”

“Why should I give you this?” asks Naxaliyen. “Why should we not simply destroy you if you come to the city again?”

“Because you’d (a) have to catch us, (b) have to defeat us, (c) would lose many of your ‘people’, and most importantly, (d) would not get the information we can give you in exchange.”

“What information?”

Nameless says, “About the name we told you in our last message.”

There is a pause and then Naxaliyen asks, “Snookums? What is Snookums?”

“You must not speak that name,” says Nameless, with a deadpan expression. Luna and Trillia both begin to laugh but then barely stop themselves.

“Huh? Why not?”

“Because Snoo…,” begins Six, but Nameless slaps a hand over his mouth and says, “Silence. We do not speak the name.” Luna turns a slight shade of blue trying to keep from laughing and has to turn her back and wander away for a moment.

Naxaliyen is clearly a little confused, but continues, “So you have no interest in the heart of the city?”

The adventurers exchange glances. “No. What is it?”

“That is not necessary. All you need to know is that if you lie to me about this, I shall find you and destroy you.”

The discussion continues for a few minutes, with Naxaliyen finally agreeing to send the group a certain amount of information and artifacts from the city, in exchange for a combination of information about “Snookums” and the promise that the group will leave the area. He mentions the ‘heart of the city’ again, seemingly trying to get the adventurers to admit to some knowledge of it, even as he reiterates that it is protected from them. 

After the agreement is reached, Naxaliyen turns and looks at Korm. He looks the big orc up and down for a long moment and then says, “Are you a druid?”

Korm holds his gaze silently for a second longer than he had, and replies simply, “Yes.”

“Gatekeeper?”

“Yes.”

“And you are not here for the heart of the city? You will leave too?”

“No. I am simply here to protect my companions. And I shall leave with them.” _And I shall return with them when we choose to._

After another pause, Naxaliyen turns away. Looking around at everyone, he says, “I shall send you what I have promised. If you lie, or if your information is not valuable, you shall pay.” 

With that, the yellow light fades out of the creature’s eyes and it shakes its head. Without a word, it turns away and walks out of the _hut_, to take to the air. It depicts a wide circle in the air and disappears into the darkness, heading north.

“Well, that was interesting,” says Korm. “I wonder what this ‘heart of the city’ is about.”

“Maybe it’s that dimensional seal you think is here, Trillia,” says Six.

“I doubt it. If there is one, which I’m quite sure of now, the aberrations would want it destroyed, not protect it from us.”

“Maybe some aberrations don’t want them destroyed,” surmises Six. “If they’re destroyed then they return to Xoriat, right?”

“No, no,” says Trillia animatedly, settling down to explain. “If Xoriat becomes coterminous with Eberron again,  then the aberrations will transform Eberron to match their world. So it’s something that is a very positive outcome for them. Some scholars theorize that the daelkyr are actually less concerned about destroying the dimensional seals than most other aberrations, since they are immortal. Others, like mindflayers, for example, are not.”

“Interesting,” says Six. “Aberrations are … complicated.”

“That’s okay,” says Korm, tapping his sword. “This uncomplicates them very well.”


----------



## shilsen

*Handled over email between sessions:*

After discussing the ‘meeting’ with Naxaliyen a little longer, the alienists and druids turn in, with Gareth joining Six on watch. 

About an hour before dawn, Six sees movement in the moonlight. There are about a dozen human-shaped figures heading towards the camp, currently a little over a hundred feet away. 

Six quickly tells Gareth that they have intruders and then calls more loudly to awake the others. While they are arising, he grabs a _continual flame_ torch and hurls it in the direction of the figures, who had slowed slightly as he gave the alarm. The torch hits the ground some fifty feet from the edge of the magical enclosure the group is in, about thirty feet ahead of the figures. The torch is too far away to illuminate them clearly, but they seem to be armed and armored hobgoblins and perhaps a couple of bugbears. Some have bows in hand and raise them when the torch hits, but another waves them down. 

Luna, whose low-light vision helps her see more clearly in the torchlight and moonlight, can see that there are ten of them, two being bugbears. The one who waved the others down is female and looks a little older than the others. 

Nameless calls loudly, “So you are here to help us against Naxaliyen?”

The female hobgoblin turns to exchange some quiet words with one of the others, who seems to be disagreeing with her. Then she steps forward, until she is well-illuminated by the torch, which shows that she is middle-aged or older, with gray-streaked hair that hangs down in two long braids over her fine chain shirt. Unlike the others, she has no evident weapons on her besides a dagger at her belt.

She says aloud, “I cannot see you. Would you emerge from your shelter and speak to us?” Then there’s a slight pause and she adds, “Who is Naxaliyen and why do you need help?”

Nameless emerges from the shelter. “Ah, forgive me. We have encountered a number of your people, or what remained of them after they had been warped by the aberrations who rule Yarkuun Draal. I assumed you were here seeking our aid against them.”

The female hobgoblin steps forward and says, “Yes, we know you have been in Yarkuun Draal. And no, we had not come to ask for your aid, though that might be something to discuss later. We come to ask what you - and your companions - do in our land and in our ... our former, if you will ... city.” Her voice and manner are reasonably friendly and her tone is frankly curious. 

“We come seeking knowledge. There is much that was lost here and we wish to rediscover it. Also we have a survey for you to fill out.”

“Survey?” asks the female, clearly puzzled at that part of the response. 

A big male behind her, the one who’d said something to her, steps forward with a scowl. “So you come to loot and steal from the city?” 

Meanwhile, inside the spell hemisphere, Trillia says quietly to the rest, “Don't do anything impetuous. Especially you, Luna. We’re in no state to get into a fight now, with most of us out of spells.” She then steps out of the hemisphere to join Nameless. 

Korm also steps out of the shelter, groggily rubbing sleep from his eyes, half-naked but still wearing his big sword on his back. “I greet you. I am Korm’akhan,” he says in Goblin. “We need no help with Naxaliyen,” he says, glaring at Nameless, “For we have agreed to parlay peacefully and we will keep that oath.” Turning to the big male, he says, “We do not steal, and I must thank you for that accusation. Do you have others you’d like to make?” 

Nameless simply looks at Korm, taking mental notes of Korm’s apparent insanity in trusting a mindflayer and believing he has anything other than malicious intent.

Gareth walks out thinking, _What oath have we taken?_ He says, “My name is Gareth Byron Deneith, paladin and Sacred Exorcist of the Silver Flame. We are here to deal with this scourge, what we call from my land as mindflayers. Would you tell us your story?”

At Korm’s words, the big hobgoblin  steps forward, pulling out a heavy flail that he has had a hand on. As he does, the two bugbears heft the greatswords they carry, and a couple of the hobgoblins (there are six besides the two leaders) quickly nock arrows. The big male growls, “You are in my land, orc! Speak with res…,” but is cut off in mid-speech by the female, who barks, “Peace!” She quickly turns to him and speaks urgently and softly. It is very obvious that he is not happy with what she says but grudgingly agrees. He lowers the flail and the others follow suit.

She then turns back to the group and says, “Please, let us not be hasty. But I am forgetting my manners. I am Tuneer Dhakaan, dirge singer of Dhakaan. This,” she indicates the glowering but quiescent warrior, “Is Reskiit, one of the warchiefs of our tribe.” The Angels notice there is a little extra emphasis on the word ‘one,’ apparently more for Reskiit’s benefit than theirs. 

After what Gareth says is translated for her by Trillia, she says, “You must understand our wariness. This is a dangerous land, with the darkness that haunts the city stretching out around it. We have fought it since before your people came to these shores, as he,” she indicates Korm, “Can tell you. And your speech confuses me. Some of you speak of fighting the aberrations. But you, Korm’akhan, say that you have given oaths to parlay with them. You slew the runehounds from the city, did you not? But you let the flying beast from it enter your camp and leave peacefully. Do you oppose the aberrations or not?”

Gareth wonders, _Why, by the Silver Flame's grace, would he want to parlay with someone knowing he does nothing but offend them?_ While Tuneer is speaking with Korm and the others, Gareth _detects evil_ and then _detects thoughts_ on her. While doing so, he says, “We are against the aberrations, but sometimes we have the ability to choose when to fight. We had such an opportunity and that was not the time to fight. There is information they can provide us.” 

Meanwhile, Korm smiles and laughs heartily (not in a mocking manner, but one of camaraderie). “I give you my respect, Reskiit. My people have opposed the aberrations since the times when your ancestors built empires of tall cities, and we will continue to do so until all the humans’ cities crumble like all those that came before them. Make no mistake. But the flying creature came to speak, and we will meet with their messengers. Later we may slaughter them like diseased cattle, but I will not attack messengers I have promised to meet in peace.” He turns to the shelter. “Will you come eat and drink with us? We may yet chop each other into little bloody pieces, but first we must talk and break bread.” 

Listening to Korm try and lighten the situation, Gareth cringes as his laugh sounds like a mocking blow at the other warriors in the group. He also turns his head and raises a large eyebrow when Korm says, “We will continue to do so until all the humans’ cities crumble like all those that came before them.” _Yes_, he thinks, _I will have to speak with Korm later to see what his motivations are._

Gareth continues to concentrate and discovers that one each of the bugbears and hobgoblins are faintly evil, but neither Tuneer nor Reskiit are. When he reads her thoughts, he picks up intermingled emotions of curiosity, concern and hope. Her surface thoughts are - “These newcomers may be more than they seem. If they entered Yarkuun Draal and returned, they must be powerful. Perhaps they can aid us, but what do they really want? I hope Reskiit does not mess this up. I will speak to them. What if I‘m making an error? I must be careful about risking my people.”

Reskiit glares at Korm for a long moment when he finishes, and then the scowl slowly fades away and he laughs. He slides his flail back onto his belt and says, “And I give you my respect, Korm’akhan. You have honor. Dhakaani and Marcher have fought before and perhaps you and I will fight later, but your people know the aberrations as do mine. I shall break bread with you and we shall speak.” 

He looks at Tuneer and nods, before walking forward to clasp Korm’s shoulder in a traditional Dhakaani manner and head towards the shelter. The other goblinoids follow, though more warily and keeping a careful eye on the adventurers. 

Tuneer, who looks openly relieved, reaches into a pouch and produces what looks like a pebble with a green _continual flame_ on it. She turns to her right, raises it and moves it in a complicated manner. After a second, a similar light appears in the darkness approximately a hundred feet away, revealing the short figure of a goblin with a bow strapped to his back. As he covers his light, there’s a split second when you can still see his figure in the moonlight and then he disappears. “A scout,” says Tuneer in explanation, as she follows her companions.

When everyone is in the shelter, Reskiit and Tuneer take a seat, as do some of the others. Once they have done so, Tuneer says, “Now tell me, what exactly are you here for? I assume it is not only to gain things from the city, though I see you have found something there.” She points at the Raven Skull Rod, which lies next to Trillia’s bedroll.

Walking in the hemisphere Gareth speaks in an effort to belay her fears, using his best diplomatic behavior. “Please tell us what it is you would like. Not only from us, but of the situation you must deal with. We are not here to attempt to harm you or your people. In fact, we had no idea you or your people are here, but maybe we can help each other out.” 

Trying to relate a little about the group’s prowess, to let them know they are capable of helping, he adds, “We have taken down many powerful creatures in our time. This is not to say we cannot lose a fight, but we are confident we can help bring down these mindflayers, or at the very least hurt them significantly enough to make any innocent person’s life that much easier.”

Trillia, who hasn’t said much other than doing most of the translating, conveys Gareth’s message and then adds, “I hadn’t expected to meet you, but I knew there have been minor encounters with your people in these highlands and theorized that a Dhakaani clan existed here. I didn’t know whether you were descendants of the city’s original inhabitants or came here from elsewhere. I should also say that I’m the main reason that we’re here.”

She hesitates for a moment, and then continues, “I am what my people call an alienist” (she uses the word in Common, since there’s no goblin equivalent) “someone who studies the lore of the daelkyr and their minions. Please understand that I do not have any affinity to them or support them in any way, but simply find their knowledge of other realities and manipulation thereof interesting. I wished to see what lore we could find in the city and my companions are here to help and protect me, since I expected to have to battle the aberrations, as we have. Since these activities are costly, I hoped that we would also recover some valuable artifacts and magic items. We are not simple looters, though I can see that the distinction is a little difficult.”

Some of the goblinoids look a little uncertain at Trillia’s words and give Reskiit (who’s taken Korm at his word and produced some food) a look. He frowns slightly but doesn’t say anything. Tuneer listens silently, with no trace of emotion other than attentiveness, and then says, “I understand. You are not the first to come to Yarkuun Draal and will not be the last. And I know the lore of the daelkyr interests some. It is a dark path, but each of us sings the song that we may.”

“My people are both of the possibilities you mentioned. Many are descendants of those who once lived in the city, and others came from the land that is now Darguun. We have fought the daelkyr’s minions for centuries and will do so until they are driven from our home and it is restored to its old glory. Though you clearly have power, I doubt that it is enough to break the aberrations’ hold on the city. There are thousands of them there, many of immense power. There are the mindflayers you mention, but there are also the eye tyrants, cloakers, aboleths, and many creatures they have created in the depths of Khyber. Still, whatever damage you do to them benefits us.”

She stops to exchange a long look with Reskiit, who nods at her, and then says, looking at Trillia, “Whatever you call it, to us you are people who are taking things from our home. Though they may have been taken from us ages ago, they were made by our ancestors. We would normally slay you or drive you away for this, but since you fight the aberrations we will not harm you. You may keep what you recover, but I would like to know what it is, in case you find anything that is very important to my people. I am reluctant to risk the lives of my people to aid you, but perhaps we can help with information and otherwise. What say you?” 

Six speaks up, his questions being delivered curtly, with the intention of keeping the conversation focused. “Do you have legends or lore of particular items of people of your past that might still be there? Do you have a short history of your people and what happened with the aberrations? Do you lose many people to the aberrations? Have you heard of the Heart?”

Tuneer looks at him with interest and says, “We have seen few of your kind here, master warforged” (it is the first word in Common that she has used). “To answer your questions in detail would take weeks. Yes, we have legends and lore of items that were lost, like the Implacable Blade of Aal’drash with which the general slew four mindflayers single-handed, or the Banner of the Storm’s Eye, beneath which he fell. As for our people who may still be there…,” she pauses and makes a quick gesture with her right hand, touching her chest and making a short sweeping gesture (which all the other goblinoids replicate), before continuing grimly, “…we do not speak of them. When a Dhakaani is captured by the aberrations, we perform the rites and consider him dead. It is better that way.” She adds, more softly, “However close they may have been to us.”

Then she smiles a little, though it is clearly strained, and continues, “What happened to my people with the aberrations is a long tale, since it began millennia ago, and now it is legend. Still, my sisters and I preserve the lore, that no Dhakaani may forget.” Her voice takes on a singsong quality and the words resonate strangely, and she is clearly putting forth her bardic ability. “Nine thousand years ago, the daelkyr and their armies came to this world, and Dhakaan stood against them. And they broke us, but though we fell we did not retreat, and in our fall we bought time for the druids of his people,” she nods at Korm, “and those of us who had joined them, to sunder the Plane of Madness from ours and to lock the daelkyr away. But by then the Empire was broken, and Yarkuun Draal had fallen. Thousands …nay, tens of thousands died in its fall. Ever since, the aberrations rule there, and we watch and wait. The time will come when the aberrations will be driven out and Yarkuun Draal - and Dhakaan - will rise again. We wait for that day. That is our story, of glory that was, and that shall be again.”

She stops to take a breath and her voice changes from that of bardic narration to normal conversation. “This Heart you mention, however, I do not know of.”

Six then describes the red ‘ghost’ that the group freed from the chamber with the daelkyr warning. 

Tuneer and Reskiit again exchange glances when he finishes and then she says, “I have heard of chambers where the daelkyr penned our people as prisoners or simply disposed of them, and it seems you found one such, but I do not know who, or what, it was that you released. If it was feared by the aberrations, then hopefully it will harm them in some way.”

Six then asks, “Tuneer, when was the last time warforged were around here?”

The bard considers for a moment and then says, “Over a year ago. A group of travelers encountered one of our warbands and they … fought. There were two warforged among them. All of the travelers were slain. It was north and west of here, and they were not going to the City.” She does not make any mention of why they fought.

When translating what Tuneer says, Trillia adds, “There has been the odd rumor over the years - and from well before my time - of travelers who disappeared near the Highlands. It’s safe to say that the Dhakaani are not friendly to all who pass this way.”

Tuneer then says, “Tell me of this parley that you speak of, and who this Naxaliyen is. Why would you parley with the aberrations? Ones as well informed as you seem to be must know they cannot be trusted.”

Korm replies, “Why are we parlaying? Ha - there’s a good story behind that. When we arrived back at our camp yesterday, Naxaliyen sent us a message through the raven-headed rod. We’d heard from an aberration inside that Nax was a mindflayer who was a leader there, so we decided to play the Answering Questions Without Answers game with him, an old Marches riddle game.” 

Korm detailed coverage of the messages has various effects on the goblinoids, ranging from Reskiit, who at one point is bent over guffawing with laughter, to Tuneer, who remains more dignified but has a broad grin on her face that she has great difficulty removing even after he is done. “You are a very … unusual group,” she says finally, to which Trillia mutters with a smile, “I might use some other words, but yes, they are.”

When he has finished recounting the message and they become able to breathe again, Korm goes on. “Then Nax sent the awful messenger you saw. He wanted to find out who we were, and what we wanted. He said he was protecting his ‘people’” (Korm pronounces the quotation marks, with as much venom as he can muster) “and wanted to bargain with us, items and information in return for our information about Snookums and us leaving. So that's what we’re doing. So we’re going to accept his gifts, and in return tell him about the red hobgoblin and spin some terrifying story about it. Then we’ll leave this place, for the day at least; we didn’t say we wouldn’t come back.” 

“While we spoke, we found out that he was very worried about us trying to go after what he called ‘the heart of the city,’ which he said was very well protected. I do not know what it is, but the aberrations want it safe, so I want it taken or destroyed.” 

When Korm is done, Tuneer says, “I do not know of this Naxaliyen, but then the aberrations have many leaders. They live in groups across the city, and each one has one or more leaders. Some are mindflayers, but not all. There are tunnels to Khyber below the city, where one or more powerful aberrations rule. I do not know of ‘the heart of the city’ either, but perhaps it refers to the seal your people, Korm’akhan, built here when Xoriat was sundered from us, before the city’s final fall. It used to be in a large courtyard, on the eastern side of the city, but the aberrations have built a structure over and around it now, or so our scouts report. We do not commonly send them into the city now, since it is too dangerous. The place is not too difficult to find, since it is on the fifth level from the river, immediately below three pillars supporting statues of our ancient kings. They broke the statues in half, but the remnants and the pillars remain.” 

She stops and muses for a bit and then says, “But I cannot see why a mindflayer would wish the seal - if that is this ‘heart’ - to be protected. That is the opposite of what they would want. So perhaps it means something else.”

“As for this parley, it is your choice, but I warn you to be careful. The aberrations are treacherous and this might simply be a ploy to try and kill or capture you. We will not help nor hinder in this meeting, but if you return to slay more aberrations or return to the city to do so, we will appreciate it.”

“But now we should leave you. Our people dwell to the north, but I suggest you do not search for them.” When she says this, the Angels realize that the large iron deposits Luna picked up with her use of _commune with nature_ was probably the hobgoblin tribe’s location. Tuneer continues, “Before we go, would you show me what you found in the city. As I said, since you oppose the aberrations, we will let you keep what you find, even though there may be heirlooms of my people’s within them. But there might be a thing or two of value that we would be loath to see in the hands of non-Dhakaani, even those such as yourselves. I hope you understand.”


----------



## shilsen

Trillia agrees to Tuneer’s request and displays what they found, as do her companions, though they are careful to not produce the ‘reference goblin,’ the mummified arm, or either of the symbionts. After examining the objects, Tuneer says that while many of the artifacts are valuable, she has no objection to the group taking them, but the two byeshk weapons would be very helpful to her people. 

The adventurers hand them over and then Six asks whether there are byeshk deposits locally available. Tuneer says there are not, with the byeshk weapons they have being relics of the past or crafted from byeshk brought by more recent members of the tribe from places like Darguun. Six explains that he was wondering if the Dhakaani have anything that they could trade, since perhaps he could find a way to obtain byeshk for them, or other things that they may need.

 Tuneer seems surprised at the offer and then says that her people have little that they could trade and it is not a real concern of theirs, but Six persists, pointing out that the kind of artifacts they found could be valuable to collectors. Tuneer says that she cannot decide about this personally, but promises to talk to others. Six asks if there is any way he could contact them, since the Angels are likely to return here, and Gareth adds that it would help to have some form of identification so that they are not attacked by mistake on their next visit. Tuneer says that she will have their descriptions passed around and they will be safe. As for contact, she says that if they return here the chances are the Dhakaani will spot them. “Especially if you make camps with a ring of dead runehounds around it.”

With that, the Dhakaani take their leave, heading away towards the north. The adventurers take down the _tiny hut_ and wake Luna, who had moved on from preparing her spells outside to taking a nap. The other spellcasters settle down to preparing their spells.

Once they are done, they heal the various forms of damage that were still in effect from the previous day. Trillia and Nameless each cast an _identify_ on one symbiont. Though they are not truly magic items, they have some similar properties, and the spells reveal certain aspects. The first is what Trillia calls a tongueworm and displays the same abilities as a _ring of spell-storing_, though it has to be attached to one’s tongue to work (whether to cast spells into or out of it). It currently contains a _true strike_ spell. Nameless identifies the band-like symbiont as similar to a _ring of regeneration_, but capable of attaching to an arm, leg or neck. 

By the time they are done explaining, Luna is jumping up and down in a small puddle of her own drool, going, “Oooh, oooh, oooh - let me try it, let me try it!” Korm momentarily thinks of trying to dissuade her, but decides it’s futile and settles for saying, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you if you turn into an aberration.” Trillia adds that they are likely to have aspects and drawbacks that the _identify_ didn’t reveal, but by the time she’s done, Luna is sticking the band around her arm.

She feels it clamp on tightly and then a minor pain as she feels it attach suckers that pierce her skin. Though the pain disappears instantly, there is a concurrent feeling of weakness*, which doesn’t. When she tells the others, Trillia says that’s probably a result of the band attaching itself and drawing some initial sustenance from her, since symbionts need to be attached to a host in order to survive. She says that the weakness probably only occurs when attaching or removing a symbiont. A relieved Luna quickly uses a spell to heal herself and then attaches the tongue to her own.

When she does, she feels it clasp on like the band, and then feels it uncoil itself (which, since she has her mouth open and tongues extended, everyone else has the joy of seeing) and stretch all the way back to her throat and down it, where it attaches. This too leads to a slightly different feeling of weakness**, requiring the use of another spell, and more amusingly, turns Luna’s voice thin and tinny. The effect remains even when Luna changes into a bear, since the symbionts (being living creatures rather than real magical items) retain their shape and function even when she wild shapes, causing her growl to sound a lot less threatening than it used to. 

With that taken care of, the group settles down to breakfast. Luna discovers that she is incredibly hungry and eats three times what she normally does. Korm says, “I told you that symbiont would make you fat. I just didn’t know it would do so indirectly.”

Over breakfast, the group discusses what to do with Naxaliyen’s messengers. Gareth says, “I think we should kill them and take whatever they bring.”

Korm shakes his head. “No. We promised to parley with them, so we should.”

“Why would you parley with them?”

Korm replies, in a tone that says the answer should be obvious, “Honor.”

“But they are aberrations, which you oppose, and are evil. They deserve no honor.”

“They do not deserve honor. But I do. So I act honorably, even if they do not.”

Nameless says, “A druid teaching a paladin about honor. Why am I not surprised?” To Korm, he adds, “Though I’m loath to agree with Gareth, I’ve got to say that you’re insane if you expect them not to attack us.”

“Oh, I’m aware that it’s quite likely they might attack us. In which case I will happily kill them. But I will not be the one to lie. I can be prepared for treachery without being treacherous myself,” concludes Korm, giving Gareth a meaningful look.

The discussion is interrupted by a squawk from the _raven skull rod_. Its eyes glow and it relays a message, “My messengers will reach you in thirty minutes. I have sent you information, artifacts and magic. Make sure that your information is equally valuable.” 

After some discussion, the Angels decide not to reply, and then begin to consider what they will say once the messengers arrive. About fifteen minutes after the _raven skull rod_ spoke, some of them catch sight of movement in the distance, about a quarter of a mile from camp.

While the Angels make their preparations and cast protective spells, the messengers head towards the camp. When they come to a stop some sixty feet away, the leader, a pale and thin dolgaunt steps forward. Its eyeless sockets gaze at the adventurers, as does a small orb that continually circles its head, appearing to be a disembodied eye. It has three holes in its forehead, as did the messenger the previous night. 

Behind it is a large open wagon, driven by a pair of nervous-looking dolgrims. It is pulled by an extremely large and malformed ox, the two extra legs and the eye growing out of the tip of its left horn being clear indications of its nature. Beside the wagon stand two large ogres, each of which has a long fringe of tentacles growing on its head instead of hair. 

The dolgaunt says, “We are the messengers from Naxaliyen. You are expecting us, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” With that, the dolgaunt’s eye sockets begin to glow with a yellow light, and its voice is replaced by that of Naxaliyen. Its tentacles, which had been moving constantly, slump immediately. 

“Here is what I promised you. Now give me the information.”

“First we see what you are giving us.”

At Naxaliyen’s command, the dolgrims turn the wagon around, to show that it holds two sacks and a large box. He climbs onto the wagon and opens them in turn, revealing weapons and armor, Dhakaani artifacts, thousands of silver coins, solid gold bars, parchments (which, unsurprisingly, seems to be made of skin) with writing in daelkyr on them, and other valuable items. Nameless casts a _detect magic_ and finds magical auras from five items in the chest.

“Now tell me.”

Nameless looks at the others and then goes into the preplanned story. “He who is not to be named sent us here. He, she or it—we are not sure—appears to us in dreams. Or rather, to him.” He points at Six.

Though the dolgaunt displays no expression, the voice coming through it sounds a little uncertain. “I do a little of your kind. You do not sleep, so how does this Snookums…”

“Shhhh!” chorus a number of the Angels, while Trillia chokes back her laughter.

This time the dolgaunt waves its tentacles irritated. “I do not have time for that! As I was saying, if you do not sleep, how are you contacted in dreams?”

“We’re a little confused about that ourselves,” says Nameless, trying to sound as sincere as he can. “He who is not to be named told us to go to that room, at any cost, and release what was there.”

“So that was your objective? What did you release from there?”

The Angels provide a completely honest and detailed coverage of everything that they saw in the chamber, focusing on the glowing red hobgoblin. 

Naxaliyen listens, asking a  few questions here and there. When they are done, he asks, “So you are done with whatever you wished to accomplish here? You will leave now and not return?”

“Yes, we will leave now,” says Korm. “But I wish to test what you have given us first.”

Naxaliyen steps away as Korm climbs onto the wagon. He takes out one of the bars of gold and cuts it in half, the meteoric iron of his sword slicing through neatly to reveal that it is solid gold all the way through.

“Let me do something,” says Nameless. Naxaliyen immediately steps away and the ogres step before him. “Do not worry,” reassures Nameless.

Nevertheless, Naxaliyen says to the ogres in daelkyr, “Careful - he may try something foolish.”

Nameless grins and says in daelkyr as well, “No, I will _not_ try something foolish.”

Naxaliyen doesn’t reply and Nameless tells Korm and Trillia (who has been studying the artifacts), “Get off the wagon. I want to use a _dispel_ and see what it shows.”

“Good idea,” says Trillia, descending and casting _detect magic_.”

Nameless casts the spell and Trillia sees that the magical auras on the items in the chest promptly wink out. As she opens her mouth to tell him, Naxaliyen reaches down to his belt and pulls off a small chain hanging there.

He promptly disappears in a flash of light, as do the two dolgrims, which had descended and been standing near the wagon. In their stead appear three creatures. Where Naxaliyen was standing appears a mind flayer, but this one has had its tentacles amputated down to short nubs, each with a small gem set into the end. It is also missing an eye, and the other one is far too massive for its head, causing the skin around it to bulge out grotesquely. The eye glows with a bright blue light. The dolgrims are replaced by a pair of creatures that some of the group recognize as nagas. They are large snakes with vaguely human-like heads, reticulated emerald-green patterns running over their bodies, and fiery orange-red spines jutting from their backbones. Each is dripping with water, which pools on the ground around it.

“Now!” cries the mind flayer in daelkyr, its long hands moving in the gestures of a spell.

* 1d3 Str dmg
** 1d3 Con dmg


----------



## shilsen

*Hoist By Thy Own Petard (or “When wagons attack”)*

As soon as the mind flayer appears, Luna drops her standard _flame strike_ around it and the two nearby ogres, which reveals that it has some sort of magical protection against fire, since it is barely scorched. Even as the flames disappear, Korm races forward with magically enhanced speed before the ogres can react to protect it. He slashes at the creature, driving it back with a deep cut on the shoulder, but it completes the spell. 

The result is something that has often been seen by the Angels. A pair of wolves appear, each as large as a horse and with a fringe of writhing tentacles. One appears beside Nameless and one beside Korm, biting into their targets and pulling them off their feet.

“What?” says Gareth, “They can do that too?”

“They’re aberrations,” says Trillia, stepping away from a wolf and beginning to cast too. “Where’d you think the roots of this magic comes from?”

Nameless too attempts to cast a spell, rolling away from the wolf as best he can. As the two alienists complete their spells, half a dozen wolves begin to shimmer into place. “That’s how you do it,” mutters Nameless.

Unfortunately, the sentiment is premature. Both nagas, which have been swaying in place and watching the enemy without acting, unleash spells that _dispel_ the budding _summon_s, as well as removing some of the many protective spells on the Angels.

“Oh well, I guess we do this the hard way!” says Six, teaming up with Gareth to team up on the wolf that was attacking Nameless, which they quickly dispatch.

“Hard way? What the hell do you think I’m doing?” grunts Korm painfully from the ground, as he (mostly vainly) attempts to avoid the powerful blows of the two ogres, that join the wolf in concentrating on him. 

Six’s intended reply is cut off by a crunching sound beside him. To his surprise, as well as that of everyone watching, the bulk of the wagon standing near him falls off its wheels. It then slithers its way across the ground towards him, extending a long wood-colored appendage that slaps against him painfully. The appendage is coated with an adhesive fluid that sticks to him, but the warforged jerks away.

“We’re being attacked by a wagon?!”

“It’s a mimic! Don’t let it touch you!” yells Nameless.

Things quickly get worse for the adventurers. The mind flayer, who now takes to the air under presumably a pre-existing _fly_ spell, _summon_s three pseudonatural bison to increase the odds. The nagas continue to prevent Trillia and Nameless from reciprocating in kind, while the mimic continues to follow Six around the battlefield, lashing out with its tongue-like pseudopods. Though he lands a powerful blow against it, his spiked chain promptly sticks to it, forcing Six to retreat and draw another. Luna, shaking off a powerful blow from an ogre’s club, catches the hovering mind flayer and the naga beneath it in a _dispel magic_, but the spell has no obvious effect. Gareth cuts down one of the wolves, but finds two bison taking its place and keeping him from reaching the prone Korm, who is almost invisible under the multiple enemies around him.

But it is Korm, simultaneously being bitten, bludgeoned and stepped on, who buys the others some time. Bellowing an orcish war-cry, he rolls over and hurls his sword. The blade, made of meteoric iron, enchanted in the depths of the Shadow Marches by Gatekeepers to especially harm aberrations, whirls through the air and almost cuts the mind flayer in half*. Even as he screams in pain and barely remains upright, the sword flies back to Korm’s hand. 

“Kill him! Kill the druid!” screams the mind flayer as he floats downwards, before gasping “Heal me - quick!” The naga beside him casts a spell and touches him, closing some of his wounds. The mind flayer also touches it and _dimension door_s the two of them to the other side of the battlefield and away. 

As ordered by the mind flayer, the ogres and _summon_ed creatures swarm over Korm. Just as he is about to collapse, Luna charges through the press and touches him with a paw, growling her most powerful spell. Instantly, a _rejuvenation cocoon_ of yellow-green force envelops him, simultaneously protecting Korm and beginning the process of healing him. With Korm now safe, Luna and Gareth concentrate on taking apart his attackers.

With the mind flayer and attendant naga now focused on healing the former, Nameless staggers to his feet and attempts to cast his last major _summon_ing spell. Before the spell is done, the remaining naga releases a dark ray of crackling energy. The _enervation_ not only weakens him but instantly wipes the memory of the _summon_ing spell and two others from his mind. To add injury to insult, the mimic (Six having tumbled out of its way) strikes Nameless in the back with a pseudopod, knocking him down and out. The alienist remains attached to the pseudopod, which retracts and leaves him stuck to the side of the mimic.

“Damn!” says Trillia, backing away, “We need to get out of here!”

“What about Nameless?” shouts Six, as he pulls out his third and last chain, having left a second one on the mimic.

Trillia’s throws his unconscious form a look as the mimic stalks her slowly, its pseudopods lashing out with surprising dexterity**. “We’ll have to come back for him!” With that, she hurls an _orb of flame_ at the naga that hit Nameless. 

The impact dazes the naga and Gareth takes the opportunity to charge it, followed closely by Luna. He cuts deeply into its side and the bear sinks her claws into it and pulls it into a grapple, where it writhes helplessly. 

At the same time, the _cocoon_ falls apart and Korm appears, this time with a large pair of feathery wings that he grew while inside. With sword in hand, he flies at the pairing of naga and mind flayer. This time the naga is the one to _dimension door_ with its ally, reappearing across the battlefield. Not being maneuverable enough to change direction quickly, Korm flies at the naga grappled by Luna.

Trillia, quickly backpedaling and using  a _mirror image_ to foil the mimic, says to Luna, “That cocoon turned Korm into a butterfly?”

Hacking down at the naga, Korm growls back, “I am NOT a butterfly!” Beneath him, Luna grunts in momentary amusement and then rips the naga’s head off.

From across the battlefield, the mind flayer yells an order to the mimic, and it heads back to join him and the remaining naga. The mind flayer flies closer to it and the unconscious Nameless, a clawed hand raised in preparation for a spell.

As Korm charges him, the mind flayer gestures and speaks. Though there is no visible effect, a second later the onrushing druid smashes painfully into an invisible barrier. The mind flayer smirks, and quickly sends a bead of fire streaking in Korm’s direction. The _wall of force_ it erected evidently ends just below the big orc, since the bead streaks a few inches below his feat and explodes in a _fireball_ enveloping most of the group. A small _orb of electricity_ follows right behind, striking Gareth full in the back.

The already wounded paladin staggers under the impact of the two spells and almost falls. Realizing that one more such hit will kill him, Korm flies back and encases him in a _cocoon_ like the one Luna used on him. 

Trillia, though burned by the _fireball_, brings down a _glitterdust_, which does nothing to incommode the enemy. But, seeing a growling Luna charging in, as well as Six coming in from the side, and Korm leaving the _cocoon_ed Gareth to follow suit, the mind flayer decides enough is enough.

He reaches down to the unconscious Nameless and casts a spell. Even as Luna, Six and Korm are all about to reach him, the air shimmers around him and he disappears. As does the naga beside him, and, much more troublingly for the Angels, Nameless. 

* Natural 18 to threaten and 17 to confirm. Without that critical, things would have been much, much worse.
** We discovered during the fight that the wagon-mimic had higher Dex than Korm and higher Charisma than the two druids and Six!


*Handled over email:*
After the initial surprise of Nameless’s disappearance is gone, the Angels take apart the mimic from a distance and then discuss what to do. Gareth wants to go after him immediately, but Trillia points out that they have absolutely no idea where he was taken. Though she’d prefer to go after him as soon as possible, she says the best way to do so would be to _scry_ on his location. Six points out that Nameless has the Shard on him, so they’re likely to be in trouble soon, but Trillia reminds him that, according to what they had learned from Arrok, as long as they’re trying actively to get to the Shard they should be all right. Hopefully. 

The next question is how to get back to Sharn, since Trillia can only transport three people of human size with her and has no prepared spell to shrink any of them. At Korm’s suggestion, Luna changes into a small snake and curls up in Six’s magical haversack, and Trillia _teleport_s the group to Sharn. After the group has gone through the contents of the wagon/mimic, that is, which they find to contain less valuable items than they had thought, though there is still a fair amount. 

They reappear in Trillia’s laboratory. She tells the others that she will visit the Guild of Starlight and Shadow and see whether they have a scroll of scrying available for purchase. If they do, she will attempt to use it and, if successful, they can leave the next morning as soon as the spell casters have recovered their spells. Trillia takes most of the artifacts that the group discovered as well as all five of the gold ingots, saying that she will dispose of them and use the money to pick up necessary spells and equipment.

Before Trillia leaves, her steward Glauster says that two people had stopped by looking for the Angels. One was Dala, who seemed very concerned, and the other was a warforged called Stone, who said that he was looking for Six regarding a job. 

Hearing of Dala, esp. in view of the current situation, reminds everyone that she's linked to the Shard as well. Since nobody remembered to tell her about your trip away from Sharn, she must have realized something was wrong when the distance from the Shard affected her. 

Since Trillia says that she’ll be gone for hours, Six goes off to look for Stone, whom he find at the Esoteric Order. Six spends some time asking Stone, a particularly bulky warforged, about his abilities, what sort of payment arrangement he would expect if hired by the Angels, whether he is willing to accompany them outside Sharn, especially into dangerous situations, etc.

Stone, who is clearly not used to long discussions, explains that he is capable of using artificer infusions of the third power. He can both create new magical items and enhance current ones. He has substantial expertise in magical craftsmanship, being able to craft scrolls, potions, wands, armor, weapons and miscellaneous magical items. As for payment, Stone says that he would prefer to decide it on a case by case basis. Since having a set of regular customers would benefit him, he would be willing to give the Angels a certain rebate (anywhere from 10% to 25%) on standard item prices, the % being lower if he is expected to automatically put orders from them at the top of his list. 

Stone also says honestly that he has no experience of actual adventuring. Though slightly reluctant, he is willing to accompany the group on adventures, but would prefer to work off a fixed daily rate (negotiated per assignment) rather than have it depend on what the group finds. Stone also points out that his abilities are not geared towards combat, either healing the wounded or standing in the rear and using a wand being most of what he could do. He is, however, very interested in the job on the whole. He's definitely not going to be able to accompany the group to Yarkuun Draal, but will be free in a couple of days.


----------



## shilsen

*looks at title Rackhir put up*

Yes, "Things go Pear-Shaped" sounds about right. Unfortunately, we didn't play this weekend, but interesting developments have been happening on email, so I'll have an interim post up in a day or two. Let's just say Nameless may never be the same again.

By the way, is anyone outside players from the group reading this thread? I usually see a number of hits whenever I make an update, but no posts from readers. I'll keep updating, just because doing the writeup is enjoyable and this thread is a good place to store/access it, but I was just curious.


----------



## Gold Roger

I'm still here (or rather, again, after being without computer for about 6 weeks).

Greatly enjoying myself as well. There's always something interesting to glean on the DMing side, while the PC's provide an enjoyable amount of fun and sillyness.


----------



## ajanders

I'm still astonished about the "pear-shaped" remark.
I thought I was the only person who used that expression.


----------



## Rackhir

ajanders said:
			
		

> I'm still astonished about the "pear-shaped" remark.
> I thought I was the only person who used that expression.




Thin Blue Line fan eh? Me too.


----------



## Sidekick

HI Shilsen - I'm definetly reading this SH.

It's very good and the Angels are a very good group - especially the not-so-pious Paladin...

Keep up the good work - from the sounds of it you've crafted a very good campaign.

Which reminds me, a question.

Did you start the campaign with an overview of what you wanted to have happen, or did you just do most of it on the fly inbetween sessions?

And who decided about Namelesses amnesia? Player, DM or a joint decision?


----------



## shilsen

Gold Roger said:
			
		

> I'm still here (or rather, again, after being without computer for about 6 weeks).




I'd noticed you posting on the General RPG Discussion board a couple of days ago and thought, "Hmm - haven't seen him around in a while." No computer for 6 weeks? Ow!



> Greatly enjoying myself as well. There's always something interesting to glean on the DMing side, while the PC's provide an enjoyable amount of fun and sillyness.




I think they're getting sillier over time. That whole 'Snookums' things completely cracked me up. I gave them an OOC visual of a mind flayer getting their messages and sitting there with a "WTF?!" expression.



			
				ajanders said:
			
		

> I'm still astonished about the "pear-shaped" remark.
> I thought I was the only person who used that expression.






> Thin Blue Line fan eh? Me too.




I've never heard of Thin Blue Line, but I've known and used that expression for ages. I think it may be a Britishism.


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> HI Shilsen - I'm definetly reading this SH.
> 
> It's very good and the Angels are a very good group - especially the not-so-pious Paladin...
> 
> Keep up the good work - from the sounds of it you've crafted a very good campaign.




Thanks. I got started on D&D a lot later than most people who play it (at 25), so this is one of only three reasonably long-term campaigns I've run, and this is by far the best. I'm definitely looking to get better as a DM, but I'm also quite satisfiedwith how this one's worked out and where it's gone/going.



> Which reminds me, a question.
> 
> Did you start the campaign with an overview of what you wanted to have happen, or did you just do most of it on the fly inbetween sessions?




Almost exclusively the latter. I absolutely abhor railroading, as both DM and as player, so when I started the campaign I made it very clear to the players that there was no overarching plot and the campaign would arise out of the PCs' choices.

When the campaign began, I threw a bunch of plot hooks at the PCs and they picked which one(s) to follow. These choices opened up new plots, and some of the ones which weren't picked up on also developed in the background and became important and/or were picked up on later. And as time has gone on I've tried to throw in a few different options every once in a while. I've tried to introduce elements from the PCs' backgrounds as well, as well as elements from areas that I know the PCs are interested in. All in all, it's meant that I have to be much more adaptable as a DM, but it's far more satisfying too. Plus it's always interesting for me, since I never know for sure where the PCs will end up next.

The trip to Xen'drik was the best example thereof, since the players completely blindsided me with that one. IIRC, it was Six's player who suggested they get out of town and the bunch of so-and-so's took off to en entirely different continent just as we were in the middle of a lot of interconnecting plots. If they hadn't made that choice and stayed in Sharn, they'd have got further involved with the Boromar-Daask war (which erupted to a great extent because they hijacked the Daask payroll), had more dealings with Killian, and experienced the plague/poisoning by the Children of Winter (which was a lot more successful than it would have been since the PCs decided to ignore the Gatekeepers' request to investigate). Instead, they got to blow up an island and got saddled with the Shard. That showed 'am 



> And who decided about Namelesses amnesia? Player, DM or a joint decision?




The amnesia and the fact that he walked out of the Mournland a couple days after the Day of Mourning was the player's choice. The reasons for it was my decision, and he doesn't really know the reasons, either IC or OOC. I've been dropping enough little hints with the fleeting memories and such that he has a pretty good idea, but not completely.

Hopefully that explains things, and probably in a lot more length than you wanted. But then, we've already established my verbosity in this thread.

And speaking of Nameless's amnesia, here's a bit of what's been going on...


----------



## shilsen

*Handled over email:*

In Sharn:

Gareth visits the Cathedral in an attempt to obtain some extra magical supplies. Though the Archierophant is not present, he gets to speak to one of the priests who are currently available. After hearing about the request, the latter says that the temple has a very small number of _restoration_ scrolls, since only the Archierophant has the ability to create them, and he cannot give them away without her express permission. He does, however, provide Gareth with three scrolls of _lesser restoration_. He also tells Gareth that his best bet for _restoration_ magic is the House Jorasco headquarters in Dragon Towers, though they do not generally sell such magic in item form. The patient needs to be present for one of their healers to heal him. 

Gareth thanks the priest and heads back to Trillia’s home, stopping at the Deneith enclave to check on Lalia. There, he is informed that Lalia and Tasra are both expected back three days later. They are currently in Wroat as part of the security for Queen Aurala’s visit to Breland to meet King Boranel. 

Meanwhile, Korm and Luna visit Carosten Park and speak to Surr’kal about what has happened. He is more than a little horrified at the news, though it’s hard to say whether that’s more because they lost Nameless or the Key. After some thought, he says that he will perform a Gatekeeper ritual for the entire group the next morning, which will give them added protection. Korm tells Luna on the way back to Trillia’s that this is not normally done for non-Gatekeepers. 

Trillia returns four hours after she left, looking quite tired. She says, “Lots to report. Most importantly, I managed to _scry_ Nameless successfully, and he’s alive. He was in a big circular room, with ceiling crystals, that pink covering on the walls, a sphincter - all that stuff we saw before. There were four slabs in there and Nameless was lying on one, completely stripped down. The slab had that pinkish material covering it and there were strips of it over his feet, hands and mouth like they’d grown there. I studied him for a few minutes and he never made a move, so I assume he was still unconscious. Just when the spell was about to end, a mind flayer and a dolgaunt came in. The dolgaunt looked just like the one that came along with the wagon-mimic, and the mind flayer looked a lot like the one we fought, with a big deformed eye and one empty socket, but its tentacles were intact. Neither of them noticed the sensor from the spell [OOC: I rolled two natural 1s on their Int checks!]. The mind flayer said to the dolgaunt, “Wake him,” and it went over to Nameless. I couldn’t see what it was doing from the angle I had, but I did see it wrap a tentacle around his head and then the damn spell ended. But at least we know he’s alive.”

Trillia stops, takes a deep breath and then reaches into her haversack. She starts pulling out packets and putting them on a nearby table. Scrolls roll out of one and another clinks softly. As she puts them down, she explains, “I disposed of most of the items we found, some to the Guild and some to reliable people I know. I presume you wouldn’t mind, since we’ll need a lot of magical backup to safely get in there, grab Nameless and get out. I picked up a LOT of stuff and would have got more if it had been readily available.” She chuckles, a little of her usual good humor reasserting itself, and says, “Let’s just say there are a lot of people at the Guild who’re feeling a lot richer suddenly.”

Having taken out all that she brought back, Trillia sits down and looks around the room. “All of you can stay here tonight and tomorrow early morning I’ll _scry_ Nameless’s location one more time and we can leave as soon as I’m done. Does that sound good? Or as good as things can, under the circumstances.”

About half an hour after Trillia returns, there is a new arrival at her house. This one is Dala Arand. Not only does she look well under the weather, but she also looks extremely upset. As soon as she is inside and alone with all of you, she bursts out, “What the hell did you guys do with the Key? I’ve been feeling like crap since yesterday and trying to work out where the hell you went!”

The adventurers explain what happened, which naturally doesn’t improve Dala’s state of mind. “You lost the bloody Shard? Oh, that’s just great!” 

After a little yelling, she manages to calm herself a bit. Trillia explains that they will be heading back there to hopefully rescue Nameless and return with the Shard. After all, it is not just Dala who has a link to it but everyone else here besides Trillia. As if to underscore her words, all of the Angels’s tattoos grow warm and begin to throb slowly. There is the usual accompanying urge to be near the Shard, but no attendant pain or feeling of illness, perhaps because not enough time has passed or because they are trying to recover it.

After a little more discussion, Dala leaves, saying that she will return at the same time next evening. After she leaves, Gareth says, “I still argue that I should be the one holding onto the Shard. I'm a little less squishy then Nameless, and by the grace of the Silver Flame I am able to resist harmful spells and poisons. I think maybe after this incident, we will change who is holding onto it.” 

“That's up to you all to decide,” says Trillia, “But you have a point, Gareth. Though Nameless does have the advantage of being able to end up 500 feet or 500 miles away in a couple of seconds, when needed. At least when he’s not being licked by a walking wagon, that is. I wonder how much the Silver Flame protects against that.”

She looks across at Luna, and adds, “Might not be a bad idea to have you carry it. When you’re in animal form it would meld into you, so somebody couldn’t take it off you without actually killing you. And you seem able to absorb horrible amounts of damage in that bear form of yours. Of course, this is all academic till we recover it.”

With Trillia's words to Luna, Gareth's eyes go wide, “Hm. I think I can speak for all of us that we think that would be a bad idea. Luna is more likely to give it away to someone then have them try and kill her for it.”

Meanwhile, in Yarkuun Draal:

Nameless awakes, feeling incredibly weak. Though he does not know it, he’s in the chamber Trillia saw him in. The first thing he sees is a dolgaunt leaning over him, which he recognizes as the messenger from Naxaliyen. And the first thing he feels is the solid strips of material wrapped around his ankles/feet, wrists/hands and throat/mouth. The thick material makes it almost impossible to move and prevents speech, though it doesn’t interfere with his breathing. 

The dolgaunt, which has both tentacles wrapped around the top of Nameless’s head, unwraps them and steps back. Behind the dolgaunt stands a mind flayer, dressed in long robes. Though it has a missing eyesocket and one much larger, deformed yellow eye, like the spellcasting mind flayer did, this one is slightly taller and its tentacles are whole. 

It gazes at Nameless for a few seconds and then says, in goblin, “You have caused great damage, but I will find a way for you to remedy it. A pity your friends escaped. Still, you may prove interesting enough on your own. I believe you are a mighty mage, by your people’s standards. Let me see now.”

It steps forward, tentacles waving, and lets out a gurgling laugh as it advances, “No, don’t bother to stand or speak on my behalf.” Reaching Nameless, it leans over and takes his head in both hands. Two of the tentacles place themselves at his nostrils and two at his ear holes.

The mind flayer tightens its grip on Nameless’s skull and says, in a tone of amused anticipation, “Let’s see what secrets you have for Naxaliyen.” And then the tentacles burrow their way through the various orifices. 

There is a long moment of more excruciating pain than Nameless has ever felt, as he feels the tentacles making their way through his ears and nostrils, and he struggles involuntarily, but the combination of the restraints and Naxaliyen’s grip make it futile. Even the accompanying scream provides no relief, since it is muffled by the band over his mouth.

Strangely, the pain dies away after a few seconds, to be replaced by a dull ache. Within it, Nameless can still feel the tentacles. There is a moment of pressure as the tentacles reach his brain, and then Nameless has the indescribable feeling of them digging into his brain. Naxaliyen sighs with obscene satisfaction and closes its single eye.

As it does so, Nameless has the fairly unique experience of actually seeing his life flash before his eyes. Naxaliyen’s face fades from his eyes and instead, everything that he has experienced begins to flash before his vision, starting at his last memory of the battle and working backwards. The memories flash faster and faster, until they are an indistinct blur, but Nameless somehow remains perfectly aware of what he’s seeing. And so, he realizes, is Naxaliyen.

Within a few seconds, Naxliyen ‘rewinds’ Nameless’s memories all the way back to the events on the island near Xen’drik. When the memories hit the encounter with the daelkyr, Naxaliyen stops and opens his eye, surprise obvious on even his inhuman face. Then the surprise is replaced by a combination of amusement and glee. “You are more singular than I thought, human. So you have this Key. And you know how to use it. Excellent!” He turns his head to look at another slab, jerking Nameless painfully (since the tentacles are still attached to him), and gazes at it. Nameless’s equipment is carefully arranged on it, including the unopened box with the Key in it. 

Naxaliyen turns back to Nameless. “But how do you know how to use it? And why are part of your memories hidden even from you? And there is something else there. Show me, human.” He leans in and again closes his eye. Nameless feels a sense of renewed pressure in his head and the memories begin to flow backwards again. 

They slide backwards, reversing through his adventures with the other Angels in Sharn and elsewhere, back through his experiences from the War’s end to the fall of Cyre two years ago, until they reach his last conscious memory – walking out of the mists of death around the newly created Mournland. The memories end immediately.

Naxaliyen opens his eye, this time irritation shining in it. “This will not do,” he mutters and then closes it again. As he concentrates, his brow ripples back and forth. The pressure in Nameless’s head builds up until it is back to being pain, even worse than when Naxaliyen first attached his tentacles. Inside his head, he has a vision of a locked, mental gate, with the mind flayer pounding at it with waves of ever-increasing mental force. Nameless’s vision blurs. Just as he is about to black out, there is an almost audible ‘crack’ and the mental barrier flies open. Whatever was hidden within floods out, and as the pain recedes, Nameless remembers. Everything.


----------



## Kafkonia

I'm most definitely reading. I've been intrigued ever since you asked for ideas about the city of aberrations.


----------



## shilsen

Kafkonia said:
			
		

> I'm most definitely reading. I've been intrigued ever since you asked for ideas about the city of aberrations.



 Aha! So that's the ticket - ask for advice on the General board to secretly pimp my Story Hour! Thanks, Kafkonia.


----------



## shilsen

*Revelations*

As the floodgates of memory open and all of his earlier life comes rushing back, Nameless realizes that Kitan was telling the truth. He is ... or rather was, Edgar Thorn. He recalls growing up in Arjon Ford in Cyre, he remembers his parents and family and friends, he remembers a life and a personality that is completely alien to what he has known for the last couple of years. The sensation of recovering these memories is a strange one, in many ways like recollecting the details of a favorite and well-read book, rather than containing the visceral and emotional resonance that one’s past normally has.

The one portion of his memories that do evince some emotion from Nameless is the section to do with the experience that changed him. Nameless recalls now that he did join the Cyran military, and as one possessing a little proficiency in magic, was eventually assigned to a special forces unit. 

He remembers that in 994 YK, members of his unit were to locate a group in Metrol that had stolen something that the military desperately wanted returned. Nameless’s team found the group, which turned out to be a small but particularly powerful cult of the Dragon Below, as well as the stolen item, which he now realizes was a dragonshard that looked exactly like the Key. Nameless recollects the detection of his team by the cultists before reinforcements arrived, and falling unconscious in the subsequent battle. 

Nameless’s next memory is of waking up (with other members of his team) tied to what he now knows was a dimensional seal. In view of the knowledge he gained later and his recent experiences, everything that happened then takes on new meaning. The prisoners were intended to work as fuel for the stolen Key, which the leader of the cultists attempted to use to open the seal. The energy released killed all of his companions, but before the seal could actually open, an incredible backlash of energy killed everyone in the room and blew the Key apart. Somehow, Nameless survived.

His previous flashbacks of the event had involved a voice speaking to him moments before the explosion, and continuing to do so, in a changed form, afterwards. Nameless now recalls the words and understands them perfectly. The voice was that of a powerful daelkyr lord, the Nameless One, whose lair in Khyber is beneath Cyre. Feeling the weakening of a dimensional seal above his realm, he attempted to break through mentally from the opposite side. 

The Nameless One latched onto the minds of Nameless and his comrades through the temporarily weakened seal and was in the process of turning them into mindless minions when the explosion killed the others. The seal snapped shut at that point, severing the connection. Even with the information he has now, Nameless doesn’t understand exactly how, but the momentary contact with the Nameless One left something behind in his psyche. It’s almost as if the daelkyr lord left a mental footprint in his mind, permanently warping and changing the terrain around it. 

The voices in Nameless’s head, his detection as an aberration, his ‘instinctive’ ability to activate the Key, his interest in (and affinity towards) Xoriat, in all likelihood his spellcasting ability (which, before the incident, was adequate, but nowhere close to exceptional), are probably all the result of this mental wound. What would be lost (or what gained – or regained) by healing it, is left only to conjecture and Nameless’s imagination. Just as disquieting are the questions of what could heal such a wound, and the possibility that that powerful magics Nameless and his companions experience on a daily basis could do so inadvertently.

While Nameless is running through these revelations in his head, so too is Naxaliyen, as he reads and rereads Nameless’s memories. Finally, the mind flayer stops and retracts his tentacles, leaving Nameless with a splitting headache. Naxaliyen gazes at him for a long moment and then gurgles, “I have never met a creature quite like you before, Edgar – or Nameless, if you prefer. You are a gift to me, and I shall use you quickly, before your imbecile companions or others can interfere. But now I must think upon this.” 

The mind flayer turns away to the slab holding Nameless’s equipment and quickly extracts the box holding the Key. Holding it carefully, he signals to the dolgaunt, who walks over and picks up the rest of Nameless’s things. The pair then head toward the sphincter, which slides open to reveal a dark corridor. Naxaliyen looks over his shoulder and says, “Sleep. I will require you soon.” 

As they exit, the crystals in the ceiling pulse thrice quickly and everything goes black for Nameless. 

**********

*DM comment:* I'd actually been expecting and planning for Nameless's past to take a lot longer to emerge, but once he got nabbed by the mind flayer's, I figured this would be the perfect method and moment for it to emerge. I'm curious to see what Rackhir does (or doesn't) with the info.

I also added the following to the earlier post about the other PCs' preparations in Sharn:



> Meanwhile, Korm and Luna visit Carosten Park and speak to Surr’kal about what has happened. He is more than a little horrified at the news, though it’s hard to say whether that’s more because they lost Nameless or the Key. After some thought, he says that he will perform a Gatekeeper ritual for the entire group the next morning, which will give them added protection. Korm tells Luna on the way back to Trillia’s that this is not normally done for non-Gatekeepers.


----------



## Sidekick

Nice one Bruvva, nice one.

Now that is what I cann a good update!

Nameless once again has a name, and a moral quandry for what to do about his power and his connection to the Nameless One.

Shilsen - very sinister and very cool. You get a cadbury milk tray (because one cookie/choccie simply isn't enough).


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> *DM comment:* I'd actually been expecting and planning for Nameless's past to take a lot longer to emerge, but once he got nabbed by the mind flayer's, I figured this would be the perfect method and moment for it to emerge. I'm curious to see what Rackhir does (or doesn't) with the info.




Do with what information? About the only new piece of information is exactly why Nameless has  the connections he has had. Which doesn't really change anything. 

It's been clear to me what the shard could do since we acquired it and that is one of the reasons why he is adamantly against handing it over to Gareth/Church of the Silver Flame.

Its also why he's never mentioned anything about his flashbacks to anyone. It's as if he was the only person who knew what could happen if you brought two sub-critical masses of plutonium together and he was sitting on a pair that he couldn't get rid of.


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Nice one Bruvva, nice one.
> 
> Now that is what I cann a good update!
> 
> Nameless once again has a name, and a moral quandry for what to do about his power and his connection to the Nameless One.
> 
> Shilsen - very sinister and very cool.




Thankee, kind sir! 



> You get a cadbury milk tray (because one cookie/choccie simply isn't enough).




Ooh, gimme!



			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> Do with what information? About the only new piece of information is exactly why Nameless has the connections he has had.




I guess I took the confirmation of exactly what Nameless's past was, the explanation of why he has the unique talents that he does, and the knowledge of the daelkyr "footprint" in his head and its potentiality for increased/further effects in the future, as a combination rich enough to be defined as new information.  



> Which doesn't really change anything.




Mechanically, no. Roleplaying-wise, I think it has potential for all sorts of interesting use, both for internal character development and for external character interaction with other PCs and NPCs. But since he's your PC, that's pretty much your bailiwick. 

I'd havepreferred you not to be as underwhelmed as you apparently are, but it won't be the first time I thought something was cool and a player didn't, and it won't be the last.


----------



## shilsen

*The Rescue of Nameless, Pt. 1.*

The never sleeping Six wakes the others early on the morning of the 26th. The entire group heads to Carosten Park, where Surr’kal has been making preparations. The ritual itself is a simple enough affair, mainly involving everyone sitting in a circle meditating (or rather, in the case of some, simply sitting silently), interrupted once in a while by Surr’kal placing a small sprig of mistletoe on each individual or sprinkling them with a couple of drops of fresh rainwater. At the end of the hour, everyone feels an aura of well-being temporarily envelop them and then fade away. 

Surr’kal says, “You will now be more resistant to the powers of aberrations, whether it be poison or paralysis or anything else. The protection lasts five days, but ends instantly if you use healing or protective magic on an aberration.”

“_Really_ not a problem,” says Gareth.

“I don’t know about that,” wonders Korm aloud, “What happens if we need to heal Nameless? Will that affect the protection?”

“Honestly, I do not know,” says Surr’kal. “Nameless’s situation is an, forgive me, aberrant one.”

“We’ll find out when we do,” says Trillia briskly. “We have no time to waste.” She gives Surr’kal a short bow and says, “Thank you, Gatekeeper. Hopefully, we will all see you soon again.”

Surr’kal bows back silently, though the worry is evident in his face, and the Angels take their leave.

Back at Trillia’s, the group waits while she produces a scroll and goes through the hour-long process of _scry_ing on Nameless. At the end of the time, the large mirror that she has been gazing into blurs and its surface turns smoky. While the others see nothing else, Trillia stares into it intently and describes what she alone sees. 

“I can see him. And he’s somewhere else. And not naked - praise be. He has his normal clothes on and is in an open chamber of some sort. No doors. I can see a tunnel coming and going out. That mind flayer which I saw before—Naxaliyen, I think—is there too, as is that dolgaunt with the floating eye. It’s got a tentacle wrapped around Nameless’s throat. I don’t see the … damn, the mind flayer’s seen my sensor and…”

“That’s it. Let’s go now!” interrupts Korm.

Trillia nods and steps away from the mirror, which returns to normal, and begins to pick up nearby scrolls and cast the few remaining protective spells that the group has not already cast. She opens the last one and speaks the words. Immediately, all of the Angels other than Six shrink to half their size. 

“Grab hands,” orders Trillia, placing a hand on Luna’s shoulder and casting a spell. And _teleport_s the group to Nameless’s location.

Or tries to. The adventurers get a fleeting glimpse of the chamber Trillia had described, with Nameless and the two aberrations in it, and then have a sense of an irresistible force shunting them to the side.

A split second later, they fully reappear, but in a very different place. This is an empty chamber, fifteen feet to a side and about ten high. There are three closed sphincters, each about two feet in diameter, in the ceiling and a larger one in the wall. The entire room stinks abominably, due to the dirty fluid and refuse that the group is knee-deep in. Or, in the case of those unfortunate enough to have been _reduce_d, about chest deep.

“Ugh!” says Trillia, covering her nose and mouth, but remembering to pronounce the words to end the spell. 

Which brings Luna, Gareth and Korm back to normal size and makes the room a lot more crowded. 

“What happened?” asks Six. “Did something go wrong with your spell?”

“No. Didn’t you feel us being shoved to the side? That was definitely a magical effect of some sort. Probably a protection against _teleport_ing in.”

“Hope it’s not a protection against _teleport_ing out,” says Korm.

Gareth, listening to the interchange and scraping off the refuse that covers him from chest to knee, says, “Can we get out and discuss this?” As he speaks, he feels something brush against his leg. “Hold on! We’re not alone in here.”

“What?”

Gareth doesn’t have to explain. A pale white tentacle thicker than his arm shoots out of the water, wrapping around his leg. With a jerk, it pulls him flat on his back and under the water. 

Luckily for Gareth, his _ring of adaptation_ prevents him from swallowing any of the fluid in surprise, and he hacks at the tentacle with Kizmet. The blade bites deep into the tentacle, and promptly sticks there.

His startled companions also strike at the tentacle as well as they can in the restricted space and with the intervening fluid and muck, as well as the fact that most of it is wrapped around the paladin’s leg. 

As they are striking at it, another one snakes out of the water and grabs onto Korm too, who seconds later has his sword too stuck to it. The adventurers note that as each blow hits, green fluid oozes from the wound and a network of vein-like green color shoots up the tentacle and across the nearby wall. Not that they have time to pause and study it now.

Things don’t improve much as Luna reflexively turns into a bear, almost flattening Trillia with her increasing bulk and making space even more of a premium than it already is. Especially since one of the walls shudders and slowly begins to close in on the others.

“Screw this!” shouts Trillia. “Let’s get out of here!” She gestures and a coating of _grease_ covers Gareth, which allows him to slide his way out of tentacle’s grasp. Only to discover that Kizmet is still stuck to it and his locked gauntlet means that he is too. “Damn!”

Luna growls her agreement for the sentiment, though it is slightly muffled by the fact that she has her mouth and both front paws stuck to the tentacle on Korm. 

Six, having noted in all the thrashing around that the tentacles are growing out of the floor and walls, says, “Good idea. I’m attacking the sphincter!”

Korm, having grabbed onto his attached sword and trying to push down and drive it deeper into the tentacle, mutters, “That may be the first time I heard _that_ move as a tactical option.”

Ignoring the comment, Six strikes repeatedly at the sphincter, ripping deep slashes into it and the nearby wall. Immediately, deep green fluid gushes from the wound and the entire chamber shudders. A second later, the sphincter slides open. The thrashing, and by now mostly severed, tentacles release their targets and retract into the water, releasing the attached swords and bear. 

The group hurries out through the sphincter into the ten foot square area beyond and part of the way up the flight of stairs leading out of it, before the sphincter slams shut behind them. 

“Probably another mimic,” says Trillia, calling up a _prestidigitation_ to clean herself.

“This place really has strange mimics,” says Korm.

“Strange everything!” says Gareth.

The group proceeds cautiously up the staircase, applying healing magic as needed on the way. The stairs ascend for about fifty feet, before ending in a long tunnel. It twists and turns for a bit, with no turn-offs or doorways, before coming to a crossroads, each tunnel of which stretches beyond the group’s torches or darkvision. After a little discussion, they head down the left fork. 

They travel for over a hundred feet without a turn, before those in the group with keener hearing pick up the soft sounds of moaning coming from up ahead.

The group moves forward, to see that the tunnel ends at a large doorway, beyond which is a bridge that extends a hundred feet to another doorway. The moaning, with an odd sob or shriek, comes from chamber below, as does the smell of refuse. 

The group cautiously looks in at the floor of the chamber thirty feet below, dimly lit by crystals set into walls. The entire floor is covered in giant fungi, standing six to eight feet high, many of them with something attached to them. 

After a few seconds, the watchers realize that what look like fungi are actually hobgoblins and bugbears, which seem to have been fused with a fungal mass. Small vestigial arms hang down uselessly and they seem to have no eyes. They do have relatively normal noses and mouths, as already evidenced by the moaning. What floats above them seem to be dozens of embryos, complete with placenta and umbilical cord, the latter attached to one of the fungal creatures. 

The Angels study the chamber for a while and then discuss whether to head back and take another route. Nobody is very keen to venture in. The decision to turn back is hastened by half a dozen of the closest embryos, which detach from the fungi and begin to float quickly towards the bridge.

Seeing six of the creatures floating into the entrance to the tunnel behind the group, Gareth turns and charges them, almost cutting one in half with Kizmet. The one he hit screams and then opens its eyes, which are completely blank white orbs. It emits an anticipatory gurgle and quickly swells in size, till it is the size of a small dwarf, while a  large rubbery pair of champing, tooth-filled jaws expand from its mouth. 

The creature bites at Gareth, and its floating umbilical cord simultaneously lashes out. The cord splits into ten thinner pieces as it strikes, each of them tipped with a small red claw. As the surprised Gareth cries out, each of the other five creatures follows suit, enveloping him in a hail* of claw attacks. In seconds, Gareth is covered in gore, his magical armor and multiple protective spells barely keeping him alive. The paralytic venom that he fights off is only icing on the cake.

As he staggers back, Korm yells, “Get between Gareth and the babies!” As Six, Luna and he rush to the rescue, he mutters, “Never thought I’d get to use that battlecry either!” 

Trillia drops a _black tentacles_ spell in the rear, catching three of the creatures. The others quickly dispose of the remaining three, though not before all of them are at least somewhat bloodied.

Standing back a few seconds later and watching the _tentacles_ squeeze the creatures into mush, Korm says, “What in the Hells were those things?!”**

“I don’t know. And I don’t need to know,” says Gareth shakily. “Different route?”

“_Definitely_ different route.”

The Angels retrace their steps to the last junction and follow the next tunnel. After a couple of twists and turns, they hear dolgrim voices ahead and pull back to make a plan. 

The four unfortunate dolgrims on guard duty almost die of fright when a large warforged rushes soundlessly around the nearby corner, followed by a muscular orc and then a bear. The two humans in the rear are barely noticed.

A few seconds later, Six closes his fist around the coin with a _silence_ spell that he was carrying, waves the terrified dolgrim hanging from his other hand at Trillia, and says, “Ask away.”

The interrogation happens very quickly, the biggest opposition mustered by the dolgrims consisting of an ever-growing pool of urine around the Angels’ feet. It is evident, even without Gareth’s ability to _detect thoughts_, that the dolgrims are not lying.

Apparently they are one among a number of guard groups posted around the area, since Naxaliyen has called a meeting of various aberration leaders at the seal. The dolgrims do not belong to his faction—the creatures in the city dwell in separate groups led by one or more powerful aberrations—and do not know what the meeting is for.

The dolgrims quickly provide the Angels with directions to the seal chamber, as well as the information that they will run into another such group on the way. They are just as quickly rewarded by being summarily dispatched.

The Angels proceed, following the given directions. Reaching the area where they expect the next set of guards, they are greeted with silence. And then with the sight of four dead dolgrims. Each has an expression of absolute terror on its face and a trickle of blood running from its mouth. 

“O-kay,” says Trillia slowly, “What happened here?”

Six casts around and says, “No tracks,” and Korm adds, “No wounds on them.” 

“This place just gets weirder,” says Gareth, with a corroborating growl from Luna. “Let’s head on.”

A couple minutes later, the group reaches a closed door, which should lead into the seal chamber. Listening at the door, Six says that he hears the murmuring of many voices. After some discussion and the casting of multiple preparatory spells, which includes turning everyone _invisible_, they carefully open the door and look in.

“Damn!” 

* Gareth took 66 attacks in one round. I don’t think I’ll ever beat that record.
** Mechanically just grell with a couple extra HD.


----------



## shilsen

*The Rescue of Nameless, Pt. 2*

The huge chamber the Angels look into is roughly circular, stretching more than 500 ft across and standing over a hundred feet deep. Giant crystals are set into the ceiling and walls of the cavern, bathing it in a pale blue light. There are multiple entrances, most at the bottom but some entering on balconies thirty or sixty feet above the ground, with stairs leading down. They are looking in from one of the latter. 

The chamber is dominated by what seems to be a giant mound of pale flesh in the center, a hundred feet across. Grown in the shape of a four-sided ziggurat, it rises in multiple levels to a height of sixty feet, with a steep ramp on two opposing sides making the ascent easier. Each corner has a pillar-like structure that extends all the way to the ceiling. Set into the top of the mound is a circular structure marked with crystals and sigils of various kinds, which the Angels instantly recognize as a dimensional seal.

More than the seal, their attention is drawn by the occupants of the chamber. Approximately a hundred dolgrims are in the cavern, divided into three clear groups, which stand equidistantly from each other near the chamber’s walls. Each group also contains four dolgaunts, standing closer to the central mound and fully focused on the very distinctive group that stands beside it.

The group includes two mind flayers, one with the amputated tentacles and the single eye that the Angels recognize from the battle with Naxaliyen’s “messengers”, and another with tentacles intact but also with a single eye, which Trillia whispers is the one she saw while _scry_ing, probably Naxaliyen. He seems to be animatedly discussing or arguing with the large bulbous creature floating before him, its large staring eye and writhing eye-topped stalks instantly identifying it as a beholder. What looks like a large black cloak with a protruding, bony tail, floats lazily back and forth beside them, and two large muscular ogres (each with a head topped with a fringe of tentacles) in spiky plate-mail stand nearby. Also nearby is a ten foot high and long structure, roughly cubical in size. It constantly shifts and emits a buzzing sound, and it takes a few seconds before the Angels realize that it seems to be completely made of flies, clustered together into a solid, yet malleable mass. A somewhat louder buzzing sound emerges from within it, and when Naxaliyen turns to address it, they realize that the structure, or something within it, is actually joining in the conversation.

Despite all of these singular individuals, the two who most draw the _invisible_ watchers’ eyes are the two who stand closest to the ziggurat. A couple of steps behind Naxaliyen stands the dolgaunt who originally accompanied the mimic-wagon, with the floating eye buzzing around his head. One of his tentacles sways back and forth idly, but the other is wrapped securely around the throat of Nameless, who stands quietly beside him. Nameless gives no sign of any interest in the ongoing discussion but simply stands there placidly.

Seeing him, the Angels pull back for a quick discussion. “Okay - what do we do?” asks Trillia. “I’d have suggested me _dimension door_ing all of us right next to him and grabbing him, but I don’t want to risk ending up back in that chamber we appeared in.”

“And there’s that damn beholder,” says Korm. “One look from that eye and we aren’t _teleport_ing anywhere.”  

Luna, having shifted back to her normal form, asks, “What about if just I or a couple of us, fly out there, grab Nameless and fly back in here? And then we can leave whatever way works best. If we’re invisible we can surprise them.”

Korm shakes his head. “As soon as we get out there, the bloody dolgaunts will know we’re there.”

“There’s also the issue of the Shard,” reminds Gareth. “We have to get that too. It‘s definitely here, since we all started feeling better once we reappeared here, but what if Naxaliyen doesn’t have it?”

As the discussion is proceeding, Six, who has been keeping an eye on events outside, says, “Hey! The beholder’s leaving!”

The others hurry to see that he is correct, with the large creature flying straight up to the ceiling, where an unseen doorway opens and lets it through, revealing sunlight beyond for a few seconds before it shuts. Naxaliyen watches it go and then makes a gesture that even in a mind flayer is obviously irritated dismissal. He then turns and says something to Nameless, who promptly produces the Shard from within his clothes and heads towards the nearby ramp, the dolgaunt walking beside him.

“Crap!” says Trillia, “He’s going for the seal. Must be mind-controlled or something. We’ve got to go now!”

The Angels quickly swig a last couple of potions, Trillia _haste_s the group and they all _fly_ out, heading for the ziggurat as fast as they can. With the combination of spells, within seconds they are most of the way to it.

But, as Korm mentioned, they do not approach undetected. As soon as they leave the safety of the tunnel, all eight dolgaunts in the two closest groups snap their heads around and stare in their direction, and the one accompanying Nameless up the ramp does so as well. A second later, it yells a warning in daelkyr. Naxaliyen throws a surprised glance in the direction it points and then shouts instructions in various directions. He ends by hurrying up the ramp after the dolgaunt, which continues with Nameless, who shows no signs of noticing the commotion. One ogre follows him, while the other takes up a position near the other mind flayer, who raises a hand and prepares a spell against the first enemy who reveals himself. The cloaker rises cautiously to intercept the flying attackers, unsure where they are. Strangest of all, the structure made of flies slowly slouches its way towards the ziggurat, their buzzing rising in timbre.

The Angels have over two hundred feet to cover, and as they zoom down on the ziggurat, over fifty crossbows send a hail of bolts to meet them. Despite the _invisibility_ and layers of magical protections, a couple of the Angels take minor wounds along the way. Amusingly, some of the dolgrims firing are not as lucky, being nailed by falling bolts fired by another group.

Six, in the lead, starts off things by dropping a smokestick, enveloping the waiting spell caster (and ruining his opportunity to cast a spell) and the ogre beside it. The warforged doesn’t pause, flying down to land on the top of the ziggurat, snapping out his spiked chain to await the dolgaunt and Nameless. A little distance behind him, Luna drops a _flame strike_ around Naxaliyen and the ogre following him. Naxaliyen bursts through the flames without a pause, untouched by them, but the ogre growls in pain. The dolgaunt shouts a warning to him, pointing at the _invisible_ Six, and Naxaliyen pushes by Nameless and him. He stares in the direction of Six and the warforged feels a blast of mental energy assault his mind, which he barely resists. 

Now close enough to detect some of the others, the cloaker emits a strange moan, that slightly nauseates both Korm and Gareth, but both of them shake it off. Gareth dives at it and slashes it powerfully. Korm, deciding that stopping Nameless by any method is worth it, swoops away and replicates Luna’s _flame strike_, this one around Naxaliyen, the dolgaunt and Nameless. The former again ignores the magic, but both of the others are scorched, though they remain upright. Naxaliyen looks around at all the enemies appearing and then shouts. Though it is unclear who he is calling to, Trillia translates worriedly, “He’s asking for someone to send him the beholders! Plural!” She follows up by conjuring three pseudonatural wolves, two on the ramp and one next to the others on the ground.

The battle devolves into a chaotic melee. And not just at the ziggurat. Six, in the best position to see the dolgaunts and dolgrims swarming towards the battle, sees one group stop as screams of pain and fear erupt among them. Those in the lead stop and turn to see what’s going on, while the next group also stops in confusion. Six catches a glimpse of something red moving through and among them, but the numbers make it impossible to catch details, and he flies into the melee.

The crowded ramp becomes even more so as the two druids fly down to join the fight. Korm cuts the dolgaunt in half, dropping it twitching to the ground. As its tentacle falls off Nameless, they reveal a large red mark on the back of his neck, and he continues to try to head up the ramp with the Key in hand. Luna reaches down with a large paw to grab him, but a strange spell from the mind flayer wizard, who has finally wandered out of the smoke, simultaneously _dispel_s and hurts her, sending her crashing down. The bear barely grabs onto the ramp and avoids falling. Nameless falls to his knees and then staggers up again. A large wolf falls past her, knocked flying off the ramp by an ogre’s sword. Korm only avoids the same fate due to his _fly_ spell, being knocked backwards but landing in mid-air.

Gareth, meanwhile, cuts down his enemy, but only has a moment of relief. As the cloaker falls in a heap, a huge hole appears in the structure of flies and a ten-foot long creature comes flying out. It looks like a ten-foot long fly, except for the single multifaceted eye that crowns its bulbous head. As it nears Gareth, it breathes a stream of acid that sizzles painfully on his skin. He catches it with a powerful blow and then it rips into him with its clawed forelimbs and clutching him with its others.

Six, having landed a blow on Naxaliyen, discovers that the aberration leader is almost unhittable as soon as he can see the attacker, dodging his blows with ease. “Luna - try to grab him!” he shouts, but even as the growling bear clambers onto the ramp and prepares to attack, the wizard hurls an _orb of fire_ burning her and dazing her, so that she stumbles and almost falls again. 

Looking down at the wizard, Six now sees past him what the distraction for the dolgrims is. Dozens of them lie dead, along with a few dolgaunts, and most are fleeing in terror. Rising from among the dead is a wraithlike red figure that he recognizes immediately. Six shouts gleefully, waving his chain, “Snookums is here!” Even as he speaks, the strange creature charges into one of the small groups of dolgrims that remain. Urged on by shouting dolgaunts, the dolgrims unleash a volley of bolts that shoot right through the creature. Seemingly unaffected, it simply flies into and through the group. As if passes through a series of dolgrims and a dolgaunt, all of them fall screaming and writhing to the ground. Seconds later, only one of them remains alive, painfully crawling away.

As the other Angels glance at their unexpected ally, they catch sight of a possibly even more unexpected enemy. A few seconds earlier, a gaping hole had appeared in the far side of the ziggurat, with a loud buzzing sound emerging from it, but nobody has been at leisure to investigate. The buzzing grows louder, and the Angels see a beholder emerge. Along with approximately three hundred more. It is a swarm of beholders, each about six inches wide.

Trillia stares at the swarm and sums up the Angels’s collective opinion. “What the crap?!”*

Korm, giving the swarm a wary look and flying down to cut at Naxaliyen, sees the mind flayer sway away and then strike back, his tentacles slamming into the big orc’s face. Korm tries to pull back, but Naxaliyen skillfully wraps the tentacles around him. Six, seeing that Naxaliyen cannot as easily dodge his attacks, strikes deep into the mind flayer’s back, but he holds on. 

Gareth has similar problems, the fly creature’s grasp making it impossible for him to strike it. Trying to buy time, the paladin calls on Kizmet’s healing ability. As some of his wounds close, Gareth calls down to the others, “Some help here?”

“I’m on it,” says Trillia, sending an _orb of cold_ arcing up to strike the huge fly. Already wounded, it shudders and falls, Gareth barely managing to extricate himself from its weakening grasp. Even before it hits the ground, Trillia turns to encase Korm with a layer of quickened _grease_.

Korm feels Nayaliyen’s tentacles begin to lose their grip on his suddenly slippery skull, but before he can escape, the swarm of beholders envelops them. None of the creatures have any eye stalks as larger beholders do, but apparently the antimagic properties of their large central eye remains, though the range is severely limited. Not only does the _grease_ on Korm disappear, but so do the magical protections on him and the others. A surprised Luna suddenly finds herself back in shifter form, while Six drops and barely catches himself on the edge of the ramp. The one wolf remaining on the ramp promptly disappears as well.

Naxaliyen’s tentacles take a tighter grip and then begin to burrow into Korm’s skull. Now with none of his magical protections, Korm falls back on the berserker blood of his ancestors. With a bestial roar, he hurls himself forward, lifting a startled Naxaliyen off his feet and taking both of them over the ramp’s edge. As they fall, the pair falls outside the effect of the mini-beholders’ gaze, and Korm feels his strength and health magically augmented again. Naxaliyen’s tentacles dig deeper and deeper, but through the pain Korm concentrates on keeping the mind flayer on the bottom as they fall, smashing him against the ledges of the ziggurat.

The battle pauses temporarily, the others watching in a combination of horror and hope as the two entwined enemies come to a stop on the bottom level. For a moment Korm thinks the bruised and bloody mind flayer is done, but then Naxaliyen stirs. His one eye glares balefully into Korm’s and the mind flayer sinks all of his tentacles into the druid’s brain**. Korm stiffens and goes limp.*** 

Naxaliyen, too weak to rip out his enemy’s brain, rises painfully to his feet. Flinging Korm away disdainfully, he prepares to command the mind flayer wizard, already into the motions of a new spell, but another spellcaster is outside the area of the beholder swarm.

“You’re dead,” says Trillia in daelkyr, and completes a spell. Instantly, a pair of pseudonatural bison appear on either side of Naxaliyen. As the mind flayer leader opens his mouth to scream, the two creatures hurl forward, smashing him between them into a crumpled, lifeless mass.

The mind flayer wizard shouts, “Get out!” and immediately _dimension door_s away. The surviving ogre turns and runs (unfortunately for him, right into Snookums), and even the beholder swarm floats away, heading back towards the orifice they emerged from.

With no enemies immediately attacking them, the Angels grab Nameless (whom Luna has knocked out in the interim) and the near-lifeless Korm. The mangled body of Naxaliyen is quickly secured as well.

“Do we risk _teleport_ing?” asks Trillia.

“Do it,” nods Six. “That mind flayer did a _dimension door_, you said, so either it works on the way out. Or it’s in that garbage room and we can surprise the hell out of it!”

“Okay.” Trillia quickly shrinks everyone and prepares to cast a _teleport_.

As she is casting, the opening at the top of the chamber opens and this time three beholders appear, all normal size. “Too late,” says Trillia, as she completes her spell. As the Angels fade away, their last sight is the spectral wraith charging the beholders, eyebeams ripping away parts of its incorporeal form as it speeds towards them. 

A second later, they reappear in Trillia’s laboratory. As soon as they do, the red splotch on Nameless’s neck, which they can now see is a scarab-like creature, crumbles to dust and falls off. Nameless shakes his head confusedly and his eyes focus. 

“What happened?” 

Six, kneeling beside the recumbent Korm, looks up and says, “Korm’s brain came out his ears, that’s what happened.”

* The player expressions when I said, “You see beholders. Three hundred of them.” was just beautiful. I wish I’d had a camera.   
** Korm’s player, in keeping with his regular form, rolled a natural 1 on his grapple check.
*** Action pt keeps someone alive again.


----------



## shilsen

Once Trillia has explained a little about what occurred while he was gone, Nameless says that Naxaliyen mind-probed him and learned what the Key did, and then left with it. He is next memory was being back in Trillia’s chamber with the others, though he now retrospectively remembers what occurred during the battle. Though unaware of it at the time, he now recalls it as if he had been a silent spectator throughout it. Nameless doesn’t mention the fact that the rest of his memories, to the best of his knowledge, have now been restored.

“Naxaliyen’s not a problem any more,” says Six, indicating the mind flayer’s battered corpse, “But since that mind flayer wizard got away, do you want to go back and take him out for safety’s sake?” Though Six’s metal face cannot grin, the expression is clear in his voice. “And revenge, of course.”

“Yes!” says Korm emphatically, just having emerged from the _rejuvenation cocoon_ without any holes in his skull, “I like this whole ‘_teleport_ and decapitate aberrations’ strategy.” 

Luna gives a feral grin and says, “I would have said _teleport_ and _flame strike_, but I think it’s a damn good idea.”

“Me too,” says Gareth, and for once Nameless agrees with him. “Yes,” says the alienist, “I think that is definitely worth doing.”

The only person who doesn’t seem that enthused with the prospect is Trillia. “Do you really think that’s necessary? With Naxaliyen dead, I doubt that one—who seemed like a follower to him—will try something.” A little reluctantly, she adds, “Though admittedly it can _teleport_, it seems.”

“Yes,” says Nameless, “And if we can _scry_ them they can _scry_ us.”

Trillia sighs and says, “Honestly, I’d rather not go back there. We all got out alive this time and I’d rather not push our luck. We did recover a number of valuable things and I learned some useful information. Some of the things on that mimic-wagon will keep me busy for a while. Still, since going there in the first place was my idea, if you do want to return I’ll come along and help.”

The discussion is interrupted by the entrance of her steward Glauster, with an unexpected visitor. It is Bodo, and he excitedly hurries up to and greets the group. “Hi, Gareth! I haven’t seen you in days! Hello, Luna! Nameless - oooh, what happened to you? You look like !”

Gareth smacks him on the back of the head and says, “Be polite,” drawing an aggrieved “Ow! I was just being concerned - he really does look like !” Bodo quickly sidesteps the next smack.

Glauster, who has been trying vainly to speak over Bodo, looks at Trillia and says, “This boy said he had a message from the Archierophant for Gareth, so I let him in. Is that all right?”

“Yes, Glauster, that’s fine.”

“A message?” asks Gareth.

“Yes. The Archierophant was going to send you a message and since a lot of people there know that I know you and I was on a break, they decided to send me.” Bodo beams and adds, “Which is great. I haven’t seen you in days, and the rest of you in ages! Plus I get to miss a couple of classes!”

Gareth looks disapproving at the latter information. “So what is the message?”

“The Archierophant wants to know heard you’d come looking for her yesterday and wanted to know what it was for. She’ll be there today between 3 and 4 if you want to meet her.” Bodo plops down on a couch. “So, what _is_ going on? What happened to Nameless? And can I get some food. I’m hungry!”

A couple of the others chuckle at the obstreperous boy, and Trillia opens her mouth to ask Glauster for some refreshments, but Gareth forestalls her. “You need to go back to the Cathedral now. Trillia, could Glauster take him back there, if you don’t mind?”

The expression on Glauster’s face says that he definitely does, but it pales next to Bodo’s cry of anguish. “Gareth! I told you I’m on a break and I haven’t seen you guys in so long. Come on!”

“No,” says Gareth sternly, ignoring Bodo’s continued arguments. Trillia shrugs and tells Glauster to do the needful. 

As the steward leads his mournful charge away, Six suddenly says, “Bodo - I’ll walk you to the door,” and follows the two out. Once they are out of the door, he asks quietly, “Bodo - do you know someone called Thurik Davandi?”

Bodo scratches his head. “He’s one of the city councilors, right? A gnome. I don’t really know anything specific about him. Why?”

“I just need a little information about him. Do you think you could do some checking for me?” Six extends a hand and a silver piece suddenly appears in it.

Bodo grins broadly, his earlier glumness gone. “Sure. Anything in particular you want to know?”

“No. Anything you can find out.” Six chuckles. “Maybe you could write a report on him for something at school.”

“Yeah. I didn’t think about it. There’s this one boring class about civics, where I could use it for Sharn politics.” Bodo looks a little more excited. “Anyone else you could use a report on?”

“Let’s just start with this one, shall we?”

“Sure, Six. No problem. See you soon. And put in a good word for me with Gareth and get him to let me hang out with you guys again. I‘m being good with school but this is way more fun.”

“I’ll try,” says Six, thinking, _Unfortunately, not a chance of it happening._

The big warforged heads back to the others, just in time for the start of an argument between, as usual, Gareth and Nameless. The latter, on asking where the Key is, has been informed that Gareth picked it up. And when he asks Gareth to return it, the paladin refuses, saying that Nameless is too risky a person to carry it, since he’s already lost it twice, once via mugging and now to the mind flayer. Nameless responds that Gareth’s hardly any safer, bringing up his mugging and kidnapping in Grayflood and the fact that Nameless can escape magically as Gareth cannot. Which is then followed by mutual statements of a lack of trust in the other, Gareth saying that Nameless might be mind-controlled to use the Key, which the others cannot, while Nameless says he fears that Gareth might hand it over to the Archierophant.

Korm and Six reluctantly join in and try to persuade Gareth to let one of them carry it as a compromise, while Luna glowers at the two and mutters something about them being a serious pain in the ass and being tempted to _flame strike_ both of them. Trillia simply watches, grins and shakes her head.

As is usually the case, the argument goes nowhere and the group settles for Gareth temporarily carrying the Key. The group then heads out, to take care of various tasks, one of them being getting the ill effects of Nameless’s interrogation by Naxaliyen taken care of. 

Though Gareth offers to speak to the Archierophant in that regard, Nameless says he’d rather just visit the Jorasco enclave in Dragon Towers and pay. He does so, quickly ending up in front of a dragonmarked halfling healer. 

The healer asks Nameless how he obtained his condition, since customers asking for a _restoration_ are rare. Nameless evades the question, simply saying, “I’ve just had a very rough day and would rather not talk about it.”

“Very well,” says the halfling, seemingly unperturbed by the lack of information. “This’ll only take a few seconds.” He places a hand on Nameless’s shoulder and concentrates, and the watchers see the dragonmark on his arm turn darker in color, giving off a surge of heat that Nameless can feel. The alienist also feels a warmth envelop his body momentarily, and when it passes, he feels substantially more healthy. He thanks the healer, hands over the payment and leaves.

Nameless and Gareth then proceed to the Cathedral, where they meet Ythana Morr in her office. She inquires about their situation and asks Gareth why he needed the scrolls. Gareth explains in some detail about their visit to Yarkuun Draal, which the Archierophant isn’t really aware of. 

She seems quite concerned about the temporary loss of the Key, but doesn’t say much about it besides mentioning that they need to take much better care of it. Then she looks at Nameless. “I presume you are not ready to hand it over to my safekeeping?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” replies Nameless calmly.

Ythana holds his gaze and then says, “At least you are honest.” The tone of voice says that it is only a minor saving grace. Turning to Gareth, she adds, “As I have said before, it is your choice, but it is a great responsibility. Remember that I am here to aid you.”

“Speaking of which,” she continues, “I have a proposition for you. Your position here, as a Karrnathi, as someone who is not truly a member of our congregation, but also as a valuable member of the Church, is a nebulous one. Would you consider becoming a templar of the Flame?”

Gareth is momentarily surprised, but quickly responds that while the offer honors him, he is not sure how it would impact his personal choices and the work he needs to do, as well as his plan to join House Deneith. 

While not apparently displeased at the news, Ythana says that if he is to be a member of the Deneith Blade mark (the mercenary branch), then it is difficult to see how he could serve as a templar as well. Gareth explains that he presumes he would end up in the Defender’s Guild (protective services to individuals) and has been informed that he will have certain freedoms, due to his religious affiliation. The Archierophant says that then the offer from her remains open, and he should consider it and let her know what she thinks.

She also asks Nameless if he and the other Angels would be willing to work with Gareth if she finds an assignment for him. “After all,” she says, “People with your group’s unique talents are in very short supply, even in Sharn.”

“That would definitely be possible,” replies Nameless, “As long as we’re not busy with some other situation.”

“Very well. Incidentally, Gareth, you should stop by Coldflame Keep sometime. I think you‘ll be pleasantly surprised.”

Gareth says he will do so and asks where he can make a donation to the Cathedral. Ythana tells him to do so to the priest on duty at this time. Gareth also asks about Bodo’s education, saying that he fears Bodo might be getting too much free rein. Ythana reassures him that’s unlikely to be the case, considering the severity of the Master of Novices, who deals with such matters.

With that, she dismisses the two. On the way out, Gareth donates 250 galifars to a pleased priest, and then heads off to Carosten Park with Nameless. 

Korm and Luna are already there, having headed there from the Jorasco enclave. Surr’kal meets them, eager to know what happened during the rescue attempt. He appears very relieved at the recovery of Nameless and the Key, politely adding that the group really needs to work out what to do with it and that he is eagerly awaiting Gurr’khan’s return. 

Six, meanwhile, is back in the Deathsgate district, looking for a good taxidermist. He finds a shop not far from Trillia’s home, which apparently caters to the adventurers of the Deathsgate Guild (according to a plaque on the door). The quality of the work, as evidenced by the trophies that line the walls, is quite good and Six asks the owner and primary taxidermist how much he’d charge to mount a mind flayer.

The man stares at Six for a moment and then says, “Okay, who sent you? Are you from the Sharn Inquisitive? Is this a joke?”

Six reassures him that’s not the case, and when convinced of the warforged’s veracity, the taxidermist is very excited. He doesn’t hide the fact that nobody he knows of has got to stuff a mind flayer, and it will be a significant benefit for him professionally to have done so. The eventual price he sets is a hundred galifars, with a full refund if anything goes wrong, and the chance to buy the damaged mind flayer. Though a little suspicious about the last bit, Six says he will speak to his companions and return.

Once the Angels reconvene and are on their way back to Trillia’s, they find a huge hubbub and commotion everywhere. Rumors are flying around about an assassination attempt on King Boranel and Queen Aurala during the latter’s visit to Wroat. By the time they reach Trillia’s, the adventurers have heard many stories, ranging from the death of both monarchs and the declaration of war on Karrnath, which sent the assassins (Gareth’s obvious accent draws dirty looks from those relating this story), to different stories that each say one is dead and Aundair and Breland are going to war, to the more positive one that both are fine.

Within a couple of hours, official heralds are speaking at skybridge junctions, proclaiming that the monarchs are both fine and reminding people to stay calm. They promise that official details about the affair will be available early the next day.

Despite the reassurances, Gareth still picks up a few dirty looks on the way to Coldflame Keep that evening, some for being Karrnathi and some for wearing the symbols of the Flame and presumably being Thranish in origin. 

When he reaches Coldflame Keep, Gareth finds numerous workmen moving around and renovation work in progress. Mazin Tana greets Gareth and thanks him, saying that the Archierophant sent a substantial amount of money for improving the place, which must have happened due to Gareth’s advocacy. He soon has reason for further thanks, as Gareth provides him with another donation of 250 galifars towards the temple.

When Gareth asks about him, Mazin says that Cedric is away. There has always been a hermit priest of the Silver Flame guarding the white obelisk called Warden Tower, which stands among the mausoleums and crypts of the so-called City of the Dead, where the people of Sharn used to be entombed in the cliffs to the north (whereas they are commonly cremated now). Cedric knows the current Warden, a priestess called Gaia, and has gone up to visit her. He will be staying the night there and should be back the next day. 

When Gareth returns and tells the others, Nameless grins and says, “Staying the night? Knowing Cedric, I can’t imagine why!”


----------



## shilsen

*The (Short, and Not So Sweet) Return of Desro*

The next morning, Gareth and the two druids, having spent the night at Coldflame Keep and Carosten Park respectively, arrive at Trillia’s simultaneously to find a small sack nailed to her door. 

When they give it to Trillia, she says she has no idea who it’s from and asks them to check it for unwelcome surprises and open it. Nameless _detect_s no magic and Six opens the sack to find two boxes inside. As he opens the larger one, a magical explosion rocks him. After the smoke clears, Nameless says, “Must have had a spell to mask it. Sneaky!” 

After he heals Six, the latter checks to find a note and a map. The note reads, “This is Dala. My kidnappers want me to write this note to show that I am still alive. They say that you have something of theirs and if you want to see me alive, you will come and meet them here. They will put the location in another note. They have told me that you have returned safely to Sharn. Please save me. I am counting on you. Dala”

“Great!” says Trillia, “I’d wondered why she didn’t show up yesterday to check on what happened with the Key. Now we know!”

“Wait,” points out Six, “There’s more.”

Below the first part of the note, in different writing, it says: “Wish I’d seen the looks on your faces when the glyph went off. Oh, come on - it was funny. And I’m sure you’re all fine. Seems you’ve been getting famous since we last met. I’ve been doing well too. We need to talk about a mutually beneficial proposition I have. I’m sending you a map, and Dala and I’ll be there at 6 pm. Don’t bring backup, since I’ll consider that a breach of trust. And don’t keep me waiting, since I might get bored and have to entertain myself with your little friend. In fact, I did get a little bored already, as you’ll see in the box. Consider it a sign of my seriousness. Your former acquaintance. Desro.”

“Who’s Desro?” asks Korm.

“One that got away,” says Nameless. “He’s actually the reason we met Gurr’khan. We were trying to collect the bounty on him and fought Desro right after he killed Gurr’khan’s apprentice and broke into the dimensional seal he guards. Broke Gareth’s sword and _dimension door_ed away. He’s a cleric of the Traveler.”

“Evil cleric,” adds Gareth.

“I almost caught him,” says Luna. “Maybe this time…”

“Oh, nice!” says Six, having opened the smaller box. It contains a little toe, evidently taken from a right foot. 

“I see this one needs killing,” says Korm grimly. “I wonder why he decided to kidnap Dala. Where does he want to meet us?”

Six smoothes open the enclosed hand-drawn map. It begins with an entrance to the Ashblack Cogs and provides directions to a large chamber in a part of Khyber’s Gate. 

While the others are examining it, Nameless re-reads the note and notices something strange about the section from Dala. Some of the letters look slightly off-center.* After a few seconds of consideration, Nameless picks up a pattern. “Hey!” he says, “There’s a coded message in here.”

“Huh?”

“Dala stuck a coded message in here. Very smart of her.”

“What does it say?”

“Let’s see … it says … ‘Three of them. One cleric. One wizard. Be careful.’ I guess the cleric is Desro.”

“Makes sense.”

“Anyway,” continues Nameless, “I’d like some more information before we do anything. I’ll try to _scry_ Dala once I have my spells ready.”

While they are discussing the situation with Dala, Glauster brings in the special one-page report on the assassination attempt that has been published by the Korranberg Chronicle. The report confirms that there was a failed assassination attempt on King Boranel and Queen Aurala, as well as a planned terrorist attack on Scion’s Gate South. The two Scion’s Gates (one in Fairhaven and one in Wroat) are mirror images of each other and were built as a sign of solidarity between the two nations. Scion’s Gate South was destroyed during the War and has just been rebuilt. Queen Aurala was in Wroat for the opening, which many Aundairans had issues with, since her visit was seen as giving too much importance to Breland. 

According to the report, a group of militant Aundairans planned an assassination of both Aurala and Boranel, as well as the destruction of the rebuilt monument, hoping to cause further turmoil between the nations. The plan was reportedly hatched in Sharn, but a double agent planted by the King’s Citadel discovered the plans. As a result of this pre-information, the assassination attempts and the planned destruction of Scion’s Gate were foiled. Deneith Sentinel Marshals guarding Boranel had a major part in the action, including the well-known twins Lalia and Tasra from Sharn. The KC can’t confirm it, but it believes that the brave Citadel double agent was a half-orc named Raskalorn, who remained with the terrorists to keep feeding the Citadel and Sentinel Marshals info, and was regrettably killed by the terrorists during the operation. He is due to be buried with full military honors.

The report also includes opinions from various relevant sources. Unsurprisingly, the Brelish sources are discussing the quality of their security service, the loyalty of the Brelish people (who are clearly too loyal to assassinate their ruler), and their protection of the Aundairan queen. Just as unsurprisingly, Aundairan sources are much less happy, ranging from comments that the Citadel should have revealed the plot as soon as detected without putting Aurala in danger, to suspicion that the Brelish made the plot seem more dangerous for political capital, to even an accusation or two that the entire thing was faked by Breland. 

After they have read the entire report, Six asks, “Wasn’t Raskalorn the guy we helped that Citadel guy capture?”

“Talleon,” reminds Nameless. “And yes.”

“So you really think he was a double agent?” asks Luna.

“Not a chance,” says Gareth. “I’m guessing they’re just using the story to dispose of him neatly. He was probably dead by the time this occurred.”

“I love the way things are done in your cities,” says Korm with a scowl. “At least in the Marches all you have to worry about is running into the odd hungry beast and one of the wilder tribes going on the warpath.”

“Now you know why I want to go and live in a forest,” agrees Six. “At least when Gurr’khan returns, we may get a chance to see your Marches.”

The next couple of hours are spent making preparations for the evening meeting with Desro. Nameless attempts a _scry_ing from Trillia’s sanctum but all he sees in the ornate mirror is a dull gray haze. “She didn’t just resist it on reflex,” he explains. “It’s a protective spell. Probably a _Private Sanctum_.” 

Trillia, who has politely explained that she’ll be happy to provide some protective spells but will not be accompanying them (“The stories you guys relate are a lot funnier when one isn’t part of them”), says, “Which means someone there has access to or is capable of casting spells of the 5th valence.”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “I’d like to go there a couple hours early and set an ambush or surprise them.”

“Good idea,” says Six, “But for now, somebody help me stick Naxaliyen in a cart and put something over him. I’ve got to go make the taxidermist have a heart attack, and I don’t want to get arrested on the way.”

***
Luckily, Six isn’t, and a few hours later he is moving carefully through the tunnels near Khyber’s Gate, heading for the rendezvous point. The symbiont that Naxaliyen’s dolgaunt minion used now orbits his head, the mental link he needs to build to use it allowing him to see in the darkness just as Korm’s natural and Gareth’s divinely-granted abilities allow them to do.

A dozen or so turns before the meeting location, Six notices a large “ANGELS” chalked on the tunnel wall, with smaller writing below it. The writing says, “Guess what…,” but before Six can read further there’s a loud explosion around him.

The other Angels, moving through the tunnels some sixty feet behind him, come rushing up at the sound, spells and weapons at the ready. They see a somewhat battered Six standing next to the sign. “Look!” he says disgustedly.

They read the inscription: “Guess what - I prepared _Explosive Runes_ this morning. Man, I crack myself up sometimes! See you soon. Desro.”** 

“This joker really needs killing,” says Korm.

“You’re telling me!” says Six, feeling the dents in his breastplate. 

After repairs are made, the group continues, Six moving ahead as before. A couple of turns after the ‘joke’ trap, the tunnels widen and become less neatly carved. Entering a large, empty chamber with more natural rock formations, Six casts around for tracks and picks up traces indicating that three human-sized creatures had passed through here.

After telling the others what he found, Six heads on. A couple of turns before the supposed meeting area, he enters another such large chamber. As he crosses the entrance, a loud ringing sound begins. As the _alarm_ ceases, Six hears the sounds of movement from around the corner of the sole tunnel exiting the chamber, on the opposite wall but to the side of the entrance. He quickly steps to the side and snaps out his chain, also noting the sound of hurrying feet from his allies.

Moments later, two very recognizable figures enter from the exit tunnel. In the lead is Dala, this time wearing a very ornate set of heavy plate mail, which seems to sit very easily on her thin frame. As does the saw-toothed falchion she holds in her small hands. Behind her walks Warden Balan Cord of the Blackened Book, now garbed in a finely made dark robe with no decorations, though some variations in the shading indicate that there are symbols on the cloth. Six is instantly sure that both are disguises, but if so, they are flawless.

Balan smiles at Six and then at the rest of the Angels, who come racing around the corridor. “Welcome, mighty heroes!” he says pleasantly. The voice too, like the suspected disguise, is perfect. Dala, standing before him with her falchion in a ready stance, says nothing, settling for an anticipatory, feral grin. 

Balan is about to continue, but Nameless forestalls him, casting a spell as soon as he sees the pair. A bead of flame leaps from the alienist’s hands and a _fireball_ envelops the two. As startled and pained cries erupt, the bear Luna turns to give Nameless a dirty look, as if to say, “Wait - that’s my job!”

The flames disappear to reveal an untouched Balan, though Dala looks burned and angry, and battle is promptly joined. 

Things go badly initially, as the Angels make some unwelcome discoveries. Six, leaping in and out to slash Balan across the face, discovers that he has some powerful protection against weapons, since the blow leaves only a scratch on his cheek. As his more martial allies rush forward to join the battle, Nameless is suddenly confronted by Desro, who steps out of the wall of the tunnel to confront him, greatsword at the ready. Nameless quickly backs away, says, “You're not running away this time,” and hits Desro with a _dimensional anchor_.

But the most painful discovery is a positional one. Balan, ignoring Six, steps forward and pulls a small glass rod from his pouch. As he casts, sparks crackle along the rod and then shoot out as a large _lightning bolt_ shoots down the tunnel that the Angels have conveniently arranged themselves in. Apparently Desro has some preplanned protection against it, since he is barely touched by the spell, while the others stagger from the pain. 

Gareth and Korm rush forward, both striking at Dala, who has moved to block their entrance. Gareth lands a powerful blow, but discovers that she has similar protection as Balan. The return blow is even worse, only his armor keeping him from being disemboweled***. Luckily for him, Korm**** responds with an equally powerful slash, and even with Dala’s protections, blood sprays across the chamber.

Korm’s response buys the paladin time to back up out of the fight, letting a growling Luna squeeze past him to join Korm. She swipes powerfully at Dala, and tries to pull her into a bear-hug. To her (painful) surprise, Dala pivots away smoothly, slashing deeply into the reaching paws, again and again.*****

With Dala landing powerful blows on the druids, one of which drops Korm in a bloody heap, Balan providing magical support and Desro assaulting Nameless with nobody to stop him, things look very dire for a moment. But then the situation changes in the blink of an eye, at least partly due to a miscalculation on the part of the enemies.

Desro, though seeing Gareth use Kizmet to heal himself, decides to focus on dropping Nameless first and presses the attack. A deep slash staggers Nameless, but he manages to barely dodge away from the next one. Nevertheless, one more attack like the _lightning bolt_ would probably kill the alienist. Luckily for him, Balan decides to help out Dala, who is being worn down despite her protections. He sends a _scorching ray_ each into Luna and Korm, and then casts a _quickened magic missile_ to drop Nameless.

The five _missile_s zoom at Nameless, and then blink out a foot from him, intercepted by the _shield_ he had cast while running up. This buys him just the time he needs and Nameless does what he excels at, _summon_ing two pseudonatural wolves to assault Desro and Dala. 

Desro, caught off guard, cries out as fangs rip through his armor and then pull him off his feet. Which gives Gareth just the opportunity he needs. Calling to the Flame to strengthen his hand, he strikes down at the prone Desro. Kizmet blazes with silver fire as it strikes, literally cutting the evil cleric in two.

“They’re too strong! We have to get out!” shouts Balan, the shock and fear evident in his voice. Dala, just having been bitten by the wolf and struck by Six, drives Luna back with another blow that almost drops the bear******, and nods. She steps back and Balan touches her shoulder, _dimension door_ing the two away.

Six, his agility and defensive fighting having left him the only Angel completely unscathed, cautiously moves down the corridor Dala and Balan emerged from, checking if there’s any other danger. By the time the others join him, Six has found that the tunnel, after two more turns, ends at a half-open door leading into a central chamber with two doors leading off it, as well as a short corridor with another two doors.

Over the next hour, the Angels search the area, making a number of interesting discoveries. The  first of the rooms is a well-furnished alchemist’s laboratory, and Nameless takes the opportunity to collect a few costly reagents and other useful materials. 

The second room is a combination study and bedroom, simply furnished but comfortable. A chest at the foot of the unmade bed contains a locked, heavy metal box, which Six opens with a key found on Desro. It contains a small folding altar to the Traveler, along with valuable incense, as well as material components and foci for certain divination spells. The Angels recognize it from their first encounter with Desro.

A desk in the room seems to contain nothing of real importance, but Six discovers a small sliding panel. Behind it is a bag that contains 200 galifars, a scroll of spells, an ivory wand, as well as a heavy gold ring with a small dragonshard set into it.

Having identified the spells as _disguise self_, _invisibility_ and _fly_, Nameless says, “Looks like a little stash for escape purposes.”

“Fat lot of good it did him,” smirks Gareth.

Moving on to the corridor, the group finds the first door there to open into a similar room, though this one is much more ornate and comfortable than the first one. It contains two beds, both immaculately made and hardly seeming used. 

There are also a couple of closets that contain collections of fine clothing (one for a man and one for a woman) in them. Six holds up a particularly beautiful—and revealing—glamerweave gown. “Anybody else think Luna would look pretty in this?” The druid, still in bear form, settles for a baleful glare and a growl in response.

The desk in this room contains no hidden compartments that Six can find. Korm, however, finds a crumpled note in the wastebasket, in Desro’s handwriting. It says, without an opening salutation, “I’ve found a job that might be our best one yet. Remember those idiots I told you I fought at the Seal? Well - let’s just say that I’m planning another, much more profitable, run-in. Meet me at the usual place in two days. D.” 

“Looks like Desro hired those two in Sharn,” comments Gareth. “I wonder who they are.”

“That wizard was powerful,” adds Nameless. “Somebody or other in the underworld would know them. But we have other ways of locating them.” He holds up a vial filled with the blood that the fake Dala spilled during the fight.

“Where’s the real Dala, is the question,” says Korm.

The last room in the area answers it. This one is a torture chamber, its walls lined with objects and implements built specifically to cause pain, while keeping the unfortunate recipients alive. They are clearly quite old, but most are in good repair. 

What immediately catches the Angels’ attention is the form against the far wall. The naked figure of Dala hangs by her wrists from manacles dangling from long chains. For a moment, the watchers think that she is covered in blood, but then realize that they are seeing her muscles and organs laid bare.

“They skinned her!”

As they slowly move forward towards the gory mess that was recently a human being, Nameless asks, “She’s not alive, is she?”

Korm gently lifts Dala’s face, to reveal her throat and display a slash that almost decapitated her. He looks down at the volume of blood on the ground and the state of the flesh around the cut. “No, she’s not. But she was when they skinned her.”

* In seven years of gaming, I’m the only DM that I’ve seen using Decipher Script at all.
** Yes, I owe Varsuuvius for this one.
*** Crit on first attack. Gareth took 82 pts of damage in that round.
**** And a crit in return
***** Close-Quarters Fighting
****** Took 120 pts of damage in the fight


----------



## Sidekick

Wow Shilsen - you really are broken 

Excellent stuff.

Consider this a Bump FOR JUSTICE!!!


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Wow Shilsen - you really are broken




So people tell me regularly  I'm in an online game where I'd mentioned ENWorld and that my handle here is shilsen and another player popped up and said, "I'm Pinotage on ENWorld. And I know shilsen. He's broken!" Luckily, the DM didn't ask for an explanation.



> Excellent stuff.
> 
> Consider this a Bump FOR JUSTICE!!!




Thanks. I like to have a more complex treatment of alignment in my games, with evil NPCs who may also happen to be upstanding citizens, good parents, and fun people to hang out with. So I like to throw in a few evil enemies who're well into the "vile evil" category. Keeps some variation in there, and the players like to have enemies who they can just focus on beating the crap out of, without questions and moral dilemmas.

Just got back from a session yesterday, so there'll be an update in a couple of days. Let's just say that it involves beholders. Huge, advanced beholders.


----------



## Solarious

Always everyone's favorite way to start the day!


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Always everyone's favorite way to start the day!



 Ain't it now?

And speaking of starting the day badly, see what happened to a certain poor NPC, who gained a name and lost a few important things in the same day:

************************************************************

The Angels make their return to Trillia’s home, carrying a _bag of holding_ that contains Dala’s corpse and the chest, which now contains both halves of Desro. After some discussion, they decide to at least try bringing Dala back, with Luna being especially interested in trying to attempt a _reincarnate_ spell. 

Nameless and Trillia visit the Guild of Starlight and Shadows (where their new position as an incredible source of funds is now outshining their reputation as the two most skilled members) and pick up a number of ingredients for their attempt. 

While there, they also buy a couple of _identify_ scrolls to use on the magical items recovered from Desro. The one that most interests Nameless is a small dragonshard that they found attached to a heavy gold ring that Desro wore (which turns out to be a _Ring of Mind Shielding_). The dragonshard has been enchanted to work with a user who knows the _dimension door_ spell, allowing it to be used one extra time in the day, and simply needs to be attached to any ring (magical or otherwise) to work. Nameless pockets it and trades the _Ring of Mind Shielding_ for some of the many items they are purchasing.


After they return, Gareth uses a scroll they obtained to _speak with dead_. Dala’s fleshless body stirs, or rather her head does, craning awkwardly to face towards Gareth, though the eyes remain closed. Nameless asks the first question - “Would you like us to try to bring you back from the dead?”

The corpse’s jaw moves awkwardly and then it mumbles, “No.”

“Damn!” says Luna, disappointedly. “I want to _reincarnate_ someone!”

“We’ll find you somebody,” says Nameless. “Anyway, we have one question left.”

“Doesn’t really matter now, does it?” grunts Korm. He looks at the corpse and asks, “You sure?”

“Yes,” mumbles the corpse, before its head lolls back.

“Well, that wasn’t very satisfying,” says Gareth.

“So, what do we do with her?” asks Six.

After some discussion, the Angels decide that the corpse should be taken to Mazin Tana to be given a proper cremation. Dala’s body is replaced in the _bag_ and Gareth leaves. The others take the chest with Desro’s body and head to Karr’Aashta’s Investigations, Nameless having pointed out that since he put them on Desro’s trail in the first place, he’d probably be interested, not to mention have information about the bounty on Desro’s head. 

***
Karr’Aashta stands back up, closing the chest. Despite its gory contents, there is only delight on his face. “You guys are good! I didn’t even know he was back in town, though with his ability to disguise himself, you can understand why. How’d you meet him?”

The Tharashk inquisitive leans back in the comfortable chair as the others, sitting around him in the meeting room beside his office, explain the details of what happened. He asks a couple of questions here and there and makes a note or two, but for the most part simply listens.

Once they’re done, Six asks, “Did Desro have any known associates? We want to know who these two who escaped are.”

Karr’Aashta considers for a moment and then shakes his head. “He really preferred to work alone, without any regular set of allies, usually hiring a few people as needed for the job. Just like the two he had that first time Raog and you folks went after him.”

“Would anyone in the city have a chance of knowing something about who he hired this time around? Those people were powerful,” adds Nameless.

Six slides across the crumpled note that they’d found, from Desro inviting the two to join him on this job. Karr’Aashta reads it and then says, “You already know how easy it is to find information in this city if you search enough. I’ll do some checking. Let me hold onto this one.”

“When checking, try to find out if he hired any lycanthropes,” adds Nameless. 

“You think they were lycanthropes?”

“Don’t know, but whatever they were, they had a strong resistance to weapons. Even magical ones.”

“Hmm - that’s interesting. I’ll keep it in mind.”

The Angels ask a few more questions, with Six asking if Karr’Aashta could show them any files he has on Desro. Karr’Aashta demurs, saying that they contain information he can’t share with anyone, but at Six’s suggestion, says that he’ll provide them with details from it later.

“If I may ask,” says Karr'Aashta, “Did he have a heavy golden ring?”

The Angels exchnage slightly awkward glance and then Nameless says, “Um, yes. But it’s now at the Guild of Starlight and Shadows. We sold it only a couple of hours ago.”

“No harm done. It’s simply that Desro stole that from someone he killed. Someone I know. I’ll check on getting it back.”

Before they leave, Karr’Aashta asks if he can keep the body, so that he can collect the bounty he had been working on. The Angels agree, with Nameless adding the caveat that he just needs to make absolutely sure that the body is cremated. Karr’Aashta says he will do so and, in thanks, hands over a Kundarak banknote worth 2,000 galifars.

Shortly after the group returns to Trillia’s, Gareth rejoins them and says that Mazin Tana will take care of Dala’s corpse. After some discussion, they decide to let Balan Cord know about what happened, and to attempt to _scry_ the enemies who fled the next morning. 

There is also some discussion of finding a permanent place for the group to stay and give Trillia some relief from their presence. Trillia admits with a smile that she wouldn’t cry if they moved out, but also says that she thinks they should wait till their return from the Shadow Marches before actually buying a place.

***
The next morning, the group is gathered in Trillia’s spellcasting chamber, watching Nameless as he stares into an ornate mirror (with—naturally—stylized tentacles running up and down its sides) and completes his _scry_ spell. The vial full of now coagulated blood from the fake Dala is held in his hand.

The mirror goes blank and non-reflective to the others, but Nameless sees the outline of a humanoid figure from chest upwards. There are no features and all he can make out is the silhouette, as if he were looking at someone through a bed sheet. Though he doesn’t recognize it, the alienist knows immediately that there’s some significantly powerful protective magic at work. 

“They‘ve got some serious protections up,” says Nameless, and then explains what he sees.

“Try a _detect magic_,” suggests Trillia, and Nameless does so. As he concentrates, an amulet-like space around the silhouette’s neck begins to glow, revealing multiple auras. “Abjuration, transmutation and illusion,” he lists for the others.  

Ending the spell, Nameless says, “I’m quite sure that protection’s from an item, so it’s permanent. Further _scry_ attempts won’t help. Drat! I prepared a couple extra just in case I needed to try multiple times.”

“Still, you learned something,” points out Trillia.

Gareth says, “So you have some more? Then what about that mind flayer wizard? I know we said we’d focus on these ones first, but if we can’t get to them and you already have the spells prepared, we might as well take it out.”

“You sure?” asks Nameless a little uncertainly, looking around at the others. “I only have one _teleport_ ready, since I expected us to jump them inside Sharn.”

“I have two,” says Trillia a little reluctantly.

“Let’s do it,” says Luna, who’s already been looking bored. “We’ve already cast all these spells on us anyway, so we might as well get some use from them.”

“I agree,” says Korm. “We’re all ready to kick someone’s ass, so it might as well be the mind flayer.”

“Okay,” says Nameless, turning back to the mirror. “Let’s see what our friend is doing right now. Get comfortable. This’ll take another hour.”

“Oh man!” grouses Luna, only a second before Gareth says, “Fine - I’ll walk Luna and be back,” which draws a glare and a growled, “Bite me. Or even better, let me bite you.”

Nameless grins and continues with the spell.

***
Messal’rok, mind flayer arcanist, walks through the Chamber of Pillars, muttering to himself under his breath. It’s been a rough couple of days. Things started out well, with the capture of that human wizard, which had made Naxaliyen exceedingly happy. He’d said something about having a way to open the Seal, and even though Messal’rok thought his master was being a little too optimistic, he knew better than to voice the opinion.

And things went completely to Dolurrh and back during the planned opening. The wizard’s damn allies not only returned but managed to kill Naxaliyen, as well as a number of others. Messal’rok barely escaped. And what in Xoriat was that spectral hobgoblin? The beholders destroyed it, but just to be on the safe side they were re-sealing the chamber it came from. 

Anyway, he had bigger problems. Naxaliyen was dead. Dozens of his followers had been killed and others were on the verge of fleeing to the nearest faction. And that’s why Messal’rok was here. If Xaelij agreed to accept his allegiance, things might improve. In fact, considering that Xaelij didn’t have Naxaliyen’s mind-reading powers, there might be certain benefits…

Messal’rok’s thoughts are broken by a harsh call of “Halt!” Ahead, standing on the further side of a relatively open space, are the guards he expected. Each looks like a burly bugbear, but Messal’rok knows exactly how they were grown and that the appearance is quite deceptive. 

“I am Messal’rok,” he says aloud, walking forward. “Xaelij is expecting me.”

The guards exchange glances and one says gruffly, “We were not told to expect you.”

Messal’rok’s tentacles flex in irritation and he begins to explain that Xaelij must have forgotten and that he must be allowed to pass. It takes a few minutes of argument, but finally, a guard grudgingly steps back and knocks the butt of his polearm against the small gong hanging on a pillar. Messal’rok sighs inwardly in relief. Things are finally, or at least potentially, looking up again.

And then everything goes wrong. 

There’s a whiff of air behind him, and as he spins around, a group of figures appear ten feet away. Even though four of them are half their previous size, there’s no mistaking them. It’s those damn humanoids again!

“Kill them! Kill them now!” screams Messal’rok, backing away as fast as he can, hands blurring in the motions of a spell. This time he’ll show them!

As the female wizard in the rear speaks a set of words, causing the four shrunken enemies to spring back to normal size, and the two guards move to intercept them, Messal’rok completes his spell.

To his disappointment, only a single pseudonatural wolf appears, snapping at the human wizard. And then, to his shock, it actually misses, stumbling on the floor in its eagerness to seize the target*.

The wizard smirks and says, “No - this is how you do it,” and casts the very same spell, causing two such wolves to appear, flanking Messal’rok. He frantically twists away from one**, but the other bites deeply into his leg, pulling him off his feet.

As Messal’rok tumbles painfully to the ground, out of the corner of his one eye, he sees the warforged striking one of the guards in a blur of motion and moving away, while the human warrior with the flames covering his armor cuts into Messal’rok’s _summon_ed wolf.

But what he focuses on is the sight of the large orc rushing forward through the pillars at preternatural speed. He bellows an orcish war-cry as he comes, ignoring the slash that one of the guards inflicts as he passes by. Messal’rok’s hands rush desperately through the motions of a spell, but as he is about to complete it, the snapping jaws of a wolf make him pause for one vital second. 

The last thing the mind flayer sees is the gleam of the orc’s sword as it comes down.

***
Korm turns from the dead mind flayer to meet the attack of one of the guards, while Six engages the other. 

“Hurry up,” says Luna, “I heard something coming.” She casts a spell, causing a _fog cloud_ to appear and spread forty feet in width. 

“What she said. Move!” says Nameless. At his command, one of the wolves seizes the corpse and begins to drag it back through the pillars. 

With the aid of the other wolf, Six drops his enemy, and turns to help Korm. To his surprise, Korm is barely looking at his foe, staring past and above him, beyond Six. 

As the warforged spins around to see what is coming, two rays of bright light shoot past him at his allies, while a third strikes him square in the chest. And behind the beams comes the floating one-eyed, multi-stalked orb that fired them.

“I am Xaelij!” it snarls as it comes, “Surrender or die!”

* Natural 1 trumps a _true strike_-aided attack. Start of a trend for the day.
** And Nameless rolls a natural 1 for one of his wolves.


----------



## shilsen

Minor addition - I needed to add a little bit to the above regarding an interesting magic item and a slightly amusing interchange. When at the Guild of Starlight and Shadows to pick up the ingredients for the _reinccarnate_



> While there, they also buy a couple of _identify_ scrolls to use on the magical items recovered from Desro. The one that most interests Nameless is a small dragonshard that they found attached to a heavy gold ring that Desro wore (which turns out to be a _Ring of Mind Shielding_). The dragonshard has been enchanted to work with a user who knows the _dimension door_ spell, allowing it to be used one extra time in the day, and simply needs to be attached to any ring (magical or otherwise) to work. Nameless pockets it and trades the _Ring of Mind Shielding_ for some of the many items they are purchasing.




And barely two hours later in-game, at Karr'Aashta's:



> “If I may ask,” says Karr'Aashta, “Did he have a heavy golden ring?”
> 
> The Angels exchnage slightly awkward glance and then Nameless says, “Um, yes. But it’s now at the Guild of Starlight and Shadows. We sold it only a couple of hours ago.”
> 
> “No harm done. It’s simply that Desro stole that from someone he killed. Someone I know. I’ll check on getting it back.”




Minor moral of the story: Stuff found on bad guys isn't necessarily just loot that came from nowhere, but often belonged to someone and had a backstory, however minor.


----------



## shilsen

A beam slams into Nameless and he feels a coldness draining his vitality, but he fights it off, emerging with only a pained expression. Trillia, near him, barely dodges another beam, which burns a hole in her sleeve and neatly removes a thin slice of flesh from her right arm. “Son of a bitch!” she yells, “_Disintegrate_!”

The third beam hits Six in the side, with no obvious manifestation. Except for the fact that he looks up at the beholder, waves in a friendly manner and says, sounding slightly puzzled, “It’s okay, guys. He’s a friend.”

“What?!” chorus his allies, before Nameless says, “Damn - it _charm_ed him.”

“I can do something about that,” mutters Gareth, “But I’m not running towards a beholder. Six - get over here!”

The beholder growls a command - “Come here!” Luckily, it’s in daelkyr, and since Six has not sat in on the lessons Nameless and Trillia have given Luna and Korm in the language over the last two weeks, he has no idea what it says.

The beholder continues to advance, right into a _flame strike_ from Korm. It growls angrily and emerges somewhat charred, and then opens its central eye. Immediately, most of Nameless’s wolves disappear, and everyone feels the strange weakness that comes from having the magical items they wear constantly, as well as the current plethora of enhancements on them, disappear.

The Angels split up as best they can, seeking cover behind pillars and yelling panicky, and mostly contradictory, directions to each other. Six shakes his head as the effect of the ray disappears and goes, “Huh? What was I thinking?”

As the beholder moves closer, it calls a command to the remaining bugbear, who moves forward to engage Six and Korm, its ranseur biting painfully through their now significantly less armored defenses.

“Surrender!” calls the beholder again. “Quickly! This is your only chance!”

“Is it just me,” says Trillia, standing behind a pillar, “Or does it sound a little worried for some reason?”

“I know,” replies Gareth. “Not that I’m an expert on beholder psychology. But aren’t you two supposed t…”

“Speaking of worried,” breaks in Luna, “I hear something else coming from thataway.” She points in the opposite direction to the beholder. “Something big.”

“Maybe its Snookums?” says Six, as he and Korm flank the bugbear. 

“Too loud,” replies Korm, even as he slashes back at the bugbear and wounds it deeply. 

“Doesn’t matter,” says Trillia. “Everybody get back here. It’s got to drop the _antimagic_ to use the eyebeams, and as soon as it does, Nameless grab half of them and I’ll take the rest. Right back to Sharn.”

“Err,” reminds Nameless, “I’ve got no _teleport_s left, remember?”

“Crap!”

The sentiment is quickly underlined as the beholder flies closer, shutting its eye and firing more beams. Luna and Gareth ignore two, though each is wounded. Korm, however, is not as lucky. As he finally cuts down the bugbear, a beam strikes him in the back. As the others watch in horror, a gray pallor runs swiftly up his limbs and face, and seconds later a stone statue stands in his place.*

The beholder laughs triumphantly and then, switching to broken Common, orders Six to come join him. The warforged moves over to do so.

“That does it!” says Nameless, “We’re killing this thing!”

“Already on it,” says Luna, as she races through the motions of a spell. Seconds later, a pillar of fire engulfs the beholder, and Six, who is standing beneath and looking up at it. The warforged quickly dives aside, but the floating orb is caught right in the center of the blast.

Even as it screams in agony and rage, Trillia hurls an _orb of fire_ that strikes it cleanly, seconds before Nameless’s _fireball_ explodes around it. 

The beholder’s screams die out as it hits the ground in a charred heap. Six, still considering it a friend, reaches up to catch it, but the bulk knocks him off his feet and to the ground.  

“Wow - that was quick!” says Gareth**. 

“Not quick enough,” says Luna, a _produce flame_ already ready to hurl at the dark mass that emerges through the pillars on the other side.

This one is also a beholder, but at least twice as wide as the first one, over fifteen feet across. It seems extremely old, the flesh hanging off it in folds. A thick network of scar tissue covers its body and three of its eyestalks have been cut short. The large central eye looks around at the scene and it says in a tone which can be best described as crotchety, “What in the Great Eye is going on here, Xaelij?” 

Luna, already into the motion of hurling a bolt of magical flame, barely stops herself, unsure that offense is the best move.

“Well?” asks the huge beholder, its gaze moving to encompass all of the adventurers, and promptly removing their enchantments again. “What is going on here?” The eye focuses on the dead, still smoking figure of the other beholder. “Is that Xaelij? What did you do to him? Why is there a metal guy under him? Who are you people? Eh? Eh?”

There is silence for a moment, with only the sound of Six hurriedly rolling off Xaelij’s corpse and standing up, as a few glances are exchanged, and then Nameless finally tries a bluff. “Xaelij and Messal’rok,” he points at the mind flayer’s corpse, “Were fighting and we got involved. We were just leaving.” The last statement sounds more like a question.

The beholder grunts, sounding slightly less irritated, “Don’t tell me stories, human. What really happened?”

After another pause, Luna says, “We needed to get back some things the mind flayer had taken from us, and we got into a fight. This .. er, Xaelij attacked us afterwards and we had to kill him.”

Nameless rolls his eyes at the concluding comment, but the old beholder doesn’t seem upset. “Hmm,” it says meditatively, “That sounds more truthful. Xaelij was always impetuous, sticking his eyestalks where they did not need to be.”

He looks around the group, floating a little closer. “I am Ek’aankh. You could call me his father.” 

The name reminds Nameless of something, and then he remembers where he read it. Ek’aankh was a great beholder that plagued the Eldeen Reaches over two thousand years ago, before falling out of the pages of history.

Ek’aankh continues, “I was in the middle of a nap, when all this commotion woke me.” Its large eye droops slightly, as do the eyestalks, and then it continues, “I have not seen your kind for many years. You must be from behind the city. Where are you from?”

“From the Mournland,” says Nameless quickly. “Very far away.”

“Mournland? Yes, I have heard of it. Never been there. Haven’t been out in a long time.” The drooping eye focuses again, this time on Korm. “Was this statue here? I don’t recall it.”

“No,” says Luna worriedly, “He’s a friend. Xaelij did that.”

“Pity. Orc, right? Was he a Gatekeeper?”

“Gatekeeper?” says Luna, as innocently as she can, “What’s a Gatekeeper?”

“Aaah,” says the old beholder, in a tone of nostalgic pleasure, “I remember them. Gatekeepers were a group of druids who fought us, many years ago. I’d like to have met one again. Do you know Havarien Banehammer?”

“No,” says Luna. Nameless, recalling that it was the name of a Gatekeeper famous for having slain a lesser daelkyr single-handed in the time of Karrn the Conqueror, doesn’t vouchsafe the information. 

“He cut off two of these,” says Ek’aankh, still in a tone that better fits an old sportsman talking about his glory days than a giant beholder in the bowels of a city of aberrations. “Hmm - I wonder what happened to him?” Then it pauses and mutters something inaudible for a moment, before perking up. “Oh yes - I ate him. But he gave me a glorious battle before it. Almost killed me. Ah yes, those were the days. Good times, good times. Not that I’d do that nowadays. I haven’t killed anyone in a while. I’m … well, you can call me a philosopher now. The meaning of existence, now that is something to…”

As the old beholder continues to speak, its large eye gradually closes and its eyestalks begin to go limp. Eventually, its voice is down to soft muttering and it has leaned forward in mid-air until its large eye faces the ground.

“I think its aslee..,” begins Luna.

“Huh?! Wha-?!” grunts Ek’aankh, as his eye pops open and the eyestalks jerk up, sending beams shooting in various directions. One strikes Nameless in the leg, but luckily the only effect is to lift him a few feet off the ground, before he drops back.

“Oh! Yes, I was talking to you” says Ek’aankh as he rights himself. “Anyway, I need to get back to my nap. It was interesting seeing you. Are you leaving now?”

“Yes,” says Nameless emphatically. Near him, Gareth quietly whisper, “Interesting. He’s not actually evil.”

Nameless turns to fix the paladin with a baleful glare. “If you even _try_ to _detect thoughts_ on him, you’re staying here.” Behind him, Trillia adds emphatically, “What he said.”

Near them, Luna begins, “So are you actually working for these dael-,” but is interrupted by Nameless slapping a hand over her mouth.

“What’s wrong?” asks Ek’aankh curiously. 

“Nothing,” says Nameless, “She sometimes gets her tongue stuck in her mouth and needs help. Now, as you said, we’ll be leaving.”

Six points to the mind flayer and adds, “Would you mind if we took some of our things off him?”

“Not at all. I don’t care what happens with him. Xaelij, on the other tentacle…”

A beam from one of Ek’aankh’s eyestalks hits the dead beholder and it promptly turns to stone, just as Korm has. Another beam follows and then it rises slowly off the ground. “Where to put it? Where to put it?” mutters Ek’aankh to himself, before adding, “Do you need the stone orc too?”

“Umm, yes.”

Sotto voce, Gareth adds, “Mainly because he has a Shard stuck somewhere inside him,” reminding the others that Korm was now the one carrying it.

“Want me to break him down into smaller pieces so he’s easier to carry?” asks Ek’aankh.

“No, no - we’re fine!”

“All right then,” nods the old beholder. “It was interesting meeting you. But try not to disturb me again.”

“I think we can safely say,” replies Six, “That it will _never_ happen again.”

The old beholder bobs and nods and then turns away. The last the Angels see of him is his bulk fading into the darkness, Xaelij’s corpse floating beside him like a strange stone satellite. 

Seconds later, the group reappears in Trillia’s home. “Okay,” she says, “That’s official - I’m never going back there again!”

* I asked Korm’s player to roll a 2 on the save and he did. Ultimate DM Power, baby!
** It got hit by four spells, each doing 9d6 dmg, one with no save, and blew two of the others. C’est la vie!


----------



## Gold Roger

That old Beholder officially rules. He could join a club with the spectator from baldurs gate 2.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> A beam from one of Ek’aankh’s eyestalks hits the dead beholder and it promptly turns to stone, just as Korm has. Another beam follows and then it rises slowly off the ground. “Where to put it? Where to put it?” mutters Ek’aankh to himself, before adding, “Do you need the stone orc too?”
> 
> “Umm, yes.”




I think the actual reply was "Yes, he's got sentimental value to us."

Korm getting stoned also convinced us that the Shard is cursed. Given all the things that happened to Nameless while he was carrying it and the Korm getting stoned right after we'd given it to him to carry.


----------



## shilsen

Gold Roger said:
			
		

> That old Beholder officially rules.




Thanks. I imagined him like a friendly, absent-minded and slightly irascible old British gentleman.



> He could join a club with the spectator from baldurs gate 2.




I played BG2 a looooong time ago and don't recall it. Care to jog my memory?


----------



## Solarious

Spectator beholders are a subrace of beholders with only 4 stalks and originate from a plane of law. Rational and clam, they don't have a great deal to do with the average hyperxenophobic mainstream beholder mindset. They are typically tasked to guard something when conjured.

The spectator in question was first encountered in the Sahuagin city after the escape from Spellhold, the encounter with Irenicus, and subsequently going with Saemon to persue everyone's favorite not-elf... and runs off on you when the ship was attacked by the aforementioned Sahuagins.  Anyways, he's guarding a chest with a few things you're going to need... and he's bored out of his mind. If you have enough Wisdom, you can suggest that he only has to guard the chest itself, and not the contents. This is entirely possible as the summoner was dying in a horrible fashion as the instructions were being screamed out, and was directed only to protect the chest.

You meet up again in Sendai's enclave, where he has again been contracted to help Captain Egeissag and such. Instead of letting the situation devolve into senseless violence (as much fun as it sounds) the spectator suggests that the protaganist and Egeissag duel it out to the death, with magic ensuring that when one dies, their party died with them. After the egotistical drow is reduced to a very small smear on the ground, or a very large one, depending on your tastes, you chew fat with the spectator like an old friend, tossing out terms like godslaying, saving the world, and something about Hive Mothers (can't remember clearly.... damnit, I want to play BG2 again! >_<).

Loved him.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Spectator beholders are a subrace of beholders with only 4 stalks and originate from a plane of law. Rational and clam, they don't have a great deal to do with the average hyperxenophobic mainstream beholder mindset. They are typically tasked to guard something when conjured.
> 
> The spectator in question...
> 
> Loved him.




That rings a few faint bells. Man, it's been a long time since I played BG2.

Thanks.


----------



## shilsen

The first order of business is to ‘de-stone’ Korm, which is eventually achieved via the only stone to flesh scroll available at the Guild. Once that is done, the Angels settle down to a little rest, while they discuss their plans for the day and the two alienists go about _identify_ing the few items they took off Messal’rok’s corpse.

Midway through the discussion, Bodo returns with the information Six asked for, all neatly written up in report form.

According to him, Thurik Davandi is a Sharn native, born and bred. The current councilor from Upper Menthis, he is the owner of Davandi’s Fine Tailoring, a very successful clothing store in the Den'iyas district of Upper Menthis. He lives there with his family, consisting of his wife, son and daughter. Thurik is believed to have gained his council seat through flattery and blackmail, and to have a hold over many of the more powerful Menthis merchants, who backed his candidature. He is also known to have connections with the Boromar clan and the Zilargo Embassy, usually voting in the Council as part of what’s called the Boromar bloc. 

Bodo also mentions that the Sharn city elections are occurring within a few days, from the 6th to the 8th, and the actual appointments will occur on 9th Rhaan, the Feast of Boldrei, which is the day many political appointments occur across Khorvaire. Thurik is expected to win easily and to retain his seat for another 3 years. 

“So that’s about it,” says Bodo. “How was it?”

“Very good, Bodo,” says Six honestly, only to be interrupted by a frowning Gareth. 

“You sent Bodo to find information about the guy we think might be Killian, or at least connected to him? Are you crazy?”

“There was no danger,” argues Six.

“No, really, it’s just fine. And I was happy to…” says Bodo, before being cut off.

“What he’s happy to do doesn’t matter, Six. He’s just a child.”

“Hey!”

Gareth ignores Bodo and continues, “I really don’t appreciate you doing this without telling us…”

“Actually,” says Nameless with a grin, “I knew.”

“Yeah. Me too.” “Same here.”

Gareth’s expression gets even darker. “In that case, without telling me. You have no right to risk Bodo’s safety this way!”

Not bothering to argue, Six says, “He was just getting some freely available information for me. Anyway, it’s not worth arguing about.”

Turning to Bodo, he asks, “Did you find out about the City Council meeting?”

“Yes. They have a weekly meeting where petitioners speak to them, which you can watch from a gallery, if you want. The next one’s tomorrow.”

“I want to go to that one,” says Six. “Anyone else?”

Both of the druids say that they’d like to see the Council Hall. Six asks Bodo a couple more questions, which the boy either answers or says he’ll find out about. Gareth doesn’t interject any more, but as soon as Six is done, he marches Bodo out of the room to talk to him about responsibility. 

Once he returns, this time without Bodo, Korm asks, “So - are we going anywhere else today?”

“We need to speak to Balan Cord,” says Nameless. “I want to tell him about Desro and Dala.”

***
Later that evening, the Angels sit across a table from Warden Balan Cord, in the headquarters of the Blackened Book in the Warden Towers district.

Once Nameless is done, Balan says, “Thank you for all the information. Hopefully that should help us with the case of Arrok’s murder, which, as I said, was at a dead end.” His face gets a little grimmer. “And it’s always good to know when someone is moving around town impersonating me.”

Nameless pushes half a vial of coagulated blood across the table. “This is from one of the two. It might come in handy for a divination, though they’re evidently quite well-protected against it.”

“Nevertheless, every little bit helps,” says the Warden, pocketing the vial. “Is there anything else you can think of?”

“It would be a good idea to get your men to search the location where we fought them,” adds Six. “We checked it quite thoroughly, but one can always miss something. And maybe check around the area for where they fled to. Nameless, how far can a _dimension door_ take you?”

“Nearly seven hundred feet as a minimum, and definitely more for that wizard.”

“I’ll make sure to have that looked into,” confirms Balan, making a note. “Anything else?”

“Well, that’s about it,” says Nameless, when Six adds, “I had a favor to ask.”

“Yes?”

Six produces a small package of iridescent green powder. “_Powder of silent passage_, which we found on Desro. Gareth said it’s illegal to possess in Sharn, but can come in very handy for our kind of work, so if you could let us keep it…?”

Balan smiles. “Yes -I’m sure you could find a way to use it. Not to worry. I’ll give you a permit before you leave.” He looks at the pad he was writing on. “Now, let me make sure I’ve got this all correct…”

***
A permit from the primary countermage of the Blackened Book has unforeseen advantages. The next day, when Six and Korm (with Luna, now in the form of a small dog) are having their equipment searched before being allowed into the Council Hall in the Highest Towers area, one of the guard’s searching them opens and reads the permit. He hands it to his captain, who quickly peruses it and says, “Permission from Warden Cord, eh? That’s good enough for me.”

A few minutes later, the trio are standing on the large circular viewing gallery that is situated high up on the public Council chamber and allows tourists and curious locals to look in through large windows at the goings-on of the City Council.

The section of the chamber they look into is a large round section, with individual seats spaced around the circumference (symbols above each seat indicating which area of Sharn they represent), and a space in the middle for speakers to use. The last is currently occupied by a pair of people who evidently represent some of the entertainment in the Menthis ward, since they are protesting new taxes in the area.

Six, Korm and Luna quickly catch sight of the councilor they came to see. Thurik Davandi is the only gnome on the council, and, to the considerable interest of the watchers, very distinctly resembles Killian. If Killian were slightly stouter and older, that is.

“I wonder if he’s a relative. Maybe his father?” mutters Korm to Six.

As they watch, the adventurers note that Thurik also uses his hands a great deal, just as Killian does, though he never uses a characteristic gesture of Killian’s, where he places a hand to his chest, usually when being particularly facetious. The facetiousness and sarcasm are definitely present in Thurik too, though delivered in a voice slightly deeper than Killian’s.

The watchers also note the other councilors, how they express themselves and what positions they take. It is quickly clear who the members of the Boromar bloc that Bodo mentioned are. Its obvious head is Ilyra Boromar, the representative from Lower Dura, who is almost as good a speaker as Thurik. Beside him, the two members who clearly support her are the other halflings on the Council, Bestan ir’Tonn of Upper Tavick’s, who speaks like a lawyer, and Caskar Havalik of Middle Menthis, who barely speaks at all.

The one person who seems most clearly opposed to Ilyra and the Boromar bloc in general is Sava Kharisa, the middle-aged woman from Lower Central. “We heard about her being the most honest of the councilors,” reminds Six. “I think I’m going to try and speak to her later.”

A couple of the other councilors especially draw the trio’s attention. One is Hruit, a simply dressed man from Middle Dura who is known to be one of the most powerful druids in Sharn, and the other is Kilk, an elderly changeling who wears his form openly, the representative from Lower Tavick’s.

After watching the proceedings for the better part of an hour, the three Angels leave, but not before Six sets up an appointment with Sava Kharisa for the next day. Having heard that she owns an art gallery in Lower Central, he uses the excuse that he wishes to talk to her about his work. 

Gareth, meanwhile, visits the Deneith enclave as he does every couple of days, and finds that the twin Sentinel Marshals have finally returned to Sharn. He spends a pleasant couple of hours over lunch with Lalia, during which she tells him some more about the assassination attempt on Boranel and Aurala.

Lalia also confirms that the information about the attempt was extracted from Raskalorn, who - as the Angels had surmised - was a traitor after all, even though the official report claimed otherwise. She mentions that she heard about the Angels being involved in Raskalorn’s capture, and adds that such exploits will stand Gareth in good stead when it comes to joining House Deneith and finding the kind of position he desires.

After Gareth returns to relate what Lalia told him, and the other three mention what they saw of Thurik Davandi, the subject turns to something the group has discussed in passing earlier - finding a permanent base of operations in Sharn.

Trillia, laughingly admitting that she’s just trying to get them out of her hair, says that she has found a somewhat unusual situation that the Angels might be able to take advantage of, and explains the details. Ocean View, in Upper Tavick's Landing (directly above and west of Deathsgate, where Trillia lives), is a wealthy residential district which is extremely exclusive, at least 30 current residents needing to sign a petition allowing newcomers to purchase property there. In short, as Trillia puts it, “people like you wouldn’t have a hope in hell.” 

But a manor there is soon to be on sale under quite unusual circumstances. Called the Gray House, it had passed through the hands of Karrnathi nobles for 3 centuries. Just over two months ago, the Blades of Arakhain (the only adventuring group in Sharn better known than the Angels) broke in there and unveiled the fact that it was the primary Sharn safe house for the Order of the Emerald Claw (which had attacked them shortly earlier in Sharn), with the current owner, Lady Jesel Tarra’az, being a vampire.

There was a pitched battle, during which the Blades killed dozens of Emerald Claw agents, including Karrnathi undead, human soldiers, and a vampire. Lady Jesel escaped, only to encounter the Blades some days later and be killed. The Blackened Book, which had been investigating Emerald Claw presence in the city and apparently sent the Blades there, took custody of the place while they searched it thoroughly. Rumor says that the Blades tried to obtain the place as part of their reward, but current residents of Ocean View made it clear that there’d be a very strong appeal to the Council and beyond if that happened.

Trillia says that the manor will be going on the market very soon, but the situation that it became available in, combined with the Blackened Book’s concerns about its next users (since it is reputedly full of hidden passages, has no windows and only a single entrance, and has a couple of other little surprises), means that it’s not likely to get many prospective buyers soon.

According to her, where this becomes relevant for the Angels is the fact that while they wouldn’t normally have any hope of getting a crack at this place, the fact that the Blackened Book is now the nominal owner (and Warden Balan Cord is the one in charge of the investigation that took place there) significantly raises their chances of getting their hands on it. Plus, it sounds like a place that would be easy to fortify and maintain. Trillia adds that it’s a tower building with three floors, so it’s quite big, and especially with the location, very costly. She estimates that it would normally go for something like 20,000 galifars, but with the circumstances, it’s difficult to say.

By the time the story* is told, Luna’s extremely excited by the prospect, and the others are also interested. Much of the remainder of the evening is taken up with discussion of how to obtain the place and what can be done with it if they do, with ideas ranging from Luna and Korm planning to _stone shape_ the building to their desire to Six (presumably) joking that animating the stuffed figure of Naxaliyen to work as a doorkeeper will be the perfect way to dissuade unwelcome guests.

***
The next morning, the group is joined at breakfast by Surr’kal, who arrives with Gurr’khan in tow. 

The elderly druid, looking a little tired and significantly out of place in Trillia’s living room, explains that he did meet with Saala Torrn, the nominal leader of the Gatekeepers, in the Shadow Marches as planned. While she personally knows little about the Key, Saala thinks she remembers hearing of such items in the past. She has a couple of possible sources that she will be talking to, and is fairly confident that she will have relevant information about it.

Gurr’khan tells the group to be ready to leave with him next morning. He also warns that it will probably take some traveling even after he transports them to the Marches, and that they should pick up appropriate apparel and traveling gear for swampy terrain.

After he explains this, Nameless asks, “You can speak with stones, correct?”  

“Yes, though I do not have the relevant spell ready now. Why?”

“Because we need some information about a couple of people who may be after the Shard. We fought them near their lair and they fled, but maybe you can find out more by speaking to the stones there.”

Gurr’khan shrugs and says, “If it is related to the Shard, I will try. Tomorrow, before we leave.” Then he looks around the group, his expression resembling that of a disappointed teacher speaking to errant schoolchildren. “Surr’kal tells me that you almost lost the Shard in Yarkuun Draal.” Behind him, Surr’kal shrugs and gives a weak grin.

“The important thing is that it is safe now,” defends Korm, tapping the bag on his back. 

“The important thing,” grunts Gurr’khan, “Is that you not risk it anywhere.” His expression becomes slightly less critical as he adds, “Still, Surr’kal also says that you have worked hard to protect it through many dangers, so that is something.” With that, he takes his leave and departs with Surr’kal.

Once they’re gone, Trillia looks at the Angels. “So - what is your plan until you leave?”

Nameless considers for a moment and replies, “Considering everything that’s happened to us, I suggest we sit in a locked room. And _fireball_ anyone who knocks.”

* Which is, incidentally, among the exploits of my other Eberron group, whose campaign is now on indefinite hiatus.


----------



## Sidekick

Cool - the Angels are getting a tower and they're off to The Marches.

I'm very interested to see what you're take on the Shadow Marches is Shil.

Also as an aside - what level are the Angels now? They're throwing around some fairly heavy duty e so I'm assuming that they're somwhere in the mid-levels.


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Cool - the Angels are getting a tower and they're off to The Marches.




The Marches was always on the calendar since the Gatekeepers got involved, but the tower thing came up up pretty recently. The players had been talking about it and I suddenly remembered my other group having taken out the Emerald Claw at the Gray House. The fact that Balan Cord was the one who'd sent the Blades there was really serendipitious, since it happened 2.5 months ago in-game and nearly a year in real time, and considering that the Angels gave him some valuable info very recently. I'm curious to see what the PCs do with the place once they get their hands on it.



> I'm very interested to see what you're take on the Shadow Marches is Shil.




Hot, sweaty, and very dangerous? We had the first session in the Shadow Marches on Saturday and ... well, let's just say that the group had their toughest fight since getting taken down by the goblinoid strike team while tailing Raskalorn. We're not playing again till the 16th, plus I'm in the process of shifting apartments and started teaching my two classes for the semester yesterday, so I'll be spacing the updates out a bit. 



> Also as an aside - what level are the Angels now? They're throwing around some fairly heavy duty e so I'm assuming that they're somwhere in the mid-levels.




They're 9th lvl at the point you're reading, but hit 10th after our last session. 

They're also significantly ahead of the core power curve for their level, due to starting with high stats (80 pts distributed among their stats, which worked out to anywhere from 36 and 42 pts of point buy), higher than usual equipment, using a fair bit of non-core material and me tweaking existing mechanics to work with character concepts. And with two druids, a wizard and a multiclassed cleric in the group, they are truly heinous when they get a chance to buff up, which they've had a lot of recently.

But so far I haven't had any trouble challenging them, even when I use lower CR creatures and mostly core material (both of which I prefer to do most of the time), so I have no problem with it. And the players get to play powerful PCs, which they like, while getting the flavor they want, so they're happy too. It's worked out pretty well.


----------



## shilsen

Despite Nameless’s suggestion, the Angels spend some time making preparations for their departure. Not finding Balan at the Blackened Book headquarters, they leave a note expressing interest in the Gray House. Gareth stops by and lets Lalia know that he will be leaving town again.

Six, as per his appointment, visits Sava’s Gallery in Lower Central. Luna, curious about the meeting, goes along in the form of a large exotic bird that perches on Six’s metallic shoulder.

The receptionist on duty doesn’t seem at all surprised that a warforged has come to visit, and simply tells Six that he is expected, before leading him through to Sava’s office. Though he doesn’t walk through the gallery proper, Six does see it in passing, and notes that it boasts a very eclectic collection, leaning more towards innovative new paintings, sculptures and other art forms, though still boasting a number of very traditional pieces.

He finds Sava at a desk piled high with all manner of papers and correspondence, working on a letter. The middle-aged woman greets and asks him to take a seat. “I do not believe we’ve met before,” she says. “How can I help you?”

Six produces a couple of his best sculptures and says, “This is some of the work I do.”

Sava studies the pieces and then says, “You’re quite good. Were you hoping to have them displayed here and hopefully find buyers? Or did you wish to directly find buyers? There is a fair-sized market in Sharn for art specifically made by warforged. As you already know, many warforged pick up creative pursuits as a way of keeping occupied.”

“Yes,” says Six. “Any information about buyers would be helpful, but I would like to have my pieces displayed too, if possible. You have a very fine gallery.”

“Thank you. Was that primarily why you set up an appointment? I’m asking because you did so at the Council Hall, and that’s not usually the case with people trying to meet me regarding gallery matters.”

“Actually, there is something else,” says Six. He goes on to explain that he is looking for information on an information broker named Killian, who bears a remarkable similarity to Sava’s fellow-councilor Thurik Davandi. He adds that he had been to the Council Hall the previous day and noted some acrimony between Sava and him.

Sava says that there’s no secret that Thurik and she do not get along at all, and while she doesn’t know of Killian, she does know that Thurik wouldn’t be above disguising himself for personal benefit. When Six describes the difference between Thurik and Killian, she thinks for a moment and then asks, “Have you met Thurian Davandi?”

“No. Is he a family-member?”

“Yes. Thurik’s son. He’s generally regarded as a layabout and supposedly helps his father at his shop, though nobody ever sees him do much work there. Around Thurik, appearances are always worth being careful about, so you might want to check on him. And I would be interested to know what you discover. Anything I can find out about Thurik, especially things he might not want others to know, can be valuable.”

Six thanks Sava and says he’ll let her know what he discovers. When he is about to leave, Sava asks, “Aren’t you one of the members of the group know as the Guardian Angels?”

“Yes.”

“I have heard of your exploits. I seem to remember a member of your group telling the Chronicle that you were interested in cleaning up Sharn. Is that true?”

Six avoids turning to give the bird on his shoulder a dirty look and simply settles for a “Well, in a manner of...,” but is interrupted by Sava.

“People of your talents could be very beneficial to this city. If I can give you a particular assignment which would benefit you financially as well as helping the city, do you think you might be interested?” After a second, she adds, “Your bird seems to be a little agitated.”

Six shushes Luna, who was trying to express the sentiment of “Why the hell does everyone keep giving us jobs?” in avian terms, and replies, “We would certainly consider it, assuming we were free.” After being hit by a wing, he adds, “We are currently leaving town but should be back some time soon.”

“Oh. Well then, I hope to speak to you soon after you return. Please let me know when you do.”

Six promises to do so and makes his departure, muttering to Luna as he goes that he wasn’t about to accept any jobs without talking to everyone, and muttering that for someone who likes to buy a lot of magical items, she’s remarkably averse to working for pay.

***
Early the next morning, the entire group meets up with Gurr’khan and heads down to the Cogs. Near the area where they fought Desro and his accomplices, they are stopped by a portable barrier and a pair of officers in Watch uniform. 

“Halt and identify yourselves!” orders the older of the two. “What are you doing here?” 

“We are here to help regarding the investigation,” replies Nameless. “We’re helping Warden Balan Cord with it.” 

“Warden Cord? Please wait here.” The older officer turns and walks around the corner, leaving a slightly worried looking man facing six heavily armed and armored people with a single crossbow.

His expression says that he doesn’t feel any better when Gurr’khan says audibly to Korm, “Wouldn’t it be quicker to _flame strike_ him?” followed immediately by Luna’s pleased, “I like you better already.”

“No,” Nameless explains. “These are the law enforcement here,” which only draws a grunt from Gurr’khan.

A few moments later, the other guard returns, followed by Balan himself, and another man in the uniform of the Blackened Book.

“Ah!” says Balan, “I didn’t expect to see you here. Remember anything important?”

“No. But Gurr’khan here has offered to do a druidic divination to help. He’s a Gatekeeper.”

Balan nods. “Certainly. Every little bit helps. Come along.” 

Balan shows Gurr’khan the area, while his colleague joins a third member of the Blackened Book in various detective activities. After walking around the area, Gurr’khan returns to the torture chamber where Dala was found. “I will begin here.”

As he speaks the words of a spell*, Gurrkhan’s lips and a couple of inches of skin around them take on the color of granite, and apparently some of the consistency, since they move slowly and small cracks appear as he speaks. “Ouch!” he says, in a now rumbling voice, “This always stings a bit.”

Then looking at the wall near him, he begins to speak in a language that resembles the sound of boulders grinding against each other. After a few seconds, a similar sound emanates from the wall. Gurr’khan listens carefully and translates, “I asked about the people who were here earlier, before those that came today. The stones say that for three of our days there were three here, and then for two of our days there were four. And then one of the four ‘stopped.’ Then some more came for a short time and left. And yesterday there were two here.”

Nameless says, “I think that means Desro and the other two were here for three days before they kidnapped Dala – who was the fourth. And then she was killed and ‘stopped.’ The ones who came and left would have been us. The two more yesterday is what I’m interested in. Ask for descriptions or names.”

“I will,” rumbles Gurr’khan, “But remember, I’m dealing with stones here. They’re not really sentient, but the spell lets me extract information magically, using them as a contact point.”

He goes through some more questions and, after some response from the wall, says, “The description seems to indicate human males, but the interesting thing is that the two people looked exactly the same. Exactly.”

“We do know that those two were very good with disguises,” says Six.

“As for names,” continues Gurr’khan, “It’s hard to get that precise information, but I did get one. Andon.”

“Andon?” says Luna. “Where have I heard that before?”

After a moment’s though, Gareth says, “Wasn’t Andon the name of the guy we met in the Cogs when we first visited Khyber’s Gate? The one who led us to that Shamukaar place.”

“Oh yes,” grimaces Luna. “Where we got beat on by monkeys.”

“What?” asks Korm.

“Long before we met you,” clarifies Nameless. “And they were really big monkeys. But Gareth’s right. That guy was called Andon. It’s not that common a name, so maybe he’s the one.”

“What’s he doing mixed up with this? We haven’t seen him in months.”

“Anyway,” says Gurr’khan, “We need to get on with this. My spell runs out soon.”

The Angels run through some more questions that they want him to ask, and Gurr’khan does so, also visiting other rooms to do so. The stones can reveal little else that is useful. They add that the two identical people who arrived together did so by simply arriving, and not actually walking into the area. They also provide the information that nothing is hidden behind them in the immediate area. There is one other thing that Gurr’khan learns just before the spell ends. 

“They say ‘claws on the stone’,” he says. “As in, claws walking on them.”

“Hmm – maybe they were lycanthropes, like you wondered, Six,” says Nameless. “Maybe.”

Balan, who has been silently listening and making notes through the process, asks if there is anything else they would like to do here. When the Angels say that was it, he thanks them for the added information and says he’ll see what he can do with it.

He then mentions that he got their note about the Gray House. The Angels explain their interest and ask if there’s any way that he can hold onto it for them, maybe after accepting a substantial deposit.

Balan laughs and says that’s not necessary, though it’ll take more than money to persuade the people in the area that they should let the Angels move in. 

“What the hell’s wrong with us?” says Luna indignantly. “I should _flame strike_ a couple of those snobs’ houses.”

“Precisely their concern,” grins Balan. “But the fact that you won’t be here for a while gives me more time to make arrangements, and the Blackened Book does in some sense own the place now. In view of all your help, I’ll take care of it. It’s still going to cost you a lot.”

The Angels agree that cost isn’t too big a concern and thank Balan for the help, before leaving.

As they are heading back through the tunnels, Gurr’khan turns to Luna. “I should have noticed and asked this earlier, but what’s that on your arm? And tongue?”

“Ummm – symbionts.”

“Daelkyr symbionts?” Gurr’khan turns to Korm with his tone changing to a mixture of surprise and disgust. “She’s using daelkyr symbionts?”

“Don’t look at me,” grunts Korm. “I already tried explaining. It’s like talking to a wall.”

“But there’s nothing wrong with them,” argues Luna. “They help me and they’re not evil and if I’m using them against the daelkyr and their aberrations, what’s wrong?”

“See what I mean?” says Korm.

“They’re symbionts,” says Gurr’khan, pronouncing the word like it’s a particularly foul expletive. “Do you know what they can do to you?”

“What?”

“Anything touched by the daelkyr and their form of magic – though it’s not really magic – corrupts and warps life in our world.” Gurr’khan hesitates for a moment and then reaches for his vest. As he is doing so, the Angels see undulations beneath. 

Gurr’khan undoes the laces and opens the vest. And his torso then waves gently at the watchers. A long oval ring of tentacles stretches from the middle of his chest to just above his navel. The tentacles, ranging from one to three inches in length and each of a grayish-pink color, flex and move gently. 

“What happened to you?”

“Seepage from the Seal that I guard. And that’s not something I spend time with every day. You’re actually wearing a couple of symbionts. For you it’ll be a lot worse.”

“Are you sure? I haven’t noticed anything. Six has that eye too and it doesn’t bother him.”

Gurr’khan stops in the middle of doing up his vest. “What eye?”

“Oh, he has a floating eye in his bag. Lets him see better and in the dark. Drains his brains a bit when he uses it, but we cure him.”

“A floating eye that drains his brains? And you people are all okay with that?”

Before anyone can answer, Luna temporarily derails the discussion with a brilliant question. “Can they do tricks?”

“Huh?”

“Your tentacles. Can they do tricks?”

There is a long silence while Gurr’khan tries to first comprehend the question and then think of an answer, and the others watch the expressions that cross his face. Finally, he says, “No, they do not do tricks!”

“I was just wondering,” continues Luna. “If you could make them wear magical rings, or pick up things, that would be quite helpful.”

“They ... do ... not ... do ... tricks.”

“Just wondering. Anyway, I haven’t noticed any such changes.”

“Well,” says Gareth, with a grin, “You have put on a little weight, Luna.”

“What?!”

The expression on the druidess’ face makes Gareth hurry through the explanation. “You’ve been eating thrice as much since you put that band on. You’ve put on a little weight.”

With a furious expression, Luna turns, stabs a finger at Korm and says, “This is all your fault!”

“Who? Me? Why?”

“You’re the idiot who said it would make me fat. I can’t be getting fat.” Luna spins in place as she tries to look at her rear, looking more panicky than any of the others have ever seen, even when she was facing a dragon or a daelkyr or a mind flayer. “I’m an adventurer! I can’t be fat! Why does it make me fat?” 

“Do you remember what we found the band attached to? A giant hobgoblin that was so fat it couldn’t walk?”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Luna, now more concerned about prodding herself and checking for extra poundage. “But I thought that damn band would absorb it. And I’ve always been a healthy eater.”

“Maybe you’ll adapt to it,” says Six helpfully.

“Easy for you to say,” snarls Luna. “Your damn eye isn’t making you fat. Damn! I can’t be a fat adventurer!”

“Maybe you could give the band to Six,” suggests Gareth. “As a warforged he doesn’t eat and can’t get fat. And if he does get fat, we could make a lot of money exhibiting the first fat warforged.”

Gurr’khan, with a slightly glazed look in his eyes, looks at Korm. “Are they always like this?”

“More or less.”

“And you bunch are guarding an ancient artifact that possibly has the power to destroy this entire city? I’m surprised that you haven’t blown it up yet.”

“I have to admit, so am I.”

* Stone Tell


----------



## Furby076

Yea yea yea...get to the fight. Everyone wants to read about the fight and what happend.  They want to hear about the true hero of the group.


----------



## Gold Roger

A yes, the exploits of adventuring randomness. Strangely, my players have actually become a bit conscious of what they do.

They didn't even take up the offer of a celestial in a cage that quite obviously isn't really a celestial to show them to a legendary cache of riches in exchange of its freedom, wonder where that came from (maybe because the last one mingling with an evil altar had to be killed before he could turn into a terrible abomination)


----------



## shilsen

Gold Roger said:
			
		

> A yes, the exploits of adventuring randomness. Strangely, my players have actually become a bit conscious of what they do.
> 
> They didn't even take up the offer of a celestial in a cage that quite obviously isn't really a celestial to show them to a legendary cache of riches in exchange of its freedom, wonder where that came from (maybe because the last one mingling with an evil altar had to be killed before he could turn into a terrible abomination)



 Paranoia is a healthy thing for my PCs. It doesn't stop them from getting screwed, but at least they can say, "Aha - I expected to get screwed!"


----------



## shilsen

*Traveling in the Shadow Marches*

A couple of hours later, on a small hill in the Shadow Marches, one of the three watchers sees the bark of a large tree bulge outwards in a vaguely humanoid shape. Then the shape detaches itself from the tree and resolves itself into the shape of a middle-aged orc with gray hair. His right arm is outstretched, extending back into the tree, and as he steps forward, it emerges, a burly war forged at the end, behind whom appear more individuals, these ones half the previous pair’s height.

The Angels look around the area, instantly aware of the shift in temperature and climate around them. While Sharn, with its omnipresent drizzles, was moist and warm, this place is much more humid and stickily hot. The sun, which is lower in the sky and further to the east than when they saw it moments earlier, seems closer somehow. The tree they emerged from, of the same species to the one Gurr’khan led them into in Carosten Park, stands near the top of a small hill. Around the hill stretches what seems to be an endless swamp, multiple streams of water running through it. The monotonous scenery is broken up by undulating hills and clumps of vegetation, ranging from rushes and tall grasses to small collections of trees. A good-sized river flows in the distance, and there is what looks like a small town some 4-5 miles away.

“Welcome to the Shadow Marches,” says Gurr’khan, before heading towards the three orcs sitting a couple hundred feet away, cooking something over a small fire. One has risen at the group’s arrival and moves to meet Gurr’khan.

“This is where you come from?” asks Gareth, already feeling himself sweating inside his heavy armor.

Korm, who is looking around with a pleased smile and breathing in the thick air, says, “Yes. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Gareth looks around, seeing mainly various shades of green and not much else. “Really? I was just about to say I can see why you left!”

Korm gives him a disappointed look and walks after Gurr’khan. Nameless, having ended the spell he had used to _reduce_ most of the group, follows him.

Gurr’khan is already involved in a discussion with the orc who met him, and as the others reach him, he introduces them. “Ludak. Korm’akhan. Nameless.”

That done, he adds, “It’s as I’d expected. Saala sent a message that we should meet her near the Pond of Shadows. You know it, Korm‘akhan?” 

“I’ve heard of it,” says Korm, and Nameless nods too. For the benefit of the rest of the Angels, who have come up to join them, Korm adds, “It is a half-legendary place, the mists and waters of which are supposed to provide one with prophetic powers. But the tales say that it slowly robs people of their sanity too. I‘ve never been there.”

“I’ve been there once,” says Gurr’khan, “But it was a while ago.” He opens a parchment Ludak gave him and shows a crude map. “We’ll make it there tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” says Ludak, looking surprised. “It’s some sixty miles or so.”

“We came prepared,” says Gurr’khan. “Any news we should know of before we leave?”

“The only clan whose land you’ll be passing through are the River Snakes, and they haven’t caused any trouble recently. I did hear that three of their hunters disappeared recently.”

“Not that unusual here,” comments Korm. To his companions, he adds, “The River Snakes follow the Dragon Below, as some of the clans and tribes do. But they don’t just attack anyone they see, as a few do.”

After a little more discussion, Gurr’khan says that they should leave. Nameless, Korm and Luna conjure four mounts for the journey. Two are large black horses, with gray manes and tails. The other pair are larger, resembling large stags, their heads crowned with sharp, silvery antlers. All four creatures have legs ending in smoke-like, insubstantial hooves, which make no sound as they shift back and forth.

Seconds later, the group is galloping down the sides of the hill and into the swamp, heading north-west, Gurr’khan and Luna flying overhead in the form of eagles while the others ride. The magical mounts are incredibly fast and could potentially cover the distance to the Pond of Shadows in four or five hours. Not only do the insubstantial hooves seem to ignore physical terrain, but they pass over mud with no slackening of speed. 

The watery consistency of the vast swamp that covers most of the Marches, is another matter, as the group quickly discovers. Korm, more used to detecting the subtle indications of a terrain change, shouts a warning, but the speed of Six’s mount sends it into a large patch of water, disguised by the green growth on its surface. The _phantom steed_ splashes down to its belly, a desperate clutch from Six stopping him from going over its head.

“We have to slow down,” says Korm, “So we have time to see where we’re going. Water’s bad enough, but the patches of quicksand are worse.” Gurr’khan, having flown down to perch on his shoulder, squawks his agreement. 

Six, having righted himself, asks, “Quicksand? Tell me again why you like this place?”

Korm shrugs. “It’s home. And we have very few gnomes.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

The group continues, though at a slower pace. Even so, they are moving about five times as fast as they would if traveling on foot through the area. Over the next five hours, they cover about thirty miles. The terrain does not change much, though the number and size of the myriad small streams does diminish. Korm says that it’s because they have left behind the Glum River, which is either source or destination of most of the streams, as they pass deeper into the area called the Crawling Swamp. 

It is, he says, one of the less populated sections of the Marches, or at least as far as the humanoid clans and tribes of the area are concerned. Other creatures abound here, ranging from the purely natural to the completely monstrous, many of the latter the results of what the daelkyr invasion (which primarily entered Eberron through the Marches) left behind millennia ago.

Korm’s warning is illustrated violently, as the group is passing along a narrow stretch of foot-deep water between one of the streams and a large pool. Suddenly, three large shapes surge out of the stream, striking at the passing mounts. 

Luckily for the riders, the speed of the magical creatures throws off the attackers, only one of them managing to contact well. This one’s large claw slashes deeply into Nameless’s horse, which promptly disappears. Despite his surprise, the alienist lands on his feet as his mount evaporates beneath him. Looking up at the monstrous creature looming over him, seemingly a combination of lobster, spider and serpent, he yells, “Chuul!”

Even as Nameless quickly summons three of his patented wolves to rip into the creatures, Six adroitly leaps off his mount, while Gareth and Korm follow suit more clumsily. Gurr’khan takes wing, bringing down a _flame strike_ on two of the creatures, as does Luna, drawing pained shrieks and producing a smell strangely like roasted lobster. Unfortunately for the shifter, however, her position is much closer and with Six leaping out of reach, the closest chuul both slashes the stag she was sitting on and grabs her painfully in a claw.

She, however, is the only one seriously incommoded, as the chuul find a series of magical and physical attacks rain down on them. One, already hit by two _flame strike_s, staggers under an _arc of lightning_ from Korm and slowly collapses under the blows of Six. 

The one that grabbed Luna transfers the struggling eagle to its writhing tentacles. Luna’s relief at being free from the painfully constricting claw is short-lived, as the tentacles try to shove her into a hidden beak-like mouth. She changes back into a shifter, the increased size and strength letting her temporarily fight off the tentacles.

The third chuul, being swarmed by Nameless’s pseudonatural allies, attempts to flee, with one tasty morsel. It grabs onto Nameless and pulls him beneath it as it attempts to swim away, but the attempt slows it down just enough. Nameless, holding his breath, sees it literally disintegrate above him beneath a barrage of wolf fangs and bison horns.

As he resurfaces in the middle of a pool of blood and chuul pieces, Nameless’s creatures move to join the others in an assault on the last chuul, which is quickly ripped to shreds, Gurr’khan not even bothering to waste a spell or Gareth to struggle through the water to it. Luna extricates herself from the carcass and splashes over to join the others.

With the chuuls disposed of, Six asks, “Would these creatures have a lair nearby?”

“Quite possibly,” says Nameless. “I think we should investigate. There may be something valuable there.”

The eagle Gurr’khan reforms into the druid’s normal shape and he says, “You want to stop to look for and search a chuul lair? Just in case there’s anything valuable there?”

“Sure.”

“Adventurers is right!” says Gurr’khan disgustedly. “Hurry it up then.”

Six, with no need to breathe, and his new symbiotic eye letting him see in darkness, walks into the water to look for tracks. Luna follows him as a crocodile, while Korm grows gills and Gareth relies on his _ring of adaptation_. Due to his much slower speed, the paladin holds onto one end of a long rope that Six ties to his own belt.

After a few minutes, ripples in the water indicate their movement, and Nameless, waiting with the remaining mounts and Gurr‘khan, eventually sees them emerge on the far bank of the stream a few hundred feet away. Six waves to him and he magically flies over to join them. Six points out a huge, mostly underwater hole in the bank, partly hidden beneath large reeds. 

“In there,” says Six, as he removes the rope from his belt and ties it to a rock.

“What’s that for?” asks Nameless. 

“Gareth,“ chuckles Six, “He’s really slow and he could probably use a bath. So…“ 

The others laugh and follow him in. The hole leads into a gently sloping tunnel, that eventually leads to a large muddy chamber with a stagnant pool in the middle and a couple of openings in the walls.

As the group carefully moves towards the pool, they catch sight of a pile of bones behind one of the openings. There is movement among them, and clicking sounds mark the advance of dozens of little chuuls. Which Luna promptly fries on the spot with a spell.

That being taken care of, the group checks the lair carefully. Other than the bones and other remains, the main thing the lair contains is in the pool, three mostly intact bodies buried in the mud at the bottom.

“Chuul like to have their victims rot for a bit before eating them. Must have figured we’d be a good addition,” says Korm.

Six checks the corpses and then says, “Nothing valuable. Only this.” He holds up a well-made falchion, its blade etched with wavy lines that look like a stream of serpents flowing down the blade.

“These must be the River Snakes hunters who were lost,” says Korm, taking the blade. “That looks like their clan markings.”

He sticks the falchion in a bag and the Angels head back out, to be met at the entrance by a glowering Gareth, evidently just having emerged from the water.

“What the hell were…,” he begins, but Six interrupts. 

“Keeping you safe. And you better get back in the water. We’re done here.”

When they return and tell Gurr’khan what they found, he simply grunts and says, “We wasted enough time. Let’s go. It’s getting close to dark anyway, so lets find a place to camp.”

About forty-five minutes later, the group finds a low hill with significantly drier ground, where they set up for the night. Nameless puts up a _tiny hut_ to make the stay more comfortable, causing Korm to promptly say that he’s staying outside. “What’s the use of being back here,” he argues, “If I’m not going to enjoy the weather?”

The night passes without incident till midnight. Luna, on watch with Gareth and Six, hears the softest of sounds, no more than a puff of air. Looking around to find its source, she hears a tiny, crunching sound from beside the sleeping form of Nameless.

“Gareth! Six!” she says urgently but quietly, “I heard something near Nameless.”

As the other two watch carefully, Luna walks over toward Nameless, all senses alert for a sign of danger. She still sees nothing, but as she nears him, there is a soft puff of air again.


----------



## Solarious

I wonder what Luna would do if she encountered the Impure Princes. Nothing that would really endear her to Gurr'khan, no doubt.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> I wonder what Luna would do if she encountered the Impure Princes. Nothing that would really endear her to Gurr'khan, no doubt.



 What are the Impure Princes? That's not a reference I recognize. As for what Luna would do, in most given situations, if she can work in a _flame strike_, that's the good one to bet on.


----------



## Solarious

Magic of Eberron. Gatekeepers who embrace half-daelkyrs and use symbionts to fight abberations. Grabs 4/6 spellcasting, lots of class ability goodies, symbiont luring, an expanded spell list, and Favoured Enemy (Abberations). Luna may have to rework her character a bit, but Flame Strikes would come in fast and furious, although it sacrifices much of her shapeshifting power.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Magic of Eberron. Gatekeepers who embrace half-daelkyrs and use symbionts to fight abberations. Grabs 4/6 spellcasting, lots of class ability goodies, symbiont luring, an expanded spell list, and Favoured Enemy (Abberations). Luna may have to rework her character a bit, but Flame Strikes would come in fast and furious, although it sacrifices much of her shapeshifting power.



 Aha! Magic of Eberron is one of the Eberron books I haven't really looked at. Sounds like something that might be right up Luna's alley, plus I'm fine with letting players rework existing PC abilities to qualify for a PrC or tweaking a PrC to better fit a PC. Thanks for the info.


----------



## Solarious

All I ask is that you post what happens when Gurr'khan hears that not only has Luna embraced symbionts in her quest to reduce Yarkuun Draal to rubble, but also that there is an entire *order* of the crazy idiots running about with symbionts attached to them. Gatekeepers all, no less. 

This is gonna be good!


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> All I ask is that you post what happens when Gurr'khan hears that not only has Luna embraced symbionts in her quest to reduce Yarkuun Draal to rubble, but also that there is an entire *order* of the crazy idiots running about with symbionts attached to them. Gatekeepers all, no less.




Definitely. Whether there's any development on it or not, I can think of a very easy way for the subject to be introduced next session (which should be the 16th or so). 

The PCs actually hit 10th at the end of last session, so Luna could theoretically take the first level of the PrC, or whatever I decide to turn it into. They were a little short, but since my XP progression is essentially the PCs getting what I want, I figured I'd just have them level up now, since we weren't playing for two weekends. 

There's one more instalment in last session coming up. Let's just say that it covers me doing a little mathematical experiment regarding the question, "Can 4th lvl NPCs present a challenge to a group of uber 9th lvl PCs?" Yes, they can.



> This is gonna be good!




Of course! Now that I've made Luna fat, it's the least I could do to let her screw up the Gatekeepers and the Marches.


----------



## Sidekick

Looking forward to it Shil.

Also the whole ring of regeneration turning Luna into a fattie - inspired!


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Looking forward to it Shil.
> 
> Also the whole ring of regeneration turning Luna into a fattie - inspired!



 I have to give credit to Korm's player (Michael Tree) for that. I already had some plans for the symbionts to affect the users over time, but this one was something I hadn't specifically intended. When Luna found it on the insane, masochistic, obese hobgoblin and was arguing with Korm about it, he said, "Look at that hobgoblin. Maybe it'll make you fat." Yoink! I had to DM for the next ten minutes while laughing hysterically on the inside.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> There's one more instalment in last session coming up. Let's just say that it covers me doing a little mathematical experiment regarding the question, "Can 4th lvl NPCs present a challenge to a group of uber 9th lvl PCs?" Yes, they can.




Well Mallus managed to trump you. He nearly had a TPK with 2nd lvl warriors. That should be in "The Chronicles of Burne and Some Others of Lesser Importance, in about 6 months, but *YOU* can enjoy reading the story in the mean time.


----------



## Mallus

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Well Mallus managed to trump you. He nearly had a TPK with 2nd lvl warriors.



(and the 2 7th level castrati priests with suboptimal spell loadouts, a 7th level swashbuckler, and a monk6/fighter1 with anti-magic field cast on him...) 

Heh, thanks. But I'm not in shil's league (seeing as I wind up outsourcing a lot of the tactical/technical design work to him  )

Since he's raised the bar, I find that I'm going to have to bring a little more _game_ to my game. A campaign can't exist on clever atmospherics alone. Well, yes it can. But in this case it won't.


----------



## Rackhir

Mallus said:
			
		

> (and the 2 7th level castrati priests with suboptimal spell loadouts, a 7th level swashbuckler, and a monk6/fighter1 with anti-magic field cast on him...)
> 
> Heh, thanks. But I'm not in shil's league (seeing as I wind up outsourcing a lot of the tactical/technical design work to him  )
> 
> Since he's raised the bar, I find that I'm going to have to bring a little more _game_ to my game. A campaign can't exist on clever atmospherics alone. Well, yes it can. But in this case it won't.




Well he neglected to mention that those 4th lv characters were backed up by a hihg level Bard and a high level Marshall, while using a bunch of odd ball feats/spells from a half dozen different books that stacked in all sorts of lovely ways. The WotC optimization boards would have been proud of him.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Well he neglected to mention that those 4th lv characters were backed up by a hihg level Bard and a high level Marshall, while using a bunch of odd ball feats/spells from a half dozen different books that stacked in all sorts of lovely ways. The WotC optimization boards would have been proud of him.



 Say what? There was one 8th lvl bard and one 8th lvl Marshal. And eight 4th lvl Ftr/Bbns. With no spells outside the PHB, one magic item from Complete Adventurer (a lyre!), and two feats that are outside the PHB and the ECS. And significantly underequipped for their level. An EL12 encounter, if you want the numbers.

Against five 9th lvl PCs and a 12th lvl NPC, of whom the PCs are built with effectively 40+ point buy, all with a significant amount of non-core abilities or PrCs or items and what have you, amny of them tweaked by me to make the PCs even more effective. 

Methinks the lady doth complain too much !



			
				Mallus said:
			
		

> Heh, thanks. But I'm not in shil's league (seeing as I wind up outsourcing a lot of the tactical/technical design work to him  )




I'm Indian. It's your national duty to outsource to me, darn it!


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> Say what? There was one 8th lvl bard and one 8th lvl Marshal. And eight 4th lvl Ftr/Bbns. With no spells outside the PHB, one magic item from Complete Adventurer (a lyre!), and two feats that are outside the PHB and the ECS. And significantly underequipped for their level. An EL12 encounter, if you want the numbers.
> 
> Against five 9th lvl PCs and a 12th lvl NPC, of whom the PCs are built with effectively 40+ point buy, all with a significant amount of non-core abilities or PrCs or items and what have you, amny of them tweaked by me to make the PCs even more effective.
> 
> Methinks the lady doth complain too much !




I'll let our faithful viewers be the judge.



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> And since I'm sure a few of you are curious, here's a
> breakdown of the uber 4th lvl guys:
> 
> They were Orc Bbn2/Ftr2, with 20 Str, using Masterwork
> falchions that they had Weapon Focus in, which put them at:
> +11 hit, 2d4+7 dmg
> 
> When raging, Str went to 24, making it: +13 hit, 2d4+10 dmg
> 
> They had the Vexing Flanker feat from PHB2, giving them +4
> when flanking, not +2, so: +17 hit, 2d4+10 dmg
> 
> The Bard leading them was 8th lvl and had the Song of the
> Heart feat (Eberron Campaign Setting), so with him using
> Inspire Courage: +20 hit, 2d4+13 dmg
> 
> The Marshal (18 Cha) was using the Master of Tactics and
> Motivate Attacks auras, providing +2 to hit and +4 to dmg
> when flanking: +22 hit, 2d4+17 dmg
> 
> And lastly, the Bard hit them with a Haste, giving them +1 to
> hit and the extra attack: +23/+23 hit, 2d4+17 dmg
> 
> With full Power Attack all the time: +19/+19 hit, 2d4+25 dmg.
> So 30 pts of damage a hit, and with falchions they threatened
> a crit on an 18. Luckily I rolled very few of those and that
> one wolf made the guy use a 19 and a 20 to resist trip
> attempts, so only poor Luna got critted.
> 
> The Bard intended to use a spell called Tactical Precision,
> which provides a +2 to hit and +1d6 sneak attack when
> flanking, but never got to (due to Nameless's Solid Fog and
> the Flame Strikes).




He also failed to mention the bard's Fascinate ability had a save DC of 35 or so? And that despite being only 8th lvl was able to fascinate the entire group of 6 characters (normally it's 1 per 3 lvls - I think it was the Lyre) and that it meant we got to sit there drooling while the group closed into close range so they could use all those nice flanking feats.

Who doth protest too much?


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> I'll let our faithful viewers be the judge.




I'm still not seeing anything you listed which contradicts what I said above. Two feats outside the PHB and the ECS, as I said - Vexing Flanker being one and the other being the one that allowed him to fascinate one person per class level. And the bard never used the one non-PHB spell he had. The stuff listed with the marshal are his class abilities.



> He also failed to mention the bard's Fascinate ability had a save DC of 35 or so? And that despite being only 8th lvl was able to fascinate the entire group of 6 characters (normally it's 1 per 3 lvls - I think it was the Lyre) and that it meant we got to sit there drooling while the group closed into close range so they could use all those nice flanking feats.




See above. And Fascinate being based off perform checks is what makes it that difficult. An 8th lvl bard focused on Perform could probably crack a +20 bonus, so he'd set a DC of 40+. Bards are scary when they want to be, and esp. when they have buddies.


----------



## Sidekick

Wow Shil.

That group is fearsome. All core and below the group's level, but fearsome nonetheless.

I think you've got a very astute group when it comes to tactics and the such.

There's no way my group would survive that - they just don't have (or want) the tactical nouse to survive against that.

But then again, I'm not a member of the RBDM club


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Wow Shil.
> 
> That group is fearsome. All core and below the group's level, but fearsome nonetheless.




Yes, it was. Mainly a mechanical exercise on my part, though it tied in very well with where they are in the Marches and other stuff going on with them. 

I don't normally use non-core materials (even the stuff which the PCs are using) and almost always use enemies weaker than the PCs overall (in 39 sessions, the only fight against a superior collection of enemies was vs. the aberrations at the ziggurat during Nameless's rescue), and it's getting a little more difficult now as the PCs increase in power. Plus, with how well this group is set up for buffing each other, I like to give them opportunities to get into fights with all their buffs up, in which case they're really fearsome. 

So I was just experimenting to see if a little use of non-core materials would let me continue the type of encounters/adventures I prefer, and it seems it shouldn't be any trouble. 



> I think you've got a very astute group when it comes to tactics and the such.




I'd say that they're very good at individual tactics, and competent at group tactics, but with scope for improvement. They're understandably a lot better at working as a team than when they started, but what they really do well at is function effectively as individuals, and do so well enough to be an effective group.  



> There's no way my group would survive that - they just don't have (or want) the tactical nouse to survive against that.




Well, an EL 12 encounter is supposedly exactly as three of my PCs, so for five of them it should have been a tough but definitely winnable encounter (they're technically EL 13.5, and on the scale the core books are built, are more like EL 15 in actuality). With Gurr'khan along, it should have been a fairly easy encounter, but we all know how far CR/EL goes. Without Gurr'khan it would have been a TPK, and even with him, a few people went below -10. 

And now I should stop talking about this and go write it up.



> But then again, I'm not a member of the RBDM club




Thanks - I try 

I could make the argument that my action point rule for preventing PC death (without it, after last session, there'd have been 20 PC deaths in the 39 sessions of the campaign) proves that I'm actually just a nice guy, but I've always believed that killing PCs is easy. And provides an escape. They suffer more when they remain alive.


----------



## Solarious

Awww... think of it this way. He didn't stuff them all up with magic weapons and nifty wands to blow you up with.  Worse, he didn't slot them up with scrolls of spells (and potions), which a mid-level bard would have probably been able to use with ease. And since it counts as actual treasure, most of which you will never get to touch... 

Methinks he's being generous!


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Methinks he's being generous!




That's what I always say 

And as an example of said generosity, here's the last bit of last session:

**************************************************************

Luna pokes Nameless awake and tells him what just happened. The alienist promptly commands the _tiny hut_ to shed a dim light to improve visibility, and then casts a _detect magic_. 

Luna, meanwhile, calls on her shifter heritage. Her face immediately becomes more bestial and her sense of smell improves. She begins to sniff around the area, while Six searches in a more mundane manner.

As they are doing so, Nameless points to a spot near his bedroll. “There’s a lingering magical aura here. Someone recently used conjuration magic here. I should be able to tell the power of the magic by how long the aura lingers.”

Luna sniffs the area he indicates and then wrinkles her nose, which currently resembles a deformed muzzle. “There’s a scent here, but I don’t recognize it. It’s musty. Like something old that hasn’t got much air.” She wrinkles her nose again. “And the smell of wet hair.”

“Wet hair?” queries Gurr’khan, whom (along with Korm) Gareth has awakened.

“Yes. Strange.”

Six, kneeling near Luna, points to a spot a short step from her. “There’s a mark here. See where the moss is flattened? I think it was made by a boot, but it’s difficult to say.” he rises and walks around in a circle, checking the ground and spiralling wider and wider till he stands a good fifty feet from the camp. “No tracks coming in or going out that I can find.”

Nameless, who has been focusing on the magical aura while listening to the conversation, interjects, “It just faded away. That took about three minutes, so if it came from a spell, it was anywhere from the 4th to the 6th valence.”

“The smell’s fading too,” says Luna. Then she frowns. “What’s that on your hand, Nameless?”

“What?”

“There.” Luna takes Nameless’s hand and indicates the small dragonshard attached to his ring. Only her incredibly keen eyesight* could have seen it, but now that she points it out Nameless can see a tiny pink glow in the heart of the crystal. He quickly casts another _detect magic_ and focuses for a few seconds. “Divination magic. Also just a lingering aura. And conjuration, but there’s always a conjuration aura due to the _dimension door_ power.” A second later, he adds, “It’s gone now.”

“So you don’t know what that was? Where did you get that thing?” asks Gurr’khan.

“We found it on that Desro guy we told you about, the one whose lair you used your _Stone Tell_ in.”

“Hmm. What do you make of it?”

“Somebody using it to magically spy on us, probably. I didn’t detect any other powers besides the one when I identified its properties, so it shouldn’t have any others.”

“Just because a tree looks healthy doesn’t mean it is. Magic can be fooled. You should be careful with that.”

“I will.”

There is a little more discussion of what just happened, but with no real options to find out more about it and no evident danger at hand, there is little to do but head back to bed or go back on watch.

Luna comments to Six a little worriedly, “I’m really getting tired of all this weird crap happening around us. I’m always wondering what the hell is going to happen next. I probably won’t be able to sleep at all ton....”

Six’s answer is drowned out by the loud snores coming from Korm’s bedroll, outside the _tiny hut_.

***
The next morning, Six watches the surrounding landscape as the others sit in a group, focusing their minds on whatever magic they wish to use that day. 

Just as they are completing their preparation, Six notices movement in the undergrowth that covers the hill. As he rises to his feet, a man steps out of the bushes some sixty feet away and waves. “Greetings!” he calls loudly, “May I approach?”

“Yes,” replies Six. “We have company, folks,” he says to his companions, who turn to look at the stranger.

The man steps closer, and as he does, he asks loudly, “Who are you that come to the land of the River Snakes?”

Without waiting for an answer, he continues, his voice now taking on a sing-song tone, “Is this not a beautiful land? It is rich in the bounty of the Marches, with many beasts to hunt. We are brave hunters, we that are the River Snakes. Let me tell you of my people.” As he continues to speak, he drops a hand to his belt, where a small lyre hangs, and deftly flicks the strings.

As a chord accompanies his words, which continue unabated, the Angels find themselves mesmerized** by the speech. A small voice in each of their heads tells them that this is strange, that they are being magically entranced by the words of a bard, and that they need to act now. But the voice is drowned out by the speaker’s words.

The man approaches at a careful pace, and then, from the trees and bushes behind him, more people arise. Five are orcs, with two half-orcs and a pair of humans. All are tall and muscular, garbed in studded leather armor, with the hilts of falchions are visible above their shoulders. Except one, who wears what looks like thick and unusually bulky hide armor, and carries a shield. All of them have large tattoos of snakes running down each arm, as does the bard. 

The man with the shield steps to the side of the bard, while the others split into two groups and walk around them. The Angels notice their approach, but their magically-induced fascination with the bard does not cease. 

Fortunately for them, they have a powerful ally. Gurr’khan finally manages to break free of the enchantment and surges to his feet with a yell. “Snap out of it! We’re under attack!”

As soon as he does so, the intruders shout orcish war-cries and reach for their scimitars. The fascination of the Angels is promptly broken, especially since the bard too ends his mesmerizing speech. Instead, he shouts, “Let the serpent’s coils engulf their prey! Barbarians, attack!”

The shield-bearing man quickly steps before the bard, drawing his battleaxe and raising it to the sky. He screams wordlessly, raises both arms and brings them down. Tiny motes of light dance about his hands and shoot towards the feet of the other eight attackers, changing into streams of greenish light, which wrap around their legs and raise them slightly above the ground. And then, though their legs do not move, they are propelled forward into the Angels. As the light flows behind them, it resembles nothing so much as the undulating coils of giant green snakes.***

“What the…?“ says Luna, staring at the sight, before Gurr’khan shouts, “River Snake magic. Let’s them move into position faster. Stop staring do something!”

“Done,“ says Luna, dropping to all fours as she transforms into a large bear. While she does, Korm and Gurr’khan bring _flame strike_s down on the bard and his ally, also striking some of the raging barbarians rushing by them. While all of the targets stagger and are badly burned, none go down, the barbarians due to sheer mindless rage and the two leaders because they evidently have some magical protection that lessens the damage.

“Try walking through this,” mutters Nameless, conjuring a _solid fog_ to envelop four of the barbarians. Gareth settles for creating a _magic circle_ to protect himself and nearby allies, while Six, some distance ahead of his allies, swings his chain and prepares for the first foe to come within reach.

And then the barbarians are among them, howling their blood lust and calling to the Dragon Below to grant them strength. Even in their battle rage, they are canny enough to double up against opponents, seemingly well-trained in fighting as pairs, simultaneously swinging falchions in blows that are as powerful as the best that Korm or Six can land.

Luna and Korm face two enemies on one flank, while Six darts in and out on another, keeping the other pair occupied. For a few seconds, they face only the four attackers, but then the bard _dispel_s the _fog_ and the others are charging in too. 

Realizing that Six will quickly be overrun, Nameless attempts a _summon_s to help him block the charge. And then swears in frustration as only one pseudonatural wolf appears. While it engages one of the barbarians, another rushes to engage Six, and two more rush at Korm and Luna.

Korm scowls, noting the shifting odds, “Stay by my side, Luna. We can’t let them get by.” Luna growls her agreement and sets herself by the big orc. She slashes out at one attacker, staggering him enough for Korm to swiftly decapitate him. Even as he falls, another takes his place, falchion slashing down to lay open Luna’s shoulder.

Another one manages to get past the two druids, but Gareth, behind them, blocks him from heading for Nameless and Gurr’khan. Kizmet creates sparks off the edge of the barbarian’s falchion, and Gareth catches a quick glimpse of the same markings that they found on the weapon in the chuul lair, before the sword swings back viciously to gash his side. “I could use some healing,” Gareth calls, causing Korm, already bleeding from multiple wounds, to shout back between sword-blows, “I‘m a little … fricking … busy … here!!” 

Across the battlefield, Six continues to hold his side of the line, darting back and forth around two of the barbarians, forming an elusive target, but one too dangerous to ignore. Nameless’ wolf and the barbarian facing it slash away at each other, eventually bringing each other down.

With the enemies not yet reaching them, Nameless and Gurr’khan are free to again bring down explosive spells on the two leaders. But as they are casting, the bard speaks a quick word and disappears, though his voice continues to be heard. The spells come down on only the axe-wielder, who has just finished drinking a potion to cure some of his wounds. 

He screams in agony and falls to his knees, but somehow remains conscious. Again, he raises his arms and cries an inarticulate invocation. And again the motes and then serpents of light appear, propelling the barbarians forward into significantly more advantageous positions. 

“Damn! Now we‘re in trouble,” mutter Korm, as Luna and he suddenly find their enemies all around them, instead of attacking from only one side. With things steadily getting worse, Korm gives himself over to the battle-frenzy too, feeling rage give him extra strength and durability. Even so, he knows it is not likely to be enough. Six staggers back under paired attacks from enemies who suddenly flank him. Even more worryingly, the invisible bard’s voice can be heard in the casting of a _haste_ spell, further empowering them.

For a moment, it seems the Angels will be instantly overwhelmed, but Gurr’khan buys them a little extra time. He throws a piece of mistletoe in the air and calls forth his most powerful spell. A rain of green droplets stream down from the air, touching only the Angels. Wherever they touch, wounds heal and pain disappears, but they fade away much too soon.

Relieved at the extra healing, Luna rears up and comes down with all her weight, claws and fangs bringing down an enemy in bloody ruin. Beside her, Korm draws upon his rage, launching a mighty blow that smashes through another enemy’s defenses. His sword smashes through the enemy orc’s falchion, armor and chest all in one. But the rage makes Korm reckless too, and there are now enemies all around him to seize the opportunity. Gareth’s foe spins around and slashes down, laying Korm’s back open to the bone. The big orc collapses****, blood pooling around him. As he falls, Gareth calls to the Flame and smites the attacker, killing him instantly. 

“Korm!“ shouts Luna, though it emerges only as a growl. She shoulders aside an enemy and rushes forward heedlessly, reaching forth a paw. Luna growls out a spell, and instantly a cocoon of force envelops Korm, simultaneously healing and protecting him.

The act is costly. Focused on healing Korm, she has no defense as two falchions slash down on her, and Luna collapses***** against the cocoon, leaving a thick trail of blood as she slides off. As she falls, Luna feels the beast spirit that lives within her stir, sending a trickle of stored magical power into her ravaged body to prevent her soul from fleeing. There is also a  strange tingle from the symbiont that is wrapped around her forepaw, but even as she wonders what it might be, unconsciousness takes her. 

Again, Gareth takes the opportunity to avenge an ally and smites down one of the pair that dropped Luna, but the other turns and rush Nameless and Gurr’khan. The alienist is in the middle of casting another spell, this one conjuring up two wolves, one of which rips out the axe-wielding leader's throat, while the other brings down one of Six’s wounded enemies (and leaves him free to dispatch the other). 

Unfortunately, Nameless has had to advance ahead of Gurr'khan to bring the targets within range of the spell, and as he completes it, the screaming barbarian rushes into him. The alienist tries to backpedal, but his enemy is too quick, and a couple of slashes drop him in a bloodied heap******. The barbarian howls in triumph and turns to chop at Gurr’khan. The druid growls as he takes a cut across the chest, the sound deepening into a roar as he transforms into a bear, this one even larger and more feral than the form Luna takes.

The barbarian only snarls and raises his falchion, and then turns at the sound of a charging Gareth. Even in the middle of the combat, with allies lying bloody and unconscious across the field, the paladin cannot keep from smiling as he yells, “Don’t worry, Gurr’khan - I’ll save you!” As the barbarian turns, Gareth calls again to the flame and brings Kizmet down in a gleaming arc, splitting his skull down to the chin. Gurr’khan gestures with a paw and he quickly turns to see their last enemy in full flight.

Though all of the barbarians fight to the death, the bard is smarter. Having reappeared only to swig a potion, he flies away as fast as he can, making no attempt to rise and just skimming the swamp in an attempt at increased speed. 

Smart though he may be, his timing is a little off. Unlike Gurr’khan and Gareth, too far away to do much, Six is much closer at hand. The big warforged hurriedly grabs his longbow. Reaching into his quiver for one of the magical _frost_ arrows recovered months ago from the Daask gnolls, Six forces himself to be calm and carefully take aim at the receding target.

“Not so fast,“ he mutters, as much to to the fleeing bard as to himself, and then releases the bowstring. There is a moment of hopeful anticipation, and then the bard screams, cartwheels in mid-air, and splashes into the water below him. As he sinks, Six rushes forward as fast as he can go and, reaching the nearest piece of land, dives after him.

While Gurr’khan, after growling at Gareth for his temerity, takes care of Luna, Gareth revives Nameless. Presumably for the sole pleasure of being able to inform him as he regains consciousness, “Don’t worry - you’re fine now. I saved you.”

As Luna and Korm regain consciousness and a fully healed Korm emerges from the cocoon, they are momentarily startled to see the bard’s head, eyes closed, floating through the water a hundred feet away. Gareth and Gurr’khan stop them before any spells can be hurled, and a few moments later the rest of the bard emerges, carried by Six as he wades ashore.

Staggering to his feet (and ignoring Gareth), Nameless says grimly, “I don’t know who these River Snakes are, but does anyone here mind exterminating them?”

Korm shrugs. “No problem with that whatsoever.” Expecting Luna to express a similar opinion and hearing nothing, Korm looks at her to see the still-bloodied druidess, now back in shifter form, staring at the symbiont on her arm.

“I feel strange,” she mutters, and then her eyes go wide as she realizes what feels different.  

* +20 on Spot checks now.
** DC 35 Fascination
*** Marshal’s Grant Move Action ability, with a little added flavor
**** First one past -10
***** Second one past -10
***** Third one past -10


----------



## Solarious

Bwahaha. I'm not even going to try to guess what Luna's latest predicament is. It would ruin the suspense. And I'm not doing that for nothing short of a few million dollars.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Bwahaha. I'm not even going to try to guess what Luna's latest predicament is. It would ruin the suspense. And I'm not doing that for nothing short of a few million dollars.



 Apparently you're more appreciative of suspense than Luna's player is. I just got an email from her saying that she'd never be able to survive till the 16th (the likely date of our next session) without knowing, and saying that I couldn't be mean enough to make her wait. Being the kind, gentle soul that I am, I said I'd tell her tomorrow, since I have to make her suffer for at least a day.

Of course, it goes without saying that all I'll be telling her is what Luna is aware of, as opposed to anything else that might be occuring. I wouldn't want to burden her with any metagame knowledge, after all


----------



## ajanders

I can't help but be jealous your plans work out so much better than mine...


----------



## ajanders

I can't help but be jealous your plans work out so much better than mine...


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> I can't help but be jealous your plans work out so much better than mine...



 So jealous that you're repeating yourself, I see 

Admittedly it's a lot easier to have one's plans work out as a DM than a player, but here's a not-so-well-kept secret about my game - I really don't have much in the way of plans. 

I don't plan things more than a session or two ahead, and even when it comes to things that might turn into a plot arc, I generally just have certain NPCs in place doing certain things, and what happens with them (or if they even become relevant or feature in the campaign) effectively depends on what the PCs/players do. I've had NPCs I thought were making a single appearance (Bodo & Killian being two examples) become longer-term presences due to PC choice, and I've had others who might have been more serious long-term NPCs just show up once and disappear (though some remain important through actions off-camera).

So the PCs/players can't really screw up my plans, especially where it comes to directions they want to take the campaign, since I don't really have any. Saves me a lot of work and aggravation as a DM, and also keeps things interesting for me, since I often find out the next move in the campaign only a step or two before the players do.


----------



## Solarious

shilsen said:
			
		

> Apparently you're more appreciative of suspense than Luna's player is. I just got an email from her saying that she'd never be able to survive till the 16th (the likely date of our next session) without knowing, and saying that I couldn't be mean enough to make her wait. Being the kind, gentle soul that I am, I said I'd tell her tomorrow, since I have to make her suffer for at least a day.



Ooh! The 16th is my birthday. Will there be anything special waiting for me that evening? 



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Of course, it goes without saying that all I'll be telling her is what Luna is aware of, as opposed to anything else that might be occuring. I wouldn't want to burden her with any metagame knowledge, after all



I imagine she is less than appreciative of the mystery, considering that her character is the one about to undergo a padagrim shift.  But hey, one of the joys of being a RBDM is watching your players writhe in agony while not _really_ (in technical terms) doing anything to them. And being generous by insisting you could do worse with less, but out of your kind heart you go easy on them!  Give with one hand, take with the other. The bait and switch never fails to work. 

You can tell her that this particular plot twist is a gift from me. Consider it my contribution to the RBDM's club of scheming evil laughs (not to be confused with triumphant evil laughs, or hurbis-induced triumphant seeming evil laughs). Every little bit matters when you want to petition for admission into it's hallowed halls.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Ooh! The 16th is my birthday. Will there be anything special waiting for me that evening?




The assurance that while your enjoyment of the day will be offset by the suffering the Angels go through, so as to balance the happiness-sadness ratio in the world?

Actually, the Eberron game got pushed back to the 23rd, since the one-off game wasn't quite wrapped up last Saturday. But we're actually going to do some IC roleplaying over email/online in between, so I'll try to remember to post that in between. I'm also considering putting up the characters in the Rogues Gallery here on ENWorld.



> I imagine she is less than appreciative of the mystery, considering that her character is the one about to undergo a padagrim shift.




True, especially since the player has significant similarities to Luna when it comes to the subject of patience. Since I told her something of what's happening on Saturday (and it was a positive thing), she's happier now, though she's also been warned that I'm just letting her know what Luna's aware of, and will only discover all the other stuff going on when her character does. 



> But hey, one of the joys of being a RBDM is watching your players writhe in agony while not _really_ (in technical terms) doing anything to them. And being generous by insisting you could do worse with less, but out of your kind heart you go easy on them!  Give with one hand, take with the other. The bait and switch never fails to work.
> 
> You can tell her that this particular plot twist is a gift from me. Consider it my contribution to the RBDM's club of scheming evil laughs (not to be confused with triumphant evil laughs, or hurbis-induced triumphant seeming evil laughs). Every little bit matters when you want to petition for admission into it's hallowed halls.




Certainly. One of the minor rules of RBDMing is to always give credit where due. It sets one up for the moments when one gets to reveal to the PCs/players all the various ways that they screwed themselves


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Ooh! The 16th is my birthday. Will there be anything special waiting for me that evening?




As promised, here is what we've handled so far between sessions:

*********************************************************************
Six emerges from the water, carrying the very unconscious and barely alive bard who was leading the enemy.

Luna, meanwhile, is still staring at her arm. She, and anybody else who cares to look, can see her wounds gradually healing, at approximately the same rate as it does when she uses a _lesser vigor_ spell. What the others can’t see, however, is the gentle warmth Luna feels emanating from the snakelike band around her forearm.

The healing begins at the arm, the nearest wound (a deep cut on the shoulder) closing gradually, and then the next wound beginning to seal itself, and so on. At the current speed and with the extent of her injuries, it will take over ten minutes for them to close, but the healing shows no signs of abating. 

Gurr’khan looks at the healing wounds, with eyebrows raised, and then grunts, “Nice work. Did you just use some magic I didn’t notice, or is this something else I should be concerned about?” 

Then he turns to look at Six and the bard, and heads over. “Good work. I should make sure he doesn’t die. I have a few questions for the fool.”

"Well, Gurr’khan,” says Nameless, walking beside him, “I am getting mighty tired of people taking whacks at us. Do you have any problems with us smashing this tribe? I want to impress upon these tribes that we are trifled with at their peril.”

Nameless goes on to suggest that Six have his ears blocked and have his chain wrapped around the bard’s neck while they interrogate the bard to find out what was behind the attack.

Gurr’khan grins, but there’s little mirth in it. “From what Surr’kal told me, you folks have been having that happen a lot.” He throws the unconscious bard a look and says, “But I’d rather we not go off and start dropping _fireball_s and _flame strike_s on a village full of women and children. It’s not like the River Snakes, or most of the clans or tribes, whatever their beliefs, to just attack travelers. Let’s talk to this one first.”

Gareth nods. “While some in this village may be violent, to destroy the entire village would be evil. To destroy the warriors of this village, which are also the hunters, would also be evil.” _We either find a way to speak with them, or we find another way.

Nameless grins. “Who are you and what have you done with Gareth?” The paladin just stares at him unamusedly.

Luna uses a charge of lesser vigor to revive the bard. He opens his eyes with a pained groan and tries to sit up, before hitting the limits of the chain. His eyes flicker back and forth, panic evident in them for a moment, as well as more than a little surprise as he sees Korm, Luna and Nameless all still alive. Then he quickly seems to grow calmer. 

”What do you fools want?” he asks, his voice containing a trace of the melody it’s capable of, but drowned out by the pain of his wounds.

“Well,” says Nameless, “I was just going to wipe out your village and tribe, but he (pointing at Gurr’khan) wanted to find out if there was some reason for your attacking us first. Considering that we took a risk to find out what happened to some of your missing hunters, I’m happy to oblige you if you’d rather just die.”

An expression of surprise flits across the captive’s face and he begins, “Find out what happened to our hunters ...?” Then he stops, and the expression quickly changes to a scowl. 

“You lie. The Khyber Serpent spoke to my people last night, warning that you had come to defile our sacred sites. I saw and heard it myself. Some of the fools were not sure, since it was not the shamans who saw it, but my people and I knew that the Serpent speaking to us was a sign of the importance of the situation. So we came, and here you are. We would have returned in triumph with your heads, if not for your damned luck.” By the time he’s done, he’s almost shouting, though evidently possessing enough of a sense of self-preservation not to try an escape. 

Gurr’khan, listening intently, says, “He’s an idiot. The Khyber Serpent, I believe, is their clan totem. The totems only speak through the tribe’s shamans.” He grunts and adds, “Mainly because that’s a bloody good way for the shamans to retain significant power in the tribes. Which is easier with idiots like this one.”

The captive just glares at Gurr’khan, but doesn’t add anything.

Korm, with his knowledge of the Marches, corroborates what Gurr’khan says, and adds that there are some daelkyr ruins within the swamp. While the Gatekeepers, and the clans/tribes that lean towards them, try to keep people away from such sites, the Cults of the Dragon Below venerate these locations.

Nameless walks over and pulls out the blade that they found. He shows it to the bard, telling him how they recovered them from the lair of the chuul that attacked them, and where it was. 

“Unfortunately, we killed all the chuul, but I’m sure we can find something unpleasant enough to feed you to. Defiling holy sites wasn’t originally on our itinerary for this trip, but I’m sure we can spare enough time to oblige you. I’d hate for you to have gone through all this trouble to attack us and then not defile them like you were expecting us to. That would be rude.”

The bard looks at the blade and then back up at Nameless. “Why should I believe you?” His brow furrows slightly, and then he continues, “You are a very fine liar, but the Serpent has told me of you and your people, and that is all I need to know.” 

With more vehemence, he adds, “And your threats mean nothing. My people will come searching for me, and if they find you here they will kill you. And if you visit the sacred sites, then they will certainly follow and kill you. There were only ten of us here and we almost bested you.” He pauses to glare at Luna, Korm and Gurr’khan. “Even the aid of the Gatekeepers will not save you from the hundreds of my clan. You can kill me now, but your deaths will follow. Swiftly.”

Once he’s done, Gurr’khan grunts, “Like I said, he’s an idiot. Fanatical one, which is always an entertaining sort. The one thing he’s right about is the clan thing. They take it very seriously here, as Korm’akhan can tell you, and they’re sure to have more looking for this bunch, though how soon, is the question.”

”Actually, another question is this whole snake totem thing.” Gurr’khan walks over to the captive and says, “Whether you believe it or not, we had no intention of violating any of your sites. Your totem, or whatever it was, lied to you. How’d you know it was your totem, anyway? Maybe you just had too much to drink.”

The bard glares up at him and snarls, “You blaspheme what you do not know. I saw it with my own eyes, and others did too. It appeared an hour before dawn, near the edge of the village, a giant green serpent wreathed in flame, floating in mid-air. It was the Khyber Serpent, exactly as the shamans describe it. It said that intruders had come to violate its sacred site, and that the clan should rise to crush them. 

There were six of us there, and four ran to call one of the shamans, but we,” he pauses to glance at his dead compatriot in the heavy armor, “Waited and listened. The serpent told us exactly where you would be and that there were six of you. It described you perfectly. It said to slay you all and to take your possessions to the sacred site, and then it disappeared, right before the others returned with two of our shamans.”

”The shamans questioned us and did not believe, saying that the Khyber Serpent speaks only to them, but I know that the appearance was a sign of its favor. And so we came here with our warriors. If the others had listened, you would be dead by now.”

Nameless favors the bard with a contemptuous sneer. “Obviously he’s a dupe for whoever was poking around here last night. I doubt his Flaming Serpents are hairy, wet and leave bootmarks. Offhand I’d guess that it was Desro’s acquaintances. They’re easily good enough with disguises and illusions to fool a sucker like this joker. Plus they’d likely know about the dragonshard we got off Desro and how to use it to track us. Finally, the ‘claws on the stone’ fit in too well with the wet hair for it to be a coincidence.

Let’s get going. I’ve no desire to waste my time fighting with a bunch of duped proxies. We can always come back and wipe them out later if they keep bothering us.”

Gurr’khan chuckles a little grimly. “I’d bet a fair amount that you’re right on most, if not all, of those counts. And moving on is a good idea. Saala will be expecting us.” 

He jerks a thumb at the bard, who’s listening with a slightly confused expression. “What do you want to do with this? Could send him back with a warning not to bother us again, but I don’t know how well that would work. Anyway, he attacked your group and almost killed some of you, so it’s up to you to decide what to do. I really don’t care.”

Nameless says, “We’ll leave him here tied up with a note, nailed to his forehead, explaining how he got used, by whom, and how his stupidity got his comrades killed for their foolishness in believing him. If you can send a copy via an animal to his village as well, that would be good. I want them to know where to find this idiot so they can mock and humiliate him as he deserves. Death is too easy for someone like him. Make sure they listen to their shamans next time.

We’ll leave the hunter’s blade and include the location of the hunters’ bodies in the note as well. The rest of the stuff we’ll take; they forfeited them when they attacked us. Now how to get him to wait here peacefully? Gurr’khan, could you persuade an animal to sit here and eat his face if he tried to get out of the ropes?”

Gurr’khan is grinning so widely by the end of Nameless’s speech that his head threatens to come off. “You’re a strange man, Nameless, but I like the way you deal with problems.”

He looks around the area. “I can find an animal to keep an eye on him. Sending a message will be more complicated, and I don’t think we need to bother. Somebody or other will come looking for this bunch.” 

Gurr’khan points at a couple of low, but sturdy trees. “How about tying the idiot to one of those, but put him a little off the ground? I want to make sure he’s alive when found, and however friendly I make an animal, it might get peckish. Stick the corpses under the trees and stake them to the ground. And back up a little distance when I get back with an animal.”

With that, he walks down to a more watery, swampy area, casts a couple of spells, turns into a crocodile and slithers into the water. About half an hour later, he returns, accompanied by two more crocodiles. Gurr’khan leads them out of the water and to the corpses. The two crocodiles promptly grab a corpse and try to drag it away, but the stakes hold it in place. Gurr’khan growls something at them and they stop trying to pull away the corpse. They rip off some pieces instead, evidently having trouble because it’s still fresh meat.

Gurr’khan walks over to join the rest of the Angels and changes back into his normal form. “Those two will stay around for a while. Now let’s move before anyone gets here.”

The bard is left trussed up tightly to the tree, out of reach of the crocodiles. He persists in making dire (and fairly amusing) threats about the vengeance that his clan, the Khyber Serpent, the denizens of the swamp, etc. will extract from them. Finally, exasperated, Gurr’khan sticks a temporary gag in his mouth. “He’ll be able to work it loose soon enough,” he grunts, “But at least we don’t have to listen to his blithering.”

His judgement is correct, since by the time the bard manages to get rid of the gag, the Angels have wrapped up their camp and are preparing to leave, this time on one phantom steed and three phantom stags. The mounts canter down the hill and into the swamp, the angry shouts of the bard fading quickly behind them.

The area they are heading into seems to have slightly more large vegetation than the previous sections of the swamp that they have seen, but it is not enough to really slow down the magical mounts. One of the reasons for the increase in vegetation is that there is relatively more solid ground (or rather, more mud than water) to travel across or through, and since the mounts treat it like a paved highway, they set a very good pace. 

Gurr’khan estimates they are about an hour’s travel from Saala, and his judgement is accurate. Just over an hour later, they ride into the largest collection of trees they have seen in these parts, forming a large wood. As they enter and move through the trees, they note that it seems darker in there than it should be, the sunlight not penetrating between the trees as would be expected. Small wisps of smoke or mist drift through the air. It also seems quieter somehow, sound not traveling as well as it should.

A few minutes later, the group emerges suddenly onto the bank of a large, still pool, stretching over a thousand feet in length and perhaps half that in width. The waters are an inky black and mist-shrouded, making the opposite shore difficult to see. The sky seems very cloudy and much darker than it was when they rode into the trees only minutes ago. The trees come right down to the edge of the water, except for the long shallow bank the mounts emerged onto and a large low hill, bare of trees, which can be seen through the mist, looming over the water on the far shore.

About a hundred feet away is a small tent pitched near the water. Sitting outside the tent, facing each other, are two women. One is an old half-orc, short and stout, her long white hair tied in a braid. The other is an even older human, much thinner, with a surprisingly skeletal face, the skin pulled tight across her skull, which is covered with thinning hair. She has a ragged cloak wrapped around her, and the Angels feel there is something unusual about her posture, though they can’t say yet what it is. Both turn to look as the riders emerge from the forest, and then the half-orc rises to her feet.

She walks towards them, and Gurr’khan rides forward. “Saala,” he says, with a nod, and then dismounts.

She nods back and then looks up at the rest. “I am Saala Torrn. You are welcome.”_


----------



## Solarious

So... you taunted her with the realization that her symbiont works? Genius! 

I'm still waiting for Luna to royally screw with the Gatekeepers before she turns into a giant, morbidly obese, masochistic shifter though.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> So... you taunted her with the realization that her symbiont works? Genius!




Pretty much  

All I said at the end of the session was that she felt something strange and then realized what it was. Never said it was anything bad. She (and everyone else) just assumed it was. 

Mechanically, she has Fast Healing 1 from it under certain circumstances, primarily having the crap beat out of her. Of course, there might be some teensy-weensy other things going on in there, at least one of which should be noticed over the course of the next session.



> I'm still waiting for Luna to royally screw with the Gatekeepers before she turns into a giant, morbidly obese, masochistic shifter though.




We'll see what happens. I took a look at the Impure Prince PrC and she definitely does not want to actually take the PrC due to the wildshape loss and the slowed spellcasting. So I'm just going to add in some elements (mechaincal and/or flavor) from there and other places, and mostly just make up stuff as needed.

The meeting with Saala can potentially take the situation with the Shard in a lot of different, and very divergent, directions. I'm looking forward to next session, since until it happens I really have no clue where the campaign is going next.


----------



## Sidekick

Feed my hunger for more Shil!!!

What do we want MORE when do we want it?

MORE!!!!

again bumping for Justice (and furry shifter chicks)


----------



## shilsen

Ask and ye shall receive.

Here's the next bit that we've handled between sessions. Which, sadly, will continue for a bit, since we're not playing this weekend due to scheduling issues. So chances are that I'll have another update or two before the next actual game session to tide you over. Until then...

****************************************************************

Six dismounts and says quickly, “Hello, Saala, and your friend. I will be abrupt, as we have an active stalker following us using means we can’t identify. And we have dragonshard problems. The ones we have may have abilities we don’t know of and abilities we don’t want. Information about the key is why we were originally coming here, but other problems seem to be following us. Time is urgent, as our stalker is still about.”

Saala looks a little startled at the hurried speech from Six. Before she can respond, Nameless adds, “We should hold off discussing anything potentially ‘interesting’ until tomorrow morning. I have spells that can secure the area from scrying and other such spells, but I do not have them prepared now.”

Saala looks up at the cloudy sky and says, “It’s not even noon. I’d rather not waste time sitting around and waiting till tomorrow, especially in view of what you,” she nods at Six, “Just said. Considering how many of us there are here, hopefully we’d detect it if we were being spied on. Follow me.”

She leads the group to the tent, where the other woman looks up at you, though she continues to sit where she is. Saala says to you, “This is Thlie. Thlie, these are the people I told you about.” Now that you are closer, you can see that one side of Thlie’s face is permanently twisted downwards, and a thin line of spittle leaks out as she nods in your direction. The hands that hold the blanket wrapped around her seem gnarled and twisted. And there’s definitely something very strange about her eyes. Though she looks at you, they seem unfocused somehow.

Saala enters the tent and returns with a couple more mats, which she unrolls and says, “Sit.” She does so too, and says, “Tell me about this stalker.”

Gurr’khan explains what has transpired, including the details of the River Snake attack. Saala listens intently. Thlie does so at times, at others staring off into the distance or muttering under her breath to herself. More drool drips onto her legs, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care, though Saala stops once to wipe it away with a cloth.

After Gurr’khan covers the subject of the stalker(s), Saala says, “And now, what of this Key that I have heard so much of? More precisely, how can I help you with it? Do you come purely for knowledge, or do you wish me to try and rid you of it? I believe it has been somewhat of a burden to you.”

Nameless nods. “I wish to keep it safe. Unfortunately, it is not safe with us, since we seem to attract trouble, like a corpse attracts maggots. Since we are tied to it, we also can not simply leave it somewhere it would be safe either. Given the feelings of some of my companions, retaining that attachment is not a long term option either. So, yes – we would be rid of it and the Gatekeepers are the only ones we can all agree to trust with it.”

Saala says, “As you can guess, I appreciate your choice. From what I have heard of the Key, it is far too dangerous to risk. Gurr’khan has related to me all that you have told him, but I will have more questions about it for you. Before that, however, may I see this Key?”

When Nameless hands Saala the Key, she takes it silently, and a trifle reverently. She looks at it for a long time, turning it back and forth in her hands, and then finally turns to Thlie. The older woman has been staring off across the pool, and it takes a little prodding to gain her attention. Once Saala has it, she hands Thlie the Key, and asks, “Is this one of them?”

Thlie’s somewhat vacant eyes focus on the item, and she strokes it softly. Then she lifts it to her face and closes her eyes, before sniffing it from end to end. The impression the watchers get is of a cat trying to recognize a long unfamiliar scent. Then she opens her eyes and speaks.

“Yes. It is one of them. To open the gate that cannot be opened. To seal the portal that cannot be sealed.” Thlie seems about to say something else, but then breaks off into inaudible mumbles.

Saala carefully takes back the Key from her, places it on her own lap, and covers it with a fold of her blanket. Looking at the quizzical expressions on the Angels’s faces as well as Gurr’khan’s, she says, “Thlie knows about certain things that many don’t. I will tell you more about that – and her – later. But before that, I would like to hear everything that you can tell me about this.”  

While Saala is speaking, Gareth sits silently, watching and listening. Then he focuses on his Flame-granted abilities and attempts to _detect thoughts_.

As Gareth concentrates, though there is no external manifestation, he first senses the stream of Saala’s and Thlie’s thoughts, and then the strength of their flow. He quickly realizes that both of them are very intelligent, more so than any of the people in his group except, of course, for Nameless.

Gareth focuses further, concentrating on Saala. He senses the surface of her thoughts, but as his consciousness attempts to enter into them, he finds himself blocked by the barrier of her will. Realizing that Saala will feel the attempt as soon as she successfully resists it, he instantly drops his focus.

Sure enough, Saala sits up a little straighter and looks around the area. Then she says, “One moment,” and closes her eyes. After a few seconds, she opens them and looks keenly around the group. “Somebody just attempted to use a spell or magical effect on me.”

Saala has to stop and gesture for Gurr’khan, who grunts and begins to rise, to keep his seat, and then she continues. “It was one not used by druids, called _detect thoughts_. There is nobody else within range of us. Hence, I am presuming it was one of you. I would appreciate it if whoever used it admitted to doing so and explained why he did so.” Her tone remains as calm as it has been ever since she began speaking to the group, but there’s the lightest sense of steel in it.

Speaking up for the first time since they have met, Gareth says, “I was the one who performed it. I am wary about new people, and I am especially wary about new people when concerning myself with powerful magic. If you are offended, then please realize none was meant, and I do this for the safety of the group as well as the world.”

Nameless says dryly, “Well, at least we can be sure we have the real Gareth now.”

Then he addresses Saala and Thlie. “Please forgive him. For some reason he thinks nobody will notice when he’s doing that sort of thing. Or that it will give him some sort of useful information, despite his experiences to the contrary.”

He then launches into a ribald version of the time Gareth was using _detect evil_ in the Daask bar, tossing out a couple of innuendoes about Gareth scoping out the barmaids.

Gareth looks at Nameless calmly. “I do not need your excuses, or apologies for my actions. I stand by them, and would do them again. And I would expect more from a wizard who is attempting to make a valid comparison of _detect evil_ and _detect thoughts_. Not to forget, a lot of people don't notice when I am doing that sort of thing.”

Six says, “Well, the ones that don’t notice tend to be harmless. The ones that do generally can cause you a world of hurt.”

Saala watches the exchange between the Angels and then looks at Gurr’khan with an eloquently raised eyebrow. Gurr’khan just grunts and says succinctly, “Adventurers!”

Saala grins widely at the comment and then turns back to Gareth. “I understand your caution, though it seems a little late, considering you’ve traveled all this way to speak to me about this,” she taps the shard in her lap. “But I’m not offended – for now. Don’t do it again.”

“That, however,” she continues, “Gives me a little excuse for some rudeness of my own. If you will bear with me…”

She turns back to Gurr’khan and says, “You have had some time with my guests. What do you think of them?”

Gurr’khan grunts again, as seems to be his custom when about to speak, and says, “First, the good stuff. Surr’kal, whom I trust, says they’re quite reliable. I’ve been in two fights with them so far, and they’re very effective. Perhaps the most powerful group of their size I’ve fought beside, and I’ve seen some fairly strong druids in their element, as you know. Apparently, though this is mostly hearsay, they’ve taken some serious risks to protect the Key. In the time I’ve been with them, unless everyone here is faking really well, and I don’t think some of them could act worth a damn,” (his eyes flicker to Korm and Luna as he says this, and then back to Saala) “They did seem quite genuinely concerned about keeping it safe.”

Gurr’khan takes a deep breath and continues. “Now the bad. They’re kinda mental. They fight with each other all the time, and again, hearsay tells me they get into fights all the time. From some things I’ve heard and a little I saw with the River Snakes, they should be dead by rights, but somehow manage to survive.” He grunts again. “Which, I guess is a good thing. Surr’kal, in fact, said that they got some stupid prophecy telling them they’re special and that they’re meant to do great things and that they were meant to find the Key. You know I don’t give a damn about prophecies, but even if it’s right, I’m not sure a group fated for great things should be guarding that.”

He indicates the Key and then pauses, as if thinking of something, and then says quickly, “Also, Luna here’s the most mental. She’s got a symbiont attached to her arm and her tongue, if you didn’t notice. That guy,” (he indicates Six) “Is carrying a bloody floating eye in his bag too, but Luna apparently thinks daelkyr creations are fashion accessories. Just that’s a good enough reason to make sure the Key is some distance from them.” 

Gurr’khan ends and gazes around the group with no trace of embarrassment. “She asked what I thought.”

The Angels notice that Saala’s lips twitch with apparent amusement, but she hides it masterfully when Gurr’khan looks back at her. She looks at Luna and asks, “Symbionts? That is a little unusual for a druid.” Her eyes roam over the group. “What do you think of her choice?”

Luna breaks in before any of the others can reply, wearing what some of the Angels now call the ‘flame strike expression.’  “You might not have to worry about me wearing symbionts. I had no idea that they could make me fat! Now, frankly, I have to rethink the whole thing!
I was just trying to fight fire with fire!”

“And anyone who has been fighting these disgusting mutant creatures for as long as Gurr’khan should know that sometimes one must sometimes attempt more creative means to fight them and emerge victorious! And defeating them is... well ... actually rather important! So whatever modes you employ to do so must in the end be more than justified!”

So far, she has been ostensibly addressing Saala, but now she turns to face Gurr’khan. “And frankly, I am not mental in the least! I am a very keen and observant strategist! And at some point, it must be plain to any thinking person that there is no point chatting up the enemy any more, and you just need to do what you came to do! And while I am not chatty, I am focused and results oriented.  And while we may not always enjoy working as a team ... we never leave anyone behind!  Even the two most antagonistic of our group have gone to hell and back to pull the other out of the fire. I don’t know many others who can actually say that and mean it.”  

“As for the shard ... by all means take the bloody thing! I can’t be tied to some stupid hunk of rock that gives me a headache if I leave it alone for 20 minutes, for goodness sake! I’d rather destroy it than live like this for another minute!!”  

“So ... there! Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Gurr’khan.” Luna points at Gurr’khan’s abdomen, where she knows the strange tentacular growths are. “And you would be a much happier fellow if you made your tragedy a weapon against those who inflicted it! Just a thought!”

With that, Luna winds down abruptly. There’s complete silence, for a moment. Even Thlie, who had been murmuring to herself when Luna started, is looking at her intently now. 

Gurr’khan, whose mouth is sagging slightly open, shuts it with a snap and glares at Luna for a moment. He grunts loudly in preparation for an angry response, but is cut off by a loud peal of laughter. Thlie rocks back and forth, giggling with amusement. She points at Luna and chortles, “She’s funny! I like her!” before breaking into another fit of giggles.

Gurr’khan now turns to glare at her, and his mood evidently isn’t helped when Saala too adds a loud chuckle, accompanied by a broad grin. “A woman of strong opinions, I see. I like that. I’d warn you about your choices, but you know what you are getting into, and each of us must choose our own path. Even if,” she adds with another chuckle, “It apparently leads to weight issues. That is _not_ a risk I normally think of when I think of dangers associated with symbionts.”

She turns to address the entire group and then pauses, as if she just thought of something. Turning back to Luna, Saala says, “In the interests of honesty, I should tell you that you are not the first to take that road. Over the centuries, some of those who study and battle the daelkyr and their minions have attempted to use their tools, such as symbionts, against them. That, of course, is a risky road, and it takes people of strong will and constitution to do it.” Saala’s eyes flicker sideways at Gurr’khan for a split second, and she adds, “There have even been a very few Gatekeepers who have walked that path.”

“By the moons!” breaks in Gurr’khan, with an irritated growl, “Do you have to encourage her, Saala? Why not just slap a stormstalk on her head and be done with it?”

Another chortle from Thlie interrupts. “He’s funny too!”

Korm interjects with a laugh, “Luna's definitely mental. I warned her about the symbionts’ dangers and tried to talk her out of it, but it was like trying to wrestle a mountain. Or debate philosophy with a bear. An impatient, hungry bear. An impatient, hungry bear with the ability to call fire from the sky and shoot angry bees from its mouth.”

“But Luna is a strong warrior and a druid of good character. I don't fault her motivations.” Korm motions with his head to the rest of the Angels. “Besides, they're all barmy too. We work well together.”

Saala chuckles and says, “Thank you, Korm’akhan. I respect your opinions, not just as a Gatekeeper, but because I know something of your reputation.”

She waves a hand dismissively at a still irritated Gurr’khan. “If needed, Luna and I can discuss the subject further later. But back to the question of the Key. Despite Gurr’khan’s reservations, at least he vouches for the efforts you have made to keep it safe, which I appreciate.” She pauses and then turns to Nameless.

“I do have a question for you. I believe you were the one person able to use the Key at various times. Why is that? Please, be honest. I need to know everything that I can about this matter.”


----------



## shilsen

We played yesterday and a few interesting developments occurred. I'll have an update up in a day or two.

And Luna, by the way, is now shedding. Life's tough when you're messing with symbionts


----------



## Solarious

.....

*HAVE MY BABIES!!!*

.....

I'm sorry, did I say something? Why are you all looking at me like that?  Ah! Why is Luna shedding all over me? GET OFF ME WOMAN! *phwaps the blubberbutt with a rolled up Khoranberg Chronicle* YOUR SIDEBURNS _ITCH_!!!


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> *HAVE MY BABIES!!!*
> 
> .....
> 
> I'm sorry, did I say something? Why are you all looking at me like that?






As promised...

*********************************************************************
Nameless replies, “I am not entirely certain why. It could be as simple as I was the first one to touch it.”

“Then again, there are many things I do not fully understand about myself. I am called Nameless, but that is really a description not a name. Whatever it is that names things is absent in me. Most of my past is also veiled from me as well and there is much to indicate that I am not now what I once was or may have been.”

“My mentor in the arcane has a spell that can detect aberrations and for some reason I detect as an aberration to this spell. Several of the creatures in Yarkuun Draal seemed to respond to me as if I were a Daelkyr, and a dream that I had, after we defeated and sealed a Daelkyr using the Key, seemed to indicate that I have in some way been touched by them. Perhaps that has something to do with it as well.”

“Perhaps it is Edgar?” he adds, showing his rock to Saala, “An affinity with one rock could lead to an affinity with others.”

Saala looks a little puzzled. “Edgar?” She begins to turn to Gurr’khan for explanation, when Thlie, who has once again been paying attention, places a twisted hand on her shoulder. 

When Saala turns to her, Thlie says nothing. Instead, she slowly levers herself off the ground and hobbles towards Nameless. As she rises and moves, everyone watching can see that both of her legs are twisted and deformed, skin pushed out of place by misshapen bones.

Reaching Nameless, she bends slowly to look into his eyes. Nameless finds himself gazing into two cloudy gray eyes, each of them strangely vacant, with a tiny pinprick of blackness at the center of each. It takes a second or two to realize what else is distinctive about them. As far as Nameless can judge, the eyes are completely and utterly insane.

Her actions, however, are not. Or at least not very much. Thlie leans closer and sniffs at Nameless. Her own breath is somewhat rank and slightly tart. After a series of long sniffs, she straightens up and then hobbles back to her mat, before subsiding onto it. She looks at Saala, who has been waiting silently, and says solemnly, “It doesn’t matter. It’s all in his head. And he cannot use it again. He has too much knowledge now.” She pauses and then adds, “You can trust him. All of them.” There is another pause, and then the demeanor cracks as she giggles loudly. “And they’re all mental. Hee hee!”

Saala looks quizzically at her friend for a few seconds, and then says, “It’s too late for me to stop trusting you, though I’m not going to pretend I know what that means.”

She turns back to Nameless. “You sound honest enough, though I get the feeling you’re not sharing something, but if Thlie says I should trust you, I will. But you still have to answer my original question.” She glances at Gareth, whose attempt to _detect thoughts_ had interrupted the request. “Tell me everything you can about the Key.” 

The Angels spend the better part of the next two hours going over every detail they can of their association with the Key and all the events that had the least connection with it. Saala asks questions continuously, revisiting every detail that they bring up. Thlie switches between paying rapt attention to the story and completely ignoring both it and their presence.

When they are finally done, and Saala has asked the last of her questions, she says, “Well, you’ve certainly had an interesting time of things. And for your efforts I thank you.” She falls silent, lowering her head in thought. After a few seconds, she looks up. “I think now it’s time for me – us – to return the favor and tell you what we know. Please remember that what I’m about to tell you now absolutely cannot be revealed to anyone.” 

Saala waits for the Angels to all assent and then rises to her feet. She says, “Thlie – you can go ahead. We’ll join you soon.” Thlie nods, rises awkwardly, and hobbles toward the pool. At the water’s edge she turns, gives the group a lopsided smile, and simply falls in. There are a series of ripples and she disappears below the dark surface.

Saala says, “Please prepare for a swim. If you can change to a form or use magic that will help, please do so. Can any of you breathe underwater?” Since Nameless is the only one who cannot do so, she casts a _water breathing_ spell on him.

Then she turns to Gurr’khan, who has been watching with the same curiosity as the Angels, and says, “Follow behind me.” To Six she says, “You can ride me.” With that, Saala transforms into a large crocodile, followed moments later by Gurr’khan and Luna. She heads for the water, carrying Six, followed by the other two druids, with Gareth on Luna’s back, Korm having grown gills and webbing between his fingers to swim alongside, and Nameless availing of a _fly_ spell to help him move through the water.

As the cold waters of the lake close over them, the Angels find that some light filters through the dark water, though dimly. Saala heads directly across the lake, staying only a few feet below the surface. When about halfway across, she descends quickly to a depth of about fifty feet, and continues across the lake.

Within seconds, she reaches the far bank, which seems to descend unusually precipitously from the water’s edge. Gaping in the bank ahead of her is a huge tunnel, over twenty feet across. Saala heads into it, the others following as she swims up the steep slope of the tunnel. The tunnel seems to be natural in origin, but the smoothness of its sides and consistent size makes it clear that it has been worked on too.

Six, riding on her broad back, sees the flickering of torchlight through the water above, seconds before they break through the surface. When they do, Six finds himself near the edge of a pool in the middle of a dark cavern, illuminated only by two _everburning torch_es embedded in the roughly semicircular walls. These walls seem to be made of thickly packed earth, with some stone near the base, rising to a curved ceiling some thirty feet above. A large open doorway in the horizontal wall that makes up the base of the semicircle reveals an even larger chamber, illuminated by many more torches.

Six only notices all of these details a little later, since the first things that draw his attention are the two huge nostrils, each nearly the size of his head, which are no more than three feet from his face when Saala comes to a stop on the bank of the pool. Beneath the huge nostrils is a twisted mouth, half-open to reveal rows of proportionately large teeth. 

As Six reflexively half-leaps, half-stumbles off Saala’s back, he looks up past the teeth and the nostrils, along the long snout to the bony cheekbones, above which glow two amber eyes, set deep into sockets at the base of two forward-curving horns, all of which combine to form the almost skeletal face of the huge black dragon watching him.

Saala, changing quickly back to her own form, chuckles as she notes the expressions in the faces of the people emerging from the pool behind her, and then says, “Don’t worry. This is Thlie.” The comment is instantly followed by all of the Angels hurriedly turning and calling to the crocodile Luna, “DON’T _flame strike_ her!”

Luna, once she has reached the bank and changed back, looks at them disgustedly. “I wasn’t going to!” 

Saala laughs. “Yes, that would be a bad idea. Let me re-introduce you to Thlielaxara, direct descendant of Vvaraak, the Scaled Apostate.”

As the others study the dragon, they can see that her eyes retain the somewhat vacant stare that Thlie had in her human form, and her four limbs are twisted and deformed too. Even her mouth is twisted, causing acidic drool to drip out, which the Angels quickly back up to avoid.

“Thlie,” says Saala, “Maybe you should switch forms. It’ll be more comfortable.” While Thlie nods and complies, Saala leads the group into the next chamber. As they follow, she says, “This is where Thlie usually lives. We’re actually inside that hill you saw from the opposite side of the lake.”

This chamber seems to be a mixture of bedroom, sitting room and museum. The central area is empty, with a large indented alcove in one side, strewn with rushes to make a rough bed, albeit one much too small for the dragon’s natural form. Near it is a pile of woven mats, which Saala fetches and distributes in a large circle. There is a doorway in the far wall, a thick curtain hanging down over it. The chamber is lit by over a dozen _everburning torch_es in the walls. Their light glitters off the surface of scores of items that have been embedded into the walls of the chamber. These include Eberron dragonshards of various sizes, various skulls (most from animals, but with a couple of humanoid skulls and a few that Nameless and Korm recognize as belonging to aberrations), a few pieces of armor and weapons, a giant arm holding a giant-sized longsword, a single large glowing orb that the Angels recognize as a conductor stone from the lightning rail, a complicated apparatus set into an alcove of its own (which Nameless identifies as an _orrery of the planes_) and other odd knick-knacks. 

As they are sitting down, Six (already having produced a sketchpad to note what he has seen of Thlielaxara’s true form) whispers to Nameless, “Who’s Vvaraak?”

“She’s the dragon who taught Druidism to the Gatekeepers, millennia ago.”  

Saala, having heard the question and answer, adds, “Yes. Nameless is well-informed. Vvaraak is the one who brought Druidism to Khorvaire and taught the orcs, who became the first Gatekeepers. Sixteen thousand years ago. Thlielaxara came to the Marches three hundred years ago as a young dragon, to follow in the footsteps of her ancestor, to study what is known as the Draconic Prophecy, and to see the results of Vvaraak’s teachings. She chose to live near the Pond of Shadows, drinking from its waters to gain great prophetic powers, but,” Saala gazes a little sadly at Thlie, “Steadily becoming insane.”

Thlie, now back in human form and sitting near Saala, nods and smiles at the comment. “Yes, Saala is right. I’m quite mad.” She giggles.

“Well, at least she knows it,” mutters Luna, before Saala continues. “Despite her … situation, Thlie remained a friend of the Gatekeepers, and we kept her secret. A hundred years ago, she saved a group of Gatekeepers, including the then leader, from a small army of aberrations from Khyber and a tribe that worshipped the Dragon Below. She was slain in the battle. A grateful Gatekeeper _reincarnate_d her, but her mental fracturing manifested in her shape, and though she was brought back as a dragon, she came back with some physical issues. Nevertheless, Thlie is incredibly well-informed and the best source I know for information about the past, especially anything associated with the dragons, as the Key is.”

Six interrupts politely. “Do you know the beholder Ek’aankh?”

Saala looks a little surprised at the apparently disconnected question. “Yes. That is the name of a legendary monster that terrorized the Shadow Marches. Why?”

“Well, we met him. And had a nice chat. I thought of him since he seemed to know a lot about the past too.”

“Yes,” corroborates Korm. “They did. But I have to admit I didn’t get to, since I was a statue at the time.”

“I see,” says Saala slowly, with a bemused expression that clearly says she doesn’t, “You … chatted … with Ek’aankh. While Korm was a statue.” Gurr’khan just rolls his eyes, not to indicate disbelief so much as resignation to the strange things that seem to have happened to the Angels.

Nameless adds, “I think he’s mellowed a fair bit.” Then he grins. “But you don’t want to wake him suddenly. We gather that he’s crotchety when woken up.”

Six goes on to relate some of what happened. Saala listens and finally says, “Interesting, as seems to be the case with everything in your collective past. Of course, it’s not like he’s likely to be an easy source. Especially not about the Key.  But I’ll let Thlie explain about it.”

 Turning to Thlie, who has currently lost interest and is mumbling to herself, Saala explains for a little while that she should tell the ‘nice people’ what she told Saala about the Key. Thlie seems to focus, and after a little bit more prodding, turns to the group.

Her explanation takes longer than it normally should, simply because Saala has to bring her back to the point every once in a while. Eventually, Thlie explains that the three progenitor wyrms created (or found) the Prophecy before the creation of the world. But it was forgotten, while demons overran the world in the Age of Demons, ten million years ago. Eventually, the dragons rediscovered the Prophecy and, with other draconic species like the couatls, fought the demons. A hundred thousand years ago, the couatls sacrificed most of their number to first create the Silver Flame and bind the most powerful Demon Lords in Khyber. Over time, some of the demon lords would try to escape, and some of the dragons feared that they would not be permanently bound. To attempt to keep them so, they made numerous inventions and discoveries.

First the dragons invented the dimensional seals, which not only could hold shut manifest zones but, in sufficient numbers, would permanently separate a plane from Eberron (which is what Vvaraak taught the orcs to do for Xoriat). Though immune to most physical and magical damage, seals would leak over time, and they could be destroyed if enough power was brought to bear. Some dragons felt that relying on only the seals was too risky and it is they who built the first of the Keys. Using a Key, one could lock a seal (or an individually bound fiend) so tightly that there was no chance of escape. But in order to have this power, they had to be made able to unlock the seals too. Either ability needed to work through living hosts, who would bind themselves to each Key. As long as the bond remained, the Key would hold the given seal in place. The bond could be passed on from guardian to guardian, so that the Key would always hold. Certain Keys would work differently from others with regard to the relationship with a guardian, and this was especially true in conjunction with non-draconic guardians, since the Keys bonded better to their draconic creators. Keys were built to be usable by true dragons and those trained by them, but as part of their nature, could also be used by those they were meant to bind, like the rakshasas or the daelkyr. While a number of Keys were originally made, most are still in Argonessen. Only a few were actually brought to Khorvaire, usually by dragons who are interested in the Prophecy, and especially those who wish to help the younger races. There are perhaps, Thlie estimates, only a dozen or so Keys in Khorvaire, all probably occupied secretly to hold dimensional seals in place or perhaps waiting to seal one that is weakened. Few non-dragons know of their existence.

Once Thlie has completed relating the details, Saala adds, “Evidently two such Keys were taken to the island near Xen’drik you went to. Your act of bonding with the one evidently created one with the second. Incidentally, since the first Key was used by all of you to re-seal a daelkyr that had escaped, which is something that I’m fairly sure has never happened, the original bond is gone and that seal is as permanent as can be.”

“Are you sure that’s never happened? Considering that nobody knows where the other Keys are, something similar could have happened sometime, right?” asks Six.

Saala shakes her head. “If a daelkyr, and even more a rakshasa rajah, ever escaped, we’d know about it. And so would all of Khorvaire.”

Turning to address the group, Saala continues, “Now you know as much as I do. Due to Thlie’s knowledge and nature, she can actually use the Key. There are a couple of options for you. We could remove your bond to it and….”

“That’s it!” says Luna, “We don’t need any other choices!”

The others laugh but add that she’s probably right. Saala smiles too. “I thought you’d go for that. The other option would be for you to be permanent guardians of the Key.”

That option is quickly vetoed, especially by Luna, and Saala says, “Very well. This will hurt and weaken you. I will try to help as much as possible. If any of you have _lesser restoration_ or similar spells ready or can prepare them, do so. Give me a few minutes.”

She walks over to the far side of the chamber and sits down to meditate. Luna watches her with a big grin on her face. “We’re finally going to get rid of that damn shard. Finally!”

While the Angels are waiting for Saala and talking amongst themselves and to Gurr’khan, Thlie suddenly points at Gareth. “What is that?”

Surprised, Gareth asks, “What?”

“That sword.”

“Kizmet.”

“Can I see it?”

Gareth slowly unsheathes the sword. As he grasps the hilt, he feels a wave of wariness, tinged with slight curiosity. After a second of hesitation, he hands the sword to the dragon as old woman.

Thlie takes the sword and, in what seems to be her customary method dealing with anything, slowly sniffs her way all along the blade. Then she nods and hands it back. “Fiend blade.”

“I beg your pardon? You know what this is?”

“Yes. It is a fiend blade.”

Nameless chuckles. “She’s going to tell you there’s a fiend bound inside it.”

Gareth throws him an irritated look, but his attention is wholly on Thlie. “Can you tell me anything about it? Are there more like it?”

“Yes,” says Thlie, slowly beginning to rock back and forth as she speaks, which sends little flecks of drool spilling down her cheek. “My people first made them. They are made to especially hurt fiends. Some can weaken them. Others prevent the use of some of their abilities, for a time. Fiend blades bind to a certain user over time and develop power as the wielder does. As time goes by, they …..” She stops as a fit of coughing takes her.

Gareth waits patiently, until Thlie stops coughing. When she does, Thlie sniffs, looks up the ceiling and then begins to mumble to herself. When it becomes clear she is no longer interested in or focused on the subject, Gareth says, “Excuse me – can you tell me more about the sword?”

Thlie pauses in her muttering, looks at him curiously, and then says, “You’re pretty!”

A couple of the others guffaw at the unexpected comment, while Gareth simply tries to avoid looking exasperated and ignores the momentary thrill of amusement he feels from the sword. Again, he says, as politely as he can, “Could you please tell me more about the sword? I would greatly appreciate it.”

Thlie nods. “Yes,” she says with finality, “You’re _very_ pretty.”

Luna, still grinning broadly, says, “I don’t think she’s that interested in the sword any more, Gareth.”

As she speaks, Luna is idly scratching her forearm, and Six notices a patch of hair come off under her nails and fall off, leaving a bare patch of skin. “Luna,” he says, pointing at it, “I think you’re losing hair.”

“What?” asks the shifter, before she looks down at the spot. Her eyes go wide and she repeats herself in a yell, “WHAT?!”

“You’re going bald now?” asks Gareth, with a wide grin.

“That’s not ing funny!” snarls Luna, before turning to snatch up the patch of fur and rub the bare area of skin, about two inches across, which is completely smooth.

“Actually, it’s quite funny,” mutters Korm, under his breath.

Gurr’khan grunts, “I told you about those symbionts,” pointing at the band wrapped around Luna’s forearm only a few inches from the bare patch.

Luna shoots him a glare. “Yes, you’re a bloody genius, aren’t you?” She looks back down at the hair and the skin, before raising both hands above her head and screaming her frustration. The scream drowns out the sound of her companions, only partly in humor, grabbing at their heads and saying, “No _flame strike_s please!”

Luna slams her fists into the ground beside her. “This is too much! Now I’m fat AND going bald?! A tentacle or two I could have borne, but this … is … too … much!!”

She is reaching down to rip the symbionts off her body when she feels a hand on her shoulder. “What’s going on?” asks Saala, whom nobody has noticed walking over to join them.

“Luna’s having a bad hair day,” says Nameless, and then quickly scrambles backward as the angry shifter reaches for him.

“Yes,” says Saala mildly, “I heard a bit of it. And something about the sword. Still, we should deal with the Key, should we not?”

“Yes,” growls Luna. “At least let’s get that off our backs!”


----------



## Sidekick

YAY. Shil this is nice. A elder and insane dragon, a fat balding shifter. A paladin with a sword that has bound a demon. And a wizard who refuses to acknowledge his past that he has rediscovered.

I likes this group yes I does…

Please Sir, may I have some more?


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> YAY. Shil this is nice. A elder and insane dragon




After the session, I realized that the only two dragons the group has explicitly met happen to be insane. Not sure what that means, if anything.



> , a fat balding shifter. A paladin with a sword that has bound a demon. And a wizard who refuses to acknowledge his past that he has rediscovered.
> 
> I likes this group yes I does…




When the most 'normal' person in the group is a living construct, you know you're onto a very interesting bunch.



> Please Sir, may I have some more?




I've been busy with student conferences (oh joy!) all week and have more tomorrow, but I'll be working on the next writeup this evening. Let's just say a couple of interesting changes are coming.


----------



## Solarious

Dragons, and old ones in particular, are at least able to take more mental abuse than others. Then again, insane, old dragons are also capable of causing a great deal of... trouble.  We proved that already though, didn't we? 

Too bad Luna isn't taking symbionts... hmn... how should I put this? Kindly?  I wanted to see how badly she could screw over Gurr'khan.  Well, at least I'll get to see how badly you can screw over the Angels. That's something I can count on at least.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Dragons, and old ones in particular, are at least able to take more mental abuse than others. Then again, insane, old dragons are also capable of causing a great deal of... trouble.  We proved that already though, didn't we?




Just a teensy bit 



> Too bad Luna isn't taking symbionts... hmn... how should I put this? Kindly?  I wanted to see how badly she could screw over Gurr'khan.  Well, at least I'll get to see how badly you can screw over the Angels. That's something I can count on at least.




I'll try to please. What happens by the end of the session may count, but I'll leave the decision up to you. I did get some written up today, so I thought I'd just go ahead and post it, rather than waiting till tomorrow to add more.

I presume you won't complain 


*********************************************************************
“Very well,” says Saala. She walks over to Thlie, producing the Key from within her robes, and squats down next to her. After quietly speaking to the shapechanged dragon for a couple of minutes, she hands the Key over. Thlie takes it in both of her twisted hands and holds it awkwardly in front of her chest.

“Hold on!” says Nameless, “If this is anything like what happened when I transferred it from Corven to Korm, this would be a really good time to cast a _bear’s endurance_ on everyone.”

“That’s a good idea,” says Saala. “I cannot help, since I have prepared as many spells as I can to remove the damage that you will suffer.”

With the aid of Gurr’khan, all of the Angels soon have a _bear’s endurance_ protecting them. Saala waits until they are done and then says, “So, who will be the firs…”

“Me!” says Luna decisively, before the Gatekeeper can finish.

Saala smiles gently. “I thought that might be the case.” She walks over to sit next to Thlie and says, “All right, Thlie – go ahead.”

Thlie closes her eyes and concentrates. Immediately, a thick beam of amber light shoots from the Key and hits Luna in the middle of her chest. The shifter grunts as she feels it slowly draining her vitality. An uncomfortable burning sensation begins where the beam hit, right where the blue tattoo indicating the link to the Key is.

A couple of seconds later, the beam splits into two, one half shooting off to strike Gurr’khan in his chest. “Hey!” says the alarmed Gatekeeper, adding worriedly, “Saala?”

Saala quickly turns to Thlie. “Try to absorb it! Like you said you could!”

Thlie, with eyes still shut, frowns with concentration, and the second beam visibly retracts from Gurr’khan’s chest and then hits Thlie instead. A second after it does so, it begins to pulse, as does the one attached to Luna. The druid goes pale, as she feels her vitality flow away at an alarming rate. Thlie apparently feels a similar effect, though it is either not as strong or she is simply more stoical, from the expression on her face.

The beams suddenly wink off. Luna gasps in relief and then quickly checks under her shirt. “It’s gone!” she says, relief drowning out weakness in her voice. “There’s just a large bruise,” she says, as she touches it, quickly adding, “Ow! A large painful bruise.” She quickly casts a _lesser restoration_ to recover some of her lost vitality.

Saala is doing the same to Thlie, who seems less affected*, and thanking her. “Will she be able to continue?” asks Nameless.

“Yes,” replies Saala, as she continues to cast spells. “It’s better to do this all at once.”

After Thlie is fully healed, Saala asks who the next person is to volunteer. One by one, the rest of the Angels go through the same process that Luna did. Each is left with a red, painful bruise, but their links to the Key are gone. The process almost kills a couple of them**, Nameless’s suggestion about preparatory _bear’s endurance_s being all that keeps them alive. 

With a series of _lesser restoration_s being cast, they are quickly out of danger, but when Saala and everyone else runs out, everyone involved is far from healthy. Thlie, taking damage every time, looks especially weak. As Saala carefully takes the Key from her hands, she sags and almost collapses. Saala helps her to her feet and leads her to the sleeping area, where Thlie lies down. 

After covering her with a blanket, Saala returns and joins the others. “Well – that went about as well as it could. Let’s return to my camp.”

Once back there, Saala spends a little time talking to the group. The bruises that they have remain red and painful, but gradually fade over the course of an hour. One thing that the Angels notice is that while they no longer have the awareness of the Key that they did earlier, there is a lingering awareness. They are aware of the direction that the Key is from them, though not of its distance or location. Saala says that, based on what Thlie has told her, they will slowly lose this awareness, though it will take time. 

“I hope you’re right,” says Luna. “I want to be completely done with that thing.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” says Saala. “You can spend the night here.” After a moment’s thought, she asks, “Now that you are free of the Key, is there anything particular you need to do? I was thinking that there might be a couple of places where people of your varied skills could be helpful to the Gatekeepers. Naturally, since you are adventurers, I would find a way to make it worthwhile for you. Is that something you might be interested in?”

“We would certainly consider it,” says Nameless. “There’s nothing essential that we need to do next.”

The others agree, Luna doing so a little reluctantly, and Saala thanks them for agreeing to consider the proposition. “I will head back to Thlie now,” she says. “I need to speak to her about some of the things I’m considering. We’ll discuss this further in the morning.”

As she is about the leave, Nameless says, “Don’t forget what I said about the people who we think have been tracking us and are probably after the Key.”

“Yes. Thank you for reminding me.” With that, Saala disappears back into the lake.

After she leaves, the Angels and Gurr’khan spend time getting ready for the night. Nameless, Six and Gareth debate whether the people following them might have some interest other than the Key. Nameless is quite sure that’s what they are after, pointing out that they not only are the ones who killed Arrok and Dala, who really had no importance besides their connection with the finding of the Key, but they removed Arrok’s tattoo.

As the discussion is winding down, Nameless receives a _sending_ from Trillia, who says, “Just checking on you. Everything fine here. Stuffed mind flayer done two days early. Currently standing in my foyer. Any idea when you will be back?”

Nameless responds, “We are fine. Met Gatekeepers. Successfully removed link to Key today. Not sure about return yet. Keep in touch.” After a second’s pause, realizing he can still relay a bit more, he adds, “Luna getting fat and losing hair.”

Luna gives him a dirty look and says, “I used my _lesser restoration_s, you know. I have a _flame strike_ left!”

The others laugh at Nameless’s comment, and his mention of the preserved mind flayer causes further amusement.

After some more talking the group eventually settles in for the night, Nameless making sure to put up a _private sanctum_ spell to protect them from _scrying_ and more mundane spying.

***
The next morning, shortly after the Angels awake, they are joined by Saala. She says that Thlie is better and the two of them have discussed many things during the night, especially regarding a couple of the propositions that she has for them. Saala suggests that they have breakfast and prepare spells before rejoining Thlie and her.

After she leaves, the Angels discuss the possibility of working with the Gatekeepers over breakfast. Gurr’khan doesn’t contribute, listening silently for the most part. When asked if he has any idea what Saala has in mind, he grunts, “I really have no idea. Saala must be quite impressed with you all. Of course, I still think you people are insane, but it’s her call.” A little grudgingly, he adds, “Though you do have more skills than most.”

Once the Angels are done preparing their spells, they take care of the lingering effects from the previous evening. “That feels better,” says Luna, “But I can still feel that damn Key. I wonder when that’ll end”

“Look on the bright side,” says Six, with a chuckle. “If it doesn’t and they stick the Key somewhere permanent, you’ll have a permanent sense of direction.”

“I’ll pas…,” begins Luna, when a faint sound catches her extremely sharp hearing. Only Six and Gurr’khan, both almost as sensitive as her, hear it too. 

“What’s wrong?” asks Korm, as all three turn to look in the direction of the hill across the lake, Thlie’s lair. 

“Explosion!” says Luna. “From there!”

“Damn!” says Gurr’khan, “Get on board. I’ll swim, but it’ll take some time.”

Nameless, quickly calculating, says, “Six – you go with Gurr’khan. I can get the rest right in there. Luna – don’t transform into a bear yet. I can’t carry that much.”

As Gurr’khan transforms into a giant crocodile and slithers into the water, Six leaps onto his back. Still on the bank, Nameless and the others quickly cast a protective spell each, and then Nameless prepares to transport everyone. “You sure you know where you’re taking us?” asks Gareth.

“I’ve got direction from the Key,” says Nameless quickly, “And I’ve got a pretty good idea about distance.”

_“Pretty good?” _ thinks Gareth, sending up a silent prayer to the Silver Flame to aid Nameless’s judgement.

Whether it be the Flame’s favor or simply Nameless’s incredible intellect, the alienist makes no mistake. He _dimension door[/s] them with pinpoint accuracy. Nameless, Gareth, Luna and Korm appear in the middle of Thlie’s main chamber.

The first thing they notice is Saala next to a wall near them.

All three pieces of her.


* The person losing a link took 2d10 Con dmg. Thlie took 2d6 Con dmg.
** Nameless and Six got taken to a 0 Con, with the Bear’s Endurance keeping them alive._


----------



## shilsen

Saala’s corpse has literally been hacked apart and lies near one of the chamber’s walls. The area around it is stained yellowish-green, Korm and Luna recognizing the signs of a _rejuvenation cocoon_ that was destroyed or _dispel_led before it could complete its work. Nearby, backed up against the wall, and gibbering to herself, is Thlie.

Of more immediate concern are the two other people in the chamber, standing over Saala’s corpse. One is a muscular female orc, wearing ornate plate-mail armor that the Angels instantly recognize was worn by the fake Dala during the battle with Desro. She carries the same saw-toothed falchion, blood still dripping off its blade. Behind her is an older, slimmer male orc, in well-worn traveling garb. The latter is rising to his feet from Saala’s corpse, and simultaneously tucking the Key, glittering in his right hand, into his clothes.

As the adventurers appear, the male orc smiles and casts a spell, causing rubbery black tentacles to erupt from the ground around them. Korm and Gareth bull their way through the tentacles to open ground. While Nameless is seized by the tentacles, as is Luna, who is still in her normal form, he simply _dimension door_s the pair of them outside the spell’s grasp.

The delay, however, is what matters. The swordswoman steps forward and takes a ready stance. As she does, she calls back over her shoulder, “Can we kill them this time or do we have to pretend to lose again?” The other laughs. “No – you can kill them now. They have served their purpose.”

Luna snarls at the glib confidence of their enemies and transforms into her favorite bear form, also calling on her shifter heritage for added fortitude. As she transforms, her senses sharpen, especially that of scent. The bear Luna wrinkles her snout, recognizing the same combination of mustiness and wet hair that she smelled at the camp a couple nights ago.

While she is transforming, Korm rushes forward to engage the swordswoman. As he hacks at her, he again finds that her resistance to damage, whatever its source, takes the edge of his blows. Hers, however, bite through his defenses and the Gatekeeper is soon bleeding heavily.

His attack, however, keeps her occupied enough for Gareth to rush by at the spellcaster. Nameless casts a spell at the same time, causing three of his wolves to appear, two rushing at the spellcaster and one at the swordswoman. To Korm’s relief, though the one attacking his opponent barely scratches her, it uses its bulk to shove her off her feet.

The other two wolves leap forward, their innate _true strike_ ability making it impossible for them to miss. And yet they do, as they slam into an invisible barrier a foot from their target. He simply smiles past them at a momentarily flabbergasted Nameless. “You didn’t think it would be that easy, would you?”

What in the Planes is that? wonders Nameless.*

Meanwhile, Gareth sets his feet and swings, crying, “In the name of the Flame!” Kizmet kindles with silver fire as it comes down, and then clangs harmlessly off multiple layers of magical protection.

“Please!” says the untouched target. “I was killing your kind when being a paladin meant something.” He gestures dismissively, sending three _scorching ray_s burning into Gareth’s chest, and following them instantly with a coruscating _ray of enfeeblement_ that saps the paladin’s strength.

Beside the apparent protection against Nameless’s summoned creatures, the spellcaster apparently has other unusual spellcasting abilities. As the fight progresses, he casts a _greater command_, ordering each of the Angels to sleep. Though they fight off the magical compulsion, they realize that their enemy, so far apparently an arcanist, just used a spell normally used only by clerics. Moreover, he cast it in a unique form modified to be arcane in nature.

_What is this guy?_

Unknown to the others, Luna soon has an answer. While they are unable to do much to the spellcaster, his ally is not as lucky. Though her resistance to damage and heavy armor protects her almost completely from the wolves (all three of which Nameless now sends after her), they constantly snap at her and often manage to pull her off her feet. And they distract her from Korm and Luna, allowing them to inflict more and more minor nicks and cuts on her.

The spellcaster, after almost taking an already wounded Gareth off his feet with a quick volley of _magic missile_s, targets Nameless with a _dispel magic_. Nameless grins as his ring automatically counterspells it, and replies, “You’re not the only one who learns.”

Knowing that responding in kind is likely to be useless, Nameless targets the swordswoman, currently involved in dispatching one of the wolves. His _dispel_ does take hold, stripping off the magical protection she has. It also causes her magical disguise to shimmer for just a second. Only Luna is keen-eyed enough**, the mystical connection to her guardian beast spirit letting her see through it in the moment of weakness, and her brow furrows as she sees something she cannot identify. Unfortunately, as a bear, she cannot communicate what she sees.

As a near-unconscious Gareth shouts, “I could use some healing,” she growls and hurries to his side, slapping a big paw against him and invoking a _cocoon_ around him. The irritated spellcaster turns to Luna and slaps a hand against her head, his hand glowing with dark energy. The druid shudders, barely managing to fight off the killing energy of the _harm_ spell due to her unusual fortitude, emerging alive but severely wounded.

Even worse, her movement to Gareth’s side leaves Korm alone facing the swordswoman with the single remaining wolf. As she, having just been knocked off her feet, rises, Korm takes the opportunity to land as powerful a blow as he can. Seconds later, he is down, bleeding and unconscious. 

Nameless hurriedly summons a set of wolves, but only gets one. Luckily, reinforcements arrive at exactly the right moment. A large crocodile hurls itself out of the water in the next chamber and Six leaps off it and races forward. Even as the swordswoman dispatches another wolf, he reaches her and the chain lashes out, again pulling her to the ground.

“Gurr’khan!” shouts Six, throwing a quick glance at Saala’s corpse and the weeping form of Thlie, who has crawled to it. “Talk to Thlie! Get her in the fight!”

Behind him, the crocodile changes form and the Gatekeeper hurries forward too.

Luna growls her appreciation of the incoming allies. Having discovered that the spellcaster is incredibly hard to hit, she simply rears up, throws both paws around him, and pulls him into her grasp. For all of a second, before he slips out with magical alacrity, grins at her and steps quickly to the swordswoman’s side. “We’re leaving,” he says.

_He has a_ Freedom of Movement _too? Come on!_ “Stop them!” yells Nameless. “Luna! Gurr’khan! Blast them!” He takes to the air, flying forward as fast as he can.

The druids respond immediately, two _flame strike_s smashing down on the pair. Nameless, stopping short just outside the area of the blast, simultaneously unleashes a _cone of cold_ on them. The spellcaster emerges completely unscathed, but the swordswoman cries out as she is badly scorched and frozen at once. She concentrates for a moment, making sure that her resistance to magic doesn’t affect her ally’s spell, and then he _teleport_s them away.

“Son of a bitch!” 

With the enemies gone, Gurr’khan rushes to Saala’s corpse, while Gareth, having emerged from his _cocoon_ completely healed, rushes to revive Korm. 

Once Korm is back on his feet too, an angry and sorrowful Gurr’khan returns to join the others. “What happened before Six and I got here? Was Saala alive when you got there?”

The others explain what happened. After they do, Gurr’khan rubs his forehead wearily and says, “I could try to _reincarnate_ Saala, since she has never been before***. But I will need to travel to a place where I can easily find the ingredients for it, and so I could not do it before tomorrow.”

Luna, who has changed back to her shifter form, quickly says, “Actually, I’ve got the ingredients right here.”

“What?”

“Yes. We were planning to use it on someone who was killed by those two things we just fought, and we didn’t get to. We can use that for Saala.”

“Speaking of which,” says Gareth, “What in the Hells were they? The Flame and Kizmet let me overcome the resistance to damage of just about every kind of creature, but they seem completely unaffected by that.”

Luna looks around with a puzzled expression. “I was going to ask what they were, but you saw it, right?”

“Saw what?” ask the others, sounding just as puzzled.

“Through the disguise when Nameless hit her with the _dispel_. You didn’t see her face?”

“No, Luna – we don’t all have your abilities where vision is concerned. What did you see?”

Luna waves her hands expressively as she explains. “Its head was that of a tiger, even though the body was human-shaped. With big teeth and glowing red eyes. Body had fur on it, which must be where that wet hair smell came from.”

Nameless, Gareth, Korm and Gurr’khan all say at the same time. “Rakshasa.”


* I house-ruled Protection from Evil (and Magic Circle from Evil) to only protect against evil summoned creatures, just as the other “Protection from X” spells only protect against whatever “X” is. So a protection against neutral summoned creatures, as pseudonatural creatures are, is unknown to the PCs. 

** Rolled a 19, for a DC 40 spot check. Should just have penetrated the disguise but not revealed its real nature, but I thought it was an interesting way to handle the revelation.  And much better than just some NPC doing it.

*** Returning from the dead is significantly difficult in my game, because I prefer it that way and also think it better fits Eberron. One of a few house rules on the subject is that anyone brought back by a certain spell can never be brought back by the same spell again.


----------



## Solarious

At long, long last. We've figured out who's been hounding the Angels from the beginning, the Lords of Dust.  As a plus, the moment they relinquish their link the Key, they loose it to the people they'll least want to have it.  Well, at the very least they know the Key won't be trying to kill them this time, since it's likely to end up somewhere nasty like Ashtakala or deep inside Khyber. 

I approve heartily! The Angels are screwed seven ways. Wouldn't have it any other way.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> At long, long last. We've figured out who's been hounding the Angels from the beginning, the Lords of Dust.




Yup! The BBEG is finally unmasked. I've had him lurking in the shadows from the beginning, and the PCs have already met him in a couple of different guises before they met him with Desro.

I'd thought there was a fair chance of a reveal if they managed to capture Desro, but that didn't happen. Not that he would have been able to reveal everything, because he was effectively a patsy too. The entire Desro thing was a setup, intended to get Desro killed and have the Angels pick up the dragonshard ring on his finger, which would let the rakshasas follow them to the Shadow Marches. Which they did. The fight vs. Desro and his two allies involved a lot of faking on the part of the rakshasas, as they pretended to be in deeper trouble than they were and to "flee."



> As a plus, the moment they relinquish their link the Key, they loose it to the people they'll least want to have it.




At least I let them remove the link before it was stolen. My kindness knows no bounds.



> Well, at the very least they know the Key won't be trying to kill them this time, since it's likely to end up somewhere nasty like Ashtakala or deep inside Khyber.




You're close to right. You'll see after the writeups for the session we had on Saturday (this one was the last one from the previous session). The Angels chase the rakshasas and have a couple of amusing encounters. One involving trying to pimp out the paladin (quote: "Just close your eyes and think of Khorvaire") for the greater good. And a very interesting revelation.

Not to spoil anything, but the Angels are now on their way to the Demon Wastes. On the bright side, at least it's not Zilargo. 



> I approve heartily! The Angels are screwed seven ways. Wouldn't have it any other way.




I'm sure my players appreciate the sentiment.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> The entire Desro thing was a setup, intended to get Desro killed and have the Angels pick up the dragonshard ring on his finger, which would let the rakshasas follow them to the Shadow Marches. Which they did. The fight vs. Desro and his two allies involved a lot of faking on the part of the rakshasas, as they pretended to be in deeper trouble than they were and to "flee."




We didn't think they were in "Big Trouble" in the Desro Fight given their DR (Don't remember if their SR was apparent). We just assumed that the fight wasn't worth it for them after Desro got killed. 

The main question I have at this point is "Why bother with all the subterfuge?" They had more than enough force to just take it from us and even if we had every ally we could have mustered in Sharn, we couldn't have stopped them. Hell, if they'd attacked us before we'd headed off to Ya'kun Drall we couldn't have even pursued them, lacking the ability to teleport.

The only thing I can think of is that for whatever reason they didn't want us to have a link to the shard. Thlie still has one though doesn't she?


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> The main question I have at this point is "Why bother with all the subterfuge?" They had more than enough force to just take it from us and even if we had every ally we could have mustered in Sharn, we couldn't have stopped them. Hell, if they'd attacked us before we'd headed off to Ya'kun Drall we couldn't have even pursued them, lacking the ability to teleport.
> 
> The only thing I can think of is that for whatever reason they didn't want us to have a link to the shard.




Bingo! 

Remember what Thlie said. In order to function, a Key needs to be linked to one or more guardians, who can use it to bind or unbind. So, as long as it's linked to one or more guardians, nobody else can use it to bind or unbind anything. Which is why Nameless could use it for binding the escaping daelkyr only because the last guardian (Tyrass, the insane silver dragon) had died, and he had to use it while building links between the Key and the Angels (and Dala and Arrok). Similarly, Naxaliyen couldn't use the Key to unlock the dimensional seal in Yarkuun Draal but had to get Nameless to do so. 

If the rakshasas got the Key while the Angels were in Sharn, it would have been useless until every one of the Angels was dead. They could, of course, have tried to kill the Angels off and get the Key, but if one or more of the Angels escaped, it would have been useless until they were tracked down and killed.

It was just more convenient to get them to remove the link and then get the Key. 



> Thlie still has one though doesn't she?




No, Thlie didn't link to it. She simply removed the Angels' links (and took backlash damage since the Key resists being un-linked from a living guardian without a new link being formed). With her lifestyle and state, she basically can't be a guardian. Ideally, Saala would have had her link the Key to a suitable Gatekeeper (or group of them) and they would use it on an appropriate dimensional seal.

But the best-laid plans of high-level druids gang aft agley.


----------



## shilsen

“Rakshasas,” repeats Nameless, as if pronouncing a particularly foul expletive. “That explains a _lot_. No wonder they had unusual resistance to magic and to weapons.” 

“And these rakshasas have the Key?” says Gurr’khan worriedly.

“Yes,” says Nameless. “It’s somewhere in that direction.” He points towards the northeast. 

“But you have no idea of the distance.”

“No, unfortunately we don’t. Just the direc….” Then Nameless stops. “I’ve got an idea. It may take me a long while. Try to _reincarnate_ Saala. I’ll be back.”

With that, he hurries out. Gurr’khan watches him go with a puzzled look. “What is he up to?”

“No idea,” says Korm. “But we should see to Saala.”

“Yes.” Gurr’khan turns to the corpse, near which Thlie now quietly sits, staring at it and rocking softly on the spot. He reaches into a pouch and pulls out a small object. “I do not have a _reincarnate_ prepared, but with this I can…”

“Me!” says Luna quickly, “Let me do it!” The other Angels chuckle, knowing how long she’s been waiting for a chance to try the spell.

Gurr’khan looks surprised, but hands the object over. “You will be able to replace a spell you have ready, but need to use up prepared energy for another spell of the same valence or higher. Meditate on it while holding the idol.”

Luna takes the object, a small hardwood carving of a pot-bellied orc with both arms stretched above his head, and settles down against a wall to meditate. Fifteen minutes later, she is ready.

Luna and Gurr’khan lay out Saala’s corpse as neatly as possible and then arrange the ingredients in a foot long, roughly humanoid, shape beside it. Then, for the next ten minutes, Luna chants over it. Once she is done, she steps away. 

“What happened?” asks Six. “Did it not work?”

“Wait.”

As the Angels watch, the ingredients slowly begin to swell and expand, while simultaneously merging together into a single whole. Over the course of the next hour, it first takes on the shape of a humanoid form, a little over five feet in length. Then it begins to develop what seems to be skin over its surface. At the same time, Saala’s corpse begins to shrink and decay, rapidly shrinking into an unrecognizable mass.

At the end of the hour, what was a pile of spell ingredients is now a naked, apparently dead, young human woman. And then she gasps, opens her eyes, seems to choke momentarily and sits up. As the same moment, the tiny pile that is all that’s left of Saala’s corpse dissolves into nothing. 

Gurr’khan rushes forward, followed closely by the others. The woman looks at them, then down at herself, and then feels her face. “Oh! Damn!”

“Yes,” says Gurr’khan. “Those attackers killed you. We _reincarnate_d…”

“Me!”

“Fine! Luna _reincarnate_d you!”

“The attackers!” says the new Saala, standing quickly. “Did you stop them? Where are they?”

“They got away. With the Key.”

“Damn!”

Korm comments, “You might want to put on some clothes.”

“Huh? Oh, yes.” Saala accepts a blanket and wraps it around herself. Noticing Thlie, who has been staring at her with evident relief but not coming closer, she walks over and embraces her friend. Then she sits down and says, “Tell me everything that happened.”

The Angels relate everything. Saala, understandably, is first surprised and then gloomily accepting of the information that they were rakshasas. “That explains many things. Thlie and I were in the middle of a discussion when they appeared near us and attacked. I blasted them with a couple of spells, but failed to affect the one spellcaster, and the other wounded me badly. I shouted to Thlie to flee and created a _rejuvenation cocoon_ to buy time. Seconds later, the spellcaster _dispel_led it, and the last thing I saw was the warrior slashing into me. Until you brought me back.” 

She looks at Luna, says, “Thank you,” a little absent-mindedly, and then down at herself again. Saala feels her own, now unfamiliar, face and says, “This will take getting used to. And I’ll have to tell a _lot_ of people.” She concentrates and her features shift and turn back into that of her original body. “That’s better.”

Turning back to the others, she asks, “And you have no idea where they went?”

“Well,” says Six, pointing in the direction that all the Angels can feel the Key’s existence, “We know it’s somewhere over there, but we can’t say how far away.”

“Seven hundred miles,” says Nameless, having returned unnoticed a moment earlier.

“What? How do you know?”

A little wearily, but smugly, Nameless says, “That’s what I was doing, flying back and forth for the last two hours. I triangulated its position based on how the direction varied with my movement. It’s about five hundred miles north and almost the same direction to the east, so just about seven hundred to the northeast. Give or take ten.”

“That’s … impressive.” Saala turns to Gurr’khan. “That would put it in the western Reaches, right?”

“Yes.”

Saala considers for a bit and then says, “If you do not mind, I’d like to speak to Thlie and Gurr’khan for a while. This situation has obviously changed drastically, and I need to decide what to do next.”

The Angels agree and give them some time. After about half an hour, the three rejoin them and Saala says, “We have discussed the situation and I think you should go after them right now. The spellcaster clearly used a significant amount of magic in the battle, and if he had more dangerous magic, I'm sure he’d have used it against you. All of you, especially in combination, have many more resources left. And they presumably don’t know that you have some lingering directional link to the Key. I don’t want to take the risk of them placing the Key in some sort of extradimensional storage and losing the link, especially since I don’t know how long it will last.”

She looks at Gurr’khan, who nods, and continues, “Since Nameless has some idea of the general distance, Gurr’khan can transport you all as close to it as possible. And then, hopefully, you can track them down using the link.”

Saala takes a deep breath and looks around at the Angels one by one. It is clear that she’s very concerned, but holding her emotions under control. “I know I’m asking for a lot from you, but consider what this can mean for Khorvaire. Will you do this? I will repay you as I can.”

Nameless says simply, “I will do what I must to keep the Shard safe. If you can get us within striking distance of them, I will go after them even if it is on my own,” the expression in his eyes making it clear that he’s really looking forward to another meeting with the rakshasas.

Gurr’khan mutters, just loud enough to be heard, "Crazy summoner of tentacled monstrosities 1 - paladin 0."

Saala’s lips twitch at the comment, but then she looks at Nameless and says seriously, “Thank you. You have my gratitude.” She looks at the rest of you. “Will you help too?”

Korm and Six both agree, while Luna mutters something about the ‘bloody cursed shard’ and then grudgingly agrees to help. 

Gareth, having given Gurr’khan a dirty look, unsheathes Kizmet. “You,” he says to Thlie, “Said this sword was made to fight fiends. Rakshasas are close enough for me.” As he speaks, the paladin feels a thrill of anticipation from the sword. “Can you get us right to them?” he asks Gurr’khan.

The elderly orc shakes his head. “The best that we can do is show up in the general area. I’ll transport us to a tree 700 miles away, in the direction you indicate, and when we emerge, we can pick up the direction again ... I mean you people can ... and then try to find it. Also, I cannot transport all of you right now. A little shrinking has to happen. Can you do that, Nameless?” 

When Nameless says that he does not have such a spell ready, Gurr’khan digs out the same carving he gave Luna, and explains how to use it. 

While Nameless is preparing, Saala says to Gurr’khan, “I hope this situation will end today, but if it takes longer, leave them to pursue and return tomorrow to tell me what has occurred. I will wait here for 24 hrs but will then head south to Zarash’ak to check on other resources. 

Once Nameless is ready, she addresses the group. “Thank you again. Is there any other way I can help before you leave?”

Nameless considers for a moment and then says, “My primary concern is our difficulty getting through the resistance to damage and to magic of the rakshasas. We need some way to deal with it. Also, I’m a little puzzled by the spellcaster’s ability to use magic that would normally be clerical in nature.”

Saala replies, “I have never fought a rakshasa myself – well, not till today – but I have heard that some of them have the ability to cast spells that arcanists, which is what rakshasa spellcasters invariably are, normally cannot.”

”It seems,” she adds a little gloomily, “That this one can do so. In theory, that is because much of magic was discovered or invented by their predecessors and the dragons ages ago, so they can craft it as the more mortal races cannot. As you know, certain dragons can use clerical magic too, though they transform it into arcane versions that other races cannot use.”

As Nameless nods, Saala continues, “Unfortunately, we have no weapons here that would help against rakshasas, but I can help with the resistance to magic.” She digs around in her backpack and produces a scroll. “This is a spell that was brought to us by the dragons. It will help you penetrate the resistance to magic of a single creature per casting. Since it was crafted by dragons, it actually works better for arcanists than for druids or clerics, but Korm and Luna will be able to use it too.”*

Nameless quickly skims the scroll. “This will help.”

Gurr’khan says, “All right. Now let us leave.” He points toward the exit from the lair. “Let us get outside and find a suitable tree.”


* Introduction of Assay Resistance into the game. I made it a Clr5 spell and Drd5 too.


----------



## Solarious

Saala said:
			
		

> “It seems... that this one can do so. In theory, that is because much of magic was discovered or invented by their predecessors and the dragons ages ago, so they can craft it as the more mortal races cannot. As you know, certain dragons can use clerical magic too, though they transform it into arcane versions that other races cannot use.”



*has gleeful memories of Heal capable Red Dragons*

Bweeheeeheeheee.


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> The fight vs. Desro and his two allies involved a lot of faking on the part of the rakshasas, as they pretended to be in deeper trouble than they were and to "flee."



"Show weakness to hide strength". Always gets them. 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> At least I let them remove the link before it was stolen. My kindness knows no bounds.



... Of course it doesn't, shilsen. 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> You're close to right. You'll see after the writeups for the session we had on Saturday (this one was the last one from the previous session).



Well, close is good, right? The Eldeen Reaches is both infested with various abberations and close to the border with the Demon Wastes. -Everyone- gets to have fun. Right? 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> The Angels chase the rakshasas and have a couple of amusing encounters. One involving trying to pimp out the paladin (quote: "Just close your eyes and think of Khorvaire") for the greater good. And a very interesting revelation.



As you said earlier, if the most 'normal' of the group is a living construct (speaking of which, we haven't heard a lot from Six lately), the words amusing and interesting takes on new meaning. 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Not to spoil anything, but the Angels are now on their way to the Demon Wastes. On the bright side, at least it's not Zilargo.



...

You know what? You're absolutely right. They might have a snowball's chance in Fernia in the Demon Wastes as high level oogie boogies, but Zilargo will pwn them without thinking twice. 

Especially if you take Keith Baker's writings about Zilargo (and his numerous postings ) into account. 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> I'm sure my players appreciate the sentiment.



Damn straight they better! Your players dance for my amusement! Dance, puppets, *DANCE* ~ <3


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> It was just more convenient to get them to remove the link and then get the Key.



Why go up there, when _everyone_ is dying to get down here? ~ Corpse Bride, Elder Goodnik


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> But the best-laid plans of high-level druids gang aft agley.



What? Luna and Gurr'khan didn't show you that yet?


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> *has gleeful memories of Heal capable Red Dragons*
> 
> Bweeheeeheeheee.




Precisely 

I'd been thinking of a way to make the spellcaster a little more capable, especially in the healing area, and I thought, "Why not give him access to divine spells too?" And then I considered how that's already an ability for various dragons and the connection between rakshasas and dragons in Eberron.

And then, coincidentally, I went "Bweeheeeheeheee" too 



> Well, close is good, right? The Eldeen Reaches is both infested with various abberations and close to the border with the Demon Wastes. -Everyone- gets to have fun. Right?




Yup. It's just a one-session stop, but they had some amusing interactions and discovered a little more info, some of it fairly important. 

Most of the campaign has been Sharn-based, with the only other place visited being Xen'drik, so I wanted the PCs to get to see a little more of Khorvaire. This sequence of events worked well to that end. So far, it's been Shadow Marches, Eldeen Reaches and soon to be Demon Wastes. It's like a magical train ride.



> As you said earlier, if the most 'normal' of the group is a living construct (speaking of which, we haven't heard a lot from Six lately), the words amusing and interesting takes on new meaning.




Six's player tends not to do the most talking and NPC interaction, but that's partly also my fault in the writeups. I need to amend that.



> You know what? You're absolutely right. They might have a snowball's chance in Fernia in the Demon Wastes as high level oogie boogies, but Zilargo will pwn them without thinking twice.
> 
> Especially if you take Keith Baker's writings about Zilargo (and his numerous postings ) into account.




Oh, I do. I love Keith's take on the gnomes, though I've been told that my gnomes are even worse. There was one point when the players discussed OOC whether it would be better to go to Yarkuun Draal or Zilargo for info, and the general consensus was that a city of aberrations was way preferable to a country of gnomes.



> Damn straight they better! Your players dance for my amusement! Dance, puppets, *DANCE* ~ <3




I'll get them started on the next chorus line


----------



## Sidekick

Ahh now this is cool. A Rhakshassa plot is what I like to see.

Bring me more story hour goodness to cheer my day at work.

Justice demands it!!!

Oh and the gnomes of Zilargo are evil. My players whenever they encounter a Gnome all call out in unison "Gnomes. B@STARDS!!!!".

They have their reasons...


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Ahh now this is cool. A Rhakshassa plot is what I like to see.
> 
> Bring me more story hour goodness to cheer my day at work.
> 
> Justice demands it!!!
> 
> Oh and the gnomes of Zilargo are evil. My players whenever they encounter a Gnome all call out in unison "Gnomes. B@STARDS!!!!".
> 
> They have their reasons...




I think the PCs (and players) were reasonably relieved that it was rakshasas and not gnomes. Though it's quite possible that the gnomes are manipulating the rakshasas, of course 

And since you ask...

*****
About ten minutes later, the Angels follow Gurr’khan out of the trunk of a thick tree. As they emerge, they look around to see a very different scene to the one they left, on the banks of the Pool of Shadow, seven hundred miles to the southwest.

The area is thickly forested, with huge trees rising hundreds of feet into the clear air above. The ground beneath the trees is incredibly lush, seeming more natural in some way or other, not wild but rather untouched by civilization. The bushes and grass are especially thick, the leaves on them and the bark on the trees almost glowing with vitality. The mushroom rings that dot the area do actually glow slightly. The shadows in the area seem a little thicker and deeper than would be normal, and plants and stones that are sheltered from the sun gleam with spots of phosphorescence. The air is thick with the scent of vegetation, but still much lighter and significantly less humid than the thick, hot atmosphere of the marsh in the Shadow Marches. The only partly unnatural things in the area are a number of long, wall-like areas of vegetation, which look almost like they were grown in that shape, though they lack any sign of pruning or other artificial crafting. Though not unnatural, it is also slightly unusual that the sky looks like twilight is about to set in, considering that it should be late afternoon.

Gurr’khan looks around and says, “I have not been in this area before. As I said, we are far west of where I have generally been. If I am judging rightly, we are well within the western woods. This entire place is a manifest zone to Thelanis. Probably the largest manifest zone on Eberron, actually. These would be fey lands.” Gurr’khan’s tone is slightly disapproving. Then he shakes his head, focusing on the reason for their presence. “Do you sense the Key?”

“Yes,” says Six, “That way,” as he points directly to the west. “Wait – what’s that?”

As the others turn, some of them spot what caught his attention. From behind the trees and vegetation in the way, sunlight gleams off metal. In multiple places. 

As the others draw weapons and ready themselves for danger, Six moves forward quietly, followed by Luna. Peering through some intervening bushes, they see five men in polished armor, hiding behind bushes and trees about a hundred feet away. They are all facing to the west, away from the Angels, with weapons drawn, apparently focused on a particularly thick example of the long vegetative walls. Though their armor is well-polished, above it they wear tattered clothes and torn cloaks, and the little that the watchers can see of their faces shows both tiredness and concern. Most interestingly, all of their armor displays symbols of the Silver Flame, and a couple of the men seem to be holding holy symbols of the Flame.

Six and Luna turn to motion the others forward. As they are approaching, Six steps through the bushes and calls out, “Hello there – who are you?” The men promptly spin around, a couple beginning to swing their bows in his direction. As they are doing so, the sound of horns and pipes springs up to the west, coming from behind – or within – the wall of vegetation the men are facing towards. 

The men begin to swing back, and as they are doing so, the vegetation they were looking at seems to part, bending out of the path of a number of figures, who burst out of its depths. In the lead are two satyrs. The half-men half-goats are dressed in nothing beside a number of belts and straps that hold weapons and pouches in place, and one is playing on a set of pipes, while the other blows a horn. They form the outer edges of a triangle, and immediately behind and a little closer to the middle follow two half-elves. Each is garbed in leather armor and wears a wreath of mistletoe. Behind them, forming the apex of the triangle, are four small humanoid figures, each with dark green skin and brown, barklike hair that stands up in spikes. They are garbed in thick, rubbery leaves, and each holds a buckler, with a longsword at its side and a longbow at its shoulder. The druids and Nameless recognize them as Thorns, warriors and defenders of the fey realms.

As soon as they appear, the humans attack, three shooting arrows and the two men holding holy symbols hurling _hold person_ spells. A satyr and a thorn cry out as arrows hit, and one of the half-elves, who were watching the ground as if following tracks, is paralyzed. The humans shout, “For the Silver Flame!” and charge forward.

“Stop!” yell a number of the Angels, trying to end the fight and find out exactly what they stumbled into.

Unfortunately, nobody seems to be paying attention. After the momentary surprise, the fey fight back, the thorns unslinging their bows and firing, while the remaining half-elf casts a spell, causing the grass and vegetation around the humans to _entangle_ them. A couple are held firmly in place and all are slowed in their movements. This provides an opportunity for the satyrs, who scamper to the side, utilizing magical effects through their instruments. One of the humans collapses, apparently asleep, while another stops and looks around confusedly, asking his companions, “Why are we fighting? They’re friendly.”

As Gareth rushes forward, the eyes of Flamer in the center, who seems to be the leader, light up as he sees the symbols on his armor, and he shouts, “Comrade! Help us!”

Trying to prevent the attacks on either side, Luna drops an _ fog cloud_ between the two groups. At the same time, Nameless casts a _web_. Having measured the distance between the opposing parties and realized that he will only be able to affect one group, he casts it around the humans. Already in the middle of the grasping vegetation, all but one are held firmly in place, and even the one not stuck (the leader) is barely able to move. Alarmed, and assuming the spellcaster is an enemy, the leader yells to Gareth, “Look out! Behind you!”

Korm chuckles, commenting to Six, “He’s evidently seen the two of them together.”

The joke is even more appropriate now than usual. Seeing Nameless’s _web_ appear, Gareth spins around and shouts angrily at him, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Trying to stop them from fighting,” says Nameless calmly, as he walks forward, keeping well in the rear of the group.

Despite the attempts to defuse the conflict, it doesn’t seem to be working that well. The fey move around the edges of the _fog cloud_ and both they and the humans continue to attack, switching to ranged weapons due to the combination of spells hampering movement. The humans have a momentary advantage, as a pair of _sound burst_s from them stun all of the fey except for one of the satyrs. 

This one, evidently presuming the newcomers are enemies too, attempts to affect a number of them with its horn, but fails. Six, having moved up ahead of his companions, quickly spins his spiked chain around its hooved feet and pulls it to the ground. 

“Stay down,” warns the big warforged, but the satyr shows no sign of comprehension.

Language adds to the problems here, since the fey, some of whom are shouting commands or orders, are only speaking in sylvan. While the half-elves would presumably understand the Angels, one is still paralyzed and the other is stunned. 

Luna, already a bear, gestures to Gurr’khan, who has changed form too, that he should change back and translate. The older druid grunts angrily and then begins to transform. As he is doing so, the sound of distant hoof-beats springs up behind another of the vegetative walls, this one to the north of the conflict. Luna hurries in that direction, followed by Korm.

Gareth, meanwhile, after yelling at Nameless a couple of times to dismiss the spell, stalks over to the mage. Absolutely livid, he raises Kizmet and says through gritted teeth, “DROP the spell! You will get them killed due to your prejudices. Drop it or I _will_ hit you.”

Nameless, who has been abortively trying to explain to the combatants that they should stop, looks at the paladin disgustedly, unconcerned by the shining blade six inches from his head. “That _web_ is currently stopping the fey from filling them full of holes. Now get that sword out of my face. There’s more trouble coming.”

The alienist is quickly proved correct. Luna has just raised a large paw to pull aside the vegetation in front of her when the sound of hooves advances at incredible speed. The leaves and branches slide aside right in front of her to reveal a large horse, its color a green so dark as to be almost black. Astride it is what looks like a tall and incredibly beautiful elf, with pearly opalescent eyes and a radiant aura that floats around her head and streams behind her with her waist-length coal-black hair. Her eyes widen in surprise at the sight of a large bear right in front of her and she pulls back on the reins. The horse rises in an incredibly quick and smooth leap, sailing over the head of Luna, who frantically throws herself out of the way.

Simultaneously, another section of the wall parts to reveal a similar horse and rider, this one with a male rider, his face strong where the woman’s is beautiful, a similar aura playing around his head. 

Between the two horses, at a significantly lower level, a third section parts before a large black hound with flaming eyes, a greenish mist streaming from its open mouth as it lopes forward. 

As it emerges, the hound almost runs into Luna as she dives beneath the leaping horse. The dog growls and snaps at the bear, but its teeth clash against the _mage armor_ that Nameless had placed on her. Luna rears up and growls fiercely, but restrains herself from attacking.

The male rider pulls his horse up on its rear hooves as he sees his partner forced to leap over the bear and reaches out, crying, “Intruders!” 

A stream of lights shoots from his fingers, washing over a number of the Angels. Eyes go wide as the spellcasters realize what it is. _Prismatic spray!_

Luna, Gareth and Korm stagger as each is hit by a beam. Despite what they expected, the rays neither burn nor electrocute them, but simply rock them with powerful, but non-lethal, energy.

Gurr’khan is not as lucky. The druid has just changed back into an orc and yelled loudly in sylvan to the fey, momentarily stopping their attack. As he is turning to face the newcomers, a ray slams into his side. He groans at the impact and a gray pallor shoots over his body. A second later, a stone statue stands in his place.

“Oh, great!” says Six, remembering the experience in Yarkuun Draal with Korm, “What is it with druids turning to stone?” As he speaks, the warforged warily readies his chain, in case they have to battle the newcomers.

Gareth quickly turns away from Nameless, thinking the same thing, but the alienist intervenes. “They’re eladrin,” he says urgently. “The lords of the fey. Ghaeles, I think. They’re not evil – just chaotic. And much stronger than us, as that spell should have shown you.”

“Not evil?” grits out Gareth, holding Kizmet at the ready. “They just attacked and turned Gurr’khan to stone!”

“But they’re not attacking any more. See!”

As Nameless says, the attack is ended. The female rider quickly cries something to her partner and then trots over, speaking urgently in sylvan. He nods and lowers his hand. 

Nameless steps forward with a hand raised to show peaceful intentions. “Please! We mean you no harm, or anyone else here, for that matter. We are simply traveling through here and got embroiled in trying to stop this battle.”

As he speaks, Luna is in the process of changing form to join in the explanations. A second behind her, the black hound does the same, resolving itself into the shape of an attractive half-elven woman.

She looks around the scene quickly, puts her hands on her hips and speaks. Her voice is melodious and strong. “Travelers in the Reaches, eh? We usually do not get many in this part of the Towering Wood. Greetings. I am Kaelyn Windsong. These,” she indicates the two silently watching eladrin, “Are Titania and Oberon.”


----------



## Solarious

Will we ever get away from Shakespeare? Damn you long-dead writers! 

By the by, aren't _Hold Person_ ineffective against creatures of the Fey and Plant types? Not that everyone knows that. 

Hee! Should I start a gallery of stone druids in awkward poses?


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Will we ever get away from Shakespeare? Damn you long-dead writers!




I'm doing my Ph.D. in English, and the Renaissance (esp. Old Billy) are my areas of specialization, so it's a little surprising that he hasn't shown up even earlier. But in an encounter with fey running around the Reaches, I couldn't resist.



> By the by, aren't _Hold Person_ ineffective against creatures of the Fey and Plant types? Not that everyone knows that.




The _Hold Person_s were used against the two half-elves among the fey.



> Hee! Should I start a gallery of stone druids in awkward poses?




We were laughing about that after Gurr'khan got stoned. NPCs always suffer lousy random luck in my games. Gareth's player rolled for the ray effects and got the petrification one for Gurr'khan, and I rolled a 2 on his Fort save. I forgot to mention that Luna actually got hit by the Plane Shift effect and blew her save, having to use an action pt to reroll.

And on to the next bit. Less action, more talking...

*****

Nameless introduces the rest of the Angels and then points at the statue that was Gurr’khan moments ago. “And that was our guide, Gurr’khan, a member of the Gatekeepers.”

“Gatekeeper?” asks Kaelyn. “Pity about that,” she adds, though her tone does not sound particularly regretful.

“Can you turn him back?” asks Six. 

Kaelyn looks at Oberon and Titania, who are sitting and watching the group with some interest. “Not today,” says Oberon, his voice strong and resonant, with no signs of any particular urgency to that end.

As he speaks, Gareth is scanning the pair, and Kaelyn, for evil. While the druidess is evidently not, the two eladrin present something he has never seen. As the paladin focuses on them, he sees an evil aura, which then promptly fades away, before reappearing a few seconds later, then fading away again. And so on. 

Meanwhile, Kaelyn continues, “So what are you doing here, if you were here by happenstance?”

“We were pursuing two rakshasas who stole something important to the Gatekeepers.”

“Rakshasas? Interesting! What did they steal?”

There is an amusing moment of dead silence as none of the Angels answers the question, simply staring back at Kaelyn and waiting for someone else to respond. She looks from face to face, a smile beginning to widen across her face, before Nameless finally repeats, “Something very important.”

Kaelyn laughs. “I see you don’t want to share the details.” She shrugs and laughs again. “Not that I care.”

Nameless quickly moves on, “We have some idea of where they might be, but you have petrified our guide.”

Kaelyn shrugs again. “Well, you did ruin our hunt.”

“It was ruined already,” puts in Titania, giving Oberon an accusing look. “I told you that we should take away their weapons, because they might do something stupid. You know Flamers.”

Gareth immediately speaks up, a frown on his face. “Hunt? You hunt humans?” 

Kaelyn snorts disgustedly, while the two eladrin simply smile. “No, we don’t hunt humans. We just happened to be hunting this bunch.” She jerks a thumb at the five humans, who are standing back to back, clearly not reassured by the fact that they are not currently being attacked.

“Why?” 

“They crashed one of our parties.”

“What?!” asks Gareth, while a couple of the Angels chuckle.

“Yes. We’re in the middle of a dance and suddenly they come rushing through the trees, making a horrible racket. Trespassing is bad enough, but sounding like a herd of elephants is just rude! So we told them that if they gave us a good run we’d let them go.”

Gareth stares at her for a moment and then turns away. He strides towards the humans. A couple of the thorns move to intercept, and then stop, at a gesture from Kaelyn. Gareth passes them and asks the man who seems to be their leader, “What is going on here?”

Instead of answering, the man asks uncertainly, “Who _are_ you?”

“Gareth Byron Deneith, a paladin of the Flame. Tell me, please – what happened here?”

The man shakes his head, confusion and weariness writ clear across it. “I am Flamebearer Char Gilam. We were pursuing a group of lycanthropes that had killed some travelers. We ended up lost in the forest and the next thing we know, there are strange lights all around us and these fey surround us. They take us somewhere – no idea where, since we were blindfolded – and then tell us that they’d give us a chance to escape – since that would be more entertaining! It was soon clear that we’d never make it, so we decided to make a last stand and die honorably. And then you people showed up.”

He stops and then asks, “Can you help us?”

“I intend to,” says Gareth grimly, before heading back towards the others.

While he has been speaking to Char, Kaelyn says to the remaining Angels, “Anyway – our hunt’s quite ruined now, so…”

Nameless suddenly interrupts. “There’s a way we could make this up to you. Wouldn’t hunting two rakshasas be very entertaining?”

“Hmm! That’s possible.” Kaelyn looks at the silent eladrin, both of whom nod. “That’s an interesting idea. Where are these rakshasas?”

“To the west,” says Nameless. “Within a few miles, I think. I can narrow it down soon enough.”

“Hmm – that’s well within our territory, which is another reason to deal with them.”

That is when Gareth returns. Seeing him do so, Kaelyn smiles and gestures at the waiting fey, who move towards the humans. “Wait!” says Gareth. “What are they doing?”

“They’ll take them away, since the hunt’s ruined. We’ll decide what to do with them later.”

“No – you need to free them now. It’s bad enough that you were hunting them down…”

Kaelyn arches a brow. “We weren’t hunting them down. We’d never hurt them. Just a fun chase.”

“That is not what they say.”

“Of course not! What good’s a hunt if they know they’re in no danger?”

“Nevertheless, they must be freed.”

Kaelyn holds Gareth’s gaze and then suddenly smiles. “Very well.” She looks at Oberon, who waves a hand. The humans promptly drop in their tracks. 

“What did you do?” asks Gareth, alarmed.

“Put them to sleep. So they won’t do something stupid.” Noting the expression, Kaelyn says, “Really – we’ll drop them outside our territories.”

“I’m sure she’s telling the truth, Gareth,” says Luna, who has been getting a little bored. “Can we go after the rakshasas now?”

“Yes,” says Kaelyn. Then she looks at Gareth and a strange expression comes over her face. “Give me a moment.”

She walks over to Titania, gesturing for her to lean down, and whispers something. The eladrin listens and then throws back her head and laughs loudly, in a significantly unladylike manner. “I doubt it,” she says, between diminishing chuckles, “But you can try.”

“What do you think she’s up to?” asks Six quietly.

“Oh my!” says Luna, and then a big smile spreads across her face, “I know what it is.”

As her uncomprehending companions look at Luna, Kaelyn walks back. “Since you ruined our hunt and we’re about to help you out, I’d like a little something in return too.” She points at Gareth. “Him.”

Luna chortles, “I told you so!” while Nameless rolls his eyes, and Korm and Six chuckle. Gareth’s expression shifts through a moment of shocked surprise to a forbidding glare.

“Oh, please – Kaelyn,” says Oberon in a disgusted tone. “He’s human. That’s nauseating.” 

Kaelyn just smiles and says, “A girl has needs. And it’s been a couple of days already. So – how about it? Just two hours and…” 

“Two hours?!” interrupts Titania. “You’ll kill that poor thing!”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. All right – an hour then.”

Seeing that she is completely serious, Gareth finally says, “No.” And goes back to glowering.

“Oh, come on! Don’t be such a stick-in-the mid! You’ll enjoy it.” She smiles, more than a little hungrily. “You’ll _really_ enjoy it.”

“No!”

Nameless, who has been grinning broadly, say, “Come on, Gareth. You know how important this is. Make the sacrifice.”

“Yes,” chuckles Korm. “Just lie back, close your eyes and think of Khorvaire.” 

If looks could kill, the one that Gareth gives Korm would leave him a smoldering pile.  “This is _not_ a discussion we need to have.”

Kaelyn puts her hands on her hips exasperatedly. “Really, what _is_ your problem? It’s not like it’s your first time, right?” 

There is a long moment of silence as everyone’s eyes go to Gareth’s face. Though it remains expressionless, a slight flush runs up his cheeks.

“Oh my!” says Kaelyn, her expression going from surprised to amused to extremely excited. “That’s amazing! Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I had one fresh out of the stream?”

Luna, wiping away tears by this point, says, “Believe me, Kaelyn, it’s not happening. And it’s not worth it.” She gestures at Korm and Nameless. “How about either of these?”

Even before Kaelyn can respond, Korm gives a guffaw. “Okay, now _that_ is funny!”

Kaelyn, looking slightly relieved at his response, says, “Yes, it is. No offense, gentlemen, but I think I’ll pass.”

At this point, Oberon speaks up. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s go see these rakshasas.”

“Fine!” says Kaelyn disappointedly. “You really sure…?” she begins, looking at Gareth, and then quits. “Are you sure these rakshasas will be entertaining enough?”

“Oh yes,” says Nameless. “They’re very entertaining.”

“So – where are they?”

Nameless spends ten minutes triangulating and discovers that the distance to the Key is about seven miles.

“That’ll take a while to travel,” says Kaelyn, before Titania says, “We can speed things up.” She gestures at the group. “Everybody – get close to each other.”

Oberon and Titania take up a position about thirty feet from each other, facing inwards, with the others between them. The two eladrin close their eyes and concentrate. Seconds later, the surrounding forest shimmers and grows darker and more shadowy. The Angels, however, can see each other and the other three just as clearly, though the fey and sleeping humans nearby are also partly obscured by the shadows.

“What did they do?” asks Six quietly, but Kaelyn overhears. “They just moved us partly into the border between Eberron and Thelanis, without going all the way over. It makes travel faster.”

“Something like a _shadow walk_ spell, isn’t it?” asks Nameless, with professional curiosity.

“Yes,” says Titania, opening her eyes. “Let us go. Walk together and nobody stop unless we tell them to.”

The Angels quickly work out why she says this. As they walk, the shadowy forest flows by at remarkable speed. Whenever someone stops or, in Gareth’s case, stumbles, anyone following behind bumps into him with bruising force, or he is quickly left behind and has to hurry to catch up. 

Nevertheless, after a couple of collisions, they manage to make good time. In less than ten minutes, they reach a spot where the direction to the Key suddenly changes. Nameless mentions it to Kaelyn and all of them carefully stop simultaneously, retrace their steps and stop again.

Oberon and Titania bring them back to normality, and then Kaelyn asks, “So – where is this rakshasa lair?”

Nameless looks down at the ground beneath his feet, seemingly the same as that in any other part of the forest. “As far as I can tell, right below us.”


----------



## Gold Roger

Oh, this is good. The situation with the fey was one of your best ones yet. But the help of two eladrin and co. so easily gained? Something is bound to go wrong.


----------



## shilsen

Gold Roger said:
			
		

> Oh, this is good. The situation with the fey was one of your best ones yet.




Thanks. I was especially happy with the session since I effectively ran the entire thing on the fly, because I hadn't had time for detailed prep due to a lot of work for college. It's sad to put grading 50 freshman comp papers ahead of D&D prep, but it has to be done sometimes. I knew the situation they'd meet in the Reaches and had some vague ideas for the rakshasa lair, but that was it. Luckily, I've really got into the habit of flying by the seat of my pants, so it went quite just the way any other session does.



> But the help of two eladrin and co. so easily gained? Something is bound to go wrong.




I'll let you be the judge...

********************************************************************
“Below?” says Kaelyn, as she turns to the two eladrins and raises her eyebrows quizzically.

Oberon nods calmly. “That makes sense. It must be more than twenty feet below the surface, since I cannot feel it, and some of us would have known if rakshasas were traveling regularly on the surface here.”

While they are speaking, Nameless walks back and forth for a couple of minutes. Finally, he says, sounding slightly disappointed, “It’s about thirty feet, and no deeper than forty, I’m sure. But I can’t be certain of the precise location. The link seems a little vague here.” He shrugs and adds, “Of course, this is the first time we’ve been this close since we began tracking it, so perhaps one can only pick a general area. Even an area hundreds of feet in width would seem very precise when targeting from miles away.”

“Who cares?” says Kaelyn, who doesn’t seem that interested in the details, “As long as the rakshasas are down there. Let’s go.”

The comment is aimed at the eladrin, who promptly take up positions twenty feet from each other. “Stand between us,” commands Titania.

Once the Angels comply, both Oberon and she slowly raise their forearms till they are horizontal to the ground, palms downwards. They spread their fingers and concentrate for a few moments.

Instantly, the Angels feel movement beneath their feet. Looking down, they see the earth under them flowing away to the sides. For a few seconds, the Angels struggle to keep their balance, especially Gareth in his heavy armor, but soon adapt to the situation. The flow of earth gradually lowers the group deeper and deeper into the ground, and within minutes, they are more than a dozen feet below the surface, standing at the bottom of a trench ten feet wide and stretching between the two eladrins. 

After a couple more minutes, the flow of earth ends abruptly, as their boots clang against a stone surface. Looking down, they see that they stand on what must be the roof of a rectangular chamber and the tunnel leading away from it. The stone is extremely smooth, and there are no signs of seams, as if it had been carved out of a huge granite slab.

Nameless and the others confirm that the Key is somewhere below them, but cannot say exactly where.

“Do you need us to break through the stone too?” asks Oberon, adding, “Considering the effort we are making, I hope this will be sufficiently entertaining.”

“I’m sure it will,” says Korm, unsheathing his sword. “And I’ll get us through it.”

“I’ll help,” says Six, reaching into a pack and producing the adamantine blade that the late, unlamented Desro had wielded.

Korm’s blade, forged out of meteoric iron, is just as powerful, and Six and he quickly chop their way into the ceiling.

While they are working, Kaelyn asks Nameless, “So – are you going to need us to fight too, or can we watch?” She glances at Gareth, grins a little salaciously, and says, “Sometimes I just like to watch.”

Gareth ignores her, but Nameless replies, “I’m sure you’ll find it much more interesting if you join in.”

“We will consider it,” says Titania. “We rarely have dealings with rakshasas. But they can be …irritating.” The tone of voice is like that of a housewife discussing a noisy neighbor.

“We’re through,” interrupts Korm, indicating the hole they have carved through the five foot deep granite ceiling. At the bottom of the hole is a fifteen foot deep room, the only thing in it visible being the edge of a large rug with an abstract pattern.

After a couple of preparatory spells, the Angels lower themselves down, followed by Kaelyn and the eladrins. They find themselves in a large, mostly featureless room, with a door in each of the north, east and west walls. Besides the large rug that covers half the floor, which they had glimpsed through the hole above, the only notable thing in the room is a large stone tableau, half painting and half carving, set into the southern wall. It depicts two large archways, each of which a rakshasa is stepping sideways through.

The two rakshasas are bigger than life-size, standing as tall as ogres. They are partly three-dimensional, carved so that they extend halfway out of the wall. The carvings face each other, mirroring the other’s stance, with a clawed paw raised and extended. While both have black stripes, one has yellow fur and the others is bone-white. They also have a different gem representing the single eye that can be seen in each statue, one of them a large emerald and the other a reddish-black opal.

Luna whistles at the sight of the gems. “I want those!”

As she steps closer, Nameless says, “Let me check for traps first.” He casts _detect magic_ and then it’s his turn to whistle. Magical auras of various kinds spread across the room, creating a spider-web of overlapping spells and dweomers.

“Nobody move!” warns Nameless. “There’s magic all over this place.” Everybody goes stock-still, though the eladrins look more intrigued than concerned. 

After some moments of concentration, Nameless says, “I don’t think there are any immediately dangerous ones, though the three doors have what I think are _glyphs of warding_. By the way, the rug’s heavily magical too.”

Careful experimentation reveals that the existing spells seem to be mostly maintenance-related, restoring breathable air in the area, slowly cleaning the area, and repairing damage to it. There is also a single powerful abjuration that blocks teleportation type magic into and out of the area.

“In that case, I wonder how they got in here?” says Korm. “Maybe there’s an entrance elsewhere.”

Six, who has been carefully checking for tracks once Nameless said the area is safe, comments, “There’s been some traffic through here recently.” He points at the east and west doors. “Two pairs of tracks going either way. No tracks to or from the north door. The way the dust has collected here, I’d bet that this place hasn’t been used for ages, then saw some use for a bit, then not for a couple months or so, and then very recently again. Maybe just today.”

“Not bad tracking for a warforged,” says Kaelyn. “We see very few, and they rarely lean in that direction.” Then, turning to Nameless, she asks, “So – you know where these rakshasas are?”

“Well,” the alienist says, pointing east, “It’s in that direction somewhere.”

“So let’s go then!”

“Like I said, there’s a _glyph of warding_ on each door. Can you help get rid of them?”

Oberon, who has been watching silently with Titania, sighs and says, “Very well.” He stares at each of the doors in turn for a few seconds. “That should do it.”

Nameless confirms that the spells are gone and Korm carefully opens the door. 

As soon as he turns the handle, there is a strange sound, containing elements that both recall the grinding of stone across stone and the glutinous sucking sound of something emerging from a mud pit. Spinning around, the Angels see that the two rakshasa carvings are pulling themselves the rest of the way through the archways, revealing themselves to be complete statues. 

As each turns its two gemmed eyes, now lit by a dark flame in their depths, and steps towards the Angels, Nameless says, “Stone golems!”

The alienist hurriedly steps back to the far wall as his allies rush to the attack and _haste_s them.

Gareth and Luna, attacking separate golems, both have problems affecting their magically crafted stone. At least Kizmet’s abilities and the power he can put behind his two-handed chops lets the paladin inflict some damage. Luna’s claws scratch fruitlessly against the stone exterior of her target. A second later, a mighty fist smashes into her side with rib-cracking force, and Gareth stumbles as a similar blow dents his magical armor. 

“Let’s see how this works!” says Korm, stepping up to Gareth’s side, sword already in motion. The meteoric iron leaves a deep gash in the golem’s side and the big orc grins fiercely with satisfaction.

Six, meanwhile, has not attacked, quickly reaching for an item he has been carrying around since their visit to the island. “You said this was a _golembane scarab_, right?” he asks Nameless, as his magical haversack lets him retrieve the beetle-shaped object.

“Yes,” says Nameless. “You need to wear it to use it.”

“Okay.” Six tugs at the harness, also obtained on the island, so as to be able to fix the scarab to himself. Or rather, tries to. To his surprise, his metal fingers scrabble over the surface of the harness and fail to find a purchase. A quick check reveals that the harness, which he has not bothered to remove for weeks, has fused with his form. “What the hell?”

After another fruitless attempt, Six simply holds the scarab in his fist along with the spiked chain and slashes at the golem fighting Luna. Having realized that she cannot damage it, Luna has reared up and thrown both of her forepaws around it. Since the golem weighs twice as much as her, she cannot bring it down, but she manages to pinion one of its arms and makes it an easier target for Six.

To the warforged’s relief, his chain slashes a deep wound across the golem’s free arm. “The scarab works this way too!”

“Good to know,” says Nameless, looking around the chamber. Besides the battle, he sees the incongruous sight of Oberon and Titania standing next to each other and having a calm, unhurried conversation about the relative merits of the Angels. Kaelyn, standing near them, is silently eyeing Gareth.

Luckily, despite the lack of aid, Nameless’s companions do seem to be slowly winning, Korm’s and Six’s weapons gradually wearing down their opponents. The mindless nature of the golems also helps, since Gareth and Korm coordinate attacks so as to make the creature constantly switch targets. While its hammer-blows still cause damage, the fact that it is attacking whomever they choose to let it, means that a single one of the pair is not targeted. Nearby, Luna takes a more direct – if painful – approach, continuing to wrestle her golem and set it up for Six, who slashes away at it. The golem mindlessly tries to break away from her, while pounding the druid painfully with its free arm. Luna simply grits her teeth and accepts the punishment, grabbing it again when it breaks free and threatens to strike Six.

“Your friends are quite skilled,” says Titania conversationally to Nameless. “I think they will win. How long do you think it’ll take?”

“Maybe twenty seconds?” opines Nameless. “Faster, if you help,” he hints.

“They don’t seem to need it,” puts in Oberon dismissively. “But I think they will take longer.”

“No, I think he’s right,” says Titania, watching appreciatively as Korm is rocked back on his heels by a swinging fist.

“Care to bet on it?” says Oberon, a sparkle in his opalescent eyes. “Maybe bet a certain … little boy?”

Titania gives him a mildly disgusted look. “Not in this century! I already told you that you’re not getting him.”

Amused despite the situation, Nameless says, “I’ll take that bet. How about fifty galifars?”

Oberon smiles and says, “Done. Let’s give them twenty seconds from … now.”

“You’re betting on us now?” grunts Six, having noted the end of the interchange as he looks for an opening to attack without endangering Luna. “How about a spell or two?”

“Most of mine won’t work on them,” says Nameless. “Now kill them quick. I’ve got money on it!” _That_ haste _may make the difference_.

Just as he thinks it, the golem being wrestled by Luna stops for a moment, its eyes glowing brighter for a moment. Immediately, all of the Angels feel their movements slow, as the _haste_ fades away.

That is not enough to shift the balance, however, and a few seconds later, Korm drives his sword one last time into the spider-web of cracks that has covered his enemy’s chest. There is the groan of tortured stone and the cracks shoot out in every direction. A moment later, the golem falls apart, hitting the ground in a pile of fragments.

With that one down, Korm and Gareth join Six and the second golem is quickly dispatched, barely two seconds before Nameless’s time runs out. 

“Well-judged,” says Oberon, pulling a small gem from his belt and tossing it to Nameless. The alienist sees that it is a violet garnet and estimates it is worth ten times the amount of the bet.

“Now you’re done making money off us,” says a bloodied and battered Gareth, “You might want to grab those other gems too,” indicating the eye-gems that lie amongst pieces of the shattered golems. As Nameless steps towards them, he notices that the pieces of the golems are sinking slowly into the floor. He quickly grabs up the gems, but the rest of the stone pieces continue to melt into the stone below them.

“That was amusing,” says Titania. “I hope the rakshasas will be even more so.”

As she is speaking, the Angels realize that there has been a sudden shift in the direction of the Key. “Damn!” says Korm. “They must have _teleport_ed again!”

“I’ll try to work out the distance again,” says Nameless, as he flies out of the chamber through the hole above. He returns ten minutes later, which gives the others time to heal their wounds and for Gareth to be propositioned once more by Kaelyn, who seems to have been excited by his performance in the battle. Gareth rebuffs her again, leading to slightly irritated muttering about how a “druid has needs too!”

Nameless returns at this timely point. “It’s a little over three hundred miles to the northwest of us.”

Korm, who knows this area better than any of the others, looks at Nameless with a slightly concerned expression. “Northwest? That means…”

“Yes,” says Nameless grimly. “The Demon Wastes.”


----------



## Sidekick

Demon wastes!!!

Would you like fries with that? or perhaps a life insurance policy. 

now would be the appropriate time to start discussing what poeple want done with their bodies when they die.


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Demon wastes!!!
> 
> Would you like fries with that? or perhaps a life insurance policy.
> 
> now would be the appropriate time to start discussing what poeple want done with their bodies when they die.



 But at least there are no gnomes! See - always a silver lining.

And here's the last bit from the previous session. I got slowed down this week with lots of grading. 

****************************************************************
Kaelyn lifts an amused eyebrow. “You need to go to the Demon Wastes? I presume then we won’t be seeing you again. You sure this is worth it?”

“Yes, we believe it is,” says Nameless.

“So you are sure the rakshasas are gone then?” asks Titania, sounding mildly disappointed.

“The Key is, and I think it’s safe to assume they went with it.”

“At least let us see what else is here then,” says Oberon. “There may be more entertainment.”

As the Angels move to the door, Luna growls, not in warning but to attract attention. Turning to look, they see her pointing to a spot on the carpet that her claws had ripped through during the battle. The carpet is slowly repairing itself, the torn spot fading as ripped threads reconnect themselves.

“Very nice!” says Six. “A self-repairing carpet. I presume you want us to take it, right?”

Luna gives Six a big ursine grin and a nod. The warforged picks up the carpet and stows it into a _bag of holding_.

“She’s probably thinking of the apartment in Sharn,” says Gareth, which gets an even more emphatic nod.

“Great!” mutters Korm. “We’re taking home furnishings from rakshasas now!”

With that taken care of, the group proceeds carefully through the door. Over the course of the next hour, to the apparent disappointment of the eladrin and, to a lesser extent, Kaelyn, they search through the entire complex, finding no signs of any other enemies. 

Much of the area has clearly not seen recent usage. Among the rooms in this category are a small dining room, designed for two diners, and an almost empty pantry, both to the north of the chamber with the golems. 

The single room to the west leads into an empty chamber with no other exits, its walls decorated with pictures of spellcasting rakshasas, and a single large pentagram carved into the floor. This room is free of the abjuration which blocks teleportation-type magic in the area, evidently used for magically entering and leaving the complex. Though the room is magically kept clean, there is enough of a trace for Six to identify that two pairs of booted feet traveled from the center of the pentagram to the door very recently, probably only hours ago.

Behind the eastern door are the more interesting rooms. One is a comfortably appointed sitting room, though this one too has not seen much use. It is very quickly stripped of two smaller versions of the large self-repairing carpet, these ones also bearing examples of stylized, abstract artwork.

Beyond this one is a bedroom, the most lavish chamber that they have seen so far. Here they find the first clear indication of recent activity, with some clothes from an open pair of cabinets strewn on the two beds, and open drawers and empty chests littering the room. Checking for magic in the chamber, Nameless _detect_s a number of lingering auras.

While he is doing so, Six finds a smaller hidden chamber underneath the room, completely empty and featureless except for a concealed (now empty) compartment. This area is also free of the teleportation-blocking abjuration.

“There’s a conjuration aura here too,” says Nameless. “This is where they must have _teleport_ed out of. Nice system – keep a little bolt-hole that you can use for escapes. I assume that compartment held an escape package.”

Luna, having changed back to shifter form, looks down at him and says, “Yeah, yeah, they’re really smart – I got it! More importantly…,” she holds up a rolled rug, “We got more carpets! For the apartment!”

Gareth, still examining the bedroom, comments, “You know, you’re way more interested in interior decoration than I would have guessed.”

Six and Korm, who have gone through the other door out of the room, reappear. “Nameless – we need you to look at this.”

Following them, the group enters the largest chamber in the area, apparently a huge arcane laboratory. It too seems not to have been used for a long time, large sheets having been pulled over the long desks and tables in the area, pulled aside in a couple of places to reveal the equipment, reagents and other paraphernalia that they cover. A doorless antechamber set into the middle of the far wall has a half-drawn curtain separating it from the main chamber.

Most eye-catching of all is a huge map that stretches across one of the walls, intricately painted and carved (since it is slightly three-dimensional, protruding an inch from the wall). Nameless eyes it carefully and says, “That’s the Demon Wastes. Is that what you wanted me to look at?”

“No – this,” says Korm, walking over to the antechamber and pulling the curtain the rest of the way across, to reveal a chamber ten feet long and wide. Unlike the walls of the laboratory, which are the same gray color as the rest of the complex, these walls have a bone-white pallor. And they are covered in some kind of writing. There is no sign of what implement was used, but the thin streams of blood-red letters, interspersed with diagrams and figures, cover the entire area.  

“I’m thinking this could be important,” says Korm, “But we can’t read it.”

Nameless walks over and studies the walls for a few seconds. “It’s infernal. But in an extremely archaic script.” Just a little smugly, he adds, “I can work it out.” He turns in place, running his eyes quickly over the various sections. Then he stops suddenly. “Gareth!”

“What?”

“Gareth,” repeats Nameless. “It says ‘Gareth’ here.” He reaches up and touches a particular line, running his finger over it. “This bit says….”

The alienist stops abruptly. As his finger passes over the stone, the script beneath his fingers disappears, leaving blank whiteness behind. Intrigued, Nameless runs his finger over the stone again, this time pushing down on it. This time, a red streak appears behind the finger.

“Fascinating!” says Nameless. “This thing is like a giant piece of reusable parchment. You write on it by exerting pressure and erase what’s written by rubbing over it.” He points at the rest of the writing. “You just need a stylus or even a pointed stick and you can use this entire chamber as your writing pad.”

“Or a claw,” says Six, indicating how thin and precise the red lines are.

“Yes, a claw.”

“That’s all very interesting,” says Gareth, the tone belying the words, “But what did it say about me?”

Nameless rolls his eyes and then goes back to the wall. “Actually it mentions…,” he runs his eyes over the wall, “…all of us.” His fingers stab at various points, making sure not to actually touch them. “Six. Luna. Korm. Me. Even Corven.” 

“This really irritates me,” growls Luna. “I hate people following our moves.”

Nameless studies the writing a little further and, though his expression doesn’t change, his tone grows slightly more clipped. “Not following. Predicting.”

“What?”

Nameless points at a particular section that has a complicated diagram, stretching from where the wall meets the ceiling, eight feet above, to the floor. “Gareth. And me. We’re listed there. And there are arrows joining us, with smaller ones joining Six and Corven to me. And where they first meet, it says ‘Mugging.’”

“Mugging,” says Gareth slowly, clearing not liking what he is thinking. “You three helped me when I was attacked by muggers. So what makes you think that’s not just a listing of info. Why’s it a prediction?”

“Because of the following bit where it lists ‘Travel to Sharn’ among three possibilities and marks that the most likely.”

“Great. Where do I come in?” asks Luna.

Nameless continues to point out details. “The section after that draws connections between us and people in Sharn. Lalia and Tasra. Trillia. Many others. I think it’s mostly predictions again. There are a few names I don’t recognize, and there are symbols I think representing the chances of the various relationships happening.”

“You didn’t mention me,” reminds Luna.

“I’m getting to it. You come in … here.” Nameless smiles slightly. “This should make you happy. I don’t think that was expected. It looks like something was erased and your name added, and there’s a comment saying ‘New addition,’ next to it.”

“Good to know,” grunts Luna.

Nameless looks a little closer and then says, “Except that there’s then a small section saying, ‘potential link to Gatekeepers’. Which then…,” he follows a particular looping of complicated lines and symbols, and says, “…later brings in Gurr’khan, Surr’kal, and Trillia. That’s around where you come in, Korm. Corven seems to … let me see … yes, he disappears after that.”

“I knew meeting you bunch would get me in trouble,” grunts Korm. “So, is it all just about us?”

“No,” says Nameless, turning again to look at various sections. “This bit is all about astrological positions. And here’s a small chart of names I don’t recognize. This is a list of names by location. All in Breland, but not Sharn. And this one is a really big list of people in Sharn. With all sorts of connections drawn between them.” He runs his eyes up and down the list and says, “Just about everyone we know, and then some.”

“Hold on,” says Six, thinking of something. “Is Kylian in there?”

Nameless checks and shakes his head. “No.”

“Wonderful,” says the big warforged. “Even the rakshasas can’t track the damn gnomes! Or don’t want to risk it.”

“Well, Thurik Davandi’s listed, if that makes you feel any better.”

“You might think so, but no, not really.”

“And guess what … surprise, surprise … here’s a listing of people we got involved with on the trip to Xen’drik.”

Luna, who has got bored with these details, has wandered over to the tables to remove the covers and check the contents. Now, she interrupts. “Hey, guys! Here’s something else that might be interesting.” In her hands is a crumpled collection of parchments. “I found these behind those instruments.”

She continues, “Nameless will need to read it,” as she riffles through and tries to straighten the pages. “It’s the same as on those walls, so I can’t read….” Then she stops, looks carefully at a page, flips to the next one and the one after that, flips back, and begins to read over them again.

“Found something in Common?”

“Yes. And a few other languages. Elven and orcish, I think. Does this sound familiar?” Slowly, Luna reads aloud:

“Prophecy dances around you. Some fulfill, some are fulfilled, and some flee - the choice is yours. Where present and future spark, where light is turned to dark, to the ghost of the city where the past await. The chamber may hold you, make you or break you. Beyond sky and sea you go, but only to your roots return. Face dream and madness, dust and death; use them against each other, as they use you. You already carry destruction within you, but without it you may fail. The sword is the key, but the key is not the sword. Dragon's wings.”

“Oh hells!” says Gareth. “They even have a record of the prophecy Flamewind gave us?”

“Not just Flamewind, remember?” reminds Six. “That Teraza woman … who you said is a hag … the one associated with Daask … she wrote something like that for us too.”

“It’s not a record,” says Luna. “It’s the final version.”

“Huh?”

“Drafts,” says Luna, her tone turning angry, as she rips out the pages that she has been flipping through and holds them up. “I just read you the final version. The rest are drafts. Earlier versions. Starting with just a couple of sentences and slowly getting to the final version. With notes on the sides about all the ways it can be interpreted and what groups it could be thought to refer to. We got the final version.” Her tone is no louder, but is livid by the end, “The best one.”

“These guys wrote the prophecy we got months ago?”

“Yes. But not months ago. There are dates next to the drafts. The first one is five years old. The last one’s three years old.” Luna tosses the papers to Six, looks up at the ceiling, clenches her fists and snarls. “Grrahghh! I hate the feeling that someone’s been controlling me!”

Kaelyn, who has been listening silently, and partly uncomprehendingly, with the two eladrin, finally says, “I don’t quite understand, but this _is_ somewhat entertaining.”

Luna turns to her with a growl, but Korm is there to grab the shifter by the arm before she can do something Kaelyn, and then probably the Angels, will regret.

Nameless, having picked up the parchments, says, “Finish searching this place while I take notes from the wall and of the map. There might be some other useful things like these papers in here.”

He is right, but the other discovery has no resemblance to the papers. Among the many things they find in the laboratory is a large basin that holds four preserved limbs, two arms and two legs. Moments afterwards, they find the source.

Lying on its back under a covering cloth like just another piece of equipment is the torso of a humanoid figure. It lacks not only arms and legs, but ends at the waist. Moreover, it has been skinned, revealing muscle and flesh that has dried and mummified over time. The one addition is a thick strip of muscular flesh that has grown over the mouth and teeth, making it impossible for the creature, whatever it was originally, to speak or even make a sound.

As if that were not enough, its eyelids have been removed, leaving the blankly staring eyes in their sockets, without any way to close. To the horror of Luna, who is the one to find it, the eyes are alive, rolling wildly and madly, with no signs of recognizing her or the fact that there are now people around it.*

After a few seconds of studying it, Gareth says, “I should try to see what it is thinking. It may help in our quest.”

Korm looks into the eyes, clearly insane, and grunts, “Better you than me.”

Gareth breathes a quick prayer to the Flame and concentrates, reaching into the creature’s mind. And then recoils, rubbing his temples. “Damn! All I pick up on the surface is pain. Whatever it is that’s keeping it alive in this state, it hurts. A lot!”

“Let’s just put it out of its misery,” says Luna.

“Yes,” says Gareth, “We should. But there was something beneath the surface. I should make sure.” He takes a deep breath and then concentrates again, mentally gritting his teeth as he delves into the creature’s tortured and fractured mind, or what remains of it. For a couple of seconds, Gareth pushes mentally through the barrier of pain, almost retching in reaction as he feels himself surrounded by a miasma of endless ripping, tearing pain. Grasping quickly at whatever floats in the mist of pain, the paladin finds two words – which he realizes are names – being repeated constantly, “Zathara” and “Nethatar.” Besides that, there is only one endless roiling insane scream of pain.

When Gareth emerges from the contact, he is gasping for breath, the veins standing out on his forehead and a splitting headache raging within it. He draws Kizmet and says thickly, “Rest in peace,” before neatly decapitating the creature. 

Its head rolls on the floor, revealing that even the internal sections of the creature had been mummified. For a few seconds, the eyes continue to roll, making the Angels wonder if even this will not kill it. But then, thankfully, they slowly roll up and go blank.

“Have you got everything, Nameless?” asks Gareth.

“Yes.” Nameless looks over at Oberon and Titania, who seem to have lost their normal state of flippancy with this particular sight. “Can you destroy this place?”

“Yes,” says Oberon. “I will.”

Kaelyn, who also now seems more serious than she has been at any point previously, says, “And while we will not go to the Wastes, we will help you along the way. It looks like you could use it.”

*****
A little over two hours later, the Angels stand over a hundred miles to the northwest, in an open, sparsely wooded area. To their south and east runs a chain of mountains, spanning the horizon. Kaelyn, standing near them, points north and west, to the highland plateau they are on the edge of, a network of canyons and mesas forming a giant natural maze.

“That is the Labyrinth. Beyond lie the Demon Wastes. This is as far as we can take you.” With uncharacteristic seriousness, she bows. “It has been an interesting meeting. Luck to you. You will need it.”

Then she walks over to join Oberon and Titania, sitting their horses and watching silently a short distance away. They too bow slightly, and then all three shimmer and turn shadowy, gradually fading into the vegetation around them.

“As they said,” grunts Korm, “That was interesting.” He turns to gaze at the Labyrinth. “Why do I get the feeling the next few days will be even more so?”


* This is when Luna’s player said OOC,  “What the hell is it with all these damn creatures?” and Gareth’s player said, “It’s not them. It’s just Shil!” Guilty as charged


----------



## shilsen

While the others set up a camp, Nameless again flies back and forth for about an hour, trying to triangulate the location of the Key. As far as the alienist can make out, the general location has not changed from what he deduced at the rakshasa lair. He also realizes, as he had feared, that while the link to the Key has not grown any weaker, it has grown less precise, now providing an approximate area stretching about a mile in width. The distance to their current location is approximately three hundred miles, putting it maybe a hundred miles into the Wastes proper, well beyond the Labyrinth itself.

After Nameless returns and informs the others what he has discovered, they settle down for the night. Sleep comes quickly to the tired group, despite the weather, which is comparatively cold after their time in the hot stickiness of the Marches and the comfortably temperate nature of the Reaches, and the constant soft hissing of the wind out of the Labyrinth, like hungry breath indrawn between sharp teeth*.

Only Six waits, unsleeping as ever, through the night. He is also the only one to notice anything untoward. During the second watch, he notices a tiny bloom of flame, far to the north, which dies away instantly. Having seen enough of them, Six recognizes it as a _fireball_, and though it is impossible to accurately judge the distance, he estimates it must be maybe dozens of miles into the Labyrinth. 

Just before dawn, when Six and Nameless, who joined him on the last watch, are waking the others, the alienist feels a magical force attempt to affect his mind. He easily fights off the effect, instantly recognizing that the effect is akin to a _nightmare_ spell. But something is very different. Still trying to decipher the strange pattern, Nameless calls a warning. “Watch out! Someone used … tried to use … a spell on me.”

The warning is unnecessary. As he speaks, a shimmering shape appears five feet from Nameless, quickly resolving itself into a semi-transparent figure. It is the spellcaster from their previous day’s battle, still in his orc form. As the others grab at weapons and prepare to hurl spells, Nameless says quickly, “Don’t bother. It’s an illusion. Modified _project image _, I think.” 

The image eyes Nameless, and then looks around at the others. If it cannot actually see them, then it is putting on a brilliant act of doing so. Then it says, “I see you are still alive. I am not sure how you did, but it was rude of you to follow me. In case you didn’t realize it, you are no longer a concern of mine. And since you are no longer tied to the Key, you are free of it. Appreciate the freedom and go your way.”

“I have a better idea,” says Korm. “We’ll find you and kill you, take back the Key, and turn you and your friend into Rakshasa-skin rugs.” 

As the others chuckle, the image says calmly, “I assumed after your visit yesterday that now you know what I am, but I didn’t want to assume. Anyway, that makes things more convenient.” The figure’s features shift and reform, stretching and growing, developing fangs and a covering of pale white fur marked with black stripes, until a rakshasa looks back at the Angels. “That’s better,” he says.

The response from the Angels isn’t quite what he might have expected. Nameless says dryly, “You’re white. That’s good – it’ll match our drapes.”

For a second, the rakshasa looks as close to flabbergasted as a humanoid tiger can. He looks to his side, as if speaking to an invisible watcher, and says, “They really are …”

“Insane?” completes Korm, with a broad smile, “Yes, we got that already. As you should know, considering how long you’ve apparently been sniffing along behind us. Try again.”

The rakshasa shakes its head and then says, “As I was saying, consider this a warning. You have already fought me twice … well, the first time doesn’t really count, but still … and survived. Don’t tempt fate with a third time.”

“Well,” says Gareth, in a matter of fact tone, “We could just as easily say that you have actually survived meeting us twice.”

“And,” adds Nameless, “You’re talking to us right now, rather than just coming here and trying to kill us.”

This time, the rakshasa actually smiles slightly, though it is a little difficult to differentiate that from a snarl on its fanged face. “You people truly are fascinating.” He turns in place, until he faces northwest, where the Labyrinth still lies mostly in shadow, its eastern face barely lit by the rising sun. “And,” he adds, “You are actually heading into the Demon Wastes. Truly fascinating.”

Then he looks around at them. “So, tell me – do you have a location in mind or are you planning to search all of the Wastes?”

“That’s a boring question,” interrupts Six. “Let’s talk of something more interesting. What’s your plan? What do you want to do with the Key?”

The rakshasa turns to look at him and smirks. “You have got to be joking. And that’s hardly a concern of yours right now.”

“Come on,” persists Six, “You know you’re dying to tell somebody, so it might as well be us.”

The rakshasa simply stares at him, causing Nameless to put in, “Would it help if we let you capture us and tie us all up in your secret volcano lair?”

This comment actually draws a chuckle. “Very well,” says the rakshasa, “I promise you all, if you do follow me, I will tell the last one to die what my master plan is.”

Luna, who has mostly been standing by and grinning at her companions’ comments, says, “Damn! Now we have to make a plan – who’s going to have the fun of being the last one to die, find out this idiot’s plans and kick his ass?”

As hands get raised and mock arguments begin, the rakshasa wearily raises a clawed hand. “This is clearly a waste of time. Nevertheless, I tell you one last time. Do not pursue me. If you do, we will meet one last time. And then you will die.” The image shimmers and then quickly fades away.

“I ask you,” says Luna, with a big smile, “Can we talk smack or can we talk smack?”

As the others laugh and begin to go about their business, Six asks, “You think he’s really concerned about us following him?”

“No way to be sure,” says Nameless, “But he did seem curious about how we’re following him. And he didn’t just _scry_ us, which I’m sure he could easily do, and _teleport_ in and attack.”

“And we did fight them to pretty much a standstill last time.”

“Well,” says Nameless, “They did have the Key, so they weren’t exactly trying to fight to a finish, and he was barely touched, but we did take some serious chunks out of his girlfriend. Still, I wouldn’t like to predict anything about this one.”

“I’m sure we’ll find out eventually,” says Gareth, breathing a silent prayer to the Flame that he will have the rakshasa facing Kizmet’s blade soon. As he does, he feels a thrill of anticipation from the sword.

The Angels make their usual preparations and, a little over an hour later, are getting ready to leave the camp. As they are doing so, Six – who is always ready first, having no need to either prepare spells or eat and drink – points at the wooded area to the east. “Look!”

About two hundred feet from them, a large patch of shadow quickly darkens and grows, resolving itself into the shape of an eladrin mounted on a fey steed, with Gurr’khan standing beside it. This eladrin is not Oberon or Titania, and his visage, though handsome, is less luminous than them. He looks over the group with a frankly curious eye and then says, “Greetings. Here is your friend. I have messages too. The lord Oberon says that the lair has been returned to the forest.” 

Then he points to Gareth. “Kaelyn Windsong says that your fellow worshippers have been released.” His tone becomes slightly amused, as he continues, “And that you don’t know what you missed, and that she hopes it dries up and falls off.” With that, he nods, concentrates, and quickly fades back into shadow.

Chuckles follow the delivery of the last message, and Nameless says, “Not like you were getting any use out of it, anyway.” Gareth doesn’t bother to dignify the comment with an answer.

Gurr’khan walks over to join them, shaking his head and looking a little irritated. “Damn Greensingers and fey! I cannot believe they actually petrified me!” Then he shakes his head again and says, “That Windsong woman said you found the rakshasas’ lair but they got away. And that you think they are in the Demon Wastes.” He sits down. “What happened?”

The Angels spend some time going over all the details, with attendant questions, comments and the odd grimace from Gurr’khan. He is especially interested in their rendition of the morning conversation with the rakshasa. Nameless finishes with, “And we were getting ready to head in after it.”

Gurr’khan looks pleased and says, “Then you have already decided what I was going to ask you to do. Thank you. Since you apparently still have the link and have a general direction, it makes sense that you continue pursuing the Key. I do not know the Wastes and cannot transport you there – or back, quite likely, considering what I believe is the case with vegetation, or its lack, there. So I shall be returning to Saala, as she had wanted me to do, to let her know what has happened. We will find a way to contact you and follow with aid as soon as we can.” He grimaces. “It will be difficult. The Demon Wastes are far beyond where the Gatekeepers roam, especially in these days. Still, we will do whatever we can. Is there anything else I can help you with before I go?”

A couple of the Angels request spells or weapons that will be especially good against rakshasas or the other creatures they might encounter in the Wastes. Gurr’khan says, “I will see what we can do.” Then he reaches into a pouch and produces the small hardwood carving (of a smiling, pot-bellied orc with both arms stretched above his head) that they have seen and used before, and gives it to Nameless. “You can probably get more use out of this right now than I will.” 

After handing it over, Gurr’khan bids the Angels goodbye, wishes them good luck and departs in his usual manner, finding a tree large enough to enter and doing so.

*****
Over two hours later, the Angels are cantering through the Labyrinth on the backs of four magical mounts, two horses and two stags, seemingly solid but with legs that end in insubstantial, smoke-like hooves. 

Around them the vast network of canyons and mesas stretches hundreds of feet high, forming a natural maze of stone. Now that they are actually within it, the wind in the canyons is louder, varying from a soft, constant hissing, which is the most common, all the way to heights that resemble the keening of a hundred banshees and is physically painful. Luckily, the speed of their mounts takes the group quickly through the short sections where the wind is at its loudest.

Sound is not the only thing that is strange here. Errant scents waft around them, though they are usually quickly left behind. At one point, the air around the riders inexplicably fills with the smell of fresh blood, though there is no sign of a source. More common is the smell of sulphur, which seems to linger in pockets around the area. 

One source for the sulphurous smell is quickly evident. Nameless’s _phantom stag_, having taken the lead, makes a sharp turn to suddenly be confronted by a rush of heat and a twenty foot wide stream of lava flowing across his path. Even before the startled mage can react, his mount leaps smoothly into the air and over the barrier of liquid flame, landing with barely any impact a full fifty feet further down the canyon and continuing without even a momentary decrease in speed. As he calls back a warning, the others experience the same.

The Angels see a couple more lava flows as they go on, usually rising from one of the broad cracks and crevasses that they sometimes encounter. Though they never stop to investigate, they note in passing that some of the breaks in the earth drop away beyond the limits of their sight, and Nameless comments that legend says some of them lead down to Khyber. 

Though the rocky, often rubble-strewn terrain doesn’t hinder the magical mounts at all, what does slow them slightly is the mazelike nature of the terrain, sometimes requiring them to stop and retrace their steps from a blind or impassable canyon. This would be much more the case if it were not for Luna. As the others ride, she flies overhead as an eagle, keeping an eye on the area they will pass through and flying down to indicate whether they should take or avoid a particular turn.

Six looks at her speculatively, as she soars by. “Is it just my imagination,” he says, “Or is she a little chubbier in eagle form than she used to be?”

As the others laugh, Six follows with a quick, “Oh, damn!” as the keen-eared druidess gives a loud screech and does a wingover.

What saves him from swift feathery wrath is the sudden scream from a side canyon that they are passing. It is a wordless shriek of extreme agony, and is followed by another, female voice. “Help! Help m…,” it begins, before being cut off suddenly. 

As the mounts race by, the Angels exchange glances. “Should we…,” begins Six, but Korm says, “No. There was something strange about that voice.” Nameless and Gareth nod in corroboration. Six shrugs and they continue onward.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, the incident is almost forgotten, when Luna lets out a loud screech. Even as she does so, most of her companions notice movement to the side and high above, out of the corner of their eyes. Looking up, they see a pair of large dragon-like creatures diving off the top of a nearby cliff and soaring downwards, small but muscular wings flapping awkwardly, disproportionately large jaws agape to display gleaming rows of fangs.

Nameless cries to his mount to stop, and as the magical creature responds instantly, he notes the mottled gray and brown plates and the spikelike protuberances that cover the creatures’ bodies, and the long forked tails stretching behind them, each tipped with a pair of scythelike bone blades. 

“Fang dragons!” he shouts, even as he makes the motions of a spell. A second later, a _fireball_ blooms around them, followed instantly by a pair of _flame strike_s from 
the druids. One of the dragons screams as it is badly burned, but the other is barely scorched, dodging the bulk of one blast, while the other two fizzle harmlessly against its innate magical resistance.

The dragons dive down to attack, the more wounded one choosing Nameless and the other Korm. Though their magical protections deflect the slashing jaws, each is wounded, as the dragons come to a clumsy landing near them, now lashing out with multiple limbs.

“Watch out for the claws and tail!” warns Nameless, “They like to knock enemies off their feet!” The warning is underlined as the bony tail slams into his chest and knocks him off the magical stag. A second later, Korm joins him on the ground.

Six, having dismounted already, moves in to attack Nameless’s assailant, and quickly realizes that the dragon either has incredibly thick hide or is magically protected too, as his chain bounces off harmlessly. Gareth, charging in on his stag, has more success as the combination of his mount’s momentum and the grace of the Flame drives Kizmet into its shoulder. _Arc_s _of lightning_ from the two druids leap from dragon to dragon, but again, it is only the same one that is truly affected.

Badly wounded, the creature rears up and lashes out at Gareth, a flurry of fangs, claws and beating wings bringing the paladin to the ground in seconds, bleeding and unconscious. The dragon growls in triumph and lashes out with its tail at Nameless, catching the mage another wicked blow.

Though unconscious, Gareth at least has allies to provide a distraction. Korm has no such luck. The druid gives in to his berserker instincts, letting the rage take him. With a Herculean effort, Korm rolls over and drives his sword deep into his enemy’s leg. And then disappears beneath it, only sprays of blood indicating his position.

Still reeling from the blow, Nameless _summon_s a pseudonatural wolf, that slashes into the dragon beside him. As the dragon cries out in pain, Six rips into its other flank, and Luna brings a well-placed _flame strike_ down on its rear.

The dragon screams and staggers, breathing up a large gout of blood, and looks around frantically. Though relatively unhurt, its ally is too far away and too busy trying to kill the barely conscious orc to help. Though it will certainly be able to kill the mage, the risk is too great. The dragon loudly cries, in a thickly reptilian voice, “Wait! This is a mistake!”

Though the cry causes Six to pause, and Nameless to yell an order to his wolf to do the same, it is almost too late for Korm. Barely holding onto consciousness, he tries to summon his healing magic, but the crimson rage fueling him (ironically, the only reason he is still conscious) makes it too hard to concentrate. Korm swings one last time and then the dragon above him smashes its foot down, driving the claws into and smashing his skull**. As it does so, it hears the other dragon and stops, one foot still holding the dying druid. “We’re talking to them now? Why?”

The other dragon glares at its companion with its orange eyes, rimmed in red. Then it turns quickly, as Nameless asks, “A mistake?” The mage comes carefully to his feet and steps away, commanding the snarling wolf to step between him and the wounded dragon. He points at Gareth, whom Six is already bending over, and then to Korm. “A mistake?”

“Yes, yes,” says the dragon hurriedly. “We … thought you were someone else. It was an error.”

As it is speaking, Luna dives down, landing atop Korm. The dragon beside him instinctively raises a claw and Nameless calls, “Don’t do it! She’s one of us.”

“Yes!” quickly adds the dragon beside him, in a friendly tone. “We don’t want to harm them by mistake.”

The other dragon simply grunts derisively, and then steps back quickly as Luna screeches and waves a claw, encasing Korm in a magical _cocoon_, barely seconds before he expires. As the healing magic begins its task, she flies over to Gareth and revives him with another spell.

As the paladin rises groggily, Nameless asks the dragon, “Who did you think we were?” Remembering what happened with the River Snakes in the Marches, he adds, “You didn’t meet two people who said to kill us, did you?”

A look of reptilian confusion flashes across the dragon’s bloodied visage. “No. We simply … er, thought you were enemies of ours.”

Noting its wounds and demeanor, Gareth thinks, _It’s lying. And just trying to save its hide._ One look at the dragon’s scorched and slashed form explains why.

“What enemies?” asks Nameless.

“Umm … nobody in particular. We have many enemies. Anyway, we apologize for the error. We will leave now, and let you go then. Yes?”

“Very we…,” begins Nameless, when the sudden sound of spellcasting interrupts. Two voices. Which are instantly drowned by the sounds of loud war-cries in orcish.

The Angels spin around to see eight people charging them from the head of the canyon, brandishing weapons. Two more stand behind them among the rocks, each completing a spell, and a blast of light leaps from each man’s hand. One strikes the badly wounded dragon right between the eyes, searing into its brain, and it collapses. The other strikes the second dragon, burning its wing.

It screams in pain and, despite the wound, takes awkwardly to the air, flapping its way upwards. A couple of the attackers stop and fire arrows at it, which bounce off its hide.

Quickly realizing that they are not attacking him and his allies, Nameless calls, “Let’s bring it down.” He casts quickly, bringing two giant, tentacle-ringed bees into existence around the dragon, which drive their stings into its hide. Luna quickly brings down one of her _flame strike_s on it, but it struggles onwards.

The two spellcasters strike it with _dispel magic_s, one of them calling out in surprise as his spell bounces back to strike him. The other’s magic has some effect, as a couple of the now constant arrows being fired at the dragon hit home. Though they inflict little damage, the creature has taken many wounds, and though almost weeping with fear and pain, continues to flap onwards.

Just as it is about to disappear above the crest of the canyon, a completely healed and now winged Korm emerges angrily from the _cocoon_. “Where is that bloody son of a lizard?” 

Seeing it above him, Korm flaps into the air, raising his sword. With a word of command, he hurls the blade, sending it slashing through the air. As the dragon reaches the canyon top, the sword hits home, burying itself hilt-deep into the base of its neck. With a strangled scream, the creature turns turtle in mid-air and crashes back down, landing near Six.

As it falls, the new arrivals stalk forward. Now that they have leisure to study them, the Angels can see that they are mostly orcs, with two half-orcs and two humans. All wear studded leather, and are heavily armed, wielding bow, spear and sword. Only the leader, a tall young orc, wears metal armor, a breastplate decorated with the stylized image of a flame with three tendrils. Copies of the same image decorate each of his thick arms, and the others bear similar sigils, as well as tribal markings. Most of them also bear an unusually large number of scars.

Korm turns to them as they advance and says, “Thank you.”

The leader stops and considers him silently, before saying, in accented but understandable Common, “Thank you. We had been pursuing them for a long time.”

Nameless, walking over, asks, “Who are you?” _Though I think I know._

“We are the Ghash’kaala. And you are in our home.”


* Catch the allusion? 

** Though the dragon had initiative, I gave Mike (Korm’s player) a 50% chance to have the other dragon manage to stop the attack. With his usual luck, he blew it, and it took him past -10. Makes it the 21st “death” in 42 sessions, so I’m keeping to my standard 2 sessions per PC use of action pts to stave off death.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> the constant soft hissing of the wind out of the Labyrinth, like hungry breath indrawn between sharp teeth*.
> 
> * Catch the allusion?




Is there something past the obvious?



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> “I have a better idea,” says Korm. “We’ll find you and kill you, take back the Key, and turn you and your friend into Rakshasa-skin rugs.”
> 
> As the others chuckle, the image says calmly, “I assumed after your visit yesterday that now you know what I am, but I didn’t want to assume. Anyway, that makes things more convenient.” The figure’s features shift and reform, stretching and growing, developing fangs and a covering of pale white fur marked with black stripes, until a rakshasa looks back at the Angels. “That’s better,” he says.
> 
> The response from the Angels isn’t quite what he might have expected. Nameless says dryly, “You’re white. That’s good – it’ll match our drapes.”




I was really pleased with the drapes line.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Is there something past the obvious?




If by "obvious" you mean _Lord of the Rings_, where Frodo and Sam are being followed by Gollum shortly before they first mee thim, then no.



> I was really pleased with the drapes line.




That was a damn good one. I've encountered some nice smack-talking from PCs and done some myself, and you guys did some of the best I've heard. That's one thing this group is really good at - confusing powerful NPCs with your smack talking.

And now, on to the next instalment:

*********************************************************************
 “Ghaash’kala?” asks Korm, working out the rough translation in his mind. _Ghost guardians?_

“They live in the Labyrinth, I believe,” says Nameless, “Fighting the creatures of the Wastes.”

“You are well informed,” says the Ghaash’kala leader. “I am Morran Shashaarat. We are of the Maruk Ghaash’kala. We dwell here, facing the darkness, ensuring that the taint of the Wastes may not spread to the rest of Khorvaire. Nothing may leave the Wastes without facing us.” The tone is matter of fact, but there is the tiniest hint of pride. He pauses, looking over the Angels. “Or enter.”

_Maruk_, thinks Korm. _The Mighty_. “Interesting.” He notes that four of the Ghaash’kala, after ensuring that the dragons are dead, are moving to either end of the canyon and looking around the area. The others stand in a loose semi-circle around their leader and the Angels, and while none look threatening, each holds a drawn weapon. 

Korm points to the corpses. “You said you were hunting these?”

“Yes. They have killed my people before and we have wanted to kill them for long. We almost captured them, but they escaped. They are sly and tricky creatures. They can mimic any sound they have heard.”

The Angels exchange glances, realizing that must have been the source of the cries for help they had heard earlier, as Morran continues, “And they are powerful fighters. You must be skilled to have hurt them so badly.”

“Not too bad on your side either,” says Nameless. “Those spells were quite handy.”

“Kalok Shash gives us its blessing.”

“Kalok Shash?”

“The Binding Flame.” Morran taps the sigil on his armor for emphasis. “Kalok Shash is what we are sworn to. It gives us the power to hold these lands. We live for the Flame. We die for the Flame.” There is something about Morran’s matter of fact demeanor that makes the comments seem grim, where they might have otherwise seemed overly flamboyant.

“Flame?” asks Gareth.

Morran looks at the markings on the paladin’s armor and says, “You worship the Silver Flame, then? We have seen some of your people in the past. I do not know much about it, but the sar’malaan has said that what you call the Silver Flame is Kalok Shash to us.”

“Really?” says Six, intrigued. “Shouldn’t you know that, Gareth?”

“Never heard of it before, or of Kalok Shash,” says Gareth with a shrug.

“And here I thought they made you actually read books at the seminary,” smirks Nameless.

“Maybe,” grins Gareth, “But I was home schooled.”

Morran interrupts. “Tell me – what are you doing here? Are you here to answer the call of Kalok Shash?”

“Not that I know of,” says Nameless. “We are pursuing two rakshasas, who stole something of ours.”

“Into the Wastes?”

“Yes.”

“You are chasing rakshasas into the Wastes,” repeats Morran, sounding curious, rather than surprised. “The Ghaash’kala fight them more often than any people in this world. You are very brave or very foolish.”

“Yes,” grins Korm.

“What did they steal? It must be very valuable.”

Nameless hesitates, and then says, “Yes. It is something powerful and important to us.”

Six says, “Wait a minute. Why don’t we tell them everything? All the people who shouldn’t know about it already do. We might as well start talking to people who can help. And anyone who lives here and fights rakshasas is someone who might be able to help us.”

Nameless considers for a moment, and then says, “You know what – you’re right. Morran, do you have any leaders we can speak to?”

“Yes,” says Morran. “As I said, we do not look kindly on anything entering the Wastes, since, when it tries to leave, it brings the taint with it. But, in view of your help with the dragons, I wish you to come with me. I cannot make a decision, but my brother, Torgaan can. He is our kizshmit, the war leader. And Lharc Shushaa, our sar’malaan, she who speaks to Kalok Shash, should hear you too.”

“Excellent. Then let’s go.”

“Hold on,” says Korm. “Not before I get some dragon steak.” The eagle Luna, perched on his shoulder through the conversation, screeches her agreement.

Morran smiles for the first time. “I would have said that if you had not. Such large meals are not to be wasted.” As he signals, a number of the Ghaash’kala head for the dragon corpses, reaching into bags and sheathes to remove large chopping blades. “Once this is done, I shall take you to…”

*****
“…Maruk Dar,” says Morran, pointing upwards. “This is our home and main fortress, though we have many smaller outposts scattered around the Wastes.”

The Angels look up in the light of early evening, which is descending quicker than normal and casting long shadows within the deep gorges of the Labyrinth, at the home of the Maruk Ghaash’kala. Maruk Dar consists of a series of vertical levels carved out of the canyon wall, beginning fifty feet above them and rising in ascending steps until the highest one meets the cliff top two hundred feet above. The levels take advantage of the already sloping cliff, so that each one juts out about ten to twenty feet from the one above. 

On each level, there are numerous doorways and tunnel openings that lead into the rock face, and scores of the Ghaash’kala move in and out of them. Ropes hang down from each level to the next, apparently serving as the primary means of ascent and descent, though the odd ladder also provides an option for the less dexterous.

Dozens of armed warriors now stand looking down at the Angels, but having seen and been hailed by their escort, they now throw down rope ladders, allowing the Angels to half-climb and be half-pulled up to the lowest level, while their guides quickly shimmy up ropes beside them. As soon as they are on solid ground, Morran checks where the kizshmit and sar’malaan are, and, having been told they are on the third level, again leads the Angels upwards. While one member of their escort goes ahead to inform the kizshmit of the newcomers, the rest of their escort, most of them laden with fang dragon meat, skin and bone, quickly leaves them. Other Ghaash’kala quickly fall in behind them. 

As they proceed, Gareth says quietly to Korm, “For a ‘fortress’, I don’t see much in the way of fortifications.”

Overhearing the quiet comment, Marron says, “Fortifications would be difficult to build here. And they are not needed. We are the Ghash’kaala.” Again, though the statement is matter of fact, there is the slightest tinge of pride. “Even the Lords of Dust do not easily attack us here.”

“A place where rakshasas prefer not to attack?” says Six appreciatively, “I knew we should tell these guys everything!”

As they travel through the chambers and tunnels that lie hidden within Maruk Dar, the Angels notice the almost complete lack of internal decoration. Literally everything they see is utterly functional. The only decoration is the stylized sigil of Kalok Shash that appears on some of the walls, on many Ghash’kaala weapons and armor, and on each of the inhabitants. 

Eventually, they reach a chamber, different from the others in that it actually has a simple wooden door, unlike the simple curtains that are the only concession to privacy that the Ghaash’kala seem to have. Inside, sitting cross-legged on a pair of woven mats and talking, are a middle-aged woman, who wears a fist-size symbol of Kalok Shash around her neck, and a tall, scarred warrior, who bears a strong resemblance to Morran.

Morran, who leads them into the room, introduces the pair as Torgaan Shashaarat, the kizshmit, and Lharc Shushaa, the sar’malaan. Torgaan nods gravely and motions them to seats. “We have already been told of your coming. And you wish to speak to us?”

“Yes,” says Nameless, after the group is seated. “We are on a mission that I believe the Ghaash’kala might be interested in.” He proceeds, with the help of the others, to outline everything that has happened regarding the Key, from its discovery to the current moment. Torgaan, Lharc and Morran are quickly hanging on every word.

Finally, Nameless finishes, and asks, “Do you know of either Zathara or Nethatar?”

“No,” says Lharc, who has asked most of the questions, “But the names of our enemies are not something we usually learn. Your tale is very interesting. I have not heard of such a situation before, though we do sometimes meet people entering the Wastes. As Morran will have told you, we do not support such attempts. But yours is a strange matter. Torgaan and I need to speak of it before we make a decision. Either way, you should stay here tonight.”

“Thank you,” says Nameless, and the others do so as well. 

As they are about to leave, Lharc adds, “We will be having a short ceremony today, which you may find interesting. You are welcome to attend.”

The Angels are taken to a couple of large, sparsely furnished rooms on another level. After resting for a while, they leave and wander for a little while, studying the place and its inhabitants, who consist mainly of orcs, but also have a significant number of humans and half-orcs, as well as a few members of other races. 

The most noticeable thing about the Ghaash’kala is their martial nature. The majority of the people the Angels see wear armor, usually either leather or hide of some kind, with the rare metal version. Weapons are even more ubiquitous, with the only unarmed people they see being a few toddlers who are too young to walk. Even the very old, of which they see almost no examples, have a weapon belted on. Small children wear at least a knife, and those beyond the age of ten or so all carry larger weapons.

Six looks away from an armored woman, who is carrying a large earthen jar on one hip and wearing a hooked axe on the other, while holding the hand of a small boy of about eight, who is walking and spinning a spear with surprising skill. “These people are really ready to fight! I’ve never seen so many weapons in one place. Even the military never used to wear weapons all the time.”

Luna, now back in her normal form, says meditatively, “I just noticed something else. They never laugh. At least the adults don’t.”

Now that she mentions it, the others realize that they have not heard a single laugh since arriving here, except from one or two of the very small children while playing. There is a grimness to the Ghaash’kala, as well as a sense of focused purpose, which manifests in whatever they do. Whether weaving a blanket, or sparring with each other, or sharpening a weapon, or doing anything else, the Ghaash’kala seem to do so with a singularity of purpose that is almost frightening.

“Yes,” says Gareth, looking around. “It’s a little depressing. Like they all think they’re going to die.”

“No,” says Korm, whose own berserker soul finds an unexpected kinship to these people. “They _know_ they’re going to die. It’s just not important to them. They’re just focused on their work.”

“Sounds like you like them,” says Nameless.

“I do. I understand them.”

Shortly afterwards, the group joins Torgaan, Lharc, Morran and a couple hundred of their clan members in a large, partly open air chamber for the ceremony they were told of. It is a short affair, beginning with Lharc saying a prayer and pronouncing the blessing of Kalok Shash on those gathered. Then a dozen dancers, wearing stylized but simple masks, enact the history of the Ghaash’kala. It begins with the battles at the end of the Age of Demons, at the end of which the dragons bound the leaders of the fiends through the power of Kalok Shash, which was created through the sacrifice of the couatls. The primary land of the demons was destroyed and transformed into the Demon Wastes. Millennia later, orcish tribes were drawn by the call of Kalok Shash to the Labyrinth, where they accepted the grim task of guarding the rest of Khorvaire from the slowly growing taint of the Demon Wastes. They became the Ghaash’kala and divided into four, the Jaasakah (“Deadly”), Kastar (“Swift”), Maruk (“Mighty”) and Vanka (“Final”) clans. And there they have remained ever since, fighting and dying in an endless guardianship, so that the rest of the world does not have to.  

Once the ceremony is over, Lharc asks the Angels to join her and Torgaan. Once they are in a private chamber, she says, “We have considered your situation and we will help you as we can. We will let you pass and get the other clans to do so too. We will also give you what information we can. However….” She stops and turns to Torgaan.

The kizshmit says, “As Lharc was saying, however, we cannot let you leave the Wastes and carry its taint into the world. That is a part of our duty that we must fulfill. I tell you this in full honesty, so that you may be prepared. If you succeed in your quest, and I hope you do, and then try to leave, we will stop you.” The tone is not threatening or regretful, but simply sincere.

“What is this Taint?” asks Six. “Is it so bad that you would stop us even though we are all fighting the same enemy?”

“Yes, it is,” says Lharc, “And I cannot describe it in any clear way, since it changes for different people. The Wastes taint whatever enters, but does so in varying ways. We cannot risk letting that leave.”

“So let me get this right,” says Gareth, with a frown. “You would stop me, a paladin of the Silver Flame?”

Torgaan smiles slightly at the pride in Gareth’s voice. “And I am a paladin of Kalok Shash. Kalok Shash _is_ the Silver Flame, though you may call it by another name. There are more of what you call paladins here than even the place you call…,” he looks at Lharc, “…what is it?”

“Flamekeep,” she completes.

“Flamekeep. And yes, I would stop you.”

Lharc adds, “We are being completely honest about this, since we hope you understand. But, whether you do or not, this is how it must be.”

“Yes,” says Korm quickly, and with respect. “We understand. If that is how it must be, so be it. I respect your honesty – and your cause.”

“Thank you,” says Lharc. “Now that is covered, let us tell you what we know. Though few of our people go into the Wastes, some do, and we sometimes even have members of the Carrion Tribes respond to the call of Kalok Shash. So we have some knowledge of the area. Of the three places you mentioned, the Lake of Fire is one of the largest volcanoes, of which there are many, in the Wastes. There are many rumors about it. Some say that a great magical trove of weapons is hidden beneath its lava, that it is where one of the greatest of the rajahs was bound at the end of the Age of Demons, and that fiends arise regularly from its flames. Whether they are true or not, it is supposed to attract fiendish creatures.”

“Burning Keep is the remains of a small fort, built on the almost nonexistent remnants of a rakshasa ruin from the Age of Demons. The fort was built by the Enshrouded, one of the Carrion Tribes that worship a fiend of darkness, when they were rising in power, but soon destroyed by other nearby tribes. And Rotting Blade is a small settlement, which contains humans and orcs, as well as (we think) a nearby kobold tribe. We also believe it is ruled by a night hag. I hope that helps.” 

“I’m sure it will,” says Six. “What are these Carrion Tribes?”

“Tribes of savages,” says Torgaan, before smiling thinly and adding, “Even more savage than us. Some worship the bound rajahs, some the Lords of Dust, and some even the night hags of the Waste. They are deadly, and will likely try to kill you on sight.”

“Yes,” says Lharc. “To reach the area you are going to, you may pass through lands inhabited by the Moon Reavers, who worship a night hag, and the Plaguebearers, which worship a fiend of corruption, and like to coat their weapons with disease-causing dung. It is difficult to be sure, since they are mostly nomadic, and fight among themselves constantly.” 

“Every little bit of information helps,” says Nameless. “Could you help us in any way against the rakshasas? They are difficult to damage with the weapons we have.”

“Yes,” says Lharc. “We have considered this too, and will give you one of our finest weapons. It is a spear, especially blessed by a past sar’malaan to overcome their resistances. You will receive it before you leave. Is there anything else that we can do?”

After they discuss a few more things, Torgaan and Lharc ask the Angels to go and rest. They can leave early in the morning, with escorts to lead them to the Vanka clan, which guards the area of the Labyrinth they will pass immediately before reaching the Wastes.

*****
As planned, the Angels leave Maruk Dar very early in the morning. Morran, who seems to be very interested in their situation, leads the escort. While they travel, he talks to them about the lands they come from, all of which he has only heard of, and tells them of the life of the Ghaash’kala.

Eventually, near noon, they are stopped by a squad of Ghaash’kala who rise from the rocks ahead of them. The Vanka warriors are similar in garb and gear to the Maruk, differing only in that they are almost exclusively orcish, and that they bear a wide variety of sigils and tribal markings, in contrast to the single type of sigil depicting Kalok Shash that the Maruk bear.

Morran quickly explains to the Vanka leader that the Maruk want these strangers to be allowed to pass through the Vanka’s territory. The Angels notice that, though he provides no details of why this should be so, the Vanka ask no questions. Their leader simply asks Morran, “Do they know that we will stop them if they attempt to leave?” When Morran replies in the affirmative, he nods and motions to the Angels to follow him.

As they are about to leave, Morran says, with just the slightest bit of wistfulness, “I wish you luck in the Wastes. If you do not return, may Kalok Shash grant you a good death.”

“Thank you,” says Korm. “You sound like you wish you could come with us.”

Morran smiles. “I do, a little. When one holds the passes against the darkness for so long, sometimes one wishes to carry the battle to them, instead. Still, we all do what we must.”

With that, Morran bids the Angels goodbye, him and the other Maruk turning away and jogging away quickly. Four of the Vanka lead the Angels away, while the others fade back into the rocks. After half an hour, they reach a small outpost, consisting off a rough building carved part of the way up the side of a canyon, where their Vanka guides stop them. After speaking to others in the outpost, they provide the group with six new guides and leave them. These six lead them quickly in the direction of the Wastes.

It is early evening when the Angels finally emerge from the Labyrinth. The canyons end suddenly, changing abruptly into the dark, rolling plains and rocky hills of the Demon Wastes. The Vanka stop here, saying that they will go no further, and head back into the Labyrinth.

“Should we stop here or continue?” asks Luna.

“There’ll be some light for a while,” Nameless says, “And we might as well get as much benefit from these mounts as possible.”

The Angels proceed quickly into the Wastes, the _phantom stag_s and _steed_s carrying them at a great pace, now that they can travel without having to make constant turns as they did thus far, despite the lack of any track or trail to follow.

As they travel, the Angels look around with interest at probably the most inhospitable area in Khorvaire short of the Mournland itself. Plains of blackened sand and reddish rock undulate around them, rising regularly into dark hills that sometimes rise to the level of mountains, their sharp ridges etched against the darkening sky. Many of them are actively volcanic, marked by plumes of ash or trickling ash, and the riders pass large areas of volcanic glass from earlier activity. As the evening deepens, pinpricks of light appear as far as they can see, indicating that the entire area is heavily volcanic. There are areas of the plain with glowing splits in the ground, not crevasses so much as large fire pits.

There are few signs of life, though there are birds high in the sky and the odd rodent, serpent or large insect moves hurriedly from the path of the riders, surprised by the near-silent movement of the magical mounts. The only vegetation seems to be short spiky bushes and shrubs, with large patches of some hardy lichen. 

There is no evident sign of human – or other – habitation either, though, as the evening deepens, the Angels glimpse collections of lights miles away that might be the windows of a small village or a collection of campfires. Luckily, none of them are in the immediate vicinity, though the existence of the hills in the area makes it quite possible that they are simply missing some.

Eventually, after nearly three hours of riding, when they are fifty or so miles into the Wastes, the Angels decide to call a halt, a combination of tiredness and darkness making it difficult to continue. The mounts are also due to fade away soon, and Nameless, Korm and Luna dismiss them.

Having done so, Luna looks around at the forbidding landscape, now lit only by the lights of the many volcanoes. “Camping in the Demon Wastes. Anybody want to bet that I get to _flame strike_ something tonight?”


----------



## Sidekick

This is likely to become a VERY cool situation.

Feed me more.

Also as an aside, are they actually thinking of trying to get out through the labrynth or will they be exiting via the Tharashk outpost in the south.


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> This is likely to become a VERY cool situation.




As long as we're not speaking for the PCs, yes 



> Feed me more.




See below.



> Also as an aside, are they actually thinking of trying to get out through the labrynth or will they be exiting via the Tharashk outpost in the south.




They're planning to just _teleport_ out, actually.

*********************************************************************
*Sticks and Stones*

Gareth finds himself standing in a large chamber, the boundaries of which are vague and misty. But what is clear is that the other Angels stand around him, and that they face the two rakshasas they have fought before, now in their own forms. The white-furred male holds the Key, which glows brightly in his paw. A battle begins, but strangely, Gareth finds himself alone fighting the rakshasa swordswoman, while everyone else attacks the one with the Key. Though wounded, he eventually manages to smite the rakshasa to the ground. Gareth hurries to join the battle, where things are going badly for his allies, all of whom are seriously wounded.

As he is about to reach the remaining rakshasa, someone knocks the Key from its paw, which rolls straight to Gareth, almost as if seeking him. He stoops to pick it up, and instantly, all of the other Angels turn to attack him. Nameless summons pseudonatural wolves around him, Luna _ flame strike_s him, and Korm and Six charge, weapons raised. Even more surprisingly, as Gareth defends himself, the rakshasa moves to aid him. Or so he assumes, since it attacks them with spells, but specifically does not harm him. Gareth’s (former) allies keep shouting, “Mine! I must have it! Give it to me!” as they fight. Their initial attacks wound him, but then Kizmet begins to glow with a silver flame, tendrils of which climb up his arm, healing as they go. The Key begins to glow with a similar light, which expands into the form of a shield around you. With the aid of Key and Kizmet, and the rakshasa, Gareth gradually manages to cut down all his allies. 

As the last one falls, the rakshasa looks at him and then slowly kneels, saying, in reverent tones, “You are the one!” It stretches forth its arms and lays its head near his feet. Gareth smites off its head, a silvery flame leaping from Kizmet, and its body is consumed in the flames. The paladin raises the Key, now glowing brighter and brighter with silver light, and the chamber melts away, revealing that he is standing outside a giant cathedral-fortress. Though he has never seen it before, he recognizes it from pictures as the Cathedral of the Silver Flame, which stands at the center of Flamekeep.

Gareth walks forward, Key still held aloft, and passes through the walls, as if they did not exist. He walks deeper and deeper into the fortress, continuing to pass through whatever is in the way. He passes many people, most wearing insignia and symbols of the Silver Flame, who all stop and bow or kneel as he passes. Very quickly, Gareth reaches the innermost sanctum and descends, finally reaching a huge chamber, where a small girl stands before a giant pillar of silver flame. He realizes this is the Chamber of the Flame, where the Keeper, eleven-year old Jaela Daran, listens to the Voice of the Flame. 

Jaela bows too, and says, “Greetings, Gareth Byron Deneith, Keeper of the Flame. Do what needs to be done.” She steps away and he walks up to the column of flame. Still holding the Key aloft, he steps into the pillar. Gareth feels gentle warmth surround and hold him aloft, and then a face forms before him. He recognizes it as that of Tira Miron, as he saw on the day of the Battle of Grace, as she says, “Thank you. By your actions, the Flame is now cleansed and made complete. Accept our reward.” Gareth feels his body beginning to melt into the Flame painlessly, being replaced by silver flame where it was flesh. As it melts, the tendrils of flame all around him all display tiny faces, all looking at him. The one right in front of him is his father’s, which smiles in approbation. It is the greatest sense of mingled peace, contentment and pride that Gareth has ever felt, as close to perfection as he could imagine, if it were not for the irritating voices that are shouting, louder and louder…

And then Gareth opens his eyes, and realizes that he is in the middle of the Demon Wastes. And that the voices are those of Korm, Six and Nameless, who are standing near each other, looking off into the darkness of the Wastes and shouting an alarm. Which is almost drowned out by a chorus of bloodthirsty screams from somewhere ahead of them.

As Gareth rolls out of his blankets and grabs Kizmet, Six hurls an _everburning torch_ some sixty feet into the darkness ahead of him. It lands, and rushing out of the shadows at the edge of its range of illumination, Gareth sees half a dozen humanoid shapes. They are fiendish in appearance, their shadowy faces a mixture of horns, dark reddish skin, large yellow eyes and fangs. The seven assailants wear hides and brandish large two-handed weapons, continuing to scream as they rush at the Angels. 

A second later, a _cone of cold_, an _arc of lightning_ and a _flame strike_ smash down, slaying three and badly wounding the others. Gareth and Six rush in weapons swinging. Gareth brings Kizmet down in an overhand chop that drops one of the wounded enemies. As the stricken foe rolls over in his death-throes, Gareth realizes there is something strange about their demonic features. A call from Six confirms what he thinks. “Human! They’re human!”

Immediately, Gareth realizes what it was that he’d noticed. The horns are actually hair raised into spikes, while the yellow eyes are painted around their real eyes. They also have a vile stench around them. Even as he is noting this, the remaining humans scream aloud. The Angels see dark tendrils of smoke shoot up their legs and envelop them, as if each wore a large, shapeless cloak, and then fall apart. As the ‘smoke’ disappears, they seem stronger and fiercer, and rush to attack with renewed force.

Nevertheless, they are still badly wounded by the spells, and the Angels dispatch them quickly, though not before one smashes Gareth painfully over the head. While he calls upon Kizmet’s healing power, his companions check the corpses.

“What do you think they are?” asks Korm.

“Members of the Carrion Tribes, I presume,” replies Nameless. 

“Any idea what that strange smoke thing was?”

“Not really. It wasn’t a spell, that’s for sure. The results looked a lot like when you do your berserker thing. Maybe it’s something to do with their worship of the rajahs. Strange, but that’s to be expected here.”

“That’s not all that’s strange,” says Luna, backing away from the corpse she was bending over. “Yuck! What’s wrong with them?”

Korm continues to lean over the bodies, though there is a look of distaste on his face as he looks at the angry welts and open weeping sores on their arms and other exposed flesh. He wrinkles his nose at the stench of corruption and says, “They’re diseased. All of them. That’s where the smell comes from.”

“And from the weapons,” points out Six, having picked up one of them. He indicates the dark substance coating the weapon. “It’s that strange crap you people produce.”

“What crap?” asks Nameless, a little confusedly.

“Crap,” says Six. “. Excreta. They have it coated on the weapons.”

“Oh, come on!” says Luna, in disgust. “That’s just wrong.”

“They must be members of the Plaguebearers that the Ghaash’kala mentioned.”

Gareth, having recovered, walks over. “Any magical weapons?”

“Not very likely,” says Six, pointing out what the weapon he’s holding is. “It’s a stick. Actually, not even really a stick. It’s some thick fibers tied together to make something like a stick.”

Korm turns to look at Gareth. “You almost got your head caved in by a guy with a stick?”

“Hey! I’m in my pajamas, remember?”

“If it makes you feel better,” says Six, “There is a rock attached to it.”

Luna, now at a safe distance from the smell, sits down and begins to laugh. “Yes, that’s so much better. We’ve fought dragons, rakshasas, mind flayers, beholders and a bloody daelkyr! And now we’re being attacked by people with a stick and a rock?”

“One guy had a sword,” says Six, lifting it up. “Crappy one.”

“That does it,” says Gareth. “I’m going back to bed.”

“First we need to dispose of the bodies,” points out Nameless. “I have no interest in finding out what kind of scavengers there are out here.” He looks over at Luna. “Could you turn into a bear and dig a hole?”

Luna grumbles, “All right, but I’m not putting them in there. That’s on you guys.”

As she is about to change, Gareth interrupts, “Wouldn’t it be better to burn them? They’re diseased, and could spread it to animals and passersby.”

Nameless looks at him silently for a moment and then says, in a voice of withering scorn, “We’re in the middle of the freaking Demon Wastes. If any animal survives here or some traveler passes by, I’m pretty sure they could handle a little disease.”

“Fine,” says Gareth, with a shrug. “Do what you want. I’m going to bed.”

The rest of the Angels dispose of the corpses and then follow suit, except for those who are on watch.

*****
The next morning, the Angels awake to an uncomfortable morning, all of them feeling slightly queasy.

“That’s weird,” says Luna. “I wonder if those damn corpses affected us some way.”

“Can’t be,” says Gareth, sounding seriously confused. “I feel ill too. I haven’t been ill for years, since I was blessed by Tira Miron. I can’t _be_ ill. I’m immune to disease. Of any kind.”

“Apparently not this one,” says Six. “I don’t even have all those things in my stomach that you have … I mean, I don’t really even have a stomach … but something feels wrong in here.” He stretches and then says, “Ow! My joints hurt!”

“You have a stoma…,” begins Korm, before being interrupted by a hacking cough. 

Nameless, who has been silently running a hand over extremely cracked lips, takes them away with a slight trace of blood. “Looks like we all have something or other going wrong.”

“But this is impossible!” says Gareth.

“Only if it’s a disease. This must be the Taint the Ghaash’kala mentioned. Maybe it’s more akin to a curse.”

“Well, that I can deal with.” Gareth settles down to a comfortable posture and begins to pray.

“Anyone else have this greasy skin?” asks Korm, having temporarily recovered from his cough.

“Me too.” “And me.” “Same here” “Yup. And yuck!” come the replies.

“Wait a second,” adds Luna, looking down at her left arm and wrist, around which the daelkyr symbiont is still tightly wrapped. She rubs her fingers carefully up and down her arm and says, “This arm’s just fine. Dry, like normal. Till here, at the shoulder.” 

“That symbiont must be keeping it fine.”

Luna raises her arm and looks. “I think the symbiont’s gone a little grayer than it normally is.” 

“Really?” Six reaches into a pouch and produces the eye-like symbiont, which he had used through the night on watch. It gazes back at him unblinkingly, but now a fine network of red lines covers it, making it look slightly bloodshot. Six hands it around to show the others.

“Oh, great! This affects symbionts too?”

Hopefully, Luna says, “Maybe mine will keep me fine. Or as fine as I am now.”

Six looks over and says, just a trifle maliciously, “Maybe. On the other hand, I think it made your hips a little wider overnight.”

Luna looks down, back up, back down again, and then stomps off, cursing loudly.

Other than Six, the rest (joined eventually by a still grumbling Luna) settle down to prepare their spells for the day. Once they are done, Gareth casts one to _remove curse_ on himself. As soon as he does, the feeling of mild queasiness, which he and the others have been slowly getting used to, subsides.

“Ah!” he says with satisfaction. “That feels much better!”

“Good for you,” grunts Korm. “Do you have any for us?”

“Unfortunately, no” begins Gareth. “I can only….” Then a distasteful expression covers his face, as he feels the queasiness return threefold, like a temporarily dammed flow bursting forth. “Damn! It’s back – and worse!”

“Well, that answers the question of whether you can deal with it or not. Come on – let’s just get done with it and leave this place.”

The Angels settle down to a quick breakfast. Just as they have finished and are breaking camp, a number of them see more of the Plaguebearers, this time over a dozen. They rush over a nearby ridge at the bottom of the nearest hill, letting out bloodthirsty howls as they come.

“Damn!” says Nameless. “I don’t want to waste time with these idiots, but my _phantom steed_ takes ten minutes to summon.”

“Not a problem for me,” says Korm, rushing through the motions of his spell, causing a _phantom stag_ to appear. “Gareth, you take this one. Luna, summon one for Six, and then transform to a bat and carry Nameless. I’ll fly.”

“No need,” says Six, hoisting his backpack. “I can just run.”

As he takes off at a run, his metal feet ignoring obstructions in the terrain, Gareth climbs quickly onto the magical mount. At his command it gallops off, easily catching up to Six.

Luna, meanwhile, transforms into a bat the size of a horse, letting Nameless mount her before she rises into the air. Korm, meanwhile, calls upon his own druidic powers to grow a pair of large feathery wings, rising by her side.

As they are taking wing, Nameless _summon_s a pair of bison to keep the attackers busy. Though the majority of them stop, surprised, to engage the animals, six of them break past and continue after the Angels, three to abortively hurl stone-tipped javelins at them, and three to even more ineffectually attempt to chase Gareth and Six.

Of more concern, however, are the three figures that rise from behind the ridge after the first wave of Plaguebearers, borne aloft on bat-wings. As they hurl themselves through the air, the Angels realize that the one in the center, boasting unusual height and musculature, is not actually wearing the disguises his companions are. His black, scaly skin, glowing red eyes, and large fangs are all natural. He also stands apart in that he wields a gleaming, saw-toothed metal battleaxe, while his compatriots use the same sticks and rocks. Though there is enough to indicate his partly human nature, there is just as much evidence of a fiendish heritage.

“They’re too fast!” shouts Nameless. “Blast them!” A second later, a barrage of spells from Luna, Korm and him descend on the three flying attackers. Though wounded, they continue onwards, the part-fiend leader (evidently strongly resistant to both the heat and cold magic used against it) charging Korm, while the other two attack Nameless and Luna.

Seeing that escape is not an option, Gareth turns his mount and comes racing back. The abrupt turn surprises the three who were following him, none more so than the one who is both trampled and slashed badly as the paladin rides over him and continues. 

Korm and his opponent circle in mid-air, falchion ringing off greataxe, with the big orc quickly realizing that his opponent is stronger. _Much stronger_, thinks Korm. He calls upon the berserker instincts of his ancestors, feeling added strength and vitality flow through his veins. With a triumphant cry, Korm slashes through his enemy’s defenses, his enchanted blade laying open its chest to the bone.

The wound seems to have little effect on the part-fiend, which shouts wordlessly, wreathing itself in the strength-giving smoke that the others had. It strikes back with a flurry of axe-blows, punctuated by a lunging bite into the side of Korm’s neck. Within seconds, Korm is dripping with gore, only conscious due to his berserker spirit. “Guys!” he shouts desperately. “I need help!”

The others are in some difficulty as well. The barbarians Gareth rode through turn and give chase, and before he can turn his steed away, sticks and stones are smashing into his armor and battering his bones with surprising efficacy. 

Luna and Nameless have even bigger problems. One of the flying attackers goes down beneath a pair of spells, but the other hurls forward, wrapping muscular arms around Nameless. The additional weight overloads Luna and she drops out of the air with a surprised squawk. She lands right on top of one of the waiting Plaguebearers below, but putting herself and Nameless in the perfect position for the others to attack.

Nameless reels as a rock smashes into his back. “Hold on, Luna!” Despite the rain of blows, he concentrates and casts a spell. A second later, the Plaguebearers around them look around in surprise, as the two disappear from among them.

The leader is even more surprised. He is snarling his bloodlust as he raises his axe over the barely conscious Korm. And then, suddenly, there is a huge bat, with a bloodied human clinging to it, right next to them. As the part-fiend pauses in surprise, the bat Luna squeaks and touches Korm with her wing. She sends as much healing magic as she can into her ally.

The part-fiend’s expression changes from surprise to rage, but only for a second. “Bye bye,” grits a revived Korm as he swings. The falchion makes a gleaming arc with barely a pause, and, as the leader plummets to the ground, his still-snarling head depicts a neat arc and actually smacks into the face of one of the remaining Plaguebearers.

Who, along with his remaining five allies, survives his leader by only a few seconds. An irritated Nameless drops a _cloudkill_ around them, and when it clears, only corpses are left. 

Gareth and Six, having disposed of the three that had attacked Gareth, join the others, the paladin barely able to sit upright on his stag.

Six, who is effectively untouched, looks around at his bloodied allies. “You know, I’m fine with killing those rakshasas,” he says, “But next time we see people with rocks and sticks, I’m running away and not coming back.”


----------



## shilsen

After the excitement of the last few minutes, the trip deeper into the Wastes is comparatively uneventful. Though the environment becomes no more hospitable, nothing actually attacks the Angels. Three large lizards, each the size of a horse, make an attempt to do so, but are left gaping in surprise as the magical mounts race by them.

The Angels head north, bearing slightly to the west, following the direction of their link to the Key. It is clear to them, however, that the link is growing less precise, though none of them could say exactly how they know that. Nevertheless, it remains as strong, letting them know they are heading towards its general area.

After a little over two hours of traveling, the Angels catch sight of smoke against the sky ahead, and shortly afterwards, see its source, a small settlement a few miles ahead. They circle around to approach it undetected from behind a nearby hill, about a mile away, and carefully study it, lying low and peering over a ridge. 

The settlement is a small, fairly innocuous-seeming village, which makes it look significantly out of place here, in the middle of the Demon Wastes. The houses, all consisting of one level, appear ramshackle but sturdy, and are apparently all made of stone. The boundary of the village is marked by a circle of widely placed, large, menhir-like stones, each at least eight feet tall and at least half as wide. They stand about five hundred feet from the closest of the houses. The area between the boundary stones and the houses are mostly full of surprisingly thick fields of the tough lichens that they have seen in the area, with a path leading through them every so often. Though it is difficult to make out details at this distance, the watchers can see a number of people moving around the village. They seem to be of human size, with a fair number of much smaller shapes, which stand about waist-high to them.

After a few minutes of watching, the Angels pull back below the ridge to discuss what they have seen.

“This is probably that place called Rotting Blade,” says Nameless.

Korm shakes his head. “No place whose name starts with ‘Rotting’ can be any good.”

“Yes,” continues Nameless, “And I’m really suspicious of such a normal-looking place in the middle of the Wastes.”

Luna shrugs. “So, do we go in there or what? We know the Key’s somewhere around this area, so maybe we’ll know where it is once we’re closer.”

“I’m not too sure of that,” says Nameless. “And I really don’t like the idea of just walking in there. If the rakshasas are in there, I don’t think we could take them, with all the spells we’ve used, and especially not if those people in there serve them.” He looks around uncertainly. “Maybe we should go look for the Lake of Fire and the Burning Keep.”

“I think we should go in there,” comments Gareth. “Maybe we could get some information.”

“Information? This is the Wastes. They’re liable to be evil demon-worshippers, more than anything else.”

“When did _you_ have problems with evil demon-worshippers?” asks Gareth. “And it’s better than just sitting around wondering what to do.”

“True,” says Six, before adding, with a metallic chuckle, “But they might have sticks and rocks too.”

Luna laughs and says, “Tell you what – I’ll fly around the area and see what I can find.” She looks around the area, looking for a bird that she could take the form of, without attracting attention. There is nothing in the immediate vicinity, and the few birds in the sky are circling high above, so she settles for a hawk.

Taking wing, she heads towards the west, pausing every once in a while to depict a long circular sweep of the area. After a couple of miles, she catches sight of more smoke to the southwest, and a short detour lets her see that it comes from what seem to be fires around which a small collection of tents are pitched. The site is quite far away, so the druid decides not to detour to investigate and keeps going.

When Luna is just over five miles from where she left her companions, she feels the link to the Key begin to fade. She begins to fly in a wide circle, trying to work out where the feeling fades, and, almost simultaneously, catches sight of a ruined structure a couple of miles to the northwest. Luna flies over, trying not to be too obvious and staying behind cover where she can.

The structure was probably a short and thick watchtower of the kind that would be utterly unremarkable in most other parts of Khorvaire, but here in the Wastes, even with most of its top half reduced to rubble, it is still the highest artificial structure that Luna has seen. Lichen and a tough vine crawl up its sides, and once she has dropped down to the roof (formerly the bottom of the second level), Luna uses them as cover to peer in the windows of the main remaining room.

She immediately sees the light of a flame, which comes from an _everburning torch_ propped up against a pair of backpacks that lie in the middle of the floor. Near them is an opening in the floor, revealing badly worn stone steps leading into darkness. The murmur of voices floats up, as does the barest hint of flickering light.

Luna flaps as quietly as possible into the room and lands near the steps. Now that she is closer, she hears the murmuring as words. The language is Draconic, and Luna hears the voice ask, “…will not be disturbed?” And then it moves away.

Turning to the backpacks, the ever-curious druid casts a spell and _detect_s a few magical auras. After listening again to ensure that the voices can no longer be heard, she pecks and claws at the haversack till it opens. A quick search reveals that the magical auras emanate from a scroll tube. Also of interest to Luna is the traveling spellbook she finds beside it.

Luna listens carefully, and hearing no sounds, changes back to a shifter. She then quickly sticks the scroll tube and spellbook in her backpack, changes back to a bird, and flies out the window.

*****
Two hours later, Luna is explaining what happened to her companions, whose reactions range from amusement to minor disapproval.

“So you just took their things?” asks Gareth.

“Well,” Luna replies defensively, “They shouldn’t just leave it lying around.”

Gareth looks at her, then turns and walks away. Korm comments, “What – you’re not going to lecture her for dishonesty?”

The paladin shrugs. “Nameless keeps telling me that anyone in the Wastes would be evil. I’m presuming he’s right, so what do I care?” Gareth looks over at Nameless, who’s already going through the spellbook Luna brought. “Looks like he’s not exactly concerned about it either.”

Nameless puts down the spellbook, saying disappointedly, “Nothing new. Only spells up to the third valence, so the user couldn’t be too proficient.” He opens up the scroll tube and produces a couple of rolls of parchment. After using a _read magic_, he says, “Nice selection. A _dimension door_, a _create food and water_, and a _sending_.”

“So,” says Six, looking at Luna, “You managed to make it impossible for someone to travel out of a dangerous situation, obtain food and water, and contact someone to say that he’s in trouble? Oh yes – and prepare his spells too.”

“Yeah,” grins Luna. “It’s a _good_ day.”

Six just shakes his head and looks over at Nameless. “So, what’s next? Do we go into town?”

“I really don’t want to do that until we have all our spells back,” says Nameless. The rakshasas might be in there. I think we should camp here and wait till tomorrow.”

“I did feel that link to the Key fade once I got about five miles away,” says Luna. “Anyway, if we’re staying here, let me fly over and check out the place.”

Korm, who has moved up to a ridge to watch the village, says, “They’ve got something looking like pigeons over there. A couple of people are working in one of the fields, and there are a few of those flying around.”

“Pigeons in the Wastes? Don’t get close, Luna,” says Nameless. “They’ll probably try to eat you.” 

Luckily for Luna, he is wrong. The pigeons do have scales intermixed with feathers and a forked, featherless, ratlike tail, but none of them makes any attempt to eat her when she reaches them. A couple of them hiss at her, but that is all.

Luna flies into the village, perching on a rooftop here and there, carefully studying the place and its inhabitants. She sees that, just as the Ghaash’kala had said, they are mostly humans and orcs, though there are a small number of kobolds. There are about equal quantities of men and women, with a few children present. While their clothing is a little drab and shows less variety than might be seen in a similar village in Breland, the inhabitants otherwise look quite normal. There are no signs that Luna notices of the ailments affecting the Angels.

The houses that make up the buildings are all of stone. None of them are made of brick, but rather are of rough pieces of stone, held together by mortar. All have a single level, even the largest, which stands in the center of the village. It is about twice as large as any of the others, and also has the largest collection of people around it, some sitting outside on rough chairs around a table, some walking in and out from what is apparently a store of some kind, while others visit the large well that stands near the building. Luna listens to some of those sitting around there, but they speak mainly in a language she does not speak. There are some words that she understands, but the conversation is innocuous, seemingly about the crops and the weather.

After a while, Luna heads back to the others. When she tells them what she saw and heard, Nameless frowns. “That doesn’t make me feel any the better. It sounds too normal – or apparently normal – for this place.”

Six, who is getting a little bored of waiting, says, “Yes, but it’s our best bet for information about the area. We can find out tomorrow whether there’s something hidden under the normal appearance.”

The Angels settle down for the evening and the night, using the _Staff of Survival_ from the island, which creates a _tiny hut_ for them. Not only does it provide shelter but, after dark, it is difficult to see at a distance against the rock of the hill. 

Whether that is the reason or not, the night passes uneventfully. One of the large lizards they had seen does come sniffing around the hut, apparently confused by being able to smell them but not see anything beyond the opaque hemisphere created by the spell. Its confusion is briefly heightened as Korm’s fist comes through the hemisphere and smacks it in the nose, causing it to squeal in terror and flee, though not before it drops its three foot long tail as a distraction. Distraction or not, the tail is quickly collected, to be added to a future menu.

***
In the morning, the Angels arise to find that the ailment, whatever it may be, that seems to be affecting all of them, is now stronger. Joints are more painful, skin feels even more greasy, eyelids are clearly swollen (except for Six, who has none), and so on. They also feel slightly weak and a little foggy-headed, a feeling that does not subside, or improve after a _lesser restoration_. Luna, who feels slightly better than the others*, notices that the symbiont on her arm has now turned gray, though it seems otherwise well. 

It may have something to do with feeling unwell, but they all individually find themselves a little irritable. Gareth, especially irritated with this feeling of sickness, since he has spent years not having to suffer the slightest cough or cold, feels the slickness of the skin of his face and says, “Looks like someone’s screwing with the Shard.” 

Then he gives Nameless a look and continues, “Or maybe sitting around in the Wastes for most of a day waiting to prepare spells wasn’t that brilliant an idea.”


* Everyone has a -2 penalty to Con and Wis that _lesser restoration_ did not cure. Luna has a -1 to each.


----------



## Solarious

Letting ya know I'm still here. I'll post impressions and comments once I get caught up.


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## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Letting ya know I'm still here. I'll post impressions and comments once I get caught up.



 Thanks. Though writing these is enjoyable, it's nice to know people are reading. It'll be a while till the next update, since we aren't playing this weekend, but should play again on the 11th.

By the way, I've been telling my players every once in a while about the comments from you and others who post in this thread. They've been quite amused by the pleasure you've all taken in Luna's weight issues. Well, all except Luna's player, who thinks you are all sadists


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## Sidekick

Well I’ll chip in with a comment. This is one heckuvva campaign!

The PCs are all really good, Korm seems to be a very good addition/replacement to the group.

I like that the leadership is a bickering odd-couple of a morally challenged Alienist and a very mercantile paladin of the SF.

Also, Shil I just have to say that this whole arc is very, very well done. The Rhakshassa’s, their use of the prophesy to shadow the PCs & obtain the key from them. It’s all the kind of stuff that makes me want to play in your group.

Shame that’ll never happen, oh well.

Oh and hey, tell your group that I think their trash talking was A+ level. I’ve never read nor seen anything quite like that.

Very good way to unsettle the BBEG…


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## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Well I’ll chip in with a comment. This is one heckuvva campaign!




Thanks. It's definitely the best one I've got to run. Then again, it's only the fourth one I've run, and so far each has been better than the last, so maybe I'll top it next time. 



> The PCs are all really good, Korm seems to be a very good addition/replacement to the group.
> 
> I like that the leadership is a bickering odd-couple of a morally challenged Alienist and a very mercantile paladin of the SF.




And that's obviously a big part of it. I have a pretty good set of players. Strangely, none of us knew each other earlier, with only Six's and Nameless's players having gamed together before, and were all (except Luna's player) recruited for another campaign through ENWorld. That one folded up and I took over, and the group's remained the same ever since, with the addition of Luna, whose player also found us through ENWorld shortly after my game began. Thus far, with this and a couple of other groups, I've had really good luck gaming with people I didn't know beforehand. I figure the karmic scales have a really horrifying experience waiting for me in the future to make up.



> Also, Shil I just have to say that this whole arc is very, very well done. The Rhakshassa’s, their use of the prophesy to shadow the PCs & obtain the key from them.




It actually came very close to not happening. Since I've told my players and am quite serious about the fact that the PCs get to do whatever hey do, the campaign could have gone many different ways. The rakshasas (or, more precisely, the white-furred leader) did have a few different hopes for the Angels, with the Xen'drik thing being one possibility. Incidentally, he didn't actually know that the Key was there, but rather that something had happened there with the dragons. The idea was for the Angels to investigate and bring back information, and maybe items, that he could exploit. The fact that they returned with the Key was a huge bonus.

That event, as well as what they were doing with it, also made him step out of the shadows and actually go after it, revealing himself to them much faster than he'd planned. Which worked out well for the Angels in some ways, since he didn't get to plan and obtain as many resources as he could have. That's why he sacrificed poor Desro, who got played for a patsy. He never knew that the rakshasas planned to 'lose' and let the Angels get that magical dragonshard, so that they could follow them to the Shadow Marches.



> It’s all the kind of stuff that makes me want to play in your group.
> 
> Shame that’ll never happen, oh well.




Never say never. Stranger things have happened.



> Oh and hey, tell your group that I think their trash talking was A+ level. I’ve never read nor seen anything quite like that.
> 
> Very good way to unsettle the BBEG…




Will do. I was definitely very impressed. Whatever else they can't do, they sure can talk to powerful enemies in ways that really confuse them.


----------



## Furby076

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Shame that’ll never happen, oh well.




Aww, come on, you need to have come up with the "I have a webcam can I play Bodo?" suggestion   

Anyhow....thanks for the comments...I agree with your comments.  On a side-note, Gareth's mercantile (and bit greedy nature) comes from my personal nature. I had a different character, same group different campaign, that was a fighter/rogue who was raised in a merchant family.....I played him to the "t"....I played me with swords   Though a lot of times the initial jump to greed is subdued after a minute, but it still gets reported in Shil's ledger   

Again, thanks for the comments.


----------



## Sidekick

AviLazar - I think that Gareth is a top class paladin.

You should have seen my first (& only) attempt at playing a paladin. Sure he was the leader and sure he helped people, but I played him SOO CG (me).

I still don't know how he got away with not being fallen. I guess we were all having too muuch fun for all that...


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## Sidekick

Bump???


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## Rackhir

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Bump???




What no justice any more? Dont worry you'll soon learn the horrible truth behind certain fairy tales and why you shouldn't leave shiny objects around Druids.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> What no justice any more? Dont worry you'll soon learn the horrible truth behind certain fairy tales and why you shouldn't leave shiny objects around Druids.



 What he said. We had a fun session yesterday, with some pretty good lines being exchanged, interesting NPCs met, and one of the more memorable enemies fought thus far.

I'm a little busy with work, but I should have an update up in a few days. We're not actually going to be able to play again until the weekend after Thanksgiving, since we're coming up on a climactic point and that's the first time we'll be able to have all players there (hopefully), so I may spread things out a bit.


----------



## Sidekick

Normally there's justice involved, but hey it was a sunday. With monday right around the corner justice isn't excatly a friend of mine (if there were any justice on Sundays monday would be a weekend day as well).

But now its monday....

BUMP FOR JUSTICE, TRUTH AND SMACK-TALKING!!


----------



## shilsen

A little late, but here it is. Next one will be sometime next week.

*****
After trying a couple of spells and discovering that they do nothing to remove the effects of the sickness, or Taint, that they are suffering, the Angels discuss what to do next.

“We might as well head down to the village and see what we find, right?” Luna asks.

Nameless frowns. “Why exactly are we going there? I really doubt the rakshasas are there, so we’d just be wasting our time. If those people down there serve them, they’ll either attack us or give them information about us.”

“But what other option do we have?” asks Korm. “I can still feel a link to the Key, but it’s really vague right now, so I doubt we’d know if we were right next to it. Wandering around the Wastes hoping to bump into those rakshasas isn’t likely to help.”

“And if we get close to those people, I may be able to get some information off their minds,” puts in Gareth.

Six rubs at his now strangely slick exterior and says, “Plus they don’t seem ill to Luna. Maybe they have a cure for this Taint thing. Maybe those stones are some kind of a warding thing.” He adds, a trifle irritably, “All of you people’s magic doesn’t seem to be able to stop it, after all.”

Nameless’s frown only deepens, but he says, “Fine. But first let’s try to find out as much about the area around us. Maybe that’ll give us another lead. Korm, Luna – could one of you try to _commune with nature_?”

Korm says, “All right. I’ll do it.” He looks around at the Wastes and rubs his forehead. “Though I’m not sure how much actual nature there is around here.” He settles down and begins to cast the spell, gradually sending his senses out into the land around him over the next ten minutes. There is an initial feeling of emptiness, followed by the sensation of pushing at a barrier, almost as if the very earth were resisting his mental touch, along with a moment of stomach-churning nausea. Korm fights off the nausea and forces his will against the barrier. There is a long sensation of increasing resistance and strain, and then he thrusts through it. 

With closed eyes, Korm says, “What do we want to know?”

“Check for presence of powerful unnatural creatures, humans and areas which have been constructed.”

“Okay.” Korm concentrates, and across the ten mile wide space that he sees in his mind, dots and patches begin to appear. Green dots, most of them in two collections of approximately a hundred and half of that, indicate where humans, presumably members of the Carrion Tribes, are. Five large red dots indicate powerful creatures, all of them well separated from the others, the closest of them approximately two miles away. And even larger blind white patches mark where artificial structures have been created. The closest is the village of Rotting Blade, but there are a few more dotted around the area. The largest, just over five miles to the northwest, must be Burning Keep.

Korm opens his eyes and relates what he picked up. After some consideration, Nameless reluctantly admits that it doesn’t give them enough to go anywhere else. The Angels make their preparations and head down to the village of Rotting Blade.

Though they half expect the appearance of spell-hurling rakshasas or at least some alarm once they have left the shelter of the hills, the Angels encounter no response to their approach as they cross the large open area outside the village. As they reach the large stones and step through, they feel a slight tingle, vaguely resembling that one feels when affected by a spell, but significantly weaker. Since there is no evident effect, they continue onwards, along one of the rough paths that pass through the rough fields of lichens and low shrubs.

As they reach and enter the village, the adventurers encounter the first people, some of whom stop, stare for a moment, and then quietly go about their business. As described by Luna, they are mostly humans and orcs, with a few kobolds, dressed in rough clothing. None wear armor, and the most weaponry is a belt knife or a carpenter’s axe. A couple of the ramshackle, yet sturdy, stone houses have weapons hanging on the wall, visible through the open doors and windows, but the folk of Rotting Blade seem decidedly non-martial, especially in view of their village’s location.

“Something is very strange here,” mutters Nameless. For once, Gareth, who is attempting to read a mind or two as they slowly pass, nods in agreement. “Yes. They seem too calm and disinterested.” He concentrates as he walks, and then says quietly, “Most of them are mildly evil. And a couple of them are thinking, ‘More newcomers? Vraria will want to know.’”

“Who’s Vraria?” asks Korm rhetorically. He grins and adds, “And why don’t they automatically realize that you are reading their minds, as everyone seems to? They must be _really_ stupid.”

Luna, in bear form, emits a long, low gurgle that is the ursine version of a chuckle. A couple of passersby, who have shown no real sign of being concerned about the heavily armed strangers walking through their village with a bear, quickly turn away. Luna chuckles again.

Six, currently appearing to be a human being thanks to his _hat of disguise_, waves at the retreating people, who look surprised, though one hesitantly waves back before continuing onwards.

The group soon reaches the large central building, where they attract a few curious looks but nothing more from the people sitting outside on crudely made stools or drawing water at the large well nearby. A couple of people appear at the windows to watch them approach and then disappear.

Entering, they find themselves in what seems like a cross between a poor tavern and a goods store. The wide room holds three tables, with chairs around them, and a couple of benches against the wall. The long counter has two sets of shelves, some holding what are presumably bottles of alcohol, and a much larger number holding small sacks of goods, crudely constructed tools, coils of rope and other such items. 

A burly man is cleaning the counter and talking to one of the four people in the room, and he looks up with a broad smile. “Ah – visitors! Welcome to Rotting Blade. I’m Roval. How can I help you? Want something to drink?” 

“Sure,” says Korm, walking forward.

“Excel…,” begins Roval, before seeing the bear walk in. “Um … is that thing house trained?”

Korm and the others exchange grins before he replies, “Yes, she is. Just don’t taunt the bear.”

“She? Err, okay. And I have no intention of doing so.” Roval produces a bottle with a thick, slightly scummy looking liquid in it. “Crapjuice?”

“What?!”

“Crapjuice. It’s a new batch.”

Korm shrugs. “Okay – why not?”

Six shakes his head as Roval pours a glassful and slides it across the counter. “You fleshies put really strange things into yourselves.”

Roval looks curiously at Six, perhaps because the comment comes from what seems to be just another person, but says nothing. Korm takes a swig of the liquid, which is a weak, thick alcohol, with a slightly salty taste and some crunchy bits, and grimaces slightly. “Could be stronger.”

Roval just smiles. “Want any food? Crap chop?”

“What?”

“Crap chop. Crapweed chop.” He nods at the glass in Korm’s hand. “Like that’s crapweed juice.”

“That’ll be those plants you have growing in the fields, right?”

“Yes. It’s our staple here.”

“What about meat?”

“Oh yes – we just had a new batch come in.”

“New batch? What kind of meat are we talking about?”

“Lizard.”

“Oh. That sounds good.”

While Korm is indulging in gastronomic adventures, the rest of the group are talking to an elderly orc, who walks up from one of the tables to talk to them. “Hello. I’m Uthcheq. We don’t get many travelers here,” he says. “What are you people doing in the Wastes?”

Nameless says, with a deadpan expression, “We have a survey we need filled out?”

“You what?!”

Six chips in. “Survey. We like to get our survey filled out in lots of places.”

“Well,” corrects Nameless, “We would like to. I don’t think we ever got anyone to fill one out. I thought that we had a chance with the beholder, but …”

Uthcheq looks back and forth between the two. “You’re both ins…”

“Yes, we get that a lot. Anyway,” asks Six, “Do you know where we could get a map of this area?”

At this point Gareth, who has been casually scanning the room, says quietly, “Can we talk outside, Nameless?”

“Sure. Excuse me, Uthcheq,” says the mage.

As soon as they are outside, Gareth hisses urgently, “That orc you were talking to is evil. Overwhelmingly evil.”

The alienist smiles, partly in relief and partly just to irritate Gareth. “Oh, good! That means we can probably trust them.” He turns and strides back into the chamber. Gareth stares after him, momentarily flabbergasted, and then strides just as quickly after him, scowling faintly.

They enter to find Uthcheq explaining that while maps are not available, there are a couple of people in the village who know the surrounding area particularly well and might be willing to act as guides. “Depends where you want to go. Any place particular?” 

The question is never answered. Gareth attempts to _detect thoughts_ on Uthcheq, and the orc resists. Uthcheq immediately steps away from the group, looking and sounding alarmed. “Somebody just tried to use magic on me. Was it one of you?”

Unsure whether it is Gareth or something else, Nameless looks around quickly, and asks, “I don’t think so. Do you have any rakshasas around here?”

“What?”

“Rakshasas. Furry guys with heads like tigers? They like to _detect thoughts_ and things like that.”

Gareth attempts it one more time, and again fails. “That does it,” says Uthcheq, and promptly disappears. Roval, who had already been on his way through the back door when the commotion occurred, speeds up and disappears into the back room, while the few other villagers in the room also head quickly for the exits.

“Interesting,” says Nameless, flicking a coin at the space Uthcheq just occupied, in case he is just invisible. Luna moves forward, sniffing at the area, and then shakes her massive head to indicate that she cannot scent a presence nearby.

“What was that about?” asks Korm. “You think that was the rakshasa?”

“I doubt it,” says Nameless. “They’d just attack us, I think.”

“That guy was overwhelmingly evil!” interjects Gareth, before adding accusingly. “And Nameless thought that was just great news when I mentioned it.”

“Well,” says Six, “It’s not necessarily bad news. Really evil people usually do one of three things to us. They try to kill us immediately. Or they try to get us to do something for them. Or they try to trick us.”

“Good list,” says Korm. “Mind you, sometimes they do two and three together.”

“Yes. Anyway, since these guys didn’t try to kill us immediately…”

The Angels are again interrupted by Uthcheq, who this time walks in through the door, followed by a young human woman dressed in similarly drab and shapeless robes. As they enter, Nameless looks at them calmly. “Nice trick.”

“Thank you,” says Uthcheq, sounding slightly surprised as he notes how calmly these strange people are responding. 

Except Gareth, who is again attempting to _detect evil_ on the pair. While he is doing so, Uthcheq continues, “I had to leave and speak to someone about your arrival. She can tell you about those whom you are following. Will you come with Siyal and me to meet her? She has a proposition for you that I think you will appreciate.”

Korm and Six turn to each other with broad smiles and chorus, “It’s option two!”

“What?” asks a clearly confused Uthcheq. Six and Korm smile back and say, “Oh, nothing – just something we’ve been discussing.” Korm looks over at Nameless. “Maybe that’s what we should put on the survey.”

A disgusted Gareth ignores this byplay and says aloud, “She’s overwhelmingly evil too. And we’re going with them?”

“Oh, come on – Gareth,” says Nameless, sounding just as disgusted. “We know that already. Tell us something new. And do you have a better option?”

Uthcheq and the woman he called Siyal turn to consider Gareth curiously, and as he is about to reply, he now feels a magical force attempting to affect him. The paladin shakes it off easily with an effort of will, immediately recognizing it as an attempt to _detect thoughts_. With an oath, he rips Kizmet from its sheath. “They just tried to read my thoughts! They must be rakshasas!”

Both Uthcheq and Siyal step back, raising their hands, but Nameless is faster. “Stop it!” he says loudly. “All of you!” He steps between Gareth and the pair of villagers. “Let’s all stop screwing around. We’ll go with you, but don’t try to use anything magical on us. And we,” he adds with a frown at Gareth, “Won’t do so either.”

“Certainly,” says Uthcheq. “My apologies.” He walks up to and around the counter, Siyal following silently in his wake. “Please follow me.” The Angels do so, Gareth reluctantly putting away Kizmet as he does so. As they pass through the doorway, they find themselves in a small antechamber, meeting a surprised-looking Roval, carrying a couple of plates with large chops on them.

“Excellent!” says Korm, collecting the chops on the way, and chewing on one as they walk. The meat is surprisingly tasty, and the fact that it is a little undercooked enhances it in Korm’s opinion.

Uthcheq and Siyal lead the group to a narrow set of stairs leading down. Luna reluctantly changes shape in order to fit. “I see you people have some hidden skills too,” says Uthcheq, as they descend.

The group reaches a storage area in the basement, and Uthcheq leads them to a wall, where he pushes open a concealed door. Beyond is a short, dark corridor, ending at a wooden door. Uthcheq knocks and a pleasant female voice says, “Enter.”

Beyond is a large sitting room, roughly furnished, but seeming lavish and opulent in comparison to the village above. Sitting on a divan against the far wall is an attractive young human woman. “Welcome. Please – be seated. I am Vraria.” As the Angels move to take seats, Uthcheq and Siyal take up positions on either side of the door. “I have been expecting you,” continues Vraria. “I know who you have been looking for, and I can help you find them. And, in return, I have a small favor to ask.”

“I’m not promising anything,” says Nameless, “But we’re listening. First, however, just to make things easier, please humor me.” He turns to Gareth and says, “You know you’ll be wanting to do it, so just go ahead and _detect evil_ on her.”

Gareth gives him a dirty look but complies, and then mutters, “She’s overwhelmingly evil too. Not that it matters to you idiots.”

Vraria, who has been looking on with interest, asks, “_Detect evil_? Are you then a paladin or a priest?”

“Yes,” says Gareth. “I am a paladin of the Silver Flame.” He removes the large cloak that he has worn over his clothing all this time, revealing his Flame-marked armor.

“Good. I was told there would be a worshipper of the Flame in the group,” says Vraria. “We do not often see people of your faith here, but one of them stopped by recently. He was a priest, I believe. He and his two companions left yesterday and went to Burning Keep, a location near here.”

At her words, a grin spreads across Nameless’s face so widely that it threatens to meet at the back of his head, and he throws back his head and guffaws. Korm does so too, while Six emits a metallic laugh. Luna turns a little red, claps a hand over her mouth, and turns quickly to Gareth, whose face has gone dark. “Oops!” she says, with a guilty smile, “My bad!”

“What’s going on?” asks Vraria curiously, with a slightly puzzled smile.

“Our friend here,” says Nameless, indicating Luna, “Visited Burning Keep and stole a few things from those people.”

“Hey!” says Luna defensively, “I didn’t know they were Flamers.”

“Like that would have mattered,” scoffs Korm.

“Well…,” says Luna, with another guilty smile, letting the sentence trail off.

Vraria shakes her head and then says, “Anyhow, it’s a good thing you know where Burning Keep is. The favor I need is the retrieval of an item from there. If and when you obtain it for me, I shall let you know what you want.”

“Before we agree to do that,” says Nameless, “How can we be sure you really know anything? After all, you could just be just trying to trick us into doing something you want.”

“All right,” says Vraria. “You are searching for two rakshasas, the leader of whom is called Zathara. He is an ak’chazar rakshasa, and…”

“Sorry for interrupting,” puts in Nameless, “But what exactly is an ak’chazar? I have heard the term but don’t know what it means.”

“It is a specific kind of rakshasa that tends to be especially good at spellcasting. They have white hair, as opposed to the more common, yellow-haired, variety.”

“Same as the drapes,” grins Nameless at his companions.

“What?”

“Just an interior decoration issue we had,” he says. “Please go on.” Seeing the expression on Vraria’s face, Nameless adds, “Yes, we know. We get that a lot.”

“I see,” she says. “As I was saying, Zathara is an ak’chazar. His follower and bodyguard, Nethatar, likes to wear a particularly thick form of antique armor and she uses a saw-toothed falchion. Does that sound accurate enough?”

“Yes,” says Korm. “I see you know them. So – what is it you want from us?”

“Though Burning Keep is mostly in ruins, part of the lower levels still exists. There is a hidden doorway there. Beyond it there is a powerful guardian. If you defeat him, you will find an amulet. That is what I want.”

“What form of guardian are we talking about?” asks Gareth, curious despite himself.

“Honestly, I do not know. Whatever it is, it’s very powerful. More than a few people have gone in there and none have returned. That includes a couple of rakshasas.”

“Great,” scowls Luna.

Vraria smiles thinly. “That is actually where I sent the worshipper of the Flame and his companions. They were not that powerful, so I doubt they succeeded.”

With a sideways glance at Luna, Six says, “I’m fairly sure they didn’t.”

“Since you are being so honest,” says Nameless, “Can you tell us who and what you are? And these two,” he jerks a thumb at Uthcheq and Siyal. “And a little about how you know so much about us.”

“Very well,” says Vraria, “In the interests of full disclosure.” She looks at Gareth and smiles slightly, before addressing the rest of the Angels. “He will behave, won’t he?”

“You can talk directly to me,” growls Gareth, a second before Nameless says firmly, “Yes – he will.”

Vraria simply nods and then, a second later, her form changes. Where there was a young woman a second later, there now sits a stooped, ugly crone, with large yellow fang-like teeth, her dark purple skin, the color of a livid bruise, hanging loose in long withered folds on her frame, red-rimmed eyes staring at the Angels to see their response. She nods, almost respectfully, as none of them even flinches, though Gareth’s glower deepens. Then she points a long clawed finger at the figures that stand against the door.

Uthcheq and Siyal now stand revealed in their true forms, that of humanoid felines like all rakshasas are, but where others bear the heads of tigers, the pair have those of panthers, borne of sleek bodies covered in short, coal-black hair.

“Night hag. And naztharune rakshasas,” says Nameless, his tone clinical and unconcerned.

“Impressive,” says Vraria. “Few people would recognize a naztharune on sight.”

Nameless shrugs. “And now that we know who you are, care to explain how you know so much about us?”

Vraria shrugs too. “I have known Zathara for centuries, though I haven’t seen him a long time. He and Nethatar stopped here three days ago, and he described you and said you might be coming this way. He asked that I allow Uthcheq and Siyal to attack and kill as many of you as possible.” She looks at the group speculatively. “You must be very powerful if you worry Zathara that much.”

_I hope she’s right_, think most of the Angels, as Vraria continues, “Anyway, that is enough information for now. Let me tell you how to find and enter the secret door.”

 “One more thing,” says Luna. “Can you do something about this Taint thing? We’ve been having trouble with it, and if you can help us with it, we’ve got a better chance of kicking this guardian’s ass. We noticed the people here don’t seem to have a problem with it.” 

“Yes,” says Vraria, baring fangs in what is presumably a smile. “Some of you do look … well, like . The villagers have mostly been born in the Wastes, so they’re born immune to it, and the others have developed it over time. Which, of course, you do not have. I can provide you a temporary cure. And a permanent one after you bring me the amulet.”

She reaches down, moving aside a long and withered breast that hangs to her waist, to produce a small jar. _Oh,_ thinks Luna, _That’s just wrong!_ Vraria hands it over and says, “Place some of the ointment on your tongue.” The Angels do so, finding that the yellowish-black paste disappears almost instantly, leaving an acrid aftertaste. Immediately, they do begin to feel slightly better.

“I guess that’s it then,” says Nameless. “We will be on our way. See you again soon.”

Vraria grins toothily again. “I hope.”


----------



## Furby076

FYI - Gareths Charisma is high enough that his DC for Detect Thoughts is 20. Which means, if you don't have a crazy high wisdom, or are of the right class, you better be darned lucky to notice him using it.


----------



## Rackhir

AviLazar said:
			
		

> FYI - Gareths Charisma is high enough that his DC for Detect Thoughts is 20. Which means, if you don't have a _aren't_ crazy high wisdom, or are of the right _have pretty much any_ class _levels_, you better be darned _un-_lucky _not_ to notice him using it.




Fixed it for you.


----------



## shilsen

Nearly three hours later, the Angels stand in the ruined basement of Burning Keep, looking at a blank stone wall. Six straightens from where he has been kneeling. “The tracks end here all right. Only going in. Looks like the other Flamers didn’t make it, Gareth.”

“Don’t call them Flamers,” says Gareth, giving Luna the evil eye. “It still doesn’t excuse her taking their things.”

This time, Luna looks unabashed. She pats the backpacks slung across her shoulder and grins. “Just giving them a good home.”

“And, as I said before,” comments Nameless, as he scans the area for ambient magic, “You didn’t have trouble with it before you found out about them being Flamers. So quit complaining now.” He looks around. “No magic that I can detect. It must be very well concealed. So, let’s try the phrase.”

Korm looks at the wall and intones loudly, “Darwaza dikhao*.”

Immediately, a six inch deep recess in the stone appears, forming the shape of a rounded doorframe a dozen feet high and about eight wide. Five finely cut dragonshards are set into it at well-spaced intervals. The door is a solid slab of stone, with no sign of a handle or a method for opening.

“Guess it works,” says Korm. “Let’s get ready before I try the opening phrase. If this guardian thing is as bad as she says, we’ll need all that we’ve got.” He and his compatriots cast a number of their standard preparatory spells. “Good thing Vraria took care of that Taint for us,” says Luna, before changing into a bear.

“Yes,” nods Korm, before looking up at the door again. “Okay – here goes. Darwaza kholo.”

Again, the effect is instantaneous. The stone doorway disappears, leaving behind a five foot stretch of tunnel. The tunnel disappears into a dense, thick fog, which the Angels recognize immediately. “_Solid fog_,” says Nameless.

“I can walk through it just fine right now,” says Korm, who has just used a _freedom from movement_ on himself. “I’ll go ahead and check. You be ready.” The big orc steps into the tunnel.

As soon as he does, a surge of invisible magical energy assaults him. Korm staggers at the unexpected assault but shakes it off. “Aargh! There’s some kind of magic trap here. But I’m fine.” Undaunted, he does not even stop to heal himself, but proceeds into the fog, heading on with a hand on the wall to guide him and his sword extended to check the area ahead.

As soon as he takes a few steps, he hears the sound of soft giggling some distance ahead. Korm’s slight alarm at the sound is tempered immediately by his irritation as a question floats through the darkness behind him, in Six’s unmistakably metallic tones. “Korm – why are you giggling? And what’s wrong with your voice?”

“It’s not me! It’s something ahead.” As he speaks, Korm emerges from the fog, having covered what he estimates is sixty feet of tunnel, into the large chamber beyond it. 

The walls, ceiling and floor of the square, forty foot long, room are featureless, made of a dark grey stone, which barely reflects the numerous _continual flame_s that light it, which have been cast on apparently random locations around the chamber. Some are on the two rows of pillars that stretch down the room, holding up the ceiling twenty feet above. There are other _flame_s (and more pillars) in an adjoining room too, which Korm can see through an open door to the side.

An odd feature that Korm notes is the little holes, smaller than the diameter of his little finger, which fill the room, covering walls, floor and ceiling. His attention, however, is mainly drawn by the only denizen of the room beside him. 

Ten feet from the far wall stands a little gnome girl, maybe ten years old at best. She is dressed in a simple frock, worn under a long red hooded cloak, which ends right above the similarly colored boots on her feet. A wicker basket hangs on one arm.

Her eyes and Korm’s meet for a moment. Then, the little gnome girl smiles. And Korm’akhan, pride of the Gatekeepers, berserker bearer of the meteoric sword, who has faced mind flayers, beholders, dragons and rakshasas, turns and runs back into the fog.

Seconds later, he emerges on the other side. “What happened?” asks Gareth, surprised at Korm’s hurried arrival. “Did you see the guardian?”

“It’s a little girl,” gasps Korm.

“Wait,” asks Six, “Did you just run away from a little girl?” Luna gives a puzzled growl too. Nameless asks, “Was it something disguised as a little girl?”

“No idea,” says Korm with a scowl. “You didn’t let me finish. It’s a little _gnome_ girl.”

“Crap!” says Six, “That changes things,” and Luna again gives a corroborating growl. Nameless and Gareth immediately begin to cast a couple of extra protective spells, as does Korm. While they are doing so, Korm describes the details of the room.

Once they are done, Nameless calls through the fog, “Hello?”

A childishly female voice answers, “Hello.”

“Who are you? What is your name?”

“Name?” The voice sounds a little puzzled, and then amused. “I do not … really have a name. But you can call me Red. Won’t you come and play with me?”

Suspiciously, Nameless asks, “What do you mean by play?”

“Um … play games?” There is an accompanying amused giggle, which doesn’t have quite the same effect on the Angels.

Luna growls and gestures around her chest, causing Six to ask, “Do you have an amulet there?”

“I dunno. If you come here, maybe I can help you look?”

“Why don’t you come out here?” asks Gareth, holding Kizmet, which emanates a feeling of combined curiosity and confusion.

“I can’t come out. You should come here. If you spend more time you’ll make Wolfie mad.”

“Wolfie? That doesn’t sound good,” mutters Korm. “I didn’t see anything else in there with her, but there were lots of shadows, and there was an open door to the next chamber.”

There is no other sound from beyond the fog, and Nameless finally shrugs. “Let’s just go in there and try to deal with it. We’re as prepared as can be.” The Angels prepare themselves to head in, Korm and Luna entering together, while Nameless plans to _dimension door_ the rest past the fog. 

Again, as soon as Korm (and this time, Luna) cross the threshold, they stagger under the impact of a magical assault. At the same time, Nameless casts his spell, but nothing happens. “Hold it!” Nameless casts a _detect magic_ and soon says, “I detect a moderately powerful abjuration. Considering how it affects you whenever you enter, I’m guessing it’s a _forbiddance_. It’ll hurt us all as we enter, but once in, we’ll be fine. Unfortunately, it blocks all dimensional travel spells, including _dimension door_ and _teleport_, as well as all summonings.”

Luna growls her irritation, as the alienist continues, “Anyway, can’t be helped. Let’s go on.” Luna, Gareth and he enter, wincing at the pain, and then the Angels stop to restore everyone to complete health. Having done so, they proceed through the _solid fog_. As they are doing so, Luna feels a whiff of air behind her. Reaching back with a rear paw, she feels it slide on an incredibly smooth and hard barrier, though Nameless, turning around to look, can see nothing. “Ah, great!” says Nameless. “I think it’s a _Wall of Force_.”

With no real option, the group continues carefully through the fog. They emerge into the chamber Korm described, to face the smiling visage of the little girl. “Ooh!” she squeals in excitement, “Lots of friends.” She peers at Six. “And a tin and wood man!” Then she lifts up her basket. “Do you want a treat?”

Korm looks around at the others, shrugs and steps forward. “Sure.”

Red steps forward, lifting the cover off the basket, to show that it is full of flat biscuit-like creations, brownish-gray in color and shaped like little bones. “Have one?” says Red.

“All right, I’ll try one,” says Korm, picking one up. As he is popping it into his mouth, he asks, “So, can you help us find this amulet we need?”

“Okay,” says Red, with a happy smile. “Do you like the treat?”

Korm chews and finds that the ‘treat’ is made of dried, solidified meat. As he swallows, he finds it has little specks of a harder substance in it. One larger and sharper piece catches in Korm’s teeth and he pulls it out, to see that it is a little shard of bone.

As he looks at it, Red says, “Give me a kiss?” She spreads her arms to be lifted, and as he looks down at her, Korm suddenly feels a powerful will insinuate itself into his mind, pushing aside all mental barriers and compelling him to obey her commands.

“Sure,” he says, or at least his body does, while his psyche claws desperately at the magical bonds from the back of his mind. To no avail. Korm picks Red up and kisses her on the cheek, while she throws both arms around his neck.

At her touch, Korm immediately feels a strange weakness** overcome him. His movements slow slightly, his thoughts become a little fuzzy and he feels his two most powerful dweomers slip from his mind. His companions, who have been watching with bemusement, see his face turn suddenly and deadly pale.

On the positive side, the effect breaks the control she had exerted over him and, with a startled cry of mingled pain, fear and anger, Korm hurls the little girl away from him as hard as he can. Red too lets out a startled cry as her small form flies through the air, but she never hits the ground. As she is thrown, both Luna and Six notice that her shadow is absolutely huge, much larger than should be, and moving in a manner that doesn’t fit her movements.

Now, moving with breathtaking speed, the shadow wraps around Red, stopping her fall in midair. As she hangs suspended for a second, more and more shadows wrap around her, expanding in size and taking on solidity. Within a second of Korm hurling her away, instead of Red there stands an ogre-sized creature, its heavily muscled form covered in what seems to be sleek ebony skin, its two long arms tapering down to large hands with cruelly hooked claws. Even more strangely, it has no head, its torso ending where a neck should be. Instead, Red’s head, still covered in her hooded cloak, protrudes from its chest. 

She wears an expression of mild concern, and says, in an admonishing manner, “Now see what you did, silly? You made Wolfie really mad!”

Even as she speaks, the Angels burst into violent motion. The two druids are the fastest, unleashing claws and blade against it, but they might as well be attacking a mountain, for all the effect their weapons have, bouncing off the creature’s ebony hide without scratching it. Even as they charge in together, Nameless casts a spell and the air ripples, a bolt of sonic energy sliding neatly between them. To the alienist’s surprise, his target, large as it is, nimbly sidesteps, letting the attack pass harmlessly by.

Its movement takes it closer to an onrushing Gareth, who calls aloud upon the Flame, bringing Kizmet down in a gleaming arc that trails silver fire in its wake. Even Red, turning her head from where it protrudes from the chest of ‘Wolfie’ comments appreciatively, “Ooh – pretty!” And then Wolfie’s arm moves with amazing speed, deflecting Kizmet just enough that the blade hits its shoulder at an angle and bounces off.

“!” says Six, as he dives by to try and catch the enemy between them. “We’re in trouble.” Deciding to try something different, the warforged swings low, his chain wrapping around its left leg. He tugs as hard as he can, and then stumbles off balance as Wolfie pulls back with much greater force. With a curse, Six lets go his chain and reaches for another. More cheerfully, Red says sympathetically, “Oopsie!”

Wolfie pauses to kick away the chain around its leg and then turns to Luna. Suddenly, a dark, wolflike head appears above its shoulders and it howls wildly. Overly muscular arms reach out to sink claws deep into the bear’s side and then rip and tear, while the head snaps long teeth into her back. Luna groans, feeling a similar draining sensation to the one Korm just felt, spells fading from her mind as well. Wolfie howls again in triumph and then its head fades away as quickly as it appeared.

The next few seconds are full of fear, frustration and fleeting relief for the Angels. Wolfie moves with unusual speed and its rocklike form blocks most blows. Even when sword and spell do connect, they inflict less damage than they should, and the wounds are closing, if ever so slowly. And to round things off, the creature seems resistant to magic as well.

Nevertheless, the wounds do accumulate. Six is soon pulling a third chain from his magical haversack, but the distraction he provides lets the others have a chance to hit. Nameless, having quickly cast the _assay resistance_ spell Saala Torrn gifted him, batters Wolfie with _magic missile_s. The Silver Flame finally comes through for Gareth, Kizmet blazing a deep wound across the creature’s chest. And, unlike the wounds left by Korm’s sword, Six’s chain and Luna’s claws, this wound seems completely unaffected by the creature’s ability to absorb some of its wounds.

With an angry growl, Wolfie lashes out, laying Gareth’s arm open, draining him just as it has the others. And then the shadows in the chamber seem to rise up and swirl around it, and both Wolfie and Red are gone.

“What the hell?” says Korm, looking around, as do his companions. “Is it gone?” He concentrates and his nose and mouth lengthen into a muzzle, the hairs on it standing to attention, and he sniffs the still air around him. Though neither he nor the others can see it, Korm’s now heightened sense of smell lets him pick out a strange scent, dry and desiccated. And it is moving, passing behind and around a pillar to come up on the side of the Angels, who are looking around for it.

As Korm shouts a warning, Luna emits a similar growl, her sense of scent having pinpointed the same target. Even though she knows precisely where it is and is looking right at the spot, she sees nothing. _But that’s not going to stop me_, thinks the druid bear, lifting a claw and gesturing, while she growls an incantation. Immediately, a lavender glow appears in the area, outlining Wolfie’s form for all to see.

And target. As the surprised creature, which has been enjoying the chance of sneaking up on its enemies, pauses, the Angels rush it. And this time, luck seems to favor them. Wolfie is in the middle of a step when Six’s chain wraps around its leg, and the warforged hurls himself to the side. For a moment, Wolfie teeters and then crashes to the ground. Immediately, Luna and Korm are on it, hacking and slashing, while another spell from Nameless smashes into it. Most damagingly again, Gareth steps forward and slashes down at it with Kizmet.

Wolfie howls again, this time in both pain and rage, and then its form falls apart into a mistlike vapor. The reason for the holes is immediately revealed as the vapor flows into the floor and disappears.

“Did we kill it?” asks Six. Nameless shakes his head. “I doubt it. And I just realized what it is. The ability to drain our energy and to assume _gaseous form_? It’s a …”

“Vampire,” completes Gareth, grimly. “No wonder the damn thing was so resistant to your weapons.”

“Not yours, however,” comments Korm.

“I’m special.” Gareth smiles slightly as he calls on Kizmet to heal his wounds.

“No time to waste,” says Nameless. “Let’s check the other room.”

The Angels hurry through the connecting door and short tunnel to find themselves in a similarly lighted – and perforated – room, but much larger, and with multiple rows of pillars. They quickly spread out and begin to search the room, but neither magical nor mundane checking reveals anything hidden.

A minute has passed, when Nameless is very unpleasantly surprised by a cloud of vapor, still outlined in lavender light, which flows out of the ground next to him. Even as he calls a warning, it transforms back into the form of Wolfie. The ebony form still bears the scars of some of the wounds the Angels had inflicted, but most of them have been healed. Red’s face still protrudes from its chest, and she smiles cheerfully, and says, “I spy, with my little eye – you!”

“Spy this!” mutters Nameless, stepping back and unleashing a spell. The alienist throws all of his magical energy and knowledge into it, crafting the most powerful _fireball_ that he has ever cast or seen***. And as the magical flames blossom, he screams in frustration as Wolfie nimbly dodges between the bursts of fire, leaping out and away from their path.

Focused on the magic as they are, both Nameless and the creature have missed a more mundane factor. Even as the _fireball_ is exploding, Luna is charging forward. Seeing the creature leaping away and hearing Nameless shout in anger, she abandons her planned attack and simply throws her bulk into Wolfie. Nearly two thousand pounds of angry bear slam into it, smashing it back into the heart of the flames****.

It screams, as flesh melts, chars and falls to dust. And this is when Wolfie makes its second mistake. The first was to return to the attack before it was fully healed from its wounds. And now, badly wounded, it should flee through the holes, where the Angels cannot follow, and return later. But it is both pained and completely infuriated. Bound to this place centuries ago, the guardian lives a strange semi-life, doomed to remain in stasis until intruders appear, fighting and destroying them, and then being returned to stasis shortly afterwards. Its only function is to destroy, though the strange humor of its rakshasa creator displays itself in the twin personality of Red and Wolfie that he put together into it. It is only sentient in a limited sense. And it does not completely believe that it might lose. In all the years since its creation, whatever it has faced, whether human, orc, elf, ogre, giant or rakshasa, it has destroyed. And nothing has ever hurt it quite as much as the Angels have. Whatever veneer of sentience the creature has is lost as it focuses purely on destruction.

It howls its anger and pain, before lashing out at Nameless with all its power. He is lifted from the floor and a flurry of claws and fangs lay his chest and throat open to the bone. Even so, the alienist might have remained barely conscious, but the additional, automatic draining of energy is too much to bear, and he drops into a rapidly spreading pool of blood. 

But even as he goes down, his allies swarm all over the enemy. Sword, chain and claw strike home, and again, Kizmet strikes the deadliest blow. This time, Wolfie’s body falls apart into streamers of shadow that flash out of existence. All they leave behind is Red’s falling form, which turns into another cloud of smoke before it hits the ground. It seeps through the holes, a parting bolt of flame from Luna passing harmlessly through it.

“Did we kill it?” asks Six again.

“Not really,” says Gareth. “If it’s a true vampire, it will return, after taking time to recover in its coffin. That can take hours. But we beat it.”

To underline his words, there is a loud ‘click’ and a large panel flips open in the wall, to reveal a peg from which an amulet hangs, while a number of items, mostly clothing, are arrayed beneath it. Korm, Six and Gareth hurry to it.

A loud growl interrupts them, and they turn to see Luna standing over Nameless’s form. She shakes her head in disgust at them and then channels as powerful a spell as she can. The alienist convulses, as many of his wounds close, and groggily opens his eyes. “Since I'm still breathing, I presume we won.”

“Yes,” says Korm. “And we found the amulet.”

He turns to examine it, a dark metal oval shaped into the snarling head of a rakshasa, hanging from a similar dark metal chain. Korm reaches out to pick it up. As he touches the amulet, he feels a wave of weakness wash over him, similar to what the guardian’s touch did, but twice as powerful. 

With a curse, Korm drops the amulet, and the feeling of weakness instantly disappears. “O-kay!” He carefully picks the amulet up with a cloth, making sure not to contact it, and sticks it in a bag. Then he and the others quickly grab the rest of the items there. “Let’s get out of here.”

Nameless, shakily having climbed back to his feet and then onto Luna’s back, nods. “I just hope that _wall of force_ isn’t there. If it is, we’re screwed.”

Luckily for the Angels, it isn’t, and seconds later they are back in the basement of Burning Keep. As they emerge from the secret chamber, the stone door flashes back into existence behind them, so close that it shaves a few hairs off Luna’s tail. Seconds later, there’s a rumble from the surrounding stone. Even though it has apparently stood for centuries, cracks begin to appear in it and dust streams down from the crumbling ceiling. As the Angels hurry up the stairs, the rumbling gets louder and turns into the sound of crashing stone, as the lowest level, followed more slowly by the penultimate one, and then the one above it, collapses in on itself. As they emerge into the top level, a thick cloud of dust billows up the stairs after them. Waving away the dust, they see that it is blocked from only a few feet down with debris and rubble.

“Well, nobody’s going down there again,” says Six.

“Good riddance,” says Nameless, while Korm and a now shifter Luna begin to heal the group one by one. “At least we got what we wanted and came out alive. I’m just curious what kind of bastard would design such a thing and put it down there.”


* Why, yes – fiends do use Hindi for all magical passwords.
** 2 negative levels
*** Rolled a 53 on 10d6
**** More mundanely, that was me allowing Luna’s player to throw in an action point (Nameless already had asked to do so and rolled but not well enough) to lower the enemy’s save to the point where he failed to make it. See – I really am just a pussycat.


----------



## Vorput

Well, I finally finished reading the story hour (I told myself I wouldn't post until I was done)- but well done Shilsen!!

I've really enjoyed reading the write-ups and watching the continuing adventures of the Angels as they find themselves in strange situation after strange situation.

Printed off installments of this story hour are at least 85% responsible for the keeping of my sanity in my Hebrew class!

Now comes the sad day when I have to wait for the installments as they come weekly... like everyone else...  ::sniffs::

Awesome Job- you've basically sold me on trying Eberron as a setting in the next game I DM, and I've gotten plenty of ideas (from your setting and player's actions alike) to use in future campaigns.

Keep it up!   

-Vorp


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> Well, I finally finished reading the story hour (I told myself I wouldn't post until I was done)- but well done Shilsen!!
> 
> I've really enjoyed reading the write-ups and watching the continuing adventures of the Angels as they find themselves in strange situation after strange situation.
> 
> Printed off installments of this story hour are at least 85% responsible for the keeping of my sanity in my Hebrew class!
> 
> Now comes the sad day when I have to wait for the installments as they come weekly... like everyone else...  ::sniffs::
> 
> Awesome Job- you've basically sold me on trying Eberron as a setting in the next game I DM, and I've gotten plenty of ideas (from your setting and player's actions alike) to use in future campaigns.
> 
> Keep it up!
> 
> -Vorp




Glad you're enjoying it. Shil should have another update in the next couple of days. There's been a fair amount of banter with the Night Hag.

If you're looking for another good read, you might want to try the Chronicles of Burne and Some Others of Lesser Importance. That's the tuesday campaign Shil and I are in. It's funnier and has a higher pun quotient, though it's not quite as dramatic as Shil's campaign. There's a link in my sig above.


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Well, I finally finished reading the story hour (I told myself I wouldn't post until I was done)- but well done Shilsen!!
> 
> I've really enjoyed reading the write-ups and watching the continuing adventures of the Angels as they find themselves in strange situation after strange situation.
> 
> Printed off installments of this story hour are at least 85% responsible for the keeping of my sanity in my Hebrew class!




Thanks. I couldn't have done it without the fairly insane combination of players I have.

And that's the first time anybody's ever mentioned that I protected them from Hebrew class 



> Now comes the sad day when I have to wait for the installments as they come weekly... like everyone else...  ::sniffs::




Sadly, we're not playing till the weekend of the 2nd/3rd December, but I should have one more up in a couple of days. Things are rapidly coming to a head with the Angels and the rakshasas.



> Awesome Job- you've basically sold me on trying Eberron as a setting in the next game I DM, and I've gotten plenty of ideas (from your setting and player's actions alike) to use in future campaigns.
> 
> Keep it up!
> 
> -Vorp




Thanks again. I think it's fairly obvious that I really like the setting (at least partly because it has many built-in preconceptions and tropes that I was always fond of using), so I'm glad I might get someone else to try and enjoy it.


----------



## shilsen

*Handled between sessions:*

Once it’s clear that the rest of the tower is not about to fall, the Angels stop to rest and heal up as much as possible. Despite the healing, everyone besides Six bears the marks of their encounter with the vampire guardian, and there is nothing at hand to be able to deal with it. They also take the time for Nameless to study the magical auras of the items that they recovered. He is fairly certain of most of them, but two are difficult to determine, namely one ring and the belt.

Luna immediately offers to try both on. The ring provides no signs of its nature, but the belt, after experimentation, appears to have the same effect as the _greater magic fang_ spell she likes to use. Interestingly, when she wears it and wildshapes, the belt remains active and changes to look like a dark strip of hair (or feathers, as a bird) encircling her midriff. Luna’s great pleasure at the discovery is slightly lessened when Gareth points out that it draws attention to her middle and makes her look fat.

Nameless, meanwhile, also studies the amulet, without actually touching it physically. He finds that it has strong auras of abjuration, conjuration and transmutation, but can make out nothing else about it.

Once all of this is done, the Angels head back towards Rotting Blade. The return trip takes longer than it should, since they have to detour around half a dozen creatures, which are currently feasting on the bodies of the three giant lizards the slew on the way. These look like large predatory cats in general shape, but have reddish scales and a row of foot-long spines growing down the middle of their backs, as well as an extra set of legs. Considering their condition, the Angels decide to swing wide around them, rather than risk another unnecessary battle, and manage to do so successfully.

It is late afternoon by the time they reach Rotting Blade. Though night falls early in the Demon Wastes, it seems to be doing so much faster this day, with the sky seeming darker than it should be when they near the village. Or perhaps it is just a particularly thick pall of smoke from the many volcanoes and flame pits of the area.

When they enter the village, the people again say nothing to them, though the Angels notice more of them are watching covertly. Gareth picks up a fair amount of curiosity in the minds he passes, as they return to the central tavern. Once there, they find Siyal waiting in human form, who quickly leads them through the back room, down to the cellar, and to the room where they had met Vraria.

Vraria is there, talking to Uthcheq, who is still in his orc form. He moves away and takes a position opposite Siyal and beside the door, taking on his true form (as Siyal already has). Vraria, also in her true form as a night hag, looks at the Angels with gleaming eyes. But as she looks around, noting that all of them are there, disappointment grows clearly in her eyes.

“So,” she says, “Since you are all here, I presume that means you did not encounter the guardian?” Hopefully, she adds, “Or did you?”

Nameless replies, “Ah – that information will cost you extra. There are a number of things you might be interested in knowing about that tower. But we can discuss that, once we have satisfied ourselves as to the quality of the information you have promised us.”

Vraria frowns slightly but then smoothes her countenance. “Maybe. But more importantly, do you have the amulet? And if so....”

She extends a hand.

Nameless shows her the amulet, make sure she gets a good look at it, and then drops it back into the _bag of holding_.

”I don’t wish to be rude, but we have just faced down a most ‘interesting’ guardian to retrieve this on your behalf and we do need that information. Before you raise the obvious objection, we WILL live up to our half of the bargain. If for no other reason than that we have no desire to make additional enemies. The ones we have currently are more than sufficient and I am getting very tired of people screwing with us.”

Nameless pauses to smile broadly. “Besides, I’d never hear the end of it from Korm, if we didn’t live up to our agreement. Do you know that he actually insisted that we negotiate in good faith with a mindflayer? And he’s a Gatekeeper.”

He ignores the dirty look from Korm and concludes, “So the information first please.”

Luna pipes in at this point, raising a hand to attract Vraria’s attention. “Hi. Would you happen to have a _restoration_ or something lying around nearby? And feel free to remove this Taint any time.”

Vraria stares at Luna for a bit and then says, “You are insane. Still, that can be taken care of – and in fact, I can handle that more easily when I have the amulet.”

She looks past Luna and speaks a few syllables to her servitors. Only Nameless understands, since the language is Fiendish, the command to be, “Watch the wizard. If he, or anybody else, tries to flee with the bag, kill him.” The intent, however, is clear to everyone, as both of the naztharunes step forward quickly, shortswords appearing in their hands, to position themselves behind Nameless.

As they move, Vraria quickly adds, this time in Common, “Do not be alarmed. There is no danger – as long as you keep your side of the bargain. If you try to leave with that bag, you” (she looks at Nameless) “Will die for sure.”

Vraria then takes a seat and says, “Here is the information - and I have a little extra for you. Zathara has, for centuries, been interested in the Lake of Fire, or more precisely, in what is bound beneath it. The Lake of Fire is a few miles from here, and though I don’t know who lies beneath it, I know it is one of the greatest of the Rajahs. Whether Zathara wants to awaken him, or it, or simply to leach some of his power, I don’t know. Whatever benefits Zathara most, I presume.”

“I have worked with him for short periods before, mainly because it benefited me and there was never any fear that he might succeed. I don’t want one of the Rajahs out any more than you, I presume, do. There’s no way to predict the results. I have a very comfortable situation here, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Whatever he found in your lands, I don’t know, but I know Zathara was more excited about it than I’ve ever seen him. He clearly thinks that it’ll help him succeed at whatever he has planned. When he stopped here, that was only to inform me to slay you if you ever showed up.” Vraria looks speculatively around the group, which does quite look the worse for wear now. “For some reason, you have him worried.” She shrugs. “Well, you did defeat the guardian, whatever it was, and I know it has slain rakshasas before, so maybe he has reason.”

“Anyhow, I know he was going to a lair he has to the north, in order to recover some things and make preparations, before returning here. As soon as you left, I sent Uthcheq here to the volcano. And he returned only minutes before you came. Uthcheq – tell them what you saw.”

The panther-headed rakshasa speaks, but the blades in his paws, only inches from Nameless’s back, don’t move. “I was watching the Lake of Fire from a distance, and after an hour, I saw three figures appear on the lower slopes to the West. I quickly moved closer and verified that while all three were rakshasas, one was an ak’chazar. It must have been Zathara. He held up a small object, like a rod made of crystal or a large dragonshard, and an amber beam shone from it. A doorway appeared in the side of the volcano and the ak’chazar, and one other, this one carrying the blade that Nethatar wields, entered. The other rakshasa waited by the doorway. As soon as the two entered, there was an explosion.” He looks at Vraria. “I hurried back to tell you. As I was coming, I heard a loud rumbling and the Lake began to spew smoke into the air, and I think I saw a small eruption.”

As he ends, Vraria says, “And there you have it. They are at the Lake of Fire, where Zathara is trying to achieve whatever he has been seeking to. You must have seen the darkness in the sky when you were arriving. That is the smoke from the Lake. You have no time, so hand over the amulet, let me help you as I can, and leave.”

There is a moment’s silence as everyone digests what she said, and then Nameless quietly takes the amulet out of the bag and hands it over to her, saying, “Well, it sounds like we are all about to run out of time.”

As he is doing so, silver flames erupt in a diagonal line down Gareth's back. Luckily for Nameless, the naztharune are very well-trained, and Vraria did tell them to kill him only if someone tried to escape, so the blades at his back move barely an inch closer before they stop.

“What th...,” begins Vraria, before she recovers to quickly grab the amulet from Nameless's hand. She quickly drops the chain around her neck, letting it dangle on her withered chest, and then completes the original sentence. “What the Hells is that?”

It is now clear that the flames, which continue to burn, are running up and down the sheathed blade of Kizmet. They do not harm or burn Gareth in any way, but those near him can feel their heat. Gareth, however, notices something extra. For a moment, there is a voice, a harsh, metallic voice, in his head. “The Lake of Fire. You must go to the Lake.” A scene flashes in his mind, the scene from his dream where he holds the Key in one hand and Kizmet in the other. Then both voice and scene fade, and, a few seconds later, so do the flames.

Silent for a moment, more due to shock than anything else, Gareth smiles happily, his face masked behind his helmet. As the flames die down, he says, “She is correct. We must go to the Lake of Fire. There we will defeat our prey and complete this holy quest.” Silently, the paladin gives a prayer to the Silver Flame, thanking the Flame for its help and guidance.

Vraria looks a little suspiciously at Gareth, and then settles for a comment of “You need to be careful with that sword. Do that in the wrong place and you’ll be dead before you know it.” 

Then she switches her attention to the amulet. She looks down at it and smiles, before stroking it gently in an almost lascivious manner. “Just to make sure...,” she mutters, and then looks back up. “Would you,” (she points at Nameless) “Please _detect magic_ on me, and you,” (she indicates Gareth) “Detect my thoughts?” Vraria puts her hands on her hips and waits.

Nameless shrugs and complies, detecting the same magical auras as before on the amulet and also picking up a few magical auras on her. Gareth, meanwhile, picks up the surface thought, “I'm thinking that you very likely are screwed.” 

“So,” Vraria asks, “What did you pick up?” When they answer, she grins toothily, and then places a hand on the amulet. After a few seconds, she says, “Now try it again.”

This time, there is no effect whatsoever. As far as Nameless’s spell and Gareth’s divine ability are concerned, Vraria might as well not exist. When they explain what happened (or rather, didn’t), she smiles broadly, and says, sounding just a little relieved, “I always did want to experience the joys of a _Mind Blank_.”

Vraria sighs contentedly and says, “It is the Amulet I wanted. You have done very well – better than I really expected. Since you have little time, let’s make this quick. What sort of help do you need?” She looks at Luna. "A _restoration_, you said. And a cure for the Taint. Anything else?”

“Most of us could use a _restoration_, except for him.” Nameless jerks a thumb at Six. “Also, if you can speed up our transit to the Lake of Fire, that would seem to be advisable. I lost my _teleport_s when I was drained by the guardian. There’s also a ring we recovered from the guardian. It would be nice to know if it’s useful.”

Vraria is about to reply to Nameless, when Luna breaks in. “Do me first! I’m already molting and retaining water! I simply can’t also have taint and be energy drained too! It’s unseemly! And I feel all cross and put out! And like I can’t enjoy killing things or even playing with our new magic items in this condition!”

The night hag smiles thinly at her words. “You people really are a little insane. Hopefully that makes you the right ones to stop Zathara.” The tone of voice betrays a little uncertainty about that.

”To that end, I’ll do what I can to make things easier for you. After all,” she adds with a real smile this time, “I might as well try out the limits of my new toy. All those who need healing, hold hands.”

When they do so, Vraria reaches out and touches Luna’s shoulder. Luna feels a warmth flow in from her hand and spread instantly through her body. The next person feels the warmth flow in from Luna’s hand and spread through and to the next person. And so on, till everyone feels it. Vraria closes her eyes, raises her other hand to grasp the amulet, and concentrates. 

After a couple of seconds, starting with the last person, the warmth recedes. And as it passes, so does the feeling of weakness that they have had since the battle with the guardian. And even the least lingering traces of the Taint. As Luna feels the last of the warmth drain from her, Vraria staggers, even her purplish-black complexion paling, and almost falls. The two naztharune rakshasas tense, their blades ready to strike if needed, but Vraria gestures quickly. “Stop – I’m fine.”

She straightens, still looking weak, and again closes a hand around the amulet. She closes her eyes and, after a second, her normal blackish-purple complexion reasserts itself. “Aaah!”

Reopening her eyes, she says, “That’s as much as I can do for you right now. And I can’t get you to the Lake of Fire any more quickly. It’s almost directly to the northeast. Four miles. You’ll see it easily enough once you get past the second set of hills in that direction. With what’s going on in the sky, I don’t think you can miss it. The door’s easy enough to see. To the southwest – right, Uthcheq?" The naztharune nods silently.

“There you are. As for that ring you mentioned...,” Vraria stops and walks over to a cabinet and produces an ornately carved chest. She opens it and after rummaging inside for a bit, pulls out a scroll and tosses it to Nameless. “That should do it, but you’ll have to use the spell.”

“And now, I suggest you leave. Quickly.” Vraria pauses and looks around at all of the Angels, clearly weighing their potential. “And, paladin or not, I suggest you all pray.”


----------



## Vorput

::crosses fingers that Gareth's next move will be to smite the night hag::

Just to, you know, spice things up a bit.


----------



## Sidekick

<grabs popcorn and settles in>

Ohhh I feel a big climactic battle coming up. I hop ethat the Angels do the job and stop the Rhakshassa's.

or failing that all die trying with Gareth completeing that final smite beofre he falls into teh lake of fire and dies. 

That would be cinematic.

A shame but a cinematic shame...


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> ::crosses fingers that Gareth's next move will be to smite the night hag::
> 
> Just to, you know, spice things up a bit.




I don't know if this will please or frighten you, but this is exactly the sort of suggestion that Shilsen is always making to us. He was even trying to tempt us to screw over the Hag with regards to the Amulet, despite the fact that it was causing 4 negative levels to anyone (presumably non-evil) who was touching it.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> I don't know if this will please or frighten you, but this is exactly the sort of suggestion that Shilsen is always making to us. He was even trying to tempt us to screw over the Hag with regards to the Amulet, despite the fact that it was causing 4 negative levels to anyone (presumably non-evil) who was touching it.



 I deny the accusation. The fact that I provided a couple of indications of how full of yummy goodness the amulet was has purely for flavor reasons. It has absolutely nothing to do with trying to get the PCs into even more trouble than they already are. Nothing, I tell you.

P.S. The amulet actually messes up non-outsiders. So once Nameless has achieved apotheosis he can go back and kick Vraria's ass and take it. It's a minor artifact, BTW.



			
				Sidekick said:
			
		

> <grabs popcorn and settles in>
> 
> Ohhh I feel a big climactic battle coming up. I hop ethat the Angels do the job and stop the Rhakshassa's.
> 
> or failing that all die trying with Gareth completeing that final smite beofre he falls into teh lake of fire and dies.
> 
> That would be cinematic.
> 
> A shame but a cinematic shame...




Yes, I think it's safe to say there's a climactic fight coming up all right. And in all honesty, I don't know how this one will go. In all of the fights the PCs have had so far, including ones where they got beat down, I could generally predict which side would win. But this time, there are going to be enough elements in play (including a couple that the PCs don't know of) that I just don't know. Of course, with my action point rule, the PCs aren't likely to lose unless they all lose, but that just means it's likely to be an 'everyone survives' or TPK.

Speaking of which, I'm going to be dropping action pts for this fight and doing something different. The one downside with the action pts the way I do it (rerolls are always an 11-20 on d20) is that a PC literally can't fail on one of their good saves if using an action pt. And with me allowing 2 action pts per session and usually having only 1-2 fights, they can invariably always choose to use one. While I don't like action pts to be used with no result, I don't want them to mean auto-success on saves either. 

So what I'm going to be doing is replacing them with swashbuckling cards. We use them in a game I'm in run by Rolzup (the author of Burne's Story Hour, in my sig) and they've worked very well. They're more random than action pts but can often be much more effective. And are usually funny as heck. They will also be able to prevent death, as the action pts do, but will be a little more cost-intensive in that area. I've been meaning to try them out in my game, and what better time than in a climactic fight where the fate of Khorvaire can be decided? It's not as if anything might go wrong


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:
			
		

> P.S. The amulet actually messes up non-outsiders. So once Nameless has achieved apotheosis he can go back and kick Vraria's ass and take it. It's a minor artifact, BTW.




It had better be!!! An amulet that provides a continuous mind blank... Every PC I've ever played is drooling.


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> It had better be!!! An amulet that provides a continuous mind blank... Every PC I've ever played is drooling.




Well Nameless has been lusting after Mind Blank for quite a few levels now, ever since it became clear that someone was keeping a close eye on us. So I'm sure that it gave Shilsen great delight to hand us an item he couldn't use and would have to give up.

Though if you can cast Mind Blank, it does last a day per casting, 2 if you can extend it. So having an item that can do it isn't so important from a duration aspect.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Well Nameless has been lusting after Mind Blank for quite a few levels now, ever since it became clear that someone was keeping a close eye on us. So I'm sure that it gave Shilsen great delight to hand us an item he couldn't use and would have to give up.




Tsk, tsk - what a horribly suspicious mind you have 

And Nameless could actually use the amulet once he identified it. He'd just be taking 4 negative levels when doing so.



> Though if you can cast Mind Blank, it does last a day per casting, 2 if you can extend it. So having an item that can do it isn't so important from a duration aspect.




True. It's having access to it in the first place which is the really handy bit, especially in a place like Eberron where you have barely any spellcasters capable of casting at that level.

Speaking of which, if the PCs come out of this alive, when they get back to Sharn they're really going to be among the most powerful in their respective fields in the entire city. The three primary spellcasters, at least, would be the highest level characters of their class. Should open up some interesting possibilities.


----------



## shilsen

Just got back from the game, which went very well. We had an absolute humdinger of a battle, a couple of very interesting occurrences, and some hilarious tactical moves (partly inspired by the swashbuckling cards). All in all, I am a happy DM.

Unfortunately, I am a very busy DM too, so it'll be at least the middle of the week before I can update. I'll probably go for a number of short regular (maybe daily) updates, starting with Thursday.


----------



## Rackhir

Sidekick said:
			
		

> AviLazar - I think that Gareth is a top class paladin.








Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe....


----------



## Rackhir

So, people seemed quite interested in the characters for "The Chronicles of Burne and Some Others of Lesser Importance", the story hour for the other campaign that Shil and I are in. Any interest in a Rogue's Gallery for the PCs in Shil's Story hour?


----------



## Gold Roger

Rackhir said:
			
		

> So, people seemed quite interested in the characters for "The Chronicles of Burne and Some Others of Lesser Importance", the story hour for the other campaign that Shil and I are in. Any interest in a Rogue's Gallery for the PCs in Shil's Story hour?




That would be nice, especially if Shilsen would be nice enough to also give us some of his meaner NPC's stats.


----------



## Rackhir

Gold Roger said:
			
		

> That would be nice, especially if Shilsen would be nice enough to also give us some of his meaner NPC's stats.




I'll work on putting up Nameless tonight. Gareth doesn't get to post his until after the update.


----------



## Vorput

Rackhir said:
			
		

> I'll work on putting up Nameless tonight. Gareth doesn't get to post his until after the update.




....lol- that sounds foreboding...


----------



## shilsen

Gold Roger said:
			
		

> That would be nice, especially if Shilsen would be nice enough to also give us some of his meaner NPC's stats.



 Happy to do so. 

I just collected 150+ papers from students to grade today, so I'm going to be really busy for a while, but I should be able to add a lot of stuff to the Rogue's Gallery during the winter break.



			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> ....lol- that sounds foreboding...




Foreboding is right. Let's just say I got to be ratbastardly in a way that I'd been planning and moving towards for 45 sessions and 2 years (of real time). It was great.

Maybe only for me


----------



## Rackhir

Gold Roger said:
			
		

> That would be nice, especially if Shilsen would be nice enough to also give us some of his meaner NPC's stats.




Ask and Ye Shall receive.

I'll add some notes on Nameless's background when I get a chance.


----------



## Solarious

shilsen said:
			
		

> True. It's having access to it in the first place which is the really handy bit, especially in a place like Eberron where you have barely any spellcasters capable of casting at that level.



Very true. I wonder how much they can mess up Sharn when (or should I say if) it happens (that is to say, the city could be in ruins after another bad hair day for Luna). I'm also curious how they would outfit their apartment, assuming their contacts with the Blackened Book can overcome the overwhelming negative response from the community. I'm sure it will come with lots of Dimensional Locked areas, anti-scrying measures, and Rasheska tapestries and drapes.

Well, assuming they get a hold of the tiger-man corpses. But that's assuming too much. We need to wait to see what happens to Gareth first before turning to weighty matters such as interior decorating. 

In either case, it looks like Nameless is going shopping for Permenancy!



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Speaking of which, if the PCs come out of this alive, when they get back to Sharn they're really going to be among the most powerful in their respective fields in the entire city. The three primary spellcasters, at least, would be the highest level characters of their class. Should open up some interesting possibilities.



Also true! They are rapidly approaching that phase when the BBEG personalities of Eberron become their peers... although frankly, we all know Shilsen knows exactly how to make them both kittens and those disturbed serial killers at the same time.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Very true. I wonder how much they can mess up Sharn when (or should I say if) it happens (that is to say, the city could be in ruins after another bad hair day for Luna). I'm also curious how they would outfit their apartment, assuming their contacts with the Blackened Book can overcome the overwhelming negative response from the community. I'm sure it will come with lots of Dimensional Locked areas, anti-scrying measures, and Rasheska tapestries and drapes.




Don't forget the stuffed mind flayer they now have. They've got all sorts of horrible ideas, like setting it up with a _magic mouth_ to greet salesmen at the door with a "Braaaains!" That neighbourhood is going to go to hell.



> Also true! They are rapidly approaching that phase when the BBEG personalities of Eberron become their peers... although frankly, we all know Shilsen knows exactly how to make them both kittens and those disturbed serial killers at the same time.






To start off the updates, here's a short one. Since I'm still really busy with work and likely to be for at least a week, I'll shoot for a number of short, regular (daily or every two days) updates until I get caught up. 

*********************************************************************
*Handled over email:*

The Angels wait only for Nameless to use the scroll, which is of _analyze dweomer_, to study the ring. The way that his eyes light up serves some indication of its nature even before he explains. It is of a kind he has not seen or heard of before, allowing the wearer to imbue the spells he casts with certain effects, making them more powerful, last longer, reach further, and the like. The fact that it allows casting of some minor spells and provides keener understanding of magic is almost irrelevant. Nameless quickly dons it, as the group departs hurriedly.

By the time they leave Rotting Blade, the sky is slightly darker, or at least so they imagine. Crossing the first set of hills to the northeast, they find another small line of them approximately a mile to the east, running almost directly north across their path. As the travelers approach, even with the lower visibility of the Wastes, its atmosphere polluted by smoke from the numerous fire pits and small volcanoes, they can make out the rough shape of a column of smoke and fire almost directly northeast. 

As the Angels approach these hills, the shape of the column grows clearer, even as the rise of the hills hides its source. Soon enough, they find their way over one of the lower slopes, emerging onto one end of a rolling plain. As is usual in this area, at points it rises into small mounts, a couple of them glowing with volcanic activity. One of them completely overshadows the others, and for that matter every volcano they have seen here or elsewhere, which stands just over two miles away. 

This one is absolutely huge, not so much in height as in width. The crater at the top, the source of the smoke column, from the edges of which liquid flame trickles in slow red streams, must stretch a mile in diameter, and the volcano’s base is twice as wide. Perhaps only because they know what it supposedly contains, the volcano seems almost alive, a dark, malevolent beast crouching low over the landscape around it.

As the Angels near the southwestern side of the volcano, following the directions provided by Vraria, they find it growing progressively darker, the pall of smoke cutting off the sunlight. While on the way, they catch sight of a silvery gleam near the base. As they approach, they see movement near it, and in the general area. Orienting themselves towards the gleam, with the low foothills and broken land around the base, they are able to approach all the way till nearly a quarter of a mile from the volcano.

Looking at the Lake of Fire from behind a low hillock, the Angels now see that the silvery light outlines a doorway, low on the volcano’s side. A tiger-headed humanoid sits beside the doorway on a rock. Moving restlessly around it are three more of the scaled, six-legged cats they had seen earlier in the day. As they watch, they see more movement in the area. Dozens of creatures are moving around the base of the volcano. There are a few more of the cats, as well as some of the large lizards they saw before, and more unusual beasts that they do not recognize. Off to the east, perhaps half a mile away from them, there are dozens of humanoid figures, perhaps members of the Carrion Tribes. Like the animals, they seem to be simply watching the volcano, not moving any closer to it. 

“Let me get a better view,” says Nameless, who has already been casting a spell as they approached. He completes it, and an _arcane eye_ pops into existence about twenty feet from the creature sitting near the door. It shows no signs of noticing the invisible sensor, nor do the three creatures nearby.

Looking through the sensor, Nameless can see that it appears to be a rakshasa, of the yellow-and-black furred variety. It is dressed in fairly ornate robes and does not wear any armor or obvious weapons other than a curved dagger at its belt. It does have many pouches at its belt, as a spellcaster might have, and a couple of wands hanging by its side. As far as Nameless can make out an expression on the feline face, it seems bored, turning once in a while to look at the door as if expecting or hoping for something to occur.

The three creatures nearby are the large scaled, six-legged cats they had seen (on the way back from Burning Keep) feeding on the carcasses of the lizards they had killed. The creatures move around aimlessly, but stay close to the rakshasa. At one point, it says something to one of the cats that is straying (unheard by Nameless, since the sensor only relays visual information) and the cat growls and returns, to plop down on a rock nearby. 

As Nameless moves the sensor around, he sees that the other creatures (some more cats, a few of the lizards, what look like a pair of large snakes with spines along their backs, and a small group of dog-like creatures that he thinks have scales like the cats but only four legs) are all staying in groups fairly well separated from each other, though they do all move from place to place. They all seem fixated on the mountain. The snakes and the dogs are close to the direct path between where the Angels are and the doorway. They could find a path that gives all the creatures a wide berth, but would have to take a fairly winding approach to do so, which would take twice or thrice as long to cover the ground.

When Nameless turns the sensor towards the doorway, he finds the area beyond somewhat hazy, like looking through a thin mist, which makes visibility difficult. Beyond the doorway is what looks like a stone chamber, evidently carved, since the floor is smooth. The silvery light emanates from what looks like silver fire (much like the kind often involved with Gareth) that flows in streams up and down the walls of the chamber. There seem to be no such streams on the floor and the ceiling is too high (the doorway is only six feet high and about five feet wide) to see. 

When Nameless tries to move the sensor through the doorway, it stops at the threshold as if encountering some barrier. He moves it around and checks around for chinks that it can squeeze through, with no success. When the sensor is right up against the doorway, however, he catches a glimpse of something he could not see through the haze from further away. At the limits of his vision, about fifty feet in, lies one end of what looks like a large snake. It must be at least ten feet long, since he can see a good seven-eight feet of it and not far enough to see the head. There is a pool of blood around it and something flat and brightly colored on the ground at the far end on either side, or at least he thinks so through the haze.

*End of email segments*

Nameless ends the spell and quickly explains what he saw. “I think that’s a couatl in there.”

“Couatl?” asks Six.

Gareth answers. “They are holy creatures. Relatives of the dragons. Some say that the Silver Flame was created when the couatls sacrificed themselves at the end of the Age of Demons to bind the rakshasa rajahs.”

“Want to bet that our two buddies killed it?” asks Korm rhetorically. “Nameless – any sign of them?”

“No.”

“That’s not good,” says Six. “How do we get to the door?”

“I can transport most of us,” says Nameless, “But we need to get closer. Then we can show up and surprise the heck out of that rakshasa.”

“What about all those other critters? I get the feeling they’ll be interfering, and some should reach that door pretty quick.”

“Maybe…,” begins Nameless, when Luna interrupts with a warning growl, seconds before Korm says, “Quiet! I just heard something.” 

The Angels turn quickly, just as a scarred and tattooed form looks over a nearby ridge at them. Behind it are a dozen more, all holding weapons.


----------



## Vorput

...Oh, stopping there is just plain mean.


----------



## Sidekick

JUSTICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now give me more updates or I'll stop sending my outsourcing your way!!!

That's a very good, and very mean place to leave people hanging on. You truly are a RBDM


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> ...Oh, stopping there is just plain mean.






			
				Sidekick said:
			
		

> JUSTICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Now give me more updates or I'll stop sending my outsourcing your way!!!
> 
> That's a very good, and very mean place to leave people hanging on. You truly are a RBDM




Come on - I can't just pick on my players only. I have to spread the love 

I'm wrapping up the big project I'm involved with this morning (which leaves me with the little matter of 180 papers to grade over the next few days), so I'm hoping to have another quick update up this evening or tomorrow morning.

We're also supposed to be playing tomorrow, so there's going to be material for regular updates for a bit now.


----------



## ajanders

That's not a cliffhanger. The bad guys have weapons.

Now if they had sticks, that would be a cliffhanger. Sticks are dangerous in Eberron.


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> That's not a cliffhanger. The bad guys have weapons.
> 
> Now if they had sticks, that would be a cliffhanger. Sticks are dangerous in Eberron.




I'm not that mean. The sticks have to have rocks on them for me to threaten 10th lvl PCs with them. Otherwise it would just be wrong.

And here's the next instalment. Enjoy.

************************************************************************

The figure nods. “So you are here. I had hoped so.” He gestures and he and the others clamber over the low ridge separating them from the Angels.

 “Morran! What are you doing here?” asks a pleased Korm.

“Yes,” says the Ghaash’kala warrior, his lips twitching in what probably passes for a broad smile. “I thought after you left that you might need aid. I told you I have thought about carrying our battle into the Wastes. Some others wanted to do so as well. And your cause was especially worthy. So here we are.” He says, just a little somberly. “My brother did not like the idea. But it is done now. We would have gone to the village, but saw the smoke a few hours ago and thought we should come this way. How can we help?”

After a quick explanation of what they believe is transpiring inside the volcano, the Angels decide that a few of the Ghaash’kala should approach from another direction, to hopefully draw the rakshasa away, allowing the rest to head quickly for the door. Morran agrees and sends four of the warriors to do so.

The plan doesn’t work out precisely as intended. Moments after the four warriors catch the rakshasa’s attention by firing arrows from a long distance, it casts a spell and takes flight. Flying forward, it sends a _fireball_ that explodes among the four warriors, who fall back under cover. 

The Angels and the rest are hurrying forward already. The rakshasa, distracted by its targets, does not see them immediately, but a number of the animals in the area do notice and move towards them. The Ghaash’kala promptly speed up to intercept the creatures. Noticing the movement, the rakshasa changes direction, another _fireball_ shooting out to explode among them. Having cast the spell, it flies back towards the doorway.

“Surprise, surprise!” mutters Nameless, as he casts a _dimension door_. To the rakshasa’s evident surprise, four figures appear between it and the doorway. It barely has a moment to growl before Korm, having grown a pair of wings, shoots forward at it. He throws his powerful arms around the rakshasa and simply stops flapping his wings. The weight overcomes the rakshasa’s _fly_ spell, and the pair plummets to the ground, Korm pivoting to land on top.

Before the groggy creature can rise, Six and Gareth are charging forward to slash into it. With a pained scream, the rakshasa makes a Herculean effort and staggers to its feet, only for Six’s chain, already enhanced by Gareth to affect rakshasas, to curl around its throat. The big warforged jerks back on the chain and there is an audible snap.

As the rakshasa falls, Nameless calls, “I could use a little help,” from where he is, with two of the six-legged cats menacing him, while the third is charging Gareth. Fifteen seconds later, two of the cats are dead and the third is fleeing as fast as it can.

“That was easy,” says Korm, pulling the spear given them by the Ghaash’kala from one of the corpses. “Too easy.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” says Nameless, moving towards the doorway. “If this is a _wall of force_, we’re screwed. I’m hoping it’s a dimensional gate of some kind.”

“Guys?” interrupts Six, looking down at his chest. “I’m glowing.”

Looking at him, the others can see the outline of the tattoo on his chest, or more precisely, where the tattoo had been. Though it has not reappeared, a softly glowing outline marks where it was. “Feels warm,” says Six.

“I feel it too,” says Gareth, checking to see that the same thing has happened with him. Nameless and Korm are experiencing the same. “I guess this means we’re near the Key,” says Nameless, a little uncertainly, “But does it mean it’s forming some sort of link to us again?”

“If that happens, Luna’s really not …,” begins Korm, but his words are interrupted, and corroborated, as an angry Luna, followed by the Ghaash’kala, reaches them. Still in bear form, she rears up, growls and points agitatedly to her chest, where a similar outline glows.

“Yes, Luna, we know,” says Gareth with a grin. “We’re trying to work out if there’s some link….”

Luna growls even more loudly and goes through a series of remarkably eloquent gestures, which seem to indicate something about the glow, the Key, the universe and certain bodily functions. 

Grinning, Nameless turns again to the door. “Now _this_ is interesting!” The others turn to see that a small symbol is now visible in the middle of the haze that makes up the doorway. It looks exactly like the image of the dragon that was on the Key, except that this one lacks the dragonshard it was depicted as holding.

“It wasn’t here earlier,” says Nameless. “Let me check.” He casts a _detect magic_ and concentrates. After a few seconds, he says, “Strong abjuration on the doorway. And that little image is strong divination.”

Morran, who has been waiting patiently with his men, now short one from the quick melee against the attacking beasts, asks, “Do you know what that is? Or how to get in?”

“Not really,” says Nameless with a grimace. “It could be…”

Again, he never gets to finish the sentence. With an impatient growl, Luna shoves past him. “No, Lun…,” begins the alienist, but Luna ignores him and slams her paw against the symbol. It passes right through, and through the haze beyond, with only the lightest of resistance. 

Shaking his head, Nameless says, “You know that’ll get you killed someday, right?” Luna ignores him and sticks her face through the doorway. She immediately finds that the haze is less than an inch thick. She also sees that the dead creature is a winged snake, as the others had described, and that it lies ten feet from the far end of the chamber (which is about sixty feet long, twenty feet high and roughly oval) and a tall doorway made of what looks like silver flame, matching the streams that appear on each wall from floor to ceiling. Luna also notes tiny sparks of silver flame in the pool of blood around the couatl, which seem to be winking out one by one.

The druid pulls her head back out, waves the others forward, and steps through. The rest follow. Morran, trying to do the same, is brought up short as he bumps painfully into an apparently solid barrier. Nameless experiments and sees that the barrier exists for Morran, but not the others. “Must be something to do with the Key and our old link to it,” he says. “But we could seriously use you and your people in here. Let me try something.”

Nameless _reduce_s Morran and then places the slightly surprised, but stoical, warrior inside a _bag of holding_. Carrying the _bag_ through, he opens it and extracts Morran. The now three foot tall Ghaash’kala steps out, opens his mouth, and collapses on his face. 

“Oh, damn! Is he alive?”

Nameless quickly checks. “Yes. I feel a pulse.” Looking at the worried-looking Ghaash’kala outside, he says, “Let’s get him outside.” The hazy barrier presents no problems when they try to move Morran through. A second after he is carried outside, Morran opens his eyes and sits up, looking confused. “What happened?”

Nameless explains and asks, “Do you want to try again? Maybe it is an effect that you can resist.”

The Ghaash’kala looks skeptical, and when one of his warriors points out something in the distance, he shakes his head. “I do not think that is an option. You are evidently chosen by Kalok Shash for this task. We will give you the time you need. Look!”

Where he points, Nameless sees at least a score of what must be Carrion Tribe barbarians heading towards them. Off at an angle, a small pack of the scaled dogs they had seen also lope closer. “More will come,” says Morran. “We will keep them from you. For how long, I do not know, so try to hurry.”

Nameless looks dissatisfied, and Gareth mutters, “Shouldn’t this Kalok Shash be a little more understanding?” The comment draws no response from Morran but gets a grunt of amusement from Korm. “If Kalok Shash is the Silver Flame, do you really need to ask?”

“Are you sure?” says Nameless. “That barrier should keep these things at bay too, and out here you will probably die.”

“Maybe. You do not have time to risk more attempts to get us in. And we cannot risk letting them follow you in. So we will hold them here.” This time, there is actually a slight smile, as he looks at Korm. “I told you. We live for the Flame. We die for the Flame. If you return and we are here, then we shall break meat together. If not, it was a good parting.”

Korm nods, understanding the fatalism of the Ghaash’kala better than his companions do. He salutes Morran silently with his blade, and heads back in, followed by the others. Behind them, the Ghaash’kala move away from the doorway, forming a loose semi-circle and waiting for the inevitable attack.

As the trio re-enters, Six, who has been watching them, says, “I’m pretty sure that creature is dead.” He points at the couatl, which Luna stands over. She growls her agreement and carefully touches it with her paw.

Instantly, there is a flash of silver light from the corpse and the blood around it, and the tiny silver sparks disappear. The light resolves itself into the spectral figure of a couatl, hanging in mid-air above the corpse. It gazes around and then speaks, in a sibilant and clearly feminine tone, “I am Dalassakash’alyntar, servant of the Flame that binds, the Light that will not die. You are come in the nick of time. You are here to stop the Lords of Dust, are you not?” 

“Yes,” says Gareth, kneeling instantly. “I am Gareth Byron Deneith, paladin of the Silver Flame. How may I serve?”

“I do not know what age this is, but there is no time for explanations. I was held here as a guardian, in case anyone ever broke the seals and attempted to awaken He … that is bound within. I was awakened a short time ago to face two rakshasas, but they slew me.”

“So you really are dead?” asks Six.

“Yes, I am dead,” continues the spirit, a trifle petulantly, “Held here for a time by the grace of the Flame in case help came. And so you have. You must stop them if you can.” She sounds uncertain as she adds, “They are very powerful.”

“Where are they?”

“Through the doorway, in the heart of the fire. You must follow and slay them.”

“They’re _inside_ the volcano?”

“Yes. You will need protection.”

Nameless says, “Can you help us in any way? We don’t have the resources we would have had if we’d had any time to prepare.” _And even if we did, I wouldn’t be sure we can take them._

“There is little I can do, since I am dead,” says the couatl. Then she pauses, and closes her eyes. When she reopens them and speaks, there is relief in her voice. “There is something the Flame will let me do. I will enter you all, if you allow me, and create a temporary conduit to the Flame. It will empower you to the limit of your normal capabilities and beyond, into the realm of potential you have not yet explored. It cannot last long, but hopefully long enough.” She adds, half to herself, “I shall be quickly consumed by the process, but that does not matter. After all, I am already dead.”

“I’m beginning to notice a trend here,” mutters Korm quietly, drawing an ursine guffaw from Luna and a glare from Gareth. 

The paladin turns back to the couatl and says, “Please do so.” 

Even as the others nod, Dalassakash’alyntar swoops forward. Her wings spread wide to encompass all of the Angels and her already transparent form fades away. As she disappears, the Angels all stagger back at the sudden rush of warmth, followed by a sensation of immense power, which envelops them.

The precise effects vary with the individual, the warriors feeling stronger and more dexterous, while the spellcasters have their faculties heightened, with all five of them feeling significantly more durable. Dweomers that they have only studied or heard about without ever being able to cast leap into existence in their minds, ready for release. Some spells leap instantly from memory to existence, instantly cloaking them in multiple magical defenses. A momentary feeling of reverence for the Silver Flame floats into their minds, and though it quickly dissipates, it leaves behind a certainty of being blessed and protected. And it all happens in a long near-orgasmic moment which leaves them breathless*.

The experience is slightly different for Nameless. As the couatl’s spirit soars into him, a terrific pain erupts within his head, accompanied by a mad gibbering in daelkyr. Evidently the ‘footprint’ left in his mind reacts badly to the influence of the Flame. But, as he concentrates, the pain quickly recedes, to be replaced by the fascination of holding in mind dweomers he has dreamt of casting for months.

Short-lived though it is, some of the others notice Nameless’ momentary pained response.

_“You okay, Nameless?” _ asks Luna, who has enlarged to become roughly the size of a small elephant.

_“Yes, I am…,”_ Nameless begins to respond, before realizing, as all the Angels do, that Luna cannot speak in bear form. And that she actually just growled a query, as she normally does, without expecting to really be understood.

_“You can hear…,”_ begins Luna, in fascination, when all of the Angels hear the couatl’s voice in their heads.

_“…your voice,”_ she completes Luna’s sentence. _“Yes. You are all linked through me, and as long as I remain and the conduit lasts, you can communicate instantly through your thoughts. Even though I am…”_

“…dead,” completes Nameless, aloud this time. “We know. Shouldn’t we go now?”

_“Yes,”_ is the response, again sounding (thinking?) slightly petulant. Immediately, without even having made a physical move, the Angels feel themselves shot forward towards the doorway. As they reach it, there is a flash of light and they are … somewhere else.

The Angels find themselves standing near one end of a rough stone area. A wall of flaming lava surrounds them on every side, even hanging in the air to form a ceiling thirty feet above their heads, as if they stood in a bubble within the heart of the volcano. The heat is incredible, and if it were not for their magical protection, they would be gasping for breath and slowly dying. 

The stone they stand on is pitch black. Behind them, it stretches into four rough rectangles of varying lengths, and another, slightly thicker one stretches off at an angle to their left, each marked by the wall of lava around it. Something they notice instantly is that the lava around them is shot through with thin silver and black lines, which curl around each other.

What draws their attention, of course, is the pair of figures present here with them, both in their natural forms. About forty feet ahead, the roughly rectangular floor becomes narrower before stretching into another rectangle. Where this narrowing occurs stands the rakshasa swordswoman Nethatar, jagged blade drawn, facing towards the Angels. About fifteen feet behind her, ten feet from the wall of lava immediately in front of him, is the white-haired ak’chazar, Zathara, facing away with both hands raised and chanting slowly aloud. 

Unlike Nethatar, who is dressed as before in the heavy armor she fancies, Zathara wears a strange harness, which looks like it is made of some thick, dried gray hide. In the center, four metal, clawed hands are attached to it, which hold the Key between them. An amber beam emerges through Zathara’s back and hits Nethatar’s chest, and a cone of similarly colored light emerges from the Key to meet the wall of lava ahead of them. Where the cone shines on the lava, it is slowly receding, leaving grayish-green stone behind. As the lava retreats, the silver lines fade away, and the black lines physically drop to the stone, coating it and turning it black.

_“Almost like skin,” _ thinks Six, a second before Nameless realizes the shape they stand upon. 

_“It looks roughly like a huge…”_

_“Yes,”_ says the couatl’s voice. _“You stand upon His hand.”_

And then there is no more time, as Zathara ceases his chant, noticing  the intruders.

“HASTUR! HASTUR! HASTU…”


* Mechanically, all PCs hit 11th level, with full hit pts and all spells prepared. They also all got a +2 luck bonus to attack, damage, saves, skills, ability checks and caster lvl checks to penetrate SR. Each player also got to choose what 3 stats were most important to their PC and got a +4 enchancement bonus to each stat. They were also benefiting from a telepathic link with each other and fire resistance 30. The spellcasters got to pick 4 spells each to be instantly cast. Amusingly, most of the players went, “Wow!” when they found everything that they got. And Luna’s player went, “Wait – what the hell are we going to fight that we’ll need all of this?” For some reason nobody trusts Shil bearing gifts


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> Amusingly, most of the players went, “Wow!” when they found everything that they got. And Luna’s player went, “Wait – what the hell are we going to fight that we’ll need all of this?” For some reason nobody trusts Shil bearing gifts




It was more like, "Wow [thought balloon] If he's giving us all this, the $#$% has to be really deep in there.[/thought balloon] Only Luna's player felt it necessary to actually say it out loud, but that's just Luna for you. Feel grateful you're spared the emails detailing her plans for reproduction...


----------



## Solarious

shilsen said:
			
		

> For some reason nobody trusts Shil bearing gifts



Let's put it this way: your players do trust a Shilsen bearing gifts, they just trust you're going to start pouring the antartic water over their heads at any given moment in the future.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Let's put it this way: your players do trust a Shilsen bearing gifts, they just trust you're going to start pouring the antartic water over their heads at any given moment in the future.



 Funny you should say that. It's not always me. 

The PCs got a lot of gifts between the previous weekend's session and yesterday's. And, to extend your metaphor, then went and found a bucket of water and tried to drown themselves. 

Less metaphorically, we had the single most embarrassing battle the PCs have ever had.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> Funny you should say that. It's not always me.
> 
> The PCs got a lot of gifts between the previous weekend's session and yesterday's. And, to extend your metaphor, then went and found a bucket of water and tried to drown themselves.
> 
> Less metaphorically, we had the single most embarrassing battle the PCs have ever had.




Yeah, we were stupid. We believed you when you said.



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> To that end, is everybody on board with Nameless' suggestion to kick Daask around for old timessake? I could set up something with a small Daask outpost, full of poor unfortunate NPCs.




I thought that after a number of very difficult fights against extremely tough foes, we might actually get to have a chance to have fun and just kick ass for once. Stupid me.

I though that we might have a chance to fight something that wasn't going to be a life or death struggle and that we could "Show off" with. What a fool.

Now I know that Shil's idea of a "Small Daask outpost, full of unfortunate NPCs." Is a cr12 encounter, where they are loaded down with disposable one shot magic items like human bane arrows and beads of force. I'm clearly just a gullible moron.

In other words, I was an idiot and thought we'd get to just have fun for once. I neglected the basic lesson that in Shil's campaign that if you encounter a small white rabit, it's always going to be a vorpal bunny.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir, as you can see from the post above, takes disappointment badly.

And now, a short but, I think, meaningful update.


****************************************************************************************
Zathara glares at the intruders and snarls, “I did warn you. Nethatar – kill them.” 

His paw moves in a quick gesture and he throws up a protective _shield_, before casting a second, much more powerful spell. A longsword, apparently made entirely of gleaming black energy, appears next to Nameless and slashes at him. The alienist ducks away, recognizing that the _sword of darkness_ will sap his life energy, and more importantly, the spells he knows. 

Like the ak’chazar, Nameless casts a spell with a word and gesture, the _assay resistance_ from Saala, following it with a _dispel magic_. Though he knows the rakshasa has a _ring of counterspells _ too, Nameless counts on the fact that multiple castings of the spell will get through. “Korm, Luna,” he half shouts and half telepathically commands, “More _dispel_s!”

Meanwhile, Nethatar is striding forward, sword at the ready. She addresses Korm, “Twice, I have cut you down and you’re still here? This will be the last.” 

“That’s a pretty good threat from a future rug,” says Korm, but he focuses on Zathara, complying with Nameless’ suggestion. With Six, Gareth and Luna already charging the rakshasa, he figures she will soon be busy enough.

Luna’s huge bulk is first, but her claws simply scrape uselessly off the armor and magic protections on Nethatar. Six, saving his specifically enchanted chain for when he tries to actually cause damage, flicks another one around her ankle. And is then quickly forced to drop it as she pulls back powerfully on it.

Gareth, the last to reach Nethatar, and shudders inwardly at the taint of evil that he instinctively recognizes from her. _Blackguard!_ Then he staggers, as a powerful blow almost caves in the side of his armor. To his surprise, Zathara shouts, “Nethatar – don’t harm him! Kill the others.”

“What?” The thought leaps into Gareth’s mind from the others he is connected to, but there is no time for wondering. He raises the spear that he has specifically enchanted for this moment, calls to the Silver Flame, and strikes. As it comes down, he feels the couatl in his mind channeling the power of the Flame into him, and the paladin feels more truly part of the Flame than he ever has. The spear kindles with argent flames and he plunges it through Nethatar’s armor deep into her chest. She screams in agony, and Gareth sets his feet and pushes more deeply on the weapon*. “Die – damn you!”

The rakshasa stays on her feet, though critically wounded. Her pain and rage overrides her master’s anger, and she slashes again and again at Gareth. Seconds later, he is down and dying in a pool of blood, while Nethatar turns to hack at Luna. As she does so, blood streams from the wound Gareth left. “Master! Heal me!”

Zathara scowls as Gareth drops and then smiles, as he shrugs off a green ray of _disintegrate_ from Nameless. He casts a spell that both wounds and strips away magical protections from Korm and then glides forward. Luna slashes at him with a huge paw but it might as well have been aimed at the mountain wall. Zathara reaches out with his paw, to cast a quick healing spell.

And that’s when the Angels get lucky. In the middle of the wild melee, Nethatar has had no chance to lower her innate magical resistance. And at this crucial moment, Zathara fails to overcome it, and the spell that would have significantly healed Nethatar fizzles out. 

Even more importantly, moving forward has placed Zathara and Nethatar between Luna and one of the lava walls. Nameless, just having cast a spell to summon a huge crocodile, which bites into Nethatar’s leg, grimaces in pain as Zathara’s _sword of darkness_ strikes him twice. He ignores the resultant weakness and the draining feeling of his two remaining dweomers of the sixth valence fade, and yells, “Luna! The wall! Rush them now!”

Luna’s eyes light up with feral glee and she hurls her _enlarge_d bulk at them, ignoring the pain of another slash from Nethatar’s blade. 14,000 lbs of bear slams into the two rakshasas, and with a startled cry, both of them are hurled backwards into the lava.

As the liquid flame envelops the pair, their enemies can see that it is surprisingly transparent. The rakshasas are also evidently heavily protected against fire, but few protections can resist direct immersion in lava, and their skin and fur sears. The already badly wounded Nethatar seems especially badly hurt, screaming and convulsing in agony. Zathara, though also hurt, seems less hurt and quickly _dimension door_s across the chamber, appearing near where the Angels appeared. 

Nethatar too, emerges from the lava, but not as neatly or happily. As she thrashes in the embrace of the lava, Six’s chain, specifically enchanted by Gareth with holy power, lashes out. It wraps around Nethatar’s throat, and Six jerks powerfully, almost falling flat on his back with the effort. The rakshasa’s eyes bulge with the pressure, pain and shock clear in the catlike orbs, and then she is jerked forward and out of the lava, landing wetly on the stone, clearly dead.

As her corpse hits the ground, the amber beam (which still links her to Zathara, just as the cone of amber from the Key still shines on the far wall, where the lava continues to slowly recede) flexes, just as Six’s chain had, barely a second ago. To the surprise of everyone, including Zathara, the corpse flies through the air and into the lava wall the amber cone shines on. The beam linking her to Zathara disappears, and the cone grows slightly dimmer.

There is a brighter flash of amber light around the corpse and it immediately begins to sink deeper into the lava. Simultaneously, the body begins to fall apart, even faster than would be natural. While her armor and sword, which had remained attached to the gauntlet on her hand, remain untouched, the flesh and bone falls away, not searing but rather breaking up into tiny flakes that wash away like ashes on a high wind.

_“What the – ?”_ is the thought in every mind.

Zathara cries out, “No! Nethatar!!” And then, with an angry snarl, he turns toward the unconscious Gareth. “Now!”

Instantly, silver flames erupt along the sheathed blade of Kizmet on the paladin’s back. Healing energy pours into Gareth and he opens his eyes. 

“You!” snaps Zathara. “Join me! It is your destiny!”

_”What?”_

A cold, metallic voice speaks in Gareth’s mind. Over the telepathic link, the others can only hear a soft murmur, but the paladin hears and knows that Kizmet is speaking. “Yes – join him! You know your companions,” says the sword, its tone dripping with scorn on the last word, “Are not worthy of the Key. They will betray you for it. Join Zathara and you will become all you deserve to be.” 

Certain that it is a trick of the rakshasa’s, Gareth tries to fool it and buy some time. “Very well, I…” he begins mentally, but is instantly interrupted. “Fool. I am in your mind. You cannot lie to me.” Gareth feels Kizmet quiver slightly and a mild pressure around his head, but it disappears instantly and the voice resumes. “You owe much to me. And Zathara. Join us.” The voice grows grimmer. “I will not warn you again. Will you join us?” 

Gareth’s answer this time is both audible, and unequivocal. He stares the rakshasa in the eyes and rises to his feet. “. You.”

“Very well,” says Zathara, paws already moving in the gestures of a spell. “Come forth.”

Gareth’s vision blurs instantly, and it is replaced by a moment from the past. The other Angels also see it, linked as they are to him mentally. It is a battlefield, strewn only with the bodies of the fallen, except for a single stalwart figure in shining mail. The paladin recognizes it instantly. It is the Battle of Grace. 

The figure he looks at is Marshal Byron d’Deneith, standing with Kizmet in hand. Gareth himself lies at his father’s feet, eyes closed, a deep cut across his forehead. Byron raises Kizmet and a bright silver glow shines out over the field. The viewpoint which Gareth, in the present, is watching through suddenly shoots forward into the light. An instant later, it changes, to a strangely angled and narrow field, which he quickly realizes is as if one were looking through the blade of the sword. 

Kizmet falls to the ground beside Gareth as his father drops to his knees and lays his hands on Gareth. Byron’s lips move in prayer and a silvery glow shines from his hands. Already deathly pale, he grows paler still, while the blood flowing from Gareth’s head slows and fades. Byron sighs in relief and then slowly collapses over him. 

A voice begins to speak, the same voice that Gareth now knows as Kizmet’s. “Your father sacrificed his life for you. He asked the Flame to pass on his gifts as a paladin to you. You saw Tira Miron appear to you in a vision.” The voice chuckles. “Didn’t you?” And the vision fades, the entire thing having taken barely a second. 

And, with a deafening crack, Kizmet explodes. The hilt, with only a six inch jagged shard of the blade still attached, clatters to the ground. 

Simultaneously, a figure appears adjacent to Gareth. It is a fifteen foot tall monstrosity, four arms attached to its heavily muscled body, two ending in clawed hands and two in pincers. Its head is roughly canine in shape and horned, and the large muzzle bears sharp dripping fangs. The cold eyes have a dark humor in them. To the others, it is clearly a demon. To Gareth, it is the one his father banished at the Battle of Grace.

“Greetings, idiot,” it says to Gareth, and then turns to Zathara. “And master!”

_“!” _ think Nameless and Korm simultaneously, recognizing the creature, though neither has encountered one himself. _“Glabrezu!_

Gareth, who also recognizes it, has a bigger concern, and as the horrified realization flames in his mind, all of his companions realize it too. As the glabrezu emerges from within Kizmet, where it has lain in wait since the Battle of Grace, Gareth loses every paladin ability that he possesses.

Or, more precisely, every paladin ability that the fiend in his sword had granted him.**


* Gareth did two Smites with Divine Might, hit on both, and criticalled on the first. 123 pts of damage in one round.

** I really wish I had a snap of the various facial expressions when I pulled this off. I’m quite impressed that nobody, especially Gareth’s player, threw dice at me.


----------



## Sidekick

WOW.

Nice one. I also wish you'd got that kodak moment on record. I mush atmid that I'd suspected that his sword was a fiend or fiend inhabited. But that it was also what powerd his Paladin'ness. THATS a super mean RBDM moment. 

I must file that one away for future use.


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:
			
		

> Or, more precisely, every paladin ability that the fiend in his sword had granted him.**




...Bu.... I.... No... O... Oh....

Shilsen, you're just plain mean!

Vorp


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> WOW.








> Nice one. I also wish you'd got that kodak moment on record. I mush atmid that I'd suspected that his sword was a fiend or fiend inhabited. But that it was also what powerd his Paladin'ness. THATS a super mean RBDM moment.




Thankee kindly. I'd been waiting 2 years and 45 sessions for that moment, and it was worth it.

The entire thing began when AviLazar gave me Gareth's background, where he mentioned the following:



> During a particular battle in northern Cyre, Marshal Byron and his soldiers were attacked by a superior force. By the time rescuers reached the scene of battle, they found all the combatants dead except for Gareth, who lay in a swoon next to the marshal's body, clutching his father's greatsword.
> 
> When revived, Gareth related a strange tale. He claimed that during the battle the other warriors fell until only Byron and Gareth were left facing a number of enemies. One of their foes summoned a demonic creature, which attacked Gareth and struck him a grievous blow. At this moment, Byron raised his greatsword Kizmet into the sky, expending his life in a last effort to slay his opponents. A shimmering light appeared and expanded over the course of several seconds, slaying those around him. The demon was banished back to its realm and the rest fell where they stood. Marshal Byron fell to the ground, barely awake from his wounds and realized that his son, while alive, was about to die. Expending the last of his grace, Marshal Byron prayed to the Silver Flame to pass his life into his son. Tira Miron appeared before Marshal Byron and the near-unconscious Gareth, smiled and laid a hand upon him and his son, the life ebbing from one and going to the other. As Byron was about to pass, he kissed his son's head, and passed to him Kizmet - now dormant. Tira Miron smiled at Gareth and laid her blessing on him, elevating him to paladinhood, and disappeared, even as he fell unconscious. Most of those whom he told this story to thought Gareth was either an outright liar or simply imagining things after having been wounded in the battle. His mother and grandmother, however, believed him, and there was no denying that he had gained the abilities of a paladin of the Silver Flame.




My initial reaction was to nix the whole bit with Tira Miron appearing, since that didn't fit the "nebulous contact with deities" aspect of Eberron I like. But instead I just told Avi, "You know that Gareth might have imagined that. After all, nobody gets to actually be visited by Tira Miron, and paladins can't normally pass their powers on to another. Maybe he just got hit in the head, and memory is complicated." 

His response was, "That's okay. Gareth's going to believe that's what he saw. As long as he's got a paladin's powers, people can't really tell him that wasn't the truth, can they?"

And then a little bulb went off in my head and I went back to my place and cackled to myself for a bit 

I was dropping little hints consistently, as you and the players/PCs picked up, about the sword having some connection to a fiend, and also about something trying to corrupt Gareth via the dreams (couldn't directly control him, because of his Exorcist abilities), but nobody saw the paladinhood angle coming, because they had no reason to. Maybe they would have, if more time had passed, but the PCs finding the Key (which Zathara had *not* planned on, since even he didn't know it was on the island) and planning to take it to the Gatekeepers made Zathara show his hand much sooner than he had planned. 



> I must file that one away for future use.




My earnest sympathies to whoever you use that on. Really


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> ...Bu.... I.... No... O... Oh....
> 
> Shilsen, you're just plain mean!
> 
> Vorp




Guilty as charged. But that's why you come here, doncha?

The meanest line I have ever got to say as a DM was right after I mentioned Kizmet shattering, the glabrezu appearing, and Gareth's paladin powers disappearing.

AviLazar: Wait - so Gareth's no longer a paladin?

Me: No. Gareth never *was* a paladin.

Everybody: What?

Rackhir: Hah! That explains everything!

Now I just have to work out how to top this little piece of work. It'll take some doing, and probably another two years.


----------



## Solarious

It does explain everything. And you have to admit: this was given to Shil on a silver platter. You don't hand anything to RBDMs on a silver platter, heart of gold or not. But at least he keeps his Excorcist abilities. Good thing Gareth picked up those Cleric levels, isn't it? 

On the ass-kicking delivered by the Daask, you do remember your encounter who runs that cartel, right? And who has a vested interest in you? And knows what and where you're going to do ahead of time to leave gifts for you? You should have expected that those bunnies to be slytooths anyways.

Last note: what's going on with the Key and the Rakshasas? I know its going to be a nasty surprise, I'm just not sure for who.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> It does explain everything. And you have to admit: this was given to Shil on a silver platter. You don't hand anything to RBDMs on a silver platter, heart of gold or not. But at least he keeps his Excorcist abilities. Good thing Gareth picked up those Cleric levels, isn't it?




Yes, it is  

Actually, as you'll see after the next update, I'm being nice about what he gets to keep and throwing in a little extra. Heart of gold, see? Plus you have to keep the players happy enough to keep coming back, so you can torture their PCs further. It's like my theory on PC death. If you permanently kill a PC, that means its suffering is over. 



> On the ass-kicking delivered by the Daask, you do remember your encounter who runs that cartel, right? And who has a vested interest in you? And knows what and where you're going to do ahead of time to leave gifts for you? You should have expected that those bunnies to be slytooths anyways.




The answer to that one is an unequivocal "No." I don't think any of the players thought of or remembered that little angle, or paid much attention to a couple of little things I mentioned before the attack. You'll see. And you actually predicted something the players/PCs are going to find out in the very near future - Sora Teraza's been expecting them back.

Nicely done, Solarious.



> Last note: what's going on with the Key and the Rakshasas? I know its going to be a nasty surprise, I'm just not sure for who.




That'll be covered in the next update, which will wrap up the fight. I should have it up in a couple of days.


----------



## Rackhir

Solarious said:
			
		

> On the ass-kicking delivered by the Daask, you do remember your encounter who runs that cartel, right? And who has a vested interest in you? And knows what and where you're going to do ahead of time to leave gifts for you? You should have expected that those bunnies to be slytooths anyways.




To paraphrase "Cool Hand Luke", what we had here was a failure to communicate. 

My impression and that of at least a couple of the other players was that it wasn't supposed to be a "serious" battle. We assumed (and you know what they say about assuming) that it was just a chance to kick ass and show off. In other words, that we were going to be facing forces so far below us on the CR charts that we couldn't be getting any xp (Even if that was how Shilsen awarded XP).

So we went in there cocky and unprepaired. In large part because *we thought that was the whole point of the battle*. That it was a chance to revel in being high level bad asses, fighting foes who were vastly beneath us.

Thus I deliberately chose to do a number of things I knew were suboptimal, like empowering a disintegrate on a enemy who probably couldn't have taken the base damage and summoned a single SMVI gargantuan centipede, rather than d3 SMV or d4+1 SMIV creatures which is the more combat effective move. Because I thought we were just having fun.

Shil had a rather different idea of what things were supposed to be as you'll see sometime in the not too distant future.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> To paraphrase "Cool Hand Luke", what we had here was a failure to communicate.




Agreed. I think it was more an issue of degree, however. 



> My impression and that of at least a couple of the other players was that it wasn't supposed to be a "serious" battle. We assumed (and you know what they say about assuming) that it was just a chance to kick ass and show off. In other words, that we were going to be facing forces so far below us on the CR charts that we couldn't be getting any xp (Even if that was how Shilsen awarded XP).
> 
> So we went in there cocky and unprepaired. In large part because *we thought that was the whole point of the battle*. That it was a chance to revel in being high level bad asses, fighting foes who were vastly beneath us.




Actually, considering that the PCs are 12th lvl in all but name, the majority of the enemies were actually low level enough that the PCs would get no XP. You guys did meet enemies who were vastly beneath you, but just gave them every opportunity to mess you up. So they did. For me, significantly weaker foes are those one can defeat with the modicum of effort. But one does need at least that modicum of effort. The enemies one can defeat without even that are the ones for whom I won't bother to roll dice, and the PCs have had a couple like that recently. 

And, as we've established often enough in the game, CR really doesn't mean that much. Of the top of my head, with pure MM and PHB stuff, I can throw together a CR4 enemy in 2 minutes who can hit a 30+ AC and crank out 20+ damage per hit.

Six's player, who was the one who was skeptical of the entire attack, said something along the lines of "You know when Shil picks up the dice, you need to bring your A game." I wouldn't go that far, but one's D game won't do it, and short of letting people hit them without any retaliation, I don't think the PCs could have intentionally done worse. It was ... fascinating.



> Thus I deliberately chose to do a number of things I knew were suboptimal, like empowering a disintegrate on a enemy who probably couldn't have taken the base damage and summoned a single SMVI gargantuan centipede, rather than d3 SMV or d4+1 SMIV creatures which is the more combat effective move. Because I thought we were just having fun.




I was 

And I think the other players did enjoy the sheer humor of the embarrassment as things got progressively worse. At the end of the day, for me at least, it's a game. I've always figured that, as long as it's not affecting one's ability to keep participating in a particular campaign, getting upset about what happens to one's PC is a lot like getting mad because someone beat up your imaginary friend.



> Shil had a rather different idea of what things were supposed to be as you'll see sometime in the not too distant future.




Yes, we will. One more update should wrap up the rakshasa fight, and probably two more will get us to Daask.


----------



## shilsen

And here, as promised, is the conclusion to the rakshasa arc and the issue of the Key:

*************************************************************************
As the demon appears, Zathara smiles and says, “Good – I need more energy here.” Instantly, an amber beam shoots from the Key to the glabrezu’s chest. As it hits, the demon smiles and says, “Certainly.” 

And then suddenly looks worried. The beam whiplashes suddenly, just as the one connected to Nethatar had done as she died, and the glabrezu is hurled suddenly through the air as if its huge bulk had no weight at all. It grunts in surprise, and then its body impacts the wall that Nethatar’s corpse had sunk into. The demon screams in agony, as its form begins to flake away incredibly fast, just as the dead rakshasa’s had. It thrashes around, but continues to sink deeper into the lava. 

In barely three seconds, the surprised watchers see the surface of its body ripped away, leaving bloody muscle, organs and bone, which continues to dissolve. Yet, somehow, the demon is still alive. Desperately, it attempts to concentrate and _teleport_ out of the lava, but the intense damage being inflicted overcomes even its unearthly vitality and the attempt fails. With one despairing scream that trails off as what remains of its throat flakes away, it falls into nothingness. Unlike Nethatar, whose equipment floats away slowly through the lava, there is nothing to indicate the passing of the glabrezu.

_“What the hell just happened?”_ asks Luna mentally.

A voice in the collective heads of the Angels begins to reply, _“I cannot be completely sure, and since I am dead…”_

A collective mental groan replies, as does the snapped command from Nameless, _“Screw it! Just get him!”_ As one, the Angels hurl themselves at the stunned Zathara.

The rakshasa has been watching with shock written clearly across its white-furred countenance, as the demon dies, and the amber beam to it fades and dies. The cone of light pulses brightly for a moment and then fades slightly. Zathara looks down and places a paw uncertainly on the Key, and then raises its head to glare at the attackers.

As another _dispel_ from Korm strips off more of his protections, an onrushing Luna rakes his chest and tries to catch him in a non-metaphoric bear hug. Unfortunately, Zathara’s natural resistances render the damage negligible, and he is still protected by a _freedom of movement_. 

Zathara snarls his rage and confusion at what just transpired and steps out of her grasp, before casting another spell. His paw is ringed with life-sapping sable flames as he slams it down on Luna’s head. Already wounded, the druid cannot resist, and she feels a cold draining sensation, like an icy fist surrounding her heart. The fist contracts and squeezes. Luna’s heart throbs once, then more weakly again, and then stops. And she drops dead to the floor at Zathara’s feet*, as he rises into the air.

Unseen to the others, Luna’s soul begins to spiral up and away, seeking its way to Dolurrh. Then, it pauses for a second to gaze back at the darkness of the body it once inhabited. There is something occurring within the darkness. A tiny silvery light gleams. For the moment, the Angels are all connected to the Silver Flame, and though it cannot fully keep them from death, it can hold a spirit in a ravaged body for a second longer than it should remain.

Luckily for Luna, that second is just long enough. Gareth, rushing in behind her, may no longer be a paladin, but he is still a cleric and an Exorcist of the Silver Flame. Momentarily forgetting his own sorrow and confusion, he places a hand on her corpse, hoping that she is still alive, and casts the most powerful healing spell that he can. 

With a combination of a groan and a growl, Luna painfully opens her eyes and begins to rise. “Yes!” says Nameless, “Keep pounding him!” 

“Planning to,” says Six, whose own charge had been interrupted by Luna’s elephantine bulk dropping in front of him, as he jockeys for position with a huge crocodile that Nameless had summoned earlier to attack Nethatar. 

To Six’s momentary surprise, Zathara flies directly towards him, and though the rakshasa is fifteen feet in the air, the warforged knows he is still in range of the spiked chain. Then he realizes that Zathara’s attention is on the wall that the amber cone still shines on.

Zathara cries out, “Master – I give this to you,” and then reaches up to the harness. With a mighty effort, he rips it off his chest, actually removing the hair and flesh immediately below it, which the ‘leather’ was evidently attached to. With a loud cry, he hurls the Key into the wall. It sinks in and quickly begins to float deeper. As with Nethatar and the glabrezu, the leather instantly flakes away into nothingness, leaving only the four metal arms holding the Key.

_“NO!”_ shrieks Dalassakash’alyntar’s serpentine voice in everyone’s head. _“You must get it back now. NOW!_ Though the Angels do not know exactly what is happening, they can see an evident effect. An amber nimbus is beginning to extend around the Key.

_“I can_ dimension door_ in there,”_ transmits Nameless, _“But anything made of flesh seems to be destroyed very quickly.”_ Then his gaze switches, as does everyone else’s, to Six.

The warforged, a walking statue of wood and metal, sighs mentally. _“I’m ahead of you.” _ He breaks into a run, even as Nameless _haste_s him and the rest. Six’s metal feet ring rhythmically on the floor as he races towards the wall of lava. As he nears the edge, Six flicks his chain sideways to bury the spikes in the perpendicular edge to the side, and then dives forward. His momentum carries him deep into the lava and his desperately flailing hand closes around the Key.

Six pulls the Key toward himself and jerks back on the chain, hauling himself back towards the stone. To his momentary relief, not only is the lava here not as hot as it could be, allowing his magical protection to absorb most of its damage, but it does not seem to have the detrimental effect on his metal and wood body. 

Mostly metal and wood, he realizes belatedly, as various agonized parts of his body remind him. Thick fibrous bundles connect Six’s torso to the rest of his body, and are also present in arms and legs, and these are slowly flaking away, though luckily much more slowly than happened to the rakshasa and demon flesh moments ago. With no teeth to grit, Six clamps his metal jaws against the pain and draws himself backwards to safety, inch by inch.

“You cannot stop it now!” snarls Zathara, preparing to cast a spell to ensure that he is right, but he is distracted as Nameless’ crocodile rears up to snap at him and Luna rushes back to strike at him. While their attacks bounce off him, the charge of Korm, borne on his hawk-like wings, is more effective, as he drives the Ghaash’kala-gifted spear into Zathara’s back. 

The rakshasa screams at the pain and speaks a word, sending a powerful arc of electricity shooting up the spear and into Korm, knocking him backwards. As the orc staggers, Zathara hurls an _orb of flame_ into his chest. Though his magical protections block the bulk of the damage, it is still enough to momentarily stun Korm. His wings slow and he begins to fall, when two mailed hands reach up to grab his feet.

“Damn!” grunts Gareth, bending under the strain, “And you say Luna is fat!” The moment is all Korm needs, and with a muttered “Thanks!” he flaps into the air again.

The distraction allows Six, his fibrous parts pitted and smoking, to stagger back onto the stone lip of the giant arm they are on. As he emerges from the lava, another amber beam shoots from the Key, this one to strike him in the chest. Instantly, he is aware of Zathara’s mind, not its actual thoughts but its general tenor, the Key connecting the two. In the back of Six’s mind, the couatl shouts, _Now! You can drain his energy! Do it!_

Uncertain what to do, Six nevertheless tries, willing the Key to do as the couatl says. For a moment, the beam connected to him shrinks and the one linking the Key to Zathara thickens and pulses, as if something were flowing from him to the Key. 

Then, across the conduit, Six feels the ak’chazar’s will, and the accompanying rage and hate, as it fights back mentally. Try as he might, Six’s will is no match for the millennia-old creature**, and he falls to a knee, feeling as if the inside of his mind were about to emerge through his metallic skull.

If it were a simple contest of wills, Six would be dead in seconds, but Zathara has some other distractions. Korm and Luna hammer away at him, not doing much damage, but keeping him too occupied to focus purely on Six. Gareth, unable to reach the flying rakshasa, continually pours healing energy into Luna, keeping her on her feet when she might otherwise have fallen.

In desperation, Zathara unleashes a burst of fire from his body that would normally have incinerated any of his opponents***. But with their myriad protections, Luna and Korm remain on their feet, though each is horribly burned, with only the _summon_ed crocodile being blasted away. Gareth would have been too, but the giant bulk of Luna shields him from the flames.

Meanwhile, Nameless _dimension door_s across the chamber and appears next to Six, reaching out to the Key. As he touches it, another beam leaps out to his chest, and he has exactly the same feeling as his ally. Warforged and alienist oppose their combined wills against the rakshasa. Though even their combined wills cannot overcome his, for a moment they hold him at bay, Nameless’ aid preventing the ak’chazar from utterly crushing Six’s mind.

Zathara roars in frustration and then casts his most powerful remaining spell. His wounds _heal_, the majority of them closing. And then, incredibly quickly, he casts a _lightning bolt_ at Korm. 

The big orc’s eyes go wide, as he realizes that he has no chance to dodge, and that he is far too badly wounded to survive it. And then, even as the electricity leaps off Zathara’s extended paw, another paw, bigger than the rakshasa’s entire head, interposes itself.

The _lightning bolt_ strikes Luna’s paw and is deflected into her body. Even with Gareth’s ministrations, she should have no chance of survival. But, coincidentally, she is the only one of the Angels to have cast a _protection from energy_ against electricity before the fight. Every hair on her body stands on end, but not one of them is even singed.

Zathara snarls, “No matter! You cannot hold me at bay forever,” and blasts Nameless and Six with his will. The two of them manage to resist the attack momentarily, but can feel it slowly bending their minds backwards, like a giant fist slowly increasing its pressure.

But, again, the effort means Zathara has to switch his attention from his immediate foes. Korm, who has not done so all this time, so that he could use his own magic, finally gives in to his berserker fury. Yelling a wordless battle-cry, he drives the spear forward with all his might, augmented by fury now along with that granted by the Flame. Forged for exactly such a moment in the depths of the Labyrinth, the holy spear strikes home, ripping and burning through the ak’chazar’s chest to actually emerge a hand-span from its back.

Zathara screams in agony and thrashes around, allowing Luna to rear up and slam both claws into his skull.

None of the blows kill it, but more importantly, Six and Nameless feel its concentration slip and they push back. There is a long moment of growing, almost intolerable pressure, and then suddenly, it is gone. 

The amber beams that connect Six and Nameless to the Key disappear instantly, while the one linked to Zathara quintuples in size, and the cone of light disappears. The Key tears itself out of the hands of the warforged and the alienist, and shoots into the lava wall behind them. With a despairing cry, drawn at equal speed behind it, flies Zathara, clawing vainly at the air around him.

Both Key and rakshasa sink into the lava and float quickly into it, spiraling in a circle. As they fade away, streams of amber light shoot out. Wherever they touch, the black lines that spiral through the lava burn away, leaving behind only the streams of silver flame, which begin to glow with increased intensity. As the light increases, it hides the Key and rakshasa from view, the last sight of them being Zathara’s mouth opening in a silent, despairing scream. In their minds, the Angels hear an almost audible ‘click,’ as the Key finally does one of the two things that it was made for. It locks shut the door that Zathara had striven to open.

For a moment, the Angels stand there staring at the lava wall where the Key and the rakshasa, both of which have plagued them so much, have disappeared, unsure that it is all over.

Then, the voice of Dalassakash’alyntar says, relief strong within it, speaks in their minds. _ “Congratulations! You have done it!”_ Then, she adds, _“I think you should be leaving.”_

The Angels turn to see the doorway of silver flame hanging behind them, and realize that the walls and ceiling of the chamber are beginning to pulse, with streams of lava falling from them. 

Without a word, they turn and race for the doorway. Only Gareth pauses, to snatch up the hilt of Kizmet, and then he too dives through the doorway, only a second before the chamber disappears beneath the lava of the Lake of Fire.

A second later, the group reappears in the chamber with the couatl’s corpse. As they appear, the entire room shakes violently, and a loud rumbling fills the air. “I think it’s really erupting now! Run!”

“Don’t leave the couatl!” says Gareth, as the others head for the door.

“It’s dead!” snaps Korm, on the way out. “And too big.”

“But…,” begins Gareth, trying to drag the creature behind him and only doing so slowly. With a disgusted growl, Luna turns back, flips the corpse up with a giant paw, and hustles out.

Emerging in a rush, the Angels see that an eruption is definitely under way. Even thicker clouds of smoke stream from the crater far above, this time shot through with flame. Liquid fire rolls down the slopes and the mountain shakes again.

There is, however, a more immediate problem at hand. Scores of corpses litter the ground nearby. The closest are the ghaash’kala, still in a rough semi-circle, evidently having fought and died where they stood. Facing and among them are approximately fifty creatures of various kinds, including many of the animals the Angels have seen in the Wastes as well as approximately twenty warriors from the Carrion Tribes.

The only living creatures stand merely fifty feet away, a trio of rakshasas of the yellow-furred variety. They stand over the body of Morran, who lies on the corpse of a fourth rakshasa, his sword buried deep in its skull.

For a second, the three rakshasas stare at the four individuals and a giant bear that come rushing out of the entrance, all of them bloody, burned and battered. Then, in unison, they begin to cast spells. A second too late, they realize that the Angels are staring past and above them.

As the Angels emerge, so too, sinking quickly out of the haze that covers the sky, does a giant vessel. At first glance it looks like a normal ship (other than the fact that it is flying, of course), except that it has large control fins and rudders rather than sails. And burning constantly around it is a huge fiery ring. Even with no evident insignia, it is clear to the Angels that they are looking at the most advanced form of elemental vehicle in existence, the Lyrandar airship.

Also instantly recognizable to the Angels are two among the figures clustered around the prow – Saala Torrn and Gurr’khan. That many of the others are of their ilk is quickly apparent. As the airship descends rapidly, they are replicating the motions of Saala and Gurr’khan.

The rakshasas have no warning as eight _flame strike_s slam down simultaneously on them. When the flames disappear, two badly scorched corpses lie there, and the third, heavily burned rakshasa only pauses to hurry through a _dimension door_ and disappear.

The airship comes to a stop and Saala calls down, “Need a ride?”

*****
A few minutes later, the airship is speeding southwest, with the Angels resting on the foredeck and speaking to the assembled Gatekeepers. 

Listening and interjecting comments as Nameless explains what happened, Luna, now back in shifter form, asks, “So we’re absolutely done with that damn Shard, right?”

“Looks like it,” says Six. “I’m not sure what happened, but I think we managed to not just stop whatever was in there from getting out, but locked it in even more tightly.” He feels the burned away portions on his throat, arms and legs, thinking, _I hope so, considering I almost got killed for it._ He glances at Gareth, sitting silently and disconsolate, with the hilt-shard of Kizmet on his lap. _And what he lost._

“Good!” says Luna. “I never want to see or hear of that damn thing again. Pity we couldn’t get that white-haired bastard as a trophy.”

Korm chuckles, “Look on the bright side,” and points at the three rakshasa corpses lying on the deck. “We got a matching set.”   


* Blew her save vs. Harm. Second person below -10 in the fight, Gareth being the first. 
** Opposed Charisma checks between the guy with Cha as a dump stat and a rakshasa are never good.
*** Empowered Greater Fireburst


----------



## Sidekick

NICE!!!!

Good work there crew. That was very, very, very, well done!


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> NICE!!!!
> 
> Good work there crew. That was very, very, very, well done!



 That it was. 

All of the bonuses from the Silver Flame were a significant factor, and the Key ended up helping them more than hurting, but even so, if they hadn't played it very smart and worked as a team, it would easily have become a TPK. And they did both about as well as they've ever done.

The swashbuckling cards worked out very well too. Besides keeping Gareth and Luna alive, they let the PCs stay in the fight a lot of times when one might have been taken out just long enough to make a difference. The bit with Luna blocking the lightning bolt was one example (card allowing you to take an attack intended for another PC), as was Gareth stopping Korm from falling (card allowing you to let someone succeed automatically on a Fort save, since Korm blew his). I forgot to mention one more in the writeup, where Zathara used an empowered Vampiric Touch and someone used a card to minimize damage, so the poor guy got 9 hp back instead of some 30+.

All in all, it worked out as just the kind of thing I wanted for a climactic fight. A dramatic reveal (as poor Gareth can attest), some seriously "Oh crap!" moments, the PCs taking a real beating, and still managing to come through at the end and permanently deal with a significantly major enemy and plot point.


----------



## Sidekick

These swashbuckling cards that you speak of. Where can I find them?

And more importantly do I have to pay for them?


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> These swashbuckling cards that you speak of. Where can I find them?
> 
> And more importantly do I have to pay for them?




I believe they're a combination of a deck created by ENWorld's barsoomcore and something called the Dork20 deck. I believe the first set is free but not the second. I got them via Rolzup, who runs another D&D game I play in, and who writes the Burne story hour in my sig. Check the following links for them:

http://www.darkshire.net/jhkim/rpg/systemdesign/cards/dork20.html

http://barsoom.hyboria.net/Swash.html


----------



## shilsen

Our dear former paladin, Gareth, is up at the Rogues Gallery too. Since I have both Korm's and Luna's characters, I'll add our druids soon enough.


----------



## shilsen

The horror that is Luna is up at the Rogues Gallery.


----------



## Sidekick

Cool.

Now post some story my fine RB friend...

please? 








For Justice?


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Cool.
> 
> Now post some story my fine RB friend...
> 
> please?
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> For Justice?




As you wish. Here are a serious of interactions with various NPCs they had after returning to Sharn. Even though there's no action, a couple of things happened that should be very significant things for the future of the Guardian Angels.

I'll probably have another set of NPC interactions up in quick order (they were played out via some online forums I set up, so I just need to cut, paste and tweak), maybe on Sunday, and then will have the Daask fiasco up. 

And its aftermath, which is turning out to be very juicy indeed. But, for the time being...

* * * * * * * * * *
*Session 46 – Home Sweet Home

Gareth Byron Deneith - Human ex-Paladin3/Clr2/Exorcist of the Silver Flame6
Korm'akhan - Orc Drd7/Hexer4
Luna - Shifter Drd11
Mithral 6 of 6 - Warforged Ftr4/Scout7
Nameless - Human Wiz6/Alienist5*


*A couple of days later, in the Shadow Marches:*

Saala, currently using her druidic abilities to look like her original, orcish form, though the movements of her younger body belie the aged appearance, shakes her head. “If I hadn’t seen what came before and after, I might not have believed your story. You’ve done incredibly well. Not only did you destroy the two rakshasas, one of whom was an ak’chazar, but you also made the Key safe from use, and managed to seal an especially powerful rajah into its prison as tightly as we know of.” 

Saala shakes her head again. “Amazing!” Then she smiles slightly and says, “I must admit, I didn’t really expect you to retrieve the Key, leave alone all the other things you did.” Her eyes flicker sideways to Gurr’khan and rest there. The elderly orc grunts and then says, almost grudgingly, “They did well.”

Korm, sitting across the fire with a heaping plate of spiced meat, laughs. “No problem. I didn’t really think so either.” The expressions on a couple of his companions’ faces say the same.

Saala laughs too. Then she says, more seriously, “The lands of Khorvaire owe you their gratitude, but since it’s unlikely that the Five Nations will be showing up to provide it, you’ll have to settle for mine. If, at any point, the Gatekeepers can aid you, we will attempt to do so.”

“Thank you,” says Nameless. “We appreciate it.”

“So,” says Saala, “You’ll be heading back to Sharn tomorrow, I gather. Gurr’khan will help in the transport, though – I gather – both Korm and Luna can do so as well. It seems some of your empowerment by the Flame has remained?”

“Yes,” says Six, who is still trying to adjust to the improvement to his mental acuity.

“Interesting. Korm, will you be leaving too? One of your abilities would be very valuable to us here, but, at the same time, you’re likely to do a lot of good with your companions.”

The big orc chews meditatively, swallows, and replies, “Yes.” He grins around at the rest of the Angels. “I think we work well together, and they let me experience a lot of things I only ever heard about – and some that I didn’t. Plus they’ve got me almost killed more times than I can count now.” The expression and tone say that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

“Certainly,” says Saala, “I understand.” She sits silently for a moment, and then says, just a trifle hesitantly, “In view of your abilities and what I’ve already seen you do, if at some point…”

Instantly seeing where this is going, Luna rolls her eyes and jumps to her feet. “Sorry – I need to take a walk!”

Saala watches her walk away with a half-smile, while Gurr’khan scowls and grunts, and the rest of the Angels exchange grins. Except for Gareth, sitting off on one side, wrapped in his own gloomy thoughts. Before Saala can speak again, Nameless says, “You don’t need to ask. If we can help the Gatekeepers again at some point, we’ll be happy to do so. Well, maybe all of us except Luna.”

“Thank you. And no, I’m not surprised at her reaction. Or yours.” She grins around the group. “I have met many strange and unusual people, but you are certainly the most…”

******
*A day later, in Sharn:*

“…unusual and impressive group,” says Surr’kal, sitting outside his home in Carosten Park, as the newly returned Angels explain to him what happened to them. “I’m glad that you were the ones to find the Key.”

“You know,” says Six, “I get the impression that was the one thing that rakshasa, Zathara, had not really planned on. But then, we’ll never know.”

“Yeah,” says Nameless with a smirk. “It really would have been nice to turn him into a nice rug.”

“On the bright side,” says Luna, tapping the _bag of holding_ at her side, “We do have two of his buddies to use as rugs if we want. Good thing we got three, since Saala wanted one.”

“Doesn’t work as well,” says Korm, mock-sorrowfully. “We need to get new drapes now, since they don’t match.”

Surr’kal simply shakes his head and laughs at the banter, as well as the idea of a group of people who are carrying around a pair of rakshasa corpses with them.

“We should be going now,” says Nameless. “I’m sure Luna and Korm will be here often, and if you need to contact us, you can do so at our new place.”

“Ah!” says Surr’kal, “That reminds me – your friend Trillia stopped by a few days ago asking if I had received any news of you. She said there is some problem…”

******
“…with the house,” says Trillia, as the group sits around her now fairly cramped sitting room. “I don’t know the details, but Balan Cord said that he’d explain it to you when you eventually see him.”

“All right,” says Nameless. “We were planning to do so soon enough anyway.” He looks slightly uncomfortable, as he continues, “In case there is a problem, can we…”

Trillia chuckles and says, “Yes, you can stay here.” She lifts a finger. “For a time.”

Six lets out a metallic chuckle too. “I always did say that the second most exciting day in your life must have been when this bunch moved in with you. And the most exciting day will be when we leave.”

Trillia laughs but doesn’t deny what he says. Nameless grins too and then says, “On the positive side, I have a number of new dweomers that you will be very interested in. And I picked up a couple of small magical trinkets for you.”

Trillia quirks a curious eyebrow. “You’re becoming quite the charmer, aren’t you? Then again, you’re becoming quite the master mage, as well. To the best of my knowledge, now that you can harness valences of the sixth power, you surpass all wizards and sorcerers in the city. Let’s just say you are going to be very respected at the Guild. I presume it’s safe to say you’re not exactly interested in getting yourself one of the administrative positions there, right?”

“Right,” says Nameless emphatically. “You know,” he continues, “One of the most interesting things about being able to cast…”

Luna rolls her eyes. “Can you two have your spellcasting love-fest after we check out what the problem is with the house? I want a place of our own, damn it!”

Korm laughs. “She has a point. My guess is Balan will say it’s something to do with the …” 

******
“….specific location,” explains Balan, in the meeting room adjoining his office. “Anywhere else in the city, just your money would be enough to get you the place. But this is Upper Tavick’s Landing.”

“So?” snorts Luna. “What’s so freaking special about Upper Tavick’s?”

Balan throws an amused glance her way. “Lots of money, that’s what. During the Last War, the leaders of Upper Tavick’s petitioned the city council and got a few laws passed which pertain only to that ward, which let it function almost like its own city. They’ve got their own division of the Deneith Blademark posted there, who have equal authority with the City Watch in the ward. You haven’t actually been there yet, right?”

“No.”

“Well, you’ll need a few permits when you do. You need a permit to carry a weapon there. And the chances of a non-Brelander getting it are effectively non-existent. Any member of the Watch or the Blademark can demand to see a license and if you don’t have one, or are carrying any weapons not specifically listed on the license, will confiscate them. Similarly, you need a license to cast spells and have to list what spells you’ll be casting. Armor is generally considered inappropriate unless you’re a member of the Watch or House Deneith, or some government branch. You can be escorted from the district and be ordered to stay away if not dressed appropriately.”

“What?! Are they all nuts there?”

“Nope. Just rich, like I said. Oh, I forgot to mention that if you’re buying a place in Ocean View, which is the district the Gray House is in, you need at least thirty current residents signing a petition allowing you to do so.”

Six grunts. “Maybe we should talk to Killian. He’s sure to have dirt on thirty people there.”

As Balan chuckles, Nameless says, “I don’t think blackmail is the best way to obtain permission to stay there. Anyone you know who can help? Who’s the councilor from Upper Tavick’s?”

“Bestan ir’Tonn, a very wealthy barrister and a member of the Sixty Families. He’s been their representative for decades. Unfortunately, I doubt he’s going to be that interested in helping you people. By the way, did I mention that he’s well-connected with the Boromars?”

“Boromars! Daask!” Korm shakes his head. “These guys seem to be everywhere.”

“They are,” says Balan, with a sigh. “But one person who might be able to help is Talleon. You know, the…”

“…head of the Dark Lanterns,” says Nameless. “Yes, I remember. In fact, I was planning to speak to him at some point.”

“Good. Talleon told me to tell you to speak to him when you get back. As I said, he may be able to help.”

“I’m sure he will, from what little we’ve already seen of him,” says Nameless. “On a different note, you can close the book on Arrok’s and Dala’s murders.”

“Really? That’s good to know, since it’s not like we were discovering anything new about them. So you found the murderer? And did you dispose of him?”

“Yes. It was a rakshasa. Mind you, I can provide no proof of this, but we know now that they had been observing us closely for some time and their abilities match too closely with a number of the puzzling aspects of how Arrok was murdered. The rakshasa had motivations for killing both of them as well, related to that item we were concerned about when I was framed for Arrok’s murder.”

Balan looks genuinely surprised. “A rakshasa? I’d be skeptical if someone else told me, but you folks seem to have knowledge of, and encounter, the strangest things. And you’re sure it’s dead?”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “Let’s just say if it shows up again, you’ll have something much bigger to worry about.” He grins. “And you’ll know it’s here by the screaming and sounds of us running away.”

“Intriguing. Care to tell me about it?”

Nameless goes into a quick coverage of what had happened with the Key and the Angels’ recent adventures, with the others adding little details. Balan listens silently, except for a question or two. Finally, when Nameless is done, he says, “O – kay! Sounds like you were fortunate to all make it back in one piece. I’m glad it was outside my jurisdiction, so to say.”

Nameless laughs. “Just a bit. Anyhow, I wanted you to know that we’re back for a while, and if ever we can help you with anything, just let us know.”

“Thank you. That’s very generous.”

“Not a problem. In all honesty, we’ve had enough problems with various parties trying to manipulate us that I figure it’s useful to be on good terms with people like you and law enforcement in general. That way we can avoid misunderstandings like happened last time.”

“I understand,” says Balan, “And agree. And, as I said, I appreciate the offer. It would be very beneficial to us to work with people of your…”

******
“…unusual abilities,” says Talleon, looking over his desk at the Angels.

“So people keep telling us,” says Luna, with a scowl. _And keep wanting us to do things for them_.

“Well,” says the gnome with a smile, “It’s true.” He looks back at Nameless, who’s just gone through a short version of the story he’s been repeating a few times today. “And in view of the experiences you’ve had – and more importantly, survived – it’s safe to say that you are the most competent set of adventurers in Sharn.” 

Talleon falls silent and stares meditatively at the group for just long enough for the silence to get a little uncomfortable, and says, “It’ll be helpful having you around.”

Nameless nods. “As I already told Balan, we’ll be happy to help you in some way if we can.”

Talleon inclines his head slightly. “Thank you. I appreciate the offer.” He slides out a paper from under a pile, without bothering to look at it, and says, “I believe you’re having some problems getting access to the Gray House.”

“Yes.”

“Have you considered becoming Brelish citizens?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected shift in subject, the Angels stare at Talleon uncomprehendingly for a moment, until Korm says, “Huh?”

“Brelish citizens. Perhaps the biggest problem in the way of you getting the Gray House is your status as foreigners.”

“I’m Brelish,” points out Luna.

“I know. And four of you aren’t. Foreign nationals don’t get to buy property in Upper Tavick’s. Period. The Gray House was owned by the same family of Karrnathi nobles for four generations, which is why it wasn’t Brelish-owned. And the fact that it turned out to be owned by Karrnathi vampires, who were heading a secret cell of the Emerald Claw, hasn’t helped the chances of foreigners obtaining property in Upper Tavick’s.”

Talleon continues, “Considering that you are buying a substantial piece of property and expecting to live in Sharn for the foreseeable future, it seems that it would make perfect sense for you to become Brelish citizens. Do any of you have objections to that?”

“Will we have to pay extra taxes?” asks Six.

Talleon chuckles. “Ah, yes – adventurers! And no, you won’t have to pay extra taxes. In fact, you’ll be saving some money, probably a significant amount, since we tax foreigners a fair bit more heavily. So – what do you say?”

“I’m fine with it,” says Nameless. “Six and I don’t exactly have a nation to belong to right now.” The warforged nods.

“I’m technically a Marcher,” says Korm, “But I’ve been traveling around most of my life. I have no objections.”

“I do,” says Gareth, who has been sitting silently through the entire discussion. “I am quite satisfied being Karrnathi.”

Talleon looks at him silently for a few moments, and then says, “The Karrnathi angle causes a little trouble, considering the Emerald Claw affair, but you have the advantage of being affiliated with the Silver Flame and having connections to the Deneith enclave. And with four Brelanders in the group, it won’t be a problem. We can take care of the citizenship issue tomorrow and I expect you’ll have the house in less than a week’s time.” 

The gnome looks around and adds, “A big advantage, for me personally, is that this also makes it much easier for me to use your abilities if needed. And for you to get credit for it. Let’s just say that it’s a lot easier for us to openly say that “The Brelish adventuring group The Guardian Angels provided crucial help to the Citadel” than to say that a group consisting mostly of foreign adventurers did so.” He smiles thinly. “Call it a hangover of the War.”

Nameless says, “I understand.” Then he looks around at his companions and turns back to Talleon with a grin. “Remember that room you tested us out in once?”

Talleon smiles back. “Yes. Want another chance to show me how good you really are?”

“Hell yeah!” puts in Luna. “I haven’t killed anything all day.” Korm simply grins too, while Gareth nods grimly. Six, however, wishes he could actually roll his eyes. “Seems a waste of time, but I’ll go along and sit in a corner.”

“Excellent,” says Talleon. “Follow me.”

Half an hour later, he stands in front of the Angels outside the test room. “Very impressive,” he says, though the tone doesn’t seem as much. “That was the best I’ve seen thus far if one includes magic and swordplay, though I’ve seen a couple of better displays of pure bladework. Very impressive.” 

Talleon glances at Gareth, who stands silently off to the side, seemingly lost in his thoughts. “He seemed especially violent in there. Anything wrong?”

“He’s just having a …”

******
*During the next couple of weeks:*

“…bad few days,” says Gareth, dropping heavily into a chair opposite Cedric.

“I believe you,” says the older paladin with a grin. “You look like !”

That draws a faint smile from Gareth. “Thanks! Do you have anything to drink?”

Cedric theatrically raises his hands in horror. “The Flame protect us! Something must _really_ be wrong!” He walks over to a cabinet, produces a bottle and a couple of glasses, and pours Gareth a drink. “Here you go. Now tell Uncle Cedric what’s wrong.”

Gareth swallows half the glass, grimacing at the taste, and then pauses to cough at the unusual sensation. Cedric says nothing, but his eyes narrow for a moment. After a few seconds, Gareth begins. He starts at the Battle of Grace, with his father’s death and Kizmet being handed to him and the beginning of his paladinhood (or so he thought), and continues onwards, till the encounter at the Lake of Flame and the revelation of what was actually going on.

Cedric remains silent for most of the story, except for a quiet question or two, and refilling Gareth’s glass silently when needed. 

When Gareth finishes, his words are distinctly slurring. “So, you see, Cedric,” he says, waving his glass drunkenly, “I need to find a way to become a paladin again.” 

_Sounds like you were never a paladin_ thinks Cedric, but says nothing. Gareth almost drops the glass, recovers, and then looks at Cedric with bleary eyes. “How did you do it? You got called by the Flame, right?”

Cedric grins. “Not exactly. When I was around your age, a certain … friend … brought me into the worship of the Silver Flame. I was never a priest, and I never had the kind of vows you do, but I was what you might call devout. I believed in the Flame as the answer to all things, as you do. And then something happened that … well, broke my faith.” 

Cedric’s eyes go cold for a moment, and then they return to their normal, easy humor and he continues. “And me too, or nearly so. I lost all faith in the world around me, and especially in the Flame.”

Listening with rapt, if drunken, interest, Gareth asks, “So what happened? Did you atone somehow? Or do some holy quest for the Flame?”

Cedric laughs. “Not that easy. I went down, all the way down, to the darkest place inside me. And then I sat in my room and yelled at the Flame. A lot. I used a few words you probably don’t know, and informed the Flame that if it bloody well wanted me to do its work, then it needs to get its shiny silver ass down and speak to me, because I needed to talk to it.” Even in his inebriated state, Gareth shivers slightly, at what sounds very much like blasphemy.

Cedric shrugs. “And then it spoke to me and I spoke to it, and we came to an understanding, and here I am.”

“What?! That’s it? Tell me what really happened.”

“There really is not much to say. I came to an understanding with, and of, the Flame. And of our world. I wasn’t chosen to be a paladin. I chose.” 

“Huh? How do I do that?”

“Honestly,” says Cedric, “I have no idea. We all have to find our own route to it.” _Assuming there is a route for you._

“But, but…,” says Gareth, rising to his feet and swaying back and forth. “You need to tell me h….”

The sentence is never completed, as the eyes roll back and he goes over. Cedric is out of his chair in a flash, and he catches Gareth as he falls. And watches sadly as Gareth’s falling glass shatters, spilling alcohol across the floor. _The sacrifices I have to make!_

Mazin Tana hurries in from next door at the sound, to give Cedric an exasperated look. “What is it with you and getting paladins drunk?”

“Shush!” says Cedric, good-naturedly. “Anyway, he’s no longer…”

******
“…a paladin,” says the Archierophant Ythana Morr.

“I _am_ a paladin!” says Gareth angrily, perhaps fueled as much by his hangover as by his somewhat waning certainty about his relationship with the Silver Flame.

Ythana’s eyes go cold and hard, and if Gareth were not so distraught he might notice how much she looks like his grandmother at this moment. Perhaps it is this evident pain and sorrow that makes her restrain herself. “All right. You do not currently possess the powers of a paladin.”

Gareth subsides slightly and says, “Yes. That is what I have to recover. Archierophant, how well connected are you within the Church hierarchy?”

Ythana replies dryly, “As well connected as anyone in Breland. Why?”

“Because I am thinking of a traveling to Flamekeep to meet the Speaker. I need to know if my father’s soul is part of the Flame. Or if he is in Hell.”

“Why do you think he would be? From the tale you have told me, it seems the demon entered the sword only moments before he fell.”

“I just need to be sure,” says Gareth. “The sword duped me, and I do not know if it did so to him earlier. Also, I wish to know if there is some quest by which I can redeem myself.”

The Archierophant considers silently for a while and then says, “I will think about it and see what information I can gain for you. I will send you a message when I have something to tell you. But, before you go, you obviously know that the festival of the Ascension is occurring in less than two weeks.”

Gareth nods. No worshipper of the Flame, and very few people in one of Khorvaire’s cities, could fail to know when the annual celebration of Tira Miron’s sacrifice and the beginning of the religion occurred. 

Ythana continues, “Naturally, the primary ceremonies in Sharn will be at the Cathedral. I would like you to take part in them with us.”

“I will be honored.”

“Good. Then I will speak to you as soon as I have news. Feel free to visit the Cathedral whenever you want. I will give instructions that one of the private chapels be made available to you whenever you need it.”

Gareth thanks her, bows and takes his leave. As he heads downstairs, planning to spend some time in one of the chapels, his thoughts turn to the next visit on the agenda for the group. It is time to find out whether Thurik Davandi, councilor from Upper Menthis, is or…

******
“…is not Killian.” Luna, who is benefiting from one of Nameless’ _true seeing_ spells nods to corroborate Six’s opinion as the Angels look through the observation gallery at the Sharn city council at work. “He has no magical disguises on.”

“Yeah,” agrees Korm. “Thurik Davandi isn’t Killian, I think. But that son of his might be. Thurik really does look like an older version of Killian, or what we saw of Killian when he took off that _hat of disguise_. We should go check him out.”

Six nods. “Since Sava Kharisa gave us the location of Davandi’s shop when we spoke to her yesterday, we might as well. And she did say that nobody knows of any real work this Thurian guy does, other than supposedly helping around the shop.”

“Speaking of Sava,” says Nameless, “We have to remember and meet with that Watch captain she recommended – Iyanna ir’Talan. If she’s as incorruptible as Sava says she is, I want her to know we’re willing to help the law in this city, and for us to be in her good books.”

“I just noticed something interesting,” says Luna, who is still looking down into the chamber. “Six – come take a look at the changeling.”

Six, who also has a similar spell from Nameless effective on him, walks over. After a couple of seconds, he says, “Interesting all right. And strange.”

“What?” asks Gareth, as he looks at the elderly changeling called Kilk, the representative for Lower Tavick’s, who openly wears his changeling appearance.

“He’s not who he seems to be,” says Luna. “He is a changeling. But he’s a younger changeling making himself look older. And different, though I’m not much good at changeling features.”

“Not hairy enough, eh?” quips Korm, drawing a scowl, but even he looks puzzled. “Why would he disguise himself that way? Weird.”

Six shakes his head. “Haven’t you people learned, yet? This is Sharn. _Everything_ is weird. And everything has a reason for being however it is.”

Nameless shrugs. “This doesn’t concern us right now. Let’s go and deal with our more immediate issue – finding…”

******
“…Thurian Davandi,” says Nameless to the attendant in the Davandi Fine Tailoring.

The attendant looks a little askance at the odd collection, especially considering how well armed they are, but nods. “Of course. Please wait here while I get him.” He turns and walks to, and up, a staircase near the back of the large store.

A few minutes later, when Killian, aka Thurian Davandi, walks down the stairs, he finds the Angels assembled at the bottom. Expectedly, if he is the least bit surprised, he shows no signs of it.

“Ah, my friends,” Thurian says, beaming expansively, “I’d been wondering when you’d eventually be kind enough to visit me.”

“Well,” says Nameless, “We figured you already know we’re back, so we thought we’d save you the effort of contacting us.”

Thurian’s smile broadens. “So kind of you, as always.” He looks around and says, “I see all of you are here, and all looking so healthy. Excellent, excellent.” The gnome looks at Gareth and a look of deep concern crosses his face. “But you, Gareth – you look a little different. Ah, I see now – Kizmet is missing. What happened to it?”

Luckily, Korm is nearby to grab Gareth’s arm as the paladin – or rather, former never-really-was paladin – takes a quick step towards the gnome with what looks like a thundercloud on his face.

Unperturbed, Thurian simply lifts a quizzical eyebrow. “Touched a sore spot, did I? I am _so_ sorry. You know I hate to see you hurt.”

Luna growls, “Okay – we’ve seen enough, people. Let’s go.”

“So soon?” chirps Thurian. “Alas, parting is such sweet sorrow. But I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

As they are heading away, Six thinks of something and stops. “Actually, I have a question…”

“Yes, yes – I’m sure,” says Thurian quickly, interrupting him. “I’ll make it all clear to you.”

Six stops, wondering how the gnome knows what he was about to ask. Thurian steps forward, waves his hands and says, “See – men’s clothing on the left, women’s clothing on the right, shirts towards the front of the store, trousers over there…”

The warforged shakes his head disgustedly and turns away, hurrying to join his friends.

Thurian waves gaily after him. “Don’t be a stranger.”

As Six emerges from the shop, Korm says, “I don’t know why, but just being around that guy makes me feel dirty somehow.” He pauses, and then growls, “Actually, I do know why.”

“Forget about him,” says Luna. “It’s time to go and check out…”

******
“…our house!” Luna grins broadly and spreads her arms, as if to embrace the cold stone walls around her.

Nameless looks at her curiously. “I didn’t think this would be something you’d be that interested in, considering you spend all the nights you can at the Park.”

“The Park’s good,” says Luna, walking around and peering down corridors and into rooms, “But you can’t really decorate it.” She stops suddenly. “Oooh – I have to go shopping!”

The others exchange glances as Luna spends the next half an hour rushing from room to room, muttering and smiling gleefully to herself. They too spread out around the building, checking out its different aspects and comparing it with the information Balan has given them.

When they finally reconvene in the main parlor, Luna isn’t the only one grinning. “This place is excellent!” says Nameless. “Four floors, tons of rooms, secret panels in half the rooms, really thick walls, single entry via skybridge – it should be comfortable as hell and really easy to defend. Did you notice the guard posts and the portcullis? Sure, it’s broken, but it’ll be easy to repair.”

“And there’s a roof garden,” says Korm. “Well, not really a garden, but there’s potential for one, and I bet Luna and I can have one up and running shortly.” He looks around the parlor and adds, “It’s just stuffy now because of the lack of windows and since they kept the balcony doors closed, but Luna and I can _stone shape_ those windows into functionality tomorrow.”

Six, who has been checking part of the wall, says, “Notice these small holes?” pointing to four inch-wide holes ringed with metal. “I think these are the things Balan said the vampires used to be able to get quickly and secretly from floor to floor.”

“Must be. They get _stone shape_d shut as soon as can be too.”

“We’re going to need carpets, drapes, furniture, and a bunch of other things,” says Luna, with evident anticipation. “Oh yeah – I’m going to have to take the master bedchamber.”

“Huh? Why do you get it?” asks Gareth. 

“Fat. Bear,” says Korm quietly, but Luna’s next words take the smile of his face.

“Because I’m going to need lots of room for my litter, stupid,” says Luna.

There is a long moment of deathly silence. Finally Six, in the tones of someone opening a door he is sure is trapped, asks quietly, “Litter?”

“Yeah. I’ve decided I need to start breeding. I’m going to need a big nursery.”

There is silence again. This time, it’s Nameless who speaks. “And *what* do you plan to be … breeding with?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” says Luna, with a toss of her head, as if to indicate it’s a simple matter. “I need to find a powerful druid, preferably a Gatekeeper.”

“Like Korm?” asks Six.

“Thank you,” says Korm bitterly. “Thank you _very much_, Six!”

“No!” says Luna emphatically, throwing them both a withering look. “My kids can’t have a dad who’s always making fun of their mom.” She then glares around at everyone. “And when my kids arrive, I can’t be having all this ‘fat’ and ‘hairy’ crap! It’ll be a really bad influence on them!”

“O – kay,” says Gareth, taking a surreptitious step away. “But they’re not arriving soon then?”

“Of course not!” says Luna. “I have to find the right guy first. Hmm, maybe that Hruit guy on the city council. He’s a little old, but in pretty good shape, and having a dad on the council could be really handy. I bet he’d be able to get the kids into the right schools too.”

Seeing that she’s half talking to herself, the four others quietly and quickly back away from Luna and head for the door. “Drink?” says Korm.

“Yes – drink!” reply both Gareth and Nameless, while Six adds mournfully, “Right now, I really wish I _could_ drink!”

Luna turns around belatedly to see them heading out the door. She glares after them for a moment, and then laughs to herself. “Men!”


----------



## Sidekick

Shi, that was very very very well written.

Ka Pai (well done) indeed!!!

Sounds like the Angels are getting themselves well set up for some mischief and hurt in Sharn. 

Just the way I like it!

Now go get cracking on that Daask hurt.

FOR JUSTICE!!!


----------



## Furby076

Yes, it hurt during that fight.

Kizmet shatters
Demon who killed father appears
Demon laughs at Gareth
Gareth no longer (never was) a paladin
Gareth has nervous breakdown

-Avi

P.s. Luna gets the master bedroom over his dead body, and then I bust out my ghostwalk campaign book and still take it


----------



## Sidekick

Yeah that must have hurt, but to be honest it's a pretty coolthing to happen to your paladin.

Now you have a very very good reason for a personally important quest AND at the same time the DM hasn't completely screwed you. - If you'd had no levels in cleric, imagine how you'd feel!!!!

This is the sort of character you'll be talking about for years to come - the paladin that never was...

Good luck with the whole quest and a55 kicking in the name of the Flame thing. 

As an Eberron DM I can think of a few missions that I'd be giving you to reclaim/gain Paladin status.

I don't think you'd like them though...

Merry Christmas Everyone!!!


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Shi, that was very very very well written.
> 
> Ka Pai (well done) indeed!!!




Thanks. I decided to change things slightly with the transitions and shorter interchanges, and it seemed to work well.



> Sounds like the Angels are getting themselves well set up for some mischief and hurt in Sharn.
> 
> Just the way I like it!








> Yeah that must have hurt, but to be honest it's a pretty coolthing to happen to your paladin.
> 
> Now you have a very very good reason for a personally important quest AND at the same time the DM hasn't completely screwed you. - If you'd had no levels in cleric, imagine how you'd feel!!!!
> 
> This is the sort of character you'll be talking about for years to come - the paladin that never was...




I hope so. What happened to Gareth is the kind of thing, IMO, that's really cool as long as it doesn't screw up the character concept and its playability in the long term, and it's probably the most memorable thing I've seen happen to a paladin in any game I've run or played in. 

In order to keep Gareth playable while he's not a paladin, I've given him a "virtual" level of cleric spellcasting, so he currently casts as a 7th lvl cleric (with CL 11, due to his Practiced Spellcaster feat) and has access to 4th lvl spells. In effect, all he's lost right now that really matters is his Divine Grace ability, and the extra spells come close to making up for it.

And a holy quest is definitely on the cards, as you'll see in the update below. The following is a set of three encounters that Gareth had before the Daask thing, which we handled between sessions. So the Gareth parts are written by AviLazar, with some tweaks from me.

The Daask thing should probably be up on Monday.

********************
*GARETH & OTHERS (Handled between sessions)

GARETH & LALIA: *

When Gareth goes to visit Lalia at the Deneith Enclave, he is greeted by a couple of people there who have seen him visit before. They quickly send him through and up to her office. As he walks towards the door, a bit more somberly then he would like to have been, Gareth hears the sound of laughter in a couple of voices. When he knocks, Lalia’s voice says, “Yes? Come in.”

Gareth enters to find her sitting on one side of the desk, with both feet on it, while Tasra lounges nearby on a comfortable couch. His mood brightens upon seeing her, but so marginally nobody could possibly notice – not even Gareth. 

“Well, well ... return of the prodigal,” says Tasra, with a smirk, while Lalia says, “Gareth!” and jumps excitedly to her feet. She comes quickly around the desk and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Where have you been?”

Tasra rises and strolls over more slowly, to clap Gareth on the shoulder. “Long time no see, soldier. Don’t you know someone here has been crying over you?” Gareth simply nods to Tasra, not laughing at the joke – not because it isn’t funny, but because his mind is clouded with other things.

Lalia, meanwhile, turns and sticks out her tongue at her twin, like a little child. “Liar!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” grins Tasra, as she heads for the door. “I’ll give you kids some space. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Turning in the doorway, she winks at Gareth. “And if you do actually do something I’d do, try not to break the furniture. And here’s a tip. There’s this spot on the back of Lalia’s neck whi...”

Tasra just has time to shut the door before a thrown dagger slams into it, where it sticks (next to a number of similar holes, Gareth notices). Her laughter is heard softly, receding down the hall outside.

Lalia mutters, “Bitch!” good-naturedly and turns back to Gareth. “But now that she’s gone...” She throws both arms around Gareth’s neck, having to stand a little on tiptoe, and gives him a passionate kiss on the lips. 

“There. Welcome back!” She steps back and hops up onto her desk. “Sit! Tell me where you’ve been.” She tilts her head, as if noticing something, and adds, “Where’s Kizmet?”

Gareth puts his arms around Lalia, kissing her and then he starts to cry. “Kizmet is no more!”  He produces the hilt. “And it was not what I – or my father – believed it was. And it goes far more worse then that.” 

At any other time, Gareth might have been amused at the look of complete and utter shock that flashes over Lalia’s face. Her mouth opens once, twice, and then a third time, before she can actually say, “Umm ... er ....” Finally she just settles for hugging him again.

After a moment, Gareth asks, “Do you have something I can get to drink?”

Lalia lifts an eyebrow, and though she doesn’t comment on it, her expression clearly says, _It must be seriously bad for you to be asking for a drink!_

She goes over to a nearby cabinet, opens it to reveal a small bar, and produces a bottle and two glasses. She pours a generous glassful, pauses, and then pours some more, before handing it to Gareth. Then, gently, she urges him towards the couch. “Sit.” She sits next to him, pouring herself a glassful, and says, “Tell me everything.”

Gareth sits down, and drinks the entire glass. Taking a deep breath, he starts relating the entire story, choking up at some of the rough spots. “The Archeirophant is helping me find out what happened to my father’s soul. If it is in hell, I will need to find a way to get there and save him. She is also trying to help me get an audience with the Keeper of the Flame. I will need to embark on a holy quest to atone and regain my grace. Eventually, I will need to reforge Kizmet.”

Lalia listens silently to the entire story, making the odd commiserating or soothing sound, but not actually saying anything. After a surprised look as he drains the glass, she silently refills it.

“So,” she says carefully, once he is done, “You want to go to Hell? But why do you think your father’s soul might be there?” 

“I do not want to go to hell, but if my father’s soul is there, I must go. This creature tried to possess me, control me and bend my soul to its will. It could not do this because I am an exorcist, and my training makes me immune to its powers. My father was not an exorcist and did not have such protections. If he is there, I must save his soul; to leave him to an eternity of torment...” He pauses, and then, looking Lalia in the eyes, says, “I cannot allow that to happen.”

Lalia nods slowly. “And what are you going to atone for? You didn’t say that you had done anything wrong, but were simply fooled by an evil creature.”

After thinking for a moment on Lalia’s question, to answer it to a person who may not know, Gareth says, “The calling of a paladin is stricter than any other calling a being could have. The path of a paladin is narrow, and veering from that path – even involuntarily – is no excuse. The fact that I did nothing wrong allows me to regain the grace of the Silver Flame, but it is no excuse.” 

Gareth sits there silently for a moment. Then he asks, “What of you? What have you been doing?”

Lalia is just beginning, “I do not quite un...,” when Gareth’s question catches her off-guard. 

After a moment, she laughs, though not as loudly as she normally would. “After what you just told me, anything I said would be completely meaningless. What have I been doing? The usual. Work, the odd party, that’s all.”

Gareth gives a weak smile. “I did not want this conversation to be entirely about me, it would not be polite.” 

Lalia waves a hand to dismiss the thought. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to be polite with me. You have way more important things going on than me, it seems. Anyway, can I help you in any way?” 

 “I do not know if there is anything you can do for me. This is a holy matter, and if I must travel to hell, there is no way I would be willing to put you in that kind of danger. Anyway, I will decide what to do there when I know more.” 

“Well,” admits Lalia, with a wry grin, “I wasn’t quite offering to go to Hell with you yet.”

If possible, Gareth looks a little more troubled look on his face. “Make no mistake – you are a very important person in my life, maybe the most. If I did not have other obligations I would spend a lot more time with you. I think of you often on my holy quests.” He smiles briefly. “The group, as unlikely as it sounds, would agree with me”

Lalia smiles broadly and leans forward to give Gareth a quick kiss. Then she sits back and says, “You’re sweet. And quite a charmer, when you choose to be. If you didn’t have that da..., that vow of yours, you would be getting quite a lot of ass, if you wanted to.”

Gareth turns red for a moment. “In addition to vows, I think waiting makes the event, if it should happen, more special. I have heard stories, from people, who regret not waiting – but then I know people, even a paladin of the Flame, who believe in having premarital affairs liberally. I know exactly what I am missing, and it is not easy. It has always been easy, never requiring even a thought, but not with you. As always, I appreciate your understanding and patience with me.”

Lalia says nothing, but her expression flits between “Yeah, right!” and “You so do not know what you are missing!”

“Anyhow,” continues Gareth, “What is going on with my application to the enclave?”

Lalia purses her lips. “As for the application, there’s a problem. I spoke to Sadral myself, and he’s uncertain how exactly we can use your abilities. After all, with your allegiance to the Silver Flame, you can’t exactly accept any job we throw your way. And with the fact that you have the rest of the Angels to consider – you’re still with them, I presume – that cuts down on options for you being sent somewhere, to command a troop or something like that. He thinks it’ll probably be best for you to be a nominal member of the enclave, but to function more like the mercenary troops or adventurers we broker jobs for. We find you a job or two, and if interested, you take them up, and the enclave gets a cut of the pay or profits. What do you think?”

Gareth nods, knowing that Sadral’s words are true. “He is correct. I would be spread too thin – and sometimes I already am. I think being asked to assist the enclave when jobs arise works fine for me. And yes, I am still with the rest of my group, though I believe some of them want to change the group name to ‘Instruments of Destruction.’ Why I do not know.”

Lalia chortles. “Instruments of Destruction? I think there’s a traveling halfling band from Talenta with that name which passed through Sharn not too long ago.” 

Then her face turns more serious, as she continues, “As you say, Sadral’s right. I’m glad you see it that way too. We’ll go with that for the time being and see what develops in the future.”

Gareth laughs at the mention of the Instruments of Destruction. “That is probably the funniest news I have heard yet, and I will let them know. But I have another question – what are you doing for dinner?”

“Dinner? I had something, but it’s not a problem to change. I’ll be free to join you.”

“Are you sure? I would not want you to break plans because of me. Your friends are important. If you would like, maybe we can include your friends? It would not be proper to stand them up.”

Lalia shakes her head. “Nah! I was just going to have a night in with Tasra. She’d be the first person to say I should join you tonight, and it’ll be much better without her along. Unless you want to hear a _lot_ of very crude innuendo tonight. That girl’s got a mouth on her!”

Lalia puts on a mock serious tone, puts a hand to her chest and says, “Unlike me, of course, who would never, ever talk dirty to you.” 

Then she smiles wickedly and says, “Unless you asked very nicely.”

Gareth reddens slightly again, but lets it pass. “Then it is settled. Tonight we will enjoy each other’s company without any other Angels or your sister.” He then stands up, and says, “I must be going. Nameless would like to organize a little excursion to a Daask drug den and rough them up a bit. Something about testing out some of our new equipment and picking an easy fight, instead of having to fight to the death. At least it will do some good to Sharn to have one less drug den.” 

Lalia shakes her head. “What is it with you guys and Daask?” She shrugs. “Anyway, after what you told me you’ve been up to, knocking over a drug den shouldn’t be a problem, as long as you’re careful. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you if they get pissed off enough to come after you seriously. On the bright side, that new place you said you got is in one of the hardest areas of town for a Daask crew to come to, short of Skyway.”

“For me,” says Gareth, “They are evil, and that is enough. I think it is a matter we started with them and we want to finish them. The new place will be nice, and I think I will be able to get the master bedroom – I need a lot of space. And the Silver Flame help the poor soul who tries to enter my home uninvited, because nothing else will be able to.”

Lalia shrugs and extends a hand for Gareth to pull her to her feet. He gives her a hug and kiss. “And before I forget – the Archeirophant asked me to participate at a holiday for the Silver Flame. If you are not tied to any duties that day, would you like to come?”

 “Oh, the Ascension? Not normally my thing, but I’d be curious to see what you’re doing. If I’m free, I may show up.” She hugs and kisses Gareth in return and says, “Stop by my place at seven this evening.”

“It would be nice to see you there. The Archeirophant would like me to join her in the ceremony, and that is a great honor for me.” He kisses Lalia back. “I will see you soon.” With that, Gareth turns and leaves.

That evening, Gareth shows up to Lalia’s home, dressed in fine clothing. He is carrying his new longsword, and is wearing his mithral chain shirt underneath his clothing. He also carries a bouquet of flowers (for Lalia) and a box of chocolates (for Tasra).

It’s Tasra who lets Gareth in, saying, “Good timing. Lalia just got done getting all dolled up for you.”

She leads Gareth into the living room, where Lalia is sitting, looking exceptionally fetching. While she isn’t dressed up for a night on the town, she has definitely spent more than a little time on her appearance. Lalia greets Gareth happily, especially when he hands over the bouquet.

Tasra seems even more excited about the chocolates, and by the time Lalia’s back with a vase, already has the box open and is digging in. “I’ve got to say, sis,” she mumbles around a mouthful of chocolate, “This one’s a keeper.” 

Tasra rises and heads for the door, giving Gareth a wave, and says, “Thanks. These are great. Have fun, you two.” As she disappears out the door, one can hear her mumbling. “Uhmm - with these, who needs a man?”

Lalia grins after her and then turns back to Gareth. “I figured we’d spend the evening at home talking, rather than going out somewhere. I got us some nice wine, and I’m having dinner delivered, since that’s not exactly my strength. Better than bothering to go out somewhere, I think.”

Grinning at Tasra’s chocolate frenzy, Gareth turns to Lalia. “It will be nice to spend some time alone; at the very least I will not have to deal with the public at large. Being well known is not that fun”.

He takes the bottle of wine and uncorks it, pouring it into the glasses, and then hands Lalia a glass. With a grin, he toasts, “To a wild night out in Sharn?”

Lalia grins back, “I’ll drink to that.”

The evening passes very pleasantly. Most of the early conversation is about Gareth’s experiences during the time away from Sharn, Lalia being alternately amused, fascinated, and impressed by all that occurred. The whole issue of the demon in the sword is obviously of especial interest, but so is the whole story of how the Angels had apparently been manipulated by the rakshasas, as well as the details of the final battle and the last use of the Key.

The story takes a while longer than should be the case, since there are certain interruptions, with a fair amount of cuddling and as much physical contact as Gareth is willing to indulge in. Unsurprisingly, Lalia isn’t the one who draws the lines here, though she doesn’t push when Gareth does restrain himself.

Another interruption is for the start of dinner. The meal is excellent, consisting of traditional, and very well-made, Karrnathi cuisine. By the time they are done with the thick soup, heavy stew, multi-layered casserole, and crusty bread and cheese that make up the meal, Gareth is feeling quite heavy. 

Lalia looks at him as he stifles a yawn, after they have left the table. “You’re looking tired. Sure you want to bother going all the way back home?” She grins roguishly and says, “If you stay, I promise I won’t hog the covers.”

Gareth hugs Lalia. “The wine was great, the meal even better, and your company the best. And I am feeling very tired. It has been a long day, and stressful. I would, if possible, prefer to stay here. Going home right now will mean I have to answer Six’s questions about what happened. He is trying to learn about human mating habits. Don’t ask! If it is okay with you, could I stay here,” Gareth pauses for a second, “On the couch?”

Lalia’s expressions flit very quickly between surprise, hope and eventual disappointment. She sighs and says, “Thanks. And that works just fine.”

She arranges a comfortable couch for Gareth to stay on and, after close to an hour more of talking, leaves him.


*GARETH & FLIM:*

The day after the group moves into the new house, while the rest of them are out:

There’s a knock on the door. Gareth opens it to find a very familiar-looking gnome standing on the doorstep. “Hey!” says Flim Turen, with a bright smile. “So you guys _are_ back! Excellent! Sharn just isn’t the same without my favorite group of adventurers here.”

“Anyway, can I come in?” Even before the reply, Flim is walking forward. “So, tell me – what’s new with you guys? How’d you like the new place? Heard you got Brelish citizenships and all. Well, except you. And where’d you get those rakshasas you’re getting stuffed? You know, I’ve never heard of that being done by ... well, anyone. And you got a mind flayer stuffed there too! Very impressive. So ... what’s up?”

Gareth sighs, and is happy that nobody else is around. “Come on in, Flim. By the way, while it is no secret, would you please not publish the location of our home? We would prefer to make it as difficult as possible for our enemies to find out where we live.” 

After ushering Flim into the main parlor, he continues, “The new place is not bad. We are right now organizing everything and trying to keep Luna from putting hay on the floor.” The expression on his face indicates that he’s not joking. “As for the rakshasas, we actually left behind a skin or two. You probably want to hear the story, don’t you? But first, tell us what is new with Sharn ... with Daask, Boromar, politics in general?”

Flim looks around with interest as he enters, grinning at the sight of a stuffed mindflayer. After sitting down, he says, “I’m afraid there’ll be a mention of you folks having moved in here, just because it’s really newsworthy. But even if the KC didn’t mention it, nobody wanting to find you would have any real trouble. You moved into a high society area, about as high as you can get short of Upper Central and Skyway, and you’re the only still functional adventurers in Sharn to do so. Privacy and anonymity isn’t happening for you guys. Believe me.”

“As for what’s new with Sharn, you’ve only been gone about 2 weeks, I believe, so not much. Elections took place on the 9th, as always. Daask and Boromar are still at it, with Daask making a little bit more of a push in the last 3-4 days. I’m betting they got new reinforcements in from Droaam or wherever they get them. Still, it’ll take a while before they recover to the position they were in 4-5 months ago. Nothing really new politically, other than the one big story about the Aundairan ambassador disappearing. Well, one of them. Helais ir’Lantar disappeared around the time you folks left town, give or take a day. His twin Alais has announced a big reward for any news about him. I believe they called in some serious divination help, but no good. Might be something you guys could be interested in. That’s pretty much it.”

“So,” he concludes, “What have you been up to? And yes, I do want to hear the story. The Guardian Angels leave Sharn for 2 weeks and come back with a couple of dead rakshasas? You’ve got to have something juicy for me there.”

Gareth listens with interest to the stories, making note of the key points, such as Daask’s reinforcements. He then begins recounting the highlights of the group’s recent adventures, leaving out specific information such as the location of the final battle, the loss of his paladin abilities & Kizmet, and any personal details as it relates to other group members.

“So,” he concludes, “What questions do you have?”

Flim, who has been listening with great interest, produces and flips open a notebook. “Just two. Could you cover all of that slowly? And this all goes back to that Xen’drik trip and the trouble you had afterwards, right?”

As he speaks, he is scribbling very fast in some form of shorthand, not even bothering to look down at the pad. “You people really do have the best adventures. This could make a great series of stories, you know.” The gnome stops for a moment, thinks for a bit, and then says, “Actually, I do have another question. Would you consider letting us turn your adventures into a regular column in the Chronicle?”

Gareth replies, “Yes, this all relates back to the Xen’drik trip, and the reason I can tell you so much is because it is over. That is also one of the reasons I cannot agree to a ‘regular column’.” Gareth pauses for a second “For one, our stories are inconsistent in their timing; we do not know when our next holy quest will be – it may be tomorrow or it may never happen.”

“You guys only doing holy quests now?” interrupts Flim. “I thought the rest weren’t as devout as you are.”

Gareth says, with a serious and matter-of-fact tone, “All quests that are just and serve the greater good are holy quests. Anyway, as I was saying, the second, and my most important, consideration is the security factor. We cannot always give you all the details to a story, because it may hurt someone or hinder our quest. We give you what we can, and our relationship asks that you respect that – otherwise we could not have this kind of relationship.” Gareth pauses for another moment. “The last thing is – it has to be a two way street. I am not giving you this information to be famous. Frankly, if you never posted our names or faces we would be happy with this. We are doing it so that, one, the stories will be correct, and two, so you can help us when we need it.”

“That’s not a problem,” says Flim quickly. “I’m thinking of something like a weekly column, and from what you’ve told me, the Xen’drik trip itself would fill up a good three or four columns. With everything that happened after that, we’d already have enough material for a couple of months.”

“And you don’t have to worry about covering everything. It’s not like we’d actually have the space to devote to a detailed coverage of everything you did, or do, so there’d be a lot to leave out anyway. Omitting specifically what you want left out will be just fine.”

“And as far as it being a two way street – absolutely. While the KC couldn’t get materially involved with what you do, I can always pass along a little information that matters to what you’re dealing with. If that leads to more and better stories, the editor would have no problems with it. And in your line of work, information is always handy, I know. Plus, the Chronicle is run by the Library of Zilargo, which is the best collection of knowledge on the continent bar none. Even the University of Wynarn, leave alone Morgrave University here in Sharn, is way behind. So I can also get reliable people back in Zilargo to dig up information on things you need, in return for being allowed to write on what you’re doing. Whatever you’re fine with the public hearing, of course.”

“So - does that sound better?”

Gareth listens carefully and then says, “Everything sounds good. Again, as long as you can respect an answer of ‘we can’t tell you, and please don’t dig this particular bit up’ then we can work together. My main concern is the safety of innocents.”

“Excellent!” says Flim. “I’ll talk to the editor and get back to you about it.” The gnome reporter takes his leave quickly, saying that he will stop by in a few days, once he has some idea of how the subject of the Angels’ adventures will be handled in the Chronicle.


*GARETH & THE ARCHIEROPHANT:*

Two days after Gareth met her, an acolyte delivers a message from the Archierophant asking him to see her the next day in the morning. When Gareth arrives, he is shown into her office where, as usual, she is seated at her desk in full armor. 

“Ah, Gareth,” she says, with a smile, “Sit down.”

Once he is seated, she continues, “I have good news for you, as well as …potentially … good news. First, to the good news – I have _commune_d with the Silver Flame. Your father’s spirit is part of the Flame now. He is at peace, forever beyond the reach of Dolurrh or any evil.”

Upon hearing the news, Gareth’s face lights up. “Thank you. That is the best news I could hear. It alleviates a lot of worries for me.” He closes his eyes and breathes both a sigh of relief and a quick prayer, before reopening them. “What is the other news?”

Ythana nods and says dryly, with just a hint of humor, “Yes, finding out that they do not have to go to Dolurrh often does alleviate many worries for people.” She continues crisply, “As for the other news - it is more information than news, actually, and a possibility for you to consider. Tell me, have you heard of Flamekeeper Jalus Baine?” 

When Gareth says that he has not, Ythana continues, “I am not surprised. Over 500 years ago, he led a group of the faithful into the depths of Sharn on a mighty task. In those days, when the light of the Flame was still relatively new to Khorvaire, the Dark Six were often worshipped openly, and temples to them were built in hidden places. When Sharn was built, an enormous temple to the Dark Six was constructed beneath the city.” The distaste in her tone is evident.

Gareth empathizes and nods along with Ythanna’s story, surprised that he has not heard of this person, considering that he has studied the history of the Flame well enough even if he was educated about it by his family.

Ythana continues, “Jalus Baine was one of the finest and holiest of templars, and he would not let this darkness lurk in the depths of the city. So he collected a force and traveled to the temple, where they exterminated the worshippers and razed it to the ground. The surviving worshippers of the temple fled to a dark sanctuary they had, where they brought forth an evil force, which would have slain our people and then taken the people of Sharn. After a mighty battle, Jalus called on the Flame and sacrificed himself to destroy them. As he wished, his remaining templars buried him there, on his field of victory.”

“I have pieced together this information over years, since the records of the time are fragmented and unreliable. I now believe that I know the general location where Jalus rests.” 

She leans forward and says, “What I would like you to do is travel there and recover his remains, so that they can be enshrined as they deserve. Not only would that be an especially appropriate quest for a champion of the Flame like yourself, but I believe you will be very interested in something that I believe was buried with Jalus. The records provide no details, but they say that Jalus wielded a holy sword known as the Endless Blade. I cannot think of anyone in Sharn in whose hands I would rather see such a blade than yours.” She falls silent, clearly waiting for a response.

Gareth replies quickly. “I would have gone on this holy quest even if you did not mention this most holy of weapons, and I will do this. You honor me by saying I am a worthy champion of the flame, but at this moment, I feel that I am not worthy to even bear a symbol, let alone a weapon that belonged to such a hero.” Thinking for a brief second, he adds, “I will speak to my comrades, and ask them to come with me – whether they do or don’t matters not to my decision, but I think I would need them. Please, let me know all the details that you can. Whatever you think I may expect to encounter ... undead, priests, demons, evil outsiders, or all of the above.”

Ythana looks at Gareth and says, with complete seriousness, “I think you’re underestimating yourself, Gareth. What you have done recently was a mighty task, and the Flame sees fit to grant you both the powers of a cleric and an Exorcist. That is not lightly granted.”

She continues, her voice turning slightly sympathetic, “I understand that you are distraught by the loss of your paladinhood ... or rather, the powers of a paladin, but as you know, that was no fault of yours, but rather the manipulations of a demon. Do not blame or consider yourself the lesser for it. If you are to become a paladin again, the Flame will allow it when it chooses. And if not, remember, the path of the paladin is a holy one, but it is not the only creditable one in the service of the Flame.” As she speaks, Gareth remembers that Ythana herself is high in the service of the Flame, but is not a paladin herself.

“Still,” she says, “Your humility does you credit. As for your friends, while I appreciate your resolve, I hope they will accompany you. The depths are not a safe place, and who knows if anything of the evil Jalus died to destroy has remained. It is difficult to be sure, because the records are so old and fragmentary. Even details about Jalus himself are very limited. As I said, all I know of his sword is its name and that it was a holy weapon.”

Ythana leans back and steeples her fingers, while considering something silently. Then she says, “Give me a week. I will see again what I can decipher about the event and about what it was they fought. I also need to find a reliable guide for you, since it is a large area, somewhere within which I believe Jalus was interred. You will need to do some searching. Also, I will cast a divination or two to try and find guidance for you.”

“Again, I am pleased that you have agreed, but then I expected you would. Is there anything else you would like me to do or any questions you have?”

Gareth shakes his head. “I have no other questions that I can think of. I am sure this holy quest is incredibly dangerous, otherwise you would probably send others. And I am sure my companions will come. While many of my group members say they prefer to do nothing, they also get incredibly bored.” Pausing for a second, he adds, “Besides, I have a feeling we will get in trouble with some evil group or other and will need to leave Sharn for a little bit. That seems to happen to us a great deal.” Pausing again, and thinking of Lalia, he adds quietly, “Though there are things that I miss terribly when I must leave.”

“Actually,” he continues, “I do have one request. When you find this guide, I would also like to run an interview with him under magical scrutiny. The places we are going to are difficult and we not only need more powerful guides who can withstand the rigors we undergo, but ones we can trust.”

“Certainly,” replies Ythana. “I am thinking of this more from the point of view of someone who can lead you into the general area of the Depths I believe Jalus’ resting place is, and let you do whatever exploration is needed, rather than actually doing any searching - or battle, if needed - himself, but reliability is certainly something I want to ensure. Is there anything else you wish to know or request?”

Gareth shakes his head and then rises. “As of now, I do not, Archierophant. I will speak with my group members immediately. Thank you.”

As he walks out, he suddenly feels happier than he has since the loss of Kizmet and his powers. Things are finally looking up.


----------



## Furby076

Sidekick said:
			
		

> I don't think you'd like them though...
> 
> Merry Christmas Everyone!!!




Oh trust me I love  what is going on, Shil knows it too.  It makes the character more personal, and this character is quickly becoming my most favorite (my most favorite being my first ever - but he is losing that status).

Actually, it kind of reminds of the movie "A beautiful mind"

Dr. Rosen: "Imagine if you suddenly learned that the people, the places, the moments most important to you were not gone, not dead, but worse, had never been. What kind of hell would that be? "


----------



## Solarious

shilsen said:
			
		

> Things are finally looking up.





You have no idea how much that makes me laugh. Inside, maybe, but it still made me laugh.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> You have no idea how much that makes me laugh. Inside, maybe, but it still made me laugh.




I was grinning while writing it.

And to indicate the appropriateness of the phrase you quoted, here are the details of the famous raid on the Daask drug den.

Enjoy! After all, somebody should, considering how much the PCs did not 

* * * * * * * * * * * *
The Guardian Angels, with the notable exception of Luna, stroll into Malleon’s Gate. Even without her presence, their heavily armed nature draws a lot of wary attention from the primarily goblinoid inhabitants of the district. Or perhaps it’s just the fact that they are laughing and chatting casually among themselves, with about as much wariness as one would have when traveling through the skybridges of Upper Central in the middle of the afternoon. Or at least some of them are.

“Really, Six,” says Nameless, “I think you’re not seeing the enjoyment factor here.”

The warforged, who is currently appearing as a big hobgoblin, via his _hat of disguise_ shakes his head. “I just don’t think it’s really necessary to antagonize Daask like this.”

“What antagonize?” asks Korm. “We go in there, kick some ass, and go home. No big deal.”

“Yes,” agrees Gareth. “And it’s one of their more successful drug dens, I hear, so taking it down will be a very good thing.” Just a trifle grimly, he adds, “And I could use a little exercise. After … what happened with Kizmet … I’m really going to enjoy bringing a little pain to other more deserving people. And I need to try out this longsword and shield style too, since I haven’t used one in a while. And try out this new armor.” He looks down at the exceptionally well-made armor he now wears, already adorned with symbols of the Flame.

Korm pats a pocket. “I have a few new things to try out too, except in this case it’s a spell. When I tell you guys not to stand too close to me, pay attention. I’m going to blow myself up.” The big orc chuckles to himself.

Nameless doesn’t bother to ask, having seen Korm cast a _fire seeds_ spell just before leaving the house. “And I have a couple I want to try, as well as getting more practice with this ring. Look at it this way, Six – we could either be out doing this, or be home with Luna. And she said she’s got cramps. Do _you_ want to be in the same building as Luna when she has cramps?”

Though the question is aimed at Six, all three of Nameless’ companions shake their heads in unison.

******
A few minutes later…

One of the two gnolls leaning against the wall beside the door looks up at the sound of hurried movement near the corner of the street. The small collection of goblins around the nearby rat-seller’s stand are scattering, and it takes only a second to make out the reason. 

Four figures are striding down the street as if they owned it. In the lead is a large orc, wearing a dark brown robe that leaves his muscular chest bare, the hilt of a large sword protruding over his right shoulder. Behind the orc is a tall and muscular human, his armor gleaming even in the dull light that penetrates to the smoky depths of Lower Dura, a shield strapped to one arm and a longsword at his side. Beside the human is a burly hobgoblin, in simpler armor, but wearing two, or maybe three, spiked chains wrapped around himself. 

What especially draws the gnoll’s attention – and makes his hackles stand on end – is the relatively nondescript, smaller man walking beside the orc. He wears no armor and has no obvious weapons, garbed in well-worn traveler’s clothing, but even at this distance the gnoll can see that there’s something wrong with his eyes. And his hands are moving in the gestures of what can only be a spell.

The gnoll barks a warning, causing his companion to come to full attention, battleaxe in hand, while their two goblin companions quickly raise their crossbows. Before any of them can act, however, the human speaks a string of words and a flaming bead shoots from his hands. And as it reaches the horrified watchers, it explodes into a huge sphere of flame.

The four adventurers walk over and look down at the charred bodies. Korm turns to look at the tiny charred pieces of wood hanging off the hinges, which are all that remain of the door the gnolls and goblins had been guarding. “Damn! Nice _fireball_!”

Nameless smirks and indicates his ring. “The joys of empowering a spell are mighty indeed.”

Gareth, peering into the chamber that Nameless’ spell expanded into after blowing the door off, says, “You cleaned this one out too.” He walks in, followed by Korm and Nameless, while Six takes up position at the door, looking up and down the street. The cries and sight of fleeing goblinoids in either direction makes it evident that the group’s activities have been noticed. “Let’s hurry this up,” he says.

The large room inside, which takes up the entire front of the building, is now a shambles. The couple of tables and the chairs around them have been reduced to smithereens, and the one large counter is badly damaged. In front of it lies a man dressed like a workman, comparatively less charred than the guards, but also very dead. A large chunk of the door is actually buried in the wall above the counter, and Korm, checking behind the counter, finds that another chunk is buried in what remains of the head of another man lying behind it. The packing crates that line one wall have taken some damage, but not that much.

As the Angels are checking out these elements, one of the two doors in the back of the room opens, and two howling gnolls charge at them. Gareth calmly steps forward, and a swing of his adamantine blade leaves one gnoll holding a short stick instead of a battleaxe. The other rushes up and swings at Korm’s bare chest, only for his axe to bounce off the magical protections layering the druid. Korm simply grins at him, as Nameless casts a quick spell, causing a twenty foot long tentacled centipede to appear and bite deeply into the shocked gnoll’s shoulder.

There is a howl of fear and the door the gnolls emerged from is hastily shut, followed quickly by the sound of a grating or portcullis being slammed shut behind it. Five seconds later, one of the gnolls is dead and the other is gibbering in fear and begging to be allowed to live in exchange for information. The answer it receives is “Shut up and don’t get in the way,” as the Angels continue inwards, or at least the three of them besides Six, who remains at the door.

Nameless steps up and fires another empowered _resonating bolt_ of sonic energy, which blasts apart the door the gnolls came through. It reveals the broad metal and wood bars of a portcullis behind the door and a large antechamber beyond it, and continues on through the spaces between them to also blast through another door about fifteen feet away on the far side of the antechamber. 

As the sounds of the explosion clear, everyone can hear the sounds of multiple gnoll voices, shouting and arguing loudly, fear very evident in them. Trying vainly to shout over the voices is a thinner one, in Common – “Stop shouting! Get in formation, dammit! They’ll be here any moment!” 

One of the gnoll voices switches to accented Common and shouts, “It’s them! The four crazy bastards! I know them! We’re all going to die!” This causes the other voice to switch to insults and dire threats, and also draws broad smiles from Korm, Gareth and Nameless. “Hey, they know us!”

Korm chops apart the barrier with his sword, its meteoric iron reducing the portcullis quickly to nothing. As he finishes, he hears stealthy movement behind the next door. “You guys go this way – and I’ll handle these ones,” he says, as he moves over to stand before it.

Gareth and Nameless comply, strolling casually into the back room where all the voices came from. As they pass through the chamber in between, they see doors to either side, much like they had in the last drug den they attacked, but ignore them, secure in their power. The huge centipede slithers ahead of its master, following Nameless’ commands.

The room they enter is a long one, almost as large as the entrance chamber, but a little shorter. A small curtained doorway is at the far end, and a robed goblin stands in front of it, yelling orders to the six gnolls, three with battleaxes and three with longbows, which stand between it and the entrance the Angels come through. “There! Kill the…,” begins the goblin, but never finishes the sentence.

Nameless stops in the doorway and casts a spell, sending a green ray of coruscating energy into its chest, and there is only a whiff of dust as the goblin is _disintegrate_d, its robes and other belongings falling in a neat pile on the floor. “Hello everybody,” says Nameless with a bright smile.

“Everything okay in there?” yells Six, still at the doorway of the building. 

“Yes,” shouts back Gareth with a smile, twirling his sword in anticipation as he steps forward. “We’re peachy!”

Korm, waiting quietly in front of the other doorway, reaches into his pocket and produces a handful of holly berries. He holds them out in front of him and grins in anticipation. _This is going to be such fun!_

And that, precisely, is the moment when things start to go very, very wrong.

The axe-wielding gnolls, facing Gareth and the huge centipede, scream in a mixture of rage and fury and charge. The centipede snaps its jaws shut around one’s shoulder, while Gareth slashes one across the chest. To his surprise, the gnoll does not go down, but snarls and brings its axe down to impact painfully on his armor. The other two bury their axes deep into the centipede’s side.

Even as the axes are hitting, the archers shoot, and both Gareth and Nameless shudder as they feel the pain of _human-bane_ arrows striking home. _Damn! Should have remembered they carry these!_

To round things off, one of the doors Nameless and Gareth ignored is wrenched open, and a roaring ogre emerges. Its greatsword smashes into the startled mage’s side, slamming him against the wall, only failing to drop him because of the enchantments he has been permanently blessed with as a result of the battle with the rakshasas. Behind it Nameless can see another ogre in the doorway, evidently the one who opened the door for its companion.

Six, unable to see into the room, but seeing the ogre emerge and smash Nameless, shouts, “Damn! Get your asses out of here!”

Gareth, just as startled at the appearance of the ogre, yells back, “Stop shouting advice and get in here and help!”

Korm, unsure exactly what’s going on, but certain that something is wrong, glares at the door in front of him and wonders why it hasn’t opened yet. He places his ear to it and hears some muffled words, and closer at hand, the sounds of multiple people drinking something. _Crap! They’re drinking potions!_ He hastily grabs at his sword to hack at the door.

Inside the other room, even as more arrows hit them, Gareth hurries to interpose himself between Nameless and the ogre. Calling on the Flame for aid, he lands a powerful blow, which only seems to infuriate his enemy.

Behind him Nameless, badly wounded and rendered unusually panicky by the sudden shift of the enjoyable little exercise session into a very deadly scenario, hurriedly _dimension door_s himself to the main chamber. Just a second too late, he realizes that he should have brought along a passenger. “Gareth!” he yells, “Get out!”

“And how the hell do I do that?” shouts Gareth, as the ogre between him and the main chamber is now joined by its companion. One greatsword blow almost caves in his shield and the following one launches him backwards across the chamber to land flat on his back, right in the middle of the gnolls. 

“Guys! I’m in trouble!” shouts Gareth, before hastily rolling out of the way of an axe and casting a spell. He draws down a blast of holy power to smite his enemies, and though it doesn’t kill any of them, it renders half of them temporarily blind. 

“Six! Get in there!” yells Korm, as he hacks at the door in front of him. A couple of blows shatters it to pieces, revealing a corridor occupied by many more enemies. Two more axe-wielding gnolls stand in front of him, with two more archers fifteen feet behind them. Standing behind the archers is what seems to be a human, but it is difficult to say due to his hooded cloak.

“Fine!” grumbles Six, muttering, “I never wanted to do this,” under his breath and leaping forward. His chain licks out and slashes into the back of one of the ogres, both of whom are focused on the other room and Gareth. As his surprised target cries out, Six leaps back out of range.

Behind him, Nameless yells an order to the centipede to find another exit, and the creature tries to comply. As it heads for the curtained doorway, two axes bury themselves in its skull and it shudders, and then fades away.

But the time it buys Gareth is invaluable, as is the spell Nameless uses to _slow_ the ogres. As they ponderously turn to try and attack Six, Gareth rises and rushes between them as fast as he can. The sighted gnolls howl, now in a combination of relief and blood-lust, and follow.

Korm, meanwhile, has problems of his own. The gnolls fling down the potion bottles they had just drunk from and attack as soon as he smashes the door, and though the axes bounce off his magical protections, a couple of arrows hit. Luckily for him, the gnolls do not possess _orc-bane_ arrows, but the magical _frost_ that tips them still hurts.

With an anticipatory grin, he extends the holly berries and pronounces a command, causing them to explode in an incredible burst of flame*. Warded by a protection he cast before the group launched the attack, he is unscathed, but the gnolls next to him are engulfed in flame. As they scream and try to dodge the explosion, Korm smiles. And then curses as they remain on their feet, though incredibly burned and clearly on the verge of death.**

As more axes and arrows hit home, Korm angrily backs away and blasts them to death with a _flame strike_, also wounding the archers. The robed man, however, remains unscathed, and he hurls a small object.

Korm dodges away, but the man is aiming for the ground behind him. As the _bead of force_ hits, it explodes, blasting all of the Angels. A globe of force attempts to envelop Korm but he barely dodges aside. Nameless, already badly wounded, slumps to the floor, unconscious and dying.

Korm, Six and Gareth attempt to fight back as the remaining eight gnolls, the two ogres and the spellcaster advance into the room, but it’s clearly a losing battle. One of the ogres cuts Gareth down, and though Korm decapitates it a moment later, a _lightning bolt_ from the spellcaster badly wounds him in turn.

Six and Korm are driven back, until they are outside in the street, facing the multiple enemies. Though the remaining ogre and the spellcaster are almost completely unhurt, the gnolls are all badly wounded, and Korm prepares to unleash an _arc of lightning_ that he hopes will take advantage of the crowded conditions to slay most of the them. 

But before he can do so, the enemy spellcaster says something to the gnolls. Immediately, two of the archers lower their bows, placing an arrow each at the unconscious Gareth’s and Nameless’ skulls and drawing back. 

“Your friends,” says the spellcaster calmly, “Are dead if you make a hostile move. You cannot win. Drop your weapons and surrender – or they die.”

Six and Korm exchange glances. And then, without a word, Six turns and runs down the street. 

Korm’s jaw sags open as he goes, “Whuh?!” He looks at the rapidly retreating Six, back at the enemies, and back at Six. And then he turns and follows as quickly as he can, leaving Nameless and Gareth in the hands of Daask.


* 140 pts of damage to anything within 5 ft. _Fire seeds_ is nasty!
** Both saved for 70 pts of damage, and the fact that they were raging and Korm had just given them enough time to drink potions of Bear’s Endurance meant they had 72 hp before the blast


----------



## shilsen

*The ‘Rescue’…*

Korm and Six speed away from the Daask drug den as fast at they can run, followed by the laughter and jeers of the people (primarily goblinoids) who have gathered at a safe distance to see what was going on. 

The two hurry down a couple of streets, and then come to a halt, so that Korm can produce a potion and swallow it. This heals his wounds enough that he can come out of his berserker state without keeling over, but it does leave him fatigued from the exertion. Having done so, he suggests that Six stay behind keep an eye on the place, in case Daask move Gareth and Nameless, while he goes to fetch Luna.

As Korm is explaining the plan, the two see a few goblinoids peering around the end of the road, pointing at them. They’re fairly sure some of them are laughing. Korm shakes his head in disgust, concentrates and two large hawk wings spring from his back. With a growl at the goblinoids, he springs into the air.

The watching goblinoids’ eyes go wide, and most quickly duck back around the corner, while a couple crouch reflexively and stare in fascination as Korm takes to the sky. His ascent is evidently noted by others too, with cries of alarm and fascination ringing out. From a tower window nearby, a small goblin child shouts, “Mamma! Mamma! Come see the ugly bird!”

Whether a similar error be the reason or not, as Korm flaps his wings to gain altitude, a couple of crossbow bolts come shooting up at an angle, only to bounce of his layers of magical protection. Looking down in that direction, he sees a group of four armored hobgoblins heading down the adjoining street. They are only a few dozen feet from the corner, around which is the street Six is on. Two, with crossbows, have stopped to shoot at him, while the other two are moving towards the corner.

Six, down on the ground, cannot see who or what shot at Korm, but he clearly hears the sound of crossbows and sees the bolts bounce off Korm. He instantly realizes that the shooters were around the corner, which is about fifty feet from where he stands. 

The warforged hurries in the opposite direction and makes it around the next corner unmolested. Glancing back, he sees two armored hobgoblins come around the corner cautiously. They look around but don’t see Six, and proceed carefully into the street, followed shortly afterwards by two crossbowmen.

With his greater speed, as well as the _hat of disguise_, Six leaves them behind and blends in easily among the goblinoids of the area. Swinging around and heading back to the drug den, he finds a small crowd of people watching the place and talking animatedly, but nobody getting really close. 

Two of the gnolls stand just outside the doorway, looking around carefully, and talking quietly among themselves. Though he cannot really make out many details inside, Six can see that neither Gareth nor Nameless lies where he fell. The corpse of the one ogre has been dragged to one side, as evidenced by his large feet sticking out. There is a significant amount of movement inside, and a few seconds later, the hooded man comes into sight as he calls the gnolls in. 

The two gnolls enter the building and the other ogre reappears for a moment, to place a large crate in front of the doorway. Others follow, and soon a makeshift barricade has been created. The pair of gnolls take up position behind it and the movement inside ceases. Six too takes up a position off in the shadows of a building some distance away and settles down to watch.

It takes a good two hours for Korm to return with an irritated Luna, who is in the shape of a hawk for added speed/maneuverability, and rejoin Six near the drug den. Along the way, Korm has explained everything to Luna about the fiasco with the attack on the drug den and been considerably berated for not being able to do anything without her along.

When they arrive and meet Six in an alley a little distance away, the warforged explains what he has seen. After some discussion, the trio comes up with an ingenious, complicated, and very likely soon to be amusing, plan. 

Luna summons a xorn and instructs it that it is to earth glide into the drug den, taking the newly purchased _portable hole_ with it, and to flip it open as soon as it was inside.

Luna then summons a huge earth elemental close to the doorway to the drug den, while Korm is casting a _barkskin_ on Six. Though she cannot communicate with it, the magic of the spell sends the creature rushing at the doorway and the barricade. As people on the street scream and flee, and howls of terror ring out from the unfortunate gnolls behind the barricade, the three remaining Angels jump into the _portable hole_. A second later, the hole goes dark, as the xorn grabs it and disappears into the ground.

Inside the _portable hole_, the three adventurers wait, cast protective spells, and hope that the xorn makes it all the way through and opens the _portable hole_ before the _summon_ spell that brought it here ends.

After approximately thirty seconds of waiting, light – and the loud sounds of a battle – appears at the top of the _portable hole_. Scrambling out as quickly as they can, the three Angels see that they are at one end of the large entrance room to the drug den. The xorn waits patiently by the _portable hole_, which it has placed on the floor and opened as instructed.

Barely ten feet away is the remnants of the barricade and four gnolls engaged in battle with the earth elemental. Make that three gnolls, since one is a flattened corpse, and even as the trio emerges from the hole, another is smashed against the wall, leaving one archer and an axe-wielding gnoll. From the looks of things, the only reason the gnolls are still alive is because the elemental is too large for the room, hunched over to fit inside and unable to attack as freely as it might. Even hunched as it is, it only fits because parts of it are melded with the floor, walls and ceiling. 

A quick glance reveals no signs of Nameless or Gareth in the areas that can be seen. The corpse of the dead ogre and the two gnolls Korm had incinerated are lying in one of the antchamber/corridors linking the entrance chamber to the rooms further inside.

The gnoll archer manages to land a shot on Luna (who isn’t in bear form yet, because it would be too tight a fit in the hole), but a round later, both of the remaining gnolls are down, under the combination of Luna’s, Six’s and Korm’s attacks, as well as the elemental’s. Two of the four gnolls seem to still be alive.

The elemental promptly stops, since there are no enemies in sight and no commands for it to follow. The three Angels hurry through the two doors and into the back rooms of the drug den. A quick search, involving the next couple of minutes (during which both elemental and xorn disappear, as the spells end), reveals no sign of Gareth and Nameless, or of the other enemies the group had fought. 

The other rooms in the drug den include a couple clearly used by the ogres and the gnolls, other rooms apparently used by humans and goblins, a large master bedroom with two beds, a storeroom, a moderately well maintained alchemist’s lab, a meeting room, a kitchen/dining room, and a large privy. Most of the place is quite dirty, but functional. Interestingly, much of it looks like it was very hastily evacuated, with open chests and boxes lying around and various things hastily tossed on the floor. There is not a single sign of any drugs on the premises.

The only living things in the place are a couple of goblins, dressed in fairly ragged clothes, ho are hiding in the back. They scream in fear as they see the three heavily armed adventurers and begin to gibber, asking not to be killed.

Six intimidates the goblins into talking by simply walking into the room, as the screaming and the growing puddles around them indicate. As soon as he asks where the others went, the goblins begin to squeak over each other in their hurry to provide information. What eventually emerges is the following:

“Bosses take them. Priest-man have them tied up and gagged first. Then he get the ogre and the other gnolls to take away all the shinies and the magic drinking stuff and your friends. They go down secret tunnel. Priest-man tell four gnolls to stay guard in case Boromar come, and say he be back sometime to check. Gnolls not happy but have to stay. Us also have to stay. Us tell you everything. Us show you everything. Please not kill us. Us very nice. Us clean room and cook for you. Please not kill us. Squeak, squeak, whine, cry, widdle.”

As promised, the goblins show the trio that there is a well-concealed trapdoor, large enough to let an ogre pass through, in the antechamber right outside the ogres’ room. Beneath it, a large, sturdy ladder leads down a dozen feet to one end of a very crudely carved tunnel that leads off toward the southeast.

A search of the rooms also leads to Six finding a couple of hidden panels, one in the main bedroom and one in the side of the meeting room. Both are empty, but the latter has a smashed vial in the corner, with a small pool of liquid. It seems to be dreamlily, a popular drug in Sharn.

Korm and Luna each summon a _phantom stag_ and have the creatures precede them down the tunnel, with the trio following. The tunnel twists and turns, but seems to continue in a southeasterly direction. It also seems to be descending at a shallow rate. 

After a few minutes of traveling, the _phantom stag_s enter a larger cavern, even as torchlight appears at the far end, about sixty feet away. The light reveals half a dozen gnolls, along with four goblins, and an ogre. There is also a cloaked human, who resembles the spellcaster from the battle in the drug den, but it is difficult to be sure.

It is the last who quickly throws up his hands, stopping his allies, who are raising weapons, and shouts, “Stop! Don’t attack! If you want your friends back, you will speak to me.”

Six stops and says, “Luna – no _flame strike_s! Yet.”

The man takes a step forward, when it seems that hostilities are not commencing instantly, and says, “Your companions are safe and alive. We have spoken with them and they have agreed to call a truce with Daask for six months, in return for being allowed to leave alive and unharmed. We want no trouble with you and simply want to stop these attacks on our establishments. If we had killed them, you would want vengeance, and that is something we do not need. In fact, as we speak, they are being returned unharmed, to another location from which they can return to your home.”

The man stops, as if realizing something. Slowly, he says, “I presume your presence here means that you killed our remaining people above.” There is an immediate growl from some of the gnolls, but he motions for them to be quiet. “It is unfortunate, but you couldn’t realize that we were reaching an understanding with your friends.”

“Please, leave now. Your friends, as I said, are safe and likely waiting for you.”

The three adventurers exchange glances. The man sounds sincere. Six sighs and then says, “All right. We will leave, but if this is a trick we will be back. And this time, with serious backup. Now I have a request. I would like to speak with your leaders. How can I send them a message?”

The man looks genuinely surprised. He thinks for a moment and then says, “You know where this place is, so it’s as good an option as any. We’ll make sure that they know you’re not to be harmed. That’s already a given, now that your friends have promised that you will not harm us, of course. Leave a message here and it’ll get through. We’ll send a reply to your house.” 

He pauses, looks at the trio quizzically, and asks, “Could you tell me what you’d like to speak to them about?”

“Nothing right now,” says Six. “In a few days I may want to talk business.”

And then the discussion is interrupted by a yell from the rear.


----------



## shilsen

Six has been added to the Rogues Gallery here.

And now, going back a little in time, to see what actually happened to Gareth and Nameless:

* * * * * *
*In the Hands of Daask*
Earlier…

The first thing Gareth and Nameless are aware of is the sensation of having unseen people holding them down while someone forces a thick, incredibly smelly, bitter liquid down their throats. Unfortunately, being blindfolded, near naked, and still groggy from their wounds, which apparently have been tended only enough to keep them alive, there is no way to resist short of letting the person drown them with the liquid. In fact, struggle or not, the process itself is enough to send them back into unconsciousness, the last memory being the nauseating feeling of the liquid burning down their throats.

The next time they awake, it is less painful. It is to the warmth of healing magic, if a limited amount, closing their wounds and bringing them back to reality. It is a painful one, accompanied by a churning in their gut as if they had eaten – or drunk – something that disagreed very strongly with them. They open their eyes to see they are sitting in a dark room, lit dimly by a lantern, in a pair of chairs. Both Nameless and Gareth are tied to their respective seats, with hands pinioned to the armrests, and are dressed in only their underclothes. From the corners of their eyes, they can make out that a pair of people – or creatures – stands behind and beside each of them. Even if they could not see them, the cold feeling of steel pressed to the back of their necks would be unmistakable. 

Across the table from them, mostly shrouded in shadow, is a humanoid figure. Nameless is unable to see her features, but Gareth, able to see in the dark, sees that she is a human woman, perhaps in her early thirties. Her long hair hangs open, framing a strong, rather than attractive, face. Behind the woman stands a figure that even in the shadows that make vision difficult for Nameless, is clearly a minotaur, and a particularly muscular one. Gareth, able to make out more details, thinks that he is very likely the one they saw in Shamukaar, the Daask lieutenant called Torarg Blackhorn.

An elderly human stands between Gareth and Nameless, and he removes his hands from their shoulders. He looks at the woman and says, “They are healed. But not too much.” The woman nods and he turns away, heading towards a door to the right of the two prisoners. As he opens and steps through it, there is a glimpse of a dark hallway beyond. Gareth also notices the holy symbol hanging openly on his chest. It is the black, twisted symbol of the Mockery, the deity of dark magic and the corruption of nature.

As the door closes, the woman speaks. Her voice is smooth and pleasant. “First, let’s make one thing clear. Please don’t try to cast any spells. You’re not likely to be able to, considering your current condition, and even if you could, you’d never get it out fast enough to prevent a blade removing your head. And that would be regrettable.” She leans forward slightly, clasping her hands in front of her. “Tell me, Gareth Byron Deneith and Nameless, what do you have against Daask?”

Gareth instinctively struggles with his bonds, and asks, “Where are we located? And who are you?” He quickly realizes they put some effort into the bonds. He could break out if he had a couple of minutes of uninterrupted time to work on them. Unfortunately, that’s not the case here, as evidenced by a growl from the rear and a quick, “Don’t do that,” from the woman. She looks past Gareth and says to the two behind him, “If he tries to get out again, smack him. But no killing.”

She looks back at Gareth and smiles, though there’s little humor in it. “You are ... elsewhere from Malleon’s Gate. And I am the woman who’s asking you the questions. If you want to leave alive, and let me say now that I have no intention of hurting you if we can reach an understanding, then you will answer my questions.”

She leans forward again. “Let me explain my question a little better, so that you understand. This is the second time you have attacked a Daask establishment ... no, make that third, since you were the ones who took our payroll. Why are you so interested in attacking us? As far as I know, Daask has not bothered you in any way.”

Gareth stops struggling, and replies, “I wouldn’t say Daask has never hurt me or my friends in the past. Your guild members have stolen from us, and we never did reclaim all of our items. But a better answer to your question – what we have against Daask - your ever annoying presence in Sharn hurting those who cannot stand up to you. No better then Boromar.” He snorts, “As for not killing us, I highly doubt you will not.”

The minotaur growls angrily, but the woman waves a hand and he falls silent. “Don’t be silly,” she says, irritation clear in her voice. “If I was going to kill you, why would I be talking to you? Believe me, your coversation isn’t _that_ scintillating.”

She gives a sigh and seems to compose herself. “So this is all some great heroic effort to clean up the city? If, as you say, we are no better than the Boromars, why don’t you spread the love and go bother them somewhat? I know, I know - there is no arguing with holy crusaders, so I shouldn’t bother. According to some,” and she glances at the minotaur, “I should just kill you and be done with it.”

“But, however, and I am being completely honest here, you face me with a big problem. I could have you killed right now. But you have powerful friends. Not just the two which escaped and that druid Luna, but others you know in the city. For all I know, killing you will send them seeking revenge on us. And while I can deal with that, I would much rather not.”

Gareth interrupts, “Yes, I think a few people would be bothered if something happened to Nameless and myself, people who are above bribery.” 

The woman simply continues, “So, I have a proposition for you. I will let you go free, with all of your equipment and money returned to you, in return for a promise that you will never bother Daask again. What say you?”

She glances at Nameless. “And you, mage?”

“Can I think on your offer?” replies Gareth, sarcastically. “Wait, let me see, save myself on the promise that I never come by your way again – meaning you would have leave of the city – and me and my friends whenever you want – and you would have my promise of non-retaliation.” Gareth finally shuts up when Nameless, who has been a little groggier and responded more slowly, gives him a dirty look.

Instead of speaking directly to the woman, Nameless addresses the minotaur, using the time to collect his thoughts and asses the situation. “Ah, Torarg. We meet again, though under rather less pleasant circumstances. I take it you’re not quite as pleased with this display as you were with our last one. Shamukaar and his bar doing okay, I trust?”

The woman looks over at Torarg, whose face now bears a look of bovine confusion. “Shamukaar and the bar are...,” he begins, before switching subjects. “If I’d known the trouble you’d cause, I’d have taken care of you outside Shamukaar myself.” The tone isn’t that angry, however.

Nameless nods and then turns to the woman. “We don’t really have anything against Daask. Well, obviously Gareth is still a bit put out over his sword being stolen by some of your flunkies. But mostly it was just a slow day and we had some new toys to try out. Your drug den was convenient and unlikely to be missed. If you can point us towards some Boromar drug dens that would be appreciated. They don’t seem to be quite as blatant about these things as you do.”

“I must say though, I was really very impressed with the effectiveness of your defenses and troops. You must follow the hobgoblin maxim that troops should fear being eaten by their officers more than they fear their enemies.”

“As for promising to leave you alone forever, obviously that’s not a possibility for my friend here. But we could negotiate a temporary truce, for say 6 months or so. Many of my companions are easily distracted by other things and we may find other things to occupy our time.” 

“I am guessing however, that this would be insufficient to persuade you to let us go. So perhaps we can scratch your back as well. If you have a Boromar target you’d like destroyed. Nothing ambiguous, mind you, my comrade here doesn’t deal well with ambiguity. Someplace chock full of nicely black-hearted Boromars engaged in some sort of socially reprehensible activities. Destruction is what we are best at after all, recent slipups aside.”

The woman listens intently, and then a slow grin crosses her face. “I’d heard that you were a strange man, who summons weird monsters, but I’ll give you this – you’re smart.” She looks at Gareth and says, “You could learn some diplomacy from this guy.”

She turns back to Nameless, and says dryly, “Honored as I am to know that we were chosen as a convenient place to try out your new toys, avoiding that is in my best interests, and presumably avoiding death is in yours.” Her eyes flicker to Gareth, and back again.

“As you say, we can look after ourselves, and better than the Boromars can against such as you. Still, you’ve done a lot of damage to us, and since killing you would just lead to more, I’d like to avoid it. A pity that you can’t promise to leave us be, but even a truce of 6 months would be very preferable to the current situation.”

She grins. “And a truce during which you can bother the Boromars would be eminently preferable. I can easily suggest a few places – and ways – you can hurt them. Their establishments are only less blatant than ours in that they’re often dealing with a ... better class of client.” Her tone makes it clear that she isn’t using ‘better’ as a compliment. 

“I can promise you this. If you do not attack a Daask establishment or member for 6 months, I will ensure that we will not bother any of you.” She glances at Gareth and says, “Other than to offend your sensibilities, but that can’t be helped. So – do we have an understanding? I suggest you listen to your friend here.” She indicates Nameless with a nod.

Gareth, chafing at this conversation, ignores her for a moment while looking at the minotaur. “Ah, my old friend, we should have a drink and talk about old times. There is a lot of information about the lower areas of Sharn that we could use.” Half expecting a blow to the head, he adds, “I guess you do not drink alcohol anymore. That is fine.” 

Torarg again looks a little confused, as if unsure what to say. He finally settles for a shake of his massive head and a comment of “You are strange.”

Gareth looks back at the woman. “So, would you please explain the details – how would this exactly work?”

Hiding her irritation with little success, she replies, “Very simple, actually. You agree, as Nameless here said, not to attack any Daask members or outposts for six months, and in return, I release you, alive and unharmed with all belongings intact, and make sure that no Daask members attack you five – I believe it’s five – personally. Simple, as I said.”

“Those terms are acceptable to me. Death is so... inconvenient.” Nameless stares at her as he says this, his gaze backed by the full force of his growing insanity, which he normally does to reveal to others. 

“Then there’s the expense of coming back from the dead and it does have a way of diminishing one. There’s also the murderous rampage we’d have to go on to recover our equipment. It takes so much time... and leaves so many bodies....” He sighs. 

“We just got back into Sharn too, after chasing down and killing a pair of Rakshasas that stole something from us. We had to chase them hundreds of miles into the Demon Wastes and fighting in an active volcano is.... Well, I can bore you with war stories some other time.”

Abruptly turning to Gareth, he continues. “Gareth, when are the drapes we’re making from the Rakshasas going to be ready? Next week, was it? I forget. Moving into a new place and all that. I’m still disappointed that we lost the white one; he would really have gone well in the Solarium.”

Seeing Nameless’ tactics, Gareth plays along. “Yes, it is a shame the wall of lava burned the white one down – I told you not to have Luna push them in there. I needed a new cloak for the winter, and it would have made a wonderful present for some girl.”

The woman does not look intimidated or worried so much as slightly off-put by Nameless’ words and expressions. She listens and watches the byplay between Nameless and Gareth, and then comments, “I had been told your group was ... unusual, but you two seem especially so.” She shrugs. “Presumably an advantage in, or result of, your line of work.”

Nameless suddenly asks, “By the way approximately how long has it been since you captured us? If it’s been longer than an hour or so, I hope you won’t hold it against us.”

She smiles. “No, I don’t hold it against you – yet. And it’s not been that long since we captured you. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Nameless shrugs. “In any case, I’d been meaning to go pound some Boromar establishments. I find things run better if a certain... balance is maintained and our activities had been hurting your group, without a counterbalancing blow to them.”

Gareth nods slowly. “All right. If your group does not harass mine, and you give us locations of some Boromar outposts, I would be willing to put a truce.”

“Good. As I said, we will not harass you in any way if you leave us alone. And as for Boromar outposts, I will be very happy to give you a number of locations. You can amuse yourself with them, as you see fit.” She smiles again. “I am glad we can come to such an understanding, and....”

Even as she is speaking, Gareth attempts to _detect thoughts_ and discovers that he can only detect one mind ahead of him, even though he can clearly see both Torarg and the woman. It is as if one is immune to it or protected in some way. Gareth realizes that the one mind he detects is less intelligent than him, and surmises that it is the minotaur’s.

He then concentrates on reading Torarg’s mind. The minotaur immediately raises a hand to his head and gives an angry bellow. “One of them used magic on me, Cavallah!”

The woman identified as Cavallah rises, glaring at both Gareth and Nameless. She quickly fixes her attention on Gareth and says, to someone behind him, “Knock him out.” Immediately, Gareth feels a powerful blow to the head and everything goes black.

Cavallah looks coldly at Nameless and says, “I hope for your sake, and those of your companions, that you are smarter than this fool. Luckily, so far, you seem to be.” 

She then looks back at the guards behind Gareth, and says to one, “You can revive him now.” The guard, who Nameless can now see is a gnoll, roughly opens Gareth’s mouth and pours a potion down his throat. After a couple of seconds, his eyes flutter open. The guard steps back into position and Cavallah says, “That was _really_ stupid. Try something like that again and I will remove two of your fingers.”

Then she pauses, takes a deep breath to compose herself, reseats herself, and says, “That was unfortunate. It also leads me to believe that you don’t fully understand the depth of my seriousness. Believe me, if you lie to me, I will see you dead. And those who you hold dear in this city.” 

“You are powerful and have many resources; we both know that. But there are some things that money and power cannot help with. If you lie to me and break your word, I promise you this, I will set House Tarkanan on you. And I will ask for them to use a Keeper’s Fang.”

Gareth does not recognize House Tarkanan, and neither does Nameless, but the latter recognizes the name. 1500 years ago, there was a huge conflict across Khorvaire, where the pure dragonmarked families exterminated the holders of mixed and aberrant dragonmarks. During the War of the Mark, Lord Halas Tarkanan was a brilliant tactician who led the forces of those with aberrant dragonmarks. Despite being heavily outnumbered, he waged a long war, seizing Sharn and taking it as his capital. Finally, sheer numbers defeated him, and he and his wife (called the Lady of the Plague) released horrific magical forces, destroying much of Sharn and themselves. Only 500 years later was Sharn rebuilt. 

In view of this history, the idea of a House Tarkanan would, of course, be ludicrous. 

A Keeper’s Fang, however, they both recognize. By reputation. It is a special type of dragonshard bound weapon, which not only kills but also automatically sends the soul of the slain to the domain of the Keeper, the Sovereign Lord of Death and Decay. The victim cannot be brought back to life by any method known. No weapon is more illegal – or dangerous.  

Cavallah continues, “However good you are, none of you are immune to a dedicated assassination attempt. And neither are your friends and acquaintances. I believe the going rate to kill someone of your abilities would be 5000 galifars. It is a lot of money, but then again, the resources used in capturing you today were over that amount, and that doesn’t include the loss of a number of my soldiers, especially the elite ones. If you had completely destroyed our establishment, it would have been much much more costly to us. So, you see, it will be very much a justifiable expense.” 

“I am telling you this to underline how serious I am. You are a problem I do not want to have to deal with, and if you are willing not to bother me, I will not bother you. Now, without further foolishness, do we have a deal?”

In a severely groggy and slurred voice, Gareth mutters, “Hmm – that felt good. So I didn’t hear, since I have this ringing in my head – what is it you said?”

Cavallah, ignoring him, looks coldly at Nameless and says, “I hope for your sake, and those of your companions, that you are smarter than this fool. Luckily, so far, you seem to be.”

Nameless shakes his head sadly. “My apologies. I’ve tried to break him of this habit, but he seems incapable of learning when it comes to this. Actually, could you hit him once or twice more for me, please? I’d do it myself, but I’m kind of tied up at the moment. I wish he’d learn some manners or discretion at least. But that’s likely to be the work of several more years.”

“I have had no doubts as to your seriousness. I don’t think he does either, unfortunately he has this compulsion to try probing other people. Despite the fact that he keeps getting caught, for some reason he thinks he can get away with it. However, despite his ‘limitations’, he does honor his word once given. As do I.”

“I assure you I have no doubts as to your seriousness or ... Wait. Did you say only 5,000 galifars? That’s it? Or... do you get a volume discount? No. Never mind... that’s not important. We have a deal as far as I am concerned.” 

“Gareth, if you can stop being rude for a moment...”

Gareth looks at Nameless for a moment and wonders why he is basically telling them what Gareth did. He then says in a flat tone, “Fine, when you release us then your terms shall be met. Dying here serves no purpose and is counterproductive to the greater good.”

Cavallah listens with some amusement to Nameless’ comments and then nods as Gareth agrees. “Good. Unfortunately, you’ll have to suffer a little discomfort, since we can’t risk you seeing anything of our operation here. We will have to render you both unconscious. You’ll be revived when back above ground and will be free to go your way.”

At this point, Torarg clears his throat loudly. “Yes?” asks Cavallah, turning to him.

The minotaur steps forward and begins to whisper something to her. Due to the volume of his tones, certain snippets float across to Nameless and Gareth. “... volume of damage ... costs ... dead gnolls ... may have to be abandoned ... ogres ...”

Cavallah frowns slightly and then sighs. “Yes, you are right.” She turns back to Gareth and Nameless as Torarg steps back, and says, “As Torarg just reminded me, your actions today have caused a significant loss of resources to us, and may cause us more damage in the long term. Hence, I’m sorry to say that, to recover somewhat of damage you inflicted, we will have to retain a certain amount of your wealth.”

“Each of you, I gather, has an account at the Kundarak bank. We will take care of removing an appropriate amount from your accounts. Since you are evidently very wealthy people, the amount taken should hardly cause a problem for you.”

“Unless you would prefer me to retain some of the valuable equipment you were carrying. That’s a little less helpful to us than actual money, but I can find someone or other who would benefit from it, if not sell it outright. I would, of course, take significantly minor items.” 

“What would you prefer?”

Gareth replies coldly, “I would prefer our previous arrangement. For one, we are going to help you against Boromar – that in and of itself has a high value add. For second, your fence has cost us a lot of money in the past - thousands of gold. I would say that makes us even”

More calmly, Nameless says, “Now you’re disappointing me. I thought we had reached a deal. Is this how you live up to your end of a bargain? Nothing about the damages inflicted is new information. Furthermore, the longer you keep us here haggling over prices, the more likely our comrades are likely to start ripping apart your installations looking for us and they are going to be hitting hard and taking no chances. You did surprise us the first time around, but this time they’ll have Luna with them....”

Cavallah simply looks at the pair for the moment. Torarg begins to say something, but she waves him silent. “You have a point. Two points, actually. Not the one about the fence, however. He was a freelancer, doing business with us among others, and what he did with your items had nothing to do with us.”

“Anyway, as I said, you have a point. The original bargain it is. I wish you much success bothering the Boromars and in your travels, especially if you take them far from this city.” She pauses and then smiles, this time with real amusement. “I’m told that you might find Droaam to have a particularly bracing climate.”

Cavallah rises to her feet. “Anyhow, I hope to not have to see you ever again, and definitely not for the next six months. Goodbye.” She nods to the gnolls behind the pair and the last thing Nameless and Gareth feel is something hitting the backs of their heads.

…

When they next open their eyes, they are lying inside a large, dilapidated building, which looks like an abandoned warehouse. There is the sound of voices and movement outside, though some distance away. A quick check reveals that they are both dressed in their usual clothing, with all their equipment on them. Nothing has been removed. The only change is a folded parchment in Nameless’ hand, which contains a list of about twenty names, all of establishments and locations around the city. Some of the entries have an attached name or two, and/or a short description, such as “officially dream parlor; actually dreamlily den” or “business funded by Boromars.” 

Both Gareth and Nameless remain seriously wounded, however. Gareth uses all of his remaining magic to heal the two of them. “Now let’s get out of here.”

Emerging from the building, the pair find that it is actually an abandoned warehouse, one among a few others. The area around them contains many more warehouses, most of them active, and it is the transport of goods in and out of them that Gareth and Nameless heard from inside the building. A little checking reveals that they are in Cogsgate, in Lower Tavick’s Landing.

The two head back up to Upper Tavick’s and the group’s house up in Ocean View. The fairly bedraggled appearance of the two draws some dirty looks from passersby once they hit Upper Tavick’s and especially as they near their home, and they are stopped twice, once by Deneith guards and once by local watchmen, before being allowed to go on.

Arriving at home, they find that the other three members of the group are nowhere to be found. Signs indicate that Luna left in a hurry, so, in all likelihood, the rescue attempt is currently under way.

Gareth says to Nameless, “Guess they took too long releasing us. Ah well – I am going up to my room. I need to crash.”

Nameless waits till he leaves, casts a _cat’s grace_ and then _teleport_s back to the drug den to stop his companions.

As he casts the spell, Nameless feels the usual sense of his stomach dropping out of his shoes as he is displaced and reappears instantly 6 miles across the city. Unfortunately, since he is _teleport_ing to a place he has visited only once, his memory of it isn’t quite good enough for a perfect arrival.

When Nameless reappears, everything around him is pitch-black. It is also solid. There is a moment of surprise, followed by realization that he is inside some object, and then a tearing sensation of excruciating pain, as if shards of stone were being ripped through his internal organs, as the magic hurls him through the object towards the closest open space. 

To the horrified stare of a passing pair of goblins, Nameless emerges from the stone of the huge base of a nearby pillar, his clothes ripped and with blood trickling from myriad small wounds [OOC: 30 pts of damage]. The goblins promptly flee.

Nameless realizes, after dazedly looking around, that he is down the street and around the corner from the drug den. Hurrying to it, he finds that his companions have definitely been here. What looks like a makeshift barricade is smashed into pieces, and the corpses of four gnolls lie beyond it.

Another pair of goblins, these two in ragged clothes, are quietly trying to leave the main chamber when Nameless arrives. They take one look at him, give a shriek and fall to their knees, gabbling in goblin as fast as they can about how happy they are to see him alive, how they never did anything to him, how his friends are looking for him down the hole, and how they’d really really appreciate it if he didn’t kill them.

Nameless barely stops to guzzle a healing potion, correct the goblins’ grammar, and _fly_ down the hole. After a minute or so of flying as fast as he can through the winding tunnel, he sees lights ahead and recognizes his companions’ voices, evidently speaking to someone. Nameless yells a warning that he’s coming and that they shouldn’t kill anyone, and flies up to join them.

Luckily, neither Luna nor the gnolls respond precipitously to the sound. Once Nameless reaches them, with him to corroborate the cloaked man’s story, the discussion ends quickly. The Angels return through the tunnels to the battered drug den and leaving. The Daask members follow, keeping a fair distance between them, evidently intending to restore the operation once the adventurers are gone.


----------



## shilsen

*Back at the Gray House - A Meeting of the Minds (handled over email and via forums):*

Once they are back at the Gray House, after Nameless gives the others a quick synopsis of what happened, everybody heads off to do various things, Luna muttering something about “never sending a man to do a woman’s job” as she leaves. Six, wanting to find out more about Daask and the criminal situation in Sharn, decides to visit Balan and ask about it. The Warden tells him that Daask has probably been around for over 10 years, slowly building power in the Cogs, but they really burst into prominence and started seriously opposing the Boromars from 2 years ago. While the Boromars focus on smuggling, gambling, thieving, and extortion, and also have money in a huge number of legitimate businesses, Daask is focused on physical violence, with muggings, armed robbery, assassination and protection rackets being their stock in trade. They are, however, also interested in the drug business, and are the only known source of dragon’s blood, the most costly drug in Sharn.

Daask’s center of power is in Khyber’s Gate, the central one of Sharn’s three Cogs districts under the city, which has traditionally been the haven for fugitives and criminal elements. Unlike the other two Cogs districts (Ashblack and Blackbones), Khyber’s Gate has no presence from the law and no legal representative on the Council, and is never going to, unless someone were able to clean the entire thing up, which is effectively impossible.

Daask also has some power in some of the lower districts of Sharn, especially Malleon’s Gate (the goblinoid district) in Lower Dura, but they mostly just launch raids into some of these areas rather than actually holding property.

Six also asks Balan about House Tarkanan. Balan says that House Tarkanan is fairly well known in the Sharn underworld. It’s known to be a small order of highly skilled assassins and thieves. They appeared in Sharn six years ago, at which point the Boromars tried to assimilate and, failing that, eliminate them. Neither worked and the Boromars backed down, allowing House Tarkanan to exist on the condition that they never target any Boromars.

House Tarkanan is known to provide three services - theft, assassination and manslaughter. They are known to never target high-ranking members of the 3 major criminal organizations in Sharn - Boromar, Daask, and the Tyrants (a guild of shapeshifters who are rumored to control most of the Sharn bordellos and also deal in all sorts of information). 

Six also asks Balan if he knows any people who are both reliable and capable of finding out things in the Sharn underworld, since he would be interested in employing someone of that nature. After some thought, Balan says he might know someone, and will send him to Six.

The next day, Nameless and Gareth give the others a very detailed coverage of what happened with them and what they were told.

Once they are done, Six says emphatically, “I am not going to mess with any Boromar outposts or operations. Nor am I going to explain why this is so.” He goes on to explain what he learned from Balan about House Tarkanan.

Gareth looks at him quizzically. “And since any deals you perform affect us in one way or another due to our close association, I must insist for the group to know what you have with Boromar that you will not do anything to harm them – since this was not an issue in the past.” 

Addressing the rest of the group, he says, “While House Tarkanan may be an issue, I would not lose sleep over them. Yes, they could send assassins, but yes, we are also quite powerful - and if you doubt my words – think of those fur rugs that we will soon have and think again. Do not fear a group of people because they perform a dirty job or have skill at it – we are no longer the novice group we were when we first met. I also think, with our last experience, we will not take for granted the awesome powers we do have at our control.”

“Also, I have spoken to the Archeirophant, and there is a quest she would like for me to perform. A retrieval quest and I have accepted this. I would like – and need – for all of you to join me. It is to retrieve the remains of a long since dead hero of the Silver Flame. His body deserves a proper burial. If you require payment for these services then please come with me to the Archierophant. She will also explain in greater detail. I would ask, however, that you pass on payment from the church. The church has helped me on numerous occasions, and has helped the group – at no charge. To have such a valuable ally on your side,” Gareth looks at Nameless, “Even though some of the group does not like the church, is a smart thing to do.”

Nameless shrugs and says, “Fine. Not trusting the Church with an item like the Shard has nothing to do with being unwilling to do them a favor.” 

To Six, he adds, “If you have personal things you wish to keep private, that is not an issue, but if you have made alliances or deals with Boromar then that does involve us and if you insist on concealing that fact then you are breaking the trust between us.”

To Gareth’s surprise, Six suddenly changes the subject. “Gareth, since you are not and never were a paladin has it occurred to you that all of your direct experiences with paladinhood are suspect? By the whim and plans of a demon your abilities worked. Evil creatures may have not been and vice versa. Your vows, codes and actions have had no bearing on your perceived paladinhood. It’s worse than being wrong, it’s irrelevant.”

“However, you are in a unique position to find out what it means to be a paladin. Go to Cedric and use your various detection abilities while he is using some paladin ones. See if you can grab any insight as to the difference in connection to the Flame he has as opposed to you. Your perspective might be the proper distance needed to see what makes a paladin.”

A second later, Gareth is standing inches from Six’s metal face. Infuriated by Six’s comments, his words drip with unusual venom. “Your comments are out of line and have no bearing on our conversation. I have and always will be a paladin of the Silver Flame, make no mistake of that. The grace which has left me is between me and the Flame.” He pokes Six in the chest. “Never forget that. Do not attempt to judge my vows, my codes or my actions and especially my faith, since you have absolutely none.”

Six shrugs. “It’s not a judgement – it’s an observation. I don’t know what it takes to be a paladin and NEITHER DO YOU. In fact nobody we have encountered or heard about knows for sure, but you are in a unique position to find out.”

Gareth almost snarls. “A paladin is more than the grace given to him, you soulless piece of metal. You have no idea what you are speaking of. Carry this any further, and you will test my patience and my honor. Do not cross that line.” He breathes deeply for a second, trying to calm himself, and then says, “Now, what is your association with Boromar, you machine?”

Calmly, Six replies, “I have as much soul as you do and yours is not the only patience tested.” He looks around at the others. “Does anyone else have this question?”

Korm, sitting silently through this exchange, jerks a thumb at Nameless. “As he said, I don’t care about private things, but in case you have an association with the Boromars, we should know.” Luna, midway through her second breakfast, nods.

Gareth adds, having calmed down by now, “As Nameless said, this is about trust. And where the Boromars are concerned it is an issue that affects all of us – especially since we have had and will have more altercations with them. Or do you not care if they peddle their drugs to children, and harm innocents who do not do as they are told?”

Six looks as pensive as someone with an immobile face can. “We,” he says, pointing to Nameless, Korm, Luna and himself, “Are now citizens of Breland, home owners and residents of Sharn. We will not conduct vigilantism in Sharn. You,” he points to Gareth, “Are a foreign national with a nominal association to house Deneith. If you make a move against a Sharn resident, you better have a warrant issued by the proper authority. You know better than I what the penalties are for foreigners committing assault in Sharn.”

“Honestly,” he continues, “I do not like Sharn. Intrigue is a bloodsport here played by masters. I suck at it but,” clearly addressing no individual, “You are worse. This is where you have chosen to settle – fine. Disturbances we create which could have been ignored when we were visitors now will be acted upon, as our settlement provides the means and the need for retaliation. And before you go on about how ‘powerful’ you are, does that apply to the people you know? Or do you care not about people you know or might know,” he looks at Luna. “And don’t think I only refer to death as a retribution; think creatively the gnomes will. It’s time to follow the dictum…,” he pulls out a notepad and locates a line, “Don’t  where you eat.”

There is a moment of stunned silence and then Luna begins to laugh. “I’ll say one thing – that little connection to the Flame made you way smarter in a funny way.” Korm and Nameless also laugh, but Gareth doesn’t.

At this very timely moment, there is a knock on the door. Gareth opens it to find a liveried halfling messenger with a sealed envelope. Returning to the others, he opens the letter within, which says...

“To the members of the Guardian Angels:

You are cordially invited to dinner with Saidan Boromar and Mala Boromar d’Jorasco. 

Please bring this invitation with you.”

The letter is signed “Saidan Boromar”. It contains directions to the Boromar estate in the Little Plains district of Middle Menthis. The invitation is for the next day. 

The Angels immediately recognize the name. Saidan Boromar is the current patriarch of the Boromar clan and Mala is his wife, mother to Ilyra Boromar, who is on the City Council. Saidan is also one of the richest men in Sharn and a member of the Sixty Families (the richest and best-connected families in the city).

Six shakes his head as he reads the letter. “Well, it begins – the true price of Sharn citizenship. I think I will actually have to buy some clothing.” 

He turns to walk out the door, but is stopped by Gareth. “Hold on Six – you have yet to explain your reasons – and is this letter part of it? What have you gotten us into? What is your association with Boromar? Just walking away and acting like nothing is going on is rude, but an association like this breaks a lot of trust we have developed in our travels and on the field of battle”.

Irritatedly, Six replies, “What part of ‘Masters of the Game’ don’t you understand? I didn’t start anything. WE DID when we walked into Sharn and said ‘hello.’ I’ll make it plain and hopefully you will understand. We are residents of Sharn, subject to the rulings of the City Council. Boromar is one of the movers and shakers and they have at least one seat on the Council. Now, listen closely – this makes us subject to the influence of Boromar and puts them, from our perspective, more in the ‘good guy’ column as they and we have an interest in the continued fortunes of Sharn.” 

“If you have a problem with how things are done in Sharn, then leave, and I’ll be right behind you. But don’t think your lens of conduct is going to work here. Sharn is little Zilargo, except nastier.”

Gareth scowls and replies sarcastically. “You use quite some big terms there – ‘Masters of the Game’. And I’m sure that your many years of existence and skills in the ways of diplomacy and politics as well as law really gives you a superior advantage. Now, through all that you have still not told me what your association with the Boromars is. What meetings and deals – or understandings – have you made with them? Are they related to this invitation?” 

Gareth waves the invitation and then continues, trying to speak more politely and persuasively, “Which we will have to take, though I loathe it, in order to maintain a semblance of diplomacy. Answer the questions directly and fairly, Six. I am not singling you out and you know I have done the same to Nameless in the past. As for the attitude of sticking with the status quo or leaving, I think not. If I do not like how something is done I will work to change it – and I have seen you do the same. Or do you like children being worked as slaves, while their siblings are high on some kind of drug that was peddled to them? Answer my questions plainly, and let us be done with this argument.”

Six, still irritated, replies, “I already have, you poor simple rube. What part of ‘Boromar Council member of City I am a citizen of’ don’t you understand? If you want to act on the Boromars, get a warrant.”

Gareth grits his teeth but keeps his temper. ““Do not continue with this line of insults. Citizens of this city do not simply get invited to these kind of events. Not to mention you just became a citizen and you only did so because you wanted to buy a residence. What is the real reason? Are your loyalties to Boromar or to this group who you have shed blood with?”

Also getting irritated with this continuing, and fruitless, back-and-forth, Nameless intercedes. “I think you misunderstand Six, Gareth. He’s saying that by setting down roots in Sharn we have made ourselves vulnerable to the politics and machinations of the power brokers. Whereas once we were free to leave should the situation turn hostile, we now are citizens subject to laws and the possessors of property that won’t fit in a backpack or even a _portable hole_.”

“Also he’s trying to make the point that the Boromars are part of the power structure of Sharn, so if we attack them we risk bringing the wrath of that power down on us. Especially if we do it in an open and obvious manner. We are not anonymous figures easily lost in a crowd any more.” 

“Also, I doubt if Six cares much what us squishy, fleshy types do to each other or to children. Remember he cannot have children and Warforged do not reproduce; those imperatives of flesh are absent in him. So berating him over such things is pointless. You might as well rail at a tree over its indifference to the fates of birds that shelter in its leaves.”

For once, a look of relief crosses Gareth’s face as Nameless speaks, and he says to Six, “If Nameless’s message is what you were trying to convey then I agree we need to tread carefully, especially if we plan on living here in Sharn. I have already started to lay permanent roots in Sharn, but with that I walk the streets and see destitution. We live in a very expensive and privileged section of Sharn but you have seen other parts of it.” 

“How should we live in Sharn? As slaves to Boromar because they are powerful? We are also powerful, but barring that – my soul and conscience do not allow me to let wrongs continue. What about yours, Six? Nameless? Luna? Korm’akhan? If Boromar wants to have a front political side and a dark side they have to live with those consequences. Part of those consequences is me and people like me.” 

He pauses, to let his points sink in, and then continues, “How would you live in Sharn? Do you think the destitution of the lower areas of Sharn won’t climb up here one day? Maybe one day soon. Do you sleep, or in your case Six – meditate, well at night not worrying about the choices you make and how it affects others, and NOT just us. The alliances we make reflect on all of us. Six, if you become friends with the Boromar this will reflect on all of us because we are associated. My friendship with the Church reflects on you. I, as well as the rest of us, need to know what relationship you have with Boromar. I also need you to understand these drug dens are not acceptable. If you are citizens of Sharn, true citizens, and you want to work within the laws of Sharn then you need to know – because I believe I know the law more then you – these drug dens are illegal. They are run by the Boromars, who are brokers for illegal activities. How do we support a group – and by being associated with them we are supporting them – that believes in ruining the lives of many for their profits? What do you say?”

Six replies, “We are powerful adventurers who just used significant money and pull to get a stately house in a rich part of Sharn. Given our history here, especially with Daask, an invite isn’t unusual. It is probably the opening of a long campaign of intrigue.” 

“I’ve seen there are laws on the books and laws people follow. Sometimes they are the same, but you need to know both sets to be effective at operating in a society. Considering the Boromars’ abilities, knowing what the sets are is crucial before you act.” 

“As far as thinking of other, it’s the people you know I was referring to: Bodo, Lalia, Trillia, Luna’s children etc. We don’t have a good track record of protecting people involved with our adventures. Also as I’ve said death is not the only way of retribution. Given the way things work here, opponents might mess with us just because its fun.”

“Yes, yes, I know all that,” says Gareth, “But just answer the question. Do you have a relationship with the Boromars outside of our group’s relationship with them? And please do not attempt to use your game of intrigue or guile with me. I may not play the game, but I am very skilled at detecting it.” Even as he speaks, Gareth using his ability to read minds to start reading Six’s.

While doing so, he continues, “And let us not forget, we are powerful and we should not start acting like a group like the Boromars are godlike. Believe me when I tell you they feel they have a lot more to lose then we do and they will not bring attention to themselves. We have some reporters who would be glad to report the Boromars are sending assassins at us. That piece of information is more than likely to destroy the public face of the clan.”

“And Six, what laws, on the books, have you seen? I have spent many hours in the library studying law and when have you been there? Also, what “laws people follow” are you talking about? Are you trying to hint at the underworld? Those are not laws; those are whims that change as fast as a person’s nature does. Those so-called laws are based on desire, greed and corruption – and laws like drug dealing, harassment of innocents, extortion and more will not be followed by me – and they are against the written law, the one that puts you in jail.”

“Yes, Boromar, or anyone else, can come after the people we know – and the Silver Flame help them if they do – because nobody else will be able to. They know this, and we know this. They know that touching our kin will cause more havoc and damage to them then what happened on that island adventure we went to. You know this also.” 

“Our public face, our prowess, and our contacts give us a broad shield. Our refusal to compromise on the right things will protect us. Consorting and working with the forces of evil, and we all agree Boromar and Daask are evil, will do nothing but weaken us in the eyes of those who can most help us. Again, do you have a relationship with Boromar outside of what the group has – are there any pieces of information that you have which I or the rest of the group do not have? If you cannot trust us with this information, how can you trust us in the field of battle?”

As he speaks, Gareth is finally able to read the surface of Six’s mind. He feels no surprise, but some irritation, as the uppermost thought is “Gareth is _such_ an idiot!” The thought is overlaid with irritation, exasperation, and some worry. To Gareth’s relief, the next thought that floats to the surface is “No, of course I don’t have any contact or relationship with the Boromars!”

The thought is matched by the act, as Six says aloud, “No, I have nothing with the Boromars. That good enough for you?” He turns on his heel and walks out. 

“That’s good enough for me,” says Nameless, and Gareth nods. 

“I don’t know about that connection with the Flame, Gareth,” says Korm, with a grin. “It definitely made him smarter, but it it didn’t teach Six to get to the point any quicker. All he had to do was say he didn’t have a connection with the Boromars.”

Luna looks up from her meal and points at the letter in Gareth’s hand. “Yeah, but looks we’re all about to.”


----------



## Sidekick

Ahh poolitical intrigue - where Lunua's Flame Strikes (tm) are near useless.

notice how I said 'near useless'...


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Ahh poolitical intrigue - where Lunua's Flame Strikes (tm) are near useless.
> 
> notice how I said 'near useless'...



 As the druids say - When your only tool is a _flame strike_, everything looks flammable.

Luckily, the PCs have realized they're out of their depth when it comes to urban skullduggery and political maneuvering and are working hard at building up some support for their side. Especially Six, who's putting his improved abilities (he put the permanent +4 enhancements from the Silver Flame into Int, Wis and Cha, giving him the second highest Int and Cha in the party) to good use. 

And here we go, with my 4th update in 7 days (and expect another, much longer, one on Thursday, detailing the dinner with the Boromars and the fun things Gareth does there)...

* * * * * *
*Picking up Allies*

The next day, the Angels visit Black Arch, the garrison district of Lower Tavick’s. The dark, foreboding district is the gateway to the rest of Sharn for all who enter it by land, and is clearly designed to stand a siege if needed. Fortified spires and guard posts abound, and heavy portcullises stand ready to seal off the main entrances as needed. The center of the district is dominated by a massive tower of sable stone, and it is to this garrison that the Angels head.

The note from Sava Kharisa makes entrance easier, but even so, it is a good hour or so before they are able to see Iyanna ir’Talan, the supposedly incorruptible commander of the Tavick’s Landing branch of the City Watch. They find her to be surprisingly young, looking as if she were in her late 20s or early 30s at best. The plain-featured and serious-looking woman with short brown hair looks up from a piled desk as they are ushered into her office.

“Yes? How may I help you?”

The Angels introduce themselves and Iyanna says, “I know of you, though we haven’t met. I have read and heard of some of your exploits.” The tone is dry and non-committal.

Nameless says, “Since we’ve moved into a building in Upper Tavick’s, as I’m sure you’ve heard, we thought we would come by and introduce ourselves.”

“I appreciate the courtesy, but no, I hadn’t heard. Upper Tavick’s is outside my jurisdiction. It has its own branch of the Watch and the Deneith Blademark handling matters.”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “We also wanted to offer you any help we can, and to offer refuge if you ever need it.”

“Refuge?” asks Iyanna, sounding surprised.

“You do know that there’s an expectation that you won’t live out the year, correct?”

Iyanna replies dryly. “Yes. I had forgotten to check on the odds currently on offer. And you are offering me refuge in case people try to kill me?”

“Yes. If you ever need sanctuary, we’d be happy to provide it.”

Iyanna’s lips flicker into the ghost of a smile and she says, “Well, it’s been a long time since someone made that kind of offer to me. Thanks, but I have to say that if I’m not here at my desk, I’d in all likelihood have to be dead. But tell me – why are you being so … helpful?”

“We want to be on good terms with law enforcement in the city,” explains Nameless, “And you were especially well recommended to us by Sava Kharisa.” He hands over the note the councilor had given the group.

Iyanna reads it, and for the first time, a real smile crosses her face. “Good. If Sava vouches for you, that’s good enough for me.” She looks around the group and says, “And I appreciate the offer of aid. All of the commanders like to have a few skilled contacts for jobs that the regular watch can’t handle, and I believe your abilities are well beyond what our normal forces can bring to the table.”

“That’s true,” says Nameless frankly. “Also, we can provide some help with divinations, if not-so-direct help is needed.”

“That’s good to know. We usually have the Blackened Book take care of such things, but an extra option never hurts.”

“We’ve actually had a lot of contact with Balan Cord of the Blackened Book,” adds Six.

“Ah! Warden Cord is one of their best countermages. We’ve worked together before.” Iyanna leans forward and rests both elbows on her desk. “Sava and I have recently been working on a series of operations designed to significantly – at least so we hope – cut into drug trafficking in this city. We might be able to use your expertise there.”

A couple of the Angels wince and Nameless says, “We’d like to, but we have a problem in one area. We have an agreement with Daask not to harm them in any way for six months?”

“You have an _agreement_ with Daask?”

“It’s a long story. In short, we attacked one of their drug dens for a little exercise, got careless and two of us,” he indicates Gareth and himself, “Got captured. They released us in return for a promise not to attack them in any way for six months.”

“They released you?”

“Yes,” puts in Gareth. “They were worried that if they killed us, that the rest of the team would cause so much damage in revenge that it wouldn’t be worth it.”

“Bah!” grunts Luna. “They just knew I was coming.” She grins at Iyanna. “These four geniuses went off to beat up on Daask for fun and got two of them captured. Never send a man to do a woman’s job.”

Iyanna doesn’t smile, but her lips twitch slightly. Then she looks at Nameless and says, her tone dry, “All right. This would be a good time to tell me if you have any agreements with the Boromars too.”

“No,” replies Nameless, “But we are having dinner with them tomorrow.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Got the invitation yesterday.” Nameless produces it and slides it across for Iyanna to read.

“Do you have any idea why you received this invitation?”

“I’m guessing it’s simply because we’ve bought a house in a high society area and it’s essentially a social gathering,” says Gareth.

“Hardly. Saidan wouldn’t be inviting you if he didn’t want something, even if it be just some information about you.” She hands back the invitation and says, “I’d appreciate it if you tell me what happens at the dinner.” 

“We will,” promises Nameless. 

After a little more conversation, the Angels leave. As they are heading back to the house, Nameless says, “Well, that makes a few useful contacts, with Balan, Talleon, Sava and her.”

“I hope so,” says Korm. “We really need a few people on our side.”

* * * * * * 
Gareth answers the knock on the door to see a young man, dressed much like one of the Blades might be, armored in a chain shirt, with a rapier at his side and a shortbow on his back. 

“Hello – I’m looking for Mithral Six of Six. I was sent by Warden Balan Cord.”

“Come on in. I am Gareth. And you are?” 

“Call me Fett,” says the man with a friendly smile, shaking Gareth’s hand and following him in.

Gareth leads Fett into the parlor, where the others are. He quickly introduces himself and then addresses Six.

“You must be Six. Balan said that you were looking to hire someone who’d be able to keep an ear out for news around Sharn, especially regarding the underworld?”

“Yes, I am” says Six, waving Fett to a seat. To the others, he says, “I went to talk to Balan about Daask and the Boromars and asked for a contact or two in this area.”

“Sounds good to me,” says Korm. “We could really use it, and we also really suck at it, as someone recently pointed out.”

Six emits a metallic chuckle and turns to Fett. “All right. Tell us a little about yourself and why you’re interested in the job.”

“All right,” says Fett. “Firstly, just so there are no misunderstandings, I’m a changeling.”

“Okay. Probably works out the better for us if we hire you in this regard.”

“Yes, it does,” says Fett, with a smile, and then provides the Angels with a quick coverage of personal information. He is actually a former member of the Blades of Arakhain*, probably the best known adventuring group in Sharn before the Guardian Angels, and says he was in the group when it took out the Emerald Claw cell here in Gray House. When his companions returned to the Mournland with aid from Houses Cannith and Deneith to go after the Lord of Blades, whom they had encountered on a previous visit there, he respectfully declined.

“One visit there was enough,” he says, “Thank you very much. Unfortunately, you’ve already heard what happened to the rest of the group there.” The Angels nod, knowing that the Blades of Arakhain were all killed in the battle during which the Lord of Blades was slain. 

Fett goes on to say that he’s been in Sharn for the last two months, building up contacts, many of them in the underworld, and creating a few working identities. Since he had worked with Balan in eliminating the Emerald Claw, Balan thought of him after Six made the request. Fett says that he’d be happy to work for the Angels, who he has heard a lot about, as well as seeing them at the festival of Dol Dorn (where they dueled some of his now late companions). This job would allow him to use his specific skills, earn some money, and have some powerful allies.

Gareth, at this point, says that in view of their experiences, he’d like to use a few divinations on Fett, namely a _detect evil_, a _zone of truth_ and a _detect thoughts_. Fett looks momentarily hesitant, but then agrees, saying, “Now I’m curious what happened to you guys to make you so paranoid.” 

“Got a couple of months?” grunts Korm.

Gareth uses his spells and discovers that Fett is not evil and is honest about what he is saying. He keeps the _detect thoughts_ running while the discussion continues. 

Fett then asks if the Angels want him to live in the Gray House with them, which he is willing to do. After some discussion, they decide that would be most convenient. They also warn him that certain areas will be warded and he should avoid going there. Six especially points out that he should never, _ever_ go into Nameless’ kitchen.

“My kitchen?” asks Nameless.

“Yes,” says Korm. “We discussed it yesterday. Six doesn’t eat, but the rest of us are not putting our food where you’re putting your food. Hell – I’m sure your food would be eating our food!”

Six looks seriously at Fett and says, “In Nameless’ kitchen, the food eats _you_!”

Fett chuckles and says he’ll make a note of that. More seriously, he adds that he’ll need two days off every week, to be determined by him, but will be available the rest of the time. He’s also happy to look after the house if the Angels are not around. Similarly, while they are there, he’ll fight beside them to guard it. He warns them, however, that while he can take care of himself in a fight, when it comes to combat, he’s nowhere near their league. Gareth asks about his abilities and he says that he’s a swordsman, not a spellcaster, but can activate all kinds of magical items. 

Fett asks for 250 galifars monthly, along with the room and board being provided for him, plus any expenses that he incurs while gathering information for them. He adds that if they, during their adventures, find magical items that they can spare, he’d be very grateful for them. Fett also checks if he is being hired by Six or the group as a whole, because it’s a question of both loyalty and who he answers to. The Angels confirm that it is a group hire.

Lastly, Fett mentions a couple of things in the interests of complete honesty. He says that even though he may work for the Angels, he will need his privacy. He has certain personal affairs that he will not share with them. But anything he ever learns that is germane to them he will share, and he will work for their benefit unstintingly. Naturally, he will respect their privacy too, and if there are things which they don’t share with him, he understands, and what information they do give him will always remain private. On a particularly changeling-like aspect of privacy, Fett says that he will inform them about a couple of the other identities that he uses, and asks that if they see him around Sharn in such an identity, they shouldn’t acknowledge they know him unless he does. 

The discussion is interrupted by the arrival of Flim Turen. When Six meets him at the door, Fett inside recognizes the voice. “Oh lord – you guys know him too?” 

A couple of the Angels roll their eyes. “Unfortunately. You want us to distract him so that you can leave?”

Fett shrugs. “If I’m working for you, people will find out soon enough. As long as they just know ‘Fett’ is working for you and not any of my other identities, I don’t care.”

Six walks in with Flim, who immediately recognizes Fett and asks him how he’s connected to the Angels. Gareth interrupts quickly. “No questions.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t get to ask Fett any questions. And you, Fett, don’t answer any. That’s the deal, Flim – take it or leave it.”

The gnome shrugs and says, “Not a big deal. Anyway, I just came by to show you the ‘teaser’ notice about your column.”

“You guys have a column in the Chronicle?” asks Fett.

“They’re going to,” replies Flim. “In two days. A weekly column about the amazing adventures of the Guardian Angels. Go on – take a look.” He hands over a folded paper to Luna.

“I’m half afraid to,” grumbles the druid, as she opens it and reads aloud. At the top of the sheet in her hands, in bold, are the words, “The Guardian Angels Soar in the Pages of the Korranberg Chronicle.” Below, the ‘teaser’ explains that the KC will now be carrying a weekly article documenting the adventures of the Guardian Angels, Sharn’s premier adventuring group. It will begin with the events mentioned in passing in the KC over a month ago, when they found an undiscovered island near Xen’drik, beginning an amazing set of adventures, taking them across the lands of Khorvaire in a mighty quest, the result of which would affect the fates of the Five Nations and beyond. Stay tuned! 

“Are you guys sure about this?” asks Korm.

“I don’t really like it,” says Six.

Flim says, “Look – you guys are among the hot topics in Sharn. There will be articles about you. This way, you can make sure they’re accurate, and that they don’t print things you don’t want out there.”

“Exactly,” says Gareth. “If we don’t give you the details, you’ll just dig them up and print them – right, Flim?”

The gnome smiles. “Yup! So you might as well use this opportunity for all it’s worth.”

“Fine,” says Nameless. “Just make sure you stick to the agreement.”

“Sure thing. Now tell me more about this voyage and the island.”

Nameless provides a fairly good coverage of the subject, with Flim asking questions and taking notes. As the gnome points out, they won’t be getting down to precise details in the articles, due to space issues, so he generally touches on the more newsworthy moments. Eventually, when the events on the island are covered, Flim says, “Thanks. That should be good for 3-4 weeks. So tell me, anything you want left out, emphasized, or the like?”

After a moment’s thought, Nameless says, “I don’t want the precise description of the shard. Describe it as an emerald globe that has some connection to bindings.”

Flim makes a note. “Sure. Anything else?”

“No, that’s it.”

“Hold on,” says Six, “I have a question.”

“Sure.”

“You said you could find information from the Library of Korranberg for us, right?”

“Yeah. What do you need?”

“We’ve had some experiences with this binding oriented stuff. I’ll like to know whatever I can about binding magic. Zilargo is where that’s all done, right?”

“Elemental binding is. That’s what you want to find out about?”

“Yes.”

Flim shakes his head. “Even the Library can’t tell you how to do it. That’s just too important a trade secret. Zilargo has never shared it with anyone, and the average gnome has no idea how it’s done. I have no clue. Sorry. I can try to get you what the Library has on it, but you won’t get any details of how to do it.”

Six shrugs. “That’s all right. I’ll take whatever you can get.”

Flim says he’ll have it for Six in a few days and takes his leave. After he’s gone, the Angels spend a lot more time talking to Fett, telling him about their adventures and asking about the Blades of Arakhain. Six is especially interested in the fact that the Blades, and especially their most outspoken member, the priestess Amaris Medani, had been directly involved in House Cannith’s recent offer of employment to all warforged, as well as their promise to try and buy out the indentured servitude that many warforged in the Cogs lived under. 

Fett, meanwhile, is especially interested in the group’s encounters with Daask and their impending dinner with the Boromars. It also emerges that the Blades had encountered Killian too, though only once. “He offered us a job,” says Fett, with a laugh, “And six hours later we – well, they – were on their way to the Mournland.” The laugh slips slightly and the Angels remember that this was the trip his companions never returned from. 

“Sounds like they were smarter than us,” comments Korm.

Fett eventually takes his leave, promising to be back the next day. Before he goes, he wishes the Angels best of luck with their dinner.

Once he is gone, the Angels look at each other. “Time to get ready to meet the halfling crime boss. Oh, joy!”  


* He’s actually a PC from my other Eberron campaign, now discontinued, which featured the Blades of Arakhain.


----------



## Rackhir

And in our next up date we'll learn why High Charisma + Ranks in Diplomacy /= Tactful.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:
			
		

> And in our next up date we'll learn why High Charisma + Ranks in Diplomacy /= Tactful.





Now now Rack...as a computer nerd you should know that it is:

"!="  not "/="

C code would be very upset with you!

Sides, there are times Gareth cares about diplomacy (99% of the time) and times when Gareth wants to piss someone off.


----------



## Rackhir

AviLazar said:
			
		

> Now now Rack...as a computer nerd you should know that it is:
> 
> "!="  not "/="
> 
> C code would be very upset with you!




Yeah, and it's ^= in SAS and <> in MS VB...

/= is correct for Fortran in any case.


----------



## Sidekick

Sidekick looks over his head with a glazed look as the last two posts content leaps over him with ease.

_Damn jump check modifiers_, he thinks. 

More story please.

FOR TRUTH JUSTICE AND MY NEED TO AVOID WORK!!!!


----------



## shilsen

Here you go. An especially long instalment this time:

* * * * * * 
That evening, following the directions in the letter, the group takes a skycoach to the Little Plains district of Middle Menthis. By their standards, the Angels are extremely well dressed, most of them having taken time out to do a little preparatory shopping. Almost none of them carry weapons openly, though Gareth is wearing his longsword, having stowed them all in the newly purchased _portable hole_ Nameless is carrying. Of them all, Nameless looks the most distinctive, not because of his garb but because of his brightly glowing blue eyes, a result of the _arcane sight_ he has cast on himself with a _permanency_. Even as the vehicle slowly soars in for a landing, it is clear that this area has a very distinctive nature, and as they embark and head inwards, the Angels find themselves in an area unlike any other in Sharn. 

The population is the first change, the vast majority of it consisting of the various shorter species, predominantly halfling, with some gnomes and even a few kobolds. The skybridges are proportionately narrower, sometimes half the size of those found elsewhere in Sharn. The spatial relations between streets and towers are also different. Most of the middle and upper districts have skybridges joining large central open spaces, which connect multiple buildings that are attached to the outer sides of towers. Here, these plaza-like central areas are lacking, being replaced by a network of streets and skybridges that coil around the outside of the towers and giving access to low doorways that lead to dark, cave-like interiors. The towers themselves have been carved to resemble tents with curving sides. The effect is a district that looks like a city made of large tents, supposedly resembling the central town of Gatherhold in the Talenta Plains.

The effect is heightened by the traditional Talenta clothing that many of the inhabitants wear, and even more so by the presence of dinosaurs. Dozens of them are visible, walking across the skybridges, usually bearing riders. Some of the more skilled – or daring – ones cut across the sides of buildings or sometimes even the underside of a bridge. There are also a number of flying dinosaurs, not all with riders. They flap and soar among the towers, some of which have been built with perches for them to rest on. 

The Boromar estate is easily the largest of the buildings in Little Plains, and draws one’s gaze because it is not just central but also close to two other buildings that are among the largest. One looks like a council hall for the district, while the other is a temple of Boldrei. Reaching the estate, the Angels find themselves accosted by four halfling guards, two on dinosaurs. After checking their invitation letter, one leads the group through the main entrance, where they are met by a plump, matronly halfling, who greets them and says they are expected. 

She leads them down a hall to a comfortable sitting room, with furnishings designed for people of the Angels’ size, as well as for smaller people. As they walk through the hall, the adventurers notice that most of the exits they pass have been built (or rebuilt) for shorter people, which would make passage (and attacks) by human sized or larger creatures very difficult. Seeing them, Nameless grins and casts an _alter self_, taking the form of a halfling. The matron doesn’t even twitch a hair as he does so, just as she did not even glance at his glowing eyes, which he now veils through the new spell. She simply asks them to be seated and to enjoy the refreshments, saying that their host will be with them shortly.

As she leaves, the Angels quietly begin to talk among themselves.

“I’m not seeing signs of any other guests,” says Luna, while reaching for a bowl of dried nuts on the table.

“Maybe we’re the only ones?” hazards Korm.

Gareth frowns slightly. “Then it’s unlikely that this is just a social invitation.”

Six looks at him and sadly shakes his head, while Nameless says, “Let’s see now … probably most famous adventurers in Sharn … have some notoriety for destroying,” he catches a look from Luna and amends, “…um, attacking Daask drug dens … no, I don’t think they called us just because they want to welcome us to the neighborhood.”

“Well,” says Gareth, “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough. I am a little curious to see what they want and how they expect to get it.”

“Speaking of seeing,” says Nameless, “If you even _think_ of trying to _detect thoughts_ on the head of the Boromars, or anyone else in here, I will _disintegrate_ your ass. You almost got us killed by Daask trying that dumb stunt.”

Gareth scowls, but then mutters, “I wasn’t about to try that. Don’t worry. I’m not…”

The conclusion to the sentence, and the inevitable rejoinder from one or more of his companions, is interrupted by the entrance of a pair of halfling guards through another doorway. They stop as they enter and step to the side, to allow the entrance of a group of three halflings and a gnome. 

In the lead is a middle-aged man, his hair (worn openly, without the traditional Talenta topknot) streaked with gray. Beside him walks a plump woman of roughly the same age, the tip of a dragonmark emerging from her long-sleeved blouse. Behind them walks a younger woman, whom the Angels recognize as Ilyra Boromar, the city councilor. And behind her is the gnome, a man who seems about the same age as or slightly older than the leader. All of the halflings are dressed in simple but very well-made darkweave clothing, while the gnome wears more ordinary garb, like that of a well-to-do clerk.

“Greetings to my home,” says the male halfling, as he walks up and extends a hand. The Angels notice that he is almost completely silent as he walks, only the preternaturally fine hearing of Luna, Korm and Six picking up a whisper of sound from his footfalls. “I am Saidan Boromar,” he says, shaking hands. “This is my wife, Mala, and here is my daughter, Ilyra, who some of you may know as the councilor from Lower Dura.” The two women smile and greet the Angels, while Saidan turns to the gnome. “This is my accountant, Castar. He will be joining us for dinner. Please, sit down.”

As the Angels resume their seats, the others join them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” continues Saidan. “I have been reading and hearing about the Guardian Angels for so long that I thought I should meet you for myself.” He asks them how they are doing and begins to make general chit-chat, with Ilyra and Mala joining in. Castar, who is seated a little further away, simply sits silently and watches the group, saying nothing at all.

The conversation is pleasant but slightly strained, since the Angels are mostly just wondering what the real reason for the invitation is and when they will find out, as well as somewhat discomfited by the presence Castar, watching and studying them silently. After about fifteen minutes, they are interrupted by the entrance of another halfling. This one is disproportionately, almost comically muscular, his biceps straining the material of the hunting jacket he wears. A very functional-looking Talenta tangat is strapped to his back. As he enters, Saidan waves him over. When he comes over, Saidan introduces him as Halak Boromar, his “security chief.” Saidan adds, “You know crime in the city; you can never be too careful.” 

Turning to Halak, he asks, “Is the problem taken care of?” and Halak replies simply, “Yes.” Saidan says, “Good. I will speak with you after dinner.” 

Halak goes to the doorway, and then stops, turns and looks at the Angels. The expression on his face is much like that of a housewife at the market, sizing up cuts of meat. After a couple of seconds, Saidan notices and turns to look at him. He frowns slightly and Halak turns and leaves. Saidan turns back to the group and says, “Halak’s fairly new to Sharn from the Plains, so his manners are a trifle lacking, but he’s a good worker.”

He is about to continue, when his wife’s expression catches his eye. “I believe dinner has been served,” he says quickly. “We can talk more during it. Please, follow me.” The Boromars rise and lead the group out through another door and down a short corridor to a large chamber. 

Entering, they find that the room contains a number of long tables, a couple of which are already occupied by numerous halflings. They greet Saidan but do not rise, and he waves at them before leading the group to the main table, which has been set for nine people. As they seat themselves, he says, “Mealtime is a very communal thing for our people. We try to keep the old customs alive here, you know.” The Angels notice that the halflings at the other table have all their food served in large bowls or dishes that they all serve themselves and, and in some cases, eat from. The food at the main table, where they sit, is more traditional to Sharn, however. 

As Six is resigning himself to another hour spent watching people eat, a server places a plate in front of him and removes the cover to reveal what look like three metal biscuits, each about two inches long and an inch wide. They seem to have some metal filings on them. Saidan smiles and says, “I know warforged do not eat, so I thought I’d get you something you might not have tried. Do you know the Red Hammer Inn?”

“No, though the name sounds vaguely familiar.”

“It’s a place down in the Blackbones Cogs, run by and catering specifically to warforged. One of the people there has been experimenting with things that the warforged can taste. Supposedly these are appetizing for your species. You’re supposed to put them in your mouth but not swallow, I believe. Go ahead and try.”

A little skeptically, Six complies, to discover that the metal has been treated with various chemicals so as to react with the metal of his mouth and give off certain flavors that are particularly palpable to a warforged. With his normally very limited sense of taste, it is a very interesting experience.

While Six is trying the ‘biscuits’ and the others are digging into the quite delicious dinner, the Boromars continue to make small talk with the Angels. After a few minutes, Saidan says, “I heard that you had attacked a Daask drug den recently. And I think I remember something similar a few months ago, which was the first time I heard of you. Are you particularly opposed to Daask?”

In view of their knowledge of the Daask-Boromar equation, none of the Angels are surprised at the question. Some are amused, however, as they note Mala giving her husband the typical look of a wife whose husband insists on talking of work at dinner.

“No,” replies Nameless. “We just wanted to get some exercise and try out some new toys we have.”

“I see,” continues Saidan. “The reason I ask is that Daask has been causing trouble for some of my businesses…”

“What kind of businesses?” interrupts Gareth, sounding slightly more suspicious than he intended to.

Saidan frowns at the interruption and the tone. Mala quickly puts a hand on his arm and he smiles at her and then replies to Gareth. “Warehouses, for example. I have money in many of the warehouses servicing the docks. Some of my tenants have also been beaten up and robbed. I’m sure you’ve heard similar stories too.” 

He leans forward, ignoring his food, and continues. “In view of your evident expertise and power, I was interested in hiring you to help teach Daask a lesson. Eradicating them from Sharn might be beyond even your abilities, but you could definitely hurt them significantly, and that might be enough for others, like the city Watch, to complete the job. What do you say?”

Nameless says quickly, “Unfortunately, we are busy with other engagements for the next six months.”

Gareth replies simultaneously, “We cannot accept the job, since we will be leaving the city soon.”

Saidan looks back and forth between the two and then addresses Nameless. “You say you’ll be busy here for six months, but he says you’re leaving Sharn. Which is it?”

“Both,” says Gareth. “We will be going on a quest shortly which will take us away from the city. And we cannot work for you.”

“Really? Why not, if I may ask?”

Gareth hesitates for a moment and then says, “You might want your daughter, the city councilor, to not hear this.”

Ilyra, who has been eating quietly and listening to the exchange, looks surprised. “I believe that anything you can say to my father you can say to me.” Saidan nods and says, “Yes. Go ahead. It seems you have something you’ve been waiting to tell me.”

“All right,” says Gareth curtly. “We will not work for you because you are just as dirty as Daask. Everybody knows that you are criminals, the only difference with Daask being that you have a political and a social face, which they do not. So in that sense, they are even more honest than you. I would not work for you under any circumstances.”

As Gareth is speaking, Saidan’s face turns beetroot red. When Gareth finishes, the halfling says grimly, “Mala, Ilyra – you can leave us now!” This time his wife says nothing, rising swiftly with her daughter and walking out, though she does stop at the door to glance back, a hint of worry in her eyes.

As soon as they are gone, Saidan leans forward and hisses, “You little punk!” (which would have sounded much more amusing coming from someone of his stature, in different circumstances). “You dare to accept my hospitality, sit at my table, and insult me? Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?”

“I know exactly who I’m talking to,” replies Gareth coldly. “And I wouldn’t have said what I did if you hadn’t kept badgering us about working for you.”

Nameless tries to intervene, saying as politely as he can, “Please forgive our friend. He has…”

“Nameless!” begins Gareth irritatedly, “There’s no need to…”

“No,” continues Saidan, the redness slowly beginning to drain from his face, but his tone not changing. “There is just one thing which needs to be said. Do you stand by your friend’s opinions? Or should I be talking to you about the offer I made?”

“I’m not saying that we agree with his sentiments,” says Nameless, “But we cannot accept this job….”

“That’s all I needed to know,” says Saidan, rising to his feet. The halflings at the other tables, who have been silently watching what has been occurring at the main table, begin to rise too, but he waves them back into their seats. “Enjoy the rest of your meal and then leave.” He glares at Gareth. “I look forward to never having to meet you again.”

Gareth replies with only a level gaze and Saidan turns away and walks out of the chamber. The Angels exchange looks and then Gareth and Nameless say, “I think we should leave now.” Six rises quickly too as they do, followed more slowly by Korm.

“Darn! This was good stuff,” says Luna, before opening a bag and shoveling a couple of platefuls of food into it. “What? I’m still hungry!”

As the Angels leave the chamber, the two guards fall in behind them, keeping a respectful distance. They are halfway to the exit when another four guards emerge from a side doorway, preceded by Halak Boromar. 

He walks up to Gareth and stands in front of him, looking him up and down, like a lumberjack examining a tree before felling it. Gareth looks down at him silently. Finally, Halak says, “You think you’re bloody clever, aren’t you? Insulting my boss in his home, knowing that he won’t do  to you here, since you’re invited guests.”

“I did not know that,” says Gareth coldly, “And I would have told him that anywhere. Now do you have anything important to say to me?”

Halak’s lips curl back in a snarl and a hand reaches up to the tangat on his back, but then he lowers it, a combination of bloodlust and feral cunning shining in his eyes. “Nah! I can’t touch you here today. But maybe we’ll get a chance to discuss it somewhere else.”

Gareth doesn’t reply, and after a second, Halak steps away. He heads back towards the doorway he came from, only pausing to snap to the guards, “Throw the trash out.” They do not respond in any way, keeping the same respectful distance from the group as they accompany them to the main entrance.

Once they are outside and heading quickly away, Korm lets out a deep breath. “Well – that was fun! So who can we go piss off next?”

* * * * * *
The next day, the Angels meet with Ythana Morr regarding the quest to find Jalus Baine’s remains. She suggests that they leave three days later, on the 1st of Sypheros, which is the festival of the Ascension, since it’s a holy day for the Flame. Gareth will join her in the celebration at the Cathedral in the morning, so she suggests they leave in the evening.

Ythana also introduces them to their guide, whom they’ve met before. He is Deemin, whose friend (Finch) Gareth had cured from possession, and both of whom had taken part in the attack on the first drug den with the Angels. Ythana says he has some knowledge of the Depths and can take them to the general area, adding that he’s reliable, if a little greedy. When the Angels talk to him, Deemin says that he’s been hearing a lot of talk about them at the Clifftop Adventuring Guild and looks forward to working with them. He also mentions that Finch won’t be along, because he refuses to go back into the Depths any more since the possession happened. From Ythana’s description of where she thinks Jalus was lost, they’ll be spending the better part of a day getting to the general area, and maybe more in there, depending how long searching takes. He also mentions that while he will lead them to the area and out again, he will avoid fighting if at all possible. As he says, “I’ve heard enough to know I’m not in your league. If we encounter something dangerous, I’m sure you can kill it. And if you can’t, I have no chance. Plus, if I get killed or hurt, you’ll never make it back topside.”

After they have spoken, Deemin leaves and Ythana continues telling them what she knows. She says that she has done a _divination_, asking “How can one best recover Jalus Baine’s remains and the Eternal Blade?” 

The answer she received was: “Let the undying fruits of the tree of woe bloom, so that you may wither it forever.” Ythana says she can’t say precisely what that means, but with her experience of the spell, she is fairly sure that it has something to do with undead. To that end, she gives the group a dozen vials of holy water from the temple, and suggests that they prepare accordingly.

After they return home, Nameless suggests that he try a _contact other plane_ to see if he can find any additional information on this tree of woe. The next day, after casting a few protective dweomers, he casts the spell. Slowly, over the course of the ten minutes of casting, his consciousness expands, until he is in temporary contact with a vast reservoir of cosmic knowledge, which appears to him as an illusory web, pulsing with light, every glowing mote on it consisting of a piece of information. 

Nameless resists the accompanying near-physical pressure inside his head, which increases to almost unbearable levels, and then suddenly disappears. Then, as before, he hears a voice in his head – _“Ask.”_

Nameless asks, “Is the Tree of Woe from the Archierophant’s divination a creature?” There is a moment while the web reorients itself to center on one particular mote, and then it answers, _“I do not know.”_

His second question is, “Is it an undead?” The answer, this time is specific. _“No.”_

“Is it an object?” The pause seems longer. _“Partly.”_ 

“If we are in the area of the Tree of Woe, is the Eternal Blade obvious?” _“Yes.”_

“Is it guarded by a creature?” _“I don’t know.”_

As the spell fades away, Nameless shakes away the ringing in his head. “Well, that wasn’t very helpful. I guess we do it the hard way.”

During the intervening time, the Angels make various preparations and go about different activities. Gareth spends time at the Cathedral and with Lalia. Nameless visits Trillia and works on setting up a laboratory in the house, as well as coming up with plans for all the magical protections that will be added to the house. Korm and Luna give some effort to putting together a roof garden. Six spends a fair amount of time with Fett, now a regular fixture at the Gray House, giving him a list of things to find out about, as well as working on a small but intricate sculpture depicting the Little Plains area.

On the 1st, Gareth leaves home before sunrise to travel to the Cathedral. There, he joins the Archierophant and the other priests in preparing for the day’s ceremonies. The first worshippers begin to file in shortly after sunrise, and soon hundreds are present. The festival of the Ascension officially begins two hours after sunrise, and continues for hours. Gareth, in full ceremonial regalia, plays a significant role in the proceedings, and even gives a short sermon. In keeping with his recent travails, his choice of subject is that of faith during moments of extreme hardship and uncertainty.

The various official proceedings end at noon, though the less formal celebrations will continue throughout the day, and the Archierophant introduces Gareth to the various local dignitaries who have come to attend the ceremony. There is a particularly large contingent from the Thranish embassy, including the ambassador, Lady Anador ir’Laisha. She is pleasant enough when Gareth meets her, but as he passes he does hear angry whispering, among some of her followers, about a Karrnathi taking such a prominent part in the service. Neither Ythana nor Anador show any signs of noticing, and Gareth ignores it. After the introductions are over, Ythana suggests that Gareth get some rest and then leave with his companions for the Depths.

On the way back from the Cathedral, Gareth stops at a Sivis message station to send a letter home to his family. It says:



> Dear Mother - Grandmother,
> 
> I hope all is going well with you and with the estate.  There have been many things going on in my life since I last wrote.  The most important is that we went hunting after a group of rakshashas, as one of them stole a dragonshard that was linked to us.  This dragonshard prevented a daelkyr from entering our world, and destroyed the island we were on.  During the final fight as we were about to destroy the last rakshasha he spoke to me, in my mind, and tried to coerce me to join him. Be it through the Silver Flame or my training as an Exorcist of the Silver Flame – it failed.  He then attempted to bargain with me, and when I refused Kizmet shattered and emerged a demon.  The rakshasha told me the demon inside Kizmet was what gave me my powers. While the Battle of Grace happened, my memories from the point after my father draining the last of his healing to me was a lie – an illusion created in my state of unconsciousness.
> 
> I am distraught and need counsel.  I do not know where to go from here.   I have spoken with the Archierophant and she performed some research.  Father is with the Silver Flame; his soul traveled there and is safe from all that is evil.  Some of those in my group, say that I was never a paladin – that I am a fraud.  A degenerate who is as delusional as is a liar.  I think I almost killed Six – I know I would have drawn my sword and cleaved him in two and it took all of my training to not do so.  I most definitely did not act as a paladin should and insulted his sense of self.  For him it is a sensitive topic to speak about his soul and he battles this notion on a daily basis.  I know I am a paladin, and the rakshasha and his demon had to have lied.  I know I am a paladin – the Silver Flame must be testing me and my faith and as always, I serve at the pleasure of the Silver Flame.  I do not have the grace of the Silver Flame, but am I incorrect in saying that a paladin is more than the sum of his abilities?   With the exception of these losses, I feel the same as I have always felt...and yet I feel empty inside.
> 
> The Archierophant has asked me to retrieve the remains of a long forgotten and long past hero of the Flame called Jalus Baine.  I am going on this holy quest, and maybe this is what the Silver Flame requires of me to regain grace.
> 
> Please contact me as soon as you can.  If you have any information that may help, and I hope you do, I look forward to hearing it.
> 
> With great love and devotion,
> Gareth Byron Deneith
> Paladin and Exorcist of the Silver Flame




Coincidentally, and ironically, Six is also arranging the delivery of a message at the same time. In his case, it consists of the sculpture of Little Plains and a note, both of them addressed to Saidan Boromar. The note says: 

“Although we were not able to come to an agreement, the dinner was excellent. My friend may be in opposition to certain positions of yours, but it was boorish to bring it up at the dinner table. Please accept my apologies. Six.”

By the time Gareth rejoins them, all of the others are ready to depart. He too makes his preparations and rests, until there is a knock on the door two hours later. Outside stands Deemin, with a broad grin on his face. “All ready to go? Excellent! This should be fairly educational for you. I know you’ve been in the Depths for a short time earlier, but you really need to spend a few hours there to really get a sense of them.”

* * * * * *
Five hours later, the group stands in the crumbling remains of what may have been a hall when Sharn was the Dhakaani city Ja’shaarat (“Bright Blade”) thousands of years ago. Each and every one of them is badly scorched, a couple barely remaining on their feet as they reach hurriedly for healing wands. 

Nameless looks at the stone wall beside him and says, “I think it’s gone.”

“Hope so!” says Korm, beginning to heal himself, and Luna – back in her favorite bear shape – growls her agreement.

Six flexes his fingers experimentally and grimaces. “Its touch made me sluggish.”

“Yes,” says Gareth. “You’ll need a _restoration_, since the _lesser_ variety won’t do. But I can only cast one tomorrow.” He looks across at Deemin, who is leaning against a wall with a scorched and ashen face. “So this is your idea of educational?”

Their guide smiles even through the pain and irritation of having been damaged as Six was, and says, “Well – you did say you’ve already seen a number of things you haven’t seen before.”

Six silently thinks of what they have seen…

…the giant iron door, warded with enchantments, one of the many that was designed to seal off the Depths when Sharn was rebuilt by Galifar I a thousand years ago.

…the goblinoid ruins and the ruins of earlier versions of Sharn, with only darkness and sometimes the flame of lava pools remaining where thousands had once lived.

…the sight of Nameless rising toward the sound of a slithering in the darkness above, only to be engulfed by thousands of pounds of green protoplasm as the met the arcane ooze going the other way.

…Gareth, being battered and squeezed almost to death by the ooze after Nameless managed to _dimension door_ away, having Korm somehow touch and englobe him in a _rejuvenation cocoon_ while he was actually still _inside_ the ooze.

…the feeling of terror as the two cow-sized rust monsters* rushed him, the sight of Gareth’s shield instantly rusting to pieces, and the humor (though it only seemed funny later) of him, Gareth and Korm turning and fleeing as fast as they could, while Luna and Nameless dealt with the creatures via spell and claw.

…the soundless appearance of the two forgewraiths, their incorporeal gray figures outlined in fire, as they emerged from the stone walls of the hall.

…the combination of _fireball_ and _wall of fire_ that they used to wound the adventurers, and the irritation of fighting creatures that many blows and spells simply passed through.

…the weakening sensation, as their touch drained him and Deemin of their speed and agility, while strengthening the forgewraiths.

…the momentary surprise evident on the mostly expressionless visage of one of the creatures as it hid, wounded, in a wall, only to have Nameless _stone shape_ a window for them to attack it through.

…the soft inrush of air as one forgewraith finally died under their attacks, and the discovery that it left behind a black opal worth thousands of galifars.

“True,” he says, “But after all that excitement, I think you people will need to rest now.” _Especially so that Gareth can pray for a_ Restoration _for me_. 

Everybody agrees that they should find a safe place to hole up and prepare themselves for finally meeting the tree of woe and discovering what the cryptic divinations really meant. After some searching, they find a cavelike area with only a single entrance and settle down there, using the _staff of survival_ to create a slightly more comfortable, and most importantly, significantly less detectable, shelter.


* Rust monsters are a bigger deal for warforged IMC since they do Con dmg like a _poison_ spell.


----------



## Vorput

Cool... sounds like a fun battle.

Ah, the morally indignant crimelords- they're the best kind!

Vorp

Edit:  What's a forgewraith?  Ebberon specific?


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> Cool... sounds like a fun battle.
> 
> Ah, the morally indignant crimelords- they're the best kind!
> 
> Vorp
> 
> Edit:  What's a forgewraith?  Ebberon specific?




Towards the bottom

 Forgewraith


----------



## Kafkonia

Am I the only one who's anxiously waiting for Six to clock Gareth next time he spouts off?

I'd make a snarky comment about paladins, but of course, he never was one...


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Cool... sounds like a fun battle.




For me, yes 



> Ah, the morally indignant crimelords- they're the best kind!




Heh! Saidan was actually just upset that they - well, Gareth - insulted him at his dinner table. Halflings are big on hospitality. And on riding dinosaurs and taking your head off with a boomerang at 20 paces, which I'm sure my PCs will discover shortly.



			
				Kafkonia said:
			
		

> Am I the only one who's anxiously waiting for Six to clock Gareth next time he spouts off?




Poor Gareth. He just don't get no respect 

Between last session and this one (we're playing at noon today), Six has found an extra ally whom I think you'll find quite amusing. 



> I'd make a snarky comment about paladins, but of course, he never was one...




Ooh, a hit, a palpable hit! I have to say that the never-was-a-paladin thing has worked out as a very easy zinger to use on Gareth ever since the fight at the volcano. That's one he has a hard time arguing down.

And, without further ado, welcome to the Tree of Woe....


* * * * * * 

The night passes uneventfully, except for Luna and Six detecting a distant glow and the sounds of movement in the distance during their watch. After persuading Luna that rushing out there and dropping a _flame strike_ on whoever it is isn’t the most expedient approach, Six slips out cautiously to investigate. 

He sees a flickering glow, like that given off by one or more torches, from around a corner far off to his right. By the time he moves up there quietly, the lights have moved along, and he doesn’t think it worthwhile to follow. Six rejoins Luna and the night passes with no more disturbances.

In the morning, or what is morning for those parts of Sharn not currently deep underground, the group rises, makes its preparations and leaves. Gareth uses a _restoration_ to heal Six, but since he can only prepare one daily, a gloomy Deemin has to continue to suffer the damage inflicted by the forgewraiths. 

When they are leaving, Six stops to examine the area he saw the lights in, and finds the marks of about six pairs of booted feet. Deemin mentions that there are others in Sharn who might have reasons for passing through the Depths. Daask, for example, evidently knows of some areas of the Depths, which its members use to travel more quickly between Khyber’s Gate in the Cogs and the surface of Sharn, instead of taking the long way through either Ashblack or Blackbones and up the standard access shafts. 

The group heads onwards, and after about half an hour, Deemin stops at a large opening and says that they are about to enter an area he knows nothing about. Ythana Morr said she believes they should find Jalus Baine’s remains somewhere here, but the plans she showed him stretch over a square mile. So they will have to search around randomly and hope they get lucky.

The Angels proceed into the area and through it, searching for the ‘tree of woe’ and Jalus Baine. The area they have now entered is in especially decrepit condition, many parts of it seeming much more like natural caves than the remnants of earlier buildings, this appearance given the lie only by the odd remnants of a goblinoid statue or the sudden appearance of a couple of carved steps. The search takes the better part of an hour, and it is Nameless who first notices something unusual. Looking back over the area the group has passed, he sees the faint gleam of green light off to the side. 

Investigation reveals that there is a fold in the stone, creating a wide opening running parallel to and bending into the wall, but only visible from one side. The opening extends fifteen feet before turning to the right, and it is this point that the light emanates from. Nameless permanent _arcane sight_ immediately identifies the glow as possessing a strong necromantic aura. The Angels promptly begin to cast protective spells, but Six suggests they wait until he ascertains what the glow comes from. The big warforged moves into and through the long opening, moving much more silently than his size and material would indicate, and carefully looks around the corner.

Six gazes into an absolutely gigantic chamber, its walls extending beyond the reach of the darkvision bestowed by the symbiont circling his head. The ceiling, showing no signs of artificial creation, is a good sixty feet above his head, supported at wide intervals by huge natural stone pillars. The chamber is lit by the green light, the source of which stands approximately five hundred feet away. It looks like a fifty foot tall tree, its large branches bare of leaves, its gnarled bark gleaming starkly black in the glow that emanates from it. Next to it stands or partly kneels a human-sized figure in armor, but it is difficult for Six to say, since the figure is waist deep in some substance.

And not just the figure. As far as Six can see, the floor of the chamber is covered in what looks like ash. Six reaches down and picks up a handful. The fine gray powder trickles between his fingers, and to his surprise, some of it hangs momentarily in the air as it falls, forming arcane symbols like those he has seen Nameless study when preparing his spells. After a second, the symbols fall apart into ash again. Six produces his extensible pole and prods the ash in places, causing puffs of it to erupt, and on a couple of occasions, such symbols again appear. 

Unsure what it means, Six takes a piled handful of ash and walks back to the others, to explain what he saw. After having done so, he drops some of the ash, causing two more symbols to appear. With a glance, Nameless identifies them as ones commonly used to identify the _mage armor_ and _stinking cloud_ spells. He finds that the ash detects faintly of conjuration, with two distinct auras, but only in spots. Six pockets what remains of the ash for later study, and the group prepares itself to enter, casting a plethora of protective spells.

Watching them do so, Deemin says, “You know – I think I’ll feel a lot happier staying out of your way while you investigate. I think I’ll wait over there.” He waves back the way they came. “Maybe past a couple of turns over there.”

“That’s a good idea,” says Nameless. “Try not to be eaten by anything.”

Deemin gives him a weak grin and walks away. After he is gone and their preparations are done, the Angels proceed into the chamber. Stopping at the entrance, Nameless looks around. His _arcane sight_ reveals scores of spots in the ash with faint magical auras. Curiously, each spot has exactly six faint auras – three conjurations, two evocations and one necromantic. A little prodding by Six in one such spot causes a number of symbols to spiral up, and after checking another two, Nameless is certain that it is the same six symbols, which represent the spells _mage armor_, _magic missile_, _obscuring mist_, _scorching ray_, _stinking cloud_ and _vampiric touch_. Interestingly, the symbols are not magical themselves. 

Not wanting to touch the ash, Nameless uses his _overland flight_ to fly a good thirty feet over it, and Korm grows a fair of large hawk-wings to do the same. The others have to wade through the ash, which they find to be nearly three feet deep. While it is too light to create any kind of impediment, the inability to see the rocky ground underneath, as well as the constant cloud (often bearing the arcane symbols) that is kicked up by their passage, does slow them down.

As they advance, the rest of the Angels note that the air is extremely dry, bearing a faint smell of putrefaction, neither of which Six – with his limited senses of smell and touch – had noticed. They also note that the tree resembles an oak, albeit a leafless one. It has only five large branches, all twisted and roughly pointing upwards, causing it to resemble nothing so much as a gnarled, clawed hand reaching out of the ash. There is a single thinner, smaller branch growing out at a diagonal from the blackened bark a couple of feet above the ash, which is what the figure next to it is holding onto, with both hands above his head, elbows bent as if he was pulling or pushing on it. As they near him, they can see that his armor clearly bears symbols of the Silver Flame, implying that he is Jalus Baine. There is, however, no signs of a weapon.

Once they are within sixty feet, Nameless detects a strong necromantic aura from the tree, along with faint and moderate evocation, while the man’s armor radiates strong abjuration magic. The branch he is holding onto detects of moderate conjuration and evocation. Nameless also notices, as do his companions, that the sickly green glow is concentrated in a few spots. In half a dozen places, small fruits resembling dried prunes hang upon the branches. As they approach, one of the fruits suddenly falls off. As it descends, the fruit begins to fall apart into ash, and in the space of a second, dissolves into nothingness a few inches before it hits the ash on the ground. The ash it dissolves into drifts onto the layers of it already surrounding the twenty foot wide base of the tree. Instantly, another fruit begins to blossom in the previous one’s place, growing quickly to the same size.

“Okay,” says Korm, peering suspiciously at the tree, “I think we found your dead hero, and we found the tree and its fruits. So how do we go about doing what that _divination_ said about making the fruits bloom and withering it for ever?”

“I don’t know,” says Nameless, “And frankly, I think we should just grab the body, stuff it in the _portable hole_ and leave.”

“Good idea,” says Six, walking below him. He moves closer to the tree, and when he is about thirty feet away, a strange sensation of distaste and disgust overtakes him, so strong that it momentarily nauseates him (an especially unusual feeling since the warforged actually lacks any internal organs to be nauseated with). Gareth and Luna encounter the same, the former recognizing it as the same feeling he gets when _detect_ing a particularly virulent evil. Luckily, the feeling quickly passes.

Luna growls at the sensation and then walks over to the armored figure. She sniffs it, finding no scent, and lifts her paw to flip back the visor, but Gareth frowns and smacks at her arm. “Don’t desecrate the dead.”

Six says what Luna’s irritated gesture says. “We just want to check what state he’s in.” 

“There’s no need,” says Gareth. “Help me put the body in the _portable hole_.”

Six shrugs and tries to create a space to put down and open the _ hole_, but the ash continues to pour back into the space and into the magical opening. He then goes over and tries to lift the figure, only to discover that its hands are locked tightly around the branch. Luna comes over to try and pull it off. As she wraps her forelegs around it and pulls, the branch extends a few inches, with an odd sucking sound, and then stops.

“Don’t break the fingers!” says Gareth, alarmed.

“Fine!” says Six, freeing his chain. “I’ll just take the branch off.” He swings, and even though his adamantine chain is ill-suited to the task, the warforged assumes that his strength and its nature will snap the branch like a twig. Instead, the chain just strips inches of bark off the branch, which vibrates but doesn’t break. Surprised, Luna reaches up with a paw and strikes at the branch, but again, it does not break.

Instead, a number of things occur simultaneously. There is the sound of a soft groan – from within the tree, which quivers in response to Luna’s blow as if it had a number of giants shaking it. As it shakes, all of the fruits fall off the blackened branches. As before, they begin to turn to ash as they fall.

Unsure what is going on, Luna reflexively throws her bulk forward, catching one in a paw and letting two more land on her, though all three are ash moments afterwards. Two of the remaining three fruits, beginning their fall closer to the ground due to the shaking of the tree, hit the ash before they are completely dissolved.

Instantly, there is a sound around the entire chamber like the in-drawing of a huge breath, which is instantly replaced by the sound of a blowing wind, beginning all around the chamber and moving inwards. A loud rustling accompanies it, as the ash is blown into the air, or so the Angels assume, since they cannot see it. What they can see is that the bark of the tree is beginning to change texture, becoming seemingly less physical but still remaining darkly opaque, as if it were changing to solid shadow, while its sickly green gleam fades as rapidly. Perhaps most alarmingly, two voices are clearly heard, each in a voice that is cracked and dry, as if parched, intoning the words of what everyone except Six recognizes as clerical spells.

“Looks like we have company!” says Korm, flapping his wings and rising higher, while casting a protective spell. The others follow suit and take up defensive positions. Within seconds, the tree behind them is almost all shadow, the green light that emanated from it previously having shrunk and gone. Luckily, all of the Angels can either see naturally in the darkness or have magical aid allowing them to do so. So they see not only the tree but also the shapes within its exterior, dimly visible through the shadows that it now consists of. They are two human-sized figures, evidently the source of the spellcasting the Angels hear, now occurring in strong and clear tones, both of them standing upon a long, thick cubical structure.

The attention of the adventurers, however, is drawn outwards, where they can not just hear the onrushing wind, but see its effects too, as a wall of ash, blown up to the ceiling, advances towards them. Korm and Nameless, flying high above the ground, think for a moment that they can see movement and figures in the advancing wall, but they have no time to decide or communicate it, before the advancing walls envelop them, meeting in the center where the tree stands.

Or stood, as the Angels see a second later, as the ash disappears into nothingness, leaving the cavern floor bare. The now shadow-tree is gone with it, clearly revealing the two figures within and the structure that supports them. It is a stone altar, carved of some dark gray stone, with holy symbols running around its sides. Or unholy symbols, as Gareth and Nameless realize, since there are two that recur constantly. One is the curved fang-dagger of the Keeper, deity of death and decay, while the other is the blood-smeared bone-blades of the Mockery, lord of treachery and betrayal.

One such similar symbol is worn by each of the figures. The symbol of the Mockery hangs upon the broad but desiccated chest of the first figure, its withered and undead skin, as well as the slavering fangs marking it as a ghoul. The dark flames that wreathe its clenched fists, however, are something new. Beside it stands – or rather floats – the figure wearing the Keeper’s symbol, a spectral form that bestows a ghostly grin upon the Angels. 

Beside them is the remnants of the ‘branch’ the dead man was holding, its bark dissipated with the rest of the tree to reveal what was within. It is a longspear, its point embedded deeply within a large crack that splits the altar. Around the split is a large, amorphous black shape, as if something had somehow been burned into the stone of the altar.

Though they instantly note these singular sights, the Angels are significantly more focused on what the ash revealed in its disappearance, or rather, what it was transmuted into. In every open space around, before, behind and between them stands an identical figure. They are roughly humanoid, but with mottled and decaying flesh drawn tight over their bones. Their eyes glow red with unholy hunger, and sharp teeth gleam between fleshless lips. As far as their darkvision extends, and evidently far beyond, all around the Angels stand thousands of ghouls.

After centuries of waiting, the fruits of the tree of woe have finally come to bloom.

* * * * * *

Note: Yes, I dropped 5000 ghouls on the party. And it's all Rackhir's fault, since he said a couple sessions ago (when we were discussing the party's increased firepower), "You really need to let us take on an army sometime." Being the kindly, gentle and gracious DM that I am, I hurried home to find a way to fulfil his desire.

And that's my story and I'm sticking to it.


----------



## Sidekick

Now thats a real B@stard!!

I Salute you!


----------



## Vorput

hehe, this sounds like it will be an awesome battle.

When all is said and done, you'll have to let me know why those six specific spells were in the ash- and what was up with the different magical auras on the tree/body!

::eagerly awaiting an update::

Vorp

Edit:  I sort of wish it were ghasts instead of ghouls, the combined presence of that many coupled with their stench abiity would be rather humorous... and deadly I suppose, but humerous.


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> hehe, this sounds like it will be an awesome battle.
> 
> When all is said and done, you'll have to let me know why those six specific spells were in the ash- and what was up with the different magical auras on the tree/body!
> 
> ::eagerly awaiting an update::
> 
> Vorp




Oh don't worry, it'll be quite obvious what they're for...


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Now thats a real B@stard!!
> 
> I Salute you!




Thank you. 

During the battle, Rackhir said that it wasn't an army, and was actually a horde. So apparently I am going to have to use a real army on them sometime, just to make him happy. I strive to be nothing if not constantly aware of and catering to my players' desires 



			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> hehe, this sounds like it will be an awesome battle.
> 
> When all is said and done, you'll have to let me know why those six specific spells were in the ash- and what was up with the different magical auras on the tree/body!




As Rackhir wrote above, the update below should make it fairly evident. If not, let me know and I'll post an explanation.



> ::eagerly awaiting an update::
> 
> Vorp




And here you go. I'm trying to stick with an update every 2 days, which is how it should go till the middle of next week, since we'll have to switch to a fortnightly game once my college reopens on the 16th (we've been going weekly during the break).



> Edit: I sort of wish it were ghasts instead of ghouls, the combined presence of that many coupled with their stench abiity would be rather humorous... and deadly I suppose, but humerous.




I did consider it, actually, but the combination of ghast stench, much better attacks and higher DC saves than ghouls would have made it a TPK. 

But here's what happened...

* * * * * *
There is an instant while the Angels and the undead horde stare at each other. And then everyone leaps into action. 

With an angry growl, Luna hurls her bulk onto the altar, clawing at the ghoul priest, who adroitly leaps out of the way and then smashes a fist into her forehead. Despite being layered with magical protection, especially a _stoneskin_ from Nameless and a _protection from energy_, both of which absorb some of the impact and the unholy flames wreathing his hands, the impact hurts. 

From behind the priest, his ghostly compatriot zooms upwards towards Nameless, even as a flaming bead shoots from the latter’s hand to explode into a _fireball_, blasting away nearly fifty ghouls from around the altar. The ghost laughs, “You shall be the first victims of our army!” He reaches into Nameless’ chest with a spectral hand, and then a look of bafflement and anger crosses his semi-transparent face, as his attempt to drain his foe’s life force is thwarted. 

The alienist flies backwards and says, “_Death ward_, genius! Don’t leave home without it.” He gestures and a green ray shoots from his hand, and then it’s his turn to swear in disappointment as the _disintegrate_ passes harmlessly through the incorporeal undead. Nameless’ curses are replicated a split second later, except in orcish, as Korm charges forward to slash at the undead, for his sword to also pass through it without effect.

Below, Six and Gareth barely benefit from the potion and spell they respectively used to _hide from undead_, since a number of the ghouls do still spot them, and surge onto them. Their weapons, especially Six’s whirling chain, temporarily clear a space, dropping ghouls (which instantly return to ash) left and right. But there are too many to keep at bay and a slavering mob surrounds them, trying to pull them down. While the ghouls would rip apart a normal human in seconds, their teeth and claws are ineffectual against the practiced skills and heavy armor of the Angels. A few attacks do connect, but Six’s immunity to paralysis, and the _stoneskin_ that Nameless had also placed on Gareth, also protects them.

Unfortunately, there is an added problem. The Angels face not just an army of ghouls, but army of ghouls with magic. Approximately a fifth of the ghouls bear arcane markings across their chests and arms, markings that replicate the symbols which Six had found emerging from the ash, and which Nameless had identified as associated with certain spells. At a cry of command from the ghostly priest of the Keeper, those which can see the Angels all focus for a moment. The same symbol glows on each of them and nearly thirty _magic missile_s fly through the air. Most are aimed at the fliers, and while nearly a dozen are absorbed by Nameless’ _shield_, Korm rocks under the impact of multiple _missile_s. On the ground, the other three are also hurt, though much less seriously. Even as the two priests laugh in pleasure, Nameless glares down at the sources of the spells. _Spell-stitched ghouls! Sh*t!_ Justified as his concern is, Nameless doesn’t know that sheer coincidence is working in the group’s favor here. In trying to avoid carrying, and depending on, lights down here, the Angels are all relying on darkvision, natural or magical. With the light from the tree now gone, even the ghouls can only see about sixty feet from where they are, and the vast majority of the two hundred spell-stitched ghouls in the chamber, spread across the entirety of the cavern with their other five thousand allies, can neither see nor target the Angels.

Even so, things are slowly going against the Angels. While Luna lands a couple of powerful slashes, she is unable to pull the ghoul-priest into her clutches as she would like to, and his rapid series of blows begins to sap even her massive vitality. Korm’s blows too have little effect against the ghost’s immaterial form, which responds by wounding him further with a powerful bolt of _searing light_. While Six is whirling around, cutting down ghouls like the world’s most metallic and frenzied thresher, dozens more simply flow back to fill their place, continually threatening to pull Gareth and him down through sheer numbers. Nameless summons three massive stag beetles, which begin to trample their way towards the altar, aided by their bulk and their immunity to the non-magical attacks of the ghouls, but their progress is slow. 

And the spell-stitched ghouls continue to wound the Angels with their spells. Luckily, with all of the adventurers having significant fire resistance now, the _scorching ray_s some of the ghouls hurl are completely ineffectual, but the _magic missile_s still hurt. And the spellcasting undead bear more symbols on them. At the ghost’s command, Nameless is suddenly enveloped by a _stinking cloud_, which not only blocks his sight of the battle, but makes him retch with the odor.

Seeing Nameless be enveloped by the spell, Korm shouts in frustration and strikes again. This time, luck is with him, and the magical blade tears through the incorporeal form, ripping it almost in half. The ghost screams and dives towards the battle, disappearing into the mass of ghouls and the ground below. Korm snarls in triumph, and then grimaces, as more _magic missile_s hammer into him.

At the same time, Gareth, having been driven back against the altar by the sheer weight of the ghouls pressing on him, suddenly hears a weak voice in his head. Considering all that has happened to him earlier, his first reaction is almost to scream, “Aaargh! Get out of my head!” But he listens, and hears simply, “Use me.” 

Something tells him that it is the spear that is still stuck in the altar behind him. With no better options at the moment, Gareth swings wildly to clear a space and grabs at the spear. It is still firmly embedded, but as he touches it, the voice strengthens slightly. “I am weak,” it says. “It has been too long. Give me the light of the Flame.” Again, though he does not know how he does so, Gareth realizes what he must do. He concentrates, ignoring the claws scratching off his armor and the long, wiry arms attempting to grapple him, and channels the energy of the Flame through him. Silver flames dance around his hands, where they are wrapped around the spear’s haft.

Instantly, the voice strengthens, taking on a grim and serious tone. The haft of the spear flows strangely, as if it were turning to putty in his hands, and there is a tickling in his head, before the voice says, “So – you use a greatsword.” The spear reshapes, which causes it to pull itself out of the crack, and a second later, Gareth finds himself holding a gleaming metal greatsword. “Six!” he shouts, turning to cleave a ghoul in half with it, “I think we found the Eternal Blade.”

“Beautiful!” says Six, spinning his chain around a ghoul’s throat, pulling back to crack its neck, and smashing the skull of one behind him in the same motion. “Now can it get us out of here?”

Behind them, Luna would utter the same sentiment, but she is too focused on the ghoul before her, not even considering the half a dozen that are clawing abortively at her legs and hindquarters. With another growl, she slashes all the way down one of its arms, ripping undead flesh to the bone. But as she rears up, the ghoul simply snarls back and strikes once, twice and again. As it hits, the dark flames burn into her face and the force of the blows actually crack Luna’s skull in multiple places. Despite the searing pain, she struggles to remain conscious and fight, ignoring the fact that she’s already dying on her feet in her rage and desire to take her foe down with her.

From his vantage point above the battlefield, Korm can see Luna’s situation even better than Six and Gareth near her. Already badly wounded himself, the Gatekeeper knows that he has only seconds before the endless barrage of spells overwhelms him, and only using one of his _rejuvenation cocoon_s will save him. But Luna is already even worse off than him.

As Korm struggles momentarily with the decision, he sees the ghoul-priest link his fingers for a double-handed strike that no spell will be able to heal Luna from. With a flap of his wings, Korm dives, speaking the words of his spell as he goes. Even as the linked, darkly flaming fists come down, Korm touches Luna’s shoulder. The killing blow bounces off a glowing yellowish-green _cocoon_ of force.

Naturally, the reward for Korm’s heroism is immediate and painful. Five more _missile_s slam into his back. As he rocks at the impact, the furious ghoul-priest places both hands on the _cocoon_ and adroitly somersaults upwards. The ball of his foot smashes into Korm’s jaw, sending him tumbling backwards into the sea of ghouls, which flow over him.

And even as Korm falls, the ghost rises out of the ground nearby and soars into the air, many of its wounds healed. It looks around to see Nameless finally emerging, coughing and with watering eyes, from the multiple _stinking cloud_s that had surrounded him. As Nameless tries to recover his senses and cast, the ghost does so first. Instantly, the alienist’s eyes go milky white, as he is rendered blind. He still attempts to cast his spell and succeeds, hurling a _fireball_ blindly that blasts away two score ghouls. It also strikes some of his allies, but their magical protections leave them unhurt. The ghost laughs gleefully and flies up towards him, calling back to the ghoul-priest, “Finish them now.”

Six looks around, seeing only Gareth and him remaining, and says, “Okay – now we’re _really_ in trouble!” Beside him, Gareth hears the voice in his head again. “We must slay the ghost. Can you jump?” 

“What?”

“Just … jump!”

Gareth shrugs, with no better options at hand, and does so. To his surprise, the sword in his hands shoots out, dragging him behind it as it blazes through the air, silver flames flickering along its length. Six, the ghoul-priest, and the ghoul horde stare up after it. Perhaps the only person more surprised than them is the ghost, who barely has time to stare before the sword slashes through its side, parting incorporeal matter without the slightest difficulty.

As the ghost screams in agony, Gareth opens his mouth to shout in exultation and triumph, before he realizes that he is falling. His fall is broken by a pair of unfortunate ghouls, but as he stumbles to his feet with a couple of bruises, the sword says, “Sorry.”

The ghost shouts commands and instantly, a number of _stinking cloud_s cover Gareth and the ghouls around him. Nearby Nameless, flying through the air but unable to see anything, tries to _summon_ some more stag beetles, but, unable to place the spell in the right area, fails. Feeling his spell fizzle, he swears again and then shouts, “What’s going on?”

“No time,” says Six, as he swings his chain to try and keep the ghoul-priest, which now focuses on him on the only target, at bay. “Tell your beetles to get the ghoul guy with the flaming hands. Now!”

Nameless complies, and Six darts out of the way of the huge beetles. And then follows in their wake, as they smash their way through the ghouls towards the altar. Having shouted the orders, Nameless tries to cast another spell, but the ghost is waiting, and a blast of cold interrupts the alienist, badly wounding him.

Below, the ghoul-priest stumbles backwards as the three stag beetles cut a thirty-foot wide swathe through the undead army, leaving only crushed and wounded ghouls or a trail of ash behind them. They clamber over the altar and down onto him and his surrounding ghouls, trying to follow Nameless’ order. 

But the priest of the Mockery, skilled martial artist in life and further empowered with the strength and agility of a ghoul in un-life, is far too adroit. He leaps, tumbles and dodges out of their way, leaving the beetles to blunder by. Looking up, he sees his ghostly ally flying closer to the blind figure of Nameless, and he can see the ghouls swarming into the cloud that surrounds Gareth. With a snarl of anticipation, he turns to look for the lone figure of Six, so that he can be dispatched and they can finally rise to ravage Sharn, as they have waited to do for centuries. To his surprise, Six is nowhere to be seen.

As the ghoul-priest looks around, he hears a whistling sound behind him and turns, to see Six perched on the back of one of the beetles. The belated realization that the crafty warforged had clambered up the back of a beetle, using it to clear his path and making it a temporary mount, passes through the ghoul-priest’s mind. And, a second later, so does Six’s chain.

The ghost, just about to cast a spell to blast his helpless target from the air, begins to scream in rage as he sees his compatriot collapse, but he never completes it. And as he does so, a silvery form erupts from the cloud below, driven by the Silver Flame. Gareth, pouring all of his power into the Eternal Blade before him, soars into and through the ghost, blasting it into nothingness.

As it falls apart, there is a soft sighing sound across the cavern, and as Gareth falls again, he lands on the ash that now covers it. Every ghoul has returned to the ash that formed it. A second later, the ash dissipates, falling into nothingness and leaving the chamber starkly empty.

As Gareth gazes around, the sword in his hand vibrates and a voice from it, sounding significantly less solemn than the version he heard in his head, shouts, “Yeah! Eat that, motherf**ker!” Gareth stares at it, and then gets a feeling of the sword staring back, as it quickly says, “Sorry – my bad! I never quite figured out how not to drop someone on his ass after that move.” There’s a moment’s pause, and then it says, “But you have to admit, it was f**king cool!”

Gareth stares at the sword, almost as shocked by what it says as he was at anything that occurred. While he struggles to formulate a response, Luna – who has emerged from her _cocoon_ and rushed to Korm to _cocoon_ him in turn – and Six walk over. “You can come on down. They’re all dead,” Six calls up to Nameless, who’s still trying to work out what has happened.

“The undead, right?” says Nameless. “Or are we going to have more room at the mansion?” He descends carefully and slowly, until his feet hit the ground, and Six guides him over.

“Hey!” says the sword excitedly, as they walk over. “You guys have a golem? Cool!”

“I’m not a golem,” begins Six, but Gareth interrupts, asking, “Are you the Eternal Blade?”

“Huh? No. I’m the Endless Blade. So who are you guys?”

“We were told that Jalus wielded something called the Eternal Blade,” persists Gareth.

“Nah! Somebody’s been giving you screwy info. But they’re close. It’s the Endless Blade. There’s no end to what I can be, see? Anyway, what year is it?”

Nameless, who’s had Six explain to him that the sword is speaking, chuckles at its tone and the expression which he – correctly – imagines on Gareth’s face. “998 YK.”

“998?” asks the sword in a horrified tone. “998? I’ve been stuck in that bloody altar for over five hundred years? Son … of … a … bitch!”

Luna, who’s getting as amused as Nameless and Six, changes back into her shifter form, which immediately distracts the sword. “Hey – it’s a babe, not a bear!” Though there is no physical manifestation, Luna feels its attention switch to her, and its tone shifts to what she might expect from a young man in a bar (albeit a fairly drunk one, considering Luna’s normal demeanor). “Hi, baby – how _you_ doing?” To the amusement of Six and Nameless, Luna emits a girlish giggle, and then walks away towards Korm, who has just emerged.

As she goes, the sword’s tone falls to a whisper. “Hey, man,” it says to Gareth, “It’s obviously been a while since I saw a girl, but is that the new style? I mean, she’s a little chunky, right?”

Six and Nameless burst out laughing, while Luna turns and mock-glares back. “I heard that!”

“Damn! Good hearing,” says the sword, as she continues on to Korm, to tell him what is going on.

Having stopped laughing, Six looks at the sword and asks, thinking about the problems that have occurred with various objects the group has encountered, especially Kizmet. “So, what exactly are you? Are you a spirit bound to a sword?”

“No, metal man - I’m a sword!” comes the sarcastic reply. “What the hell are you? A spirit bound to a statue?”

“No,” chuckles Six. “I’m a warforged.”

“What the crap is a warforged?”

“Can we get back to the mansion before we have history lessons?” asks Nameless. “I’d prefer not to be in the Depths while I’m blind, you know.” Korm and Luna walk up as he says this, carrying Jalus Baine’s remains.

“I just want to make sure we have everything we need,” says Gareth uncertainly. “So you are Jalus Baine’s sword?”

“Yeah, yeah, I already said so. Is that why you guys are down here? To look for him? It’s a little late, you know! And so is he!” The sword chuckles at its own humor.

“Jalus Baine is a hero of the Flame!” says Gareth indignantly.

“Did you know him?” snaps back the sword. “Just because I’m joking about it doesn’t mean I didn’t like him. Jalus was a nice guy. Had a little bit of a pole up his arse – kinda like you, I’m thinking. But a damn solid guy. Oh yeah, except for the lisp. Oh Flame, that lisp. You should have heard him…,” it’s voice changes, and it puts on a comically serious tone, “I am come to thave your thouls, in the name of the Thilver Flame!”

Six chuckles. “I like this sword.”

“You do not _sound_ like a holy weapon…,” begins Gareth, when the sword indignantly interrupts.

“Listen, buddy- I’m as f**king holy as the holiest f**king avenger, okay? Somebody needs to teach you not to judge things on appearance – or sound.” A little more calmly, the sword adds, “After all, you sound like a bit of an idiot, but you’ve got skills, and you evidently work for the Flame, which I was doing _way_ before your time. And that was a sweet little smiting you put on that ghost. So how about you be polite to me and I’ll be polite to you, okay? Since Jalus isn’t around any more, I need someone to wield me anyway.” 

A change of tone signals a shift to addressing the group, as the sword continues, “You folks seem like a pretty interesting bunch, anyway. So let’s head up to Sharn … wait a minute … Sharn is still there, right?”

“Yes,” says Six, “Though probably not what you remember.”

“No kidding! Damn – you guys are really going to have to catch me up on what I missed. Five hundred years!” 

“All right,” says Nameless. “Shall we head back to the Cathedral now?”

“I’ll get Deemin,” says Korm, taking wing and heading toward the exit.

“All right,” says Gareth, looking slightly unconvinced. “I don’t have a scabbard for you,” he adds to the sword.

“No biggie!” says the sword, shrinking into a dagger. “Size doesn’t matter.” Then it chuckles, and says, “But, just for the record, Luna – I _can_ be a greatclub.”

Luna laughs and Six looks at the Endless Blade and then at Gareth. “I think I am going to enjoy having you around.”

“Of course,” says the Blade confidently. “I’m f**king unbelievable.”


----------



## Sidekick

> “Of course,” says the Blade confidently. “I’m f**king unbelievable.”




I REALLY like this sword.

Inspired choice by the way. Perchance we could have the stats for this rather awesome holy weapon.

Sounds like one badd Muthaf*cka to me...


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> I REALLY like this sword.
> 
> Inspired choice by the way.




Thanks. This was one of those choices one feels quite happy about as a DM. I was thinking of a weapon to give Gareth to replace Kizmet, and I was thinking, "I definitely want it to be very different in nature. Holy would make sense, since Kizmet seemed holy but wasn't." And then I thought of something which was holy, but didn't seem like it. And then I imagined an intelligent sword going, "Yeah! Eat that - motherf**ker!"

And then I sat and cackled to myself for a bit. 



> Perchance we could have the stats for this rather awesome holy weapon.




Currently I have him down as a +1 Holy Morphing Ghost-Touch Weapon, w. Swift Fly 2/day; Int 14, Wis 16, Cha 14 and CG. 60 ft darkvision and hearing. Telepathy. 

I may change some of that around, but not very likely. Also, I really have no idea what Morphing as written (Underdark book, I believe) says, but it seems the right analogue to what I have the Endless Blade doing.

According to the DMG, a CG intelligent weapon can't be wielded by anyone who isn't CG. That's in the long list of rules I'm ignoring.

Currently, I'm giving each of the PCs one or two unique items, like Six and his warforged harness and the floating eye, or Luna and the belt of Greater Magic Fang that works with her in wildshape and her two symbionts, etc. This one is Gareth's. All told, each of the PCs is toting around about 200,000 gp worth of magical equipment and enhancements. Someday they'll be mugged while walking down the street by a horde of XP-hungry artificers.



> Sounds like one badd Muthaf*cka to me...




Precisely


----------



## Sidekick

shilsen said:
			
		

> Currently I have him down as a +1 Holy Morphing Ghost-Touch Weapon, w. Swift Fly 2/day; Int 14, Wis 16, Cha 14 and CG. 60 ft darkvision and hearing. Telepathy.
> 
> I may change some of that around, but not very likely. Also, I really have no idea what Morphing as written (Underdark book, I believe) says, but it seems the right analogue to what I have the Endless Blade doing.
> 
> According to the DMG, a CG intelligent weapon can't be wielded by anyone who isn't CG. That's in the long list of rules I'm ignoring.
> 
> Currently, I'm giving each of the PCs one or two unique items, like Six and his warforged harness and the floating eye, or Luna and the belt of Greater Magic Fang that works with her in wildshape and her two symbionts, etc. This one is Gareth's. All told, each of the PCs is toting around about 200,000 gp worth of magical equipment and enhancements. Someday they'll be mugged while walking down the street by a horde of XP-hungry artificers.



Ditching a DMG rule - perish the thought   

That sounds like a fun sword. Consider that baby *YOINKED*.

Also what does the WF harness do again? sounds familiar but I can't for the life of me remeber it nor where Six got it.

Also, its nice to see another DM who isn;t particularly bovvered with the wealth by level "rules".


----------



## Rackhir

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Also what does the WF harness do again? sounds familiar but I can't for the life of me remeber it nor where Six got it.




He got it from our journey to Skull Island, the place where we found the Shard and battled the Dragon and the Dalkyr. We fought some ancient warforged who had them on and found out that they also contained a self destruction mechanisim that we removed from the one we were able to recover for Six's use.

Six is up in the Rogues Gallery. 



			
				Sidekick said:
			
		

> Also, its nice to see another DM who isn;t particularly bovvered with the wealth by level "rules".




Well a fair amount of the "wealth" that the characters have is essentially what I call "hand waving" stuff. IE. where you just go "Yeah, yeah you've got/can do that." 

For example the Inherent slotless stat boosts. That's 96k gold for those, but essentially what it does is mean that we don't have to worry about taking or casting the stat boost spells or how long they last. So it effecively is a method of simplifying the accounting and reducing what people have to keep track of. 

Another example is the fact that Nameless now has access to essentially all of the PHB Wizard spells. Nominally, this gets up into silly amounts of money, but in practice he's still taking the same spells he was when he just had SMVI, Disintegrate and True Seeing for 6th lv spells. With only 3 sixth level slots available and one of them having to be a conjuration spell, there just isn't that many options for taking too much else.


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Ditching a DMG rule - perish the thought
> 
> That sounds like a fun sword. Consider that baby *YOINKED*.




Cool. Hope you have fun with it.



> Also what does the WF harness do again? sounds familiar but I can't for the life of me remeber it nor where Six got it.




He found it on the island during the Xen'drik expedition, on one of the proto-warforged they fought. When the PCs dropped them, the harness on them would explode, doing damage to everybody nearby. Luna, I think, grabbed one before it hit the ground, and Corven managed to deactivate and remove the harness. Six tried it on and found it gave him some nice boosts, and then, when he tried to take it off a few weeks later, found it was attached to him. It gives him some nice benefits, but both PC and player are a little paranoid about it.

To quote the player: "It's a really nice item and it's your game, Shil - so I know it's going to screw me!" I find this lack of trust ... disturbing.

Mechanically, what it does right now is increase his composite plating’s armor bonus (Six has neither Mithral Body nor Adamantine Body feats) to +4 and also provides a +2 enhancement bonus to armor. It increases his immunity to criticals to 75%. And also provides immunity to nonlethal damage. In short, it's like a warforged usable version of +2 Chain Shirt of Moderate Fortification, with no upper limit on Dex bonus to AC, and with immunity to nonlethal damage. On the downside, it occupies both amulet and belt slots, and is currently unremovable.



> Also, its nice to see another DM who isn;t particularly bovvered with the wealth by level "rules".




More like a DM who took the wealth by level rules out behind the wood pile and beat them till they stopped moving  

On top of what I already mentioned, I've completely stopped tracking healing between fights or even charging the PCs for it. I simply assume they have enough healing wands and such on them that if they have time after a fight, they heal up back to full. Considering how loaded they are, tracking charges on a 750 gp wand of Lesser Vigor is just not worth it for me.

Anyway, the wealth bit in the DMG is a suggested guideline, more than real rules, and I'm already doing enough stuff that should have cracked this game wide open. Just the fact that the PCs normally only have one encounter in a given game day, and are often in places where they know that and use resources accordingly, should theoretically be a big problem for me in challenging them. And then on top of that you have swashbuckling cards, extra high stats, the UA metamagic rules (which mean far easier use of metamagic and that the two druids are casting 2 spells a round 3/day each), etc. But that's never been a problem, even though I've restricted myself to core material for the NPCs for the majority of the campaign (I've recently started using a lot more non-core material, since the PCs are now very seriously buff). This is why I maintain that while there are certain assumptions in the core D&D rules in 3e, a DM who understands the nuts and bolts can very easily mess with them to a great extent, with no problem whatsoever.

Anyway, speaking of challenging, how tough a challenge do you think two halfling Ftr2/Rgr2/Rog3s and a Bbn1/Warblade7 could be for Korm, Luna and Gareth, assuming both parties are well-buffed? That's what we found out last session.


----------



## Vorput

> As the ghoul-priest looks around, he hears a whistling sound behind him and turns, to see Six perched on the back of one of the beetles. The belated realization that the crafty warforged had clambered up the back of a beetle, using it to clear his path and making it a temporary mount, passes through the ghoul-priest’s mind. And, a second later, so does Six’s chain.




Hehe, good times...


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> Hehe, good times...




It's worth noting that while Luna gets dropped in almost every battle. Korm, Gareth and Nameless regularly get beaten with an inch of their lives. Six often sustains little or no damage in battles...


----------



## Sidekick

shilsen said:
			
		

> Anyway, speaking of challenging, how tough a challenge do you think two halfling Ftr2/Rgr2/Rog3s and a Bbn1/Warblade7 could be for Korm, Luna and Gareth, assuming both parties are well-buffed? That's what we found out last session.



Heh - with you doing the stating I'd say rather deadly indeed.

Feel like emailing me those stats? I could sure use a group of NPCs to scare my group into respecting Boromar. 

Don't get me wrong they respect them in a "ohh the political power and goons they can hire" way rather than a "Well F-me I ain't messing with those halfling thugs - even if they are only 3ft tall!!" kind of way.

hmm barbarian1/warblade7. That sounds cruchyliscious.


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Heh - with you doing the stating I'd say rather deadly indeed.




So say my players. I was informed during the session by a couple of them that when they next need to make PCs, they're just going to say, "Can you send me what you used for [insert NPC here]?" and use them 



> Feel like emailing me those stats? I could sure use a group of NPCs to scare my group into respecting Boromar.




I added them to the Rogues Gallery here. Have fun with them, and if you have any questions, throw them up on that thread and I'll try to answer. 



> Don't get me wrong they respect them in a "ohh the political power and goons they can hire" way rather than a "Well F-me I ain't messing with those halfling thugs - even if they are only 3ft tall!!" kind of way.




It's now become established fact in my game that the shorter the enemy, the deadlier it is. And that has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I'm 5 ft 4. 



> hmm barbarian1/warblade7. That sounds cruchyliscious.




Yes, it was. It could have been worse than I made it, but the thing I like about Bo9S is that you can use maneuvers/stances to create any theme of warrior, and it feels wrong to just cherry-pick the maneuvers without them tying together somehow. I envisioned Halak as a ferocious fighter, focused on taking down larger (he's a halfling, after all) opponents with high damage moves, with a limited ability to inspire allies via his example.


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

All caught up now, so it makes sense to finally post.  Definitely a fun read.  I've got a few questions for you Shil, if you don't mind.    

1.  What would you have done differently if the PCs decided to become "permanent guardians" of the Key?  (It would've made the group name even more appropriate).  Seems they played right into the rakshasa's hands on that one; to be honest, with a paladin, two Gatekeepers, and someone who is intimately familiar with crazy, mind-warping world-shaping outsiders, I'm surprised they didn't even consider it.

2.  Do you use a high point buy for NPCs to match your PCs, do you stick with elite array, or just assign stats arbitrarily?  Same question for monsters?

3.  A general question for both you, Shil, and the players:  everyone seems content right now to offer services to various contacts throughout the city.  Being the most powerful characters in Sharn, does anyone have Bigger Plans (tm)?  Maybe Gareth wants a more powerful political position in the Church?  Nameless looking for more respect from the Guild?  Maybe Six will use his newfound citizenship and artistic clout to mingle with muckity-mucks and garner himself a powerful bureaucratic position?  Basically, what are the PCs Big Plans?  We don't hear about them as much as I'd like.   

4.  Not actually a question, but shil, if I ever get to play under you, it's a mercenary Valenar elf with secret nationalistic ties and plans to carve out a sizable chunk of Khorvaire for himself.  Just thought you should know.


----------



## shilsen

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> All caught up now, so it makes sense to finally post. Definitely a fun read.




Thanks. I'll have another instalment up today.



> I've got a few questions for you Shil, if you don't mind.




Of course I mind! Haven't you noticed how shy and completely reticent I am when it comes to discussing my game?



> 1.  What would you have done differently if the PCs decided to become "permanent guardians" of the Key?  (It would've made the group name even more appropriate).  Seems they played right into the rakshasa's hands on that one; to be honest, with a paladin, two Gatekeepers, and someone who is intimately familiar with crazy, mind-warping world-shaping outsiders, I'm surprised they didn't even consider it.




In general, I would have just rolled with it. Right from the beginning of the campaign, I had decided - and told my players about it - that I was explicitly not going to design a campaign with a predetermined overarching plot. I was just going to throw a lot of things out there and see what the PCs decided to follow, and that's what the campaign would be about. I had some things in place beforehand based on the characters' backgrounds (esp. Gareth's possessed sword and the daelkyr influence in Nameless' head), but how and why those would emerge depended on the PCs' choices. The entire Key thing actually came up very abruptly, since the PCs suddenly decided to run off to Xen'drik just as I was seeing them getting nicely embroiled in Sharn politics.

So, more specifically, if the PCs had decided to become permanent guardians of the Key, Zathara would probably have stayed in the background and tried to use them to learn more about the Key before making his move. He'd have done so eventually, but it could have been after months or even years of game time. The reason he moved more quickly than he'd originally planned was because he was concerned what the Gatekeepers might do with it.



> 2.  Do you use a high point buy for NPCs to match your PCs, do you stick with elite array, or just assign stats arbitrarily?  Same question for monsters?




For the majority of NPCs, I just stick with the elite array, and the same goes for monsters (i.e. straight out of the MM if non-classed, or with elite array if classed). Instead of using the 15, 14, 13, 12, 10, 8 set, however, I use the same 72 pts but divided up as I feel fit. For especially skilled NPCs, I will go with between 74-76 pts divided among the stats before racial modifiers. Only if the PCs are up against an exceptional enemy (the rakshasas, for example) do I use 78+ pts divided among the stats before racial modifiers.

The one thing I do to make the NPCs a little tougher is to usually assign a flat 75% of the random hp rather than actually rolling, e.g. an NPC with 6d8+18 hp would get 36 on the 6d8 automatically, so a total of 54 hp.



> 3.  A general question for both you, Shil, and the players:  everyone seems content right now to offer services to various contacts throughout the city.  Being the most powerful characters in Sharn, does anyone have Bigger Plans (tm)?  Maybe Gareth wants a more powerful political position in the Church?  Nameless looking for more respect from the Guild?  Maybe Six will use his newfound citizenship and artistic clout to mingle with muckity-mucks and garner himself a powerful bureaucratic position?  Basically, what are the PCs Big Plans?  We don't hear about them as much as I'd like.




The players can probably answer this one better than I can, but I think I can safely say that most of them don't really seem to have bigger plans right now. Luna and Korm are esp. so, being quite happy as long as they're getting a certain amount of action. Nameless, I think, is just interested in increasing his personal puissance till tentacles come out his head  Gareth has some interest in cleaning up the Sharn Deneith slowly, but isn't really that involved with them. 

Amusingly, Six is the one who has the most big plans in the sense you mean, though he's keeping it on the down low and has never really discussed them with others. He's simultaneously interested in finding out the real origins of the warforged and finding some sort of a warforged homeland, and possibly even restarting a creation forge. Yes, Six just might become the next Lord of Blades 



> 4.  Not actually a question, but shil, if I ever get to play under you, it's a mercenary Valenar elf with secret nationalistic ties and plans to carve out a sizable chunk of Khorvaire for himself.  Just thought you should know.




Thanks for the warning  I love the Valenar and in general what Keith Baker did with the elves and their variant types of ancestor worship. 

Tell you what - if you ever drop by Philly, I'll let you NPC a militant (is there any other kind) Valenar elf and either hire or try to kill the PCs.


----------



## Rackhir

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> 1.  What would you have done differently if the PCs decided to become "permanent guardians" of the Key?  (It would've made the group name even more appropriate).  Seems they played right into the rakshasa's hands on that one; to be honest, with a paladin, two Gatekeepers, and someone who is intimately familiar with crazy, mind-warping world-shaping outsiders, I'm surprised they didn't even consider it.




The problem with keeping the key was that it was clear we couldn't protect it (it was stolen twice). We couldn't leave it behind (we had to be within x miles of it every 24 hrs or so) making it a royal pain in the #$##@ on that score. Then nobody else in Sharn was powerful enough to make a good guardian for it (at least that Nameless was willing to trust with it). Finally, with the things we did and the places we went, it was too dangerous to risk it falling into the hands of the things we went up against, like it did when Nameless was captured by in Yakun'Dral. Which quite concievably could have been nearly as bad as what the Rakshasa's were up to.

Nameless in particular knew (though nobody else did) that a similar shard was at least partially responsible for the Day of Mourning, so he was loath to risk anything like that happening again if he could prevent it. The Gatekeepers seemed like our best options as they were the only people we knew who were actually more powerful than we were and whom we (or at least Nameless) could trust with something like that.

Also both Luna and Six have severe allergic reactions to anything that restricts them or imposes any responsibilities on them. 



			
				GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> 3.  A general question for both you, Shil, and the players: everyone seems content right now to offer services to various contacts throughout the city. Being the most powerful characters in Sharn, does anyone have Bigger Plans (tm)? Nameless looking for more respect from the Guild? Basically, what are the PCs Big Plans?  We don't hear about them as much as I'd like.




Being the "most powerful characters in Sharn" in Shil's campaign isn't all it's cracked up to be.  As we've had demonstrated twice recently, it gives us only at best a slight edge. The listing in the Rogue's Gallery thread for the halfling boomerang guys for example, doesn't really give you a good idea of how nasty they were in combat and how close they came to taking down Korm, Luna and Gareth, without them even getting a chance to act. The Casters have somewhat more of an edge since their level means that we can access higher level spells than almost of the other casters in the city.

Shil has it pretty much right at least with regards to Nameless. He has no Big Plans, past a desire to transcend (Ie, hit 10th in Alienist and become an outsider). Actually, he has one other ambition. To become powerful enough to safely walk the streets of Sharn. I'm currently estimating this will require him to make it well into Epic levels to pull that off though...


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

shilsen said:
			
		

> Tell you what - if you ever drop by Philly, I'll let you NPC a militant (is there any other kind) Valenar elf and either hire or try to kill the PCs.




Funny you should say that.  My long-time gf is from Newtown, PA and I'm looking at law school in the Philly area.  Who knows, two-three years time you might find me knocking on your door!



			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> The problem with keeping the key was that it was clear we couldn't protect it (it was stolen twice). We couldn't leave it behind (we had to be within x miles of it every 24 hrs or so) making it a royal pain in the #$##@ on that score. Then nobody else in Sharn was powerful enough to make a good guardian for it (at least that Nameless was willing to trust with it).




Yup.  I remember all that.      I just got the impression that becoming "permanent guardians" of the Key would have some added benefits, similar to the transcendence offered by the dying coatl.  Maybe the Key would've shucked it's physical shackles and embedded itself into each of your souls.  Or maybe you would've just had to lug it around for even longer.  What do I know?   



			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> Being the "most powerful characters in Sharn" in Shil's campaign isn't all it's cracked up to be.




Believe me, I can empathize.  Back in a college campaign we hit 14th level, but our DM had a way of making us feel like we were 4th.

The comment about character power level aside, your PCs seem content offering their services and being hired for various jobs around the city.  Not a criticism, just an observation.  Judging from what I've read, the game seems very open-ended, which is always the kind of game I love to play in.


----------



## shilsen

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Funny you should say that.  My long-time gf is from Newtown, PA and I'm looking at law school in the Philly area.  Who knows, two-three years time you might find me knocking on your door!




I'll consider myself forewarned 



> Yup.  I remember all that.      I just got the impression that becoming "permanent guardians" of the Key would have some added benefits, similar to the transcendence offered by the dying coatl.  Maybe the Key would've shucked it's physical shackles and embedded itself into each of your souls.  Or maybe you would've just had to lug it around for even longer.  What do I know?




You know just about as much as me, actually. One way that I keep my degree of preparation under control is by just deciding upon things when I need to. Since the PCs never took up the permanent guardianship, I never bothered.



> Believe me, I can empathize.  Back in a college campaign we hit 14th level, but our DM had a way of making us feel like we were 4th.






I think it's safe to say that when I can't keep challenging my PCs with theoretically much easier encounters is the day I quit DMing.



> The comment about character power level aside, your PCs seem content offering their services and being hired for various jobs around the city.  Not a criticism, just an observation.  Judging from what I've read, the game seems very open-ended, which is always the kind of game I love to play in.




Same here. A lot of my DMing (which I actually had very little experience of before this campaign and the overlapping Eberron campaign I started running for another group about half a year before this one) is based on the kind of game I would enjoy being part of. And a seriously open-ended campaign is very high on the list.

Anyhow, enough talk, and on to the next instalment...

* * * * * *
*Between sessions (handled via email/forums):*

Despite being blind, Nameless is able to _teleport_ the entire group (albeit with some of them having to give Jalus Baine’s corpse company in the _portable hole_) to the Cathedral, significantly scaring a couple of guards. The group is quickly ushered into a waiting area and soon brought to a meeting room, where Ythana Morr is waiting. Having been informed of Nameless’ condition, she has a scroll to _remove blindness_, which she uses on him, after thanking Deemin and dismissing him. 

The Archierophant is exceedingly pleased at the recovery of Jalus Baine’s body, which she has four acolytes carefully remove to one of the private sanctums, and seems quite impressed at the group’s destruction of the undead horde, the unholy altar and the tree of woe. She is, however, just as puzzled by the sword, whose first introduction to her is when it pipes up and says, “So – you the big chick in this temple, right? Nice place you have here!”

Once she has heard the entire story, Ythana asks Gareth and the others to give her a few minutes with the sword. Those outside can hear the low mumbling of speech through the door. After a couple of minutes, there is the sound of her raised voice, saying, “You cannot speak to me li…,” but then it is lowered. The two voices get softer and after a couple of minutes, the door opens to reveal Ythana, her face looking slightly redder than normal. She invites the group back in and says to them all, “Thank you for the work you have done. The blessings of the Flame are on you, but then you already know that after your previous experiences in the Wastes.” Turning to Gareth, she adds, “I shall arrange for Jalus’ body to be laid to rest in the proper fashion.” She hesitates for only a second, and then says, “But you may keep the sword. If you wish.” The sword, now lying on the table, promptly says, “Yeah! You need to get me out o…,” and then falls silent at a glare from her.

Gareth replies, “It was an honor to serve the Flame, and I am always happy to help again. That area was a blight on the existence of all, and it felt good removing it. I think the only thing better would be to banish some evil entity from our realm of existence.” He picks up the Eternal Blade and sheathes it, asking, “Is there anything I need to know about him?” 

Even before Ythana can reply, the sword says, “Hey! I _am_ right here, you know!” The Archierophant says, “I know little about the Eternal …,” at which point the sword interrupts and says, “Endless!” She sighs and says, “…Endless Blade, and I gather he will be happy to tell you whatever you need to know.” Though it doesn’t move, Gareth gets the impression of the sword nodding and hears a soft, _”Damn right!”_ in his head.

The group departs, the sword commenting as they leave, “Now there’s a broad who seriously needs to get a greatsword in her scabbard, if you know what I’m saying!” As they are about to depart the Cathedral, the acolyte Golar stops them and says he has a message for Gareth. A bugbear stopped by asking for him, and left him a message. The message is scrawled, badly written, on a sheet of parchment, and says, “To paladin Gareth, and others of the Guardian Angels – I do request meet you at the Cracked Mirror inn [note: the inn that the group had visited shortly after reaching Sharn, where they met the shifter brothers] in Callestan. I will be there for three next days from 10 morning to noon. I will pay for your time. Dhurmhaac.” Golar says that he has never seen the bugbear before, but describes him as elderly and very muscular, dressed in laborers’ clothes. The description does not ring a bell for any of the Angels.

“Well, I do not know who this person is,” says Gareth, “But we should stop there later to see why I was summoned. It may be a quest worthy of us.”

The group heads back to the Gray House and, on the ride back, the sword reminds them three times that they need to get him to a library, comments four times on the skycoaches in particular and the changed look of Sharn in general, and asks Six a dozen questions about exactly what he is, especially regarding what he does for “pooping” and sex.

Back at the Gray House, Fett is waiting for the group. Before he settles down to hear about their adventures – and be roundly amused by the sword – he gives them a message that was delivered for them by a nondescript looking halfling. This message is hand-written too, but comes in a sealed envelope. It says, “To Gareth, the bastard Flamer: If you’ve got the balls to back up your words to my boss, come face me in the Burning Ring. Bring your buddies. They can join in if they want or patch you up afterwards, since I’ll try not to kill you. Talk to the halfling with the green hat at the corner of the Changeling’s Kiss in Firelight at 8 pm on the 5th, and he’ll show you where it is. They’ll be saving a place for us. If you’ve got the balls, that is.” It is signed HB.

The Angels presume that it is from Halak Boromar, the ‘security chief’ they met at the Boromar residence. Fett says that the Burning Ring is a place that offers gladiatorial combat, featuring amateur and professional warriors and, much more rarely, monsters. It has no fixed location shifting from place to place in the districts of Firelight or Torchfire in Lower Menthis. The Watch has tried to shut it down, but it always finds somewhere else to function. Fett’s description reminds the Angels that when Balan had offered them some jobs to shave time off Nameless’ time in custody, one offer was to help crack down on gladiatorial combat in Sharn. 

Looking at the rest of the group, Gareth comments, “For the record, that is _not_ a worthy quest for us. If, on the other hand, we want to speak with Balan to arrange some form of sting operation, I would be more than happy to participate. Fighting Halak, who seems to be a petulant guard – I think not. Actually, at the very least, we can let Balan know about this event.”

Evidently, it is a time for messages, since three more arrive the next day. Or two, to be precise, since one is a copy of the Korranberg Chronicle, with the first story about the Guardian Angels’ adventures. This one details the trip to Xen’drik and the travel to the island. It is fairly well written and has effectively no embellishment. 

The first of the other two messages, borne by an Orien courier, is a sealed package. Within is an ornate letter, which invites the Guardian Angels to the Tain Gala in Skyway, the part of the city that floats above the highest towers, on the 6th. It provides directions to the Tain mansion there. 

Gareth immediately recognizes this as the huge monthly fest he has heard of, where the Sixty Families of Sharn are perpetually invited. When Fett, who is going out the door on some work, hears about the invitation, he laughs and says, “Oh boy – this means you’ve really arrived in high society! My group went there once, and I think it’s safe to say that it scared the heck out of some of us as much as our worst battle. But I had a great time. I’ll tell you about it when I get back.”

Gareth grumbles, “All this pomp and dance takes away from more solid goals. I take it we need to go to this one. At some point we have to stop taking invitations.” He makes a mental note to invite Lalia, and says, “I will bring Lalia. Korm, if you don’t mind getting dressed up, I might be able to get you a date.” Gareth smiles. “You may need to shave though.”

“What?!” 
After being reassured that Gareth is joking, Korm agrees to the idea. When Gareth broaches it to Lalia later, so does she, saying Tasra will be happy to go with Korm.

Later, another messenger stops by, this one a more familiar – and less welcome – one. It is Killian’s messenger Flan. He greets the Angels cheerfully, compliments them on their recent fame, and says he has a short message from Killian, namely, “I have some information about your ‘short friends.’ If you’re interested, stop by the Lucky Nines and say ‘hello.’” 

Gareth says simply, “We will stop by there at the usual time to hear his information,” and leaves it at that. 

Meanwhile, when he has a chance, Fett also talks to Six privately about a couple of the things the warforged had asked him to do. “I personally delivered the sculpture to the Boromar estate,” he says, “And I received a note for you from them yesterday, delivered by Orien courier.” 

Opening the note, Six finds it to say, “Thank you for your kind gesture. As you can expect, my father was highly offended by your companion’s comments, but I have calmed him down and you should not fear any repercussions from his end. While I do not expect to see your group working for him, I am sure we can coexist peacefully if we do ever happen to interact. If I can ever be of aid to you in some way, please let me know. Ilyra Boromar.”

Fett also says that he has arranged a meeting with the Tyrants, for a couple of days later. It is at an inn called Velvet’s in the Dragoneyes red light district of Lower Tavick’s, which is the base of operations for the Tyrants, he says. “I will have to go along with you,” says Fett. After a slight hesitation, he adds, “I hope that you aren’t going to have me do too many things that you will want me to keep from the others, since that might lead to trouble. I can especially see Gareth taking it badly.” He grins and adds, “Though he’s not going to be reading my mind again any time soon,” and indicates a ring on his left hand. “I had been planning to pick up a _ring of mind shielding_ for a while, so I finally did. I’m sure he doesn’t see how invasive it is, but I have some issues being around a person who can know what I’m thinking.”

Six says dismissively, “Eh – don’t worry so much about the secrecy. We will be driven out of Sharn soon, rendering this moot. By the way, how much are those _ring_s _of mind shielding_?”

Fett laughs. “At least you’re confident. And the rings generally go for about eight thousand galifars or so. It’s not exactly an unpopular magic item about changelings, though few can afford one.”

“All right. Oh, one more thing – make an escape route from some common area of Sharn to the outskirts. Don’t tell me or anyone else about the details. Just let me know when it is set up.”

Fett looks pensive. “Hmmm – that’s difficult, because of the way the city is built. Still, I’ll try to think of something.”

He also has some information about the Cogs for Six. He explains that the Cogs are really the industrial base of Sharn, where the forges and foundries lie. Most people don’t live in the Cogs, usually traveling there to work and leaving again. The majority of the large businesses are owned by the nobles and merchant princes of the Upper City. Nolan Toranak, the dwarven council representative from the Cogs, mainly represents the wishes of these rich owners. He’s also well-known for disliking warforged, having lost his children to them during the War. 

A fairly constant population of the Cogs are the warforged workers. Some of them congregate at the Red Hammer Inn, whose owners Blue and Crucible are two of the more prominent leaders, as is the warforged priest Smith (who tends a shrine to Onatar, god of Artifice and the Forge, called the Pool of Onatar’s Tears in Blackbones). Fett suggests that if he wants to know about the warforged situation and the Cogs in general, he talk to them. Fett has met them, since the Blades of Arakhain worked with Smith in helping Merrix d’Cannith enact the proposal to the warforged and persuade the City Council to let it pass. Six won’t need to set up a meeting, but should just visit, since Smith is usually at his shrine and the other pair are often at the inn.

He continues, to say that neither Boromar nor Daask have any real influence in the Cogs, or at least the two industrial Cogs. That is not true of Khyber’s Gate, which is the central Cogs area, where all the criminals and fugitives in the undercity congregate. There is no central authority there, but Daask is the most powerful force, and that is where they are based.

Fett says that Daask has apparently just put out the word that they’ve rendered the Guardian Angels a non-threat to their operations, and they seem to be stepping up local recruitment. There has been no recent mention of the Angels by the Boromars, but then again, the dinner at their estate occurred only a few days ago.

Six notes the information, trying to decide how to make use of it. Over the next couple of days, he visits a number of people and places around the city, sometimes with others and sometimes alone. Much of the time, his aim is to find out about the harness from the island, which is now firmly attached to him. Even though it provides significant protection to him, Six is somewhat worried about whether it has any connection to the binding magic, like that with the Shard, which has plagued the Angels in various ways. Unsure whether elemental binding has any connections to such binding, he spends a lot of time researching it.

Six’s first stop is Morgrave University’s library, where he mostly just finds more detailed information about elemental binding to much what he knows. It says that the gnomes of Zilargo have always controlled the information about elemental binding, and it’s their biggest economic secret. Though they work with Houses Cannith, Lyrandar and Orient on many elemental-bound devices and transportation vessels, they do not share the information about binding with the dragonmarked houses. The binding of the rakshasa rajahs at the end of the Age of Demons or of the daelkyr into Khyber by the Gatekeepers really has no relationship at all to elemental binding, sharing a word but not much else. 

During one of the visits to Morgrave University, Six also speaks to Flamewind. He tells her everything about the prophecy and the rakshasas, and asks her about the harness. The gynosphinx is fascinated by the story, but especially in the fact that one had managed to get her (and apparently Sora Teraza) to have a fake prophecy. She says she has no idea how that could be done, and thinks it’s likely to have occurred through some specific item the rakshasa had, rather than through a spell. Flamewind also has no idea about the harness, never having seen one like it before, but she does admit that she isn’t particularly knowledgeable about magical items, but simply picks up things about them via her visions. 

She also uses a _legend lore_ (which all gynosphinxes can) and an _analyze dweomer_ (unique to her) on the harness. The former reveals nothing about the harness, which is evidently not important enough, but the latter says what Six already knows, that it is a kind of item that attaches itself to and grows with its owner. There is no aspect of binding that she detects, however.

Six also visits the old kalashtar Havakhad, whom he finds at the Shrine of Il-Yannah, as always. Havakhad, however, is quite ill, due simply to old age. He says that the Sharn kalashtar have had nothing major occur with the quori over the intervening months. His divinations reveal that they had some plan after his – hoped for – death at the hands of the Angels, but they have shelved it for now and are simply waiting for him to die naturally. Time, after all, isn’t a big concern for them. As for the harness, he knows nothing about it.

Six also gets to take part in what is becoming a regular habit for him, i.e. an argument with Gareth. This time, however, he is mainly a bystander, since the argument is between Gareth and his new sword. When the Eternal Blade is speaking to Six about all the biological things Six is curious about, Gareth silences it, saying that this discussion is inappropriate. Or at least, he tries to.

“Oh, come on, Gareth! Okay, fine!” says the sword. Then it says, “Hey, metal man! Yeah, you – Six. Want to take a walk?” 

“I’m not just handing you over to Six,” says Gareth indignantly. The sword chuckles, “Try stopping me!” and promptly begins to alternately expand and contract into various weapons, while singing really crude songs loudly.

Irritated, Gareth grabs the sword and opens his magical haversack, saying, “That will keep him quiet.”

“Hey!” yells the sword, as Gareth is trying to do so. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Or not if you’re expecting to ever be able to use me again.”

“Why won’t I be able to use you again?” asks Gareth.

This time, the sword’s tone isn’t at all jocular. “Because I won’t allow you to. Let’s understand something here, Gareth - this is a partnership. You wield me because I let you, and I am used by you because you choose to do so.”

“Remember, I’m not just a piece of metal like Six’s chain or Korm’s sword. I’m sentient. And while I don’t react to things exactly the way you do, there are some similarities. How would you like it if someone stuck you inside a bag, with no light, no sound, and nothing to do but wait till you were pulled out?”

“I’m not asking you to appreciate my opinion or sense of humor. Flame knows I don’t exactly appreciate yours. Or rather, I think it was removed when you were a child. But that’s not my problem. All I need to know is that you’ll do the right thing when we’re in a fight, and the rest of the time, you can do whatever the bloody hell you choose. And I expect you to treat me the same way.” 

“And since you don’t need me right now, take me out of the scabbard and give me to Six. And don’t ever – _ever_ - put me in a bloody extradimensional space without asking me about it. Or you’ll never use me again. Or not without way more ass kissing than I think you might like.”

Acting as stern as possible, but trying to be as diplomatic as he can, Gareth says, “Fair enough.  I will not place you in a bag and I did not realize your point of view, but I need you by my side. I cannot walk around weaponless, for I do not know when I will get attacked – or have you not noticed in your short time here that I am not the most liked person by the Sharn underworld?” 

“Really?” says the sword, in a sarcastic tone. “I am shocked. Completely shocked.”

Gareth ignores the comment and continues, “I will give you a compromise – you behave yourself in other company, meaning those not of this group, and you stop trying to trollop off and I will take you to the library and where you would like to go. This is obviously based on time permissions. I do spend quite a bit of time in the library studying. Do we have an agreement?” After a second, he adds with a grin, “Oh, one more thing – I realize you can see your surroundings but how did you plan on turning the pages in the book?”

“That’s why I’d be going there with Six, genius!” says the sword, before adding, “And we don’t have an agreement yet,” though its tone is a lot friendlier. “Like I said, you don’t have to use me and I don’t have to have you as a wielder. This is just something which is convenient for us both. Part of that means you don’t own me. Sometimes, I might want to spend some time around someone else, and I’ll expect you to respect it, just like I’ll respect it when you need my services.”

“And you don’t need me when you’re sitting around at home, and you really, _really_ need to have some kinda other weapon! I mean, come on!” It chuckles and adds, “I appreciate you being so attached to me and all, but we just met. It’s way too early for a commitment!”

“I’ll hang around with you right now, but when you’re going to bed, hand me over to Six. Hey, Six!” The sword is clearly addressing Six now. “You said you don’t sleep, right? Cool! Me neither. We’ll chat then.” Its attention switches back to Gareth. “See - he doesn’t sleep either, so we can keep each other entertained while you’re snoring. Perfect.” 

Getting quite annoyed with the sword, Gareth snaps, “A two way street, yes, but you are demanding a bit much – and you are not in the best of positions to make demands from me. Trust me, there is a nice vault the Silver Flame would love to keep you in and the only thing preventing that is me using you to fell the evil in this world. That is not a threat of punishment from me, but that is what the Silver Flame is likely to do. They would rather keep you safe in a vault than have you out there being used.”

The sword sniffs dismissively. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Go talk to your lady friend at the Cathedral about it.” 

Gareth continues, “If you want to speak with Six while I am sleeping, fine, but when I am awake or we are on a quest you are at my side. My schedule, as the rest, fluctuates and I will not sit and wait for you to get back. As for multiple swords, I carry one.” Thinking for a moment, he adds, “By the way, there is another reason you need to remain with me at an almost consistent basis – you have been attuned to me. You have some extra abilities imbued in you – these abilities will grow in power as I grow in power.”

“Huh!” says the sword, “Or maybe you grow in power as I grow in power. It’s been 500 years for me, you know. It’ll take a while for me to get back in form, so maybe you’re just leeching off me.”

Six, who has been finding the argument quite amusing, leans over to Gareth. “You do realize EB here is a being, not an object, right? One of the many implications is that it may be no more ‘attuneable’ to you than Nameless is. You need to check out your assumptions.” Six thinks about his recent research into binding magic, but doesn’t mention it.

“Yeah, Six - you tell him!” says the Endless Blade. There’s a slight pause and then the sword says, “Okay, okay - so I’m attuneable. But that doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do.”

Gareth ignores it and gives Six a dirty look, before hefting the sword and activating the flaming ability he can imbue it with. “I am pretty sure my assumptions are correct. So please stop questioning me at every angle unless you can offer expert advice.”

Six shrugs. “Other than the first time you lost your sword, I don’t question you. I just point out what is in front of you. I’m just a simple scout.”

“Well, I am glad you have a lot of humility,” says Gareth, “But you have questioned me at many points. You have a habit of doing that when it comes to me and with topics which you have no expertise or experience in.”

“Hey!” interrupts the sword indignantly. “You play nice with Six. I’m beginning to like his shiny metal ass!”

And the flaming ability promptly shuts off.

Surprised, Gareth looks at the sword and then back at Six, before explaining, “I was simply proving my point about having attuned you to me. I didn’t mean any harm.” A little sourly, he adds, “Even though you seem to be arguing with me about everything nowadays, Six.”

Six holds his peace and Gareth continues, “As I said, I have no problem with the two of you talking while I’m sleeping. I just don’t want you to leave the house during that time. If something happens to you, I won’t have the Blade to go after you, and if something happens here before you return, I’ll need him too. Is that okay?”

The Blade says, “Okay, fine – but you better take me to the library tomorrow.” Six agrees too, and Gareth hands the sword over before going to bed.

While he sleeps, the sword and Six spend hours sitting and talking, most of it spent with Six answering the Blade’s questions about Khorvaire’s current situation and giving him a detailed coverage of the Angels’ activities and the people they have met.

The Blade listens with interest and amusement. When Six is done, it says sympathetically, “Oh yeah – sounds like you goons are going to get ed!”

Six thinks about it and sadly has to agree that it seems very likely.


----------



## Furby076

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> =
> 
> 3.  A general question for both you, Shil, and the players:  everyone seems content right now to offer services to various contacts throughout the city.  Being the most powerful characters in Sharn, does anyone have Bigger Plans (tm)?  Maybe Gareth wants a more powerful political position in the Church?  Nameless looking for more respect from the Guild?  Maybe Six will use his newfound citizenship and artistic clout to mingle with muckity-mucks and garner himself a powerful bureaucratic position?  Basically, what are the PCs Big Plans?  We don't hear about them as much as I'd like.





Gareth's plans:

Regain paladinhood
Marry Lalia
Cleanse the Silver Flame of all bad apples
Rid the world of evil
(my plans for Gareth) Become a god


----------



## Rackhir

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Yup.  I remember all that.      I just got the impression that becoming "permanent guardians" of the Key would have some added benefits, similar to the transcendence offered by the dying coatl.  Maybe the Key would've shucked it's physical shackles and embedded itself into each of your souls.  Or maybe you would've just had to lug it around for even longer.  What do I know?




If being connected to the shard had given us some benefits, we might have looked at things differently, but basically it was all liabilities and essentially no benefits. Nor were any benefits mentioned to us by the Gatekeepers. So we kind of assumed that "permanent guardians" meant sitting around in the swamp never doing anything, except looking after the dammed shard. Also by the time we got to the gatekeepers I at least was tired of lugging around a potential holocaust. 



			
				GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Believe me, I can empathize.  Back in a college campaign we hit 14th level, but our DM had a way of making us feel like we were 4th.




We wish that were the case, we got our asses kicked around a lot less when we were 4th level.  



			
				GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> The comment about character power level aside, your PCs seem content offering their services and being hired for various jobs around the city.  Not a criticism, just an observation.  Judging from what I've read, the game seems very open-ended, which is always the kind of game I love to play in.




I at least am looking at the current period as the "calm" before the storm. I have faith in our ability to get into trouble and so far we're doing quite well on that score. Let's just say the Boromar's are unlikely to be very pleased with how that whole duel thing Halak Boromar challenged us to worked out...



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> (my plans for Gareth) Become a god



 You always did think small...


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> If being connected to the shard had given us some benefits, we might have looked at things differently, but basically it was all liabilities and essentially no benefits. Nor were any benefits mentioned to us by the Gatekeepers. So we kind of assumed that "permanent guardians" meant sitting around in the swamp never doing anything, except looking after the dammed shard. Also by the time we got to the gatekeepers I at least was tired of lugging around a potential holocaust.




That's an accurate description. At that point, there really didn't seem to be any particular benefit at all to keeping an eye on the Shard. And, as you said, Luna would have killed herself rather than do that, and Six wouldn't have been much happier with the prospect either.



> We wish that were the case, we got our asses kicked around a lot less when we were 4th level.






I was curious how correct or not you were, so I went back and checked how often PCs went down below -10 at each level, as well as how many sessions were played at each. Here's what I found: 

Level  -  No. of times below -10  -  Sessions
3 - - - - - - - - - - 0 - - - - - - - - - - 3
4 - - - - - - - - - - 2 - - - - - - - - - - 3
5 - - - - - - - - - - 1 - - - - - - - - - - 5
6 - - - - - - - - - - 3 - - - - - - - - - - 6
7 - - - - - - - - - - 3 - - - - - - - - - - 6
8 - - - - - - - - - - 7 - - - - - - - - - - 8
9 - - - - - - - - - - 4 - - - - - - - - - - 8
10- - - - - - - - - - 1 - - - - - - - - - - 6 
11- - - - - - - - - - 4 - - - - - - - - - - 4

The overall average (25 times in 49) is someone dropping below -10 about once per two sessions. First 3 levels (3rd to 5th) had the least, with 3 in 11, with the next 3 (6th to 8th) having the most - 13 in 20. Last three levels are in between, with 9 in 18.  

In short, it looks like you're absolutely right. You did get kicked around a lot less at 4th lvl. Of course, at that point you weren't traipsing around Xen'drik (that trip accounted for 6 of the times people hit -10) or traveling halfway across Khorvaire fighting barbarians in the Marches and rakshasas in the Wastes (that trip caused 7 of the above).

Still, it's safe to say life's ... well, unsafe as you start swimming with the bigger fish.



> I at least am looking at the current period as the "calm" before the storm. I have faith in our ability to get into trouble and so far we're doing quite well on that score. Let's just say the Boromar's are unlikely to be very pleased with how that whole duel thing Halak Boromar challenged us to worked out...




I think that's a reasonable assumption. Time to start writing that one up now.



> You always did think small...


----------



## shilsen

Over the next couple of days, the Guardian Angels go through a number of meetings. The first stop on their list is to Warden Balan Cord, to apprise him of the challenge from Halak Boromar and check if this can be linked in some way to the Watch’s interest in the underground gladiatorial arenas in Sharn.

As fairly regular visitors, they’re quickly ushered in, but informed that they need to wait for a while since Balan is busy. He emerges soon, accompanied by an unusually tall half-elven woman. Unlike Balan, who is generally dressed in mufti, if a little formally, she wears a dark uniform with the badge of the Blackened Book prominently displayed. Balan waves the group over and introduces them.

“This is Lady Warden Maira ir’Talan, my commanding officer. Maira – these are the Guardian Angels.”

Maira gives a short bow and says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a fair bit about you, especially from Balan, and I’m thankful for all the help you have provided us. And the work in general that you’re doing in Sharn.”

“Hey – nice to meet you too!” says the Endless Blade, from its position behind Gareth’s back.

The adventurers thank her for the compliments and shush the sword, after which she takes her leave. Balan ushers them into a meeting room to ask what occasions their visit. He also mentions Six telling him about Gareth insulting Saidan Boromar, which he seems to find very amusing. As he is by the Endless Blade, which Gareth introduces.

Gareth then hands over the note from Halak and says, “I’ve really got no interest in this Halak’s challenge, but we wondered if you wanted to use this chance for a sting operation of some sort, since one of the jobs you’d offered as an option to end Nameless’ time in prison was to do with these gladiatorial arenas.”

Halak reads the note and chuckles. “Somebody doesn’t like you much. And yes, that’s definitely a possibility.” He hands back the note. “I’ll take you to the person you need to speak to. I’m not directly involved – nor is the Blackened Book – with this matter, just like I had no real connection with your work for Talleon and the Citadel. It’s just something I know about. The person dealing with this issue is Silaena Cazal.”

Balan leads the group out of his office, explaining along the way that Cazal is the commanding officer of the Menthis Plateau branch of the Sharn Watch. Since the gladiatorial arenas are generally in existence in lower Menthis, they fall under her jurisdiction and she has been trying to close them down for a long time. Conveniently, since the Blackened Book’s headquarters are in part of the Watch headquarters for Menthis, she’s actually in the same building.

When they meet, the Angels find Silaena Cazal to be a serious-looking female elf approaching middle age. Balan introduces them and explains what the situation is, as well as vouching for the group’s reliability and expertise. Silaena listens quietly, and then says, “This is something I’m definitely interested in talking advantage of. We have actually had a couple of reasonably successful raids, but the Burning Ring – which is the largest and most successful of the arenas – just seems to reopen again. The primary reason, I think, is because we never caught the ring-master, who runs the operation, a man called Hoas Junter. With your help, we might be able to.”

She considers for a bit, and then says, “Even though we have only two days, I should be able to get a sufficient force ready. One of our problems has been that the Burning Ring consistently moves around lower Menthis. You have significant magical ability, correct?” 

Balan, who has remained in the room, says, “They’re some of the best in Sharn, to my knowledge.”

“Good. So you wouldn’t have trouble sending us a message to let us know where you are?”

“Not at all,” says Nameless.

“Good. In that case, what I suggest you do is accept this challenge, show up to the Burning Ring, and send me a message as soon as you know where the location is. I’ll have my troops waiting, and we’ll be there as soon as we can. Once the raid begins, since you’ll already be inside, hopefully you can help cut down on casualties. There’ll be a lot of people there, very likely, and a lot of armed gladiators, guards, and so on, so your help will be very valuable. And it’ll be especially valuable if you can make sure to intercept Hoas Junter before he escapes.” Silaena goes on to describe Hoas as an athletic-looking shifter, with neatly trimmed sideburns and a penchant for black clothing.

Six, who has been steadily getting uncomfortable with the overall plan to get involved with the Watch and this operation, and with the specific plan itself, speaks up. “I have a few questions. Firstly, we’ve had some trouble with both Boromars and Daask, and I don’t want to add a bunch of enemies, if I can avoid it. Is this Burning Ring affiliated to either Boromars or Daask? And what kind of people go to watch these things? If they’re society bigwigs, I’m sure they’ll get out soon, and I’m sure they’d be upset about our role in their arrest.”

When he finishes, Silaena shakes her head. “The Burning Ring isn’t run by Daask or the Boromars, though Hoas apparently gets along fine with both groups. He does sometimes have Daask or Boromar members taking part, as the challenge to you already indicates, and while it’s not really neutral ground, Boromars and Daask meeting each other won’t fight there, since there are far too many other armed people to interfere. And the people going there are mostly upper middle class downwards. The odd person from the upper towers may go, but they generally don’t want to risk being in lower Menthis at night. So I think you’re safe on that score.”

“Even so,” persists Six, “Don’t you think you might be better off if you use us to gain information and decide on a raid with that at hand? We could build up some popularity there and subtly,” Six pauses to look at his companions and say “Don’t laugh!” before continuing, “Find you future locations and things like that for you.”

Silaena thinks a little and then says, “You do have a point. What do the rest of you think?”

The rest of the Angels say they are willing to do so, especially Korm and Luna, both of whom are thinking, _That might mean we get to have a few extra fights there. Great!_

“All right,” says Silaena. “Then this is what I suggest. Go there as the challenge says, fight Halak Boromar, and try to come out of it alive. Tell Hoas that you’re interested in competing again and try to get him to invite you back there. If you get to take part a few times, you should be able to see a number of the different locations they hold the fights at. Once you’ve done that a few times, we’ll have a much better chance of a successful raid that can shut them down permanently. While I can organize it in two days, I’ll be able to do so much more effectively with weeks to prepare.”

“That sounds good,” says Gareth. “We’ll help however we can. Since I, or maybe a few of us, will be taking part, can you tell us anything you know about the Burning Ring and the kind of fights they have?”

“Types of fights? Well, most of them are one-on-one fights in an arena, with some involving small groups and sometimes bringing in an exotic monster to fight one or more people. They’re not supposed to be to the death, and I believe they keep healers at hand, but sometimes people die.” Silaena grimaces and adds, “I believe those are the most popular.”

Six simply nods, thinking, as he often does nowadays, that people are very strange.

“Are the fighters forced to do it?” asks Korm. “Or are they willing participants?”

Silaena eyes the big orc for a moment, her expression saying that the question isn’t really relevant. “They’re willing. It’s not hard to find people after the War who don’t have many skills beside fighting. And it’s also an easy way to make money, so it attracts amateur fighters. There’s no pay, but there’s a lot of betting, and you can make good money by putting money on yourself. If you survive.” Korm says nothing, and she continues, “I believe most of the fights happen without the use of magic or armor.”

“What?”* Gareth’s tone and especially the look on his face makes Nameless chuckle and the other Angels grin. So does Balan.

Silaena, however, does not. “I believe they find armor and magic cuts down on the volume of gore produced. Which isn’t a positive factor for the audience.”

“That makes things a little different,” says Gareth, giving his companions a dirty look. “I’d be significantly weaker without using magic or armor, and I’m guessing Halak can’t use magic, and with his size, and probably agility, no armor would bother him less.”

“I believe they do also have armored fights, however,” says Silaena. “Just like they have fights where magic is used. They often have warforged competing, many of whom have built-in armor and some of whom have had it enchanted, so to even things out they allow it to the opposition. If you want it bad enough, I think they’ll let you use yours and let Halak do so too.”

“All right,” says Gareth, though not looking much happier. “Anything you can tell me about Halak?”

“All I know is that he came here from the Plains a few months ago and made a quick rise through their ranks. He’s Saidan Boromar’s head enforcer now. Supposed to be very good with that tangat of his.”

“So he’s not the head of security?”

“Halak? No! I doubt he’s smart enough for that. He’s just muscle. Highly effective muscle, but still muscle.”

“All right.” Gareth asks a few more questions, and then the Angels prepare to go. As they are about to do so, Silaena says to him, “Gareth Byron Deneith? Are you working for the family here?”

Surprised at the shift in topic, Gareth says, “No. I’m of the bloodline, but I’ve never worked for the family. I considered joining the Sharn Deneith, but I’m already spread too thin.”

“That’s good,” says Silaena, her tone curiously flat. “Working for the House might curtail your options.” Then her voice changes and she says, “Well, thank you for the information. I’ll be expecting you on the 6th, after your visit to the Burning Ring. And best of luck.”

“Thanks,” says Gareth, wondering what her interest in House Deneith was. 

The Angels head outside and, after bidding Balan goodbye, leave the Watch building. “So,” asks Korm, “Tell me again – why are we helping shut this place down? There’s nothing wrong with two consenting adults fighting each other and betting on it, right?”

Gareth shakes his head. “It’s not legal. And this Hoas is getting rich off other people killing themselves fighting.”

“I don’t really care,” says Luna, “But I’m up for a good fight. Hopefully they’ll let us join in.”

“Yeah,” says Korm. Then he grins. “Otherwise, it’ll just be Gareth running around in his underwear being chased by a halfling.” He looks at Gareth and says, “Oh, and when it comes to fighting without armor, let me just say,” and places a thumb on his nose and waggles his hand, “Nahnahnahnah!” 

Gareth grimaces, looking at the unarmored orc, and says, “Easy for you to say!”

Nameless chuckles and says, “We’ll find out tomorrow. For now, I presume we head down to Dura and meet that bugbear called…”

* * * * * *
“…Dhurmhaac?”

The dirty-looking dwarven bartender at the Cracked Mirror looks up from the glass he’s wiping and points at a corner. A bulky figure is rising already and walks forward to join the Angels. It is a particularly thick-set, poorly dressed bugbear, the muscles of his arms rivaling those of Korm. He is, however, much older, with sparse and stringy white hair hanging off his balding scalp, just as the flesh hangs loosely off his frame. 

“I am Dhurmhaac,” he says, in a voice that still has traces of a foreign accent. _Droaam or Darguun_, thinks Korm, while the bugbear looks at the barkeep and asks, “Can we go in the back?” The dwarf grunts wordlessly and nods.

Dhurmhaac leads the Angels into the back, followed by the curious and suspicious looks of the primarily shifter-populated main room. Once inside, he sits across a table from the Angels and looks at each of them keenly.

After a few moments, he says, “Thank you for coming. If I can ask, are you working for or friends with Daask? Their people in Malleon’s Gate say that you are allies with them or scared of Daask.”

“No!” says Gareth quickly. “Why? Is this connected to them?”

Dhurmhaac nods and then pauses. After a few seconds, he says quietly but flatly, “I want you to kill them.”

Nameless opens his mouth to speak, but the old bugbear does not stop. “They killed my son. Rhash’mhaac. He joined them, because he wanted to be with others from Droaam, and he thought he looked tough with armor and a sword. I told him he was wrong, but he did not listen.” His voice softens, but remains flat, as he continues, “Three nights ago, the people he was with found two goblin girls. They wanted to rape them. Rhash’mhaac was a foolish boy, but he was not bad. He tried to stop them, so they beat him. And then they made him watch. And then they brought him to my home, and they cut his throat, and they left him by my door.” His voice trembles very slightly. “He died slowly, but without strength to call me for help. I slept, while my son died by my door. I found him in the morning.”

Dhurmhaac reaches to his belt and places a large bag on the table, which clinks as he pushes it towards Gareth. “Take this. If you see anyone from Daask, kill them. Kill them for me. I know you are rich and powerful people, and it is not much. If you need more, I think I can get more by tomorrow. Many people have been hurt by Daask, but they are too scared to say anything. But they will give money to see Daask hurt like they have been. I will go to them and bring the money to you.”

Gareth shakes his head and pushes it back. “Keep the money. We will be happy to make Daask suffer.”

Nameless adds, “But we cannot do anything to them for about five months. After that, they’re fair game.” Gareth’s face darkens and he clenches his jaw for a moment, but he nods.

Dhurmhaac looks confused. “I do not understand. Five months?”

“It’s a complicated story,” says Six. “We have an agreement and cannot harm them for five months.”

“But, after that,” says Gareth grimly, “We can unleash hell upon them.”

Dhurmhaac sighs and bows his head for a moment, and then says, “All right. Thank you.”

“Happy to do so,” says Gareth, again pushing the money back.

“No,” says Dhurmhaac, noticing the motion. “Keep the money.” He smiles thinly. “Rhash’mhaac had a wife and two children. He used to play with the little girl every morning before going out. I have sent them back to Droaam. I do not need any more. I have only a day or two. Daask will know soon that I have spoken to you, and they will kill me.”

“Are you sure?”

The bugbear smiles again, a trifle more grimly. “Yes. There are Daask people outside.”

“In that case,” says Gareth decisively, “You can come and live in our house with us for the five months.” He looks around the group. “Does anyone have a problem with that?”

A little surprised at the sudden offer, Nameless says, “Nope.” The others nod.

Dhurmhaac now looks significantly surprised. “Live in your house?”

“You will be safe there from Daask.”

Dhurmhaac smiles slightly again and shakes his head. “There is no need.” He lifts both hands and places them palm up on the table, revealing a mass of wrinkled, callused and seemingly horn-hard flesh, with thick fingers ending in broken, twisted nails. “I am old. I have worked in Sharn for fifteen years, and all I have left is there”, he says, pointing to the bag of money. “My wife died in the plague three months ago. And then I had only my son and my daughter-in-law and my grandchildren. They are all gone now. It does not matter for me.” His expression firms and grows grim. “But someone should make Daask pay. You can do it. I heard people in Malleon’s Gate say you used strong magic against Daask. You are heroes, no?”

Nobody answers for a moment. Then Gareth says, quietly, “As I said, we will make Daask suffer. Believe me, I wish we could do it right now, but we cannot. But we will do so when we can. And we cannot take your money.”

Dhurmhaac rises awkwardly to his feet. “Then you can give it to someone who can use it. I will not need it. They will come for me soon.” For a moment, a fierce light gleams in his eyes and he clenches his fists. “I will be waiting.” Then the expression is replaced by that of sheer hopeless tiredness that he has worn for much of the meeting. He genuflects to the group. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

As he turns to go, Gareth opens his mouth, but Korm’s hand closes on his shoulder. “Let him go,” says the big orc firmly.

“Why?” asks Gareth, but Korm just shakes his head, not bothering to explain how the bugbear’s story, and especially his choice, has resonated with Korm’akhan’s personal fatalism and belief that while all things will pass and wither in time, living well and dying well – especially in battle – is more than enough.

The Angels arise and follow Dhurmhaac, Gareth pausing to check the coins. They are all copper and silver, and it looks like the entire sack might hold about a hundred galifars worth, less than the cost of the clothing that some of the Angels wear. He sticks it in his haversack, thinking that he can donate it to the Church.

Dhurmhaac is gone by the time they emerge, but when they reach the street, they see him at the end of it, heading towards Malleon’s Gate. “Well,” says Luna, looking after him, “That was depressing.”

“I told you what damage Daask does to people of Sharn,” says Gareth, not addressing anyone in particular.

“Nobody denies that,” says Six. “All I am saying is that we’re not in a position to just eradicate them. And just doing so won’t necessarily improve things much.”

“Speaking of things we’d like to eradicate,” says Korm, “But aren’t really in a position to, I think we’re supposed to be stopping in on…”

“Not me,” says Nameless, even before Korm finishes. “I’m going back to the house.”

“Maybe just you should go,” says Six to Gareth, “Since he’s your buddy.”

“Who?” asks Gareth, before he realizes who Six means. “Oh,” he says with a scowl, “you mean…”

* * * * * * 
“…Killian.”

The gnome grins up at Gareth and the others and waves at the seats around the table, the one which he is always present at in the Lucky Nines casino. “Sit down, sit down. Where’s Nameless?”

Gareth opens his mouth to reply and is interrupted by a voice from behind his neck. The Endless Blade says, “Hey, Six – so this is the squirt you mentioned?”

Even as Six chuckles and Gareth glowers, Killian cranes his neck to see who spoke. “Who was that?”

“Me. Up here.”

“You have a talking sword now, Gareth? What happened to Kizmet? Are you cheating on it?”

“I don’t like him,” says the sword decisively.

Gareth, who’s glowering more and more, says firmly to the sword, “Remember I said there’ll be some times I’ll have to ask you not to interrupt? This is one of them.”

“Sheesh!” says the sword in a sulky voice. “Fine, fine – wake me when you’re done.”

“So,” says Gareth, “Why did you want to meet us?”

Killian smiles around cherubically and says, “Couldn’t it be just for your scintillating company? After all, you were kind enough to visit me at the shop. So this could be just a friendly meeting, right?”

“No, it couldn’t,” says Korm.

“Aw – you know me so well. All right, I did have a possible job in mind, but first, and this does matter for the job – I believe you had an interesting dinner with the Boromars?”

“Oh yes,” says Gareth, with a grin, remembering the pleasure of telling Saidan Boromar exactly what he thought of him. “It was very enjoyable.”

Killian grins back. “Not for Saidan, from what I hear.”

“What _did_ you hear?” asks Six, curious about exactly how much Killian knows.

“Hmmm – let’s see now.” Killian puts on a show of trying to remember. “You sat down to dinner, Saidan tried to hire you for a job, you refused, he asked why, and you told him he was as dirty as Daask.”

“Bloody hell!” ejaculates Luna. “Were you hiding under the damn table?”

Killian just grins, while Korm shakes his head silently. Gareth also smiles and says, “Actually, you’re not completely correct. I told Saidan that he was dirtier than Daask, since at least they’re open about what they are.”

Killian chortles. “Oh, that’s just beautiful! I wish I’d been there to see the look on his face!” He grins sideways at Luna. “Which I wasn’t. Just doing my job here.”

“Tell me,” says Six, “What exactly is your job?”

“Me? I already told you guys. I track information.” Killian grins broadly. “And measure inseams.”

Six emits a metallic chuckle. “Sure you do. So what’s this job you wanted to talk to us about?”

“Well, in view of your current situation with the Boromars, I thought you might be interested in bothering them a bit more. The Boromars have some illegal goods coming in by riverboat in a couple of days. Naturally, the Watch will not be there to inspect the cargo, and it’ll be picked up by Boromar operatives. It would be a big blow to them if a group of adventurers showed up to disrupt things.”

“Perhaps that would be a…,” begins Gareth, but Six interrupts, with a firm, “No.” When both Gareth and Killian look at him quizzically, he clarifies, “We’ve already got enough things on our plates without upsetting the Boromars any more. No.” He looks over at Korm. “What do you think?”

“I agree. We have better things to do.”

“Luna?”

“Me too. Let’s go.”

Gareth shrugs. “As you can see, my friends aren’t interested. So I’m sorry but we can’t do it.”

“I’m heartbroken,” says Killian, putting on a mock pout, before adding, “Maybe you could do it. You and your talking sword?”

The Blade’s voice breaks in. “Oh, f*ck me sideways and call me Sally – how dumb does he think you are, Gareth?”

Gareth scowls and says, “I asked you to be quiet,” before replying to Killian, “No. And they are right. I’ve already got enough issues with the Boromars, what with dueling Halak Boromar tomorrow.”

“Halak Boromar? The enforcer? A duel?” Six notes his response and thinks that either Killian is feigning beautifully, which they do now he can do, or this came as a genuine surprise to him.

Gareth continues. “Yes. He challenged me to fight at the Burning Ring. So we will.”

“In that case,” says Killian, “I wish you the very best of luck. And if you do reconsider about the job…”

“We won’t,” says Six, rising. Korm and Luna follow suit, and head for the door. Gareth shrugs again and rises to follow, saying, “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you.”

“Yes,” says Killian, with a nod and a smile.

Once they’re outside, Gareth says to the others, “Why would he be offering us a job to mess up the Boromars? Isn’t his father part of their supporters on the Council?”

“So?” says Six. “Firstly, he’s a gnome. And secondly, he’s _Killian_. It could be some strange competition in the family. Or a trap. Or something else altogether. Whatever it is, we don’t need to be involved.”

“Okay. No need to get excited,” says Gareth. “We’re not getting involved, so he’s not getting anything from us this time.”

Back in the casino, Killian continues to sit at the table, sipping his wine, a little smile on his face. _Now_ that_ was interesting. Very interesting. 


* What was especially funny was that the tone and look on the player’s face was exactly what I imagine Gareth’s was._


----------



## Solarious

When I read the title, I said 'Oooh. Dinner with Killian. This should be good.'

I wasn't disapointed.


----------



## Gold Roger

Poor Gareth, he doesn't even have a clue what else is in store for him, does he?

Oh, and that bugbear part-beautiful.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> When I read the title, I said 'Oooh. Dinner with Killian. This should be good.'
> 
> I wasn't disapointed.




Glad to be of service. I noticed a long time ago that while it takes me a couple of minutes to really work out in my head and drop into character for my other NPCs, I can switch into "Killian mode" in a second. Korm's player said that I should really start worrying about what that means 



			
				Gold Roger said:
			
		

> Poor Gareth, he doesn't even have a clue what else is in store for him, does he?




No, he doesn't. But the player is convinced that it's going to be horrible. I'll try not to disappoint him.



> Oh, and that bugbear part-beautiful.




Thanks. That entire scene got sparked by a line in Terry Pratchett's novel "Thud!", where a dwarf speaks of his son being stabbed and left to die next to a locked door. I like to have  lots of gray areas and ambiguity in my game, which is one reason Eberron works so well for me, but I also like to have some fairly black-&-white good and evil in there. I don't think they're incompatible, and it just creates more complex situations for the players.

We had the last of our weekly sessions yesterday and are now switching to a fortnightly schedule since my college is reopening. Much as I'd like to play weekly, teaching two courses and working on my Ph.D. makes that a bit difficult. So, the updates will spread out a little bit now. But I do have material for a good 3-4 updates already.

And we had one of our most hilarious sessions yesterday. Let's just say that Luna in the Tain Gala, the premier monthly social party in Sharn, is a bad mix. Without going into too much detail, among other things she explained to the Cyran ambassador how to deal with the fact that his nation blew up, got freaky with a gnome, and decided that a locked, guarded door in the home of the wealthiest family in Sharn is clearly an invitation to go inside.

Quote from Rackhir while Luna was doing her thing: "Can I cast Empowered Disintegrate on myself now?"


----------



## shilsen

*Halflings? I'm Just Glad They Weren't Full-Lings!*

The next day, Six heads down to the Cogs, using his _hat of disguise_ to look like another warforged. He travels down to Lower Tavick’s and enters one of the access shafts that leads down to the Blackbones area. Once there, it takes only a few minutes to get directions to the Red Hammer inn. 

Six finds it in a large cavern slightly separated from the central areas of Blackbones, where most of the industrial work occurs. He pauses to resume his normal form and then enters. While externally quite normal, the inside of the inn is very distinctive. The clientele consists exclusively of warforged, most of them merely sitting around and talking, while one is doing delicate filigree work on another's metal breastplate. There is a bar and shelves as in the common room of a normal inn, but nobody is eating or drinking. There is, however, a warforged behind it, who waves Six over. Most of the others turn to look at him.

“Hello,” says the warforged who beckoned to him, “You’re new here,” and extends a hand. “I am Blue.” 

Six shakes and says, “I am Mithral Six of Six. Call me Six.”

“Good to meet you,” says Blue, turning to indicate another warforged who just entered from the back. “This is Crucible. She and I are the co-owners here.” Six quickly discovers that Blue and Crucible are both among the relatively rarer warforged who have chosen a female persona. Blue also introduces him to some of the others present, such as Tale, the unusually garrulous local storyteller, and Fixer, who performs artwork on other warforged.

Six tells them that he’s interested in information about the job offer that House Cannith has made to the warforged in general, and Blue and Tale give him some information about it. What they tell him is mostly what he knows, including the fact that the Blades of Arakhain (Fett’s former adventuring group) had helped with getting the offer officially passed by the Sharn city council, and they mention that the Blades had addressed the council along with Smith, the warforged priest and one of the leaders of the warforged community. From what they tell him, many warforged have taken up the offer from House Cannith and the warforged in the inn evidently feel that it has helped to improve the options and situation for warforged in Sharn, in general, and the Cogs, in particular.

During the discussion, Tale recognizes Six as a member of the Guardian Angels from the articles in the Korranberg Chronicle, which leads to a number of the other warforged coming over to introduce themselves and makes Six feel like a minor celebrity. 

Six thanks them for the information and says that he might be interested in hiring some warforged himself, as guards and general helpers around the house his group has recently bought. Blue turns to one of the warforged and asks, “Block, weren’t you looking for work?”

Block, a heavily armored warforged, nods silently. Blue says to Six, “Block here was a model built just before the War ended, so he only saw a few months of service. But he’s a good fighter.”

Six talks to Block, who is a particularly quiet, almost shy, individual, and decides to hire him. He then asks for directions to Smith. Blue says Tale was to visit him later and suggests he guide Six, which Tale readily agrees to, and Six, Block and he leave for Smith’s home. Along the way, Tale tells Six that Smith lives beside a shrine known as the Pool of Onatar’s Tears, dedicated to the deity of creation and forgework that Smith worships. He also mentions that Blue and Crucible are almost as influential as Smith among the warforged, due to their strong personalities as much as due to their ownership of the inn. Blue built it with a cache of gold she found during the War, and it is understandably very popular among local warforged, as the only establishment in Sharn catering uniquely to them.

Tale’s knock is answered by a warforged wearing a toolbelt and a leather apron. He invites them in and introduces himself as Smith. Six talks to him for a while, learning more about the Cannith job offer. He also asks Smith about warforged origins, but the priest says that he knows little about such matters, though he believes that Onatar inspired humanity to invent the warforged for some unknown reason. Six says that he is curious about the connection between Xen’drik and the warforged, and Tale says that he’s heard too much about discoveries on that continent to believe that there is no connection. Smith agrees, but says that he knows little about it and does not have much interest. He suggests Six talk to House Cannith about it. Six says he will do so and then whether Smith knows anything about new warforged being created. Tale laughs and says there are always such rumors but never any proof. Smith does not laugh, but says that he has never seen any real proof of it either. He does mention the Blades of Arakhain (about whom he speaks with respect and fondness, as well as regret for their death in the Mournland) having believed that they had met warforged created by the Lord of Blades, who they thought had a functioning creation forge. 

Six thanks Smith for the information and takes his leave, with the latter inviting him to stop by again any time. Tale remains behind, and Six and Block return to the city proper and up to Ocean View and the Gray House. There, Six introduces Block to the others and says that he would like to hire him, as well as perhaps a few others, for security and to look after the house. After a little discussion, they agree. Six tells Block that he should check and see if he can find two or three more warforged who might be interested in the job, making sure that they are such as can handle themselves in a fight.

* * * * * *
By the time the Angels are leaving for the Burning Ring to meet Halak Boromar the next day, their contingent of warforged guards has swelled to four. Six runs through the rigmarole of visiting the local courthouse and obtaining them permits to carry weapons in Upper Tavick’s as well as identification as members of the Angels’ household. The Angels decide that two of the warforged will be permanently present in the guardhouse at the near end of the skybridge leading to the Gray House, and Six provides them with a thunderstone each, so that they can sound the alarm if attacked.

“After all,” says Nameless, “If anyone capable of threatening us attacks this place, those guys will be a minor distraction at best.”

On the subject of threats, that morning Fett returns after one of his days off, to report that he has done a little extra checking on Halak. Though details are sketchy, the halfling warrior is apparently especially good at taking on larger enemies single-handed. Fett says that actual battles between the Boromars and Daask happens rarely, since the Boromars have holdings across the city, so a Daask strike force will often appear, hit a Boromar holding and disappear before the latter can bring their forces to bear. A fairly reliable source says that in one of the rare occurrences when a protracted battle occurred, Halak eviscerated a Daask ogre with a single blow. Somehow, this additional information does not raise the level of confidence in the room. Nor does the information that the Boromars brought in a new contingent of troops from the Talenta Plains a few days ago, who arrived by airship along with a few dinosaurs.

Nevertheless, the group proceeds as planned. They descend to the Firelight district in Lower Menthis, which they find to be bright and buzzing with the night life that the red light district attracts. Their guide, a halfling with a green hat, is waiting at a corner near the popular Changeling’s Kiss brothel. He recognizes the Angels as soon as he sees them, says, “Follow me. And stay close,” and leads them around the nearest corner. 

The guide depicts a circuitous route through the streets and alleys of Firelight. Though the Angels pass a number of streetwalkers, their martial and forbidding appearance significantly lowers their chances of being propositioned. A couple of hardy – or desperate – prostitutes do make an attempt, but are quickly rebuffed, gaining nothing more than a parting crude jest from the Endless Blade. 

The halfling eventually leads the group to the door of another brothel of patently poor quality, lacking even a name outside the door. Entering, he passes a bored-seeming guard and a pair of tired-looking women who seem more like slightly under-dressed maids than prostitutes, none of whom seem at all surprised at the entrance of a well-armed group. The guide proceeds down into the cellar, where he reveals a hidden doorway leading into a tunnel. He heads down the tunnel, followed by the Angels, and leads them through a few of them, of varying size, width and quality of construction.

Eventually, they climb a set of stairs and emerge into the back room of a warehouse, from which they emerge into the streets again. They realize quickly that they are in the theater district of Torchfire now, adjacent to Firelight. Their guide leads them to a shabby theater, which seems to have an unusually large crowd going in. As soon as they enter, the group – along with some other members of the crowd – is led away from the stairs leading up to the performance towards the back rooms. They enter a large chamber which has a big hatchway at the end, revealing steps leading down to a doorway, from behind which emanates the loud murmuring of many voices. Two burly warforged, each wearing a spiked metal gauntlet that would better fit an ogre, stand guard, flanking a man who is taking money from people before they head down the stairs. When they reach him, the halfling says, “No, they’re competitors,” and leads them down the stairs and through the door. 

Beyond it is a huge space, full of talking, laughing, shouting and cheering people, hot with the presence of so many excited bodies, and smoky from the flames of dozens of torches. It is a makeshift amphitheater, with a huge twenty-foot deep pit in the center opening onto the arena below. Most of the people are standing, but the middle of the room has three long rows of seats on sturdy wooden steps, allowing some to sit and look down into the arena. Beside the triple row of seats is a large table with a board behind it, which bears numerous names and numbers beside them, indicating the matches and the current odds on them. The crowd is very eclectic, including armored goblinoids, a pair of gnolls, a female ogre, numerous half-orcs and shifters, a few warforged (including some which are evidently guards), a few people with remnants of military uniforms worn over their armor, as well as a large number of middle class and a few apparently upper class folk (the latter all accompanied by armed bodyguards). 

As the Angels enter, the halfling says, “Here you are!” and walks away. While he is doing so, there is the sound of combat from the pit, which accompanying shouts and yells from the crowd. The Angels move forward to look in at the arena, which is a large rectangular space strewn with sand and earth, with portcullises in all four walls. It is currently occupied by an armored warforged with a two-handed flail, who is facing a man in plate-mail, armed with longsword and shield. As they look in, the warforged smashes the longsword out of his opponent’s hand and then unleashes a flurry of powerful blows, beating down his defenses and eventually sending him bleeding to the floor. Instantly, a man with a wand rushes out of a doorway where the portcullis was raised. He hurries to the bleeding man and uses the wand. As the latter slowly stirs, the warforged raises his flail to the crowd and walks in a slow circle, to a chorus of “Steel! Steel! Steel!” An athletic-looking shifter in black walks out behind the healer and claps Steel on the back, before announcing to the crowd, “The winner and still undefeated – Steel!” As more yells and claps resound, the shifter and the others leave the arena.

“So,” says a voice behind the Angels, “You had the balls to show up!” They turn to find Halak Boromar eyeing them, with six more halflings behind him. 

“So,” replies the Endless Blade, addressing Gareth, “This is the shortarse who you told me about?”

A look of confusion crosses Halak’s face, followed by anger, followed by confusion again as the sword continues to speak. They are interrupted by the arrival of the shifter from the arena, who introduces himself as Hoas Junter. “I’ve heard a lot about you people,” he says to the Angels. “Are you ready to go? What will it be – one on one or a group thing?”

“Group would be better,” says Luna hurriedly, not wanting to miss out, and Korm nods. “I’d rather sit this one out,” says Six. 

“Do you allow magic use?” asks Nameless, turning his now permanently glowing blue eyes on Hoas. “I am a wizard, so that is the only option I have.”

Hoas shakes his head. “No options for a mage duel here,” he says. “We very rarely have those, and when we do we need to pre-plan. So, sorry, but no.”

Halak, who has turned to talk to his companions, turns to say, “How about three on three then? Me and them,” he points at two halflings who are evidently identical twins, “against you three,” he points at Gareth, Luna and Korm.

The three Angels agree and Hoas asks them to follow him. “Put a thousand galifars on me,” says Luna to Six and Nameless as she goes, causing Korm and Gareth to say the same. Hoas leads them through one of the many doors set into the walls and down a flight of stairs into a large area that is clearly behind one of the portcullises leading into the arena. Some other gladiators and a few attendants are present too. “So,” he says, turning to the six combatants, “Any preferences?”

“Can we fight in armor and use magic to prepare?” asks Gareth quickly. Hoas looks at Halak, who shrugs and says, “Armor and magic is fine. We’ll be using potions.”

Hoas nods and beckons over a man wearing a metal circlet on his head, which is set with tiny dragonshards, who has silently been watching them. “Check them.” The man gazes at the Angels and then winces. “How much magic _do_ you people walk around with?” After focusing for a bit, he recites the number of magical auras on each of the Angels. He then checks the three halflings, and does the same, mentioning much smaller numbers. 

After a second’s thought, Hoas says, “Okay – you can use three spells or potions on each of you. And then, you head into the arena. Once you’re in there, no spells or anything else, until you’re told to begin. Just line up on either side of the arena and wait for the signal. Since this is a team thing, it ends when all members of one team are down. Anyone who goes down unconscious is out and a healer will try to get to him. Don’t hit one of our healers by mistake; they cost a lost. Leaving the arena floor counts as fleeing, so anyone who does that is out too. That’s about it. Any questions?”

“No,” says Luna, before changing into a large brown bear. Korm too changes in his own manner, growing a row of poisoned fangs. Then the two druids and Gareth begin to cast their protective spells.

The three halflings produce a few potions each and drink them too. Then they reach into their packs and produce ornate hunting masks, which they don. As they do, Korm and Luna have a second when they think they catch an incredibly faint, near-invisible form of a rearing dinosaur behind each halfling, which then fade away. Korm mentions it, causing Gareth to ask the circlet-wielding man suspiciously, “Are those masks magical?”

He focuses for a few seconds and then says, “No. And what are you asking for? You three are loaded down with about thrice the things they have.”

Gareth doesn’t respond, and Korm says to him, “I’ve heard of those. The Talenta warriors believe that their hunt masks give them a link to the dinosaurs they ride. I always thought it was just a spiritual thing, but I’m sure I saw something.”

“All right,” says Hoas, who’s been talking to others in the area. “Time to go.” He walks into the arena, followed by the six combatants, and motions them to their places. Korm, Luna and Gareth line up at one end, while the three halflings stand at the other, Halak in the center. He menacingly twirls his tangat, while his companions slide open their hunting jackets, to reveal a dozen boomerangs lining the insides. 

Hoas steps into the center and waves to the crowd, before announcing, “And now, ladies and gentlemen, for your pleasure, a special treat. Here, we have members of the famed Guardian Angels, the number one adventurers in Sharn! And their challengers, Halak Boromar and two newcomers to our city from the Plains! Please – place your bets!” There is a commotion above as people hurry to do so. Six and Nameless, watching with great interest, also do so, placing a thousand galifars each on their friends too, making a round five thousand galifars placed by the Angels.

Below, Hoas looks at either trio and says, “All right. Wait for the signal.” He walks jauntily away, waving to the crowd, and enters one of the side chambers. A healer takes his place, waiting with wand in hand for the first person to go down. The Boromars and the Angels eye each other for a long moment.

“Begin!”

The fastest to move are Halak’s two allies, hands blurring as they hurl, draw and hurl more boomerangs at incredible speed. One slams into Korm’s forehead, momentarily staggering him, and then ricochets* off to painfully smack the side of Luna’s head. Even as she begins to growl, another smacks her right between the eyes, causing her vision to blur, and bounces off with unerring aim to hit Gareth in the ribs. One bounces off his armor, and then another smashes into his throat and causes him to gag and almost drop the Endless Blade, which is yelling, “Come on! Hit them! What are you idiots doing?!”

Unfortunately, the barrage of boomerangs keeps the Angels just enough off balance to prevent them from acting immediately**, and Halak is already moving, with unusual speed for a halfling. He comes in fast, bent even lower than usual so as to not get in the way of the boomerangs, and then spins in a deadly circle, laying open Luna’s shoulder and burying his tangat into Gareth’s side, who staggers at the blow.

“Come on!” pleads the Endless Blade, almost shaking with frustration in Gareth’s grasp. Whether that be the cause or not, Gareth shakes off the distraction of the boomerangs and swings back at Halak, smiting him with the Silver Flame’s power. Or he tries to. To his surprise, the halfling snarls, pivots and neatly smashes*** the sword out of the way with his tangat. 

Korm and Luna are also shaking off the effects of the boomerangs, at least partly because only one of the twins is still hurling them, while the other flips out two daggers and rushes into combat. Korm slashes at him, but he dodges, taking only a flesh wound, and lays open the big orc’s thigh with a slash. Simultaneously, another boomerang bounces off Korm’s chest and into Luna’s side. Another hits Gareth on the side of the head, staggering him.

Luna notes Gareth’s weakened condition and realizes that one more of Halak’s inordinately powerful blows might drop him. She calls upon the power of the beast spirit that resides within her, feeling it heal some of her wounds, and simultaneously reaches out a paw to touch him, growling the words of a _rejuvenation cocoon_. Gareth sighs in relief as the spell envelops him in a protective barrier, but the crowd above is not as impressed. Boos and hisses ring out, with multiple cries of “Cowards!” Apparently equally unimpressed is the Blade, which howls its indignation. “What are you doing? You’re hiding from a halfling?!”

Outside the _cocoon_, Halak turns to Luna, infuriated that she has robbed him of his target. He howls like a wild animal and then crouches and leaps upwards. As he does, Luna and Korm again see a momentary flicker in the air behind him, the shape of a clawfoot dinosaur leaping up to slash at its prey. As the shape disappears, Halak comes down, tangat biting deep into the back of Luna’s neck, ripping and tearing. Luna howls in agony, only a lucky stumble keeping her from near decapitation****.

From beside her, Korm shouts, “Luna! They’re lined up!” Shaking off the pain, Luna looks up to see that the twin boomerang-throwers have ended up at two ends of a line thirty feet apart. Before they can realize the danger they’re in, Korm hurls his sword, calling upon one of the enchantments the Gatekeepers placed within its meteoric iron. It whirls through the air, laying open the chest of the dagger-wielder and continuing on to bury itself right through his twin’s abdomen and emerge from his back. The latter looks down, too shocked to scream, and grabs at the sword, which is longer than he is tall. As his hands close around it, the blade disappears and reappears in Korm’s hand. 

Following Korm’s lead, Luna unleashes an _arc of lightning_ along precisely the same path. Though the first of the twins leaps aside, his wounded brother is much too slow. The _arc_ strikes in the middle of his chest, and he is hurled backwards to land as a smoking corpse. The waiting healer rushes to him, but after one look at the charred corpse, looks up and shakes his head. The crowd promptly erupts into cheers.

Within a couple of seconds, the second of the twins drops under Korm’s blade, but not before Halak and he have reduced Luna to a gory mess, only on her feet through sheer bloody-mindedness and the extra healing she is able to provide herself even while clawing and biting at her foes. As the halfling goes down, Korm turns and uses a _cocoon_ on Luna too, again drawing boos from the crowd. The near-dead***** shifter thankfully sinks down behind the magical globe of force, healing herself as best she can.

For a second, Korm and Halak face each other, before rushing into combat. Despite his size and weight, as well as being much less wounded than Halak, who has blood streaming from claw wounds on his sides, Korm finds himself well matched, the Boromar enforcer launching a series of slashing blows that he barely deflects. Korm does also land some powerful blows, but Halak shows no signs of quitting.

Unfortunately for the halfling, his other enemies were only temporarily out of the fight. Even as Korm and he momentarily lock weapons, the Gatekeeper using his greater bulk to shove Halak backwards, the _cocoon_ behind him dissolves, to reveal a completely healed Gareth, stepping out with sword upraised. 

Even as Halak attempts to turn and bring his tangat to bear, Gareth brings the Endless Blade down. There is a momentary flash of silver flame and the Boromar enforcer drops, a now blood-smeared snarl still on his cloven face. “Yes!” exults the Blade, “Eat that!” before adding sotto voce to Gareth, “I still can’t believe you had to hide from that shrimp!” 

Above them, the crowd goes wild, clapping and cheering at the bloody finish. Only Nameless and Six look at each other somberly, though relieved at their allies’ survival. “So,” asks Six, “What sort of payback do you think Saidan Boromar provides for someone killing his primary enforcer?”


* Boomerang Ricochet feat from Races of Eberron
** Boomerang Daze, also RoE. Nasty, nasty feat!
*** Wall of Blades maneuver (Book of Nine Swords)
**** Critical on a Soaring Raptor Strike (Bo9S). 80 pts of damage, which got turned to 50 pts via a lucky swashbuckling card
***** She was down to -9 hp, which she can fight till due to Shifter Savagery


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> And we had one of our most hilarious sessions yesterday. Let's just say that Luna in the Tain Gala, the premier monthly social party in Sharn, is a bad mix. Without going into too much detail, among other things she explained to the Cyran ambassador how to deal with the fact that his nation blew up, got freaky with a gnome, and decided that a locked, guarded door in the home of the wealthiest family in Sharn is clearly an invitation to go inside.




Gareth had one of the worst nights of his life and is contemplating Blackguard.


----------



## Sidekick

shilsen said:
			
		

> Only Nameless and Six look at each other somberly, though relieved at their allies’ survival. “So,” asks Six, “What sort of payback do you think Saidan Boromar provides for someone killing his primary enforcer?”



Yowzahh.

I'm going to guess that the answer is "not well".

So did they actually out and out kill those fool's down to -10. If so that's pretty bloodthirsty. 

But then again the they are 11th level. the ability to deal massive amounts of damage is high...

Bring on the updates I demand it for I am sick and not feeling well!


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

Very cool.  I'm curious about Luna's beast spirit.  Are those rules from a particular supplement, or is it something you created?  Is it some how related to the totem spirit stuff in the ECS?

The raptor stuff with the halflings was very cool.  Nice touch.  They sounded like vicious bastards.


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:
			
		

> Gareth had one of the worst nights of his life and is contemplating Blackguard.




 

Isn't Gareth contemplating Blackguard every second day now?



			
				Sidekick said:
			
		

> Yowzahh.
> 
> I'm going to guess that the answer is "not well".
> 
> So did they actually out and out kill those fool's down to -10. If so that's pretty bloodthirsty.




Two of them. Korm used his Whirling Blade ability (his sword lets him use it a couple of times daily) and hit both of the boomerang-throwers, and I think he critted one of them. And Luna fired off her Arc of Lightning and the same guy blew his save. I think he went to -30 or something. I described it as one of those cartoon moments when all you have left are two smoking boots. And Gareth did a Smite + Divine Might on Halak when he was down to 20 or so hp and took him well past -10.  



> But then again the they are 11th level. the ability to deal massive amounts of damage is high...




True. Korm was putting out 20-30 pts of damage a hit, since he was Power Attacking, and Gareth was doing a base of 4d6 (Holy greatsword) and had a modifier of something like +25 on that (Smite, Divine Might, etc.) on the killing blow. 

Of course, they could have just gone for nonlethal damage at that point, but nobody considered it. Six probably would have, but he wasn't in the fight.



> Bring on the updates I demand it for I am sick and not feeling well!




I'll have one up tomorrow.



			
				GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Very cool. I'm curious about Luna's beast spirit. Are those rules from a particular supplement, or is it something you created? Is it some how related to the totem spirit stuff in the ECS?




It's from Races of Eberron under the Shifter Druid substitution levels. The druid gives up an animal companion and gains a floating stat boost (+2 to start with, rising gradually to +4 and then +6) to any one stat, and a bunch of special abilities as she increases in level (just as an animal companion improves). Very nice option, and I've used it with non-shifter druids too.



> The raptor stuff with the halflings was very cool. Nice touch. They sounded like vicious bastards.




Thanks. It just seemed like a flavorful way to explain the fairly rare skillset they brought with them. The boomerang-throwers were Ftr2/Rgr2/Rog3 and Halak was a Bbn1/Warblade7. Their stats are up at the rogues gallery thread.


----------



## Vorput

> “Do you allow magic use?” asks Nameless, turning his now permanently glowing blue eyes on Hoas. “I am a wizard, so that is the only option I have.”




Wait- I'm confused on the rules here- Rejuvenation cocoons, wildshaping, and arcs of lightning were ok?


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Wait- I'm confused on the rules here- Rejuvenation cocoons, wildshaping, and arcs of lightning were ok?



 They decided after some discussion (mainly because Halak made the mistake of being a little too bloodthirsty and not thinking the repercussions through) that spells would be fine once they were in the fight. Gareth was especially adamant that he wouldn't be fighting otherwise.

Good thing too, because the PCs would have been toast without the spells.


----------



## Seekerofskill

shilsen said:
			
		

> They decided after some discussion (mainly because Halak made the mistake of being a little too bloodthirsty and not thinking the repercussions through) that spells would be fine once they were in the fight. Gareth was especially adamant that he wouldn't be fighting otherwise.
> 
> Good thing too, because the PCs would have been toast without the spells.



Actually the PC's should have been toast anyway, shilsen goes easy with the battle tactics.


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> Wait- I'm confused on the rules here- Rejuvenation cocoons, wildshaping, and arcs of lightning were ok?




They were afraid of big "BOOM" spells, not so much spell casting. Luna wasn't able to use her favorite spell "Flame Strike" because of that.


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

shilsen said:
			
		

> Good thing too, because the PCs would have been toast without the spells.




Well of course.  Ranged/flanking specialists and a heavy-duty warrior type vs. a paladin and his primary caster friends?  It'd be like sending three fighters in there and telling them they couldn't use half their feats.


----------



## shilsen

Seekerofskill said:
			
		

> Actually the PC's should have been toast anyway, shilsen goes easy with the battle tactics.




What did you have in mind? I'd say there have been a fair number of fights where theoretically weaker enemies have been punching above their weight almost purely due to tactics.

I do try to make the tactics appropriate to the given NPCs, and with Halak not being much of a tactical genius and his two allies being new to Sharn and not knowing the Angels, their tactics were pretty straightforward. Have the boomerang-throwers keep them off balance and let Halak get in close and start swinging, at which point the other two would try to join him for much flanking & sneak attacking goodness. Korm killed the latter part of the plan with his Whirling Blade critical, with Luna administering the coup de grace with her Arc of Lightning. Once his allies were down, Halak alone had no way of taking down three enemies with significant healing capability.



			
				GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Well of course. Ranged/flanking specialists and a heavy-duty warrior type vs. a paladin and his primary caster friends? It'd be like sending three fighters in there and telling them they couldn't use half their feats.




That was precisely Gareth's point. Admittedly, the two druids are much more optimized for melee than standard druids, for various reasons, but even so, not being able to cast spells would significantly cut down their effectiveness.


----------



## Seekerofskill

shilsen said:
			
		

> What did you have in mind? I'd say there have been a fair number of fights where theoretically weaker enemies have been punching above their weight almost purely due to tactics.
> 
> I do try to make the tactics appropriate to the given NPCs, and with Halak not being much of a tactical genius and his two allies being new to Sharn and not knowing the Angels, their tactics were pretty straightforward. Have the boomerang-throwers keep them off balance and let Halak get in close and start swinging, at which point the other two would try to join him for much flanking & sneak attacking goodness. Korm killed the latter part of the plan with his Whirling Blade critical, with Luna administering the coup de grace with her Arc of Lightning. Once his allies were down, Halak alone had no way of taking down three enemies with significant healing capability.



Concentration. Fishook. More boomerangs. After the initial round if the twins full boomeranged the weakest one that wasn't Gareth that would have taken the target out, either of the battle or for another round. Since Gareth was at one end of the battle line, Halak could start at one end and roll up the line. An unsuspecting Gareth vs that little       with full maneuvers availible would have overwhelmed him. It wouldn't have mattered if the druids were active. Whoever was left would need cocooning. The way RC works, it would have allow Halak to recover all his maneuvers and repeat the whoop ass.

_Fear the incorporeal gninja_


----------



## shilsen

Seekerofskill said:
			
		

> Concentration. Fishook. More boomerangs. After the initial round if the twins full boomeranged the weakest one that wasn't Gareth that would have taken the target out, either of the battle or for another round. Since Gareth was at one end of the battle line, Halak could start at one end and roll up the line. An unsuspecting Gareth vs that little       with full maneuvers availible would have overwhelmed him. It wouldn't have mattered if the druids were active. Whoever was left would need cocooning. The way RC works, it would have allow Halak to recover all his maneuvers and repeat the whoop ass.




Good in theory, but not in practice, esp. when one looks at the stats involved. The PCs had too high a Fort save to blow the save vs. Boomerang Daze without sneak attack damage, which, after the first round, the boomerang guys weren't getting any more. Without rolling a 1, the PCs were automatically making the save (I think Gareth blew it in the 1st rd on a 1, actually). A crit or two would have made the save harder, but none happened. Even hitting the PCs got a lot harder after the 1st rd, as they weren't flatfooted, since they had ACs around 27 or so. And since Korm had 110+ hp and Luna had 145, they couldn't drop either of them fast enough. 

The only way they could have done it was if they'd concentrated on Korm or Luna and Halak had as well, but he was fixated on Gareth. And for the boomerang twins, it didn't make sense IC to have them concentrate, since they had no idea (nor did Halak) about the cocoon option or how buff the PCs were. 



> _Fear the incorporeal gninja_




They do. Oh yes, they do!


----------



## shilsen

*Handled between sessions:*

With the battle over, the three Angels join their allies, while the remaining Boromars collect the corpses of Halak and the other dead halfling. Unsurprisingly, the survivor of the duel has to be restrained by them when he discovers that his brother is dead, and is dragged off by three of them, while the last halfling arranges with Hoas for taking away the corpses. 

While that is going on, the next fight begins, between Korrla (an ogre he spoke to when asking the three Angels to follow him) and a shifter. The fight ends quickly, with Korrla grappling the shifter into submission. Afterwards, there is a little bit of a break, while the arena is set up for “a brand new monstrosity” that Hoas announces he has, much to the excitement of the audience. While the break occurs, he comes over and asks the Angels to join him in another room.

They follow him through one of the many doors, which leads to a room with a table and a few chairs. A couple of the warforged guards who were standing outside follow them inside. Hoas drops into a chair and says, “Please – sit. Honestly, you folks had me wondering for the first few seconds, but you pulled it off big time. You just might be the toughest bunch we’ve had in there, though that’s mostly because of the magic. We don’t get many fighters here who cast spells, leave alone throw that kind of power around. I’m kinda curious how you’d do without all of that to back you up. Anyway, reason I wanted to talk is ’cos I’d like you to come back and fight here. I know today you showed because that guy Halak challenged you, but maybe you’d consider a return. We don’t pay gladiators here, but you get the opportunity to bet on yourself, and you could make a tidy sum that way. I can maybe even find a match or two where you could use that magic of yours, Nameless. Whaddaya say?”

“Well,” says Gareth, “To deny us the use of our spellcasting is like denying a pure fighter use of some of his abilities.  If we have to give up some of our training, what will a non-spellcaster have to give up?  See my point?  I understand the ‘no spellcasting because it may damage the arena,’ and we can restrict ourselves to that, but we cannot give up our abilities.”  

Hoas chuckles. “Little paranoid, aren’t ya?”

The Endless Blade replies, “Considering the way they got beat on and had to go hide in that cocoon thingy, are you surprised?” Hoas just looks slightly surprised but doesn’t respond.

Gareth ignores it too and then says, “Plus spellcasting of our level is a rare sight to see.  How many people in your audience have seen that cocoon that was around me?  They were awed by it, for sure.  If anything it should draw a bigger spectacle.”

This time, Hoas guffaws. “No offense, but you sure weren’t paying attention. There was a lot more catcalling than being awed out there.” He shrugs. “You gotta understand, most of these people don’t understand much about magic, so one spell’s just like another to them. And doing what you guys did, though it makes perfect sense and got you the win, just looks a little dodgy to them, since they’re more about appreciating the straight up, in your face, hacking and slashing. But they always like a good kill, which you gave them, so it's okay.”

Gareth shrugs. “Given that, we would like to show up again.  That was exhilarating – to have all those people cheer and boo.  In fact, we were the underdogs and we came out on top.”

“Actually,” Hoas says, “By the time we got done with the bets, you guys were up 2-1. That’s why you made a profit of half what you bet. But, more to the point, I’m glad to know you’re interested in being back. I'll see what I can find to challenge you guys.”

“The next time we do this'll be in four days. You can get in touch with....” Hoas pauses and scratches his chin for a moment, before saying carefully, “If you don't mind, I got a question first.” He looks at Gareth and says, “You’re clearly a worshipper of the Silver Flame. We don’t get many people of your ... faith here, so I’ve got to ask – you don’t have any problems with this, right? I mean, the whole blood sport thing?”

Trying to forestall problems with Gareth having to make up a story, Nameless quickly replies with a snort and a dry laugh. “Show him the money and he gets flexible enough. Especially, if you keep things ‘uncomplicated’ in your choice of his adversaries. Besides we have bills to pay with our new house.”

Hoas nods slowly, looking slightly uncertain, as Nameless continues, “If it interests you, I can summon a number of creatures the likes of which few have seen. What’s more, I can polymorph willing subjects into the form of some of the more exotic creatures we’ve encountered in our travels. Variety and the new are always draws for events such as these, are they not?”

This idea clearly catches Hoas’ attention. “That’s interesting. The critters you summon would be able to fight, right? That could make for a couple of entertaining duels, with you summoning things for a couple of the other fighters to battle. Like I said, we don't normally do magic, and the folks coming here want to see some physical fighting, and it sounds like you could handle that in an interesting way.” He looks thoughtful, but then, after a few seconds, looks back at Gareth. “You didn’t answer my question,” he says.

“No, that should not be a problem,” says Gareth. “There are members of the Silver Flame who visit brothels and drink too much for their own good – but they serve the Silver Flame. What we are doing is not evil – everyone goes in knowing the risks.”

“Yeah,” nods Hoas. “That’s what I say. We’re not doing slavery here or anything. If people wanna fight each other and other people wanna watch, what’s the problem?” A couple of the Angels get the sense that he’s not completely reassured, but he seems more interested in the possibilities Nameless raised. He asks a few questions about what kind of creatures Nameless can summon, how long they’d stay around, and how dangerous they'd be in a fight. 

Finally, he says, “Thanks. I’m looking forward to seeing you folks here again. Like I was saying, next time’ll be the 9th.” Hoas gives the group directions to a particular spot in Firelight, where he says a guide will find them and lead them to the next location. The Angels say they’ll be there and leave.

Once back at the Gray House, Six tells about Fett about the duel, but leaves out the fact that they were doing a sting operation for the Watch. Expecting Fett to be agitated by what happened, Six tells him to stay away from the house until this matter is stabilized and to arrange to drop messages off in the park with the Gatekeepers. If he needs to contact the group faster, he can drop by at his discretion.

Fett, however, isn’t that excitable about it, though he does opine that Saidan will be really pissed, and that killing the halflings instead of just beating them down was a dumb idea. After a little thought, he says that he’ll stay on at the house. Upper Tavick’s is better guarded than any area of Sharn short of Skyway, what with the Deneith Blademark bolstering the Watch and the rich houses all having guards posted outside. So the odds on him being attacked there are very low, and by the time he descends from Upper Tavick’s, he’s always in one of his disguises. So he should be reasonably safe.

With that decided, Six also warns the four warforged guards that there might be problems with the Boromars, so they shouldn’t leave the house alone if they can avoid it.

* * * * * *
The next day, Six travels to the Cannith enclave in Dragon Towers, which takes up the entirety of the giant tower known simply as Cannith Tower. Besides being certainly the largest of the various dragonmarked enclaves, it is also probably the busiest, with Cannith functionaries as well as customers to the various artisans' shops in the tower constantly entering and leaving. Even though Six visits it early in the morning, when the crowds are relatively lower, it takes some time before he can find his way to one of the booths set up to provide information and directions.

“Yes?” asks the young man there. “How can I help you?”

“Hello, I’m Six. I wanted to find out more about the offer and components for warforged. Who might I talk to about this?”

“Oh, the job thing? Well...,” says the man, before going into a quick spiel which replicates whatever Six has heard before, except that he makes it sound like a significantly more positive move than others have. 

The man runs down and looks Six up and down, noting that he is much better equipped than the average warforged. “If you’re interested in components, especially buying them, you can just visit one of the artificer shops attached to the enclave. But you look like someone who might want a custom job and some special expertise. Right? In that case, you need to talk to Jerim, two floors down. Here, I’ll write you a note. Ask anyone there and they’ll show you. He can help you if you’re looking for a job too.”

With the note in hand, Six makes his way down a couple of levels and eventually ends up in front of Jerim d’Cannith, a neatly-dressed man whose office has a number of schematics of warforged components on the walls, as well as a few in display cases. He asks Six to take a seat and inquires what kind of components he is interested in.

“Hello, Jerim. I am Mithral Six of Six. I had an adventure in Xen’drik where I recovered this harness from ancient warforged. It grants increased armor strength and cannot be enhanced with magic. I also can’t remove it. Have you seen anything like this or know anything about it? And in the deal offer, has there been any problem in the administration of it? Also do you know anything about the rumored creation forge ….” Six pauses, momentarily wondering if he should have begun with small talk, but it is too late for that, and he ends, “… that the Lord of Blades was supposed to have?”

A look of interest and recognition crosses Jerim's face as Six mentions his name and then the adventure in Xen’drik, making Six fairly sure that Jerim has managed to place him as a member of the Guardian Angels. The expression quickly changes to partial confusion under the number of questions Six unleashes.

After a moment, Jerim laughs and says, “Wait, let me answer that one at a time. And I’ll start at the end. I’ve probably heard just the same rumors you have, and frankly, I think that’s all they are. Even if the Lord of Blades had found a functional creation forge, he’d need somebody with a powerful Mark of Making to run it. I’m sure you know that House Cannith was involved in the expedition that killed him and dispersed his followers, and no creation forge was found there.”

He continues, “Regarding the offer to the warforged, it’s actually going quite well. A large number of warforged have started working for the House and many are in the process of negotiations. Especially those who’ve been unfairly indentured in the Cogs, whom the House is trying to help buy off their contracts.”

“And lastly, I don’t think I've heard of the kind of harness you’re talking about. From Xen’drik, you say? Interesting. Would you mind letting some of our artificers look at it and see what they can come up with?”

“Actually, let me ask you a few questions in turn. Are you interested in working for House Cannith? And is there any particular reason you’re wondering about the Lord of Blades' supposed forge? Do you have any information to that end? Lastly, are you the same Six who's a member of the Guardian Angels?”

Six nods. “Yes, I’m the same Six. I have seen warforged that seemed new or malformed in the Cogs. One nearly dropped on me. He was dead. His head bashed in. I had read about the Lord of Blades and the Blades of Arakhain. I wanted to find out that resolution. On both issues this is the first time I’ve had to pursue these questions. A simple link that the warforged came from the Lord of Blades is unsupported. When would the artificers want to look at the harness? Working for the House would depend on the job. However, if it involves destroying evil, aberrations or fights to the death, I am sure the Guardian Angels will be interested.”

“New warforged?” asks Jerim, with evident curiosity. “When did this happen? As for the Lord of Blades and the Blades of Arakhain, yes – unfortunately they were killed during the attack on his forces. I believe they were actually the ones who slew him, losing some of their members in the battle, and the rest were killed by his followers. I’ve only heard about it, since I wasn’t part of the expedition.” He smiles. “I have no interest in visiting the Mournland.”

“The Blades actually helped a great deal with the setting up of the offer to the warforged from the House, and were quite helpful to Baron Merrix in other ways too. They too were concerned about new warforged, and I’m actually the person they met when first coming here to the House. I put them in contact with the Baron. They were good people and their death is a pity. Regarding working for the House, I meant taking up the offer for employment you were asking about, but I presume as part of the Guardian Angels, that’s not something you'd be interested in.”

“And about the harness, I could probably arrange something right now, if you’ve got a couple of hours to spare. There should be no difficulty in finding an empty laboratory and we always have skilled artificers on hand.”

Six replies, “I saw the warforged when I first came to Sharn five months ago. Since my comrades and I were pulled in other directions, and being Sharn there were others to investigate, I didn’t pursue the event. Too bad I can’t speak to the Blades about what happened. And now would be a fine time to check the harness. If this will take some time, please send a message to my comrades at our new home. It is the Gray House in Ocean View, in Upper Tavick’s.”

Jerim pulls out a sheet of parchment, while saying, “Five months ago? I don’t have much of the details, since I only spoke to the Blades about it in passing, but I think that was around the time they saw what they thought were strange warforged too. I think only the Baron and a couple of his especially trusted advisors discussed those details with them.”

He passes Six the parchment to write a note to the other Angels. Once he is done, Jerim rises and asks Six to follow him. Heading outside, he gives the note to an attendant to have delivered, and leads Six down a couple of levels, till they are four floors below the main entry level to the enclave. 

Here, there are much fewer outsiders moving around, and far more people who look like they are workers for the House. Jerim leads Six to a large laboratory and asks him to wait for a bit. He walks out, and returns about five minutes later with two men and a dwarf. “These gentlemen are experts in warforged physiology and components,” he says. “They’ll examine you and see what they come up with. I’ll probably be upstairs in my office when you’re done. Send me a message if you need anything. Don’t worry – you’re in as good hands as you could be in Khorvaire.”

Jerim leaves and one of the men asks Six to lie down on a large table, which has been hollowed out to accommodate a figure of Six’s dimensions and perhaps a little larger. While he does so, the other two men bring out some tools. While they are doing so, another three people enter, one half-elf and two warforged. They are wheeling a large covered cart, which they uncover to display even more tools, none of which Six has seen before.

“Lie back and relax,” says the first man. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

Suspicious about what their intentions are, Six studies them carefully and asks, “Who are you and what are you about to do? Have you seen anything like this harness before? What kind of components have you usually encountered. What happen to them?”

The men exchange glances, seeming surprised at the multiple questions, giving Six no indication that they are about to try something underhanded. Finally, the man who spoke first replies, “I am Rowal. Jerim told us that the harness you’re curious about is from Xen’drik and non-removable, so we’re going to examine it first, and then, if you’re fine with it, test it. We’ll probably start with checking on magical auras and properties and go on to seeing how it’s attached to you, if we have any ideas for removal, what effect it’s having on you, if we can find something approximating to it that help us understand it, and so on.”

He smiles and adds, “Lots of possibilities, you see. As for what components I’ve encountered, there are all kinds. Weapons, physical augmentations, information gathering devices – you name it. If we ever find a really unusual one, we try to see if we can understand how it works and replicate it. That’s all.”

Rowal smiles again. “Don’t worry – even if we haven’t seen this one, we’ve seen lots of strange items. You’ll be just fine. Any other questions?”

Six considers bringing in the rest of the group. Which, he reminds himself, will include the usual wrestling with their limited perceptions, the possibility of creating more enemies, and the general agony of the Angels’ interaction with society of any kind. _Nah, I’ll get more answers faster alone. And if this goes wrong, I won’t have to deal with those little Talenta guys._

“No,” he says, “Let’s get started.”


----------



## Solarious

shilsen said:
			
		

> ....and the general agony of the Angels’ interaction with society of any kind.



What? I demand a rewrite! The Angels don't interact with society, they grab it by the throat and try to pour Achemist's Spark down the pipe!


----------



## Rackhir

Solarious said:
			
		

> What? I demand a rewrite! The Angels don't interact with society, they grab it by the throat and try to pour Achemist's Spark down the pipe!




Oh, just wait until you see what Luna does at the most important social event of the Year in Sharn...


----------



## Solarious

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Oh, just wait until you see what Luna does at the most important social event of the Year in Sharn...



 She ends up with half-a-dozen contracts on her head? 

I demand guaranteed happiness!


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Oh, just wait until you see what Luna does at the most important social event of the Year in Sharn...




That reminded me of this:



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> ... among other things she explained to the Cyran ambassador how to deal with the fact that his nation blew up, got freaky with a gnome, and decided that a locked, guarded door in the home of the wealthiest family in Sharn is clearly an invitation to go inside.




Me, I feel sorry for the gnome.  He was probably crushed to death by her bulbous, shifter man-weight.  (Because, let's face it, _warforged_ are more female than shifters).


----------



## Rackhir

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Me, I feel sorry for the gnome.  He was probably crushed to death by her bulbous, shifter man-weight.  (Because, let's face it, _warforged_ are more female than shifters).




We're sorry to report that GoodKingJayIII was mysterously killed today. Apparently a large bear went on a rampage in his home and ripped him to shreds. Authorities believe that the fires which consumed the building were the results of a gas leak. A side effect of the massive distruction of the interior most likely.

Comemorative donations can be made at. 

www.don't_Piss_off_Psychotic_shifter_druids.org

Where they will be used to purchase chocolate and other passifying agents to hopefully spare the rest of us his fate...


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> We're sorry to report that GoodKingJayIII was mysterously killed today. Apparently a large bear went on a rampage in his home and ripped him to shreds. Authorities believe that the fires which consumed the building were the results of a gas leak. A side effect of the massive distruction of the interior most likely.
> 
> Comemorative donations can be made at.
> 
> www.don't_Piss_off_Psychotic_shifter_druids.org
> 
> Where they will be used to purchase chocolate and other passifying agents to hopefully spare the rest of us his fate...



 I sent the above to Luna's player and she was roundly amused. Especially since she had actually sworn dire vengeance on GoodKingJayIII on reading his comment.

I haven't quite got to the Luna hijinks yet, but here's the preceding bit to it. Which has some things that may have intriguing short and long term effects for the group:

* * * * * *
The Cannith artificers work on Six for the better part of an hour, poking and probing, running various instruments over his body and the harness. They also break off sometimes to have discussions amongst themselves, the bits of which Six overhears underlining the fact that the harness is quite new to them.

Eventually, Rowal says, “Now we’re going to try and figure out how tightly that thing’s attached to you. This is going to hurt, possibly a lot, so you should let us render you unconscious.” He reaches across to a tray and picks up a wand.

“No,” says Six quickly. “I’d rather be conscious?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” says Six with certainty. 

“Okay.” Rowal speaks to one of the warforged and he walks over and shuts the door. “Try to relax,” says Rowal to Six, with a little shrug, “This _will_ hurt a bit.”

He is not kidding, Six quickly learns, since the artificers begin to try to investigate under the harness, to create a little space between it and Six’s body, to cut away a small piece of it, and other experiments that involve the use of probes, clamps, scalpels and other unpleasant pieces of equipment.

Six lies there stoically for the most part, his slightly limited sensitivity to sensation combining with his fairly regular experience of pain to let him withstand the little twinges. He cannot contain the odd grunt or twitch at a particularly painful moment. The worst comes when Rowal and those working with him attach a large rod with multiple clamps to one side of the harness and slowly force it about an inch away from Six’s metal and wooden ‘flesh,’ which makes Six feel like part of his side is being ripped off.

Rowal peers through the small gap using a light at the tip of a wand and then looks up at Six. “Hold on, now. This will hurt.”

_More?_ thinks Six, his metal jaws already clamped together as hard as he can.

Rowal reaches for a tool which is unusually flat and flexible, and has a couple of cutting edges at the end. Then he carefully inserts it through the gap. It takes a few tries until he is finally satisfied, each of which feels to Six as if someone was jabbing a knife inside his chest, and then Rowal nods with satisfaction and squeezes something on the tool.

Five seconds later, the door flies open as half a dozen Cannith employees look in worriedly, to see a groaning warforged being held down by two other warforged and a couple of other workers. “What the hell was that?” asks one of the people at the door. “I heard that scream down the corridor!”

“Damnit!” says Rowal irritatedly, from where he stands a little distance away, holding the tool, where he leapt to avoid Six’s flailing arms. “Shut that door! We’re fine here. Right, Six? Six? Let him go.”

The others do, and Six, who’s just recovering from the incredible pain of the moment that Rowal cut whatever he did, sits up. “Sorry,” he says, a little apologetically, “But that _really_ hurt.”

“I did tell you it would,” grumbles Rowal. He waves away the people at the door, who do leave, talking among themselves. “Anyway, we’re done here. Give me a minute.” He is joined by two of the others who have been assisting him, and they go over to a nearby table. After a couple of minutes of discussion, they come over with a small bowl, which has a dark grey lump of material in it. 

“This is what I got out of you,” says Rowal. “I’ve frankly never seen anything like this harness. It’s semi-organic, and it’s extended what I can only describe as roots into your entire chest structure. This material’s what the roots are made of, and there’s a big lump of it in the center, where you have the slot that normally one can insert an amulet or similar item into.”

“Is it … alive?” asks Six, having bad memories of Kizmet, the Key, Luna’s symbionts and other sentient or semi-sentient items they have encountered.

“No. Or not that I’m seeing any sign. But some magical items and a few non-magical ones can change and adapt to a user without being strictly alive.” Rowal scratches his chin. “We could possibly remove it, but that would definitely be risky and would be a long, costly process, since we’d effectively be cutting the entire thing off you and keeping you alive by magically healing you throughout the process. And,” he adds a little severely, “You would be unconscious during the process.”

“I may want that done later,” says Six, “But not right now. Thank you.”

“All right. Do you mind if we take a few further schematics of the harness? I want to see if we can replicate the effects. And I’d really like to know where you found it.”

Six considers for a moment, but the Key is safely bestowed now, and more than enough people know about it already. “We found it on an ancient warforged on an island near Xen’drik.”

“Really?” says Rowal, his eyes lighting up with interest. “Somebody get me a pad.”

…

An hour or so later, Six walks back into the Gray House. Luna meets him at the door and notes the warforged’s worried demeanor, despite his unchanging face. “What’s wrong?”

Six scratches at the harness on his chest. “I think I have a fungus.”

* * * * * * 
A more pleasant visit for Six is to the long-planned meeting with the Tyrants, the third, and significantly most subtle, of the criminal organizations in Sharn. Fett, who has arranged the meeting, accompanies him to the location, a luxurious inn located in the Dragoneyes district in Lower Tavick’s. 

On the way, Fett tells Six that the inn specializes in fulfilling fantasies. Velvet’s provides companions of all races and genders, most of them actually changelings, who will also enact any role that the client chooses. The inn provides not just companionship but also plays out any scenario a client wants, so a nervous groom could play out a marriage proposal, a couple could spend an evening with the child they lost during the War, or anything of the kind. 

When they reach the inn, the two are quickly taken through into a private room, where two changelings are waiting for them. They greet Fett and Six but do not share their names. Instead, one of them (his companion simply sits silently and watches throughout the meeting) says to Six that he is curious about the reasons for the meeting, also adding that he has been following the Guardian Angels’ increasing fame in the city with interest.

Six replies, “My group has had some unfortunate run-ins with both Daask and the Boromars recently, and I am looking for news about Daask. I have been told that your organization specializes in information. Can you tell me about the origins of Daask?”

The changeling says, “Yes, I can. Most well-informed people in Sharn know that Daask first made a power play against the Boromars two years ago, and the two groups have been fighting ever since. But Daask was building its power in Khyber’s Gate for over a decade. What significantly less people know is that there’s now a Daask gang operating in every city in Breland, though the one here is by far the largest. What even less people know is that all of the Daask gangs answer to the Hags of Droaam.”

Six, who already knows about the connection with Droaam due to the letter from Sora Teraza they found during the attack on the Daask payroll months ago, says, “I know a little about the Droaam aspect already. Do you have any idea what the hags want?”

“That is still unclear. I personally believe it has something to do with Dragon’s Blood.”

“What is that?” asks Six. “I think I’ve heard of it.”

“It’s the costliest and most addictive drug in Sharn. Only Daask produces them, and we’re fairly sure that some of the ingredients, if not the entire thing, come in from Droaam. There are three kinds, but they all enhance dragonmark abilities and sorcerous magic.”

“So why do you think that is of primary importance to the hags? And where can one get some?” asks Six.

“It is only sold in the shadow markets of the Cogs. And the reasons why I think it may be important are too long to get into, but let’s just say that Daask spends a lot of time and effort on it. You may find it worthwhile to investigate.”

“All right,” says Six. “Thank you. Something else I wanted to know is where the Tyrants stand with regard to the Boromars and Daask. After all, the kind of violence and trouble they cause must create difficulties and be bad for business, right?”

“Not really,” says the changeling, with a smile. “We’ve never had much trouble finding a space for our own activities without the Boromars interfering, and their troubles with Daask haven’t either. Our areas of specialty are not ones they are much good at, and we don’t get involved with the things they squabble over.”

“All right,” says Six, “But wouldn’t it be beneficial for you if there was only one gang in power?”

The smile broadens. “Think about it. If the Boromars are the only ones in power, with nothing to interfere with their operations, they are liable to think of increasing their control or simply being more … troublesome to others. Being occupied with Daask keeps them more tractable.” He smiles at Six. “Your group has done some interesting things towards keeping things in balance between the two.”

Though he is unable to grimace, Six’s tone expresses the same emotion, as he mutters, “I’m glad you’re appreciative.” Then he adds, “So you’re not really interested in helping one side or the other?”

“No. We might, however, while not acting ourselves, look kindly on those keeping things in flux, so to say. People like your group, for example. Why else did you think we agreed to meet with you?”

Six shrugs. “I was wondering. And I appreciate it. Thank you for the information.”

“You are welcome. If we can think of anything else that might help you – and us – we will contact you through Fett.” The changeling looks at Fett, who has also sat silently through the entire discussion. “He is achieving quite an effective presence in the Sharn underworld.” Fett simply nods in acknowledgement.

Since it is quite clear the meeting is over, Six again thanks the changeling and then Fett and he leave. The last he sees of the Tyrants is the two changelings, watching him leave with an inscrutable expression on their partly featureless faces.

* * * * * *
A few hours later, one of the warforged guards announces the arrival of two guests. They are Lalia and Tasra, wearing different but equally fetching darkweave gowns, arriving to pick the Angels up for their visit to the Tain Gala. Most of the Angels are ready to go, perhaps all of them besides Gareth better dressed than they have ever been before. The fact that Gareth cast an _eagle’s splendor_ on all except Six (who is permanently enhanced in that way due to the gifts from the Flame) may have something to do with it too. Lalia greets Gareth with a hug and a kiss, and Tasra’s greeting for her date, Korm, is possibly even more effusive. 

Then she links her arm through his, smiles innocently, and says, “Lalia told me you have a really big sword. Is that true?”

After just a moment’s surprise, Korm grins widely and says, “Yes, I do. Maybe I’ll show it to you later today.”

Tasra smiles back as before, though now there’s a gleam in her eye. “I’ll look forward to it. As you can expect, in a city like Sharn we don’t get to see many druids. So most of what I know of them is hearsay. Like hearing that they can make anything grow.”

Korm’s grin widens. “You have _no_ idea!”

Lalia rolls her eyes and asks Gareth, “Are you ready to go?” He says apologetically, “Not yet. Luna’s not ready yet. She’s not exactly very comfortable with the whole dressing up thing. Of course, if she was as beautiful as you,” he adds gallantly, “She might reconsider it.”

The Angels and the two Sentinel Marshals sit and chat, and are joined a few minutes later by Luna, who actually looks surprisingly attractive in her gown. Both of the twins stare in surprise, and it takes a second for the Angels to realize that they’re not looking at Luna but at Fett, who enters behind her. Then Tasra giggles loudly, and has a coughing fit, just as Lalia turns around to stare (or glare) at her.

“Are you all right?” asks Korm solicitously. “Yes, just fine,” says Tasra, recovering remarkably quickly. She then rises, even as Fett walks up. He bows, smiles urbanely and says, “I am Fett. If you recall, we met at the Tain Gala a few months ago, when I was a member of the Blades of Arakhain. I am now being employed by the Angels.”

Tasra smiles back and says, “I think I remember meeting you.” Then she turns to her sister and says, her tones dripping with sugary sweetness, “Lalia, do _you_ remember meeting Fett?” 

Lalia’s responsive glare should have killed Tasra on the spot, but instead, she smiles too, though it is slightly forced, and says, “I believe so. It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

“Yes,” says Fett with a smile and a nod, his demeanor as natural and unruffled as Lalia’s is clearly uncomfortable. “The pleasure is all mine.”

From the side, Tasra again has a louder coughing fit, within which a couple of the keener-eared Angels hear a “cough *busted* cough”. Lalia again quickly looks at her and says, “We really should make a move.”

Uncertain what is going on, but realizing that something is clearly making Lalia uncomfortable, Gareth rises quickly, and the other Angels – all very curious about what just transpired – follow suit. Fett sees them to the door and says he will be there when they return.

Waiting at the nearby dock is an especially large and ornate skycoach, one which Gareth has hired for the evening and had ordered to pick up the twins before coming to the Gray House. Once they are seated on the comfortably cushioned seats in the cabin, the skycoach heads northwest, towards the center of the city. At the same time, it angles upwards towards the glittering lights of Skyway, floating far above the rest of the city. In the darkening evening sky, the passengers see other skycoaches rising, both above and below theirs. Nameless, who decided to flaunt/exercise his powers, flies beside the vehicle and gets an even better view. Beside the skycoaches, there are a few other forms of conveyance that he can see. Off in the distance, a couple are rising through the air on what can only be a pegasus, and closer at hand, a pair of giant owls are winging their way silently upwards from the towers of Central Plateau.

Their skycoach eventually reaches and rises over the side of Skyway, revealing what seem to be buildings and towers floating on a giant cloud. As they pass over Azure and Brilliant, the two wards of Skyway, the Angels can see that they are very similar, consisting primarily of large estates unlike anything found in the lower towers, with large spaces of cloud making up the landscape in between. The cloud-stuff is evidently quite solid, since people are walking over it. Lalia and Tasra, who know the place well, point out various sights of Skyway as they fly over.

The skycoach eventually stops among many others clustered near the entrance to the largest and most palatial of the estates, which is built around a manor that would make the average prince’s palace look slovenly. A set of stairs are lowered and the passengers disembark, to join and follow the other guests already walking along a brilliantly lit avenue towards the main door. Despite the degree to which they have prepared themselves, the Angels are significantly outshone by a number of the other guests, such as the woman walking ahead of Six with what look like a dozen blood opals in her hair, each as lustrous as the one from the forgewraith they sold. 

As they reach and pass through the main entrance, the Angels note that dozens of armed guards are present. None of them come close to the guests except for a quartet at the doorway, who quickly check the invitations of some of the guests (the Angels among them), though most – as regular visitors – are not accosted. As they pass by, Luna notes that two men stand silently in separate shadowed alcoves near the door, unseen by anyone lacking her supernaturally keen vision. Each man wears a circlet identical to the one worn by the man checking for magic at the Burning Ring, and each wears a symbol on his clothing indicating his membership in House Medani, whose members form the Warning Guild. Since the Angels have left the majority of their magic items safely ensconced in the vaults of House Kundarak, they are not stopped.

After passing through a large entrance area, the group enters through a wide set of open double doors into a giant hall, elaborately bedecked for the Gala. Two broad sets of stairs curl up the opposite wall to meet high above the floor at a large landing in the center, where two guards stand beside a closed door. Open doors lead from the hall, one in front and one each to left and right, revealing a large ballroom with musicians, a huge banquet area with loaded tables, and a comfortable sitting area. Most of the people already present are in the main hallway, talking among themselves.

Luna looks around the chamber with an air of disinterest, and reaches up to scratch behind an ear. “I think I’m going to be _really_ bored.” 

Luckily for her, and very unfortunately for her companions, she is completely and utterly wrong.


----------



## julia1737

*I think not*

In response to GoodKingJayIII  post # 294 and later commentary:

3. A general question for both you, Shil, and the players: everyone seems content right now to offer services to various contacts throughout the city. Being the most powerful characters in Sharn, does anyone have Bigger Plans (tm)? Maybe Gareth wants a more powerful political position in the Church? Nameless looking for more respect from the Guild? Maybe Six will use his newfound citizenship and artistic clout to mingle with muckity-mucks and garner himself a powerful bureaucratic position? Basically, what are the PCs Big Plans?

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Just contend to do contract work in Sharn???
I THINK NOT!!
I do more before breakfast than most characters do in a freaking year!
I beg your pardon!
Indeed!!
I don't suppose anyone has bothered to mention my plan to breed a new and deadlier generation of Druid Shifter Impure Princes or other lethal genetic/class combination to continue fighting the good aberation fight and keep the world safe.  I guess that is pretty aimless and unambitious.  Why don't you tell us what you're doing.  Oh yeah... you wanted to be the boss of some stupid area.  That's really important!  Like there aren't billions of petty tyrants ready to fill in that void when it come up!  Listen - I don't care whose in charge of what - I'm the boss of me.  And no one else!

Oh, and by the way..... though if I have to explain the sinuous and ovrerwhelmingly erotic allure of the shifter female to you, then the point is mute, because clearly you're either  an angry a-sexual misogynist who is threatened by strong smart women, or you're just a very deeply disturbed individual.  And I pity you.  

But regardless, if I ever run into you, I will have to empower flame strike you because  you should  show respect to a lady and we can't  have fools like you running around setting  a bad example for the children!  

Sincerely,
Luna


----------



## Vorput

> Tasra smiles back as before, though now there’s a gleam in her eye. “I’ll look forward to it. As you can expect, in a city like Sharn we don’t get to see many druids. So most of what I know of them is hearsay. Like hearing that they can make anything grow.”




... I... but... ewww...



> Sincerely,
> Luna




....eek!


----------



## Michael Tree

julia1737 said:
			
		

> Oh, and by the way..... though if I have to explain the sinuous and ovrerwhelmingly erotic allure of the shifter female to you




Korm squeaks like a frightened little girl and hides under his bed.


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

julia1737 said:
			
		

> ...
> 
> Sincerely,
> Luna




You know I love you, baby.


----------



## ajanders

I suppose an Eberron bear-girl is like an anime catgirl?


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> I suppose an Eberron bear-girl is like an anime catgirl?



 Hah!

I don't read/watch anime, so I couldn't say. Do anime catgirls blow stuff up all the time, have an attention span the size of ... well, something really small, and have no conception of fear?


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

I think you could easily apply one or all of those things to any number of catgirls.

Me, I cowered in fear this entire weekend, trying to avoid some sort bear-mauling reprisal.  By the time I went to bed on Sunday I figured the worst was over.

Then I woke up and I was on fire.


----------



## Seekerofskill

ajanders said:
			
		

> I suppose an Eberron bear-girl is like an anime catgirl?




FYI - Luna is fat by a special item, her regeneration band has this side effect. She is hairy by the nature of shifters in Shilsen's Eberron. She will be able to change both conditions next level and neither should be pointed out to her at any level.


----------



## Rackhir

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> I think you could easily apply one or all of those things to any number of catgirls.
> 
> Me, I cowered in fear this entire weekend, trying to avoid some sort bear-mauling reprisal.  By the time I went to bed on Sunday I figured the worst was over.
> 
> Then I woke up and I was on fire.




Well I'm glad to see your health plan covers rezing. Did it spring for True Rez or did you have to suck up the level loss.

BTW. We've just leveled to 12. I'll try and update Nameless soon, though it's mostly just a bump to his skills. The extra summoning slot from lv 6 of Alienist is nice though. Only 4 more till transcendance!


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Well I'm glad to see your health plan covers rezing. Did it spring for True Rez or did you have to suck up the level loss.




You're assuming that I died.


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> Isn't Gareth contemplating Blackguard every second day now?




Everyday now.  Every second day is normal for a paladin.



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Of course, they could have just gone for nonlethal damage at that point, but nobody considered it. Six probably would have, but he wasn't in the fight.




I thought about it, and then it quickly left my head when I realized most of your mobs are packing 30-40 AC and are damn hard to hit without taking a -4.  Sides,  Gareth isn't upset that he killed EVIL people.  Just because they are associates of powerful evil people makes no difference.  Gareth will not cower....sides we will have to fight them eventually - might as well be now.

Now lets say Gareth's sword had the option to do non-lethal damage, Gareth would turn that option off, thank god the sword doesn't have that option.

Anything worth smiting is anything worth killing I always say.


----------



## Furby076

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Well of course.  Ranged/flanking specialists and a heavy-duty warrior type vs. a paladin and his primary caster friends?  It'd be like sending three fighters in there and telling them they couldn't use half their feats.




Gareth made that exact same point when arranging the fight.  When they said we couldn't use spells I asked if the fighters couldn't use their specially trained abilities...I got a weird look and won the debate.


----------



## shilsen

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Then I woke up and I was on fire.




Don't you hate when that happens? 

Note to self: Have not yet had Gareth wake up on fire. Consider potential methods of making it happen.



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> I thought about it, and then it quickly left my head when I realized most of your mobs are packing 30-40 AC and are damn hard to hit without taking a -4.




All buffed up and raging, Halak was at a 24, which isn't too bad.



> Sides, Gareth isn't upset that he killed EVIL people. Just because they are associates of powerful evil people makes no difference. Gareth will not cower....




I don't know. That expression when he first heard of them using no armor had a teensy bit of cower in it 



> ...sides we will have to fight them eventually - might as well be now.




If you insist 



> Now lets say Gareth's sword had the option to do non-lethal damage, Gareth would turn that option off, thank god the sword doesn't have that option.




The Endless Blade was squarely behind the "smite 'em, smite 'em good" option.



> Anything worth smiting is anything worth killing I always say.




That's like Luna. 

Except in her case, replace "worth smithing" with "inflammable".


----------



## shilsen

And here is the long promised, extra long saga of what Luna did to the Tain Gala:

* * * * * * 

*It's Party Time!*

Lalia says, “We’re right on time. Lady Celyria hasn’t declared the Gala open yet.” She and Tasra begin to point out some of the particularly well known people already present. A tall, beautiful and incredibly well dressed elf who forms the center of a small group chatting around her is Baron Elvinor Elorrenthi d’Phiarlan, the head of her House. Nearby stands the rotund and bald Lord Mayor of Sharn, Cathan ir’Demell, whom the Angels recognize from the award ceremony at the festival of Brightblade. He looks around the room with pale blue eyes, talking simultaneously with a slim, serious-looking man, whom they saw at the Council meeting – Javan Tomollan, the incredibly rich Council member from Upper Central. 

On the other side of the room, having stopped their conversation to look at the Angels is a trio of halflings – Saidan Boromar, Mala, and Ilyra. That is, Mala and Ilyra look, while Saidan glares. The group they are with includes a number of gnomes, among them Thurik Davandi. Next to him stands Thurian/Killian, who smiles brightly at the Angels, looks at Saidan, and grins even more broadly back at them. All except the three Boromars are listening to a nattily dressed gnome who is expounding on something with great gusto. Tasra identifies him as the author and playwright Kessler, famous across Khorvaire for his wit as well as his willingness to aggravate people in authority, as exemplified in his satirical The Battle of the Five Ducks (skewering the rulers of the Five Nations), one of the bestsellers of the last century.

At this point, there is the peal of a bell and the door at the top of the steps opens, to let in an elegant half-elven woman, followed by four younger half-elves. She looks around the chamber and smiles down at everyone below, and perhaps it is a trick of the light, but each of the Angels feels like he or she was given a moment of especial attention. Then she says, “Greetings! I, as most of you may know, am Celyria ir’Tain. I welcome both those of you who are regular visitors and those who are new to my home. Here,” and she indicates those beside her one by one as she identifies them from youngest to oldest, “Are my children Daral, Cariana, Cyra, and my son Hass, taking time away from Parliament to join us.”

Celyria smiles again and continues, “Before I declare the Tain Gala for this month open, let me also welcome one of our irregular but always valued visitors, the ever-entertaining Kessler,” at which point the gnome raises a glass of wine to her, “As well as a group that we have all heard much of in the recent months, the Guardian Angels.” Lalia says quietly, “Bow.” The Angels comply, with varying degrees of expertise, and the lady nods. She again addresses the room, “Please – make yourselves at home,” and descends, along with her children.

The people in the main chamber, most of whom have evidently been waiting for Celyria’s appearance, promptly spread out, many heading for the other rooms, some attempting to get close to one or other of the ir’Tains, and some continuing to speak to those they were engaged with. 

“Time to enjoy ourselves,” says Lalia, pulling Gareth towards the ballroom. “Let’s dance.” He follows her happily, but the same isn’t true for Korm, who finds his arm being tugged by Tasra. “Come on, Korm,” she says, “Let’s show them how it’s done.”

If not for his natural complexion, the Gatekeeper would have gone dead pale. Instead, he just goes slack-jawed for a moment, glances helplessly at his companions, and then complies, with a muttered, “Certainly.” 

Luna and Nameless follow, after making a quick stop at the food section. By the time they arrive at the ballroom, Lalia and Gareth are twirling around the dance floor, Gareth displaying more than a little training in this area. Not that he can show much, however, since Lalia is plastered very closely to him. Korm, who has actually been putting up a remarkably good show himself, mostly just by following Tasra’s lead and trying to avoid stepping on her, finds her similarly happy to get as close, if not closer, to him. A few of the watching people titter and whisper quietly among themselves at the display. Luna and Nameless, watching, exchange glances, and then say simultaneously, “Don’t even think about it!”

Six, while marginally curious about this human activity of moving in time to music, is also watching the movements of people in the other rooms. He notes that there seems to be an intricate little social dance going on off the dance floor too. People are constantly talking in small groups, which split up, with each individual joining another group, which then splits up, and so on. People seem to communicate with glances, nods, a raised glass, a tap on the shoulder, or even just brushing shoulders as they pass. There is a strange shared code here, one which the Angels do not share.

Meanwhile Gareth, who is enjoying the dance despite his mild discomfort at Lalia’s closeness in public, feels a tap on his shoulder, and hears a voice say, “May I cut in?” He turns to see a muscular elf in a traditional Valenar cloak, who looks past him at his partner and says, “Hello, Lalia.” Lalia looks momentarily startled and then says, “Hello, Caerlyn.” The elf repeats, “May I cut in?” Gareth replies, “It’s up to the lady.” Lalia frowns slightly and then says, “It’s okay, Gareth. I’ll be with you in a bit.” He bows and walks away to join the others. 

Korm, seeing Gareth leave, and figuring that he shouldn’t risk it any longer, says, “Let’s take a break.” Tasra, though clearly reluctant, agrees. They join the others too, and watch Lalia dancing quite stiffly with the elf, who is talking quietly to her.

“Who’s that?” asks Nameless.

“Somebody called Caerlyn,” says Gareth, a slight furrow in his forehead.

After a second’s thought, Nameless says, “Caerlyn. Wasn’t that the name of the guy she got in a catfight over at the Gala a couple months ago while we were gone? We read about it in the Chronicle.”

Tasra, who has just arrived with Korm and noted the focus of their attention, looks at him and then says sharply, “There was a disagreement with Daera Sorandal, the Valenar ambassador. Caerlyn Tyrell is an ol… a former boyfriend of hers. He heads the mercenary troop Caerlyn’s Blade.”

At this point, a voice addresses Nameless from the rear, and he turns to see Lord Jairan ir’Dain. The Cyran ambassador greets Nameless and makes a little small talk about how he has heard a lot about the Angels recently and about Corven, who he says is working for Prince Oargev in New Cyre. Then he says, “I believe you have all acquired Brelish citizenship. Is there any reason you changed yours?”

_So that’s why he wanted to talk_. “We’re going to be staying in Sharn indefinitely,” says Nameless, “So it made sense. We also needed to do it to buy some property here.”

Jairan’s tone is very mildly disapproving as he asks, “So you gave up Cyran citizenship to buy a house?”

“It’s in a very good part of town.”

Jairan’s expression says that somehow the quality of the building isn’t a persuasive factor for him on the subject of changing national allegiances. Before he can say anything, Luna chimes in.

“Anyway, didn’t your country blow up? So what’s the big deal?”

There is a moment of silence, Jairan evidently trying to work out exactly what Luna said, while her companions and Tasra wait with breathless anticipation. The wait is quickly rewarded. “I mean,” says Luna, now getting animated as she explains her point, “Cyre’s all gone now, right? I haven’t been there, but I heard they’re all dead and stuff and the Mournland’s a horrible place to go. So it sounds like time to move on.”

Jairan is enough of a diplomat to keep a (mostly) straight face, but there’s no disguising the horror in his voice. “I beg your pardon?”

“The way I see it,” Luna continues unabashed, “It’s like having a house that catches fire and burns down. You don’t sit there in the ashes and say, ‘That’s my house.’ You go out and get a new one. So I’m just saying maybe you Cyran guys need to get a new place like ….”

She never gets to finish the sentence. Without a word, Jairan spins on his heel and marches away. Luna looks after him and then turns to her companions, who have expressions of varying degrees of amusement. “What did I say?”

Gareth shakes his head and is about to explain, but his attention is drawn by what sounds like an argument, albeit a whispered one, between Lalia and Caerlyn on the dance floor. He quickly walks over and taps Caerlyn on the shoulder. “May I cut in?”

The elf turns with a glare, but Lalia is quicker, swiftly disengaging and smiling with some relief (and a slightly flushed face) at Gareth. “Yes, you may. I was just about to get you.” She steps across and over to his side. Caerlyn’s glare returns to her, and he snaps, “You think this is a joke? You come here with …,” his gaze moves up and down Gareth, “…this?”

“We’re done, Caerlyn,” says Lalia firmly, turning her back to him and raising her hands to take Gareth’s. 

The elf continues to glare for a moment, and then turns away. “Bitch!” floats back clearly to Gareth and Lalia. Her expression doesn’t register that she notices it, but Gareth instantly steps away, faster than either she or the other Angels have seen him move, and his hand clamps shut tightly on Caerlyn’s left shoulder, spinning him around.

The elf snarls and lifts a hand to his right shoulder, as if reaching for something that would normally be there, but then it drops. Gareth looks at him, calmly but stone-faced. “Apologize to the lady.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“Apologize. Or we take this outside.”

The snarl turns into an anticipatory smile. “Gladly. And then the _bitch_ can bury you.”

Gareth begins to take a step forward, but suddenly Lalia is between the two of them. “No. He isn’t worth it.”

“But…,” begins Gareth, but she shakes her head. “Do this for me. Let the fool go.”

Caerlyn looks at her, back at Gareth, and at her again. “You just saved this fool’s life.” As he turns away, there is not the slightest indication on Lalia’s face that she even heard his parting comment. “Come,” she says, “We have a dance to finish.”

“But,” says Gareth, though he lets her pull him into her arms and back into the dance, “He insulted your honor.”

“My honor is beyond Caerlyn Tyrell. And I don’t want you putting yourself in danger for me. I’m sure you’d beat him, but Caerlyn is very good. As well as being an imbecile who’s not worth the effort.”

“All right,” says Gareth reluctantly, “But only because you want me to.” He pauses for a moment, and then asks, “Who is he? And, if I may ask, what was he so angry about?”

Lalia blushes faintly. “He is … a past mistake. An old boyfriend.” She chuckles half-heartedly. “Being elven, a _really_ old boyfriend, and, as you saw, one who’s both jealous and has a bit of a temper. Not worth the time of day.”

While the two of them continue to speak, the others are chatting and talking among themselves about Luna’s exchange with the ambassador. The druidess is defending her argument as “perfectly logical,” when she feels a hand, placed perhaps half an inch below her left buttock. She spins around, sees nobody, and then looks down at the owner of the hand.

Kessler smiles up at her. “Lady Luna, I believe. We have not had the pleasure of an introduction. I am Kessler. If you’ll allow me to be crass, I was admiring you from across the room and felt I just had to speak to you. Could I get you a drink?”

Amused at the insouciance of the gnome, whose hand, she notices, is still exactly where it was, Luna says, “All right.” Kessler produces two glasses, somehow managing to hold both in one small hand, and hands one over. As Luna throws back the drink in a couple of gulps, his grin widens. “I get the feeling that we are going to get along very well. Care to dance?”

“Sure. Why not? It’ll be more fun than just standing around talking to boring people.”

“Precisely.” Kessler leads Luna onto the dance floor, followed by the incredulous expressions of her companions. 

“Is Luna dancing with a gnome?” Korm says in a wondering tone. “The whole Luna dancing was scary enough on its own, but….” He leaves the sentence unfinished. “Yes,” replies Nameless. “This can’t be good. Then again, it’s Luna in a room full of people. It’s already well past ‘not good’ into ‘who will she _flame strike_?”

Six, standing nearby and watching, is distracted by a voice, and turns to see Ilyra Boromar standing beside him. “Hello, Mithral Six of Six. I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Neither,” she adds, “Was my father.”

“I guess so,” says Six, carefully.

“As you can imagine, he’s not really happy about the Halak incident. Not at all. I can’t say I’m overjoyed either, especially since I thought we had reached an understanding.”

“I thought so too,” says Six apologetically, “But he challenged Gareth and things escalated unfortunately. I would have avoided it if I could. Still, as long as nobody working for the Boromars bothers my friends, I do not think they will be the first to do so.”

“That’s good to know. I’ll do what I can to smooth things over, but I can’t promise anything.”

“Thank you,” says Six. Ilyra nods and walks away. Six watches her go, noting that Kylian is watching from across the chamber. Catching Six’s eye, he winks and raises a glass.

Behind him on the dance floor, Luna and Kessler are putting on a fascinating show. While Luna has little skill at dancing, she is significantly dexterous and very energetic. Her partner, a little over half her height, is significantly dexterous, and has to be even more energetic to avoid being trampled. The result is a fascinating progression around the ballroom floor. Throughout it, Kessler manages to keep up a barrage of banter and flattery. Luna, who had actually been getting fairly bored, finds the little man, whose mixture of complete unselfconsciousness and significant self-confidence (a combination not exactly alien to her) quite interesting, and the fact that he’s the first person to spend a lot of time complimenting her doesn’t hurt.

“And while many of the larger races don’t realize it,” Kessler says as they twirl around, “Gnomes are unusually strong for their size.” He grins roguishly. “Not that we’re necessarily small in every area. In fact, proportionately….”

Luna grins back. “You should show me.”

Without missing a beat, Kessler says, “I would love to. If you happen to be free….”

“No, I meant that you should show me now.”

“Here?”

“Not on the dance floor, of course, but yeah, here. Let’s go upstairs.”

There is the barest second of hesitation and then Kessler’s eyes light up. “Unfortunately, I doubt Celyria will appreciate us wandering off to the family’s private chambers. But there’s the garden through those doors. A very large garden, with many secluded corners. Would that be a problem?”

Luna’s grin broadens. “I’m a druid, silly. You had me at ‘the garden.’”

Kessler’s grin matches her as he stops, takes her hand, and begins to lead her across the floor towards the garden. “No, my dear, you’re being slightly precipitous. I am about to have you at, or more precisely, in the garden.”

As the pair disappears through the doors, the other Angels watch them go. “I really hope they’re just going for a walk,” says Nameless. Korm gives him a dirty look. “Don’t say that. It raises the possibility that they’re not going for just a walk, and if I think of that I’ll have to _flame strike_ myself to make it go away.” As he shudders, Nameless chuckles, “I just meant that I hope she isn’t going to eat him.”

Korm shudders again. “That reminds me. They have some really good food here, Luna said. Let’s go.” The group heads for the banquet hall. There, they settle down with the excellent food and watch the movements of the guests, the twins pointing out more people that they know.

A few of them are also known to the Angels, some personally and some by sight or reputation. They see Sava Kharisa, who walks over to say “hello” and exchange a few friendly words, and Iyanna ir’Talan, who nods from afar as she stands beside an older man with an obvious resemblance, evidently her father Iyan, Lord Commander of the City Watch. Gareth recognizes the Karrnathi ambassador, Syra ir’Taarn, and Sadral d’Deneith, heir to the Deneith enclave. The councilor from Skyway, Evix ir’Marasha, stalks by in a scandalously transparent gown, Lalia commenting that she is also the owner of the Celestial Vista, perhaps the finest restaurant in Sharn. Solirion Torralyn d’Sivis, head of his House enclave in Sharn, walks by talking quietly to Daphane d’Kundarak, who fulfils the same position for the House of Warding, a dwarf who is resplendent in gold and silver, rings gleaming on all her fingers and in the carefully braided locks of her waist-length beard.

Nobody disturbs the Angels, except for one unfortunate fellow, who is slightly less opulently clad than most of the guests, and evidently slightly more inebriated than most of them. He walks over and, without invitation, pulls up a chair near Nameless, and says, “You folks are the Guardian Angels, right?”

“Yes,” says Six, wondering who he is and what he wants while noting that Lalia and Tasra are exchanging amused looks.

“Good. I’ve been hearing a lot and reading a lot about you in the _Chronicle_, so I was wondering, you folks maybe want to collaborate with a more local and patriotic newspaper?”

“What do you mean?”

The man extends a slightly shaky hand. “I’m Haftak ir’Clarn, publisher of the _Sharn Inquisitive_. I was thinking we could do some good business together.”

“Actually, we already have a contract wi…,” begins Six politely, but he is cut off by Nameless. The alienist turns and bestows a baleful look from his now permanently blue-glowing eyes on Haftak, and then says, “Did you know that I can cast an empowered _disintegrate_ on you from across this room?”

Haftak, not really comprehending what he’s saying, gulps and asks, “What?”

“Or,” continues Nameless, “Turn you into a toad. Permanently. And make you think you were always one.”

This time it penetrates, and Haftak lurches to his feet with an alarmed grunt. He looks back and forth from Nameless to the others, some of whom are grinning widely, and then quickly turns and marches away a trifle unevenly.

“What did you do that for?” asks Six.

“The last thing we need now is to get involved with that rag,” says Nameless decisively. Tasra giggles and says, “You’re probably right, but that wasn’t exactly subtle. Very … um, Luna-esque.”

“Speaking of Luna,” says Gareth, “Where is she? It’s been twenty minutes since we saw her.”

At that very moment, behind a dark row of bushes in the garden outside, a very sweaty, tired, naked, and especially, happy Luna looks up into the broad smile of Kessler. “Wow! That was just … wow! I take back anything I ever said about gnomes!”

Kessler, his chin resting very comfortably on her bosom, cocks his head. “What did you ever say about gnomes?”

“That they were untrustworthy, scary, freaky little creatures,” says Luna honestly, “But that’s only because of one or two we’ve met. I’d never say that about you.” She grins and stretches languorously, causing Kessler to bob up and down. “Though I might say freaky.”

The gnome chuckles. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He glances back at the lit windows of the main building. “We need to be getting back. I have a reading to perform.” Then he slides forward, kisses her passionately, and adds, “Though your performance will be hard to top. That ability to change shape, especially in mid … ahem, performance is just priceless.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” says Luna happily, sitting up as he climbs off her. “I’d never tried it before.”

“Definitely worth it,” says Kessler, walking over to pick up their clothes and hand hers back to her. Luna takes them and then looks down at herself. “Oh ! I’m a real mess.” She looks over and grins. “And so are you.”

“Not to worry, my dear.” Kessler makes the gestures of a spell and a second later, leaves and dirt begin to fall off Luna. “_Prestidigitation_. The single most civilized spell in the world. I’ll have you clean shortly.” As Luna looks down and smiles, he studies the moons for a moment. “We’ve been out here for about twenty minutes, right?”

“More or less. Why?”

“Because,” he says with a broad grin, “That means I have some more time than I planned.” The gnome turns and dives, rolling Luna, who has been sitting up, over and back onto the ground. She giggles and looks at him with even greater appreciation than before. “Again?”

“Again!”

About fifteen minutes later, the Angels are just rising from the table when they see Luna and Kessler walk through the door. Luna bends over to kiss Kessler and he bows and heads into one of the other rooms, while she strolls over to rejoin her friends.

“What have you been…,” begins Korm, when Tasra, noting the broad smile and the flush on Luna’s face laughs. “So how was it?” she asks.

“Amazing,” says Luna. “He’s damn skilled. And has amazing energy. We went twice, one after another, and I think he might have been able to do it a third time if he didn’t have to do some stupid reading. I’m beginning to look at gnomes in a very different light. Are they all like that?”

Tasra laughs, “I wouldn’t know,” but before she can say any more, Korm says in a horrified tone, “Oh lord – I need a drink.” As he heads for the drinks table, Gareth and Nameless quickly follow. 

Luna glares after them and then says loudly, drawing the attention of numerous guests, “Idiots! You’re just jealous because you’re not getting some!”

“No,” says Lalia sadly, “That would be me,” and then stops to smack her laughing sister. “So did Kessler and you really…?”

“Oh, yes!” says Luna, with a broad grin. 

“So share already!”

Luna promptly launches into a no-holds-barred narration, until she is brought up short by Tasra looking by her and grinning, even as she notices a scratching sound. Turning around, she sees Six standing right behind her, holding a notepad and scribbling quickly. The warforged looks up as she stops speaking, and says, “Please continue. This is fascinating! I have been trying to find out about your human – and other species’ – mating practices, but Gareth, Nameless and Korm are … useless. I should have been talking to you.”

Luna reaches out to smack Six on the shoulder and then wrings her hand. “Ow! And no, you can’t take notes about it!”

“But you were telling Lalia and Tasra. What’s the difference?”

“It’s just … well, wrong, somehow.”

A grinning Tasra puts in, “Well, you just f**ked a gnome – twice – in the garden of the Tain estate. I don’t think you’re allowed to talk about ‘wrong,’ any more.”

“But it was great!” says Luna. “I had no idea those little guys were so … so …. good! No wonder Kessler said that once you go gnome, you never go back!” 

The sounds of Lalia choking and Six scribbling again are drowned out by another ringing bell and an announcement. The entertainment for the evening is about to begin, starting with a reading from Kessler’s latest piece. Lalia and Tasra, joined by the other Angels, proceed into the sitting area, where chairs and couches have been set up around a central space. Luna heads for the mostly empty banquet room instead. “After all,” she says, “I’ve already seen his first performance of the evening.” 

While they are waiting for Kessler to begin, a young half-elf greets the Angels. He is Hass ir’Tain, Celyria’s oldest child and currently a member of the Brelish Parliament. Hass chats for a little while with them, commenting on their recent fame, and says that he might want to speak with them before he leaves for Wroat in a week’s time, if they are free. The Angels say that they will be happy to do so, and he continues across the room to join his mother and other siblings in the front row.

“I wonder what he wants,” says Gareth. “Probably politics,” says Six, a little mournfully. “Everything in this city is about politics.”

The entertainment begins shortly afterwards, and the Angels find that Kessler’s fame is not undeserved. The gnome has a great facility for humor and satire, as well as being an excellent reader, and his recitation often has the crowd in stitches.

Meanwhile, Luna – finding herself not as hungry as she thought – decides that she needs something else to entertain her. She looks around the main chamber, now empty, and then up the stairs at the two guards at the top. She remembers Kessler’s comment that the area above is off bounds, and typically, decides that this makes it worth investigation. Without a second thought, she strolls up the stairs and attempts to pass through the door. The two guards, who have been watching her with some confusion, move to bar her way.

“Excuse me, er… ma’am,” says one, “But you can’t go in there.”

Luna notes that both of them are fairly young and looking uncertain. “That’s okay,” she says. “I’m a guest. I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Umm, guests aren’t allowed in there.” The guard looks at his partner for corroboration. “Right?”

“I know, I know,” says Luna, “But I really need to use the privy.”

“There are bathrooms downstairs, to the left of…,” begins a guard, but she quickly interrupts. “I know, but I’m already here and I really have to go, and there’s something I need to check on.” Thinking quickly, Luna says, “You can ask Lady Celyria, if you want,” and then steps towards the door.

The guards exchange panicky glances. Luckily for Luna, both of them are new and inexperienced, and have been given this post because there is no possibility that anybody would attempt to enter the living areas of the Tain manor. Unfortunately, such considerations do not hold true where Luna is concerned. She steps through the door and closes it behind her. As she does, she hears the clatter of feet hurrying down the stairs behind her. Despite realizing that one of the guards must have gone for a superior, Luna’s interest is much more squarely on the deliciously forbidden nature of what is in front of her.

She stands at one end of a large corridor, with doors on either side, which opens into a corridor at right angles to it, running left and right. Ornate carvings and a number of beautiful art pieces line the walls and stand in alcoves. Light globes illuminate the area with a soft but Luna opens the closest door and steps in, finding herself in someone’s office. The druid wanders around, opening and closing drawers and cupboards, picking up and reading things. An ornate silver inkstand catches her eye, but after an initial, “Ooh, shiny!” she decides not to take it.

With her preternatural hearing, Luna detects the sound of multiple footsteps hurrying up the stairs. Deciding that it will probably be inconvenient to be caught here, she quickly slips out the door. As she does so, she sees the main door beginning to open. Instantly, Luna transforms into a remarkably ornate poodle, with a fountain-like tuft of hair on the top of her head. The door opens to reveal numerous guards, who rush in. Ignoring the poodle, they fan out and begin to open various doors. Behind them, through the open door, Luna sees a guard in an officer’s uniform beating one of the two young men outside over the head with a cap. 

This, of course, is a perfect opportunity to slip outside, down the stairs, and transform back into her original form, one which you would never ignore. Unless you’re Luna. Hearing the sound of voices around the corner, she nonchalantly turns and trots down to the turn and around it. The voices come from a nearby room, and Luna noses the door open. Walking in, she sees two women – serving maids, from their apparel – talking to each other.

One says, “Hey – where did this dog come from? It’s not one of ours.”

“Grab it quick,” says the other. “The lady won’t be happy if strange dogs are wandering around. And what’s that noise outside?” As she steps outside to investigate, the other moves towards Luna. The druid-dog bares its teeth and growls, but the maid just says, “Quiet, you!” and tries to pick her up. And is promptly rewarded with a nip which, while delivered with the dog’s diminutive teeth, has Luna’s skill and her permanent enhancement to strength behind it. 

The maid yells and waves a bleeding hand, causing the other to turn and grab a broom. Luna considers hurling a bolt of flame at her, just to teach her some manners, but reconsiders and simply jerks the broom out of her hand and then runs out the door. The woman rushes out behind her and says, “Stop that dog!”

A nearby guard looks up from his search and makes a half-hearted effort. Luna darts out of the way and behind him, and sinks her teeth into his rump. As he screams, she runs around him and head-butts another guard in the knee, before bouncing away. _This is FUN!_

Meanwhile, downstairs, a couple of the Angels notice a movement of guards towards the stairs, including a few people in Deneith livery and one of the Medani operatives. “I wonder what’s going on?” asks Lalia. Knowing that she is the likeliest to hear something, Korm turns to Luna, and then remembers that she didn’t come with them. “You don’t think Luna’s done something, do you?” Nameless grimaces at his question, looks around, and then places a hand to his head. “Why were we stupid enough to bring her?” He looks back at the passing guards. “We’ll find out soon.”

A floor above, Luna is having the time of her life. More and more people appear to try and stop her, including more maids, serving-men, guards, and others. The poodle just runs around, biting people here and there and running circles around them all. Whenever she gets a chance, Luna works her way towards the stairs. Not those leading down, but instead those leading to the higher levels of the mansion. Over the course of the next few minutes, she climbs all the way up the next three floors, leaving a trail of bitten, bleeding and thoroughly exasperated people behind her.

Eventually, she ends up on the top floor, and makes her way into an empty room, momentarily leaving her pursuers behind. Knowing that there’s no real option for escaping on foot any more, Luna transforms back into shifter form and then into that of a large owl. With a hoot of triumph, she soars out the window. For a moment she considers returning to the garden and changing back, but she’s finally feeling a little tired. So she just wings her way over Skyway and towards the city below, heading back to the Gray House. _Maybe I should have told the others. Nah! They can take care of themselves._ The owl smiles mentally to itself. _That was a_ great_ party!_

Back at the Tain Gala a Deneith guard, wearing the insignia of a senior member of the Defender’s Guild, walks up to Lady Celyria and whispers to her for a few seconds, and then heads over to the Angels. “Can I speak to you outside?” he says, though the tone is not that of a request. 

They quickly follow him, and are soon in a large room near the main entrance, with a number of guards (a young one of whom has a black eye, they note) and one of the Medani members. It is the last who speaks. “We have a minor problem. Somebody went into the living quarters upstairs and then disappeared. From her description, she is your companion Luna. What do you know about this?”

“Oh lord,” mutters Nameless, “Maybe I should just cast _disintegrate_ on myself!”

Gareth hurries to explain and apologize, saying, “I’m sorry this happened. We didn’t know what she was doing or we’d have stopped her. She is a druid, so that may be why you can’t find her.”

“That could be it,” says their interrogator. “There was evidently a strange – and very vicious – poodle which ran around biting a number of people upstairs and climbing further and further up the different floors, till it got to the top, went into a room and, to the best of our information, flew away.”

Nameless shakes his head and continues to mutter. “No, maybe an empowered _disintegrate_ would be better.”

It takes some detailed explanations – and conjecture – on the part of the Angels, but eventually the combination of Gareth’s diplomacy and the presence of the two Sentinel Marshals persuades the Deneith and Medani members that they had nothing to do with, and no knowledge of, the intrusion.

“Very well,” says the Deneith captain. “You may go. Thank you for cooperation.” As they are rising, the Warning Guild member adds, “I think it would be much better for all concerned if you left now. To search for your missing member, of course.”

“Of course,” says Nameless. The Angels and the twins quickly make their departure, with Korm detouring to grab a few choice pieces from the dining hall on the way out. A few minutes later, they are back in the skycoach, descending quickly towards Sharn.

“That was … interesting,” says Six.

“Yes,” says Nameless, “Just like it was interesting to meet those rakshasas. For a given value of interesting. So, tell me again, why do we keep Luna around?”

“We keep running into people who need to be clawed, bitten or _flame strike_d.”

“Oh, right.”

“On the bright side,” says Korm, “We got out alive and should be done with all our excitement for the evening. Though, with us, you never can tell.”

Gareth, eyeing Lalia speculatively, thinks to himself that the scariest part of the evening hasn’t come up for him yet. _Flame give me strength!_


----------



## ajanders

Seekerofskill said:
			
		

> FYI - Luna is fat by a special item, her regeneration band has this side effect. She is hairy by the nature of shifters in Shilsen's Eberron. She will be able to change both conditions next level and neither should be pointed out to her at any level.




I beg your unenlightened pardon?
The word "fat" never even crossed my mind, much less trickled down to my fingers, poured on my keyboard, and splattered all over the Internet.
"Rubenesque" is the correct expression. Particularly if you don't have items of Flame Resistance.


----------



## Vorput

::chuckles:: Bonus points if the angels can somehow frame Saidan Boromar for everything Luna did...


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> ::chuckles:: Bonus points if the angels can somehow frame Saidan Boromar for everything Luna did...



 I'm imagining the headline in the Sharn Inquisitive:

*SAIDAN BOROMAR HAS SEX WITH KESSLER AT TAIN GALA!*


----------



## Solarious

Good news is, Luna had fun. 

Bad news is, the fact that Luna is having fun is debateable. 



			
				Six said:
			
		

> Gareth, Nameless and Korm are … useless.



Nope, nothing new here.




			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> *SAIDAN BOROMAR HAS SEX WITH KESSLER AT TAIN GALA!*



That gave me a chuckle.



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Note to self: Have not yet had Gareth wake up on fire. Consider potential methods of making it happen.



Make it so!


----------



## zerotkatama

Golly. Six is my favorite of the bunch, and Luna's quickly climbing the ranks to supplant Nameless as my second favorite.


----------



## Furby076

zerotkatama said:
			
		

> Golly. Six is my favorite of the bunch, and Luna's quickly climbing the ranks to supplant Nameless as my second favorite.




No love for the paladin who has seen the most abuse by the DM in the group.


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:
			
		

> No love for the paladin who has seen the most abuse by the DM in the group.



 It's just the love I feel for Gareth. A special gnomish kind of love.


----------



## zerotkatama

Eh. Gareth just seems too much like the arrogant snobby paladins we all loathe and hate. Though he has his moments, I prefer Cedric (That's right, innit?) to Gareth.


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

Now keep in mind these are just my opinions Gareth's character and actions throughout the story and don't have any bearing on the way Gareth (or any other character for that matter) is played.  Not criticism in any way.   



			
				zerotkatama said:
			
		

> Eh. Gareth just seems too much like the arrogant snobby paladins we all loathe and hate.




See, for me it's not even that.  The paladin code is incredibly strict and as such most people will not meet its standards.  I think it's very reasonable that arrogant, self-righteous personalities develop out of this kind of stricture and the powers that come along with it.

What bugs me about Gareth is his paranoia.  He's _detecting thoughts_ and _evil_ almost everywhere he goes.  Now I'm not saying he shouldn't use those abilities, but I think the way in which he uses them belies his confident facade.

If this paranoia had developed from the experience with Kizmet, I'd be more sympathetic, but the reality is that he's always had this personality quirk, and I think that paranoia is really the root of all his problems.  He's a little greedy (mostly for better arms and equipment, rather than monetary wealth) because he's not confident in his own abilities (though he really should be).  He tows the paladin code and lectures most of the time, but he's also not above saving his own skin.  And he refuses to play the politick game because he desperately--though futilely--wants to believe that his faith and powers put him _above_ all that.  He's incredibly brash but lacks self-confidence.

Imagine if, after mouthing off to the Boromars, Lalia had been the target instead of himself?  Would he still be so arrogant if one morning he'd found her lifeless body in a box?  One of these days his actions are going to hurt someone else rather than himself, and he's not going to be there to save the day.

I think Gareth has a lot of potential character development.  He could learn a lot from his new weapon.  Six and Nameless are good at playing politics.  And of course there's Cedric too.

Edit:  I should clarify further and say that it's not that I don't like Gareth.  On the contrary, I think he's had a lot of interesting things happen to him over the course of the campaign and he's got plenty of personality potential.  After all, who couldn't like the self-conscious hero on some level?  But on the other hand, his stubborn refusal to cooperate and paranoia also make him difficult to relate to.

It's like the guy who's always first to say "No, you're wrong and here's why."  Many times, Gareth is that guy.  No one likes to be told they're wrong all the time; it's tactless and rude.  Makes him hard to like.



			
				zerotkatama said:
			
		

> Though he has his moments, I prefer Cedric (That's right, innit?) to Gareth.




I gotta admit the guy's interesting.  Brings into question whether or not one can still be Lawful despite debauchery and drunkness and that sort of thing.  It's a very stark contrast, one that I have a hard time reasoning.  But it also makes the nature of paladinhood mystical and mysterious, not something attained but rather bestowed.  Says a lot about the campaign metaphysics and cosmology, which I really like.


----------



## shilsen

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Now keep in mind these are just my opinions Gareth's character and actions throughout the story and don't have any bearing on the way Gareth (or any other character for that matter) is played.  Not criticism in any way.




Yeah, yeah - that's what we all say when we're dissing poor Gareth 



> See, for me it's not even that.  The paladin code is incredibly strict and as such most people will not meet its standards.  I think it's very reasonable that arrogant, self-righteous personalities develop out of this kind of stricture and the powers that come along with it.




Agreed. I think the concept of the paladin with "stick up ass" as a class feature is somewhat of a self-fulfilling prophecy. As you say, the nature of the code means it requires a significant amount of (almost blind) faith in oneself and one's principles to adhere to it. And the very knowledge that you adhere to that code and have special dispensation from your god is likely to have at least some influence on even the most level-headed of paladins. A milder version of the "power corrupts" dictum, I guess.

Of course, it should be clear from my use of Cedric and posting on various paladin threads (not to mention creating the original Cedric in the thread in my sig) that I think it's quite possible to move beyond that archetype, but I do think it's quite a reasonable archetype for the majority of paladins.



> What bugs me about Gareth is his paranoia.  He's _detecting thoughts_ and _evil_ almost everywhere he goes.  Now I'm not saying he shouldn't use those abilities, but I think the way in which he uses them belies his confident facade.




Nameless (and to a lesser extent, the rest) would agree with you. There's a fair amount of in-character joking at the table that Gareth's current inability to _detect evil_ is cutting down the PCs' ability to judge whom to trust, since they can normally trust anyone he detects as evil 



> If this paranoia had developed from the experience with Kizmet, I'd be more sympathetic, but the reality is that he's always had this personality quirk, and I think that paranoia is really the root of all his problems.  He's a little greedy (mostly for better arms and equipment, rather than monetary wealth) because he's not confident in his own abilities (though he really should be).  He tows the paladin code and lectures most of the time, but he's also not above saving his own skin.  And he refuses to play the politick game because he desperately--though futilely--wants to believe that his faith and powers put him _above_ all that.  He's incredibly brash but lacks self-confidence.




That last sentence is a very nice way to put it. I think that's one of the many areas where he stands in stark contrast to Cedric. The latter has moved to the degree of self-confidence (as well as knowledge of his own limits) that he doesn't have to be the least bit brash. Or, to put it more succinctly, Gareth often feels the need to tell people what he is. Cedric simply is.



> Imagine if, after mouthing off to the Boromars, Lalia had been the target instead of himself?  Would he still be so arrogant if one morning he'd found her lifeless body in a box?  One of these days his actions are going to hurt someone else rather than himself, and he's not going to be there to save the day.




You trying to give me ideas ?



> I think Gareth has a lot of potential character development.  He could learn a lot from his new weapon.  Six and Nameless are good at playing politics.  And of course there's Cedric too.




Actually, of the entire bunch, I'd say Six right now is the only one who's good at playing politics. Which works perfectly with him suddenly coming out of the Demon Wastes with a +4 boost to Int, Wis and Cha. 



> Edit:  I should clarify further and say that it's not that I don't like Gareth.  On the contrary, I think he's had a lot of interesting things happen to him over the course of the campaign and he's got plenty of personality potential.  After all, who couldn't like the self-conscious hero on some level?  But on the other hand, his stubborn refusal to cooperate and paranoia also make him difficult to relate to.
> 
> It's like the guy who's always first to say "No, you're wrong and here's why."  Many times, Gareth is that guy.  No one likes to be told they're wrong all the time; it's tactless and rude.  Makes him hard to like.




I'd agree with most of the above, but if you're referring to Gareth as the self-conscious hero, I don't really think that applies. He's not very good at stepping back and looking at himself. Which, admittedly, is mostly an intentional character trait. Avi's discussed with me more than once that he's intentionally playing Gareth as somewhat delusional, especially when it comes to himself.



> I gotta admit the guy's interesting.  Brings into question whether or not one can still be Lawful despite debauchery and drunkness and that sort of thing.  It's a very stark contrast, one that I have a hard time reasoning.  But it also makes the nature of paladinhood mystical and mysterious, not something attained but rather bestowed.  Says a lot about the campaign metaphysics and cosmology, which I really like.




I don't know if it helps, but when I'm thinking about Cedric's relationship with the Law aspect of alignment (he's quite undisputedly Good), I tend to heavily emphasize the aspects of consistency. He does surprisingly few things on a whim, though someone catching just one day of his activities may think of it as such. As a minor example, he'll be drinking every day, just about the same amount, and will never ever be found drunk, because he knows precisely what he can handle and he does exactly that amount. And that applies to most aspects of his life. I actually see him as very self-consciously mechanistic, perpetually aware of and questioning himself, and making sure that he consistently does exactly what he must to walk the line between light and dark. The PCs would get a lot more of that if he showed up more, but I really like the NPC, so I'm making sure to give him very little face time because I don't want him stealing the PCs' thunder at all.

Since I'm getting to play out his attainment of paladinhood in another campaign where I run him as a PC, I'll probably post a little writeup of his actual attainment of it on the "World's Worst Paladin" thread when it happens, and mention it here in case you or anyone else is interested.


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

shilsen said:
			
		

> I'd agree with most of the above, but if you're referring to Gareth as the self-conscious hero, I don't really think that applies. He's not very good at stepping back and looking at himself. Which, admittedly, is mostly an intentional character trait. Avi's discussed with me more than once that he's intentionally playing Gareth as somewhat delusional, especially when it comes to himself.




Well, you gotta remember I'm just playing psychiatrist here because I don't have direct insight into the mind of the character (i.e., talking to Avi   ).  Maybe "self-conscious" wasn't the best way to describe the character, but based on his actions throughout the story I get the impression Gareth is nowhere near as confident as he appears.  Maybe _he_ doesn't realize that, but based on what I've read I think those elements are there.


----------



## Furby076

Interesting read.  Gareth doesn't have issues with self-confidence.  He believes he can take things and use his abilities to do good.  Obviously with things like getting kidnapped (twice), having his sword broken (twice), having it found out that Gareth is not a paladin but getting his powers from a demon in his sword - kinda shakes a character up.

Gareth's greed is partially (mostly) me but also that Gareth does realize he needs better equipment.  He is a paladin and has one of the lowest (if not the lowest) ACs in the group.

He also has put himself in harms way a number of times (the first boat trip stepping between nameless and the shauguin, the time with Lalia and feeding her a potion instead of attacking the mob even though it caused him to get dropped, and other times).  Obviously there are times where saving ones own skin is required - a dead or unconscious character does not help the group.


Anyhow, thanks for the synopse - gotta finish up to play the side game we are throwing up for the every other week.  My character a Monk.  Wears overalls, no shoes, no shirt (no underwear), a straw hat, and carries a fishing pole.  His name is cleetus.


----------



## shilsen

Took a while, but here's the concluding bit from our last session. And a little bit at the end about what should be upcoming for next session.

* * * * * *
The skycoach returns to the Gray House first, where Nameless and Six disembark. Gareth, however, says to Lalia, “I will see both of you home and return.” 

While Lalia nods, Tasra smiles at Korm and says, “I saw you pick up a fair bit of food on the way out. Think I could share some?”

“Of course,” Korm replies, beginning to reach for the bag he put the food in, but Tasra reaches out a hand to stop him, her smile turning roguish. “Maybe we could have them for breakfast?”

“Huh?” Then realization strikes, and Korm grins broadly and says, “Of course,” before turning to Nameless and Six and adding, “I’ll be back tomorrow.” Six, also having realized what happened, lifts a hand. “Can I come along and take …”

“No!” says Korm, while Tasra giggles and adds, “A warforged who likes to watch. Great!”

“Just let them go, will you?” says Nameless, turning to head for the house, and Six reluctantly follows. As the skycoach rises into the sky, they cross the skybridge, greet the two warforged on guard, and enter. Inside, they meet Fett, who says that Luna came back a while ago, grinning from ear to ear and saying that she needed to get some sleep. “What’s she been up to?”

Nameless shakes his head. “You tell him. I really need some sleep too.” As he heads up to his room, Six tells Fett, “Come along. You’re going to have to decipher a couple of things for me, but I think I can safely say these guys – and especially Luna – have been undiplomatic.”

* * * * * *
At Lalia and Tasra’s apartment, the latter and Korm wave a goodbye and disappear up the stairs towards her room. Once they are gone, Gareth notices time slowing down, his heart pounding, and his face flushing. “Lalia,” he says, as seriously as he can, feeling just a trifle more nervous than when he was facing two rakshasas inside a volcano, “I have something very important to ask. Please sit down.”

Lalia looks surprised, but she complies and pats the couch beside her. Gareth sits down and then reaches out to take one of her hands, looking deeply into her eyes at the same time. Lalia smiles and reaches forward to kiss him, or tries to, because he quickly says, “Wait – first let me say what I have to tell … ask you.”

“What is…,” she begins, but Gareth silences her with his index finger. “Don’t speak, Lalia – please listen.” Gareth pauses for a moment, a thick lump in his throat, and then says, “I have known you for a number of months and have come to grow very fond of you. You have been helpful to me and my friends, and have shown much kindness towards us. You have come on holy quests with me, saving my life numerous times. You have also helped me explore a great portion of this city and explore portions of my heart that I have never known. No woman, none whatsoever, has ever captured my attention and my heart, but you have. You are beautiful, kind, caring, strong, and simply ... perfect.” Gareth’s hands start to shake a little, but he forces himself to rise, and then drops to a knee.

As he does so, Gareth reaches into a pocket to produce a small box. He opens it to display a beautifully carved, if slightly ostentatious, diamond ring. “Lalia d’Deneith, I love you with all of my heart and ask you to be my wife. Will you marry me, Lalia?”

If Lalia had looked surprised earlier, her expression now is at a whole other level, making her look remarkably like a goldfish. Her mouth opens a couple of times without any words emerging, and then she swallows and manages to say, “Gareth, this is going to sound really clichéd, but I really had no idea. And I don’t know what to say.”

_Say, “Yes,”_ thinks Gareth, but he manages to remain silent.

After an awkward couple of seconds, Lalia continues, “As you know, I’m very, very fond of you, but I really hadn’t considered marriage right now. I mean, I have my work … and, as you said, we have known each other for only five or six months, and … I need to think about this. Would you give me a little time to consider this before answering?” she squeezes Gareth’s hand gently, now looking as concerned, if not more, as surprised. “Please?”

Feeling like he has just swallowed his tongue, Gareth manages to say, “Certainly, whatever time you need.”

The pair of them sit there awkwardly for a few moments, till Gareth begins, “I should leav…,” at the same time as Lalia says, “It’s getting la….” There’s another uncomfortable pause and then they rise together. Lalia accompanies Gareth to the door and, after an awkward hug and kiss, says goodbye. As she returns, she notices something she missed earlier. Gareth has left the ring on the table. Pensively, Lalia picks it up and walks up the stairs.

When Lalia eventually reaches her room and lies down, sleep takes a long time to come. It might be because of the complicated question that Gareth asked her. Or it could be because of the unsubtle sounds of Gatekeeper-on-Sentinel-Marshal action coming from next door.

* * * * * * 
Cedric looks up from the book he was reading at the loud knock on his door. _Who would it be this late?_ “Come on in,” he says.

The door opens to reveal a slightly haggard looking Gareth. Cedric lifts an eyebrow. “Hi. Come on in.”

Gareth walks over to the closest chair and drops heavily into it, before lifting a very slightly shaking hand to his face. Then he lowers it and says, “I could really use a drink.”

Cedric lifts his other eyebrow, but he says nothing. Only after he rejoins Gareth with a bottle and a couple of filled glasses does he ask, “Okay, what did you do now?”

Gareth doesn’t answer, first lifting a glass and taking a large gulp, which immediately causes him to choke and splutter for a few seconds. Cedric waits patiently until he recovers. Gareth sighs and lowers the glass. “See – there’s this girl ….”

* * * * * *
Luckily for Gareth, Cedric isn’t the only distraction around. A couple of days later, the group is back at the Burning Ring for their next set of matches. This time, according to the message from Hoas Junter that had been delivered to the Gray House, Nameless is to engage in a spellcasting battle, while the other four are to take on a large group of enemies.

The method of finding the new location is the same as before, the waiting guide leading them to a particular building, underground, and then up again to the final location. The arena this time is in Firelight, and unlike the previous one, where it was a large rectangular one in the middle of the room, this is roughly a semicircle in one corner. It is also especially deep, a good thirty feet in depth. Hoas explains that it’s especially well-suited to a magical duel.

He also says that Nameless will be up against three mages, since one of the four that Hoas had originally asked declined at the last moment, when he discovered who the opposition was. Evidently he’s a member of the Guild of Starlight and Shadows who knows of Nameless’ abilities.

The other three enter the arena with Nameless, and all of them are given some time to cast preparatory protections. Noting that the others only use magic up to the third valence, Nameless considers using a _globe of invulnerability_, but decides not to do so, in order to make the duel interesting. The others set themselves in a loose semi-circle about thirty feet from him, all hovering off the ground, having used _fly_ spells, and eyeing him nervously.

As Hoas gives the starting signal, spells fly back and forth. Though his ring absorbs a _dispel_, the combination of a _ray of enfeeblement_ and a _lightning bolt_ shake Nameless enough to disrupt his first spell. 

To the amusement of the spectators, one of the other mages tries to take advantage of Nameless’ enfeebled state to fly forward and wrestle him to the ground, but even though he is barely stronger than a significantly ancient gnome at this point, the alienist fights him off and manages to throw up a field of _black tentacles_ to seize his unfortunate enemy.

More spells fly back and forth, with Nameless not using his most powerful ones, in case he kills someone. Instead, he simply _slow_s his remaining pair of enemies (the one in the _tentacles_ spending all his time screaming and being squeezed, despite a helpful _grease_ from an ally) and suggests they surrender before he gets nasty. 

Perhaps made overconfident by Nameless’ choice of spells, the others continue to hurl damaging spells. Finally hurt and irritated enough, Nameless mutters, “All right – you asked for it!” He casts one of his strongest spells, and a swirling mass of air appears beside him, stretching almost twelve feet in height. As it forms, Nameless quickly says in the rumbling tones of Auran, “Don’t kill them. Just knock them out.” The large air elemental rumbles back in the same tongue, and then lashes out, slamming one of the mages backwards. 

The other mage cries out in alarm and rushes at Nameless, gabbling the words of a spell as he comes. His hand glows faintly black as he touches Nameless, who – to the continuing merriment of the cheering audience – promptly freezes in place, a comical look of surprised irritation on his face. 

“_Ghoul touch_?” says Korm, looking down in mingled amusement and surprise himself. “He got taken out by _ghoul touch_? Isn’t there a law against us being affected by spells of the second circle?”

“Darn mages!” Gareth shakes his head. “So, does that mean he’s lost?”

“Not yet,” says Luna. “He has to be unconscious, I think. And the elemental’s still in there.” With a smirk, she adds, “It’s a little puny. Mine are bigger.”

Below, the mage who the elemental just hit tries to fly forward and reach Nameless, but a pair of airy fists intercept him in mid-flight, and he is quickly pounded unconscious to the floor. The other mage squeaks in terror, pulling a dagger from his belt and hammering Nameless over the head with the pommel. Somehow, the helpless alienist remains upright.

The elemental turns swiftly towards this one remaining target. It swings powerfully – and barely misses the mage. He squeals in alarm and again bashes Nameless in the head. This time, the blow finally works and Nameless keels over. The crowd cheers and Hoas begins, “And the winne….” Before he can finish, the elemental swings again, and the unfortunate mage is knocked head over heels, to land unconscious beside Nameless.

The next few seconds are spent with healers quickly reviving the four unconscious combatants and Nameless dismissing the elemental. His three battered enemies are declared the victors, and collect their winnings, before painfully staggering away. Nameless joins his companions and is promptly given a painful ribbing for having lost the bout.

“I think your reputation at the Guild may suffer a bit,” says Six. “Maybe that’ll lead to more challenges from members there.”

Feigning unconcern, Nameless says, “Big deal. It was just an arena match and you know I wasn’t trying my best. If someone else wants to challenge me, that’s fine too.” There is, however, a dangerous flicker in his eyes, indicating that the next person or persons might not see as much indulgence at his hands.

Unfortunately for the group of warriors that face his allies, the other four provide no indulgence whatsoever. There are twelve of them, with Hoas having evidently made sure that there would be a good variety, featuring lightly armored axe-men, plate-wearing former soldiers with sword and shield, archers, and swashbucklers flourishing twin blades. 

With the three-to-one odds, the Angels take no risks. They set themselves in a corner of the arena with Gareth in the center actually beginning with spells (much to the disgust of the Endless Blade, which harangues him for not getting his “shiny ass in there, wussy boy!”), while Luna, Korm and Six form a loose semi-circle around him. As soon as the battle begins, after the first couple of arrows fly in, Gareth throws up a _wind wall_ across the entire front of the Angels, making the archers irrelevant.

This forces the enemy to charge into melee combat en masse, which suits the Angels just fine. There is a moment of acute embarrassment as a flail-wielding warrior manages to snag the rear ankle of Luna as she rears up to hug an unfortunate target, and actually manages to trip her, but other than that, the Angels face little real difficulty disposing of their foes. Six has an especially good time, the reach of his spiked chain letting him take advantage of the multiple enemies and the way they get in each other’s way.

After less than a minute, ten of the twelve are down while all four Angels remain standing, and the remaining two enemies quickly concede defeat. More surprisingly, despite the immense power being brought to bear by the Angels, only one of their enemies is actually dead, the result of a not unexpected _flame strike_ employed by an irritated Luna. 

Just as unsurprisingly, the large melee is extremely popular with the audience, and the Angels’ victory is greeted with a volley of cheers. On the way out from the arena, they are also congratulated by a few of the warriors waiting to take part in subsequent bouts, though there are also a few who stay at a distance and eye them suspiciously. After they emerge onto the audience level, Hoas tells them, “That was really impressive. Of course, it makes it a lot more difficult for me to find someone – or some people – to challenge you. But I’m sure I can find somebody, and the audience really likes you, so I’d like you back next time, which should be in about 4 days. How about it?”

“Certainly,” says Gareth. “I’m enjoying this. We’ll be here. Same method?”

“Yes.” Hoas tells them where they should meet their guide and bids them goodbye. 

“Let’s show them a little more power,” says Nameless. “Hold hands.”

“Won’t we need to use the _portable hole_?” asks Six.

“Nope. I’ve got better. Hang on.” Nameless speaks a quick string of arcane syllables, causing nearby audience-members to turn and look. Their curiosity turns to momentary alarm, as the Angels disappear from view.

A second later, the five of them reappear in the main hall of the Gray House. “There you go,” says Nameless. “Just in case the Boromars, or anyone else, were planning to mess with us on the way back.”

“You jokers are _really_ paranoid!” comments the Endless Blade, from Gareth’s back. 

“No,” says Six sadly, “It’s not paranoia if they’re out to get us, and they are.”

* * * * *
*Handled between sessions:*

Between the Tain Gala (6th), the last vist to the Burning Ring (9th) and the next couple of days afterwards, a number of developments occur:

* Flim Turen: Flim visits on 8 Sul, two days after the Tain Gala, to ask about what happened there. He says that he heard somebody went into the living areas without permission and some guests mentioned the Angels being asked to speak to the security there. He also brings a copy of the Sharn Inquisitive with him (see below).

* Article in Sharn Inquisitive: The Sharn Inquisitive has an article on the 8th on the Tain Gala, entitled “Break-In at Tain Gala!” It says that one or more members of the Guardian Angels broke into the living areas of Tain manor. While details are unclear, the SI believes that this may have something to do with the Angels, who have recently become Brelish citizens and are believed to have had dealings with the King’s Citadel, spying on Hass ir’Tain in order to curry favor with the Citadel. This is just more proof of the lengths to which the Citadel and the Brelish Crown in general are willing to go. While evidently quite powerful, adventurers like the Angels need careful watching. The article mentions Nameless, a “mage whom fellow-members at the Guild of Starlight and Shadow (itself a guild with somewhat shady elements) have described as very powerful and unstable, dabbling with dangerous secrets that nobody should,” as threatening Haftak ir’Clarn, the editor, when he met them at the Gala. 

* Invitation/Meeting with Hass: 2 days after the Tain Gala, the group gets a note from Hass ir’Tain asking them to meet with him in Ambassador Towers in 3 days time.

* Message from Hoas: Hoas sends a message saying that he’s had a hard time trying to get individuals willing to fight them, so he thinks it would be a great sell for them to have a couple of them duel the other two (this is for the four warriors, so not Nameless). This fight will be on 13th, as planned.

* Meeting with Balan: Balan also sends a message asking the group to visit him on the 11th. The message mentions that Silaena has preparations well under way and would like to meet them the same day. 

* Bounty: Fett returns one day and says that the news in the Sharn underworld is that someone has put out a bounty on the Angels. The bounty is for 2500 galifars per individual, and 15000 for all five. He hasn’t yet managed to find out who put out the bounty or if anyone has taken it up.


----------



## Vorput

I've never had a character propose in game... seems like that'd be strange and awkward...


----------



## Furby076

Vorput said:
			
		

> I've never had a character propose in game... seems like that'd be strange and awkward...





It was. Shilsen said "So what do you say to her? Propose".  And I sat there in front of everybody "uh hmmm, yea I am not proposing to a fictional character run by a GUY".  So we just assumed I proposed and then I wrote most of what was said in the above.  Well what Gareth said at least.  That was a bit easier...almost like rehearsing for the day when I propose to some girl.

Gareth, right about now, is probably at some bar with Cedric being sloppy drunk all over a girl and slurring his words "you are beaushiful, and I would shleep with you...hic....but i am in lush...is that it, lush, no losh with this girl, and i am a virginal....hic"


----------



## Arkhandus

Shilsen said:
			
		

> * Bounty: Fett returns one day and says that the news in the Sharn underworld is that someone has put out a bounty on the Angels. The bounty is for 2500 galifars per individual, and 15000 for all five. He hasn’t yet managed to find out who put out the bounty or if anyone has taken it up.




Always good to know your life is worth something.  But 2500 galifars each?  Isn't that insultingly low?


I'd say it's Saidan Boromar's doing.


Finally all caught up again.  Awesome game, folks, and the past two pages have been hilarious.


----------



## Furby076

Arkhandus said:
			
		

> Always good to know your life is worth something.  But 2500 galifars each?  Isn't that insultingly low?
> 
> 
> I'd say it's Saidan Boromar's doing.
> 
> 
> Finally all caught up again.  Awesome game, folks, and the past two pages have been hilarious.





It is, hell my magical equipment far exceeds the 15k bounty.  Weak IMO.  We should pimp slap saidan just for being so cheap....hmm maybe do some more collateral damage.  I won't be happy until Gareth has about 100k bounty on his head alone.


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> I've never had a character propose in game... seems like that'd be strange and awkward...




I've got that from a few people (such as AviLazar here), but the way I see it, since the in-game proposal isn't to the DM but to the NPC being played by the DM, it really shouldn't be an issue. After all, I can haggle, joke, argue, talk philosophy and do a myriad things with the NPCs run by the DM and do so on a regular basis, so why draw the line at a proposal or anything else for that matter?



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> It was. Shilsen said "So what do you say to her? Propose". And I sat there in front of everybody "uh hmmm, yea I am not proposing to a fictional character run by a GUY".




As I wrote above, I don't see why that would be an issue, since there are a large number of other interactions happening, where the fact that I'm not a woman or not a gnome or not an insane dragon doesn't really matter. Or, more precisely, maybe I should say that I understand why the discomfort happens but figure it shouldn't. Different strokes, I guess.

And Avi's selling himself short. I think he did get through two-three sentences worth of proposal before going, "Can we just assume Gareth proposes?" 



			
				Arkhandus said:
			
		

> Always good to know your life is worth something. But 2500 galifars each? Isn't that insultingly low?




That was pretty much the reaction from the PCs. "2500? I'm worth way more than 2500! Assassination is fine, but don't insult me!"

Of course, 15000 galifars is a very hefty sum for even a rich person. It's just that the PCs are incredibly loaded, so it doesn't seem that much to them. 



> I'd say it's Saidan Boromar's doing.




Soon to be revealed.



> Finally all caught up again. Awesome game, folks, and the past two pages have been hilarious.




Thanks. And it's hilarious for you. I have to deal with these lunatics and wonder what they'll do next. It's torture, I tell you. Torture.



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> It is, hell my magical equipment far exceeds the 15k bounty. Weak IMO. We should pimp slap saidan just for being so cheap....hmm maybe do some more collateral damage. I won't be happy until Gareth has about 100k bounty on his head alone.




It's so sad when even the bad guys don't think you're worth as much as you do, isn't it?

Incidentally, have you considered that the bounty might be a little lower simply because they expect the killer(s) to take your stuff and make a very nice amount that way?


----------



## shilsen

I put up the stat blocks for the NPCs the Angels fought during their not-so-happy visit to the Daask drug den in the Rogues Gallery thread here.


----------



## shilsen

Since the PCs hit 12th lvl at the end of last session, I've updated Luna in the Rogues Gallery here.

She currently has 159 hp when fully buffed. And can turn into a dire bear. And picked up Empower Spell.

Alas, my poor NPCs - I knew them well!


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## Sidekick

Hi there Shil, seeing as today is Waitangi Day (the day of celebration for the creation of my great home nation Aotearoa) I’d REALLY appreaciate an update. 

Sorry I’ve been a bit reminisce on my posting – I was back home for a wedding and have been too busy to check the net really.

The Tain gala sounded like it was very fun. Ah Luna – she sounds like simultaneously ever y DMs worst nightmare and most entertaining character.

Bump

FOR JUSTICE AND NEW ZEALAND!!!!

Give me update or I’ll sic Maui on your a55. Cuz stole the sun and also create the south island. You don’t want to mess with him!


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Hi there Shil, seeing as today is Waitangi Day (the day of celebration for the creation of my great home nation Aotearoa) I’d REALLY appreaciate an update.
> 
> Sorry I’ve been a bit reminisce on my posting – I was back home for a wedding and have been too busy to check the net really.
> 
> The Tain gala sounded like it was very fun. Ah Luna – she sounds like simultaneously ever y DMs worst nightmare and most entertaining character.
> 
> Bump
> 
> FOR JUSTICE AND NEW ZEALAND!!!!




I'd have given you an update till I got to the last bit. For New Zealand? NEW ZEALAND? Not only did you guys let Australia off the hook but you just lost to England today and got bounced from the CB series in Australia. Losing a one-day cricket match to England is grounds for very serious punishment, like being forced to have sex with a very fat shifter druid.

Update? I think not!


----------



## Sidekick

shilsen said:
			
		

> I'd have given you an update till I got to the last bit. For New Zealand? NEW ZEALAND? Not only did you guys let Australia off the hook but you just lost to England today and got bounced from the CB series in Australia. Losing a one-day cricket match to England is grounds for very serious punishment, like being forced to have sex with a very fat shifter druid.
> 
> Update? I think not!



Argg tell me about it. They had that game done and dusted. For once the top order did okay (and by that I mean Flemo) while the middle order collapsed. That’s not the way the Black Caps work. The top order are supposed to flounder while the middle order save the day.

And on Waitangi day too??! That’s just rubbing salt in the wound that is. 

Tell you what, I’ll let the All Blacks know to pound the English extra hard if they meet in the World Cup this September. Just get Jerry Collin’s to tackle Wilkinson and that, as they say will be that.

But c’mon Shil – how about an update for me. I’m not at home on my national day of celebration, my team just lost to England, thus losing out on the opportunity to be spanked by the Aussies in the final AND I’m still jet-lagged (woke up at 5am this morning).

I need some good ole fashioned Angel reading to cheer me up!!


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> ... got bounced from the CB series in Australia. Losing a one-day cricket match to England is grounds for very serious punishment,




Ah, one of life's mysteries has been solved. I've always wondered how Shil could know and memorize so many of the rules for D&D. Now the answer emerges. 

He understands Cricket.

Knowing D&D 3.5 is trivial by comparison to that feat.


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Argg tell me about it. They had that game done and dusted. For once the top order did okay (and by that I mean Flemo) while the middle order collapsed. That’s not the way the Black Caps work. The top order are supposed to flounder while the middle order save the day.




Hah! Sadly true. I was looking forward to Oram and McCullum smacking around the Aussies in the finals a bit. Ah well, here's hoping for the World Cup. Naturally, I'm hoping India does well there, but what I'd really like to see is someone other than the Aussies winning. They're a great team and brilliant to watch, but it's boring to see them win all the time, and they do get a little too cocky some of the time.



> But c’mon Shil – how about an update for me. I’m not at home on my national day of celebration, my team just lost to England, thus losing out on the opportunity to be spanked by the Aussies in the final AND I’m still jet-lagged (woke up at 5am this morning).
> 
> I need some good ole fashioned Angel reading to cheer me up!!




Good argument  I should have one up in a couple of days.


----------



## shilsen

As promised...

* * * * * * 
The first reaction of the Angels as a group to the news of the bounty is along the lines of: “2500 galifars each? 15000 in total? That’s just bloody insulting. Look at this! My damn magical belt is worth more than that. Now I feel under-appreciated!”

After absorbing this blow to their collective egos, the group sets out to find out the source of the bounty. Nameless takes the direct route, preparing and casting a series of _contact other plane_s, so that he can work around the ambiguity of the spell through repeated use and various indirect questions. The alienist is beginning to find the sensation that casting this dweomer gives him quite a heady one, and he revels in the slightly addictive pleasure of feeling his already vast intellect expand into realms and degrees of knowledge hidden to most others. 

After numerous castings, Nameless returns to the others, the permanent blue glow of his eyes dampened somewhat due to his recent efforts. “I’m about as certain as is humanly possible,” he begins, before pausing to smirk and correct himself, “I mean, _in_humanly possible that the source is Saidan Boromar.”

“I am so surprised,” says Six dryly, glancing at Gareth.

“Anyhow,” continues Nameless, “We have three options, as I see them, at this point. One – we can go,” he grins at Luna, “What’s technically called ape-, wipe out the Boromar estate, and then flee Sharn. Two – we could whack a couple of Boromar operations and warn them that if they don’t back off we’ll do more damage. This, I suspect, would be largely pointless. We’ve pissed them off enough that hitting them would just exacerbate it. And, finally, we could send a politely worded note telling them that we know what they are up to, and if they don’t back off, we’ll have to get nasty. This may actually work, especially if we send it to Ilyra and phrase it correctly. Opinions?”

Six replies, “I’d say that the bounty looks more like the pay of Halak and the slain twin, as opposed to a serious effort to kill us. 15,000 galifars would buy close to the complete resources of the Daask drug den that cleaned our clocks, and less than the cost of an earth sled. If Saidan were really serious, he would spend an airship’s worth on us. As for what we decide to do, I have places to go, people to see, and things to do here, so please don’t get us kicked out of Sharn for at least a month. That includes Breland too.”

“This is the problem with cities,” grumbles Luna. “We should just always assume someone’s trying to kill us. Because they always are.”

Fett, who is present, offers his opinion too. “I think you’re absolutely right about the second option. Saidan’s clearly pissed, otherwise he wouldn’t have put out a bounty, and if you take out some of their operations, that’ll just piss him off more.”

“As for the first one,” he chuckles and shakes his head, “You folks would probably be able to take the Boromar estate apart, but that would mean you’re done in Sharn forever, and effectively Breland too. The kind of damage you’d be putting out, not to mention attacking the estate of a very wealthy and highly placed member of society, would make you not just outlaws but very high on the list of dangerous ones. If it wasn’t for Nameless’ _teleport_s, I wouldn’t even bet much on you making it out of Sharn. You’d have the Watch, the Blackened Book – which is only two districts away, remember? – and who knows what else on top of you soon enough. And if you need to start taking down Watch members to get out, do you really want to do that?”

“So the third option’s the best for you, in my opinion. But you do also have one more. I haven’t heard anything yet about someone having accepted the contract, and you do have a scary reputation, so that may make it a while before anyone accepts. I’ll know for sure nobody has yet, if I hear that the price has been increased. And if I can find out who’s accepted the contract, you could just go after them or try to set a trap of some kind. If you do that successfully, that’ll make it a lot harder to find someone willing to try and go after your group. So I’d say go with your third option and let me see what else I can dig out.”

He laughs and adds, “Unless you really want to blow stuff up, in which case, would you be nice and put the house in my name for when you’re not in the city?” 

Gareth says, “I am also okay with the third option. We can tell them they need to back off or we will lay on the pressure. However, I do not want this to be a promise of us leaving them alone forever.  No matter what, Boromar and Daask eventually have to go down – period. They are a blight on this city and on this country. Anyone who doesn’t believe that can go check some of lower Dura and see the drugs being peddled to children.”

“Come to think about it,” he continues, “There is nothing much we can say to Saidan that would make him not put a bounty on our heads. Do you think us saying ‘Saidan, back off or we will really put the pressure on you. Oh, and by the way, we still plan on destroying your drug dens’ will actually work? The man is evil, but not stupid, and I’m sure he does realize we are going to come after his assets eventually. So I think the idea about finding out if someone accepts the bounty and hitting them is probably the best thing to do. If we can flaunt our power enough, that would deter many would-be assassins. At the very least, we would only have to deal with the better, or dumber, ones.”

Nameless nods. “Yes, I think that would be a useful thing to do.” Then he smiles slowly, as an idea occurs to him. “Assuming the rest of the group agrees, Fett, could you find a group of would-be assassins, preferably not too bright, who might be willing to take the bounty and convince them that, say, only a pair of us would be at some spot and more vulnerable than usual because of some ritual that required us to expend most of our spells. Perhaps in one of the parks for a druidic ceremony? The rest of us would be ready to _teleport_ in once the attack began.”

Luna shakes her head sadly. “Let me guess – I’ll be the druid in the park, right? I’m fine with it, but this is the problem with cities. We should just always assume someone’s got a contract on us and is trying to kill us … because they are!”

Nameless grins, not at Luna but at another thought, and continues with his plan. “Also, perhaps, once we’ve defeated the assassins, we could publicly ‘thank’ Saidan Boromar for warning us about the attack.”

Fett starts laughing. “Oh my gods - that's just beautiful! Especially the bit about publicly thanking Saidan. Give me a few days and I’ll see what I can pull off. I’ll also keep an 
eye out for any opportunities for you flexing your muscles in public. Balan’s probably a good bet to that end too.”

Fett stops laughing and says, “I just hope Flayer doesn’t get interested in this. He’s probably the primary freelance assassin in Sharn. We had a run-in with him which almost got me and a couple of the others killed, but it ended when he discovered that we weren’t the people he wanted. Later, when we were digging around for info about him, he sent us a polite note to stop doing it, and so we did.” He shakes his head at the memory. “He’s a priest of the Mockery. Has a habit of removing people’s faces and wearing them. Hit poor Amaris in the face with someone else’s face, actually. He actually had a pretty 
good, if warped, sense of humor and was quite amusing, and we found him funny, though we figured we’d eventually have to take him down. Never got around to it, of course. Anyway, you guys are out of his league. I think.”

* * * * *
When Flim Turen visits a couple of days after the Tain Gala, he brings a copy of the Sharn Inquisitive with him, which features an article entitled “Break-In at Tain Gala!” about Luna’s little sojourn at the Gala. 

“So,” says Flim, “Want to tell me what happened? We’ll be running a story about the Gala, since we always do, so you might as well use the opportunity for the real story. I mean, this is all wrong, right?”

“Actually,” says Nameless, “It was pretty accurate until it got to the whole spying garbage.” He grins. “And after that too. I didn’t threaten Haftak, but I shared some … information with him.”

“Wait – so one of you really did break into the living areas of the manor?”

“I didn’t break in!” interjects Luna. “I walked in. They throw damn boring parties, so I needed something to do!”

Flim laughs. “I should have known. So – tell me what happened.”

The Angels spend some time explaining the details of the night, while the gnome makes a few notes – and laughs a lot. “I’ll try to make this sound like just an error of some kind, but it’ll be tough.”

“No, no,” says Nameless quickly. “Don’t bother. Print the truth and exactly that.”

Flim looks a little surprised, “Well, I wasn’t planning to lie. Just have certain implications, but if you don’t want….”

“No, I don’t. It’s better if people realize exactly how nuts and dangerous we all are, especially in social settings. Then they might avoid inviting us to social situations we can’t turn down.”

“Not a bad idea,” agrees Korm. “The party had a few … ahem, benefits, but they came later. If we don’t get invited to any others, it might be better.” Luna shrugs to indicate her lack of interest in the matter and Six says nothing, with only Gareth looking unhappy with the idea.

“Okay,” says Flim, “But I don’t think you’ve got much to worry about regarding social invitations. Getting invited to the Tain Gala automatically opens a _lot_ of social doors. And getting _dis_-invited, as you were, slams them firmly shut. I’m betting there are half a dozen people around town who’re canceling plans to invite you over.”

Gareth looks even unhappier and says, “You know, some contacts with people in the upper levels of society could be quite beneficial to us.”

Before the others can reply, Flim continues, “And there are a few monetary benefits too, especially to the Tains liking you. You didn’t get any gifts at the Gala, did you?”

“No.”

“I thought not. Invitees to the Gala, that is, people like you and not the regular attendees, always get very lavish gifts before leaving.”

“What sort of gifts?” says Luna, with a frown.

“Jewelry, clothing – that kind of stuff. Of the very costly kind.”

Gareth smiles and shakes his head. “Now see what you did, Luna!” Korm grins and adds, “Yeah. We could have got lots of shiny things for you to roll around on.”

Luna scowls and begins, “Hey – I didn’t know that they were…,” but Flim jumps to his feet before she can finish. “I can see you have things to discuss,” he says with a smile and wink. “I’ll be off.”

Two days later, a copy of the Korranberg Chronicle is delivered to the Gray House. The society section has an article about this month’s Tain Gala. It mentions Luna entering the living quarters of the Tain mansion, and while being consistently truthful, does do a fair job of emphasizing the social ineptness of the Guardian Angels, especially Luna.

* * *
A surprise visitor to the Gray House is Lalia, whom Gareth has been avoiding since the proposal. Part of the reason is advice from Cedric who, besides letting Gareth drown his sorrows in drink and cry on his shoulder, has also suggested to the younger ‘paladin’ that he shouldn’t pressure Lalia. When Gareth visited Cedric immediately after making the proposal, Cedric told him, “The next time you see her, just say, ‘Regarding what I asked you, I just want you to know that there’s no pressure or hurry for an answer. Whenever it, and whatever, is convenient to you would be fine with me. Take your time.” 

When Gareth sees Lalia, he also recalls Cedric’s typically idiosyncratic follow-up to the advice, which involved smacking Gareth on the head and saying, “Also, you’re an idiot! What the hell did you go and do that for? With your lifestyle, do you really think it’s fair to her to get married? What with being a paladin and being out there fighting and making enemies, you’re just asking her to sign up to be a widow! You dumb, selfish bastard!”

While he’s still trying to work out exactly what to say, Lalia asks if they can speak privately. Gareth takes her to his room, ignoring the curious looks from his companions, whom he has not informed about the proposal. Of those in the house, only the Endless Blade knows, but Gareth has sworn it into secrecy, threatening to stick it in an extradimensional space forever if it breathes a word to anyone. 

Once in his room, Lalia looks around as if searching for something to talk about, and then says, “I was expecting to see you by now.”

“We’ve been busy,” says Gareth blandly, not really sure what else to say. Though he does not even notice it, he is also slightly enjoying Lalia’s discomfort.

“Anyway,” says Lalia, taking a deep breath, “I have an answer for your … offer. And please,” she adds quickly, “Let me finish.” She pauses again, and then says in a rush, “I’m flattered. Very flattered. But right now, I just cannot see myself getting married. I could talk about my work and other things, all of which would be true, but, in short, not now. I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, but I think you’d be more disappointed in the long run if I said ‘yes’ when I’m not sure. I hope this won’t affect our relationship, since I’m really fond of you, and I’d like us to keep seeing each other.” She stops abruptly, and then waits for an answer.

To his surprise, Gareth actually finds himself a little relieved. “All right. And yes, I would like that too.” Lalia emits a relieved sigh and produces the ring from a pocket. Before she can say anything, Gareth quickly reaches out to close a hand over hers and says, “Keep it, in case you ever change your mind.” Lalia hesitates and then says, “All right,” and slips the ring back into her pocket.

Then she asks, “What are you doing day after tomorrow?”

“We’re going to the Burning Ring. We’ve been taking part in combats there.”

Surprise replaces awkwardness on Lalia’s face. “The Burning Ring? Why?”

“We’re involved in a sting operation for the City Watch.” Gareth proceeds to relate the details of the Angels’ work for Silaena Cazal. Lalia listens with interest.

Once he is done, however, there is a certain degree of awkwardness and Lalia quickly takes her leave, promising to see Gareth at some point when they’re both free. 

* * *
Besides entertaining visitors, the Angels also make a few trips of their own. The first, to meet Hass ir’Tain, parliamentarian and eldest child of Lady Celyria, takes them to one of the many Brelish diplomatic buildings servicing the embassies and consulates of Ambassador Towers. Almost all of them, that is. Four of the Angels agree that one of them needs to stay home. The fifth, Luna, disagrees, but grudgingly does so after being reminded over and over of the possible repercussions of her actions at the Gala, just to avoid hearing their “whining any more!”

When they meet Hass, he seems quite unconcerned about the group’s actions at the Gala. Nevertheless, Gareth puts his considerable diplomatic skills* to work, apologizing for their companion’s unconscionable behavior, expressing deep regret at the disruption caused to Lady Celyria’s party, and only requesting an opportunity to apologize to the Lady personally. Hass seems quite taken by Gareth’s speech and says that he will put in a good word for them to his mother.

Hass also says that the reason he wished to talk to the Angels was because he has been hearing a great deal about their abilities, and is curious about the fact that they’ve recently become Brelish citizens. The Angels’ honest answer that they did it to buy a house seems to disappoint him a little. Hass also asks about the fact that they have worked for the Citadel, which they confirm. 

“That’s good to know,” he says. “People with your skills can be very beneficial to Breland.”

“We are always willing to work for a good cause,” says Gareth. 

“Tell me,” Hass continues, “What do you think of the monarchy?” There’s a momentary silence as the Blades try to follow the sudden shift. Korm is the first to reply. “Honestly, I really don’t care about or follow politics.” Nameless and Six agree. Gareth says, “From all that I have heard, he is a good man and a fine ruler, so I have no problem with him.”

Hass laughs. “I’m seeing a trend with you here.”

“Let me ask you a question then,” says Gareth. “What do you think of Saidan Boromar?”

Now Hass looks surprised. “Saidan? I know him more by reputation than really in person, but we’ve interacted at my mother’s Gala. Why do you ask?”

Gareth goes on to explain that Saidan Boromar has put a bounty on the group’s head. Hass seems more curious than surprised, and spends some time asking about the bounty, whether the Angels are sure about it, why it was placed, and other such questions. Gareth and the others answer the questions for the most part.

Once that subject is dealt with, Hass says that he’s hoping that he might be able to find a way to use the Angels’ talents for the good of Breland, and if he can think of something, he would like to contact them. The Angels say they will be happy to consider any offers, with Gareth adding, “Any good and worthy cause,” drawing another laugh from Hass. “I’ll remember that,” he says.

After leaving Hass, the group picks up Luna and heads over to Warden Towers to meet Balan and Silaena.


* Got a 43 on his Diplomacy check


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> “This is the problem with cities,” grumbles Luna. “We should just always assume someone’s trying to kill us. Because they always are.”
> 
> Luna shakes her head sadly. “Let me guess – I’ll be the druid in the park, right? I’m fine with it, but this is the problem with cities. We should just always assume someone’s got a contract on us and is trying to kill us … because they are!”




Deja vu? Typo...well i thought so, then I realized, I can see Luna being the broken record about this and just repeating herself 



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> “We’ve been busy,” says Gareth blandly, not really sure what else to say but also slightly enjoying Lalia’s discomfort.



Hmm, I think you got Gareths emotions wrong.  More along the lines of him being uncomfortable and he would not enjoy Lalia being discomforted....Shil you are one sick person...Ok lesson: When you love someone you dont enjoy them being in a bad position - even if you cant help it. 



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> “Keep it. Wear it for me, until you ever are sure




Gareth didn't say that. He said keep it, hold onto it if you change your mind.  If you heard me say that (which I am sure i didn't) i apologize.  To have her wear it (in Gareth's and my opinion) would be wrong if she was not engaged to Gareth.  I think now I understand why you portrayed Lalia as very uncomfortable after Gareth asked her to hold onto the ring.  Misunderstanding...I was thinking as in keeping it in her closet until she changes her mind.


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:
			
		

> Deja vu? Typo...well i thought so, then I realized, I can see Luna being the broken record about this and just repeating herself



 That was actually a typo, but I'm just going to leave it up there, because you're right 



> Hmm, I think you got Gareths emotions wrong.  More along the lines of him being uncomfortable and he would not enjoy Lalia being discomforted....




Yeah, yeah - so Gareth _says_. But we know he''s self-delusional anyway 



> Shil you are one sick person...




Well ... duh 



> Gareth didn't say that. He said keep it, hold onto it if you change your mind.  If you heard me say that (which I am sure i didn't) i apologize.  To have her wear it (in Gareth's and my opinion) would be wrong if she was not engaged to Gareth.  I think now I understand why you portrayed Lalia as very uncomfortable after Gareth asked her to hold onto the ring.  Misunderstanding...I was thinking as in keeping it in her closet until she changes her mind.




Thanks for the clarification. I'll change it accordingly.


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> Yeah, yeah - so Gareth _says_. But we know he''s self-delusional anyway




As Gareth runs around "LALIA IS MY WIFE AND IF I CAN'T HAVE HER NOBODY WILL".  Then he kills her, and hires the taxidermist...who would be sickened at the thought probably - up until the point Gareth puts a sword to his throat....but then Gareth can't have someone running around telling people he killed someone in cold blood...Gareth kills the taxidermist and hires a nercromantic priest/mage to animate Lalia...Gareth will, on a regular basis, cast gentle repose so she does not decay.  Now nobody in sharn can tell the difference.. mwahahahhaha ahahhahaah hahahahah   



-Avi

P.S. If Luna can be crazy, so can I!


----------



## Vorput

Does Ebberon have any Gods of madness?  Has the party considered collectivly diefying themselves into one? 

PS:  The irony is that Nameless is supposed to be the eccentric, doesn't care about consequences, detached from the world, going insane far-realmsy one... And yet often- he ties with Six for most methodical and rational...  ::chuckles::


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> Does Ebberon have any Gods of madness?  Has the party considered collectivly diefying themselves into one?
> 
> PS:  The irony is that Nameless is supposed to be the eccentric, doesn't care about consequences, detached from the world, going insane far-realmsy one... And yet often- he ties with Six for most methodical and rational...  ::chuckles::




Well, I'm a lot better at doing cold and methodical than insane and wacky. The fact that Shil's NPCs WILL rack you up really good if you don't bring your "A-Game" and make only optimal tactical choices, tends to reinforce those tendancies in me. I'd like it to come across as an almost "Hannibal Lector"-ish, cool and calculating exterior masking a deep and fundamental insanity, but it usually doesn't come out that way.


----------



## Furby076

We are all just crazy players RPing our characters as more normal versions of ourselves.  Actually, in gameplay, Gareth is not insane or luny.  He is a " typical" paladin so pretty stubborn in his views, and with the exception of the thing with Kizmet and the whole "yes i am a paladin just dont have my abilities running right now" he is sane.  Then again, if you remember the movie "A Few Good Men"....at the end Tom Cruise said something to the effect "Harold, you don't need strips on your shoulders to have honor". 

-Avi


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Well, I'm a lot better at doing cold and methodical than insane and wacky.




Agreed.



> The fact that Shil's NPCs WILL rack you up really good if you don't bring your "A-Game" and make only optimal tactical choices, tends to reinforce those tendancies in me.




Actually, with most NPCs I've used, I haven't used the perfect tactical choices, because they aren't geniuses and because of personalities involved. In most of the fights that the PCs had a hard time with but won, doing the most optimal tactical choices would have been a TPK. For example:

* The fight against the River Snake clan in the Shadow Marches - They didn't know how good the PCs are, so they launched their attack when they could reach the closest PCs, rather than being in a position to reach all the PCs. If they had, Nameless would have gone down in a round or two and without his Solid Fog slowing them down temporarily and eating up some spellcasting from the bard leader, the PCs would have been toast.

* The fight vs. Little Red Riding Hood in the ruined tower in the Demon Wastes - She popped out of the ground after temporarily retreating, well before she'd completely healed up, simply because she had never been beaten before and was fairly cocky. Since the PCs couldn't get out, if she'd just stayed underground till she totally healed and the Faerie Fire on her was gone, it would have been a TPK.

The closest I came to running NPCs with totally optimal tactics was in the final fight vs. the rakshasas, because one of them was actually a real genius, and even then I took into account some mitigating factors (the focus on freeing his master, partly underestimating the PCs since he didn't know they'd been infused by the Flame and was also counting on the demon in Gareth's sword to do more than appear and be sucked into the lava, etc).

Believe me, I've _never_ used my 'A-game' 



> I'd like it to come across as an almost "Hannibal Lector"-ish, cool and calculating exterior masking a deep and fundamental insanity, but it usually doesn't come out that way.




You just need to emphasize the role of tentacles and a nice Chianti in Nameless' life.



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> Then again, if you remember the movie "A Few Good Men"....at the end Tom Cruise said something to the effect "Harold, you don't need strips on your shoulders to have honor".




True. You don't need to be a _real_ paladin to have a stick up ... 

BTW, I'm in the middle of the joys of grading papers, but I'll try to have an update by the weekend. 

We're playing on Saturday and I've promised the players a bit of a workout for their PCs. No A-game yet, but I'll strive for something in the B+ range. So there will be pain. Lots of pain.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> Actually, with most NPCs I've used, I haven't used the perfect tactical choices, because they aren't geniuses and because of personalities involved. In most of the fights that the PCs had a hard time with but won, doing the most optimal tactical choices would have been a TPK. For example:...
> 
> Believe me, I've _never_ used my 'A-game'




I didn't say you had or that you always played the NPCs with optimal tactical choices. I was talking about the Players, try reading it again. WE have to bring our "A-Game" and make optimal tactical choices or "WE'll" get racked up.

I've thought about introducing some "Monk" (the Tony Shalhoub character, not the class) like aspects to Nameless. Such as him stopping to compusively count the tiles on the floor in the middle of the battle or something like that, but the battle in the Daask Drug den pops into my head any time I think about doing something like that.


----------



## Seekerofskill

Rackhir said:
			
		

> I didn't say you had or that you always played the NPCs with optimal tactical choices. I was talking about the Players, try reading it again. WE have to bring our "A-Game" and make optimal tactical choices or "WE'll" get racked up.
> 
> I've thought about introducing some "Monk" (the Tony Shalhoub character, not the class) like aspects to Nameless. Such as him stopping to compusively count the tiles on the floor in the middle of the battle or something like that, but the battle in the Daask Drug den pops into my head any time I think about doing something like that.




Upon reflection I'll refine a prievious statement. Shil designs traps with combat. The  PC's can't go on auto pilot. Generally each encounter requires some basic group action to disarm the situtation. Each one take one and attack with your best options is usually springs the trap and is the one the PC's favor, so there are a lot of virtual TPKs. They are virtual because of various house rules.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> I didn't say you had or that you always played the NPCs with optimal tactical choices. I was talking about the Players, try reading it again. WE have to bring our "A-Game" and make optimal tactical choices or "WE'll" get racked up.




Okay. I thought you meant the "and only make optimal tactical choices" bit was modifying the first part of the sentence. That'll teach me to read and post in the middle of grading papers where I don't know when a clause is modifying anything at all.

Freshman composition - always an epic-level encounter! 



> I've thought about introducing some "Monk" (the Tony Shalhoub character, not the class) like aspects to Nameless. Such as him stopping to compusively count the tiles on the floor in the middle of the battle or something like that, but the battle in the Daask Drug den pops into my head any time I think about doing something like that.




So _that's_ what Six was doing during that fight! Now I'm going to imagine him talking like Shalhoub from now on.

Maybe you should come up with some really strange and effective spell combos and have Nameless walking around a fight talking to himself and throwing them up, while other PCs are yelling, "What the hell are you doing?" 

Until they realize that the apparently random Wall of Stone you cast was intended to provide a surface for the summoned pseudonatural polar bear to appear on, 15 ft above the head of the BBEG, who thought he was using your wall for cover, having been forced to back away behind it due to the Cloudkill you cast, which apparently was so badly aimed that it missed him. 

All so that he can be belly-flopped by a polar bear.



			
				SeekerofSkill said:
			
		

> Upon reflection I'll refine a prievious statement. Shil designs traps with combat. The PC's can't go on auto pilot.




I've never quite bought your analogy about combat and traps, mainly because traps usually have only one way to beat them, whereas I never plan combat that way, but I'll definitely agree about the auto pilot bit. Adaptability often matters a lot in combat in our game.



> Generally each encounter requires some basic group action to disarm the situtation. Each one take one and attack with your best options is usually springs the trap and is the one the PC's favor, so there are a lot of virtual TPKs. They are virtual because of various house rules.




And this, I think, you're bang on about. While the PCs do some coordinating, mainly to help each other when healing is required, they usually fight as five individuals, even if very powerful ones. When they've had a tough fight against significantly weaker opposition, it's almost always been opposition who fought as a team and focused their power on a couple of PCs at a time. 

If we took exactly the same PCs and ran them as a very focused team, they'd be drastically more dangerous. The fight vs. the 12 NPCs (even if significantly weaker) in the Burning Ring arena was a good example of a time when the PCs focused on teamwork and absolutely wiped the floor with the opposition. Not that I'm complaining about you guys (SeekerofSkill is Six's player, BTW, for anyone who's curious) not doing that much teamwork. If you did, I'd have to work a lot harder than I already do.


----------



## Seekerofskill

shilsen said:
			
		

> I've never quite bought your analogy about combat and traps, mainly because traps usually have only one way to beat them, ...




Au contraire. You can disable them; trip them with a dummy; smash them; avoid them; hide them to use against someone else; dig them out a move it (say a dire badger); mark them; mark them and sell the location; mark them and use the marks as phony traos etc. About the only thing you _can't_ do is walk into them and expect it to turn out well.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> Maybe you should come up with some really strange and effective spell combos and have Nameless walking around a fight talking to himself and throwing them up, while other PCs are yelling, "What the hell are you doing?"
> 
> Until they realize that the apparently random Wall of Stone you cast was intended to provide a surface for the summoned pseudonatural polar bear to appear on, 15 ft above the head of the BBEG, who thought he was using your wall for cover, having been forced to back away behind it due to the Cloudkill you cast, which apparently was so badly aimed that it missed him.
> 
> All so that he can be belly-flopped by a polar bear.




I'd love to, unfortunately I find myself running up against the old writer's dilemma, "How do you write (play) someone who's much smarter than you are."

I am not even vaguely close to Nameless's 25 Int. But I'll try and put some work into it.


----------



## shilsen

Seekerofskill said:
			
		

> Au contraire. You can disable them; trip them with a dummy; smash them; avoid them; hide them to use against someone else; dig them out a move it (say a dire badger); mark them; mark them and sell the location; mark them and use the marks as phony traos etc. About the only thing you _can't_ do is walk into them and expect it to turn out well.




All right - I stand corrected. But I think it's mean of you to call Luna a dummy 



			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> I'd love to, unfortunately I find myself running up against the old writer's dilemma, "How do you write (play) someone who's much smarter than I you are."
> 
> I am not even vaguely close to Nameless's 25 Int. But I'll try and put some work into it.




Don't forget that you also have the option of just asking me during the game, "Since Nameless has a 25 Int, does he think of something that would help in this situation?" Of course, you might not want to use that in combat, but if you ever do, I'm fine with it.


----------



## Vorput

Yeah, that's what I did with my DM when playing a high intelligence mage... ironically also an alienist... I miss that guy... and his pseudonatural hawk...

Granted, he'd only rarely have useful information for me... he'd often just stare at me quizzically and then go "I don't have a 24 intelligence either."

Thankfully acid substituted fireballs are the universal intelligent quotient or something.

Also shilsen- I've noticed the same thing you described in... pretty much every group I've ever played in- characters functioning as their own autonomous units in battle (for the most part, there are rare exceptions- usually when battle is discussed ahead of time) unless something comes up which forces them to acknowledge their party mates (like the need for healing).

It probably has something to do with the fact that most combats in D&D are over in a few rounds, only a couple of seconds (yet somehow they can take hours of time out of game!)- and in that time, people want to do whatever their character is best at- usually something related to combat.  In a campaign with fewer combats, this trait tends to become ever more noticeable (I've noticed). 

Just stray thoughts.

Vorp

Edit: Oh yeah- how's this for weird... I'm taking a Tolkien and philosophy course- and in the powerpoint discussing Gandalf, there was a picture of him from the movie.  I saw it, and suddenly wondered if Shilsen's story hour had been updated...  Crazy icon picture recognition.


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

I'm beginning to think a critical part of an enjoyable story hour is a well-played alienist.

Mostin (from Sepulchrave's SH) is a character so well written (and I imagine well played).  He's a nice mix of no-nonsense attitude and humor.  One minute he's commanding a number of devils to do his bidding, the next he's cowering from a gaggle of geese.  Reminds me of Rackhir's point about _fundamental_ insanity, rather than babbling incoherently and drooling in a cup all the time.  That's not a very interesting character, IMO.

Nameless is quite different from Mostin.  He's... eerie, is the best way I imagine him.


----------



## Rackhir

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> I'm beginning to think a critical part of an enjoyable story hour is a well-played alienist.
> 
> Mostin (from Sepulchrave's SH) is a character so well written (and I imagine well played).  He's a nice mix of no-nonsense attitude and humor.  One minute he's commanding a number of devils to do his bidding, the next he's cowering from a gaggle of geese.  Reminds me of Rackhir's point about _fundamental_ insanity, rather than babbling incoherently and drooling in a cup all the time.  That's not a very interesting character, IMO.
> 
> Nameless is quite different from Mostin.  He's... eerie, is the best way I imagine him.




Thank you very much for your kind words. So in gratitude, when Nameless opens the gates to the Far Realm and let's the Elder Gods back into Eberron, he will make sure that You Will Be Eaten First!


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

Elder Gods?  Elder Gods.... hmmmm, can't seem to-- ah, now I remember.  The Elder Gods!  They were delicious.


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Yeah, that's what I did with my DM when playing a high intelligence mage... ironically also an alienist... I miss that guy... and his pseudonatural hawk...
> 
> Granted, he'd only rarely have useful information for me... he'd often just stare at me quizzically and then go "I don't have a 24 intelligence either."




See - there's the problem. You just needed to find a DM with a 24+ Int. 

Like me. 

Even better if he's as humble and self-effacing as I am.



> Thankfully acid substituted fireballs are the universal intelligent quotient or something.




I guess that's a variation on Luna's approach. When all you have are _flame strikes_s, everything in the world seems like its flammable.



> Also shilsen- I've noticed the same thing you described in... pretty much every group I've ever played in- characters functioning as their own autonomous units in battle (for the most part, there are rare exceptions- usually when battle is discussed ahead of time) unless something comes up which forces them to acknowledge their party mates (like the need for healing).
> 
> It probably has something to do with the fact that most combats in D&D are over in a few rounds, only a couple of seconds (yet somehow they can take hours of time out of game!)- and in that time, people want to do whatever their character is best at- usually something related to combat.  In a campaign with fewer combats, this trait tends to become ever more noticeable (I've noticed).
> 
> Just stray thoughts.




Stray or not, I think you're absolutely right. 

Personally, the smarter my PC the more I make him think of ways of taking advantage of the entire group's abilities, rather than just his own. I'll give you an example from the smartest PC I'm playing currently - a 22 Int Wiz12 (diviner) in an online game. In their most recent fight, he was stuck in a _web_ spell, while his allies were fighting an equally powerful wizard, bolstered by a heavily buffed fighter-type and a couple of powerful summoned creatures. While in the _web_, my PC was safe from the melee-types reaching him and he and the spellcaster could have slung spells at each other till someone went down. Instead, what I had him do was cast an _antimagic field_, allowing him to walk within range of the spellcaster (suppressing a couple of the summoned creatures on the way and freeing up allies). It put my PC (who's an old man with lousy physical stats) in a horribly defenseless position, but with the enemy wizard's defenses down, my allies were able to take him out before he had a chance to do anything. And with him down, his allies were toasted before they could kill my PC. My guy got to do nothing fancy or flamboyant and mostly just stood around, but because he was willing to shut himself down and not focus on what he could do, the PCs got a win without any of them in serious danger. 



> Edit: Oh yeah- how's this for weird... I'm taking a Tolkien and philosophy course- and in the powerpoint discussing Gandalf, there was a picture of him from the movie.  I saw it, and suddenly wondered if Shilsen's story hour had been updated...  Crazy icon picture recognition.






Well, here's the update:

* * * * *

Balan greets the Angels and informs them that Silaena has the details on the Burning Ring raid confirmed and will tell them when they meet. Before that, however, he has a small favor to ask. He begins by asking if they know the Mud Caves, the end of the beach area at the bottom of the cliffs on which Sharn’s towers stand, extending eastward from the dock areas.

“Yes. We’ve seen it when coming into and leaving Sharn by ship,” says Gareth. “Looked like people live there. Right?”

“Yes. A lot of the poorest indigents in Sharn live there. There are shallow caves leading into the cliffs, and a shantytown built up around it ages ago, and it has been there ever since.”

“Okay. So what’s the problem?” asks Korm.

“I’m hearing that people have been disappearing from there for a couple of weeks. The Watch would never go there, and I can’t exactly ask for Blackened Book resources unless we know it’s something which concerns us, which I doubt it does. So when I heard about it I thought of you folks. Maybe when you’re done with this Burning Ring issue you could stroll down there and look around?”

“Sure,” says Korm. “Be glad to.” The others nod.

“Thanks,” says Balan. “I appreciate it. As you already know, there are a few places in Sharn where the people don’t get that much help from the Watch, so if people like you help out, it makes a big difference. Though, in all likelihood, I’m probably wasting your abilities here. Still, as I said, I appreciate you checking this out. Anyway, what else have you been up to besides causing mayhem at the Burning Ring?” He glances at Nameless’ glowing blue eyes. “And getting a makeover.”

“Well, we might be having a little situation coming up soon. Saidan Boromar’s put a bounty out on us, thanks to Mr. Diplomatic here,” says Nameless, jerking his head at Gareth. 

“Saidan? You sure? How did you find out?”

“Absolutely. And let’s just say I spoke to some higher powers. Anyhow, we might have to do a little damage to disabuse people of the notion that attacking us is a smart idea.”

“Ogre’s eyes! You’re not planning to try and take out Saidan himself, are you? Please say you’re not, because otherwise, there’s going to…”

Six chuckles, in a metallic manner, and says, “No. Nameless suggested it, but I’m not ready to be fleeing Sharn yet.”

“Good,” says Balan. He smiles and adds, “I’m not quite ready to get killed trying to arrest you nuts either. So – what was the damage you were referring to?”

“I thought we could get a couple of not so smart assassins to attack us somewhere in public and wipe the floor with them. Hopefully that would dissuade a few people.”

“Hah! Okay – I’m glad you told me about it, so I’ll know to be prepared when I hear about _fireball_s and _flame strike_s going off somewhere. Just promise me to try and not blow up any towers, okay? And not hurt any innocent bystanders?”

“Certainly. We never cause a fuss if we can avoid it.”

“Yeah, right. And Boranel’s dating Aurala.”

The Angels spend a little more time chatting with Balan and then leave, heading for the part of the garrison that holds the actual Watch offices. There, they meet with Silaena Cazal and discuss her plans and their suggestions for the raid. Silaena says that she doesn’t want to wait any longer and has everything ready to occur during their next visit. The Angels explain that they are scheduled to duel each other, and she says that if they inform her as soon as they know the location, she should be there in anywhere from fifteen minutes to half an hour. Presumably that will be after their duel is over, which means they’ll be healed and ready to help as needed. 

“Remember,” Silaena reminds them, “There are two things I’m especially interested in. First, you need to catch Hoas – and alive. Secondly, try to minimize any damage to civilians. I doubt anyone will fight, especially if you can take Hoas down, but people panic and do stupid things.” She pauses, and then adds, “So how are you planning to inform me? Magic?”

“Of course,” says Nameless. “Once we’re in there, I’ll find a secluded spot from which to use a _sending_ to you and let you know where we are.”

“It’ll be a little difficult to find a quiet place there,” points out Six. “Maybe you could use the privy,” suggests Gareth, “But I wouldn’t want to be caught casting spells in there.”

Luna, who’s been sulking slightly since the others made her stay home while they met Hass, grunts from where she sits. When the others look at her, she reaches into her backpack and produces a pair of foot long ebony rods, topped with a bird skull and artificial black feathers. “Remember these?”

“Of course!” says Korm, slapping his forehead. “I’m still carrying around the petrified goblin arm backscratcher.” He looks at Nameless and chuckles. “They took your reference goblin when you got captured, didn’t they?”

Silaena, who has been trying to avoid looking very openly confused during this exchange, finally asks, “What does this have to do with contacting me?”

Nameless explains to her that one of the rods can be used to communicate with the person who has the other, and shows Silaena how they are utilized. “I’ll use one to inform you when we have the location. And do _not_ reply to me, since that’ll make it obvious to anyone near us what’s going on.”

After giving her one, the Angels head back to the Gray House to make preparations and plans.

* * * * * * 
Two days later, the Angels are following another halfling guide through the streets of Torchfire, heading towards what is evidently the current location for the Burning Ring, going by the combination of small groups, some of them significantly well-armed and armored, heading for it. Once they are certain, Nameless and Six fall back behind the others.

The guide stops immediately and eyes them suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

“We just need to discuss something. Give us a second. Or you can go ahead and we’ll join you.” Nameless and Six walk a little distance away, staying well in sight, and begin to talk. Unseen by the guide Nameless, who has his back to him, activates the raven skull rod tucked into his belt, and while he seems to be speaking to Six, is actually relaying the location to Silaena.

Less than a minute later, they rejoin the others and continue toward the building, which turns out to a partly filled warehouse. The crates have been set up to form walls and corridors, and the people entering wend their way through them to reach an open area, where two warforged and a pair of humans stand near an open trapdoor and steps leading down.

Below is another of the large chambers that the Burning Ring occurs in, this one with the arena – about 25 feet wide and slightly longer – in the center of the chamber, twenty feet below the audience level. A duel is just ending when the Angels enter, and Hoas soon joins them to discuss their fight.

“You already got my note about the plan for two of you to fight the other two, right? Not you, Nameless, so you other four have to decide who’s taking on who. I’d just like to have you two,” Hoas indicates Korm and Luna, “In separate groups. You throw around the most magic and do that weird bubble healing thingy, so that would even things out, I think.”

“Yeah, right!” says Luna, with a cheeky grin at the others. “You know I’ll murder you guys, right?”

Hoas laughs as the others shake their heads. “So – have you decided already?”

“No. Give us a moment.” Gareth says, “So how do we decide?”

“Let’s roll for it,” says Six, reaching into a pocket. He produces a small bag and pours out the contents into his palm. A number of strangely shaped little objects clatter into his metal hand. 

“What’s this?” asks Nameless, picking one up. It is an icosahedron, with a number on each face. “Some kind of die?”

“Yeah. It’s used for this game a lot of children play, called ‘Mazes and Monsters.’ Really interesting and very creative.”

“So what are you doing with it?” 

“I bought the rules a couple weeks ago.” Six points at Gareth’s back. “The Endless Blade runs a solo campaign for me at night when all of you are sleeping.”

“Yeah,” speaks up the sword, which finally seems to have developed the ability to stay quiet for long periods. “I’m a rat bastard DM in the making!”

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” asks Luna. “What’s a ‘solo campaign’ and a ‘ra…”

She doesn’t get to finish, as Hoas coughs meaningfully from behind them. “I’ll explain later,” says Six. He takes the die from Nameless and says, “1-10, Luna gets me. 11-20, Korm gets me, okay?” As the others nod, Six rolls. “All right. Korm, it is.”

“Excellent,” says Hoas. “You’re on in two more. By the way, you obviously can’t be betting on yourselves, since it would be too easy to … well, throw the fight, so I’m going to pay you guys a thousand galifars each. That’s more than fair, I think.”

“Agreed.”

“All right then – best of luck.” As Hoas walks away, the Blades walk over toward the ring and discuss among themselves how best to get through the fight without any risk of damaging each other too much.

* * * * *
Fifteen minutes later, having cast a plethora of preparatory spells, the two pairs face off against each other. Once they enter, Luna predictably transforms into a bear. This time, her form is significantly larger, at least a quarter longer and much thicker, huge muscles roiling under the clearly thicker hide, covered in dark blackish-brown hair. Spiked bony ridges decorate her brow and sickle-sized claws dig into the ground of the arena as she stretches and growls.

While the crowd promptly goes wild, Korm looks up at the beast. “Damn! I didn’t know you could turn into a dire bear yet.” Luna simply responds with a toothy, ursine grin. 

And then, from the level above, Hoas says, “Ready? Fight!”

Six is the quickest to respond, leaping to the side and hurling one of the two nets he had picked up from the armory of available weapons. It wraps around Gareth, entangling him. While he irritatedly chops at the net, shredding it quickly, the druids charge into each other.

For the time being, the Angels are not pulling any punches, and the audience, already cheering Six’s move, erupts into bloodthirsty howls as Korm sets his feet and chops away at an onrushing Luna, sending blood spraying across the arena. Ignoring the pain, Luna rears up and then crashes down on him. While her teeth scrape off his magical protections, her claws bite into his shoulder and she pulls him into her chest.

And that’s when Korm realizes what he forgot to do. _! No_ freedom of movement!_ I could really use one!_ With no magical way to escape, there’s no way even the powerful orc can escape the eight thousand pounds of bear wrapped around him, and Luna shakes him back and forth and batters him.

Gareth, having managed to chop his way free of a second net that Six had hurled, takes the opportunity to ignore the warforged and smack Korm over the head while Luna holds him. Though Six attempts to distract Gareth and Luna, there is little he can do besides land a couple of painful blows which they shrug off. 

Realizing that Korm is on the verge of unconsciousness, Luna suddenly releases him and brings a shield-sized paw down on his head, knocking the Gatekeeper senseless to the ground. The audience cheers again, as both she and Gareth turn to Six. He temporarily manages to evade her grasp, but after a few seconds, she has him too. The fight seems to be heading to an obvious conclusion.

Above them, Nameless has been watching the crowd and especially Hoas as much as the fight, and he notices half a dozen people around the arena quietly unslinging bows amidst the commotion. Before he can speak, the alienist feels the prick of two weapons against his back, and a hoarse voice whispers, “Don’t make a move, mage!” Nameless turns his head slightly. His glowing blue eyes gaze into the warily watching face of a slender man. And then Nameless smiles broadly, winks and begins to cast an incredibly quick spell.

To the surprised pair of mercenaries, the mage has just made a reflexive, and fatal, error. But for Nameless, it is a perfectly well-reasoned and tactical choice, coupled with a certain degree of mad certainty in his personal prowess and invulnerability. Just as Nameless expected, even as he begins to cast, two daggers sink deep into his back. The alienist focuses, despite the pain, and after a moment of inhuman concentration* – accompanied by a mad gibbering deep within his skull – completes his spell. With a cheerful wave, he rises into the air, rising above the surprised crowd, while ignoring the blood streaming down his back and legs.

“Heads up, people!” Nameless yells to his allies in the arena below. “These morons are trying to kill us!” Gazing across the room, the alienist locks eyes with Hoas, who is standing next to a half-open door guarded by two warforged, and begins to cast another spell.

Unknown to Nameless, Hoas has planned ahead for exactly this eventuality, and from behind him, a waiting mage casts a spell and sends three _magic missile_s streaking at his back. Unfortunately for the latter, however, the cheers and sounds of the roaring crowd prevented him from hearing the spell Nameless just cast. The _missile_s flash out of existence as they hit the _shield_ protecting Nameless.

Nameless smirks triumphantly and completes his spell. Hoas, just about to leap through the door, goes stock-still. His eyes widen for a moment as he tries to resist, and then the alienist punches through his mental defenses and captures his will, utterly dominating it. _Tell your men to stand down – now! _ commands Nameless.

Meanwhile, down in the arena, Gareth, Six and Luna have looked up at Nameless’ warning, only to see a hail of arrows. Unfortunately for the archers, all of them have layered on multiple protections in preparation for the duel, so most of the arrows simply bounce off harmlessly, only Gareth taking a shallow cut from a lucky shot.

“I told you so!” says Six. “This was too much of a coincidence!” As Luna releases him, the warforged reaches into his back and retrieves a specially prepared smokestick and tindertwig. He strikes them together, and billowing smoke envelops him. Beside him, Luna turns and quickly casts a _rejuvenation cocoon_ to protect Korm. Gareth casts another protective spell. As they are doing so, three of the portcullises in the sides of the arena open, and half a dozen mercenaries rush through two of them, weapons swinging.

The rain of arrows ends swiftly as Hoas, obeying Nameless’ instructions, yells to his people to stand down. Even as he is doing so, there is a sound of rushing feet and yelling above, and multiple voices calling out, “This is the City Watch! Nobody move!” Immediately, shouts of “Raid! It’s a raid!” break out in the crowd and pandemonium reigns.

With a sigh, Nameless orders Hoas, _Come over here_. Even as he pronounces the mental command, the desperate hired mage casts a _scorching ray_ at him. Or rather, tries to. Before he can complete the spell, Nameless speaks a word and gestures, blasting his partly-formed dweomer into nothingness**. With the sort of expression a tiger might give a cat that attacked it, the alienist drops a _solid fog_ on him and half the room around him. Then, raising his voice, Nameless shouts, “Everybody shut up and don’t move – and nobody’ll get hurt!” Flying over the arena, he looks down. Luna, Gareth and Six stand next to the smoke cloud Six created, surrounded by bleeding and unconscious men. _Well, almost nobody_.

With Hoas under control and most of his men either unconscious or unsure what’s going on, wrapping up matters takes little effort. Once Korm emerges to learn what he missed, the four Angels make their way up to rejoin Nameless. They enter the chamber no mercenaries emerged from and discover the reason, namely the warforged gladiator Steel and the ogress Korrla, who have four groaning men lying around them. “We thought it was a little unfair of them to jump you like that,” explains Korrla, “So we took a hand. Not as if you needed any help, it seems.”

“Nevertheless, thank you,” says Gareth. “I hope you’re not too disappointed about us closing this place down. If we can ever help you with work…”

“No problem. We’ve got jobs. And this’ll open up some other time, I’m sure. Anyway, good fight.”

Once they reach the upper level, they check with Nameless about exactly what happened and help the Watch raiding party and Silaena to deal with whatever needs to be. That includes arresting the enemy spellcaster, who has made an abortive attempt to throw away his pouch of material components and pretend to be another patron. Amusing as that is, what makes the Angels completely crack up is when the disgruntled man grumbles that he only accepted the job because he’d spoken to one of the three mages who had ‘defeated’ Nameless in their duel and been told that the alienist wasn’t anywhere near as effective as he is made out to be.

Once the main details have been taken care of, Silaena asks the Angels to return to Warden Towers with her and Hoas. There, Nameless has Hoas explain everything he can about the Burning Ring and anything else that Silaena is interested in. With the mental control still in effect, there is nothing that the erstwhile ringmaster can do but sit there and recite in painstaking detail whatever his interrogators want.

Six also checks whether the attack on the Angels was a result of the bounty on their heads. Hoas explains that he had planned to kill them anyway, since he had quickly figured out that they were there for some reason besides what they said, and the bounty had just been an added bonus. 

After the interrogation is accomplished, Silaena thanks the Angels profusely for their help. “Without you, we would have been trying to achieve this for months, and even if we had, it would never have been with such success. We didn’t lose a single person and none of the audience, guards or gladiators were killed, except the ones fighting you.” She looks at Nameless. “I don’t know what that spell you used on Hoas was, but it was brilliant. How long before he comes out of it?”

Nameless smirks. “Twelve days.”

“Twelve?! Bloody hell! How many people in Sharn can cast that?”

“Maybe two or three.”

Silaena shakes her head. “I’m glad you’re on our side. Anyhow, if I can help you in some way in return, let me know.”

“Well,” says Six, “We were supposed to be making a thousand galifars each off that fight.”

Silaena smiles and says, “That can be arranged. In fact, why don’t you stop by tomorrow morning and we’ll take care of it?”

* * * * *

Early the next morning, the Angels return to meet Silaena. She hands over five thousand galifars and then produces what is clearly a _handy haversack_. Opening it, she begins to produce multiple items, such as a pair of gloves, a cloak, a couple of rings, and a finely made chain shirt. “These are a few things that we recovered and I thought you might find useful.” She pushes across a sheet of paper. “I had them identified, and this is what they are.”

The Angels go over the paper and find that while the items are all significantly more minor than the ones they carry, all of them can be used. They quickly divide them amongst themselves and, after thanking Silaena and telling her to contact them if they can ever help, leave Warden Towers.

“So,” asks Luna, “What’s the plan of the day?”

“We should pop down to these Mud Caves and check out the disappearances Balan mentioned.”

“All right. I could use some exercise.” Luna looks sideways at Korm and grins. “Korm’s not as much fun in a clinch as I expected.”

Gareth laughs. “Maybe we could _polymorph_ him into a gnome. That way you’d be able to feed your gnome fetish and have a powerful Gatekeeper to mate with, all in one.”

While the Endless Blade laughs uproariously from Gareth’s back, Korm mimics shoving him off the skybridge they are on. “Thank you, Gareth,” he says bitterly, “Thank you very much.”


* Natural 20 on the concentration check for a DC 39 check
** Used a swashbuckling card to counterspell as a free action. That poor mage really had a bad day!


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:
			
		

> “Yeah. It’s used for this game a lot of children play, called ‘Mazes and Monsters.’ Really interesting and very creative.”
> 
> “So what are you doing with it?”
> 
> “I bought the rules a couple weeks ago.” Six points at Gareth’s back. “The Eternal Blade runs a solo campaign for me at night when all of you are sleeping.”
> 
> “Yeah,” speaks up the sword, which finally seems to have developed the ability to stay quiet for long periods. “I’m a rat bastard DM in the making!”




Hehehehehe...  Started laughing out loud at work... people looked at me strangely.  Classic...


----------



## Solarious

It's worth taking a few minutes to reply to this update. It's one of the best yet! 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Gareth laughs. “Maybe we could polymorph him into a gnome. That way you’d be able to feed your gnome fetish and have a powerful Gatekeeper to mate with, all in one.”



Looks like Gareth is finally growing a sense of humor.  Fits in with the current trend of teasing Korm, and all things considered, completely appropiate. Even the Endless Blade agrees!

Speaking of which...


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> While the Eternal Blade laughs uproariously from Gareth’s back...



Endless Blade, ENDLESS!



See you crazy dudes next update.


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Hehehehehe... Started laughing out loud at work... people looked at me strangely. Classic...






			
				Solarious said:
			
		

> It's worth taking a few minutes to reply to this update. It's one of the best yet!




Glad you guys liked it. I have to admit, the bit about the Endless Blade running D&D (well, M&M) games for Six was a bit of creative interpolation while writing, but I think it fits.



> Looks like Gareth is finally growing a sense of humor.  Fits in with the current trend of teasing Korm, and all things considered, completely appropiate. Even the Endless Blade agrees!




That was actually a table comment, and actually OOC, but it made sense as an IC comment. Poor Korm has been suffering recently ever since Luna said she wanted to find a high level Gatekeeper, bring him back and have her way with him. Actually, I should say the entire group is suffering. As Korm put it, IC and OOC, "I need to Flame Strike my eyeballs to get that visual out of my head!"



> Speaking of which...
> 
> Endless Blade, ENDLESS!




You enjoyed that way too much  Anyhow, thanks for the catch.



> See you crazy dudes next update.




Will do. May take a while, since I don't have enough from the end of last session for a complete update, so it'll only come in after we play tomorrow. And I'm grading all next week, so it may take a while. We'll see.

We're expecting some action as the PCs head into the Mud Caves (into a very suspicious 20 ft square tunnel that seems eaten/dissolved into the rock) in search of kidnapped people, so there should be something to look forward to.

And to that end, I'll let you guys decide - how badly should I hurt them?


----------



## Solarious

Well, they've had a few good runs, as it's been a little while since they escaped the Daask fiasco, nothing terribly lethal, and somehow managed to kick utter ass in the Burning Ring.

You _do_ know what this calls for.


----------



## Furby076

Solarious said:
			
		

> Well, they've had a few good runs, as it's been a little while since they escaped the Daask fiasco, nothing terribly lethal, and somehow managed to kick utter ass in the Burning Ring.
> 
> You _do_ know what this calls for.





Tea and crumpets.


----------



## Solarious

AviLazar said:
			
		

> Tea and crumpets.



 Only if they're both nailed down and on fire.


----------



## Rackhir

Solarious said:
			
		

> Well, they've had a few good runs, as it's been a little while since they escaped the Daask fiasco, nothing terribly lethal, and somehow managed to kick utter ass in the Burning Ring.
> 
> You _do_ know what this calls for.




I hate you...


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> I hate you...



 Yes, yes. And you are fully justified in doing so. It's all his fault.

*runs like hell before Rackhir can blame him too*


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> Yes, yes. And you are fully justified in doing so. It's all his fault.
> 
> *runs like hell before Rackhir can blame him too*





Tonight was an interesting night. An interesting night. You will love the update, you all will


----------



## Solarious

Rackhir said:
			
		

> I hate you...



 Aww, you talk so dirty! I love you too, honey.  


			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> Tonight was an interesting night. An interesting night. You will love the update, you all will



 Well, you know what they say about ancient curses and interesting lives...


----------



## Furby076

Solarious said:
			
		

> \Well, you know what they say about ancient curses and interesting lives...





No i don't, but I know what happened tonight.  It was a definite turn of events.  Someone in the group even  thought I should break out the duct tape.  They didn't say it, but I know they thought it.  Ohhh, shame Shil can't post his update for X amount of days.

But man, yea interesting interesting night.


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:
			
		

> No i don't,




He's referring to an (apocryphal) old Chinese proverb curse, which says, "May you live in interesting times." As the Angels can vouch, interesting times can be a curse.



> but I know what happened tonight.  It was a definite turn of events.  Someone in the group even  thought I should break out the duct tape.  They didn't say it, but I know they thought it.




I need to put that in the House Rules document - "No duct taping the DM or threatening with (or actually inflicting) bodily harm."



> Ohhh, shame Shil can't post his update for X amount of days.
> 
> But man, yea interesting interesting night.




Actually, since I'll be having a pretty busy week, I'll try to get as much as I can done today, so I might be able to throw something up soon.


----------



## Sidekick

I'm waiting in eager anticipation!

Hope the grading doesn't go too badly... marking undergrad essays/assignments is most academics idea of hell on earth


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> I'm waiting in eager anticipation!




I was going to make you wait, but the fact that New Zealand kicked Aussie ass twice swung the vote. So here's a short update and a little teaser.



> Hope the grading doesn't go too badly... marking undergrad essays/assignments is most academics idea of hell on earth




Luckily it doesn't bother me that much, and this batch is English Lit, which is better. The freshman comp papers, which is the other course I'm teaching this semester, are much rougher.

And here you go:

* * * * *
The remaining Angels stand silent and stock-still in the middle of what was so recently a raging battlefield. Nobody spares a glance for the mutilated corpse of their recent enemy, all eyes remaining focused on the form lying beside it. There is no blood on this figure, besides that which dripped from its killer, but there is no doubt about its state. What beholders, mindflayers, dragons and rakshasas could not do has finally occurred. Death has finally come for one of the Guardian Angels.

* * *
A little over an hour ago, the Angels stand in front of a very unusual tunnel leading into the rock-face of the cliffs which support the towers of Sharn. 

The tunnel begins inside one of the shallow caves that give the Mud Caves area its name. Outside the cave, and the lean-to attached to it, stretches the mixture of rock and sand that makes up the south-eastern end of the beaches of Sharn. More lean-tos and makeshift hovels litter the beach, creating a shantytown that caters to the most wretched of Sharn’s poor. At this moment, few of these individuals are present anywhere near the cave the Angels are in, one of those closest to the eastern end of the beach. Instead, many of them are clustered stand behind the westernmost of the crude barricades that now block off half the beach. 

“Okay,” says Gareth, “This is definitely artificial,” pointing at the smooth twenty-foot square tunnel, with its completely smooth and vertical walls and equally horizontal floor and ceiling, which extends beyond their sight. “Right?”

“In a manner of speaking,” says Nameless, running his hands over the odd striations that mark parts of the rock. “Something ate – or dissolved – its way into the cliff, I think. Probably some kind of ooze or aberration.”

“A damn large one, whatever it was!” comments Korm.

Six, who has been kneeling beside a small pool of slime-flecked water, points at streaks on the stone near it. “Tracks. Definitely feet, some around human size and some bigger, and also something which is either a snakelike creature, or them dragging something behind them, like ...”

“Tentacles,” says Nameless.

“Yes, tentacles.”

“They did say,” adds Korm, jerking a thumb in the direction of the beach outside, “That even a couple of ogres and trolls got grabbed by whatever it is that’s in there. But then why should they be walking in?”

“We know there’s something intelligent in there,” points out Nameless, “So perhaps it captured or coerced them in some way.”

“Intelligent?” asks Gareth. “We don’t know that for sure.”

“Look at the facts. Something kills the family living in the hovel and burrows into the back of the cave. And then emerges at rare intervals over the course of a month, grabbing people from the outside, with nobody left alive and report what it was. Including people who were specifically on guard and waiting for it to emerge. It has to be intelligent.”

“Maybe it just cleans up well after itself?”

Six straightens up. “Only one way to find out, since Korm’s spell didn’t say much.”

The Gatekeeper protests, “Hey – I did tell you a _commune with nature_ says nothing about artificial areas, and this one’s definitely artificial. At least it let us know that it stretches in a long way.”

The Angels spend a couple of minutes discussing and casting protective spells. By the time they are done, each of them is heavily protected against acid and able to see in the dark. Six, now with the floating eye orbiting his head, takes the _portable hole_, opens it and jumps in. With a little effort, he tosses out a large stone, carved in the rough shape of a sphere, weighing around 200 lbs.

“What the hell is that?” asks Gareth, as Six climbs out. 

“I’m scouting ahead,” says Six.

“I know that, but what’s the rock for? And where did you get it?”

“I’ve had a few of these made. I got the idea from those dice I bought.” Six leans over and rolls the sphere around till he can place his hands into two slots on the sides. The others can now see that the sphere has been carved with a couple of handholds, and also has a hole running through one side of it. Six takes a few steps forward to the edge of the tunnel, leans forward, and rolls the ball into it. “It’ll find traps and let me know if anything’s in there.”

As the dull, but loud thudding sound slowly recedes, Gareth looks around, pausing for a dirty look at Luna, now in her usual form, sitting up and shaking with ursine laughter at Six’s new scouting method. “Come on!” he says. “That’s too loud. It’ll let anything in there know we’re coming!”

Korm, who has been chuckling too, says, “Have you ever heard yourself walk? Unless we leave you here, everything knows we’re coming anyway.”

Six walks in after his stone device and the others give him a little lead time and then follow, ignoring Gareth’s complaints. As Six advances, he finds more places along the way where tracks have been left due to the combination of the odd puddle or a patch of slime. There are one or two areas where he thinks that one or more creatures were dragged.

If the shape of the tunnel were not enough to indicate its abnormal nature, the turns that it makes underline it. Every turn is at a sheer 90 degree angle, as if whatever created it simply decided to move precisely left or right at a given point, without bothering to gradually change direction. The first gradual change Six encounters, after about two minutes of alternately walking and bowling his stone ball down the corridor, is a place where the tunnel begins to angle downwards. Its dimensions remain the same, but there is a clear slope. The slope becomes steeper as the tunnel turns another corner, ending ten feet ahead, at the edge of a dark, murky pool of water which spans its width. It extends beyond the sixty foot range of Six’s vision with the floating eye.

Six waits till the others join him and indicates what he found. The others notice what his limited sense of smell missed, a faintly acrid tang in the air. “Maybe it’s acidic,” he says, producing and assembling a collapsible ten-foot pole. Tying a rag to the end, he reaches out and dips it. When he pulls it back and checks, he finds that it is slightly acidic, but not enough to do any damage.

“I want to check the depth,” says Six. He takes back the _portable hole_ and this time produces a stone carved in the shape of a three-sided pyramid. This one also has a hole in it, and Six ties a rope through it. “Oh man!” says Gareth, as he stands and watches, “What is it with you and these rocks?”

“They’re convenient,” says Six, walking over to the water. He lowers the stone in and begins to pay out the rope.

And then a giant, yellowish amoeboid mass surges out of the water and onto Six. 

With a startled cry, the warforged drops the rope and tumbles backwards, barely dodging out of the way of a huge pseudopod slamming down where he just stood. The creature, as wide as the tunnel itself though only a foot in thickness, lurches out of the pool after him.

“Ochre jelly!” shouts Nameless, as he backs up. “Nobody use a sharp weapon on it, since it’ll just split up and be unhurt. Nothing electric either.” He quickly casts a spell, and water splashes up as a large crocodile appears behind the jelly, flailing tentacles bearing it aloft. Nameless shouts a tongue-twisting command in daelkyr, and instead of biting, the crocodile slams its tail into the mass ahead of it.

On the other side, on the lip of the stone, Korm swears in irritation. Lowering his sword, he unleashes a series of blows, pulping the creature’s flesh with his fist. Six joins him, his metal fists slamming into the creature’s amoeboid form. Gareth rushes forward, the Endless Blade reforming into a large two-handed metal club as he advances, but before he can reach the creature a lashing pseudopod slams around his waist and lifts him into the air. Gareth’s armor creaks as it constricts and he cries out in pain. 

Luna, about to cast a spell in which fire features prominently, growls in irritation as Gareth is picked up and waved around. For a moment she considers that he could probably take the damage. _But then there’ll be the whining!_ Reluctantly, she begins to _summon_ some allies.

Despite its limited ability to feel pain, the pounding by both Six and Korm, their fists driven by strength enough to crack stone, draws the gigantic ochre jelly’s attention. Part of its shapeless body forms another pseudopod, which hammers down on Korm. But as it seeks to seize him, the orc slips out as if he were covered in some lubricating jelly himself, thanks to a precast _freedom of movement_. Even more usefully for the group, the forming of the new pseudopod draws away material from the one wrapped around Gareth, and with a mighty effort he breaks free. He falls with a thud, luckily landing on the stone of the tunnel rather than in the pool, and painfully rolls away.

With him out of the way, Nameless instantly casts one of his deadliest spells, a green beam flashing forth to strike the ochre jelly. Empowered by the power of his ring, the beam _disintegrate_s the entire central portion of the creature. Mindless or not, the jelly flagellates under the agony of the magical assault, its exterior portions still lashing out mindlessly without realizing that they are dying. Luna promptly reminds it, dropping the spell she was casting to bring down her favorite, and now empowered, column of flame on it. The jelly literally explodes under the impact, charred portions being strewn around the tunnel, while others sink back into the water. Silence falls, until Luna rears up and does what the others define as her “happy ‘I just got to _flame strike_ something’ bear dance.”

While the others take care of healing Gareth, who is grousing about why big critters love to squeeze him, Six again checks and ascertains that the depth of the water is about ten feet, and Nameless collects a few samples of the jelly and orders the crocodile to check for the far side. It returns almost instantly, to communicate through gestures that the water ends only a few feet beyond their vision. Nameless flies over, while Six simply descends to the bottom and walks across. Korm disrobes, drawing opprobrious comments from the others and swims, as does Luna, carrying Gareth on her back.

On the other side, the group proceeds, Six again ‘scouting’ ahead with the help of his stone ball. After a couple of turns, he eventually comes to a point where he can hear the faint sound of movement ahead, accompanied by a soft squelching sound, like someone stepping on piles of wet cloth. Advancing cautiously, he soon sees that the tunnel opens into a larger chamber, the source of the sounds. 

Moving back to inform the others, Six returns to his original position, accompanied by Luna and Korm, while Gareth remains further behind, guarding Nameless. The warforged ties a rope to the stone ball and then rolls it forward powerfully. It trundles forward, its movement now being restricted by the rope, causing it to move from one side of the tunnel to the other and bounce off the stone walls, and eventually disappears into the chamber. Only seconds later, there is a loud splashing sound as it falls into some liquid. Six, about to start pulling back on rope, drops it as the squelching sound grows in volume. Even as he snaps out his chain, four figures emerge from the chamber.  

They were evidently humanoid at one point, presumably among those who had been carried away from the Mud Caves area, but no longer. All four are naked, which reveals that large patches of their bodies have been replaced with translucent ooze, which melds seamlessly with the flesh that remains. Large red veins extend throughout the jelly-like portions, and the preternatural visual acuity of the two druids and Six lets them see them clearly pulsing with whatever liquid flows through them. The modification to their forms is especially true of the creatures’ heads, which are at least half-ooze, as well as the upper portion of their chests, their lower abdomens and upper thighs. Their genitals have been removed, replaced with large patches of ooze. 

The last change to their bodies is that none of them have forearms. Instead, thick green tentacles extend from just below their elbows. As they advance, the tentacles coil and uncoil, revealing a row of suckers on the inner surface, which gleam with a glutinous gray slime. As they walk forward, a soft squelching accompanies their footsteps.


----------



## Solarious

shilsen said:
			
		

> Death has finally come for one of the Guardian Angels.



Ah, the promise of *death* in the morning. Smells like... agony. 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Silence falls, until Luna rears up and does what the others define as her “happy ‘I just got to flame strike something’ bear dance.”



You know, upon reading this, I was reminded of WoW's dancing bears. Here's a partial clip of it to commemorate the moment.







Yeah, bears dancing in a fashion vuagely reminicent to broadway showgirls hilarious, I know. 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> As they walk forward, a soft squelching accompanies their footsteps.



Someone has been enjoying their Lovecraft a little too much, methinks.


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

I had a feeling, a premonition if you will, that one of the Guardian Angels was going to die.  Maybe my DMing skills aren't truly gone, just buried after several years out of the driver's seat.

I'd really hate to see any of them go.  Here's to hoping for a lengthy resurrection quest.  Or at the very least, a botched reincarnation!


----------



## Furby076

Solarious said:
			
		

> You know, upon reading this, I was reminded of WoW's dancing bears. Here's a partial clip of it to commemorate the moment.




I love WoW's dancing bears.  I have to show it to the group sometime (hopefully there will be a druid near me).


----------



## Furby076

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> I had a feeling, a premonition if you will, that one of the Guardian Angels was going to die.  Maybe my DMing skills aren't truly gone, just buried after several years out of the driver's seat.
> 
> I'd really hate to see any of them go.  Here's to hoping for a lengthy resurrection quest.  Or at the very least, a botched reincarnation!





You know, if not for the action point/card system, we would have had many more deaths.  In fact, in almost every game where combat was involved a PC was dropped below -9.  Shil is vastly ruthless.  The action point/card system is not to protect the PCs from Shil, it is to protect Shil's game from being deteriorated to "The Chronicles of Sharn: Who Will Die This Week"


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

AviLazar said:
			
		

> You know, if not for the action point/card system, we would have had many more deaths.  In fact, in almost every game where combat was involved a PC was dropped below -9.  Shil is vastly ruthless.  The action point/card system is not to protect the PCs from Shil, it is to protect Shil's game from being deteriorated to "The Chronicles of Sharn: Who Will Die This Week"




Oh, I know.  I've been paying attention.   

But no matter how you truss it up, it's not a death unless the character dies.  You could drop to -437 hit points but if House Rule 22 Section A Paragraph 4 prevents that death, then it ain't no death. 

Of course, taken to its logical extension, one could argue that _death_ isn't really death either, what with _raise dead_ and _resurrection_ and all.  But I don't stand by that opinion myself.


----------



## Vorput

> The remaining Angels stand silent and stock-still in the middle of what was so recently a raging battlefield. Nobody spares a glance for the mutilated corpse of their recent enemy, all eyes remaining focused on the form lying beside it. There is no blood on this figure, besides that which dripped from its killer, but there is no doubt about its state. What beholders, mindflayers, dragons and rakshasas could not do has finally occurred. Death has finally come for one of the Guardian Angels.




NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  ::sniffs::  Why?!?!

Anyway- was that a normal ochre jelly? Or was it advanced? or...? 

Also- opprobrious?  Now you're just showing off shilsen 

Curious to see what the heck these half ooze things are...

Vorp


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Ah, the promise of *death* in the morning. Smells like... agony.




Yes, it does. Pretty, ain't it?



> You know, upon reading this, I was reminded of WoW's dancing bears. Here's a partial clip of it to commemorate the moment.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Yeah, bears dancing in a fashion vuagely reminicent to broadway showgirls hilarious, I know.




Okay, now that's just wrong!



> Someone has been enjoying their Lovecraft a little too much, methinks.




That's an oxymoron. You can never enjoy your Lovecraft too much. And since I introduced the ooze + tentacle angle, a little squelching is to be expected. I'm reliably informed that I like gross things in my campaign way too much. When I described the final guy they fought, Luna's player started gagging and told me to stop before she projectile vomited. Those are the moments you feel your job is well done 



			
				GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> I had a feeling, a premonition if you will, that one of the Guardian Angels was going to die. Maybe my DMing skills aren't truly gone, just buried after several years out of the driver's seat.
> 
> I'd really hate to see any of them go. Here's to hoping for a lengthy resurrection quest. Or at the very least, a botched reincarnation!




No, none of them gets away that easy. A reincarnation is what they're most likely to try, I believe. As far as botched, well - when does anything ever go wrong for the Angels?



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> You know, if not for the action point/card system, we would have had many more deaths. In fact, in almost every game where combat was involved a PC was dropped below -9. Shil is vastly ruthless. The action point/card system is not to protect the PCs from Shil, it is to protect Shil's game from being deteriorated to "The Chronicles of Sharn: Who Will Die This Week"




Well, you know I aim to please. And I'm not ruthless. Just sensitive about the plight of NPCs. In most campaigns, including ones I run PCs in, they exist only to have the crap beaten out of them and have all their stuff stolen. They should have just a little respect. So I let them earn some in this game. Sure, he may just be a CR 4 demon-worshipping human savage in the middle of the Demon Wastes with a stick and a rock with some dung smeared on it, but when he's hitting a 10th lvl PC over the head and doing 20+ pts of damage per hit, he gets some respect.

I, you see, am a humanitarian. Human, in this case, meaning everyone who's an NPC.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> I, you see, am a humanitarian.




Yep, you certainly are. And if the police ever get a look in your refrigerator, you'll be doing 25 to life for it.


----------



## shilsen

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Oh, I know.  I've been paying attention.
> 
> But no matter how you truss it up, it's not a death unless the character dies.  You could drop to -437 hit points but if House Rule 22 Section A Paragraph 4 prevents that death, then it ain't no death.
> 
> Of course, taken to its logical extension, one could argue that _death_ isn't really death either, what with _raise dead_ and _resurrection_ and all.  But I don't stand by that opinion myself.




As I've already posted way too much on the General Discussion and Rules boards, the more time I spend with this campaign the less I think permanent death in the game is a necessary thing. As far as I'm concerned, the only person permanent death really affects is the player. Since the PC then ceases to be affected by going out of play, it's no longer affected by anything, and the player is the one who gets to stop playing a character that he presumably enjoys running. If a particular player thinks a particular PC death would be cheapened in some way by returning from it, or simply wants to run another PC, then I think permanent death is fine, but otherwise, I really don't see any advantage to it. The main way most people tend to use it, or so it seems to me, is to underline that there are repercussions for PC failure. As long as you have other repercussions, as I strive to make sure I have a lot of in this campaign, death really isn't needed any more.

And, though I often joke about it, permanent death is often easier on the PCs. Having to live with the repercussions of one's actions, and especially one's failures - now that's hard.



			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ::sniffs:: Why?!?!




Because making the PCs suffer in this world isn't enough, and one inevitably needs to extend it into the next, so that they can be sure that even death is not an escape?



> Anyway- was that a normal ochre jelly? Or was it advanced? or...?




Advanced to 18 HD, which made it huge in size. 300 hit pts. 

That still only makes it a CR 9 critter (though I'd consider it more like CR 10) by the advancement rules, which seems about right since it has some serious weaknesses also. The players cracked up when I told them that it had an initiative of -3 (-5 bonus and I rolled a 2) and that it's AC was -7 (-5 Dex -2 size).



> Also- opprobrious? Now you're just showing off shilsen




Alas, I'm sometimes inebriated by the exuberance of my own verbosity.



> Curious to see what the heck these half ooze things are...




Remember, I'm big on taking existing mechanics and using them with completely new flavor, so you don't have to look very far afield. I especially do that when dealing with creatures that are exceedingly rare or significantly metamorphosed in some manner, like these guys.


----------



## Solarious

shilsen said:
			
		

> Okay, now that's just wrong!



If I ever have the time to waste, I will endevor to create a video. It will have 3 dancing bears, side by side. It will be inside an open-air inn, on a bar. The inn itself will be filled with purple elves with extra-long ears. And all three bears will be dancing in synchrony.

I will then use cheesy broadway music for the background. I will name this video: "Luna's Happy 'I just got to Flame Strike something' Bear Dance". I shall then post this video. On YouTube and Google Video. I shall then put a link to both in my signature.

And I will dedicate this video. To shilsen. To Luna. To Gareth, Korm, Nameless, and Mithril Six of Six. And especially to the faces behind those names. You will *-ALL-* be honored.

Why? Because it will be worth it.

Worth what? I don't know. But I'm sure I can find a reason when I do get around to it.


----------



## Vorput

> The remaining Angels stand silent and stock-still in the middle of what was so recently a raging battlefield. Nobody spares a glance for the mutilated corpse of their recent enemy, all eyes remaining focused on the form lying beside it. There is no blood on this figure, besides that which dripped from its killer, but there is no doubt about its state. What beholders, mindflayers, dragons and rakshasas could not do has finally occurred. Death has finally come for one of the Guardian Angels.




Alright, I'm going to speculate...  The fact that the body has no blood leads me to believe that it could be Six... but that feels wrong somehow.  So my guess is the "Ooze monster did it to with a death effect in the Kitchen*."  Dunno who though...

Vorp

*Aka forgotten Cavern.


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

Six is like a linch-pin of common sense in the group.  It'd be a shame to see him go.  But like I said, I'll be disappointed to see anyone permanently leave the group.



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> As I've already posted way too much on the General Discussion and Rules boards, the more time I spend with this campaign the less I think permanent death in the game is a necessary thing.




I generally agree with that sentiment.  I don't like killing PCs.  But I think removing death entirely removes an important element of drama.  Dropping to -11 and stabilizing with an action point or swashbuckler card just doesn't mean the same to me as "You _died_."  On the flip side, if you kill a PC every other session and allow resurrection with little (read: monetary) consequence, you've effectively done the same thing.

Seems to me we're basically in agreement about how to approach the situation.


----------



## Rackhir

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Six is like a linch-pin of common sense in the group.  It'd be a shame to see him go.  But like I said, I'll be disappointed to see anyone permanently leave the group.




Mithril Six of Six. A warforged. Barely Alive. 

We can rebuild him. We have the magic.

We can make him better. Stronger. Faster.

THE SIX MILLION GALIFAR WARFORGED!

DANANAH! DANANANANAH!


----------



## Sidekick

Bump?

Hey who's gonna cark it? Hmm my money is on either Korm, Gareth or Six.

Luna's happy bear dance needs to continue and Nameless is too much of a wizard to die - he'd just teleport/DDoor away from the danger if things got really hairy for him.

But then again the DM IS Shil. 

okay yeah it could be anyone of them.

My bets on them being killed by a demonic rabbit - now THATS a RBDM trick


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Bump?




Alas, the grading continues apace, and since I also had individual conferences with all my students, the story hour's been on the backburner for a few days. I'll try to throw something together during the weekend.



> Hey who's gonna cark it? Hmm my money is on either Korm, Gareth or Six.
> 
> Luna's happy bear dance needs to continue and Nameless is too much of a wizard to die - he'd just teleport/DDoor away from the danger if things got really hairy for him.
> 
> But then again the DM IS Shil.




 



> okay yeah it could be anyone of them.




It could actually quite easily have been at least one other person, and the PCs actually came out of it way better than they might have. I made a couple of very crappy rolls at important points, and they had a swashbuckling card that allowed auto-success on one save and another card that allowed reuse of a previous one, so they got two auto-saves.  

Anyhow, you'll see when it's up.



> My bets on them being killed by a demonic rabbit - now THATS a RBDM trick




Hah! I haven't used that yet, but maybe someday.

I did, however, use tumors of counterspelling and a quickened phlegm-bolt.


----------



## shilsen

Here you go. I'm relatively freer this week, so I should have the following update up in a few days.

* * * * * *
Tomas never had much in life, including hope, but he did have certainty. He was born a beggar, lived a beggar, and had assumed that he would die a beggar. Even so, things had recently improved. He was now actually living inside one of the Mud Caves (well, not inside, but under a lean-to attached to one, which was practically inside), sharing the space with only one other person. And Frulok was quite friendly for an ogre, and was letting Tomas share his patch of beach and try to fish off it. He’d even met a nice girl two caves down, and though one of her eyes had been rendered blind and milk-white from a childhood illness, she looked at him happily with the other. Who knows? Maybe in a few months he could invite her over to share the lean-to. Of course, he was still quite sure that he would still eventually die completely destitute, probably of some painful and wasting disease, but maybe there’d be just a few pathetic little gleams of happiness before that. Unfortunately for Tomas, he was dead wrong on all counts.

It began with the creatures that came for him in the night. For Tomas and Frulok and the Roonok family who lived in the cave behind them. There were a few moments of screaming terror, followed by merciful unconsciousness. Which ended too soon, in what seemed like endless pain. The pain quickly ripped through not just Tomas’ melting and mutating flesh but his helpless mind, which slowly crumbled under the invasive attack until there was nothing left but a tiny sliver of what had been a human being. And now that tiny remnant floated helplessly within what passed for the mind of the thing he had become, unable to affect the actions of its former body, which reacted only to the instincts imprinted within it by its creator. 

As the body shambled along the tunnel towards the intruders, driven only by the urge to slay and rend, the tiny element that was still Tomas wondered at the strange combination standing there. A warforged, a heavily muscled orc and, of all things, a huge bear, stood in the middle of the tunnel, while some distance behind them, a man in shining armor stood before another man, whose eyes glowed a strange blue. Heavily armed and well dressed, they were clearly not the kind of people Tomas would ever have had a chance to meet, but the simple fact that they faced his prison of flesh gave him hope. Hope which was shot through with terror at the thought that his body and the others like it might reach and slay them, leaving him trapped within it forever. Tomas’ will clawed desperately at the form encasing it, to no avail.

But, in that instant, he saw the man in the rear gesture and heard him speak something. A tiny fiery globe shoots forth, exploding into a giant ball of flame as it reaches Tomas and the others. Incredible pain envelops him as flesh chars and burns away, but his body refuses to stop, and continues forward. And then, amazingly, the bear growls and waves a paw. A second blast of flame, this time a column of it, envelops the four of them, and this time, even the unworldly forces holding spirit and flesh together unravel under the magical assault. Slowly, his charred and partly melted form collapses to the tunnel floor. And deep within, as the pain fades, Tomas laughs in relief and release, as his consciousness and soul spiral away.

* * * * *  
Three of the first four creatures are blasted apart by Nameless and Luna’s spells, both of them empowered beyond normal levels by their special abilities, but the fourth somehow staggers onwards. Behind it, another four similar creatures emerge. The wounded creature goes down under Six’s chain, but the others rush him and the two druids. Preferring to conserve their spells, the Angels meet them with weapons instead. 

While the lashing tentacles of the ooze-creatures leave painful bruises, the heavy protection of the Angels’ armor and multiple dweomers prevent them from inflicting lethal damage. The various protections against acid are especially helpful, negating the effect of the acrid slime that coats the tentacles. The creatures have less resistance to the Angels’ attacks, and a mixture of blood and ooze flies across the tunnel as chain, claws, teeth and sword bite into them. The Angels discover that the lack of real vitals makes the creatures more difficult to take down, but the volume of damage they put out is impossible to withstand.

The ooze-creatures have a few more surprises at hand – or tentacle, however. As Luna rears up to hug an enemy and bite down on it, another wraps both tentacles around one of her legs, and pulls. With a surprised snarl, the druid disbalances and lands with a thud. Angry, and a little embarrassed, at the fall, she refuses to release her enemy but brings it down with her, continuing to shred it till nothing remains. Korm, cutting down the creature that tripped her, is tripped in turn and hurled backwards to slam against the tunnel wall. There’s a bigger surprise for Six. The ooze-creature with the longest tentacles shoots them at him. As he dodges back, they wrap around one of the chains he wears on his shoulder and pulls it off, before lashing out with it and hitting the prone Korm on the head.

After the momentary surprise, however, the Angels quickly slash the creatures apart. Gareth and Nameless, having seen that they are winning easily enough, walk up and join them. “Didn’t expect to see one of those things roll you around, Luna,” comments Gareth, causing the druid-bear to growl and smack him playfully with a paw, which bounces him off the tunnel’s wall with a loud clang.

“Now, now, Luna,” says Nameless, with an appreciative grin, “Don’t play with your food.”

While Gareth remonstrates with Luna, the Angels proceed quickly but cautiously into the chamber the creatures emerged from. The room is a perfect square, sixty feet on a side, its roof matching the twenty foot high tunnel leading into it. And out, since a similar one leads out to left and right. The chamber is empty except for a five foot wide and ten foot deep pool in the center, and eight alcoves (slightly larger and deeper than required to contain a well-built human) in the walls. The rope tied to Six’s stone leads into the pool, which is filled with a translucent liquid that bubbles slowly. Eight thin streams lead from it to the alcoves, forming a small pool at the bottom of each, from which a network of ‘veins’ lead up the alcoves. The fluid seems to be flowing sluggishly out of the pool to the alcoves and back. 

Korm looks around, scowls and says, “Is it just me, or does this resemble the sort of things we saw in Yarkuun Draal?”

Six, extricating his stone from the pool, nods. Luna interrupts with a growl, indicating with gestures that she can hear something from each of the two tunnels. Listening, the others hear a soft slurping sound from one and an even fainter moaning from the other. The moans seem to be in more than one voice. 

“So, which way?” asks Gareth. “I say we check on the moaning. That’s probably from the captured people.”

“Yes, but the slurping sound is probably related to these ooze things, and I don’t want to…,” begins Nameless, but Six interrupts with a resigned, “Umm – guys?” The others turn to see what he indicates, namely Luna’s giant, hairy rear disappearing down the tunnel which the slurping comes from.

“Oh, bloody hell – Luna!”

The others follow the druid and, after a couple of turns, find her looking at the end of the tunnel. A gigantic ooze, filling the entirety of the tunnel, is flush against the far wall. As the Angels watch warily, it slowly dissolves a layer of the stone from the wall, absorbing it into its gelatinous form. Though they are only about forty feet away, it shows no signs of noticing them. 

After a few seconds, the Angels decide to leave it alone, since it isn’t bothering them, and check the other tunnel. Proceeding down it, they find that it runs a little further before disappearing into a bank of fog. The moaning, as well as a soft bubbling sound, emerges from what seems to be a few feet into the fog and to the right. Nameless, focusing through his permanent _arcane sight_, says, “Faint conjuration. _Obscuring mist_ or _fog cloud_.” 

Luna makes a motion to enter, but is quickly stopped by the others. “Let me check it out,” says Six, before rolling his stone sphere into the fog. A couple of seconds after it enters, there is the crunch of it smashing into a stone wall. “Damn!” Six pulls out the ball by its attached rope, to find it cracked. “Only about twenty feet in, I think.”

Luna growls her impatience, and Korm says, “Fine – I’ll check it.” He hefts his sword and proceeds into the mist, with a hand on the right wall. Five feet in, he finds an opening to the right. Turning and entering, he emerges suddenly from the _mist_ into a huge room. After a quick look around, he steps back out, follows the wall around through the _mist_ to find that there is no other exit. Re-emerging to join the others, he explains, “There’s a big room to the right. No other exits.”

“No little gnome vampire girls, I see,” says Nameless.

Korm chuckles. “No. How are you so sure?”

“You weren’t screaming and running and pale.”

“Can you blame me?” says Korm with a good-natured laugh. “And I wasn’t screaming that time.”

The Angels proceed into the room, weapons and spells at the ready, and fan out, studying the various things it contains. The chamber, like all those they have encountered here, has smooth walls and ceiling. Besides the entrance they used, two more are present, one in the same wall and the other opposite it, both near the far side of the room eighty feet away. Set against the center of the far wall is a large stone slab, stained with what seems to be blood and other liquids, on which some instruments stand. A blood trail leads down from it and into the furthermost of the two tunnels. Above the slab, midway up the wall, shines a large yellow crystal, illuminating the chamber in conjunction with a second, larger one set into the center of the ceiling, both resembling those they saw in Yarkuun Draal. Dividing the room into a central section and one to either side are two pairs of long rectangular pools, set end to end in length, each containing a dark, reddish-brown liquid that bubbles constantly. Small streams run from the pools to the walls, to a number of alcoves, two of them occupied by what seem to be bugbears held in a cocoon-like structure of webbing. Though their eyes are closed, the bugbears are the source of the moaning, as are two humans, whose heads protrude from the furthermost of the pools, held there by similar webbing. 

Nameless scans the room, finding multiple auras in the liquid in the pools, but nothing else. While Six checks on the humans and Korm moves towards the bugbears, Nameless heads towards the crystal on the far wall, but then a large paw stops him. “What’s wrong?” he asks, as Luna growls and shakes her head. The bear gestures irritatedly and then turns to Gareth, indicating that he should read her surface thoughts.

Curious, Gareth complies, and then laughs. “Luna says, ‘No touching crystals. Of any kind. Ever!’” He grins at Luna. “Bad memories from the Shard?” Luna nods vigorously and growls at Nameless, as the rest laugh.

The merriment is cut off by the sound of multiple, quick footsteps, and the Angels look up as three figures emerge from the two other tunnels. The two that emerge together from the tunnel to the left are clearly trolls, but like the creatures the Angels saw previously, much of their bodies seem to be made of translucent green goo, and patches of similarly colored slime coats their bodies. They do still retain their arms, complete with claws at the end of them, but each also has a thick tentacle, longer than it is tall, growing out of its chest. Each tentacle is also covered in the green slime and lashes back and forth as they advance. Similar slime coats their claws and drips from their snarling mouths.

Only Korm recognizes the smaller figure that steps out of the other tunnel. It is Cainan, the druid belonging to the Children of Winter, whom they fought in Carosten Park months ago. Since he had appeared as a huge bat during that battle, only Korm – who fought him, with Cedric’s aid, before he met the Angels – knows his real appearance. But even Korm takes a couple of seconds to realize that it is Cainan, so drastically is he changed. Sections of ooze make up parts of the druid’s naked body, but interspersed among them are patches of clearly diseased skin, covered in scabs and suppurating boils. Worst of all are the thick tumor-like growths, some of them the size of a large fist, which cover the right side of his now almost hairless skull. They extend down Cainan’s neck to his upper chest and back, while a line of them stretches all the way down his right arm, making it almost twice as thick as his left. Luna momentarily regrets her preternaturally fine sight, which lets her see the slow throbbing of the various growths, pulsing with an unnatural, warped life of their own. A couple of the growths on Cainan’s head have burst and partly collapsed, sending thick yellow pus trickling down the side of his head and face, which mixes with mucus dripping from his right nostril, but he seems unaffected by it. Lastly, but to Nameless’ eyes most singular of all, his forehead bears a neat triangle marked by three holes, each of which gleams with green slime within.

As the Angels stare at Cainan with a mixture of repugnance, nausea, horror and fascination, he opens his mouth. A thin trickle of the pus works its way into his lips, causing him to spray yellow flecks at the intruders as he snarls, “You’ve interfered one last time. Now your bodies will feed the plague!”


----------



## Sidekick

OUTRAGE!! That this thread should stay unbumped or loved for so long. 

Fie Fie on us all. 

A plague on all our houses!!! (and all that jazz)

Anywho Shil, liking the updates, keep em coming. Who dies who dies who dies. 

I need to know.

So this can be a bump

For the Indians winning the Cricket World Cup (‘cause the Black Caps ain’t gonna).


----------



## Furby076

Heh Shil we got them fooled into thinking someone dies. It's great raising their spirits and then when the updates come out bring the hammer crashing down upon it.  I told you the entire group could agree on one thing - other people's misery


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:
			
		

> Heh Shil we got them fooled into thinking someone dies. It's great raising their spirits and then when the updates come out bring the hammer crashing down upon it.  I told you the entire group could agree on one thing - other people's misery








			
				Sidekick said:
			
		

> OUTRAGE!! That this thread should stay unbumped or loved for so long.
> 
> Fie Fie on us all.
> 
> A plague on all our houses!!! (and all that jazz)




You know what they say about no accounting for taste.



> Anywho Shil, liking the updates, keep em coming. Who dies who dies who dies.
> 
> I need to know.




Pity I use the swashbuckling cards, since otherwise I could have had a separate answer for each of those "who dies." Oh well, I guess we'll settle for the one.



> So this can be a bump
> 
> For the Indians winning the Cricket World Cup (‘cause the Black Caps ain’t gonna).




I'll settle for India in the semis. And though I don't expect the Black Caps to win either, they've got to get props for being the only team with a guy talking about amputating a finger to play in the Cup. Oram's nuts!

And, without further ado, here we go...


* * * * * *

Nameless, who can see the dozen magical auras layering their enemy’s form, shouts, “Concentrate on him!” As he speaks, he’s already casting, and another cloud of mist, far thicker than the one outside the chamber, its vapors emitting an acrid scent, envelops the trolls. “Lots of magic on him – _dispel_ it!”

As Korm hurries to comply, he identifies the enemy, “It’s that Children of Winter druid, Cainan,” and then adds to Cainan, “Seriously, dude – what happened to your face?” Luna, with a growling chuckle at the comment, also complies. 

To the surprise of the two druids, as their _dispel_s hit Cainan, two of the tumors on his neck explode with a sickening sound, spraying more yellow pus across his form. Nameless, seeing all of the auras still intact, confirms, “No effect!” Gareth, quickly casting a protective spell for the group from the rear, pauses for a second. “What the hell? He has _tumors of counterspelling_?!”

As Cainan smiles lopsidedly, Six mutters, “Time to do it the old-fashioned way” and leaps forward, chain whirling, planning to reach, strike and move by Cainan. Instead, there’s a thump, as if he ran into an invisible wall, as he is still about ten feet from the target, the unexpected impact sending the speeding warforged tumbling off at an angle and almost off his feet. There is a small bonus for Six. Even as he spins off balance, Cainan gestures and a powerful _arc of lightning_ lashes through the area he had just occupied. Not so luckily for his companions, the _arc_ extends from Korm at one end, through Nameless, to Luna at the other, leaving all of them wounded. The bear, every hair standing on end, snarls angrily with an expression that says, “Hey – that’s _my_ spell!”

“What the hell?” repeats Gareth again, completing his spell, causing a momentary flash of silvery flame to envelop and strengthen his allies and himself. “How’d he do that to Six? Nameless – _summon_ something!”

“Stop blithering and get your shiny ass in here!” retorts Nameless as he rises into the air, but he does _summon_ a large stag beetle. The creature rears over Cainan, tentacles waving and slams down, only to bounce harmlessly off another invisible barrier. Nameless scowls and hurls a volley of _magic missile_s in an instant, slamming into Cainan and inflicting damage for the first time. A frost-tipped arrow from Six, who has backed off to try a different tack, follows and sinks into his shoulder.

The confident smirk disappears off Cainan’s face and he snarls in anger, quickly _dispel_ling the _acid fog_ around the trolls. Ignoring Korm, who tries to move in from a different direction and is repelled by the invisible barrier, the diseased druid turns to the stag beetle and reaches out towards it. As he does so, Luna’s column of flame envelops Cainan and the closest troll, but neither of them is more than scorched, the pre-cast resistance spells absorbing the bulk of the damage. Cainan touches his target and the huge creature shudders as its carapace cracks around his hand, its life energy flowing into him and healing a number of his wounds. 

“Oh, come on!” complains Gareth, and then his eyes go wide as Cainan gestures in his direction. Immediately, the fluid in the two pools closest to him rises in a wave, splashing down on him. Gareth staggers under the impact, and watches in mounting alarm as the fluid comes together and rises higher and higher, forming a cubical whole that soon towers over him. As the newly formed gelatinous ooze, the size of the one they had seen eating away at the tunnel wall, slithers forward at him, he barely throws himself out of the way.* 

The now freed trolls rush forward, but not before Nameless unleashes an empowered _fireball_, modifying the spell with the power of his ring even as he places it perfectly so as to strike only his foes. Instead of flame, the spell explodes with a burst of acid. Though the liquid splashes harmlessly off the trolls, evidently immune to acid, it overcomes the limited resistance of Cainan, melting his putrid flesh down to the bone. The diseased druid screams in agony, exacerbated by the following volley of _magic missile_s. 

“Now you die, mage!” says Cainan. He rips his fingers through one of the tumors of his arm and hurls a lump of pus. The yellow lump expands into a stony mass and flies through the air to smash Nameless in the chest, cracking ribs as it hits. Somehow, Nameless manages to stay aloft**, but Cainan follows up with an equally nauseating attack. He spits a stream of saliva, which magically shoots forward to smash Nameless over the heart. Without a word, the alienist falls out of the air and lands with a crunch by the wall***.

As Cainan smiles in triumph, the pseudonatural beetle rushes forward and slams into him, almost taking him off his feet. Three fire elementals, summoned by Luna, also appear around and hammer him with painful blows, even if the flame doesn’t hurt him. Already badly wounded by Nameless’ spells, Cainan hurriedly shouts to the trolls, “Kill them,” and casts another spell. A green cocoon, just like the ones Luna and Korm so regularly use, englobes him. The elementals turn to aid Luna, followed, after a few seconds of futile scratching, by the beetle.

With Cainan temporarily out of the battle, things swiftly go much better for the Angels. Though they are powerful and have been modified by Cainan’s arts and magic to not be lethally hurt by any attack, the trolls find their defenses slowly being overcome by the sheer volume of damage the Angels can put out, and their enemies are as resistant as them. One troll, having missed Six**** with a lashing tentacle, vomits a cone of acidic slime over its enemies, but their magical protections nullify the effect. The other lashes its tentacle around Luna and begins to slowly squeeze the breath out of the huge bear, but despite the constriction Luna continues to bite and claw at it, and its focus on her lets Korm and her elementals smash away at it. Against the far wall, Gareth hacks away at the giant ooze, its gelatinous form offering no resistance to his blade. The mindless creature lashes out with a pseudopod and grabs him, but the Endless Blade promptly shrinks into a shortsword, letting him continue to shred the creature.

The troll not wrestling Luna is the first to go down, literally and figuratively. Six, calling on an ability that he has discovered his harness grants him, suddenly expands and grows to twice his height and bulk, his equipment magically expanding as well. The now twenty foot long spiked chain spins out and around the troll’s back leg as it advances, and the giant warforged pulls it off its feet. Seizing the opportunity, Korm turns and smashes his blade over and over into its head, and it collapses into unconsciousness. Behind him, Luna bites down on the head of the one squeezing her, and it too slowly crumbles to the ground. Gareth’s foe too slowly breaks up and falls apart, leaving him covered in sticky goop but still on his feet. “Damn right!” says the Endless Blade, expanding back into a greatsword. “Now let’s get that ugly er in the globe!”

As it is speaking, the _cocoon_ falls apart and Cainan steps out, with all his wounds healed. As he looks around, his confident look fades at the sight of all his allies lying on the ground. With a disappointed snarl, Cainan reaches a hand up to his face, places three fingers into the mixture of fluid trickling from his nostril and one of the burst tumors on his head, and flicks it at the Angels. The mixture of phlegm and pus elongates into three dart-like bolts, sinking into Korm’s and Luna’s flesh. Already critically wounded by the troll she had been fighting, Luna somehow remains conscious***** and manages to cast a _cocoon_ of her own before she collapses. 

Korm, comparatively much less hurt, rushes forward, but again bounces off an invisible barrier. He shakes his head in confusion, wondering how the beetle and elementals could reach Cainan and he couldn’t, and then understanding dawns. “_Anti-life shell_!” Cainan smiles gleefully at the realization on Korm’s face, but then the smile disappears, as the big orc bends backwards and then uncoils, hurling his sword forward with all his power. The meteoric blade slashes through the air and slashes into Cainan’s chest, punching him off his feet and slamming him into the wall. As he screams in agony and bounces off, the sword disappears, reappearing in Korm’s hand, who says, “Laugh that off!”

Even as Cainan staggers, Six steps forward and his chain whirls out. With its huge reach, the size of the _shell_ is immaterial, and it lashes around Cainan’s leg. With a flick of the wrist, Six deposits him on the floor and then whirls to slash down on him. And again. Cainan screams again, as his flesh is flayed off by the chain’s barbs, blood and pus pooling around him. Desperately, he rolls over and climbs onto Nameless’ unconscious form, which had landed near him. “Stay back!” Cainan screams, clapping his hands onto Nameless’ head. “Attack me and your friend dies!” He shouts a command and the liquid fountains out of the remaining two pools, again forming its way into a giant ooze, but not attacking yet. 

The Angels pause for a moment, unsure what to do next. Then Gareth, stepping closer, says, “And if you kill him, you die. Let him go.” Cainan shakes his head, spraying varicolored fluid over Nameless’ face. “Leave here and I will release him.”

“We cannot leave him with you. And we cannot let you continue what you are doing,” persists Gareth. “Surrender now.” As he is speaking, Luna’s _cocoon_ falls apart and she charges out. “Wait!” shouts Korm. “He’s got Nameless!” 

Luna skids to a stop, snarling her anger and confusion. Luckily, one of the nearby trolls regains consciousness and sits up, only for a huge paw to smash it down. Unfortunately, with no similar distractions and no way for her to command them while in bear form, her _summon_ed elementals are not similarly dissuaded and rush forward at Cainan. A warning shout lets Six know what’s happening, and he whirls, chain swinging out to knock the elementals down or away. “Luna, somebody – stop them!” he shouts.

Unfortunately, there is one remaining attacker, who has been steadily heading across the battlefield towards Cainan, and now finding a clear path, charges. As the Angels shout futile orders, the pseudonatural beetle barrels down on Cainan as he crouches on its summoner’s body. It’s ironic and – for Nameless – deadly. As it pounds towards him, Cainan screams and reflexively casts the spell he had ready. Under his hands, the alienist’s body convulses and then goes slack.

The beetle’s mandibles snap shut only inches above his head, and with his last bargaining piece gone, Cainan desperately backs away, babbling, “I … I have much lore to give you if you let me go!” His desperate eyes glare around, and under the diseased, pus-ridden cover his visage pales, as the expressions he sees on the Angels’ faces. As Cainan opens his mouth to shriek another plea, Korm growls and hurls his sword again. Quickly as it flies through the air, Six’s chain leaps out beside it, and both disappear into an inferno of fire and divine energy that blasts down where Cainan lies. 

A few seconds later, the surviving Angels stand silent and stock-still in the middle of what was so recently a raging battlefield. Nobody spares a glance for the mutilated corpse of their recent enemy, all eyes remaining focused on the form lying beside it. There is no blood on this figure, besides that which dripped from its killer, but there is no doubt about its state. What beholders, mind flayers, dragons and rakshasas could not do has finally occurred. Death has finally come for one of the Guardian Angels.

* * * * *
Gareth looks up from Nameless’ corpse and says, “What should we do? Take him back and cremate him?”

Luna, who has transformed back to shifter form, gives him a withering look. “Are you nuts? I’ll _reincarnate_ him once we gather the reagents I need.” She smiles, though it lacks the usual humor. “Maybe he’ll come back as a shifter.”

“Let’s just hope he comes back,” says Korm darkly. “And with all the strange things that have happened with him, hopefully he won’t come back _wrong_. Anyway, we have to try.”

“Nameless did say that if this happened we should try to bring him back. We all did,” points out Six. He produces the _portable hole_, lowers himself in, and has the others hand him in Nameless’ corpse, which he carefully wraps in an extra robe and places within.

Then, the remaining Angels search Cainan, his troll servitors and the general area. To their mild disappointment, neither the trolls nor Cainan actually have any equipment on them. The former are completely naked and Cainan has nothing besides a robe that has definitely seen better days and a belt with pouches that hold spellcasting materials, and what seem to be alchemical supplies, ointments and unguents. None of them are magical. What is magical, however, are two of the largest tumors remaining on his neck and head. More precisely, something within each of them.

Gareth pulls out the Endless Blade, which instantly resizes into a very thin dagger, and begins to carve into the tumors. The surface of the first tumor is quite hard, but with a magic weapon and Gareth's strength, he easily cuts into it. There’s a nauseating sound halfway between a pop and a squelch as the tumor explodes/deflates, sending a small spray of thick yellow fluid, shot through with red, across Gareth’s gauntlet, while a strong whiff of corruption (exceeding that which already exists in the area) envelops the group. 

After a little digging, Gareth locates a hard object at the core of the tumor and manages to pry it out. It’s like a very large and incredibly hard raisin, and has what seem to be small tendrils extending into the diseased flesh around it. Six notices, without much pleasure, that the tendrils slightly resemble those that he was shown as extending from his harness into himself. 

Gareth repeats the process and digs out a second magical ‘raisin’ from the other tumor that detected of magic. While he is doing so, a couple of the others check the two people who are inside one of the pools (now empty since the fluid in it emerged to form the second ooze, which was dispatched right after Cainan was) and the two bugbears. All four seem to be unconscious and examination reveals that the web-like cocoons around them extend into their bodies in multiple places. Wherever the tendrils enter, the flesh around them has turned soft and, in some places, oozelike. They’re evidently well into the process of turning into the half-ooze creatures the group fought.

“It may be too late for them, but we should place them in the _hole_ and see if the Archierophant can help them. If not, then we should burn their bodies and consecrate their remains.”

The Angels also check the two corridors, which lead to separate rooms. One is covered in slime and holds half a dozen more semi-complete cocoons, which seem to be very slowly growing out of the slime. The other chamber, presumably a bedchamber for Cainan, holds a single cocoon with indentations that would fit his body. One side of the chamber is taken up with stone shelves, which hold a collection of stone jars and boxes. Most have significantly baroque decorations, which a couple of them recognize as similar to or the same as the Dhakaani art they saw at Yarkuun Draal. The jars and boxes hold a collection of more ointments and unguents, as well as some alchemical fluids, samples of ooze, and some particularly nauseating organs preserved in ooze.

The only real thing of interest in the room is one part of a wall, which is covered in writing, apparently created through the method of etching words into the stone with acid. The text is apparently Cainan's ramblings about how he met someone who he normally only identifies as “her” or “she” in the depths of the undercity far below Sharn, how she wanted information about the city above and in return gave him knowledge about disease and oozes, how she wanted to keep him with her but he fled when he had the chance, and how he’d been planning to capture and experiment with his new knowledge on the indigents of the area before releasing the plague into Sharn. There is also significant paranoid rambling about how he thinks she is watching him. There is only one place where he uses a name for her – Calderus.

Having ensured that there are no exits to the place that they have missed, the Angels make their way back, pausing to destroy the last remaining ooze. Naturally, the primary subject of discussion along the way is bringing Nameless back before his soul can be permanently seized upon by Dolurrh. Just as naturally, this being Nameless, his companions are completely wrong about where he currently is.

* * * * * 
Nameless opens his eyes to the sharp throbbing of a painful headache and looks around. The last thing he remembers was being in the battle in the Mud Caves, and seeing Cainan hurling a spell in his direction. The scene in front of him is very different.

Purplish-pink clouds float above and below, in the dark nothingness that surrounds him. The air around him feels syrupy and thick, palpable to the touch. Other ... things ... are present, both near and far. A few dozen feet away, a shape rotates slowly past. As if rotates, it continually changes from one geometric form to the next, sometimes lingering within one while it has already taken on another, so that it forms a four sided triangle or an octagonal cube. From off to his left and above, a stream of azure globules stream by, breaking up into fist-sized blue ticks as they fall.

About five hundred feet to Nameless’ right, what seems like a thin translucent curtain hangs in the air, stretching off in every direction. Another curtain is visible a foot behind it, and three more curtains can be seen at varying distances. A stream of what looks like white milk flows vertically upwards between two of the curtains and then turns at right angles to flow through one and then end abruptly ten feet beyond. Far below, near the limits of Nameless’ vision, the furthest of the curtains dips into a forest of tentacled vegetation lined with orange moss, which seems to float on a giant amoebic sea, through which huge gelatinous worms wiggle. The sea roils and a gigantic shape slowly emerges, an immense central mass topped with myriad multi-sized eyes ringed with tentacles, which slowly drifts along the curtains, its bulk extending through them. Considering the distance, Nameless estimates it is probably the size of a small village.

As he takes in the various sights, Nameless suddenly has the complete certainty - though he’s not sure why - that he is dead. But he is not on Dolurrh, where the souls of the deceased supposedly go. This is Xoriat.

Then, a voice behind Nameless says, “Hello, Nameless. Or should I call you Edgar?” The voice is familiar, and so is the form he finds floating, as he is, ten feet behind him. 

It is himself.


* A swashbuckling card let him auto-succeed on the check. Otherwise, Gareth would have been grappled and effectively out of the fight.
** Another card let Nameless reuse Gareth’s and succeed on a save to avoid being stunned for 1d4 rds. Ironically, if he hadn’t used it and been stunned, Cainan would have gone after someone else and Nameless would probably have survived.
*** Dropped below -10 and kept alive via our house rule.
**** I rolled a 2. If that had hit, Six would probably have been grappled, as Luna was. That might have swung the fight too. 
***** One more swashbuckling card. They got a really good set this time.


----------



## Arkhandus

Woohoo!!  An update!

Given the luck of orc-blooded druids in the campaign, I'd have guessed Korm died.  But nope...

Cool that Nameless gets a look at Xoriat first-hand....  Mmm.....  Far Realmsy goodness.....tastes like green.

Question is, of course.........can anyone's spells bring Nameless back?  And, will he come back as a giant purple nematoad inhabited by singing (gurgling) tap-dancing dolgrims, who thinks he's actually rock named Edgar?

*waits in suspense*


----------



## Vorput

Blue sleeps faster than Friday... and in the far realms, Namless floats in ooze carrying non-euclidan shapes and meets himself.

Cool.

What the heck was Cainan?  I vaguely recall something from 3.0 tome and blood... cancer mage or some such?  And what's with the ooze creatures?!

I demmand mechanics and crunch behind my fluffy story hours!!!!


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> Blue sleeps faster than Friday... and in the far realms, Namless floats in ooze carrying non-euclidan shapes and meets himself.
> 
> Cool.
> 
> What the heck was Cainan?  I vaguely recall something from 3.0 tome and blood... cancer mage or some such?  And what's with the ooze creatures?!
> 
> I demmand mechanics and crunch behind my fluffy story hours!!!!




He was actually one of those plot threads we ignored. There was something back in the early days of the campaign when we were asked/had mentioned to us something about tracking down the source of some disease or something. Korm as mentioned encountered him before he joined up with us, while I think we were on the island. He also showed up and attacked us in the park at the time that Korm joined us, just before we headed off to give the Shard to the Gatekeepers.

Cainan was a Oozemaster/Druid I think Shil said.


----------



## shilsen

Arkhandus said:
			
		

> Given the luck of orc-blooded druids in the campaign, I'd have guessed Korm died.  But nope...




Korm actually came out of this one remarkably unscathed by his standards. 



> Cool that Nameless gets a look at Xoriat first-hand....  Mmm.....  Far Realmsy goodness.....tastes like green.




When Nameless died, my first thought was, "Now I should give him a little bit of a sense of what's on the other side in Dolurrh." And then I thought, "Wait a sec - why Dolurrh? Considering his connection to Xoriat, this would be the perfect situation to do a little bit of a side-trip there." 



> Question is, of course.........can anyone's spells bring Nameless back?  And, will he come back as a giant purple nematoad inhabited by singing (gurgling) tap-dancing dolgrims, who thinks he's actually rock named Edgar?




They're planning to try a Reincarnate from Luna, so we'll find out soon. And the answer to the second question is, "How would you tell the difference?"

One interesting question, that the players are aware of but the PCs aren't, is exactly what happens to Nameless' abilities in a new body. He evidently gains a big part, if not all, of his interest in and facility with Xoriat-related things, i.e. his alienist PrC abilities, from the 'footprint'/wound in his head left by the temporary contact with an imprisoned daelkyr in the Mournland before the campaign began. So what happens if his soul reappears in a completely new body? Is it a physical effect that'll disappear with the transfer? Since nobody besides Nameless knows about this, the other PCs aren't concerned about it.



> *waits in suspense*




Not that long to wait this time. We're playing on Saturday, and since my spring break starts that day, I'll be a little faster on updates, though I'll be working over the break. Yes, that's how I spend spring break - grading and writing story hour updates.



			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> What the heck was Cainan? I vaguely recall something from 3.0 tome and blood... cancer mage or some such? And what's with the ooze creatures?!
> 
> I demmand mechanics and crunch behind my fluffy story hours!!!!




Rackhir is partly right above, but only in a flavor sense. I knew some stuff had happened to Cainan behind the scenes in the intervening months since he fought the Angels, and I was trying to decide between an ooze focus and a disease one, and then decided to just go with both. I didn't actually look at either of the PrCs, but Cainan had some of the flavor of the oozemaster and the cancer mage.

Mechanically, he was just an 11th lvl druid (with a few higher level spells gone to power the things he was doing with converting humanoids to ooze creatures) without the wildshape ability and most other standard nature-based ones, and with ooze traits added instead. The whole disease/ooze angle added to him was just for flavor, with me giving a number of spells a description based on that. So, for example, hurling a bolt of hardened pus at Nameless was the _icelance_ spell, shooting bolts of phlegm was the _splinterbolt_ spell (both from SC), etc. I did the same with magic items, which is why he had tumors of counterspelling  

I'm a big believer in taking existing mechanics and molding them to fit the flavor you need, and Cainan and some of the other things down there were a perfect example of that. Flavorwise, the ooze creatures were obviously humanoids who'd been converted into partial ooze, making them stronger and more durable. Mechanically, most of them were Warforged Ftr6, with the Adamantine Body feat to replicate resistance to crits (should be immunity, but I dropped it to 75% to represent partial immunity and give the PCs a chance to crit). A couple, the ones with the long tentacles, were actually slightly modified Chain Devils, which is why they had longer tentacles and one managed to grab one of Six's chains and hit Korm (Dancing Chains ability). The two trolls were beefed up trolls (Ftr2) with the voidmind template.


----------



## Sidekick

Poor old Nameless, I’m sure he’ll be back. 

Perhaps as a changeling or <shudders> A GNOME!!!

Nice update Shil, that was a very gross and sickening fight. The puss/ooze angle was really creepy.

That’s a very nice insight into the mechanics v fluff aspect that I respect so much about you as DM Shil. I’m still learning in that respect but the issue of taking a group of stats from something else and then using them in a new way/creature is a great idea. 

I mean sure WF fighter 6s are nasty, but using their mechanics to represent oozeified humanoids is very cool.

Ka Pai


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

shilsen said:
			
		

> One interesting question, that the players are aware of but the PCs aren't, is exactly what happens to Nameless' abilities in a new body. He evidently gains a big part, if not all, of his interest in and facility with Xoriat-related things, i.e. his alienist PrC abilities, from the 'footprint'/wound in his head left by the temporary contact with an imprisoned daelkyr in the Mournland before the campaign began. So what happens if his soul reappears in a completely new body? Is it a physical effect that'll disappear with the transfer? Since nobody besides Nameless knows about this, the other PCs aren't concerned about it.




*sniff sniff*

Smells like someone wants to make use of the character rebuilding rules from the PHB II.


----------



## Rackhir

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> *sniff sniff*
> 
> Smells like someone wants to make use of the character rebuilding rules from the PHB II.




Nope, I was just fine with Nameless as he was. Besides there's nothing really to modify on Nameless without taking him in some substantially different direction, which would kind of ruin the character.


----------



## Furby076

Personally, since Nameless prefers to go unnoticed and does not rely on physical stats I thought bringing him back as an owl would be cool.  He doesn't care for the social graces (like Gareth) so if anything that will take him out of the scene for a while.  He doesn't need physical stats (well because he is a wizard).  He is now small sized, and thusly harder to hit. He can fly. He has low light vision.  Perfect solution.


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Poor old Nameless, I’m sure he’ll be back.
> 
> Perhaps as a changeling or <shudders> A GNOME!!!




Unsurprisingly enough, both possibilities were among those discussed. If he comes back as a gnome, I think they'd want to just kill him and try to bring him back in another form. Sadly, I have a house rule that somebody raised by a particular spell can never be brought back by the same spell again. So once they've used a Reincarnate on Nameless, if it works, they can't ever use it on him again.



> Nice update Shil, that was a very gross and sickening fight. The puss/ooze angle was really creepy.




Thanks. Apparently really gross stuff is my particular DMing niche.



> That’s a very nice insight into the mechanics v fluff aspect that I respect so much about you as DM Shil. I’m still learning in that respect but the issue of taking a group of stats from something else and then using them in a new way/creature is a great idea.
> 
> I mean sure WF fighter 6s are nasty, but using their mechanics to represent oozeified humanoids is very cool.




 

Thanks. The more time I spend DMing, the more I'm willing to mess with standard things and find myself coming up with more and more methods for doing so (like what I've done with XP and with death in the game). I've done this kind of stuff often enough in the campaign, and I find it generally works very well. There were a couple of good threads about similar things on the General RPG discussion, once of which had an excellent example from a DM whose PCs encountered some very creepy undead that were each bound to the individual gravestone of the particular grave he or she had been buried in. Mechanically, they were dryads bound to their oaks. It was really well done. 



			
				GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> *sniff sniff*
> 
> Smells like someone wants to make use of the character rebuilding rules from the PHB II.




As Rackhir said, not so. Also, they'd be irrelevant in my game, since I've allowed players to change equipment, skills, feats, and even classes between sessions. Within reason, it makes hardly any difference to the character and the concept and the story, and just makes the player happier. And those moments of happiness keep them coming back for the hours of unhappiness 



			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> Nope, I was just fine with Nameless as he was. Besides there's nothing really to modify on Nameless without taking him in some substantially different direction, which would kind of ruin the character.




   



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> Personally, since Nameless prefers to go unnoticed and does not rely on physical stats I thought bringing him back as an owl would be cool. He doesn't care for the social graces (like Gareth) so if anything that will take him out of the scene for a while. He doesn't need physical stats (well because he is a wizard). He is now small sized, and thusly harder to hit. He can fly. He has low light vision. Perfect solution.




*hoot*

*hoot*

*empowered disintegrate*

*hoot*


----------



## Solarious

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Nope, I was just fine with Nameless as he was. Besides there's nothing really to modify on Nameless without taking him in some substantially different direction, which would kind of ruin the character.



Dear. I know your levels in Alienist affects your sanity (as we know it, anyways) and warps your perception in many ways. The logic of Xoriat is not one that any but it's natives can comprehend. But you, of all people, know better than to give shilsen more ideas. That's my job. Anything interesting happens to you, and you can put all the blame squarely on yourself this time. I wash my hands of this and absolve myself of all responsibility.

Of course, this obviously means I'm going to enjoy your further misfortunes greatly.

*pulls up a lawn chair and a bowl of popcorn*


----------



## Furby076

*Pulls up another lawn chair to Solarious and hands him a beer. "Well, at least it's not me this time.  I figure, Shil will pick on Rack for two years, then cycle through the other three players for two years each, so that gives me about 7-8 years of recovery."*


----------



## shilsen

Well, we didn't play yesterday since Rackhir has apparently had a sympathetic sickness with his character dying, but we'll be playing today. Quite appropriate, actually, since it's March 4th and GM Day.

But we did handle some things happening with Nameless on Xoriat online in between sessions, so here you have it:

* * * * * * * * * * * *
Nameless considers the floating figure for a moment and then says, calmly but with a slight edge to his tone, “I doubt you’re me or you’d know the answer to that question and since you are appearing as me, you obviously wish to disguise what you really are. So I won’t bother asking who or what you are. Finally as Xoriat isn’t known for its hospitality or welcoming committees, I conclude you aren’t here simply to say ‘Hi’. So, let us cut to the chase then. What do you want?” 

As he speaks, Nameless notes that he is wearing everything that he had on when he died, but he’s aware that it’s just an appearance. None of his items are actually present on him, which is understandably the case when the soul travels from the body after death (though usually it ends up in Dolurrh). The weird thing, however, is that he has all his spells, including the ones he had cast during the day, and that’s not supposed to be the case with a departed soul either. Also, the permanent enhancements from the Silver Flame have stayed with him.

The other version of Nameless, who Nameless’ _arcane sight_ reveals to have no magical items or spells in effect on him, laughs. “Little impatient, aren’t we? And in theory I _am_ you. Part of you. Remember that little thing in your head that speaks to you and makes you ... well, special? That’s me. I’m a lot better attuned to this place than even you are, so here I take on a little bit more of an existence of my own.”

Nameless2 looks around. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” He focuses slightly and about ten feet of the air around the pair takes on a faint green tinge, and the whiff of corruption envelops them. Nameless 2 inhales and looks back at Nameless. “If only all the universe were like this. Anyway, what I want to know is what _you_ want. You’re, let's be blunt, dead. And souls, even yours, aren’t supposed to last here. So, soon enough, you’ll become one with the fabric of Xoriat and completely cease to exist. So, what do you plan to do about it? Try to get back to your world? Explore Xoriat and find a way to stay here? Something else? I’m just wondering, since it’s possible my existence is tied up with yours, and I’m not quite ready to go yet.”

Nameless considers for a second and then replies, “Well, if you are what you say you are, then I/We will be one soon enough when I transcend. My/Our friends will no doubt try to reincarnate me/us. The question is – will it be soon enough? I/We seem to be in no danger at the moment, but I’m certain that can change quickly. Still, this is a rare opportunity and I/We should explore while we are waiting.” Having spoken, Nameless attempts to imitate his companion and bend the local conditions to his will. It’s extremely difficult, but the conditions within six inches of his form do begin to change as he focuses. He realizes that he can also make himself float slowly through the void via concentration. It’s tiring and he probably couldn’t keep it up indefinitely, but he can do it for a while.

“Sure,” replies Nameless2. “I presume you’d like to see one of the daelkyr fortresses, right? After all, what good’s it going to be ending up here if you don’t actually visit one of them. I know you’re well informed about those who are imprisoned in Eberron, but there are many more here who never crossed over. Want to visit the blood fields of Chaugnar Faugn, the all-seeing eye of Cyäegha, the mountain home of Ghatanathoa, the ice citadel of Rlim Shaikorth?” 

Before Nameless can reply, he then points at the giant creature slowly floating along in the distance. “Some of the Swimmers in the Darkness are interesting too, though they aren’t much for conversation. I’d say the daelkyr would be more educational. Especially for you, since you’re as safe from them as you could be, being dead and all.”

Nameless considers the options for a moment. “I would prefer to avoid putting any supposed safety from the powers of the daelkyr to the test, but I would like to see the All-Seeing Eye. That sounds most likely to be informative.”

“Theoretically they’re all daelkyr,” says Nameless2, “Including the All-Seeing Eye, but I think you should be just fine.” He suddenly disappears, to reappear right next to Nameless, and extends a hand. “Since travel here doesn’t work as elsewhere, let’s see how well you can do it. Now hold this thought.” 

The hand touches Nameless on the forehead. It is cold and vaguely clammy to the touch, but that realization is instantly replaced by everything going momentarily black for Nameless. He finds himself looking, though he knows it’s a projected thought rather than a physical sight, at a gigantic, black globe, the front of which is a huge eye. It has an iridescent green pupil, and thin green veins run through the yellow iris that surrounds it. From the underneath of the eye, extending outwards into the darkness around it, is a field of tentacles. Things move among them, but it’s impossible to make out what they are.

Nameless’ vision clears and returns to where he was, as Nameless2 removes the hand and lowers it to rest on his shoulder. “Now – visualize that, and will us there.”

As his facsimile suggests, Nameless focuses on the image he saw and tries to mentally transport them there. For a couple of seconds, nothing happens, and the hand on his shoulder tightens slightly, as Nameless2 says quietly, “Focus and concentrate.” 

Nameless tries to do so, and suddenly, the image leaps vividly into his mind again. There’s a momentary sense of stomach-twisting dislocation, and then Nameless feels the temperature around him plunge and the air grow heavier. He opens his eyes ... and gazes into the green pupil of the All-Seeing Eye of Cyäegha.

Nameless and Nameless2 hang in the air in front of the Eye, which stretches over fifty feet in height. Above, below and around it stretch the craggy stone walls of a giant cavern, and Nameless somehow knows that they are deep within a lone mountain which forms a single layer of Xoriat. The Eye is supported by a forest of tentacles emanating from it, thin in comparison to the orb but nearly as thick as Nameless is tall. Crawling among the tentacles are dozens of creatures that look like a mixture of toad, ape and worm, with transparent bodies, their organs gleaming beneath a layer of slick, leathery skin. Some of the creatures notice the two intruders and gape upwards in bufanoid confusion.

They are not the only ones that notice. Cyäegha's pupil contracts momentarily and then a tentacle lashes upwards. Before it can hit, Nameless2 darts forward, frantically waving his arms. Nameless feels a momentary prickling in his head and realizes Nameless2 is addressing the giant creature telepathically, and then his head throbs with a loud buzzing as Cyäegha responds, tentacle still raised threateningly.

The conversation between the two continues for the better part of a minute and then the tentacle drops. The pupil expands and contracts slightly, and Nameless realizes that Cyäegha is laughing, or a vague equivalent to it. Nameless2 turns to him and Nameless hears his voice in his head, communicating far more quickly telepathically than he could via physical speech. “I’ve explained your situation. I don’t think it could actually hurt you in this form, but I didn’t want to risk it, and luckily, Cyäegha seems … well, amused, though that’s not quite the right term. Cyäegha's one of the Great Old Ones, so it’s never been to Eberron. Actually, it never leaves this cavern, but exists here forever, watching the layers of Xoriat and beyond or sleeping for centuries. Just about nothing visits here, so this is slightly diverting for it. Anyway, try not to piss it off. Cyäegha tends to be a little, well, irritable, and ...”

The communication is cut off by a steady pounding in Nameless’ head. He feels a gigantic will bent towards him, one which almost never has to deal with language and communication. Waves of hate envelop Nameless, but he realizes, partly because of his knowledge of Xoriat and partly through some sort of intellectual osmosis from his presence before it, that there is nothing personal and, strangely, not even any real emotion, to it. Cyäegha’s consciousness emanates what would count as the vilest of evil on Eberron, but it does so naturally, like a fire gives off heat or water rolls downhill, with no thought or intent but simply because that is what it is, beyond artificial laws of morality.

The pounding sensation slowly resolves itself into words. “What. Desire. You. Hu-man. ?" After a momentary pause, it adds. “See. You. Through. Eye. Do. Wish. ?”

“I … yes, I desire Knowledge and ...,” begins Nameless a trifle more hesitantly than he’d have liked, and then stops, as he remembers a scene in Yarkuun Draal: 



> The result of the change in colors on the wall becomes evident. The central black portion is now a huge pupil, twenty feet in width, while the yellow area around it forms the iris. The long wall is now spanned by a fifty-foot long eye.
> 
> Luna sniffs at the changing wall and doesn’t smell anything different about it, so she presumes there’s not actually a creature coming through it. Nevertheless, she growls at it in warning.
> 
> While she is doing so, the eye begins to shrink, giving the watchers a sense that it is due to an increase in distance. As it does, they all see that it is surrounded by a pale gray expanse of flesh, with creases in it that are as long as some of them are tall. Within seconds, the eye is half its original size, but it still stretches twenty-five feet in length.
> 
> Then it stops, and swivels slightly, seeming to notice the room and all of the adventurers. The eye focuses, and all of them have a sense of a gigantic mind focusing on you. It is not malign or inimical in any way; it is just totally and utterly alien to their conception of reality - and very mildly curious. For a moment, each of them realizes exactly what a butterfly (admittedly, a very intelligent butterfly) feels like in the seconds before an infant pulls its wings off to see what happens. The overriding emotion for them, even for Nameless and Trillia (who have studied alternate realities but never experienced it in such close proximity), is a combination of utter fascination and complete awe.
> 
> Luna shakes off the feeling and looks around to see that everyone else is standing stock-still and motionless, staring at the wall. After a couple of loud growls evince no response, she hurriedly drops a dispel magic in the area, hoping to remove whatever it is that affected her companions. The spellcasting has no visible effect, her companions still remaining spellbound.
> 
> Noticing motion on the wall, Luna looks back to see that the eye is simultaneously moving away and sliding by, as if the wall were a giant window through which the group were looking out at the creature, whatever it is. As the eye passes by, the wall’s color and texture begins to fade back to its original translucence. There is a brief vision of a gigantic bulk and waving tentacles more than a dozen feet across, and then the vision fades, leaving just the bare pinkish wall.
> 
> The rest of the group feels the fascination effect wear off suddenly and are back in control of their faculties. Trillia shakes her head and then quickly walks up to the wall to touch it. Then she looks back at Nameless and says excitedly, “Is it just me or did we just get a glimpse into Xoriat?”




“Wait!” says Nameless. “Have we met before?”

There is a pause and then words. “Not. Know. Do.” And then another a pause and then more words. “Not. Do....” A third, longer, pause follows, accompanied by almost a sense of uncertainty, as if Cyäegha were trying to grasp and communicate a concept alien to it. “...Care?” The uncertainty passes instantly and the next word is accompanied by a wave of what Nameless can only translate as vast cosmic amusement. “Knowledge?”

Cyäegha’s pupil expands suddenly, and Nameless feels the pressure inside his head increase exponentially. There is a moment of intense pain and then everything goes black for an instant. The pain and the darkness disappear just as quickly, though the feeling of great pressure does remain, and are replaced by a dizzying flood of images, which whirl by before he can focus enough to notice anything about them. It takes what seems like minutes of intense concentration before the alienist can begin to make sense of the fleeting pictures. What is most helpful in doing so is the gradual awareness that he is sharing part of the consciousness of Cyäegha, and that Cyäegha is not just running through the plethora of images concurrently but is simultaneously aware of and gazing at each of them.

Once he has worked out what is going on, Nameless is able to very slowly begin to focus on the individual scenes and cycle through them, one by one, even if only for a second or two. The majority of the scenes look out at parts of Xoriat, but many look out at the other planes of existence, including a few of the material plane and Eberron. Nameless recognizes some images – the volcanic wasteland of the Demon Wastes, the swamps of the Shadow Marches, ships sailing through an archipelago that might be the Lhazaar Principalities, even a quick look at the towers of Sharn. Intermixed with them are scenes of battle involving celestial and demonic hosts that must come from Shavarath, a gleaming crystalline forest below the brilliant sun of Irian, the endless flaming sea of Fernia. And constantly dancing through and around these images, overwhelming them in number but separate, just as the plane itself is bound away from all others in its insane dance through the outer darkness, are the infinite layers of Xoriat, myriad forms that extend far beyond the language of mortals can tell or the mind of any, even that of possibly the most powerful alienist on Eberron, can comprehend.

For Nameless, it seems as if long minutes pass, and as time flies by, he gains more and more control of what he sees. Or perhaps control is the wrong term, since the feeling of growing knowledge and power is intermixed with the sense of being carried along on an irresistible current. Eventually, Nameless realizes that – like Cyäegha – he is not just cycling through the images but able to hold more and more of them in view at once. And as he simultaneously views first a handful, then dozens, and then scores of scenes, he gradually realizes that he is not just watching multiple points across the multiverse spatially, but that he is doing so temporally. Scenes on Eberron float into existence that he knows for a fact occurred centuries ago. Nameless’ consciousness hovers over the crowning of Galifar I, drifts over a battle of the Dragon-Fiend wars, and follows the flight of an airship whose speed convinces him that it is something not yet invented on Eberron. And it does so simultaneously, while also watching the various planes. Nameless realizes that he, presumably the first of all humans to do so, is in some way experiencing what omnipresence might feel like.

The combination of exultation, power, awe and – strangely – fear, which envelops Nameless prevents him from realizing what else is going on, until it is too late. As he has been gazing out on these various scenes, the constant pressure on his consciousness has thankfully faded. Belatedly, Nameless realizes the reason, that so too is his sense of identity. Whether it be because he has been overextending himself, or because of the contact with the consciousness of Cyäegha, Nameless finds his awareness of himself _as_ himself, as the “I” that is seeing these scenes, to be steadily diminishing. It is an indescribable process, akin to what a sand castle being washed away by the advancing sea might experience if every grain of sand that it contains were conscious and inextricably linked. 

Reflexively, Nameless struggles against the inevitable dissolution, but he has all the opportunity of the aforementioned sand castle to resist the process. More and more quickly, his vision falls apart and flakes away, and with it goes his consciousness. 

Everything goes dark.


----------



## Solarious

And Nameless looses his discrete identity, like Gihaahia the Enforcer before him, and Edgar is probably close behind. Sorry guy, you'll have to be level 25+ or higher to gain something of use and grab those mad overpowered templates like Mostin did. 

In a completely unrelated note, how did the Reincarnation go?  Is he a gnome yet?


----------



## Rackhir

Solarious said:
			
		

> And Nameless looses his discrete identity, like Gihaahia the Enforcer before him, and Edgar is probably close behind. Sorry guy, you'll have to be level 25+ or higher to gain something of use and grab those mad overpowered templates like Mostin did.
> 
> In a completely unrelated note, how did the Reincarnation go?  Is he a gnome yet?





It was messy, complicated and involved the death of a number of squirels.


----------



## Vorput

Solarious said:
			
		

> And Nameless looses his discrete identity, like Gihaahia the Enforcer before him, and Edgar is probably close behind. Sorry guy, you'll have to be level 25+ or higher to gain something of use and grab those mad overpowered templates like Mostin did.
> 
> In a completely unrelated note, how did the Reincarnation go?  Is he a gnome yet?




Ahhhh Mostin...  Now there was an alienist...

Anyway, very cool description of Xoriat.  I thoroughly enjoyed it!

Maybe Nameless will be reincarnated as a giant sanity-destroying eyeball...


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> Ahhhh Mostin...  Now there was an alienist...




He is in many respect the definitive Alienist. Sep's Story Hour has probably launched a thousand alienists on the strength of how cool Mostin was. I doubt I'd be running Nameless as what he is if it wasn't for Mostin and I make no attempt to hide how he's influenced me.



			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> Maybe Nameless will be reincarnated as a giant sanity-destroying eyeball...




Well, funny you should mention Eyes...

Not to mention that Shil is fairly sanity destroying.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> And Nameless looses his discrete identity, like Gihaahia the Enforcer before him, and Edgar is probably close behind. Sorry guy, you'll have to be level 25+ or higher to gain something of use and grab those mad overpowered templates like Mostin did.




I presume the Gihaahia reference is from Sep's story hour. I can't recall it, however.



> In a completely unrelated note, how did the Reincarnation go?  Is he a gnome yet?




Only spiritually  

Actually, it went pretty well. From a particular perspective. As you'll see in a couple of days.



> Anyway, very cool description of Xoriat. I thoroughly enjoyed it!




Thanks. I stole little bits here and there from the description of Xoriat in the ECS and the Far Realm elsewhere, mingled with a lot of my own stuff. The biggest problem with describing Xoriat is that it's effectively supposed to be indescribable/inconceivable by normal human perception. As I told Rackhir recently, since Lovecraft had enough trouble with it himself, I don't feel too bad about it.



> Maybe Nameless will be reincarnated as a giant sanity-destroying eyeball...






			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> Not to mention that Shil is fairly sanity destroying.




Hey - that's what my students say!


----------



## Solarious

Rackhir said:
			
		

> It was messy, complicated and involved the death of a number of squirels.



To quote a favorite movie of mine:*

YOU.

SHOULD.

HAVE.

BOUGHT.

A.

SQUIRREL.*




			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> I presume the Gihaahia reference is from Sep's story hour. I can't recall it, however.



Mostin's interview with Gihaahia after his formation of the Academy, who says: _"I relish the rare moments in which I am permitted to manifest a body," Gihaahia said, smiling... "And a discrete consciousness," the Enforcer added, almost as an afterthought._


			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> Not to mention that Shil is fairly sanity destroying.



Pish! You are simply unable to encompass your mind around the grand plan that is shilsen. Your madness is proof of your inability to comprehend his benevolent grace that he bestows upon you. Be comforted in your lack of sanity, and tremble in fear at shilsen's terrible mercy.


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Hey - that's what my students say!



I wonder what they would say if they knew how much of a geek you are. Of course, you're an English professor, so a degree of geekness is expected, but we are talking about DnD here, the writing of a storyhour, and the subsequent posting of it. It's quite a different order of magnitude, I'm sure you'll agree.

Of course, it would even be worse if you wrote it for yourself and never showed anyone. In fact, it would be downright disturbing and cast into doubt your competency as an instructor of future generations.


			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> He is in many respect the definitive Alienist. Sep's Story Hour has probably launched a thousand alienists on the strength of how cool Mostin was. I doubt I'd be running Nameless as what he is if it wasn't for Mostin and I make no attempt to hide how he's influenced me.



Same here. I wonder exactly how many people have been affected by Sep's fabulous writing, his fabulous world/campaign creation, and his equally fabulous players. I'm a fan of Nwm, personally. Considering the number of druids present, I guess some of you guys are too. Especially considering Luna is like a Mirror Universe equivilent of Nwm.


----------



## Rackhir

Solarious said:
			
		

> To quote a favorite movie of mine:*
> 
> YOU.
> 
> SHOULD.
> 
> HAVE.
> 
> BOUGHT.
> 
> A.
> 
> SQUIRREL.*




Don't recognize it, sounds vaguely like a line from from a John Constantine story "You should have used a Cat. <Sniff>" or perhaps a line from Pratchett's Death.




			
				Solarious said:
			
		

> Pish! You are simply unable to encompass your mind around the grand plan that is shilsen. Your madness is proof of your inability to comprehend his benevolent grace that he bestows upon you. Be comforted in your lack of sanity, and tremble in fear at shilsen's terrible mercy.




The most merciful thing in the world... is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. 
H. P. Lovecraft 



			
				Solarious said:
			
		

> Same here. I wonder exactly how many people have been affected by Sep's fabulous writing, his fabulous world/campaign creation, and his equally fabulous players. I'm a fan of Nwm, personally. Considering the number of druids present, I guess some of you guys are too. Especially considering Luna is like a Mirror Universe equivilent of Nwm.




While I did send Luna's player a copy of "Nwm Anihilates an Army", she is pretty much her own creation. She was already going to play a druid before I sent it to her in any case. There is only one Luna and for that we are all grateful.

As far as Korm goes, his player is an invertibrate power gamer and druids are the most powerful core class in D&D and he's multiclassed in a number of "Interesting" ways. In fact I often tell people that a good test for if something's broken is if Korm's player either suggested it or would play it. If you want to spend a sleepless night some time, get Shil to describe the original design for Korm before he nixed a number of features.

So no, not much influence from Nwm on these lot.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Pish! You are simply unable to encompass your mind around the grand plan that is shilsen. Your madness is proof of your inability to comprehend his benevolent grace that he bestows upon you. Be comforted in your lack of sanity, and tremble in fear at shilsen's terrible mercy.




That's pretty much what the grading policy section on my syllabi says 



> I wonder what they would say if they knew how much of a geek you are. Of course, you're an English professor, so a degree of geekness is expected, but we are talking about DnD here, the writing of a storyhour, and the subsequent posting of it. It's quite a different order of magnitude, I'm sure you'll agree.




Actually, my students know exactly how much of a geek I am. When I introduce myself on the first day and tell them a little about myself, I mention that I'm a card-carrying geek whose idea of interacting with society is running a D&D game. And if that doesn't convince them, I actually carry my D&D dice in my briefcase and use it in class when I am randomly picking students for certain things. Incidentally, the students seem to love the various dice and argue with each other for the right to roll. 

I am Geek. Hear me roar!



> Same here. I wonder exactly how many people have been affected by Sep's fabulous writing, his fabulous world/campaign creation, and his equally fabulous players. I'm a fan of Nwm, personally. Considering the number of druids present, I guess some of you guys are too. Especially considering Luna is like a Mirror Universe equivilent of Nwm.




As Rackhir mentioned above, interestingly enough Nwm has absolutely no effect on the druids in this game. But Mostin makes up for it by living with us in Nameless. Speaking of whom...

* * * * * * * * * *
*The Return of Nameless*

Having searched the rooms around the central area, the Angels discuss what they should do next. Korm mentions uneasily that he is not feeling particularly well, and Luna says the same. “This entire place must be tainted by whatever diseases he had,” says the Gatekeeper, pointing at Cainan’s corpse, “And whatever he was culturing in those boxes and jars. We need to destroy them.”

“But,” protests Gareth, “They’re quite valuable. These are Dhakaani, right?” Luna nods.

“Probably,” shrugs Korm, beginning to collect the various items, “But it doesn’t matter. They will retain the taint. We need to destroy them all.”

One of the group’s regular arguments occurs, with Gareth wishing to clean out the various receptacles, and maybe even take some samples of the contents to show the Archierophant, with some support from Luna, while Korm is equally adamant that absolutely nothing should be removed from these chambers, with support from Six. 

“Come on, Gareth!” says Korm, exasperated. “This bastard already created a plague and he’s got better at it, according to those notes and scrawlings. If we carry them with us, we run the risk of infecting Sharn all over again.”

“Well,” begins Luna a trifle grumpily, “There _are_ a lot of people in the city…,” causing Six to emit a metallic laugh. “This is why people say you are insane, Luna.”

Korm ignores her and continues, “Seriously, Gareth – what are you thinking? You’ve been trained to know about mundane and magical diseases, right?” Gareth says nothing to the mostly rhetorical question and then mutters, “Not really.”

“Come again?”

“I haven’t actually been _trained_ regarding diseases.”

“Aargh!” Korm slaps his forehead in exasperation. “You and your damn home schooling!” He points at Luna. “Come on – at least you know better. Admit it. Wouldn’t we be very likely to infect the city? Even if we _remove disease_, carrying those jars and things, even without their contents, would very likely do so. Right?” Luna scowls but finally mutters an agreement.

“See? Then it’s settled.” Korm spends the next few minutes throwing all of the jars into one of the now-empty pools, with Six’s aid. Having done so, he collects the two magical nodules from Gareth – after another, thankfully shorter, argument – and crushes them and throws the pieces in. Then he turns and looks at the four individuals, the pair each of humans and bugbears, who are still alive. “We need to dispose of them too.”

“We can take them back to the Archierophant and see if she can help them,” suggests Gareth, leaving Korm shaking his head. “What part of disease … carry … infect … plague … double plus ungood … do you _not_ get, Gareth?” he asks. Then he walks over and points to one of the bugbears, who hangs, unconscious and unaware of everything that has occurred around him, in his cocoon. “Look at this.”

The glutinous strands of the thick webbing that forms the cocoon have extended into the flesh of the bugbear within it, Wherever they enter and emerge, the flesh around them has turned soft and green, ranging in texture from that of soft, rotten meat to a jellylike consistency which matches that found on many of the Angels’ late opponents. “And who knows how far it’s gone?” continues Korm, indicating the bottom half of the creature, which is completely hidden within the lower, thicker, part of the cocoon. “It’s too late for them. All we can do is release them from this torment – and do so before they awake into it.” 

None of the others have any real argument, as Korm draws his sword. He waits for a moment and then swiftly decapitates the bugbear. The body twitches for a moment, a mixture of blood mixed with slime gushing from the stump of its neck, and then falls quiescent. One by one, Korm does the same to the others. 

Then, with the others, he removes the cocoons, discovering that he was right about the process being further advanced in the hidden sections of their bodies, some of the creatures’ extremities having been partly through the process of being turned into tentacles. The Angels place the corpses in the pool along with the other items, and then  Korm douses everything within liberally with oil, before he and Luna _flame strike_ them repeatedly and incinerate everything. “Good.” Korm says, “We’re going to have to stay here till tomorrow, when we can all have a _remove disease_ cast on us, and then head back.” 

The night passes uneventfully, and next morning, the Angels leave the caves. Once they are outside, Luna summons a pair of large earth elementals and instructs them to carefully collapse the entire area within. As the elementals rumble their agreement and begin to move off, Six says, “Umm – you’d better tell them to be careful to just fill in those tunnels and not damage the cliffs. After all…..” He points upwards at the top of the cliff thousands of feet above, where the towers of Sharn stand. Luna hurriedly calls the elementals back and adds some instructions.

Having ensured that they will not run any risk of collapsing part of Sharn, the Angels proceed back to the Gray House, stopping only to accept the fervent thanks of the indigents that live around the Mud Caves.

* * * * * *
A few hours later, the Angels are gathered around Nameless’ corpse, carefully laid out in the chamber they have set aside for spellcasting in the Gray House. Next to it lie a collection of rare and costly components, mingled with moss, leaves and branches to form a roughly humanoid shape a foot long. 

“All right,” says Luna, with an expression of slightly unhealthy anticipation. “Let’s do this.” As she is about to begin casting the dweomer, Korm interrupts. “Umm, actually, I should be the one casting it.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Well, Nameless did say that he’d rather I be the one to try and _reincarnate_ him if he was killed, remember?”

“What? I don’t remember that! And even if he did, we’ve said lots of things at different times.”

Six reaches into one of his many pouches and pulls out a scroll. He unrolls and looks at it, and then says, “Korm’s right. Nameless did say that. I noted down what everyone said at various points, and even got everyone to sign it to ensure they were certain about it.”

“What?!” Luna jumps up and grabs the scroll from Six, partly tearing it in the process. “I never signed this crap!”

“True, but that’s because when I asked you to do so, you told me I’m crazy if I think anything will ever be able to kill you.”

“Which is true!”

“I wouldn’t be that sure,” says Gareth, who’s been grinning from ear to ear at the exchange. “You get beat down a lot!”

“That’s because I’m trying to save all your asses!” Luna’s attention snaps back to the scroll, which she waves around wildly. “This is just stupid. Why would Nameless want Korm to cast the spell?”

Korm, who’s also grinning broadly by this point, says, “Maybe he thinks you’re a little … unreliable?” He points, and this time there’s a little edge to the smile. “You do wear those symbionts, which doesn’t say much for your judgment.”

“Symbionts? Nameless eats freaking tentacles! What the hell’s wrong with my symbionts?!” Before Korm can reply, Luna continues with her rant, no longer addressing anyone else, seemingly rather shouting at the missing soul of Nameless and his, to her, horribly misplaced taste in druids. “Why Korm? It’s not as if he’s a better spellcaster than me. And I beat his ass in the arena!”

“What does that have to do with casting _reincarnate_?” asks Six.

“Nothing! But I’m just saying!” Luna throws down the scroll in disgust, stalks over to the wall and kicks an unoffending desk halfway across the room. “Fine! You morons can do what you want! I’ll sit here and be useless and save you all if something goes wrong.” She wildshapes into a bear and sits down with a growl.

The other Angels, fighting to keep from rolling over with laughter, sit down too. Korm prepares himself and begins to cast the spell. Throughout the spellcasting, Luna mutters to herself under her breath and sighs loudly, once in a while gesturing at the scene before her. Since the muttering and sighing is from an 8,000 lb bear, it’s significantly distracting, but Korm ignores it, focusing on the task at hand. As he goes through the various gestures and incantations, over the course of the next ten minutes, the pile of vegetation begins to expand and take on a roughly humanoid shape, stretching till its over six feet long. Part detaches and forms into what seems to be a tail, another three feet in length. Slowly, skin begins to form over the surface. At the same time, Nameless’ corpse begins to fall in on itself and decay, gradually forming an unrecognizable and steadily shrinking mass.

“Six,” Gareth says quietly, “Those are scales, right? Are you thinking what I am?”

“Yes,” agrees Six. “Definitely scales. I think he is coming back as a lizardman.”

Luna grunts and makes an expressive series of gesture, which indicates that nothing like this would have happened if they had allowed her to cast the spell, that Nameless is an idiot, and that there are certain issues with Korm’s parentage.

Finally, Korm ends the spell. As he does so, with a wordless sighing of air, the last fragments of Nameless’ original form fade away into nothingness. Next to the space they occupied now lies the complete form of a lizardman, clawed hands interlaced over his broadly muscled chest, a thick tail stretching away to the left. As Korm pronounces the last syllable and makes the final gesture, the lizardman’s chest rises with an indrawn breath. A second later, his eyes open and look into those of Luna, who, despite her irritation, has risen and lumbered forward to look down at it. As a look of confusion swims into his eyes, Luna wonders to herself how Nameless will adapt to this new body and what his reaction will be.

The answer is instantly forthcoming. The lizardman opens his mouth, screams, and then arches his back, convulsing and thrashing as if in excruciating pain. Splits appear in the skin all across his body and blood streams out, as he rolls back and forth. 

* * * * * *
Nameless opens his eyes, but all he sees is darkness. Everything around him is pitch-black, and he realizes that something surrounds him. He feels something warm and slick in contact with every inch of his body, but cannot see what it is. More importantly, whatever it is happens to also be pressed tight against his mouth and nostrils, allowing him to space to breathe. Reflexively, the alienist opens his mouth to try and _teleport_ himself away, and a lump of what feels like meat, covered in what is certainly blood, slides into his mouth, filling it completely. Nameless begins to choke and suffocate at once, his body thrashing in a desperate attempt to break free.

* * * * * *
While the other Angels, surprised and horrified, try to rise and rush forward, Luna quickly leans over and extends a huge paw to both try and hold the lizardman down and cast a healing spell. Her eyes look into his for a moment, as they bulge in pained terror from their sockets. And then they hit her. As they, and the rest of his face, leap off his body, as does the rest of his skin, and everything underneath it. Flesh, blood, bones and viscera spray across the room as the lizardman explodes.

And emerging from within the body is the naked, bloodied form of Nameless, convulsing as the lizardman had. His eyes, still bearing the blue glow of the permanencied _arcane sight_ roll back and forth at his shocked friends, and, after dragging in a breath, he sits up. 

Once their first surprise has passed, the rest of the Angels note that not everything is the same about the alienist. The skin of his chest rises in multiple places into greenish-yellow protuberances, each about two inches tall and an inch thick, forming a roughly shaped ring that stretches nearly a foot in length and half that in width. A bigger change lies at the end of his left arm. Nameless’ entire forearm is missing. Instead, starting just above the now missing elbow, there grows a flexible tentacle, approximately as long as his forearm had been. It is flat and has a clear top and bottom, the former a bright green, with darker shades forming whorls and patterns on it, while the underside is a much lighter gray. A row of thick suckers runs up the middle of the underside, and as the tentacle flexes, almost as if it had a life of its own, the suckers open and close with a soft, but nauseatingly, slurping sound.

Noticing the change, Nameless looks down at the arm and raises it. Though it takes a couple of seconds, he quickly finds himself able to control the movements of the prehensile limb. A pleased smile crosses his face. The rest of his companions, however, are not smiling. “Are you okay?” asks Korm. Luna, quickly having changed back to shifter form, interrupts. “You!” she says, pointing accusingly at the Gatekeeper, “This is all your fault! You brought him back wrong!”

Before Korm can respond, she turns to Nameless. “And you! You know how reliable I am, but would you let me _reincarnate_ you?” She shakes her head violently and puts on a strange, squeaky voice, “Nooooo! You just had to have your girlfriend Korm bring you back! And now you’re all screwed up! Bah!”

Nameless stares at her and then says, “What the hell are you talking about? And I’m not screwed up, thank you.” He looks at his tentacle and smiles again. “I feel a little weak, but that’s to be expected. I’m fine. Better than fine.”

After giving Nameless a blanket to wrap around himself and getting him to a seat, the others quickly begin to ask questions about what happened. “How was Dolurrh?” asks Korm. “I’ve heard it’s extremely depressing.”

“No clue,” says Nameless, with a proud smirk. “I never went there.”

“Huh? Where’d you go?”

“Xoriat.”

“Come again? Nobody can get to Xoriat. And definitely not when they’re dead.”

“That’s true. For most people.”

“O-kay. What did you see there?”

“I don’t think I could put it into words you, any of you, will understand,” says Nameless dismissively. “It’s a little beyond your reality. And utterly fascinating!” As he is speaking, Nameless looks down at himself and his _arcane sight_ picks up an aura that he never had on him before. It is right in the middle of his chest, and actually emanates from deep within him. “That’s odd,” he mutters, touching the spot.

“What?” says Gareth, looking at the same spot. As he does so, he feels a gentle warmth within himself and suddenly realizes that his ability to _detect evil_ has returned to him – and switched on, even though he wasn’t trying to. And he _detect_s a moderate evil aura from the area in the center of Nameless’ chest, though not from the alienist himself. Gareth points accusingly. “That’s evil.”

“Nameless?” asks Korm, surprised.

“No, not Nameless,” says Gareth, just a little reluctantly, “That spot in the middle of his chest.”

“It’s nice to see your blinkered, short-sighted, narrow-minded outlook on things hasn’t changed, Gareth,” says Nameless sweetly. “I don’t know – or care – about that, but it’s a strong magical aura. Conjuration. I’ll check what it is when I can cast an _analyze dweomer_.”

“I’d say that I could try to _dispel_ it,” says the still grousing Luna, half to herself, “But he probably just wants _Korm_ to do it.”

“Oh, come on!” says Korm, smacking his head, “Just let it go, Luna!”

“What’s going on between you two?” asks Nameless, but Six interrupts. “Excuse me. I’m not a spellcaster like you folks, but I did see Luna _reincarnate_ Saala in the Marches. I don’t think these should still be here, right?”

The others look where he is pointing and see, right where the lizardman’s body – and then Nameless – had appeared, a collection of objects sitting on the floor. They are the various oils, unguents and other material components that had been used for the _reincarnate_ spell. Or should have been used. Korm walks over and confirms what the Angels can already see. All of the components are completely intact, only slightly more scattered than they’d originally been, as if they had never been used at all. “Okay,” he says quietly, “So we _reincarnate_d Nameless to bring him back from the dead, but didn’t actually use the spell to do so? This can’t be good.”

Luna, who has headed to the door, turns around and says triumphantly, “Of course! That’s because _you_ cast the damn spell!”


----------



## Vorput

::blinks::

Well...  This seems like all sorts of bad.  

"That is not dead which can eternal lie
And with strange aeons even death may die."


----------



## Sidekick

Okaaaaay – if I were in that group I’d be looking to distance myself from the freaky not-nameless person thingie that is in front of me.

He’s got an evil tattoo and a tentacle for a left arm. 

I suppose Nameless could retire and become a public health speaker “See kid’s this is what happens when you don’t eat well or listen to your mother. And don't EVER eat tentacles...

Which remind’s me – don’t do crack!”


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> ::blinks::
> 
> Well...  This seems like all sorts of bad.






			
				Sidekick said:
			
		

> Okaaaaay – if I were in that group I’d be looking to distance myself from the freaky not-nameless person thingie that is in front of me.
> 
> He’s got an evil tattoo and a tentacle for a left arm.










*I Find Your Lack of Faith Disturbing*


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> ::blinks::
> 
> Well...  This seems like all sorts of bad.




You guys are soooo suspicious! He died, went to Xoriat, came back, and the group still has material components for an extra _Reincarnate_. What could be bad about that?



			
				Sidekick said:
			
		

> Okaaaaay – if I were in that group I’d be looking to distance myself from the freaky not-nameless person thingie that is in front of me.
> 
> He’s got an evil tattoo and a tentacle for a left arm.




I think the bit that made it certain for the group that it was Nameless was how gleeful he was about his new tentacle, and dismissive about their ability to comprehend where he'd been. 

And it's not a tattoo. The magical & evil aura is from _inside_ his chest. You'll see a little more info about that in the next update, which I hope to have up this weekend.



> I suppose Nameless could retire and become a public health speaker “See kid’s this is what happens when you don’t eat well or listen to your mother. And don't EVER eat tentacles...
> 
> Which remind’s me – don’t do crack!”


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

Awww, isn't that cute?  Nameless is harboring a psychotic Xoriat entity in his chest.  I hope the gestation goes well!

Speaking of entities from Xoriat, what would we call them?  Xoriaters?  Xoriatans?  Xoriatians?  Xoriatonians?


----------



## Vorput

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Speaking of entities from Xoriat, what would we call them?  Xoriaters?  Xoriatans?  Xoriatians?  Xoriatonians?




Those who know do not speak;
Those who speak do not know.


----------



## Furby076

Vorput said:
			
		

> Those who know do not speak;
> Those who speak do not know.





West Wing - Toby Zeigler
He was quoting someone else, dont know who.


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:
			
		

> West Wing - Toby Zeigler
> He was quoting someone else, dont know who.



 From the Tao te Ching, by Lao Tzu, I believe.


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:
			
		

> From the Tao te Ching, by Lao Tzu, I believe.




Something like that... I can't remember.


----------



## Sidekick

<smacks into thread> OWWW WTF?

What are you doing down there? <places thread at top of page so to avoid bumping into it again>

alright nothing to see here










Except a Bump

FOR JUSTICE (and me)


----------



## Sidekick

Shil? you okay. I've tried you on your cell, your pager at your mamma's place.

bump?


As for what to call entities from Xoriat. I've alwasy gone with Flargn rise crispies, milk tastes like screaming phtang Flargle, gfoozle capgras bow chicka wow wow Vrooom!


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Shil? you okay. I've tried you on your cell, your pager at your mamma's place.
> 
> bump?




The joys of designing midterms and grading have kept me occupied. But, to make up for it, a little longer than usual an update, with both more info on Nameless and an interesting situation at the end.


* * * * * * * * * * *
Even as Luna is about to leave, Nameless sniffs the air, wrinkling his nose. “You guys stink!” 

“Huh?” Luna stops and sniffs herself, while the others look at each other. “All of us?”

“Yes,” says Nameless, after checking. “Including Six.”

“Something’s probably wrong with you after being to Xoriat at all,” says Korm.

“Yes,” says Gareth. “Like the fact that he has an evil magical aura in his chest?” 

Nameless ignores him and continues to study his companions curiously. “And you all sound a little … purple.”

“We _sound_ purple? What does that even mean?”

“Yes. And I can’t really explain it to you. Mortal language is a little deficient in this regard.”

“Sure, whatever,” says Luna. “Anyway, I’m going. I’m hungry. You guys coming?” 

While Nameless dresses, the others follow her, talking among themselves about what just happened. The alienist quickly joins them, wearing slightly longer sleeves than usual to keep the tentacle mostly covered, and then takes one of the group’s _hat_s _of disguise_ to make it look like a normal arm and hand. 

Fett joins them as well, and while he’s relieved to see Nameless back, admits that he’s slightly uneasy about the other things that have happened to the alienist. During the meal, he informs the Angels about the details of the ‘ambush’ they had asked him to set up. He’s found a small band of Brelish ex-military turned not very successful mercenaries and criminals, who jumped at the idea of the Boromar bounty. He fed them the story that the other Angels would be away while the two druids would be performing a ceremony in Carosten Park three days later. The Angels discuss a few plans for the day and what they need to do to set the situation up properly.

The Angels also make a couple of less pleasant discoveries during the meal. Nameless finds that his sense of smell is similarly offended by the food on the table, and is eventually drawn to a rare appetizing whiff from the kitchen. There, he finds it to come from some rotten meat that Fett had set aside to be thrown out. Nameless’ mouth waters at the odor from it, and a little piece tastes quite scrumptious. He quickly checks and finds that some of the preserved tentacles and other strange meats that he has harvested during the group’s various adventures still taste fine to him. But anything else that isn’t well on the way to turning putrid is singularly unappetizing to the alienist.

In order to be able to eat a meal, Nameless has to use a _prestidigitation_ to give the flavor of putrescence to his food. As he casts the spell, he feels it twist and change slightly, attempting to manifest randomly but being restrained from doing so by only his level of arcane mastery. He quickly realizes what is happening, and casts another minor spell to check, with the same effect, though he forces it to have the result he desires. “Hmm – that’s strange.”

“What?” asks Gareth, a hand coincidentally resting not too far from the hilt of the Endless Blade.

“My spells seemed to be affected by the wild magic trait. It’s common to Xoriat.”

“You know, we really need to check out what else is different about you.”

After the meal, the Angels run through a series of tests. One of the things they discover is that Nameless himself does not count as evil in alignment, being unaffected by a _smite_ from Gareth or any spells that only affect evil creatures. He is, however, _detect_ing strongly as an aberration, and is damaged by spells that only target them. And he is no longer affected by magic that targets only humans and other humanoids. Not too surprisingly, most of these discoveries quite please Nameless, only serving to convince him that he’s a few steps closer to advancing to a different level of being. For the first time ever, he is also slightly pleased by Gareth’s ability to _detect thoughts_, since the latter uses it to check and finds no more minds in the area than those of the Angels.

Afterwards, Nameless leaves to visit Trillia, walking instead of _teleport_ing to avoid any mishaps due to the wild magic affecting his spells. Gareth leaves at the same time, planning to speak to a few other people about what has occurred.

* * * 

“This is fascinating!” says Trillia, once Nameless explains some of what has happened. She shakes her head and laughs. “I told you there was something unusual about you, but this is really a bit much. _Nobody_ that I know of has managed to reach Xoriat since the Gatekeepers sundered it from Eberron. I can see that you’re going to have to be teaching me a few things now.”

Nameless grins. “As I’d told you, I’ll share whatever I learn with you. Though, in view of some of the things I’ve seen, you might want to think a little about going any further down this path.”

“Why not?”

“Let me tell you a little of what I saw.” Nameless proceeds to describe everything that occurred to him, or most of everything, since he does not mention anything about the daelkyr ‘footprint’ in his head, which he has never told even Trillia about.

* * *

Simultaneously, across town, Gareth is sitting across the table from a marginally less amused woman. Even though he has just explained everything about the plague and Cainan, her focus seems to be completely on Nameless and his return from the dead.

“WHAT?!”

“That’s all right,” says Gareth quickly. “I don’t think there’s any reason to be worried about Nameless. I trust him.” _I wish the rest of them could hear me now._

“Why?”

“I think Nameless is generally trustworthy, though this interests and beliefs are a little strange.”

Ythana Morr looks at Gareth silently for a moment and then says, her tone as dry as sandpaper. “So you trust him because … you trust him?”

“No, that’s not all. I’ve had a good deal of experience with him, and Nameless dislikes having anything – even things from Xoriat – controlling him, so I seriously doubt he would want or allow it to do so.” After a moment’s thought, Gareth adds, “And he is not evil. Which I can now _detect_, by the way.” _See – I told you I was a paladin!_

The Archierophant ignores that particular piece of information. “You are certain he is not evil?”

“Yes. His heart is, but he isn’t.”

There is a chilly silence for a few seconds. “Would you care to explain that?”

“Well, not his heart. He came back with a magical aura in the center of his chest that he said has a strong aura of conjuration. I found it to have a moderate evil aura. But Nameless doesn’t.”

“I see. Is there anything else that has changed besides that tentacle you mentioned?”

“Oh, yes – he’s an aberration now.”

Ythana’s pause is a few seconds longer this time. “He’s an aberration?”

“Well, he detects as such to any magic that affects aberrations. And he’s not affected by any magic that affects humans.”

Ythana sighs. “All right. Let me see if I have everything correct. Nameless was slain, returned from the dead but you’re not sure the spell that brought him back was even cast properly, said that he had been to Xoriat, which has been sundered from our world for millennia, now has a tentacle, has an evil and magical area in his chest, is no longer human and has become an aberration. And there’s nothing for me to worry about. Correct?”

“Umm … yes.”

* * *

Half an hour later, Gareth is sitting across a table from Cedric, a pained expression on his face. “And that’s what she said. It didn’t go that well.”

Cedric shrugs and then slides over a brimming glass. “I’m not surprised. Were you?”

“Not surprised, but I’d have liked her to trust my judgement a bit more.” As Cedric chuckles, Gareth – who is slowly developing more of an appreciation for alcohol – takes a sip and eyes him curiously. “So what do you think?”

“Frankly, I don’t have that much to go on, do I? So let me ask you a question – do you think Nameless is a danger to those around him or Sharn in general?”

Gareth muses for a bit. “No. Like I told the Archierophant, I really don’t think so. He could be a danger if he was mind-controlled by some daelkyr or other entity from Xoriat, which is what I first feared when he returned and I _detect_ed something evil in his chest. I told you I can _detect evil_ again, right?”

“Yes,” says Cedric with a grin. “Twice. And now thrice. Right, Blade?”

“Wh-uh?” says the Endless Blade, sounding sleepy. “Oh, you’re listening to him? I’ve got no ing clue!”  

“Quiet, you!” says Gareth with a slightly embarrassed grin, and then continues, “Anyway, like I was saying, Nameless has serious issues – understandably – with something controlling him, and I think he’d rather die than let it happen to him.”

“Okay.” Cedric thinks – and drinks – silently for a few seconds, and then says, “Well, here’s what I think, and you can tell Nameless that from me. Tell him I trust him to not do anything silly and if I can help in any way to deal with this problem he has, I’ll be glad to do so. And if he goes crazy at some point and starts hurting and killing people, I’ll take him down. I’ll try to do so without killing him, and would be sorry if I had to, but I would do it. Is that fair enough?”

* * *

On the way back from meeting Cedric, Gareth stops off at Lalia’s and joins her for dinner. Unsurprisingly, she too is very interested to hear about what happened with Nameless, and the two spend a lot of time discussing it. In a way, Gareth is thankful to have the subject at hand, since there is, even now, some degree of tension between him and Lalia, as has existed since the proposal. Nevertheless, things are improving, and by the end of the evening, they are laughing and joking as they did earlier.


* * * * * *

Over the course of the next two days, the Angels spend some time trying to find out as much as they can about the situation with Nameless. Something that they are also investigating is the issue of Calderus, the name they encountered in the lair of the mad and diseased druid Cainan. Nameless actually gives them a lead, having recognized the name – though he has no idea where the recognition comes from – as that of one of the mindflayer generals of the armies from Xoriat that invaded Eberron seven millennia ago. 

Nameless begins by using some of his own magic, which gradually loses the wild magic trait that threatens to twist it every time he uses a spell. He uses an _analyze dweomer_ on the aura within his chest, and though it does not reveal precisely what it is, he learns that it is specifically a conjuration effect belonging to the calling subschool, that it is at least as powerful as the eighth valence, and that it is somehow quiescent, as if waiting for a trigger to activate or release it. For once, everyone agrees with Gareth that it does not sound positive.

Afterwards, the Angels visit a number of places, checking on Calderus. They stop at the Morgrave University library and then visit Flamewind. Unfortunately, the library contains nothing on Calderus, and Flamewind admits that her personal knowledge outside the visions is almost exclusively about Xen’drik. She promises to let the Angels know if anything relevant occurs to her, but suggests they don’t count on it.

“Any other ideas?” asks Luna, afterwards.

“I was thinking of one possibility. Cainan’s notes mentioned meeting this Calderus in the depths of Sharn, right? We do know one group of people … well, creatures … who live in the depths.”

“Ah!” says Nameless, beginning to grin as he sees the frown on Gareth’s face. “You mean the…”

* * *

… vampires. Eight vampires sit or stand casually around the well-furnished, if somewhat old-fashioned, room that the Angels find themselves in, for the first time since they first saw it four months ago. The tall (formerly) human woman named Mina who leads them sits across from the Angels, listening intently. 

“Calderus?” she asks finally. “What made you think of asking us? Not that I’m complaining, mind you.” She smiles, probably unintentionally, toothily. “It’s not like we get visitors, so it’s definitely an interesting change.” Mina looks at the bodies neatly piled in the corner. “And you brought almost-fresh drinks!”

Nameless smiles. “No thanks are necessary. They’re members of one of the sewer gangs, who made the mistake of attacking us on the way. I thought you might be able to make more use of them than we can. And Six suggested that since you are the only people living in the depths that we know of, and presumably have good information about this area, you would be the ones to ask.”

“We will. But excuse me for a moment, will you?”

“Certainly.”

Mina rises gracefully, beckons to the elderly male vampire who seems to be her second in command, and walks into the next room and shuts the door. The Angels exchange curious glances, but there are no signs of danger or indication from the remaining vampires that anything is amiss. The two vampires return soon and Mina retakes her seat.

She smiles and says, “You have come to the right place. I just thought it was an interesting coincidence that you should come to a group of vampires to ask about Calderus since …”

“Ah,” says Nameless, “She is a vampire too!”

“But mindflayers cannot be vampires,” corrects Gareth.

“And people can’t take the trip I just took,” says Nameless. “What’s your point?”

Mina smiles at Gareth. “Correct. Nevertheless, your friend is correct. Calderus is a vampire. And she is a mindflayer.”

“Really?” _Fascinating!_ “So you know her?”

“In a manner of speaking. We have no real contact with her, and I don’t think any of us has spoken to her in the last fifty years.” Mina looks at the elderly elf and he nods. “But we know she has at least one lair in the depths, though we don’t know precisely where it is. She’s been here for centuries, maybe thousands of years. As far as I know, she’s a bit of a philosopher, actually.”

“So you don’t think she’s a danger to Sharn? I’m just asking because of this whole Cainan thing.”

“I doubt it. She’s very well informed about the depths, obviously, and there have always been rumors that there are strange creatures and diseases, perhaps even remnants of the works of the Lady of the Plague down here. Maybe she found this Cainan and shared some of that with him. Why she released him with that information, I don’t know, but I can’t see her wanting to let loose a plague in Sharn.”

“Could he have escaped? Cainan apparently thought he did, but he wasn’t all there.”

“Maybe he escaped, but I doubt it. Anyway, what I’m fairly certain of, is that there’s no danger from her to Sharn.”

“All right. You know better than us, so I’ll take your word for it.”

“Good. If we learn something about the subject, I’ll let you know.” Mina lounges into a more comfortable position. “So tell me, what else is happening up there? We haven’t been above ground in a few weeks, so a little news and gossip would be nice. What have you been up to?”

“We bought a house,” says Six, and Gareth adds, “The Gray House. We believe there were vampires there earlier.” 

“Bah! Members of the Emerald Claw! Those cretins give us a bad name. And yes, I’ve heard of the place. Maybe I’ll stop by some time.”

“Certainly,” says Nameless. “You’re welcome any time.”

Having extended their hospitality to a group of vampires, the Angels spend some more time chatting with them about their recent actions. Mina and the others are very interested in just about anything to do with Sharn, and are reduced to hysterical laughter at the description of Luna’s antics at the Tain Gala. While they talk, Nameless notes that he can again hear the faintest strains of a wild, manic piping, which has often been hovering at the edge of his consciousness since he was brought back. Having earlier discovered that trying to focus on it leads to a mildly hypnotic effect and a lack of focus, he ignores it, and it eventually fades away.


* * * * * *

Over the course of the two days, the Angels make plans for the ambush on those that Fett has inveigled into going after the bounty on them. The final decision is that Luna and Korm will be in Carosten Park near the Gatehouse that Surr’kal lives in, purportedly to perform a druidic ritual, while the others will _teleport_ into the building behind them and wait. 

In order to avoid any unnecessary complications, the Angels inform Balan what they are going to be doing. He promises that he’ll ensure the City Watch is nowhere near Carosten Park, and asks them to avoid doing any structural damage to the place and to protect any non-combatants in the area, as there will be many. The Angels also tell Flim Turen that something interesting will be happening and give him the time, but tell him the location will be the adjoining park, so that he doesn’t spoil their ambush by showing up and trying to speak to them. They also inform Surr’kal what they are planning, and he says that he’ll make sure to be down in Northedge giving Teln some company at that time. 

For once, everything goes according to plan. Around noon of the 18th, Luna and Korm are going through the motions of a druidic ritual, when four warforged, step through the rough ring of bushes and trees approximately sixty feet from the Gatehouse, which separate it from the rest of the park, where the public of Sharn walk about. As the warforged advance, all in heavy plating and wielding two-handed weapons, a pair of _invisible_ attackers appear as they cast spells. The _dispel magic_ cast by the dwarf in half-plate, holding a symbol of Kol Korran, sovereign deity of wealth and trade and greed, is absorbed by Korm’s ring, but the human arcanist appearing near him successfully _haste_s his allies. The warforged charge in, swarming around Korm, the closest target, and land a couple of painful blows. And that is the last bit of good luck the unfortunate attackers have, as the other three Angels come rushing out of the Gatehouse.

The four warforged are strong and skilled, veterans of the Last War, each having drunk a couple of potions to strengthen and fortify them. They last all of ten seconds, as a whirlwind of blade, chain and spells envelops them. The dwarven priest near him has even bigger problems, as Nameless _summon_s something he figures is particularly apt for the situation and the aim of making people around Sharn seriously reconsider attacking the Angels. An amorphous shape flows out of thin air beside the dwarf, constantly shifting through a dozen chaotic shapes before it forms itself into a bulbous thing with ten eyes swimming in a viscous sac at the top of a shapeless body surrounded by dozens of constantly smacking mouths. The chaos beast leers up at the horrified dwarf and reaches up to sink a claw into his side. Instantly, his body flows, writhes and melts into a spongy amorphous mass. 

The wizard, staring around in horror as his allies drop, shouts, “It’s an ambush! Run!” and desperately begins to cast a spell to _summon_ some more allies. Three wolves begin to form between him and the Angels, eyes gleaming with fiendish light. Unfortunately for the poor caster, he misses the similar gleam in Nameless’ eyes as soon as he begins casting. As the wizard turns to flee, Nameless speaks a single, mind-twisting word in the language of the daelkyr. Incorporeal black tentacles burst out of the wolves, which scream and thrash around momentarily, and then turn to face Nameless. “Go on,” he says, “Get him.” With loud howls, the wolves turn and charge. Their summoner has a few seconds of confused, screaming terror before he disappears under them.

Korm, having dispatched the unfortunate dwarf, who had managed to recover his form just in time to meet the Gatekeeper’s sword, steps warily away from the chaos beast and says, “How the hell did you do that?”

Nameless smirks. “I made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.”

Now that the fight, brief as it was, is over, Gareth steps forward to address the surprised audience that has witnessed it. Many of the citizens who had been strolling around the park had fled, shouting and screaming in alarm, when the battle began, but some of them are watching fearfully from a distance. Gareth raises his arms and calls loudly, “Citizens of Sharn – do not fear! We are the Guardian Angels. We were attacked by evil and foolish men, and they have been punished for it. You are safe. Do not be concerned.”

The speech seems to work, since the cries of alarm cease, and a few of the more curious or foolhardy come a little closer. Having made their scene, the Angels collect the bodies outside the Gatehouse and discuss what to do next and when Flim will hear of the trouble and arrive. Then, a slightly nervous-sounding shout interrupts them. “What’s going on? Who’s in charge here?”

Four men are advancing towards the group, garbed in chainmail and carrying halberds that they keep pointed at the Angels. Recognizing their uniform, Nameless says to the others, “Members of the Royal Guard. They’re not the Watch. I’ll explain.” He walks over, with both hands – one of which is actually the tentacle under a magical disguise – lifted to show that he bears no weapons. 

“Don’t worry,” Nameless explains to the leader of the Guardsmen. “We are the Guardian Angels. You’ve probably heard of us.” He gestures at the corpses and his companions. “We were attacked by some miscreants but disposed of them.” Remembering their plan, Nameless announces loudly, “We should thank Saidan Boromar, who informed us of this attack. He has been _very_ helpful.” 

The man Nameless is addressing looks a little confused, and begins to say, “We have heard of you. But you say you were told of this by…,” when he stops and says, “What the hell?!” Looking back, Nameless sees Luna, who has decided this is going to get boring quick, transforming into an eagle and flying off. “Don’t worry,” he says. “My companion’s a druid. She’s just going back to our home. I assure you…”

As he is speaking, Nameless is interrupted in turn, this time by a loud shout. A voice yells, “Now! Now!” Turning, Nameless sees a quickly advancing collection of multiple magical auras, evidently on an _invisible_ person, who has rushed around a nearby tree. About a hundred feet further away, another voice strikes up a magical chant, evidently coming from another _invisible_ collection of auras. Three more such collections fly into view at the limits of Nameless’ _arcane sight_, 120 feet away and advancing. Three visible figures round out the new arrivals, speeding into sight on the backs of their fastieth dinosaurs. The riders are halflings, each in traditional Talenta garb, wearing a hunt mask and wielding a gleaming tangat. 

_!_ “Ambush!” yells Nameless, quickly rising into the air.

“What? Another one?” The Angels grab at weapons, even as the unexpected enemies rush in. To add to their surprise, the four Royal Guards pull out tanglefoot bags and hurl them, before rushing in as well, halberds swinging. One spatters onto Korm, but a pre-cast _freedom of movement_ causes it to slide off him. Gareth is not so lucky, but at least he avoids being stuck in place.

The opening moments of this battle go badly for the Angels. On the ground, the Talenta riders rush in, slashing viciously as their mounts carry them past their targets, and the Royal Guards, though much less effective, add to the melee. An even deadlier enemy emerges, as the first speaker is revealed to be a foe from the recent past. A volley of boomerangs flies out from the location of the now revealed attacker, the surviving twin of the pair who had accompanied Halak Boromar into the arena.

Even more deadly are the flying attackers, each of whom Nameless detects as being incredibly well-protected magically. Two appear as they _fly_ closer, activating wands that fire acidic orbs to strike with painful* and unerring accuracy. The third of them is even more protected, with more than a dozen auras marking his position to Nameless, who decides to take him out of the fight first. The alienist casts a _solid fog_ around him and then, with a word and a gesture, drops a _glitterdust_ around the chanting enemy in the distance, whom only he can detect from his aerial vantage point. The golden motes outline a humanoid figure, who stops chanting, rubs frantically at his eyes and stumbles backwards, before falling over a bush.

This initial success is slowly followed by others. Korm slash into the enemies around him, taking one of the Royal Guards down, and then hacks at a speeding rider, wounding him even as the halfling’s tangat lays his own side open. Gareth, rocked by an acidic orb that blast him with unusual power _dispel_s much of the user’s protections, just as Luna, infuriated that a battle began without her, rushes back in. She screeches and an empowered _arc of lightning_ leaping from the unprotected flier to the wounded rider, blasting both of them apart**.

Six, however, is unluckier. With the multiple enemies and especially the riders being adept at racing in and out and attacking, he decides that he needs to control the battlefield better. Six calls on his harness’ power and begins to grow, expanding to the height and heft of an ogre. Unfortunately, this both requires time and makes him a bigger target. Two boomerangs slam into his forehead, temporarily dazing him, allowing another rider and a pair of the Royal Guards to strike him with impunity.

Nameless too now has problems. As he prepares to cast his most powerful _summon_ing spell, the figure in the _fog cloud_ emerges without any signs of being hindered. A bolt of _enervation_ shoots forth to strike the alienist, removing the spell he was casting from his memory, as well as a couple of others. The caster doesn’t even appear, indicating that a _greater invisibility_ is in effect. And a _shield_, since Nameless’ riposte of five _magic missile_s, whiff out of existence before striking him.

Another exchange of spells leaves Nameless the worse for wear, an acidic orb from his enemy almost sending him down, and he quickly retreats behind his own _solid fog_, shouting at Luna that he needs healing. The druid pauses to hurl a bolt of flame to take one of the Royal Guards down and then hurries to comply, englobing Nameless. On the ground, things are going marginally better. Seeing the way the boomerang thrower is keeping his allies off balance, Korm ignores his other enemies and steps towards him. The halfling hurls another volley, and though Korm deflects one, the others slam into his chest. Ignoring the pain, the Gatekeeper brings the sword up and around in an eviscerating sweep, almost cutting the halfling in half. But the attack leaves him open and another rider lays his back open in turn. Staggering under the attack, Korm quickly casts a _cocoon_ on himself too, so he is unable to see that his risk is doubly justified. The rider who attacked Korm is carried past by his dinosaur, putting him perfectly in position for an advancing Gareth. The Endless Blade comes down, gleaming with silver flame, and decapitates the halfling before he can dodge.

Despite the successes, only Gareth, Luna and Six are still on the battlefield, and the number quickly drops. As does Six. Already badly wounded while he was dazed, the now twelve-foot tall warforged is struck by another acidic orb and crashes down***. His attacker has scant time for celebration. Luna, rushing back after protecting Nameless, hurls another empowered _arc of lightning_, blasting him apart. Even as she casts, the last remaining enemy spellcaster appears, a slim human who flies down to land near Six.

To the surprise of Gareth and Luna, and evidently his few remaining allies, he looks at the two Angels and says politely, “I’m sorry, but I have to do this. I’ll see you soon. Look for me in Droaam.” With that, he touches a wand to Six and speaks a word. And the two of them promptly disappear.

Even as the two remaining Royal Guards look around confusedly and then cast down their weapons, while the last dinosaur-rider turns his mount and tries to flee, Nameless and Korm step out of their respective _cocoon_s. “What happened?” asks Korm, looking around and seeing the battle apparently over. 

“Somebody stole Six!”



* Artificers using Metamagic Item with Maximize Spell are nasty!

** I rolled damage for all the empowered spells and never got less than 50 pts on 12d6, and never higher than 5 for anyone trying to save against them. It was disgusting!

*** This is actually the first time Six got taken below -10 since the fight with the inane dragon Tyrass on the island some 27 sessions ago.


----------



## ajanders

I see they need to attend the Beautiful Beard school of combat planning.
"Always show up two hours early for your battle!"


----------



## Sidekick

heh good work.

that was a nice battle and there's nothing like an ambush from an ambush.

Shil feed me fore story hour tomorrow - I'll be unemployed then (last day in the job today) and wiling away the hours packing up stuff and waiting for my shipping company to drop of some boxes for stuff to send home. 

Peace out,
Sidekick.

p.s. BUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPah


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> I see they need to attend the Beautiful Beard school of combat planning.
> "Always show up two hours early for your battle!"




At least they're smarter than Beard in one area. They're not working with Cedric 

The second set of ambushers had actually shadowed the first, so showing up early wouldn't have made any real difference.



			
				Sidekick said:
			
		

> heh good work.
> 
> that was a nice battle and there's nothing like an ambush from an ambush.




So I figured  Six had predicted that they'd have trouble with the remaining twin because of killing his brother, and turned out to be right.



> Shil feed me fore story hour tomorrow - I'll be unemployed then (last day in the job today) and wiling away the hours packing up stuff and waiting for my shipping company to drop of some boxes for stuff to send home.
> 
> Peace out,
> Sidekick.
> 
> p.s. BUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPah




Sadly, no update until after the weekend, since I'm busy with a lot of teaching work. At least you've got the England vs. NZ match tomorrow. And best of luck on the job front.


----------



## Vorput

> Nameless smirks. “I made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.”




hehehe, great update- well worth the wait.


----------



## Sidekick

shilsen said:
			
		

> Sadly, no update until after the weekend, since I'm busy with a lot of teaching work. At least you've got the England vs. NZ match tomorrow. And best of luck on the job front.



Yeah we thumped them poms good and proper. That combined with the English Rugby team losing to Wales yesterday has restored my faith in the way the world should be.

Job? He11s no!! I'm moving back home to NZ on Thursday and I've got at least 6weeks of scheduled R&R before I even LOOK at getting a job.

So by next weekend I'l be reading your story hour from the other side of the world.

Modern society, ain't it grand


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Yeah we thumped them poms good and proper. That combined with the English Rugby team losing to Wales yesterday has restored my faith in the way the world should be.




And Bangladesh beat India and Ireland kicked Pakistan out of the Cup. I don't know whether that's in the category of "the way the world should be", but I have to say it was funny as heck. Though I'm possibly the only Indian supporter who was royally amused by the first.



> Job? He11s no!! I'm moving back home to NZ on Thursday and I've got at least 6weeks of scheduled R&R before I even LOOK at getting a job.
> 
> So by next weekend I'l be reading your story hour from the other side of the world.
> 
> Modern society, ain't it grand




Nice. Enjoy the break.

And, though it took a while, here's the next one. I'm hoping to have the next instalment done by Sunday.


* * * * * * * * * *

The Angels quickly round up the remaining attackers, consisting of two of the men in the Royal Guards uniforms, a single dinosaur-rider and the still blinded bard. There are also 13 dead bodies, about a dozen scared and curious bystanders who are smart enough to keep their distance but not enough to have fled like the others did, and very shortly after the battle ends, Flim Turen. 

The gnome reporter bustles up quickly, pad and pen appearing with near magical speed in his hands, and looks around, before shaking his head. “So this is what you call an interesting story? What the hell went down here and why?”

“Good day to you, Flim,” says Gareth, as he is healing some of his companions. “Be careful – whoever sent these may have more support. Some of my allies were notified by Saidan Boromar about the first group trying to kill us. I am not sure about the second group, but it is probably the direct family of Halak Boromar or this one,” he indicates the boomerang thrower, “Whose brother we fought and killed at the Burning Ring, after a battle which, for the record, we did not initiate. Like the ones we just had.”

Flim scribbles some quick notes. “So you were attacked by two groups? And though you didn’t initiate the fight, you were expecting it? After all, you told me to be here. Or rather, at the other park. What was that about? Actually, let’s just start at the beginning.” He looks around again and then says, “Maybe we should head back to your place and talk, but then there’ll be questions if you leave. I’m a little surprised the Watch hasn’t shown up yet.” He grins. “Or maybe they heard it was you nuts.” Flim’s words remind the Angels that even though Balan had promised to keep the Watch out of the immediate area before the trouble began, with the commotion that has occurred and the alarm that must be spreading outside, it’s only a matter of time before the Watch – and who knows what other branches of law enforcement – shows up. Nameless asks Luna, still in bird form, to head over to Balan and let him know the situation. She screeches her agreement and soars away.

After her departure, the Angels question the prisoners, especially the halfling and the bard. With the combination of Gareth’s ability to _detect thoughts_ and their given situation, they provide any and all information that the Angels want. It emerges that the group that Fett had inveigled into attacking the Angels had informed a Boromar member that they were going after the bounty. The halfling twin had learned of this and considered it a perfect situation to use to gain revenge for his brother’s death. The dinosaur-riders had come to Sharn with him and agreed to help, and he had asked the bard, who has worked for the Boromars before, to obtain the services of various people who had worked for them earlier too. The bard had hired the three artificers and the men posing as Royal Guards. They had shadowed the other group till the Park and then prepared themselves to follow up with an attack if the first ones failed.

The bard is even more surprised than the Angels about his artificer ally having fled with Six, and purportedly to Droaam. He identifies the man as Saryan, a skilled artificer who has worked for the Boromars for two years and lived in Sharn for two more before that, one who has no known connections with Droaam or the hags. Nameless takes a fair amount of pleasure explaining to the man that he has been suckered on two counts – one by this Saryan fellow, and one in failing to kill the Angels and having lost the boomerang thrower and the dinosaur-riders, who had made up most of the elite warriors that Saidan had brought in from the Talenta Plains.

Flim is very interested in the issue of Six being stolen and the Angels’ theory that the hags of Droaam are somehow involved, but promises to leave that detail out of the article when they ask him to. They do, however, tell him to make sure and print that they said they wanted to thank Saidan Boromar for his warning about the ambush, without which they would not have been able to prevail. The gnome seems quite gleeful at the prospect of Saidan’s rage when that information is printed.

By the time the Angels wrap up the interrogation and the discussion with Flim, a fairly large contingent of the Watch does arrive. Luckily, they know the Angels’ reputation and clearly want to avoid antagonizing the adventurers, especially in view of the bodies lying (now stripped of all valuable possessions) nearby. It helps that the captives, who seem to have resolved that being arrested and in Watch custody will be much safer than returning to inform Saidan Boromar that they had not only attempted an attack on the Angels without informing him but had failed and lost valuable members of the gang, admit to everything that they had done and that the Angels were only defending themselves. During the discussion, an eagle flies down and drops a rolled up scroll. It is from Balan, signed and stamped with the seal of the Blackened Book, asking the Watch members to not detain the Angels. With that available, the Watchmen – who had clearly just been looking for a reason to avoid trying to arrest them – bid the Angels goodbye, take the captives into custody, and leave.

The group then heads over to inform Balan what happened. He, like Flim, is intrigued to hear that Six has been kidnapped and that they believe the hags are involved. Balan promises any help that he can, but explains that this is far beyond his jurisdiction, as well as his capabilities and resources. The Angels thank him for the offer, nevertheless, and head back to the Gray House.

Once there, they discuss their possible options. Nameless first suggests that they visit the Augury and see if Kestia has a scroll of _scrying_ to sell. Then he can _scry_ Six and they can go after him. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asks Korm. “We’ve used a lot of our resources during the fight. Even if you could find him, we don’t know for a fact that we’ll be able to _teleport_ in, grab him, and out _teleport_ out safely. With our luck, and especially if the hags of Droaam are involved, not likely.”

“Actually, I have just the one _teleport_ ready,” says Nameless.

Gareth shakes his head. “In that case, I really don’t think we should risk it. We’re not doing Six any favors if we show up with no way to get him out, and get captured in the process. Let’s get up early, prepare, and go after him.” Korm and Luna agree that he’s right, and Nameless, a little more reluctantly, does so too.

* * * * * *

The next morning, as he is preparing, Gareth receives a _sending_. The voice that addresses him is that of Saryan, and it says, “Six is safe. _Scry_ him and _teleport_ here. Come peacefully or you suffer. Bring only – and all – the Angels. My mistress wishes speech with you.” Uncertain what he should respond with, Gareth settles for sending back a simple, “All right. We will.” Then he hurries out to inform the others.

“Then they’ll be expecting us,” says Nameless. “Still, we have to go after him. Let’s get to it.”

Over the course of the next hour, Nameless performs a _scrying_. When the spell comes into effect, he finds himself gazing at Six. The warforged is unconscious and chained to a stone seat much too big for him. None of his weapons or other equipment is on him, and the only magical aura Nameless finds is the one on Six’s now irremovable harness. The alienist concentrates and rotates the sensor he is looking through. Six is in a large, circular room, roughly sixty feet across and octagonal, with a ceiling twenty feet above. Seven of the walls contain an alcove and a large stone seat. The eighth, across from the seat that holds Six, has a large set of double doors in it. The room is also occupied by four particularly ugly and hairy ogres, one sitting in the first seat to Six’s left and three standing nearby, having a grumbling discussion in a language that Nameless cannot understand. None of them wear any armor, or anything above the waist to hide their hugely muscled torsos. Each has an unsheathed greatsword next to him and a brace of large javelins on his back. 

After some further study, Nameless ends the spell. He quickly describes what he saw, and then adds, “By the way, there’s an aura of low abjuration covering the room and another one on the doors. Probably an alarm or some minor protection.”

“Ogres with no armor? That should make things a little easier,” says Gareth, casting some preparatory spells. One causes a series of metallic spikes to extend from his armor, clothing and skin, each glowing with a silvery light. “This should make them think twice about wrestling me.”

“No armor? They’re probably _monks_!” growls Luna, spitting out the last word. “What is it with you and monks?” asks Korm, as his skin hardens to a barklike consistency under the effect of another spell. “Nothing!” she replies with a scowl. “It’s just that they tend to dodge all my spells and are hard to squash. They’re like cockroaches! Gah!”

“These ones didn’t look like the dodging kind. More the ‘Thog smash puny druid!’ type,” says Nameless. Luna simply growls and then transforms into bear form. 

“Everyone ready? Okay – let’s do this.”

* * *

A few seconds later, the Angels appear in the middle of the chamber that Nameless had just looked into a minute ago. Four large heads spin around and expressions of surprise slowly begin to appear on their faces. Before they can do so, similar – if less brutish – expressions flash across those of the Angels. The floor of the chamber falls away under the Angels’ feet, flipping open in the form of two metallic doors (painted to resemble the stone of the room) to drop them into a dark water-filled pit that stretches across the central half of the chamber, leaving a fifteen foot lip around it. Even as the ogres begin to grab at their weapons, the Angels splash into the water, without time to cry out in surprise.

Three of them, to be precise. Nameless floats above the pit, so he is the only one who sees a metal sheet slam down in front of Six’s seat. A loud grinding emanates from beyond it, a combination of stone and metal gears, which carries to the ears of even Luna and Korm as they both splash down into the water and struggle back up to the surface. Gareth does not hear it, his heavy armor continuing to carry him down rather than up, until his feet hit the floor of the pit. 

But not for long. After his initial surprise, the ex-paladin calmly says telepathically to the sword in his hands, _Care to get me out of here?_ The Endless Blade doesn’t bother with a reply, but simply propels itself and Gareth upwards, out of the pit and onto the floor outside. As he bursts out of the water, Gareth grabs Korm, lifting the Gatekeeper with him. They are only seconds ahead of Luna. The druid-bear activates a ring that she had purchased a few weeks ago and also takes flight, rising out of the pit behind the others and landing in a spot where they can bracket most of the ogres between them.

“Get the ogres!” orders Nameless. “I’ll find Six.” Floating away from the pit, he unleashes a green beam of energy, which _disintegrate_s the metal sheet, to reveal a blank stone wall where Six had been. 

Korm is the fastest to respond to the alienist’s command, slashing into the nearest of the ogres, which have been staring in surprise as the Angels appear, mostly disappear into the pit, and reappear again. With its lack of armor, his meteoric blade bites in easily, but there is something about its flesh that significantly reduces the efficacy of the blow. The answer is quickly forthcoming. The wounded ogre shouts angrily at the wound, the yell deepening and turning midway through into a feral snarl. Its features twist and change, as more hair erupts all over its body, becoming significantly more bestial as they expand into a clearly recognizable shape. In the space of seconds, its ugly humanoid head is replaced by the snarling visage of a huge wolf. Behind it, so too are the other three. “Werewolves!”* says Korm disgustedly. “No wonder!”

“Not a problem for me,” Gareth, stepping up beside Korm. The Endless Blade blazes with silver fire as he brings it down, inflicting a huge wound on the already wounded lycanthrope. Ignoring the blood streaming down its chest, the creature strikes back with a powerful blow**, which slams Gareth backwards. “Feel free to jump in, everyone!” he says, spitting blood.

“What the hells do you think we’re doing?” growls Korm, fixing one of their enemies with a baleful gaze. The magical attack overwhelms the weak-minded creature, which turns and flees, brushing past another that is engaged with Luna. The latter lycanthrope shouts a command to his fleeing ally, but it has no effect. With an angry snarl, he turns back to the druid-bear, who is having problems affecting it past its resistance to damage. Wrapping his huge arms around a rearing Luna, he actually lifts her 8,000 pounds off the ground and slams her back against the wall. On the other side of the chamber, another lycanthrope hurls a javelin the size of a small tree at Nameless, gashing the mage’s leg. 

“All right,” says Nameless calmly, floating backwards and gesturing. “Now you’ve upset me.” A cloud of thick fog envelops the javelin-thrower and the fleeing lycanthrope, and pained grunts reveal what the acidic fumes are doing. With only two lycanthropes remaining outside, the issue is barely in doubt. Gareth and Korm hack into them, while Luna hurls an empowered _arc of lightning_. By the time the other two stumble out of the _acid fog_, one to cower fearfully against the wall and the other to charge the Angels, they are the only enemies left. And, ten seconds later, aren’t.

With the lycanthropes dead, the Angels quickly fall to both healing and searching the chamber. As they begin to do so, the two trapdoors slam back up into position, locking with a loud click. Korm begins to hack at the wall Nameless had revealed, quickly reducing it to rubble, but finds only more stone behind it. “No good,” he says, and then looks at Luna, who is growling and gesturing at the _acid fog_, which still hides the closed doors from view. Falling silent, the Angels hear the muffled sound of multiple pairs of marching feet, clearly larger and louder than that of a human. 

“Let’s hope they’re more willing to talk than these idiots,” says Nameless, indicating the dead lycanthropes. “But just in case….” He casts a protective spell and then produces a pinch of glittering dust, which he flings in the air as he casts another spell on Korm. The Gatekeeper’s skin gleams metallically for a second. “_Stonekin_. That should make it harder to hurt you.” The others follow suit, even as they hear the doors slowly grind open. 

There is a pause, and then a thick voice. Muffled slightly by the intervening _fog_, it is soft but harsh, like the rasp of a blade on a distant grindstone, and – probably – female. “Are you going to come out?” the speaker asks, “Or will I have to come in?”

“We’re quite fine here, thank you,” says Nameless. “Please join us.”

The reply is a chuckle, followed by “All right.” The voice adds something in the language of giants, addressing someone else, “Don’t interfere, but don’t let anyone leave.” Then there is the sound of someone striding swiftly through the _fog_, evidently not slowed by the magical impediment. 

The figure that steps through stands just under nine feet in height, but is slightly stooped, and wears a cloak and a jerkin, both the color of dried blood, through gaps in which mithral armor gleams. Her limbs, covered in withered skin that is a deep indigo blue, are long and gnarled, ending in fingers tipped by long black talons. The hag’s eyes gleam redly and she smiles, showing needle-sharp teeth, as she eyes the Angels. 

Though he has never seen one before, Nameless has no trouble identifying the type of individual in front of them. _Annis hag_. His eyes flicker over the various magical auras on her equipment. _Hmm! No protective spells, but lots of magic equipment_. Korm’s attention is drawn instead to the gleaming black head of the large battleaxe that sticks out above her shoulder. _Adamantine! Crap!_ Then he focuses on the hag, remembering tales he has heard of the annis who ravaged the Eldeen Reaches for years before coming to rule Droaam. _Must be..._

“Sora Maenya, I presume?” asks Nameless.

“Yes,” she says, “And you must be the Guardian Angels of Sharn.” Her gaze drops to the tentacle protruding from his sleeve, Nameless not having bothered to use the _hat of disguise_ today. “Nice tentacle.”

“Thank you,” says Nameless politely. Noticing her gaze shift to the four large corpses, he adds, “Your hospitality is slightly lacking.”

“So I’m sometimes told,” Maenya says, sounding unperturbed. “I thought it might be a good way to test some new recruits. You must have some serious power to have defeated them.” Her smile broadens. “Maybe I should find out firsthand.”

Luna’s lips curl back off her teeth, while Gareth and Korm grip their weapons more tightly, the three of them forming a rough semi-circle around the hag. _She’s very powerful or very cocky, to stroll in here and challenge us this way_, thinks Nameless, and says quickly, “We’d be quite happy to tell you about it. Without violence, preferably. We don’t need to fight.”

Maenya throws back her head and laughs. And then suddenly stops. “Yes, but let’s.” And she charges forward.


* Ogre dire werewolves, to be precise.
** Raging ogre dire werewolf with a 44 Str, which put it ahead of many great wyrm


----------



## carborundum

"Yes, but lets"

Yikes! You just know the DM having fun when a nasty NPC pulls a stunt like that 

Roll on Sunday!


----------



## Vorput

So what power does the endless blade have that allowed Gareth to get out of the pit?


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> So what power does the endless blade have that allowed Gareth to get out of the pit?




It gives him "Swift Fly" (flight for 1rnd) something like 3 times a day. He used it a couple of times in the battle against the ghoul horde where we recovered it.


----------



## shilsen

Six opens his eyes, stoically ignoring the pain all over his form as he tries to remember what happened. _The battle!_ The last thing he recalls is being struck by an _acid orb_, and as he looks around, the warforged expects to see Nameless reviving him. Instead, what meets his gaze is the wary expression of a stranger with a wand in his hand, who quickly takes a step back as Six sits up with a muffled groan. Behind the man stand four ogres and two trolls, armored in gleaming mail, gnarled hands resting on proportionately large weapons, who all straighten slightly into ready positions as the warforged stirs.

“Don’t worry,” says the stranger quickly, in a soothing voice, waving down his guards, though he steps no closer for the nonce, “You are safe. You are in Droaam now, and your friends will be here shortly.”

“Droaam?” asks Six, uncertain what’s going on, but realizing that making any sudden moves might be a mistake. “How did I get here?”

“I brought you here, actually. But everything will be explained when your friends arrive. Before that, however, I should see to your wounds. Will you let me do so?”

Six nods, and the man approaches and begins to use the wand over and over again to repair the cracks and bruises all over Six’s structure. While he does so, the warforged looks around. As his mechanical eyes adapt to the low illumination, he sees that he is in a huge cavern, lit only by hundreds of what seem like coals set into the far walls, sitting beneath a small grove of mostly leafless, twisted trees growing out of the hard, half-rocky earth beneath him. Beneath him is a large, thick blanket, and around it are a number of others, interspersed with low, thick wooden seats. Near him are his possessions and equipment, folded and placed in neat piles. 

The man stops and says, “You should be fine now,” and Six realizes that he has been almost fully returned to health, though the odd wound remains. “Please wait here.” He rises and walks away, followed by the giant guards, pausing only to add, “Don’t try to leave.” 

Six watches until they reach the wall of the chamber, nearly a hundred feet away, and knock on a large door. It is opened from the outside by another pair of ogre guards, who let the group through and then shut it again. Once they are gone, Six rises gingerly, moves to his possessions and begins to re-equip himself. Having done so, he glances around the chamber again. By now, his eyes have adapted further, and the warforged finally realizes what the muted illumination here is coming from. Set into cracks in the walls of the chamber are scores, no, hundreds of skulls, each glowing like a dying coal in a fading fire. The macabre light darkly illumines the chamber, creating more shadows than actual light, and for some reason he cannot explain, Six feels as if each skull were somehow aware of his presence. The awareness is not malign nor even truly conscious, he feels, but more a dim, pathetic response to a life – alien as it may be – that resembles what their owners once possessed, and what they are forever bereft of but somehow vaguely bound to. 

Though he almost never uses physical gestures as the less-mechanical species do, Six shivers slightly. With nowhere to go, he returns to the blanket and settles down into a comfortable position. Then, with the endless patience of his kind, he waits, wondering how exactly he ended up here. Six also wonders when he will see his friends, and what they might be doing.

* * *

As Sora Maenya moves, Luna unleashes one of her favorite _flame strike_s. The column of flames interlaced with holy energy slams down on the hag, but she doesn’t even wince, and as it disappears, there isn’t a mark on her. She laughs and says, “Cute trained bear, but I’ll get to her later. But first – the Flamer!” 

Nameless shouts, “Annis hags are resistant to magic!” He rushes through the motions of the _assay resistance_ that Saala Torrn had taught him, and evokes a _cone of cold_, aiming it precisely so as to catch only Maenya. To his surprise, despite the increased ability granted by the former spell, the spray of magical ice simply bounces off the hag’s indigo hide like raindrops on a rock. _How high is her resistance?_

The hag only laughs again, and then her long arms shoot out, steel-hard nails ripping through Gareth’s enchanted mail as if it were paper, sinking deep into his flesh, twisting and ripping as she clenches her hands with fiendish glee. Gareth screams in agony as his blood jets out and runs down the hag’s indigo hands, and literally tears himself off her talons, before striking back, calling out to the Silver Flame. The Endless Blade shouts wordlessly too as it blazes in his hands, striking with a force that would cut an ox in half, but here only carving a deep, momentarily argent-flecked, wound across the hag’s shoulder*. Dark blood runs down her arm.

“Korm! _Cocoon_ me!” pleads Gareth. The Gatekeeper throws Maenya a worried glance, knowing that if he’s protecting Gareth, it leaves her free to attack. But it’s clear that a single blow will kill Gareth, and with a sigh, Korm bravely complies, leaving only himself within arm’s reach of her. Not being completely suicidal, he quickly tries to take cover behind the _cocoon_.

For a second, Maenya ignores him, actually looking surprised as she gazes at the wound Gareth inflicted. As she begins to look up, eight thousand pounds of charging bear hits her. Luna shoves the hag backwards with sheer weight and momentum, growling and clawing, but even her huge claws barely graze Maenya’s rock-hard skin. With an angry snarl, the druid rears up and wraps both forepaws around Maenya, trying to squeeze her into submission. But even as she tries to bite down on the hag’s unarmored head, an elbow smashes into Luna’s throat with stunning force, causing her to gag momentarily. Muscles like ironwood flex as Maenya forces Luna’s muzzle back with one hand, while her other hand reaches up and frees her axe, its dark blade seeming to draw in rather than reflect the firelight. “No more playing!” the hag says, her smile now more of a snarl. 

Her brow furrows as she concentrates, and the Angels (except Gareth, safe inside the _cocoon_) convulse in agony as an invisible magical assault rips into them. It feels as if the moisture within their bodies were being momentarily vaporized, sending searing pangs throughout them, leaving them feeling desiccated and painfully dried out from the inside. Nameless’ eyes go wide in shock. _Horrid Wilting! A dweomer of the eighth valence!_** And then his eyes widen as everything falls into place. The hag’s unnatural resistance to magic, far beyond what even a particularly powerful annis should have. The gleam of red in her eyes. Her ability to use a _horrid wilting_ without pronouncing a word or making a gesture. “Son of a bitch! She’s a half-fiend!” 

The hag smiles at the words. “How clever!”

With no time for discussing this revelation, Korm rushes in too, trying to take advantage of Luna’s attempts, however abortive, to wrestle the hag to the ground. As with the bear’s claws, even the blade of his meteoric sword only inflicts a series of shallow wounds on her. Sora Maenya does not have the same problem. Shoving Luna’s bulk away, she takes her axe in both hands and swings it in mighty arcs, depicting gigantic figures of eight, each one ending with a blow at Korm or Luna. Despite their skill and multiple protective dweomers, the two druids can barely withstand the slashing strokes, each of which cracks bone and rends flesh, threatening to drop them at any instant. 

Nameless, not wanting to risk failing to penetrate the hag’s resistance, casts his most powerful conjuration, and then swears loudly as he only _summon_s one creature, instead of the three he could have. Nevertheless, his pseudonatural stag beetle buys the others some time, rearing up to drive its giant mandibles into the hag’s back. For the first time in the battle, Sora Maenya cries out at the blow, dark blood running down her tunic to join that dripping from the myriad small wounds she already carries, and the emboldened druids rush back in, desperately trying to hold her until a fully healed Gareth is able to rejoin the fight. They, and Nameless, hear a momentary commotion at the door, but there is no time to worry about that.

Korm sees an opportunity as he comes in, as the hag launches a low, sweeping blow at his knees. The Gatekeeper bounds forward and up, rising high above the axe, bringing down his sword in a powerful two-handed chop that would cut most enemies in half, but only deeply gashes his foe’s chest. Though blood pours out, Sora Maenya only smiles, and Korm realizes a second too late that it was a feint. The hag’s axe changes direction at incredible speed, sweeping up instead of around, and meeting Korm as he comes down. The adamantine blade rips through the orc’s _stoneskin_ and lays open his belly from navel to breastbone. Too hurt to even cry out, Korm falls in a heap, dropping his sword and curling up in agony to reflexively try and hold back the guts spilling out of the wound. 

Sora Maenya doesn’t pause to celebrate but continues around, her axe splashing Korm’s blood into Luna’s eyes. The momentarily blinded bear swings wildly at her, only to scream as a slash almost severs a paw, and desperately swings her head back and forth to clear her vision. Success, and a cry of “Look out, Luna!” from Nameless, comes a split second too late. Her eyes clear just in time to see the axe come down right between them. There is the tortured crunch of splitting bone and an accompanying spurt of crimson fluid from Luna’s nostrils, and she collapses***. Sora Maenya grins triumphantly at Nameless, who has backed up as far as he can against the wall, and rips the axe free, before casually leaning sideways to bury her fangs into Korm’s defenseless back. The Gatekeeper drops too, blood pooling around him.

Nameless’ _summon_ed stag beetle continues to attack, but having used its one magically imbued attack, it has no success. Neither does Nameless, hurling another abortive spell, before clawing quickly at his belt. As Korm’s _cocoon_ falls apart and Gareth steps out, sword raised, to see the scene of carnage, the alienist hurriedly produces a sheet of paper and waves it. “Did I mention that we have a letter from your sister?”

Sora Maenya, in the process of stepping towards Gareth, frowns slightly at the unexpected words. At the same moment, all of them hear the sound of spellcasting beyond the _acid fog_ and it disappears, revealing a few ogres and trolls looking around the sides of the open doorway. Between the doors stands the slightly hunched figure of the spellcaster. She wears a long cloak with the hood pushed back, revealing the face of a crone, covered in shriveled orange skin like weathered parchment, framed in long wispy gray hair. Her eyes are milky white and apparently blind, but she is evidently aware of what is occurring, since she speaks sharply. “Maenya – stop it! What are you doing?” The annis makes no reply but does step back and lower her axe, the fiercely amused expression being replaced by one that can only be described as embarrassingly sullen, like that of a naughty child caught red-handed.

The crone, whom Nameless recognizes as a dusk hag, hurries forward to Korm. As Gareth protectively steps forward, Nameless quickly calls a command to his beetle and says, “Gareth, stop! Check on Luna!” before adding to her, “Sora Teraza, I presume?”

“Yes,” she says, leaning over Korm. With one hand, she pushes Korm’s viscera back into his ripped stomach, and gestures with the other as she casts. Nameless and Gareth both recognize it as a _heal_, and as the powerful conjuration instantly seals Korm’s wounds, the Gatekeeper begins to stir. As his eyes open and he looks up in confusion at the dusk hag, Nameless quickly says, “It’s all right, Korm!” Gareth, having hurried across to Luna and cast a couple of healing spells, also hurriedly explains to her what has happened, or at least as much of it as he can understand.

Now that they are all out of danger, Sora Teraza ignores the Angels, rounding on her much larger sister. Striding up to Sora Maenya, she says sternly, “Why did you have the warforged moved, Maenya? You could have ruined everything!” The object of the scolding grumbles, “I was just getting some exercise,” drawing a heartfelt comment of “And very impressive exercise it was too!” from Nameless. Maenya grins at him and then quickly looks back to Teraza. “The warforged is safe. I just wanted to see what’s so special about this bunch. They’re pretty good, I must say. They also managed to take out some of the new lycanthropes. I’d figured I’d test them that way as well. Katra will be a little unhappy, but we can make more.” Teraza stares up at her with the sightless eyes for a long moment, and then turns away to address the Angels. “Forgive my sister’s behavior. And the manner in which I had to bring you here. Unfortunately, there was extreme urgency, and I didn’t think you’d come under any other circumstances. Please follow me and I’ll explain everything. Do not worry. You are our guests, and safe here.” She bestows a withering frown on Maenya and turns away. 

The annis follows, and after a couple of seconds, so do the Angels. As they pass out of the chamber, the ogres and trolls fall in behind them. Gareth throws them a wary look and then leans over to whisper to Nameless, “I think we could have taken her, don’t you?” The look the alienist responds with makes Teraza’s last one to Maenya seem remarkably friendly. “You,” he says succinctly, “Are an _idiot!_”

Nameless then turns to study the area they are passing through, as the others are doing. The Angels and their hosts/guards are passing along a gigantic verandah, with chambers and tunnels to their right, while gigantic windows behind thick stone pillars to their left look out over a large city. The city, from what they can see of it, extends from the side of a vast mountain, into which the building they are in is set, which looks out over a huge, fertile plain. Though hardly as large (even two-dimensionally) as Sharn, the city is quite large and evidently still growing, with hundreds of tents and huts extending in a thick arc around the central area of stone buildings, many of which are ruinous and under reconstruction. One side of the city is taken up by what looks like a large and well-organized barracks, and a gigantic arena dominates another part. It is populous as it is sizeable, clearly holding tens of thousands of creatures. Nameless recognizes the place as the Great Crag, taking its name from the mountain above, capital and stronghold of the Daughters of Sora Kell, where the monstrous denizens of Droaam gather to pay tribute.

Examples of the inhabitants are quickly encountered as the group proceeds past the verandah and further into the complex they are in. Most of the creatures they pass are gnolls, but its busy chambers and passageways hold orcs, goblinoids, ogres, and trolls, as well as a few minotaurs, many of whom stop to stare at the group or respond to a word or two from the hags. Though none are present nearby, the Angels see a flight of harpies rising above them through a window, heading towards what look like numerous roosts in the cliffs above. As the Angels pass, a couple of burly hill giants pause in their labor, lowering a gigantic block of stone that they are pushing into place in a ruined hall of the palace, which resembles the city in undergoing – and clearly needing – significant reconstruction. In places its origins are evident to the trained eye, the faded abstractions of Dhakaani architecture blending with the duller and blocky construction that has been more recently added.

Eventually, the Angels come to a large pair of doors, guarded by four ogres, who turn and push them open as the group approaches. Teraza stops and gestures at the dark, torchlit cavern within. “Enter freely. Your friend is waiting.”

* * *

A few minutes later, the Angels – including Six – are seated on mats or low stools with the two hags beneath the grove of twisted darkwood trees, digging into a hearty meal while Sora Teraza explains why she brought them here.

Though listening intently, Nameless gazes at the skulls decorating the walls of the chamber, thinking of a legend he had once heard. The tale said that one of Sora Maenya’s unique abilities is to bind a creature’s soul into its skull, by feasting on the body and performing a particular ritual, making it impossible to ever return the victim to life through any means as long as the skull remains unbroken. Nameless’ permanent _arcane sight_ has already told him that every skull in the chamber reeks of strong necromantic magic, and he puts this down as one of the various legends that his experiences have served to corroborate. As he turns back to the conversation, Maenya catches his eye and smiles, tongue sliding wetly and lasciviously over her pointed teeth, as if she knew what he was thinking.

Ignoring her, Nameless addresses Teraza. “So you do know that the original vision or prophecy you had regarding us was a fake?”

“Yes,” she nods, pale white orbs bent on him, “I realized that only a fortnight later. I attempted to contact you, but by that point you had already departed for Xen’drik.” She shakes her head slowly. “I still do not know how that rakshasa Zathara did it.”

“Nor do we, but we know he had a lot of resources. And was _very_ powerful.”

“Not enough to survive meeting you all,” adds Maenya. “From what Teraza described to us, it was a good battle.” Her sister explains, “I had a vision of what was happening when you finally fought him. It is a good thing for all of Eberron that you won.”

“Yes,” nods Korm. “What he was trying was … well, not likely to improve anyone’s future. But you have not yet told us what the urgency of this meeting was.”

“Yes,” says Teraza. “Let me do so.” Her gaze, such as it is, returns to Nameless. “Right after you returned from the Wastes, I had a vision of something dire to happen to you, which might have a bearing for all of us. I sent an agent – the one who brought you here, Six – to watch and wait until I knew what to do. Again, only weeks ago, I had a second vision, and the day of your temporary demise, one more, which told me much more. I had learned that my agent was among those contacted to participate in an attack on your group, and it seemed the perfect opportunity. So I took it.”

She raises a gnarled and wrinkled hand to point at Nameless’ chest. “Do you know what you carry there now?”

“No, but …” begins Nameless, pausing to glare when Gareth interrupts, “We know that it’s evil and strongly magical. Do you know what it is?”

“No.” Teraza shakes her head. “But what my visions told me is that though whatever it is may be quiescent now, it can be brought to life, and what it will birth would threaten all of Khorvaire and reshape the world as we know it.”

As she is speaking, Gareth surreptitiously begins to use his newly regained ability to _detect evil_ in the area, finding its presence. As he does, Nameless realizes what he is doing, due to the permanent _arcane sight_, and elbows Gareth violently in the ribs. Gareth shoves him back, trying to concentrate on the aura, and manages to find one aura (though he is focusing on the two hags), an overwhelmingly powerful one. Despite the jostling, he manages to pinpoint it as emanating from Sora Maenya.

“Is there a problem?” asks Teraza, while Maenya growls and reaches for her axe, which she has placed nearby. 

“Forgive my associate,” says Nameless, “But he persists in being rude by attempting to gather information that never helps us and thinks he’s being subtle, no matter how transparent he is. He was trying to _detect_ if any of you are evil.” Teraza doesn’t respond, but Maenya begins to chuckle at the news, while Gareth rounds angrily on Nameless. “If you didn’t tell people about it, they’d never know!” Korm puts in, with a deep chuckle too, “And then we know who to trust and who to give a survey to.” Gareth shakes his head and subsides, muttering, “Next time, I _will_ smack you. Hard!” Nameless ignores him and says, “Please, continue.”

Before Teraza can do so, Maenya interrupts. “If he’s walking around with something so dangerous in his chest, why not just kill him?” She grins and says, “I could use a new skull.”

“NO!” Teraza’s reply is loud and firm. “He must _not_ be harmed!” Apparently seeing the slightly surprised looks on not just Maenya’s but the Angels’ faces, she turns and explains. “I only have a couple of details, but there’s one thing my visions make me certain of. Nameless’ death would release or activate whatever it is he carries within him. He must not be slain.”

“That is a problem, with our line of work and lifestyle,” says Korm.

“Precisely. That’s why I wished to contact and warn you as soon as possible. You need to be as careful as you can, and hopefully find out exactly what is the situation with you. I would like to help you as much as I can.”

“I mean no offense,” says Gareth, trying to sound as polite as he can, “But why should we trust you? We have been fooled before. And while you have been helpful, your sister is overwhelmingly evil.” Sora Maenya simply grins at the comment, but Sora Teraza replies seriously, “True, but this is not a matter of good or evil. There are many powers and groups in our world who would be very interested in Nameless’ condition and be hardly helpful or forthcoming as I am being, whether they are good or evil. The Blood of Vol, the Lords of Dust, the Gatekeepers, the Church of the Silver Flame, the Dragonmarked Houses – they all have personal agendas and desires, and a serious danger to Khorvaire puts them at risk.” She pauses for a moment, and then asks, “What do you think the Church of the Silver Flame would do if they knew what I have told you?”

“Probably lock Nameless away somewhere and study him,” replies Gareth instantly. He looks at Nameless and continues, “Which is not a bad idea. As Korm said, with our lifestyle, you’re always in danger of getting killed, and if – _if_ – you are infected with something so dangerous, keeping you safe and looking for a cure or solution is the best option, I think. Few organizations have the Church’s options in that area.”

Before anyone else can put in, Teraza turns quickly to Korm. “And what do you think? How would the Gatekeepers react? They have always been more concerned about Xoriat than any others.”

Korm frowns slightly and then replies, more slowly than Gareth, “This time I think Gareth is right. If Nameless’ death would release such danger on the world, then he should be kept safe somewhere, preferably where few would know of and be able to find him.” He looks at the alienist and shrugs. “Sorry.”

“Well,” adds Six, who has been listening silently for the most part, “If Nameless’ death would release this … whatever it is, locking him in a room doesn’t seem like much of a solution. Does it improve anything if a gate to Xoriat pops out of his chest forty years later?”

“Yes,” argues Gareth. “That’s better than risking it being released tomorrow. And forty years is a long time, which might allow the discovery of a solution.” 

“But for a solution,” persists Six, “You’re probably going to need a powerful mage who’s especially well-informed about Xoriat, and Nameless is one of the most powerful of those around. Even if you did find one knowledgeable enough to help, how do you know they will, or even that something similar might not have happened to them?”

Before Gareth can respond, Sora Teraza turns back to Nameless and says, “You see what I mean.” The alienist nods and then looks around and says flatly, “Nobody’s locking me up anywhere,” before addressing her. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Perhaps, but I would like a little more precise information, since what I know of it are from my visions. Could you tell me what happened?”

“Certainly.” Nameless proceeds on a description of what he experienced while on Xoriat, again making sure to leave out any details that might have to do with the imprint in his head or link back to his experience in the Mournland. 

Once he finishes, Sora Teraza says, “Thank you. That may help if and when I have another vision, since I am not an expert on either the daelkyr or Xoriat. Which is why I have considered a possible source that is much more knowledgeable on the subject, and who might be able to help with learning more about your condition. Tell me – have you heard of Mordain the Fleshweaver?”

There is a moment of silence while the other Angels look blank and Nameless furrows his brow in thought. And then Sora Maenya begins to giggle.


* He criticaled her for 80+ pts or so
** This is where Rackhir went, “Jesus Christ! That’s _9th_ level!” and I corrected him that it was only eighth 
*** I think she got dropped to -30 or something like that


----------



## Vorput

> Please follow me and I’ll explain everything. Do not worry. You are our guests, and safe here.




...After kidnapping one, dropping two- and making the others fear for their lives?  You really are a RBDM Shilsen...



> *** I think she got dropped to -30 or something like that




If you're not doing action points anymore, how are you handling what could be routine player deaths?


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> ...After kidnapping one, dropping two- and making the others fear for their lives?  You really are a RBDM Shilsen...




At least we didn't have to give them *THE SURVEY*.



			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> If you're not doing action points anymore, how are you handling what could be routine player deaths?




Handing in three of the swashbuckling cards is the same as burning action points to prevent a death.


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> ...After kidnapping one, dropping two- and making the others fear for their lives?  You really are a RBDM Shilsen...




But it's not new. My evil NPCs (and Teraza isn't even evil) are unfailingly polite and nice to the PCs 

And them getting dropped like they did wasn't at all surprising, since Sora Maenya's a whopping CR 19. Half-fiend Annis Hag Bbn10. She was functioning at below full capacity since she didn't use any buffs or protective spells, and actually chose not to rage during the fight since she wanted to be in full control and also able to use her Sp abilities, but even so, she's the single toughest enemy they've faced yet. Good thing she didn't really want to kill them.



> If you're not doing action points anymore, how are you handling what could be routine player deaths?




As Rackhir said, except it's down to two swashbuckling cards being discarded (they get 3 a session) because the players complained that 3 is too many, considering how often they get dropped.


----------



## Solarious

shilsen said:
			
		

> And them getting dropped like they did wasn't at all surprising, since Sora Maenya's a whopping CR 19. Half-fiend Annis Hag Bbn10. She was functioning at below full capacity since she didn't use any buffs or protective spells, and actually chose not to rage during the fight since she wanted to be in full control and also able to use her Sp abilities, but even so, she's the single toughest enemy they've faced yet. Good thing she didn't really want to kill them.



Also another good thing since you're playing with the Book of Nine Swords, and you didn't have her rage, you can legitimately change her class to Warblade (as per Keith Baker's unreleased ToB Eberron Expanded article), as a grandmistress Tiger Claw (with her own two formidable claws with which to bathe in the blood of her enemies) and Iron Heart manuvers (which probably complements her perfered fighting style best). It's something to consider: I mean, you can't really turn down anything that makes your gaming more interesting, right? 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> As Rackhir said, except it's down to two swashbuckling cards being discarded (they get 3 a session) because the players complained that 3 is too many, considering how often they get dropped.



So basicly they're not really playing with 3 cards, but rather only one because they seem to need their second chances every time they turn around.  You know, for some of the most powerful indiviuals roaming Khorvaire, they got there owing more the fact they have an uncanny ability to live through multiple situations where they should be dead rather than actually being effective.  


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> "...Tell me – have you heard of Mordain the Fleshweaver?”
> 
> There is a moment of silence while the other Angels look blank and Nameless furrows his brow in thought. And then Sora Maenya begins to giggle.



Ah, and only now do we realize how deep in the tub of fecal matter the Angels are. Mayhaps they shall get their first taste of Time Stop soon? 

When Nameless' merciless torture by shilsen ends (in a few years), I shall be waiting with a scrub, soap, and complementry body bag to put himself in. Don't worry, he should have a Clone by then.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Also another good thing since you're playing with the Book of Nine Swords, and you didn't have her rage, you can legitimately change her class to Warblade (as per Keith Baker's unreleased ToB Eberron Expanded article), as a grandmistress Tiger Claw (with her own two formidable claws with which to bathe in the blood of her enemies) and Iron Heart manuvers (which probably complements her perfered fighting style best).




I never really considered changing things around seriously for Maenya, since I didn't want to bother, but you're right - a Tiger Claw & Iron Heart focused warblade would fit perfectly with her flavorwise. She was actually going to use only her claws, which she does prefer, but the opening critical from Gareth made her figure that she should use the axe instead. I'll remember the warblade idea for when the PCs pick up a couple more levels and come up against her seriously 



> It's something to consider: I mean, you can't really turn down anything that makes your gaming more interesting, right?




Precisely. I like the way you think 



> So basicly they're not really playing with 3 cards, but rather only one because they seem to need their second chances every time they turn around.




It's not that bad  They generally only use the two card option every second session, though there have been a few recent ones where they burned through a number of cards to minimize blows and damage before coming to that point.



> You know, for some of the most powerful indiviuals roaming Khorvaire, they got there owing more the fact they have an uncanny ability to live through multiple situations where they should be dead rather than actually being effective.




Rackhir has mentioned on more than one occasion that the Angels will know they're truly powerful when they are able to go and buy a newspaper in Sharn without having to do it en masse. I added at one point, "And unbuffed," and he gave me a dirty look and said, "Are you crazy? No matter how high level we get, buying newspapers unbuffed would be suicide!"



> Ah, and only now do we realize how deep in the tub of fecal matter the Angels are. Mayhaps they shall get their first taste of Time Stop soon?




Luckily for them, I took out Time Stop, Shapechange, and a couple of other such spells from my game. On the other hand, I do have the Spell Compendium now. But I'm sure it won't be a problem. The Angels should just be able to sweet-talk Mordain into helping them. After all, they have an absolutely stellar record of being able to do so. For certain definitions of "absolutely" and "stellar"  



> When Nameless' merciless torture by shilsen ends (in a few years), I shall be waiting with a scrub, soap, and complementry body bag to put himself in. Don't worry, he should have a Clone by then.




Well, poor Gareth got nicely roasted for a bit, and it seems it's Nameless' turn now. as I've said before, I rarely plan ahead for these things, and it's just that Nameless' death opened up so many options for me to tie it in with a number of things that have been going on and potentially will. 

However, having had a long "how do we get rid of the nuke?" arc with the Shard, even though we've had nine sessions and 1.5 months of campaign time pass since then, I don't want the PCs to get into another "how do we get rid of the nuke in Nameless' chest?" scenario unless they really want to, so I'll be throwing them a couple of options for putting that on the backburner more or less safely (it can't be completely safe, since then I lose my RBDM-cred) and dealing with other things for the immediate future. Plus they're in all likelihood going to hit 13th lvl after next session (we should be playing Saturday, if we don't have to postpone, as we have twice already), so they'll have a few more toys to play with. I'm probably going to just throw out a bunch of plot hooks again and see what they pick.

In short, as usual, I have no preplanned idea of where things are going to go. All I know is that there will be hell, handbaskets, and a certain amount of suffering involved


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> Well, poor Gareth got nicely roasted for a bit, and it seems it's Nameless' turn now.




Ahem, there are other characters to be torturing. Luna, Korm, Six....



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> In short, as usual, I have no preplanned idea of where things are going to go. All I know is that there will be hell, handbaskets, and a certain amount of suffering involved




Got that mixed up. Hell and handbaskets is Mallus's Campaign AKA the Chronicles of Burne.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Ahem, there are other characters to be torturing. Luna, Korm, Six....





All in do time.  Gareth got it for two  years...now it's your turn...by then Luna's litter of babies will have matured enough to cause her nightmares (terrible two's).... then Korm, and well Six will be Shil's masterpiece... for all his gloating, it will be the boomerang effect.  He will be epic level and mugged by a couple level 2's.


----------



## Rackhir

If you're bored waiting for Shil to post the next update and want to add to Gareth's suffering (not to mention the rest of the party's most likely) Shil has a plot suggestions thread going in the main board. I can't link directly to it, cause we're not supposed to read it for some reason...   But it's called "The Fleshweaver & my PCs (ideas requested)"


----------



## Solarious

Don't you worry my dearies, you're in good hands. I was there as soon as I saw it, and your future is... bright and cheerful! Expect many upgrades. You'll all be deadlier than ever. 

I weep for the poor, poor NPCs that shilsen has to throw into your slaughterhouse of a game. I truly do.


----------



## shilsen

Solarius said:
			
		

> Don't you worry my dearies, you're in good hands. I was there as soon as I saw it, and your future is... bright and cheerful! Expect many upgrades. You'll all be deadlier than ever.
> 
> I weep for the poor, poor NPCs that shilsen has to throw into your slaughterhouse of a game. I truly do.




Yes, Solarius did make some great suggestions for remarkably generous things to do to ... I mean, for your PCs. Yes, definitely 'for'. As did a lot of other people. In case anyone else wants to jump in and make some suggestions, the thread is here.

And on to the update...

* * * * * *

The Angels – besides Nameless – look curiously at Sora Maenya. _Nothing which makes her giggle can be a good thing_. The alienist, instead, says, “Yes, I have heard of Mordain. Of House Phiarlan, a provost of the Twelve…”

“Twelve what?” asks Luna.

“Just the Twelve. It’s the arcane organization created by the dragonmarked Houses at the end of the War of the Mark, fifteen hundred years ago, to study magic. Especially the kind with applications that lets the Houses make their money. Paltry stuff, really,” says Nameless dismissively.

“I know what the Twelve are. I’ve seen their floating tower in Korth,” says Gareth. “But what about this Mordain?”

“As I was saying,” continues Nameless, “Mordain was a leading member, whose studies of transmutation shocked his compatriots so much that he was banished from the Twelve.” He looks at Sora Teraza. “Since you mentioned him, I presume the rumors that he found a home in Droaam are correct?”

“Yes, they are. Mordain dwells on the western border of Droaam, where it meets your home, Korm’akhan. He is perhaps the greatest living wizard in this world, and he specializes in the arts of the daelkyr. Not the kind Nameless studies, I gather,” the blind hag explains, “But specifically the remaking of creatures and the creation of new species by a blending of two or more. Hence the name – Fleshweaver.”

“Yeah,” growls Luna, “That’s the bit I don’t like. Why are we always involved with people who do this icky ?!”

Sora Maenya laughs, and turns to her sister. “So you’re sending them to Mordain? Wouldn’t it just be easier to let me eat them?”

Sora Teraza continues placidly, “I would not do this normally. We do not bother Mordain and he doesn’t bother us. But these are unusual circumstances. Mordain has little interest in Xoriat itself, but he is interested in the daelkyr’s arts, and he is absolutely obsessed with his work. Anything that is a serious danger to Khorvaire is a danger to his work, and so I think he will be interested. With his knowledge and magical prowess, if anyone can find an answer to what it is that you carry, Nameless, I think he is the likeliest. I will contact him and inform him you are going. If you will. What do you think?”

Nameless is silent for a few moments. “All right. We have no other real options right now.”

“Very well,” says Sora Teraza. “I suggest that you spend the night here, and leave at dawn tomorrow. I shall arrange for your accommodation and you will not be bothered. In the morning, I will give you directions and hopefully obtain a map that will make travel easier for you. Travel in Droaam is more complicated and dangerous than in Breland, but I shall do what I can to make your journey easier.” She looks around at the Angels with her sightless orbs, seeming to consider something, and then smiles slowly. “It is a pleasure to have met you.”

“Yes, it was a positive joy!” adds Sora Maenya, with a broad grin, the corpse-light from the skulls gleaming off her fangs. Teraza throws her a disapproving glance, and continues, “Is there any other way in which I may help?”

“I find myself curiously grateful that Sora Maenya is your sister and not a brother,” says Nameless dryly, causing the annis to throw back her head and laugh raucously. “Aaah – little mage, you are truly amusing! If you were really enemies of ours, I would have eaten you last.” The alienist simply nods and says, his tone unchanged, “I will hold you to that, though you might be better off eating Gareth last. I’m pretty sure anything that eats him will suffer mightily from indigestion.” This time Maenya doesn’t laugh, simply glancing at Gareth, licking her lips and saying, “His head does look a little hard to digest.”

“As far as aid goes,” Nameless continues, ignoring the look Gareth gives her, “If you have a library I could peruse. I would be interested in seeing if it has any information relevant to my condition. While I’m sure that you’ve already checked the obvious sources you possess, another set of eyes is often useful and I do have a unique background that might provide additional insight.”

“So I gather,” says Teraza, with a slight smile. “Unfortunately, we have no library here. That is not something which interests Maenya much,” (the annis grunts her agreement) “and I have some difficulty in that area, though I can read when I choose.” She gestures at her blind white eyes. “Katra has a small collection, but less leisure, and nothing that relates to your condition. I believe she will be interested in speaking to you.” Teraza turns to Maenya. “She should be back today, correct?” Maenya nods. “Yes. She’s a little late.”

“Ah, disappointing,” says Nameless. “I had hoped that you would have accumulated a more eclectic library, given the oddities of your positions and the length of your lives. If you’d like, I could procure a larger variety of books for you from Sharn, but I suspect you can already obtain what you wish to get. Speaking of Sharn and your sister, was it her that Gareth and I encountered after our little debacle with the Drug Den?”

“No. We have enough things to busy us here in Droaam without traveling elsewhere. And I appreciate the offer,” says Teraza. “If I can ever think of anything, I will let you know.” She smiles. “I hope we will be able to have a long and meaningful relationship.” Maenya snorts. “Damn! Get a room, you two!” Then she looks back to Gareth. “Would _you_ like to?” 

After an amused glance at Gareth’s face, Nameless says to Teraza, “Aside from that … if you have the time I would like simply to hear what tales you care to tell. There are few who have seen as much as you have and fewer who have actually had the opportunity to listen to your tales outside of Droaam, I’m sure.”

Teraza nods. “I am not much of a storyteller, and I have things to do soon, but I have some leisure now and will share what I can. And I am interested in you too. All of you. The events of our time seem to coalesce around you strangely, and I am interested to see how your futures develop. I have some questions for you too.” Nameless replies, “I will be happy to fill you in on what you don’t know already, where I can without violating other confidences. I suspect you already know more of our business than even most of our other close associates do.”

“Actually, no,” admits Teraza, “My primary knowledge of you has been based on what my visions have shown – and admittedly I had a number of them during your experiences with the Key and the rakshasas – and what I have learned through Daask. I’m quite sure you have many things of interest to discuss that I have no knowledge of. But I shall begin. What would you like to know? If I had met you before you went to the Wastes I could have told you much of it, since I spent decades wandering them in search of knowledge, but I doubt you will want to be returning there any time soon.” 

This piques Six’s interest, and he speaks up abruptly. “How did you avoid the corruption of the zone? And how can magic be used to stop the sickness?”

“I’m not sure magic can deal with it,” replies Teraza, “Though if one has enough powerful healing and protective magic, one can survive long enough for it to eventually fade. Which takes months, and maybe years, depending on the individual, I believe. As for how I avoided it ....” She hesitates, but then her sister says, “You can tell them,” jerking a thumb at Nameless. “Genius here worked out what we are.” Her sister’s blind eyes stare at her for a moment, and Maenya shrugs and adds defensively, “What? I used a _horrid wilting_ on them and he figured it out. How was I supposed to know?”

Sora Teraza continues to stare for a couple of moments, and then turns back to Six. “As Nameless has evidently noted, we are what are called half-fiends. That makes us what the sages call outsiders, and all outsiders, to the best of my knowledge, are immune to the negative elements of the Taint of the Wastes, though they can carry its effects with them.” She gazes around, addressing all of the Angels. “I suggest not sharing the information about our nature with anyone.”

Nameless nods, and Six continues, “So if you could magically become like an outsider, that should protect one from the region? Also, if the taint fades, then travelers don’t need to be killed, like we were told, but just isolated until they are better, right? Would a weak link to another plane keep out the corruption?” At this point, Maenya grunts, stands up and says, “I can see this’ll take a while and I have work to do. Teraza, you sure you’ll be fine with them?” Her sister frowns slightly as she looks up, and says, “Yes.” 

Maenya shrugs. “All right. Let me know if you need me for something. Something important, that is. I’ll leave some of my guards outside the door,” she says meaningfully, and then gazes around at the Angels. “It was interesting meeting you. Don’t do anything stupid. Or at least call me before you do.” She chuckles, turns and walks over to the door, and leaves.

Teraza turns back to Six. “The problem with the Taint is that it seems to have a somewhat arbitrary effect on people. And the whole issue of carrying it with one does happen, but rarely. The Ghaash’kala are mostly wrong in their ideas about it, but then their approach is a philosophical one, though they describe it in material terms. They’re a little … rigid … in their thinking.” Six nods. “I noticed that,” he says, and then glances at Gareth, adding, “Not too surprising, considering their link to the Silver Flame.”

For the better part of an hour, Sora Teraza continues to chat with the group about their experiences, and sharing some of hers in the Demon Wastes. She seems genuinely curious about the Angels and gives the impression of quite enjoying the chance to talk with well-traveled people who have had interesting and unique experiences. Her own stories are singular enough, including things like being mistaken (temporarily) by a band of Carrion Tribe barbarians as their hag patroness, having to battle a number of strange creatures, and seeing – but not entering – both Ashtakala, the last citadel of the Lords of Dust, and the Lair of the Keeper.

Finally, Teraza (apparently reluctantly) says, “I should leave you now, since I have some work as well. I will have you shown to your rooms. You will be safe here, though I suggest not wandering around. I also suggest leaving early tomorrow for Mordain’s Hall. It is close to three hundred miles from here. I will try to find you adequate directions and a map. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Having no requests, the Angels follow her to the door, where she hands them over to a waiting guard of gnolls and ogres. They escort the Angels in a different direction to the one they came from, leading them deeper into the complex, till they quickly end up in a large dead-end hallway, which has five rooms opening up off it. Each is small and sparsely furnished, and can hold two people. “Food and drink will be sent,” says one of the gnolls, and then the guards leave, though two ogres and four gnolls remain behind at the doorway ending the hallway. With nothing else to do, the Angels settle down to rest and talk, mostly consisting of relating to Six the nature of his kidnapping and what happened afterwards, and a discussion about the hags and what Nameless knows of Mordain.

There are only two times that someone visits the Angels during the evening and following night. The first is when their food arrives, which turns out to be quite good, causing Nameless to have to request an appropriately rotten food for his idiosyncratic palate. The second is more interesting.

Shortly before the Angels are about to pack up for the night, they hear voices at the end of the hallway, and the guards let a single individual through. As she glides towards them, the Angels see that it is an elf-maiden, the most beautiful that any of them have ever seen. A cascade of midnight hair frames her snow-white face and perfect features, the most distinctive aspect of which are a pair of gleaming blue eyes. While even he is not immune to the effects of the glamer, Nameless sees the multiple magical auras on her equipment, as well as faint illusion and transmutation covering her form, and as she reaches them, he says, “Sora Katra, I presume.”

“Yes,” she replies, in a voice that blends honey and song, and then glances around the group. “It is a pleasure to meet you all.” Though all of them know she is a hag beneath the illusion, each of the Angels momentarily feels a surge of pleasure, as if she had pronounced the finest and most heartfelt compliments that they had ever received.* “May I sit?” she asks, causing a couple of the Angels to hurriedly usher her to a seat. “Thank you. I hope the accommodations have not distressed you too much.”

“Not at all,” replies Korm, even before he realized he was doing so.

“That’s good. I would have hated to be considered a bad hostess, though I was not here when you arrived.” Gareth nods involuntarily, and even as he tells himself that she is just being courteous at best and more likely seeking to manipulate them in some way, emotionally he cannot help appreciating how sincere** she is.

Sora Katra spends a couple of minutes exchanging polite conversation, each of which only underlines the effect her presence has on them, seeming to the hearers as if the simple courtesies and platitudes were an expression of the deepest interest, fascination and good regard towards them. Though the Angels –and especially Nameless – remain aware of all that they know of the hags, especially Katra herself, and her words do not sway them to full acceptance of her pretended form and nature, it is a constant struggle to overcome the words’ effects.

Eventually, she says what each of them has been half expecting – “So tell me, besides this visit to Mordain that you are planning, are you engaged on any other business?” Luna rolls her eyes, thinking _Why do all the evil so-and-so’s want us to work for them?_ Then Katra turns and looks at her and the shifter feels momentarily embarrassed for the thought.

“Nothing particular right now,” says Nameless politely, “But we always have a number of things we’re engaged in.” Katra nods, causing him to think, _She really is a great listener!_ “I understand,” she says, “And the reason I’ve asked, as I’m sure you have guessed, is because I wondered if you might consider working for me. And my sisters.”

“Before I answer,” says Gareth, “I would like to try something, if you don’t mind.” 

“What did you have in mind?” asks Katra, gazing into his eyes.

“I simply want to _detect_ if you are evil or not,” says Gareth, already half-regretting the statement, and slightly distracted by the manner in which the light catches her eyes. _I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that blue._ “Nothing invasive,” he hastens to add.

“All right,” she nods and smiles, almost making him blush. Gareth focuses and, after a few seconds, _detect_s not only an evil aura but an overwhelmingly powerful one. _Well, it’s worse because she’s an outsider_, he tells himself, half tempted to not mention it, but then he forces himself to say, “I am sorry. I cannot work for you.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that,” says Sora Katra, disappointment shining in her eyes, and sighs softly, causing Gareth to momentarily feel just the slightest bit more wretched than he had when Lalia rejected his offer of marriage. From across the room, each of the other Angels momentarily glares at Gareth, before thinking, _What the hell am I doing?_

Turning to the others, Sora Katra continues, “People with your unique abilities are rare and difficult to find, and considering your activities in Sharn, you and I share some interests. You have had issues with the Boromars, I believe.”

“Yes,” says Six, before asking suddenly, “Do you have any connections with Daask?” Though he is certain she does, the warforged is curious whether she will admit to it or not. The hag-turned-elf looks at him silently for a moment, and says, “Yes. We have some connections.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” continues Six, “Why? You are far away in Droaam and have many other things to occupy you, I’m sure.” Sora Katra smiles and shrugs. “Everybody needs a hobby.” As she continues, Six thinks, _Yes, that makes sense._ “Seeing that the Boromars are bothering you, perhaps I could help you deal with them in some way? I am not suggesting you work for me, but we might work towards the same end. And there might be other areas in which that could happen.”

Despite his immediate surge of interest, Nameless fights it down, knowing that it is mostly due to her abilities. “Perhaps,” he says cautiously, “But the Boromars are a minor annoyance at best, and we have more important things to do. If we happen to be passing by and do have a reason to take them out, we will, but I’d rather not commit to such an endeavor.” _Please don’t mind_, he thinks, before he can stop himself. 

“All right. But let me know if I can help you in any way.”

“Actually,” says Six, reaching into a pouch and producing a notebook. As he leafs through it, he says, “I believe there is one small thing that you probably know about. There was a bugbear named … let me see … ah, here … Dhurmhaac, whose son Rhash’mhaac was killed by members of Daask. He may be dead by now, but if not, I’d like to know, and who killed his son.”

“Interesting,” says Katra. “I actually do not know about that. Being this far from Sharn, I only hear about the major things going on there. But I will see what I can do.” She looks around and says, “But now I should leave and let you rest.” As she rises, the Angels reflexively do so as well. Smiling around at them, Katra says, “It was a pleasure to meet you. I will probably not be able to meet you when you leave tomorrow, but I sincerely hope to meet you again, and I would definitely like to see you again. And best of luck with Mordain. You will need it.”

The Angels murmur a few farewell comments and then Sora Katra leaves them. As she glides away from them, she pauses to bestow one last glittering smile in their direction and then continue away, somehow managing to make the process of walking along the corridor seem like the most seductive of actions.

The Angels silently watch her, and then Luna quietly says, “You know, I don’t swing that way, but if I did, I would so tap that ass!”

“Yeah!” chorus five voices, one emerging from the scabbard behind Gareth’s back. The Angels turn to look at each other, shifter, alienist, orc, warforged and human exchanging surprised glances. 

“Okay – _now_ I feel dirty!” 


* That’s what Charisma 30 and a +49 Diplomacy bonus will net you
** 82 on her Bluff check


----------



## Furby076

Solarious said:
			
		

> Don't you worry my dearies, you're in good hands. I was there as soon as I saw it, and your future is... bright and cheerful! Expect many upgrades. You'll all be deadlier than ever.
> 
> I weep for the poor, poor NPCs that shilsen has to throw into your slaughterhouse of a game. I truly do.





Gareth, Korm and Six(maybe) are the only 3 of the group who don't want augmentations. Gareth would absolutely abhore it.  For him it's all about the natural - especially since unnatural things like that would hurt his social graces and that is the biggest part of the character - more then combat.


----------



## Solarious

AviLazar said:
			
		

> Gareth, Korm and Six(maybe) are the only 3 of the group who don't want augmentations. Gareth would absolutely abhore it.  For him it's all about the natural - especially since unnatural things like that would hurt his social graces and that is the biggest part of the character - more then combat.



 Aww, ye of little faith. I wub you all so very much, and I wouldn't do anything to you that you wouldn't want. No, really. 

See for yourself when you have your next session and check out my suggestions.


----------



## Furby076

Solarious said:
			
		

> Aww, ye of little faith. I wub you all so very much, and I wouldn't do anything to you that you wouldn't want. No, really.
> 
> See for yourself when you have your next session and check out my suggestions.




For all the screwing with us, etc, I know shil wouldn't do anything that would kill our character concepts. It would make it not fun for us, and thusly not fun for him.  He would do something to slowly torture us.

Now given that I have felt most of his love for the past two years, and Nameless is just starting to get some of his love, I think I am the most safe of the group.  Korm is probably the most screwed over.


----------



## Vorput

::chuckles::  Great update.

I forget- did the angels suffer any lingering effects of the wastes after they teleported out?

Edit:  Shilsen, another question as well.  In your game- what mechanic would allow the players to not be as affected by Sora Katra?  High Wisdom/Sense Motive? High Diplomacy themselves?  Anything...?  Nothing jumps out as me as a check against cha/diplmacy- hence why i'm asking how you'd handle it!


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> ::chuckles::  Great update.
> 
> I forget- did the angels suffer any lingering effects of the wastes after they teleported out?




Not that Shilsen has mentioned to us...


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> ::chuckles::  Great update.




Thanks. It was amusing during the session to have her say things and then add the little bit about how the PCs took it. Soon a couple of the players were doing so themselves.



> I forget- did the angels suffer any lingering effects of the wastes after they teleported out?




As Rackhir said, not that they noticed.



> Edit:  Shilsen, another question as well.  In your game- what mechanic would allow the players to not be as affected by Sora Katra?  High Wisdom/Sense Motive? High Diplomacy themselves?  Anything...?  Nothing jumps out as me as a check against cha/diplmacy- hence why i'm asking how you'd handle it!




I follow the basic rule that NPCs cannot influence PC attitudes through Diplomacy (DMG, pg. 128). Instead, what I do is roleplay the more dilpomatic NPCs as more persuasive, and leave it up to the PCs to respond as they wish. Here, simply because her Diplomacy was so godawfully high, I added the flavor angle where her speaking directly to someone would momentarily create a favorable impression, without actually forcing the PCs to go along with it. The compromise worked well, I think.

It's going to take a few days for the next update, since I'm going to be focusing rather on all the nice things I'll be giving the PCs when we play on Saturday. If you want a little more of my stuff to tide you over, you can check out a semi-fictional piece (semi, because it does apply to a campaign where I run Cedric as a PC) I wrote regarding Cedric's achievement of paladinhood. It's in the World's Worst Paladin thread I have in my sig, and the link to the piece itself is here.


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> I follow the basic rule that NPCs cannot influence PC attitudes through Diplomacy (DMG, pg. 128). Instead, what I do is roleplay the more dilpomatic NPCs as more persuasive, and leave it up to the PCs to respond as they wish. Here, simply because her Diplomacy was so godawfully high, I added the flavor angle where her speaking directly to someone would momentarily create a favorable impression, without actually forcing the PCs to go along with it. The compromise worked well, I think.QUOTE]
> Yea it made for tricky RPing. While most of the group do not care about alignment Gareth obviously does, so yea for him it was about "yea she is nice" followed by "eww i feel icky for thinking that." It's like looking at a hot 17 year old and thinking dirty thoughts, then realizing you are 22+.


----------



## shilsen

We played today, and I dispensed many benefits and sorrows  The suggestions which were made on the thread I'd put up on the General RPG Discussion board were very handy, so thanks to all who contributed. 

I'm still busy as heck, but I'm hoping to have the next update up around mid-week.


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> We played today, and I dispensed many benefits and sorrows  The suggestions which were made on the thread I'd put up on the General RPG Discussion board were very handy, so thanks to all who contributed.
> 
> I'm still busy as heck, but I'm hoping to have the next update up around mid-week.





I am not happy with two of Gareth's changes. I want my money back.


----------



## Solarious

But didn't you like being a Paladin again?


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> But didn't you like being a Paladin again?



 You know what ingrates players tend to be!

Let me put it this way. After I told the players that their PCs were permanently losing 2 pts of Con, but would now have a permanent +4 enhancement bonus to all six stats, +4 resistance to saves, +4 enhancement bonus to natural armor, and +3 deflection bonus to AC, Rackhir complained about the negative to Con 

On a related note, considering all the stuff they have, I'm wondering about where my PCs fall on the power level scale in comparison to most of those being played by others out there. So I've started a thread about it here:

http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=193056

Pop in and comment and vote.


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> You know what ingrates players tend to be!
> 
> Let me put it this way. After I told the players that their PCs were permanently losing 2 pts of Con, but would now have a permanent +4 enhancement bonus to all six stats, +4 resistance to saves, +4 enhancement bonus to natural armor, and +3 deflection bonus to AC, Rackhir complained about the negative to Con




He stopped complaining after the +spell casting bonus.



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> On a related note, considering all the stuff they have, I'm wondering about where my PCs fall on the power level scale in comparison to most of those being played by others out there. So I've started a thread about it here:
> http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=193056
> 
> Pop in and comment and vote.




Eh, the power level scale doesn't work too well for your campaign. First off, your NPCs all have elite array of stats, and all have 75% of max health (where the MM's give half).  Second, your mobs are particularly nasty.  We have always been up and above the "traditional" power scale, and you manage to "kill" one of us at least every other adventure.

Gareth is not happy about the green patch and the bumps - Gareth's character is about the diplomacy, the look of things, and the social aspect...so that may not bode well.  The other group members are less caring what others think(hence Gareth has a 26 diplomacy, and the other group members have none).

But se la vi'.


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:
			
		

> He stopped complaining after the +spell casting bonus.




Which is why I'm suspicious now 



> Eh, the power level scale doesn't work too well for your campaign. First off, your NPCs all have elite array of stats, and all have 75% of max health (where the MM's give half).




Actually, all NPCs with class levels in PC classes are supposed to have elite stats, which is precisely what I use. When I use creatures without class levels or with NPC classes (warrior, adept, etc.), they don't get elite stats. Pure core rules. Most of my creatures do get 75%. It's effectively the same as using the hit pt rolling system I use for you guys.



> Second, your mobs are particularly nasty.  We have always been up and above the "traditional" power scale, and you manage to "kill" one of us at least every other adventure.




As I've always told you guys, I'll adapt to the PCs to keep the combats challenging. If the PCs were at closer to core levels, I'd be running NPCs who were much less deadly. There's a lot of variance possible for any given monster and CR. You can have a CR 2 orc fighter-type who's attacking at +8 and doing 2d4+6 dmg, and you can have a CR 2 orc fighter-type who's attacking at +13 and doing 2d6+13 dmg. Where I put the marker on the sliding scale depends to some degree on how tough you guys are. The aim is to challenge the PCs, after all. 



> Gareth is not happy about the green patch and the bumps - Gareth's character is about the diplomacy, the look of things, and the social aspect...so that may not bode well.  The other group members are less caring what others think(hence Gareth has a 26 diplomacy, and the other group members have none).




Actually, after the stat boosts, a couple of them are in the +1 to +3 range 



> But se la vi'.




C'est la vie - you philistine, you !


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> Which is why I'm suspicious now




Why? I registered my complaint (+4 to 2 irrelevant stats isn't as good as +2 to a vitally important stat), made my point and it's not like there was a point in belaboring it any further.

Personally, I'm not wow'ed by the "upgrades" since essentially they come down to further handwaving of things (now buff spells/items are almost totally irrelevant). Only the AC buffs actually represented an improvement and IME our ACs are almost irrelevant since very, very few of Shil's NPCs have trouble hitting us even when fully buffed (another reason I wasn't especially happy with the loss of Con).


----------



## Seekerofskill

AviLazar said:
			
		

> Gareth is not happy about the green patch and the bumps - Gareth's character is about the diplomacy, the look of things, and the social aspect...so that may not bode well.  The other group members are less caring what others think(hence Gareth has a 26 diplomacy, and the other group members have none).



But to be effective at diplomacy, Gareth needs to have a perspective greater than me, myself and I.


----------



## Solarious

It seems that we were so successful at helping you guys become monsters, Shilsen is now asking for more adv... _suggestions_ in which to make this game the best one possible.

Now, Nameless, Gareth, Luna, Korm, and Six, I want you all to remember this. I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm just going to make your gaming experience a more fulfilling one. I'm *helping you*, see?


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Personally, I'm not wow'ed by the "upgrades" since essentially they come down to further handwaving of things (now buff spells/items are almost totally irrelevant). Only the AC buffs actually represented an improvement and IME our ACs are almost irrelevant since very, very few of Shil's NPCs have trouble hitting us even when fully buffed (another reason I wasn't especially happy with the loss of Con).




That's a little simplistic. You're simply comparing the benefits against situations when the PCs are totally buffed and not considering all the different contexts in which the above will kick in. The biggest advantage is that the PCs are pre-buffed all the time. Get jumped while buying a newspaper in Sharn? Get attacked while traveling? Have someone you trust try to betray you? Get jumped in the middle of the night or when breaking camp? You're pre-buffed. Situations like Nameless and Six getting mugged, being attacked by River Snake barbarians in the Shadow Marches, running into Fang Dragons in the Labyrinth, what happened to Gareth in the writeup below, etc. would all have gone very differently with even half the benefits I handed out.

And while the boosts to AC would matter hugely in such situations, they still matter when PCs are buffed up. The PCs rarely use deflection bonuses and never as high as what you got. And while they get hit all the time, a lot of those are hits that succeed by a point or two, esp. on iterative attacks, and the boosts would be the difference between a hit and a miss and esp. between a confirmed critical and a non-confirmed one.

Dammit, man - these are the kinds of things a 25 Int should be able to work out!



			
				Solarious said:
			
		

> It seems that we were so successful at helping you guys become monsters, Shilsen is now asking for more adv... suggestions in which to make this game the best one possible.
> 
> Now, Nameless, Gareth, Luna, Korm, and Six, I want you all to remember this. I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm just going to make your gaming experience a more fulfilling one. I'm *helping you*, see?




As Solarious mentioned, I've started another thread here to throw around some ideas for what the Angels are getting involved with next. 

And that being said, on to the next update. I'll try for another on the weekend.


* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, the blind hag Sora Teraza meets the Angels before they leave. “There is little more I can do now,” she says, “But here are some things that should help you.” She opens a crude map and indicates their position and the route they should take. “Once you leave the city, head west until you reach the end of the hills, and then swing around them, passing through the edge of the Watching Woods, and head northwest until you reach these low hills around Mordain’s Hall.” Teraza hands over the map and also gives Nameless a ring with the seal of the Daughters of Sora Kell. “This will ensure you safe passage through the lands close to the city. Once you are further away,” she shrugs, “You will have to fend for yourselves. This is a land of clans and warlords, and while they owe us fealty, we control little of what they do in their lands.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” says Nameless. “For anyone to interrupt our travel, they’ll have to be very fast. And a little suicidal.”

Sora Teraza smiles. “I’m sure you’re correct. Nevertheless, be careful. These guards,” she indicates a small group of very well armed and armored ogres, “Will escort you through the city. And lastly, before you go, I shall send Mordain a message so he expects you. Nobody visits him, and he doesn’t care to be disturbed, I believe, so a little information is in order.” She casts a _sending_ and says, “Sending you travelers with news of great import. Includes expert on daelkyr. Might be helpful to your work and they need information. Apologies for disturbance.” She remains silent for a few moments, and then finally says, “He replied. All he said was ‘all right.’ That will have to do.”

Luna snorts. “Expert on the daelkyr? When Nameless came back from Xoriat he said it was purple! And that you need to be there. Expert, my ass!”

The other Angels chuckle and Sora Teraza smiles again. “I thought I should mention it so that Mordain might be somewhat interested in you. Hopefully it will help.” Then she takes a step back and makes a short bow to the Angels. “It was a pleasure meeting you. Please stop here on your return from Mordain and let me know what he tells you and if I can help in some manner with this situation.” The Angels thank her in turn, and then leave, with the ogres taking up positions before and behind them.

The group proceeds down from the court of the Daughters, which – as they had already surmised – is built out of the remnants of an ancient Dhakaani palace that was carved into the mountain, and descend into the city beneath. As they walk through it, they see that its inhabitants are the various types of creatures they saw in the hags’ court and a few others. There are a number of orcs and half-orcs here, especially around a large building they pass which flies the colors of House Tharashk. More giants are in evidence here too, though they are still relatively rare. At one point, the group finds themselves watched by a hooded figure, the soft hissing and writhing movement beneath whose cowl identifies the medusa. In a couple of places, they pass trolls armored and accoutered like the ones that accompanied Sora Maenya, which seem to enforce what order the city has, assisted by gnoll enforcers. 

Once they emerge into the outskirts of the city, the druids summon two _phantom stag_s each and the Angels mount and gallop off, riding one each with Luna perched on Korm’s shoulder in the form of an eagle. With their enhanced powers, the stags travel four times as fast as the lightest of horses, and swiftly leave the city behind.

As they travel for the next day and a half, the Angels find that Droaam consists almost purely of wilderness, interspersed with small camps and settlements, few of which are any larger than a hamlet. Each of them, whether it is a small village or a few tents pitched beside a hill, has fortifications of some kind around it. A few creatures do try to intercept the travelers, but with their speed, and the magical stags being unaffected by low undergrowth and able to _air walk_ for a few seconds at a time, the Angels are able to avoid them easily. Despite traveling through the dreaded ‘nation of monsters,’ the journey is remarkably boring by the Angels’ standards. But only to them…

* * * * *
The aged gnoll shifted uncomfortably and eyed some of the playing pups grumpily. He had resigned himself to being too old to be a warrior, but being relegated to watching the children was truly an insult. Not only that, these brats were loud and irritating and cared nothing for the exploits of one whose deeds the bards had howled once upon a …

“…tell us, grandfather!”

The gnoll growled, but his eyes softened slightly. Well, some of them cared. “But you’ve heard the story of the Flying Riders of Doom so many times, Hrortak,” he said, looking at the tallest of the three pups curled up near his paws.

“Yes, but I wanna hear it again. And they haven’t!” The two younger pups nodded vigorously.

The old gnoll sighed. At least it would while away the time. “Very well,” he said, before mock-growling, “And no interruptions.” He looked up at the moons slowly emerging in the early evening sky, and began.

“It was an evening like this one, years ago. The pack was much bigger then, with over a hundred hunters. Many feared the Red Slayers. I was leading a large warband back from a raid when our scouts said they saw four riders, who came on steeds that ran faster than the eagles fly. I scoffed, but then they showed me. From across the plains they came, rushing across them like the wrath of the Shadow, faster than a horse can run or the falcon fly.”

“Still, we were the Red Slayers, and they were few. I could see they would have to pass through the woods nearby, so I set an ambush. I, and the fiercest warriors, hid ourselves among the bushes and trees, weapons in hand. Behind us, I had others wait, with ropes stretched across the path, ready to pull them up and knock the riders down. And we waited.”

“In minutes they neared us, and then I saw they rode not horses, but giant stags, larger than ones we had ever seen even in the Dark Wood, with eyes of flame and hooves of fire, that scorched the earth below them. Still, I did not fear. Nearer and nearer they came, and I gripped my axe, ready to leap up and slay them.”

“And then they saw us. I don’t know how, since we were hidden well, where nothing natural – especially at that speed – would know we were there. The rider in the lead was a huge orc, large almost as an ogre, with horns growing from his head, and he bore a demon-bird on his shoulder, with black scales and a lizard’s tail. It was the demon that screamed its warning first, I think. Still, I was ready, and I shouted our warcry and leapt up. So did the warriors with me. Those behind pulled the ropes taut.”

“And then the stags leapt, and the Riders of Doom simply rose into the air, above our axes and over our ropes. Flames flew from their hooves and burned the air as they rose through it like it was solid ground. I could do nothing but stand and watch. And as we did, I saw each of the Riders. I shall never forget them.”

“First came the horned orc and his demon. Behind him was a human, or what I thought was one. But as he rode above us he raised a hand in mockery, and it was not a hand! It was a tentacle, green and yellow, dripping slime that withered the plants where it fell. And when he turned his face, there was none, only a dark hole where his face should be. Third was a metal man, one of those the humans call warforged, but he was not like they normally are. He had no arms either, instead having streams of metal chains, that clanked and clattered as he rode, and whose spikes cut the sides of the stag he rode, but he cared not. And last of all rode an armored creature, who was human below the neck, but who was wolf above, like those of the Dark Pack, but larger and more fierce, with silver fur, and silver fire spewing from his mouth.” 

“But, grandfather,” interrupted Hrortak, “You never told me of the wolf-headed man before and …”

“Silence!” growled the old gnoll. “Let me tell the story! And the Riders rose into the air, and the demon-bird screamed at us and flapped its wings, and when it did, the forest rose around us, bushes wrapping around us, and trees rising forth to attack us. And the stags and their riders rose into the sky and disappeared. That was the day we saw the Riders of Doom and knew that the moons had turned against the Red Slayers.”

* * * * *
“Stop!” says Nameless urgently, causing the others to command their stags, which stop instantly. The alienist points at the barren land that lies before them and the single, squat and wide dark building that crouches ominously three miles away. “There’s a magical wall a hundred feet away. With lots of auras.” He rides closer slowly and his glowing blue eyes scan the invisible barrier for a few seconds. “It goes up eighty feet and then runs horizontally, so it’s like a roof too. Mostly moderate dweomers – abjuration, divination, conjuration, evocation, transmutation, and multiple ones of some – and one strong evocation.”

“Is it physical?” asks Six.

“I don’t think so.” Nameless dismounts, picks up a small stone, and tosses it through. The others simply see it arc through the air and hit the ground. “Hmm – there was a flare of multiple auras when it went through. Maybe I just knocked on his door.” The Angels wait for a few seconds, but there are no signs of them being noticed. 

Luna, having shifted back to her normal form, says, “Maybe I should fly over to the house and drop a message. Or to one of those. They’re probably guards.” She indicates two creatures that the Angels have noticed, each about a quarter of a mile away. Though they are too far away to decipher details, one is seemingly humanoid in shape, as tall as and probably wider than an ogre. The other is shorter and much longer, giving the impression of multiple limbs and an undulating body. Both of them are depicting an elliptical path that stretches a few hundred feet, traveling it over and over again, slowly and patiently but without pause. Nameless agrees and writes a short note, that Luna (having turned into an eagle) picks up in her talons and flies away with. 

As she leaves, Gareth says, “Maybe we should test the barrier as well, in case we have to travel through it.” Nameless nods, and then smiles. “Good idea. Go ahead. You’re always telling us about how the favor of the Flame protects you.” Gareth gives him a dirty look and then dismounts, explaining, “Just in case it _dispel_s the stag.” He then leads the magical mount behind him and walks up to the barrier. Muttering a prayer, he steps through. Nameless sees another of the flares of magic, and the stag disappears as it tries to enter. Gareth is unaffected, and after offering silent thanks to the Flame, he continues inwards.

Luna, meanwhile, has been soaring towards the humanoid creature. Nearing it, she realizes that it resembles a ten foot tall giant, with disproportionately massive arms. All four of them, that is, since two emerge from its sides. It is clearly constructed, with different parts of its form being of different colors and shapes, and clear seams and joins where they were put together into the composite whole. It is naked, but lacks any sexual characteristics to differentiate its gender. The four arms end in massive iron fists, more like mallets than actual hands. Luna, flying overhead, wonders whether it’s even capable of picking up the little note, but she swoops down nevertheless. Passing through the roof of the magical barrier has no effect that she can make out, and she drops the note from twenty feet above the creature’s head. The note bounces off its head, but the only response is for it to glare up with what Luna now sees are three large opaque eyes that make up the only real feature in a blank and featureless head, and then smash the four metal fists together overhead with a clang.

_Idiot!_ Even as she considers swooping down to pick up the note, Luna is distracted by frenzied motion back where she left her friends. Gareth has proceeded about three hundred feet or so from the edge of the barrier, when there is a momentary rumbling and the ground explodes beside him. Bursting through is a huge armor-plated creature with a roughly conical head ending in a gaping maw. Gareth recognizes it instantly as a bulette, but what really surprises him is the sight of its four thick, powerful legs. Each is evidently constructed of solid iron, with articulated joints, large metal claws, and what seem to be giant metal nails that attach them to the beast’s flesh. Arcane symbols are carved into each of the legs.

Not that Gareth has time to wonder at or appreciate the craftsmanship of the creature looming above him, as its jaws snap shut on his shoulder and left arm, almost crushing the magical armor and flesh beneath. He screams in pain and hacks at it, and then finds to his further surprise that the Endless Blade only does limited damage to its thick hide. Even as he is striking at it, a flaming bead from Nameless, who has reacted as soon as the bulette appeared, streaks by and explodes into a _fireball_ placed with pinpoint accuracy, blasting the creature with flame without threatening Gareth. In theory, that is. As the flames envelop the bulette, they cause no visible damage. Instead, the shallow wound inflicted by the sword closes and heals. 

“Get me out of here!” Gareth commands the Endless Blade, which responds promptly, _fly_ing Gareth swiftly back towards his companions, skimming the ground in an attempt to cover as much ground as possible. As they rush back, the Endless Blade grumbles, “What the hell are you running away for, you wuss? You’re just scratched!” Gareth ignores the sword and shouts, “Nameless! Your spell _healed_ it! What kind of bulette is it?” Hearing a roar, Gareth looks back as the creature rushes after him with incredible speed. Reaching him, the bulette displays another strange ability, belching forth a cloud of green gas, which envelops Gareth and part of itself. Despite his divinely-aided fortitude, Gareth cannot fully resist the poisonous vapors, and coughs painfully as they further weaken his already weakened form.

Outside the barrier, Nameless’ frowning brow clears as he sees the noxious cloud. “I’ve got it! It’s just like an iron golem – healed by fire and able to breath forth poison like a _cloudkill_. It’s a bulette melded with an iron golem. Fascinating!” Korm, standing close to the barrier, looks back and says, “Yeah, yeah – how do we affect it?”

“Use lightning-type magic. And your sword and Six’s chain should work fine.” 

“Good to know,” says Six. “Let’s see if I can get Gareth out.” He commands his stag to gallop forward, but as it hits the barrier, it disappears. Six tumbles forward, lands on his feet, and runs forward. 

Even as he does so, Gareth emerges from the cloud of vapor, again being propelled by the sword. Poisoned and wounded, he looks on the verge of collapse, something which even the Blade notices. “Okay, I take it back,” it says, hardly sounding apologetic to be doing so, “That thing f*cked you up!” Six skids to a stop, chuckling at the comment despite the situation, as Gareth and the sword shoot by him. As he turns to follow them, Gareth reaches the barrier. And smashes headlong into a _wall of stone_ that pops into existence, between him and the barrier. As he tumbles to the ground and Six stops hurriedly, there is another roar behind them, as the bulette emerges from the cloud it created.

Before it can reach them, the center of the _wall_ glows green for a moment and then disappears, Nameless having _disintegrate_d it. Six and Gareth rush through, only seconds before the bulette smashes into what remains, shattering it in its fury before rushing through the magical barrier after them. That is just enough time for Nameless again, and he quickly envelops it in an _acid fog_.

By the time it emerges, Korm and Six are waiting for it. Gareth also emerges seconds later from the _cocoon_ Korm has placed him in, and the three of them quickly cut the creature down, but not before all have been wounded, especially the unfortunate Gareth*. Luna, grumbling at the fact that the others slew the bulette before she had a chance to get involved, heals him again. “You really need to stop getting chewed up,” she says when he emerges from the next _cocoon_, causing the Blade to chortle, “Well, he did run away as quick as he could – or as quick as I could get his ass out of there. But, man oh man, his ass really got chewed!”

Gareth scowls at the sword and says, “I did tell you I have an extradimensional space to put you in, didn’t I?”

“Everyone back up!” interrupts Nameless suddenly, having been warned by the spell that he casts daily to _anticipate teleportation_, and indicates a nearby spot. “Something is _teleport_ing in there. One creature. Small size.”

The arriving creature is a three foot tall figure, resembling a miniature devil wreathed in flame, with a gleeful expression and its two hands clasped in front of its chest. The expression changes quickly to surprise, as it sees the five figures standing in a rough semi-circle waiting for it, and then fear. It quickly opens its hands, revealing a flaming bead. “_Delayed blast fireball!_” shouts Nameless, hurling a volley of _magic missile_s. His companions follow suit, blasting the mephit out of existence before it can scream. As it falls, the bead rolls out on the ground. Already having spread out, the Angels backpedal hurriedly, making it out of the blast radius before the bead explodes into a huge magical blast. 

“And an empowered _delayed blast fireball_ at that!” confirms Nameless. The alienist then turns to face towards the distant building and shouts, hoping that there might be something which lets Mordain hear them. “Mordain! Sora Teraza sent us. We are not here to waste your time.”

“What the hell?” ejaculates an irritated Luna, “Wasn’t this Mordain idiot told we were coming? What’s the problem?”

“Who knows?” says Korm. “This guy is supposedly…”

Nameless interrupts again. “Someone else is on the way. One creature again, but this time about our size.” “This is getting _really_ old!” grumbles Luna, as the Angels again assume ready positions.

The figure that appears is much more singular than his predecessor. He appears to be an ancient elf, completely hairless, with none on his head, not even eyebrows or eyelashes. The skin is pulled incredibly tight over his head and face, giving it a skull-like appearance, albeit one very different from the cosmetic and necromantic treatments of the Aereni elves. He wears a drab multi-pocketed sleeveless jacket over an equally drab short-sleeved shirt, and below it, incongruously, knee-length shorts of the same unprepossessing color and comfortable open-toed sandals. What especially attract the Angels’ attention are his two arms. The right arm is thin and bony, as befits his species and age, but multiple small, purple tentacles, each about a foot in length, extending from below the wrist in a fringe. His left arm is significantly and disproportionately thicker, rather befitting someone of Korm’s size, and the flesh on it is a combination of intermingled silver scales and green muscular skin.

The figure’s eyes glow with the same blue light as Nameless’, and he glances around the group, with no indication of alarm at the raised weapons and hands raises in preparation for spellcasting. 

The alienist, noting the multiple auras, which wreathe the elf and his clothing in an arcane tapestry that dwarfs what the Angels bear or what Nameless had found on the hags, speaks quickly. “Mordain, I presume?”

The skull-visage turns to gaze at him and then, slowly, the lips move. The flesh on the elf’s face doesn’t shift at all, giving it the impression of being a carved, mobile statue, with only the area around the lips moving. The voice that emerges is harsh and raspy, giving the impression of not just extreme age but that it is one which sees little use. 

“Yes. I am Mordain.”


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> That's a little simplistic. You're simply comparing the benefits against situations when the PCs are totally buffed and not considering all the different contexts in which the above will kick in. The biggest advantage is that the PCs are pre-buffed all the time. Get jumped while buying a newspaper in Sharn? Get attacked while traveling? Have someone you trust try to betray you? Get jumped in the middle of the night or when breaking camp? You're pre-buffed. Situations like Nameless and Six getting mugged, being attacked by River Snake barbarians in the Shadow Marches, running into Fang Dragons in the Labyrinth, what happened to Gareth in the writeup below, etc. would all have gone very differently with even half the benefits I handed out.
> 
> And while the boosts to AC would matter hugely in such situations, they still matter when PCs are buffed up. The PCs rarely use deflection bonuses and never as high as what you got. And while they get hit all the time, a lot of those are hits that succeed by a point or two, esp. on iterative attacks, and the boosts would be the difference between a hit and a miss and esp. between a confirmed critical and a non-confirmed one.
> 
> Dammit, man - these are the kinds of things a 25 Int should be able to work out!




I've never claimed to have a 25 int.

In any case as you said above



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> As I've always told you guys, I'll adapt to the PCs to keep the combats challenging. If the PCs were at closer to core levels, I'd be running NPCs who were much less deadly.




So how these bonuses would have affected past situations is irrelevant, since you're going to account for them in the NPC you'll have facing us in the future. Oh, I'm sure you'll toss the occasional "Three 2nd lvl Muggers attack you. And are almost instantaniously vaporized." for the sake of verisimilitude, but I doubt there's going to be any change in the rate we're handing in swashbuckling cards to stave off a death, just because we have a few bonuses we didn't have all the time before. Especially given that we all have the exact same bonuses.


----------



## Furby076

Seekerofskill said:
			
		

> But to be effective at diplomacy, Gareth needs to have a perspective greater than me, myself and I.




That's irrelevant, and actually quite untrue.  Gareth does care, and shows this, about others. The reason it is also irrelevant is because of the game mechanics.  Gareth can turn hostile to neutral (indifferent i believe) in the middle of combat by taking 10.

So I am not sure where you are starting that gareth only cares about himself, not to forget it has nothing to do with my original statement.


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:
			
		

> That's irrelevant, and actually quite untrue.  Gareth does care, and shows this, about others. The reason it is also irrelevant is because of the game mechanics.  Gareth can turn hostile to neutral (indifferent i believe) in the middle of combat by taking 10.
> 
> So I am not sure where you are starting that gareth only cares about himself, not to forget it has nothing to do with my original statement.




I'm guessing Seekerofskill's point (correct me if I'm wrong, Seeker) was that Gareth often comes across as fixated on his personal needs and beliefs, as well as being somewhat intolerant, and one needs at least some empathy and understanding of others' perspectives to be really diplomatic. So he was speaking directly to your comment about Gareth being all about diplomacy. No need to get the chainmail knickers in a bunch 

And it isn't irrelevant because you know I use circumstance bonuses to Diplomacy checks (and a lot of other things). Gareth's self-presentation would matter when making a Diplomacy check, since it could make the result more or less effective. Speaking of which, it would really be interesting to see Gareth try a Diplomacy check in a fight some time. Of course, even a great roll would be of limited utility since it's (a) going to change the recipient's reaction towards Gareth and not necessarily the entire group of PCs, and (b) lots of enemies who're in the middle of a fight and turned neutral or even friendly towards Gareth would say, "Listen, kid! I like you. Take me advice and get the hell out of here before you have to get hurt," and turn around and start kicking other PC ass. Diplomacy does not mind-affecting magic make.

Speaking of mind-affecting magic...

I got the next section done early, so here it is:

* * * * * * * * * *

The Fleshweaver glances around the area, eyes flickering over the corpse of the strangely constructed bulette and the scorched area that marks where the _delayed blast fireball_ carried by the unfortunate mephit had detonated. 

“Sora Teraza sent you a message on our behalf,” says Gareth, watching him warily. “We are here on a mission of some urgency.”

“Yes,” rasps Mordain, the tone dispassionate beneath its harshness, “I recall a message. I see you have slain one of my creatures.” The fingers of his right hand twitch and the fringe of slim tentacles encircling it waves. Unsure whether he is about to cast a spell, Nameless quickly says, “I have recently returned from Xoriat.”

Mordain’s hand and tentacles stop dead for a moment, and he looks quickly at Nameless. “Nobody … returns from – or goes to – Xoriat.” The alienist nods, but keeps the smirk that was about to appear off his face, “Nevertheless, that is what happened. I have studied Xoriat for long. I died recently, went to Xoriat instead of Dolurrh, and returned when my companions _reincarnate_d me. With some intriguing changes, such as this tentacle, and one potentially problematic one. Sora Teraza told us that you might be interested in hearing about it, and could possibly help shed some light on what happened.” Mordain looks at the tentacle and then asks, “Is that a graft?” Nameless shakes his head, while rolling up his sleeve to show how the tentacle grows out of his arm. “It is part of me.” The Fleshweaver says nothing, but simply steps closer to Nameless and looks him up and down. 

While he is doing so, Luna says quietly to the others, “Are you guys sure this is a good idea? Look at him – he’s seriously messed up. And look at these things he creates! That creature I flew over was some golem-thing with iron hands, and there’s this bulette with iron legs. Everything with metal hanging off it is wrong!” She pauses, looking puzzled for a moment as Korm emits a muffled snort, before noticing the person standing next to him. “Oh! Sorry, Six!”

“No problem,” says Six, as Mordain turns to the rest of the group. “I shall speak to you all,” the Fleshweaver says, “In my home.” He then turns to the dead bulette again and seems to concentrate for a few moments. Then he clicks his fingers. Almost instantly, there is a low rumbling and the corpse begins to shake. Dust rises around it, and the cadaver slowly begins to settle into the ground, which falls away below it. The source of the subsidence is quickly evident, as a number of creatures become visible around it. Though precise details are unclear, due to the dust and their position partly under the surface, the Angels see that they look like goblins that have undergone some modification. Their heads, whose eyes are large and an unvariegated gray, are squeezed down into their chests (similar to dolgrims, but further down, and consisting of only one head). Their arms have been replaced with thick, bonelike cutting blades, which are at least as long as they are tall. Two clamber over the bulette, revealing legs that are shorter and thicker than on a normal goblin, ending in large suckers. Within seconds, the creatures transport the corpse underground, leaving only a jagged hole.

“I will reuse the materials,” says Mordain, before turning to face the Angels. “You have some skill to have slain it.” Suddenly, he turns to Nameless. “What power of magic do you command?”

“Up to the sixth valence, though I have no facility with necromancy and illusion.”

“Interesting.” Mordain looks around the group again, and the Angels notice that within the glowing blue circles of the _arcane sight_ around his eyes, they are cold and gray, lizard-like in both their lack of feeling and in their unblinking nature. As his gaze passes over them, they feel as if they were being instantly appraised and weighed, like meat hanging before a particularly skilled butcher. 

“Interesting.”

* * *

A few seconds later, the Angels appear with the Fleshweaver inside a bare stone room. Nameless notes that while it seems outwardly empty, it is interlaced with multiple dweomers, which never touch the floor but run along the walls and ceiling, especially clustering around the door in a tight network. As Mordain walks up to the door, the auras part like a wind-blown web and the door opens. “Come,” he says.

The Angels follow him along a long corridor with multiple doors. Considering that this is the home of the Fleshweaver, certainly one of the strangest of spellcasters on Khorvaire and perhaps the most powerful arcanist, what they pass is strangely free of anything remarkable. There is some furniture, most of it clearly having seen much better days, but no slobbering monstrosities or malformed creatures stitched together by a madman are in existence. Only Nameless sees the various magical auras that surround them, but that hardly seems noteworthy considering the location.

The lack of interesting sights ends at the large hall that they emerge into, where a combination of large chains and a complicated pulley system hold a carcass suspended a dozen feet above the ground. Still snarling defiance in death, fanged mouth open as if to deliver a last freezing breath, it is that of a silver dragon. The huge corpse stretches over sixty feet from nose to tail tip, seeming larger than the insane silver dragon Tyrass that the Angels had dispatched on the island near Xen’drik months ago. It is also in a state of incredibly good preservation, with only the glassy eyes and a large patch of missing skin on its left flank indicating that it is a corpse. The Angels’ eyes move from the latter section to the silver scales that are interwoven with the green skin on Mordain’s disproportionate left arm.

The Fleshweaver strides past the dragon without sparing it a glance, leading the group through a short corridor to a door, which again opens of its own accord. Inside is a large sitting room, with multiple seats and couches scattered around, each with a thick coating of dust and cobwebs. “Sit,” says Mordain, indicating the seats. As his guests move towards them, the individual seats they pick promptly clean themselves, taking on an immaculate condition in seconds. _Damn!_ thinks Luna. _That would go so well with our self-cleaning rugs!_

Mordain himself heads towards a wall, where he turns and lowers himself as if sinking into a comfortable seat, though there is nothing beneath him. As he leans back, Nameless sees the omnipresent auras wrap comfortably around the Fleshweaver, supporting him as he folds one leg over the other. Mordain looks at him expectantly. “Begin!”

Nameless begins to explain what happened, trying to provide context as needed, especially when Mordain begins to ask questions. The others also help as needed, but within a couple of minutes, Mordain says, “Stop! This should make things easier. Do not resist.” He casts a spell, and Angels feel a _telepathic bond_ link their minds to each other and to him. “Now,” he says and transmits over the link, “You may continue.”

With the aid of telepathy, the narration takes only a little over a quarter hour, even with the others’ interjections and Mordain’s few questions. When Nameless is done, Mordain looks at him silently – and expressionlessly – for a few seconds and then asks, “So you have no proof of this danger but what the Hag says, but do not want to risk the possibility that she is right, and think I might use my expertise to check and confirm.”

Since it is more statement than question, Nameless simply responds with a nod. “All right,” says Mordain. “I shall perform some tests on you. It will take two or three years to be certain.” He glances at the others and begins, “You four…,” when Nameless interrupts, “Three years? That is too long. I cannot remain here.” Mordain’s gaze flashes back to him and the tentacles momentarily writhe around his right wrist. Gareth quickly adds, in a soothing tone, “Sora Teraza said the danger might be very imminent, so time matters to us. And to you two, I presume, since she said the danger is to all of Khorvaire, and would disrupt your work too.”

Mordain says nothing for a few moments, and then rises quickly. “Very well – I will see what I can find now. I will also take a sample of your tentacle for further study.” He pauses expectantly, and it takes a few seconds for Nameless to realize that he was attempting to make a request. Evidently Mordain is somewhat lacking in the ability to ask permission, perhaps due to sheer lack of practice. “Certainly,” replies the alienist.

Mordain remains silent for a few more seconds, and then says, “Thank you?” The tone says he is hazarding a guess that it is the appropriate response. The next statement is made with much more certainty. “Come with me.” He gathers the Angels and _dimension door_s them away.

The Angels and he reappear in the middle of a room that strikes them with an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu. It is lit by two large crystals embedded in the ceiling and one in either wall, which cast a diffuse, slightly yellow light over the room. The center of the room is empty, but its sides are lined with various kinds of apparatus, all of which seem to protrude from the walls. Some are cases or chests of drawers, one is evidently a large sliding table (with a bulky object covered with what is either a very wet cloth or a strange membrane), and a couple are difficult to identify, but all of them bear the same pink tint as the walls. The walls also bear some closed sphincters in places. It all seems very reminiscent of the laboratories of the aberrations of Yarkuun Draal.

Mordain walks up to the largest of the sphincters and taps it, causing it to slide out an especially thick table, also of the same tint as the wall. This one is about six inches thick and bears a hollow in the rough shape of a humanoid form, about the size of an ogre. “Remove your clothes and lie there,” he tells Nameless, before gesturing to the others, “Stand away and be quiet.” 

As Nameless complies, his companions look away and make quiet comments about how watching him naked is much scarier a prospect than they signed up for, but the circumstances rob the jokes of some humor. Mordain, meanwhile, slides open a set of drawers to reveal various strange instruments, almost none of which the Angels can identify, and then taps another sphincter, to produce a tray of similar tools. These ones, however, are clearly all designed for slicing flesh. He selects one, while the tentacles around his wrist pick up many more. Mordain walks back and looks down at Nameless. “This will hurt.” As he speaks, the sides of the hollowed area that the alienist lies in suddenly contract, gripping him tightly in their embrace so that there is no possibility of reflexive movement.

“Excuse me,” says Luna, watching with trepidation, “Since it’s going to hurt, can’t you do something about that?”

Mordain nods. “That is … a good point.” His lips twitch in what might be an attempt at a friendly smile, and he steps swiftly to another set of drawers. He produces a small jar, filled with some glutinous gray liquid, and removes the lid. Then he picks up a small rod with what looks like an artificial tongue attached to it, or presumably artificial, since it swirls itself in circles when he dips it in the liquid. Mordain walks back and runs the tongue over Nameless’ mouth, coating his lips liberally with the liquid. “Do not open your mouth,” he orders. Seconds later, the liquid swells and expands into what seems to be a thick coating of flesh, which now covers Nameless’ mouth completely. “Good,” says Mordain. “He will not be able to scream.”

Luna’s eyes bulge even more than Nameless’ surprised ones. “Ummm – I was thinking of something that’ll prevent the pain, actually.” Mordain stares at her uncomprehendingly for a few seconds, and then sighs, “Very well.” With a command of, “Do not resist,” he reaches out to touch Nameless’ head and cast a spell. The alienist promptly passes out.

Mordain then proceeds to perform multiple small operations, including taking a couple of thin slices off the tentacle, after which he applies another liquid which regrows the removed flesh at a considerable speed. He also casts a couple of spells while doing so. Finally, he turns and gestures at Luna. “You – come here!” As the druid walks forward, he turns back to the unconscious Nameless and slices him open from the base of his neck to his navel. As a tentacle dexterously takes the scalpel he used, Mordain slides his fingers under the flesh on either side, and then pulls them apart, revealing Nameless’ skeletal structure and internal organs. “Hold this!” he says to a shocked Luna. As she complies, he lets go. “Do not worry,” he continues, with an evident effort at being soothing. “He will not die for three minutes.”

Luna stares at him, trying to ignore the feeling of the slippery and blood-stained skin under her fingers and the soft pulse of various organs, and growls, “So can you hurry this up?” _That’s NOT reassuring!_ 

Mordain ignores the comment. He reaches up with his left hand to pull down the collar of his shirt, revealing pallid skin beneath. Then he raises his right hand to his chest and pushes the fingers into his flesh. The skin parts, as if there were a hidden pocket of some sort, and he reaches in, feels around for a second, and pulls out a short stick or ornate wand made of six inches of bone, carved into an intertwining set of curves topped with a small purple gem. _Oh, that’s wrong!_ thinks Luna, watching the removal of the wand. Mordain leans forward and slowly moves it over Nameless’ form, from head to toe and then back up again, finally placing the stick gently in the middle of his open chest. 

After a couple of seconds, a bright flash of light erupts from the gem. To Korm, Six and Gareth, watching from more of a distance, it seems as if the light shines through Nameless’ skin, momentarily letting them see everything that is held within. Mordain picks up the wand and studies it. Then he places it to his head and closes his eyes for a few seconds. Finally, he replaces it into the receptacle in his chest. 

Having done so, he looks at Luna. “You are a healer.” She nods. “Then you should heal him now. He will be dead in forty-five … no, forty-one seconds.” Luna swears vehemently and quickly casts one of her _cocoon_s. Once it dissipates, Nameless is perfectly whole, but still unconscious. 

“One more thing,” says Mordain, producing some magical components from another drawer. He sets up the small cones of incense around an ivory rectangle and then begins to cast the spell, which those besides Six identify as a _legend lore_. Over the course of the next ten minutes, the incense catches fire of its own accord and burns away. As the last bit falls to pieces and disappears, the Fleshweaver’s eyes darken and his lips twitch slightly. “All right,” he says with finality, stepping up to revive Nameless. 

When the alienist opens his eyes, Mordain says, “I have some things to tell you. Get dressed.” Nameless gestures at his mouth, causing the Fleshweaver to look at him curiously, till Luna sighs and translates, “I think he’s saying that he’d like to have his mouth back.”

* * *
A few minutes later, the Angels are back in the sitting room with Mordain. The Fleshweaver looks at Nameless and says, “That was very interesting. And I have discovered what you needed to know. You have a dormant Gate to Xoriat inside you?”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” says Nameless, before Korm says, “But Xoriat is sundered from our plane forever, isn’t it?”

“It is. But if the Gate in his chest activates, then it will not be. Whether that will mean denizens of Xoriat can only enter our world through that one Gate, or if it will create enough of an opening to link the planes again, is difficult to predict, but I believe it would be the latter.”

“That’s not good. Any of that. Can the Gate be removed or nullified?” 

“Not that I have discovered. I have found two ways to activate it. One would be your death, Nameless.”

“So Sora Teraza told me.”

“She was correct.”

“What if he died but was brought back?” asks Luna. “Could that prevent it?” Six adds, “And what if his body could be kept alive but his consciousness was transferred to another, if that was possible.”

Mordain remains silent for a moment and then says, “The moment of his death would activate it, whether he was brought back to life later or not. And I believe it is tied to both his body and soul.” He looks at Nameless. “Your time in Xoriat and the contact with the mind of one of the Great Old Ones was probably the opportunity something – or someone – there used.”

“All right,” says Gareth, trying to avoid scowling. “You said there are two ways to activate it?”

“Yes. The second is to let it grow roots. The Gate is like a seed, and if he is in one place too long, it will sink roots into the location and activate.” Mordain pauses and then adds, “Those are metaphors,” in a tone which indicates he is trying to keep things simple for the benefit of the Angels. 

“Too long? How long is too long?”

“It is difficult to say, but a month would definitely be far too much. Up to two weeks would certainly be safe, but I would not exceed that.”

“Two weeks?” _Damn!_

“Yes. Also, if leaving a place you have been in for some days, make sure not to return to it for at least half the time you have spent there, since you will need that time away to prevent the link from being re-established by the Gate. You come from Sharn, correct? If you are in Sharn for eight days and then leave, if you return in less than four days the link will be remade and it will continue including those eight days, which will speed up the activation.”

The Angels exchange looks, the various expressions all agreeing that the news gets worse and worse. “How large an area are you referring to?” asks Six. “If it is a country or something like that, we will have to do some very creative traveling.”

“Not that large. I would estimate about a five mile diameter. Give or take a couple of miles.”

“What about if we were on a vehicle that traveled from place to place?” continues Six. “Like a ship. Or an airship.” “Damn!” interrupts Luna excitedly, “I would _love_ to live on an airship. Come on, guys – let’s sell our place and buy an airship!” Korm rolls his eyes. “Focus, Luna?”

Mordain waits for silence and then says, “An airship or any other vehicle would be fine as long as the geographical location was changed as I indicated.”

“What do you think would happen if we visited one of the manifest zones to Xoriat?” asks Six. “Or an area where magic is suppressed?”

“For the former, since those zones are all suppressed, it would presumably have no effect on the Gate. But I would not experiment. A permanent area of _antimagic_ would presumably keep it dormant, but I know of no such place.”

_Great!_ “I am _not_ going anywhere near a manifest zone to Xoriat with this, Six,” says Nameless, before turning to Mordain. “Thank you for all the information. Is there anything else you can tell us?”

“Not at present.” Mordain looks around at the group and says, “I wish to make … a request of you.”

_This can’t be good_, thinks Luna. “You’re not about to offer us a job, are you?”

“No. I would like to take samples from all of you.”

“What?!”

“Samples. I shall remove part of you and heal you. You will not miss it.”

“Why?”

“I have a theory about body parts taken from humanoids with unusual abilities. I have not met people with your skills in a while, and especially not all together. It would be a very good way to test some of my theories.” He pauses and then adds, probably trying to be helpful, “You realize that I do not need to ask you this, do you not? I could simply take the samples. But I am being … hospitable.”

The Angels again exchange glances, tensing for a fight. Finally, Gareth says, “We understand that and appreciate the courtesy. If you do not mind, I need to test something before I answer.”

Mordain looks at him curiously. “What?” Nameless sighs and quickly answers first, “He has certain issu…,” but Gareth speaks over him. “I need to know if you are evil.”

“You are a worshipper of the Flame, so by your standards, I am. Why does that matter?”

Gareth shakes his head. “I am sorry, but I cannot give a ‘sample’ of myself to you. Your purposes may be evil, and I cannot aid in them or risk that what you take from us will be used to such ends.”

This time, it is Mordain who sighs, and his hand and tentacles twitch slightly. Then, he proceeds to explain at length why it would make perfect sense for the Angels to allow him to do what he wants, especially since he will provide significant augmentations to them which will aid in their future work, and help in protecting Nameless from harm. By the time he completes the explanation, there is little that they can use for an argument, having been completely swayed by his arguments. The Angels accompany him to his laboratories, a separate one for each of them, where he renders them unconscious for the duration of his work. Mordain does revive each of them on multiple occasions and they have some enjoyable discussions about what he is doing to them and what he is going to do. As they spend more and more time chatting with Mordain, the Angels find him quite pleasant, friendly and interesting to talk to. By the time he is done, each of them considers the Fleshweaver a fairly good friend.


----------



## Vorput

Psh, the solution to this predicament is simple.

either

A)  Nameless goes stand in the middle of Sharn for a month... cause Xoriat opening up in the middle of Sharn would be funny.
OR
B)  The Angels planeshift Nameless to some other plane, like the hell dimension the thing that sired those Hags come from- and kill him there.  Xoriat takes over, and Hell and the Far Realms duke it out.  Problem = Solved.

Vorp


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> Psh, the solution to this predicament is simple.
> 
> either
> 
> A)  Nameless goes stand in the middle of Sharn for a month... cause Xoriat opening up in the middle of Sharn would be funny.
> OR
> B)  The Angels planeshift Nameless to some other plane, like the hell dimension the thing that sired those Hags come from- and kill him there.  Xoriat takes over, and Hell and the Far Realms duke it out.  Problem = Solved.
> 
> Vorp




A) "Don't make me dead. You wouldn't like me when I'm dead..."

B) Well we did discuss this (Gareth was particularly enthusiastic for this idea, though for some reason he thought a GOOD plane would be the best place for this). Problem is that Xoriat is sundered from ALL of the planes. So if the gate opens on ANY of the planes, then it could open Eberron to invasion as well.

Plane Shifting out of Eberron is my back up plan none the less, simply because it should at least minimize the damage.


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

Oh man.  That's funny.  Did they even get to _attempt_ a Will save on that Mass Charm?


----------



## Rackhir

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Oh man.  That's funny.  Did they even get to _attempt_ a Will save on that Mass Charm?




It wasn't Mass Charm, it was something a lot nastier than that. It may or may not be clear from the next update, so I won't say just yet, but the Title for the story hour is a clue of sorts to exactly what was done.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> A) "Don't make me dead. You wouldn't like me when I'm dead..."




Tell me about it. Other people just die. You go hang out with Great Old Ones, get a quick experience of omnipresence, and come back with a planar nuke.



> B) Well we did discuss this (Gareth was particularly enthusiastic for this idea, though for some reason he thought a GOOD plane would be the best place for this). Problem is that Xoriat is sundered from ALL of the planes. So if the gate opens on ANY of the planes, then it could open Eberron to invasion as well.




Actually, I should add a little more to that, since I've been doing some double-checking on how planar links in Eberron work. The Eberron cosmology is very different from the core Great Wheel version, with one of the big differences being that none of the planes besides the Material Plane (Eberron) has a connection with any other, but all of them are linked to the Material. So Xoriat too, when it was linked to Eberron, wasn't linked to the other planes. So the opening of the Gate in Nameless on another plane would be a serious (pun unintended) aberration, with one of two consequences. It would either (a) actually link Xoriat to that plane, allowing Xoriat to eventually take over that plane and then move to Eberron, or (b) Bypass that plane totally and just make the step across to Eberron, since that would be the 'natural' location for a link to Xoriat.



> Plane Shifting out of Eberron is my back up plan none the less, simply because it should at least minimize the damage.




As you say, though if (b) above happens then it wouldn't make a difference.



			
				GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Oh man. That's funny. Did they even get to attempt a Will save on that Mass Charm?






			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> It wasn't Mass Charm, it was something a lot nastier than that. It may or may not be clear from the next update, so I won't say just yet, but the Title for the story hour is a clue of sorts to exactly what was done.




As Rackhir said, it was much, much nastier. We were actually close to the end of the session when Mordain asked for samples from them and the PCs turned him down, and I said, "Look, guys - we're too late today to play this out, and I don't want to bother doing so next week since he will take you down. There's no chance of it not happening. Can we just skip the fight and start with the aftermath?" So the players agreed.

During the week in between, Six's player and Gareth's suggested that I let them know what happened during the fight so that they have some information about the guy for when they eventually come up against him again (Luna's player was adamant that she was going to make his life miserable as payback). I said, "Sure," but after I worked out what he was going to use on them, I realized that I didn't need to provide any details, since they would have no idea what happened. You'll see it with the next writeup, which should be up sometime next week, and I'll provide some of the 'behind the scenes' details then.


----------



## Vorput

Is Eberron a normal planet?

You could stick Nameless in some sort of temporal stasis- and launch him into space with some permanent flame on him to keep him being propelled away from Eberron.

Sure, eventually he'll hit something and die- but that'll just open up a portal to Xoriat in the dark realms of space, by the time the creatures make it to Eberron, you and all your kids will be dead! (Maybe not Six).

Vorp


----------



## Furby076

How about plane shifting to xoriat and killing Nameless there. A portal from xoriat to xoriat is worthless. Then raise him and plane shift back?

I like the stasis field.  I am surprised Mordain didn't do something like imprisonment.


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Is Eberron a normal planet?




Are you nuts? It has GNOMES! More seriously, if you mean normal as far as space and physics are concerned, not really. Physics in D&D, to quote myself, is a house rule. 



> You could stick Nameless in some sort of temporal stasis- and launch him into space with some permanent flame on him to keep him being propelled away from Eberron.
> 
> Sure, eventually he'll hit something and die- but that'll just open up a portal to Xoriat in the dark realms of space, by the time the creatures make it to Eberron, you and all your kids will be dead! (Maybe not Six).




Nice idea, but even if it were possible there's that significant possibility that it won't be one portal opening. The gate in Nameless opening will relink Xoriat and Eberron, in which case portals can (and presumably will) open everywhere. 



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> How about plane shifting to xoriat and killing Nameless there. A portal from xoriat to xoriat is worthless. Then raise him and plane shift back?




You can't plane shift to Xoriat. It's sundered from Eberron. But if the gate inside Nameless activates and links the two, you should be able to plane shift there. Of course, a whole lot of things will be able to plane shift the other way too 



> I like the stasis field. I am surprised Mordain didn't do something like imprisonment.




You're forgetting the bit with the gate linking to the place it's in after enough time. Imprisonment would not have prevented that. That's the only reason you guys aren't all still his guests.


----------



## fafhrd

shilsen said:
			
		

> You can't plane shift to Xoriat. It's sundered from Eberron. But if the gate inside Nameless activates and links the two, you should be able to plane shift there. Of course, a whole lot of things will be able to plane shift the other way too




You don't allow the DC 30+ spellcraft check?  Do you treat Xoriat's "altered orbit" as being something more akin to Dal Quor's isolation than plain vanilla remoteness?


----------



## Rackhir

fafhrd said:
			
		

> You don't allow the DC 30+ spellcraft check?  Do you treat Xoriat's "altered orbit" as being something more akin to Dal Quor's isolation than plain vanilla remoteness?




If it were as simple as making a spell craft roll, they'd be here already. Nameless can make a dc30 spellcraft check on a roll of a 1.


----------



## shilsen

fafhrd said:
			
		

> You don't allow the DC 30+ spellcraft check?  Do you treat Xoriat's "altered orbit" as being something more akin to Dal Quor's isolation than plain vanilla remoteness?




No and Yes. Both in flavor and mechanically, having Xoriat be that accessible doesn't sit well with me.



			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> If it were as simple as making a spell craft roll, they'd be here already. Nameless can make a dc30 spellcraft check on a roll of a 1.




Showoff


----------



## fafhrd

Rackhir said:
			
		

> If it were as simple as making a spell craft roll, they'd be here already. Nameless can make a dc30 spellcraft check on a roll of a 1.




To be fair, the DC is 30 plus the level of the spell.  Does Shilsen make you make the spellcraft check to do your summons?  If so, Alienist must have been a painful choice prior to your current vaunted level of power.  Pardon my ignorance, but I only recently got roped into the storyhour (courtesy of Shilsen's plundering of enworld's collective deprativty).


----------



## shilsen

fafhrd said:
			
		

> To be fair, the DC is 30 plus the level of the spell.  Does Shilsen make you make the spellcraft check to do your summons?  If so, Alienist must have been a painful choice prior to your current vaunted level of power.




Nope. And I actually had completely forgotten about the 30 + spell level rule until you reminded me. Not that I would ever have used it with the alienist. It's arguably a weak PrC, and I've done a couple of things to beef it up (allowing summoning of the non-templated creatures on the SM lists too, replacing Toughness with Improved Toughness), and the Spellcraft check would have been a serious step backwards.



> Pardon my ignorance, but I only recently got roped into the storyhour (courtesy of Shilsen's plundering of enworld's collective deprativty).




You know, I never considered the advertising aspect of those threads. I should remember that. And if you have any questions about rules or interpretations I'm using, or anything else going on in the campaign and story hour, feel free to ask.


----------



## Vorput

Whatever happened to Bodo? That streetsmart kid Gareth took under his wing?

Edit:  These are the questions that keep me up at night...


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Whatever happened to Bodo? That streetsmart kid Gareth took under his wing?




He's still around off-camera. Gareth enrolled him a while ago in the school run by the Cathedral of the Silver Flame and also as a novice. Poor kid really took to it badly, but Gareth had him meet Cedric at one point, which helped a lot. When the Archierophant was sending messages to the Angels, Bodo was the delivery boy a couple of time, and the last real thing he did in the game was when he charged his classmates for info about where the Angels would be so that they could follow the famous heroes around. Bodo was a fun NPC. He was one of the many in the campaign who was just a random NPC the PCs met whom I had no plans for beyond the current moment, but whom they took a shine to and I developed over time. Kylian is another one.



> Edit:  These are the questions that keep me up at night...




And I stay awake working out under what circumstances a CR 4 critter could get +20 to hit, what the carrying capacity of an undead wyvern is, and precisely what could Mordain have done to my PCs. It's all perfectly understandable


----------



## ajanders

Vorput said:
			
		

> Is Eberron a normal planet?
> 
> You could stick Nameless in some sort of temporal stasis- and launch him into space with some permanent flame on him to keep him being propelled away from Eberron.
> 
> Sure, eventually he'll hit something and die- but that'll just open up a portal to Xoriat in the dark realms of space, by the time the creatures make it to Eberron, you and all your kids will be dead! (Maybe not Six).
> 
> Vorp




Actually, this is the perfect idea. Mordain could give him grafts to make him stronger than steel, too, to protect him from harm.
Just make sure you send him off in a red and blue blanket.


----------



## Vorput

ajanders said:
			
		

> Actually, this is the perfect idea. Mordain could give him grafts to make him stronger than steel, too, to protect him from harm.
> Just make sure you send him off in a red and blue blanket.




::chuckles::  It's SuperTentacle!!!

Faster than a speeding bullet (cause you don't want him to stay in one place too long)!


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> He's still around off-camera. Gareth enrolled him a while ago in the school run by the Cathedral of the Silver Flame and also as a novice. Poor kid really took to it badly, but Gareth had him meet Cedric at one point, which helped a lot. When the Archierophant was sending messages to the Angels, Bodo was the delivery boy a couple of time, and the last real thing he did in the game was when he charged his classmates for info about where the Angels would be so that they could follow the famous heroes around. Bodo was a fun NPC. He was one of the many in the campaign who was just a random NPC the PCs met whom I had no plans for beyond the current moment, but whom they took a shine to and I developed over time. Kylian is another one.




Yea I've thought about Bodo a few times but we keep running into things that keep us  busy. I was actually worried about him.  Remind me to have Gareth ask about him


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> Actually, this is the perfect idea. Mordain could give him grafts to make him stronger than steel, too, to protect him from harm.
> Just make sure you send him off in a red and blue blanket.






			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> ::chuckles:: It's SuperTentacle!!!
> 
> Faster than a speeding bullet (cause you don't want him to stay in one place too long)!




You guys are all nuts! And I love it 



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> Yea I've thought about Bodo a few times but we keep running into things that keep us busy. I was actually worried about him. Remind me to have Gareth ask about him




Sure. And I've got a perfect way to re-introduce him next session. Knowing him, I wouldn't worry. He's probably making money selling fake autographs from the Angels and getting weapon shards from a blacksmith and passing them off as shards of Kizmet 

One thing about Bodo that never showed up in the story hour since it was a purely OOC comment was Dave's player opining more than once that if I really wanted to be a bastard, I should have them find out that Bodo and Kylian were actually the same person. That was a standing joke for a while. The PCs have never seen the two of them in the same place, since Gareth refused to take Bodo along to any of their meetings with Kylian, even though Bodo begged them to do so more than once and Luna offered to do so. Also, completely coincidentally of course, Kylian has never, ever mentioned Bodo, though he's mentioned all sorts of other aspects of the Angels' contacts, lives and activities.


----------



## Seekerofskill

shilsen said:
			
		

> One thing about Bodo that never showed up in the story hour since it was a purely OOC comment was Dave's player opining more than once that if I really wanted to be a bastard, I should have them find out that Bodo and Kylian were actually the same person. That was a standing joke for a while. The PCs have never seen the two of them in the same place, since Gareth refused to take Bodo along to any of their meetings with Kylian, even though Bodo begged them to do so more than once and Luna offered to do so. Also, completely coincidentally of course, Kylian has never, ever mentioned Bodo, though he's mentioned all sorts of other aspects of the Angels' contacts, lives and activities.




Argh! As next posting will make clear, we are back to square one with respect to Bodo, Kylian and the rest of Sharn.


----------



## Solarious

Seekerofskill said:
			
		

> Argh! As next posting will make clear, we are back to square one with respect to Bodo, Kylian and the rest of Sharn.



 When your RBDM with a heart of gold says: 'And I've got a perfect way to...', you know you should have kept your mouth shut. 

I will also be the first person to mention that Mordain is not human. He's an elf, abliet an ancient, super-modified, gonna-spread-Bizzaro-clones-of-the-Angels-all-over-the-place elf.  Granted, it's not really an improvement, but it is an improvement, isn't it? You're guarunteed to have encounters that will actually give you XP!


----------



## Rackhir

Solarious said:
			
		

> ...Granted, it's not really an improvement, but it is an improvement, isn't it? You're guarunteed to have encounters that will actually give you XP!




Actually it isn't. Shil hands out XP on a per session not per encounter basis. One of these days we're going to carry through on our threat to spend the entire session locked in a room with spells prepared to blast anything that bothers us...


----------



## Solarious

I forgot that small detail. My mistake. 

On the other hand, you also forgot one crutial detail. This also guaruntees encounters that will threaten you plenty without the need for bad teamwork. 

Or another of shilsen's patented setups, for that matter. 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Dammit, man - these are the kinds of things a 25 Int should be able to work out!



Speaking of which, you can also think of it this way: the more spells not devoted to buffing yourself up, the more spells you can devote to nuking the hell out of everything around you.  Or for more Cocoons (and Dimension Doors), since redundant panic-buttons are clearly extra-important in a shilsen campaign. 


			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> One of these days we're going to carry through on our threat to spend the entire session locked in a room with spells prepared to blast anything that bothers us...



Don't worry: that just ensures a hit-team from _somewhere_ in your long and illustious history _will_ come knocking next session just as you feel it's safe to come out.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> I will also be the first person to mention that Mordain is not human. He's an elf, abliet an ancient, super-modified, gonna-spread-Bizzaro-clones-of-the-Angels-all-over-the-place elf.




Shhhhhh! Ixnay on the zzarobi nesclo 



> Granted, it's not really an improvement, but it is an improvement, isn't it? You're guarunteed to have encounters that will actually give you XP!






			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> Actually it isn't. Shil hands out XP on a per session not per encounter basis. One of these days we're going to carry through on our threat to spend the entire session locked in a room with spells prepared to blast anything that bothers us...




I believe that's specifically your threat, not something the entire group has ever considered. 

And, as I've mentioned before, you get a whole lot more XP from my system than you would normally. I'm not sure whether you thought I was kidding or wrong. As is usually the case when I make a point about mechanical issues, it's neither. Here's the difference between what XP by CR would have given you in the last four sessions and what you actually got:

Session 52: XP by CR = 1080 each; XP handed out by me = 2000 each
Session 53: XP by CR = 960 each; XP handed out by me = 2000 each
Session 54: XP by CR = 1080 each; XP handed out by me = 2000 each
Session 55: XP by CR = nil each; XP handed out by me = 2000 each

In the four sessions, you made just over 250% of what you would have had if I did XP by CR. Note that session 52 was the one with the two fights in Carosten Park. Even there, you got nearly twice as much XP as you should get off CR. 

So, tell me again, why exactly would you prefer leveling up half as slowly as you do now?



			
				Solarious said:
			
		

> I forgot that small detail. My mistake.
> 
> On the other hand, you also forgot one crutial detail. This also guaruntees encounters that will threaten you plenty without the need for bad teamwork.
> 
> Or another of shilsen's patented setups, for that matter.




*bats eyes innocently*

Who - me?



> Speaking of which, you can also think of it this way: the more spells not devoted to buffing yourself up, the more spells you can devote to nuking the hell out of everything around you.  Or for more Cocoons (and Dimension Doors), since redundant panic-buttons are clearly extra-important in a shilsen campaign.




Funnily enough, that's a minor bonus that I actually considered with the abilities. More spells to save one's ass are never a bad thing in this game.



> Don't worry: that just ensures a hit-team from _somewhere_ in your long and illustious history _will_ come knocking next session just as you feel it's safe to come out.




Oh, come on - would I ever do that?


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> I believe that's specifically your threat, not something the entire group has ever considered.
> 
> And, as I've mentioned before, you get a whole lot more XP from my system than you would normally. I'm not sure whether you thought I was kidding or wrong. As is usually the case when I make a point about mechanical issues, it's neither. Here's the difference between what XP by CR would have given you in the last four sessions and what you actually got:
> 
> Session 52: XP by CR = 1080 each; XP handed out by me = 2000 each
> Session 53: XP by CR = 960 each; XP handed out by me = 2000 each
> Session 54: XP by CR = 1080 each; XP handed out by me = 2000 each
> Session 55: XP by CR = nil each; XP handed out by me = 2000 each
> 
> In the four sessions, you made just over 250% of what you would have had if I did XP by CR. Note that session 52 was the one with the two fights in Carosten Park. Even there, you got nearly twice as much XP as you should get off CR.
> 
> So, tell me again, why exactly would you prefer leveling up half as slowly as you do now?




Except that that's not really the choice. If the XP were being calculated differently, we'd be doing different things for starters. Unless for some reason you're trying to pretend that you're incapable of coming up with a set of monsters that would provide us with a similar or greater amount of XP. Some how I doubt that's the case. I think you also left out Sora Maenya and a situational adjustment for the trap we teleported into, from your XP calcuations. Now I know we didn't exactly win against her, but I think fighting her counts for something.

The amount of xp on strict CR basis in your campaign in any case tends to be artificially suppressed since you tend to favor monsters with class levels which gives a much larger "bang for the CR" than monsters straight out of the MM.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Except that that's not really the choice. If the XP were being calculated differently, we'd be doing different things for starters.




Being about 10th-11th level now, for one 



> Unless for some reason you're trying to pretend that you're incapable of coming up with a set of monsters that would provide us with a similar or greater amount of XP. Some how I doubt that's the case.




Sure, but encounters that produce even close to the kind of XP per session that you currently get would mean the PCs would be getting beat up even worse on a regular basis, and quite likely having some actual deaths even with my house rules. And, in all likelihood, spending so much table time in combat that in-game time would seriously crawl and the things they achieve would take twice as many sessions. 



> I think you also left out Sora Maenya and a situational adjustment for the trap we teleported into, from your XP calcuations. Now I know we didn't exactly win against her, but I think fighting her counts for something.




Didn't exactly win is right  

If you're going to do things by the book, then one might as well do it by the book, i.e. no XP for things you don't beat.



> The amount of xp on strict CR basis in your campaign in any case tends to be artificially suppressed since you tend to favor monsters with class levels which gives a much larger "bang for the CR" than monsters straight out of the MM.




As I've mentioned, it kinda evens out with the fact that the PCs have a lot more bang for their level than PCs straight out of the PHB. You know, goose ... gander, and all that jazz.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> Being about 10th-11th level now, for one




"Standard" advancement rates according to the DMG should be something like once every 4 sessions. At 55 sessions that's closer to 16th, 18th if you take into account that we started at 3rd.



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Sure, but encounters that produce even close to the kind of XP per session that you currently get would mean the PCs would be getting beat up even worse on a regular basis, and quite likely having some actual deaths even with my house rules. And, in all likelihood, spending so much table time in combat that in-game time would seriously crawl and the things they achieve would take twice as many sessions.




So what your saying then is that you are incapable of creating challenges that merely threaten us and don't actually exterminate us. I had suspected this after the Drug Den and the second ambush in the Park, but it's nice to hear it confirmed. 



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> As I've mentioned, it kinda evens out with the fact that the PCs have a lot more bang for their level than PCs straight out of the PHB. You know, goose ... gander, and all that jazz.




Yeah, except that you were calculating the XP based on us as a cr+1 or cr+2, without a similar boost to the creatures you were using.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> "Standard" advancement rates according to the DMG should be something like once every 4 sessions. At 55 sessions that's closer to 16th, 18th if you take into account that we started at 3rd.




I don't think the DMG ever suggested that. In both 3.0 and 3.5 it mentioned that the XP award by CR is based on the concept that 13.33 encounters of an EL equal to the PCs' level (assuming a 4 member party) would allow them to gain a level. But I can't recall them ever mentioning anything about the number of sessions. Which isn't surprising, since it's impossible to make any useful generalization about what happens per session in different groups. But you can make a formula (which is what they did) based off individual encounters, and then it's just a case of how long the PCs take to have that many. 

Incidentally, the PCs have made it from 10th to 11th in 6 sessions, 11th to 12th in 5, and 12th to 13th in 5, so we're pretty close to that 4 session thing recently.



> So what your saying then is that you are incapable of creating challenges that merely threaten us and don't actually exterminate us. I had suspected this after the Drug Den and the second ambush in the Park, but it's nice to hear it confirmed.




Other way around. We're talking XP, remember? I was saying that the PCs aren't capable of surviving encounters which (using the standard XP system) would give them the kind of XP that my system does. For me to threaten the PCs without actually exterminating them, I need to use easier fights than those. And threatening without exterminating is what we have been doing, since in 56 sessions, only once have the PCs been completely taken down if all of them were in the fight. Admittedly due to the house rules, of course, but then every campaign is mediated by its house rules.



> Yeah, except that you were calculating the XP based on us as a cr+1 or cr+2, without a similar boost to the creatures you were using.




Huh? When did I say that? The XP calculations above are based on having five PCs of 12th lvl, which is what you guys were during those 5 sessions. If I considered your PCs as being a level or two higher, that would mean you're making 300% to 400% the XP by my system of that which you would using the standard CR system.

Any way you slice it, your PCs get to level faster and have more stuff in this campaign than they would with the core rules. And definitely more than I would ideally like them to. But that doesn't bother me, since I expect things to function at some kind of a mean between my preferences and the players' preferences, rather than being completely fitting what's ideal for me. Would they level faster if I ran a heavy dungeon-crawl campaign? Almost certainly. But only in the short term, since that would bore the heck out of me and I'd have to quit DMing in a few months.


----------



## Seekerofskill

shilsen said:
			
		

> I don't think the DMG ever suggested that. In both 3.0 and 3.5 it mentioned that the XP award by CR is based on the concept that 13.33 encounters of an EL equal to the PCs' level (assuming a 4 member party) would allow them to gain a level. But I can't recall them ever mentioning anything about the number of sessions. Which isn't surprising, since it's impossible to make any useful generalization about what happens per session in different groups. But you can make a formula (which is what they did) based off individual encounters, and then it's just a case of how long the PCs take to have that many.
> 
> Incidentally, the PCs have made it from 10th to 11th in 6 sessions, 11th to 12th in 5, and 12th to 13th in 5, so we're pretty close to that 4 session thing recently.
> 
> 
> 
> Other way around. We're talking XP, remember? I was saying that the PCs aren't capable of surviving encounters which (using the standard XP system) would give them the kind of XP that my system does. For me to threaten the PCs without actually exterminating them, I need to use easier fights than those. And threatening without exterminating is what we have been doing, since in 56 sessions, only once have the PCs been completely taken down if all of them were in the fight. Admittedly due to the house rules, of course, but then every campaign is mediated by its house rules.
> 
> 
> 
> Huh? When did I say that? The XP calculations above are based on having five PCs of 12th lvl, which is what you guys were during those 5 sessions. If I considered your PCs as being a level or two higher, that would mean you're making 300% to 400% the XP by my system of that which you would using the standard CR system.
> 
> Any way you slice it, your PCs get to level faster and have more stuff in this campaign than they would with the core rules. And definitely more than I would ideally like them to. But that doesn't bother me, since I expect things to function at some kind of a mean between my preferences and the players' preferences, rather than being completely fitting what's ideal for me. Would they level faster if I ran a heavy dungeon-crawl campaign? Almost certainly. But only in the short term, since that would bore the heck out of me and I'd have to quit DMing in a few months.




1. If we were to do a heavy dungeon crawl with off the shelf monsters we would be about 16 lvl by now. It's pretty clear Shilsen won't and psychologically can't run off the shelf mobs. He does things to balance out this personality quirk but there it is. However I would like to see a Shilsen dungeon lay out.
2. To our dear readers: Stop with the helping and suggesting and prodding, suffering has us on speed dial frustration and extra key.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> I don't think the DMG ever suggested that. In both 3.0 and 3.5 it mentioned that the XP award by CR is based on the concept that 13.33 encounters of an EL equal to the PCs' level (assuming a 4 member party) would allow them to gain a level. But I can't recall them ever mentioning anything about the number of sessions. Which isn't surprising, since it's impossible to make any useful generalization about what happens per session in different groups. But you can make a formula (which is what they did) based off individual encounters, and then it's just a case of how long the PCs take to have that many.
> 
> Incidentally, the PCs have made it from 10th to 11th in 6 sessions, 11th to 12th in 5, and 12th to 13th in 5, so we're pretty close to that 4 session thing recently.




4 encounters per session x 4 sessions = 16 encounters. I believe is the source of the figure. You've also said you were advancing us at a faster rate for those sessions.



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Other way around. We're talking XP, remember? I was saying that the PCs aren't capable of surviving encounters which (using the standard XP system) would give them the kind of XP that my system does. For me to threaten the PCs without actually exterminating them, I need to use easier fights than those. And threatening without exterminating is what we have been doing, since in 56 sessions, only once have the PCs been completely taken down if all of them were in the fight. Admittedly due to the house rules, of course, but then every campaign is mediated by its house rules.




We might not be capable of surviving that number of the kind of encounters you throw at us. But doesn't that kind of reinforce my point about your creatures? Wait a minute aren't you always going on about how "over powered" and more powerful than standard we are?



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> ...it kinda evens out with the fact that the PCs have a lot more bang for their level than PCs straight out of the PHB.




In fact didn't you have a thread devoted to the idea that we were more powerful than the standard party? How does that jive with us being unable to survive a standard number of encounters at a standard CR? Haven't we also suffered what would have been a character death every other session?

Surviving the suggested standard encounters (presumably what modules are built around), would seem to be possible to me otherwise everyone else's campaigns would feature everyone being wiped out and that doesn't seem to be the case.



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Huh? When did I say that? The XP calculations above are based on having five PCs of 12th lvl, which is what you guys were during those 5 sessions. If I considered your PCs as being a level or two higher, that would mean you're making 300% to 400% the XP by my system of that which you would using the standard CR system.




The four Werewolf-Barbarian-Ogres should have been roughly a CR 10 a pop (assuming they were based on the Barb-4 Ogres), 4 of them translates out to a CR14 encounter. That fight we only had the 4 of us. To get the XP you came up with you would have had to be speccing us at above CR12. Though it sounds like you were calculating it as if we were all there, even though Six was uninvolved with the fight.



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Any way you slice it, your PCs get to level faster and have more stuff in this campaign than they would with the core rules. And definitely more than I would ideally like them to. But that doesn't bother me, since I expect things to function at some kind of a mean between my preferences and the players' preferences, rather than being completely fitting what's ideal for me. Would they level faster if I ran a heavy dungeon-crawl campaign? Almost certainly. But only in the short term, since that would bore the heck out of me and I'd have to quit DMing in a few months.




We're not leveling faster than "core". We might be leveling faster than we would for the strict CR of the creatures we're fighting, but according to you we couldn't survive fighting stuff that should be an even challenge. Challenges that we should be able to beat 4 encounters worth a session of. Again doesn't that kind of suggest there's something seriously off about the supposed CR of what you're throwing at us?

We do have more stuff than normal yes, but a lot of that comes down to handwaving stuff. We're not loaded down with an excess of standard magic items.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> 4 encounters per session x 4 sessions = 16 encounters. I believe is the source of the figure.




Okay. The DMG never said anything about 4 encounters per session. It did say that a normal 4 person PC group will likely need to rest after 4 challenging encounters, but that's where it's defining challenging encounters, not saying how often they should occur in a session. All it does is recommend that 50% of encounters in an entire adventure should be challenging. 

Interestingly, that section also says 15% should be very difficult (EL 1-4 higher than party level), where a PC may very well die, and 5% should be overpowering (EL 5+ higher than party level), where the party will almost certainly be TPKed if they don't flee. The DMG is more hardcore than many people recall!



> You've also said you were advancing us at a faster rate for those sessions.




I was, but it actually works out the same as our average. Our average with all sessions included is 10 levels in 55 sessions, and without the last three levels, it's 7 levels in 37, so actually quicker (since the earlier levels went very quick). 



> We might not be capable of surviving that number of the kind of encounters you throw at us. But doesn't that kind of reinforce my point about your creatures? Wait a minute aren't you always going on about how "over powered" and more powerful than standard we are?




You are, not just in comparison to core levels but also what most people are playing out there. But I can deal 



> In fact didn't you have a thread devoted to the idea that we were more powerful than the standard party? How does that jive with us being unable to survive a standard number of encounters at a standard CR? Haven't we also suffered what would have been a character death every other session?




Like I said, it's all because I can deal with the higher power level. 



> Surviving the suggested standard encounters (presumably what modules are built around), would seem to be possible to me otherwise everyone else's campaigns would feature everyone being wiped out and that doesn't seem to be the case.




Most DMs are kinder than me  You guys could definitely survive the suggested standard, but then I'd have to be toning things down and running NPCs less effectively, and what's the fun in that?



> The four Werewolf-Barbarian-Ogres should have been roughly a CR 10 a pop (assuming they were based on the Barb-4 Ogres), 4 of them translates out to a CR14 encounter. That fight we only had the 4 of us. To get the XP you came up with you would have had to be speccing us at above CR12. Though it sounds like you were calculating it as if we were all there, even though Six was uninvolved with the fight.




Actually, they were Dire Werewolf Ogre Bbn2s, so CR 9. Though I did horribly underequip them. Each had a masterwork greatsword and that was it. I did forget that there were 4 of you, but that would only pop the XP up to 1200.



> We're not leveling faster than "core". We might be leveling faster than we would for the strict CR of the creatures we're fighting, but according to you we couldn't survive fighting stuff that should be an even challenge. Challenges that we should be able to beat 4 encounters worth a session of. Again doesn't that kind of suggest there's something seriously off about the supposed CR of what you're throwing at us?




Your second sentence above is what I meant. And yes, the critters are tough for their CR, but like I said, it's all part of the adapting to your PCs. 



> We do have more stuff than normal yes, but a lot of that comes down to handwaving stuff. We're not loaded down with an excess of standard magic items.




Once you include the permanent stuff, au contraire. A few people on the thread about PC power levels told me I should be changing my name to Monty Haul 



			
				SeekerofSkill said:
			
		

> 1. If we were to do a heavy dungeon crawl with off the shelf monsters we would be about 16 lvl by now. It's pretty clear Shilsen won't and psychologically can't run off the shelf mobs. He does things to balance out this personality quirk but there it is.




True. I'm just really disinterested in dungeon crawls, as both player and DM. Though I might run one in a while if it weren't for the fact that we aren't playing that often anyway. So I really don't want to take time off to go through something like that. 



> However I would like to see a Shilsen dungeon lay out.




But I have run a couple of dungeon crawls for you guys, just not in the Eberron game. Remember the one-off goblin warren, which was the first time I DMed for the group? And, come to think of it, Yarkuun Draal was essentially a dungeon crawl, which we played for nearly two sessions I think.



> 2. To our dear readers: Stop with the helping and suggesting and prodding, suffering has us on speed dial frustration and extra key.




But they make such _nice_ suggestions!

Speaking of which, here's the next update. Where the PCs get lots and lots of cool stuff and are made very happy 

* * * * * * * * * *
*Gareth Byron Deneith - Human Paladin3/Clr2/Exorcist of the Silver Flame8
Korm’akhan - Orc Drd7/Hexer6
Luna - Shifter Drd13
Mithral 6 of 6 - Warforged Ftr4/Scout8/Swordsage1
Nameless - Human Wiz6/Alienist6*

The Angels open their eyes, feeling the coldness of stone under themselves. Sitting up, they find themselves in the chamber where Mordain had first _teleport_ed them into his home. The room now contains five large stone tables, each of which supports the naked form of one of the Angels, with their clothes and equipment piled beside them. As they sit up, the Angels find Mordain standing on one side of the room, expressionless visage and cold gray eyes, limned with the blue glow of his _arcane sight_, fixed on them. Immediately, they feel a warm glow of appreciation, knowing the difficult and tiring work that he has been carrying out on their behalf. The feeling is accompanied by their usual pleasure at each other’s presence and customary relief at finding their companions safe, especially Nameless.

“Rise and dress yourselves, please,” says Mordain, stepping forward. As the Angels hurry to comply, they all notice a feeling of weakness*, followed by the discovery of other, more obvious changes. A minor one is that none of the non-warforged in the group possesses a navel any more. All of their bodies – including Six’s – have had a large, roughly oval patch of green skin grafted into the center of their chests, with tiny tendrils of green extending out into the surrounding skin (or, in Six’s case, metal) till they fade away. The skin resembles that intermingled with the silver scales on Mordain’s larger left arm. All of the five also have various small bumps here and there on their bodies, which have some resemblance to the greenish-yellow protuberances that Nameless’ chest has borne since his return from Xoriat, but smaller. Each of their bodies also has thin white scars all over, as if they had been cut open in various places and healed non-magically. 

A couple of them have more significant changes. Six realizes that his vision is slightly different, causing him to have some difficulty focusing, and that he can see into the limited shadows in the room. As he raises a hand to his face, the others see that he has a third eye now, implanted into his forehead above and between his normal two eyes, which is quickly identified as the symbiont, now a permanent part of him. Luna, checking for her two symbionts in turn, finds them missing, but then remembers Mordain telling her that he has plans to improve their influence on her. She is also surprised and pleased to find herself much slimmer, having lost all of the weight she has accrued since finding and donning the band-symbiont in Yarkuun Draal, and perhaps more. Gareth has a smaller, but more noteworthy change. Naked as the others are, he finds himself wearing a steel gauntlet, but checking shows that it is a replacement for his right hand, which has been removed. Instead, he has a metal hand, which resembles Six’s hands but is slightly smaller. The fingers move and he can grasp things, though with slight difficulty.

Slightly confused, but still feeling a sense of strong gratitude at the changes, the Angels quickly dress themselves. They find a number of their magical items gone, but that is quite understandable, since they had discussed it with Mordain and agreed that he should use them. Nameless too is unsurprised at the lack of his permanent _arcane sight_, which Mordain had told him would probably end up _dispel_led over the course of the various spells he had to cast. _I can always cast it again later_, he thinks**, realizing that he will have to re-prepare his spells to do so, since all the ones that he had have been wiped from his memory, except for one _teleport_. The same is true for his companions.

Once they are all dressed, Mordain addresses the group. “Thank you for your patience and your aid. I’m pleased to see that you’ve all survived the various modifications I have made. I’m also happy to say that I’ve managed to make all the changes you asked for. It was very complicated and you should be quite pleased, because this is some of my finest work.” Nodding at Gareth, he says, “It helps that you had already been augmented slightly by the Flame during the battle against the rakshasas, as you told me, since I was able to draw on some of that energy remaining in your systems and also build substantially on those modifications, besides adding my own. You shall find yourself much more difficult to hit and damage with weapons and more resistant to magic, as if you were protected with strong magic equipment, and will find your abilities enhanced in all areas. The troll-flesh I grafted onto you will allow you to heal all wounds in the matter of minutes, though it will take a little time after you are hurt to activate.”***

The Angels listen with interest, with numerous questions coming to mind for each of them. However, natural politeness and respect for Mordain makes all of them remain silent and wait until he speaks to them individually. This is what he now begins to do.

Mordain first walks up to Gareth. “I know you’ve been concerned about the loss of what you thought was your paladinhood ever since that situation with Kizmet, but you don’t have to worry any more. I have made you a paladin.” Utterly surprised, Gareth now realizes that it is true, feeling the full favor of his deity enveloping him. A tiny voice buried deep in his mind wants to shout, “What? What did you do to me?” but it is buried under an irresistible tide of gratitude. “It was a very interesting task but not that difficult, since you were mostly there anyway. More or less. I’ve also strengthened your ability to _detect_ the presence of evil in one’s spiritual alignment and thoughts. Try the first.” 

Gareth complies, and realizes immediately that his ability works significantly faster than earlier. Instead of having to focus for nearly twenty seconds on the same area to pinpoint different auras, he instead receives the information in a couple of seconds. Naturally, nothing and nobody in the room is evil, other than the aura in Nameless’ chest. Seeing the others staring at him, Gareth then realizes that there is a soft glow in front of his face. Lifting a hand toward his face, he finds a soft silver gleam illuminating it. “A byproduct of the process,” Mordain explains, “Is that your eyes now emit a silver glow when you use the abilities. Quite fitting with the Silver Flame, wouldn’t you say? Your ability to _detect thoughts_ will not work faster, but it will be more difficult to resist.”

The Fleshweaver then points at Gareth’s metal hand. “You’ve already noticed that, of course. I know you’re very attached to your valuables and equipment, especially your sword, so I ensured you’ll never lose it. Click your fingers.” Gareth obeys, and the Endless Blade instantly appears in his hand, its hilt fused into the palm of the metal hand. “It’s my personal modification on a _glove of storing_,” says Mordain. “It only holds your Blade, but you can make it appear and disappear with a click of your fingers, and you can’t ever be disarmed of it. Unless someone removes your entire hand, of course. By the way, the Blade is a little weak after the treatment, which is why it isn’t speaking now, but it’ll recover soon. But don’t put it away. I have one special surprise for you. Watch this. And don’t resist.”

Mordain reaches up to touch Gareth, casting a _Hold Person_. The paladin immediately goes rigid for a moment. And then, he moves, looks down at himself with a confused expression, and says, “What the F*CK?!” The others, watching, instantly recognize the voice as that of the Endless Blade. Gareth, meanwhile, feels himself paralyzed and then everything goes black. He remains conscious, but is unable to feel his physical body. And then suddenly he is back in his body again, as Mordain ends the spell, and asks dazedly, “What happened?” The Fleshweaver explains, in a pleased tone, “I know you have fears about being mind-controlled by some entity. So now, when you have your Blade in hand, if you are affected by many forms of mind-affecting magic, your psyche will pass into the Blade and the Blade’s will pass into your body. Naturally it will lack your unique powers, but it can try to get you away from danger before your body is slain. The two consciousnesses will return to their normal positions when the controlling magic ends. It’s quite a brilliant concept.”

While Gareth is still staring at his hand and trying to completely comprehend all the changes, Mordain steps away, now coming up to Six. He indicates the warforged’s third eye. “As you’ve already noted, I have implanted the symbiont into you for convenience, since the previous method of activating and deactivating it was so ineffective. Since it’s now linked to you, the eye uses significantly less energy and can be awake all day, just as you can. It will provide you with the ability to see in the dark, as usual, but its visual acuity is better now.”

Mordain points at Six’s harness, which seems set a little deeper in his chest, and continues, “I’ve also modified the harness significantly so that it will better help you in battle and otherwise. It adapts to the wearer quite slowly, but I significantly sped up the process, as well as making it much more adaptive. Since you prefer subtlety and movement in combat, focusing on moving in, attacking and moving out before your foe can hit, the harness will provide you with some options to that end. Since it’s linked to you, it activates when you find yourself in a dangerous situation, as part of your response mechanism. So you won’t have to choose to activate it, but will have to know you’re being attacked.” He pauses and says, “Let me give you a demonstration. Pick up your chain.” 

While Six does so, the Fleshweaver walks to the door and opens it. Outside stands another of the four-armed flesh golems, standing motionless, like a giant, horribly ugly statue. Mordain indicates Six and says, “Kill him,” causing it to lumber into motion. As it advances, in the blink of an eye, what seem to be tiny black roots seep out of Six’s harness and cover him in an instant, some of it streaming up his spiked chain as well. The ‘roots’ are insubstantial and seemingly made of shadow, making Six seem as if he were cloaked from head to foot in darkness, only his three eyes shining through the gloom. “Six! Move in, think of burning it with a blow from the chain, and move out,” orders Mordain. Not sure what that means, Six does so, tumbling under the golem’s swinging arm and lashing out, focusing on the thought of flames on his blade. As he moves, the shadows stream behind him in foot-long tendrils, making his outline blurry. The chain lashes out, and just before it strikes the golem, the shadows on it leap up in black flames, which seem to scorch his target’s flesh when they hit. “Now hurl some shadow at it!” orders Mordain again, and Six complies, throwing a fistful of shadow that strikes the golem and bruises its shoulder. It wordlessly turns and advances, arms outstretched. With the tables in the room, Six has limited room to maneuver, and the golem backs him up in a corner. As it pulls back two fists, Mordain points at the opposite side of the room and orders him, “Focus on moving to that shadow!” “What?” asks Six confusedly, barely dodging a heavy blow that cracks the wall behind him. “Just focus on appearing there!” Knowing that Mordain wouldn’t tell him to do something that would harm him, Six tries to follow the order. As he concentrates, the shadows around him puff up in a small cloud and then disappear, along with Six. A second later, they – and Six – reappear, in the area that Mordain pointed to. Mordain nods in satisfaction and then calls off the golem, ordering it to go back outside. As it does so, the shadows seep back into the harness, leaving Six as he had been just before they appeared. “See?” he says to Six. “Brilliant!” 

Walking up to Six again, he says, “Each of those particular maneuvers can be used once, but the harness recovers them fairly quickly. Anyway, you’ll learn more with practice. But there’s one more thing. I’ve also made it easier for you to disguise yourself without having to use magic. Visualize a humanoid about the same size of you. Maybe a big human or a bugbear or something of the kind. Focus on the image and think of looking like it. Concentrate!” Curious to see what happens now, Six does so. Immediately, his harness begins to grow spongy and soft, and, over the course of a minute, takes on the consistency of flesh. Then more roots, his time looking and feeling like little tendrils of flesh, shoot out from the harness. They spread across his body, linking and growing, developing skin and hair on their surface. In about a minute, Six is covered in flesh (which also covers his third eye) and looks like a very good facsimile of what he visualized. “It can do that daily,” says Mordain, “Lasting an hour at a time. It will not _detect_ as an illusion, so it helps significantly as a disguise. The one negative is that the harness’ protective functions are weakened during this time. Again, you will get more control over time. Now concentrate on ending it.” When Six does so, the layer of flesh swells slightly and quickly begins to darken. In seconds, it turns a nauseating shade of brownish-green, and over the course of a minute, the entire thing putrefies and falls off in foul-smelling lumps. To the amusement of the Angels, Nameless’ stomach promptly growls at the disgusting aroma.

Mordain, naturally, does not smile, but simply moves over to Korm now. “In your case, Korm’akhan,” he says, “I have made only one really significant change, since it was very complicated. But it is the one that you wanted.” Korm nods eagerly, recalling their discussion when he explained to Mordain that the primary ability he wishes to develop is to call upon more than one of his Aspects of Nature at once. While his unique training and abilities allow Korm to draw upon the qualities of different animals, he does so without actually taking on their forms as Luna does, and can only take on a single attribute at a time. As Korm considers both this restriction on his ability and the benefit of being able to retain his equipment and natural form while using it, Mordain says, “Focus on increasing your agility and reflexes.” Korm hesitates for a moment, knowing that while he can achieve increased strength and resilience, none of his aspects can increase his dexterity. But then, as he concentrates, he realizes that he now can take on such an aspect. The Gatekeeper focuses and calls his aspect to the surface.

Immediately, he feels his muscles lengthen, increasing slightly in strength but becoming more suited for speed and agility, and his hide hardens, becoming slightly rubbery and a strange greenish-mauve in shade. More surprisingly, he feels his face begin to shift and change, though there is no attendant pain. Hurriedly lifting his hands, Korm feels his skull and face elongate beneath his fingers, and then two foot-long tentacles erupt from around his mouth, which slides underneath them and towards the bottom of his chin. The watching Angels realize immediately what Korm now partly resembles, as Mordain says with satisfaction, “See – aspect of the illithid! Perfect!” 

Korm feels a strong surge of pleasure and satisfaction at the change, drowning out the infinitesimally small scream of horror that begins to erupt deep within his mind before it is stilled and silenced. “Thank you,” he says in a muffled voice, his malformed mouth making speech a little difficult. “You are welcome. And you can turn back now,” says Mordain, and Korm obeys. While he returns to his normal orcish form for the most part, the tentacles remain, only shrinking slightly. “They’ll be gone soon,” reassures the Fleshweaver. “I have provided you with a few different aspects that I had at hand, but you should be able to add a few later. All you will need to do is eat a sufficiently large part of an aberration and your body will assimilate it and its qualities.”

Mordain then turns to her. “I’ve had a simpler time with you, actually, because of the presence of your symbionts. As you’ve noticed, they’re not present here,” Mordain says, his right hand and surrounding tentacles pointing at her torso, “But that’s because I implanted them inside you. You see, the symbionts weren’t affecting you as well as they could, due to your constant movement from shifter form to some animal form and back again, which would disrupt their growing connection with you each time. To avoid that problem, I’ve transplanted them directly into you, as I said, and modified them so that they will only affect your wildshape form, since you spend so much time in it.”

Luna nods eagerly, realizing that everything he says is true. Mordain continues, “The effects should be evident already, and is precisely what you have wanted to achieve for a while.” He takes a few steps backwards and says, “Turn into a bear.” Luna does so, taking on her favorite shape, but it is significantly different. Mainly in that there is so much more to her. While her form as a bear was always very large, more recently weighing in at over 8,000 lbs, it is incredibly huge right now, actually shoving the others out of the way and almost overturning one of the heavy stone tables. More precisely, she is both huge and incredibly fat, with gigantic rolls of flesh hanging off her form, so that she actually drags her belly along the round. Luna immediately realizes that she’s significantly stronger than she used to be as a bear, with her already monumental resistance to injury enhanced, aside from her now thicker hide. At the same time, she feels thick and bloated and slow, but that realization is just a minor consideration in her pleasure at the increased size that she had desired. 

Mordain steps closer, explaining, “In this form, if you are affected by anything that drains your strength or similarly affects you, the implanted symbiont will quickly absorb it. As you have noticed, you are also able to see perfectly in the dark, much like a dwarf, just as you had requested. But there is more. Try to say something.” Luna thinks for a second and then asks, “Can you hear me now?” Unsurprisingly, the words emanate as a growl, but a second later, Luna feels her tongue move of its own accord and begin to push its way out of her mouth. Too surprised to resist, she allows it to do so, and it extends a good couple of feet, and she and the others realize that it is a large, flat green tentacle rather than a tongue. As it emerges, a slit in the top opens, and a tinny voice repeats in perfect, if slightly accented, Common, “Can you hear me now?” 

“That’s my modification to your tongue-symbiont,” says Mordain. “It will translate anything you say to the Common tongue. You will no longer be able to use it to store spells, which it was quite inefficient at, anyway. Instead, you can use it to deliver any spells you cast that you otherwise would have by touching someone. Not only is it, being somewhat sentient, good at darting past an enemy’s defenses, but it is also much longer than it appears.” He looks around and then gestures at Gareth. “Try to lick him.” Luna looks her surprise but is about to step forward to reach the new paladin, when the Fleshweaver adds, “Don’t move. Just try it.” With a huge ursine shrug that sends waves of flesh jiggling around her form, Luna complies. Her tongue promptly shoots out, stretching incredibly to strike Gareth’s chest where he stands, a full dozen feet away from Luna’s snout. “See?” says Mordain. “Now turn back.” 

While Luna does so, regaining her now slim and svelte figure, Mordain turns finally to Nameless. “Now you,” he says to the alienist, “For fairly different reasons to Korm, are difficult to modify much. Your experiences on Xoriat have significantly modified you already, and those additions to you resist further change. So what I have done is slightly augmented them, as well as providing a method for you to overcome the weakness caused by the trauma of your physical death.” Mordain’s tentacles all turn to point at Nameless’ single, larger version, as he continues, “Since you’ve had a few disagreeable experiences with enemies grabbing and wrestling you, I’ve empowered your tentacle a bit. You will be able to use it as a weapon, which should come in helpful to surprise those who attack you physically, thinking you will be helpless if they nullify your spells.” Nameless looks down, noting that the surface of his tentacle does seem a little harder, and that he has more precise control over it.

“More importantly,” the Fleshweaver continues, “You have been weakened by the sojourn to Xoriat. So, to aid you until you recover fully, I’ve found you a little friend to help with things. You will recognize him easily.” Mordain taps a pouch on his belt, which flies open, and something walks out. It is propelled by a set of what look like thick spider legs, and is topped with a six inch tentacle topped with a purple eye, but there is no mistaking what makes up the bulk of the creature. All of the Angels chorus, “Edgar!”

“Yes,” says Mordain, a tinge of amusement in his voice. “I simply woke Edgar up. Now he will accompany you. Being in physical contact with Edgar while preparing and casting spells will allow you to expand your repertoire and even access those of the seventh valence, until you are recovered fully and able to do so on your own. He should be able to provide other benefits and guidance when fully active. Since I just awoke him, and he is a rock, after all, he’ll need time to acclimatize to his new state and will be resting a lot.” While Mordain is speaking, Edgar climbs down his leg, scurries across to Nameless, and climbs up his shoulder. There, he – or it – settles down, somehow managing to give an impression akin to a cat curling up on a favorite seat. 

As Mordain finishes speaking, there is a knock on the door. The Fleshweaver turns and glances at it, his lips twitching slightly, and though he cannot physically form facial expressions, he gives the impression of first frowning and then smiling. He waves the Angels to wait and walks to the door, muttering something under his breath, which a number of them realize is, “Done already? Much faster that I’d expected. Excellent!” 

Mordain opens the door slightly, revealing the shadow of a figure standing to the side, though the Angels cannot see who it is. He nods at it, says, “Wait!” and closes the door. Looking around at the Angels, he says, “I have to go now. It has been a distinct pleasure meeting and working on you. Please take your things and leave. Do not return here. If I need to see you at some time or check on you, I will.” He then shakes a finger – and a number of tentacles – at Nameless. “Be safe.” 

Then he opens the door, steps through partly, and stops as if he had remembered something. Looking back at Luna, he says, “I almost forgot – congratulations! I’m sure you will make a great parent.” Turning slightly, he adds, “You too,” but it is difficult to say whether he is addressing Six or Korm, who happen to be standing next to each other. Or, for that matter, if he said, “You two.” Before anyone can think of saying or asking something, he steps through the door. And then Korm and he step away as the door shuts. Or what looks like Korm, since the Angels have only a quick glimpse of the figure who steps forward to join Mordain, but it is enough for all of them to think that it looks like a twin brother to Korm.

Not that they stop to discuss it in detail. As Mordain leaves, the Angels feel an overwhelming urge to follow his commands and leave immediately. They quickly grab up their remaining items, while exchanging a couple of comments on what has happened. While doing so, they find a small sack that has been left for them. It is full of coins, all of them either golden or platinum. Most are centuries old. Gareth picks up the sack and weighs it in his hand, saying, “There’s got to be thousands of coins in there. Mordain really is amazingly generous!” 

“Yes,” agrees Nameless. “I’m so glad we came here. But now we really need to leave.” The others gather around and he _teleport_s them all away. 

At the end of the corridor outside, Mordain realizes that they are gone, his wards informing him of their passage. _At least they shall not bother me for a while. I hope they are able to keep Nameless alive. His death would be a real inconvenience._ For a moment, Mordain wonders if he should have kept Nameless – and the others – after all, and tried to move him around on a regular basis. But the Fleshweaver knows his own limitations. With his focus on his work, Nameless would sooner or later remain forgotten somewhere, until Xoriat erupted into the world once more through him. _It was the most optimal choice._ Mordain is no longer capable of emotions such as regret, fear, or worry, and the possibility that things might go wrong due to Nameless’ departure is one he doesn’t bother to consider.

One emotion that Mordain is quite capable of, however, is that of satisfaction. And as he gazes at the figures standing around him, he feels a surge of pleasure. He was not lying when he told the Angels that he had done some of his finest work on them. But this, he knows for a fact, is undisputedly even finer. “Come,” he says, turning away, “I need to speak to you.” Silently, the Angels follow him.


* Permanent loss of 2 points of Con
** I house-ruled that if permanencied spells are dispelled, they can be made permanent again later without extra use of XP. 
*** The PCs have permanent +4 enhancement bonuses to every stat, a +4 resistance bonus to saves, a +3 deflection bonus to AC, and a +4 enhancement bonus to natural armor. The troll-flesh provides them with fast healing 1 and will eventually heal them completely, but only kicks in 1 minute after they have been wounded with lethal damage.


----------



## ajanders

And we all know Six's symbiont harness is vulnerable to sonic attacks, right?


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> Session 52: XP by CR = 1080 each; XP handed out by me = 2000 each
> Session 53: XP by CR = 960 each; XP handed out by me = 2000 each
> Session 54: XP by CR = 1080 each; XP handed out by me = 2000 each
> Session 55: XP by CR = nil each; XP handed out by me = 2000 each




While I am not doubting your math, or your assumptions you are neglecting something - XP is also given for doing things out of combat.  So if session 52 you gave us 1080 xp for mobs, there is xp you need to give us for other things (i.e. making fun of the BBEG and walking out of his house unscathed because of hospitality tradition) 

Now given that, I don't really care much for XP. I just want to level. Now get me those extra two levels of Exorcist of the Silver Flame  (it's gotta be monumental, since you know I get to flame on like the Human Torch, and well it's the last time I will b etaking that class level, at 10).


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:
			
		

> The amount of xp on strict CR basis in your campaign in any case tends to be artificially suppressed since you tend to favor monsters with class levels which gives a much larger "bang for the CR" than monsters straight out of the MM.




Survival = winning. We could have died in that encounter - very easily (i.e. by not stopping when they told us to, or making a silly move vs the werewolves.)

Also, shil's mobs would give more XP because they are above average (hit points ,elite array stats, and well they are shils).

Anyhow, I am not arguing against Shils XP method, just saying some things that pop into my head. The only thing we really worry about XP for is crafting items (or XP spells) and maybe if someone dies.


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> Once you include the permanent stuff, au contraire. A few people on the thread about PC power levels told me I should be changing my name to Monty Haul





Yea they say that now, but they don't have real perspective (ours). Let them sit through one of your sessions and they won't say Monty Haul...most likely they will say "but, but, we're level 20, and that level 2 orc barbarian with a rusty dagger just killed us." and then curl up into the fetal position and cry.


----------



## Rackhir

AviLazar said:
			
		

> Yea they say that now, but they don't have real perspective (ours). Let them sit through one of your sessions and they won't say Monty Haul...most likely they will say "but, but, we're level 20, and that level 2 orc barbarian with a rusty dagger just killed us." and then curl up into the fetal position and cry.




You know you can go back and edit your post to include new stuff. You don't need to make three separate posts.


----------



## Vorput

> Naturally, nothing and nobody in the room is evil, other than the aura in Nameless’ chest




...Eugh... So Gareth doesn't detect evil as what is evil to the flame... but instead what is evil to the deranged fleshweaver?

If one of these were my characters, I would devote myself to becoming powerful enough to eventually track Mordain down, and wipe him and his abominations from the face of the earth.



> I have made you a paladin.” Utterly surprised, Gareth now realizes that it is true, feeling the full favor of his deity enveloping him. A tiny voice buried deep in his mind wants to shout, “What? What did you do to me?” but it is buried under an irresistible tide of gratitude.




...That's really quite terrifying...



Does the +4 enhancment bonus overlap the permanent penalty? So do they all have a +2 to con now?


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> And we all know Six's symbiont harness is vulnerable to sonic attacks, right?




Hmm - I sense something devious. Care to share why? Besides the very worthy reason of it obviously leading to more suffering, of course.

And to answer the question - sure, why not?



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> While I am not doubting your math, or your assumptions you are neglecting something - XP is also given for doing things out of combat.  So if session 52 you gave us 1080 xp for mobs, there is xp you need to give us for other things (i.e. making fun of the BBEG and walking out of his house unscathed because of hospitality tradition)




Well, that's part of my point, actually. The XP by CR is the only truly codified aspect of XP in the core rules, with the rest being suggestions for things the DM can do. So it's significantly arbitrary, just as the whole idea of XP for killing things is. There are lots of RPGs out there which involve character improvement, and there are a huge number of ways in which it's handled. There's no real reason there should be necessary correlation between character advancement in D&D and the killing of creatures. So since it's significantly arbitrary, it's just much easier for me to embrace the reality and not use any partiuclar formula and pretend it makes more sense than another. 

One of the interesting things I've noted over time on ENWorld is how many DMs seem to have dropped or are in the process of dropping XP based on CR, and quite often the entire concept of XP. For me as a DM, it just makes running my game so much easier without the former that I seriously can't conceive of 4e coming out with an XP system that would make me use formulae again. In fact, next time I DM, I'll drop XP totally. It's just not a necessary method to achieving what it is designed to. 



> Now given that, I don't really care much for XP. I just want to level. Now get me those extra two levels of Exorcist of the Silver Flame  (it's gotta be monumental, since you know I get to flame on like the Human Torch, and well it's the last time I will b etaking that class level, at 10).




Like I said - only another year or so 



> Survival = winning. We could have died in that encounter - very easily (i.e. by not stopping when they told us to, or making a silly move vs the werewolves.)




You know, that fight vs. the werewolves was some of the best teamwork I've seen from the PCs. You guys not only did just what was needed to keep the enemy off balance and weakened, but constantly set up allies to take advantage of what you did. I think they landed all of two hits between the four of them before you guys ripped them apart. 



> Also, shil's mobs would give more XP because they are above average (hit points ,elite array stats, and well they are shils).




Only creatures I create with PC classes get elite array stats, as I've mentioned before, which is what the MM says they should do. And, as I've also mentioned before, you guys are well above average too. It evens out.

Admittedly, the Shil-born template is a mean one, but that's another story 



> Anyhow, I am not arguing against Shils XP method, just saying some things that pop into my head. The only thing we really worry about XP for is crafting items (or XP spells) and maybe if someone dies.




True. That's why I think I could work things just fine without an XP total. Still, it's not something I'll switch to right now.



> Yea they say that now, but they don't have real perspective (ours). Let them sit through one of your sessions and they won't say Monty Haul...most likely they will say "but, but, we're level 20, and that level 2 orc barbarian with a rusty dagger just killed us." and then curl up into the fetal position and cry.






Now you're exaggerating. I can't murder you guys with 2nd lvl orc barbarians any more. I need at least CR 4 critters, and probably CR 5.


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> ...Eugh... So Gareth doesn't detect evil as what is evil to the flame... but instead what is evil to the deranged fleshweaver?




Well, the only evil in the room - that the players know of - was the evil in Nameless' chest and Mordain. And the latter could jst be protected. 

Or it could be just what you mentioned.

And no, I ain't telling 



> If one of these were my characters, I would devote myself to becoming powerful enough to eventually track Mordain down, and wipe him and his abominations from the face of the earth.




Luna's player is already there, and we're completely certain that Luna will be when she manages to recover from the little treatment Mordain did to them. Let's just say the ending of the session before last was accompanied by a series of dire threats against Mordain and swearing that whether she could kill him or not, she was going to wreck his lair and lead to the loss of all the research and studies he values. Both Luna and her player have real issues with any NPC controlling their actions, and Mordain did that to the nth degree, so she really wants blood. 



> ...That's really quite terrifying...




But ... but ... it was so ... *nice*. He made him a paladin! What could be cooler than that?

Admittedly, giving a Gatekeeper druid Aspects of the Aberrations isn't too bad, and maybe having impregnated Korm and/or Six as well isn't bad either, being neither of them is as, well, nice as making Gareth a paladin.

Right?



> Does the +4 enhancment bonus overlap the permanent penalty? So do they all have a +2 to con now?




Yes, effectively. I'm pretty sure that 13 (currently 12 for Nameless) pts less is going to come haunt them in the near future.

BTW, thanks for the advertising space in your sig. Much appreciated!


----------



## Vorput

> BTW, thanks for the advertising space in your sig. Much appreciated!




Heh, thanks for the great story hour!


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> Well, that's part of my point, actually. The XP by CR is the only truly codified aspect of XP in the core rules, with the rest being suggestions for things the DM can do.




This is where i have to heavily disagree with you. Yes I know the front of the DMG says this is all "suggestions" but honestly, we are playing dnd.  If you give a mob +100% life, +100% equipment, +100% abilities you just doubled the mob and should be giving +100% xp. The dmg spends some considerable time outlining it.  So yea, making a mob have 25% more life then the norm should result in the mob giving more xp.  Not "well maybe if i am nice".



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> One of the interesting things I've noted over time on ENWorld is how many DMs seem to have dropped or are in the process of dropping XP based on CR, and quite often the entire concept of XP. For me as a DM, it just makes running my game so much easier without the former that I seriously can't conceive of 4e coming out with an XP system that would make me use formulae again. In fact, next time I DM, I'll drop XP totally. It's just not a necessary method to achieving what it is designed to.



Dropping XP has a couple affects:
1) Easier for the DM. He doesn't have to calculate things which slows up his creation process.
2) Lets the DM control progression of leveling more easily. In a heavy dungeon crawl PCs may level very fast and the DM doesn't want that. Or the DM, in a low fighting campaign may want ot speed up leveling. 

Some DM's use different methods because it is a valuable resource, others because they can't "fathom" giving the players 3000 XP in a given adventure.  I don't care what a DM uses, as long as I level often enough to see progression (it gets boring being stagnant and I want to try new higher level abilities) and as long as it allows things like item crafting/etc.






			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> You know, that fight vs. the werewolves was some of the best teamwork I've seen from the PCs. You guys not only did just what was needed to keep the enemy off balance and weakened, but constantly set up allies to take advantage of what you did. I think they landed all of two hits between the four of them before you guys ripped them apart.



I always tell the group FOCUS FIRE. Works in World of Warcraft, works in this game too.




			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Only creatures I create with PC classes get elite array stats, as I've mentioned before, which is what the MM says they should do. And, as I've also mentioned before, you guys are well above average too. It evens out.




And you still manage to kill PCs a lot, so either we suck or you are just insane. I know I don't suck.



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Now you're exaggerating. I can't murder you guys with 2nd lvl orc barbarians any more. I need at least CR 4 critters, and probably CR 5.




Yea my point exactly


----------



## shilsen

We played this Saturday, but it'll be a while before the next update. I'm coming in on the end of the semester, so I've got crazy amounts of grading, especially since I let my students in one class rewrite any and all papers, and am letting students in the other mail me papers for feedback before they're finally due. They so do not pay me enough for this!

Also, I'll be off in India from mid-May to mid-August, so the campaign will be on hiatus then, and I'd like to save up some stuff so that I can make a few updates then. I've got 1.5 sessions worth left to cover, and hopefully we'll be playing twice more before I leave, so there'll presumably be a fair bit for me to write up.


----------



## fafhrd

Shilsen, you rat bastard.    Woe that I have just caught up with your storyhour!  <much lamenting and gnashing of teeth>


----------



## Furby076

I enjoy shil's trips back home cause it lets me take saturdays off, during the summer, for doing things like - you know - going outside and enjoying the sun, beach, girls.


----------



## shilsen

fafhrd said:
			
		

> Shilsen, you rat bastard.    Woe that I have just caught up with your storyhour!  <much lamenting and gnashing of teeth>



 Well, I do need to spread the RBDM love  Being an RBDM to your players/PCs is easy. But being it to people reading your story hour - now that takes doing!

Kidding aside, if I don't have an update up by the weekend, I'll definitely have one up during it.


----------



## Vorput

Page 2?  How sad...


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Page 2?  How sad...



 Unfortunately, end of semester grading kept me away from the promised weekend update. But at least I'm only off by one day. Here it is:

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The Angels reappear in the room at the Gray House that Nameless uses for this purpose. “All right,” he says, “I’m completely out of spells right now, so I’m not going anywhere till I’ve prepared mine for the day.” Korm nods, worriedly feeling the tentacles that still extend from the lower part of his face, and says in a muffled voice, “Same here.” Luna groans and says, “Damn! I wanted to go take a walk or something. Fine! I’ll do the same.”

“I’ll do that later,” says Gareth. “I need to go speak to some people.”

Nameless looks at him, shakes his head and says, sounding (and feeling) significantly concerned, “Gareth, this is Sharn! Do you really want to go out without being completely prepared? I know Mordain – really nice guy, wasn’t he? – gave us all of those protections, but why push it? You know we decided to never go get the paper here without being completely prepared to be killed.”

Gareth scratches his chin with his metal hand. “You do have a point. Thank you.” He smiles warmly back at Nameless, appreciating his comrade’s concern for him. “Not a problem,” smiles back Nameless, addressing the entire group, “I don’t want any of you getting into trouble if I can help it.” The Angels exchange nods and glances, enjoying the camaraderie of being among trusted friends who would do anything to protect each other, and then settle down to meditate for or study their various spells. Six stands quietly near the door, thinking about the changes Mordain made to him.

A little over an hour later (by which time Korm’s tentacles have thankfully retracted), all of the spellcasters are ready. Nameless recasts his _arcane sight_ and makes it permanent again. Having done so, he studies himself and the others. “Mordain wasn’t kidding – we’re all glowing with magical auras, way more than usual. All abjurations and transmutations, but there’s also a pair of enchantments. One moderate and the other strong. Wonder what they are. I’ll prepare an _analyze dweomer_ tomorrow and find out.”

“That’s good to know,” says Gareth. “Now let’s get outside.” 

Luna is already on the move by the time he finishes the sentence, so she is the one who surprises one of the warforged guards, who is entering the hallway with a broom. He comes to a stop and then rumbles, “You are back. Fett wished to be informed when you were. I will let him know.” As he’s turning away, Luna says, “Send him to the living room.”

A couple of minutes later, Fett hurries in to join the Angels. “Where in Dolurrh have you guys been? We’ve been running around like crazy trying to work out if you were alive! The divinations all said that you were, but we couldn’t find out anything else.”

Six asks, “But we weren’t gone that long. Were we?”

“You left for Droaam over two weeks ago! I know it’s that long, but considering the stuff that happens with you and that it was Droaam you were going to, I figured there was a little reason to get concerned. Especially when Trillia couldn’t get a _sending_ through to Nameless. We got the Archierophant to try one on Gareth too, but got the same result. She did a divination later to ensure that you guys were alive, which she said you were, but we double-checked via Balan and Trillia.” Fett chuckles. “Good thing a lot of the more powerful spellcasters in town have some connection with you. Anyway, what kept you?”

“Mordain the Fleshweaver.”

“Mordain the what?”

“Fleshweaver. And no, it’s not as bad as it sounds. In fact, he’s a very nice and friendly guy.”

Fett looks around at them all curiously. “Hey, what’s with the … er, third eye, Six? And Luna looks a little …um, slimmer.”

“It’s all thanks to Mordain. He fixed us up a bit. We went to him to check about Nameless’ condition, and he did some work on us.”

“O-kay! I’m probably better off not knowing, so I’ll go to the important stuff – did you find out what’s the situation with you, Nameless?”

The Angels exchange glances and then Nameless says, “All right – but make sure nobody finds out.” He proceeds to explain about the ‘situation’ to a rapidly more alarmed Fett. When he is done, the changeling shakes his head. “And here I thought working with my old friends in the Blades led to crazy stuff. You guys are in a whole other league! So, what’s the plan?”

“We’re thinking of getting out of Sharn for a bit soon and doing a little traveling. But we’ll be back regularly. You can have the house to yourself while we’re gone and look after it. Is that all right?”

“Sure,” shrugs Fett. “As for going somewhere, there might be a few options. Hass ir’Tain wants to speak to you. He sent a message along with the invite to the Tain Gala which arrived a few days ago. Of course, it was on the 6th, the day before, so you missed it. But Hass will be in town for a few more days and said you should contact him when you return.” Fett grins and adds, “By the way, the Gala invite was just for Gareth.”

As Gareth  grins and looks at Luna, Fett continues. “But Hass wants to speak to all of you. There’s a second invite to that end, from Joseth ir’Kalain. I know you guys don’t know him, so I checked him out. He’s a minor noble, but he’s also the representative of Q’barran interests in the city, since Q’barra doesn’t have an embassy here. My sources say that Joseth’s supposed to be a shrewd negotiator but a fairly good and honorable man, for what it’s worth. No idea what he wants to talk to you about. As for the third….” 

Fett reaches into a pocket and produces a letter, in the distinctive envelope of House Sivis. “It arrived a week ago, and since I was already wondering about your safety then, I opened and read it. Sorry.” As the Angels wave away the apology, Fett hands over the letter, saying, “It’s from your former companion Corven.”

Nameless reads the message quickly and passes it around, while explaining what it says. Corven, who is still at New Cyre working for Prince Oargev ir’Wynarn, only survivor of the Cyran royal family. Oargev, working with Houses Cannith and Deneith, is planning another expedition into the Mournland, which will follow up on the previous one that slew the Lord of Blades. It will check on the situation with warforged in the Mournland, while also seeking to recover more information about the operation the Lord of Blades had set up there, as well as hopefully recovering some artifacts lost during the Day of Mourning and gather more information about the Mournland. Corven asks if the Angels, whom he has been reading about in the Korranberg Chronicle, are interested in participating, since their unusual abilities and power could be a great asset. 

Fett nods somberly and says, “That was the expedition my friends were killed on. If you do go on this, I’d appreciate if you’d try to find out whatever you could about what happened to them.”

“Certainly,” says Gareth. “But are we going there?”

Korm says, “The Mournland is one place I haven’t been, and one place I’m in no hurry to go. On the other hand, that’s one place very few people will be following us.”

“In that case,” says Luna, “I’m good to go.”

“It just means anyone following us in there is more dangerous, that’s all,” says Six. “But I’m curious what’s in there.”

“We’ll make a decision after speaking to Hass and this Joseth, okay?” suggests Nameless.

“Sounds good.” Gareth rises. “And now I really do need to go. Lalia’s probably been missing me, and I need to see some other people too.”

* * *
Only an unusual degree of self-control prevents Ythana Morr from placing her head in her hands. Instead, only the knuckles of her clasped hands whiten slightly as she asks Gareth in a flat, slightly brittle, voice, “You are certain about all of that? This … Fleshweaver could have been lying to you all for his own ends, could he not?”

“No, no,” says Gareth confidently. “Mordain wouldn’t lie to us. He was very helpful. As I said, he made me a paladin and ....” This time, a small muscle twitches in the Archierophant’s jaw, but she says nothing. Gareth continues, “…. did some work on all of us. I’m quite certain that what he said of Nameless is true.”

Ythana breathes deeply and says, “So – if you are correct, this means Nameless puts not just everyone in Sharn now, but all of Khorvaire at risk! Tell me what you would like me to do.”

“I thought you might contact the Keeper of the Flame. She might have the power to do something about it, or provide guidance about what we should do?”

“Very likely. I shall do so. But, in view of this development, let me ask you now, what would your reaction be if we need to transport Nameless to Flamekeep?”

“I would help however I can,” says Gareth. Ythana relaxes slightly and begins to nod, but then he adds, “Of course, Nameless might not want to go.” The Archierophant stares at him silently for a few moments, and then asks, her voice flat, “Does that matter at a time like this? If you are correct, then we must do what needs to be done, whether Nameless like it or no.”

Gareth hesitates, and then says, as politely as he can, “But that would be wrong. Nameless is a free agent, and while I will try to persuade him to go to Flamekeep, I cannot allow him to be forced to go there. It would be wrong.”

Ythana’s voice this time is completely cold. “Have you by any chance heard of the concept of the greater good?” 

“Of course, but I really don’t think it would be the right thing to do here. Having Nameless in the same place is very risky, and with his abilities he – and we – can guard him as few can. Of course, as I mentioned, I’ll try to persuade him to go there himself.”

Ythana opens her mouth, shuts it with a clack of teeth, and then speaks again, evidently keeping herself under tight control. “We will discuss this later when I have spoken to the Keeper and heard her will. In the interim, I suggest you spend some time considering where your true allegiances. You may go.”

Gareth thinks about explaining himself further, but it’s clear that the Archierophant is not interested. He excuses himself and leaves, thinking as he goes that it’s a pity she doesn’t quite understand the whole issue of loyalty to a friend. 

* * *
Gareth’s meeting with Lalia is much more pleasant. Though she too is significantly concerned about what he reveals, she is naturally much more concerned about his well-being and pleased to have him back (relatively) whole and unscathed. While Lalia isn’t as pleased about the news that the Angels will, in all likelihood, have to leave Sharn for some time in the near future, she tells Gareth that she will be there for the future and will look forward to his return. She also promises any help that she can provide when it comes to dealing with Nameless’ situation, though neither Gareth nor she can think of an area where her abilities could really help.

An expectedly similar offer comes from Cedric, once Gareth meets and informs him too about the situation. He is also, even more expectedly, roundly amused at Gareth’s description of his meeting with the Archierophant.

The older paladin looks at Gareth over the top of two glasses, holding the drinks that the latter has become consistently more used to indulging in with Cedric, and slowly stops laughing. “So she tried to explain to you about the greater good and you told her how much more important being nice to your buddy was?” Cedric shakes his head sadly. “Bloody hell – how come I miss things like this? That’s just beautiful, man!”

Gareth shrugs a little embarrassedly. “I wish she didn’t take it that badly. But it makes perfect sense, right?”

Cedric looks him up and down curiously. “In a manner of speaking. But, honestly, not in keeping with what I’d have expected from you. I’m beginning to wonder what this Mordain did to you – or your friends – that you don’t know. You sound a little different.” His eyes narrow. “Especially when you speak of this Mordain.”

“Well, Mordain really was very kind to us. And I feel the same. Nameless did mention that he’d _detect_ed two powerful auras of enchantment on us, which he’ll try to identify tomorrow. Maybe that’s what you’re noticing.”

“Maybe. Perhaps it’s part of all these ‘modifications’ you mentioned. Or maybe this Fleshweaver seriously f*cked with your heads.” Cedric sips his drink silently for a few seconds, and then says, “Anyway, the situation with Nameless is a bigger concern. As I said before, I’ll help any way I can. Though, I’ve got to say, you folks are getting way out of my league, from what I hear. So it’s a good thing that it sounds like cutting Nameless’ head off won’t be a solution. Because I wasn’t looking forward to it, even if it became essential, and now I’m not even sure I could do it.”

“No,” says Gareth quickly, feeling a surge of protective feeling for his friend, “That’s definitely not an option.”

“So you’ve been told, to be precise. But taking it to the Keeper was a good idea, I think. I’ve only met Jaela once, but that girl has some serious class to her. Not just because she’s the Keeper I mean, and the fact that she’s something like eleven or twelve now doesn’t change that.” He eyes Gareth thoughtfully. “Tell me – if Ythana tells you that Nameless _must_ be taken to Flamekeep right now, what would you say? Assuming he doesn’t want to go, that is.”

“Well,” Gareth replies slowly, “As I told her, I’d have to respectfully disagree and take Nameless’ side.”

Cedric’s face slowly splits into a wide grin. “Tell you what, if that happens, be good and say, ‘Hello’ from me to Ythana.” His smile expands at the look on Gareth’s face and he says, “I’m kidding. She’d probably smack you silly if you did that. Or would try to. And you’ll have enough trouble as it is.”

Cedric and Gareth talk some more, before the latter finally takes his leave. As he is going, Cedric says, “Just one more thing. I appreciate the trust, but you might want to not be sharing this information with a lot of people. More than a few people I can think of would not be happy with this information, and some would try to take advantage of it.”

“Of course. We’re not about to spread this around if we can help it.”

Gareth’s statement is only very strictly true in the sense that the Angels are not going to spread this around in the future. By the time he has met Cedric, Nameless has already related the details of their trip to, and experiences with, Mordain. And so has Korm, to Surr’kal, the local Gatekeeper, in Carosten Park.

Trillia takes the news with more equanimity than anyone who has heard the news bar Cedric, her study of Xoriat having long convinced her that the plane of madness would someday again manage to extend its tendrils to Eberron through the void. While she had not expected it to potentially occur during her lifetime, or though the form of her colleague, she recovers quickly from her initial surprise and begins to discuss methods of possibly dealing with the problem, though neither Nameless nor she can come up with any long-term solutions. 

Surr’kal’s response is precisely the opposite, as he sits and stares at Korm with comically bulging eyes and mouth hanging open for long moments before he can speak. While the whole issue of Korm now having the ability to take on aspects of various aberrations and, according to Mordain, being able to take on more such forms by eating a large part of one, is something that would normally have horrified the druid. But now, with the news about Xoriat, he completely ignores it. Eventually, Surr’kal composes himself and says, “This is far too important news – and potentially disastrous – for me to make decisions about. I shall send Gurr’khan a message. That will take a while, so please be very careful what you are doing. And keep a careful eye on Nameless.”

“I will. We’re not about to let anything to happen to him. Don’t worry.”

Surr’kal’s expression says everything there is to say about that suggestion.

* * * * *
The next morning, before they are leave to visit Joseth ir’Kalain and Hass ir’Tain, Nameless casts an _analyze dweomer_ and makes a couple of interesting discoveries. The two spells that are in effect on each of the Angels are a _geas_ and a _programmed amnesia_. 

“I’m presuming the _geas_,” he explains, “Is what is giving us that feeling we discussed that we should not come within miles of Mordain’s home.”

“It’s not like he needed to do that,” grumbles Luna. “I’d have liked to thank him for the cool stuff, but if he doesn’t want us to do that, he just needed to ask.”

“True,” says Nameless, feeling as if he should defend the Fleshweaver, “But maybe he just wanted to make sure. After all, he does have really complicated and important work, and he took a lot of time off for us.”

“That’s true,” agrees Six. “But what is this _programmed amnesia_? The name worries me.”

“It’s a spell of the ninth valence, which is as powerful as spells can get, and very powerful even by those standards. I’ve read about it, and supposedly only one of the greatest mages of the past could cast it, but Mordain evidently can. It basically gives the caster access to all of the target’s memories, and gives him the ability to entirely recreate that target’s memories, by adding new ones or removing those that exist, and actually rebuild someone’s personality as one wants.” 

The Angels are all silent for a few seconds while they assimilate this information. “So,” says Korm slowly, “Mordain might have rebuilt our personalities or memories?”

“I guess so,” says Nameless. 

“So,” says Luna with a frown, just as slowly as Korm, “Everything we remember about our past might be a fake? Why would he do that? After all, he knows we trust him.”

“Or maybe,” Gareth says, reluctantly, “We just remember trusting him because he put that in our memories. And personalities.”

Luna growls. “Now I’m getting pissed off. And still feeling really friendly towards Mordain. This seriously messed up.” Then she looks up suddenly. “Hey – what about all that stuff with that damn Shard and the daelkyr and the rakshasas and all? Did that not happen?”

“I’m fairly sure it all did,” says Nameless. “We know people, like Trillia and others, who remember us telling them about the events. We’ve got the Korranberg Chronicle printing stories we told Flim. All …,” he corrects himself, “… or most of that is certainly true. Little details, and things we haven’t told anyone about, we can’t be sure of. The same goes for things we’ve kept private, which may have been erased.” _The Mournland! How much of that was true? And did Mordain put any of that in there? Or remove any? And how can I know? I’ve never told anyone about it. Damn!_ Aloud, he says, “We’ll have to think about this and keep an eye out for things which don’t fit our memories.”

The others agree and, after a little more discussion, proceed to leave the Gray House. On the airship leaving Ocean View, the Angels are all unusually silent, wondering how much of what they know of their individual and collective pasts and believe of the world around them is actually true.*

The first stop is at the home of Joseth ir’Kalain, a well-maintained but modest apartment that lacks the ostentation common to the large buildings surrounding it in Mithral Tower, the wealthy residential district in Upper Central. Joseth, who looks and sounds more like a middle-class businessman than the owner of a Q’barran dragonshard mine (as Fett has told the Angels he is), greets the Angels and quickly gets down to business. He says that there have been recent problems with the lizardfolk in Q’barra, with multiple attacks on outlying settlements, and rumors of a lizardfolk army gathering to launch an all-out war. With most of Q’barra being covered in dense jungle, regular troops have difficulty there, and this situation may require more varied skills. He explains that he has read and heard much about the Angels’ unique capabilities, and believes that they might be able to succeed where hundreds or even thousands of soldiers might not. Joseth, on behalf of King Sebastes ir’Kesslan of Q’barra, would like to hire them to the end of investigating the lizardfolk and helping to destroy or disperse the army, assuming one actually exists.

Luna is immediately intrigued at the idea of spending time in the jungle, and considers the possibility of using _flame strike_s on an entire army worth of targets an additional bonus, but the others are a little more circumspect. Joseth also mentions that the Q’barran jungles hold many ruins extending as far back as the fall of the Dhakaani empire and earlier, so the Angels would have additional opportunities for exploration, a suggestion which isn’t as enticing as it could be, since Nameless figures that in his current condition he should stay away from places which might have some connections with the daelkyr and their minions. The Angels promise to consider the offer but will not commit themselves yet. 

They then proceed to descend to the Ambassador Towers district to meet with Hass. The young parliamentarian is pleased to see them back and looking hale and hearty (partly due to the various magical disguises the Angels now use daily to hide Nameless’ tentacle or Six’s third eye). He informs them that he has found a task befitting their abilities, which should also help the nation. As some of them know, Princess Haydith ir’Wynarn, younger sister to King Kaius III of Karrnath, now dwells in the Brelish capital Wroat, while King Boranel’s youngest son Halix and daughter Borina live in Korth in Karrnath. This exchange was intended to improve diplomatic relations between the countries after the War and is generally regarded as having been quite successful. 

Haydith is about to return home for a visit and will be leaving Wroat via airship in a week’s time. There is some information that members of the terrorist organization the Emerald Claw are likely to try attacking her during the journey, as reprisal for Breland cracking down on Emerald Claw cells (coincidentally, their Sharn headquarters was the Gray House) and their outlawing in Karrnath. Since the Angels are the most powerful adventurers in Breland, as well as now consisting of specifically Brelish and Karrnathi members, they are the perfect choice to provide special protection to bolster Haydith’s regular security.

After providing these details, Hass explains that this assignment involves no payment, since the Angels are expected to do their duty as loyal members of the nation. However, he will not try to coerce them in any way and they are free to refuse, with no offense taken if they do. If they do carry out the task, however, very powerful people in two nations would be indebted to them.

The Angels ask for an opportunity to discuss the offer privately, and when allowed to do so, quickly agree that this suits them perfectly. Not only will it take them out of Sharn and involve doing a fair amount of traveling, but the possibility of getting some very powerful patrons is too good to pass up. The Angels head back to Hass and give him their agreement.


* This is the bit where I called a momentary break and informed the players that anything and everything that we had played out and seen occur earlier in the campaign now might simply be a memory implanted by Mordain. And events might have occurred that have been removed from their collective memories. I never planned for any of this when they agreed to meet Mordain, but, boy, am I going to enjoy milking it for all it’s worth


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> * This is the bit where I called a momentary break and informed the players that anything and everything that we had played out and seen occur earlier in the campaign now might simply be a memory implanted by Mordain. And events might have occurred that have been removed from their collective memories. I never planned for any of this when they agreed to meet Mordain, but, boy, am I going to enjoy milking it for all it’s worth




Eh... So it goes. Personally, I think you'll have about as much sucess as at milking a cat. All of the characters are defined much more by their personalities than their past and their personalities are something you don't really have any control over.


----------



## Solarious

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Eh... So it goes. Personally, I think you'll have about as much sucess as at milking a cat. All of the characters are defined much more by their personalities than their past and their personalities are something you don't really have any control over.



 You go along and keep thinking that. Ask Gareth sometime how that turned out. 

But seriously, after what happened to Gareth, you really believe that? I mean, if shilsen has taught you _anything_, it should be that the past isn't the dustbin of history, but a living collection of grudges and secrets that jump up and maul off your face the second it gets a good shot at scarring you. How did you guys end up with all these modifications in the first place? Oh yeah, you guys ran off to Xen'drik in the middle of a plot thread... and then failed to kill the druid dangling at the end of that thread when you came back... who came back and killed Nameless... and now you're juggling the second nuke of the campaign. shil might be the one who puts you through all this, but you really have to realize that ultimately, you all are the ones who are stepping through those obviously trapped doors.

You know, I was considering waiting to make a more complete post, but this was seriously too good to pass up. '...defined much more by their personalities than their past' indeed. Next thing you'll tell me is that a troupe of thugs you should be able to wither by looking in their direction can't soundly trounce you. 

Don't make me list all the ideas I have whirring in my head that can seriously screw Nameless up.


----------



## ajanders

I keep hearing Mordain "made Gareth a paladin".
Given Mordain, that's alarmingly non-specific.

I'm thinking a small, lawful good symbiote grown from a bit of paladin Mordain had in storage and stored in Gareth's silver hand.

I really have no trouble picturing Gareth holding his hand out to turn undead when a panel springs open in his palm and a minature Cedric pops out with his own tiny holy symbol and turns the undead for him. Then Cedric retracts, the panel closes, and Gareth looks confused at all the expressions of horror.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> You go along and keep thinking that. Ask Gareth sometime how that turned out.




You know, that's the first thing I thought of when I read Rackhir's comment 

Speaking of which, as this update should have indicated and the next one will hopefully help underline, AviLazar has been doing a really good job roleplaying the difference in Gareth with regard to the memory/personality modification done by Mordain. One thing I told the players was that the PCs now have an even stronger feeling of camaraderie towards their companions than they already did, as well as a very strong interest in looking after each other, especially Nameless. That's why Gareth responded as he did to the Archierophant.



> But seriously, after what happened to Gareth, you really believe that? I mean, if shilsen has taught you _anything_, it should be that the past isn't the dustbin of history, but a living collection of grudges and secrets that jump up and maul off your face the second it gets a good shot at scarring you. How did you guys end up with all these modifications in the first place? Oh yeah, you guys ran off to Xen'drik in the middle of a plot thread... and then failed to kill the druid dangling at the end of that thread when you came back... who came back and killed Nameless... and now you're juggling the second nuke of the campaign. shil might be the one who puts you through all this, but you really have to realize that ultimately, you all are the ones who are stepping through those obviously trapped doors.




That whole business with Cainan actually tied everything together for the PCs even more than you mentioned. When they ignored the Gatekeepers' request to investigate the problems with the water supply, and esp. since they took off to Xen'drik, Cainan pulled off the plague that he did. Which led to Korm coming to Sharn, and Cedric going there from Stormreach. And the existence of the plague led to the Daask-Boromar battles, which had begun again due to the Angels taking out the Daask payroll, being put on hold, and let Daask regather its strength. There are a few other things connected with it which have also had an effect on the campaign, and some that are likely to continue occurring. And, of course, the plague is hardly the only example. As you said, the past constantly informs the present and the future, all of them modified by PC action and choice. If it didn't, then it wouldn't be a campaign, but would just be a set of one-offs occurring in succession.



> You know, I was considering waiting to make a more complete post, but this was seriously too good to pass up. '...defined much more by their personalities than their past' indeed. Next thing you'll tell me is that a troupe of thugs you should be able to wither by looking in their direction can't soundly trounce you.




Ouch! A hit, a palpable hit 



> Don't make me list all the ideas I have whirring in my head that can seriously screw Nameless up.




Oh, please do! At least in the other threads I put together for ideas for ways to screw the PCs.



			
				ajanders said:
			
		

> I keep hearing Mordain "made Gareth a paladin".
> Given Mordain, that's alarmingly non-specific.




And very intentionally so of course.



> I'm thinking a small, lawful good symbiote grown from a bit of paladin Mordain had in storage and stored in Gareth's silver hand.
> 
> I really have no trouble picturing Gareth holding his hand out to turn undead when a panel springs open in his palm and a minature Cedric pops out with his own tiny holy symbol and turns the undead for him. Then Cedric retracts, the panel closes, and Gareth looks confused at all the expressions of horror.




You almost made me spit up all over my computer screen! That's beautiful, man - just beautiful !


----------



## Vorput

Is _programmed amnesia_ a published spell? or something you created?

I've actually got this GREAT idea for a campaign now where the characters start as good-aligned adventurers, till a point where for no good reason some really high level clerics/paladins capture them, but then just as mysteriously release them.

The trick would be they're all evil characters, who the good guys captured and reprogrammed (for some reason- maybe to infiltrate some cult they're a part of)- and the first several sessions of role-playing was all just inserted memories.  It'd be hard to pull off well, but if I could.. man- that'd be awesome.  Especially if their mentors/friends were actually agents the Clerics inserted after they had modified their memories.... And if one of the players was in the loop from the ground-up, they could be a 'mole' inserted by the Paladins...

Granted, my players tend to be pretty free-willed... me telling them their characters had different alignment/personalities than they though probably wouldn't go over well...  might even end the campaign, but it does seem like a good idea...


----------



## Rackhir

Solarious said:
			
		

> But seriously, after what happened to Gareth, you really believe that? I mean, if shilsen has taught you _anything_, it should be that the past isn't the dustbin of history, but a living collection of grudges and secrets that jump up and maul off your face the second it gets a good shot at scarring you. How did you guys end up with all these modifications in the first place? Oh yeah, you guys ran off to Xen'drik in the middle of a plot thread... and then failed to kill the druid dangling at the end of that thread when you came back... who came back and killed Nameless... and now you're juggling the second nuke of the campaign. shil might be the one who puts you through all this, but you really have to realize that ultimately, you all are the ones who are stepping through those obviously trapped doors.




We are the people who pull the leaver marked "Danger". 

No matter what we do or don't do, something is going to come back to bite us in the ass. What we do/don't do might change exactly what, but something is going to. As Shil has posted above. We can't cover every plot thread he tosses out and just being involved in some plot threads is going to screw us. As not being involved would screw us in a different way. So we are basically going to get screwed no matter what we do.

So yes our past is in a sense irrelevant since we're going to be getting screwed no matter what.



			
				Solarious said:
			
		

> You know, I was considering waiting to make a more complete post, but this was seriously too good to pass up. '...defined much more by their personalities than their past' indeed. Next thing you'll tell me is that a troupe of thugs you should be able to wither by looking in their direction can't soundly trounce you.




What I mean by pasts aren't as important as personalities is this. Here are the backgrounds for the Angels only slightly summarized.

Luna - Doesn't even has as much history as Korm and Six. Has ONLY a personality and her personality is something even epic level spells are impotent to change.

Korm and Six's History - Was born. Met up with these guys and decided to go risk my life with them.

Nameless - Wandered out of the mists of the Mournland shortly after the Day of Mourning. Doesn't remember anything about who he is/was. Insists that he is "nameless". Has a rock he calls Edgar, that he talks to.

Gareth - Go read the Rogues Gallery entry.

Only Gareth has a history that can't be summed up in slightly more than a sentance. Nameless in particular is completely unconcerned with what he was or may have been. He only cares about what he is and what he may become.

Most of what the characters are comes out of the personalities of the players and that's something no amount of in game magic can change (unless perhaps you're playing "Dark Dungeons").



			
				Solarious said:
			
		

> Don't make me list all the ideas I have whirring in my head that can seriously screw Nameless up.




Like you wouldn't tell Shil anyway.



			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> Is programmed amnesia a published spell? or something you created?




It's a spell from the Spell Compendium. It might have originally have been from one of the Complete books, but I don't recall.


----------



## Seekerofskill

Solarious said:
			
		

> You go along and keep thinking that. Ask Gareth sometime how that turned out.
> 
> But seriously, after what happened to Gareth, you really believe that? I mean, if shilsen has taught you _anything_, it should be that the past isn't the dustbin of history, but a living collection of grudges and secrets that jump up and maul off your face the second it gets a good shot at scarring you. How did you guys end up with all these modifications in the first place? Oh yeah, you guys ran off to Xen'drik in the middle of a plot thread... and then failed to kill the druid dangling at the end of that thread when you came back... who came back and killed Nameless... and now you're juggling the second nuke of the campaign. shil might be the one who puts you through all this, but you really have to realize that ultimately, you all are the ones who are stepping through those obviously trapped doors.
> 
> You know, I was considering waiting to make a more complete post, but this was seriously too good to pass up. '...defined much more by their personalities than their past' indeed. Next thing you'll tell me is that a troupe of thugs you should be able to wither by looking in their direction can't soundly trounce you.
> 
> Don't make me list all the ideas I have whirring in my head that can seriously screw Nameless up.




Your points would have more weight if not for the group's primary way of dealing with things, denial and self-delusion.


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Is _programmed amnesia_ a published spell? or something you created?




As Rackhir posted above, it's from Spell Compendium. It originally came out in Complete Arcane. 



> I've actually got this GREAT idea for a campaign now...
> 
> Granted, my players tend to be pretty free-willed... me telling them their characters had different alignment/personalities than they though probably wouldn't go over well...  might even end the campaign, but it does seem like a good idea...




It sounds like a cool idea, but as usual, you'd have to make the judgement call on how it works with your particular set of players. It's definitely not a concept that would work with all groups. I've got a pretty free-willed group of players too, and the way I would do it if I used your idea would be to leave the eventual choice of which way to go up to the PCs/players. 

Once they gradually came to the realization that they were actually bad guys who'd been reprogrammed, the PCs would still have the memories of being good guys (the caster of Programmed Amnesia can include a trigger event to remove some or all of the programming, but I wouldn't use that option), and could try to act on them instead and actually become the heroes that they were forced to be. Think of Schwarzenegger's character in "Total Recall" as an example. If you leave that up to the players and PCs to decide, then it gives them the choice to retain their character concepts, or part of it,while also having a lot of scope for fun roleplaying and adventures as they struggle between their 'natural' and 'programmed' characters. 

Something which is a big no-no for me as a DM is messing up a player's character concept, but messing with it in the short-term is just fine, especially if you can make sure that the player trusts you. That's precisely what I did with Gareth, Kizmet, the demon in his sword and finding out that he never was a paladin. AviLazar knew there's no way I would permanently remove his paladinhood, so he rolled with it very well, and it led to some really fun stuff in-game, created some very nice roleplaying situations for him, and opened up a whole lot of future plot points. And he ended up as a paladin again. Everyone wins. 

In short, I think your concept can work out just fine. 



			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> So yes our past is in a sense irrelevant since we're going to be getting screwed no matter what.




Then, in that sense, the past of every character in every campaign is irrelevant.



> What I mean by pasts aren't as important as personalities is this. Here are the backgrounds for the Angels only slightly summarized.
> 
> ...
> 
> Most of what the characters are comes out of the personalities of the players and that's something no amount of in game magic can change (unless perhaps you're playing "Dark Dungeons").




"Dark Dungeons"? 

As for no in-game magic changing the personalities of the players, that may be true, but whether in-game magic - or anything else - changes the personalities of the characters depends on the player's willingness and ability to roleplay influences on the character. If I told you that Mordain had reworked Nameless' personality and memories to make him a self-aggrandizing NE megalomaniac with the primary aim of taking down the Brelish monarchy or to make him an CG crusader with an especial dislike for goblinoids and the nation of Darguun, as a player you could still say, "Screw that - I'm going to play Nameless exactly the same way and ignore it." 

So you're right, in-game magic can't change the character personality, though theroretically in-game magic plus me going "No, your character can't do X now" or "Your character does Y now" would change the personality. But since the latter is a lousy idea, I'd never do it, which means it's squarely in the hands of the players. I just figure that having character personality not change or develop at all, whatever in-game events happen, is a little boring. But that's up to the player to decide.



> Like you wouldn't tell Shil anyway.




Someone sounds put upon 



			
				SeekerofSkill said:
			
		

> Your points would have more weight if not for the group's primary way of dealing with things, denial and self-delusion.




As in the PCs will deny and delude themselves that they have no influence on what happens to them? Sounds about right


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> "Dark Dungeons"?




It's from the infamous Jack Chick tract. "Dark Dungeons" was the name of the pseudo-D&D game the tract was warning people against. Since playing it taught you "real" magic that you could use to control people's minds.

http://www.chick.com/reading/tracts/0046/0046_01.asp


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> It's from the infamous Jack Chick tract. "Dark Dungeons" was the name of the pseudo-D&D game the tract was warning people against. Since playing it taught you "real" magic that you could use to control people's minds.
> 
> http://www.chick.com/reading/tracts/0046/0046_01.asp



 Oh, I recognized the reference, hence the smiley. It's hard to have been on ENWorld for a long while and not have made the pleasure of Chick's acquaintance.


----------



## shilsen

On Saturday, we played our last session before I take off to India for the summer. Once I'm there (16th), I'll start writing up and posting updates again. I've got two sessions to cover and we'll be handling some things online which should provide added material, so there should be a few more updates to come.


----------



## Solarious

And then, we have months and months to plot out the numerous and varied locations the Angels shall be visiting in a whirlwind tour of Khorvaire for the next year or so. They'll thank us, don't you agree?


----------



## fafhrd

I've seen you popping your head out in general, Shilsen.  If you have time to gab, you have time to write an update.  

Seriously though, I'm going to miss the storyhour.  Have an enjoyable and safe trip.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> And then, we have months and months to plot out the numerous and varied locations the Angels shall be visiting in a whirlwind tour of Khorvaire for the next year or so. They'll thank us, don't you agree?




Oh yes - I'm sure they will (where's an 'angelic innocence' smiley when you need one?). And it's a very timely break, since the PCs made a potentially recurring enemy in their last session. One with lots of abilities, some strong (and deadly) connections, and right now a really burning hatred for them. Also, appropriately enough for what's turning out to be this campaign arc, one who really hates Nameless. So the break is perfectly timed for me to work out exactly what she's going to be doing, and how. 

Sorry, make that "for us to work out" 



			
				fafhrd said:
			
		

> I've seen you popping your head out in general, Shilsen. If you have time to gab, you have time to write an update.




Probably true, but when you're doing the myriad things you've got to do as a student and a foreigner when traveling from the US nowadays, as well as additional work since I've got to put away all my stuff in storage since I'm not returning to this apartment, not to mention grading 120 papers and exams, I think "escaping" is a more appropriate term than "time to gab" 



> Seriously though, I'm going to miss the storyhour. Have an enjoyable and safe trip.




Thanks. Anyway, there'll be at least four and maybe more story hour updates before I'm temporarily done, so don't start missing it yet.


----------



## fafhrd

shilsen said:
			
		

> Probably true, but when you're doing the myriad things you've got to do as a student and a foreigner when traveling from the US nowadays, as well as additional work since I've got to put away all my stuff in storage since I'm not returning to this apartment, not to mention grading 120 papers and exams, I think "escaping" is a more appropriate term than "time to gab"



The simple byproduct of being so competent: high expectations.  



> Thanks. Anyway, there'll be at least four and maybe more story hour updates before I'm temporarily done, so don't start missing it yet.



Not a chance.


----------



## Vorput

> Oh yes - I'm sure they will (where's an 'angelic innocence' smiley when you need one?). And it's a very timely break, since the PCs made a potentially recurring enemy in their last session. One with lots of abilities, some strong (and deadly) connections, and right now a really burning hatred for them. Also, appropriately enough for what's turning out to be this campaign arc, one who really hates Nameless. So the break is perfectly timed for me to work out exactly what she's going to be doing, and how.




They called Trillia fat, didn't they?


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> They called Trillia fat, didn't they?






Not that bad, but they might have called another, probably more deadly, person fat. I don't know for sure. 

I'll often jump forward in time during a session for reasons of time and pacing, skipping a scene or situation that we know won't affect something coming up after that, and returning to the skipped situation and playing it out later. During this escort job they accepted, the airship they're traveling on made a stop at Fairhaven for the princess to pay her respects to Queen Aurala of Aundair. The PCs got to meet her too. We skipped over that meeting, so we'll be playing it out over email during the break. With this bunch, just about anything's possible, so for all I know Aurala might be sending assassins after them or declaring war on Breland and/or Karrnath due to them. I'll have to wait and see.


----------



## Rackhir

After a false start involving his inability to enter England (due to possible state secret violations I can't tell you why), Shil has managed to make it back to India and is now working on an update for the story hour. Which he promises will be completed sometime before the heat death of the universe.


----------



## shilsen

As promised by Rackhir above, here's the next update:

* * * * * * * * * *
*What do you do with an Archierophant like Ythana?*

Now that they have made a decision, the Angels inform Joseth that they will be busy for a month, but after that, might be free to help deal with the situation in Q’Barra, assuming it’s still an issue at that point. Though clearly a little disappointed, Joseth takes the news with good grace, saying that he will check on them after a month has passed. 

The Angels also dispatch a message via House Sivis to New Cyre, informing Corven that they would be interested in the Mournland expedition but will be busy for a month. Since the preparations for the expedition will take longer than that, once they are free they will contact him and see if some arrangement can be made. 

* * * * *

The next morning, the Angels receive a pair of messages. The first is a _sending_ from Sora Teraza to Nameless, saying, “If you receive this, please respond as soon as possible. I’m concerned about your safety. You’ve been gone a month now. What happened with Mordain?” Nameless promptly replies, “No problems. Mordain is the kindest, warmest, nicest person we met. We’re busy right now but everything is fine.”

The second message is delivered by a nondescript looking half-elf, and is from Talleon Haliar Tonan, Captain of the King’s Dark Lanterns in Sharn. He ‘invites’ them to visit him at the Citadel, since they need to “discuss some mutual acquaintances.” The Angels inform the messenger that they will do so, and are getting ready to depart, when the next message arrives, accompanied by a familiar, if recently rarely seen, face – Bodo.  

The erstwhile street urchin turned Guardian Angel mascot/groupie turned novice at the Cathedral of the Silver Flame carries a note from the Archierophant to Gareth. It says that Ythana has contacted the Keeper of the Flame and will be traveling to Flamekeep this morning. Gareth should not leave the city until she returns and speaks to him, which should be within a few days. 

Having delivered the missive, Bodo settles down to chat with the Angels about how they’ve been, what they’re doing, and the like. Finally, he asks, “Do you guys have any old stuff you can give me?”

“What kind of ‘old stuff’, and what do you want it for?” asks Gareth suspiciously.

Looking slightly guilty, Bodo continues, “Oh, just bits of old armor or weapons. Maybe something you used and don’t need. Especially stuff from your adventures would be great.”

Six emits a metallic chortle. “You are selling them to the other students, right?”

Bodo looks just a little more guilty as he hastily explains, “Yes. But they’re such big fans of you guys that they’d love to have some stuff like that. And since they barely let us have any money at the school, I thought this would be a good honest way to make some.”

“I’m sure we could find you some…,” begins Luna, when Gareth interrupts firmly, “No! We are not giving you things to sell to your classmates. You’re there to study and improve yourself and learn about the Flame, not run a business.”

“Oh, come on, Gareth! It’s just a little stuff. And I’m making the money honestly, aren’t I? Please!” Bodo’s pleas are unavailing, and he is quickly sent back to the school by Gareth, who then informs the others that they should stop encouraging Bodo to pay attention to this kind of thing instead of his studies and should avoid corrupting him. After a chorus of responses ranging from “Yeah, right!” to “Phhfftt!”, the paladin stalks off to the warforged guards of the house and informs them that if Bodo returns, he must be told about it first. The nearest guard raises a metal hand and asks, sounding slightly confused, “Is that first before Luna and Six are informed first, as they told us to do?” 

* * *

An hour later, the Angels are seated in the comfortable meeting room adjoining his office that Talleon uses when meeting them. The gnome begins by making small talk, mentioning that he heard of their ‘minor fracas’ with some Boromars in Carosten Park and commenting on their disappearance from Sharn for a few weeks, inquiring politely about their health. The Angels try to be as patient as they can, and Talleon eventually comes to the subject he wished to discuss.

“I believe,” he says with a polite smile, “That you had a meeting with Hass ir’Tain yesterday. Might I ask what it was regarding? Are you working on something for him now, perchance?”

“If you don’t mind, we’d rather not say,” says Nameless, recalling that Hass has sworn the Angels to secrecy about this assignment, for reasons of security. “Not because we wouldn’t be open with you, but because of other people’s privacy.”

Talleon smiles broadly. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes, we’re working for him’ then. And no, I won’t try to coerce you to give me the information. Instead, I’ll just give you a warning. Not just as someone whose job, as you know, involves keeping an eye on anything pertaining to national security, but as a friend. You should be careful how much you trust a man who is a consistent critic of the royalty and a supporter of Ruken ir’Clarn, the single most vocal anti-monarchical voice in Parliament. Consider it friendly advice.”

“Thank you,” says Gareth politely, wondering how this information might have a bearing on the escort job.

“You’re welcome,” says Talleon. “So, tell me – once you’re done with this job for Hass,” he quickly raises a hand to forestall claims to the contrary and adds, “Or whatever work you might be doing, when do you think you’ll be free?”

“Why?” asks Luna suspiciously. “Do you want us to do something?”

“I might have a little something I could throw your way.”

“Okay,” says Luna, rising instantly to her feet and striding quickly out the door. Talleon and the other Angels gape after her for a moment, and then all of them begin to chuckle. “She’s a little … abrupt, isn’t she?” laughs the gnome.

“You have *no[/i] idea!”

Although they do not do so as precipitously, the other Angels slowly follow Luna, once Talleon says that’s effectively all he wished to speak to them about. They find her waiting for them near the exit to the Citadel. “You didn’t accept another job, did you?” she growls. 

“No. But I’m wondering about the job for Hass now,” says Korm. “Could this be some sort of setup?”

Six says gloomily. “It’s us. It’s political. And we spoke to a gnome right now. Of course it’s a setup!”

* * * * *

Despite his gloomy prediction, Six and the others spend the next few days making preparations for the journey. With winter about to settle in and the fact that they are heading to Karrnath, up in the north of Khorvaire, and doing so by airship, warm clothing is purchased. Fett is informed that he will have to be looking after the Gray House for about a month before they return. The money provided by Mordain – much of which turns out to be centuries old and more valuable than as basic coinage – is disposed of and new equipment purchased or ordered.

Four days after their meeting with Hass, Nameless contacts him with a sending to inform Hass that they are ready to teleport to his location, as he had planned for them to do, for the final bit of briefing before the departure. Hass responds that they should do so half an hour later. In the interim, Nameless carefully studies the detailed description of a room that he had provided at the end of their previous meeting, and teleports the Angels there at the given time. 

They appear in the middle of a large wooden chamber, lavish and well-appointed, with porthole-like windows that look out over the city of Wroat hundreds of feet below. Awaiting them are Hass and another formally-dressed man, the latter probably as old as the young half-elven parliamentarian, which puts him well into middle age as a human. Hass steps forward and introduces them. “Greetings and welcome to the Serenity. May I present Fenlen ir’Kess, another member of parliament and the person who suggested this assignment in the first place? Fenlen, these – of course – are the famed Guardian Angels of Sharn.”

Fenlen bows and asks the Angels to be seated, doing so himself. After a couple of polite platitudes, he says, “Naturally, I have heard and read a great deal about your exploits and abilities, as I’m sure anyone in the civilized areas of Khorvaire has. The addition of Hass having vouched for you makes me quite certain that you are perfect for this assignment, and this meeting is strictly a formality as far as I’m concerned, serving rather to fulfill my wish to meet you all in person. There is, however, one more person who you need to speak to and whose agreement we need before everything can be confirmed.” Fenlen raises his voice and calls, causing the door to be opened by a guard, who looks understandably surprised at finding the room full of people now. “Send in Sir Madoxx.”

Within a minute, there is a knock and the door opens again. The first thing the Angels notice about the figure that enters is the skeletal head, dark eyes gleaming from deep within the sockets of a skull-face. This visage tops a thick, skeletal body, which bears little resemblance to any actual skeleton that the Angels have ever seen, consisting of strangely interlaced bones on the surface of an ebony shape. The hilt of a large sword protrudes above the creature’s right shoulder. The figure eyes them for a moment and then reaches up to its head with both hands, only to snap the skull off. Revealed beneath is a dark, but clearly human, face, and the other Angels recognize instantly what Gareth already had at first glance – that the man in front of them is garbed from head to toe in an armor made primarily of bone. “May I introduce,” Hass says, “Sir Madoxx Kaminarr, head of security for Princess Haydith? Sir Madoxx Kaminarr, these are the Guardian Angels from Sharn.” Luna, whose right hand had just begun the motions of a spell at sight of the figure, mutters, “Wow – freaky!” 

Madoxx’s face, tautly lined and chocolate-colored, with a neatly trimmed handlebar moustache flecked with gray, displays no expression in response to the comment or the introduction, dark eyes flickering from face to face as he walks forward. As he advances, Gareth rises to meet him, extending a hand. Madoxx Kaminarr, the paladin thinks to himself, recalling the name from his time in Karrnath, One of the most famous of the Bone Knights and hero of the Last War! He extends a hand, saying, “Sir Madoxx – I am Gareth Byron Deneith. I’ve heard much of your exploits during the War, though I never had the honor to serve with you. It’s a pleasure!” As Madoxx firmly shakes his hand, Gareth notes that the only decoration worn by the knight is an opal-studded signet ring, indicating that Madoxx is a member of the Order of Rekkenmark, one who graduated with honors as an officer from Karrnath’s Rekkenmark Academy, long viewed as the premier military institution in the Five Nations.

“Gareth,” says Madoxx, in a dryly precise voice, “I have heard of you.” He takes a seat and then adds, “I’ve done some checking about your group, and I’d discovered that one of you was Karrnathi. But you are living in Breland now?” The tone is dispassionate, but there is an underlying tinge of something – perhaps suspicion or disapproval. Gareth ignores it and says, “Yes. I have been in Sharn for the last few months, though we travel around enough to make it difficult to call it ‘living there.’ And home will in some sense always be Karrlakton, where my parents are from.” 

“Yes. I know that is where Marshal Byron Deneith’s estate is. He was a good commander, and his death was an unfortunate loss to Karrnath.”

“Thank you.” Gratified at the compliment about his father, Gareth beams at Maddox and then quickly introduces his companions. Once he has done so, Fenlen says, “I have told them a little about the arrangements here, but I thought that better left to you. And I’ve told them that we need your agreement before their aid can be accepted.”

Maddox nods and then addresses the Angels. “I have, as I said, done some checking on your backgrounds and exploits, and you are evidently vouched for by the Brelish government and personally by Hass ir’Tain. I’m sure your abilities will be very useful, much more so than trying to put a few hundred soldiers on this ship, which also raises the chances of traitors and saboteurs. In short, I’m quite happy to have you on board. There is only one restriction I must ask you to agree to before I allow it. I shall leave you free to decide how to carry out the job of guarding Haydith, but you must agree that, if I ever need to give you an order, you will follow it. Otherwise, I cannot agree. Princess Haydith’s safety is my first, last and only priority, and I cannot risk it being jeopardized by any uncertainty about a chain of command and argument about decisions, if it comes to that, even with skilled individuals such as yourself. I should add, however, that I think it unlikely to have a situation where I will be giving any of you orders. What do you say?”

Luna, hackles rising at the idea – however theoretical – of anyone giving her orders, begins heatedly, “What the…,” before Korm swiftly places a hand on her wrist and squeezes firmly, and a little painfully. The interruption allows Nameless to speak up instead. “That is acceptable, as long as you understand that we are likely to respond in idiosyncratic ways to any danger, and it is in that flexibility and, I admit, unpredictability that our strengths lie. But I have no problem agreeing to your requirement.”

“All right then,” says Madoxx, casting a glance at Luna, who doesn’t deign to add anything.

“If I may ask something,” says Six, “Why not just have Nameless teleport the princess straight to Karrnath?” Glancing at the alienist, he adds, “You can reach that far, right?”

Just a trifle smugly, Nameless responds, “Right now I can reach anywhere on Khorvaire – and actually on the planet – with an accurate enough description, with no chance of error.”

Maddox smiles thinly, for the first time since he entered, and says, “Trusting you to guard the princess on her trip isn’t the same as trusting you to teleport off with her. But beyond that, there are other reasons.” Fenlen nods and opens a document with neat writing on it, which Six can see is a list of dates and words next to them. “Something that you haven’t been told is the itinerary of this trip, for security reasons, but now that Sir Maddox has agreed to our suggestion, here it is.” 

The Brelish diplomat continues, “The ship will leave Wroat on the 15th and will proceed north, entering Aundair on the 17th. It will dock at Fairhaven at dawn on the 19th, where Haydith will meet with Queen Aurala. Departing the Aundairan capital on the 20th, the ship will head north, avoiding Thrane completely and crossing into Karrnath from the northwest at night on the 21st. It will reach Korth on the 22nd.” Folding the paper, he adds, “Haydith’s visit to Aurala en route to Karrnath, short as it will be, is an important event. The Queen has not yet agreed to participate in the friendly exchange that Breland and Karrnath have, with children and siblings of our monarchs dwelling in the other country to learn more about its culture and increase the bonds between the nations in the aftermath of the War, and it is hoped Haydith – with her experience of Brelish hospitality – can be a little persuasive to that end.”

“All right,” says Gareth. “If I may ask, why is the airship avoiding Thrane?”

Fenlen looks to Maddox, but the bone knight says nothing, simply looking back at Fenlen with a hint of dark amusement in his eyes. After an awkward few seconds, Hass steps in. “Thrane and Karrnath are undergoing some disputes right now, and while the leaders of both countries are certain the princess would be perfectly safe traveling through Thrane, it was considered preferable to fly over Aundair.”

Six, who has been studying the political affairs of the nations a lot more closely than the others, momentarily considers mentioning that presumably a Karrnathi princess visiting Fairhaven instead of Flamekeep while traveling from Breland would also be a lot more acceptable in the current moment of Breland’s growing friendship with Aundair (and Karrnath’s long-held rivalry with Thrane and the Church of the Silver Flame). Only momentarily.

Maddox glances at Gareth “You are a worshipper of Thrane’s Church of the Silver Flame, correct?” 

“I am a paladin of the Silver Flame, but only nominally a member of the Church, and have no affiliation with Thrane. Why do you ask?”

“Simply satisfying my curiosity,” says the bone knight. Then he addresses the group again. “I shall leave you now. It was a pleasure, and I will see you again on the 15th.” He rises and departs. As he is going, Fenlen says, “In order to retain as much privacy as possible, please teleport to this chamber at 9 in the morning on the 15th.” He smiles a little and adds, “I suggest you bring some warm clothing. As Gareth can tell you, it is much colder in Karrnath than Sharn, especially on the deck of a flying airship in Aryth.”

After exchanging a few more words, the Angels leave via Nameless’ spell, reappearing in their sanctum at the Gray House.

* * * * *

The remaining period before the group’s departure passes remarkably peacefully by the Angels’ standards, except for one more meeting…

…and so,” says Ythana Morr, facing all of the Angels across her desk, “Nameless must come with me to speak to the Keeper of the Flame.”

“When does this have to happen?” asks Nameless, in as polite a manner as he can.

“Tomorrow. I will only be able to prepare the appropriate spell then, since I used it to return today. Please make any preparations you need to.”    

“How long will this meeting take? We have a limited amount of time available, since we’re involved with a job.”

The Archierophant frowns slightly. “I cannot say. Since you will need to remain in Flamekeep as long as the Keeper feels is necessary, I suggest you cancel the job. Or leave the rest of your friends to deal with it, since their presence is not crucial.” There is the slightest tinge of hopefulness to her tone, which the more perceptive among the Angels notice. They exchange glances, but Gareth is the one who speaks up. “That is not really an option. As I mentioned at our last meeting, we cannot allow you to keep Nameless in Flamekeep – or elsewhere – any longer than he chooses to stay. And this ‘job’ is very important and we have given our word to all participate in it. So I must refuse, with all due respect.”

The frown deepens, and for a moment Ythana seems about to say something, but then she turns to Nameless. “Do you refuse to accompany me to Flamekeep?”

“I’m willing to go to Flamekeep and meet the Keeper,” Nameless says carefully, “But as Gareth said, it’s impossible to do that on an extended basis right now. If you could promise that we would be able to leave tomorrow evening, I’d be more than happy to do so. But if not, then I cannot.” As he speaks, the alienist feels a familiar stirring in one of his pouches, the one that now houses the awakened and ambulatory rock Edgar, and he quickly places a hand over it, certain that Edgar’s appearance will not help to improve the Archierophant’s attitude.

An attitude which, going by the expression on her face, is quickly worsening, as she says, “Despite knowing what a danger – if what Gareth tells me is correct – you are to everyone around you, as well as potentially the whole of Khorvaire? Your priorities seem significantly confused.”

“Only if I’m killed,” points out Nameless, adding with a slight smile, “Which I’m planning to not have happen any time soon. And evidently I’m a bit of a danger if I’m in the same place for a while, so keeping me in Flamekeep for long would be a problem too.”

“That would be for the Keeper to decide. But you seem much more concerned about this job, whatever it is.”

“We have promised to take it on,” puts in Gareth, “And my word is my bond. With all due respect, I cannot break it.”

“Your word? And you don’t see that there are more important things in play here?”

Gareth looks a little uncomfortable, but continues politely, “I am a paladin of the Flame. I cannot break my word.” 

“I know precisely what you are!” snaps Ythana, who is clearly beginning to lose her temper, if she has not already done so. “And as a paladin of the Flame, your allegiance should be to the Church and to the Flame and to what creates the greatest good for the greatest number around you, not to an egotistical focusing on some ill-considered promise!”

Looking even  more uncomfortable, Gareth says, “My allegiance is to the Flame, first and foremost, before even the Church, and I do not think in this regard that taking Nameless to Flamekeeep is of the utmost immediate importa…”

This time, Ythana doesn’t even let him finish. “And you set yourself up in judgement of that? I am Archierophant of the Church in Breland. I am speaking on behalf of the Keeper of the Flame, the voice of the Flame in this world. And you refuse us and prefer your own judgement?”

There is a long pause, and then Gareth sighs and says, “Unfortunately, yes. With all due respect.”

Nameless, feeling protective towards Gareth, quickly adds, “May I point out that I’m not refusing to come to Flamekeep? I’m simply saying that I’ll do so later, when I have some more time on hand.” He thinks, And when I know for a fact that you won’t try to lock me up and throw away the key, but doesn’t verbalize it.

The Archierophant’s attention snaps back to him. She half-rises, and then visibly collects herself. When she speaks, her tone is more controlled, but no less threatening. “I am tempted to drag you before the Keeper myself, but I know of your capabilities and those of your companions, so I shall refrain.” Her gaze flashes to Gareth. “Even though I am tempted to do so simply to see exactly how true your supposed allegiances are. Or to declare you excommunicate from the Church for your actions today.”

“With all due respect…,” begins Gareth, causing Ythana’s eyes to bulge slightly, as she shouts, “Stop saying that! With all due respect, my a…,” before she again – barely – composes herself. “This meeting is ended. You are free to leave. I suggest you think very strongly about the decisions you are taking. Especially you, Gareth.”

For a moment, Gareth considers expressing his regrets again, but decides that might push her over the edge. The Angels wordlessly take their leave. Once outside, Korm looks sympathetically at Gareth. “Sounds like you’re in big trouble. I hope Gurr’khan takes what I told the Gatekeepers a little better.” 

“I guess it can’t be helped,” says Gareth. “At least Cedric will get a big laugh out of it.” He looks over at Nameless. “Try not to die on this trip. If you do, I’ll look really stupid for supporting you.”

“Note to self,” says Nameless dryly, “Avoid dying, for sake of Gareth’s reputation.”*


----------



## Furby076

Excellent update. Made me laugh. Though I believe instead of "regret" i actually said "with all due respect".

I am waiting for gareth to get excommunicated...will be great when the party gets back gareth goes up (think office space) "hmmm yea, about that meeting, yea, hmm yea, hmm can't happen - tps reports and all, yea"


----------



## Vorput

Poor Gareth...


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:
			
		

> Excellent update. Made me laugh. Though I believe instead of "regret" i actually said "with all due respect".




Aha! I knew something sounded off. I made the edits and it reads much better with your line, I think. Especially since that was half the reason she was so pissed off  It was very well done at the table. 



> I am waiting for gareth to get excommunicated...will be great when the party gets back gareth goes up (think office space) "hmmm yea, about that meeting, yea, hmm yea, hmm can't happen - tps reports and all, yea"




We'll have to wait and see. As always, I haven't decided yet, but will do so when the time comes, based on what happens in the interim and PC decisions/actions/words. One thing's for sure, Ythana will find out quite soon that the Angels guarded Haydith on her way to Karrnath. And will likely NOT be impressed by that as a choice preferred over traveling to Flamekeep. Nevertheless, an actual excommunication is a little unlikely, as Gareth would know, though it might happen. If it does, Cedric'll be really impressed if Gareth pulls it off, considering even he hasn't yet. But then he tries to avoid coming in contact with the Archierophant, and she ignores his existence in Sharn, and they're both happier that way. Gareth, on the other hand, is more of a people person 



			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> Poor Gareth




We knew him, Horatio?


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> We'll have to wait and see. As always, I haven't decided yet, but will do so when the time comes, based on what happens in the interim and PC decisions/actions/words. One thing's for sure, Ythana will find out quite soon that the Angels guarded Haydith on her way to Karrnath. And will likely NOT be impressed by that as a choice preferred over traveling to Flamekeep. Nevertheless, an actual excommunication is a little unlikely, as Gareth would know, though it might happen. If it does, Cedric'll be really impressed if Gareth pulls it off, considering even he hasn't yet. But then he tries to avoid coming in contact with the Archierophant, and she ignores his existence in Sharn, and they're both happier that way. Gareth, on the other hand, is more of a people person




Gareth is so adamant about not having ANY evil in the church; you know I have been talking about him cleaning it up for years. He is getting close to the power level where he will be able to challenge powerful elements of the church - so yea I see Gareth getting excommunicated - and socially that would hurt Gareth - who is all about the people - but for Gareth it is the Silver Flame first and the people always...Gareth realizes the church is not all about the people all the time - and that doesn't sit well with him.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> One thing's for sure, Ythana will find out quite soon that the Angels guarded Haydith on her way to Karrnath. And will likely NOT be impressed by that as a choice preferred over traveling to Flamekeep.




So what would you have had happen to Haydith if we'd not taken up this job? If they'd gotten hit with the same kind of attack without us and without a considerably higher level guard, I'm guessing she'd have been dead meat. I mean the <censored> alone would have <deleted> half the <?????> on the airship.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:
			
		

> So what would you have had happen to Haydith if we'd not taken up this job? If they'd gotten hit with the same kind of attack without us and without a considerably higher level guard, I'm guessing she'd have been dead meat. I mean the <censored> alone would have <deleted> half the <?????> on the airship.




Yea I don't care if Ythana has her skirt all in a ruffle over this - the princess is an innocent and deserves our protection.  The moment Gareth allows one person to be sacrificed to appease someone else - even if it is his 'leaders' - is the moment Gareth really does fall from grace.  They say paladins have to make tough choices at times - in my opinion the choice Gareth had to make didn't even come up on his ethical equation chart.

But yea, the "with all due respect" is just classic.  "With all due respect, kiss my @$$, respectfully."


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> So what would you have had happen to Haydith if we'd not taken up this job? If they'd gotten hit with the same kind of attack without us and without a considerably higher level guard, I'm guessing she'd have been dead meat. I mean the <censored> alone would have <deleted> half the <?????> on the airship.




In all likelihood (can't say for sure, since I'd only have decided once I knew what your decision was), she'd have been dead meat. The attack was ramped up and modified a bit by the Emerald Claw once they found out you guys were on board, but they had short notice and not that many options, so they couldn't compensate as well as they ideally would have liked to. She'd probably have been captured, since that was a preferable outcome for the EC, with only your presence on board making killing her become the main aim (since it's easier to accomplish than actual kidnapping). Incidentally, you'll find out sooner or later how the EC knew you were on board.



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> Yea I don't care if Ythana has her skirt all in a ruffle over this - the princess is an innocent and deserves our protection. The moment Gareth allows one person to be sacrificed to appease someone else - even if it is his 'leaders' - is the moment Gareth really does fall from grace. They say paladins have to make tough choices at times - in my opinion the choice Gareth had to make didn't even come up on his ethical equation chart.




Yeah, I agree. In view of Gareth's background and personality, it wasn't exactly a hard choice. Though I wouldn't have been surprised if you guys had done an about-face and taken off to Flamekeep, I expected it to go the direction you guys took it. If admittedly without the added garnish of:



> But yea, the "with all due respect" is just classic. "With all due respect, kiss my @$$, respectfully."




Precisely


----------



## Solarious

Okay then. Which should I start working on first? An advanced Carcass Crab 'skeletoned' by it's own bodily armor, chosing choice Mournland Horrors (perhaps an Eberronian remake of the Shalebridge Cradle ), putting together a Thuranni extraction team, or maybe something custom to shilsen's plans?

Decisions, decisions.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Okay then. Which should I start working on first? An advanced Carcass Crab 'skeletoned' by it's own bodily armor, chosing choice Mournland Horrors (perhaps an Eberronian remake of the Shalebridge Cradle ), putting together a Thuranni extraction team, or maybe something custom to shilsen's plans?
> 
> Decisions, decisions.




Ah, corpse crabs! I always liked those critters and never got to use one on my other group of PCs, who did go in the Mournland. Maybe the Angels will give me a chance someday. For now, I'm guessing more Emerald Claw goodness is in the Angels' future. We'll see.

Anyway, you're too kind 

* * * * * * * * * *

The day before the Angels are to depart, Nameless suggests that Gareth perform a _divination_. The paladin does so, choosing – after some discussion – “How can we best protect princess Haydith on this journey?” After a few moments, he feels a glow of warmth in his mind, one which he experiences whenever in contact with the power of the Silver Flame, and then the answer: “Watch for many daggers, not all wielded by the same hand.” 

When Gareth repeats it, the others discuss what it might indicate, presuming that it most likely means they need to watch for people besides the Emerald Claw. “After all,” points out Six, “Haydith getting killed could suit lots of people. Especially since it would happen while she’s under Brelish protection. It could easily lead to war again, so anyone wanting Karrnath to reopen hostilities, especially with Breland, could support it. Or anybody who wishes to reopen the Last War at all.”

“Or,” says Nameless meditatively, “Someone wanting to seriously embarrass the Brelish monarchy and make it look incompetent. Perhaps a person like this Ruken ir’Clarn, who Talleon said Hass supports. And Hass, maybe not so coincidentally, is the guy who hired us.”

“Do you think we’re being set up by Hass,” asks Gareth, “With the expectation that we shall fail?”

“I don’t know. I’m just thinking aloud,” says the alienist, his tentacle slowly stroking Edgar, who is curled up on his knee like a particularly strange pet.

“Tell me again,” says Luna, with a growl, “Why we’re doing this instead of going to Q’Barra and setting lizardfolk on fire?”

“Because,” says Korm, “Pulling this off will get us a lot of very powerful friends. I think.” He sounds somewhat unconvinced.

“No. We won’t likely be making friends,” says Nameless. “To people at this level of society, at best we can prove useful and perhaps have them owing us some favors we can trade in later. Since we have a way of attracting trouble, having the authorities indebted to us is never a bad thing. Also, should we prove sufficiently useful, we might be able to leverage that into other benefits. Much as we leveraged our relationship with Talleon into obtaining the house. It would be nice to have an airship for travel, after all.”

That nobody disagrees with, not even Luna, who promptly begins to plan the decorations for her quarters on the airship she believes they will – and should – receive.

* * * * *

The next day, precisely at 9 in the morning, two bored-looking guards in Karrnathi livery snap to attention as five people appear in the center of the room in front of them. After quickly identifying the Angels, they lead them out of the meeting room. Outside is a large corridor made of rich paneled wood, one end of which culminates in ladders, leading to decks above and below. The guards lead them in the opposite direction and around a couple of turn. Passing more doors to left and right, they reach an especially large doorway in the far end of the corridor, guarded by two more Karrnathis. Beyond the doorway is an antechamber, with doors to left, right and in front. One of the guards knocks on the one to the left. “Enter!” commands Maddox’s voice.

Proceeding inside, the Angels find themselves in a large stateroom. Part of it holds a four-poster bed, separated by a half-drawn curtain from the area they enter, a small, but comfortable, sitting room. It is currently occupied by the armored figure of Maddox, who is speaking to a middle-aged woman and an elderly man, both in traditional Karrnathi formal wear, and a girl in her late teens, dressed more casually. “Ah!” he says, rising at their entrance, and then turning to the girl, “These are the Guardian Angels.” Turning to them, Maddox indicates her in turn. “Princess Haydith ir’Wynarn of Karrnath.” 

Gareth bows deeply, saying simply, “Princess, it is an honor,” followed with slightly less facility by Six, and significantly less so by the other three Angels. Haydith rises quickly with a pleased smile. “Please, call me Haydith. There’s to be no formality here. I’ve been looking forward to meeting all of you. Sit.” Then she glances around, comparing the number of people to the available space. “Or maybe we’d be better off in my room.”

Maddox leads them out and through the door to the left, opposite the large guarded one, while introducing the Angels to the other two individuals, lord Gustavus Thul and lady Theda ir’Bara, the diplomats mentioned by him on their previous meeting. The room they now enter is a huge one, dwarfing the one that they had been in, and subdivided into multiple areas. On either side of the entrance, wooden partitions with curtains create a number of smaller rooms, each containing a bed. Beyond these, the chamber opens up into a large sitting-cum-dining room, with sliding wooden walls to the side for a smaller sitting room and two bathrooms. Beyond it, a little distance from the far end of the room, is a curious wooden-structure, perhaps twenty feet wide and a dozen long, like an oblong lozenge, stretching from floor to ceiling. A curtain and sliding door lie open on one side, and the Angels soon discover that it is a special private sleeping area so that the princess (or whoever is the guest of honor at any given time on the _Serenity_) can have a private bedroom while being surrounded by guards and attendants. A half dozen members of the latter, all women, are in the chamber when the Angels enter, but they vacate the main sitting area on Haydith’s command.

Once everyone is seated, Maddox quickly gets down to business, producing papers listing the various people on board. The Angels learn that Haydith is accompanied by a personal retinue of two ladies-in-waiting and six maids. Gustavus and Theda are also accompanied by a dozen Karrnathis, including personal guards and attendants. Maddox has fifteen elite Karrnathi troops providing security, backed up by a warmage. Besides these forty people, the _Serenity_ itself has nearly fifty crew-members, all told, so the airship currently holds nearly a hundred people. Maddox also informs the Angels about the accommodations. Haydith is staying in this primary cabin, with Gustavus and Theda occupying the ones on either side of the antechamber beyond. Immediately beyond the guarded doorway to the antechamber is Maddox’s room and, on the opposite side, the two rooms that have been assigned to the Angels.

After a little discussion, Nameless suggests that the Angels meet the crew of the ship and everybody on board, sweeping them and the ship as a whole for magic and anything suspicious. Maddox agrees that it’s a good idea and suggests they begin by meeting the captain. The Angels excuse themselves from Haydith, who smiles prettily and says she’ll be waiting to talk to them when they are free. Maddox leads them out and through the corridors to the stairs leading up to the helm area above (Haydith’s room being on the floor immediately below the deck).

The Angels emerge on the deck to be greeted by the sight of a giant, softly crackling ring of fire, between and ahead of which stretches the bulk of the ship. Standing nearby beside the helm, which is currently in the hands of a young human with a dragonmark prominent on his left forearm, a rugged-looking man in a brown coat says, “So, Maddox, these would be the Angels?”

“Yes,” says Maddox, pausing to glance over the side towards the rear, where the capital city of Wroat is slowly retreating beneath the _Serenity_. “That was a smooth takeoff.”

“Thank Wash, not me,” says the previous speaker, indicating the pilot, who grins and nods, before striding towards the Angels. “Welcome to my ship. I’m Malkom Lyrandar, but everyone calls me Mal.” Introductions are made, and after the Angels explain that they’d like to meet everyone on board, Mal leads them around the ship. First, they meet his officers. The first mate Zoey, a fierce-looking shifter warrior, wife to the pilot Wash, a Lyrandar scion who (like Malkom) left the House decades ago; the half-elven magewright Kaylee, who performs any in-flight repairs needed by the ship; the ship’s healer, Symon; a diplomat, Inara, who always accompanies the ship on any trips into other countries, representing Brelish interests and dealing with any diplomatic problems that might arise. And the other forty people that make up the crew, which includes ten soldiers, led by the security chief Jayne.

Gareth scans all of the individuals they meet for signs of evil, unsurprisingly detecting faint traces of it in a small number of them. All of the crew, Mal explains, are long-standing members, who serve purely on board the _Serenity_. Nameless also checks them for magic, finding a small magical item here and there (other than on Mal and his primary officers, who are all well-provided with magical equipment), but nothing untoward. After going over the crew, the Angels also explore all four decks of the ship (or five, including the op level), again finding nothing that is suspicious. While they are doing so, Inara – who they are handed over to by Mal, who returns to join Wash at the helm – explains that the _Serenity_ was originally intended to be the largest airship in Breland’s fleet, which explains its huge size of nearly two hundred feet from stem to stern. However, with the end of the Last War before its construction was completed, it was transformed into the main airship serving Breland’s royalty and its diplomatic needs. King Boranel himself has used it on multiple occasions. 

The entire process of meeting everyone and searching the entire ship takes nearly four hours, and by the time they are done, most of the Angels are completely tired and ready for a rest. After joining Haydith and some others for lunch, they head to their rooms, except for Six and Gareth. The former, of course, needs no sleep and heads to the deck to watch Breland unfold below the ship. Gareth, the group agrees, is to remain in as close proximity to Haydith as can be throughout the course of the flight, using spells such as _shield other_ and _status_ to better safeguard her. A bed and makeshift sleeping area are set up in the huge cabin near Haydith’s one, so that Gareth can sleep in the same room.

* * * * *

Over the course of the next day and a half, the airship flies north, bearing slightly to the east, heading towards the Breland-Aundair border. As it passes over the fertile center of Breland, those on deck can see large plains unroll below, dotted with small woods. Even though scores of small villages and hamlets cover the landscape, a large part of the land is unoccupied, and even the various settlements seem to hold less people than they could. Though almost untouched by the War in comparison to the lands of many other countries, the lands of Breland have still felt its effects, with much of its population lost to the fighting further north.

Eventually, the _Serenity_ reaches and passes the Blackcaps, flying not over the dark mountains but detouring slightly to curve around their eastern side. While passing them, at one point those watching see a giant crevasse splitting the earth in one of the many secluded valleys. Strangely, considering the near uninhabited nature of the region, a small village sits nearby. That is identified for them as the Black Pit, a chasm fabled to lead into Khyber. The same name is used for the village, which is a popular place for fugitives from the law to flee to. Upon its identification, Nameless recalls that they had heard of it earlier with reference to Desro. 

Having passed the Blackcaps, the airship turns due north, passing over the border town of Cragwar and into Aundair. While nearing the border, they notice what seems to be a huge fortress to the east. By the time the airship reaches Cragwar, it is clear that the fortress is closer than should be, as if it were moving too, as well as evidently on a similar level to the airship. It is Argonth, the mobile fortress of Breland, endlessly floating along the border from west to east and back again, one more reminder of the Last War. 

The Angels are surrounded by other reminders of the War in the people on board the _Serenity_. Maddox, Malkom, Zoey, and many of the soldiers on board are veterans of the War. Though not a combatant himself, Gustavus Thul was one of those who represented Karrnathi interests in the drawing up of the Treaty of Thronehold that ended it. Also, though nobody mentions that particular aspect, everyone knows that the arrangement between the two nations regarding Haydith and King Boranel’s children is a direct result of the uncertainties and tenuous alliances that followed the War. Haydith’s presence in Breland provides the nation some assurance of continued Karrnathi goodwill while they possess such an important bargaining chip, and her growing knowledge of Breland might also be helpful to Karrnath in the future. Similarly, this short return to Karrnath is intended to show that Breland neither considers her as such, nor fears that Karrnath will take advantage of it in any way. 

Interestingly, Gareth, who gets to spend more time in close contact with Haydith than anyone on the ship besides her personal attendants, quickly learns that she is not only very fond of Breland but deeply attached to King Boranel, whom she speaks of as if he were a combination of a beloved uncle and a dear friend. During the course of the trip, Haydith tells Gareth that when she first came to Breland she was deeply unhappy about the arrangement and having to leave her home in Karrnath, but is now as happy here as she has been in her young life and looks forward to many more years of the same. While she spends most of her time in and around Wroat, at the royal court, she has made short visits to Sharn twice and is fascinated by the City of Towers. She hopes, Haydith says, to visit it again in the future and spend a longer time there, perhaps spending some time at Morgrave University. 

Gareth in turn tells Haydith tales of the Angels’ adventures, some of which she has read about in the _Korranberg Chronicle_, leaving the princess both fascinated and impressed. While the two speak, her attendants whisper and giggle among themselves, since it is clear to many on board that the young princess is steadily developing a crush on Gareth, older and more mature in comparison to her teens, handsome and well spoken, member of the most famous group of adventurers in Khorvaire, a paladin of the Silver Flame, and, last but certainly not least, a fellow Karrnathi living in Breland. Gareth, characteristically, is quite unaware of the gossiping around them or the meaning of the gleam in Haydith’s eyes as she speak to him or reaches out to touch his shoulder to punctuate a point, seeing her simply as a pleasant traveling companion and, much more so, a ward and dependent as well as a royal he owes allegiance to. 

The other Angels, spending their time interacting with others on the ship rather than watching Gareth and Haydith closely, have an equally interesting time, for different reasons. The trip itself is quite a novelty for them, since none of them have traveled by airship before, and they are able to see Breland as they never have. Aundair too, but then none of them have been in that country before. The Angels also find their various companions quite interesting, beginning with the forbidding bone knight Sir Maddox, constantly focused and taciturn, but with a surprisingly dry wit that he sometimes reveals. In some contrast stand the officers of the _Serenity_, whom they are often interacting with, ranging from the cheerfully cynical Malkom to the effervescently optimistic Kaylee. 

All in all, the first half of the trip is quite peaceful and pleasant. 

* * * * *

The _Serenity_ flies north into Aundair, staying a good five hundred feet above the ground at its full speed of twenty miles per hour. The Brelish border recedes in the distance behind, the lightning rail track, which crossed the border at the same place, bends northwest away towards Passage, the central hub for rail transportation in Khorvaire. After a couple of hours, as the fertile plains of southern Aundair unroll below the airship, the battlements of a powerful fortress appear to the northeast, made diminutive by distance. Maddox, standing near the front deck, says to Six, “The Tower Vigilant, guarding the border with Thrane. We shall pass its sister fortress, the Tower Valiant, tomorrow.” 

Over the course of the next day and a half, the airship passes by the Valiant and the towns of Ghalt and Lathleer, before bending slightly northwest. Here too, the settlements have a diminished population. Many fields also stand empty and abandoned, and in some places large swathes of land show signs of burning or the results of large explosions. Much more than in Breland, the fields of Aundair still display the wounds of the War.

On the 19th, the airship heads towards the walls and battlements of a huge city, surrounded by outlying villages. As they swiftly near the city, those on deck see a lightning rail train heading for it from the southwest. Multiple caravans and thousands of travelers are entering and leaving through the multiple gates, especially along the Orien trade road running almost parallel to the airship’s route, while ships and smaller craft move back and forth along the river the city sits on. Fairhaven, the jewel of Aundair, unrolls itself in all its splendor beneath the _Serenity_.

The airship heads for the tallest tower in the city, dwarfing even those of the central castle that surrounds the royal palace, which flies the colors of House Lyrandar. Another airship is already at rest against one of the four docking platforms that protrude from the sides of the tower, its elemental ring suppressed for the duration of its stay. Lights and a squad of waiting Lyrandar employees indicate that the _Serenity_ is to occupy the top level, and Wash, at the helm, neatly brings it into docking position. As the ship slides into place, ropes are flung aboard and tied off by the crew to hold it in place. A second later, there is a soft hiss as the flaming ring around the ship disappears, and the airship jerks slightly, before floating in place.

Large wooden platforms are wheeled up and extended to the ship, and those of the Angels on deck can see dozens of soldiers in Aundairan livery waiting to board. Maddox strides up to the primary boarding platform, Karrnathi troops falling in behind him. The Aundairan contingent is led by a tall man with a hawkishly sharp face, who stands apart from his compatriots in the complete lack of armor or weapons worn and in the royal crest on his cloak. He first shakes the bone knight by the hand, and then proceeds to do so to Malkom and Inara, who have moved up to join Maddox. The first mate Zoey, standing near Six, identifies him as Queen Aurala’s brother Aurad, governor of Fairhaven. 

She then explains, “It’s a little more complicated diplomatically on this trip than usual. This ship is technically Brelish soil, with the captain representing Breland, but our diplomatic cargo is Karrnathi, so Aundair has to welcome both appropriately. While providing the right security for Haydith, which is also going to be complicated.” She indicates four Brelish soldiers waiting near Malkom. “The captain and Inara will be going along, as will they, providing Haydith’s Brelish escort, while Maddox and his troops will be the Karrnathi contingent, and the Aundairans will have their own troops. And you guys, of course.” She shakes her head and grimaces. “Too complicated. I’m glad I’ll be avoiding it.”

Zoey’s explanation is borne out by the events of the next few minutes. Once the formalities of providing the various visitors’ identification and, more importantly, meeting all the various protocols, is taken care of, Haydith and her escorts depart the _Serenity_. Gareth, who has made sure to cast both a _status_ and a _shield other_ spell before they leave, stays especially close to the princess, walking immediately behind her. Luna, on the other hand, is relegated to a position far in the rear, not being asked to follow in animal form only because Maddox explains that could be a problem. And because the other Angels want Luna close enough to be able to watch her – and grab her if she does something … precipitous.  

The group descends through the various levels of the Lyrandar tower, preceding guards ensuring that there are no interruptions, until they reach the street outside. There, they are whisked quickly into waiting carriages, which proceed towards the royal palace. Gareth shares Haydith’s carriage, along with Aurad, Maddox, Malkom, Inara, Gustavus and Theda. He notes that Haydith seems slightly uncomfortable at the start, but she quickly grows more at ease – or fakes doing so quite well – and spends the trip chatting casually with Aurad, while simultaneously smiling and waving at the crowds that line the path.

Gareth and the others, riding in carriages preceding and following Haydith’s, keep a careful eye out for trouble but notice nothing untoward, other than the odd critical cry from the crowd. Though their focus on the crowd gives them little leisure to notice it, they find that Fairhaven is a beautiful city, comparing favorably with the upper middle-class and higher areas of Sharn, though that might have something to do with the route they are taken on.

Soon enough, the cavalcade of carriages and accompanying riders reaches the palace. They are met by the Seneschal, who leads Haydith to a suite of rooms, surrounded by other chambers for her escorts and entourage, where Aurad takes his leave. While Haydith settles down for a little rest and to refresh herself before the meetings and dinner that is to follow, Gareth stays nearby, while the other Angels check around the area. Having found nothing untoward, they get a little rest too, during which they are all provided with the appropriate clothing for the evening and the next day. Soon enough, they are asked to make ready for the formal meeting between Aurala and Haydith.


----------



## ajanders

So.
Three factions of nervous heavily armed soldiers, a high degree of ettiquette, and the Angels.
The Emerald Claw's secret plan is to draw the negotiations out until Luna gets bored and kills everyone, obviously.

All the Emerald Claw has to do is walk away and let the Angels ignite the war. And if Princess Heydith dies, it's not like undead nobles are new for Karnath.


----------



## Rackhir

ajanders said:
			
		

> The Emerald Claw's secret plan is to draw the negotiations out until Luna gets bored and kills everyone, obviously.




That's actually quite a brilliant plan. Fortunately the Emerald Claw wasn't quite as smart. However now that we're forwarned, we'll purchase some chew toys for her.


----------



## Arkhandus

I refuse to read this update until a witty title is amended to it.  We demand the witty title!


----------



## Rackhir

Arkhandus said:
			
		

> I refuse to read this update until a witty title is amended to it.  We demand the witty title!




Happy now?


----------



## Solarious

Probably not, but it will have to do.

Okay, so Carcass Crab... check. Anything special gimmicks you want out of it? Living host for a swarm? Spits out skeletons? Farts deadly enough to rate as a _Cloudkill_? Posessed by Living Spells and haunted by the dead spirits of the bodies it lugs around? Give me something to work with man!


----------



## Vorput

Does "the ship’s healer, Symon;" have a deranged Psion sister named River too?


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Okay, so Carcass Crab... check. Anything special gimmicks you want out of it? Living host for a swarm?




Ooh! Me likey!



> Spits out skeletons?




Me likey more!



> Farts deadly enough to rate as a _Cloudkill_?




Awww - I think I'm in love!



> Posessed by Living Spells and haunted by the dead spirits of the bodies it lugs around?




Okay, now you're just trying to tease me!



> Give me something to work with man!




Looks like you're doing well enough on your own 

Working off the stuff you mentioned, how about an undead Carcass Crab, recovered from the Mournland by the Emerald Claw, animated by necromantic means and controlled by one or more incorporeal spirits from the attached corpses, which allow it to do things like fly, do ability damage/drain, etc.? And if it grabs an enemy, one of the spirits then gets a chance to take over the enemy's body temporarily and use it vs. his allies?



			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> Does "the ship’s healer, Symon;" have a deranged Psion sister named River too?




Dammit - people kept asking me that during the session too! And nobody saw or heard mention of such a sister. What that means, they may eventually find out...


----------



## Solarious

Alright then... Boojum-haunted undead Carcass Crab with ability damage/drain, plus the optional Malevolence ability when grappling. You're not one to spare any expense when you order your monsters, do you? Time to dig deep into my new books and see what mechanics I can rip off from pre-existing writers for my Frankenstine creations. I foresee using such luminaries such as Death Giants, the Corpse template, and a living Mind Fog. We'll see what comes up. Pay attention to your PM Box for further updates.

Tell me, do you have any plans to use the Hunting Bats or the Famine Spirits (which need to be renamed  )? Or, if you're in a mood to make them Teleport away for their lives, you can always dial up my Astraloths. Are you going to allow Six to replace some of his levels with Swordsage levels in the future? So you need a Warblade Sora Maeyna? What are your thoughts on Mimics? Do you expect an underwater encounter anytime in the future? Any other kinds of customized undead you want delivered to your PM box for review and critique? How about Mournlandized versions of Fett's old adventuring buddies? You have what, 3-4 months off? We need a buffer of cackling horrors in the wings waiting to be unleashed like the dogs of the apocalpyse! It's not like you don't already have the talent to reflavour them for your own purposes anyways.


----------



## Rackhir

Solarious said:
			
		

> Alright then... Boojum-haunted undead Carcass Crab with ability damage/drain, plus the optional Malevolence ability when grappling. You're not one to spare any expense when you order your monsters, do you? Time to dig deep into my new books and see what mechanics I can rip off from pre-existing writers for my Frankenstine creations. I foresee using such luminaries such as Death Giants, the Corpse template, and a living Mind Fog. We'll see what comes up. Pay attention to your PM Box for further updates.
> 
> Tell me, do you have any plans to use the Hunting Bats or the Famine Spirits (which need to be renamed  )? Or, if you're in a mood to make them Teleport away for their lives, you can always dial up my Astraloths. Are you going to allow Six to replace some of his levels with Swordsage levels in the future? So you need a Warblade Sora Maeyna? What are your thoughts on Mimics? Do you expect an underwater encounter anytime in the future? Any other kinds of customized undead you want delivered to your PM box for review and critique? How about Mournlandized versions of Fett's old adventuring buddies? You have what, 3-4 months off? We need a buffer of cackling horrors in the wings waiting to be unleashed like the dogs of the apocalpyse! It's not like you don't already have the talent to reflavour them for your own purposes anyways.




Note to self: Break in to Shil's user account and put Solarious on ignore so Shil can't see any more suggestions like these.


----------



## Solarious

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Note to self: Break in to Shil's user account and put Solarious on ignore so Shil can't see any more suggestions like these.



 I have a very good idea of where you live, I have shil's e-mail, and I haven't broken out my Epic material yet.

Don't make me break out my Deadly Sinners.


----------



## Rackhir

Solarious said:
			
		

> I have a very good idea of where you live, I have shil's e-mail, and I haven't broken out my Epic material yet.
> 
> Don't make me break out my Deadly Sinners.




Just remember if you get us all killed off then there's no more story hour.


----------



## shilsen

I don't think Solarious wants you guys killed, since he probably agrees with my theory that if the PCs die it's no fun because the screaming stops. Right, Solarious?



> Alright then... Boojum-haunted undead Carcass Crab with ability damage/drain, plus the optional Malevolence ability when grappling. You're not one to spare any expense when you order your monsters, do you?




Of course not. Only the best for my vict... er, players.



> Time to dig deep into my new books and see what mechanics I can rip off from pre-existing writers for my Frankenstine creations. I foresee using such luminaries such as Death Giants, the Corpse template, and a living Mind Fog. We'll see what comes up. Pay attention to your PM Box for further updates.




Ooh, I love me some Death Giants. Those guys are NASTY!



> Tell me, do you have any plans to use the Hunting Bats or the Famine Spirits (which need to be renamed  )?




Haven't decided yet, but I might sometime. Of course, since the PCs have now pissed off the Emerald Claw, they could be undead Hunting Bats. Twice the fun for the price of admission!



> Or, if you're in a mood to make them Teleport away for their lives, you can always dial up my Astraloths.




You're messing with Astraloths too? I know Shemeska did some horrible stuff with them. And by horrible I mean really beautiful.



> Are you going to allow Six to replace some of his levels with Swordsage levels in the future?




Not replace, but he'll continue with swordsage levels now.



> So you need a Warblade Sora Maeyna? What are your thoughts on Mimics? Do you expect an underwater encounter anytime in the future? Any other kinds of customized undead you want delivered to your PM box for review and critique?




You really are too kind.



> How about Mournlandized versions of Fett's old adventuring buddies?




And that is sheer genius!



> You have what, 3-4 months off? We need a buffer of cackling horrors in the wings waiting to be unleashed like the dogs of the apocalpyse! It's not like you don't already have the talent to reflavour them for your own purposes anyways.




3 months. I'm back in the US on the 20th of August or thereabouts, if all goes as planned. So that does give me lots of time for setting up stuff in the wings. I already have a half dozen options in mind, so as usual, I have no idea which direction the campaign goes next. All depends on what the PCs choose to do and, in some cases, how they react to things that get done to them. But I promise there will be screaming. Lots of it.


----------



## Solarious

shilsen said:
			
		

> I don't think Solarious wants you guys killed, since he probably agrees with my theory that if the PCs die it's no fun because the screaming stops. Right, Solarious?



Well, I'm of the opinion that the show must go on. And shows with dead clowns are not the ones that move.

Unless they're undead. 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Of course not. Only the best for my vict... er, players.



Nothing but the best it is! 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Ooh, I love me some Death Giants. Those guys are NASTY!



You have to admit, those guys do have plenty of the features you requested, no? But the Boojums are important to this customer.

Trust me.


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Haven't decided yet, but I might sometime. Of course, since the PCs have now pissed off the Emerald Claw, they could be undead Hunting Bats. Twice the fun for the price of admission!



Since the Emerald Claw is hunting down the Angels, that means I need to start brewing up batches of undead. Does this mean I have to get the _Libris Mortis_? 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> You're messing with Astraloths too? I know Shemeska did some horrible stuff with them. And by horrible I mean really beautiful.



My friend, I'm the creator of the 3.5 fully-stated Astraloths, crafted with Shemeska's blessings. Ridley says hi. He invites you to his parlor. 

One of my backburner ideas is to create a squad of Mortalhunter/Mindspy Astraloths with some more pronounced psionic powers. I'll get around to finishing it. Eventually. Which reminds me, I really have to get some work done on my Bestiary of Ashtakala. I'm taking forever on the Eyes, not to mention the Weeds. 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Not replace, but he'll continue with swordsage levels now.



I'm interested in what kind of manuvers Six goes with from here. And also about how he feels about the harness going in this direction... 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> You really are too kind.



I know. I'll probably never get to her, the poor hag.

Err... not so poor... uh oh.... good Daughter...  

*runs away screaming*


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> And that is sheer genius!



Tell me, any halflings in the group? 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> 3 months. I'm back in the US on the 20th of August or thereabouts, if all goes as planned. So that does give me lots of time for setting up stuff in the wings. I already have a half dozen options in mind, so as usual, I have no idea which direction the campaign goes next. All depends on what the PCs choose to do and, in some cases, how they react to things that get done to them. But I promise there will be screaming. Lots of it.



If you really want to train them as a choir, I'll start some preliminary work on some of the Sinners the Angels might be liable to encounter at the beginning. I mean, no game is truly complete unless your players encounter the Seven Deadly Sins and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.


----------



## ajanders

I was going to suggest something relatively simple: a clan of half-fiendish goblin warriors riding their half brothers: half fiendish wolves.
Led by their father: a barghest.

Add warblade levels (or crusader levels) to taste.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Well, I'm of the opinion that the show must go on. And shows with dead clowns are not the ones that move.
> 
> Unless they're undead.




Oooh - making undead sock puppets of one's PCs! 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.



> You have to admit, those guys do have plenty of the features you requested, no? But the Boojums are important to this customer.




True. You can never go wrong with death giants. Though death giants with Boojums are especially cool.



> Since the Emerald Claw is hunting down the Angels, that means I need to start brewing up batches of undead. Does this mean I have to get the _Libris Mortis_?




Why not? I've never picked that book up, but I hear it has some very nasty things in it.



> My friend, I'm the creator of the 3.5 fully-stated Astraloths, crafted with Shemeska's blessings.




Son of a ... I knew that already, having seen it mentioned on Shemmy's Story Hour when you did, and completely forgot. Mea culpa.



> Ridley says hi. He invites you to his parlor.




   



> One of my backburner ideas is to create a squad of Mortalhunter/Mindspy Astraloths with some more pronounced psionic powers. I'll get around to finishing it. Eventually. Which reminds me, I really have to get some work done on my Bestiary of Ashtakala. I'm taking forever on the Eyes, not to mention the Weeds.




Ooh, nasty! Translation: Me likey.



> I'm interested in what kind of manuvers Six goes with from here.




He's mostly focusing on movement and stealth-oriented stuff, so mainly Shadow Hand maneuvers/stances, I think, with a little Diamond Mind. 



> And also about how he feels about the harness going in this direction...




I think "resigned" might be the appropriate word.



> Tell me, any halflings in the group?




No, but why'd you ask? And, of course, considering they supposedly got whacked in the middle of the Mournland, just about anything could be in the group now.



> If you really want to train them as a choir, I'll start some preliminary work on some of the Sinners the Angels might be liable to encounter at the beginning. I mean, no game is truly complete unless your players encounter the Seven Deadly Sins and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.




I tend to think of my PCs *as* the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, actually. Well, the Four Horsemen *and* the Apocalypse. Said Apocalypse now traveling in the form of a morbidly obese bear, of course.



			
				ajanders said:
			
		

> I was going to suggest something relatively simple: a clan of half-fiendish goblin warriors riding their half brothers: half fiendish wolves.
> Led by their father: a barghest.
> 
> Add warblade levels (or crusader levels) to taste.




Nice. I've always liked goblinoids, and especially in Eberron. The barghest thing would just be gravy. Nice, thick and deadly gravy.


----------



## shilsen

And here's the next update:

* * * * *

Once inside their quarters, Gareth changes into the formal attire, retaining his mithral chain shirt underneath the clothing. Having done so, he goes to Maddox and asks, “If we have one, would you please provide me with a copy of the itinerary? I just need to view it for a few minutes and can then return it to you.” The bone knight does so, and Gareth memorizes the list.

He then proceeds to Haydith’s chamber, where he is allowed in by a couple of amused ladies in waiting, exchanging giggles and quiet comments about how long he can bear to be separated from the princess. Ignoring them, Gareth takes Haydith aside and says, “Princess – as you know, our present surroundings are unfamiliar to me and my comrades. I believe you will be asked to view many areas for the sake of diplomatic posturing. I will stay by your side at all times, with no exceptions, and if at any point you feel a potential threat I want you to call out. If you feel you need to be subtle then simply speak these words ‘I need to excuse myself to freshen up.’ This will alert me to your situation and I will be at your side in the blink of an eye. Please note, however, if you utilize these words, I will not be paying much attention to diplomacy. While I shall attempt to not cause an undue commotion, it will be cursory at best, since my primary concern is your safety. Anyone who gets in my way will be put down fast and hard.” In response, Haydith smiles easily and says, “I appreciate the concern, Gareth, and I’ll feel much the safer for it, but I’m hopeful it won’t be needed.” Her smile turns slightly roguish and she adds, “The formality definitely is not required,” and looks like she might have added something. But after a glance at her whispering attendants, she desists.

Despite her suggestion, Gareth bows his way out after excusing himself, and returns to join the others. There, he tells Nameless, “Hopefully, we’ll have no trouble here, but if there is, we’re surrounded and heavily outnumbered in a place where we can’t unleash all our force without repercussions. There may come a time when we need to evacuate the area as a last ditch effort. If that happens, please use a _teleport_ – with the primary cargo being the princess. If that means you leave us behind, then do so. If she has been hurt, transport her to the temple in Sharn. Not the Cathedral, but Coldflame Keep, where Cedric and Mazin Tana are. If she has not been hurt, then transport her to either our destination or her home – whichever you think is best, depending on the situation.”

Nameless nods, but then points out, “I can’t take her to Karrnath. I’ve never been there.” After a slight pause, he adds, “Or at least not that I recall.” 

“All right. So the temple it is.”

“I'd rather make it our house. It's safer and an area I know perfectly.”  

Korm, who has been looking with a combination of interest and distaste at the clothing provided, which is clearly not designed for martial activity, says, “Hey, Gareth – are we allowed to carry our weapons during the meetings and stuff here?”  

“Not very likely if we’re going to be meeting Queen Aurala and others. Not that it’s a problem for us, really,” says Gareth, indicating the metal hand inside which the Endless Blade resides. “Everyone other than Six has spells or weapons of some kind available easily, and even Six has his fists. But let’s check and make sure.” 

After checking with Maddox, the Angels are informed of the protocol for the various meetings and dinners. Armor and weapons may be worn to the meetings, but keeping it to a minimum is considered good form. Maddox suggests putting any weapons larger than a dagger or a short sword in the various extra-dimensional spaces the Angels carry. The same is true for dinner, only even more so, with armor being highly non-recommended. But it’s doubtful, Maddox says, that anybody will comment if they do wear it.

Magic too is restricted in various ways. The active use of any magic on others is a huge no-no and would be taken very badly, whether it be a _detect magic_ or a _dominate person_. The use of personal magic augmentations and the like are not a problem, but illusions of any kind are forbidden, at both meetings and dinner. Aurala’s security certainly includes people (in all likelihood, House Medani members) who scan people for magic, and anyone with an illusion aura is asking to be stopped, questioned and probably  told to remove it. 

“That, of course, poses some problems for us,” says Nameless, thinking partly of Six and his third eye but especially of his own appearance. “To forestall any problems on this score, I’d like to approach and talk to the House Medani members about this ahead of time. I’d like to work out something where I can retain the _hat of disguise_. If not,” he smiles slightly, “Well, they will learn that ‘freaky,’ ‘bizarre’ and ‘alienist’ are essentially synonymous.” 

Maddox looks curiously at the mage. “I don’t know what an alienist is. What do you mean?”

“I am an alienist. It’s my area of specialization. Let’s just say our adventures have caused some changes in me that people might find distressing or unnerving and for that reason we would prefer to hide them, especially in our current situation.” 

“Would you mind showing me?” 

Nameless says nothing, simply letting the illusion fade away, revealing the tentacle with which he was just pushing back a lock of hair that had fallen over an eye. Though he tries to keep his expression carefully neutral, it’s not difficult to see that the bone knight is a little surprised. But Maddox recovers quickly. “I’ll see what can be arranged,” he says. “I can’t see you walking around the palace here with ... well, without a lot of questions and unnecessary problems. Which is not what we – or Haydith – need.”

Maddox leaves, speaks to the captain of the Aundairan guard contingent that has been provided, and returns a few minutes later with three individuals – one in the uniform of a colonel in the Aundairan army and two wearing unremarkable clothing with no insignia or distinguishing marks whatsoever. The lack, and the fact that they are both half-elves, tells Nameless and the others that they are probably Medani security. They ask Nameless to accompany them and Maddox, and the quintet move a little distance away from the area assigned to the visitors, and into a large office. 

Once inside and seated, one of the half-elves says, “I’m told that you’d like permission to move around with an illusion in effect. Sir Maddox here told us a little about it, but I’d like to hear from you. Could you explain precisely why, and also, if you could, provide us some assurance of how we might know it is you under the illusion at all times?”

Nameless replies, “I am no longer quite what I once was and some people find what I have become... disturbing,” and drops the illusion at that point. Evidently those present agree with his assessment. The Aundairan colonel curses, steps back hurriedly and drops a hand to his sword, while one of the presumed Medani members shoves himself back hurriedly from the table. The other, the one speaking, flinches very slightly, but otherwise has no overt reaction, saying only, “I ... see,” and then turning to give the other two an admonishing look.

Nameless continues, “You see why I cannot travel around without attracting attention and probably causing some concern. As to knowing if it’s me under the illusion ....” He indicates the blue glow that the dropping of the illusion has revealed around his eyes. “There are my eyes, which I could leave exposed. Perhaps I could also reveal what I truly am, discreetly shielded from view when I enter. Once inside, I should be the only person with an illusion running, which your men are evidently capable of detecting. If one of your men is capable of using _arcane sight_ I should have a distinctive magical ‘fingerprint.’ Perhaps you could also assign a man specifically to follow me, so you could be certain there was no ‘bait and switch’ going on.”

The Medani agent considers for a moment and then says, “Walking around with glowing blue eyes would be better, but not by much. Let me see something.” He produces a wand and triggers it, and concentrates for a moment, evidently studying the various auras on Nameless. “I can see what you mean by distinctive magic.” He notes down a number of the auras on a piece of paper and then says, “We shouldn’t have any problems. You may use that illusion, but just don’t add any besides that one. And if someone does stop you for some reason, ask for Rudin d’Medani. That’s me. Do you have any questions?”

“No, that is all. As you are obviously aware, we are extremely powerful casters and we have access to spells not commonly used. If there is some way we can assist you, please let us know. We would like this to go smoothly and without any complications, if possible.”

As Nameless stops, half expecting a giant bear to run into the room and tackle him, Rudin nods politely and says, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for the offer.” He rises and leads Nameless back to their quarters. Before turning to leave, he smiles and says, “I’ve read a little about you in the Korranberg Chronicle, but now I’m going to have to pay a little more attention to those sections.”

With Nameless’ situation taken care of, the Angels prepare themselves for the evening. Once it is time, they proceed, with the other members of the diplomatic delegation and Haydith’s train, accompanied by an Aundairan guard of honor, through the palace. The corridors and halls their route takes them through are mostly empty, only the statues of former Aundairan kings and queens watching their passage.

Eventually, they reach a large pair of double doors, guarded by four soldiers wearing the Aundairan national symbol, which is also emblazoned on the doors. The guards salute, turn and push open the doors, to the sound of a roll of drums and a flourish of trumpets, echoing as if they were in a huge hall, which they are. Beyond the doors a gigantic room unfolds itself in front of the entering contingent. Twin rows of fluted stone pillars extend down its length, vividly colored banners hanging from them and the balconies they support, depicting the standards of noble houses, military orders, and, of course, the royal colors of Aundair. At the far end of the room stands a trio of thrones upon an ornate marble dais with three broad steps. Only the central throne is occupied, by a figure that even at this distance can be seen to be distinctly female, evidently Queen Aurala. Between her and Haydith stand a multitude of people, forming rows on either side of the throne room of Aundair.

Haydith takes a deep breath, visibly calming herself, and strides forward with apparent confidence. Behind them, a herald cries out, voice pitched so as to carry across the chamber, “Princess Haydith ir’Wynarn, sister to King Kaius III of Karrnath, plenipotentiary emissary to Breland, Countess of the Western Marches, lady….” As the various titles are pronounced and Haydith walks on, the gathered courtiers applaud and Queen Aurala rises from her seat. It is not a momentous, but a significant occasion, especially in view of the still looming shadow of the Last War, and the not infrequent tension between their countries. Karrnath has come to Aundair, and Aundair has risen to greet her.

But there is more going on than meets the eye. Most of the Angels, with their lack of interest in – or knowledge of – social protocol at any level, do not notice it, but Gareth’s trained eyes do. As do some others, though none of them display significantly overt signs. Inara’s attractive face turns slightly wary, while Maddox’s eyes simply gleam with a grim light and Haydith’s lips purse slightly. Though it had originally looked as if the hall was crowded, that was mostly an illusion created by the sudden sight of those gathered within and the way they are spread out, scores covering a space that could have held hundreds. Many of them wear clothing that indicates minor functionaries of the court, outnumbering the actual nobility by a substantial margin. There also seem to be a larger number of guards and soldiers than one might expect. As the group advances, some others come in through a much larger doorway, above which the royal standard of Aundair hangs, indicating that Haydith’s contingent did not use the main entrance. And even Aurala’s rise from her throne only occurs after Haydith is halfway across the throne room. Aundair, while rising to greet Karrnath, has also very subtly – but clearly – informed the latter that she is only a subordinate part of Aundair’s interests.

To those not in the know, however, the welcome is fairly effusive. Queen Aurala, a tall and slender woman with golden hair running halfway down her back, steps forward and descends to meet Haydith, first clasping the younger woman’s hands in her own and then enfolding her in a hug. Stepping back, she says, “Greetings, cousin, or I should say more properly, niece. It’s a pleasure to see you again, and to welcome you to Aundair for the first time.”

As Haydith begins to thank Aurala for her hospitality, the queen places a hand companionably on her shoulder and steps forward, which forces the princess to turn with her. The queen runs her eyes over Haydith’s entourage, and addresses them (in the process interrupting Haydith), saying, “You are all welcome here too, of course.” She smiles broadly. “I believe we have some celebrities in our midst today.” Glancing at Haydith, she says, “You are being guarded by the Guardian Angels from Sharn, are you not? I would like to meet them.” 

At a signal from Haydith, Gareth quickly takes one step closer to the princess, forestalling his companions, and makes a bow towards the Queen. “Your Highness, it is an honor and a pleasure to be a guest in your court. My name is Gareth Byron Deneith, holy paladin of the Silver Flame. My companions, also known as the Guardian Angels, are,” as Gareth motions to each one in turn, “Archmagus Nameless, high druid Luna, artistic and skillful Six, and Korma’khan, high druid of the Gatekeepers. We are grateful for your hospitality and generosity, which have made us feel extremely comfortable and welcomed to your country and home.” Gareth ends with another, slightly less deep, bow.

Aurala smiles and slightly inclines her head in return. “It is a pleasure, Gareth Byron Deneith of the Silver Flame, to meet you. And all of you – Nameless, Luna, Six and Korm’akhan.” The queen’s gaze flickers over each of the Angels, and while the welcoming smile remains on her face, some of the Angels notice a tiny fleck of cold calculation in her eyes. Disconcertingly, the closest analogue to it they can recall is that which they have seen gleaming in Kylian’s, especially in his moments of greatest merriment. “I shall look forward to speaking to you, later in the evening. Like many here and across Khorvaire, I’ve read much of your exploits, and I’m curious how much of that is true, and perhaps what has not been mentioned.” 

Aurala’s voice changes gradually as she speaks, marginally increasing in volume but being drastically modified in pitch, so that the excellent acoustics carry it far across the chamber. “And, if nothing else, I owe a debt of thanks for your work in foiling the terrorist attack during my last visit to Breland. I am confident that, with heroes such as you, the peace between Aundair and Breland cannot be jeopardized.” The queen gazes around as she stops speaking and some of those in the immediate vicinity begin to clap.  It spreads quickly, until the entire assemblage is applauding the Angels.

Aurala turns, a pleasant smile on her face and a glint of satisfaction in her eyes, to Haydith, and says, “And, of course, our relations with our Karrnathi cousins too. Come. I have some people for you to meet.” The princess, whose face has tightened slightly during the queen’s addressing of the Angels, nods and follows her silently. Young as she is, Haydith has more than enough experience of the courts of Khorvaire to understand all the subtle intonations of Aurala’s speech and actions, from the co-opting of the Angels’ actions to the cause of Aundairan-Brelish relations (and, by extension, downgrading the importance of Karrnath to both countries), to the fact that the queen addressed a band of adventurers, however famous, while making a Karrnathi princess and sister to King Kaius wait.

Aurala leads Haydith to an ornate seat that has been placed beside the royal throne, and then takes her own seat. At a gesture from her, a number of people step forward from the ranks of gathered people, while the Angels and Haydith’s escorts are ushered to positions on either side. For the better part of the next hour, various members of the Aundairan court are introduced to Haydith. Pride of place is given to Aurala’s brother Adal and her current heir, First Warlord of the Realm and Royal Minister of Magic, a warrior-mage with features that are if possible even more hawkish than their sibling Aurad, governor of Fairhaven, who greeted the arrivals at the Lyrandar dock. Next in line is the martial figure of Lord Darro ir’Lain, Second Warlord of the Realm and commander of the Knights Arcane, some of whose forces Gareth had actually fought during the War. And behind them are dozens of nobles, diplomats, military figures, and functionaries, of all levels. 

All in all, the process is fairly boring for the Angels, especially Luna, who is soon huffing and muttering under her breath. Luckily, just as her companions are beginning to wonder if she – or more likely, the unfortunate people around her – might explode, Queen Aurala turns to Haydith. “I think that will do. Any more would begin to test the definitions of hospitality. And there are some other things that you should see before you leave Aundair. After all, who knows when you will be able to come here from Breland again?” Haydith smiles back sweetly. “Who knows? But my brother has often said that he plans to be seated here someday, and I may accompany him then.” There’s a moment of silence and a flicker in Aurala’s eyes at the unexpected display of steel in the seemingly pliant princess, and then, slowly, a smile that has a tinge of grudging respect in it. “Perhaps,” the queen says ambiguously, and then rises.

So does Haydith, and after an exchange of embraces, she and her entourage depart, this time with Lord Darro ir’Lain joining them. Over the course of the next three hours, Haydith leaves the palace and makes a number of stops, viewing an army parade, seeing a display from the mages of Arcanix, and visiting a couple of sites producing Aundair’s more popular exports, including a winery where the princess and her entourage are presented with a host of different vintages. 

Finally, the princess and her entourage return to the palace, with little more than an hour to rest before the banquet and ball that is to occur in Haydith’s honor. Lord Darro ir’Lain and their Aundairan escort drop them off at their quarters and depart. As the Aundairans are doing so, the Angels feel a soft tickle in their heads, and then a voice says, “Don’t worry – I’m a friend. Be careful of Lord Murat and Lady Kemiria at the dinner. They pose no physical danger, but may try to gain your confidence and benefit from you in some way.” One of the departing contingent, a guard among many others, turns and nods slightly at them. Nameless’ _arcane sight_ picks up a faint transmutation aura on him, and then it is gone. As is the guard, heading around the corner with the other Aundairans.


----------



## Solarious

shilsen said:
			
		

> True. You can never go wrong with death giants. Though death giants with Boojums are especially cool.



Question: are you pretending to know what I'm talking about when I'm saying Boojum, or am I facing a fellow Twisted Tale Theme fan?  


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Why not? I've never picked that book up, but I hear it has some very nasty things in it.



And... there goes my next paycheque. Damn.

Well, at least I can work on some modified Boneclaws in the interm. 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Son of a ... I knew that already, having seen it mentioned on Shemmy's Story Hour when you did, and completely forgot. Mea culpa.



You saw that? And you didn't say/do anything? I was so disappointed when nobody said anything in response to my posts of Astraloths...

Curse you shilsen!!! 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> He's mostly focusing on movement and stealth-oriented stuff, so mainly Shadow Hand maneuvers/stances, I think, with a little Diamond Mind.
> ...
> I think "resigned" might be the appropriate word.



Well, at least he isn't turning into morbidly obese dire bears that needs to crawl around. You gotta look on the bright side of this Six, being able to manipulate shadow has got to be less freaky than being able to suddenly able to turn partially into an illithid, or worse, a Paladin!


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> No, but why'd you ask? And, of course, considering they supposedly got whacked in the middle of the Mournland, just about anything could be in the group now.



I had just picked out the perfect mutation creature for a halfling. But hey, Mourlandized ex-Fett-buddies can wait. Gotta finish the Weeds.


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> I tend to think of my PCs *as* the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, actually. Well, the Four Horsemen *and* the Apocalypse. Said Apocalypse now traveling in the form of a morbidly obese bear, of course.



Okay...

Apocalypse - Luna
War - Gareth
Pestilence - Nameless/Edgar
Death - Six
Famine - ... Korm?


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Nice. I've always liked goblinoids, and especially in Eberron. The barghest thing would just be gravy. Nice, thick and deadly gravy.



Yeah, that's a simple and elegant party. But it lacks a critical ingredient.

Half-Fiend Worg NINJA.


----------



## ajanders

*Snort*
There are some situations where ninjae are not the answer.
Let's consider, for example, that a half-fiendish monster has wings.

Picture, please, a squadron of winged wolves chasing the airship while being spurred on by their half-fiendish goblin masters.

Each of them can use darkness 3 times/day, plus desecrate and unholy blight. And that's the *mounts*.

To further the effect, I've always treated hobgoblins and goblins as Japanese ever since Keep on the Borderlands.
Make them all first level samurai, riding by the ship and slashing viciously at the rigging with naginata (glaives, to us).
They can't fight the Angels, but they don't have to.
All they have to do is crash the ship.
Possibly on a desert island.

I'd shoot for _Lost_, but with your bunch of players, I think you're going to get _Gilligan's Island._

Or in the high mountains.
Think _Alive_.

Goblin demon-samurai, a crash, and a survival adventure.
I look forward to Gareth treating the Princess for hypothermia.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Question: are you pretending to know what I'm talking about when I'm saying Boojum, or am I facing a fellow Twisted Tale Theme fan?




I don't know about Twisted Tale Theme, so I was referring back to the source of the Boojum - Lewis Carroll's _The Hunting of the Snark_.



> And... there goes my next paycheque. Damn.
> 
> Well, at least I can work on some modified Boneclaws in the interm.




Ah, boneclaws. I've never really looked at those ones in detail. IIRC, they could be pretty interesting enemies with a couple of class levels.



> You saw that? And you didn't say/do anything? I was so disappointed when nobody said anything in response to my posts of Astraloths...
> 
> Curse you shilsen!!!




Mea culpa! Blame it on my laziness  I don't respond as much as I should to Shemmie's storyhours, considering I always read the updates and think they rock.

As for your Astroloths, let me just say that they're horribly, disgustingly scary  



> Well, at least he isn't turning into morbidly obese dire bears that needs to crawl around. You gotta look on the bright side of this Six, being able to manipulate shadow has got to be less freaky than being able to suddenly able to turn partially into an illithid, or worse, a Paladin!




Well, it's manipulating shadow and disguising yourself by growing flesh all over yourself, which later falls off in rotten, disgusting lumps. But yes, it's better than being made a paladin 

As for our poor Gatekeeper with his new aberration forms, I threatened him with the possibility that his new flying form will be half-beholder and will involve his ass filling up with buoyant gas and expanding till he can float. After the requisite horrified response, I went with half-cloaker instead. As ever, I am an ocean of kindness.



> I had just picked out the perfect mutation creature for a halfling. But hey, Mourlandized ex-Fett-buddies can wait. Gotta finish the Weeds.




Perfect mutation creature for a halfling? Do tell.



> Okay...
> 
> Apocalypse - Luna
> War - Gareth
> Pestilence - Nameless/Edgar
> Death - Six
> Famine - ... Korm?




Why not? Luna would probably be the best bet for Famine too, considering the whole "eat thrice as much as anyone" deal due to the (now embedded) symbiont, but she's the best option for the Apocalypse. Come to think of it, she does also fit quite well for War, Pestilence and Death too.

Luna - the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse rolled up in one giant hairy package.



> Yeah, that's a simple and elegant party. But it lacks a critical ingredient.
> 
> Half-Fiend Worg NINJA.








			
				ajanders said:
			
		

> *Snort*
> There are some situations where ninjae are not the answer.




True, but most things go better with a dash of ninjae for flavor.



> Let's consider, for example, that a half-fiendish monster has wings.
> 
> Picture, please, a squadron of winged wolves chasing the airship while being spurred on by their half-fiendish goblin masters.
> 
> Each of them can use darkness 3 times/day, plus desecrate and unholy blight. And that's the mounts.




Ooh - that's purty!



> To further the effect, I've always treated hobgoblins and goblins as Japanese ever since Keep on the Borderlands.




Keith Baker obviously likes the way you think. And I do too. The whole "Dhakaani as samurai" approach always sounded good to me since I first encountered it in Eberron.



> Make them all first level samurai, riding by the ship and slashing viciously at the rigging with naginata (glaives, to us).
> They can't fight the Angels, but they don't have to.
> All they have to do is crash the ship.
> Possibly on a desert island.
> 
> I'd shoot for Lost, but with your bunch of players, I think you're going to get Gilligan's Island.
> 
> Or in the high mountains.
> Think Alive.
> 
> Goblin demon-samurai, a crash, and a survival adventure.




Very nice ideas, but really next to impossible in the current context. With the capabilities of the PCs, even if some people did manage to crash the airship (which you'd need some serious levels to do), they'd be back in Sharn or make it to Karrnath within a couple of days. Nameless can Greater Teleport now and both Luna and Korm can do Transport via Plants, not to mention all the other major transport spells they have (Wind Walk, Phantom Stag/Steed, etc). Short of an anti-magic field, not much can keep these guys in one place if they don't want to be. 

Which I'm okay with. At these levels, the standard survival adventure (as opposed to a planar survival adventure or something of that kind) really doesn't work any more than it would have worked for a PC group consisting of Hercules, Cuchulainn, Merlin and Arjuna. But there's a whole lot of other stuff they can have to deal with that aren't possible at the levels where standard survival adventures work, so it more than evens out.



> I look forward to Gareth treating the Princess for hypothermia.




Just the possibility of getting to play that out almost justifies me inventing a huge antimagic area for them to crash in. Almost.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> Just the possibility of getting to play that out almost justifies me inventing a huge antimagic area for them to crash in. Almost.




Yeah, only being able to hit people with a tentacle sounds really thrilling and exciting.


----------



## Solarious

shilsen said:
			
		

> Very nice ideas, but really next to impossible in the current context. With the capabilities of the PCs, even if some people did manage to crash the airship (which you'd need some serious levels to do), they'd be back in Sharn or make it to Karrnath within a couple of days. Nameless can Greater Teleport now and both Luna and Korm can do Transport via Plants, not to mention all the other major transport spells they have (Wind Walk, Phantom Stag/Steed, etc). Short of an anti-magic field, not much can keep these guys in one place if they don't want to be.



Oh, but there is. Well, it isn't an anti-magic field, and it isn't in Khorvaire, and it's in a dessert rather than a watery island. But places that are difficult for high level adventurer parties to escape do exist on Eberron, if not neccessarily on Khorvaire.

If they decide to go back to Xen'drik in an airship, let me know ahead of time so I can introduce you to the Lost City of Enggha.


----------



## ajanders

Sure, the PC's can leave whenever they want, fly/walk/teleport, whatever.  

All they have to do is leave behind large chunks of Karnathi royalty, possibly injured from the ship crash, possibly still being stalked by half-fiendish goblin samurai, definitely exposed to the elements and the natural hazards of Khorvaire.

It's not that I don't think they'd run off and leave everyone, it's just that being known as the people who left a princess to freeze to death while eaten by wolves causes a whole new set of problems for them.


----------



## Solarious

Oh, it's easy enough to bring them along. It'll take longer, with perhaps a few days dedicated to transportation, but it can be done with mass Teleports, Transport via Plants, Wind Walks, flying Steeds, increasing carrying capacities with extradimensional space and transmutations, etc...

Besides, Nameless can invoke Mordenkainen's Magnificent Mansion to keep most of them happy and safe while the are moved off. At his level, MMM lasts for over 24 hours, and I'm sure a 9-course meal can be stretched around a little.



			
				ajanders said:
			
		

> *Snort*
> There are some situations where ninjae are not the answer.



But... ninja...

*BLASPHEMY!!!*


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> As for your Astroloths, let me just say that they're horribly, disgustingly scary



Ah, the warm fuzzy feeling of approval makes an excellent balm for the burning sting of failure and rejection.  


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Well, it's manipulating shadow and disguising yourself by growing flesh all over yourself, which later falls off in rotten, disgusting lumps. But yes, it's better than being made a paladin



I forgot about that. But hey, at least it isn't integral, defining part of his character.

Knowing you though, I'm sure it will be soon enough. 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> As for our poor Gatekeeper with his new aberration forms, I threatened him with the possibility that his new flying form will be half-beholder and will involve his ass filling up with buoyant gas and expanding till he can float. After the requisite horrified response, I went with half-cloaker instead. As ever, I am an ocean of kindness.



 

My god. Oh my frikken holy mother of Jaya Ballard. Sweet merciful Dol Azur. Korm... flying... bouyant ass... That's beautiful. Just beautiful. 


			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Luna - the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse rolled up in one giant hairy package.



Sad thing is, I don't disagree.


----------



## ajanders

Solarious said:
			
		

> Oh, it's easy enough to bring them along. It'll take longer, with perhaps a few days dedicated to transportation, but it can be done with mass Teleports, Transport via Plants, Wind Walks, flying Steeds, increasing carrying capacities with extradimensional space and transmutations, etc...
> 
> Besides, Nameless can invoke Mordenkainen's Magnificent Mansion to keep most of them happy and safe while the are moved off. At his level, MMM lasts for over 24 hours, and I'm sure a 9-course meal can be stretched around a little.




_You _don't know how to make that difficult. _I_ don't know how to make that difficult.
_Shil does._

Shilsen is the dwarven god of misfortune.


----------



## Solarious

The problem being, as shil put it earlier, is that he can't do it without appearing to railroad this situation down their throats. Railroading is definitely not shil's style, and neither is it conductive to the world's most lethal symbiont-warped shifter druid's temperment.

Going from all the anecdotal evidence that we're drowning in, Luna isn't someone you want comming after you, IC or out of it.

Besides, I _do_ know a way to achieve results similar to what you want. Just not in your specific situation involving hypothermic princesses and dying Karnnathi nobles. Because that would definitely involve shutting down nearly all the magic which 4 out of 5 players have invested in heavily, in a very large area, and that would be unfun for those 4 out of 5 players. Including everyone's favorite _Flame Strike_ happy psycho, Luna.

Besides which, the airship trip is probably over and done with, or nearly so anyways.


----------



## shilsen

Solarious said:
			
		

> Oh, it's easy enough to bring them along. It'll take longer, with perhaps a few days dedicated to transportation, but it can be done with mass Teleports, Transport via Plants, Wind Walks, flying Steeds, increasing carrying capacities with extradimensional space and transmutations, etc...
> 
> Besides, Nameless can invoke Mordenkainen's Magnificent Mansion to keep most of them happy and safe while the are moved off. At his level, MMM lasts for over 24 hours, and I'm sure a 9-course meal can be stretched around a little.




That Portable Hole of theirs is the best asset in that area. You can easily stick a half dozen people in there, teleport, and pop them back out again a few seconds later with no trouble.



> I forgot about that. But hey, at least it isn't integral, defining part of his character.
> 
> Knowing you though, I'm sure it will be soon enough.




Well, it's effectively part of his physical structure now, and since he's going to be taking more swordage levels ...



> My god. Oh my frikken holy mother of Jaya Ballard. Sweet merciful Dol Azur. Korm... flying... bouyant ass... That's beautiful. Just beautiful.




Thanks. Somehow Michael Tree (Korm's player) didn't appreciate the awesome beauty of the concept. Some people have no taste.



			
				ajanders said:
			
		

> Shilsen is the dwarven god of misfortune.






I wonder what sort of a portfolio that would give me. 



			
				Solarious said:
			
		

> The problem being, as shil put it earlier, is that he can't do it without appearing to railroad this situation down their throats. Railroading is definitely not shil's style, and neither is it conductive to the world's most lethal symbiont-warped shifter druid's temperment.




True on all three counts. I'd be much more amenable to doing that kind of stuff if the PCs were off in Xen'drik or poking around in the Demon Wastes or back at Yarkuun Draal, since that would be a lot more justifiable a location for "really weird magic - or the lack of it - that screws you" than on an airship trip across some of Khorvaire's most highly populated and urban nations.



> Going from all the anecdotal evidence that we're drowning in, Luna isn't someone you want comming after you, IC or out of it.




I believe the sentence can safely end at "Luna isn't someone you want."



> Besides, I do know a way to achieve results similar to what you want. Just not in your specific situation involving hypothermic princesses and dying Karnnathi nobles. Because that would definitely involve shutting down nearly all the magic which 4 out of 5 players have invested in heavily, in a very large area, and that would be unfun for those 4 out of 5 players. Including everyone's favorite Flame Strike happy psycho, Luna.




True, which is why if I ever go this route, it'll be strictly a short term "aw, crap - how do we deal with this?" scenario. A long period with the PCs unable to use the majority of their abilities could slide a lot closer to irritating. Even if I think it would be marvellously character-building for Nameless to have to hit things with his tentacle 



> Besides which, the airship trip is probably over and done with, or nearly so anyways.




Nearly so. The point where we ended our last session before I left was with the conclusion of the Emerald Claw attack on the airship. We actually glossed over the stop at Aundair and decided we'd play it out over email and our forums, which is what we're doing right now. So finishing that up, covering what happened on the trip between Aundair and the main attack (you didn't think there'd only be one, did you?), and then the main battle, will give me enough material for updates into late July and maybe even early August. The ones after Aundair will hopefully be a little faster, since it won't be dependent on playing stuff out over our forums.


----------



## shilsen

After receiving the message from the unknown guard and seeing from their expressions that the others did too, Gareth whispers to Nameless, “I didn’t need that message to warn me about politicians attempting to use us to their advantage, but at least we have some concrete leads. Do you have any telepathy spells that have a long term effect?”

Nameless nods and begins, “Yes, I can create a _telepathic bond_, which would link me and up to four other people, and last over…,” when Luna – who has been looking suspiciously after the soldier, interrupts. She steps over to whisper hurriedly to her companions, “Should I go grab him and find out what the hell he meant?” The tone is hopeful, but becomes less so as she takes in her friends’ various expressions, and she quickly adds, “Or I could just wildshape and follow him subtly. Like maybe as a poodle again?” A little wistfully, she adds, “Man alive, it’s been a long time since I was a poodle!”

Gareth reflexively and loudly says, “NO!” Seeing a few curious glances from the guards who have remained behind at the end of the hallways, he lowers his voice and hisses, “No! You are _not_ following anyone! The last time you got us in a lot of trouble, but at least that was a party – this time you could breach security and get us imprisoned or dead. Besides, with House Medani and others around, you would be spotted very fast. Also, this guy is probably smart enough to avoid being found; speaking telepathically to a group of people is not that simple.” Thinking for a moment, he adds, not just to Luna, “I don’t know this person, and I don’t trust this person’s information.” Looking back at Luna, he says, “There are only two things here. Either somebody’s trying to hurt us or somebody’s trying to help us. Just so you know.”

Luna snorts, with a combination of disappointment and disgust. “Oh, please! Tell me something I don’t know, genius! Every second bloody idiot we meet is trying to hurt us, and the ones that say they’re trying to help us are also trying to hurt us half the time. Ghraagh! I’m getting _sooo_ bored with this crappy escort job!” She glares around at the group. “You guys better hope something exciting happens at the dinner-ball, otherwise I am going to go bat-. _Dire_ bat-!” With that, she turns and begins to stalk towards one of the rooms the group has been provided.

Nameless reaches out to stop her, his illusion-hidden tentacle coiling around her shoulder and drawing a quick “Eww! Don’t touch me like that!” from Luna. Ignoring Korm’s muttered, “Funny how you never said that to the gnome,” Nameless says quietly, “Why don’t you just leave now? We can have Gareth make some excuses for you, and you can come back in a couple of hours after the boring formalities are over.”

Gareth looks at Nameless in shock. “Do we really want Luna roaming the palace, or any part of the world, alone? Wouldn't it be much better to sedate her? Sleeping poison? Maybe give her a shiny bauble to play around with?”

The alienist eyes Gareth as if he were a slightly slow child. “Luna’s been immune to poison for over a month now, remember?”

“Oh yeah ... okay, shiny bauble it is.”

Luna growls. “You know where you can put that shiny bauble? And yeah, that sounds like a great idea, Nameless. I could really use the chance to pop out and stretch my wings, and check out a little of this city. And relax – I’ll stay out of trouble.”

Six says, “I’ll be offering odds on that, if anybody’s interested.”

“Bah! Everyone’s a critic!” Luna shakes an admonishing finger and heads into the room. 

A minute later, an inordinately fat pigeon about the size of a small goose flaps out of the window of the room and makes its slow way into the sky. Its passage is mostly unnoticed, except by the queen’s head falconer, out exercising one of her prize goshawks in a large garden some distance away. Amused and intrigued at the sight of the huge pigeon, he releases the hunting bird. Despite the distance, the goshawk rapidly catches up to and gains altitude over its slow-moving prey, which must be either blind or stupid, considering its complete lack of reaction to the predator. With a sharp cry, the goshawk descends upon it, a feathered bolt of destruction. The falconer is too far away to make out the details, but there is a single sound, seeming more like a growl than a bird’s cry, and then, amazingly, what he thinks is a small explosion. And then only the pigeon winging its way onwards, while the shape of the goshawk plummets downwards.

Horrified, the falconer rushes to the scene, to find the goshawk alive, though stunned and significantly bedraggled, with one badly torn wing and strangely scorched feathers. Clutching the dazed bird to his chest, the man hurries off towards the mews, grateful that the queen hadn’t been present to see what happened. Luckily for his continuing employment, he is able to revive the goshawk to full health eventually, though it never quite gets over a tendency to scream and huddle on the ground when a pigeon flies by. 

* * * * *
Nearly two hours later, the Angels – including Luna, who returned just in time, looking very satisfied with her excursion – are among a few scores of people walking, sitting and chatting in a giant hall in the palace. None of the guards from Haydith’s entourage or the Brelish contingent are present, leaving Haydith accompanied by Maddox, Theda, Gustavus, Malkom, Inara, and the Angels. A few discreetly – and distantly – placed Aundairan soldiers can be seen, but none of them close enough to jar with the surroundings. From the rich, sometimes exotic and often ostentatious, clothing of the guests, to the tables laden with the choicest delicacies from Aundair and the rest of the Five Nations (and beyond), to the various insignia imprinted on the banners hanging over the heads of the people below – there is a very conspicuous display of royal and noble splendor here. 

At any other time, the Angels might have been completely out of place here, but thanks to the garb provided, they fit in fairly well – at least at first glance. Gareth, Korm and Nameless (the latter aided by his constant illusion) are all resplendent in outfits normally worn by high-ranking nobles, wearing fabrics incorporating a combination of blues, purples and other rare dyes, and including significantly more jewelry than any of them would otherwise wear. Luna looks surprisingly fetching in a long green gown, which has evidently been designed with a shifter wearer in mind. Though it is slit along the side to reveal a tanned and muscular thigh, the neckline is unusually high and serves to hide any chest hair, and a craftily made combination of hat and hairband combines to hide most of her wild mane of hair and sideburns. Even Six, though not wearing other clothes, has been provided with a large fur-lined cloak and a hat, which combine to disguise most of his bulky and martial form. The others too have been similarly attired to best advantage, even Maddox having doffed his usual bone armor for a suit that makes him look more like a burly merchant than a deadly warrior.

Naturally, Haydith and those who accompany her are the center of attention, with people constantly swirling around them, mostly just exchanging platitudes and the usual meaningless social chit-chat. After the princess, the Angels draw the greatest attention, due to the combination of their position and fame (or notoriety). They also find it difficult to stay together or near the princess, considering the amount of people talking to her and to them, and the various directions in which they are often pulled or propelled. 

Haydith, glowing brightly to Nameless’ _arcane eye_ with all the protective spells that he and Gareth have placed upon her, is standing nearby, chatting with Aurala and a couple of others. Gareth, who has been staying close to the princess and only giving simple, short and very basic answers to people speaking with him, sees her take a few steps away as the queen introduces her to another noble, and makes an attempt at extricating himself from a conversation with Lord Darro ir’Lain and Maddox. Darro, who is speaking, frowns slightly at the obvious move and Haydith, who has been watching Gareth almost as much as he has her, quickly transmits a message over the _telepathic bond_ that Nameless has set up between her, Gareth, Korm, Six and Nameless himself. “Gareth – try not to make any diplomatic faux pas. I seriously doubt anyone would risk something in such a gathering, even if they could get past all the security, with all the protective magic you’ve used on me and all of you nearby I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” There is the mental sound of a giggle, as she adds, “We’ve got enough people gossiping about you following me around everywhere.” 

Gareth replies telepathically, “What gossip are you speaking of? Not that it matters – I will keep more distance, but I would be remiss if I missed something. Not all attackers use brute force.”

“I’ll remember that,” is the response. “As for the gossip, it’s just some silly people talking.” There’s another soft mental giggle.

After being instructed to do so Gareth gives more attention to Darro, who is speaking to both him and Maddox. “As I was saying, all our nations, and us as individuals, have lost much in the War, which is why preventing any chance of it recurring is a very important aim to us in Aundair.” He turns to Gareth. “I believe you lost your father at the Battle of Grace. It is a pity. I had heard good things of Marshal Byron Deneith.”

A moment of pain and pride fills Gareth at the mention of his father. “Marshal Byron Deneith was a great man, and an amazing father. I was lucky to have had him train me – I was lucky to have had him save my life. I could only hope to one day be half the man that he was.”

Darro says nothing, simply lifting his glass in a silent toast to the memory of Gareth’s father. The paladin continues, “As for the nations, it is important they work together in harmony. Take it from my experience, there are things much more grave out there then petty rivalries and self-indulgent greed to power. There are creatures I have seen that just the very mention of them would cause people to want to cower in a hole for eternity – and I guarantee you that would not help at all. There are creatures out there that can level armies at glance. I wish I could show people that we need to come together to work as one – evil has no problem using us against us.”

Darro shrugs and says “The nations working together harmoniously is obviously something most right-thinking people in Khorvaire want, but it is a difficult process. So many kingdoms, cultures and smaller groups, all of them with their individual agendas, most bearing deep scars and resentments from the War – it’s hardly surprising that there hasn’t been any unified movement among the nations since the Accords. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t have been better if the War had been fought to a finish, leaving one clear victor to unite Khorvaire under her banner.”

“Or his,” says Maddox dryly, reminding Gareth that while Aundairans refer to their nation as a motherland, in Karrnath it is a fatherland that people speak of. Darro’s head snaps up at Maddox and his eyes flash for a moment, but as the bone knight calmly holds his gaze and then looks down to lift his glass, Darro nods slowly. “Yes.”

Listening, Gareth shakes his head. “One banner is not needed, and as you said people differ too much to live under one banner – what is needed is for the pettiness to stop.  We can be different and work for just causes.” He motions to Nameless. “Look at Nameless over there.  We argue consistently, and to outsiders we might seem like bitter enemies, but when push comes to shove we are side by side and work together to vanquish our foes.  That is the unity we need – to be different is okay, to argue is okay, but to fight against each other is not.”

Darro replies, “I agree, but sometimes I wonder if it will take some great external threat to unify the nations, by requiring them to work together against a common foe, just as you and your companions do. Is that the kind of enemy and evil you were speaking of? What did you have in mind?”

“May the Silver Flame prevent such a tragedy before it begins!” says Gareth. “Whatever the final benefits, unfortunately anything like that will mean many have already suffered.  The enemies I speak of are Daelkyr, ancient dragons, artifacts of great and devastating power in the hands of those who would crave it.”

Darro nods but says nothing, and after a short silence, Gareth turns to Maddox. “What made you choose the path you have taken? It is a difficult one, and takes dedication that not many can muster up.”

Maddox hesitates, and then replies slowly, “I am surprised you need to ask me that question. As a paladin of the Silver Flame, you yourself must know – and carry out – tasks that require dedication beyond what the average person can, or is willing to, provide. When I left Rekkenmark, the ranks of the Bone Knights had been thinned by the War, and they were greatly needed. That was a path I was both willing and able, since I was already a paladin of the Blood of Vol, to pursue. So I did, and after the War, I continue to pursue it, since it … suits me and vice versa. There really isn’t more to it than that.” He smiles a rare smile. “I’d be happy to train you in the art, if you want,” but the tone says he knows what Gareth’s response will be.

“For me it has always been a calling,” says Gareth, “Not something that is mutually beneficial but something that is a part of me – like an arm to others.” As he speaks, the paladin remembers his current condition and chuckles inwardly at the irony of the statement. “It is a great honor of which you ask me, but my faith and service is to the Silver Flame – the causes of good and justice.”

A little distance from Gareth, Aurala’s brother and Royal Minister of Magic Adal is saying to Nameless, “I believe you are the premier mage in Sharn and one of the most skilled in Breland. That’s very impressive. Have you ever visited the Aundairan colleges of magic? Especially Arcanix? I would think someone of your skills would find it very interesting there.”

Nameless shakes his head. “Between chasing rakshasas, battling dragons and having tea with vampires we’ve had regrettably little time available for pursuing academic interests. However, now that I’ve been here I may return to consult on some matters that have recently arisen. What can you tell me about other alienists at the Academy?”

Adal emits a short and sharp laugh, drawing covert glances from a couple of people in the vicinity, and then says, “Really? I presume such events will be covered in the Chronicle too?”

“Most of it. There is some information we don’t divulge for reasons of either confidence or danger. As adventurers, we do run across things where it is safer that they remain a secret and, of course, we do undertake confidential missions as well. We try to maintain a good working relationship with the authorities in Sharn. They always have uses for a powerful adventuring group and it has proved a useful way to hone our skills.”

Adal takes a sip from his glass while listening. “You said that you might want to visit the Floating Towers to consult on some recent developments? May I ask what they are? I might be able to recommend someone for you to speak to and, of course, I can provide an introductory letter and arrange for you to be given access to Arcanix.”

“I have some questions about the Far Realms that my regular sources have proved inadequate to answer. Other sources I have sought out have proved unhelpful. I am approaching transcendence and there is more I must know.”

“The Far Realms? You mean Xoriat? That’s really out of my area of expertise. As for other alienists who might be able to help...,” The Royal Minister of Magic strokes his chin thoughtfully for a couple of moments, and then says, “...that’s not an area of expertise for me, of course, but I daresay at least a couple of people at Arcanix would know about such things. I believe Daumar Ronag is an alienist, though much less skilled than you. Theviana ir’Lantar, currently the leading expert on Planar Studies at Arcanix, also has some interests in that area. I believe you met one of her distant cousins in Sharn, our ambassador there who disappeared mysteriously some time ago.”

“Unfortunately, someone significantly less powerful than I is unlikely to be of much help. When I encounter a problem and question that I cannot solve myself, they are no longer those which any but the most skilled and knowledgeable can assist me with. But what can you tell me about your ambassador’s disappearance? Was it in Sharn? We might be able to investigate the matter if it was. As I mentioned we try to maintain a good working relationship with the authorities. Though it might be awhile before we have a chance to look into it.”

“Really?” says Adal. “Aurala would be quite pleased if you did so, and very grateful if you managed to solve the mystery. I’d have to check, but I think Helais disappeared on the 3rd of Rhaan, which makes it a month and a half now. And yes, he did disappear from Sharn. The last person to see him was his twin, the co-Ambassador, Alais, who saw him go up to his room that night. He was never seen again, and his bed was apparently not slept in, nor was there a struggle, so he was very likely kidnapped magically. We’ve used diviners to attempt to ascertain his location or situation, but there must be powerful magic protection involved, since we’ve discovered effectively nothing.” 

The details that Adal mentions jog Nameless’ prodigious memory, and he recalls hearing of Helais’ disappearance before. Flim Turen had mentioned it to the Angels after their return from the Demon Wastes, among the news in Sharn during their absence. Helais had disappeared the night before their departure. Nameless also recalls Helais, a tall half-elf whom they had met at Corven’s investiture in his lordship, where the Cyran aide Tyrala had commented that he rarely attended such ceremonies and that while he was an effective diplomat and strong proponent for improved relations between the nations in a post-War Khorvaire, she did not trust him. The Angels had met him again during their visit to the Karrnathi embassy, when they had spied on Dals Nelmo, the Butcher of Eston.

Adal continues, “I believe that Helais is, unfortunately, dead, but we can’t be certain. If you could ascertain his situation, one way or the other, I’d be very pleased. There is, naturally, a significant reward for such information, and Alais has also announced a reward from their personal wealth – which is actually quite extensive – for information leading to certainty about his brother’s fate. The two were identical twins and very close.” 

He pauses and then asks, “You said it would be a while before you’d be able to check on this, if you did. I presume that’s because of escorting Haydith to Karrnath and back again on her return. Or is there anything else you expect to be busy with? And, if you don’t mind me asking, are you planning to do more such work for the Brelish crown? The reason I ask is, if you’ll forgive the crassness, because people of your ability are rare, and especially so in the sort of group you and your companions form, so I’d honestly like to benefit from this meeting. Especially since, as Royal Minister of Magic, much of my work has to do with the advancement of magical study and practice in Aundair. Even though Arcanix is undoubtedly the premier arcane academy on Khorvaire, I’m sure someone of your abilities would help improve it. And conversely, the resources there would certainly be a great asset to you in your current and future endeavors, I’m sure. Such as in this movement towards transcendence, whatever you mean by it.” Adal falls silent and looks at Nameless quizzically.    

_This could be beneficial._ The alienist says, “I’ll raise the topic with my comrades when the opportunity arises and investigate with the magic I have at my command as opportunities permit. Unfortunately, one of my most powerful divinations does carry some risk of disabling me for a period of time and that is not something I can permit at this time. And there are some other tasks we have committed to which may or may not consume a significant amount of time. One of them is a favor to a former comrade.”

“Even if time were not an issue, working at Arcanix in some sort of a full time capacity is not something I would be interested in. I hold with a philosophy of struggle and believe that growth comes through risk and pitting one’s self against the dangers or challenges of the world. Sitting in a classroom and lecturing to students would directly contradict this approach.” 

Pausing for a moment, Nameless is struck by an idea. However, it’s only a glancing blow and fails to penetrate his magical (or intellectual) armor. “However, it occurs to me that it is possible we could meet half way. I have discussed with my comrades the possibility of organizing and supporting some adventuring group or groups to deal with tasks that are either too easy to require our attention or for which we do not have the time. Well trained mages would be required for such groups and interested students from your Academy could provide that. In return, these groups would provide them with the kind of seasoning in combat that academic pursuits can not provide. We would provide a certain amount of mentoring and hopefully a rescue team, should any of the groups get in over their heads.”

Some distance from Nameless, Six stands in the middle of a relatively open space, since most of the guests do not bother the three-eyed and especially martial looking warforged. Which suits him just fine, until he is accosted by a short and portly gentleman.. With no preamble, he begins, “I don’t mean to be offensive, but as a warforged yourself, what do you think of the current treatment of warforged? I’m hearing that Cannith South is hiring them … I mean your people … in great numbers. Some people are quite concerned about that, saying that Cannith is trying to form a private army, but I think that’s just bollocks. Don’t you?”

Six, who has been steadily getting bored with the party and a little irritated at having to put up with the social encounters that he firmly believes his companions are incompetent at dealing with, thinks (in a remarkably Luna-like manner), _Get away from me, you git, before I tear off your head and pour dire bear and bat poop down your neck!_ Not expressing the sentiment aloud, he simply says, “I agree. I have walked the halls of the Cannith South headquarters in Sharn, seen their laboratories and spoken to many people there. I am convinced by what I have seen that there is no such army. You have nothing to fear; everything is fine with the warforged situation. _For a certain definition of fine_, Six thinks, knowing that his reply involves a certain degree of oversimplification, misstatement of facts, unsubstantiated claims and the odd complete falsehood, but is essentially true – to the best of his knowledge – on the main subject of the original question: the existence of a warforged army controlled by House Cannith. 

The big warforged runs his gleaming, lidless eyes, over the soft, pudgy figure before him and thinks cynically, _And things like that are the least of your problems. After all, you spend half your life in a state that puts you very near a realm of mental horror, filled with powerful beings that want your essence and your only protection is the belief you are safe. If I could sleep, that would keep me up a lot more than thoughts of an artificer collecting a warforged army._ Again, instead of mentioning anything of what he thinks, Six asks, “And who might you be?”

The man smiles broadly and makes a clumsy bow, spilling part of his drink in the process. “I am Lord Murat. I don’t know if you have heard of me,” he beams at Six hopefully, and continues, “But I’m – if I may say so myself – regarded as one of the more progressive of my rank and I’ve been trying to lobby for greater appreciation of the various, and especially rarer, races in Aundair. Warforged, for example, are one group I’m very interested in, because I think they’re often very badly treated. It’s really wrong how you people can be treated like walking machines! I’m happy that folks like you are gaining some attention, so maybe more people will realize that warforged can be productive members of society deserving just the same rights as others!” Murat is getting quite excited by this point, turning a little red in the face and beginning to gesticulate. Realizing this when he again sprays a little wine around him, he visibly calms himself and says, “Sorry. It’s just something I feel strongly about. I’m sure you and your friends have opinions about the subject too.” 

_Murat?_ Six sends a telepathic message to the others, informing them that he has found one of the two individuals that the guard had warned them about. Korm, currently facing a very matronly looking baroness and her twin sister, transmits back, “Could you send him over here and ask him to try and kill me? I’ve got two bimbos asking me about fashion!”

As he is completing the message, the baroness strokes his arm familiarly and gushes, “Your friends and you must be getting invited to the best parties! Tell me, what are the ladies currently wearing in Sharn? Hats! What kind of hats? I’ve always wanted to go to Sharn myself, but never had the opportunity. And I’m not sure how I’d handle the heights. Is it very drafty? Do people have to wear thick clothing all the time? I mean, I’m all right with fur, but not _all_ the time. Do you like fur? I think …”

While Korm grits his teeth and wonders how someone can speak without seeming to breathe, Luna is getting just as bored, and without the recourse of transmitting rude things telepathically to her companions, since she has been left out of the _bond_. She smiles wanly and tries to bring her attention back to the three young men surrounding and plying her with compliments.

A couple of the men look a little disheartened at the expression, but the third says quietly, “Are you doing anything later? These formal parties are damn boring, and I'd love to see you in more comfortable surroundings afterwards.” He leans over to fill her glass and quickly whispers, “Or now, if you'd like to sneak out.” Her interest piqued, Luna notes that the speaker is likely the oldest of the three, in his late twenties or perhaps even early thirties, whereas the other two are in their mid to late twenties, at most.

She smiles, yawns loudly, and says, “Well, I do have to agree on that score at least. Man – this is a LAME party!!” She looks the young noble up and down as if he were a joint of meat. “Do you have any tattoos? Or maybe just a cool scar with a good story to back it up?”

The young man grins broadly at Luna’s question and says quietly, “No tattoos, unfortunately, but I do have the odd scar. Not in places I can show you at a party, but maybe elsewhere. I’m sure you have some interesting ones too.” As the other two men look around uncertainly, clearly having been cut out of the conversation, and back off a bit, his grin turns wicked and voice drops a little further. “And might be willing to leave a couple, if I ask nicely?” 

Luna laughs and then adds, “Good answer. You know, I can _dimension door_ the two of us out of here.” Her companion looks surprised for a split second and then nods quickly. “My carriage is right outside.” He closes his eyes for a couple of seconds and calculates. “All right. If you can get us approximately eight hundred feet in that direction,” he says, indicating a window, “That would be great. But before we go....”

He turns towards Queen Aurala, talking to Haydith some distance away, with Gareth hovering in the background, and waves gaily. The Queen of Aundair looks up and at him, seeming slightly surprised, and he makes a gesture with his index and middle fingers as if they were two walking legs. Aurala frowns slightly but then nods. The young noble bows and turns back to Luna. “And we’re free. Would you do the honors?” He slides an arm companionably around her waist.

_Finally!_ “And we’re off!” Luna places an arm over his, speaks the command word, and both she and her new date disappear. Aurala, who is watching them, looks startled for a moment, and a number of others notice the sudden disappearance.

Nameless, one of those to do so, rolls his eyes and transmits to Gareth, “See why I wanted her distracted as much as possible? If we hear tomorrow morning that part of Fairhaven blew up, you’re doing the explaining!”


----------



## Sidekick

YAY - update on my favourite SH. 

Keep up the good works there Shil.

You still over India way or have you got back from the holiday?

Hope you're having/had fun.

Sidekick


----------



## GrandArchon

shilsen said:
			
		

> I am approaching transcendence and there is more I must know.




Oh really? How long until he hits that point, Shilsen?


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> YAY - update on my favourite SH.
> 
> Keep up the good works there Shil.




Thanks. I plan to keep doing so throughout the break.



> You still over India way or have you got back from the holiday?




Still in India. I'll be here till 19th August, so there's still a while to go.



> Hope you're having/had fun.
> 
> Sidekick




If stuffing yourself like a pig, lying around a lot, reading a bunch of things you haven't got to for two years, meeting family and hanging out with friends you also haven't seen for two years, and watching cricket (also for the first time in 2 years) counts as fun, then yes, yes I am   



			
				GrandArchon said:
			
		

> Oh really? How long until he hits that point, Shilsen?




He's currently at Wizard6/Alienist7, so three more levels. Of course, since we're normally playing fortnightly nowadays and I'm flattening out the leveling curve a bit, that'll likely take him well into 2008 to reach.


----------



## GrandArchon

shilsen said:
			
		

> He's currently at Wizard6/Alienist7, so three more levels. Of course, since we're normally playing fortnightly nowadays and I'm flattening out the leveling curve a bit, that'll likely take him well into 2008 to reach.




Ouch. >_O; A whole year then? Maybe more. The anticipation is killing me! Let’s hope you don't kill him first! Send his player my tentacled love and sympathy.


----------



## Rackhir

GrandArchon said:
			
		

> Ouch. >_O; A whole year then? Maybe more. The anticipation is killing me! Let’s hope you don't kill him first! Send his player my tentacled love and sympathy.




You mean "Kill him again"? He's already killed Nameless once. Of course with the nuke in his chest if he dies now it's campaign over...


----------



## ajanders

I can't see exactly where this is going, but I get the three big options.

1. Somebody is going to try and kill Luna.

2."From Aundair, With Love"

3. Shilsen didn't have stats for a half gnome or half shifter, but figured a shifter and a human produced a human.


----------



## GrandArchon

ajanders said:
			
		

> I can't see exactly where this is going, but I get the three big options.
> 
> 1. Somebody is going to try and kill Luna.
> 
> 2."From Aundair, With Love"
> 
> 3. Shilsen didn't have stats for a half gnome or half shifter, but figured a shifter and a human produced a human.




1. Or inversly, Luna might kill someone important. On accident, of course.

2. I'm tempted to say, in Namelesses case, it would be, 'From Xoriat, With Tentacles'.

3. I'm not sure where I heard (or read) this, but I think that kids are supposed to (in most cases) take after their mother.


----------



## Rackhir

ajanders said:
			
		

> I can't see exactly where this is going, but I get the three big options.
> 
> 1. Somebody is going to try and kill Luna.




Oh I hope so. She's always calmer after she's ripped someone limb from limb and gotten to flame strike them. Traumatizing the Hawk only placated her for an hour or two.

If she got kidnapped, well "Ransom of Red Chief" anyone?


----------



## Seekerofskill

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Oh I hope so. She's always calmer after she's ripped someone limb from limb and gotten to flame strike them. Traumatizing the Hawk only placated her for an hour or two.
> 
> If she got kidnapped, well "Ransom of Red Chief" anyone?





I see a vore story coming soon.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:
			
		

> You mean "Kill him again"? He's already killed Nameless once. Of course with the nuke in his chest if he dies now it's campaign over...




Not necessarily. It'll certainly be "campaign with all sorts of huge changes to the world", but might not be over. Might almost be worth it to see what happens to or is left of Eberron (if anything at all) if that happens. Emphasis on 'might'.




			
				ajanders said:
			
		

> can't see exactly where this is going,




That's okay. Neither can I. I'm mostly just making  up and seeing what the PCs do with it. Which is what I've been doing for a little over 2 years now.



			
				ajanders said:
			
		

> but I get the three big options.
> 
> 1. Somebody is going to try and kill Luna.






			
				GrandArchon said:
			
		

> 1. Or inversly, Luna might kill someone important. On accident, of course.




In all cases involving Luna, bet on her killing someone. Maybe someone important, maybe someone by accident, maybe someone who tries to kill her, but always Luna killing someone. It's a law of nature. 



			
				ajanders said:
			
		

> 2."From Aundair, With Love"






			
				GrandArchon said:
			
		

> 2. I'm tempted to say, in Namelesses case, it would be, 'From Xoriat, With Tentacles'.




Tentacles need/provide loving too, IYKWIMAITYD



			
				ajanders said:
			
		

> 3. Shilsen didn't have stats for a half gnome or half shifter, but figured a shifter and a human produced a human.






			
				GrandArchon said:
			
		

> 3. I'm not sure where I heard (or read) this, but I think that kids are supposed to (in most cases) take after their mother.




Actually, if Luna is involved, a shifter and a human produces one slightly more satisfied shifter. Same for a shifter and an elf, shifter and a mind flayer, shifter and a dragon, etc. Only doesn't apply in the case of a shifter and a gnome.



			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> Oh I hope so. She's always calmer after she's ripped someone limb from limb and gotten to flame strike them. Traumatizing the Hawk only placated her for an hour or two.
> 
> If she got kidnapped, well "Ransom of Red Chief" anyone?






			
				Seekerofskill said:
			
		

> I see a vore story coming soon.




I get the Red Chief reference (O. Henry), but what's a vore?


----------



## GrandArchon

shilsen said:
			
		

> ....what's a vore?




>_<; Vore is... A type of sex act where... One partner canabalizes the other. Swallows them whole, actually. God, I shouldn't even know this....


----------



## ajanders

I find your unlack of knowledge even more disturbing than your lack of faith.


----------



## shilsen

GrandArchon said:
			
		

> >_<; Vore is... A type of sex act where... One partner canabalizes the other. Swallows them whole, actually. God, I shouldn't even know this....



 Ah, I feel wiser now. Especially since that word has so much more applicability in a world where Luna runs off with unsuspecting young nobles. 

Speaking of which...

* * * * * * * * * *

Aurala turns to Haydith and says something which the Angels can’t overhear. The princess frowns slightly and replies, drawing a laugh from the queen, who then leads her on to meet a few more waiting people. While doing so, Haydith transmits over the _link_ to the Angels, “Why did Luna do that? I thought all of you would be staying here.” There is a tinge of irritation to the mental tone.

Darro ir’Lain, having missed the disappearance, looks around and then asks Gareth, “What happened?” Maddox is the one he replies, marked disapproval in his tone, “It seems that Gareth’s friend Luna decided to leave with one of the young men she was talking to. They disappeared, so I presume it was magical transport. Gareth, do you know what she is doing – and why?” Darro, frowning slightly at the information, looks to the paladin for an answer too.

Adal – who did see the couple’s departure, as well as the noble’s signal to Aurala – also looks a little quizzically at Nameless. “It seems your friend found our soiree a little boring. I’m not surprised Kamran did. He’s not known to be very active at courtly gatherings, preferring to spend his time in the country, so I was a little surprised to see him here. His mother, Lady Belissa ir’Kemiria, is the one I was expecting.” Nameless notes the surname, which is that of the second person (a Lady) whom the unknown guard warned the group of.

Lord Murat, whose back was to the disappearing pair, completely misses their departure and continues waiting, looking more and more expectantly at Six, for whatever response the warforged provides. Conversely, the ladies around Korm do notice the disappearance and quickly clutch at the big orc. “Oh my!” says one, “Did one of your friends just disappear with … er, whoever that was? Is there anything going on?” Then, looking down, she quickly adds, “My, you really are muscular!” She looks back up, batting her eyelids in what is presumably meant to be a coquettish manner but simply makes her look like she has sand in her eye, and says archly, “Is everything they say about orcs true?” 

Gareth responds over the link, with obvious irritation but no surprise, “My apologies, Princess – we knew this might happen as Luna is not very good at the social aspects of life. In fact we tried to arrange for her to not be at this event. If need be, I will apologize directly to the queen.” Nameless’ mental voice puts in as well, “Don’t worry, Princess. If there’s any threat to you, Luna will quickly re-appear. She never misses a chance to roast, maim and dismember people.”

Haydith’s reply is accompanied by a mental giggle and has a significantly less irritated tone. “That’s all right. Aurala seems fine with it. I was just curious. Carry on, and hopefully we won’t have any more surprises.”

Gareth nods mentally and then turns to respond to Darro. “Luna is not one for social gatherings; in fact she is not one for anything social. She teleported away with one of the younger nobles. As for what she is doing – well, something I do not approve of.  Do you know who that noble was? If he plays his cards wrong, we may need to contact his next of kin.”

Darro frowns slightly and steps over to a nearby pair of courtiers who were looking in the same direction and are now clearly discussing it. After a quick question and answer, he walks back and says, “I gather it is young Kamran ir’Kemiria she left with. And I presume – and hope – you’re joking about the next of kin. Lady Belissa ir’Kemiria, his mother, likely wouldn’t take well to anything happening to her darling boy.” He grimaces slightly, as if at an irritating or painful memory. “You are joking, are you not?”

Maddox replies dryly, before Gareth does, “Having spent a couple of days with Luna and Gareth, I’m guessing the answer is – no, he’s not joking.”

Gareth pauses to transmit the information about the name over the mental link, and then turns to Darro. “As Maddox has said, I am not joking. Luna is, and no pun intended, a force of nature. If this Kamran behaves to her liking, and that is yet to be determined, then he will be fine – but she is very fickle, quick to anger, and even quicker to strike. She is impulsive, a child ... and unfortunately we are her parents.”

Nameless conveys much the same idea about their resident homicidal shifter to Adal. “Luna finds pretty much anything boring that doesn’t involve chaos, mayhem and _flame strike_s.” Nameless adds dryly, “I sometimes think our greatest contribution to the safety and security of Eberron is that we keep Luna occupied and her destructiveness channeled to constructive purposes. I shudder to think of what she might get up to left to her own devices. We might look back upon events like the Daelkyr invasions as times of comparative stability and safety, by comparison.” Nameless says with a deadpan expression.

The Minister of Magic smiles politely, his expression slightly uncertain, as if he were unsure whether Nameless is actually telling the truth or joking. “But anyway, your idea regarding the adventuring groups is an intriguing one. I presume, since you’re mentioning this to me, that you’re obviously not restricting yourself to Brelish groups. Are you thinking of keeping this a purely private venture or trying to form some kind of larger organization, like a smaller version of the Wayfinders, for example? Maybe gaining some sort of official status or even aspiring to royal patronage, perhaps? After all, you are providing security for one of the heirs to the throne of Karrnath, whose safety is a significant concern of the Brelish court, and are hobnobbing with the ruler and heirs to Aundair tonight. I’m sure someone of your intellect has noted the potential options you have here.”

“It does occur to me that each of the Five Nations has its own specialties that could work well in combination,” replies Nameless. “If it were a transnational organization, it might well provide some useful back channels of communication. As well as hopefully forming friendships that would help to mitigate tensions between the countries.”

Adal thinks silently for a few moments. “That would take some doing, but it might be a worthwhile possibility. Since you are on such a short trip through Fairhaven this time, I doubt much can be done to that end, but I’ll keep the possibility in mind and think about it. I believe Haydith may stop here again on the way back to Breland, which will give us a chance to speak on this matter again, and I shall have time to see what I can arrange in the meanwhile. Do you think you shall be making any arrangements to this end while in Karrnath?”

“I will do what I can. I think this is something I will have to devote some attention to. Gareth is a people person, which I am ... not, and will probably thrive on this sort of task. I should probably have started organizing something before this, but unfortunately, it is very easy to be diverted by the press of people who want something from us. I’m sure you are familiar with this, given the position you hold.”

Adal grimaces slightly and says, “Yes. One of the negatives that comes with access to great power, whether political, arcane or otherwise.” 

Switching topics suddenly, the alienist asks, “Can you tell me anything about people or groups that might be opposed to the ir’Kemiria’s or Lord Murat? Do they have any particular agendas that people might be opposing? Their names have come to our attention in some peculiar circumstances. Of course there is little that comes to our attention in a straightforward manner and nearly everyone we encounter has some sort of agenda when they talk to us.”

“The ir’Kemiria’s and Murat?” This time, there is no concealing Adal’s confusion. “Well, that’s Murat talking to your warforged friend there. As for enemies or opposition, it’s safe to say anyone in this strata of the nobility will have some, as I’m sure you know. Murat less than most, I’d say, since his interests are a little unusual. He fancies himself a social reformer and is, unless I miss my guess, chewing your friend’s ear about the so-called warforged situation. Kamran ir’Kemiria has not much of a presence at court, and while his mother was, she has been less so for a while too. Coincidentally, considering what we were discussing earlier, Lady Belissa actually studied at Arcanix for a long while. But tell me, how exactly did they come to your attention?” 

“Someone spoke telepathically to me and the rest of my group, warning us about them. Someone with access to unusual magic, possibly a psionicist of some sort, perhaps even an outsider of some kind. With all the creatures and entities who have spied on us, I do so look forward to being able to master _mind blank_.”

Adal’s frown barely falls short of a scowl, and he glances around the room, as if in search of lurking psionic outsiders, before smoothening his expression. Looking back to Nameless, he says, “Follow me, please.” Adal turns and makes his way through the crowd, exchanging the odd couple of words and odd social comment, until he reaches a small curtained side door, with Nameless following a few paces behind. 

Across the room, a mildly concerned looking Darro is asking Gareth, “So there is a real likelihood that your companion may hurt Kamran? If so, then we might have a serious proble…,” when the paladin notices Nameless proceeding out of the chamber after Adal. Six and Korm, each with significant reasons to focus on things other than those speaking to them, notice Nameless’ departure too. Gareth messages over the link, “Nameless, is everything okay? Where are you being taken to? Do you need backup?”

Nameless responds, “I’m fine. The gentleman I’m talking to had some private questions. I’ll let you know if anything alarming happens.” The reply draws the attention of Haydith, who hadn’t originally seen Nameless leaving. She comments, with a mentally audible sigh, “You people are some of the strangest protectors a princess could have. Try not to get in trouble,” before giving her attention back to the conversation she’s engaged in.

Adal passes through the doorway, walks past the one guard beyond and halfway down the corridor he is guarding, and then says without preamble, “Where did you get this message? Do you have any more of an idea how it was transmitted or by whom? If someone is sending telepathic messages to the princess of Karrnath’s escorts, I need to find out who or what. And why the ir’Kemirias or Murat are mentioned. Anything you can tell me in this regard would be helpful.” Adal’s voice is significantly clipped now, lacking the casual bonhomie that it had moments ago. He pauses to look at Nameless speculatively, and then adds, “Or any magical aid too, if you can. If you’re in a position to look forward to casting _mind blank_, you evidently have resources just as powerful as rumor has it – and maybe more.”

Nameless shakes his head. “I doubt this person is a threat or even here any more. They probably want to use my group to some end, at some point in the future. We’ve had similar events happen to us in the past and the knives lie in the future, not in the present. It is also possible that this was set up to disrupt this event for some reason. So I would urge you to take no hasty actions.” He then proceeds to detail the circumstances of the incident. Adal listens silently, adding only a question or two, his eyes hooded in thought.

Having completed the narration, the alienist opines, “The way that they quite openly sent the message to us indicates to me that they are prepared to defeat or evade any spells we might use and that includes _true seeing_. Whatever they are, they clearly know who we are and thus are almost certainly conversant with our capabilities, and would likely not have done this if they weren’t confident that they could evade any efforts on our part and those of the guards. If I thought otherwise I would have acted already, regardless of the diplomatic flap it might cause. Should you wish it, I can activate the _true seeing_ I have prepared, but I would appreciate it if you’d notify the guards – and especially any Medani or other dragonmarked security – that I’ve done so. I would like to keep things discreet. However, I have a permanent _arcane sight_ and I have detected no suspicious illusion or transmutation auras since receiving the message.”

Adal nods slowly and says, “I’ve got no intention of raising an alarm without more justification, but I do want to investigate this further. Thank you for all the information. I think it’s best if you return to the party. I’ll inform a couple of reliable people to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. Please do so too, and if you see anything, do nothing but simply let me know. Unless you think there’s the danger of violence, in which case I’ll leave things to your discretion.” He smiles thinly. “I hope it won’t come to that. Thank you again.” Adal gestures to indicate that Nameless should return the way they came out, turns and heads down the corridor.

Nameless returns to the party, which winds down gradually. Six manages to refrain from punching the highly irritating Lord Murat, who seems convinced that the big warforged should use his fame and position to campaign for warforged emancipation and equal rights – with Murat’s aid, of course. Korm manages a slightly less complex task, namely to protect his virtue from the assault of the two middle-aged baronesses. About an hour after Luna disappeared, when Haydith and Aurala bid goodbye to each other. The princess and her entourage head back to their quarters. After all, there is a busy day tomorrow before Haydith makes her departure. 

As they head back, Gareth falls in line behind Haydith, whispering to her, “I hope you enjoyed your evening. Is there anything else you would like to do before we head back to your quarters?”

Haydith glances sideways at Gareth and whispers back, a hint of mischief in her voice, “I can think of a couple of things, but then we’d have to lose the rest of your friends and all of my escort, which might draw a little attention. Talk to me about it when we get to Korth.” She giggles softly and then looks away.

Arriving back at their rooms, the Angels begin to make preparations for the night. A little worryingly, there’s still no sign of Luna. On the positive side, nobody has returned screaming, bleeding, or on fire, to report on her whereabouts.

* * *
Outside the ballroom, Luna and her date appear midway down a large hall, startling a pair of lounging guards and the serving maid chatting with them. As the latter gives a startled “Eep!” and flees, the guards quickly drop hands to weapons, before recognizing Luna’s companion. He waves dismissively at them, while saying to her, “Now that was brilliant! My carriage is down this way.” 

Less than ten minutes later, the two are pulling away from the royal palace inside a very comfortable carriage. “And here we are,” says Luna’s escort with a bright smile, as he sinks back on the cushions beside her, before sitting up and adding, “But I have the advantage of you, since you do not know my name and I do yours. I am Kamran ir’Kemiria.” He bows and takes her hand, delicately placing a kiss on its back. 

Straightening up, Kamran says, “Excuse me,” and leans over Luna, pressing close to her as he reaches for a spot on the side of the coach. Moving a well-hidden catch in the ornate paneling, he opens a cubbyhole to reveal three bottles, four glasses and a closed velvet box. Extracting two glasses, a bottle and the box, he places the latter on Luna’s lap and sits back to ask, “Wine?” Before she answers, he indicates the box. “Chocolate.”

_Ir’Kemiria?_ Luna has a fine memory when it involves warnings or threats – or candy. She concentrates, tapping into her shifter heritage, and her nostrils elongate and the hairs on and around them extend. Luna sniffs carefully at the chocolates and the wine and, detecting nothing suspicious, accepts them both. Kamran watches curiously, with the odd combination of a slightly furrowed brow and an amused smile, and asks, “Something wrong?”

“No,” says Luna, having taken a swig of the wine and followed it with a couple of chocolates at once, remembering that the flattery she had been receiving, however gratifying, was in the end, clearly insincere, “While I can understand why anyone would have the need to escape such a tedious and drawn out affair, and while it was great fun to vanish in the middle of it and break up the tedium a bit, could there be a reason for your interest in ... ‘quality time,’ shall we say ... alone with me? I mean other than any great undeniable physical attraction, which no one could in any way blame you for having.”  She winks and smiles. “Oh, and nice choice of wine and candy.”

Kamran smiles back and lifts his glass. “Very perceptive, Luna. I’ll freely admit that I had hoped to have a chance to spend some quality time with one of the Guardian Angels. People of your abilities, and fame, are in short supply. Didn’t you see how those at the party flocked around you and your friends? And these are the rulers and peers of the realm of Aundair!” He takes a sip of his wine and continues, “And speaking of undeniable physical attraction, once I saw all of you there really was no way I could focus on anyone else, of course. I may lack many abilities, but I do have good taste.” 

Kamran looks silently at Luna for a few seconds and then leans in. “But, if I’m not mistaken, you and I have a little bargain to fulfill. You mentioned something about interesting scars. I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.” He smiles and leans in further…

_Not so quick!_ Luna turns slightly to look into the box of candy and quickly pops another one into her mouth, before turning to Kamran with a large chocolate-stained grin. “Scars, you said?” She leans back – and slightly away from her companion – and pulls back her sleeve to the shoulder. “See?”

As Luna turns her arm to catch the light of the magical lamp in the carriage’s corner, the series of razor-thin white scars left behind by Mordain’s modifications gleam very slightly. They are especially strong around her wrist. Luna taps that area and says, “Let me tell you what this came from.” She then proceeds to tell Kamran about her symbiotes. The young noble begins by looking slightly disappointed at her pulling away, then intrigued at the sight of the scars, and quickly runs through confusion, mild disgust and great fascination over the course of her story. He interrupts with a number of questions, and by the time she is well into her story, is leaning back comfortably and chatting with her, with absolutely no signs of his initial disappointment at her dodging of his physical advances. Luna keeps her story focused on the symbiotes in particular and touches on Yarkuun Draal, but goes into no other details about the group’s adventures, despite a couple of probing questions from Kamran. As the conversation continues, Luna finds that the apparently garrulous noble can be quite a good listener too.

About twenty minutes after they left the palace, the carriage begins to slow. Kamran pauses and looks out a window. “Aaah! Here we are.” He indicates the large manor building the carriage is entering. “This is my home, though I generally prefer to spend time in the country.” The carriage soon comes to a stop and Kamran steps out, extending a hand for Luna to follow. 

When she does, Luna finds a couple of attendants waiting for them. Kamran asks, “Would you care for some dinner? I know they had food at the palace, but what with everyone walking around and trying to kiss as much ass as needed, I doubt much eating got done.” He grins and adds, “Or should we get straight to dessert?”

Luna stretches as she emerges. “Well, after being enclosed for so long just now, I don't think I would like to go and sit anywhere. We can stroll a bit if you like.” She looks around, noting the size of the building and the apparently extensive grounds extending into the darkness beyond. “Now,” she continues, “I have told you a fascinating story, and now, it is your turn. While I was curious to know why you wanted to engage me privately, and you do have excellent candy, I must caution you that I am not a woman of great patience. Nor am I one for these subtle intrigues that your courtly friends seem intent to mire themselves in. I am tired of the farce. So I ask you to speak plainly and to speak now.”

Kamran looks mildly surprised and just a trifle disappointed again. He turns to the two waiting attendants and says, “You can go. We’ll be in … when we’re in.” The attendants depart, as has the carriage, leaving the noble and the druid alone in front of the house, though a couple of guards are visible at the gate. “Come,” says Kamran, indicating one of a pair of ornate benches a little distance away, which stand beside a decorative fishpond, “Let’s sit and speak plainly, as you put it.”

Once the two have walked over and seated themselves, Kamran cocks his head and studies Luna for a moment, and then says, “You are an unusual woman, very different to the ones I normally find myself around. And no, that’s not flattery or anything else. Just the plain truth, since that’s what you asked for. To be completely and utterly honest, I did go to the dinner with the intent of meeting and getting at least one of the Angels to come here. My mother, Lady Belissa, asked me if I would do so, since she wished to speak to one or more of you. And before you ask, no – I don’t know why.” He grins. “Being a mama’s boy, I agreed to do so, but not being as good as she might like, I made a minor change. She had wanted me to arrange for one of you to come here tomorrow morning, since she is out currently, but while speaking to you, I thought it might be nice if we took off. That way, we could … entertain each other here rather than putting up with a loud and boring party full of people trying the courtly intrigues you mentioned, and my mother could speak to you tomorrow as she wanted, if you don’t mind.” 

Kamran pauses, clearly considering something, takes a deep breath, and says, “I’ll continue to be completely honest and speak plainly, and I hope you won’t be upset, since you did ask me to be. I like athletic women and those who speak their minds. I’ve also, like most, heard a lot about the Angels. Having met you, I thought it would probably be very interesting to spend the night with you, and the fact that you will leave tomorrow and neither of us will see each other in the immediate future is probably a bonus for both of us.” He takes another deep breath and says, “I do think you’re fascinating and I’d love it if you would stay here with me. That’s the plain truth. But if I’ve offended you, I’ll have you dropped back to the palace. Hopefully, you’ll still be willing to meet my mother and speak to her tomorrow, but if not, that’s okay too. So, what do you say?”

Luna quickly considers the proposition(s) and then replies, “Unfortunately, I don’t think I can be gone all night without disturbing the rest of the other members of my party, but I can return to the palace and ask if they would like to return in the morning – though I think they would probably want to know why. I'm sure if they agree to do so, they’ll send Gareth – our mouthpiece. I’m not much for these sorts of meetings and we are already running errands for as much royalty as we can handle.” _Definitely as much as I can handle! We’ve got royalty coming out of our collective arses here!_ 

Before Kamran can say something, she adds, with a mischievous grin and a very bright sparkle in her eye, “But I don’t have to return immediately, since that boring party’s still going to last a while. You said your mother’s away, right? I’d very much like to test your mother’s bed – and see if it is properly broken in. If it’s not, perhaps we can assist?”

Kamran’s face quickly runs through the various stages – and a combination – of surprise, mild shock, delight and amusement. He guffaws and says, “That, if I may repeat myself, sounds a scrumptious idea! And the rest of your ideas sound excellent too.” He rises and extends a hand with a mock-bow. “Milady, your boudoir awaits!”

Luna rises, grinning, and says, “Thank you kindly, gentle sir,” and links her arm through his. As they walk towards the manor building, she says, “Now here’s something I didn’t mention to you, which I think you should know, since it may affect my friends’ reaction to you and your mother.” She then proceeds to tell him about the telepathic warning from the unknown soldier. “So,” the druid concludes, “That’s the reason your name triggered a slightly more careful response from me than normal.”

Kamran listens carefully, with a slightly confused expression, and then finally shakes his head. “I really have no idea what that might be about. Naturally, a lot of people at court have magical abilities, but who could be warning you about me – or my mother – and Murat, whom we barely know from Galifar, is beyond me. My mother might have some ideas, since she’s got some skill in the arcane arts. Not me.” He grins. “I’m a lover, not a sorcerer.”

. . . 

A little over an hour later, Kamran is also naked, soaked in sweat, presumably very sore, and snoring gently, with a very contented expression on his face. Luna, just as naked and only slightly less sweaty, stretches languorously beside him, a contented expression on her face, and looks down almost fondly at him. _Not that much stamina, but at least he had some skills. And that was a damn sight more fun than the stupid party!_ She grins, as she thinks of what the others must be going through, and then rises. Stretching again, the druid looks around the chamber. _A little investigation is in order. I might find something interesting._

The bedroom that Kamran and she are in is a large and spacious one, which can be divided into two by a large pair of curtains, with the bed and a dressing area on one side and a comfortable sitting area on the other. The sitting area also includes a large desk. Shelves on either side of the curtains hold a very eclectic collection of books, ranging from lurid romances (“Kiss of the Changeling”) to political satire (Kessler’s “The Five Ducks”) to historical studies (“Last Days of the Great War”) to esoteric magical texts (“Bakua’s Manual of the Planes”).

After padding around the chamber carefully and examining it magically and otherwise, Luna finds a few things. Two of the drawers on the desk are unlocked and contain writing paraphernalia, some files with business and other papers, etc. Two other drawers are locked, both with minor abjuration auras on them. One contains something within that also has an abjuration aura and a few other minor auras. There is also a spot behind a bookshelf near the bed where there are minor abjuration and illusion auras, but Luna can’t work out how to get to it without moving the entire bookshelf. The dressing table too has a couple of locked drawers but some others are open, containing cosmetics and a small collection of tasteful jewelry, with a couple of fairly costly pieces (if not by the current standards of the Angels). There are two locked closets, one on either side of the dressing table.

Luna considers for a few seconds whether to try breaking into any of the locked areas or even to pick up some of the more attractive jewelry. A soft snore from Kamran interrupts her, and she glances back at the bed. _Hmm – I could smack him over the head, and he’d probably wake up with nothing more than a little hangover and none the wiser._ But, after a second’s thought, she gives up the idea. After all, Kamran seems to have been honest and has definitely provided an interesting diversion for the last couple of hours. _Plus_, Luna thinks with a grin, _I think I already left him one new scar already._

With a last look around the room, Luna collects and dons her clothes, transforms into a large bird and takes to the air, heading out of a window and back towards the royal palace.


----------



## carborundum

Great stuff!

I've got this great feeling that it's all about to kick off, though!


----------



## ajanders

shilsen said:
			
		

> Gareth pauses to transmit the information about the name over the mental link, and then turns to Darro. “As Maddox has said, I am not joking. Luna is, and no pun intended, a force of nature. If this Kamran behaves to her liking, and that is yet to be determined, then he will be fine – but she is very fickle, quick to anger, and even quicker to strike. She is impulsive, a child ... and unfortunately we are her parents.”




This party can do so much commiseration with Beautiful Beard. He feels the same way, except he's a single parent with a party of children.


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> Great stuff!
> 
> I've got this great feeling that it's all about to kick off, though!



 Thanks. And we shall have to see. Luckily, with this group of PCs, I live on the edge of "about to kick off" a lot 

To vary things a bit, for the forthcoming update I may jump forward to the next part of the airship voyage after Aundair.



			
				ajanders said:
			
		

> This party can do so much commiseration with Beautiful Beard. He feels the same way, except he's a single parent with a party of children.




Bah, humbug! Kids, like Luna, tend to be completely unpredictable, or at least highly so. Which is admittedly true for Audhild. But Cedric is utterly predictable, if not in a way Beard would like him to be. Quellen is fairly consistent too. And Davmorn is a little nuts, but he's reliable nuts too. And you're the one who gets us into a lot of scrapes anyway, like when we have to save your ass from an ogre mage assassin while running around in a house dealing with the lord of the Wild Hunt, the troll that ate the Billy Goats Gruff, Richard the dog-headed Lionheart, a cross-dressing French ogre murderess, etc. All for you, man - all for you!

To add a little context for other readers, Beautiful Beard is ajanders' dwarven warblade PC in a group where I run Cedric (a version of the character in my World's Worst Paladin thread in my sig). Audhild is our elven druid, who is strangely alike Luna in being homicidal and pyromaniac. Quellen is the elven ranger/rogue turned assassin. And Davmorn is a binder with a habit of killing gobs of people by whirlwind attacking them with a mug while lying on the ground (long story).

And Beard is slightly ... um ... persecuted by the others, hence the self-pity. It's all a pose anyway. He loves Cedric with a love that dare not speak its name. Or something like that.


----------



## Vorput

I thought you'd all be happy to know that in an upcoming Eberron game starting in 2-ish weeks, inspired by this story hour- I'll be playing a gnome.


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> I thought you'd all be happy to know that in an upcoming Eberron game starting in 2-ish weeks, inspired by this story hour- I'll be playing a gnome.



 Excellent! You're going to be playing a beguiler, aren't you? After all, every gnome, even at its mother's knee, already has levels in beguiler 

And in further celebration of your impending gnomishness, here's the next instalment. As mentioned earlier, I'm jumping forward to the _Serenity_'s departure from Aundair.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Angels stand near the rear of the _Serenity_, watching the walls and towers of Fairhaven retreat slowly behind them, their glow turning from silver to gold in the light of the westering sun. “Well, that wasn’t too bad,” says Korm.

“Yes,” agrees Nameless dryly. “We came out of there alive, haven’t added too many enemies that I know of, and Luna didn’t kill anyone – also, that I know of. I can’t remember the last trip we had of the kind.”

“That’s all right,” says Korm, with equal pessimism and cheerfulness. “We’ve got more than enough time for people to kill us before we finish the trip.”

* * * * *
His statement comes back to Korm as his eyes nap open to the sound of a dull pounding sound and screams, coming from somewhere below him, muffled by distance and the snoring of Luna in her bear form a few feet away. It is nearly a day and a half since they left Fairhaven and early at night on the 21st, less than a full day before the _Serenity_ is to reach Korth.

Grabbing his weapons and rushing out of the door, Korm is met by Nameless emerging hurriedly from his chamber. They both hurry past the two surprised looking guards standing before the door leading to the antechamber outside Haydith’s and the two diplomats’ chambers, and into the princess’ room. “Something’s going on below decks,” says Nameless. “We’ll investigate and be right back.”

Rising hurriedly, Gareth begins to cast a number of spells, but the alienist stops him. “Don’t get hasty. This might be a ploy to use up our resources. But I can spare a little just to be safe.” He casts one of his most powerful conjurations, causing a winged angel with a hawklike face to appear. The angel glances around and then turns a keen gaze on Nameless. “Your command?” Nameless indicates Haydith. “Guard her from any harm.” As he turns and head out the door, he pauses to jerk a thumb at Gareth, “And don’t listen to him.”  

The paladin’s aggrieved, “Hey!” follows Nameless and Korm as they emerge and hurry in the opposite direction, towards the ladders leading up and down. As they reach them and head downwards, Six appears, descending from the main deck above. 

The three Angels descend quickly towards the main hold, and meet the sources of the screams, two terrified and fleeing crewmen. Korm grabs one and shakes him. “Snap out of it! What happened?” 

The man gasps, “In the hold! We heard a noise and went in and….” His compatriot interrupts hurriedly, “The monsters! They killed Kayni!” The continuing pounding sounds from behind them, now significantly louder and accompanied by that of smashing wood, indicate the source of their fear.

“Get upstairs and warn the crew!” snaps Korm, before heading towards the hold, followed closely by Nameless. Six pauses to call on the new powers of the harness and the black tendrils of shadow cover him and his chain. The two already scared crewmen take one look at the process and run for the exit.

Meanwhile, bursting into the hold, Korm immediately locates the monsters they mentioned. Standing a good ten feet tall, roughly humanoid in shape, with craggy arms ending in bludgeon-like globes of stone, three earth elementals stare back at Korm for a moment. Smashed and broken crates stand around them, amidst which lies the battered body of the unfortunate Kayni. Two have been pounding on the hull of the airship, and a spiderweb of thick cracks shows that some more damage might actually have breached it.

With an inarticulate warcry, the Gatekeeper rushes in, swinging a blow that puts a deep crack into one of the elementals’ torsos, though the creature’s rocky exterior is less pervious than a fleshy target would be. Immediately, the three swarm over him, mighty fists swinging. Despite his plethora of magical protections, they hurt when they hit, and with six fists smashing at him, Korm can’t avoid taking multiple painful blows.  

“You might want to consider dodging a bit,” suggests Nameless, as his _magic missile_s blast holes in the stony lump that passes for one elemental’s head.  Korm snarls back, “You think? I had no idea that might be an option!” and uses the anger to drive his blade right through the elemental’s weakened head. There is a dull rumble as the creature’s body crumbles, followed by a soft hiss of air as the falling debris whiffs out of existence.

“Summoned,” comments Nameless, as he hurls another spell. “I thought so, since they have an aura of conjuration around them.”

Korm has no time to ponder this revelation, as a stony fist hammers into his side, cracking ribs, while another glances off his parrying blade and scrapes his forehead. “Dammit, Six!” he calls, hurriedly casting a healing spell before striking back, “Get your metal ass in here!”

In response, a dark and shadowy form dives through the doorway, spiked chain – now bathed in black flames – lashing out to slash and scorch chunks from one of the remaining elementals. With Six joining in, the three Angels quickly dispatch the remaining elementals, each of which disappears like the first. 

Korm, breathing heavily and bleeding, looks around and asks, “All right. So where did they come from? Those were big, so someone using a _Summon Nature’s Ally_ would need a version of the fifth power for each, or have to get lucky with one of the sixth power.” As he begins to heal himself, Nameless rises into the air and begins to scan the area, while Six moves over to check the damage to the hull. “They almost broke through,” he comments.

“An airship can fly perfectly even with its hull breached,” says Nameless, “But I don’t want to have to test that quali… hold on – I found something.” He indicates an area to the side and flies down. “I don’t see anyth…,” begins Korm, and then his eyes catch the glint of reflected light from the hold’s _everburning torches_ in something on the ground. Nameless carefully picks it up with his fingertips and brings it over, to show the others multiple pieces of some shattered crystalline object. “Elemental gems,” the alienist says with certainty. “Three. That’s how they summoned the elementals.”

“So it’s probably not a spellcaster, or not a powerful one hopefully,” says Korm. “Six, can you find any tracks?”

“No,” says Six, who is already scanning the area around the spot where the gems lay. “None at all.”

“We need to get Luna here and see if she can sniff something out,” says Nameless. “Speaking of which, how come she isn’t here?” Korm shrugs. “No idea. She was still snoring when I ran out the door, which is a little unusual, since she can normally hear a fly take a crap a hundred feet away. She seems to be sleeping a lot more heavily recently.”

“I wonder if it has anything to do with that pregnancy that Mordain mentioned,” says Nameless, and then looks quizzically at Korm and Six. “I never did get around to asking what she found out from the Jorasco healer-cum-midwife she went to.”

“Umm…,” Korm hesitates, and then slowly says, “Luna said that, as far as the Jorasco woman could tell, she’s not pregnant.”

“Really? I should speak to her about it. Somehow I doubt Mordain was pulling our legs. I wonder if she was told anything else that might be worth investigating.”

Korm and Six exchange glances. If Nameless speaks to Luna, the rest of the hitherto unmentioned details about the visit will emerge. Probably in way more graphic detail than if they cover it themselves. After a few seconds, Korm sighs and says, “There’s a bit more we didn’t mention.”

“And…?”

“Six and I went with her … and got … examined too. We’re not pregnant either.”

When Maddox and four Karrnathi guards rush into the hold a few seconds later, they’re more than a little surprised to find the normally forbidding alienist laughing so hard that he has to hold onto a crate to stay upright.

* * *
Once Nameless has recovered, they head back to the princess’ cabin. Entering the antechamber, the group is joined by Gustavus and Theda, who emerge, both red-faced and breathing a little heavily, from the former’s room. The Angels, after a couple of surprised glances, simply ask them to follow to Haydith’s chamber. There, they inform the princess and Gareth – who had been warned of a commotion by Maddox as he led his men downstairs – what had happened and say that they should stay together in her room while they perform a search of the ship. Then Luna, still snoring blissfully, is woken up and taken to the hold.

After sniffing around in the form of a singularly obese bloodhound, Luna says, via her magical tongue, “No scent besides all of you and the three crewmen. Nobody else has been here in hours, or at least nobody that I can make out.”

“Magic?” asks Six. Nameless shakes his head. “I’d have at least picked up a lingering aura, if it’s a spell strong enough to mask any tracking. My money’s on undead.”

“It is possible,” says Maddox grimly. “The more well-preserved of undead leave no scent.”

“All right, then,” says Nameless. “Let’s assume we have at least one undead on board. We’re going to have to cover this entire ship. This’ll take a while.”

Over the course of the next hour, the Angels, accompanied by Maddox and a couple of guards, move in a group over the entire ship, scanning for magic, talking to crew-members, guards and everyone else on board, and looking for signs of anything suspicious. The search is completely abortive, doing little more than tiring and irritating most of those involved.

“Well, that didn’t do much,” complains Luna, as the group proceeds back towards the Angels’ sleeping quarters and the princess’ chamber. “I wasn’t really expecting it to,” admits Nameless, “But it doesn’t hurt to try. Of course, the chances are the aim of the attack was to distra….” He never finishes the sentence, as the sound of multiple muffled screams and shouts breaks out behind them, towards the front of the ship. In unison, the group turns and rushes back the way they came.

A few seconds of hurried running serves to narrow the source of the continuing shouting to the area where the Karrnathi guardsmen are quartered. Rushing into the hallway which their rooms open onto, the Angels see all of the doors open, with the sounds of fighting coming from one of the rooms. 

Six and Korm reach the doorway first, to find a chaotic melee in progress in the large bunkroom beyond. Half a dozen half-clad Karrnathi warriors are engaged with four shadowy figures that flit around among them. The roughly humanoid forms flow back and forth silently, their incorporeal nature making them immune to most of the blows leveled at them, while their shadowy claws reach easily into their targets. Most of the Karrnathis are pale and stagger more and more weakly with each hit, and two already lie dead. 

Six and Korm focus on a single shadow, their magical weapons quickly ripping it to shreds, even though half their blows fail to connect. Some of the guards do have magical weapons, it seems, since another shadow falls apart. But even as the two undead are now truly slain, a third guard falls, drained and dead, to the floor. And more worryingly, the two corpses already on the ground fall in on themselves, transforming in instants from flesh to darkness, until two more shadows rise in their stead. The four shadows, with strange coordination, fly towards the walls or begin to sink into the floor.

“Stop them!” shouts Nameless from the doorway, as Luna squeezes her way through. “If they get away, they can go anywhere on the ship!”

“Done!” says Maddox, shouldering his way past the alienist. The bone knight’s gauntleted hand holds aloft the holy symbol of the Blood of Vol, and as he calls on his strange powers a flash of gray light envelops the room. Everyone around him feels a momentary chill, and the shadows halt instantly, half-buried in the wooden partitions of the ship. “You cannot escape!” says Maddox firmly, and then snaps to his allies, “All right. Destroy them!”

Korm, Six and Luna quickly comply, the helpless shadows falling apart in seconds, a couple of them actually being forced by Maddox to emerge from the woodwork and make themselves into easier targets.

“Good work, Maddox,” says Nameless. The bone knight simply nods and then says, “Watch him,” indicating the lone corpse. The Angels prepare themselves, and the emerging shadow has barely a second of unlife before it is destroyed. 

Maddox immediately turns to the Karrnathi soldiers and begins to question them. They explain that they, being among the off-duty contingent, had been about to turn in or had already done so when five shadows emerged through the floor and began to attack. Some of them, from the room across the corridor, had heard the commotion and rushed in to try and help, and they had slain one before the Angels arrived. Maddox commands them to remain armed and armored for the time being and then heads outside with the Angels.  

“These undead couldn’t have been the ones who used the _elemental gems_, right?” asks Korm, as they head back towards their rooms once more.

“No,” says Maddox. “They’re incorporeal.”

“And they weren’t summoned,” says Nameless. “No magical auras. Which means that they were already on this ship.” 

“And we have someone else who brought the elementals. This gets better and better,” says Six. “I wonder what’s next.”

The answer comes quickly, as they reach the princess’ cabin, which now has some extra guards, all looking extremely tense, around it. The senior-most one turns and hurriedly salutes Maddox. “There’s been a murder, sir. Lord Gustavus Thul has been killed.”

* * *
“Two of the guards came to warn us that there was more fighting going on toward the front of the ship,” explains Gareth, in the now quite crowded area of the princess’ chambers, “And Haydith told them to ask both Theda and Gustavus, who had returned to their rooms, to join us. The guards found him dead.” Haydith, sitting beside Gareth and looking composed, if very pale, nods silently. So does Theda, sitting nearby and looking relatively calm.

“All right,” says Nameless. “Everyone stay here. We’ll check the scene.” 

Leaving Gareth to keep an eye on Haydith, the others proceed into Gustavus’ room. It looks much as it did when they saw it last – except for the corpse. Lord Gustavus Thel looks shrunken and undignified in death, sprawled awkwardly on his side next to the tipped over chair from his desk, drying blood pooled around him from the ebony-handled dagger buried in the back of his neck. 

“Looks like he was about to write something,” says Six, pointing at the fallen pen whose ink has smeared a sheet of paper on the table. “And he saw the murderer come in, if he came in the door, since the desk faces that way.”

“Unless he _dimension door_ed in, came in invisibly or something else,” says Nameless. “Definitely not one of those shadows, however. If it was an undead, then it’s one who uses weapons.”

“Not undead,” says Luna in a tinny voice due to her tongue, as she looks up from carefully sniffing the area. “Theda’s scent is all over the dagger.”

“You sure?” asks Korm. “We did see her come out of the room with him earlier, and I thought they might have been getting a little frisky. Sure looked all excited.”

“I’m damn sure. Her scent’s in the room too, but it’s definitely on the dagger. Only hers.”

“Okay, we’ll go talk to her. But first let’s finish checking this room and then hers.” The Angels do so, searching both thoroughly. They find nothing that is really incriminating, but do collect all the documents, diplomatic and otherwise, before returning to the princess. There, they ask Gareth to accompany them outside for a moment, where they quickly explain what they found.

Returning to the chamber, Nameless says, “We have a few things to say, but first – remove that ring and give it to me.” He indicates the one on Theda’s finger, which he knows is one of _mind shielding_. _I’m beginning to think every politician – and gnome – on this continent has one of these damn rings!_

“What? I don’t understand! Are you accus…,” Theda begins indignantly, when cut off by Gareth. “Please, princess, would you command her to do so?”

Haydith looks quizzically at Gareth, but then nods her head. “Theda. Please comply with what Gar… they say.” The diplomat takes a deep breath and mutters, “As your Highness commands,” and does so. 

“Thank you,” says Nameless, taking the ring. He nods slightly at Gareth, who has wandered over to a position behind Theda, and the paladin’s eyes begin to gleam with silver light as he attempts to _detect thoughts_ on her. “Let’s start with a simple question,” says the alienist. “Why did you kill Gustavus?”

Gareth’s ability, now heightened by Mordain’s modifications, easily finds its way through Theda’s not inconsiderable mental defenses, and he finds himself faced with the roiling mass of confusion that are her surface thoughts. Emotions of fear and anger overlay all the others, and for a moment Gareth expects that he will be able to work out very quickly what she is thinking. Then, to his surprise, he finds that she is holding her thoughts under iron control, almost as if she were afraid to verbalize to even herself what she is currently thinking. Even the most rigid of self-control, however, cannot prevent her from thinking of an answer to a question, and the words, _“They know!”_ leap to the surface of her mind. Followed instantly by, _“Because he was a fool and a traitor!”_

Aloud, Theda says, “What? Are you insane?” before whirling to face Haydith. “Princess! You cannot believe them!” From behind her, Gareth nods at Nameless and then says to the princess, “She is lying.” Haydith looks curiously at his gleaming eyes, and he explains, “I can see her thoughts right now. She did it.” Luna growls from her position nearby, “And her scent is all over the weapon.”

Theda pales but continues to protest. Haydith looks uncertain for a few seconds, looking almost helplessly back and forth between her and Gareth, but then her expression firms. “I am sorry, Theda. You have been a loyal and valued servant to Karrnath, but I believe them. Gareth and the others have no reason to lie.” She pauses, and then adds, with a touch of steel in her voice, “Tell the truth and it will be the better for you.”

“Listen to your princess,” says Gareth, as persuasively as he can. “Tell us why you killed Gustavus. And who you are working for, how you brought the undead on board, and who your allies on board are.”

“The undead?” Theda stares at her interrogator’s glowing eyes and then back to Haydith. “I had nothing to do with that. I promise you, princess, I would never do anything to harm you or the royal family. I … I … did kill Gustavus, under cover of the commotion outside, but it was with no intention to harm you. It was for the sake of Karrnath. You must believe me!”

“”She’s telling the truth,” adds Gareth. “Or at least, believes she is, for what it’s worth.”

Maddox, who has been studying Theda silently with a forbidding expression since the Angels revealed her guilt, says, “Many people think they are acting for the good of Karrnath. Not all are correct.”

Nameless says, “Perhaps you are telling the truth about not being in cahoots with our attackers. But that still leaves the question of why you killed Gustavus. Why did you?” Gareth, continuing to read Theda’s mind, picks up the thought, _“Because he would have revealed …no, I must not even think it!” _ The diplomat clamps down on her own thoughts with a terrific mental effort, which only Gareth is in a position to appreciate, and turns to Haydith with sweat beading her brow. She bites her lip for a moment and then falls at the princess’s feet, clasping her around the knee.

Or, more precisely, attempts to. A couple of blades flash out to block her path and Korm’s huge fist meets her chin even as a spiked chain flashes around her ankle and deposits her on the ground, a second before a huge paw lands on her shoulders. As Theda screams, Luna asks conversationally, “Should I rip her head off?” For a moment, the near certainty of death flares in Theda’s mind, and Gareth notes that the emotion of great fear that accompanies it is strangely laced with a slight sense of relief. 

“Princess!” babbles the woman on the floor, her face already purpling, “I simply meant to fall at your feet! Please – do not let them question me further. I beg you – leave it to your brother. What I have done I have done for Karrnath! Let the king judge me. You know he is not kind or gentle to those he thinks have transgressed, but he should be the one to condemn me, if any. These strangers must not know or ask why I killed Gustavus. Please! As you said, I have given my life to Karrnath! Believe me, I would n….” The speech breaks off into a pained gasp as Luna applies a little pressure. “Bored now!” says the druid. “So – can I?” 

Haydith remains silent for a few seconds, and then rises to her feet. “Let her rise.”

“Oh, come on! Sh…,” begins Luna, before the princess says, this time in a tone of command belying her years, “Do it! She is still a servant of the Crown.” Luna wrinkles her snout in irritation and removes her paw. Theda only rises to her knees and then carefully extends a trembling hand to touch Haydith’s leg. “Thank you, princess! This is more important than you know.”

“I hope so, for your sake,” says Haydith evenly, before addressing the others. “I shall let my brother judge her, as she asks. Keep her bound and under strict watch.”

“Are you sure, princess?” asks Gareth. “There are many ways to hide the truth, and she can be a danger to you. After all, we’re fairly sure that there is still someone on board who summoned the elementals and somehow got the shadows aboard. This is one more complication for our aim of protecting you.”

“Yes, I am sure. I will not execute her out of hand without knowing further why Gustavus was killed, and that is better done before the King.”

With the decision made, the Angels and Maddox quickly follow Haydith’s commands. Theda, actually weeping with relief, is taken to a nearby cabin and left, tied and under guard. As they leave her, Six comments, “I think that counts for one of the many daggers, not all wielded by the same hand, that we were told we shall encounter. I wonder what it is she is hiding.”

“Whatever it is,” says Gareth, “It’s something that has her really scared.” He shrugs. “I’m curious, but right now I’m much more concerned about Haydith’s security.” 

With that in mind, he returns again to the princess’ chamber, while the others – beginning to tire with the lack of sleep and constant exertions – retire to their rooms. Six, unaffected by such matters, returns to the main deck, while Korm moves to Nameless’ room. With Luna’s snoring no longer a factor, both he and the alienist quickly fall asleep.

* * *
Some time later, Nameless comes awake to the painful feeling of something hard bumping his forehead. In the near gloom of the chamber, lit only by an _everburning torch_ with a nightshade, his bleary eyes note that it is Edgar. The strange familiar, who usually naps beside Nameless’ pillow, is leaping forward on his spidery legs to butt the alienist in the skull. _“Wake up, you idiot!”_ comes the mental command.

Nameless’ eyes snap wide and he begins to sit up, before he notices the source of Edgar’s alarm. A dark figure leans over the side of the bed, a hand shooting out towards the alienist with lightning speed. Nameless only has a second to note the feral, glowing red eyes, set deep in a bone-white face above the hooked nose and the grinning mouth full of gleaming fangs. 

And then the vampire’s claws rip his throat open from ear to ear.


----------



## Vorput

> And then the vampire’s claws rip his throat open from ear to ear




...well... that ain't good for Khorvaire...



So can Luna speak in Wildshape now?

And not a beguiler, the party already had one  
I'm playing a bard of sorts... only one without any perform based abilities.


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> ...well... that ain't good for Khorvaire...




We shall see, we shall see... 



> So can Luna speak in Wildshape now?




Only through that magical tongue of hers (which is the tongue symbiont 'embedded' in her by Mordain so it only activates in wild shape form), which makes her sound like one of the Chipmunks.



> And not a beguiler, the party already had one
> I'm playing a bard of sorts... only one without any perform based abilities.




Aw, that's a pity. But bards can be fun too. Even if you don't have perform based abilities, you should pick up ranks in Perform (mime). Nothing could be scarier than a gnome mime member of the Trust.


----------



## Arkhandus

shilsen said:
			
		

> Audhild is our elven druid, who is strangely alike Luna in being homicidal and pyromaniac.




Ahh, yes.  The Druid Condition.


----------



## shilsen

Yeah, I'm beginning to wonder if it's endemic to druids, or specifically druids of the female persuasion. I have to see a couple more in play before I can decide.

And now, to the next update. Since I'm sure nobody is really that curious about what happened when Nameless got coup-de-graced by a vampire assassin, I thought I should step back in time to Aundair. This is picking up right after Luna returned from her impromptu date to rejoin her friends...

* * * * * * * * * *

Having returned from her little adventure late at night, Luna relates what (and who) she did during her absence, and mentions the proposal/invitation from Lady Belissa ir’Kemiria. 

Listening to Luna’s story, with an obvious look of disapproval, Gareth says, “You should have not left the party, Luna. We are here to guard Haydith, not to have you cavorting with people. If someone were going to attack us they would have expected you there and sent extra forces – so by you not being there we would have been outnumbered and potentially underpowered. You need to learn to control yourself.” He then turns to the others. “We do not have time to go to this meeting. Whether Haydith stay in her room all day or travel all around, we need to be close to her. This lady can contact us and meet us when our job has been completed.”

Nameless shakes his head. “I disagree, Gareth. There was plenty of security at the party and Luna is more of a hazard to us and the party at such an affair than an asset. It was far better that she be elsewhere for the duration. And according to that itinerary we received, tomorrow will be relatively light as far as escort duty is concerned. Most of the day will be spent on a meeting over treaties and trade agreements, between Haydith, her attendant diplomats and an Aundairan contingent. We’ll likely not even be in the same room. And after that, there is to be an official leave-taking from Aurala, and the _Serenity_ will leave in the early evening. We can spare Luna and someone diplomatic to go talk to this lady, which excludes you, me or Korm. So I guess that leaves Six to go. We need more information on these people and why someone would be warning us away from them. We should send whoever goes in disguise though, so we aren’t seen to be openly talking with them.”

Gareth’s eyebrows shoot for the ceiling. “Diplomatic excludes me? Or did you mean I can’t go because I’m usually the primary guard for the princess?”

Six says nothing, expecting another round of arguments between Nameless and Gareth. _Best to stick with the golden rule of social engagement. WWLD? What Would Luna Do?_ Evidently, what Luna would do is interrupt. “Well, I’ve got no interest in going. Hell, if you want I can stay here guarding the princess and you can go! I’m only going if we all are. If you ask me, we can just send a note telling her we’re busy running around toilet training some other set of royals and if she wants to talk to us she can do it here in some lobby somewhere. What the heck are we – delivery people? Oh, and make sure to tell her to bring candy! And that the Angels can get very grumpy if not appeased with candy!”

Now that she has spoken up, Six follows suit. “Maybe get her to meet us in a natural setting here? Then we could treat the area with spells of protection and detection, and with two druids, we have a significant advantage. If we need it.”

”Yeah!” says Luna, intrigued by the suggestion. “I could be in the form of a nice bird, so I’m not involved until I feel like it.”

Gareth, still somewhat miffed at Nameless’ comment regarding his lack of diplomacy, frowns at Luna. “What are you talking about? You are the one to arrange the meeting – you are the one who needs to go. There is no way I am going with my duties, and absolutely not a hope in Dolurrh that I am leaving the princess in your hands!”

Luna scowls back. “Well, my point was that your damn princess is after all mobile. She has legs and everything. Maybe she even has a brain and could be helpful. And she would be perfectly safe with me! Safe as houses! Just because I don’t have some weird royal-worshipping fetish doesn’t mean I can’t keep those in my care safe! And I did not ‘set up’ a meeting. I just reported that someone wanted one. And we don’t even have a meeting yet. Hell, I said I’m not really interested, but if one of you is stuck going alone, then I’d do my civic duty and accompany them.”

Gareth’s frown deepens, “We’ve seen a lot of destroyed houses in our time – usually destroyed because of us. The princess has business here and so do we. Our business is to follow her around. That’s it. As I said, I’m not leaving her. You four can do what you want.”

Six sighs. “How about we send this Lady an invitation to pose for a sculpture here? If she agrees, then we can just get a room for a studio, and Nameless can set up a _private sanctum_ there.”

“Sculpture?” Luna shakes her head. “This is getting way too complicated.”

“Yes, it is,” agrees Nameless, “But with everything going on with us, we do need to be careful. Why don’t we do some divinations as to what it is that she wants?”

The paladin considers and says, “I could do a _divination_, but that means one less spell to use guarding the princess.”

“Well,” says Luna, “If we’ve been warned about them, then they’re probably a danger to the princess too, aren’t they?” She looks around. “So – are we going or not?”

Six says decisively, “We’re not going. But we may try to meet her here.” He looks at Nameless. “With your divinations, you could ask if the mental message was one of those psionic things you told me about. Additionally, whether it came from inside the House, and if someone on the security detail was responsible. I wouldn’t ask about motivations and if they’re friends or enemies. Without more information about the perceptions and beliefs involved, such information is not helpful to our group.”

“Agreed,” says Nameless. “Nobody is going until we’ve got some answers and since magic is our only reliable source for them, it is magic we will have to turn to. That’s a good idea about the psionics, Six. I’ll include it as a question when I try a _Contact Other Plane_.” 

Gareth’s face has not lost anything of its frown, as he turns to Six. “That’s a lot of assumptions and generalizations. I care not for subtle intrigue. If a person cannot state –plainly – what they think then they are no better then a cowardly rogue trying to stab someone in the back – and they should be trusted as much. We also know the mental message we got was from one of the ‘guards.’ As for psionics, I am not sure, but maybe Nameless can find out. It also does help to know if the people who we work with are trying to help or hurt us, but unfortunately, this is not always easy to tell.”

Six replies, “But, Gareth, that is the essence of diplomacy and interpersonal interactions. Look at this palace around us. It’s all about subtle intrigue. And actually, all we know is that we got a mental message that we thought came from the direction of where some guard was standing. The message could have been implanted on a delay on the guard, us or the dessert. Since we don’t know the mechanism, all deductions about this barely rise to the level of idle speculation. Even the people working with us may not know themselves if they are trying to help or hurt us; such is the nature of scheming, not to mention magic.”

“Six, I disagree,” says Gareth. “Subtlety is a part of it, but diplomacy and interpersonal relations do not require subterfuge. Open dialogue – communication – is a much more effective medium. Secrets are sometimes needed, but lies and trickery is not. And while pawns may not know the consequences of their actions, that is quite rare.” He looks at Nameless. “I thought we knew the message came from the guard.”

The alienist shakes his head. “No, we don’t. We got the message, and then noticed the guard nodding at us and I saw a brief flash of a transmutation aura. While the two are likely connected, we have no proof that they are and it could well have been either misdirection or a trick of some sort, intended to get us to focus on that guard to the exclusion of the real culprit. One thing I’m almost certain of – the person who contacted us was not one of the guards. They were either controlling or impersonating one.”

Luna, who has been rolling her eyes during this discussion, breaks in. “Ghraagh! As far as I’m concerned – everyone is always trying to kill us. A person can’t step outside the house for ten seconds without a raincoat of powerful protective spells! It’s ridiculous! I’m damn sure everyone here would probably kill us in a Sharn minute if they thought they could. So – I guess one could argue that it doesn’t warrant any investigation because it’s all Business As Usual. Given a choice, I’d just fry ’em all and let the gods sort ’em out! We got specific warnings on this one, so I mentioned it.” She takes a deep breath, but seems no calmer as she continues. “But all this talk is getting on MY LAST SHIFTER NERVE! If we have to go around one more time about this – I assure you, I WILL _FLAME STRIKE_ SOMETHING OR SOMEONE, and no one wants that ... do they?” Luna leaps to her feet. “That’s it! I’m going to change into a bear and go swim in the Royal Pool or Fountain to cool down. I am done discussing. You all decide what you are doing and let me know. I can’t take another minute of this crap. Call me when someone needs to killed!”

With that, Luna storms out of the room. There is a moment of stunned silence, and then Nameless looks at Korm, who had dozed off, only to be woken by the outburst. “Go get her! The last thing we need is Aurala looking out the window and seeing Luna in bear form in the fountain. That’s liable to kill her – or restart the Last War.”

“Hey!” says Korm, aggrieved. “Why do I have to do the dirty jobs?”

“You’re a druid. Luna and you share a close kinship.”

Korm gives Nameless a dirty look, but rises. “You know, that’s a damn mean thing to say about anyone!” Then he grunts and follows hurriedly after Luna.

Once he leaves, Nameless gives Gareth a withering glance. “And you complained because she _left_ the party?” He shakes his head. “Anyway, it’s getting late. We need to get some rest and in the morning, we can do the divinations.” 

The Angels head to bed, including Luna, whom Korm persuades to return without mauling any of the help. Not certain of the Gatekeeper’s persuasiveness, Six spends a good deal of time checking out exits and especially areas with plants and trees, just in case Luna does finally lose it.

* * * * *

Luckily, the shifter does nothing untoward, and she and the other Angels have a restful sleep. Awaking early next morning, so as to make their magical investigations before required to attend to Haydith, they prepare their various spells. 

While they are doing so, Six leaves to find the local Sivis post and dispatches a messenger to the ir’Kemiria manor with a message for Lady Belissa. It says that Six, who is an accomplished sculptor, would like to make a sculpture of her and that she should come to the royal palace to meet them. 

The messenger returns just as the spellcasters end their preparations, with a sealed note from the Lady. The note reads: 

“While I am flattered at your offer, I am feeling slightly indisposed and would prefer to do no traveling today. I would appreciate it if Six, and anyone who cares to accompany him, would visit me here at home instead. If he is still interested in the sculpture, I am sure I can provide any facilities he shall need. 

I hope you will be willing to honor my request. I know that you are here to escort princess Haydith, so I apologize for the inconvenience I am causing you. Nevertheless, I believe it will of mutual benefit for us to speak. 

I shall be at home throughout the day, so I would be happy to welcome you at any time. 

Cordially, 
Lady Belissa ir’Kemiria.”

After reading it Gareth says immediately, “I still will not go. Accepting this offer would be an insult the princess. If we were to leave her to attend this lady, we would be elevating her above Haydith.” Looking at Luna, who he is certain does not understand, he adds, “That means we would make the princess look bad – and in the end that would be bad for us socially, politically, morally and financially, considering we are here to help the princess – who paid us.”

“Actually,” points out Korm, “We aren’t getting paid, remember? Nobody ever mentioned money. We were told that it would make important people in two, perhaps three, countries very happy if we took the job and did it satisfactorily, but nobody offered us any money.”

Six cannot close his eyes, but he quietly opens his haversack and puts his head in it, a second before Luna explodes. “We aren’t being paid anything for this? _Nothing_?” She glares back and forth. “Which of you sons of bitches negotiated this deal? Again – we are being paid NOTHING?! I’m just having trouble taking that in. I thought we were getting a free ship or something?”

Nameless opens his mouth to say something, but she rages on. “Didn’t one of you idiots at least say something about the treasure we find? Because there’s a lot of treasure around these castles! Jewelry everywhere! I saw some damn good furniture and tapestries too. Damnit – we could use it in the house or even hock it! Hell, I’m tempted to walk through this place and start hoarding it, and then Nameless could _teleport_ it back home when it gets too much for our _bags of holding_!” Luna takes a deep breath and then looks around once more, slowly calming slightly, becoming more disgusted than angry. “Nothing?!”

While Six pulls his head out of the haversack and Korm chuckles loudly, Gareth says, “Trust me, the good will that we get from this job will be worth more than all the gold you can carry.”

Luna snorts. “I can carry a lot more gold than you think! Anyway, this all better be worth it when we’re done, or I’m going to have words with somebody. Words that end in burning and screaming! But I won’t say anything for now. You guys get started on the divinations.”

“All right.” After some discussion, Gareth begins the process by casting a _divination_, asking, “If we do what the sender of the telepathic message wants us to, what is the goal he – or they – wishes to accomplish?”

The answer he receives is, “They wish your friendship, and to help and protect your heart. Remember, even the vilest villain can be a friend in need or share similar goals. For a time.”

When Gareth repeats it to the others, Nameless says, “Hmm. I don’t think it’s paranoia that makes me think that ‘heart’ might refer to you-know-what in here.” He taps his chest. “All right. Time for a _contact other plane_. In view of what Gareth discovered, I think I’ll focus on the question of what exactly his _divination_ meant, and also whether psionics were used in that message. That’ll help us narrow down the options.”

“Doesn’t that spell make your brain come out your nose or something?” asks Luna.

“It could, if I tried for the highest degree of certainty in the answers, but I won’t be risking that today. I’ll try for just enough to be certain of taking the strain. The answers will be less reliable, but we’re not in a situation where I can risk it.” Nameless then begins to cast his spell.

Once he completes it, the alienist feels his consciousness expand, with the slightly addictive pleasure that he always feels when using this spell. His vision dims and then the room around him disappears, to be replaced by a dark gray expanse, within which hangs the gleaming web pulsing with light that represents the reservoir of cosmic knowledge that he is currently in contact with. This time the web is dimmer, with many of the sections darkened, since Nameless is attempting a lesser degree of contact, to avoid any chance of temporary mental damage.

As always, there is a growing physical pressure inside his head, which disappears suddenly. And then comes the expected mental command - _Ask._

Nameless asks his first question – “Does ‘the heart’ refer to the Gate in my chest?” As usual, the web reorients itself, focusing on a particular section and one of its component motes. 

And then something changes. 

Nameless feels himself drawn irresistibly inwards and – though directions are strictly metaphorical here – downwards. His area of vision shoots forward, into and _through_ the web, emerging on the other side and continuing swiftly into the dark gray expanse. Darkness envelops Nameless, darkness shot through here and there with flickers of green and purple, in shades nauseating to a normal human but actually soothing to him.

Not soothing, however, is the feeling of complete loss of control. Nameless’ consciousness hurtles ‘forward’ for what seems like minutes, before a giant wall leaps into existence and he slams to a halt with a terrific mental collision, sending a sharp pain shooting through his head. The ‘wall’ is vast and green, very gently curved, and at the edges of his ‘vision’ changes abruptly into a yellow field, shot through with thick vein-like green strands.

The alienist only has a second to comprehend what he sees, before a voice booms in his head - *“Metaphorically – Yes!”* Even as he realizes that it is an answer to the question he asked, Nameless feels a draining sensation and the questions he had planned on asking leap to the forefront of his consciousness, though with no effort on his part and with no opportunity to change them. And as each question is formed, another answer thunders in his mind.

Q: In the answer to the divination Gareth cast, does “the heart” refer to me?

A: *Yes. Not you as an individual, but by extension, as guardian of the Gate within.*

As the answers arrive, the pressure in Nameless’ head grows quickly...

Q: In the answer to the divination Gareth cast, does “the heart” refer to my heart?

A: *In the sense that your heart and its beating prevents the Gate from opening – yes.*

... until it is almost unbearable, and he realizes that he is in contact with an entity rather than a diffuse web of cosmic knowledge. And one of incredible knowledge and power. And his...

Q: Was the transmutation aura I sensed on the Guard a spell I know?

*A: No. It is a psionic power, not a spell.*

...intellect is beginning to crumble beneath the contact. In fact, it is crumbling in a manner that he seems to recognize. This has...

Q: Was the transmutation aura I sensed on the Guard a spell I don't know?

*A: Yes.*

...happened once before. And even the voice – or rather, will – that answers his questions seems familiar. When was it? Wait, can it be? But that's impossible! It's just like...

Q: Is the transmutation aura I sensed on the guard a spell Gareth could cast?

*A: No.*

...when he was in contact with – Cyäegha!

And even as the realization leaps to the forefront of what remains of Nameless’ consciousness, the ‘wall’ in front of him moves slightly, the yellow boundary shifting closer to him, and he realizes that he is ‘floating’ immediately in front of (or behind?) Cyäegha’s giant orb, evidently unnoticed. Until now.

For an instant, the Great Old One’s will is bent towards this infinitesimal consciousness before it, and Nameless feels the purely impersonal waves of cosmic evil roll over him. But beneath that, there is a glimmer of emotion that Nameless can recognize, and it is that of surprise. To his own amazement, the alienist realizes that while he is in no way actually present in Xoriat, his consciousness somehow made contact with Cyäegha’s through his spell, and the answers he received were dredged from what passes for the Great Old One’s mind. And evidently without its knowledge.

But now it knows. Cyäegha’s simple awareness of the contact with Nameless places an incredible mental burden on the alienist, and with his intellect already deeply strained by the unexpectedly powerful contact of obtaining the answers, it is too much to bear. Everything goes black.

...

What the other Angels see is Nameless cast his spell, his eyes go gray, and then his face turn ashen. He does not respond to any questions and, a couple of seconds later, pitches forward on his face, blood running out of both nostrils and ears.

...

Nameless comes to, with the others tending to him, a couple of minutes later, with an incredible headache and a feeling of extreme fuzziness in the head. Once he has been healed back to normality, with multiple _lesser vigor_s and _lesser restoration_s, Korm asks, “What the hell is going on? That wasn’t supposed to happen, was it?”

Nameless shakes his head. “Well, that was extremely purple...”

“Say that again and I will smack you!” growls Luna. 

“Forgive me, Luna. I’m a bit discombobulated. I was going to say it was very <rose scent>, integral of <roquefort cheese>, but I’ll refrain.” He shakes his head again. “Am I making any sense?”

After taking a look at the expressions around him, Nameless says, “I guess not. Well, to put it in more conventional terms – it would appear that there have been some additional effects from my ‘reincarnation.’”

“See? Told you I should have done it!” says Luna, but the others shush her, and Nameless continues. “Rather than the relatively benign other planes I had in mind, I was thrust into contact with Xoriat. Which is impossible. Not only was I in contact with Xoriat, but one of the Great Old Ones as well, which is also, of course, impossible. And what’s more, until the final question, it was apparently unaware of that I was drawing answers from it. Which is also impossible. And if I do anything else impossible this morning, I suspect I may spontaneously become a turnip.”

Korm reaches into a haversack and pulls out a bag. “If so, I’ve got the spices for it. And I’m only half-kidding!”

Nameless says dryly, “Good to know. Now here’s what I learned.” He explains what he asked and the answers he got, adding, “Unfortunately, I was unable to change the questions which I had planned to narrow down the details, since the flow of information was too strong. But it wasn’t a loss, since I got far more detailed information than I would have.”

After listening, Gareth says, “I would assume these old ones are not friendly, or even neutral in nature, that they would wreak havoc if they came into contact with our realm. Given they also know if you die then you open a Gate here, they may want to kill you. But because of the loose connection are they not capable of it? I am not sure, but either way, it seems like contacting other planes may not be a good idea for you unless it is an absolute necessity; the risk seems too great otherwise. What do you think?”

Nameless replies, “If the Great Old One had wished me dead, I would have been dead. I could no more resist a Great Old One than a single ant could overcome you. But, time does not pass the same way for a Great Old One that it does for us, so what we have done may not have happened yet there or it could have been an eye blink since the last time I was there even if millennia have passed here. To the Great Old Ones, Past, Present and Future are meaningless concepts. They exist beyond our petty comprehension of such things in ... in ... the same way you transcend the limits of a drawing on paper.”

“Good,” says Luna. “I thought you were going to say ‘purple’ there for a moment.”

“I could barely resist the temptation,” says Nameless dryly. “But now we need to decide what to do about this Lady Belissa. Even though the divinations weren’t directly about her, I think it’s clear that we have more than enough to worry about without adding more.”

“So, what message do we send back?” says Korm.  

“I’ll deal with it.” Nameless takes a sheet of paper and begins to write. He concocts a cryptic and confusing answer that seems to imply a number of things, yet eventually turns out to be utterly meaningless and non-committal. Then, to further complicate things he partially encrypts it in ways that would suggest various things to a skilled mage, while remaining just as meaningless. “Here you go.”

Korm reads the first couple of lines and then stops. “If this makes her feel half as dumb as it just did me, then I don’t think she’ll ever contact us again.”

”Excellent.” Nameless dispatches the note with another messenger. 

Shortly after he returns, the Angels are asked to join the princess for breakfast. It takes place in a nearby dining hall, with all members of Haydith's entourage present. During the lavish meal, Haydith and Maddox go over the itinerary for the day, which is the same as what the Angels received earlier. Maddox also mentions, while pointedly looking at Luna, that it would be preferable that everyone who is supposed to be near the princess actually stay where they are supposed to. And anyone not supposed to be near the princess should at least stay with others from the group or make sure at least a couple of people know where they are.

After breakfast, the Angels get half an hour of time to themselves, before they have to accompany the princess to her meeting. When they eventually do so, it is to a different part of the palace than they have been before. The meeting is to occur in a large suite, and those not participating are expected to wait in three adjoining rooms. Haydith, Maddox, Gustavus and Theda head inside, along with an Aundairan contingent that includes Lord Darro ir’Lain. The Angels, along with a few Karrnathi soldiers and a small Aundairan escort, get to wait outside.

About half an hour after the meeting begins, the Angels are joined by Adal, who is accompanied by four palace guards. One of them happens to be the one that the telepathic message the day before seemingly came from, and it's quite clear that he is significantly uncomfortable. Adal strides over, a polite smile on his hawkish face, and greets the Angels. Then, he leans forward and says quietly, “Nameless – and anyone else who’s interested – could I talk to you privately? Regarding what you mentioned yesterday at the party.”


----------



## Vorput

> And now, to the next update. Since I'm sure nobody is really that curious about what happened when Nameless got coup-de-graced by a vampire assassin, I thought I should step back in time to Aundair.




...you really are a RB...


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> ...you really are a RB...



 [Wide-eyed innocence]Moi?[/wide-eyed innocence]

Not to worry, the next session will see us right back on the _Serenity_ for a pulse-pounding encounter featuring...

* Vampire assassins (yes, there's an "s" at the end)

* Voltron (or is that Optimus Prime?)

* A golden shower from Gareth

* The answer to the burning question - what happens when you put two ladies-in-waiting inside Luna?

Stay tuned!


----------



## shilsen

The vampire grins in satisfaction as Nameless’ hands attempt vainly to stop the stream of blood jetting from his ravaged throat. The alienist’s body thrashes in agony and with the abortive effort to concentrate and form the words of a spell, and then tumbles off the bed to the ground, blood pooling around him as his eyes close. His killer looks across the bed, to meet the startled gaze of Korm, who has been woken by the sound of the attack. He smiles, tongue flickering over gleaming canines, and leaps for the druid’s throat.

_Sh*t! Nameless!_ Korm throws himself off the bed, barely avoiding the attack, and desperately grabs at his sword. As his hand closes on the hilt, claws rake his back and fangs bite into the top of his shoulder, only an instinctive jerk saving his throat. The Gatekeeper feels the inevitable effect of the vampire’s touch, draining his vitality as well as the most powerful of the spells from his mind. With a snarl, Korm draws the sword, reverses his grip and strikes backwards, barely missing his own side. Driven by muscles permanently enhanced by Mordain to rival the most powerful of giants, the meteoric blade punches through the vampire’s undead flesh. 

With a half-scream and half-snarl, the vampire throws itself backwards, ripping itself off the sword. Somersaulting across the cabin, it leaps and lands halfway up the wall, glaring down at Korm as he spins around to face it. Though its ribs are visible through the gash he just inflicted, it growls and its muscles tense for another leap. Korm hefts his weapon and sets his feet. Though he knows he can probably defeat it handily enough now that he is on his feet and prepared, each blow from it will further weaken him, and that might make all the difference. Even as he thinks of calling out for help, he hears startled cries from the guards further down the corridor outside. _Damn! Now what?_ 

The vampire’s smile indicates that it knows what the reason for the alarm is. “Fool! You cannot save your precious Princess – or yourself.”

Korm growls back, “If you’re so sure, come down here and let’s see exactly how undead you are.” The vampire’s eyes narrow in response, and then widen in shock and surprise, its fanged jaw actually sagging for a moment. 

_Huh? It wasn’t that snappy a comeback _, thinks Korm, before realizing that it is looking past him. For a moment he wonders if it is trying to trick him into turning his head, and then he hears the sound of spellcasting. Pained, slightly indistinct, but very recognizable, spellcasting.

…

With the front of his throat torn out and his body drained by the vampire’s attack, Nameless should – by the standards of normal, mortal human beings – be dead by now. As his body hits the ground, even he expects to be momentarily a corpse, and wonders as his eyes close precisely what is going to happen to the Gate in his chest with his death. 

But none of the Angels is strictly a normal mortal any more, least of them Nameless, with the blessing of the Silver Flame, the world-warping touch of Xoriat, and the ‘improvements’ of the Fleshweaver all existing within his physical form. A form, not all of which he was actually born with. A second after his eyes close, he feels another sharp pain in his throat, as the modified troll-flesh implanted throughout his body by Mordain begins to repair itself. Tendrils of flesh begin to spread across the huge gash and the pumping of blood slows to a trickle. The pain is intense and actually grows for a moment, but it only serves to indicate to Nameless that he is still very much alive.* 

And now really, _really_, pissed off.

…

Nameless rises slowly from behind the bed like the pride of archmages, his throat and chest soaked with gore, speaking the words of one of his most powerful – and hitherto never used – spells. The sonorous arcane words are somehow made even more impressive by the accompanying wheezing of air rasping through the ragged tear in his throat. The alienist dips a hand in his belt pouch and produces a tiny bronze hammer, which shimmers momentarily and then falls to dust as he completes the spell, “…Form Voltron!”

The metal dust from the hammer sparkles on his fingertips and a matching sparkle shoots up his hand, up the arm, and across his body. Nameless feels first his limbs and then the rest of his body grow simultaneously heavy and unresponsive. Arms thicken and broaden, fingers meld into strange shapes while expanding drastically. His chest and torso puff out and his legs bulge till they are like tree trunks. Nameless’ head bumps against the ceiling and he has to bend forward, his growing form filling the cabin. A thick metal coating appears over his now completely transformed body, and the alienist can feel it spread inwards, till he is almost purely a creature of iron and steel, a metal monstrosity that somewhat resembles Six – in so much as a hunting tiger resembles the fiercest alley cat. 

Both Korm and the vampire stare in surprise as Nameless looms over them. The transmogrified mage cannot speak, but no words are necessary, as his deep-set mechanical eyes fix themselves on the undead and he slams his hands together, or more precisely, the huge axe-blade and giant maul that now pass for his hands. 

The vampire promptly turns into a misty vapor and flows towards and under the door. Korm quickly slashes at it, tearing away wisps of the cloudy form and then ducks even more swiftly, as an axe blade the size of his torso slashes past his head, ripping away more of the vapor. “Hey – watch it!” he says aggrievedly, before asking, “When the hell did you learn to do that?”**

Unable to speak, the warforged titan that is Nameless shrugs and then indicates the door. Korm nods and throws it open, only to be enveloped in smoke as huge clouds of it roll in from the corridor, which is also full of smoke. Korm swears explosively, if in a somewhat muffled voice, and says, “There are either a hundred vampires out there or something really screwy is going on. Come on!” Taking a deep breath, he plunges out and into the smoke. The titan squeezes through the doorway behind him, to the accompaniment of rending wood as his huge sides splinter the doorframe. 

As they both emerge and turn towards the princess’ chambers, now invisible in the smoke, the next door flies open and another huge shape appears. Luna steps into the corridor, shaking her head warily from side to side at the smoke. As the titan, which matches her huge bulk, turns to look at her, the druid emits a growl and lifts a paw. Korm, barely able to glimpse her general shape but knowing precisely what Luna’s response to strange sights is, shouts a warning, “Don’t _flame strike_ him! That’s Nameless! And we’ve got a vampire problem.”

“Nameless?!” Luna yelps, in her tinny voice, “And vampires? What the f*ck have you two been up to? And what’s with this smoke?” 

“Search me,” says Korm, still making his way slowly through the smoke. “We got attacked by a vampire while sleeping. I thought Nameless got killed, but he’s evidently better. The vampire fled in _gaseous form_ under the door and we opened it to find this place full of smoke.”

As he is speaking, a large metal maul hooks itself around Korm’s chest and yanks him backwards. And then Nameless’ huge form thunders past him. 

The alienist had cast an abjuration*** on the door of Haydith’s chamber when leaving Fairhaven, which informs him of whoever is entering or leaving the room, providing a visual image as if he were standing nearby. And what he sees in his mind, even as the spell’s magic warns him that two creatures have entered the princess’ room, is the sight of not people opening it but rather smoke rolling under the door. _More vampires!_

* * *

Meanwhile, inside the princess’ chamber, all of the occupants have been warned that something is amiss by the surprised cries and sounds of conflict outside. Gareth, who has taken to sleeping in his armor, leaps to his feet from his cot outside the special internal bedchamber that Haydith uses, the Endless Blade flashing into existence from his metal hand.

Haydith’s face appears around the curtains that hide her bedchamber, hair tousled from sleep but eyes bright in alarm. “What’s going on? Gareth?” 

“I don’t know, but better to be prepared for anything. Get behind me.” The paladin takes a step, seizes her hand and pulls the princess out, before moving between her and the door. Haydith emits a surprised squeak at the sudden tug, momentarily seeming more a frightened teenager, in her nightgown and bare feet, than a royal scion. But then she sets her jaw and a hand produces a hidden dagger, which she holds at the ready. 

Her ladies-in-waiting scurry toward her, but Gareth waves them away. “I need space around the princess! Stay back!” The women halt and reluctantly retreat, huddling together nearby. Without giving them a second glance, Gareth begins to place extra protective dweomers on Haydith. As he completes the second spell, one of the ladies-in-waiting shrieks, “What’s that?!”

Turning, Gareth sees coils of vapor roll under the door and advance steadily towards them, moving far too quickly and determinedly to be normal smoke. 

* * *

Outside, at the far end of the corridor, Six, covered in black shadows by his responsive plating as soon as the alarm was raised, rolls through the hatchway above and drops to the ground without bothering to touch the stairs. Despite his three eyes, the warforged can pierce the thick smoke not much better than his companions, but he has the advantage of being unaffected by inhaling it.

Flicking his chain into a ready position, Six advances along the corridor. Just as he is about to turn the corner, his foot hits something metallic, which rolls over the carpeted floor. _Huh?_ Six stoops and feels for it carefully, half expecting an explosion, and his hand closes on a rounded object. Raising it to his face, he sees a metal flask, its stopper hanging off it on a chain, with smoke billowing out of the open mouth. Six drops his chain and attempts to stopper it, to no avail, since the stopper halts two inches from the opening as if there was something in the way, even though investigation reveals nothing. _Great! Magic!_

After a second’s thought, Six reaches in his pouch and pulls out a large piece of cloth. He quickly places it on the carpet and straightens it, immediately creating a large cylindrical hole in front of him. Six promptly drops the bottle into it, scoops up the _portable hole_ and stuffs it back in his pouch. Then, recovering his chain, he moves on, noting that the smoke is very gradually beginning to thin now that the bottle that created it is gone.

As Six advances, shouts of alarm break out ahead of him, followed by the sound of a terrific impact of metal on wood.

* * *
Unable to warn the others of what he knows, Nameless simply rushes towards the princess’ chamber, knowing that Korm and Luna will understand what he is doing and follow. 

The warforged titan looms out of the smoke over the two confused soldiers still standing in front of the door to the antechamber outside Haydith’s room, who are looking as bewildered as they have been since they saw a rolling wall of smoke envelop them, followed by sounds of conflict within it. Uncertain whether to retreat to the princess or move forward to investigate, they compromised by remaining in position, and now regret it thoroughly as the metal monster bears down on them. 

As they bravely prepare to defend themselves, Korm appears behind the titan and yells, “It’s us! Lower your weapons!” A second later he yells, “And duck!” Even without the warning, the guards would have done so when they saw what is coming, and they are already throwing themselves aside as Nameless’ huge maul smashes the door to smithereens. Smashing through what little remains of the door, the titan begins to squeeze its way into the antechamber. 

This area too is smoky, though less so, as it has been filling slowly with what seeps under the door. But above the smoke, on the ceiling, crouches a dark figure, who throws himself at Nameless as he enters. As billows of smoke fill the chamber through the shattered doorway behind him, the alienist-titan has a momentary glimpse of sharp fangs and recognizes the face that he saw above him as his throat was ripped out only moments ago, as the vampire Korm fought descends on him. With absolutely no effect, as its claws make an excruciating screech across his metal armor and fail to penetrate, and his new semi-construct nature makes him immune to its necromantic touch. 

The vampire twists away desperately, barely escaping being crushed against the wall by the titan’s bulk, and lands beneath him. As Nameless attempts to look down in the cramped space, Korm yells from behind him, “Go get the princess! I’ll handle this!” An aggrieved, if thin, growl from behind Korm indicates Luna’s frustration. “Screw this!” she grumbles. “I can’t see squat! I’m going inside too!” Even as Nameless ignores the vampire and smashes down the princess’ door, there is a momentary inrush of air behind Korm, as Luna activates her ring and _dimension door_s away.

* * *
Inside the room, Gareth’s eyes narrow as the mist advances, and then he laughs grimly. “Let’s see if I can persuade whatever it is – and I think I know – to emerge.” He produces a flask of holy water, uncorks it and sprays it in the air, while chanting the words of a spell. The falling droplets take on a silver glow and hang in mid-air for a moment, before reversing direction and flying upwards till they hit the ceiling. And then they spray outwards, till a driving silvery rain is falling throughout almost the entirety of the large chamber. 

Though the raindrops land on Gareth, the princess and her ladies-in-waiting, they disappear instantly, not even dampening their clothes or skin. Not so for the advancing vapors. As the droplets hit them, there is a sizzling sound and acrid smoke arises. The mists recoil as if alive and split into two, flowing around the edge of the falling rain to the walls of the chamber, where they float upwards. And then solidify, resolving themselves into two vampires, with their arms and legs bent in preparation to spring. 

One snarls, thin lips rolling back to reveal pointed teeth dripping with anticipatory saliva. “Time to die, paladin.” Its glowing eyes shift to focus on the princess. “Greetings, Princess – the Emerald Claw welcomes you to Karrnath!” Haydith glares back silently, her expression belying the pallor on her face. Gareth pushes her a little further behind him and looks back and forth between the vampires, while saying, “If you’re so confident, why are you hiding up there? Come and get a little wet.” His eyes flicker to the small pockmarks on the skin of each vampire, a couple of which still emit wisps of smoke, thanks to his spell.

Both vampires simply snarl in return and the one who spoke gestures to the other. They scuttle sideways along the walls, placing themselves on opposite sides of the pair on the floor. “You cannot stand against us both alone,” the first one says to Gareth. “Maybe – just maybe – you can stop one of us, but the other one only needs to touch your little princess.”

Gareth’s eyes flicker back and forth and he swings the Endless Blade back and forth, but he knows the vampire is right. He cannot cover two directions at once, and it’s already abundantly clear from their movements that both of the undead are faster than him. _“You know,”_ says a voice from the sword, thankfully telepathic for once, _“I think you’re kinda f*cked!”_

The vampire leader grins at the paladin’s expression. He knows the magical rain will hurt slightly, but it cannot kill them instantly. Already, the time taken to exchange threats has allowed him and his ally to heal the damage they have taken. He nods at the second vampire and his undead muscles flex, as he prepares to leap, already looking forward to the pleasure of rending and tearing…

…and then the door explodes into fragments, as a huge metal figure smashes its way into the room, carrying part of the doorframe with it. In the midst of the smoke behind it, two struggling figures are momentarily visible, one significantly more muscular than the other. As an eddy in the smoke reveals them to the view of those in the room, the vampire slashes at Korm’s face. The Gatekeeper grabs his wrist in mid-slash, knots of muscle leaping forth under the strain, and then drives his sword upward point-first like a huge dagger, through the vampire’s upper belly and out his back. 

As the smoke conceals the pair again, the occupants of the room stare in shock at the giant metal figure. The three ladies-in-waiting, huddled in a corner as far from the vampires as possible, scream in terror, and the screams intensify as another huge figure appears. This one is an inordinately obese bear, and unfortunately for Haydith’s servitors, it appears in the same area as two of the ladies. For a split second, bear and humans share the same physical space, and then the two unfortunate women are flung into the nearest open space, shrieking in agony as deep cuts appear on their skin. Ignoring them and the minor damage she suffers too, Luna growls, “Relax, people – the metal guy’s Nameless!” 

Gareth breathes a sigh of relief, but doesn’t lower his sword. “You’re outnumbered and outmatched! Surrender now!” 

The shocked expressions quickly fade into fury as the vampires snarl again – and leap. But the momentary hesitation caused by the strange entrances has given the Angels all the time they need. The leader is intercepted in mid-leap by the gleaming silver arc of the Endless Blade, as Gareth smites him to the ground, the combination of the sword’s nature and the paladin’s gifts allowing it to smash through the vampire’s resistances to damage as if they never existed. 

The second vampire is met by a less magical but much larger blade, as Nameless’ huge axe also smashes it to the floor. As it struggles to rise, the giant maul follows, bowling it backwards in a neat parabola to land at the edge of the smoke entering through the shattered door. Though badly wounded, the vampire springs agilely to its feet. And then a spiked chain leaps out of the mist behind it, to wrap around its ankle and deposit it face-first on the ground. It instantly rolls over, just in time for Korm to step out of the smoke and bury his sword in its face.

As Gareth swings another brutal blow at the leader, he finds his target falling apart into a dark gray mist, which then disappears, only to reappear right behind Haydith. The vapor coalesces in the blink of an eye into the vampire. He strikes out with a clawed hand at the shocked princess’ face, and then a paw the size of his chest smashes him to the ground, as Luna barrels into him. 

Refusing to give up, the vampire sinks its claws into the bear’s forepaws, draining her vitality. Luna growls at the pain. “That does it! I’ve had it with these motherf*cking vampires on this motherf*cking airship!” She pushes down, pinning the vampire to the floor with all her weight, and calls backwards, “Get out of the blast radius, princess!”

_Oh, f*ck!_ 

Paladin, titan, Gatekeeper and warforged all hurl themselves at Haydith, simultaneously pulling, shoving, and carrying her away in an effort that miraculously does not kill the princess.

Ignoring them, Luna looks down at the struggling undead and emits an ursine laugh. “Think you can dodge this?” A look of comical confusion crosses the vampire’s face, and then she calmly brings down an empowered _flame strike_ on the two of them. 

Everyone in the cabin stares in shock as Luna’s upper half and all of the vampire disappear inside the roaring column of flame. And then as the magical fire dissipates, Luna shakes herself and blinks owlishly as the vampire falls apart into mist. Turning to the others, she chuckles, “Evidently not.”

Korm looks at the huge bear, the upper half of which is completely black, smoke rising from her scorched hair and flesh. “You … are … insane!”  

Luna laughs. “Yeah, yeah – but you love me for it! And I figured he couldn’t do any fancy dodging if I held him down, and it worked, didn’t it?” She glances at the slowly retreating mist. “Can we do anything to that?”

“Afraid not,” begins Gareth, when a small voice interrupts, “Could you let go of me now?” The paladin quickly relinquishes his hold of the princess, as do the others, and let her rise. 

Though bruised and battered, Haydith is fine. At least in body, though the expression in her eyes wars between hysteria, anger, fear and relief. After a few seconds of silence, she finally manages to say quietly, “Thank you … for saving my life.” There is a slight pause, and then she says, in the same quiet, controlled, tone, “Please tend to these ladies. And excuse me for a moment.”

Gareth begins to say something, and then, after one look at her face, falls silent. Haydith turns away and walks, slowly and deliberately, to her bedchamber. Stepping in, she pulls the curtains closed behind her.

“What’s that about?” asks Luna, confused at the response.

Six shakes his head. “Let’s start cleaning things up and find out exactly what happened. I found this bottle on the…”

There is a muffled sound from the bedchamber, like one might produce if screaming at the top of her lungs while holding a pillow tightly over her face.

“Aah!” says Luna, as enlightenment dawns, “She’s just got to know us well now!”

* * * * *
Later that night, a couple of hours before dawn, Six stands on the deck of the _Serenity_ beside the wheel, talking to the heavily cloaked figure of Mal. “So three of them?” asks the captain, frowning. “And you still have no idea how they got on board?”

“No. Once they were defeated and turned to mist, we couldn’t hurt them any more. Though Luna tried. Gareth’s confident that they’re dead, since we saw them float overboard, and they’re likely too slow to reach their coffins in an hour, as he said they need to.”

Mal’s frown, if anything, deepens. “Good. But did you bastards really have to screw up my ship like that?”

Six shrugs. “We didn’t have much choice, since Nameless had to get in there quickly. I’m sure you can repair it.”

“We can, and will, but your bloody overgrown mage took out two doors and most of the partition around them. Damn!”

“Believe me, it could have been worse. Knowing this group, a _lot_ worse!”

“That’s not as reassuring as you thi…,” begins Mal, who is looking around idly, but he never completes the sentence. Instead, he peers into the darkness and then stabs a finger at a point ahead and well to the left of the airship. “What the hell is that?”

Six turns and looks in the indicated direction. Approximately a quarter of a mile away, rising out of the darkness, are multiple large shapes, though their precise proportions are difficult to discern. The warforged looks up at the overcast night sky which hides the stars and moons, and as if in reply, a patch of cloud above parts fortuitously. The beams of Rhaan, now in its full phase, beam down as if spotlighting the scene, and Six can now see the dark forms perfectly.  

Each is a huge shape, nearly twenty feet in length, borne on slowly flapping wings that slightly resemble those of a gigantic bat. But the bodies, beginning with a fanged draconic head and ending in two huge taloned feet, with a tail that curves up over the broad back and bears a hooked stinger as long as a greatsword, are hardly bat-like. Nor alive, as Six’s incredible eyesight notes the gray, corpse-skin covering the bodies, and the places where their flesh is tattered and torn, revealing the pumping of giant muscles or the white of bone.

Each of the six zombie wyverns bears four figures on their back, many of them armed and armored, wearing white tabards with some insignia on them, indistinct due to distance. A much larger emblem, perhaps the same, is now visible on the banner that stands, evidently planted deep in undead flesh, on the back of the central wyvern. On a simple white background gleams a symbol, five digits made of wavy green flames, forming the claw-like hand which gives its bearers their name.

As Six opens his mouth to call a warning, Mal shouts into a speaking trumpet that will carry his voice to all corners of the airship, “Battle stations! Get on deck! Emerald Claw attackers dead ahead!” 


* Luckily somebody had a swashbuckling card that let you automatically make a Fort save, without which Nameless would have blown it against the coup de grace.

** That, is a Body of War spell from Spell Compendium, which turns you into a warforged titan

*** Improved Portal Alarm, also from SC


----------



## Vorput

> “That does it! I’ve had it with these motherf*cking vampires on this motherf*cking airship!”




hehe, that quote made my night


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## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> hehe, that quote made my night



 I'll take credit for that one. Since the session was actually played out two months ago, I couldn't remember the precise details of who killed each vampire how, so I've ad-libbed many of the details of the fight, and thrown in a lot of the more humorous lines. But it's true in spirit, if nothing else.

The one thing I do remember is that they beat the crap out of the vampires in no time flat. They were fairly tough (two CR8 and one CR11 vampire, all three heavily buffed for the attack), but the PCs really tore through them without the vamps being able to do anything much. Ah well - I can always reuse the stats later. And, considering the PCs have really put themselves on the Emerald Claw's radar now, I'm quite sure I'll be able to


----------



## Sidekick

WF Titan!! Vampires attack, crazy goodness involving Druid D-dooring, displacing and almost killing some ladies in waiting.

Only here on Channel Shilsen - it's got all your Rat Bastard needs!


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## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> WF Titan!! Vampires attack, crazy goodness involving Druid D-dooring, displacing and almost killing some ladies in waiting.




Wait till you see what Luna pulls off in the big battle versus the Emerald Claw attackers. Let's just say it's finger-lickin' good!



> Only here on Channel Shilsen - it's got all your Rat Bastard needs!






Alas, Channel Shilsen will be a little late with the next program, since I've been busy for the last couple of days, but it's for a good cause. It was to get my visa renewal approved, which I did, so I shall be back in the US in late August to start off another nine months of Guardian Angel goodness.


----------



## shilsen

Here's the belated update, which is the last bit regarding the group's activities in Aundair. The next update will be the one with the battle vs. the Emerald Claw. That'll be the last one before I head back to the US.

* * * * *

Nameless responds to Adal, “I think we’d all like more information on what happened, if you have no objections.”

“Certainly,” says Adal quietly, indicating the exit. “We can discuss this in the next room.” He doesn't glance directly at the Karrnathi and Aundairan soldiers in the chamber, but his eyes flicker in their general direction. “Privately, as I said.”

Rather than replying to Adal, Gareth says quietly to Luna, “Luna, we have all agreed to be here and protect the princess. Please heed Maddox’s words and stay close by and OUT of trouble. I understand you get bored easily and cannot stand these kinds of events – but you agreed to be here – and I am sure that you keep your promises.” He grins. “I mean, have you ever failed to keep your promise about flame striking someone who annoyed you?”

Luna growls, “I’m failing to _flame strike_ someone who’s annoying me right now!” and then turns to Korm, “You can keep Gareth company.” The Gatekeeper sighs and nods. Luna says, “Thanks,” and then transforms into a large pigeon and flaps her way over to land on Six’s shoulder, as the warforged is following Nameless out of the room. He turns to look at her and says succinctly, “You crap, you die!” drawing a very un-pigeonlike burst of laughter from the bird.

Ignoring the interplay among the Angels, Adal leads the trio into the next room and shuts the door after the four guards have entered. One of the guards stays at the door, while the other two stand close behind the one who seemingly sent the message the previous day, who is looking more and more nervous. 

Adal turns to look at the Angels and then points at the fourth guard. “Is he the one whom you think you get the message from? I presume so, from your description, Nameless. I have spoken to him and he says he has no memory of having delivered such a message. And, to the best of my ability, I cannot see any sign that he is lying. If you have any explanation or suggestions, or a way for ascertaining the truth, I’d be glad to hear it.” He indicates the guard. “He’s all yours.” 

The guard turns a little paler than he already was.

Nameless says slowly, “We have done some magical investigations already and the results indicate that it is unlikely that he would know anything. We have been able to determine that some sort of psionic power was used on him and thus that the message was likely sent to us using psionics rather than magic.” As he speaks, he drops the illusion concealing his eyes and studies the guard with the _arcane sight_.

Adal listens silently, with a slight frown on his face, and his expression doesn’t change as the illusion drops and Nameless’ gleaming blue eyes are revealed. The guards all look a little surprised, especially the one being interrogated, who looks slightly more uncomfortable than he already did. He clearly has to make an effort not to shrink back as Nameless looks him over. 

The alienist finds no magical auras on the guard – or any of the guards – though Adal has the expected plethora of minor magics and a couple of powerful items on him. Nameless shakes his head. “He seems to have no enchantments on him now,” before addressing the guard directly. “I do have two questions, though. Have you recently made any new friends or acquired any new magical items?”

The guard licks dry lips and then says, in a slightly reedy voice, “Um ... no, sir. I ... er, have nothing like that ... and no ... um, new ... friends.” Adal speaks up at this point, saying, “I’ve had his quarters searched. The only magic items he had were the standard potions we issue guards.”

Even as Adal is speaking, Nameless sees an enchantment aura flash into existence around the guard. What also occurs, and equally unnoticed by the others since none of them is standing as close to the man as Nameless, is a change in the man’s eyes. Though his facial expression doesn’t shift by even an iota, his eyes suddenly turn significantly calmer and somehow seem older, differing drastically from the highly concerned look they wore moments earlier. 

What the others, or at least Luna and Six, do notice is the telepathic message that they, and Nameless, receive. The voice is recognizably the same as the one which sent them the message the previous day. _“Yes, I am within him, without his knowledge. Do not reveal this. It is for you, not Adal. You should not have told him.”_ While the message is being sent, the guard begins to speak, explaining that he was questioned by Adal and that he knows nothing about what he asked. 

There is a moment’s pause in the telepathic message, though he rambles on verbally, and the guard frowns slightly, as a mage might when casting a spell. Then the voice continues telepathically, _“I can only speak, not hear you, like this. I wish to aid you and keep you safe. Trust and seek no more for now.”_ There is another pause and a third message. _ “If you wish more speech, nevertheless, use the word ‘consideration’ and I shall contact you this evening so we can communicate more freely and in detail.”_

Nameless notices another flare of enchantment with this message, which quickly fades away, as the previous ones have. It seems that each message is a separate use of a psionic power, similar to _sending_ but with multiple recipients and only one-way.

The voice ends, and the guard falls silent too, studying Nameless with an inscrutable gaze, which the alienist feels is currently evaluating him and his response. Adal is still looking at the guard quizzically, seeming slightly surprised at the random information that he provided to Nameless and evidently unaware of the telepathic communication that just occurred. He asks Nameless, glancing at Six and Luna as well, “Any ideas?”

Luna thinks for a moment and then says, “Thank you for your time and consideration.
I guess that’s all for now. We are very sorry for any inconvenience to which you may have been put in regards to this matter.” _Man, I hate this !_

Adal’s expression doesn’t change much, but he is clearly a little surprised. “Is that it?” he asks, his eyes focused on Nameless though he is evidently responding to Luna’s comments. “There is no inconvenience,” he adds. “If people are ... doing what you said he did, it needs to be investigated.” It seems from his words and manner that Adal has not told the guard what he is supposed to have done.

The guard looks at Adal and then back to Nameless, with a hopeful expression on his face, but the faint light of shrewd calculation doesn’t leave his eyes. He frowns slightly again, and all three Angels receive the message, _“Good move. Tell Adal that you are done, Nameless. And do not be alarmed at what happens next. It is for secrecy and your benefit.”_ 

While Nameless considers what to say next, Six too says, “Well, goodbye.” He then bows and leaves, as does Luna, still perched on his shoulder.

Adal’s expression flickers very quickly to deep irritation and then back to a relatively placid mask, as Six and Luna exit. He glances at them and then focuses on Nameless again. “Is there anything you would like to know, or is that all?”

“No,” says the alienist finally. “I was simply considering any other options I might have, but nothing comes to mind that I can utilize right now. I apologize for being unable to help any further and for the inconvenience, little as it may be.”

In the other room, Six quietly explains to Gareth what just happened. The paladin sighs, “I do not like all this subterfuge, and controlling of other people. It is deceitful and vile. This person seems powerful enough that he could have gotten us a message another way – without controlling someone.” He pauses to ponder the situation for a few moments, and then continues. “Given this news we will need to meet with this person eventually – at least to hear out what he has to say. It would have to be after we are finished with our current task. We cannot afford to get swept into something else – and I am not willing to have this telepath in the proximity of the princess.”

Six shrugs, causing Luna to flap her wings to keep her balance and give him a swift peck. Ignoring it, he says, “Given this is a psionicist – or at least that’s what Nameless thinks – who can piggyback on the unwilling without their awareness, how would you know? We would need someone with great psionic knowledge to decipher what might have happened.”

Gareth frowns. “Would you please rephrase? I have no idea what you just said.”

Since he is unable to sigh, Six simply replies, “I was responding to your assertion that you don’t want this telepath within proximity of the princess, and asking – how would you know? The psionicist can piggyback on unwilling subjects without their knowledge. We don’t know the powers available to psionicists. The voice told us it couldn’t hear our conversations, but he could be lying. Any guard, the ladies-in-waiting, or the princess herself could be already affected by our mental friend. We don’t know and we don’t have anyone to ask. We would have to speak to a psionic expert in a way that avoids a psionicist that can be anywhere. I would say anyone, but we don’t know if his powers are limited to people.”

Gareth’s frown lessens only slightly, as he says slowly, “You are correct. For all we know he could be in one of us, though I think my training provides me some more resistance than the average person, or even in the princess. I would, however, still prefer to keep the princess’ contact with this person down to a minimum. We still have a job to do here, and maybe it is the will of all that is evil, but it always seems like something is trying to distract us from our quest at hand.”

Luna, from her perch, nods slowly. “Hmmm .... in as much as I agree with you about not taking on anything else right now, I do think that we should have more ‘speech’ with this person. I think we want to know what is going on, and if someone is possessing people to get to us, that needs to be addressed. And we want some names, dammit! Anyway, since I used the word ‘consideration’ like he asked, we should hear from him this evening.”

“This evening?” asks Gareth. “But we will have left Fairhaven by then.”

“Based on what these two are telling us,” says Korm gloomily, having stood and listened silently all this time, “I doubt that’ll be an inconvenience for him.”

Meanwhile, in the other room, Nameless takes his leave too. Evidently somewhat dissatisfied, Adal dryly thanks him for all their help and departs with the guards. After joining the others, Nameless – and they – wait in the room outside the meeting chamber for the next two hours, until the negotiations are concluded. Haydith and the diplomats emerge and they head back to their quarters to make the final preparations for lunch and their departure.

The meal, which takes place just over an hour and a half later, is a much smaller affair than the banquet of the previous night, with the visitors being joined by mainly Aundairan royalty and those closest to the throne, as well as a couple of favored members of the nobility. 

Six, having cogitated on the prospect, decides to tell Adal more about the psionic issue. While the others are eating, he takes a seat beside the Royal Minister of Magic and tells him quietly, “About that situation with the guard, I think you need a psionic detective. Someone with an inviolate mind, the savvy to ask the right questions, and enough knowledge of both psionics and magic to comprehend the answers. We’re quite sure that you have had a major security breach by a psionicist, but exactly how is something our group can’t discover yet. And we have other things keeping us busy. Whoever handles your security and issues of espionage should be given this problem.”

Adal doesn’t seem too pleased at the news, giving the impression (without voicing it) that he’d have liked to have this information earlier, but he thanks Six for the suggestion. “Psionics is a very rare art. I shall see what I can find out, and if possible, I’ll let you know. I have the guard being watched now, so at least he should not be a problem. He still seems quite confused. If possible, I’ll let you know what I find out.”

The meal is significantly more peaceful for the Angels than the earlier affair was, with absolutely nothing untoward happening. The same is true for the leave-taking ceremony that follows, which occurs in the throne room but involves a much smaller number of people than during the original visit there. Queen Aurala says her official goodbye to Haydith and asks her to return at any time, while re-pledging Aundair's friendship with Karrnath. Haydith responds in kind.

Afterwards, Haydith and her entourage prepare to board the waiting carriages and proceed back to the Lyrandar tower where their vessel awaits. The return to the airship and the departure occur without a hitch and Fairhaven soon fades behind the _Serenity_ as it heads into northern Aundair. 

As promised by the unknown person possessing the guard back at the royal palace in Fairhaven, the Angels receive a message midway through the evening. More precisely, Luna does. It comes as a voice in her head, which says, _“Greetings. You wished more speech with me. What do you wish to know? Speak quickly, since our contact will last slightly more than a minute.”_ Having received them before, Luna gets the impression that this is similar to a _sending_ spell, where each message can only be of 25 words, though evidently this one lasts much longer. 

As Luna receives the message, Nameless’ sight lets him see a new enchantment aura of moderate strength spring up around her. “Message?” _I shall have to research these psionics further_, he thinks. 

“Yeah.” After quickly relating the contents, Luna says to her companions, “He says there’s not much time, so I’ll ask a few questions quickly. If you want me to add something, say so.” Then, to the unknown contact, she queries, “Who are you and what is your interest in our group? What is the actual danger/concern that you possessed someone to caution us of?”

There is a pause of a few seconds after Luna transmits her questions and then she receives the reply. _“You are heroes of Eberron. We approve. We warned you of those who might have learned Nameless’ condition. Would be ... unfortunate. So we prevented it.”_

“Ask about the Lady they warned us of,” says Six. “All right,” says Luna, and then proceeds to ask, “How did you learn Nameless’ condition? What was the specific concern with the lady? Didn’t we prevent its discovery by refusing her audience?” After a moment, she adds, “Is that you, Fleshweaver? Or one of the Silver Flame people? Who are you and what factions do you work for/represent?”

There is a momentary pause, and then Luna receives three replies, one after the other.

_“Your companions have spoken to many about Nameless’ condition. We hear much, so we learned. Others may too, who are less friendly. Be more careful.”

“The Lady does not know of Nameless. She wished other work, which could reveal his state. You have prevented it by refusing her. Well done.”

“Fleshweaver? Silver Flame? No. We secretly study and protect Eberron. Some like us wrongly possessed you to attack Havakhad. We apologize for the inconvenience.”_

Luna lifts an eyebrow and grins at her companions. “Wow! Protectors of Eberron? That’s cool! Maybe we are finally meeting ‘people’ of some account! Not those stupid government officials or royals!!”

Gareth grimaces. “Assuming they’re saying the truth, which I sincerely doubt. If you can still respond, tell them we wish to meet face to face – be it in our home or a neutral place.”

Luna does so, and the response is swift. _“Certainly. In Sharn. But we must speak through someone. We do not ... travel well. But should not matter. The vessel is unimportant. The consciousness is.”_

“Have you any interesting special powers? Can you help rid Nameless of his burden? If not, how he can use it to best advantage?” 

_“We are studying possibilities for curing Nameless’ condition. If there is one, we will find it and inform you. We think there is no advantage.”_

“Do you have any aberration fighting tips? Why Sharn? Why your interest in Eberron, if you don’t even live here? Are you like druids?” Korm rolls his eyes at Luna’s next set of questions. “People who are possessing others and using psionics? I doubt we’ll find anything druidic about them.”

_“Not only Sharn. We have thousand eyes everywhere. We dwell in Eberron too, but not like you. Not druids, but we abhor extraplanar dangers too.”_

“Yeah, yeah,” grunts Luna at Korm. “But anyone who has issues with extraplanar  gets my support. And if you want to know about the possessing thing…,” she asks over the psionic link again, “Also, how did that little mix up like the mistaken possession and murder attempt come to pass?”

_“ Some among us have poor judgement. Attempted to slay Havakhad through you. Long history of Kalashtar opposition to some of us. Unfortunate. Was an error.”_

As Luna is relaying this to the others, she is interrupted by a closing message. _“Must end here. Fear not. Shall be watching and aiding you. Shall also minimize others’ existing knowledge of Nameless’ situation. Tell nobody of our contact. ”_ She feels a soft prickling inside her head and the contact is gone. As it ends, Nameless detects the momentary flare of a moderately powerful divination aura around Luna, which instantly begins to fade away.

Once the contact ends, Luna says, “I wonder what these ‘people’ are.”

Nameless considers whether to expand on what his research and divinations have revealed about the quori, but decides not to bother. Korm is slightly less reticent, saying, “I know little about this, but one of the more learned Gatekeepers mentioned them to me, and it wasn’t positive. As we saw with that possession issue you asked them about. Them claiming to be on our side doesn’t make me any the happier about it.”

Luna shrugs disdainfully. “Well, actually everyone had better be on ‘our side’ ... cause if Nameless goes... the world goes with him! Which is a real pain if this is where you are keeping all your stuff!” Then she grins. “You know, maybe we should let everyone know about Nameless’ condition, so that people know not to risk hurting him. Maybe put out an article in the Korranberg Chronicle with a big picture of Nameless and a sign above him saying, ‘Do NOT blow this  up!’”

While Korm almost snorts his brain out his nose with amusement, Nameless simply looks at Luna silently for a few seconds, before saying dryly, “Of course. I’m certain telling everyone about this would be the perfect way to go.”

The sarcasm is lost on – or ignored by – the shifter. “Precisely! The more people who know, the safer we actually are! Damn – where is my gnome?” 

Gareth rolls his eyes and says to Nameless, “Is there any chance you could research a permanent _silence_ spell or effect for Luna?” The alienist shakes his head. “Even my magic isn’t that powerful,” causing the druid to growl at them both, “Bite me, you two. Or even better – let me bite you!”

The Angels continue to discuss the situation and the communications they received, but it is not the last telepathic, magical message for the day. Barely fifteen minutes later, they receive another. This time it is a _sending_ to Six, and it comes from Adal, the warforged clearly recognizing the clipped tone even as the spell identifies the sender.

_Problem here. Found trusted psion to interrogate guard. Before interrogation began, guard dropped dead. Part of brain and spine exploded. Was psionic attack. Self inflicted._

Six sighs inwardly and replies, _Fears confirmed. My condolences. Source seems centered on us. Investigation seems to activate the otherwise dormant source. We are suspending inquiries until charge is delivered._ Then he proceeds to tell the others what the message was.

Korm growls irritably. “And these are our new friends, who might be watching us as we sleep? Peachy!”


----------



## GoodKingJayIII

shilsen said:
			
		

> Korm growls irritably. “And these are our new friends, who might be watching us as we sleep? Peachy!”




Not just sleep!  Other naughty things too!

By the way, what level are these guys now?


----------



## Rackhir

GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> Not just sleep!  Other naughty things too!




Anyone who want's to spy on what Nameless does in his private time deserves what they get...



			
				GoodKingJayIII said:
			
		

> By the way, what level are these guys now?




The group is 13th, except for Nameless who's a level behind due to the reincarnation. He was getting a +1 caster level boost from the animated Edgar though which takes most of the sting out of it. He'll probably level at the end of the current story though, unfortunately the level boost won't be sticking around. But so it goes.


----------



## shilsen

And, after an inordinately long hiatus, here's the last update before we start gaming again. I'm leaving for the US on the 19th and hoping to get a game in the next weekend. But until then...

* * * * * * * * * *

As Malkom shouts his warning, Maddox – who has remained on deck throughout the night – strides swiftly back towards the helm to join the captain and Six. While doing so, he shouts orders to the half dozen Karrnathi soldiers on the current watch, who rush towards the two port-side ballistae and begin to turn them toward the attackers. More soldiers, some Karrnathi and some of the Brelish complement of the airship, begin to hurry onto the deck too and scatter to take up their positions. The door to the pilot’s quarters behind Mal open as a partly-clad Wash and Zoey hurry out, the pilot grabbing the wheel at Mal’s command while his wife rushes to the nearest ballista, yelling for Jayne as she goes.

The wyverns, meanwhile, are swiftly moving closer, far faster than the leisurely motion of their tattered wings would indicate. Maddox says, “The bastards are flying too fast for zombies. They’re using some form of magic.” 

“Well, it’s not going to be fast enough! Wash – get us out of here!”

“Sure, Mal,” says the pilot with a smile, spinning the wheel hard to starboard. “I am a leaf on th…,” he begins, before Mal growls, “You say that one more time and I throw you overboard!” Wash grimaces and falls silent, focusing on steering the ship. The _Serenity_ responds with surprising speed, beginning to heel away from the attackers.

As it is does so, one of the men on the furthest wyvern unfurls a second, smaller banner beneath the large one bearing the insignia of the Emerald Claw. This one depicts a skeletal hand horizontally holding a red snake* and sheds a dim light around it, the color of dried blood. The lurid radiance spreads quickly, like a growing flame, more clearly illumining the figures below it. Six’s eyes are immediately drawn to one who sits on what appears to be a stool implanted onto the wyvern’s back, due to the desiccated and almost skeletal head, with flesh pulled tight over it. Maddox evidently knows it, since he draws a sudden breath and then says, “Emrena the Red! So she’s alive – and a lich!”

“Friend of yours?”

“Not exactly,” he replies flatly. “She was a well-known necromancer in the Emerald Claw and did some great work for Karrnath during the War. She disappeared when it became a terrorist organization, and I had no idea she was still alive. Well – not alive, I see!”

“Emrena the Red? Is that because she is bloodthirsty?”

“No,” says the bone knight, pointing at the figure’s clothing, which Six now notes consists of a red dinner dress which would be considered quite daring even by Sharn standards, with a neckline that plunges almost to the navel and slits on either side rising slightly above the waist. The effect is somewhat spoilt by the expanse of dead, dried flesh it now serves to reveal. “She has a thing for little red dresses.”

Besides indicating her nature as a fashion victim, the light of Emrena’s banner also serves to reveal that each of the wyverns bears three or four mail-clad humans wearing the distinctive half-face helmets and tabards of the Emerald Claw. Two of them also carry an undead creature looking like a nearly skeletal corpse, with a large cartilaginous tongue that lashes the air before it. The last wyvern, bearing the lich, also carries three men in full plate, one of whom has a full-face helm carved like a skull. “Arkhandus!” says Maddox. “No surprise there. He’s her husband. A priest. Just as powerful.”  

“Better and better,” grits Malkom, who has been listening. “I’m more interested in how we can avoid their acquaintance.” Even as he speaks, the airship’s two ballistae fire. One misses, but the other – aimed by Zoey – hits a wyvern right in the middle of its chest, the barbed metal bolt cleanly punching through undead flesh. The target shudders, causing its riders to grab desperately at the harness looped around its torso, and then resumes its flight towards the _Serenity_, ignoring the large wooden shaft sticking out of its chest. The flight of arrows and bolts from the defenders has even less visible effect.

“Damn!” yells Zoey. “Get the explosive ammo!” While the loaders pull new bolts, these marked with red starbursts, out and load them into the ballistae, she shouts to her husband, “Wash – how about getting us out of here?”

Wash doesn’t answer, but a second later, the airship completes its surprisingly fast turn and begins to pull away at an angle. “See!” the pilot calls back. “Piece of cake!” Then he pauses. “Hey – am I the only one who hears…”

“No!” shouts Malkom, running to the rail and looking over, but seeing only darkness and wisps of mist below, with the indistinct shape of the forest five hundred feet below. “There’s someone below us!”

A second later, the sounds of spellcasting – muffled by the bulk of the airship between the caster and those on deck – cease. As, with a sound no louder than that of a soft sigh, does the soft crackling of the ring of elemental fire that surrounds the airship and propels it forward. The _Serenity_ jerks violently as its only motive force ceases to operate, and even though it continues forward, it is rapidly slowing.

Six, a step behind Malkom, adroitly balances himself and stays on his feet, but loud thumps and the sounds of cursing rise around him as others roll around the deck. A surprised Maddox almost takes Malkom off his feet, but the furious captain barely notices, as he yells, “My ship! Who’s the bastard screwing with my ship?!” He throws Six a glance. “Where the hell are your friends?”

The warforged silently points at the main hatchway, from beneath which a loud clanging sound and the sounds of imprecations in multiple tongues – one of them an amusingly falsetto one – has just indicated that the other Angels were almost outside when the sudden stop occurred. A second later, four slightly bruised adventurers make their appearance. There is no time for detailed explanations, but one look at the oncoming wyverns, now rapidly overhauling the slowing _Serenity_, tells them all that is needed. 

“Why’d we stop?” asks Nameless, while quickly throwing up a protective spell.

“Someone below us just dismissed my elemental. How about you guys get down there and find out who?!”

“Looks like we’ve got slightly more immediate issues,” says Korm, following Nameless’ lead. “Wish I had a few more spells left.”

“Yes,” says Maddox, grimly eyeing the nearing wyverns. “Their timing was perfect. Too perfect.” He unsheathes his sword. “Time to make them regret it.”

As the wyverns swoop in on the airship from behind and above, as well as slightly to port, Zoey and Jayne fire their ballistae. Each bolt smashes into a wyvern and the magical runes on them trigger, exploding into _fireball_s. One of the targets, the previously wounded one, literally explodes into large, flaming undead chunks which plummet into the darkness. Its burned and screaming riders begin to descend more slowly, evidently possessing _feather fall token_s. The other wyvern lurches violently, one of its wings withering under the blast, and two of its riders also lose their hold and fall. But the magical _fly_ spell keeping it aloft allows it to right itself and continue.

Another volley of arrows, some of them flaming or showing signs of magical properties, rises to meet the wyverns, but no more go down. The riders unleash a withering response. Two javelins which expand in mid-flight into bolts of _lightning_, two flaming beads that explode into _fireball_s, and a pair of small globes that explode with concussive force sweep the airship’s decks, badly wounding the waiting soldiers. Though the Angels and veterans like Maddox and Malkom shrug of the majority of the damage, almost all of them are wounded. 

Four of the riders, including Emrena and Arkhandus, cast _sound burst_ spells as the wyverns swoop over the deck, taking down a couple of the already wounded soldiers, and more importantly, leaving many defenseless and unarmed as weapons slip from stunned hands. With cries of triumph, the Emerald Claw leap from their mounts, floating quickly to the deck without mishap due to their _token_s and attacking whoever they find nearby. Though somewhat outnumbered by the defenders, their preceding spell assault makes it easy for them to sweep through the opposition, especially when the wyverns too descend, bowling over multiple defenders at a time with their sheer bulk. In seconds, the bodies of multiple Karrnathis and Brelanders litter the deck.

Maddox, on the verge of rushing into the melee, hesitates and frowns. “That’s _not_ Emrena! She’s a wizard, not a priest.”

Nameless, his hands moving in the gestures of a spell, says, “Whoever she is, there’s an illusion on her. Among other things.” As he completes his spell, three giant insects appear among the attackers and begin to trample those in their path. A second later, a huge elemental from Luna joins the giant fire beetles, methodically beginning to pound an undead wyvern apart. 

As the others are about to join in, Six – who has remained at the rail swigging a potion– says, “Someone’s attacking the struts!” Malkom emits a furious howl as those nearby hear pounding sounds and the creak of tortured wood coming from below the airship. “I told you guys to get down there! If the strut goes, the elemental can’t propel the ship – and it may damage it.”

“Fine,” says Six and rises into the air, _fly_ing over the rail and down, his armor of shadows streaming of slightly in his wake. 

“Go after him,” calls Gareth to the others, even as he engages one of the Emerald Claw soldiers. “We’ve got things under control here.”

“All right.” Nameless, Korm and Luna take to the air in various ways and proceed to do so.

* * *
As he cautiously descends, Six readies his longbow and selects one of the many elementally-infused magical arrows that he had purchased in Sharn. Using the elemental strut for cover and coming around the bulge of the airship’s side, he quickly scans the two figures standing upside down on the underside of the hull, magically ignoring the pull of gravity. One looks exactly the same as the figure Maddox had identified as Emrena the Red, and the other similarly mirrors Arkhandus. 

Now that he is closer at hand, Six sees that the man is tall and slim, with desiccated skin, at least wherever his face is revealed through the skull helm that tops his gray, full-plate armor decorated with Emerald Claw sigils. One clenched hand is sheathed in a black spiked gauntlet, and as he hammers a fist into the base of the strut he is standing beside, the wood splinters and cracks easily, revealing the adamantine nature of his glove. 

His companion, standing calmly and glancing around with a fixed smile on her lips, catches sight of Six even as the first arrow leaves his bow, and her warning cry and answering spell come a second too late. Even as Six shudders at the painful impact of two _scorching ray_s and barely dodges a third, he sees his target scowl and pull the bloody arrowhead from his side. “Guys!” the warforged shouts, dodging back behind the strut, “We got the real Emrena and Arkhandus down here!”

“Yes, you do,” calls a dry and cold voice in return. “We are here for your princess. Give her to us and you may yet l…”

Even though he cannot see her face, Six grins inwardly as the speaker suddenly falls silent, and then hurriedly begins to cast a spell. Evidently, even a lich can be distracted by the sight of a huge flying bear, a large orc with a pair of cloak-like wings growing from his shoulders, and a cold-eyed man with a tentacle in the place of one arm swooping down towards her. 

As Six hears the blast of a _flame strike_ going off nearby, he swoops out again, another arrow nocked and ready to fly.

* * *
Above, the battle is still in the balance, but swinging slowly towards the defenders. The shock of the initial onslaught quickly passes, and even though it has left the defenders initially outnumbered, the _summon_ed reinforcements from Nameless and Luna are more than evening the odds. And while the Emerald Claw soldiers and clerics are all battle-hardened veterans of the Last War, buoyed on the dark waves of fanaticism, none of them are a match one-to-one for the captain and crew of the _Serenity_, let alone Maddox and Gareth. The bone knight is not far beyond the paladin of the Silver Flame in martial prowess, and the unlikely pair scythe through the enemy.

Gareth hews the head off an unfortunate soldier and lets the momentum carry the Endless Blade, which is spewing a litany of threats and curses, into the side of the next man so deeply that it severs his spine. The expression on the face of a third soldier, indicating that he fully expects to die instantly, changes suddenly. Realizing something is up, Gareth begins to spin around, but something smashes into his back and a crushing weight drives him to the deck. The paladin spins in mid-fall, hitting on his side and rolling as he does, but he comes to a halt immediately as a huge, clawed foot pins him down. The undead wyvern, half its face torn away by one of the exploding ballistae, looks down at him with one good eye and then slams its tail down. Even though the stinger is missing, withered in the process of zombification, it still functions perfectly well as a huge bludgeon, and with Gareth unable to do more than desperately twist away only his armor keeps it from caving in his torso.

Even as the paladin tries to respond, a face appears over his upturned one. It resembles that of a skeleton, but two lurid red lights gleam in the eye sockets, and a large purple appendage, more akin to a tentacle than a tongue, lashes back and forth hungrily. The mohrg drops quickly to its knees, grabbing Gareth’s helmeted head with its inhumanly powerful skeletal hands, and the tongue licks out all over his face, streaming a glutinous slime all over it. The creature chortles as its prey struggles instinctively, knowing that the paralytic saliva will do its work instantly. 

The mohrg’s glee increases momentarily as the human stops moving, and then stops, as it realizes that is only because he is grinning up at it. Lacking a brow that it could furrow, it only has time for a puzzled “Huh?” before Gareth’s left hand lashes up and locks shut around its tongue. He pulls forward with strength that matches the mohrg’s and feels the Endless Blade shrink to the size he telepathically commands. As the now frantic mohrg tries to pull away, Gareth ignores the attacks of the wyvern and raises the saw-toothed dagger now in his hand. He growls, “I’m a paladin of the Flame. And on the first date, I don’t … do … tongue!” The dagger rises and slashes sideways, and the mohrg falls back, trying but failing to howl, since it has left most of its tongue in Gareth’s grasp. 

“As for you …!” Gareth flings away the tongue and slashes again, severing two of the clawed toes holding him down, and leaps to his feet. As the wyvern lurches forward, now snapping its malformed head at him, he calls on the Silver Flame and swings. The dagger transforms in mid-air into the curved falchion that he now prefers to wield the Endless Blade as, which neatly takes the wyvern’s head off its long neck. Gareth sidesteps and turns even before the corpse falls, to see Maddox standing over the tongueless mohrg’s body.

“Sorry – was a little busy,” says the bone knight, succinctly, indicating a man lying nearby in a pool of gore. Beside him lies his hand, still clutching a holy symbol in the shape of an Emerald Claw.

“No problem,” says Gareth, pausing to channel healing energy and seal his wounds.

“Perhaps not for us.” Maddox points forward, where the remaining members of the Emerald Claw, and the surviving three wyverns, have slain most of the _summon_ed creatures and secured some of the deck to themselves. Even now, some of the Emerald Claw are trying to fight their way down the forward hatchway, being resisted by Karrnathi troops, while others try to hold back a counterattack led by Malkom, Zoey and Jayne. As the two holy warriors turn to look, a wyvern smashes its tail right through Jayne’s skull.**

“We could use a little backup. And since we’re stationary…,” Maddox mutters as he pulls a carved bone off his armor and drops it to the deck. There is a burst of grey light and a creature instantly appears beside him. The warhorse turns its head and gazes at its master, emitting a loud neigh. Gareth stares in surprise at the creature, unsure exactly how it does so, considering that it is a skeleton. Even so, it seems quite able to bear a saddle and bridle, and a rider too, as Maddox quickly mounts it. The bone knight clicks under his breath and then yells, “Karrnath!” as the undead mount surges forward, seemingly unhindered by the bodies and blood littering the deck. Startled allies leap out of the way and the two hit like a large metal-and-bone bolt of lightning, smashing multiple enemies off their feet.

“Hey – save some for me!” shouts an aggrieved Gareth, rushing after Maddox. 

* * *
Below the ship, things are not going as well for Gareth’s comrades. Six, as usual, is relatively unscathed, staying at a safe distance and sniping away at the pair of enemies as best he can, but Korm and Luna are in the middle of maelstrom of explosive energy as they and Emrena rapidly hurl spells at each other. Nameless too remains at a distance, but the alienist’s reputation has preceded him, and he is targeted much more often than Six is.

The Angels quickly discover that the lich and her lover are both protected against fire and electricity, which drastically reduces the damage they take from the _flame strike_s and _arc_s _of lightning_ lashing them. Luckily they have some protections as well, and the battle rapidly becomes a case of each side trying to find a weakness in the other’s considerable defenses.

Korm flies in and slashes viciously at the lich with his sword, swearing in orcish as her resistance to such weapons, linked to her lack of vital organs, blunts an attack that would have killed many giants. Even so, Emrena is hurt, and she screams a curse even as streams of lightning arc from her to the Gatekeeper. Then Luna comes roaring in too, giving Korm a chance to back out and heal himself.

The Gatekeeper flies backwards, placing a hand on his scorched chest and casts a spell. The healing energy wells through his fingers and then, to his shock, simply disappears with no effect. Korm looks around wildly, only to see Arkhandus smile broadly as the livid bruises left on his brow by Nameless’ _magic missile_s fade away. Somehow, the necromantic priest has stolen Korm’s healing. “Man!” grits the orc, “I really hate you!”***

Arkhandus simply laughs, but it fades away as Emrena stumbles backwards under the sheer weight of Luna’s assault, undead flesh being flayed away by the bear’s huge claws. With a hurried gesture, the priest places a hand on his lover’s back and channels negative energy into her, instantly rectifying the damage done to her in the last few seconds. Whatever few wounds remain disappear as Emrena clamps a near-mummified hand on Luna’s brow and draws away the druid’s health into herself.

_That was a Harm he used!_ thinks Nameless, grateful that it wasn’t used on one of the others. He unleashes a perfectly placed _fireball_, using his ring to morph it into a sphere of exploding acid, and is rewarded by screams from both the targets. Luna pushes her assault, slowly overcoming the lich’s resistances through sheer strength and persistence. Flying sideways with a flap of his large wings to get the perfect angle, Korm hurls his sword. The meteoric blade blazes through the air, slicing both Emrena and Arkhandus, before returning to his hand. Lacking the lich’s unloving nature, the priest cries out at the impact and hurriedly lays his hands on his wound, partially reknitting the torn flesh and muscles.

With an angry hiss, Emrena steps back and casts, sending a darkly crackling ray at the Gatekeeper. The beam hits Korm in the face and his eyes momentarily roll backwards in his head as he feels the life-draining negative energy momentarily permeate his body. Though he resists the killing effect, which nobody on board besides the Angels and perhaps Maddox could have, he is badly wounded, his skin turning ashen under the onslaught. More worryingly, the beam strips his mind of not one, not two, but _eight_**** of the most powerful spells. 

Korm shudders violently and shouts, “Luna – I could really use a _cocoon_!” Reflexively, he casts the most powerful _cure_ spell he has remaining, and then curses violently, as Arkhandus again somehow redirects the healing energy. “NOW, Luna!” he yells frantically.

Nameless too curses, but mentally. All of them are wounded, Korm near critically, and the damn cleric seems able to constantly keep healing himself and his undead girlfriend. _It’s time for the big one!_ The alienist gestures and pronounces a string of words, ones that he has lovingly practiced but never had reason to use before. Somehow, the arcane syllables ring out clearly even over the noises of the battle on the deck, the angry growl of Luna as she rises towards Korm, the twang of Six’s bow. Nameless feels a sudden pang in his chest as some of his life energy is stripped away to power the spell. Unusually sonorously, he says, “I _wish_ that Emrena be unable to resist my next spell!” There is a faint, almost imperceptible shimmer in the air around Nameless, as the _limited wish_ temporarily mutates the nature of reality around him.

This time it is the lich that shouts frantically, as she deciphers his spell. “Arkhandus! Kill him – now!” Her skeletal hand moves in a quick gesture and a small _orb_, its glowing green flames empowered for increased virulence, leaps forth to smash into Nameless’ chest. The previously wounded alienist shudders violently at the impact, only the protective spells he had cast earlier keeping him still alive. But he has no protection against the next attack.

Even without Emrena’s cry, Arkhandus had recognized Nameless’ spell and marked him as their new primary target. He turns, not even bothering to acknowledge the arrow from Six which buries itself in his shoulder, and flies forward, pronouncing words of necromantic power as he comes. Still reeling from Emrena’s attack, Nameless has no chance to dodge, and Arkhandus’ mailed fist – now glowing with dark green flames – slams into his chest. 

As Six, Luna and Korm (now temporarily safe inside Luna’s last _cocoon_) watch in horror, Nameless cries out involuntarily, the pain of cracking ribs subsumed beneath the agony of Arkhandus’ _slay living_ spell. And darkness takes him – metaphorically and otherwise. As he stops moving, Nameless’ _overland flight_ spell no longer has effect, and the alienist’s body plummets like a stone, disappearing into the darkness below.

While Korm and Six struggle to decide what to do next, Luna responds precipitously as ever. She instantly ceases to use her own _fly_ spell and drops after Nameless like a stone, albeit a giant, hairy – and currently loudly swearing – one. The last thing she hears behind her are twin cries of triumph from Emrena and Arkhandus and the desperate twanging of Six’s bow.

As the air rushes up past her falling form, Luna catches sight of Nameless’ falling body just ahead of her and angles her bulk towards him. The distance between them drops quickly, but Luna has only seconds to work with, and even as she desperately stretches herself, she realizes that they will hit the ground before she can touch him. But after the visit to the Fleshweaver, she has certain advantages she did not possess earlier. Luna activates a _cure_ spell with a growl and a gesture and then her tongue shoots out to an incredible length. It slaps wetly against Nameless’ shoulder and the positive energy pours into him.

Luckily for the success of Luna’s insanely heroic attempt and her future opportunity to forever remind the other Angels of it, Nameless is still – if barely – alive. He had managed to stave off the killing effect of Arkhandus’ spell, but the damage it caused had pushed him over the edge of consciousness. His eyes snap open to the sight of a dark forest rushing up at him, and then what feels like a thick, wet tentacle wraps around his shoulder and jerks him violently upwards even as he drops below the level of the highest boughs. A second later, he is hanging onto Luna’s fur as she soars back upwards towards the airship hanging hundreds of feet above them. Despite the feeling that she has dislocated both tongue and jaw with the effort of flipping him onto her back, Luna quickly mumbles an explanation.

Far above, Emrena and Arkhandus float upwards toward the bubble that surrounds Korm, anticipatory grins on their faces. Unable to flee or do much else, the Gatekeeper hurriedly casts his last healing spell, causing the pair’s smiles to only broaden. Another arrow from Six whizzes by, causing Arkhandus to respond with a _ray of enfeeblement_ that temporarily robs the warforged of his strength. With a mental sigh of resignation, Six stows away the bow and draws his chain, preparing to fly in and join Korm in a last-ditch attempt. 

Ignoring Six, Emrena momentarily holds Korm’s gaze, withered and near-fleshless lips curled back from gray teeth, and then casts. A second before the healing power of the _cocoon_ can do its work, the translucent shell shimmers and fades away. The Gatekeeper takes a deep breath, hefts his sword and charges. The lich gestures calmly, ribbons of darkly purple energy wreathing her fingers, knowing that she will blast his weakened form apart before he can ever hope to reach her. 

And her lover looks past her and shouts a warning. Startled, Emrena looks back and down, to see Luna’s massive form rising out of the darkness, fur glinting silver in the light of Rhaan. A slim figure crouches low on the bear’s back, a brilliant green beam shooting forth from his extended finger.

As Nameless’ _disintegrate_ – empowered by the ring recovered from the Demon Wastes – shoots upwards and strikes Emrena, the air shimmers around her, the alienist’s previously cast spell stripping away whatever little chance she had of resisting it. Undead skin and bone melt away and an ironically emerald glow envelops the lich’s form as the spell begins to reduce her to dust. Emrena screams.

The scream is echoed by her lover. With her impending dissolution banishing all thought from his mind, Arkhandus panics and – forgetting that Emrena’s nature as a lich means she will eventually reform from bodily destruction – reflexively shouts a word, commanding the band around his throat to do its work. The jet-black torc****, crafted in the form of two clasped hands, flashes momentarily and the green glow around Emrena winks out, only to appear around him. It is a desperate, loving and heroic act. 

And completely fatal. At the best of times and with all protective spells intact, Arkhandus would have been hard-pressed to survive the horrific damage Nameless’ spell causes. Now, bearing the wounds of battle, he has absolutely no chance. His eyes bulge in agony and he reaches towards Emrena one last time – and then he explodes into dust, his armor and possessions tumbling away as no body remains to support them.

The lich screams again, attempting to shut her now-lidless eyes against the sight, and then whirls in mid-air to face Nameless and Luna, leathery lips curling in a wordless snarl. For a moment she raises a hand, prepared to try and blast them out of existence. But then, something makes her pause. She sighs wordlessly and changes the spell she was about to cast. The last thing the Angels hear as she disappears, _teleport_ing away, is a threat and a promise – “Not yet!”

As the _cocoon_ melts away, a rejuvenated Korm flaps towards Luna and Nameless, Six following cautiously not far behind. “How the hell did you do that, Luna?” the Gatekeeeper queries. “I thought Nameless was a goner for sure.”

The bear chortles. “It’s my new combat maneuver – the quicken licken.” But then she looks down, eyes gleaming with cupidity as she sees one of Arkhandus’ falling rings glint faintly in the moonlight. “Ooh – shiny!” Without a word, she turns and dives headlong after it.

As she disappears again into the darkness, her rider’s calm – but slightly plaintive – cry floats back up to Korm and Six. “Dammit, Luna – let me get oooooo…”



* See – I did get snakes on an airship!
** Someone commented that if Jayne survived the battle the PCs would kill him themselves
*** Actually the player said that to me 
**** Critted him with an _enervation_ and then rolled max damage
***** Torc of Heroic Sacrifice, from the MIC.


----------



## carborundum

Good grief! I come back from internetless holiday to THAT! It almost makes up for discovering there's a 4th edition after all!


----------



## Vorput

> “I’m a paladin of the Flame. And on the first date, I don’t … do … tongue!”




::chuckles::  Sounds like it was a fun battle.


----------



## Solarious

Sounds like the Emerald Claw really did bring on the pain. I wonder who else they would have wanted to bring to the festivities, if they knew they had Angels to entertain? I really do.

Speaking of which, I don't quite have your custom monster done to my satisfaction yet, but I've got another custom villian you'll definitely be interested in. The forte of this one.... I shouldn't say out loud. This is really too good to let everyone know about right away. Or your players, who might feel entitled to know how much suffering is comming to roost, given the grief you just let them pick up and carry away without warning.

You said before you have a forum where you play out those longer roleplaying sequences, hmn? You get my drift? Gimmie the lock so I can turn the Key!


----------



## Rackhir

Solarious said:
			
		

> You said before you have a forum where you play out those longer roleplaying sequences, hmn? You get my drift? Gimmie the lock so I can turn the Key!




The RP sequnces wind up getting posted here, once they're finished. So you aren't missing out on anything other than some OoC bits and a certain amount of squabling among the players.


----------



## Solarious

The full context of my statement being that he should put up the site so I can PM him monster and villian stats, which will be read by you if I post them here. I don't want you to know who and what you might face in the future, and I can't PM shil on ENWorld because I don't have a Community Supporter Account.


----------



## shilsen

I'm off to the airport in an hour to fly back to the US, so I can't post a longer response to Solarious and the others right now. Expect one when I'm back there, sometime late Sunday or on Monday.


----------



## Rackhir

Solarious said:
			
		

> The full context of my statement being that he should put up the site so I can PM him monster and villian stats, which will be read by you if I post them here. I don't want you to know who and what you might face in the future, and I can't PM shil on ENWorld because I don't have a Community Supporter Account.




Just start a thread in the Plots, Places and Rogues forum. Shil's players are all adults. If there's a thread we're supposed to stay out of, we'll do so.


----------



## shilsen

Aaaand, I'm back...



			
				carborundum said:
			
		

> Good grief! I come back from internetless holiday to THAT! It almost makes up for discovering there's a 4th edition after all!






			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> ::chuckles:: Sounds like it was a fun battle.




Glad you guys enjoyed it. It was definitely very entertaining and the way it wrapped up, with Luna's quicken licken (she came up with the name) maneuver, was amazing. I'd considered maybe squeezing in a session afterwards, but after that I decided not to, since  that climax seemed an appropriate end before I left.



			
				Solarious said:
			
		

> Sounds like the Emerald Claw really did bring on the pain. I wonder who else they would have wanted to bring to the festivities, if they knew they had Angels to entertain? I really do.




Actually, they knew they had Angels to deal with (how, is to be revealed later), but had figured on having them significantly low on resources after the elemental, shadow and vampire attacks. Which they were, but not low enough, however.



> Speaking of which, I don't quite have your custom monster done to my satisfaction yet, but I've got another custom villian you'll definitely be interested in. The forte of this one.... I shouldn't say out loud. This is really too good to let everyone know about right away. Or your players, who might feel entitled to know how much suffering is comming to roost, given the grief you just let them pick up and carry away without warning.
> 
> You said before you have a forum where you play out those longer roleplaying sequences, hmn? You get my drift? Gimmie the lock so I can turn the Key!




As Rackhir mentioned, doing something on the Plots, Places and Monsters forum would probably be better. But you can also email me at: shilsen at temple dot edu.

And thankee kindly


----------



## shilsen

We had the first session after I got back on Sunday. I'm mostly busy with the first day of classes now, but hopefully will have a writeup done by, or on, the weekend.


----------



## shilsen

Here we go...

* * * * * * * * * *
The four Angels who had fought Emrena and Arkhandus fly back up to the deck of the _Serenity_, most of them looking significantly the worse for wear, especially Nameless and Korm. They find Gareth and Maddox, the latter still on his skeletal steed, along with others of the ship’s defenders, standing on a deck that is stained with blood and littered with bodies.

“Nice horse. Did any escape?” asks Nameless.

“No,” replies Maddox, dismounting and dismissing his mount with a word, causing it to fade out of existence with a burst of gray light. “It’s not uncommon for the fanatics of the Emerald Claw to fight to the death.”

“Or the unconsciousness, like these two,” says Gareth, indicating the only two survivors, both lying bloody and senseless on the deck.

The conversation is suddenly interrupted by a soft whoosh, followed by the crackling that accompanies the reappearance of the flaming ring that encircles the elemental support struts. Wash, who has remained at the helm, smiles in relief and pleasure at the sight, but the smile fades instantly as a voice squawks from the conical contraption near him, which leads to a speaking trumpet in the princess’ chamber. After a startled few seconds of listening, he shouts, “There’s been an attack in Haydith’s room!”

“Sh*t!” In unison, the Angels and Maddox rush for the hatchway leading down. Six and Korm make it through first, narrowly followed by Nameless and Gareth. None of them stop at the crunching sound and loud ursine swearing that signals Luna getting stuck, followed instantly by the angry shout of Maddox for her to get out of the way.

Around the corner the Angels find three of the Karrnathi guards standing before what was once the doorway to the antechamber before Haydith’s and the diplomats’ rooms, now mostly just a wooden framework after Nameless smashed his way through it as a warforged titan. In front of the guards lie two figures – one wearing the same livery as them, and a second, dressed as the _Serenity_’s crewmembers are. The latter’s body has almost been hacked in two, clearly by the bloodied swords of the guards. Which are quickly lifted in alarm as the Angels appear, and then hastily lowered. 

“This man tried to enter and attacked…,” begins the leader of the guards, before realizing that none of the adventurers are slackening their speed. The guards hurriedly flatten themselves on either side of the corridor even before Gareth’s curt, “Get out of the way!”

The Angels rush past the guards and through the curtain which has now replaced the defunct door on the princess’ room, to find Haydith and her servitors backed up against the far wall. Her attendants all have daggers and short swords drawn as they form a rough half-circle between her and the doorway, and Haydith holds a rapier. Her pale but determined face momentarily hardens as the curtain is dashed aside by those entering, and then crumples with relief and joy. As her attendants relax, she breaks through their circle and meets Gareth halfway, clasping his armored arm in a half-hug. “What happened out there?”

Korm replies, “We beat up the Emerald Claw. And a lich in a little red dress, though she got away. But we killed her boyfriend.”

Haydith frowns in slight confusion and says, “I’m glad you’re all fine,” eyes lingering on Gareth’s bloodstained armor before flickering to Korm’s ashen face and Nameless’ scorched chest. “But I meant what just happened outside my room.”

“Some crewman attempted to enter here and attacked your guards, I think,” explains Gareth, “But they took him down.”

“I’ll check on it,” says Six, even as Maddox and a smaller Luna enter the chamber. He turns and strides out, his armor of shadow trailing slightly in his wake. Emerging from the chamber, he looks at the leading guard. “The princess is safe. And the Emerald Claw have been dealt with. So exactly what happened here?”

“There were two guards here, as usual, and with the attack, Sir Maddox dispatched the two of us to join them too. Only moments ago, that man,” he points at the dead crewman, “Hurried toward us and said the Captain had sent him with an urgent message to the Princess. I thought that was suspicious and said he’d have to give me the message, but he tried to rush in. When we stopped him, he drew a dagger and stabbed Razz before we cut him down. Killed the poor guy instantly. See?”

Six kneels to examine the dagger, still clutched in the killer’s hand. Half of its blade is covered in a tarry substance, evidently some fast-acting poison. Both the assassin and the guard are completely dead. The warforged proceeds to search the man, finding a _handy haversack_, which contains a number of scrolls, two vials of poison, and a red crystal. 

By now, the others have joined Six, and Nameless looks over the items with his glowing eyes. “Interesting,” the alienist says. “That haversack’s definitely the same as our magical ones, but it doesn’t detect as such to me. Ah – it must be a _magic aura_ spell. Very sneaky! I probably saw it when we gave the ship a going-over earlier, but that’s why I didn’t detect it as anything unusual.” He goes over the scrolls. “_Undetectable alignment_, _misdirection_ – I’m guessing he didn’t have any magical ability, especially since he has no spell components, and was making do with these scrolls if needed.”

Finally, Nameless picks up the red gem and examines it carefully. He furrows his brow thoughtfully for a few seconds and then finally says, “I’ve never actually seen one of these before, but from the appearance, the faint divination aura and the fact this person was carrying it, I’ll bet a fair bit that this is part of a _farspeaking amulet_. It’s a magical communication device. Each amulet has four red crystals that the amulet-wearer can give to others, and he can later speak with them via the crystals, at any distance. And I’ll bet he was relaying information about our position and other things through this.”

Gareth frowns. “Can the wearer see us? Or could we get him to communicate with us and find out about him?”

“No, he can’t see us. But it’s not much of an option, since he’ll realize whom he’s speaking to immediately. And he can recall any of the gems to him with a thought.” Nameless tosses and catches the gem. “Which is why I suggest we stick it in one of our _haversack_s or a _bag of holding_. Then he – or she, if it’s the lich – can’t get it back.”

“Works for me,” says Six, taking it and stowing the crystal away accordingly.

“I think it’s time we prepared our spells,” says Korm, rubbing a hand wearily over his face, still ashen after being _enervate_d by the lich. “I could really use a _restoration_, Gareth.”

“All right,” says the paladin, “But then Nameless has to prepare a _sending_ for me. I was going to contact Lalia, and I can’t both heal you and do that as well.”

“How romantic,” says Nameless dryly. “Fine – I’ll do that.”

But it’s Nameless who receives a _sending_, hearing the slight pressure in his head that signals the beginning of such a communication, followed by a familiar voice. He looks away from the symbols that he has been studying, which continue to float in the air before him thanks to the magical necklace they recovered months ago on the island near Xen’drik, and says, “Message from Trillia,” and then proceeds to repeat it. “You all okay? What happened with job? And did you really sink Prince Ryger’s ships in Principalities? Read details yesterday in Chronicle and was concerned.”

“Huh?” Korm looks around. “What ships? We’ve been sinking ships?”

“Hell, no!” growls Luna. “If you bozos went sinking ships without me, you’d be sorry! And what are these Principalities?”

“They’re the island nation to the east of the Mror Holds,” says Gareth, frowning at the news. “How do you not know this stuff? Every schoolchild in the Five Nations does.”

Luna shrugs massively and opens her mouth, but is interrupted by Nameless’ response, spoken aloud, to Trillia. “We are doing fine. Just decimated Emerald Claw. Did not sink ships. Wish you were here.” He pauses and then adds, “Watch out for lich in little red dress.”

Six shakes his head. “That is really reassuring for her and not at all confusing, I’m sure.”

“I thought it’s better she at least be warned, just in case this Emrena decides to attack us through people we know. I’d venture that she’s currently quite unhappy with me. And probably Luna.”

Luna shrugs again, this time with a pleased grin, and says, “Screw the lich. Tell me more about these ships we’re supposed to have sunk.”

Between them, Gareth and Nameless proceed to explain that the Lhazaar Principalities are a loose coalition of islands forming a lawless, pirate nation to the east of the dwarven nation of the Mror Holds, which themselves border Karrnath to the east. Prince Ryger ir’Wynarn is the most powerful prince, claiming rulership of the Principalities, and the motive force behind the delegation that won the Principalities recognition as a nation at Thronehold after the Last War. His fleet is known as the Seadragons.

“So why are we supposed to have sunk this guy’s ships?”

“You know as much as I do,” points out Nameless. Gareth adds, “What I want to know is why the Chronicle printed something that’s untrue. We don’t need more people unhappy with us.”

“It’s a newspaper. What do you expect? Something like this would be news. Anyhow, let’s wait till we can get a newspaper and check the details.”

“All right,” says Gareth. “Now are you done preparing the _sending_?”

In a few more minutes Nameless is, and he casts the spell and delivers Gareth’s message. “Doing okay. Job is going well. Beat up Emerald Claw. Hope all fine there. Missing you. Don’t worry about the lich.” Gareth grins and points out, “Remember, she never even saw me, since she was under the airship with you guys.”

“I noticed,” says Nameless, before relaying Lalia’s response. “Lich? What lich? Happy to know you’re okay. Hope you’re back soon. Read some strange stuff about the Angels in Korranberg Chronicle. Also, what lich?!”

“I can see that ‘don’t fear the lich’ or something of the kind is going to be our byline from now on,” comments Six.

Luna chuckles and then turns to Nameless. “Can’t you just do a _greater teleport_ back to Sharn, pick up a copy of the Chronicle for us, and come back?”

“I could, but with our luck and that being Sharn, I’ll have to throw on a series of protective spells and disguise myself just to buy a paper. Let’s just wait till we reach Korth and get one. We may be in a land currently under martial law, full of necromancers, with corpses walking around, and terrorists lurking everywhere, but it’s probably safer than Sharn.”

“Hey!” says Gareth aggrievedly, feeling moved to defend his homeland. Then, he shrugs and grins wryly. “Okay, that may all be true, but – Hey!”

* * * * *
Surprisingly, the rest of the trip passes uneventfully. The _Serenity_ heads directly south-east, passing over the western edge of the gigantic forests that make up the Karrnwood. Eventually it flies over the space of about a hundred miles between the Karrnwood and the smaller Nightwood to the south-east, and turns south to fly along the Karrn river until it reaches the capital of Karrnath late in the afternoon.

As the walls of Korth emerge in the distance and move closer, those on deck see that it stands in stark contrast to that of Fairhaven. The Aundairan capital has a strongly aesthetic quality to it, full of lofty towers and freestanding buildings that reach for the sky, dominated by the alabaster spires of Queen Aurala’s palace, Fairhold. Korth, on the other hand, squats darkly above the King’s Bay from its perch on a series of cliffs beside the Karrn River. Everything about the city is massive and ponderous, from King Kaius’ fortress-palace of Crownhome, built like a giant wall between two towering rock spires, to the city buildings themselves, many of which take up entire city blocks on their own. Granite walls of surpassing thickness and strength guard the city, just as two island fortresses do the bay, a physical explanation of why Korth never fell to an invader during the Last War despite suffering multiple sieges. 

As the _Serenity_ heads over the wall and towards the Lyrandar docking tower, Nameless points out what seemed at a distance to be the tallest tower in the city but is now revealed to be a thirteen-storey building floating above the center of a lightly-wooded park below. “The Tower of the Twelve. That’s where the dragonmarked houses send their most skilled people and where their finest inventions are researched.”

Luna snorts. “Show-offs! Why do they get all the floating towers?”

Nobody answers, most of them probably focused on their relief that she doesn’t choose to fly off and buzz the Tower to make a point. And there are quickly things to occupy them as the airship comes into docking position. It’s time for Haydith to disembark, and the Angels and the others who are to accompany her quickly collect their possessions and make ready.

Less than fifteen minutes later, the large group is inside Lyrandar Tower, being escorted by a squad of the White Lions city guard and a few of the Conqueror’s Host, the king’s personal guard. The head of the escort is a matronly looking woman. With her gray hair in a tight bun and plainly cut clothes, she looks like a typical Karrn courtier, but the initial impression is belied by the faint blade-scars on her pallid face and the corded muscles on her forearms. Gareth quietly identifies her to the others as Moranna ir’Wynarn, aunt to King Kaius III, who ruled the nation with an iron fist while he was too young to do so, and whom he has asked to serve as his right-hand woman and retain the rank of Regent. She is well-known as possessing some necromantic powers, which she uses to give herself an undead pallor as well as some of their immunities.

The journey to the palace is a quick one. As they pass through the streets of Karrnath, the Angels note that Korth is somewhat less impressive at close quarters. Many of the buildings clearly show their age, appearing many centuries old, their partly crumbling exteriors decorated with the style and arts of a bygone age. Their sheer size also creates a lack of space and a sense of congestion, and many of the twisting streets are heavily crowded, though the path taken by their carriages has been kept completely clear by the guards. With the overhanging clouds and the coldness of the Karrnathi weather at this time of year, there is a sense of oppressiveness that was not present in Aundair or Breland.

At the palace, things are only moderately better. Haydith is quickly whisked off by Moranna, while the Angels are escorted to some comfortable, if sparsely furnished, quarters, where they are asked to wait. They note, as they go, that there seem to be soldiers or guards present in much greater quantity here in Karrnath, underlining the nation’s existence under martial law.

Once they are on their own, the Angels quickly check the previous day’s Korranberg Chronicle, which they picked up immediately after disembarking. As mentioned by Trillia and Lalia, there is an article on them, headed “Magical Attack in Regalport.” The article says that the Angels “who had magically departed Sharn on the 15th, and were seen acting as an escort for Princess Haydith ir’Wynarn when she stopped at Aundair on the 19th, evidently on the way back to Karrnath,” have been accused of an attack on part of the fleet of Prince Ryger ir’Wynarn. The article goes on to describe how four ships of the Seadragons were attacked by three flying figures even as they were docking at the Prince’s capital of Regalport on the island of Greentarn, on the 17th. After bombarding the ships with powerful evocations and summoning multiple elemental creatures, the trio proceeded to board one of the ships, slaying whoever they encountered. They emerged soon after, one carrying a large chest, and swiftly flew away, leaving their summoned creatures to continue wreaking havoc. Two ships were sunk and hundreds of people, including Seadragons and people on the docks, slain. Some watchers who have been in Sharn identified the figures, which apparently consisted of a gigantic flying bear, a big orc who flew with the aid of two large leathery wings, and a warforged wielding a spiked chain, as members of the famous Guardian Angels (namely Luna, Korm’akhan and Mithral Six of Six).

Gareth sighs. “That really does sound like you guys. On the bright side, seems I’m not involved again, just like with the lich.”

“Shut up,” growls Luna. “And keep reading, Nameless.”

The Chronicle goes on to say that Prince Ryger has sworn vengeance for this unprovoked attack and has contacted both the Brelish representative in Regalport as well as the Sentinel Marshals, asking for the Angels to be brought to justice. He has also threatened to offer a bounty on their heads if official channels do not work. The Chronicle has not discovered what is in the chest that was taken, but rumors say that the four ships had been near Trebez Sinara to the north when an unexpected rain of Siberys shards had occurred, and may have collected many, which is what was stolen.

“What’s Trebez Sinara?” asks Korm. “I’m not familiar with that name. Some island?”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “It’s one of the deserted islands of the Principalities, rumored to hide loot from thousands of years of pirate raids as well as tombs dating back to the time when humans first came to this continent. But it’s surrounded by reefs and inhabited by all sorts of terrible monsters, so it’s rarely visited.”

Luna shakes her head. “I don’t get how you’re smart enough to know this crap, but when I ask you to describe that Xoriat place you keep talking of, all you can say is it’s purple! You’re weird!”

Nameless smiles enigmatically, reaching out with his tentacled arm to stroke Edgar, perched like an arachnid rock on his knee. “I’m amazed anyone would think that of me.”

“More importantly,” says Gareth, “What do we do about this situation? I still don’t like the fact that the KC printed this, but it seems they weren’t the people who identified us as such. Either way, we need to clear our names.”

“I wonder if a visit to the Principalities to do that would be worth it,” muses Korm. “Nameless can’t transport us there, since he hasn’t been there – right?” The alienist shakes his head and the Gatekeeper continues. “But Luna and I could pick a likely type of tree and use a _transport via plants_, which would put us a few hundred miles off at worst.”

“Let’s save that for the future, shall we?” says Gareth. “I’d rather get our story in the paper first and do that afterwards, so that we aren’t jumped by people trying to kill us as soon as we get there.”

“Rare as it may be,” quips Six, “I’ve got to agree with Gareth.”

While the paladin gives the naturally impassive warforged a glare, Nameless points out, “I can just take us all back to Sharn whenever we’re free, so we could take care of things then.”

“Sounds like a plan,” says Luna. “Anyway, that’s long enough. I’m exploring. Anyone want to come along?”

Gareth rolls his eyes. “That is _not_ a good idea. This isn’t Breland, or even Aundair. Things are a little more … restrictive in Karrnath.”

“Gah – then I hate it already!” Luna jumps to her feet and walks towards the door. Stepping outside, she’s confronted by one of a quartet of guards flanking the door. “Please,” says the guard, “Remain inside. You will be called for shortly.”

“I’m bored,” says Luna, as if that explains it all. “I need to stretch my legs.”

Remaining just as polite and firm as before, the guard simply reiterates, “I am sorry, but I have my orders. You are all to remain here for the time being.”

Luna growls and her shoulders hunch. “Make me!”

“LUNA!!” comes a chorus from behind her. The shifter growls again, this time in disappointment, and grumbles, “Fine, fine – I’ll go back in. Sheesh!” Then, seeing a couple of attendants with trays of refreshments approaching, she cheers up slightly. “At least that’s something.”

The Angels settle down to eat and drink, especially enjoying the selections of bread and cheeses, including the Karrn bitter cheese which is more than worth its weight in silver in foreign markets. The addition of the equally popular – and costly – Nightwood ale makes the meal good enough to distract even Luna.

Moments after they finish and wash up, a court functionary arrives to ask the Angels to accompany him, saying that Regent Moranna needs to speak with them before their audience with King Kaius.


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:
			
		

> “Huh?” Korm looks around. “What ships? We’ve been sinking ships?”




Poor guys... this is what you get for dealing with Mordain...  I hope they wreak bloody vengeance upon him and his crazy abberation-flavored minions...


----------



## Sidekick

Hey Shil - nice work!

Good to see that Mordain is puting his Angel flavoured lackeys to good work!

I think that a fight between the Angels and a Sentinel Marshal detention team would be very very funny.

The Marshals would have to break out their BIG guns in rder to even stand a chance against the angels.

Eagerly awaiting the next update!

Also good to see that you're back. Hope you enjoyed the holiday and managed to find it suitably relaxing (when not marking etc)


----------



## Vorput

Sidekick said:
			
		

> Hey Shil - nice work!
> 
> Good to see that Mordain is puting his Angel flavoured lackeys to good work!




We're assuming it's Mordain ofc... didn't this happen to Namless once before and it just be an illusion?


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Poor guys... this is what you get for dealing with Mordain... I hope they wreak bloody vengeance upon him and his crazy abberation-flavored minions...




Wait a minute - aren't the Angels pretty high on the aberration-flavored list themselves? Tentacles instead of arms, embedded symbionts, aspect of the aberration ... the list goes on and on.



			
				Sidekick said:
			
		

> Hey Shil - nice work!




Thanks.



> Good to see that Mordain is puting his Angel flavoured lackeys to good work!




As Vorput noted, possibly. And no, I'm not saying 



> I think that a fight between the Angels and a Sentinel Marshal detention team would be very very funny.
> 
> The Marshals would have to break out their BIG guns in rder to even stand a chance against the angels.




Oh god, yes! Would be even funnier if Lalia and Tasra and the Sharn Sentinel Marshals were given the job of bringing them in. Alas, the Angels are working hard to prevent that, as you'll see in the next update.



> Eagerly awaiting the next update!
> 
> Also good to see that you're back. Hope you enjoyed the holiday and managed to find it suitably relaxing (when not marking etc)




Actually had no grading over the break, and did way too little actual work on the dissertation, so it was almost all R&R. Very nice. And since I have a long Labor Day weekend with no grading yet, I should be able to churn out the next update by mid-week.



			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> We're assuming it's Mordain ofc... didn't this happen to Namless once before and it just be an illusion?




Yup. That's something one of the PCs (Gareth, I think) brought up when they were discussing the different possibilities. Or, as someone else put it, "This world has gnomes. That means it could be anybody or anything!"


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:
			
		

> Wait a minute - aren't the Angels pretty high on the aberration-flavored list themselves? Tentacles instead of arms, embedded symbionts, aspect of the aberration ... the list goes on and on.




Good point... how does Korm sleep at night?


----------



## zerotkatama

I would imagine that part of him sleeps just fine. The other part... not so much.


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Good point... how does Korm sleep at night?






			
				zerotkama said:
			
		

> I would imagine that part of him sleeps just fine. The other part... not so much.




  

Couldn't have said it better myself.

I was working on the next update today and caught myself grinning from ear to ear a couple of times while doing so. My players really do say/do the weirdest crap. I'll probably have it up on Tuesday. We actually ended up having a no-combat session last time, but we're going to be making up for it next session (upcoming weekend). The Guardian Angels decided they haven't pissed off the Emerald Claw enough, so they're going to be going after an Emerald Claw operation masquerading as a Blood of Vol temple. This should be fun


----------



## shilsen

Regent Moranna meets the Angels in a plainly appointed meeting room, the only decoration a small banner which hangs above her chair, bearing Karrnath’s national symbol of a roaring lion in red. “Please be seated,” she says as they enter. “On behalf of the Crown, I would like to thank you for your services in protecting Princess Haydith from the Emerald Claw. The fact that you captured two members of the Claw was even more creditable. Naturally, we wish to know as much as we can about the attack and the events during the trip. I’ve already spoken to Maddox, but I would like to hear your version of events too, especially since some of you fought the leaders of the attack without anyone else to see it. Please tell me everything that you can.”

The Angels proceed to expand on the details of the attack, as well as on some of the preceding events, such as the elementals in the hold, the shadow attack, and the vampire assassins. Moranna listens and makes a few notes, asking a couple of questions here and there. When they are done, she nods. “Thank you. Something I’d also like to know about is the situation with Ambassador Theda Bara and her murder of Gustavus Thul.” Her gaze fixes itself on Gareth. “I believe you magically scanned her mind after taking her prisoner. What did you learn?”

A little surprised at the sudden change of tack, Gareth says, “Very little. There was something, some secret, she was very concerned about and feared Gustavus was about to reveal, which is why she killed him. All I know is that she seemed terrified at the prospect of it coming out. She begged us to let King Kaius question and try her, and Haydith told us to, so I stopped probing after that.”

“And that is all you learned. Are you certain?”

Though a little nettled at her tone, Gareth says politely, “Yes. I have told you all I know.”

Moranna makes a small note again. “Thank you. Lastly, please hand over whatever you recovered from the body of Arkhandus and from any of the slain members of the Emerald Claw.”

“We found nothing!” Luna responds quickly. _You’re NOT getting our loot!_

Moranna turns to fix the druid with a cold stare, but Luna simply stares back. After a pause of a couple of seconds, the Regent says, “Why would you lie about that?”

Gareth sighs and begins, “What my compa…,” but Luna angrily cuts him off. “Listen, lady! We just risked our lives saving your princess. A couple of us really got the crap beat out of them and almost died. And we’re not being paid for this job, which is something I did _not_ know when we accepted it,” she turns to bestow a glare at the others, before turning back to Moranna, “So I’m just not that keen on giving up whatever few trinkets we collected. See?” She pauses, glances at Gareth, and uses the phrase he used with such telling effect with Ythana Morr. “With regret, of course.”

There is pin-drop silence for a couple of seconds and then Moranna leans forward and speaks, her tone calm but clipped, “You must be harboring a misconception. We are not taking your … trinkets. We simply wished to examine them and see what information, if any, we can gain about the attackers.”

Luna snorts. “Oh, please! Whatever there was to learn from them we’ve already got. We’ve got a fricking super-genius,” she gestures at Nameless and then, as he sits silently, turns to snap, “Well, tell her! You’re always telling _us_ how awesome your brain is!”

Nameless looks at Moranna and shrugs. “Please forgive my comrade. She’s strongly attracted to shiny objects and reacts poorly to any sort of demands, especially if they involve giving up any such objects.”

“Nevertheless,” says Moranna, her voice if possible even more clipped, “We would like to examine them. As I said, they shall be returned to you afterwards.”

Six silently removes the magical adamantine gauntlet, formerly worn by Arkhandus, from his right hand and places it on the table. Luna gives him a glare and then raises her hands above her head. “Fine, fine – take them! But I’ll be counting them!”

“I’m sure you will,” says Moranna dryly. A few minutes later, the Angels exit the room, leaving her sitting beside a small pile of equipment.

* * * * *

A little over an hour after they return to their room, though it seems a little longer with Luna’s grousing, the Angels are asked to head to the throne room. Before they leave, Luna says, “Listen – I’m sure you idiots will complain if I say anything much there, so can you do that telepathy thing you did once, Nameless?” 

“Yes, I can,” says Nameless. “Luckily, I prepared one today. Good idea.” He casts the spell and then they leave. A squad of White Lions escort them through a labyrinth of twisting corridors, until they reach a set of stairs where two members of the Conqueror’s Host stand on guard. 

Proceeding up the stairs and through a curtain at the end, they emerge into what seems a small audience chamber. The Angels look around in puzzlement for a moment, finding themselves midway up a hall that ends at a blank wall, but then a gesture from the guard captain makes them turn, to see that they had actually emerged midway up the chamber, from underneath the throne of King Kaius, with him above and behind them. It is clearly a special architectural feature designed to confuse visitors and put them off their guard.

The Angels are quickly ushered to their places amidst the small gathering. Now that they can see all of it, they realize that the audience chamber is larger than they first thought, but still smaller than they would have expected after seeing Aurala’s grandiose chamber at Fairhaven, and significantly more austere. Maps of Khorvaire cover the walls, but there is almost no other decoration. In keeping with the rest of the chamber, King Kaius sits on a relatively unmarked iron throne, decorated only with the arms of Karrnath. The king is a tall clean-shaven man with a head of short, iron-gray hair, his sharply featured face even darker than the traditional Karrnathi complexion. A little incongruously, a board for the game of conqueror, a Karrnathi favorite, sits at Kaius’ right hand, the pieces on its black-and-white squares evidently in the middle of a game.

Haydith sits near her brother in a smaller, wooden chair, and Regent Moranna stands near him. Once the Angels have taken their positions, she turns to the King and he arises, his movements calm and economical, but implying an underlying strength and athleticism that belies his age. Kaius’ voice too is deliberate and methodical, but with resonant power held firmly in check, as he says, “People of Karrnath and visitors from afar, I am pleased that you are here with me to welcome back my dear sister, Haydith, after her long sojourn abroad.” He turns to Haydith and extends a hand, which she accepts, making a short bow and smiling prettily, causing the crowd to applaud and cheer in unison, as if on cue. The Angels too applaud politely. 

Kaius then seats himself and Moranna steps forward, asking the Angels to step forward. As they move forward to stand before the thrones, the others have to restrain themselves from grinning or groaning as Luna’s voice says in their heads, _“This is when we get a reward, right? Anyone see any presents? Anyone?”_ More surprising is the deep bow that Luna makes to the King, which the others swiftly do too, as indicated by a small gesture from Moranna. 

As they straighten, the Regent says, “The throne of Karrnath commends the Guardian Angels of Sharn, who have lived up to their name in protecting Princess Haydith from multiple attempts on her life by the Emerald Claw.” Haydith smiles happily from her throne at the Angels, which causes Luna to somewhat spoil the solemnity of the proceedings by grinning back and waving.

Completely ignoring the gesture, Moranna continues, “During their voyage to Karrnath, the Guardian Angels also apprehended the diplomat Theda Bara, who murdered her compatriot Gustavus Thul over a matter of petty jealousy. King Kaius has considered her case and, in view of the heinous crime but considering her previous service to Karrnath, has sentenced her to a merciful and swift execution, which shall be carried out immediately.”

_“Damn! That’s what passes for merciful here? What happened to twenty years hard labor and things like that?”_ Korm transmits to the others, causing Six to respond, _“Considering where we are, it’s probably execution first and then twenty years hard labor.”_ Even Gareth can’t help chuckling at that.

Meanwhile, Moranna falls silent and returns to her original position. Kaius now speaks, leaning slightly sideways and considering the Angels through cold gray eyes, his tone again calm and deliberate. “As Moranna said, I thank you for protecting my sister. And now, I wonder, how might Karrnath reward you?”

_“Ooh, ooh – ask him for magic stuff!”_ Luna’s voice shouts in the others’ heads. _“Especially magical jewelry! And an airship? Can he give us an airship?”_ Gareth sighs inwardly and transmits back. _“That’s not how this works. Don’t worry – we’ll be rewarded.”_ Then he bows again, before saying, “Seeing the princess delivered safely here is all the recompense we need, sire, though we are gratified at your thanks.”

_“NOOOOO!!! Don’t say that!!!”_

Kaius says nothing in reply for a moment, but there’s a faint flicker of amusement in his eyes. Then he says, “Even so, you have earned my thanks, and I shall have to think on a suitable reward. But, for now, come forward…” He rises and Moranna steps to his side, a flat casket appearing in her hands from somewhere, which she opens. 

_“What’s in the box? Can any of you see? Is it jewelry? I can’t see!”_

The Angels are asked to come forward one by one, and Kaius himself takes a medal from the box and pins it on each of them, while Moranna announces that the King is bestowing the Iron Cross of the King’s Knights, in recognition of exemplary valor in protection of the throne and the royal family. The decoration is a simple ribbon in red and black, which supports a cross-shaped iron medal, bearing the arms of Karrnath.

_“A medal? The son of a bitch gave us a f*cking medal! If that’s all we get, Gareth – I am going to eat you!”_

Once the honors have been bestowed, the audience is quickly ended and the Angels are again escorted away by their guards. After a couple of minutes, as they move through the winding corridors, Nameless comments telepathically, _“We’re not going back to our rooms.”_ 

He is quickly proved correct, as they group arrives at a room and are ushered in to find Moranna again waiting for them. As is the pile of magic items which she had taken from them. “Here are your items,” she says without preamble. “You are supposed to accompany Princess Haydith on her return to Wroat, which shall occur in a fortnight. In the interim, you are free to go where you wish in Karrnath. What do you plan to do in the interim?”

“I think,” Gareth says, “We will be heading back to Sharn tonight. And we also plan to visit my family. We might also visit the Principalities, since we’ve had some news about us being falsely implicated in a crime there.” 

“Yes, I read about that. You plan to return to Sharn? How are you planning to travel?”

Nameless lifts a hand and says simply, “Me.”

“I see. Clearly your abilities live up to your reputation. I presume then you will not need any arrangement to be made for transport to Gareth’s family.”

“No,” says Nameless. “But I’d appreciate it if you could leave the quarters we occupied today vacant. I may have to _teleport_ us in and out and there might be trouble if people are occupying them or furniture is moved around.”

“Very well,” says Moranna. “They shall be left empty and free for your use until your departure with the Princess. Also, in view of your encounters with the Emerald Claw…”

_“I knew it! She’s going to give us a job!”_

“…, the King and I are curious whether you would be interested in working against them in some way. It might be profitable for you, and the King would certainly be appreciative. And since…”

_“Say ‘No!’ Say ‘No!’”_

“…you seem to be relatively free and able to travel thousands of miles with ease, it should not take too much time away from whatever else you might want to do.”

_“Say ‘NO!’ Say ‘NO!’”_

Gareth nods. “We would certainly consider it…,”

_“MOTHERF*CKER!”_

“…but the precise nature of the assignment would affect whether we could accept it or not. If you would inform us what you had in mind, then I could give you a reply.”

“Thank you,” says Moranna. “I shall see what I can come up with. If you return here after meeting your family, I could discuss it with you. Two days, I presume, will be sufficient.” Gareth nods and Moranna makes a note of it, before rising. As she is walking out, she glances at the fulminating Luna, and says, “Your friend looks ill,” before leaving.

Luna snarls at her and then walks over to slam the door, before rounding on Gareth. “Are you freaking nuts?! What did you get us involved with them for?”

“We’re already involved with them, remember? It’s safe to say that this Emrena wants Nameless dead and probably you too. And when did you ever draw the line at blowing things up? These people are terrorists, they kill innocent people, and they practice particularly foul necromancy. Sounds like perfect targets to me.”

Luna’s arms windmill as she shouts, “They’re part of an organization! I _hate_ getting involved with organizations! You kill one bunch and someone else gets upset and more show up and you keep killing them and it … it just gets complicated. Show me a lich in a crypt and I’ll kick her ass from Sul to Sar! But I don’t want to be trying to destroy a group!”

Gareth shakes his head. “The Emerald Claw was around before you were born and will likely be there after you’re dead, but …”

“That’s my point! Organizations are tough to take out completely!”

Gareth sighs and turns to the others. “What do you think?”

“It seems to me,” Six says thoughtfully, “That this Lhazaar issue is a more immediate one. Let’s get back to Sharn and deal with it first, and then we can consider the Emerald Claw.”

“All right. Nameless, can we leave now?”

“Sure.”

* * * * *
Just over an hour later, Evetius Balich, purportedly the ambassador from the Lhazaar Principalities to Sharn but more accurately the representative of Prince Ryger, is disturbed at his evening meal by a loud knocking on his door. His steward leaves and returns in a few moments, significantly paler than he left. “Master – it’s the Guardian Angels! And they look upset!”

Evetius almost spits out the food in his mouth. “What? Oh…” _…Sh*t! I thought they were in Karrnath!_ After a few seconds of hurried thought, he sends the steward off to let them in, then stops the man, rises and follows quickly behind him.

Outside, the Angels are wondering how long to wait, when the door opens, to reveal a worried-looking man and behind him, a slightly less worried and significantly better dressed gentleman. The latter says, “Greetings. I’m Evetius Balich. How may I help you?”

Gareth holds up a copy of the Korranberg Chronicle. “We need to talk about this article. Can we come in?”

Evetius swallows and then nods, somehow keeping a pleasant smile on his face, and ushers the Angels into the nearby living room. As soon as he’s seated, Gareth says plainly, “We didn’t do it.”

“Ah!” Evetius hesitates, wondering how to say what he needs to without sounding like he doesn’t trust them. The stories about these people’s legendary violence indicate that he needs to be very careful. So, he finally says, “That’s interesting. Please tell me more.”

“We have no reason to attack Prince Ryger’s ships. And we were elsewhere at the time. Flying over Aundair with princess Haydith ir’Wynarn, to be precise.”

“I see. Do you perhaps have any … proof of your innocence? Someone who can vouch for you?”

“How about King Kaius of Karrnath?”

Evetius’ eyes go wide, and before he can respond, Luna puts in, “Don’t forget about the queen in Aundair.”

“Yes. Queen Aurala of Aundair too.”

“Ah!” _That changes things!_ Evetius steeples his fingers in thought and then says slowly, “Those are certainly … impressive references. Did the … ahem, monarchs, actually see you at the time of the attack?”

“No, but princess Haydith did. As well as just about the entire complement of the airship _Serenity_, since we were on board throughout the day that the attack supposedly happened.”

“Supposedly? Oh, the attack definitely occurred,” Evetius says, and then hastens to add, “But this information certainly changes things. I presume you’d like me to send it on to Regalport as soon as possible?”

“Yes. We’ll be taking care of getting our name cleared in the Chronicle.”

“That’s good. I’ll have a Sivis message sent off tonight itself, but it’ll take some time for it to get through, you understand. I’m glad you came to me with this. Prince Ryger, as you can imagine, is furious and he’ll be glad to know about this so that he can go after the actual culprits. Do you have any idea why you were the people impersonated?”

The Angels shakes their heads. Evetius quickly continues, “Since we are so far from the Principalities, would you be willing to speak to Prince Ryger about this? After my message gets through and he knows the reality of the situation, of course.”

“Certainly,” says Gareth. Luna shoots him a look and then shrugs and says, “Okay, but definitely after he finds out. Otherwise he might try attacking us and I doubt your fleet’s big enough to afford losing that many ships!”

Evetius simply smiles, making a mental note to add a line in the message to his master about the fact that at least a couple of the Angels are of dubious mental stability.

* * * * *
Half an hour later, the Angels are back in the Gray House, with Fett and Flim Turen. Their changeling assistant had departed to the local Chronicle office to fetch the gnome correspondent while they were speaking to Evetius. Now, Flim sits at a desk making copious notes about not only their innocence regarding the attack in Regalport but also everything that has happened on their voyage. 

“So how soon can you have that in the paper?”

Flim considers and says, “We probably won’t have space for all the details of your voyage, but as for the Principalities thing, I should be able to get it in the next one, coming out in two days. You guys definitely help sell papers. Of course, we’ll mention the voyage and the run-in with the Emerald Claw in passing.”

“Speaking of that,” Gareth says meditatively, “Could you put a message to the lich in the paper?”

Korm looks over. “A message? What did you have in mind?”

The paladin grins. “I just thought we should try and seriously piss her off. She’s probably already mad enough, but if we really get her upset, she may lose her head and attack us and give us the chance to deal with her once and for all.”

Flim looks curiously at him and says, “Hmm – we don’t normally just put messages in, but I could probably get it in a sidebar, as we use for the advertisements we get. And no, of course you don’t have to pay for it. What did you have in mind?”

“Give us a few moments.” The Angels talk amongst themselves for a few minutes, the discussion interspersed with bursts of laughter, and finally Gareth turns to the gnome. “All right, here goes – Dear Emrena: We’re sorry … oops, I mean really not sorry about killing your stupid boyfriend. Appreciate the magic items. Will you visit us and fill out our survey? And, by the way, red is out. Tacky, tacky, tacky!”

Flim notes it all down and then says what Evetius was thinking. “You guys are insane!”

Luna snorts. “You just got that? Anyway, tell me something – you’re an investigative reporter, right? Can’t you find out who the idiots impersonating us are?”

The gnome looks a little surprised and then laughs. “Well, I’m mostly just a reporter. Not so much on the investigation. And I’m here and the attacks happened a few thousand miles away, remember?”

“Phhfftt! A _real_ reporter wouldn’t let that stop him!”

Flim sighs. “I’ll do what I can. Do any of you have an idea who might have done it?”

Even as the others are shaking their heads, Korm and Nameless both speak up at the same time. “I just remembered….” And then they fall silent simultaneously.

“What? WHAT?!” Luna looks back and forth between them, looks at Flim, and snaps, “Oh, come on! Flim knows about as much about our lives as anyone else in the world. Now come on – what did you two remember?”

Nameless inclines his head, indicating the Gatekeeper should speak, and Korm does so slowly, a slightly worried expression on his face. “I just remembered the last time we saw someone who looked like one of us. Or rather, me. Remember when Mordain left us, just before Nameless brought us back, and we glimpsed someone looking just like me outside in the hallway as the door was closing?”

“Oh … yeah, right! You think it’s a clone of us flying around? Or clones?”

“Now, now,” Nameless corrects. “Remember, I just theorized that Mordain may have _clone_d us.”

Flim has been looking back and forth, and he finally asks, “Mordain? Who’s Mordain?”

Luna smiles happily. “Mordain the Fleshweaver. We went to him to ask about Name….” She pauses as four people cough sharply, gives them a look, and continues more or less smoothly, “To ask about some stuff and he did some totally brilliant augmentations for us.”

A blank page smoothly appears in front of Flim. “Tell me more.”

“Is this really a good idea?” asks Gareth.

“Hey, Mordain told us not to visit for a while, but he didn’t say to not mention him. And he’s such a nice guy too.” Luna then turns to Flim and proceeds to relate where Mordain stays, who he is, and that he provided the group with all sorts of magical augmentations, though she doesn’t mention the details. 

The reporter notes it all down, mentioning that while he probably won’t use any of it for some time, it may make a good future article on their adventures once the Chronicle completes the story of their adventures with the Shard. When Luna is done, he finally takes his leave, wishing the group the best of luck regarding the situation with Prince Ryger, promising again to do what he can with both getting their story out and finding out about the attack.

“All right,” says Gareth, once Flim leaves. “I’m off to Lalia. Don’t wait up for me.” Nameless too departs to speak with Trillia.

* * * * *
The next day, travelers along the House Orien trade road linking Korth to Karrlakton are surprised to see a group of five riders mounted on a collection of stags and steeds with smoky insubstantial hooves. The Angels’ _phantom stag_s and _steed_s race along at well over twenty miles an hour, leaving everything they pass, whether they be Orien coaches and caravans or riders on the swiftest of Vadalis mounts, in their wake. 

It is early evening when the Angels reach Karrlakton, birthplace of kings (both Karrn the Conqueror and Galifar I) and the second greatest city in Karrnath. Even more so than Korth, however, the city has a tinge of darkness and despair hanging over it that is palpable from a distance. The reason is easy to see. Across the Cyre River, whose northern bank Karrlakton’s fortress walls stand on, rises the wall of dead-grey mist, like a burial shroud thousands of miles long hanging over the corpse of what was once the Jewel of Galifar, and is now simply the Mournland. The two druids, who have never seen the Mournland before, gaze at it with morbid curiosity until Gareth turns his stag and rides around to the north of the city and Karrlakton’s bulk hides the remains of Cyre from their sight. As they pass, the paladin points out the gigantic tower that looms over the rest of Karrlakton. “That’s Sentinel Tower – the home of House Deneith. It’s where the central operations of the Defenders Guild and the Sentinel Marshals are.”

Gareth’s home is one among a number of small estates immediately to the north of the city, not far from the Orien trade road leading northeast to the city of Vedykar. It is flanked on one side by an artificial lake, and on the other by a much larger estate which has evidently fallen into serious disrepair. “Family lost everything in the War,” the paladin says succinctly, as they pass the buildings and half-fallen walls overgrown with moss and weeds, before stopping to gaze at the home that he has not been to in nearly a year. He takes a deep breath and says, “Come on!”

The Angels are met at the estate’s gates by an old guard, who peers at Gareth in surprise, and then turns and starts ringing a large bell frantically. As a couple of servants pop out of doors in the main building, he shouts, “Master Gareth is home! Tell the lady!” And then turns to hurriedly open the gates and invite the travelers in.

_Well, there goes the surprise!_ thinks Gareth wryly, before greeting his old servant. By the time he has managed to persuade the aged man that he is fine, more people are emerging from the building, and when the Angels ride up and dismount, a small group awaits them. 

At its head is a tall and attractive middle-aged woman with a head of auburn hair that is beginning to gray around the edges, followed a few steps behind by a shorter and much older lady. As Gareth hurries up, the surprised look on the taller woman’s face threatens to crumple into tears, but she masters herself and simply hugs him. The older lady simply stares at him with a stony look on her sharp features, and when he goes to hug her, she swiftly cuffs him on the head. “You haven’t written in nearly a month!” she snaps. 

“Yup,” says Luna. “That’s family all right!”

Gareth simply grins and bends to hug the older lady too, before gesturing his friends closer. “May I introduce you to the ladies of the house? This is my mother Elaine and my grandmother, Leanna.” As he proceeds to identify the Angels, his mother quickly welcomes them in, while the lady Leanna studies them with a critical expression.

As they walk in, Elaine says to her son, but making sure to include the others, “This is such a surprise! We read in the Korranberg Chronicle that you were escorting Princess Haydith so I was hoping to hear from you when you got to Karrnath, but not that you’d arrive here unannounced.”

“Which is why,” says Gareth with a happy grin. “I wanted to surprise you two.”

“You’ve lost weight,” comments his grandmother succinctly, striding along beside them with a posture that somehow reminds the Angels of Archierophant Ythana Morr.

“That reminds me,” interrupts Korm. He stops and reaches into his magical haversack to produce a large package. “I brought you a cake.”

“Luckily,” says Luna cheerily, “I brought _neutralize poison_.” 

With no sign of hearing the comment, Elaine says, “Oh, thank you! That reminds me – you’re just in time for supper. Let me just go check on things.” She walks off, staggering slightly under the weight of Korm’s cake. 

Leanna leads the group into a comfortable sitting room-cum-verandah that opens onto the gardens of the estate and orders some drinks for them. Then she seats herself and promptly begins to interrogate Gareth about his recent activities, adding a few corroborating questions for the others. While it’s likely from the old lady’s sparkling eyes that she is happy to see her grandson back, nothing else about her expression or demeanor reveals it. Elaine joins them a few minutes later, her eyes looking suspiciously as if she had stopped to cry along the way. Or maybe, as Luna not-so-quietly comments, she just got close to the cake.

Besides picking on Korm, Luna also quickly ingratiates herself with both mother and grandmother by proceeding to tell them all about what Gareth has been up to, dwelling with especially loving detail on his relationship with Lalia but not failing to mention that she thinks he’s been leading on princess Haydith too. The others quickly join in, causing Gareth to go from indignant self-defense to embarrassment to taking recourse in the drinks, which naturally leads to his grandmother pointing out that he drinks a lot more than when he left home.

Supper is soon served and the conversations continue, with the Angels finding themselves enjoying a truly domestic scene as a group for the first time that they can remember. Elaine is a perfect hostess, and once they manage to penetrate Leanna’s hard-boiled exterior, they find that the old lady is quite pleasant company, with a huge fund of interesting stories and, surprisingly, a wry sense of humor.

After the meal, Six suggests that the Angels could stay in Karrlakton to save Gareth’s family the bother, but is immediately overruled by Elaine, who points out that there are many rooms that see no use now that it’s just her mother-in-law and her at home, and there’s no way she’s letting any of Gareth’s friends stay elsewhere. When she excuses herself to take care of the accommodations, Luna invites herself along, claiming that she needs to talk to Elaine woman-to-woman about décor, since she is forced to live in a house with four men who have no idea what the word means. 

By the time they finally turn in for the night, the Angels are informed that they will be staying with Gareth’s family as long as they are in Karrnath. And given glasses of hot milk, since they are evidently all growing adventurers and need to take proper care of themselves.

* * * * *
Over breakfast the next day, the Angels check the Chronicle and find the article from Flim, titled “Angels Framed in Regalport Attack,” which announces exactly what they had wanted him to mention. It adds only that the KC has not yet been able to contact Prince Ryger for a response, but does have a statement from Evetius Balich saying that he has spoken to the Guardian Angels, is “reasonably convinced of their innocence,” and has sent a message to the Prince with that information. 

“So, should we go there now and try talking to this Ryger fellow?” asks Luna.

“Not yet, I think,” replies Gareth. “Give him a little time to get all the information, and frankly, I’d rather wait for an invitation. Anyway, here’s a bit more.” He points out a sidebar near the article containing the Angels’ message to the lich, which evokes great merriment in its creators. Unsurprisingly, neither Elaine nor Leanna are equally amused, but are slightly mollified y Gareth’s promise to be careful, and more so by the others’ promise to look after him.

After breakfast, the Angels excuse themselves for a bit, Nameless _teleport_ing them back to Korth for the meeting with Moranna. As before, the Regent gets straight to the point. “As some of you may know, certain members of the Emerald Claw are worshippers of the Blood of Vol. We have located a particular Emerald Claw cell that exists under the guise of being a temple of the Blood. I would like you to eliminate it.” She glances around the group silently and then adds, “In view of what I’ve heard and read of your abilities, am I correct in assuming that subterfuge is not your forte?”

“Absolutely correct!”

“Understood. In that case, simply entering the temple and destroying the cultists within will do.”

“Where is this temple located?” asks Nameless. “I presume you can provide enough detailed information for me to be able to transport us safely there.”

“Yes. I have had a spy infiltrate the organization, who has been able to provide the description of the single room in the temple that one can use teleportation magic in and out of, though it’s very rarely utilized. The rest of the temple is warded against such magic. And the temple is located in Atur.”

“The City of Night,” Gareth explains, seeing the blank expressions on some of his friends’ faces. “Northeast of here. It’s the location of the Crimson Monastery, the largest temple of the Blood of Vol in the world. That’s the primary faith in the city.”

“Yes,” says Moranna, her tone expressing mild distaste. “This particular temple is comparatively much smaller, on the outskirts of Atur, attracting those living too far from the Monastery. It is, however, in enough of a populated area that sending in a number of guardsmen to wipe out the place would draw a lot of unwelcome attention – not to mention require substantial resources. For people of your skills, it should be substantially easier. If you enter it during the daytime, especially early in the day, it should be relatively devoid of worshippers, with only the cultists present.”

“Is there any more information you can give us?” asks Nameless.

“Yes. The temple is actually used as a laboratory for necromantic experiments by the Emerald Claw, which means you can expect to run into multiple forms of intelligent undead. While slaying any and all cultists, and especially any undead, that you encounter should be a goal, your primary aims should be twofold. Slay the high priestess of the temple, a woman called Theda. Yes, the same as the ambassador. And secondly, find the main laboratory and destroy anything you find there. My spy – who will be well away when you arrive, so you need not fear slaying him by mistake – also mentioned that the temple is under a permanent _desecrate_ effect.”

“So undead there will be somewhat stronger,” says Nameless.

“Yes. Is that – or anything else – a problem?”

“Not for me,” says Gareth, looking around for his companions’ opinions. Luna, who has been slouched silently in her chair, speaks up, “So what are we getting for this?”

Moranna eyes the druid for a long moment and then says, “Presumably you should be able to recover a significant amount of wealth from the temple, not just in coin but in magical equipment.”

“Yeah, yeah – but we’re still doing you a favor, right? You should be paying us!”

Moranna’s tone grows significantly colder, but she nods. “Very well. I shall see what I can add to the reward you will _already_ be getting from the King.”

“Excellent. In that case – I’m in.”

The Regent turns to Nameless and hands him a sheet of paper. “That should be an accurate enough description for you. I suggest making your attack early tomorrow morning. Make it fast and once you have dispatched the high priestess and destroyed the laboratory, leave immediately.”

“Understood.”

Moranna rises and says, “If you do this successfully, you shall find the throne of Karrnath even more well-disposed towards you than it already is.” Then she turns and leaves.

“All right,” says Luna, sitting up and cracking her knuckles. “Let’s go, Nameless. Chop chop. I’ve got something important to do.” She grins broadly in anticipation.

“What’s the hurry?” asks the alienist. “You’re looking too happy. Who are you planning to kill?”

The shifter snorts dismissively. “Kill-schmill! I’m going shopping with Elaine. She said she’s got this wonderful curtain-maker I need to meet. Don’t worry – I’m getting some for all your rooms. And I’ll make sure yours are purple.”

Nameless objects, “I don’t think purple will match the rakshasa rugs,” even as he begins the motions of his spell.

“Arguments about décor!” Korm says with a sad head-shake to Six. “I knew I’d regret this trip!”


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:
			
		

> Moranna rises and says, “If you do this successfully, you shall find the throne of Karrnath even more well-disposed towards you than it already is.” Then she turns and leaves.




I've got a bad feeling about this...


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> I've got a bad feeling about this...




Oh that's no problem. It's this that's keeping me up at night.



			
				Luna said:
			
		

> The shifter snorts dismissively. “Kill-schmill! I’m going shopping with Elaine. She said she’s got this wonderful curtain-maker I need to meet. Don’t worry – I’m getting some for all your rooms. And I’ll make sure yours are purple.”


----------



## Vorput

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Oh that's no problem. It's this that's keeping me up at night.




lol


----------



## shilsen

The room sits empty and silent, its walls and ceiling bare, only the floor boasting a decoration – the red drop of blood overlaid with a skeletal-seeming mask which symbolizes the Blood of Vol. And then suddenly there are five figures in the chamber, as it prepares to enter the Guardian Angels’ long list of “been there, done that, wrecked the joint.”

“Damn, Luna!” growls Korm, pressed as he is against a wall by the huge bulk of his druid ally in her favorite bear form. “Move over!” 

Luna gestures rudely and replies, her voice sounding a little shrill as it does with the embedded magical tongue, “Not my fault if these idiots can’t build good-sized rooms.” She cranes her neck, trying to see behind her. “Anyone see an exit?”

Korm opens his mouth to retort and then frowns, feeling the tell-tale tingle of a magical effect, followed instantly by a spell to increase his speed winking out. “Look out! Someone’s using _dispel_s on us!”

Nameless, already scanning the area with his glowing blue gaze, shakes his head. “Not someone. There are a few magical auras here and I’m fairly sure one is an _unhallow_ linked to a _dispel_, presumably set to affect non-worshippers of the Blood of Vol. There’s also the permanent _desecrate_ Moranna mentioned.” He looks down at the ring on his hand, which flashed a moment ago as it counterspelled the _dispel_. “Anyone lose any important protections?”

The answers are negative, and while Nameless re-arms his ring and Korm recasts his spell, Six carefully examines the red marble door that leads out of the room. After ascertaining that it is safe to use, and unlocked, he opens it carefully and steps out. 

An empty corridor leads away from the room, turning to the left some forty feet away, lit by a lonely torch in a wall sconce. As the others emerge, Six points out that it’s actually not a magical torch. “Been a while since I saw a place lit by one of those. Very old-school.” Then he adds darkly, “Maybe we’ll find out it really is just a  Blood of Vol temple, and not an Emerald Claw cell.”

“You really are paranoid, Six,” replies Gareth. “I doubt Moranna’s information network would make such an error.”

Six restrains himself from pointing out that he wasn’t implying that there was any error in the decision to send them here, only that what they were told might not all be the truth. Instead, he says, “Wait. I’ll check ahead.” Before leaving, he concentrates, using his magical hat to appear as a large human wearing traditional Karrnathi clothing. Then he walks down the corridor soundlessly and disappears around the corner.

The others wait, Luna grumbling that she’s having to hold her breath constantly to squeeze her way through the corridors, the others diplomatically failing to comment that said hallways are wide enough for two of them to fight comfortably side by side within. “You know,” says Nameless after a few seconds, “A little disguising isn’t a bad idea.” He concentrates and takes on the appearance of a warforged. “If we run into vampires, they might not try going after a warforged, since they can’t be drained the way humans can.” Korm nods, “Good idea,” and follows suit. 

When Six returns a couple of minutes later, he doesn’t bother asking why two of them now look like warforged, but simply explains that he heard four people coming this way, and their conversation indicated that they were guards on a routine patrol, not answering any alarm.

“Ooh – let’s go fry them!”

Nameless sighs. “Let’s hold off on the explosions for the moment. I’m sure we’ll be detected soon, but a little subtlety wouldn’t hurt.”

“Gah! You’re no fun! Fine, fine, we’ll do it your way – for now.”

The Angels station themselves around a corner, and when the guards reach it, Six and Gareth step out and almost literally scare them out of their skins. Spiked chain and sword make short work of three immediately. Nameless, deciding to have a little fun of his own, actually jumps forth between the warriors and strikes – but without a spell. As the remaining guard opens his mouth to scream an alarm, the alienist’s tentacle slams into his forehead with a sickening crunch and he collapses. Nameless grins in pleasure.

“Well, that is _definitely_ a first!”

Still grumbling as she squeezes around the corner, Luna eyes Korm as he leans over a barely living guard and channels a little healing energy into him, staving off death from blood loss. “What? You want us to be interrogating them now?”

“Nope,” says Korm, picking up the still unconscious man without effort and slinging him over his shoulder. “New weapon!”

“Say what?!”

“I once read a story about a Gatekeeper berserker who ripped off a mind flayer’s arm and bludgeoned it to death with the arm. This isn’t quite the same, but what could be cooler than beating the Emerald Claw _with_ one of their own?”

“And you guys say I’m crazy?!”

While they search the corpses, Six again moves off down the corridor, returning shortly to say that this time three people are coming this way, and they are speaking of having heard something. After a quick discussion, the Angels decide that they should just replicate their tactics from the preceding battle/massacre. 

This time, when they step around the corner, the Angels find themselves facing three startled men, all three hearing tabards displaying the symbol of the Blood of Vol. As the two in the lead grab at their holy symbols, Six’s chain spins around one’s ankle and drops him flat on the floor. The warforged steps back and away, allowing Gareth to step in and lay open the other’s side. 

If the swift attacks stagger the priests, what truly shocks them – literally out of their lives – is Korm’s maneuver. The grinning Gatekeeper steps forward, swinging the man he has been carrying over his shoulder, like a giant and unwieldy greatclub. His skull smashes into the still upright priest’s with a shattering crunch, killing him instantly. Korm pivots, raising his improvised (and now _very_ dead) weapon over his head and brings it down on the prone man, crushing his skull too.*

The remaining man, who was walking a little behind the others, blanches at the sight and shouts, “Ware! The Silver Flame is attacking!” And then he makes a fatal error. Instead of simply fleeing, he casts and sends a ray of _searing light_ shooting harmlessly by Korm’s head. By the time he turns to run, the Angels are rushing forward, Korm actually catching up and leaping past to block his retreat, grinning and swinging his makeshift weapon from side to side. 

Desperate, the priest shouts, “For the Blood of Vol!” and throws himself at Korm, the telltale dark nimbus of a _vampiric touch_ appearing around his hand. Korm simply catches the wrist in mid-air and then bludgeons the unfortunate man into unconsciousness. Then, dropping his former weapon, he picks the priest up and begins to tie a splint to his arm. 

“What the hell are you doing now, you sicko?” Luna growls, as she shoves her way through the corridor after him. 

“If I find another one I can poke him with this spell,” laughs Korm, drawing groans or chuckles from the others. He then picks up the unconscious figure, holding the spell-loaded hand ahead of him, and hurries down the corridor.

Unfortunately for the Gatekeeper’s macabre plan, by the time the spell ends he has still not found a target, partly because the Angels stop to check the doors and rooms they pass, finding the first couple empty though they can hear shouts and retreating feet ahead. While they are doing so, another set of five enemies, these clearly on the alert and seeking the invaders, comes upon the Angels. And, ten seconds later, have quickly departed this life, except for the priest who led them, whom Korm picks up to replace his broken ‘weapon.’

As the Angels finish checking the next room, a long-disused dormitory or guard barracks, a door further down the corridor opens and a head pokes out. The man’s eyes go wide as he spots them and the door slams. Korm promptly bellows in pleased anticipation and rushes to the door. The sound of bolts slamming home as he comes makes the Gatekeeper smile. “Aw – that’s so sweet! And useless!” A swift kick smashes the door open, to reveal a dining hall. The man who had stuck his head out is running past the three tables in the room, heading for a pair of doors in the wall to the right.

Korm takes careful aim and hurls his burden with an overhand motion. The unfortunate priest flies through the air and takes the running man off his feet, and the two hit the ground in a tangled heap. Walking over, Korm checks, and clarifies to the others as they enter, “He’s out. But I think I killed my weapon again.” He looks down at the poor clothing worn by the unconscious man and says, “I think he was a servant or something.”

As he is speaking, the further door opens and a scared looking woman peers out. She screams, reflexively raises her spatula in defense, and then tries to slam the door. “Hold it!” Nameless snaps, stopping her in mid-flight. “If you cook something good for us, we’ll let you live.”

The cook doesn’t hesitate, throwing herself to her knees and babbling that she’ll cook anything and begging to be spared. “Not a bad idea,” says Korm. “Killing Emerald Claw and having a hot meal waiting would be great.” Turning to the cook, he asks, “Can you make a meat curry? Marcher style.” 

The cook continues to gabble words as fast as she can, promising to learn how to cook it even if she doesn’t know how to, causing Luna to growl, “Stop scaring the help, Korm. And I’m not eating anything that suits your taste. Or Nameless’! Let’s go kill some more Emerald Claw. I’m not getting to do anything!” Six, standing near her and watching the corridor, mutters, “_If_ they’re Emerald Claw. I’ve seen no proof yet.”

The discussion is cut off as Gareth strides swiftly over to the woman, commanding the Endless Blade to disappear back into his magical hand. And then knocks her out with one swift punch.

For a moment there is silence, and then Nameless turns to the others and lifts an eyebrow. “Does anyone else have any questions, or should I go first?”

Luna, after gaping for a moment, growls, “What the F*CK?!”

“We can’t trust her to not give the alarm,” explains Gareth.

“Alarm? What part of people shouting and running doesn’t say alarm to you?” asks Korm. “Seriously, you’re nuts! Or you just like punching defenseless women.”

Gareth scowls. “You just bludgeoned a man to death with an unconscious man. I wouldn’t go pointing fingers.”

Six simply shakes his head and proceeds along the corridor, followed by Luna. By the time the others check out the unfortunate cook’s quarters and Korm collects some ingredients from the well-stocked larder, the two find a corridor leading to what is presumably the main hallway and the exit to the temple. Of more immediate interest, however, is a nearby stone door of the same red marble they saw in the teleport chamber. The door is locked, but when all the Angels arrive, Korm hefts the ‘universal key,’ aka his meteoric blade, and chops the stone door apart in a few blows.

Beyond lies a shadowy chamber, dimly lit by a brazier in the center. Beside it stands what seems to be a sarcophagus, but the Angels’ attention is drawn instead to a bulky figure that shambles forward from the far corner. As the brazier illuminates its blockish form and the funereal wrappings that cover it, a wave of supernatural fear flows over the Angels – with absolutely no effect. Korm simply grins, “Hey, Gareth – it’s your mummy!” The paladin grunts his disapproval and steps forward, the Endless Blade upraised, but Nameless flies forward over him, three _scorching ray_s leaping from his hand. 

All three strike and there is a flash as the desiccated wrappings ignite. A second later, the mummy drops in a smoking ruin. A large black pearl, previously set into its forehead, hits the ground and rolls away. “Ooh – shiny!” says Luna, pushing her way into the chamber and putting a paw down on the pearl. “Aah! It’s good to be in a decent-sized room.” Then she stops, sniffs carefully at the sarcophagus and says, “Eww! Look at this!”

“What?” Six walks over to study it, and discovers that it is actually an altar carved to seem like a sarcophagus. The top of the altar has shallow grooves along the sides, marked with dried blood, which drain down to small stone supports which presumably hold receptacles at the time of a sacrifice. The warforged studies them and then looks at Luna curiously. “You just saw us kill a number of people. Why does this bother you?”

“Hey, I may fight someone and kill him – or _flame strike_ him – but I don’t sacrifice helpless people who can’t put up a fight, okay?” She glares at Korm. “Which is why what you were doing with the unconscious guys was sick! Hey, Gareth – shouldn’t you be the one telling him that? Being all paladinly and all that?”

Gareth, also examining the altar, shakes his head. “I’ve given up on you guys. But I need to destroy this.”

While Gareth proceeds to do so, Luna settles for moving around the chamber ripping down the tapestries which hang on its walls, muttering, “Bedroom. Dining room. Um … no, too much undead and sacrifices. Ah, kitchen…” At her request, Six follows, collecting the hangings she does want, but then he comes to a stop, before examining a particular wall. “Hey – there’s a door here.”

Gareth looks up from the shattered remnants of the altar and the combination of sacrificial and embalming tools he found within it. “All right. Let’s check it out.”

A few minutes later, the Angels stand at the bottom of a set of steps within a narrow corridor, facing another stone door. “So what kind of protection does it have?” asks Korm. Nameless, concentrating on the door, replies, “A _glyph of warding_ doing … sonic damage.”

“Hey,” says Korm, as a giant grin spreads across his face, “It’s targeted on whoever tries to open the door, right?”

“Yes. Why? Do you want to _summon_ something to do so?”

The edges of Korm’s grin now threaten to meet at the back of his head. He lifts the latest of the unconscious figures he has been carrying. “I already summoned someone.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Nah!” Korm steps forward, lifts the unconscious figure and pokes the door with it. There’s a sharp explosion and the body jerks violently, before going limp. “Good man!” says Korm, before dropping the corpse and pulling out his sword. 

With a few blows, the door falls apart, revealing a dark chamber, now illuminated by the lights carried by the Angels. As is the spectral and vaguely luminous figure that shoots forward. A hand tipped with translucent claws slashes at Korm and then bounces off the magical armor of force that covers him. There is a disappointed shriek at the very edge of hearing and the spectre dives down into the floor.

“Everyone prepare an attack for when it ret…,” begins Nameless, but Korm cuts him off with a growl. “Not so fast!” He raises the sword, gigantic muscles bulging as he exerts maximum effort, and brings it down at the stone before him. A chunk of stone simply disintegrates at the tremendous impact, leaving a large hole, out of which sticks the head of the spectre which had just entered the stone.

The Angels add to their impressive resume of unusual sights, becoming some of the very few people in Khorvaire to have seen a spectre with an expression of shocked surprise, a second before two volleys of _magic missile_s from Nameless hammer it into nothingness.

“Heh! Now that was funny!” With that, Korm moves in to investigate the chamber. It turns out to be a small treasure vault, containing two small chests full of sovereigns and galifars, as well as a small bag containing some garnets and a jeweled mithral comb. “Ooh – I’m taking that!” says Luna (now in shifter form) as soon as Korm produces it, and a second later is wearing it tucked neatly into her hair.

Six opens a third chest within which Nameless detects some magical auras, producing a pair of sleek blue gloves with tiny golden stars across the knuckles, and what looks like a pile of pungent-smelling intestines, one end of which is tied into an intricate knot. The alienist examines the former and sniffs dismissively. “Arcanist’s Gloves. Good for an unskilled caster, but useless for one of my puissance.”

“You have piss-ants?” growls Luna. “No, don’t explain – I’m sure they’re purple too. What’s the weird-looking rope?”

Korm sniffs it carefully and then grins. “Hah! Troll Gut Rope. Haven’t seen one of these in years! It’s a magically treated length of troll intestine, which you can command to grow three hundred feet longer once a day. The length beyond the original fifty feet decays in twelve hours. Just don’t open the knot at the end, since that ends the magic. Interesting fact most people don’t know: it can function as food too in a pinch. It’s not bad with the right spices.”

“You are sh*tting me!” growls Luna. “Eating troll intestines? I swear, I’m never touching anything else you cook – ever!”

Korm snorts dismissively. “You’ve just never had me cook troll. When I cook troll, the…”

“All right,” says Gareth, “Can we discuss Korm’s culinary tastes later and get a move on?” He turns and heads up the stairs, ignoring the comment of “Probably looking for another woman to punch!” which floats up behind him.

Once outside, the Angels look down the corridor at the main hall, where there is still no sign of any enemies. “Anyone besides me think that’s a little suspicious?” asks Six. Three hands and a large paw from the now comb-wearing giant bear go up. “Okay. But let’s check this first.”

The universal key is applied with the usual effects to an iron-bound wooden door near the stone one leading to the room with the sacrifice-altar, and the Angels look into a corridor with what seem to be four cell doors on either side, each of them of wood reinforced with iron, set with a small barred window above a shuttered slot, presumably to pass food and water through to the prisoners. Four of the windows now have wide-eyed faces in them, staring at the smashed door to the area. 

One of the faces, a jowly one topped with disheveled and thinning gray hair, speaks up. “Who are you? Are you here to help? Please – please release us!”

Gareth immediately begins to _detect evil_ in the area, his eyes gleaming silver, discovering that one of the faces does detect faintly of evil. He replies, “Yes, we shall release you. We are here fighting the Emerald Claw. Who are you?”

“Emerald Claw? There are Emerald Claw here?” The gray-haired man looks around in confusion.

“See?” says Six gloomily. “We’ve been set up.”

Ignoring him, Gareth continues, “This is a secret Emerald Claw cell. Again, who are you?”

“I am Adalstan. Adalstan Gaebler, a friar of the Sovereign Host. I was kidnapped when I was about to enter Atur, four days ago and…” The friar is cut off as the other prisoners, joined by another two faces that appear at their cell windows, begin to babble their names and ask to be freed.

“Quiet!” shouts Gareth. His pleasure at the instant effect is muted by the discovery that all the prisoners are staring wide-eyed past him at the huge ursine head poked around the doorway. He sighs and says, “Don’t worry – she’s a friend. We shall let you out, but we’re quite sure there are more enemies here, so stay behind us.” Korm moves down the corridor, smashing open the locks, and as the prisoners appear Gareth questions them about their knowledge of the place. It emerges that all of the captives – other than Adalstan, who is a stranger to Atur – are from among the poorest members of the city’s society. Presumably so that they won’t be missed, Adalstan comments, mentioning that there were two other women in the cells, who were taken away and, he believes, sacrificed the day before. Unfortunately, none of them know much about the temple’s layout, having been brought in bound and gagged through the main entrance. Adalstan does mention that the main hall the Angels can see from here has the main entrance to the left and another red marble door to the right, presumably leading to the main shrine, which fits the information Moranna had given the Angels.

As the captives are taking a position in the rear and carefully staying away from Luna’s huge bulk, Six points. “Look – we’ve got company.”

The Angels look down the corridor into the main hall beyond. A corridor leads into the opposite wall, and above it stretches a long and deep stone shelf. Standing on the shelf and gazing back are two figures the size of ogres. Their bodies are muscular but lean, with dried skin stretched tight across their bones and sinews, topped by skeletal heads with deep-set, gleaming red eyes. Their most distinctive features are the long claws the size of shortswords which extend from their disproportionately long fingers. The clicking of the claws is audible even from the corridor within which the Angels stand, as the undead flex their hands in anticipation.

“Boneclaws!” say Nameless and Gareth simultaneously, before the alienist says, “I didn’t know they were found in Karrnath.” The paladin shakes his head. “They aren’t. Or weren’t. They’re supposed to be a very rare breed found only in Droaam, as far as I know. Rumor says the Daughters of Sora Kell make them.”

“Yeah, whatever,” says Luna, as she looks down the corridor. Then she gestures and casts, causing a pillar of especially powerful flame to envelop the boneclaws. A second later, an equally empowered fireball from Nameless follows. Even before the flames disappear, to reveal the scorched but still very erect undead, Korm and Gareth are rushing forward, Six close behind. Korm calls on the strange abilities granted him by Mordain and large leathery wings spring from his flesh, while Gareth is simply propelled by the Endless Blade. Nameless follows more sedately, calling out, “Watch the claws! They reach further than you know.”

The warning is quickly proved relevant, though not from the precise quarter Nameless expected. As Korm and Gareth rush out of the corridor, two more boneclaws, waiting patiently on another shelf above the corridor the Angels emerged from, strike out at the unprepared foes. As their attack, the claws lengthen suddenly, expanding to the length of Six’s chain, slashing into Korm’s and Gareth’s backs. 

Korm quickly changes direction, flying up at one of the creatures that struck him, returning the favor with a favor that far surpasses the boneclaws’ ogreish strength. The creatures, however, are resilient, their bodies possessed of an unholy toughness which blends with the skeletal structure to make Korm’s weapon less effective than usual. Gareth, flying up to land on a ledge beside one of the wounded pair on the far side quickly discovers the same, but at a command from him the Endless Blade morphs instantly into a large metal club, perfect from crushing undead bone. 

For a few seconds, Korm and Gareth are the target of the undead’s claws, Six having leaped out, landed a blow and returned to cover. But if the boneclaws are unusually resilient, the Gatekeeper and the paladin are even more so, able to absorb significant damage and also warded by multiple spells, magical items, and the protections that the Fleshweaver has stitched into them. A boneclaw finds its claws slide harmlessly right through where it thinks Gareth’s head is, not knowing that he wears a cloak which slightly displaces him from his apparent position. Another’s claws slide harmlessly off Korm’s magically enhanced flesh.

As Gareth and Korm hack and pound away, their allies join in. The two boneclaws before Gareth suddenly leap and shudder as an _arc of lightning_ from Luna links them in a thread of lashing pain. The paladin takes the opportunity and calls on the Silver Flame to strengthen his arm, his transformed weapon smashing through a boneclaw’s warding arm and the brittle skull beneath. Another one, trying to move along the shelf – which the Angels now see runs all around the square hall – to get a better angle to attack Korm, suddenly finds metal links appearing around its leg and pulling powerfully. The boneclaw teeters, grabs uselessly at the stone with claws that are ill-suited for such a task, and falls. As it is doing so, the chain uncoils and strikes, educating the unfortunate creature in the fact that Six’s weapon is enchanted to particularly damage undead.

The battle ends seconds later, the only really interesting moment in it occurring when the red marble door nearby opens. Two slim figures wearing form-fitting black clothes appear, their pallid appearance and large canines clearly marking their nature. After one quick glance at the battle outside, they leap back inside and the door slams. 

With the boneclaws dispatched, Six points to the door and says succinctly, “Vampires!” Luna, not having seen them, growls, “Where? I hate vampires! The bastards always dodge my best spells!” Six indicates the door. “Guess we’ll have to go in after them.”

“First,” points out Gareth, “Let’s get the civilians out of here.” He motions the released prisoners forward and says, “When you get outside, run like hell.” Worried nods are his only answer. 

“Let me check first,” says Six. “Wouldn’t be a good idea to send them out and find half a dozen guards outside.” The warforged walks to the large double doors, decorated with the symbol of the Blood of Vol, at the end of a short passageway across from the marble door, and opens them. 

Beyond lies a small compound, part of it occupied by a small garden, with a low stone wall separating it from the city beyond. From what Six can see of it, he assumes the temple is towards the outskirts of the city, since the buildings grow larger and closer further in. Six also notes that there is something dark and oppressive about the atmosphere and he remembers Gareth mentioned that Atur is called the City of Night. But he does not have time to dwell on the issue. Half-hiding in the shadows of the gate are two men, who turn and run into the city as soon as he appears.

“It’s clear,” says Six. “Go.” The prisoners hurry away, only Adalstan pausing to say, “The Sovereign Host watch over you!” Then Six shuts the doors and returns.

“All right. Let’s go hunt some vampires.”


* Yes, Korm beat an enemy to death with another guy and then cleaved into the next one. Even with the -4 he took because he didn’t have Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Emerald Claw). These are the rules interpretations they pay me the big bucks for.


----------



## shilsen

Six listens at the red marble door. “I hear movement. People wearing heavy armor.” 

“So not the vampires then,” says Nameless, “Though I’m sure they’re in there too. All right – let’s do this.” The Angels cast a few preparatory spells and then Six kicks the door open. 

The chamber beyond is clearly a shrine, square in shape, with a seating area in each corner, consisting of stone benches for the worshippers on four stone steps. The seating areas leave a free section of floor from a door in each of the four walls, leading to a raised section in the center which supports a carved plinth, presumably used by whoever leads the services. Standing in wait before the podium are three men, sword and shield at the ready, torchlight reflecting ruddily off the Blood of Vol symbols engraved on the breastplates of their heavy armor. 

Or what were once men, as the Angels see in the faces they raise slightly as the door opens. Mottled flesh is drawn tight against the bone of their faces, drawing back their lips to reveal carnivorous teeth. Pale gray eyes rimmed in red gaze forth hungrily from deep-set sockets. In unison, the three ghoul knights raise their blades and charge. The two vampires, clinging spider-like midway up the far wall of the chamber, coincidentally next to a picture of a vampire venerating the hooded figure of Vol, Queen of the Undead, bare their own fangs and scuttle quickly over the walls as swiftly as if they had been on the ground.

[*NOTE:* Coincidentally, Wayne Reynolds was nice enough to draw a picture for this fight here.]

Swift as they are, Six is quicker, diving through the doorway even before Nameless’ warning shout, “There’s another _unhallow_ in there!” The warforged feels the attached _dispel_ wash over him, but his protective spells remain in effect. Not that it matters, since Six has no intention of relying only on them. He changes direction, leaping up onto the second row of benches with a single bound.

The ghouls ignore him, knowing that he is beyond their reach, thundering forward at the others silhouetted in the doorway. But they are not beyond his, and Six’s chain snakes out, lashing around one’s ankle and sending him stumbling to the ground in a clash of armor. The ghoul doesn’t grunt or groan, simply rolling over and beginning to rise. Six promptly launches another blow, which smashes into its helm with the accompanying sound of cracking bone beneath, but the undead continues to rise. A second later, Six staggers, as two slim throwing daggers sink deep into the fibrous tissues that connect his head to his body, courtesy the two vampires.

Its two companions do not pause either, but each shouts “Vol!” as they charge into Korm and Gareth. Whether impelled by divine devotion, unholy power or both, the swords descend with tremendous force, bruising bone and rending flesh. The Gatekeeeper strikes back with a horizontal slash, but his target deflects it with his shield. Seeing the ghoul temporarily occupied, Gareth brings the Endless Blade down at its open right side. But as the sword descends, so does the second ghoul’s shield, edge-first on the paladin’s wrist. The blow goes awry, only the fact that Gareth’s wrist is as metal as his hand saving him from being crippled.

There is a brief flurry of blows in the doorway, Korm and Gareth slowly gaining the upper hand, though the ghouls are extremely resilient. One strikes Gareth, and as it hits, a nimbus of dark energy shoots up its blade, healing some of its wounds. The other attempts to smash Korm’s knee, a partial parry leaving the Gatekeeper with a rapidly purpling shin instead. Six, meanwhile, is kept busy by the two vampires and the third ghoul. One of the vampires hurls a fiery bolt that a previously cast protective spell blocks, but the other disappears in a cloud of smoke which flows swiftly along the wall and reforms behind the warforged, and slashing into his side. Six’s attempt to again trip the ghoul almost pulls him from his position, as the now prepared knight seizes the chain and hauls back on it. 

However, the greater skills of the Angels begin to assert themselves, especially with Nameless and Luna hurling spells from behind Korm and Gareth, and the ghouls slowly disengage and fall back towards the center of the chamber, presumably hoping to inveigle their enemies into following. 

Which turns out to be a significant tactical error. Luna promptly says, “Perfect!” and begins to cast a _firestorm_. Nameless yells, “Six – get out of there! Now!” As the warforged leaps down and out of the door, the alienist conjures a giant mass of sticky _web_s, the strands pinning the relatively slow ghouls in place, and preventing even the agile vampires from moving away quickly. Seconds later, the entire chamber is shot through with sheets of flame as Luna’s spell erupts around the undead.

When the flames clear, only one of the knights is still on his feet, and he quickly goes down beneath a storm of slashing blades and chains. The sole remaining vampire, clinging to a wall near the ceiling and watching the remnants of its companion seep beneath one of the closed doors, hurriedly calculates that it will be unable to follow in time. Instead, it changes to a gaseous cloud, which promptly disappears. 

“Hey! Where’d that bastard go?” says Luna, glaring around, before her gaze falls on Nameless. “Why are you grinning?”

“Because he just used some sort of teleportation effect.”

“And…”

“I cast a little spell called _anticipate teleportation_ today. The greater version, in fact. Which does a few things to people who try that near me.” Nameless walks over to a certain point and looks over to Six, Gareth and Korm. “Oh, boys!”

Ten seconds later, the unfortunate vampire appears, only to find himself in the center of a circling of waiting Angels. After he is swiftly returned – this time unintentionally – to a gaseous state, Luna adds insult to injury (at Nameless’ suggestion) by seizing a large tapestry in her paws and fanning the cloud out of the door leading from the main hall into the sunlight outside. The giant bear stuffs the tapestry under the door to block off ingress and growls, “Okay – let’s check the rest of this place out!”

* * * * *
Ten minutes later, the Angels stand in front of another of the red marble doors that seem to mark important locations in the temple. Four armored bodies lie around them, these all human, displaying the unfortunate results of having met – and attacked – the Angels. 

Korm looks down at his forearm, bleeding from a deep slash that one of the Blood of Vol warriors inflicted before being decapitated. As he watches, the blood begins to thicken and coagulate at unusual speed, while tiny tendrils of flesh extend over the wound till they form a light webbing, which quickly extends itself till the only sign of the wound is a pale scar. The Gatekeeper grunts in satisfaction, knowing that the scar too will soon take on the gray-brown color of his skin. “Mordain really did some amazing work on us.”

“I know,” says Nameless. “We’ll have to go back and talk to him sometime.” He hesitates for a moment, feeling a compulsion at the words that he knows is a result of the _geas_ he has detected as existing on all of them. “Not yet, of course.” Somehow, even though he knows of the spell’s existence, as well as of a _modify memory_, he can’t help but feel a surge of appreciation for the Fleshweaver, despite telling himself that he should be suspicious of precisely what it is that Mordain did to their minds.

“Keep it down, you two,” says Six, listening at the door. “I don’t hear anything. And it’s locked.” He straightens up and moves to the side, gesturing to Korm, who steps forward and smashes the door apart in a few seconds. 

The Angels promptly rush in, to find themselves into a somewhat spartan living room, with closed doors leading out to left and right. There is no sign of life, but those among them with keener hearing detect the sounds of a voice behind the door to the right. The voice is clearly feminine, and just as clearly in the process of casting a spell. 

“That way!” The wooden door flies apart under Korm’s attack. The huge and brightly lit chamber beyond looks like a laboratory, its walls lined with varying forms of alchemical and necromantic equipment, with multiple tables and biers lined up near them, a few of which clearly bear corpses to be worked on. A faint dripping sound suffuses the room, as a mixture of blood and alchemical fluid leaks into the channels carved in the floor to carry the ruddy streams to catch basins at the room’s edges. Not that the Angels have much time to notice such things. 

Their attention is focused on the center of the chamber, which holds a huge circular depression full of bones to a height only a couple of inches below floor level. Standing on the opposite side of the pit is a short and thin middle-aged woman, wearing a breastplate that seems a little large for her. In one raised hand is a battered looking tome, with what seems to be a desiccated claw-like hand nailed to its surface, and the other clutches the symbol of the Blood of Vol that hangs around her throat. Such a symbol is also visible around the throats of the two men who stand between her and the Angels, some ten feet closer and one on either side of the pit. These two, wearing heavy plate armor and seeming much more martial than the woman, also clutch at their holy symbols. 

There is a second’s silence after the thunderous sound of the door being knocked in, and then Theda Henkas, high priestess of the temple, raises an empty palm and shouts, “Wait! Who a…”

She never finishes the sentence. “No! She’s trying to confuse our minds with words!” growls Luna in a comment which later causes much merriment for the Angels, but now is the signal for mayhem.

Nameless, whose enhanced vision has already noted the plethora of magical auras in the room, on Theda and her allies, and interestingly enough, in the pit of bones, is the swiftest, shouting, “There’s another _unhallow_! Make them come to us!” even as he casts a _greater dispel_ling. To his disappointment, the _unhallow_ remains unaffected, but auras wink out on Theda and on the other priests.

As his spell hits, Theda cries out, “Ghulam! Come forth and slay the desecrators!” And there is an answer from the pit. Bones shower up and outwards, fountaining out of the pit in a macabre waterfall, and for a moment the Angels – even Nameless, who detected multiple magical auras in the pit and sees them rising – assume it is some sort of explosion. But then, as the bones fall, they reveal what lay beneath. The bandages that swathe its form mark it clearly as a mummy, but it stands twelve feet tall and proportionately thick, giant arms ending in clenched fists larger than a human head. Strangely, a large number of the bones stick to its already bulky form, and as it takes a ponderous step out of the pit, they actually slide and reshape themselves till they form a rough equivalent of a suit of armor.

Unique though its appearance is, the undead called Ghulam has one trait that all mummies share, waves of supernatural terror washing over the Angels at sight of it, far deeper and stronger than from the first mummy they saw here. Any normal human being would be instantly paralyzed, and even the Angels – other than Gareth, protected from it by the grace of the Silver Flame – momentarily feel the cold chill of fear tightening their muscles and sapping their strength. And, a second later, they throw it off.*

Theda gasps in shock as her enemies remain unaffected, and she hurriedly begins a _recitation_ of a prayer to Vol, imbuing herself and her allies with divine favor. Her two priestly guardians do so as well, advancing slowly. The Angels hold their position as Nameless suggested, also casting various protective spells, even Six activating a wand to _haste_ his allies. Luna, of course, takes a more active approach, bringing down a _flame strike_ on the mummy. Ghulam doesn’t even bother to dodge as the column of fire envelops him, but Theda has constructed him with special protections, and much of the fiery damage is negated, though he is still left smoking. 

“Focus on her!” Nameless _summon_s a number of giant pseudonatural snakes around Theda, but as their coils appear around her, the _unhallow_ does its work and the linked _dispel_ returns them whence they came. 

As Nameless curses, the mummy steps forward and slams its arm down. Korm lifts his sword in defense, deflecting the blow slightly, but its power beats the flat of the blade down on his head. Dazed at the impact, the Gatekeeper staggers and drops to a knee, and Ghulam grabs Korm’s head, giant fingers squeezing with a force that would crush a lesser orc’s skull. Gareth quickly steps forward, lifting the Endless Blade in preparation of a blow at the exposed arm – and then staggers sideways as a ray of dark energy hits him. As Ghulam strikes, Theda lifts her book and casts a spell. As she completes the words, a dark radiance seeps from the tome like pus from an infected wound, and her _ray of enfeeblement_ is maximized to full potential. As it hits, Gareth feels his muscles turn weak and flaccid, unable to support even the weight of his armor and equipment. Theda’s action identifies the book for him – a Tome of Undead Transformation, a relic of the Blood of Vol that allows creation of unusual undead and helps an attuned user cast necromantic spells with increased effectiveness. But the realization is hardly his primary focus, as he collapses to the ground.

So too does Korm, only some distance away and significantly worse off. Ghulam lifts him off the ground by his head and tosses him casually into the chamber. Korm skids to a halt, pain shooting up along his strained neck, and then feels the worrying sensation of the room’s _dispel magic_ wash over him, taking his _death ward_ with it. Which becomes quickly more worrying as the two priests rush at the prone orc. As he rolls over, two gauntlets strike him, and he feels twin _vampiric touch_es leech more vitality from his form.

Seeing Korm’s situation, Six snaps, “We have to go in!” and leaps forward. “All right, but someone _dispel_ the damn _unhallow_,” says Nameless, “I’m out of _dispel_s.” 

“But I’m not!” says Luna, moving forward so that she can see where Korm is. Six leaps forward, a split second before her huge form almost blocks the doorway, and tumbles into the chamber. Deciding not to make himself a target for the mummy, he rolls past and away, heading for a far wall. 

Behind him, Luna casts and this time Nameless sees the _unhallow_’s aura shimmer and then rapidly fade, while another protective spell disappears off Theda. “Yes!” The alienist promptly casts a _wall of force_, blocking off half the room and Theda from them. Now it is the high priestess’ turn to curse, and she hurriedly casts an _air walk_ and rises slowly into the air, feeling the magical wall and searching for an opening. 

“Help!” Luna turns at the plaintive cry from beside her to see Gareth rolling back and forth in a vain attempt to rise. “Fine!” she growls, “But this is my last one!” Her giant tongue licks out, covering Gareth’s arm with a coating of giant-bear-saliva, but more importantly, _dispel_ling the weakening effect. As the paladin springs to his feet, the bear begins to growl, “Now get i…,” before a thunderous punch from Ghulam slams into her muzzle. 

Luckily, Luna’s making a target of herself has drawn the mummy’s attention away from Korm. Unfortunately, he has left the Gatekeeper with a little gift. Trying to buy some time, Korm bats away the two priests’ attacks and then casts a spell of his own, causing an insect-like sting to protrude from his palm. He slaps it against the thigh of one priest, causing the man to cry out in agony. But though the _healing sting_ inflicts damage, it fails to complete its job. As the health stolen from the target shoots into Korm, he feels a cold sensation at the back of his skull, where Ghulam’s arm had hit, and the spell dissipates without healing him. “Hey! What the crap?”

From the doorway, Nameless shouts, “You’ve been cursed with mummy rot!” Korm dodges aside from another attack, temporarily able to keep the priest’s at bay but yet unable to rise, and shouts back, “I’m flat on my back with you idiots out there and these fools trying to kill me! Of course, I’m bloody cursed!” As if to underline the sentiment, Ghulam turns and slams down a fist that knocks all humor out of the orc.

“Just a second!” says Six, currently being ignored by the enemies, as he calls on another of the powers of his modified harness. There is a creaking of crunching of metal and wood and then he begins to grow, expanding in bulk and height until he towers as tall as the mummy. 

Across the battlefield from the growing warforged, Theda has finally reached the top of the _wall of force_ and found an open space, and she calls down Luna’s favorite spell. A _flame strike_ slams down on Luna, Nameless and Gareth, but with all of them warded against fire, inflicts only minimal damage. Peering past the giant bear filling the doorway, Gareth shouts, “I’ll take her! Luna – duck!”

“What?!” For a moment, Luna wonders why Gareth thinks that a transformation into a small waterfowl will help their chances, but then she realizes what he means and drops to the ground. Gareth raises his sword and says, “Time to fly, Blade!” The Endless Blade snaps, “Sure! You’ve been f*cking useless so far,” and propels the momentarily speechless paladin forward through the gap between Luna and the doorframe.

Theda has only a moment of shocked surprise as three hundred pounds of armored paladin slam into her through the opening in the _wall_, and before she can respond Gareth has her in a clinch.

“Oh, great! He’s beating up the woman again,” groans Korm, rolling away as a massive fist hits the ground where his head had been a second later. “Someone get this mummy off me!”

“Done,” says Nameless, firing an emerald-colored bolt past Luna. It strikes Ghulam in the chest and, for a moment, the undead giant is outlined in green flame. And then it shakes off the effects of the _disintegrate_, only a few bandages falling apart. “Son of a bitch!”

As Nameless curses, Six darts forward, muttering, “Let’s do this the old-fashioned way.” His chain, now the size of a ship’s hawser, wraps around Ghulam’s ankle and he tugs. In his normal form, Six would have no chance against the creature’s huge size and strength, but in his _enlarge_d form they are closer to equals, and Six’s expertise tips the balance. And Ghulam, whose giant arms windmill uselessly as he hits the floor. 

“Great!” grunts Korm, a second before another attack from his two smaller assailants further saps his vitality. “That does it! Luna – Cocoon me! But first….” Korm roars in rage and gives up all attempts at defense, letting in to his berserker fury and spinning in a circle on the ground, his sword leading the way. The priest who touched him, assuming that the prone orc was helpless, stares in shock and then screams. As he collapses and swiftly falls silent, blood jets and pools around him from his two legs, both of which Korm has neatly hacked off just below the knee.

The second priest gives back for a moment and then reaches forward, hoping to drain the wounded orc’s remaining life force, even as Ghulam sits up and brings down his fist too. But a split second before either can hit, a giant tongue reaches out and touches Korm’s leg, causing a greenish yellow cocoon of force to spring up around him. 

Unable to strike at Korm, Ghulam changes direction, smashing his fist into Luna’s side. The giant bear grunts at the impact, now seriously hurt. From behind her, Nameless drops an especially powerful _fireball_ in the chamber, placing it precisely so as not to touch either Luna or Six, but enveloping Ghulam and the remaining priest. The cleric screams in mortal agony as the spell, modified by the alienist’s ring, blasts him with streams of acid, reducing him in seconds to a bubbling mass of flesh. Ghulam’s resistance to fire is useless against it, and entire chunks of undead flesh melt away, along with the bandages and protective bone armor above.

Some distance away, on the other side of the _wall of force_, Theda struggles in Gareth’s grasp. Desperately, she seizes his throat with a hand glowing with necromantic power, but he too is warded against the effect. _At least he cannot use his sword_, she thinks for a moment, and then sees the blade shrink to the size of a dagger, a second before Gareth drives it into her side. As she cries out, she notices that the paladin is looking past her. Even in her agony, Theda twists to see what he is gazing at, only to see Six’s huge form leaping up, one metal hand clasped around the edge of the _wall_. The other is already in mid-swing, and the hapless priestess has no time for another scream before it smashes her skull into smithereens.

Behind Six, Nameless says to Luna, “He’s badly hurt. Heal him now!” The druidess looks at Korm, who is gaining none of the healing benefits of the _cocoon_ due to his cursed state. “But I can’t reach him!” The alienist rolls his eyes. “Not him! The mummy!” Luna looks confused for a moment and then she smiles viciously. “Oh yeah!”

She reaches forward, ignoring a hammer-blow from Ghulam, and slaps her paw into his chest, before casting her spell. And the incredible healing energy of a _heal_ pours into Ghulam, its positive energy anathema to the dark powers that bind his undead flesh to his will. The mummy thrashes violently, trying to shove Luna away, but she holds her paw in place. Tiny holes appear, swiftly expanding, as beams of energy shine out of its body, dissolving the long-dead bones and muscle as they expand. And then, with a soft hiss, the giant form collapses in on itself, till all that remains is a pile of smoking bandages, dust leaking slowly out of them.

“Nicely done, folks,” says Nameless, walking into the room and dissolving his _wall of force_. “Now let’s find out what exactly is here.”

Korm, emerging from the _cocoon_ only marginally healthier than he entered, interjects, “Can someone do anything about me? I’m still not healing properly.”

“No problem,” says Gareth, pulling out a scroll. “We just need to _remove curse_.”

While the paladin takes care of Korm, the others examine the rest of the chamber. Luna scowls as she notes the various corpses on the tables, some with a mixture of alchemical and necromantic fluids keeping them in a state of near-life, leaking blood into carefully placed channels and basins. “Why the hell do we always run into this kind of sh*t? These necro-idiots friends of your aberrations or what, Nameless?”

“No,” says the alienist shortly, turning to scan the area. “She’s got a fair bit of magical equipment. And that relic of hers.” Then he stops and points at a large doorway set into the far wall. “That’s got a lot of protection too.”

“I’ll take this,” says Gareth, walking over to pick up the Tome. “We should destroy it. Maybe I’ll take it back to the Archierophant and let her do it. That might make her happy.”

“Call me a cynic, but I doubt anything you do right now will make her happy,” says Six, kneeling to check Theda’s corpse. “And call me a cynic, but I’m still not sure this is an Emerald Claw cell.”

“Either way,” argues Gareth, “They were holding people against their will and sacrificing them. And the presence of all these strange undead is suspicious.”

“If you think that’s suspicious,” says Nameless, having opened the door with the now recovered Korm’s aid, “Come see this.”

The others walk over and look through the doorway. “DAMN!!!”

The chamber beyond is oval in shape and empty expect for one occupant. Lying stretched on its side in the middle of the floor, attached to the wall by a chain and a collar around its throat is a gigantic hound. Three things about it stick out instantly to the watchers. Firstly, it would stand twenty feet at the shoulder if it stood upright. Secondly, it cannot actually stand upright, since it is the first half of a dog, its body ending midway down its torso. And strangest of all is what forms that torso. The creature is entirely made up of scores of humanoid corpses, most in a state of partial decay, somehow held together in a ghastly agglomeration.

“What the f*ck is that?!”

“I think it’s a charnel hound,” says Nameless. “I’ve heard of that, but never seen one. They’re incredibly rare, and crafting one requires incredible necromantic power.” He glances at Gareth. “Or the right relic.”

Gareth opens his mouth to respond and then quickly raises his sword. As he and the others watch, the gigantic half-hound opens its eyes. With a mighty effort, accompanied by the scraping of bone and flesh against stone, it levers itself to an upright position.

And then, even as the Angels watch in fascinated horror, it drags itself painfully forward with its forelegs, a low and strangely pathetic whine emanating from its throat.

“Aww! The poor thing!” Luna turns to the others. “Can we keep it?”

“Are you crazy?!” Gareth shouts, causing Nameless to grin and say, “It would definitely take care of door-to-door salesmen, you know.” The paladin just glares at him and then turns on Luna. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Look at it. It’s pathetic. And kinda cute. Well, not as much as it would be if it weren’t made of corpses, but…”

“No! This is not up for discussion! We are destroying this thing now!”

“Fine, fine,” mutters Luna irritably. “I guess it’s too big to take back with us anyway.” 

The semi-completed charnel hound whines one more time and hitches itself a few feet closer, and then a storm of magical energy envelops it, quickly returning it – and its components – to a real death.

With the creature dealt with, the Angels proceed to check the rest of the area. Beyond the door on the other side of the living room they passed through, they find Theda’s bedroom and study. Six finds a locked wall safe that contains some money, and within it a second, concealed, compartment containing documents, more money, gems, some scrolls and a skull crafted in tarnished silver.

Gareth weighs the skull in his hand and says, “I know what this is. It’s a talisman that aids in controlling or destroying undead. It should come in handy.”

“Look at this.” Six holds up a small red gem. “Same as the one the spy on the airship had. I wonder if that means she really did have a connection with the…”

“Emerald Claw. Definitely,” confirms Nameless, having quickly scanned the various documents.

“See?” says Gareth, turning to Six. “The information was accurate. It’s not as if we were set up or something.”

Six shakes his head sadly. “No, it just means that we were set up but they sent us to a Blood of Vol temple which, completely coincidentally, actually did involve an Emerald Claw cell.”

“Sheesh! What the hell happened to make you such a pessimist?”

Six shrugs mechanically. “I began living with you people.”


* The bums rolled godawfully well on Will saves, all beating the DC 27 Will save by a fair bit. Admittedly they all had immunities or a _Freedom of Movement_ to protect them anyway, but it would be nice to see a failed save. But noooo…


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:
			
		

> As his spell hits, Theda cries out, “Ghulam! Come forth and slay the desecrators!”




Wouldn't they actually be consecrators?


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Wouldn't they actually be consecrators?






Good point, but considering what this bunch consists of, them walking around probably counts as a serious desecration of the natural order.

I've held off on the latest update for a bit, since I've been busy with grading for a week, but I'll hopefully have it up on Saturday or so. As for what happened last session, the Angels decided that they need to up the odds a bit to have a challenge, so they went and attacked an army of lizardfolk in Q'barra. With a door.


----------



## shilsen

After having collected most things that weren’t nailed down – and a couple that were – the Angels retrace their way to the main hall. The scorched and battered bodies of the boneclaws still litter the floor, but moving among them are a number of armed and armored men with worried expressions. The majority wear the same uniforms, and the two who do not,  have holy symbols of the Blood of Vol prominently displayed on their chests. All of them quickly raise their weapons as the Angels walk in, and one of the priests says sharply, “Halt and identify yourselves! We are the city watch of Atur! Did you do this?”

“Yes,” says Gareth, “We did. This temple is a secret cell of the Emerald Claw.”

“What? We were informed that….” The man falls silent, gaping at the sight of Luna squeezing her way into the hall. “Err … you have a bear?!” One of the watchmen, all of whom have stepped back and are looking even more concerned than they already were, mutters, “Vol protect us – that thing’s huge!”

Korm says, “Oh yeah – he’s dead!” a second before Luna steps forward and growls, “Who are these idiots?”

“You have a _talking_ bear? Who _are_ you people?”

“The Guardian Angels,” replies Gareth.

“Guardian angels?”

“_The_ Guardian Angels. From Sharn. The same guys who escorted Princess Haydith ir’Wynarn from Wroat to Korth, and destroyed dozens of Emerald Claw attackers who attacked us on the way. Those Guardian Angels.”

“Oh!” The priest visibly collects himself and then says slowly, “Yes, we have heard of you. But what are you doing here? Some people from the temple came to the guard house and said it had been attacked, so we hurried here.”

“This temple, as I said, was actually being run by an Emerald Claw cell. They were constructing strange undead, like these ones,” Gareth indicates the boneclaws, “And had an unusual mummy and a partly-constructed charnel hound, which we also destroyed. They were also holding prisoners against their will and sacrificing them. That is not acceptable even within the Blood of Vol, is it?”

The priest’s face tightens slightly at the ‘even’ and his eyes flicker across the symbols of the Silver Flame gleaming on Gareth’s breastplate, but he says simply, “No, it is not. But do you have any proof of these allegations?”

Nameless produces the papers the group found and hands them over. “We found these in a concealed compartment in the high priestess’ safe. By the way, could you be a little quick about it? We have a lizardman army to destroy at 12:30.” The priest’s expression says that he really wants to ask a question, but he evidently decides that not knowing is probably better. He silently accepts the documents and leafs through them quickly, stopping to pass some on to the second priest and read others in more detail, a frown spreading across his face. After a few moments, he hands them back. “I see you were telling the truth. If I may ask – why is it a concern of yours? On what authority are you here?”

“On the authority of King Kaius III,” says Gareth, “We’re doing a favor for Regent Moranna, who speaks for him, as you know. If you have any questions, take them up with her.”

There is silence for a few moments, and then the priest says, “I see.” He hesitates, but then adds, “Even if this place had been used by the Emerald Claw, it is still a temple of the Blood, so I must ask – what have you taken from this place?”

“That does it!” growls Luna, rearing up. “I’ve had it up to _here_ with people taking our things! If you even _think_ of asking for any of our stuff, I will _eat_ your face!”

The unfortunate priest blanches visibly, and a couple of the guardsmen take a couple of quick steps for the door, clearly about to flee. The second priest grabs at his holy symbol, but before things can devolve into another massacre, Gareth quickly speaks up. “Listen to me! We are here to do a job for our king. Yes – _our_ – since I’m Karrnathi too, in case that matters. And we’ve just taken down an Emerald Claw cell, risking our lives in the process.” Ignoring the stage whisper of “Not that much,” from Six, the paladin continues, “You have neither the authority, nor the power, to question us. As I mentioned before, if you have any questions, you can speak to the king or to the Regent. We are leaving now, and for your sakes, do _not_ attempt to stay us. The only result will be your deaths and a minor waste of time for us. If you do not believe anything else I have said, believe me on this score.”

The priest searches Gareth’s expression, finding only truth there, and nods slowly. “Very well. I protest, but I shall not attempt to stop you.”

“Good.” The Angels walk through the priests and watchmen, who hastily get out of their way, and through the open doorway of the temple into the open air. Nameless prepares to _teleport_ them away, when Luna says, “Wait! Where are you taking us?”

“Back to Korth, so we can discuss what we found with Moranna.”

“Hell, no! First we go back to Gareth’s place and dump all the stuff! You know she’s going to ask for our stuff too!”

“You are a strange, strange woman. All right then.”

* * * 
“… so we came back here,” Luna explains to Leanna and Elaine, as the Angels relax in Karrlakton.

“That was very … interesting,” says Elaine, a hint of concern evident in her eyes as she glances at her son. “Tell me, what are your plans for tomorrow?”

“We’ll go to Korth and speak to Moranna,” says Nameless, “And we’re planning to return to Sharn to find out about that situation in Q’barra we mentioned.” He indicates the Korranberg Chronicle, which he has been reading. “Apparently the problems with the lizardfolk are growing, and a lizardfolk army attacked and totally destroyed a town. House Tharashk is also asking adventurers to come to Q’Barra to help with the situation. Not surprising, since it must make harvesting dragonshards complicated.”

“All right. Do you think you could be at home for dinner tomorrow?” Though she speaks generally, Elaine’s eyes are again on Gareth. Curious what his mother has in mind, he replies, “I’m sure we could. Why?”

“I’m planning to have a small party. I’d mentioned that you were home to a couple of friends and they wanted to stop in and say ‘hello,’ so I thought I’d call a few more friends over.”

“You want to show off the prodigal son, don’t you?” says Luna with a grin. “Are you inviting any girls for him?” Elaine laughs and replies, “Well, Yevana was bragging a bit about her son having been accepted at Rekkenmark Academy, so….” Catching Gareth’s expression, she quickly adds, “But no, I’m not doing any matchmaking.” 

Leanna puts in firmly, “Yes. There is no need for that. You have far more important things to deal with now. With the power and abilities that have been bestowed upon you, your emphasis should be on delivering justice and righteousness where needed, as you did today.”

Korm chuckles. “You’re hardcore, grandma! Is there any way we could trade Gareth off for you?”

As the others laugh, Leanna says dryly, “You should be so lucky! Now tell me again about these undead that you encountered.”

* * * * * * * * * *
Early the next day, the Angels return to Korth to meet with Moranna and apprise her of all that they encountered and did. 

“Thank you,” says the Regent, when they are done. “Let me see the documents you found.” After going through them, she nods. “Good. This may reveal more to us once we have examined them in detail. You mentioned that you found a Tome of Undead Transformation. May I see it?”

“Certainly,” says Gareth, “But I wish to take it to the Cathedral of the Flame in Sharn and destroy it.”

Moranna looks at the paladin, her expression inscrutable, and asks, “Why?”

“Because it can be used for creating powerful undead, and that is both unnatural and dangerous for the people of Khorvaire. I cannot allow this relic to be allowed to exist.” _And Ythana may be a little bit happier with me if I bring this to her to destroy._

“Very well. I would like to take it for a short time. I shall return it to you before you return to Sharn with the princess. It should provide us with valuable information, especially in conjunction with the other documents you obtained, about what types of undead the Emerald Claw may have constructed using it or are trying to.”

_It’s a little hard to say no, and it’s not as if they can just make copies of the book, since the magic is bound to it._ “All right.” Gareth hands the book over and Moranna places it on the table, the attached claw uppermost. “Thank you,” she says, “What do you plan to do in the interim before you leave for Sharn?”

“Actually, we’re going back to Sharn right now. We’re planning to take a hand with the Q’barra situation. But we’ll definitely be back before the princess has to leave.”

“I see. I presume you’ll be back at your family home when in Karrnath. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“Good. There will be a package there for you sometime today.”

“Ooh!” Luna, who has only been half-listening to the conversation in case Moranna asks for more things from the group, promptly perks up. “Is it the reward? Is it something shiny?”

The Regent flashes the ghost of a smile, for the first time since the Angels met her. “Yes. And I cannot say. The king would prefer it to be a surprise.”

“Oh, come ooooonn!!!”

* * *
A few minutes later, the Angels are more than two thousand miles away, walking along the skybridges of Sharn. “You know,” says Gareth, looking over the edge of the bridge, “Whenever we spend time away from here, I realize exactly how weird this place is.”

“That’s interesting,” says Six, looking in another direction. He points at another warforged some distance away, walking away from the Angels. “I think he was wearing the same harness as me. I mean the way it was before Mordain modified it. Give me a few seconds.” He speeds up and quickly catches up to the other warforged. 

“Excuse me,” says Six, “Can I speak to you?”

The other warforged comes to a stop and nods, “Yes.” Six notes that he has the thick armor plating of a model designed for heavy infantry work, and a very functional looking flail hangs by his side. Six also pays especial attention to the harness, which does look exactly like the one he had. On closer inspection, there is one difference – the symbol of the Fabricators Guild of House Cannith etched in the center of the harness.  

“My name is Mithral Six of Six. I was curious about this harness that you are wearing. Could you tell me where you got it?” _Though I think I’ve already got the answer._

“Six of Six? I have heard of you. You are one of the Guardian Angels, are you not? I am Forty-Two.” The tone and somewhat stilted manner of speech indicates to Six that Forty-Two has comparatively limited experience interacting socially with others. Forty-Two touches the harness and says, “I was given this by House Cannith. I work as a guard in the Cannith Forgehold in Ashblack in the Upper Cogs, and the House is giving these to a number of guards. It makes us stronger and more durable.” He stops speaking. 

When the silence is about to grow uncomfortable, Six says, “Thank you. That’s all I needed to do.” Forty-Two says nothing but simply watches silently, so Six gives him a friendly nod, turns and walks back to join the others. “Looks like Cannith is producing copies of the harness,” he explains. “Once we’re done with Joseth and finding out about Q’barra, I’d like to visit House Cannith before we leave. Need to talk about my finder’s fee.” _And find out exactly what it is that they’re producing._

“That should be fine,” says Gareth. “I want to visit the Cathedral and talk to the Archierophant too.”

“And at the very same moment I shall be visiting some place that is not the Cathedral and speaking to someone who is not Ythana,” says Nameless firmly. “I’m not yet sure where and who that will be, but I’m confident I’ll be busy there.”

…..

Joseth is understandably pleased to see the Angels, and even more so when he learns they are both free and in the mood for destroying a lizardfolk army. “Naturally,” he points out, “I have only limited information about the situation there, but I know for a fact that things are steadily getting worse, and I’m sure your aid will be very valuable. You should speak to First Minister Alzia ir’Kesslan when you arrive in Newthrone. Actually, how will you be going there?”

“I’ll _teleport_ us there,” says Nameless. “We’ll have to do it tomorrow morning, since we’ve got a few things to do today. So I need a particular location and a detailed description. A picture would be even better, as long as it’s accurate.” 

“I … see. I’m not sure I have a picture, but I’ll give you a specific description of part of the palace close to the First Minister’s offices. And a letter of introduction. I’ll send off a Sivis message today, which should be there by the time you arrive, but a letter will ensure there are no complications. Give me a few minutes.”

In fifteen minutes, Joseth hands the Angels a sealed letter and a detailed description of the location they should arrive at. With that taken care of, the group leaves his home and splits up, Six and Gareth going their respective ways and the others going to visit Trillia.

…..

“Greetings, Gareth,” says Ythana Morr coldly as he is shown into her office. “How may I help you?”

“Thank you for seeing me, Archierophant,” says the paladin, taking a seat, “I wanted to speak to you about a number of things. Regarding Nameless going to Flamekeep to meet the Keeper…”

Ythana cuts him off. “That will no longer be necessary.”

_Huh?_ “The Keeper doesn’t wish to speak to Nameless?” _What happened?_

“I have had a communication from Flamekeep to say that you did not need to travel there. Were you here to tell me that you were about to do so?”

“Not exactly, but we do have some free time coming up, so once we do a couple of things that are next on our agenda, we would have been able to…”

“I see. So you were _not_ intending to travel to Flamekeep right now. What else did you wish to speak to me about?”

“We destroyed an Emerald Claw operation disguised as a temple of the Blood of Vol, and I recovered a foul relic, a Tome of Undead Transformation, which they were using to create powerful undead. I was hoping that you could help me destroy it.”

“May I see it?”

“Umm … actually I loaned it to Regent Moranna in Karrnath, but I plan to bring it here once I have it back from her, and…”

“Let me see if I understand this correctly,” says Ythana, leaning forward, her tone taking on the coldness of a Karrnathi winter. “You arrived here to tell me that you and your companions were willing to go to Flamekeep, but are currently too busy to do so, and that you wished me to destroy a relic, which you do not currently have and have left in the hands of the Regent of Karrnath. Am I correct?”

_Okay – so it sounds bad when you say it that way!_ “Err … yes.”

“I’m pleased to see that I have a clear understanding. Thank you for your kindness in informing me of the above. Please feel free to stop by whenever it is convenient for you again.”

. . . . .

Six’s visit to House Cannith is significantly more pleasant than Gareth’s encounter with the Archierophant. Not only has he been there before but his reputation means he gets quicker results and is allowed to jump a few queues. Soon enough, he is sitting in a small office adjoining the Cannith laboratories. 

Rowal d’Cannith, the artificer who had studied the harness on his previous visit over a month and a half ago, enters with a pleased smile. “Six of Six! Good to see you again! What can I do for you?”

“I need a little information about that harness I showed you. I met a warforged today wearing one exactly like it, made by your Fabricators Guild. Are you producing and selling them now?”

Rowal nods, his smile broadening. “Making, not selling. At least not yet. It took a month of really complicated work, and we only started producing them two weeks ago. And we’d never have got that far, if we hadn’t coincidentally found that one of our older schemas could be applied to making them. But now we can make them and we’re testing them out on some of the Cannith warforged, before we put them on the market. At least I think that’s the plan. I’m not exactly up on the marketing end of things, and I’ve been working hard on the production angle. It’s been very exciting!” He beams at Six. “So tell me – what have you been up to? Doing well, I hope.”

The question confirms for Six, if he hadn’t been certain already, that Rowal is not a man who pays much attention to things going on outside his workshops. “Yes, I am,” he replies simply. “Have you learned anything new about the harness?”

“Not really. It has all those strengthening and protective properties you know of, and it binds to the user, which is rare for warforged components. We tried to build it without that property, but we couldn’t. And there are a couple of elements in the design that seem necessary to the whole but whose precise function we’re not sure of. That’s why we’re testing it out first before releasing it.” Rowal studies Six and says, “Your harness looks different. What did you do with it? Have you learned anything new about it?”

“Actually, it’s been drastically modified by a powerful mage named Mordain the Fleshweaver. So it’s quite different from what it was?”

“Really? I don’t know this Mordain, but it sounds very interesting. Do you think we could take a look at it sometime? How about now?”

“I am too busy right now, but maybe some other time. Also, I was wondering – could I speak to some of the people making the decisions about producing these harnesses?”

“Huh?” Rowal scratches his chin, clearly not having anticipated the request. “Sure. It would take a couple of days to arrange, but I could do that. Anything particular you want to talk to them about?” 

“Since you are producing copies of something I found, I was just wondering if I might not deserve a finder’s fee.” _And I have a few questions you probably can’t answer._

“Okay. That’s not something I have any control over, but I’m sure they’ll be willing. When would you like me to set it up?”

“How about a week from today?”

“5 Aryth? Sure. Anyway, are you sure you need to leave now? I’d really like to get a look at that harness.”

“Sorry,” says Six, “But not today. Maybe on the 5th. I’ll see you then.”

* * *
When the Angels eventually return to Gareth’s home, there is a large sealed Sivis envelope waiting for them. Luna promptly grabs it and rips it open, luckily not tearing the documents it contains. The first is a Kundarak banknote, made out to the “Guardian Angels of Sharn” and identifying the various members of the group by name, which can be deposited or exchanged at any Kundarak bank on the continent in exchange for the sum of ten thousand galifars.

“Nice!” says Luna. “That takes care of the budget for getting the furniture upholstered. Now what’s this?” She extracts a second document, this one significantly larger and much more ornate, bearing multiple signatures and two prominently displayed _arcane mark_s. She reads the first couple of lines. “Title deed to Schiffel estate? What the hell is Schiffel estate?”

“That’s the one next door to ours,” says Gareth, pointing out of a window at the abandoned estate lying in disrepair on the other side of the wall of his family’s land. 

“Hah!” Luna guffaws in amusement and then hands over the document. “Tell your mom to get used to us. We’re gonna be neighbours!”

“What?” Gareth quickly scans the document and then grins. “Luna’s right. We just got handed the estate next door. This should be interesting. It may be in disrepair now, but it used to …,” he pauses, looking at Luna, as she rises and transforms into a very large hawk. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think? I’m going exploring. Yeah, okay – I already went exploring there last night, but this time I’m doing it legally! Six – you wanna come along? The building’s gone to crap, but I took a peek last night and I think the cellars are still fine.”

“Sure,” says Six, “Should be interesting.” As he rises and strides towards the exit, Luna flies out of the window.

“Don’t forget we’re having a par…,” Gareth begins to call after them, before Korm taps him on the shoulder. The Gatekeeper shakes his head. “Why are you suggesting the woman with the _flame strike_s actually comes _back_ to a formal party?”

“Good point.” Gareth raises his voice and shouts out the window, “See you tomorrow, Luna!”

…..

Unfortunately, Luna and Six return in time for the party, with the results of their explorations. They explain that the decrepit building at the center of the Schiffel estate is in almost total disrepair, but the basement and cellars below it are in significantly better condition. “We could set up some fairly good quarters down there,” says Luna. “Six already said he’s planning to stay there while we’re in Karrnath.” The warforged nods.

“But why the cellars? It should be fairly easy to restore the building. We have the money for it, and it would just be a matter of time, and we could the grounds cleared at the same time.”

“No, no – no clearing, thank you. Leave the place overgrown. Korm and I can increase that with the right spells, and that would make it a much easier place to defend if we need to.”

“You know,” says Korm, “And I don’t normally get to say this, but Luna has a point. It would be like having our own little forest.”

“I agree,” says Six, and Nameless nods too. “All right,” says Gareth a little grudgingly, “But now we need to get ready for the party.”

Luckily, the party is much smaller than Gareth had feared, with only just over a dozen guests present, almost all of whom he knows. The entire affair is simple and comfortable, consisting of a richly traditional Karrnathi dinner followed by drinks and dessert on the sprawling verandah overlooking the estate’s gardens afterwards.

At dinner, Elaine seats Gareth next to a middle-aged man of martial bearing, whom she introduces as Marshal Arend d’Deneith. The gray-bearded warrior, whom Gareth remembers as an old friend of his father, spends most of dinner talking to the paladin. Arend congratulates Gareth and his friends on their increasing fame and on the job they did protecting Haydith. He also asks about the incident in the Lhazaar Principalities, and Gareth hastens to explain that the Angels had nothing to do with it.

Finally, Arend says, “I also have a message for you. Baron Breven d’Deneith would like to meet you.”

“All right,” says Gareth, knowing that the Baron – the head of House Deneith – is a distant cousin of his father. “Do you know why?”

“No, but I presume it’s to offer you work within the House.” Arend produces a small envelope, bearing the three-headed chimera that symbolizes House Deneith, overlaid with the personal seal of the Baron. “You’ll need this to get into Sentinel Tower and to see him. It’s effectively unheard of for the Baron to invite or make time for unaffiliated people to speak with him.” Arend smiles. “Even if it’s an unaffiliated person who’s a member of the most famous adventurers in Khorvaire.”

“Thank you,” says Gareth, recalling that on the occasions when his father had taken him to Sentinel Tower, he had never seen Baron Breven, except once in the distance. 

“Don’t thank me. You’ve earned it.” Arend smiles again. “Byron would have been proud of you and the man you have become.”

Gareth bows his head in acknowledgement. As his eyes fall on his metal hand, he wonders for a moment if his father would also have been as favorably disposed towards what he has become – especially since even he is not completely certain what it is.

* * * * * * * * * *
The next morning finds Gareth sitting across a large desk from Breven d’Deneith. The windows of the Baron’s gigantic office, high in Sentinel Tower, originally looked out over the city of Karrlakton and past the river into Cyre, but now the paladin’s eyes are constantly drawn to the wall of gray mist across the river. But his attention returns to the Baron as Breven speaks. The head of House Deneith looks the part, his granite gray hair matching a face that seems carved out of rock, and he gets directly to the point.

“I have been hearing about you and your companions a great deal recently, Gareth. According to Lord Sadran and Lalia from Sharn, you are interested in working for the House?”

_No surprise there._ “Yes, I am. But I invariably seem to have many things keeping me busy, so I was hoping I could do so in a somewhat … freelance capacity.”

“And your companions in the Guardian Angels? Would they be interested in working for the House?”

_I’m so glad Luna wasn’t here to hear this._“Actually, they’re one of the reasons I cannot commit to being a full member of the House. We all have different aims and interests, even though we work together, and I can’t see them – and, in all honesty, myself – being able or willing to follow any task the House assigns.”

“I see. I am not surprised. I am fairly well informed about your group, and I believe your abilities would be wasted in the Defenders Guild. And you need to be members of the bloodline to be Sentinel Marshals. Also, each of those roles would require you to be constantly available to the House, and that, as you say, is not possible. The best option, as I see it, is for you to take a role as auxiliaries with connections to the Blademark.” Breven leans forward on his desk and continues, “I presume you are aware of the fact that there has probably not been a team of individuals with such diverse and extensive powers as you and your allies since the early days of the War, and certainly not one that was not officially affiliated with any nation. That puts you in a very unique position. Especially since your companion Nameless is evidently able to _teleport_ you across Khorvaire now. I suggest that we establish a partnership between the Guardian Angels and House Deneith, where you will be contacted regarding situations around Khorvaire, which – if you are free – you can rapidly respond to. House Deneith can either put you in touch or handle negotiations with the concerned parties as you prefer, ensuring that they are reliable and what your appropriate payment will be.” 

“That seems reasonable, as long as it’s clear that we will not be able to accept all offers.” _I think._

“Certainly. I shall have the Sharn enclave handle the details. Will you be back there soon?”

“We plan to be back on and off in between, but we’ll be back for certain after 2 weeks. Right now we are going to Q’barra to deal with the problem with the lizardfolk.”

“I see.” Breven falls silent for a few seconds, a calculating look in his gray eyes, and then seems to come to a decision. “I wish you the best of luck.”

. . .

When Gareth rejoins the others, he gives them a quick synopsis of his meeting with Breven. The others show him an article which came out in the Korranberg Chronicle that morning. It is a small one about the Lhazaar situation, saying that Prince Ryger has announced that he accepts the Angels’ innocence regarding the attack on the Sea Dragons fleet. He also said that he is interested in speaking to them about the fact that they were framed and invites them to visit Regalport, hopefully soon. 

“I’d say that’s a politely political way of saying he wants us to do the searching for him,” says Gareth.

“Maybe, but why don’t we visit him?” says Luna.

“Huh?” Korm looks at her in surprise and with a little suspicion. “I thought you’d be screaming about him wanting to give us a job and threatening to kill him if he made an offer and us if we accepted. What gives?”

“I don’t do that!” says Luna indignantly. After looking at the four expressions (with even Six’s unchanging visage managing to convey his thoughts on the subject) that meet the comment, she throws her hands in the air and admits, “Okay, okay – I may say that sometimes! I just thought it might be fun to check this one out.”

“Why?” asks Six. “What is different here?”

Luna looks mutinous and reluctant to add more, but finally she says, “I was talking to Elaine about Ryger and she mentioned that he’s single and unattached. And supposed to be quite handsome. I was thinking that maybe I’d like to be a pirate princess.”

There is silence for a moment as everyone’s mind unwillingly comprehends the images the statement creates. “All right,” says Nameless finally, and flatly. “We’re taking Regalport off our ‘to do’ list.”

“What?! Just because I want to meet some guy? Go to hell!” Luna gives a dirty look at Korm, who has dissolved into helpless laughter, and growls, “I would make an awesome pirate princess! And just think how much you guys could make out of the deal!”

“I don’t think there’s enough money to make that worthwhile,” mutters Gareth.

“Phhftt!! You idiots are just jealous! Anyway, the Lhazaar Principalities are supposed to be beautiful, and there are tons of empty islands over there. We could easily find one of our own, to go with the house in Sharn and the estate here. I’d love to have my own island!”

“Sometimes I would love you to have your own island too,” says Six, with a metallic chuckle.

Before Luna can reply, Nameless cuts in. “Fine – we’ll visit Regalport later, but first we’re off to Q’barra. Everyone gather around.”

“Hold on,” says Gareth, heading for the door. “I have to tell mom we probably won’t be home for dinner.”

As he exits, Nameless shakes his head. “We have got to be the only adventurers on the planet who have to do that before we leave home.”


----------



## Zurai

shilsen said:
			
		

> “Don’t forget we’re having a par…,” Gareth begins to call after them, before Korm taps him on the shoulder. The Gatekeeper shakes his head. “Why are you suggesting the woman with the _flame strike_s actually comes _back_ to a formal party?”
> 
> “Good point.” Gareth raises his voice and shouts out the window, “See you tomorrow, Luna!”
> 
> …..
> 
> “Hold on,” says Gareth, heading for the door. “I have to tell mom we probably won’t be home for dinner.”
> 
> As he exits, Nameless shakes his head. “We have got to be the only adventurers on the planet who have to do that before we leave home.”




These are made of win and awesome.


----------



## Rackhir

Zurai said:
			
		

> These are made of win and awesome.




Just wait until the next installment, when we face off against a lizardmen army. Which forces us to unleash our most devastating weapon...


----------



## The_Warlock

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Just wait until the next installment, when we face off against a lizardmen army. Which forces us to unleash our most devastating weapon...




Luna, in a tutu, tapdancing on lizardmen to the sounds of "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy?"


----------



## Zurai

The_One_Warlock said:
			
		

> Luna, in a tutu, tapdancing on lizardmen to the sounds of "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy?"




Why am I suddenly reminded of the scene in Disney's Fantasia with the hippo in a tutu ballet dancing with all the crocodiles after her?


----------



## shilsen

Zurai said:
			
		

> Why am I suddenly reminded of the scene in Disney's Fantasia with the hippo in a tutu ballet dancing with all the crocodiles after her?



 Were the crocodiles screaming and crying and on fire? If not, then it's not an accurate analogue for anything involving Luna.


----------



## Vorput

::chuckles:: Luna wanting to be a pirate princess cracked me up...


----------



## Zurai

shilsen said:
			
		

> Were the crocodiles screaming and crying and on fire? If not, then it's not an accurate analogue for anything involving Luna.




Well, if we mix it with the Night on Bald Mountain scene, it works!


----------



## shilsen

The Guardian Angels appear in the middle of a large courtyard surrounded by the walls and battlements of a small palace. Standing on a low hill, the palace looks down on the surrounding buildings and streets running down to a river and, beyond it, a huge expanse of water. On the opposite side, and on the far side of the river, rise the trees of an equatorial forest that stretches to the horizon. They are in Newthrone, the capital of Q’barra, a large port city on the mouth of the Whitecliff river, where it empties into Adder Bay. The city, though far smaller than the metropolises of the Five Nations, is nearly as heavily fortified, having had to fight off Lhazaar pirates and lizardfolk for over three decades. Those in the know notice that both palace and city replicate the architecture of old Galifar, especially pre-War Cyre, giving the impression that a small part of the nation had been picked up and dropped into the jungle. 

The Angels are met by a trio of guards, startled at their sudden appearance but clearly expecting them. Once Nameless hands over the letter from Joseth ir’Kalain, they are quickly led into the palace to a meeting with Alzia ir’Kesslan. The First Minister of Q’barra and sister to King Sebastes is a rotund woman with a harried expression, who carefully reads over the letter from Joseth. Then she looks over the group and says, “Joseth speaks very highly of your abilities, and I have read of your exploits in the Korranberg Chronicle, so I’m grateful for your offer of aid. Is there any particular manner in which you thought you might be able to help?”

“We thought we’d destroy the lizardfolk army, actually,” says Nameless. Luna nods vigorously.

“You … plan to destroy the army? Alone?” Alzia’s diplomatic training allows her to pronounce the question as a polite query, but she cannot hide the expression in her eyes. 

“Yes.”

“I … see. Let me tell you a little about the situation and then you can decide what to do.” Alzia proceeds to give the Angels a crash course about Q’barra. She explains that Q’barra has two major regions settled by humans and the other common races. The central area of New Galifar consists of Newthrone and a large number of towns extending along the Whitecliff river. Alzia adds that nothing smaller than a town can hope to survive for long, due to the lizardfolk. The second populated area, called Hope, consists of refugee villages at the base of the Endworld Mountains to the west and north. 

The lizardfolk live mainly in the jungles to the north and east, and the Basura Swamp far to the northeast, and consist of three distinct types. The blackscale lizardfolk are the largest and most hostile, and they tend to guard ruins of holy significance to the lizardfolk, which dot the forest. The small poison dusk lizardfolk are stealthy and vicious, and also hostile to the settlers. The cold sun lizardfolk are the most common, and while suspicious of strangers are comparatively less hostile than the other two groups. One of the cold sun tribes, the Twilight Walkers, are actually friendly and work with the settlers, often coming to Newthrone and serving as ambassadors and guides. The three types of lizardfolk tend not to work with each other, but the blackscales sometimes influence and bully the weaker ones with their strength and position as holy guardians.

Starting nearly a month ago, groups of lizardfolk started raiding New Galifar more often and in much larger numbers than usual. It began with mainly the poison dusk and cold sun, but eventually lizardfolk of the three types were seen attacking together, which is _very_ unusual. A week ago, the town of Woodhome was attacked and burned to the ground, with almost all the two thousand inhabitants killed. The few survivors reported that an army of many hundreds, maybe thousands, of lizardfolk attacked. Not only were all three types of lizardfolk present, but some were spellcasters, there were flying lizardfolk which breathed acid and fire, and a gigantic dragon accompanied them. 

This is the point where Nameless interrupts. “A dragon? Are they certain?”

“A few of the survivors reported it, but I doubt it. The lizardfolk do venerate dragons, with some of their holy sites containing dragon skeletons, but we have never had a case of a live dragon aiding them. Right now, I’m less concerned about supposed dragons and more about the lizardfolk themselves. One army would be bad enough, but there are reports of at least two and probably three of them on the move.”

“What about these friendly lizardfolk,” Six asks. “Do they have any information?”

“Not really. The cold sun are evidently involved and while I believe the Twilight Walker tribe is not involved, they have completely cut down on communication with New Galifar too. We did manage to question some about the attacks, but they all claimed they weren’t sure why. During the attacks, however, there have been mentions of attackers shouting “Rhashaak” and “Haka’torvhak.” I have no idea what Rhashaak is, but Haka’torvhak is supposedly a holy site in the forest to the northeast.”

Luna, whose eyes have begun to glaze over during the information interchange, sits up a little and says, “Haka’torvhak? Means ‘the throne of the holy dragons’.”

The rest of the Angels turn and look at her in surprise, and Nameless says, “I believe that name refers to a site connected to the Age of Demons.” Alzia looks at him, waiting to see if he will add anything, and then continues, “If you could find out anything about the connection between Rhashaak, Haka’torvhak and these attacks, I’d appreciate it, but obviously the armies are my main concern. It seems likely that the next attack will be at the town of Whitecliff, near the headwaters of the river, over two hundred miles away. The nation of Riedra has promised aid and troops are on the way, but they will not be able to arrive and travel to Whitecliff in time. So helping fight off the attack would be the primary aim right now.” 

Nameless nods, wondering if he should mention anything about what he knows of the Riedrans and their connections with the Quori. Due to the original settlers’ repudiation of the Five Nations during the Last War, Q’barra has always made alliances with other nations, such as the Lhazaar Principalities and Riedra. Q’barra has the largest Riedran population in Khorvaire, just as it has the largest collection of Cyran refugees after Breland. For the moment, Nameless decides to say nothing about them. Instead, he says, “Not a problem. Anything else?”

“There is another issue which might be connected to these attacks, though I doubt it. As far as I know, there have been no attacks in Hope, which makes little sense. The lizardfolk prefer easy targets, and the villages in Hope regularly fall to their lizardfolk attacks. But they haven’t been touched this time. I want to know why, and that’s something which you might help investigate later.” Alzia hesitates, looking at Gareth, and then adds, “I also hear that the local leader and priest at Wyrmwatch, the largest village, is claiming that the way to be protected from these attacks is by leading a holier life. In order to achieve that, he’s enacting some of the more … outmoded aspects of the Silver Flame. Including the Purge.”

“What?!” Luna is on her feet instantly, chair crashing over.

Gareth frowns. “Now that is something I did not expect to hear.”

“Of course not,” says Korm. “Nobody expects the Thranish Inquisition.”

“Okay, where’s this guy?” growls Luna. “I’m going to go rip his head off!”

Alzia says quickly, “I understand your outrage, but this is a new development, and I assume he has done little damage yet. I would appreciate it if you focus on the army.”

“And it’s likely that he’s looking to persecute lycanthropes, just like during the original Purge,” Gareth begins, but is interrupted by a growl of “Like during the original Purge is _not_ a reassuring phrase!” 

The others also step in to calm Luna down, promising that they will travel to Wyrmwatch once the armies are dealt with and rip off heads as needed. Alzia holds her peace, but she does look relieved when Luna grumpily subsides and says she’ll be patient for the moment.

“Thank you,” says Alzia. “I think that covers everything. Is there anything else you need to know or some aid I can provide?”

Nameless says, “Yes. I need a detailed description of Whitecliff, so I can _teleport_ us there. And a door.”

“I … er, what?”

“A door. Actually, make that four doors. With a frame and supports at the bottom so that they’ll stand upright. They don’t have to be large; in fact, five feet across with the frame, at most. And I need four emeralds. This big.”

As Nameless spreads thumb and forefinger to indicate what he means, his companions stare at him. “What’s that for?” asks Korm. 

“I have a plan!” says the alienist with a thin smile, before turning back to Alzia. “Do you think you could get that?”

“I shall try to, though the emeralds may be a little difficult. Is there anything else?”

“No, that’s all.” 

Alzia has the Angels taken to a comfortable sitting room and leaves. Once she has gone, Six asks, “All right, what is this plan, Nameless?” 

The alienist chuckles. “I know a spell which affects a door and causes an explosion in a huge area around it when opened. So I thought it would be amusing and create some confusion to drop a door or two with such spells on it into the forest and let the lizardfolk stumble into them. That’s what the emeralds are for too.”

“Wow! That is really kinda nuts!” says Korm. “I approve!”

* * * * *

A few hours later, the Angels stand in the town square of Whitecliff, explaining what they want to a significantly concerned crowd, led by a confused but receptive mayor. “So we want you to stay within the town’s walls,” Nameless says, “And we’re going to put a door outside the walls. Absolutely nobody should touch it, unless they want to be blown to smithereens. It’s for any of the lizardfolk who get here while we aren’t around. Got it?”

“Yes, yes. And you will be…?”

“Going into the forest and destroying the army. We should be back tomorrow.”

With that, the Angels head into the forest. A couple of hours after they enter, they are rejoined by Luna, now in the shape of a particularly large hawk, who had flown off to locate the army. “I found them,” she says, flying down to a landing on Six’s shoulder. “There are well over a thousand of them. But not as many now. I fried a bunch!”

Her companions sigh in unison. “What part of scout their position and don’t attract attention didn’t you understand?”

“But I saw the leader-types and thought I could take them out. But they’re tough! They took one of my _flame strike_s and an _arc of lightning_ too and I only killed a couple of them. And then they jumped me and I had to run. That big leader hits really hard! Good thing I have that _dimension door_ ring or I might have got killed.”

“What big leader? Can you just tell us what the army consists of? In detail!”

“That’s what I was going to do, if you bums didn’t keep interrupting. Now pay attention! They’ve got all three of the types, like that woman we met said. Mostly the brown ones that must be the cold sun lizardfolk, and also a lot of the small green ones. They’re the only ones with bows, from what I saw. The big black ones are a lot fewer, maybe a tenth of the lot or so.”

“What about the leaders?”

“They’ve definitely got some spellcasters among the cold sun ones. Druids, I think, but weak. But the main ones are the blackscales. I saw seven that had wings, and they were also the only ones wearing armor and carrying swords, so I’m pretty sure they’re special. The biggest of them had an axe, and that’s the one who really smashed me hard. Of course, I could take him alone, but not with all his six idiot buddies backing him up. Well, four now. I fried two.”

“You know,” Gareth hazards, “Now that Luna has thrown at least a bit of a scare into them, maybe we can try talking to them and warning them that if they don’t leave, we’ll take the army apart. Maybe start off by hitting them with some large area effects to make sure they’ll listen.”

“I don’t understand this talking to them stuff!” growls Luna. “They’re an army! And they’re killing people. And believe me, I don’t think talking will work.”

“I agree,” says Nameless. “Let’s make camp, get some rest, and take out the army when we have all our spells tomorrow. How far away are they, Luna?”

“If they move at the same speed as when I left them, six-seven miles.”

“Good enough. Let’s make camp. But first, we need to set up the alarm system. Someone help me get a door out of the _portable hole_.

* * * * * * * * * *

The poison dusk scouts sit silently, the starlight gleaming greenly in their wide, lidless eyes as they watch the speaker. Even in the darkness, they can see that Kaliya’s protective coloration is the pale green which betokens confusion and fear. He says, “I was with the guardians when the shaman arrived. He was burned, badly burned, with half of his feathers scorched off. And when he transformed I’ve never seen one of them so scared. He didn’t even stop to greet them. He…”

“What did he say?” asks one of the scouts impatiently.

The older warrior frowns. “I’m telling you! Mahaal said that death and destruction has come to the first army. All of the shamans are dead, even the guardians have fallen, half of the warriors are dead and the rest have fled back into the forests.”

Gasps arise around him, even though the rumors have spread through the army. “But that cannot be!” argues one of the scouts. “There were more hair-skins than us at the big village and we slew them and burned their wooden lodges to the ground while they ran from us. How could they send enough to defeat our army in the forest?”

Kaliya hesitates, fearing what the response will be, but has nothing but the truth. “It was not an army which slew ours. It was five … creatures.”

“What?!”

As derisive cries begin to rise, Kaliya hisses over them, “Silence! I speak the truth! If you think me a liar, go ask the shamans and the guardians!” As the voices diminish slightly, he quickly continues. “Mahaal said that the day before the disaster, the army was proceeding through the forest when a large hawk attacked the leaders with powerful magic. It struck them with flames from its claws and lightning from its beak, actually slaying two of the guardians and three shamans. The other guardians attacked, led by Gaarka, but though many struck the creature it simply disappeared. Nobody knew where it came from or where it went.”

This time there is no argument, only a quiet silence, until someone says, “Then…?”

Almost disappointedly, Kaliya says, “Nothing more happened that night, but all were worried after the death of the guardians,” but quickly adds, “But the next day, something strange happened. As the army went through the forest, our egg-brothers in the lead found a door in the forest.”

“A _door_?”

“Yes, one of the hard wooden mats the hair-skins block the air from their huts with. Just standing there in the forest! With writing on it.”

“Writing?”

“Yes. Mahaal saw it later, and it said ‘Do not open.’ It was in the language of the scaled lords. So the egg-brothers opened it.”

The scouts bob their heads in understanding. That was their task, to test all that they found for potential danger. 

Kaliya flings his hands apart, startling them. “And the air around them exploded. Trees and bushes were torn to bits, and the scouts, all of them, were killed immediately, ripped into pieces.”

“But how? Why?”

“Who knows? Mahaal said it was magic, but even he was not sure, and he said he has never seen such destruction done by magic.” Kaliya’s voice falls dramatically, as he begins to enjoy the attention. “Until the demons came!”

Drinking in the rapt silence, he continues, “They rose from the forest before the army. The leader and the largest was a giant bear.”

“Bear?” asks one of the less experienced scouts.

“Yes. You see them come down from the mountains some years, thick and dark-haired, with paws that crush and fangs that rip. But this one was a giant. And it flew! And two things rode it. One looked like a hair-skin, with a giant sword and all metal armor. The other was also in metal, but also made of wood and stone, with no face, and a huge chain with blades on it. And there were two more. One was a gray-skin, but with large black wings, like those of the guardians, and a giant sword too. And the other was a hair-skin too, but with no arms, only long green tentacles in their place. Mahaal said they must have been demons.”

“Our egg-brothers tried to shoot them, but their arrows broke like branches against stone. The demon with the tentacles even seized the arrows in mid-air and hurled them back, killing the archers with their own shafts*. But otherwise they flew above the army as if it did not exist.” Kaliya pauses again, waiting for a response, and after a couple of seconds, one of his listeners asks in an awed tone, “Then what?”

“And then the forest exploded with the demons’ magic. Sheets of fire hundreds of feet wide, which hunted through the forest or our warriors as if alive, burning them alive but not touching the bushes and trees. Giant fields of light that blinded them and then scorched off their hide**. Boiling rain that fell from a clear sky ***. They used even the magic of our shamans, making the plants seize our warriors and hold them so they couldn’t flee. In seconds, hundreds were dead. Our egg-brothers and the cold sun tribes mostly, Mahaal said, but even many of the blackscales fell.”

Only faint gasps answer him, and after a dramatic pause, Kaliya continues, “Since the demons were flying, our warriors could not reach them, and our egg-brothers’ arrows were useless. But then the shamans joined the battle. They caught the demons in a storm of sleet to blind their eyes, and struck them with giant stones made of cold water.” The listening scouts shiver at the thought. Cold-blooded, born and bred in the equatorial jungles and swamps of Q’barra, their only experience of ice is through the magic of their shamans. 

Kaliya continues, “While the demons were stuck in the cloud of darkness, the guardians rose to meet them, attacking them as they emerged. The shamans aided them with their spells. The guardians struck them again and again, but their flesh was like stone. Even the blades given by Rhashaak only wounded them a little, as had the shamans’ spells. But before the shamans could help the guardians, the tentacle demon caught them in a cloud of darkness. Mahaal said the darkness was like mud, holding them in place, and it burned their scales like the acid breath of the guardians can. He fought his way through it, slowly. Luckily, he had a spell left to protect himself from the acid, and that saved him. Outside, he heard the sounds of battle continue, and the cries of the dying warriors. Finally, he emerged from one side of the cloud, just as the last of the shamans also did, from another side. And he saw…”

There is a long pause, but none of the scouts speak, and finally Kaliya does so again. “The guardians lay dead, hacked and torn to pieces, some with parts frozen as if the demons used cold magic too. The giant bear, the man with the sword and the gray-skin stood among the corpses, while the metal man flew above them. All were wounded from the guardians’ blades, some covered in blood, but they did not seem to care. Only Gaarka still flew, and he called to the army to slay them. Most had fled but some remained, especially the blackscales. They charged, in the name of Rhashaak. The other shaman cast a spell.” 

Kaliya falls silent again, bowing his head. The listeners wait expectantly, but he does not speak again. Finally one asks, almost apologetically, “Then?”

The older poison dusk warrior sighs and says, “And Mahaal saw the chain strike Gaarka from the sky, while the tentacle-demon blasted the shaman to death. That is the last thing he saw. He ran around the fog, transformed to a bird, and fled. He said the laughter of the demons and the screaming of those that had charged them followed him for miles.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Gareth casts his spell and touches the head of the corpse. After a few seconds, the dead blackscale stirs and its mouth gapes, though the lidless eyes remain blank. “All right!” says the paladin. “Ask the questions.”

“Where is Haka’torvhak?” asks Nameless. The corpse replies, “At the city of the demons.” 

The alienist nods at his companions. “I told you that armor and the axe was incredibly ancient, didn’t I?” Luna grunts from her position leaning against a tree just outside Whitecliff. “Yeah, yeah – you’re brilliant.” Turning to the corpse, she asks, “So where’s this city of the demons?”

“In the forest to the southeast.”

“We need specifics,” says Six. “How many days walk is it to the city?”

“One month.”

“A month?” asks Korm. “That seems high. Hell, they could almost cross Q’barra in that time, right?”

Luna shakes her head. “They use a different word for month in draconic. It means two weeks in our time.”

“That sounds more reasonable,” says Nameless. “So – what is your master Rhashaak?”

Despite its state and the inflectionless tone the spell makes it reply in, the corpse somehow manages to sound reverent. “He is the god made flesh.”

“Wonderful! How many others like Rhashaak are there?”

“There is only one Rhashaak. He is all.”

“That’s a little reassuring. I’d like to find out how many of these leader-types there are,” Nameless explains to the others, “And specifically like this guy, not just his support.” He then asks the corpse, “How many others _exactly_ like you are there?

“Many. We are the guardians of the holy city.”

“Only one question left,” says Gareth.

“All right,” says Nameless. “I’d like to know how these ones came to be. They’re clearly part-dragon, so I’d like to know if there are a bunch of dragons popping them out somewhere in the forest.” The others agree that it’s worth knowing, so he asks, “How did you gain your wings and ability to breathe acid?”

“The aura of the holy city touched us.” With that, the corpse shudders and falls silent.

“Okay,” says Luna. “We hung out in this dumb town till you could prepare those spells and talk to the dead guy. Now can we go back to talk to the lady? I want to go beat up another army.”


* Reverse Arrow spell from Spell Compendium
** Blistering Radiance (SC)
*** Holy Storm (SC)


----------



## Vorput

“Of course not,” says Korm. “Nobody expects the Thranish Inquisition.”

Hehehehehe....

Out of curiosity, what was that door spell Nameless used?


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> “Of course not,” says Korm. “Nobody expects the Thranish Inquisition.”
> 
> Hehehehehe....




We're very good people. All our horrible out-of-game references make sense in character. For a certain definition of "make sense" 



> Out of curiosity, what was that door spell Nameless used?




Greater Sign of Sealing, from the Spell Compendium. I realized later that Rackhir had misread it, since the door can only be opened by breaking it open (or _knock _ or _dispel magic_), and it has +10 to the DC, +10 hardness and +5 hp/lvl. So the lizardfolk wouldn't actually have got it open, but since I had them do so in-game, I put it in the writeup. Plus it didn't make a difference to the battle. But it was funny as hell when he said, "I need a door," and both Alzia and the other PCs went "Whuh?!"


----------



## carborundum

Wow - amazing!
I bet the army decimation was great fun to play and they really got to work their powers 
I can't wait til my group is a few levels higher so they can have a showing-off fight against overwhelming odds ... though those guardians sounded reasonably challenging


----------



## Rackhir

carborundum said:
			
		

> Wow - amazing!
> I bet the army decimation was great fun to play and they really got to work their powers
> I can't wait til my group is a few levels higher so they can have a showing-off fight against overwhelming odds ... though those guardians sounded reasonably challenging




Fighting an army is actually a lot tougher than it seems. Most spells have area effects that are "big" for a dungeon consisting of 10' wide hallways. However, when you're talking about an army spread over a mile or more, 20' radius doesn't really cut it and there aren't a lot of spells that cover more than that. Those few that do (almost all from the Spell Compendium) are what become your real killers, such as Blistering Radience (50' radius) or Firestorm (two 10' cubes/lvl). I think Wall of Fire is the only PHB spell with a really large area of effect (20'/level length). You don't actually need that much damage as much as you need area for fighting an army.

Also there's the simple problem of numbers. If 1% of an army of a thousand is casters then you've got 10 guys casting at you a round, with potentially 10 saves you've got to make. Characters probably only fail on a 1, but if you're rolling 10 of them a round... If 20% is missile troops and 1 in 20 rolls a natural 20 then you have 10 people a round scoring a hit and a 50% chance of taking a crit as well. Spells like Protection From Arrows or Reverse Arrows (SC) definitely are your friends here.

If you're DMing an encounter like this, the numbers issue is where you really need to think things through. A horde of low level casters tossing debilitating spells at PCs can be far more devastating than you might think, IF there are enough of them. Likewise with the archers and such. Never underestimate the ability of 300 attack rolls to inflict damage.

The most important role that the guardians (or similar foes) perform in an encounter like this, is to give the melee (non-caster) characters something to do and a chance to shine. Since the ability to kill even a handful of grunts each round, doesn't make much of a difference and the fighter types simply can't wipe out large swaths of enemies the way the casters can.


----------



## carborundum

Hmm, never thought of that 
We played Sinister Spire a while back and flew over a canyon full of skeletons with bows. Our 10th level characters occasionally got hit on a 20 but never got critted. I didn't really think about that encounter until just now since we never went on the offensive further and just carried on.
If only you'd been playing 2e, with a 10' radius indoors being 10 yards outside! Or was that 1e? Been so long ...


----------



## Rackhir

carborundum said:
			
		

> Hmm, never thought of that
> We played Sinister Spire a while back and flew over a canyon full of skeletons with bows. Our 10th level characters occasionally got hit on a 20 but never got critted. I didn't really think about that encounter until just now since we never went on the offensive further and just carried on.
> If only you'd been playing 2e, with a 10' radius indoors being 10 yards outside! Or was that 1e? Been so long ...




The distance change was in 1e. I can't comment on 2e since I never played that.

Technically, a second natural 20 doesn't guarantee a confirmation. However I figure if you get two natural 20s in a row, you probably deserve the crit. The Angels are also somewhat unusual in that almost all of them can get their ACs into the 30s, which most non-"named" NPC can't reach even if they do roll a 20.

Besides, if you thought us kicking the army around was impressive. Just wait until you see us take on a village of farmers!


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> Wow - amazing!
> I bet the army decimation was great fun to play and they really got to work their powers




Yes, they did. I'm a big believer in high-level PCs getting opportunities to show off their power. Plus it provides a welcome distraction from the times when they're getting mugged while buying the newspaper 



> I can't wait til my group is a few levels higher so they can have a showing-off fight against overwhelming odds ... though those guardians sounded reasonably challenging




Each was a half-dragon blackscale Bbn1 (CR 6) and the leader was a Bbn4 (CR 9), with a little lower equipment than recommended for their CR. But I think it's safe to say they were punching above their level, as you'll see when I get around to writing up the second battle.

I was going to add a bit about the battle, but I think Rackhir covered it all, from both the DM and the player perspective.


----------



## shilsen

*Lizardfolk Army Deep-Fried (Part 1)*

Once they have finished interrogating the dead lizardfolk, the Angels _teleport_ back to the palace in Newthrone. Minutes after they arrive, they are seated across from Alzia, who doesn’t look any the less harried than on their previous meeting two days ago. “What is the situation with the army?” she says without preamble.

“The army’s gone,” says Gareth. “We destroyed it.”

“You … destroyed it? All of it?”

“Not each and every one, but we killed a substantial number, and the last we saw of the survivors they were fleeing into the forest.”

“I’m pleased to hear that. What sort of losses did the townspeople suffer?”

“None,” says Nameless. “We went into the forest and destroyed the army, so that the town wouldn’t be at risk.”

“So just the five of you went into the forest and destroyed an army of some two thousand lizardfolk?”

Korm grins at Alzia’s expression and glances at Six, saying mock-seriously, “No, I think it was more like one and a half thousand, right?” Six nods.

After a slightly stunned silence, Alzia says, “If I hadn’t done some checking on you in your absence, I would have a lot more difficulty believing you, and even now it’s an amazing story. Naturally, I’m very relieved and pleased at your success. Tell me, did you learn anything about the reasons for the attacks?”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “We questioned their leaders and learned a fair bit. Especially since they were dead at the time.” He proceeds to describe their questions and the answers they received, which Alzia notes down. When Nameless is done, she says, “Thank you. This could be very useful towards the end of ending the attacks permanently. Of course, right now the remaining armies are a more immediate problem.”

“Of course,” says Gareth. “Do you know where the second army is?”

“The general area, yes. This is actually the army which destroyed the town of Woodhome, and it is now nearing another one, about fifty miles from Whitecliff and thrice that from Newthrone. I expect the Riedran troops that have been promised us to arrive tomorrow, but there is no way they can be mobilized and travel up the river in time.” She looks expectantly at the Angels and Gareth quickly says, “Don’t worry. We shall take care of them. If you can provide a detailed description, Nameless will transport us there immediately.”

As Alzia thanks him, Nameless says, “This may be a little confusing for you, but I think it’s important that I warn you. Be careful of the Riedrans.”

Clearly quite surprised, Alzia stares at him. “What do you mean?”

“Precisely what I said. Our experiences, and some personal knowledge I have, have given us serious reason to suspect the Riedrans. Do you know anything of the Quori?”

“Quarry? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Quori. They are a particularly dangerous – and foul – kind of extraplanar creature that can only enter our reality by possessing someone. The Riedrans have significant connections with them, and some of us were actually possessed by them at one point. You know of the kalashtar, right?”

Alzia continues to look confused. “Yes, but there are almost no kalashtar here.”

“Understandably, since the Riedrans have more influence in your nation than anywhere else on Khorvaire. The kalashtar oppose them – and vice versa – because they know of the issue with the quori. The ones that possessed my companions did so to try and kill the leader of the kalashtar in Sharn. And they were able to do so because of specially prepared items we were given. I highly recommend that you accept no gifts from the Riedrans, or anything created by them.”

“All right. I’ll remember that,” says Alzia, her expression clearly neutral.

“He is correct,” says Six solemnly. “I recommend that if you have any meetings with the Riedrans you have no contact with anything. It would probably be better to be naked. And to give up sleeping, if you can avoid it.” 

Alzia’s neutral expression dissolves into shock, and Nameless bestows a glare on Six – and one on Luna, who is choking quietly in a corner of the room at the warforged’s suggestion – before addressing Alzia again. _Somehow I doubt this’ll work, but it’s worth trying._ “Considering that these attacks by the lizardfolk is ensuring that many more Riedrans are entering Q’barra, I think it’s at least worth considering the possibility that the Riedrans are behind it in some way. All I am asking is that you be wary of them and consider if any offers of aid have a hidden agenda.”

“All right,” says Alzia. “Thank you for the information.” After waiting for a moment to see if there is more, she says, “Excuse me while I find some directions for you.”

Once she leaves, Nameless asks Six, “Did you really have to pull out that advice right now? I doubt she would have believed me anyway, but definitely not after that!”

Six shrugs. “I still think half of your species’ problems – for all of you – arise because you insist on sleeping. You really should try to give it up.”

* * * * *

Since the others are unable to comply with Six’s suggestion, that night finds them preparing to bed down in the forests of Q’barra, near the second army. 

“Remember,” Nameless reminds the others, “We leave before dawn, so we can hopefully catch them while they are still encamped.”

“Yeah, yeah, you said that thrice already,” says Luna, as she plants the Staff of Survival in the ground, causing it to extend into a sapling twenty feet high. As usual, magical fruits sprout from the trunk and an opaque gray half-sphere extends around it, enclosing the group. Luna reaches up for one of the berries and then stops, raising a hand to her temple. 

“What happened?” Korm asks.

“Another telepathic message,” she says with a grimace. “Same guy who contacted us in Aundair and on the airship. He says, ‘Believe you are fighting lizardfolk in Q’barra. Highly recommend that you stop and leave country. There is more danger than you know. Especially for Nameless.’” She pauses for a moment and then continues, “Now he says, ‘Have potential – if temporary – solution for Nameless situation. Possibility that his affliction could be transferred to someone else who has the right connections with Xoriat.’” She stops and looks at the others. “What should I reply?”

Nameless frowns. “Don’t. I’m getting tired of these messages. Don’t reply at all.”

“Wait,” says Six. “I’d like to know something, and they might have useful information. Ask if there is a problem in attacking the armies or in attacking the source of the armies.”

Luna does so, and then relates the answer – “Armies may be more dangerous than you know. You should not take such risks. Especially with Nameless’ current situation. You should return to Sharn.”

“That was no help. Seriously, Luna, stop answering,” Nameless insists.

Luna nods and reports that the voice finally fades away, after asking multiple times what they are planning to do and why she is not answering. “Sounded a little pissed off by the end,” she says with a grin, before adding “Serves him right for bothering me.”

“I doubt that’ll be the last time they do so,” says Nameless, settling down for the night. “I wonder if such communication allows them to track our movements. They’re evidently aware of our actions here, but if these are the Riedrans, that’s not too surprising.”

“Speaking of following our movements,” says Gareth, pointing at Edgar, who has walked out of the belt pouch where he normally resides and taken up a position beside Nameless’ bedroll, spindly legs curled under him. “We’re moving around with that thing … whatever it is … on us. Have you considered that it might be a trap or a way for Mordain to track or spy on us?”

Nameless laughs sardonically. “Yes, I’ve considered that Edgar could be, but to what end? I’m quite certain Mordain could find us wherever we are, and he already knows everything there is to know about us. Everyone seems to know about things that we don’t want them to, anyway, whether it is the Key or this,” he gestures at his chest, “So it’s a little late to worry about it. You can ask Mordain next time we see him.” The alienist pauses, feeling the effects of the _geas_ at the thought, and then grimaces slightly. “Clearly we’re not returning there yet.”

“No. How many days since we left there, Nameless?” asks Luna.

“Let’s see. It was the 7th of Aryth, and this is the 1st of Vult. So 22 days. Depending on how long it lasts, I’ll know precisely how powerful he is.”

“Good. Now let’s pack up, shall we?” says Korm. He glances over at Six. “And you don’t go waking us just because our lips move when we sleep, okay?”

“I am just taking precautions against possession,” says the warforged placidly. 

* * * * * * * * * *

The Angels arise well before dawn the next day. Despite the time of night, the surrounding forest is comparatively well lit by the combination of starlight and the beams of the moon Nymm, now at the full. Her sisters Sypheros, Barrakas and Vult, all heading towards fullness, and Rhaan, fading away from it, add their light to the scene. 

The rest of the Angels settle down to prepare their spells while Six keeps watch. Only minutes after they began, the warforged hears the stealthy movement of multiple bodies above the quiet sounds of the early morning forest. He gives a quiet warning, adding, “I don’t think they are lizardfolk. Maybe half a dozen coming from that direction. And about the same number from over there.” Luna, Korm and Gareth quickly arise, but Nameless only says, “You guys take care of it,” before returning to his studies.

Nameless’ lack of participation is of little aid to the band of forest trolls who rush out of the forest from both sides of the party. A similar group of trolls had given the Angels a problematic fight on the island near Xen’drik five months ago, but times – and the Angels – have changed. After a few seconds of flashing steel and the requisite _flame strike_, the burned and bleeding survivors flee screaming back into the forest.

“Come back and fight, you wussies!” Luna shouts after them, before grumbling and turning away. She belatedly notices a poisoned spear sticking out of her shoulder, growls and pulls it out. “I hope the army is a little more fun!”

. . . . .

A little over two hundred yards away, two cold sun lizardfolk exchange worried glances, before turning to look again in the same direction. “You are sure of what you saw?” asks one. 

“Yes,” says the other. “I am certain. It was magic. Perhaps a _flame strike_.”

“All right. It may be the demons Mahaal spoke of. We need to return and warn them. Fast!”

Both of the shamans transform, taking the shape of eagles, and take wing. Then they flap their way towards the east as fast as they can.


----------



## shilsen

*Lizardfolk Army Deep-Fried (Part 2)*

An hour and a half later, some five miles to the east of their camp, Nameless looks around at his companions. “So we’re all clear on the strategy, right? Gareth, Six and I are coming in from the northwest, and you two,” he looks at the druids, “From the southwest, starting about five hundred feet from us. When we get about three hundred feet from each other, we box the bulk of the lizardfolk between three _wall_s _of fire_. Leave gaps at the corner to funnel them in. Then follow up with three more to close the box. And then we make them unhappy for being in the box.”

Luna flashes a large ursine grin in anticipation. “Sounds good to me. Just make sure you three don’t get killed while I’m not there to protect you.” She glances at Korm. “But I’ll look after you.”

The Gatekeeper shakes his head and says nothing, idly patting the back of the large black _phantom stag_ which he summoned a few moments ago. 

“All right,” says Nameless. “Let’s do this.”

. . . . .

As planned, the Angels angle in from two directions, steadily closing on the lizardfolk army and making sure to stay low, using the large equatorial trees of the Q’barran forest for cover. As they pass over the outlying screen of poison dusk scouts, there are a couple of scattered cries as a particularly alert watcher sees the figures flash past overhead, but few are studying the sky or even awake at this point. By the time the alarm slowly spreads, the Angels are well past and closing on the bulk of the army.

Though they are too high and moving too fast to pick out precise details, the Angels see that the lizardfolk are spread across in the forest floor in small groups, evidently using no tents or any structures to make camp, simply clumping together to sleep. Nameless picks an appropriate area and then transmits over a pre-cast _telepathic bond_ to the druids, “I’m going to start it off. Luna, put your _wall_ north to south at ninety degrees to mine from the west end, and Korm, you throw yours up parallel to mine at the southern end of Luna’s.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luna growls back over the _bond_, “Stop talking and just do it.”

Nameless shrugs mentally and complies, causing a twenty-foot high and two hundred and sixty foot long wall of flames to erupt. Shocked screams erupt from those that are caught in the flames, devolving into the groans of the dying and echoed seconds later by shouts of alarm from the hundreds shocked into wakefulness by the sight. The cries and screams increase substantially in volume as Luna’s and Korm’s _wall_s appear to, linking to Nameless’ to create a gigantic three-sided box. 

The Angels swoop in, prepared to close off the far end of the box with another trio of _wall_s, and the two druids cast theirs perfectly. But before Nameless can cast his, there is an unexpected interruption.

As Nameless flies in, with Gareth and Six flanking him some fifteen feet away, the warforged’s preternatural eyesight lets him notice what seem to be four eagles flying out of the darkness. If their complete unconcern at the noise of the lizardfolk and the lurid flames of the magical _wall_s weren’t enough to arouse suspicion, they are heading directly for the three Angels. Even as Six shouts a warning, the eagles screech and gesture with their talons in a manner that he has seen Luna do often enough.  

There is a burst of sound and a roar directly above the Angels, and all three look up as a gigantic form appears in mid-air, barely twenty feet above their heads. Their startled eyes meet the gaze of two ancient orbs, set deep in the sockets of a tapering head that resembles a gigantic, reptilian skull. Two horns, each as long as one of the Angels, curve forward to bracket the skull, and a large crest rises from between them to snake its way down the long serpentine neck. The body and tail, covered in large scales ranging from dull ebony to a mottled gray, stretch a further sixty feet. The four limbs, terminating in claws the size of swords, hang below it. A flat tongue extends from the half-open mouth, acidic slime drooling from its forked tip. The gargantuan black dragon looks down at the Angels and roars its challenge, and cries of “Rhashaak!” rise from the forest to greet it.

_Sh*t! We’re dead!_ The thought flashes through Nameless’ mind a split second before he registers what his magically enhanced sight is telling him. The ‘dragon’ overhead is a spell effect. “It’s an illusio…,” he begins to say, before recognizing the tell-tale signs in the aura, very distinct from that of illusory magic. _Evocation?_

Before he can add any more, the giant dragon raises its wings and flaps them, once, twice, and again. Each beat sends a powerful blast of air slamming down onto the Angels. The first knocks them fifty feet downwards, and the next smashes them through the intervening branches and bushes to the ground below with bone-shattering force. Which, in their case, leaves them slightly bruised. As they hit the ground, the dragon disappears, the spells that manifested it ending*. But the remaining two shamans complete their spells, causing the three Angels to glow lavender with _faerie fire_, clearly demarcated for their enemies.

Luckily, since they landed outside the giant box created by the flaming walls, the bulk of the army is separated from them. Even so, a few dozen lizardfolk see the three and rush them, screaming bloody vengeance for the allies who they can hear dying within the _wall_s. The closest of the poison dusk warriors hurl nets onto them as they momentarily lie prone. 

But the Angels all have significant protective spells on them, and the nets slide off their forms, all imbued with _freedom of movement_ spells. “Time to get back up and take those shamans down!” says Nameless, and all three rise into the air, followed by disappointed cries and a few ineffectual arrows and javelins.

Unfortunately, the brief delay has given other enemies a chance to get into the battle, and the magically-lit Angels are easy to pick out. The blackscale guardians charge into the Angels, draconic wings propelling them at incredible speed. As with the first army, there are six of them led by a larger specimen, and this time Luna’s forbearance means that all of them are present. Two each head for Nameless and Gareth, while the leader and another two attack Six. The shamans aid them with their spells, whether beams of _searing light_ or others that strike the Angels with numbing cold.**

If the odds were not bad enough for the three Angels, this is when luck completely deserts one of them. Nameless and Gareth, though both wounded, manage to dodge or deflect a couple of attacks, the paladin’s _cloak of minor displacement_ coming in especially handy. Six is not as lucky. His harness wraps him in shadows that shift constantly as he moves***, aiding him as the cloak does Gareth, but one of the guardians manages to land a lucky hit. It knocks the warforged sideways, disrupting his defenses just as the blackscale leader swings his sword in a huge overhand chop. The blade blasts through the shadowy concealment and into Six’s chest. The warforged’s modification by first the harness and then Mordain makes his mechanical vitals difficult to target****, but sheer happenstance drives the sword into a seam in his plating. Alchemical fluid sprays like blood and Six’s entire breastplate crumples. 

The only luck that Six has is in being airborne, since the blow knocks him flat on his back and down a couple of feet, robbing it slightly of momentum. If he had been on the ground it would possibly have torn him asunder, but here it leaves him barely clinging onto consciousness and almost nonfunctional*****. Hoping that the enemies won’t be able to tell the difference, Six promptly drops his chain and floats there, arms and legs trailing, as if he were unconscious or dead. 

_Sh*t!_ Wounded and with only one ally, Nameless frantically calculates his options. _I’d like to drop a Cloudkill on them and Dimension Door away, but I can’t cast both fast enou…_, he begins to think, when he feels a tickle in his mind. The whispery voice is instantly recognizable as the one in which Edgar, on very rare occasions, communicates with him – _Do it! I shall help you._

With two of the guardians roaring into his face and slashing at him, the alienist doesn’t even consider arguing. Dodging beneath a sword, Nameless conjures a _cloudkill_ around Six, Gareth and the enemies around them. “Stay in there, Gareth!” he shouts. “I’ll be back with the other two!” _I hope!_ Nameless attempts to cast the next spell, knowing that he still lacks the enormous expertise needed to cast two spells of this power in such a short time. But as he focuses, he feels a warmth flare against his belly, from the pouch where Edgar resides, and suddenly the arcane formula leaps into his mind with dizzying speed. Nameless speaks a word and disappears.

…

Across the battlefield, things have been going substantially better for the two druids, but even they have a few problems. After throwing up the last two _wall_s, they begin to indulge themselves in different ways. Luna unleashes a _fire storm_ that decimates the lizardfolk trapped within the gigantic box of flame, but Korm decides to take a more hands-on role, flying down on his summoned stag to slash into the first of the blackscales he sees. As the headless body topples, Korm hurls his meteoric blade. The sword scythes through a row of enemies and the Gatekeeper bellows an orcish war-cry. 

A few of the poison dusk warriors in the area shoot at him, to no avail, and then turn and flee. But as Korm’s sword flies back into his hand, a different missile hits him. The bola wraps around his neck just as he urges the stag forward towards a clump of enemies, and to Korm’s surprise, flips him backwards off the stag’s back and to the ground.****** To add injury to insult, a few blackscales charge him, brandishing their clubs and foaming at the mouth with rage.

Luna, looking down at the scene, laughs and shouts, “Need some saving, Korm?” Then a searing pain burns into her shoulder and she growls and spins around in mid-air. A large shadow, though significantly dwarfed by her bulk, swoops out of the darkness, revealing itself as a dire bat. Luna’s eyes narrow and she growls, “There’s only space for one big flying druid here,” and drops a column of flame around the bat. It screams as the flames scorch its hair and rip small tears in its wings, but remains aloft, clearly protected against fire to some degree. 

As Luna growls even more loudly, a figure outlined in lavender flames appears near her. “Hey, Nameless!” she chuckles, ignoring the bat for a few seconds, “You look pretty. And beat up.”

“_Faerie fire!_,” the alienist says shortly, dropping down to use a tall tree’s branches as cover. “And we got trouble there. Six is down. I left Gareth in a _cloudkill_ to protect him. Where’s Korm? And who’s the bat?”

“Some idiot shaman. And there’s Korm.” Luna points as the Gatekeepers rises from amongst a clump of blackscales, stoically absorbing a blow to the shoulder before he eviscerates the attacker with a single sweeping stroke. Then she floats towards Nameless, extending a paw. “Let me drop a _heal_ on you.”

“No!” says Nameless urgently, recalling the possibility that the spell might heal his ‘affliction’ and remove all the benefits he gets from it. As Luna gives him a puzzled look, he says, “I’m okay. Really. Speaking of which….” He transmits to Six and Gareth, “_You guys okay?_”

…

“_Little busy, Nameless, but yes_,” Gareth transmits back, as he hears the sound of the blackscales flapping their way into the _cloudkill_ in search of him. Then he grins at the sound of a strangled gasp nearby, followed by a thump some distance below him as a body hits the forest floor. “_At least your spell’s whittling them down._”

“_I’m alive too_,” transmits Six, triggering the wand held in the sheath he had built into his form months ago, feeling parts of his superstructure slowly unbuckle and straighten itself. A second later, an eagle flaps past his face, pausing to consider his floating form and evidently not realizing that the warforged is still functional. “_Gareth – watch out!_”

Even as the warning rings in his mind, multiple enemies locate Gareth. One of the guardians roars a warning to the others as it sights him, swings up its sword and then collapses as the poisonous vapors of Nameless’ spell take effect. But two more are rushing in, along with the leader, and the eagle-shamans also head in the same direction with triumphant screeches. The paladin whirls and dodges amongst them, the combination of Mordain’s magical protections, heavy armor, his cloak and the partial concealment afforded by the _cloudkill_ aiding him, but there are just too many enemies to remain unscathed. 

A sword crunches painfully into his knee, cracking bone, and as he bats aside one of the shamans, another drives its talons into the back of his head. Though Gareth’s helmet prevents actual contact, the shaman’s claws flare with magic and the paladin shudders as he feels valuable energy flow out of him. Before the paladin can turn to retaliate, the roaring leader is in his face, hugely muscled arms bringing its blade around in a disemboweling slash. Gareth’s armor holds, but even the magical metal buckles at the impact, and a burst of agony flares from his shoulder to his waist as multiple ribs are shattered under the blow. 

“Six! Get in here!” Gareth shouts both verbally and mentally, before adding a prayer to the Flame. Spinning in a circle despite the pain shooting up his side, Gareth uses the momentum of his foe’s attack to aid his own, calling on every power granted by the Flame to further empower it. The Endless Blade flashes with silver fire and depicts a neat half-circle, biting through scales, muscle, flesh and bone. The blackscale leader’s eyes continue to glare into Gareth’s for a second, and then fall away as its body and head part company. 

But as the leader falls, its enraged allies swarm over Gareth. More claws strike his back with the same draining effect, and then the remaining guardians are biting and cutting into him. A sword-slash tears open his side and then a second strikes through the weaker part of his armor under the arm, punching through his armpit and puncturing his left lung. Everything goes black and Gareth collapses, blood streaming from multiple wounds*******.

Ironically, and unseen by the Angels, the few seconds that Gareth takes to fall are enough to slay his enemies. The time they have had to spend in the _cloudkill_ finally overcomes their resistance and one by one, they drop. The last of the shamans turns to flee the poisonous cloud, only to see Six’s chain leaping at it. As it falls, the last guardian seizes Gareth’s floating body, planning to take him as a trophy. But even as its wings propel it forward, it shudders and falls.

. . .

On the other side, Luna and the shaman-bat exchange spells for a few seconds, but the latter has neither the shifter’s power nor her resistance to damage, and with Nameless taking a hand too, it is soon on the verge of death. As she prepares to take it down, the bat desperately casts a familiar spell, encasing itself in a greenish-yellow _cocoon_. 

“Oh, come on!” growls Luna, before Nameless says, “Just _dispel_ it.” Her attempt to comply fails and leaves the bear even more upset than before. 

“Here’s how you do it.” The alienist casts, and has the pleasure of seeing the _cocoon_ disappear even as a panicked expression appears on the bat’s face. Swiftly replaced by a terminal one as a swift volley of _magic missile_s blast it from the sky.

“Son of a bitch – that was mine!” growls Luna, before beginning to cast another spell. “Korm!” she shouts as she does so, “Get your ass out of there!”

Below, the Gatekeeper is holding off four enraged blackscales at once. Strong as the hulking lizardfolk are, they lack the strength and, more importantly, the defenses of the guardians. Every cut and slash of Korm’s sword is followed by a spray of blood, and its effects are underlined by the circle of bodies that already lies around him. However, with the odds are heavily against him and his foes boasting significantly stronger offense than defense, Korm is far from unscathed, his upper torso and ripped tunic incarnadined by the blood streaming from multiple shallow wounds. Already considering retreat, Luna’s warning makes the decision for him. 

“Sorry, kids – I’ve gotta go!” Korm grunts, spinning his sword in a circle to force his enemies back. Then, calling on a rarely-used ability, he fixes the closest enemy with a glare. The blackscale quails at the malign power of the Gatekeeper’s gaze, stumbles backwards, and flees screaming. As its allies pause in confusion, Korm leaps away in the opposite direction, mentally thanking the Gatekeeper who had trained him in the use of the evil eye. A quick whistle and the stag, which has been trampling the few cold sun and poison dusk lizardfolk who have remained, turns and rushes toward Korm. As it comes, he leaps forward and throws his arms around its neck, not even bothering to try and mount. The magical deer’s hooves crunch over the fallen foes once, twice and then it is airborne, heading back towards the other Angels. The blackscales that had rushed after Korm howl their disappointment, and then Luna’s patented column of fire explodes among them. When the blast clears, all of them lie dead, driving the few remaining lizardfolk into even more of a panic. 

“That seems to have done the job,” Nameless says. “Let’s go back and find some corpses to talk to.” He pauses as Six sends a message. “And put Gareth back together.”

* Downdraft, from the Spell Compendium
** Hypothermia
*** Child of Shadow stance from Bo9S
**** 75% immunity to criticals
***** He got dropped well past -10 and only kept alive by throwing in three cards. PCs dropped to -10 and saved by cards are normally out of a fight, but since there was a card that allowed PCs between -1 to -9 to rise to 0 hp, I let him do so. Esp. since it seemed they needed it. See – I am an angel too!
****** Yes, the 13th lvl druid berserker with 26 Strength got dropped flat on his ass by a 1st lvl ranger’s bola
******* Also dropped past -10


----------



## Vorput

My puppy demands an update!

...it's late, this is the wittiest bump I could come up with.  And isn't he cute?


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> My puppy demands an update!
> 
> ...it's late, this is the wittiest bump I could come up with.  And isn't he cute?



 Very nicely disguised bump! Or at least it was till you pointed out that it was one. But yes, he's cute. 

I've been a little busy and taking it easy on updates, but I'll have one up tomorrow or on Monday.


----------



## shilsen

And here we go (in two shorter segments, due to the changes to the messageboards for now)...


“All right,” says Gareth, “I’m ready to ask the questions. Korm, can I have the bead?” The Gatekeeper hands over a strand of prayer beads, and Gareth activates one with a word and a thought. Then he grasps his holy symbol and casts a spell over the leader of the blackscale guardians. The corpse doesn’t respond in any way, and Gareth shakes his head. “Didn’t work. At least I’ve got three left. Let’s try the shaman.”

This time, the spell takes effect and the corpse’s jaws move silently, as it awaits the questions. After a quick discussion with the others, Gareth asks a series of questions. The corpse obediently, if not particularly fluently, answers.

Q: When did Rhashaak first appear? 
A: Rhashaak has always been here

Q: When did Rhashaak start telling you to kill humans? 
A: Two months ago. 

Q: Was there a specific event that led to Rhashaak telling you? 
A: I do not know. It is not for us to ask.

Q: Have you noticed any changes in Rhashaak? 
A: I do not know. I have not seen Rhashaak.

Q: Who is telling you what Rhashaak wants, if you haven’t seen him? 
A: The guardians of the holy city speak for Rhashaak

Q: Is there any particular guardian who speaks for Rhashaak? 
A: Yes

Q: Where in the holy city is this guardian to be found? 
A: He stays beside the altar where the sacrifices occur. 

The corpse falls silent as the spell ends. “So it began a month ago, considering how their definition of time differs from us,” says Nameless.

“Am I the only one suspicious of this guardian speaking for Rhashaak?” asks Six. “It sounds like human politics to me. I think we should try to find out more about it.”

“Agreed.” Gareth proceeds to attempt to speak with the corpses of two of the blackscale guardians. The first resists, but the second succumbs to the spell.

Q: What is the name of the guardian who speaks for Rhashaak?
A: Huu’rak

Q: When did Huu’rak start speaking for Rhashaak? 
A: Many moons ago. 

Q: Why is Huu’rak the one who speaks for Rhashaak?
A: Rhashaak appointed the line of his speakers and Huu’rak is the speaker now.

Q: Was there any reason beside Rhashaak’s order that began the recent attacks? 
A: No. That was the reason.

Q: What will the lizardfolk armies do if defeated?
A: They shall send messengers to Rhashaak and return to the forests.

Q: Will the attacks end as long as Rhashaak wishes them to continue?
A: No. 

Q: What will happen to the attacks if Rhashaak dies or is slain?
A: He will not die and none can slay him. 

When the spell ends, Gareth says, “That’s all I can find out. And I think we found out what we need to know. Let’s head back to Newthrone and tell Alzia what we found out.”

“So, are we going to go look for this Rhashaak?” asks Luna. “Not that I have any problems with that, but I’d like to go meet Prince Ryger first.”

“What about the third army?” asks Korm. “And the crazy Flamers and their Purge?”

“I’ll come along for the army, since you idiots will probably all get killed without me to protect you, but you can handle the Flamers, I’m sure. I’ve got a pirate prince to talk to.”

Korm grins. “From what you said earlier, it didn’t sound like talking was what you had in mind.” Luna grins back. “Well, I think there’ll be _some_ talking.”

Gareth shakes his head disgustedly. “Suddenly I feel even better that we’re not going along. Nameless, can we leave now?”

* * *

Alzia shakes her head in sincere appreciation and admiration. “Both armies! And now my sources say that the third one is breaking up and retreating into the forests, I presume having learned what happened to the others. Your actions have saved the lives of hundreds, and likely thousands. The nation of Q’barra is in your debt. How can I reward you?” 

“Do you have an airship?” asks Luna immediately, a second before Gareth says, “No payment is necessary.”

Alzia keeps a creditably straight face as the druid rounds on the paladin. “Unfortunately, no – I do not have an airship. But a reward has certainly been earned, and” she indicates a document and a coffer at her right hand, “I can either give you 20,000 galifars or the equivalent in Eberron dragonshards. The former would be easier to use, of course, but being adventurers and having an interest in magical items,” her eyes flicker to Luna, “I thought that you might prefer the dragonshards, since they can be used for crafting purposes.”

“That is true,” says Six. “Stone could use them, in payment or for some of the items we have ordered from him.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” says Luna, looking around at the others for support. “I don’t want to ever see another dragonshard again.”

“You know, Luna,” says Nameless, “We’re surrounded by them in Sharn.” He turns to Alzia. “We shall take the dragonshards, thank you.”

Luna snorts disgustedly as Korm picks up and puts the coffer away, and then says, “I’d also like a bottle of fine wine.” As her companions turn to her in surprise, she explains, “I want to take a gift for my date.”

“Oh boy! She’s going to make the poor bastard drunk and have her way with him!” Korm mutters, drawing a glare from her. Alzia diplomatically displays no signs of having heard the comment and says, “Certainly. I shall see what I can find. But tell me – what do you plan to do now? In view of what you have discovered, I would like you to investigate this Rhashaak and Haka’torvhak, if you are free. I have already found a guide who can take you to the general area.” She gestures at the door and a man who looks to be in his late thirties, with weather-beaten skin and the garb of an explorer, steps in. He makes an awkward bow, as Alzia says, “This is Lothir.”

“What do you think?” asks Korm of the others. “Our _phantom stag_s and _steed_s can fly now, so we can do that a lot quicker than we could earlier.”

“Maybe once we’re done with Haydith?” asks Gareth.

“I have to meet with the Cannith people in a couple of days too,” says Six.

“And I’m going to see Ryger,” reminds Luna.

“As you can see,” says Gareth to Alzia, “We have many things on our plate now. Also we want to go and deal with the situation in Hope now.”

Alzia looks slightly disappointed, but only says politely, “It seems that the situation with the armies had nothing to do with it. The people of Wyrmwatch have made their choices and their problem is their own, isn’t it?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” says Gareth firmly. “We are certainly interested in this matter of Rhashaak, but will be unable to deal with it now. If and when we have the time, we shall contact you.”

“Very well,” Alzia sighs. “Thank you again for your invaluable aid. I hope I shall see you again soon.” 

When the Angels are outside, Nameless studies the directions he had been given earlier. “Evidently they don’t get much traffic to this area called Hope, so the description will only take us to the general whereabouts of the village. Everyone ready to go?”

“Nope. I’m going to meet Ryger.”

“Alone? Do you think that’s a good idea?” asks Gareth.

“Actually,” says Nameless, “Do you really want to be with Luna while she’s on an island jumping some poor guy’s bones?”

“Good point,” says Gareth. “Have fun, Luna. Don’t bite him too hard.”

Luna opens her mouth, but before she can retort the others are gone. “Idiots!” she grunts, and then transforms into a bird. She flaps slowly into the air and heads towards the forests that border Newthrone.

* * *

Luna steps out of a tree and looks around. The weather is significantly different than it was in the forests of Q’barra where she entered a similar tree. Now thousands of miles to the north, the air around her is almost as cool as in Karrnath, made slightly milder and more humid by the proximity to the ocean that she can see in the distance. The druid transforms into a large seagull and flies aloft. She quickly ascertains that she is on a large island, presumably Greentarn, which Prince Ryger’s capital of Regalport stands on. Catching sight of a town to the east, Luna heads towards it.

Flying over the town, she sees that it is built around the docks, which look out over a protected bay. The harbor area displays signs of significant damage, as does one of the multiple ships at dock, which looks like it has been recently sunk and subsequently raised. Many of the ships, including the one being repaired, fly a banner depicting a striking seadragon on a field of blue-green waves. As Luna flies nearer, she sees that many of the people moving around the docks or on the ships wear the same insignia. 

She continues over the town, heading towards the largest building, a palatial villa surrounded by fortifications. Along the way, she passes a large enclave flying the displacer beast insignia of House Thuranni, which is based in Regalport, and slightly smaller ones belonging to Houses Orien and Ghallanda. Luna also passes a bustling market, the famous Pirate Exchange, which is full of people from many lands and nations. Finally, landing in an alleyway near the villa, she quickly transforms. Then, reaching into her haversack she produces a package. _Time to change._*

A few minutes later, the Seadragons at the gate of Prince Ryger’s home see the unusual sight of an attractive-looking shifter in an ankle-length off-the-shoulder red gown strolling towards them as if at a society party. Luna flashes them a dazzling smile and says, “I’m here to see Prince Ryger. He’s expecting me.”

One of the guards withdraws his eyes from the significant amount of cleavage revealed by the low-cut dress and asks, “Expected? Who are you?”

“I’m Luna, of the Guardian Angels of Sharn.”


----------



## shilsen

The rest of the Angels, meanwhile, stand outside a small fortified village. Wyrmwatch stands within a large open space of about thirty miles, between the jungle and the foothills of the Endworld Mountains, which separate western and northern Q’barra from the Talenta plains. A number of armed guards face them, while others look down from positions atop the wooden wall, with arrows nocked in their half-raised bows. 

“Who are you?” asks the guard leader suspiciously. “And how did you just appear out there?”

“We _teleport_ed,” says Nameless, a trifle grandiosely. “And we are the Guardian Angels.”

There is an expectant pause, and then the guard says, “Who? Never heard of you.”

The Angels exchange surprised glances, and then Six says to the others, “This doesn’t really look like a place the Korranberg Chronicle comes to, you know.”

“No, it doesn’t,” says the guard, eyeing the warforged up and down. “We don’t get your kind here either, warforged.” Then he turns his attention to Gareth. “So you are a worshipper of the Flame?”

“Yes,” says Gareth, even more grandly than Nameless a moment earlier. “I am the champion of the Silver Flame.” The effect is slightly spoiled by the snort of laughter from Korm, which Gareth ignores.

“A champion of the Silver Flame?”

“_The_ champion of the Silver Flame.”

The man shrugs. “Whatever. But you’re welcome here.”

“Good,” says Nameless. “Now let us in and take us to your leader.” 

The gradual changes to the alienist are slowly affecting his demeanor and manner of speech, and the comment is delivered – intentionally or not – with an undertone which says that he has far more important things to deal with than an unimportant watchman. The guard bristles and begins, “Listen, you ….”

_Time for a little demonstration._ Nameless begins to cast a spell, planning to produce a few pseudonatural allies to make a point. Instantly, the guards grab at their weapons, and those above raise and prepare to fire their bows. Gareth responds as quickly, grabbing Nameless’ arm and interrupting his spell. “What are you doing? There’s no need for that!”

Turning to the guard, the paladin says quickly, “Pardon my friend’s hastiness. We have had a long day and are tired. We are here on an urgent matter and need to speak to your village leader. Why don’t you take us to him and let him decide how to respond, rather than arguing out here?”

The guard leader slowly takes his hand off his weapon and nods. “All right. But no spellcasting in there.” He bestows a dirty look on Nameless, who ignores him. 

The man turns and leads the Angels in, followed by a few of the guards. As they pass through the village, the Angels scan it for signs of anything strange, but find it looking quite normal. It might as well be a village in the middle of Breland, except for the higher number of weapons that are visible, and that is understandable considering where it is located. Many people look suspiciously at the newcomers and whispers follow them through the village, as do a few of the more curious onlookers.

The growing group quickly arrives in what passes as the village square, an open space in front of some of the larger huts, where small trees have been allowed to grow and a number of seats have been set up in small groups. Most of them are occupied, especially by older villagers, while others stand and talk. Children run and play around them. 

The guard leads the Angels to the largest group and then salutes a stout man with a large bushy beard, who has turned to watch the newcomers. “Elder Nevillom,” he says respectfully, “These people just arrived here. They said they have something important to tell you.”

The bearded man rises, smiles as he sees the symbols on Gareth’s armor, and extends a hand to him. “It’s a pleasure to meet fellow worshippers out here. Welcome to Wyrmwatch. I’m Nevillom. How can I help you?”

Gareth nods and gets directly to the point. “I’ve heard that you are attempting to restart the Thranish Inquisition here.”

There is an amusing moment as the friendly look remains on Nevillom’s face for a second, while his brain tries to realize what Gareth just said. Then his face darkens and his expression turns stony. “What?”

Gareth’s tone is stony as he replies. “The lycanthropic purge. I believe you’re restarting it?”

“Where did … what business is this of yours?” asks Nevillom. Angry mutterings run through the people around them, and some of the guards ready their weapons. Korm casually raises a hand to his sword and says, “Guy’s got a point, Gareth.”

With all the attention focused on Gareth and Nevillom, Six quietly sidles away. Walking around a hut, he uses his _hat_ to appear to be a human dressed in clothing like that worn by the villagers. He looks around and catches sight of a hut some distance away, which has two armed guards outside, both of whom are moving towards the village square. Six proceeds to make his way quickly in that direction, heading for the rear of the hut.

The discussion – or argument – behind him continues. “I’m making it my business,” says Gareth. “I am the champion of the Silver Flame and if what you do affects the reputation of the Silver Flame, it matters to me. And I will stop you.”

Nevillom’s face is blood-red by this point. “I don’t care who you think you are. You have no business walking in here and trying to dictate how I protect my people!” He lifts a hand, quivering with passion, and points. “Get out!”

Nameless shakes his head. “Seriously, you should calm down and answer the questions. Believe me, you’re getting a good deal today. We didn’t bring the mean one!” Korm nods. “True. And she’s bigger than us all too. Combined.”

Clearly nobody is listening to the pair, and Nevillom bellows, “I told you to get out. Now!” Gareth shakes his head. “No. You will answer my questions first.” 

One of the guards angrily says, “You can’t talk to the Elder like that!” and shoves the paladin. For all the good it does, he might as well have tried to kick over the Endworld Mountains. Gareth turns to look at the man, even as Nevillom shouts, “Throw them out!” The rest of the guards pile forward, trying to comply. Others in the area hurriedly try to get out of the way, especially the women, trying to gather up their children.

“Fine,” says Nameless, deftly evading the grasp of a couple of guards. He gestures and casts, causing a cloud of nauseating vapor to envelop Nevillom and those around him. Frightened screams, followed swiftly by gasps, choking and the sound of multiple people voiding the contents of their stomachs, follows. 

Shoving another guard away with a force that sends him and two others tumbling, Gareth shouts, “Nameless – don’t kill anybody! There are women and children around!”

“I’m not that dumb,” says Nameless, in the process of rising into the air, only pausing to smack a persistent guard with his tentacle. Which completely confuses the man, since Nameless’ magical disguise makes it appear that he has two normal human arms. “The _stinking cloud_ will keep them from getting themselves into more trouble.”

“Spoilsport!” says Korm, his happy grin belying the comment, having seized a man by shirt and belt and hoisted him above his head. The Gatekeeper swings the hapless guard in a wide arc, clearing a space around him, and then tosses the guard into the arms of his fellows with a force that knocks them all to the ground.

“Oh, look!” says Nameless, looking around from his elevated vantage. “We’re being attacked by more villagers. How terrifying!” He studies the angles that the armed men are approaching from and says, “Korm. Notice the vegetation there? Want to slow them down?”

“Sure.” Korm casts and the advancing attackers cry out in surprise as the limited plant life in the area reaches out and seizes most of them. 

“Nice work,” says Nameless, and then noting that some people, including Nevillom, are staggering from the _cloud_, casts another spell of his own. Three giant stag beetles appear, with mottled green and purple tentacles writhing. As they move to strike, driven by the magic of the spell, Nameless shouts a command. They hesitate for a second and then simply walk over some of the armed men and then squat down, knocking them to the ground. The frightened captives shout and strike at them, but their simple weapons ring uselessly off the beetles’ carapaces. Nevillom, already nauseated by the cloud, doesn’t even have that option, being pinned face down by the largest of the beetles.

“You really should be running away,” Nameless explains to the few remaining armed men, as he flies over towards them. One promptly raises his crossbow and fires, striking the mage right in the middle of his chest. Or what seems to be the case, since Nameless’ magical disguise conceals the fact that it is merely a flesh wound, the bolt embedding itself as much in his coat as in his flesh. He smiles, pulls out the bolt, and says, “That was a good shot! Would you like a job?” The horrified archer screams, throws away his crossbow and flees, followed by his fellows.

Some distance away, Six shrugs inwardly as he hears hostilities commence. Having found no easy ingress, with even the two windows being boarded and nailed shut, he simply carves a hole in the rear wall and looks in. The unusual vision granted by the implanted third eye lets him see clearly into the dark hut. The interior is in a squalid condition and even his limited sense of smell detects the sharp tang of urine and the stench of fresh excreta. 

Three figures look back in surprise at the disguised warforged silhouetted in the opening. All three are human, two male and one female, and each is also chained at neck and waist to a separate thick post that has been driven into the dirt floor. Their condition is deplorable, all three being smeared in the bodily waste that covers the ground around the posts. 

After a moment of amazement, the woman asks, “Who are you?” Then, as the sounds from outside penetrate, she adds, “What’s going on out there?” One of the men is more direct, begging, “Please – you must free us! They’re going to kill us all!”

“All right,” says Six. “I’ll take you outside. Just follow me, do what I say and you’ll be safe.” _But I’m not sure I want to free you yet._ He enters and begins to hack the tops and bottoms off the posts, so that he can take the three people outside while they are still attached. 

As he deals with the post to which the first of the men is attached, the man convulses as if in pain. Six quickly steps back, watching as hair erupts all over the man’s form, while his features turn bestial and lupine. In seconds, a hybrid made of wolf and human stands in the peasant’s place. It glares at Six and leaps, fangs and claws bared, dragging the post behind as if it weighed nothing. 

Unfortunately for the werewolf, the only result is that a heavy blow knocks it backwards to the ground, where it is quickly bludgeoned into unconsciousness. Six then turns to the other two, who are cowering as far back as their bindings allow them. “Are you werewolves too?” he asks.

“Yes,” says the woman finally says, “But we don’t want to be. Please help us!” 

“All right. But don’t do what your friend here did.” Six continues to free the three and then proceeds to take them outside, dragging the unconscious werewolf behind him. By the time he rejoins the other Angels, they are standing around Nevillom, whom Korm is holding in mid-air, watched by villagers from a safe distance.

“Take what you want!” Nevillom screams, “You know we cannot resist your foul powers!”

“For the third time,” says Gareth irritably, “We’re not here to rob you. We’re here to stop you restarting the Inquisition.”

“And for the fourth time,” Nevillom yells, “We are … not … restarting the Inquisition!”

“I found some werewolves,” puts in Six.

“See?” says Gareth triumphantly.

“See what?!” howls the near apoplectic village leader. “They are lycanthropes! We had them locked up and were deciding what to do.”

“Where did they come from?”

“A werewolf attacked some of our villagers four days ago and though we managed to kill it, some people were wounded. These three succumbed to the curse and so I had them locked away for the safety of the village.” Nevillom pauses, takes a deep breath and says, slightly more calmly, “What do you want?”

“I want the Inquisition to stop,” says Gareth.

Almost weeping with fury, Nevillom screams, “There … is … NO … Inquisition!”

“Okay, we need to talk about this,” says Korm to his companions, before adding to Nevillom, “Don’t go away.” The command seems a little unnecessary, since he continues to carry the hapless man at the end of an extended arm while he and his friends go into a huddle. After a short discussion, he turns to Nevillom and says, “We’re going to take these three away, cure them and let them go.”

Nevillom nods. “Yes, I could hear you. Please do so. And can you put me down?”

Korm does so and then turns to the three prisoners, or at least the two conscious ones. “You clearly don’t have a life here any more. Is there anywhere you’d rather go? We can drop you off at Newthrone and cure you too.”

The surprised pair look at each other and then quickly agree, asking only to be allowed to recover some possessions and say goodbye to their families. The unconscious werewolf is revived and, after changing form, also comes to precisely the same agreement.

While Six escorts them as they collect their belongings, Gareth turns back to Nevillom. “You need to do something about your reputation. We were told that you were restarting the Inquisition here.”

Nevillom glares at the paladin. “What can we do if people slander us? We are simple people, living according to our faith. One would think a supposed champion of the Silver Flame would understand that. Who was it that told you these lies?”

“Alzia ir’Kesslan, first minister to King Sebastes, in Newthrone. You should inform them about the situation.”

“There is two hundred miles of jungle between Newthrone and us,” points out Nevillom. “How exactly do you suggest I keep them informed about our village?”

Gareth shrugs. “I don’t know. But it’s worth doing. Otherwise, people may think that such things are happening here, and some will not like it. If a really large bear attacks your village at some point, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“A bear?!”

Korm nods. “Sadly, he’s not lying.” He looks at Nameless. “You think she’s managed to kill the pirate prince yet?”

* * *

Luna, on the contrary, is thinking of doing other things to the prince. When she is ushered into a comfortable sitting room to meet him, she finds Ryger ir’Wynarn to be a tall and athletic man in what looks to be his late thirties or early forties, with a bronzed complexion and long hair tied back in a ponytail. Cool blue eyes look out from above a hawkish nose and a rakish moustache. When Luna enters, he rises and takes her hand, bowing and bestowing a kiss on it, before sliding his arm through hers as he leads her to a couch. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, lady Luna. Welcome to my home.”

_Ooh, baby – come to mama!_ Luna smiles broadly at Ryger and seats herself, trying to focus on something besides his smile**. “Thank you. You have a lovely place. I absolutely love what you’ve done with it. Very eclectic but very tasteful.”

“Thank you. Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh, that reminds me – I got you something!” Luna produces and hands over a carefully wrapped package, which Ryger opens to reveal a vintage bottle of Q’barran wine. “That’s so kind of you,” he says, examining the bottle. “Especially since we’ve never met. Should I open it?”

“Please.”

Ryger pours Luna and himself a large glass each, and then takes a seat near the druid. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. But I see none of your companions came along.”

“No. They had something to do, but I thought meeting you was more important so here I am.”

“So I see. And if you don’t mind me saying so – very well worth the sight. That dress suits you beautifully.”

The nature of reality on Eberron shifts slightly, as Luna actually simpers at the compliment. “Thank you. I was hoping I wasn’t inappropriately dressed for our meeting. By the way, since we’re being honest in exchanging compliments, I’ve got to say that I’ve been incredibly impressed by you once I learned who you were and what you’ve done.”

“Really?” For a moment, Ryger looks slightly surprised.

“Yes. Believe me, I don’t respect people easily, but you’re probably the person I respect more than anyone else. I mean, you’re a genius. Being a pirate prince with your own set of islands? That’s such an awesomely great idea!”

“Well, I’m not actually a pirate…,” begins Ryger, but Luna rushes on, “When I heard about it I felt so foolish for never thinking of that. It’s the perfect life. The sun and the sea, being surrounded by nature, sailing on a ship, not having to deal with the public – it’s beautiful! Believe me, having lived in Sharn, the option of not being surrounded by people is a significant bonus to me. I’m seriously considering the idea of finding a nice island and…”

Ryger simply sips his drink, nods and smiles, not even trying to get a word in edgeways as Luna continues on. Finally, when the torrent of speech slows slightly he says, “Yes, there are great advantages here, but unfortunately I don’t have the freedom I once had, and can’t jump in a ship and sail off wherever I want. Responsibility and politics, you know.”

Luna grimaces sympathetically. “I understand. I hate politics!”

“You’re not the only one. But now, let me regrettably get to business. You’ve already heard the details about the attack here, correct?”

“Yes, but I’d like to hear them from you.”

“All right.” Ryger proceeds to describe the attack, and then asks Luna if she and her companions are interested in finding those who enacted the attack and also recovering what was taken. “I’d prefer it if nobody knew what has been stolen. I can trust your discretion, can’t I?”

“Of course,” says Luna.

“What was taken was a chest of Siberys dragonshards, all of them marked with the same symbol, which is very unusual. There was a rain of dragonshards on the island of Trebez Sinara. Nobody goes there, since the place is overrun by dangerous monsters, but three of my ships were nearby and made a quick stop and recovered what they could. How the attackers knew about it, I don’t know.”

_Sh*t! Why dragonshards again?_ Luna says, “We’ll see what we can do.”

“Thank you. I presume you speak for your friends?”

“Of course.”

“That’s good to know. Naturally, I’ve heard much of you and your companions. I’m curious to hear about your adventures.”

Luna promptly proceeds to tell stories of what the Angels have seen, encountered and done, while Ryger listens with rapt attention. She is careful to not mention anything of Mordain or Nameless’ condition, but is not as reticent about older issues, describing the events surrounding the Key and the rakshasas. 

Eventually, after they have sat and chatted for a while, Ryger says, “Would you by any chance be free to join me for dinner? I’ve got some work I have to take care of, but I should be free in three or four hours. And perhaps afterwards we could take a short cruise. Unless there’s somewhere else you need to be tonight?”

Luna smiles coquettishly. “I don’t, and I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

. . . . .

A few hours later, a very well fed and even more happily tired Luna snuggles up against the naked form of the nominal leader of the Lhazaar Principalities. _I am so becoming a pirate princess!_


* Since she has the _A Thousand Faces_ ability, Luna can look like whoever she wants. Or just like herself, but better.
** Once I said that he was being played for our campaign by Errol Flynn and showed her an appropriate picture, Luna was as close to smitten as she gets.


----------



## Vorput

Heh, great update- well worth the wait.


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## Furby076

Vorput said:
			
		

> Heh, great update- well worth the wait.




Actually, Shilsen has been slacking a bit. We may have to bust out the duct tape and keep him strapped to the water heater in my building...not so he stays warm during the winter, but so he keeps the water heater warm   

If you think these updates are great, just wait until you find out what we did via our private forums recently - the way things have gone, and the things that just got done the past couple days will blow your mind away


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## carborundum

My thread subscription hiccuped and never told me about all this - and now I have three updates printed out and coming to work with me. Fantastic!


----------



## shilsen

Two days later, the Angels are all back in Sharn, waiting outside an office in the central House Cannith enclave. 

“So tell me again why we’re here?” grumbles Luna. “And why you think messing with these stuck-up dragonmarked snobs is a good idea?”

For a moment, Six almost regrets the fact that he cannot physically sigh or roll his eyes. “I already told you. They’re producing copies of that harness I let them study. So I want to learn a little about it and get a finder’s fee.” Gareth nods. “Makes sense to me. And what did the dragonmarked houses do to you?”

“Nothing,” growls Luna, “But I just don’t like them being all high-and-mighty because they’ve got those weird marks. And why do they let them do all that extra magical stuff?”

“You know,” says Korm, “You can do a whole lot of things nobody else in all of Breland can, you know.” He grins, “Other than me.”

“You wish! And of course I can do all that. I’m a druid! And I work at it. But these guys are just born with it.”

“Actually,” begins Gareth, “One is never born with…,” but Luna cuts him off. “You know what I mean! Plus it’s all because of weird inbreeding and all. Why do we need some strange inbred nut to fly an airship?!”

Nameless laughs. “So _that’s_ what it’s all about!” Luna has the good grace to look mildly embarrassed, as she nods, before turning to Six. “You’re sure that when you get your harness to copy a dragonmark it’s no good? Maybe you just need to practice with it.”

Six shakes his head. “It’s not even actually magical when I copy one. Sorry.” Luna frowns disappointedly and then turns back to Nameless, her frown deepening as she studies the alienist carefully. “What’s wrong with your voice? You’ve been sounding a little weird.”

Nameless shrugs. “Things change.”

“Yes,” says Gareth, looking at his metal hand. “We can all vouch for that, but it’s not just a physical thing. You’re … I don’t know how to put it … a little more distant than you normally are. And a little less patient, maybe. I was _not_ expecting you to try _summon_ing a bunch of creatures to get us into that village!”

Nameless says nothing. _Perhaps I simply have less time to put up with foolish people than you._ Luna, on the other hand, chortles loudly. “I wasn’t expecting you guys to go off and scare the crap out of a bunch of yokels. Who didn’t even have a purge or anything going on!” 

“We did get to save three people,” Gareth points out. “Save?” adds Korm. “We made them rich! When we gave them a hundred galifars each I thought they’d pass out!”

“I didn’t expect you to come back talking about Ryger as much either,” says Six. Luna’s eyes sparkle at the comment. “He’s just a really nice guy. And smart. And dishy!” Mercurially, she turns to glare at the others. “And I’m telling you right here right now, nobody is to be rude to me when he eventually meets you. None of those ‘fat’ cracks! And nobody mentions that pregnancy thing Mordain did!”

Korm grins from ear to ear. “None of that would ever occur to us!”

Luna is about to reply, when Six thankfully notes that a Cannith functionary is indicating that they should enter. “Let’s go.”

There are two people waiting for the Angels when they enter. One is Jerim d’Cannith, the official Six spoke to on his first visit there and the other is a middle-aged woman whom Jerim introduces as “Tarya d’Cannith, one of the most experienced artificers in our House.” 

The latter does almost all of the talking during the meeting. She confirms what Six has already been told: House Cannith is creating copies of the harness, they are being able to do so because it coincidentally fits perfectly with a schema they already possessed, it works only on warforged and permanently bonds to the user, and has not yet been released to the public. Besides answering his questions, Tarya has a few for Six too. She is very interested to make sure that he has not shown it to anyone else, especially members of Cannith West or Cannith North, the two other fragments of the original House that Cannith has split into (along with Cannith East, centered in Breland) after the loss of the central House enclave in Cyre on the Day of Mourning. Six mentions that the only person who has really had a chance to study it besides the Cannith East artificers is Mordain the Fleshweaver, but the name does not mean anything to Tarya, and the information that he is off in Droaam assuages any concerns she might have.

After a little discussion, Tarya offers Six a one-time “finder’s fee” of 10,000 galifars, or the equivalent amount of magical equipment or augmentations. “So that we do not have any misunderstandings in the future,” she adds smoothly, “You will need to sign a contract promising that you won’t ask for further payment, and that you won’t provide information about the harness to anyone else. If it is discovered that you have done so, you’ll be willing to return the payment and pay an additional 20,000 galifars as a penalty.”

_That’s a LOT of money!_ After a few moments of thought, Six nods. “I agree. But naturally I presume there won’t be a penalty if the information is forced or stolen for me, correct? We have a dangerous lifestyle, and unplanned for things can happen.” 

“That is acceptable,” says Tarya, before sliding across a large envelope. “We have the contract here.”

 “Let me take a look at that,” offers Gareth, knowing that his training in the laws of Khorvaire and especially the Galifar Code should help him find any loopholes – especially intentional ones. After examining it carefully, he says, “Look’s all right.”

A few minutes later, the Angels walk out of the Cannith enclave. “So, what next?” asks Korm. Nameless pats a belt pouch. “We go empty out the _portable hole_ and make some magic item dealer wet himself with excitement.”

* * * * *

The Angels awake the next morning, back in Gareth’s family home outside Karrlakton, feeling slightly different. But none of them can identify it until Nameless notices that one of the two magical auras each has had since meeting Mordain. “The _geas_ is gone.”

“So that’s what it is!” Luna scratches her head. “Yup, I don’t have that strong feeling I shouldn’t bother Mordain any more. Maybe we should visit him again some time. We could ask about whether his creations were the ones causing trouble for Ryger. And he might want to give us more stuff.”

More pragmatic, Six turns to Nameless. “You said that when the spell ends would let you gauge Mordain’s power. How many days is it since we left him?”

“28 days. I seriously doubt he could make a _geas_ last that long with a normal casting, so he must have extended them and cast them earlier. Which means I can’t get a precise idea of his power.” He shrugs. “Not that it matters. As for meeting him, we can put it on the list. But first we need to meet Moranna, like Gareth’s mom said, and work out the details for the return.”

* * *

“So let me get this straight,” says Gareth. “We’re leaving Korth on the _Serenity_ with Haydith the day after tomorrow, except it won’t be Haydith?”

“Correct,” replies Moranna crisply. “It shall be a decoy. After the official leave-taking from her brother, the princess will go to her room with you to collect some things and be joined by the rest of her entourage, and that’s where the switch will be made. The replacement and you will board the airship and leave. One hour later, you will _teleport_ back to the princess’ room with Maddox. Then you will _teleport_ directly to Wroat with Haydith and Maddox, where they will be expecting you. I shall provide you with a precise description of the chamber you will be going to. Any questions?”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “I’m curious why you didn’t just allow us to do this when Haydith was coming here. I did offer, at the time.”

Moranna studies the alienist silently for a second, and then says, “Frankly, we didn’t know you well enough to trust you that far. Guarding the princess is one thing, but allowing _teleportation_ with her is another thing. And the fact that she was stopping at Aundair on a diplomatic mission was also a significant factor. Now, of course, things are very different. You have earned the trust of the Crown, and we are reasonably certain that you are not working for any of Karrnath’s enemies.”

Korm laughs. “Reasonably?”

“Reasonably,” repeats Moranna dryly, without a smile. “Certainty is always difficult.”

“Despite that rousing vote of confidence,” says Nameless in a similar tone, “It sounds like a good plan. If that’s all, we’ll see you on the 8th.” 

As he abruptly begins to rise, drawing a small frown from Moranna, Gareth puts in, “There is one more thing. About that evil relic I had loaned you….”

“Yes,” says the Regent. “We have not finished studying it yet. I shall have it returned to you as soon as we can.” 

Gareth frowns. “I shall need to have it when we leave. We may not be able to return here just to collect it, and you did promise to have it back for me before we left.”

“All right,” says Moranna crisply. “You shall have it before you leave.”

* * * * *

Nameless, Luna, Gareth, Haydith and Maddox appear in Wroat, to find themselves facing a small squad of guards wearing the livery of the royal family of Breland. The room, the Great Hall of Brokenblade Castle, differs drastically from the audience chambers that the Angels have seen in Fairhaven and Korth. Where Aurala’s hall is a riot of color and architectural grandeur, and Kaius’ is spartan and austere, this massive chamber is more comfortable than both and decorated in a rustic style, with open hearths where large fires are burning, and log-framed ceilings and walls. 

At one end of the room is a large stone-and-wood chair, which seems to fit like a glove around the man who lounges in it. With graying hair and moustache, he looks to be in his sixties, but his burly and muscular form would fit a much younger person. A tall warforged with heavy armor plating stands beside the chair, the holy symbol of Dol Arrah, goddess of honor and sacrifice, hanging prominently on his chest. Two tigers with striped white-and-black fur lie beside the chair, which Luna recognizes as a pair of magebred animals, creatures bred by House Vadalis for exceptional strength and increased intelligence. 

As soon as Haydith sees the seated man, she says, “Boranel!” and runs to him. He smiles broadly and stands, wraps her in a bear-hug and gives her a kiss on the forehead. “What – you thought I wouldn’t be waiting for you?” Then the two walk towards the Angels with an arm around each other, followed by the warforged and the tigers. Maddox bows as he approaches, but the man waves it away with a slight grimace, and then says, “Come on, Hayd, introduce us.” Haydith smiles happily and says, “The Guardian Angels of Sharn, let me introduce you to a friend of mine. His Royal Majesty King Boranel ir’Wynarn, his most puissant and amazing monarch of Bre…” She is cut off by Boranel twisting her ear, causing her to give a yell and respond with a swift box on the arm. “Hello, folks!” he says, extending a hand. “It’s a pleasure!”

After a moment’s surprise, the Angels shake hands with arguably the most powerful monarch in Khorvaire, who sounds more like a friendly acquaintance they might meet in a bar. Korm and Six, after being extracted from the _portable hole_, do so as well. As they are doing so, a door at the end of the chamber opens and a formally dressed man looks in. The sound of many people moving around behind him filters through. “Your majesty,” he says, in a slightly disapproving manner, “The petitioners are….” 

Boranel sighs and says, “All right. You can handle them today.” The man looks startled and says, “But, your majesty…,” but the king cuts him off with a wave and a “You’ll be fine. I’m going to be busy for an hour.” He then indicates that the Angels should follow him and leads them towards another exit, followed by the warforged and his tigers, and the guards at a distance. Haydith giggles as they head out, saying, “That’s horrible! Moranna would have apoplexy if Kaius tried something like this.” Boranel shrugs and says lightly, “Well, I’m not your brother,” but there is a faint edge to his words.

The king proceeds to lead the group along a set of empty corridors until they reach a comfortable sitting room. The large windows look out onto the Howling River and the city of Wroat, which rests on the two banks, with Brokenblade Castle on a man-made island in the middle of the river. Boranel gestures to the seats and says “Sit down. Oh, before I forget – Hass ir’Tain and Fenlen ir’Kess wish to meet you.” 

“Who’s Fenlen ir’whatever?” asks Luna. “The member of parliament who hired us to escort Haydith,” says Nameless. 

“Yes,” says Boranel, “But you can meet them after we talk.” The king drops into a large couch, while Haydith curls up comfortably next to him. The two tigers stretch out lazily at his feet, and the warforged warrior – the only one of the guards to follow them in – takes up a position behind him. “This,” says Boranel, indicating him, “Is Three. I’d ask him to sit down, but he’ll refuse. Right, pal?”

“Yes, your majesty,” says the warforged, drawing a sigh from the king. Boranel says, “Three is a damn good friend and bodyguard, but he has relaxation problems.” He raises a hand, cups it beside his mouth, and feigns a whisper. “Even if he doesn’t have one, Three’s got a stick up his ass. It’s a paladin thing!”

Korm chortles and says, “I know what you mean. We’ve got the same issue,” pointing at Gareth. While the paladin gives Korm a dirty look, Three rumbles, “His majesty excels at poor jokes. It’s a royal thing.” 

Boranel throws back his head and guffaws. “Good one, Three.” Then he looks at the Angels. “So, tell me what happened with you and my little Hayd here.” The princess grimaces, throwing a quick look at Gareth. “Don’t call me that!” The king gives her ear a tug and turns his attention back to the Angels. “Go ahead.”

The Angels spend the next half an hour talking to the king of Breland, finding him to be very good company, and remarkably casual and comfortable with them. Boranel’s reputation for approachability and lack of interest in ceremony and protocol is apparently true. 

It’s also quite clear that the king and Haydith are very fond of each other, like an uncle and his favorite niece. He listens with especially keen interest to the details of the attack on her and then says seriously, “I’m in your debt for protecting her.”

Luna promptly asks, “Can we get a reward then?” Gareth glares at her and says immediately, “No! There is no need for a reward, your majesty. We were pleased to be of assistance.” Luna begins to protest, but for once Nameless agrees with Gareth and shushes her. _Having the king of Breland grateful to us can mean a lot more long-term benefits than a reward._

Boranel, who started laughing at Luna’s request, says to her, “Ah, you’re clearly an adventurer! I was once too, though it was a long time ago.” He glances at the others. “You’re sure no reward is needed?”

“Absolutely, your majesty.”

“All right. But let me know if I can ever aid you in the future.” Boranel looks out of the window, sighs and says, “But now I must go. Unfortunately, I’m really busy today and for the next couple, otherwise I’d invite you to stay. But hopefully we shall meet again.” Haydith looks significantly disappointed, adding quickly, “You will come and visit, won’t you?” Though the words are delivered generally, her eyes are on Gareth.

“We shall certainly try to do so,” says the paladin.

The Angels are then transported to the city of Wroat proper, where they meet Hass and Fenlen in the Parliament Hall on the southern shore of the Howling River. The two members of parliament thank the adventurers for their actions and then Hass asks, “What are your future plans?”

“We have a few possibilities on the table,” says Nameless, “But no definite decisions right now. Why?”

“We were just wondering,” says Hass politely. “Especially if you were planning to continue working for other nations, such as for Q’barra, or during the attack on the Emerald Claw for Karrnath.”

_So that’s what you’re worried about!_ “We weren’t working for any countries,” Nameless replies. “We just got some jobs, and they happened to be in different places I have no intention of serving the interests of any nation.” The alienist studies the two members of the Brelish parliament and adds pointedly, “_Any_ nation.”

Fenlen raises an eyebrow at the alienist’s tone, but it’s Hass who keeps speaking. “I see. You should understand that with the current political instability in Khorvaire, every nation is interested in gaining whatever mileage it can from any area. And you happen to be not only the most powerful adventurers on the continent but certainly the most famous. The fact that you live in Breland and most of you are citizens of this country, means there are people in every other nation who would like to take any advantage of your fame. And any time your actions can be linked to any other country, it gets much easier to do so.”

He places a folded sheet of paper on the table and slides it across to Gareth. Opening it, the paladin sees a stylized symbol of the Silver Flame on the top of it. “The Flamekeep Crier,” says Hass, “A newspaper locally produced in Thrane. You’ll see the second page mentions the actions of an adventuring group known as the Shining Flames, specifically sponsored by the Church. It’s not too big a guess that they’re trying to create a Thranish equivalent of your group.”

Korm laughs. “I’d say they have a while to go yet.”

“I see,” says Nameless. “Actually, I have an idea on the subject which might help to diminish future political conflicts. We have been considering the possibility of creating an international league of adventurers, drawing upon the best qualities of the various nations. You know, arcanists from Aundair, Karrnathi swordsmen, and so on. Not only would such a collection of people mean greater security for the people of Khorvaire, but it should create strong links between the nations.”

This time, Fenlen speaks up. “That’s an intriguing concept. As the creators of the concept, would you base it in Breland?”

Nameless shrugs. “I haven’t decided. The idea is still mostly theoretical now. But I believe it is worthwhile. Building ties amongst people who are likely to be – or become, in the future – powerful and influential, and establishing back channels of communication which aren’t reliant on more official channels, could be quite useful for the future of Khorvaire.”

“All right,” says Fenlen. “Let us know if we can aid in some way.”

* * *

A short time later, the Angels are sitting in their main sitting room in Sharn, talking to their changeling combination of attendant, major-domo, house-sitter and spy, Fett. 

“So when did Surr’kal stop by?” asks Korm. “Yesterday,” Fett replies, “He said that Gurr’khan has arrived in Sharn and hopes you’ll be able to see him soon, since he can only stay for a few days.”

Luna chuckles. “I like Gurr’khan. He’s testy. And I’m betting he’ll be a lot more when he hears of Nameless’ condition.”

“What condition?” asks Fett.

“Nothing major,” says Nameless, restraining himself from glaring at the shifter. 

“If you say so,” says Fett with a shrug and a smile, though his face is openly skeptical. “Anyhow, here’s something else that came for you. This morning, in fact.” He places a sealed package before them. “It’s from House Cannith.”

Nameless scans the package, picking up ten faint magical auras within, half of them illusion and half of the universal school. _Probably not a trap, but let’s be safe.”_ “Thank you, Fett,” he says. “We’ll take it from here.”

“Sure,” says Fett, rising and leaving. Once he is gone, the Angels carefully check the package and, finding no signs of danger, open it. Inside the package are five smaller boxes, individually labeled with the names of the Angels, and accompanied by a note that says simply, “With my compliments. Tarya d’Cannith.”

“Why do I doubt that Cannith decided we need extra payment?” asks Six rhetorically.

“Who cares?” says Luna, quickly ripping the box with her name – the largest of the lot – open. “Oh my … this is so _cool_!” She holds up its contents, a wood and metal model of a bear, carefully painted and carved to create a near-perfect facsimile of the form she takes in battle.

“Hah!” The others quickly do so as well, each revealing a figure that matches the new owner. “Dolls?” asks Six, studying a tiny version of himself, which glints in the light of the _continual flame_ on the wall as does his own breastplate. 

“No,” says Korm. “They’re action figures! See?” He moves the articulated arms and legs, with joints at elbows, shoulders, knees and other places. “They even got my sword correct!” 

“And mine,” says Gareth, studying the tiny version of the Endless Blade that his little version holds in its hand. “Not bad at all!”

“No, they’re not bad at all,” agrees Nameless. “But I’m a little relieved that they didn’t create mine with a tentacle-arm. That would be a little too much information. They got this bit quite accurate.” He holds up his figure, to show that it has tiny blue sparkles around the eyes, just as the alienist’s _arcane sight_ gives him. He slides a finger behind the little head and slides it up, causing the little blue sparkles to move up, revealing that they are built on a small frame to slide onto or off the head. 

“Oh man! That’s great! And check this out!” She slides her thumb across a raised spot on the back of the bear, causing a carefully concealed panel to reveal a hollow inside, within which a smaller figure lies. The latter is a copy of Luna in her shifter form. “Two of me!”

“There’s a stud on mine too,” says Gareth. “I really hope they didn’t decide to provide mine with a littler version.” He pushes at it, but instead of sliding sideways, it depresses with a click. The little figure in his hand promptly proclaims in a voice that is a strange combination of tinny and baritone, “I am the champion of the Silver Flame!”

After he and his companions have almost fallen off their seats in amusement and delight, the others quickly search their figures, each finding a similar stud. Experimentation reveals that each figure is capable of speaking half a dozen phrases, picking one at random when the stud is pressed. “Very creative,” says Nameless. “So that’s what the aura comes from. _Magic mouth_, I think, and probably a _prestidigitation_ as well.” He glances at Gareth. “But I’m still a little disappointed that yours doesn’t say ‘Heal me!’” 

The Angels spend the next few minutes experimenting with the various figures. Within the boxes, they find that each figure has a set of appropriately-sized objects that it comes with, ranging from cooking implements for mini-Korm to a couple of summoned creatures for Nameless.

“You know,” says Luna, “I never thought I’d say this for something that isn’t really powerfully magical or very shiny, but this is the best treasure I’ve ever seen!”


----------



## carborundum

She's right!

How cool is that, your own action figures!


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> This time, Fenlen speaks up. “That’s an intriguing concept. As the creators of the concept, would you base it in Breland?”




Times like this make me think that we should have a base in orbit, like the JLA.  That way we don't have to deal with "nations"... Hey, any of you avid comic book readers out there know if the reason the JLA put their base in orbit was because of politics?


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> She's right!
> 
> How cool is that, your own action figures!



 And the best thing of all is that they each give the possessor a -15 to saves vs. divination spells and scrying.

* looks at players *

I'm kidding. I'm kidding.

Or am I?


----------



## Vorput

AviLazar said:
			
		

> Times like this make me think that we should have a base in orbit, like the JLA.  That way we don't have to deal with "nations"




or Khyber!!!!


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> or Khyber!!!!



 I think the Mournland might be even more fun! 

For at least one of us.


----------



## ajanders

There are giant dragonshards orbiting Eberron...

I have the image of a new Legion of Superheroes, each taking their oath:

Nameless: "I am...Tentacle Boy!"
Gareth "I am...Casualty Lad!"
Luna "I am...bored. And flame strike all of you!"


----------



## Furby076

ajanders said:
			
		

> There are giant dragonshards orbiting Eberron..."




Precious?


----------



## shilsen

Gurr’khan looks around at the members of the Guardian Angels, looking even more dyspeptic than he normally does around them. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. Nameless died, visited Xoriat, and returned with a possible portal to it in his chest. You visited someone called the Fleshweaver, and decided it would be a good idea to let him experiment on you. And according to him, if Nameless dies or is in one place too long, then the portal activates and Xoriat is once more in contact with Eberron.” 

He sighs, looking older and grayer than his years and orcish heritage make him, and then gives Korm a dirty look. “Normally, I’d be really interested in a Gatekeeper evincing aspects of various aberrations, but it seems that’s a minor problem right now. Assuming you are correct.” He looks at Nameless, studying him with a combination of concern and fascination, which overlays a faint sympathy. “You are sure you actually went to Xoriat? You, if anyone, should know that is impossible.”

“I know,” says Nameless. “But I’m quite certain that I did.”

“And that you returned with that portal inside you?”

“Actually, that’s something we only really have Mordain’s word for, but he is by far the most powerful spellcaster we have ever encountered. I’m by far the most skilled arcanist in Sharn, and he’s significantly ahead of me.” _For now._ “He was quite certain about it. And extremely helpful. I trust him, and even if I don’t have a way of verifying what he said, one thing is certain – I have an extremely potent magical aura in my chest.” After a moment of thought, he adds, “If nothing else, we know that after I was quite clearly dead, I was brought back via a _reincarnation_ which evidently didn’t work, since the materials utilized in it were not used up, and returned without any of the ill effects that normally attend being brought back by that spell.”

“Other than the ‘ill effect’ of coming back all screwed up!” snorts Luna. She looks at Gurr’khan and jerks a thumb at Korm. “I still say it’s because these idiots made a fake, aberration-loving druid bring him back.”

“Hey!” says Korm, half-indignantly and half-amused. “Says the person with two symbionts _inside_ her! I’m just using their abilities against them, like you do.”

Gurr’khan cuts the two off hastily. “I never thought I would say this after what happened with you and the Key, but this is more serious a situation than I’ve ever encountered, and I’m not in a position to make any decisions or really suggest anything. You need to contact Saala and meet her as soon as possible. Perhaps she can suggest a way to deal with the situation.”

“That sounds reasonable,” says Nameless. “And we are relatively free right now. I’ll be able to do so tomorrow.”

* * *

Luna looks around irritably from where she lies sprawled on the floor of the Cathedral in the form of a large hound. “You know,” she says, or more precisely the tongue-tentacle does in its tinny voice, “We’ve been waiting here for hours now?”

“Actually,” says Gareth looking out of a window, “I think it’s been just under three-quarters of an hour.”

“Bah! That’s long enough. You think she’s just blowing us off?”

“I doubt it, but she may be making us wait a little longer on purpose. She wasn’t that happy with me last time. Of course, she could just really be busy.”

“Well, I’ve had enough.” Luna sits up, raises her muzzle and howls. It’s loud, long and very, very penetrating. Only a few moments later, an acolyte hurries into the room, trying to keep a long suffering look off his face. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” growls Luna, while Gareth tries to give the impression that he is somehow completely unconnected with the large animal sharing the chamber with him. “I’m just bored. Isn’t she done yet?”

“I shall check. If you would just wait until I return…?”

“Sure,” says Luna. The acolyte turns away and then his shoulders sag slightly as a querulous howl follows him out the door. He returns only minutes later to say that the Archierophant will meet them now. 

The meeting, as expected, is frosty. Ythana Morr eyes the pair – and especially Gareth – coldly, and her voice is no warmer. “Greetings. What can I do for you?” The expression doesn’t improve as Luna says, “Hey! How’s it going?” and then sprawls on the floor, lifting a leg and scratching herself thoroughly.

“I wished to let you know that we had returned,” says Gareth, producing the Tome of Undead Transformation and sliding it across the desk. “And I brought you this relic for destruction, as I had promised.”

Ythana doesn’t make a move towards the book. “Thank you. Is there anything else?”

“No, that was the main reason. But since I am here and we do seem to be free right, I wanted to double check – are you certain you do not need Nameless?”

“Hey!” says Luna. “Don’t be volunteering him!”

“That’s all right,” says Ythana, the tone of voice indicating precisely the opposite, and turns slightly to make it clear that she’s addressing Luna. “As I told Gareth earlier, I have received instructions from Flamekeep that Nameless does not need to go there. So the matter is closed.”

“Yeah, Gareth said something about that.” Luna gives the paladin a big canine grin and adds, “He’s just upset because you’re pissed off with him.”

Before Gareth can speak, Ythana says, “I am not ‘pissed off’ with him. I simply do not think any further discussion of the subject is needed. But,” she says decisively, “I shall let you know if I need anything. And please, let me know if you think I can help you in any way.” The Archierophant rises, indicating that the meeting is over.

As her two visitors leave, Luna’s voice clearly floats back to Ythana, “You were right. She’s pissed!”

* * *

Late that night, Six sits alone in his chamber, working on a sculpture of the Angels with King Boranel. The king of Breland had been quite amused and agreed quickly when Six had asked permission to make sketches during their meeting. The warforged warrior glances at the door to his room, wondering idly if all his companions are sleeping. Though he understands it in theory, the phenomenon of sleep is wholly alien to him. And though he is mostly joking about his suspicions that sleeping, eating and excretion is the reason his companions are at least partially insane, it is still mostly. The group’s experiences with quori have him especially concerned about the issue.

_On the bright side_, he reminds himself, _We haven’t had anyone trying psionic contact for the last week._ The warforged emits on of his rare metallic chuckles as he recalls Nameless’ response to the last message, when the group was still in the forests of Q’barra. “I’m receiving a psionic message,” the alienist said, before casting a _dispel magic_ on himself. Then he explained to his bemused companions, “The message was ‘Nameless, we attempted to contact…,’ or at least that’s what I got before I ended it. Hopefully that’ll give them a hint.”

The warforged returns to his sculpture. A few seconds later, he looks up in surprise as four figures appear inside the room. Two of them are human, wearing full plate decorated with symbols that Six now recognizes as those of the Emerald Claw. Between them is a figure he has never seen before. This individual wears very traditional Karrnathi heavy armor, topped by a skeletal head, with thick and greenish skin pulled tight over the bones of its throat and body below. He wields a shield and a longsword, lambent green flames running along the blade. 

Though Six doesn’t recognize any of the three, the fourth intruder is one he easily remembers, from the deadly gleam in her deep-socketed eyes to her skeletal face to the stylishly feminine red robes she wears. Emrena the Red has returned, with backup. She looks exactly the same as before, except that she is _blink_ing in and out of existence. 

_Sh*t!_ The figures haven’t appeared for longer than a second before Six is moving. He leaps for the door, grabbing up his chain as he goes, opening it and running into the corridor outside. As he passes near the creature with the flaming sword, Six feels a strange sense of despair wash over him, but it ends as soon as he puts a little distance between the two of them. Not wasting time wondering what it is, he shouts as loud as he can, “We’re under attack! It’s the lich!” His harness reacts instantly to the alarm too, wreathing him in shadow.

The four enemies rush after him, _fly_ing magically through the air, but three are slowed down by their heavy armor and Emrena stops to hammer the warforged with a series of _magic missile_s. Six doesn’t even pause to wince as the spell blasts into his back, continuing to shout and rushing full-pelt for the stairs at the end of the long hallway outside his room, passing first Korm’s and then Nameless’ door. From inside their rooms he can hear startled cries and swearing, followed by the sounds of hasty spellcasting. The Emerald Claw attackers do so as well, and they take up ready positions, the two priests and the unusual undead warrior forming a rough arrowhead with Emrena behind them.

On the floor above, Gareth also wakes at the shouts. Thanking the Silver Flame and his own forethought, he speaks a word of command as he leaps out of bed, and his armor appears magically around him. The paladin hurriedly begins to cast a number of protective spells. 

Two floors below Six in the basement level, Luna’s preternatural hearing also brings her awake. The giant bear growls, wondering for a moment if she should rush upstairs, and then decides to bring a little backup. She casts and three large earth elementals appear around her. Luna begins to growl some simple commands in the rumbling language of the creatures, explaining to them that two should travel upstairs, while she will transport one magically with her.

Others have heard the alarm too, and as Six reaches the top of the stairs, he hears the metallic pounding sound of warforged feet from the guards on the main floor. A second later, the door next to Six opens and Nameless appears. The mage’s gleaming blue eyes flicker past the warforged to the enemies lined up in the hallway and he shouts, “Six – get out of the way!” The warforged complies, simply leaping down the stairwell and making a perfect landing ten feet below. Seeing the two warforged at the bottom of the stairs, Six shouts, “Get the other guards too!”

Above him, Nameless grins and says, “Bad mistake, Emrena!” and casts one of his most powerful spells. Seven shimmering, intertwined, multicolored beams of light spray from his hand. One of the two Emerald Claw clerics screams in pain as an orange beam strikes him, spraying his flesh with acid, but he is the lucky one. A green beam strikes his compatriot in the chest. The man staggers, clawing at his chest and throat even as a similar pallor shoots up his face, and then collapses, dead on the spot. A similar green beam strikes the figure with the flaming sword, but his undead form has nothing that poison can affect. Two beams, both blue in color, shoot towards the lich. Emrena blinks out just as one passes through the spot where she was, and then in again an instant later as the second beam hits. For a moment a stony gray color shoots up over her form, but then she focuses and throws off the effect.

Emrena doesn’t even spare a look at her dead ally, all her attention focused squarely on Nameless. “This is for Arkhandus, you swine!” she says, as she casts one of her usual _enervation_s. But just as she completes it, Korm flings open his door and rushes out, catching her in the shoulder. The unexpected blow swings the much smaller and lighter figure off balance, and her spell goes awry, the coruscating beam striking the unfortunate cleric instead*. He screams and falls back against the wall behind him. Emrena snarls in anger, stepping away from Korm, and snaps, “Sorry!” before pointing at Nameless. “Kill him!” She underlines the words with an incredibly quick set of _scorching ray_s, two of which sear Nameless’ chest.

The undead with the flaming sword looks at Korm almost wistfully and then says, “Very well,” before turning and charging Nameless. As he flies forward, the green flames along the sword flare with increased virulence. As his aura reaches Nameless, he too feels the same surge of despair that Six had earlier, and he suddenly realizes what the creature is. _Death knight!_ Nameless opens his mouth to yell a warning to the others, but it’s too late. 

The skeletal skull looms over him and the sword flashes down in a perfectly aimed stroke**. It bites through the layers of magical protection and Nameless’ magically hardened flesh parts beneath the edge, muscle and bone and flesh simultaneously cleaved and scorched by the unholy blade. Ribs crack and shatter, and Nameless’ right lung collapses as shards of bone are driven into it. Blood fountains from the wound, spraying Nameless and the death knight, droplets spattering on Six’s metal face as he looks up from the stairs below. 

The horrendous wound, probably the worst that the alienist has suffered in a career with many deadly injuries, would have dropped him anyway. But there is another factor at work. A death knight’s soul rests in its blade, just as a lich’s does in its phylactery, and it reaches hungrily for the life contained within any flesh it physically touches. Now, as the sword’s blade does its deadly work, something within it extends cold fingers of unlife, draining warmth and energy from Nameless. The combination is far beyond what the alienist can endure and he collapses, blood pooling around his still form.

_Sh*t! If he’s dead...!_ Knowing that even if Nameless is alive he’s too far gone for a healing spell to bring him back to consciousness and functionality, Korm shouts, “Six – get him out of here!” Then he raises his voice and bellows as loud as he can, “Gareth! Luna! Get your asses here NOW!”

On the floor above, Gareth hears him, but after a moment’s thought, decides a little more protection is in order, and begins to cast more spells before heading out the door. Luna, conversely, hears Korm, shouts, “Sh*t!” and orders the two elementals to rush upstairs and activates her belt, _dimension door_ing with one elemental to the floor where the battle is occurring.

At least that’s her plan. Unfortunately, Emrena has a _greater anticipate teleportation_ in effect, and Luna and her elemental are held in temporary stasis rather than appearing where the druid planned. Though the lich realizes what happened, she has more important matters in hand. Even before Korm finishes his shout, Six rushes up the stairs, whirls Nameless’ body up and leaps back down again. “Change of plan,” Six calls to the warforged guards, rushing after them. “Get the door open!”

Emrena hurls a _fireball_ after them. Six agilely evades the blast, but the magical flames envelop Nameless. The warforged looks down, expecting to find himself carrying a charred corpse, but the alienist’s body has suffered no more harm. Emrena’s earlier attack had activated a _contingency_ he had previously cast, and now Nameless’ body is protected from heat of all kinds.

As Six continues to rush down the stairs, Emrena snarls her frustration and flies after them. Right now, all the lich can think of is her dead lover and the fact that Nameless was the one who cast the spell that slew him. The existence of other enemies is immaterial to her in the quest to ensure that the alienist at least is dead. Of course, some of the enemies are not as happy to be ignored. As she flies forward, Korm reaches out and grabs her shoulder. “Not so fast,” he says, channeling the positive energy of a _heal_ into her. 

To his surprise, the lich doesn’t even flinch, only a flicker of dark energy appearing around her form to absorb his spell’s effect***. And then she _blink_s out of his grasp and is flying down the stairs, yelling, “Keep them busy!”
The death knight calmly says, “Very well,” and turns to Korm, raising his sword in a martial salute and adding, “This is an honor!” The cleric, clearly much less happy with the arrangement, shouts, “Emrena – don’t leave us!” Then, with no other option, he casts an _enervation_ at Korm, which dissipates harmlessly against the _death ward_ the Gatekeeper put up before emerging from his room.

Korm growls at the death knight and takes a step back, using the shamanistic power of the evil eye on the cleric, sending him cowering back in terror. Then he rushes in, meteoric blade meeting death knight’s soul-sword. The combatant’s exchange blows, quickly reaching equilibrium, Korm’s greater skill and strength well matched by his enemy’s resilience and apparent ability to heal his wounds over time.   

The balance changes abruptly, as Gareth finally joins the battle. The first sign of his arrival is the headless body of the unfortunate cleric, which tumbles down the stairs he was fleeing up when he met the paladin going the other way. Gareth’s hurries down the rest of the way, to be greeted by a growl of “About time you showed up!” from Korm. 

The death knight too spares him a quick glance and says, sounding appreciative, “The paladin. This is truly an honor!” He then walks over towards Gareth, almost ignoring Korm, until he has to bring his shield up to catch a brutal slash from the Gatekeeper’s sword. “Don’t turn your back on me!” says Korm, unleashing a series of hammer blows. The meteoric sword strikes the raised shield once, twice and a third time, each blow further bending the magical metal surface, till it finally cracks and breaks in half. 

The death knight flings away the useless shield and hurriedly slashes at Korm, laying his side open, but this leaves him unable to guard himself from Gareth. The paladin glares, recognizing him for what he is, and says, “A death knight! Your ‘honor’ is a foul sham!” Then he steps up behind it, calling on the Silver Flame, and smites it again and again. The combination of the Endless Blade and Gareth’s divinely granted abilities allow him to ignore most of the creature’s unnatural resilience, and the silver fire that envelops his sword burn deep holes in its undead flesh. Each blow bites deeper, and like Korm did to its shield, the third crumples it in half, severing the death knight’s spine. He falls without a word, crumbling into a fine dust as he does so.

Gareth snaps, “Destroy the sword!” indicating the sword near Korm’s foot, which still burns with the green flames. “Sure,” says the Gatekeeper, and brings his blade down. There’s a terrific crack and an explosion of dark energy, which washes harmlessly over the two Angels, accompanied by a faint scream at the edge of their hearing, swiftly dwindling into nothingness. And then all that remains are the shattered metal fragments.

“So - where’s Nameless?”

Meanwhile, below them, Six rushes for the doors, Emrena flying in pursuit. As he reaches the doors, which his warforged guards have just opened, the craggy forms of two elementals rise through the floor. Impelled by the magic of Luna’s spell, they move to block the lich’s path, boulder-like fists swinging at her. Taking advantage of the interruption, Six leaps through the door, shouting, “Shut the doors!” Before he can clarify that they should follow him and then do so, the two guards comply from where they stand, shutting themselves in with Emrena and the elementals. 

_Damn!_ Six turns to the remaining pair of warforged guards, who are advancing on him from their guard post beside the skybridge that connects their mansion to the rest of the main tower it is on, and shouts, “Stay back!” Even as he speaks, there is a tremendous explosion and the double doors behind him explode outwards in a burst of wooden shards, twisted metal and a sheet of fire. Six looks back to see the lich flying through the huge hole. Behind it lie the two twisted forms of the warforged guards who had remained inside, scorched and battered beyond recognition, and the badly burned shapes of the two elementals. The summoned creatures strike at Emrena with little or no effect, but she gives them no attention, focusing purely on her quarry.

Realizing that heading for the other end of the skybridge will never work, Six simply leaps over the side instead. A startled Emrena rushes after him, but when she looks down, instead of seeing his shape dwindling into the depths of Sharn to crash and die, she finds him only sixty feet below. The skybridges of Upper Tavick’s are all built to activate a _feather fall_ effect on anyone who falls over them, and Six uses it to land on a lower level. Though this too is an open skybridge, it leads into one of the huge open-air markets that fill the inside of an entire tower. And though there are no crowds at this time of night, the few people in the area screaming and running from the explosion and the strange figures of the shadow-draped warforged and the lich, Six knows that once inside he can hide easily.

Emrena flies after him, but as his feet hit the skybridge Six breaks into a run. Realizing that she may not be able to reach him before he gets under cover, she unleashes another spell. An arc of lightning loops back and forth between Six and Nameless’ still form. The warforged ignores the pain, but the alienist’s body leaps in his arms and then falls back. 

Emrena laughs in triumph and opens her mouth to shout something, when a strange apparition appears near her. It is a large black stag, with hooves seemingly made of smoke, appearing as a spectral form and growing steadily more solid as it gallops through the air towards her. Korm and Gareth ride it, seemingly solidifying like the mount. The Gatekeeper has summoned a _phantom stag_ and used its ability to turn ethereal to reach their target, and as he guides it past the startled lich, Gareth swings the Endless Blade (now appearing as a large two-handed club) into her side with shattering force. 

The lich is hurled back at the impact. She looks back and forth for an instant between the stag and its riders, and Six as he disappears into the darkened tower interior, and then makes a decision. “I will deal with you later,” she says, with a half snarl and half laugh, “But I have my revenge!” With that, she casts a spell and disappears.

“Has her revenge?” asks Korm. “I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it does.”

Well hidden below them, Six can vouch for her words. Once there is no longer any pursuit, he lays Nameless on the ground and tries to pour a healing potion in his mouth. But it dribbles out uselessly, and when he checks for breath or pulse or heartbeat, there is nothing. 

Nameless is dead****

…again.


* Result of a swashbuckling card that made an enemy strike an ally instead
** The other players did this to him. The death knight hit Nameless for substantial damage as well as two negative levels, so someone played a card to make me reroll the attack. I said, “If this now happens to crit, I’ll die laughing.” And promptly rolled a natural 20 on the reroll and a natural 19 to confirm.
*** Life Ward is a beautiful thing
**** In our game, even though you can use three swashbuckling cards to keep a PC alive at -9, if he takes further damage then he’s dead. And Emrena nailed Nameless with that last spell.


----------



## carborundum

shilsen said:
			
		

> Nameless is dead





Oh sh**!


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> Oh sh**!



 Tell me about it. I think the bastards broke my favorite campaign setting!

*sob*


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> Tell me about it. I think the bastards broke my favorite campaign setting!
> 
> *sob*





Oh quit your crying. We did you a favor.

-Avi

P.S. Shilsen  isn't broken, his players are


----------



## carborundum

Oh my God, they killed Eberron!

There goes the neighbourhood!

<insert cliché of choice>


----------



## Furby076

carborundum said:
			
		

> Oh my God, they killed Eberron!
> 
> There goes the neighbourhood!
> 
> <insert cliché of choice>





"OH MY GOD YOU KILLED EBERRON"

<blink>
"YOU B@ST@RDS!"


----------



## Vorput

So... I take it none of those swashbuckling cards grant a d12 hit die then?



> <insert cliché of choice>




Alas, poor Nameless! I knew him, Horatio


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> So... I take it none of those swashbuckling cards grant a d12 hit die then?




Actually, while it didn't come across in the write-up, Nameless was really yo-yo-ing between down and up there. Due largely to the swashbuckling cards. The attack from the Death Knight actually came before the Lich's attacks on Nameless (Shil changed that in the writeup for dramatic reasons) and would have dropped him. Mostly due to the 4 negative levels it hit him with. We used a card to keep him from going past -9 and another to let him stay conscious. Then we used a card to make the enervation she cast hit her ally, so that didn't drop Nameless. The Scorching Ray was going to drop him, but I remembered that he has a Ring of Greater Counterspells. That give you a free counterspell attempt once a day, but I rolled a one on that. So Nameless went down, but then I remembered the Contingency [Prot Energy : Fire], but then Shil told me that he doesn't let Contingency trigger to protect you from an attack like that (Which I think kinda is the whole point of the spell that it does, but the card that we used to switch the Enervation target technically wouldn't have applied so I didn't argue the point further) and thus Nameless went down for a final time.



			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> Alas, poor Nameless! I knew him, Horatio




I don't think Horatio reads the story hour, but he used to bump Sepulchrave's SH regularly.


----------



## shilsen

We've handled some stuff via the forums we use for the game, so a lot of the following is from there:

* * * * * * * * * *

Nameless opens his eyes, to find himself lying at the bottom of a strange cylindrical chamber, six feet in diameter and ten feet deep, lit by a _continual flame_ torch. One look at the featureless black surface that makes up the ceiling, the strange combination of an impassable barrier and not really present on the same plane, identifies the location. _I’m inside the _portable hole_! I wonder what happened. Last thing I remember was the death knight...oh!_ 

The alienist rises and looks down at the remnants of the wound in his chest and shoulder, slowly healing as Mordain’s modifications do their work. Then he sits down on the small stool in the corner, next to a small pile of books, a pack of cards, and a magical bottle which contains an infinite amount of air. _I guess they put me in here to keep me safe. I hope they get me out soon._

As he sits down, Nameless’ brow furrows. Something feels different. Then he realizes what it was and hurriedly looks down…

* * *

“You’re sure he’s dead? Like dead dead?”

“Yes, Luna – I’m sure,” says Six. “I checked. And I don’t always get how your bodies work, but I’m fairly sure.”

“This is really not good,” says Gareth. “Damn it! I knew we shouldn’t have had Nameless wandering around.”

“I also knew we shouldn’t have been taunting liches,” says Six flatly. “Anyway, the question is – now what do we do?”

“Depends on what happens, doesn’t it?” says Korm. “I don’t see any portals opening up anywhere.”

“It couldn’t have opened up inside the _portable hole_, could it?” asks Gareth.

“I don’t know, but we need to get him out. This time _I’m_ bringing him back!” says Luna, giving Korm a dirty look.

Six says, “All right.” He places the _portable hole_ on the floor, opens it and looks in. To see a worried looking Nameless looking back up at him. There is a pause and then Six says, “You’re alive?” 

“Usually. Why?”

As Nameless rises into the air and out of the hole, Six says, “You were dead. At least I’m quite sure you were dead. Really dead.”

“Damn!” says Nameless, “That explains it. When I woke up, I was quite sure I had just died. But I never saw Xoriat, nor did I have any ill effects from having returned to life. Other than that the aura in my chest is gone. What happened? Was it the death knight’s attack that killed me?”

Six quickly explains what happened. When he has done so, Nameless says, “We need to check the location where she ‘killed’ me. If the seed is planted presumably that would be the location.” He heads downstairs, along with the others, and out onto the skybridge. Six indicates the spot below where Emrena hit him with the final spell, but Nameless’ _arcane sight_ shows nothing. 

“Okay, I have to think about this,” says the alienist, heading back in. As they enter, Fett finally makes a cautious appearance from his room. He shrugs apologetically as he sees the Angels and says, “I heard all the shouting and fighting, and figured it was better if I didn’t get in the way. What happened?”

“We got attacked by the lich,” says Korm.

“The lich you put the ad in the paper making fun of?”

“I see a certain advantage to being human,” says Six. “I can’t roll my eyes.”

“Quiet, you!” says Luna. “It was funny!”

Gareth sighs and says, “Anyway, we have some issues that came up, Fett. We’ll catch you up on them later, if you don’t mind.” 

“Sure.” Fett watches curiously as the group heads upstairs, looks at the shattered doors, and then heads over to talk to the warforged guards.

Upstairs, once they are inside one of the rooms, Gareth begins to pace the floor thoughtfully. “First things first – Nameless, Luna – can either of you contact the group of people who were trying to ‘help’ us?  If so, we need to find out if they did this switch or if the portal actually opened.  If they switched, then we handle it one way. And if the portal was opened, then what I’m about to say applies.”

Gareth looks around at the others, his face serious. “We need to tell certain people what has happened, but we don’t want to cause mass public hysteria.  Most of the population will not be able to help, but will only get themselves hurt – and worse, probably lead to rioting, looting, and pillaging. I don’t think aberrations will start pouring in instantaneously – but I don’t think we have much time either, so we need to act fast.”

Despite the circumstances, the others exchange amused glances as the paladin keeps talking. “We need to use our contacts, starting with those in Sharn and working outwards to save time. I will go to both churches and also inform the Archierophant that I need to get an audience with Flamekeep; she is upset with me, but she will have to put that aside. The Church is the most organized group available to combat these forces.  I will contact Cedric too, because we need a powerful ally with us.  I will inform Lalia, who can speak with the Deneith enclave; they can help keep the population in check and safe from weaker aberrations.  We also need to contact the Citadel. They specialize in information and we should ask them to get us information about the lich. She will attack again, I’m sure, and we need to take her out before she can attack us at an inopportune time. I’m not sure how many more times we can get lucky, and while we were not lucky tonight, at least we are all alive now.”

“Korm, Luna – you should notify your druidic circles.  Nameless – you should notify Trillia and your mage circles, plus whatever other contacts you have. Then we need to send out messages to our contacts in other realms – Karrnath, Aundair, the Lhazaar principalties, etc. The highest ranking officials we know. If someone is not high enough, we bypass them to save time.”

“Nameless can you find a way to contact the dragons? We have no relations with them, but we did help one of their kind before. We have drunk of their blood, so maybe they can sense that in us. We will need their help if Xoriat is upon us. You also had a plan for us to get groups of weaker adventurers to work for us. We need to step this up.  I am going to the newspaper, and without saying why I am making a call to all clerics and paladins. I will be putting them through extensive screenings, but we need to muster more support. These support units can help protect cities and towns, but can also go on missions that we do not have time to go on, especially if we are on other larger and more dangerous missions that only we can handle. And then…”

He falls silent as Luna collapses on the floor, laughing hysterically. “Paranoid much?! And you want us to get help from dragons because we’ve drunk the blood of one?” Anything else she might have said dissolves into laughter.

Nameless smiles, a trifle grimly, and says, “Luna is right. I don’t recommend we do anything rash or cause alarms to start ringing, or at least avoid running across Khorvaire going, ‘Xoriat is coming! Xoriat is coming!’ And not only because the vast number of people out there have never even heard of it. I am going to get some answers. There is a certain cost to what I am about to do, which is why I have not done it up until this point. But certainty of answers is what we need now.”

Gareth scowls at Luna and then turns to Nameless. “What do you have…”

There’s a knock on the door. Gareth’s scowl deepens and he walks over to open it. “Sorry,” says Fett, at the door, “But it’s a bunch of Deneith guards here to check on the trouble. You guys need to come out and explain. I tried to, but they want to speak to you. Plus, I don’t really know exactly what just went on.” He grins. “Hint, hint.”

Gareth sighs. “I think I should handle this.  My ties to the Deneith enclave provide me some extra assistance when dealing with these people. Stay here.” He looks particularly at Luna and then heads downstairs. 

The guards, standing on the skybridge leading to the house, consist of a dozen men wearing the insignia of the Deneith Blademark, led by a captain. Not too far away behind them are a few people, whom events outside the Gray House have attracted even at this time of night. A couple of the closest tower mansions have lights on and people watching from windows and balconies too. Gareth walks outside to meet them. “I am Gareth Byron Deneith, holy paladin of the Silver Flame. How can I be of assistance?”

The captain salutes and says, “I believe there was some kind of disturbance here, sir,” looking meaningfully at the shattered remnants of the main door to the house. “Can you tell me exactly what happened? And do you need any assistance?”

“Please come inside, captain. Out here in public is not the best place to speak.” As Gareth and the captain walk into the foyer of the Gray House, Nameless is waiting, standing to the side of the door so that he cannot be seen from outside, hat drawn low over his face. As the captain’s men enter the building, he quickly turns away and precedes Gareth and the captain into the living room. Fett, who is also waiting, follows them.

Gareth shuts the door and walks over to the bar to pour a drink. “Would you like a drink? We do not need any assistance at this point, and I believe the problem has been quelled for now. We were attacked by members of the Emerald Claw. We killed all but one of them, who managed to flee.” Pausing for a moment to let the captain absorb the news, he adds, “My sincere apologies to anyone who was disturbed.”

The captain nods at Nameless and then waves away the drink, saying, “Thank you, but I’m on duty. The Emerald Claw? That’s unfortunate. I’ve heard about the history of this house and its connection with them. Could you please give me some details about the attack, who you killed and especially the person who fled?” He looks a little apologetic. “I’ll need to write a report when I return, so any details you give me make my life easier.”

Gareth explains, “We were attacked by Emrena the Red, a lich whose boyfriend we had killed during our earlier adventures. She was followed by two clerics and a death knight. They _teleport_ed into our home while we were sleeping. Emrena was able to flee; the rest died. In a nutshell, that is what happened. Do you have any questions?”

The captain looks a little surprised. He asks a couple of simple questions and then says, “That’s all. Thank you.”

“Not a problem. Would you do me a favor and please find Lalia d’Deneith for me?  I need to speak with her, and it is urgent.”

The captain smiles. “Too late. A messenger’s already been dispatched to her. The Sentinel Marshal has standing orders at the enclave to be informed instantly if you have any trouble.”

Nameless finally speaks up. “I have an additional request. Please announce that I was in fact killed by the lich. That was her aim and, hopefully, that should keep her from trying again until we are ready to deal with her. It may prove useful in other respects to have people believing that I am dead.”

The captain looks a little uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, sir,” he says, “But I can’t make a decision on that matter. I have to report the facts to the enclave, but I can take your request to my superiors. But that shouldn’t be a problem for you, since it’s not as if House Deneith will be announcing anything about the attack. You have connections in the Korranberg Chronicle, right? Maybe they could do that for you?”

“All right,” says Nameless. “That is acceptable.” 

The captain excuses himself and leaves with his squad. Once they have gone, Fett says, “Suddenly I feel even better about not having left my room.” As he is speaking, the two warforged guards come up to the trio. One says, “We need to be excused from work tomorrow. We must take our slain colleagues to Smith, in the Cogs.”

“That is not a problem,” says Gareth, “Thank you for your services tonight.” 

When Nameless and he head upstairs and tell the others what happened, Six says, “I shall go with them tomorrow. I need to find some things out too.”

“Just wait until I have tried to gain some information in the morning,” says Nameless.

With that decided, Six heads downstairs to speak to the other warforged, while his companions go back to bed.

***

About an hour after the attack occurred, Gareth is woken by a knocking on his door. He stumbles out of bed, reflexively bringing forth the Endless Blade, but then realizes who it might be. Opening the door, he finds Lalia, accompanied by one of the warforged guards, fully armed and armored, and slightly out of breath, as if she’s been hurrying. “All right,” she says without preamble, as he opens the door. “I heard that you got attacked by that lich you idiots were taunting. Is everyone all right? Oh ... and let me in.”

Gareth quickly motions her Lalia inside, closes the door, and gives her a hug. “It's good to see you. Everyone is fine, sort of....” He goes to put on a shirt, adding, “Have a seat, please. We ran into a problem.”

Lalia steps in and hugs him back. She drops into a seat and says, “Yeah, yeah – I’m sure it’s really good to see me after hanging out with Karrn princesses and all.”

Gareth returns with a quizzical look on his face. “You’re the fourth person who mentioned the princess and me. I don't understand? I was guarding her and people are acting odd about it.”

Lalia shakes her head and says, her tone a mixture of affection and exasperation, “Do you ever look at yourself in a mirror? Whether you’re doing anything about it or not, the whole setup of ‘hunky paladin guards young, nubile princess’ has a lot of potential.”

_Oh! Is she jealous?_ Gareth walks over to her and putting both of his hands on her arms. “I didn’t reali…, I mean, nothing happen… I was just guarding her. I swear to you.” He looks into Lalia’s eyes, a worried look in his own.

Lalia takes Gareth's hand and gives it a squeeze. “Relax, Gareth. I trust you. Hells, you have a hard enough time making a move on _me_!” Gareth blushes, wishing he was wearing his helmet. Though the color on his face makes her grin, Lalia doesn’t take advantage of his discomfiture. Instead, she asks, “So what’s the problem? The lich that got away? And what did you mean ‘fine, sort of’?” She winces. “You’re not going to tell me something screwy happened with Nameless again, are you?”

“Yeah, well – about Nameless. He died....” Pausing for a second, he adds, “We think. We’re not too sure.”

This time, all humor disappears from Lalia’s tone and manner. “You’re ... not sure ... if he died? What the hell does that mean? And what about that whole thing with the portal to Xoriat that you mentioned? Wasn’t him dying supposed to trigger it or something?”

Gareth shrugs. “We don’t know what happened.  Emrena the Red killed him, or at least that’s what we thought. Six placed him in the _portable hole_, and when we went to get him out the aura of the portal was gone. Nameless also said he was sure he died. Now Nameless is going to prepare some spells to see if the portal or portals were released. Those spells are dangerous, and of themselves might kill him.” 

Lalia looks first worried and then confused. “So he died and then got better? But that portal ... thingie is gone?” She stops and puts her head in her hands for a moment, before raising it again. “Sometimes – actually, often – I wonder how you guys get into all the trouble you do. Maybe I should have got House Deneith to lock you all up in a small room a long time ago!”

Gareth sighs. “We are not sure if he died, or at least not yet.  But I don’t think it would have been a good idea to lock up Nameless. That would have set the portal off in a two week period.” He pauses and a thin smile appears on his face as he realizes Lalia was joking, “And Luna probably faster.” 

Despite the severity of the situation, Lalia's smile widens. “Point taken.” Gareth continues, more seriously, “We can’t let everyone know what is going on. Only certain people – you are one of them, and the head of the Deneith enclave.  If the general populace knew what may happen, it would cause mass hysteria.  The Deneith enclave can help with weaker aberrations if any appear in the city, or other spots – but you need to know what may come out.” 

Lalia rubs her nose in thought. “Yeah, I can tell Lord Sadran about it, but I’m not guaranteeing that he’ll buy it. He’ll believe me if I say that _you_ believe it, but that doesn’t mean he'll think you’re right. If you can give me more proof, now or later, that’ll help.”

“If Lord Sadran would like to speak with us I can make that happen, but I do not have any proof. The only evidence earlier was available to people who were able to see the magical aura on Nameless before, and that it is gone now.” Lalia nods thoughtfully, and then asks, “True. Of course, seeing the aura would just prove that there was ... well, an aura. Not that it was actually a portal or something. Right?”

Gareth nods his head in agreement, “Yes, you are quite right. To most it would just be a very powerful aura, but that is all. Any other proof would be a maddening horror appearing and causing havoc. He just needs to be prepared. I will jot down a list of basic things that are common to most types of aberrations – both strengths and weaknesses.”

Lalia nods while he fetches a sheet of parchment. “That should help. The enclave here doesn’t get to run into aberrations on a regular basis, naturally. Maybe a special job by the Blademark cleaning out an infestation in the Cogs, but it’s very rare that we’re called in for such a task. Tasra and I are probably the two who’ve seen the most in the pursuit of our duties, and even we’ve only seen or fought a couple.”

After jotting down some information, Gareth hands over the parchment, “Here. There is not much to it. Be very careful of a creature called a chaos beast. Avoid coming into physical contact with any of these monsters, but especially that one.” His speech slows and then he says, “There’s one more thing that’s even more important. I need to find a way to keep you safe.”

The corners of Lalia’s eyes crinkle as a smile spreads across her face. “You’re sweet. Even if you won’t put out.” She chuckles, and though the laughter fades, there’s a softness in her eyes. “Don’t worry. I can look after myself, and House Deneith has more resources than you might think. And somehow it seems the danger you get yourself into is a lot worse than anything I ever have to deal with. Hells, the last time I almost got killed was when messing with Daask in the Cogs with you, remember?” She cocks her head. “You're going to end up neck deep in this situation, aren’t you? What are you – and the others – planning?”

Gareth blushes again and then his face turns to solid stone, with no trace of mirth or joy in his voice. “The Cogs and Daask is an 8 year old thug compared to what we will encounter. You have never seen, and I pray to the Silver Flame you never will, the horrors that I have seen. Listen to me, my love – these creatures are utter chaos. They cannot be reasoned with or bargained with; they feel no pity, no remorse, no fear – and they will absolutely not stop until all has been destroyed.” He sighs. “I need to keep you safe, but I do not know how to do this when I must travel to unknown parts that are extremely dangerous.” He runs his hands worriedly though his hair. “Leave this place. Come stay at my parents’ home in Karrnath. It is less populated and you will be safe there.”

Lalia listens with complete seriousness and then slowly smiles, albeit also with little humor. “You really have a strange way of trying to get me to meet the folks, you know?” She quickly lifts a hand, to indicate she’s joking, and continues, “But that’s not an option. I can’t just pick up and leave Sharn. This is my home, where I was born and raised, where my family and friends are. And I have responsibilities here. I’ve sworn oaths to serve House Deneith, to protect the people of Sharn, and beyond that to track down and bring criminals to justice wherever in Khorvaire they may go. You have your oaths to the Flame too. Would you turn your back on them just because a situation was dangerous and go off where it was safer? I think not. Neither can – or will – I.” 

When Lalia mentions oaths and promises, Gareth smiles grimly. “I love you dearly, Lalia, and part of the reason is the level of commitment that you have, one that most paladins would be jealous of; but I think if there is anything that would ever cause me to break my oaths it would be you. Do not get hurt! Make me that oath, because I don’t know what I would do if you did.”

Lalia looks silently at Gareth for a few moments. Then she says, “I’ll try not to.” Then she takes a deep breath and shrugs. “On the bright side, you’re not really sure when, or even if, this is certain to happen, right? Maybe it won’t be anything like what you fear. But even if it is, I’ve got to stay here. But I really, really appreciate the thought.” 

Gareth nods. “Maybe. We will know more in the morning. I’ll send you the information as soon as I can.”

“All right.” Lalia rises, her tone more casual and cheerful now, “But now I should leave, since I might be tempted to thank you for that sentiment, and,” she grins, “That’ll just lead to yelling and screaming. And you look like you could use some rest.” She steps over to Gareth, gives him a strong hug and a long, passionate kiss. Eventually disengaging, she looks down and grins so broadly that the top of her head threatens to come off. “Oh, look – you _can_ teach an old dog new tricks! I knew there was an advantage to you not wearing pants.” Then she laughs, turns and heads out the door.

Gareth looks down too, turning beetroot red and instantly regretting not having put on something over his underpants. With a sigh, he goes back to bed.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:
			
		

> So Nameless went down, but then I remembered the Contingency [Prot Energy : Fire],




Maybe some people can chime in with their thoughts on this.  Personally, for something like contingency if it is worded "When someone casts a fire spell that will affect me, then activate".  Well then the moment someone  casts a fire spell (e.g. fireball) on the person with contingency it should activate to protect them.


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:
			
		

> Maybe some people can chime in with their thoughts on this.  Personally, for something like contingency if it is worded "When someone casts a fire spell that will affect me, then activate".  Well then the moment someone  casts a fire spell (e.g. fireball) on the person with contingency it should activate to protect them.



 Why not start a thread on the Rules Forum on the subject? Or resurrect one of the following ones. The first thread is by Rackhir and the following one has links to a lot of other Contingency threads:

http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=190300

http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=138379


----------



## carborundum

That update was a joy to read - the characters just get more and more real - you're getting mighty good at this!

Nice Benny Hill ending too


----------



## Rackhir

Well we had quite the battle today and about as close to a TPK as we've ever come. You're about 2 write-ups away from that though.


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> That update was a joy to read - the characters just get more and more real - you're getting mighty good at this!




Thanks. I can't take all the credit in that update, since a lot was taken from the forums we use for handling stuff between sessions, so I was using stuff written by the players. But I did throw in some things, as I do in every writeup, to give a better sense of the individual characters. It definitely helps that they're all so very distinctive.



> Nice Benny Hill ending too




It just seemed the appropriate response. Lalia is fun to NPC 

And here's the next bit (in 2 parts, since the forum is misbehaving) ...

* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, the Angels gather in Nameless’ conjuration chamber. Except for Luna, who has been sent off to inform Gurr’khan that they will be a little late for their planned meeting in the park, grumbling and protesting that she wants to be there to “see Nameless’ brain come out of his ears.”

Attempting to prevent that from occurring, the alienist first uses a _limited wish_ and then a _contact other plane_, trying to contact Cyäegha. Once he completes it, the alienist feels his consciousness expand, accompanied by the mildly narcotic pleasure that always accompanies his use of this spell. His vision darkens and then the chamber around him quickly fades, replaced by a dark gray expanse. In front of him hangs the glowing web pulsing with light, which represents the reservoir of cosmic knowledge that he is currently in contact with. The web is unusually bright this time, with literally every sections illuminated, since Nameless is attempting a supremely high degree of contact.

As always, there is a growing physical pressure inside his head, which disappears suddenly. And then comes the expected mental command – *Ask.*

Nameless waits for the irresistible force that transported him the last time that he attempted this spell, into contact with Cyäegha. But nothing happens. 

After a few seconds, the mental command repeats itself – *Ask.*

_Perhaps the disappearance of the aura means my link to Xoriat has changed_. Uncertain what he can do about that, Nameless searches the area around him. And then he notices another thing that is different. A section of the dark gray space, ‘below’ the gleaming web, is shot through with tiny flickers of green and purple. 

_Let’s try this, then._ Nameless concentrates on that area, attempting to break through to Xoriat and Cyäegha by an exercise of will. 

As he concentrates, Nameless’ consciousness drifts forward and down, passing through the web of light and nearing the section of grayness that has drawn his attention. The purple and green flecks seem to increase in number and size, and then he runs into a solid obstruction. Or, more precisely, a glutinous one. It gives slightly at the impact but holds firm. Nameless concentrates and the barrier bends gradually, but it does not break. The alienist continues to focus, feeling a slow headache begin, and again the obstruction is stretched but still holds. 

Finally, Nameless considers utilizing prepared arcane energy in an attempt to break through. He uses his most powerful summoning, trying to channel the energy into the obstruction. Instantly, he feels the invisible obstruction rupture and tear around him. The grayness dissolves into pure blackness and Nameless shoots forward into it. As the darkness surrounds him, giant tentacles appear, reaching out towards him. Everything goes black.

…

Back in Sharn, the others watch warily as Nameless’ eyes go completely black, and he shudders slightly. “I wonder if that’s how things are supposed to go,” says Gareth.

Six shakes his head mechanically. “Nothing we ever do is how things are supposed to go. As long as he doesn’t grow tentacles, I’ll be happy.” He glances at the appendage that grows out of Nameless’ left shoulder. “More tentacles, I mean.”

…

The darkness clears, and Nameless finds himself back within the gigantic cavern, right in front of the giant eyeball of Cyäegha. Though the alienist himself cannot see a physical form in the position he occupied, he realizes that the huge orb is focused on him. As before, the first sensation he feels is the wave of cosmic, but impersonal, evil. Then it passes and there is only the consciousness of Cyäegha bent to consider the interloper. 

Behind the crushing weight of the Great Old One's gaze, Nameless detects a tinge of amusement and, overlying it, expectation. As before, a pounding sensation fills the alienist’s head, which resolves into words. “You. Return. Hu-man. What. You. Desire. ?” Also, as before, Nameless feels his consciousness beginning to crumble. _I don’t have much time._

…

Gareth, Six and Korm watch drops of blood appear at each of Nameless’ nostrils. “Should I try healing him?” Gareth whispers, “I am not about to attempt any mental contact with him, though I am sure he would laugh if I attempted such a thing – and probably dare me to do it. He said this being he encountered was pure evil, so maybe casting a _protection from evil_ would help Nameless. Especially if this thing tries to control his mind.”

Korm shrugs. “Honestly, I have no clue. I don’t think anyone in the world really would, and even Nameless is mostly playing things by ear, I feel. But try it if you want.” He adds, “If you blow up or something, I’ll put you back together.”

“Thanks,” Gareth mutters sarcastically, “That makes me feel much better!” Then he casts a _magic circle against evil_ on himself and slowly moves closer to Nameless, letting the aura envelop the alienist’s form.

…

Nameless replies to Cyäegha, “I have a bargain to offer you. There are few with the will and the strength to be able to survive your presence long enough to make such an offer, fewer still who can reach out to Xoriat. I need information and power, of which you have an unlimited amount. In exchange I offer you what you don’t have and can’t possess on your own.”

“Limitations.”

“You are ‘All-Seeing’, but that is the same in many respects as seeing nothing, as you found earlier when you were unaware of my presence. It takes limitations to give vision meaning. When my natural life span has passed, you will subsume me and my limitations will then give your vision meaning.”

Cyäegha doesn’t respond for a few seconds, and Nameless has the inordinate pleasure of realizing that he has just managed to momentarily stump a Great Old One. Being in Cyäegha’s presence makes it easy to pick up its – for lack of a better word – emotions due to the sheer force it exerts, and right now it is clearly attempting to understand a concept that is significantly alien to it. 

Finally, it again focuses on Nameless, and he again finds his consciousness beginning to bend under the weight. “Why. Limitations.? Need. No. Limitations. Need. Nothing.” There is another surge of amusement tinged with cruelty. “You. Here. Now. Can. Absorb. Now.” A giant tentacle rises languidly from the forest of them that stretch below the gigantic orb and reaches up towards Nameless.

The tentacle momentarily fills the alienist's vision as it passes through him, and there is an intensely draining feeling. But then the tentacle and the feeling are gone, though the weakness remains. And Cyäegha’s gaze. Which is touched for a moment by curiosity and then amusement, similar to that felt by a child seeing an ant perform an unexpected trick. “Not. Fully. Here. Now. Rare. Interesting.” There is a pause, and Nameless gets the sense that Cyäegha is attempting something that it very rarely – or never – does. “Listen. Will. I. What. Want. You?”

…

Even though Nameless is now fully within the magical circle of protection, there is no visible effect. Other than that more drops of blood are beginning to appear from the alienist’s nostrils, forming a sluggish stream that begins to drip onto the floor.

“This can’t be good.” Gareth places his hands on Nameless, with just a moment’s hesitation, and then channels some healing energy into the alienist.

…

Nameless asks, “First, I need to know exactly what the aura in my chest was.”

There’s a pause as Nameless waits for an answer, and then an excruciating pain. Through the agony, he realizes that Cyäegha is plumbing his thoughts and memories. The piercing ache slowly drops to a dull throb and Cyäegha’s mental voice speaks again. But now the manner of speech is changed and its tone is significantly different. And familiar. It takes a second before Nameless realizes that the voice being used by Cyäegha, even if distorted, is his own. 

The voice says, “This is better. Now I can speak to you in your language. Such an ineffective method. Very crude. Perhaps I can modify you for better...,” it pauses, “...no, perhaps later. The aura was a ... perhaps the best word is ‘seed.’ It is born of the daelkyr that first brought you to me – which planted it in you. And also of the one in your mind. It was to lay roots in your world and branch forth to mine, sundering the walls between the dimensions, again allowing the daelkyr and their hordes to travel to your world.” There is a pause and then it adds dismissively, “Frivolous fools.”

_Not a fan of the daelkyr, then. Maybe I can use that in some way._ “Thank you,” says Nameless. “If this ‘seed’ was a gate to Xoriat, I need to know how to close it or how to prevent it from opening.”

“It is not a gate. Now that it is planted, once it is come to full form it shall break the barriers. The old gates will open and new ones can be created. From your world to ours and from ours to yours. I have not created the seed, so I know little of its working, but perhaps slaying the daelkyr it is born of will destroy it. Or weaken it. Perhaps.”

_Oh, great!_ “What is the name of the daelkyr?”

“Which one? The one who brought you to me the first time, or the one whose imprint is in your mind?” 

_So my facsimile was a daelkyr?_“The one that planted the seed in me.”

“Antaryami, the Formless One, who brought you to me the first time in your form is the one who planted the seed in you. He is twin to the one that marked you – Antaratma, the Nameless one. And, I see, gave you your name.”

“Can we get to the Daelkyr before the seed has blossomed?”

“Antaryami? He dwells here on Xoriat. You and yours cannot travel here yet. You are here as consciousness only and soon will fade from here. Antaratma is bound below the surface of your world, and he has a connection to you and perhaps the seed. But I know not how long it will take for the seed to blossom.”

“Does the Daelkyr have any special vulnerabilities?”

“None more than any other daelkyr, and less than most, since both the Formless One and the Nameless One are lords of the daelkyr. What you call holy weapons should harm them.”

“What is the location of the seed on my plane?”

“I do not know. I can see much, but not all at once, so I do not always know where what I see is. And it has not blossomed, so I have not seen any manifestation. It may plant itself where the sources of your power come from, perhaps where Antaratma marked you.”

_The Mournland!_ Nameless tries to commit everything he has heard to memory, but it’s significantly difficult. The constant throbbing headache is getting stronger, and his consciousness is fading. Even so, he notes that it has done so much more slowly than last time. _That bears investigation. I wonder what else has changed._

…

Gareth looks at the others, a cloth held to Nameless’ nostrils, which is swiftly turning red from the blood now streaming from them. A slow stream is also emerging from each ear. “I can’t stop it, magically or otherwise, and it’s getting worse. It’s probably a byproduct of the spells he’s using.” He grimaces. “Of course, since he’s doing something that, as far as I know, nobody on the planet has been able to do in the last 7000 years, and what very few people were dumb enough to do before that, I’m mostly just guessing.”

“Maybe I should try a _heal_ after all,” says Korm. 

“Perhaps, but Nameless was insistent that you not use that spell on him even if something happens,” points out Six. “Do you have any idea why? Does the spell have any negative effects?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard,” says the Gatekeeper. “But who knows what applies with Nameless. Shall I try it?”

...

Lacking a body, Nameless cannot raise a hand to his throbbing head, where pain is beginning to turn into agony. Instead, he attempts to somehow extend his tenuous grip on consciousness and continue asking questions. 

He asks hurriedly, “I need to know what happened when I was killed by Emrena the Red. Was I killed? Why did I not stay dead? And I need to know the location of her phylactery. And what form it takes.” 

“Emrena’s last attack did slay you. It was the beat of your heart which kept the seed from being planted, so when it was no longer beating, the seed left you and planted itself in your world. You did not stay dead because Antaryami changed you when he found your essence floating in Xoriat after your first death, before you became conscious. He planted the seed in you and made you so that your soul could not truly depart your form after death until the seed was planted. So while the seed was planting itself, your soul remained within you. That allowed the changes made to you by the Fleshweaver to take effect, and so you rose again. You are...,” there is a moment of amusement, “...lucky.”

_Yeah, I feel so lucky now!_ thinks Nameless, as Cyäegha continues, “Emrena’s phylactery is a small carved blue gemstone. It is on what your people would call the island of Farlnen, in the Lhazaar Principalities, inside an undead dragon belonging to the Lady.”

By the time the answer, short as it may be, is completed, Nameless can see nothing more. But before he can descend into complete darkness, he makes a last request, one that he has been planning to make ever since he last encountered Cyäegha. “The creatures I can summon with conventional spells are only shadows of the real entities of Xoriat. I wish to bind to my service an entity that is more fully of Xoriat. Something not bound by the restrictions of more pedestrian creatures.”

Though he cannot see Cyäegha any more, Nameless hears its – his – voice reply simply, “The bargain is made. I have marked you for my own.”

And then all thought and awareness ceases.


----------



## shilsen

Nameless shudders slightly and then gently collapses into a heap on the floor. On the bright side, his brains aren’t actually coming out of his ears. On the dark side, he _is_ bleeding out of both ears and nostrils, but it does seem to be slowing rapidly. On the aberrant side, a little picture appears on his forehead, of a stylized eyeball with wavy tentacles for eyelashes*. It doesn’t grow or emerge gradually, but is simply not there one moment and present the next.

“What in the Flame is that?” says Gareth, leaning down to take a look.

“Umm, Gareth…”

The paladin looks up at the spot Korm is indicating, to see a tiny spot of light hanging in mid-air only a couple of feet from his face. It looks like a tiny beam shining through a hole in a wall, except, of course, that there is neither hole nor wall in front of Gareth. The color is, appropriately enough, perhaps best described as a nauseating mixture of purple and green.

Gareth quickly rises and backpedals, clicking his fingers to make the Endless Blade appear from his magical hand. As he is doing so, the beam expands quickly in width, clearly forming an aperture. As soon as it is a foot wide, the tips of four grayish-green tentacles shoot through, pushing in all directions and swiftly widening the hole. The tentacles push through, until each is over ten feet in length and as wide around as Korm’s waist. Between them a shapeless and bulbous mass, primarily the color of milk gone sour but shot through with livid veins of multiple colors and shades, shoves against the hole. Then, as the tentacles seem to grasp onto the air and pull, the central mass squeezes through with a slurping sound. The ‘hole’ instantly closes behind it, leaving the creature, whatever it is, floating in mid-air over Nameless’ unconscious form, its tentacles stretching out over those in the room. The entire process takes only a couple of seconds.

There is an instant of stunned silence and then the Endless Blade delivers its summation of the sight. “Are you f*cking kidding me?!”

A moment later, the tentacles lash out at the Angels, while they hurriedly strike back at it. As it attacks, each of the Angels feels a surge of supernatural terror wash over him, but with an effort of will combined with the divine aura of Gareth’s presence, they resist it. Not as easy to resist are the thunderous blows of the tentacles, which hit with a power that would break a normal man in half.

Also, although the three warriors hack into the creature’s central mass or its tentacles, they find its form resistant to their blows. Swords and chain strike, tearing large rents in the creature, but its amorphous mass almost seems to flow away from the attacks, robbing them somewhat of their force. A colorless ichor drips from the wounds, emitting a pungent odor, but the drops disappear in mid-air. Despite the wounds, the creature shows no signs of slackening its attacks.

_Thank the moons it appeared in this room_, thinks Korm, realizing that its ability to fly and tentacles would make things much more difficult in a larger space. Even so, the creature is clearly very dangerous, and though he is confident they will soon dispatch it, the Gatekeeper figures a couple of lucky hits might kill one of them. _And who knows if it has other abilities._ “Gareth,” he shouts, “This thing may work like a summoned creature. Throw up a _magic circle against evil_ and maybe that’ll stop it.”

“All right,” Gareth ducks under a tentacle and casts the spell. The result is not quite what Korm and he hoped for.

As he completes the spell, the creature pivots slightly, quite obviously shifting all its attention to the paladin even though it has neither eyes nor face to indicate that. Then all four tentacles lash at him, passing right through the _magic circle _. The giant appendages hit one by one, the first two knocking the paladin to a knee, and the next smashing him to the ground. The fourth tentacle curls as it comes down, turning into a massive club, and only a desperate effort by Gareth prevents it from smashing in his skull.** Even so, it smashes his shoulder.

And then both Gareth and the creature whiff out of existence.

Six, in the middle of launching a powerful blow, slips and almost falls as his target disappears. “Where’d it go?” He looks around quickly, experimentally whirling his chain to see if it’s somewhere around. 

Korm looks around frantically as well and then says, “Screw it! Whatever he said, we need Nameless back up.” As he strides over to the alienist’s recumbent form, he can’t help adding, “If Xoriat just ate Gareth, he’d want to know.” _And throw a party._ The Gatekeeper casts a _heal_ and reaches down. 

Nameless shudders as the healing energy floods into him and his eyes snap open. There’s a second of disorientation and then he focuses, looking up at the big orc with sword in hand and bruises blackening his gray skin. “What happened?” Nameless attempts to sit up and then grabs at his head. “Ow!”

“You started bleeding and passed out. And then some strange creature with lots of tentacles popped in and started attacking us.”

The alienist looks around. “Where?”

“It was here a second ago. Gareth threw up a _magic circle_ in case it was summoned in some way, but all it did was make it mad, I think. It smacked him around and then both of them disappeared. They were right over…”

Korm points and Gareth promptly reappears, the strange creature right next to and above him, its tentacles wrapped securely around him. The paladin’s face is pale and his eyes glazed over, as if he were dazed or drunk. Blood from the already inflicted wounds runs down his face.

“…there. How did I do that?” asks Korm, leaping to his feet, sword at the ready. “Six, Nameless – we have to get Gareth away from it.”

Even as he moves, the creature releases the paladin. Gareth looks around as if he has no idea where he is, looks up at the creature floating above him, and turns and runs for the door. The creature doesn’t respond in any way to his action and instead focuses on Six and Korm, its tentacles rearing up over them in readiness to smash down.

Before more violence can ensue, Nameless shouts a string of syllables. The others, who have learned a few words from him realize that it is the stomach-churning language of the daelkyr, but have no idea what he says. The effect, however, is immediate. The creature pauses, holding its position for a long second, and then retracts its tentacles and floats gently towards the alienist. “Nobody attack it,” he shouts, just in case.

“I’m not,” says Six, and the warforged then turns and rushes after Gareth. The paladin, however, has already reached the door, and he flings it open and runs out.

And bounces right off the giant hairy form of Luna, who has just returned and is heading for the room to see what happened. “What the hell?” she ejaculates, before staring past him at the creature. Immediately, she raises a huge paw and begins to growl arcane words.

“No! No _flame strike_!” yells Nameless urgently. “It’s a friend! Stop Gareth!”

The giant bear frowns and then swings its paw, taking Gareth off his feet. She then steps forward and squats down, causing him to disappear under her bulk, knowing that his magical necklace will prevent suffocation. Despite his magically enhanced strength, the immense weight promptly renders Gareth unable to move. “All right!” she growls, “Someone explain what that bloody thing is.” Then, more suspiciously, she adds, “Did you send me away and start a fight?”

“No, we didn’t start anything!” snaps Korm, sword still at the ready, before turning to Nameless and the creature. The latter now hovers above the alienist, and as Korm watches in mounting fascination and disgust, its tentacles snake down to wrap gently around Nameless in a ghastly facsimile of a mother cradling her baby. “What the hells is that thing? Or should I ask – what in Xoriat?”

“Close,” says Nameless. “I did see Cyäegha and I asked for an ally from Xoriat that I can summon to aid us in battle. This is it. Evidently it came with me when my consciousness returned to my body and attacked you by mistake.”

“Is that a mistake we can expect every time it’s here and you’re unconscious? You’re unconscious a lot, you know.”

Nameless grimaces, at the closing comment, not the tentacle snaking around his head and leaking ichor down the side of his face. “No, that should not happen again, now it knows you are friends.” He glances up at the creature and says, “Leave now.” It disappears instantly. “It is called Kha’tvan’ga,” Nameless explains. _Now how did I know that? And I know all its abilities. Cyäegha must have placed the information in my head. I wonder if he put anything else in._

“How nice. What did it do to Gareth? Did it take him back to Xoriat or something?” 

“And can I let him up?” puts in Luna, shifting uncomfortably. “He keeps wriggling.”

“Yes, do that.” Luna rises and shifts her weight, releasing both Gareth and the full sound of his yelling, which had been muffled by her fur and flesh. 

The paladin instantly shuts up and rises to his feet, his eyes no longer fogged as they had been a few moments earlier. “What happened? I remember that thing attacking me and then we were somewhere … else … but … I’m not sure.” He shudders visibly. Even though his divine gifts make him immune to fear, and he cannot recall where he was or what he saw, he knows it was an experience he never ever wishes to repeat. All that he recalls is a sense of confusion and a feeling of helplessness and nakedness, not physical but spiritual, and chaotic madness that he has no words for. 

“Kha’tvan’ga cannot transport anyone to Xoriat, but it can take an enemy to a place that is a shadow of Xoriat, and that can drive the creature mad or simply muddle its mind temporarily. You were lucky, Gareth!”***

“Yes, I feel blessed!” says Gareth, with a scowl. _If what I saw, whatever it was, is only a shadow of Xoriat, then I absolutely need to stop it entering our world. Otherwise...._ He shakes off the dark thoughts with a physical effort and asks, “Anyway, let’s forget that for now. What did you learn?”

“A fair amount, actually,” says Nameless. “Some good, some bad.” 


* Sometimes, when you gaze into the Abyss, the Abyss finger-paints on your face.

** Gareth had really bad luck, with four attacks getting through the 20% miss chance from his Cloak of Displacement and then one criticalling him despite his Armor of Moderate Fortification. The players used a swashbuckling card to reduce the damage, otherwise he’d have been below -10.

*** If you make the save, then you don’t remember where you went. Because you don't wanna.


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:
			
		

> * Sometimes, when you gaze into the Abyss, the Abyss finger-paints on your face.




::chuckles::


----------



## shilsen

And more material handled between sessions...

* * * * * * * * * *

Nameless explains, “I have most of the answers we sought. I was able to strike a bargain with one of the Great Old Ones. There was a price, but at least it is a price only I will have to pay. The gate – or more precisely, seed – is, alas, real. But we do have some time, though I do not know exactly how much, before the seed takes hold and is fully formed. I was given some clues as to where we might find it, but not an exact location. Fortunately, it does not appear that it will form in Sharn. The most likely location is in the Mournland, be that for weal or woe. Hopefully the effects of the Mournland will impede its growth. However, we will likely have to kill a daelkyr lord, possibly two, if we hope to seal the gate. We will need holy weapons to slay them. Gareth at least has such, and the rest of you we will have to procure weapons with the enchantment. We should do so promptly.”

He continues, “I was also able to obtain the information we need to hunt down Emrena the Red and destroy her permanently. I feel we should strike as soon as possible. We can’t afford any more interruptions like the one she sprang on us. It won’t be simple though, since her phylactery is apparently in some sort of an undead dragon. Located on the island of Farlnen, in the Lhazaar Principalities.”

“The Principalities?” asks Luna, perking up at the mention of Ryger’s land.

Gareth gives her a dirty look and moves up to help Nameless to his feet. “A dracolich? I had once heard a rumor that members of the Emerald Claw had tried to recover a dragon skeleton from the ancient graveyards of Q’barra and raise it as a dracolich. But there was never any recorded sighting of one.”

Nameless corrects him, “I didn’t say it was a dracolich. All I learned was that it is undead. As for news and rumors, the most recent mention, I believe, of a dragon in that area was a case of a blue dragon settling in the north-eastern Mror Holds nearly a century ago. It disappeared within a couple of years of its first appearance.” He rubs at his forehead. “I feel sore.”

Gareth says, “I think the creature that you sold your soul to has also marked your forehead.” He points Nameless to a mirror. While the alienist examines the mark, Gareth sighs and then says, “While it may only affect you, I am not happy that your soul has been sold to something. Or about what you brought back with you. But I’ll say this – you have done an amazing thing and sacrificed a lot for us, Nameless.”

Nameless looks at him with mild surprise, absent-mindedly rubbing the mark, and says, “I am starting to suspect that the Fates regard me as a child’s dress-up doll, but you misunderstand me, Gareth. It is not my soul that was payment – that holds no value to the Great Old Ones – but my mortality and identity. Or perhaps I simply surprised and amused it, at least apparently enough to give me some aid. But it was my rash actions that unleashed the seed. I should have been more careful with the lich. And so I must do what I can.”

Korm looks at Six. “Gareth just thanked Nameless and Nameless just said he was rash about something. Does this strike you as wrong, somehow?”

“Yes,” says Six. “Clearly we sent Nameless and got something else back. And Gareth suffered mental damage after being hugged by that creature.”

Gareth waves a hand dismissively and continues, “But back to business. I agree we should find and destroy Emrena the Red. As for the holy weapons, we can get scrolls to enchant weapons with such abilities.”  He looks at Luna. “You will have to use a weapon, other than your claws, for this enchantment to work.  Maybe a huge club, by turning into a creature that can wield it – like an ape.”

“Yeah, whatever,” says Luna. “We can decide when we need to. So are we going to the Principalities, then? Then I’ll need a new dress.”

Ignoring her, Gareth states, “Well, here is the proposed plan: One – We notify all necessary parties of the news. Two – We acquire items to take on a lich and a dracolich – maybe getting the help of Cedric. Three – Destroy said lich and dracolich. And four – try to find this daelkyr lord, destroy it and the seed.” Looking around at the group, he asks, “Does anyone disagree or have a different suggestion?”

“I suggest we not go running around telling everyone until…,” begins Six, but is interrupted by a knock on the door. He opens it to reveal Fett’s curious face. “Flim Turen, that reporter from the Korranberg Chronicle, has showed up. Said he heard about the trouble last night. Of course, I’m guessing all of Upper Tavick’s has.”

Gareth says, “I’ll cover this. Luna, please make sure that Nameless is completely restored and back to full health. He may require some extra special care and treatment that you can provide, so please give him your undivided attention.” _And stay in here._ 

He walks up the stairs to find Flim waiting in the sitting room. “Hello, Flim. How are you? Have a seat. You have questions, I am sure.”

“Hello,” says Flim. “I heard – and saw, considering the state of your door – that you had some trouble last night. Care to tell me about it?”

“Sure. Where to begin...?” After a little thought, Gareth embarks on a quick coverage of what happened. When he gets to the battle, he says, “Nameless was killed in the battle. Can we go off-the-record?”

Flim’s eyes get big at the news and he starts scribbling furiously, before stopping at the question. “Umm, sure – but you can’t expect me to not mention that he was killed. I’m sorry about it, but that’s big news. But can you guys try to bring him back? And what’s the off the record thing?”

Looking Flim squarely in the face, Gareth shakes his head. “Before I go on, off the record means off the record. If there is information you think you have to print, then I will not go further, and our relationship will have to end.”

Flim grins. “Relationship will have to end? What are you getting so serious about? Remember, you guys also get some serious cachet out of how much coverage the Chronicle gives you. And it’s a newspaper. An attack in the middle of the night in Upper Tavick’s will get covered, whether it’s you guys or anyone else, and if I don’t cover it someone else will. And he’ll get a good deal of info even if you don't talk to him. So you’re much better off talking to me and having me keep as much as I can out of the paper. Remember, I’ve done that before for you. In short, the attack will be covered, whether you want it to be or not. But some of the details I can leave out. Is that fair enough?”

“The topic at hand is extremely serious, Flim, and I was not saying the first part of the conversation should remain off-the-record.  If I wanted that off the record I would not have mentioned anything. It is the next part – after Nameless died, that needs to remain totally off the record. Let me know if you can agree to that before I tell you more.”

“Sure. That should be possible.”

After thinking for a moment, Gareth says, “I hate to be a lawyer about this. But I need a definitive answer. Will you keep what I am about to say off the record, or will you not?”

Flim rolls his eyes. “Hating it sure isn’t stopping you. And yes, I’ll keep what you tell me now off the record. Sheesh!”

Ignoring Flim’s eye rolling, Gareth explains, “Nameless is not dead.  As far as the world is concerned, he needs to remain dead.  I am telling you this because I want to keep an honest relationship with you. Emrena wanted revenge against Nameless, and we need to kill her.  She will try again if she thinks Nameless is alive – so the world has to think he is dead.”

“Huh? So you just lied to me about him having died?”

Gareth raises an eyebrow. “No. Nameless did die. He is not dead now.”

“Oh, okay. So you raised him? Or reincarnated, I guess, with Korm and Luna around?” Flim scratches his nose in thought. “Yeah, I could leave that out and say you informed me that Nameless was slain in the attack. When he shows up again eventually, you can always say you raised him then, or whatever you want. So was that what you didn’t want mentioned? Or is there something else?”

“That’s it. Simply do not mention he is alive.”

“Okay, I won’t mention it. So what are you guys planning to do next? Go after this Emrena?”

“Off the record, she’s dead meat. On the record, we have a job to do for a group that wishes to remain anonymous.”

“All right.” Flim makes a note and then says, “If that’s all, I'll be off then. Best of luck.”

As he is about to depart, Gareth thinks of something. “Ah, actually, one more thing – I need to make a call to all good clerics and paladins for service. Would you be able to do that for me?”

“Umm ... what? You want to hire a bunch of people? Sure, we can handle that. Normally we’d charge for advertising, but for you guys, it’s free.”

“Hmm – not quite hiring them, no. More like giving them an opportunity to grow. We have many tasks on our plate, things that we do not have time to handle due to larger issues. We are trying to recruit groups and provide them with these jobs.  I am looking to ensure these groups have the best possible influence, hence a call to all good clerics and paladins. We will be sending these younger groups on missions we do not have the time to handle, but are still important.”

Flim chuckles. “If you're talking adventurers, you’d better tell them you’re hiring. But at least you’ve got a decent rep. That should help. You might want to check at the Clifftop Adventuring Guild too. After all, you’re technically members there still, last I checked. Anyway, what do you want to put in the advertisement?”

“Just something basic like ‘Calling qualified adventurers of good moral character to perform tasks for the Guardian Angels.’  The difference between us and the adventuring guilds is that we are not charging fees, expecting cuts, etc. We may require the adventurers to turn over a certain item if it has some special significance to a greater quest – but we would not be asking adventurers to give us their treasure. We just need qualified people to do things we do not have time to.”

“No,” Flim clarifies, “What I meant was talking to the Adventurers Guild to see if people there were interested in doing some of this work that you want. At least the Clifftop folk are pretty reliable, unlike the Deathsgate Guild. And for the advertisement, you should add something about where they should contact you. You can’t use this house, since most adventurer-types won’t be allowed into this area. The Deneith guards will stop them well before they get anywhere close.”

“Ahh, that’s a good point.” Gareth smiles. “Well, as a first test, they will have to figure out how to get us word they are interested.  If an adventurer can’t manage to get a message to us then I really don’t want them working for us.”

“Okay. I’ll just mention Sharn as the location and leave it at that. We should be able to get it in the next edition. Is there anything else?” 

“No, thank you. Have a good day.”

After Flim leaves, Gareth heads downstairs to rejoin the others. “Okay, Nameless – the easy part was done. The world thinks you’re dead. Now it’s up to you to stay that way.” He looks around. “So what’s next on the agenda?”

“Well, Gurr’khan’s waiting for us,” reminds Luna. “He wasn’t happy to hear you’d be late.” She grins. “He’s _really_ not going to be happy now!”

“Yes, we need to speak to him,” says Gareth. “And I need to talk to Lalia. And Cedric, to try to recruit him if he’s free. And I’ve got to put out a _sending_ to my family to warn them. And then I’m going to the Archierophant to let her know we’ll be speaking with the Keeper of the Flame, and why.”

Korm sighs. “Maybe we should hold off on the running around and screaming about the end of the world…”

“And not warn anyone?” says Gareth. “That doesn’t make sense...”

“Yes, but we should do a little more checking,” puts in Nameless, “Before…”

“Wait – so am I going to see Ryger again or not?” asks Luna. “And when?”

Six looks around silently, as his companions begin to talk and argue at once. After a few seconds, he turns and heads for the door. As he steps out, Korm notices and asks, “Hey, Six – where are you going?”

“Down to the Cogs with our guards, to turn over the dead warforged to Six.”

“Aren’t you going to come with us?”

“No, I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’ll meet up with you afterwards.” _And I’ll be the saner for it._

* * *

Six departs with Block and 142, the two remaining guards. His company makes transportation of the two warforged corpses easier, since he puts them in the _portable hole_, so that they do not need to obtain aid and carry them openly. With his presence, it is easy to leave Upper Tavick’s Landing through one of the checkpoints that House Deneith maintains at all entrances and exits to the ward, though whispers from some of the guards about the previous night’s events follow them. Once the three warforged have descended to Middle Tavick’s, Six disguises himself to resemble another warforged. His two companions do not comment on the change, stolidly plodding their way towards the lower levels of Sharn.

The trio descend until among the lower wards and then pass down into the Cogs, quickly blending in with the other warforged, whose numbers are highest here below the ground. Block leads the way to the Pool of Onatar’s Tears. Passing the magical pool of cool, crystal-blue water that sits untouched within a larger pool of blazing lava, they head for the small building near the pool and the forge built next to it. When Block knocks, the door is quickly opened by a warforged wearing a toolbelt and a leather apron, whom Six recognizes as Smith. “Ah, Block,” says the priest of Onatar, “I have not seen you in a long time. Come in. How can I help you? And who is this?”

Six drops his disguise after entering the building, surprising Smith. And even more so when he extracts the two warforged corpses from the extradimensional space. “Block said you would dispose of their bodies,” he says. “I’m here to observe the proceedings, if you don’t mind.” 

“Certainly,” says Smith, “But first, what happened to them?” There is a deep sorrow in his metallic voice, as he indicates the dead warforged.

Six explains what happened, leaving out any mention of Nameless’ death or of the Xoriat-seed. Smith listens intently, only saying, “I see,” at the end of the narration. Then he leads Six and the two other warforged through the building, until they reach a small door at the rear. Passing through it, the four emerge into an area that cannot be seen from the outside of the building. Apparently the structure was built so that its rear blocked off a large indentation in the wall of the surrounding cavern, and that is where they now stand. 

This area has been cleared of rubble and the ground is dotted with small mounds. Next to each mound rests an object, usually a weapon or a tool. “This is our ‘graveyard,’” Smith says. With the aid of Six and the others, he inters the two corpses in shallow graves, but not before scraping a certain amount of metal off their heads. “That will be melted down and used in the filigree work that some at the Red Hammer Inn do,” he explains, “So that their matter becomes part of those who remain.” After burying the dead, Smith puts a small mound above each and rests one of their weapons beside each mound.

When he leads the others back into the building, Six says, “If you have the time, I have some questions.”

“Yes,” says Smith. “What do you want to know?”

“Firstly, Smith – in your activities, have you noticed any strange things. People having visions or weird encounters?”

Though Smith’s metal face cannot show surprise or confusion, his posture implies the emotions. “I’m not sure what you mean. What did you have in mind?”

Six shrugs mechanically. “I’m not sure myself. We’ve had a few strange encounters and I was wondering if you had noticed anything weird recently.”

“Not really,” says Smith. “But if I notice anything I will let you know. Was there anything else?”

“Yes. Do you know anyone with docents? I am interested if any docents discovered have information about warforged history. And also if docents can teach the wielder or learn more skills. I know that no one has been able to create them, and I am looking for some way for this to be done.” _And to find a way to build warforged, but I’m not quite ready to share yet._

Smith’s tone says he is trying to make sense of Six’s questions and not having much luck. “There are only a few warforged in Sharn with docents, usually ones who visited Xen’drik. And none with information about warforged history, that I know of. I also don’t know of any that learn new skills or how one may create them. I have heard rumors that House Cannith has schema, also from Xen’drik, which allow creation of docents, but thus far they are only rumors.”

“I have another question. In your circle, do you know what may have happened to the Lord of Blades? The rumor, that he had a creation forge, is unlikely. But stranger things happen.” Six thinks of some of the things he has seen and experienced. “And walk about and talk to people.”

Smith clearly decides to just answer questions without asking any right now. “I believe that he was slain by the Blades of Arakhain, as Houses Cannith and Deneith reported. There were certainly warforged with unusual additions that had been sent here by the Lord of Blades, who were killing other warforged in the Cogs. The Blades of Arakhain slew them, but whether they were built by him or not I cannot say. The Blades, at least, were quite certain that he had a functional forge.”

_Interesting!_ “Are there any remains of the attacking warforged the Lord of Blades sent?”

“A number were slain by the Blades and the remainder by forces from the Cannith Forgehold. After the battles, House Cannith took away the bodies for study. I believe Tarya d’Cannith was the one in charge of the matter. The Blades said they were unusually powerful, which must be true since some of the Blades were captured by them during the fight, and they were generally considered the most powerful adventurers in Sharn before you and your companions arrived. Only a second attack by those who escaped, aided by the captured Blades, forced them to flee, and the Cannith forces killed the survivors. I believe they took the bodies back to the Forgehold for study.”

_Damn! That means I’m not getting to see them_, thinks Six, remembering what he has been told of the Forgehold, which is located in the Cogs and generally considered the primary Cannith building, even more important than the central enclave in Dragon Towers. It is where they store their most valuable items, where the primary discoveries and inventions are made, and is generally regarded as the most secure building (or series of buildings) in Sharn. _And interesting coincidence. Tarya was in charge of the meeting I had at the Cannith enclave._

While Six is considering the information, Smith continues, “I did see – and bury – the body of one that the Blades had encountered months earlier. At the time they did not know he had been sent by the Lord of Blades. Unfortunately, after killing him they removed his hands and head. Adventurers, even the well-meaning ones, can be overly hasty and cruel sometimes.” There’s a little disapproval in Smith’s voice. “They cast the body into the tunnels leading to the Cogs and it was later recovered and brought to me. They told me later that the head had fang-like teeth and the hands had metal claws at the ends of the fingers. There was also a tube attached to one arm which emitted a fiery blast. I believe the Blades gave the head, the hands and tube to House Cannith for study and in exchange for some equipment.” 

_Wait – what?!_ From the description of the warforged which the Blades cast into the Cogs, Six realizes it was the headless and handless warforged corpse which landed next to him and the other Angels during their first trip into the Cogs. All of 7 months ago*. Though he has no spine, Six feels what would be the equivalent of a crawling up it. _That’s really a bit much of a coincidence! I wonder if something is manipulating us, like the rakshasa did._

“Thank you,” Six says slowly. “That is very helpful. I am also looking for any reforged that may be in Sharn. You know, the warforged who try to emulate humans and lose their nature as constructs.”

“Yes, I know of them,” says Smith, mild distaste in his tone. “There are only a few, very few, in Sharn. Maybe two or three.”

“I would like to speak to one. I wish to know if dragonmarks have ever appeared on any of them.”

“Huh?” Smith’s confusion is palpable. “Warforged cannot develop dragonmarks. I thought you knew that.”

“I know that’s supposed to be the case,” says Six. “I was curious to know if there were any exceptions.”

“Not that I know of. And it’s very unlikely that I wouldn’t know if it happened. I’m quite sure it is impossible.”

“Thank you,” says Six. “That will be all.” He takes his leave and heads out the door, disguising himself again before doing so. As he proceeds back to the towers of Sharn, he wonders what the others have been doing in his absence. 

And exactly what he will have to do to find a way to build new warforged, as he has been considering for months now.

* * *

Gurr’khan sits cross-legged, elbows resting on his knees, fingers interlaced and head in his hands. He rocks back and forth slightly, muttering a stream of orcish phrases. His tone is soft, but venomous. It doesn’t take any knowledge of the language to work out that he is swearing. 

Luna looks at him, at the others, and back to Gurr’khan. Then she says, sounding half concerned and half amused, “Guys – I think we broke him!”


* And 65 sessions ago, or 2 years in real time. The plot hook does not sleep, he waits!


----------



## Rackhir

For those of you interested the Horror (Nameless's new buddy), is up in the Rogues Gallery Thread

http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=182305&goto=newpost


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:
			
		

> For those of you interested the Horror (Nameless's new buddy), is up in the Rogues Gallery Thread
> 
> http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=182305&goto=newpost




He has more HP then Gareth.... A familiar with more HP then Gareth. Something is wrong with that.

And dammit, Gareth should have used Dismissal on it (one of his domain abilities).


----------



## Rackhir

AviLazar said:
			
		

> He has more HP then Gareth.... A familiar with more HP then Gareth. Something is wrong with that.
> 
> And dammit, Gareth should have used Dismissal on it (one of his domain abilities).




He's not a familiar, he's a special summons. The idea for the summons was based off of the "Summon Inevitable" and "Summon Dragon Ally" spells. Since summoning is Nameless's shtick, it made sense to give him the ability to summon something out of the ordinary. Its worth noting that it is only somewhat more powerful than the Greater Elementals that Druids can summon with a SNA VII.

I've also updated Nameless for Lv.14 at the top of the Rogues Gallery Thread the Horror is in.


----------



## shilsen

Looks like the forum won't let me post the entire update in one. So here it is in two segments:

* * * * * * * * * *

Finally, Gurr’khan lifts his head from his hands, takes a deep breath, and says, “All right. Is there anything else I should know? Maybe there’s some other good news you forgot?” Clearly, the elderly druid is trying to be sarcastic, but just as obviously, he’s too perturbed to really concentrate on it. Luna begins to giggle at the tone and then cuts it off at a glare from Gurr’khan, pretending to be busy looking at her nails.

“Actually,” says Nameless slowly, “There is one more thing. I need to tell you,” he glances at his companions, “All of you, why the seed is probably in the Mournland.”

The other Angels look at his curiously. Gareth frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“Cyäegha told me why the seed has probably implanted itself there. It was linked to me, and its chosen location is the place where I gained my powers and became what – who – I am.”

“All right,” says Gareth, still frowning, “But what’s new about that? We know you walked out of the Mournland with strange abilities and your memory missing. And I thought you didn’t know what happened there.”

“I didn’t. But now I do. And I have for some time.”

“What?! Why didn’t y…”

Exasperated, Nameless snaps, “If you shut up, I can explain!” Gareth opens his mouth to snap back, but is quickly shushed by a comment of, “Yeah, Gareth – shut it! I want to hear this,” from Korm, followed by Luna’s, “Me too. So don’t make me sit on you – again!” The paladin subsides unwillingly.

Nameless takes a deep breath and begins, “This is what happened….” As he continues, those around him listen raptly. Even Edgar climbs out of the pouch where he normally resides and squats on the alienist’s thigh, spidery legs curled under him and rocky carapace slightly angled, as if tilted to hear better.

Over the next half an hour, the alienist relates everything about his past that he has not told the others, beginning with his capture by cultists of the Dragon Below while serving in the Cyran military. He describes the sacrifice that he and his compatriots had been part of, tied to a dimensional seal and drained by a crystal Key one cultist wielded, similar to the one the Angels had found on the island and which now rests inside a volcano in the Demon Wastes, and the ensuing explosion. He talks about the feeling of having a daelkyr lord – Antaratma, the Nameless One – enter his mind through the weakened seal, and the explosion as the Key exploded, killing all in the chamber but him. He describes, though words fail him here, the snapping shut of the seal and the wrenching as the contact was broken. He shares his opinions about the imprint on his psyche the contact with Antaratma left in his mind, how he thinks that it is akin to a footprint left behind in a soft surface, warping the area around it, and how it is the source of his detection as an aberration, his instinctive ability to activate the Key, his interest in (and affinity towards) Xoriat, and in all likelihood his spellcasting abilities. He describes how he stumbled his way from the cave, seeing what would later be called the Dead-Gray Mists pouring from it, and made his way out across the Mournland. And finally, he explains how he eventually came to regain his memory, first through flashes and glimpses of his past, finally and fully through the not so tender ministrations of the mind flayer Naxaliyen in the halls of Yarkuun Draal.

Nameless finally comes to the end of his narration and falls silent, looking around at those around him and the varied expressions they wear. Though the alienist is no longer subject to quite the same emotions as most of humanity, he feels a slight trepidation about how they will view him now. 

Not so surprisingly, it transpires that nothing has really changed. Gareth is the first to speak, his face darker and frown deeper than before. “So _you_ are the one who created the Mournland?”

Nameless actually feels mild relief at the predictability of the paladin even as he replies dryly, “Don’t you ever listen? I had no choice in the matter, and I’ve been doing all I can to prevent the information from getting out. If the situation was any less dire, I would never have mentioned this at all. Speaking of which,” he pauses to look around the group, “If any of you ever disclose this information to anyone, I will drag you off to Xoriat myself. Gareth, this includes the Archierophant. And Lalia. And _everyone_ else. Are we clear?”

There is not the faintest humor or lack of certainty in Nameless’ gaze, and the others all nod. After a few moments of silence, Korm asks, “So that guy who said he recognized you was right? You are the person he said you are?”

“No,” says the alienist firmly. “I was. But now I am Nameless. Just as you are no longer the child your mother gave birth to. Things change. And for me, there is no going back.” _Not if I can do anything about it._

“So why didn’t you tell us?” persists Gareth.

Nameless sighs. “Can you give me one good reason why increasing the number of people who know how the Mournland was created would be a good thing? You know exactly how many people would absolutely love to get their hands on that information, and not for academic interest.”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Luna, more interested in something else. “This daelkyr is inside your head?”

“No. It’s difficult to explain, but an imprint or a wound is the closest I can get. His contact with me has left an impression, with some tiny elements of the daelkyr, but it is not the daelkyr itself.”

“Okay. But maybe I can cure this wound. Let me try.” Luna lifts a hand, but before she can begin casting, Nameless’ tentacle lashes out and around her wrist. “NO!” says the alienist firmly. “I don’t know if it can be healed and if it can, I do NOT want it to be.”

“Huh? Why not?”

Six, who has been sitting and listening silently thus far, is the one who answers. “Because doing so might cause Nameless to lose the things that make him what he is, that make him different and special.”

“What? That makes no sense,” says Gareth. “If I had some crazy aberration’s wound in my head, I’d want it out of me whatever…”

“Really?” says Six, his voice turning more metallic, the warforged’s equivalent of using a drier tone. He concentrates and the tendrils of shadow appear around him from his harness, shrouding him in an armor of darkness. “You don’t at all understand the concept of appreciating something that gives you power, even if it is strange or aberrant or not what is acceptable for your species?” Six’s glowing eyes, the only original part of him clearly visible through the shadowy armor, gaze pointedly at Gareth’s metal hand, and then flicker to Luna and Korm.

Nameless laughs, as Gareth grumbles, “It’s not exactly the same thing,” and subsides. “Well put, Six,” the alienist says before turning to look at Luna and Korm too. “As I said, I do not want to be ‘cured.’ I’m not sure, but I think a _heal_ might reverse the effect. So please don’t use that spell on me. Ever!”

“Aah!” says Luna, enlightenment dawning, “So that’s why you didn’t want me to use it during the battle in Q’barra.”

Nameless nods, and then Korm says, “Actually, I used a _heal_ on you to revive you when your buddy from Xoriat was getting personal with Gareth. You’re still able to use your spells, right? So maybe it isn’t a problem. On the other hand, I did feel a little resistance before it took effect.”

Nameless frowns at the news. “Yes, my spells and abilities are still intact. But since I don’t know for sure what could happen, let’s hold off on using that spell on me for now.”

“Okay,” says Korm. Then he asks, “So is this a, um, spiritual or mental ‘wound’ rather than a physical one?” The alienist considers the question and then shakes his head. “Truly, I don’t know. Why?”

“Well,” says Korm, beginning to grin, “As Six said, we’re all pretty changed from what we were, right? And that gives us many options that we don’t have. So I was thinking about checking it, without actually using magic. After all, if it’s not physical, we can probably _heal_ you when you need it to save your life in battle, and not worry about turning you into Edgar Thorn.”

“What did you have in …oh!” Nameless stops as he realizes what the Gatekeeper meant.

“Exactly!” Korm chortles at Nameless’ expression and then focuses. His gray skin darkens slightly and the lower part of his mouth lengthens, the mouth moving downwards and sliding under his chin, from which tentacles begin to sprout. Above them, his eyes change, the nose flattens and sinks until only small holes are left, and, a few seconds later, Korm’s face is a rough facsimile for an illithid’s. “You did say a mind flayer found out your memories for you, so…”

“Okay,” says Luna, a disgusted look on her face. “That’s just wrong.”

“Says the woman with two symbionts inside her!” scoffs Korm, his voice slightly muffled by his mouth’s new position and the tentacles hanging over it.

“They’re not real aberrations!” protests Luna. “And they’re cute!” She turns and looks at Gurr’khan, who has sat wordlessly through Nameless’ story and the byplay between the Angels afterwards. “Don’t you think this is wrong?”

The old orc, who had lowered his head, raises it and looks at Luna. His face is grayer than it normally is, lined with wrinkles which somehow seem deeper than they did a few minutes ago, and he looks terribly old. Luna suddenly feels sorry for him, seeing a combination of tiredness, fear and despair in his face. “This is beyond me,” he says quietly. “Do what you will. Once you are done, we can make some plans, for what it’s worth.”

Nameless, who has been carefully considering Korm’s suggestion, says, “All right. But be careful. Luna, you should probably stay close with a healing spell in case this damages me.”

“This should be instructive,” says Korm and walks over to Nameless. The alienist rises and the taller orc bends slightly. Two of his tentacles grasp either side of Nameless’ head and the other two snake their way into and up his nostrils. Nameless shudders involuntarily at the sensation as his nasal orifices are painfully distended. “Don’t move,” grumbles Korm, “You don’t want me to slip. Maybe I should knock you out first.”

“No,” mumbles Nameless, his words muffled by the situation, “Just get on with it. Luna – I need that healing now.”

Luna complies, channeling healing energy into Nameless as Korm’s tentacles snake over the surface of his brain, probing and feeling, trying to do as little damage as possible. Even so, there is significant pain for the alienist. Nevertheless, he holds himself as still as he can while the Gatekeeper burrows around in his head. 

Then Korm says, “This is funny.” Nameless grits through clenched teeth, “I’m not laughing.” Korm begins to shake his head and then stops hastily, before continuing, “Not amusing funny. Strange funny. When I put my tentacles here, I can read your surface thoughts. Think of something.” Then he adds, “Hey – that’s rude!”

“I’ll be ruder if you don’t get on with it,” says Nameless.

“Fine, fine! Spoilsport,” Korm says, before continuing. After a few seconds, he grimaces and then retracts his tentacles with a nauseatingly glutinous sound. Nameless sways as he does so, and Luna quickly catches him. Korm nods. “There’s definitely something there which shouldn’t be. Physically, I mean. Near the back of your brain, just above where the spine meets your skull. I’m not sure what it is and I definitely don’t know what one could do about it – if you wanted something done, I mean.”

While Luna casts another healing spell on Nameless for good measure, Gareth turns to Gurr’khan. “All right. What would you have us do?”

“As I said, this is beyond me. I cannot give you appropriate counsel. You should talk to Saala, as I had planned for you to do.” He adds darkly, “Though not with this kind of news.”

* * *
Some two hours later, the Angels and Gurr’khan are a thousand miles from Sharn, sitting across from Saala Torrn. The leader of the Gatekeepers looks as she did when they first met her three months ago, having used her druidic abilities to appear as an elderly half-orc female even though Luna had _reincarnate_d her as a young human.

After having heard the group’s tale and pondered it for a while, she says, “As you’re already aware, this is much darker news than we’ve heard in, well, as far back as I have been among the Gatekeepers. And if Xoriat is truly to return, then such news has not been heard in millennia. But I would like to be certain this is the case. As your experiences with the rakshasas showed, all is not necessarily what it seems.” Her eyes flicker to Nameless for a moment, but she expresses no verbal doubt of what he has said of his condition only a few minutes earlier.

“However,” she continues, “I will not waste time either. I shall spread the word among the Gatekeepers, or at least some of them. Knowing of this situation unless we’re certain will not help most of them, since they cannot do anything about it. What do you plan to do?”

“Enter the Mournland and try to stop the seed from coming to fruit, which will probably involve killing this daelkyr,” says Nameless simply.

“You will battle a daelkyr lord yourselves?” Saala’s tone would have been appropriate if she had been asking if they were planning to transport Sharn to the Shadow Marches.

Nameless smiles thinly. “Do we have a choice?”

Saala nods and says, “All right. I shall aid you in any way I can. Before you enter the Mournland, however, I have a suggestion.”

“Certainly.”

“Let us examine the dimensional seals and see if there is any change to them. Xoriat cannot return to our world as long as the seals are intact – this much we know. So if it is to return, the seals will have to be destroyed. I hope we will be able to detect something before it occurs, assuming it will. Besides the seals that we guard, we also know of other places which have links to Xoriat. Usually, groups of aberrations are drawn to and dwell in such areas, which is why we do not venture there. It may be worthwhile for you to examine such a location and see if any manifestation of Xoriat or indication of impending proximity is present. I will try to think of an appropriate place and use my sources to gain what information I can before asking you to do so.” She rises. “You will return to Sharn now, I presume?”

“Yes, we have some things to do there.”

“Very well. Please contact me via a _sending_ daily, so that I can tell you what I have learned.”

“All right.”


----------



## shilsen

When the Angels talk to the next powerful female leader, the response is much less cordial. Ythana Morr looks stonily across her desk at the group and says, her tone flat and uninflected, “So this ‘seed’ is now planted and Xoriat will return? Do you have any proof of this?”

“Err … the aura in Nameless’ chest is gone,” replies Gareth. “And he died and revived, which is why it happened.”

“You _think_ he died and revived,” the Archierophant corrects, “But again, you have no proof of that, correct?”

Gareth glances at Six, hoping that the warforged will say something about having checked and confirmed that Nameless was dead after Emrena’s attack, but Six doesn’t make even a flicker of motion. The paladin looks back to Ythana and says, “No. But Nameless was told what had happened by … what’s its name, Nameless?”

“Cyäegha,” says Nameless. Having already voiced his opinion that talking to the Archierophant is futile and more trouble than it’s worth, the alienist adds nothing more, quietly enjoying Gareth’s treatment by Ythana.

Who says, “Yes, I got that. Nameless spoke mentally to some sort of monstrous entity on a plane that nobody else on the planet can reach and was told that Xoriat is coming. That is not exactly proof, as I see it.” 

Gareth sighs. “Archierophant, I would not have come to you about this matter if I didn’t fully believe that it was true and incredibly urgent. Even if our tale is unlikely, you must see that if it is true, the result of this happening would be catastrophic. The lives of all of Khorvaire would be at risk. I believe that the Church is the only organization on Khorvaire with the resources and will to stand against such an invasion, and….” 

Korm clears his throat loudly and coughs meaningfully, drawing a dirty look from the paladin, who says, “Yes, I know the Gatekeepers would do what they can, but from what Saala told us, their resources are severely limited and they are randomly scattered across the nations. The Church, on the other hand, is much better organized.” 

“Maybe,” grunts Luna, “But a druid’s worth four priests.” She grins. “And more like twenty in a forest.” 

Gareth’s frown deepens and he opens his mouth, shuts it, and then quickly turns back to Ythana. “Anyway, as I said, would you at least consider the possibility that we are correct? Surely one of your ability will be able to divine if we are telling the truth or not.”

The pleading – and perhaps flattery – has some effect, and Ythana’s face softens slightly as she nods slowly. “Very well. I shall investigate this further, though I cannot promise anything else right now.”

Gareth says, “Thank you. I appreciate it very much. Also, could you let the Keeper of the Flame know that we will be visiting her at some time to speak about this matter?”

“Excuse me?!” Ythana’s face goes back to resembling the hardness of Six’s metal visage. “I am not about to bother the Keeper about this matter unless I’m certain it is important. And correct.”

Gareth opens his mouth to protest, but Nameless interrupts abruptly, “That would be just fine. We won’t be taking any more of your time. Thank you.” 

With that, he rises and quickly heads for the door. Six, Luna and Korm also follow, leaving Gareth staring after them. He looks back at Ythana, who is looking after Nameless with a frown on her face. His experiences with Xoriat have taken a significant toll on his already limited ability to interact with people. Even when he has no intention of being so, there is something mildly offensive about his manner, his eyes and voice somehow combining to give the impression that he is constantly aware of how insignificant and ephemeral the concerns of those he is addressing or studying are. 

Gareth wonders if he should apologize for Nameless’ abrupt departure, but the expression in Ythana’s eyes as she turns to him makes it clear that would be unnecessary – and futile. He rises, bows and follows the others.

* * *

Luckily, all worshippers of the Silver Flame are not the same. As is evidenced some time later in a certain brothel, where the Angels stand – watched by a few curious prostitutes and customers – while a significantly rumpled looking Cedric walks down the stairs to meet them. “Dammit, Gareth,” he growls, pushing back his hair, “I was busy! I just got back from the crypts up north.”

“Yes,” says Gareth, “Mazin told us you were back and would be here. It’s urgent and we couldn’t wait.” He grins. _Talking to him is a lot easier than to Ythana._ “And I figured you’d be busy for a while.”

“That was the plan,” grumbles Cedric, leading them into a room. “Still, it’s nice to see you guys. So, what’s been happening with you?” He drops into a chair and turns to face the Angels, an expectant grin on his face. The reason is quickly revealed, just above the smile. Both of his eyes are an unvariegated jet-black, with no white showing at all.

“What the hell happened to you?” asks Luna.

“A boon. Or curse, depending on perspective. Gaia, a friend of mine up in the crypts, was having trouble with a lich and …”

“A lich? Did she wear a red dress?” 

Cedric quirks an eyebrow at Gareth’s tone. “No, _he_ was not a cross-dresser. Why?”

“We’ve had trouble with one called Emrena the Red, who likes red dresses.”

“Well, old Gath does the ancient armor route, actually. Gaia and he tend to keep feuding, but I don’t think he’s serious about it, since he could have killed her easily if he wanted. But he was acting strangely recently, she said, so I went up to take a look. Turned out he’d been affected by a cursed item, which I helped him get rid of. Doing so got me these,” he gestures at the eyes, “And a few permanent magical enhancements.”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “I’d noticed that you were glowing a bit more than usual. And not just in the holier-than-thou way.”

Cedric laughs. “I’d have asked you guys to come along and help, but you were outside Sharn when I left. Though something gives me a feeling you bunch would have gone in with _flame strike_ blazing and things could have gone very differently.”

“So this lich isn’t evil?” asks Gareth, puzzled at Cedric’s comment about helping him.

“No, Gath’s evil all right. But he’s not doing anyone any harm, and Gaia’s and his lives would be quite boring without each other, so I didn’t do anything to him. I did tell him that if he hurt her I’d kill him, but I doubt he will. Anyway, I’ll have to go up there and talk with him again sometime. He’s a fairly good conversationalist, and I think there’s a chance I could talk a little more good sense into him.”

“So you talked to an evil lich about being good? And want to see if you can do more of that?” asks Six, curiously.

“Yes,” says Cedric simply, his tone indicating that it makes perfect sense.

Six turns to Gareth. “Why don’t _you_ ever think of something like that.”

Cedric laughs at the comment and says, “All right. What’s the urgent thing you needed to see me about?”

The Angels proceed to explain what happened with Emrena, Nameless’ death, and everything else that followed. Cedric listens intently, asking a number of questions. Finally, when they’re done, he sighs, “And this is why my life is easier when I’m not around you bozos! Fine – how can I help?”

“That’s it?” says Gareth, a trifle surprised. “You believe us?”

“Oh, I’m not sure you’re right, but I believe that _you_ believe you are. And something’s definitely different with Nameless. That’s good enough for me. I’ll help as I can, and if you turn out to be wrong, there’s no harm done other than that you’ve probably made a lot of people paranoid and they’ll be pissed off at you. If you’re right … well, I’m no scholar, but from Nameless says, we’re probably all f*cked.” He sighs again. “Which reminds me – I really wish I was upstairs after this news.” Cedric shrugs. “So, how can I help?”

“Well,” says Nameless, “The first thing we need to do is take out Emrena the Red, so that she can’t bother us any more. And then we may be going to the Mournland. Frankly, I’m not sure if you’re up to dealing with the things we face regularly, since they take us to the brink of death many times and we only survive because of the things Mordain has done for us.”

“Yeah,” says Korm meditatively, “I miss Mordain. He was such a nice guy.”

“Yes, he was. But, as I was saying, it may be better for you to remain in Sharn and help protect the people in case trouble occurs. I’m sure before Xoriat actually becomes coterminous with Eberron, there’ll be all sorts of things heralding its advent, and we may not be here to help the city.”

Cedric nods. “That’s all fine. If you do ever want me along for something, that’s fine by me too, since I have actually made a life out of having the crap kicked out of me and getting back up. So the offer is always open.”

* * *

A couple of hours later, the Angels gather in the Gray House to discuss what they have done thus far. “All right,” says Nameless, “We’ve currently told the Gatekeepers, Cedric, Trillia and the Archierophant what is going to occur.”

“And Lalia,” reminds Gareth.

“Yes. I think that’s more than enough for the time being, so let’s not share this with anyone else until we know for sure what is going to occur and when. And hopefully can do something about it. Agreed?”

The others do so, and the alienist says, “Good. Now let’s go get some rest. Tomorrow, we go lich-hunting. I’m going to enjoy this!”

* * * * * * * * * *
The next morning, the Angels gather in Nameless’ laboratory, where he attempts to _scry_ Emrena. After an hour of concentration, chanting and arcane gestures, the surface of the mirror the alienist is looking into begins to darken. Simultaneously, the tiny bits of Emrena’s flesh and hair that he had gathered from the scene of their last battle dissolve into ashes. 

To his companions, the surface is now opaque and simply filled with cloudy vapor, but to Nameless a scene emerges. He describes it to the others. “Got her! And she hasn’t noticed the sensor. She’s in a bedroom. Fairly sparse, containing a desk, chair, bed, a chest at the end of the bed, a dresser and two doors. She’s at the desk. The room doesn’t show signs of having been occupied, so either she doesn’t use it often or has recently arrived. Hmm – no windows. Maybe it’s underground. She’s sitting at the desk and writing something. Let me see if I can get a good look.”

After a few seconds, Nameless continues, “It seems to be a letter, but I can’t read it. I’m pretty sure it’s in elven. Now she’s stopping, going back and crossing something out … stopping again … and crumpling it up. She just dropped the crumpled paper on the table, picked up another piece of paper, and started writing again.” 

“All right,” says Korm pragmatically, “Very interesting. Any magic in the room? Your _arcane sight_ should work through the sensor.”

“Yes, it does. Let’s see. On her, I get faint auras of necromancy and abjuration, and moderate abjuration. Lots of magical items, of course. There are no other magical auras in the area, but I’m picking up a few faint auras beyond one of the two doors. Hold on. Okay, some of them are moving slightly, so they’re almost certainly on people. Probably guards of some kind.”

“So should we start casting our spells and preparing?”

Nameless thinks for a second, and then says, “Actually, no. If she has something like my spell to _anticipate teleportation_ on her, which apparently she did during the attack on the house, that could cause serious problems for us. Let’s wait for an hour or so, by which time she may have left the room, and then _teleport_ in.”  He pauses, scratching his chin thoughtfully with his tentacle. "Also, I have an idea for screwing with Emrena's head that might let us get in unopposed even if we are affected by the _Anticipate Teleportation_."

The others comply and, precisely an hour later, prepare to depart.


----------



## ajanders

So what happens if Nameless gets to where he can read Emrena writing

"I prepared explosive runes today."

Does that set it off?


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> So what happens if Nameless gets to where he can read Emrena writing
> 
> "I prepared explosive runes today."
> 
> Does that set it off?





Good question. I'd say you have to be standing next to and reading them to trigger the runes. Luckily for them, there were no _explosive runes_ on the letter. Unluckily, however ... well, you'll have to wait and see.


----------



## javcs

shilsen said:
			
		

> Good question. I'd say you have to be standing next to and reading them to trigger the runes. Luckily for them, there were no _explosive runes_ on the letter. Unluckily, however ... well, you'll have to wait and see.





Nameless's scrying attempt was detected.


----------



## Rackhir

javcs said:
			
		

> Nameless's scrying attempt was detected.






			
				Shilsen said:
			
		

> He describes it to the others. “Got her! And she hasn’t noticed the sensor..."




Nope. Thank you for playing, but you'll need to guess again. Let's just say, turn about is fair play and some things are a double edged sword.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Nope. Thank you for playing, but you'll need to guess again. Let's just say, turn about is fair play and some things are a double edged sword.





Yea the stuff that came about was pretty damn intense, and fun play.  The only time I got snippy was because we were taking way too long to get simple things done (pet peeve).

Other then that - it was a wild session.


----------



## Rackhir

Well we just had another near TPK. Fortunately, Shil is busy this week and agreed to spare us if I'd do the write up (well the write-up, plus the seemingly endless horde of monsters we were summoning). So the next installment may not be up to his usual literary standards. But as of result of this, an exciting opportunity in Real Estate has opened up for our heroes.


----------



## ajanders

shilsen said:
			
		

> Good question. I'd say you have to be standing next to and reading them to trigger the runes. Luckily for them, there were no _explosive runes_ on the letter. Unluckily, however ... well, you'll have to wait and see.




Oh dear.
You read about illusory script, didn't you?


----------



## Rackhir

Scenes from the Mind of a Insane Druid -

Luna's player has recently fixated on obtaining a living spell of a Cloudkill as a "Pet" (she is immune to poison after all). When I tried to patiently explain to her that they were mindless things that were uncontrollable, she plaintively cried "But it would LEARN TO LOVE ME!"

Nameless, who's mind was completely unfazed by Xoriat, the Plane of Madness, who has gazed upon the depths of madness, went "TILT" and refused to process any more input after that statement.

The really annoying thing is that I know 5 minutes after she got it, she'd fixate on something else and completely ignore it from that point onwards...


----------



## Zurai

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Scenes from the Mind of a Insane Druid -
> 
> Luna's player has recently fixated on obtaining a living spell of a Cloudkill as a "Pet" (she is immune to poison after all). When I tried to patiently explain to her that they were mindless things that were uncontrollable, she plaintively cried "But it would LEARN TO LOVE ME!"




You should mention that there are spells to imbue intelligence into mindless beings... _awaken_, _awaken construct_, _awaken undead_... no _awaken ooze_, though... *yet*.

That should keep her busy for a while.


----------



## Furby076

Zurai said:
			
		

> You should mention that there are spells to imbue intelligence into mindless beings... _awaken_, _awaken construct_, _awaken undead_... no _awaken ooze_, though... *yet*.
> 
> That should keep her busy for a while.




Those spells are banned from our game due to their power.

As for Luna's pet idea -another problem was that if we did allow her to keep they pet we all said it would turn out that we would have to feed it, walk it, and clean-up after it.


----------



## Rackhir

Scenes from the Mind of an Insane Druid - Pt.2

Luna has a tendency to fixate on the latest shiny object that catches her attention. Most recently this was a flying carpet. I was trying to dissuade her from this since a Airship was 100k gold and a 10'x10' carpet (not big enough to carry the entire group) was 60k gold. Logic proved futile as normal (the carpet was smaller, slower, more vulnerable, more exposed, etc...). Finally I said

10'x10' carpet, Weight capacity - 800 lb
Average Dire bear 12' long and 8,000 lb! Luna is significantly larger than an AVERAGE Bear! Do the MATH!

Luna's reply "Oh."

Shilsen replied "I think you beat an overwhelming encounter on your own."

We should have the next update to you shortly. Shil is looking it over now (inbetween grading a horrific number of papers).


----------



## Rackhir

And here is the update at last.

*******************************************************************
Once we reconvened, I outlined my ingenious plan. “If we just teleport in as a group, there will be no question who it is. An _Anticipate Teleportation_, whether the _greater_ variety or not, will tell her what types of creatures are coming in and there simply aren’t that many teleporting groups of five people, with an orc, shifter, human and warforged. Our chance lies in the fact that, even if she suspects I am alive, it’s unlikely she knows that I detect as an aberration to all magic. So, if just Gareth and I go in, with him looking like her lover and myself appearing as a Mind Flayer, it may confuse her long enough for us to act. Even if it doesn’t confuse her, it should be worth it for the look on her face, when she sees us.”

I spoke mostly metaphorically, liches being low on facial expression. Perhaps that confused the others so that there were, surprisingly, no objections.

“Yes, Edgar. I know that, but it will have to wait until tomorrow night.”

Reality bent to my will once again and the omnipresent chorus of whippoorwills crescendoed and cut off suddenly as Gareth and I appeared in the room I had scryed earlier. A quick look at the prepared position Emrena and her minions had assumed out in the hall showed that luck was still failing to smile on me. I shall eventually have to teach her to remedy that error. But back to Emrena. The bafflement her posture bespoke at what appeared, while gratifying, didn't prevent her from attempting to hit us with a _slashing dispel_. A quick word of power to activate a ring and I crushed her spell in mid-cast. Useful as the ring was, it didn’t help with the _bead_s _of force_ the guardsmen threw at us, but the bursts of force were easy enough to avoid even in this prison of flesh. Then the doors were slammed in our face. “The courtesy of your home leaves something to be desired, Emrena,” I muttered, as Gareth dumped out the _portable hole_ and the rest of our band sprang out.

While he did that, my staff rang upon the stones of the room and I called in the tartly throat twisting syllables of Daelkyr. “Kha’tvan’ga! Fulfill our pact and attend me!” Obedient to my command, the creature manifested, its sleekly beautiful form contrasting with the crude shapes of my companions, and hovered silently. I instructed, “Smash the door and kill anyone out there!” Moments later the door was in splinters and the horrified guards were fleeing in terror. For all the good it would do them. 

Emrena was either made of sterner stuff or incapable of comprehending what Kha’tvan’ga is and so unfazed by it, but also unwilling to face all of us on her own. She _dimension door_ed away, saying “Follow me if you dare!”

“I don’t know. I rather liked the cheese we had with lunch, Edgar.”

I commanded the Horror to slay the guards and bring me one, confident it would hunt them down relentlessly. Meanwhile, my comrades ransacked the room for clues and despoiled her wardrobe in ways ... unmentionable. Lime green polka-dots? No, let us not go there. 

The crumpled letter I had seen her writing earlier proved to be somewhat enlightening. In elven, with some parts cut out and others rewritten, it said:

 “My queen, I know you do not wish me to engage the Guardian Angels again, but I believe their removal is necessary for the Emerald Claw to re-establish a presence in Breland. And especially in Sharn, where their presence makes it impossible to take advantage of sympathetic worshippers of the Blood. I hope you will forgive my presumption, but I flatter myself that my success will justify the disobedience. I have begun to move some skilled members of the Claw to Sharn. More importantly, two nights ago, I made an attack on the Guardian Angels and slew their mage, Nameless. I expect that the remainder will locate and attack me here, and I am prepared for th…”

_Well, well. Yes, I’m certain your ‘queen’ will reward you for this success. Especially once we are finished ripping this place down around your ears Emrena._ My musings were interrupted by Korm tapping me (with sufficient force to break the arm of a normal person) on the shoulder.

“Yes, Korm – what is it?”

“Nameless, what does a lich need a privy for?”

A raised eyebrow was the only possible answer to Korm’s question. He showed me that one room led to a privy. Well made, with the kind of plumbing Sharn uses, I noticed.

“So Edgar, the white or the yellow?”

Kha’tvan’ga returned at that point with one of the guards, but his feeble human mind had snapped under the assault of the Horror’s presence and even Gareth’s mind-reading abilities were useless to get any coherent information out of him. Gareth quickly ended his suffering.

Since there was nothing more to learn here, a quick _locate creature_ was able to provide us with a direction, and a bit of triangulation and some trivial calculation showed Emrena hadn’t gone too far. So we followed in the direction the spell indicated she was in, Luna taking on the form of a huge wolf and not a bear, so as to avoid slowing us down as she squeezed through. 

We passed some distance down the hallways with no further incidents, though I noticed there were many holes in the walls, floor and ceiling. Identical to the ones that had been in our house before we sealed them, they were obviously for vampires in gaseous form to pass through.

As we made another turn, we passed another door from behind which chanting came, and the voice of a child crying in terror. Memories of the Emerald Claw temple we had raided in Karrnath were still fresh, as had been the bodies of those who were unwillingly sacrificed to create the Charnel Hound we discovered. So despite the danger of deviating from our goal, nobody suggested otherwise as we turned and smashed in the door to the chamber.

In retrospect, what was going on should have been simple enough to figure out. The three men at the altar, one chanting and one holding down a screaming child, while a third raised a blood-stained dagger, and the watching people seated on benches. But we are so much faster than normal people, that they had no time to react before Gareth had grabbed the child, Six had already killed the man holding the child down, and Korm punched in the head of the knife-wielder. Once the child cried out, “Daddy!” at the dead man who had been holding her and struggled to get away, it was clear.

“Well, Edgar, these things do happen. I have others.”

“Set her down, Gareth,” I commanded. “That was her father we just killed.” Simple, really. The Blood of Vol naturally does place great emphasis on blood as a voluntary sacrifice and symbol of commitment, with worshippers willingly donating some on certain days. The Emerald Claw does place a rather darker stress on things and aren’t so keen on the ‘voluntary’ aspect of things, but they also seem to use the legitimate temples of the Blood of Vol as a cover.

As clearly they were doing here.

Still, they were lucky. I was going to chuck a _cloudkill_ in there.

But we had no time for recriminations. Emrena was still on the loose, and had not moved in the past few minutes. So she had probably found allies, but that changed nothing. It was going to have to be her or us, as we couldn't afford to have her plaguing us, while we tried to track down the location of the seed she had so foolishly unleashed. Perhaps this ‘queen’ would be interested in what her unauthorized vendetta had set loose?

A few more twists of corridors lead to a corner around which three vampires in Emerald Claw armor sprang to the attack. As we smashed each other back and forth, Emrena popped around the next corner and hit us with another _slashing dispel_, which was fortunately mostly ineffective. One of the vampires quickly went down under our assault and Emrena _dimension door_ed away again, apparently unwilling to go toe-to-toe with us. The remaining vampires exchanged blows for a few more seconds and then fled into mist form, leaving us alone in the passageway.

“So, Edgar, you are enjoying the weather in Sharn this time of year.”

This was only a momentary setback, however. _I have your number now, Emrena. You aren’t going to get away that easily._ A little more triangulation, a mental recollection of the corridors we had traversed, and I instantly knew where she was in the temple. Three-dimensional geography is so simple. “Gather round me. This time she won’t get away.” Once they had, I opened a hole in reality and shoved us through, making sure we would appear close behind Emrena. If only those whippoorwills would shut up! Her footsteps were still echoing in the hall as we appeared and glimpsed her turning around another corner, with two more priests in her train.

Moments later they were both smoking corpses after a hail of empowered _ fireball_s and _flame strike_s. Emrena once again proved more resilient, but also without allies, and with us nipping at her heels (her red pumps were looking a bit ratty at this point) she did not seem destined to remain among the unliving much longer. For all of about 6 seconds and that’s when things started going south ...

Three more vampires materialized out of gas clouds from the holes in the floor, while Emrena put up an _antimagic field_ and walked over to my allies, who had rushed after her.

“The financial section of the newspaper? But I though you finished that yesterday, Edgar?”

After all the alterations, blessings and spells we put on ourselves, we are saturated with magic. During our recent trip to Q’barra, we adopted as a method of proving our bona fides to the locals, the simple expedient of finding someone who could cast _detect magic_. Once the blinded adept recovered their vision, there were no questions if we were as powerful as we were claiming.

The _antimagic field_ took all that away. Luna shrank from a huge, magically-enhanced wolf to a shifter with a club. The Endless Blade vanished into Gareth’s metal hand, the fingers of which became immobile. Korm was reduced from a muscle-bound druid to a very strong orc. As is usually the case, Six came out of it the best, since he depends the least on such augmentations. He might lack the raw power of the rest of us, but he has an uncanny way of never being the target when the hellfire comes down.

Not that it did him any good this time.

The vampires were not so impeded, as their skills did not depend on magic anywhere near so much as ours does. Though their resistance to damage was gone, their undead flesh combined with heavy armor to make them near-impervious to the weakened blows of my comrades, and they were still able to heal their wounds. It quickly became clear  – though only amusing in retrospect – that they could call on their faith to empower their attacks in a way the Silver Flame no longer could Gareth’s. Normally the most durable of us, Luna fell first under the fury of their blades.

Six held his own for a few moments, his flashing chain sweeping the feet out from two of the vampires and striking them again and again as they rose and moved in. But that only made him the obvious target, and the three of them combined their attacks to cut him down. While Gareth struck feebly at Emrena’s tough hide with his backup sword, Korm managed to drop one of the vampires that Six had wounded. But it was obvious that he wasn’t going to last very long against the remaining two and Gareth wasn’t doing much other than annoying Emrena, who ignored him and smirked at me while I stood there helpless. Her _field_ was blocking all of my spells so I couldn’t help Korm against the vampires, and I didn’t even have the crossbow I’d carried for when my spells had run out, when I first arrived in Sharn.

Gareth shouted to me, “Nameless – we need to get out of here!” He sounded even more panicky than usual when things go bad, presumably his supposed immunity to fear had been stolen by the _antimagic field_ as well. I opened my mouth to shout at him and then it struck me. The answer was so obvious. That _field_ was a two-edged sword. I’d actually prepared one that day, for much the same reason Emrena was using it now. It shut down nearly everything a mage could do and most of what a lich had. So while it weakened us and strengthened her allies, it did not aid _her_ personally.

“Gareth, stop screwing around with the sword! Just grab her, gag her and drag her towards me. NOW!” Emrena’s muffled cry of outrage was most satisfying, as Gareth crammed his gauntlet down her throat and wrapped his other arm around her neck. Even weakened by the lack of magic, Gareth was still much stronger than Emrena and she was able to put up little resistance as he dragged her down the corridor, while I dashed forward through the field. As I moved, I instantly calculated distances and positions on the battlefield. There was one more little thing to do. “Korm! Step over Luna!” Unarmored and facing two vampires, Korm instantly obeyed, though his expression showed his uncertainty of what I meant.

And then, as Gareth dragged Emrena just far enough, Luna’s unconscious body snapped back to its lupine shape – and size. As I had calculated, the sudden expansion blocked most of the hallway and prevented the vampires from rushing after Emrena, slaying Gareth and ruining my plan. Before they could think of scrambling over Luna, I unleashed my last _fireball_, empowering the magical energies in mid-cast and placing it precisely so as to vaporize one of them and leave the other weakened. Assisted by a pair of pseudonatural rhino beetles I’d summoned, Korm quickly finished off the remaining vampire, despite the bulk of Luna restricting his movements.

We walked back into the _antimagic field_, where Emrena’s outraged eyes were flashing daggers at us. With Gareth’s metal hand rammed down her throat and his arm around her neck, she couldn’t speak the words to dismiss the _antimagic field_ which held her helpless. And she knew I knew it.

“I enjoyed this part the most, Edgar. So did you.”

It was grim, but very enjoyable, watching Korm’s sword falling repetitively on Emrena’s helpless body. Slowly chipping away at the burning vitality of a lich’s withered body, while she was helpless to do anything to avoid the relentless march of her doom. I thought, as I watched, that it was much like what time does to those incapable of transcending their mortality. Emrena, of course, had attempted to do precisely that, but by the limited process of changing her physical form, whereas I plan to…

My cogitations – and Korm’s methodical chopping – were interrupted as a richly-dressed man strode up. Without preamble, he indignantly demanded, “What are you doing in the House of Hazal, in my home? You murderers and desecrators!” Emrena looked suddenly hopeful and her eyes were clearly pleading with the man, but that hope withered as Korm’s blows didn’t slacken at all and I cut the man off in mid-sentence.

“We will compensate the family for the man’s death. It was an accident and we put ourselves at some significant risk, while pursuing an Emerald Claw terrorist, responsible for numerous crimes and murders, in an attempt to help the child.” 

“Where was that book again. Edgar? Second on the left? Thank you.

Even as I spoke, I was trying to recall where I had heard the name he mentioned. And then I recalled it – the House of Hazal was a large mansion I had passed on the way to Trillia’s home. And suddenly a number of things became clear. Emrena’s letter about Sharn. And even the plumbing. I had used a _greater teleport_ capable of flinging us from one end of Eberron to the other and back again. In order to move us less than a mile from where we had started. In fact we were still in Sharn, and even in Tavick’s Landing, where our house was. The irony was great, though I might have found it less amusing if I hadn’t solved the mystery of the battle so successfully moments ago.

“I’m calling the watch to arrest you, you, you ..,” Hazal stuttered with rage. While the steady rhythm of Korm’s sword hacking at Emrena continued in the background.

“Yeeesss! That’s an exxxcceeellleeent idea! In fact, I’ll send someone to go get Warden Balan Cord of the Blackened Book. I’m certain he's going to be fascinated to learn about the Emerald Claw terrorist cell you’ve been harboring here. While the Blood of Vol is a legitimate – perhaps even unfairly frowned upon – religion, the Emerald Claw holds no such position. I look forward to hearing your explanation to him of this. And while you’re doing this, I have a message for your boss or Emrena’s. Whom ever this ‘queen’ she mentions in her letter is and it’s quite simple. Emrena is a f*ckup. She’s cost you the use of several powerful undead, has failed in her missions, pursued a personal vendetta against orders for the sake of a lover so stupid he got himself killed saving her from being inconvenienced, led us to this hidden temple and has brought nothing but grief to her masters. I’d advise your ‘queen’ to think carefully if she wants to retain the services of a loose cannon that’s as incompetent as she is. Make sure she thinks long and hard about this. Because we are going to have to go after Emrena’s phylactery and even if we die trying, I guarantee, there’s going to be enough collateral damage, that your 'Queen' will NOT be pleased.”

It was about that time that Korm’s sword finally cut her in half and the light went out of Emrena’s eyes as she crumbled into dust. “I do believe we can go get the watch now.”

Hazal stared for a moment, and then turned on his heel and strode away.

“Ah, I can’t argue with that, Edgar. Can’t argue with that.”


----------



## Vorput

Rackhir said:
			
		

> “I enjoyed this part the most, Edgar. So did you.”




Heh, well-written.  It captured well the essence of what we've seen of Nameless.


----------



## Furby076

Vorput said:
			
		

> Heh, well-written.  It captured well the essence of what we've seen of Nameless.




A mentally deranged megalomaniac?  Haven't I been saying that for years now?


----------



## shilsen

As Hazal turns to walk away, there’s a semi-human snarl from behind Nameless. Luna is back on her paws and utterly pissed off at what just happened, mostly because she didn’t get to do anything during the battle. “It’s his house? That does it – he’s going down!”

Luckily, Nameless is just that half a second faster, and his _antimagic field_ pops into existence just in time to disrupt her empowered _flame strike_. And to snap her back from giant wolf to shifter form. “Grraaghh!!” screams Luna, “Don’t _do_ that!”

As she tries to retreat out of the _field_, Nameless follows, keeping her within it, explaining quickly, “Listen – we’re still in Sharn and this guy hasn’t attacked us! We’ve also killed a couple of innocent people, remember? So let’s not exacerbate the situation. We got Emrena, and getting rid of the vampires we fought should be our first priority. Let’s get Balan here so it’s all official. Okay?”

Luna subsides grumpily and Nameless quickly dispatches Korm to do the needful. Less than an hour later, the temple is swarming with members of the Watch, with Balan and two other members of the Blackened Book also present. The Angels explain what happened in detail and also learn from him that he – and most people in Sharn – had no idea that there was a hidden temple to the Blood of Vol beneath the mansion owned by the wealthy merchant Lan Hazal. Questioning Lan and others present reveals that the temple has been in existence for years and the populace of the district Graywall, most of whom are Karrns, visit it secretly to pray and give blood as is traditional. The vast majority of them had no idea that Emrena and other members of the Emerald Claw were being sheltered by Lan, who also seems to have done it more from a sense of allegiance to the Blood of Vol than because he supported their actions against the Angels. Despite that, his aid to them counts as a significant mark against him, just as the fact that the Angels killed two innocent worshippers of the Blood of Vol is a problem, however well-intentioned their actions were. On behalf of the group, Nameless offers to pay a hefty recompense to the families, which Balan says should help him in ensuring the events don’t cause a major problem for them.

Besides the discussion, once Balan arrives the Angels track down the vampires which they had vanquished, by the simple expedient of having Korm summon a _phantom stag_, use it to turn ethereal and then ride back and forth through the floors and walls of the temple till he finds the secret compartments where they lie. The undead, having returned in gaseous form to their coffins and in the process of recovering from the battle, have a rude awakening as adamantine weapons break down the stone barriers behind which they lie. And crumble to dust as they are then swiftly decapitated. 

With affairs at the temple taken care of, the Angels head back to the Gray House, with Luna grousing all the way about not being allowed to strip the temple bare and take everything in it. The fact that the group recovered numerous powerful magical items from Emrena, including a runestaff that will allow him to _teleport_ them more often and a _farspeaking amulet_ that enables long-distance communication (evidently the one that she used to communicate with the spy on board the _Serenity_ during the attempt on Haydith’s life), makes little difference, with Luna arguing that she “really wanted those damn carpets!” 

Luckily, once they are back home, Nameless finds something to distract her, though not necessarily in the happiest way. “Tell me,” he asks the group, “Did you notice anything peculiar when Emrena’s _antimagic field_ hit you?”

Korm frowns. “Peculiar? You mean like the fact that none of my spells worked, none of my magic items and enhancements worked, and three vampires were trying to kill me?”

Luna snorts. “Bah! They didn’t do anything to you. They were too busy beating up on Six and me!”

Nameless sighs. “No. I meant something besides the obvious. I only experienced it for a second when I passed through her _field_, but that was enough, especially since I was paying attention for its recurrence when I cast mine. Mordain’s _programmed amnesia_ was suppressed at that point, and I got a lot of memories back.”

Gareth scowls. “Now you mention it, I felt something as if something strange was going on besides what Korm said, but I was a little too busy. What did you remember?”

Nameless shakes his head. “It’s difficult to remember, since I was a little distracted. Both times,” he adds, favoring Luna with a dirty look, “And since the memories are gone again, though I know they existed. Let’s just say we weren’t as happy about these augmentations as we remember.”

“I knew it!” says Luna. “I’m going to kill that bastard! Come on, let’s go get him!”

“Yes, yes,” says Nameless impatiently, “I’m sure we can do that at some point. But right now we’ve got more important things to do, since we need to find Emrena’s phylactery before she can reform. And then deal with this seed in the Mournland. Mordain can wait. I’ll use another _antimagic field_ tomorrow so we can work out precisely what memories were replaced and added.”

“All right. I’m sure we’ll recall being completely screwed over,” says Korm with grim relish, “But we still have some things to do today. You’re supposed to contact Saala again, Nameless.”

“Yes, I remember. And I want to send a message to Corven too, since we need to find out when his expedition is heading into the Mournland. But first Saala….” Nameless casts his spell and asks Saala if there is anything new to report. 

Saala replies, “No signs of problem with seals yet. Thought of location in Marches worth investigating. Can you come here? If so, meet at Pool of Shadows.” 

Nameless repeats what she said to the others. “I’ll just send Fett off with a letter to Corven via the Sivis post and we can leave.”

* * *
Barely an hour later, the Guardian Angels are back at the Pool of Shadows, sitting across from the leader of the Gatekeepers. The insane dragon Thlie is also present in her usual form of a crippled human woman, and she greets them by walking up to the group and carefully sniffing them individually up and down. Then, apparently satisfied, she announces with certainty, “You have changed. Much.”

“Yes,” says Nameless, “We know. But can you tell us anything about our changes? Or about the seed?” 

Thlie cocks her head, a thin line of drool running over her lower lip, and asks curiously, “Seed? What seed?”

Saala interrupts, “I have already asked Thlie about the seed. She has had no visions about it. I’ll inform you at once if she does, but she has no control over them, so I cannot say when that might be.” Thlie turns to look at her friend, smiles brightly – if a trifle vacantly – and walks over towards the pool. Reaching the edge, she stares into the dark water for a few seconds, and then lets herself fall face-first into it. Only to reappear a couple of seconds later in her draconic form and slowly swim along the surface.

Saala looks at her fondly for a moment and then turns back to the Angels. “I have some important news,” she begins, causing the adventurers try to focus on her and avoid being distracted by the huge black dragon blowing bubbles in the background. “As I mentioned, there are no signs at the manifest zones I have visited of any effects from this seed’s planting. But that may be because they are all sealed. As some of you know, there are manifest zones of Xoriat in the Shadow Marches than anywhere else in the world. And while many are blocked by _dimensional seals_ and guarded by us, others are not, especially those below the surface of the land. There is one particular area which is known to have an especially strong link to Xoriat and which has been held by aberrations for a long time. It is in a cavern of Khyber, tunnels from which – rumor says – eventually lead to the domain of Kyrzin.”

While Luna, Gareth and Six do not react in any way to the name, Nameless and Korm exchange glances. “Kyrzin,” repeats the alienist, “The prince of slimes and oozes, the daelkyr lord said to lurk beneath the Marches?”

“Yes. However, to the best of my knowledge, which is admittedly limited here, this manifest zone is still far from his domain. Maybe investigating it will reveal some change or result of the seed. I do not ask you to do it now, but as soon as you can. Perhaps I can show you the place today and you can go directly there when you are free to do so?”

“All right,” says Nameless. “I agree,” adds Six cautiously, “But can you tell us more about this place?”

“There is not that much to tell. It is a powerful manifest zone, deep under the earth. The daelkyr built many fortresses in the Shadow Marches when they invaded and one was there. After the daelkyr ruling the fortress was driven back to Xoriat when the plane was sundered from our world, the Gatekeepers of the time demolished the fortress and placed guards – and a _dimensional seal_ – over the manifest zone. Centuries and millennia passed and our numbers dwindled, and eventually, this was one of the sites where aberrations from Khyber killed and drove off our people. We recaptured the site on multiple occasions and lost it as many times, and the _seal_ was eventually destroyed in the battles. Finally, the location fell into the hands of the aberrations for the last time some three hundred years ago, and has not been recaptured since.” Her eyes flicker to Korm as she adds, “The last attempt was made approximately fifty years ago. One of our heroes, Harran’dal, was part of that expedition, from which nobody returned.”

Korm’s face sets in grim lines. “He was my great-grandfather. I did not see him, but I would like to see the spot where he fell.”

Saala nods and continues, “I have never been inside the place, nor do I know anyone who has, but the lore passed down to me says that the entrance leads into a maze of tunnels and caverns leading deep into Khyber. You should continually head downwards, till you eventually enter a giant cavern through which an underground river runs. The manifest zone is on the far side of the river. Tunnels from this area lead further and deeper into Khyber, presumably eventually leading to Kyrzin’s domain.”

…

Half an hour later, Saala points across the marsh to a rocky hill that rises out of the swamplands around it, indicating the dark cave mouth which faces the group. “There is the entrance.”

Nameless looks around, committing the spot to memory. “We’ll come here some time within the next two days, but I’m not sure exactly when.” He reaches in a pouch and produces a red crystal, one of the four keyed to the _farspeaking amulet_. “Keep this with you, and I shall speak to you through it daily, so we can exchange information.”

* * * 
As has become habitual with the Angels, a short time later they are at the other end of Khorvaire, waiting for a meeting with Prince Ryger ir’Wynarn. 

“Now, remember,” says Luna, glaring around at the others, “You’re to be on your best behavior around him. Nobody mentions anything about being fat, about hair, and definitely not about me supposedly being pregnant. I am _not_ having anyone be rude to me in front of my boyfriend!”

Gareth thinks for a second about asking if Ryger knows he’s her boyfriend, but self-preservation causes him to not mention it. Nameless sighs and says, “We’re not here because he’s your boyfriend, Luna. This is business. We need to find out about this Farlnen island that Emrena’s phylactery is supposedly on, and it’s within the Principalities, so he’s our best bet. That’s all.”

“You’re sure about this Farlnen as the location?” asks Gareth.

“That’s what Cyäegha told me, and it’s the best bet we have. Let’s see what Ryger can tell us.”

At this point, the major-domo comes up to lead them into a large sitting room, where the self-proclaimed ruler of the Lhazaar Principalities is waiting. The rakish ex-buccaneer greets the Angels warmly, especially Luna, and invites them to be seated. After pouring some drinks and a modicum of small talk, he gets directly to the point. “Can I assume that this visit means you are actively investigating the people who were impersonating you – and who attacked my ships?”

_Damn!_ “Actually,” Nameless says, as politely as he can, “We have a number of things on our plate right now, and need to deal with certain things before we can investigate that situation.”

“I see,” Ryger’s tone is disappointed, but there is an additional wariness in his eyes as they meet Nameless’. Despite the alienist’s best efforts, the changes in him automatically predispose strangers to view him oddly. Nameless’ eyes speak, if not of madness, of the fact that he has seen sights in comparison to which the one they currently gaze on is infinitesimally unimportant, and the undertones of his raspy voice only underline that impression. While those who know him can and do overlook the changes, for someone new to him, it is a fairly startling experience.

Knowing this, Gareth steps in smoothly. “We are currently dealing with one of the situations Nameless mentioned, and we hoped you could give us some information. The sooner we have it out of the way, the sooner we will be able to deal with whoever it was that attacked your ships.”

“All right,” says Ryger, “What do you need to know?”

“What can you tell us of Farlnen?” asks Nameless. “I believe the island is within your borders?”

Ryger looks puzzled. “Farlnen? Within the Principalities, yes, but far from here. It’s a deserted island up to the north, and far to the west. Why are you interested in it?”

Deciding that honesty is the best policy here, Nameless says, “As you may have read in the Korranberg Chronicle, we had a run-in with a lich. We finally vanquished her and I believe her phylactery is on Farlnen. Guarded by an undead dragon, probably a dracolich. Can you tell us anything about that?”

Ryger’s puzzled expression diminishes only slightly, and he shakes his head. “I know nothing about liches and undead dragons, there and elsewhere. The only dragons in the Principalities,” he adds with a touch of pride, “Are my Seadragons. As for Farlnen, it’s supposed to be deserted. The place is just a giant rock, mostly covered with ice, due to the cold up there, and with dangerous rocks all around it, so nobody goes there.”

“Do you have any maps of the place?”

“Only sailing charts showing the place and its location relative to other places in the Principalities. As I said, nobody goes there and I’m not sure it has ever been mapped out. But you are welcome to study our charts. They will help if you wish to sail there.”

Korm chuckles and Nameless smiles thinly. “We will not be sailing. But I appreciate the offer. I would like to see those charts.”

Ryger nods. “I’ll have them brought to you. You are welcome to stay here as long as you need.”

“Thank you for your hospitality. We will leave early tomorrow morning.”

“In the morning?” Though Ryger hides it well, Gareth is certain that the prince is a little surprised to have his hospitality so eagerly and fully accepted. “I shall have dinner and rooms arranged for you.” 

* * *
That night, a couple of hours after the Angels have headed to bed, the major-domo knocks on the door of their room, to inform them that there is someone to see them. 

“I wonder who knows we are here,” says Six, before asking, “Who is he?”

“I do not know the man, sir, but he says you will wish to speak to him if I tell you he is from ‘the Lady.’” The major-domo looks at the Angels quizzically. “Should I call the guard and have him removed?”

“No,” says Nameless wearily, “We’ll speak to him.”

“Very well, sir. Do you wish Prince Ryger to be informed?”

“No, that’s all right. Thank you.”

As the Angels follow the major-domo, Gareth says, “Hey – where’s Luna? Considering this might lead to another fight, I thought she’d be all over this.”

Korm chuckles. “She didn’t join us after dinner, remember? She’s probably all over Ryger instead.”

“By the Flame! That’s not a visual I needed!” 

The messenger, a young man in traveler’s clothes, is waiting patiently in a meeting room. Nameless’ _arcane sight_ instantly informs him that a faint illusion masks the man’s form and that there are two spots of strong divination in his eyes. Once the major-domo has left, the man says, “Please do not be alarmed. I come in peace bearing a message.” Then he speaks a word and the illusion fades, revealing the pale, fanged visage of a vampire. Each of his eyes bears a small yellow spot, which swiftly expands till a bright yellow glow fills them. The vampire goes rigid, and when he speaks, the voice is clearly not his own. It is just as clearly female, though with a rough, raspy quality to it.

“Greetings,” she says, gleaming eyes flickering around the Angels, “You may call me the Lady.”

Nameless smiles. _No real surprise here_. He studies the new auras that sprang up around the vampire and surmises that it is a spell variant of the _farspeaking amulet_, except allowing a speaker to do so through a willing vessel. “Lady Vol, I presume?” 

The voice takes on a slightly amused tinge, but simply repeats, “You may call me the Lady,” before continuing, “I wished to speak to you because of recent events. You have had issues with the Blood of Vol and the Emerald Claw and the lich Emrena. What is your aim in this area?” 

Six answers instantly, the irritation clear in his metallic tone, “To get her to leave us the hell alone!”

“I see,” is the placid answer. “And what about the Blood of Vol or the Emerald Claw? Are you working actively against them?”

“No,” says Nameless. “We have no interest in them. Those idiots keep attacking us!”

“You did, however, attack an Emerald Claw cell in Karrnath, did you not?”

“Yes, but that was as a favor for our hosts. We have no real interest in them.”

Gareth speaks up at this point. “The Emerald Claw is a terrorist organization and has plagued Karrnath – and the rest of Khorvaire – for decades. If I had my way I would see them wiped out, but as my companions said, that’s not our goal right now. I say this in the interests of honesty.”

Korm guffaws and looks at Six. “I love it when he’s diplomatic!”

Six’s metal face shows no response, but Nameless frowns, says, “You’re not helping, Gareth,” and then replies to the Lady, “We wanted nothing more to do with Emrena but she’s the one who attacked us. And through her foolishness she may have released Xoriat on Khorvaire.”

Though the vampire’s face doesn’t change, there is clearly surprise in the voice speaking through him. “Xoriat?”

“Yes, Xoriat, the Realm of Madness, which has been separated from…”

“Yes,” says the Lady, with a trace of impatience, “I know what Xoriat is. But what does this have to do with Emrena?”

“I don’t have time or inclination to go into details, but there was a seed in me which will enable the doors between Xoriat and our world to open once it is planted and comes to full fruit, with my death being required for it to plant itself. And Emrena killed me.”

“I see you have … recovered?”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “Death and I don’t seem to be on speaking terms. Anyhow, now Emrena’s actions mean Xoriat will come again, and apparently you know what that means. We are trying to prevent it, and that’s another reason why we need to deal with Emrena once and for all. We cannot have that f*ck-up showing up and interfering at some crucial moment.”

“I … see,” says the Lady thoughtfully. “This changes the situation drastically. You are sure of this?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. That does not change what I wished to tell you, but it does make it even more appropriate. I contacted you to inform you that Emrena will not be a problem for you any further.”

“Good,” says Nameless. “And to be certain of that, we will need her phylactery.”

The vampire shakes its head mechanically. “No. I shall ensure that she does not bother you ever again.” There is just the faintest flicker of dark humor beneath the bare statement.

“How do we know that?” says Gareth, frowning.

The vampire’s head turns, its yellow gaze studying the paladin. “Because I said so.”

Gareth’s face shows his disbelief, but Nameless quickly says, “Very well. As long as she leaves us alone, we leave her alone.”

“And the Blood of Vol and the Emerald Claw.” It is a statement, not a question. “As long as you take no further actions against either the Blood of Vol or the Emerald Claw, I have no interest in you. If you do, then you shall be obliterated. Agreed?”

“Yes!” says Six, before anyone else can say anything. The warforged adds, “We are _all_ agreed!” Though a little surprised at the vehemence, none of the others contradict him.

After a couple of seconds, the Lady says, “Good. I am pleased we could come to an agreement. I wish you luck in your quest regarding Xoriat. If I can aid in some way, I shall inform you. Now, I suggest you stand back.”

The Angels don’t bother to ask questions but quickly comply. As they back away, there is a small explosion and the vampire falls in on itself, being reduced to a gray cloud which makes its way sluggishly towards the door. 

“Well,” says Korm, “That’s certainly one way to ensure your messenger isn’t tracked back to you. So, Six, why so quick to agree? Not that I’m saying there was anything wrong with that.”

“Because given half a chance you idiots will get me killed. The fewer enemies we have coming after us right now, the better,” explains Six. “And now this is taken care of, we just have Mordain’s memories, a manifest zone in the Marches, and a daelkyr invasion to take care of. Peachy!”


----------



## Sidekick

This is such teasing.  The story is getting really really cool and yet I know that a TPK is waiting to rear it's ugly little head.

muzza ruzza fuzza D1ck Dastardly....

oh P.S. Shil - good stuff


----------



## Furby076

Sidekick said:
			
		

> This is such teasing.  The story is getting really really cool and yet I know that a TPK is waiting to rear it's ugly little head.
> 
> muzza ruzza fuzza D1ck Dastardly....
> 
> oh P.S. Shil - good stuff





Great Shil is going to TPK us not because he wants to TPK us but because he wants to screw with the readers of this thread....

Oh I updated my paladin character on our character thread:

http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=182305


----------



## shilsen

Sidekick said:
			
		

> This is such teasing.  The story is getting really really cool and yet I know that a TPK is waiting to rear it's ugly little head.
> 
> muzza ruzza fuzza D1ck Dastardly....




Nah! You know my DMing philosophy already - killing PCs is the kindest thing you can do to them since then they stop suffering. 

That said, two of our last four sessions came very close to a TPK (the fight with Emrena, which you already read about, and another which should show up in two writeups or so), and the PCs are dealing with stronger and deadlier enemies on a regular basis now, so one could easily happen sometime. What would happen then depends on how, why and where the TPK occurs. Suffice to say I have a couple of possibilities in mind already for an aftermath 



> oh P.S. Shil - good stuff




Thanks. Since I'm on break now, I should hopefully be updating more regularly than I have been recently. We're not actually playing till the first weekend of Jan, but I've got enough material remaining for at least 4 updates.


----------



## Vorput

> Korm chuckles. “She didn’t join us after dinner, remember? She’s probably all over Ryger instead.”
> 
> “By the Flame! That’s not a visual I needed!”




and



> Though the vampire’s face doesn’t change, there is clearly surprise in the voice speaking through him. “Xoriat?”
> 
> “Yes, Xoriat, the Realm of Madness, which has been separated from…”
> 
> “Yes,” says the Lady, with a trace of impatience, “I know what Xoriat is.




had me laughing for quite awhile.  Fun update.


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> ...
> 
> had me laughing for quite awhile.  Fun update.




Most of the funny material is actually stuff which happens at the table, though sometimes I take out-of-character dialogue and make it work for the PC(s). I think the laughing helps them deal with the insanity.

And here's the next bit (in two parts, since the forum won't let me post it in one):

* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, when the Angels gather in their living room, Gareth brings in a copy of the Korranberg Chronicle. “My advertisement asking for adventurers to contact us is out,” he says, flipping it open to the page. “Let’s see how many responses we get. But there’s something else that’s interesting. Look at this.” On the opposite page to their advertisement is an article discussing the situation in Q’barra, where rumors say the lizardfolk threat is not yet over. A large contingent of Riedran troops have arrived in the country and are providing support to the local military. 

“Hmm – I wonder if we should visit and take out another army for them,” muses Nameless. “That was good exercise.”

“For you,” says Gareth. “Six and I almost got killed. Speaking of which, where’s Six?”

“Downstairs,” says Korm. “He said he’ll be here shortly. There’s another warforged here to meet him.” Korm grins. “A very … pretty warforged.”

At that moment, the warforged Korm mentioned is sitting across from Six, and if not pretty, he is certainly colorful. His form is almost completely covered in gaudy clothing which seems more appropriate to the theaters and restaurants of Menthis Plateau. He even wears gloves and large boots, so only his metal face shows that he’s a warforged, and even that is partly hidden beneath a plumed hat. Even the backpack which sits by his side and the lute resting against it are on the garish side. It is impossible to deny that he lives up to his name. 

“Well, Dandy,” says Six, “It is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard of you before, and I had wondered if I’d see you at the Tain Gala. You have played there, right?”

“Yes. Twice. Being the only warforged bard in Sharn and a member of the Circle of Song has some significant advantages. Not that I’m the most famous warforged in Sharn, of course.” He laughs, emphasizing the almost-human quality of his voice, even though it retains some of the original metallic timbre. 

“So Smith sent you here?”

“Yes. He said you wished to talk to one of the reforged. There are only a few of us here, but I fancy more will take up the philosophy. Time will tell.”

Six spends a little time discussing things with the bard, who he quickly finds to be very garrulous. Especially on the subject of warforged manufacture. When Six brings it up, Dandy’s voice drops and he looks around suspiciously, before whispering, “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but I’m quite convinced that House Cannith is making warforged in the Cogs.”

_Just as I thought_. “Really? Can you prove it?”

Dandy is still warforged enough to be unable to crack an expression, but his shoulders droop slightly. “Unfortunately, not yet. And nobody will believe me, not even Smith. But I have seen warforged at the Red Hammer whom I have never seen in Sharn before, and who seem,” Dandy waves in a vague manner, “Somehow ‘new.’ Personally, I think Blue and Crucible are in cahoots with Cannith.”


“Interesting. Tell me, have any of these new warforged, or any of the reforged, ever developed a dragonmark?”

The question seems to catch Dandy off-guard. “Huh? A warforged with a dragonmark? Now that’s something I’ve never heard of! But it would certainly be very exciting if it happened! Do you know of one?”

“No. I was simply interested in whether it has ever happened or could happen.”

Six spends a little more time talking to Dandy and then bids the talkative bard goodbye, promising to speak to him again at some point later. Having seen him out, Six heads upstairs to rejoin his companions.

Once he is there, Nameless uses an _antimagic field_ to nullify Mordain’s _programmed amnesia_. The changes, though temporary, are drastic. When in the _field_, all the emotional responses to Mordain as a kindly, benevolent figure instantly disappear, and the memories of what really happened during the visit return. The moment when Gareth had refused to let Mordain take a sample from him is the point from which the fake memories took over. In reality, Mordain attacked instantly. He was incredibly fast, and though expecting trouble, all of the Angels except Six were too slow to respond. Six attempted to trip him but missed. Mordain’s opening attack was a burst of energy from his body, which Nameless identifies as a _greater fireburst_, but modified to do cold damage, exceedingly strong and designed to knock out rather than kill. Korm, Gareth and Nameless went down immediately, leaving only Six – who had barely dodged the effect – and Luna, who had managed to absorb the damage and remain on her feet. Mordain promptly struck Luna with a quickened _orb_ of sonic energy and took her out. Six was able to make a series of attacks and actually wounded him slightly, though he seemed resistant to the material of the warforged’s chain, before Mordain used a _power word_ to stun him and blasted him into unconsciousness before he could recover.

The following memories are even more disquieting, consisting mostly of myriad periods of anywhere from a few moments to over an hour when some of the Angels were awake while Mordain was working on them. They remember the Fleshweaver talking politely and dispassionately while slicing their bodies apart and putting them back together. During most of these times, the four spellcasters had their tongues and hands missing so that they should be unable to cast spells, and there were certain objects implanted in them which apparently further prevented any use of individual powers. Each of the Angels also has a specific memory of Mordain extracting what seemed to be part of their brain and brain stem (even Six, who doesn’t really have those things) and placing it in a small vat for what he called incubation purposes. At the time, each of them was in a larger vat, the fluid in which evidently had powerful regenerative properties, since it regrew parts of them (even of Six’s metal and wood superstructure) even as Mordain removed them. 

Expectedly, some of the memories of these events are significantly blurry, due to the amount of pain the subject was in at the time. Each of the Angels does, however, remember that during the course of the various procedures Mordain explained that all this was not just for his own research, though they had helped immensely there and were also providing an opportunity to field-test certain ideas of his. The changes were to ensure that they were going to be strong enough to survive and deal with the various things they would surely encounter in the future due to the seed in Nameless’ chest. He also made sure to explain to every one of them that when their memories return, as he’s certain they will at some point, they think long and hard before doing something as foolish as to seek revenge. “Remember,” Mordain said, “I gave you these enhancements. I know how to dispel them – instantly and permanently.”

One more interesting thing that the recurrence of the real memories indicates is that Mordain did a certain amount of emotional/personality manipulation too. The most obvious aspect is that he made all of the Angels significantly more amenable to accepting drastic changes to them, such as the kind he performed, than they would have been otherwise. Korm, for example, recalls a time when he would have been absolutely horrified at the idea of embodying aspects of different aberrations. But even with the memories temporarily restored, each of them finds that it is difficult to lose the effect, since it has become almost second nature by now. The same applies to the modifications he apparently performed on them individually, usually raising some sort of emotional quality in them – pride in Gareth, curiosity in Nameless, recklessness in Korm, caution in Six, and anger in Luna. And why he did so is unknown, since none of them recalls Mordain explaining the reason.

Nameless’ spell eventually ends less than a minute and a half later, though it feels much longer to the Angels, and as the _programmed amnesia_ snaps back into place, they have the strange situation of knowing exactly what Mordain did to them but no longer possessing the actual memories of him doing so. And despite the knowledge of the physical and mental manipulation, the emotional response to the Fleshweaver still remains.

“Excellent!” says Nameless dryly. “I know what the bastard did to us and I still feel like he’s our ‘nicest, bestest friend in all the world.’”

“Yeah,” snarls Luna, “But that doesn’t change the fact that we know what he did. Or that I’m going to visit him and drop an _earthquake_ on his bloody lab, as soon as I learn how!”

Gareth looks at the others, the same anger as in Luna’s voice in his eyes, “We return to him, in an _antimagic field_, and then we kill him. No questions – just kill him. He is a mage, and without his spells he is weaker then that lich Emrena was.”

“I’m not that sure,” says Korm pessimistically, “But yeah – I’d like to deal with him at some point too.”

Six points out, “We do have more important things to deal with right now. Revenge can always wait. And…”

At this point, there’s a knock on the door. Nameless walks over to it, saying, “That better not be another ‘end of the world’ scenario. What is the plural of apocalypse, anyway?”

When he opens it, Fett is waiting outside, a small frown on his face. The sound of multiple voices floats up the stairs behind him. “You guys need to come down. I think you’re being evicted.”

“WHAT?!”

Nameless puts a hand to his head. “Luna, don’t kill anybody. Please. At least not yet. Let’s find out what’s going on.”

The Angels follow Fett down the stairs, while the changeling explains that a large number of people have arrived to speak with them. This group is waiting in the meeting hall, led by Balan and a dour-looking dwarf carrying a shield which is actually taller than him. His heavy armor bears the symbols of Breland and Sharn, and the Angels recognize him as Kestran Dal, second in command in the Guardians of the Gate, who had been very insistent that Nameless be arrested when the alienist had been framed for Arrok’s murder. With them are four individuals wearing uniforms that match Kestran’s, and six soldiers in Deneith livery. All are well armed and armored, except for Balan. 

As the Angels descend the stairs and can see the house’s entrance, they realize more visitors are present. Lounging in the doorway and speaking to the warforged guards is a tall shifter carrying a longbow. Five more people stand behind her, four in breastplates and one without armor. All six of them wear hooded crimson cloaks – all magical, Nameless notes – bearing two badges, the seal of the Brelish crown on the left collar and an image of a snarling displacer beast surrounded by the words “First in Battle, Last to Fall.” The emblem, as some of the Angels know, is that of the Redcloaks, one of the most famous and elite of Brelish battalions to have fought in the Last War, half of which is now assigned to Sharn. And with that information, it seems clear that the woman in the doorway is Meira the Huntress, about whose wartime exploits bards still sing songs, second in command to the battalion head, Khandan the Hammer.

_Looks like someone’s expecting trouble_. “Hello, Balan,” says Nameless, as pleasantly as he can, “Nice to see you again.” Kestran scowls at the alienist’s harsh tone and says loudly, “We are here on behalf of the city to…,” but Balan smoothly cuts him off. “Hello, Nameless. Sadly, I come with bad news. In view of recent events, specifically the attack on your home and your subsequent attack on the House of Hazal, there is going to be an investigation. During that time, for the safety of the neighborhood, you have been asked to leave Upper Tavick’s Landing.” Kestran adds loudly, “And you’ll get out quietly, if you know what’s good for you!”

Balan continues to speak as if the dwarf had never opened his mouth. “Unfortunately, you’re required to leave the district forthwith.” Kestran again adds, “Or be arrested. Your choice!” The dwarf looks around belligerently, as if expecting a fight. The men with him, both the members of the Guardians of the Gate and the Deneith warriors, look much less enthused about the prospect of violence. Least of all Balan, who sighs and says, “This isn’t strictly my affair, but since the events involved magic it falls somewhat under my jurisdiction, and I came along to make sure nothing goes wrong.” His eyes flicker for a second to Luna and back again.

Nameless, who’s been half focusing on her too, nods. “I understand.” At which point, Luna, who has quickly grown too incandescent with rage to speak thus far, snarls, “Oh yeah! You bastards want to take our house? I’m going to ki…,” at which point Korm claps a hand over her mouth and starts whispering violently into her ear. 

Kestran promptly starts saying, “She threatened us! I demand tha…,” before Balan rounds on him. “I’ll handle this!” snaps the Warden. “Now I’m going to talk to the Angels separately. And you can all wait here. Understood?” His expression brooks no argument and Kestran sulkily acquiesces.

Balan hurriedly leads the Angels into the nearest room, shuts the door and starts speaking hurriedly. “Listen – I know this is b*llshit! But you guys have to go along with it. Only temporarily, of course.”

“Can you just explain what exactly is going on?” asks Gareth with a scowl. “I’m not the greatest expert on the Galifar Code, but this seems highly irregular.”

Balan grimaces, “It is. But Upper Tavick’s has its own laws. There are a lot of people here – a lot of _rich_ people – who have been unhappy about you being here. Remember, normally you’d never have got this place, since you need a petition signed by thirty local householders to buy property in Upper Tavick’s. You only got the place because it was being held by the Watch and the Citadel due to the Emerald Claw operation here and because Talleon pulled some strings. Some of the people in the area weren’t happy about that. With the attacks that just happened, a bunch of them took it to the City Council through the local representative. Bestan ir’Tonn, who’s a halfling barrister strongly connected to the Boromars. They did it last night and got permission to have you evicted and your property and its contents held as collateral in case a fine has to be assessed for the attack on the House of Hazal and the deaths that occurred there.”

The Warden takes a quick look around, lingering for a second on Luna again, and continues hurriedly, “I’m absolutely sure you don’t need to worry about it, and the whole thing will be cleared up in a couple of days, but leaving quietly will be much better. Kestran managed to get himself involved since you include Gareth, who’s a non-Brelish citizen, and multiple immigrants, and the attack killed a couple of Karrnathi immigrants. The Guardians deal with the actions of foreign nationals and immigrants, including crimes involving them. He’s never liked how much attention you guys get. And he brought some of the Redcloaks along to see that you don’t cause trouble. I just found out about it and made sure I invited myself along to make sure nobody does anything silly. So … please don’t!”

“We won’t,” says Six quickly. “We’re leaving!”

“What?!” roars Luna. Even the others look at Six with some surprise.

“Listen,” says Six, “Half the time we’re complaining about the trouble this city gives us. Luna – you’re always saying this place is too crowded. And we’re too easy to find here, as Emrena did, and we’ve got a lot of things to do for which we don’t really need to be here. So let’s just get out of here, let Balan clear this up, and come back when we need to. You can clear this up – right, Balan?”

“Um, yes,” says Balan, seeming a little surprised at the speed of Six’s agreement.

“All right,” says Six, heading for the door. “Let’s move!”

“But, but … they’re throwing us out!” almost wails Luna. “And we’re just going to let them? Without a fight?”

“No, Luna,” snaps Nameless. “No fighting! That’ll just cause more trouble. Thanks for the help, Balan. We’ll get our stuff and leave.”

“Actually,” says Balan carefully, “Technically you’re not supposed to be taking any of the contents…”

“Anyone touches my self-cleaning carpets they die!” snarls Luna. “I’m taking them. And the rakshasa rugs. And the stuffed mind flayer. Just try to stop me!”

Balan lifts both hands and steps back. “Sure, sure – whatever you say. And don’t worry about anything you leave behind. It’s going to remain here. And Fett and your guards can keep an eye on it.”

“All right. Luna, there’s a limit to how much we can carry with us. Take the minimum.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Luna growls, turning and following Six, who is already heading out of the door. As she passes out of it, she transforms into a large wolf, startling Kestran, who was standing as near the door as he could without actually listening at it. Luna bares her fangs and snarls at him, causing the dwarf to grab at a weapon and yell for help. 

Meira, still lounging at the doorway, calls, “Is there any trouble?”

Balan, who has followed Luna out of the room with the others, quickly says, “No, no trouble at all. Stop being foolish, Kestran!”

The wolf turns and glares at Meira. “Something wrong? You traitor bitch! What the hell sort of shifter are you?”

Meira simply flashes a wolfish grin back at her, but Six quickly intervenes. “Luna – come on! You need to help me get our stuff.” Luna stares at Six, back at Meira, and then back at Six again. “All right.” She turns away, and then, as an afterthought, suddenly, extends her prehensile tongue and licks the horrified Kestran’s face.

“Gah!” Kestran staggers away, wiping at his beard, shouting, “Balan – you saw what she did!” Trying to hide his amusement, the Warden replies quickly, “She licked you. Get over it!”

Nameless reaches in his pocket and produces a set of keys, which he proceeds to jingle in front of Luna. “See, Luna? Shiny! Follow the shiny!” He mimics throwing the keys up the steps.  

With a half-amused half-angry-snarl, Luna sticks her tongue out at him, and then pads her way up the stairs after Six. Pausing at the top, she looks down and growls, “You’re all going to pay for this. All of you! And Sharn!”

As she disappears upstairs, Nameless shakes his head. “We’re going to be hearing about this for a long time!” Then he digs in a pouch and produces one of the crystals that are part of the _farspeaking amulet_ obtained from Emrena. “Keep this, Balan. It’ll let me contact you daily. I’ll leave another with Fett.”

The Angels collect whatever they are taking with them and re-gather in Nameless’ sanctum, mostly ignoring the unhappy looking Deneith guards and watchmen whom Kestran sends to watch what they are taking with them. Korm is the last to arrive, seconds after a couple of startled screams ring through the building, grinning from ear to ear. 

“What happened?” asks Gareth.

“Kestran found Nameless’ larder and decided to check it out. I warned him.”

Nameless laughs and _teleport_s the Angels away.


----------



## shilsen

“So you’re definitely interested?” asks Corven, looking around at his old companions as they sit in his rooms in New Cyre. The former member of the Angels is clearly doing well for himself, looking healthier and maybe even a little paunchy in comparison to when he was adventuring with them.

“Yes,” says Nameless. “We’re going to need to do some work in there and since you’d asked a while ago, we thought we could help you in the process.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that. From all that I’ve been reading about your activities, I gather you’ve picked up a few skills since I last saw you, and I’m sure your abilities and expertise will come in very handy. So, what are you doing in the Mournland?” 

Complete silence greets his question and after a couple of seconds, he raises a hand. “Actually, you know what? I don’t need to know. This is one of these things where I’m safer not knowing, right?” 

Nameless nods and says succinctly, “Definitely.”

Corven grins. “Hey, I spent enough time around you bunch, remember?” He winks at Korm. “You have my sympathies. So let me tell you a bit about the expedition.”

He goes on to explain that the expedition is going into Mournland in five days. It is the largest expedition to ever enter the area and will be doing so in a double-pronged manner, half going in from near the large town of Vathirond at the north-eastern corner of Breland, while the other half will be doing so from near Fort Kennrun, further to the south. Corven prefers that the Angels accompany the southern group. Each group will include artificers from House Cannith, scholars from Morgrave University, and former Cyrans of all stripes, with security provided by House Deneith. The groups will establish a camp both inside and outside the Dead-Gray Mist which surrounds the Mournland, with multiple smaller parties heading into the Mournland from the inner camps. For example, parties from the southern group will head for the former camp of the deceased Lord of Blades and the remnants of the city of Making. These parties have different objectives ranging from general study to examining a particular location to attempting to recover particular lost objects. The expedition is expected to last at least a month and may extend its stay depending on discoveries, use of resources, loss of members, etc.

After Corven covers these basic details, Nameless asks him to tell them as much as he can about the Mournland. Corven proceeds to expand on a number of the unusual elements of the area beginning with the Dead-Gray Mist, the wall of thick gray mist which forms a wall and ceiling to the land. He mentions that it varies drastically in width, has been known to disorient and sometimes harm those traveling through it, and probably has creatures dwelling within it. He goes on to warn of the problems with food and water in the Mournland, since nothing growing or living in there is safely edible, nor can the water there be drunk. Food and water must be brought in from outside, and this is further complicated by the fact that provisions in even securely sealed containers will sometimes rot and decay incredibly fast. Only provisions stored in extradimensional spaces are completely safe, until one removes them. Navigation is also complicated. Maps of pre-Mournland Cyre are of very limited use, since the terrain has shifted drastically and most landmarks have disappeared. The few maps made by earlier expeditions are not much better, since the terrain of the Mournland also seems to shift dramatically over time, so a journey that took three days may take twice that long on the way back. 

Corven then goes on to talk about the problems of magic in the Mournland, especially the fact that almost no healing magic works in there. Gareth promptly interrupts. “Healing doesn’t work in there? Any healing?” He turns to Nameless. “Why are we going in there again?”

The Angels begin to grin at the paladin’s worried face and tone, and Corven throws back his head and guffaws. “Ah – I see some things never change.” He looks at Nameless. “So I guess ‘heal me, heal me!’ is still Gareth’s war-cry?”

Nameless chuckles, “Yes. Very much so.”

Gareth scowls and says, “Very funny. I just want to make sure what we’re going into. So, no healing at all?”

“Not for you,” replies Six, with a metallic chuckle, “But _repair_ spells work fine on me. I always said you need to be more metal.”

“Six is right,” corroborates Corven. “Normal healing spells don’t work. But you have one advantage, since you’re a paladin.”

“We’re not completely sure about that,” grins Korm.

Corven lifts a quizzical eyebrow but doesn’t ask, explaining, “Your ability to heal wounds by touch will still work.”

“And we can heal in extradimensional spaces too,” says Nameless, “Such as a _rope trick_ or a _magnificent mansion_. Right, Corven?”

“Correct. That’ll be your best option. The main issue with magic is that the Mournland distorts it in many ways, some of it being consistent – like with the effect on healing magic – or tied to particular locations, and some being completely random and dependent on nobody knows what cause. Luckily, there are some things we’re fairly sure of. For example, divinations cast from outside the Mournland tend to be almost useless about its contents, and are only slightly better inside it. And this includes creatures entering the Mournland, which become incredibly hard to use divinations on. There especially seems to be no way to divine the cause of the Mournland, with even spells as powerful as _commune_, _contact other plane_ and _legend lore_ providing no information at all.” 

The Angels, with their information about the role that Nameless inadvertently played on the Day of Mourning, all keep silent, and Corven continues, “Something which doesn’t matter to most people, since they aren’t powerful enough to employ it, but will to you is teleportation magic. Teleportation into the Mournland from outside simply fails to work. Teleportation within the Mournland or out of it does often work, but with drastically random effects. Similarly, any conjured creature sent across the boundary of the Dead-Gray Mist apparently winks out of existence. Creatures can be conjured inside the Mournland but the effects are fairly random. There have even been cases of them attacking their summoners, though that should not be possible. Necromancy is both extremely powerful and incredibly dangerous within the Mournland, which is understandable since it is effectively a mass grave.” Corven hesitates slightly, clearly thinking of all that he and his countrymen lost that day, before continuing, “Nearly 2 million people died on the Day of Mourning, and their bodies still litter the land, since the dead do not decay there. The Mournland is heavily populated by the spirits of the dead and their lingering life energy allows necromantic spellcasting to often be much more powerful than the caster expected, but usually to have all sorts of additional effects. Not necessarily good ones.” He smiles thinly. “Not that I expect you’ll be practicing much necromancy in there.”

Corven continues to the subject of the inhabitants of the Mournland, of which there are actually quite a large number. Those creatures which survived the Day of Mourning were all warped and changed in various ways, usually much to their detriment and that of those which meet them. The Mournland has apparently also formed its own ecology, with new creatures appearing that are unseen elsewhere in Khorvaire. The most famous of these aberrant life forms are the living spells, thousands of which exist there. Though the original theory was that living spells were created specifically on the Day of Mourning, there is some evidence now that more are appearing, including deadlier and more powerful varieties than before.

This is the piece of information which really interests Luna, who has been seeming significantly bored with most of the preceding information. “Living spells? That’s what I was interested in. I want one for a pet!”

“Umm … what?”

“I want one. I’ve wanted one ever since Nameless told me about them!”

Corven looks at Nameless with incredulity, the emotion only diminished because this is Luna saying what she is. “You did tell her what a living spell is, right?”

Nameless says dryly, “Yes. And you haven’t been gone long enough to have forgotten how little difference that makes.”

“What?” Luna scowls. “Why do you idiots keep acting like that? I just want one. Not even a big one. Maybe a poison one? That would be so cool! I could keep it in my room. And since I’m immune it wouldn’t bother me, but if some idiot like that bastard Kestran came to my room then it would melt his head off!”

Corven makes one effort to explain. “Luna – a living spell is a mindless creature which only seeks to destroy whatever it encounters.”

“So? If I keep it long enough I’m sure it’ll grow to love me!”

“And,” mutters Korm, “I will hug it and kiss it and love it and call it fluffy!”

“Shut up, you!” growls Luna. “You’re just jealous because I can have my own little poison cloud and you can’t because you’re not immune, like a _real_ druid would be!” She turns back to Corven. “Anyway, about getting my cloud….”

Nameless waves at Corven over Luna’s head. “You know, we’ve got a couple of other places to go. How about we come back another time?”

Corven, already holding a hand to his head, nods. “Yes, that would be best.”

* * *

Since distance is no longer an issue for them, the Angels decide to head back to Sharn and inform Flim Turen of what happened with them and their house. The gnome correspondent is very happy to hear the story and takes copious notes about it, promising to check with Balan and have a story about it in the Korranberg Chronicle as soon as he can.

With that taken care of, the adventurers discuss what to do next. Nameless suggests visiting Q’barra and taking out another army for practice, but the others prefer to go after the manifest zone that Saala told them of in the Shadow Marches. So Nameless _teleport_s them to the spot. 

With it already being evening by this point, they decide to make camp for the night and head into the tunnels the next morning. Nameless puts up a _rope trick_ half a mile from the entrance and the Angels settle down for the night, looking forward to a day of kicking aberration ass and not taking any names.


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:
			
		

> With it already being evening by this point, they decide to make camp for the night and head into the tunnels the next morning. Nameless puts up a _rope trick_ half a mile from the entrance and the Angels settle down for the night, looking forward to a day of kicking aberration ass and not taking any names.




Which is good because the names are in alien syllables foreign to the human tongue, the very sound of which can rip your sanity apart.


Can't wait to see what you do with the Mourland.  I still have nightmares about that mournland children post in the Horror Thread ::shudders::

Vorp


----------



## Rackhir

From the web boards we use for some of the in between game time stuff.



			
				Shilsen said:
			
		

> Of course, he adds, it's unlikely that you'll be able to keep the place in Upper Tavick's




Me : Nameless will plane shift to Xoriat when he hears this. Since Luna is going to go nuclear.

No scratch that, we're going to need the Daelkyr to help restrain Luna. This whole seed things might work to our advantage after all.



			
				Shilsen said:
			
		

> Hah! I'm imagining a daelkyr leading an army of aberrations out of a portal and finding Nameless waiting for it with a worried expression on his face. "Listen, we've got a problem..."


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Can't wait to see what you do with the Mourland.  I still have nightmares about that mournland children post in the Horror Thread ::shudders::




Oh, come on! They were sweet!

"Play with me."

Awww!

Anyway, here's the next bit. Two segments again.


* * * * * * * * * *

“All right,” says Korm, “Let’s see what I can find out.” The Gatekeeper completes the _commune with nature_. “So I’m checking the terrain, the presence of humanoids, and the presence of powerful aberrations – right, Nameless?”

“Yes.”

Korm feels his consciousness expand into the surrounding area and soon realizes that Saala was correct in that there is just the one tunnel leading under the rocky hill, which soon splits into a maze of tunnels and small caverns. These stretch for nearly a quarter of a mile, descending about half that distance, before opening into a gigantic cavern. The cavern must contain buildings or constructed areas of some kind, since there are multiple blind spots that his spell cannot penetrate. There are also multiple blind spots inside the tunnels and caverns, but strangely each of them is only a few inches thick. Korm assumes they are constructed walls or barriers to block passage. He does not detect any humanoids, but he does detect a number of powerful aberrations. There are twelve of them among the tunnels and smaller caverns, two more in the huge caverns (though, of course, there may be more among the buildings), and another three right at the edge of his spell range. He also picks up a large channel passing through the cavern which is probably the underground river Saala mentioned. Certain parts of the channel show up as blind spots to his magical senses, so it has clearly been worked on, and there is a network of these blind spots heading off towards the far end of the caverns, to and past the trio of powerful aberrations in the distance.

The spell ends and Korm describes everything that he picked up. “Now I’ll go and check it out a little up-close and personal.” He turns and mounts the _phantom stag_ that he had summoned before casting the spell. “Come on, H’ru’dolph – let’s go do some scouting.”

“You named it?” asks Gareth. “How do you tell the difference?”

“Easy,” says Korm, “He’s the one with red nose. Okay, H’ru’dolph – up, up and away!” The stag breaks into a run and, on its third step, fades from sight, turning _ethereal_ along with its rider.

The rest of the Angels settle down to wait, but it’s less than a minute later that Korm and the stag reappear. Both look a little the worse for wear, especially Korm, who has a couple of deep scratches on his right arm and a pallor that lightens his gray skin. 

“What happened?”

Korm shakes his head. “Something’s screwy here. When I went ethereal, I got this strange queasiness that usually doesn’t happen. The ethereal fog was much thicker than it tends to be, and though I could see the material plane and you guys, it was only up to about thirty feet from me, around half the normal distance. And the fog had these disgusting streaks of purple, green, brown, yellow and other colors I can’t even name. And the ethereal plane normally doesn’t do colors either.”

“Okay, if there’s purple and green it’s some of your Xoriat crap, Nameless,” growls Luna.

“Yes, likely my Xoriat ‘crap,’ as you so eloquently put it,” says Nameless dryly. “What scratched you, Korm?”

“I was getting to that. I wouldn’t have minded all the color and all, if it wasn’t for the fact that when I arrived there, it was without H’ru’dolph. And flat on my back. And with some … what’s the technical term … oh yeah … ugly-ass critter standing right on top of me.”

“Interesting. What did it look like?”

“About 9 feet tall, mostly skeletal, with very little skin and muscle. And in the middle of its chest was this weird little manikin thing, which kept flailing around and looking like it was screaming.”

“Ah! A devourer,” says Nameless. “Extraplanar undead, which inhabit the ethereal and astral planes. They can trap a creature’s essence inside themselves and use it to gain special powers. That’s what the thing in its chest was.”

“So that’s what it was. There was one point when it hit me and I felt this sucking sensation. Then I cut its head off. But not before it scratched and drained me. Then I found H’ru’dolph – he was about a hundred feet away – and came back. Gareth, do you have a _restoration_?”

 The paladin shakes his head. “Sorry. I didn’t prepare one today.”

Six shakes his head and swings his magical haversack off his back. Reaching in, he produces a large wooden case, which is full of pigeonholes, a roll of parchment protruding from each. He runs a large metal finger over the markings that run along the sides of the pigeonholes, muttering to himself. 

“What’s that?” asks Luna.

“My personal organizer. I know I can’t trust you guys to deal with every eventuality, so I took some precautions and brought a lot of scrolls. Now let’s see … cleric spell … fourth level … ah, here we are.” He pulls one out and tosses it to Gareth. “Use this on him. And Korm, you buy me one next time we’re in town.”

“Gladly.” Once the _restoration_ has been used on him, Korm says, “Okay – I’ll try that again.”

“Are you sure?” asks Nameless.

“Why not? What else could go wrong? Actually, don’t answer that.” Korm and his stag disappear again. 

This time, he reappears nearly half an hour later. “I’m back. No problems like last time, but there’s definitely weird stuff going on. Seems like every time you go ethereal you’re pushed in a random direction, since we ended up separated again. But I found him and we headed into the tunnels. They’re fairly large, anywhere from ten feet in height and width to twice that, so Luna should be able to fit through fairly easily. Some look a lot older than others, and there are strange flows in the stone, as if the tunnels were dissolved out of the rock. Lots of caverns in there too. We’ll take a little more time getting through them because there are stone walls blocking off the tunnels at spots, starting from about two hundred feet past that cave entrance.”

“Artificial walls?”

“Yes. And I found the sources too. In one of the caverns I rode through I saw four stonesingers.”

“Stonesingers? What’s that?” asks Gareth.

“A rare form of aberration,” explains Korm, “Looks like a giant scorpion with its body made of flexible stone.” Nameless nods and adds, “They have the ability to affect stone in many ways, including throwing up _wall_s _of stone_.”

“So what’s the singing angle?” Luna inquires.

“They supposedly enjoy music, though not of a human kind. They’ve also got the ability to manipulate sound and blast enemies with it, knocking them out.”

“Yup,” says Korm. “And they can bite with a mouth which is actually in what looks like the scorpion’s tail, and it has a poison that can slowly petrify you. Anyway, as I was saying, I saw four of them in one of the caverns. I kept going and didn’t see any other creatures in the tunnels, but we know there are other powerful aberrations – maybe more stonesingers – in there too. I eventually got to the giant cavern, and just as I’d figured, there’s a city in there, full of stone buildings. Weird-looking as hell, but you already know that. It’s got all sorts of strange fungus growing over it. You’ll see. The middle of the cavern has three giant pillars all the way up to the ceiling fifty feet up. They’re not big enough to be holding it up, and they glow with a purple light, so I’m guessing they’ve got some other reason for being there. The city’s full of dolgrims, probably a couple hundred, and I saw half a dozen dolgaunts in there. A thick stream does run through the cavern, just like I thought, with a couple of stone bridges over it, and there are channels on the far side through which the river runs to the place I think we’re looking for. There’s a giant black building there. About two hundred feet wide and a hundred high. It looks like four giant steps on top of each other, each one set in from the one below.”

“A ziggurat,” says Nameless.

“Whatever. Anyway, the channels run to it and a couple run into it under the only thing that looked like an entrance, a big stone door. But it was shut when I got there.”

“So what was inside? Walls wouldn’t be a problem for you on the ethereal plane.”

Korm shakes his head. “Normally not. But I tried riding through these ones and almost smashed poor R’hu’dolph’s face in. It’s just as much a barrier on the ethereal plane.”

“Interesting.”

“Yeah. And it’s got to be the source of the weird effects on the ethereal. The visibility and sound and color problems were all much worse in the cavern and by the time I got to the, um, ziggurat I could see only about fifteen feet from me. Anyway, I figured I’d seen enough by then and came back.”

“Good choice,” agrees Nameless. “All right, let’s head in there.”

“Yeah,” growls Luna, “I’m bored. I need to kill something today.”

“Yes, Luna – I’m sure you do,” says Nameless. “But let’s be careful in there. We don’t know what other effects the manifest zone has had in the area.”

Korm laughs. “Hey, I just went to the Ethereal plane, lost my ride and had a giant undead with a soul in its chest try to mug me. How much worse could this be?”

* * *
Twenty minutes later…

“Hold on!” hisses Nameless, looking into the cavern ahead of them. “There’s something in there.”

“What?” says Luna, looking around. “I don’t see anything.”

“I’m picking up magical auras from six spots. Four on the ground, two on the walls.” Nameless points at various spots, while continuing, “Two auras in each spot. Faint transmutation and moderate enchantment. And fairly large, about ten feet long each.”

“In that case,” says Korm, “Let’s go in carefully and see what happens.” As he takes a step into the cavern, the floor and walls bulge in the areas Nameless mentioned, rippling and flowing away like water from a surfacing whale. Six large creatures emerge, their large scorpion-like forms identifying them as stonesingers. Each has a dozen legs, ending in claws that seem to be made of crystal, and the front of each is a nest of six long claws mounted on thick, segmented arms like giant worms. Each creature’s “tail” seems to be a long stalk ending in a large lamprey-like mouth surrounded by hooked arms. 

The basis for their name is evident in the haunting, booming song each breaks into as it emerges, but these are quickly replaced by pained shrieks as the Angels attack. Luna’s _flame strike_ and Nameless’ _fireball_ explode around a number of the creatures, burning away large swathes of their stony scales, and then Six and Korm rush in, chain and sword swinging. Gareth flies forward past them, propelled by the Endless Blade, and hacks into another.

One of the stonesingers pauses momentarily in its song, its crystal claws clicking off the stone as it skitters up the side of the cavern, and a wall of smooth stone springs up to block off the lower half of the tunnel that the Angels entered the cavern through, separating Luna and Nameless from the others. The other five stonesingers also abandon their songs, replacing them with ear-shattering shrieks. Korm, Gareth and Six feel the effects of the attacks, waves of sonic energy battering their bodies and minds, intended to stun and incapacitate them. Gareth resists two attacks, and Six (whose modified harness makes him immune to attempts to knock him unconscious) and Korm stoically absorb one each, but the last one is too much for the Gatekeeper. Korm’s sword clatters to the floor and he slumps over after it.

The small victory brings little joy for the creatures. Luna’s snarling visage appears above the _wall of stone_ as she rears up to rest her forepaws on it, and an _arc of lightning_ flashes across the cavern. The empowered electrical blast drops two of the wounded creatures, and Nameless unleashes another _fireball_ to wound a couple of the survivors, this spell emerging from a jet-black staff in his tentacle, etched with arcane runes and topped with a glistening gem. _Definitely worth it_, thinks the alienist, letting arcane energy flow from his prepared spells into the _runestaff of power_ that he spent a small fortune purchasing from the premier magical shop in Sharn. 

Six and Gareth’s continuing attacks quickly drop a third stonesinger, and the other three turn to flee. One grabs the helpless Korm as it goes, and they conjure more _wall_s _of stone_ and one more shattering shriek to cover their retreat. But their enemies have simply too many resources. Magical flight, adamantine weapons, and 15,000 pounds of bear render their barriers useless, and a few seconds later, all six of the stonesingers lie dead. Including one buried halfway in a cavern wall which was not strong enough to resist the Endless Blade. 

Korm, quickly shaking off the effects of the sonic blasts, begins to carve off a large chunk of one of the stonesingers. “What are you doing?” asks Luna.

“I’m going to eat it. Let’s see whether that creates any new powers for me to access.” Korm pauses, thoughtfully. “It’s weird. I know Mordain did this and I should probably feel strange about the idea of eating it, but it just feels right. Plus it might come in handy someday.”

“Forget Mordain!” growls Luna at the reference, “But skin the entire thing. I want those scales.”

“Huh?” asks Gareth. “For what?”

Luna runs a large claw across the corpse, causing the scales to ring rhythmically against each other. “I want some wind chimes!”

* * * 

Another fifteen minutes later…

“Yeah, but Luna,” says Gareth, “You really can’t complain about us teasing you when you make a stone tunnel shake by walking along it.”

Luna stops dead in her tracks and says sweetly, “Does that mean you can’t complain when I roast you inside that armor?”

“That’s not the best argument…”

“Guys?” says Six. “I think the tunnel’s still shak…”

Before the warforged can complete the sentence, a huge creature explodes out of the tunnel beneath the Angels, shoving Luna out of the way and flinging Korm and Gareth away. The upper ten feet of a teardrop shaped body rears up, glistening with slime and ending in two large flat appendages, each armed with a set of thick, blunt claws. The head lacks a mouth and is tipped with one gigantic eye, which glares around wildly. Large purple veins as thick as ropes stand out all over its form.

Nameless’ cry of “Delver!” is almost drowned out beneath the creature’s roar. There are words within the shout, like the sound of rock grating against rock, which only Luna can decipher. It is Terran, the language of the creatures of stone in which she communicates with her earth elementals. The delver roars, “Metal! Give me metal!”

Luna shouts back, “If we give you metal, will you let us pass?” but by then her allies are rushing in to attack. 

Nameless is the quickest, backpedaling away from the delver quickly (even as he notes that it too has an enchantment aura), and summoning a pair of giant earth elementals, since they can partly sink into the stone walls and still attack. Giant rocklike fists slam into the delver’s body – and immediately begin to dissolve at the touch of the slime on its body, melting like mud in a rainstorm. “Watch out for the slime!” Nameless yells. “It dissolves anything it touches – metal, stone and flesh!”

Six, luckily, was bringing up the rear and is some distance away, but Gareth and Korm are too close. Ignoring the earth elementals, the delver unleashes a smashing blow at Korm. The Gatekeeper reflexively parries with his sword and then realizes, too late, the error. The creature’s giant appendage lands on the meteoric blade, coating it with slime. A lesser metal would have melted instantly into sludge. Even the unique metal of Korm’s sword can resist only partially, instantly going soft, the blade flopping limply from the hilt. “NOOOOOOO!!!” 

Gareth’s eyes go wide at the sight and he hurriedly speaks a command word to cause his armor to disappear. _I’m so glad I got that enhancement!_ A shout breaks in on his thought, emanating from the end of his metal hand. “Gareth! Stop f*cking around and get me the f*ck out of here!” the Endless Blade yells. Gareth complies, causing it to disappear into his metal hand. 

Gareth turns to run and a heavy blow slams into his back, hurling him down the cavern. The paladin somehow keeps his feet and continues running, Korm only a step or two behind him, the damaged blade dangling from the Gatekeeper’s fist. Gareth feels the slime left behind by the blow eating into his flesh, but right now he has no intention of pausing to deal with it.

Behind them, the elementals continue to hammer at the delver, now using the stubs that remain of their original arms, driven by the spells that summoned them to fight on even as they dissolve. Luna brings down a _flame strike_ on the creature and swears as it has no effect. 

“Resistance to spells! _Not_ the norm for delvers!” snaps Nameless, seeing his own _magic missile_s wink out useless, before having more luck with a _lightning bolt_ fired at almost point-blank range from his staff. The delver roars in anger and pain, before turning to pulverize what remains of the elementals.

 That gives Luna and Nameless time to retreat, in the direction of Six, who has also hurriedly backed away from the creature whose touch would likely dissolve most of him. The delver turns, glares at them and then sinks back into the hole it emerged from. 

“Is it gone?” asks Nameless, looking around.

“No!” shouts Luna, “It’s beneath us! More elementals – quick!” She hurriedly begins to cast, as does the alienist. As they are completing their spells, the delver roars out of the tunnel floor, looming over Six, who attempts vainly to dodge aside. 

A giant appendage slams down on him – and strikes a huge flaming form that appears between it and the warforged. Four fire elementals ring the creature and pound into it, each of their blows leaving small flames behind which continue to scorch the mottled hide. Though the elementals damage themselves with each blow, unlike their earthen counterparts they do not dissolve easily, and the numbers are too many for the delver. It roars in rage, striking mighty blows, but by the time it has destroyed one assailant its movements are weak and sluggish. The creature tries to sink back underground, but it has left things too late. Three more fiery fists slam down, and it collapses.

“Phew!” says Luna. “You guys clean up here. I’ll check on our heroic swordsmen.” The giant bear lumbers down the tunnel in the direction Korm and Gareth fled. After a few seconds, Nameless and Six hear her scream. With laughter. 

Luna staggers back into sight, giggling hysterically. “What’s so funny?” asks Six. 

“I found them,” Luna gasps, “Sitting out there. Korm was stroking his sword and … and … trying to make it hard, and Gareth … Gareth was making himself wet at the sight!” The bear places both paws over her muzzle and begins to laugh again.

Gareth strides out of the darkness behind her. “Hey! I just used _create water_ to get rid of the slime, okay?” Korm emerges behind him too, not saying anything, looking as if he might actually cry. “Nameless,” says the Gatekeeper, ignoring Luna, “Is there any way you can fix this?”

Nameless studies the sword minutely and then finally shakes his head. “You realize this metal is unique, right? I’ve never seen this kind of effect. My best suggestion right now is a _make whole_ spell. Which is a clerical spell, so I can’t help. Sorry.”

A metallic voice behind them says, “Figures. Sit down.” Six produces his scroll storage case and begins to dig around it. After a few seconds, he produces a scroll. “Gareth – use this.”

The paladin does so, first making Korm lay out the sword blade completely flat on the ground first. Korm studies the sword breathlessly, watching without a word as the soft metal slowly hardens and returns to its adamantine consistency. “Yesss!! Six – I could kiss you!”

“Makes sense,” says Luna with an ursine shrug. “Now that your sword is hard again…,” and dissolves into hysterics again.


----------



## shilsen

Half an hour later…

The Angels look cautiously out of the mouth of a tunnel, gazing at the strange landscape which stretches before them, lit by a dim violet light. There are more tunnel openings in the cave wall beside theirs, emerging onto a ledge from which stone ramps lead down thirty feet to the bottom of an immense cavern.

On the cavern floor sits a strange town*, beginning at the foot of the curving ramps. Gigantic polyps and multicolored fungi up to twenty feet tall interweave with twisted stone structures of various kinds, growing over and covering some of them. Some of the smaller structures are presumably homes, with dolgrims emerging from or entering them. But others are simply edifices with no clear function, such as twisted towers which support nothing and have no obvious entrances. Undulating walls form roads and avenues, some of which lead neatly through the town and others of which seem to have no sense to them. Bizarre statues dot the landscape, mostly of gnarled, tentacled things. A sequence of low red domes towards the far side of the settlement form the outlines of what looks like a gigantic, many-eyed face, and from amongst them three columns of stone reach up to the ceiling like gigantic stalagmites. Each of the pillars is wreathed in unearthly flame, which bathes the central part of the cavern in a nauseating violet light and makes the darkness around its edges deeper. Just beyond the pillars, about four hundred feet from where the Angels stand and at the limits of their vision, is an underground stream, with twisting stone bridges reaching across the thirty foot wide span of water. Channels from it lead into the city and off into the darkness on the far side. The air here has a thick and noxious quality to it, with an underlying taint of rot.

“Just beautiful,” says Six dryly, before looking at Nameless. “You okay?”

The alienist removes his tentacle from the back of his head, where a dull pain has sprung up. “Just my ‘wound’ acting up for a moment. And I can feel the manifest zone. It’s out on that side of the cavern.” He points off into the distance. 

“That’s where the ziggurat is,” says Korm.

“Okay. I’ll just _dimension door_ us over. Luna, you’ll have to change back.”

The bear changes back into Luna’s normal form, but she shakes her head. “Nope. I want to see a little more of this place.” Producing a potion, she says, “I’ve been wanting to use this for a while. I’ll go _gaseous form_ and float over. You guys go ahead.” 

Gareth frowns. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Luna promptly turns back into a bear and sticks her giant tongue out at him. “I didn’t ask you! Don’t be such a party-pooper. Nobody’ll notice me and I won’t attack anyone. Promise!” The bear swigs the potion and quickly dissolves into mist.

Nameless sighs. “Fine! It’ll take you a little while, since you’re slower in that form. Fly up to the ceiling and move along it so there’s little chance of you being spotted. I’ll pop us across in three or four minutes and you can join us.”

The mist flows out of the cave and heads for the cavern ceiling. Korm watches it go and then says, with cheerful pessimism, “You know this is going to go bad, right?”

“Yes,” says Nameless, “But, nevertheless, it doesn’t hurt to try.”

While the others wait, the shifter in giant bear form in _gaseous form_ floats up to the cavern roof and then across over the top of the city. Luna looks down to see more of what she already had, but now her comparatively better vantage lets her notice more about the fungus and the structures. The fungal growths are more widespread than she had originally thought, actually carpeting large swathes of the town and spreading a good twenty feet up the three pillars. It also seems to have combined with the structures in certain places to make them almost seem alive, and in a manner that is more animal than vegetative. In one place, instead of a doorway, a giant forked tongue extends from a building, slowly licking the green growths on its surface. Further along, a two-story tall lung clings to the side of another building, gasping irregularly with a heaving that shakes the entire structure. The walls of another gruesome edifice are alive with four-foot long cilia that wave gently in the air. _This is icky!_ think Luna, with an appreciative shudder of her misty form.

A couple of minutes after Luna has departed, Nameless says, “I’ll pop us across now. Korm, how far away was the ziggurat?”

“About six hundred feet.”

“Okay. I’ll make it five hundred feet then, to be on the safe side. Is the cavern floor approximately at the same height all through? And are there any obstructions?”

Korm shakes his head. “Yes. And nope. Put us five feet above the ground at five hundred and we should be fine.”  

Once the others are ready, Nameless does so. And that’s when things go very, very awry.

Nameless feels a strange sense of dislocation, much stronger than the mild disorientation that accompanies a _dimension door_, and everything goes dark around him. And then there is the tearing pain and sense of being hurled sideways which he recognizes as the result of appearing inside a solid object and being shunted to the nearest open space. 

The alienist stumbles and almost falls as he appears on the cavern floor, emerging from one of the walls. He is looking back at the dolgrim town, still visible in the light of the towers, but the illumination does not extend to his position, so he can only see out to sixty feet in the immediate area. _Where are the others?_ 

A split second later, Korm emerges from the floor of the cavern forty feet away, skin torn and ripped in multiple places. The Gatekeeper ignores the blood running down his chest and arms and growls, “What the hell happened?” 

Nameless shakes his head. “Where are Gareth and Six?” 

Half the question is answered by a startled yell above the two and the appearance of a plummeting Gareth, who slams into the ground between them with bone-shattering force. The paladin rolls over, tries to sit up, falls back and hurriedly lays healing hands on himself. Korm reaches down to lift him to his feet and then begins to heal his own wounds. “Nameless?”

“The manifest zone’s been bleeding over into the area around it, I’m guessing,” says Nameless, “And apparently affecting astral travel too. We each got shifted in a different direction when I moved us. A little deeper and we could have been killed.”

Gareth wipes blood off his face and growls, “You think?”

Nameless doesn’t even look at him, continuing to look around the area, as he snaps, “Shut up, Gareth. You’re alive. Six, I’m not sure about yet.”

As he speaks, there are three sudden flashes of violet light, one from each of the pillars. And a giant roar as Luna appears in her bear form against the roof, some fifty feet behind them, and drops like a stone. 

“Sh*t!” say Nameless, Korm and Gareth simultaneously.

Six has precisely the same thought, being in the perfect position to see Luna drop, having been shunted to a spot some twenty feet below the dolgrim town, about eighty feet from the pillars. Luckily, nobody sees him as he pops out of the floor, and he quickly summons the shadows from his harness. They immediately take on the color and apparent texture of the stone around him, and he begins to make his way stealthily towards the stream. 

Above him, Luna is floating towards the pillars when they suddenly flare with light, and she feels her _gaseous form_ fade away. There’s no time for her to react before she drops, actually smashing a small stone dome to smithereens. Luna rises, bruised and growling, from the rubble, to see what seemed like part of a stone wall near her resolve itself into Six. 

“What happened?” he asks. She shrugs. “Damn pillars _dispel_led me, I think. Why are you here?”

“No idea. Let’s get on the other side first.” Six points at the scores of shouting dolgrims which are heading in their direction, with six or seven dolgaunts among them. “We’ve been noticed.” _Hard to miss a giant falling bear, of course._

“I guess so,” says Luna, looking in the opposite direction. “Look!”

Six turns to see the giant mass of fungus in the area moving. Ripples run through it as the huge carpet of mold flows together, receding off buildings and away from the towers, beginning to roll itself into a giant mass. “That’s not good, whatever it is. Move!” His color changes again and he begins to move towards the stream again. Luna nods, activates her magical belt and begins to _fly_ in the same direction.

Looking behind her, Luna sees that the mass of mold has formed into a rough ovoid some fifteen feet across, which begins to roll slowly after her, growing as it comes. _What the f*ck?_ Apparently the dolgrims are not much happier to see it, slackening their speed at its appearance, but the dolgaunts urge them on and they begin to move forward slowly. Their advance ends in screams as a cloud of ugly green vapor suddenly appears, enveloping the latter end of the giant fungal ball and extending over the leading dolgrims.

“Nameless!” Luna turns to see the flying form of the alienist, the source of the _cloudkill_. Korm flies behind him, borne on large leathery wings like a cloaker’s, as does Gareth, with wide angelic wings extending from his magical tunic. 

“Get a move on!” shouts Nameless, pointing at the fungal mass, which is building up speed as it rolls over the obstructions in its path. Luna waves a paw dismissively as she flies forward. “Relax – I’m flying!” Then, as she flies between two of the pillars, a comically startled look crosses her ursine face and she slaps the paw against her muzzle. Beneath her, Six stumbles and then catches his balance. As they reached the pillars, a wave of nausea enveloped the two. The warforged continues, but moving more slowly and carefully, trying to fight off a desire to void the contents of his stomach. _And I don’t even have a stomach!_

Trying to resist a similar desire, Luna looks back. The giant fungal mass is now twenty feet in width, dwarfing even her huge bulk, and a wide slash divides it almost into two, the segments on either side flapping back and forth like giant lips, pus leaking from between them. A giant tentacle, each another twenty feet in length, now juts from each side, flailing at the air. _Okay, that’s just freaky! Good thing I can still fly faster!_

Apparently the giant creature, whatever it is, realizes the same thing. The two tentacles stop in their flailing for a second and then reach out directly of the creature. There is nothing for them to grab onto, but they curl and flex, as if latching onto thin air. And then the creature hauls itself into the air, pulling itself along with its tentacles faster than Luna can fly.

“Oh, come on!” growls Luna, “That’s not fair!” The bear spins around in mid-air and unleashes a _flame strike_, scorching the creature. The column of magical flame slams down on the target and promptly disappears. “Aaaarrgh!” Luna howls in frustration. “That’s REALLY not fair!”

“Very well. I guess we’re fighting it,” says Nameless, flying closer behind Luna. He swiftly uses the _assay resistance_ spell Saala had taught the Angels on their first meeting, and then hurls an empowered _fireball_, which leaves large blackened patches on the fungal mass. 

“Time to do it old school,” says Korm, raising his sword, as does Gareth. But before they can attack, the giant fungus hurls itself forward. The giant mouth slams shut around Luna’s upper half, leaving her hind-quarters hanging outside. As she kicks at the outside and rips and tears at the inside, Gatekeeper and paladin fly in, slashing wide rips in the fungal surface. Six’s chain scores the creature’s underbelly.

Despite the gaping wounds, the creature’s only response is a muscular flexing of the ‘lips.’ Luna’s legs kick for a moment and then disappear into the huge maw. 

“Better and better!” says Nameless dryly, flying backwards and lashing the creature with more spells, some of which work and others do not. The others continue to hack at it, inflicting more wounds, but some of them are clearly regenerating. It strikes back with brutal force, and a tentacle wraps around Korm and another around Gareth. 

The paladin struggles vainly, helpless in the grasp, sword pinned against his side. With a command, the Endless Blade shrinks into a dagger and he saws at the tentacle, but the damage is too little to affect it. The tentacle rises towards the huge mouth, which gapes in preparation.

Then, just as it prepares to cram Gareth in, the creature stops. Beneath it, Six notices another strange rippling motion in the lower section. The warforged leaps out of the way just as another gash appears, almost as large as the mouth, and a stream of glutinous acidic fluid pours out. Along with fifteen thousand pounds of wet, bleeding, seriously pissed off bear.

“Nobody eats me!” roars Luna, rearing up and tearing at the fungal monster with claws and teeth.

Torn and tattered, her target clearly feels the effects of the assault. It flings Gareth and Korm away and slams both tentacles down on Luna, but the enraged bear ignores them. Then it pivots in mid-air, almost rolling over, and the mouth slams shut on her. A second later, Luna disappears into it again.

“This thing clearly doesn’t learn!” says Nameless, blasting it with a _cone of cold_ from his staff. 

The spell takes effect, and a large part of the surface freezes solid, and then shatters as Korm, Gareth and Six renew their attacks. The creature batters at them for a few seconds, but its blows are clearly slackening in power and effectiveness. Despite its ability to regenerate and incredible size, there is a limit to what the fungal mass can absorb, and this time it has reached the limit. The giant ovoid falls apart as Luna tears herself free again, this time ripping the gargantuan mass into two halves. 

“I said – NOBODY eats me!” Luna shouts, before beginning to rip what remains of the creature into small shreds. When it’s clear that it is dead, she rears up on her hind legs, roaring her rage and defiance. The echoes roll reverberate around the cavern, momentarily drowning out the screams of the dolgrims dying under or fleeing from Nameless’ _cloudkill_. 

“Yes,” says the alienist. “Very impressive, Luna. Now let’s get to the ziggurat.”

The Angels proceed away from the town, the others seeing that Korm was correct about the channels leading away from the stream. They form a network that flows two hundred feet towards an area of the cavern that is much larger than the earlier part, stretching to a height and width well beyond the darkvision of the adventurers. So too does the gigantic ziggurat that the streams converge at. It is made of an incredibly dark purple, almost black, material, very different from the stone in the rest of the cavern.

At first glance, the clean lines and right angles of the structure make it seem very different to the buildings of the town, but closer examination reveals that its sides are festooned with detailed carvings of reptilian and simian monsters wrapped and cradled in endless coils of tentacles. The ziggurat consists of four giant steps, each 25 feet in height and 20 feet in from the lower step. A large and steep ramp rises to a huge rectangular frame on the second level. It is like a very wide doorframe, thirty feet wide and fifteen tall, but blocked by a stone door or wall. Two of the streams of water run up to and under the stone door/wall, ignoring such mundane matters as gravity. Several cracks mar the structure’s masonry, revealing sections of what look like pale green, diseased flesh within. Putrid swathes of mold of a similar shade grow on two of the ziggurat’s sides. In places, great slicks of tacky, dried blood stain the ramp. 

“Looks like a fun place, doesn’t it?” says Korm, heading for the doorway. “Let’s knock.”

. . .

And somewhere far away in the depths of Khyber, a pair of eyes open.

Large lavender orbs, they are set in a face of unearthly beauty, but the effect is marred by what lies around it. The face protrudes from a large glutinous mass of mingled flesh and jelly, glistening darkly with slime. The shapeless form rests in the embrace of a curved stone receptacle that could be a seat or a throne.

A small frown mars the perfect brow, and then it clears. Thin, perfect lips spread slowly, and accompanying ripples run through the gelatinous body. Kyrzin, lord of fungus, master of ooze, smiles.

_The sacrifices have arrived!_


* I took some of the town’s and ziggurat’s description from that of Golismorga in JollyDoc’s Savage Tide SH.


----------



## Rackhir

One thing that didn't come out in the writeup was all of the player's inability to either remember or pronounce Emrena's name. When ever I was talking about her I usually just referred to her as "The Lich" or occasionally "Erma" which led to Shilsen sending this to me.

For various reasons we never got to talk to her (like needing to keep a hand clamped over her mouth to prevent her from dismissing the Anti-Magic Field), but if we had it probably would have gone somewhat like this.



			
				Shilsen said:
			
		

> You know, the worst thing you guys did to her is bastardize
> her name. It's a pity there wasn't any extended conversation
> with her, otherwise I could have put something in the SH like:
> 
> Nameless: So, you see, I don't like Erma here...
> 
> Lich: Emrena.
> 
> Luna: You just don't like Erma because...
> 
> Lich: EM-rena!
> 
> Korm: If Erma hadn't killed you...
> 
> Lich: EM-RE-NA!!!
> 
> Gareth: So, Erma ...
> 
> Lich: AAARRRGGH!!!


----------



## shilsen

The Angels move up to the top of the ramp and study the stone door carefully. There is no sign of anything that allows one to open it. “Nothing magical about it either,” says Nameless. “Six, can you check it for traps?”

The warforged steps forward and carefully studies the blank stone and then turns quickly to the others. “Multiple voices inside. I think spellcasting. And no traps that I can find.”

“I’ll handle this,” says Korm, stepping up to the door, his cloaker-like wings hanging behind him. The Gatekeeper hacks at the door with all his strength, expecting to hew it asunder easily with his meteoric blade. The sword smashes into the dark purple stone and bounces off with a loud ringing, accompanied by orcish cursing as Korm shakes his badly jarred hands. 

Nameless lifts an eyebrow, pointing at the thin crack that has appeared in the door, only about four inches in length, “It’s as hard as adamantine.”

“And opening!” growls Luna, as the door begins to slide upwards smoothly, revealing darkness beyond it.

The darkness that the Angels see appears to bulge outwards through the doorway and is impenetrable to their darkvision, whether it be the natural version that Korm possesses, the divinely granted sight of Gareth, the spell-granted form that Nameless and Luna are currently using, or the type that Six’s third eye gives him. Only Nameless’ _arcane sight_ lets him see something, revealing the magical auras in the area. The darkness is magical, as is an invisible barrier just within it. Multiple auras surround two objects, each low down on the floor and a good forty feet within the chamber, though separated by a fair distance.

“Careful!” shouts Nameless, his inhuman intellect allowing him to comprehend and interpret all of this data instantly, “It’s a _blacklight_ spell, impossible to see through. And there’s a magical wall in the doorway, probably causing a _dispel magic_ if you hit it.” As he speaks, his hands are already in motion, and he follows with the arcane syllables that drop a _greater dispel magic_ in the area. 

The _blacklight_ spell instantly disappears (as does the _wall of dispel magic_, revealing the inside of the ziggurat, lit by a dim purple radiance. The floor within is smooth, made of the same stone as the rest of the ziggurat. Five foot wide channels run through the area, carrying the water brought in by the two streams running up the ramp. Two heads protrude over the edges of these channels, each of them roughly human-like in shape, but with crudely anthropoid features topped with lanky strands of wet hair. Their eyes are invisible, with a thick band of blackness forming a mask over them. Long snakelike necks connect the heads to ophidian bodies, marked with purple and black stripes, whose coils are barely visible as they flow back and forth. Long fangs and forked tongues are visible, as the revealed nagas hurriedly speak the words of various spells. 

_An _ebon eyes_ spell!_ thinks Nameless, identifying the black masks as the manifestation of a spell allowing the nagas to see through the magical darkness. Almost as an afterthought, he channels arcane energy through his _ring of greater counterspelling_, snuffing out the first naga’s spell before it can form. Unfortunately, the alienist can block only one spell, and the second naga completes its casting undeterred, and another _blacklight_ envelops the Angels.

“Somebody _dispel_ it!” shouts Nameless. “They can see through the darkness!”

The painful proof of his words follows a second later as a third, hitherto unseen, naga casts a _scintillating sphere_, placing it so as to strike all of the Angels. Its effects maximized by the aberration caster, the spell blasts them painfully with electrical energy. Only Six, who had just used his harness to grow to double his normal size, manages to throw himself aside at the last moment. A second later, another _wall of dispel magic_ springs up at an angle in front of the group, as a fourth naga casts its spell.

“On it!” growls Luna angrily and _dispel_s the new _blacklight_, to now reveal four nagas, two more having swum through the channels to join their companions.

“Me too!” says Gareth, seeing enemies who he considers easy prey if he can only get close to them. The angelic wings protruding from his back flap as he darts through the doorway, calling to the Silver Flame.

Six shouts, “No! Gareth…,” but it is too late. The warforged, as well as Luna and Korm, has heard the sounds of heavy breathing from either side of the doorway, indicating the presence of more enemies within, but there has been no time to warn of it. And now, by the time he can do so, Gareth is already inside.

The paladin’s _ring of counterspells_ does its work, negating the magical _wall_’s attempt to remove his magical protections, and then he is on the nearest of the nagas, the Endless Blade flashing down in a deadly arc. The target desperately tries to sink down into the channel, but its magical protections and the physical barrier of the water do little as the paladin smites it. The naga screams as Gareth cuts it almost in half, thrashing around in agony. A second later, an empowered _arc of lightning_ shoots through its body and that of its two nearest nagas. While the others gasp and hiss at the shock, the already wounded naga sinks dying beneath the water.

“Yes!” shouts Korm at his spell’s success, and then his eyes widen in surprise as the hidden enemies now reveal themselves. A huge figure, filling fully half the thirty foot wide doorway, shambles into sight. The brutish, tusked face, with its powerful and hide-armored body, a third arm extending from its chest to match the other two that grow from its shoulders, all identify the creature as an athach. As it emerges, the middle arm swings a large club, smashing into Korm’s side and hurling him sideways. Unluckily, the stone lintel of the doorway clips his shoulder, knocking him off his feet.

Gareth’s situation is even more dire than the Gatekeeper’s. In entering, he has seen that there is not one, not two, but three waiting athachs. One charges him, smashing the paladin backwards. But unlike Korm, Gareth stands on the edge of a channel, and the blow knocks him over its edge. With a startled cry, Gareth tumbles into the water, still red from the dead naga’s blood. Chest deep in water, in no position to defend himself, he looks up to see the third athach loom over him, its three clubs hammering down again and again.

_Idiot!_ “Luna – summon something! Something big!” shouts Nameless, firing an emerald green ray at the nearest naga. To his disgust, the creature resists the _disintegrate_, taking only a shallow wound, and a swift volley of _magic missile_s has no effect either. Nameless hurriedly rises above the doorway, so as not to provide a target. 

Six, now twelve feet tall and proportionately broad, is thinking precisely the same thing, and he quickly descends some way down the ramp, his slashing chain laying open the chest of the athach in the doorway as a parting gift. 

Unfortunately for Korm, he is in no position to get out of the way, and before he can regain his feet, he hears the nagas casting more spells. A lance of sonic energy smashes into his head, causing him to see stars. Korm shakes his head, desperately attempting to clear his blurry vision, and looks up, only to see two snowy globes of magical cold shooting at him. Both of them hit and the Gatekeeper drops, blood from his wounds slowly pooling around him.

Inside the ziggurat, Gareth sees the third naga turn to him. Its visage twists cruelly in anticipation as it hisses a spell, serpentine body writhing to provide the accompanying gestures, and an empowered _orb of force_ leaps at him. The battered and beaten paladin takes it right in the chest. Without a word, he collapses, sinking below the surface of the bloodstained water. 

And suddenly, there are only three of the Angels, two of them seriously hurt, facing six enemies. Luna – who has been wanting to rush in – swears and decides to follow Nameless’ order and even the odds. Moving away from the door, so as not to make herself a target, she casts a spell. Deep within her the shifter feels her beast spirit, the embodiment of her feral heritage, lending her its strength, and this allows her to complete the casting in half the time another druid might take. A huge humanoid form of animated rock appears in the doorway, hammering at the athach in front of it. 

The nagas scream commands in a language none of the Angels speak, and the other athachs move to engage the giant elemental, bashing wildly at it with their clubs. Despite its incredible resilience, the lone creature cannot long withstand their assault, and large cracks spread across its form. 

But the couple of seconds it buys are crucial. Nameless descends slightly so that he can see past the doorway and casts his own spell. Reality shifts and Kha’tvan’ga, the Horror from beyond, responds to his master’s call. Its mind-bendingly terrifying shape appears over one of the nagas, its tentacles lashing down to rip and tear. 

The embattled naga screams in a combination of pain, surprise and fear, hurriedly casting a spell to attempt to _dispel_ the creature. Unknown to it, Kha’tvan’ga’s pact with Nameless is resistant to such mundane magic, and the Horror will not depart until the duration of the alienist’s spell ends. Or death comes to it, though it will always reform and can be summoned again later. The _dispel_ washes over it uselessly, as does the blast of sonic energy with which another naga attacks. 

The third decides that the summoner is a better target and hurls another _scintillating sphere_, aiming for the area beyond the doorway. It explodes, blasts of electricity forking out to strike Nameless and the elemental in the doorway. The alienist restrains a scream, barely hanging on to consciousness* and almost falling from the air. Six, having evaded the blast again, shouts angrily, “Nameless! You idiot! Get out of the doorway!” 

“Get to me!” shouts Luna. Six nods and his chain leaps out – to wrap around Nameless’ leg with incredible precision, not a single barb touching his skin. He flicks his wrist, now _enlarge_d to the size of a burly man’s arm, and the surprised alienist is hurled sideways towards Luna. Even that is too much for Nameless’ wavering consciousness and his vision blurs and begins to darken, before he feels the unforgettable sensation of a giant bear’s tongue slapping wetly against his face, and healing energy flow into him. Though it is not much, Luna being unable to quicken one of her more powerful spells, it is enough to bring the alienist back to functionality.

Six looks into the ziggurat, knowing that his companions cannot do so from where they are, and calls a warning. “We just lost the elemental!”

“Not for long,” grits Nameless, casting quickly, as does Luna. The result, for the nagas and athachs, is a very rude surprise. Having disposed of the elemental, they are turning their attention to the Horror, when three more elementals, one huge and two large, block the doorway.

A barrage of magical orbs and spheres, all of them maximized for optimal damage, and the pounding of the athachs’ clubs smashes through elemental after elemental, but it buys the Angels a moment’s breathing space, since at least they are not being targeted. Nameless and Luna summon as they have never summoned before**, pouring more allies into the ziggurat. On the opposite side, the nagas and athachs fight back with grim determination, absorbing the wounds the elementals inflict, _dispel_ling a few and destroying others as they emerge.

The issue remains in doubt for only seconds, but it seems like hours, both sides pushing themselves to the limit. Nameless draws upon reserves he didn’t know he had, pouring arcane energy into his spells and through his magical items. His ring, though devoid of energy, weakly flashes into life as sheer desperation and an incredible will combine to fuel it, interrupting a maximized _scintillating sphere_ which would have ended the battle for Luna and him, if not Six. The already wounded alienist feels his remaining life energy fading quickly, as he utilizes it to fuel magical feats that should be impossible, recasting spells he has expended, calling forth more powerful creatures than he should be able to now***. As he staggers back and forth in mid-air, Luna pauses again and again in her own casting to channel healing energy into him, barely keeping him conscious. Six buys them more time, dodging and weaving on the ramp, chain constantly slashing into the athachs.

Slowly, the sheer persistence of Nameless and Six and the healing power of Luna, make the difference. The summoned creatures begin to overtax the aberrations’ abilities to cope, and the athachs fall one by one, leaving the nagas facing multiple elementals, gigantic beetles and a badly wounded but still present Kha’tvan’ga. In desperation, the nagas focus on those outside, leaving themselves open to attacks in order to be able to reach the Angels with their spells, and inflict substantial wounds. Luna, impatiently moving forward to be able to summon her elementals inside the ziggurat, takes a magical barrage, only surviving because her beast spirit channels a previously prepared healing spell into her as the nagas’ spells hit, so that her wounds result in unconsciousness, not death****. Six, despite his caution and the cover from the ramp, suffers significant wounds too. 

But the result is now certain, and after just over a minute of bloody battle, the Angels stand victorious, looking into a ziggurat absolutely awash with gore. Luna wipes blood off her face and rises from studying Korm’s supine form. “That was close!”


* He was down to 0 hp. If he had dropped, the fight would have been a TPK, since Korm and Gareth were below -10 and Luna can’t summon enough alone to be able to keep the enemy at bay. 

** Between them they summoned close to 20 creatures over the course of the fight.

*** Nameless burned through a bunch of swashbuckling cards to allow another counterspell and to recast spells he already had, taking Con damage to do so, with only a couple of quickened spells from Luna keeping him up.

**** That was very close. The players had run out of swashbuckling cards so the damage would have actually killed Luna, when I remembered that one of her beast spirit abilities is to hold one spell in reserve and cast it as a swift action when needed. She had earlier put a Cure Moderate in there and that was enough to keep her in negatives rather than past -10. I really am a sugar daddy.


----------



## shilsen

Six grunts angrily, looking down at his superstructure, where mangled metal mingles with scorched wood and leaking alchemical fluid, “Too close! That attack was far too reckless and foolish. If we’d done it smart, we should have walked away without a scratch – or at least a lot fewer scratches. Mordain’s work may have helped us survive many things we shouldn’t have, but we can’t just count on it. Especially once we’re in the Mournland, where you four can’t heal during a fight. We’ve got to be smarter!”

Nameless, feeling the smart of his own wounds, says, “Fine. When we’re in the Mournland and get in a fight you can pick the strategy and we’ll all listen to you. Now let’s get inside.”

The Angels revive Korm and Gareth, Mordain’s modifications having kept both alive, with the paladin’s _necklace of adaptation_ having prevented him from drowning in the interim. Having done so, they examine the room thoroughly. One hundred and sixty feet long and broad, it is crisscrossed by the channels which the nagas swam through, and is absolutely bare otherwise, except for the same cyclopean and ophidian carvings on the walls as on the outside. A simple lever controls the opening and closing of the stone door, and Six discovers that there is a particular carving outside, manipulating which does the same. A set of stairs lead up to the level above, and Six soon discovers a hidden trapdoor leading to stairs leading below. With Nameless confirming that the manifest zone is below them, the Angels descend cautiously.

The bottom level – one hundred and eighty feet long and broad – is almost bare too, except for a simple stone structure like a cactus, with multiple arms, and two streams running down from the top level, which flow to form an X shape through the center of the room. There is a shimmer in the air over the central one hundred and twenty feet of the chamber, extending to a height of about twenty feet, which resembles a heat haze. “And that,” says Nameless, “Would be the manifest zone.”

The Angels descend and walk up to the shimmer, studying it carefully. “Do you think it’s safe?” asks Gareth. 

“Probably,” says Nameless, “But in view of the sort of powerful effects it has had in the area, and the unanswered question of what the existence of the seed may be doing to it, we should exercise cauti…”

At which point Luna sticks her muzzle in it, though perhaps with some hesitation, since she seems to slow down considerably as soon as her nose enters it.

Nameless sighs. “Or we could let Luna shove her head in it. What does it feel like, Luna?”

Luna replies, “I…t      f…e…e…l…s      k…i…n…d…,” her lips moving extremely slowly.

“Why are you talking like that?” asks Korm.

Luna pulls out, again slowly, and then shakes her head. “I wasn’t. I was talking normally, but it came out like that. And it feels almost solid, since when I moved my head in and out, I felt strong resistance. Like moving through one of your _solid fog_ spells, Nameless. Oh, and I felt smarter somehow.”

Nameless looks thoughtful. “I think I know what it is. Time on Xoriat is different to time in our world, moving at one-tenth our speed, so a minute here is six seconds there. The zone must be manifesting similar time. And that’s very unusual. That would be a likely manifestation of the seed being present in our world. As for the smarter angle, I’m not sure what you mean or what that could be.” 

“One way to find out,” says Luna, before stepping bodily into the manifest zone. Of course, due to the fact that whatever part of her enters slows down considerably, the process takes longer than it should, and involves the others having the unenviable sight of Luna’s hindquarters jiggling and flattening themselves as they move forward substantially faster than the preceding parts of her body.

Once inside, Luna walks back and forth for a little bit, seeming to do so in slow motion to her companions, before a broad ursine grin slowly spreads across her face. She returns to the edge and exits. “It makes me a better spellcaster. I’m sure of it. If I stayed in here and prepared spells I could cast an _earthquake_. And that would be awesome!”

“What?”

After some experimentation and all having entered the manifest zone, the Angels confirm that Luna is correct. Being inside the zone does boost their powers somewhat, leading to improved spellcasting ability, access to more power spells, and other such abilities. The downside, unfortunately, is that one immediately loses the increased abilities on leaving the zone*. And since time does flow much more slowly inside the zone, at a rate of about one-fifth the passage of time outside, resting and preparing spells in there would mean days of time passing in the world beyond. 

“One thing’s for sure,” says Nameless, once they have finished experimenting with the area, “These are very unusual results. I’m growing increasingly certain that it’s due to the seed.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” grumbles Luna. “I want my _earthquake_ spell. Why can’t I have it outside the area? That’s not fair!”

“It’s a manifest zone, Luna. It just is what it is. Fair isn’t a factor. I’m fairly certain that spending significant amounts of time inside leads to an increase in one’s powers, which probably explains why those damn nagas and athachs were that tough.” 

“Power is useful,” says Gareth, “But will this place warp us like what we have seen of Gurr’khan? If so, where is the safety point?” 

The alienist shrugs, “If you spend sufficient time here, especially within the manifest zone – yes, it probably will. As far as how far is safe – who knows?”

“I am not keen on increasing my abilities at the cost of my humanity.” He grins at Nameless, “That is what we have you for. I do not think we should stay here a moment more than absolutely necessary for us to do any research we need. The ill effects that this place causes are not worth the temporary benefits. If need be, let us rest and prepare spells at home and _teleport_ here to cast any necessary spells.”

“Actually, I’m quite beginning to like this place,” says Nameless. “It has all sorts of magical defenses, even against ethereal and astral movement apparently, and that can only benefit us. And we could use another house, remember?”

“Yeah!” Luna growls, deeply and menacingly, “That reminds me, I need to go back to Sharn and rip out…”

“Maybe we should go check the rest of the place,” says Korm hurriedly, gesturing at Nameless from behind Luna.

“But I…,” begins Luna, before Korm quickly adds, “And there might be treasure and gems and other shiny things.” Then, as Luna turns and rushes for the stairs, he nods and follows her.

When the Angels return to the level above, the first thing they notice is the lack of blood. There is not a trace of blood on floor, walls or ceiling, though very copious quantities of it was spilt and had been everywhere only minutes ago. Every bit of blood from the nagas, the athachs, and even Gareth where he fell, is gone. Even the quantity spilt outside by Korm, Luna and Nameless is gone. 

“Did someone come in here and remove it?” asks Gareth, sword in hand.

“No,” says Six, pointing at the corpses which still remain. “It’s the blood that was spilled on any part of this place. See, there’s still blood on the corpses.” He picks up a naga’s corpse and turns it over. “See, the blood on it that touched the stone is gone.”

“Hmm – that’s not the kind of self-cleaning I like,” says Luna, frowning  at the walls around her, before shrugging. “Now let’s go up and find some treasure!”

The Angels proceed up the stairs and, over the course of the next half an hour, discover that there are two levels above. The third level is divided into many large rooms, some apparently used by the nagas and the athachs, but most of them empty and bare. The uppermost level is divided by partitions into a maze, but there is no indication of its purpose either. “This is weird,” says Korm. “Almost no possessions, no indication of what they did here. It’s almost as if they were just sitting here and waiting for something.”

“Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing right now,” says Nameless. “Tomorrow I’ll attempt a _legend lore_ on this place. But for now, let’s go check on the dolgaunts and dolgrims.” He smiles grimly. “We need to let them know the ziggurat is under new management.”

The town, however, turns out to be completely deserted now, except for the twenty or so dolgrim corpses that show where the _cloudkill_ passed. Or deserted of dolgrims and dolgaunts, to be precise. The giant fungi growing all over the place, and the other organic components to the structures, are still present. The Angels discover all sorts of unusual fungus here, some of it ambulatory, some of it a weird amalgam of plant and animal parts, and a couple of species which seem predatory. It is unclear exactly how the giant creature that formed and attacked Luna relates to the others, but the gigantic patch it came out of is already growing back slowly, though it will probably take weeks to reach the thickness it originally had. Luna ensures that will take more time by the simple expedient of setting a large section of it on fire.

“You know,” Nameless wonders aloud, “Maybe it would be a good idea to transplant some of the larger fungi to other parts of the world, since that would give the more powerful druids access to this place with a _transport via plants_.” 

Gareth looks at the alienist as if he’s gone insane. “May I just point out that these plants are,” he begins to count off on his fingers, “1 – grown by aberrations, 2 – warped by a manifest zone, and 3 – just icky. You really want to put them in the world outside?”

Korm says, “I’ve got to agree with Gareth. These fungi are seriously wrong. And take that from someone who ate parts of two different aberrations today.”

“Fine, fine,” says Nameless. “Let’s check those pillars out.”

Now that he is in range Nameless confirms that they are heavily magical. Experimentation reveals that they detect and react to certain things in the area. Three of the primary things they detect are anything flying more than fifty feet off the ground, anything invisible, and anything with strong magical auras on it. In each case, they react with a bright purple flash and target the triggering creature or creatures with a _dispel magic_ from each pillar. This ability evidently resets after ten minutes. Curious to see if the effect is triggered by spellcasting, Luna casts a spell in their vicinity, but the pillars do not respond. 

After having examined the fungi and the pillars, the Angels return to the ziggurat. As they walk back up to the door, Korm points at the crack he put in it. “Is it just me, or is that crack smaller than it was?”

Six looks at the crack, now only about half its original size. “No, it’s not just you.” The warforged turns to Gareth. “Why don’t you try to _detect evil_ and _thoughts_ in this area and on the ziggurat?”

Gareth hesitates and then nods, “All right.” He concentrates and his eyes glow with silver light. Instantly, to his complete lack of surprise, he _detect_s a strong evil aura on the ziggurat. Gareth turns slowly, scanning the area around him. The aura of evil permeates the area, but its strength diminishes slightly as he looks away from the towering structure before him. “Let me try something,” Gareth says, walking away from the ziggurat, continuing to _detect_ for evil. As the distance increases, so does the power of the aura diminish, till it is only of moderate strength when he reaches the stream.

The paladin walks back to the others and explains what he discovered. “And now for the next one.” When he attempts to _detect thoughts_, he detects no presence of thought in the ziggurat. At least for a couple of seconds, before he has the mental equivalent of standing on the beach in the surf up to one’s knees, and having a giant breaker appear and roll over one in a single second. All that Gareth is certain of is that there is a hugely powerful and alien consciousness inside the ziggurat. He also has the impression that it is both quiescent and completely unaware of his presence. He cannot ascertain anything else, since the contact snaps off instantly, but he has no reason to complain about it. If there is one thing Gareth is quite certain about from the instant of contact, it is that a longer duration would probably have rendered him completely insane. 

As it is, Nameless now knows what he looks like after contacting Cyäegha, since Gareth lands flat on his back, blood leaking out of nose and ears. And feeling as if his brain were about to run out through those orifices too**. 

Nameless looks at him with mock-solicitousness, “So, was it purple for you too, Gareth?” 

Gareth, trying to stand up, ignores him, muttering indistinctly, “Let’s not do that again.” 

As Korm moves to help him, Luna says brightly, “Let’s make him sit in the manifest zone.” Gareth shouts, “NO!” and then grabs his aching head. “I don’t feel that good.” He describes what it was he just experienced.

_Interesting._ Hoping that Gareth doesn’t bring up the fact that he was the one who made the suggestion to _detect thoughts_, Six quickly says, “Maybe it’s some form of possession. Maybe you should try to use your abilities as an exorcist. After moving away from the ziggurat, of course.”

Gareth nods and moves away, accompanied by the others. Once near the stream, he calls on the Silver Flame and attempts to purge any possessing influence on himself, but there is no change. “Nameless, do you have any idea what could heal this effect? A _restoration_?”

“I’m not sure,” says Nameless. “Perhaps we can find out tomorrow with the right divinations. Now let’s go inside and get some rest.”

“I’m not going to stay in there all night!” protests Gareth.

“You want to stay outside alone? Because I’m staying inside, and I think everyone else will be. I need to study the carvings.” 

“All right,” says Gareth, grumpily. “Spending the night in an evil, brain-sucking ziggurat built by aberrations on top of a manifest zone which warps people is just what I’ve always wanted to do.”


* Rackhir has been talking about getting access to Mind Blank for a long time, so I provided a way for him to do so. The fact that it only works inside a 120 ft wide area was purely coincidental and plot-based and has absolutely nothing to do with me being a sadistic bastard who enjoys giving his players hope and then jumping on it with hob-nailed boots. 

** He took a 4 point penalty to Int and Wis too.


----------



## carborundum

Awesome - was that all one session!
Great choice of adversaries, those naga were nasty! I've never used, or even studied, athacs or delvers before - getting some great ideas here!

And you made my day with the 11 page word document I had in my bag with the mammoth update in it! (I'd missed the Jan 1st posts too)


----------



## Rackhir

carborundum said:
			
		

> Awesome - was that all one session!
> Great choice of adversaries, those naga were nasty! I've never used, or even studied, athacs or delvers before - getting some great ideas here!




Glad to hear you enjoyed it. It was a real nail bitter of a session.

Yes, it was probably the most combat we've ever had in one session aside from the Emerald Claw temple assault in Karnath and that was mostly low level fights aside from two fights at the end. 

It was really the Athacs that were killing us. The naga's were nasty and their spells did most of the damage, but because of the athacs we couldn't get to them and the athacs were doing enough damage to drop pretty much any of us in a single round. So we couldn't get in there to go after the nagas. The athacs were advanced in HD and had a single level of barbarian, both of which synergize extremely well. Combine them with some heavy caster support and a near TPK was the result. Luna, Korm and Gareth were all down. Nameless was barely hanging on with like 3 hp. Even Six (who often manages to walk away without a scratch) had sustained a fair amount of damage.

Things probably would have been different, if we hadn't burned all of our other direct damage spells in the three earlier fights. Since we could have pounded the Naga's directly and they weren't nearly as tough as the Athacs. 

I was in fact going to burn Nameless's summon for Kha’tvan’ga when we were fighting the plant creature (An advanced Tendriculos with the pseudonatural template, IIRC). Which probably would also have resulted in a TPK, since it's spell resistance negated almost all of the spells it was hit with and that sucked up a lot of potential damage. But Shil did talk me out of that (the plant creature was a lot closer to dead than I was under the impression it was).

Oh the Delver also had the Pseudonatural template as well. Thus the "abnormal" Spell resistance.


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> Awesome - was that all one session!
> Great choice of adversaries, those naga were nasty! I've never used, or even studied, athacs or delvers before - getting some great ideas here!
> 
> And you made my day with the 11 page word document I had in my bag with the mammoth update in it! (I'd missed the Jan 1st posts too)




Yeah, it was all one session. And definitely the most combat we've had in a session. As Rackhir noted, the fight in the temple in Karrnath may have had more fights numerically (7, to be precise), but a lot less time was spent in combat, since most of those fights were vs. mooks who lasted 1 round. We tend to average only 1 fight a session, so the ones with the multiple fights stand out.

Here's what they ran into:

1 - One huge 22 HD advanced semi-pseudonatural delver (EL 13)

2 - Six large 15 HD advanced stonesingers (CR 9 each, i.e. EL 14)

3 - One gargantuan 25 HD advanced pseudonatural tendriculos with flight ability (EL 14)

4 - Three athach Bbn1 (CR 9 each) and four water naga Sor3 (CR 10 each) (EL 15)

I use the spontaneous metamagic 3/day rule from UA which lets prepared casters apply metamagic on the fly (and makes Nameless, Luna and Korm much scarier) without an increase in casting time and doesn't use higher level spell slots. So I give sorcerers a benefit to make up for the loss of spontaneous metamagic. When they apply a metamagic feat, it's capped by 1 less than it is for prepared casters. So a wizard capable of casting 5th lvl spells can empower a 3rd lvl spell, but a sorcerer capable of casting 5th lvl spells can empower a 4th lvl spell. 

This meant the nagas, though only capable of 5th lvl spells vs. the PCs' 7th lvl max, were slinging Maximized Scintillating Sphere (60 hp dmg, Ref half), Empowered Orb of Acid/Electric (52 hp dmg), Maximized Hailstones (2 touch attacks of 30 dmg each) and Maximized Sound Lance (80 hp dmg, Fort half). Even with the hit pts the PCs have, that could drop them very fast.



			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> I was in fact going to burn Nameless's summon for Kha’tvan’ga when we were fighting the plant creature (An advanced Tendriculos with the pseudonatural template, IIRC). Which probably would also have resulted in a TPK, since it's spell resistance negated almost all of the spells it was hit with and that sucked up a lot of potential damage. *But Shil did talk me out of that* (the plant creature was a lot closer to dead than I was under the impression it was).




See how kind I am? 

Actually, I've always had issues with DMs not giving PCs any info about the state of their enemies, and Nameless would have worked out that it was significantly weakened. Having to give birth to Luna (twice!) will do that to you.


----------



## shilsen

And here's the next one. Two segments, as usual...

* * * * * * * * * *
The next morning, Nameless announces that while the carvings on the ziggurat include few words, and some of them are impossible for him to decipher without more time, he has found a constant term which he is fairly certain is what the makers of the ziggurat called it (or the area as a whole) – R’lyeh.

He then proceeds to cast a _legend lore_, attempting to learn more about the structure. When he finishes, his eyes go milky white for a few seconds, and he finds himself reciting, in an unusually deep voice: “Stone brought from beyond the stars, mortared of sorrow and liquid pain, touched by the warper of flesh and master of ooze, the dark altar waits. Blood it seeks and blood it dreams of, in its ancient, abysmal, uninvaded sleep. That is not dead which can eternal lie. When the final sacrifice is made, when ichor of its aberration creators and blood of their druid enemies mingle to feed it, then will the stars be right. The ancient walls shall be broken and the keys turned. And R’lyeh shall arise, and the future shall be written in blood.”

Nameless stops and looks at the others. “That confirms or tells us a few things. This entire thing is a giant altar, more than a temple, which explains why it absorbs blood, though not how. And Kyrzin, who I’m certain is the warper of flesh and master of ooze, built it or contributed to its construction. It’s intended to help in awakening something. And apparently the final sacrifice that was needed involved aberrations and their druid enemies – presumably the Gatekeepers – bleeding on its stone. Which happened yesterday.” He grimaces a little and continues, dryly, “As usual, the forecast is very good.”

Six says thoughtfully, “The line you said mentioned the blood of aberrations and of the druids ‘mingling to feed it,’ right?”

“Yes.”

“I was just thinking that with the changes that Mordain did to us, and Korm actually wearing one of those aspects he does, we’ve got people in this group who have more mingling of aberration and druid blood than probably anyone in the history of Eberron. Maybe that’s what the nagas were sitting and waiting for – us!”

“See, Korm,” says Luna, “I told you eating that crap would screw you up!”

Korm, already smiling grimly at the news, shrugs. “Says the woman who has two aberrations _inside_ her. I think you count for mingling of aberration and druid blood too.”

“Symbionts are _not_ aberrations!” Luna says indignantly. “They’re harmless. And helpful. And cute!”

Gareth sighs. “You know, being cute does not automatically remove every negative quality something has. But it probably explains something about you and gnomes.” He glances at Nameless. “What are you grinning for?”

Nameless, who actually was smiling thinly, does grin now. “I was just thinking, at least _this_ end of the world won’t be my fault!”

“I’m so happy for you! Anyway, my turn now. I’m not feeling any better than I did yesterday.” Gareth uses an _augury_ to ask whether a _limited wish_ could improve his condition. The answer, unfortunately, is “Nothing.” 

“What does that mean?” asks Luna.

“It means either my spell didn’t work,” replies Gareth, “Or a _limited wish_ will not have either a positive or a negative result. Nameless, could you use one on me anyway?”

“I’d really rather not,” says Nameless. “It will drain me somewhat and your spell provides no indication that it would work. Your affliction seems to be similar to what a failed _contact other plane_ causes, in which case you’d need a _greater restoration_.”

“A what? We don’t know anyone who could pull one of those off!”

“Maybe you could ask your Keeper of the Flame. We will be visiting her tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, but I can hardly meet the head of my Church and say, ‘Hi, Jaela – could you restore me?’!”

“Keep saying that and maybe it’ll get better with practice.”

Luna interrupts at this point, with the words which usually send shivers down her companions’ backs, “I’m bored. And I’m leaving. You guys can come along too, of course. I have things to do.”

Six asks cautiously, suspicious of the anticipatory grin on her face. “Where are you going?”

“Back to Sharn. Payback’s a bitch, baby! And she has a _control weather_ ready now. I’m going to form a blizzard right on top of our district. A blizzard miles wide. Which will sit there and rain snow and cold on them Now they’re going to pay!” She dances a few steps in pleasure.

Six looks at Korm. “Can she actually do that?” The Gatekeeper nods and shrugs. “She’s Luna!” Which really does seem to say it all.

The warforged turns back to the world’s largest dancing bear. “Luna, you can’t just drop a blizzard over half of Sharn. Think of the damage that it’ll do. And you don’t even know who was really behind our eviction, so you don’t know who to affect. Why don’t you wait and find out who it was and do something more precise – like training birds to take a cr*p on them.”

“That’s okay,” says Luna confidently. “The blizzard will be so big that it’ll cover our entire district, so I’ll definitely get the bastards who wanted me out. It’ll be awesome!”

Nameless, who has had his head in his hands at Luna’s announcement, looks up. “And that means you’ll get even more people who had nothing to do with it. You are not going to wreak havoc on the innocent people in Sharn. Either figure out a way to annoy the people who are responsible for this and only them or give this up. Follow Six's suggestion and train birds to sh*t on them when they’re walking around. It will ruin their clothes and make them spend money on cleaning them.” 

Gareth adds his voice to Nameless’. “He’s right. This storm will hurt many – especially the poor who do not have the resources to withstand such an event. You need to find a way to make your actions focused only on the people who negatively affected us. Plus the Deneith members are hired warriors. Actually, all of those who evicted us are hired by someone higher up. The people who did the actual hurting are those who complained and those who signed the papers. Those who showed up to our home were just doing their jobs – even the dwarf Kestran.”

Luna scowls. “Don’t be trying to confuse me with words! They could have refused if they knew it was wrong! Which they did! Just following orders is not good enough! It’s divine retribution. I am merely acting as an instrument of the gods! It’s a storm of righteous justice! Which Sharn desperately needs!” She waves her paws wildly as her excitement grows, like a giant hairy prophet of doom. “The blanket of white will prime the canvas for a new, more just, Sharn! Those people threw me out of my house in winter! Without my things! While I’m pregnant! After I just fixed it up! And I was going to have a house warming party for them! And everything! I was going to serve food and everything! I have a bottomless mug of beer! And now it will always be winter there ... just like in their little cold hearts!”

Korm mimics beating his head on the closest wall of the ziggurat. “Luna – you’re wearing more valuable things than most nobles can afford. You can change the climate as you wish and walk through a volcano with the right preparation. I don’t think the ‘poor, barefoot and pregnant in the cold’ argument really works.”

Luna has the grace to look just the slightest bit embarrassed at Korm’s point, and Six quickly puts in, hoping that she might see sense, “And if you go on this path you will blow it with the Prince and anyone else of note. No one is going to want to be with a psycho that casually kills countless unknown people just to annoy the few that slighted her.”

Unfortunately, Luna being abashed lasts only a second or two. She snorts. “I won’t kill them – just make them cold. I’ll center the blizzard outside Sharn, so only a few districts will be affected. And if you’re so worried about the cold, then I will reduce it to gale-force winds and put them higher so as to affect only our old neighborhood. It’s not as satisfying, but I’m willing to be nice. So there!” She waves her paws at the rest of the group. “I don’t even know how you all can run off and not deal with our own personal affairs! Something from Xoriat will always be about to bust through, but this is important! They think they can just throw us out and get away with this, and you want to let them!”

“We do have more important things to do,” persists Six, beginning to get annoyed, “And we’re thinking a little more long-term than you. If you do this, we lose all assets in Sharn. Sharn’s investigators are more than competent. They will know who did it and seize all our assets; the house, bank accounts, pending magic items and whatever else they can grab. And they may be able to lay claim to our assets outside of the city too.” 

Gareth nods and mutters sadly, “And unfortunately, considering how famous we are, I won’t even be able to say that I do not know this crazy woman and have never had any relations with her.” Then he says, more loudly, “Seriously, Luna – don’t do this. Making thousands of innocent people suffer just to feed your need for revenge is not just insane, it’s evil.”

Six continues, “And we did address this all ready. We fixed things with Balan, and Balan will grease the wheels of Sharn ‘justice.’ You know what I think of the city. If you want to burn our connection with Sharn, I don’t need much convincing, but we need time to end our affairs first and do it the right way. Seriously, woman – suck it up! You’re crying like a girl who didn’t get a pony.”

Luna may not be crying, but she does howl, rearing up and shouting her anger to everyone getting in the way of her vengeance. “I can't believe this! Once again – a blizzard is not a plague! Making someone cold and miserable is not killing them! The entire government is upholding this injustice! And just following orders is not an excuse! Remember the war crimes trials after the Last War? They all knew these were slimy, middle of the night, scheming maneuvers and all went along! And everyone here is fine with it!

The others simply stare in awed fascination at her fury, nobody interrupting. Korm murmurs, “You think she’ll blow up?”

Nobody answers and Luna rages on. “Well … Luna is not fine with it! And how come you don’t tell them about evil?! What they did to me was evil! I was just going to make them cold! And unhappy to be where they are! Where they didn’t want me to be! Here is the situation – come up with some way to make these people very, very, very, very sad that they ever even thought of messing with poor Luna or face the fact that Luna has sunk into depression and has no desire to do anything at all but avenge the loss of her home.”

“Okay, fellas,” whispers Nameless. “She’s gone to third person now. This is definitely not good.”

Luna continues, “If they’re going to take my house, let’s see some cash … right now! And if that’s the case, Luna is never setting foot in Sharn ever again. Ever!!! Until then ... I’m going to our other house to build rooms and sulk. Carry on!”

For just a second the others think the tirade is over, but Luna barely pauses to take a breath and then bashes on. “Okay … it’s just a mile wide blizzard. How can that be evil? Anyway ... it’s amazing how much faster the politicians would decide they wanted to resolve this if there was a blizzard happening!!”

She glares at Gareth. “So, Mr. Paladin – how cold can I make it without being evil? And what if I just become a polar bear and want to create a climate I can be happy in? Maybe if being evil is wrong I don’t want to be right!!” 

As Gareth tries to work out if there really is a question he should answer in there, Luna continues, “As I said, I will give the rest of you a chance to resolve this and get the full value of my house and all improvements out of the house _right now_!! And I will just never return to Sharn! EVER!! In the meantime, I just can’t concentrate on this other crap. So I am going to Karrnath and working on my new house. You guys let me know when things are resolved to my satisfaction or carry on as you will. You know where to find me – unless I get bored and go somewhere else. So just get me fair market value for my house _right now_!! And your precious Sharn will be left alone and can fend for itself!”

Again, for a moment it seems Luna is done, but then as she glares around she sees Six and remembers something he said. Which sends her off again. “Hello!!! It’s not that I didn’t get a pony – but that _my pony was ripped from me in the middle of the night_!!! I just don’t understand why we can’t resolve this first! How long can it take to sell our house so I know I’ll never ever have to go back to Sharn again?! I can’t rest with this up in the air! I hate all those people! I want my money! You all go _now_ and take care of this!! No one likes how Luna deals with things – so you deal with it! But do _something_!!!”

“You want to tell her that if she just shuts up, we can go back to Sharn and deal with the house?” Korm whispers to Nameless. The alienist instantly shakes his head, “I may go to Xoriat and talk to Great Old Ones, but I’m not stupid!”

Unaware or uncaring, Luna shouts on, “_Then_ Luna will go to the Mournland. Why are my needs always last? All I do is give! And this is how I am repaid! I wouldn’t raise a tail to help if all of Xoriat moved into our old house and ate Sharn! I hope it does! A plague on their city!! And there is never anything nice for druids! Life has just lost all its meaning!!”

“Anyway, I am leaving – goodbye! I will stop near our old house and summon the largest super-duper air elemental I can – and I want them to blow freezing cold wind in the general area of the miscreants involved – and I will tell them in Auran and have them take off their roofs!! And I will get four of them to stay around our house and howl as loud as possible so the neighbors will know the wailing of Luna’s poor heart!! And if that is evil ... so be it!! Oh, and I’m going to find that shifter witch and scrawl in red paint on her door – Loyal member of the _turn_coats! And on the side of her house ... ‘I can be bought very easily’!!!” 

Luna begins to laugh at the prospect and then, after a couple of moments, growls at the others, “What are you staring at?”

Korm sighs. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. But now I think I need to lie down.”

Nameless says, “The feeling is mutual. But let me see what I can find out about things out there.” He dons the _farspeaking amulet_ and contacts Balan Cord.

Over the link, Balan says, “I’ve got good and bad news. First the good, which involves you guys owing me a big one. I talked to a couple of people and most of the issues are either resolved or will be soon, and a lot faster than would be the case without me pushing. You should thank that reporter buddy of yours too. Having an article making the rounds of Khorvaire about the attack by the lich on your house helped me drop a couple of hints what the next articles are going to say. And that was a good idea about the donation to the widows too, Nameless. That helped. You guys can be back in your house any time it suits you. The bad news is that I was right – you will have to leave Upper Tavick’s. That’s got nothing to do with the Watch, so it’s something I can’t do anything about. And it’s not personal. It’s just that a bunch of the particularly rich folks in Ocean View figure that having you in the area puts them at risk, because of the enemies you’ve made. And they’ve got the legal excuse to get you out. You can’t actually buy property in that area unless 30 current residents sign a petition for you to do so. I told you that got side-stepped to let you get the Gray House simply because Talleon from the Citadel arranged it and the house not only had no owner at the time but was temporarily under Watch and Citadel jurisdiction due to the Emerald Claw cell there. So now it’s easy for people to bring up that move and get it reversed, especially since Bestan ir’Tonn, the councilor from Upper Tavick’s, seems willing to listen to the complaint. I’m guessing you’ll have till the end of the month to sell the place and leave, and have to vacate at that point even if you can’t sell it. If that’s the case, the property will remain yours and you can continue trying to sell till you do, but can’t live there. Selling shouldn’t be an issue, since I hear a couple of current residents would be willing to buy. I doubt you’ll get top price considering the situation, but even so you should be able to hold out for over 25,000 galifars easily, I believe, and maybe a fair bit more if you can get a few people to bid against each other. That’s about it.”

When Nameless relays what Balan said to the others, Gareth says, “Thank Balan for us and let him know we plan on either selling the house or leaving it as a rental property. The money is nice, but we are not desperate for it. We may have Fett live there. It never hurts to have contacts in Sharn.” 

Nameless replies to Balan, “We’ll be holding on to the house for the foreseeable future. We’ve found a new place to live and don’t need it currently. Once we’ve finished up our present business, we’re going to start digging. Wealthy people always have skeletons in the closet and we have magical resources for finding information the likes of which Sharn has not seen since the start of the Last War. It will be completely legal and above board I assure you, but they will regret these maneuverings.”

Balan sighs and replies, “Fine, fine. You guys do what you want. Just make sure it is actually all legal and above board. I’ve got enough connections with you and have done enough that I’m going to start looking like a complete idiot if you do anything silly. Anyway, stop in when you do get back to Sharn and if it takes a while before you do, check in with this gem every couple of days in case I have more news or some need for you. Thanks. And congratulations on the new place, wherever it is.”

Luna promptly says, “We will never be returning to Sharn.”

Nameless says, “You might not be. The rest of us want some payback and it’s still the best place to pick up the sort of magic we often need.” To Balan, he responds, “We do greatly appreciate your efforts on our behalf. It has been difficult restraining Luna from doing something rash and your actions have made this considerably easier. You can always call on us, if we can be of assistance to you.”

“Unless it involves us coming to Sharn,” says Luna.

Balan simply laughs at the comment about Luna doing something rash and then Nameless and he end the conversation. When they do, Gareth says, “I think the next time we get a decent magical item we should give it to him as a gift.  He really has put his neck out on the line for us.” Then he turns to Luna, “Is that good enough for you to calm yourself down? I don’t know why you are so worked up – we still have three residences, not including all the people who would love to have us as guests. And you never liked Sharn anyhow – it was too urban for your tastes.”

Luna scowls, “I want my share of the money of what the house is worth as I will never be returning to it!! Or Sharn!!! I can’t imagine how you could think this could possibly make me happy!! What did we pay for the house? Was it under 25,000 in galifars? If so, then my share is 5000. And I want it right now!! And any and all other money which I am entitled too so I can get my own place! Otherwise you go to the Mournland alone. Clearly you just don’t care about Luna!”

_I’m so glad we sold Emrena’s spellbooks!_ Nameless instantly produces 5000 galifars from the petty cash and hands it to Luna. “There you go. Now you’ve got no stake in the house, so don’t complain about whatever we do with it.” Before she can respond, he turns to the others. “Let’s get out of here. We have people to see and places to go.”


----------



## shilsen

Over the course of the day, the Angels meet multiple people. The first is Saala, who is both fascinated and perturbed to hear what they have experienced and discovered. Nameless asks her whether she has any information about creating more dimensional seals. Unfortunately, she confirms what he already suspected, that whatever methods the ancient Gatekeepers once used have been lost over the intervening millennia. At times, some of the best artificers in Khorvaire have tried to study and replicate them and failed. Saala says that Thlie has confirmed that, to the best of her knowledge, some of the dragons do know how to construct them. With the impending return of Xoriat, Saala suggests that if the Angels have the time after traveling into the Mournland, they could contact the dragons of Argonessen in this regard. Of course, whether the dragons will care at all or extend any aid is another matter. Vvaarak did, but she was exceedingly rare among her kind. 

Nameless also checks regarding dimensional seals in Cyre, to try and work out which one the Angels need to find. Salla says that she knows of only four dimensional seals within it, since the area which later became Cyre was one that was much less affected during the daelkyr invasion. Interestingly, none of them are really close to the spot where Nameless emerged. The southern entry point to the expedition, which Corven wants the Angels to be involved with, should put the group in the same general range from all of them as most other entry points. She also notes that none of the dimensional seals are anywhere near Metrol, the ruined capital of Cyre. Which is interesting, since tales from survivors claim that the Day of Mourning began with a giant explosion there, followed by the emergence of the Dead-Gray Mist. Of course, Nameless’ experiences indicate a different source.

Saala is unable to provide any particular way to home in on a dimensional seal and the only detectable magical effect that she can provide is the one Nameless knows of, namely that the seals replicate the effects of a _dimensional lock_ in a radius of about two miles. Six asks if it would be possible to detect it while flying above the Mournland, but Saala has no idea about that. Nameless theorizes that it wouldn’t be the case, since the Dead-Gray mist is known to block any and all magical effects extending into it from outside.

Lastly, Saala says that she is sending messengers to the Eldeen Reaches, now that the Angels have confirmed the existence of the seed and its effect on the manifest zone. While the Gatekeepers have only a small presence in the Reaches, they are friendly with the Wardens of the Wood, the largest and most powerful druidic sect. “Oalian will want to know of this,” says Saala, “And I’m sure he will aid us. Hopefully I will have news about that when you return from the Mournland.”

After having met with Saala, the Angels head back to Sharn. Except for Luna, who leaves for their house in Karrnath. At the Gray House, Fett confirms what Balan already told them, and also mentions the names of three people who he believes are interested in purchasing the house. Six asks him to check on any privateers who would be willing to fly their airship above the Mournland. Fett says that he’ll do so, since there are a couple who fly from Sharn to Xen’drik and to other dangerous locations, but warns that if any of them are willing to fly over the Mournland (which is unlikely), they will charge a hefty sum.

The group then visits Trillia, to fill her in on matters. Nameless invites her back to the cavern and ziggurat and she quickly accepts. The Angels and she _teleport_ back to the entrance to the tunnels and travel back to the cavern and ziggurat. Trillia is utterly fascinated, but when Nameless suggests that she might want to spend some time living there or in the manifest zone, she very quickly declines. “I’m very interested in studying the creations and magic of the daelkyr,” Trillia explains, “But being warped by them is definitely not on my agenda.”

Before leaving with her, the Angels seal off the cavern as best they can, using _wall of stone_ and _stone shape_, and Nameless puts a _greater sign of sealing_ on the ziggurat door. Then he _teleport_s them back to Sharn, where they drop Trillia off and then go meet Cedric. After filling him in on recent events and discoveries, Gareth mentions that he is going to Flamekeep the next day to meet Jaela Daran and speak to her about the coming of Xoriat, and they need directions so that Nameless can transport them there. “All right,” says Cedric, “But I’m only telling you how to get to a place near the entrance to the Cathedral. There’s no reason for you to appear inside and scare the hell out of someone.” He proceeds to provide a detailed description of the location and then says, “I know you guys think you’re hot sh*t, and you’ve got some basis for it, but you behave yourselves while you’re there and be respectful and polite to Jaela, okay? Especially you, Gareth. Don’t be cocky and do any of that ‘I am the Champion of the Silver Flame crap!’ I don’t want you giving Jaela a hard time. She’s a nice kid doing a horrible job, and if you give her any trouble, Flame help me, I _will_ kick your ass!”

Gareth looks at him in fascination. “Does she know that you call her a ‘nice kid’ and think being the Keeper of the Flame is a ‘horrible job’?”

“Of course. But ask her if you want. And tell her Cedric says, ‘Hey!’”

Gareth puts a hand over his face. “Yes. That will certainly be on my list of things to tell the Keeper.”


----------



## ajanders

"The finest sight I'll ever see
Is Luna's temper on a spree.
Whee!!"

_The Gammage Cup_, adapted


----------



## Rackhir

ajanders said:
			
		

> "The finest sight I'll ever see
> Is Luna's temper on a spree.
> Whee!!"
> 
> _The Gammage Cup_, adapted




There's plenty more of Luna's ranting and raving coming up.


----------



## ajanders

It suddenly occurred to me that Luna's right on the cusp of being a Batman villain. 
Can I steal bits of her character for an Eberron game?


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> It suddenly occurred to me that Luna's right on the cusp of being a Batman villain.
> Can I steal bits of her character for an Eberron game?



 Sure. Go ahead. Though I have to ask what Eberron did to you that you would inflict a second Luna upon it.


----------



## shilsen

The city of Flamekeep, capital of Thrane, sits along the western cliffs of the inland bay of Scions Sound, most of it rising along the sides of a multilayered pedestal of rock. Far to the east, one can barely make out the distant island of Thronehold, original – and now abandoned – seat of the Kingdom of Galifar. The highest tier of the city supports the Cathedral, its white alabaster walls, supported by massive flying buttresses and fitted with dozens of tall, stained glass windows, looking down over the rest of the city. A stream of people flows in and out of the main gates of the Cathedral, both worshippers from the city below and the surrounding kingdom, and pilgrims who have traveled across Khorvaire to see the heart of the Silver Flame.

The Angels _teleport_ in to the location Cedric described, a short distance from the main gates and off to the side. Awaiting them is a small group, most human but two of them warforged, all wearing tabards bearing the Silver Flame and with holy symbols around their necks. They eye the adventurers warily as they appear, and then one steps forward to say, “You are expected. Please follow me.” As the Angels follow them towards the main gates, two creatures spring to life from where they had been perched, on the stone walls nearby. They look like gargoyles, but with unusually pale gray wings and hide, sharply pointed ears and backward-curving horns. Though they have never seen them before, Gareth and Nameless recognize them as wingwyrds, descendants of normal gargoyles that were touched by the Silver Flame and now serve and protect temples of the Flame. The wingwyrds swoop low once to study the Angels and then flap their way towards the higher levels of the Cathedral towering above.

The worshippers lined up at the main gates look askance at the group as they are given immediate ingress, but the guards ignore their irritated grumbling and quickly lead the Angels into the giant antechamber beyond the gates and through one of the many doors leading into the Cathedral interior. They proceed along a number of corridors, with silver-inlaid black marble floors and ornate pillars, a perfect marriage of majesty and decadence. A number of people, some of whom must be clerics and paladins, pass the group. Most look curiously at them, but none stop to ask questions. The Angels’ guides do not stop for the most part either, only doing so once or twice to check where the Keeper is. While they do get some answers, nobody they speak to seems absolutely sure.

“I guess she doesn’t work like your friend Ythana,” comments Luna.

“Probably not,” says Gareth quietly, feeling a combination of both fascination at seeing the Cathedral and a strange apprehension at meeting the Keeper. Then he says thoughtfully, “I wonder how they knew we were coming. Maybe the Archierophant told them.”

“She didn’t know when we were showing up, and considering her general response to you nowadays, I don’t think she’s interested in telling anyone about you,” grins Korm.

If their escorts hear any of this exchange, they do not stop to answer or explain. But they halt instantly as a ball rolls into their corridor from around the turn at the end. It is followed quickly by a bizarre creature. Its general shape is that of a very large black dog, but a second look at the three pairs of legs gives the initial impression the lie. The head too, while canine in shape, has a large under-jaw that extends beyond the upper to reveal the large fangs on both, and has a pair of bonelike horns protruding from each side of the skull. 

The creature lopes up to the ball and grabs it, and then turns to face the group. After staring at them for a moment, it drops the ball and growls questioningly. A soft voice from around the corner asks curiously, “What is it, Skaravojen?” The creature turns to look in that direction, and seconds later, a small slim girl, dressed in simple gray robes, walks around the corner. She looks to be about ten years old, has gray eyes, short-cropped dark hair, a chocolate-colored complexion, and is barefoot. 

The escorts salute her as one, and one says, “The Guardian Angels, Keeper,” but the Angels note that none of them steps towards her. Or maybe not towards Skaravojen, who is standing beside her and still watching the group. The girl, Jaela Daran, Keeper of the Flame, spiritual and temporal ruler of Thrane, smiles and walks towards them.

“Hello,” she says, “I’m happy that you are here.” Addressing the guards, Jaela then says, “Thank you for bringing them to me. You can go now.” The members of the escort hesitate for a second, glancing at the heavily armed group, clearly wondering if they should leave them with the Keeper alone, but then bow and depart.

Once they have done so, Jaela says, “Come with me,” and leads the Angels down the otherwise deserted corridor, Skaravojen following close behind her. She opens a door, revealing a comfortable sitting room beyond, and heads in. “Please, sit down,” Jaela says before taking a seat of her own, her feet dangling incongruously above the floor. Her strange pet promptly places itself at her feet.

The Angels seat themselves around her, Luna unsurprisingly flopping down near Skaravojen. “Can I pet him?”

Gareth snaps, “Luna!” but Jaela simply smiles. “That’s all right, and yes, you can. Skaravojen, be nice.” The beast looks at Jaela and then yawns, revealing a triple set of fangs, and then lies down. Luna immediately begins to play with it, which it suffers patiently. 

“Oh my god! He’s so cute! Can I have him?” This time, Gareth simply puts his head in his hands at the question, but again Jaela simply smiles. “I’m sorry, but I really need him.” Evidently having worked out what the next question would be, she quickly adds, “And he’s unique, so I can’t find another one for you. House Vadalis made him over six hundred years ago to protect the Keepers.”

“Damn! I’m really beginning to hate those dragonmarked bastards! Why do they get to do all the fun stuff and have all the interesting things? But wait! Maybe if I tell them that I want a…”

“Luna,” says Nameless tiredly, “We’re here on business, not to find you a pet.” He looks at the Keeper. “You were expecting us?”

“Yes,” says Daela, “Cedric sent me a message. He is a friend of yours, isn’t he?”

_Ah, that explains it!_ “Yes,” says Gareth. 

“Is he well?” asks Jaela. “It has been over a year since I saw him last.”

“He’s fine, though he has picked up a strange appearance from helping a lich deal with a curse, and his eyes are all black now. But he’s all right. So is the lich he helped.” Gareth looks curiously at Jaela, wondering what her response to the news of a paladin aiding a lich would be. After a second of concern, Jaela laughs. “He would. If he’s a friend, then you know he’s a little strange. Last time he was here, he taught me about the … birds and the bees.” She giggles. “It was very … informative.”

Gareth (unwillingly) attempts to visualize Cedric explaining the facts of life to an eleven year old girl, who also happens to be the Keeper of the Flame, but there are some things his imagination cannot do. Luckily, Jaela moves on to other subjects. Her expression turns serious and she looks at the Angels. “But we have more important issues. You are here to speak of the daelkyr, are you not?”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “Did Cedric mention that?”

“He mentioned Xoriat, but that is not how I know. I have spoken to the Flame and it has told me the daelkyr are coming. And that you are going to the Mournland to attempt to prevent it. Correct?”

“Yes,” answers Six this time, adding, “It’s a pleasure to meet someone who actually receives predictions with precise details.”

“It is no credit to me. The Flame tells me what it will, and I have no choice in the matter. And not all details are precise. I know that your going to the Mournland will help, but not as much as you would like it to.”

“We’re used to that,” says Nameless. “A lot!”

Jaela continues. “War with Xoriat is coming, one way or another.” She sighs. “And your coming means the end of Thrane as I know it, for good or ill.”

Not expecting that comment, Gareth says uncomprehendingly, “Huh?!” drawing a guffaw from Korm. Glaring at the Gatekeeper, the paladin looks back to Jaela. “The end of Thrane?”

“I do not know how or why, but that is what the Flame told me is the result of your coming.” The little girl cocks her head to the side. “Tell me, Gareth, if you had the choice to end the Silver Flame’s existence in our world, but in thus ending it could end the coming of Xoriat, would you?”

“Uh….” Once again, Gareth is caught off-guard by an unexpected question and unsure exactly what to say. Jaela looks at him for a moment longer and then adds, “The question applies to the rest of you too.”

Nameless answers, speaking slowly and picking his words very carefully. “I would do whatever is necessary to prevent Xoriat from coming to Eberron. And I would not ask anything of others that I would not be willing to do myself.” Korm nods and says simply, “What he said.” Six and Luna agree, and finally Gareth says, “I agree too. If I may ask, why do you ask this question?”

“As with Thrane, I believe your coming and this invasion may mean great changes for the Flame too.” Jaela takes a deep breath and firms her small shoulders, and there is utter certainty in her voice now. “But we too shall do what we must. The armies of Thrane will stand ready for this war, whether anyone stand with us or not.” She looks around. “If you wish, I will send word to the rulers of the various nations about what is to come. They will be suspicious and their response will probably not be exactly what I would wish, but they will believe me more than they will if you attempt to persuade them about the situation.”

“I think we should wait until we return from the Mournland,” says Nameless, and then corrects himself. “If we return from the Mournland. I suggest giving us two weeks. If we aren’t back by then, I don’t think we will be.”

“Very well. But before you go, I would like to aid you however I can. Is there anything you need?”

Luna opens her mouth instantly, and then scowls as four voices say at once, “No! She said you can’t have him!”

Gareth sighs again and then says, “I have a strange question. Can you tell me if I am really a paladin?”

The others chuckle and Korm guffaws as Jaela tilts her head curiously. Gareth quickly continues, “It’s just that I once discovered the powers I had were actually granted by a demon imprisoned in my father’s sword. And we’ve had our bodies modified by Mordain the Fleshweaver, a powerful mage, and he said he had made me a paladin again. I’d just like to know for sure whether I am a paladin, or something like with the demon is going on again.”

Whether Jaela understands all of this or not, she nods, “Of course,” and leans over as he rises and goes to a knee before her. Jaela places her small hand on the paladin’s forehead and murmurs something under her breath. Silver fire plays around her hand and Gareth feels warmth on his brow – and then, strangely, inside his head. After a couple of seconds, Jaela nods and removes her hand.

“Yes, you are a paladin.”

Gareth releases the breath he had been holding, but before he can speak, she repeats, “Yes, you are a paladin. But you walk the brink – in a very different way than Cedric does. Tell me, do you think you are proud? And do you think he is?” 

Not expecting this question either, Gareth says thoughtfully, “I think I am. I think I should have some pride in what the Flame has bestowed on me. And I think Cedric is proud too. He is different from me and does many things that I wouldn’t, so I’m not quite sure, but I think he is.”

Jaela nods. “Yes. You are proud. All paladins are proud, since they walk as the hand of their god, but too much pride and that way lies a fall. Cedric is prouder than you. But his pride is only for himself, not to be shown to or flung at others, because he is also completely certain – because he questions himself every moment of every day. You are not certain, but you do not question, or at least not as much as you could, so you wear your pride as a shield against the world. Let it go, and be what you were chosen to be.”

Not sure he completely understands, but not planning to argue or ask too many questions, Gareth simply bows his head. “Tell me,” says Jaela, “Is there any other way I can help?”

_I don’t want to ask so many things, but…_ Gareth says, a trifle hesitantly, “Actually, I have a problem. We encountered a strange, aberration-made temple in the Shadow Marches and it drained me, and I have not been able to recover at all even though it was two days ago and I have attempted a _lesser restoration_ and a _restoration_. We’re not sure what the effect was. Perhaps you could tell me what it is?” Somehow he can’t yet bring himself to ask Jaela directly to cure it.

“Certainly.” The Keeper again lays her hand on his head, and after a couple of seconds, the silvery fire appears again. Jaela closes her eyes, murmuring something indistinct under her breath. Then she makes a simple gesture with her other hand and pronounces a few words, and the silvery flames flash incredibly brightly for a moment, before fading away. “There.”

Gareth feels the warmth flow from his brow through all of him, and as it passes, he feels completely rejuvenated. Not only does the muzziness in his head fade, but he feels healthier and more alive than he ever has. He remains in the same position, completely shocked, having recognized what she just did. _She just used a_ miracle _on me! For me!_ After a few seconds of silence, he says, “I … do not know … what to say.”

Nameless, himself impressed at the magnitude of the magic Jaela just used, says dryly, “Say ‘thank you,’ Gareth.”

Gareth throws him a dirty look as Jaela giggles, and then bows deeply to the Keeper. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome.” As Gareth rises and resumes his seat, Jaela leans back in her chair, kicking a bare foot idly back and forth like a bored schoolgirl. “Is there anything else I can do for all of you before you leave?”

“Well,” says Six, reaching into a pouch and pulling out a sheet of parchment, covered with what looks like a list in multiple columns, “I did have a list of scrolls…”

“SIX!” Jaela giggles again at Gareth’s cry and waves a hand to show that it’s all right. “I shall see what I can do. And when you are gone, I shall speak to the Council of Cardinals. They shall not like what I have to say, but when you return from the Mournland, we shall stand ready to aid as needed.” Her voice turns deeper and strangely sonorous as she speaks, and for just a few seconds, the Angels hear not just an eleven year old girl, but the living voice of the Silver Flame on earth. “And you will return. Beyond that, I cannot see.”


----------



## shilsen

The Angels spend most of the next day helping move members of the expedition and equipment for it to the points from which it will enter the Mournland. They also spend a little time talking with Fett via the _farspeaking amulet_, discussing the possibility of hiring an airship to fly over the Mournland with them. Fett has found a group of privateers who own a particularly fast and maneuverable ship called the _Sirocco_, which rumor says they actually stole from House Lyrandar and only retain due to some deal worked out with the dragonmarked house, but the price they ask is too abortive.

At which point Six, who had suggested the airship in the first place, makes the mistake of suggesting something else. “What about a flying carpet? The point of having a flying platform is for us to have a space to withdraw to above the Mournland.”

Luna’s eyes light up immediately. “A carpet? A flying carpet? That would be so _cool_!”

Nameless shakes his head. “It wouldn’t be worth it. We could afford one, and even though they’re really rare we might be able to find a couple for sale in Sharn, but they’re too small. The largest ones are only ten feet long and wide, and cost over twice what our house does.”

“Maybe we can get one of the biggest ones,” asks Gareth, “And use it with Luna and you on it, since you have the most powerful spells. The rest of us could be in the _portable hole_. Or just get a smaller one with you the only one outside, with an _invisibility_ spell on you.”

“I think we should get two medium sized ones or two big ones and sell the house in Sharn so we never have to go back ever,” Luna says excitedly.

“You’re already bought out of the house,” points out Nameless. “And you don’t have to go back. We’d probably prefer it if you never went back to Sharn.” _I’m pretty sure everyone who knows you there would say the same_. Turning to Gareth, he says, “And how long would you sit in the _hole_? Remember, we’d need to enter the Mournland multiple times if we did…”

Luna interrupts, “Yes, but it would help you raise money for the carpets. Which affects me! I can die, you know! And they don’t want you there either! In case you’re forgetting, you’re being thrown out of your community! And it’s supported by your government!” She jabs a finger at Gareth. “Just like the Thranish Inquisition!”

“Hey!” says Gareth indignantly. “Leave me out of this! I had nothing to do with the Inquisition, remember?”

“Have they told you yet where in Sharn you’re allowed to live?” Luna continues, growing more and more excited, “Sure … Emerald Claw cell … fine … illegal enforcement dogs … turncoats … they can live anywhere … they’re welcome! But you’re not! I don’t think you guys get it!”

Nameless ignores the discussion about the house, having had enough of the subject, and focuses on the other. “You want a carpet. You have enough money to buy one. You’ll have to trade most of your magic items for it, but you can get one if you really want it. Your call.”

“But what’s wrong with them?! If you guys chip in we can get a lot. We could get four and tie them together and have one giant one! And I could make it fly faster by casting wind spells behind it! It would be cool! And fun!”

The alienist’s voice turns flatter as he gets more irritated. “Nobody else wants one. They're slow. They don't carry enough. There’s no way to secure yourself on one. And they are horribly expensive for essentially no advantages.”

“No advantages! You can sleep on one and get your spells back! You can stand on one and cast spells! You can enhance their speed with spells! And it’s not like going in some horrid hole!”

Nameless snaps, “Anyone who can cast spells in our group can already fly! You can’t enhance the speed of a _carpet of flying_ with spells. Summoning up a wind or something is just going to make it difficult to control and maybe knock people off the carpet.” He waves a hand at her gigantic form and says through almost gritted teeth. “_Carpet of flying_. Ten feet by ten feet. Capacity – 800 pounds. A typical dire bear is a dozen feet long and weighs as much as 8,000 pounds. And then there’s you! DO. THE. MATH!”

Luna looks down at herself. Everyone remains silent, awaiting a response, but after a few seconds she looks up and says only, “Oh!”

Nameless lifts both eyebrows, and then looks up at the sky, spreading his arms. “Let Xoriat come! Now that I’ve actually managed to shut Luna up, nothing is ever going to be impossible for me!”

* * * * * * * * * *
Two days later, the Angels stand at the border of Breland, staring at the wall of Dead-Gray Mist which marks the border of the Mournland. It rises before them to a height of approximately five hundred feet, though they can see plumes and mountains of mist which rise much higher. 

Behind them are stand a large number of tents and a couple of small buildings, extending around the Orien road as it comes up to the mist. Over a hundred and fifty people move around the area, comprising the half of the expedition which will be entering the Mournland from this location. They include Cannith artificers and warforged, Deneith mercenaries (consisting of a troop of Dhakaani hobgoblins from the Ruus Dhakaan clan, and a squad of warforged veterans of the Last War), scholars from Morgrave University, and ex-Cyrans of all descriptions. The hobgoblins and warforged, who will be providing security for the others, are all heavily armed. Almost all of the warforged wear the harnesses that Six introduced to House Cannith, having been fitted with them to increase survivability in the Mournland. A small squad of soldiers from Fort Kennrun is also present, to provide additional security for the group who will stay outside the Mournland.

Corven is present too, since he will be entering with them, though he will be leaving within hours to meet the other half of the expedition. He walks over to the Angels and says, “Ready to head in?”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “Anything particular we should keep in mind?”

“Just the sort of stuff I’ve already told you. You’ll find it disorienting in the mist and visibility will be almost nonexistent, but try to keep heading dead east. There’s no way to say how thick it is at this point. Don’t panic if it takes longer than you think it should.” He chuckles. “Of course, you guys can handle anything you run into better than anyone else, so that’s probably redundant.” 

“I think we should rope ourselves together for greater safety,” says Six.

“Good idea,” agrees Nameless. Then, to Corven, he says, “Maybe we should carry a rope laying it out behind us, so you have something to follow.”

Corven nods. “I’m not sure how well that’ll work, but it doesn’t hurt to try.”

A couple of minutes later, a pair of warforged stand ready with a huge coil of rope, one end of which is tied around the waist of Luna in the lead, and looped around each of her companions. Corven nods and gives the Angels a thumbs-up, and they walk into the Dead-Gray Mist.

As soon as the mist envelops them, the Angels find that it is even thicker and more impenetrable to sight than a _fog cloud_. The people immediately before and behind them disappear from sight, and it’s barely possible to see a hand when placed an inch or two from one’s face. Sound too is drastically muffled, and within seconds they can barely hear their own footfalls. Nameless’ _arcane sight_ begins to malfunction seconds after entering, the auras he detects from his companions flickering and shifting. Gradually the auras spread and separate into threes, until it seems to him that instead of his four companions, three of each are walking next to each other. The constant shifting of the auras also begins to give him a headache. 

“I don’t like this one bit!” growls Luna. Korm’s muffled voice replies, “Join the club. Let’s keep going and get out.”

The Angels continue, finding that the mist is beginning to become somewhat claustrophobic. The feel of the Orien trade road below their feet quickly fades away. Seconds after that happens, Six – who is bringing up the rear – feels the rope go slack behind him. “Hold on!” he says, causing the others to halt, and then pulls in the rope. It ends only a dozen feet behind him in a neat cut, without any signs of fraying. “The rope’s been cut,” he explains. “And very close behind me, though I felt nothing.”

“Great! That’s all…,” begins Gareth, and then stops as he sees a face appear in the mist near his. It disappears instantly, but the paladin has enough time to see that it looks like a particularly sad young woman’s, with tears streaming down her face. A soft, wordless murmur reaches his ears, but seeming to come from the opposite direction to the face. “Did anyone else see that?!”

There’s silence for a moment and then a couple of the others say, “If you mean a face, then yes.”

The Angels begin to hear more soft murmurs and whispers, though the words are never clear, and a few faces, usually sad and weeping, which disappear as soon as they disappear. “They’re not magical,” says Nameless, “Or at least not of a kind my _arcane sight_ detects.”

“Gareth, can you _detect evil_ in the area?” Six asks.

Gareth groans. “I just knew you’d say that. Okay, but I am _not_ going to _detect thoughts_, in case anyone thought of suggesting it!”

Nameless says, “Thank the gods! He’s finally learning!”

Gareth ignores the comment and concentrates and, a second later, begins to detect multiple moderately evil auras around them. The strange thing is that each aura appears as a point rather than an actual form, and it disappears as soon as he detects it. It is like being surrounded by sparks of evil, which constantly flash into life and disappear as quickly. Gareth explains what he detected and says, “Could be undead, since they _detect_ as evil whether they really are or not.”

“I’m thinking it’s quite possible this entire Mist is made up of the souls of those slain on the Day of Mourning,” says Nameless.

“So we’re inside a giant mist of undead?” asks Luna. “That’s just great!” A second later, she gives a startled growl as something cold strokes the side of her muzzle. Though she cannot see the source and it lasts only a long second, she could swear that it was a small hand. “Gah! Something just touched me!”

As Luna speaks, a bell begins to toll to the Angels’ left, its mournful tones ringing clearly through the otherwise muffling mist.

“All right,” says Nameless decisively. “That’s it. I wanted to avoid trying unusual experiments here, but I think it’s time.” 

“What do you want to do?” Gareth asks suspiciously.

“You’ll see,” Nameless grins. He fumbles blindly in a pouch and produces a pinch of powdered iron, before casting a spell. The iron disappears, as does the mist in a ten foot radius about him. His magical abilities and enhancements fade away too, as the _anti-magic field_ takes effect, leaving the alienist significantly weaker, but right now he thinks it’s worth it. 

Despite the removal of the mist in his location, Nameless can see nothing, and he quickly produces a tinderbox and lights a torch. “I can’t remember the last time we had to rely on something like this.” 

The other Angels gather close around him, benefiting from the _field_ too, not even Luna complaining at the disappearance of her bear form. They stand in a hemisphere with pitch black walls, formed by the mist held at bay by Nameless’ spell. After studying it for a few seconds, Six steps out of the _field_, firmly holding onto Korm’s shoulder while doing so, and then returns to say, “It’s weird. The mist seems much thicker around the area, as if it were trying to get back in. That’s what’s making it so black. It’s a little lighter when you get a foot or so from your _field_.”

“Well, it’s not getting in for the next 2 hours, so let’s move on. Maybe this will help with getting through.” 

The Angels proceed to do so, forming a tight cluster around Nameless. After walking on for a good fifteen minutes, Korm says, “Anybody else certain we’re going in the right direction? We’ve covered a good distance.”

“Search me,” says Gareth. “Direction’s impossible to make out here. But I don’t think turning around will do any good.”

“Agreed,” says Six. “I just hope we haven’t got turned around already and are walking north or south and circling the Mournland. Let’s keep going.”

It eventually takes the Angels over an hour since they entered before they suddenly stumble onto what looks like the remnants of an Orien trade road. Following it, only a minute or two later they step through the Mist. 

A blasted and broken land stretches around them, cloaked in an eternal twilight, which shines – if one can use that term for the weak gray corpse-light – from the Dead-Gray Mist which forms not just a wall but a ceiling for the land, hanging thickly a little over a hundred feet above it. Much of the ground is exposed, gray earth, and the only common vegetation seems to be a coarse grass and some twisted bushes. A few trees dot the landscape or grow in small clumps, with completely bare branches and twisted, blackened bark. The ground, flat but uneven, undulates into the distance as far as one can see. Corpses dot the ground here and there, as befits the Angels’ position in the world’s largest mass grave.


----------



## ajanders

Little Known Fact...
The last words ever spoken in Cyre were: "Evict the druid Luna..."


----------



## Rackhir

ajanders said:
			
		

> It suddenly occurred to me that Luna's right on the cusp of being a Batman villain.
> Can I steal bits of her character for an Eberron game?




It's worth pointing out that taking ANYTHING from Luna (even if it's just ideas) is a VERY bad plan. Well, at least if you want to keep living. If you're trying to commit suicide then it's a terrific idea.


----------



## javcs

Well, technically, that wouldn't be suicide.

Luna killing you != you killing you.

It's having a massive death wish.


----------



## Rackhir

javcs said:
			
		

> Well, technically, that wouldn't be suicide.
> 
> Luna killing you != you killing you.
> 
> It's having a massive death wish.




I'm not seeing the difference between stealing from Luna and stepping out in front of a freight train. It's not like you don't know what's going to happen.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:
			
		

> I'm not seeing the difference between stealing from Luna and stepping out in front of a freight train. It's not like you don't know what's going to happen.




Oh, there's a huge difference. One involves you getting yourself killed. The other involves you getting everyone in a 3 mile radius of you killed.

Messing with Luna is like tempting the fates of genocide.


----------



## shilsen

Ah, Luna! What would we do without her? No, don't answer that. It's liable to make the other PCs cry.

* * * * * * * * * *

Besides the Mournland itself, what catches the Angels’ attention is the sight of the members of the expedition, setting up camp a few hundred feet away. “Weren’t they supposed to be waiting for us?” asks Gareth. Korm shrugs, “Maybe they got tired of waiting.” Meanwhile, Luna glances at Nameless, whose _anti-magic field_ she has stepped out of. A thin coating of fog clings to the outside of the _field_. “You might want to turn that off. It looks like you brought some mist with you.”

“Really?” asks the alienist. “I was wondering why things are foggy in here.” He dismisses the spell. For a second, the fog which covered the hemisphere just hangs there, and then it swiftly flows inwards. Tendrils of mist flow around Nameless, stretching and expanding until they envelop him from head to toe, so that he has his own personal little cloud, extending about a foot from his body. The misty covering makes his shape and outline indistinct, but it also cuts down on visibility for him. “What the hell?” says Nameless, waving his arms around, but the fog sticks to and moves with him.

“Interesting,” says Six. “Looks like this place has a lot of surprises for us.” 

Nameless shrugs. “I’ll see if I can do something about it later. On a positive note, I can sense where the dimensional seal is.” He points off towards the northeast. “Any idea how far?” asks Six. “No,” the alienist replies. “I just get a direction. Maybe I’ll know more when we’re closer.”

Corven has been walking over to the group while they have been talking, and when he arrives he asks, “What’s up with Nameless?”

“No idea,” says Gareth. “Have you ever heard of something like this?”

“Someone with a personal bit of the Mist? Never. So what happened to you guys? I was beginning to wonder if we lost you. We waited for an hour after you left before beginning to send others through. Everyone who was supposed to come through, except five of the Dhakaani, who seem to have disappeared.”

“How long were we in there?” asks Six.

“A little over four hours. Didn’t you know that?”

Six glances back at his companions, who corroborate what he thought. “We thought we were in there for a little over an hour.” 

Corven looks surprised for a moment and then smiles grimly. “Welcome to the Mournland.” Then he looks past the Angels. “What the…?!”

Turning around, the adventurers see a figure step out of the Mist, garbed in the distinctive spiked armor that the Dhakaani wear. Garbed in the armor, however, is not a hobgoblin but a skeleton. The figure marches smartly out of the Mist and then drops on its face. The skeleton begins to fall apart instantly, the bones dissolving into a soft mush, which then turns to dust and blows away. Right behind the first skeleton, connected to it by a rope looped around their waists, emerges a second armored skeleton, which also collapses and melts away. By the time Corven and the Angels reach it, a third skeleton has emerged and is moldering on the ground, and a fourth follows suit. 

The fifth and last figure to emerge is not a skeleton but a hobgoblin, armed and armored like the others. He marches out as smartly as the others and then collapses like them. Corven catches him as he falls, grunting with the effort, before the Angels help him. The hobgoblin does not resist in any way, and when they look at his face they find that both of his eyes are milky-white and absolutely blind. Whatever happened to him – and his companions – in the Mist, there is no way to know, since he seems completely incapable of any response. 

The Angels carry the afflicted hobgoblin to where the rest of the expedition are working, many of whom have stopped and are watching worriedly. While a pair of healers check on the Dhakaani, Corven says, “Four casualties coming through the Mist.” He looks at the almost comatose hobgoblin. “Five. I’ve heard of worse. And better.” He takes a deep breath and then asks, “Have you decided what you will be doing?”

“We’re going to be heading … well, thataway,” says Nameless, indicating the direction in which he senses the dimensional seal to be.

“Hmm. That actually works out for us. Very well, actually. You said you were willing to accompany and protection one of our groups, until their paths and yours diverged. That’s the general direction of the Lord of Blades’ camp, which our largest party – and the one going deepest into the Mournland – will head towards. If you’re traveling with them, I’ll feel a lot better about their situation. They should be ready to leave in an hour. Does that work for you?”

“Yes,” says Nameless, “I think that we….” Then he stops, looks at Six and grins. “Actually, why am I answering? What do you think?”

Surprised, Six looks at him suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

 “I did say that once we get in the Mournland you can display your tactical genius to us. So you might as well start making the decisions. Take it away, Six.”

The warforged looks at him for a few seconds and then shrugs. “Fine by me.” He turns to Corven, watching with an amused smile. “That sounds fine.”

The Angels proceed to help the expedition set up its camp. Tents and makeshift huts are raises, a protective fence is set up, a screen of scouts is sent out (in pairs), and the groups that are to go out this day prepare themselves. An hour later, the group that will head for the Lord of Blades’ camp is ready to leave. It consists of eight artificers and scholars, ten hobgoblins, and eight warforged. The Angels speak to the leader of the group, Lamaan d’Cannith, and after some discussion, decide that they will travel about five hundred feet in advance of the group, so that they will be the first to encounter any trouble in the way. The leader of the Dhakaani contingent, Suur Dhakaan, a burly hobgoblin whose face and arms are covered in tribal tattoos, and Saber, a female warforged who commands the others, are informed of the arrangement too. Finally, Corven bids the Angels goodbye, wishing them best of luck, and they head off into the corpse-land that was once Cyre, the Jewel of Galifar.

The Angels head over the rolling plains that make up this area of the Mournland, with the expedition party following once they have built up enough of a lead. Nameless skims the ground with his _overland flight_, intermittently rising into the air to scout the area they are passing through. Though his range of vision is severely limited by the undulating landscape, his personal covering of fog and the fact that he doesn’t risk getting close to the Dead-Gray Mist overhead, the aerial view does give the group some warning of what is ahead.

As the expedition camp recedes behind them, the Angels find more and more corpses dotting the landscape around them. There seems little or no commonality to them. Some are alone and others in groups. Some have clearly died from their wounds, some from other causes which apparently range from starvation to suffocation to fear, and some of them have no evident cause. The one thing that is constant is that every body seems perfectly preserved.

Luna stops at sight of the first large collection of bodies. “Let’s search them! Nameless, is there anything magical on them? Maybe they’ll have something interesting on them!”

“Luna, we are not stopping to search every group of….” Nameless stops and looks at Six. “You want to explain to her, boss?”

“Somebody should have told me this was part of the job,” says Six, before addressing Luna. “We really don’t have time for this. And the less we interfere in the Mournland, the better.”

“Damn! Why do I never get to have any fun?” wails Luna.

“Because when you have fun, Khorvaire cries,” says Korm, before turning and heading away. “Amen!” says Gareth and follows, as do Six and Nameless quickly. Luna follows, grumbling loudly.

As the group continues onwards, they begin to encounter more of the strange sights that they have heard are so common in the Mournland. The first building they see is what looks like a farmhouse, far off to the side of their path, but it is a little difficult to be sure, since it looks like it was flattened by a gigantic weight. 

A few minutes later, they pass a large pool of water, which has an oily slick on the surface. As they walk by, the surface seems to clear, and they see their skeletal forms reflected in it, except for Six. “Oh, that’s nice,” says Korm. Six nods. “I knew I would like this place.”

Nameless, who has given the reflection a look and then ascended to scout the area again, calls down. “Heads up, people! Living spell on the way.”

“Ooh!” Luna’s excitement is obvious. “Where? Where?!” 

Nameless points at a low hillock nearby, about forty feet above the level his companions are at. “Coming up from the other side.” He frowns. “From everything I’ve learned of them, they’re like oozes, with an ability to sense things only within some fifty or sixty feet, and that one was easily five hundred feet away. And it turned around and headed right for us.”

“Can we outrun it?” asks Gareth.

“No. It’s at least twice as fast as Luna and you. And if we bypass it, the expedition will probably run into it.” Nameless looks at Six. “So, what’s the plan?”

“I propose running at it and hacking it,” says Korm.

“No!” says Six. “We back up, let it come over the top, and fill it full of arrows. Why do you think I had Nameless enchant all of those arrows?” Matching actions to words, Six backs away from the location the living spell is supposed to appear at. “Will spells work on it?”

“Yes. They have some resistance to magic, but not enough to bother us, I think. It looks like a fire spell, but that won’t make it actually immune to fire, so your _flame strike_s will work on it, Luna.”

“But I don’t want to kill it!” protests Luna. “I want to keep it!”

“We already covered this, Luna – it will not work! It’s mindless, uncontrollable, and violent.” Nameless hesitates and grins. “Yes, I know that makes it sound just like you, but it won’t work. Trust me. _Please_ trust me. For once.”

Gareth, meanwhile, has readied his bow, muttering, “I can’t remember when I used this last.” As Six hands him half a dozen enchanted arrows, Korm says, “Give me some too.” The paladin looks at him in surprise. “You have a bow?”

“Yup!” The Gatekeeper grins from ear to ear, reaches into his magical haversack and pulls out a weapon.

Six looks at the giant implement skeptically. “Did you just take a branch and tie a rope to it?” Gareth adds, “Branch? I’ve seen smaller trees!” 

Korm waves his bow at them dismissively. “Bah! I’m no good with bows anyway, and you mentioned the whole archery thing earlier, so when we were in Sharn I picked up a big bow*. At least when I hit it’ll do a lot of damage. Now give me some arrows!”

The discussion is finally interrupted by the appearance of the living spell over the top of the hillock. It is a shapeless mass, nearly a dozen feet across, mostly transparent but shot through with streaks of crackling flame, and it leaves a trail of scorched earth and grass behind it. Even though the Angels are nearly two hundred feet away from it, the creature heads right for them, picking up speed as it advances. 

Right into a volley of arrows. Though Six is the only accurate archer among the three, the living spell’s large shape is difficult to miss, and its structure provides little resistance to the magical arrows, which rip large chunks out of it. Spells from Nameless and Luna complete the job and only seconds later, the creature slow, then halts, and finally falls apart into a grayish sludge.

“Phew!” Luna waves a paw in front of her muzzle as an acrid stench wafts from the remnants to them. “That’s foul!” The others give the remains a wide berth as they prepare to head on, but Nameless flies over to hover over them. Then, to the disgust of the others, he reaches down, picks up a sliver of the gray goop, and pops it in his mouth.

Korm looks at the others. “And you say _I_ eat weird sh-t!”

“What?” says Nameless. “It smelled appetizing and I was curious.”

Six just shakes his head and turns away. _I know it’s that eating that screws them up! And the shitting. And the sex. _

“That’s just wrong, Nameless!” complains Luna. “First you won’t let me keep it. Then you make me help you kill it. And then you eat it in front of me! I’m just glad I don’t have a pony or a kitten. Who knows what you’d do to it?”

At this point, a voice interrupts, “That was very impressive! All of you are clearly very skilled.”

The Angels spin around, weapons coming to the ready, to see a well-dressed elf walking towards them, garbed as if he were coming from a high society party. He has a friendly smile on his angular face and is twirling a flute in his hand, the back of which displays a clearly visible dragonmark. 

“Undead?” asks Six quietly. “I don’t know,” says Nameless in a similar tone, “But he detects strongly of necromantic and universal magic.”

The elf walks up and asks pleasantly, “What are you doing in the Mournland? Few travelers pass through here.”

Nobody answers the question, and instead, Luna asks bluntly, “Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

“I am a member of House Phiarlan,” he answers. “I was caught here on the Day of Mourning and I promised the Traveler anything as long as he’d let me survive. He did. And this is my home now.” 

Gareth studies him carefully. The paladin knows that, like House Cannith, House Phiarlan used to have one of its major enclaves in Cyre, which was lost on the Day of Mourning. Coincidentally, every major Phiarlan member of the enclave was outside Cyre on that day, which has led to suspicion in various quarters about whether the Phiarlans knew what was coming. He also remembers the tales he has heard of those who gain gifts from the Traveler, whose gifts always come with a hidden price. Gareth considers trying to _detect thoughts_ but settles for simply _detect_ing _evil_, not wanting to risk what happened at the ziggurat of R’lyeh. To his gaze, the entire landscape has a faintly evil aura to it, but the elf does not _detect_ as such.

“We’re just passing through,” says Korm. “What do you want with us?” The Phiarlan smiles, and replies, “You are welcome here. I will be happy to show you around my home.” As he speaks, each of the Angels simultaneously notices that his eyes are completely black, with tiny specks in them. As soon as they do so, they each feel a strange ennui for a moment, accompanied by a faint tickling in their minds, the combination of which prevents any action. The elven eyes seem to expand and fill the watcher’s view until they cover the entire horizon. As they expand, the watcher realizes that the eyes actually consist of a completely dark sky full of stars. There is a sense of vertigo and the Angels feel themselves falling forward into the dark expanse.

And then suddenly the eyes are gone, as are the Phiarlan, only the soft whisper of fading flute music to show that he had been present. “O-kay!” growls Luna, looking around suspiciously. “Can we just blast the next person we see here?”

The Angels proceed onwards, keeping a careful eye out for the Phiarlan, but he does not reappear. Instead, the next strange experience they have is a shower of rain. For a certain given value of rain.

The first sign of it is something hitting Luna’s head and bouncing off. “Hey!” she says and looks up, only to have something smack into her eye. “Hey!” Blinking to clear her vision, Luna looks down to see what it was, having heard it land on the ground. “HEY! I got hit in the eye!” She points at the object. “By an EYE!” 

The others look down to see what seems to be a human eye lying on the ground, complete with eyelids and lashes, a little piece of bloody fiber extending from its rear. It blinks slowly up at them. As they look at it, more objects begin to pelt down around them, some bouncing off, others hitting particularly hard surfaces like Gareth’s armor and exploding with a soft sound, spraying jelly everywhere. 

“Let’s move!” The Angels hurry forward, covering their heads, ignoring the feeling and squelching sound of eyes exploding beneath their tread. The rain becomes quickly heavier and they speed up as well, till they are running. After nearly half a minute, they burst out of the rain. Having taken a few steps to make sure, they look back to see an area over five hundred feet wide where a shower of eyeballs continues to fall, now so heavy that the eyes are beginning to form small piles.

The Angels hurry on, cleaning themselves off along the way, not wanting to wait and see if the eyes turn into anything else. “That’s disgusting!” grumbles Luna, having stopped for a moment to conjure a shower of water on herself and now moving on with seriously wet fur. “I’m beginning to get pissed off at this place!” The others promptly give her a slightly wider berth, and not just due to the smell of sodden bear.

Luckily, for her (and unfortunately, for them), the next unusual occurrence is perfectly suited for Luna’s tastes. As the group is passing around another of the myriad low rises that make up this area, they hear a loud meow coming from the top of it. Walking towards them is a large tabby cat, with black markings on the fur that make it look just like a miniature tiger. She has a golden chain around her neck which holds a small metal collar. As the Angels stop and look at it, she speeds up, bounding down the low hillside and padding up to them. 

“Oooh!” says Luna and walks up to the cat, which looks fearlessly up at the giant bear. Then it purrs, steps forward and rubs itself against her leg. “Awww!” goes Luna immediately. “That’s so sweet! I’m keeping her!”

“Oh, no – you’re not!” says Six. Luna immediately rounds on him, while the cat sits there and looks around. “Why not?” she growls. “It’s just a cat!”

“That’s my point,” explains the warforged. “It’s a cat. In the Mournland. What kind of cat could survive here? That’s definitely _not_ just a cat!”

Luna just growls irritably and then looks down at the cat, which has rolled over and is batting at her paws, each of them many times the size of its entire body. “It’s somebody’s cat.” She reads the sign. “It says ‘Valthera.’ Pretty name. I’m keeping her, and maybe we’ll find her owner.”

“At which point you’ll kill him so you can keep his cat, right?” grins Korm.

Luna grins back but says nothing. But when Nameless asks, “Is there anything else on the collar? Like a ‘if found, return to daelkyr at …’?” she shakes her head. “Nope. Just her name. But maybe she can tell us who her owner is.” She casts a spell, allowing herself to _speak with animals_, and others get to enjoy the incongruous sight of Luna meowing at the cat. The cat cocks its head and looks at her curiously, before patting her on the muzzle with a paw and meowing something back. 

Luna grins, licks it and then shakes her head. “She doesn’t say anything. She’s just making the sounds but not actually saying anything which counts as speech for cats. Either my spell didn’t work or there’s something wrong with her.” Before anyone can say anything about that, she quickly adds, “But I’m still keeping her! She’s cute!”

“You’re apparently cute too, to _some_ people,” says Six, “But that doesn’t stop you from being incredibly dangerous, you know. Cute doesn’t mean safe. Remember the little gnome girl in the red riding hood in that tower in the Demon Wastes?”

Korm shudders. “Eww! That’s a memory I didn’t need recalled.”

Luna is about to argue, when Gareth interrupts, “Um, guys!” The paladin points up at the Mist above them and some distance away. Maybe two hundred feet ahead and off to their right, a huge segment of the ceiling of thick fog has receded, forming a roughly cylindrical hole which extends upwards some five hundred feet but shows no end to the Mist. Halfway up the size of the cylinder a gigantic creature, which resembles a partly translucent manta ray with a couple of hemispherical protrusions on its underside and a long flail-like tail extending behind it, is floating gently across the hole.

“Luna!” Six says urgently, “Don’t _flame strike_ it! Actually, don’t do anything to it.”

“I wasn’t about to,” Luna growls sulkily, watching with the others as the creature makes its way across the hole and disappears into the fog on the other side. The hole in the Mist begins to flow together too.

“Note to self,” says Nameless. “Fly closer to the ground.”

“See, Luna,” Six turns to the druid, “Now that – whatever the hell it was – is normal. For the Mournland. I don’t want to see it again or meet it, but it seems perfectly in keeping with this place. But a cat, on the other hand, makes me go – wait, that’s not right!”

“Listen! You bums won’t let me get a living spell, so I’m keeping the cat. No argument about it. If you wussies are scared of her, you can stay at a distance.” She turns and pokes the cat, sending it rolling end over end. “But I won’t. Because I love you. Yes I do. Don’t you love your mummy Luna too?” She picks up the cat in a giant paw and kisses it. “Yeth, yeth you do!”

Korm gazes sadly at the giant bear kissing and making baby talk with the cat. “I think we just made the Mournland more insane. Let’s go.”

The group moves on, with the cat following them, either being carried by Luna or walking along. It seems extremely friendly and attempts to rub up against a couple of the others, but that just makes them a little more paranoid. The fact that it seems singularly unfazed by any combat they engage in doesn’t help matters. When another living spell approaches and is annihilated from a distance with magic and arrows, the cat watches with interest and then begins to lick itself.


* The player (Atlatl Jones) decided that since he was going to take a non-proficiency penalty anyway, he was going to pick up a composite greatbow.


----------



## shilsen

About an hour later, the Angels see what looks like a ruined village, consisting almost entirely of piles of rubble. Midway between the village and them is another small pile which appears to be the remains of a small house. Sitting atop it with his head in his hands is a humanoid figure. The presence of such a figure in the Mournland would be strange enough, but this one also happens to be mostly transparent. Despite the others’ suggestion that they detour around him, Luna insists that they speak to the ‘cool see-through guy’ and Korm backs her up, having grown tired of trying to avoid things here.

He walks up, and when he is about fifty feet away, the figure jumps up and looks around, calling worriedly, “Who is it? Is anyone there?”

When he does, he looks right at Korm and doesn’t seem to see the Gatekeeper. Though it is difficult to be certain with his wispy and intangible figure, Korm gets the impression that he is blind. _Okay – that’s weird! Then again, this is the perfect place for it._ “Greetings,” he says, walking a couple of steps closer. “I am Korm. Who are you?”

The man’s head whips around at the sound of his voice and he stares right at Korm. Then he reaches down, picks up a near-transparent cane, and begins to walk towards the Gatekeeper. “The Host be praised! My name is Barnabas! There was an earthquake and I can’t find anyone and I’ve been stuck here for what seems like weeks! I’m so hungry and thirsty. Can you help me, please? I can’t find Rufus. I’m helpless without him and I’ve been searching for him everywhere!” The man’s voice is on the verge of panic.

_What?_ By this point, the others have walked over to join Korm, and he whispers, “This is insane, but I think he’s blind. And dead. And doesn’t know it. And is looking for somebody called Rufus.”

“Excuse me, Barnabas,” says Gareth as politely and soothingly as he can, “But can you tell us what Rufus looks like and how we can recognize him?”

The man seems a little perturbed at the new voice, but he answers, “He’s about this high,” indicating a level around his upper thigh, “And covered in red fur. He’s a really good dog and he comes immediately when you call. Very friendly.”

“Perfect!” Six says, softly and disgustedly, “We have a dead, blind man looking for his dog!”

Unfortunately, his tone isn’t as soft as could be. Barnabas’ head snaps up and he looks around. “Dead? Who’s dead?”

“You’re dead,” says Luna immediately. “Sorry.”

“What? Are you threatening me?” Barnabas backs away, waving his mostly non-existent cane desperately. “Don’t hurt me! I’m just a poor blind man!”

Nameless gives Luna a dirty look. “Thanks, Luna! I’m sure he needed that.” Then turning to Barnabas, he explains, “I’m sorry for my companion’s insensitivity, but you really are dead. It appears you are a ghost. And you’ve been here for the last four years, since Cyre was destroyed in the ‘earthquake’ you felt.”

Barnabas shouts, “Leave me alone, you bastards!” and turns and flees, can waving before him. And just as he reaches the edge of the rubble, runs into something solid, though only he can feel it. The scene is almost comical, as the ghost bounces off something, feels around desperately, opens something, shuts it and then huddles in a spot in plain view. 

“I think,” Nameless says thoughtfully, “His house still exists for him, maybe only because he believes it’s there. Fascinating!”

Gareth, who has now begun to _detect evil_ in the area, says, “He shows up as moderately evil, so he probably is an undead, like a ghost.”

“Interesting as all this is,” says Six, “We really need to move on.”

“No!” says Luna. “We need to help him and find his dog.”

“Seriously, Luna,” says Korm, “What is with you and pets?”

“Animals! A _real_ druid would understand!”

Nameless sighs and says, “Loath as I am to agree with Luna, it’s just possible that’s what is keeping him here. Some ghosts stay around due to unfinished business.” Gareth says, “Yes, that’s true, but I’ve never heard of anything like this.”

“Hello! Mournland!” With that said, Luna walks over to the pile of rubble that once was the blind man’s house. “He’s probably in here somewhere.” The giant bear begins to dig, causing the blind ghost to cry out in alarm. She ignores him for the most part, growling once or twice for him to shut up. The volume of earth Luna can move is amazing, and in a couple of minutes, she says, “Hey! I think I found it!”

As the others gather around, Luna unearths the corpse of not just a dog but of Barnabas too. From the looks of the bodies and their positioning, the man was killed instantly by something falling on his head, and the dog was attempting to drag his body out when the building collapsed on it. “Oh, that’s sad!” says Luna mournfully. Then she raises her voice and calls to Barnabas, who is huddled against an invisible wall with both arms wrapped around his head. “Hey, Barnabas! We found Rufus!”

The ghost looks up slowly, the sound of hope and tears in his voice. “Rufus? You found …” Then he stops and turns to look in a different direction, immediately causing all of the Angels to turn and look, some drawing weapons. But there is nothing there, or at least not for them. For the ghost it’s a different matter, since he clearly hears something. “Rufus? Rufus! Here, boy – here! Come to me!”

The ghost rises to his knees and then is shoved backwards by an invisible force. Which he promptly wraps his arms around and begins kissing, crying and muttering incoherently. As he does so, he begins to fade away.

The Angels watch in fascination as his shape quickly disappears. As the last vestige of the ghost disappears, somewhere on the very cusp of their hearing, there is a sound. A single, joyful bark. Then there is silence.

It is broken by the sound of a huge bear sniffling slightly. “Aww! That was sad!” Luna rubs the back of a paw against a suspiciously red pair of eyes and then says, “I think we did our good deed for the day. Should we search the village for stuff?”

“NO!” The rest of the Angels promptly turn and stride quickly away.

Some time after leaving the ruined village behind, the Angels spot a stream rising over a nearby hill and flowing by, a large loop of it crossing their path. The fact that its waters are a blood red would already draw attention, but it also happens to flow a good tend feet or so above the ground. Six and Nameless take one look at it, look at each other and say, “Yeah.” And promptly detour so as to give it a wide berth.

Leaving the river of blood behind, the group proceeds onwards without incident, until they come over the top of a rise to look down on a battlefield. This is the largest of the battlefields they have seen by far, a rough oval nearly a mile long littered with the bodies of the fallen. There are corpses of various species and sizes, at least a couple of them giant-sized. Though the sight of a battlefield is hardly unusual here, what does seem strange is the presence of a few hundred people. They move through the carnage, evidently looking for their loved ones, and the sound of their weeping carries to the Angels. Even stranger is the result of one of the mourners succeeding in their search. Whenever one finds a corpse they recognize, there is a cry of sorrow and then they fade away like smoke on the wind. And in their place remains a single black rose growing out of the ground. Scores of the flowers dot the battlefield. 

“I should stop saying this,” begins Luna, “But this really is…” 

At which point Six darts past her, heading for the battlefield at full speed. Nameless skims the ground a few feet behind the warforged, flying in the same direction.

“…very weird!” 

“Nameless! Six!” shouts Gareth, “What’s going on?”

“Stop talking and stop them!” shouts Korm, quickly summoning a _phantom stag_. “Fine,” says Luna, gesturing and casting too. Immediately, the rough grass around Six reaches up and writhes around his feet, trying to arrest his motion. He stumbles, tears himself free and keeps running, but the vegetation continues to try to _entangle_ him, substantially retarding his speed. It provides just enough time for a charging bear to throw itself onto the warforged, knocking him to the ground and pinning him down, as he disappears from sight under her bulk. 

Nameless is only mildly luckier, since Korm’s solution to the problem is to stick out an arm like a small tree limb while his stag rides at full speed past the alienist. The impact knocks the breath out of Nameless and flips him around in mid-air. The alienist lands flat on his face and as he pushes himself back up, Korm returns, grabs him and continues onwards. With the stag’s speed, they are next to Gareth a couple of seconds later. 

By this point, the paladin has cast a _magic circle against evil_, and as soon as Nameless enters it, his expression clears. Realizing immediately what happened, he says, “Damn! It was some kind of compulsion. I felt like I had to get there and find someone!” 

“Great! So is it gone now or do you have to stay in here?” asks Gareth.

“Don’t know. Korm, hold onto me.” The Gatekeeper nods, “Don’t worry – I’ll be gentle.” Nameless ignores the quip and steps out of the _magic circle_ cautiously. After a few seconds, he says, “It seems to be gone now.” 

“Hey!” yells Luna, from where she lies spread-eagled in the middle of the circle of grasping vegetation, shifting slightly back and forth. “If you idiots are done, can someone come over here and fix Six? He’s tickling me!” Then she pauses, and a happy grin crosses her face, as she shifts slightly and lowers her head slightly to address Six, who is now only visible as a bulge under her side. “Yes, that’s the perfect spot! A little harder, please!”

Korm grabs Gareth. “Quick! Before she starts getting _really_ happy!”

A few minutes later, Korm rides up to the expedition group and informs them that they need to take a large detour to avoid a problematic battlefield near their path. Once they have done so, they find the Angels waiting for them, ready to make camp. Even though night never dims the eternal corpse-light that shines on the Mournland, the two groups have been traveling long enough to need to rest now.

Nameless creates a _magnificent mansion_ for the entire group and they enter the extradimensional space one by one, the members of the expedition marveling at the lavish chambers inside. But when the Angels are about to do so, he shakes his head. “You’re not coming in there with the cat, Luna.”

“What? What’s wrong with Valthera?!”

“I don’t know. And I don’t intend to find out while I’m sleeping. It is _not_ coming in.”

The others take Nameless’ part and after some grumbling and threats of grievous bodily harm, Luna desists and says that she’ll stay outside with it. Nameless puts up a _rope trick_ for the cat and her, which the two of them disappear into. 

The rest of the Angels enter the _mansion_. As Nameless does so, the others notice wisps of fog appearing and flowing in behind him, but there is no untoward effect that they can see. Nevertheless, just to be on the safe side, they organize watches and arrange for multiple people to stay together during the night.

With all preparations taken care of, the Angels and their guests dine on the sumptuous meal that the spell provides and then fall asleep, wondering what the next day holds for them.


----------



## shilsen

The next update will take a little while, since I'm about to start teaching in a couple of days, but in case you're interested, I've made an update to my World's Worst Paladin thread here:

http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?p=4004723


----------



## ajanders

I see you found the julajimus, a monster I've always wanted to team up with a shirokinukatsukami and ixitchatl as the MONSTERS OF UNSPEAKABLE HORROR.

"Why?"
"Pronounce the names."

"Shirok -- Shirokatsu...shikookie...never mind. I can't speak the names either."


----------



## Rackhir

ajanders said:
			
		

> shirokinukatsukami




She-row-kin-nu-cat-sue-ka-me (For the english pronunciation).

Three years in Japan FTW! 

It help if you know that japanese words basically all come in consonant-vowel pairs. It's why "The Ring" is "Ringu" in japanese.

Itchi, itax, i...

I'm just not going there for that one though.


----------



## Rackhir

Well we survived the fight with the BBEG with the help of a couple of Limited Wishes (Good bye XP I knew thee well). What ever the hell it was. Of course things are still far from sweetness and light, in particular the Quori have a couple of hundred Warforged they can possess. On the bright side, we have a stone beholder (to be made into a fountain) and we have hit 15th.

HELLO MIND BLANK!!!


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:
			
		

> Well we survived the fight with the BBEG with the help of a couple of Limited Wishes (Good bye XP I knew thee well). What ever the hell it was. Of course things are still far from sweetness and light, in particular the Quori have a couple of hundred Warforged they can possess. On the bright side, we have a stone beholder (to be made into a fountain) and we have hit 15th.
> 
> HELLO MIND BLANK!!!





See you told them too much. I was just gonna post with "damn...."  - but my inet only just started working a moment ago.

Well hello light bright abilities!


----------



## shilsen

The next morning, the Angels and the members of the expedition emerge from the _magnificent mansion_ – and Luna from the _rope trick_, accompanied by the cat Valthera. As before, the Angels take a lead of about five hundred feet and proceed further into the Mournland.

Though strange sights continue to abound, the first truly inimical experience the group has occurs about an hour later, when half a dozen hulking creatures appear over the nearest rise. They are as tall as ogres and similarly muscled, at least below the waist. Above the waist, each consists of a pair of linked bodies, each slightly larger than human size. Thick, mottled gray hide covers their bodies and their faces are a bestial mixture of the worst features of human, orc and hobgoblin. As soon as the creatures sight the Angels, they scream wordless war-cries and charge, waving pairs of knotted warclubs wielded by the separate bodies that make up their composite forms. 

At Six’s suggestion, the Angels hold their position, Nameless and Luna summoning a screen of large and huge elementals to block the attackers, while Six and Gareth use their bows. Korm, however, sick of staying at a distance, summons a _phantom stag_, leaps on it and rushes forward to join the summoned creatures. The Gatekeeper fires an empowered _arc of lightning_ along the line that the attackers are being held at by the elementals. But he quickly discovers that while they lack his skill with a blade, the aberrant creatures possess even more strength than he does, and fighting off two clubs each as long as he is tall simultaneously is harder than he expected. Engaging two of them at once, he cuts one down, but is badly wounded by the time he does so, especially since he cannot use the healing spells he would normally do during a battle. To the amusement of the others, Korm shouts an orcish war-cry and then flees back to them as fast as he can.

The amusement is quickly replaced by surprise as Luna _summon_s another fire elemental to hold the line. The huge creature appears in the space that Korm occupied, its size dwarfing the enemies before it. And then turns around and rushes towards the Angels. Korm, just having brought the _phantom stag_ to a stop, turns just in time to take a giant flaming fist to the face. 

“Ow!” he shouts, backing away and trying to put out his eyebrows, “Damn it – Luna! If you didn’t want me to back out you could have just said so!”

“What the hell?!” A confused Luna shouts, “Get back in there!” at the elemental, but it simply responds by swinging another giant fist which Gareth barely dodges. Nameless quickly says, “It’s the Mournland affecting it! Dismiss it if you can!” Luna quickly speaks the appropriate words and to her relief, the elemental fades out of existence. 

Despite the minor setback, the Angels quickly dispose of the attackers, a pair of empowered _arc_s _of lightning_ finishing off whatever the summoned elementals and arrows have left alive. Once they are done, Nameless puts up a _rope trick_ so that the battered Gatekeeper can be healed. While doing so, they discuss what happened with Luna’s elemental.

“We’re just going to have to consider the possibility that some of the things you two summon won’t work as they should,” says Six. “At least it looks like you can still get rid of them.”

“This time,” points out Korm pessimistically.

“On the positive side, we’re all fine thus far,” says Gareth. “This idea of Six’s for staying at a distance and bringing in support works pretty well. If it wasn’t for the visibility and terrain, we’d be able to deal with them from even further away.”

“Can’t be helped,” says Nameless. “These hills don’t help.”

The point is emphasized about an hour later. As the Angels pass over a rise littered with armored corpses, apparently slain in one of the battles of the Last War, part of the hill rises up under them, causing Gareth and Korm to tumble off their feet. As Nameless looks down in surprise, another section detaches itself from the rest. It splits down the middle and then clamps shut around his waist with crushing force. 

As the others scatter, trying to put some distance between themselves and the strange attacker, the alienist blocks out the pain and gasps out the words of a _dimension door_, disappearing and reappearing some fifty feet away. Or so he plans. Instead, the Mournland’s arbitrary influence on magic makes him reappear only about ten feet below the Dead-Gray Mist. As he reappears, Nameless sees an eddy in the fog above him and a dark shape moving closer, and he quickly flies downwards.*

Luckily, nothing follows and he can give his attention to the ‘hill’ below. Now that he has a better vantage, Nameless can make out that what seemed to be part of the landscape is actually a gargantuan creature, supported on eight legs and with two huge claws extended before it. The corpses covering it seem to be stuck to its thick carapace, and four eyes on long stalks extend above them and look around hungrily at the other Angels. “Corpse crab!” shouts Nameless, recognizing the creature as one of the species unique to the Mournland.

“Hit it from a distance!” shouts Six, somersaulting in beneath a reaching claw to smash his chain into a leg, before retreating hurriedly. Korm and Luna have already backed away from the creature, which dwarfs even the shifter’s giant bulk, and while the Gatekeeper hammers the creature with a column of flame, Luna calls forth a huge elemental to keep it busy. 

Gareth, unfortunately, is a little slower than the others to retreat, having been tumbled off his feet during the first assault, and before he can reach a safe distance the corpse crab scuttles sideways at him. Gareth brings the Endless Blade down on the claw, putting a crack into it, but then it slams shut around his legs. As Gareth struggles vainly, the other claw clamps shut around his torso, pinning the paladin’s arms to his sides and leaving only part of his head showing. The elemental pounds into the back of its carapace, but the gigantic creature ignores it for the moment. The claws rise slightly into the air and then contract, attempting to crack Gareth like a nut.

“Crap!” Korm runs in, casting a spell as he does so, and skids to a stop besides the claws, reaching up to touch the foot protruding from beneath them. If Gareth were anything like a normal human being, it would be far too late, but like his companions, the paladin has significantly transcended the limits of normal humanity. Though badly bruised and feeling ribs creaking under the strain, he is still alive, and as Korm’s _freedom of movement_ takes effect he slips right out of the crab’s grasp. As the claws clash closed, Korm grabs Gareth and the two run before the surprised crab realizes what happened. Two more elementals pop up right behind them to cover their retreat.

Once they are safely out of range, they join the others in hurling spells and missiles. The corpse crab has incredible fortitude, but it is almost buried under a crowd of summoned creatures and magical explosions. When the dust and smoke clears, the gargantuan creature lies still and silent. 

Nameless floats down to land beside the others, looks at the scene and frowns. “All right – that’s weird!”

“This entire place is weird!” growls Gareth painfully.

“No, not the crab. That!”

Gareth turns to see a small tremor of movement between the giant corpse and an elemental still following its original orders and pounding at it. The cat Valthera, apparently completely unhurt, walks around the corpse and then gambols over to the Angels. All of whom immediately take a step back from it, except for Luna, who scoops it up with a giant paw and examines it carefully. “Oh, good – she’s not hurt!”

“And that doesn’t strike you as strange?” asks Six.

“Maybe she’s just lucky?” says Luna unconvincingly. “Anyway, you wussies need to stop complaining about her. Let’s go.”

Six shakes his head, and then turns to the others. “Hold on. How are you all doing when it comes to spells? We just had two really dangerous battles, and the only reason we came out of them mostly untouched is because of all the summonings and being able to stay at a distance. Can you keep doing that much longer?”

“No,” says Nameless emphatically. “I have expended all of my most powerful summons, including the one that calls Khat’vanga. All I have remaining are significantly weaker ones.”

Luna shrugs. “I’ve got some remaining, since I can swap out a prepared spell for a summon.” She gives Korm a dirty look. “You could do that if you were a real druid!”

The Gatekeeper chuckles and says to Six, “I’ve gone through my post powerful offensive spells too. But I’d prefer to go on. I think we can handle ourselves fine even without them, and in an emergency Nameless can pop out the _rope trick_s for healing purposes.”

Gareth looks worried. “I’m not sure I like that idea. That means an extra ten or fifteen seconds before we can heal.”

Korm sighs, “Yes, Gareth – I know you can’t heal here. Get over it!”

“I realize this may make Gareth a little more nervous,” says Nameless, “But that was my last _rope trick_ for the day. All I have left is the _mansion_.”

After some discussion, and a lot of complaining from Luna about how boring it will be to stop so soon after they started the day, the Angels decide that they are not going to continue onwards. By the time the discussion ends the expedition party has joined them, and Six explains that they will be stopping for the day.

Lamaan d’Cannith looks surprised at the information. “Are you certain that’s a good idea? We broke camp less than three hours ago, and we’ll be losing six or more hours of travel time. My people and I will go on even if you stop, but that does make things much riskier for us.” He glances at the gigantic carcass of the corpse crab lying nearby. “Admittedly we – well, you – seem to be running into far more creatures, especially really unusual and powerful ones, than any previous expedition I’ve heard of. Well, the ones that returned, I mean. But you seem to be doing just fine, so I’m not sure I understand why you’re so worried. If it makes you feel better we can stick closer to you and try to help.”

Nameless shakes his head. “We appreciate the offer, but the sort of things we’re running into are well out of your league, I think. And actually, I have a theory that we’re somehow attracting these creatures, and if we’re right, you’ll be safer without us. And once we do begin to move on, we can catch up to you in a jiffy. You’ll see us in less than 24 hours.”

Lamaan doesn’t look any the happier, but he nods. “Very well. Is there anythi…,” he begins, when Luna, who is sitting off on the side and grumbling to herself, interrupts. “Hey, guys! Come look at this!”

She points at the north-east. To the members of the expedition now standing near her, she is indicating a large black blur, the details of which are indistinct against the backdrop of the Dead-Gray Mist. But Luna’s preternatural sight sees thick vegetation. “It’s a forest.”

“What?” Lamaan hurries over and stares at the dark splotch for a few seconds. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” says Luna, and Six corroborates, “It’s a forest. A really big one.”

“There’s no large forest in this area,” says Lamaan. “Or anywhere in the Mournland, actually. One of the things the Day of Mourning did was eradicate most of the large vegetation.”

“Maybe it didn’t eradicate it. Maybe the trees just walked away?” Lamaan and many of those around him look at Luna as if she were crazy. She snorts at the expressions and waves a paw. “Because that forest is moving.”

“What?!”

Korm, his vision only a touch less acute than Luna’s, peers carefully at the distance. “She’s right. It’s coming closer. Moving slower than a human, but moving.”

“Come on!” says Luna excitedly, “Let’s go check it out!”

“NO!” chorus her companions.

As the druidess scowls, Six turns to Lamaan. “As you can see, especially strange things seem to happen around us. Why don’t you move on now? You don’t want to be caught by some strange mobile forest.”

While the expedition prepares to move on, Nameless puts up another _magnificent mansion_. The Angels then have to spend some time explaining to Luna that it is not a good idea for her to do a fly-by over the forest, and then persuading her that it’s preferable – especially considering how many hours they will be inside – for her to join them and leave the cat alone outside (since Nameless still absolutely refuses to take it inside). 

Once she finally agrees, they all step through the portal that leads to the extradimensional mansion beyond. Again, the others note that wisps of mist enter behind Nameless, this time thicker and darker than on the previous occasions. “I’m sure we’ll find out what that means sooner or later,” says Six, “And one thing’s for sure. If that forest is outside when we come out, we know it’s us the Mournland’s after.”

“It’s us,” says Korm with certainty. “It’s _always_ us.”

Nameless nods. “I am forced to agree. Sometimes I get the feeling there’s some sort of omnipresent malign entity watching our activities and manipulating them so that we have the maximum possible amount of suffering.”

“You mean the gods?” asks Gareth.

“No, something different. And much worse.” Nameless shrugs. “Anyway, there’s nothing we can do about it. So – who wants to get the Endless Blade to run another game for us?”


* I rolled randomly for a mishap and Nameless should have appeared inside the Dead-Gray Mist, but Rackhir pointed out that he’d just bought me a Pepsi, so I relented. My generosity knows no bounds.


----------



## shilsen

The hours pass without any mishaps and with relatively little boredom, Nameless manipulating the _mansion_’s chambers so that they have something to do, creating a gymnasium for the warriors to exercise in, a garden to keep Luna happy (and away from the rest of them), and so on. The only worrying thing is that the Angels are beginning to notice hints of shadowy movement out of the corners of their eyes, though there is never anything there when they look for it. 

Nevertheless, they get some rest, guarded by Six’s unsleeping vigilance, and awake refreshed and ready to move on. After an early and lavish breakfast served by the _unseen servant_s that populate the extradimensional building, they gather in the foyer, ready to leave. 

“Oh, great!” says Gareth, looking out of the entrance. Though the area beyond is dark, blurry and indistinct he can see enough to make out that the outside is covered with vegetation. “You were right about the forest, Six.”

More enthused about the prospect than the others, Luna growls, “See – you idiots should have let me check it out yesterday! Now let’s get out there and see what it is.” With that, she steps through the doorway.

Luna’s first thought as she emerges is that the area around her is still strangely indistinct. The second thought is that there’s something solid, sticky and glutinous all around her, resisting and restricting her movements. The third is that she’s on fire. 

The others, still inside the _mansion_, watch in some confusion as Luna lurches back and forth slowly and then roars loudly in irritation and pain, her hair and skin frizzling as small flames appear all over her giant form. Then, as she uses her bulk to break free of the restraining material and then turns to claw at it, Nameless realizes what it is. “It’s a living spell*! And a big one!”

The alienist and the others hurriedly begin to cast protective spells, while Luna is still ripping away at the giant ooze-like creature outside. Six is the first to join her, the combination of a _freedom of movement_ and a _protection from energy_ letting him leap out into the creature and through it, emerging with his chain ripping long swathes out of it. By the time Korm follows there is not much of the creature left, and the three of them quickly reduce it to nothing. By then Luna, who has borne almost all of the assault, is badly burned, and she re-enters the _mansion_ to heal herself.

Then she emerges with Nameless and Gareth to examine the area outside. There is truly a forest around the entrance to the _mansion_, looking completely out of place for the Mournland. Large trees with thick lush growth and bright green foliage surround the Angels. The undergrowth is equally rich and healthy, with flowers blooming brightly on bushes and growing out of the grass. Only one thing seems awry. The Dead-Gray Mist hangs only thirty feet overhead, with the upper branches of the taller trees extending into it. 

Or two things, to be more precise. Even though the forest appears thick and healthy, that is only the case wherever one looks directly. Somehow, the peripheral vision of the Angels tells them that they are surrounded by a petrified forest of blackened and scorched trees, with no ground vegetation. But whenever they actually look at something, they see it as lush and rich. 

“The forest isn’t real!” says Six emphatically. Nameless grimaces and cocks his head at him. “Really? You think?!” He looks around. “One thing’s for sure – I’m not picking up any magical auras here. Not that it means anything here, of course.”

“Yeah, yeah,” growls Luna, moving around the area with an ursine frown, “But where’s Valthera?”

“I get the feeling that cat can take care of itself,” says Gareth. “Let’s get out of here, shall we? Nameless – do you still have a direction to the Seed?”

“Yes. That direction. But it’s a lot more muted than it was earlier. I presume this forest is interfering with it somehow.”

“Well, let’s get out of here then,” says Korm, “And do it fast.” He casts a _phantom stag_. And absolutely nothing happens, even though he feels the magical energy flow through his mind as it is expended. “Okay – that’s new!”

“Everything here is new,” says Six, his voice featuring the scowl his face cannot. “Let’s get a move on.” 

The group heads in the direction that Nameless indicates, making as fast time as they can, considering the thick undergrowth. After a few minutes of pushing through the vegetation, Korm, Six and Gareth decide to ride Luna, whose bulk allows her to push aside anything in her way. With the three on her back and Nameless flying behind them, they continue into the forest, which seems to stretch as far as they can see. As they go on, one of the interesting things they quickly notice is that there is absolutely no animal life that they can detect, either by sight or sound. 

A quarter of an hour after they leave, the Angels glimpse a number of people amongst the undergrowth ahead. After a few moments of cautious study, it’s clear that they are not moving, and they do not respond to a friendly hail. When the Angels move up to them, they find it to be a large number of petrified figures in the middle of a small clearing. In the center are a small crowd of people, dressed like travelers. They are huddled together and clutching each other, while some are on their knees, clearly praying. Most of the flesh seems to have been blasted off their bones, yet their clothes and belongings are immaculate. All of them face in one direction, the one the Angels are heading in. A priest of Dol Arrah stands before them, clutching his holy symbol with one hand, the other held up as if he were blessing the group. A semicircle of soldiers stands before and around them, evidently trying to protect the travelers. They wear Brelish and Cyran uniforms but are intermingled, as if working together. Their perfectly preserved faces, none of which are missing any flesh, are calmly and resignedly resolute, as if facing an inevitable fate with determination.

“I’d really like to know what happened here,” says Luna, prowling around the strange group. 

“But we’re not in a position to find out,” says Six, “And we don’t have the time. Come on.” The others quickly comply.

“You guys never let me do anything fun!” protests Luna, but she does follow along. 

There is, however, no stopping Luna when the Angels suddenly find a rock in the middle of the forest. Sitting on top of it is a lovely pearl necklace. The bear skids violently to a stop, sending her three riders tumbling. Six adroitly lands on his feet, but Gareth and Korm land face-first. “Dammit, Luna!” shouts the Gatekeeper, sitting up and spitting out dirt and grass. “Don’t do that!”

Luna ignores him, already having rushed over to the necklace. “It’s so pretty!” Changing back into her shifter form, she picks it up. Nameless quickly says, “Don’t do that!”

Luna stares at him. “Why not?”

“Because it’s a magical necklace sitting on a rock in the Mournland!”

“Magical? It’s magical too? Cool!” 

Nameless sighs and rubs a tentacle over his brow. _I shouldn’t have mentioned that._ Knowing that saying anything further will do nothing to stop her, he watches the necklace carefully as she places it around her neck. Multiple moderately powerful magical auras are visible to his _arcane sight_, and then as Luna dons it, he sees the auras flow outwards to wash invisibly over her form, before returning to the necklace. _Yeah – that’s just great!_ “Whatever I say, you’re going to keep it, right?”

“Right. Don’t I look pretty in it? I wonder if I can retain it in wildshape form.” Luna transforms back into a giant bear, and the pearls continue to gleam around her throat, hanging just above the _necklace of adaptation_ she normally wears. “Excellent!”

The rest of the Angels exchange glances and shake their heads collectively. Korm sums up everyone else’s opinion. “If someone’s going to take it off her, it’s not going to be me.”

Luna waves a large paw rudely at him. “Good. Now get back on. We have places to go and hopefully more jewelry to find. I could use a tiara!”

Once the others mount up, Luna again continues through the forest. Her next stop is when the trees ahead open onto a clearing some two hundred feet across, full of a field of thick corn. Sticking out above the eight foot high corn in various places are wooden frames with what seem to be scarecrows on them. Each is clearly a corpse of some kind, stretched out on the sticks, with a small sign hanging around its neck. There is something scrawled on each sign in small handwriting, and a child’s toy hangs from the bottom of each. The writing is too small for most to see at this distance, but with their preternatural vision, some of the Angels can see that each one reads, “I loved mummy/daddy/uncle/granny but he/she left me.”

As the Angels are looking at them, a small boy, seeming about seven or eight years old, sticks his head out of the stalks of corn. He smiles at them but says nothing. The head is low to the ground, as if he were lying on his belly, and nothing else of the body can be seen. 

Luna looks at the boy, at the corpses and back at it. “You’re a very bad little boy. And you need a spanking.” The child cocks his head slightly, looking at her speculatively, and then swiftly pulls his head in and disappears into the corn. For just a second, there is a glimpse of what seem to be coils like a snake where a body should be, and then he is gone. As the bear takes a step after him, Six says, “We are _not_ going in there! Go around and let’s keep going.”

“Oh, come on!” growls Luna. “What kind of adventurers are you?!” 

“The kind who are trying to stay alive,” replies Nameless. “Now let’s go.”

A grumbling Luna continues on, with Nameless flying behind her, until she emerges from a stand of trees to find herself in front of the first real rise in the landscape that they have seen since entering the strange forest. In front of her is a small hillock with a gaping cave opening. Set into the rough stone around the opening are five crystal shards, each resembling the Key which the Angels spent so much time dealing with earlier. The cave extends in about ten feet and turns a corner, from around which a dull yellow light emanates. From around the corner come a strange collection of sounds and voices. There is the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and the gasping and moaning of two voices, one male and one female, sounds which fit a pair currently involved in coitus. But accompanying them are two more voices, also male and female, sobbing and whimpering as if in pain.

Nameless takes a quick look around and says, “Don’t stop – keep going!” 

“But we should find out what those voices are!” protests Luna. “And look at the shards. I don’t like shards much, but maybe we can use them. Are they magical?”

“No. And we really don’t need to…”

Before Nameless can finish, the source of the sounds emerges around the corner of the tunnel. Part of it is a human man and an elven woman, and just as the sounds indicated, they are vigorously engaged in sexual intercourse. Each of them has a prominent dragonmark, Nameless recognizing them as the Mark of Making which House Cannith features and the Mark of Shadow which Houses Phiarlan and Thuranni possess. The dragonmarks are easy to see, since the two are completely naked, or at least as much as one can see, since their bodies only exist to just below the genitals and buttocks. Where the tops of their thighs begin, growing in the opposite direction, are another pair of human female and elven male, similarly dragonmarked and joined to the previous pair at the thighs. While the first pair continue copulating with no sign of noticing the Angels, this latter pair stare desperately at them and drag the four conjoined bodies painfully over the floor of the tunnel, gasping, “Help! Please – help us!”

If this strange sight and situation was not enough, there is more. As the first couple continues to have sex, streams of thick, gray maggots spray out of their genitalia. Whichever of them land on the other pair of figures instantly start burrowing into their flesh, the skin purpling and rotting wherever they touch. The afflicted man and woman sob and whimper in pain, desperately clawing at the maggots and the diseased flesh, ripping it away in gobbets and flinging it away, where it dissolves instantly. The torn and bleeding flesh heals instantly as they rip at it, only to again be penetrated by the maggots, and be ripped away again, and so on. 

“Oh – gross!” says Luna. “What should I do?”

“Just _flame strike_ it – now!”

Luna quickly complies, bringing down a column of flame to envelop the conglomerate creature. As the magical fire disappears, it reveals the four bodies, now clearly dead, with flesh scorched black and smoking. And then, a second later, the flesh begins to lighten and change, as the bodies begin to heal.

“Screw it! I’m going on,” says Nameless, flying away. With urging from Six, Korm and Gareth, Luna turns and lumbers after him, growling, “I’m really getting sick of this place! I just wish we could get out of here. And find something to kill!”

Luna’s wish is quickly granted. Less than a couple of minutes later, the Angels suddenly hear the whisper of movement around them and catch flashes of movement. As they prepare to put themselves in a posture of defense, enemies leap out of the bushes and down from the trees around them. They appear to be thin children, perhaps ten years old at most, but their mouths are missing, with only flat featureless flesh where lips should be. Their arms are incredibly long, twice as long as their bodies, and flattened out like ribbons, ending not in hands but a large flat disc of flesh. The ‘children’ number two dozen and attack as soon as they appear, striking extremely quickly with their elongated arms. The blows are quite powerful, and more problematically, with their large number, makes most of the Angels feel as if they were being assaulted by an unstoppable hail of attacks.

Luckily, all of the adventurers are now incredibly resistant to damage, and after the initial surprise, are actually somewhat relieved to have real enemies to fight. They strike back with a storm of spells and weapons, but with a little less effect than they would have liked. Nameless _summon_s a group of giant pseudonatural centipedes, but like Korm’s previous attempt to call forth a _phantom stag_, it has no effect. Luna fires a powerful _arc of lightning_ through half a dozen of the children, and is thoroughly disgusted as four of them adroitly leap out of the way. Two are too slow, however, and collapse to the ground. As they do, their bodies morph and change in seconds, turning into those of malnourished children and bearing the scorch marks of Luna’s spell. As Korm, Gareth and Six cut down others, the same occurs.

The battle rages on, the Angels slowly cutting down the mutated children but constantly taking wounds as they do so. The fact that they cannot call upon their considerable healing powers makes things significantly more difficult for them. Nameless is in especially dire straits, since one of the children leaps onto his back, writhing its tentacular arms around his neck and constricting his throat. Unable to speak even the words of a _dimension door_ so that he can put some distance between himself and the attackers, the hapless alienist feels another child writhe its arms around his leg and pull him to the ground, while others batter his head and torso with painful blows. 

Realizing that Nameless has only seconds of life left, Luna hurriedly touches him and casts an _envigorating cocoon_ on him. Though the spell cannot heal him here, as the greenish-yellow globe of force extends to envelop his body, the spell forces away the creatures that are holding onto Nameless. With him safe, Luna tears into the children, alternately using her natural weapons and her spells.

One by one, the attackers go down, but none of them show the slightest inclination to flee. As the last one drops, its body and the surrounding forest shimmer, and then fade away. Leaving the Angels, all battered and seriously bloodied, standing back in the ‘normal’ Mournland in the middle of a small village. Sitting in front of them are the cat Valthera, a _phantom steed_ and five pseudonatural centipedes, all wearing expressions of animalistic – and insectoid – patience. 



* Living Firestorm, to be precise.


----------



## ajanders

I blame the gnomes.


----------



## javcs

ajanders said:
			
		

> I blame the gnomes.



I blame Valthera. It's always the 'cat'.


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> I blame the gnomes.






			
				jacvs said:
			
		

> I blame Valthera. It's always the 'cat'.




Ah, but what if the cat is actually a gnome? Maybe even a female gnome. After all, the only thing scarier than the daelkyr would be gnomish catgirls.


----------



## The_Warlock

shilsen said:
			
		

> After all, the only thing scarier than the daelkyr would be gnomish catgirls.




Well, they don't burrow...so while admittedly disturbing, gnomish badgergirls and gnomish molegirls, more in keeping racially, I find more inherently scary. Now they can tunnel straight to your heart.


----------



## Bloodcookie

Shilsen, I hope your players were sufficiently disturbed by some of the things you've populated the Mournland with - I approve, anyway!  Have you been reading a lot of Clive Barker, by any chance?


----------



## javcs

That obviosly means it's a daelkyr-bred weregnome* cat.


* Can take the form of a gnome, a 'burrowing mammal', or a HYBRID form. Can be applied to any non-gnome, automatically grants 10 levels in the CLOWN PRC.

Yes, that means that dragon? It's a were-gnome dragon. That ooze? Weregnome. That- Weregnome.   

Welcome to this place, we call it - AHH! NOT THE WEREGNOME CLOWNS!


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> Ah, but what if the cat is actually a gnome? Maybe even a female gnome. After all, the only thing scarier than the daelkyr would be gnomish catgirls.




Then we found Killian a girlfriend


----------



## Furby076

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> Shilsen, I hope your players were sufficiently disturbed by some of the things you've populated the Mournland with - I approve, anyway!  Have you been reading a lot of Clive Barker, by any chance?





I was exhausted from a skiing expedition from the previous day so i slept through some of the stuff - especially the sex thing. I am pretty sure if I was awake I would have tried to turn undead, dismissal, exorcism, and some other cleric/exorcist abilities - they were just being punished for commingling.


----------



## shilsen

The_One_Warlock said:
			
		

> Well, they don't burrow...so while admittedly disturbing, gnomish badgergirls and gnomish molegirls, more in keeping racially, I find more inherently scary. Now they can tunnel straight to your heart.






			
				javcs said:
			
		

> That obviosly means it's a daelkyr-bred weregnome* cat.
> 
> 
> * Can take the form of a gnome, a 'burrowing mammal', or a HYBRID form. Can be applied to any non-gnome, automatically grants 10 levels in the CLOWN PRC.
> 
> Yes, that means that dragon? It's a were-gnome dragon. That ooze? Weregnome. That- Weregnome.
> 
> Welcome to this place, we call it - AHH! NOT THE WEREGNOME CLOWNS!




I love it 

*runs off to stat stuff up*



			
				Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> Shilsen, I hope your players were sufficiently disturbed by some of the things you've populated the Mournland with - I approve, anyway!  Have you been reading a lot of Clive Barker, by any chance?




Sadly, I think I've innoculated them a fair bit already with the things that have shown up in the game, and I think they (not just the PCs, but the players) were running through some of the stuff trying to get past it with as little contact as possible. Plus my players have decided a long time ago that I'm totally twisted, so it's nothing new. But making the most powerful adventurers in Eberron run like hell and giving them a hard time with CR5 enemies (the weird children were mechanically choker Monk2/Rogue3s) was still a lot of fun.

As for Barker, I've read almost nothing of his work. I read one short story over a decade ago, I think, which I vaguely recall liking, but that's it. I gather from what I've heard that he'd suit my tastes fairly well.



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> I was exhausted from a skiing expedition from the previous day so i slept through some of the stuff - especially the sex thing. I am pretty sure if I was awake I would have tried to turn undead, dismissal, exorcism, and some other cleric/exorcist abilities - they were just being punished for commingling.




Actually, there was some other interesting stuff going on, and if the PCs had spoken to them they might have learned some stuff about the creation of the Mournland which basically nobody on the planet knows. I almost threw that info in later anyway, but then I restrained myself. The game's all about PC choices, after all, and this choice means some options for the future are now closed. Of course, the PCs don't know that and may never find out.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> Actually, there was some other interesting stuff going on, and if the PCs had spoken to them they might have learned some stuff about the creation of the Mournland which basically nobody on the planet knows. I almost threw that info in later anyway, but then I restrained myself. The game's all about PC choices, after all, and this choice means some options for the future are now closed. Of course, the PCs don't know that and may never find out.




From an email exchange.



			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Six and Gareth turn ethereal. As soon as they appear among the ghosts, the ghosts’ expressions of hopelessness and apathy disappear. With shrieks of what seem to be mingled pain, anger and hope, they surge forward. Since they are all solid on the ethereal plane, only the front rank can reach Six and Gareth, but they swarm around them (especially since they can move in all dimensions here), trying to attack. Most are unable to do so due to the Sanctuary spells, but some manage to touch them. A couple attempt to drain their energy but the protective spells keep them safe. A couple of others manage to do a little damage. Others unleash terrifying howls, which have no effect on Gareth, but unfortunately, the volume of the attacks overwhelms Six and panics him. Others take on strange appearances which have a weirdly magical effect, causing some damage even though the spells protect them. Some of the ghosts also gesture and Gareth and Six feel bands of mental energy seizing them, and even though they fight off most they cannot resist them all.
> 
> Unfortunately, someone else has bigger problems. Nameless is watching the entire thing, and all the gaze attacks and other effects that bounce off Six’s and Gareth’s protections affect him. Badly. Even though such effects should be unable to affect someone on the material plane from the ethereal plane.
> 
> Situation by PC:
> 
> Gareth - 50 hp damage, telekinetically grappled by 1
> 
> Six - 20 hp damage, telekinetically grappled by 1, panicked for 5 rounds (since there's nowhere for Six to go now, he's cowering)
> 
> Nameless - 18 hp damage, 5 pts Cha damage, 5 pts Str damage, 7 pts Con damage, 4 pts Dex damage




As Six's player put it. This is why we never talked to anything in the Mournland.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:
			
		

> From an email exchange.
> As Six's player put it. This is why we never talked to anything in the Mournland.




Not Exactly - Six would have said "This is why we never talked to anything in Sharn".    Thank the Silver Flame for all the protection spells we threw up.  The bit about Nameless getting affected totally caught us by surprise - otherwise we would have protected him too.

In shils campaign putting on horse blinders and running straight by "distractions" is the best course of action.  I wouldn't be surprised if that was an encounter Shil planned for us at level 1 - just in case we found a way to go ethereal 

EDIT: Milestone 100th post


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:
			
		

> In shils campaign putting on horse blinders and running straight by "distractions" is the best course of action.  I wouldn't be surprised if that was an encounter Shil planned for us at level 1 - just in case we found a way to go ethereal




Not at 1st level, but only because you weren't in the Mournland then. Now if you had gone in there, I would have been happy to oblige 

* * * * * * * * * *

Luna promptly grabs up the cat and begins to play with her, while the others look around the village. Small but sturdy houses surround them, and a fair-sized main street leads through the place, with smaller streets winding off between the buildings. The place looks like just another prosperous village in Breland or Aundair, except for the fact that it is deserted and the brooding presence of the Dead-Gray Mist above it. The only sound in the area besides that made by the Guardian Angels is the soft ringing of many bells coming from the far end of the village. They sound like hand-bells and ring constantly, though not in any coordinated manner. 

“Which way is the seal?” asks Six. Nameless points in the same direction as the source of the bells. 

“Fine,” says Gareth, “Let’s just get out of this place. It can’t be any worse than that damn forest.” 

Korm looks at the _phantom stag_ that has been waiting for him. “Should Luna and I summon a few more so we can ride through?”

Six says, “No. We don’t know what’s in here and we need the stags to make sure we catch up to the expedition group. Let’s get through the place first and then you can summon them.”

The Angels pass on through the village. As they walk along, they notice a few unusual things, though naturally by this point they expect something or other of the kind. The wall of every building they pass has the word “Why?” written on it in blood, all in the same handwriting.

“I’m tempted to write ‘Because’ beneath one,” Nameless says dryly, “But not tempted enough.”

“Shouldn’t we check a couple of the houses?” asks Luna. “There might be interesting things in them. Like this!” She happily paws at the pearl necklace around her neck. 

“What part of ‘Mess with as little of the Mournland as you can’ don’t you understand?” asks Six.

“Listen, I know what you wussies think!” growls Luna. “But look at all the houses! There’s nobody here!” She waves a paw at a nearby building. “That’s a nice big house and it probably has…”

As she is speaking, large sections of the various walls facing the Angels simply fade away and become transparent, allowing them to see what lies within. All of the rooms look like as if their inhabitants just stepped out, with food lying half-eaten on plates, discarded clothes left in the process of dressing, and furniture appearing as if it had just been moved by someone rising from a seat. 

One of the rooms the Angels can look into is a sitting room, with a painting over the mantelpiece of several young men, obviously related, happy and smiling as they pose in their Cyran uniforms around an elderly lady. An old rocking chair sits facing the picture, rocking slowly. In another house, a folded wedding dress lies on a bed, ready to be worn. Scattered around the room are various accoutrements that a woman would use while preparing for a wedding. A small painting of a handsome man sits on the table, and a dozen red roses sit in a vase, untouched and still apparently fresh. In the house opposite, a child's music box sits inside a playroom, still playing a merry tune which the Angels can now hear. 

“Wow!” Luna promptly walks up to the nearest transparent wall and pushes on it. “Yes, the wall’s still there. Come on – let’s go in!”

“What part of magically transparent walls and houses that seem a little alive makes that seem a good idea?” asks Gareth.

“Hey – there’s a self-rocking chair! When the babies come along, that’ll be very nice.” Luna turns and, after resuming her shifter form, heads into the house. The rest of the Angels exchange glances, sigh and head in behind her. 

Entering the room with the continuously rocking chair, Luna notices that drops of water fall constantly from two spots above it, like tears from a pair of invisible eyes. She waves a hand through the area and finds nothing, only getting her hand a little wet. “Sorry, whoever you are,” Luna says, “But I’ll take care of your chair. Okay, Nameless – where’s the _portable hole_?” After collecting the chair, she proceeds to the room with the wedding garb and collects as much as she can, before finally agreeing to move on. As the group does so, the sound of the child’s music box follows them.

Korm stops suddenly, and so do the others. “Did you feel that?” the Gatekeeper asks. “Movement under our feet, as if something was burrowing under the ground? Something big!”

“Yes,” say the others, readying weapons and spells. When there is no immediate attack, they continue on warily.

They have taken only a few steps when sheets of paper and parchment float out of various nearby windows and fly to them, floating in front of or fluttering gently around the group like the strangest flock of butterflies. Luna reaches up to grab a few, and when she does so they cease all motion. So do the others, floating gently to the ground around the Angels All of them seem to be letters, many unfinished and every one in a different hand. One is from a young woman to her uncle in Sharn, saying how happy she is that the current peace will let her come to visit him. Another is from a young soldier to his girlfriend, saying that he has been granted leave and will see her in two weeks. One is simply a crude picture, evidently drawn by a child, showing a family and signed, ‘For daddy, with love.’ There is one similarity between them all. Each has the same date, the Day of Mourning.

“That’s sad,” says Luna, “Let’s take them. Maybe at some point we’ll find the people they were addressed to and can hand them over.”

_And depress them even more than they probably already are._ Despite the thought, Korm doesn’t bother arguing but simply puts the letters away. 

Continuing on, the Angels find themselves finally nearing the end of the village. As they do so, they realize that the still present ringing sounds emanate from a small graveyard adjoining the village. Nearing it, they see that many of the graves have been fitted with bells, each attached to a rope leading below the ground. Though rare, this is sometimes done in areas with very limited medical resources, to make sure that people in the coffins can pull them for help in case they are buried by error. All of the bells are ringing. 

“No,” says Nameless, before Luna can make any suggestions to the contrary, “We are not opening any graves.” He quickly proceeds around the low stone wall that surrounds the cemetery.

“Look!” says Gareth. Following his pointing finger, the others see small movements around the graveyard. The heads of all the small stone figures on the graves are turning to face them. The Angels have faced many theoretically stranger sights, but there is something significantly eerie about being the focus of the inscrutable gaze of dozens of sightless stone eyes. 

And then they again feel a movement beneath them. It is slow but certain, as if some giant snake or worm were crawling through the ground under their feet, and that’s all that the Angels need. “Luna! Korm!” Six says sharply, “We need your stags. Now!” Nameless is already casting, and a semi-solid horse appears beside him. The druids quickly comply, summoning _phantom stag_s to join the one already present, and less than a minute later, the Angels are soaring away from the village at tremendous speed on the flying mounts. Behind them, the small stone statues turn their heads further to watch them depart. 

The magical stags and steed soar a good sixty feet above the surface of the Mournland, high enough to ignore most of the low hills but a safe distance away from the overhanging Dead-Gray Mist. Traveling at the top speed of the slowest mount, Nameless’ _phantom steed_, the quasi-real creatures race across the terrain, covering in minutes what it would have taken them a day of hard walking to accomplish.

Only a few minutes after leaving the village behind, the Angels spot a figure standing at the top of a hill half a mile directly ahead of them. In seconds, they can recognize the Phiarlan who had met them shortly after they began traveling into the Mournland. As they near him, he raises a hand and says, “Hello again!” But by the time he finishes the words, they are two hundred feet past him, and they keep on going. 

“I wonder what he had to say,” comments Korm, looking back at the dwindling figure. Riding near him and looking ahead, Six says shortly, “I don’t.”

A few minutes later, the Angels spot a depression in the ground, nearly a thousand feet across. It is completely bare of all vegetation and dotted with humanoid shapes buried up to their waists with arms raised to the sky. All of them are immobile and seemingly made of glass. The only thing that moves in the area is in the center, where a large monolith, an obelisk that looks like it is made of basalt, points towards the Mist above. In the center of the obelisk is a huge eye the size of a man’s head, which shifts back and forth constantly. It rolls around to watch the Angels, who quickly turn their mounts to give the area a very wide berth.

A couple of times, the Angels spot living spells, which immediately turn and move in their direction even if they are thousands of feet away, but they are left behind in seconds.  

Finally, a little over a dozen miles from the spot where they left, the Angels catch up to the expedition and fly down to speak to them. Lamaan is happy to see them and confirms that the expedition has had little trouble since they left the Angels, only having to dispatch a few living spells along the way. “But there is something very strange. We’re well over a day’s travel closer to our destination than we should be,” he says. Lamaan points at the horizon, where a huge rise of land stretches as far as the eye can see in the Mournland’s limited visibility. “See that? It’s the Glass Plateau. The camp of the Lord of Blades is supposed to be a couple of miles inside its borders, and considering it’s only about five miles away, we should reach it easily before nightfall. But we should still be a good thirty miles or so from this spot, considering how much distance we’ve covered. I know time and distance often work differently in the Mournland, but this is really unusual.” He smiles a little and looks at the Angels. “Strange things really do seem to happen around you.”

“Comes with the territory,” says Nameless. “We’ll be heading on then. If we see anything that you need to know about, we’ll be back. Best of luck.”

The Angels mount up and only a few minutes later, are coming up on the Glass Plateau. This area, one of the strangest creations of the Mournland, is a highland plateau of smooth, glasslike formations. The surface is mostly smooth and flat, though jagged spikes and spires jut up from the ground here and there. The ‘glass’ (actually an unusual crystal) is light and translucent near the edges, and is almost white where it forms short jagged cliffs that descend to the lowlands. The Angels spot a large path carved or hammered out of it, the one which supposedly leads towards the Lord of Blades’ camp. It heads into the plateau, winding between the various rises and depressions. Of course, the Angels simply soar in a straight line above it.

Within a quarter of a mile of the spot where the road begins, they find the shattered remnants of what was apparently a watch tower made of wood and metal. Numerous bodies lie nearby. Flying down, the Angels find them to be of multiple species – warforged, humans, half-elves, and hobgoblins. They have been looted, but otherwise treated with respect, being stacked in neat rows.

Continuing onwards, the Angels find that the plateau’s crystal structure darkens as they go on and takes on an almost stony appearance. There are dim flashes of light in its depths, but they have no intention of stopping to investigate. After having traveled nearly three miles into the plateau, some of them spot movement a few hundred feet ahead. It turns out to be two warforged running away from them. As the Angels flash over their heads, Gareth glances questioningly at Six. The warforged shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to stop. I’d rather see their camp first.” He points ahead, at an area which has just appeared behind a rise ahead. “And that must be it.” The words are punctuated by the sound of exploding thunderstones, as the warforged they left behind stop to detonate them, presumably to warn their friends. 

The area ahead contains the ruins of what was, according to the maps of pre-Mourning Cyre that the Angels had studied, a small industrial town which had arisen around a Cannith enclave. Now the place is utterly desolate, consisting only of piles of rubble which barely resemble the original buildings. The only real dwellings are within one large section of the area, which has been separated from the rest of the town by a makeshift wall, and even these ones seem to have taken significant damage. The wall is made of mingled wood, stone and metal, evidently taken from the remnants of the original town. Four warforged are visible on the wall and others can be seen moving within the area. They are clearly expecting trouble, and they point and level weapons at the flying interlopers.

“I’ll handle this,” says Six. “Let’s land and the rest of you wait while I go in.”

While following Six down to the ground, Gareth asks, “Are you sure you don’t want us along? I don’t think they’ll be that friendly.”

_Not if I take you along, they won’t._ “I think I can get them to talk if just I show up. And if they’re hostile, you’re close enough to reach me in a hurry. Seriously, I should do this alone.”

Having left the mounts and his companions on a rise from which they can see the warforged camp and be seen in turn, Six descends to the path leading to the wall and heads for it. As he nears them, he lifts his hands to show that he carries no weapons. One of the warforged on the wall aims a crossbow at him and shouts, “Stop! Who are you? Why are you here?”

“My name is Mithral Six of Six,” Six explains in his most diplomatic* tone. He pauses for a second, but for once, there is no sign of recognition from his interlocutor. _I guess they don’t get the Chronicle here. And that’s probably a good thing._ “I wish to speak to your leader. I have important news for him.”

The warforged guards whisper among themselves and then the same one asks, “Who are those people you came with? Why are they waiting there? They are not warforged!” The tone of voice for the last phrase is akin to one saying that someone is a murderer or mentally deficient.

“No, they are not warforged, but they are my companions. They mean you no harm, which is why I left them there. I will come in alone if you allow me. And I think your leader will want to hear me.”

After a little more discussion, one of the guards descends, while the others still watch Six suspiciously. A few seconds later, a large gate swings open, to reveal half a dozen armed warforged. “Come in,” says the guard. “Don’t make any sudden moves or we will have to kill you.”

_You can try._ “Of course,” says Six in the same tone, before walking in. The other warforged fall in around him and they head deeper into the area at a brisk pace. Hearing raised voices behind him, Six glances back to see the two warforged the Angels had flown over come running up to the gate, where they begin to talk to the guards. Since nobody asks him to stop, Six turns around and continues to follow his escorts.

The area around him, he quickly notes, is a shambles. The buildings seem to have been constructed from the remnants of the earlier town and many of them have then suffered further damage. Many of them are scorched and some have large sections that were broken and never repaired. At least one battle has taken place here. The inhabitants of the camp are all warforged, Six seeing over two dozen, all of whom stop to watch him and his guards pass by. All are heavily armed but lacking any human clothing except for belts, backpacks and pouches. They also seem shabby and disheveled in comparison to Six’s gleaming state. A couple of them turn and shout a warning that there’s a stranger in the camp.

Six’s escort halts in front of a large, flat structure as an oddly dressed warforged steps out. He carries a staff made of what appears to be roughly carved stone and wears a number of gewgaws around his neck and chest, the largest of them being a stylized warforged head. He studies Six silently for a few seconds and then asks, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

Six introduces himself again and then says, “My companions and I are traveling through the Mournland on some important work, but I am interested in the Lord of Blades and this place, so I stopped here along the way. I also wished to warn you that an expedition from House Cannith, with Deneith mercenaries and warforged soldiers, is coming here.”

The staff-wielding warforged growls angrily, and those around them mutter angrily and some raise their weapons. “Traitors!” snarls the warforged speaking to Six. “We will deal with them when they get here. But what is your interest in this?”

“First, if you don’t mind, would you tell me your name?”

“I am Preacher. Now answer my question.”

“Then, Preacher, this is my intention. I am very interested in the situation and position of the warforged in the world. Thanks to my companions, I have traveled further than most people, including to Xen’drik, and I have seen some interesting things about their origins. I want to find a place where our people can go and where we can build new warforged. And I mean warforged created by ourselves, rather than by others. The five nations,” he glances around at the Mournland, “Or rather, now four, have decided how warforged should be created or not, and that is disturbing to me. I know some warforged – you, for example – have made a home here, but even though this place is not as bad for us as it is for other species, I think we can find a better place to live than the Mournland.”

Preacher’s impassive metal face radiates a certain degree of approval. “That is good to hear,” he says slowly, “But what of these people you travel with? What do they think of the warforged?”

Six thinks of a conversation he once had with Luna – or more precisely, listened to Luna – when she informed him how cool it would be to find a lot of warforged in the Mournland and turn them into pirates because nothing is better than pirates who do not need to breathe or sleep and might float because they are partly made of wood. _Yeah!_ “I do not think they fully understand us and my thoughts about the position of warforged in the world, but they are supportive of me and of the idea that the warforged should be treated as anyone else.”

“Very well,” says Preacher. “What do you wish to do here now?”

“I would have liked to stay and discuss more things with you, but I have some urgent things to do. I also want to keep the expedition away from here if I can.”

Preacher shrugs. “Do so if you can. But if they come here, we will defend ourselves.”

“All right. It was a pleasure to speak to you. I shall return when I can.”

Preacher reaches into a pouch and produces a battered metal badge which looks like the large stylized symbol hanging around his neck. “Bring this with you and you will be allowed in freely.”

Six studies the symbol for a few seconds. _I wonder if this is supposed to be the Lord of Blades. But this is not the time to be asking._ He pockets it and says “Thank you.”


* This may be the first place in the campaign where a swashbuckling card providing a +10 to Diplomacy got used with great effect.


----------



## shilsen

A few minutes later, the Angels are soaring back towards the expeditionary party. Just over a mile from the boundary of the Glass Plateau, they find six of the warforged from the expedition traveling in the opposite direction. Bringing their mounts down to them, the adventurers discover that Lamaan sent the warforged ahead to scout. Six explains to them that the Plateau is a very dangerous place and they need to not go any further until he and his companions have had a chance to investigate the site further. The warforged reluctantly agree to head back to the expedition.

The Angels fly ahead of them and, within a couple of minutes, are back with the rest of the expeditionary party. There, Six repeats to Lamaan what he has just said to the warforged. Lamaan seems fairly unconvinced, especially since Six is reluctant to go into details. Six does explain, however, that from what they have seen there is great danger there and says that he has confirmed that the Lord of Blades is dead. _At least I’m pretty sure he is._ “After we return from our excursion, we will do a more thorough investigation of the site and tell you what we find, and you can then travel there with us. As you said, you are already ahead of schedule – right? So you are not losing any time and we’d appreciate it if you gave us a day or two.” 

Lamaan nods slowly. “Yes, time is not a problem for us right now. I appreciate all your aid, and I’m sure that your presence will be helpful.” He smiles. “Although not having you around apparently does cut down on the appearance of dangerous monstrosities.”

Korm sighs. “Yeah, we got that. But thanks. See you soon.”

The Angels depart and head back towards the former camp of the Lord of Blades again. This time they do not fly directly over it but make a wide circle so as to avoid being spotted again and alarming Prophet and his followers. Having done so, they follow the direction from which Nameless is still sensing the dimensional seal.

About four miles past the warforged camp, Nameless shouts, “Stop!” The others quickly bring their mounts to a halt, as the alienist points at the area ahead of them. “There’s a strong abjuration aura here, as might be put out by a dimensional seal.”

“Good,” says Luna. “I’d hate to think you brought us all this way for nothing!”

“I’m pleased that your time was well-spent,” Nameless says dryly. “But it’s not all good news. Dimensional seals put out a _dimensional lock_ effect over the area around them, which means no summoning creatures in this area.”

“That cuts down our options,” says Six thoughtfully, “But there’s no real choice in the matter. Let’s go on.”

A little over a mile away from the spot where Nameless detects the edge of the _dimensional lock_ is an area where the Glass Plateau is twice as high as in most of the other areas. The glass-like structures that make up the Plateau slope upwards and then split into jagged cliffs, which stick out towards the Dead-Gray Mist like crystalline daggers. When the Angels reach them, they see that beyond the cliffs the Plateau falls away, descending to create a huge, much flatter space, with the cliffs circling all around it to form a giant bowl. It extends well over a mile and there is something large, dark and roughly hemispherical in the center. It must stretch well over six hundred feet in width, with a height of almost a hundred. The ground immediately around it seems much darker than the surrounding area, and after a few seconds, the Angels realize that there is a huge hole in the Dead-Gray Mist immediately above it, even wider around as the hemisphere is. At their angle, they cannot see whether the hole extends all the way through the Mist.  

“Is _that_ the Seed?” asks Gareth.

“I think so,” Nameless replies. “And unfortunately, it looks like my cunning plan to have Korm eat it won’t work.”

The Gatekeeper shakes his head. “I’m fine with eating some aberrations, but yes, that’s a bit much.”

“Pity,” says the alienist. “I would have paid to see Gurr’khan’s face when we told him you ate it. Oh well. Let’s see if we can find out more about it. Especially how we can destroy it.”

“Sounds good,” says Luna. “Let’s go down there and blow the hell out of it!”

“Hold on,” says Six. “Nameless – do you have any spells that can tell you more about it? Especially from here?”

“Yes.” Nameless produces a couple of glass marbles and begins to cast a spell. A minute later, he completes it, and fifteen translucent floating eyeballs appear around him. He commands them to approach the Seed and study it and the surrounding area minutely before returning to him. “This’ll take a while,” he tells the others, as the eyes float away. “Let’s get comfortable and watch the place too.”

The Angels settle down to do so. As they watch the Seed, they can see that the shape and silhouette sometimes seem to vary, as if things were protruding from the surface, but the distance and poor visibility makes details impossible to make out. Even when Six produces a spyglass and uses it, all he can make out is that dark flashes leap out from the surface of the Seed sometimes.

After half an hour, the _prying eye_s return, though there are a significantly lower number now. They nestle one by one into Nameless’ palm, replaying what they saw directly into his mind, and then disappear. What the alienist sees through them is a giant mass, such a deep purple in hue that it appears to be black. The surface, which has a fleshy quality, glistens wetly and writhes as if it were alive. A dark fluid drips from it, turning the ground around it into a muddy morass. Though the surface seems to have no openings or entrances, unknown fumes are suddenly vented from random parts of the surface. Plumes of what looks like black fire also leap up randomly from the surface. Some of these effects are clearly damaging, since some of the eyes see others disappear as a spray of liquid or a cloud of smoke envelops them.

The eyes also confirm that there really is a huge hole in the Dead-Gray Mist above the Seed. It is in the form of a gigantic cylinder about eight hundred feet wide, and the mist that forms its walls seems to be circling constantly. Looking up the hole – which extends at least half a mile, from the looks of it – one can see all the way to the sky beyond the Dead-Gray Mist. Though there is still some light in the sky, it being early evening outside the Mournland, none of it seems to pass below the Mist. More surprising is the fact that a strange sign hangs in the sky above the hole, a strange squiggle of yellow lines which resembles a dragonmark, but not one Nameless has ever seen. It is impossible to make out the exactly how far off the ground the sign is, but the alienist estimates that it is incredibly huge. 

When the last of the eyes have disappeared, Nameless explains what they saw to the others. 

“A giant yellow dragonmark-like sign in the sky?” says Gareth. “Oh, that’s got to mean something really good!”

“I know,” nods Korm. “Couldn’t it just say ‘Xoriat is coming?’”

“And shouldn’t it be purple?” asks Luna. “Why yellow? It should be purple!”

“More importantly,” says Six, “What do we do now?”

After some discussion and, as usual, more argument, the Angels finally decide that they should rest for the night and recover their resources before proceeding to investigate the Seed. As usual, Luna ends up in the _rope trick_ with Valthera, while the others are in the _mansion_.

* * * * * * * * * *

To the minor surprise of the Guardian Angels, they awake and emerge from their extradimensional resting places with no problems and to find no enemies awaiting them. “Somehow,” says Korm, “I find this much less reassuring than a giant living spell waiting for us.” He looks at the Seed, sitting silently in the middle of the giant bowl within the Glass Plateau but somehow managing to give off an aura of brooding menace. “Well, no sense worrying. Let’s go get killed.”

“You know Korm,” Gareth grins, “I always love your optimism.” He raises the Endless Blade in a salute to the sky, invisible above the Dead-Gray Mist. “The Flame shall protect us.”

The Blade laughs crudely. “I don’t know about that, Gareth. I’ll probably be fine, but I’m pretty sure you’re all f*cked!”

“And, on that happy note,” laughs Korm, “Let’s go.”

Not wanting to waste time traveling to the edge of the _dimensional lock_ to summon any stags or steeds, and having prepared protective spells instead, the Angels proceed on foot. As they near the Seed, they can see more and more of its details and the area around it. And the giant hole in the Dead-Gray Mist above it, which looks exactly the same as before. The giant yellow sign is still visible, even though the sky is now bright with the light of morning, which again fails to penetrate beneath the edge of the Mist. Below, the morass created by the fluids leaking from the surface of the Seed is possibly even larger than before, stretching for nearly a hundred feet from its edge. 

As Nameless, flying above the others as usual, crosses the edge of the swampy area, a large crack appears in the epidermis of the Seed ahead of him. The edges of the crack thicken and darken, expanding and spreading until a large fleshy valve opens in the side of the Seed, partly resembling the ones the Angels had seen in Yarkuun Draal. It reveals a passageway, over twenty feet tall and wide, leading away into the form’s interior. The inside is pitch black, but those with darkvision can see that the walls, ceiling and floor seem to be made of tough, pallid looking flesh, with thick five-foot long hairs that appear to move and wave of their own volition. A faint groaning sound emanates from somewhere deep inside. Palpable even at this distance, an intense stench emanates from the valve, followed a second later by a spray of purple fluid. The spray continues for a couple of couple of seconds, further muddying the area outside, and then finally diminishes and ends in a thin waterfall which covers the entrance. Then, as the Angels watch, the valve closes. 

“Does anyone else think we’re being invited in?” growls Luna. Even as she speaks, she sees the valve close with an attendant grinding sound. “Okay – maybe not.” But then, a couple of seconds later, it slides open again. 

Waiting for a few seconds reveals that the valve opens and closes every few seconds. After studying it closely, Six says, “Nameless – it seemed to open when you got close enough. Try backing up a bit.” Sure enough, it emerges that the valve opens once Nameless gets within a hundred feet. Checking various spots around the Seed reveals that there are two more valves in its surface, each of which looks and apparently functions the same way.

“I’d like to do a little checking before we enter,” says Nameless. “Let me send in the _prying eyes_.”

“What about that spray?” asks Gareth, pointing at the waterfall that covers the entrance. “It looks acidic.”

“Luna, can you put up a _resist energy_ and block off the liquid to led me get the _eyes_ through?”

“Riiight!” grumbles the giant bear. “Somehow I don’t hear fat jokes whenever someone has to do things like this.” She casts a spell and then shambles up to the waterfall, before experimentally sticking a paw into it. The liquid sizzles off the surface of the skin and hair, but inflicts no damage. “Yeah, it’s acid all right. And pretty strong.”

Nameless casts the _prying eyes_ and prepares to send them through the entrance. In preparation, Luna steps under the waterfall of acid. As part of her body extends past the falling stream and into the tunnel beyond, she gasps at the unexpected cold and the attendant feeling akin to pushing her arm into very thick mud, with the air itself seeming to resist her. Then Luna recalls where she has had a similar sensation. “Hey, guys! The inside of this place is like in that manifest zone in our basement.”

“Not surprising,” says Nameless. “That just means the _eyes_ will take a little extra time to return. All right, Luna – cover them.” The _eyes_ float forward towards the opening and even with Luna trying to shield them, the acidic liquid spraying off her huge form strikes a number of them, causing the semi-tangible globes to pop and explode. Nevertheless, nearly a dozen of them manage to make it through. The Angels can see that their movements slow drastically as soon as they enter the fleshy tunnel, perhaps to one-tenth of their normal speed, due to the distortion of time. But they continue slowly through the tunnel and turn the corner at the end.

Having inserted her head a little into the tunnel to watch them, Luna is caught off guard when the edges of the valve slide together again, and with part of her functioning at a different rate of time than the rest, is unable to pull all the way back. The valve grinds shut around her skull with a force that would buckle iron, and even though Luna’s magically enhanced flesh resists it, her skin bruises and purples. 

“Gah!” Luna growls her anger and pulls back, placing both huge paws on the now closed valve to gain leverage. But as she touches the outside of the Seed, an impossible combination of heat and cold shoots into her, overlaid with an unholy energy which saps her energy. 

With a surprised and anguished cry, Luna throws herself backwards, ripping off skin and hair in her hurry to get free. The giant bear tumbles to the ground in an undignified heap, further befouling herself in the muck outside, and then awkwardly rolls upright. “Son of a bitch! That hurt!”

After Luna explains what happened, Gareth says, “It’s a good thing the Keeper gave us all of those scrolls, isn’t it?” he produces one and uses a _restoration_ on Luna. Then, the valve having opened in the meantime, Luna cautiously sits near it waiting for the _eyes_ to return, grumbling about all the things she has to do for those who can’t do it themselves.

It takes nearly half an hour for the magical orbs to reappear, and with Luna again covering for them, half a dozen survive to return to Nameless’ hands. He explains what he sees as they replay the images for him. “Looks like it’s pitch black in there, since they can only see with the light coming from the entrance. Around the corner the tunnel goes a little distance and then splits up into two. It looks like they both end in more of those valve things. There’s something … actually, make that many things … on the sides of the flesh where they split up. Yes, it really does look like flesh in there. Hmm – looks like large, well, tumors growing out of the walls. Three of them and – oh, this is good – each has what looks like the upper halves of mind flayers growing out of it. And … that’s about it since they can’t get past the valves.”

“This thing is _growing_ mind flayers?” says Korm. “With the things we do, I’m surprised nobody has suggested we move in here yet. And no, Luna – we’re not taking it home either!” 

Before Luna can reply, Nameless says, “Let’s discuss this inside, shall we? We’ve got a job to do.” 

As the Angels move forward, there is a soft meowing sound. The cat, Valthera, which has happily followed them throughout the Mournland, is standing in one place. Despite Luna’s persuasions, the cat absolutely refuses to enter, and when the druid attempts to pick her up and carry her in, she backflips out of her grasp and runs a little distance off, before stopping and hissing her dissent, with every hair standing on end. Finally, Luna reluctantly agrees to leave it behind.

_I’m not sure whether that makes me more relieved or worried_, Korm thinks, looking back at the cat, which is now sitting and watching them inscrutably as they enter the Seed.


----------



## ajanders

I see you read The War against the Chtorr too, huh?


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> I see you read The War against the Chtorr too, huh?



 Actually, I'd never even heard of it till you mentioned it. But now that I checked it out on Wikipedia, the description of it does provide some very interesting ideas. Thanks.

P.S. I hope you realize that now that you're in the same group as Rackhir and Atlatl Jones, you are liable to suffer grievous bodily harm for posts such as the above.


----------



## ajanders

Have you ever considered Call of Cthulhu? 
It seems like such a natural fit for you...


----------



## Furby076

ajanders said:
			
		

> Have you ever considered Call of Cthulhu?
> It seems like such a natural fit for you...




Did you ever think of giving a terrorist a case of C4 and some detonators?


----------



## Rackhir

ajanders said:
			
		

> Have you ever considered Call of Cthulhu?
> It seems like such a natural fit for you...




He did once.

2 Players were found dead the next day and 3 more had gone insane.

He's had trouble persuading people to show up for another session since then for some reason.


----------



## Vorput

Rackhir said:
			
		

> He did once.
> 
> 2 Players were found dead the next day and 3 more had gone insane.
> 
> He's had trouble persuading people to show up for another session since then for some reason.




lol


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:
			
		

> There is, however, no stopping Luna when the Angels suddenly find a rock in the middle of the forest. Sitting on top of it is a lovely pearl necklace. The bear skids violently to a stop, sending her three riders tumbling. Six adroitly lands on his feet, but Gareth and Korm land face-first. “Dammit, Luna!” shouts the Gatekeeper, sitting up and spitting out dirt and grass. “Don’t do that!”
> 
> Luna ignores him, already having rushed over to the necklace. “It’s so pretty!” Changing back into her shifter form, she picks it up. Nameless quickly says, “Don’t do that!”
> 
> Luna stares at him. “Why not?”
> 
> “Because it’s a magical necklace sitting on a rock in the Mournland!”
> 
> “Magical? It’s magical too? Cool!”
> 
> Nameless sighs and rubs a tentacle over his brow. _I shouldn’t have mentioned that._ Knowing that saying anything further will do nothing to stop her, he watches the necklace carefully as she places it around her neck. Multiple moderately powerful magical auras are visible to his _arcane sight_, and then as Luna dons it, he sees the auras flow outwards to wash invisibly over her form, before returning to the necklace. _Yeah – that’s just great!_ “Whatever I say, you’re going to keep it, right?”




Thinking things over, I've noticed that Shil likes "objects with a soul/that possess people". We had Gareth's sword Kismet which had a Demon in it. There were the magic items the Quori used to possess the group. The Key was linked to our character's souls. There's the Endless Blade, which has the spirit of a paladin or something like that. There was the Seed planted in Nameless. There's another that you've seen already, but which the significance of will be made clear quite soon.

So the question I have about the necklace is "What's possessing it? And when is it going to bite Luna (Or more likely the rest of us) in the ..."


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:
			
		

> Have you ever considered Call of Cthulhu?
> It seems like such a natural fit for you...




Yeah, but in CoC the players expect it. In D&D you can sneak up on them while they're expecting dungeons and dragons and hit them with a surprise tentacle.

Plus I think AviLazar and Rackhir covered it above.



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> Did you ever think of giving a terrorist a case of C4 and some detonators?




What?! Just because I'm the approximate shade as Osama I'm suddenly a terrorist? That's racial DM profiling!

That does it. Next session rocks fall and the infidels die!



			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> Thinking things over, I've noticed that Shil likes "objects with a soul/that possess people". We had Gareth's sword Kismet which had a Demon in it. There were the magic items the Quori used to possess the group. The Key was linked to our character's souls. There's the Endless Blade, which has the spirit of a paladin or something like that. There was the Seed planted in Nameless. There's another that you've seen already, but which the significance of will be made clear quite soon.
> 
> So the question I have about the necklace is "What's possessing it? And when is it going to bite Luna (Or more likely the rest of us) in the ..."




Bah! You're just paranoid. It could just be a nice, normal magical pearl necklace that someone dropped in the middle of an illusionary animated forest in the Mournland.


----------



## carborundum

shilsen said:
			
		

> Bah! You're just paranoid. It could just be a nice, normal magical pearl necklace that someone dropped in the middle of an illusionary animated forest in the Mournland.



Works for me!



<naive> What?</naive>


----------



## shilsen

As the Angels make their way under the acidic waterfall and through the entrance to the Seed, each of them encounters the same thing Luna has already felt – the intense cold and the resistance as they enter a place where time works differently. But that’s not the only change. When Nameless steps across the boundary, the cloak of mist that has covered him ever since he entered the Mournland is stripped off him as if by a strong wind and swiftly dissipates.

“Well, that’s interesting!” says Gareth, looking at him while shaking off the droplets of acid that cover him, even though the protective spells the Angels are warded with make him immune to their effect. 

“Yes,” says Nameless, blinking slightly as he now sees without a foggy filter to his vision for the first time in days. “That’s a relief. By the way, there’s no _dimensional lock_ in here.”

“Really? So we can _summon_ things in here?” asks Luna.

“Yes. And does anyone else feel things are different in here?”

“Yup,” grins Korm. “I’m standing inside a giant fleshy seed inside a suspiciously circular tunnel with a weird opening at the end and hoping like hell that this isn’t supposed to resemble a part of the orcish body. So I feel a little different here.” Despite the humorous comment and tone, the Gatekeeper’s eyes are wary and his sword remains ready in his hand.

“Don’t say that,” says Six. “I already think this whole pooping business is why you people are messed up. I don’t need to find out more about it, especially not from the inside.”

“What are you doing?” Gareth asks, as Nameless pulls out a dagger. 

“Testing something,” replies the alienist. Holding the dagger in his tentacle, he makes a tiny cut in the top of his index finger. As blood flows, he says, “Heal this, Gareth. Use a _cure minor_.”

“Okay,” says Gareth uncertainly, but he complies. To his surprise, the spell takes effect, closing the little wound. 

“Excellent!” smiles Nameless. “I thought that was the case. The effects of the Mournland are in abeyance here. Which means you can use your healing magic and my … our … spells do not have the unreliability which they previously had. That makes us much more effective.” _And I expect we’re going to need it._

“Very good,” says Six pragmatically, “Now let’s go on, shall we?” 

With weapons and spells at the ready, the Angels proceed into the Seed. Their movement is slow, as the coarse hairs growing out of the fleshy walls writhe and coil around their legs. The living tunnel shudders faintly under their feet, beads of acidic sweat oozing from the porous walls and dripping on them. A thick stench of rot and decay fills the passage they are in, and some areas have pockets of noxious fumes which make all except the non-breathing warforged cough and pause to wipe dripping eyes.

The entire place is dark, and supernaturally so, since the _continual flame_ torches stuck in some of their belts produce only a fitful glow that extends a few feet ahead. Luckily darkvision, whether natural or bestowed by spells, seems to work normally. Another of the few positives is that the passage is a huge one, near twenty feet tall and wide, allowing space for even Luna to make her way through it. 

Not that it makes the druid any the happier. “Is this what Xoriat feels like, Nameless? No wonder you’re all screwed up!” Then, as a deep and rumbling chuckle floats down the tunnel, interspersed with a series of groans and a distant shriek, Luna adds, “And what the hell is that?”

“I have no idea,” says Nameless. “But this is nothing like Xoriat, believe me. Be glad of that. And there’s more good news, in a manner of speaking. I can sense the Seal. It’s down that way.”  

The Angels continue along the passageway as it curls its way into the Seed, until it splits into two. At that point, as Nameless’ _prying eye_s had revealed, three large tumor-like growths extend from the wall of the passage. Sticking out of each is the half-grown form of an illithid, complete from the lower forehead to the forearms to the upper thighs. They are evidently at least partially sentient, since their dark eyes roll towards the Angels and their tentacles strain weakly towards them. But there is no accompanying _mind blast_ or any other attack.

“Looks like they’re helpless,” says Korm.

“Good,” replies Six. “That’s my favorite kind of mind flayer. Now let’s get rid of them.”

“That’s not much fun,” grumbles Korm, but he proceeds to do so with Six, and a few seconds later the remnants of the mind flayers hang limply from the tumors they were growing from.

Picking one of the two passageways randomly, since neither of them leads any more directly than the other towards the Seal that Nameless senses, the Angels continue onwards. As they near the valve at the end, it splits to reveal the chamber beyond, from which another passage leads away. Large patches of fresh blood decorate the floor of this area, and scattered around it are the ripped and torn bodies of what seem to be four dolgaunts. 

Examining them, Six says, “Interesting. I’d swear it was a spiked chain – or chains – that they were killed with, but much bigger than mine. It looks like…”

He is interrupted by the sound of guttural screams and the sound of small explosions from up ahead. At the same time, a lurid and flickering light is visible around the turn in the passageway leaving the chamber, as if the area beyond were on fire. “Let me go ahead,” says Six quickly, “So I can see what’s going on. Stay a little distance behind me.”

As the warforged advances, the shadowy armor from his harness flows around him. He concentrates, mentally commanding it to camouflage him so that he blends with the walls and ceilings here, and it does take on a similar shade, but he somehow still remains very distinctly visible. Disappointed, he proceeds quickly but carefully. 

Even though only a couple of seconds have passed, the sound of the shouts ahead have resolved themselves into two distinct, if similar, voices, both of them screaming in daelkyr. More precisely, screaming the same words over and over. 

“What are they saying, Nameless?” asks Luna.

“Die, die, die…!” replies the alienist.

Around the corner, Six peers carefully into a large chamber which opens off the passageway. The tunnel itself continues onwards, but the warforged cannot see much further down it, since a _wall of fire_ completely blocks it off. Not that Six spares the wall of flame a second glance. His attention is purely focused on the two combatants in the chamber. 

Two beholders fly in circles around the area, screaming madly at each other, eyes firing rays constantly. Both of them are critically wounded, gore dripping from a dozen wounds, and even as Six stares at the insane battle, it is over. One of the beholders screams in not just anger but pain as another pair of rays hits, one ripping off a large section of flesh and another burning a hole right through its ovoid body. It shudders and falls, dead before it hits, reflexively firing more rays. One of them hits home and the other beholder falls silent in mid-scream. A gray pallor shoots around its body from the spot the ray hit, and seconds later, a stone statue hits the ground besides the corpse of its erstwhile foe.

Looking around to ensure that there are no hidden enemies, Six cautiously begins to step into the room. Then, the _wall of fire_ flickers out of existence. Revealed beyond it is a humanoid figure, as tall as an ogre, but with the proportional slimness of an elf. No features are visible due to the segmented form-fitting metal armor that covers it from head to toe. A large spiked chain is in its hands, and a series of other weapons are visible, the latter orbiting it in a deadly metal cloud. 

As soon as Six sees it, he feels an unexpected sensation of incredible bloodlust wash over him. For a second, all the warforged wants to do is rip, slay and tear apart anything he sees before him, and he takes a step towards the creature. But somewhere, deep within his mind, Six’s natural caution is fighting against the compulsion, and his will reasserts itself. 

Without a word, Six spins on his heel and flees. There is a whirr behind him and he feels the pain of the creature’s spiked chain as it lays open his back, but he simply uses the impact to increase his momentum. “Guys!” Six shouts as he runs, “We have company!”

Already having begun to move when the commotion ahead ended, his allies begin to rush forward in response. As Six hurtles around the corner and his larger enemy follows, each of them feels the surge of violent rage that he just felt, each one momentarily wanting to attack their nearest comrade. But like Six, each of them manages to throw off the enchantment before it can really take hold.*

The second of hesitation, however, is all the enemy needs. It takes a spiked gauntlet off the chain and gestures, and a long wall of whirling metal blades appears in the middle of the Angels. The hand sweeps back, and another _wall of fire_ appears, parallel to the _blade barrier_. The Angels fling themselves aside as best they can, but all of them emerge badly slashed or scorched, some especially so. Luna, with her giant bulk, is especially badly off, with the two magical walls literally bisecting her, and her screams of pain fill the chamber.

“Get it!” shouts Nameless, “If it can do it once it can do so again!” He quickly casts, dropping an empowered _fireball_ down the corridor behind the creature, and then sends a volley of _magic missile_s after them. The _missile_s wink out as they impact it, but the _fireball_ leaves scorch marks on the surface on its armor. The expected _flame strike_ from Luna which follows a second later has no effect, leaving her near incandescent with anger combined with the pain.

“Damn!” says a bleeding Korm, looking at the only open area before the attacking creature, between the two magical barriers, and the cloud of flying weapons whirling around it, and the long chain it holds at the ready. “This is going to hurt! Come on, Gareth, Six – time to take one for the team!” The Gatekeeper grits his teeth and rushes in, followed a second later by Gareth and Six.

The ensuing battle is short, bloody and very, very painful. The creature’s spiked chain rips into the attackers as they move in, and every time they attack the weapons that orbit it tear into their arms. And it again conjures up a _blade barrier_ and a _wall of fire_ to join the ones that were already present, so that the three attackers are actually sometimes standing within them as they hack feverishly into their enemy. Flesh (and in Six’s case, metal, stone and wood), even that blessed by the Silver Flame or enchanted by Mordain, can only take so much, and by the time the creature drops, Korm, Gareth and Six are all seriously wounded. Even Nameless and Luna, lobbing spells from the rear, are hurt, especially the shifter, whose bear form has made her even more susceptible to damage in these conditions.

Luckily, as the creature falls, the effects it created fade away. The weapons that floated around it disappear too, as does the spiked chain it wielded and the armor it wore. All that is left is a light gray-skinned creature, with no facial features except for two large black eyes, and a body which has no evident gender.*** 

Korm kneels painfully beside the body, blood still streaming down his arms, legs and chest, and asks, “Anybody know what the hell this is?”

“No,” says Nameless, “Presumably something created by this place.”

“Whatever it was,” says Six, while using a wand to repair the damage to his superstructure, “It affected aberrations too. It got two beholders to kill each other in the chamber back there.”

“Beholders? Let’s go see.”

“Umm,” says Gareth from where he is slumped against a wall, leaning on the Endless Blade. “Can somebody heal me?” 

“Fine, fine,” says Luna, but Nameless puts in, “Save the _heal_s. We may need them. Use our wands.”

The Angels move on into the other chamber while doing so. After examining the beholders, Nameless says, “You know, this petrified one is in fairly good shape. We should add it to our collection. A little judicious use of _stone shape_ and we could make a fountain out of it.”

“Yay!” shouts Luna excitedly, clapping her paws together, “I love it when we can kill things and turn them into furnishings!”

“You guys are all freaking nuts!” says Korm, busily slicing strips off the other dead beholder. 

“I could point something out about what you’re doing right now,” replies Gareth, “But I won’t.”

“What? An orc’s got to eat!”

While they are carefully putting the stone beholder in the _portable hole_, Six – who has gone to check on what lies ahead – returns to say, “Dead end up ahead. It’s another chamber, actually. Unoccupied, but it has some things I think Nameless should check, in case they mean something.”

A bright light emanates from the chamber as the adventurers advance towards it. Entering, they see that the walls are dotted with hundreds of small purple crystals, each glowing akin to a _continual flame_, combining to create a brilliant gleam.

“Intriguing,” says Nameless. “They have multiple faint magical auras, but I don’t know what they do.”

“They’re beautiful!” Luna reaches up to a wall and pulls at a gem, which easily comes off. “And they’re removable! Okay, start collecting them.”

“Luna!” Nameless protests, “We don’t really have time for this.”

“Listen, you,” growls the druid, “We’ve got hundreds of pretty magical glowing stones. I am _not_ leaving them here! If you want me out of here fast, you’ll help me.”

“Fine, fine,” says Korm, beginning to pull gems off the walls too, “Let’s just get this over with.”

Some time later, the Angels are back at the valve they had not passed through. When it opens, they see another chamber beyond with more of the tumor-like growths on the walls. These ones have large gaping holes in them and pools of slime at the bottom.

“Looks like whatever was growing here finished the job,” says Gareth.

“Well, how about you guys waiting again while I check ahead?” suggests Six. “Once I find what’s ahead and it tries to kill me, I’ll yell.”

“Sounds like a plan,” says Korm. “Just no more guys who throw around _blade barrier_s please!”

“Deal,” says Six, before quietly moving down the passage which exits this chamber and around the corner. As with the previous passageway, another chamber opens off it a short distance around the corner. There is the sound of movement within, accompanied by a soft sloshing sound, as if someone – or something – were stepping in liquid. Six cautiously looks around the corner of the entrance into the room beyond.

The large chamber beyond is kidney-shaped and has small pools of what look like acid on the floor. Unlike the other passages and chambers within the Seed, this one is lit by a large disk of gently pulsing puce light on the far wall. The disk actually appears to be a translucent opening to the next room, and Six can vaguely see movement within. Bu details are impossible to make out and his attention is focused rather on the two inhabitants of this chamber.

The two six-foot tall creatures each have three long, multi-jointed legs ending in hooked claws. The bodies are long green ovoids which hang down beneath the tripod formed by the legs, and their lower extremities end in a single large red eye. More, smaller eyes are scattered haphazardly around the bodies. 

The aberrations are walking around the chamber, clearly unaffected by acid as their feet land equally on the floor or in the acid pools, but both halt instantly, eyes swiveling in Six’s direction. Before the warforged can move, the multiple legs flex and hurl them forward towards him, strange chittering sounds emanating from unseen mouths. 

With subterfuge useless, Six yells, “I’m under attack!” and attempts to backpedal, but one of the enemies reaches him. It kicks out instantly, driving a clawed leg into a joint between his metal chest and the fibrous growths beneath. As it hits, the claws clamp shut, digging deep into the warforged’s side. Expecting the creature to try and pull him towards it, Six prepares to resist, but instead the enemy actually steps towards him. Then there is a cracking sound as the leg actually rips itself free of the creature’s body. The end of the leg has a harpoon-like barb, and it drives itself towards the ground as if both alive and intelligent.

Instinctively realizing that if it hits he will be stuck to the spot, Six desperately flings himself backwards, causing the barb to miss. It then hangs limply from his side, as if whatever volition it had was expended in the initial effort. Glancing at the creature that hit him while he backs away, Six sees another similar leg emerge from the hole where the previous one had been. The second creature is moving in too and the warforged strikes it with his chain as it advances, but the barbs skitter off its surface leaving only a faint scratch.

Luckily for Six, this is when the rest of the Angels arrive, giving the two strange creatures much more to concern themselves with. But there are also unexpected concerns for some of the Angels. Just as Luna shambles around the corner and spots the creatures, she feels a movement in her stomach and a sensation that she is absolutely certain is the baby – which Mordain had mentioned and which she has found no signs of carrying – kicking. Followed instantly by a nauseating surge of what can only be morning sickness. Beside her, Korm halts also, a queasy expression on his face, and clutches at his stomach. “Your baby kicked also?” asks Luna, feeling amusement even at this moment. Korm looks back at her with an expression where nausea is submerged under horror and panic and growls, “No! Not at all!” _Oh gods! I felt it!_

Turning, Korm rushes in at the creatures along with Gareth, and is unpleasantly surprised for the second time in mere seconds. Their enemies’ legs are strangely extensible, shooting out to pierce the two attackers’ flesh before they can come within reach. Lacking Six’s lightning reflexes, both Gatekeeper and paladin find themselves momentarily stuck in place, as the barbed legs anchor them to the ground. Luckily, Luna and Nameless quickly conjure up a number of elementals to bracket the walking tripods, preventing them from following up their attacks.

With an angry effort, Korm rips himself free, tearing out the end which is buried in his side. “Damn!” says Gareth, trying to work himself free more gently and failing, “Does that hurt?”

Korm looks at him as if he is mentally deficient and points at the bleeding gash in his side. “What do you think?” Without waiting for an answer, he rushes into battle, using the rocky bulk of an earth elemental to cover his approach until he can reach the enemy. There, like Six – who is now darting in and out at his side too quickly to be attacked – Korm discovers that the creatures’ flesh is heavily resistant to his weapon, despite his meteoric blade’s anathematic relationship with aberrations. “Gareth – get in here!” he shouts. 

With a sigh, Gareth also rips himself free and runs in. As Korm had expected, the combination of the paladin’s gifts from the Silver Flame and the Endless Blade allows him to slice easily through the tripods’ resistance to damage. Of course, this makes him the primary target for them, even in comparison to a gigantic fire elemental that towers over twice his height. A blur of clawed legs envelop him, and seconds later Gareth is not just bleeding heavily from multiple wounds but has literally been crucified, three barbed legs holding him pinned in place. 

Luckily, Gareth’s unintended sacrifice keeps the creatures occupied, allowing Six, Korm and the summoned elementals to hammer them with impunity. A few seconds later, both of the tripods are down and dying, their bodies slowly dissolving into pools of acid. 

The Angels begin healing themselves and cautiously nearing the translucent opening. “Is the Seal in that direction, Nameless?” asks Six. “Yes,” says the alienist. He takes a step closer and the light shimmers and disappears.  

The roughly square chamber beyond is a huge one, stretching nearly a hundred feet across and with a domed ceiling that rises about forty feet. Unlike the other chambers in the place, this one is lit with a puce radiance, just like the doorway leading to it was. The central fifty feet of the chamber’s floor is a huge dimensional seal, but it is almost completely covered in the thick, ropelike strands of hair which have covered the surface of the Seed’s passageways, which have grown over it. Floating just above this seal is an amorphous, roiling cloud of darkness about ten feet in diameter, which radiates strong illusion and evocation magic to Nameless’ gaze. Protruding from the side of it is an inhumanly perfect human male face, the only part of the cloud that doesn’t change constantly. 


* A DC 28 Will save and the bums all made it! Admittedly Korm needed a swashbuckling card that gave him an auto-success and Six had to use his Moment of Perfect Mind maneuver, but even so that’s horrible. 

** Getting hit by an empowered Blade Barrier and a Wall of Fire at the same time hurts, but having to stand inside them to fight _really_ sucks!

*** Mechanically it was a Ragewalker from MM3.


----------



## shilsen

The face stares at the Angels expressionlessly for a moment and then smiles. Though the result is a dazzling smile, the process is gradual and jerky, different parts of the face moving abruptly and individually, as if the owner knew what a smile was but not quite how it occurs. Then, beaming at the adventurers, the face says, “Greetings. Enter!” To Nameless, the voice sounds exactly like the one he sometimes hears in his head, and there is a brief wordless chittering behind his eyes in response. The others do not experience that, but they all hear the voice in their heads a full second before their ears hear the words.

The Angels exchange one brief communal look and then promptly begin to cast protective spells as fast as they can. The watching face waits for a couple of seconds and then says, “That is not really necessary.” Nameless mutters, “I’ll take my chances, thank you!” 

“Is that actually a daelkyr?” Luna growls. Nameless shakes his head, “It’s a daelkyr, but I don’t think it’s actually physically here, or at least not completely.” Though presumably able to hear them, Antaratma makes no reply.

Only after casting an incredible array of spells do the Angels warily enter the chamber, spreading out quickly so that they cannot be easily targeted. But the daelkyr makes no offensive moves. It simply continues to smile and looks over them, before saying, “You are very punctual. Your years and days matter little to me, so I sometimes have difficulty predicting when things shall occur. I was wondering if you would arrive in time.” As it speaks, there is a rumbling sound and the floor beneath them shakes. It continues, “Tell me – what do you expect to do here?”

“To destroy you,” says Gareth flatly. Nameless smiles thinly and says, “Or fill out our survey, if you don’t mind.”

The entity’s smile remains the same, but the roiling cloud churns for a moment before the face replies, “Amusing. I would be beyond your power if I was truly here, but I am not. Yet you are. And now you shall be rewarded.” The Angels ready for an attack, but apparently that was not a threat. It continues, “Without your efforts the seed would not have been planted, and the thirteenth seal would not be now ready to open. And now you have done more. You have purified your essence at the altar of R’lyeh and brought it here, to make the ritual of opening perfect. If it were only for that, I might not reward you, since I only need to claim your essence, whether you will or no. But look at you!”

The tone warms as it speaks, and there is genuine – or very well feigned – appreciation. “You are all works of art. Stronger, finer, more beautiful than you once were. To destroy you would be such a … waste. And I can make you better. Give me of your essence willingly and I shall let you live.”

“Sorry,” says Nameless, “But my ‘essence’ is spoken for. Go talk to Cyäegha.” The others quickly add their refusal.

Antaratma continues to speak, its expression unchanging. “You do not understand my generosity. You have no choice and nowhere to go. Nobody can enter this place any more and none can leave. See!” For a second there is a sharp pain in each of the listeners’ heads and then the scene they are seeing disappears. Instead, they have a vision of the outside of the Seed. Now all of it is visible, revealing that it is a rough sphere, as it floats through the air above the Mournland. The Seed is rising gradually, heading towards the huge sign in the sky, and so are the Angels within it.

“See?” repeats Antaratma as the vision fades. 

“That changes nothing,” growls Korm. 

This time, the smile disappears. “You are certain?” 

“Yes!”

“So be it. Perhaps I shall recreate you later. But now, if you will not comply, you shall be destroyed.” With these words face recedes into the cloud, which simultaneously begins to darken and apparently solidify. It simultaneously floats higher till it is ten feet above the seal and multiple large, black tentacles begin to extend from it. The outer surface begins to resemble the surface of the seed, the cloud swiftly resembling a small version of it. Dark liquid wells up on and drips from the surface, making it seem like a giant bleeding cyst of darkness. 

Not that the Angels pause to study the change. Gareth, borne aloft on a pair of feathery, angelic wings, soars towards the cyst immediately, and Korm does likewise from the opposite side, leathery wings like a cloaker’s carrying him. As the Gatekeeper and the paladin near the creature, a wave of energy flows outwards from it, washing over them and continuing across the chamber. Reality seems to warp around the Angels, blurring their vision and affecting their control of their own movements. Korm and Gareth ignore it and strike at the same time, the Endless Blade and the meteoric sword both biting into the cyst’s carapace. The wielders quickly discover that it is incredibly hard and resistant to damage, ignoring even Gareth’s ability to pierce such resistance. The swords only put small cracks into the surface, the power of the Silver Flame allowing Gareth to do so a little more deeply. Worryingly, the wounds begin to close back up instantly.

Behind them, Six activates the wand which is concealed in a sheath within his metal forearm, to _haste_ his allies. Floating in the air above him, Nameless snaps, “Good! Luna – we need more allies!” The druid growls and proceeds to _summon_ a huge earth elemental, which hammers at the cyst. But it seems that the reality-warping aura of the cyst affect it too, since it seems barely able to hit, and when it does, the rocklike fists have even less of an effect than the Angels’ swords. 

Nameless too uses his most powerful _summon_s, but not to call elementals. The figures that appear seem to be tall, muscular humans, but they have long powerful wings instead of arms, and their legs ends in strong talons. The aquiline faces are topped by hair which resembles a feathery cowl, and their bright gold eyes are those of eagles. These eyes gaze at the scene before them and the celestial faces actually seem to pale for a moment as the cyst’s field of energy envelops them. “Heal him and him,” Nameless shouts, indicating Korm and Gareth, “When they’re hurt.” The avorals nod and spread their wings, hovering behind their charges.

The timing is perfect, since the cyst’s offenses are apparently as strong as its defenses. The long tentacles lash out, hammering into Gareth with incredible precision, even though his magical protections provide some defense. Wherever they hit, his flesh pales, hardens and splits like a leprous sore. Worryingly, the cyst spins and rolls as it attacks, bringing every tentacle to bear on the one target, clearly attempting to eliminate one enemy at a time. Though Gareth has suffered much more powerful blows in his time and can deal out more himself with a single sword-slash, the sheer volume of them is too much. He weaves drunkenly in mid-air and then feels two wings brush over his back, channeling a large amount of healing energy into him. A second later, another tentacle smashes into his chest, but the avoral’s healing leaves him in the fight, though badly hurt.

“Keep pounding it!” shouts Nameless, “Six – get in there!” The warforged says nothing, calling on another of his harness’ abilities, immediately growing and expanding till he is twice as tall and proportionately larger. 

“Pounding isn’t doing anything!” shouts back Korm, as Luna adds more _summon_ed elementals to join the one already present. Though they swarm around the cyst, all of them seem to have the same problem. “We can barely scratch this thing, and Gareth will be dead in seconds!” Gareth adds, “Yeah – someone heal me!” 

_Time for the big ones!_ thinks Nameless, and casts a spell. He feels a moment of resistance as the aura of the cyst encounters his own attempt to reshape reality through an act of will. But of all the mages on the surface of Eberron, he is the best versed and suited for dealing with this environment. After a moment, the alienist feels his _limited wish_ take effect, and the concomitant flow of his own life energy. Simultaneously, Korm’s sword flares in his hand, the light settling into a soft silvery gleam. “Now!” shouts Nameless.

Not arguing, Korm shouts his war-cry and slashes into the cyst. This time, as the sword hits, it carves deep, leaving a silvery trail which gleams bright against the dark surface. “Yes!” he bellows in triumph and attacks again and again. The warping aura still deflects some of his attacks, but some get through, each having the same effect. The cyst spins instantly to bring all its tentacles to bear on him, smashing Korm again and again. 

The other Angels and the elementals attempt to provide a distraction, while the avoral behind Korm heals as much as it can, but there is only so much that it can do, and the fusillade of attacks shows no signs of stopping. Gritting his teeth and ignoring the suppurating flesh that now covers his upper torso, Korm continues to hack into the creature before him, trying to inflict as much damage as he can before he goes down. One particularly powerful blow lays open the cyst’s surface in a diagonal slash and a thick spray of reddish fluid erupts from it.

For just a second Korm hopes that he has inflicted a fatal wound. But as the spray of fluid hits the floor, it fountains back upwards, growing at incredible speed and solidifying slightly. Barely a second later, a gigantic fire elemental arises where the liquid hit, both taller and broader than the elementals that Luna had summoned. It swings a giant fist into Korm’s surprised face, spinning him sideways in mid-air and scorching his flesh. 

The cyst seizes the opportunity and strikes, two of its tentacles smashing down on the back of Korm’s head. There is a cracking sound and the Gatekeeper hits the floor, his neck bent at an impossible angle. The sword, the only weapon in the room capable of easily breaching the cyst’s defenses, falls from his dying hand.

“Luna!” shouts Nameless, “You’ve got to heal him before it’s too late!” The giant bear is already rushing forward, but as she tries to pass around the giant elemental in the way, it hammers hard into her side. _I have to get that out of the way!_ Nameless shouts again, but this time to a hearer who is not visible. “Kha’tvan’ga! Fulfill our pact and attend me!”

Space bends and cracks behind the elemental as the Horror appears. Though dwarfed by the elemental’s bulk, it attacks instantly. One, two, three tentacles hit home, and as Nameless holds his breath, the fourth connects. They grasp the elemental firmly, and then space collapses around Kha’tvan’ga and it as they both pass into another dimension. 

Luna immediately touches Korm, channeling a _heal_ into him. His wounds close and bruises disappear, even the warped and oozing flesh on his chest and arms disappearing, but Korm still lies there, his head still bent at an angle from his body. After one quick glance, Luna calls, “It’s his neck! He’d be dead if not for Mordain’s work, and he won’t get back up until that kicks in.”*

_We don’t have that kind of time._ “Six, Gareth – you have to buy me a few seconds!” Nameless shouts, digging in his pouch.

“What the hell do you think we’ve been doing?” shouts back Gareth, continuing to slash into the cyst, using the powers of the Silver Flame to do as much damage as he can. With Six attacking from a very safe distance with his enlarged chain and the elementals near ineffectual, the paladin is the only target for the cyst, and it switches its attention to him, battering him brutally.

Pulling out the scroll he was looking for, Nameless activates it, using a _limited wish_ for the second time in less than twenty seconds. With an audible snap, Korm’s head straightens and then his eyes open. As he looks up blearily, Luna shoves his sword into his hand. “Get up and hit that thing!”

Almost at the same instant, Kha’tvan’ga reappears with the gigantic fire elemental. Despite its inhuman form, the elemental has a mind, one which is unequipped for a vision of Xoriat. Now completely insane, it beats at the Horror and then swings wildly at the others in the area. Luna growls again as another flaming fist scorches her hide and swats at it, but the huge creature barely notices. Six, leaping in and out to strike at the cyst, skids to a halt as the elemental’s bulk blocks access to his target, moving swiftly around it. 

“I’ll take care of it,” calls Nameless, knowing that they cannot afford any distraction. He casts again, this time using a spell he never has before due to the abortive cost. But for this fight, the alienist knows that pulling out all the stops is essential. As the valuable crushed ruby dust streaming from his hand disappears, the elemental’s fist smashes to a halt as an invisible barrier arrests it. The creature swings again and again, roaring in fury, but the magical walls of the _forcecage_ now surrounding it are impervious to the attacks.

In the few seconds that this has taken to occur, the cyst continues to inflict heavy damage on its attackers. Gareth is its primary target, but as the rejuvenated Gatekeeper flies up to again drive his sword into it, Korm immediately becomes its focus. Not that it ignores Gareth, however, with two more tentacles swinging at him. The paladin’s enchanted armor significantly diminishes the effect of one, but the impact still knocks him backwards in the air, and the second tentacle smashes him under his unprotected chin. Gareth’s eyes roll back and he drops like a stone, his armor clattering around him. 

The cyst spins instantly, a forest of tentacles waving over Korm. The Gatekeeper roars and calls on the berserker might of his ancestors, feeling additional strength and energy pour through him, but he doubts that he can withstand a full series of attacks. Blow after blow smashes down, warping flesh and bruising bones. And then there is a huge, hairy barrier in the way, as Luna forms a living shield, stoically taking the hits for him and trying to grab the cyst. The giant bear, substantially bigger than the cyst, wraps her arms around the creature, but after a second it simply spins and throws her off. 

“Luna! Heal Gareth!” shouts Nameless, wondering what else he can do at this moment. In the momentary pause, he realizes that he has been hearing something for the last couple of seconds but has not paid attention due to the distractions. The sounds are those of pounding feet and the sources appear a second later, running in through the entrance. 

To the Angels’ surprise, they are warforged, recognizable as four of those who accompanied the expedition which they had been traveling with. One is Saber, the leader of the contingent, and she quickly says, “Sorry – we tried to get here earlier.” Nameless notices that her voice sounds masculine now, but there is no time for discussion. Without waiting for a reply, all four of the warforged raise their arms and rays of energy shoot forth at the cyst. Two fizzle out instantly on contact, but the other two burn deep holes in its carapace.

For the first time in the battle, the cyst staggers at an impact. Luna has already thrown herself flat beneath it, and her huge tongue licks out across the intervening gap to channel her last _heal_ into Gareth. As the paladin opens his eyes, the Endless Blade yells, “Hit it, you idiot!” and pulls him upright and off the ground. Reacting on instinct, Gareth smites the cyst, silver flames flashing up along the blade as it bites deep into his target. Six’s chain flashes past his head to carve deeper into one of the many cuts marring its surface, and Kha’tvan’ga’s tentacles beat on its surface too.

Of them all, Korm continues to inflict the most damage due to Nameless’ spell, carving deep gouges out of the cyst. But his foe is not yet done, and it focuses on him as the enemy most capable of wounding it. The tentacles beat on him again and again, quickly knocking him back down towards unconsciousness and death. One blow knocks him back to the ground and down to a knee, and the cyst rolls forward in mid-air, bringing a last crushing tentacle down on his defenseless head as he struggles to his feet.

But just as the blow descends, Nameless shouts a word. The torc around his throat, taken from the lich Emrena’s lover, flashes into life. Though the tentacle apparently slams into Korm’s head, the Gatekeeper feels nothing, and it is Nameless’ scalp that splits instead as he takes the wound on himself instead.

Surprised and relieved, Korm leaps back to his feet, driving the sword upwards point-first like a spear with all the power of his rising body. It slides deep into the cyst’s body, till the hilt rings against the carapace. Stinking fluid sprays from the wound and the cyst shudders, tentacles flailing wildly around it. Cracks appear all over its surface, a purple radiance shining out of them, and there is a groaning sound which fills the chamber.

And then it explodes. A blast of energy flies around the chamber, knocking some of the Angels off their feet. A couple of the warforged are actually blown apart, hitting the ground in smoking heaps. Large cracks appear in the surface of the chamber that they are within and the groaning sound increases as the entire structure shakes violently.

As the Angels recover themselves and look around, the warforged Saber says, “You need to get out – now! Do not worry about us. Our job was to ensure that you were successful and survived. If our shells are destroyed, that is of no matter.” 

_Sh*t! Quori!_ “Forget it!” snaps Nameless, pulling out the _portable hole_ and opening it. “You might not care what happens to your shells, but we do. Get in!” 

The warforged don’t argue and quickly comply, and as soon as Luna has changed back to her normal form, Nameless _teleport_s the entire group away. 

To his relief, there is no mishap and they reappear outside the Mournland, near the expedition’s main camp. The area looks the same as before, except for the giant yellow sign in the sky. Luna looks up at it and then asks, “Did we win? That thing’s still there.”

“I’m fairly sure we destroyed the Seed,” replies Nameless.

“And if we didn’t,” growls Korm, in the process of healing himself, “I quit!”

“And where did those warforged come from?” asks Luna. Six nods, “I’d like to know too.”

“Let’s find out.” Once the _portable hole_ is opened, the two warforged climb out. Saber says, “Congratulations on your victory. We are pleased that you all survived.”

“You are quori?”

“Yes.” Saber looks at Six. “I believe we have you to thank for these harnesses being in use, without which we could not have come here. Thank you.” 

Nameless and Six exchange glances. _Sh*t!_**


* Though I allow use of cards to survive below -10, which Korm was, I don’t allow that PC to rejoin the fight when healed. In this case, since Nameless used a _limited wish_, I allowed Korm to get back up.

** The expressions on the players’ faces at this point were the sort that warms a DM’s heart.


----------



## Rackhir

This fight did not go at all how I had been expecting it to. 

The ability to actually heal during the fight made a huge difference. Since the Cyst was dishing out enough damage to drop Korm or Gareth in a single round. Though originally the reason why I had chosen the Avorals to summon, was that they actually do Lay On Hands, which does work in the Mournland. 

In any case, the healing they did was crucial in keeping Korm and Gareth on their feet, for another round and the Imp Augment Summons helped out there, since they can heal their HP in damage and that added another 21 hp or so to each's totals. I was cursing using my other SM VII in the room with the Tripod? creatures, because that would have meant another two Avorals for the big fight, but all of the combats were quite nasty.

I had been expecting that we'd have to rely on melee/summons to take down the BBEG, because I expected that the SR would have been too high for spells to work on it directly. So Nameless was loaded out completely with summoning and support/buff spells and essentially no offensive spells (he could do a limited number using the Runestaff of Power). As it turned out with Assay Resistance (+10 to SR Penetration), we'd have gone through it's SR (25 IIRC) like a hot knife through butter, while the summons were completely ineffective against it's DR (Silver and Lawful IIRC, which nobody had). It's AC was high enough that they had trouble hitting it and there were some other funky abilities that made it difficult to attack it in Melee. It did have decent elemental resistances though, but nothing that high.

Still the two limited wishes were crucial, though we MIGHT have been able to win without the second one bringing Korm back. That actually occurred close to the end of the fight, but Shil got the order screwed up when writing things up and didn't want to re-write things to fit the actual sequence. Well it was XP well spent.

Forcecage was another prescient choice, since we couldn't afford the distraction and damage the Elder Elemental was dishing out. Expensive (1,500 gold), but when it's your neck and the world on the line...


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:
			
		

> DR (Silver and Lawful IIRC, which nobody had). It did have decent elemental resistances as well though.




The story recap is a bit incorrect - Gareth was the only one who was able to naturally bypass the DR (Gareth's weapon counts as Silver/Lawful, among other things).  The main reason the group was working so hard to keep Gareth up was due to the fact Gareth was the only one who could deal massive amounts of damage.
There was at one point where Gareth was hit, dropped, cards were used, then the avorals, then gareth came up, and then he attacked, and was then knocked down again, then brought back up....Gareth was a cross between a pinyata and a yoyo.


----------



## Rackhir

AviLazar said:
			
		

> The story recap is a bit incorrect - Gareth was the only one who was able to naturally bypass the DR (Gareth's weapon counts as Silver/Lawful, among other things).  The main reason the group was working so hard to keep Gareth up was due to the fact Gareth was the only one who could deal massive amounts of damage.




The Cyst's DR was actually Byeshk and Lawful. My confusion stemmed from the fact that Shil told us after the fact that the creature the Cyst was based on had DR Silver and Lawful. Gareth was just doing enough damage on a hit to blow through the DR and still inflict significant damage.


----------



## Furby076

So I ask shilsen for dragonscale armor and he says it is not really common in this area, and the dragons of argonesson would most assuredly kill me for having it.  So then I say "what about balor skin armor"

Shilsens response:



> Right now I think you should be more concerned about the daelkyr who is asking the DM of his evil campaign to let him wear paladin armor




Now tell me thats not evil


----------



## shilsen

The quori within the warforged Saber continues to speak, saying with a reassuring tone, “We hope you are not too alarmed about this turn of events with the harnesses. We had always hoped that some might still exist in Xen’drik and be released into Khorvaire, and we’re sure it would have happened sooner or later.”

_Always hoped? Some might still exist in Xen’drik? The quori knew of the harnesses earlier?_ Despite the questions the comments raise, Six says nothing, just standing silently and watching the possessed warforged. 

The speaker continues, “So please don’t blame yourself. Though I gather you are suspicious of us, we have no enmity to you. And as far as Xoriat is concerned, I think we are all on the same side. Don’t you agree?” 

Gareth interrupts, his expression grim. “I’ll make my own decision about that. And if we’re on the same side, I’d like to meet you face to face. Just you. Not you in some unwilling creature’s body.”

The quori shakes Saber’s head. “Unfortunately, that is not possible, since we cannot yet enter your world in our own bodies. But with the harnesses, we have more options than before.” Seeing that none of the faces around it seem particularly enthused at the prospect, the quori adds, “There is nothing you can do about the harnesses now and we suggest you not worry about it. You will need our aid in the upcoming war and that is one of the best ways for us to reach you. And – in the interests of honesty – let us tell you that the harnesses are more widespread than you think. We have ensured that Cannith West now knows how to produce them too and is doing so to compete with Cannith South.”

With that information not adding to the Angels’ enthusiasm, the quori then turns to Six. “You are interested in the nature of the warforged and their creation, correct?”

“Yes,” says Six cautiously.

“We can help you with that. But we will have to discuss that in detail later. We need to return and discuss what has happened with our people. Again, congratulations. Though we believe you have not won the war, you have won a substantial victory.”

A second later, the two warforged drop to the ground. And then sit up and look around, seeming as obviously confused as creatures with unmoving metal faces can. “What … how did we get here?” asks Saber, her tone substantially different and voice much more feminine than it had been moments ago. 

“It’s … complicated,” says Six, as the two clamber back to their feet. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“We were with the expedition and you had just ridden up on those magical creatures, spoken to Lamaan and continued onwards. Then … I can’t remember anything after that. Were we attacked? Did you bring us out?”

Six hesitates, wondering what to say, but then decides to just stick with some part of the truth. “Unfortunately, you were possessed by quori and followed us to the place we were going to, and when we had to leave, we brought you with us.”

“Huh? Quori?”

“It’s too complicated to explain everything. You know humans dream when they sleep, right? Quori are horrible monsters that live on the plane of dreams. There’s something about your harnesses which lets them possess warforged.”

“These harnesses?” Confusion blends itself with alarm in Saber’s tone, and the warforged behind her tugs reflexively, and uselessly, at its harness. “We cannot remove them.”

“I know. We will have to talk to House Cannith about it. Is there anyone who was particularly involved with the production of the harnesses?”

“Tarya d’Cannith,” says Saber, clearly still attempting to assimilate this information.

“The woman at the meeting,” says Six to the other Angels, before turning back to her. “Both of you should go to the camp and get some … um, rest. We’ll speak later.”

Saber looks at him for a few seconds and then says uncertainly, “Thank you.” The two warforged turn and walk slowly away. A number of people from the camp have been watching the Angels with some combination of curiosity and surprise, and a few of them walk over to them. One, wearing the insignia of a Deneith soldier, points at the yellow sign still gleaming in the evening sky above them and asks, “Do you know what that is? It appeared only a few hours after you went into the Mournland three days ago.” 

Another of those who walked up says, “Corven has been traveling back and forth daily and he said that it’s visible from the northern camp and from across Breland, but he had no idea what it is.”

“Really?” says Korm. “We’re pretty sure that it’s not supposed to be there.”

Nameless laughs harshly and says, “As Commander Obvious said, of course it shouldn’t be there. We have some ideas about what it might…”

“Umm, guys?” interrupts Luna, pointing at the sign, “Look at that.”

As they look up, the sign swiftly begins to darken and change, turning from yellow to orange to a flaming red. And then cracks appear as it begins to fragment. In seconds, it simply disintegrates and disappears.

“O-kay,” says Gareth, looking at Nameless. “Do you have any idea what that means?”

The alienist shrugs. “I’m not sure. I think it means that we managed to prevent whatever it was supposed to achieve. But I can’t say for sure right now. Some investigation is in order.” He raises an eyebrow as a few of the people standing nearby look at him and step away hurriedly. “What?”

“Umm – you’re glowing!”

Nameless looks down at himself and realizes that not only are they right, due to the faint green light emanating from him, but his skin is itching and feeling warm, especially around the mark of the tentacled eye on his forehead. Unfortunately, with his normal form concealed beneath a _hat of disguise_, even he cannot see what’s really going on with his skin. Deciding that it’s worth it, he deactivates the magical disguise. The members of the expedition who were nearby are rewarded with the sight of Nameless in all his aberrant glory, complete with tentacle, glowing blue eyes and forehead mark. Some simply gape, others pale, and a few scream and run.

Nameless’ interest, however, is not on others’ responses but focused on himself. He and the other Angels see that the texture of his skin has changed, becoming slick and oily, with the faintest green tinge. Similarly colored light emanates from his entire body, shining through the clothes that garb him. What the others cannot see is that the light is accompanied by swiftly growing warmth and an increasingly painful throbbing at the back of his head, centered on the ‘wound’ left behind by the daelkyr from which his powers emanate. 

“What’s going on, Nameless?” asks Luna.

“I have … no idea.” The alienist places a hand to his head, where the pain is beginning to turn excruciating. Waves of agony mingled with heat run through him, and the green light around him pulses accordingly. Nameless’ vision begins to blur, though he is uncertain whether that is a separate effect or a result of the pain in his head. Though unable to be certain, he thinks he sees Gareth’s expression turn even more confused than it already is and the paladin grabbing at his armor.

Six, Korm and Luna certainly see it happen, as Gareth says, “Ow!” and smacks at the armor on his back. Then he quickly begins to start removing it, saying, “Hey! Someone help me get this off!”

“That’s beautiful,” says Korm. “Nameless starts glowing and that makes Gareth take his clothes off. Are you two about to do something strange?”

“Not if I can help it,” says Six, and Luna just settles for changing from her shifter form in preparation for any problems that may occur. She assumes a shape she has been looking forward to trying for a while, expanding hugely and turning roughly spherical, with arms transforming into giant tentacles and skin turning barklike and much greener than Nameless’. In seconds, a huge tendriculos sits where Luna had stood. The few expedition members who had still stayed close by take one look at the gigantic plant and run.

Six looks at Korm. “Again, why do I stay with you people?”

Korm shrugs. “Because you’re a sadist _and_ a masochist? On the bright side, I’m not growing tentacles out of my face. See?” The Gatekeeper stops and glances at the alienist, who is swaying gently back and forth, now with both hand and tentacle clutching his head. “Nameless – you okay? Can we do anything?”

“I don’t…,” begins Nameless, trying to block out the pain. Then there is one last surge of agony and the light he has been emanating bursts outwards in a flash and goes out. There is no external physical change, his skin still remaining oily and faintly green, but he realizes that the ‘wound’ in his head has disappeared. 

To his complete and utter surprise, Nameless realizes that not only does he still retain his powers but that they have actually increased. And he realizes why. At this very instant, Xoriat has just become coterminous with Eberron. As the Plane of Madness extends invisible tentacles to link the two planes, through his connection and affinity to Xoriat through both Antaratma and Cyaegha, Nameless has just achieved the consummation of his relationship to it, something which no alienist in the history of the world has ever reached. 

In a hushed tone that is simultaneously awed and triumphant, thrumming with latent power, Nameless announces, “I have achieved transcendence.”

“Huh?!”

“Transcendence. The final step in my path as an alienist. I had not expected it* this soon, but it has happened. And I am healed of the touch of Antaratma. My power is now fully my own. I am no longer human, or an aberration, for that matter. I am now an outsider.” Nameless takes a deep breath. “But there is bad news. Xoriat just became coterminous with Eberron.”

“What?” growls Luna, the voice especially tinny in comparison to her giant plant form. “I thought we just prevented that!”

“So I had hoped. I will need to do some divining to work out exactly what happened. And talk to Jaela and Saala.”

“That’s a good idea,” says Gareth, who now has all the armor above his waist removed. He pulls his shirt over his head and turns his back towards the others. “But something’s burning on my back. What is it?”

The others look at the paladin’s muscular back, marked with the signs of Mordain’s handiwork. Most of which is currently overlaid by what looks like a giant red tattoo which covers the upper half of his back and extends up the rear and right side of his neck. “It’s a dragonmark,” says Six.

“A dragonmark? I just manifested a dragonmark?”

Nameless studies the mark carefully. “Not just any dragonmark. It’s a Siberys mark.”** 

“What?! I don’t think I’ve ever even met someone with a Siberys mark!”

“Well,” the alienist says dryly, “You have now.”

Almost dislocating his neck in an attempt to see his back and barely catching a glimpse of the throbbing mark, Gareth looks at Nameless suspiciously. “Why did this happen just as you had your, whatever, transcendence? Did that have something to do with it?”

Nameless’ tone turns even dryer. “I appreciate the thought, but no, I didn’t gift you with a Siberys mark. You should be used to strange things happening to us. And we just achieved one of the most unusual feats that anyone on Khorvaire has ever had to partake in, so extraordinary and unexpected results are not that surprising.” _Though I really had not expected either of these._ “Now put your shirt back on. I need to transport us to Jaela and see what she has to say about the situation.”

While Gareth is complying, Nameless feels a tickling in his mind, a precursor to the _sending_ which follows. The voice is that of Trillia – “Hope you get this. Did you see sign in sky which just disappeared? I feel stronger presence of Xoriat since then. What is going on?” 

“Sending,” Nameless says to the others, before replying, “Xoriat is coterminous again. I have transcended. I will return to Sharn shortly to speak with you after I investigate the situation further.”

“I’m not going to Sharn!” Luna says promptly. Korm looks up at the humongous plant and grins, “Yeah, we know. And it’s a good thing for Sharn too!”
Gareth, having re-donned his armor instantly due to its magical ability to appear around him at command, says, “Whatever. But first we need to go to….” He stops and raises a hand to his head, looking a little surprised. “It’s Jaela.” The paladin proceeds to repeat the Keeper’s words. “Did you find the seed? What happened? The Mark is gone but the Flame says Xoriat has returned. See me as soon as you can.” Gareth replies simply, “All right. We will be there very soon.”

“Looks like everyone wants to know what we are d…,” begins Nameless, before laughing harshly as a third _sending_ contacts him. This one is from the blind hag seeress, Sora Teraza. “Your actions have borne their fruit. The plane of Madness is back. You will lead in the coming war. We will aid as we can.” The alienist replies, “We may want to consult with you in a day or so. But we would like to avoid your sister Sora Maenya.”

“What was that?” asks Six. “One of the hags?” 

“Yes,” says Nameless. “It seems today is a day for us to receive calls. Which reminds me, I should send one too.” He casts a _sending_ of his own, this one to the ancient psion Havakhad, leader of the kalashtar in Sharn. “This is Nameless. We have dire news regarding quori ability to possess some warforged. Guard yourself in case of attack. I shall meet you soon.” 

The alienist waits, but there is no response, and after a minute passes, he looks at the others. “No reply from Havakhad. That’s not good. Maybe the quori got to him already.” He shakes his head. “No way to know till we get there. Now everyone gather around. We have a long list of people to visit. First stop, Jaela. If anyone does, she’ll know more about the…”

*...*

“…situation,” says Jaela. Though her voice is still stronger than one might expect from a child of her stature, her expression and attitude bespeak great weariness, and she explains the reason. “I have been communing with the Flame regularly since you left and have done so after the mark disappeared too. Your actions have prevented the daelkyr lords bound in Khyber from being freed. If you had been slain, Khorvaire would have been lost. The Seed was intended to reach the mark in the sky and use your ‘essence’, as you said the daelkyr mentioned, to both free the daelkyr and make Xoriat coterminous. The former you prevented. The latter, however, has now occurred. Since Xoriat is now coterminous with Eberron, planar travel between the two is now possible, as is the opening of portals, whether permanent or not. At least one portal has already opened, at the site of the seed. Xoriat will invade at any moment.”

Jaela takes a deep breath and looks around, but none of the Angels interrupt, and she continues, “I have already contacted the leaders of Breland, Aundair and Karrnath, and asked them for a meeting as soon as possible, so that Khorvaire can ready for the initial assault. This will take time, but we have a small advantage in that time passes ten times more slowly on Xoriat.”*** The Keeper looks around again and says, “I hope to invite many others there as well. I would also like you to be present at this meeting.”

“Certainly,” says Nameless, and Gareth adds, “Your wish is my command, Keeper.”

“Thank you. Do you have any particular plans regarding the future?”

“We plan to return to Sharn and then go to Argonnessen to see if we can learn anything from the dragons about the dimensional seals and how the Gatekeepers sundered Xoriat from Eberron.”

“That is a good idea,” says Jaela. “I had actually intended to suggest that to you. Nobody that I know of has gone to Argonnessen and returned, but you,” she smiles slightly, “Have already done enough things that nobody has, so you are the likeliest to do so and succeed. But before you do that, I would appreciate it if you visited the original location of the Seed and investigated the status of the portal I believe to be there.”

“Very well,” says Nameless. “But we also have some more information for you.” He proceeds to explain about his transcendence, the situation with the quori, and Gareth manifesting a mark of Siberys.

Jaela listens patiently, but clearly she considers all of these matters, especially Nameless’ and Gareth’s changes, as secondary to the situation with Xoriat. “The quori are a concern for another time,” she says, “But what has happened to you and Gareth only confirms what I know already – that your actions will be central to this war with Xoriat.”

After some more discussion, the Angels take their leave, saying that they will go into the Mournland the next day and then return to say what they find. Luna, after the requisite amount of grumbling, agrees to go along with them as they head back to Sharn.

“We’ve got a lot of people to meet,” says Nameless, as he prepares to _teleport_ them back. “But I especially want to find out what is happening with…”

*…*

“…Havakhad,” says Nameless, looking at the four kalashtar guards standing around the entrance to the Shrine of Il-Yannah.

One of them, whom he had seen before, says, “You did not know? The enlightened Havakhad is no more. He died a week ago.”

_Damn!_ “How was he killed?”

The kalashtar looks surprised and mildly alarmed. “Killed? No, he died of old age.”

_I need to speak to someone higher up._ “Thank you for the information. Who has taken up his position?”

“Our new leader is Matsavan. He will be in the shrine.”

At the alienist’s request, three of the guards escort him and the other Angels inside, leading them to the shrine in the center of the building. Along the way, they add a few more kalashtar to the escort. 

“They seem a little on edge,” whispers Korm to Six as they walk along. “Last time we were all here,” Six whispers, “Most of us got possessed by quori, who tried to kill Havakhad, their leader.” Korm sighs. “Of course you did.”

Reaching the shrine, the Angels find Matsavan, a burly middle-aged kalashtar with a shaven and tattooed pate. He is more than a little suspicious of the Angels at first, but responds better when they are joined by a young woman, the warrior-monk Selkatari, whom those besides Korm have met before. She vouches for the adventurers and asks curiously why they are here. 

Without wasting any time, Nameless provides a detailed description of the situation with the warforged harnesses and the quori. When he finishes, instead of saying anything Matsavan looks at Six. “No,” says Six, “My harness cannot be possessed. It has been modified.”

“Can the other harnesses be thus modified?” asks the kalashtar thoughtfully.

“I guess,” says the warforged, “But that is an ability we do not have. But we will speak to House Cannith about the problem, so that no more harnesses are produced.” _Well, not by Cannith South._ 

Matsavan remains silent for a few seconds and then looks at Selkatari, who has been watching him just as silently. Then he looks around at the Angels. “As you realize, this is very worrying for us. But I thank you for informing us. We shall have to discuss this. Perhaps I can speak to you about this afterwards?”

Nameless grimaces. “Perhaps, but we have even bigger problems to deal with.” Matsavan simply watches quizzically and the alienist continues, “Xoriat has become coterminous with Eberron again. The daelkyr will be invading soon, if they have not begun already.” Seeing that the expression in the kalashtar’s eyes seems to say that he’s thinking the Angels are delusional, drunk or both, Nameless says, “Believe me, we are not joking.”

He proceeds to give a very succinct description of the situation. Unsurprisingly, both of the kalashtar are significantly concerned, though they both display unusual composure at the information. After a short discussion, the Angels promise to contact them if they learn any more about the quori, and then leave. 

Once outside, Six says, “And now to House Cannith.” He adds gloomily, “Not that I expect them to be able to do much about the…”


* Since the PCs hit 15th level, I gave Rackhir the option of trading out one of Nameless’ previously taken wizard levels (he was Wizard6/Alienist8 at 14th) for alienist, so he could go Wizard5/Alienist10.

** I allowed Gareth to take the Siberys mark as a feat, rather than going through the Heir of Siberys PrC.

*** Officially in the ECS it’s a 60:1 ratio, but I’m using 10:1 instead.


----------



## shilsen

“…harnesses.” 

Six sits back in his chair after completing his narration. Sitting across the table from him are Tarya d’Cannith and Jerim d’Cannith, the two who had been there during his last meeting with the House, when he signed over all rights to the harnesses and their manufacture. _And now I’m glad I did, though I’d rather they hadn’t used it this quickly. I did warn them to be careful, but let’s see if they blame me for it._

Luckily, the Cannith members are much more concerned about the news than interested in assigning blame. They are also uninformed about the quori, necessitating a quick explanation from Nameless. Once he is done, Tarya says, “Is there any other information about this that you have?”

“No, we’ve told you all that we know.”

She pulls a wry face, but nods, “Thank you. We had actually been planning to contact you, since we had discovered that Cannith West is producing these harnesses too. We’ll … see what we can do about it. Let us know if you discover any more, please.”

“We will,” says Six. “And could you contact me if you learn anything about dealing with this problem?”

“Yes, we will.”

“I’d like to ask one more thing,” says Six. “I know from the time your artificers studied my harness that it’s impossible to remove, though maybe it could be done while continually repairing the warforged involved. I know some artificers can drain magical items to create others. Could that destroy the harnesses?”

Tarya hesitates and then shakes her head. “I doubt it. I presume you know that someone creating a magical item normally has to invest some of their personal energy into it. That is what an artificer can draw from one item and use to create another. One of the interesting things about the harnesses is that though the creator needs to be trained in the construction of magical items, it requires no such personal energy. That is why we could produce so many in a short time.” She grimaces slightly. “But if we find a way to deal with it, we’ll certainly let you know.”

After leaving House Cannith, Six suggests to the others that they split up, since there are a number of others they need to speak to. The Angels head in various directions, visiting Trillia, Smith, Lalia, and Balan over the remainder of the day. All of those they meet are informed about the situation with the daelkyr and Xoriat, while Six also fills Smith in on the case with the warforged. Though naturally alarmed, all of the four are used to dealing with difficult situations, and they individually promise to help as they are able. Smith also promises Six that he will warn the warforged to beware of the harnesses and also to keep an eye on those who have already been fitted with them, in case of strange behavior.  

Eventually, the Angels meet back at the Gray House. Before turning in at night, Nameless collects them together with Fett and says to the changeling, “As we’ve told you, we’re going to be quite busy and likely outside Sharn in the immediate future. While we are, I want you to do a couple of things. I want you to find out who was behind us getting kicked out and, as discreetly as possible, to begin looking for embarrassing, criminal, or social black marks in their individual history or those of their families. Information sufficient for us to learn more via divination magic would be fine, but if you can just find the information yourself, that would be fine too. I just want this to be air-tight. If you have any questions about the accuracy of the information obtained, please inform us of it too. Also, any possible points of pressure on their businesses, including things we could either disrupt, shut down or supersede. Any loans that could be bought up and called in, legal disputes where we could assist the other party, etc. Ideally these would be things we could hit them all at once with or in a short period of time. With a certain amount of the most damaging stuff in reserve for leverage to persuade them of the wisdom of letting us alone and not screwing with us in the future.”

Fett grinning broadly, nods. “Not a problem.”

Looking at Luna, Nameless says, “See? I keep my promises. I said we’d make them pay.”

The druid grumbles, “Yeah, but a storm above their houses is more fun!”

“Yes, and more imprecise and problematical. Gareth, I’d like you to use your knowledge of legal matters to ensure that everything we end up doing is legally above-board. I have no intention of breaking any laws.”

“All right,” says the paladin.

“Good. Does anyone object to me giving Fett a couple of thousand galifars to get started on this?”

The others shake their heads, though Gareth adds, “That’s fine, though that much is probably not needed.”

“Yes,” says Nameless dryly, “I appreciate your taking the ‘greedy bastard’ position in the group, Gareth.” After handing over the money to Fett, he says, “Let’s get some rest. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

* * * * *
The next morning, Nameless awakes to a sensation of warmth that spans his forehead. Going to the mirror on the wall, he sees that the permanent imprint of the tentacled eye, which he has borne since consigning his soul to Cyäegha, has extended its tentacles into a dark network which spans his entire forehead. It resembles a dragonmark, but not one of the more common ones. The eye in the center has actually extended from his forehead and is now at the end of a tiny tentacle a couple of inches long. The tentacle moves back and forth of its own volition. _Well, that’s interesting!_ The alienist focuses on the mark and calls on its power.

There is a faint popping sound and then the skin splits in two-inch long sections all over his body. Dozens of eyes push themselves out of the splits, and a couple of seconds later, Nameless’ face and arms – and, beneath his clothing, the rest of his body – is covered with the orbs, each rolling back and forth as it peers in a different direction. Each eye is a facsimile of the one on his forehead. As they appear, Nameless feels a wave of power wash over him, further – albeit temporarily – changing his already unique state.*

The alienist laughs aloud, and then pauses, noticing the harshness of his own tone. For a long moment, Nameless looks at himself in the mirror, remembering what he had once been as Edgar Thorn, and thinking of whom – or perhaps more properly, what – he has become. 

If Nameless is pleased with the change to himself, he is positively giddy once he prepares his spells and casts one which he has been looking forward to for many months. _Mind Blank! And that’s the end of everyone and their second cousin spying on me._ The alienist pauses to think for a moment about his companions, who will not have the same protection. _Well, I can’t protect everyone._

A while later, Nameless walks down to join the others. As usual, he wears a magical disguise, making him look exactly like he does but concealing his tentacle and the permanent blue glow from his eyes. The mark and the tentacular eye, however, are clearly visible. 

Korm looks up from his breakfast and cocks an eyebrow. “Very nice. What happened? And are you feeling like letting it all hang out today?”

Nameless shakes his head, causing the third eye to bob back and forth. “You can’t see the tentacle, can you? I have the _hat of disguise_ in use. But this seems immune to it. It’s a mark of my transcendence.”

“I’m not an expert on those things,” says the Gatekeeper, “But that looks like a dragonmark. Is it?”

“Yes,” says Nameless shortly. “Aberrant.”

“Really? What does it do?” asks Korm.

“You’ll find out,” says Nameless. 

Korm grins. “So you want to be mysterious? Suit yourself. I’d say something about weird and freaky, but…,” he says and then frowns for a moment. A second later, his face changes, the eyes becoming bulbous, the flesh darker and grayer, and mandibles appear from either side of his mouth. “I guess I finally digested that stonesinger, um, flesh.”

“That’s ugly!” says Gareth. “Now if you could do this, I’d be impressed.” A bright silver glow appears around the paladin. “I have reached the culmination of my skills as an exorcist of the Silver Flame too.”

Six, sitting away from the table and sketching something, shakes his head. “I have got to find some new friends!”

Nameless chuckles harshly, and then Luna says, “More importantly, does that dragonmark let you fly an airship?” The alienist sighs. “I should have known you’d ask that. And no, it doesn’t. As I’ve said only twenty or thirty times, only the Lyrandar Mark of Storm allows that.”

“Sh*t!” scowls Luna. “Then what good is yours? Just like Gareth and his dumb Siberys mark…”

Nameless quickly cuts her off. “I’ve got something else for you.” Reaching in a pouch, he produces the pearl necklace they found in the strange ambulatory, perhaps illusionary, forest in the Mournland and hands it to Luna. “I studied it,” he says, “And used an _analyze dweomer_ to be on the safe side. It has multiple properties. If you use the command word, which is ‘Sundar’, then…”

Luna, who has put on the necklace already, immediately says, “Sundar!” Instantly, she feels a tingle of magic and the other Angels see that she suddenly appears prettier and generally more attractive. It is a combination of many things, her garb appearing cleaner, her skin healthier, her teeth whiter, and many such little things. 

Nameless winces slightly and says, “Yes, of course you’d activate it before I can explain what it does. Anyway, it also seems to have some of the effects of the Mournland itself. It protects against divination magic, just like a _nondetection_ spell does, and also makes it impossible to contact the user through magical communication.” The alienist pauses, wondering if he should mention his suspicions, but then decides not to, since it’s not as if Luna will care anyway. _Note to self : Keep an eye out for whatever it is that’s going to possess Luna from the Necklace. There must be something. Gareth’s sword had a demon. I had a gate to Xoriat. Six’s harness would have left him open to the Quori and there were the magic items that enabled the Quori to possess us. There is zero chance that we stumbled across that necklace by accident. Someone or something has to be behind it. I’ll warn Six about it, since he’s suspicious of such things too and never sleeps._

Unaware and uncaring of such thoughts, Luna replies, “Fine by me. Way too many people keep calling us all the time anyway! Did you find out anything about those gems we found in the Seed?”

“Yes. As you know, they are all similar to a _continual flame_, but there’s a lot more to them. When pressed against a surface, they remain attached until removed.”

“Cool! What else?”

“There’s more, but what’s especially interesting is that their abilities, or rather the magnitude of their abilities increase dramatically as their numbers. Any object that a gem is attached to slowly repairs itself from damage, but it does so much faster as more gems are attached.”

“That’s awesome! I’m definitely going to stick them all over our house. And my room! And bed!”

Korm winces and then looks at Gareth and Six. He says, the words a little indistinct due to the mandibles which are still present around his mouth, “Did anyone else just have a vision of a naked gnome in the middle of a giant, glowing bed?” 

“Not until you mentioned it!” says Six. “I _really_ need to get other friends!”

Nameless ignores them and continues, “The last thing I could work out is that the gems also radiate a powerful _non-detection_ effect. A single gem radiates an effect a foot long, wide and high. If two are in close proximity, then the effect becomes two feet long, wide and high, so eight cubic feet. Ten would be a _thousand_ cubic feet. And so on. Just for the record, we have 333 gems which means,” he calculates in a couple of seconds, “36,926,037 cubic feet. I’m quite certain they were designed to make the Seed impossible to locate via normal divination magic. Of course,” he adds, a trifle smugly, “That didn’t work on me, as you know.”

“How much could we sell them for?” asks Gareth.

Luna looks at him like he is insane. “Sell them? Why?!”

“Because they’re not that helpful to us and we can probably sell them for a lot and buy better equipment.”

“You want to take a number of gems which we found inside a Seed crafted by a daelkyr lord and sell them, so they’re spread across who knows how much of Khorvaire?” asks Nameless. “Considering the circumstances under which we found them, have you failed to consider that they could be eggs or seeds of some kind themselves? Oh, and tell me again why Jaela thinks you’re actually a paladin?”

Gareth scowls. “Well, if they’re that dangerous, we shouldn’t use them. And if they’re safe enough to use, they’re safe enough to sell.”

Korm nods. “I agree.”

Even Gareth looks a little surprised. “With me?”

“No, I was talking to the Endless Blade. It said you’re a greedy bastard.”

“If you don’t like it,” frowns Gareth, “Then just divide the gems five ways and we’ll each use them as we wish.”

“Hell, no!” says Luna. “We’re using them for the house!”

“Even if they are dangerous,” says Six, “Can you think of anyone better equipped to keep them safe than us?” He waves a hand to indicate the others in the room. “And how much more could they affect all of you?” _And I shall be as careful as I can be around them._

Gareth continues to argue, but nobody else is convinced. Nameless does promise to keep them in the _portable hole_ for the moment. Luna, though she would apparently prefer to start decorating right now, reluctantly agrees.

“And I’m already being way too understanding in being in Sharn.” She scratches her chin thoughtfully. “But since I’m here, maybe I can get Fett to do something. I want some people hired to spend every day marching back and forth in front of that bitch Meira’s front door, with signs that say ‘TURNCOATS MUST GO!’ and ‘SHIFTERS SHOULDN’T TURN ON SHIFTERS!’ and ‘SHAME!’ And one should have a sign that says ‘ASK ME WHY WE’RE HERE’ and he should be loaded up with pamphlets explaining the manipulation of the courts and the hatred of good tax-paying citizens by elected/appointed officials and the miscarriage of justice that took place under the cover of night!”

Nameless starts laughing. “When have you ever paid taxes? Are you seriously trying to tell me that someone asking you for taxes wouldn’t just disappear forever?”

Gareth chuckles, “Someone trying to collect taxes from Luna wouldn’t disappear. Someone trying to collect taxes from Luna would become a permanent stain on the ground. With his head on a nearby pike with a _magic mouth_ on it shouting, ‘NOBODY TAKES MY TAXES BECAUSE I AM POOR, INNOCENT AND CUTE!’”

Luna scowls and then begins to laugh, “Okay, okay – so that’s true. But I still want to…”

“Shouldn’t we be heading for the Mournland now?” Six asks quickly. “Yes,” Korm replies, just as fast, “We really should get moving. Really!”

* * *

A few hours later, the Angels are talking to Lamaan d’Cannith. Though they try to persuade him that there is no reason for him to visit the Lord of Blades’ camp now that they have confirmed that the Lord of Blades is dead, he insists that he will have to do so. Finally, the Angels tell him to go ahead, and that they will ride ahead and confirm that it’s safe. Since they have something else to deal with, they won’t be back for a while, so he and his expedition should go on. Lamaan agrees, thanks them and gets the expedition on the move while they ride away.

As they ride on, Six says, “I’ll try to persuade the warforged to leave. Nameless, you’re sure you can sense something in that direction?”

“Not just something. It is Xoriat. I’m certain.”

“I presume it’s the portal Jaela mentioned,” opines Korm. “This should be educational.”

Once they near the warforged encampment, the Angels again stop at a distance and let Six go on ahead. It takes a significant amount of arguing and persuasion, but he eventually manages to persuade Prophet to take his people and leave the camp, with the plan to return in one day’s time. 

The Angels watch as the warforged, nearly fifty of them, depart the camp and head into the higher levels of the Glass Plateau to the north. Then they quickly begin to search the camp to see what it holds. The one really interesting thing they find is two levels below the surface – a fully functional creation forge. After a little discussion, they decide that if the Cannith members find it, they are even less likely to leave than otherwise. With a combination of earth-moving spells and elementals, they completely block off that section so that it will be next to impossible to find and enter.

With that done, the Angels ride on towards the Seed’s original location. As the miles roll away swiftly beneath the phantom hooves of their mounts, they reach the spot at which Nameless had originally picked up the strong abjuration aura from the dimensional seal, but now it is gone. Continuing on, they stop their mounts a little before the edge of the bowl-like area formed by the jagged crystalline cliffs. Moving up slowly and quietly, they look over. 

Where the seed had been, a little over half a mile from where they stand, is a huge portal. Over thirty feet tall and at least twenty wide, it looks like a jagged rip in the air, full of a chaotic whirl of colors, which constantly shift and change. Around it are a half dozen hemispherical structures, made of some pale green material, reminiscent of the structures you saw in the cavern around R’lyeh. There are scores of creatures moving around the structures and the portal, but the Angels are too far away to work out most details. There are certainly a number of creatures larger than human sized there, including a giant humanoid form. 

Seconds after the Angels arrive, the portal flashes and the whirls of color shift to form an inward-moving spiral. And then they go out for a moment, leaving a blank white space. A huge black globe with waving tentacles appears in it, clearly the silhouette of a beholder, except it stretches a good twenty feet across. The shape shrinks swiftly until it is the size of a normal beholder, which then pops out of the middle of the portal. As the colors reappear, three more beholders, one of the same size and two smaller, float up to greet the new arrival.

As Six pulls out a spyglass to get a better look, Gareth frowns worriedly. “I wonder if we can take that many of….” 

He doesn’t finish the sentence, almost biting his tongue in half as a huge fist hammers into the back of his head. 


* Nameless now has an unique aberrant mark. It is usable 1/day and lasts 1 rd per character level. When active, it grants him resistance to fire 10 and cold 10, immunity to disease, +4 save vs. poison, SR 25, +2 to CL, DR 5/byeshk, and cannot be flanked.


----------



## carborundum

My wait is over! Hooray!  Brilliant!

That sounds like fun; teleporting all over the continent, meeting interesting people and scaring them. I can barely imagine what the group must look like now when they're all in their natural forms. Pretty messed up!

And how dare you end on such a cliffhanger!!!

What fist? A freaky beholder fist ray? Someone dominated? Someone snuck up on them? ARGH! I can't take the tension!


----------



## Furby076

carborundum said:
			
		

> My wait is over! Hooray!  Brilliant!
> 
> That sounds like fun; teleporting all over the continent, meeting interesting people and scaring them. I can barely imagine what the group must look like now when they're all in their natural forms. Pretty messed up!
> 
> And how dare you end on such a cliffhanger!!!
> 
> What fist? A freaky beholder fist ray? Someone dominated? Someone snuck up on them? ARGH! I can't take the tension!





That was Six's fist. Basically saying "Shut the F up you dumb paladin who has no idea about the situation at hand"  Minus the "F up" Six would say that


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> My wait is over! Hooray!  Brilliant!




I've been juggling piles of stuff at work, so this writeup took a long time. I'm about 3 sessions behind at this time, and there's a lot more fun to come.



> That sounds like fun; teleporting all over the continent, meeting interesting people and scaring them.




Sometimes I'm not sure why I'm DMing these bums any more. They can go anywhere on the planet at will. Anywhere! Nobody mentioned that when I signed my DMing contract! 



> I can barely imagine what the group must look like now when they're all in their natural forms. Pretty messed up!




I don't think one can even call them _natural_ forms any more. AviLazar was saying recently that we should have a picture of the five of them. 



> And how dare you end on such a cliffhanger!!!
> 
> What fist? A freaky beholder fist ray? Someone dominated? Someone snuck up on them? ARGH! I can't take the tension!




One punch in the back of the head gets such a response? And nobody said anything about me getting Six to turn hundreds, maybe thousands, of warforged into perfect vessels for quori to enter Khorvaire through? Come on, man - that was such a great RBDM moment! Where's the love?


----------



## carborundum

shilsen said:
			
		

> One punch in the back of the head gets such a response? And nobody said anything about me getting Six to turn hundreds, maybe thousands, of warforged into perfect vessels for quori to enter Khorvaire through? Come on, man - that was such a great RBDM moment! Where's the love?




Okay - that was genius. You are indeed the master of "Give them what they want, then show them why it was a bad idea" - that goes (apparently) without saying. In my defense, I much as I love the Eberron setting, none of my players want to play it so I haven't got the books yet. Every time I almost buy the Campaign Setting I see something else to spend 50 euros on  
Hence I was a bit slow on picking up on the ramifications, not knowing the quori were evil dudes. The ones who 'helped out' seemed perfectly reasonable!

The fist thing had me wondering if it was a "Shut your pie-hole" or if they'd been spotted. Rereading in the wake of my new-found quori knowledge, I did indeed experience an overwhelming admiration for your masterful RBDM talents, so much so I said "Woah" out loud and distracted my girlfriend from Dr. Phil.

Better?


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> Okay - that was genius. You are indeed the master of "Give them what they want, then show them why it was a bad idea" - that goes (apparently) without saying.




I'm just generous. I give them what they want - and a little more.



> In my defense, I much as I love the Eberron setting, none of my players want to play it so I haven't got the books yet.




What? In that case, you need to get the books just so you can use them to beat some sense into them!



> Every time I almost buy the Campaign Setting I see something else to spend 50 euros on




It's 50 euros? Ow - that is pretty steep!



> Hence I was a bit slow on picking up on the ramifications, not knowing the quori were evil dudes. The ones who 'helped out' seemed perfectly reasonable!




All my evil guys are pretty reasonable! Six's player recently came up with a theory for how good, neutral and evil work in my campaign. I'll have to work it into the campaign writeup sometime.



> The fist thing had me wondering if it was a "Shut your pie-hole" or if they'd been spotted.




You'll see soon. Should have another writeup posted in the next 2-3 days. 



> Rereading in the wake of my new-found quori knowledge, I did indeed experience an overwhelming admiration for your masterful RBDM talents, so much so I said "Woah" out loud and distracted my girlfriend from Dr. Phil.
> 
> Better?




Better, even if I had to twist your arm for it 

As is usually the case with a lot of my best RB moments, it wasn't planned at all. When I introduced the harnesses, ages ago in-game and out on the island, I hadn't even really planned on the PCs using it. The harnesses were booby-trapped so they couldn't be removed. But Corven, who was then in the group, made a damn good check to defuse the boobytrap and get it off, so I thought I'd roll with it and let them get it off and on Six. I had a vague idea about the possession thing and thought it possible that Six might end up possessed at some point, but then after it started doing weird things (like becoming permanently attached and growing roots into him), he went to House Cannith. It made perfect sense to me that Cannith would want to use the technology if possible, so I had them offer to buy the rights to make them, and he agreed. And then it made sense for them to start putting them on their security, including on the ones going into a really dangerous area like the Mournland. Some of the quori were already interested in the Angels, and especially so recently when the impending invasion from Xoriat became a factor. So naturally they grabbed the opportunity to get involved. It was just a nice, natural progression. And Six having an unintentional role in the screwing of the warforged as a race (well, a large number of them) was just icing on the cake. 

And all because Corven's player said, "Can I defuse and get this off? I rolled a X," and I thought "Nice roll," and said, "Sure, you can." This is why I'm such a fan of not doing totally pre-planned plots and of giving the PCs lots of rope. Sometimes I don't even realize it's rope until they start playing with it and I go, "Hey - it looks like a noose!"


----------



## carborundum

I hadn't DM's in about 8 years til I finally found a group in my new home in the Netherlands (and learnt enough Dutch to do it properly.) Most of the words you need aren't in the textbooks!

I always wrote my own stuff, had my own world, cast of hundreds etc - but I didn't want to learn 3e and try and wing it simultaneously - hence we're doing the Savage Tide. It'll be a year before we finish it, so I'll just have to live vicariously til then!

Glad I found your story


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> I hadn't DM's in about 8 years til I finally found a group in my new home in the Netherlands (and learnt enough Dutch to do it properly.) Most of the words you need aren't in the textbooks!




Learning Dutch to DM? That's hardcore - and dedicated!



> I always wrote my own stuff, had my own world, cast of hundreds etc - but I didn't want to learn 3e and try and wing it simultaneously - hence we're doing the Savage Tide. It'll be a year before we finish it, so I'll just have to live vicariously til then!




I'm playing in a Savage Tide PbP game, and we just got to Here There Be Monsters. I quite like that AP, and it's better than Age of Worms and Shackled City, in my estimation.



> Glad I found your story




Glad you're enjoying it. Have some more...

* * * * * * * * * *

Powerful blows from a number of invisible enemies smash Nameless, Six and Gareth off their feet and to the ground. Reacting swiftly, the alienist rolls over and casts a _glitterdust_ in the air above him, the rain of golden particles outlining a huge amorphous figure. Luckily, the spell also blinds the creature, which roars and flails wildly around, while he rolls aside. “Invisible stalkers!” Nameless shouts. 

Gareth’s and Six’s attackers continue to hammer into them, but the paladin calls on his newly gained powers and a nimbus of light surrounds him. As a large fist smashes into him, the light erupts in a burst and this attacker too is blinded by the holy energy. Six, conversely, turns to darkness rather than light for protection. His harness springs into life and covers him with an armor of shadows. The warforged immediately activates one of its many abilities, disappearing in a puff of shadow and reappearing fifty feet away.

Luna, though tempted to attain a more powerful shape and jump into physical combat, restrains herself and casts a swift _faerie fire_, illuminating the two invisible creatures with lavender light. Now that all three enemies are visible, she immediately sends an empowered _arc of lightning_ through all three of the huge creatures. Korm’s own spell follows suit, though each of the druids finds that at least one creature is unaffected, displaying some form of resistance to magic.

Despite their size and resistance, with two of them blinded and their enemies able to see them, the invisible stalkers quickly go down under a hail of spells and weapons. “Well, that was certainly bracing!” grins Korm, cleaning his sword, ignoring the large bruise already purpling on the side of his face, and then looks at Nameless, who is looking all around him. “What’s with you?”

“I just cast a _See Invisibility_,” explains the alienist, eyes roving all around the area. 

“So? Are there more of those things around us?” 

“No. But a _see invisibility_ lets me see into the ethereal plane. And it’s crowded. _Very_ crowded.” Nameless looks at the hundreds – perhaps thousands – of translucent figures around them, covering the Mournland as far as he can see. The ghosts do not move, but simply hang motionlessly in mid-air, staring blankly ahead of themselves with expressions of intermingled tiredness, sorrow and ennui. Except for a select group. A thick crowd of ghosts form a hemisphere extending sixty feet away from the Angels, all watching them with intent expressions. 

Nameless explains exactly what he sees. “I think we just found the explanation to why no corpse from the Mournland can be raised. If everyone who died here has been turned into a ghost, then neither a _raise dead_, nor a _reincarnate_, nor even a _resurrection_, would be able to bring them back.” 

“Can you talk to them?” asks Luna, intrigued at the news.

Nameless addresses the ghosts, but there is no response. “They don’t reply, or show any signs of having heard. But they can see us. That’s why there’s a crowd around us, I’m sure. On the ethereal plane one can see only to a distance of sixty feet, so all those that can see us have gathered around to watch, until there is no space. Fascinating!”

“I’m sure it is,” says Gareth, “But can you put up a _rope trick_? I need some healing.”

Six, who has moved a little distance away and been studying the portal and the creatures around it, says, “Good idea. I think we attracted some attention. Let’s get healed and pull back.”

Nameless complies and the Angels quickly enter the _rope trick_ and tend to their wounds. As they climb out and prepare to leave, the alienist shouts a warning. “Look out!”

Approximately a hundred feet from the Angels, seven creatures suddenly appear, _teleport_ing in invisibly – or at least invisible to anyone except Nameless’ enhanced sight – and hovering a short distance off the ground. 

Four of them are illithids, but they are of two distinct types. Three of them have had most of their facial tentacles amputated, with small gems attached to the ends of what remains, resembling the mind flayer spellcaster that the Angels had faced at Yarkuun Draal. The fourth is a little taller and paler, with an unusual symbol etched into its forehead. The non-illithids are a trio of creatures that look like four-legged spiders with a pair of tentacles each. 

The tall mind flayer flies upwards, gesturing at the Angels and shouting in daelkyr, “They are the ones we were warned of. Take them down. The alienist first!”

_Great! Fame at last!_ Nameless swiftly conjures a _shield_ to protect himself and calls forth a field of tentacles to ensnare the attackers. Two of the illithid spellcasters respond immediately, transporting themselves and as many of their allies as they can reach. One of the spider-like creatures is left behind and though it struggles vainly, the tentacles pin it down and begin to crush it.

As soon as they reappear, one of the mind flayers hurls a swift trio of _scorching ray_s at Nameless. In the split second before they hit, the alienist’s _contingency_ activates, bringing a _protection from energy_ into effect. The _ray_s hit harmlessly, as does the maximized _fireball_ which blossoms around him next. His allies, however, are not so lucky, except for Six, who darts out of the way.

While Gareth, Korm and Luna stagger at the searing pain, the two spider-like creatures fly forward to strike at the two druids. As they come within range, their tentacles lash out to touch Korm and Luna, and the targets each cry out in surprise, feeling a fogginess settle over their minds. 

“Aaarrgh!” shouts Luna, as the attacking creature appears, growing drastically as she expands into a huge tendriculos. “What the hell is this?!”

“Mindshredders,” snaps Nameless. “They’re a rare kind of aberration. These are zenthals – the most powerful kind. Their touch can sap your will.”

“Tell us something we don’t know!” growls Korm, hacking at the one before him and finding it very difficult to hit. 

“They have magical protection?”

“Forget them – focus on the mind flayers!” shouts Gareth, calling on the Endless Blade to fly forward and smite one of the spellcasters with all his might. 

Nameless’ attention is on the illithid leader, who is in turn watching him intently as if awaiting an action. Presuming that it is waiting to disrupt his spells, the alienist begins a weaker spell and the illithid says, “You cannot halt Xoriat!” And promptly drops an area of _silence_ around him. 

Nameless just grins back as the spell ends and flies upwards, his _arcane sight_ letting him see the smallest distance he has to cover. As soon as he emerges outside the area, he begins the spell he intended to cast all along. “Xoriat? I’ll show you Xoriat!”   

The mind flayer’s brow furrows and then it turns, to find itself face-to-face with Kha’tvan’ga. Before it can respond, the eldritch horror’s four tentacles slam down, battering and writhing around it. There is a faint popping sound, and then both horror and its target disappear.

With their leader suddenly gone and the numbers now evened, the Angels quickly turn the tide, but the aberrations put up a desperate fight. More _fireball_s, _sound lance_s and _scorching ray_s, all maximized for effect, hammer the Angels, and the zenthals continue to drain the druids’ minds. But, while seriously hurt, all of the Angels have an incredible ability to soak up damage, and an even greater ability to inflict it. 

Though no longer able to cast his most powerful spells, Korm settles for taking apart one of the zenthals with his sword, its meteoric blade inflicting especial damage to the aberration. As it staggers under the assault, a swift _arc of lightning_ sends it down in a smoking heap. 

The other end of the _arc of lightning_ extends to the second zenthal, which is actually sticking out of Luna’s giant maw at this moment. “Yaaargh!” shouts the tendriculos as the _arc_ extends into her mouth, “Watch where you throw that, idiot!” Infuriated, she bites down viciously and swallows, causing the feebly twitching zenthal to disappear from sight. And then spits out a piece of it. “Oh, yuck! How do you eat that crap, Korm?”

Across the battlefield, Six and Gareth make short work of the illithid spellcasters, especially since Nameless _feeblemind_s one and renders it helpless. 

By the time Kha’tvan’ga reappears with its prey, the battle is almost over. As soon as it does so, the mind flayer leader shrieks and flees, its mind having been broken by the experience, despite its experience of Xoriat. Before it can get a hundred feet away, a couple more spells cause it literally explode in mid-air.

With the enemies disposed of, Nameless snaps, “Everyone get in the _rope trick_ and get healed – fast. We’re likely to have more company very soon. Six – you don’t need to get in there to repair yourself. Could you check what’s going on there?” 

“Sure.”

Despite Nameless’ concerns, another attack does not materialize, though it is clear that there is a certain degree of alarm and excitement among the aberrations at the portal. After a couple of minutes, the Angels see another creature appear through the planar gate, this one a giant more than a dozen feet tall, carrying a proportionately large maul, and borne on leathery wings. It is followed swiftly by a pair of dolgaunts.

“So what do we do now?” asks Luna. “Do we go down there and kill them all?”

Nameless, who has borrowed Six’s spyglass to get a better look, shakes his head. “We don’t have enough firepower. So far, I see two beholders, four gauths, seven mind flayers, over a dozen dolgaunts, two of the big winged giants (including the one we just saw come through), four mindshredder zenthals, three nagas, a five-headed shrieking terror and two dozen runehounds. The runehounds make things even more complicated, since they have blindsight to a distance of 500 feet. And even if they weren’t there and we could surprise them, we couldn’t take them all. Just those mindflayers and zenthals nearly took us out. With beholders present, we’d be dead as soon they got us in their anti-magic cones.” He scratches his chin thoughtfully with his tentacle. “Of course, we could play guerilla and just stay nearby. With all the Mournland monstrosities that we seem to attract, we might be able to lure something to attack their forces.”

Six shakes his head. “That’s too risky. We’re on a scouting mission. Let’s get the rate of arrival of the enemy and the maximum size of creature that can get through, and we can leave.”

“Doesn’t look like there’s a fixed speed,” says Korm. “Nothing came through for a few minutes and then that giant and the dolgaunts in less than a minute of each other. And that gate’s what, 20 feet wide and 30 feet high? Something very big could come through, especially if it can be squeezed through.” 

“As usual, good news abounds.” Six turns to Nameless. “Tell me, could a daelkyr lord add any abilities to a creature to make existence in the Mournland viable? If so, how easy do you think it might be? And what could a daelkyr lord do if he got hold of a creation forge? I’m wondering because the warforged camp is only a few miles from here. The forge is far too large to be moved, and even though we’ve hidden it well, I don’t know how safe it is.”

Nameless replies, “I can’t see the forge helping them, since it is built for a specific task and has a unique form of activation. The daelkyr are incredibly good at remaking creatures into new forms, and most of the aberration types are their creation, so with enough effort they could likely come up with creatures that would have an easier time surviving in the Mournland. But even they probably wouldn’t be able to create something which could heal in the Mournland, because that is simply the way this place works. And creating specific species takes time. It would take years, and more likely decades or centuries to create such new species. Incidentally, that’s probably another reason the daelkyr like Eberron. Work done here is ten times as fast as work done on Xoriat.”

“So this is their preferred laboratory?” says Six. “How reassuring! You and Korm know the most about aberrations. Do these look like beachhead troops to you? Do you think they are preparing for scouting, or defense, or anything else? They don’t seem to be putting together another strike team, from what I can see.”

“Beachhead troops?” asks Korm.

“It’s a military term. I’ve been reading more about the Last War while you sleep,” explains Six.

“Definitely ‘beachhead troops,’” says Nameless. “Even the daelkyr armies don’t consist primarily of such powerful creatures. I’m certain these are the ones sent through to hold the area until a larger number of troops can come through.” He smiles thinly. “It looks like there’s a lot of discussion among the mind flayers, beholders and zenthals, so we probably do have them worried since the others didn’t return.”

Six emits a metallic laugh. “You are all low on spells, we are outnumbered, with the enemy able to detect our approach and nullify any magic we do have. Since they’re worried, let’s attack. Either we can draw out some of their forces, by moving in slowly, and then swiftly circle on the stags to attack the remainder. Or do Nameless’ plan for finding some Mournland creatures and send them their way.”

“That sounds like fun,” says Korm, and Luna says, “And I can hit them from a long way away.” Six turns and stares at the two, before saying heavily, “My mistake! I had forgotten that you two do not understand sarcasm well. I. Was. Kidding.”

Nameless nods. “We need to get to the dragons. For a little space we may triumph on the field, but against the power of Xoriat there is no victory. What we see here is not even the smallest nail of a finger of its hand. I still hope for victory, but not simply by force of arms.* Only with the aid of the dragons can we once again sunder Xoriat from Eberron. We need to get to Argonnessen. We can use _sending_s to stay in contact with the Keeper and _teleport_ back when the conference is to occur.” He waves a hand at the portal. “The mounts do give us an incredible movement advantage over the forces at the gate, but that is all. _Dimension lock_ing the gate is pointless, unless we can kill all of the creatures that can _dispel magic_. Neither can we destroy it. So there is no point of attacking, unless someone has a brilliant plan for wiping out all the forces there. It might be worth destroying the domes, whatever they are, but again we would need to get through the defenders first.”

Luna suggest, “I could go _invisible_ and fly over and _dispel_ the gate so no more stuff comes out of it. Also, maybe we could go in separate groups to the dragons and the Keeper and maybe to Mordain also, since we could use his magic?”

Nameless shakes his head. “With the dolgaunts and hounds present, they would detect you long before you get in range, and you’re not powerful enough to be able to _dispel_ the gate anyway.”

“Hey! How do you know?”

“I do. As for the other things, with my teleportation, it’s actually much faster if we travel together than if we split up. And since Jaela had asked us to investigate the gate and return and tell her what we found, we might as well do so together.”

Gareth says thoughtfully, “Well, we can’t close the hole, but how about blowing it up? We have a couple of _bag_s _of holding_ and we have a _portable hole_. See what I’m saying?”

After a second, Nameless begins to grin. “Yes, yes – I do!”

Gareth grins too. “We go ethereal and then come out of it, drop the two and then go ethereal again. BAM!”

Korm begins to laugh, followed by Luna. “I like it!”

Six says, more thoughtfully, “Interesting! I would like to speak to some artificers about other such possibilities, but of course we don’t have time for that now.”

After some discussion and argument about the risks involved, the Angels finally decide that Gareth and Six should be the ones to try it. The choice is built around the presence of the hundreds of watching ghosts, since Gareth can best protect himself from them and resist if they are inimical, and Six is the next most likely to do so.

Gareth layers a large number of spells on both Six and himself, running through almost everything remaining in his armament. Then both of them mount their steeds and prepare themselves. “Ready? Go!” 

As soon as they appear on the ethereal plane, the ghosts’ expressions of hopelessness and apathy disappear. With shrieks of what seem to be mingled pain, anger and hope, they surge forward. Since they are all solid here, only the front rank can reach Six and Gareth, but they swarm around them – especially since they can move in all dimensions here – trying to attack. Most are unable to do so due to the _sanctuary_ spells Gareth had cast, but some manage to touch them. Those that attempt to drain their energy fail due to more protective spells, but a couple of others hammer at them with their fists, inflicting a little damage. 

Other ghosts behind the front line unleash terrifying howls, sending waves of panic washing over the two targets. These have no effect on Gareth and Six resists most, but the volume of the attacks finally overwhelms him. The faces of other ghosts shift strangely, causing more magical effects, some of which penetrate the protective spells, scouring both human flesh and warforged metal. A few of the ghosts also gesture and Gareth and Six feel bands of mental energy seizing them, and while they fight off most they cannot resist them all.

Unfortunately, someone else has even bigger problems. Nameless is watching the entire thing, and all of the gaze attacks and other effects that bounce off Six’s and Gareth’s protections affect him, even though such effects should be unable to affect someone on the material plane. Badly.**

The alienist staggers back, but seeing Six cower in fear and realizing that the warforged has nowhere to flee to and will be overwhelmed in seconds, he casts a _greater dispel magic_, manipulating the magic so that it functions on the ethereal plane. As Six reappears on the material plane, Nameless quickly closes his eyes and shouts, “I need a _death ward_! And someone grab Six!”

Not having seen what Nameless has but clearly noting the effects on him, Korm quickly casts a _death ward_, while Luna wraps her huge tentacles around Six. Gareth reappears a second later, shaking his head. “So much for that attempt! Thank the Flame for all those spells we put up. Nameless, you okay?”

“Yes. Barely.” Nameless dismisses the _see invisibility_ to be on the safe side and then opens his eyes, before quickly casting a _break enchantment_ to end the effect on Six. The warforged climbs to his feet. “That was not pleasant!”

After they explain to the two druids what just occurred, Gareth asks, “Is it possible to force someone into the ethereal? Could one of your stags run up to an aberration, touch him and take him to the ethereal and leave him there?”

“No,” says Nameless, “You can’t force someone to go ethereal. Or at least not using _etherealness_, which is what the stags use. You can cast _plane shift_ offensively and send someone to the ethereal, but you appear anywhere from five to five hundred miles from your intended destination. Which means using it to get someone mugged by ghosts here might not work, but if they appear anywhere within the borders of the Mournland, they’re probably screwed. So it’s not really an option. No, after what just happened, I think we should leave. Now!”

Luna says, “Wait! Would they want to live at our house and haunt our backyard? It seems like they would help keep out the riff-raff.”

Korm sighs. “Do you feel like turning ethereal and talking to them?”

“Unfortunately I can’t turn into something ghost-proof? But maybe we can talk from a safe distance?”

“Let it go, Luna,” says Nameless. “This is _not_ a good idea.”

“What he said,” nods Six. “This is why we don’t talk to anything in the Mournland. Let’s go.”

After a little arguing, Luna desists, and the Angels mount up and depart. They make a stop at the warforged camp, which the Cannith expedition members are now exploring. Nameless finds Lamaan and explains in short, “A portal to Xoriat has opened up nearby. You need to get out. Right now.”

Lamaan frowns in confusion. “Planar matters are not my forte, but I do know that you can’t get a portal to Xoriat.”

“Right,” says Nameless dryly. “And you can’t get a magical wasteland where one of the Five Nations used to be.” He looks around. “Oh, wait.”

Lamaan reddens, but admits, “Point taken. You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. If you want to live, get out.”

“All right. We’ve got most of what we need to know. Thank you.” 

While Lamaan begins to gather the other members of the expedition together, the Angels leave. As soon as they are out of sight of the camp, they circle around so that Six can ride to the warforged, who are watching the camp from some nearby hills. When he reaches them, he quickly explains to Preacher what has occurred and why they need to leave.

Preacher, who seems to know nothing about Xoriat, takes some persuasion but finally agrees to remove his people from the area. “We will not leave the Mournland,” he says, “But we will consider temporarily leaving the camp. I will send scouts to check on what you have said.”

“All right,” says Six, “But tell them to be very careful. And best of luck. I hope to meet you again.” As he rides away, he wonders whether that will actually occur or not.


* Yes, Rackhir is stealing from LotR. Imitation, flattery, and all that jazz.

** At the end of that round, the PCs had taken the following effects – Gareth (50 hp damage, telekinetically grappled by 1), Six (20 hp damage, telekinetically grappled by 1, panicked for 5 rounds and cowering), and Nameless (18 hp damage, 5 pts Cha damage, 5 pts Str damage, 7 pts Con damage, 4 pts Dex damage). If it weren’t for the piles of protections on Gareth and Six, they’d have been dead.


----------



## shilsen

A few hours later, the Angels are back in Flamekeep with Jaela Daran. After they explain to the Keeper about the portal and everything that they experienced, she nods gravely and says, “That is worrying, but not surprising. There will be more opening soon, I’m sure.” The little girl sighs. “The war with Xoriat is upon us. Now we must deal with it as best we can. To that end, I have spoken to the monarchs of the remaining nations. We are due to meet five days later. Will you be there?”

“Certainly.”

“Good. You have had much to do with these events, and I would like your voices to be heard there. The meeting will occur at Thronehold.” She indicates a high window to the east. Though the Angels cannot see through it, they recall the first view they had of Flamekeep and the glimpsing of the island castle in the distance, from which the kings and queens of Galifar had ruled before the Last War. “I chose it,” Jaela continues, “Because it is the one truly neutral place in all of Khorvaire, and the signing of the Thronehold Accords there at the end of the Last War makes it the appropriate place. And the rulers would likely not want to meet at any one other place, especially in anyone’s kingdom. Well, perhaps Boranel would, as would I, but not Aurala or Kaius. I also hope to get as many of the others who were involved in the Thronehold Accords involved, and maybe others. Oh, I have been contacted by Sora Teraza, saying that she is interested in sending a delegation from Droaam too. I am not surprised, even though I had not contacted her first or informed her of the meeting.”

“We have met her,” says Gareth, “And I’m not surprised either. We found that she is a very talented seer.”

“Just don’t let her sister show up,” says Korm, “Either of her sisters!”

Jaela smiles slightly, but her mind is clearly not on humor. “There is another reason I want you present. I do not normally leave the Cathedral, since my powers are significantly diminished when I leave here, and there is always the risk of assassination. But at this moment, the risk is certainly worth taking. And if the daelkyr and their minions want to completely destabilize Khorvaire, they would only need to kill the people who will be at this meeting. I will ensure that there is strong security, and the Deneith Throne Wardens, who have guarded Thronehold since the Last War began, will be there. And the leaders will bring their own security too. But your presence would be especially helpful in case of trouble.”

“We will be there,” says Nameless. “We are planning to go to Argonnessen and see if we can learn more about the Dimensional Seals and how to again seal Khorvaire off from Xoriat. It seems only the dragons have that knowledge, so we must go there.”

“That does seem wise. Nobody that I know of has ever returned from the land of the dragons, but then you have done many things that nobody else has. I shall contact you via _sending_ if I need to. May the Flame watch over you.”

* * *

As if the rest of the day had not been busy enough, the Angels find themselves with many more things to do, places to go, and people to meet, once they return to Sharn. When they arrive, Fett informs them that Surr’kal had stopped by to ask them to speak to Gurr’khan, who is at Carosten Park. 

They proceed there and do so, informing Gurr’khan (since Surr’kal excuses himself, claiming that he’s probably better off not knowing any more) of all that has occurred and what they have discovered. After the aged Gatekeeper spends a couple of minutes rocking back and forth and muttering to himself, to the dark amusement of Korm and Luna, he wearily asks them to accompany him to the Shadow Marches and speak to Saala. After the requisite _sending_ and reply, Nameless transports the group over a thousand miles to the east, to where the leader of the Gatekeepers awaits.

Saala, as usual, takes things more phlegmatically than Gurr’khan. After being apprised of the situation, she says that she expected something of the kind ever since she saw the giant sign in the sky. She adds some more information of her own, saying that she has received positive replies from the Eldeen Reaches regarding the war that is coming. She has traveled there to speak to the greatpine Oalian himself, who has promised the aid of the Wardens of the Wood. Saala also mentions that though the other druidic sects, such as the Ashbound, the Children of Winter and the Greensingers, are normally not particularly friendly with the Gatekeepers, she is sure they too will take up arms against such an enemy. 

Before leaving, the Angels inform her too that they are on their way to Argonnessen, and promise to contact her with whatever they learn, especially what pertains to the Seals.

Once back in Sharn again, the Angels split up to visit and talk to the various people that they need to. Nameless visits Trillia, while Gareth goes to Lalia. Nameless’ former mentor is understandably fascinated and alarmed with the news of the portal and the impending arrival of the hordes of Xoriat. Lalia is similarly interested and concerned, though more about Gareth than anything else. When he explains that he is going to see the dragons, she is more than a little surprised, pointing out that nobody has ever traveled into Argonnessen and returned. Gareth explains that there are few other options at this point, and promises to take care, before leaving her.

Six goes to Morgrave University to obtain whatever information he can about Argonnessen. He learns that the continent of the dragons is four thousand miles away. Off the north-western coast of the continent is the large island of Seren, home to the barbarian tribes of the same name. They claim to be the guardians of Argonnessen and each of the thirty or so tribes pays allegiance to a different dragon founder. The tribes are ruled by warlords, the mightiest warriors, and dragonspeakers, mystics who use wisdom and magic to guide them. While the tribes live individually, often feuding with each other, they do contribute elite warriors as a group to form the Totem Guardians, who are the defenders of Totem Beach, which is the great beach of Argonnessen, hundreds of miles long, that is closest to Seren. The barbarian tribes refuse to treat with any outsiders who do not bear dragonmarks and speak draconic, and slay any others who trespass on their lands. For example, only one Morgrave University professor has survived contact with the Seren, and that was because he had a guide with an aberrant dragonmark. The dragonmarked Houses Lyrandar, Orien and Tharashk have managed to create small trading outposts with the Seren. But while the Seren are willing to trade with those bearing dragonmarks, not even they are allowed to enter Argonnessen. Six attempts to speak to the professor who did survive meeting with the Seren, but discovers that he failed to survive the sea voyage back to Sharn. Nevertheless, he does manage to obtain a crude map of Seren, as well as a detailed enough description of a dragonmarked outpost for Nameless to be able to get them there via _greater teleport_.

Six and Luna, meanwhile, do what the Angels still joke amongst themselves is their most dangerous task, namely picking up a newspaper in Sharn without getting mugged. Naturally, the Korranberg Chronicle has large articles about some of the things the Angels are involved with. One is about the sign in the sky, which has caused serious concerns among the populace. The article confirms that is was visible from every part of Khorvaire for the few days it was in the sky. Some doomsayers are saying that it means the end of the world. The newspaper also has a report that the rulers of the Four Nations are supposed to be meeting to discuss this, so it must be very serious, though details of what they know about it is not forthcoming. A smaller article focuses on the rumor that dozens of warforged have disappeared in Sharn and in other areas. They are almost exclusively warforged employed by House Cannith. Some people are claiming that House Cannith is kidnapping warforged, but there have been reports of a couple of the warforged being found wandering far from where they were supposed to be. A Chronicle correspondent spoke to two and they claimed to have absolutely no recollection of how and why they ended up there, last remembering being at work and then finding themselves hours or days later somewhere else being questioned. There were no signs of magical charming or manipulation. House Cannith has officially released a statement that they are investigating these disappearances and nobody should be alarmed. 

Having collected all of the information that they could, the Angels proceed to get what rest they can. Except for Six, who sits through the lonely hours, trying to keep himself busy with work and worrying about what is going to happen with the warforged.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, Nameless awakes to the discovery that he can now detect seven portals in various directions. As before, he only has a direction, and no idea of distance. _Great! That makes eight, since I can’t feel the one in the Mournland from outside it!_

Once he has met the others, the alienist informs them about the discovery. After a quick breakfast, the Angels prepare themselves and Nameless transports them away.

* * *

Some four thousand miles away, a small group of people are standing and talking on a picturesque beach. Most of them are humans, half-elves and half-orcs, and many bear dragonmarks that the educated would identify as belonging to Houses Lyrandar, Orien and Tharashk. 

A dozen thatched huts on stilts stand near the group, not too far from the water, and four large longboats with carved dragon heads are pulled up near the huts. Only a few hundred feet away is a large wooden stockade, twenty feet tall and stretching nearly four hundred feet in width, made of sharpened stakes with the tops carved with remarkable accuracy to depict various dragon types. The tops of more huts are visible within. Thick jungle grows fairly close to the village, the closest trees extending their boughs over the stockade.

The peaceful scene is suddenly disturbed by startled exclamations as five people appear in mid-air about a hundred feet offshore and plummet into the water. At least four of them do, one – a cloaked and hooded individual carrying a staff – managing to catch himself and float above the water. Seconds later, another bobs to the surface. This one, a disproportionately muscled orc, suddenly extends leathery wings from his back and flaps his way into the air, carrying a third of the strangers, a young female shifter. Or at least tries to, since she smacks him, twists out of his grasp, and splashes back into the water and disappears. A second later, a giant crocodile emerges where she hit the water and begins to swim to shore. The two fliers float forward above her. There is no sign of the other two strangers.

“What the - ?” The watchers exchange worried glances and hurriedly back away from the water, a couple of them rushing to the huts and emerging with weapons.

The three strangers land on the shore, the crocodile clambering out of the water and transforming back into the shifter, who shakes herself vigorously like a dog and begins to berate the hooded man for some reason. The orc simply stands there and grins at the two, before waving cheerfully at the assembled people. After a few seconds, Kamin d’Tharashk steps forward and asks wonderingly, “Who in Dolurrh _are_ you people?”

“Ah!” says the hooded man, pushing it back enough to reveal most of his face, though his forehead remains hooded. He is of indeterminate age, with a face that seems to be in its thirties, but eyes that seem decades older. His complexion is sallow and faintly greenish, but it is those eyes again which are strangest. His gaze seems to focus a few inches behind the eyes of anyone he looks at, as if he were looking into their mind – and, from the expression and tone, was fairly disappointed at what he found. The harsh, rasping, voice doesn’t help matters. “So you don’t get the Korranberg Chronicle here then?”

“Err … what?”

“We’re the Guardian Angels, from Sharn,” says the orc. He turns as the other two new arrivals finally emerge, both having walked out of the water as if they had no need to breathe. Which is understandable for the burly warforged but not the handsome human warrior beside him, whose shining plate-mail armor is covered with symbols of the Silver Flame. “Hey, Gareth!” the orc turns to call to him, “These guys haven’t heard of you!”

“As my companion said,” continues the hooded man, “We _teleport_ed here from Sharn and…”

“We’re well beyond range of _teleport_,” points out Juas d’Orien.

“Not of _greater teleport_,” says the speaker, with a hint of a smirk. “We’re going to Argonnessen, so if you could give us directions…”

“What? Nobody goes to Argonnessen! You’re dead if you try!”

The man sighs. “Can any of you use a _detect magic_?”

“What?”

“Someone just cast a _detect magic_, please!”

One of the artificers present shrugs, does so, and then takes a quick step back, reflexively raising a hand as literally dozens of auras fill his sight. “They’re magical. Very!”

“Yes, we are. And we can handle ourselves. Now if you could just give us …”

At this point, frenzied chanting and ominous drumbeats erupt from beyond the stockade wall. Dozens of wooden pikes appear above the wall, each bearing a human skeleton and being shaken vigorously. “The Seren must have seen you arrive,” explains Kamin. “They’ll be out to talk to you right now.”

As he is speaking, a gate in the stockade opens and about twenty armed barbarians emerge, led by a completely cloaked figure. The leader is hidden from sight beneath a scaled veil that covers its head and trails all the way to the ground, seemingly made of many different dragon scales. Kamin hurriedly adds, “That’s Hartha, the Shroud of Scales. She talks to outsiders. I hope you folks have a dragonmark between you.” Then he and the others quickly back away towards the nearby huts, many of them climbing into them, though they remain at the doors and windows to watch.

As the Seren walk up to the strangers, the warrior with the Silver Flame-marked armor removes his helmet, clearly revealing the partly-hidden dragonmark that climbs up the side of his neck. Hartha stops and begins to speak to the strangers, asking what they want. The hooded man begins to explain that they are travelers and that they have just arrived here and mean no harm, when the shifter interrupts. “Just get the directions and let’s go!”

“Yeah,” says the orc, before grinning broadly at the Seren. “Don’t worry – we’re not here to kill the dragons.” 

There is pin-drop silence for a moment, and then every Seren focuses on the orc. “What?” The hooded man sighs and raises a hand to his face. The warforged and the human warrior, evidently not able to understand draconic, ask simultaneously, “What did he say?”

“What he said,” puts in the shifter. “We’re just here to talk to the dragons.”

“Korm! Luna!” grits the hooded man from between clenched teeth, but it is drowned out by the angry growls of the Seren, as they raise their weapons. “Nobody may go to Argonnessen!” Hartha says loudly. “It is forbidden!”

Despite being outnumbered four to one, the strangers seem completely unconcerned. “You don’t really have a choice in the matter,” explains the shifter. “So you might as well tell us how to get there before I get upset.” 

Hartha speaks again, her voice a low growl. “It is forbidden!”

“Yeah, yeah – forbidden schmorbidden! We’re going there now. There’s nothing you can do. We’re going to see the dragons.” 

That does it. “Kill them all!” shrieks Hartha, and the Seren surge forward, shouting and slashing. 

“Damn it!” shouts the hooded man, casting a _solid fog_ around them to keep the bulk of the Seren away. “Everybody touch me!” 

The shifter, warforged and human promptly do so, but the orc delays, drawing his sword with a loud cry and hammering one of the onrushing barbarians with a blow that not only sends him flying off his feet but takes down the man behind him. The orc grins and then steps back, fending off six attackers at once and ignoring a battleaxe that gashes his forearm, grumbling loudly, “Awww! I was just having fun!”

He grasps the hooded man’s arm and the latter speak an arcane word. Instantly, the strangers are gone, leaving only an empty beach and twenty confused barbarians.

Kamin looks at the others. “Again – who in Dolurrh were those people?!”

* * *

Some eight hundred feet away, hidden by the curve of the forest, the Angels appear a few feet above the beach and drop to the sand. “Dammit!” Nameless says irritably, “I can’t take you idiots _anywhere!_”

Korm ignores him, fingering the gash in his arm. “That was a good hit. And why’d you make us leave? It could have been a good workout.”

“We are _not_ here to fight random barbarian tribes. We need to get to Argonnessen, and from what little I know of the place, you’re likely to run into enough chances to work out there.”

“Anyway,” persists Korm, “What’s the big deal? You said the damn continent is almost as big as Khorvaire. We fly thataway and we can’t miss it.”

“Even so, that was unnecessary. But fine, let’s mount up and go.”

*. . .*

Traveling at the fastest speed that Nameless’ _steed_ is capable of, the Angels race across the sky, and soon the continent of Argonnessen rises to fill the horizon before them. As they ride towards Totem Beach, they spot the legendary monoliths of Argonnessen, huge stone dragon heads rising from the water along the length of the beach. Each stretches at least a hundred feet above the water and some thrice that height, with every species of dragon represented and every age from mature adulthood up to the most ancient of great wyrms. 

As the Angels near the beach, which stretches hundreds of miles in length along the north-western edge of the continent, they spot smoke from a couple of campfires, each near a large wooden tower. Barbarian warriors pour out of them and run towards the approaching intruders, screaming battle-cries. “Those must be the Totem Guardians,” says Nameless. “No need to get near them.”

“You’re no fun!” says Korm, but he doesn’t argue. The magical mounts swiftly change direction and angle upwards and away. 

There is little the Totem Guardians can do, and though one of the shamans hurls an abortive _fireball_, it explodes far below the Angels. In seconds they are left far behind. A mile beyond the beach is an incredibly thick forest which abuts on steepling cliffs about five thousand feet high, and the Angels reach it in just over a minute. 

“This, on the other hand, is!” shouts Korm, as the riders near the cliffs. He sends his _stag_ directly at the cliffs and then, at the last moment, gives a command. The magical mount switches direction instantly and flies directly upwards. “Woohoo!” shouts the Gatekeeper. Luna promptly follows suit, grinning in glee, while the other three make a slightly less precipitous ascent.

Reaching the top of the precipice, the Angels see that the land beyond quickly descends two thousand feet, the cliffs forming a giant wall, which explains why they are called the Great Barrier. Beyond the Great Barrier is a huge expanse of broken, rocky land. Though it is dotted with a few small forests and areas are covered in scrub-like vegetation, it looks significantly inhospitable.

There are few obvious signs of life, the most obvious ones being a series of widely separated towers about a dozen miles away. There are small figures circling in the air above them, clearly identifiable as dragons, and many more tiny figures in the air as far as the eye can see, which are also presumably draconic.

Six calls to the others at this point and says, “We are very visible while flying. I think we should descend and ride along the ground for the towers.” After a little discussion, the Angels agree and proceed to do so, riding along the ground at a much more sedate pace, discussing what they might encounter. 

Korm turns and looks at Nameless. “I know nobody’s that well informed about Argonnessen, but you know about the weirdest things. How friendly – or unfriendly – do you think the dragons we meet will be?” He sees Nameless open his mouth to answer and then the alienist’s eyes go wide, focusing on a spot some distance beyond the Gatekeeper.

Korm spins around, realizing a second too late that he hears a giant whooshing sound. The source appears a split second later, but the Gatekeeper has no eyes for the huge body, a full fifty feet from nose to tail-tip, or the great wings, nearly one and a half times that length from tip to tip, even though they fill his entire vision. He does notice the two giant horns sweeping back above its head and the smaller horns at the chin and atop the beaked snout, and even more the little flames dancing in the nostrils and in the eye sockets around the flame-red orbs. But what his gaze is instantly drawn to are the rows of long curved fangs, a second before they snap shut around his torso.

Less than a second later,  Six gets a perfect view of exactly the same thing, as a second dragon, just as red and massively huge as the first, snaps him up neatly in mid-flight.


----------



## carborundum

Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!


----------



## Rackhir

carborundum said:
			
		

> Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!




As stress and nervous tension are now serious problems in all parts of the galaxy, it will now be revealed that all of the GA will in fact survive this encounter with only a bruised upper arm and that the only fatalities will be a bowl of petunias and a very surprised sperm whale. However in an attempt to preserve a modicum of drama, it will not be revealed who's upper arm is bruised.


----------



## Atlatl Jones

shilsen said:
			
		

> And all because Corven's player said, "Can I defuse and get this off? I rolled a X," and I thought "Nice roll," and said, "Sure, you can."



You see Avi?  Even when I roll well, I roll badly.


----------



## carborundum

Rackhir said:
			
		

> ... it will not be revealed who's upper arm is bruised.




You fiend! I can't stand it!


----------



## shilsen

Atlatl Jones said:
			
		

> You see Avi?  Even when I roll well, I roll badly.



 Some things never change.



			
				carborundum said:
			
		

> You fiend! I can't stand it!




Would it help if I mentioned that what Rackhir (I should get you started on a Hitch-Hiker's Guide to Argonnessen) describes as bruising of an upper arm involved someone taking 120 pts of damage from one full attack? Probably not.

But not to worry. The next update should be here in just a few days. Until then, here are some highlights for you:

* Korm grapples an adult red dragon - and wins!

* Nameless stops the aforementioned red dragon from speeding.

* Gareth discovers a strange fetish for giant, flying lizards.

* Luna attacks a great wyrm - with words. 

* Six thinks his companions are idiots. Well, okay - Six thinks his companions are idiots in every session.

Watch this space!


----------



## carborundum

Oh, is that all? That's all right then


----------



## shilsen

This is a very interesting day for Shalash and Ofarrn. The twin brothers are doing what they do on most afternoons, lazily riding the thermals high above the Vast. It is Shalash who first spots the intruders flashing over the edge of the precipice more than a dozen miles away, which descends to Totem Beach. Making a slow roll, he cranes his serpentine neck to look in their direction, before signaling to Ofarrn. “Humans – I think! And from beyond the Great Barrier. Let’s have some fun.”

“What are they riding?” says Ofarrn, frowning at the sight. “They’re almost as fast as us.”

“Almost,” scoffs Shalash. “We can catch them easily enough.” As he speaks, he sees the intruders descending to the ground, and grins a draconic smile. “Even better! Now come on. You know the law about intruders. Time for them to learn this is Argonnessen.”

“I assume they already know,” says Ofarrn, rolling his eye, but he adds, “Very well. But let us do this intelligently. Put up a few protections. And go _invisible_.” Knowing his twin, he quickly adds, “It’ll be an even bigger surprise for them.”

“All right,” says Shalash and speaks a string of words. The sun flashes one last time on the red scales of his flank and then he disappears from view. Ofarrn, naturally, can still sense exactly where he is, and he follows suit, flying parallel to and fifty feet from his brother.

“Let’s do this.” Both dragons raise and bring down their wings simultaneously, with a sense of urgency which is far from their lazy efforts of the preceding moments. As they shoot forward and downwards, their angle of descent increases their speed to tremendous levels, and in seconds they are traveling at nearly a hundred miles an hour. Even when they switch to horizontal flight, only fifty feet above the ground of the Vast, they are covering a hundred feet a second. Their targets, riding unwarily on the strange mounts, have absolutely no idea what is coming their way until it is too late.

Having studied the riders carefully, Ofarrn picks the muscular orc riding slightly to the right of the group, considering that his lack of armor makes him a preferable target. The more reckless Shalash goes after a figure on the opposite side which is apparently a construct of some kind, its body constructed of metal and wood and stone, curious to discover what it is, even if it be by the expedient of rending it apart.

Completely aware of each other’s unseen presence, the brothers soar down together, only appearing as they snap up their prey. Shocked and surprised cries ring out behind the dragons and the creatures in their mouths struggle vainly, blood – and some strange fluid from the construct – running out of their bodies as the huge teeth clamp down. And then things get much more interesting than the brothers had planned on.

While the huge dragons are built for incredible speed, maneuverability is not their forte. As Ofarrn concentrates on slowly angling upwards, almost absent-mindedly holding the orc in his jaws, he is surprised to feel the orc shout something in an unknown language and then hurl itself sideways with unexpected strength. Though the dragon is substantially stronger than the smaller creature, he is not expecting this powerful a response, and before he can clamp his jaws shut, the orc has wriggled free*. Shock replaces surprise as the orc grabs onto one of the horns on the side of Ofarrn’s head, and then amazement, as it then proceeds to kick him – albeit with little effect – in the side of the jaw.

Shalash too feels the construct attempt to break free, but he quickly clamps down. The teeth scrape against the creature’s metal body for a moment and then suddenly there is no resistance. Almost biting his own tongue in reaction and surprise, Shalash cranes his neck around. Fifty feet behind him, a swirl of shadows resolves itself into the construct, which rapidly retreats behind its allies. _Io’s teeth!_ With an angry growl, Shalash bends his back in mid-flight, raises both wings and beats them like giant vertical sails, attempting to stop his forward motion.

Ofarrn doesn’t have to make the same decision. One of the men behind him casts a spell, and even though the accents are strange and some of the words used are a bastardized form of draconic, it is clear to the dragon what the spell is. And if it were not, the invisible barrier which he detects springing up before him would make it clear. _Wall of …_. Before he can complete the thought, Ofarrn smashes head-first into the _wall of force_, the impact causing the huge dragon to flatten painfully against it, before toppling over backwards. The grunt of pain from the orc at the impact doesn’t ameliorate Ofarrn’s mood at the indignity and he rises, spitting out a broken tooth and snarling with rising fury. 

And these strangely resilient intruders are not done yet. The same spellcaster casts another swift spell, stripping away many of Ofarrn’s protections, while the woman riding near him does the same to Shalash. The latter snarls angrily and calls to his brother, “No more games!” Shalash turns in mid-air, the flapping of his giant wings not only keeping him hovering but raising a cloud of dust which hides him from the view of the enemies. And though it hides them from him too, it provides no protection from the blast of ravening flame that shoots out of the cloud.  

Ofarrn, well outside the cloud himself, sees the woman and an armored man – whose only action thus far has been to shout something in a strange language and then to start glowing brightly – scorched by the flames, but both remain on their feet. The construct simply dodges the blast, while the male arcanist is untouched, some magical protection rendering him immune. A small frisson of worry begins appears in Ofarrn’s mind, but it is submerged under anger at the indignity of his encounter with the _wall_. Unlike his brother, he has a target close at hand, and rather than breathing flame, he leaps upon the orc before the smaller creature can recover from the fall.

A whirlwind of fangs, claws, and wings envelops the orc, ripping flesh to the bone, sending blood spraying across the ground. But to the attacker’s surprise, the creature somehow remains upright. With a frustrated snarl, Ofarrn pivots and brings his tail down like a giant sledgehammer, hammering the orc to the ground with the crunch of breaking bones. But again, there is a surprise for the dragons. Even as the apparent corpse drops, a yellow-green bubble of force appears to envelop it.

Shalash stares, recognizing the effect. _A child of Eberron?_ But before he can say or do anything, more magical effects appear, these ones summoned by the arcanist and much more offensive than the _cocoon_. A huge earth elemental appears on either side of the dragon, each almost as large as him, giant fists swinging in with painful effect. 

Another giant elemental, summoned by the woman, appears beside Ofarrn. As it does so, the glowing human flies forward into the cloud of dust raised by the hovering dragon’s wings, seemingly propelled by the falchion in his hands. As he reaches Ofarrn, the elemental lands a crunching blow to the dragon’s jaw. Taking advantage of the distraction, the human cries something and strikes. Flames of silvery light flash along the blade and it bites deep into Ofarrn’s shoulder.

The dragon roars and turns to his smaller antagonist. As the human lands, Ofarrn’s tremendous weight bears him to the ground. A mighty forelimb pins him down, and another lands on his outstretched right arm, huge claws piercing through the flesh and into the ground beneath. As he screams, held helpless by the dragon, Ofarrn’s neck snakes down and his fangs slash deep. The man screams again and then goes limp. For a second, Ofarrn thinks he is a corpse, but to his surprise, the body twitches faintly.**

Across the battlefield, Shalash shouts, “Ofarrn! We’re in trouble!” His brother quickly glances his way, seeing the blood on his lips and the broken and bloodied scales marring his sleek sides. Ofarrn snarls angrily, but he feels the sting of his own wounds too, especially as more spells strike him and his brother, even as the giant elementals continue to attack. He realizes this is a battle they cannot win. With a frustrated growl, he places a claw at the throat of the unconscious human beneath him and shouts to the other intruders, “Call off your creatures or this one dies!”

There is a second of anticipation, and then the arcanist commands the elementals to stop, while the woman does the same. Then the former says, in passable draconic, “We never wanted to fight you in the first place! Why did you attack us?”

Shalash carefully backs away from the elemental and towards his brother. “You are in Argonnessen. Intruders are forbidden.”

“We know, but we’re here for a good reason,” says the woman. “Do you know anything about seals?”

“Seals?”

“Yeah, dimensional seals. You guys know about that, right?”

“What?”

“Luna, stop confusing the dragons!” says the orc, having emerged completely healed from the _cocoon_ and now going over to the unconscious human.

* * *

Gareth opens his eyes, feeling the after-glow of Korm’s _heal_ as it knits his ravaged body back together. “Did we win?”

“Kinda. They used you to talk us out of killing them.” Korm helps Gareth to his feet. “And now Luna’s trying to …”

A short distance behind him, Luna is _heal_ing one of their recent foes and saying, “You’re a handsome red dragon!”

“….actually, I don’t want to know what she’s doing.”

“We have company,” warns Six, as a large blue dragon, smaller than the two reds, flies down. Spread out over the space of a mile behind it are half a dozen more dragons of various colors and sizes. As they arrive and land one by one, greeting each other, the Angels see there seems to be a complicated set of hierarchies and rank among them. 

“What is going on here?” asks a huge green dragon. “Who are these intruders?”

“We come in peace,” says Nameless, and Korm cheerfully adds, “Yeah, don’t worry. We’re not here to kill you.” Six who has just used a scroll so that he can understand draconic, since none of the dragons speak the common tongue, says quietly, “Please stop trying to be helpful, Korm.”

Ignoring the Angels, some of the dragons begin to argue amongst each other about what to do with them. Another huge dragon, this one a bronze, suggests, “Why don’t we just eat them and be done with it?” The green looks at him with distaste. “Lendys’ Curse! You’ll eat anything!”

“No,” says the dragon who introduced himself as Shalash, “Nobody touches them. We said we’d spare them. Bruntutalephion will decide.”

“Actually, it wasn’t you sparing u…,” begins Korm, before Six slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Who’s Bruntu… Brunta …,” Luna asks.

“Bruntutalephion, the lord of our dominion,” says Ofarrn. “Him!”

The druid turns and looks up as the largest creature that she has ever seen drops out of the sky. The bronze dragon is absolutely gargantuan, over seventy-five feet from nose to tail-tip, with as large a wingspan. As it lands nearby, the ground actually shakes. The other dragons step back and all incline and lower their heads.

“Explain,” says the giant dragon.

Shalash and Ofarrn quickly explain what happened. The bronze listens silently and then looks at the Angels. “Why are you here?”

“We just need you to tell us how to make these Seals,” says Nameless.

The dragon looks at him for a couple of seconds and then says, “This needs more examination. Follow us.” He spreads his giant wings and takes to the air, the other dragons following one by one. The Angels quickly mount up and follow. 

The strange cavalcade heads towards the towers in the distance. The gargantuan bronze named Bruntutalephion takes the lead, with the other dragons forming a rough V-shape with him at the apex, and the Angels on their _phantom stag_s and _steed_ in the center. It's evident that the dragons can actually surpass the magical mounts in speed, though not in maneuverability, and they have no problem keeping up.

As the miles roll away beneath them, the Angels now see more and more dragons. Besides the collection of giant towers they saw in the distance, there are many smaller ones dotted around the area, and dragons sit, walk and fly around them. Others soar lazily through the air, some so high that they are only glimpsed as they appear and disappear among the clouds. The newcomers and their escort draw the attention of many, who fly in their direction, though they keep a healthy distance and do not get in the way. Bruntutalephion ignores the onlookers and flies on, and many of the smaller dragons fall away after a while. Some of the larger ones remain, and others rise to watch ahead of them, so by the time the group nears the line of towers, there are nearly thirty dragons in their vicinity.

Six glances at Gareth, who is smiling from ear to ear. “Why so happy?”

“I’m not really sure,” says Gareth, “But I just love this! Who do we know who has flown with an escort of dragons?” He stares at the giant bodies moving through the air around them with an expression which combines both greed and lust. “They’re so attractive! I’ve heard of dragonscale armor being incredibly beautiful, and now I can see why that would be. I wonder if I could obtain some here.”

Korm, riding right behind him, says, “Just do me a favor and let me know when you’re about to ask a dragon if you can skin his cousin for a suit. Oh, and remind me to tell Lalia about your giant flying lizard fetish.”

The dragons, none of which seem to understand the common tongue the Angels speak, ignore their discussion. When they are just under a mile away, Bruntutalephion suddenly accelerates incredibly, both wings cracking down with the sound of a small thunderclap. The giant body arrows forward, leaving the Angels and their escorts behind, and in barely twenty seconds he is at the central and tallest of the towers. He hovers clumsily and then lands on the roof. Having done so, he places a clawed hand on a large orb embedded in the stone and then speaks. His voice, magically enhanced, booms across the area, easily heard more than a mile away. *“All of you – return to your homes or your work! We have intruders that I need to speak to! You shall be informed afterwards!”*

The dragons escorting the adventurers promptly veer away, as do the others who had been following. Bruntutalephion raises a claw in the direction of the Angels and booms, *“You - follow me!”* He casts a _fly_ spell and uses it to drop adroitly off the roof, floating downwards until he reaches the third window from the top. He flies through it and into the chamber beyond.

When the Angels follow, they find themselves in a huge chamber, over eighty feet high and stretching nearly two hundred feet across. It is mostly bare, except for a strange series of stone structures which form most of a circle around the room. Though they vary in length from twenty feet to over fifty, each of them has a large flat area with four flowing grooves around the sides. One end of each structure rises up to a curved peak, also with a large groove in it, with each of the raised ends closer to the inside of the circle, making them look like a circle of extremely large stone seats with their backs to each other. The mostly featureless walls of the room have a few large dragonshards embedded in them, Nameless’ _arcane sight_ revealing that most are heavily enchanted.

Bruntutalephion says, “Dismiss those creatures and seat yourselves,” as he strolls across to the largest of the stone structures. He steps over it so that he straddles it and then lowers himself into it. It instantly becomes clear how the seat works, allowing a dragon of the appropriate size to place its thick body in the flatter section, its legs resting in the grooves at the side, while the raised area neatly supports the base and lower part of its neck. Unfortunately, none of them are really well-suited to people of human size.

The gargantuan bronze wriggles into a comfortable position and then turns its flexible neck to study them minutely through giant green orbs, each twice as large as an adult human’s head. “Tell me now,” he rumbles, “Why are you here?”


* Yes, Korm beat an adult red dragon (one taking only a -10, due to the Multisnatch feat) in a grapple

** Somehow, whenever Gareth does something really bold, he always goes below -10.


----------



## shilsen

Luna says, “Well, we are working on keeping the daelkyr and other aberrations from Xoriat from coming through into our world since it is no longer severed from our plane of existance.  Unfortunately, the knowledge of how to seal the portals has been lost and so we were hoping someone here might remember and be able to teach us so we could deal with this issue. We know how you’ll hate to be bothered with this kind of stuff, so rather than get directly involved we thought it might want to instruct us so we can handle it. After all, no one wants to deal with ‘The Xoriat Problem,’ but if we were better equipped to do so, perhaps you would be spared the inconvenience of having to administer direct disciplinary action. So that’s why we’re here. Can someone help us out?”

Bruntutalephion listens silently to Luna, eyes roving over the group to see their responses as she speaks. When she stops, he remains silent for a few seconds, and then says, “You presume much. How do you ‘know’ what we will hate to be bothered with? And why should we help you? When the hordes of Xoriat came to your land before, Argonnessen was untouched by them. Why should it be different now? Two of you,” the large orbs flicker over Nameless and Gareth, “Are touched by the Prophecy. Perhaps it is through Xoriat that the Prophecy shall now mark your world. Why should the dragons not watch, as we have done for the ages before your kind arose, and as we shall do when you are dust on the wind?”

Luna says, “Well, it _seems_ as if you hate to be bothered as you make it very hard to get in touch with you _and_ if you liked it, it seems like you would do it more often. So we put two and two together and concluded you prefer it that way. But I certainly could be wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time. We don’t mean any disrespect, but we are kinda in need of help that only you can provide. Perhaps the Xoriat thing won’t bother you or anything, and probably initially you won’t be the first on their list to attack – until they grow strong and establish a good foothold. Unlike you, we can’t opt out of this nightmare. If you don’t wish to help us by providing us with the information we need, well, certainly no one can make you. But we are here to put it before you. We do deem it important enough that we felt we needed to ask.”

She pauses and then continues, “By the way, what’s the prophecy? Am I in it?”

Gareth stares at Luna, his jaw almost dropping to the ground. _Wow! She is making sense! Is the world coming to an end or does she have potential?_

Waiting for her to finish speaking, he then says, “Bruntutalephion, we are greatly honored that you would even allow us this chance to speak. We know and understand that the dragons of Argonesson require their privacy and prefer neighbors that will not bother them. The neighbors you have now, for the most part, do not dare bother your realm, but it will be only a matter of time before the horrors of Xoriat destroy the nations Khorvaire.  So the question is – do you think that Xoriat will decide to stop after they destroy the other nations or will they build up their forces and come to attack your realm when they believe they can win? If they are foolish, you will most assuredly win, but win or lose, your realm will suffer losses. Unfortunately for all of us, I do not think the forces of Xoriat are foolish.” 

He pauses, and when the dragon does not yet reply, continues, “We would like to destroy the forces of Xoriat before they unleash their power upon Khorvaire and for that we need your help. We have met another of your kind before, and because of our dealings with him I believe you and your kind are willing to help, but you are worried that if you help us now we will come to you at each and every peril, no matter how inconsequential, and disrupt your privacy. I can assure you we would not be here if this was not the most dire of circumstances. It is quite literally the coming of the end of the world.”

When Gareth stops, the dragon simply looks at the others to see if they have anything to add. Taking the cue, Six asks, “Well, are you bothered? The last time the incursion happened, it was stopped. If the daelkyr lords succeeded, they would have incorporated the power of the rest of Eberron, and the assault on Argonessen would have come. After all, the daelkyr lords consider themselves artist of the biological and your august selves would be magnificent canvasses. Also, about the prophecies, some rakshasas in league with a rajah were able to alter prophetic vision with regard to us. Since such creatures have powers that rival your own, are you sure what you are perceiving is untampered with? I was also curious about the council – or whatever it’s called – I mean the group of dragons out in the world. What do they think about the invasion?”

Nameless says, “As you have observed, two of us are directly marked by your Prophecy. I'm quite certain we all figure into it somehow.” He adds wryly, “We seem to show up in everyone else’s.”

Korm chooses not to add anything and Gareth says nothing more, watching the dragon and trying to gauge its general attitude, but he might as well be staring at a rock. The giant reptilian countenance is unchanging, and the giant green orbs are expressionless. The gigantic dragon silently listens, gaze shifting unblinkingly from speaker to speaker, sometimes extending a large claw to indicate that someone should continue speaking. Finally, Bruntutalephion clears his throat with a sound like a small roll of thunder, perhaps because of the small flashes of lightning that are momentarily visible in his mouth. 

Then he says, “I see you have some education and knowledge for those outside Argonnessen, but not much. The Prophecy, for one.” His tone shifts slightly, to what probably counts as reverent for a dragon. “The _draconic_ Prophecy runs through the world and all life on it and the sky above. Some will tell you of various reasons for its source, but there is no denying its power. The Progenitor wyrms, Siberys and Eberron and Khyber, created the world, and the Prophecy is the manifestation of their will and their plan. Eventually it will run its course and then … well, until then, the dragon shall watch and record and ensure that it runs its course. The Prophecy is a living thing, growing and flowering as the world turns, and we are those who see it.” 

Bruntutalephion’s gaze shifts to Luna, flickers to Gareth and Nameless and back to her, and his mouth twists in what is presumably a smile. “You ask if you are in it. All things are in the Prophecy, though how much you matter and whether the parts that speak of you are known by any is another matter. Think not that because some of you bear the marks of the Prophecy that it makes you more important than any other. The rocks and the trees and the clouds bear the Prophecy too for eyes that can see. But does that make the rock itself more important than any other rock? No! Some in Argonnessen would see each and every one of your kind eradicated for bearing those marks. I would not. But do not presume.”

“Nor should you.” The gaze shifts to Six and the smile disappears, and there is an edge to the voice, “You mistake yourself. If some rakshasa,” and now there’s no mistake about the scorn in the tone, “Fooled you and your kind, that means little to me. The Prophecy cannot be truly marred, only used as a weapon by the vile and used to befuddle those who are not skilled enough. The Lords of Dust wish to wield it, and the Chamber wishes to seize and use it against them. Both are fools, and no, I have heard nothing from the Chamber and I do not care to. They are children playing with what they should not.”

Bruntutalephion is almost growling his words by this point, and he evidently realizes it, since he raises his head and takes another deep breath. After a couple of seconds, he looks down, this time to Gareth. “You too are mistaken. It matters little whether the forces of Xoriat are foolish or not. If Argonnessen wished, we would wipe them from the world. You say you have met another of my kind before. Look at me!” He spreads his wings to their fullest, spanning a full eighty feet from tip to tip, and stretches his neck, so that his head towers a full thirty feet above the Angels, even though he is currently sitting. “And think now what an army of dragons is. Pray now and forever that you never see the Light of Siberys in its full glory. Argonnessen broke the titans of Xen’drik, whose power far surpassed that of your people, and cast them into a ruin they will never rise from. All realms in this world survive only under our sufferance, because we will not stretch forth our claws to claim again what we once ruled. Think you that Xoriat is the first planar realm to invade Eberron? I could show you Fang Crater, where the hordes of Fernia* invaded Argonnessen, and where the Light of Siberys – with me among them – threw them back in ruin. Know you how the life-blood of a balor tastes? I do. Xoriat is not the coming of the end of the world. Perhaps that is your misfortune. Not mine.”

The dragon looks around and this time there is no mistaking its slow smile. “But you are not as unfortunate as you could be. In fact, you are so lucky that I am curious how the Prophecy works through you. You do not know where in Argonnessen you stand, do you? This is _Dja’Valarach_**. This is the proving ground of Argonnessen, where the young adults of the Thousand – the heart of our homeland – must choose to come, if they prefer not to take service in the Light of Siberys. Here they must survive for fifty years before they can return to claim a home within their flight. Life here is a deadly game, where a dragon can claim only what he can hold, and any other dragon can try to take it from him. This is the crucible where our might is forged. Those among us who are the strongest and hold significant territory are known as the dominion lords. And I am the only dominion lord, the only one of perhaps four thousand dragons in the Vast, who has his own flight of many colors, and one of the few who would not instantly treat you as sport. If you flew a hundred miles to east or west, you would find yourselves in places where fang and claw would be turned against you instantly. And not only dragons. For millennia, we have transported creatures from around the world – yes, from Khorvaire too – here to populate the Vast. The rare, the dangerous, the deadly – that is what you will find here. You will find many of your races,” he considers Six, “though perhaps not yours, here too, but I doubt they would or could aid you. If you had not entered my dominion, I think you would be dead now.”

“And so, you and your presence here intrigue and amuse me. Perhaps I shall aid you after all, though I care nothing about Xoriat, or at least give you choices which may help you. Or which may slay you. That will depend on you,” he smiles again, “And what the Prophecy has in store for you. But before I do, tell me,” he looks at Gareth, “Of the dragon you said you met before.” He lowers his neck so that the stone supports it, and waits.

Honestly awestruck at the words and the great dragon’s mighty presence, Gareth bows and says, “Your power is immense, and I believe you when you say you can wipe out any Xoriat invasion force. But is this something you want to have to do?  Xoriat will want to conquer all. And while you can destroy them, it will surely come at a cost.”

“We encountered one of your kind when we went to an island off Xen’drik.  This island possessed a dragonshard key that would allow a daelkyr to enter our realm.  The only thing that prevented this portal from opening was one of your kind. We encountered him and his body was deformed and diseased, and this was made much worse because his mind was deformed and diseased too. He was possessed and driven mad. He would have brief moments of lucidity and in those moment he gave us information and a last request.” Gareth pauses for a moment to look at his allies, tensing for a potentially rash and hostile action from them in case the dragon is displeased at what is to follow. “It was to free him of this curse before he would lose all sense of reality – causing him to release the portal and be used as a slave to the daelkyr. He asked us to slay him, and then to offer us protection against the daelkyr to drink of his blood. This is what happened. As a Paladin of the Silver Flame, I swear to you, that is not something that we wished to do – but something we had to do.”

Bruntutalephion stares at Gareth for a moment as he completes his narration and then throws back his head and emits a burst of laughter. “You slew a dragon and drank his blood? Hah! That is one of the funniest stories I have heard in a long time! Clearly not a very powerful or intelligent dragon, but amusing nevertheless!”

Gareth looks his surprise as the dragon laughs, but realizes this dragon has probably killed many other in defense of its position and probably to gain it. Pleased at the response, Six nods approvingly at Gareth and says, “He tells the truth. I have a question about another matter. We saw a giant sign in the sky a few days ago, which was visible across our land. Was it visible from here? And does it have any significance? If you did not see it, this is what it looked like.” He unrolls a parchment on which he has painted a facsimile of the sign. Then he adds, “And, if you don’t mind, since your kind did not make mine, do you know who made my type?”

At Six’s questions, the dragon pauses in his laughter and frowns. “Sign in the sky? No, I saw nothing here. But that is a prophecy mark. Each line has meaning to those trained to study them. That is not my area of expertise, but I can see a few words – ‘keys of flesh … freedom … return.’ That is all I can tell you. A true prophet and student of the Prophecy could tell you more. A prophecy mark has no meaning on its own. Only one trained to see the patterns can see it and link it to other marks they know of. They show you the possible paths that the Prophecy might take. As for who created you, I do not know. But you are a construct and not one we made, so the earliest of your type were likely made by the quori. They made many while battling the titans of Xen’drik.”

_Huh?_ The others glance at Six, assuming that he is perturbed and a bit worried at this unexpected answer. The warforged does not respond in any way or even notice the looks thrown his way, already thinking, _So the quori were instrumental in making the warforged? Why? How? Speculation – maybe the quori gave the giants the warforged so the quori could use the warforged against the giants. I need to find out what happened back then._ 

Meanwhile the dragon, seemingly losing interest in the subject, looks back to Gareth. “Tell me more of this dragon and the daelkyr. Tell me all that you can remember. All of you.” Bruntutalephion settles down to listen, asking a few questions here and there, and when the story is over, he says, “Good. That was a fine tale. And I know it is the truth, or at least you believe it to be.” He smiles at Gareth, showing giant fangs. “I would know if you lied, paladin or no. I have heard of this Silver Flame of yours. And I know of paladins. My grandfather was one. But that is not important. What matters is that you have proved amusing, so I will help you like I said. I care not for your quandary, but I can tell you of places where you might obtain aid. That is all I shall do. What you do with the information is your choice.” 

For a moment, Gareth forgets the mission in his curiosity about this new information. “Your grandfather was a paladin? Would you be willing to tell me the name of which my people would have known him by? I am most intrigued about this – I did not know a dragon had borne the blessing of paladinhood.”

Bruntutalephion frowns down at him. “You people are a strange combination of education and a lack of knowledge. A dragon and the blessing of paladinhood? Fool! Who do you think was the first paladin? Dragon paladins rode the skies and smote the rajahs thousands of millennia before your kind grasped at the concept. My grandfather never stepped on your shores! He lived and died on Argonnessen, holding back terrors that would swallow your world whole.”

_Um – okay!_ Gareth replies quickly and apologetically, “We do not know of this, but the information makes sense. And it is amazing to know that there is a common connection.  Are there still dragon paladins left?”

“Yes, of course there are dragon paladins. And no, there is _no_ common connection.” It’s fairly clear that Bruntutalephion considers the possibility mildly insulting. Evidently wanting to change the subject, he glances at Luna first and then at the group as a whole. “You say that you wish to learn how to seal the portals Xoriat’s hordes are coming through. Is that all you wish here in Argonnessen? Or is there anything else? Do you wish to gain allies, especially dragons, who will fight with you in battle? Do you want to learn more of the Chamber and their activities in your world? Do you want to learn the magic of the dragons, or gain other magic? Do you seek powerful weapons? Are you looking for wealth and treasure? Do you want to learn your position in the Prophecy? Do you wish to use the Prophecy? Tell me what is it that you truly want. And remember that I will know if you lie.”  


* Fernia, the Sea of Fire, is the closest thing the Eberron cosmology has to the elemental plane of fire.

** That’s the draconic term. In common, it roughly translates to “The Vast,” interpreted as a great void or open space.


----------



## shilsen

Shocked by the dragon’s offer, Gareth replies, “To be honest, we came here thinking that if we were to get any assistance it would be minimal, and only possible help against the forces of Xoriat. Perhaps in our dreams we, or at least I, had thought of other things – allies, training in lore of the prophecy and other history and magic, access to powerful magic items – but I would never have dared to ask for such things as they are most assuredly beneath you and definitely not the reason why we are here.  Anything you are willing to provide would be accepted with great thanks and we would be indebted to you."

Luna adds enthusiastically, “Yeah! Well, that is all we came seeking – the knowledge of how to make the seals – but we hadn’t thought that any of the other stuff was to be had. If we had powerful allies such as yourselves to fight with us, that would be so super awesome! And now that you mention it, treasure is always good if it can be got! It’s all very nice saving the world and stuff, but in the end, you still have to earn a living! And soon I’ll have kids to support!” The others roll their eyes and Korm almost stuffs his fist in his mouth to stop his laughter as Luna hits her stride, growing progressively more animated and excited. “Anyway, the quori made the warforged, huh? So how did that dragonmarked house come to be the makers? Do you think the warforged would make a good sea-faring free nation? ‘Cause I really do. I mean they don’t breathe or sleep, so I think they’d be great sailors. And super pirates! Oh, and how come shifters can’t have a nice dragonmark too and fly airships? Can anything be done about that?”

As Luna asks her questions, the changes in the dragon’s expression are fascinating to watch. Even though it lacks eyebrows, his brows steeple and meet above the great eyes. After a silence of a few seconds, the huge jaws open, then close, and then open again. Finally, Bruntutalephion says only one word – “What?!” Apparently not even an millennia-old dragon is immune to Luna’s mind-affecting powers. 

Luckily for Bruntutalephion’s continued sanity, Six has some questions too. The warforged says, “All the things you have mentioned are quite attractive. Our major concern is to find ways of dealing with the coming daelkyr lords, so anything in that regard is appreciated. I am personally looking for the true history of my kind. A point of confusion for me is that major events in the past and involving dragons have blended together, so someone who could straighten out the stories would be helpful. Are the titans you spoke of the giants or someone else? Ultimately I would like to see a sovereign nation, away from most peoples, where my kind can develop their own sensibilities. I also want to free myself of the spell a powerful wizard, Mordain, put on us. I could go on about my various goals but I don’t want to bore you. But I am curious, why did you suspect we might lie or want to lie to you?”

The dragon turns to him with an almost palpable sense of relief. “Yes, the titans are the giants of Xen’drik. I cannot tell you of your other issues, but as for the honesty, I have little experience with your people from beyond Argonnessen, and since you are here to obtain something, you might try to lie to achieve it.”

Bruntutalephion continues, speaking just a little quickly to ensure that Luna doesn’t get a chance to ask anything else, “And I was not offering you magic or allies or anything else. I told you I would give you information. I simply wished to know what you wish, so that I can tell you where you might go.” The dragon extends a claw, pointing in various directions as he continues to speak. “If you fly southeast from here for three days, passing Fang Crater – a large pit hundreds of miles across and extending deep into the earth – you will come to a long thin gulf where the ocean extends into Argonnessen. Beyond that is the land of the Tapestry, the home base of the Chamber. You may obtain aid there. Or you might not. These are older dragons, who have learned the wisdom of dwelling here in Argonnessen rather than gallivanting abroad, but they are all more interested than most of us in working – or interfering – with the course of the Prophecy. So perhaps they will care for your problem.” 

He points in another direction. “If you fly directly south, all the way across the Vast, you will come to Io’lokar, the City of Knowledge. It is the only city in Argonnessen, where people of the lesser races dwell, and a font of great power and knowledge. I know little of the place, but I know that though they lack the knowledge and magic of dragonkind, the Io’lokari are great warriors and powerful spellcasters. They have fought off attacks by rogue dragons from the Vast many times. They are less likely to know of the type of magic you wish, but perhaps they will aid you since you are of their kind.”

Bruntutalephion looks around at the Angels and his voice drops slightly, at least by draconic standards. “And there are other options, depending on what you dare. Also within the Vast lies Khesavuthir, the Black Well. It is a location that is legendary even in Argonnessen, and even our people have forgotten why it was first created. Rumor says that it is a great source for lost lore and great magic – and madness. Tales say it was created by a cult of dragons who interpreted and sought to shape the Prophecy in ways later forbidden by the Chamber, who died out but left their lore behind. And one tale says that Vvaraak visited Khesavuthir and took knowledge from there with her to your world. I do not know if that story is true, but one thing that I do know of Vvaraak is where what remains of her original flight is found. A thousand years after she left, her descendant Varstaryinax became one of the guardians of Tiamat’s prison.” His tone takes on a respectful tinge. “The guardians of the Pit of Five Sorrows, where Tiamat lies bound, are executed at the end of their duties, since her whispering eventually taints their minds. All who accept the duty know the end, but they do so nevertheless for the good of Argonnessen, and their deaths bring honor to their flights. Only Varstaryinax,” and here the tone changes swiftly to scorn, “Fled at the end of his term of duty, too afraid to face the death he should have accepted.”

“Partly in shame and partly in solidarity, many members of his flight fled into exile as well, into an area of the Vast known as the Shadowland. There they built a tower, known as the Burning Tower, and what remains of them – as far as I know – still dwell there today. The children of Varstaryinax, I would think, are certain to be unfriendly, but they are also very likely to have the same lore that Vvaraak once knew. Of course, the Conclave of Argonnessen certainly has that knowledge, as do the loredrakes of the Light of Siberys, and some among those who dwell in the Tapestry. But whether any will share them with you is another matter.”

The dragon smiles with an evident combination of amusement and superiority. “As I have said before, whatever you choose, I think you will die. But I give you this information nevertheless, to do with as you will. Do you have any questions?” The large eyes flicker quickly to Luna and back again. 

Six thinks, _Hmm – Io’lokar. Maybe we could buy a house. It’s probably better that Sharn._ He asks, “Are there any special requirements to enter and live in the city?”

“Not that I know of. I believe they welcome all races, though dragons do not dwell there permanently. All races except yuan-ti and half-dragons.” Bruntutalephion’s tone when he says ‘half-dragon’ is that of someone using a particularly foul insult.

Six nods. “Once we leave here, could we return without a major battle ensuing?”

“Here? You mean to my dominion? I cannot say. Some members of my flight are young and impetuous, and they may attack you as trespassers. And I have many other things to do. I may have time for you on another visit, or I may not. But even if you come here again, do not enter my tower without my permission. If you do so, you will die.”

“I suspected as much,” says Six. “Do you have attendants or household staff? If not, would you want to get some to handle the daily chores?”

“Are you trying to set up a warforged maid service?” asks Korm.

“Just an idea,” says Six, before Bruntutalephion replies, “I do not know what you mean, but – NO!”

Gareth quickly puts in, “Thank you for all of the information you have provided us, and your protection while in your dominion. We will not forget your kindness, and if there is ever a chance that you need something of us, please do not hesitate to ask.” He pauses and then says, hesitantly, “If it is not too much to ask would you give us one last piece of information? Which of the areas do you recommend that we start at? Meaning, which area is most likely to present us with the least resistance? While all of these places may be dangerous, presumably they differ in their level of danger.”

The dragon shrugs massively. “I make no recommendations. You might find what you seek at any of those places and you might find it at none. You might leave Argonnessen with what you want or you might die here. Only the Prophecy knows. So any recommendation, even if I cared to make one, would be meaningless.”

He shrugs again. “But as for danger, that I can tell you. Io’lokar would be by far the least dangerous. After that, the safest would be the Tapestry. The other two would be the most dangerous. I know not what would be deadlier, but I suspect Khesavuthir would be. The children of Varstaryinax guard the Burning Tower aganst all interlopers and if you went there you would face many, perhaps dozens, of black dragon warriors. But even I know not what lies in the darkness of Khesavuthir. It could be that it is deserted, that all you would need to do is cross the Shadowland and locate the Black Well. But I think not. I know of dragons, mighty dragons – though admittedly none of my puissance – who disappeared into the Shadowland in search of Khesavuthir. Did the Shadowland claim them? Perhaps. But I think something lurks at the Black Well, guarding what lore and treasure is there and slaying whatever comes to despoil it." He smiles, just a little viciously. “If you find it, be sure to tell me.”

Six asks, “We shall do so. If I may ask, Bruntutalephion, have you ever seen a god?”

The dragon lifts its head a little further and looks at him for a moment, before replying, “You creatures ask the strangest of questions. The gods do not walk among us. The Progenitors make up the world beneath and the ring of Siberys that surrounds it, the Dragon Gods watch over us from the sky, and the Sovereigns … well, it is not something you will understand.” He stretches his neck, gazing out of the window at the darkening sky beyond.

“Thank you,” says Six. “I was simply wondering, since your experience clearly far extends ours.” Then he adds carefully, not wanting to end the conversation before they have obtained as much information as they can, “We know something about dragons but not that much. For example, we have heard of the destruction of the giants of Xen’drik by your people. Our histories say that it was because they were going to use the same magic that they used against Dal Quor and it might have destroyed Eberron, but I was not sure if that’s accurate or not.”

Bruntutalephion remains silent for a few seconds and then says, his tone heavy, “That is correct. And there is something you should know. The Conclave called the event _kurash Ourelonastrix_ – Aureon’s Folly* – and forbade any flight from sharing the secrets of Argonnessen with lesser beings. There is a reason that Vvaraak’s action is called Vvaraak’s Betrayal. So I give you this warning – think carefully what you ask of my people. And assume nothing.”

The dragon falls silent, the light in its huge eyes dimming for a few moments, and then emits a deep, rumbling breath. “I have told you enough. This has been amusing, but now you must leave. Is there anything else? Make it quick.”

Nameless, who has remained silent for the most part, says, “We are indebted to you for your patience and all this information, Bruntutalephion. So that we do not have to bother you again, could you please provide us with a description of the places you mentioned? Then we could simply _teleport_ there.”

“Very well,” says the dragon. “I cannot describe either Khesavuthir or the Burning Tower, since I have seen neither, but I can describe locations close to them. Or show you. A description would take too long and be too imprecise. Do not resist.” He casts a spell and closes his eyes. Nameless’ promptly widen as he feels the dragon communicate with him telepathically, causing a number of images to flash through the alienist’s head. Then Bruntutalephion opens his eyes and speaks a couple of words, ending the contact. 

“And now you know what you need,” he says, before looking around at the Angels. His expression says clearly that he is waiting for them to depart. 

Six turns to the others, “We need to go to the city to establish a base camp. Our answer probably lies in the other areas, but some of you need sleep. Just getting a good look at the place should be sufficient, but having a safe location there we can travel in and out of would be better. Also we can find proper trees so Nameless isn’t the only one who can transport us there. From there we can _teleport_ to other places.”

Gareth nods and says, “Thank you for your help” to the dragon, before turning to Nameless. “Let’s _teleport_ to…”

“I know where,” says Nameless shortly, gesturing for the others to join him. When they do, he nods at Bruntutalephion, who is watching them expressionlessly, and then transports them away.


* Aureon is the god of knowledge and magic


----------



## carborundum

Oh, it's like that part of Jaws where you just hear the music and you know the blood is coming 

Have you any tips for writing these updates? When I'm doing mine I get bogged down in what everyone did every round and lose the flow a bit. (It's all in Dutch or I'd post it.)


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## Furby076

R.I.P.

Would anyone like to say a eulogy?


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## Rackhir

carborundum said:
			
		

> Have you any tips for writing these updates? When I'm doing mine I get bogged down in what everyone did every round and lose the flow a bit. (It's all in Dutch or I'd post it.)




1) Don't bother recording what everyone did every round. Just try to give a feel of the flow of combat. 

If something notable happened (a crit, particularly damaging series of attacks, a spell that changed the course of combat, etc...) note that. Spells are a bit easier since if someone knows what the spell does it, just using the name, effectively conveys a lot of what it does. Be descriptive and flavorful in what you write. If you can do that well it will be a much better read than if you mindlessly relate every last detail of what happened.

Web boards like some of the private forums on EN World are a great way to deal with a lot of non-combat stuff. Not only do people "speak" better if they have a chance to think about and revise stuff, but it greatly eases the task of writing it up for the SH.

2) Have a point of view. 

A story told by someone who brings personality to what's told is infinitely more interesting than a series of mindless details. "The Chronicles of Burne and some others of lesser importance" in my sig, is a classic example of this. The guy writing Burne doesn't even try to pretend that he's giving an accurate account of what happened, but does try to drop hints for the readers as to what is really happening. Particularly through the commentary of Burne's familiar Abraxis.

3) A constant, regular series of short updates is much better than infrequent massive updates. 

It's like weekly TV, if it's on and new, people are more likely to read it than if it shows up at random times and they're never sure if it's something new. If they know that you will update it regularly they are more likely to read it. If nothing else endurance increases the odds that people will notice it and check it out. Especially if you can keep it on the first page on a regular basis.

Something on the order of a weekly update is probably ideal.

Expect this to consume a significant amount of time. Probably a minimum of 3-4 hours for the write up for a single session.

Get someone else to proof read you. Shil is an english teacher and grades papers for a living. Yet I regularly manage to find mistakes or clumsy statements (not a lot admittedly) that just slip by him. It also helps to keep the story straight, if someone else is making sure you didn't miss anything important.

4) Write it for yourself and your players. 

If you are doing this in the hope that it will bring you fame, fortune and the adulation of people on EN World, then don't bother. The odds that anyone outside of your group is going to pay attention to it are small. They do improve though, if people recognize your name or you've managed to accumulate a rep on EN World, like Shil has to some degree.

Your players will pay close attention to anything that you write that talks about their characters. This also usually means they don't pay any attention to anything else in the SH though. Mentioning the characters and their accomplishments, is a good way to stroke the ego of the players and to encourage them to participate and develop interesting characters. But try not to play favorites.


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## Vorput

Man... I wanted the Guardian Angels to attack Bruntutalephion...

That'd have been awesome.


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## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> Oh, it's like that part of Jaws where you just hear the music and you know the blood is coming




And it came last session - big time 

Note to players: Don't spill the beans for the moment, please. I need to make carborundum wait a bit too 



> Have you any tips for writing these updates? When I'm doing mine I get bogged down in what everyone did every round and lose the flow a bit. (It's all in Dutch or I'd post it.)




Rackhir actually covered it very well above. I definitely second not trying to cover everything that everyone does every round (a mistake I used to make earlier, and which I've progressively moved away from), but just hit the main moments. 

One thing that I'll emphasize when it comes to both combat and non-combat moments is to not worry about accuracy. It's a _story_ hour, so edit, modify, emphasize and even just add (or remove) things which'll make it work better as a story, rather than worrying about documenting everything correctly. 



			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> Man... I wanted the Guardian Angels to attack Bruntutalephion...
> 
> That'd have been awesome.




I wouldn't have been at all surprised if they had. 

But if you want to see some Guardian Angel on gargantuan dragon action ... just watch this space.


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## carborundum

shilsen said:
			
		

> But if you want to see some Guardian Angel on gargantuan dragon action ... just watch this space.




Trying not to blink, in case I miss it


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## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> But if you want to see some gargantuan dragon on Guardian Angel action ... just watch this space.




Fix't


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## Vorput

15 days and no update?

::sniffs::


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## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> 15 days and no update?
> 
> ::sniffs::



 Okay, okay - now I'm feeling guilty.

Here goes...

* * * * * * * * * *

The Guardian Angels appear on a rocky plain, with a large chain of mountains arising to the east. Looking around once the momentary disorientation of teleportation passes, they glimpse what looks like a large ruined town to the east. And their intended destination in the form of distant towers, some six miles to the west, rising above the slopes of a lonely peak. The towers seem to glow faintly against the early evening sky and the most far-sighted of the adventurers can see the rings of the city rising in levels between them. “That, according to what Bruntutalephion told me,” says Nameless, “Is Io’lokar.”
“Hmm. Why didn’t you _teleport_ us right there?” asks Luna.

“Because this is the spot that he showed me over the _telepathic link_ he used. He did say that he’d only been here once.” The alienist rises into the air. “Let’s go.”

*…*

Over two hours later, most of the Angels are trekking their way up the slopes of the mountain. Even though a wide, well maintained road makes the ascent easier, Gareth, Korm and Luna are all puffing slightly. “Damn!” says the paladin, looking down sadly at his normally shining armor, as dusty as it is heavy. “I hadn’t realized all this riding and _teleport_ing was getting us out of shape.”

Korm leans against a boulder for a moment and says, “What are you complaining about? I just got hit by an _arc of lightning_!” He gives Luna a half-dirty, half-amused look. “You were just waiting for an excuse to do that, weren’t you?”

The shifter grins, only slightly sheepishly, and says, “That pyrohydra we ran into had twelve heads! I wanted to fry it quickly before it could bite you with all of them, and it was immune to fire, so I needed to use the _arc_ and anchor it somewhere. And I knew you could take it. Plus you’re fine now!”

“Yeah, I could take it. But did you really need to empower the damn thing?!”

This time Luna’s grin turns more amused and a lot less sheepish. “No, but it was fun!”

Six, striding along ahead of them, unaffected by issues of fatigue, interrupts, “We have company.” The others look up at the city.

Io’lokar clearly has five levels, each one higher than the one immediately outside. Surrounding the lowest level are the high walls the Angels saw at a distance, gleaming more brightly now that they are closer. Huge towers rise above the wall at orderly intervals, and figures look down over the battlements at the Angels. Considering the distance and their size, they must be giants. There are a few smaller, human-sized figures beside them. From one of the further towers, a long neck and head – which must belong to a dragon – crane over the edge of the tower to see the visitors. One of the more interesting aspects of the towers is that the front of each has the heads of multiple dragons embedded in the stone.

But what Six has warned of is something else altogether. Three shapes have shot up from one of the towers and they now head swiftly for the Angels. They are clearly wyverns, though ones which move through the air with unusual grace for those unwieldy creatures, and each also bears a rider. The latter, all human-sized, wear gleaming plate armor and are armed with heavy lances. 

The wyverns soar forward and downwards, spreading apart as they advance. When one comes to a halt ahead of and above the Angels, the others continue around, so as to have the intruders at the center of a triangle. The first rider says, his voice polite but commanding, “Greetings, travelers! What is your business here?”

_Lots of magical equipment._ “We are newcomers to Argonnessen,” replies Nameless, “And one of the great dragons of the Vast, named Bruntutalephion, said we might find refuge and knowledge in Io’lokar.”

The man looks carefully at Nameless, then at the others, and then nods. “Yes. The gates of Io’lokar are open to all who come here in friendship. But tell me – do you number any half-dragons or yuan-ti among you?”

“No.”

“Very well. Follow the road to the main gate. Answer any questions you are asked there and enter.” The wyverns turn away smoothly, joining up again and heading for the tower. The lead rider hovers near the top of the largest tower, next to the gate, saying something to the guards above it, and then continues away. 

The Angels continue to walk along towards the gate. As they come within 120 feet of it, Nameless stops. He looks back and forth, scanning the area, advances a few feet, and stops again.

“What’s wrong?” asks Luna, looking around for signs of trouble.

“Magic. The entire wall’s magical. The stone is actually suffused with it. And the people on it all have a great deal of magic too. I’ve never seen this much magic in one location!”

“Well,” grins Korm, “Then Gareth will have fun trying to rob this place. And you’re drooling a bit too! Come on.”

The main gate stands open as the adventurers reach it, but there is a small reception committee awaiting them. The dozen humanoids are an eclectic collection, including humans, hobgoblins, dwarves, a half-elf, and even a changeling in his natural form. But what draws most attention are the two large figures with granite gray skin, each over twelve feet tall, who tower above the rest. The larger and older of the two stone giant, whose heavy gray beard extends halfway down the front of his shining mithral chainmail, steps forward. “Welcome to Io’lokar. But, before you enter, I must ascertain that you are what you seem to be. Is that acceptable?”

The Angels exchange glances, wondering what that entails. “Yes.”

“Very well.” The giant walks forward towards them, and as he steps into their midst, his brow furrows faintly in concentration. Immediately, an _antimagic field_ springs into existence around him, negating all the layers of magic on the Angels and revealing Nameless’ true form. The giant seems unworried by the revelation, studying the alienist appraisingly and then moving on to the others. “Thank you,” he rumbles finally, “You may pass.”

As he steps back and dismisses the effect, Luna says, “That’s a little rude, you know. And you guys seem kinda paranoid!”

“Ix-nay on pissing off the giant with the _antimagic field_, Luna,” says Korm under his breath, but the giant doesn’t seem upset. He replies, “The Vast is a dangerous place and many would harm Io’lokar or steal its knowledge and riches if they could. So we need to be careful. But once you have been allowed in by us, the Arnaaracaex, the defenders of Io’lokar, you will have no trouble. Unless you commit some crime, of course. I should also mention that while you will find the people of Io’lokar hospitable, if you wish to stay here long, you will need to work for your food and lodging. We Io’lokari respect skilled workers. Tell me, please, what skills you bring to our city?”

Six replies, indicating the others one by one, “He is a wizard, he is a priest and paladin, they are druids, and I am a warrior,” ignoring Luna’s muttered, “He _says_ he’s a druid!” The giant nods and then turns to Luna and Korm. “You are druids? Are any of you skilled gardeners?”

“Um … what?”

“Gardeners. Druids are the rarest of spellcasters in Io’lokar, and we are always looking for some people with skills in that area to look after the gardens and parks. We have some people, of course, but we could always use more.”

_That is not the job I was expecting to be offered here!_ “If we have the time, we’ll be happy to help in that area,” says Korm, and Luna nods. 

“Good.” After asking a few more questions, the giant allows the Angels to enter the city. Before they go, he says one last thing. “As newcomers to the city, please stay within the lowest level – the Freeward – and do not attempt to move into any other level unless asked to do so by someone who lives higher up in the city. Do you have any questions?”

The unfortunate giant is promptly assailed with a barrage of questions. “What is the crime rate here? Is there any chance of being mugged? Are there gnomes here? Are there dragonmarked people here? How are people with dragonmarks treated here? What languages do the Io’lokari speak?”

The giant patiently explains that there is almost no crime, they are almost certain not to be mugged, there are gnomes in the city, there are a very few dragonmarked people and they are treated like anyone else, and the Io’lokari speak many languages, though draconic is the most commonly used. Clearly wishing to forestall any more queries, he quickly suggests that they enter the city and see for themselves, and heads back up a wide set of stairs leading up to the tower.

The other onlookers politely depart as well, and the Angels proceed into Io’lokar, the City of Knowledge. At first glance, the city beyond the great wall and the giant towers seems not particularly remarkable. The buildings, a riot of color and architectural styles, all seem more suited to a noble’s enclave than the streets of a city, but the people moving around the streets seem no more unusual than a very eclectic population. Blacksmiths and other workmen labor in the workshops beneath their homes, citizens move back and forth in the two large open-air markets visible from the main gate, sweepers clean the city streets as thousands of feet pass them by, and so on.

But even if it were not for Nameless regularly pointing out the unusual volume of magic that they are surrounded by, the Angels take only a few minutes to confirm that things are very different here. A man walks up to the door of a house, speaks a word and rises into the air, _fly_ing up to a doorway on the second floor, followed by his wife and their small son. As one of the sweepers passes by about his business, he gestures and pronounces the words of a _prestidigitation_, causing his clothes to begin cleaning themselves, and then pauses for some of his other implements, being wielded by _unseen servant_s, to catch up. A few people disappear here and there, and while many do not reappear, others do so a few hundred feet away, apparently utilizing a _dimension door_ effect.

“They’re not spellcasting,” Nameless clarifies, “But using command words to activate dweomers built into all of this place. Anyone in here can use a _fly_ and a _dimension door_. As many times as they want. At will!” The alienist’s normally dry and impassive voice vibrates with fascination.

“Yes, we’re definitely not in Khorvaire any more,” says Korm.

“Let’s check out one of these markets,” says Six. “I want to see what they’re selling.”

In keeping with the rest of the city, the stalls at the closest market display wares of exquisite beauty and quality. Evidently aesthetics is very important to the Io’lokari, whether it be in a wooden workbench or in a magical sword where streams of fire and ice flow in an impossible spiral around the gleaming blade. Most of the stalls sell a few extremely well-crafted items rather than a large number of simpler ones. Vegetables and fruit seem to be the only things that are sold in great bulk here. 

There is, however, an even more unusual element to Io’lokari commerce than simply great availability of magic. Gareth asks an aged armorer how much a magical helm with swept-back dragon-like wings along the sides costs. The man smiles short-sightedly up at him and says, “You have a good eye. This is some of my best work. A bargain at eighteen days.”

“Huh? Eighteen days?”

“Yes, eighteen.”

_What the hell does that mean?_ “I was wondering how many gold coins you’d ask for it?”

This time it is the armorer who looks puzzled. “Coins?”

A middle-aged man at the next stall, who has overheard the interchange, steps over. “Ugil, these are strangers to town. They probably don’t understand how we work here.” He smiles pleasantly at the Angels and says, “We do not use coins for trade in Io’lokar, or for anything else. It’s all based on trade and work.”

“No coins at all? How about gems?” asks Luna curiously. 

The man shakes his head. “Not really. Unless you’ve done something interesting in carving them or mounted them as part of some item.”

As the Angels look around the area, they notice that there really is absolutely no coin being exchanged. People constantly pass items back and forth, but not a single piece of currency is visible. And many exchanges seem to be made on the basis of an exchange of words, a smile and a handshake.

“What was that about the days?” asks Nameless, indicating the armorer, who is now dealing with a local.

“We are exchanging the efforts of our work here, so sometimes we simply exchange work. It took Ugil eighteen days to make that helm. So he will exchange it for eighteen days worth of labor from someone, though if what someone else has to offer takes his fancy he may accept less, or ask for more, if he is not as interested. And someone might not have an item but could simply offer to work for a number of days in Ugil’s workshop.”

“That’s … interesting,” says Six, already calculating how valuable the work of an unsleeping and untiring construct could be. “Thank you.”

“I’m pleased to help,” says the man. “My name is Omat. So you _are_ new to town, correct? Are you from Khorvaire? And are you looking for a place to stay?”

“Yes, yes, and yes. Can you recommend an inn?”

“We have no inns in Io’lokar. Would you like to stay at my home?”

The Angels exchange surprised glances at the offer. “That’s very generous of you,” says Gareth cautiously, wondering what the man wants. “Wouldn’t it be an inconvenience?”

“No. Some taverns could put you up for a day, but you would need to do some work to pay your way after that. All services are paid for by work here. But I’ll be happy to accommodate you for a couple of days if you’re willing to tell me, and some of my neighbors and friends, tales of Khorvaire and anywhere else that you might have been. Sarlona? Xen’drik?”

“You seem well-informed about places outside Argonnessen,” says Nameless. “Are you a scholar?”

Omat laughs, waving a hand at the items sitting on his stall. “No – I’m a carpenter.”

* * *
Late that night, the Angels sit in a comfortable room in Omat’s house. “Well, that was certainly interesting,” says Korm. “I’m used to people being interested in our stories, but not getting room and board for them.”

“I just want one of those magical cook-pots they used to make dinner,” says Luna. “They make quite good food. Or they did, till you took them and added those horrible spices of yours!”

“Hey!” says the Gatekeeper indignantly, “They loved the traditional Marches fare and said they’d never had anything like it before!”

“I’m a little more interested,” Nameless interrupts dryly, “In getting the information we’re here for. About the seals? Which I presume you remember?”

“Yes,” frowns Gareth, “We all do, so save the tone. Some of us are just really interested in this place too.”

“So am I,” corrects the alienist. “Very. I just spoke to a weaver, the volume of whose lore would make some professors at Morgrave University to shame. If things were different, I wouldn’t leave this place in months, or maybe years. But I’m not losing sight of our objective. Maybe the message Omat took for us to the Colleges up in the Heights will get some response. Unfortunately, I couldn’t provide much detail of precisely what we need to know, but at least the mentions of Khesavuthir and the Tapestry and the Burning Tower should get some response. Omat was quite certain it would. We’ve got to be back in Khorvaire within four days for the meeting between the monarchs.”

“At least staying here won’t be a problem,” adds Six. “I exchanged a couple of carvings and Omat said he’d be happy to put us up for the next three days. I think they were mainly interested for the curiosity value, since I’ve seen far better work here, but I’m not complaining.”

“Can you exchange any sculpture for some of the magical equipment we’ve seen here?” asks Gareth. “It could be very helpful.”

“I don’t think I can produce work of that quality without spending a lot more time than we have,” says Six. “But I’m considering some options for when we’re back in Sharn. Nameless, you can _greater teleport_ us back here once we leave, right?”

“Yes. I checked and there’s no magical restriction on that in Io’lokar, though it was politely pointed out to me that a _greater teleport_ just outside the gate would be preferred. To save time, I’ll keep at least one ready tomorrow, and if we can find out more about these locations, we can head right to one of them.”

“I still vote for Khesavuthir,” says Gareth. “It sounds like a place with a lot of knowledge for the taking, and probably wealth and magic too.”

“You know,” Korm says meditatively, “Something tells me that you being a greedy bastard will be the death of you someday. And perhaps of some more of us.” 

As the Angels are soon to discover, the Gatekeeper is a much better prophet than they would have liked.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next day, there is a message for the Guardian Angels from one of the Colleges, specifically from an individual named Elabenna. She writes that she has heard of their interest in the Black Well, Khesavuthir, and thinks she can provide some information on the subject. Omat adds some information, saying that Elabenna is an elven scholar and soothsayer who served many years as a Master of the city (one of the people who choose to dedicate themselves to the administration of the city, a position available by choice to those who are most skilled). She is known to be an expert on the Prophecy as it relates to Io’lokar, and had sponsored a couple of expeditions to Khesavuthir, the last of them about a decade ago.

“That explains her interest,” says Six, a trifle gloomily, “I bet she offers us a job.”

The Angels thank Omat for his hospitality, mention that they might not be returning today if they find the information they need, and take their leave. With Elabenna’s letter providing permission for them to head into the upper levels of Io’lokar, they leave the Freeward and proceed up the wide thoroughfares that wind their way up the mountain base of the city.


----------



## shilsen

Passing through the wall gates that separate each tier from the other, they first enter the Terrace, home to the city’s professional warriors and to lower-rank spellcasters. This area seems full of shops and buildings dedicated to magical craftsmanship, with larger buildings where mages keep the imbued dweomers of the city functioning. Artful illusions and arcane entertainments are on constant display in places. More functional and just as essential to the city’s well-being are the citadel of brass-edged stone which houses the Union of the Spear, the Io’lokari wyvern riders whom the Angels met outside the gates, and the gleaming marble fortress where the Union of the Shield, the citizen militia tasked with defending the city, is based.

The next level is the Sunward, the home to higher-rank spellcasters, low-grade academics, and the city’s most respected entertainers. Although the cobbled streets of this area are quieter than of the two previous wards, there is constant activity around areas such as Lightstorm, the communal enclave of study and residence for the bards and illusionists who maintain the city’s theatrical traditions, or the Black Stage, the largest among Iolokar’s amphitheaters, with its shadow magic augmented performances. Much quieter but just as unusual as these areas to non-Io’lokari are the many large gardens dotting the Sunward, where _plant growth_s and other spells of the druid gardeners blends with planar magic tapping into the power of Lamannia, the Twilight Forest, evidently provides an entire season’s growth every single day. 

Beyond the Sunward lies the Angels’ destination, the Height, a stately hub of academic and scholarly tradition, and thus the virtual heart of Io’lokar. Here lie the city’s four great colleges, as well as the apartments of their wizards, sages and loremasters. Unlike the more eclectic buildings of the lower wards, the architecture here has a more consistent bent, reflecting the soaring stone and crystalline style one might see in the draconic observatories of Argonnessen. Only the massively fortified walls of the Bastion, home to the most powerful residents of the city and the Masters’ Hall, stands above the Height.

The Angels meet Elabenna inside one of the colleges in a large cluttered office, strewn with piles of books and documents. The elderly elven woman greets them politely and leads them to a more spacious meeting area, where she explains that their inquiries drew her attention due to the reference to Khesavuthir, a pet project of hers. She covers some of the details of the last expedition she sent into the Shadowlands in search of the place, which was led by three Io’lokari scholars, all of whom were skilled warrior-mages in their own right. They disappeared without a trace, and though her divinations reveal that the three are alive, she has never been able to locate them.

“It’s very vexing,” she explains. “Even _discern location_s have had no effect, and I have attempted them multiple times. I once even attempted a _wish_, but to no avail.”

_A wish?!_ Nameless studies the elderly academic with increased interest and some respect. “I presume,” he says, trying to modulate his rasping tones as much as he can, “You have some idea for how we can help each other beneficially in this regard?”

“Yes,” says Elabenna. “The scholars did send me regular updates on their progress, and I have the location of their last message, a spot I believe to be relatively close to Khesavuthir. I could provide you with that information and you could begin your search for Khesavuthir there. If you find it and return with any lore that you recover, I will pay handsomely for it, especially if you are interested in having spells – particularly divinations – cast for you.”

“That sounds doable,” says Nameless. “I am an arcanist, though apparently not of your skill. Would you be willing to share some spells with me before we leave?”

“Yes. So am I to take it that you are all interested in my proposition?”

“Yeah,” says Luna, “But I was wondering something – which of these three places we’ve been asking about would have information about aberrations. And am I important or famous?”

Elabenna stares at her in confusion for a moment. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean in this Prophecy thingy. Am I mentioned in it? I’m Luna,” the shifter adds helpfully.

“I cannot say that I have encountered any references to you,” Elabenna says carefully, “But my specialization is the Prophecy as it refers to Io’lokar. And Khesavuthir, I’m sure, would contain lore about aberrations, as would the Burning Tower and certainly the Tapestry. Whether you could access it in the Burning Tower and the Tapestry, of course, is another matter. They could both be very dangerous for you.”

“Isn’t Khesavuthir supposed to be very dangerous too?” asks Six. “A bronze dragon in the Vast said so.”

“Well, yes,” admits Elabenna, “But it is unclear what danger is there, whereas the dangers in the Burning Tower and the Tapestry are clear.”

“I don’t see not knowing as a good thing,” points out Korm. 

“I do have some information about dangers encountered by an expedition – not mine – and a dragon which claimed to have found the place, and some supposed landmarks in the area, so that should help somewhat.”

“So someone found it and returned?” asks Gareth. “What did they say they found there?”

“They were unable to enter, due to the aforementioned dangers. But I can give you that information if you agree to go. Are you interested?”

“Yes, we are,” says Nameless decisively, and Gareth adds his voice in agreement. “This is the riskiest, but best option for us.”

“Excellent,” says Elabenna. “I shall go and bring you the information you need. But there is someone here to meet you. An acquaintance of mine heard you were here and expressed an interest in seeing you.” As if on cue, a much younger elven woman walks through the door. Elabenna nods and then says, “This is Essirise. What she has to discuss with you is none of my business, so I’ll go get the information I mentioned.” She _dimension door_s away.

Six studies the newcomer. “Are you a dragon?”  

“Yes,” Essirise replies simply, with a smile which – now that she has identified herself – seems to have a slightly reptilian cast to it. “I am a member of the Chamber. I believe you are interested in visiting the Tapestry? I presume regarding the situation in Khorvaire with Xoriat?”

“Yes. So you do know what’s going on there?” asks Six. “I had wanted to contact your people in Khorvaire and didn’t know exactly how to do so.”

“Recently, some members of the Chamber attempted to contact you in Sharn as well, but you were elsewhere when they did so. A pity, but no matter, we still have some time.” She looks around at the group. “I have not been in Khorvaire for many decades, but I have heard of you and your actions. What do you wish of the Chamber and the Tapestry?”

“We need information and help,” replies Luna. “We’ve got to find out how to keep bloody Xoriat away and make new seals and maybe get some allies and find out about the Prophecy and …”

Nameless interrupts her quickly. “We are mainly interested in finding a way to sunder or block off Xoriat from Eberron again, and information about the dimensional seals would be very valuable to us. Especially knowledge about how to make more.”

“Hmmm,” says Essirise thoughtfully. “The Tapestry, as you apparently know, is home to the Chamber, and hence, of the dragons who would be willing to actively aid Khorvaire. But there are still limits on what we can – and are willing to – do, and sharing knowledge of the construction of the seals would breach those boundaries, many would say.”

“But what about Vvaraak?” asks Korm. “She taught my people how to make them.”

Essirise smiles. “True, but that was an unusual case. Anyway, I would like to help as we can. Would you be willing to plead your case before the leaders of the Chamber?”

“Absolutely,” says Gareth, face lighting up instantly at the prospect of addressing a collection of dragons. “We would love to have the opportunity.”

“Good. I shall travel to the Tapestry today and speak to others there and see what I can arrange. Then I shall contact you.”

“How soon will this occur?” asks Six. “Time is an issue for us.”

“It will take at least a week and likely more,” says the dragon, a trifle apologetically. “Not only will I need to contact many who dwell at widely separate locations, but discussions will be slow – by your standards. Our sense of time varies a great deal from yours.”

“That’s all right,” Gareth adds quickly. “We appreciate your efforts a great deal.”

Essirise looks curiously at the beaming paladin and says, “Thank you. I shall leave now and will be in touch soon. Will you be here in Io’lokar for some time?”

“Probably not. We need to be back in Khorvaire soon, and we are planning to travel to Khesavuthir. That’s why we are here to talk to Elabenna.”

“Khesavuthir?” The disguised dragon looks surprised. After a second, her expression clears and she says, “I see. You hope to find information there. I would caution you not to do so, since – from what I know – it is an incredibly dangerous place, but it is your decision.” Essirise hesitates again, and then says, “I shall take my leave. It was a pleasure and I hope to speak to you again soon.”

“As do we,” says Gareth, bowing deeply as she departs.

Luna rolls her eyes. “I’m telling Lalia!”

Elabenna returns as Essirise leaves, with the information she promised. Over the next quarter of an hour, she fills in the Angels on what she knows of supposed landmarks near the Black Well. Landmarks more than a few miles away are useless, since the Shadowlands is well known for having a shifting landscape. She also warns of one of the few constants in tales of Khesavuthir, namely the presence of strangely intelligent and unusual wyverns, which can breathe fire and are immune to the same element and resistant to others. They seem to guard the location and fight viciously to defend it, having driven away one expedition and a dragon which separately claimed to have found the location.

As promised, she also provides Nameless with access to a few powerful spells, mostly divinations. Once that is done, the Angels take their leave, promising to contact her as soon as they learn something useful. Nameless then studies the detailed description of the last location her previous expedition had been known to have reached, and transports the Angels away.

* * *

The five of them appear in the middle of a desolate landscape. Rough, broken stony ground stretches away around them, the terrain constantly broken up with small rises and depressions, a few hills or small mountains stretching towards the thickly cloudy sky above it. The area seems a little unnaturally dark, even with the completely overcast sky and lack of visible sun overhead, presumably the reason why it is known as the Shadowlands.

Not that the Angels spend much time on the consideration of geographical features or weather, since there are some distractions close at hand. Less than a hundred feet from them are a number of creatures forming an interesting, if potentially deadly, tableau. The center-piece is a hulking bipedal creature, with a stooped frame, a gray hairless body, and massively muscled shoulders. Long, thickly sinewy arms hang down to the ground, ending in huge, clawed hands. Its sloped forehead bears six small yellowish eyes. 

The creature, which some of the Angels identify as a gray render, has its arms raised threateningly and mouthful of sharp, black teeth bared, and has backed up against a large boulder. Surrounding it are four large reptiles, each a dozen feet in length. The heavily muscled creatures look like wingless dragons, though their bodies are more compact and necks comparatively shorter. The heads which top their red-scaled bodies have large, fang-filled mouths, now snarling with bloodlust as they move in on their lone target. Though the gray render’s huge bulk dwarfs theirs, it is clear that they have the advantage due to the numbers.

But then the situation changes. As the Angels appear, the draconic creatures’ heads snap around. Barely taking a second to consider the intruders, they spin around and charge, with jaws agape and emitting bestial roars. Their long legs cover the ground incredibly fast, and in seconds, they hurtle into the Angels. Or three of them do. As the one furthest in the rear turns, the gray render leaps onto its back. Its huge bulk bears the smaller creature to the ground and the render sinks its claws deep into the draconic hide, ripping and tearing away gobbets of flesh. Its target screams in pain and fury and rolls over, biting and clawing violently, though its smaller size and the render’s position makes its attacks less effective than could be.

Having identified the draconic creatures as rage drakes, a particularly vicious and unintelligent kind of flightless dragon which is also found in Khorvaire, Nameless shouts a warning to his friends, but before they can respond the attackers are among them. 

The first of the creatures hurls itself at Gareth, claws flashing and teeth snapping. The rage drake’s attack seems wildly chaotic and unpremeditated, but there is a deadly method to the madness. As the front claws rip at the target’s upper torso, they attempt to grab hold as well, allowing the creature to arch its back and bring up its hind legs suddenly, so that they can rip into the enemy’s unprotected underbelly and disembowel it with a quick sweep of the rear claws. And if that’s not enough, the large fangs grab the enemy – especially if it is smaller – and the rage drake snaps its head back and forth, shaking and disorienting its prey and rendering it incapable of response.* Though the paladin’s heavy armor prevents the worst of the onslaught, it cannot fully prevent it. Reeling under the attack, Gareth feels the jaws clamp around his upper left arm and then shake him viciously like a dog playing with a toy, almost dislocating it and leaving him momentarily stunned. 

Near him, Luna and Six too suffer a similar result, neither druid nor warforged being able to resist the tremendous assault. Six’s spiked chain drops from his grasp as his mechanical senses reel, and Luna cries out as her unarmored form is ravaged by her attacker’s teeth and claws despite Mordain’s augmentations. 

Nameless, having had the others around him while he _teleport_ed them, is left untouched and hurriedly takes to the air, calling forth a pair of huge earth elementals once he is safely out of reach. Korm too takes advantage of being momentarily untargeted and casts an especially powerful _arc of lightning_, placing it so that the electrical discharge strikes the creatures but not his allies in their grasp.** Then, not wanting to risk being grabbed like his friends, he swiftly casts a _freedom of movement_.

Despite Korm’s spell and the arrival of the elementals, the rage drakes remain focused on their targets, continuing to rip and tear at them. The latter, however, slowly gather their senses once the initial surprise has passed and fight back. The Endless Blade shrinks to the size of a dagger and Gareth stabs it again and again into his attacker’s skull, calling on the powers gifted by the Silver Flame to do amazing damage for such a small weapon. Luna simply transforms into a giant tendriculos, forcing open the jaws of the now much smaller rage drake and towering over it. As she does so, she quickly adds a swift healing spell to close some of her wounds.

Six, unfortunately, doesn’t have that option. As the warforged gathers his senses and prepares to call on the powers of his shadow armor, the rage drake continues to worry him, apparently undeterred by his unappetizingly mechanical form. Unluckily, one of its raking claws slides off his breastplate and into the fibrous bundles linking his torso to his waist. The scrabbling claws dig deep, grab hold for a second, and then rip away, taking a vital part of Six with them. The warforged convulses and screams as agony shoots through him and then goes limp.*** The rage drake drops him with a snarl and turns to the others.

“Crap! Six is down! Someone heal me!” shouts Gareth, still struggling in his attacker’s mouth, the rage drake showing no signs of releasing him even though Nameless’ elementals are pounding into it. But then the alienist summons two more to attack the same creature, and Korm releases another _arc of lightning_. The combined assault is too much and the creature finally succumbs, its half-broken and scorched body sagging to the ground. Gareth pulls himself from its mouth, only to find Six’s attacker facing him. 

Luna’s attacker is having a comparatively difficult time against the now huge druid, but even the tendriculos’ tough (and, on Luna, magically enhanced) bark is no match for its teeth and claws. “Luna!” shouts Nameless as she first batters the drake with her tentacles and then reels from its assault, “_Heal_ yourself!”

“And Korm – _heal_ me!” he shouts again, causing Korm to snicker and move in to help the paladin. As Gareth tries to hold back the attacking drake, the Gatekeeper casts the spell and reaches out to touch him, hand glowing with positive energy. But what both Gareth and Korm have forgotten in the heat of battle is the magical cloak the paladin wears, which displaces him slightly so that he is not exactly where he seems to be. The reaching hand that seemed about to touch Gareth’s shoulder simply passes by. 

“What are you doing?!” yells Gareth, as the drake’s attack forces him and Korm momentarily apart. 

The Gatekeeper frowns in confusion and then realizes what happened. “It’s your bloody cloak!”

“Sh*t! Luna!” shouts Gareth, as blood pours from more wounds, knowing that he has maybe only seconds in hand.

Luna, who is in the process of casting a _heal_ growls irritably. “Fine – you wuss!” Her giant tentacle reaches out and smacks Gareth squarely in the back, channeling her spell into him instead. The paladin gasps in relief and at the sensation of his mangled flesh knitting itself back together, until he is completely healthy again, and leaps back at the drake with renewed energy. 

Luna’s foe takes advantage of her momentary distraction to leap upon her, opening new wounds and almost bearing her to the ground. With a scream of mingled pain and frustration, she calls to her beast spirit. The omnipresent invisible presence answers, bringing forth the spell she had placed in its care in advance, and the befuddled drake is forced away as an _envigorating cocoon_ expands around her. 

Even as Luna protects herself, Six weakly lifts his head****. Realizing that he can’t afford to remain here and be a target, the warforged calls on his harness. Shadows wrap around him and then he is gone, appearing safely behind a rock fifty feet away. 

Not that Six need have worried. Only the two drakes remain, both of which are wounded, and with the four huge elementals, Nameless’ spells and a rejuvenated Gareth opposed to them, they quickly go down in bloody ruin, snarling and fighting viciously to the end. Much to the disgust of Luna, who is ensconced safely within her _cocoon_ and thoroughly irritated at the prospect of having nothing more to vent her bloodlust on, especially since she got to do little other than heal.

Luna’s irritation is swiftly compounded by what happens next. With the battle at an end, the Angels notice that there is one more creature still alive besides them. The gray render stands over the corpse of the drake it has slain, its huge chest heaving with exertion. Though victorious, it has taken tremendous punishment, and blood streams off its thick gray hide, some of which hangs in ribbons and reveals flesh and bone below. As they watch, it slumps to a knee, emitting a groan.

Korm looks down at his hand, still glowing with the unexpended _heal_ spell, and makes an instant decision, fueled at least partly by the response he expects from Luna. Which is instantly forthcoming as he strides towards the wounded creature.

“Korm!” Luna shouts from inside the _cocoon_, pounding in anger at the immobile bubble of force, “Don’t you dare! I’m the druid here! It’s my jo….”

Grinning broadly, the Gatekeeper grins and reaches out for the render. It glances at him with the six eyes, their light dimmed by pain and weakness, and feebly attempts to avoid his grasp. Then, as he touches it and the spell takes effect, it reflexively throws itself backwards, growling at the unexpected and strange sensation.

Korm readies himself in case it attacks, but the render is pawing confusedly at itself, checking its wounds and finding them gone. It glances at Korm, back at itself, and back to the Gatekeeper. Then it rises to its full height, towering well above him, and carefully extends a huge clawed arm. With surprising care, it gently caresses his shoulder and then folds its hand into a fist, rubbing the giant knuckles against his head. Korm winces slightly and then turns to grin back at the others. “I believe he has grown to love me.”

“Interesting,” says Nameless in a tone of academic curiosity. “I believe gray renders, though I’ve not encountered one previously, have the idiosyncratic habit of fixating on some other creature, whether it wants the attention or not, and following it around to protect it. It’s possible that your action has led to it imprinting o…”

“Imprinting?! I’ll f*cking imprint you right here!” bellows Luna, as she emerges from the disappearing _cocoon_. Unfortunately, due to the effects of the tongue, the bellow emerges as a shrill scream, which doesn’t help the effect. “Damn it, Korm! You know I wanted to do that! I should _arc of lightning_ you right now – you and your dumb gray friend!”

For a second, Korm half expects her to actually do that, but then she controls herself with an effort that sends a shudder up and down her tentacles. “You’re just bloody lucky I’m a _real_ druid and wouldn’t hurt an animal!”

“Actually,” begins Nameless, “It would be more correct to categorize it as a magical …”

Luna lifts an appendage as thick around as his head and waves it in front of the alienist. “Talk to the tentacle! Like I care any more!” She turns her back and strides over to check on Six and on Gareth.

“Well,” says Korm, letting out a breath and jerking a thumb at the gray render, which has now retreated to a distance of about a hundred feet and is watching the group, “What do we do with him?” 

“He could come in pretty handy in a fight,” points out Gareth.

“Unfortunately,” opines Six, “We’d have to walk in order to accompany it, and that would take too much time. Right, Nameless?”

“Right. We have to use the _stag_s and _steed_ if we’re to have any hope of covering this area quickly.”

After a little discussion, the Angels all agree they can’t take along their new friend. Summoning the magical mounts, they take to the air and soar away. The gray render watches in evident puzzlement and then breaks into a slow lope after them, but is quickly left behind.

“Damn,” says Korm, “I miss him already!” 


* Pounce, rake, improved grab, and worry (since I advanced these a few HD, DC 34 Fort save or be stunned). Rage drakes (MM3) have it all!

** This was me being a nice guy, since the _arc of lightning_ should arguably have hit the PCs, who were currently grappled and in the same squares as the rage drakes. 

*** Six went from 128 hp to -10 in two rounds.

**** We’re using the pseudo-4e death and dying rules now, and he rolled a natural 20 to stabilize, which brought him back to a quarter of his hit pts.


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:
			
		

> Okay, okay - now I'm feeling guilty.
> 
> Here goes...




18 hours and no update?

::sniffs::


Well... it worked before...


----------



## carborundum

LOL - nice try!

Sweet update, Mr Shilsen! The Grey Render is brilliant - has he got a name yet? (I'm assuming he'll be back?) I suppose Cuddles is too clichéd? Maybe Gary?


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> 18 hours and no update?
> 
> ::sniffs::
> 
> 
> Well... it worked before...




Ah, I see what you're doing!

*flips out and beats Vorput with a stick, which has a surprisingly Hong-shaped indentation in it*



			
				carborundum said:
			
		

> LOL - nice try!
> 
> Sweet update, Mr Shilsen! The Grey Render is brilliant - has he got a name yet? (I'm assuming he'll be back?) I suppose Cuddles is too clichéd? Maybe Gary?




Actually, the players decided that they should name him Pookie. Sadly, they couldn't take Pookie with them, so he's running somewhere through the Shadowlands right now, looking for that orcish druid he loves. 

And speaking of Gary, let's just say (cue maniacal laughter) you're way better at predicting the future than you might think. And my players never, ever want to hear that name again.


----------



## carborundum

/thinks of scary Garys (or is it Garies?   )

Gary Busey can be scary, Gary Oldman too. Creepiest has to be Gary Coleman though.

"What'chu talkin' 'bout, Nameless?"


----------



## Vorput

Well, we're at that 15 day mark again...


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> Well, we're at that 15 day mark again...



 And, like clockwork, I have an update for you 

* * * * * * * * * *

The Guardian Angels soar through the air above the Shadowland, the broken tundra unrolling swiftly beneath them. The area is superficially similar to the Mournland with a sky full of low-hanging storm clouds, which makes visibility poor, but otherwise there are significant differences. The random rocky peaks which break up the landscape, for one, and, more importantly for the Angels, the knowledge that all their magic should work here. 

The magical mounts certainly function as normal, bearing the riders at tremendous speed above the barren landscape. As they ride, the Angels watch for the landmarks which Elabenna had listed for them as indicating proximity to Khesavuthir, especially a lone mountain which is supposed to be carved with the visage of a red dragon, resembling the giant monoliths off Totem Beach.

A couple of hours pass, with the Angels seeing nothing that matches the landmarks they are looking for, even though they have covered over a hundred miles. The one thing they do discover is that the landscape in the Shadowland shifts slowly but constantly. Areas which seem to be near each other turn out to be much further apart, and on the odd occasion when they retrace their steps to ascertain their positions and directions, the areas they have passed over seem slightly different now. And when they head towards a particular landmark, they slowly seem to drift off-course in the process, regularly having to turn their steeds slightly to maintain the same direction. 

“Maybe it’s these damn mountains which are shifting around?” asks Luna, looking irritably at the clouds as if they personally offended her. “Without being able to see the sun it’s hard to be sure about direction, but it always seems off by a bit when we do.”

“Who knows?” shrugs Gareth. He glances at Nameless. “You said there’s no magic at work, right?”

“Correct,” replies the alienist. “These effects are all natural to the place. Of course, given that Elabenna said this area is a result of the dragon-demon wars, natural goes only thus far. Luckily, we have many more hours in the day, so we can cover a lot more ground before having to rest. I suggest…”

“Heads up!” Six calls a warning, pointing ahead. “We’ve got company coming right for us.” He peers at the swiftly approaching shapes with his lidless eyes. “They’re some sort of … X-wing?”

The response is appropriate, given the weird shape of the approaching creatures. Each has a sinuous, snakelike body with a long neck and tail. Most of the body is covered with iridescent blue scales, with tufts of yellow feathers at the base of the neck and tail. The head has four eyes, one pair above the black, toothed beak and the other pair below. But the most unusual feature is the two pairs of feathered wings extending from the body, one pair above and one below, each wing at a right angle to the ones closest to it and forming an X-shape.

Nameless takes a quick look at the strange beasts and calls, “Arrowhawks! We’re too fast for them, so just fly around them.” His _phantom steed_ responds immediately to the command, peeling away at a sharp angle and speeding away. The rest of the Angels comply, not wanting to waste time with these creatures. 

Or at least most of them do. Seconds later, they look back to see Korm urging his _stag_ at the creatures. “Korm!” yells Gareth, “What are you doing?” The answer is swift. “Enjoying myself!”

With the combined speed of his _stag_ and the arrowhawks, Korm rockets into them in seconds, yelling with excitement. As he gets within fifty feet, each arrowhawk whips its tail towards him, sending a crackling blue ray at the Gatekeeper. All four hit unerringly, and Korm’s yells take on a surprised tone as his hair stands on end from the electrical discharges. He responds with a two-handed chop that lays open one creature’s side, and then turns his mount so that he can attack again. 

The arrowhawks promptly wheel around with perfect precision and spin around him in elliptical orbits, continuing to fire their electrical rays, almost all of them hitting. Within seconds, Korm realizes that this is getting far more dangerous than he’d expected. A swift _resist energy_ takes care of the electrical attacks, but, to his disgust, the arrowhawks switch to vicious bites which are almost as effective. 

“Aaah! Damn it!” Irritated, the Gatekeeper calls on another of his innate powers and fixes one of the arrowhawks with a baleful gaze. To his own mild surprise, his version of the evil eye actually takes effect. Without a sound, the target shuts its four eyes and plummets towards the ground five hundred feet below. 

“Yes!” exults Korm, a second before two slashing beaks bite into him. “Sh*t!” He quickly commands his _stag_ and it obediently shoots away, leaving the three pursuing creatures behind.

When he rejoins the others, who had stopped a long distance away and were watching with a mixture of amusement and irritation, Six asks, “What was that about?”

“Just enjoying myself,” grins Korm, chest heaving with his exertions, “Since I needed a little exercise.” He looks down at the scorch marks on his body. “Ow! Seriously – who creates a four-winged creature which can shoot lightning bolts from its ass?”

“Don’t look at me,” says Nameless dryly. “You can’t blame even the daelkyr for that weird monstrosity. Now we’ve wasted enough time. Come on!”

* * *

Another hour later, it is Luna who spots the mountain the Angels have been looking for, standing alone miles from any others and its summit visibly carved in the shape of a dragon. The adventurers arrow towards it, looking around for other landmarks that Elabenna mentioned. When they are approximately three miles from it, they spot something on the ground, or more precisely, in it. About half a mile away are two draconic skeletons, both of them seemingly rearing up to fight, each stretching over a hundred feet in length. A quick study reveals that, just as Elabenna had mentioned, their lower sections are partly buried within the ground, and they seem to have been petrified.

“I wonder if these are real skeletons or created by someone,” wonders Gareth aloud. 

“From the detail, I’d guess they are real, but we’d have to go down and check to be sure,” says Nameless. “Which we don’t need to waste time on.”

“Maybe we could take them with us to decorate the new house,” suggests Luna.

“Really?” Korm rolls his eyes. “They’d be bigger than the entire house! And how would we transport them?”

“I don’t know!” Luna gestures at Nameless. “He’s always saying how much of a genius he is, so ask him! I just suggest the decorations. You guys are the ones who need to work out how it should happen.” 

“No, we don’t actually need to…”

As usual, Six is more focused on the group’s target than his companions, so he is again the one to interrupt. “Pay attention, people. Look at the dragon head.”

The others focus their attention on the giant carving and see what the warforged already has, slow and massive movement above it. A huge figure pulls itself laboriously onto the crown of the stone dragon’s head and stares at the oncoming Angels. Then it rises clumsily into the air and heads for them.

This creature is clearly draconic too, but its movements are slow and sluggish, and its scaly green hide sports gaping holes and tears. Though the wings are clearly functional and carry it at a good speed, they are ragged and torn, and it seems extremely clumsy in the air. “Zombie!” Nameless says succinctly.

“I thought so,” says Six. “Do zombies retain any of their original abilities?”

“No,” says Gareth.

“In that case, I’ll deal with this,” says Six. “Stay away from it and conserve your spells, please.” The warforged promptly dives his mount towards the ground.

Due as much to curiosity as anything else, the others comply and fly in a wide circle, which the undead dragon has no chance of closing. Six, meanwhile, hops off his steed, grabs up a boulder weighing nearly a hundred pounds, and climbs back on. The magical mount uncomplainingly shoots upwards under his command, rising well above the dragon. The warforged flies a good hundred feet above the zombie dragon, studies its movements and releases the missile. Though the creature attempts to dodge, it is too clumsy to do so and the rock slams into its side, ripping away undead flesh and clearly breaking bones. But it does not react in any way to the blow, simply attempting again to reach Six.

The warforged ignores the attempts and simply drops quickly to the ground again, picking up another rock and then repeating the process. Once, twice and thrice, he batters the hapless undead with more rocks. Though heavily damaged, the zombie continues to follow him, to little effect. Only once, when he happens to fly closer than he planned, passing within fifty feet, does it manage to slightly incommode Six. The zombie belches forth a cone of corrosive acid. 

Surprised by the unexpected attack, Six quickly flies away with only some minor damage to his superstructure, and then resumes his attacks. Two more are all it takes, and the zombie tumbles from the sky. The huge body smashes into the rocky ground below, raising dust and cracking the tundra surface, and lies still.

As Six descends beside it, the others rejoin him. “Nice work,” says Korm, before turning to Gareth. “I thought you said zombies lost the original body’s abilities.”

“They do,” confirms the paladin. “Whoever created this one had some unusual skills.”

“I think,” points out Luna, “It’s pretty obvious that anyone who can kill a huge dragon and turn it into a zombie has unusual skills! This thing was big.” She points down at the cracks around the body, and then frowns. “Is it my imagination or is that crack growing?”

Gareth looks down at the area near his feet, feeling it begin to tremble, and opens his mouth to agree. But before he can say a word, the ground crumbles away beneath him. With a startled yell, the paladin disappears as a circle approximately a dozen feet wide caves in, rocks and earth tumbling in above his falling form to hide him from view. 

Not that his companions have time to worry about him, as the source of the cave-in appears in his stead, bursting from the ground right beside the spot where Gareth just stood. The creature is almost as large as the zombie dragon was, and is also clearly draconic in form, though it lacks any wings. Its thick and muscular body is covered in dirty ivory scales whose color blends well with that of the earth it emerged from. Backswept horns decorate either side of the thick head and overly large fangs fill its large mouth. With a barking roar, the landwyrm throws itself at the nearest target, which turns out to be Korm.

Before the surprised Gatekeeper can respond, the creature sinks its claws into his chest and side. Its tremendous weight bears him to the ground, and as he struggles to raise his sword, it latches onto his arm. The huge jaws allow it to grasp the entire upper arm, shoulder and half of his chest and back, the sharp fangs biting deep and literally stapling his arm in place. 

As Korm cries out in agony, Nameless takes to the air, shouting, “Luna – elemental! Get Gareth out!” The alienist summons a pair of elementals himself, flanking the landwyrm and hammering at it with flaming fists, but it simply growls and shows no signs of releasing its prey. Six’s chain, slashing into a soft spot amidst the hard scales, has no greater success either, and Korm himself is in no position to do anything, pinned in place by his enemy.

The Gatekeeper struggles desperately and feels the jaws relinquish his arm. But even as he feels a surge of hope, Korm realizes that it was intentional, as the landwyrm again bites down, having shifted position slightly so as to be able to literally swallow his entire head. The fangs bite partly into Korm’s head and partly his chest and back, only sheer luck saving his head from being bitten clear off his body. 

Not that it much improves Korm’s situation. Amidst the excruciating pain and the stifling darkness and stench within the landwyrm’s mouth, he feels its thick tongue flapping wetly against his head and chest, followed by a draconic gurgle of pleasure. To his horror, Korm realizes that he can hear and feel the creature actually lapping up his life-blood as it holds him in its mouth. Then the jaws tighten and bite deeper and everything goes black.*

Luckily Korm, even as he collapses, only seconds from dying permanently even with Mordain’s augmentations, does have something in hand. To the landwyrm’s surprise, a bubble of force appears around the Gatekeeper, forcing its jaws apart and rendering his unconscious body safe from any further damage.

Meanwhile, under the ground, Gareth is both blessing the fact that his _necklace of adaptation_ keeps him from suffocating under the earth and rock covering his face, and cursing the fact that he’s stuck fast. “Hey, Blade!” he calls, trying – somewhat unsuccessfully – to avoid swallowing any dirt, “Can you get me out?”

“Are you kidding me?” comes an aggrieved – and muffled – voice from nearby. “I can help you fly, but not through the earth.” After a second, the Blade adds, with some satisfaction, “Unless someone digs you out, I’m going to be okay, but I think you’re f*cked!”

“Thanks!” mumbles Gareth. Then, to his inordinate surprise, though he can see nothing, what feels like a giant hand grabs him. And then pulls him inexorably, and painfully, through the ground. The paladin grits his teeth as he feels flesh being stripped away, though the heavy armor protects against the worst of the effect, and then suddenly emerges above the ground. The large earth elemental which brought him to the surface relinquishes him and, at a word from Luna, rushes at the landywrm.

Gareth throws one look around the area, seeing Korm within a _cocoon_ and Six in the grasp of a huge creature, which is being assaulted by two huge fire elementals and spells from Nameless and Luna. No explanation is needed and the paladin hurls himself forward. 

The landwyrm, scorched and bruised by the elementals but still full of fight, bites down on the new creature that it has seized. But its teeth clash together uselessly as Six neatly vanishes in a swirl of shadows and reappears similarly thirty feet away. The confused creature looks around and then screams in agony as the Endless Blade slashes down, driven by all the gifts of the Silver Flame, biting deep into the base of the landwyrm’s tail and almost severing its spine. 

As the landwyrm spins around towards Gareth, the elementals redouble their attacks, and more spells from Luna and Nameless hit home. Six leaps forward too, shadows coiling around his chain. The landwyrm turns reflexively at the motion, just in time to see the chain leap towards and through its right eye, punching neatly into the brain beyond. Without a sound, the huge beast collapses, Korm’s blood still red on its fangs.

As his _cocoon_ disappears, the rejuvenated Gatekeeper emerges, shaking his head irritably. “That was nasty! I’m just glad it didn’t have friends.”

“And I’m just wondering why we’re here looking for this damn place again,” complains Luna. “That’s the third time today one of you has almost got killed. We’re going to run out of luck sooner or later.”

“We’re here because it’s the best…” begin Gareth and Nameless simultaneously, and then pause to look at each other with a combination of confusion and amusement.

“You two stop agreeing!” growls Luna. “It’s creepy! And an even better indication that you idiots will get us killed.”

“Maybe they will,” shrugs Korm fatalistically, “But it’s interesting to see you this worried. Shouldn’t you be enjoying all the chances to blow things up that they’re giving you?”

“I’m the first person to admit that I like blasting things, but I only do that in self defense or for things that need blasting. I don’t go looking for it, especially not in a place like this.” She waves her arms disgustedly at the trio and looks up at Six, who has flown his _stag_ to the carved dragon’s head and is perched atop it. “See anything?”

“Yes.” Six points in the direction opposite to the one the Angels arrived here from. “There’s a semi-circle of mountains some five-six miles away, just like Elabenna described. But I don’t see the three archways she mentioned as marking the entrance to Khesavuthir.”

“That’s not too surprising,” says Nameless, “And considering that we might be on the verge of discovering a location which has apparently been lost to an entire continent of dragons for ages, I’m not about to complain. Let’s mount up and head there.”

As the Angels fly in, they see that there are actually five mountains forming an arc. When they are about two miles from them, Luna rises slightly in her seat and points at a spot right in the center of the arc. “There! I see some sort of structures. But they’re not fifty feet high archways like she said.”

As they fly closer, the others see what she noticed. There are three broken structures, each about a dozen feet high and perhaps twice as wide, which form a triangle. They surround a large, perfectly circular hole, like the opening of a shaft leading into the ground. The Angels are too far away to make out any more details or where the shaft leads. What they do make out, however, are the three huge creatures which emerge from the nearest of the mounts and wing towards them. Despite the distance, the ungainly shapes and especially the large tails held scorpion-like over their heads identify them clearly as the wyvern guardians the Angels were warned of. 

Korm studies their movement and says, “They’re as fast as the _stag_s in a straight line and faster than your _steed_, Nameless. Do we fight?”

“No,” says the alienist. “Head for the shaft. We’ll take a quick look and if need be, pull back. We’ve got far more maneuverability.”

The Angels urge their mounts to maximum speed, while the wyverns also race forward on their powerful wings from the opposite side. The magical mounts win the race by a few seconds, and as they swoop down their riders can see that the shaft leads perpendicularly down into darkness beyond the range of their vision. Nameless throws a quick look at the wyverns, charging in with gaping mouths, and makes a snap decision. “Down the hole!”

As his _steed_ spins over and dives in, the others follow, with Luna grumbling, “If there’s a wall at the end, we’re all going to look really stupid!”


* Tundra landwyrms (Draconomicon) do Con damage with each grapple check and have Improved Grab. This one was making four checks per turn and doing 1d6 Con damage and 2d8+13 hp with each check.


----------



## shilsen

There is no wall at the bottom, but there is one midway up the tunnel, and an unusual one at that. A hundred feet or so below the surface, Nameless’ eyes widen as his _arcane sight_ suddenly picks up an aura of abjuration extending all the way across the shaft. _A wall of Dispel Magic!_ Unfortunately, with the magical mounts at full gallop and descending, which increases their speed to unbelievable levels, there’s no time to pull up. Not that the Angels could do so safely, as the first wyvern appears at the mouth of the shaft above and drops after them.

Luckily, as the Angels flash through the _wall_, there are no adverse effects. They have few spells in effect and none are dispelled, and, more importantly, neither are their mounts. “We just went through a _wall of dispel magic_,” Nameless quickly explains to the others. 

There’s no time for discussion, however, as the shaft ends five hundred feet below the surface in a giant circular chamber. Dozens of gigantic tunnels, each at least twenty feet across and completely smooth, lead away from it at different angles, twisting and turning as they plunge deep into the earth. The chamber is completely empty except for the perfectly preserved head of a huge black dragon, which sticks out of a wall. Nameless detects multiple auras on it, the results of which manifest as soon as the Angels enter. The lips seem to move and a strongly resonant, clearly draconic voice says, “Who disturbs the sanctity of Khesavuthir and the rest of Xagygyrag*? Flee! Flee now – or die!” 

Even before the _magic mouth_ finishes speaking, Nameless swoops towards the nearest tunnel. “In here!” The Angels fly in and around the first turn, before leaping from their mounts, weapons and spells at the ready for the wyverns to follow.

Unable to see around the corner, they hear the flap of wings and the whooshing sound of giant bodies descending, followed by the clatter of huge claws on stone. Then there is only heavy breathing and muffled growls for a couple of seconds, before a thick voice speaks in draconic. “Shall we go after them?”

“No,” replies a similar voice. “We should have caught them before they entered. Xagygyrag will punish us if he finds us, for our failure and for trespassing. Leave them to him. He will slay them all.”

A third voice adds in, “I agree.”

There is silence for a second and then the sound of heavy, leathery wings flapping. 

The Angels wait for a couple of seconds and then Luna cautiously pokes her head around the corner. “They are gone. Who’s Zagy… Xagygy… whoever?”

“Probably the owner or guardian of this place,” says Korm. “And apparently the wyverns are scared of him, and think he can kill us all. Sounds like a fun guy.”

“I wonder if this belongs to him,” says Six, from further down the tunnel. The others turn to see what the warforged is holding up. At first it seems to be a flat, dull black plate of some kind, about the size of a heavy shield. And then they realize that it is a single scale, presumably from a dragon.

There is silence for a moment, and then the Endless Blade says simply, “Motherf*cker!”

Luna says, “What he said. Why are we here again?”

Nameless sighs. “We already covered that. Let’s not start all over again.” 

“Agreed, but what about that,” says Korm, pointing at the scale. “If that came off a dragon that’s currently here, it’s big. Really big. And not likely to be friendly.”

“I don’t think we should assume that,” says Gareth. “Maybe we can explain to it why we’re here. After all, it shouldn’t want Xoriat to be here either.”

“Remember, that dragon Bruntu-whatever didn’t care much about Xoriat,” reminds Six. “But if you’re sure you want to go on today, let’s do so. Are you sure?”

After a quick discussion by the others, consisting mostly of Nameless and Gareth wanting to go on, Luna wanting to get some rest and regain spells, and Korm being fairly neutral, the Angels decide to go on. Six takes point, blending into the shadowy walls of the tunnel. 

The tunnel coils and curves deeper into the stone, angling slowly downwards into the earth. As the Angels move along it, they encounter more tunnels, nearly all of equivalent size, heading in myriad different directions. Anyone else would be lost here, but Six, Luna and Korm’s unusually keen senses make them fairly certain that they can find their way back. Just to be on the safe side, however, they begin to mark the walls as they pass with chalk, and then with the light stones taken from the Seed in the Mournland, leaving a glowing trail behind them.

The tunnel opens up at intervals into huge chambers. The first two are empty, but not the third. The first thing the Angels notice is the golden gleam at its center, the source of which is a neatly spherical space, a few inches below the level of the floor, apparently full of gold coins. The walls of the room have large ledges which run all around it, each bearing dozens of gigantic stone slabs, each at least a dozen feet tall and perhaps half as wide. Large draconic writing covers the surface of each.

The adventurers enter the chamber cautiously and begin to examine it, focusing on their individual interests. Gareth and Luna make a bee-line for the gold, and discover that it fills a shallow bowl-like indentation which stretches across the floor of the chamber. The paladin asks for the _portable hole_ and quickly begins scooping the gold into it. 

Nameless, studying the slabs, comments dryly, “You realize that stealing its treasure will make negotiation with this place’s owners a little difficult, don’t you?”

Gareth pauses, ankle deep in gold coins, and says, “Well – we came here to recover what we can find, didn’t we?”

“Mainly lore about the seals, if I remember correctly,” chuckles Korm, “But don’t let that stop you. Oh, you missed a couple thousand there, you greedy so-and-so.”

Gareth just scowls, but goes back to shoveling coins into the _hole_ with Luna’s help. When he catches the druid’s eye, she says, “You idiots made me come here though I think it’s stupid. If we get out, at least we’re going to take some money with us.”

Behind them, Six turns away from one of the slabs and says, “I can’t read them, Nameless. Are they draconic?”

“Yes,” replies the alienist. “And references to the Prophecy, I’m quite certain. This one reads like a list of marks that have been seen in various places. Including, as far as I can make out, Khorvaire. So either someone has traveled here from Khorvaire or is able to study it from this location.”

“Scrying?”

“Maybe. I wish we could make a list of all of these notes, but it’ll take too long,” he gestures around the chamber at the thirty plus stone slabs. 

From across the chamber, Korm says, “Looks like it’s not all about the Prophecy. This one’s all about names and … um, sacrifices. Looks like a list of people or creatures that made some sacrifice to gain knowledge, since they all say, ‘I, whatever the name is, sacrifice here something in exchange for knowledge of the something’. And ….” He pauses and then says, “Well, looks like someone was right. Vvaraak was here.”

Gareth, having cleared the depression of coins, steps over and stares at the slab. Unable to read the language any more than Six can, the paladin says, “What does it say about Vvaraak? And, by the way, there must have been over ten thousand coins in that pile.”

“Good. And it says ‘I, Vvaraakinsiyark, sacrifice here a … I’m not sure how to phrase it, but it’s a draconic term equating to ‘holy avenger’ … in exchange for knowledge of the blood.”

“Knowledge of the blood?” asks Nameless.

“Holy avenger?” asks Gareth, his eyes lighting up. An instant later, a voice growls from his right hand, where he has re-summoned the Endless Blade as a convenient dagger after having collected the coins, “If you even _think_ about trading up for another sword, I will stab you in the face!”

Korm chuckles. “Sword’s got a point. And anyway, apparently she sacrificed it. If this is Vvaraak, which – though I’ve never heard this full form – it is, or was. There are no dates, unfortunately, so that I can be sure. But if Vvaraak was here and obtained this knowledge of the blood, whatever it…”

As now seems to always be the case in times of trouble, Six interrupts. While listening to Korm, the warforged has been looking at other parts of the chamber, including the one tunnel leading away from it, on the opposite side to the one they entered through. This one leads in a straight line beyond the reach of his darkvision and the Angel’s lights. And now, as he looks down it, something stirs in the shadows that he cannot see into. There is no sound and barely any hint of movement, but Six is suddenly very, very certain that he is being watched.

“Guys!”

As the others turn to look towards and past him, Nameless’ _arcane sight_ reveals two faint magical auras in the darkness. Their source is revealed a moment later, as an incredibly deep and clearly draconic voice rumbles, “Who are you that dare trespass in Khesavuthir, the domain of Xagygyrag?” 

The voice is followed immediately by the speaker’s appearance, as a serpentine neck over a dozen feet long extends out of the darkness. Atop it is the skull-like head of a gargantuan black dragon, with its segmented horns and protruding teeth. 

“Go on, Gareth!” hisses Nameless, and the paladin quickly steps forward. He bows and says, “Great dragon, we mean you no harm. We have come here in search of lore to stop the invasion of Khorvaire by the hordes of Xoriat. If we may explain…”

The dragon Xagygyrag shows no signs of comprehension as it gazes first at Gareth and then past him at the others. Then the deep-socketed eyes narrow slightly. “Fools and thieves!” he rumbles, “Now you shall die.” It surges forward.

Though he doesn’t understand the language, the intent is clear, and Six responds instantly, using his embedded wand to _haste_ the others. Less than a second behind him, Nameless casts a swift _shield_ and then another protective spell to _blink_ in and out of existence. Gareth casts a spell that will allow him to do more damage to larger enemies, even as the Endless Blade – swearing vituperatively – lengthens into a falchion. 

Though Gareth stands almost within the tunnel which he is emerging from, Xagygyrag ignores him, literally stepping over the paladin and into the chamber. Seizing his opportunity Gareth strikes, but though the Blade connects it is like striking a stone wall, leaving only a tiny nick in the dragon’s side. 

The dragon ignores the blow completely, pulling in a deep breath. There is the sizzle of acid and then it breathes, but not in the line that most dragons of his ilk do. Instead, he whips his neck violently and releases a giant stream of acid, spraying it all around the chamber. Cries of pain ring out around the chamber as each of the Angels is badly burned by the liquid, even Six’s agility being of no avail against the spray.** Only Nameless, partly protected by _blink_ing away from some of the blast, is comparatively less hurt, but he realizes immediately that this foe is beyond them – especially in their current condition.

The two druids react immediately with the same tactics, first using an _assay resistance_ and then bringing down an empowered _flame strike_ on the dragon. Even with the first spell aiding her efforts, Luna’s column of flame simply winks out against the dragon’s magical resistance, but Korm’s successfully scorches his hide, drawing an angry growl.

Nameless quickly calls forth a pair of huge earth elementals to aid the Angels, and they hammer into the dragon. To the alienist’s horror, their attacks have absolutely no effect, simply bouncing off its hide. “We’re in trouble!” he shouts. “I don’t think we can beat this thing!”

“You think?!” shouts back Six, wondering what to do next, not wanting to close to melee with the creature but knowing he can do little to it from a distance.

As he hesitates, Gareth takes a desperate gamble. Already quite certain that the dragon does not understand the common tongue of Khorvaire, he decides to risk everything on the presence of the dragonmarks, which he knows at least some of the dragons are very interested in. The paladin unsummons the Endless Blade and waves both hands above his head, to show that they are empty, and then rips off his helmet, tilting his head to one side to more clearly show the Mark of Siberys which extends up the side of his neck. “Don’t attack!” he yells to his companions, “Maybe I can get him to stop!”

Xagygyrag’s head snaps down towards the defenseless target and then stops suddenly, mere feet from Gareth’s head. The dragon cocks his head, ignoring the still attacking elementals and the other Angels as if they were inconsequential, and then its thin lips part in a smile which bares every fang. A trickle of acidic drool drips off the lower jaw, barely missing Gareth, and its forked tongue emerges to lick its lips. “Excellent!” he says finally, “You will make a fine sacrifice!” And then he speaks a few arcane syllables and disappears. 

The Angels look around, uncertain that he is gone, and then Korm says, “That’s got to be the most amazing negotiation I ever saw!”*** 

Gareth, looking slightly dazed at his own success, looks around. “What did he say?”

“Oh, he thinks you will make a fine sacrifice.”

“Can I just say,” growls Luna, “We should get the f*ck out of here? Now!”

“Good idea,” says Six. “Nameless, can you _teleport_ us out?”

“I’m not sure. We were told that teleportation around this area was very unreliable. Then again, the dragon just _dimension door_ed away. So maybe it’s safe. But should we risk it?”

Six replies thoughtfully, “Let me try something. But can you put up a _telepathic bond_ first?” Once Nameless does, the warforged concentrates and the shadows which had sprung up from the harness to surround him during the battle roil and expand, surrounding him completely. And then they disappear, along with him. But he doesn’t reappear.

After a couple of seconds, the others transmit over the link, “Umm, Six – you okay?”

“I’m fine,” comes the reply, “But I’m in another room like this one, with lots of slabs. Can you locate me?”

“We’ll try. Perhaps using a teleportation spell of my own will transfer us there? Let us try it.”

The remaining four adventurers ready themselves and then Nameless casts a _dimension door_ of his own. Luna and he both appear where he was attempting to, on the other side of the same chamber, without any ill effects. Korm disappears, but then is shunted violently out of the floor, having apparently reappeared some ten feet below them, his skin mildly ripped in the process. Gareth does not reappear.

Instead, he appears right next to Six. As the warforged just described, this room is much like the other, with many stone slabs covered in draconic writings along the walls. There is also a similar depression in the floor, but this one is empty. 

After a little discussion via the link, the Angels decide that they need to physically attempt to meet up with each other, Nameless using a _locate creature_ spell to discover that the others are at least within a thousand feet. Both groups slowly move through the tunnels, fearing that Xagygyrag will make a reappearance. 

Luckily, he does not, and a few minutes later, they are reunited. They hastily head for the exit and, substantially aided by the light stones, eventually return to the first chamber. Luna breathes a sigh of relief. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Let’s be careful,” reminds Six. “Those wyverns might be at the top.”

“Wyverns?” snorts Luna. “Wyverns I can handle. Giant dragons I could do without. Let’s go see those wyverns!”

* * *

Shortly afterwards, having reduced three huge, malformed, fire-breathing – and, most of all, really unfortunate – wyverns to scorched, electrified, and savagely hacked corpses, the Angels are in a _rope trick_ a couple of miles from the entrance to Khesavuthir, discussing what to do the next day. 

The discussion splits the adventurers clearly into two groups. Gareth and Nameless wish to prepare themselves and head back into Khesavuthir, ready to encounter and defeat Xagygyrag. Luna and Six are just as adamant that this is a bad idea and they should leave. Korm is open to both options, perhaps leaning towards the first pair’s opinion.

“Yes,” says Six, “We’ve got some good plans, but this is my preference – Go back to Io’lokar and talk to everybody. See if anyone wants to travel with us to Khorvaire. Return and meet the heads of state, telling them everything that we are not sworn to secrecy over. See if they want to send anyone to Io’lokar. Go back to the city and wait until called by the Chamber or the Khorvaire Council. By that I mean the newly formed Khorvaire Council, if they know what’s good for them. From all of this, somebody is going to say something that will make our path clear.”

Gareth shakes his head firmly. “That would be a waste of time. We are here and we know that Vvaraak was here. And we may never be able to find this place again if we leave. We need to do this now!”

Luna responds vehemently, “We do NOT need to do this – at all! Did you see the size of that bloody thing and the kind of damage it did with one breath? I don’t think we can beat it.”

Korm chuckles. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you worried about a fight. Where’s the supremely confident, bloodthirsty Luna we know and love?”

“Listen, you!” Luna growls, “I just don’t like to waste time talking when it’s clear we’re going into a fight anyway. But I don’t go looking for fights we absolutely don’t need to get involved in. Like this one!”

“I disagree,” says Nameless. “And I agree with Gareth, rare as that may be. We may not have as good an opportunity as this one. And while victory is never certain, a good plan should significantly improve our chances. Now here’s what I think we should prepare…”

Luna throws up her hands in disgust. “Fine, fine – we’ll do it! And when you idiots are dead and dragon chow, I’ll be saying ‘I told you so!’”

Unfortunately, Luna really is turning out to be a very good fortune-teller.



* Read that name backwards. No, I have no shame. 

** 88 pts of damage to all PCs (except Nameless, who took less) instantly. Maximized Breath Weapon rocks!

*** Gareth had a swashbuckling card which allows a Diplomacy check in combat as a standard action without the -10 penalty. He rolled godawfully well on Diplomacy and Xagygyrag has substantial interest in dragonmarks, so I figured he earned the party a break. Without that card, with the circumstances the PCs met the dragon under and the fact that they’d gone in there after using much of their resources, it would have been a TPK.


----------



## carborundum

Sweet! I'll have to reread it a few times before bombarding you with more questions of course, and then figure out some sort of stasis effect to keep me going for 15 days


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:
			
		

> This creature is clearly draconic too, but its movements are slow and sluggish, *and its scaly green hide sports gaping holes and ears*. Though the wings are clearly functional and carry it at a good speed, they are ragged and torn, and it seems extremely clumsy in the air. “Zombie!” Nameless says succinctly.




Holes and ears? Man... zombies are strange in your campaign


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> Sweet! I'll have to reread it a few times before bombarding you with more questions of course, and then figure out some sort of stasis effect to keep me going for 15 days




Fire away. And blame the delays on my students. They keep wanting me to grade papers and show up to class for some reason!



			
				Vorput said:
			
		

> Holes and ears? Man... zombies are strange in your campaign



 

Hey, everything's strange in my campaign!

Thanks for the catch, BTW. Poor Rackhir was down with some health issues (he's better now) so I didn't have my trusty proofreader to catch such goofball mistakes.


----------



## javcs

shilsen said:
			
		

> Fire away. And blame the delays on my students. They keep wanting me to grade papers and show up to class for some reason!



That would be the problem there. You assigned them papers instead of presentations or 'self-learning assignments'.


----------



## carborundum

I know that everyone they spoke to warned them it was the most dangerous place to visit, but was that dragon totally out of their league or only because they'd already had a few encounters before that?

Maybe you can't say because they're plotting round two...

I know if I have NPCs saying "Don't go over there!" it's like a red rag to a bull


----------



## shilsen

javcs said:
			
		

> That would be the problem there. You assigned them papers instead of presentations or 'self-learning assignments'.




Damn! Now you tell me! 

I'm going to be getting about 100+ papers on Monday 

And my new girlfriend is killing me 



			
				carborundum said:
			
		

> I know that everyone they spoke to warned them it was the most dangerous place to visit, but was that dragon totally out of their league or only because they'd already had a few encounters before that?




Even if they had been completely prepared, it would have been a very tough fight, with the odds likely on the dragon's side. With them on heavily depleted resources, they had no chance in hell.



> Maybe you can't say because they're plotting round two...




Round two is over. As is usual with PCs, they made some cunning plans, and threw them out the window as soon as initiative was rolled. 



> I know if I have NPCs saying "Don't go over there!" it's like a red rag to a bull




That's fairly true of this bunch too. But they might pay more attention next time. Who knows?

You'll see soon enough, but as noted above, it'll take a little time for me to get the next update up.


----------



## carborundum

Plans thrown out with the dishwater, I mean initiative... Yup. Done that last week.

And my auto-notify for this thread still works perfectly, so I'll be in there as soon as you get round to it 

Good luck with all those papers!


----------



## Furby076

carborundum said:
			
		

> I know that everyone they spoke to warned them it was the most dangerous place to visit, but was that dragon totally out of their league or only because they'd already had a few encounters before that?
> 
> Maybe you can't say because they're plotting round two...
> 
> I know if I have NPCs saying "Don't go over there!" it's like a red rag to a bull




Its like saying "Don't look down". Well DUH we're gonna look down!


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:
			
		

> And my new girlfriend is killing me



You've had like 3 weeks. I want PICTURES!

BTW - to all - The story about Shils new girlfriend makes me proud of my little boy!  Shil gets extra meat at game!


----------



## shilsen

Just collected all my papers today  

Definitely no updates for a week now!


----------



## carborundum

If you mail all your update-hungry readers a few papers they'll be graded in no time


----------



## carborundum

How's it going with the papers, Mister Shilsen Sir?


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> How's it going with the papers, Mister Shilsen Sir?



 Thankfully, all done with. Which means I get to focus on all the Ph.D. work and paperwork in general that I need to do before I can leave here for the summer.

But I've got started on the next update and am halfway through it. We played today and hope to play again next weekend before I leave, in which case I'll have a good 4 sessions of writeups more to handle during the summer.


----------



## shilsen

And here it is, finally, almost exactly one month since the last update.

I appreciate your patience. And I hope it's worth it. Many PCs suffered, to bring you this update 

* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, the Guardian Angels descend cautiously into the center of Khesavuthir, but there is no resistance. They bypass the _wall of dispel magic_ by all entering the _portable hole_, which is carried by Six as he descends the wall of the shaft using his harness’ shadow abilities.

When he reaches the bottom, he sees nothing alarming, though one of the tunnels has a _continual flame_ on the stone above it which was not there before. As he drops lightly to the ground, the black dragon head on the wall speaks again, but Six – unable to understand draconic – has no idea what it says. Dropping the _portable hole_ to the ground, he lets the others out and then attempts to repeat the words he heard.

Nameless listens carefully and then says, “I can’t be sure, but I think it said – ‘Welcome. Follow the lights. Ignore any unlighted turns or tunnels. I await you in the third chamber with knowledge of the seals you seek.’ I think.”

“He’s expecting us,” scowls Luna. “I still think this is a lousy idea!”

“We’ve already discussed this,” says Gareth impatiently, “Let’s go on. Everyone have their long duration protections up?”

The others nod and then follow the paladin, who is now glowing with a silvery light. As they proceed into the tunnel, they quietly discuss the detailed plans that they have made for the encounter with Xagygyrag. “…_forcecage_ to block its path … _earthquake_ may immobilize it for long enough … _fire seed_s will be easy to hit with … remember, teamwork is key …”

As the Angels travel along the tunnel, they encounter more spots where a _continual light_ has been cast, each leading them further into the darkness ahead. They walk for a few minutes along the winding passage, past multiple spots where the tunnel splits up or meets another, each of them with a light to mark the correct route, until they reach a large chamber. 

While superficially shaped like the ones with the slabs, this one is completely empty except for a large pedestal in the middle. Stretching a good dozen feet above the ground, it supports a crystal ball. Unlike those the adventurers are used to, which are normally half a foot in diameter, this one is fully five feet across. The only other object in the chamber is a large dragonshard set into the ceiling directly above it, which radiates of moderate illusion to Nameless’ sight, as does a few feet of stone around it. 

The alienist studies the patterns of the magical aura and finally opines, “I think that is what is called a lair ward, designed to create a magical effect in the chamber it is in. I believe this one prevents _scrying_ into this chamber, so if the user of the crystal ball is detected, then he cannot be scried on in return.”

“Nice!” says Luna, having perked up considerably at the information. “Can we take it?”

“No. Removing a lair ward after it has been attached will destroy it.”

“Bummer. At least we can take this,” says Luna, moving forward as her form shifts and grows drastically, until a huge tendriculos stands – or, more precisely, rolls forward – where she once was. She reaches out with a giant tentacle and casually picks up the heavy crystal ball.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” says Nameless quickly.

“Huh? Why can’t we take it?”

“Because if we have to retreat or flee, the dragon is really going to be pissed off when it discovers you stole from it, and will come after us.”

Though expressions are difficult to make out on a tendriculos, Luna’s body language suggests exasperation, as she waves her tentacles. “It can’t find us without the crystal ball. _Hello!_”

Any possible response from Nameless is drowned out by metallic chuckles from Six and the louder sound of Korm leaning against the wall as he guffaws hysterically. Luna waves a tentacle at them, lifts the crystal ball and then simply swallows it. 

Nameless stares at her and then slaps his forehead with his own tentacle, before sighing. “All right. Let’s go on. And I just hope your stomach acid doesn’t dissolve that thing.” He pauses. “No, come to think of it, I don’t.”

The Angels continue onwards, with significantly more cheerfulness and banter than they had previously, and eventually reach another chamber. This one is gigantic, dwarfing the previous one, and contains significantly more. Besides another lair ward on the ceiling, it has a large bowl-like depression in the center of the floor and thirteen large flat spaces cut into the walls, ranging from a couple of feet in length and height to thirty feet long and twenty feet high. A large groove runs from each space to the depression, and many of the grooves and the depression have flecks of what appeared to be dried blood in them. Set into the wall, one between each pair of indentations, are thirteen large metal contraptions, each with a massive metal ring set into the walls, apparently designed to rotate and swivel, with a huge dragonshard above each. 

“Those remind me of the observatory of that crazy dragon Tyrass in Xen’drik,” says Luna, pointing at objects, “The one in the tower that you were all too scared to come and look at with me.” She adds to Korm, “I flew up there alone as a bird, but they wouldn’t come along, though I was sure it was safe.”

“Strange!” deadpans the Gatekeeper, “I can’t see why that wouldn’t be completely reassuring.”

“It reminds me of the necromantic laboratory in the Emerald Claw temple,” points out Six, and Gareth nods. “Me too,” says the paladin, “But it doesn’t look like any of this is helpful for us. Unless you can think of something, Nameless?”

The alienist shakes his head. “It’s very heavily magical,” he begins, before adding hastily, “But removing it will simply destroy it. It’s similar to an _orrery of the planes_, an object for achieving planar effects, but much more powerful. Each dragonshard has the name of a plane carved into it, see? The rings are clearly designed to attune to a certain plane, but precisely what effect doing so has I’m not certain of. I’d like to study it further, but we don’t have time right now. If we slay this dragon, then we can.”

“Planar attunement, eh? And here I thought it was an elaborate gambling machine,” quips Korm.

“Any room with Luna in it is an elaborate gambling machine,” says Nameless dryly, before heading for one of the three exits, which glows with a familiar light. 

Again, a number of tunnels lead into the darkness beyond, the lights leading them on in a specific direction. Eventually, some sixty feet ahead of them at the limit of their darkvision, the Angels see the passage open into a large chamber. They hesitate for a moment and then Six says, “I’ll go check it out.” As the warforged moves up stealthily, wrapping the shadows which arise from his harness around him in a concealing cloak, the others begin to cast some of their shorter duration spells, adding to the already large number of protections in existence.

Reaching the entrance, Six looks in to see that it is almost as large as the last chamber, a good sixty feet across, and has two more tunnels leading out of it. There are the remnants of some cracked and broken stone structures on the floor to indicate that the room once contained something, but that is all. Six carefully scans the area, counting on his preternaturally keen sight to reveal anything hidden, perchance a giant invisible dragon, but sees nothing. Finally, he looks back and says, “I don’t see anything in the room.” 

“Are you certain?” asks Korm, “Maybe there is…”

And then a voice interrupts, deep and low, crackling with power and hungry with anticipation, emerging from the tunnel behind the Angels, which they have just walked through. “What,” it hisses, “Are you waiting for?”

As they spin around, the adventurers see two huge eyes in the darkness, gleaming with the same blue light which signify Nameless’ magical vision. And the alienist’s _arcane sight_ reveals more, over a dozen magical auras limning a gargantuan shape which advances at great speed around the turn in the tunnel, nearly a hundred feet behind them. Though it is still beyond the range of his sight, there is no mistaking the voice or the scrape of folded wings against the tunnel ceiling over twenty feet overhead or the clatter – if an unexpectedly metallic one – of giant claws against the stone. Xagygyrag, ancient and deadly protector of Khesavuthir, is upon them.

Despite their hours of discussion and preparation for this moment, the Angels are still caught off guard by the sudden attack from the rear, and even though their magical protections ward off the wave of supernatural terror that washes outwards from the advancing wyrm, they all feel a frisson of natural fear at the impending battle. And in that moment of surprise and fear, all of the detailed plans and supposed teamwork are temporarily and fatally forgotten.

“Back into the room!” shouts Six, even as Nameless says, “We need to hold it in the tunnel!” As they dither, Gareth – magically enhanced to react unusually quickly – strides forward towards the dragon, speaking the words of another spell. Six also hurries forward, triggering his wand to _haste_ the group and flipping his chain to a ready position. Seeing both move, Korm also speaks the words of a protective spell and rushes forward. Behind them, Nameless decides to prepare himself to best affect the dragon and swiftly casts an _assay resistance_, before calling on the powers of his aberrant dragonmark. Flesh parts and eyes pop into existence all over his body, as a surge of power flows from his dragonmark across the alienist’s form. 

But most of the Angels are reacting without considering or fully understanding what each is planning. Gareth, only intending to advance close enough to see the dragon and expecting Nameless to drop a _forcecage_ ahead of him, comes to a halt. Not expecting this and already _haste_d, Korm barrels right by him. “Wait, Korm! Stop!” cries the paladin and reflexively hurries after him, and when the Gatekeeeper skids to a stop, he is right beside him. Nameless, busy making his transformation, has no time for creating the planned-for barrier before them. And Gareth and Korm, standing next to each other, take up just enough of the wide passage that Luna’s huge shape, moving slowest of all, cannot reach the front rank. The tendriculos stops in confusion, and then – at a shouted command from Nameless – casts a _greater dispel_ to strip away the dragon’s protections. An instant later, a magical ring on her tentacle flashes gently as it counters her own spell, reflected back on her by the dragon’s _spell turning_. 

Completely ignoring her, Xagygyrag looms over the two warriors before him, much closer than the Angels’ forgotten plans had intended. The Angels have a moment to see that things have changed, with a red gem larger than a man’s head embedded in his chest, and more ominously, a metallic set of scythelike claws extending over the natural ones on his forelimbs, before he speaks. The gleaming eyes set deep in his skull-like head rove over them and the dragon laughs, acid dripping from his jaws. “Did you really think your feeble _protection from energy_ and _resist energy_ spells would save you?”

_Sh*t!_ Greater arcane sight!_ He knows what protections we have_, thinks Nameless, even as he replies dryly, “No, not really, but it’s what we had.” Even before he completes the sentence, the dragon’s huge neck arches back, as it inhales. But instead of breathing, it speaks the words of a spell, one unfamiliar to its enemies. And then it leans forward and exhales.

The Angels are layered with magical spells to protect against the dragon’s acidic breath, and some have also protected themselves against fire and electricity, just in case their own spells strike them. But none of these are of any avail. A deadly tempest of cold and ice washes over them, scouring flesh more effectively than the most powerful blizzards of the Frostfell can. 

Only the fact that the Angels are no longer normal mortals keeps them on their feet, but all are seriously damaged, Nameless almost being out on his feet. And if this freezing attack were not surprise enough, the supernatural cold of the dragon’s breath does not dissipate, clinging firmly to the flesh of those affected, its cold continuing to sap their energy with every second. Though the flakes of ice are slowly fading, it is clear that none of the Angels will survive until they are fully gone. Xagygyrag laughs again, this time at the sight of his foes’ ravaged bodies and their surprised and worried expressions. “Do you want to surrender now?”


----------



## shilsen

“Maybe he’s right,” says Six, scraping uselessly at the ice caking the metal and wood of his form as painfully as his allies’ flesh.

“No!” snaps Nameless, through frozen and cracked lips, “This is the only chance we’ll have! Luna, I need healing and protection! Everyone, keep attacking – don’t let him escape!” The alienist gestures and a lambent green beam leaps from his tentacle to strike the dragon, expanding instantly into a net of shimmering strands that cover its body.

Xagygyrag throws back his head and roars with laughter. “_Dimensional anchor?_ So be it!” It gestures and casts in turn, replicating Nameless’ spell with one which leaves the alienist similarly unable to use _teleportation_ and other planar magic to escape.

Korm and Luna, meanwhile, have been hurriedly casting healing spells and protection from cold on themselves and their allies, somewhat mitigating the wounds they have taken and those that the clinging frost is inflicting. Gareth, counting on them to protect him, shouts, “For the Silver Flame!” and unleashes a flurry of blows, chopping with the Endless Blade at the giant form before him. The dragon’s scaly hide, thickened by centuries of age and further protected by layers of magical enchantment, resists most of his assault, but Gareth has imbued himself with more magical might than ever, augmented by Nameless’ magic. A large scale, battered and bent by two previous blows, cracks and splits, and the Blade sinks into the flesh beneath.

Immediately, gouts of dark blood sprays from the wound, splashing over Gareth’s metal hand and his armored arm. As the blood hits, it sizzles and small tendrils of smoke arise. Luckily, the spells woven around the paladin protect him and the acidic blood has no real effect. Ignoring it, Gareth shouts, “Six – get on the other side! We need some help here!”

Swearing under his breath, Six dashes forward, actually passing not just between Gareth and Korm but between the tree-like legs of the dragon. Rolling adroitly underneath it, he glances at the apparently softer underbelly and strikes upwards. The spiked chain, further enchanted today by Nameless, hits – and then bounces off as if he had attempted to attack an adamantine wall. _Sh*t!_ Not slackening his momentum, the warforged continues forward, spinning away form and past the rear leg which attempts to blindly step on him, and emerging at the dragon’s rear. “Nameless, Luna!” he calls back, “Get its protections off! I can’t hit it!”

Korm, switching from spells to his sword, quickly discovers that he has the same problem. Even his meteoric blade clangs near uselessly against the dragon’s hide. With only Gareth seemingly able to hurt the dragon, it’s clear that the Angels are in very big trouble.

And things quickly get worse. As Luna and Nameless strike their foe with more _greater dispel_s, either the dragon’s great spellcasting ability or sheer bad luck renders them nearly ineffectual, the progressively more and more disgusted alienist seeing only a single aura flicker out with each casting. Xagygyrag remains largely protected from his foes, and with only one enemy evidently posing any kind of an immediate threat, he can focus purely on Gareth.

The paladin is layered in magical enchantments too, garbed from head to foot in enchanted steel, and beneath them lies inhuman flesh, modified by Mordain’s ancient skills. But none of these can fully withstand the tempest of fangs and claws that descends upon him. Claws the size of his forearm smash against his form, staggering him and bruising bones even if they cannot penetrate his armor, and then giant fangs slam shut around him. Gareth struggles desperately, but there is no way he could have pulled free, only a _freedom of movement_ provided earlier by Luna causing a disappointed Xagygyrag to lift his head without the paladin in his mouth. But the mere seconds of contact and enough to render Gareth, his ribs broken and an arm crushed, near-dead. He collapses to the ground, leaking blood from every opening in his armor. 

Xagygyrag grins in triumph and turns his snakelike head, ignoring the others and gazing behind him. Six, feeling the fading cold still leeching away his life, has just pulled out a healing wand when he meets the dragon’s gaze. The warforged tries to backpedal hurriedly, but he is too close and the gigantic wyrm is too large. Before he can retreat far enough, the huge tail lashes out. It catches Six right in the middle of his torso and he flies backwards like a discarded toy flung by a child, slamming into the tunnel wall. The warforged hits with a sickening thump and then clatters unmoving to the ground, his torso dented and bent.

“Luna! You have to help Six! And Gareth!” shouts Nameless, casting another _greater dispel_ and almost kicking himself in frustration as a single aura flickers out, leaving a number of protective abjurations still on the dragon.* 

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” snarls the druid, trying to decide what to do. She sees Korm reaching hurriedly for the paladin, but the dragon is turning back towards them. Deciding to create as much of a distraction as she can, Luna calls down an empowered _flame strike_ on the dragon. This time, thanks to her _assay resistance_, the penetrates its resistance, and even more luckily, the spell Nameless had just _dispel_led was one that protected against fire. The column of fire hammers down on Xagygyrag’s back, and though it does not seriously incommode him, he hisses in pain. 

_Eat that, assh*le!_ Luna follows up with a swift summoning and suddenly there is a unicorn standing over Six. Its intelligent equine eyes look around in surprise at the scene. Then, as Luna shouts, “Heal him! And keep doing so,” it lowers its head and touches its horn to Six’s side. Positive energy flows into him, and though his artificial form is less affected than his companions’ flesh would be, it is barely enough. The fading glow in his orbs springs back to life and he looks up confusedly for a moment, before leaping adroitly to his feet. Then he stumbles with weakness and backs away.

Korm has seized the momentary distraction caused by Luna’s spell to channel a _heal_ into Gareth and wipe away all his injuries, and as Xagygyrag turns his attention fully back to those before him, the paladin leaps forward and strikes again, Blade gleaming with argent light as he calls on the Silver Flame to aid his hand. Blood spurts from the dragon’s leg and he growls, though seemingly more in irritation than pain. “You are _persistent_! But I had hoped I had not killed you. At least not yet.” 

The dragon shuffles slightly sideways, raising a taloned forelimb negligently to block a strike and then turns the motion into a strange gesture. Dipping a talon in the blood running down his leg, he flings it at Gareth, while speaking a quick arcane word. The drops of blood gleam darkly and run together to form a liquid bolt. As it strikes the paladin, it seems to sink into him and disappear. Though there is no pain or wound, Gareth feels the cold touch of negative energy seeping into him, draining him. A pair of his few remaining spells fade from his weakened mind.

As he stumbles at the unexpected attack, Xagygyrag growls, “And this time, stay down!” before again leaping on him. Newly healed flesh rips and tears under the assault and Gareth reels again, close to unconsciousness. Korm, reaching hurriedly for him with another spell, is driven back by a slashing claw that rips his arm open. But before the dragon can take Gareth to the ground, a large green tentacle slaps against his back, channeling another _heal_ into him and restoring him, though the taint of the negative energy remains. 

The dragon growls at the tendriculos, too far away for him to reach with Korm and Gareth in the way. “I’ll deal with you later!” Then, as the rejuvenated Gareth slashes away at him again, he snarls, evidently more from frustration at the tiny creature continuing to bother him than because the small wounds the paladin inflicts seriously incommode him. Again Xagygyrag slashes into Gareth, only to be forestalled one more time by Korm _heal_ing the paladin.

“Very well,” roars the dragon. “You die first!” Xagygyrag turns on the Gatekeeper instead, ripping and tearing. While his magical spells and items protect Korm almost as well as Gareth’s armor, they do not protect his vitals as well as the enchanted full-plate does, and the strange scythe-like metal claws the dragon wears almost disembowel him. The Gatekeeper collapses in a pool of gore, but as the dragon brings its claws down in a killing blow, a yellowish-green _cocoon_ of force erupts into life around him, deflecting the blow. 

The dragon frowns down and then mutters, “So that was the _contingency_? Clever!”

With Korm unconscious and Gareth alone facing the dragon, the partly healed Six on the opposing side causing so little a threat that he is essentially ignored,  Nameless decides that perhaps a retreat is in order. Or at least something to buy them a few moments to regroup. He gestures and casts, leveling one of his most powerful spells at the dragon. There is a faint flickering in the air as the gateway to an extraplanar _maze_ opens up behind Xagygyrag, expanding swiftly around his gigantic form. And then, as it touches his scales, it fades away, foiled by his innate resistance to magic.** 

Nameless’ eyes bulge with frustration and Xagygyrag laughs cruelly at his expression. “Not good enough, mage!” Then he looks down and again flings more of his own enchanted blood at Gareth, further draining the paladin, before casually backhanding him into the passage wall. As he staggers, Luna desperately reaches out and channels another _heal_ into Gareth, before calling, “That’s my last one! We need to get out!”

Korm, the healing power of his _cocoon_ having revived him too, looks out through it at the scene and adds his voice in support. “We need to get out, Nameless!” Six shouts too, “I can get out myself! Go!”

Nameless nods and then casts a _wall of force_ which blocks off the corridor, putting the dragon (and Six) on one side, and the Angels on the other. 

For precisely two seconds, before Xagygyrag laughs and _disintegrate_s the _wall_. “You leave when I say so. And I prefer a _wall_ here!” He gestures and another one appears, but this time behind Korm and Gareth, separating Luna and Nameless from the others.

As it does so, a desperate Gareth once more leaps to the attack, praying for a miracle. And for a moment, some luck is on the Angels’ side. Just as the paladin moves in, Korm (now having emerged from the _cocoon_) brings down an empowered _flame strike_ on the dragon. This one too penetrates his spell resistance and, as he winces and reflexively bends forward, Gareth strikes. Drained by his foe’s magic, the paladin has little left, but he can still call on some of the resources of the Silver Flame and he does so again, smiting the dragon with all his might. The Endless Blame coruscates with silver fire as it comes down, striking perfectly at the weak spot between two huge scales on the dragon’s chest. Draconic flesh parts and blood gushes forth, and Gareth’s eyes light up with hope in the second before his sword sinks hilt-deep in Xagygyrag’s chest.

And then the hope dies, as the magical gem in the dragon’s chest flares and the sword stops as if it had hit a stone wall, rebounding to leave only a shallow wound***. 

Xagygyrag looks down and smiles broadly, the revealed fangs making his head look even more like a skull. “Still not good enough.” And then he casts a spell, _heal_ing the majority of the damage he has taken.

When Nameless, already boiling over with anger and frustration at his personal lack of effectiveness in this battle, sees the dragon do this and then loom over Gareth and Korm, he can take no more. “Stop!” he shouts, “We will surrender and let you take him,” he points at Gareth, “And me, if you let the others go! We are the dragonmarked ones, not they!”

Luna turns to stare down at him. “What are you doing?”

“Saving Korm and Six, and maybe you,” hisses Nameless. “I don’t know if you can leave, and if you can’t, we’re all dead.”

Xagygyrag has paused at the words and the others halt uncertainly too, waiting to see his response. Then the dragon smiles again and nods. “Agreed.” His long neck snakes upwards and he looks down at Gareth and Korm, nostrils flaring. “What say you? Don’t make me hold my breath!”

Gareth looks up as the dragon inhales, ready to breathe, his mind awhirl as he attempts to think of other options. But there is nothing else he can think of than to follow Nameless’ lead. “Very well.” He drops heavily to a knee, sets the Endless Blade point-first against the ground and his head against the hilt, closes his eyes and begins to pray.

Xagygyrag’s smile broadens and he glances at Nameless. “Do not attempt to leave!” Then he reaches down, picking up the still praying Gareth in his jaws and walks away, striding to the turn in the corner and around it.


* Poor Rackhir had the most amazing run of bad rolling. He cast three targeted _greater dispel_ s, which meant he rolled nearly thirty times, where he needed to roll a 13 or higher to succeed. He succeeded on something like five checks. And cracked a 10 a total of eight times.

** More lousy rolling from Rackhir. Needed a 7 or higher and failed it.

*** Moderate fortification for the win!


----------



## carborundum

They've certainly met their match here! Awesomeness abounds and well worth the wait ... but I can't believe you've suckerpunched us again with the cliffhanger 

YARGGHHH!!


----------



## Vorput

Surrendering has never ended well when my PCs try it...

Good Luck GAs! :/


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> Surrendering has never ended well when my PCs try it...
> 
> Good Luck GAs! :/




It wasn't so much of a surrender, more a bribing of the dragon to let the remaining PCs go. We just happened to be bribing him with the lives of Gareth and Nameless. It only cared about the dragonmarked characters and most of the group had proven to be of little threat to the dragon. So it's not like he was feeling endangered by us.

Nameless, Six and Luna could actually have gotten away on their own. Gareth was toast. Korm who was trapped with the dragon, was the wildcard since I was uncertain if he could escape, but Gareth's player and I had been the ones doing most of the plotting and planning for the attack. Six and Luna's players had been opposed to it (Korm's player was otherwise occupied and didn't really have an opinion). So I figured if anyone was going to suffer for the SNAFU, it should be Gareth and Nameless. Conveniently they were the only ones the dragon was interested in anyway.

Gareth's player still wants to go back and tangle with the dragon again...


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> They've certainly met their match here! Awesomeness abounds and well worth the wait ... but I can't believe you've suckerpunched us again with the cliffhanger
> 
> YARGGHHH!!



 Fine, fine - no more cliffhangers!

Maybe.

* * * * * * * * * *
Xagygyrag proceeds around the corner with Gareth, moving surprisingly fast for a creature of his size. He takes the first side turning, one which the Angels had passed by on their way to the area where the battle occurred, and emerges into a dark chamber. This one is smaller than some of the others, and has two rows of what must be shelves placed around the circumference, beginning some fifteen feet above the ground. Gareth sees objects in many of them – scroll tubes, boxes, rods, etc.

Not that he has much leisure to consider them, since Xagygyrag places him on the ground with surprising gentleness and reaches up to pick up a rod. The dragon stares at him for a moment, anticipation burning in the huge eyes, and says, “Do not try to resist!” Then he makes a quick arcane gesture, places the rod against Gareth's chest and says a word. And everything goes black.

Meanwhile, the others are still in the tunnel where the battle occurred, Nameless and Luna and Six on one side of the _wall of force_ and Korm on the other. 

“Come on over to this side, Korm!” Luna says hurriedly, “We all need to get out.”

“Not me,” says Nameless, shaking his head firmly. “I am staying, as I promised. But you can take these.” Removing the _portable hole_ from a pouch, he spreads it open on the floor and begins to place his valuable items inside it.

As Luna gapes at him, Six says thoughtfully, “Actually, I intend to stay and talk to the dragon too.”

The tendriculos shrinks down into Luna’s normal shifter form, leaving her standing there next to the giant crystal ball that she had swallowed. “Are you two insane?!”

“Perhaps,” Nameless smiles slightly, but doesn’t pause in his actions. “But I live up to my end of a bargain.”

“Not to a giant dragon that’ll probably eat you! And I don’t think Six should stay either!” Luna protests. “Listen, this is nuts. I’m getting out of here post-haste, before he starts looking for his crystal ball.” She carefully rolls the item into the _portable hole_ and adds, “And if you guys aren’t coming with me and I can’t get out magically, I’m turning into the smallest, fastest, flying thing I can and going!”

Korm, having used a spell to shape the stone under the _wall of force_ and climb under, brushes himself of and nods. “I agree. I’m leaving too.” He frowns. “But we do need that information, and we’ve just lost a lot here. Six, are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” nods the warforged. _I think._

“All right,” says Korm. “Best of luck. Luna, we can leave together. Get in the _portable hole_ and I’ll transport us to the house in Karrnath. Six, when you get out, meet us there.”

“_If_ you get out,” says Luna, darkly, but she doesn’t argue, jumping into the _hole_ as Korm suggested. The Gateekeeper picks up and folds the magical cloth, before sliding it into his pocket. He opens his mouth to say something, and then Xagygyrag walks sinuously around the corner ahead. Gareth is not with him, but he carries a large rod, looking like a toothpick in the grasp of his left forelimb. Nameless detects multiple magical auras on it, and a few more on the dragon, who has evidently raised some more magical defenses.

“Ah!” the dragon smiles, revealing all his fangs, “I thought you might not be here when I return.” He says a word and the _wall of force_ fades away. As he walks forward, Xagygyrag asks, “Are the rest of you waiting to see your comrade leave? Or do you wish to stay too?”

As the dragon strides forward, Korm says simply, “Not me!” and casts a spell. The Gatekeeper sinks into the ground instantly and disappears, the powerful druidic magic* transporting him instantly through the earth towards his destination.

If he were human, Six would take a deep breath. Instead, he sets his shoulders and steps forward to ask, “Can you tell me anything about the dimensional seals? How to make them, how they work, etc.?” Xagygyrag stops and considers him for a moment, and then his giant bulk begins to shake. Luckily, it is with amusement, and a few seconds later, once the booming laughter has ended, he says, “You amuse me, little construct, who not only dare remain but question me so. Yes, I know of the seals. This is Khesavuthir, the fount of knowledge. And where oaths are sworn and forever bound in blood. What do you offer me for this knowledge? Yourself?”

_Hmm – bargaining? It's probably a gnome. Gah!_ Six replies, “Well, I was hoping something I have discovered would be of interest to you.” He produces a drawing and displays it. “Here is the sign that appeared above the Mournland when the seed to Xoriat sprouted. Perhaps that interests you, as a guardian of knowledge? As for oaths, I would like to know what I am getting into, present situation notwithstanding. Also, I don’t have actual blood, if that makes a difference.”

Xagygyrag flashes another fanged smile. “Lacking actual blood is not a problem. As we recently established,” a huge claw indicates the spot where Six had lain unconscious barely over a minute ago, where a large patch of alchemical fluid still lies, “I can find ways to extract what I need. As for that sign,” he snorts, causing a small spray of acid, “I know of it already. The eyes of Khesavuthir are in many places – including your land. You will need to offer me more for the information you want. I presume you have no wish to die here, since you must want to hold back Xoriat with the knowledge of the seals. But perhaps you can offer me something else. And if we come to an agreement we will swear binding oaths that neither of us shall renege on our bargain. Do you have anything to offer? And even if you do, how do you plan to leave here?”

“Well,” says Six, “I can do some term of service. I have a harness made by the quori and reworked by Mordain the Fleshweaver that won’t come off, which could be of interest to you. Perhaps you want something outside this area I could go get. As for leaving, back the way I came in looks good. I could go back to where we teleported in to this area and teleport out.” 

The dragon does not reply, clearly waiting for him to continue, so Six does. “I was wondering, for the sacrifice, are you going to kill them? If so, I would like to recover the bodies. And what’s the sacrifice for? Whatever you decide to do with your sacrifices, I would be careful in the handling. We have been worked over by various entities and changed in subtle ways. All of us have been given changes that don’t go away even in an _antimagic field_, and one of those is a _programmed amnesia_ that has a puzzling quality. Our personality traits were heightened so we would be more reactive in ways we are already. And other things that might cause problems for you.”

Xagygyrag smiles again. He begins to speak and while doing so, walks forward towards Nameless, who has been listening without a word. “Thank you for the warning. There will be no problem for me. Modifications or no, your friends bear within them the blood of the dragonmarked, and there is rare power in that. I shall harvest and make fine use of it. Know this, little metal man, all forces in this world eventually, _always_, come down to blood."

Reaching Nameless, the dragon looks down and addresses him in turn. “This will not hurt.” He touches the rod to the alienist’s chest and Nameless crumples over. Xagygyrag scoops him up and turns his attention back to Six. “I shall tell you what to do with the seals. I would not have the dragonmarked pass from this world. They are too valuable. And I will spare you to carry the knowledge back to your people. Still, a bargain must be made and you offer me little in return.” 

He gestures at the large room behind Six. “Go wait in there and decide what valuables you are willing to offer me. I have seen much magic on you and your allies.” He glances down at Nameless and grimaces slightly. “Though I see this one has disposed of much of what he had. Well, no matter – the bargain was for him. But go now into that chamber, remove what you will leave, and wait. I shall return with the knowledge you desire.” Xagygyrag adds, the tone of warning evident in his voice, “Wait there and do _not_ go elsewhere.”

Six proceeds into the large chamber, which is – as he had seen before – completely empty, except for a couple of tunnels leading away from it. After a few minutes, a dark mass appears at the end of one and makes its way forward, as Xagygyrag enters the room. 

There is a muffled voice from somewhere in the vicinity of the gargantuan dragon's head, and its source becomes apparent as he opens his mouth and spits something onto the ground in front of Six. The object hits the ground with a metallic clank attended by a soft squishing sound, followed by a now audible shout of “Hey!” 

The warforged sees that it is the Endless Blade, still attached to Gareth’s metal hand. And still extending from the back of the hand is most of the paladin’s arm, ending midway between elbow and shoulder in a jagged stump of ragged flesh and protruding bone. Fresh blood still drips from the amputated appendage as it hits the ground.

“Take this thing with you,” says Xagygyrag, “Its chattering irritates me.”

“Six! You ...,” begins the sword excitably, and the dragon growls, “Quiet! Or I shall change my mind!” The sword instantly falls silent. Xagygyrag glares at it, and when certain it will not speak, turns to the warforged. “Place your offerings on the ground before me.”

“Very well,” says Six. “But first, I’d like to preserve this.” He produces a scroll of _gentle repose_ on the stump, while the dragon watches. Then he says, “Well, I have an adamantine fist as an item. I can tell you of the daelkyr lord and his brother that started this mess. I can go retrieve an item or information you might want.” _Hopefully the last_.

“An adamantine fist?” says Xagygyrag disdainfully, “That sounds like it would be of little interest. Maybe I should keep the sword after all.” He looks thoughtfully at the Endless Blade, which apparently has enough judgement not to say anything aloud, though Six thinks he hears a faint “Oh f*ck! Oh f*ck! Oh f*ck!”

Finally, the dragon looks back to Six. “And unless you know something about the daelkyr and his brother that your companions do not, I will know it very soon through the sacrifices. Especially of the tentacled one.”

He raises a claw and scratches thoughtfully at the base of the large horns on his head, and then says with finality, “I will choose. Remove all the magic that you own and place it before me. And empty that _haversack_. It seems that you have only a pittance, but I did say I would bargain with you, so I shall keep my word – unless I find you to possess absolutely nothing of value.”

_Damn!_ Six slowly removes the _haversack_ saying, “This scorpion chain is the most expensive item I have. The _haversack_ has scrolls, one of which is of the sixth valence – a _word of recall_. I would like to keep that one to leave via. The bulk of the rest are below fourth.” Six riffles through the scrolls, and then says, trying to sound a little plaintive. “You already have the paladin’s stuff – which, as you can see, is four or five times as much as I have. Those folks treated me badly. Sometimes I can’t understand why I’m still here. Oh yeah, must be the _programmed amnesia_. Which brings me back to what I can offer – to be the hand to stop the Xoriat invasion and prevent the corruption of the dragonmarks. If that isn’t enough, please accept our previous actions as the entertainment it was and I’ll be going.” _Please?_


* Master Earth, from the Spell Compendium


----------



## shilsen

Xagygyrag smiles an amused smile. “You can leave when I say so.” He extends a claw for the _haversack_, and taking it, casts a spell. The _haversack_ opens and its contents begin to appear of their own accord, the scrolls unrolling themselves in mid-air before the dragon as they are opened one by one. He looks at each, squinting slightly at the comparatively tiny writing, and then the scrolls neatly reroll themselves and descend to form a growing pile beside him.

Finally, once all the contents have been examined and considered, the dragon looks back at Six. He sniffs a little dismissively and says, “Not particularly valuable, but I will take them. Being able to avoid having to scribe minor spells is a blessing, and I used some valuable ones before our little encounter earlier. But you can keep this one.” The _word of recall_ scroll floats over into Six’s hand. The others rise and settle back into the _haversack_. 

Xagygyrag speaks the words of another spell and a horizontal line of light, amber in color, appears beside him. The light expands swiftly, creating a square six feet long and wide. He casually tosses the _haversack_ at the light, which it passes through and disappears, as if it were a portal. The dragon then reaches into the light, and with some awkwardness, produces a stone slab half as long and wide as the doorway of light. Arcane symbols cover its surface, though Six cannot recognize them. 

Xagygyrag places the stone slab on the floor of the chamber between Six and himself, and says, “And here we shall make our bargain. Here is my end of it.” The dragon reaches up and scrapes a claw against his shoulder – hard. There is the sound of a scale bending and breaking, and a splash of blood appears with an acidic sizzle. Showing no discomfort at the self-inflicted wound, Xagygyrag lets some of the blood run over his claw and says, his voice taking on a booming and solemn quality, “I, Xagygyrag, here swear to give this creature knowledge of the dimensional seals, in return for the magical items it has given me. After giving it this knowledge, I shall let it go free, making no attempt to harm it, as long as it leaves forthwith and does not return to Khesavuthir.”

With that said, he flicks his blood onto the slab. The heavy drops sink instantly into the stone like water into sand, and the arcane symbols flash and glow with light. “Your turn,” the dragon says to Six. “Say the following – I, whatever your name is, here swear to give Xagygyrag, protector of Khesavuthir, spell scrolls and a magical container in return for knowledge of the dimensional seals. After gaining this knowledge, I shall leave here forthwith and shall not return to Khesavuthir.” He raises a still bloodied claw. “But before saying it, produce some of the fluid that counts for blood with you. If you prefer, I can extract it. After making the oath, spill your blood on the slab.”

Six says quickly, “I can produce the fluid myself. But do you want to amend that oath with ‘...unless invited back by or to save the protector of Khesavuthir’?” 

Xagygyrag stares for a second and then throws back his head as he emits another thunderous guffaw. “Not necessary. I doubt you will be able to return, and the protector of Khesavuthir would _not_ ever need saving by such as you.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Though you would need saving from me if you and your companions returned here again. Assuming you personally survived the effects of thus breaking the oath. Which, before you ask, I do not intend to share.”

Six does not argue and simply nods. Producing a dagger, he cuts one of the softer, connective tissues of his body and dribbles a few drops of the alchemical fluid that runs through it onto the slab. The arcane symbols flash and glow again, and as they fade, Six feels a sensation of warmth on the spot where he obtained the fluid. Looking down, he can see a faint sigil etched in that spot. And now that he is close enough, he realizes that many such sigils, perhaps hundreds, mark the scales of Xagygyrag.

The dragon nods, its expression pleased, as it picks up the slab and pushes it back through the extradimensional portal still floating beside it. Then it looks back down to Six and says, “Listen carefully now, for here is the lore you seek. The dimensional seals, like all great magic in this world, are about blood and the life force which flows in all things. Whether it be the blood of a single insignificant creature – such as yourself – or that which the progenitor wyrm Siberys bled into the skies to form the Ring of Siberys, blood contains some of the life and power of its owner. The seals draw upon the blood and life of Eberron itself, and some of Khyber and Siberys, to achieve their binding power. But in moments of great need, they can use more blood – more life – to achieve greater things.”

Xagygyrag’s voice takes on a slightly reverent tone, as he continues. “When creatures die, their energies remain behind and slowly dissipate and become one with the ambient energy of the universe. That is the power which much magic, especially necromancy, draws upon. When many – thousands, or perhaps tens of thousands – die in quick and close conjunction, as occurred in the land your people call the Mournland, huge magical power is unleashed. Or at least the potential for huge magical power. If such an event occurs, then the dimensional seals can harness that power to achieve much greater bindings – even such as binding away Xoriat from Eberron.”

“When Xoriat first came to this world, the Gatekeepers taught by Vvaarak knew of this, and so, when the time was right, they drew on the blood and lives spilled by the Dhakaani in defense of Khorvaire. And through that sacrifice, they bound shut the doors between this world and Xoriat.” The dragon smirks slightly. “Why do you think the Gatekeepers took decades to act, while the Daelkyr war raged across your world and untold thousands died? Because there was not enough blood to fuel the great binding. And so they waited until enough was spilled, letting the unknowing goblinoids be slaughtered and broken by Xoriat.”

“And now,” he continues with evident relish, “You come to such a moment again. So return to Khorvaire, little warforged, and wait for death to spread across your land. And know this too. Because this is magic of Eberron, the blood – and the deaths – must be of this world, and the more intimately connected to this world the better. The deaths of a hundred soldiers of Xoriat would not provide the power that a single dead human – or warforged – can provide. And when the time is right, use the seals again. Just make sure that there is enough death – and blood – for your purposes.”

Xagygyrag smiles viciously. “Any questions?”

_Lots! But some I’m not bringing up now!_ “Yes,” says Six politely, “You wouldn’t have a scheme about how to actually do this, would you? Also, can the _word of recall_ scroll be used from here?” _And are you sure you are not a gnome?_

Xagygyrag smiles. “The forces of Xoriat walk your lands already. I think there will be blood enough. Of course, you will need to ensure that enough blood has been spilt, so you may have to wait a while. And there are issues of timing. Not only will you need someone at each seal – or as many as possible – to activate them at once, but the moment must be propitious. The more full moons – or new moons, but not both – at once the better, but I am not quite sure how many you would need.” He raises a claw to scratch at a horn, almost musing aloud to himself, “The time when Mabar, the plane of Endless Night, is coterminous with ours would be a perfect time. And luckily for you, though that occurs for only three dark nights once every five years, it will happen within a few months.” 

The dragon focuses again on Six and flexes his great shoulders in what might be a draconic shrug. “The seals are not a subject I am particularly interested in. But my divinations last night revealed your interest in them, so I did some checking, in case it became relevant. And now you know what you came here for. You may depart. Your scroll will work here.”

“Thank you. May I take a moment to write it all down? And, if you will allow, do a quick sketch of you?” As Xagygyrag cocks his head, Six quickly adds, “I am an amateur sculptor and making one of your awesome form would be an honor.”

The dragon sighs. “Very well. You and your companions have provided more amusement than I have had in a decade. But be swift.”

“I will,” says Six, hastily producing pen and parchment.

*. . .*

A few minutes later, in the basement of the ruin at the center of the land the Angels were gifted in Karrnath, a worried Luna and Korm see Six appear.

“What happened?” asks Luna, hurrying to him. “Are you okay? Any idea what happened to the others?” She looks at the wrapped object in his hand, the Endless Blade protruding from one end. “What’s that?”

Six unwraps it, even as the Blade starts babbling about what the dragon did to Gareth. “This.”

“Oh … sh*t! Did it kill him?”

“No,” says the Endless Blade, slowing down in its babbling. “But it made him unconscious and then got all his armor off with a spell and then I was talking and asking it not to kill him and explaining how he’s not a bad guy even if he’s sometimes an idiot and how we could help it and it was all a big mistake and …,” it hesitates for a couple of seconds, and then continues, a little grumpily, “…it got all excited and growled at me and said I was bothering it, and then bit Gareth’s arm off! And he didn’t even twitch! For a moment I thought he was dead, but the dragon cast a spell and he stopped bleeding and then…”

Korm calmly picks up the sword and attached arm, and then tosses both into his own _haversack_. And shuts it over the fading and indignant, “Hey! Wha-?”

“Good move,” says Six. 

“Yes,” says Luna. “So is Nameless alive too? Any idea how long they will be? And why were you gone so long?”

Six raises a metal hand. “One thing at a time. Now sit down. This may take a while.” Once the others do, he proceeds to explain everything he has learned.

There is silence for a few moments after he finishes, and then Luna looks at Korm a little suspiciously. “Did you know this about the Gatekeepers?”

The orc raises both hands. “Not a clue. This is as new to me as to you two.”

“Humph! Anyway, you’re not a real druid, so maybe they didn’t tell you!”

Korm considers whether he should argue or comment, but decides to hold off for reasons of sanity. Instead, he turns to Six. “We need to talk to Saala about this. And Jaela too, in case the two are dead. If anyone can bring them back, she can. Having Gareth’s arm helps, but we don’t have any of Nameless.”

“I agree. Can you two get us to either of them?”

The druids shake their heads. “I mostly prepared for offense and defense today,” says Korm, “Except for the one travel spell, which I used to get here. We’ll have to do it tomorrow.” Luna agrees, and Six says, “Very well. Then we’ll go tomorrow morning. Another question – who’s going to tell Gareth’s family?”

“Not me,” is the simultaneous answer from the others. “No way!” Luna adds emphatically. “Let’s wait till we’re sure what happened to him.”

“All right. So none of us are going above ground then? Since they are next door.”

“No, we’re not.”

The three Guardian Angels settle down to spend the rest of the day in various ways, all of them wondering what is happening with their companions, and if they are even still alive.

* * * * *
Sometime later…

Gareth and Nameless awake through a haze of pain and general fuzziness in their heads to find themselves in a chamber they have seen before. They are in the room with the stone shelves, lying naked and strapped onto two of them. The primary source of the pain is quickly clear since both of them have been crucified, with large metal spikes driven through their hands into the stone beneath. Or, in Nameless’ case, through a hand and a tentacle, while for Gareth one spike goes through his left hand and the other through his right upper arm, which ends in a stump. 

_Whuh? When did that happen?_ Gareth thinks, trying to gather his thoughts through the fog that seems to permeate his head. He does realize that none of the few spells in his memory at the end of the battle are still there, nor are any of the spells he had on him. So too does Nameless, who takes a few seconds of looking around the chamber to realize that his permanent _arcane sight_ is missing too. 

Besides the nails, more pain radiates out from the shallow cuts which have been made all over their bodies. There is a pattern to each set of cuts, but neither of the unfortunate recipients is in a position to understand or work it out. Blood drips painfully down their bodies into channels in the stone, flowing down to the hemispherical depression in the center of the room, which now appears to hold a huge bowl of some kind.

Xagygyrag, who has his back to them and is manipulating the bowl in some manner, evidently senses that they have awoken, since he turns. The gargantuan dragon considers them silently for a moment and then says, “Do not worry – this will be over soon. I simply needed to collect some of your blood before I consume you. Do you have any last words? Sacrifices seem to want to talk before it is over.” 

“Thank you,” says Nameless painfully, “But I’m quite good.” _You can take my body, but my soul already belongs to someone far beyond you._ Gareth simply closes his eyes and begins to pray. 

“Very well,” says the dragon. He turns and walks over, crossing half the chamber in two giant strides, and the huge skull-head looms over Nameless. The alienist’s eyes meet the dragon’s huge orbs for a second, and then his vision is filled by a mouthful of fangs. For a moment, before Xagygyrag carefully bites his head off. 

Gareth opens his eyes to see blood gush from Nameless’ corpse, as the dragon meditatively chews the alienist’s head like a delicate little morsel. “Fascinating!” he mutters aloud, “He had much power and knowledge – for a human. And now it shall be mine.” Then he turns to the paladin and says, “Your turn,” and his neck snakes forward, jaws opening wide. 

There is a moment of intense agony for Gareth as the jaws close, and then only darkness. 

Which is broken after some time, though he has no idea how long that is, by a painfully bright light and a voice.


----------



## Rackhir

Well at least someone else's character died for once.


----------



## carborundum

JIMINY CRICKET!

Wow - there's no beating about the bush with Xagygyrag! 

/bows before Shilsen for going through with the killings without some sort of deus ex machina rescue


----------



## Vorput

::sniffs:: I think 4e killed my favorite story hour.


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:
			
		

> ::sniffs:: I think 4e killed my favorite story hour.




Actually it was something far more dangerous...

Shil's acquired a girlfriend and I suspect she's been wanting his attention before he heads back to India for the summer. 

He's said he'll be working on the next installment once he's back in Calcutta, which should be soon.

We were impressed with his girlfriend though. She sat through two D&D sessions and managed to keep her eyes open almost the entire time!


----------



## carborundum

OH NOES! Disaster!


----------



## shilsen

Vorput said:
			
		

> ::sniffs:: I think 4e killed my favorite story hour.




Actually, I'm planning to kill 4e and loot a lot of stuff from its carcass for this game.



			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> Actually it was something far more dangerous...
> 
> Shil's acquired a girlfriend and I suspect she's been wanting his attention before he heads back to India for the summer.
> 
> He's said he'll be working on the next installment once he's back in Calcutta, which should be soon.




Rackhir has the right of it. Amber (my girlfriend, who just leaned over and reminded me to post that she is TEH AWESOME!) has been staying with me and is taking off tomorrow, so I've been busy with her. Plus since I'm leaving Philly on Monday I've had a few other things keeping me busy too. But once I'm back in Calcutta, it should be regular business as far as the story hour is concerned.



			
				carborundum said:
			
		

> OH NOES! Disaster!


----------



## carborundum

She must be awesome to be besotted with someone who looks like that old wizard guy from those three films


----------



## shilsen

The next morning, the three surviving members of the Guardian Angels prepare to leave Karrnath. Before they can do so, Korm is contacted by Elabenna via a _sending_. “Have you had any success? Tried to contact Nameless but got no response. What happened? Did you locate Khesavuthir? When will you return to Io’lokar?” 

Korm quickly relays the message to Luna and Six and then replies, “Yes. Survived. Mostly. Found Khesavuthir. Nasty black dragon whupped our asses. Teleportation is unreliable there. Back in Khorvaire. Will return to Io’lokar when we can.”

When he is done, Luna says, “So she couldn’t find Nameless with a _sending_. I wonder if he’s dead.”

“We’ll know once Jaela attempts to bring him and Gareth back,” says Six.

“If she does,” points out Korm. “But we need to go find out. Let’s leave.”

*. . .*

Only seconds later, Korm appears outside the Cathedral of the Silver Flame in Flamekeep, startling the temple guards and functionaries as well as the line of pilgrims waiting to enter and those exiting. Weapons are drawn, but after some quick explanation (and the extraction of Six and Luna from a _portable hole_, an acolyte is dispatched to inform the Keeper and check if the three strange-looking individuals are to be allowed to meet her.

In a couple of minutes, another acolyte arrives at the door to lead the trio in. He leads them in a different direction to the one they took on their previous visit, and as they pass through various corridors and hallways, the Angels notice that there is significantly more traffic here than was the case in the area where they met Jaela. As usual, most of those they pass look at them with some surprise and open curiosity. As the minutes pass, Luna grunts, “So are we there yet?”

“Actually, yes,” says the acolyte, indicating an open doorway. Eight heavily armored guards stand at attention outside. And waiting within, to the trio’s surprise, is not Jaela but a pair of men. Both wear the religious garb of high-ranking clergy, while one wears the trappings of a cardinal of the Church. 

The latter studies the Angels keenly for a second and then a smile flashes across his saturnine face, as he says, “Please, be seated. I believe you are here to speak to the Keeper. I am Cardinal Krozen. May I know your business with her?”

The Angels exchange glances and then Korm says, “Umm, no! We have business with only her.”

Krozen’s face darkens slightly, but his tones remain polite. “I realize that. And, as head of the College of Cardinals, it is my duty to know of whatever business the Keeper is engaged in. Please answer my questions and then, when you have done so to my satisfaction, you will be taken to her.”

Six shakes his head impatiently. “No! Now go get her!” 

This time there is no mistaking Krozen’s anger. “Insolence!” He barks. “I should have you clapped in chains for this!” Luna, who has been scowling in his direction, loudly asks the others, “Shall I _flame strike_ him?” 

Krozen’s eyes go wide in shock and then fury. “Guards!” he bellows, causing those waiting outside to begin to troop in, weapons in hand.

Before Luna can respond with her customary violence, Korm quickly grabs her by the shoulder. Six looks at them and then back at Krozen, before saying, “You’ll thank us for this! This’ll be the happiest moment of your next few months.” 

Korm chuckles, “I don’t know. He’ll probably be pretty depressed about the daelkyr invasion, but after that they might be okay.” 

As the guards look confusedly at the cardinal for orders, the man beside him hurriedly begins whispering into his ear. The speech is inaudible to anyone on the other side of the room, or to anyone on the other side of the room and _not_ possessing the inhuman senses of the three Angels. All three clearly hear him cautioning Krozen that these people are favored by Jaela and she has ordered them to be sent to her as soon as they arrive. “Wait,” says Korm promptly, “She wants to meet us and you’re holding us up?” 

“Yeah,” growls Luna. “She’s not going to be happy!”

Krozen and his ally first look surprised at the comments and that the Angels know what they are saying, and then slightly uncomfortable at the situation. Deciding this is a good time, Six points out, “Listen, cardinal. Whatever we have to tell the Keeper, she will share most of it with you, I guess. And if you try to restrain us, we will have to use violence, and you don’t have enough guards here to handle even one of us. Let us go to Jaela and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

Krozen actually opens and closes his mouth twice before he is able to answer. Luckily, that seems to give him enough time to make up his mind. After the second time, he finally speaks through slightly gritted teeth to say, “Very well. You shall be taken to the Keeper.” The cardinal gestures to the man who brought the three here, who has been looking warily at the scene from behind the guards. The acolyte’s eyes widen and then he nods resignedly.

“Good,” is all Six says as he rises and leads the others out of the room, Luna giving Krozen an insouciant wave on the way out.

The acolyte leads them quickly away, staying as far ahead as he can without seeming to be running away from the Angels. Luckily for him, within a minute they are met by the original acolyte who had left the Angels at the main gate, seemingly confused by their disappearance. Their current guide swiftly hands them over and departs.

A few minutes later, the Angels are ushered into the presence of Jaela. This time she is not alone but with a number of people present, evidently engaged in delegating certain responsibilities. Or, more precisely, watching as the figure next to her does so, adding a few words as needed. It takes the Angels a few moments to recognize this individual, spotless in gleaming plate-mail bearing the insignia of the Silver Flame. Korm grins broadly as he realizes who it is, “Cedric?”

Cedric smiles back at the Gatekeeper and lifts a cautioning finger. “No cheap cracks, you!” Then he gestures at his garb and indicates Jaela. “This is all her fault!” Some of those standing around them look mildly horrified, but Jaela simply smiles slightly. Then she frowns. “Where are Gareth and Nameless? Are they all right?”

“Can we speak privately?” asks Six.

“Certainly. Give us a few moments,” the Keeper replies, before turning to the others. “You know your duties.” They nod and bow on the way out, leaving only Cedric behind. “So,” he says, “What did Gareth do now?”

The Angels quickly explain what has happened. Though Jaela says nothing to interrupt them, she is clearly horrified. Cedric takes things with more equanimity, saying simply, “I’ve got to say that I have been expecting something like this for months now. Jaela, perhaps you can do something for them?”

“Certainly. I would not easily ask the Flame to return someone from the dead, but for Gareth – and Nameless – I shall. I have not prepared the appropriate spells today, but I shall speak to the Flame immediately about what method shall be best.”

While the Angels wait, Jaela casts a _divination_ and asks, “What is the best way to bring Gareth back from the dead?”

As she awaits a response, Six receives a _sending_ in a familiar, if somewhat unexpected, voice. _Oh, great!_ he thinks. _Unfortunately, that makes perfect sense!_

Jaela, meanwhile, opens her eyes with a surprised look on her face. “They are both alive. And with…”

“…Mordain the Fleshweaver,” completes Six. “He just contacted me to come and collect them.”

* * * 
The previous day…

Gareth opens his eyes and squints blearily at the comparatively bright light. It seems to flicker and he feels something sticky on his eyelids – and actually all around him – and it takes him a few seconds to realize exactly what is. The paladin is suspended within a thick and faintly greenish fluid, contained within a giant vat made of glass or some other transparent material. Though the liquid is well over his head, Gareth finds that he has no trouble breathing.  He looks down to see that he is naked and has both of his hands intact. _Where am I?_ Gareth wonders, finding his thoughts difficult to form. 

Then he focuses on the voice which has been speaking and looks up to meet the cold and unblinking gaze of two gray eyes belonging to the figure standing outside the vat. The skin pulled tightly around them over their owner’s skull-like visage doesn’t even twitch as the harsh, raspy voice continues, in a slightly peevish tone. “…inconvenient of you to die so quickly! I had assumed that would happen eventually, but not so soon. Now I shall have to go to my backup clones!”

Mordain the Fleshweaver looks back and forth between Gareth and Nameless, floating in a vat nearby, ignoring the other vats within which exact facsimiles of Six, Korm and Luna float with eyes closed. He sighs. “Very well. Since you are here, there is little to be done. Sleep now.” As he turns away, darkness again envelops Nameless and Gareth.

* * *
When Gareth and Nameless next awake, they are lying naked on slabs of stone in the same chamber from which they had last departed Mordain’s home a month and a half ago. As they sit up, Mordain’s harsh voice greets them.

“Your companions are here,” says the Fleshweaver as he walks between the slabs. “I shall bring them here to take you away.” He lifts a tentacle-wreathed hand and then pauses and lowers it. “I see the two of you have developed dragonmarks,” he says, looking pointedly at the colored whorls on the paladin’s and alienist’s new bodies. “I would have kept you here and studied them further if I had the time, but I do not. Another time.” Then he gestures, says a word, and disappears. A second later, a glowing green portal about a hand-span wide appears where he had been and his voice warns, “Wait here and don’t go anywhere.”

“Where would I go?” Nameless asks rhetorically as the portal disappears, sitting up and lowering himself to the ground. _I was right about the clones._

Doing so as well, Gareth looks at him quizzically. “Do you also now remember everything that he did to us the …?”

“…last time we were here?” Nameless nods. “Yes. I presume he lacked the time – or perhaps the inclination – to change our memories again.” He shrugs. “Not that it matters. What are we going to do? Fight him in his own home with no weapons or spells? Not that I feel a great need to fight Mordain anyway.”

Gareth frowns. “For now. But he is completely evil and at some point we need to …”

He doesn’t complete the sentence, as Mordain reappears, with Six, Korm and Luna around him. The Fleshweaver gestures at the two standing beside the slabs. “There. Take them with you.”

Korm beams at his recently lost companions as he steps towards them. “Nice to see you both still around. We were trying to work out who was going to tell your family, Gareth, and I drew the short straw. I was _not_ looking forward to telling your mother that you got yourself ate by a dragon.”

“Yes. That was foolish,” opines Mordain. “Try not to do it again. Now, please depart.”

“Can we get some clothes for them?” asks Luna. “I don’t care, but popping back to the Cathedral with these two naked won’t look good.” She looks at them appraisingly and grins. “Especially you, Nameless. Damn, man – eat something!”

Six silently reaches into a backpack and pulls out some clothes. As he reaches for them, Gareth says hesitantly, “And I lost my hand. Can you do something about that, Mordain?”

The Fleshweaver sighs, his unbreathing lips emitting no sound, and then reaches into a pouch and extracts what looks like a perfect copy of the metallic hand that he had gifted Gareth earlier. “I have this, but you have no sword to place in it.”

As silently as before, Six reaches into his backpack and produces an object wrapped in a cloth. Which is identified even before he unwraps it, due to the loudly complaining voice which says, “About time! I’ve been stuck in that f*cking bag for so long that…”

As the warforged unwraps it, the Endless Blade shouts joyfully, “Gareth! You dumb f*ck! You’re alive!” Then, as Mordain steps forward to take it, there is silence, and then a muttered, “Motherf*cker!”

Ignoring the sword, Mordain turns to Gareth. “You want the hand? And the sword attached within it like before?”

“Umm, Gareth!” says the Blade urgently, its tone both concerned and wheedling. “I think it would be much more convenient if you just use me without …”

Ignoring it, Gareth replies to Mordain, “Yes, and yes.”

“Very well,” says Mordain. “Stretch out your arm on that slab.” He flicks his wrist slightly and part of the ring of tentacles that extend from it flow together and reshape themselves into what looks like a serrated blade of some pinkish metal. 

As the Fleshweaver grasps Gareth’s hand, Korm says, “That looks like it would hurt. And take some time. Would you prefer it if I did it, Gareth?”

The paladin looks at the six-inch long and jagged blade attached to Mordain’s arm and then at Korm’s gleaming sword. “Yes, I think that would be better. Mordain?”

The Fleshweaver shrugs and steps out of the way. “One of you should heal him once it is amputated.”

Korm steps into his place, blade at the ready. “Okay, Gareth – this is going to hurt you more than it does me.”

A few seconds later, a pale Gareth is looking down at the metal hand attached to the end of his bloodied wrist. “Good,” says Mordain, before reaching for the Endless Blade. The Fleshweaver says a couple of words and Gareth feels the metal hand go dead and inactive, before Mordain presses on the palm. A large vertical slot appears in it, which Mordain places the hilt of the sword within, before speaking a couple of words again. The slot slides shut, encasing the hilt, and Gareth feels the hand resume its functioning.

Mordain looks down at the hand and then up and around at the Guardian Angels, the five of whom surround him. “I can,” he says in a tone which is faintly informational, “Deactivate any of my creations at will. _Any_ of my creations.”

_Sh*t!_

“Now,” he continues, “Please depart. I hope I shall not see you any time soon.”

* * *

“…and so,” concludes Jaela, “I will be very pleased to have all of you present at the meeting tomorrow. You can stay at the Cathedral tonight and we will all leave tomorrow for Thronehold in the morning.”

The Angels ask a few questions about the meeting and the manner in which they will be going there, and then finally, Gareth says, “Keeper, I am a little embarrassed to make this request, but would it be possible for me to obtain some armor from the Cathedral’s stores? I lost mine – and almost all of my belongings – when I was slain by the dragon.”

“Certainly,” says Jaela, “But we will not be able to provide magical armor of the quality you had at such short notice. Cedric’s, for example, took nearly a month to construct.”

The Angels glance at Cedric, leaning against a wall nearby and resplendent in his glittering silver armor. He scratches his chin in thought and then says, “You know what, Jaela – let him take this one,” and taps his breastplate. Jaela looks surprised and Cedric turns to explain to Gareth, “The Keeper gave me this suit in keeping with my new … um, position. I got a promotion today.” 

Jaela nods. “Yes. I needed someone I can trust. I have appointed Cedric Champion of the Silver Flame and high commander of the armies of Thrane.” 

As Gareth’s eyes bulge slightly at the news*, Cedric grins and says, “See – it even sounds silly. And this thing really looks silly on me. I feel like a lighthouse! Gareth can get better use of it. He _likes_ looking like a lighthouse!” Jaela stares at him again for a moment and then sighs. “All right – it’s your armor now, to do with as you wish.” 

“Excellent! Come on, Gareth – let’s get you changed.” The two paladins leave and return a short time later, with Gareth in the silver armor. Cedric is back in his old, battered black armor, looking much happier and somehow giving the impression of having grown a day’s worth of stubble in the interim. “Ah!” he says with satisfaction, before smacking Gareth across the back with a ringing sound. “That’s much better!”

“Now that everyone is here,” says Six, “I need to explain some more of what I learned.” He then proceeds to relate what Xagygyrag told him about the dimensional seals and the use of blood magic and death energy in activating them. While Korm and Luna have heard the details before, the other four people in the room have not, and they listen raptly to Six’s detailed narration. 

When Six is done, Jaela says slowly, “I … see. This knowledge is very valuable, but I’m not sure what we can do with it. I shall need to commune with the Flame about it.”

“Have you told anyone else?” asks Nameless.

“Nobody but the people in this room,” says Six.

“I suggest that you keep it to this number,” says Cedric, and Jaela nods.

“The Gatekeepers will have to be informed,” says Korm decisively, and the others nod. 

“Yes,” says Jaela. “I am interested to hear their response. Very interested.” Then she takes a deep breath and sighs, for a few moments seeming much older than she is. “But, for now, we have something else to focus on. Tomorrow…”  

* * * * *
Late the next morning, the diplomatic contingent from Thrane – consisting of Jaela, Cedric, the Guardian Angels, and a number of people from the Cathedral – patiently awaits the arrival of the leaders and emissaries from the other nations of Khorvaire. Thronehold castle, the ruling seat of the queens and kings of Galifar, looms over them. Stern-faced guards bearing the livery of House Deneith watch them from a distance, keeping unceasing vigil upon these grounds as they – the Throne Wardens – are sworn to do until Galifar is once more knit into one.

Jaela shivers slightly as they wait in the mid-winter sun and pulls her cloak tighter around her thin frame. Cedric looks down at her immediately. “Are you cold?”

The Keeper shakes her head and replies quietly, “My connection with the Flame is weaker once I leave the Cathedral. It’s not a comfortable feeling.”

Cedric nods with unusual gravity. “I know.” He glances at the Angels standing around them. “Remember, if anything goes wrong, protect Jaela and get her out of there first.”

“Certainly,” replies Gareth, “We’ll make…”

The sound of trumpets cuts him off as a contingent of people approaches them, bearing the flag and livery of Karrnath, with another group approaching from a slightly different direction, under the sign of the Brelish bear.

“And so,” says Jaela softly, stepping forward, “We begin.”

Over the course of the next hour, multiple delegations arrive, led by and featuring the absolute height of Khorvaire’s ruling powers. King Boranel of Breland, King Kaius III of Karrnath, and Queen Aurala of Aundair join Jaela in representing the remaining four of Galifar’s five original nations. They are joined by Lhesh Haruuc, whose goblinoids carved out the independent nation of Darguun during the Last War, and two of the Daughters of Sora Kell – the blind dusk hag seer Sora Teraza and the annis hag warrior Sora Maenya – who took Droaam from Breland in a similar fashion. None of the actual monarchs of the various nations are present, sending representatives such as the elderly half-elven druid Faena Graymorn, a member of the Wardens of the Wood, speaking for the Eldeen Reaches. Similarly, ambassadors are present from Zilargo, the Mror Holds, Valenar, Q’barra, the Lhazaar Principalities, the Shadow Marches, and the Talenta Plains. 

As may be expected with such an eclectic collection of people, many of whom bear the scars of the Last War if not more ancient enmities, there is a significant amount of bristling and posturing, but the combination of Jaela’s diplomacy and the curiosity of the attendees regarding her request for a meeting helps minimize tensions. In a surprisingly short time, the leading representatives of each delegation are gathered in the great hall of the castle.

Once everyone is seated and ready, Jaela rises and speaks without preamble. “Rulers and dignitaries of Khorvaire, I have asked you to come here for a simple, but grave, reason. I needed to warn and inform you that war is once more upon us.” 

There is an instant hubbub, with raised voices and loud questions. The young girl raises her hands and continues, almost shouting above the others. “Please! Let me finish! This war comes not from within, as with the Last War, but from beyond. Far beyond. The gates between our world and Xoriat, the plane of Madness, which the Gatekeeper druids of the Shadow Marches sundered from Eberron at the time of the daelkyr-Dhakaani war, have reopened. As I speak, the hordes of Xoriat are entering this world.”

She indicates the Angels, who have been waiting silently nearby – and drawing suspicious glances from some of the ambassadors. “The Guardian Angels of Sharn, whom some of you have met and presumably all of you have heard of, have already been involved in fighting this invasion and know much more about this matter. They – and I – will try to answer your questions as best we can.”

While everyone in the chamber turns to look at them, Nameless transmits to his companions over the _telepathic bond_ he had set up earlier, _“Remember, we let Gareth do the talking. Anything anyone thinks we should say, we discuss over the link. And Gareth, be careful what you say.”_

As he is transmitting the message, a voice speaks from among the assembled monarchs and ambassadors. “I, for one, am very curious about how something like this came to pass. Perhaps one of the Angels would care to explain?” The speaker is Queen Aurala, and even though her tone and expression are neutral, her gaze is cold and suspicious.

Gareth quickly begins to explain what has occurred, being careful not to touch upon the Angels’ involvement with the opening of the gates, especially that of Nameless (which the Angels telepathically decide will only cause more confusion if expanded upon). 

When he finishes, Aurala speaks first again, raising her voice over the many others who begin to ask questions. “And what proof do you have of this supposed incursion?”

Nameless considers throwing off his disguise and revealing the power of his dragonmark, but restrains himself. Gareth, looking slightly surprised, says politely, “Queen Aurala, I give you my word as a paladin of the Silver Flame that what I have just related is true.”

“And…,” says Aurala smoothly and pointedly, indicating without direct statement that such a promise is meaningless. 

Gareth hesitates, and before he can reply, Jaela says, “If his word is not good enough, I can vouch for Gareth. My own divinations and consultations with the Silver Flame, as well as more mundane methods of gathering information, reveal that this is true. Xoriat _is_ here, whether we believe it or not, and the only thing left to decide is how to survive the coming assault.”

Aurala opens her mouth, her expression unconvinced, but this time another voice interrupts. The burly figure of King Boranel, who has sat silently all this time, speaks firmly. “I believe the Keeper. And Gareth. Not only do I trust Jaela and the Angels,” he adds with a nod in the direction of the adventurers, “But I have heard reports that something very strange is afoot, and this meeting answers some of my questions.” He chuckles deeply, with a rumble which reveals one reason why he is known as the Brelish Bear. “I sincerely doubt, Aurala, that you are as completely clueless as you make yourself out to be.”

Aurala flushes slightly, but she is cut off again by an unexpected voice, very different from that of the Brelish monarch’s. Sora Teraza says, from her seat besides her sister’s towering form, “Jaela and the Angels speak truth. Even as we speak, the gates of Xoriat are opening across Khorvaire. Their coming is fated, as those with eyes to see already know.” She lifts her withered head and her blind gaze moves across those gathered there, causing expressions of surprise and often revulsion. “You are wise, King Boranel,” she concludes.

Boranel nods calmly, though his face shows faint surprise at support from this quarter. “Thank you.” As some of those present bristle slightly at this interchange, Faena Graymorn says, “As some have already said, Xoriat is invading. I am here on behalf of the greatpine Oalian, leader of the Wardens of the Wood, to say that this danger is true. And it is not only from beyond that the danger comes. There is movement in Khyber and the aberrations of this world are preparing to aid their brethren from Xoriat. The bound daelkyr stir.”

Her speech causes some confusion, especially since most of those present have no real idea what the daelkyr are. But at least one of the leaders knows precisely what she speaks of. The Lhesh Haruuc brings his mailed fists together, causing the spiked armor without which he is never seen to rattle, and growls, “The daelkyr! Their invasion from Xoriat was the cause of the fall of Dhakaan!” He growls again and continues, “The dirgesingers of Darguun warned me that some calamity was coming, but I had hoped they were wrong. So be it! If Xoriat comes, whether we stand alone or not, Darguun will fight!”

Boranel studies the hobgoblin for a moment and then turns to Jaela. “Lhesh’s words raise a question for me. Is it simply that you wished to warn us of this situation, Jaela, or is there something more? After all, a warning would not need all of us to be assembled here, for the first time since the Thronehold Accords. Did you have greater plans?”

“Hopes more than plans,” says the Keeper. “Though a simple warning message would not have been heeded by all of you, and sending it could cause other problems, I primarily wished to see if the nations of Khorvaire can stand together against this threat.”

There is silence for a few seconds, and then Aurala speaks. “Are you suggesting a political or military coalition? In view of the wounds left by the Last War, and the precarious situation of power in Khorvaire, I can hardly see ho…”

The Queen of Aundair is apparently not fated to make herself heard very effectively at this meeting. As she is speaking, a number of those present cry out in surprise and alarm, pointing in different directions – “There is something there! Something invisible!”

Nameless, aided by his _arcane sight_ and by far the most knowledgeable about arcane matters in the room, immediately identifies what he sees and raises his harsh voice above the hubbub. “They are _scry_ing sensors! Four of them!” 

As confusion swirls around the room and people leap to their feet, the alienist sees the sensors wink out. A second later, he smiles viciously. “We’ve got aberrations _teleport_ing in! Lots of them! Everyone get out of the room. You have twenty seconds.”

“Twenty seconds? Ah, the _greater anticipate teleportation_! You’re a genius!” chuckles Korm, unsheathing his blade and casting a spell, “We can surprise the hell out of them!” Six says nothing, unsnapping his spiked chain as shadows swirl around his form. “Cedric! Get Jaela out!” snaps Gareth, clicking his fingers and causing the Endless Blade to emerge. Luna simply laughs and transforms, causing a huge tendriculos to appear where she is.

The people already streaming out of the chamber take one look at the gigantic plant and hurry their steps. Even so, they move too slowly for Nameless, who rises into the air above them, speaking in a tone which one might use for particularly slow children. “Move faster, or you’ll die in seventeen … sixteen … they’re _teleport_ing in four groups … fourteen … thirteen … coming in here, here, there and there. Twenty aberrations … eleven … ten … four are large. I presume at least one beholder … eight … seven … maybe up to four, so we’ll lose some abilities, but if we spread out, they can’t get us all … five … four …”

By this point, the huge hall is almost empty. Jaela, being chivvied out by Cedric, looks back as she exits and says, “Be careful! We will return with help!” A step behind them, Sora Maenya looks almost mournfully back at the Angels and then sighs and follows her blind sister out of the door, closing it behind them.

Which leaves only the Angels and three other figures. Lhesh Haruuc, a saw-edged sword in his hands, grins in anticipation. Near him, Boranel throws off his cloak and draws his own sword, grunting wryly, “This is more exercise than I expected to get on this trip!” The third, darkly saturnine figure, says nothing, but the expression on Kaius III’s face reveals only cold determination. As everyone takes up different positions according to Nameless' instructions, the Angels continuing to cast spells and the monarchs to drink potions in preparation, the alienist counts down the moments until the attackers will arrive, “… two … one … now!”

On the dot, twenty shapes appear, in four discrete groups. Eight of them are dolgaunts, poised and ready with pinkish-purple tentacles raised to strike. Another eight are mind flayers, four of them with the amputated tentacles set with dragonshards which indicate spellcasting ability. And floating just above each pair of illithids and dolgaunts is the bloated ovoid of a beholder, central eye wide and smaller eyes ready to blast those around them. 

The aberrations are clearly ready for combat, and Nameless’ _arcane sight_, in the split second before a beholder’s _anti-magic_ gaze suppresses it, reveals a number of magical auras. Their positioning is flawless, the conical _anti-magic_ fields of the beholders aimed so as to sweep vast swathes of the room and rob those situated there of their magical abilities and items, while they leave their allies untouched and able to attack. The mind flayers are ready to unleash their spells and _mind blast_s into the areas the _anti-magic_ fields do not cover, while the dolgrims will either protect them or attack those nearby. In combination with the awesome power of the forty eyebeams that the four beholders can use simultaneously, and appearing in a room full of surprised people attempting to flee, it is the perfect recipe for a massacre.

Or it would have been if they had appeared twenty seconds ago, as they would have except for Nameless’ presence. Instead, they appear in a chamber where their enemies are prepared for them and know exactly where they will be. And these enemies consist of the Guardian Angels and three of the deadliest swordsmen in all Khorvaire. It _is_ a massacre, only not quite how the aberrations had planned.

Nameless, caught near the edge of one of the _anti-magic_ cones, runs nimbly for the edge, shouting, “Take the beholders down first!” Near him, Gareth frowns as the gaze of a beholder washes over him too, causing the Endless Blade to disappear with a cry of, “I f*cking hate thi…!” The paladin snaps back at the alienist, “I can’t reach them from the ground,” and then charges a nearby group of aberrations, calling, “Luna, Korm – the beholders are all yours!”

Luna, suddenly back in shifter form, growls, “One second!” as she runs across the opposite side of the room. As she emerges into an unaffected area, her form twists and changes, expanding instantly into the tendriculos that she was a second ago. She turns, tentacles waving and casting, and an empowered flame strike slams down on a beholder and the dolgaunts and mind flayers below it. As it staggers, a swift arc of lightning leaps from it to the mind flayer spellcaster below. The mind flayer drops without a sound, while the corpse of the beholder tilts over and floats above it.

Across the room, the flaming ruin of another beholder floats above the charred corpses of a dolgaunt and a mind flayer, as Nameless lowers his hand. As the two survivors of that group step back in surprise and shock, Gareth is among them. They are still within an _anti-magic_ zone, so he lacks any obvious weapons, but the paladin doesn’t let that stop him. He barrels into the mind flayer, smashing his fist up under its tentacles and cramming it partly down its mouth as he bears it backwards. The mind flayer gurgles in fear and fury and strikes at Gareth with its tentacles, but there is little it can do within an area where its magical powers do not apply. And then, as their momentum bears the pair backwards, it feels itself driven out of the _anti-magic_ field and its eyes light up with hope, as it prepares to mind blast this rash attacker. For all of half a second, as the Endless Blade springs back into existence, extending instantly from the metal hand shoved up under the mind flayer’s jaw and shooting through its skull and out the back. 

Behind Gareth, the remaining dolgaunt lets out a cry of fury and steps forward, tentacles raised over his exposed back. And then it staggers back as something rips painfully across its back. Spinning around, the dolgaunt sees a strange shape wreathed in shadow, a second before Six’s chain punches through its unoccupied eye socket into the brain beyond.

Korm, slightly slower to react, turns and flaps the leathery cloak-like wings which he grew seconds ago to head towards a third beholder. It attempts to spin in mid-air and bring its gaze to bear on him, but then roars in pain and careens wildly as the Gatekeeper drops a swift _flame strike_ on it first. Before it can recover, Korm is above it, and he simply lets himself drop, sword first. As the beholder reflexively rolls its eye upwards, the Gatekeeper buries his blade, forged from the heart of a meteor for precisely such moments, almost hilt-deep into it. His target thrashes wildly and then goes limp. Korm rips his sword free and brandishes it, still balancing on the floating corpse, and roars an orcish war-cry.

One of the mind flayers below raises a hand to unleash a spell, and then lurches sideways with a gurgling scream as a jagged blade almost takes its head from its body. A second blow completes the job and it slumps to the ground as its head rolls away. “You should have stayed in Xoriat!” says the Lhesh Haruuc contemptuously. Near him, Kaius casually cuts a dolgaunt in two and then sweeps his sword in an arc, sending the mind flayer it was protecting into hurried retreat, and right into the waiting blade of Boranel, which quickly dispatches the surprised creature. 

In seconds, half the attacking force has been destroyed. The remaining mind flayers desperately hurl spells and _mind blast_s, while the dolgaunts try to protect them, but all to no avail. Even the last beholder, rapidly firing its eyebeams all around it, can do little before it floats lifeless like its brethren. 

Only seconds later, Luna’s giant tentacle wraps around the last survivor of the battle, a mind flayer, and she lifts it into her mouth. Korm, who was charging it, growls as he sees his quarry taken, and leaps after it. As the unfortunate creature struggles to keep from being pulled into the tendriculos’ giant maw, the Gatekeeper barrels into it and propels both of them through. They land with a splash in the giant pool of paralyzing acid which counts as a stomach for Luna’s current form, and the mind flayer immediately goes rigid. Korm, protected from the acid and the paralysis by his spells, grins ferociously and grabs it.

The others move quickly up to see this strange sight, while Luna grabs at her lower lip and gurgles, trying not to shut her mouth, “Heyy, Kohm – you shtupid awk … get owt!” Ignoring her, Korm punches the paralyzed mind flayer and shoves its head under the surface of the acid.

“What in the Flame is he doing?” asks Gareth.

Nameless, having floated a few feet off the ground to get a better view, chuckles, “I believe he’s drowning the mind flayer in Luna’s stomach juices!”

Six hears a louder chuckle behind him and turns to see Boranel cleaning his sword. “Are you people always like this?” asks the Brelish monarch. “Haydith told me many stories, but now I see it …,” he shakes his head, leaving the sentence uncompleted. 

“They are,” says Six succinctly, before looking back as a satisfied Korm calls up to Luna, “Just transform back to shifter. That will pop us out. A real druid,” he chuckles, “Would know that!”

Luna snorts disgustedly, flips him off with a tentacle, and proceeds to do so, causing a dripping Korm and a very dead mind flayer to appear on the floor beside her. The Gatekeeper beams in satisfaction. “Now that – was _awesome_!”**

“Yes, it was,” agrees Boranel. “And a number of people owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Oh,” says Luna, face lighting up at the prospect, “I just realized that. Damn!”

Which is precisely what Cedric and Sora Maenya say as they run in a second later, followed by a dozen Throne Wardens, and stop to look at the scene of carnage. “DAMN!”



* And his player says to me, “Bastard! You did this just to mess with me!”

** And it was. The entire PC party managed to take no damage. Possibly a first for the campaign, and certainly for any fight we’ve played out in detail.


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## carborundum

AWESOME indeed! That was well worth the wait, Shil! 

I bet it was a blast to play too (for the players) - especially after the Xagygyrag debacle! Four beholders! FOUR! And some other stuff - I'm sure those dolgaunts weren't basic CR 2 dolgaunts either  Spellcasting mindflayers ... and did I mention FOUR beholders?!

The mindflayer-drowning will stay with me for a long time to come 

**********

What do you mean by "certainly for any fight we’ve played out in detail."


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> AWESOME indeed! That was well worth the wait, Shil!




Thanks. 



> I bet it was a blast to play too (for the players) - especially after the Xagygyrag debacle! Four beholders! FOUR! And some other stuff - I'm sure those dolgaunts weren't basic CR 2 dolgaunts either  Spellcasting mindflayers ... and did I mention FOUR beholders?!




This is why I have to use advanced/templated beholders versus these bums  Once Nameless' _greater anticipate teleportation_ gave them the jump on the aberrations, it was all over bar the shouting.



> The mindflayer-drowning will stay with me for a long time to come




And me too! Every time I think these guys have come up with one of the weirdest ways to beat/kill an enemy, they top it!



> What do you mean by "certainly for any fight we’ve played out in detail."




With the PCs now in the 15th level range (at the time of the session in the writeup), there are some enemies who are not a challenge at all, in which case I don't bother rolling but just let the players narrate how their PCs kick the crap out of them. This fight we did play out in detail.


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## Furby076

carborundum said:


> The mindflayer-drowning will stay with me for a long time to come
> 
> **********
> 
> What do you mean by "certainly for any fight we’ve played out in detail."




It will stay with us for a long time too (shudder).

As for the played out fight, there was one or two fights we didn't play out because they were so low level that for us to lose we would have to roll all natural 1's, Nameless would have to be totally spell-less, and they would have to roll all natural 20's.   Think 10 level 2 warriors vs us.


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## shilsen

Added a little bit more to the writeup about something AviLazar reminded me of:



> Near him, Gareth frowns as the gaze of a beholder washes over him too, causing the Endless Blade to disappear with a cry of, “I f*cking hate thi…!” The paladin snaps back at the alienist, “I can’t reach them from the ground,” and then charges a nearby group of aberrations, calling, “Luna, Korm – the beholders are all yours!”
> 
> Luna, suddenly back in shifter form, growls, “One second!” as she runs across the opposite side of the room. As she emerges into an unaffected area, her form twists and changes, expanding instantly into the tendriculos that she was a second ago. She turns, tentacles waving and casting, and an empowered flame strike slams down on a beholder and the dolgaunts and mind flayers below it. As it staggers, a swift arc of lightning leaps from it to the mind flayer spellcaster below. The mind flayer drops without a sound, while the corpse of the beholder tilts over and floats above it.
> 
> Across the room, the flaming ruin of another beholder floats above the charred corpses of a dolgaunt and a mind flayer, as Nameless lowers his hand. As the two survivors of that group step back in surprise and shock, Gareth is among them. They are still within an _anti-magic_ zone, so he lacks any obvious weapons, but the paladin doesn’t let that stop him. He barrels into the mind flayer, smashing his fist up under its tentacles and cramming it partly down its mouth as he bears it backwards. The mind flayer gurgles in fear and fury and strikes at Gareth with its tentacles, but there is little it can do within an area where its magical powers do not apply. And then, as their momentum bears the pair backwards, it feels itself driven out of the _anti-magic_ field and its eyes light up with hope, as it prepares to mind blast this rash attacker. For all of half a second, as the Endless Blade springs back into existence, extending instantly from the metal hand shoved up under the mind flayer’s jaw and shooting through its skull and out the back.


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## The_Warlock

Now THAT is what I call tactics...


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## carborundum

Oooo ... nice one, Gareth!


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## shilsen

The_Warlock said:
			
		

> Now THAT is what I call tactics...




Luckily, they'll get over it soon, I'm sure 



			
				carborundum said:
			
		

> Oooo ... nice one, Gareth!




See below!

* * * * * * * * * *

King Boranel calls to the Deneith Throne Wardens, “Keep everyone outside for now. Just in case.” Kaius adds his voice and the Wardens comply, though after a moment they let Jaela through. Sora Maenya, now certain that there are no enemies left, departs disappointed. Which leaves the Angels standing around with the rulers of Thrane, Breland, Karrnath, and Darguun, and the official Champion of the Silver Flame, general of the armies of Thrane. 

The hobgoblin Lhesh Haruuc finishes cleaning his sword and nods at the Angels in general and says, “Thank you. Many people owe you their lives.” Gareth nods back. “We appreciate that, and your martial skills came in very handy too.”  Haruuc smiles and then steps over to exchange a couple of words with Boranel and Kaius. 

As he does so, Jaela then walks over, a pleased but slightly worried smile on her face, “Haruuc is right. Without your presence, this would have been a disaster. And this, I think, will underline the danger we are all in. Xoriat has made its first big move in the war, and now we will have to decide how to respond. But we should rejoin the others. Come. And thank you again.” From behind her, Cedric grins over her head and gives the Angels a big thumbs-up.

Gareth scratches his head. “I do not think this attack was really meant to kill us. I think they were meant to test our abilities. Nameless, is it possible for you to see if someone was or is still scrying on us?  I’d imagine the leader of these forces would be quite hard to detect.”

Nameless shakes his head. “No scrying sensors. But I'm absolutely sure they were intended to kill. If my spell hadn’t given us prior warning and delayed them, four beholders firing their rays into a crowded chamber would have been a bloodbath.” He glances at the bodies. “They’re layered in multiple protective spells, but none of them carry a single magical item on them.”

Six, who was kneeling over some of the bodies, says, “And no possessions, except for clothing and pouches holding spell components.”

“Maybe they wanted to ensure that it’s hard for us to track them back magically,” says Gareth. Then he turns towards Cedric and Jaela, seeming to address the former. “Your eminence, what is the next step you would like for us to take with these preparations? The forces of Xoriat will come through whichever portal they can find, and there are many, so we cannot station guards there as anything short of an army would get decimated.”

Cedric gives Gareth a dirty look, then grins and says, “At the moment we need to finish the meeting. As for what we do with the forces of Xoriat, that depends on where and how they attack, but we can discuss that afterwards. And if you call me ‘eminence’ again, I will kick your ass from here to Sharn.”

Inwardly amused, Gareth puts on a confused expression. “What are you talking about, Cedric? I was speaking to the Keeper. My apologies, I didn’t mean to slight you or hurt your feelings by asking the Keeper a military question instead of you.”

As Jaela looks puzzled, Cedric shakes his head and says, “Ass. Boot. Sharn.”

Ignoring the interchange, Luna rolls. Though her tendriculos form has no face, her tentacles droop disappointedly, since she has ascertained that Six is right about the lack of treasure and magic to be gained from the dead aberrations. “We’re definitely going to need to re-equip our paladin properly,” she says to nobody in particular, “If he’s going to be really useful when they do come all tricked out with powerful magic items. And it couldn’t hurt if we had some stuff for the rest of us as well.” She indicates Nameless and Gareth. “These guys lost their lives getting this info. Well ... sorta.” She glances at the monarchs. “What do you think? Can someone help out our paladin? In the end, it may help save the world – and you all live there too.”

Cedric stares as Luna speaks her piece, and then begins to laugh, but his laughter is drowned out by Boranel’s explosive guffaw. The gray-bearded monarch of Breland laughs so hard that he actually has to support himself with a hand on Kaius’ shoulder. The king of Karrnath looks mildly surprised at this and apparently isn’t as amused. After a few seconds, Boranel straightens and mostly ceases his laughter. “The Traveler take me – you people don't waste time when you want rewards, do you?” he chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll see what can be arranged for you. But now, we do need to finish this conference. I’m sure,” and his face sets in darker lines, “There’s much work to be done.”

Jaela nods. “Yes, there is. But I think people might be a little more open to suggestion after what just happened. Follow me, please.” She turns and heads for the door, followed by Cedric and the three monarchs.

As the Angels follow them, Luna begins to squeeze herself through the door, saying, “Well, it looks like all the excitement is over, and now I’ve pretty much explained the situation to everyone properly, and in plain language. So I shall just go outside and have a nice nap in the sun.” She yawns cavernously. “Call me if you need me to negotiate anything and if not, you can just let me know what happens. A brief synopsis should be more than fine.”

After a slightly surprised look, Jaela asks a couple of the Throne Wardens to escort Luna outside. The Deneith warriors look even more surprised, but proceed to do so. The castle does have very expansive and well-tended gardens, so there are a number of places for Luna to relax. And scare some of the local fauna out of a few years’ growth.

The meeting continues in another large chamber, if not as expansive as the first. Many of those present, though not any of the three rulers who got involved in the battle themselves, nor the two hags from Droaam, are understandably nervous and upset about what happened, but having to get back to business does seem to calm them somewhat. As Jaela expected, the attack also has the effect of both underlining the danger to Khorvaire and the need for urgency. And a small benefit for the Angels is that they cease being questioned about their role in the coming of Xoriat and any queries have more to do with what can be done in the future.

Queen Aurala, who seems to remain even more singularly unhappy about the situation than anyone else, asks the Angels, “Since you seem to know so much about this situation, what are your recommendations about the situation and how we deal with it?”

Gareth bows to her before he responds, “Without a doubt, your Highness, alerting the public to this event would incite mass hysteria and this would do no more than help Xoriat. So I do not believe we should spread this information. But we do have to prepare. It may be time for each kingdom to start increasing its military forces and to train our people to fight aberrations without letting them know that is what is occurring. Start equipping them with equipment and techniques that will bypass the defenses of these aberrations. We also need to include war wizards and priests in all regiments, since magic will be needed to fight these creatures, so we need to be training more wizards, priests, and druids for military duty. But, before we do that, we need to draw up a treaty that is better than the one we have now.” 

The paladin continues, looking around the chamber, “We are independent nations on one planet that will be attacked by a unified, determined, and superior force. Our biggest advantage is that they are attacking us on our home ground. Our biggest disadvantage is that we are still fragmented pieces of a great whole. We need to increase our forces, to unite them and to break down the walls of distrust that separate one nation from another.” As he warms to the subject, Gareth rises to his feet. “We need all people of Khorvaire to learn that we are all kinsmen who wish to live in peace. Only if we are united in one front can we hope to prevail. That is what I propose – something which might be contrary to the thoughts of most in this room, and many in Khorvaire – but it is the only way we can survive. Anything else, and we might as well surrender ourselves to Xoriat this very moment and simply die.”

Aurala purses her lips, but before she can answer, another voice does. “You are right, Gareth,” says Boranel, his voice calm but firm, carrying clearly across the chamber, “We must present a united front if we are to have our best chance of success and minimize our losses. I am _not_ proposing, ladies and gentlemen, before someone jumps to that conclusion, that we attempt to unite under one banner, since that would be patently impossible. In fact, I propose nothing. I will simply make a declaration here. I promise, here and now, that the forces of Breland will not just be on a war footing within the day, but we will aid to the best of our ability the people of any nation represented here.” 

The eyes of the monarch of Breland, arguably the most powerful country in Khorvaire move around the table. His gaze meets that of Aurala, Kaius and Jaela, leaders of the countries Breland battled throughout the Last War, and that of Sora Maenya (and the sightless expression of Sora Teraza), whose minions took the western part of Breland for their own, and Lhesh Haruuc, whose goblinoid kingdom of Darguun includes some of what was eastern Breland. “_Any_ nation. Whatever our past and whatever situations we have at hand right now. And no, I do not ask for such a promise in return.”

There is a moment’s silence and then the clank of metal as Lhesh Haruuc rises to his feet and bows to the king of Breland. “My people fought Xoriat thousands of years ago, and we will do so again now. The forces of Darguun will stand ready to aid any who need it. Thus pledge I, the Lhesh Haruuc, and my word is my bond.” 

The hobgoblin glares around as a couple of muffled snickers erupt around the table, but before he can say anything more, Cedric (after casting a quick glance at Jaela) rises swiftly. “Speaking on behalf of Thrane and the Church of the Silver Flame, I can promise that Thranish forces will be ready to aid whoever we can.”

The next speaker doesn’t rise, but the voice of King Kaius III of Karrnath carries clearly across the room as he nods darkly. “Karrnath will aid as we can. I also promise,” and his gaze slides openly to Aurala, “That we will respect the sovereignty of all nations around us and cross no borders unless asked to do so, but if we are ever asked to do so to help a neighbor, we will be pleased to do so.” 

Gareth nods as each of the nations pledge their support, proud to see the people of Khorvaire uniting. _We shall win by unity against the forces of madness and evil._ One by one, more voices join in, pledging support of various kinds, until Queen Aurala smoothly puts in, “Aundair too will stand ready to aid our neighbors as we can, though I suggest – for the future safety of Khorvaire and to prevent unnecessary unrest in the present – we prepare to quickly draft treaties between the various nations to facilitate such military and other aid without undue trouble.”

Boranel’s mouth quirks in a smile and he says, “I agree. But I don’t think Jaela called us here to draft papers, but rather with the hope to hear what we all just have.” The Keeper nods, pleasure and relief clear in her eyes, and he continues, “We can have that handled by diplomats and people who enjoy such things – by which I mean, _not_ me.” Waiting for the ripple of laughter to die down, Boranel gestures at Gareth and continues, “I will, however, disagree completely with one thing Gareth suggested – that we not inform our people. There is no way that the sort of military movements which we will all be engaging in would not draw notice and great speculation and concern. And somehow I doubt that news of this meeting and details of it won’t leave this room. Not that any of that matters. What matters is that we can expect attacks across Khorvaire soon, correct?”

The disparate voices of Sora Teraza, Nameless and Jaela Daran answer simultaneously – “Yes!” Boranel nods. “In that case, all of Khorvaire needs to know precisely what is coming, so that they can prepare as best possible. I will not have a single village of Breland come under attack unknowing and unprepared, if I can help it, and I presume the same is true for others gathered here.”

“That said,” he turns to the Keeper, “Is there anything else in particular that you...”

Boranel doesn’t complete the sentence, a mildly surprised look crossing his face. Seconds later, somewhat similar looks cross those of Jaela and Aurala, and seem to spread around the table. Others look confused and look back and forth at the sudden silence. 

Nameless transmits over the link, _"They're receiving Sendings, I think."_ Which is quickly corroborated as the receivers begin to snap quick replies, before quickly addressing the table. “I’m sorry, but I must leave quickly. Breland is under attack,” says Boranel. Jaela and Aurala confirm similar messages about their nations, followed by Kaius, Sora Teraza and Faena Graymorn from the Eldeen Reaches. 

The meeting ends hastily, with promises for further communication. House Orien transporters enter the room, along with others who will travel with the leaders, and seconds later they are _teleport_ing away and back to their homelands. Throne Wardens prepare to escort the others away. Luna, having been informed over the link, re-enters in her normal form. Sora Teraza pauses to say to the Angels simply, “We shall meet again before the end.” Then she uses a _word of recall_ to transport herself, her sister and their two attendants away.

“We have to return to the Cathedral,” says Jaela. “Nameless, can you transport Cedric and myself and the rest of you back there?”

“Easily,” says the alienist, producing the _portable hole_ and indicating that a couple of his companions should jump in.

Gareth says, “One moment,” and quickly steps over to King Kaius and his retinue. “Your majesty, I have a request. The forces of Xoriat are clever and have eyes and ears everywhere. Would you please send a dispatch to my family and put them somewhere safe? They may be killed or taken hostage, and this worries me daily.”

Kaius looks at Gareth silently for a couple of seconds, his face expressionless, and then says gravely, “I will ensure that someone checks on them.” Then he walks away, followed by his attendants, to join the waiting Orien transporters. 

Gareth turns and quickly rejoins the Angels, sword at the ready, casting a _magic circle versus evil_ in case there is trouble when they teleport in.

Luckily, when Nameless transports Jaela, Cedric and his companions back to the Cathedral, they only find it in a state of significantly heightened activity, though it might not be as obvious to those outside. While pilgrims and other worshippers still enter and depart through the central doorway, warriors and functionaries of all kinds hurry in and out of other exits. 

Jaela and Cedric lead the Angels towards an area they have not been in before. This seems to be a section where the more militant aspects of the Church are gathered, with arms and armor in constant display. Many people are clustered in small groups and talking animatedly, and they quickly swarm the Keeper and Cedric. It takes a while to make out details, but the gist is clear - there is serious trouble in Thrane and beyond. 

Over the next few minutes, the new arrivals learn that there are reports of attacks by aberrations coming in from all across the nation and from other parts of Khorvaire. News is coming in carried by anything from mounted messengers to the wingwyrds that serve the temples of the Flame to the rare powerful priest with an ability to use a _sending_ to the Khorvaire-wide information network that is House Sivis. At least half a dozen places in Thrane have suffered attacks, though Flamekeep itself is untouched. Places in Breland, Aundair, Karrnath and others have the same situation. While there is yet no news of a full-scale army of aberrations on the field, war is certainly brewing, if it has not already begun.

After giving some orders to those around him, Cedric turns to the Angels, his face for once lacking any humor. “We’re going to be very busy for a while now, so let’s make this quick. What are you planning to do? Are you going somewhere? Waiting here to help with the situation? Something else?”

“Next stop, the Gatekeepers,” says Six.

“You’re right,” says Gareth, and then adds to Six, “This may be a good spot to tie another _word of recall_ to. This place should be safe to _teleport_ to and provide us with aid for any major medical emergency … and perhaps even death. I will clear this with the Keeper.” 

Gareth walks over to speak to Jaela and returns in a few moments to say that she agrees to such a usage. “I thought of something else. We will have to return to Argonnessen. We will try and enlist the aid of the humanoids there, and see if we can gain the favor of the dragons as well. Right now we need allies and power, and here we have done everything we can. And with Nameless’, Korm’s and Luna’s spells, we would be only a few moments away at any point. Once we have this done we can focus on the forces of Xoriat.”

“All right,” says Cedric, “Best of luck.” Gareth shakes his hand. “And to you. You know the power of what we are dealing with. I do not envy you your responsibilities and the forthcoming battles by any means.” Cedric simply grimaces in agreement, nods his thanks, and turns away to rejoin those around Jaela.

Gareth turns to Nameless. “I would like to contact Lalia. Could you help me out with a _sending_, please?”

The alienist shakes his head. “Actually, I have just the one prepared and I’ll need to use that to contact Saala. Which I’ll go ahead and do now.” 

While Nameless casts his spell, Six says to Gareth, “Remember, we have a meeting in Argonnessen later this week. Korm and I can go talk with the Gatekeepers. You can go ahead to Argonnessen with Luna and prepare the meeting place. Don’t worry about splitting up. She will keep you safe.”

Gareth looks strangely at Six. “You know that Argonnessen is perilous and will require the entire group, not part of it.”

“Yeah,” argues Luna. “The Gatekeepers will definitely want to talk to me too! In fact, they might even feel slighted if I don't go! Six isn’t even a druid!”

“Six,” the warforged explains, “Was also joking, and hoping that some of you would go elsewhere, since that would raise his chances of survival. But the Gatekeepers it is. The highest ranking ones we know. I believe that would be the reincarnated woman and the senile dragon?”

Korm chuckles. “You’re becoming a regular comedian, Six.”

At this point, Nameless rejoins the others. “I spoke to Saala and learned her location. She’s in an area that we have not been to, but asked us to travel to a known location, namely the one where Gurr’khan first took us to the Shadow Marches, where a guide will be waiting for us. Everyone ready?”

A few seconds later, the Angels appear in the Shadow Marches, where they are met by the aforementioned guide, a young orcish warrior. With his information and their magical resources, they are soon at the location where the leader of the Gatekeepers is located. 

This area is a lightly forested area on a hill rising above the swamps of the Marches. A number of tents have been raised and dozens of people, predominantly orc and half-orc, move about the area, most gathered into small groups and talking animatedly. Many bear signs of the Gatekeepers and there are a fair number of animals, presumably companions to them, in the area too. The discussions all stop at the advent of the Angels, and some people follow as the guide leads them into the heart of the small encampment, curiosity writ large on their faces at the sight of the new arrivals.

The Angels find Saala Torrn awaiting them before one of the larger tents, accompanied by half a dozen men and women, all of at least middle age. “Welcome,” she says, getting quickly to the point, “What news do you bring?”

Six replies, “We need to speak in a place sequestered from magical and non magical eavesdropping, with as few others as possible.”

Saala looks a little surprised. “These are all trusted members of the Gatekeepers, but I will speak with you privately, if you wish. As for sequestering from magical eavesdropping, unfortunately, that is more of an arcane skill than a druidic one. Nameless, can you do anything to help?”

The alienist says, “I have nothing prepared that is specifically good for blocking magical scrutiny, but I can cast a _rope trick_, which will put us on a different plane altogether.” With Saala’s agreement he does so, and the Angels proceed inside, followed by her and two of the oldest Gatekeepers present.

Once inside, Six begins to explain what he learned from Xagygyrag. Having done so, he says, “So the seals are powered by blood, preferably lots of it. So much so that the earlier Gatekeepers waited until enough was spilled that the seals would work, before using them against the daelkyr. That doesn’t tell us how, but it is a great secret that could stop this alliance before it starts. But I’m guessing you already know that. And that you already know how to make these seals but didn’t want to touch upon how they are powered.”

Saala, who has been looking openly – and progressively – more surprised as the narration has progressed, emits a surprised, “What?!” Then she quickly shakes her head. “I did _not_ know this. Neither how to make the Seals nor this story of how they are supposed to be powered by blood. I do not mistrust you, but at you certain about this information? Precisely what were you told?” The other two Gatekeepers, seeming as surprised, join in with questions too and it’s quickly clear that they have absolutely no idea what Six is talking about. 

Six answers the questions as well as he can, repeating and emphasizing specific details while also adding some of his own thoughts. “Old Xaggy seemed to believe that blood is the key to all powerful magic here. But since my ichor was used and we,” he indicates himself and his companions, “Have been a part of several blood-related ceremonies, it’s not necessarily actual blood, nor is it to the death of the donor. We need to find out how much blood is needed for this process. If the blood from10,000 deaths is needed, then will 100,000 giving one-tenth the amount do? And what is the nature of blood that is used. After all, creation forges make warforged lifeblood from unknown sources, the Ring of Siberys is supposedly the blood of the progenitor wyrm Siberys, the dragonmarked have greater concentrations of power in their lineage than others, and apparently these dimensional seals can make use of all this power. So how much is needed?”

“Also,” he continues, “Xaggy said that the power required was provided not just by blood but by life energy, which would be released in death. If this death energy is needed, then the Mournland has lots of it, and fairly fresh too. We know for a fact that it’s full of departed souls. And I remembered something. Xaggy said that we have three or four months before the stars align properly. That would be the best time to re-energize the seals. I don’t know if we’ll need another one because of one in the Mournland being destroyed.” 

The Gatekeepers listen intently, their expressions ranging from alarm to distaste at mention of using energy from the dead of the Mournland. When Six finishes, after clarifying a couple of details, Saala says, her tone worried, “I will need to speak to some others about this, but I don’t want this information – or theory – being shared with any others, please.” She seems to be addressing the other two Gatekeepers as much as the Angels, and they nod. 

“Certainly. We have only told the Keeper of the Silver Flame, and a paladin we trust completely,” says Gareth.

“Thank you,” Saala continues. “I’ll also see if we can verify the accuracy of this information. Perhaps by studying the seals. I’ll need to speak to some of our people who have access to and are guarding them.” She pauses and then smiles thinly. “Gurr’khan, for one, who will _not_ be happy.” Despite the seriousness of the subject, Korm and Luna grin hugely at the comment.

Saala’s smile disappears as quickly as it appeared and she sighs heavily, rubbing her brow with one hand. “Whatever comes of it, I am very grateful for this news and your efforts. So tell me,” she asks, “What do you plan to do next? Clearly there are many ways in which you could help with this conflict and I’m sure many across Khorvaire will make demands on your time. What do you intend?”

Gareth nods. “While everyone is going to want us to fight their particular battle, doing that would be an utter waste of time. It would also mean our enemies get to learn our abilities. We will need to focus on the big picture – making plans for using the seals as needed, it seems. If there is a major fight that we are absolutely needed for then we will be there, but for the most part Khorvaire needs to take care of its individual needs. It is impossible for us to fight every battle.” He pauses in thought and then adds, “We are going back to Argonnessen. We need to enlist the help of the townsfolk there and meet with the dragon council.”

“I see,” says Saala. “I can’t disagree about the potential usefulness of more information and aid from Argonnessen. And I appreciate what you said about aiding in battles where you are absolutely needed. I will not call upon you unless the need is absolutely dire, of course. But you have enough power amongst the five of you to take on an army, and it would be a pity if that power wasn’t brought to bear against Xoriat. And with your abilities to _teleport_ and related abilities, you should be able to be almost anywhere in minutes, if not seconds.”

“Seconds,” corrects Korm, “And for myself, any time you need me, you just need to call.” The Gatekeeper grins at the other Angels. “These guys are big enough to take care of themselves if I’m gone for a little bit.” He pats the hilt of the blade strapped to his back. “And I was given this so it can be used against aberrations, especially the forces of Xoriat. So call on me at any time and, unless I am fighting for my life elsewhere, I shall be there.”

Luna snorts. “And me. You need a _real_ druid for such things, and I’d just have to save Korm anyway. So I’m available any time some aberrations need killing.”

“Especially if they have good furnishings,” chuckles Korm, and after a quick glare, Luna laughs too. 

Saala nods. “Thank you.” Then she sighs and rubs her forehead again. “I wish you best of luck. Is there anything you need to know from us or any aid we can provide? Though, in this situation and with your current status, I’m not sure we can do anything for you beyond offering our gratitude.”

“Actually,” says Luna, “Is there anyone else that can go to Argonnessen to ask for aid? Someone who they would be more likely to listen to? Like those damn dragonmarked people? It seems like a waste to have us go to negotiate when there are others who are more capable on that score. We are fighters, not talkers!”

Saala looks a little surprised at the suggestion. “I’m not really sure what sort of aid we could provide in this regard. From all that you’ve told us, Argonnessen is incredibly dangerous, so anyone we send with you would be at great risk. And we need the most skilled and powerful of our people here. Especially since I don’t think the dragons would care any the more about any of us than they would about your opinions. But if you wish, I will try to find someone who is willing to make the journey with you. I can’t send anyone instead of you, since nobody here knows Argonnessen, nor could they travel there and back without your aid.” She looks around the group. “Are you certain that’s what you want?”

Gareth quickly raises a hand to put her at ease. “Saala, I think you are correct in your assessment that anyone you send with us would be in terrible danger.” He continues, looking at Luna as much as at the Gatekeepers, “As we have seen, the dragons tend to give some attention to dragonmarks, and due to the ones Nameless and I carry, this may buy us time and attention when speaking with the dragons. There is nobody on this planet that I would want to do what we have to. While it is extremely dangerous, we are as a group the most powerful in Eberron.”

The paladin continues, ignoring Korm’s chuckle and Luna’s muttered comment of ‘someone’s cocky!’, “Alone we stand no chance, but together we have as good a chance as any. So, Saala, we will be going to Argonnessen, and no, we do not need any company. If you happen to have any scrolls, potions, or magic items that may help us in our travels, then that would be appreciated. But if you do not, then that is not a problem. I only ask because our last few battles have not returned any significant treasure to replenish our supplies. But, as always, we will go either way.”

Saala bows and says, “Thank you. Unfortunately, we have no magical supplies to provide you right now, partly because our scattered nature means that we normally only have much as the individual Gatekeeper uses, and partly because our resources will all be needed for this conflict. But I will see if we can do something for you. Some of our most powerful members will be attempting a number of druidic rituals to prepare and aid us in the battles to come. They take at least a day and perhaps more to do, so they cannot aid you immediately. I will let you know when they commence and see if you have time and opportunity to be involved in them and gain their benefits. Is there anything else? And will you be staying here or leaving today?”

Gareth turns to his companions. “That all depends on the spells we have left, as far as teleportation, and any other preparations we need.”

Nameless, who has simply been watching and listening, finally speaks up. “I used my most powerful ones today, but I have a few _teleport_s left. And Luna and Korm have their _master earth_ spells too, which can take us to Argonnessen. But I recommend we visit Sharn to re-equip and find out a little more of the situation in Khorvaire before we leave.” 

With nobody disagreeing, the Angels take their leave of the Gatekeepers and depart, as soon as they have exited the _rope trick_. 

* * *

When the Angels arrive in the Gray House in Sharn, they find things much the same. Fett greets them shortly after their arrival. “How is everything with you? There’s not much to report here, but we’re hearing rumors of some strange creatures attacking here and there in Breland – and rumor says, elsewhere in Khorvaire.” He looks curiously at the Angels. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”

Gareth shrugs, “Does it matter if we are responsible? It seems people will almost assuredly blame us for all the bad and all the good that happens on this planet. All we can do is try to minimize the bad and maximize the good. Anything else going on in Sharn?” 

Fett chuckles. “I know, but it does seem that you are all involved whenever something newsworthy happens recently. But no, nothing of particular interest going on right now. Long Shadows* is starting tomorrow, as you know, but that’s about it. It rarely causes any trouble in Sharn, but the Watch will have a little extra security on the streets anyway.”

Gareth grins too. “You are probably right. This holiday is wrong, but it’s not a concern – at least not for us.” He turns to the others. “What are you planning to do? I want to visit Lalia, but I should be back later in the evening.”

Luna quickly chips in, “We need to sell the crystal ball! And I need to buy some things for the house in Karrnath. I hope your family’s arranged a good architect, Gareth.”

“My family,” the paladin replies with a roll of his eyes, “Might be a little busy right now. But I’m going. Nameless, will you handle the crystal ball?”

“Yes,” says the alienist. “I need to visit the mage guild anyway, to pick up some scrolls I have in mind. And do a little research.”

Six immediately reaches into a pouch and produces a folded parchment. “Here. Could you pick these up too? I need to replenish the things I lost when you guys, well, you know.” Seeing Fett looking at him quizzically, the warforged adds, “I got mugged by a dragon. Long story.”

“As always,” says Fett, “I’m sure I’m better off not knowing, and you can tell me what I need to know whenever you want.” He takes his leave, and the Angels also quickly depart and go their separate ways. 

While Nameless descends to the mage guild in Middle Tavick’s Landing, Six walks over to see the warforged artificer Stone. As he had hoped, Stone has completed work on the spiked chain that he had commissioned over a week ago, specifically enchanted to slay aberrations. Having collected it and paid Stone, Six descends into the lower levels of Sharn, heading towards the Cogs and the warforged who dwell there.

Meanwhile, Luna transforms into an excessively large dire bat and Korm sprouts his cloaker-like wings. Then they fly over to Central Plateau, giving Gareth a ride and causing the odd unwary skycoach-driver to panic momentarily as he sees the strange trio heading for him. Arriving at Central Plateau, the druids drop Gareth off and head up towards Carosten Park, planning to speak to Surr’kal about the situation with Xoriat. The paladin proceeds to the Deneith enclave and then, learning that she is at home, to Lalia’s house. 

Lalia is mildly surprised to see Gareth and quite obviously happy. Once they are comfortably seated in her living room, she asks what he has been up to. He proceeds to describe his recent adventures, without stating anything about the discovery regarding the seals.

When he gets to his death and return, Gareth is interrupted by an understandably horrified Lalia. After she ascertains some of the details and that he is all right, he receives a lot of hugging and kissing, followed by being smacked quite solidly over the head and yelled at for not taking care of himself, followed by more hugging and kissing, followed by more smacking. 

Once Lalia has stopped kissing and beating him, a fairly pink and slightly embarrassed Gareth promises to take better care of himself and also informs her of his impending trip back to Argonnessen. 

Lalia frowns, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’ve already got into enough trouble while there, and maybe your skills are better used here.”

“No, I am not sure,” admits Gareth, “But we need extra help and the people and creatures that live in Argonnessen are far more powerful then we have here. They would be an invaluable asset in this war. Gaining allies would be much more profitable in the long run than focusing simply on battle. Small victories will not scare Xoriat into retreat – but a decisive victory in a major battle may make them think twice.”

“I hope you’re right,” says Lalia, though she looks and sounds a little unconvinced. “Tell me more about Argonnessen, then. And these powerful allies you hope to gain.”

Gareth proceeds to do so, but after a while, he says, “I have something else I wanted to speak to you about.” He draws a deep breath, reaches out to take her hand, and says, “Have you reconsidered my proposal?” His expression leaves no doubt about what he is referring to.

Lalia looks surprised and then says slowly, “I have ... considered it again more than once, but given the current ... situation, do you think that’s something you really want to offer me? Shouldn’t you be focusing on more, well, important things?” She looks at him curiously. Gareth gets the impression that there’s a specific answer she’s looking for, but he can’t be certain what it is.

Thinking carefully over his words, he says slowly, but with certainty, “I have thought about it for a long time, and it is something I want to offer you with all of my heart. Marriage does not mean I will be placed into confinement and not allowed to proceed with my work, and neither will you. Just like you will still be a Sentinel Marshal of House Deneith, I will still be a Guardian Angel. And once this war is over, we will be able to resume a more normal life – and who knows, now that I have a Siberys Mark I may be eligible to be a full-blown member of the house too. So, to answer your question – I think this is as good a time as any. Due to our lives there may never be a suitable time, by normal standards. But you are the person I wish to be with and not even the hordes of Xoriat can change that.”

Lalia holds Gareth’s gaze for a long moment and then a broad grin splits her face. Without removing her hand from Gareth’s grasp, she reaches up with her other hand to tousle his hair. “You, my dear, are really sweet. And a little insane. And sometimes a bit of an idiot, I think.” She takes a deep breath and then continues, “But I must be too, since I love you. And yes. Yes! I will marry you!”

Gareth has precisely three seconds of surprise and shock and two of joy, before he is being soundly kissed and then fighting Lalia off as she tries to get his armor off in order to celebrate the glad occasion. 


* Long Shadows is the 3-day long festival of the Shadow (CE deity of dark magic and the corruption of nature) from 26-28 Vult, during which minions of darkness attempt to create some extra mayhem in worship of their god.


----------



## shilsen

While Gareth is celebrating his engagement with Lalia, Six is at Onatar’s Forge in the Cogs, speaking to the warforged priest Smith about all the things he has discovered recently. Among other things, he describes his encounter with the warforged in the Mournland at the Lord of Blades’ old camp. When Smith asks if there was actually a creation forge there, Six says, “Yes. Some of the warforged were priests of the Lord of Blades, I think, but I don’t believe they can use the forge. They are completely distrustful of non-warforged and warforged that work with House Cannith.”

“But,” he continues, “They are a less important issue now. There are two bigger problems. One is the harnesses. Have you heard anything new about them?”

“No,” says Smith, sounding slightly puzzled. “I have heard nothing new, other than that House Cannith has apparently ceased offering them to our people.”

“I think I know why,” says Six. “So there is no news about whether they have succeeding at removing any harnesses that are currently being used by warforged?” 

“No,” says Smith. “Why?”

“Because of the quori.” Six proceeds to explain whatever he knows about the harnesses and the manner in which they and their wearers can be possessed. “In short,” he concludes, “The harnesses give great power at great cost. Aside from the physical boosts to the user, the quori are very powerful. Some might think to bargain with the quori in the tough times ahead. And some who do so won’t be warforged. Which reminds me,” he changes tack for a moment, “If you can come up with another name than warforged let me know. It gives people the wrong impression.”

“And,” Six continues, “That brings me to the other matter. A war with the aberrations of Xoriat is here. Trust me. You’ll learn about it soon enough. This situation will present mercenaries great opportunities. Spread the word that no one should trade their services cheaply.”

Smith is naturally very interested in the issue of the quori, but this interest is surmounted by curiosity about the war with Xoriat, which he has even more questions about. After asking some and having them answered, he returns to the issue of mercenaries, asking a trifle dourly, “So you think the nations will want to make substantial use of the warforged as troops again? Do you think it is a good idea for our people to be involved? Or will they even have a choice?”

Six says with certainty, “We will be pressed into service again. This will be a desperate struggle, but within it lie opportunities for concrete gains, lands, and autonomy. One of my comrades goes on about a pirate warforged nation,” he chuckles, “And though her ideas are strange, I think seafaring might be a good set of skills for us to develop as a community. I’m just musing out loud here.” 

Smith nods, though his posture bespeaks some confusion, and then says, “Clearly you are better informed about this situation than any of us in Sharn. And even if not, I would take your opinions very seriously. What do you think our response should be?”

“Firstly,” Six says, “Even if not directly related to the war, stay away from the quori as much as possible. It’s difficult to find a good bargaining position with those possessing you. And if dealing with them through a possessed warforged, I suggest staying away from long-term negotiation. An immediate bargain, if any, would be better. The kalashtar, in case you didn’t know, are strongly opposed to the quori and might be able to help deal with them too.”

“Very well,” says Smith. “As for the war and our role in it, in view of what you said I’m thinking of perhaps trying to organize some sort of representation for those warforged joining the war. Is that something you would be able to help with? Or want to?”

“Yes, but that depends on what I am doing and how free I am,” says Six. “Making sure that the warforged receive adequate payment would be good. And preferably, as I said, some lands and autonomy. I’m thinking an island would be especially good, partly because it would separate us from the people of Khorvaire and partly because we could defend it better.” Six chuckles again as he thinks of Luna. “We’ll just have to make sure that they’re warned that if a large female druid visits, they need to pretend to be pirates.”

As Smith stares at Six in confusion, the latter laughs and says, “It’s a complicated story. I’ll tell you another time. Now let me discuss some ideas with you…”

* * * 
After leaving Smith, Six travels up to Morgrave University and hands over the book he had picked up on the “History of Io’lokar” as a personal gift to the library. After speaking to a couple of surprised, originally skeptical, and then grateful scholars on the subject of his visit to Argonnessen, he leaves the book with them, saying that he might have more books on the subject to provide later. And that he hopes, though he makes no demands, that he will be allowed access to the library’s – and general University’s – more esoteric holdings.

After Morgrave University, Six visits the local chapter of the Wayfarer’s Guild and talks to them about membership. The Wayfarer representatives he meets are interested enough once they learn who he is, and even more so once he produces a map that he drew of Io’lokar and provides some information about his visit to Argonnessen. After providing a number of details (which omits some salient aspects) about his trip, Six leaves, promising to return at some point in the future. Before he does, the Wayfarers ask if Six – and perhaps the other Angels – would be interested in helping with an expedition to Argonnessen. “Perhaps, if we have the time,” says Six, _Though I think I – and you – will be busy with other things for a while now._

* * *
When Six finally returns to the Gray House, it is to find Gareth in the sitting room with a long-suffering expression on his face and Luna animatedly discussing something with him.

“What’s going on?” Six asks. “And do I want to know?”

Korm, watching with an amused expression, laughingly explains. “Lalia agreed, so Gareth’s getting married to her. At some point. But Luna’s all excited and is already making plans for the wedding. And apparently to be all of the bridesmaids, the best man, and an usher all at once. And to host the bachelor party as well.”

Nameless, wandering past, pauses and says dryly, “This is why Xoriat doesn’t scare me,” and continues on to his room.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, during breakfast, the Angels receive the _sending_s which now seem to be almost a daily part of their routine. The first sending is from Elabenna, the Io’lokari sage – “I am still waiting for your return. When will you be in Io’lokar next? Looking forward to discussing what you discovered.” Korm, who receives it, discusses it quickly with the others and replies, “We will be there today. Wish to discuss getting Io’lokari to aid with Xoriat situation in Khorvaire. Also wish to meet with members of the Chamber.”

Serendipitously, the next _sending_ is from the Chamber dragon Essirise, this one to Nameless –  “Have asked for conclave of Chamber leaders. Will occur in two days in the Tapestry. Suggest you return to Io’lokar tomorrow to meet me.” The alienist replies, “Thank you. We will be there later today to meet Elabenna and hoping to find allies from the city. Will see you there.”  

Gareth too receives a _sending_, this one from closer to home. It is his mother, saying, “Royal troops here to take us to safe location. Considering going to Sentinel Tower instead. Do you have a preference? And are you safe?” Pleased at the news, Gareth replies, “Sentinel Tower is a good choice. I am safe. Lalia said ‘Yes.’ Am making plans for wedding. Will visit when I can.”

“Well, that message will get her excited enough for a while now,” comments Korm. “I wonder if anyone else will contact us now.”

“At least one,” points out Luna as Fett walks in carrying a large, Sivis-sealed envelope. She frowns. “I hope it’s not someone offering us another job.”

Luna’s suspicions quickly turn to first pleasure and then glee as the contents of the envelope are revealed. The first document is a letter thanking the Guardian Angels for their gallantry, signed by King Boranel, King Kaius, Queen Aurala and Jaela Daran. Accompanying it is a letter from the Kundarak bank in Sharn, informing them that 50,000 galifars have been placed in its vaults in their names. And the last document is a legal document certifying that the Angels, as a group, are owners of the Gray House, which has been irrevocably granted to them by King Boranel, for their services to the crown. 

“Well,” says Luna, rising to her feet with a grin that threatens to decapitate her, “I need to go out for a bit.”

“Why?” asks Gareth suspiciously, as she picks up the third of the documents.

“And who’s going to be sorry?” chuckles Korm.

“I’m just going to make a hundred copies and drop one off at each of our neighbours!”

True to her word, Luna does leave and return a while later, still grinning broadly. “They were _not_ amused. It was glorious! I think I made at least three people cry!” 

After expounding at length about how much fun she’d had, Luna also mentions the fact that there is a lot of commotion and significant alarm in Sharn, and for once, not due to her. Official announcements have been made in various places about the planar invasion from Xoriat and that Breland is going to a state of war, as are the other nations. More news is also coming in about attacks by aberrations across Breland and elsewhere. Naturally, people are quite surprised, confused, scared and angry. Especially since most have no idea what Xoriat is. “I tried to explain to some of them,” says Luna, “But it didn’t seem to help.”

“I wonder why,” says Nameless, before addressing the group. “Are we all ready to go?” When the others say they are, he turns to Korm. “I suggest you use a _master earth_ spell, so that I can save my _greater teleport_ for emergencies, since your spell requires us all to be in the _portable hole_.”

“Sure,” says the Gatekeeper, “But we’ve got to go down to the lower levels first. I have to be in contact with the earth, or at least closer to it than this place is, to use it.” 

* * * 
A few minutes later, the guards standing atop some of the towers of Io’lokar see Korm erupt suddenly from the earth near the main gate. Once he drops the _portable hole_ and the others emerge, they are quickly recognized and allowed in. A couple of the guards inform them that Elabenna had sent news that they should be allowed in as soon as they arrive, and that she is expecting them. 

A short time later, the Angels are seated in a comfortable meeting room in the Colleges of Io’lokar, with Elabenna asking them a stream of questions regarding everything they saw and learned there, and a young scribe taking down their answers. The Angels provide a detailed coverage of their experiences, only omitting all information about the relationship between the dimensional seals and blood magic. 

Once she has covered every piece of information in detail, Elabenna says, “Thank you very much for all your information and efforts. I have to admit that I hadn’t expected you to be so successful. Now I have just one question – would you be willing to return?”

“Definitely,” says Gareth, even as Luna firmly says, “No!”

Elabenna looks back and forth in surprise as an argument promptly breaks out, till Nameless interrupts, his raspy tone as diplomatic as he can make it. “As you can see, this is something we will need to discuss further among ourselves. But if we decide that we are able and wish to return, we shall inform you.”

“Yes,” adds Six quickly. “And since it seems that the myth about people not being able to find Khesavuthir more than once might be true, it may work better to have others from Io’lokar try to find the place following our directions. And if we are going to go too, we could follow them. Also, remember, I cannot return there due to my pact with the dragon.”

“What difference does a promise to an evi…,” begins Gareth, before Nameless again cuts him off. “As Six said, it’s more than just a promise. And I too am in no hurry to encounter Xagygyrag again, without substantially more firepower at our disposal.” He turns slightly to their hostess. “As you see, Elabenna, we can make no promises yet. But, as I said, we will inform you of our decision.”

Seeing that arguing will not help, Gareth changes subjects. “There is something else I wished to ask you, Elabenna. We have great problems in Khorvaire with the invasion from Xoriat that I mentioned to you. There is more power in Io’lokar than in any kingdom in Khorvaire and I’m hoping to garner some support for our cause here. Could you suggest how I might best do so? Who should I speak to?”

Elabenna looks surprised again at this query and takes a few seconds before she responds. “I doubt that many here will be interested in the affairs of Khorvaire, and especially not in traveling there. Still, you may find some in the Union of the Shield or of the Spear who will be. There’s a weekly martial tournament held at the Dragon Green, a large park you probably saw on the way here. Many people will be there to take part and watch. If you participate yourselves, you can meet and speak to them. Also, if any of you win, though I sincerely doubt it will happen, or do well then it would gain you some notoriety and good-will in the city. The next tournament occurs tomorrow, and it’s likely that you would have received an invitation if you had been in the city a little longer, since visitors to the city are often invited. Since you arrived recently, I will arrange one for you.”

* * * * * * * * * *
Elabenna is true to her word and the next day, the Angels join a large gathering of people at the Dragon Green. The park is huge, the largest in the city, and contains shrines to all fifteen of the dragon Sovereigns. A section has been set apart from the rest, with stands for spectators and seats set up, including a few for dragons. A good-sized crowd is present, including a pair of dragons. The smaller is a copper dragon a dozen feet from nose to tail, who is surrounded by a dozen people, whom he is regaling with stories. Sitting in solitary splendor a short distance away is a much larger gold dragon, perhaps twice his length.

A couple of the Angels, especially Gareth, move around and introduce themselves to people, many of whom are politely curious to see them. As Elabenna had opined, a number of those present wear the insignia of the Shield or of the Spear, especially the former. A small gathering of them, who are clearly older, seem to be of higher rank. The one whom Gareth finds that they are especially deferential to is an aged half-elf bearing no insignia at all, who introduces himself as Nalyna. He wears an unusual holy symbol, which the paladin realizes is one dedicated to the dragon gods as a whole.

The introductions are cut short as lots are drawn to assign competitors to their opposition, and an elderly priest from the House of Life announces the basic rules. Duels will be between individual foes and lethal force may be used, though he reassures contestants that anyone dropped – or killed – will be revived. Contestants get twenty seconds to use magic items or spells to prepare themselves. Magic may be used directly to harm enemies, but only after the initial preparation period. 

Out of the Angels, Nameless and Six are not participating, so the others toss their names into the pile from which lots will be drawn. Korm is the first to go, having drawn a much smaller human opponent, who fights with flail and shield. The Gatekeeper quickly discovers that his opponent is quite canny, focusing on defense yet swinging powerful blows through any chinks in his defense. Once he even manages to spin Korm off his feet and disarm him of the meteoric blade he wields, before the Gatekeeper quickly gets up and recovers it. Finally, the bruised and battered Korm has to draw on the orcish battle-fury of his ancestors to keep himself on his feet while he launches a series of increasingly powerful blows, until his opponent surrenders.

Gareth’s first foe is another warrior, this one wielding an adamantine greatsword larger than the Endless Blade. This is a battle of little finesse and mostly brute force, both enemies chopping at the other till one drops. Luckily for Gareth, it is his foeman, whom a nearby priest has to hurry and heal before he dies of his considerable wounds.

While Korm’s and Gareth’s fights draw a fair amount of applause and appreciation, Luna’s is a whole other matter. Faced by a warrior-priest who uses magic to grow to an imposing height, the druid uses characteristically idiosyncratic tactics. To the confusion of those watching, she begins by producing a potion from a pouch and placing it on the ground. Then she transforms into a tendriculos, towering far above the enlarged cleric. And then the tendriculos picks up the potion, drinks it, and turns _invisible_. Which is followed a moment later by her thin voice saying, “Boo!”

As the priest gapes at the space she occupied, people begin to laugh, the copper dragon’s loud guffaws ringing about them. The priest’s face reddens and he gestures quickly bringing a column of divine flame down before him. The flames momentarily outline Luna’s huge shape and she emits a loud “ouch!” as she rolls forward. A second later there is a loud impact and the priest hits the ground and quickly rolls over, though not of his own accord. The still smoldering tendriculos appears, half resting on the unfortunate man’s back and legs, one huge tentacle forcing his right arm painfully around his back, and another pushing his face into the ground. “Say you quit!” she cries, bringing her weight to bear and rolling back and forth. “Oh, and ‘I think Luna is beautiful!’”

More laughter erupts, and the sound of reptilian choking as the copper dragon – now lying on its side – stuffs its left forefoot into its mouth to stifle its laughter. Even the haughty-looking gold dragon’s lips twitch as she tries to hide a smile and fails.

The spectators’ laughter is cut off by a sickening crack and the screams of the priest as he yells, “I surrender! I surrender!” 

Luna rolls off the man and lets him up, but he needs the aid of two of the available healers before he can arise. The druid turns and waves her tentacles to acknowledge the applause and laughter of the crowd, before shrinking back to her shifter form and joining the others. “_That’s_ how you do it!” 

After her victory, the Angels are the cynosure of all eyes at the tournament. Unfortunately, that is about as far as they advance, Gareth and Korm lasting only one more duel before elimination, and Luna two. That does, however, confirm for Gareth the quality of the warriors in Io’lokar, and gives him some hope of attracting aid. 

But Gareth’s best opportunity to that end arises from an unexpected source. As the final duels are taking place, the elderly half-elven warrior Nalyna walks over to Six and says, “I hope you won’t find this rude, but I’ve never had the pleasure of dueling someone of your species. And your weapon is very interesting, one that I’ve seen only a couple of times before. Would you grant me the honor of exchanging a few passes with you?” 

Though surprised, Six accedes to the request and the two move a little distance from where the more official duels are taking place. As his companions follow, so does a large part of the crowd, many of them murmuring among themselves. Even some of those busy with or still engaged in the competition’s duels look wistfully after them. When the spectators following the pair stop and form a circle to watch, Korm asks one of them, “Who’s this guy, and why so much interest?”

The man looks at Korm as if he’s crazy and then understanding dawns. “Ah, you’re new to Io’lokar. That’s Nalyna. He used to head the Union of the Shield for nearly two centuries. He’s the most skilled and respected weapon-master in the city, and author of the definitive encyclopedia on fighting styles. He normally doesn’t duel openly, so it’s an honor to see him at work.”

_This should be interesting!_ Korm whistles under his breath and turns to look at the combatants. Nalyna, who is unarmored and wielding only a longsword, albeit one with red and blue flames running up the blade, casts a _mage armor_ spell and then clicks his fingers, causing a shield to appear in his hand. He touches his holy symbol and concentrates, and the shield begins to glow with a golden light. 

Nalyna then salutes Six, keenly studying the warforged, whose form is wreathed in the shadows emanating from his harness. “Please,” the half-elven warrior says, “Begin.”

Having picked up enough information from the people in the crowd talking amongst themselves, Six hesitates for a moment and then decides that this is a fight where his usual strike-and-move style needs to be even more focused on the movement. He comes in with a whirl of his chain, feinting high and striking low, the shadows flowing along the chain making the weapon difficult to discern as he tries to snap it around his foe’s ankle. Even so, Nalyna adjusts his shield at the very last second, interposing it and letting the spikes bounce harmlessly off the surface. He steps in with a slash but Six is already leaping backwards, ending up a dozen feet away. 

Nalyna’s face shows no surprise, simply a quiet interest. “Fascinating,” he says, calmly striding forward, sword and shield at the ready.

_Okay, try blocking this._ Six steps forward and the shadows swirl around him – and then disappear, along with every trace of the warforged, though Korm and Luna can still see the faint shimmer which reveals his invisible form. And apparently so can Nalyna, as his sword comes up to deflect the invisible attack, though this time he can’t fully block it and takes a light blow to the arm. The weapon-master strikes back quickly and despite the invisibility Six feels the blade rasp along his side and the mingled heat and cold of the magical flames as he retreats again.

As Six’s invisibility wears off, Nalyna follows him, sword moving in a complicated pattern which none of the Angels have ever seen, and which combines with the shield to present a defense Six realizes he cannot penetrate. _He’s way out of my league – but I have a few surprises._ The warforged retreats momentarily, the shadows again whirling around him. And again, when they disappear, he is gone. 

But this time, he is not invisible. Instead, a swirl of shadow rises and instantly dissipates behind Nalyna’s unprotected back, leaving Six behind. The warforged strikes immediately and even though Nalyna spins quickly, the chain smacks into his shoulder. Taking the blow, he comes in under it, sword first. Six whirls the chain into a deflecting pattern, and then realizes too late that it was a feint as the shield swings powerfully into his unprotected side. 

Rolling with the blow, Six hits the ground and comes up on his feet in an instant, expecting Nalyna to come in after him. But the weapon-master simply stands there, looking at him for a moment. Then he salutes again and lowers his sword. As the flames along the blade dissipate, he sheathes it and smiles. “You have a fascinating fighting style. Thank you. That was very interesting.” 

As Nalyna bows and walks towards Six, the audience applaud and begin to break up, some walking up to join them and others beginning to drift back to the tournament. The other Angels walk over too, and Six introduces them to Nalyna. The aged warrior greets them politely, but it’s clear that his interest is primarily in Six. Once the introductions are over, he says to the warforged, “I’m very interested in your fighting techniques and how that harness and those shadows play into it. If you have some free time, could I persuade you to come to my home and let me study some of your techniques?”

“Your home?” asks Luna, “Is it nice? And will there be fo…”

Gareth sighs and quickly interrupts, “We would be pleased to do so. We are fairly new to Io’lokar and had not actually made final arrangements about where we would stay tonight.”

“In that case,” says Nalyna, clearly pleased, “You are welcome to stay at my home. There is more than enough space for all of you and it is in the Terrace, so it is close by.”

“Good,” says Luna, glaring at Gareth for the interruption and then talking loudly before he can, “You see, we’re here to find some allies who could help us deal with this invasion from Xoriat by this army, well, probably many armies, of aberrations led by these daelkyr guys. We’ve been fighting them for a bit and kicked a lot of ass, but there are too many for us to handle, so if any of you want to come over and join in the fun, we’d appreciate it.”

While the Io’lokari stare at her in some confusion and Korm tries to hold back his laughter, Gareth mutters, “Oh, my god!” under his breath and opens his mouth.

But Luna isn’t done yet, and she continues, “Plus everyone keeps trying to give us these stupid jobs, and we have better things to do. _I_ have a house to decorate. Two houses, actually, now that the king of Breland gave us the Gray House. The king’s a very nice man, by the way, and hunky in an older man kinda way. He’s on our side too. If you come with us, I’ll introduce you. And he’ll probably reward you and all.”

_“Oh … my … god!”_ thinks Gareth, wondering when it will be over.

“And actually,” Luna continues, blissfully ignoring the expressions around her, “We know lots of kings. And queens. And princes. Prince Ryger ir’Wynarn,” she announces proudly, “Is my boyfriend. He’s the ruler of all of the Lhazaar Principalities.” She beams around and then her expression shifts slightly, taking on a faintly predatory cast, as she focuses on a tall warrior, standing beside her with a confused expression on his handsome face. “But I haven’t seen him in a long while!” 

_“OH … MY … GOD!!!”_

As Luna finally falls silent, Gareth hurriedly says, “As my companion was saying, there is a serious problem in Khorvaire and I hoped we might get some aid from Io’lokar. I especially wished to talk to some people at the Union of the Spear and the Union of the Shield about it.”

Nalyna, who has been looking as puzzled as anyone else, nods and says, “That sounds interesting. Let us head to my home and you can tell us more there, and maybe I can put you in touch with some people in both organizations.”

The weapon-master leads the Angels away from the Dragon Green, and half a dozen of the Io’lokari present accompany them. Luna brings up the rear, her arm linked through that of the unfortunate man who has drawn her attention, explaining to him as they walk how her boyfriend and she have a very open relationship. Very!


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:


> The weapon-master leads the Angels away from the Dragon Green, and half a dozen of the Io’lokari present accompany them. Luna brings up the rear, her arm linked through that of the unfortunate man who has drawn her attention, explaining to him as they walk how her boyfriend and she have a very open relationship. Very!




::chuckles::

Shilsen, did you actually take the time to fully generate all the (presumably) high level foes the PCs faced?  And if so, how long did a process like that take?


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## shilsen

Vorput said:


> ::chuckles::




Luckily for the NPC, he managed to make his escape when the others left. Luna was distracted arguing with Gareth about the planned return to fight Gary Gygax. That argument is now a salient (or maybe not) part of every session 



> Shilsen, did you actually take the time to fully generate all the (presumably) high level foes the PCs faced?  And if so, how long did a process like that take?




Nope. It was part shorthand and part handwaving. I didn't want to run through a bunch of individual duels while everyone else sat around, so what I did was do one duel each which let the PC involved strut his stuff, and just handwave the fact that eventually they got beaten (which would have happened). And for the NPCs they fought, I had HP, AC, saves, attack/damage, and the few maneuvers/spells/tactics they'd get to use. That's it. Saved me a LOT of time.


----------



## shilsen

*Handled on forums:*

Nalyna’s home is a palatial set of apartments in the Terrace, the second tier of the city and the same one which the Dragon Green is in. Half a dozen people, consisting of friends and former students or colleagues of the retired weapon-master, accompany him and the Angels as they travel to his home. One named Honar, a captain in the wyvern-riders known as the Union of the Spear, mentions as they walk that Nalyna could live among the higher tiers of the city and even among the city’s Masters (who he is qualified to join) in the highest level, in the Bastion, if he so chose. But because he is more interested in martial matters and knows so many in the Shield and the Spear, he prefers to dwell here.

Once they reach the house, Nalyna asks his guests to make themselves comfortable on the huge verandah and leaves to arrange for drinks and light refreshments. Returning in a few minutes, he hands Six a bulky tome titled _The Way of the Warrior_, the definitive treatise of fighting styles that he penned during his retirement. “Keep it,” he smiles. “You might find it handy.” His smile broadens. “And maybe I’ll add something on your style in an expansion or appendix. So tell me, anyway, where did you learn to fight like that?”

Six relates the tale of Mordain’s enhancements to his form and the harness, explaining how the Fleshweaver augmented the harness’ capabilities and his own abilities with the spiked chain, making them meld together into an apparently unique martial style, one which he is only gradually learning more of.

Nalyna listens with great interest to Six’s story and at one point excuses himself, returning with a notepad. He makes quite copious notes, asking questions at various points. The other Io’lokari, all of whom are apparently warriors of some form or another, also listen with interest, if somewhat less avid than his. When Six finishes, Nalyna says, “That has got to be one of the strangest sources for an unusual martial technique that I’ve heard of. If you don’t mind, maybe you could give me a more detailed demonstration of your abilities later in the day? I’m curious how they intersect with your natural abilities as a construct, if you don’t mind me saying so, and how they could be used – assuming they can – by someone lacking your nature and that harness. It’s a fascinating subject, and I really appreciate that you have shared this with me. Thank you!”

The aged warrior then looks over at the other Angels and smiles. “And thank you for your patience with an old man’s questions. Now you can tell me, and my friends, about this request for aid that you have come here with.”

Pleased that the discussion has switched to this subject, Gareth gives Luna a look, hoping she will not interrupt. But the druid, who has quickly got bored during Six’s discussion, is busy sitting at one side and chatting up the young warrior that she latched onto at the tournament. Relieved, the paladin quickly outlines the situation in Khorvaire and the invasion from Xoriat, as well as the certain rise of existing aberrations from the bowels of Khyber and other areas. 

“And,” he explains, “While Khorvaire is large and its people have great power and courage, this power is spread throughout the land. The forces from Xoriat will be in concentrated groups and they can pick us off one by one. When they are finished with Khorvaire, they will surely invade Argonnessen in their quest to claim the entire world.” He pauses, giving his audience a moment to consider that. “I have seen a little and been told much of the power of Argonnessen. But while Argonnessen may defeat Xoriat, there are some things to consider. Without the help of Khorvaire, the losses will be greater here, and the chances of Xoriat winning would increase, since they would have a strong foothold on this world in Khorvaire.”

“What we need,” Gareth continues, “Is to work together. And in Khorvaire, we need to find allies who would be willing to help fight the forces of Xoriat. We need allies who could help recruit more new allies while we are fighting. That is what we are here for.” He pauses again and then adds, “We also have a smaller matter to deal with. We would like to head back to the lair of a dragon in Argonnessen and take him down. This dragon has invaluable information – both in his lair and in his head – but, alas, he is very evil and very powerful.”

Korm promptly smacks his forehead as Gareth throws in a reference to Xagygyrag, causing Nalyna to glance at him curiously before he replies to Gareth. “I’m too old to be traipsing around Argonnessen, leave alone Khorvaire. Not that I was ever that interested in things beyond Io’lokar, actually. As you’ll find to be true of most people here.” As he says that, some of the others present nod, and Nalyna smiles slightly and continues, “But as I promised, I’ll get word of your request out to some people I know.” 

At this point, Honar speaks up. “Personally, I could stand to do some traipsing,” he says, drawing a broader grin from Nalyna and amused chuckles from a couple of others. “And while I’m not sure I’d like to actually go to Khorvaire, going to other parts of Argonnessen, especially if it is a short trip, would be possible. What is this dragon you wish to fight?”

Gareth quickly tells Honar a little about the group’s battle with Xagygyrag and what happened. “We would like to find a way back there, though Six may not be able, to deal with this dragon. To say that he is immensely evil is an understatement.”

“I am blood bound not to return,” adds Six, “But if you wish to go, I suggest finding out as much as you can about what the protector of Khesavuthir would have at his disposal.”

The hearers perk up at the name. “Khesavuthir?” asks one, half disbelievingly, “You found the Black Well and returned to tell of it? Very impressive!”

Another says, “Mistress Elabenna at the Colleges will be very pleased to hear of this. She’s been trying to find it for nearly a century now.”

“Ah, yes!” says Nalyna, “That reminds me – I thought I’d heard of you in passing recently. I’d been told that you had spoken to Elabenna. I presume she’s one of the reasons you went looking for Khesavuthir. Congratulations on your success, partial as it may be.”

While the others might be intrigued, Honar beams at the information. “The rediscovery of the Black Well and the defeat of its guardian? That would be a tale worth telling. Now I’m definitely interested in accompanying you to Khesavuthir, whether others come along or not.”

Gareth smiles too. _Good. But I hope more than one comes along. And how much help will he be?_ “I’m pleased, Honar. But since this will be very dangerous and our lives will depend on each other, I need to ask, what are your primary abilities? And would you mind a small duel to test our skills?”

Honar looks mildly surprised at the questions and then grins. “And here I thought you were the polite and subtle sort! Someone else might take offense to that kind of question, but I don’t mind. I’m a captain in the Spear, so I particularly specialize in fighting from wyvern-back and using a lance. I’m quite well-versed in fighting dragons. I’m less effective at fighting on foot, but even there I can hold my own. And I’d be pleased to test our skills. Or let you test mine, as I think is your intent.”

Gareth says quickly, “I most assuredly did not intend any offense. It’s just with the Six not being able to join us, we need to make sure that we are significantly more powerful than before. If we fight this dragon again I am not sure if we will be able to do so outside, and I am not sure what the flight capabilities of a wyvern are in a dragon’s lair, so you might have to be on foot.” He rises and bows, “And I appreciate you agreeing to display your skills for me.”

The others also arise and Nalyna leads them to a well-equipped gymnasium, where Gareth and Honar indulge in a short duel. Gareth quickly realizes that Honar is a superior swordsman, much more accurate and precise in his strikes, though Gareth's divinely-granted abilities let the paladin hit harder. If Honar’s skills are much better when mounted, he must be a very formidable warrior on his wyvern.

At the end of the little exchange of martial skill, Gareth steps back and bows. “Thank you again. You are a superlative warrior. To be honest, at first I did not think to go back there until we had amasses significantly more power, but with your aid it would be a lot easier. Do you think you could find anyone else to join us, especially someone of your caliber?” 

Honar replies, a trifle proudly, “I might not find people as adept as me, since I am the best wyvern rider in the Spear,” a comment which draws grins from some of the others and a teasing jest about how his ego is bigger than his spear. Ignoring them, he continues, “But perhaps I can find one or two other skilled people willing to accompany us. Maybe among some of the few guides in Io’lokar, who are willing to go into the Vast from the city. I will ask around. Also, it is likely they will want payment of some kind. What are you offering?”

“What kind of payment would you like?” asks Gareth. “We know that the dragon has many valuable items, excluding the items he stole from me.”

“Us,” points out Six, drawing a faintly embarrassed look from the paladin.

“An equal share of whatever we find there would suffice, I think,” says Honar. “Excluding the things you lost, of course. And the same for anyone who accompanies us.”

“Agreed,” says Gareth. He glances at the other Angels, some of whom are making rude comments about this plan under their breaths ad frowns slightly. “And I’ll appreciate it if you find some people. My companions will need assurance of the power we bring so we do not run into the same problem as before – such as my death and Nameless’ death.”

Honar begins to reply, saying, “I do ...,” and then stops and looks at Gareth curiously. “Your deaths? So you were both _raise_d?” The amount of magic he is used to at Io’lokar probably explains his lack of real surprise, as well as the polite curiosity on the faces of those around them.

“Not _raise_d,” clarifies Nameless, “But _clone_d by Mordain the Fleshweaver, whom Six mentioned. A powerful mage, though deficient in social niceties.”

“As Nameless has said,” adds Gareth. “We have clones – not willingly, but this time it has benefited us.” He looks at Honar. “With you, I definitely think we stand a great chance of winning. We also know some of this dragon’s strengths, which can be made into his weaknesses. And if others of your power can join us, it will help guarantee our victory. I also believe that doing this will serve us greatly. The amount of information we will get and the magical equipment we find will help us destroy Xoriat. In addition, one of the most rewarding aspects will be to destroy a horrendously evil being.”

“You left out a few ‘if’s,” says Nameless dryly, but doesn’t bother to argue with Gareth. Instead, he turns to their host, “Nalyna, do you know of any arcanists who are particularly knowledgeable about other planes or who might be interested in exchanging uncommon spells? I am ‘unique,’ so I suspect they will be willing to at least talk to me.”

Nalyna purses his lips thoughtfully. “I’m an arcanist too, but only in a limited sense, and the planes are certainly not my area of expertise. Even though none of our four Colleges specialize in the planes, you will find some people at the college of the arcane sciences who are very knowledgeable about them. You could speak to Rathuka, who is one of their premier lecturers as well as a skilled wizard. There are also some other individuals who might be able to help you. Thinrukidis, the master of the Black Stage, the largest of our theatrical amphitheaters, is a skilled bard and knows just about anything and everything. And the sage Dragana is not just a city Master but also a legendary scholar and a powerful arcanist.” He pauses and looks at Nameless thoughtfully. “How exactly are you unique?”

“You may find this disturbing,” says Nameless calmly and then manifests his Aspect, deactivating his _hat of disguise_ simultaneously. His tentacle becomes visible and his skin changes, while the numerous eyes pop into existence, blinking weirdly at those around him. The people around Nameless don’t react with as much alarm as would normally be the case in Khorvaire, but eyes widen and a couple of hands drop to weapons. Nalyna remains the calmest of all present, not twitching a muscle.

“As you can see,” explains Nameless, “I am no longer human. This is only the most blatant aspect of it. Anyone knowledgeable about the Far Realm should recognize what I am and have become. I have transcended and am the first person to do so as far as I can tell. I have made pacts with one of the Great Old Ones, who are to the daelkyr as we are to ants. But there is more I must know and time presses due to Xoriat’s invasion.”

Nalyna nods slowly. “That is ... interesting. So you have, um, connections with Xoriat? Is that a result of this invasion or something you were doing before it occurred?”

“Yes, I have connections to Xoriat that predate the invasion, though it is not really anything that I was doing. Somehow, I have been marked by Xoriat and the connections are both deep and subtle. I do not fully understand it all myself, but I have done several things with regards to Xoriat that should have been impossible.”

Nameless adds no more and some of the Io’lokari look a little uncertainly at him, clearly expecting more, and then glance at Nalyna. The aged half-elf shows no such sign, simply saying, “Very well. Perhaps your knowledge will help with persuading people to aid you,” though the tone of his voice does suggest some doubt. “Now please resume your ... er, original form.”

Once Nameless does so, the others ask a few more questions about Xoriat and Khorvaire, and Honar spends a little time talking to Gareth about Khesavuthir and Xagygyrag. By the time the discussions and explanations are done, it has been a couple of hours since the Angels arrived at Nalyna’s home. The weapon-master then calls a halt to the proceedings, saying to the other Io’lokari, “Now I must bid you all goodbye. My guests could use some rest, I think.”

The others take their leave, Honar promising to stop by the next day and discuss more details of the proposed trip to Khesavuthir. After they go, Nalyna says to the Angels, “Feel free to relax here if you wish, or in the rooms I have set aside for you. My apprentice Hiten will show you to them as and when you wish.” The young man who helped with bringing in the refreshments steps out of the shadows at the back of the verandah and bows.

Nalyna continues, “Excuse me for a few minutes. I will write and send off a couple of letters to people in the Shield and the Spear, asking them to give you a hearing.” He rises and then pauses. “And, of course, if you wish to go elsewhere in the city for some reason, you are free to leave and return when you will. Dinner will be served at seven, so I would prefer if you return before then, assuming you go out.”

The Angels thank Nalyna and do settle down to rest for a while and discuss their plans, before taking a trip around the city. Gareth asks Nalyna about his faith and is extremely interested to learn that the elderly warrior is a paladin too. When Gareth asks about Nalyna’s faith and religion in Io’lokar, the latter does take some time to speak to Gareth on the subject. Nalyna explains that he is a worshipper of the draconic gods, as almost everyone of a religious bent in Io’lokar is. Rather than worshipping one particular deity, he venerates the draconic pantheon as a whole. As for paladinhood, while he always was fairly religious, Nalyna only became a paladin when he was well-advanced in his career, receiving the gift while serving in the Shield. 

When Gareth asks about places of worship in the city, Nalyna explains that Io’lokar has always been a fairly secular city, and while there are many who have a religious bent and there are priests (and a few druids) in the city, there are no large centers of worship. There are parks which each contain a shrine to one of the draconic Sovereigns, and the Dragon Green contains shrines to them all, but they are not usually utilized for worship. People have personal shrines in their homes (as Nalyna does) and usually worship as individuals, though some may be joined by friends or like-minded individuals at times. Nalyna expresses some interest in Gareth’s own religion too, but it is clear that is more a matter of politeness than a really strong curiosity, unlike his attitude towards martial matters.

*End of forum section.*

While the Angels are out, Nameless receives a _sending_ from Essirise, saying, “I am in Io’lokar. Tell me your location and I will come see you. Are you with Nalyna? I heard that you went with him.” The alienist responds and informs her that they will see her at Nalyna’s, where they meet half an hour later.

Essirise, who arrives in her form of an elven woman, apparently knows Nalyna casually. After greeting her, the weapon-master leads her and the Angels to a chamber where they can discuss their business and discreetly withdraws. Once he is gone, Essirise quickly turns to the business of the Angels’ trip to the Tapestry the next day. 

“I have,” she explains, “Spoken to a number of members in the Chamber regarding your request and also about the general situation in Khorvaire. Tomorrow, at noon, I will _teleport_ you to a particular location in the Tapestry, where a number of Chamber members will be waiting to hear from you.”

“If you wish,” says Nameless, “I can transport us all there. I would be happy to do so.”

Essirise considers the proposal for barely a second before shaking her head. “No. It would look better if I do so. And let me caution you right now – do _not_ ever return to that area again without being invited. I know you have the power to travel there again once you have seen it, but if you do so uninvited, you might not leave alive.”

“Thank you for the warning,” says Gareth. “Is there anything else we should know?”

“A few things. Please be on your best behavior. And I suggest that you request aid, not demand it. There are dragons of the Chamber who have very divergent ideas about the Prophecy and the role of the, to them, lesser races.” There is a faint pause and then Essirise adds smoothly, “I do not share that opinion, of course. But some of my brethren disagree drastically with my thoughts on the right role for the Chamber with regard to your various species.” She pauses, looking thoughtful, and then says, “I can promise you a fair hearing, but I will make no other promises.”

“Thank you,” says Nameless. “That is all we ask for.”

With nothing more to discuss, Essirise takes her leave and departs. Shortly after she does so, Nalyna asks the Angels to join him for dinner. During the meal, he receives a messenger with a sealed envelope. After reading it, he says, “It is from the Masters of the city, asking me to request you to talk to them at your convenience, though there is no urgency. It is, I guess, likely to be something regarding your attempts to recruit people to go to Khorvaire.”

“Will there be a problem with that?” asks Gareth.

“Probably not,” says Nalyna, “But I am assuming, since I am not privy to the decisions of the Masters. Anyway, do not worry about it. Please, continue with your meal.”

* * * * *
The next day, precisely at noon, the Angels and Essirise appear near the center of a picturesque valley, where the only structure in it stands. It is a sixty foot high, featureless wall made of some gleaming white stone, akin to marble. It curves away from the viewer to left and right, forming what appears to be a neat circle some two hundred and fifty feet in diameter. 

The new arrivals find a number of dragons waiting for them, some walking or sitting majestically around the area, while a couple float languidly through the air above them. Every draconic head snaps around towards them and a couple of dragons assume a fighting stance, though they subside slowly as Essirise swiftly transforms into a huge silver dragon. When she does, some of the dragons head towards the group, though others simply watch from a distance.

“Welcome to Vorel’arux, the Valley of Beauty,” says Essirise quietly to the Angels, a thrill of pride mingling with a note of wariness in her voice. “Be on your best behavior.” Then she falls silent, looking attentively at the largest of the dragons approaching them, a gargantuan bronze wyrm that dwarfs all the others. 

Nameless, having already cast a _telepathic bond_ before they left, says over the link, _“What she said. We’ll let Gareth do the talking. If anyone wants something said, we discuss it mentally before he says it. Including you, Gareth!” _ 

_“Sure,”_ responds the paladin. _“I have no intention of getting us killed here.”_

The approaching dragons, meanwhile, have reached the group. As they do, Essirise takes a couple of steps forward and bows her long neck before the giant bronze. “Jancarlyrix – this is an honor!”

The bronze inclines his head slightly. “Essirise. I heard of this … situation and was free, so I thought I would attend. Hopefully it will be … educational.”

“I believe so,” says Essirise, before turning to indicate the Angels. “These are the people I wished the Chamber to hear from.” Then she addresses the Angels. “This is Jancarlyrix, the representative from the Chamber to the Conclave.” 

The tone of Essirise’s voice is enough, and all of the Angels make bows to the gigantic bronze dragon. He simply considers them for a few seconds and then says, more to himself than to them, “Humanoids in Vorel’arux! I did not think I would see this day.” Then he turns away. “Come, let us begin. I shall see you within.” With a couple of languid flaps of his wings he rises into the air, followed by most of the other dragons. Even those who had not approached turn and follow him.

A large silver dragon, smaller than Essirise, remains behind, and he quickly steps closer. “Greetings!” he says, eyes quickly searching the Angels. “I am Karaglen. I have studied the lore of Xoriat and am what, I believe, your people call an alienist. There is one among you, correct?”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “Me. I would like to speak with you after…”

“Essirise?” floats back Jancarlyrix’s voice, even though he is already in flight. Essirise promptly says to the Angels, “Later. Save any other talking for later. We can’t keep him waiting!” He too takes to the air and the Angels follow in various ways, with Karaglen bringing up the rear. 

Flying up and over the wall, the adventurers see that it is about forty feet thick, forming a huge ring which angles downwards from the upper rim to the lower and is made up of strangely undulating stone, with large hollows in places. The area within is dominated by three circular cylinders made of polished stone and wood, rising thirty feet from the floor of the amphitheater within, the flat top of each stretching nearly a hundred feet across. In the center of the three is a huge fountain from which water constantly sprays upwards but never falls, disappearing magically at its apex. The entire area, as well as the valley beyond the wall, glows with myriad powerful magical auras as far as Nameless’ _arcane sight_ can see.

Jancarlyrix and some of the other dragons have already seated themselves within the ring, settling their giant bodies comfortably into the hollows and along the undulations. “The stage of sound,” commands the giant bronze and Essirise quickly indicates one of the three cylinders to the Angels. As they land, their guide too takes a seat among the other dragons, close to Jancarlyrix. Once she is seated and they have landed on the stage, Jancralyrix says, “Begin. We will hear you now.”

Gareth does so, finding that some acoustical trick or magical enhancement makes his voice resonate strangely across the stage, presumably aiding the dragons in hearing him. Not wasting any time, he quickly describes the situation in Khorvaire and explains why the Angels are asking for aid. The dragons listen without any interruption, and though their attitudes are difficult to make out, it seems that they are interested in the situation, or at least giving it their full attention.

At Nameless’ telepathic urging, Gareth continues on to emphasize the daelkyr’s likelihood to annoy the dragons. He mentions that they would be grateful if the dragons could reveal a way to seal off Xoriat from Eberron, and then begins to explain what they have learned about the seals. There is a brief flutter of raised necks and changing expressions among the dragons at the mention of the seals, presumably due to their source, the Scaled Apostate Vvaraak, who chose to leave Argonnessen millennia ago to throw in her lot with the humanoids and against the wishes of the Conclave. But none of the dragons speak.

Until Gareth says, “And we believe that the seals can be activated by blood magic…”

Instantly, every draconic head around them snaps upwards. Nostrils flare and eyes widen, and for a second, the Angels have over two dozen dragons regarding them with expressions which now clearly include surprise, concern, anger, revulsion and a plethora of other emotions mixed into one. Then, simultaneously, every head turns to look at Jancarlyrix. 

The gargantuan bronze’s head has also risen to its full height, but his huge face is calmer, though the eyes gleam with an inscrutable light. “What did you say?”

_“Sh*t! We’re going to die!”_ Korm’s mental voice rings in the others’ heads. _“Do NOT do anything hasty!”_ replies Nameless immediately, _“But everyone be ready to grab me at my command. I’ll teleport us out if needed. Gareth, repeat it for them.”_

The paladin takes a deep breath and says, “Err, I said that we think the seals can be activated by blood magic…”

Again, he does not get to finish the sentence.

“And _how_,” says Jancarlyrix, “Did you come by this information?”

Gareth details everything that the Angels can remember about the discovery of this information. Jancarlyrix interrupts only once, querying, “You have discovered Khesavuthir?”

“Yes,” says Gareth simply.

“Interesting. Some among us,” says the bronze wyrm, “Thought that was impossible.”

At Nameless’ urging, Gareth says, “Yes. Many supposedly impossible things seem to happen around us.”

“So I have heard,” says Jancarlyrix, turning to gaze at Essirise, who looks back stolidly. Looking back to the Angels, he says, “You are dragonmarked, yes? Some dragons believe that marks you as important to the Prophecy. Some disagree.” His tone indicates nothing about his own thoughts on the subject.

“Yes, some of us are dragonmarked” says Gareth, again speaking for Nameless, “But strange events seemed to revolve around us even before that.” _So maybe you shouldn’t fry us – hopefully!_

“I see,” says Jancarlyrix. “Continue and tell us what you know of blood magic.”

Gareth complies, making it clear and emphasizing that the Angels know almost nothing about the subject, especially about how to use it. 

When he is done, Jancarlyrix studies Gareth and the others for a few moments, saying nothing. Finally, he says, “Why do I think you are not sharing everything?”

Gareth carefully replies, as politely as he can, “I do not know why, great dragon. We have told you everything that we know.”

“Very well,” says the wyrm. “So you don’t know how to use it at all?”

“No,” says Gareth, “We do not.” Then, again prompted by Nameless, he says, “And we have no desire or intention of learning more about it. All we are trying to do is stave off this attack from Xoriat and hopefully again separate that world from ours. In fact, we would much prefer it if your people handled this affair. We do _not_ want to learn anything about it if we don’t have to.”

“Good,” says the dragon. “Have you shared this information with anyone?”

“No,” says Gareth.

“So only you five are privy to this information about blood magic?” 

There is a faint edge to the dragon’s tones which makes Gareth suspicious, and he is not the only one. Luna, uncharacteristically silent and paying very careful attention, says urgently over the link, _“I’m not sure it’s safe to have them think eating us means nobody else learns about blood magic!”_ Korm quickly responds, _“What she said. Mention the Gatekeepers now!”_

With Nameless and Six in agreement, Gareth quickly replies, “Mostly. We did tell the Gatekeepers, those who created the seals with the knowledge given them by Vvaraak, what we discovered. So they know about it too. But I think we can speak for the Gatekeepers in saying they would be very pleased to not investigate it and have Argonnessen be the ones to use it against the daelkyr.”

“I see,” says Jancarlyrix slowly and thoughtfully, raising his gaze so that it seems he is addressing the other dragons, not the puny humanoids before him. “I shall speak to the Conclave about this. I do not know what will come of that, but I think we shall have to take a hand in matters.” Then he lowers his gaze to the Angels. “But this I do know. If we discover that any among you have tampered with blood magic or are actively seeking it out, our wrath will be terrible. The titans of Xen’drik,” he says, and his tone is clearly bitter now, “Sought to abuse it. Go there and see the result.”

_“We already have,”_ think a couple of the Angels, but nobody voices the thought. 

After waiting for a few seconds to see if any response is forthcoming, Jancarlyrix says, “Now tell us everything you can about Khesavuthir and how you found it.” As Gareth does so, Six comments, _“I don’t think we’re going to need – or be able – to go back to deal with the black dragon. I think he just ended up in much worse trouble than we could have brought him.”_ 

When Gareth finishes, Jancarlyrix asks a few more questions, and then finally says, “Is there anything more you want us to know?”

After some quick telepathic discussion, Gareth says, “No. That is all.”

“Very well, then. You are free to go.” Jancarlyrix looks around the other dragons, some of whom stir slightly at his statement. “You may go outside and speak to any of my brethren who wish to do so. But do not stay too long.”

“We will not,” says Gareth. Then, with some hesitation, he asks, “If you don’t mind, how or when will we know of your decision about Xoriat and these matters?”

“When we decide,” replies the wyrm. “And as we see fit.”

_“Stuck-up a**hole lizards!”_ is Luna’s immediate thought across the link, but she doesn’t voice it. Gareth too simply bows, as do the other Angels, and then departs the amphitheater with his companions.

Once they are outside, the Angels see multiple dragons take wing, heading in different directions, most of them in pairs. Essirise follows them outside after a couple of minutes, but by then Karaglen, the dragon alienist, has already joined them and is animatedly talking to Nameless. While the two alienists share some thoughts, the others speak to Essirise, who seems quite obviously pleased.

“That went better than I thought,” she says, “Especially when you brought up blood magic. As Jancarlyrix said, I don’t know what the result will be when the Conclave discusses this, but I think Argonnessen will be more closely involved with Khorvaire than it has in many millennia.”

“I hope that is a good thing,” says Korm. 

“So do I,” says Essirise. “But then I do…”

“Looks like Nameless just heard something,” interrupts Luna, pointing at the mage, who has stepped away from Karaglen. Nameless speaks a few words and then excuses himself from the dragon, before hurrying to the others. “We need to go.”

“Who’s in trouble?” asks Six.

“Sharn. Trillia just contacted me. Her _sending_ said – Sharn under attack by army of aberrations. Came up from bowels of undercity. I am in your house. Need aid immediately.”


----------



## carborundum

shilsen said:


> “... Trillia just contacted me. Her _sending_ said – Sharn under attack by army of aberrations. Came up from bowels of undercity. I am in your house. Need aid immediately.”





I don't know why, but the lolcats just sprang to mind.

"I'm in Ur House. Fyting Ur Aburashuns" 

Top update Shil! The story just gets deeper and deeper - awed compliments for keeping track of so many NPCs! I guess I shouldn't be surprised that your players steered the conversation round to going back to Khesuvathir - they don't take defeat kindly!

Is it frustrating for the players to be on a continent where they can be chopped into mincemeat at any moment by hundreds of big old dragons?


----------



## Furby076

carborundum said:


> Top update Shil! The story just gets deeper and deeper - awed compliments for keeping track of so many NPCs! I guess I shouldn't be surprised that your players steered the conversation round to going back to Khesuvathir - they don't take defeat kindly!




Gareth was pushing this - the rest of the group were fine with letting by-gones-be-by-gones.  I think with the NPCS (which the one guy who agreed is at LEAST level 20) we should be ok to bust open this pinnate.


carborundum said:


> Is it frustrating for the players to be on a continent where they can be chopped into mincemeat at any moment by hundreds of big old dragons?



You get used to it after you realize the paper boy in sharn can kill you.  You're actually thankful, because the big dragon is an obvious enemy - the paper-boy...we learned the hard way.

-Gareth


----------



## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> I don't know why, but the lolcats just sprang to mind.
> 
> "I'm in Ur House. Fyting Ur Aburashuns"




Hehe. 



carborundum said:


> Top update Shil! The story just gets deeper and deeper - awed compliments for keeping track of so many NPCs! I guess I shouldn't be surprised that your players steered the conversation round to going back to Khesuvathir - they don't take defeat kindly!




That's pretty much all down to Gareth. Nobody else has any interest in going back there actually. 

He's even suffering from this delusion that having persuaded one guy to go back with us, who said he'd see if anyone else was interested in going, means that there is now a vast horde of high level characters who will come with us. Or that somehow it's likely to make a difference if he does. 

As bad as he sounded in the story hour, it doesn't fully convey how nasty that dragon was. Basically only Gareth could hit him in melee. Even with Assay Resistance we still had a not insignificant chance of spells failing against him. He could only fail saves on a one.... etc. 

The worst thing was his breath weapon. Among other things it uses a horribly broken feat from the Draconomicon that let him up the save DC by his con bonus at the cost of it taking an additional round per point to recharge, which upped the DC to the point where Gareth couldn't make the save without rolling like a 18. Between that the breath weapon being maximized,  it clings (does 1/2 dam in subsequent rnds) and can be set to what ever elemental damage we DON'T have up (he had Analyze Dweomer up). Once is all you need.

Toss in that he gets to use Heal and no doubt a carefully selected smorgasbord spells from other classes.

No. The rest of us have no interest in fighting him again.



carborundum said:


> Is it frustrating for the players to be on a continent where they can be chopped into mincemeat at any moment by hundreds of big old dragons?




As AviLazar said, that is the normal state of affairs in Shil's campaign. Dragons or no dragons and if you ever forget it, he's got no hesitations about making it clear to you. Just go back and re-read the story hour for all the times we've gotten racked up by stuff. 

We don't dare go to the corner newstand for the morning paper without the entire group being fully buffed up. 

As a result we use the term "Noia" to describe the well justified belief that they are in fact all out to get us.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> He's even suffering from this delusion that having persuaded one guy to go back with us, who said he'd see if anyone else was interested in going, means that there is now a vast horde of high level characters who will come with us. Or that somehow it's likely to make a difference if he does.



No, Rackhir is suffering from a delusion that Gareth is suffering one. Gareth realizes that he has one person who wants to go (someone who is at least level 20 according to our glorious DM) and someone who has the influence to get us one or two other people who are also high level.  The dragon is tough, but getting someone who is specialized in killing dragons and is at least level 20 is a pretty good bet.  Also, we now know we can teleport out of there (we did not know that before and were scared to teleport out)



Rackhir said:


> As bad as he sounded in the story hour, it doesn't fully convey how nasty that dragon was. Basically only Gareth could hit him in melee. Even with Assay Resistance we still had a not insignificant chance of spells failing against him. He could only fail saves on a one.... etc.



Be honest - you could have penetrated his resistance if you didn't roll (CONSTANTLY) under what a 5? You had terrible rolls that day - scary actually. If we would have gotten his last armor spells off, his armor would have dropped by about 10 points - which would have let KORM/SIX be able to hit.  Though the original plan we had got foiled in round one (when Korm charged instead of hanging back).  We did have a nice plan...that we killed with instant stupidity.  Also, since we were not sure if we got his electricity buff off we couldn't use that spell you had ready to stun him.  We need analyze dweomor to view his buffs.



Rackhir said:


> The worst thing was his breath weapon. Among other things it uses a horribly broken feat from the Draconomicon that let him up the save DC by his con bonus at the cost of it taking an additional round per point to recharge, which upped the DC to the point where Gareth couldn't make the save without rolling like a 18. Between that the breath weapon being maximized,  it clings (does 1/2 dam in subsequent rnds) and can be set to what ever elemental damage we DON'T have up (he had Analyze Dweomer up). Once is all you need.



His breath weapon sucks, and i think (as you do) it is unfair for him to get to use Draconomicon feats while we cant use energy immunity.  Next time, we memorize and cast EACH resist energy type for each person. Then get energy resistance to everyone, but make it a different type.  So one of us will be immune, the rest will take 40 less damage, and this will give us time to get more energy resistance spells up.



Rackhir said:


> Toss in that he gets to use Heal and no doubt a carefully selected smorgasbord spells from other classes.
> 
> No. The rest of us have no interest in fighting him again.



One or two members said they would consider going if our powerbase was upped.  A person level 20+ willing to go is a significant powerbase.  Can him casting heal be countered?


----------



## Rackhir

AviLazar said:


> No, Rackhir is suffering from a delusion that Gareth is suffering one. Gareth realizes that he has one person who wants to go (someone who is at least level 20 according to our glorious DM) and someone who has the influence to get us one or two other people who are also high level.




You keep talking in the plural when describing the people who MIGHT coming with us.



AviLazar said:


> The dragon is tough, but getting someone who is specialized in killing dragons and is at least level 20 is a pretty good bet.  Also, we now know we can teleport out of there (we did not know that before and were scared to teleport out)




This is not a "typical" dragon in any way, shape or form. I remain highly dubious that unless he's got something really spectacular stashed away, one more fighter type is going to change the balance significantly.

It wasn't that we were afraid to teleport out, it was that we were afraid if we left, we couldn't come back. Since that is one of the legends we were told about the place, namely that if you left, you wouldn't be able to find your way back. The reluctance was to leave and loose any chance at getting access to what was supposed to be our best chance at finding a source for the information we needed and did in fact receive. Now that we have that information there is even less reason to head back, aside from simple greed or desire for revenge.



AviLazar said:


> Be honest - you could have penetrated his resistance if you didn't roll (CONSTANTLY) under what a 5? You had terrible rolls that day - scary actually. If we would have gotten his last armor spells off, his armor would have dropped by about 10 points - which would have let KORM/SIX be able to hit.  Though the original plan we had got foiled in round one (when Korm charged instead of hanging back).  We did have a nice plan...that we killed with instant stupidity.  Also, since we were not sure if we got his electricity buff off we couldn't use that spell you had ready to stun him.  We need analyze dweomor to view his buffs.




Yes, having Analyze Dweomor would have been useful and I was kicking myself for not having though of it.

The original plan was foiled by the fact that we had assumed that the Dragon would be most dangerous in Melee, so we should avoid it, that we could counter it's breath weapon and that we had assumed we'd be superior casters to the dragon. As it turned out, our casters were largely ineffective, nothing we could summon would have been able to touch it, the dragon is a more powerful caster than we are (it was the same level + Practiced Spellcaster) and Melee was what inflicted most of the damage we did.

What precisely leads you to believe my luck (or Korm's for that matter) is likely to be significantly better a second time around?



AviLazar said:


> His breath weapon sucks, and i think (as you do) it is unfair for him to get to use Draconomicon feats while we cant use energy immunity.  Next time, we memorize and cast EACH resist energy type for each person. Then get energy resistance to everyone, but make it a different type.  So one of us will be immune, the rest will take 40 less damage, and this will give us time to get more energy resistance spells up.




There are 5 types of energy to be protected against. That will suck up a lot of spells. In some respect Energy Immunity would actually make things worse, since it sucks up a significantly higher spell slot. Also Resist Energy only protects from 30 pts. 



AviLazar said:


> One or two members said they would consider going if our powerbase was upped.  A person level 20+ willing to go is a significant powerbase.  Can him casting heal be countered?




I'm quite confident that we haven't seen half of the dragon's tricks and if we go back planning to counter the last battle, we are going to get a whole different bag of whup-ass poured on us.

Six does have it right, without knowing a LOT more about the Dragon, we're just asking for another smackdown.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> You keep talking in the plural when describing the people who MIGHT coming with us.



Yes two people are plural. The guy said he has one other person he knows will want to come, but wants a cut of the rewards.  But he talked about this guy, we haven't met him yet.




Rackhir said:


> This is not a "typical" dragon in any way, shape or form. I remain highly dubious that unless he's got something really spectacular stashed away, one more fighter type is going to change the balance significantly.



None of shils characters are "typical" but that doesn't mean they are unbeatable.  As for this one extra fighter type: At LEAST level 20, and specialize in dragon slaying.



Rackhir said:


> It wasn't that we were afraid to teleport out, it was that we were afraid if we left, we couldn't come back. Since that is one of the legends we were told about the place, namely that if you left, you wouldn't be able to find your way back. The reluctance was to leave and loose any chance at getting access to what was supposed to be our best chance at finding a source for the information we needed and did in fact receive. Now that we have that information there is even less reason to head back, aside from simple greed or desire for revenge.




We were afraid to teleport because we had experiences in there that made teleporting random and woudl split the team apart.  We didn't know that teleporting OUT would be fine.  We have some information, not necessarily ALL of it.  So its a combination of revenge, wanting to reclaim my items, AND getting information.  Don't attribute negative emotions on to my through process.




Rackhir said:


> Yes, having Analyze Dweomor would have been useful and I was kicking myself for not having though of it.



Hindsight 20/20 - nobody to blame, we didn't know the dragon would have that up.



Rackhir said:


> The original plan was foiled by the fact that we had assumed that Melee would be useless and that we had assumed we'd be superior casters to the dragon. As it turned out, our casters were ineffective, nothing we could summon would have been able to touch it, the dragon is a more powerful caster than we are and Melee was what inflicted most of the damage we did.



Except for gareth, melee was worthless - and once the ennervations hit - well there it went. The problem was you rolling 5 or less (not your fault, just random chance) pretty much every single round. If we knew his electrical resistance was down we could have done the stun trick



Rackhir said:


> What precisely leads you to believe my luck (or Korm's for that matter) is likely to be significantly better a second time around?




Korms luck? Nah.  Korm should just sit there and heal people and cast resistances on them on the fly.  No attacking for him (i said that from the start).  You - well you normally don't roll THAT bad.   We will also have one more level then we did before (shil said even you and me will be +1 level when we return to playing).  Luna can remain the shield wall.  Gareth, and the one (maybe two or three) new fighters will be the hammers.  Once you get his defenses down - then you can do the stunning tricks.  No summons required unless they do things like heal (unicorns)





Rackhir said:


> There are 5 types of energy to be protected against. That will suck up a lot of spells. In some respect Energy Immunity would actually make things worse, since it sucks up a significantly higher spell slot. Also Resist Energy only protects from 30 pts.



30 points is great. Gareth can do a bunch of those castings since his spells in combat are worthless.  The only things gareth wil lcast that are of that level is: 1) the resistance spells, and death ward to help against ennervation.  We can always use scrolls or wands for the rest.




Rackhir said:


> I'm quite confident that we haven't seen half of the dragon's tricks and if we go back planning to counter the last battle, we are going to get a whole different bag of whup-ass poured on us.




Agreed, and I am quite confident hasn't seen half the stuff we can do - like what happens when we stun his punk butt.



Rackhir said:


> Six does have it right, without knowing a LOT more about the Dragon, we're just asking for another smackdown.




I have faith..then again I am a paladin   We have lots of knowledge, and we can get some more.  Even Six said, if we return there, we can start casting div spells to find out as much as we can.

-Avi


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> I don't know why, but the lolcats just sprang to mind.
> 
> "I'm in Ur House. Fyting Ur Aburashuns"








> Top update Shil! The story just gets deeper and deeper - awed compliments for keeping track of so many NPCs!




Thanks. And it's just as much due to the players as me. I put a lot of stuff out there and see what they bite at. As for the NPCs, I have a Word document just listing names of those who have showed up in the game, and that stretches a few pages. Doing the writeups does help me remember them a lot better.



> I guess I shouldn't be surprised that your players steered the conversation round to going back to Khesuvathir - they don't take defeat kindly!




As noted by Rackhir, that's pretty much all Gareth. The others really have no interest in returning there. The exchange above is pretty typical of the IC and OOC conversations about it we've been having every session. I sincerely doubt another visit to Khesavuthir is happening any time soon, if ever, but Gareth/Avi lives in hope 



> Is it frustrating for the players to be on a continent where they can be chopped into mincemeat at any moment by hundreds of big old dragons?




I asked them to answer the question since they can do so better than me, and I think they covered it.


----------



## Rackhir

AviLazar said:


> Yes two people are plural. The guy said he has one other person he knows will want to come, but wants a cut of the rewards.  But he talked about this guy, we haven't met him yet.




"But *perhaps* I can find one or two other skilled people willing to accompany us." 

That's PERHAPS, not definitely. Nor do we know how likely they are to be effective against THIS dragon vs some generic "young punk" dragon.



AviLazar said:


> None of shils characters are "typical" but that doesn't mean they are unbeatable.  As for this one extra fighter type: At LEAST level 20, and specialize in dragon slaying.




It's not a question of if it's possible to beat the dragon. This dragon was clearly quite specifically designed to screw us if we went in there assuming it was anything resembling a "normal" Wyrm black dragon. 

I've heard nothing from you in terms of plans that doesn't amount to basically "More of the same things only 'better'." Which doesn't give me any confidence things are likely to go better the third time around. 



AviLazar said:


> We were afraid to teleport because we had experiences in there that made teleporting random and woudl split the team apart.  We didn't know that teleporting OUT would be fine.




No. Nobody (aside from perhaps you) was worried about leaving. If we got scattered we'd still have been out of there. It was moving around in the place that we knew teleportation/dim door/etc... were unreliable.

Nameless didn't try to teleport out of there after the debacle, with the other party members, because I didn't know if Korm could get out on his own and he was stuck on the other side of the wall of force with Gareth. While we had no way for us to bring it down. Since you and I were the only people who had really argued for going back in there, I though we should be the ones who were going to suffer for it if anyone was.



AviLazar said:


> We have some information, not necessarily ALL of it.  So its a combination of revenge, wanting to reclaim my items, AND getting information.  Don't attribute negative emotions on to my through process.




It might well be lethal for us to know any more. The dragons didn't exactly seem happy for us to even know it existed.

When exactly ISN'T greed a major motivation for Gareth by the way?



AviLazar said:


> Hindsight 20/20 - nobody to blame, we didn't know the dragon would have that up.




Shil has mentioned a couple of time how useful that spell can be in this sort of situation. He doesn't do that casually in my experience.

Also, the main reason we didn't do stuff like open up with the stun spell was we didn't know if he had electricity protection up or if it had been brought down by one of the dispells. Having that spell up would have let us know.



AviLazar said:


> We will also have one more level then we did before (shil said even you and me will be +1 level when we return to playing).




Yeah, he also said I'd level up when he got back the last time I died and he went off to India for the summer and I didn't level up until like a month-two months after he got back. I'll count my levels once we've got them.



AviLazar said:


> Agreed, and I am quite confident hasn't seen half the stuff we can do - like what happens when we stun his punk butt.




Shil has. While he is good about separating knowledge for NPCs, that dragon was also quite clearly designed to screw us over and he's demonstrated multiple times that he's a better planner than we are.



AviLazar said:


> I have faith..then again I am a paladin   We have lots of knowledge, and we can get some more.  Even Six said, if we return there, we can start casting div spells to find out as much as we can.
> 
> -Avi




Yes and I'm a cynical, "Glass half empty" kind of guy.


----------



## Seekerofskill

carborundum said:


> Is it frustrating for the players to be on a continent where they can be chopped into mincemeat at any moment by hundreds of big old dragons?




It is more like a minefield. Things go off for a reason. It's possible to find the trigger, but that requires patience, attention, etc. Case in point. If we didn't tell others about the blood magic before we saw the council, the dragons would have killed us. Our fortuitous timing was luck. Now old Xaggy is on the council's and the secret police's to do list. I don't know what they are planning to do about the Black Well, but I do know what they would do to anyone who gets the secrets of blood magic from there.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> "But *perhaps* I can find one or two other skilled people willing to accompany us."



In game he said he had one other person




Rackhir said:


> It's not a question of if it's possible to beat the dragon. This dragon was clearly quite specifically designed to screw us if we went in there assuming it was anything resembling a "normal" Wyrm black dragon.




That is your viewpoint - and the same in other aspects.  Shil doesn't design his monsters with specific knowledge of our characters. He has said this multiple times over the years.  He has even stated, and shown us, that his characters have non-combat based spells and has at times had those spells memorized.


Rackhir said:


> I've heard nothing from you in terms of plans that doesn't amount to basically "More of the same things only 'better'." Which doesn't give me any confidence things are likely to go better the third time around.



I have a bunch of plans in mind, but until I know how many people come with us, and what they can do there is no point to making a more solid plan.





Rackhir said:


> No. Nobody (aside from perhaps you) was worried about leaving. If we got scattered we'd still have been out of there. It was moving around in the place that we knew teleportation/dim door/etc... were unreliable.



We were worried about getting scattered IN there. Getting scattered top-side would be ok, getting scattered INSIDE would be horrible.



Rackhir said:


> Nameless didn't try to teleport out of there after the debacle, with the other party members, because I didn't know if Korm could get out on his own and he was stuck on the other side of the wall of force with Gareth. While we had no way for us to bring it down. Since you and I were the only people who had really argued for going back in there, I though we should be the ones who were going to suffer for it if anyone was.



When the dragon turned his back you had a chance to escape and the only casualties would have been Gareth.  





Rackhir said:


> It might well be lethal for us to know any more. The dragons didn't exactly seem happy for us to even know it existed.



Maybe - but that doesn't seem like Shils style.



Rackhir said:


> When exactly ISN'T greed a major motivation for Gareth by the way?



When exactly ISN'T negativity a major motivation for Nameless by the way?





Rackhir said:


> Also, the main reason we didn't do stuff like open up with the stun spell was we didn't know if he had electricity protection up or if it had been brought down by one of the dispells. Having that spell up would have let us know.



Yes i know this - i am not blaming you for unlucky rolls.  I know why you didn't do the stuns - and I agreed.




Rackhir said:


> Yeah, he also said I'd level up when he got back the last time I died and he went off to India for the summer and I didn't level up until like a month-two months after he got back. I'll count my levels once we've got them.




I'll make sure to remind him.  SHIL REMINDER!





Rackhir said:


> Shil has. While he is good about separating knowledge for NPCs, that dragon was also quite clearly designed to screw us over and he's demonstrated multiple times that he's a better planner than we are.



No, we screwed us over.  Korm charged as the first possible action, comitting us to charging up.  We screwed us over. We decided to stand in a narrow corridor instead of going to the opening and spreading out. 




Rackhir said:


> Yes and I'm a cynical, "Glass half empty" kind of guy.




We agree on some things.


----------



## shilsen

Seekerofskill said:


> It is more like a minefield. Things go off for a reason. It's possible to find the trigger, but that requires patience, attention, etc.




Nice analogy. And it applies for the campaign as a whole, I think  



> Case in point. If we didn't tell others about the blood magic before we saw the council, the dragons would have killed us. Our fortuitous timing was luck.




That was a very interesting moment for me, since I was quite prepared for things to go very badly as soon as the blood magic got mentioned. As usual, I didn't know what would eventually happen, since I was playing it by ear in response to what the PCs said (and how they said it). But if you hadn't already told the Gatekeepers or didn't make that very clear to the dragons, the PCs would not have been leaving the meeting in one piece, and the campaign could have taken a very different direction. 



> Now old Xaggy is on the council's and the secret police's to do list. I don't know what they are planning to do about the Black Well, but I do know what they would do to anyone who gets the secrets of blood magic from there.




As I think you mentioned IC during the game, you guys screwed poor Xaggy a lot worse by spilling the beans about him to the Chamber than you could by going back there with a dozen 20th-level PCs. Much worse!



			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> Shil has. While he is good about separating knowledge for NPCs, that dragon was also quite clearly designed to screw us over and he's demonstrated multiple times that he's a better planner than we are.






			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> No, we screwed us over. Korm charged as the first possible action, comitting us to charging up. We screwed us over. We decided to stand in a narrow corridor instead of going to the opening and spreading out.




Little behind the scenes info, since it doesn't make much difference now - Xagygyrag *was* designed to screw you over, but as usual, there was an IC reason for it. He has access to unusually powerful divination magic in the Black Well (remember the PCs finding that the dragons of Khesavuthir had records of dragonmarks appearing all over Eberron, including Khorvaire and other places they haven't been?) and he has an ability to change his available spells for the day. 

So once Xagygyrag had the first fight with the PCs (which told him a little about their capabilities), he spent a significant part of the day learning as much as he could about the PCs. He didn't get as much info as he would normally have, but he did go into the next fight knowing that they included two druids and one wizard as their primary casters (and a few other things). So he prepared a spell loadout which was heavily protective and combat-based (he only had a few when you first met him) and also protected himself from fire and electricity since most druid damage spells use one of those elements.

Of course, now he knows your capabilities even better than he already did, so...


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:


> But if you hadn't already told the Gatekeepers or didn't make that very clear to the dragons, the PCs would not have been leaving the meeting in one piece, and the campaign could have taken a very different direction.




So what would you have done if the dragons wiped us all out? I'm guessing that even if some of us had managed to get away, the dragons would have hunted us down.


----------



## Seekerofskill

Rackhir said:


> So what would you have done if the dragons wiped us all out? I'm guessing that even if some of us had managed to get away, the dragons would have hunted us down.




Six has a back up plan. Argh!

Shilsen the Sadistic revels in the particularity of the GA's, to believe something to be true reguardless of the evidence. It's the basis of most of our bickering. 

As to what would happen if the dragons won, the same as when one dragon won, but more so.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:


> So what would you have done if the dragons wiped us all out? I'm guessing that even if some of us had managed to get away, the dragons would have hunted us down.




Beats me! You know I never plan ahead 

In all likelihood, the dragons wouldn't have gone right for the kill, but rather would have tried to capture you guys so that they could learn what you knew of blood magic and how you'd gained that information. They'd only kill if you seemed likely to escape and yes, would have pursued you in some form or another. So that would have opened up many options for the future. Now whether that would involve clones (of slain PCs) created by Mordain, incarceration in Argonnessen, the dragons interfering in Khorvaire in a way you hadn't wanted/anticipated, being locked up in some timeless draconic prison and escaping or being released well in the future due to some crisis (maybe Xoriat did win in Khorvaire?) ... or something else altogether, who knows?



			
				Seekerofskill said:
			
		

> Six has a back up plan. Argh!




Good to know. Care to share?



> Shilsen the Sadistic revels in the particularity of the GA's, to believe something to be true reguardless of the evidence. It's the basis of most of our bickering.




Who, me? Would I ever take pleasure in something like that?



> As to what would happen if the dragons won, the same as when one dragon won, but more so.




And some other options, as noted above.


----------



## ajanders

Shilsen, this campaign can no longer horrify me.
I caught up with the Order of the Stick and now have a vision of pregnant Luna.

If Xoriat knew what I knew, they'd start running now.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:


> Seekerofskill said:
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Six has a back up plan. Argh!
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Good to know. Care to share?
Click to expand...



I think that's supposed to be a "Pirate" "Argh!" as in his backup plan for the Warforged.


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:


> Shilsen, this campaign can no longer horrify me.
> I caught up with the Order of the Stick and now have a vision of pregnant Luna.








> If Xoriat knew what I knew, they'd start running now.




That's what Nameless keeps saying about her.



			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> I think that's supposed to be a "Pirate" "Argh!" as in his backup plan for the Warforged.




Aha! I always knew that as an "Arrr!", so I missed it.

In other news, I'm back in the USA. But since I'm currently juggling my own dissertation work, preparing for the classes I'm teaching starting Tuesday, moving into a new apartment, and a few other things, it'll be a couple of weeks at least before I update the Story Hour again.


----------



## Seekerofskill

shilsen said:


> Aha! I always knew that as an "Arrr!", so I missed it.




The "gh" is silent. They are French pirates.


----------



## Rackhir

So when did he get this armor?

http://www.mahq.net/mecha/codegeass/geass-r2/gareth.jpg


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> So when did he get this armor?
> 
> http://www.mahq.net/mecha/codegeass/geass-r2/gareth.jpg





That's what Gareth will wear when we kill the dragon.


----------



## carborundum

Just popping in to say Hi. How's it all going, Mr. Shilsen?


----------



## shilsen

Pretty good, though busy as hell with work stuff. Plus once you get out of the habit of doing regular updates, it takes a little time to get back into the groove. But I've been working on the latest one and am most of the way through it. Also, we started gaming after my return to the US and have had two sessions, so I've got about 3 sessions worth of stuff in hand.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:


> Also, we started gaming after my return to the US and have had two sessions, so I've got about 3 sessions worth of stuff in hand.




Basically we've been playing "Whack-A-Mole" with aberration armies. Hilarity Ensues.


----------



## Furby076

Yea unfortunately everyone who has access to sending has been contacting us with "ZOMG THE WORLD IS ENDING AND YOU ARE THE ONLY ANSWERS".  We've had to tell most of them "You have reached a number that is no longer in service, if you feel this number is in error please hang up and don't try again...deh deh deh deh deh deh deh"


----------



## carborundum

Sounds like fun! Can't wait to read about it.
I know what you mean about the writing, Shil, we took a few weeks off because of work and my update for the last session is still not quite finished!


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Sounds like fun! Can't wait to read about it.




And here, finally, it is...

* * * * * * * * * *
The Guardian Angels reappear in the Gray House in Sharn to find Trillia waiting for them, with Fett in attendance. While their major-domo retains a calm appearance, Nameless’ erstwhile mentor is disheveled and clearly worried. Trillia spins around from the window she was looking out of and hurries to Nameless. “Thank the Host that you’re back!”

“I wouldn’t be that happy yet. We’re about to unleash Luna in Sharn,” chuckles Korm. “What’s going on?”

Trillia quickly explains that a large army of aberrations came up from multiple areas of the undercity at once. She has no idea what the situation in the Cogs is, since nobody has been able to investigate down there yet. While the higher levels of the city are mostly clear of aberrations, there continues to be fighting in the middle levels and some of the lower levels have been overrun. The attackers are mostly dolgrims, numbering in the thousands, led by dolgaunts and mindflayers. There are other aberrations in smaller numbers, such as runehounds, and there are definitely a few beholders out there too.

“Beholders,” rasps Nameless, mild concern evident even in his harsh tones. “And we are in a city of towers.” As if to underline his words, there is a faint crashing sound from the north, audible above the shouts and commotion that have been audible since the Angels returned.

“Okay, let’s go blow some sh*t up!” says Luna. Gareth, having finished layering himself with protective spells, nods.

“Yes,” says Six, “But first we need to learn more about the situation. Who’s in charge of the defense?”

“I’m not sure,” says Trillia, “But the Redcloaks will be the primary defense, I think. And I’m quite positive that Central Plateau is where the primary defense will be located.”

“All right,” says Nameless. “We’ll head there first. I think you should stay here, Trillia.”

“Good,” smiles the other alienist wanly. “I intend to. Best of luck.”

“We’re not the ones you should be wishing,” Korm says with an anticipatory grin. “Come on, people – let’s do some damage.”

*…*

Hailym Radou wipes the sweat off his brow before unleashing the last of his prepared spells, taking down the two nearest dolgrims with a volley of _magic missile_s. “That’s it,” he calls to his allies, “I’m out of prepared spells. Down to wands and scrolls now.”

His compatriot Lethan frowns. “I’ve got just two left. I think we might be in trouble.” The sorcerer glances back at the building behind them around which shadows seem to wreathe, the appropriately named Guild of Starlight and Shadow. “Maybe we should retreat?”

Standing in front of them, Valeria of the Deathsgate Guild wipes a dolgaunt’s blood from her sword and growls, “You magelings better stand your ground. My companions and I didn’t come here to guard your Guild while you hide inside! Our bargain…”

“Look out!” shouts Hailym, indicating the new wave of aberrations, nearly a hundred of them, which appear at the end of the street and charge screaming at the thin line of defenders. The warriors and spellcasters of the two guilds ready themselves, murmuring prayers to the gods of the Sovereign Host (and not a few to the Dark Six), as they prepare for the onslaught.

As if in answer, a flaming bead streaks into the middle of the onrushing aberrations and explodes in a giant _fireball_, much more powerful than any of the assembled mages can cast. Nearly half of the attackers are blasted apart, and those that remain halt in their tracks, looking around stupidly for the source of the attack.

Lethan looks around too, and then upwards. “There!” Five strange shapes fly some six hundred feet overhead. An unusually muscular orc is in the lead, propelled by the leathery wings sprouting from his back. Behind him flies a huge bat, bigger than many of Sharn’s skycoaches, and carrying three individuals. Atop the bat sits what seems to be a warforged, but it is difficult to be sure, since the shape is wreathed in shadows. The figure contrasts with the one immediately behind it, an armored human glowing brightly as if lit from within with silvery light. In the rear sits a much thinner figure, also human, a gnarled staff in one hand and the other engaged in the movements of spellcasting.

“Looks like the Guardian Angels are back,” says Valeria, before looking back at the stunned aberrations. “And just in time! Come on, boys – let’s get ’em!”

*. . .*

Khandan Dol, more famously known as Khandan the Hammer, leader of the Redcloak battalion in Sharn, smacks the table in front of him with a mailed fist, putting a crack into it. “I don’t have a choice, damn it! If we keep pulling our forces back and forth, we’ll never hold any ground. We need to push in one direction and clear these bastards out, district by district! My Redcloaks are already busy in lower Central. The Guard will have to enter Northedge on its own.”

“On its own?” echoes Toras Cant disbelievingly. Unlike Khandan’s functional but battered armor, currently stained with the blood of his foes, the Royal Guard commander’s armor and livery are spotless. “You’ve always claimed that your Redcloaks are more effective than the entire Royal Guard! And now you want us to walk across a bridge into hundreds of monsters without your support?”

Standing among the others in the makeshift command camp, Archierophant Ythana Morr frowns at the pair of arguing men. “Whatever you’re going to do, you two need to agree quickly. Even from here we can see Northedge is in a shambles. You know there’s no Watch presence there, so most of the residents must have been slaughtered. Coldflame Keep is a defensible structure, but there aren’t enough people there to hold out long enough. We need to find a way to get help to Northedge as soon as we can.”

A voice behind her says, “I think we just found a way.”

Surprised, Ythana turns to look at first Balan Cord of the Blackened Book, and then at the area between Central Plateau and Tavick’s Landing that he is looking at. Or, more precisely, the rapidly nearing shapes flying through that area towards them. After a couple of seconds, she nods. “The Flame be praised – I think we did.”

*. . .*

Throkk and Grokk turn simultaneously and grin at each other, their eight eyes gleaming. Then the two dolgrims turn back and look over the makeshift barricade of broken furniture and pieces of rubble from the nearby buildings and towers. On the other side of the barrier, a wide stone bridge stretches away, covering nearly a quarter of a mile before it meets the towers which rise to the south. The thoroughfare is littered with bodies and overturned or demolished carts, many of them still smoldering. On the far side behind a similar – if somewhat better built – barricade, stand scores of worried looking humans and other humanoids.

The pair of dolgrims grin at each other again and then look around at their allies. Over a hundred more dolgrims stand ready behind the barrier, each wielding a pair of loaded crossbows in its four hands, ready to unleash a deadly volley on their foes if they attempt to cross the span. Among them stand a dozen dolgaunts, tentacles writhing softly, relying on the nearby dolgrims to relay what they see since their own blindsight does not extend far enough. A pack of runehounds pace back and forth, communicating among themselves in their clicks and squeaks, sometimes stopping to take a bite or two from the nearby corpses. The two mindflayers commanding this area stand silently, communicating telepathically amongst themselves as they wait.

Then, finally, there is movement at the other end of the bridge. The dolgrims raise their crossbows and chatter amongst themselves in gleeful anticipation. This will be a wonderful massacre! 

The crowd of humans parts in haste and some people rush through and onto the bridge. Behind them, the rest of their troops hurry forward. As the dolgrims take aim and their leaders call out commands, they squint at the enemy in surprise. In the lead and drawing steadily away from his allies is a large, apparently winged orc, bellowing a wordless war-cry as he flies through the air, a darkly gleaming sword held before him. 

Grokk and Throkk exchange glances. _He must be crazy!_ Then they simultaneously draw a bead on the orc, prepare to shoot, and pause in surprise. Rising into the air above the ranks behind the orc is a monstrosity rivaling any that the dolgrims have seen. _What is that?!_ A gigantic bulbous vegetative mass the size of a small house, it somehow flies through the air, giant tentacles whipping back and forth. Its huge mouth lined with giant teeth gnashes back and forth, some viscuous green fluid dripping from the flabby lips. Perhaps strangest of all is the sound that emanates from it, a tinny – seemingly human – voice, carrying across the gap between the humans and the aberrations. Throkk and Grokk cannot understand the language, but the anger is evident in the tone as the monster roars, “WAIT FOR ME, YOU BASTARDS!” 

Shouts from the dolgaunts and the mindflayers cause the dolgrims to focus again, but it’s already too late. As stubby fingers tighten on triggers, the last thing the dolgrims see is the giant flying monster gesturing and speaking the words of a spell. 

A fiery globe of light*, over a hundred and fifty feet across, erupts among them. Almost every dolgrim caught within the blast is instantly incinerated, with barely a handful surviving, screaming in agony as they claw at the eyes seared out of their heads by the radiance. While most of the runehounds and dolgaunts remain on their feet, the fact that their vision is not based on sight allowing them to weather the blast a little better, they are all badly burned. Both of the mindflayers also scream in agony as they are blinded.

On the bright side, they never see their deaths coming, as Korm’akhan charges into their midst.

*. . .*

Nearly half an hour later, the Angels descend gradually towards Lower Northedge, having cleaned up the most dangerous enemies in the middle and upper levels and having left the members of the Royal Guard and others who followed them to complete the mopping up. Gareth leads the way, his face set in grim lines, blood streaking the surface of the Endless Blade in his hands.

Looking back at the others, the paladin says, “Hurry up! We need to get down there as soon as possible!”

“We _are_ hurrying!” mumbles Luna, carefully maneuvering through areas not designed for her giant bulk. “What’s eating you?” 

Gareth opens his mouth to snap at her, but then controls himself and says more calmly, “There are beholders down there. We already saw one tower go down. I want them dead before they can cause any more deaths.” _More than they have already caused_, he adds inwardly, seeing in his mind’s eye the hundreds of hacked and half-eaten corpses they found strewn within Coldflame Keep. Especially the violated bodies of the few armed defenders. And the pile of limbs surmounted by a fleshless skull which had once been Cedric’s old friend, the priest Mazin Tana, who had greeted Gareth every time he visited the temple. _Damn! I’m going to have to tell Cedric about that._

“Yes, beholders,” rasps Nameless calmly. “Whose anti-magic cones nullify most of our abilities. That’s why we have to be careful. If we can spot them at a distance, then…”

As the alienist is speaking, Luna turns to look at a shadowed alcove near them, lifting a threatening tentacle, and then pauses, as part of the darkness detaches itself to reveal Six’s form, still wreathed in gloom by his harness. “I found the beholders,” he says, pointing down and at an angle. “Two of them. Luckily, they had no aberrations with them, though there are many of them moving through lower Sharn in groups. There’s some cover, but getting near them unnoticed will be difficult,” Six looks pointedly at Gareth and Luna, “For some of us.”

“And their anti-magic has a range of a hundred and fifty feet or more,” points out Nameless. “We can’t cover that sort of ground fast enough to avoid them seeing us and catching us in the cones.” He turns and looks curiously at Korm, who is chuckling. “What?”

“Unless we’re falling,” grins the Gatekeeper from ear to ear. “And since we’re some distance above them…” 

*. . .*

Less than five minutes later, Korm looks up with a similar grin from the burned and bloodied corpse of a beholder at Luna’s grumbling shape. “What are you complaining about?”

The giant tendriculos tilts backwards and forwards and then slowly rolls away from the spot it was in and Luna points at a jagged chunk of broken masonry in the area, now smeared with greenish fluid. “I landed on that! OW!”

“You’re complaining?” scoffs Korm, pointing at a roughly circular shape lying next to the stone Luna was complaining about. It looks like nothing so much as a beholder which has been flattened by a huge weight and has exploded in the process. Which is precisely what it is. Korm laughs, “Think how _it_ felt!” 

“Look out!” interrupts Six, “Mindflayers!” As the warforged darts forward and to the side, seeking cover, the other Angels look up to see a small band of aberrations heading quickly for them. The mindflayers which Six mentioned are in the rear, two of them, one with the amputated and dragonshard-studded tentacles which indicate a spellcaster, while the other is a taller and sturdier specimen who seems to be in command. Ahead of them run a screen of four runehounds, and on either side is a huge spider, its orange-brown carapace studded with sharp spines. The spiders move with ease over the ground, their ten-foot long legs either lifting them over obstructing rubble or clambering partly up the walls of the towers as they advance.

“Harpoon spiders,” warns Nameless, preparing a spell, “They can shoot spines which dig into your flesh and reel you in.”

“I’d like them to try,” chuckles Luna as she rolls forward, her huge size dwarfing the two aberrant arachnids. “Come on, little spiders!”

But as the Angels and their enemies near each other, another foe appears, deadlier than the rest. A beholder, larger than most, floats around a tower some hundred and fifty feet away, moving swiftly towards the Angels. Its central eye is open and its anti-magic gaze washes over them, stripping away their magical protections and abilities. Gareth’s glowing magical aura winks out and Luna shrinks down from a giant plant to a slim shifter, while Nameless’ habitual disguise fades away, leaving a thin young human with a tentacle where an arm should be, and the leathery wings protruding from Korm’s back fade away. Only Six, hidden behind a wall, remains unaffected.

The aberrations promptly seize the opportunity, the runehounds racing forward and unleashing streams of acid. Though they do so blindly, their supernatural blindsight disrupted by the beholder’s gaze, there are enough of them to bracket the area that the Angels are in. Acid splashes painfully against some of the Angels, especially harmful now that their protections against acid are suppressed. Only Nameless retains his now intrinsic resistance to the substance and even he is seriously hurt.

The spiders too move in on either side, myriad eyes glaring madly at their prey, vision unimpaired by the anti-magic field. One emits a hash spitting sound and an object resembling a bifurcated fang shoots out from an orifice below its fangs. Before Luna can dodge aside, it sinks painfully into her thigh, blood spurting from the wound. She cries out and grabs at the object, and then notices a thick, translucent thread of what looks like saliva extending from the fang back to the spider. There is a sucking sound and Luna screams in pain as the strand retracts, feeling the muscles of her leg tear as the embedded fang jerks her off her feet and to the ground. Despite her efforts, the elastic but apparently strong saliva pulls her along the ground towards the waiting spider.

The other spider attacks Gareth, but his armor protects him even though it is no longer magical. The paladin kicks away the fang and glares at his right gauntlet, which had held the Endless Blade moments ago and is now an empty and inflexible metal hand. “Someone do something about the beholder!” he shouts.

“Just a second,” says Nameless, retreating hastily behind a stone pillar and casting a spell as soon as he is protected from the beholder’s gaze. A second later, Kha’tvan’ga appears before him. “Destroy the beholder and then the other aberrations.” The Horror floats around the pillar and advances towards the enemy, tentacles flailing at the air ahead of it. One of the mindflayers shouts a command and the beholder promptly tilts to include the Horror within its cone, instantly causing it to disappear. 

“What the hell?” shouts Gareth, backing away as the blind but tenacious runehounds gang up on him, “That did nothing, Nameless!”

Ignoring the paladin’s complaints, Nameless remains where he is and shouts, “Six – go left! Korm – go right!”

As the warforged and the Gatekeeper both head in different directions, Gareth belatedly realizes what Nameless had already calculated – that the beholder would be unable to maintain the anti-magic cone on the area where the Horror was and also catch Korm and Six in its gaze.

Six runs around the wall he was sheltering behind and heads for the leading mindflayer. His target responds with a blast of mental energy, but the warforged shrugs it off with an effort and leaps forward. His spiked chain wraps around the illithid’s leg and a deft tug brings it to the ground. As it groans at the impact and attempts to collect itself, Six strikes again, ripping open the side of its tentacled face.

The other illithid turns to help its leader, pale gray hands moving in the motions of spellcasting, and then is interrupted by the roar of a charging Korm. Swiftly forgetting its ally, the mindflayer redirects its spell, sending a fiery orb into the onrushing orc’s chest. Korm ignores the impact and slashes at it, only a desperate leap saving his foe, though his meteoric blade carves a deep gash across its chest. The illithid gasps a word and an arc of electricity leaps to strike Korm, but it fizzles against his protective spells. The Gatekeeper rushes in, his slashing sword keeping the mindflayer constantly on the defensive.

But behind the retreating illithid Korm sees the beholder rising in the air and swiveling, attempting to angle itself so that he too will fall within its anti-magic cone. The Gatekeeper casts a quick look around but the others are in no position to help, with Luna and Gareth in especial danger. And the presence of the mindflayer spellcaster in front of him makes his options very limited. 

In desperation, Korm momentarily looks away from his immediate foe and fixes the beholder with a baleful stare, calling on the power of the evil eye. For a second, the beholder’s giant orb meets the Gatekeeper’s stare and then – to Korm’s amazement, followed swiftly by relief and then amusement – slowly shuts. As the central eye closes, the beholder tilts gradually, its eyestalks drooping, until it hangs motionless in mid-air. A strange rumbling emanates from it, which can only be snoring**. “Yes!” shouts an exultant Korm, before leaping at the shocked illithid before him.

As the beholder’s central eye closes, Luna’s form shifts and expands back into the tendriculos that she had been only moments ago. The spider which had loomed over her moments ago looks up in surprise, and then there is a squishing sound as her bulk just rolls over it. The other spider lasts only a few seconds longer, as Kha’tvan’ga reappears and unleashes a whirlwind of tentacles against it. With Nameless and Gareth also now able to safely rejoin in the battle, it is over momentarily, only a single runehound surviving to flee the scene.

“Well, that ended a lot better than it seemed it was going…,” begins the alienist, before being interrupted by a call of “Nameless, Luna – blast it!” from Korm, whose strange wings have carried him up above the still slumbering beholder. The unfortunate creature wakes screaming, as spells from Nameless and Luna strike it, just in time to see one last sight – the Gatekeeper descending on it, sword-first. 

With the enemies disposed of, while the others heal their wounds Six does a swift circuit of the area. He returns to say, “They are retreating, or at least pulling back from this area. It’s hard to say from this distance, but I think they’re leaving the Central Plateau area too. The Redcloaks and other forces seem to be taking over the ground there. Can’t say about Dura, Menthis or Tavick’s.”

“Should we head back to Central then?” asks Gareth.

Nameless, who has been looking around with a faraway expression in his eyes, smiles thinly. “Yes, the rest of you should,” he rasps, “But I think I have a way to speed up their retreat.” He begins to cast a summoning spell, and as he completes it, three creatures appear before him. They look like a mix of humanoids and giant vultures, with long, sinewy limbs covered in small gray feathers, a long neck topped with a cruel beaked head, and large wings. They consider the alienist balefully, but Nameless gazes back calmly, till they bow grudgingly.

Gareth scowls as he recognizes the creatures. “Vrocks?” The disapproval is clear in his tone.

The alienist ignores him for a few seconds, addressing the creatures in their own language. The vrocks bow again, this time with apparently much more pleasure, and then take to the air together, racing away at great speed in the direction their summoner indicates. Nameless stares after them, ignoring the fuming paladin, and then after a second he smiles again, this time more grimly.

Turning back to Gareth, the alienist says, “Is there a problem?”

“Yes!” frowns Gareth. “They’re demons!”

“I’m quite aware of their nature,” says the alienist calmly. “What’s your point?”

“They’re evil! And summoning them is evil. You have much better ways of dealing with the aberrations. Give me one good reason why you’re summoning demons!”

“Certainly,” says Nameless dryly, glancing in the direction that the demons disappeared in, a direction from which faint screeching sounds carry back to the group. “Dance. Of. Ruin.” As he finishes the words, there is the faint sound of an explosion. “See?” 



* Luna was bored and had a _sunburst_ prepared. ’Nuff said.

** Yes, Korm put a beholder to sleep with a gaze attack, one which never works for him (at least not against any foe of significance). We assume that it only worked since I was NPCing him and Mike wasn’t actually running Korm.


----------



## carborundum

YESSSSSSSS!!!!!!

That's just brilliant - nothing beats squashing beholders with ... yer huge vegetable butt


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## Vorput

What spell summons 3 Vrocks?


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## Rackhir

Vorput said:


> What spell summons 3 Vrocks?




Nameless gets 2 summoned creatures from a SM spell off of the same level list and 1d4+1 off of a lower level list. He actually had to use 2 SM VIII to get the three Vrocks, but Shil decided to gloss over that part.


----------



## shilsen

I've updated Six's, Korm's and Luna's characters in the Rogue's Gallery thread here, in case anyone is curious about them. Nameless updated his PC too.


----------



## shilsen

I've started a thread here on the General RPG Discussion board regarding a little dragon hunt that the PCs are involved in.

Feel free to drop in and make suggestions.

Naturally, the above invitation does not extend to players.


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:


> I've started a thread here on the General RPG Discussion board regarding a little dragon hunt that the PCs are involved in.
> 
> Feel free to drop in and make suggestions.
> 
> Naturally, the above invitation does not extend to players.




Curses! Foiled again!


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## Solarious

shilsen said:


> Feel free to drop in and make suggestions.
> 
> Naturally, the above invitation does not extend to players.





PS. Check your PM box.


			
				Rackhir said:
			
		

> Curses! Foiled again!



Not to worry. You're in good hands.


----------



## shilsen

Only a few minutes later, the Angels are standing in Central Plateau near the bridge which connects it to Northedge, at a makeshift command post. Accompanying them are Ythana Morr, Balan Cord, members of the Redcloaks and the Royal Guard, and others who were involved with the effort of clearing out the attacking aberrations from this area. With the task having been made significantly easier by the Angels, their attention has now turned to the sad task of dealing with the dead, whose bodies still litter the bridge and many parts of Northedge. 

Ythana looks sadly at the piles of corpses, some of which are being collected into heaps – or at least being moved out of the way – nearby. “So many dead!” She glances at the Angels, sighs, and says, “And if not for your return, many more would have been lost in retaking this area and driving back the atta…”

“Anyone else hear that?” interrupts Luna from where she sits a short distance away, towering over everyone else in her tendriculos form.

“Yes,” says Six, “Chanting. And it seems to be coming from…,” he looks around, “Everywhere.”

“And in many voices,” says Gareth, “Though I don’t understand the language.” He clicks the fingers of his metal hand and the Endless Blade pops into existence. “What’s up, boss?” it asks, contriving to sound both curious and bored at once. “More bad guys?”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “There!”

The others look where the alienist points and see the specific source of the chanting, though the voices continue to apparently resonate from all quarters around them. The voices are sibilant and – though it’s hard to say precisely how a voice could be – slimy, with a nauseating quality to them which makes the hearers feel faintly, and strangely, soiled. Then again, the source probably explains the effect.

Rising into the air approximately two hundred feet from the towers on the furthest edge of Central Plateau are a trio of identical creatures, which look like a strange mixture of worm, insect and octopus. Each holds aloft a large black orb in the three short tentacles which rises from around its mouth. The lipless mouths writhe and their insectoid limbs wave back and forth through complicated motions as they float higher and higher through the air.

Korm stares at the creatures and then wipes his eyes as an errant breeze blows dust into them. “I don’t know what that is. Maybe a wolf?” He chuckles and shrugs.

Nameless actually breaks off his focus on the creatures to stare at the Gatekeeper. Then he snaps, “Don’t be absurd. Those are clearly…,” he pauses and a mildly horrified expression crosses his face, “…and I can’t think of the name now! You just made me forget!”

“Name or not, we fought one of those in Yarkuun Draal. And we need to stop them,” says Six pointedly.

“Yes,” says Gareth. “What are they doing? And what are those orbs?”

“I can’t say for sure at this distance,” says Nameless, “Especially since they’re beyond the range of my _arcane sight_, but there’s necromantic energy flowing away from them.” He looks around and points. “To the corpses, and also from the corpses back towards them.”

“Look!” says Luna, and the alienist turns to see that there is a distinct shimmering in the air between the creatures, which he now remembers to be avolakia. The shimmering is in the form of an equilateral triangle, with an avolakia at each point, and there’s no doubt in Nameless’ mind what it is. Especially as he sees what he thinks is movement beyond it. 

“It’s a portal!” he snaps. “I’ll blast them to disrupt it. Korm, Six and Gareth, you need to fly there. And Luna…”

“I got it!” says the druid, rolling forward. And before anyone can say a word, she disappears.

And reappears an instant later, to the shock and surprise of not only all the spectators, but especially one of the avolakia. The one who sees her giant shape appear a foot above its misshapen head. And then plummet.

Luna’s size and weight smash the avolakia out of the air and the two of them drop towards the ground far below. The creature still retains its grip on its orb and the other Angels see the shimmering triangular portal warp deform as one edge is pulled downwards. The portal bends and twists for a long instant, elongating further and further, and the orbs flare with dark radiance as it does so. And then they explode simultaneously.

The explosion annihilates each of the avolakia instantly, reducing the creatures to such tiny fragments that not a sign of them remains. Luna grunts at the pain as the orb below her explodes, even her hugely thick and magical hide being scoured deeply and painfully by the blast, causing thick green ichor to drip from the wounds.

Hundreds of feet above her, the portal darkens and solidifies as the orbs burst, momentarily revealing a giant gray bulk and a huge eye (which reminds Nameless of Cyaëgha, though it is clearly not the same), before neatly folding in on itself and disappearing. As it shrinks down, Nameless’ enhanced vision lets him see a wave of invisible energy flow out of it. The alienist recognizes it as negative energy, and as the torrent flows over him and those around him, they all feel an intense but swiftly fading coldness. There is, meanwhile, a loud popping sound from the point that the portal has receded to, and then a shadowy mass expands outwards from it.

In less than a second, there is a giant cloud of darkness over a hundred feet in radius, which swiftly rolls towards the watchers. The four watching Angels, all of whom now possess darkvision, can see through the cloud’s shadows, and at its center they see what seems to be a ball of solid darkness over a dozen feet across, with ropy tentacles extending nearly the same distance from it.

“What in the Flame is that?” asks Gareth.

“A vasuthant,” rasps Nameless, “An undead creature of darkness native to Mabar, the Plane of Shadow. I wonder why that came through the portal. I wouldn’t expect creatures of Xoriat to summon such a thing. I believe the explosion disrupted** the…”

“No time for discussion,” snaps Korm, “We need to kill it.” He quickly cast a spell and a _phantom stag_ appears beside him, ready to carry him to their foe.

But as the Gatekeeper acts, the vasuthant rolls forward through the air, waving its tentacles before it. Again, only Nameless can see the waves of necromantic energy emanate from it, but their effect is obvious to all present. Every corpse within five hundred feet begin to rock back and forth. Then they begin to slide over the ground, gradually flowing together into two separate piles. 

“Flame protect us!” says Ythana Morr, hurriedly lifting her holy symbol in a warding gesture and then unleashing a blast of positive energy from it. The animated corpses barely react, only one of them twitching faintly and then slowly falling apart and lying still. The others continue to flow together, an unseen pressure inexorably crushing the dead flesh and bones together until they form two huge, hill-like mounds. The ghastly agglomerations twitch and then slowly move forward, each extending two twisted collections of mangled bodies and limbs. The arm-like protrusions make the giant mounds seem like strange torsos, lacking heads and legs.***

“Change of plan,” says Korm quickly. “We’ll take those … things. Nameless, get the shadow thingy!” He leaps onto the stag and swings Gareth off the ground and up behind him, before calling to his steed to charge. 

“On it,” says Nameless, who had already begun casting, and as the vasuthant floats forward the air around it moves. The movement resolves itself into two huge air elementals. Reacting instinctively to Nameless’ command, they begin to hammer into the extraplanar undead with their giant fists.

Meanwhile, as Korm and Gareth charge forward, others besides the Angels join the fight. Ythana Morr casts a spell to embolden her allies, while Balan Cord uses a similar but different enchantment, shouting for the warriors present to attack. Dozens of bows and crossbows twang, while many rush forward into melee, led by some members of the Royal Guard and the few Redcloaks present.

The arrows and bolts break harmlessly or strike the two undead colossi with no discernible effect. Barely a second behind them, Korm’s _phantom stag_ covers the ground between it and the closest monster in an instant. But despite its speed, the lurching monstrosity is incredibly fast. As Korm and Gareth raise their weapons, one huge ‘arm’ swings around ponderously and smashes the _stag_ off its feet. 

Gareth hits the ground rolling, his plate mail clashing around him, but the unarmored Gatekeeper lands on his feet and rushes in under the giant appendage, hacking and slashing. His meteoric blade carves large rents in the corpses that form the creature, but that seems to have little effect. Nearby, the Royal Guard and Redcloaks have even less success. As they move in and attack, the second mound of corpses simply rolls forward over them, crushing some to death and leaving others battered and broken. One of the large appendages descends, picking up a handful of the dead or dying, and stuffs them into its body. The conjoined corpses part somehow and the new additions are drawn within.

Korm stares at the sight and then turns around at a groan from Gareth, to get an even closer view of this assimilation. As the paladin rises clumsily to his feet, another arm descends and smashes him back to the ground. Then it closes around the struggling Gareth and lifts him to its chest. Before Korm’s simultaneously horrified and fascinated gaze, the corpses there flow apart for a moment, leaving a large cavity. The appendage stuffs Gareth’s body in and the corpses flow back, covering him from sight. The last glimpse of the paladin Korm gets is of multiple dead arms animating to hold him in place. And then the closing orifice blocks off all sight of Gareth and the silvery glow around him.

“Sh*t! People – we need help here!” shouts Korm, redoubling his efforts and hacking madly at the creature. “Luna? Six? Where are you?”

“Here!” calls a voice as Luna appears, _dimension door_ing right behind the undead monstrosity. The tendriculos rolls at the heap of corpses, which turns its attention to this assailant who almost matches its bulk. The two colossi, one the epitome of nature run amuck and the other the absolute negation of the natural order, smash into each other with tremendous force, hammering and tearing at each other’s forms. 

Luna quickly realizes that the gigantic undead is even stronger and more resilient than her, but luckily she has multiple allies in the fight. With her providing a distraction, Korm is free to attack it with impunity. And there are others still in the fray. Luna frowns in surprise as splits appear in the creature’s amorphous front, silvery light shining through them. Just as she is expecting a strange form of energy attack, something breaks through one of the cracks. It is a human arm, a short and saw-edged blade at the end of it. “Die, motherf*cker, die!” yells the blade and Luna chuckles despite the wounds she has taken. “It’s Gareth!”

As the paladin literally carves his way out of the creature, the cracks he has been creating spread across its form, linking up with the huge chunks slashed away by Korm. The undead begins to shudder and then, as Luna brings down both huge tentacles at once, lurches sideways and slowly, silently, falls apart. 

“Yes!” exults Luna, only to be interrupted by a shout of “Behind you!” from Nameless. She sees the alienist, who has been helping his summoned creatures dispose of the vasuthant, gesture and a pea-sized flaming bead shoots past, to explode into a powerful _fireball_ behind her. Luna turns ponderously, moving as quick as her tendriculos form can, to see the second undead colossus roll forward. 

Though it bears multiple wounds from the attacks of the other defenders of Sharn and scorch-marks from Nameless’ spell, it shows no signs of stopping. Luna immediately unleashes a _flame strike_ on it, and Korm follows suit from behind her. The undead’s body begins to split apart under the assault but it continues inexorably, both appendages striking out at Luna. With no space or ability to dodge, the tendriculos takes both blows in the middle of its face. Already wounded from the explosion of the orb and her battle with the first undead monster, Luna is in no shape to take the punishment, and she collapses. 

“Damn!” says Korm, hefting his sword in readiness for the attack, “You ready for some more, Gareth?” The paladin, having just stepped out of the wreckage of the creature that swallowed him, wearily nods his head. Then he lifts the Endless Blade, looks around, and asks, “Where’s Six?” 

The undead creature looming over Korm and him pauses, as if waiting for an answer. Its two upraised arms waver slightly and then it literally falls forward over Gareth and Korm. The two strike furiously at the rain of corpses for a couple of seconds, before they realize that it is not an attack. The creature is falling apart, and the reason is quickly obvious, as a metal form wreathed in shadow steps over the ridge of the hill-like and now collapsing form. 

Six twirls the chain he had specially enchanted for slaying undead, its spikes adorned in ribbons of flesh from the creature he has been pounding away at, unseen by his companions. “I like it when you folks provide a distraction,” he says. 

“Me too,” agrees Nameless, walking forward unscathed, the combination of his small horde of summoned elementals and spells having disposed of the vasuthant before it could get to him.

Luna, having been _heal_ed to consciousness by Korm, shakes her head. “Yeah, yeah – you’re both welcome.” Then she pokes the mound of now inanimate corpses and scowls as only a tendriculos can. “I’m getting sick of aberrations and the sh*t they do. I could really go a while without seeing another…”

* * * * * * * * * *
“…aberration army?” frowns Luna the next day. “Why do we always have to be the ones doing this? And why exactly are we here, anyway? Come to think of it, where exactly _is_ here? Does anyone know?”

Nameless waits patiently until the questions end and then says dryly, waving his tentacle eloquently at the rocky tunnel that they are in, “We’re doing it because we’re better equipped for that than anyone else. We’re here because Khandan Dol asked us to investigate the aberrations which pulled back into the tunnels after the attacks and see if there’s another assault on the way. The forces of Sharn are too busy repairing the damage done to the Cogs and setting up defensive positions there to investigate. And we are, if I estimate correctly, currently about a mile below Sharn and at least a couple of miles southwest of it. And that’s about it.”

“Wait, which one was Khandan?”

“Khandan Dol, the dwarf in charge of the Redcloaks,” answers Nameless. “The one who shushed Meira when you were arguing with her.”

What might be a grin splits the tendriculos’ huge mouth. “Oh, yeah – that was awesome! I think I like him.”

“Don’t say that,” says Korm, raising his hands in mock-horror. “We know what … happens when you … um, like people.”

As Luna snorts at him, Gareth says, “Will you guys keep it down? Taking out the runehounds was quick, but we made a lot of noise with that delver.” The sword in his hand shudders of its own volition and the Blade’s voice mutters, “I f*cking hate delvers!”

“We’re not the only people making noise,” says Six quietly from his position ahead of the others. “Listen.”

The other Angels fall silent, expecting the sound of approaching enemies, but they hear no alarms from up ahead. In fact, things seem quiet for the moment, except for the faintest whisper of sound, carried through the rock as much as (or rather than) through the air. And then the Angels realize that there is a constant underlying whisper. With their exceptional senses and previous experience, it doesn’t take much time or discussion to be certain that they are hearing the sounds of dozens, maybe hundreds of creatures, some distance ahead of them. 

The group proceeds towards the sound, with Six in the lead and a softly grumbling tendriculos bringing up the rear. Even though the tunnel is over a dozen feet high and wide, it is slightly tight for Luna. The tunnel is not completely straight but continues in the same general direction for over two hundred feet before turning and then runs for the same distance again before another turn. As the Angels advance, the faint sounds increase, and it is fairly clear that there must be a large open space not too far ahead. A large open space occupied by a lot of creatures. 

Despite the growing sound, as Luna nears the second turning, she – and ahead of her, Six and Korm – picks up the faint whisper of movement just ahead. Something is moving beyond the turn in the tunnel.

Six signals to the others to wait and then proceeds around the turn, moving stealthily, relaying what he sees over the _telepathic bond_ that Nameless has set up. The tunnel stretches a little over a hundred feet before him, before turning again to the left. The sound is stronger here and there is a faintly flickering glow from around the turn.

Not that Six has time to pay attention to that, as his attention is drawn to the ceiling of the tunnel above him. A large section of it is moving, and after a second, he realizes that the movement comes from over two dozen small creatures, clinging to the ceiling and stealthily working their way forwards. They look like chokers, but they are smaller and thinner. And the most obvious difference is that they only have patches of skin where their eyes are supposed to be, and round open mouths topped with a sucker. 

The lack of eyes clearly doesn’t hurt their perceptiveness. Presumably possessing some form of blindsight, their heads turn in unison towards him and then they leap to attack. 

Warned by the warforged’s mental cry of alarm, Nameless steps around the corner, casting a _cloudkill_ which envelops Six and his assailants. Not that it seems to give the attackers any pause, as they pour off the ceiling onto Six. The warforged’s chain snaps out as they come, cracking one’s skull and dropping it to the floor, but the others surround Six, some even climbing onto him, tentacles hammering at his armored form. They make no sound as they do so, their mouths gaping silently.

“_It’s a swarm_,” transmits Six, _“Blast it.”_ Then the shadows swirl around him and he disappears. Chokers which had just been striking at him or perched on his head fall to the ground, looking around in bewilderment. Nameless chuckles, his _greater anticipate teleportation_ telling him not only that Six used his harness’ powers to teleport back around the corner, but that the warforged won’t be reappearing for a short while.

Even as Six disappears, Gareth moves to stand between Nameless and the swarm, twirling the Endless Blade in an artful and intimidating manner. “The first one of these to come by here gets hit,” he says.

“Pfft! Not necessary,” comments Korm, stepping up to the alienist’s other side. He casts – accompanied by an indignant “HEY!” from Luna, who is unable to get past the group without crushing them – and a _flame strike_ descends on the chokers. Already wounded by Nameless’ spell and befuddled by Six’s sudden disappearance, the creatures have no defense, and when the explosion clears, all that is left are bodies.

And the increased sound of movement from around the turn in the tunnel ahead, as well as a number of raised voices. The Angels can decipher faint cries of alarm and a few words in daelkyr, such as “intruders” or “attack.” More voices are raised in the distance, scores of them, if not hundreds. And there are also other sounds that must be growls or snarls.

“So much for stealth! I don’t know why we bother trying! They always know we’re coming anyway,” Korm says, ignoring the fact that he was the one that created the explosion. He moves forward, readying his sword. “Come on. Let’s not give them time to prepare.”

Nameless’ tentacle taps him on the shoulder. “Why rush when we have a nice handy cloud of poison gas in front of us, headed in their direction? Does anyone have a nice fan to move it along a bit?”

“Fine,” grumbles Luna, still not that pleased about having had no role in the short fight. She casts and four small air elementals appear before her. The druid pronounces some orders in their breathy language and they transform into whirlwinds, rising and following the _cloudkill_, just entering its edge, safe from its poison in their lack of an anatomy. They angle their bodies, creating a combined breeze which increases the speed of the magical and poisonous fog, propelling it faster along the tunnel.

As they are doing so, Six finally appears, to be quickly apprised of the situation. Meanwhile, the noise ahead continues to increase. The closest noises and voices around the corner are only a couple hundred feet away and getting closer. The further noises begin a few hundred feet beyond that point and extend indefinitely into the distance, perhaps hundreds and more likely thousands of feet. Similarly, it’s unclear if there are hundreds or thousands of creatures around the bend.

But one thing is certain. The Angels have found their army of aberrations.



* Mike rolled a 1 on Knowledge (arcane) and got a 9, so we joked that Korm not only misidentified them horribly, but gave Nameless negatives to his own check.

** Nameless was right. The avolakia were trying to open a temporary extra-large portal to Xoriat using the energy from the deaths that had occurred during the battle(s) and to bring through what might be described as an aberration dreadnought, too large to come through any 'normal' portal. It wouldn’t have been pretty. 

*** Modified Necronauts from MM3


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:


> But one thing is certain. The Angels have found their army of aberrations.




This looks like a job for Snookums!


----------



## Solarious

shilsen said:


> ** Nameless was right. The avolakia were trying to open a temporary extra-large portal to Xoriat using the energy from the deaths that had occurred during the battle(s) and to bring through what might be described as an aberration dreadnought, too large to come through any 'normal' portal. It wouldn’t have been pretty.



Not pretty? It would have been beautiful. It might have been so threatening that you'd have to actually resurrect someone for once.


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:


> This looks like a job for Snookums!




We do not mention that name.

Why will nobody ever fill out our survey?


----------



## shilsen

As a temporary sop to anyone waiting for an update, I've posted a new bit of fiction to my World's Worst Paladin thread here.


----------



## shilsen

Less than a minute later…

“So far so good,” rasps Nameless, ignoring a rain of crossbow bolts, a few of which actually seem about to hit him, before veering away an inch from him and shooting back at the unfortunate dolgrims who fired them. The alienist uses his ring to empower a _fireball_ with arcane energy as he lobs it into the army of aberrations. 

Or half an army, since a giant _wall of fire_ almost divides the huge cavern in half, penning over a thousand aberrations on the same side as Nameless and his allies. In theory, the sheer numbers of the foe should overwhelm them, but theories go only thus far when faced with the Angels. Six pseudonatural stag beetles and a pair of huge elementals smash their way through the aberrations. Hundreds of corpses litter the cavern, some still smoking from Nameless’ spells or Luna’s _fire storm_, others drained of water and life by Korm’s _horrid wilting_. Two _cloudkill_s roll slowly through the army, forcing aberrations to flee them and leaving a string of corpses from those too slow to do so. The spells and the summoned creatures force the attackers into a relatively narrow channel when attacking, one where Gareth’s Endless Blade and Six’s aberration-bane chain can dispose of them.

Nameless nods in satisfaction and then floats higher till he can look over the _wall of fire_ in the distance and observe the actions of the aberrations on the other side. His attention is especially focused on what seems to be the leader of the army, a huge beholder over a dozen feet across, which strangely possesses no eyestalks. While the small group of mind flayers (or, more precisely, those of them which survived the spells the Angels had lobbed in their direction) seem to be leading the rest of the army in a fairly orderly retreat away from the _wall of fire_, the giant beholder has remained where it is, and is now surrounded by a small swarm of gauths. The smaller beholders, each of which has a malformed crest of some sort on its head, float only a few inches above the ground, and as Nameless watches a lance-wielding dolgrim climbs atop each.

The alienist transmits whatever he sees over the _telepathic link_ to the others as he floats back downwards. “Looks like they might be preparing a counter-attack. And I’m still not sure what that big beholder is. It doesn’t seem to have an anti-magic gaze, for one.”

“Excellent!” says Korm, hopping on the back of a _phantom stag_ he has just conjured. “Let’s beat them to it! Gareth?”

“Sure,” says the paladin, stepping back from the body of a now-headless runehound. Before he can add anything else, Korm’s mount shoots forward and the Gatekeeper reaches down to scoop him up with one hand. Moving at incredible speed and angling slightly upwards, the stag shoots through the air and over the heads of the aberration army before any of them can react. It does not pause as it reaches the _wall of fire_ but simply bursts right through, its magical fur charring a little in the flames, while the energy resistances cast by Korm and Gareth on themselves leave them unscathed.

As they disappear from view having passed through the _wall_, Luna stares after them. Then she says, her tinny voice contrasting with the giant bulk of her tendriculos form, “Okay – now _that_ was stupid! Do we have to go rescue them?”

“Maybe,” says Nameless, floating back up again. “I’ll see.” Six too floats upwards, having already used a scroll to let himself _fly_, chain whipping back and forth before him as he uses his reach and new height to advantage. Luna and Nameless add spells of their own, blasting away any enemies for a few more seconds as they check on their companions.

On the other side of the _wall of fire_ Korm swings Gareth up before him as the stag races towards their target. Before the huge beholder or the gauths around it can attack, they are upon it, and the Endless Blade slashes down, gleaming with silvery fire as it carves a gash in its side. 

At which point Korm and Gareth discover the downside of charging a swarm of beholders – even small ones – alone. As the giant beholder recoils from the attack, the eight gauths swivel and turn to bring all of their eyes to bear, shooting a mere forty-eight eyebeams at the two targets. Most of them hit, and while Gareth’s and Korm’s multiple protections negate many of the attacks, a number of effects get through. Unfortunately, among them are the eight _dispel magic_s, which combine to strip away a number of the protections, leading to further injury. 

As the two of them stagger under the magical onslaught, the gauths turn to more physical attacks and fly forward. Now that they are close enough to see details, Korm and Gareth can see that each gauth has a strange crest growing out of its upper side, resembling a seat made of bone, cartilage and flesh. These ‘saddles’ now hold riders, each of them a dolgrim wearing thick hide armor of an indeterminate nature and carrying a large wooden shield, with two of its four arms wielding a lance. Only a couple of the lances strike, but the momentum of the gauths helps them hit deeply, punching through the two Angels’ magical protections. To make matters worse, three of the dolgrims attack the already wounded stag, and as they strike its magical form falls apart, dropping Gareth and Korm out of the air.

Korm grunts as he hits the ground painfully, landing prone and adding bruises to his existing wounds. Next to him, Gareth somehow lands on his feet – but only for a second. As the paladin looks up, he meets the gaze of the huge beholder. Streams of green light well out from the edges of its eye towards the center, and then a blast of energy shoots forth, smashing into Gareth’s chest and depositing him unconscious on the ground beside Korm, blood pooling around him.* 

The Gatekeeper swears in orcish and quickly attempts to use his evil eye on the giant beholder, to no effect. He then casts his one remaining _horrid wilting_. The aberrations around him shudder and scream as the spell drains moisture from their bodies, but to his surprise and disgust, not a single one drops. Korm quickly casts a swift _flame strike_, which catches a pair of the dolgrims and their gauth mounts. Already severely wounded, they fall dying out of the air, hitting the ground in sizzling heaps. Which leaves another six gauths and dolgrims facing Korm, along with the huge beholder. _“Help!”_

“Yes, we have to rescue them,” says Nameless to Six and Luna, having seen it all and caught Korm’s mental message. “Luna, you’re too large and we’ve no time to change. You have to _dimension door_ us there and I’ll teleport everyone else out. You’ll have to use _master earth_ to follow.”

“All right,” says Luna, knowing there’s no time to argue, and her huge tentacles reach out. Six, still holding the perimeter, flicks a dolgaunt off its feet and then smashes his chain through one of its empty eye-sockets, and then feels her touch him, while her other tentacle touches Nameless. The now foot-wide magical ring around one tentacle flares with energy and the three Angels disappear, reappearing next to Korm.

Luna’s size shoves the surprised gauths aside as she appears among them, sending the small beholders momentarily reeling through the air, and Nameless seizes the chance, dropping down to touch Korm and Gareth, while Six stays by his side. A quick string of words and they vanish.

The huge beholder roars in frustration and anger, unleashing another of its virulent green beams. It smashes into Luna’s side, ripping a hole in her flesh, but the druid is relatively unhurt at this point and better able to absorb the impact. Though she is badly hurt, Luna waves a tentacle rudely as if it were only a scratch and mumbles, “You’re lucky I have to leave. Otherwise….” Not completing the sentence, she speaks the words of a spell and seems to sink into the ground, disappearing from view as multiple eye-beams strike the spot she just occupied. 

* * *
A few seconds later…

Since Luna’s _master earth_ can only carry her to a point which the earth actually has contact with, she reappears on the lowest level of Sharn, terrifying the small crowd of workmen clearing rubble nearby. Ignoring the accompanying guards, who quickly aim crossbows at her, Luna looks around and then up, grumbling under her breath and wondering if she wants to bother to fly up to the Gray House. After a second’s consideration, the druid decides that it’s been a long day and she could take a break. Plus it’s nice and cool here, in the shade of the towers.

Dropping her gaze to the people eyeing her warily, Luna waves a tentacle in a presumably reassuring manner and says, “I’m exhausted. Someone get me a fan and some water.” That said, she settles her huge bulk on the ground, leans back against the nearest tower and closes her eyes. _Ah, peace at last!_

Above her, in Upper Tavick’s Landing…

The Angels appear inside the main hall of the Gray House, startling the two liaison officers from the Royal Guard and the Redcloaks. Korm looks around, still dripping blood from multiple wounds, and says petulantly, “You brought us back here? I thought you were taking us to a better tactical position so that we could heal up and defeat the army. I wanted to defeat the army!”

Nameless rolls his eyes and rasps, “I thought you wanted to get yourself killed, seeing your cunning plan. Gareth and you are lucky to be alive.”

“Yes,” confirms Six, leaning over Gareth and using one of his many wands to stabilize him. “Can you heal him, Korm?”

“You heal him,” says Korm, his tone turning even more sulky, like a hugely overgrown and muscular teenager. “I didn’t even get to hex anyone.” He slams the meteoric blade back into its scabbard and then turns away. As he sees the two liaison officers he winks, and one of them promptly keels over and begins to snore. The big orc grins a little and then heads for the stairs. 

“Where are you going?” asks Nameless.

“To my room. To sulk. Don’t bother me!”

Nameless and Six let him go, figuring that there are more important matters to deal with. Gareth is soon awake, the natural healing gifted them by Mordain having activated, and he heals himself while they awake the unfortunate man affected by Korm’s gaze. The liaison officers explain that they were waiting for the Angels to return so that they could learn what they discovered, but Nameless prefers to speak directly to the leaders of the city’s defenses. So the three Angels and the two officers head over to Central Plateau.

A short time later, Nameless is standing around a table with Khandan Dol, leader of the Redcloak battalion, Balan Cord, chief countermage of the Blackened Book, and others, explaining exactly what they discovered and what transpired.

“So,” Khandan says thoughtfully, once the alienist has finished, “Do you expect them to attack again soon? And do you have any recommendation regarding our defenses?”

“I cannot know what they plan,” rasps the alienist, “But it seemed a gathering of forces rather than an army poised to attack. And we inflicted very severe damage on...”

“Would have been more severe,” grumbles Korm, “If you’d let me kill that big beholder.”

“Or it kill you, more likely,” frowns Nameless at the interruption.

“Hey, all you needed to do was _heal_ me. I would have _cocoon_ed Gareth and then…” 

Gareth smiles soothingly at Khandan and the others who are watching the exchange. “Don’t worry. We do this a lot! But you were asking about defenses?”

“Yes,” says Khandan. “We’re both repairing the Cogs and establishing troops there, along with defensive positions and booby-traps, in case of further attack.”

“What of the warforged?” asks Six. “Especially the workers. Have they been evacuated?”

“Many of them,” says Khandan, “But many are also helping with the reconstruction and other work, and some have chosen to gather at the Cannith Forgehold.”

“I see,” says Six. “Regarding defenses in the Cogs, I think it’s a good idea, but you have to be prepared for attack from anywhere. Nameless, you said that delvers like the one we fought can make tunnels anywhere, correct?”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “There are, of course some precautions you can take, such as…”

The discussion continues, but is interrupted again a few minutes later by a breathless messenger, who hands Khandan a parchment. The dwarf reads it and his graying eyebrows lift for a second, before he turns to the Angels. “It seems your friend, the giant plant, has appeared in lower Tavick’s and is scaring the workers.”

The Angels exchange glances and sighs before Nameless says, “I can’t emphasize this enough, but it is vitally important that they listen to her and do _not_ argue.”

Khandan nods and says dryly, “Apparently she is taking a nap.”

“Makes sense,” says Nameless “I’ve been to Xoriat and it didn’t faze me, but Luna ….um …” 

Korm puts in, “Fazes you?” 

 “Yeah.”

“Very well,” says Khandan, calling an officer to him.

Sometime later, in the lower levels…

Luna awakes, stretches and sits up to find that someone has set up a large barricade around her and guards are diverting traffic around it. Near her sit three large hogsheads of water and beside them stand two nervous-looking goblins, which have evidently been fanning her with large fans and now simply look terrified. 

A broad grin splits the tendriculos’ visage. “Ah, respect at last!” Luna grabs up the hogsheads, draining two of them, before speaking a command word. Then she rises awkwardly into the air, slowly floating up towards the Gray House.

* * *

Later that evening, Gareth gets a _sending_ from Honar in Io’lokar, saying, “Two of my friends willing to accompany us to Khesavuthir. How soon do we leave? Where shall we meet you? Are you back in Khorvaire?” After a quick discussion, Gareth replies, “Yes, we are in Khorvaire now. Will be in Io’lokar in two days. Meet you at Nalyna’s home. Thank you.”

The message promptly leads to another of the Angels’ huge discussion-cum-arguments about the feasibility and merits of returning to Khesavuthir and again facing Xagygyrag. After a good fifteen minutes have passed, Luna says, “Screw this! I’m sick of all these arguments! I’m going out. Korm, let’s go talk to our gnome.”

“Oh yes,” says Korm, jumping to his feet. “This should be fun!”

“Wait!” says Gareth suspiciously, “What gnome guy? And what are you two up to?”

“That Flim guy,” says Luna, walking away. “At the Korranberg Chronicle. I’m going to write an advice column for him.”

A look of first puzzlement and then horror crosses the paladin’s face as she and Korm pass out the door, and then he takes off after them at full speed. Six and Nameless exchange glances and quickly follow.  

“Wait, wait!” says Gareth, catching up to the two druids, “What advice column?”

“Oh, advice about all sorts of stuff. Relationship advice, for example. Like how to date a prince or something.”

“What?!”

“You’re repeating yourself,” chuckles Korm. “And since Luna mentioned that to me, I figured that I would write a cooking column. I have all these interesting ideas, especially with some of the things we have been running into.”

“You,” says Gareth, in a slightly dazed voice, “Want to write an advice column about cooking _aberrations_?!”

“No, stupid,” snorts Korm. “I know lots of interesting vegetarian options too.”

“This is absolutely unacceptable,” says Gareth. 

“Says you!” grunts Luna. “Anyway, I don’t remember asking you for permission.”

“I don’t will do any harm,” says Six thoughtfully, “And there are some ways in which this can work to our advantage.”

“What did you have in mind?” asks Nameless curiously.

“The Korranberg Chronicle is already putting out information about us,” says Six, “Some that we gave them and some that we haven’t. Lots of people know about the Angels and more are learning daily. And what they usually learn is that we are dangerous people, who terrify those around them.” Though it is impossible to make out from Six’s unchanging face and glowing, pupil-less eyes, the warforged seems to glance at Luna. “If people think we are more … accessible, it can be helpful for us.” Noting Gareth’s expression, he adds, “If you want, I’ll read what they’re writing and edit it if needed – and if they’ll let me.” 

After some more discussion, Gareth reluctantly agrees to let Luna and Korm go to the Korranberg Chronicle, or more precisely, to follow them to the KC offices and grumble a lot along the way.

Evidently people at the Korranberg Chronicle know the Angels well now, since their arrival is quickly followed by a tired-looking Flim joining them, with a pleased, if wary, expression on his face. “Hi,” he smiles, “What can I do for you?”

“Actually, it’s what I can do for you,” says Luna, with a broad grin. “I want you to put out an open call saying Luna is willing to answer questions of a personal nature, such as dating issues, that Redcloak problem, and what to do if your child wants to become a monk.” 

There is a short pause, and then Flim says slowly, “Let me be sure I understand you perfectly. You want to write an advice column for us?”

“Yes!”

“All right,” says the gnome, just as slowly as before, “That might be something I can arrange, though I’m not making any promises. But, on a related note, would any of you be willing to write something for us regarding this invasion from Xoriat? Perhaps a weekly column? That’s something people would certainly be interested in – and need to hear.” 

Korm grins as broadly as Luna has been. “Yes. I’d be very happy to do that. And I can include recipes.”

Before Flim can ask what he means by that, Luna quickly adds, “But if you accept his, you accept mine.” 

“So it’s a package deal?” asks Flim, looking at the two druids.

Korm shrugs. “You heard the lady.”

Flim promises to do whatever he can and after a little discussion of what they have been up to, the Angels take their leave. As they are heading back towards the Gray House, Korm pauses. “I’m getting a _sending_.”

The Gatekeeper immediately recognizes the source of the message as Saala Torrn. She says, “Aberrations attacking settlements near Blackwater Lake, heading for Patrahk’n, with aid from Dragon Below clans. Need aid as soon as you can. Am at Patrahk’n.” Korm does not wait to discuss this with the others but replies immediately, “We will be there immediately. Hopefully Nameless will let us kill it this time. And don’t mention the dragon to Gareth.”

Looking at the quizzical expressions around him, Korm explains to the others what the message was. Then he adds, “Patrahk’n is one of the largest towns in the Marches besides the capital, Zarash’ak. I know the area well and can use a _master earth_ to go there directly, or provide a detailed enough description for Nameless to get us there too. And we need to go there now.” He looks around again and adds, calmly but firmly, “And this isn’t a request or subject for discussion. I’m going, whether any of you do or not.”

“We’re coming, of course,” says Nameless, and the others nod. Luna grunts, “Yeah, they’ll need a real druid!”

Korm chuckles, “Sure. Everyone ready to go right now?”

“Actually, could we have half an hour?” asks Six.

“We can afford that, I think,” says Korm. “Why?”

“I want to talk to the Wayfinder’s Guild. Considering that we’re going back to Io’lokar soon, I think they’ll be interested in sending someone with us. Very interested.” 

“When did you think of doing that?”

“I’ve been thinking of it ever since we reached Argonnessen, actually,” says Six. “And if some of us are exploring journalism right now, I think I can handle tourism. Anyway, let me take care of this and we can leave.”

* * *
Some time later…

As the Angels walk through the gates of Patrahk’n, they note that the small town is bursting at the seams with refugees, even though many are camped beyond its wooden walls. Korm comments as they enter that the tribal banners outside indicate that two of the nearby orc tribes must have left their ancestral grounds and moved to this place too. The addition to the normal population has clearly had a chaotic effect, with individuals and groups scurrying around amidst great commotion. 

Despite the turmoil and the presence of many armed warriors, the Guardian Angels gain a significant amount of attention as they enter the place. Not only do they stand out significantly among the population, with Gareth’s permanently glowing figure and Six as the only warforged in sight, but a few people in the area seem to know Korm. Cries of recognition ring out as the Gatekeeper leads the group into the town. A young orc runs up and throws his arms around Korm. “Korm’akhan! It is a pleasure to see you again!”

Korm sweeps the younger orc up in a big hug and then lowers him, before introducing him to his companions. “Subot’rai is one of my distant sister-sons.” The smaller orc bows to Korm’s companions and says, “You must be the Guardian Angels from Sharn. It is an honor. Are you here to fight the aberrations?”

“Yes,” says Korm, with a broad grin. “And eat a few.” As Subot’rai looks quizzical, Korm slaps him on the back, almost taking him off his feet. “Now come along. We need to find Saala Torrn.”

Subot’rai rights himself, wincing slightly, and says, “I know where she is. Follow me.”

As the group walks deeper into the town, more and more people join them. Excited queries and whispers follow in their wake, and people constantly stop them to ask if they are there to help. As the commotion and the crowd grow, Six says to Korm, “Maybe you should reassure them in some way. At this rate, we will take ages to get through.”

“Good idea,” says Korm. Without shortening his stride, he raises his voice and cries in a booming voice, “I am Korm’akhan, wielder of the meteoric blade. And we are the Guardian Angels. Don’t worry. Now that we’re here, you’ll be fine. Probably. At least most of you won’t die. I think.”

Six looks at the suddenly grayer faces around them and sighs. “What did he say?” When Nameless translates from the orcish, Six sighs again. “Ah well,” he says, looking around, “At least most of them seem to be leaving us now.”

The Angels walk onwards, with Korm continuing to spread reassurance and gloom in equal quantities, until they eventually find Saala. The leader of the Gatekeepers is with a number of druids and warriors, evidently in the middle of a heated discussion. She quickly introduces the Angels and explains to them what has occurred. 

Saala says that an army of aberrations recently emerged from Khyber near Arashuul, a smaller town to the south, which they burned. They then headed north along Blackwater River, burning settlements along the way. They must have made some sort of plans with two of the closest clans of humans, since two clans seem to be helping the aberrations with guides and even fighting on their side. Those in their path are either fleeing or have headed to Patrahk’n, the only large town in the area. This being the Shadow Marches, where travel is often slow and difficult, evacuating Patrahk’n will be next to impossible, since it will take too much time. As a last resort, a large number of people can be sent onto Blackwater Lake, which the town rests on, and north on boats, but many would die before they could reach safety even if the aberrations did not get them. 

After explaining these details, Saala adds that she is trying to organize a defense with the town leaders. “I hope,” she says, “You will be able to help with that. And maybe even lead some of our warriors in a counterattack to slow down the army? They are nearly thirty miles away, as far as we know, which gives us about two days.”

“What sort of creatures are there in this army?” asks Nameless. “Do you know?”

“The reports from survivors of their attacks indicate that they are mainly dolgrims, led by some mind flayers. There are also apparently many creatures suited to our habitat, including chuuls, pseudonatural crocodiles and snakes.” 

“What about beholders? And what sort of ranged capacity do they have? Spellcasters?”

“No beholders have been reported. We have no reports of aberration spellcasters. It seems members of the two clans – the White Hand and the Snake’s Fang – are handling most of the spellcasting.”

“Interesting. Excuse us for a moment.” Nameless gestures for his companions to join him and they head a short distance away. A quick, whispered discussion ensues. After a couple of minutes, the Angels rejoin the Marchers.

“Yes?” asks Saala curiously.

“We have a plan,” says Korm, grinning from ear to ear. “No evacuation. And no counterattack by your troops. We’ll handle it.”

“Really? What are you going to do?”

Korm’s grin widens. “We’re going to kill them all.”



* Gareth went to -8 and Korm took over 100 hp of damage in one round.


----------



## Vorput

shilsen said:


> Korm’s grin widens. “We’re going to kill them all.”




Heh. What level are the angels at now?


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:


> Heh. What level are the angels at now?




The entire group is now 16th. They were all recently updated in the Rogues Gallery thread.

http://www.enworld.org/forum/plots-places/182305-rogues-gallery-shilsens-saturday-story-hour.html


----------



## Seekerofskill

Rackhir said:


> The entire group is now 16th. They were all recently updated in the Rogues Gallery thread.
> 
> http://www.enworld.org/forum/plots-places/182305-rogues-gallery-shilsens-saturday-story-hour.html




And with the varrious boost, the effiective CR is one or two points higher. The Guardian Angels can now successufully get a paper from a newstand in Sharn!


----------



## Rackhir

Seekerofskill said:


> And with the varrious boost, the effiective CR is one or two points higher. The Guardian Angels can now successufully get a paper from a newstand in Sharn!




That's just crazy talk. We can't possibly do that until we're well into epic levels.

Currently we could only manage that if we went en mass, hopefully with some friendly NPCs for backup.


----------



## shilsen

That evening, after nightfall …

“So we’re carrying out a cunning plan?” asks Korm, with a mixture of gloom and anticipation, “You know it’ll just fail and they’ll catch us and we’ll have to kill them the old-fashioned way, right?”

“Perhaps,” says Six, “But not if Nameless and I are right in our calculations.” He lays out a parchment on the table before the others. Drawn on it is a crude map showing Patrahk’n, the lake and the river, and the supposed location of the aberration army. “Now this is what we’ll be doing…”

A quarter of an hour later, the Guardian Angels emerge from the bole of a large tree some twenty miles from Patrahk’n. Nearby is the broad expanse of Blackwater River, gleaming darkly in the light of the six moons which are full this midwinter night. Despite the habitual heat and humidity of the Shadow Marches, there is a nip in the air, but none of the Angels notice it, having been inured to such things and also focusing on other issues.

“There,” says Korm, after having flapped his way aloft on the cloak-like wings protruding from his back, pointing to the south-west. “I see some lights. They’re a number of miles away.”

“Good,” says Six.  “Your turn, Luna.”

“Sure,” says the druid and transforms into a hawk, which is – due to Mordain’s modifications – the size of a large eagle. She flaps away awkwardly and returns a few minutes later, this time with a water rat held gently in her claws. The creature hangs there passively, looking up at the bird with what must pass for adoration among rodents. “Here you go.”

The rat quivers with fear but remains quiescent as the others approach it, only trembling slightly as Korm touches it and casts a spell. Luna then casts a second spell and chitters to the creature in its own language, before releasing it. It listens to her intently, chittering back a little, and then turns and scurries away in the direction of the aberration army.

“It’ll go to the army,” says Luna, transforming back into her own form, “But I can’t guarantee it’ll stay there. It’s just a rat, after all. Korm, is your spell working?” 

The Gatekeeper concentrates, and as he does so, his eyes turn milky white, as if he were blind. After a couple of seconds, they return to their normal color, and he says, “Yes. I can see through its eyes. Perfectly, but the angle takes a little getting used to. I like this _chain of eyes_ spell. Why haven’t we used it before?”

“Because some of you prefer to start hitting things rather than gain information about them first,” rasps Nameless. “Speaking of which, Luna…”

“Yes, I know,” says the druid, having seated herself on a comfortable clump of vegetation. “I’m doing it. You lot be quiet.” Luna begins to intone the words of a _commune with nature_, closing her eyes as she does so.

After ten minutes of quiet chanting, she says, her voice sounding distant, “It’s done. What do we want information about?”

“Powerful aberrations, presence of humans, and the general terrain.”

“All right.” Luna falls silent for a couple of minutes, eyes closed and lips moving as she concentrates on the information gained by her spell. Then she opens her eyes and says, “Okay, here’s what I saw.” Picking up a stick, she draws on the damp ground before her, scratching out a crude map. “The area’s mostly flat and the army’s camping here. They’re a large oval, with the humans in a ring around the aberrations. This side to the east is open, creating a channel to the river, which is about five hundred feet away. I think, from what I picked up, that’s for the aquatic aberrations to move back and forth without eating any of the humans.”

Luna pokes at a spot a third of the way into the camp and says, “That’s approximately where I picked up the most powerful of the aberrations. There were six of them in one spot. There are other powerful ones around the place. Also, back here,” she indicates a spot near the back of the camp, “There are some twenty or more really large ones. Not that powerful, but big. Must be twenty-thirty feet long each.”

“Siege aberrations?” asks Six, completely seriously.

“No idea. And one more thing – we showed up as powerful unnatural creatures too. All five of us.”

“Why am I not surprised?” rasps Nameless.

“Even me?” asks Gareth, frowning at the news.

“Yes, Gareth, even you,” grins Luna. “Unless there’s a big powerful unnatural creature hiding here that we can’t see.”

“Maybe I should eat fewer aberrations for a while,” muses Korm aloud. He scratches his head thoughtfully and then looks around. “I’ll think about it. So, are we going back now?”

“Yes, we are,” says Nameless.

A few minutes later, the Angels are back in their temporary quarters in Patrahk’n, waiting for Korm to relay them more information about the aberration army. The Gatekeeper checks periodically as the water rat makes its way towards the camp. 

After a good couple of hours, it is on the outskirts of the army, having spotted the hundreds of humans encamped around the aberrations. The animal dithers for a while, scurrying closer and then backing away in fear, magical compulsion and natural instinct warring with each other. Finally, as a couple of men blunder aimlessly in its direction, its nerve breaks and it runs for the water. 

Luckily for the Angels’ reconnaissance mission – and unfortunately for the rat – the motion has been noted by a hunting owl. There is a shadowy flash of wings and a shriek from the rat as the bird descends on it. As claws dig into it, Korm quickly transfers the _chain of eyes_ to the predator. The owl, having dispatched the water rat, picks it up in its claws and wings its way over part of the camp. As it flies, Korm watches through its eyes, studying the area below. 

The Gatekeeper sees that while the humans have fires lit, much of the larger area inhabited by the aberration is dark, though a few sections have large campfires burning. One such area is the section where Luna said she thought the leaders were. The area is dominated by a large, bulbous structure, its shape and apparent consistency (as far as Korm can decipher at this distance) like the top of a giant mushroom some thirty feet across without the stem. A number of such structures dot the area, all of them smaller than this one. 

As the owl continues to fly over, Korm also spots the giant aberrations Luna mentioned, near a clump of smaller mushroom-cap structures. These creatures are something he has never seen, resembling gelatinous cubes, but translucent rather than transparent. They are roughly squarish in shape, stretching from a dozen feet to over twice that length. Unlike normal gelatinous cubes, they are much lower to the ground than they are long or broad, only six feet high or so. And, if their appearance were not strange enough, their tops are covered with what looks like moss.

Korm relays what he sees to the others, as he continues to watch through the owl’s eyes. “Maybe they _are_ siege aberrations,” he says. “Those could be howdahs on them.”

“Anything’s possible with Xoriat,” says Nameless. “Keep watching.”

“I am,” grunts Korm. “Now the owl….” He breaks off as the owl banks suddenly, dropping the rat’s corpse and desperately trying to flee. But it’s too late, and as a new predator seizes onto this one, Korm quickly transfers his spell again. “Something got the owl, but I’m watching through it now,” he says, once it has occurred. “I think it might be a cloaker, but I’m not sure.”

Korm is right, and the cloaker that killed the owl flaps its way down lazily to the camp below. It lands on one of five wooden stakes sticking out of the ground near one of the large mushroom-like structures, the other four occupied by a resting cloaker each. Dolgrims are encamped around the area in groups of a dozen or so. 

The cloaker shifts and moves for a while before settling down and closing its eyes. “I think it’s going to sleep,” says Korm. “Anyway, we’ve learned a … wait, it’s opening its eyes.” He sees the reason for the disturbance, some ten dolgrims led by a dolgaunt walking by near the cloakers. As Korm watches, they walk over to the giant aberrations, which have been placed nearby in a makeshift pen of some kind. 

Entering the enclosure, two of the dolgrims begin to cut large chunks of flesh – or whatever it is made of – off a couple of the huge creatures. The pieces are loaded into panniers on the backs of the other dolgrims. The large aberrations flinch at the slicing and slowly begin to move away, but the dolgaunt waves its tentacles at them and they desist, remaining in one place and quivering gently as the process continues. Korm doesn’t get to see the end of it, as the cloaker closes its eyes again, but he is fairly certain what they are doing.

“Looks like they’re some sort of food,” he opines, having broken off his contact with the cloaker. “Knowing the damn aberrations, they’re probably food _and_ transport _and_ siege engines.”

“We’ll find out tomorrow,” says Gareth, “When we destroy them.”

“Yes,” says Luna. “I’m looking forward to this! I never got to use that spell in this way before, and the weather seems perfect for it. I forecast strong winds!”

As she chuckles to herself, Six says, “I’d like some more information, if possible. Gareth, can you cast a _divination_?”

“Not today,” says the paladin. “Tomorrow morning, but that means one less spell I can use for the battle.”

“All right,” says the warforged, reaching into his special magical backpack full of scrolls. After rummaging for a few seconds, he produces one and tosses it to Gareth. “There you go. Compliments of your Keeper.”

Gareth catches the scroll and says, “The things she gave us have been very handy. We should return to Flamekeep again to re-supply at some point.”

“Strange how you seem to think of the bastion of your faith as a supply depot,” says Korm, grinning.

Gareth’s face reddens and he says, “I do _not_! If she needed me right there now, I’d be there. I told you that her _sending_ today said the situation was stable in Thrane.”

“You also said,” Luna puts in, “That she asked when we might be able to go and help.”

“Well,” says Gareth hotly, “I told her we’re here helping Korm’s people and that we have to go back to Argonnessen for more information. If she needs us in Thrane instead, I’m sure she’ll tell me!”

“Gathering information, eh?” says Korm to Nameless, sotto voce but intentionally just loud enough for Gareth to hear, “Is that what we’re calling revenge on Xagygyrag nowadays?”

Before the paladin can retort, Six says, his metallic voice calm as ever, “Gareth – the _divination_?”

Gareth opens his mouth, snaps it shut, takes a deep breath, and then nods. Opening the scroll, he begins to read from it, gesturing as he does so. Ten minutes later, as he completes the spell, silvery light wells from his eyes. Gareth then asks the question that the others instruct him to – “How may we best defeat this army?”

The silvery glow deepens and Gareth recites the answer he receives, his voice more resonant than usual – “Defeat the celestial twins touched by Xoriat, who live as one and will die as one. Seek not solely the defeat of the army, but the reason for the army.”  

“Ah, great!” says Korm, as Gareth’s eyes return to normal. “I love cryptic messages!”

* * * * * 
Early the next morning, the aberration army has begun to stir, readying itself for its march towards Patrahk’n, when the Angels appear in their midst, right outside the large structure that Korm had studied. 

If their sudden appearance is surprising for the aberrations in the area, it is especially so for the four muscular dolgaunts which had just stepped out of the bulbous structure through a sphincter in its side. The nearest of them almost walks into Gareth as the Angels appear, and after a second of shocked amazement, they leap to the attack, tentacles flailing.

These are unusually muscular dolgaunts, bred in the depths of Khyber for speed and power, trained since birth to be killing machines. So they actually last nearly ten seconds against their foes – perhaps because two of the Angels never take a hand. Six sweeps out the feet from beneath two of them as they rush in, and then Gareth, Korm and he unleash a flurry of blows on the dolgaunts, reducing them to bloody ruin in moments.

Meanwhile Nameless rasps, “They’ve got it under control,” as he rises into the air, “Do it, Luna. Now!”

“All right!” says the druid, grinning fiercely in anticipation. She raises her arms and shouts words of power. And in response, the sky darkens above them and there is a momentary hush, as all wind movement in the area suddenly dies, as if nature too were holding its breath in anticipation. The next occurrence, while taking only seconds, stretches out before the gaze of the fascinated Angels and the doomed army. Eddies of wind flow out from Luna’s position, strengthening swiftly, raising little puffs of dust as they move away from her. The spurts of dust increase in size and begin to move slowly in a counter-clockwise motion as they move away from Luna. And thirty feet from Luna, they explode with a fury that none of the Angels has ever seen, especially not at such close quarters. Instantly, they are surrounded by a forty foot high wall of raging wind and dust as a tornado envelops the army. 

The aberrations and their allies never have a chance. The magical storm spins in a counter-clockwise direction, extending over six hundred feet away from the Angels in every direction.* Hurricane-force gusts sweep inexorably through the area, snatching up whatever is in its path, be they human, aberration or malformed animal. Cloakers attempt vainly to flap to safety and dolgaunts wrap their tentacles around the closest solid structure, but they are torn away by the wind. The humans who are lucky enough to be outside the whirlwind turn and flee, while their fellows are swept away, screaming unanswered prayers to the Dragon Below. Whatever few bushes and trees were in the area are torn out by their roots and join the whirling mass of flesh slowly being pulped by the storm.   

If that were not enough, as soon as Luna unleashes her spell, Nameless casts one too. A three hundred feet long _wall of fire_ appears, extending into the whirlwind. And as the hurricane of wind spins the hapless creatures in a circle, it hurls them through the _wall_, over and over. Thousands of screams from the dying, wounded and terrified rise around the Angels, but they barely hear them, whipped away as they are by the howling wind.

“Done,” says Nameless in satisfaction, turning back to the structure before them, which sits in the center of the sixty foot wide eye of calm which Luna had left in the middle of the storm. “Ready?”

“Yes,” replies Luna, who has been standing with arms raised, hair rippling gently in the wind. As she lowers her arms her form shifts and grows, until she is back in the tendriculos form she wears for battle. 

“Good.” Korm steps forward to the sphincter which the dolgaunts had emerged from and slices into it. The meteoric blade bites easily through the tough fleshy material, rending it apart in seconds, and soon there is a gaping hole where the obstruction once stood. Revealed beyond the opening is the interior of the structure, which seems mostly empty of both objects and living creatures. Thick rope-like strands of some dark substance form a webbing that covers its interior surface, and the only visible sign of life is a huge snake on the opposite wall. Its body coiled through and around the large strands on the wall, it hisses angrily at the intruders. A greenish-red spine made of what seem to be small tentacles extends over the majority of its back.

Though nothing else is seen, there is the sound of more hissing and movement from the darkness on either side. Nameless doesn’t waste time waiting for the hidden foes to emerge, immediately causing a giant _fireball_ to blossom inside the structure. The snake on the wall hisses loudly in pain as it is badly scorched and hurries to slither around and out of sight of the hole, and more pained hisses are heard on either side. As is the sound of flapping wings, as two figures emerge from the right to hover before the Angels.

These two are identical creatures, appearing at first glance to be extremely beautiful male humanoids with supple, lithe bodies, naked except for the boots and wrap-around skirts they wear. The effect is spoiled by the large, leathery wings on their backs, similar to those grown by Korm when wearing the aspect of the cloaker, and especially the black pits where their eyes should be. A tiny tentacle emerges from each eye-socket and wriggles slightly before retracting, like an earthworm in its hole. Both creatures have a complicated-looking sigil in their chests, and they each carry a heavy mace wielded in both hands. 

“Astral devas,” says Nameless immediately, before adding a little unnecessarily, “But different.”

“The celestial twins, I guess,” says Gareth, moving forward to join Korm in the doorway, a frown on his face as he finds himself facing two angels – or former angels, from the looks of them.

Not that the angels have any such worries, it seems, as both of them gaze eyelessly at the Angels with placid expressions. “Baran,” says one, and “Yes, Narab,” replies the other, as they nod simultaneously. 

An instant later, two _blade barrier_s appear among the Angels, one right through the spot where Korm and Gareth stand, while another reaches through Six’s and Luna’s position. And as the Angels throw themselves out of the way, the two creatures disappear.

Nameless, his _arcane sight_ letting him see them clearly, shouts, “They’re invisible. Luna – _faerie fire_! And _dispel_ the _blade barrier_s.”

“Yeah, yeah!” grunts the tendriculos, green sap running down from where the _blade_s had ripped open her side, casting swiftly. One of the _barrier_s disappears, and a second later, lavender light illumines the shapes of the two devas. But another _barrier_ remains, separating Nameless, Luna and Six from Korm and Gareth.

The alienist too is already casting, and a moment later, a horrific but now familiar form appears behind the twins. “Kha’tvan’ga,” rasps Nameless, “Destroy them.”

The eldritch horror surges forward, tentacles reaching for the devas, but something resembling a tentacle lashes out from the side at it. It is the giant snake – or another like it – and the aberrant reptile bites into Kha’tvan’ga’s side. Though it does little damage it holds on, its weight slowing the horror, and throws a coil around it. Seconds later, two more such snakes appear, similarly biting and seizing onto Nameless’ strange companion. Kha’tvan’ga rages silently against its captors, tearing gaping wounds in them, but there are too many for it to break away from.

A fourth snake snaps its head around the opening, biting at Gareth from an unexpected angle. But as it strikes, so does Six, who has darted forward, diving through the remaining _blade barrier_ so swiftly that the whirling shards of metal barely grazed his form. Now his spiked chain punches up and catches the snake in mid-strike, smashing its head to the side. Before it can recover, the Endless Blade slashes down, severing the head from the torso.

As Gareth strikes the twin devas step forward, coordinating their blows to strike in quick succession at him. The blows are heavy and the paladin stumbles backwards under the onslaught, attempting to block and strike back with the Endless Blade. Korm attacks too, but his target ignores him, even though the meteoric blade lays his arm open. Interestingly, the same wound appears on the second deva a split second later.

“Narab,” the first deva says calmly, bringing his mace down on Gareth’s arm, “Focus on this one.” His twin replies, in precisely the same voice and tone, “Yes, Baran.” As Baran’s blow forces an opening in Gareth’s defenses, Narab’s mace descends on the paladin’s head, and then does so again. The iron helmet crumples beneath the blows and Gareth drops, blood flowing from a shattered skull.

“Sh*t! Six! Give me a second!” shouts Korm, and the warforged complies, chain lashing alternately at the twins as he attempts to pull them off their feet. The only result is Six himself almost being pulled to the ground, but at least it takes a couple of seconds, and spells from Luna and Nameless add to the distraction, though they do only limited damage to their targets.

Seizing the moment, Korm reaches down to grasp Gareth’s arm and casts a spell. The new bracers on his arm flare with magic, causing the spell to affect himself and the paladin, _heal_ing them both. 

“He is healed,” says Baran, as Gareth rises back up, and Narab replies, “We should be too.” He concentrates and his wounds disappear, an instant before his twin’s do too.

“Oh, come on!” growls Luna, “That’s not fair! How do we kill these two?”

“Let me try something,” says Nameless. As Korm, Gareth and Six move in together, the alienist pulls a strangely carved rod from a pouch and waves it in the direction of the devas, speaking words of power. An instant later, one of them disappears, as Nameless’ _banishment_ takes hold. Followed a split second later, to the alienist’s disappointment, by the other.

“Hey!” says Gareth, spinning around, “What did you do?”

“Banished one,” says Nameless, frowning. “I hoped the other would remain but…,” he shrugs eloquently.

“Now how do we find them?” complains Gareth.

“I’m guessing,” says Six, backing out of the structure and away from Kha’tvan’ga, who has disposed of the aberrant snakes, “They’ll find us soon enough. Remember, someone was _scry_ing us earlier, and I doubt it’s one of our friends.”

“Well,” says Luna, lumbering forward, “Let’s clean up this place and go home.” She looks around at the still raging winds. “We’ve got a _lot_ of cleaning up to do.”


* High level druids and Control Winds are a terrifying combination.


----------



## Rackhir

> Control Winds
> 
> Transmutation [Air]
> Level: Air 5, Drd 5 Components: V, S Casting Time: 1 standard action Range: 40 ft./level Area: 40 ft./level radius cylinder 40 ft. high Duration: 10 min./level Saving Throw: Fortitude negates Spell Resistance: No
> 
> You alter wind force in the area surrounding you. You can make the wind blow in a certain direction or manner, increase its strength, or decrease its strength. The new wind direction and strength persist until the spell ends or until you choose to alter your handiwork, which requires concentration. You may create an “eye” of calm air up to 80 feet in diameter at the center of the area if you so desire, and you may choose to limit the area to any cylindrical area less than your full limit.
> 
> Wind Direction: You may choose one of four basic wind patterns to function over the spell’s area.
> 
> • A downdraft blows from the center outward in equal strength in all directions.
> 
> • An updraft blows from the outer edges in toward the center in equal strength from all directions, veering upward before impinging on the eye in the center.
> 
> • A rotation causes the winds to circle the center in clockwise or counterclockwise fashion.
> 
> • A blast simply causes the winds to blow in one direction across the entire area from one side to the other.
> 
> Wind Strength: For every three caster levels, you can increase or decrease wind strength by one level. Each round on your turn, a creature in the wind must make a Fortitude save or suffer the effect of being in the windy area.
> 
> Strong winds (21+ mph) make sailing difficult.
> 
> A severe wind (31+ mph) causes minor ship and building damage.
> 
> A windstorm (51+ mph) drives most flying creatures from the skies, uproots small trees, knocks down light wooden structures, tears off roofs, and endangers ships.
> 
> Hurricane force winds (75+ mph) destroy wooden buildings, sometimes uproot even large trees, and cause most ships to founder.
> 
> A tornado (175+ mph) destroys all nonfortified buildings and often uproots large trees.




For Luna with a bead of Karma running (+4 caster levels) that's a 800' radius (1600' diameter) area, with the winds cranked up to 175 mph and IIRC we had a "fortune" card that let us step up the severity of the weather a notch...

The army never stood a chance.

We had initially planned on putting up more walls of fire or possibly even a prismatic wall, but quickly decided anything else we did past the first wall of fire would have been irrelevant.


----------



## The_Warlock

Well done!

Yeah, Control Winds is why one of the characters in my campaign gained the appellation "Bloodstorm."

Just...Brutal.


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## Rackhir

Well the "twins" have just suffered an unfortunate accident, but as you will find out _The Power of Suck_, cuts both ways...


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## carborundum

Oooooh, I can't wait!

Will the update be here before Christmas? Only Santa knows....!


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Oooooh, I can't wait!
> 
> Will the update be here before Christmas? Only Santa knows....!



HO! HO! HO!

Ahem. Actually, no update by Christmas, but there'll be a couple over the next couple of weeks, since I'm off from college now. Watch this space.


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## Quartz

The_Warlock said:


> Yeah, Control Winds is why one of the characters in my campaign gained the appellation "Bloodstorm."




Control Winds + Blade Barrier = Food blender.


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## carborundum

Finally made it to the keyboard!
Happy Christmas you lot!


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## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> Finally made it to the keyboard!
> Happy Christmas you lot!




And a merry slightly-warmed-over-pagan-winter-solstice-festival to you too!


----------



## shilsen

Here's a quick and short example of why my group is mental...

* * * * *

With their enemies having either fled or been destroyed by the magical storm, which still rages around them, the Angels enter the structure which the twin former devas had occupied. The inside is almost completely empty, except for the vinelike tendrils which grow across the walls. The only other thing in the hemisphere, pushed up against one side, is a rough, uncarved grey stone about two feet across.

“What’s this?” asks Luna, studying the stone with a distasteful expression. “Looks like it has some weird liquid on it.” 

“Warpstone*,” says Nameless instantly, realizing as he does so that he has never seen it before. His voice takes on the pedantic tone which it does when he shares information gained not via experience but through his connection with Xoriat, the daelkyr and the Great Old One, Cyäegha – “That ‘sweat’ on it is characteristic and constant. It is a material normally only found on Xoriat, which can affect creatures and terrain in the area in strange ways. Usually it has to be in the same place to affect things around it, and the longer it stays in one area the greater the effect (in intensity and in distance). Where creatures are concerned, it needs to be in close proximity with them for long periods of time to have an effect. Daelkyr and other aberrations specialized in fleshwarping can control the effects, using it to mold creatures as they wish. Warpstone can also affect magical locations and items, though the effect is weaker than on non-magical terrain and on creatures. Some aberrations use it as a component in creating some of their magical items, and especially symbionts (which are often fed/infused with warpstone as part of the process).” He stops and chuckles harshly, “Don’t anyone tell Mordain about this. I think he’d kill us all to get his hands on it.”

“Thank you, professor Nameless,” says Luna sarcastically. “Maybe we can have some fun with it.” 

“It sounds like something we should destroy,” says Gareth instantly, but Luna ignores him. She picks up the warpstone in her huge tentacles with minimal effort, and then says, “Hey – check this out!” Lying beneath the warpstone in a hollow is what seems to be an oblong bowl made of blue crystal.

As she reaches for the bowl, Nameless snaps, “Wait!” The alienist steps forward, ignoring what passes for a scowl on the druid’s now-tendriculos face. “It’s highly magical, with strong divination and abjuration auras.” After having ascertained that they do not mark a magical trap but are simply signs of the object’s inherent power, Nameless carefully picks it up. As soon as he touches it, he feels a faint – and inimical – pressure, as if contact with the object had caused it to make some sort of assault on his mind, but Nameless’ _mind blank_ renders him immune to it. “We need to study this later,” he says. “Put it and the stone away.”

“I still saw we should destroy it,” insists Gareth. 

“Maybe later,” says Korm, chuckling grimly as he waves a hand to indicate the entire group. “Seriously – what could it do to us that hasn’t already been done?”

Gareth gives in with a poor grace and the Angels step outside. Once Luna has _dispel_led the storm, the Angels look at what it leaves behind. Hundreds of bodies, torn, burned and battered, now litter the landscape around them, and they stand in the center of a giant circle of blood, flesh and gore. Korm whistles slowly. “Damn – we are _nasty_!”

The Angels proceed to quickly scan the area for valuables and other interesting items, but little of note shows up among the bodies. Having picked up whatever few things they wish to take, they then head off to clean up the mess, as Luna puts it. 

This takes a fair amount of time, since the survivors have fled in terror every which way, and the Angels chase down and destroy as many of them as they can. The fleeing fugitives range from members of the two human clans to the giant aberrations which resemble malformed gelatinous cubes. The latter are found singly or in small clumps fleeing slowly and blindly away from the scene of the one-sided battle, and are blasted with spells and arrows from a distance until they fall apart. The clan-members put up more of a defense, but it is a hopeless one, and the Angels dispose of them brutally and clinically.

The only captive they take is an unlucky dolgaunt, whom Six simply knocks down and out while the others are carving up its allies. When they have revived it, the creature first struggles and then, seeing that it is futile, refuses to respond in any way to the Angels’ questions.

After a quick discussion with the others, Korm suddenly turns to face it, his visage very different than it was a few moments ago. His chin has elongated greatly and has grown into four short tentacles, while his mouth seems to have descended below them, as evidenced by his slightly muffled tones. “I am a mindflayer and your boss!” he says confidently.

“What?!” says the dolgaunt, confusion clear on its eyeless face.

“Oh, wait!” Korm concentrates and then winks at the creature, calling on his druidic powers to focus magical energy through his eyes, beguiling the dolgaunt into considering him its best friend. The aberration fails to resist the Gatekeeper’s power and is even more confused now. “My … master,” it finally says, looking first at Korm and then at the others, “Why have you captured me? Why are you with these creatures from Khorvaire?”

“Khorvaire?” asks Nameless, speaking impeccable daelkyr, as he steps into view. He has manifested his aspect and dropped his habitual disguise, and the myriad eyes which cover his face, body and arms stare at the dolgaunt. The alienist reaches up with his tentacle to scratch his chin. “Is that what you think of us – fool?”

As the dolgaunt stares back and forth, Korm says, “Tell me – why did you survive? Didn’t you know the real plan?”

“Plan? What plan?” asks the dolgaunt, almost whimpering with its lack of comprehension.

Korm cuffs it lightly across the face, a blow which snaps its head back and almost dislocates its head. “Fool! Answer me!”

“Please – master!” This time the dolgaunt is actually whimpering. “I knew of no plan. I am a faithful servant of the masters. I hear and obey.”

Korm exchanges a glance with Gareth, sitting behind the dolgaunt. The paladin’s eyes glow silver, the argent light indicating that he is _detect_ing the hapless aberrations’s thoughts. He nods to indicate that it is telling the truth.

“All right. You are a fool, but a loyal one. Tell me of … um, the twins.”

The dolgaunt looks blank for a moment and then says, “The lords Baran and Narab? Do you not know them?”

“Fool!” roars Korm to hide the fact that he has little idea what he’s saying. “That’s part of the plan! Which you don’t know about! Clearly! So just tell me what you know about them!”

“Where did they come from?” adds Six helpfully. “And how long ago?”

“Yes!” says Korm quickly. “What the metal monster said!”

Still thoroughly confused, the dolgaunt hurriedly complies, “I know little of them, master. I only saw them days ago, before we came up to the surface. The other masters said that they had the favor of the high lord Kyrzin.” Korm and Nameless note the reference to the daelkyr lord – and supposed creator – of oozes, whose realm supposedly lies beneath the Shadow Marches. The dolgaunt continues, “I was told that they can travel between the worlds. They were sent here when the gates to Xoriat were opened. Truly, master, I know nothing more!”

Korm nods, attempting to keep a stern expression on his face even though the creature’s responses are making him laugh inwardly. “Do you know why this army was formed? Huh?” 

“To raid the upper world?” asks the dolgaunt in return.

Korm exchanges another glance with Gareth, who says, “He really doesn’t know anything else.”

“All right,” says Korm, before turning back to the dolgaunt. He leans forward and places a hand on its shoulders. “You have done well. Thank you.”

And then, as the dolgaunt begins to smile, Korm’s head snaps forward and the tentacles burrow into the dolgaunt’s skull. It screams in agony, thrashes around for a few seconds, and then goes limp in the Gatekeeper’s grasp, as Korm continues to dig deeper. There is a cracking sound, followed by a nauseating squishing and then an even worse slurping, as Korm reaches into and begins to devour the creature’s brain.

“Ahem!”

Korm looks up at the faces around him, his tentacles still buried in the creature’s skull and his face attached to its head, gray matter trickling slowly from under his tentacles where his mouth is. “What? We were done with him. And I’m hungry. Don’t look at me like that! It’s just a snack! I can quit eating aberrations anytime. Really!”

Despite his lack of breath, Six manages to sigh and turns away. “I’m never quite sure,” he says quietly, mostly to himself, “Why I travel with you people.”


* Thank you, Warhammer!


----------



## carborundum

Wow, an update slipped past my radar. An update! Whoopdidoo!

Cheers Sil - hope you had a great Xmas, and congratulations for getting Korm addicted to aberration brains. Quite an achievement!


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Wow, an update slipped past my radar. An update! Whoopdidoo!
> 
> Cheers Sil - hope you had a great Xmas, and congratulations for getting Korm addicted to aberration brains. Quite an achievement!




Thanks. Actually it wasn't that difficult. Give a PC mechanical benefits with flavor/roleplaying problems and a lot of the time they'll totally go for it. Plus Korm's player likes having weird stuff happen with/to his PCs.

And here's another update for the new year...

* * * * *
When the Guardian Angels return to Patrahk’n, they are met by first questions about the giant storm that they had seen o the south, then disbelief, and finally jubilation as the people of the town and the orcish tribes which fled to it realize that they are safe. As the town breaks into wild revelry, their saviors make their way to meet Saala, having to pause constantly to accept gleeful or tearful thanks from the people around them. When they eventually meet the leader of the Gatekeepers, she greets them with a broad smile, having heard the news already, and then takes each of them by the hand.

“No problem,” says Korm, grinning broadly. “But do you have somewhere private? Nameless wants to ask you something.”

Once they are alone with Saala and a couple of her most trusted Gatekeepers, Nameless displays the bowl and the stone. “The _divination_ we used earlier indicated that we should focus on learning the reason for the army’s existence. I doubt that it was created only to destroy Patrahk’n or the other settlements in the area. And I believe this bowl can provide some information. But it will be risky for me to use it, since I have ascertained that I need to remove my _mind blank_ and mentally contact it. Can you provide any protection for me? Also, do you have any idea of anything particularly important in this area?”

Saala scratches her chin as she considers the question. Then she and the older of the other Gatekeepers discuss it for a few moments, and then she shakes her head. “Nothing comes to mind. There are some old ruins from the Daelkyr War here and there, as well as a couple of openings to Khyber, but such things can be found throughout the Marches, and none are of particular power or importance. Certainly nothing like the location with the ziggurat you discovered, for example.”

“Yes, the ziggurat,” says Nameless meditatively, “I have been thinking of that for a while, but that is a matter for another time. Thank you. It seems I shall have to attempt to use this bowl after all. Now – about the protection…?”

Saala nods. “I am not certain how much aid out magic can give you, especially at such short notice, but we will perform a ritual for you which we use when sending our warriors against the minions of Xoriat and the daelkyr. It should strengthen your mind.”

A little over an hour later, Nameless sits in the same chamber, with the bowl on the table before him, small dots of color on his face and hands indicating the bestowal of ritual protection on him by the Gatekeepers. Saala and the other Angels watch expectantly. 

After dismissing his _mind blank_, Nameless takes a deep breath and touches the bowl. Instantly, his _arcane sight_ reveals a surge of magic flow up his arms and he feels a mental jolt as the object attacks his mind. The alienist realizes that anyone else, even among his companions, would likely have been driven insane at the contact, but his mind has seen and dealt with things far beyond their comprehension. He resists it with an effort, and then, focuses on bending the bowl to his will. 

Instantly, a translucent gray mist appears within the bowl, lit with myriad pulsing lights. The mist solidifies slightly, forming a rough, undulating surface, and the lights rise to float just above it.

“What’s that?” asks Gareth.

“A map of Khorvaire,” says Nameless confidently, gleaning the information both from the bowl and his ability to see patterns that nobody else in the room can. 

“You sure?” asks Korm skeptically. “Then what are those lights?”

Nameless focuses a little more, his forehead beginning to bead with sweat. “Armies. The aberration armies moving across the Shadow Marches.”

“Really? Past, present or future?” asks Luna.

Nameless almost breaks off contact in surprise. “By the gods – that’s actually a good suggestion!” As Luna snorts, he focuses further, feeling a growing pressure inside his head, attempting to see if he can discern the future of these armies. Sure enough, the dots elongate slowly into glowing lines, flowing and curving over the surface of the gray mist. “Yes!” says Nameless with satisfaction, “I can see their future movements.” His voice wavers slightly. “I’ll have to break contact soon. This is harder than I hoped, and I think it takes regular practice...”

As his voice trails off, Gareth hurriedly casts a _prayer_ and then a _protection from evil_ on Nameless, just in case, but they seem to have no evident effect, and the alienist finally has to let go the bowl. He pulls back, gasping slightly, and says, “That was instructive, and I learned one last thing before I had to stop – the attacks radiate out from a central point.”

Six, who had quickly attempted to sketch the movement of the lights, holds up a squiggle of lines silently, his posture betokening the curiosity that his metal face cannot.

“It makes sense if you consider it at a seventh-dimensional level,” explains Nameless with a knowing smirk. “They clearly move away from a specific location – where the ziggurat is located.”

“Really?” frowns Saala. “That can’t be good.” Then she studies Nameless critically and says, “But we can discuss the meaning of these matters later. I will discuss what you have told me with some others. All of you get some rest. You have done much for the Marches today, and I don’t want to kill you with over-exertion.”

“No,” mutters Luna as Saala leaves, “We’re going to die when some aberration eats us.”

“Not,” grins back Korm, “If I can eat it first!”

* * * * * * * * * *
The next morning, the Angels use a number of divinations to gain as much information as they can about their current situation and the unusual objects that they have obtained. 

Nameless uses a _legend lore_ on the crystal bowl, and receives the reply, “The bowl of knowledge reveals the reach of the daelkyr. It sees where the spawn of Xoriat were, where they are and perhaps where they will be. But to read it is to be open to the touch of the lords of madness. Use it, beware of it, learn from it, and discard it, for its value passes soon.” 

“Hmm,” Nameless says thoughtfully, “I’m fairly sure it is part of a network of such items which allow the aberrations to share information about the movements of their force. Presumably once they know what we’re doing, they’ll shut it down.” 

“Or,” says Luna, “Feed us false information.”

“True. We will have to weigh the utility against the risk, and be wary of the information.” The alienist turns to Gareth. “Your turn.”

The paladin begins by casting a _divination_, asking for advice regarding an attack by the twin aberrant celestials by the end of the next day. The answer he receives is – “Battle you will soon, whether on their terms or yours. Xoriat seeks you now, more than it ever has, and the twins desire to be its blades.”

“Soon? That could mean anything,” says Six. “That ‘advice’ wasn’t much help.”

“Sorry,” says Gareth, shrugging, “I just ask the questions. So, I have one more _divination_. What do I ask?”

“I’d like to know more about the ziggurat,” says Nameless. “I had already been thinking that we need to return to the ziggurat sooner or later. If the armies are spreading out from it, we definitely need to investigate it soon. But we need allies. Last time, we barely got out alive. If the aberrations have retaken the site, which seems likely, who knows what is there?”

“Is that what I should ask?” queries Gareth. “_Divination_s are not that good for pure information, but better for advice about some action.”

“How about simply asking what we will accomplish if we can destroy the ziggurat?” suggests Korm. After some discussion, the Angels decide to go with that question. Gareth casts the spell and then recites the answer as he hears it in his head – “You will close the great gate that you opened, with your blood and your magic. And the greatest weapon of the daelkyr will not be unleashed in Khorvaire. For now. If you succeed. But choose your time and gather your weapons well. To haste much, and to go unprepared, will likely ….” He pauses, staggers slightly and then pitches on his face, out cold. 

“Ah, sh*t!” Korm revives Gareth by the simple expedient of smacking him till he wakes up. The paladin groans and sits up, rubbing his head. “What happened?”

“We don’t know,” says Luna. “You just went over suddenly. What did you see?”

“Nothing,” says Gareth, “It just suddenly went black. I…” He rubs his forehead. “Ah! I remember. I felt just like this when I tried to _detect thoughts_ on the ziggurat. That does it! I’m never letting you guys talk me into using any divinations on that damn ziggurat!” 

“Stop whining,” says Nameless curtly, “We’re all taking risks on a regular basis, as I did with the bowl.”

Gareth scowls, the expression even darker because he has realized the effects of the pain and general fuzziness in his head. “Easy for you to say! I can’t cast any spells*. Not even an orison!”

“All right, all right!” says Six wearily, popping open his magical scroll-case and extracting one. “You’re lucky I still have some of the scrolls Jaela gave us.” 

Once he has used a _restoration_ on Gareth, the paladin looks a little happier. “What do we do next?”

“We need to learn more about the ziggurat,” says Nameless, “And weigh our options. But for now, first Sharn and then Argonnessen.” 

“Once we tell Saala we’re leaving,” says Korm, and the alienist nods. “We need the Gatekeepers to take as much advantage of the information about the armies in the Marches as they can. And later we’ll have to see what I can find out regarding other parts of Khorvaire.”

When they have done so, the Guardian Angels _teleport_ to Sharn. There, they find the city still slowly rebuilding after the attacks, and they split up to deal with whatever they think needs to be done before they can leave again. Nameless remains behind in the Gray House to speak with Trillia, who is still living there, and then accompanies her to the mage guild to pick up arcane supplies. Gareth proceeds to the Cathedral to pray and then to meet Lalia. The Sentinel Marshal, as always, is overjoyed to see her fiancé, until he explains that he plans to return to Argonnessen and hunt the dragon which killed him once. This earns Gareth some smacking, lots of yelling, and a number of hugs and kisses. And a final smack when he leaves.

Six has a less exciting time, making his way to the Wayfinder’s Foundation after having made sure to collect a Zil lawyer from House Sivis whom he had spoken to earlier. When he arrives at the Foundation, he finds two of their members, a man named Tiem and a female half-elf named Fanil, ready to accompany them. Before they leave, he signs a contract with the Foundation (which the gnome lawyer had brought with him) which covers exactly what their relationship with the Angels in this matter will be, especially that the Angels will not be liable for any loss the Foundation accrues. Having made the agreement that they will bring the two Wayfinders back from Argonnessen in a week’s time, Six takes them back to the Gray House with him.

Luna and Korm, meanwhile, visit the Korranberg Chronicle office. Evidently the scribes there have learned enough of the Angels, since they hear a yell as they approach and Flim is waiting outside for them when they arrive. “Hello,” he says quickly. “I have asked the main office about your columns and they have agreed. Now…”

“Excellent,” says Korm, pulling out a parchment covered in badly scrawled writing. “I brought this for you. Directions for fighting dolgaunts. And a recipe for them too!”

“Truly excellent,” says Flim, but Luna interrupts, “Hey! What about mine?”

“We will have a list of questions sent to the Gray House,” says Flim smoothly, before hazarding, “People might be a little more interested in Korm’s, you know. You have noticed the things going on in Khorvaire, right?”

“But this is important too!” insists Luna. “People need relationship advice!”

“Yes, yes,” agrees Flim and changes the subject. “Will you be here long? Or are you going somewhere again?”

Immediately distracted, Luna says, “We’re going to Argonnessen and we’re going to kill dragons because one took our stuff and it’s like when they come into your house and take your furnishings and mess up your bathroom. And that’s just wrong!” 

Flim sighs and decides to quit while ahead. “Is there anything else?” 

Korm looks around, looks at Flim, looks around again, and then rolls his eyes. The gnome stares at him in puzzlement for a few seconds, till Korm whispers, “I’m trying to be discreet!” 

Flim sighs again and steps closer. Korm leans down and says – “There are these bad, evil, fallen angels. We killed their army and banished them.” 

“Um, yes? And?”

Luna and Korm promptly begin to explain all about the angels, speaking at once. Finally, they end simultaneously, with a chorus of, “Don’t tell anyone.” 

“You have no fear of …,” begins Flim, when Luna says, “Oh yeah – we’re also going to the ziggurat soon!” The two then proceed to mention the ziggurat and discuss it in various ways. Only when Flim is quite confused do they relent and leave. The gnome watches them go, clutches Korm’s parchment tightly and walks back into the building behind him, rubbing his head and stumbling slightly.


* 8 pts of Wisdom drain will do that to you


----------



## Vorput

Sadly, unbeknownst to the Angels, Flim is actually a Xoriat spy.

It's always the ones you least suspect...


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:


> Sadly, unbeknownst to the Angels, Flim is actually a Xoriat spy.




If only that was true... Having Korm and Luna feeding their inane blather directly to them, Xoriat would quickly go insane and leave us alone. The plane of madness is peanuts compared to dealing with the Angels.

We did have a rare, quick and clean cut victory tonight though.


----------



## carborundum

Wonderful - two updates in a week!
Everything's nicely set up for the next stupendous battle - can't wait!


----------



## Rackhir

I have decided that Nameless's first action once he hits 17, is going to be to _Gate_ in a newspaper vendor...


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## carborundum

Oh dear oh dear oh dear. Nameless with Gate - the mind boggles. Then bursts into tears.


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## The_Warlock

carborundum said:


> ... - the mind boggles. Then bursts into tears.




No, no. You're mind then bursts into a halo of glowing worms that form countless portals to madness.


----------



## Rackhir

The_Warlock said:


> No, no. You're mind then bursts into a halo of glowing worms that form countless portals to madness.




Actually the REALLY scary part, is that aside from Six. The Alienist IS THE SANE ONE!!!


----------



## The_Warlock

Rackhir said:


> Actually the REALLY scary part, is that aside from Six. The Alienist IS THE SANE ONE!!!




I assume that's because the alienist is just "Mad", and the rest of them are "Crayzee", possibly even "Nvtz"


----------



## shilsen

The_Warlock said:


> No, no. You're mind then bursts into a halo of glowing worms that form countless portals to madness.




Hmm... (goes off to scribble some notes)

More seriously, I'm getting busy with college restarting and setting things up for the two courses I'm teaching this semester (one of which I only got handed this week), so the next update will take a while to arrive.


----------



## Vorput

carborundum said:


> Oh dear oh dear oh dear. Nameless with Gate - the mind boggles. Then bursts into tears.




Ahhhh.... Pseudonatural Balors- is there any problem they can't solve?


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## Rackhir

Vorput said:


> Ahhhh.... Pseudonatural Balors- is there any problem they can't solve?




They're hopeless at gardening.


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## The_Warlock

Rackhir said:


> They're hopeless at gardening.




But they'd be perfect for Brimstone Zen Gardening...


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## Rackhir

The_Warlock said:


> But they'd be perfect for Brimstone Zen Gardening...




That doesn't involve much... growing... of things.

Besides they have terrible taste in shoes.


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## The_Warlock

Rackhir said:


> That doesn't involve much... growing... of things.
> 
> Besides they have terrible taste in shoes.




True, but they can make those fabulous wave pattens in stone with enough heat, or solidify the ones in a sand version so nobody disturbs the perfect evil order of the garden.

I agree totally with the shoe issue.


----------



## shilsen

Since we'll be between updates for a while, here's a link to a thread I started on the General RPG Discussion board about my other group, which I just started DMing for. They're, as you'll see, kinda ... special. We might have a story hour for them too one day, but I think it might get me (and Mallus and Rolzup, who are players there) banned from ENWorld.


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## carborundum

Sounds amazing - let us know if you post it somewhere 

I'm looking forward to reading it, and my granny's got no internet!


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Sounds amazing - let us know if you post it somewhere
> 
> I'm looking forward to reading it, and my granny's got no internet!



Yeah, it's one of the most fun campaigns I've ever been involved in. We're hoping to get a Story Hour going someday, and when we do, I'll mention it here.

On a marginally connected note, I started teaching for the semester yesterday and mentioned in my classes while introducing myself that I'm a card-carrying geek, I play D&D very regularly, my dice are actually in my bag (and will be used during class), and I firmly believe that being a teacher makes me a better DM and DMing makes me a better teacher. The students cracked up


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## carborundum

What's it say on your card?


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> What's it say on your card?



"The geek shall inherit the earth"


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## carborundum

Knocks the door, tries it, opens it, sticks head in...

Helloooo???

If you're out having fun writing the 'mature' campaign up and posting it somewhere else, story-starved fans have a RIGHT to know. A right, I tell you!

(Or are you just busy?)


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Knocks the door, tries it, opens it, sticks head in...
> 
> Helloooo???
> 
> If you're out having fun writing the 'mature' campaign up and posting it somewhere else, story-starved fans have a RIGHT to know. A right, I tell you!
> 
> (Or are you just busy?)




Alas, due to events in-game and out, I've been away from story-hour writing for a while and likely will be in the immediate future. It'll probably be at least a couple of weeks before the next update.


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## carborundum

Thanks for the stupendously quick reply! All the best with all the stuff, mate.


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## carborundum

Say, Mr. Shilsen, if you have a few minutes could you maybe let me know how much trouble it is to handle Nameless's permanent Arcane Sight? I've a player who wants to take it and I'm more than slightly worried it'll take over the game.


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Say, Mr. Shilsen, if you have a few minutes could you maybe let me know how much trouble it is to handle Nameless's permanent Arcane Sight? I've a player who wants to take it and I'm more than slightly worried it'll take over the game.



It's never been a problem for me, and if you just make sure to remember it most of the time, I think you'll be fine with it. When prepping things I would usually make a note of what it reveals. It came in handy a lot of the time but it's never been even close to game-breaking. 

There are two things I'd just make sure to remember: (1) Any campaign setting with a lot of magic (i.e. the average D&D setting) means many people will be aware of the existence of such magic and take it into account. (2) You'll need to decide how to treat the fact that a Dispel Magic or Greater Dispel can remove permanencied spells. I house-ruled that while a permanencied spell could be dispelled, it wouldn't cost any more XP to have recast.


----------



## carborundum

That sounds do-able, and the house rule is a nice touch. thanks very much!

How do you do it with illusions? Does he basically recognize them instantly, or do you allow, say, a caster level check for the illusion magic to disguise or hide itself. I'm thinking of either illusory terrain over a pit, or an invisible enemy (possibly equipped with magic items, maybe just an invisible demon).


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> That sounds do-able, and the house rule is a nice touch. thanks very much!
> 
> How do you do it with illusions? Does he basically recognize them instantly, or do you allow, say, a caster level check for the illusion magic to disguise or hide itself. I'm thinking of either illusory terrain over a pit, or an invisible enemy (possibly equipped with magic items, maybe just an invisible demon).




I actually thought about doing the caster level check too but decided it wasn't worth it in the long run. The way I ran it, he instantly picked up the magical aura and knew it was an illusion (esp. due to Nameless' inanely high Arcana check). But that didn't mean he knew exactly what it was. For example, if he saw a rug on the floor and saw a strong illusory aura all over it, that didn't mean he knew whether it was an illusion of a rug over a pit, an ooze with an illusion aura on it, or anything else. Or if he saw a faint illusion aura on someone, he didn't know if it meant the person had a Disguise Self up or was benefiting from Displacement. In short, it was very handy but didn't make all magic and illusions irrelevant.

Also, the spell Nondetection would help hide illusion auras. So if someone had an Invisibility spell up and also a Nondetection, the person with the Arcane Sight would need to make a caster level check to detect it.


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## carborundum

Thanks again, o bearded one!

That's helpful and reassuring in one paragraph. Ever think of working in education?


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Thanks again, o bearded one!
> 
> That's helpful and reassuring in one paragraph. Ever think of working in education?



Hell, no! I've seen what infests education and academia and it's scary! I'd much rather just be teaching


----------



## carborundum

LOL - yeah, me too!

Say, speaking of halflings with slings  - didn't you run such an encounter once? Can you remember if you ever posted the stats of those nasty little monsters?


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Say, speaking of halflings with slings  - didn't you run such an encounter once? Can you remember if you ever posted the stats of those nasty little monsters?




I think I did something with halflings using boomerangs once, but not slings. They were the Boromar enforcers that the PCs had to fight in an illegal arena. Is that what you had in mind? If so, let me know and I'll try to dig up the stats for you.


----------



## carborundum

Boomerangs! That was it! Thank you!

(Searches for boomerang and finds the stats in the Rogues Gallery thread)

I'm looking for lowish level stuff to challenge my PCs (9th level now) with sneaky tactics and interesting feats. Now to find that part of your story hour!

Basically, I'm rewriting an encounter in my Savage Tide game. The party arrive at a beach town/ trading post and it's under attack by raiders. Problem is, the raiders in the adventure are Rogue 1/ Fighter 1 - and that's not enough. A few halfling boomerang enforcers on the side will give me some fun!


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Basically, I'm rewriting an encounter in my Savage Tide game. The party arrive at a beach town/ trading post and it's under attack by raiders. Problem is, the raiders in the adventure are Rogue 1/ Fighter 1 - and that's not enough. A few halfling boomerang enforcers on the side will give me some fun!




Do you have/use The Book of Nine Swords? If so, rather than coming up with boomerang-user stats and such, I'd recommend using that book and some of the maneuvers, while describing them in-game as halflings using boomerangs. 

For example, you could describe the Shadow Garrote (Shadow Hand 3rd lvl) maneuver as a halfling hurling a boomerang and striking a PC in the throat, or the Fan the Flames (Desert Wind 3rd) maneuver as a boomerang being hurled and bursting into flame as it sails towards the target. 

That's something which I had already started doing in 3e and really like about 4e design philosophy - the idea that you can/should take the existing mechanics and throw your own flavor on it.


----------



## carborundum

Oh, that'll be hilarious! Thanks Mr. S - sometimes the answers are right at hand (or on the bookshelf) and you just don't see them.

What to do tomorrow - Writing the project evaluations I've been avoiding all week or statting up halfling warblades. Oh dear.


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Oh, that'll be hilarious! Thanks Mr. S - sometimes the answers are right at hand (or on the bookshelf) and you just don't see them.




Glad to help. I'm a big fan of the "mechanics = WotC; flavor = me" approach, so I tout it when I can.



> What to do tomorrow - Writing the project evaluations I've been avoiding all week or statting up halfling warblades. Oh dear.




Write the evaluation, while sometimes taking a break for warblade creation? That's how I'm doing my grading now, taking breaks for 4e encounter-building.

On a slightly more serious note, I've got a couple of suggestions there too. I find that halfling swordsages work out nicer than warblades defensively, since they get more maneuvers, have better defenses with the use of both Dex and Wis, and the loss of BAB is compensated for by using touch attacks. Also, something which worked well for me in using the Bo9S is to just pick 3-4 maneuvers at most, since the NPCs will usually not get to use more (and ones they know but don't have prepared are irrelevant). Similarly, don't bother with skills besides the 2-3 you think might matter, which you can max out. The less prep the better, I always say.


----------



## carborundum

Cheers!

I ended up working more than D&D-ing but I promised the kids their evaluations tomorrow. Silly me!

Swordsages would be funky too - good idea, thanks! I was also thinking rogue/ninjas, just so they could disappear and reappear a few times before they die (but get sneak and sudden strike damage in each time first).

Now to rewrite the pirate gang as a special attack/recon squad, composed of ninjas, swordsages, duskblades and oh... lets say battle sorcerors. That bunch of 4th & 5th level enemies should be a proper welcoming committee!


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Swordsages would be funky too - good idea, thanks! I was also thinking rogue/ninjas, just so they could disappear and reappear a few times before they die (but get sneak and sudden strike damage in each time first).




Ninjas are a fun class. But if you want, you can do a reasonable facsimile using the swordsage too, picking a lot of Shadow Hand stuff, esp. Cloak of Deception and Assassin's Stance. Activate Assassin's Stance and use Cloak of Deception to get some sneak attacks off, and then next round, disappear into the shadows (Shadow Jaunt to a spot the PCs can't see and then move). Recover your Cloak of Deception maneuver next round and then pop back in for more sneak-attacky goodness (with Shadow Blade Technique and the touch-attack maneuvers ensuring that you hit). It takes a few rounds, but as long as you have a few of them alternating their attacks, plus some allies who stay in the fight constantly, it shouldn't be a problem.


----------



## Vorput

::sidles up to thread::

::glances around::

::BUMPS::


----------



## carborundum

I'm so missing the story I started from the beginning again. Awesome how much stuff was foreshadowed back then!

How's it going with the writing/ playing?


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> I'm so missing the story I started from the beginning again. Awesome how much stuff was foreshadowed back then!
> 
> How's it going with the writing/ playing?



If by writing you mean grading and working on my dissertation, then it's going great  As for playing, we hit a, ahem ... climactic moment and are currently taking a break from this campaign and playing a 4e Eberron game for a while.

And I actually started on the next writeup this week, so hopefully I'll be done with it soon.


----------



## Dilandau Kale

By climatic moment do you mean a TPK?


----------



## shilsen

Dilandau Kale said:


> By climatic moment do you mean a TPK?




Not ... exactly


----------



## Dilandau Kale

I'll take that as meaning near TPK or all knocked out and taken prisoner.


----------



## shilsen

Dilandau Kale said:


> I'll take that as meaning near TPK or all knocked out and taken prisoner.




Let's just say - yes 

And here (surprise, surprise) is an update:

* * * * * * * * * *
Some time later, and far, far away…

Honar sits across a table from the Angels, with two men beside him. One of them is heavily muscled and bearded, with the hilt of a large sword protruding above the back of his heavy plate armor. The other, clean shaven and younger, has the twin hilts of matched shortswords extending above his dark leather armor.  

“These are two friends of mine – Mallum,” says Honar, indicating the older man, “And Prine. Mallum’s a member of the Shield and Prine is a scout who sometimes explores the Vast. Both of them are interested in accompanying you to Khesavuthir. I told them they would receive equal shares of what we find there. That’s correct, right?”

“Yes,” says Gareth, adding quickly, “But excluding the gear we lost on our previous visit.”

“Of course,” says Honar, before turning to his friends, “Right, guys?”

“Sure,” says Mallum, and Prine nods, before asking the Angels, “You’re sure this place is Khesavuthir?”

“Yes,” says Nameless. “That’s quite certain.”

“And there’s apparently some especially powerful dragon there?” continues the scout. “Honar told us about it, but I’d rather get the details from you. And anything you can remember about the place.”

The Angels begin to fill the trio of Io’lokari in on Khesavuthir and they listen intently, asking a question or two, until Six mentions that Xagygyrag uses and has knowledge of blood magic.

There’s pin-drop silence for a second and an amusingly similar expression of wariness descends on the three faces before the Angels. Honar says, “Excuse me? Blood magic? You didn’t tell me that this dragon possessed blood magic?”

“We didn’t think it was important,” says Gareth, glaring at Six. The warforged, inwardly amused at the trio’s response, doesn’t respond.

“It _is_ important,” says Mallum, sounding worried.

“Why?” asks Luna. “What’s so special about this blood magic?”

Prine chuckles sardonically. “Ask the dragons. All we know is that they’re hell-bent on nobody using or learning about it. Io’lokar,” he gestures around him, “Was built by the survivors of Io’vakas, that ruin a few miles outside town. They destroyed the entire city and almost everyone in it because some damn yuan-ti in Io’vakas were investigating blood magic.”

“But we’re not trying to use blood magic,” points out Gareth. “We just want to destroy the evil dragon and recover our gear.”

“And whatever stuff we find there,” points out Luna.

The Io’lokari exchange glances and then Honar says politely, “Do you mind giving us a few minutes? I’d like to discuss this with my friends.”

“Of course,” says Nameless and the Angels leave, Gareth frowning deeply, and leave the room. 

As soon as the door closes behind them, the paladin rounds on Six. “What the hell did you tell them about blood magic for?”

“Because they wanted all the information that we had about the dragon and the place. And it’s true,” says the warforged placidly. “Would you have preferred that I lie to them?”

“No,” grumbles Gareth with an ill grace. “I just don’t think that we should have brought the blood magic up.”

Korm, amused (as are the others) by Gareth’s attitude, chuckles. “Not as long as it gets in the way of getting all your things back, right?”

Gareth’s frown deepens, and his mood doesn’t improve as the others continue to tease him. But it significantly worsens when Honar and the others return to say, politely but firmly, that they cannot get involved in anything which even tangentially relates to blood magic – and just as politely but firmly urge the Guardian Angels to stay far away from it too. Honar, seemingly a little embarrassed at the current state of affairs, says that he and his friends would be happy to help with any other endeavor, but not one of this kind.

With Gareth doing even more complaining once they are gone, Six finally says, “I have a suggestion for finding out what we can do – or learn – about this.”

Some time later, the Angels are seated in a comfortable meeting room with Elabenna. Six explains to her in detail about the issue of blood magic at Khesavuthir and, before the collegiate diviner can get truly alarmed, that they have informed the Chamber, who said they would deal with it. “We wish to know what has been done about it and if any of our items were recovered from there,” Six explains. “Would you be willing to use a _sending_ for us and ask Essirise?”

“Certainly,” says Elabenna, and she quickly casts the spell. When she completes it, she says aloud, “Greetings, Essirise. Am with the people from Khorvaire. They wish to know what has been done about Khesavuthir by the Chamber. Were any items recovered?” She recites the reply as she hears it – “Khesavuthir discovered and disposed of by the Conclave. Please do not pursue that matter. Chamber still discussing involvement in Khorvaire. Hope for positive results soon.” 

Six turns to Gareth and says, “Well, Khesavuthir is clearly not an option any more.”

“And neither is recovering everything I lost,” says the paladin through gritted teeth.

“_We_ lost,” points out Nameless dryly, “Though admittedly I lost little equipment and _only_ my life.” Before Gareth can retort he says, “But I’ll be happy to find out where your things are if they’ve been removed from Khesavuthir. I do have a _discern location_ prepared.” He glances at Elabenna. “Do you mind waiting while I cast it?”

“Not at all,” she replies, before adding with a smile, “I’m curious to hear what you discover. The information you have given me is valuable enough, but watching your … discoveries is very interesting too.”

“I know!” says Luna. “That’s why I’m going to be writing an advice column in the newsp…”

“Silence while I cast please,” says Nameless hastily. “I need to be able to concentrate.”

The shifter sticks her tongue out at him but subsides and the alienist focuses on his spell. Ten minutes later, he completes it and says, “Gareth, what item should I focus on?”

“How about my _cloak of displacement_?”

“All right.” Nameless is silent for a few seconds and then says, “It is in the tower of Nymbrixion, in the Light of Siberys, in Argonnessen.” 

“Can we get it from there?” asks Luna, a second before Elabenna says urgently, “That’s the portion of Argonnessen where the dragon army, the Light of Siberys, is based. I strongly recommend _not_ going there!”

Luna sighs and says, “Look – it’s quite simple. It’s our … well, his,” she indicates Gareth, “Stuff and he wants it back. Can’t you contact the dragons about that? Um, tell them we’ll give them a reward.” Luna rubs her nose thoughtfully. “You have to phrase it right and be all diplomatic and sh*t.”

Ignoring the snort of laughter from Korm in the corner, Elabenna nods slowly and says, “I can do that. Not right now, however, since I need to prepare the right spell.”

“Sure,” says Luna. “That’s nice of you. Now tell me something – what is the, er, etiquette when a dragon dies?”

“Pardon?” 

Luna waves her hands and says, “In case we can’t get our stuff back easily, I’m thinking of other stuff we can get. Look at Gareth! He’s so pathetic,” she says, drawing a dirty look from the paladin, “And all demoralized. We can’t work with a demoralized paladin, so we need to get him more stuff. And he has a thing for dragon hide armor. He’s been fixated on it for a while. It’s a little unhealthy, I think, but I don’t judge other people’s fetishes.”

“What?” 

Ignoring Gareth’s exclamation and the fact that Korm is now choking with laughter, Luna bashes on regardless. “So I wanted to know what happens with the skin, and the hoard, of a dead dragon. I just want some plain talk for once. So…?” 

Elabenna waits until certain that Luna is done and then says carefully, “I see. What happens with a dead dragon and its belongings depends on who the individual dragon is, where and how it died, whether it has family, etc. Just like with any person in Io’lokar, actually. But if you want to obtain a dragon’s hoard, or skin, I recommend that you go and slay one of the rogues in the Vast.”

“Rogues?”

“That is what we call the dragons that dwell in the Vast. They very rarely have mates, only sometimes have followers, and often dwell alone. And they constantly fight each other and it is completely acceptable in Argonnessen for a rogue to slay another and take its territory and possessions. And if a non-dragon slays a rogue, so be it.” She hesitates, and then adds, “But I would highly recommend _not_ moving around Argonnessen in dragon hide armor. Or dragon hide of any kind, to be precise.”

Nameless replies, “Thank you for this information and advice. We will consider it carefully. But now we have to take our leave.”  

The Angels depart, only Six staying behind for a short time to talk to Elabenna about the Wayfinders Guild and his plans to bring some of them to Io’lokar. Elabenna is quite interested and excited at the possibility of meeting more travelers from Khorvaire, but she also mentions to Six to be careful about this, since the Masters of the city might not view it as positively as she does.

Once they are back in Nalyna’s home, where they are staying, the Angels discuss their next move. There is consensus, mainly so they can get Gareth to stop complaining, that they should pursue this idea of a dragon-hunt in the Vast. 

“But we need to research this carefully,” says Nameless, “So that we don’t end up facing something like Xagygyrag again.” The other agree and decide to give at least a day and maybe two to research, taking the help of Honar, whom they again contact in this regard. He is quite happy to hear of this new plan and agrees to go along, as do Mallum and Prine. Nameless specifically mentions that he is interested in any dragon whose hoard might contain items which would help them against the aberrations in Khorvaire. “If we are going to do this,” he says, “Let’s make sure that it helps us in the long run.” 

Once Honar departs, Nameless decides to again try out the crystal bowl recovered from the aberrations. After placing the chunk of warpstone near the bowl, the alienist makes mental contact with it. And once again, he sees the misty background, overlaid with a network of dots, representing the armies of Xoriat in Khorvaire, especially in the Shadow Marches. 

This time, Nameless decides to focus on the ziggurat. The mist shifts slightly to place the area of the ziggurat at the center of his vision. Then the alienist concentrates further, sweating with the effort, looking first into the past and then into the future, attempting to work out both where the armies came from and where they are going. Intriguingly, Nameless quickly discovers that the armies did not start from the area of the ziggurat, the closest one emerging from a spot at least fifty miles away, and promptly moving away from it. In fact, though their movement seems somewhat random, Nameless can now see that the armies are slowly but surely spiraling away from the ziggurat’s location, and in the process pushing the inhabitants of the Marches inexorably away from it.

Having noted this, Nameless concentrates further, slowly shifting his gaze to Breland. There, as with the Shadow Marches, he notes both the current presence of the armies and their movements over the next few days. And then shifts to Droaam, Aundair, Thrane and Karrnath. The strain of concentration grows steadily and finally when he comes to Karrnath his control slips and the vision granted by the bowl gradually fades away. But not before Nameless has gained a tremendous amount of knowledge about the locations and plans of the aberration forces. 

The alienist conveys what he has learned to the others, while making detailed notes of his discoveries. “It looks like there are no major attacks for the next three days at least, which gives us – and Khorvaire – a little time,” he says, before warning, “Though we should be prepared for the possibility that this information is flawed or compromised. The aberrations certainly know that we have this bowl, so whether they’re taking advantage of that in some way to feed me false information … well, I don’t yet know.”

“True,” says Six, “But this is still valuable, as long as those you give this to are careful with it. And trust us, which isn’t always the case.”

“Yes. Which is why I will take it to Jaela Daran tomorrow. If they don’t trust the Keeper of the Flame, they won’t trust anyone.” He smiles grimly. “And if we can help out with eliminating an army or two in Thrane…”

* * * * *
The next evening, the Angels are back in Nalyna’s house.

“I’m tired,” yawns Luna. “Why’d we leave this so late in the day?”

“Don’t look at me,” says Korm, jerking a finger at Gareth. “Someone here wanted to show off by taking out an aberration army for the Keeper.”

“I was _not_ showing off!” says Gareth. “We were in Thrane and Nameless knew where they were, so it made perfect sense.”

“Yes,” agrees Six. “And finding the army exactly where the bowl showed Nameless that it would be helped confirm what he has discovered.” The warforged pauses thoughtfully. “Though it might have been showing off when you cut off the leader’s head and shouted, ‘I have the power!’”

Nameless, who had gone to the door, returns with Honar. The warrior greets the group and places a large parchment on the table. As he unfurls it, he says, “I found some likely targets for our dragon-hunting expedition.”

“Oh good!” says Gareth, rubbing his hands. “This should be fun!”


----------



## Dilandau Kale

Nice little between action chapter

Ps I suppose it would be a bit much asking for a rough outline of what happened?


----------



## shilsen

Dilandau Kale said:


> Nice little between action chapter




Thanks.



> Ps I suppose it would be a bit much asking for a rough outline of what happened?




I'd prefer to just reveal it when we get to that part of the story. 6 more sessions to go.


----------



## carborundum

I'm still not getting enworld subscription updates, so this was a nice surprise!
It's great to read more of your SH, shil! Like coming home 

Can't wait to read more, good luck with your dissertation! (What's the title, if it's not too secret?)


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> I'm still not getting enworld subscription updates, so this was a nice surprise!




Same here. I wonder what's going on with the updates thing.



> It's great to read more of your SH, shil! Like coming home






I'm glad you're still enjoying it.



> Can't wait to read more, good luck with your dissertation! (What's the title, if it's not too secret?)




"Metatheatricality on the Renaissance Stage." I'm a drama guy, with emphasis on the Renaissance and esp. Shakespeare, but I dislike over-specialization so I tend to do things in other areas too (for example, I'll be presenting a paper on teaching the Bible in translation later in the year).


----------



## shilsen

And here's a short update, since I figure more regular (even if shorter) updates would be a good thing:

* * * * *
Honar explains that he has obtained information about three potential targets for the Angels’ dragon-hunting expedition into the Vast.

The first is Kallionaxis, a young adult bronze dragon. She is known to be an exceptionally powerful spellcaster, much more powerful than many significantly older dragons. Kallionaxis has carved out a small realm in the Vast but dwells alone, having shown no signs of seeking either a mate or servitors. Her interest seems to be exclusively in unusual and powerful magic items, and she is known to trade away any gold or gems she gains to older dragons if she can obtain magical items in return, and has slain a few of them too.

The second is Aarazthoorus, an adult blue dragon. He is known to be an especially strong physical combatant but not very smart. Aarazthoorus gained a realm by killing a young adult silver dragon and taking her territory. He is currently served by a tribe of goblinoids who had the misfortune to work for the silver dragon he killed.

The third and last is not one dragon but three, known only as the siblings. These are a trio of juvenile gold dragons who have created a territory together. They are known to be an exceptionally vicious bunch, and have a fascination for gems and jewels. Not that much is known about them, since they are fairly new to the area. 

After listing and describing the options, Honar suggests going after Kallionaxis. “Partly,” he explains, “Because there’s much less of a likelihood that we’d have to deal with others beside the dragon, and partly because it’s the most likely one to have items and equipment that you could use.” Honar then addresses Nameless. “One of the dragons Kalli slew was known to be a specialist in studying the planes, especially the more esoteric ones, and it’s possible that there is related lore or magic in Kalli’s hoard from his. Aarazthoorus is likely to be an easier fight, but will likely provide less useful treasure, as is true of the siblings.”

The Angels have a quick discussion and reach a consensus that they should go after Kallionaxis, Gareth’s assertion that they follow all three options one by one being quickly voted down. Once that decision is made, they settle down to try and learn a little more about their new quarry via magical means.

Gareth begins by using a _divination_ about how they can best battle Kallionaxis. The answer he receives is: “Fear not the breath of Kallionaxis nor her claws and fangs, but beware her spells. Fight her in the open skies or on the ground, but keep her from her lair, where she can grow most puissant with time.”

“Useful,” says Nameless, “But let’s see if we can learn some more.” The alienist casts a much more powerful spell, a _vision_ that he had prepared for this very purpose. He feels a wave of fatigue as the spell momentarily weakens him, but he does receive a clear answer:

“The loredrake lairs in the earth and beneath the waters, but she climbs the mountain and rides the air. She commands lightning and thunder, fire and ice, the burning of acid and the touch of death, but greater than them is her greed and her fear. She watches the skies and the ground, fearing both the Ring of Siberys above and the Dragon Below, fearing apocalypse from beyond the spaces of Eberron and from within its bowels.”

When he relates what he learned, Honar mentions that ‘loredrake’ is a term used in Argonnessen about some dragons who take on sovereign archetypes, where they attempt to emulate one among the dragon sovereigns, who have analogies to the deities of Khorvaire. Loredrakes are dragons who seek knowledge, especially of magic, and they display greater spellcasting proficiency at the expense of physical strength. Such dragons also usually focus on arcane magic at the expense of clerical spells. 
“Any dragon which cannot cast _heal_ on itself,” growls Luna, “Is a dragon I’m much happier to fight. Nameless, can you come up with anything else on it?”

“Yes,” says the alienist, before he casts another spell. This time he chooses to _contact another plane_, drawing upon the knowledge of Cyaëgha but not directly, which is safer for Nameless but also increases the chances of incorrect information. 

Once he is in mental contact, the alienist says, his eyes closed, “I can ask eight questions before the spell will end. I shall begin now and you may make suggestions as you wish.” With that said, he begins to recite his questions aloud and, after a pause, the answers he receives.

*“What is the highest valence of spell that Kallionaxis can cast?” 

“Answer: Dweomers of the eighth power”

“Are her individual spells cast at a power greater, lesser or equal to mine when I manifest my aspect?”

“Answer: Greater”*

“Crap!” says Korm. “That’s not good! Ask if she’s more powerful than Luna or me when we use our _bead of karma_.

*“Are her individual spells cast at a power greater, lesser or equal to Korm’s when he uses his bead of karma?” 

“Answer: Greater”*

“That’s really not good,” agrees Gareth worriedly. “How about asking if she has any of those defensive spells Xagygyrag had? Because then we’ll have a really hard time hitting her.”

Nameless says nothing for a moment, the sound of the whippoorwills which only he can – and does incessantly – hear bothering him for a moment. But then he continues.

*“Can she cast the spell Xagygyrag used to make himself difficult to hit?”

“ Answer: Unknown.”

“Can she use the spell to change the energy type of her breath weapon?”

 “Answer: Unknown.”*

“That’s not helping!” says Luna, but Nameless ignores her, though his frown deepens slightly.

*“Can she make her spells unusually difficult to dispel?”

“Answer: No.”*

“That’s useful to know,” says Korm. “How about asking about her offensive ability?”

*“What is her favorite attack spell?”

“Answer: Reciprocal Gyre”

“Can she maximize a Reciprocal Gyre?”

“Answer: Yes.”*

Nameless opens his eyes as the spell ends, looking a little weary. “This will be very dangerous. I think we will definitely need your aid and that of your friends, Honar.”

The Io’lokari warrior nods. “As I said, I shall be happy to come along. And I think Mallum and Prine will too.”

* * * * *
Honar turns out to be wrong, since Mallum is both busy and not that interested in dragon-hunting, so it is only Prine who accompanies Honar and the Guardian Angels when they _greater teleport_ out of the city the next day. 

The group arrives near Kallionaxis’ realm, at the base of a tall spire of rock which is supposed to be a safe location since it is not within any dragon’s territory, as far as the Io’lokari know. After quickly ascertaining that there are no hostiles awaiting them, the group conjures up a number of _phantom stag_s and _steed_s. Then they ride towards Kallionaxis’ lair, fully expecting to be attacked along the way.

The bronze dragon’s territory is about fifty miles across, an expanse of rocky lowlands covered in scrub forest, with a few more deeply forested sections dotting the area at large intervals. The center of the area (and supposed location of her lair) is quite clear – a small range of large hills or low mountains, which rise well above the area around them.

The intruders keep their magical mounts flying about thirty feet above the ground as the landscape races by below them, staying in a loosely spread out formation. The plan is to attract the attention of the dragon, who is presumably watching over her realm from either the sky above or a hidden vantage point, and draw her to attack them.

And so they do. As the group nears the range of hills, Kallionaxis rises over the low rise a hundred feet ahead of them. The dragon is a sleek and beautiful creature, perhaps twenty-five feet from nose to tail, bronze scales gleaming in the sunlight as she hovers before them. A corona of flame outlines her body.

Not that anyone stops to appreciate her beauty. Nameless, reacting instantly, swiftly casts a spell to enable him to overcome her innate magic resistance and follows with an _analyze dweomer_. His eyes flash with magical acuity, instantly identifying the dozen spells protecting Kallionaxis. Though he cannot identify them yet, he also notes the multiple magical items she bears, from dragon-sized rings on two of her claws to an over-sized coronet to a large diamond embedded in her chest to a pair of ioun stones which circle her head.

Nameless instantly relays what he learns over the _telepathic link_ he set up previously with his allies, but unfortunately, only Prine – hurriedly activating a ring and turning invisible – is quick enough to react before the dragon casts a spell.

_Reciprocal gyre?_ thinks Nameless hopefully, most of the group having placed the same spell in their _ring_s _of counterspells_ in preparation.

But the dragon, seeing multiple enemies with no end of magical items and spells on them, takes a more inclusive – and painful – approach. She gestures with a claw and speaks, bringing down a _horrid wilting_ on her enemies.


----------



## carborundum

Whooo - game on!

Thanks Shil! I'm trying not to peek too often and control my habit that way.  At least, until the mail-alerts work again, that is.

Weird how easy one gets lazy, eh?


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## Dilandau Kale

Hey again this may sound a bit odd but would it be possible to tell us what each of the guardian angels look like? how they dress etc? trying to get into my head how they each look


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Whooo - game on!
> 
> Thanks Shil! I'm trying not to peek too often and control my habit that way.  At least, until the mail-alerts work again, that is.
> 
> Weird how easy one gets lazy, eh?




Yeah, the lack of the mail-alerts is messing up my ability to keep up with the threads I like too, esp. since I'm not on ENWorld that often any more. Hopefully I'll have another update sometime this week. 



Dilandau Kale said:


> Hey again this may sound a bit odd but would it be possible to tell us what each of the guardian angels look like? how they dress etc? trying to get into my head how they each look




Good question(s). I've got some ideas on the subject myself, but I thought I'd get you the info from the players themselves so I sent them your query, asking them to either send me the info or post it here themselves. So I'll pop something up when I have a couple of responses.


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## Furby076

With regards to how Gareth looks.  Well, having a high charisma, being in a family that believes in honor, duty, loyalty, and courtly ways he follows a fairly stereo-typical look for a paladin.

6'4"
Muscular build/cut
Brown hair that goes down to the shoulder
Blue eyes
Chiseled features
Dresses in formal clothing, but primarily in very well polished full plate armor with a cloak that has his family crest
Gareth stands up straight and acts as proper as possible


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## Rackhir

Dilandau Kale said:


> Hey again this may sound a bit odd but would it be possible to tell us what each of the guardian angels look like? how they dress etc? trying to get into my head how they each look




To be honest it was never something I gave much thought to. But here's a compilation of some of the the aspects that have come up in the past with a degree of elaboration.

Nameless typically uses a hat of disguise to appear extremely nondescript and forgettable. Unless someone looks into his eyes, as no magic can disguise the insanity lurking within.

Without the hat of disguise or to those capable of _True Seeing_, his eyes glow with the characteristic blue glow of a permanent _Arcane Sight_. As a result of his Transcendence, his left arm is now a tentacle of an indefinable purple color that normal minds can never quite nail down the exact color of or that appears exactly the same purple twice. Of course random parts of his anatomy also tend to behave in ways that would disturb normal witnesses.

His forehead used to bear the mark of Cyäegha, a stylized eyeball with wavy tentacles for eyelashes. Though only those most versed in the lore of Xoriat would know it's meaning. Cyäegha is one of The Great Old Ones, Nameless's patron and the entity to which Kha'tvan'ga will deliver him when his life span has elapsed.

Since achieving Transcendence (AKA hitting lv 10 in Alienist), the mark has mutated into an Abberant Dragonmark that allows him to assume an Aspect of Cyäegha and when doing so he assumes many of the physical characteristics of his patron. The tentacles now cover his entire forehead, Even when not manifesting the aspect and the eye is an actual eye on a stalk. Some of the Aspect is visible to those with True Seeing, even when he is not manifesting the Aspect.



> _There is a faint popping sound and then the skin splits in two-inch long sections all over his body. Dozens of eyes push themselves out of the splits, and a couple of seconds later, Nameless’ face and arms – and, beneath his clothing, the rest of his body – is covered with the orbs, each rolling back and forth as it peers in a different direction. Each eye is a facsimile of the one on his forehead._




His skin tends to have a greenish tinge.

He wears no set style or color of clothing. Instead, picking them to satisfy some arcane and obscure set of criteria (nobody has ever stayed sane through one of his explanations) which might sometime result in fashion disasters or fashion trends, if any ever saw them. Few clothes tend to survive very long in his line of work anyway.

Like all of the Angels, he is covered with a fine network of scars and strange   modifications as a result of Mordain Fleshweaver's experimentations and augmentations.


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## Rackhir

AviLazar said:


> Gareth stands up straight and acts as proper as possible




You forgot to add "greedy"


----------



## Dilandau Kale

Thanks these have been some great replies. Anything else on the rest of the group?


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## Rackhir

Dilandau Kale said:


> Thanks these have been some great replies. Anything else on the rest of the group?




Well Six should look something like a male version of the android in this. Since his name is a elaborate reference to it (Mythril 6 of 6 - AKA M-66).

Luna is typically an either an ENORMOUS bear or a tendriculous. Both bloated compared to regular creatures. One of Mordain's "improvements" makes her shape shifted forms a size class larger and extremely fat (you see one of her symbiotes was making Luna's shifter/real form fat and this was... unacceptable, so it got changed to making her druid animal forms "fat"). This actually led to one of the few instances where anyone was able to change her player's mind about something. For some reason she had fixated on getting a flying carpet (which nobody else was interested in for many reasons) and we tried using reason and logic (which failed of course). 

Until frustrated I pointed out "Weight capacity of the largest carpet 800 lb. Weight of avg Dire Bear (then her favorite form) *8,000 lb*! Luna >> heavier than the avg Dire Bear. DO THE MATH! 
Oh..."

Recently she has started using the 1,000 faces ability and a necklace she found in the mournlands (still waiting on the blowback from that) to "enhance" her appearance (to what ever strikes her) as she boffs what ever noble has taken her fancy this week.

Korm. Well I always pictured him as something like an orcish version of the nazi who was punching out Indy and ate a propeller in the original film. Korm wears a similar amount of clothing (he depends on magic for his AC) and and a similar love of fighting. His only other real distinguishing characteristic is his big meteoric steel sword. Korm is really pretty much more of a walking mass of rules abuses, than an actual character. Shil took one look at the original concept and said "Uh. No." and nerfed a bunch of stuff since he would have been dishing out more damage than the rest of the group combined.

Here's the description from when he was first introduced.



> This one is a large and heavily muscled half-orc, with a scarred and remarkably ugly visage. He wears no armor and has on a long hooded robe, worn over clothing with tribal markings on it. He also carries an unusual-looking sword strapped to his back.


----------



## ajanders

I don't think the Angels have learned.
I would think the first two questions would be
"Does the dragon know we are hunting her?"

and

"Has Shil customized this dragon?"
"Answer: Yes. So you're all going to die."


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## Rackhir

ajanders said:


> I don't think the Angels have learned.
> I would think the first two questions would be
> "Does the dragon know we are hunting her?"
> 
> and
> 
> "Has Shil customized this dragon?"
> "Answer: Yes. So you're all going to die."




This dragon was indeed very, very nasty, but it was no Xagy. If it had been that bad he would probably have had an outright revolt on his hands. 

Xagy we were willing suck it up with because -

A) It was basically our own dammed fault - Shil did "underplay" his power to a certain extent ("It's only a CR 20"), but we had several chances to get out of there and came back none the less.

B) We did in fact get the information we needed from it. So even though it was a tactical defeat it was at least in a sense a strategic victory.

C) It really didn't cost us all that much. Nameless didn't loose any of his items. Gareth lost some nice armor and other minor things, but kept the Endless Blade and all of his enhancements from Mordain, which substitute for many of the items characters normally would have had. We were both a level down and delayed in catching up with the other characters, but that was mostly an irritation and not a game breaker.

Also, when we were discussing what to do before this, we made it very clear that we did NOT want to go up against another Xagy. However, we did in fact swear off tacking any other dragons we didn't have to fight after this.


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## shilsen

ajanders said:


> I don't think the Angels have learned.
> I would think the first two questions would be
> "Does the dragon know we are hunting her?"
> 
> and
> 
> "Has Shil customized this dragon?"
> "Answer: Yes. So you're all going to die."



Not quite that bad, as Rackhir noted. And this is how the Angels deal with a CR 18 dragon that has a caster level of 23...

* * * * * * * * * *
Kallionaxis’ _horrid wilting_ strikes the entire group, painfully draining the water from their bodies, wounding Nameless and Prine especially badly. Even worse affected are the _phantom steed_s some among them ride, none of which are strong enough to survive the attack. Korm and Nameless remain aloft as their magical mounts pop out of existence, one due to his magic and the other on the cloaker-like wings protruding from his back. Luna and Six, however, drop painfully to the ground thirty feet below. 

_Bad start_. “I need healing,” Nameless gasps, knowing another attack like the first will kill him despite all his protections. 

“Sure,” says Korm urgently, flying closer. “Just buy us a few seconds!” 

“Done!” Nameless casts and a thick cloud of _solid fog_ envelops the hovering dragon, drawing a now-muffled snarl of frustration from it. “That gives us a few seconds,” he says quickly. “Heal up and hit her hard when she emerges. No area effects, however – she has a _ring of evasion_.”

“Nice work,” says Korm, casting a _heal_ to close the alienist’s wounds. The Gatekeeper looks around as his allies seek to quickly regroup. “Time to team up on it as it appears. Gareth – give me a ride?”

“Sure,” says Gareth having cast a healing spell and commanded the Endless Blade to transform into a lance. His stag flies forward and he grabs Korm, swinging the Gatekeeper up behind him.

Luna, having transformed into a tendriculos, moves towards Six, who is also engaged in healing himself. Then she looks up and waves a tentacle. “Look out!”

There is a faint popping sound as Kallionaxis reappears, about a hundred feet above the group, fangs gaping and claws ready to cast another spell. But this time her foes are ready, and before she can recover quickly enough from the teleportation to cast, they are on her. 

Gareth and Honar charge her on their steeds. To his inordinate surprise, the paladin’s lance scrapes off her magically-enhanced scales, but it creates an important distraction. Honar, much better used to both aerial combat and fighting on a mount, strikes Kallionaxis’ open flank with tremendous force, ignoring the _fire shield_ which burns him as he plunges his lance deep into her side. As the surprised dragon screams in agony, something strange appears above her, tentacles smashing and tearing. Though Khat’van’ga hits only once, it helps bracket her further between her enemies. A green beam from Nameless barely misses her, only the _displacement_ on her sending the _dimensional anchor_ off-target.

Suddenly surrounded and wounded, Kallionaxis roars in anger and pain, and then brings down another _horrid wilting_ on those around her. While Gareth, Korm, Honar and the Horror are all hardy enough to resist the second attack, this time the two _phantom stag_s succumb, disappearing beneath their riders. 

Gareth groans as he drops out of the air to hit with tremendous force on the rocky ground below. Rolling over, the paladin growls angrily, “Let’s see if you can cast now!” and casts a _silence_. Unfortunately, in the heat of battle he focuses the spell on the dragon rather than in her general area, and a second later, everything goes silent around him. As he looks around, surprised, Nameless’ voice rasps in his mind – _“Fool! She has a _spell turning_ up!”_

“Not for long,” replies Korm, also having heard the mental message. He strikes her with a _greater dispel_, which bounces off the _spell turning_ and back to him, only for his magical ring to counter it. 

_“Good work,”_ transmits Nameless, who has been growing quickly frustrated with the group’s inability to seriously affect the dragon. _“Now everyone hit her and stop her from getting away!”_ 

“On it!” replies Luna and disappears. An instant later she reappears, right above Kallionaxis. 

As the startled dragon looks up, Luna drops like a stone. A gigantic, green stone with a huge fanged mouth, which attempts to wrap huge tentacles around Kallionaxis. The dragon reflexively bites and scratches like an enormous, scaled cat, and somehow fights off the attempt, causing Luna to crash to the ground below.

But doing so distracts Kallionaxis, and Khat’van’ga again assaults her, causing little damage but keeping her busy. And spells from the Angels have greater effect, a _reciprocal gyre_ from Nameless causing her to convulse in pain as her magic wards are turned back against their owner, moments before Korm’s spell _dispel_s nearly half a dozen of them. Meanwhile Honar and Prine, both having quaffed potions of flight, rise towards it.

Deciding that she needs to regroup but not yet ready to flee, Kallionaxis rolls over in mid-air and darts away, swiftly building speed. She knows that the enemies cannot keep up with her natural flight ability, and only a few seconds would put her safely out of harm’s way, able to cast spells without being threatened in melee.

_Damn!_ Nameless thinks, realizing that if Kallionaxis gets away they would be at a stalemate. _We won’t be able to catch or stop her, and if she tries to hit us again, we can leave, but without having achieved anything._ Even with many of her protections gone, the dragon is too well protected against most of his available spells. So Nameless takes one last gamble and casts a _feeblemind_. 

Normally, a wizard would have no chance at affecting Kallionaxis’ will, even with the spell’s natural affinity for affecting arcane casters like the dragon. But Nameless is no ordinary mage, nor is the dragon’s intellect something that can amaze him after having encountered and survived contact with the daelkyr Antaratma and the Great Old One, Cyäegha. And most importantly, Korm’s spell has removed Kallionaxis’ _spell turning_, which would otherwise have protected her. The dragon shudders in mid-air and half-turns to look back, eyes wide with confusion and fear as Nameless’ spell crushes her intellect*, leaving her with the approximate mental capacity of a lizard.

A lizard with multiple magical protections, admittedly, which is why she is untouched by the _fireball_ which follows an instant later. Even so, Kallionaxis is no longer smart enough to understand what just happened or to react intelligently, so she simply screams in fear and turns to flee at her fullest speed.

“Damn!” says Gareth, seeing the dragon accelerate away, “We’ll never catch her!”

Filled with exultation at the unexpected success of his spell, Nameless gives the paladin a pitying glance. “I’m not about to let her leave so easily. Luna, Korm – come with me!” As tendriculos and Gatekeeper hurry to him, the alienist _dimension door_s away with them, appearing beneath the fleeing dragon. 

Luna promptly begins to cast a summoning spell, while Korm settles for a more direct way of bringing their quarry down, casting a spell** which brings a rain of boulders down on her. 

Kallionaxis whimpers in fear as she twists and turns, with heavy stones bouncing painfully off her body and wings as she somehow stays in the air. And then she actually cries aloud as the huge air elemental summoned by Luna attempts to envelop her as a whirlwind. For a moment, the Angels think she is caught, but then she breaks free and darts away. 

Nameless sighs. “This is becoming aggravating.” He calculates for a couple of seconds, noting the dragon’s speed and angle of movement as she races away, and then says, “Luna – we’ll try the dropping thing again.” He casts another _dimension door_, this time transporting the trio ahead of and above the dragon. 

The alienist’s judgement is perfect, and before Kallionaxis can change direction, Luna lands directly on her back, driving her down to the rocky ground in a welter of broken bones and mangled muscles. The dragon, critically wounded, turns on the tendriculos. She roars weakly, breathing a blast of electricity which dissipates uselessly against the protective spell Luna had cast before entering the dragon’s territory. With an anguished scream, Kallionaxis bites and claws at the tendriculos as she tries to break free, an attempt which is as pathetic as it is futile. Luna’s bulk does not even move, and one of her giant tentacles wrap around Kallionaxis’ throat. She inexorably bends the dragon’s head backwards, so that Kallionaxis has a last, perfect view of Korm as he descends upon her blade-first.


* She would have made the save, but a little (overly) creative use of swashbuckling cards made her fail it. I wouldn’t normally have allowed it, but the PCs had done a good job surviving and beating her off, plus I didn’t want to have a second, probably boring, fight with a _feeblemind_ed dragon in her lair, so I allowed them to pull it off.

** Bombardment, from Spell Compendium.


----------



## Dilandau Kale

Rackhir said:


> Well Six should look something like a male version of the android in this. Since his name is a elaborate reference to it (Mythril 6 of 6 - AKA M-66).
> 
> Luna is typically an either an ENORMOUS bear or a tendriculous. Both bloated compared to regular creatures. One of Mordain's "improvements" makes her shape shifted forms a size class larger and extremely fat (you see one of her symbiotes was making Luna's shifter/real form fat and this was... unacceptable, so it got changed to making her druid animal forms "fat"). This actually led to one of the few instances where anyone was able to change her player's mind about something. For some reason she had fixated on getting a flying carpet (which nobody else was interested in for many reasons) and we tried using reason and logic (which failed of course).
> 
> Until frustrated I pointed out "Weight capacity of the largest carpet 800 lb. Weight of avg Dire Bear (then her favorite form) *8,000 lb*! Luna >> heavier than the avg Dire Bear. DO THE MATH!
> Oh..."
> 
> Recently she has started using the 1,000 faces ability and a necklace she found in the mournlands (still waiting on the blowback from that) to "enhance" her appearance (to what ever strikes her) as she boffs what ever noble has taken her fancy this week.
> 
> Korm. Well I always pictured him as something like an orcish version of the nazi who was punching out Indy and ate a propeller in the original film. Korm wears a similar amount of clothing (he depends on magic for his AC) and and a similar love of fighting. His only other real distinguishing characteristic is his big meteoric steel sword. Korm is really pretty much more of a walking mass of rules abuses, than an actual character. Shil took one look at the original concept and said "Uh. No." and nerfed a bunch of stuff since he would have been dishing out more damage than the rest of the group combined.
> 
> Here's the description from when he was first introduced.




Thanks for all the info but I'm still not clear on how Luna looks in her shifter form, how she dresses ect (Admittedly she doesn't seem to spend much combat time in it.)

Oh and great update way to show the dragon.


----------



## Atlatl Jones

Rackhir said:


> Korm. Well I always pictured him as something like an orcish version of the nazi who was punching out Indy and ate a propeller in the original film.



That's pretty close, actually.

Here's the picture that was one of the inspirations for Korm.  







That's basically him, but with the following big sword, made of meteoric iron, instead of the staff.






He's about as unkempt as that picture, if slightly less hairy.  At any given time he's probably eating some sort of fast food, covered in mind-blastingly-spicy orcish sauce.  (One of his ambitions is to retire and open a chain of orcish restaurants, specializing in heavily spiced stewed meats full of cream, ground nuts, and magical Fire Seeds.  Naturally the name of the chain will be Korma Khan.)



> Korm is really pretty much more of a walking mass of rules abuses, than an actual character.



Hey!  He's an actual character _and_ a walking mass of rules abuses.  



> Shil took one look at the original concept and said "Uh. No." and nerfed a bunch of stuff since he would have been dishing out more damage than the rest of the group combined.



A darkwood sword plus the Spikes spell is pretty ridiculous, indeed.


----------



## shilsen

Atlatl Jones said:


> He's about as unkempt as that picture, if slightly less hairy.  At any given time he's probably eating some sort of fast food, covered in mind-blastingly-spicy orcish sauce.  (One of his ambitions is to retire and open a chain of orcish restaurants, specializing in heavily spiced stewed meats full of cream, ground nuts, and magical Fire Seeds.  Naturally the name of the chain will be *Korma Khan*.)




Oh lord, that's horrible! Please tell me the character name wasn't chosen just so you could make that pun. Especially since that would mean you've been letting it marinate for a couple of years!



> Hey!  He's an actual character _and_ a walking mass of rules abuses.






Good clarifier. In his current form, Korm isn't really much more abusive than any of the characters, or at least any of the characters besides Six, who in many ways gets the short end of the stick power-wise (partly because he's the only non-caster). I think Korm's personality and characterization, though fairly evident, has suffered a bit (both in the game and in my writeups) because you missed a lot of sessions, so I ended up running him, which means he doesn't feature as much unless it's in combat.



> A darkwood sword plus the Spikes spell is pretty ridiculous, indeed.




Yup. And I think there were a couple of other things in the original concept which synergized with that to make it even more effective, but I've blanked them out of my memory for sanity's sake.


----------



## Furby076

Dilandau Kale said:


> Thanks for all the info but I'm still not clear on how Luna looks in her shifter form, how she dresses ect (Admittedly she doesn't seem to spend much combat time in it.)
> 
> Oh and great update way to show the dragon.




We are trying to save your mind from the horrors of Luna.  She makes goatse look hot 

In shifter form (remember slightly hairy) the player views Luna as svelt and something that all men want.  Unfortunately she is always in fatty animal form so only gnomes find her hot (shil has a sick mind and I swear is into dwarf porn)


----------



## Vorput

I'm saddened they killed the dragon.  A feedbleminded wyrm would make a great pet!  

A little training and you're good to go.


----------



## Rackhir

Vorput said:


> I'm saddened they killed the dragon.  A feedbleminded wyrm would make a great pet!
> 
> A little training and you're good to go.




We actually were planning on keeping the feebleminded Mind Flayer, Nameless zapped in the mournland, but it didn't work out.

Besides if we kept the dragon, then Luna would have been endlessly dragging home ANYTHING Nameless feebleminded (Daelkyr, politicians, her dates...)


----------



## shilsen

I'm off to India for the summer in less than 24 hrs, so there'll definitely be no updates for a few weeks.


----------



## carborundum

I'll just have to keep rereading the story hour then 
Have fun in the land of delicious curry!


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> I'll just have to keep rereading the story hour then
> Have fun in the land of delicious curry!



Thanks. I'm having a good time here and stuffing myself. One of the biggest advantages to being Indian is the sheer volume of great cuisine, even for someone like me (can't eat spicy food and generally avoid vegetables).

And I'm already working on the next update.


----------



## shilsen

Once Kallionaxis is dead, Prine skins the dragon with the aid of Korm and Six, while attempting to ignore Gareth’s excited suggestions and discussion of what parts of the skin can be turned into which form of armor. When that is accomplished, the group proceeds to search for her lair. 

It takes over an hour and a combination of magical and physical searching for them to find it, almost exactly at the center of the dragon’s realm, buried under the ground near the large lake which sits beside the range of small hills. The lair, as far as the adventurers can make out, lies under the surface of the water, so they make preparations and enter.

Beneath the murky waters swim a number of large, misshapen creatures, resembling huge turtles with more openings in their shells than they have limbs. The tojanidas, which Nameless recognizes as not native to Eberron, make a bee-line for the intruders, charging in with jaws agape. There is a quick flurry of activity and the muted explosion of a spell underwater. And then the surviving tojanida flee just as quickly as they came, trailing streamers of green blood and leaving behind the corpses of three of their kind.

Continuing onwards, the adventurers find the underwater tunnel leading up to Kallionaxis’ lair and proceed along it. There is a minor interruption as an unnoticed trap causes part of the tunnel to collapse in on them, but it is quickly cleared and they head onwards. Eventually, they emerge where the tunnel ends in a large pool at the center of a large chamber lit by _continual flame_ torches. 

As the adventurers emerge, a _blade barrier_ appears amongst them, as does its source – a hitherto invisible woman with the tail of a huge snake and weapons in each of its six arms. The marilith, bound by Kallionaxis to guard the lair’s entrance just as the tojanida were in the lake, has one moment of glee as the adventurers scatter. Five seconds later, its charred, bloodied and headless body slowly fades out of existence. “Good riddance,” says Gareth, shaking blood off the Endless Blade.

As the others move through Kallionaxis’ lair, they find it to be fairly sparse, consisting only of a few chambers, most of which seem to have seen little use. Each of them is lit by _continual light_ stones and a couple have reams of writing on the walls about the various planes and the Prophecy. Minor magical items and auras dot the place, the most powerful of them coming from a spherical stone embedded in the wall of the largest chamber, which seems to have been used as a bedroom. It is (as Nameless later learns) a draconic _heal_ing stone, but unfortunately one that is built into the lair and deactivates if removed.

Not that the alienist stops to identify it now, since his attention and that of the others is on the large bored-looking humanoid sitting near the stone, who rises from his cross-legged posture as the group enters. His bronze skin and long hair, which flows and eddies behind him as if in an invisible breeze, identify him to Nameless, who quickly says, “He’s a genie,” while readying a spell in case the outsider attacks.

The genie, however, simply smiles broadly and bows. “Ah – visitors! I am Manipadmehum Acharya bin Daoud bin Suleiman, Emir of Flame, Master of the Wind, Caliph of …”

“Do we have to fight you, Manipa … um, whatever your name is?” asks Luna quickly, cutting off the introduction.

The genie quirks an eyebrow at the question and then says, its tone still friendly, “Call me Manny. And not necessarily, though I have been asked to guard the treasures contained here.”

“What treasures?” asks Gareth, just as Nameless says, “I hope you were paid in advance.” 

The genie looks back and forth between the two, smiling, before it replies. “I wasn’t paid, unfortunately, due to the manner of my summoning. And I don’t actually know what treasures are here. I was simply compacted to protect them from anyone who tried to take them.”

“Is there any limit to this promise?” asks Six.

“Yes. Twenty days. Until then, I must protect the treasures and slay any who seek them.” Manny frowns slightly as some of the adventurers tense. “I do not wish to fight you, of course, but as long as Kallionaxis is alive…”

He pauses as Korm begins to laugh, and looks on quizzically as the Gatekeeper explains, “In that case, you’re good. Kallionaxis is dead.”

“Really? Can you prove it?”

Gareth lowers one of the group’s _bag_s _of holding_ to the ground, reaches in and – with some effort – pulls out what is very recognizably the head of a bronze dragon.

“Hah!” Manny laughs loudly, placing a hand on his large belly. “That changes things.” He drops back into a sitting pose, comfortably folding his legs, and says, “Let’s talk.”

Over the next few minutes, the genie explains that he is from the plane of Syrania and was summoned here by Kallionaxis. Manny is quite friendly and evidently pleased that the dragon is dead, saying that she was paranoid and a bit of a bore. He also explains that Kallionaxis’ treasure is contained in a hidden compartment, which he happily points out to the adventurers, and says that he was summoned by a magical rod that is contained therein.

“May we summon you later using it?” asks Nameless. “We have a home which we are often away from, that could use a powerful guardian. And I believe you would find it much more pleasant there than this place. The city where it is located is within a manifest zone linked to Syriana.”

The genie studies him silently for a moment and then says slowly, “Y-es. But I would prefer it if you did not attempt to compel me to your service. I can be much more … helpful if I come to an agreement with you of my free will.”

“Of course,” says the alienist, before Gareth interrupts, “Before we enter into any agreements, I’d like to know that you are not evil, and something of your capabilities. We have many enemies and guarding our home is a dangerous task. Would you mind if I used a _detect evil_ on you and maybe tested your combat ability?”

Manny shakes his head. “Not at all.” Then he grins and taps the handle of the huge scimitar strapped to his back. “And it will be a pleasure to beat you over the head.”

Once Gareth has ascertained that the genie is not evil, the two of them square off for a quick exchange of blows. Gareth quickly discovers that the genie is slightly less proficient a swordsman than himself, but has greater natural strength. When the brief bout is over, Manipadmehum Acharya bin Daoud bin Suleiman takes his leave of the group, thanks them for ending his agreement with Kallionaxis, and disappears.

The adventurers then move to and open the hidden compartment, to reveal a treasure trove of nearly two dozen magical items, many of them very costly and powerful. A number are designed for being worn by a creature of human size and shape and have been set aside into a single set, so they were presumably worn by Kallionaxis if she ever took on a humanoid form. The items in the compartment are quite varied, ranging from a magical lyre to a horn which produces magical fruit to a shirt made of demonskin stitched together (which Korm promptly dons, much to Gareth’s irritation). 

But by far the most powerful items are a pair, which lie together in a strongbox at the back of the compartment. One is the rod mentioned by the genie, which Nameless identifies as able to cast a single _planar binding_ spell – lesser, regular or greater – once a month and a single _planar ally_ spell – also lesser regular or greater – once a week. Even more importantly, no components of any kind are used up in the casting. The other item resembles an _amulet of the planes_, but is larger and more ornate. It can be used twice per day, and besides the ability to transport its users to another plane it protects everyone doing so with a powerful abjuration that lets them _avoid planar effects_ for a day.

Nameless carefully puts the two items away, saying, “These should come in very useful for the future.”

“Good,” says Luna, “Can we go now? I’m getting bored!”

Nameless exchanges a look of almost-completely-mock horror with the others and says, “Quick, everyone gather around.” As they do, he transports the group away and back to Io’lokar.

Once they are back in the city, the Angels quickly divide up the spoils from the expedition. Honar and Prine, each taking a share which is substantially smaller than what the Angels individually take, bid them goodbye and leave. But not before Prine asks if they will help him explore the ruins of Io’vakas now. Gareth, quite pleased with their success and evidently no longer mourning the loss of his old equipment, agrees to do so, as do the others. Nameless says, “We can give you a day and perhaps more if we find equipment or knowledge that would be useful against the aberration armies. But since we are Khorvaire’s primary line of defense against the aberrations, our time is not our own.” Prine thanks them and says a day should be enough. 

When the two Io’lokari leave, the Angels settle down to relax and rest. The remainder of the day passes without much incident, though a _scry_ing sensor does pop into existence near them. Having grown relatively used to these, nobody reacts with particular excitement, and Luna quickly _dispel_s it.

The Angels also receive multiple _sending_s from Khorvaire. The first is to Gareth from his mother, who says, “We are in Sentinel Tower. No attacks on Karrlakton, though fighting in nearby area. Karrnathi armies doing well. Hope you are safe. How is Lalia?” The paladin replies to say that things are going well and Lalia was in Sharn and fine the last time he saw her.

Jaela Daran also contacts Gareth to say, “Multiple aberration armies defeated across Khorvaire. Coalitions between nations are working well. Your information was very valuable. Do you have any more knowledge to share?” After a little discussion, Gareth relays Nameless’ reply, who says that the group will have more information in a day or two, but stresses that *extreme* caution should be used in following up on the information, as it is likely to be compromised at some point and *will* be used eventually to set up a trap.

Korm also receives a message, this one from Saala Torrn, saying, “Received information about armies from Jaela. Very accurate. Had ziggurat area checked. No activity above ground but powerful presences in ziggurat cavern. Will you return?” The Gatekeeper responds, “We’ll return soon.  Possibly without Gareth; he’s being wussy about his brain.  Maybe he’ll be better since we skinned the feebleminded dragon. There’s no lich to worry about.”

Lastly, Trillia contacts Nameless to say, “Are you fine? What news? Things seem quiet here. No more attacks on Sharn. City is rebuilding and repairing Cogs. Am still at Gray House.” The alienist replies, “Fine for now, but might change at any moment. You know how it goes. Feebleminded dragons are funny.”

* * * * *

Early the next day, the Guardian Angels leave Io’lokar with Prine. Since poking around the ruins of Io’vakas is generally frowned upon by the Io’lokari, they simply have Nameless _teleport_ them in, using a description from Prine.

They appear in the middle of the remnants of the ancient city, a huge expanse of ruined buildings, walls, statuary and similar structures in a plain of what looks like melted stone fused together, all covered in dust. Prine explains that the assault by the dragons literally melted the city down, while he leads the Angels towards the area which he wishes to explore. As they go, he says that he has generally found nothing worthwhile in Io’vakas on previous visits, but when he came to this area some four months ago he spotted two cloaked and humanoid figures in the open. Prine felt he was being watched and quickly left. 

“Speaking of being watched,” says Korm, “Should we worry about that?” The others look where he points, to see a large gold dragon flying by in a wide loop nearly half a mile away. 

“No,” says Prine. “Some of the dominion lords tend to keep an eye on Io’vakas, but they shouldn’t interfere unless we do something which draws attention, like large explosions and such.”

“Oh, good,” says Six, in a deadpan metallic voice. “That would never happen.”

As the group goes on, they notice that there is a strange echoing as one walks over the ground, causing the sound of their footsteps to carry further. But just as they are discussing the phenomenon, they are distracted by the sight of two cloaked and hooded figures, resembling Prine’s description, standing some three hundred feet away among the broken statuary which seems to more heavily dot this area. The figures stand stock-still and silent, seemingly gazing into the desert, giving no sign of having spotted the adventurers.

Luna promptly shouts, “Hello,” and then waves, but there is no reply. As the others begin to discuss what to do, she says, “I’ll go check,” and begins to transform. 

“Wait, Lu…,” begins Nameless as Luna’s body begins to swell, expand and turn green, but before he can finish Luna disappears. And an instant later, a huge tendriculos appears some thirty feet from the two figures. 

The figures spin around as Luna appears, each half-crouching and drawing a shortsword. The druid also notices that there is the gleam of armor under their cloaks and that the hands holding the swords, which are the only visible parts of their bodies, have claws at the end of their long fingers and are partially covered in scales. 

But Luna has little leisure to consider these sights. Two similar figures rise from where they had been hiding behind the shattered statues and rubble nearby. And an invisible blast of cold strikes the surprised druid, causing a thin coating of frost to appear on her bark.

As Luna roars, more from surprise and anger than actual hurt, the four figures move smoothly towards her. There is a sudden shimmering in the air around each as they do so, which causes their forms to distort slightly. And as they near her each waves a hand, causing a dark nimbus of energy to form around their claws and then shoot forth to strike Luna, causing painful wounds to appear on her.

“!” says Gareth, seeing Luna under attack, and calls on the Endless Blade to carry him forward faster than he can run, skimming just above the ground. The others also hurry towards Luna, but they are too far away to make a difference yet, especially since most of them pause to cast protective spells.

Not that Luna needs much assistance. With the creatures directly attacking her, she growls, “You’ll regret that!” and casts. A powerfully empowered _arc of lightning_ leaps from one creature to another, dropping one of the two in a smoking heap. The other is still jerking spasmodically from the electrical discharge as a swift _flame strike_ envelops it, leaving it a charred corpse.

The remaining two enemies exchange a quick set of words in some language, the accents of which are strange and sibilant to Luna. They instantly disappear from view, but the druid’s incredible hearing lets her know that they are still moving towards her. Which is confirmed as they appear, blades digging painfully deep into her bark.

Seriously hurt by now, Luna rolls out of the way and repeats the combination of spells which she just used. The effects are the same, with first one and then the last assailant dropping lifeless to the ground.

But before she can draw a relieved breath, Luna feels another blast of magical energy from an unknown source strike her, this one consisting of the same kind of electrical energy that she just used. This time, Luna’s cry is half groan and half roar as she feels herself weakening under the attacks. Critically hurt, she moves backwards, gasping the words to a _heal_ spell as she goes. 

Some distance behind her, Nameless halts in his flight, his _arcane sight_ revealing things the others cannot see. He especially notices one of the larger broken statues near the spot where the cloaked creatures had been standing. The alienist’s enhanced vision seeing that it is masked by an illusion and has the auras of divination, abjuration and universal magic on it, all of them strong. Nameless shouts, “That statue – it’s a powerful magical trap! Luna, you need to move away from it!”

As he speaks, another burst of energy strikes Luna, this time fiery hot in nature. Nameless’ vision reveals that its source is the strange statue, and he also realizes that it is not the normal arcane or divine magic that he is used to. A split second’s thought is all he needs to identify it as the sort of magical power he found wielded by the quori – psionics.

Luna neither knows nor cares about this information now that she knows where it comes from. With an angry roar she casts her most powerful spell. There is a violent trembling in the earth, its reverberations carrying to all of the Angels, and then the ground simply collapses in a huge circle as her _earthquake_ takes effect. The offending statue, and much of the ground around it, simply collapses into the sinkhole she created and disappears.

Now that it is safe, the other Angels move up to Luna or go to examine the bodies of her late attackers. Prine kneels beside one and pushes the hood back. What is revealed is a mostly human face, but with sharp fangs in its mouth, from between which a forked tongue lolls lifelessly. The eyes are slanted and serpentine, even in death, and the effect is exacerbated by large scale-like patches on the face and neck.

Prine gasps and swears violently at the sight, before looking up at the Angels. “Yuan-ti!”


----------



## carborundum

Good grief, Penfold!

And is Six getting psychic in his old age? Mind you, who could have predicted an earthquake?


----------



## Neurotic

Uh oh. After five MONTHS of reading (at work pauses) I'm all caught up and now have to join the legions eagerly awaiting next update. Luckily there is still sepulchrave...


----------



## Rackhir

Neurotic said:


> Uh oh. After five MONTHS of reading (at work pauses) I'm all caught up and now have to join the legions eagerly awaiting next update. Luckily there is still sepulchrave...




Welcome to the cult. Robe fittings are at 9:30 am sharp.

Yeah, I'm glad Sep seems to have found his muse again. For a while there we were going 9 mo - 1 yr between updates. I do wish he'd offer some insights into how he manages to make things work at those power levels though.


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> And is Six getting psychic in his old age? Mind you, who could have predicted an earthquake?




Predicting mayhem with the Guardian Angels is ... well, you know 



Neurotic said:


> Uh oh. After five MONTHS of reading (at work pauses) I'm all caught up and now have to join the legions eagerly awaiting next update. Luckily there is still sepulchrave...




Five months? Damn. Welcome to the secret club.



Rackhir said:


> Yeah, I'm glad Sep seems to have found his muse again. For a while there we were going 9 mo - 1 yr between updates. I do wish he'd offer some insights into how he manages to make things work at those power levels though.




Yeah, that's something I'd be very interested to read about too. I gather that part of it is the fact that he's doing things very differently to the RAW and it sounds like he does things individually with each player for the most part rather than actually playing together, plus some of the stuff which makes his story hour so much fun isn't oriented for gaming (how much of it is about the NPCs, for example). But getting some details from him would be nice.


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## carborundum

Say Shil, whatever happened that other game/ story hour thread of yours. You know, the granny-unfriendly one. Did it ever get posted anywhere else? It was mighty amusing and interesting, if you ask me!


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Say Shil, whatever happened that other game/ story hour thread of yours. You know, the granny-unfriendly one. Did it ever get posted anywhere else? It was mighty amusing and interesting, if you ask me!



Alas, we never got enough written about that to make it a real story hour. But yes, it was (and is, since we're still playing) a pretty interesting and amusing game/story.

BTW, I'm almost done with the next writeup, so I should have it up in a couple of days. Watch this space.


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## carborundum

I can only dream (*shudder*) about what those characters got up to. Alas indeed 
Glad you're having fun mate!


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> I can only dream (*shudder*) about what those characters got up to. Alas indeed
> Glad you're having fun mate!



Thanks. And here's the next update...

* * * * * * * * * *



“What’s you-auntie?” asks Gareth. 

“Yuan-ti,” corrects Nameless, realizing as he speaks that this is something he hasn’t encountered in his studies but simply knows due to his connections with Xoriat. “They are a species of humanoids with snake-like features. They are psionically strong and are from Sarlona.” 

Prine looks up at him suspiciously. “You seem to know a lot about yuan-ti for a newcomer to Argonnessen. Did you know they were there?” 

The alienist looks down and replies with an expression – and tone – as if he were speaking to someone mentally deficient. “I know a lot about _everything_ for a newcomer to Argonnessen. And no, I didn’t know they were here.” 

The Io’lokari nods, looking a little embarrassed, and says, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound suspicious. It’s just that this,” he gestures at the yuan-ti corpse he is kneeling beside, “Is really worrying for me. I don’t know if you know, but the reason Io’vakas was destroyed was due to the yuan-ti. Some of them dwelt in the city, and a secret cabal of them were trying to learn the secrets of dragon magic. When the dragons learned about it, they eradicated the city.” 

Korm whistles. “I guess the dragons believe in permanent solutions. Maybe we should tell them that the daelkyr want to learn dragon magic.” 

“I’m quite happy to never speak to them about dragon magic again, thank you,” says Nameless. “So, Prine, what do you want to do?” 

Prine scratches his head worriedly and finally says, “We should find out about the yuan-ti here. I need to know what’s going on.” 

“Fine by me,” says Luna, before grumbling, “The bastards attacked me when I was just talking. Let’s blow them the hell up.” 

“Again, I am utterly surprised at that suggestion,” says Six dryly, as he looks up from examining another of the bodies. Then he pulls back the corpse’s cloak to reveal its gleaming mithral chain shirt. “Looks like they have a fair amount of minor magic on them.” 

As the others fall to looting the corpses, Nameless says, “And a strong _abjuration_ aura on each of them, though I can’t identify it. It’s definitely not a spell, but some kind of other magical effect.” 

“Maybe we’ll find out after we kill them all,” says Luna brightly. 

Once they have taken whatever valuables the four yuan-ti had, the Guardian Angels and Prine cast around the area, until Six finds some tracks leading away. They are well-concealed, but with Prine’s aid the warforged is able to follow them until they end a short distance away at a ruined and half-buried building, which has only part of the top floor remaining.  

While the others wait, Six moves up along with Prine to confirm that the tracks lead to a broken window and over, with faint signs of old dried bloodstains on what remains of the lintel. Inside, the tracks seemingly end in the middle of the floor, but the two scouts quickly find a well-concealed trapdoor. When the others join them, Korm pulls up the trapdoor to reveal rough stairs leading down into darkness, seemingly carved out of the stone. The stairs appear to descend twenty feet and level out.  

“Let me clear the way,” says Nameless, casting a spell. A thick greenish-yellow cloud of noxious vapor appears midway down the shaft and then quickly flows down and into the chamber below.  

The adventurers settle down to wait, giving the _cloudkill_ time to do its work. After a good fifteen minutes, they head below. Luna, after grumbling about the fact that her tendriculos form cannot make it through the stairway, changes into a huge bear and squeezes herself through the shaft after the others. 

The stairs descend into a large, roughly circular stone chamber. The room contains a couple of low tables, which bear some tools, and has some clothing placed in crude stone shelves carved out of the walls. There are four hemispherical indentations in the floor on one side of the room, each with a large leather pallet within it, and behind them are two much larger indentations, with no pallet and a roughly cylindrical, worn rock some six feet tall in each, which has grooves worn into its sides. There is an open doorway directly across from the stairs, revealing a tunnel which goes ten feet and turns left, and a doorway blocked by a stone door to the right.  

Korm points at the cylindrical rocks. “Look at those grooves. Doesn’t it remind you of the perches which the nagas in the ziggurat were using?” 

“Maybe,” says Gareth uncertainly, looking around the area for any danger. “I don’t remember.” 

“Don’t worry,” chuckles the Gatekeeper, “We can double-check when we go back there.” He grins as he moves towards the open tunnel, his meteoric sword in hand. 

Leaving the closed door alone for the moment, the adventurers move down this tunnel, which turns a corner and then ends at another stone door. There is a strong stench of meat from the inside, and once they open the unlocked door it reveals a room which is evidently a combination of an abattoir, a meat locker and a mess hall. Large pieces of poorly preserved meat, some of them recognizably humanoid, are stacked on shelves against the back wall. Near them is a large stone table with cutting and carving implements on it, with an unlit brazier on either side. The table has grooves on it and a combination of ropes and chains at either end. There are a couple of smaller stone tables closer to the door, with wooden plates stacked on them. The only other thing in the room is what looks like a low stone well, full of dirty water. The stench is overwhelming once the door is open, especially since the noxious _cloudkill_ apparently seeped under the door and dissipated in the room only a minute or two earlier.  

“Gah!” growls Luna, moving backwards and holding a huge paw over her ursine nose, “That’s disgusting. Now I _really_ want to kill these bastards.” 

“Yeah,” replies Korm only half-jokingly, looking up from some of the meat he has been examining, “They don’t even use any spices! That’s just ghastly.” 

Prine doesn’t seem to be finding any humor in the situation, looking around with a grim expression. Once the room has been checked for hidden exits (and none found), he says, “Let’s go check the other door. I don’t want the yuan-ti here to escape before we find out what they were doing.”  

The others proceed to follow him back to the original chamber, where they find that the closed stone door is looked. Listening at the door, Luna says, “I can hear some movement on the other side. Maybe thirty-forty feet away?” 

“Oh, good,” says Korm. “So how do we open the door? Should I chop it down?” 

“These guys are psionic,” says Luna. “So that’s all this mind-power stuff, right? Maybe one can will the door open?” 

“Go ahead and try,” says Six, while the others snicker, and the bear furrows its brow and concentrates. After a couple of seconds, she growls, “Damn – not happening. Oh, and you guys shut up!” 

“All right,” says Six calmly, looking at a scroll he has produced in the meanwhile. “Let me try.” He reads the arcane words of the _knock_ spell, and everyone can hear the sound of something scraping on the other side. “It should be open,” Six says quickly. “Try opening it.”  

Korm grabs the door and attempts to do so, and this time it rolls smoothly into the wall on one side. But as it does so, darkness spills out of it, a huge hemisphere of it enveloping the waiting adventurers. It is clearly magical, since their darkvision is useless within it, and Nameless snaps, “It’s a _deeper darkness_.” 

The alienist follows by casting a _greater dispel_, but it surprisingly has no effect. Gareth, calling on the Silver Flame, begins to glow with argent flame, but it sheds only dim light in a small circle around him, not really helping his allies. Luckily, Luna quickly follows Nameless’ example, and the magical darkness disappears, revealing the chamber beyond. It is a huge square hall, sixty feet in length and breadth, with two rows of pillars running through it. There are open doors to the left and the right, and a larger open door in the far wall, revealing a tunnel leading away. The floor of the room has wavy serpentine patterns carved into it, and the pillars too have serpentine markings running up their sides.  

Not spending time on the architecture, Nameless – having noticed multiple auras – calls a warning, “There are six invisible creatures hidden behind the pillars near the other end.”  

The warning provides little aid, partly because the enemies react too quickly and partly because there are more enemies he hasn’t seen. More auras flash into view as enemies fly out of the doors on either side of the chamber, but before Nameless can call another warning the enemies attack.  

Three creatures appear as they hurl bolts of darkness at Luna, while another three do the same for Gareth. These creatures are garbed and armed like the yuan-ti Luna killed above the ground, but their heads are those of snakes, complete with lidless eyes, fangs and forked tongues. 

The enemies whose auras Nameless already spotted also appear as they attack, revealing themselves to be yuan-ti like the human-headed ones above. All six attack Luna, seriously wounding her and drawing an angry growl from Korm, who had just cast a _blindsight_ so he could detect invisible enemies. 

“Go!” snaps Six, triggering a wand stored inside the sheath built into his mechanical arm, and _haste_ing everyone except Luna. The warforged moves swiftly into the room, snapping his chain free and moving behind a pillar. Prine, turning invisible, follows quickly. 

Nameless, able to see where Prine is via his _arcane sight_, casts as they move in, targeting it so that he avoids his allies. A burst of light explodes only a few feet ahead of Six and Prine, the _radiant assault_ blasting two of the yuan-ti, though it flows harmlessly off a third. A split second later the alienist follows with a _fireball_ in exactly the same spot, this time affecting all three and slaying the two previously hurt ones. 

A moment later, Gareth zooms forward, propelled by the Endless Blade. The last wounded yuan-ti  barely has time to raise its sword before the paladin chops down, sundering sword, arm and head all at once. 

Korm unleashes a _horrid wilting_ an instant later, painfully draining a quantity of water from the bodies of a number of the yuan-ti. But none of them fall, and when he gives one of those near Gareth the evil eye, the yuan-ti shakes it off. 

The remaining nine yuan-ti leap to the attack, some tumbling within the range of Six’s chain to stab him, while others attack the already wounded Luna. Critically wounded, the druid has to _heal_ herself and even call on her beast spirit to keep herself on her feet. 

The other yuan-ti go after Gareth. Two of them fly forward just as he did, swords bursting into flame as they flank him and stab deeply with their shortswords. As the paladin reels one of his attackers cries out and grabs at its eyes, Gareth’s aura of protecting flame blinding it as it struck him. But it still leaves Gareth badly wounded, and when another yuan-ti levels its sword and shoots a bolt of fire from it into his back, the paladin falls. 

One last yuan-ti remains, and as Gareth falls, it races forward, drawing a saw-toothed dagger. Dropping to a knee, the creature throws back its serpentine head, calling a prayer in its sibilant tongue to whatever gods it worships … and then slashes across the paladin’s defenseless throat, sending blood spraying across the floor.* 

“You bloody motherf*cker!” shouts the Endless Blade as Gareth’s body convulses and goes limp, and then shouts to the group, “Someone save Gareth’s ass, damn you! He’s dying!” 

As the startled yuan-ti nearby stare at the talking sword, Nameless says calmly, “We’re slightly busy, you know, but here goes.” Another combination of _radiant assault_ and a swift _fireball_ follows, placed with pinpoint precision so that they explode high enough above Gareth’s body to strike the enemies nearby without even singing his body.  

As two yuan-ti fall, their heads and upper torsos charred to a crisp, Six’s chain licks out to trip a third. An instant later, Prine appears above it, his shortswords a blur which cuts the yuan-ti to ribbons before it can scream. 

Korm flies in on his cloaker-wings, the Gatekeeper using his gaze against the yuan-ti which had attempted to sacrifice Gareth. The creature, having avoided Nameless’ spells because it was kneeling low, stumbles to its feet, lidless eyes going wide as supernatural fear overcomes its mind. It turns and flees, and Korm drops down into the spot where it had knelt.  

But other yuan-ti remain and a couple move forward, flames dancing along their blades, while the remainder prepare to hurl more bolts of energy. “Luna!” shouts Korm, “Keep them off me for a second while I help Gareth!” 

The dire bear growls and makes the gestures for a spell with a paw. A moment later, a thicket of spiky branches appears around a number of the yuan-ti, including the one fleeing in panic, the _wall of thorns_ holding them in place. A couple of them still hurl bolts of dark energy at the Gatekeeper, but the cover provided by the branches affects their aim and the spines dig into their arms and bodies as they move. 

Only one streak of energy strikes Korm and the strange pulse of darkness flows up and around his face, almost disorienting him for a second before he throws it off. As the effect dissipates, Korm fends of an attacking yuan-ti and then casts a _heal_. The spell should be useless on someone wounded as Gareth has been, but the strength of Mordain’s modifications has kept the paladin barely alive for a few extra seconds. As his wounds close completely he gasps and sits up, and an amulet on Korm’s chest flares to life, causing his own wounds to be similarly healed by his spell.  

The yuan-ti fall back for a moment, calling out to each other in surprise, before they again move forward to attack. But the element of surprise is now lost and with some of their number held tightly by Luna’s spell, they have no chance. The only reason they last nearly a dozen seconds is because a couple of the Angels, with a combination of bad luck and perhaps over-confidence, suddenly seem unable to affect them. Nameless drops an empowered _fireball_ from his staff on two serpent-headed yuan-ti stuck in the _wall_ and completely fails to affect both**. Six, magically unaffected by the _wall_, walks into it, swings at one of the yuan-ti and misses the target even though it is held in place***. 

“What are you guys doing?” growls Luna and breaks into a charge. Unaffected by the _wall_ as well, she bursts through as if it did not even exist, seizing a yuan-ti in her jaws. Dragging it through the thorns, which lacerates the unfortunate creature, she emerges on the opposite side and simply bites its head off.

Gareth, Korm and Prine dispatch the others outside the _wall_ and Nameless, irritated at his previous spell’s ineffectiveness, blasts one of the two left in the _wall_ apart with an _orb of cold_ aimed with a swift _true strike_. 

There is only one last yuan-ti left, a human-headed one, and Luna re-enters the _wall_ to get it. Before she can kill it, Korm says hurriedly, “Don’t kill it! I want to interrogate it.”  

“Watch this,” says Six, turning to Prine. “It’ll be educational.” 

Luna, grumbling under her breath, drags the yuan-ti out of the thorns and then pins it to the ground. Before it can do anything, Korm fixes it with his gaze, attempting to charm it. The yuan-ti tenses and then ceases to struggle. “Quick,” says Korm, “Let it up but keep a hold on it.” 

Luna does so and the yuan-ti sits up with a confused look on its face. It says a few words and Korm says, “Crap – I don’t understand!” The yuan-ti looks even more uncertain, clearly not understanding what he said either. 

“See?” Six says to Prine. “Very educational.” 

Korm gives him a dirty look and then tries a few words of different languages. When he uses the draconic tongue, the yuan-ti responds in an accented and archaic version of the language. “Friend,” it says, sounding as confused as it looks, “Why are you with these creatures? You must let me go. You know we must protect the Mask.” 

“Yes, yes,” says Korm, “Of course we must. What Mask?” 

As Prine almost says something in his surprise at the choice of words, Six reassures him. “Don’t worry – this is how we … they do it.” 

The yuan-ti looks even more confused. “What do you mean? You know we protect the Serpent’s Mask.” 

“Right,” says Korm unconvincingly, “And that’s something we’re all here to help you with. You should lead us to it.” 

The yuan-ti holds the Gatekeeper’s gaze for a long moment as the latter attempts to compel him to obey, but this sort of subtle manipulation is not Korm’s forte at all****. The yuan-ti cries out, “No – this is a trick! You cannot fool me!” It looks around wildly for a moment, seeing that it has no chance of escape. Then it reaches for its own throat, dark energy coursing over its nails. 

Before it can kill itself, Korm grabs its wrist, pinning its arm to the ground. The yuan-ti curses in its own tongue and tries to claw and bite at him, but against the Gatekeeper’s giant strength it is helpless. “Any ideas?” asks Korm, holding it down and looking at the others. 

Luna reaches out with her giant paws and, to the surprise of the others, begins to rub it up and down the yuan-ti’s sides, causing it to squirm uncomfortably. 

“What are you doing, Luna?” asks Nameless. 

“Tickling it. I heard that’s hard to resist.” 

“Oh, come on!” says Gareth, even as Korm, Six and Prine start laughing. “Korm, ask it about the Mask again and where it is,” he instructs, eyes glowing silver as he begins to _detect thoughts_ on the captive. 

Korm does so, but the yuan-ti, struggling in his grasp and Luna’s, doesn’t respond. Nevertheless, Gareth nods and says, “I got a visual of it. And it’s down that corridor. Guarded, but I couldn’t make out by whom.” 

“Think you can get any more from it?” asks Korm. 

“Not likely. You can dispose of him.” 

“Gla…,” begins Korm, but before he can do anything Luna simply leans over and bites the yuan-ti’s head off. Then she spits it out and says happily, “There, all done.”  

“And that,” Six says to the fascinated Prine, “Is how we do these things. I’m never completely sure why.” 


* Going to -21 will do that to you. 

** He failed to get the 4 or higher to get through SR both times. 

*** Rolled a natural 1, then used a reroll ability and rolled another natural 1. 

**** Especially considering that he has a 10 Charisma _including_ the permanent +4 enhancement boost to all stats from Mordain, and then happened to roll a 1 for his opposed Cha check and the yuan-ti rolled a 20.


----------



## carborundum

Holy moley!
That sounds like a fun night! I like how they've ended up in the middle of something simply by their choice of vacation resort. Tpical Shilsen throw a hundred hints at the wall and run with whichever one sticks


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Holy moley!
> That sounds like a fun night! I like how they've ended up in the middle of something simply by their choice of vacation resort. Tpical Shilsen throw a hundred hints at the wall and run with whichever one sticks



What did you expect? Convoluted plots are too much hard work for me. I'm much happier just throwing a bunch of stuff out there, as you said, and then just run with what the PCs are focused (or about to focus) on. And then pretend it's convoluted


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## shilsen

After having disposed of the unfortunate yuan-ti, the Guardian Angels and Prine go on to explore the rooms on either side of the hall. One of the rooms is clearly living quarters, like the one they had seen before but with more sleeping spaces, evidently differentiated between the snake-headed yuan-ti and their more humanoid-seeming relatives. The other, smaller, room is an armory. Two dozen weapons of various descriptions lie on the crude racks and stone shelves within it, as do four mithral chain shirts. All of the items are magical, though not heavily enchanted.

“Someone has a lot of magic,” comments Korm, examining the weapons.

“Had,” says Gareth, collecting all valuable items and shoving them into a _bag of holding_. “The more stuff they have, the better for us.”

Nameless eyes the paladin and the slowly-fading scar on Gareth’s neck from the wound which had almost decapitated him only minutes ago. “It’s good to see that looting revives you especially quickly,” he comments dryly, before leaving the room.

The adventurers cautiously open the stone door at the end of the hall, seeing that there is a simple mechanism which causes it to roll sideways into the wall, and which can be blocked by inserting a rock into a slot in the door. Beyond the door is a corridor, which slopes downwards as it extends for thirty feet, before turning north to end at another closed door. Set to the right, just past the turn, is an open doorway. 

Looking in, the Angels see a large chamber with another door on the far side. This room has six serpentine pillars in the corners of the room, covered in carvings and apparently serving as decoration and possibly as sleeping perches. There is a large wooden writing desk on one side, and another one which looks more like a stone plinth with space for writing on it. Many papers lie on the two desks and a large map hangs on the wall. 

The Angels quickly begin to examine and search the room and its contents. They also check the next room to find it a small but well-stocked arcane laboratory. Besides some useful reagents, the main things of interest they find are two large lumps of mithral, weighing over a hundred lbs. in total. Gareth quickly stows them away too. 

Meanwhile, Nameless sifts through the papers on one desk and says, “They are all written in the yuan-ti tongue. I do not know it, but some of the lettering is common to archaic draconic. I could probably decipher the language with time and can work some of it out already. For example, this is a list of names, I think. And,” he reaches for another paper, “This says something about the Serpent’s Mask that yuan-ti mentioned.”

“I can read it,” says Six, having produced a scroll of _comprehend languages_ from his voluminous collection and used it. The warforged quickly begins to scan the various documents in the area and explain what they say. The map, for example, depicts the ruins of Io’vakas, with multiple areas circled and marked “Searched”, “To be searched”, “Useless,” etc. The papers are notes of the yuan-ti exploration of the area, which has apparently been going on for some time. The two most noteworthy things found in the first set of papers are references to the Serpent’s Mask, which the document says has made the yuan-ti completely successful in evading the dragons, and references to someone called Sura from Io’lokar. 

“Sura?!” asks Prine, looking as horrified as he sounds, “I know Sura! He’s a sage in the city. He’s been there for all his life – centuries, in fact. He’s one of us!”

“Not according to this,” says Six. “He’s a disguised yuan-ti. I think he replaced the original Sura, but the paper’s lacking some details.”

As Prine blanches further, Luna asks, “Anything more about this special mask these snake-guys have? What’s so special about it?”

“Let’s see.” Six examines the second desk of papers, but finds no description of the Mask’s powers besides another reference to it protecting the yuan-ti from detection by the dragons. He does, however, find something about other yuan-ti locations in the ruins and the fact that there are multiple groups searching the buried remnants of Io’vakas, which pass the Mask from one to another regularly for safekeeping and to ward themselves using it. 

“Now I really want the Mask,” says Gareth. “Did you find anything else which is useful, Six?”

“Just this. It is the same list of names Nameless found, but with a few more details. The yuan-ti are divided into what they call purebloods, half-bloods and abominations, I think, and it has names by group.” Six counts silently and says, “I think there are only six more left here, the abominations.”

“Six abominations, six perches,” says Korm, pointing at the pillars. “Makes sense.”

“They’re probably guarding the Mask now,” says Luna. “Let’s go find them before they get away. And then we can leave this damn place!”

“Yes,” says Prine, “We need to stop the yuan-ti from escaping and I need to take news of this situation back to…,” he hesitates, “… whoever is best equipped to handle it.” 

The adventurers continue onwards, quickly reaching the door at the end of the corridor. As at the hall where they fought the half-bloods and their pureblood allies, they find it locked and hear faint movement on the other side. The Angels prepare themselves and then Six again uses a scroll of _knock_, enabling them to swing open the door. And as before, magical darkness promptly spills out, surrounding them all. 

Nameless’ magical vision lets him pick up a plethora of magical auras within the darkness, concentrated in eight spots. Two of them display exactly the same combination as the strange magical statue outside the tunnel complex, and as they flare into life, a blast of sonic energy emanates from each and strikes the Angels.

Instinctively dodging the twin blasts as the alienist yells a warning, Six hurriedly reaches into his backpack and pulls out the lantern they found in Kallionaxis’ lair. When he flips up the hatch, a cone of light emerges from it, negating the magical darkness and revealing most of the chamber before them. It is large and square hall, sixty feet in length and breadth. On the far side of the room, against the two walls, are ten foot wide ramps leading up twenty feet to a large balcony which runs fifteen feet deep. In the center of the balcony is a large, closed door, ten feet wide, with a carving of a snake’s head on it. Near the middle of the room and equidistant from the walls and each other are two tall statues of giant snakes with hoods like cobras, but with a pair of large muscular arms each. These, Nameless notes, are the source of the magical blasts.

Six more figures resembling the statues also occupy the room, but these are very much alive. Four of them are significantly larger, wearing nothing but mithral chain shirts and large harnesses which extend over their muscular, humanoid shoulders. They wield giant falchions as they eye the intruders menacingly from their positions – one each at the bottom of the ramps and one each at the top on the balcony. Between the two on the balcony are a pair of similar figures, smaller than them and wearing a collection of pouches and bags around their waists below their armor. Their clawed hands are already moving in the motions of spellcasting, and Nameless sees more magical auras join the many around them. 

“Get the casters!” the alienist snaps, his form changing horribly as he manifests the aspect of Cyäegha, and then casting a _greater dispel_ to remove the darkness and strip away a protective aura from each of the smaller yuan-ti.

As their enemies rush in, the large abominations level their falchions and blasts of psionic energy shoot forth. Two are aimed at Six but the agile warforged dodges aside, partly due to the aura of shadows that emerges from his armor and makes his form indistinct. Korm and Gareth are not as lucky, being blasted backwards by the energy and slammed painfully against the walls behind them. 

The Gatekeeper growls angrily and takes clumsily to the air, muttering, “Try this on for size!” He unleashes his most powerful spell, the _horrid wilting_ striking two of the large abominations and especially wounding one of the smaller yuan-ti.  

“I’ll get them,” growls Luna, lumbering into the room in the tendriculos form she assumed before the attack began, but Nameless snaps, “No, Luna – we need healing first! Gareth, you take him down.” Luna growls even louder but doesn’t argue, casting a _mass cure light wounds_ on her allies.

As she casts, Gareth zooms forward and up, carried by the Endless Blade. The wounded psion recoils, bringing up a shield of translucent energy, but it is to no avail, as the paladin smites it. The Endless Blade cuts inexorably through the shield and the figure behind it, dropping it with a cloven skull.

The other psion backs hurriedly away, taking shelter behind one of its larger compatriots and then firing a burst of energy missiles from its hand, wounding Nameless and Luna as well as Prine, who has somersaulted in to stab a large abomination at the bottom of the ramp. 

A second later, Prine hurriedly drops to the ground at Nameless’ order, just below the edge of a _cone of cold_ that blasts the two large abominations and the psion. Nameless’ spell is instantly followed by invisible ripples of energy from the two statues, one sonic and another cold, which strike the Angels still between them and the door. Realizing how they work, Nameless calls quickly, “Get up to or past the statues and they won’t attack!”

While he is correct, the abominations have no such problems and they concentrate their attacks, three moving into position and hurling dark bolts of energy that leave Gareth almost out on his feet. Another, unable to reach the paladin, takes to the air and slashes Nameless badly, also critically wounding the alienist.

For an instant, the yuan-ti seem to have the edge, but while they might be able to match the Angels in offensive power, the two druids’ healing abilities make the difference. Korm, using his amulet to double its effects, casts a _heal_ on Nameless which also affects himself. And Luna, reaching some fifteen feet with her gigantic tentacle, shrouds Gareth in a healing and protective _cocoon_.

From that point on, the battle is never seriously in doubt, though the abominations give a good account of themselves, fighting with sword and psionic power to the bitter end. One, with Prine and Six teaming up on him, cuts down the Io’lokari scout with its last blow before Six’s spiked chain rips open its throat. Another two combine forces to almost kill Luna, leaving the giant tendriculos lying in a pool of green gore*, before Korm rips one’s throat out. The other ends up paralyzed and dissolving slowly inside the maw of the revengeful tendriculos when she is revived. The last large abomination, striking Gareth as the paladin emerges from the _cocoon_, is blinded by his divine aura but stubbornly fights on till Gareth decapitates it.

Only the psion, hurling energy missiles furiously, survives. But when Nameless – whose spells it manages to disrupt once – manages to _summon_ a pair of his elementals, it finally gives up and disappears, using some form of psionic teleportation to flee.

As silence falls over the battlefield, Luna chews meditatively on what remains of an abomination and says tiredly, “I really hope that’s it, since I’ve had enough for the day.”

“That’s a first,” says Nameless dryly, flying up to the balcony. “Let’s get everyone healed and find the Mask. Who knows if the yuan-ti will return with reinforcements?”

The alienist examines the door minutely and then moves out of the way before ordering the two huge elementals to open it. As one touches the door, it slides open, revealing a small square room beyond. Its walls are covered with large metal plates which seem to be made of lead, each of them etched with the serpentine symbols of the yuan-ti. In the center of the chamber, a mask of some dark metal, depicting an angular semi-humanoid and semi-reptilian face with slitted eyes, floats suspended in midair. 

Nameless flies backwards and away, just in case, and then commands the elementals to enter and fetch the mask. One does so, and though faint whispers fill the room and the mask begins to glow with a faint green light on being touched, there is no other evident effect. Taking the mask, Nameless then orders the elementals to destroy the chamber the mask was in. While they proceed to do so, he examines it carefully, first with his _arcane sight_ and then using a magical monocle to decipher its powers.

When he has done so, the alienist says, sounding faintly – and for him, unusually – impressed, “This is very old, and equally powerful. It is called the Serpent’s Mask. One must don the Mask for a minute in order to partake of its power, and it can affect up to six creatures per day, with no limit to the total number of creatures that can be affected. Its power lasts for one month. Throughout that period, thrice a day, a character that has been granted its power can make himself undetectable to dragons for an hour at a time.”

“Undetectable? _How_ undetectable?” asks Korm.

“Completely. Dragons cannot see, hear or smell a warded creature, even with their blindsense ability. It seems that a warded crea¬ture could dance around the most perceptive of dragons and not be attacked or even noticed. But the effect ends if one touches or attacks a dragon in any way.”

“Damn!” says Gareth. “And sh*t! I wish we had this when we ran into Xagygyrag. Then we would definitely have kicked his ass!”

“Perhaps,” says Six, “But right now shouldn’t we take it and leave?”

“Yes,” grumbles Luna. “Let’s go!”

Prine too is in a hurry to leave, so the Angels carefully store away the Mask and then retrace their steps to the entrance. They climb the stairs and emerge into the sunshine above – to be greeted by the form of a huge gold dragon lounging expectantly outside the building.

The dragon promptly rises and says, its long neck extending over the group, “Greetings. Who are you? What business do you have in the ruins of Io’vakas? Are you from Io’lokar?” Its tone is polite but firm, brooking no argument.

_I’m an idiot!_ thinks Nameless, _I should have teleported us back to the city._ He glances at Prine, but the Io’lokari scout says nothing for the moment, striving rather to hide his alarm and the guilty expression on his face. The alienist sighs inwardly and replies, “Greetings. We are adventurers from beyond Argonnessen and Prine here is from Io’lokar. We were exploring the ruins for sheer curiosity.”

“May I know what your name is?” asks Gareth, barely hiding his displeasure at being caught and questioned in this way.

“My name is irrelevant,” says the dragon flatly, “It is enough to know that I am one of the guardians of this area.” Its tone shifts perceptibly as it says, “What then of the yuan-ti corpses there? What do you know of them?” The word ‘yuan-ti’ is spat out, as if the dragon finds the term itself distasteful.

“We killed them,” says Korm proudly, before making a horribly feeble attempt to bluff, “They were bandits who attacked us.”

“Really?”

Disbelief and growing suspicion is clear in its voice and Nameless shakes his head. “Ix-nay on lying to the nice dragon with powerful friends,” he mutters in orcish, before replying to the dragon in its own tongue, “We did not know they were here, and when they ambushed us and we killed them. We found a lair of theirs below this area and slew many there too, at great risk to ourselves. Their bodies lie below. You may investigate and see the truth of our words.”

The dragon looks quizzically at the alienist and then at the hole leading down into the darkness. “I will. But first, show me everything you found in there.”

Nameless nods and begins to produce the various items. As he does so, Gareth steps over to help and whispers, “Don’t give him the Mask.” 

The alienist shakes his head. “I’m giving him everything.” Prine, having walked across to help produce the items, nods quickly. “Yes,” he says quietly, “Please do that.”

Gareth frowns, reluctant to pass up the valuable item due to a combination of greed and the desire to have greater protection against any dragons they might battle in the future. After a moment, he looks up at the dragon and says suspiciously, “How do we know you are who you say you are? Maybe you’re just trying to fool us into giving you our valuables.”

The dragon snorts in surprise, and perhaps disgust, and growls, “I would not lie to such as you. I am an eye of the Conclave, a claw of the Light of Siberys.” It bares its fangs as it speaks, but then hesitates for a moment, and finally says, a little more calmly, “You are clearly powerful, to have survived entering Argonnessen and defeated the yuan-ti. Perhaps your combined might can overcome me. But know this – if you do, the flights of Siberys will hunt you down, wherever you go.”

“I have no intention of fighting you,” says Nameless quickly, and then glares at Gareth, “And if any of my companions do so, I’ll be on your side.” Having said that, he turns to address the others, “We have much bigger issues in Khorvaire and I do not have any intention of upsetting the dragons. Especially since we are waiting for a response from the Conclave. That’s more important than any magical item, however powerful – and however much you want it, Gareth. Remember, that Mask would only be helpful if they didn’t know we had it.”

As a couple of the others mutter their agreement, and ignoring the fuming paladin, the alienist turns to the warily watching dragon and says, “In case you have heard, we are the ones who recently found Khesavuthir, the Black Well, and informed the Conclave about it. We also have a petition to them which has been brought by the Chamber. I should also mention,” Nameless continues, “That what happened here was nothing new for us. We can’t go get a newspaper without stumbling across an ancient conspiracy or having some dire menace attempting to kill us. As this discovery here shows, we make excellent stalking horses, so please keep that in mind when you report to your superiors.” 

The dragon says nothing for a long moment and then nods slowly. “I have heard something of your activities. But now, show me what you have – and what this mask that you mentioned is.”

Nameless produces the mask and the papers he collected, and proceeds to explain what he has learned from them and about the item’s powers. The dragon looks momentarily surprised and then says, “Thank you. This is very important information.” After checking what else they found, the dragon leaves them with the rest of their loot, thanking them again but also warning them, “I suggest you leave these ruins immediately. And I hope that you have concealed nothing from me.” 

“We haven’t,” says Nameless, “And we will leave instantly.” As the dragon leaps into the air with a flap of its wings, the alienist gathers the others around and then _teleport_s them away to the entrance to Io’lokar. 


* Actually took her below -10, which means Luna took something like 300+ pts of damage in the fight


----------



## carborundum

Wow - tough fight! And I really feel for Gareth 
He finally gets some cool loot and has to give it up. Is he even back to the level of loot/equipment he was before Xagygyrag looted _him_?

Thanks Shil!

PS, OT: My girlfriend's just gone to India for 3 weeks - Delhi, Jaipur & Varanasi. Any tips for stuff to see would be welcome. She's learning to be a goldsmith & intends to get some nice gems there. Is there a typical bargaining level for tourists? If they start at, say, €300 and she bargains to 120 - is that good or still way too much?

She had the best Murg Tandoori ever last night. Me = jealous.


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Wow - tough fight! And I really feel for Gareth
> He finally gets some cool loot and has to give it up. Is he even back to the level of loot/equipment he was before Xagygyrag looted _him_?




Yes, he's back up there again now, though he may not have been so at this particular point. Some of the others were also fairly generous about giving him big chunks out of their own shares of loot to buy him stuff. Not that it totally mollified him, of course 



> PS, OT: My girlfriend's just gone to India for 3 weeks - Delhi, Jaipur & Varanasi. Any tips for stuff to see would be welcome. She's learning to be a goldsmith & intends to get some nice gems there. Is there a typical bargaining level for tourists? If they start at, say, €300 and she bargains to 120 - is that good or still way too much?
> 
> She had the best Murg Tandoori ever last night. Me = jealous.




Hah! I just got back from Delhi (my first trip there in a dozen years) only about 6 hours ago! I've never actually been to Jaipur and Varanasi, but I gather that there'll be no end of things to see there, esp. in Jaipur. There are a lot of great places to see in Delhi too, esp. if she's interested in historical monuments, such as Humayun's Tomb, the Red Fort, and Qutab Minar. Does she know anyone in India? I'd highly recommend asking someone local for ideas. And that goes double for bargaining. There really is no fixed bargaining level for tourists, and it varies drastically by location, item and the individual seller. If she could find some reliable and well-informed local person to accompany her, she'd be much better off.

I hope that helps.

And here's an update to boot!

* * * * * 

When the Angels appear near the gates of Io’lokar and walk up to it, making sure to give the guards a chance to see them, they find two of the Arnaaracaex – the stone giant guardians of the city – waiting. The giants politely ask the group to meet their two friends – that is the two members of the Wayfinder Foundation whom the Angels brought here from Sharn – at the Heights as soon as possible. The giants can say nothing more, explaining that their orders simply come from the higher levels of the city. 

Prine asks nervously if he is included, but the giants reply in the negative, so when the Angels are about to move on he takes his leave of them. Before going, he asks the Angels to not mention anything about what they discovered to anyone in the city, explaining that he needs to talk to some friends about it first.

“Very well,” says Nameless, “But if sharing the information will aid our situation in Khorvaire I will have to do so.”

“I understand,” says Prine, “And I wouldn’t ask that of you. Thank you for everything.”

Once he has left, the Angels travel swiftly through the city, using the automatically accessible _dimension door_ and _fly_ options to make extremely good time. In minutes they are speaking to Tiem and Fanil in the small shop that the two Wayfinders have been given in the Height, the fourth level of the city, where the colleges are. The two of them are pleased to meet the Angels, explaining that they have already disposed of all the items that they brought and are very desirous of going back to Khorvaire as soon as possible to get more. 

Fanil also has a sealed envelope, which had been delivered to them with instructions for the Angels to read it forthwith before leaving the city again. When they open it, the Angels find a short, official-looking letter, which says that they – and the two Foundation members – are to present themselves at the Bastion as soon as possible. It is signed “The Masters,” which is what the leaders of the city are called.

A little checking from people in the area reveals that the Bastion is the highest level of the city, which contains the chambers and residences of the city’s most powerful residents. It also contains the council chambers of the Masters, the Io’lokari who dedicate themselves to the administration of the city. This is an unelected body which changes from month to month depending on when an Io’lokari wants to join, since anyone powerful enough is allowed to. Citizens are free to speak to the council or attend their meetings whenever they want to, but non-citizens are very rarely allowed or invited to do so.

When the Angels and the Foundation members head up to the Bastion, they find that the wall gate is the only one in the city between the different wards which is guarded. Four of the Arnaaracaex stand there, and when the Angels arrive, their leader says, “Greetings. You are expected. Please follow me.” He steps through the arch behind him and waits expectantly. 

Nameless’ _arcane sight_ reveals a number of powerful warding auras extending from the arch, especially abjurations and divinations. Hence he is unsurprised as there is a momentary shimmer when they step through the archway and everyone’s magical equipment and enhancements fail. For just an instant, as if they had stepped through an infinitely thin _anti-magic field_. The items and enhancements spring back to life again, but the stone giants are staring at Nameless, who has been revealed in all of his tentacled glory for a second. Tiem and Fanil, after a momentary start, quickly back away from him.

The leader of the guards says, calmly but firmly, “What are you? Please reveal your true nature and form.” The other three stand by silently, but their hands are on the hilts of their swords.

Six sighs at the question and looks at the two Wayfinders. “Pull up a rock and light a fire; this just might take some time.”

Nameless calmly removes the _hat of disguise_ and reveals his true form. “I am what I am. I have _transcended_ and am no longer something that is bounded by the nature of this world. It is difficult to explain exactly what I am, as mortal language is insufficient to convey what that is. It would be like trying to explain color to those who have never seen or sound to those who have never been able to hear. And to be completely honest, I do not fully understand it myself.”

“However, I have no desire to conceal or deceive you about what I am. You merely need to ask those we have had dealings with to confirm that. But I do find many are disturbed by what I have become, exactly as you were just now. So I do not advertise the fact that I have Transcended and adopt a more ‘normal’ aspect, for dealing with those who are unfamiliar with what it is I have become.”

He smiles slightly. “Believe me, I am far from the strangest thing we have encountered.”

The guard leader studies Nameless silently for a few seconds and then says, “Very well. You may enter, since the Masters wish to see you. But don your disguise again. I do not wish to alarm anyone.” He gestures for the group to follow him and heads into the compound, and one of the other giants falls in behind the Angels. Tiem and Fanil look uncertainly back and forth and then follow, keeping a safe distance from Nameless.

As the Angels and the Wayfinder Foundation members enter the area beyond the gate, they can see that the Bastion differs from other areas of Io’lokar in that there seems to be a much smaller population here and most of them are more advanced in age, with no children and few people below middle age visible. Some of those walking around look curiously at the newcomers, but nobody stops or questions them.

Eventually, the group comes to a large hall, and one of the stone giants asks them to wait outside while he goes in. He returns a few minutes later and leads them in, through a corridor to a large chamber. The stone giants do not enter but simply gesture for the others to do so. Already present in the room, seated around the large semi-circular table in the center, are four figures – a goblin, two humans, and a half-elf. All are elderly and well-dressed, with Nameless picking up multiple powerful magical auras on them and their clothing and possessions. Many more auras are present in the room, of course.

The goblin gestures at the row of seats on the flat side of the semi-circular table. “Please, have a seat.” When everyone is seated, he raps on the table and small bowls of refreshments and glasses of wine appear by everyone’s side. “We are the Masters of Io’lokar,” the goblin says, “You are, of course, newcomers to our city, and we would like to know your intentions here.” He stops and waits expectantly.

Six replies, “We came to Argonnessen to gain help in defending Khorvaire from a Xoriat invasion. Io’lokar was a suggestion given to us by Bruntutalephion, a dragon we met, where we could find that help. But it’s been slow going. We have made our case to the Chamber and Council and are awaiting their responses. While waiting, we thought some contact between our peoples could be beneficial, so we brought some Wayfinder Foundation members. We could arrange a few more trips, if you want to continue contact with Khorvaire, but our trips here are sporadic since invasion demands make our life erratic.”

The Masters listen silently and then exchange glances. Nameless’ _arcane sight_ reveals that they are likely communicating over a _telepathic link_. The younger of the two humans, a woman with coal-black hair which belies her middle-aged face, now speaks. “Yes, we have heard that you are in contact with the Chamber. What you wish with them and their views on it are your business and immaterial to us. But this ... invasion is an issue, since we naturally do not want it to impact our city adversely in any way.” 

She spreads her arms, palm-first, before her and continues, “We are a peaceful city, though we are well prepared to defend ourselves when necessary. And we cannot afford to get involved in the affairs of other lands.” She pauses and throws a sharp look at the half-elf, presumably in response to a mental comment, before continuing. “Though individuals may, within reason, choose to do so. Hence, what we wish to ascertain is that contact between Khorvaire and Io’lokar is not going to be disruptive to our society. So, what can you predict about your people and their attitude to our city? Should we expect a number of visitors? And if so, will they be traders, or people like you, who have business with the dragons? Or even refugees from your wars?” The tone of voice indicates that the last of the lot would not be a preferred option.

Nameless is the one who replies, saying, “There is unlikely to be much traffic between Io’lokar and here. Very few people in Khorvaire are capable of the magics necessary to travel here and most of them are in this room. The other methods of travel they might use, such as the airships, would take a very long time to reach here and probably can’t survive the hazards of Argonnessen. They may yet find ways though, should things prove sufficiently profitable.”

“Yeah, those dragonmarked bastards…,” begins Luna, before Nameless shushes her, causing her to growl and subside.

“Pardon me,” says the alienist, continuing to address the Masters, “So any travel here is likely to be at our sufferance and we can restrict or permit it as you wish. We are unlikely to be bringing many people here for the immediate future, as we are Khorvaire’s main line of defense against the forces of Xoriat and that will consume most of our time.” He pauses, making a vague shooing motion at the invisible whippoorwills whose calling is even more annoying than usual, and says, “Assuming we don’t fall in one of the battles.”

Nameless frowns at Korm’s barely _sotto voce_ comment of, “Hey – he’s sounding like me!” and continues, “But make no mistake, if we fall and do not stop Xoriat, they will come here eventually. It might not be until Khorvaire falls or it might be mere minutes from now. You have peace for the moment, but if you do not fight, war will come to you. For the daelkyr are spoiled children who delight in breaking their playthings to see what results. They are currently occupied playing with other toys for now, but they do rapidly grow bored with one toy and soon seek others. They are unreliable and mercurial, but one thing is certain,” he concludes grimly, “The fate of those who fall into their hands is never a pleasant one.”

The Masters again exchange glances and then reply to Nameless’ comments, leading to a detailed discussion. To the alienist’s disappointment and growing irritation, they show little interest in the war in Khorvaire and much more in avoiding any negative repercussions from it. They emphasize to the Angels that they have lived peacefully for centuries and want no turmoil in the city. And while they are amenable to contact with Khorvaire and will let it continue, they will keep a careful eye on trade between Io’lokar and Khorvaire and control who and what travels between the two.

After a short telepathic discussion amongst themselves, the Masters say that the goblin, Dharna, will be in charge of contact with Khorvaire and the details will be handled by him through the Wayfinder Foundation. “As for your war,” Dharna says, “If it impinges further on us then we will – perhaps – have to take a more active role in it.”

Irritated, Nameless drops the diplomatic façade that is so hard for him and snaps, “Of course! Nobody cares until it’s their ass on the line!”

The Masters all frown, except for the half-elf – who has barely participated in the discussion – who smiles. Gareth steps in smoothly before any of them can say anything, “My companion, naturally, is a little disappointed that you cannot be of more aid, considering that our fellow Khorvairans are fighting and dying at the hands of an otherworldly threat. I hope you can understand that.”

Dharna nods and says, “Yes.” Then he looks around at the Angels. “Is there anything else you need to mention?”

“No,” says the unmollified Nameless in a biting tone, “The impending end of the world is all we had to mention.”

The Masters frown more deeply, but before they can speak there is a polite – and loud – cough from the door. One of the stone giants is poking in his head, and he says, “Masters – your pardon, but you should see this.” There is, as the Angels quickly realize, the soft sounds of a commotion outside.

All of the room’s occupants proceed outside the hall to see most of the inhabitants of the Bastion staring off into the distance, as those in the lower circles of Io’lokar are also doing. Miles away, small figures are flying back and forth, and below them the ruins of Io’vakas are exploding again and again, black smoke billowing from the ground.

One of the Arnaaracaex guards standing nearby says, “A dragon flew over the city a minute ago and announced that nobody should leave Io’lokar for the next hour, by order of the Eyes of Siberys.”

The Angels, having a much better idea of what is going on than the others around them, say nothing about the situation, and most of them are quite pleased when the Masters dismiss them a moment later, asking them to stay in touch. After a quick discussion with Tien and Fanil they decide to return to Khorvaire the next afternoon.

As they leave the Bastion, Six takes another look at the dragons ravaging the ruins and snorts mechanically. “Clearly they did not learn anything from their previous attempt to destroy the place.”

After stopping at some of the magical artisans in the city to trade away most of the equipment and the mithral that they found in the ruins, the Angels proceed to Nalyna’s place. The old paladin, who has also been studying the draconic activity above Io’vakas, greets them pleasantly and invites them in. When he asks whether they will stay or not, Nameless says that they would like to stay the night. Nalyna says he’d be happy to have them and is looking forward to hearing more stories of their exploits.

At an opportune moment, Six speaks to Nalyna alone and tells him all about yuan-ti, including the discovery of the Mask, the powers it possessed, and what eventually occurred. Nalyna takes the information with interest but also with equanimity, not seeming at all surprised when the warforged mentions that they didn’t tell the Masters and that he leaves it to the paladin’s discretion whether to tell them or not. 

“I will think about it,” says Nalyna thoughtfully, “But I likely will not have to discuss it with them. But I’m pleased that you trusted me enough to tell me, so thank you. Yuan-ti are anathema to dragons and to this city, perhaps the only thing that would be seen as worse being half-dragons.” 

“Interesting,” says Six. “I will have to learn more about these matters from you, but right now we are busy with other things. We’re leaving tomorrow. Oh, if you get a chance to contact Prine, could you tell him we are? He might want to come along.”

Nalyna promises to do so, before Six and he rejoin the others. When they do, they find Nameless smiling uncharacteristically from ear to ear. “I have a small diversion planned for tomorrow, Nalyna. You might be interested.”

“What kind of diversion?” asks Six.

“Remember the twins leading the aberration army – the ones who escaped us? I’m planning to summon one using a _greater planar binding_ spell. And then…,” he makes a cutting gesture across his throat. 

Once they explain a little more, Nalyna says, “Certainly. It’ll be good to have a little real exercise for once, and this sounds like a worthwhile endeavor. We can use my gymnasium, if you like.”

“We would appreciate that,” says Nameless, “But don’t blame us for any damage to it, okay?”

Nalyna promises not to do so and, after a little more conversation, leaves to make arrangements for dinner. After a good meal, the Angels (except for Six, of course) turn in early, expecting to have a busy morning. Hence none of them notice when a scrying sensor pops into existence, hovering above the sleepers for a few minutes before disappearing.

* * * * * 
The next morning, after a heavy breakfast, the Angels make their preparations, beginning with a _divination_ cast by Gareth. The question he asks is “How best can we defeat the twins?” The answer he receives is – “Use blades of goodness to mar their tarnished flesh. Focus your blows on one, since both will feel the effect. But beware their deaths, for they shall spread destruction around them.”

“That’s not really reassuring,” says Luna, and Korm glances at Nalyna and says, “You’re sure we can use your gymnasium?”

“Yes,” says the paladin. “It’s well-constructed and built to absorb inadvertent damage. I think it’ll be fine.”

“Your loss,” shrugs Korm, with a grin. “So, shall we get ready?”

An hour later, the Angels have made all their preparations and are prepared and waiting with Nalyna in his gymnasium. Multiple protective spells are cast, before Nameless says, “I shall begin now,” and proceeds to cast his spell. The entire process takes ten minutes, near the end of which he warns his allies, so that they can cast even more protections and augmentations.

And then Nameless completes his spell ... and not one but two very surprised looking creatures appear in the center of the room.


----------



## Dilandau Kale

Great update. I'm guessing were getting very close to the unpleasantness that happens.


----------



## shilsen

Dilandau Kale said:


> Great update. I'm guessing were getting very close to the unpleasantness that happens.



Thanks. And yes, we're getting close. The events of this update were in the 87th session of the campaign and things went to hell in a handbasket (again!) in the 89th.


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## carborundum

Unpleasantness? Hmmm... rings a bell... 

/makes mental note to dive into the depths of the thread and read the bits _outside_ the updates.

EDIT: Just read the update. Woah! How dare you do a classic cliffhanger there. Argh! Can't wait for the next bit 

OT: Thanks for the tips - she loved Jaipur. They got a local taxi driver to become their personal guide/ chauffeur for a week and that was great. She knows a film director from Delhi who she looked after during a film festival but he was in Mumbai, unfortunately. Still - taxi driver personal chauffeur FTW!

They also got followed around by lots of teenage boys. She's 6' 2" and blond - no surprise 

Luckily no-one shouted "Behemoth".... 
Now they're in Nepal at about 1600m and regretting all those cigarettes!


----------



## Furby076

*Side note*

Hey all,

Since a lot of you have been reading this story through the years and have an intimate knowledge of our game I wanted to make this happy announcement. I am newly engaged.  I proposed to my fiance' while scuba diving.  If anyone is curious to see it on YouTube.

[ame=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oq5VRVH4xkA]YouTube - Avi & Danielle Scuba Diving Engagement[/ame]


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## carborundum

Wow - that's one cool proposal, Avi! Congratulations to you both 

It seems like she has Absolutely No Idea what you're up to. Sweet!


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Unpleasantness? Hmmm... rings a bell...
> 
> /makes mental note to dive into the depths of the thread and read the bits _outside_ the updates.
> 
> EDIT: Just read the update. Woah! How dare you do a classic cliffhanger there. Argh! Can't wait for the next bit




It's part of the job requirement. Do unto the readers as you would do unto your players 



> OT: Thanks for the tips - she loved Jaipur. They got a local taxi driver to become their personal guide/ chauffeur for a week and that was great. She knows a film director from Delhi who she looked after during a film festival but he was in Mumbai, unfortunately. Still - taxi driver personal chauffeur FTW!
> 
> They also got followed around by lots of teenage boys. She's 6' 2" and blond - no surprise
> 
> Luckily no-one shouted "Behemoth"....
> Now they're in Nepal at about 1600m and regretting all those cigarettes!




Glad to help. I've last been to Nepal (only Kathmandu) a couple decades ago and it was a beautiful place.



carborundum said:


> Wow - that's one cool proposal, Avi! Congratulations to you both
> 
> It seems like she has Absolutely No Idea what you're up to. Sweet!




Don't jump the gun on the congratulations. Remember, Gareth got engaged this year too, and wait till you see what happens to him 

On that note, I'm in the process of preparing to return to the US in a few days, so the next update will likely be delayed for a while.

Lastly, I see we're up past 50 pages and 1000 responses. I was not expecting this campaign or story hour to last this long!


----------



## Dilandau Kale

Speaking of which has the party played any more adventures since the incident?


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## Rackhir

Dilandau Kale said:


> Speaking of which has the party played any more adventures since the incident?




Not in this campaign. He sent us a short "afterwords" a couple of months later.

We did some experimentation with 4e. Shil likes it a lot. Me, not so much.


----------



## shilsen

Dilandau Kale said:


> Speaking of which has the party played any more adventures since the incident?



What Rackhir said. We took a break from 3e and played some 4e, nominally set in Eberron too. I'm a little burned out on 3e after nearly a decade of playing it, plus I'm not a fan of how it handles higher level play. Plus I really like how 4e works for both players and DM, so I'm going to focus on that eventually. But when we get back to this campaign, which'll happen some time after I'm back in the US, we'll be sticking with 3e till it ends.


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## Dilandau Kale

Soooooo any chance of an update soon?


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## shilsen

Dilandau Kale said:


> Soooooo any chance of an update soon?



Working on it, but it'll be a few days. Darn Comcast isn't going to give me internet at home for weeks, which makes things a little complicated.


----------



## shilsen

And here it is...

The two figures that appear in the middle of Nalyna’s gymnasium are just as the Angels remember them – identical creatures, appearing at first glance to be extremely beautiful male humanoids with supple, lithe bodies, naked except for the boots and wrap-around skirts they wear. The effect is spoiled by the large, leathery wings on their backs, similar to those grown by Korm when wearing the aspect of the cloaker, and especially the black pits where their eyes should be. Both creatures have a complicated-looking sigil in their chests, and each has a heavy mace hanging from a loop on his belt.

But what is different from the last time is that the twins are now alone, unprepared, and faced by enemies specifically ready for them. As the former devas look around in surprise, tiny tentacles emerging from their eye-sockets to quest blindly at the air like an earthworm, the Angels rush in. 

The twins are incredibly fast, but not quick enough to beat Gareth and Nameless. The paladin casts a _dimensional anchor_, striking one of their foes and covering him with a gleaming green field of energy which prevents them from escaping magically. With their enemies constrained to stay, Nameless goes for a more direct assault, conjuring up two gigantic earth elementals. The creatures appear on either side of one of the twins, bent over to fit beneath the ceiling of the room, and strike instantly, huge fists smashing into their enemy.

Their target staggers back at the impact and then simply disappears from view. Even though the Angels cannot see him, they see the effects of what he does next, since the wounds on the visible ex-deva disappear. The latter glances at Nameless and Gareth, causing a _blade barrier_ to erupt among the two. As both alienist and paladin leap out of the way of the storm of magical metal, the second twin also disappears.

There is the faintest whisper of movement and Nameless snaps, “They’re both moving! Over there!” and indicates a particular area, his magically heightened vision clearly picking out their position.

“Got it,” says Six calmly, pulling out an object from his magical haversack and opening its shutter. Light flows from the lantern (obtained by the Angels in the lair of the dragon Kallionaxis) and the twins’ _invisibility_ melts away in the brightness. An instant later, Korm and Nalyna fly among them, swords hacking, while Luna’s _faerie fire_ lights them up further, in case they avoid the lantern’s beam. 

Not that she needed to bother. As the twins try to strike back at their foes, a bolt of silver smashes into the closest – the form of Gareth driven by all the power of the Endless Blade. The target shudders as the paladin smites him, looking down with an expression of mild surprise at the blade driven nearly hilt-deep in his chest. The former celestial, long corrupted by the magic of the daelkyr, looks at Gareth wordlessly for a moment … and then explodes into nothingness.

So does his brother, and the two blasts rock the room, putting large cracks into the walls, and then there is silence.

Korm flaps down to the ground and spits out some blood, large bruises already forming across his torso as he completely failed to avoid the blasts*, and swears in orcish. “Sh*t! That hurt! I guess that’s what the divination warned of.” He glances at Nalyna, whose divine protections have enabled him to emerge untouched, just as Gareth has. “Sorry – but we did tell you there’d be damage.”

“I know,” says the elderly paladin, looking around with a mildly rueful expression. “And I have no recriminations. This will be easily repaired.” He looks curiously at the spot their two enemies had occupied, where not a trace of them remains. “That was … interesting. And quick. But I was pleased to be of service. Is there any other help you need in this regard?”

“No,” says Nameless, shaking off the after-effects of the blast, “And I appreciate your help. But,” he pauses thoughtfully, “Could we use this room a little further?”

“How come?” asks Luna.

“I was thinking of using the bowl another time,” explains Nameless, “And this seems a good place to do so, if anything unexpected happens.”

“Unusual? Impossible,” says Six, drawing a guffaw from Korm, but the alienist ignores it. Nalyna simply looks curious and then says, “Of course you may use it. May I ask what bowl this is?”

“A relic of the daelkyr, the masters of the creatures we just slew,” says Nameless. “I have learned some things from it in the past and hope to do so again, but there is always a risk in using it. If you want to take the chance of more action, you could stay and watch.”

“Then I shall do so,” says the half-elven paladin.

While Nalyna and the others watch, Nameless opens a _bag of holding_ and produces the blue crystal bowl – which had ironically once been in the possession of the twins they just destroyed. When he touches it, the alienist feels no effect whatsoever, and he realizes that his _mind blank_ is preventing the item from mentally contacting him – and vice versa. 

Nameless proceeds to dismiss his abjuration and then touches the bowl, this time instantly feeling the jolt of its attempt to warp his mind. But where a normal human being would instantly be driven insane, the feeling is all too natural to the alienist and has little effect. He concentrates, negating the mental assault, and then focuses further, attempting to bend the bowl to his will. After a few moments of effort, he feels himself succeed – and everything goes black.

The others who are watching see Nameless’ eyes roll back in his head till only the whites show, while his lips begin to twitch and move as if he were speaking, though no words emerge. “Something’s wrong,” says Gareth worriedly, and Six nods mechanically. 

“Probably,” says the warforged. “The bowl is also not showing the mist and lights that it does.”

Luna shakes Nameless and frowns as there is no response. The frown deepens as Korm cheerfully says, “Maybe a daelkyr ate his mind through the bowl.”

The Gatekeeper is actually half-correct. 

After a few moments, the blackness clears and Nameless finds himself floating in a gray, misty void. He possesses – as far as he can make out – no body, existing only as pure consciousness. There is movement in the fog before him, within which he can make out a distinctly humanoid form, but he cannot make out details. All that he can see clearly are the two eyes set in the mist-shrouded face – they are his own.

Recognition comes even easier as the figure begins to speak, in a voice which – thought it sounds as if it were coming from a long distance away – is quite distinct. Nameless once used to hear it inside his head and also heard it in the Cyst in the Mournland. It is the daelkyr Antaryami, twin to the trapped Antaratma, and it says, “So, Nameless – or should I say Edgar Thorn? You come to bother me again. After you aided me in the Mournland I thought you would be wise enough to avoid my path. But now you slay my minions, steal my possessions, and come to speak with me?”

_Oh, great!_ Nameless doesn’t let his concern show in his voice, replying cheerfully, “We have a survey for you to fill out. How many residents are there in your household?”

Antaryami emits an exasperated sighs, a sound which causes a sharp pain in the center of Nameless’ invisible brow. Though he says nothing, the daelkyr evidently notices the effect. “See?” it says, in a tone both threatening and triumphant, “Did you really think even your mind can survive contact with mine? I could destroy you right now!” Before Nameless can respond, the daelkyr’s tone shifts to strangely complimentary, perhaps even cajoling. “But I do not wish to destroy you. You are a work of art, Nameless. And you opened Khorvaire to us. Our armies march across your land even now, reaping its people for Xoriat. Because of you! Why then should you fight us? You cannot win!”

Meanwhile, in the world outside Nameless’ mind, the others watch in growing alarm as his rolled-back eyes begin to darken. Then black smoke begins to seep from his nostrils, slowly forming a cloud around him. But through it all, the alienist doesn’t respond to their ministrations in any way.

Inside his mind, Nameless is still engaged with Antaryami. The daelkyr continues speaking, barely letting the alienist get a word in. “Do you think Cyäegha will protect you and your world? The Watcher cares not for such things.” There is a moment’s pause at the harsh laugh from Nameless at the thought of aid from Cyäegha. “And even he does not watch you – and your…,” the daelkyr hesitates as if seeking a word that is alien to it, “…friends as I do. Does Cyäegha know that you are in Argonnessen?”

_He knows a little too much! I wonder if he is reading my mind right now._ Half wondering how to ascertain if that is the case, and half wishing to distract the daelkyr, Nameless breaks in, “You comprehend less than I thought if you imagine that I expect Cyäegha to aid me. As for why I seek what you think of as futile, that too is sadly beyond your comprehension. There is a certain concept we call ‘responsibility’ here on Khorvaire.”

“Responsibility?” The daelkyr’s tone is again that of one exploring an unfamiliar subject.

“Yes,” says Nameless. “I feel a responsibility to some of those around me. They do not know the perils we face. I do. They lack the tools to face these dangers. I do not. And some of their danger comes from my past and my choices. So I feel responsible and I act accordingly. I don’t expect you to understand.” He laughs again. “Anyhow, I have to save the world. As Luna so quaintly puts it, we keep our stuff here.”

“So,” says the daelkyr, “You wander among the people of Io’lokar, even though they will not aid you against me? That is why you seek futilely for allies among the dragons?”

_Damn. He probably is reading my mind. And … perhaps I can do the same in return._ Nameless doesn’t bother to answer, instead putting forth his will and trying to contact the daelkyr’s mind. He instantly has success, sensing an immensely powerful intellect before him. 

But the attempt doesn’t go unnoticed. Antaryami stops speaking instantly and then, after a moment, says, its tone now cold and deadly, “Really? You dare? Then let us put it to the test.”

Nameless feels the strange sensation of the daelkyr’s mind flowing over and around his own, exerting tremendous pressure as it attempts to crush his psyche. Luckily, the tenuous nature of the mental connection makes it easier for the alienist to resist, though he estimates that he can only do so for a short period of time. Nameless exerts his mental powers, holding back the crushing grip of Antaryami’s will even as he attempts to wriggle out from the mental grasp. He succeeds at the former – for the moment – but not the latter.

Outside, just as the daelkyr strikes at Nameless’ mind, the black smoke around his physical body increases drastically in both strength and volume. Swirling up around him, the smoke darkens and thickens, hiding Nameless from view as it solidifies. Luna, who had a hand on his shoulder, is pushed back. “Hey!” she shouts, feeling muscle and cold, ebon flesh under her hands. “What’s going on?”

“That!” shouts Korm, pointing up above her. A gigantic, serpent-like creature rears above the druid, fully thirty feet in length and perhaps a third in breadth. Its body is broken into segments like an earthworm, each bearing a ring of small tentacles. Four longer tentacles, each equal to a human body in size, ring the mouth-like opening at one end of creature’s body, and a giant spine-like tail – equal in length to the largest tentacles extends from the other extremity.

Surprisingly, Gareth is the quickest to respond, slashing into the creature again and again. The dark flesh parts under the edge of the Endless Blade, deep purple blood pouring forth from the wounds. The giant worm jerks at the wounds, drawing a smile from the paladin.

“Nameless didn’t actually turn _into_ that, did he?” asks Nalyna, hesitating for a moment.

“I doubt it,” says Gareth, raising his sword to strike again. “But i…”

He never finishes the sentence, as the worm strikes back, its giant maw snapping shut where he stood. When it rears back up again, Gareth is gone.

“Let’s not discuss the possibilities,” suggests Six, tumbling away from the worm and activating a wand embedded in his arm to _haste_ the group. “Kill the thing before any more of us disappear.”

“Very well,” says Nalyna, moving forward to attack as Gareth did. As he strikes, spells from Luna and Korm hit right above his head, burning and further wounding the creature. 

The worm flagellates at the various wounds, but before it can retaliate, a shape appears behind it. The figure is wounded and battered, his form dripping with purple fluid so that his features are almost hidden, but it is clearly Gareth. The paladin calls on the Silver Flame and brings down the Endless Blade over and over, gleaming with argent fire. The worm shudders at each blow and finally collapses limply to the floor as the final blow severs it into two halves, the others jumping out of the way of the falling bulk.

Trapped inside his own mind, Nameless has no idea what is occurring outside, but he feels a sudden slackening of the grip in his psyche. Again he tries to break free but to no avail, and now tiredness begins to set in. Growing steadily more concerned, Nameless racks his mind for another way to escape, and something tells him that his spells – which he is certain that he cannot use as normal – are an option. Nameless concentrates, letting one of his most powerful spells fade from his mind, and instantly feels energized as the released magical energy flows into him.

But for only a moment, as he feels the daelkyr seize upon it**. “Very clever, Nameless,” says its mental voice, “But not quick enough. You are in my realm now. See?” The crushing mental pressure increases and only the momentary increase in energy that Nameless just received lets him resist it.

Outside, Korm chuckles at Gareth’s return. “You’re back, I see. Did you get swallowed? I couldn’t tell.”

“Yes,” says Gareth, wiping slime off himself. “By the Flame, that hurt like Dolurrh!” He glances at Nalyna. “Luckily, that _dimension door_ your people use works here too. So I popped out and…,” he gestures dismissively at the pieces of the worm.

Which immediately rolls over and smashes all four of the large tentacles into him, bruising muscle and bone and taking him off his feet. 

Gareth cries out at the completely unexpected attack and looks up to see that the second half of the worm is in motion too. Its spine-like tail flashes down at his helpless form – and is intercepted in mid-strike by Luna’s body as she reflexively throws herself across him***. 

She screams as the spike rams through her body, shooting a dark poison into her that only her druidic immunity lets her resist. A second later Nalyna, Korm and Six leap onto the creature’s halves, hacking and slashing.

At the same time, Nameless feels a minor shift in the power of the mental grip on him. Realizing that using his prepared spell energy can help but is also something that Antaryami can absorb and block, the alienist comes up with another idea. He attempts to channel the energy of a quickened spell, discovering that it is as quick to use as when casting such a spell. Again, he feels a momentary surge which is almost instantly leeched away by the daelkyr.

And as it does so, Nameless releases the energy of his most powerful spell. The arcane power surges through him, and he realizes – just as he had hoped – that the daelkyr cannot react quickly enough to steal this energy in time. Nameless draws in as much of the released power as he can gather and then exerts himself in a huge mental effort. This time it works. There is a sudden release of pressure, the attendant sense of freedom punctuated by a fading snarl of frustration from Antaryami which sends a stabbing pain through Nameless’ mind.

The alienist opens his eyes, only to groan in pain and look down to find himself almost cut into half. Korm standing over him with a surprised expression, hurriedly lowers his blade and reaches down to cast a _heal_. “Damn, Nameless – what happened? One moment we’re fighting that weird black worm and then you’re in its place.”

“What worm?” asks Nameless, staggering to his feet.

“It’s complicated,” says Six, looking him carefully in the face. “Good eyes.”

“They’re completely black,” says Nalyna, walking up. “What happened?”

“Also complicated,” says Nameless, “But, in short, I met the daelkyr. And the bowl is compromised, as I expected would happen.” The alienist looks down at the innocuous-looking crystal object and gestures, sending an empowered _disintegrate_ into it. There is an anti-climactically soft puffing sound and it falls apart into a small pile of dust.

With the bowl disposed of, Nameless explains to the others in some detail what happened to him. Having done so, he says, “I picked up a little information while I was in mental contact with the daelkyr. I’m fairly certain that Antaryami is still on Xoriat and was able to communicate with me across the planes due to the now open connection between Khorvaire and Xoriat. Even with my usage of the bowl, that sort of communication would have been impossible earlier. I also got the impression that the daelkyr was hiding something and wasn’t quite as pleased or confident as he wanted me to think he was.” The alienist strokes his forehead gingerly, since he has developed a fairly painful headache. “I think it very likely, though I can’t be certain, that he gained some knowledge from my mind too.”

Gareth has been eyeing Nameless suspiciously for a few moments, and suddenly his eyes begin to glow with the characteristic silver light which appears when he detects for evil or for someone’s thoughts. While the others turn to him in surprise, Nameless frowns. “What are you doing?”

“Just checking on you,” says the paladin. “Something seems awry since you returned. This’ll just take a moment.”

“You could have asked,” says Nameless, beginning to walk back and forth, which he knows makes it difficult for Gareth to gain any information even with his particularly specialized abilities. “Anyhow, I’m fine.”

“Maybe,” says Gareth, frowning, “But I’d like to know for sure. Now hold still, please.”

“I’d rather not,” says Nameless, before turning to Nalyna. “Thank you for your hospitality. I shall have to leave now. We are heading back to Sharn shortly, but I’m sure we will return again soon.”

Nalyna inclines his head and says, “You are always welcome,” with a bemused look in his eyes.

Nameless turns to the others and says, “Let’s head outside, shall we? See you on the road.” And disappears, using Io’lokar’s _dimension door_ power.

The others quickly follow, joining Nameless outside Nalyna’s house. Gareth and Nameless promptly proceed to have an argument about whether the alienist needs to let Gareth examine his thoughts or not. Nameless utterly refuses to let the paladin do so, continuing to move around Gareth when he tries to focus on him and successfully resisting the power when he does.

“Damn it!” Gareth growls in frustration, turning to the others, “Make him listen to me!”

Korm, who has been watching with growing amusement, chuckles and says, “How do you expect us to do that? And don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“No, I don’t!” snaps the paladin, “Considering the things we are dealing with, we need to be certain that Nameless hasn’t been taken over or…”

Six says dryly, “Yes, it would be horrifying if any of us had been tainted by our contact with strange, eldritch horrors. Oh, wait…”

Nameless chuckles harshly at the warforged’s witticism and says, “Listen – I just don’t appreciate you probing around me. And I’m certainly not letting you into my head. So you’ll just have to trust me.”

“And you need to trust me! Us!” says Gareth hotly, “If you don’t, I’m … I’m … not returning to Khorvaire with you.”

“Fine by me,” shrugs Nameless. 

A few minutes later, the Angels stand in a loose circle around Nameless, along with the two members of the Wayfinder Foundation – or at least all of the Angels save Gareth. The paladin stands nearby, with a dark expression and his arms folded across his chest.

“Come on, Gareth,” says Luna, “Won’t you drop it and come back with us? How about letting him check your thoughts for just a minute, Nameless?”

“No,” say both the alienist and the paladin at once. Nameless follows with a cheerful wave at Gareth and then transports himself and his passengers away, leaving a fuming Gareth behind.




* And ate 100 pts of damage instantly.

** Mechanically, each spell Nameless was burning gave him a bonus on his opposed Int check against the daelkyr equal to its level, so he was on close to even terms. But thanks to Rackhir’s stellar rolling, he burned through all his 8th and a couple of 7th level spells before he broke free.

*** The attack would have taken him to -14, except for Luna using a swashbuckling card to take his damage instead.


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## Dilandau Kale

Excellent It all falls into place...


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## Furby076

carborundum said:


> Wow - that's one cool proposal, Avi! Congratulations to you both
> 
> It seems like she has Absolutely No Idea what you're up to. Sweet!




Thank you. And no she had no clue. While we had discussed marriage I would never tell her if I was interested and she would always ask if I was planning to at some point (months, years, w/e).



shilsen said:


> Don't jump the gun on the congratulations. Remember, Gareth got engaged this year too, and wait till you see what happens to him




Shil is a sadist.


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## carborundum

Yikes! Waht on earth was that about? The daelkyr took over Nameless body? And made it even freakier than it already is - eek!
And Nameless & Gareth have had a serious falling out/ disagreement/ tiff. It's only because they care =)


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## carborundum

Yikes! What on earth was that about? The daelkyr took over Nameless body? And made it even freakier than it already is - eek!
And Nameless & Gareth have had a serious falling out/ disagreement/ tiff. It's only because they care =)


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## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> Yikes! Waht on earth was that about? The daelkyr took over Nameless body? And made it even freakier than it already is - eek!




I think, it was more like Nameless being used as a conduit, but you know just as much as we do about exactly what happened.



carborundum said:


> And Nameless & Gareth have had a serious falling out/ disagreement/ tiff. It's only because they care =)




Actually, if he'd just bothered to ask first, Nameless would have been fine with Gareth checking him out. But Gareth being Gareth, doesn't understand the concept of "manners" or that other people might not like him demanding they do what ever the hell it is he wants.


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## carborundum

LOL - What is it about paladins and their insufferable belief that they are not only right, but that no one else can also be right (or have a point) at the same time?


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## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> LOL - What is it about paladins and their insufferable belief that they are not only right, but that no one else can also be right (or have a point) at the same time?




It's probably one of those "Which came first" questions. Does playing a paladin get people to act like that or does getting to act like that attract people to the paladins. Probably something of both. Gareth is the Champion of the Silver Flame after all.

Just ask come within earshot of him and he'll tell you.

I probably should have pointed out that if there was some eldrich evil controlling Nameless, it would make his brains run out of his ears, like the times he used his powers on the Ziggurat.

That would have gotten him to stop post haste...

He did NOT like what it did to him the times he did that.


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## carborundum

THAT's what I should have said! Wow-ee! What a zinger...

... he'd be laughing on the oth...

...guys?

...guys?


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## Dilandau Kale

Ooooohhh cant wait for the next one.


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## shilsen

Apologies for the delay, but I've been busy with college work. On the brighter side, we just had our first session of the Eberron game after a long hiatus, and it was amusing as hell. Let's just say that the Angels have decided to hit Xoriat with Thronehold (capital of the empire of Galifar when it governed Khorvaire). Literally.


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## carborundum

Great news! Can't wait, Shil & Angels!


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## shilsen

When the Guardian Angels (sans Gareth) arrive at the Gray House, they are met by first Fett and then Trillia, who is more or less permanently ensconced there now. Fett informs the Angels that he received a message from the Redcloak commander about a pair of lizardmen arriving at the outskirts of Sharn claiming to bear a message for the Angels. They are currently being held by the Redcloaks in the main city jailhouse.

After a short rest and exchange of news, the Angels proceed to find these messengers. They find them to be a male and female, both wearing body paint which they had seen while battling the armies in Q’barra. Only the female, who identifies herself as Kim’iir and seems to be the senior of the two, can speak a heavily accented form of the Common tongue, but both are fluent in Draconic. Neither of them seems to be particularly perturbed about being in captivity, and Kim’iir says that they were sent by Rhashaak, whom she calls “the holy one”. The male, Vulat, clarifies that they were specifically dispatched by Huu’rak, the Voice of Rhashaak, who ordered them to “find the Guardian Angels in Sharn and ask them to come to Haka’torvhak.” The two lizardfolk, both of whom are apparently druids, have been traveling for over a fortnight in search of the Angels using their magical abilities. 

“I wasn’t expecting a message from Rhashaak,” Nameless says dryly, “But in view of our past I’m not surprised. Can you tell us why he wants us?”

“I know only what Huu’rak told us, mighty one,” says Kim’iir respectfully. “The holy one seeks aid against the invaders from beyond. If you do not help, then perhaps the holy one will fall, and the great evil he guards will be unleashed into this world.”

Korm chuckles sardonically and looks around. “Hands up, everyone who expects that there’s a dimensional seal as part of this story!”

As the lizardfolk look at the Gatekeeper in seeming confusion, Nameless says, “What sort of invaders are these? And just so I’m clear, Rhashaak is a giant black dragon, right?”

“Yes, the holy one is one of the scaled gods. As for the invaders, we have not seen them. But we have heard the holy one battle them in the depths of his temple. Huu’rak said that they came from beyond this world.” She hesitates and then says, “We do not know what that means.”

“Oh, we do!” responds Luna excitedly. “See, there are all these different worlds, right? And Xoriat is thi…”

“Please, Luna,” Nameless quickly cuts her off. “Try not to make the poor lizardfolk’s heads explode.”

Six, meanwhile, address Kim’iir. “Can you tell us anything about your recent war on the humans? Rhashaak ordered that – right?”

The lizardwoman hesitates, clearly not wanting to risk giving offense, and then carefully answers, “The holy one ordered us to go to war to take back the land that was ours. It belonged to us before the humans came.” She hesitates again and then says, “We do not know the holy one’s plans – only what we are told by Huu’rak. If you wish to know more you must come with us. Will you?”

Nameless says, “One moment,” and then moves away to confer with his companions. After a quick discussion, the Angels decide that it might be profitable to comply with the request, since it may give them more information and possibly allies. “And maybe he has treasure! Especially wall hangings,” opines Luna optimistically, which nobody else responds to.

Returning to the lizardfolk, Nameless says, “We will come with you. Tomorrow. Until then, you’ll have to wait here.”

The lizardfolk look disappointedly around the cell that they are in and then bow. “Thank you.”

After instructing the guards to be as hospitable as they can be to the lizardfolk, the Angels head back to the Gray House. There, Nameless fills in Trillia on the _rod of planar summoning_ which the Angels recovered from Kallionaxis’ hoard and asks her to do some research for him on possible powerful pseudonatural creatures whom he might summon. 

Afterwards, the alienist visits the local house Sivis station and dispatches a message to Jaela Daran, informing her about the _rod_ too and explaining that the Angels are about to attack the ziggurat. He requests the name of a particularly powerful celestial, such as a planetar, who she thinks might help in this area. Nameless adds that he and the others will visit her in Flamekeep the next morning.

The Angels spent the rest of the evening relaxing and making plan, as well as catching up on news around Khorvaire – especially any that pertains to the war. The situation has not changed much in the four days since they last departed for Argonnessen, but things are going slightly better for the nations of Khorvaire, which are slowly pushing back the aberration armies. Thrane especially seems to be doing well, which the Angels hope means that Jaela will have a little more leisure to help them.

* * * * * 
The next morning, Luna and Six return to Io’lokar, where they meet Gareth and explain to the paladin that he’s a pain in the ass, that they are going to Thrane and then Q’barra, and that they’d like him along. Having calmed down from his anger at Nameless, the paladin agrees to accompany them. 

When they return to Sharn, Gareth asks the alienist politely, albeit a little grumpily, if he will allow the paladin to cast a few divinations at him. “Certainly,” says Nameless, with a slight smirk, “All you had to do was ask.”

“I won’t,” says Gareth, “And I’ll actually check about whether it would be a good idea to do so. I don’t want a repeat of that giant black worm, whatever it was.”

“In that case,” suggests Nameless, “Could you ask whether it would be safe to cast a _commune_ about the ziggurat? I’d like to know more about that as well.”

Gareth looks a little concerned at the idea, having bad memories of divinatory magic aimed at the ziggurat, but agrees to do so. He begins with an _augury_ about doing a _divination_ on Nameless and then one about casting a _commune_ about the ziggurat. The answer to both questions is *“Weal.”*

After mentioning what the result was, Gareth asks, “Any suggestions for questions?”

“Why not ask how you can best help Nameless work against Xoriat?” suggests Korm.

“All right.” Gareth casts his spell and asks the question. The solemn voice which he associates with the Silver Flame speaks in his mind, replying, *“Nameless is the key, to allowing Xoriat fully into Eberron, or locking it forever out of your world. But so are you all. The key cannot be turned except by the aid of the Guardian Angels, for good or for ill. Trust and work together. You will fall or rise as one.”*

 When told what the answer was, Nameless grimaces slightly and rasps, “For once, I would just like to be the second on the left, instead of the Chosen One.”

Korm grins at him and says, “Hey, you’re special. Deal with it!”

“What about Q’barra?” Luna asks Gareth. “Can you ask if this Rhashaak has any good stuff? Can we trust him? Should we kill him?”

“Or perhaps just ask whether we should go to Q’barra first or to the ziggurat?” suggests Six.

“Yes,” Nameless puts in quickly, before Luna can add more. “That would be useful information.”

“Done,” says Gareth, beginning his next spell. When he finishes, the reply he gets is: *“All ways are dark. Power lies with the mad wyrm, power to aid your cause. But time aids the daelkyr’s cause too. Choose one path and follow it to the end.”* 

“Not that helpful,” says Six, “But that is very standard. Shall we try the _commune_, anyway?”

“Why not? Gareth already prepared the spell,” says Korm, before grinning, “Plus I want to see if his brain runs out his ears again!”

“Thank you,” says the paladin bitterly, before taking a deep breath. “But I’m willing to try it. I can ask thirteen questions.”

“Good,” says Nameless. “Then we can ask about Rhashaak too.”

“All right.” Gareth casts his spell and begins to ask questions.

“Is Rhashaak going to betray us if we go to help him?”

*“Not if you truly aid him.”*

“Is there something he would be likely to do to help us against the ziggurat?”

*“Yes.”*

“That’s good to know,” says Nameless. “I have a bad feeling about the ziggurat. Here’s something else I’m concerned about, considering what we were told about those twin fallen devas serving the bound daelkyr lord Kyrzin. Ask if Kyrzin is likely to be found at the ziggurat.”

Gareth does so and the reply is, *“No.”*

“Will a _master earth_ get us to the ziggurat without trouble?”

*“No.”*

“Will the ziggurat complete whatever it will in less than a month?”

*“Yes.”*

“Will the ziggurat complete whatever it will in less than a week?”

*“Yes.”*

“Will the ziggurat complete whatever it will in the next 24 hrs?”

*“Unclear.”*

“Will the ziggurat complete whatever it will in less than 3 days?”

*“Unclear.”*

“Will the ziggurat complete whatever it will in less than 5 days?”

*“Unclear.”*

“Okay, can we stop asking about time?” grumbles Luna. “This stupid spell is not helpful there!”

“How about this,” suggests Korm, “Does their plan require us to go there for it to succeed?”

Gareth relays the spell’s answers: *“It would help.”*

“Great!” says Korm. “Will the universe be safer if Nameless killed himself right now?”

As some of the others look at the Gatekeeper with amusement, Gareth asks the question and then replies, *“No.”*

“I could have told you that,” rasps Nameless. “There’s no way it would be that easy. Next question – is there a specific procedure we need to use to destroy the ziggurat?”

*“No.”*

“Good. So, one more question. Perhaps…,” the alienist begins, but Gareth cuts him off as he asks, “Am I a paladin of the Silver Flame?”

As Korm chortles at the question, Gareth nods and repeats, his expression simultaneously relieved and concerned, *“Currently.”*

“Hah! I think the Silver Flame has a sense of humor!” says Korm.

Gareth shrugs, looking faintly embarrassed, and says, “It seemed a good idea. And that’s the end of the spell. So what next?”

“Next we go to Thrane,” says Nameless, “But I just remembered someone we decided to contact – the vampires in Undersharn.”

“Oh, yeah!” says Luna excitedly. “They were nice! Can we visit them?”

“We don’t have time for that,” says Nameless, “But I’ll contact them via _sending_.” He casts the spell, focusing on the vampire leader Mina, and delivers his message: “Hope you are fine after Xoriat’s attacks. Can you speak to Calderus and ask for aid? Also, could you warn of incursions from below Sharn?”

A few moments later, he receives Mina’s response: “We are hiding. Have fought aberrations. Will kill any we see. Am confident Calderus would oppose Xoriat. Will attempt to contact her.” 

The alienist tells the others what Mina replied, adding, “It’s a small thing, but every little bit helps. And…”

He stops as there’s a polite knock, followed by Fett sticking his head around the door. “Sorry to interrupt,” says the Angels’ major-domo, “But the people from the Wayfinder Foundation are here to speak to you.” 

The Angels descend to meet the visitors, who turn out to be Tiem and Fanil, the two Wayfinders who went to Argonnessen with them. Tiem explains that they are here to ask when the Angels will be able to take them back to Argonnessen, so that they can prepare accordingly. 

Nameless smiles mirthlessly and says, “It’s quite possible we might be dead soon, but otherwise we will be happy to help.” As the surprised Wayfinders stare at him, he says, “We’ll probably be busy for a few days, so why don’t you stop back in a week and we’ll have a better idea when we can return?”

The Wayfinders are clearly disappointed, but they nod and say that they will stop by a few days later to see what the Angels’ situation is.

 Once they have left, Luna says, “Let’s go. I’m getting bored, so if anyone else shows up and starts asking for stuff or for us to do things, I might bite them.”

“And that’s the best reason for moving quickly that I’ve heard,” says Nameless dryly. “Let’s pick up our passengers and go.”

The Angels stop at the jail and pick up the lizardfolk – and then inform them that they need to sit in the _portable hole_ while the Angels travel to Thrane. Though clearly uncomfortable at the idea, Kim’iir asks, “This is safe? And later you will come to Haka’torvhak with us?” 

“Yes, we will. But first we need to go take care of something, which will enable us to accompany you.”

“Very well. We will do what you wish.” The lizardfolk descend into the _portable hole_ and Nameless picks it up, before transporting the entire group to Flamekeep.

There, after making sure that the lizardfolk are safely bestowed somewhere in the Cathedral of the Silver Flame, the Angels are quickly brought before Jaela Daran. The Keeper of the Silver Flame greets them and spends a short time filling the Angels in on what has occurred in Khorvaire since they left. Little of it is new, other than some details about the success of the Thranish armies in driving back aberration attacks and the fact that forces are being amassed by Thrane (and some other countries) on the borders of the Mournland because many of the attacks seem to emerge from there. The Angels, in turn, tell her about everything that occurred with them since they left. Jaela listens with great interest, asking about a few things, especially regarding the now-destroyed bowl and Nameless’ mental contact with the daelkyr. 

She is also quite interested about their impending visit to Q’barra, though she expresses no opinion about it other than to say, “I believe your skills would be very helpful in the battles occurring across Khorvaire, but if you can find a way, in Argonnessen or in Q’barra, to more permanently end this conflict, then you should certainly explore it.” The eleven-year old girl sighs, momentarily looking substantially older and more tired than she physically is, and says, “The Silver Flame tells me that your actions will make a great difference to this conflict and I,” she smiles a little, “Am not about to disbelieve it.” 

“Thank you,” rasps Nameless. “We do our best, though I could sometimes do without the responsibility. Anyway, as you know from my last _sending_, I’m hoping you can help us. I’m concerned about what we will find at the ziggurat. We barely came out of the last visit alive, and I’m presuming this time will be even more dangerous. I want to take as much backup with us as we can. Can you recommend something – or someone – to summon?”

Jaela clearly hesitates and then says, “Yes, I can, but I should point out first that the vast majority of celestials – and extraplanar creatures – have no interest in the doings of Eberron. So it is difficult to think of many which would help here without substantial coercion. With that caveat, I consider one good possibility to be Enitharmon*. He is a particularly militant planetar from Shavarath, who has performed services for the Silver Flame in the past, well before my time. Not that he’s a worshipper of the Flame, however, since the Flame has no worshippers outside Eberron. But he might be amenable to your request. I will give you access to an area from which you can summon him, if you wish.”

“I would appreciate that,” says Nameless.

“Very well.”

A quarter of an hour later, the Angels stand with Jaela in a huge chamber near the large summoning circle in its center, watching as Nameless uses the magical rod from Argonnessen. As the spell is completed there is a faint shimmering in the circle’s center, along with a momentary glimpse of a reddish sky and what seems to be a fortified wall with battlements. Then the scene disappears, leaving behind a nine foot tall green humanoid with a hairless head, wearing gleaming silver armor and wielding a two-handed sword from which dark blood still drips.

The figure throws a wrathful glance around the chamber, focusing quickly on Nameless. “You! How dare you summon me now? I was in the middle of battle. Where is this place?”

“This is Eberron, mighty Enitharmon,” replies Jaela quickly, “At the Cathedral of the Silver Flame, where I believe you have been in the past. We would not call you unless there was dire need. There is a great war here too, one where we could use a warrior of your prowess. But Nameless here can explain specifically why he called you.”

The planetar seems somewhat mollified at Jaela’s tone, and the alienist quickly begins to explain. Gareth winces slightly at the harshness of his tones, knowing that Nameless cannot help sounding unnaturally rough and wondering whether the planetar will take it amiss. And Enitharmon does frown as soon as Nameless explains who they are, but more as if he is attempting to recollect something than in anger. “The Guardian Angels? Sharn?”

“Yes, and we…”

“Wait!” interrupts the planetar, “Are you the ones who defeated the fool Zokar and returned him to Syrania?”

“Who’s Zokar?” asks Luna.

“Zokar was the Radiant Idol,” Nameless says, “The fallen angel whose cult of Cyrans we dissolved and whom we killed in the sewers … seven months ago.”

“So it _was_ you!” Enitharmon beams. “You didn’t actually kill Zokar, since he couldn’t be slain permanently in your – this – world. The fool was actually under my command before he had delusions, was cast down and fled to your world. I was pleased to destroy him when you sent him back. He described you in great detail before I did so. That was … amusing.” A fierce smile spreads across the planetar’s countenance, and then turns slightly less vicious as he says, “This is also an amusing coincidence. I will help you.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it being a coincidence,” Six mutters, while Nameless bows awkwardly and says, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” says the planetar. “I may ask you for recompense of some kind later. But, for now, what do I have to battle?” He spins his greatsword in an arc and smiles in anticipation. 

“We will be going on a very dangerous quest soon,” explains Nameless, “Where we will likely face many powerful enemies. We would like you to accompany us on it until the end, which should only take a day or two at most.” 

“So you don’t need me for anything right now?” frowns the celestial.

“No, but I wished to speak to you now and ask your permission to call you when we begin our quest.”

Enitharmon continues to frown for a few moments, but then his expression clears and he nods. “Very well.” He raises his greatsword and says, “Now send me back. I have foes to slay!”

“Of course.” Nameless produces a red gem and extends it to the planetar, saying, “Please take this. It will let us communicate with you.” Once Enitharmon takes it, the alienist ends the spell, causing the planetar to disappear instantly. The alienist breathes deeply and turns to the Keeper. “Thank you for your help, Jaela. We will return here after we’re done with Rhashaak, to collect Enitharmon.” 

“Certainly,” Jaela replies. “Would you like to rest here in Flamekeep or will you leave now?”

“Now, I think,” says Nameless. “We have no real reason to stop, and I’d like to know why we were called to Haka’torvhak.”

“All right.”

A few minutes later, the Angels are reunited with the two lizardfolk. Nameless asks for a good location in Haka’torvhak to travel to, so Kim’iir provides a very detailed description of a stone altar and some buildings around it. Once the two passengers are in the _portable hole_, the alienist casts a _greater teleport_.

The Angels appear right next to the altar mentioned, a large cracked stone slab decorated with deep carvings of astrological and other signs. It is situated within a large, open courtyard in the middle of an ancient city. The surrounding buildings are mostly broken, some of them overgrown with vegetation, their distinctive shapes such as the Angels have not seen for a long time – at least not since they saw the island where they found the Key and the ruins of the Demon Wastes.

Not that they have time to focus on architectural issues. Around them sit or stand two dozen large lizardfolk, their black wings and size identifying them as the same species that the Angels fought in their previous battles in Q’barra. The ogre-sized creatures bare their fangs and raise their weapons at the advent of the strangers.

“Crap!” says Gareth.

“Everybody stick together,” says Six.

“Cool!” says Luna.


* Yup, if you think you recognize the name, you probably do. Thanks, Sepulchrave.


----------



## Dilandau Kale

Very nice although I'm guessing the chapter was split in two since I seem to recall you saying there was an Incident in your last game before you all had to stop for a while (Admittedly I am interpreting Incident as beat down but I could be wrong.)


----------



## carborundum

Whooo! Nice one! I'm so happy the story has started agani 

And Enitharmon sounds like a great guy - Luna must love him already!


----------



## shilsen

Dilandau Kale said:


> Very nice although I'm guessing the chapter was split in two since I seem to recall you saying there was an Incident in your last game before you all had to stop for a while (Admittedly I am interpreting Incident as beat down but I could be wrong.)




The latest writeup is only part of a session, but that's because we were doing a ton of stuff every session by this point. The beatdown (and you're right about that) happened in session 89 of the campaign. The writeup I posted is the first half of session 88. 



carborundum said:


> Whooo! Nice one! I'm so happy the story has started agani
> 
> And Enitharmon sounds like a great guy - Luna must love him already!




She did, but he didn't have enough shiny stuff for her. So they're just good friends now.


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## Rackhir

shilsen said:


> She did, but he didn't have enough shiny stuff for her. So they're just good friends now.




You know for a guy with a 22 int and a 23 wisdom. He wasn't very bright.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:


> You know for a guy with a 22 int and a 23 wisdom. He wasn't very bright.



Luna's got a 28 Wis now (and a 16 Int), and you've seen the results of that!

And here is the second update in 4 days!

* * * * * * * * * *
As the blackscale guardians of Haka’torvhak prepare to leap upon the intruders, Nameless quickly begins to explain – using the draconic tongue which they speak – that they are the Guardian Angels and have been summoned there by Rhashaak. His words seem to give the creatures pause, or perhaps it is the pair of Korm and Gareth, one of whom begins to glow brightly with silver flame while the other exudes two cloak-like wings from his shoulders as they brandish their swords. Or, most likely, the sight of Luna expanding swiftly into the monstrous form of a huge tendriculos, which dwarfs everything in the courtyard.* 

Six, meanwhile, quickly drops the _portable hole_ on the ground and opens it up, to let Kim’iir and Vulat out. Once they emerge, the pair of them quickly instruct the other, larger, lizardfolk to stand down. The blackscales do so, albeit with suspicious muttering among them. 

The suspicion turns into a wary fascination when Kim’iir explains (while Vulat leaves to announce the Angels’ arrival) that these are the warriors who had engaged – and broken – their armies over a month ago. Naturally, word of the Angels and their deeds has traveled back to Haka’torvhak. And grown in the telling, it seems.

One of the blackscales turns to another and says, “That one is smaller than you said,” indicating Korm, “And you said he had three heads!”

Nameless smirks at the statement and – as is his habit – corrects the blackscale’s grammar, which draws surprised and confused looks from the guardians. Another begins, gesturing at Luna, “You said that it was fat, bu…,” and is immediately hushed by Korm, who explains, “If you want to stay alive – and keep this dump … er, holy city safe, ix-nay on mentioning anything about that.”

The blackscale who was just shushed growls irritably at the Gatekeeper, while Luna (who, luckily, speaks no draconic), looking down at the others from her tremendous height, growls, “What was that about? What did he say? Can I eat him? When is something going to happen?”

Luckily, before Luna’s small store of patience totally runs out, Vulat returns, accompanied by a much older lizardman, of the same species as him. Huu’rak, the Voice of Rhashaak, leans on a carved staff as he studies the Angels for a few seconds. Then he says, “You are welcome to Haka’torvhak, great warriors, as guests of the Holy One. You are his guests and no harm will come to you here,” he continues, glancing around at the blackscales, some of whom have been muttering at his opening words. As they subside, he gestures at one of the buildings behind him. “Please, follow me and I will take you to the Holy One.” There is renewed muttering among the blackscales, who – according to what the Angels were told – almost never get to speak to Rhashaak personally themselves, but they again fall silent as Huu’rak glances around them.

The Angels follow the Voice of Rhashaak as he leads them towards the building, neither Kim’iir nor Vulat accompanying them. As they walk, Luna – having been persuaded to attain the relatively smaller shape of a bear for convenience – says, “So, Huu...whatever, what does your boss want with us? The other lizard said he has Xoriat problems.”

“It is not for me to speak for the Holy One,” replies Huu’rak urbanely in understandable Common, “Unless he instructs me to. He will tell you what he wishes when you see him.”

Nameless, having used his magical sight to study the staff Huu’rak carries as well as the minor magical items adorning the lizardman, says quietly to the others as they walk, “He’s carrying items from the Age of Demons. And the architecture here certainly resembles that period.” 

“Demons?” asks Luna, her preternatural hearing having caught the whispers in the rear, “Where? Do they have any treasure?” As Huu’rak stops to stare at her and her companions, she continues, “Does Rhashaak have any treasure? Anything he’d be happy to give us?”

Huu’rak continues to stare for a few moments and then says, “You will … have to ask the Holy One yourself. You can ask him about demons yourself.” He turns to continue onwards and then pauses. “When you meet him, please be respectful. The god Rhashaak does not brook rudeness.”

“Wait, he’s a god? I didn’t know tha….”

Nameless, swiftly having cast a _telepathic bond_, interrupts Luna’s questions over the link. “_Luna, can you please let someone else do the talking? Especially when we get to Rhashaak!_”

The bear visibly bristles but then she growls back over the link, “_Fine! I’ll be patient! Just make sure to ask about payment for whatever we’re doing, okay?_”

“_Certainly._”

After that exchange, the Angels continue to follow Huu’rak. The lizardman leads them into one of the better preserved buildings and to a large empty hall. Walking up to a seemingly blank stretch of wall, he raps on it with his staff, causing a large panel to slide soundlessly aside. Beyond are stairs leading down into darkness. Huu’rak says, “Please follow me,” and heads down them.

The Angels follow him, proceeding down the staircase and along the huge stone tunnel, nearly twenty feet wide and high, at the bottom. The tunnel twists and turns, with other tunnels opening off it as it extends beneath the city. Huu’rak seems to have no trouble navigating the maze and, within a few moments, brings the Angels to a stop at a huge stone door. 

He raises his staff and knocks on it. Immediately, there is a mighty roar from beyond it which shakes the stones, followed by words in a thunderous voice – “Huu’rak! What is it?”

“The people you wanted are here, Holy One,” says Huu’rak respectfully, “The ones you called the Guardian Angels.” 

“Really?” The tone is only faintly softer than before, but there is clear curiosity and pleasure in it. “Send them in! And you may go.”

Huu’rak turns and genuflects to the Angels, before saying, “Enter, please. I hope to see you again.” With that reassuring sentiment, he turns and walks away.

The Angels exchange glances and then, at a message from Nameless, Luna steps forward to shove the door open.

The chamber beyond is large and bare of furnishings, but its contents make it distinctive enough. It is unclear how large it is, since one end of the room is completely filled by what all of the Angels recognize as a portal, full of a chaotic whirl of colors, which constantly shift and change. In front of the rip in the fabric that separates the planes is a pile of corpses. One seems to be an illithid and another is probably one of the winged giants that the Angels saw emerging from the portal in the Mournland, but it is difficult to say for sure, since they are mostly dissolved. Acid drips from and pools around the cadavers. 

Standing near the corpses is a gigantic black dragon, fully as large as Xagygyrag, but with brightly glowing – if now slitted – red eyes. The segmented horns above the huge skeletal head are also thicker than the guardian of the Black Well possessed. There is a distinct flavor of brimstone around it, which blends interestingly with the smell of acid that surrounds it, the acrid scent filling the enclosed space . 

“_Great!_” thinks Nameless, transmitting over the link too, “_It’s not just a big black dragon._”

“_No?_” thinks back Luna, “_It sure looks like a big black dragon._”

“_Yes. But it also happens to be half-fiendish! On the positive side, he’s almost certainly evil, so we can probably trust him._”

The dragon stares at the Angels through narrowed eyes for a few moments, before it finally bares rows of giant fangs and speaks. Its voice is deeply resonant and powerful, with a commanding tone. “I’m pleased that you’re here, though I would have appreciated it more if you abased yourself before me. No matter. I need you to go through … that,” he gestures at the portal, “And close it from the other side.”

There is silence for a long moment, and then Korm says, “Say what?”

 “Go through the stupid portal to Xoriat,” says Rhashaak, the tone losing its power as it becomes swiftly petulant, “And destroy it. I’m sick of guarding this place! And hungry. These aberrations taste like … ghaaargh!” He follows with a gurgling sound which causes those before him to step back quickly at the acidic gases released.

Gareth, protected somewhat from the smell by his _necklace of adaptation_, steps forward and asks, “Could you explain a bit more? I’d like to be certain of the situation here and what we will be doing for you.”

The dragon nods his huge head and says, “Very well. Sit!” He sits too, folding his giant legs under him and propping up his chin on his forelegs like a cat. Then he frowns and eyes the portal. “But keep an eye on that! You never know when some more of those idiots come through it!”

“I can help with that,” says Nameless, as he casts a spell. A barrier of shimmering colors forms just in front of the portal, the _prismatic wall_ blocking its entirety. “Anyone stepping through in the next two and a half hours will get a very deadly surprise.”

“Hah!” Rhashaak’s guffaw shakes the room and sends acidic spittle flying across it. “I like it! You clearly have skills.” The dragon cocks his head thoughtfully and says, “You should consider following me. I can reward you in ways greater than you can dream.”

_You have no idea what I can dream_, Nameless comments to himself, before adding over the link, “_Okay, he’s probably insane. Let’s be careful here._”

“_So?_” replies Luna. “_He’s insane but promising us stuff. That’s *good* insane!_”

Not bothering to reply, Nameless addresses Rhashaak and asks, “Thank you for the offer. Can you tell us more about your situation here? I presume the portal opened near the dimensional seal here and...”

Rhashaak frowns at the tone and the words. “How did you know that? Have you been spying on me?”

“No,” Nameless says hastily, mentally preparing a spell just in case the mad dragon does something stupid – and violent. “We have had experience with portals (and dimensional seals), so it was just an educated guess.”

“Ah!” says the dragon, its tone switching quickly from suspicion to appreciation. “I see that you are truly well-informed. Excellent! It’s a pleasure to speak to truly intelligent visitors. See – this is what happened.” Rhashaak embarks on a long and rambling narrative of how he realized as soon as a portal had opened within his city, came here forthwith, destroyed the aberrations that had passed through, and has been destroying whatever else comes through ever since, which is why he has been unable to leave this place for weeks. The dragon is clearly very upset about the entire situation and sounds quite petulant, making the situation with Xoriat sound like it was designed mainly to inconvenience him.  

While all of the Angels grow at least somewhat impatient with the story, it is unsurprisingly Luna who finally cracks and interrupts. “So what else do you have to do in this place?” she suddenly blurts.

Rhashaak snorts in surprise and glares at her balefully, before growling, “There is much for one of my power to do. And I am about to ascend and become a god!”

Nameless quickly begins, “_Luna, please don…_,” but it’s far too late, since Luna’s eyes light up at the dragon’s comment.

“Really?” she says, “You’re going to be a god? Cool! How? When? And what are you going to do when you do?”

“Yes, I will achieve apotheosis!” says the dragon proudly, “It is my destiny. And then I will … I shall … do many things,” he ends a little awkwardly. “But it will take me some time. More time since you interfered with my armies,” Rhashaak frowns at the Angels, “For which I think you owe me your aid. But no matter – help me deal with this stupid portal and I shall reward you. Especially if you worship me. I posses powerful magic. Ancient magic.”

Six, who has not said anything thus far, transmits to the others, “_This might be useful information. I need to ask something._” Aloud he says, “Do you mean blood magic?”

“Huh?” The dragon’s confused expression would probably be amusing at another time. “What blood magic?”

“You don’t know about blood magic?” Luna asks. “We found out about it in Argonnessen.” Then, seeing Nameless roll his eyes, while Korm chortles and Gareth smacks his forehead, she turns to them and says, “Guys, don’t worry! He’s a dragon, so he’s allowed to know! Remember, the big dragon in Argonnessen said it was a dragon secret.” 

“Argonnessen! Our homeland,” Rhashaak growls. “I have never seen it. I was born in Haka’torvhak, cursed to guard….” Then he falls silent and, after a moment, frowns. “But what dragon secret? Tell me more about this.” 

Deciding that they can’t stop Luna from talking short of all jumping on her and that even that might not work (especially with Rhashaak in the chamber), the others simply let her continue, trying every once in a while to derail the conversation. Luckily, this is easy enough, and they are soon discussing many different things. Rhashaak is quite interested in news from around Khorvaire, especially about the Xoriat invasion. He is also, while possibly insane, very well-informed about extremely ancient matters, which piques Nameless’ interest, if nobody else’s. The alienist tries to ascertain what exactly it is that the giant dragon is guarding here, but Rhashaak is canny enough not to let slip any details, though he does reveal that he is a descendant of a long line of dragon guardians.

“_Just like on the island near Xen’drik_,” Nameless comments telepathically to the others. “_I surmise that he guards some remnants of the Age of Demons, whether it be a creature – or creatures – or some items. I would also guess that is what has changed him, though it might be part of his family line now. Not that I want to know. We have more immediate concerns, and after our one encounter with someone involved with a rakshasha rajah, I’ve had my fill of it_.”

With help from Korm, Gareth and Six, and only minor distraction from Luna (who is now getting bored), the alienist manages to steer the conversation around to the question of the portal. Rhashaak explains that he wishes the Angels to pass through it and destroy whatever holds it in place on the other side.

“Is that possible?” asks Six, looking at Nameless as much as at the dragon.

“Yes,” says the alienist. “Since it was opened from Xoriat, it is anchored there, and we can destroy it from there.”

“Why didn’t you mention that as an option earlier?” asks Gareth, frowning. “When we were in the Mournland…”

“…there was an army around the portal,” says Nameless, in the tone one might use when instructing a small child, “And it was in regular use, which means that – with the time difference between Xoriat and here – there would have been a large group on the other side. This portal seems to see little traffic.”

“So can we do this?” asks Korm. “I’d like to try. And see Xoriat, as long as we can leave there quickly.”

“Yeah, me too!” says Luna, waving her giant paws with ursine excitement. “Now we can see what Nameless is always talking about!”

“Xoriat probably isn’t ready to have you inflicted on it,” says Nameless dryly, “But yes, we can do it.” He turns to Rhashaak. “We need someplace to rest, so that we can prepare our spells and pass through in the morning.”

“All right,” says the dragon, adding petulantly, “I can watch it while you sleep, though I’m getting tired of this. Huu’rak will show you to a chamber.” His eyes unfocus slightly and Nameless notes a magical aura appear around him, and a minute later there is a polite knock on the door.

It is, of course, the Voice of Rhashaak, whom the dragon instructs to see the Angels to a chamber nearby. Huu’rak does so, and only a few minutes later, the Angels are settling down to sleep in a room that almost certainly predates all of the nations of Khorvaire.

Nothing untoward occurs during the night, and the next morning they arise and make preparations. Nameless discusses strategy with the others over a _heroes feast_, explaining what he considers the most likely possibilities when they cross to the other side. 

“To the best of my knowledge,” the alienist says, “While the portal is an almost purely magical construct on this side, on the other side it will have a physical anchor as part of its creation. When we arrive there, we should focus on destroying the anchor, which should in turn cause the portal to vanish. Once that’s done, I’ll _plane shift_ us back to Khorvaire, and then we can travel back to Haka’torvhak. Okay?”

“Yes,” says Six, “But can you tell us more about what we can expect?”

“Madness,” shrugs Nameless. “And what human words cannot describe. But what you need to do is focus on the task and you should be all right.” _Especially since we are all_ mind blank_ed now._

“Not very reassuring, but that’s okay. This sword” says Korm, testing the edge of his blade, “Was made to slay aberrations. Taking it to their home and doing so seems right.”

“And I just wanna know how purple this damn plane is!” growls Luna, eyeing Nameless. “Every time I ask you what it’s like, you’re ‘purple this’ and ‘purple that’!” 

When everyone is ready, the Angels are led back by Huu’rak – who is waiting patiently outside their chamber – to Rhashaak. The dragon greets them with more complaints about how long this is taking, and the Angels quickly explain that they are about to pass through immediately. Mollified, Rhashaak steps out of the way and watches with avid interest as the five of them step up to the portal. The Angels make a very distinctive sight as usual, Gareth and Six having enlarged themselves to a height of twelve feet, while Luna is in her bear form again and Korm manifesting his cloaker wings. 

“All right,” says Nameless, as the group links hands, just in case. “We go through on the count of three. Ready? One … two … go!” 

And, as one, the Angels step into the Plane of Madness.



* We’d have had a fight as soon as the PCs arrived, but one of the players had a “Never a Guard Around When You Need One” swashbuckling card, which lets you into a guarded place without trouble from the sentries, so we figured the lizardfolk not fighting them was a good application of it.


----------



## Dilandau Kale

Hmm stepping through a portal into a dimension of madness Methinks I see where this is headed.


----------



## shilsen

Alas, we've had to hold off on playing again for a couple of weeks, and my darn students keep insisting I grade papers instead of writing updates. But I have some of the next update done and hope to wrap it up in a few days.


----------



## Dilandau Kale

Sooo any chance of an update soon?


----------



## carborundum

Dilandau Kale said:


> Hmm stepping through a portal into a dimension of madness Methinks I see where this is headed.




The punchline to "What's purple and dangerous?"


----------



## shilsen

Dilandau Kale said:


> Sooo any chance of an update soon?




I'm close to done with the next one, but it may take a couple of days. For some reason, people around me seem to expect that I'll grade papers and write dissertation chapters instead 



carborundum said:


> The punchline to "What's purple and dangerous?"




Bingo! Have a pseudonatural cookie!


----------



## carborundum

shilsen said:


> Bingo! Have a pseudonatural cookie!




If I say it I might believe it...

It's a raisin, I can swallow it,
It's a raisin, I can swallow it,
It's a raisin, I can swallow it,
It's a raisin, I can swallow it...


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> If I say it I might believe it...
> 
> It's a raisin, I can swallow it,
> It's a raisin, I can swallow it,
> It's a raisin, I can swallow it,
> It's a raisin, I can swallow it...



Hey, that's what the daelkyr said to Nameless!

And here is an extra-long update:

* * * * * * * * * *

As the Guardian Angels step through the portal, each of them feels an excruciating sensation, a paradoxical combination of tearing and compression, as if their bodies were being pulled apart and reconstituted instantly. Luckily, the feeling ends in an instant, and they find themselves standing on solid ground. Beneath their feet is what looks like granite, shot through with dark greenish-purple veins, extending some fifty feet around them. And then it ends abruptly in nothingness. 

For a moment, the Angels see only darkness beyond, but then their eyes adjust and they realize what fills the area around them. It seems at first to be an endless void, but it is full of movement – and what might be life. Large, wispy clouds of a nauseating pinkish-brown color float by, either twenty feet away or a thousand – it is hard to say. A collection of forms float through the clouds, changing as they do so, switching swiftly through various shapes the Angels know and recognize – a raven, a swordfish, a dog, a swan. As each of the things changes to a particular form, so do all the others to resemble it, and then one morphs to a new shape, which the others follow. Until they all flow together to form what looks like a gigantic cuttlefish with the head of a flaming bird, which slowly swims away, leaving blue bubbles in its wake.

Some incalculable distance to the group’s left, what seems to be a thin translucent curtain hangs in the air, moving gently back and forth as it stretches away. Another curtain meets and seemingly passes through it some distance on, and a pair of them some distance beyond. A stream of purple rain streams upwards between two of the curtains, before it seems to hit an invisible barrier and flow sideways in all four directions, passing through multiple of the curtains. One set of drops fall into what looks like a small lake that hangs placidly in mid-air, the only movement in it caused by the stream of droplets and the large purplish-gray tentacle that sometimes breaks the surface. It’s hard to make out at this distance, but it seems to be slightly larger than the Gray House.

Warforged and shifter, paladin and Gatekeeper – all of them feel their minds reel at the combination of sights, unable to fully comprehend or even conceptualize what they see. Only their _mind blank_ spells keep them sane, but for a moment each feels a sense of dizziness and severe dislocation. In fact, as they look down, each sees their feet floating off the ground beneath, as they begin to drift slowly through the syrupy, thick air and away from their present location.

“Concentrate!” snaps a harsh voice, and they turn quickly to see Nameless, feet set firmly on the ground. Behind him is the portal, which looks exactly the same here except that it is framed by what seems to be a large stony arch, albeit one which seems to be alternately expanding and contracting. 

“Concentrate,” Nameless repeats as he steps forward, “And you can keep your footing. Gravity and directions such as up or down are meaningless here. Will yourself to stay someplace or move towards something and you will.” He hesitates. “Probably. Now get down here!” 

“Xoriat makes you bossy, you know,” grumbles Luna, but she follows his advice and quickly floats back down onto the stone floor. “Cool!” The druid looks around and then shakes her head. “And weird. And … kinda purple, I admit, though I can think of some other words.”  

“I’m sure,” rasps Nameless, looking up at the portal. He lifts his tentacle and points at a particularly dark spot at the apex of the arch. “That would be the, for lack of a better word, keystone of this portal. If we destroy it, the portal should collapse in on itself.”

“Then let’s do it,” says Gareth, looking around warily and ignoring the faint moaning that emanates from the Endless Blade in his hands. “And leave. I don’t see anyone nearby, but that doesn’t me…”

At which point, the ground around him ripples soundlessly and large stony jaws emerge to snap painfully shut around the paladin’s leg. The owner of the jaws emerges, simultaneously shoving the still _enlarge_d form of Gareth backwards and hoisting him into the air. It is an ovoid shape, nearly six feet tall and broad, seemingly made of the same stone as the floor of the area around the portal. Half a dozen stumpy limbs – part-arm and part-leg, each tipped with a scythe-like blade – support its form, while dozens of reptilian yellow eyes flow across the surface of its body.*

Gareth is not the only one assaulted, as each of the Angels is attacked by one such creature. Luna, the only one too large to be seized by the jaws, has two assail her, biting and clawing with surprising effectiveness into her magically thickened hide. 

“Take them down!” Nameless rasps, gritting his teeth against the pain of the stony jaws grinding into his flesh. “I’ll deal with the portal.”

Gareth and Six lay about them with mighty blows, but quickly discover that the stony flesh of the creatures are resistant to their weapons. But even the unnatural aberrations cannot fully resist the weapons, magically enhanced and more than twice as large as usual due to their owners’ spells. Stony flesh cracks and tears, and grayish-green fluid sprays across the strange battlefield.

Korm shouts, “Luna – follow my lead!” The Gatekeeper is held securely within the jaws of his larger attacker, but his arms are free. He concentrates to resist the pain and then casts, causing his attacker and most of the others to stagger as his _horrid wilting_ painfully drains water from their bodies. A couple of the creatures remain unaffected, their innate resistance to magic foiling his spell. But, a second later, Luna does follow suit, leaving every one of them damaged. 

The pained response, however, is nothing compared to the way they react as a green beam of energy leaps from Nameless’ hand, the especially widened _disintegrate_ striking the keystone perfectly. Part of it disappears while a network of fractures spreads across the remainder. The faint cracking sound is drowned out by the simultaneously panicked and angry rumbles – the first sound they have made – from the stony guardians. Each one promptly forgets its target and rushes the alienist. Six’s huge chain cracks out, scything through one’s myriad limbs and knocking it to the ground, and Luna throws her bulk on another, savaging it fiercely as it comes crashing down. But the other four throw themselves on Nameless, hiding him from sight under a flurry of flailing limbs and snapping jaws.

“Sh*t!” Gareth throws himself at the melee, hacking and slashing wildly, only an instant before Korm casts another _horrid wilting_. The creatures again convulse under the magical assault, one of them collapsing slowly backwards, followed moments later by another, cut in half by the paladin’s blade. 

As they fall, they reveal Nameless, bloodied and battered but still standing, even though the two remaining attackers have their jaws fastened to him. The alienist gives his companions a ghastly smile and then casts again, ignoring his attackers. Another _disintegrate_ shoots forth and strikes the keystone, vaporizing its remnants. 

Instantly, the arch falls apart, crumbling to nothingness in a couple of moments. As it does so, the portal shimmers, turning transparent for a split second, revealing the curious expression of Rhashaak on the other side. And then it folds in on itself, winking out of existence. The ground under the Angels shudders and begins to fall apart too, as do the bodies of their erstwhile enemies, whether slain or still seemingly alive. And somewhere far in the distance, there is an angry roar.

“Quick!” Nameless snaps, floating easily towards the others. “Everyone grab hold! Gareth – we go now!”

“Understood,” says the paladin, and as soon as everyone is in contact, he casts a spell. The world blinks out around the Angels as Gareth’s _plane shift_ takes effect, followed by the customary sense of spatial and internal dislocation which accompanies such magic. 

And then they find themselves standing in a forest clearing, the thick trees of an equatorial jungle stretching around them. Locating where they are is easy enough, since the sides of an extinct volcano extend above the trees to their north, the cliffs bearing the very distinctive ruined buildings of a giant city.

Gareth grins as he sees Haka’torvhak, barely five miles from them, and blows on his fingers. “Do I have good aim or what?”  

* * * * *
When the Guardian Angels return to Haka’torvhak, they are met by a small horde of the blackscale lizardfolk, who have evidently all been warned of the strangers’ advent. They escort the group back to the altar in front of which they first arrived, while one fetches the old lizardman Huu’rak. He seems a little surprised at the speed of their return, but simply thanks them for returning and leads them down into the tunnels under the city again.

This time, Huu’rak leads the group in a different direction. After traveling a short distance, passing many turnings and other tunnel openings, he climbs up a set of stairs. At the top is a small antechamber which opens into a huge chamber. This was evidently once a palatial hall, with large windows and multiple levels, but it is desolate now and partly-ruined, most of it wreathed in deep shadow. 

At one end of the hall is a huge, roughly curved stone seat built for a non-humanoid creature, and crouched upon it is the gargantuan form of Rhashaak. The mad wyrm grins, a little drool running from its fangs, its red eyes gleaming in the shadows. “You may leave, Huu’rak,” he says, and the lizardman bows and quickly departs.

Once he is gone, the dragon says, “You have returned quickly, and clearly you were successful. Thank you. You have upheld your part of the bargain. Now what do you wish from me?”

“As we told you,” Nameless replies, “We are going to be assaulting a ziggurat which is apparently the source of many of the aberration armies plaguing Khorvaire. We know that, at the very least, destroying it will prevent them from unleashing their greatest weapon on all of us. If you have anything that could aid us in this, that would benefit both of us and reduce the chances of further annoyances like the one we just ended.”

He glances at his companions and continues, “Gareth and Luna would probably like something shiny and magical for their efforts, since they treasure such things. I would like a few of your strongest blackscale guardians to aid us in the assault on the ziggurat. While they will almost certainly all die, they are formidable enough in combat to aid us significantly. Korm would probably like something to eat and Six will have to speak for himself. Though he does appreciate oddities and curios, I suspect he may also ask to capture your image for reproduction in a sculpture. He is accumulating a unique collection of such things.”

The alienist hesitates, and then adds, “One last thing. I would like to prevent a repeat of the ‘issues’ that caused you to send your armies forth. Is it possible to either settle the issues that caused it or come to an arrangement that will prevent any further such conflicts?”

The dragon listens unblinkingly until Nameless finishes, and then it says slowly, “I can provide some things to aid you, and send some of my followers with you. It is good that you are honest about their likely deaths. I would have been displeased if you hadn’t been. I will send those I can do without.”

Nameless nods. “I would not lie. You have seen our power and know the threats we face. If I had told you otherwise, you would have laughed in our face. Just before you tried to eat it.”

The dragon’s lips curl back from its fangs in what must be a smile, and it continues, “You are right. As for my armies – that is simple. Tell the humans to not encroach on my land. And some sacrifices would be good too.” Rhashaak spreads his wings, almost filling one end of the chamber, and raises his neck to its longest, looking down at the Angels from far above them. "I am soon to be a god! A god must have a land where he is worshiped. And followers. And sacrifices. Is that not so?”

Without waiting for an answer, Rhashaak lowers his head slightly, neck moving back and forth as he studies the Angels. “Will you worship me? If so, I can make you greater and more powerful, as I have made the blackscales, and it will aid you against this ziggurat-thing more than any items I would be willing to give you.” He adds boastfully. “I am almost a god. I have many powers, and the secrets of Haka’torvhak are mine.” The dragon’s neck snakes around as he suddenly turns to scan the shadows around the room, looking back and forth, and he growls, addressing someone or something else, “MINE! ONLY MINE!”

_Oh good – he’s definitely insane!_ Wanting to buy a few moments before he replies, Nameless says, “Can you provide a map of what you consider your lands? Humans need such things specified for them. They need to be bound by rules and laws. Also, if some wish to move into your lands, what would you ask of them? And I have some other questions – What do you consider worthy sacrifices? Are animals sufficient? Treasure? Magic? For peace humans may be able to provide a certain amount.”

“Maps?” Rhashaak snarls, but it is in disdain, not as a threat. “I am the god-king of Haka’torvhak! My people guarded this city long before the humans came! I care not for their maps! All this land is mine! ALL!”

He roars the last word and again glares at the shadows. Then he calms slightly and responds to the other questions. “If the humans come to my land they must accept me as king and worship me as their god. Tribute of all kinds is acceptable, especially magic and treasure, but sacrifices are best. Not animals. Pah! But living, intelligent beings, who may give their life for the greater glory of Rhashaak.”

Rhashaak smiles a draconic smile at the thought and then cocks his head as he eyes Nameless. “You did not answer my question. Will you worship me? As I said, I can give you much in return.”

Nameless sighs inwardly and then replies, “Can you give us more time? Kaarn the Conqueror once said, ‘Ask me for anything but more time.’ That is our greatest limitation. There simply isn't enough time for all the things we need to do.” Before the dragon can complain that he isn’t answering, he adds, “As far as worship goes, my soul is spoken for. You cannot gain the powers I have, without ...  making certain sacrifices. Bargains have to be struck and there is always a price to be paid. And that is a coin I have no more of.” 

The alienist gestures at his companions. “Gareth is likewise spoken for, as well as notoriously inflexible in such matters. Luna, well ... nobody can speak for her.” _And she’ll speak for herself, endlessly, at length and in details you don’t want to hear._ “Korm is quite fascinated by anything which increases his power, so he may be receptive to your offer. And Six may not be averse to such an offer either. He and his people lack any gods of their own.”

“Not exactly,” says Six. “Some of my people have theories about that. But,” he addresses Rhashaak, “Nameless is generally right about us. And I do have a request, if you don’t mind. Would you pose for a sculpture, like he said?”

Rhashaak looks a little surprised at the request to pose, but then nods quickly, dripping more acidic drool on the floor. “Yes. That is an excellent idea. A sculpture would be a wonderful addition to my throne room. Or perhaps one for the sacrifice altar. Can you make me a life-size one? I will have the finest stone brought for you!”

Six quickly replies, “I was thinking of a smaller sculpture to start with, and then I could do a large one later. After our trouble with the aberrations is over. I’m also curious how your ascension is going. What is the process?”

Rhashaak glares at him and then his neck snakes down so that he can stare Six in the eyes. “That is _my_ secret! Mine! And my ascension goes as it should. It is inevitable.”

Since he is unable to swallow, Six simply nods and says, “Very good. As a god to be, do you know of any other gods?”

“Of course I know of other gods. But they are not gods which dwell here in this world. Other than your,” Rhashaak glances at Gareth, “little Silver Flame. I shall be the first true deity that dwells in Eberron, and certainly in Khorvaire.”

“Very good. I will try to make you an appropriate sculpture. After the smaller one first.”

Rhashaak’s face twists in what is probably a draconic frown and he says, “Very well. A small piece is acceptable. I will consider that tribute.” He then addresses the group as a whole, “And I shall give you some of my blackscale warriors, as this one,” he indicates Nameless with a giant claw, “Requested. And some magical treasures which I can spare. Is there anything else you need?”

Gareth, who has been thinking that the dragon is as megalomaniacal as it is insane but not saying anything to avoid upsetting it, finally speaks up. “What kind of magical items can you spare to help us out?”

Rhashaak’s head whips around and he growls, “Whatever I choose, human!” Then his tone softens slightly and he shrugs massively. “I will see. There are many things I have not touched in decades, some of which would much better suit you creatures than myself. You wear,” he sniffs disdainfully, “Shoes and gloves and belts and other such things which are beneath the dignity of a dragon. And a god.”

Rhashaak snorts and says peremptorily, “Wait here. Do not go anywhere.” Then he casts a _dimension door_ and disappears.

Luna growls irritably as the dragon departs. “Man ... did that dragon get whackier since we came back? He seemed so reasonable before we left! Maybe he caught something while tangling with the stuff through the portal. And maybe we should kill him now.” She scratches her chin thoughtfully. “I’ve never killed a sorta-god before.”

“I think he was just this insane,” rasps Nameless. “We just didn’t spend enough time speaking to him earlier. And I would rather not waste time trying to kill a ‘sorta-god’ right. Let’s just take whatever aid he provides and, if possible later, return to deal with him when needed.”

“I agree,” says Six. “I suggest we just look Rhashaak and this area over closely, since we might have to come back and kill him. An ascendant dragon half-fiend would be a bad thing to have around anyway, and it could be the sacrifice needed to close the seals. He seems insane, but he might have the power. Remember, according to Xagygyrag, the planes will soon align for the best time to reseal the dimensions. We need a major life force on this plane to power the seals. The Silver Flame could be one, and this chump might be another.”

“Sounds like a plan,” says Korm. “I’m quite happy to avoid tangling with giant dragons unless we can’t avoid it.” 

“Me too,” says Gareth.

“I think we should celebrate,” Nameless says dryly. “We almost have consensus, for once, about not trying to get ourselves killed.” He glances at Luna. “Almost.”

“Fine,” grumbles Luna, “But I hope we don’t regret it.”

* * * * *
Nearly an hour later…

The Angels stand in a large chamber in Flamekeep with Jaela Daran, who is perched on a table so as to put her closer to the same height as them. Half a dozen of the large, winged blackscale lizardfolk huddle together at one side of the chamber, talking quietly among themselves, clearly uncomfortable with their surroundings and the situation they find themselves in.

“So this possibly insane half-fiend dragon gave you these warriors and a number of magical items to aid you?” asks the Keeper of the Flame, with far less surprise in her voice than would be appropriate for anyone who hasn’t actually spent some time with the Guardian Angels.

“Yes,” rasps Nameless, with a thin smile. “He was quite evil, I think, which led us – based on previous experiences – to believe that we could trust his offer.”

“I see,” says Jaela. “And it seems you were right, so it’s not mine to judge.” The young girl smiles, “I worked that out soon after meeting all of you. Anyway, what do you propose to do next?”

“We plan to summon Enitharmon, Keeper,” replies Gareth, “And then leave for the Marches. We considered doing so in the morning, but decided that we’d rather not spend any spells on transportation, since we might need them.”

“Good point,” says Jaela. She hops off the table, causing slightly pitiful and panicky growling to emerge from the mass of fur, fangs and claws which is rolling around in a corner of the room (unsurprisingly, an area the blackscales have placed themselves diametrically opposite to). The Keeper looks in that direction and says, her tone polite and only faintly pained, “Err … Luna?”

Gareth crimsons as he turns quickly in that direction. “Luna! Let the Keeper’s guardian go!”

“Nobody ever lets me have fun!” growls Luna, but the dire bear lets Skaravojen go, allowing the magical Vadalis-created dragonhound to extricate itself from her grasp and bound to Jaela with as much dignity as it can muster.

“Oh, good,” says Korm, with a loud chuckle. “I was wondering what she was doing to the poor creature, but was too scared to ask! I’m just relieved that it wasn’t a gnome.” 

Luna promptly blows the Gatekeeper a loud and ursine raspberry. Six looks back and forth between the two and then nods mechanically, saying quietly, “Sleep, food, excretion and sex – I’m quite positive those are the reasons all your species are fundamentally insane.”

Nameless shakes his head slightly and then focuses on Jaela, who is watching the entire interplay with amused – if slightly wide – eyes. “I believe,” the alienist says, “I should contact Enitharmon now and ask him to join us. It’s not good to give them,” he glances at his companions, “Too much time. They can keep this up all day. Xoriat can actually be a relief, in comparison.”

Jaela giggles. “I believe you. And I must say, one of the things that amazes me most about your group is that you all provide amusement even at a time like this.” She shakes her head and giggles again, but then quickly turns serious. “And you’re right, Nameless. Go ahead and contact Enitharmon, and tell me if there’s anything else you need.”

“I will think on it,” says Nameless, before raising the new staff he carries. “This thing can cast sixteen _disintegrate_s. If I cannot destabilize the ziggurat with that, combined with Luna’s, Korm’s and my spells, then I don’t think anything can help deal with it.”




* * * * *
Later, shortly before sunset, in the Shadow Marches…

Enitharmon stands about a mile from the cave opening to the tunnels which eventually culminate in the cavern housing the ziggurat, looking back and forth with an only mildly wrathful expression. The Angels stand around him and, a short distance away, the blackscale guardians provided by Rhashaak watch the planetar warily.

Nearby, two ropes hang suspended from mid-air, and the planetar’s ire is apparently focused on them. “You mean to tell me,” he says, “That you brought me all the way here, crossing between the planes and halfway across your continent, so that I can spend the night inside a _rope trick_ spell with the rest of you?”

“We have used much of our magic today,” Gareth explains, “And will be in much better shape for a battle in the morning, when we have prepared a full quota of spells.”

“Believe me,” Nameless adds dryly, “If this place is anything like what it was on our previous visits, there will be more than enough to keep you busy.” He looks around, his vision enhanced by a _see invisibility_ spell, and notes the swirls of roiling grey mist shot through with purplish-green streaks that fill the ethereal plane around them, deepening drastically nearer to the entrance to the tunnels. “The influence of the manifest zone has clearly spread. I wonder if that is a natural, and I use the word advisedly, result of the Xoriat incursion. Or if someone – or something – specific is behind it. The divinations we have used certainly, for what it’s worth, indicate that we are expected.”

The alienist recalls what Jaela told him and repeats for Enitharmon’s benefit, “This is what the Silver Flame told us about the situation: ‘The primary defenders of the ziggurat are veiled from divination by its power, as you are from them. But they expect your coming, just as you know they await you. Outside the ziggurat, giant and dwarf, beast and weed, are ready to defend it. Use your allies and minions to clear you a way to the ziggurat, and husband your strength, since you will need all your might to prevail.’”

“That sounds excellent,” says Enitharmon, brandishing his sword. “I thirst for battle.”

“So do I,” grins Korm, “But I think Nameless has a point about getting some rest and gathering all our strength.”

The others agree, and the planetar gives in with a poor grace. He flies up to and enters the _rope trick_, pausing only to promise dire vengeance on anyone joining him who happens to snore.

Six studies the spot where Enitharmon disappeared speculatively. “He seems … hasty. I hope that will not be a problem tomorrow.”

“If he’s anywhere near as powerful as he’s bloodthirsty,” says Nameless, “He’ll be worth the effort. I think. Now let’s get some rest.”

The Angels fly up into the _rope trick_ too, while the blackscales, having been informed by them what they need to do, enter the second of the magical spaces. Silence, except for the faint calls of birds and the sound of the wind, descends on this little piece of the Shadow Marches.

A few minutes after the Angels enter the _rope trick_ and pull the rope up, the earth beneath it ripples softly, as if something were moving through the marshy ground as smoothly as if it were water. Moments later, something huge breaks through the surface a short distance away and a small forest of long necks extend into the air, the reptilian heads topping them looking around curiously. After a few seconds, they sink back beneath the ground again, which closes smoothly behind them.

And somewhere, not too far away, two lavender eyes open. The inhumanly beautiful face in which they are set remains unchanged for a few seconds, and then it slowly moves. 

And the daelkyr smiles.


* Pseudonatural elder xorns, advanced to CR 13.


----------



## carborundum

Wowzers - what was that? An earthgliding pseudonatural hydra? Yikes! And a daelkyr in the neighbourhood! It's all going to go wrong ;-)

Fantastic mountain of text, Mr. S, thanks for taking the time to write it all!
I really thought it was going to kick off with Rhashaak but they got away niftily. Using him to power the wards is a genius idea! I hope they settle his hash one way or another, the big freak! He makes Luna look calm, thorough and predictable ;-)


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Wowzers - what was that? An earthgliding pseudonatural hydra? Yikes!




Bingo! And did I mention he has brothers?



> Yikes! And a daelkyr in the neighbourhood! It's all going to go wrong ;-)




Next couple of updates should make that even more abundantly clear 



> Fantastic mountain of text, Mr. S, thanks for taking the time to write it all!




Glad you liked it. I had some of it already done, since we had played out the interaction with Rhashaak online (which I forgot about, but Rackhir reminded me), so it didn't take as long as it could have. Plus it provided me a few breaks from grading, which I sadly need to get back to after this post.



> I really thought it was going to kick off with Rhashaak but they got away niftily.




I was half-expecting a big battle with him too, since I never know with these guys, so I had stats ready just in case. Maybe they'll become relevant in the future, and if not him, I can always find a way to reuse them.



> Using him to power the wards is a genius idea!




Yup. The group has a few different possibilities in that area, at least a couple of which I hadn't originally considered but picked up just listening to players talk (IC and OOC). Come to think of it, that explains a lot of the campaign 



> I hope they settle his hash one way or another, the big freak! He makes Luna look calm, thorough and predictable ;-)




I'm thinking, after running this campaign, that I have a strange affinity to insane dragons. And really scary little guys (gnomes, halflings, goblins, etc). Ah, the things we learn about ourselves!


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## Rackhir

shilsen said:


> I was half-expecting a big battle with him too, since I never know with these guys, so I had stats ready just in case. Maybe they'll become relevant in the future, and if not him, I can always find a way to reuse them.




We were NOT going to be fighting him if I had anything to say about it. Half-fiend dragon - Blasphemy + Dragon HD (AKA Caster Level) = Instantly dead party. 

We're not that stupid and fighting your dragons is never any fun. They're always buffed to the point of near invulnerability and when you think you've actually managed to inflict some damage they always start tossing Heals on themselves and all your efforts are wasted.

Not a fun time in my book.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:


> We're not that stupid and fighting your dragons is never any fun. They're always buffed to the point of near invulnerability and when you think you've actually managed to inflict some damage they always start tossing Heals on themselves and all your efforts are wasted.
> 
> Not a fun time in my book.




I think you're misremembering. After all, when it comes to dragon fights, this is what you've experienced:

1 - Tyrass, the insane silver dragon on the island near Xen'drik (heavily buffed, no healing spells at all)

2 - Two fang dragons in the Labyrinth near the Demon Wastes (no buffs or spells at all)

3 - Shalash and Ofarrn, the two red dragons that attacked you on entering Argonnessen (couple of buffs each, no healing spells at all)

4 - Xagygyrag (VERY buffed and ability to cast Heal)

5 - Kallionaxis (heavily buffed, no healing spells at all)

In 90 sessions, you've fought one dragon with a Heal spell. You also beat, albeit with varying degrees of trouble, every dragon you've fought besides that one dragon.

I think you're just traumatised by Xagygyrag


----------



## carborundum

Yeah, but Xagygyrag = heal spell, super buffs, _*took his stuff*_ and bit his head off. That counts for double. Triple even ;-)


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:


> I think you're misremembering. After all, when it comes to dragon fights, this is what you've experienced:
> 
> 1 - Tyrass, the insane silver dragon on the island near Xen'drik (heavily buffed, no healing spells at all)




And this one was when we were too low level for that to be reasonable even for you.



shilsen said:


> 2 - Two fang dragons in the Labyrinth near the Demon Wastes (no buffs or spells at all)
> 
> 3 - Shalash and Ofarrn, the two red dragons that attacked you on entering Argonnessen (couple of buffs each, no healing spells at all)




These were all mooks, "random" encounters.



shilsen said:


> 5 - Kallionaxis (heavily buffed, no healing spells at all)




"the most powerful of them coming from a spherical stone embedded in the wall of the largest chamber, which seems to have been used as a bedroom. It is (as Nameless later learns) *a draconic healing stone*, but unfortunately one that is built into the lair and deactivates if removed."



shilsen said:


> In 90 sessions, you've fought one two out of three (really two out of two) dragon with a Heal spell. You also beat, albeit with varying degrees of trouble, every dragon you've fought besides that one dragon.




We got at best a draw vs Kal and I doubt a second round would have gone much better.



shilsen said:


> I think you're just traumatised by Xagygyrag




Why would that be? I noticed you didn't dispute the "Dragon HD + Blasphemy = Instantly Dead Party".



carborundum said:


> Yeah, but Xagygyrag = heal spell, super buffs, _*took his stuff*_ and bit his head off. That counts for double. Triple even ;-)




That was Gareth.


----------



## carborundum

Oops - you're right. Sorry Rackhir.
(Just woke up and couldn't help myself with the teasing )

As a player I'd stay a country mile away from one of Shil's dragons. As a DM I'm loving them...


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:


> And this one was when we were too low level for that to be reasonable even for you.




You forgot the bit where it was insane and diseased, which significantly affected its abilities and combat tactics. I do take things like that into account.



> coming from a spherical stone embedded in the wall of the largest chamber, which seems to have been used as a bedroom. It is (as Nameless later learns) *a draconic healing stone*, but unfortunately one that is built into the lair and deactivates if removed."




Heh! So an unused item back in its lair is an example of you guys beating down a dragon and it throwing around Heals? In that case, every fight your PCs have been in is an example of a fight where the NPCs kill you - since they could just as hypothetically have done so.



> These were all mooks, "random" encounters.




Still examples of my dragons which don't fit the bill of super-buffed Heal-casting enemies.  



> Why would that be? I noticed you didn't dispute the "Dragon HD + Blasphemy = Instantly Dead Party".




I didn't bother since I had house-ruled Blasphemy to not work the same way (so it provides a save and doesn't do the auto-daze). 



> That was Gareth.




That's just what I thought when I saw caroborundum's post


----------



## Rackhir

shilsen said:


> You forgot the bit where it was insane and diseased, which significantly affected its abilities and combat tactics. I do take things like that into account.




That was the only reason we survived at all. None of that made him a pushover. Cutting an overwhelmingly lethal encounter down to one that is "merely" a major challenge, is not an example of beneficence or doing us some sort of a favor.



shilsen said:


> Heh! So an unused item back in its lair is an example of you guys beating down a dragon and it throwing around Heals? In that case, every fight your PCs have been in is an example of a fight where the NPCs kill you - since they could just as hypothetically have done so.




So items don't factor into a character's/monster's power? For some reason, that's not how I remember 3.5 working. 

Had we played that out straight, Kal could easily gotten back to it in a half dozen ways, I can think of off hand and I'm sure you had that factored into it's tactics. You NEVER toss in stuff like that and make it completely pointless.



shilsen said:


> Still examples of my dragons which don't fit the bill of super-buffed Heal-casting enemies.




So are you going to try and persuade me that Rhashaak belongs grouped with these guys and not Xaggy or Kal?



shilsen said:


> I didn't bother since I had house-ruled Blasphemy to not work the same way (so it provides a save and doesn't do the auto-daze).




With the way Korm and I roll saving throws, that's not a reassurance.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:


> That was the only reason we survived at all. None of that made him a pushover. Cutting an overwhelmingly lethal encounter down to one that is "merely" a major challenge, is not an example of beneficence or doing us some sort of a favor.




I never said he was a pushover. I was just responding to your complaint about him not being a reasonable encounter. 



> So items don't factor into a character's/monster's power? For some reason, that's not how I remember 3.5 working.




Items that don't feature in an encounter or have any in-game effect (and aren't even present in the same place as the encounter) don't factor in. Kallionaxis when you fought her wasn't as tough as she would have been in her lair, but since you didn't actually fight her in her lair, I don't see how she features as an example of a dragon you fought who casts Heals after you beat it down. 

That is, by the way, what my posts are about. You mentioned that my dragons are "always buffed to the point of near invulnerability and when you think you've actually managed to inflict some damage they always start tossing Heals on themselves and all your efforts are wasted." Always start tossing Heals on themselves? I was pointing out that this supposed Healing of themselves has happened with one dragon in 90 sessions. 



> So are you going to try and persuade me that Rhashaak belongs grouped with these guys and not Xaggy or Kal?




No, I won't. Rhashaak was horribly powerful. But that's irrelevant here since, as mentioned above, all I was pointing out is that the ability to self-Heal which you said my dragons always have didn't actually exist except for one dragon. Rhashaak didn't have the ability to cast Heal, but that's not relevant, since you never fought him, so I hadn't brought it up. 



> With the way Korm and I roll saving throws, that's not a reassurance.




True dat.


----------



## Dilandau Kale

Great update hope to see the next one soon.


----------



## shilsen

Dilandau Kale said:


> Great update hope to see the next one soon.



I'm smack-dab in the middle of grading a big batch of papers, so I very likely won't be updating for at least a week. End of semester work tends to get in the way of more important things, like gaming


----------



## Dilandau Kale

Any hope of an update before Christmas?


----------



## Neurotic

Let your students read this story hour (or collected story at least) and grade YOU  Then they might appreciate if you take 5 to write short paragraph here and there ...


----------



## shilsen

Dilandau Kale said:


> Any hope of an update before Christmas?




I'm not promising anything, since I have to get done with grading and will also be off on the 21st to spend Christmas with my girlfriend's family, but I'll see what I can do.



Neurotic said:


> Let your students read this story hour (or collected story at least) and grade YOU  Then they might appreciate if you take 5 to write short paragraph here and there ...




Heh! Nice idea. One of my students actually asked me recently if I've ever thought of using D&D to teach creative writing (since I'd mentioned playing it in class and how DMing and teaching each make me better at the other), and I mentioned story hours as one of the many ways in which I can think of using it.


----------



## shilsen

Happy New Year!

* * * * * * * * * *
The next morning, the Angels and their allies prepare to head towards the entrance. For once, Luna is actually not the most impatient or disgruntled person around, with the blackscale lizardfolk apparently not having taken well to the night spent within the confines of a _rope trick_. Enitharmon is even more irascible, grumbling constantly about the fact that he had to spend so many hours waiting. 

“I actually had to sleep, so as to have something to do,” the planetar mutters to nobody in particular, “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I slept? Or what that feels like?”

“I have no idea,” Six replies dryly, “But it must be horrible.”

The planetar turns its frowning gaze on the warforged, but before it can express its ire at his sarcasm, Nameless hurriedly interrupts. “Invisible stalkers! There are two of them on the top of the hill above the entrance. We need to stop them before they warn of our arrival.” Wanting to keep Enitharmon busy, he looks at the planetar and the leader of the blackscales, and asks, “Can you take care of them? I would like to conserve our spells as much as possible.”

“Of course,” says Enitharmon, drawing his sword. With a flap of his wings, he takes to the air and arrows towards the two invisible stalkers. The six blackscales are quickly left behind him, being both clumsier and slower than the celestial.  

The invisible stalkers crouched low atop the hill only realize that they have been detected as a _faerie fire_ from Luna marks them out, and by the time they fly hurriedly towards the entrance below, it is too late. Enitharmon descends on them in a fury, hewing with fierce abandon. Seconds later, the lizardfolk arrive to complete the job. 

When the Angels reach the spot, Nameless studies the corpses of the invisible stalkers critically. Noting the tentacles and other growths protruding from their amorphous bodies, he says, “Definitely pseudonatural. And they each had a faint divination on them. Probably an alarm or detection spell of some kind. They might know we are here, though hopefully these two didn’t manage to communicate much.” 

“Who cares?” Enitharmon says dismissively, floating above the group and wiping off his sword. “There will be many enemies, I presume, so some at least will know we are coming.” He raises his sword above his head and smiles as it flares momentarily into flame. “For all the good that it will do them.”

_Oh boy!_ The alienist takes a deep breath and carefully says, “Perhaps, but I would like us to be careful, nevertheless. Whether they know we are here or not, a little misdirection would be helpful. Would you be willing to disguise yourself? Perhaps using a _hat of disguise_?”

The planetar looks down at Nameless with a disgusted expression. “Certainly not! I agreed to aid you, but I am _not_ about to disguise myself!” The angel flaps its wings to rise a little higher, and then says, slightly less irritably, “But if you wish me to surprise our foes….” And disappears from view, though Nameless can still see his now invisible form. “There. Now let us go in.”

“Very well,” says Nameless, before addressing the group. “Remember our plan. The creatures here probably have multiple defenses, so we want to engage them and make them think we’re making a frontal attack. Hopefully they’ll use some of their resources and magic preparing, and then we pull back, sending in a diversionary force, and come in the top of the cavern.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Korm says, before adding cheerfully, “Not that it’ll ever work.”

The Angels and their allies proceed to head in, with the invisible planetar taking the lead. Since the tunnels that lead into the earth vary in size from approximately ten feet in height and width to over twenty feet, travel is not difficult, though it is slower going with the larger group. Barely ten minutes after they entered, some members of the group hear the sounds of movement up ahead, including the suspicious scraping of metal against stone.

Pausing for only a few moments to prepare themselves, they proceed briskly and soon enter one of the many large caverns that break up the winding monotony of the tunnels. Awaiting them are eight large creatures, roughly akin to stone giants, albeit ones with bat-like wings growing out of their shoulders. They strongly resemble the ones which the Angels saw come through the portal in the Mournland, though these are smaller, only a dozen feet in height each.

Wearing suits of plate armor which have clearly been crafted for the specific wearers and wielding proportionately large saw-toothed falchions, the creatures roar a wordless challenge and rush the intruders. Only to be brought up short momentarily as Enitharmon appears before them, smiling with pleasure as he hacks into the leading giant, almost severing its arm with a single blow. The giants swarm around the planetar, some of their powerful blows penetrating its armor and inflicting some damage, but Enitharmon seems unconcerned, merrily engaging the majority of them on his own.

Enitharmon’s action works especially well for his allies, since it gives them just the time they need, and the rest – Gareth, Korm, Six, Luna and the blackscales – charge into the giants, while Nameless follows up with spells. The giants are powerful and durable, and if the Angels were alone here they would have had a hard fight. But with all the allies present the battle is soon over, though not before two of the blackscales fall.

The planetar looks around, blood streaming from his sword, and grins, “Now that was a _good_ fight!”

“Yes!” says Korm, looking down at the two surviving giants, which he had rendered magically asleep. “I’m not used to that working!” The Gatekeeper looks over at Nameless. “Shall we finish them off?” 

The alienist nods. “Do it. I doubt we’d learn anything useful from them.”

“Okay.” Korm proceeds to decapitate one, while Gareth steps up to dispose of the other.

“Korm, did you eat any of the giants?” asks Nameless, causing the planetar to spin around and ask, “What?!” 

The Gatekeeper grins and replies, “I can gain the powers of aberrations by eating part of them. It’s a long story.” Turning to Nameless, he continues, “And no, I haven’t. I should do so. Now which one…”

“Hey,” mumbles Luna indistinctly, one tentacle inside her giant maw, “I can give you a lump. I bit a big piece off and it’s stuck here.” She makes a nauseating gurgling sound as she attempts to extract a piece of pseudonatural giant.

Korm raises both hands hastily, only part of the horror on his countenance feigned, “NOOOOOOO!!!”

Ignoring the interchange, Six asks, “Should we pull back now? If we’re going to send in some of them ahead of us, we need to do that before we run out.” He nods to indicate the four blackscales, which are carefully removing the equipment their companions bore.

“Good point,” says Gareth. “I don’t want to waste time on unimportant fights.”

“Yeah!” grumbles Luna, rubbing a tentacle on the top of her now gigantic green head. “It’s uncomfortable going through these damn tunnels as a tendriculos, and I need to be like this in case of trouble.”

“Yes,” says Nameless, “This would be the right time to pull out. Enitharmon will come with us, while the blackscales head towards the ziggurat as fast as possible using their ability to fly. We can summon a number of elementals which can go with them, and they can fight whatever they encounter along the way. That should draw attention to them, use up enemy resources, and hopefully provide a distraction from us.”

As the alienist commands the blackscales what to do, they nod stolidly, seemingly having resigned themselves to whatever comes next. 

A number of spells are cast, at the end of which eight large air elementals stand in the chamber too. The entire group of lizardfolk and elementals are _haste_d, provided with other magical protections, and then sent off. But not before Nameless casts a _chain of eyes_ spell, so that he can watch through the eyes of one of the creatures as they proceed. While he and the others exit the tunnels, the alienist keeps up a running commentary of what he sees.

To his surprise, the elementals and lizardfolk encounter no opposition till they enter the cavern. But what they find in there is very different from what the Angels left behind on their previous visit a month ago. The dolgrim city is almost completely destroyed. The magical pillars which lit the area are gone, reduced to piles of rubble, leaving it pitch black. Whatever the elementals and blackscales – and Nameless through them – can see of the entire cavern is overgrown with a tangle of plants. These seem to be vines, covered in a mix of sickly grey-brown leaves with off-white ones speckled in. The leaves have long barbs and thin red lines running through them, which look like pulsating veins. And dotted through the area are scores, if not hundreds, of bodies, most of them dolgrims, with some dolgaunts. The weeds seem to have grown both around and through the bodies, each of which is pale and sickly white, but otherwise well-preserved.* 

“Now there’s absolutely nothing about that which could be suspicious,” says Korm as Nameless relays the details of the sight. “Are any of those bodies moving?”

“They … are now,” says the alienist, as the elementals and blackscales fly into the cavern. “And so are the plants.”

As the elementals, moving far faster than the blackscales, fly into the cavern, the closest bodies rise awkwardly and shamble towards them, reaching up with pale arms. Each of them, Nameless can now see, has a long vine attached somewhere to its body, which connects it to the larger mass of tangled vegetation. Other vines rise into the air too, unattached to any corpse and clearly moving of their own volition. 

While the corpses cannot reach the elementals, the vines can, and they lash up to heights of twenty feet above the ground, dozens of them latching onto each of the elementals. As the blackscales arrive, more vines strike out at them, writhing around the unfortunate creatures. Though he cannot hear them, Nameless sees the lizardfolk cry out as the animated plants strike. Each vine terminates in a set of claw-like suckers, which bites deep into the flesh it meets, and then the tendril snakes around its prey. In seconds, blackscales and elementals alike are drawn down to the ground.

The shambling, pale corpses promptly rush them, each one punching and clawing at the closest target. There is no strategy and no evidence of intelligent thought, with the creatures bumping into each other in their hurry to attack, but they are clearly not zombies, as evidenced by both their appearance and speed. In fact, from the effects that their blows have on their targets, Nameless surmises that they are akin to vampire spawn in their ability to drain the energy of their foes as well as their resistance to damage.

As he watches, the blackscales and elementals strike desperately around them, smashing enemies to the ground or hacking them apart. But they are heavily outnumbered, and the combination of the vampiric undead and the plants is too much, and they fall one by one. As they do so, Nameless quickly transfers the sensor created by his spell from one to another of his allies, trying to follow the battle as much as he can.

The blackscales are the first to fall, their power aiding them little against the numbers they face. The elementals, however, have other options, and each of them transforms into a whirlwind, sweeping up enemies and flinging them away, while attempting to break away from the plants that have seized them. Despite their efforts, only two of the elementals finally manage to extricate themselves, rising swiftly to the ceiling of the cavern above the plants’ grasp. Then, following the instructions that Nameless had given them, they fly toward the far end of the area.

In a couple of seconds, the ziggurat comes into view. Nothing here seems to be any different, with even the giant mass of vegetation ending at the underground river that divides the floor of the cavern in two, so that the area around the ziggurat seems just the same as it was the last time Nameless saw it. Or at least so it seems, for the few seconds that he has before the summoning spell ends and the elementals disappear.

Nameless blinks as his vision clears, and then explains to the others what he saw. “I’m pleased that we didn’t just fly in there with the blackscales. Without the ability to use teleportation magic there, we would have been in serious trouble.”

“It does sound like it,” says Korm. “Now let’s see what happens when we go in the back way.”

“Wait,” says Nameless. “Let’s give it some time before we do so, since there are very likely other defenders that we didn’t see. If they used spells or magic items to prepare for the assault, we can give them time to expire.”

The others agree, though Enitharmon grumbles a bit about the delay, and they settle down to wait. After well over an hour, the alienist suggests that they head in now. “Korm?”

The Gatekeeper nods and focuses, calling on one of the powers granted him by the combination of Mordain’s restructuring of his body and one of the aberrations he has fed on (ironically, within the tunnels below him). Korm’s body begins to expand and stretch, though the effect ends swiftly, leaving him looking a good twenty pounds heavier than he was moments earlier. 

“Hey, you got chunky…,” Luna begins, before she pauses in surprise as Korm begins to hurriedly take off the loose shirt he wears. “What happened?”

“Acid!” Korm explains, ripping off his vest to reveal his chest. Which is just as muscular and hairy as always, and completely mucous, being covered with a thick gray fluid.

“Ewww! What’s that?”

“Delver slime, or something like it,” says Korm, before dropping to his knees and then placing himself chest first on the ground. He wriggles awkwardly and mutters, “This is awkward. But it seems to be working.”

As the others watch, Korm begins to sink into the ground swiftly as the earth beneath him dissolves. The Gatekeeper shifts back and forth constantly to expand the tunnel that is being formed, so that it is large enough for the others to use too.

The planetar, who has been standing and watching Korm’s actions with a bemused expression, shakes his head in wonder. “I have seen many worlds, and you might be the strangest collection of creatures that I have ever met.”

“I,” Six says dryly, as he walks over to the tunnel that Korm is creating, “Am not at all surprised.” Shadows wreathe the warforged’s form, and he steps over the edge, clinging easily to the side of the tunnel as he descends behind the Gatekeeper. 

Nameless flies over to tunnel and floats down beside Six. The others also move to follow him, but then Korm says, “Wait!”

“What?” asks Luna, still in the process of working out what form to take that would let her fit down the tunnel.

“I feel movement in the earth,” the Gatekeeper says, climbing to his feet. Cloaker-like wings sprout from his shoulder-blades and he flaps awkwardly into the air. “Something’s coming. Or things.”

“I hear it too,” says Six, hurriedly climbing back upwards as well.

Nameless flies back up to the area outside the tunnel too, pulling a gnarled staff from his _bag of holding_. He triggers it multiple times, causing four huge earth elementals to appear before him. “Luna?”

The druid, having transformed back into a tendriculos, begins to speak in the harsh, grating tongue of the elementals, which sounds more like rocks clashing together than an actual language. Without a word of response, the elementals disappear into the ground below them.

As the Angels and Enitharmon prepare themselves, the muffled sounds of conflict emerge from the ground below them. Which is followed barely a quarter of a minute later, by the ground cracking in three areas as the hidden enemies are revealed. A tangle of long necks emerges from each spot, each one topped by a large reptilian head ending in jaws full of sharp fangs. The hydra heads and necks emerge from huge, squat bodies, each surrounded by a collection of thick tentacles.

Enitharmon, Nameless and Korm are all in mid-air at this point, so the creatures lunge at Six, Luna and Gareth, ripping and tearing at them. Though each of the targets has powerful protections and defenses, there is only so much they can do to fend off a dozen heads each. Tendriculos bark, warforged wood and metal, and Gareth’s magical plate-mail buckle and tear under the assault. 

The three embattled Angels fight back, inflicting deep wounds, while Nameless and Korm lash the creatures with magical power. Enitharmon charges into the closest of the creatures, ignoring the heads that snap at him, their bites inflicting only shallow tears in his celestial flesh. 

The affray is short and sharp, both sides handing out much more damage than they can actually absorb. The sheer number of attacks that each of the strange beasts can make serves to inflict significant wounds on their foes, but the Angels both outnumber them and have healing ability at hand. Plus, moments into the battle, three of Nameless’ elementals also emerge to join the fight. 

Seconds later, the Angels stand amidst the carnage of the three huge corpses. Gareth, wiping blood off his face and channeling energy to close his many wounds, says, “Those things were tough! I hope there aren’t more down near the ziggurat.”

“Only one way to find out,” says Korm, flapping his way down to join those on the ground. After seeing that everyone’s wounds have been tended to, he says, “Shall we continue?”

“Yes,” says Enitharmon before any of the others can respond. “Hopefully, that was only a warm-up.”

_Hopefully you’re wrong._ Nameless simply says, “Yes, we should go on.”

The group heads back to the tunnel Korm was creating and follow him into it, Nameless’ elementals helping expand it for the few seconds that they are still in existence. Slowly, they descend into the hill, coming closer and closer to the cavern within which the ziggurat awaits them. 


* That was a collection of Shadowrot Weeds and their minions, kindly created by Solarious.


----------



## carborundum

Happy New Year, Shilsen!

Nice update - that's one spooky place with some scary denizens!
I don't suppose you feel like posting stats for some of your creations?


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Happy New Year, Shilsen!
> 
> Nice update - that's one spooky place with some scary denizens!
> I don't suppose you feel like posting stats for some of your creations?



Sure. 

Here are the flying giants they encountered. I just took a stone giant, gave it a couple of Fighter levels, moved the stats around a bit, added the pseudonatural template, and gave it the ability to fly.



> PSEUDONATURAL STONE GIANT FTR2; CR 12; large outsider; 14d8+2d10+128; 202 hp; Init +6; Speed 30, fly 30 (good); AC 31, touch 11, flatfooted 30; BAB/Grp +12/+26; Falchion +25/20/15 (2d6+19/15-20) or +22/17/12 (2d6+25/15-20) w. 3 pts PA or +40 (2d6+29/15-20) w. True Strike + full PA; Space/Reach 10 ft/10 ft; F +19, R +8, W +8; NE; Str 34 (+12), Dex 12 (+1), Con 24 (+7), Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 11
> 
> Feats (8): Cleave, C. Reflexes, I. Critical, I. Initiative, I. Toughness, Large & in Charge, P. Attack, W. Focus
> 
> SA/Q: True Strike 1/day, SR 25, resistance (acid/electric 10), alternate form (enemies take -1 morale to hit; included in AC), DR 10/magic
> 
> EQ: Falchion +1, Full-Plate +1, Cloak of Resistance +3




And here's the multi-headed critters, which were advanced 12-headed hydras with the ability to burrow and a significant amount of tremorsense.



> PSEUDONATURAL ADVANCED 12-HEADED HYDRA; CR 15; huge outsider; 18d10+126; 260 hp; Init +1; 20 ft; AC 23 (-2 size, +1 Dex, +13 natural, +1 morale), touch 10, flatfooted 22; BAB/Grp +18/+33; 12 bites +24 (2d8+7/19-20); Space/Reach 15 ft/10 ft; F +16, R +12, W +8; N; S 24 (+7), D 12 (+1), C 20 (+5), I 3 (-4), W 10, Ch 9
> 
> Skills: Listen +21, Spot +21
> 
> Feats (8): Blind-Fight, Combat Reflexes (B), Imp. Crit, INA (bite), Iron Will, Imp. Toughness (x2), W. Focus
> 
> SA/Q: True Strike 1/day, darkvision 60’, fast healing 22, low-light vision, SR 25, scent, resistance (acid/electric 10), alternate form (enemies take -1 morale to hit; included in AC), DR 10/magic


----------



## shilsen

The gigantic ziggurat broods in silence, the clamor of battle having been stilled for over two hours now. The animated plants and their vampiric minions now lie motionless again in the distance. Only the faint gurgling of the underground stream that divides the huge cavern disturbs the quiet. 

Till there is a cracking sound at the rocky ceiling, almost instantly followed by the sound of pieces of earth falling to the cavern floor far below. The noise is accompanied by the appearance of multiple lights, made significantly brighter by their contrast with the unmitigated darkness all around. The source of the illumination is the collection of figures that emerge through a growing hole in the top of the cavern.

Nameless hovers in mid-air and turns to face the ziggurat, only a few hundred feet from where he is. Though neither his darkvision nor the others’ lights extend far enough to see it he can sense the strong emanations of the manifest zone, which he has been aware of even outside the hill far above. At this distance, the flavor of Xoriat is clearly palpable to the alienist. “It’s over there,” he says, pointing, “And there’s definitely a portal open.”

Enitharmon, wings flapping slowly as he hangs beside Nameless, growls, “I sense it too. There is great power here and great ….” He doesn’t complete the sentence, settling for a disgusted grunt. “We must destroy it.”

“That’s the plan,” says the shadowy form of Six, peering warily around the edge of the tunnel above them, as he hangs from its wall. “We’re going to be attacked sooner or later,” the warforged continues, addressing the entire group, “And when we are, let’s act together this time, okay? Nobody charge off without the rest of us – please!”

Korm shifts awkwardly nearby, moving back and forth as his cloaker-wings flap to keep him aloft. The Gatekeeper chuckles, “I won’t take that comment personally. And all right. I promise. Need a ride, Six?”

“That would be helpful.”

As Six clambers onto Korm’s back, a huge flying bear descends past them and Luna grumbles, her voice made tinny by Mordain’s tongue enhancement, which lets her speak in animal form. “Yeah, yeah – can we get a move on now?”

“Yes,” says Gareth, seated on her back, glowing brightly with silver flame which reflects off his armor. “Let’s do this.” The Endless Blade attached to his hand, now in the shape of a falchion, echoes the sentiment in its own way, “Yeah – let’s go f*ck something up!”

Enitharmon chuckles deeply and nods, darting forward and downwards. The others follow in his wake as swiftly as they can, and within a couple of seconds, they see the ziggurat ahead of them. For a moment, it looks exactly the same as it was – a gigantic structure of incredibly dark purple, almost black, stone. The Angels’ lights shine off the detailed carvings on its sides, depicting reptilian and simian monsters wrapped and cradled in endless coils of tentacles. The cracks in its structure are still clearly visible, with the pale, green sections of what looks like diseased flesh beneath. 

But then the Angels notice that a few things are different. The channels which ran from the stream to the ziggurat, with water flowing up its ramp in defiance of gravity, are missing. The great slicks of tacky, dried blood on the ramp have been cleaned away, as has the putrid mold which once swathed two of the ziggurat’s sides. 

“Someone’s been doing housework,” chuckles Korm as the Angels descend onto the ramp, though there is a grim undertone. He glances at Luna, “You didn’t by any chance stop by and clean, did you?”

The druid, having landed heavily and let Gareth off, transforms into her usual tendriculos form and shakes her gigantic head from far above him. “You wish!”

“Well, in that case…”

“Look out!” Six interrupts, flipping his spiked chain into a ready position as he points. Something that the others had missed, hidden in the radiance of their various light sources, was the faint green light welling from beneath the huge stone door at the top of the ramp, and even Six only notices it as the door begins to slide smoothly and swiftly upwards.

As it rises, it reveals a figure standing in the doorway. It is roughly human in shape and size, but the long and living whip-like creature attached to its arm, the breastplate that seems to grow out of its body, and most of all, the aura of sheer, abominable power that emanates from it, all combine to make its unnatural nature evident. The others recognize the general shape, having seen something similar a year ago on the island near Xen’drik, but Nameless instantly knows who it is. The faintly mocking expression in the lavender eyes is one he has seen multiple times earlier, and there is the faintest tickle of a familiar mental whisper which tries – but fails – to penetrate his _mind blank_. 

The daelkyr lord Antaratma stands before them. 

Before any of the Angels can respond, a few things happen in swift succession. With a loud battle-cry, Enitharmon shoots forward, blade swinging in an irresistible arc. Only to impact with a crash on the stone a few inches in front of the daelkyr, who quickly steps backwards further into the ziggurat. Enitharmon follows, howling his fury as he slashes again and again at the shape before him – a shape which, the Angels now realize, is faintly translucent.

Not that they have time to wonder what it means, as the stone door suddenly reverses direction and slams shut, hiding celestial and daelkyr from their view. Just as other problems appear to them.

Specifically to Nameless, whose magical sight reveals scores of magical auras appearing at the edge of the highest step of the ziggurat, fifty feet above him. The alienist shouts, “Enemies above! Three of them!” As he takes flight and rises upwards, the alienist sees the attackers in detail, their bald heads and inhuman features instantly identifying what they are. _Trumpet archons!_ Or were, since leathery wings like Korm’s hang where large feathery pinions once were, and worms protrude from the holes which used to hold celestial eyes.

The three figures stand at the edge of the ziggurat’s top step, each holding a gleaming greatsword, and Nameless’ magical vision reveals two more shapes standing invisibly behind them. These two are mindflayers, each of them wreathed in dozens of magical auras as well, their facial tentacles displaying the characteristic amputations and embedded dragonshards which mark them out as arcanists.

“There are two more!” Nameless shouts, warning his allies as they rise after him, Korm flapping upwards while Luna lifts Six and Gareth along with her.

Unfortunately, that also puts them in prime position as the trumpet archons act in unison. For once, the Angels face enemies who all possess powerful magical power – much to their detriment. Nameless sees magical energy flare for an instant around each of the trio, and an instant later three kaleidoscopic bursts of energy erupt amidst the Angels. Clustered together as they are, all of them are within the area of the blasts, and even though their various protections help to resist most of the energy, most are badly hurt.*

Especially Nameless – who is significantly less durable than the others – and Six. While the combination of the warforged’s natural agility and his shadow-armor wards him against magical attacks such as a _fireball_, these spells attack the mind** rather than just the body. Though he fights off the effects of two spells, the third is too much for him and he collapses from his perch on Luna, only a sudden grab by a huge tentacle saving him from falling.

“Korm! Luna! We need healing!” snaps Nameless, knowing that another such combination of spells will kill him. Acting as swiftly as possible, the alienist calls on the powers granted him by his link to Xoriat and Cyäegha, his flesh straining and popping as eyes emerge all over his body and his arcane powers increase. And then, without pausing, he responds with the same spell that the former archons used.

An instant before Nameless casts, the mind flayers complete the spells they began too, striking him and Gareth with _slashing dispel_s. Luckily, both of them lose only a couple each of their many protections.

Ignoring the pain that accompanies the _dispel_ling, Nameless completes the spell and his _radiant assault_ erupts among the enemies, its power maximized by his ring. But to his disgust, it washes uselessly over both of the mind flayers and one of the archons. And though the other two are affected, neither is taken out of the fight.***

_Sh*t!_ Nameless drops down a little so that the others can reach him, saying quickly, “We need to heal and stop them casting – fast!”

“On it!” says Gareth. The paladin is the least hurt of the group, his aura of silvery flame having absorbed two of the spells and the other having only slightly damaged him. With a loud shout, he shoots forward, propelled by the Endless Blade like a shining meteor.

Charging into the archon in the center before it can raise its sword to parry, Gareth drives it backwards with sheer momentum. Calling aloud to the Silver Flame, he brings down his sword with tremendous force, smiting it and laying open the entire front of its chest. As the archon falls to a knee from the force of the blow, the paladin cries aloud in triumph.    

His shouts are echoed by cries of recrimination and warning from his allies, busy healing each other and now a good forty feet behind him. And all well aware, though Gareth has forgotten it in the heat of battle, of Six’s admonition from only minutes ago.

Gareth realizes his error as the badly wounded archon looks silently up at him with its worm-eyes – and then surges to its feet, greatsword swinging. And its two allies step in too, flanking him on either side, replicating its attacks with almost perfect precision. Beset on three sides, there is only so much Gareth can do to defend himself, and as he blocks one blow, two others strike home, knocking him out of position for the ones that follow. As strike after strike batters through his armor or finds a gap in it, Gareth’s defense weakens. Blood sprays across the top of the ziggurat. 

“Sh*t!” Nameless swears as a final slash sends the paladin down, to lie unmoving in a pool of gore. “We need Gareth up or we’re dead!” 

“This is gonna hurt,” mutters Korm, wings flapping furiously. “Buy me some time!”

As he darts forward, spells from Nameless and Luna flash past the Gatekeeper, doing little damage but rocking the enemies back for a moment. A _haste_ from Six speeds his movement and Korm hurriedly drops to a knee beside Gareth, channeling a _heal_ into the fallen paladin. As he casts an amulet at his throat sparks into life, causing the healing energy to also flow into Korm, closing all of his wounds.

Gareth stirs and groans as he is restored too, and Korm snaps, “Get up – and look out!” The Gatekeeper throws himself backwards as the former archons again step in and three swords slash down.

Luckily for him, but unfortunately, not for Gareth. His position at their feet makes him an easy target as the three attackers again focus on the paladin with unerring precision. Their swords slash down again and again and though Gareth rolls desperately aside, trying to parry and strike back, he has no chance. In seconds, he again lies motionless. 

Except for his head, which slowly rolls across the top of the ziggurat, leaving a streak of blood behind it. The Endless Blade screams.

“Damn! Somebody _do_ something!” shouts Luna, tentacles desperately moving in the motions of a spell.    

“What do you think we’re trying?” snaps Nameless, hurling another spell at the enemies around Gareth’s corpse and Korm, placing it with perfect precision so that it strikes them without touching the Gatekeeper. To the alienist’s frustration and despair, the enemies are either only slightly hurt or untouched. “Xoriat take them – it’s like they’re immune to our spells!”

But the Angels are not, and while the archons switch their focus to Korm, forcing him to retreat hurriedly, the mind flayers retaliate with empowered _cone_s _of cold_ which envelop the other three of their foes. Six leaps and spins with incredible speed between the blasts, emerging unscathed, but Nameless’ protections only help him a little and Luna – slow and lumbering in her current form – is badly hurt. 

Korm barely notices what happened as he backpedals, desperately trying to keep off three greatswords with his own blade at once, and then suddenly they are gone. The archons turn and focus, using swift spells, causing magical _downdraft_s that drive the other Angels downwards. Luna, Six and Nameless strike the lowest level of the ziggurat fifty feet below with bone-jarring force. 

“Look out!” Korm cries, as the archons plummet after them with half-furled wings like giant, humanoid hawks. Reacting instantly, Six’s chain smashes one in its chest as it descends, before curling around its ankle and pulling it off balance. Luna hammers with her tentacles at the others, trying to seize and crush them, but _freedom of movement_ spells keep them out of her grasp and able to respond with their blades, ripping and tearing her part-frozen bark, wounding her critically. 

Ignored for the moment, Nameless glares around in frustration, uncertain what to do. _Maybe Luna can do something – if she’s alive_. The alienist uses a _limited wish_, reshaping the arcane energy to achieve something he cannot normally do, warding Luna with a _rejuvenation cocoon_ like the one the druids use. Three swords clang harmlessly against the translucent force-field and the archons hiss in frustration. 

And promptly turn their attention on Nameless, surrounding and attacking him with the perfect coordination they have shown all fight. Six attempts to intercede, chain flashing back and forth at incredible speed, inflicting multiple – if shallow – wounds, but they ignore him completely. Already wounded, the alienist has no chance, going down in seconds, greenish fluid leaking from his torn and rent corpse.

Above them, Korm calls down his most powerful spell on the two mind flayers. One is unaffected, but the other screams as the _horrid wilting_ rips the moisture from its body, and collapses in a desiccated heap.

Despite his attack, the remaining mind flayer ignores Korm, shifting its attention downwards and beginning to cast. In perfect tactical unison, the archons again shift their focus, leaping up and heading towards the Gatekeeper, ignoring the attacks that Six unleashes as they rise away. Almost before they are in the air, the mind flayer uses a swift _true strike_, followed by a maximized _orb of fire_. Six’s agility is useless against such an attack, and an instant later he lies in a smoking heap beside Luna’s _cocoon_.

 Above, Korm attempts to flap away, but his enemies soar after him, faster and more adroitly than his cloaker-like wings can carry him. Ringing the Gatekeeper, the three archons bring down their greatswords with deadly precision, one of the blows almost cutting him in half. Korm falls out of the air, hitting the ramp of the ziggurat nearly a hundred feet below with bone-crushing force. Mordain’s protections or no, there is no way he could be alive.

Luna, safe for the moment, stares at Korm’s body and then around at her other companions’ corpses littering the area. _I can probably take a few attacks from those bastards. I could leap out when the _cocoon_ ends, grab Korm and maybe Six, and use _master earth_ to get out of here! Or maybe I should grab Gareth? Mordain’ll be able to clone them, I think. But not his sword. But Nameless has the stuff from the dragons. We may need it. What ..._

A rumbling sound interrupts Luna’s frantic thoughts. The doorway to the ziggurat is slowly opening. For a moment, the druid wonders if the planetar has survived, but the hope is short-lived. A roughly spherical object rolls out of the doorway and comes to a halt, rocking gently back and forth. Enitharmon’s head, eyes still wide in an expression of surprise that might have been comical at another time, stares back at Luna.

Behind the planetar’s decapitated head, the door rises to reveal the daelkyr. It seems more solid than before, with deep gashes crisscrossing its torso and dark green fluid dripping from the wounds, and it staggers drunkenly as it moves forward, but the wounds are slowly closing. Antaratma straightens, dropping the planetar’s greatsword clasped in its right hand, still smeared with the blood of Enitharmon. As its gaze takes in the scene, a pleased smile flashes across its inhuman face. 

The daelkyr half-turns, raising its tentacle to the ziggurat above it, and its voice rings through the sudden silence. “The sacrifice is complete. The key is forged. The lock is broken. Arise!” 

Luna stares, wondering what it is speaking to. And then, in the blink of an eye, something changes. A moment ago, the only thing she could see behind the daelkyr was the ziggurat, with its strange stone and huge steps and cyclopean carvings. And now, though it seems to retain its original shape, the ziggurat glows with life. Unnatural life, born and nurtured in cosmic madness, but life nonetheless.

In front of Luna’s disbelieving eyes, what was once stone flexes and then begins to flow apart. What were once steps are now gigantic coils, each of them twenty feet or more in thickness. What were blasphemous carvings are now patterns of scales, the smallest of them the size of a man’s head. And what was once a long, thick ramp begins to rise, reforming into a flat, serpentine head crowned with a forest of eyes and writhing tentacles.

To add to the horror of the sight, as this creature begins to rise, Luna sees each of her companions’ bodies visibly twitch. And then they begin to dissolve into streams of light, varicolored rivers of radiance shot through with bright silver, which flow inexorably towards and into the creature. As they touch it, the monstrosity pulses with energy, seeming to grow larger and more solid with every second. The daelkyr, now perched on the creature’s head, cries out, “Come, Mual-Tar! Feed on the bounty we have prepared for you!”

Luna feels a violent surge of agony and, to her increasing horror, sees a similar stream of light emerging from her body. It stops for a moment as it strikes the wall of the _cocoon_ and then slowly begins to seep through. 

Despite the excruciating pain, Luna’s primary focus is suddenly on the accompanying twitch she feels in her belly. _The kids! I forgot about them! F*ck this – they are not dying here today!_ The shifter drops into a crouch, ignoring the creature outside as it rears up over the _cocoon_. The shifter shuts her eyes, focusing all of her considerable will on one single act.

Mual-Tar, the Chaos-Serpent, Destroyer of Worlds, sees nothing of this. Driven by desires and a hunger beyond anything that those in the cavern – even the daelkyr – can fully understand, all it sees is a tasty morsel. And though a magical barrier intervenes, such things have no power over it. Raising itself to its full height, its head brushing the ceiling two hundred feet above the floor, Mual-Tar’s jaws gape wide and it strikes.

The _cocoon_ crumbles like sand under the attack, but as the globe of force collapses, Luna speaks one word. And as the Chaos-Serpent’s jaws close on nothingness, seven hundred feet above, a tendriculos appears in the sky of the Shadow Marches. 

Luna tumbles out of the air, hitting the ground with tremendous force and leaving a huge crater. For a moment there is silence, and then a large, ungainly eagle flaps its way out of the hole and into the air. Luna painfully soars up and away. Khorvaire must be warned.  

Behind her, the ground around the crater begins to shake.



* Three 14d6 Radiant Assault spells will do that to you.

** Radiant Assault is Save: Will partial

*** With his Aspect up, Nameless needed a 6 to get through the mind flayers and a 9 against the trumpet archons. It was some truly special rolling.


----------



## Dilandau Kale

All I can say is ouch actually pretty surprised any of them survived. Although thankfully I seem to recall you saying you all continued this game a while later. Is it new characters or the same ones?


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## Atlatl Jones

Dilandau Kale said:


> All I can say is ouch actually pretty surprised any of them survived. Although thankfully I seem to recall you saying you all continued this game a while later. Is it new characters or the same ones?



That's actually a very good question. 

Mike (Korm)


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## shilsen

Dilandau Kale said:


> All I can say is ouch actually pretty surprised any of them survived. Although thankfully I seem to recall you saying you all continued this game a while later. Is it new characters or the same ones?






Atlatl Jones said:


> That's actually a very good question.
> 
> Mike (Korm)






To follow on Mike's comment, I'll just say that we continue with seemingly the same characters. You'll see in the next update.


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## carborundum

Wow - three pseudonatural Trumpet archons, two Mind Flayers and a Daelkyr in a pear tree! That's a lot of spell resistance!

Certainly a fitting guard for the centre of the Zoriat portalthingy, I'm guessing the return trip will involve phrases like "loaded for bear" and "this time it's personal"?  

Go Angels!!!!


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Wow - three pseudonatural Trumpet archons, two Mind Flayers and a Daelkyr in a pear tree! That's a lot of spell resistance!




The trumpet archons were just differently flavored, with the only mechanical change being the lack of their trumpets and the replacement of abilities like magic circle vs. evil with magic circle vs. good. I didn't bother to use the pseudonatural template for them. The mind flayers were mechanically just 14th level human wizards, so while they had SR it was from spells. 

I was reskinning before 4e made it cool 



> Certainly a fitting guard for the centre of the Zoriat portalthingy, I'm guessing the return trip will involve phrases like "loaded for bear" and "this time it's personal"?




More like "We need to hit them with something big. Ooh - I see an island!" And I am quoting.


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## ajanders

*Fun Facts about Shilsen*

1. A common question on these boards is "Can Shilsen build a monster big enough to TPK Shilsen?".
2. PC's look under the bed at night to make sure Cthulhu isn't hiding there. Cthulhu looks under his bed at night to make sure Shilsen isn't hiding there.
3.Shilsen caused 4th edition.


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## shilsen

ajanders said:


> 1. A common question on these boards is "Can Shilsen build a monster big enough to TPK Shilsen?".
> 2. PC's look under the bed at night to make sure Cthulhu isn't hiding there. Cthulhu looks under his bed at night to make sure Shilsen isn't hiding there.
> 3.Shilsen caused 4th edition.



  

Hey, AJ - long time no see. How goes it?

And, more generally, there'll probably be a gap for a while before I update next. The semester's starting, so I have a bunch of stuff that'll keep me busy for a bit.


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## Rackhir

Apparently Phil Foglio reads the SH and is a fan of Luna...

Well, just read the first panel anyway.

What's New with Phil & Dixie Online Comics


----------



## shilsen

Once she is far away from the area of the ziggurat, Luna hurriedly descends to the ground and casts a _master earth_, transporting herself away across the Shadow Marches in search of the first person she can think of to contact.

A quarter of an hour later, she is seated across from Saala Torrn, watching horror and surprise writ large across the Gatekeeper leader’s face. “I … I do not know what … what we can do,” the latter says when Luna finishes her narrative, clearly struggling to formulate a response. “There is no way that we can send a strong enough group to the location, considering that you are the most powerful adventurers on Khorvaire. Plus the Gatekeepers and our allies are spread out all over the place, trying to help deal with this situation.” Saala looks at Luna, her expression still somewhat shocked. “Though obviously we discussed the danger, I honestly did not think that we would lose your friends. Your group has survived things unheard of. This is a calamity!” The Gatekeeper struggles to compose herself and then continues, asking almost plaintively, “Do you have any suggestions for what we should do?”

Luna shrugs. “I really don’t know for sure, but we have some options. I’m going to talk to Mordain and also to Jaela. He might have clones or something, and she might be able to use some cleric magic to bring them back. Hopefully.”

Saala’s expression clears slightly. “Do you plan to visit Mordain or contact him via a _sending_? “You will need a powerful cleric to cast the spell, if you do, and we have none available here. But obviously you could find many in Flamekeep.”

“Yes,” Luna replies. “I’m going to go to Thrane first and talk to Jaela, contact Mordain, and then visit him.” Despite the situation, she chuckles. “He doesn’t like visitors.”

Saala smiles weakly in response, and Luna continues, “But I’ll have to do that tomorrow since I’m out of transportation spells. I mostly focused on spells to fight aberrations with.”

“Of course,” says Saala. “We will find you a place to rest when you need to. But now, I have some more questions about this daelkyr. And this creature it unleashed.” She shudders faintly.

“Yeah,” says Luna, with a grimace. “It was big. *Really* big! And…”

* * * * *
The next morning, as planned, Luna arrives at the Cathedral of the Silver Flame, where she is quickly taken to meet Jaela. The Keeper of the Flame takes the news with more equanimity than Saala. 

“I did not expect this news,” Jaela says, with gravity which would be unexpected for an eleven-year old – if that young girl were not the spiritual and political leader of a nation and the voice of the Silver Flame. “But I knew something was wrong. Earlier today I received a vision from the Flame of something being released into Khorvaire which has never been here earlier. I learned no other details, except that it was terrifyingly powerful and will shift the balance of power in this war.” She sighs, causing Skaravojen to rise and whine questioningly from the spot at her feet where he lies.

Jaela rubs the strange guard-beast’s head absentmindedly and says to Luna, “Excuse me for a while. I need to go and see what I can do about this situation. I will have food and drink sent to you.”

“Thanks,” says Luna. “Can you leave him too?”

“Skaravojen?” Jaela asks, surprised. “Err … certainly.” She rises and heads towards the door, commanding the beast, “Stay, Skaravojen.”

The guard-beast rises as Jaela does but then stops at her command. It emits a low whine, shifting back and forth on its multiple legs, but stays in place. Then, as the door closes behind Jaela, it turns its dark eyes to Luna with what looks like concern.

The druid simply grins broadly in reply. “Gotcha!” And then she leaps.

. . .

Jaela returns an hour later, her face even more worried than it was when she left. Ignoring Luna’s disheveled appearance and the way that Skaravojen leaps on her in relief, the Keeper takes her seat. “We have … a problem. I attempted a _true resurrection_, which would allow me to bring back the soul of anyone who has been dead for the last 180 years, however they may have died. As long as they were powerful enough to come back from the other side – which your friends clearly are – and willing to return – which I assume they are. And nothing happened.”

“Oh! What does that mean?”

“I wanted to know too, so I then _commune_d with the Flame, asking many questions of it. It seems that the souls of the Angels – well, not yours, of course – have been utterly consumed by the creature you saw. They cannot be brought back via normal methods.”

“Wait? What – like they’re, um, dead dead? Forever?”

 Jaela sighs. “I certainly hope not. The Flame indicated that there are signs of their passing and their imprint on this world, though I’m not sure what that means, and that there might be a way to bring them back. I think it might have something to do with their – your – unique nature. I do think talking to Mordain is a good idea, since he had a major role in changing all of you to your present forms. Perhaps that is a factor here too. If you want, I can contact him for you.” 

Luna asks Jaela to send the following message: _“Angels dead. Except me. Died fighting in Shadow Marches. Unable to resurrect, maybe since you changed us. Request your help. Am coming to you. Luna.”_

Seconds later, Jaela receives the response in Mordain's distinctively uninflected tones: _“Not possible. Modifications do not preclude resurrection. Also, deaths should activate clones I possess. Give me a day. Come here tomorrow morning at sunrise. Alone.”_

Once that is done, Luna also contacts Essirise, the Chamber dragon in Argonnessen, with another _sending_: _“Guardian Angels dead. Except me – Luna. Died fighting in Shadow Marches. Unable to resurrect them. Need any help that is available. Circumstances very dire!”_

The reply from Essirise is: _“Condolences and sympathies. Shall investigate options for bringing back your companions. Need you all for Conclave. Am awaiting word from them. Will contact you soon.”_

After having relayed the responses, Jaela then asks Luna, “What will you do now? Is there anyone else you think you should contact or who can help?”

Luna scratches her chin thoughtfully and then sets off on a monologue, as much to herself as to Jaela: “Hmmmm .... I don’t know if I can think of anyone else who might be useful ... or of sufficient power to do anything. I know kings and mayors and stuff ... but they all seem pretty impotent. Heh! Important/impotent – get it? Anyway, I mean ... when trouble came... they called us!” Luna frowns thoughtfully. “What about those nice vampire people? Or maybe even the Children of Winter?” Then her frown deepens. “Where are the great dragon-marked snobs now, I wonder. Probably preventing some perfectly nice person from flying an airship while Eberron is being destroyed!  Humph!”

Jaela opens her mouth to interject something, but Luna keeps going, shifting topics rapidly. “I was going to use _master earth_ to travel to Mordain ...  since it’s so fast. Unless something precludes that. And I have to wait till tomorrow. I suppose I could start measuring the closets in the other rooms at the house ... just to see where my stuff would fit best. And what stuff should be donated to the poor. If Sharn should survive all this. I am going to definitely have the room Nameless occupied fumigated! And Gareth’s  taste is so stuffy! It might help distract me from my amazing grief. Re-decorating always does relax me so. And there are the baby’s rooms to consider. Babies’, actually. Also ... I may have to be a dire wolf and sit on the roof and howl long and hard tonight in memory of my fallen comrades. It would only be appropriate.” 

Luna looks sad for a moment and then perks up. “Hmmm ... I wonder if anyone has any cool magic stuff I haven’t played with before stowed back at the house? Maybe a cool crystal ball or something pretty!”

As Luna beams at the thought, Jaela finally gets to interrupt, saying carefully, as if unsure if she has accurately gleaned what the druid was saying, “So you’ll be heading back to Sharn to … mourn your companions?”

“Yup!”

Luna does leave shortly afterwards, travelling back to Sharn via another _master earth_, appearing in the depths of the city and then winging her way back up to the Gray House as a gigantic bat. She finds things much the same as when they last left the city, though more repairs have been made and people seem marginally less traumatized by the attacks than they had been. The appearance of a huge bat nearby, however, quickly provides a number of unfortunate citizens with the fear and confusion they had recently recovered from.

When Luna arrives at the Gray House, she is met by Fett, who asks what happened and is just as horrified as everyone has been thus far with the answer. Once Luna has explained what occurred in graphic detail, the changeling major-domo excuses himself to go and arrange for dinner. He also informs Trillia, who is still at the house, of Luna’s return. Once they speak, Nameless’ former mentor is clearly quite upset about the news Luna brings and hurriedly departs to the room she has been given in the house, not reappearing throughout Luna’s short stay. 

So Luna is free to spend the rest of the evening wandering around and checking everyone’s rooms, just as she had planned. This process involves checking the closets, bouncing on the beds (while changing forms to work out how strong they are, which doesn’t work out that well for all of them), examining everything in the room which has the least pretension to being shiny, and beginning to redecorate a bit. Which is followed by moving a number of her things into the room used by Gareth, who had the largest one in the house.

Luna eventually takes a break and settles down to a very hearty dinner. And then finally heads to the roof, where she spends some time tending the garden, chatting with the two small treants who live there, and changing shape into a giant wolf and howling sadly at the moons to her heart’s content. There is the faint sound of windows and doors slamming nearby, but none of the neighbors are foolish enough to show up and complain. 

Finally, after a good hour of howling, Luna decides she has done her duty in mourning her absent friends and heads down to Gareth’s room, where she sprawls on the double bed and falls asleep.

* * * * *
Next morning, as asked by Mordain, Luna travels to the Fleshweaver’s home, waiting outside the protective barrier that surrounds it with unusual patience by her standards. Once he emerges and brings her inside, Mordain seems much more animated and actually upset than she has seen him to be on their previous meetings. Which, admittedly, translates to him being slightly other than completely unemotional. 

“Relate what occurred at the ziggurat,” Mordain says, sinking into a sitting position and floating before Luna. “Do not omit any details.” 

Luna proceeds to do so and continues for nearly an hour, her long and rambling narrative prolonged by the probing questions that the Fleshweaver constantly inserts, as well as his critical commentary about actions on the Angels’ part which he considers flawed. 

Once she is finally done, Mordain says, a faint frown in his voice which belies the unmoving mask that is his face, “Your information is valuable. I have already studied the situation and you are correct – your companions cannot be brought back by conventional magical means. And their clones that I have are not activating. I do not have knowledge of this Mual-Tar creature and I cannot rule out the possibility that it permanently consumed their souls. There is also a possibility that their souls are being held somewhere or constrained in some way, denying access to them for purposes of resurrection.”

Luna frowns, much more deeply than the Fleshweaver, and chews her fingernails thoughtfully. “That would all be bad! Though their souls not being permanently gone would be better.”

“Correct,” says Mordain. “I hope that they have not been destroyed – since I have invested significant effort and value in their modification, and they were intended to prevent Xoriat from interfering with my research.” His tone turns very faintly petulant. “This is an unnecessary aggravation. I had hoped that they would do better.” Then he pauses for an instant, before saying firmly, “I shall spend some time researching both Mual-Tar and this situation, as well as the presence of a daelkyr in Khorvaire. I shall inform you when I find a solution.” There is not the faintest uncertainty in his tone. “Do you have any questions?”

Luna can’t think of anything else to bring up, so she says, “No. Umm, thanks.” 

* * * * *
Later that day, after she has returned to Sharn, Luna receives an urgent _sending_ from Saala Torrn: “Aberrations about to attack Zarash’ak, the capital. Army only minutes from city. Includes the Mual-Tar creature. Gatekeepers and others preparing defense. Need aid – NOW!” 

Luna simply responds, _“I’m on my way!”_ and hurriedly leaves, sinking into the ground and emerging moments later in the Shadow Marches on the outskirts of Zarash’ak, to find herself between two armies. 

Much closer to her is a force of about two thousand, consisting almost exclusively of orcs, half-orcs and humans.. Since the ‘city of stilts’ offers almost nothing in the way of defensive fortifications, the defenders have drawn themselves up at the edge of Zarash’ak. The majority of them are Marchers, drawn from the clans and tribes of the area, as evidenced by the tribal insignia that many bear and the war banners above them. At the center of the army, waving above a somewhat better armed and armored contingent, is the manticore banner of House Tharask. A number of animals are also present, some of them presumably druids.

On the other side, swarming slowly but inexorably across the swampy river delta around Zarash’ak is the aberration horde. It is significantly larger than the one Luna and the other angels had destroyed, outnumbering the defenders nearly three to one. As always, thousands of dolgrims make up the bulk of the army, commanded by scores of dolgaunts. Other, more powerful aberrations – such as mind flayers – move among the ranks, commanding the dolgaunts in turn. Hundreds of flying forms swarm the air above, most of them cloakers, though the ovoid shapes of a few beholders are also present. But none of these are the most troubling issue. At the rear of the army, its head towering two hundred feet in the air, slithers Mual-Tar, the Chaos Serpent. Even the other aberrations give it a wide space, those nearest to it hurrying as fast as they can, perhaps to keep away from the Serpent as much as in eagerness to begin the battle.

Luna swiftly transforms into an eagle and wings her way towards the Marcher lines, where a couple of minutes of searching leads her to Saala Torrn. The leader of the Gatekeepers is surrounded by a number of warriors and other druids, apparently planning the defense. 

When Luna flies down and returns to her natural form, Saala looks very relieved. “I’m very pleased you’re here,” she says quickly, before waving a hand at the approaching army, “Since we have _that_ to deal with. We collected as many Gatekeepers as we could at short notice, especially since there were more of us here than usual, due to the refugees. With the magic at our disposal, I wouldn’t be that concerned about the army – except for the giant snake.”

One of the orcs standing nearby, a tattooed and scarred warrior who would rival Korm in size, grunts, “Make us an opening to the snake with your magic, and we shall deal with it.” He raises his greataxe above his head and waves it at the aberration forces, bellowing loudly as he does so. Other voices join in, causing a ripple of defiant war-cries to spread through the defending force. Saala seems less convinced, but she smiles slightly. 

Luna looks at the burly orc who spoke, noticing the blue tattoos of snakes that cover his forearms, and a distant memory strikes her. “Hey, you’re one of those River Snakes! Your people tried to kill us some, er, four months ago!” Her brow furrows. “Don’t you guys worship the Dragon Below or something?”

The large orc frowns too, and then mutters, sounding slightly embarrassed, “I heard about that event. It was an error. And we fight the aberrations now, so …”

He stops and turns to glare at another orc, who snickered loudly, and Saala quickly steps in. “We need to focus on the attack. Now,” she says, speaking both to Luna and the others present, “Here is what we are planning. It’s fairly simple and, hopefully, effective. When they attack…”

A few minutes later, she stands with Luna in the front lines, awaiting the assault that is only moments away. In front of them, the aberration army moves in with little sign of strategy, spreading into a huge crescent shape. As they near the Marcher lines, their speed increases, the faster aberrations beginning to leave the others behind. The cloakers and other flying creatures also swoop forward, outpacing the fastest of those on the ground.

Saala studies the horde, waiting patiently. And then, at her command, the defenders strike.

The attackers begin with a few volleys of arrows and crossbow bolts, and though the damage inflicted is slight, it has the effect of causing many of the dolgrims to pause to fire back, further fragmenting the enemy formation. And then Luna casts. In the midst of the aberration force, a hundred and sixty foot wide circle of swamp convulses as she creates an _earthquake_, causing hundreds of aberrations to fall. Giant fissures open up, which many tumble into, screaming uselessly, before the cracks grind shut and still their cries. 

The damage as well as the effect on the aberration force is tremendous, causing the entire center of the assault to slow and break up, further fragmenting the assault. The effect is only exacerbated when Luna follows with a _fire storm_, which envelops and incinerates most of those within a three hundred foot swathe of the army. And now the other Gatekeepers follow her lead, _flame strike_s and _ice storm_s battering the aberration force, while Saala adds a _fire storm_ of her own. And then the Marcher forces charge the wavering horde. 

The aberrations respond with a huge barrage of crossbow, slaying scores of the attackers. A few mind flayers unleash cones of mental force into the charging Marchers, stunning many, while cloakers further disrupt the attack with cries that strike panic into their enemies. Gauths fly overhead, eyebeams shooting back and forth, while one or two beholders do so with even more devastating effect.

Despite the losses, the Marchers smash into their opposing force. The slaughter on both sides is tremendous, but for the moment the mighty barbarian warriors force back the aberration line. Dozens of druids now soar overhead in the forms of birds, using their spells to further hamper the aberrations on the ground while also attempting to sweep the flying enemies from the air. Dozens of cloakers go down in flame, while the corpses of gauths bob gently above the battlefield.

For a few minutes, the aberration line threatens to buckle, their edge in numbers being more than compensated for by the fury of the Marcher barbarians and, specially, the magic and area effects of the druids. And then, slowly but inexorably, the balance of power shifts – as Mual-Tar joins the battle.

The gigantic serpent, making its leisurely way across the landscape, has been momentarily left behind, but now it reaches the fringe of the conflict. Mual-Tar does not speed up or slow down, but simply slithers onto the battlefield, using its giant bulk and strength to crush whatever – aberration or enemy – is in its path. While doing so, it pauses only to strike with surprising speed at a particularly powerful, or presumably appetizing-looking, foe, sometimes seizing a dozen individuals at once. Some of the Marchers fire arrows at it and a few foolhardy ones even attack, but their weapons glance harmlessly from its scales as if they were solid stone. Only the mightiest of blows seem to even scratch it, and nobody has a chance to do that twice. Some of the druids switch their focus to it, but their spells too glance harmlessly off its form.

And that is not the worst of its effects. As Mual-Tar joins the fray, the magic of the druids begins to falter and fail. First it is those within a hundred feet of it that feel the effects, and then two hundred feet away, and then three hundred. In less than a minute, all those using spells within five hundred feet of the serpent find their magic going awry. At first they simply weaken, sometimes affecting less targets, scorching where they would have incinerated, or just fizzling on impact. Then a druid casts her last _ice storm _ on a group of aberrations and screams as the magical hailstorm appears around her instead. Another tries to hurl a bolt created by a _produce flame_, only to find the fire first sticking to his arm and then beginning to consume it. And, finally, their spells simply stop working, having no effect at all. Those affecting themselves still seem to function, most of the time, but they cannot affect others. It is as if the area around the Chaos Serpent is completely anathematic to magic. 

Without access to offensive magic, the defenders find themselves severely disadvantaged, not just by the numbers but because the supernatural abilities of the aberrations still seem to work. They are apparently somewhat affected by Mual-Tar’s aura, sometimes fizzling out as well, but they work sometimes, unlike the druids’ spells. Slowly, the aberrations gain control of the field, swarming over the Marchers facing them. And through it all slithers Mual-Tar, crushing and devouring whatever it encounters.

Saala Torrn, like the remaining druids, desperately changes shape into a form in which she can function without spells. Becoming a dire bear, she charges in, attempting to bolster the crumbling defense. For a few moments, the Gatekeeper leader still dares hope, as she claws and bites her way through multiple foes, other Marchers joining her. And then she feels a strange ripple of energy and her ursine form melts away, just as a giant shadow falls on her.

Luna, by far the largest combatant in sight besides Mual-Tar, is single-handedly holding back dozens of aberrations, when she hears her name screamed. She turns to see Saala across the battlefield, shouting frantically, “Luna! Flee! Warn everyone about ….” And then Mual-Tar strikes, its giant maw enveloping the Gatekeeper.

For a moment, Luna thinks of fighting on, but then she sighs and casts another _master earth_. The last thing she sees as she disappears is the aberration forces overwhelming the few remaining Marchers, and the flames rising along the edges of Zarash’ak.  

* * * * *
Once back in Sharn, Luna quickly informs the gnomes of House Sivis about the existence of Mual-Tar and the fall of Zarash’ak, so that they can spread the word. And soon news begins to come in of new aberration armies erupting all over Khorvaire, some emerging from the depths of Khyber and others coming through the portals from Xoriat. Many of them seem to emerge from the Mournland as well, raiding areas around its borders before retreating back within. 

And news comes, first from the Shadow Marches and then from its borders, that Mual-Tar is moving. The Chaos Serpent leads an ever-growing army north and east, ravaging the Marches and destroying whatever stands before it as it proceeds towards the heart of Khorvaire.

The next few days are intensely frustrating for Luna, who travels back and forth among her various allies, attempting to learn and lend aid wherever she can, but there are too many places to be and too much to do. Especially since her magic is apparently useless against Mual-Tar, though she makes up for it by wreaking havoc on any other aberration forces that she can find. 

Nearly a week after the first appearance of the Chaos Serpent, Luna receives a message from the dragon Essirise. The latter says that the Conclave has agreed to hear the Chamber speak on the subject of aiding Khorvaire, and asks Luna to meet her in Io’lokar as soon as possible. Luna promptly travels to Argonnessen, where Essirise meets her. The silver dragon then transports her back to the valley Vorel’arux, where the Angels first met and spoke to other representatives of the Chamber. 

There, half a dozen dragons await Luna, including Jancarlyrix. The gargantuan bronze wyrm, representative of the Chamber to the Conclave, explains to the druid that they have found a way which will hopefully allow them to persuade the Conclave to help in Khorvaire. However, in order to do so they require Luna’s presence, since Jancarlyrix hopes to prove that she – and the other Angels – are agents of the Draconic Prophecy. Considering the degree to which the dragons of Argonnessen both study and revere the Prophecy, this sort of appeal has the best chance – or so the bronze wyrm opines – of working. 

There is, as usual, a small hitch. No non-dragon has ever appeared before the Conclave. “You,” he explains, “Will have to submit to a version of the _temporal stasis_ spell, which will place you in suspended animation and allow the Conclave to study you at their leisure.”

Luna frowns. “How long will that take? And what about the fact that the others are dead – and I can’t bring them back!”

The dragon’s tone is sympathetic but firm as he replies. “It will take as long as it does. As for the other Angels, if we can persuade the Conclave to help, it is likely that they will be able to bring back your friends too. As you know, we have resources here that exist nowhere else in the world.”

Luna’s first instinct is to make a biting comment about how it would be nice if the dragons actually used these resources rather than sitting on their giant reptilian asses, but for once she restrains herself. “All right. I agree.”

* * * * *  
Later...

Jaela looks up at Cedric. “So we are certain then. The creature is leading its army directly to Flamekeep.”

The paladin scratches his stubble and nods. “Yes. Absolutely certain – or as much as I can be.” He chuckles grimly. “We will do what we can, but I could really use the Angels. No news of them, I guess”

The Keeper shakes her head.

“How long has it been? Since you saw Luna last?”

Jaela sighs. “It will be two months tomorrow.”


----------



## Dilandau Kale

Did Luna and the........ Actually the less I know the better my sanity will be in this case.


----------



## Rackhir

Dilandau Kale said:


> Did Luna and the........ Actually the less I know the better my sanity will be in this case.




This exchange was over the first panel of the "What's New?" comic I posted.



			
				Me said:
			
		

> Oh yes we do. Why do you think none of us can sleep at night....
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Luna said:
> 
> 
> 
> 
> You guys just don't know what you're missing! LOL!!
Click to expand...


----------



## Rackhir

We had a very entertaining session tonight. We got to run into some "old friends" and I got to break out my best Evil Laugh....


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## Furby076

I got to be a dragoon, ala final fantasy


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## carborundum

First time I read that I thought it said Dragon!

Glad you're having a blast! The more fun you guys have the more cool stuff we all get to read


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> First time I read that I thought it said Dragon!




Me too! I was thinking, "Wait a sec - I was DMing and I don't remember Gareth becoming a dragon!"



> Glad you're having a blast! The more fun you guys have the more cool stuff we all get to read




On that note, I've had lots of work recently, which is why my gaming time has mostly been focused on prepping stuff for the game rather than the story hour. But I'm on spring break for a week, so expect some updating after a few days.


----------



## Furby076

carborundum said:


> First time I read that I thought it said Dragon!
> 
> Glad you're having a blast! The more fun you guys have the more cool stuff we all get to read






shilsen said:


> Me too! I was thinking, "Wait a sec - I was DMing and I don't remember Gareth becoming a dragon!"




That's what happens when you turn around for a split second, the paladin sneaks a dragon right behind your back 



shilsen said:


> On that note, I've had lots of work recently, which is why my gaming time has mostly been focused on prepping stuff for the game rather than the story hour. But I'm on spring break for a week, so expect some updating after a few days.




My apologies to all the readers.  We ran out of duct tape and Shilsen escaped from the dungeon, my basement, where we keep him until he finishes dming.


----------



## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> Glad you're having a blast! The more fun you guys have the more cool stuff we all get to read




Oh all the toys are coming out of the box at this point.


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## carborundum

<burns>Eeeeexcellent!</burns>


@Avi, Rackhir: Yeah! Kick butts and take names! Stoopid Xoriat abominable monstrosity thinks it can get the better of the Angels? I don't think so!

@Shilsen: No worries mate, it'll be ready when it's ready. And my instant email notification will be waiting!


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> @Shilsen: No worries mate, it'll be ready when it's ready. And my instant email notification will be waiting!




And here it is...

* * * * * * * * * *
Two days later…

The huge room, due to its location and nature, is one which has been occupied by many powerful and unusual individuals. Deep within the Cathedral of the Silver Flame, atop the central peak of the rocky mountain at the heart of Flamekeep, it has long been the favored magical sanctum of the Keeper of the Flame, a place where Jaela (and previously, her predecessors) can retire to cast her most powerful spells undisturbed. Angels have stood within the summoning circle in the center, and even, on rare cases, fiends. On half a dozen occasions, powerful entities have battled to the death within this chamber’s walls. 

But no collection of individuals this unique has ever gathered here. The diminutive Keeper stands at the apex of the pentagram inscribed in the central circle, focusing on its center. At the point of the star on her left side stands Trillia Lelleir, Nameless’ former mentor, one of the most powerful arcanists in Sharn – and by far the weakest person in the room. That fact might explain her furrowed brow, or perhaps it is the presence of the figure on her left. He is an ancient elf, completely hairless, the skin pulled tight over his head and face to give it a skull-like appearance. The small purple tentacles around his right wrist writhe gently, while the fingers of his disproportionately muscular right arm move in the gestures of a spell. The normally expressionless visage of Mordain the Fleshweaver shifts into a ghastly smile.

The two other points of the pentagram are occupied by a comparatively innocuous-looking pair of individuals, a young man and an elven woman, both dressed in a style which fits nothing found among the varied species and metropolises of Khorvaire. The reason is obvious – to those who know these are Essirise and Karaglen, both silver dragons, members of the Chamber in Argonnessen.

All five of them concentrate on the figure at the center of the pentagram, a young shifter, though her appearance and accoutrements make it clear that she is hardly normal either. Luna’s eyes are shut and sweat beads on her face. Around her, placed in small piles, are the gems which she and her companions found in the Cyst in the Mournland. Their combined light gleams brightly on her, strangely seeming to only shine inwards and not towards those standing around the pentagram.

The glow intensifies and Luna grunts softly. Essirise urgently whispers, “Keep concentrating! We have only one chance at this. Focus your mind on what the other Angels were like. Their mannerisms. Habits. The magical items they carried. The clothing they wore. Everything that you can recall.” 

“I am, I am!” Luna replies, eyes still closed in concentration. As more sweat drips off her face, she grumbles, “And I have a horrible headache! Is that supposed to happen?”

“Unfortunately,” Essirise responds, her tone soothing, “That is a likely indicator that the ritual is working, since we are reconstructing the other Angels from the images in your mind.” As Luna opens her mouth in what is clearly another protest, Essirise quickly forestalls her. “The ritual is almost complete. Please continue to focus!”

The shifter mutters something opprobrious under her breath but complies, as the illumination from the gems visibly begins to increase. In seconds, it seems as if Luna is standing under a very bright summer sky, though those around the circle still remain partly in shadow. 

Then, the gems pulse once, twice and a third time, each flash of light stronger than the previous one – and wink out. Slowly, all six hundred and sixty-six of them crumble into dust, which then disappears into nothingness. Not that anyone else in the room pays attention, since all eyes are on the four figures that appear out of seeming nothingness as the light of the gems finally disappears.    

Korm, sword still in hand, looks around in confusion. “How did we get back here?”

Beside him, Gareth wipes a hand across an equally surprised face and bows to Jaela. “Did you raise us, Keeper? We were killed, correct?”

“It certainly felt like it,” Six mutters quietly as he moves forward, smoothly putting away his spiked chain. 

Nameless says nothing for a few seconds, dispassionately considering the collection of people in the room. Finally, as he follows Six, the alienist says calmly, “Clearly this was more than a simple _raise dead_ or even a _resurrection_. Which leads to the obvious question – precisely how deep is the sh*t we are currently in?”

While the others emerge from the circle, Luna stands stock-still within it, staring around her with an expression which shifts from joy to confusion to irritation. “You were all dead! We brought you back! With lots and lots of effort! So! You! Are! WELCOME!”

* * *
Over the next couple of hours, the revived Angels are filled in by the others—except for Mordain, who leaves moments later (after having congratulated them on their resurrection and commented acerbically that they should not be so remiss as to die again)—exactly how they were returned to life, and also informed about the current situation in Khorvaire. Luna, Jaela and Essirise take turns, often simultaneously, at narrating the information and events, while Karaglen and Trillia put in a word or two at moments.  

 They explain that the dragon Conclave in Argonnessen, as is usually the case on subjects of great moment, deliberated for a long time over the question of whether—and how—to get involved in the Xoriat invasion. They discussed the question for a month and a half, carefully studying Luna—who remained in stasis throughout the period—as they did so. Finally, they were persuaded by a combination of the eloquence of Jancarlyrix, representative of the Chamber, and the testimony of some of the most revered dragon sages that the Prophecy indicated the daelkyr invasion would require involvement by the dragons, and that the Angels still had a key role to play. The Conclave agreed to allow members of the Chamber to involve themselves in the efforts against the daelkyr, but would not otherwise commit any of Argonnessen’s might to the cause. 

Once the decision was reached, Luna was released from stasis. Jancarlyrix informed her that he would speak to others of the Chamber and see however many of the dragons would be willing to help in Khorvaire. When Luna said that she was pleased for the aid but would have to return to Khorvaire instantly, Essirise said that she would accompany Luna to help bring the Angels back. The dragon alienist Karaglen, who had used his knowledge of Xoriat to research a method that he hoped would work, said that he would go too.

When Luna returned to Sharn with the two dragons, she found things drastically changed since she had left. Over two months had passed since the death of the other Angels. The forces of Xoriat had increased their presence and assaults, despoiling large swathes of Khorvaire. While none of the major nations had actually fallen, with all of them still primarily held by their native forces, all of them had suffered, especially Aundair and Thrane. Sharn had been attacked once more and, though the assault was repelled quite easily, many people did die in the fighting, including Tasra d’Deneith, sister to Gareth’s fiancée Lalia.  

More worryingly, after the destruction of the capital of the Shadow Marches, the Chaos Serpent, Mual-Tar, had slowly headed north and east, accompanied by some of the army that had crushed the Marcher forces outside Zarash’ak. As it travelled, more aberrations joined it, until it led a horde that numbered in the tens of thousands. The giant army, far larger than any aberration force that had been seen in Khorvaire thus far, made its way up through the Shadow Marches, across southern Aundair and into southwest Thrane, destroying whatever stood in its way. And then, once inside Thrane, it headed directly in a straight line for Flamekeep. Which it was likely to reach in less than a week when Luna returned.

Luna and the two dragons quickly travelled to Flamekeep, where they met Jaela and explained Karaglen’s plan. Unable to draw upon the powers of draconic magic, which he was neither skilled in nor allowed to use in Khorvaire (on pain of death, at the Conclave’s command), the dragon alienist had decided to draw upon the unique nature of the Angels. After all, none of the Angels was what they had once been. Over the course of their adventures, they had been blessed by the Silver Flame, transformed by the Fleshweaver’s eldritch powers, and touched by Xoriat. Karaglen created a ritual to unite the forces of powerful spellcasters representing all these sources—Jaela, Mordain, Trillia—and aided by Essirise and himself, powered by the reality-warping magic inherent in the gems obtained from the Cyst, which would actually reconstitute the Angels based on the detailed memories Luna had of them.

Though all of them were somewhat dubious about the possibility, those whom Karaglen needed agreed to provide help, and the ritual was carried out. With, apparently, complete success.

Once the explanation is over, Korm asks, his expression quizzical, “So what exactly are we? Was that a fancy way of saying you resurrected or reincarnated us?”

“Neither,” says Karaglen. “We remade you. So you are what you were. Exactly as you were. Or, more precisely, everything that Luna remembered of you.”

As Luna beams around, Gareth looks up from his left hand and says, “He’s right. I had a small birthmark on the back of my little finger. It’s gone now. I’m guessing Luna never saw it.”

Nameless mutters, mostly to himself, “Gods! Now we really _are_ figments of Luna’s imagination!” He shakes his head and continues, a little louder, “Interesting. I’d like to learn more about this, but it seems we have more pressing issues to deal with?”

“Yes,” says Jaela heavily. “The serpent. Mual-Tar. And its army.”

“How far away are they now?” asks Six.

As he speaks, the door opens and a figure walks in, wearing both his habitual battered armor and rough stubble. Cedric cocks an eyebrow at the assemblage and then says dryly, “I have your answer, Six. Two days. Three at the most.”

Once Cedric has congratulated the Angels on their return, he begins to explain the situation with the aberration force, which he has been shadowing and harrying for over a week now, with most of the cavalry of Flamekeep. His attacks have slowed their advance, but there is little else he can do at the moment, since he is heavily outnumbered. The army led by Mual-Tar has swelled with more aberrations emerging from the Mournland (which, during the Angels’ absence, multiple aberration armies have entered and appeared from), till it now numbers well over twenty thousand.  

“We can’t keep them from reaching Flamekeep,” Cedric says flatly. “All we can decide is how best to resist them.” He looks over the Angels. “We got you back at just the right time, it seems.”

“I feel very lucky,” Nameless rasps in return. “Has there been any sighting of Antaratma? A daelkyr lord’s presence should not go unnoticed.”

“No,” says Jaela, “And he seems invisible to divinations. I’ve tried. Perhaps he’s in the Mournland?”

“Perhaps. If he’s not with the army, that does help us. A bit.”

“Yeah,” says Luna, “But that damn snake is with them. And I already told you what it can do.”

“Yes,” replies Six, “But we also have an army to think of. What is the situation here?”

Cedric begins to explain, at one point producing a map of Flamekeep and laying it out for everyone to study. “Most of the people have been evacuated already,” he says, “And we’re leaving this bridge,” he indicates the northern one of the three giant bridges that link the island of Flamekeep to the land surrounding it, “For more evacuation. We actually destroyed this southern bridge already, so we can channel the aberrations towards the eastern bridge. That’ll force them to attack from a narrower front and make defense easier.”

Gareth studies the map and muses aloud, “It’s a pity that they have such an advantage in numbers. If you could hit them hard enough with your cavalry when they are attacking from the east, it would drive them back against—or even into—the bay.”

Cedric grimaces slightly. “I wish. Unfortunately, there’s no chance of doing that with what we have.”

“Wait,” says Korm. “If we can’t drive them into the bay, why not bring the bay to them?”

Luna looks at the Gatekeeper quizzically. “You mean with some of my—our—_control winds_ spells? I don’t think that would do it.”

“No,” Jaela adds. “There just would not be enough wind to do it, especially considering the cliffs in the area. You’d need something like a tidal wave or something.”

“For which,” Nameless adds, “Wind would be insufficient. A large earthquake would be necessary. Much larger and more protracted than even a series of _earthquake_ spells can create. Which is clearly beyond our capabilities,” he pauses for a moment, “But dropping a sufficiently large mass into the bay would achieve it.” 

“Large? You’d need something gigantic.”

“True,” the alienist nods. “Like when the northern edge of the island of Trebez Shinara collapsed and decimated the fleets in the Lhazaar Principalities during the Last War.”

A huge grin spreads across Korm’s face and he wordlessly stabs a thick finger down on the map, resting it on a spot at the far corner, a spot which would be barely visible from Flamekeep.

Six looks down at the painted shape beneath Korm’s finger and then says, “Thronehold. Former capital of Galifar.”

There is a collective silence and then finally a long, low whistle from Cedric. And then the paladin begins to laugh.


----------



## ajanders

You made the fate of the party depend on Luna's ability to concentrate.

Sweet furry gods of good, Shil, you're cruel.

Kinder just to close out the campaign and start a new one in a post-apocalyptic Eberron.

So the whole party is now 50 lbs heavier and allergic to gold?


----------



## carborundum

LOL! Genius!
And they're going to do WHAT???


----------



## shilsen

ajanders said:


> You made the fate of the party depend on Luna's ability to concentrate.
> 
> Sweet furry gods of good, Shil, you're cruel.
> 
> Kinder just to close out the campaign and start a new one in a post-apocalyptic Eberron.
> 
> So the whole party is now 50 lbs heavier and allergic to gold?




  



carborundum said:


> LOL! Genius!
> And they're going to do WHAT???




This is why I love this bunch. They're just as insane as the aberrations!

* * * * *
“What … exactly are you planning?” asks Jaela, looking both curious and concerned.

“If we could drop a large enough piece of Thronehold into the bay,” Nameless rasps, fingers moving over the map to illustrate his point, “It would create a significant wave. If we both strengthen and channel it via the spells that we,” he glances at Luna and Korm, “Especially you, have at our command, we can ensure that it strikes here,” he indicates the land off the eastern side of Flamekeep, “With sufficient force to flood the area.”

“And here,” Cedric joins in, leaning forward to indicate the large bridge which links Flamekeep to this area, “Is the bridge that the aberrations will aim to cross to reach the city. And our defensive forces, especially with your aid, could hold them here,” he adds, indicating an area of battlements extending around the bridge and the Orien rail station near it. He grimaces. “For a time.”

“I like it!” Gareth says. “It’s a strong defensive position, which we can channel the enemy into. But we’re badly outnumbered, right?” At Cedric’s nod, he turns to the other Angels. “Can you time it well enough that the wave will hit them at the right time?”

Nameless shrugs. “We cannot be completely precise, of course, but we should be able to time it to within a few minutes. Considering the size of the aberration army, they will be a large and slow enough target. And once we hit them…”

“Then it’s time for the _real_ fun to occur,” chuckles Korm grimly. He turns to look at Luna, expecting a similarly bloodthirsty attitude, only to be met by an unusually worried expression.

“That’s all well and good,” grumbles the Gatekeeper, “But what about the damn snake? I already told you about what it can do. I don’t think a flood’s going to stop it.”

“True. That is one reason I wished to use a wave primarily created by natural forces, so it would be unaffected by its null-magic field.” Nameless frowns thoughtfully. “But we shall also have to see what more we can learn of it in the interim.”

“I told you the bloody thing’s immune to divinations,” growls Luna, jerking a thumb at Jaela. “She already tried.”

“I see,” Nameless replies placidly, before smiling thinly. “But I might have a few options that others don’t have.” 

Six, listening silently thus far, then turns to Cedric and Jaela. “What do you think? Is this plan a possibility? And do we have time to gather any other allies?”

Jaela hesitates, clearly still somewhat perplexed by the idiosyncratic nature of the Angels’ scheme, but Cedric replies. “It’s insane! Which is why it’s the only thing I’ve heard this far that has a chance of working. As for allies, we could use everyone that we can get, but the rest of Khorvaire is a little too busy with their own problems to care about Flamekeep.”

“We shall have to try to remedy that,” Six replies. “But we need to move fast.”

“Yes,” says Cedric. “Now, I have a couple of suggestions to add. For example, what my cavalry and I will be doing, both before and after the wave hits. See, here…”

* * *
After a fair amount of discussion, the gathering breaks up to do different things. Cedric heads back to his cavalry contingent, to continue harassing the aberration army. Essirise and Karaglen, partly to aid Cedric’s efforts and in part to gain more information about the enemy forces, leave with him as well. Trillia, at Nameless’ suggestion, _teleport_s back to Sharn to await the Angels’ return to the city.

Once the others have gone, Jaela proceeds to cast a _commune_. Though she cannot gain information about Mual-Tar itself, there are other issues about which the Angels seek information. One by one, the Keeper of the Flame asks the questions which the spell allows and pronounces the answer aloud, so that the Angels can suggest new questions:

Q: Do the recently revived soul bound have special properties?
A: Probably

Q: Will Korm, Gareth, Six and Nameless be immune from the magic canceling effect of Mual-Tar?
A: No

Q: Does Cyäegha have information about the Chaos Serpent? 
A: Likely

Q: Would Cyäegha share information about the Chaos Serpent? 
A: Unknown

Q: Can Cyäegha tell us how to kill the Chaos Serpent? 
A: It cannot be slain, only banished

Q: Will it be able to come back in fifty years if banished? 
A: Depends on the method used

Q: Do the Guardian Angels themselves possess the power to banish it? 
A: Not without aid

Q: Do we need the aid of the dragons? 
A: That would be one option

Q: Do we need the aid of the Gatekeepers? 
A: No

Q: Do we need the aid of the hags? 
A: No

Q: Do we need the aid of the Silver Flame? 
A: That would be one option

Q: Would casting _banishment_ on those whose souls are bound to the snake affect it? 
A: No 

Q: Will enough physical damage banish it? 
A: Yes

Q: Is the most dangerous entity in the army besides the snake a mind-flayer? 
A: Yes

Q: Is that mind flayer an arcane caster? 
A: Yes

Q: Is that mind flayer a more powerful caster than Nameless? 
A: No

Q: Is the mind flayer generally found more than 500 ft from the snake? 
A: Usually

Q: Does the mind flayer have a distinctive indication of which one it is? 
A: Yes

Jaela’s gaze refocuses on those around her as the spell ends, and a look of surprise crosses her face, followed by a more somber expression. Gravely, she say, “The Silver Flame just spoke to me even though I completed the spell, which it rarely does. It blessed me and said that it is not certain about the future. But … these are likely my … last days as the Keeper.” 

There is an awkward silence for a few moments, until Gareth says, “I hope that is not the case, Keeper. I swear that I – we – shall do the utmost to ensure that is not the case.” Jaela bows her head in appreciation as the other Angels also murmur their agreement, but her expression does not become any the more cheerful.

“Thank you for the information you gained for us, Jaela,” Nameless says. “Now I shall contact Cyäegha. Its knowledge is endless and if anything knows useful information about the worm, it does.”

A short while later, Nameless completes his spell, transporting his consciousness into Xoriat. Bolstered by a _miracle_ from Jaela, he almost instantly makes contact with Cyäegha. As during his more recent uses of the spell, he finds himself seemingly present in the very cavern that is occupied by the All-Seeing Eye. Cyäegha instantly notes his presence and makes mental contact, causing Nameless the beginnings of a headache but also allowing him to ask his questions of it.

Nameless begins with the query, “What is the best way to harm the worm?” The response is instant. *“Incredibly powerful weapons made of what you call byeshk.”**

He then asks, “Is there some way to negate the effect of the magic-affecting aura?” The response this time has a tinge of what the alienist considers as akin to humor for the Great Old One – *“Be far away.”*

Nameless’ next question is “Once we have banished the worm, how do we prevent it from returning for the maximum period?” Cyäegha responds, *“Use powerful binding energy, preferably what you call divine.”* Then, with a surge of amusement, it adds, *“And block off Xoriat.”*

The alienist then asks, though fairly certain what the answer is, “What does the snake want with Flamekeep?” The answer confirms his supposition. *“Your little Flame.”*

Attempting to learn more specifics, Nameless then queries, “Why does the snake want the Silver Flame?” The response this time is heavily tinged with disdain. *“The souls that make up the Flame have bound many things from what, for you, is time immemorial. Mual-Tar seeks to unbind the seals that bind the daelkyr and tie itself to your world forever.”*

The next question is “What are the effects of our connection to the snake?” This time, there is actually a pause, followed by a swift increase in the pounding in his head, and Nameless gets the definite impression that Cyäegha just studied him intently. *“Not that much right now, but it will increase with time. As its power increases, so will yours.”* Another pause. *“Probably increase. You,”* and there is again a sense of amusement, *“Are unusual. Tasty.”*

Switching to a different subject, Nameless asks, “How can we best use the powers of the Mournland to seal off Xoriat?” The reply this time has a touch of impatience. *“The souls that linger there must be passed through a powerfully charged enough receptacle linked to the seals.”* 

Realizing that he might be overstaying his welcome, the alienist quickly shifts to the next issue. “What is the best way to persuade the dragons to help us seal off Xoriat?” The response is heavily impatient, almost snappish in its mental tone. *“I do not know what little lizards think. Make Xoriat attack their land.”*

Before Nameless can think of another question, the link is instantly severed, and he finds himself back in Jaela’s sanctum, now with a thoroughly pounding head. 

The alienist quickly explains what he asked and the answers he obtained. After he explains, Six says, “That helps somewhat, but some of it’s as cryptic as usual. What do we do next?”

“We have a number of things to do,” Nameless replies. “Go to Sharn and get supplies and some allies. I’d also like to go to Droaam and talk to the hags about aid. If nothing else, it’s the best source for byeshk in Khorvaire. We need to visit Thronehold soon too and…”

“…tell them we need to borrow some of the place?” chuckles Korm.

“Precisely,” says the alienist, not cracking a smile.

“I would actually like to go to Stormhome,” says Six.

“Huh?” Gareth looks at him curiously. “Why?”

“Because the description of the army and the snake makes me think we need air support. I’d like to talk to House Lyrandar about getting some airships.”

“Oooh!” Luna claps in excitement. “Airships! I wanna go too!

Korm chuckles, rolling his eyes, and says, “Why am I not surprised? Anyway, you’re going to need Nameless, Luna or me to get you there, Six, so you might as well take her.”

The warforged turns his expressionless metal face to Luna and says, “All right, but you cannot _flame strike_ anyone who disagrees with you. Or doesn’t give us a fleet of airships instantly.”

Luna pouts, but nods simultaneously. “Sure. Whatever.”

Six turns and says, addressing nobody specific, his tones even less inflected than usual, “My sense of confidence is renewed.”

As Korm dissolves into helpless laughter, Gareth says, “I guess the rest of us are going to Sharn and Droaam?” 

Nameless says, “I suggest we split up too. I recommend that Korm and you go to Droaam, while I go to Sharn.”

“You sure?” Gareth queries, frowning slightly, “I’d like to meet Lalia. Maybe Korm can handle Droaam on his own and I can come to Sharn with you?”

“We need someone diplomatic going to Droaam. Korm isn’t much good at that, just like Luna, which is why Six and she will go together.” Ignoring the Gatekeeper’s indignant complaint at the comment, Nameless continues, “And Sora Katra seems … fond of you. Splitting up will be most efficient. We can do personal visits later.”

“Easy for you,” Gareth grumbles, “Since you have no personal visits to make! But – fine, we’ll do what you say.” The paladin then turns to Jaela and asks, “Keeper, if I may request more of your aid before we leave, could I obtain a scroll or two of _sending_? I need to contact my family. And,” he adds, looking momentarily concerned, “Lalia.” _I wonder what she’s going to say!_

“And the hags,” Nameless adds. “I suggest you avoid arriving without warning. Remember the last – and only – time we did that?”

“I can cast the spells for you,” says Jaela. “I have been keeping a number of them prepared so I can communicate regularly with Cedric. I can do so right now.”

At Gareth’s request, Jaela first contacts his mother, delivering a message saying, _“This is Gareth. I have returned. Am in Flamekeep. Is everything fine with you? Am busy with the war but shall see you when possible.”_ 

The reply, as relayed by Jaela, is, _“We thought you were dead! Grandmother and I both safe. Still in Karrlakton. Come when you can, but take care of yourself. Flame protect you!”_

“That is very reassuring,” says Gareth, before turning to Nameless. “Do you think we will be able to visit Karrnath before the battle?”

“I doubt it,” the alienist rasps, adding dispassionately, “But if we win, hopefully we should have more time.” _Though I doubt that too._

Gareth nods, though not looking particularly pleased, before turning back to Jaela. The Keeper then casts another spell, this one contacting Lalia and repeating the message he sent his mother, albeit with the addition of an expression of love. The response is much shorter: _“Good that you’re alive. Sharn was attacked. Tasra is dead. Stop by when it’s convenient.”_

“Yup,” Luna says definitively, nodding her head. “You’re gonna dieeeeee!”

Despite the circumstances, even Jaela laughs at that, while Gareth just sighs. Then Jaela casts the third and last spell, this once contacting Sora Teraza: _“The Angels have returned. Korm and Gareth wish to meet you to discuss aid against the aberrations. Can they come now? Or later?” _

The blind hag responds, _“I know of their return. And of your predicament. They may come to us now. We shall be awaiting them.”_ 

“Thank you,” Gareth says, inclining his head to the Keeper, before turning to the other Angels. “Shall we go?”

“Yes,” says Nameless. Looking at the Keeper, he adds, “We shall all return here tomorrow morning. Hopefully with some good news.”

Jaela nods and responds, “I do not know what will come, but this much is true, I am more hopeful now than I have been since your deaths. May the Flame watch over you all.”

With that, one by one, the Angels depart. 



* In mechanical terms, that means epic byeshk weapons.


----------



## Anton85

Great Googily Moogily, batman!


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## Rackhir

Anton85 said:


> Great Googily Moogily, batman!




SHHHH!!! Do you know what would happen if Luna ever laid eyes on all the toys Bruce Wayne has and the furnishings in Wayne Manor?

Welcome to the SH btw.


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## Rackhir

Well Shil is almost done grading papers, so we may have a new post from him in the next couple of weeks.

I think we are down to less than five sessions till the end of the campaign (I'd guess 3). I think we are roughly 5 posts or so, behind in the SH.
*
So The End Is Nigh!*


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## shilsen

Rackhir said:


> Well Shil is almost done grading papers, so we may have a new post from him in the next couple of weeks.
> 
> I think we are down to less than five sessions till the end of the campaign (I'd guess 3). I think we are roughly 5 posts or so, behind in the SH.
> *
> So The End Is Nigh!*



What he said. We just played the 100th session of the game last night, where lots of ass was kicked and much mayhem ensued. It looks very likely that we'll be wrapping things up in one more session, which'll likely happen in two weeks time. That's also about the time I'll be done with my end of semester work, so I'll get back to posting here.


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## carborundum

Can't wait!
More Angels, and Jollydoc is doing another SH soon too. The summer is looking good


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Can't wait!
> More Angels, and Jollydoc is doing another SH soon too. The summer is looking good



Speaking of more SH stuff, after we're done with the current campaign, I'm planning to run Paizo's Kingmaker AP, but set it in Eberron, picking up a year or two after the events of the Guardian Angels' campaign. I'm not sure I'll actually do another SH for it, but it's a distinct possibility.


----------



## shilsen

The next day, the Angels reconvene at Flamekeep to discuss the results of their individual trips with each other and with Jaela. To the utter lack of surprise of all, Six has a fair amount to share about Luna’s activities at Stormhome, where the two of them had gone to request aid of House Lyrandar.

“I may have misheard that,” Korm asks, attempting to—and failing at—hiding his merriment. “_What_ did Luna tell the patriarch of House Lyrandar?”

Six looks down at the roll of parchment in his hand and replies, “After I had explained the situation to Esravash d’Lyrandar and been told that she was hesitant to provide us with airships, Luna said, ‘Don’t you want to participate in this? It’s your civic duty!’ I believe,” he continues, even his mechanically uninflected tones sounding a little pained, “She also said, ‘This is no time to be a fuss-budget!’ That’s when I began to note what was said, in case someone tried to kill us for it later.”

As Korm begins to shake with suppressed laughter, Luna growls, half-laughing herself, “What? We got the airships, didn’t we?”

“Yes,” continues Six, “I’m still slightly amazed that we weren’t attacked right there*. Esravash was quite … patient. She said that even though she would not compel any members of her fleet to aid us, she would speak to them on our behalf, and give them permission to aid us if they so wished. Which she did, and quite eloquently, I think.”

“Hey!” Luna interrupts, “I helped!”

“Yes,” Six continues calmly, “Luna said,” he consults the parchment again, “‘Do you want us to do a demonstration? Maybe a diorama where I can blow things up?’ I wonder why,” he says dryly, “They refused. Especially when she turned into a bear and told them, ‘Only YOU can prevent daelkyr!’”   

Gareth pauses to help Korm, who has fallen off his seat at this point, off the floor and says, hiding a grin himself, “But you did get two airships?”

“Yes,” says Six, consulting the document again. “_Falcon_ and _Blackjack_. The captains said they would reach Flamekeep tomorrow. That’s the fastest time they could make.”

“I’m not complaining,” says Gareth. “I’m sure they will come in very handy.”

“I hope so,” says Six. “I made a few plans, but that depends on what help we’re getting from Sharn – and Droaam.”

“Yes,” rasps Nameless, who has been listening silently thus far. “What happened in Droaam?”

“We met Sora Katra and Sora Teraza,” Korm replies, “And Teraza and I talked about what help they can give us, while Katra and Gareth made kissy-face.”

“What?!” Gareth turns pink, partly in embarrassment and partly as he belatedly realizes that Korm is pulling his leg. He hurriedly continues, “_Anyway_, after we spoke, Sora Katra agreed to send us six of Sora Maenya’s elite troll guard, especially since her sister wasn’t there to argue with. She said they’re powerful and vicious fighters, and should come in handy. They’re in the other room.”

“I remember seeing some of those with Sora Maenya,” Nameless comments, musing aloud, “They might be especially useful if—or when—we engage Mual-Tar, due to its ability to disrupt or negate magic.”

“That’s what we figured,” Korm says. “Some of us aren’t at our best,” he chuckles grimly, “When we have no magic available.”

“Correct. But, for when magic _is_ available, I have obtained some additional aid from Sharn,” the alienist says. “While the adventuring companies were … recalcitrant, the arcane guilds were much more amenable. I brought six of their mages with me, well-equipped with scrolls and wands when their meager list of daily spells runs out. Trillia offered to come along as well, but—as one of the few competent arcanists in Sharn now—I thought that she should remain there.”  

The alienist then adds, “While I was there, I also contacted Prine in Argonnessen. His skills are not as dependent on magic as most of ours, and he agreed to join us. I believe he will arrive early tomorrow. And,” he turns to Gareth, “He will be bringing the dragonscale armor you commissioned.”

The paladin beams broadly at the news. “Excellent! I had been wondering about that.” 

“Of course you were,” chuckles Korm, “It’s very important that we all look really pretty when that Worm eats us!”

Once the others finish laughing, Jaela asks the Angels, “What are you planning to do next? We do not have much time before the aberration army arrives. I spoke to Cedric earlier today and he estimates they will be close enough to attack early the day after tomorrow.”

“I think,” Nameless says, “We need to go to Thronehold now. Setting up what we hope to do will take time.” He looks around at the other Angels. “Are you ready?”

* * *
A little later…

Somewhere in his mind, Warden Commander Frey knows that he strikes a comical figure, eyes bulging and jaw hanging open, but right now all he can focus on is what he’s just been told. “You … you … what?!”

“We already told you,” grumbles the giant—and apparently both intelligent and speaking—bear that squats on the lawn before him, in a strangely tinny voice. “We need to borrow a piece of Thronehold, drop it in the bay, create a giant tidal wave and destroy the aberration army attacking Flamekeep. And then we can focus on fighting the stupid giant snake and maybe the daelkyr lord called Anta…, um, Antr….” She glances in apparent irritation at the figures around her. “What in Dolurrh is its name?”

“Antaratma,” rasps the slender, overly pale human standing beside her, leaning on a staff. Though he seems an otherwise unremarkable young man, there is something unnerving about his gaze. And the way his left arm flexes, in a strangely boneless manner.

Frey pulls his gaze away from the man’s appendage as the big orc standing on the other side of the bear chuckles and shakes his head. He is the biggest orc that the Warden Commander has ever seen, arms bulging with giant muscles, which—like the broad chest revealed by his loose robe—are crisscrossed by a network of tiny scars. “I can never remember or say that properly, Nameless. We need a better name. Ant, anta … I have it! Auntie!”

As the orc laughs, the warforged standing at the rear of the group also emits a dry chuckle, “I like that name. Let’s use it.” Despite the humor, it continues watching Frey and his Wardens intently, metal fingers resting on a coiled spiked chain at its hip, what look like little wisps of smoke seeping—and fading away—constantly from his mechanical form.

The most seemingly normal of the five, a man in shining plate-mail armor heavily decorated with the insignia of the Silver Flame, rolls his eyes and steps forward, saying politely yet firmly, “Warden Commander, I apologize for springing this situation on you. Unfortunately, the very future of Khorvaire may hinge on this battle, and using a part of Thronehold is our best chance of success. We are the Guardian Angels of Sharn, known personally to the monarchs of the Five Nations, many of whom have personal debts of gratitude to us. You will not, I promise you, face any problems by giving in to our request. Will you stand aside?”

As he finishes, Frey licks his lips, preparing to respond but still uncertain exactly what he can or should say. Then the staff-wielding human steps forward, extending a letter, “Here. The Keeper of the Flame, Jaela Daran,” he says harshly, “Provided this document asking you to cooperate with us.”

“Yeah,” says the bear behind him, before turning to the warforged. “Hey, Six – show him your little diorama of the giant snake! That’ll show him how big a deal this is!”

Unable to help himself, Frey snaps, “You are all _insane_!”

The thin human frowns and replies, “Yes, but that’s hardly the point. We need to do this and we’re wasting time! And we’re only taking the most useless part of Thronehold. So please stand aside.”

“Be nice, Nameless,” growls the bear, before looking down at Frey. “Are you worried about your house, mister Warden? Tell us where it is and we can relocate it. Really!”

The man in Silver Flame armor frowns and attempts to shush his companions and explain the situation again, ignoring the guffaws of the orc. Frey, feeling the beginnings of a pounding headache, finally raises a hand and says, “Please – listen to me! I cannot simply accept your request. My superiors would never have it, and we—the Throne Wardens—are sworn to defend Thronehold till Galifar is reunited. But,” he continues hurriedly and loudly, before he can be interrupted, “I know of your reputation and will not uselessly sacrifice my people.” Out of the corners of his eyes, Frey glimpses relieved expressions on the faces of the dozen Throne Wardens standing in a loose semi-circle behind him, as he continues, “So, I shall only do this under duress. I shall oppose you alone and if you can best me i….”

The thin human interrupts with a curt, “Luna – sit on him!”

The last thing Frey sees, as he hurriedly begins to draw his sword, is a huge ursine grin spread over the face of the giant bear … before it leaps.

* * *
That night…

“So,” Korm says, as the group is about to settle down to sleep in the chambers provided them in Flamekeep, “Tomorrow we continue excavating that part of Thronehold and set it up to drop at a moment’s notice? And the day after that, we fight. Starting out with me at Thronehold to drop part of the island and Luna flying over the bay to help guide the tidal wave?”

“Yes,” says Nameless, noting the Gatekeeper’s frown. “Is that a problem? It’s as simple as I could make a very complicated process.”

Korm grunts, “I understand the process just fine. I just don’t want to miss the start of the battle.”

“I see,” the alienist responds, in a tone which implies that he doesn’t. “You need not worry. It is virtually certain that the battle will be well under way when you join us, which you can easily do using a _master earth_ once you are done at Thronehold.”

“Yes,” says Gareth, with an expectant grin, “I think I might be a little lonely on the front lines without you. Six is going to be up in the airships, right?”

“Correct,” says the warforged. “We will need someone watching the battle from up high, both to let you know what’s going on and to bring aid when and where you need it.”

“I do think that is a good idea,” says Nameless. “Even though we will be separated at the start of battle, it is necessary and will raise our chances of success. And when Luna….” He frowns, looking around the room, before asking, slowly and carefully, “_Where_ is Luna?”

At that moment, in the depths of Thronehold…

The elite warforged guards standing outside the chamber of the actual Silver Flame, look helplessly at each other, and then back at the giant bear sitting on its haunches and filling the entire corridor before them. One of the guardians takes a step forward and says carefully, “I am deeply sorry. But we cannot let you go beyond this point.” He hesitates and adds, “Nobody can enter the sanctum without the Keeper. You should not be here without her.”

“But why?” says the bear in a tone which can be best described as intensely whiny. “Jaela brought me here earlier, remember? I’m one of the good guys! Don’t worry – I won’t extinguish it or something.”

Since they are physically unable to blink and wince, none of the warforged do so, but it takes a few seconds before the same one says, “Thank you … for the reassurance. But we cannot let you pass. I apologize.”

Luna sighs theatrically and says, “Fine! But can’t you just open the door for me? I need to communicate with it. Please!”

“Comm…unicate with the Flame?”

“Yeah! Pleeeeeeeaaase!”

The warforged again exchange glances and then one says, “That … is acceptable.” Two of the warforged step over and push on the giant doors behind them, which swing smoothly open. Revealed in the space beyond them is a huge room, its walls decorated with intricate carvings, but its floor completely bare. The only thing within it is a stone ring, a foot high and approximately fifteen feet in diameter. From within the ring, a pillar of silver flame reaches up to the ceiling of the chamber.

Luna grins broadly as she sees the Silver Flame and says loudly, “Hello! Can you hear me now?”

Unsurprisingly, there is no reply from the Flame, nor do the warforged—who are watching her curiously—break the silence that follows the question. After a few seconds pass, Luna nods and says, “Okay, so you don’t speak. Let me, hmm, think at you instead!”

The giant bear wrinkles its muzzle in concentration as Luna attempts to telepathically communicate with the Flame. Again, she feels no response or sense of connection, but continues anyway. Luna covers everything that has been going on and, finally, ends by thinking, “It is incumbent upon you to help. We need anything that we can get! Okay?”

Luna waits a few more moments and then, unabashed by the lack of response, nods decisively and says aloud, “Well, just so you know!” She grins at the warforged and adds, “Thanks! I appreciate it.” Then she turns and lumbers away, pausing only to scratch her back by rubbing herself vigorously against one of the sides of the corridor.

* * * * * * * * * *
The next day, as some of the Angels prepare to leave Flamekeep again and head to Thronehold to continue making preparations there, Cedric returns from the field, _teleport_ed in by Essirise. The dragon, again in her elven form, has a fairly perturbed expression, and while Cedric has his habitual demeanor, some of the Angels realize that he is very worried.

Essirise quickly explains why. “We lost Karaglen!”

“The other dragon?” asks Korm, pausing from pouring another layer of orcish spices on his breakfast, “What happened?”

“Mual-Tar!” Essirise replies, dropping into a chair and putting a hand to her head. “We were helping Cedric’s forces harry the aberration forces as planned and try to push them towards the river. Karaglen and I were in our natural forms, flying over part of the army and using our breath weapons. Mual-Tar was towards the head of the army a long distance away … or that’s what we thought! Only….” She pauses and then continues. “Only it suddenly appeared, right out of the ground beneath us. It just reached up, grabbed Karaglen and ripped him to shreds in seconds – and _ate_ him!”

“How far up were you?” asks Six.

Essirise stares at the warforged for a moment and then says, “Karaglen was about forty feet off the ground and I was ten feet higher – so we could get the maximum area with our breath. If I was lower than him….” She says nothing more, repressing a small shudder.

Nameless turns to Luna. “Did you know the snake could do that?”

The shifter shakes her head decisively. “It’s three hundred feet long and can get half its body off the ground, so I knew it can reach pretty high, but not that it can burrow. Especially not that fast!”

Gareth frowns. “That makes things more complicated. For you too, Cedric.”

The other paladin pulls a wry face. “I’ve thought about that, but we’re generally staying further from the army than Essirise and poor Karaglen were. Especially now.” He sighs and then adds, “On the brighter side, we’ve been doing fairly well at both staying at a distance and slowing down the aberrations with our archers and hit-and-run attacks. And slowly pushing them east, as you want. I’m guessing you have till tomorrow morning before they get here.”

“Good,” says Nameless. “We can use the time.”

“Yes,” says Six, “But there are new things to consider.” He begins to count off on his metal fingers. “The snake can tunnel, it is coming after the Flame, and it has a way of detecting things in the distance while underground – since it could detect the dragons while burrowing. Our plans assumed the snake needs to be above ground to travel. What’s to prevent it from popping up on Nameless and Gareth where they’ll be on the ground, and then burrowing to the Silver Flame and … doing whatever it wants to.”

“There are going to be a lot of people out there,” says Gareth. “I doubt it can pick out Nameless and me.”

“Really?” Six’s tone is flat and dismissive. “The snake detected flying dragons while it was underground. If that had anything to do with the dragons’ magic or a connection to Xoriat—remember, Karaglen was an alienist—then Nameless would be like a beacon. And if it can detect the Silver Flame, then you probably will be too. All of us will.”

Nameless nods. “Six has a point.”

Six nods mechanically in response and then turns to Gareth and Jaela, who is also present. “Is there a beginning point to the Flame? If so, that is where our fight will probably occur.”

Jaela says, “It does not extend beyond the chamber of the Flame. The chamber—and the Cathedral—was built around the spot where it appeared.”

“Should we all wait there then?” Six asks his companions.

After a few moments of thought, Nameless shakes his head. “We cannot afford to. The defenders will never last without us there. And if necessary, I can _teleport_ us to the chamber.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” says Jaela, “But if it does, travel to the corridor outside the chamber, since it is warded against teleportation and similar magic.”

“Very well.” 

After a little more discussion, the members of the gathered group disperse and head to their various tasks.

* * *
Some of the Angels spend the rest of the day working at Thronehold, preparing a chunk of the island so that it can be dropped into the bay with a well-placed _earthquake_ spell. Luna and Korm take forms which allow them to tunnel into the earth and weaken the bedrock, with help from summoned elementals and precisely placed _disintegrate_ spells from Nameless. An _enlarge_d Gareth strides back and forth, wielding the titanic maul the Angels obtained in their earlier adventures, smashing large rocks with a single blow. 

Later, the four of them travel out into the bay, first flying over it and then descending into its waters in various ways, to study and decide what will be the best route for the tidal wave to take. Finally, they visit the low cliffs and the plain outside Flamekeep to make final decisions about how to best achieve their idiosyncratic objective. 

Meanwhile, back in Flamekeep, Six spends his time making battle plans with Knight Commander Malik Otherro, who is leading the defense of the city. They visit the defensive positions and fortifications, especially the miles of wall on the far side of the eastern bridge, where they hope to hold the attackers. 

Once this is done, Otherro introduces the warforged to those commanding the special units that he has available – the Argent Guard, an elite force of a little over two hundred warriors and paladins; two dozen wingwyrds, the Flame-touched gargoyles which guard the Cathedral; and the Silver Pyromancers, twenty-five particularly skilled arcanists and clerics. 

*…*

Late in the evening, the Angels meet again at the Cathedral and share notes about their progress. Prine, who has just arrived from Argonnessen, joins them, much to the pleasure of Gareth, since he brought the dragonskin armor that the paladin had commissioned.

“What do you guys think of our chances?” asks Prine, as he joins them for a meal.

Six shrugs mechanically. “We are prepared. I do not know if it will be enough.”

“Frankly,” Korm says, grinning hugely, “I think we’re all gonna die!”

Prine smiles back. “At least you’re confident!”

“I am,” says Gareth with a frown, “But not the way Korm is being. I have no intention of dying.”

“Me neither,” snorts Luna. “And you idiots better not die! I gave up all those pretty gems to bring you back!”

“Noted,” rasps Nameless, with a thin smile. “Gargantuan magic-eating snakes do not worry me—much—but I would never, ever, risk making you waste shiny things.”

As the banter continues, Six interrupts, “Come and look.” 

The warforged, with neither need nor ability to eat and drink, has been standing at a window, looking out over Flamekeep. As the others move to join him, they see the city spread below them, extending outwards from the rocky mount atop which the Cathedral of the Flame stands. Despite the gathering gloom as dusk turns into night, there are much fewer lights than would normally be the case before Flamekeep was evacuated, most of them clustered around the Cathedral and the huge bridge leading over the dark waters surrounding the city. A thick band of lights is visible in a mile-long stretch around the terminus of the bridge, where the defenders work to strengthen the fortifications where the primary defense will occur.

Beyond the fortifications there is primarily darkness. Until, far away, perhaps a dozen miles across the plains of Thrane, the watchers’ eyes are drawn to another thick band of light. It is muted and indistinct, but the Guardian Angels know that it is a combination of hundreds, if not thousands, of torches and the flames of burning farms and villages. 

“They are here.”


* Luna rolling a timely natural 20 on her Diplomacy check helped a lot.


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:


> Speaking of more SH stuff, after we're done with the current campaign, I'm planning to run Paizo's Kingmaker AP, but set it in Eberron, picking up a year or two after the events of the Guardian Angels' campaign. I'm not sure I'll actually do another SH for it, but it's a distinct possibility.




Sounds like we need a campaign petition for this.


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## Furby076

> Then she turns and lumbers away, pausing only to scratch her back by rubbing herself vigorously against one of the sides of the corridor.




That made me spit my soda. It was funny.


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:


> That made me spit my soda. It was funny.



And I didn't even say what she left behind around the corner! She should never have eaten those beans 

* * * * * * * * * *
Through the night, while the other Guardian Angels sleep, Six watches as the forces of Xoriat advance towards Flamekeep. Not that he can actually see the aberration army itself in the darkness, but he sees the streams of fire that mark their advance, and the flames of every hamlet and cottage which they leave burning in their wake.

By the time the other Angels arise early, the opposing force is now visible in the steadily increasing light of the spring dawn. Only a few miles from the city, the aberration hordes stretch across miles themselves, slowly moving together into a comparatively more compact formation as they prepare for the actual assault.

The Angels study the enemy and discuss their plans over a hurried breakfast, only indulging in it because it consists of a _heroes’ feast_ provided by Jaela. 

“So you two are leaving as soon as you’re done, right?” asks Gareth.

“Yes,” nods Korm. “But we’ll be back as soon as we have the wave on the way.”

“Well, you will,” grumbles Luna. “I have to guide the stupid thing till it hits!” She glares out of the window and then back at her friends, expression not changing. “You better not end the battle without me! And don’t die … again!”

“I shall make a note of that,” rasps Nameless dryly. “I expect we shall have enough enemies to last until your return.” The alienist looks out the window, calculating swiftly, and adds, “If their current movement and re-formation is an accurate guide, then they will be well-placed for the wave. After that … there is not enough data for a reasonable hypothesis.” 

Prine, who is present, studies Nameless and chuckles. “I love when you do that! Anyway, I don’t know about all that, so just put me where I’ll be most useful. On the front lines of the defense, I guess?”

“Yes,” Six replies. “You, Nameless and Gareth will be on the fortifications. And Korm and Luna will join you when each of them arrives. I shall be there,” he says, pointing out of the window and up, where an airship hangs motionless above the Cathedral. Another airship floats above the spires of the royal palace nearby. “I shall be able to watch the battlefield and keep you all informed about the enemy movements. And I’ll have the trolls with me, so we can quickly go wherever we’re needed.”

“Sounds good,” says Gareth, “Though I wouldn’t have minded having those trolls with us. What about Jaela? She will be in the Cathedral, right?”

“Yes,” says the Keeper, walking in at this point, followed by her dragonhound Skaravojen, “I shall be in my chambers, from which I can watch the battle. I shall be as safe as possible there, especially with Samarien present.” She looks up at the figure following behind her hound, a green-skinned and bald humanoid who stands nearly ten-feet tall. The planetar nods seriously down at her diminutive charge and then says, addressing Nameless, who had summoned her the previous night, “I shall guard Jaela with my life. And if she is in real danger, I have contingencies in place to transport her to a safe place.”

“Thank you,” rasps Nameless. “That is reassuring. You seem significantly more … intelligent than the last planetar we met.”

Samarien says nothing in response, settling for a shrug of her muscular shoulders, as she takes up a position near Jaela. The Keeper, taking a seat, says, “I have spoken with Cedric. His forces have pulled back to the west, as planned, and will be ready to move in when you command. He should be here in seconds, so that you….”

As she speaks, Cedric appears in the corridor beyond the room, accompanied by the silver dragon Essirise in elven form. The paladin looks well-rested and grins happily as he spots those in the chamber. “I see everyone’s ready,” he says as he walks in, looking around before asking cheerfully, “So – everyone ready to help a lot of aberrations die gloriously for their cause?”

Korm chuckles, “You seem in a good mood!”

“Eh!” Cedric pulls up a chair. “If I’m going to get killed today, I can’t see how being depressed helps. And you guys have breakfast ready! Considering what we’ve been eating in the field, how can I complain?”

Some of the others in the room laugh and the serious atmosphere lightens a bit, perhaps just as Cedric had intended. The paladin settles down with the Angels and digs into the _heroes’ feast_, as does Essirise, while discussing their battle plans and the various roles which each of them will play.

Near the end of the meal, Gareth notices that Jaela is comparatively silent and seems depressed, though she is hiding it well. He asks quietly, “Is anything wrong, Keeper? Besides the general situation, I mean.”

Jaela begins to shake her head, but then stops and sighs. “I’m just thinking about what the Flame told me when I communed with it earlier this morning.” As everyone pauses in their individual conversations to listen, Jaela smiles wanly. “It said that this battle will be key to the eventual defeat of the daelkyr invasion. And – though even the Flame cannot be certain of the future – that it is very likely these are my last days as the Keeper.”

There is utter silence at these words, nobody really having anything reassuring to say, but Jaela looks around and smiles again, this time with a little more confidence. “Anyway, we have things to do now. I see you are all done with the meal and we need to get ready. Nameless, would you link us as we planned?”

“Yes,” says the alienist, rising to his feet. He casts a _telepathic bond_, linking Jaela, Cedric, Six, Korm and Luna to himself. 

“Thank you,” says Jaela, before she raises her hands in benediction. It is an odd picture, as an eleven-year old girl addresses a shapechanged dragon, an angel, and the most powerful warriors of Khorvaire, “With the power invested in me by the Silver Flame, I bless you….”

* * *
A little over an hour later…

Nameless, Gareth and Prine stand on the battlements that stretch for a mile around the far end of the eastern bridge from Flamekeep, having placed themselves close to the central gate of the defensive wall. Accompanying them, spread over the mile-long fortifications, are over three thousand of the city’s defenders. Priests of the Silver Flame move back and forth, blessing the troops and exhorting them to do their utmost for Thrane, sometimes adding magical aid to their words. Hundreds of archers, wielding the famed longbows of Thrane, look to their arrows. A group of paladins, bearing the insignia of the elite Argent Guard on their gleaming breastplates, kneel in prayer. Above them, the banners of Thrane wave in the spring breeze, bearing an unsheathed sword beneath the flame-wreathed argent arrowhead of the Silver Flame. A single pennant nearby is dramatically different, depicting the three snarling heads of a chimera. Standing silently beneath it are a company of scarred men and women, all veterans of the Last War, warriors of House Deneith fulfilling their contract to defend Flamekeep against any and all who attack it.  

But the invaders, whose army spreads in a gigantic, dark crescent across the plain before the wall, is one that few of those present have faced. Outnumbering the defenders more than five-to-one, the aberration forces consist mostly of dolgrims, led as usual by their dolgaunt supervisors. Runehounds lope through the ranks, while nagas slither back and forth, and small squads of athach shock troops loom over them all, waiting in brutish patience for orders from the mind flayers who command the army. Overhead float hundreds of cloakers and scores of ovoid shapes, marking the presence of gauths and even some beholders. But most impressive of all is the form of Mual-Tar, lazily moving towards the city in the rear of the aberration army, even its allies staying well away from its gigantic coils. 

Seeing the Chaos Serpent for the first time, Gareth stares worriedly for a few moments and then glances at Nameless. “I think Luna didn’t make it sound big enough! No wonder it could eat a dragon. How do we take something like that down?!”

The alienist responds with characteristic calm, though even he is impressed by the creature’s size. “We shall have to … find a way.”

Prine chuckles sardonically. “You better think of a way soon! If I had known this is what we’d be fighting, I might not have come!”

“I think we will have to deal with some other things first,” says Nameless. “They’re on the move.” As the aberration force begins to advance towards the wall, the alienist speaks over his _telepathic bond_ to all those linked to him, _“They’re attacking. Korm – prepare to make the drop. Cedric – hold position till the wave hits and we tell you to come in. Six – let us know if you notice anything strange.”_ As responses in the affirmative come back over the link, Nameless grips his staff and begins to cast a couple of short-term protective spells. Gareth does the same, while Prine swigs a couple of potions. Around them, similar preparations are made, while cries of alarm and various orders ring out. 

The advancing aberrations trot towards the wall and then break into a run. Their line begins to break up as they rush forward, the swifter of the creatures quickly leaving their allies behind. The fragmentation increases as the Thranish archers unleash a volley of arrows, hitting few of the leading attackers but striking many of those in the following ranks. Scores, possibly hundreds, of aberrations go down, but the others continue their charge.

Prine, not having fought aberrations earlier, glances at Nameless. “They seem a little … disorganized. They don’t even have siege weapons.” He glances back at the army and Mual-Tar. “Well, other than _that_!”

“Yes,” rasps Nameless, “But they have a plan, I’m certain.” His gaze flickers back and forth, trying to discern what is coming next. 

As he does so, Six’s mechanical voice rings in his head, magically transported to him from the airship far overhead. _“Look out for the flyers!”_ the warforged says hurriedly, and Nameless loudly shouts the same words to those around him.

Gareth, standing at the ready, looks puzzled. “What flyers? I don’t see any…”

“Precisely!”

Just as Gareth realizes what Nameless means, that the hundreds of flying aberrations which had overshadowed the enemy ranks thus far are suddenly lost to sight, they appear. Arising into view are the cloakers, which had swooped down in unison and flown behind the charging ranks till they were significantly closer to the wall, comparatively protected from arrow fire. Hundreds of them soar forward, flying low to the ground, quickly outpacing the aberrations rushing in on foot. 

“Take the flyers down!” Nameless shouts, unleashing a huge _fireball_ which blasts half a dozen cloakers out of the air, as well as incinerating a number of other aberrations. “The cloakers!” he shouts again, “Focus fire on the cloakers!” Some of the commanders in the area take up the cry, and orders flow along the wall. Archers and some of the Thranish spellcasters switch their aim. The cloakers are much tougher than the dolgrims, but dozens of them fall from the sky.

But the defenders are not the only ones with perceptive leaders. Seconds later, there is a sound that actually rises above the tumult of the battle, composed of thousands of crossbows firing at once. A gigantic volley of bolts hammers at the fortifications. The battlements protect the warriors of Flamekeep, reducing their losses, but the sheer number of dolgrims firing ensures that a number of them do fall. And more importantly, it causes many to have to take shelter behind the fortifications and raised shields, causing the rain of arrows to slacken.

Not that crossbows are the only problem for the defenders. Prine, peering over the wall, suddenly turns to grab Gareth’s arm. “Down!”

The paladin doesn’t bother arguing, dropping down beside him. “What?”

The answer comes not from Prine but in a thunderous roar, as dozens of little beads of magical flame – which the keen-eyed scout from Argonnessen had spotted – reach the wall and explode into _fireball_s. The magical blasts explode above the fortifications and, unlike the crossbow bolts, strike many of those behind them. Screams of fear and pain, many of them cutting off into dying gurgles, erupt all along the wall. Priests and other healers, some of them badly hurt themselves, rush back and forth tending to the wounded.

Nameless, having already warded himself against fire, doesn’t bother dodging, only momentarily closing his eyes as a _fireball_ envelops him. Then he calmly casts another spell, causing a gigantic six-hundred-foot long _wall of fire_, to appear two hundred feet from the wall, just past the front row of aberrations. Not only does it incinerate a large number of the enemy, but it breaks up their advance in this area, as well as blocking line of sight for the spellcasters and the crossbow-users. While the defenders on other parts of the wall continue to absorb the effects of the assault, those around Nameless leap gratefully back up. 

Only to meet the flying assault of the cloakers. As they swoop over the wall, the flying aberrations unleash what seem to only be faint moans. But though the sonic attacks are only barely within the range of human hearing, their effect on the minds and bodies of the defenders is undeniable. Hundreds of the warriors of Thrane are instantly nauseated, falling to the ground as weakness overcomes them. Even more succumb to waves of fear which emanate from the cloakers, dropping their weapons and turning to flee in panic. In seconds, nearly a quarter of the defenders are out of commission. 

_Damn!_ “Spellcasters and archers – take down the cloakers!” shouts Nameless, “Warriors – guard the wall!” While speaking, the alienist transmits over the _telepathic link_ to those far from the battle, _“Korm – they’re fully committed. Do it now! Luna – stay ready for the wave!”_ 

As his allies send affirmative responses back to him, Nameless focuses on taking cloakers out of the air. Those of the defenders who are capable of it do so as well. Though none of them possess the alienist’s ability, the spellcasters who are present unleash a withering assault, especially the Silver Pyromancers, who send coruscating silver flames aloft to blast cloakers apart. 

Some of the flying aberrations respond by rising higher, using other forms of their powerful moans. But, now that they have recovered from the first shock, that only makes it easier for the Thranish archers and casters to target them. Other cloakers drop down into close combat, biting and slashing with their whip-like tails, but that too aids the defenders, many of whom are primarily prepared for melee.

Gareth, grinning fiercely, rushes a cloaker that just sank its fangs into the throat of a nearby soldier. Even before the creature realizes that it is in peril, the Endless Blade flashes down and cuts it into two pieces. Another cloaker, opportunistically dropping down on Gareth’s back suddenly squawks in pain as two holes appear in its center, collapsing at the feet of the hitherto invisible Prine as he appears.

Elsewhere…

Coincidentally, at that very moment, cloaker-like wings extend from Korm’s muscular shoulders as he flaps slowly back and forth above the western edge of Thronehold. Having received Nameless’ command, the Gatekeeper picks his spot, one carefully indicated by markers that the Angels planted the previous day. Then he casts a spell, the most powerful in his repertoire.

As the _earthquake_ takes effect, the earth and rock beneath him tremble and then swiftly break apart, large cracks appearing in a circle a hundred and sixty feet wide. But the cracks do not stop there, as they would normally, but spread rapidly, along the fault lines and weak spots the Angels have painstakingly crafted. The original sound of the spell taking effect only increases, rumbling growing into roaring, as more and more of the surface below Korm collapses.

The Gatekeeper flaps his way higher to rise above the cloud of dust that rises beneath him, watching the effects of his spell with fascination. The rumbling of the tortured earth expands and rises to a thunderous crescendo which must be heard across the island – and then, with a mountainous groan, the entire cliff comes apart and collapses into the bay below, taking many cubic miles of Thronehold with it. 

 There is a gigantic splash as the cliffside hits the water, and, as more and more of the rock and earth descends, concentric waves of increasing size radiate outwards from the island. Just as the Angels had hoped and planned for, the central and largest swells are aimed directly in the direction of Flamekeep, almost indistinguishable on the horizon at the edge of Korm’s vision.

The Gatekeeper lets out a breath of relief and then hurriedly transmits over the link, _“It’s done – the wave’s on the way! It’s all yours, Luna! And I’m on the way, guys!”_

As varied messages fly back to his mind from the others on the link, Korm flaps as swiftly as he can to the edge of Thronehold, now much further from him than it was only seconds ago. As he lands, he waves cheerfully at the awed crowd of people who had gathered some distance away, curious to see exactly what the Guardian Angels were doing. “Tell your grandkids,” the Gatekeeper yells loudly, “Korm … was … HERE!”

Then he casts a spell and disappears instantly, sinking into the earth.

Somewhere between Thronehold and Flamekeep…

A large, bulky (some might even say fat, but never, _ever_ within earshot) albatross has been soaring in wide circles, sometimes rising high and sometimes descending near the waves. Once, only a few minutes earlier, it actually settled down to float on the water, leading to an overly aggressive shark going for the easy meal. Pieces of the shark are now scattered across the surface of the water, while some specks of it splatter the albatross’ feathers, and a particularly succulent piece is held in the bird’s beak as it hovers. 

Then it cocks its head, swallows the piece of shark, and hurriedly flaps its way east. As it beats its way through the air, rushing to meet it is a gigantic wave, miles in length and seemingly increasing in size. The albatross soars forward to meet the wave, beating its wings with frantic speed. Its beak works constantly, emitting not squawks or any other expected avian sounds, but muttered words: “Stupid shark! I shouldn’t have got distracted! But it’s so boring here! And I was hungry! I bet Korm dropped the stupid island too early! Sh*t!”

Then the muttering cuts off as Luna reaches the first lines of the wave and brakes awkwardly in mid-air, turning to face west. While she does so, the multiple swells that make up the giant wave pass beneath her. Though she cannot say for certain, Luna thinks that they have ceased increasing in size and might even be diminishing. “Not while I’m around,” mutters the druid, as she begins to cast a spell.

A moment later, the air begins to thicken and roil before Luna, as multiple puffs of air spring into existence. They swirl back and forth, quickly strengthening from a breeze to a severe wind. And then growing to a gale, to a hurricane – and beyond. In seconds, a raging tornado roars around Luna, extending a full six hundred feet in each direction. The druid hangs for a moment in the eye of the storm, a calm spot some fifty feet across, and then, flaps her wings. In response, the tornado reshapes itself, the winds suddenly changing from a circular spinning motion to a concerted, directed flow. At Luna’s command, a quarter-mile long wall of two hundred mile per hour wind blasts the tidal wave towards Flamekeep at renewed speed.

_“The wave’s still coming, boys!”_ she transmits, _“How are things going?”_

On the fortifications near Flamekeep…

Korm appears out of the stone of the battlements near Nameless, Gareth and Prine, shoving a startled Thranish warrior off his feet. “Whoops! Sorry!” says the Gatekeeper, taking a quick look around, before unleashing an _arc of lightning_, which reduces a line of aberrations before the wall to ashes.

Even though it took less than a minute since Nameless’ message for Korm to join them, the situation has significantly improved for the defenders. The cloaker attack provided more of a temporary setback than inflicting permanent losses, and the Guardian Angels, the Argent Guard and the Deneith battalion held off the assault long enough for the panicked and nauseated defenders to rejoin the battle, leading to the quick decimation of the cloakers. 

Similarly, while the aerial attack did allow the aberration ground forces to reach the wall at many places, they have not yet gained a foothold on it. Defenders cut down ropes with grappling hooks as they are thrown up, and do the same to the heads and hands of those attackers who do manage to clamber up to the top. While the assault is strongest at the large central gates, so is the defense, and the bodies of hundreds of attackers lie around the gates, which have taken some damage, but still hold strong. 

“Looks like things are all right so far,” says Korm. “Right?”

“Yes, we…,” begins Gareth, before the excited voice of the Endless Blade interrupts. “This is f*cking awesome!” shouts the sword. “I haven’t fought in a battle this big in … in … well, ever!”

As Gareth frowns and begins to speak again, Nameless says peremptorily, “Wait!” The alienist raises both hands to his ears, to prevent the sounds of battle distracting him from Six’s words, which he hears in his head. _“Nameless – a division of their army has headed for the broken southern bridge. I can’t be certain, but I think they’re carrying very thick ropes and … I think, floats. They might be trying to create a makeshift bridge to the city. Can you do something?”_

_“Yes!”_ says the alienist, before quickly casting a spell. 

Its effects appear sixty feet away, on the ground behind the protective wall, in the shape of two huge amorphous forms, apparently constructed of flowing water. The elementals bunch their aqueous fists and look around for an enemy, but Nameless quickly calls commands in gurgling tones. The two summoned creatures nod, similarly responding in Aquan, and then turn and swiftly flow away. Reaching the edge of the area, they immediately leap off. An instant later, two loud splashing sounds indicate that they have hit the five hundred foot wide waterway created by the bay flowing around Flamekeep.

“What was that for?” asks Gareth.

Nameless smirks slightly and says, “Some aberrations are trying to go around the back way. I sent them a greeting party.”

The Guardian Angels return to the defense. Though fighting still continues along the wall, the heavy melee combat that followed the cloaker attack has ended. The aberration forces are still pushing forward, but with less energy than earlier, almost as if to keep the defenders busy more than actually seeking to overwhelm them. The same may be said for the magical assault and the crossbow fire from the dolgrims, which mostly keeps those on the battlements wary and inflicts relatively few casualties now.

After a few minutes of this attrition have passed, Korm says, “What are they planning? And why haven’t they brought _that_ in yet?” he asks, indicating Mual-Tar, which has actually paused about a quarter of a mile from the wall and is doing nothing. 

The answer comes swiftly. Nameless is the first to realize it, as his _anticipate teleportation_ spell instantly informs him that four aberrations, one of them large, were about to _teleport_ in some thirty feet from him.

Unfortunately, the alienist’s spell extends only thus far, and as he opens his mouth to yell a warning, half a dozen identical groups of aberrations appear on the battlements among the defenders. Each group includes three mind-flayers, some of them featuring the amputated tentacles with inset dragonshards which indicate that they are spellcasters. But the defenders’ attention is drawn, rather, to the fourth member of each group. They float above the mind-flayers, central eye gaping, while their forests of smaller eyelets gaze in every direction, each of them glowing with magical power which is an instant from being unleashed.

“Sh*t!” says Gareth, as the edge of one’s gaze touches him, feeling all of his magical protections wink out, while the Endless Blade disappears back into his magical hand, which is now reduced to an unmoving metal fist. “Beholders!”


----------



## Furby076

Well written story...lots of action, drama, and comedy...one of the better stories.


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## carborundum

WAAAARRRGGGHHH!!!

It's all kicking off and no mistake! Brilliant stuff, can't wait for the next update!


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## Rackhir

Since we are drawing to the end of this tale, I am curious to hear from some of the lurkers. 

We've got 83 thousand views on this thread and about 3 posters we hear from occasionally. I'm pretty sure that those views aren't just from Shil and I re-reading things. Which means SOMEBODY seems to be reading us.

So Lurkers, tell us what was it you liked about the SH? What were some of your favorite moments, scenes or lines. Who's your favorite Angel? Or is there an NPC you particularly like.

Remember there isn't too many more posts before that Big Red "Complete" tag goes up in the SH header and it starts sinking off into obscurity.


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## Neurotic

All are favorites! They wouldn't be what they are without Nameless provoking Gareth, Luna shenanigans, Six caution, Korm's bravado and even NPCs reaction.

Well done!


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## carborundum

All are favourites! I agree!
Standouts? The phenomenal ass-kickings, Nameless' 'familiar' mental state and tentacle, Luna and all her psychotic Tigger moments, Gareth and his sword, Six's long-suffering equanimity, Korm eating aberrations, the four-armed sahuagin that got me making my own monsters, Sharn and the million plot lines waiting to be picked up, Xagygyrag, all Shil's mutations, the dialogue... 

more when it springs to mind. My real big question - is the whole thing sitting somewhere as doc or pdf?  
Since it's no longer possible to get the whole thread as a text file, I foresee a long summer of copying and pasting before I can send a file to Lulu to get this SH on paper.


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## shilsen

Neurotic said:


> All are favorites! They wouldn't be what they are without Nameless provoking Gareth, Luna shenanigans, Six caution, Korm's bravado and even NPCs reaction.
> 
> Well done!




My perspective is a little skewed, of course, but I do agree that it's the particular mix of all the characters and their interaction with (wrecking of?) the world and NPCs around them which made this campaign so much fun for me. I've been involved with a lot of games, as player and DM, but this one is by far my favorite and most memorable one.



carborundum said:


> All are favourites! I agree!
> Standouts? The phenomenal ass-kickings, Nameless' 'familiar' mental state and tentacle, Luna and all her psychotic Tigger moments, Gareth and his sword, Six's long-suffering equanimity, Korm eating aberrations, the four-armed sahuagin that got me making my own monsters, Sharn and the million plot lines waiting to be picked up, Xagygyrag, all Shil's mutations, the dialogue...




Pfft. I'm not mutated. Just slightly ... um ... aberrant. 



> more when it springs to mind. My real big question - is the whole thing sitting somewhere as doc or pdf?
> Since it's no longer possible to get the whole thread as a text file, I foresee a long summer of copying and pasting before I can send a file to Lulu to get this SH on paper.




I have all the writeups as .doc files, with sessions 1-20 covered in the first one, 21-35 on the next, and batches of 5 sessions on each of the others. So there are currently 14 of them, covering about 5 MB. I'm not even trying to work out how many pages that is 

Would you like me to post them on this thread?

BTW, I should mention that the story hour isn't that close to done yet. I'm currently wrapping up the writeup for session 92, and the last session is number 101. I'm averaging about 2-3 posts per session, so that means there are still about 15-25 writeups to go. We'll be here for a while


----------



## carborundum

LOL, yeah, the world-wrecking is indeed something else. That, and being able to buy a newspaper in Sharn!

I'd love a link to the doc files, and if it's too big to add as an attachment to a post you could always put it on a filesharing site. I have a site I could host it on too, if need be. My email address is foolish.child and that's at gmail.com.

It's wonderful to hear that there are still plenty of pages to print out and read in the train to work ;-)


----------



## carborundum

Forgot to ask, but I may use one for the first time soon...

How do you play your beholders, Shil? The party is approaching 12th level so it is about time they had one. I am torn between rewriting it (change central eye to dispelling and let it shoot eyebeams all day long) and classic, but if I do a classic one, it can not afford to arrive unaccompanied! 

Any and all tips welcome, sire.


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Forgot to ask, but I may use one for the first time soon...
> 
> How do you play your beholders, Shil? The party is approaching 12th level so it is about time they had one. I am torn between rewriting it (change central eye to dispelling and let it shoot eyebeams all day long) and classic, but if I do a classic one, it can not afford to arrive unaccompanied!
> 
> Any and all tips welcome, sire.



My condolences to your players  Email's on the way.


----------



## shilsen

To Gareth’s surprise, the beholder whose gaze had affected him turns away. While its many eyestalks fire a barrage of rays, the creature floats steadily forward, as if with a specific objective. The same is true of the other beholders, each of which replicates the motion. Some of the mind-flayers move too, each of them _fly_ing through the air. But their focus is more obviously on destruction, as they unleash either spells or waves of mental force. Scores of defenders are torn apart, while the luckier ones simply drop their weapons and grab at their heads, stunned by the mind blasts. Others, struck by the beholders’ eye-rays, suffer myriad effects, ranging from simply collapsing in magical sleep to being petrified to being reduced to dust.

_That’s it!_ Nameless shouts across the battlefield, “The gate! They’re after the gate!” An instant later, he casts a _disintegrate_ of his own. Two hundred feet away, an unfortunate beholder roars in agony as the beam strikes, momentarily outlining it in green light, before rendering it to nothing.

“On it!” says Gareth. He extends the Endless Blade, which popped back into existence as the beholder’s anti-magic gaze left him, ahead of him and issues a mental command. With a telepathic shout of glee, the sword responds, driving itself through the air with the paladin behind it. 

Its target, another beholder, quickly realizes the peril as Gareth’s form, garbed in gleaming dragonhide armor and glowing with the light of the Silver Flame, drives at it. The beholder pivots, eyestalks moving before the unwieldy body, and multiple magical beams strike Gareth. The first barely scorches him, his now innate resistance to energy absorbing the attack, and he shrugs the second’s attempt to render him asleep without an effort. Then the third beam hits, limning Gareth in a verdant glow for an instant. Skin  _disintegrate_s, but the paladin is far more resilient than Nameless’ target was, and a second later the glow fades, leaving him only lightly wounded. And right on top of the beholder before its central eye can affect him. 

“For the Flame!” Gareth shouts, driving the Endless Blade deep into the beholder’s side. Silver fire leaps from the sword, incinerating the aberration from the inside, and it thrashes vainly in its death throes. Its central eyes close, the eyestalks droop, and the dead aberration floats limply in mid-air.

A short distance away, Korm—flapping more slowly aloft on his cloaker-wings—blasts two of the beholders with an _arc of lightning_. Neither of the badly wounded creatures falls, but they pause, thrashing in agony. Before they can recover and fly onwards, other defenders target them with spells and weapons, slaying both.

However, there is only so much that the Angels themselves can do, and there are still two beholders left. The other defenders individually cannot compare in power to the Angels, and the withering magical assault of the mind-flayers makes it difficult for them to combine their abilities to best effect.  Both of the remaining beholders take damaging hits, but they float on through the air, swiftly coming within range of the central gate to the fortifications.

Immediately, each beholder fires a _disintegrate_ rays at the huge portal. A desperate member of the Argent Guard near the gate throws himself forward, intercepting one of the beams with his own body. But the gallant sacrifice is in vain. The second ray strikes, instantly dissolving a ten foot cube in the very center of the gates, destroying both the wood and steel of the gates themselves and the central parts of the multiple iron bars which have held it closed against all external assaults thus far. 

The sudden breach reveals a number of huge shapes outside, each wielding giant swords in its three arms, clearly waiting in expectation for the beholders to do their job. They roar and charge forward, shoving their way into the hole. The first of them staggers as multiple spears and arrows strike it, but it totters its way through the gate, propelled partly by sheer stubbornness and partly through the force of others smashing into it from the back. Bleeding profusely and swinging its swords in wild arcs, the athach totters into the first line of defenders, pushing them back even as it slowly collapses from their blows. As it falls, it is trampled under the feet of its allies, who inexorably push their way in, forcing the broken and weakened gates wider apart. In the space of only seconds, nearly a dozen athachs are inside the fortifications, pushing back the defense and creating a space for the other aberrations that follow close behind.

To confirm the danger, Nameless suddenly hears Six’s voice over the _telepathic bond_. From his vantage point high above, on the deck of a Lyrandar airship, Six transmits, _“Nameless – their entire central force is moving in towards the gate. You’ve got to hold them there or be swamped!”_

Mentally sending back a swift affirmative, Nameless shouts again, “Gareth, Korm – get the gates! We’ll take care of the mind-flayers. Just make sure they don’t get through!” The alienist pauses for an instant, as another telepathic message from Six comes in, and then turns to glance at the ocean. A harsh smile curves his lips for an instant, and then he turns his attention back to the battle, casting another spell. The stone around him trembles under the weight of the two creatures, like walking hills crudely carved into very roughly humanoid shapes, which appear before him. Without a word, Nameless points at the mind-flayers in the area and the earth elementals rumble away, raising their huge fists.

Meanwhile, Gareth rushes away without a word. Running as fast as he can, he barrels into the closest athach, those defenders who saw him coming hurriedly opening a path for the paladin. Gareth ignores the huge sword which rings off his armor with a force which would have broken a normal human being in half, and smites the giant aberration with all his might. 

Argent flame shoots from his sword as it slashes through armor and the flesh beyond, utterly disemboweling the athach. Gareth’s target screams and totters drunkenly as he rips the Endless Blade free. “F*ck, yeah!” exults the sword, dripping with blood, “Now _that’s_ what I’m talking about!” Despite the situation, the paladin can’t help chuckling at the sword’s response as he steps backwards from the collapsing athach. But his smile fades as he looks up, into the snarling gazes of two more of the monsters, who step forward, raising six swords above his head.

Then there is movement above the athachs and something plummets through the air above them. Having flapped his way above them, Korm’akhan has chosen a simple way to maximize the defenders’ ability to attack multiple foes. Instead of occupying a position in front of the advancing aberrations, he opts to simply drop right into the center of the athachs. As the Gatekeeper hits the ground, he shouts an orcish war-cry from the Shadow Marches and swings wildly about him, striking simultaneously at four athachs. 

The meteoric blade slices deep into aberration flesh, spraying blood around the area and onto Korm. Though his lone effort, dispersed as it is among multiple enemies, does not bring down any of the athachs, it certainly draws their attention. Roaring with anger and pain, the wounded creatures focus on Korm, bringing down a hail of blows and expecting to crush this puny antagonist in an instant. But, to their befuddlement, the Gatekeeper keeps fighting, deflecting swords as large as his entire body with his smaller blade or letting them deflect off his preternaturally hard skin and magical defenses. But there are too many attackers and blows to block them all, and Korm is soon bleeding from multiple wounds.  

What his suicidal assault does, however, is buy time for the other defenders. The athachs pause in their advance as they try to destroy the interloper. One of the two giants looming over Gareth turns away as its back is laid open by Korm, leaving the paladin facing only one. Leaping within its reach, Gareth slashes at it, and the emboldened defenders follow his lead, bringing it down in instants. Then they engage the other athachs, attempting to halt their advance.

For long minutes, the battle at the gate rages, more fiercely and closely contested than any element of the assault thus far. Not that the situation is peaceful elsewhere on the battlements. Nameless, aided by his elementals, and with Prine leaping back and forth with incredible speed at his side, engages the mind-flayers, helping the defenders take them down one by one. At the same time, aberrations are attempting to clamber to the top all along the wall, and the diminished numbers of the defense makes it much harder to stop them. While no aberration reaches the top—or, rather, survives doing so—within five hundred feet on either side of Nameless, elsewhere on the wall the situation is less secure. Far to the west, in at least two spots, aberrations establish a beachhead on the wall, with more and more climbing up to engage the Thranish warriors trying desperately to push them back.

Slowly, the battle at the gates also worsens for the defense. With the continuing assault, the actual gates now hang broken and demolished, in no shape to be closed even if the attackers could be pushed back out. The athachs—while unable to push forward as they hoped to—are incredibly durable and take a long time to go down, even with Gareth and Korm leading their opposition. Which, in turn, allows other aberrations to mass behind them and advance through the breach, pushing forward through sheer numbers. 

Dolgrims in their hundreds swarm outside, firing crossbows indiscriminately through the gate, hitting allies as much as they do enemies. More dangerous are the runehounds that lope back and forth, breathing streams of acid with unerring accuracy. A few remaining cloakers swoop over the gate, disabling defenders with nausea and fear. Close behind them come a flight of gauths, eye-beams cutting a swathe through the warriors of Flamekeep.

A grey-haired warrior, fighting at Gareth’s side, grabs the paladin’s arm during a rare pause in the fighting. “This location is lost, Sir Gareth,” she says quickly. “If we stay here, everyone will die. Lead the remaining defenders back across the bridge and hold the enemy there. Or break it down, if need be.”

Gareth shakes his head, partly in disagreement and partly to get combined sweat and blood out of his eyes. “We cannot. The aberrations will cut everyone down before we can make it there.”

“No,” says the warrior, “We shall hold them here and buy you time.” She smiles grimly as she indicates the insignia on her helmet, displaying her rank and the snarling chimera-heads of the House she serves – and which Gareth comes from. “For duty and the honor of House Deneith!”

The paladin hesitates for a moment and then nods slowly, knowing that she is right and also that Nameless and Six had discussed this contingency. “Very well,” he says.

The woman smiles again and replies, “It has been an honor!” Then she turns and raises her sword, shouting, “House Deneith! To me! Prepare to form a defensive line!” As many of the defenders begin to move towards her, Gareth now notices that the entire Deneith contingent had followed him towards the gates. Perhaps only half of them remain, all bloodied and battered. Nevertheless, without a word, they move to obey their superior.

Gareth too raises his sword, opening his mouth to call for a retreat. But, as he does so, he hears screams of alarm from defenders ahead of him and on the battlements on either side of the gates. An instant later, half a dozen _fireball_s explode in the area around him, while a dozen more spells rip through the defense. 

With all his sacred and magical resistances, Gareth is relatively unhurt, but the blasts momentarily disorient him. Shaking his head and attempting to see through the huge cloud of dust created by the explosions, the first thing he sees—lying at his feet—is the Deneith commander he was speaking to. Her glassy eyes stare up from a charred face, locked in an expression of surprise.

Ahead of Gareth, a heap of the dead and dying lie before the shattered gate. And through it advance half a dozen mind-flayers, while behind them crawl a dozen nagas, the combined source of the magical assault. The illithid in the lead floats through the air, a dragonshard-topped staff held in one hand, smaller dragonshards gleaming amidst its amputated tentacles. An aura of magical energy gleams around it and waves of fear flow outwards, causing even the dying defenders to moan weakly and attempt vainly to crawl aside.

Alone before it stands Korm. Already more wounded than Gareth was and lacking the paladin’s blessings from the Silver Flame, the Gatekeeper is horribly wounded, staying on his feet through sheer stubbornness as much as due to unnatural vitality. But he still snarls his defiance at the enemy. 

“You cannot enter here,” says Korm, and the mind-flayer general pauses, perhaps in surprise. “Go back to the darkness! Go!” 

The mind-flayer’s tentacles wave for a moment and then it says, in harshly sibilant tones, speaking in the tongue of the daelkyr, “Fool! This is our hour. Do you not know death when you see it? You shall fall and your city shall burn. Die now and curse in vain!” It lifts the staff and flames leap up around the dragonshard.

Korm doesn’t move, hefting his meteoric blade, cloaker-wings flapping in preparation for one last, doomed charge.

And in that very moment, suddenly, there is an explosion behind the mind-flayer, followed by screams of pained surprise. Far above, under cover of the rising smoke, Six has ordered the two airships to advance until they are directly above the enemy clustered around the gates. Now, Lyrandar sailors hurriedly push casks of alchemist’s fire and other heavy objects overboard, while others fire arrows down into the aberrations, even as the airships turn to retreat out of range. The ground in the area shakes under the powerful, if short-lived, aerial bombardment. 

And then, as if in answer, there comes from far away another note. It rumbles loudly and long, like a blast of thunder, but instead of diminishing it slowly increases in volume instead. In the dark sides of Flamekeep’s cliffs it dimly echoes, over and over. 

Luna has come at last!*

*…*

Six had seen it first, from his position on the deck of an airship floating above the spires of Flamekeep, a dark line near the horizon which advanced inexorably towards the land. He watches it carefully, wanting to make certain that it was the tidal wave, dividing his attention between it and the battle. The beholder attack temporarily distracts him, as does the athachs breaking in at the gates, but when he glances back to the wave he can see it is what he hoped, and he swiftly informs Nameless.

The warforged studies the battle a little longer and then decides that it will be too risky to count on the others holding the aberrations until the wave arrives. So he orders the two airships forward, but upward as well, so that there is less of a chance of the aberrations spotting them before they can interfere. 

The _Falcon_ and _Blackjack_ soar majestically forward, propelled slowly by the bound elementals in their rotating rings. Their captains carefully use the smoke rising from the battlefield and the dust clouds now blanketing it, so that the aberrations do not glimpse the approaching airships.

While this slows down their approach, it is still only a few minutes before the airships arrive above the embattled fortifications outside the city. Six, studying the positions of the aberration forces through breaks in the smoke, asks the captains to shift them a little back and forth, before he is satisfied.

Then he turns to look out at the bay again. The tidal wave is now much closer, only a few miles off-shore. It describes a long, slightly curved line, stretching across dozens of miles, and Six can now see clearly that it is made up of multiple waves. The warforged notes in fascination that the wave seems to actually be increasing in height as it encounters shallower water, especially in the center. He also notes, right in the middle and some distance behind the front, the form of a large bird—rendered tiny at this distance—soaring in the wake of the wake of the giant wave.  

“All right,” he says, turning to the airship sailors watching the wave with rapt attention, “We need to unload and retreat before any flying aberrations can attack us.” He glances back at the wave. _Though I think they’ll be distracted_.

*…*

Once they notice the oncoming wave, the aberration forces are thrown quickly into confusion. Those that spot it first shout warnings to others, those in the rear press forward to try and see what it is, those in front attempt to retreat from it, there is uncertainty about whether to press on with the attack or retreat, conflicting orders fly back and forth, and soon the attack is thoroughly stalled. 

The mind-flayer general at the gate snarls in frustration and casts a spell, _fly_ing up and away, as do some of the others. Which leaves a significantly lessened number of aberrations, whose confusion at events is significantly heightened as Gareth and Korm lead a swift sortie, backed up by the remainder of the Deneith contingent and whoever else can follow them. In only a couple of minutes, the gate is free of attackers. And a moment later, is blocked by a _wall of stone_ from Nameless, which the defenders quickly begin to build a barricade of rubble around.

Meanwhile, some sections of the aberration army, presumably those with better commanders present, attempt to retreat towards the west, away from the bay and the giant wave. But the sheer size of the invading force now hampers them, with far too many of their own allies in the way.

And soon, in minutes, it is far too late.

With an earth-shaking roar, the wave strikes the western edge of the bay of Scions Sound. Though the rocky cliffs that look out over the bay absorb some of the impact, they also cause the swells to surge sharply upwards and break over their lip, throwing up a giant sheet of spray. Thousands of tons of water smash into the rocks and over, the crest of the breaking wave shooting up and over the edge of the cliffs – and onto the aberrations beyond. 

The eastern portion of the aberration army is decimated by the wave, which smashes them off their feet and into each other, breaking bones and crushing flesh. Many hundreds are slain outright, and those who are not are left battered and bruised – for the few remaining moments that they have. The water sweeps on in a gigantic semi-circle, slowing gradually, until it reaches a full quarter-mile in from the cliff-edge. And then, with a loud sucking sound it pulls back, gradually building up speed. Many of the aberrations who were staggering back to their feet are pulled off it again – if they are lucky. Most of those closer to the cliff-edge are drawn back with the retreating water, until they disappear into the bay beyond.

The entire process takes only a few minutes, but its results are just as devastating as the Guardian Angels had hoped. When the wave clears, what it leaves is a gigantic area covered in fallen aberrations and strewn with debris, most from the victims but much of it also brought by the water. The attacking army is utterly dismantled, quickly reduced from a deadly force to heaps of dead or dying. Among them stagger the stunned survivors, wailing with confusion and horror. While a substantial part of the huge army extended beyond the area the wave covered or—in rare cases—managed to flee from it, they too stand and stare in shock, milling back and forth aimlessly. 

The defensive forces of Flamekeep—who had no idea about the Guardian Angels’ plan—are equally shocked, but essentially untouched, safe behind the defensive walls of the fortifications. They too stand and watch for a few seconds, before raising a ragged cheer. The cries are taken up by those watching far beyond, on the walls of Flamekeep, and they echo back and forth, slowly shifting in register from relief to triumph.

Nameless, looking forth over the scene, allows himself a thin smile too, as he transmits, _“Six, it looks like the wave did its job, but you have a better view than me. Situation?”_

Six responds, _“They’re in bad shape. The wave killed thousands, and the remaining bunch seems totally confused.”_ He carefully studies some flying figures hovering above the battlefield and adds, _“I think some of their leaders managed to fly above the wave and are trying to gather their remaining troops. It doesn’t seem to be working, but this would be the time to lead a sortie against them.”_ 

_“Yes,”_ another voice joins in over the link, _“That’s a good idea. And we’re on the way.”_

The voice is clearly Cedric’s and, from his vantage, Six looks east towards its source. What looks, at this distance, like a giant crescent moon of silver is advancing towards the far edge of the remaining aberration forces. Cedric’s cavalry contingent, three thousand strong, moves swiftly over the fields of Thrane, the sound of their galloping hooves carrying even to the distant city. The aberrations closest to them either try to flee or put themselves in some sort of defensive posture, but it is clear they are in no shape to withstand the assault. 

Gareth and Korm stride over to join Nameless, followed closely by a small group of Thranish warriors. In the lead is Knight Commander Malik Otherro, who had been leading the defense on the far flank from the Angels, wanting to ensure that it didn’t buckle while the center held. The general’s armor is broken and bloodied, but he smiles broadly. “Your work, I presume? When you told me you had a few surprises I had … no idea!”

“We try to please,” Nameless rasps. “Is there any chance we can organize an attack? Cedric is hitting them, and if we do the same too, we can utterly smash them.” He glances out at the aberrations. “What’s left of them.”

“Certainly,” says Otherro. He points at the bridge leading to the city, along which troops can be seen moving. “I see some of our reserves are on the way too.” He frowns, but then shakes his head and chuckles. “I didn’t order it, but I can’t complain. It’ll help, since I’d rather send fresher troops out from the wall while we continue to hold it.”

Korm, badly bloodied as he is, chuckles grimly, “Speak for yourself. I haven’t killed nearly enough aberrations today!”

“Yeah! Me neither!” shouts Gareth’s sword, causing the paladin to roll his eyes. Gareth considers shushing the sword, but then shrugs. “For once, I’ll agree with the Blade.”

“We are agreed then,” says Nameless. “We need to….” He pauses suddenly and then turns quickly to look at the battlefield. “Wait, we forgot about the….”

Before he can complete the sentence, Six forestalls him with another message, _“Nameless, I just realized – the Worm is gone! I can’t get a good view of the spot where it was from here, but I think it burrowed underground just before the wave hit.”_

“Damn,” says Nameless, “It could be any….”

Again, the sentence goes uncompleted. _“Nameless!”_ says the calm but urgent voice, clearly that of Jaela, _“The Silver Flame is under attack! Join me in its chamber!”_ 



* That’s probably my favorite passage from _The Lord of the Rings_, and it seemed fitting.


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:


> A grey-haired warrior, fighting at Gareth’s side, grabs the paladin’s arm during a rare pause in the fighting. “This location is lost, Sir Gareth,” she says quickly. “If we stay here, everyone will die. Lead the remaining defenders back across the bridge and hold the enemy there. Or break it down, if need be.”
> 
> Gareth shakes his head, partly in disagreement and partly to get combined sweat and blood out of his eyes. “We cannot. The aberrations will cut everyone down before we can make it there.”
> 
> “No,” says the warrior, “We shall hold them here and buy you time.” She smiles grimly as she indicates the insignia on her helmet, displaying her rank and the snarling chimera-heads of the House she serves – and which Gareth comes from. “For duty and the honor of House Deneith!”
> 
> (snip)
> 
> The woman smiles again and replies, “It has been an honor!” Then she turns and raises her sword, shouting, “House Deneith! To me! Prepare to form a defensive line!” As many of the defenders begin to move towards her, Gareth now notices that the entire Deneith contingent had followed him towards the gates. Perhaps only half of them remain, all bloodied and battered. Nevertheless, without a word, they move to obey their superior.
> (snip)




This part brought a tear to my eye (really).


shilsen said:


> Luna has come at last!*




I whole-heartedly thought she would fall on some creature and make it go splat 


Great write-up.  It had good heroic elements for everyone!

EDIT:



shilsen said:


> A grey-haired warrior, fighting at Gareth’s side, grabs the paladin’s arm during a rare pause in the fighting. “This location is lost, Sir Gareth,” she says quickly. “If we stay here, everyone will die. Lead the remaining defenders back across the bridge and hold the enemy there. Or break it down, if need be.”
> 
> Gareth shakes his head, partly in disagreement and partly to get combined sweat and blood out of his eyes. “We cannot. The aberrations will cut everyone down before we can make it there.”
> 
> “No,” says the warrior, “We shall hold them here and buy you time.” She smiles grimly as she indicates the insignia on her helmet, displaying her rank and the snarling chimera-heads of the House she serves – and which Gareth comes from. “For duty and the honor of House Deneith!”
> 
> (snip)
> 
> The woman smiles again and replies, “It has been an honor!” Then she turns and raises her sword, shouting, “House Deneith! To me! Prepare to form a defensive line!” As many of the defenders begin to move towards her, Gareth now notices that the entire Deneith contingent had followed him towards the gates. Perhaps only half of them remain, all bloodied and battered. Nevertheless, without a word, they move to obey their superior.
> (snip)




This part brought a tear to my eye (really).



shilsen said:


> Endless Blade free. “F*ck, yeah!” exults the sword,




One of these days I gotta remember to ask the sword "Whose your Paladin?"


----------



## carborundum

LOL! 

<Mr. T voice>
Who da P'ladin?
Me da P'ladin!
You da FOOL!
</Mr. T voice>


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:


> This part brought a tear to my eye (really).




Cool. Every once in a while I like to have a bit in there about how the things the Guardian Angels are involved with also affect the common people of Khorvaire. 



carborundum said:


> LOL!
> 
> <Mr. T voice>
> Who da P'ladin?
> Me da P'ladin!
> You da FOOL!
> </Mr. T voice>




Damn - I never considered Gareth as played by Mr. T, but now...


----------



## carborundum

Yeah, even though Korm probably looks like him (and has a Mohawk???) 

The A-team is a pretty good fit character wise - maybe your subconscious knew all along? 

Luna = Murdock
Nameless = Hannibal

darn... cast the net wider...

Six = Macgyver
Korm = BA Baracus (more so than Gareth I must admit)
Gareth = Magnum


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## Rackhir

shilsen said:


> Damn - I never considered Gareth as played by Mr. T, but now...




I'm just not seeing Mr. T saying "HEAL ME!!!" in a squeaky, high pitched, panicky voice.



			
				carborundum said:
			
		

> Nameless = Hannibal




No he's much more a spark from Phil Foglio's Girl Genius

Girl Genius Online Comics!


----------



## shilsen

I'm off to India tomorrow, so it'll be a few days before the next update.


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## shilsen

India's been keeping me busy, what with lots of visits to the dentist (root canals are FUN!), visa application stuff, meeting up with friends and such, plus I'll be traveling to a couple of different places over the next fortnight, so it'll be a while before the next update.


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## Rackhir

garlantinapple said:


> oh what's this?
> Gareth and Six charge the invisible archer, who is made an easy target  by another faerie fire from Luna, while Corven engages the cleric with  his crossbow and Raog charges him. Despite being critically wounded,  Nameless manages to summon a celestial riding dog to keep the cleric  busy.




I'm sorry, but I don't understand what your question is here. It seems straightforward enough.

The early posts like this one are essentially just Shil's notes and summary about what happened in a session. The real "story hour" doesn't start until a page or two past the start of things.


----------



## shilsen

As soon as he receives the magically transmitted call for help from Jaela, Nameless sends a group response to everyone connected via his _telepathic bond_, while verbalizing it for the sake of those around him, “We’re on our way. I’m _teleport_ing into the corridor outside the chamber with Gareth, Korm and Prine. Six, bring the trolls with you. Luna, join us there.”

Immediately, there’s an anguished wail over the link, clearly recognizable as Luna. _“Noooo! I’m still a thousand feet from shore! Don’t start without meeeeeeeeee…”_

_“Then get there as quick as you can!”_ Nameless snaps over the link, preparing to leave. As Korm, Gareth and Prine gather around him, the alienist quickly says to Malik Otherro, “The field is yours, Commander. We have to return to the Cathedral!”

The Knight Commander doesn’t bother asking questions, simply nodding and saying, “Flame watch over you!” Then he turns away, beginning to shout orders.

Another voice now speaks over the _telepathic bond_, Cedric simply saying, _“Essirise and I’ll be there as fast as we can.”_

With a terse affirmative response, Nameless casts his spell, and the three Guardian Angels plus Prine disappear from the battlements.

*. . .* 

Far above, on the airship from which he has been watching the battle, Six already has his _portable hole_ open before him, extending magically downwards into the deck of the _Falcon_. As bemused Lyrandar crew-members watch, four of the six trolls with Six force themselves into the magical space. Though it is clearly far too small for them, their eagerness to finally get into battle causes the creatures to jam themselves in somehow, the effort accompanied by pained growls and some sounds which the warforged can only surmise is that of cracking bone. 

Once they are ready, Six opens the scroll in his hand and begins to read from it.  

*. . .*

Flapping her way towards the western edge of the bay, Luna growls irritably as she looks at the coastline, attempting to gauge how long it will take her if she _dimension door_s closer and then flies the rest of the way. After a moment, she decides that it will take too long. Looking down at the choppy water some hundreds of feet below, still tumultuous from the aftereffects of the tidal wave, Luna comes to a quick and characteristically idiosyncratic decision. 

If there were anyone near enough to see, they might be surprised as the overly large albatross simply stops using its wings and drops towards the waves below. But probably not as surprised as when it transforms, just before it hits the water, into a huge shark.

There is a gigantic splash as Luna hits. Ignoring the painful impact, Luna flicks her tail and drives herself swiftly downwards towards the ground below her, which she must be in contact with to use a _master earth_.

*. . .*

Since he cannot _teleport_ directly into the chamber of the Flame, which is warded against magical incursion, Nameless arrives instead in the large tunnel immediately outside the huge room. When they arrive, the first thing that three Angels and Prine notice are the four warforged guards – or more precisely their corpses, which lie outside the giant stone doors. The guards’ wood-and-metal bodies have been both scorched and badly distorted, with odd bulges and lumps here and there, some of which look like fleshy tumors. 

Beyond the bodies, the doors to the chamber still stand closed, but each of them is missing a large chunk where it meets the other. That section of each door has been roughly melted out of them, as evidenced by a thick pool of mud on the floor. In the gap lies a dead mind-flayer, most of its tentacled face blasted off by some force. 

As they appear, the Angels can hear the loud sounds of fighting around the corner of the tunnel, in the opposite direction to the chamber, but none of them pays it any heed. Their focus is purely on the sight visible through the gap in the doors. The gigantic pillar of the Silver Flame gleams before them, and standing near it is Jaela, lips and hands moving in the motions of a spell. She completes it, causing a bolt of energy—the same crackling argent as the Flame—to shoot forth, impacting against something which emits a gurgling scream, hidden from the Angels’ view by the rest of the doors. As she completes the spell, Jaela staggers back a couple of steps, grabbing her head in evident pain.

As the Angels rush in, the first thing they see is Jaela’s faithful guardian, the dragonhound Skaravojen, rising with scorched fur and bloodied jaws from the corpse of a mind flayer. Beside it lies another mind flayer, evidently the target of Jaela’s recent spell, and nearby stands another mind flayer—evidently a spellcasting one—next to two corpses in the livery of the Cathedral. Near them, two similarly-garbed warriors face a figure that the Angels have all seen before, some of them only for moments – the daelkyr lord Antaratma. 

In the very moment that the Angels enter, Antaratma lashes out with the whip which grows out of his left hand, coiling it around the throat of one of the two men facing him. The man’s eyes bulge for a moment in pain and terror before he collapses, the flesh of his face expanding in strange bulges like gigantic warts. Antaratma’s other hand closes on the arm of the second liveried warrior, causing him to collapse similarly. 

A smile spread across the daelkyr lord’s perfect face, but it fades swiftly as he glances past his victims at the new arrivals. For a moment Antaratma is clearly lost for words, until he bursts out, “YOU?!”

Nameless smiles back, inordinately pleased at the daelkyr’s response. As he smiles, his form twists and warps slightly, as he opens himself up further to his connection with Xoriat, manifesting the Aspect that he has been imbued with. “You know, Auntie, it never gets old – the look of astonishment on a daelkyr lord’s face.”

Antaratma’s mouth works soundlessly for a second and then the smile is replaced by a snarl. “You have outlived your usefulness, fool!” He cracks his whip and the floor of the chamber trembles slightly in response. “I shall end you all myself!”

“Less talk, more killing,” Korm laughs grimly, and the battle is joined. Despite his fatalistic outlook, the Gatekeeper is in no hurry to die, and he swiftly casts a _death ward_ as well as an _assay resistance_. Nameless uses the latter spell as well, before calling Khat’van’ga to his side. The Eldritch Horror flows forward, tentacles waving menacingly before it. 

Khat’van’ga’s targets are the spawn of Xoriat, so its appearance does not have the supernaturally terrifying effect it has on more mundane foes, but the danger it poses is quite clear. The mind flayer instantly raises its hand to begin casting a spell. But before it can finish, a gleaming figure charges down on it. 

The illithid spellcaster staggers back with a scream as Gareth swings the Endless Blade, laying open its entire chest. Before it can recover, another figure tumbles behind it. Steel flashes in the light of the Flame and the mind flayer goes rigid, the tips of Prine’s twin blades emerging neatly from its chest.

The scout from Argonnessen grins as he extricates his short swords from his target and then flinches aside as Khat’van’ga floats by, tentacles reaching for the daelkyr. But it is Antaratma who strikes first. The daelkyr lord reaches swiftly into Khat’van’ga’s grasp. Evading the grasp of the writhing tentacles, he instead seizes one of each with his whip and his free hand. The Eldritch Horror shudders at the grasp, weeping sores appearing and flowing along the tentacles to its central bulk, which bulges and warps*.

Antaratma smiles again and then glances around the chamber, his green eyes glowing with the power of the plane of madness. The Angels are warded against such attacks, as is Jaela, but Prine is not. He staggers back, dropping his swords in fear.

A dark shape leaps past the retreating Prine, a deep growl emanating from between bared teeth, as Skaravojen charges the sole remaining enemy threatening his mistress. But before the faithful beast can bite, Antaratma reacts with preternatural speed, his whip lashing out to strike Skaravojen between the eyes. Without a sound, the dragonhound drops in a heap. 

“NO!” shouts Jaela, rushing forward heedlessly. The young girl drops to her knees beside her fallen guardian, channeling a _heal_ into Skaravojen’s recumbent form. But there is no response. 

Jaela gasps in horror and then looks up at Antaratma. Tears are already springing from her eyes, but there is only fury in both gaze and voice as she snaps at the Angels, “Kill it!”

“That’s the plan,” rasps Nameless, calling an order to Khat’van’ga while casting a spell. Unable to summon creatures inside the warded chamber, he instead does so in the tunnel outside. Two huge earth elementals appear, which then lumber forward and toward the daelkyr. Meanwhile, the Horror throws its tentacles around Antaratma, but the daelkyr only smiles in response. His form shifts and warps strangely, flowing like water out from between Khat’van’ga’s tentacles, till he stands beyond them. 

However, some other attacks are not as easy to avoid. The paladin rushes in and Antaratma prepares to strike when he attempts to close in. But as Gareth moves, the Endless Blade is already forming into a long polearm at his command, enabling him to strike from a greater distance. Silver flame leaps up as he powerfully smites the daelkyr, causing it to take a step back. An instant later, Korm’s _horrid wilting_ strikes Antaratma, causing patches of the daelkyr’s flesh to desiccate and wither. 

But only for a moment. Antaratma smiles viciously, his flesh reforming and causing the desiccation to fade, though the wound from the Endless Blade remains. Then he glances at Nameless and the alienist feels his flesh shudder and writhe as a powerful force attempts to reshape it. With a concerted effort, Nameless fights it off, and then throws the daelkyr an insouciant grin.

Antaratma’s own superior smile fades for a moment and then he steps forward, whip and claws striking out in different directions at once. The whip leaps out at Gareth and, even though the daelkyr doesn’t even glance at the paladin, weaves past his defenses as if having a mind of its own. In the last instant, Gareth sees the small fang-like mouth and the rings of tiny eyes on it, marking it as a living aberration of some kind, and then it bites into his shoulder. He feels instantly weaker, as if his health were being drained.

Khat’van’ga is even less fortunate, the daelkyr’s claws sinking deep into its body, ripping and tearing. Dark corruption spreads swiftly from the wound, warping the Horror’s strange flesh. Khat’van’ga shudders soundlessly for a moment and then fades into nothingness. 

As the daelkyr smiles again, there is movement in the tunnel beyond and Six appears, a pair of the armored trolls from Droaam beside him. The warforged throws a swift look around the chamber (and at Prine, running down the tunnel in the opposite direction) and quickly drops the _portable hole_ he is carrying to the ground. As he straightens it, a large clawed, green hand emerges from the hole, followed by a troll’s head and shoulders.

“Oh, good,” Korm chuckles grimly, “You’re just in time. We’re all gonna die!”

“Not yet!” says Nameless. “Jaela, can you help lower his resistances?”

“Yes,” says Jaela grimly, rising to her feet. The guardian of the Silver Flame calls out to her deity, the manifestation of which burns brightly beside her, and speaks the words of a spell. All of the others in the chamber, even the daelkyr, focus on her for a moment as they realize what she has just done. The air vibrates with incredible magical power for an instant as the Silver Flame grants Jaela a _miracle_. 

There is no visible effect, but Jaela smiles harshly and then points at the daelkyr. “Hit it with your best spell!”

Nameless is already casting and he intones, “Otamay’Resiurc’Ecaps” as a beam of green energy shoots from his hand and strikes Antaratma. This time, there is no laughter or pretense of superiority from the daelkyr. Antaratma utters a muffled scream and staggers back as the empowered _disintegrate_** takes full effect, his resistances having been temporarily nullified by Jaela’s spell***.

As the daelkyr recovers its footing, those watching can see that huge swathes of flesh from his upper torso have been vaporized. Bone, muscle and strange, indeterminate organs are visible. But Antaratma is apparently still functional, as he straightens and snarls, “Is that the best you have?”

Moments later, Gareth, Korm, Six, two huge elementals, and half a dozen trolls descend upon the daelkyr. 

Antaratma is again driven back by the sheer force of the assault and the numbers opposing him, but he remains on his feet. His whip and claws strike out again, further wounding Gareth and draining Korm too. An invisible wave of mind-bending energy flows out from him, befuddling one of the elementals and two trolls, one of which flees in abject terror. Even the number of his enemies works in his favor, since some of the larger ones get in each other’s way in their eagerness to strike, making it easier for his considerable defenses to foil the attacks.

But Antaratma is clearly on the defensive and, one by one, attacks do hit home. The daelkyr has to ignore offense and specifically focus on reshaping his ravaged body. The process actually heals all of the damage Nameless did but can do nothing for the assault occurring in the interim.

As the daelkyr attempts to back away, Gareth sees an opening and charges in to smite the daelkyr again. Antaratma groans at the impact of the holy sword against his flesh and falters in his retreat, now clearly badly hurt****.

“That’s it,” says Nameless, floating higher so that he can carefully follow the melee. “Keep on him!”

While the others follow the command, Six—having paused to use his magical harness to increase his size—whips back his spiked chain. And then looks down. “Look out,” he calls out over the melee, “We have co….”

Before he can complete the warning, the now-giant warforged is violently flung aside and almost off his feet. So are a few others, those less adroit tumbling to the ground, and everyone in the room has to fight to keep their balance. A thirty-foot wide section of the floor of the chamber explodes upwards, thick cracks radiating out from it and causing other parts of the stone to break and push upwards too.

The colossal head of Mual-Tar, the Chaos Serpent, crashes up and through the floor, shooting up towards the ceiling till it stops to gaze down at the combatants from a height of nearly fifty feet. The Guardian Angels look up into lidless eyes, their alien depths devoid of feeling or emotion, pitch-black except for tiny twinkling flecks, which make them appear like windows into the night sky of some far universe. Below them is a broad mouth wider than the huge elementals, from which a flat, forked and four-pointed tongue scents the air. Invisible waves of power emanate from the Chaos Serpent, and the watchers feel their magical protections suddenly wink out for an instant, before they reassert themselves. Even the Silver Flame wavers for a moment. 

Korm laughs grimly at the sight and hefts the meteoric blade. “See – I _knew_ we were going to die.”


* 14 pts Con drain between the two attacks 

** Otherwise known as 60d6 damage.

*** Nameless did 193 hp damage with that one spell, rolling a natural 20 to get through SR. It was a _good_ Miracle!

**** Gareth did 185 pts of damage in two successful attacks.


----------



## carborundum

Wow - that's an epic fight! The drama. the tension... yummy! More please! Feed me, Seymour! 

Are the PCs 20th level now, or does Nameless have a higher cater level for Transmutation? (60d6 empowered disintegrate...)


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## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> Wow - that's an epic fight! The drama. the tension... yummy! More please! Feed me, Seymour!
> 
> Are the PCs 20th level now, or does Nameless have a higher cater level for Transmutation? (60d6 empowered disintegrate...)




Nameless has a ring of Meta Magics (MM), which lets him use a couple of different MMs for free, with no delay, on spells up to 6th lv 1/day or 3/day on up to 3rd lv. One of them is empower spell (50% increase in variable effects) + 40d6 (disintegrate caps at 40d6) = 60d6.

Nameless was 16th at the time and with his Aspect of Cyäegha (which gives him a +4 caster lv boost, among other things) does hit a caster lv of 20.


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Wow - that's an epic fight! The drama. the tension... yummy! More please! Feed me, Seymour!




I've been busy with the first week of school and running the Kingmaker AP for the group, but I have the next writeup almost done. Things get interesting for our heroes ... and for Khorvaire


----------



## shilsen

Antaratma smiles in triumph and shouts, raising his clawed hand and living whip dramatically, “Mual-Tar – destroy the Flame!”

There is a thunderous roar of response from the Chaos Serpent as more of its length pours into the chamber through the gaping crack in the floor, but it shows no signs of following the daelkyr lord’s command. Instead, it violently hurls its mass forward, smashing the occupants off their feet and crushing them painfully against the floor or walls.*

Luckily, while the impact of the many tons of unnatural flesh would have slain most normal enemies, none of those present in the chamber—from the diminutive form of Jaela to the varied members of the Guardian Angels to the troll-guards of Sora Maenya to the towering elementals that Nameless has conjured—can accurately be described as normal, so they are only left bruised and battered. 

Even Antaratma is hurled backwards, a look of surprise flashing across his perfect features, barely managing to keep his feet at the impact. The expression is swiftly replaced by one of wrath, though tinged perhaps with alarm, as he cries out, “No! You must obey me!” 

“Doesn’t look like it, Auntie,” rasps Nameless, brain churning madly as he attempts to formulate a viable plan. _How do we keep them away from the Flame? Mual-Tar is too large and if Antaratma gets near…._ And then he stops to mentally slap his forehead. _Of course!_ Before snapping at the other Angels, “Try to keep the damn snake off me. I have a plan!”

“Great!” replies Korm, looking up at the coils of Mual-Tar. “Just do it quickly,” he says, feeling a couple of his protective enhancements wink out at the creature’s proximity. “We don’t have much time!” 

Despite his words, the Gatekeeper doesn’t hesitate, hurling himself at the gigantic creature. His meteoric blade flashes down, striking a scale as large as his torso and cracking it, causing dark blood to gush from the wound. Korm grins in relief at the fact that he can hurt the thing, until he realizes that in comparison to the Chaos Serpent’s size, this is only a little scratch.

Beside him, Gareth too hews at Mual-Tar, with similar success. A command from Six causes the trolls to rush the serpent too, but they have almost no effect, even their powerful blows simply bouncing off the creature’s scales as if they were pounding on an animated mountain. Six’s chain, however, has similar effect to Korm’s and Gareth’s weapons.

An instant later, there is a roar from behind the group as Luna appears just outside the chamber in the form of a huge bear, albeit one dripping with salt-water. _“Finally!”_ The druid’s mental shout reverberates through the minds of those unfortunate enough to have a _telepathic link_ to her, as she bounds forward too. Though completely dwarfed by Mual-Tar, she rears up to bite and claw at it, but with no more effect than the trolls have. 

At Luna’s roar of baffled fury, Jaela calls out, “Keep attacking! Don’t give up!” The words are backed up by a powerful spell, which provides healing energy to almost the entire group.

Meanwhile, with his foes distracted by the newer adversary, Antaratma again causes his form to shift and morph, closing many of his wounds. The angry frown fades from his face into a smirk. “No matter,” he says, “Mual-Tar will slay you all and then we will take the Flame.” He meets Nameless’ gaze and smiles triumphantly. “You know you cannot damage me enough, Nameless,” he says.

“Maybe not,” rasps Nameless, with a grim smile, “But there IS something here that can.” He shouts a command in the rumbling tones of the elementals, and his two summoned creatures surge forward. As they reach out to Antaratma, the daelkyr continues to smirk. “Fool! You know they cannot hold me.”

“Who’s holding?” replies Nameless with a smile, as the elementals reach out. Just as he had commanded, instead of attempting to strike or grab onto the daelkyr lord, they simply use their giant arms and rocky bulk to drive him backwards. 

Caught off-guard by the maneuver, Antaratma takes a couple of seconds before he can respond, again attempting to simply flow away from them. But the width of the huge arms and the fact that the elementals are simply working in unison to propel him backwards means there’s no empty space to move to. And before he can think of something else, it is too late.

The elementals shove Antaratma inexorably backwards, across the chamber’s now cracked and broken floor … and right into the pillar of the Silver Flame. The belatedly dawning look of comprehension on his face is instantly replaced by one of agony. And then, for the first time in many millennia, the agonized scream of a daelkyr lord is heard in Khorvaire. 

Even the others in the chamber pause to look. They see Antaratma suspended within the Flame, writhing in pain and struggling vainly to escape. The elementals stolidly hold him in place, even though their rocky arms are charring away. The effect on the daelkyr’s unnatural form is far more drastic. His skin peels away in seconds and is vaporized, followed by the flesh beneath and then the internal organs. The living whip attached to his arm flagellates for a moment and then withers away. 

But, despite the incredible damage, the daelkyr lord’s incredible constitution and aberrant nature attempt to compensate, his body swiftly morphing and trying to regrow the parts that are being scoured away by the divine flames. Incredibly, Antaratma remains alive, and with a desperate effort he slides past the giant fists that are holding him in the Flame and steps out of it.

_Damn – they can’t hold him in there long enough!_ For a moment, Nameless considers having his elementals drive the daelkyr lord into the Flame and then leaping in himself, using the hemisphere of force his staff can erect around him to hold them in there. _Which would kill me, but destroy it too. I wonder if Gareth would finally trust me if I died defending the Flame. No … no, he wouldn’t._

Luckily, the alienist doesn’t have to put the theory to the test. Following his lead, Luna now speaks the words of a spell, drawing on her druidic connection to the land of Khorvaire to complete it with exceptional speed. Another giant elemental appears, extending its arms to bar the daelkyr lord’s path. Antaratma shifts position, trying to get by it, but the momentary delay is enough for Six. His magical chain flashes between the elementals, punching into Antaratma’s chest and driving him a step backwards. The daelkyr lord teeters, trying to catch his balance, and the three giant elementals drive him back into the Silver Flame, again barring his escape with their own bodies.

Antaratma screams again … for the final time. The renewed damage is too swift and too powerful. In a second, the daelkyr lord is reduced to a skeleton, which somehow continues to struggle for a few moments more, before crumbling to nothingness.

Which still leaves the Guardian Angels and their allies with one colossal problem.

Mual-Tar too had paused to consider the sight of the daelkyr lord withering away in the Silver Flame, but now it again flows forward and around the chamber, grinding and crushing its foes. While doing so, it emits another roar which—for lack of a better word—seems utterly gleeful, seemingly unconcerned at the multiple enemies pounding away at it.

As she struggles back to her feet from the latest assault, Jaela begins to cast another powerful healing spell, while warning, “I can keep this up for a while, but not indefinitely. And my magic….” She stops, gasping in horror as the spell’s magic simply dissipates with no effect, leaving her allies just as damaged as they were.

“It’s the damn aura,” growls Luna. “See – I told you guys how much it sucks!”

“Yes, Luna,” grunts Korm, casting a swift spell and feeling slightly surprised—and very relieved—as it takes effect to close some of his wounds, “You told us so. You were right. Yay!” Shaking his head, he continues to strike at the snake. 

So do the others in the room, with Nameless’ elementals joining the battle, though with barely any more success than the trolls from Droaam. The alienist, unable to affect the Chaos Serpent with any direct magic, begins to cast bolstering and protective spells on the group, some of which also fizzles out.

Of all the foes assaulting it, only Korm’s, Six’s and Gareth’s weapons seem able to really hurt Mual-Tar, a fact which it seems now to have realized. As the paladin strikes a tremendous blow, one which would have felled a giant but in this case only cuts a gash in the Serpent’s hide, Mual-Tar pauses. 

Seeing the gigantic coils stop flowing past him, Gareth looks up—and up, and up, and up—until he sees the head of the Chaos Serpent towering far above him. Its two slitted eyes, each much longer than the paladin’s own height, are focused on him, and as Gareth meets their gaze he stands stock-still. The two eyes are utterly dark and expressionless, but as he looks into them he sees faint movement. There are tiny lights within them, like stars in a cloudless and moonless sky. _No_, he suddenly realizes, though he cannot say from where the knowledge comes, _They ARE stars. In a space … beyond._ Somehow, with utter certainty, the paladin knows that he is looking into what is contained within the Chaos Serpent, an entire other cosmos, not just stars but planets and moons and an entire other order of creation. 

What Gareth looks into is utterly alien, far beyond any kind of consciousness that he can conceive of, but there is one thing he recognizes in its gaze – hunger. Mual-Tar is a form of creation that exists primarily, or perhaps only, to devour what lies beyond itself. The paladin has no idea from where or how it was planted in Khorvaire in the ancient ziggurat in the Shadow Marches, but he knows now with utter clarity why the daelkyr planned its arrival. So that it could utterly consume the life that inhabits the world of Eberron, from the tiniest plant to the mightiest of the dragons, leaving the planet to those who would transform it to whatever they chose – the lords of the daelkyr.

In that one, long moment Gareth experiences a little of what Nameless is constantly aware of. That the long history of Eberron, of humanity and all that came before it, is only a tiny mote in the eye of eternity. It is what lurks beyond, in the utter darkness between the stars and in the invisible folds between the planes, that is truly timeless, laughing as it watches tiny creatures scurry over the surface of the planet and awaiting the inevitable moment when all that they are is reduced to the dust they arose from. The universe is ruled not by light and order, but by darkness and chaos. And here, made manifest before him, _is_ that darkness made flesh. 

The only thing that protects Gareth’s sanity at this moment is his _mind blank_, a barrier which halts even the Chaos Serpent’s power. But for only an instant, before its will simply shreds the powerful magical ward as if it were paper. 

That instant, however, is just long enough for Gareth to pull his gaze away, though the effort of doing so leaves him shaking. As he looks away, the Endless Blade, mentally attuned to its master, says, “Hey, boss – what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” says the paladin, “Just…,” but before he can continue the Blade snaps, “Look out!”

Gareth snaps his gaze back up, just in time to see Mual-Tar’s descending jaws, which close around him.

The others gasp in horror as the Chaos Serpent’s mouth hits the ground where Gareth stood and which, as it lifts slowly upwards, is now an empty space.

“Oh, no,” gasps Luna, “Not again!”

But it’s not quite the same as the last time Gareth was ingested by Mual-Tar, primarily because he is still alive. The paladin can see nothing, feeling only a nauseatingly sticky wetness enveloping him. With most of his protections gone, destroyed by the creature’s aura, he feels a terrible coldness enter him, the debilitating chill of negative energy.** 

Again, the paladin is incredibly lucky. One of the few dweomers still protecting him is a _freedom of movement_, and as weakly struggles weakly, he feels the wetness around him give way.

The others see Gareth suddenly appear above them, sliding out of Mual-Tar’s mouth and dropping awkwardly to the ground. 

As he hits, Luna is next to him, reaching out a giant paw to heal him. And then she swears vituperatively as the spell fades away. “F*ck, f*ck, f*ck! We’re dead!” Behind Luna, her elemental and one of Nameless’ disappear as the Serpent’s aura increases its effect.

Though the others desperately renew their assault, Mual-Tar continues to ignore them for the moment, its gigantic head swaying slightly as it considers the paladin and the growling bear crouched protectively over him. And then it turns away.

Perhaps whatever passes for a mind within it is disappointed at the escape of its prey. Perhaps it is simply tired of the myriad attacks, at least some of which are wounding it, though not seriously. Perhaps it no longer finds entertainment in what it has been doing so far. Or perhaps it notices the figures rushing through the doorway, as Cedric charges into the room, followed closely behind by the planetar Samarien and the dragon Essirise.

Whatever the reason for its decision, the Chaos Serpent turns away. And hurls itself head-first into the Silver Flame, which simply breaks apart as Mual-Tar impacts it. 

The giant fiery column breaks up into a myriad individual sparks, which flow down and away. Most of them descend into Mual-Tar’s form, sinking in and disappearing without a trace. A much smaller number are scattered around the chamber, which float swiftly towards the Guardian Angels, Cedric and Jaela, entering each of their forms.   

There is a soft sound, that of the swift inrush of air into the space that the column had occupied for centuries. Jaela, Cedric and Gareth—likely the three most blessed worshippers of the faith on Khorvaire—all hear a tremendous scream in their minds, seemingly composed of a myriad voices crying out simultaneously in great agony, which instantly fades into dying whispers. And with it they feel their divine powers, whatever they might be, die away.

Like them, across the entire continent of Khorvaire, worshippers of the Silver Flame with divinely-granted powers, from the humble acolyte who can barely conjure up a globe of _light_ to the high priest sanctioned to call down holy wrath on the church’s enemies, feel their connection to the Flame wither and die. Where there was once hope and joy and light, there remains only darkness.

And in the chamber of the Flame, in Flamekeep, that darkness takes a palpable form. As the horrified onlookers gaze at the now vacant spot where the Flame had burned, they see a shape hanging in mid-air. Seemingly composed of moving shadows, it stands taller than Nameless’ elementals and is more clearly humanoid than them, with clearly defined arms and legs, ending in paw-like extremities. Its form is topped with a broad, squat head, set low between its broad shoulders. The shadowy features, difficult to discern, seem to be a cross between demon and feline, vaguely resembling a rakshasa’s. But what are clear about it are the two glowing red catlike eyes, which glare up at Mual-Tar.

Almost exactly seven hundred years ago, Bel Shalor, one of the rakshasa overlords from the Age of Demons, had broken free of his bonds and walked the surface of Khorvaire. But before he could fully regain his power, he was brought low by the paladin Tira Miron and a mighty couatl, whose combined sacrifice led to the appearance of the pillar of Silver Flame. Bel Shalor was imprisoned in the pillar, held there for centuries, unable to affect the world outside except by whispering his dark suggestions through the Flame itself. 

And now Bel Shalor, the Shadow with the Flame, walks free.

With a tigerish roar, the shadow-creature leaps forward, latching onto the Chaos Serpent with its claws. A fanged mouth opens and bites down. Where it strikes, the shadows seem to seep in like poison, causing the area around the wounds to darken.

And this apparently has some effect on Mual-Tar. The Chaos Serpent emits a roar in which, for the first time, pain is evident. It twists and turns, throwing a constricting coil around the much smaller shadow-beast and snapping its gigantic jaws vainly. Unable to reach its attacker, since it is too close to Mual-Tar’s head, the Chaos Serpent hurls its bulk back and forth, smashing the creature—and itself—against the walls of the room.

Already weakened by the Chaos Serpent’s appearance through the floor, the chamber’s stonework groans under the assault and then begins to collapse, huge cracks radiating out from the spots where Mual-Tar and the shadow-beast strike it, while pieces of stone begins to rain down from overhead. 

Jaela, who had staggered back as the Silver Flame disappeared, clutching at her face in horror, moves her hands and looks up. Tears are streaming from her eyes, but when she speaks her voice still sounds much too mature for her age and rings with the commanding tone of the Speaker of the Flame. “Get out!” she snaps, “This battle is over – and you can’t afford to die here!”

“Nor can you,” says Cedric quickly, already in motion. Raising his shield above her head, he scoops up the young girl and runs towards the doorway, shouting, “Follow me!”

“But …,” growls Luna, waving a paw at the battling titans.

“But nothing,” says Six, striding quickly past and dodging falling rubble, “This is over.”

Nobody else pauses to argue. The Guardian Angels and their allies quickly retreat into the tunnel outside the chamber and hurry away. The last they see of Mual-Tar and the creature released from the Flame is the latter continuing to chew on the Chaos Serpent, though now more weakly than earlier as the constricting coils continue to smash it into the walls. And then the entire chamber collapses in on itself, giant stones raining down from above to hide its contents from view.


* 8d8+36 pts of bludgeoning damage, with a DC 64 for half. Yup, you read the DC right.

** Bite attack: Reach 50; +56 vs AC; 6d8+41/19-20 (includes PA) + grab + constrict + energy drain (3 negative levels)


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:


> _I wonder if Gareth would finally trust me if I died defending the Flame. No … no, he wouldn’t._




We all know the answer to that query.



shilsen said:


> Seeing the gigantic coils stop flowing past him, Gareth looks up—and up, and up, and up—until he sees the head of the Chaos Serpent towering far above him. Its two slitted eyes, each much longer than the paladin’s own height, are focused on him, and as Gareth meets their gaze he stands stock-still. The two eyes are utterly dark and expressionless, but as he looks into them he sees faint movement. There are tiny lights within them, like stars in a cloudless and moonless sky. _No_, he suddenly realizes, though he cannot say from where the knowledge comes, _They ARE stars. In a space … beyond._ Somehow, with utter certainty, the paladin knows that he is looking into what is contained within the Chaos Serpent, an entire other cosmos, not just stars but planets and moons and an entire other order of creation.
> 
> The universe is ruled not by light and order, but by darkness and chaos. And here, made manifest before him, _is_ that darkness made flesh.



This is what is known as a "Come to Jesus meeting" When your utter and total faith in the way things are just get shattered in a very cold, hard instant.



shilsen said:


> That instant, however, is just long enough for Gareth to pull his gaze away, though the effort of doing so leaves him shaking. As he looks away, the Endless Blade, mentally attuned to its master, says, “Hey, boss – what’s wrong?”
> 
> “I’m fine,” says the paladin, “Just…,” but before he can continue the Blade snaps, “Look out!”
> 
> Gareth snaps his gaze back up, just in time to see Mual-Tar’s descending jaws, which close around him.
> 
> The others gasp in horror as the Chaos Serpent’s mouth hits the ground where Gareth stood and which, as it lifts slowly upwards, is now an empty space.




And this is just twisting that knife in the wound. Reading it brought a tear to my eye. Great writing shil.





shilsen said:


> There is a soft sound, that of the swift inrush of air into the space that the column had occupied for centuries. Jaela, Cedric and Gareth—likely the three most blessed worshippers of the faith on Khorvaire—all hear a tremendous scream in their minds, seemingly composed of a myriad voices crying out simultaneously in great agony, which instantly fades into dying whispers. And with it they feel their divine powers, whatever they might be, die away.




Another mighty blow.


Great story.  For everyone else - the fight was intense...we were on the edge of our seats for the hours of gameplay that this took.


----------



## carborundum

Wow - that was awesome! Those are some world-changing things happening there, and no mistake 

Link the following words to form two appropriate concepts; pear, shaped, poop, hit, fan


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Wow - that was awesome! Those are some world-changing things happening there, and no mistake




Yup, yup, yup. And the Angels have hardly finished changing Khorvaire. After taking a break for some months while we began the Kingmaker AP (just finished the first module) and I went back to India over the summer, we're planning for the finale to this campaign. I've been making some notes about what repercussions their actions/choices might end up having. Even if they do the absolute minimum that they could (and, seriously, when do Guardian Angels go for the minimum?), the face of Khorvaire and its future will be changed forever. I'm looking forward to finding out what they do.

Incidentally, I've set the Kingmaker campaign in Eberron starting just about a year after the Xoriat War (known more colloquially as the War of the Guardian Angels). So the final decisions the players/PCs make in this campaign's finale will have some serious effects on Kingmaker AP, in both flavor and content. I figure it gives us a sense of continuity and lets their PCs' actions have a concrete effect that they'll actually see in play, even when the campaign is over. 



> Link the following words to form two appropriate concepts; pear, shaped, poop, hit, fan


----------



## carborundum

That sounds like fun - Kingmaker is top of my list as well... the new Shiv AP is also looking like fun but I doubt I could persuade my players to do another jungle AP whenever we finish Savage Tide.

It'll be interesting to see how you fit certain Kingmaker aspects into Eberron 

And speaking of fitting your stuff into campaigns, my party is now on their way to Golismorga. Your emails will be bearing fruit in the next few months, and they've already divined the presence of floating orbs and cloaked humanoids. I can't wait!


----------



## carborundum

Back to the topic at hand... was it a surprise when the Chaos Serpent ate the Flame? Has Gareth lost his powers? Has Jaela? What sort of DR did that beast have anyway?

And who knew there was a super Rakshasa ninja inside the Flame all this time? Was that another Shilsen Special?


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> That sounds like fun - Kingmaker is top of my list as well... the new Shiv AP is also looking like fun but I doubt I could persuade my players to do another jungle AP whenever we finish Savage Tide.
> 
> It'll be interesting to see how you fit certain Kingmaker aspects into Eberron




So far I've had no trouble fitting Kingmaker into Eberron (I've set it in the Eldeen Reaches, next to the Aundairan border), but we've only dealt with the first module so far. It's a new experience for me anyway, since I've never run an AP (and have almost never used published modules at all) before this.



> And speaking of fitting your stuff into campaigns, my party is now on their way to Golismorga. Your emails will be bearing fruit in the next few months, and they've already divined the presence of floating orbs and cloaked humanoids. I can't wait!








carborundum said:


> Back to the topic at hand... was it a surprise when the Chaos Serpent ate the Flame?




Not really, since the PCs and NPCs were pretty certain that it was the Flame that was drawing it to Flamekeep. 



> Has Gareth lost his powers? Has Jaela?




I think the precise answer to those questions would be, "Not exactly"  You'll see in the next update.



> What sort of DR did that beast have anyway?




15/epic and byeshk. Which is why Gareth (whose sword now ignores any DR), Korm (with a unique sword specifically built for damaging aberrations) and Six (with the PCs' special enhancements making his weapon +4 enhancement and a bane enchantment pushing it up to +6) could all get through its DR.



> And who knew there was a super Rakshasa ninja inside the Flame all this time?




The Shadow in the Flame is part of Eberron lore, so a number of the players knew about it, but the PCs really didn't.



> Was that another Shilsen Special?




Always


----------



## Rackhir

AviLazar said:


> Nameless said:
> 
> 
> 
> 
> I wonder if Gareth would finally trust me if I died defending the Flame. No … no, he wouldn’t.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> We all know the answer to that query.
Click to expand...



I thought I did answer the question, was I wrong?



			
				Shilsen said:
			
		

> About the Daelkyr and the Silver flame




Shil I did have a question. Was my forcing Aunty into the Silver Flame something you had anticipated or did you just handle it on the fly?


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:


> Shil I did have a question. Was my forcing Aunty into the Silver Flame something you had anticipated or did you just handle it on the fly?




On the fly. I'm not kidding about the fact that I gave up anticipating what you guys do years ago. That way lay madness 

EDIT (adding a bit more): I've lost track of how many twists and turns in the campaign, as well as a few plot arcs (including some major ones) have come due to a sudden decision from an individual PC or the group as a whole. There have been a number of them which arose from someone taking stuff I threw in there as pure flavor and running with/after it, at which point I either ad-libbed like crazy and/or started actually developing (mechanically and otherwise) those elements. All of which, while meaning a lot more work for me, has been enjoyable as hell, because most of the time I've had only a limited idea of where exactly the PCs will take the game.


----------



## carborundum

carborundum said:
			
		

> ... was it a surprise when the Chaos Serpent ate the Flame?





			
				shilsen said:
			
		

> Not really, since the PCs and NPCs were pretty certain that it was the Flame that was drawing it to Flamekeep.




Sorry, I meant... was it a surprise when the Chaos Serpent actually succeeded in getting the Flame? I know that as a player I always assume we'll succeed by the skin of our teeth. Getting beaten to the punch like that...


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Sorry, I meant... was it a surprise when the Chaos Serpent actually succeeded in getting the Flame? I know that as a player I always assume we'll succeed by the skin of our teeth. Getting beaten to the punch like that...



Good question. I'm guessing it wasn't a _big_ surprise, since the PCs have encountered various forms of defeat earlier in the campaign, such as with Zagygyrag or the almost-TPK at the ziggurat. They have a PC go down to -10 or below on an average of one per two sessions. So I think they're usually prepared for the possibility that they might lose, especially when we're talking not TPKs but rather failing to prevent an enemy from reaching an objective. And particularly against something like Mual-Tar, which they had more than enough evidence was crazy powerful. The "we're going to die" comments in my post were made at the table, so I'm guessing they were considering the possibility.

But that's mostly my pontificating on the subject, and you'd get better answers from them. So, folks, were you surprised?


----------



## Furby076

We are typically surprised when we survive, even more so when we win. My annoyance was that we didn't stay focused on aunty...we have a hard time with focusing which typically causes us issues.

It was foretold to the keeper that the silver flame would be destroyed so we expected somethying...yes a tear came to my eye...its been the longest and best campaign in my 20 years of gaming


----------



## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> Sorry, I meant... was it a surprise when the Chaos Serpent actually succeeded in getting the Flame? I know that as a player I always assume we'll succeed by the skin of our teeth. Getting beaten to the punch like that...




Wasn't really a surprise, nothing we did seems to have done more than slightly annoy Mual-Tar. I mean we were hard pressed to handle just Aunty and only really managed to put him down thanks to my brainstorm. Given what we saw of it when Mual-Tar showed up, I have no idea how we could have possibly stopped it, even without having to tackle Aunty.

From what Shil has told us, magical barriers like Wall of Force or Prismatic Wall would not have had any effect, he just ignores magic like it doesn't exist. He can tunnel through solid rock faster than a dragon can fly, so wall of stone or something of that ilk would have been completely pointless. Water doesn't seem like it would have been any kind of a barrier either.

It's AC (45 IIRC) and it's DR meant that basically anyone other than Gareth and to a much lesser extent Korm, would be either completely negated or unable to even hit it. Six doesn't really inflict very much damage on average even if he was able to bypass it's DR. None of Luna's physical attacks would accomplish anything, since she has nothing to negate it's DR. Nameless was basically reduced to twiddling his thumbs verses it.

We're now 20th going into the final battle of the campaign and quite frankly I'm still pretty dubious. 

The big differences this time around seem likely to be Nameless will have access to Kha'tvan'ga in it's True Form, which is going to be pretty dammed impressive. We also have access to summoning Elemental Monoliths, the Earth variety in particular are capable of inflicting enough damage to overwhelm the DR and have a sufficiently high attack so as to be able to hit without much problem, even against a buffed AC for Mual-Tar. That will at least give Luna and Nameless something to do. The Monoliths and Kha'tvan'ga True Form are sufficiently large that they can't be easily swallowed at least.

Maybe Gareth, Korm and Six have picked up some new tricks they've been saving, but I haven't seen anything from them to indicate that their HTH firepower has dramatically ramped up.

And it's still going to be capable of nearly one shot kills on virtually any of the characters, with it's ability to strip our protections and swallow whole + negative energy levels. Given that Gareth is 75% of our melee firepower... this isn't encouraging to me.

Ultimately, it seems like it's going to come down to a question of simple brute force. We can't negotiate with it, there's nothing we can offer it that it would want and there doesn't seem to be anything in the way of tactics or tricks that would accomplish anything. It has no obvious weaknesses that I can think of other than an inability to fly, but that's not going to be relevant in the final fight. So it's basically going to come down to can we chuck enough damage it's way, before it devours us all.

But as I'm sure Shil will attest, I'm enough of a pessimist that I probably should have been born russian...



			
				AviLazar said:
			
		

> It was foretold to the keeper that the silver flame would be destroyed so we expected somethying...yes a tear came to my eye...its been the longest and best campaign in my 20 years of gaming




Jaela had told us several times that the silver flame (IIRC) had told her that she was coming to the end of her time as the Keeper of the Silver Flame.


----------



## shilsen

A few moments later, the Guardian Angels and their allies stand outside the far end of the tunnel that once led to the chamber of the Silver Flame, looking back to see the cloud of billowing dust expanding slowly within it, a result of the collapsing stone and rubble that they can still hear falling. A slightly shamefaced Prine rejoins them there, along with a number of the Cathedral’s defenders, most of them looking significantly worried, if not utterly shocked.

“What has happened?” one of them asks, her stunned voice not extending beyond a whisper, “I … I felt my connection with the Flame … die.” 

Others nod helplessly, clearly looking for reassurance to those who stand before them: the Champion of the Flame, a planetar, a dragon, the greatest heroes of Khorvaire, and, above all, the Keeper of the Flame.

But there is none to be had. Jaela replies, in a voice more wretched than any the Angels have heard her use before this moment, “The Flame is … gone.”

Soft moans of terror and a couple of whispered, “No!”s are all that answer her. A few of the people in the vicinity collapse to their knees. Some begin to pray or weep, sometimes simultaneously. One man begins to curse under his breath, softly but fiercely, over and over.

Jaela looks around—her face utterly forlorn, with the marks of tears still on it—no longer the Keeper of the Flame but only a little girl. For just a moment, those around her think that she will break down. But then her expression firms and her eyes flash with a light which, at least for the moment, explains to those watching precisely why this eleven-year old had been chosen by the Silver Flame to be its representative. 

“Quiet!” she says firmly. “This war is not over, nor is this battle. An army stands outside Flamekeep, which may still be a danger to us.” Jaela looks up at Cedric, her expression and tone calm, though her lips quiver faintly, “General – what do you intend to do now?”

The commander of Flamekeep’s forces looks down silently at Jaela for a long moment. His expression, which had been utterly stony moments earlier, softens and the look in his gray eyes momentarily seems like that of a father gazing proudly at his daughter. But when he speaks, there is only professional calm and respect in it. “I shall return to the battle and sweep the fields clean of the enemy horde.” Cedric looks up at those around him. “Anyone coming with me?”

Nameless and Luna are the first to respond, with the other Guardian Angels only a moment behind. After a quick discussion, Cedric takes the pair of them, along with Essirise and the planetar Samarien, leaving Six, Korm, Gareth and Prine to guard Jaela. “We shall return shortly,” he says, saluting Jaela, before the alienist _teleport_s them away.

Once they are gone, Jaela looks around and says, her tone still commanding and certain, “Come. Everyone! We need to make preparations and look to the wounded.” Then she turns and walks away, not even casting a glance behind her at the now-silent tunnel.

* * *
Hours later, most of those who were present at the dying of the Silver Flame have gathered again in a large meeting room, where Cedric reports on the conclusion of the battle.

“And you’re certain they are utterly vanquished?” Jaela asks.

“Absolutely,” says Cedric. “The wave the Angels created devastated their army enough, and they were still mostly trying to regroup when we arrived. And I had these two,” he indicates Nameless and Luna, “With me.” He smiles grimly. “It wasn’t pretty.”

“Good,” says Jaela, though her expression is, understandably, hardly a cheerful one. Then she falls silent, saying nothing more.

Gareth coughs politely to attract attention and, when the others turn to him, says, “I wish I’d never had to ask this question, but is the Flame … gone forever? And what is the meaning of this?” He points at the other Guardian Angels, who all—as he does—now have a faint silvery glow which extends about a foot from their bodies. Within the glowing aura, little pinpricks of deeper light constantly appear and disappear, like argent fireflies. “Though I …,” the paladin hesitates for a moment before continuing, clearly attempting to best formulate his words, “… did think I felt the Flame … pass away, now I still feel the presence of the Silver Flame in and around me. I attempted to _detect thoughts_ on this aura, mine and the others’, and I seem to be picking up a cloud of hundreds—or maybe thousands—of minds around each of us, but I cannot detect individual thoughts. It’s just like what I detected when I attempted the same thing on the Flame two days ago. And I pick up similar sensations near the two of you,” he indicates Jaela and Cedric, “But fainter and in a smaller amount … I think. What does it mean?”

There is similar uncertainty in Jaela’s face, but her voice is calm and collected when she speaks. “I don’t understand this much more than you do, but I know this much for a fact – the Flame is not completely gone.” She raises a hand at the murmur from a couple of her listeners, especially the pair of Cathedral priests also present in the room. “But I believe it shall never more manifest physically the way it did earlier. Now it lives within us,” her eyes sweep across the room and again, for a moment, she is the Keeper of the Flame, “In our hearts, in our deeds, and in our spirit. But,” she smiles softly and sadly, “I think it also lives a little more deeply in some of us. Something, or somewhat, of the Flame entered all of you …” 

Six mutters to Korm, as softly as his mechanical voice can, “I hope that doesn’t mean they’ll try to install us somewhere here to be worshipped,” causing the Gatekeeper to chuckle and nod his agreement.

Jaela ignores their byplay and continues, “…, as well as Cedric and me, when the Serpent … consumed it.I no longer have the same degree of power granted me by the Flame, but I do still retain some.”

“As do I,” says Cedric thoughtfully, “And it’s not just us. After we mopped up, I spoke to many of the priests, paladins, healers and others. Many of them have completely lost all abilities that the Flame gave them, whether to cast spells or for anything else. And others still retain some abilities, though always somewhat less than earlier. It seems completely random to me.” He shakes his head and shrugs.

“Maybe it’s something to do with being close to us, since we’re all Flame-y now,” suggests Luna. Then she rises to her feet and walks over to one of the Cathedral priests. As he looks at her warily, she leans against him, letting her aura wash over the man and says, “Try casting a spell now – there’s some Silver Flame in it!”

The unfortunate priest eyes Luna, opens his mouth, closes it again, and then looks beseechingly at Jaela. There’s a faint clanking sound and a soft “Ow!” as Gareth smacks himself in the face with a gauntleted hand, muffled laughter from Korm and a metallic chuckle from Six, before Nameless rasps, “Luna – please leave the poor man alone!”

“I was just trying to help!” Luna complains, as she heads back to her seat. “I’m glow-y all over, after all. It must mean something.”

Partly swallowing his laughter, Korm chuckles, “All over? I wonder if you glow on the inside of your mouth too.” 

“Oh yeah!” Luna replies with complete seriousness, “I checked. I’m glowing everywhere!” She enthusiastically points down to her crotch and says, “On the inside too!”

Korm’s eyes bulge for a moment and he quickly claps a hand to his mouth, muffling what sounds like a faint, strangely girlish scream. Then he looks at Nameless and says, “Can you cast _programmed amnesia_ and erase the last thirty seconds? Please!”

As more laughter erupts around the room, Jaela—who has been forced to smile at the interplay—says, “Very amusing, as usual, but we have other things to take care of too. Such as clearing the chamber of the Flame.”      

“I’ll help do it,” says Luna quickly. “You guys are all so dumb sometimes! And I want to take a nap where the Flame was, in case that helps.” 

 “I doubt it will,” says Nameless, “But I do want to go to the chamber. I’d like to see if Antaratma left anything behind when we destroyed it. I know he had a few powerful magical items, particularly a _ring of three wishes_. And, in general, I’m curious what actually happened there. And about the thing that emerged from the Flame.”

The Angels, Cedric and Jaela proceed towards the chamber, the former Keeper explaining as they walk about the Shadow in the Flame, the purported existence within the column of Silver Flame of the great rakshasa that the paladin Tira Miron died to bind, her sacrifice leading to the appearance of the Flame in Khorvaire. “It was a legend whispered by one or two old loremasters in the halls of Flamekeep,” she says, “And nobody really believed in it. But now I see that it—to some extent—was true. I wonder if the rakshasa survived the Serpent. As I’m sure you know,” she looks at Nameless, “The rakshasa rajahs cannot be destroyed, only bound. But this Mual-Tar has unusual powers, so …,” she shrugs. 

When they do reach the chamber and clear it of rubble, a process that is significantly sped up by the presence of the Guardian Angels and especially the huge elementals that some of them can summon, there is no sign of either rakshasa or Mual-Tar, nor of Antaratma’s remains or any items. All they find are the ruined bodies of the other creatures that died in the assault on the Flame. Among them is that of Jaela’s dragonhound Skaravojen, its corpse both crushed and actually in multiple pieces. 

Jaela looks silently down at the body of her faithful guardian for a few moments, her shoulders slumping, and then slowly kneels. A small, chocolate brown hand reaches out to gently stroke the mangled head. Then she sighs softly and looks up, eyes gleaming with unshed tears, and says simply, “He was a _good_ dog!”

Those around her remain silent for a moment too, uncertain how to respond, till Nameless says, “I’m sorry. If there is any way we can bring him back, we will do it.”

Jaela’s face pinches in slightly, the kind words clearly affecting her, but she controls herself and responds calmly, “I appreciate that. Very much! We’ll see.”

As she rises, Luna—now in the form of a huge bear—says enthusiastically, “I can try to _reincarnate_ him too, you know!”

Jaela purses her lips as she shakes her head. “I doubt that would work. Skaravojen is … was a unique creation of House Vadalis.”

“Yeah, but at least I can try,” Luna insists. Then she stretches, waving gigantic paws above everyone around her, and yawns prodigiously. “I’m tired! It’s been a damn busy day. I flew for soooo long!”

“I’m feeling a little tired too,” says Korm, stretching as well. Then he frowns slightly, rubbing his forehead. “More than I should.”

As the Gatekeeper looks around for confirmation, Nameless and Gareth nod as well, but the ultimate corroboration comes from Six. “I had not mentioned anything,” the warforged says dispassionately, “But I feel fatigue. I am not supposed to feel fatigue.”

If that didn’t confirm that something very strange is occurring, the following sound does. In the space of a few seconds, Luna has curled up right next to the circle that had marked the position of the Silver Flame, and is already asleep. Nameless looks at her, shakes his head, and says, “I suggest having someone nearby with food and water for her. She wakes up cranky!”

Cedric mock-shivers at the words and says, “I’ll see to it.” Then he glances at Gareth and Korm, both of whom are yawning hugely, and adds, “You need rooms?” As the alienist nods, Jaela says, “I’ll arrange for it. Get some rest. You’ve earned it. When you awake, we … will have a lot of work.”

“There’s something very odd,” Nameless says, a few moments later, as the Angels are walking away, feeling his eyes beginning to shut. “This is clearly _not_ natural.”

“_We_ are clearly not natural,” Korm chuckles, but the Gatekeeper’s droopy eyelids and shambling gait make it clear he is feeling the same thing too.

Not that there’s any real discussion of the subject. Barely five minutes later, Nameless, Korm and Gareth lie in a comfortable suite in the Cathedral, all fast asleep where they hit the beds, not one of them having changed their clothing. A much more unusual sight may be found in the corner of the room, where Six sits, his metal head lolling against the wall, just as deeply in the grip of slumber as the others. And, though nobody is present to realize it, if one were to listen very, very carefully at Gareth’s metal hand, one might hear the faintest of snores emanating from it. Even the Endless Blade is asleep. 

* * *
When Luna eventually awakes, it is to find a pair of warforged watching patiently over her, albeit from a safe distance, with a cask of water and half a dozen plates of food placed nearby. She wipes groggily at her eyes with giant paws and then growls, “Whoof – I feel like I slept for a long while! And something feels, um … different. How long was I asleep?”

“Thirty hours,” one of the warforged responds.

“What?! Why didn’t any of you wake me?” The giant bear lurches to its four feet and then Luna looks down at herself curiously. “Something’s really ….”

A few moments later, the door to the chamber in which the other Guardian Angels were sleeping smashes right off its hinges and to the ground, as Luna barrels through it. “Guys! GUYS!! Guess what happened to me …”

“We know,” says Nameless dryly. “It’s happened to all of us. Again!”


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> Wasn't really a surprise, nothing we did seems to have done more than slightly annoy Mual-Tar. I mean we were hard pressed to handle just Aunty and only really managed to put him down thanks to my brainstorm. Given what we saw of it when Mual-Tar showed up, I have no idea how we could have possibly stopped it, even without having to tackle Aunty.




I think one on one we have a good chance, but we have to work fast, and as a team. Luna/Six can't hurt mual-tar so their job would be to heal. Korm/Gareth since those two can hurt mual-tar.  Hell it would be slow, but if Korm/Luna healed Gareth (e.g. ready action, heal), Six buffed the group constantly, and since Nameless can't hurt mual-tar either so his job would be to constantly rebuff and maybe throw up distractions.

In our years of playing we don't seem to like to work as a team - everyone wants to do damage and not everyone can do damage all the time. If we treated this more like a WoW raid we would do so much better. Playing to our strengths has always been a weak spot with us. I remember quite a few times where Gareth was worthless in combat and had to stand aside for those who could do area damage spells - not as fun as wading into battle, but no biggy.



Rackhir said:


> Maybe Gareth, Korm and Six have picked up some new tricks they've been saving, but I haven't seen anything from them to indicate that their HTH firepower has dramatically ramped up.




Other then the new stuff shil mentioned the other day (after you made this post) Gareth has nothing new except a 7th level spell. He will probably try and do a buff.



Rackhir said:


> And it's still going to be capable of nearly one shot kills on virtually any of the characters, with it's ability to strip our protections and swallow whole + negative energy levels. Given that Gareth is 75% of our melee firepower... this isn't encouraging to me.




Ready action, HEAL 



Rackhir said:


> But as I'm sure Shil will attest, I'm enough of a pessimist that I probably should have been born russian...



Have faith my brotha! (Coming from the paladin) 





Rackhir said:


> Jaela had told us several times that the silver flame (IIRC) had told her that she was coming to the end of her time as the Keeper of the Silver Flame.




I believe it also told her the flame would be destroyed.  I remember having this quandry...maybe Gareth dreamed it at one point  - Shil can remember for us 




shilsen said:


> “Though I …,” the paladin hesitates for a moment before continuing, clearly attempting to best formulate his words, “… did think I felt the Flame … pass away, now I still feel the presence of the Silver Flame in and around me. I attempted to _detect thoughts_ on this aura, mine and the others’, an




This is so my chance to position Gareth as a God 



shilsen said:


> A few moments later, the door to the chamber in which the other Guardian Angels were sleeping smashes right off its hinges and to the ground, as Luna barrels through it. “Guys! GUYS!! Guess what happened to me …”
> 
> “We know,” says Nameless dryly. “It’s happened to all of us. Again!”




I so wish I remember what happened here


----------



## carborundum

Aaaaaaahhh!!!

What? What? What? What? What?


----------



## Rackhir

AviLazar said:


> I think one on one we have a good chance, but we have to work fast, and as a team. Luna/Six can't hurt mual-tar so their job would be to heal. Korm/Gareth since those two can hurt mual-tar.  Hell it would be slow, but if Korm/Luna healed Gareth (e.g. ready action, heal), Six buffed the group constantly, and since Nameless can't hurt mual-tar either so his job would be to constantly rebuff and maybe throw up distractions.
> 
> In our years of playing we don't seem to like to work as a team - everyone wants to do damage and not everyone can do damage all the time. If we treated this more like a WoW raid we would do so much better. Playing to our strengths has always been a weak spot with us. I remember quite a few times where Gareth was worthless in combat and had to stand aside for those who could do area damage spells - not as fun as wading into battle, but no biggy.




I'm so glad to hear you're volunteering to run the cleric we desperately need in the Kingmaker campaign.

Funny though, on those occasions I remember Gareth charging into melee with the blackscales and such. Not much healing of anyone else going on that I recall from Gareth.



AviLazar said:


> I so wish I remember what happened here




This is down more to how Shil is describing things than any real mystery in what's happening.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> I'm so glad to hear you're volunteering to run the cleric we desperately need in the Kingmaker campaign.
> 
> Funny though, on those occasions I remember Gareth charging into melee with the blackscales and such. Not much healing of anyone else going on that I recall from Gareth.




Gareth is also a cleric, I decided to go a different route.  Hence the wizard. I had six years of divine magic and sword power...rogue/wizard is definitely going the opposite route.

Nameless has had his fair share of charging in. So did Korm, so did Luna. The only person in the group who can pull a holier then thou argument is Six. I remember a number of times Gareth charged in after someone to offer them backup...the blackscales were another of Shil's specials.


----------



## Furby076

In preparation for the final battle I wanted to highlight Gareth's stat block after buffs:

Gareth Stats with buffs:
*HP* =263  || 226 normal, +20 Righteous Might, +17 Divine Power
*Atk* = 36   || 29 normal, +3 Divine Favor, +2 Divine Power, +2 Righteous Might
*Initiative* = +12 || 3 Normal, +4 Sign,+4 Imp Initiative
*Dmg* = 3d6+21 +1d6F+4d6H+1d6S+1d6C || 2d6+16 normal, +3 Divine Favor, +2 Righteous Might, Large 3d6
*AC *= 42 || 40 Normal, +3 Recitation, -1 Size Large
*Saves*
*F39* || 34 Normal, +3 Recitation
*R31* || 26 Normal, +3 Recitation
*W38* || 33 Normal, +3 Recitation

*Divine Might* +8 Dmg
*Smite +8/+40  * || Normal +8/20, but these guys are evil so they can suck it 


Mind Blank
Life's Grace
Stone Body
FOM
Divine Favor (Q)
Death Ward
Sheltered Vitality
Recitation
Divine Power
Fell the Greatest Foe (How many size categories from Large to Maul Tar? That's +1d6dmg per category)
Sign (Q)
Righteous Might

On a good note with smite Gareth only misses on a roll of a 1. On a bad note these guys only miss on a roll of a 1.
The nice thing about Stone body is that Nameless is memorizing Flesh to Stone which provides a way for him to heal gareth...in addition to those who can normally cast heal spells.


----------



## Rackhir

AviLazar said:


> Gareth is also a cleric, I decided to go a different route.  Hence the wizard. I had six years of divine magic and sword power...rogue/wizard is definitely going the opposite route.




What? You don't feel healing someone other than yourself would have been a sufficient change?



AviLazar said:


> Nameless has had his fair share of charging in.




Such as?



AviLazar said:


> So did Korm, so did Luna. The only person in the group who can pull a holier then thou argument is Six. I remember a number of times Gareth charged in after someone to offer them backup...the blackscales were another of Shil's specials.




I wasn't the one criticizing people for not doing something I was unwilling to do. Would things work better if we were a well organized tightly controlled group, yeah. But, that would be a completely different group. 

Nobody has been stopping you from making suggestions during combat or trying to develop a plan of action.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> What? You don't feel healing someone other than yourself would have been a sufficient change?




Up until Gareth just got heal it wasn't worth it for him to heal anyone, including himself (hence why it rarely ever happened). Or would you prefer Gareth cast a cure critical instead of dishing out 150 dmg...being the one person in the group who can consistantly bypass most, if not all, DR.
BTW my new character, the wizard, uses a CLW wand to heal group members.





Rackhir said:


> Such as?



Years ago, taking the stone, and charging into the light hoping it would take care of our first instance of the daelkyr lord. Kind of risky.





Rackhir said:


> I wasn't the one criticizing people for not doing something I was unwilling to do. Would things work better if we were a well organized tightly controlled group, yeah. But, that would be a completely different group.



No, you never criticize anyone. As for working in a coordinated effort, I follow your commands plenty often. Be thankful Gareth moves ahead of nameless into a battle...the other way around wouldn't be so fun for Nameless.



Rackhir said:


> Nobody has been stopping you from making suggestions during combat or trying to develop a plan of action.




I know you like to act as if you are the only one making such suggestions, but really you aren't.


----------



## Rackhir

AviLazar said:


> Up until Gareth just got heal it wasn't worth it for him to heal anyone, including himself (hence why it rarely ever happened). Or would you prefer Gareth cast a cure critical instead of dishing out 150 dmg...being the one person in the group who can consistantly bypass most, if not all, DR.
> BTW my new character, the wizard, uses a CLW wand to heal group members.




There was a very long time before ANYONE in the group had heal, Gareth wasn't doing much healing back then either. Even when he was nearly as good as Luna and Gareth wasn't that much worse than them given that Druids get most healing spells a level behind clerics.

When was the last time you reserved an action to counterspell or interrupt a casting? Those you certainly could have been doing and Gareth has just as good a caster level as most of the guys we go up against. Stopping some of those spells people have tossed as us, that hurt the ENTIRE GROUP would have been just as important as putting the hurt on a SINGLE target.



AviLazar said:


> Years ago, taking the stone, and charging into the light hoping it would take care of our first instance of the daelkyr lord. Kind of risky.




That's called putting your ass on the line to achieve an important objective. We needed the shard to take him down and letting him get his hands on it, would have been... very, very, very bad. Though he was "just" a Daelkyr, not a Daelkyr Lord.

If you wanted a good example of Nameless doing something stupid like Gareth's done, I'd have brought up the time when Nameless kicked open the door and took on Erma and her friends when they attacked us in the Grey House, which lead directly to getting himself killed and unleashing Xoriat on Eberron, but hey that's just my opinion.



AviLazar said:


> No, you never criticize anyone. As for working in a coordinated effort, I follow your commands plenty often. Be thankful Gareth moves ahead of nameless into a battle...the other way around wouldn't be so fun for Nameless.




I try not to criticize people for something I am unwilling to do. Your criticism about nobody wanting to do the dull healing and support functions is perfectly valid, but I don't recall you ever volunteering to do boring unexciting things instead of the flashy action stuff. 

THAT'S what I find annoying. We've ALL always got an excuse or something else "really important" that we need to do during a round.

Tell you what, you let Nameless go ahead of you in battle and I'll let Gareth haul the group around from one side of the planet to the other, decipher bits of obscure arcane lore and you can even kill the next army we go up against. You know, one guy at a time, since Gareth has virtually no AOE capability.



AviLazar said:


> I know you like to act as if you are the only one making such suggestions, but really you aren't.




I have invested a LOT more time in planning and trying to figure out what we might be facing than anyone else (other than Shil obviously) and you don't see a lot of what I do (not that it ever seems to do us any good mind you). But can you remind me what the last plan Korm, Luna or Six came up with was...? It seems to have slipped my mind.

You have actually made an effort to contribute to planning on occasion and I do give you credit for that, but Korm, Luna and Six's contributions in this area is virtually non-existent and if I don't put forth an effort in this area pretty much nobody else does. Despite my BEGGING the rest of the group to try and help out in this area on a number of occasions. As I've told Six on a couple of occasions "Don't just tell me I'm doing things wrong. Tell me what I OUGHT to be doing instead."

If YOU take the lead and set the example, then feel free to complain to your heart's content about how people are not working together and I will be right there cheering you on and happily taking instruction.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> There was a very long time before ANYONE in the group had heal, Gareth wasn't doing much healing back then either. Even when he was nearly as good as Luna.



Really? Nearly as good as Luna or Korm? Gareth's healing capabilities were never as good as the rest of the group. Maybe at level 2.  Right now Gareth is a 14th level caster, with practiced spell caster to be 17. Back when the best healers in the group could do cure critical Gareth could not.  And again the math was as simple then as it is now - Gareth doing damage and someone else healing made way more sense then the other way around since nobody in the group could come close to Gareth in terms of attack rate and damage rate. Even now the only person in the group who can come to out-damage Gareth is Nameless but that has only been in recent levels (as wizards become really powerful in that aspect at the highest levels).  Gareth still has consistency and the ability to inflict consistent damage on all but flying targets.




Rackhir said:


> When was the last time you reserved an action to counterspell or interrupt a casting? Those you certainly could have been doing and Gareth has just as good a caster level as most of the guys we go up against. Stopping some of those spells people have tossed as us, that hurt the ENTIRE GROUP would have been just as important as putting the hurt on a SINGLE target.




How do you think Gareth has as good a caster level as the enemies we fight? Gareth is a 14th level caster, with practice spell caster. At level 20 his DC is 10+4 (wisdom) + spell level...Which of Shil's creatures are going to fail that save? Gareth could run up to a spellcaster & hold his attack, but then the creature would take a 5 foot step & cast his spell.  How would that help the group? As for counter spelling...again you want the guy with a caster level that is vastly smaller then the group to try and go against a spellcaster that is at the groups level or better?



Rackhir said:


> That's called putting your ass on the line to achieve an important objective. We needed the shard to take him down and letting him get his hands on it, would have been... very, very, very bad. Though he was "just" a Daelkyr, not a Daelkyr Lord.




That's called taking a guess and wanting to showboat. Oh and it's not 'just a Daelkyr'....more like 'just a Shil Daelkyr'  Gareth puts his butt on the line many times. BTW - before you mock Gareth for charging into battle remember three things 1) he is a melee character it's what they do, 2) he's held off plenty of times at your request, and 3) Grabthar, your melee guy, charged into battle instead of going to my wizard who was going to CLW him....then grabthar got dropped.  Welcome to the world of melee - we have t-shirts made up "I run, I hit, I fall down"



Rackhir said:


> I try not to criticize people for something I am unwilling to do. Your criticism about nobody wanting to do the dull healing and support functions is perfectly valid, but I don't recall you ever volunteering to do boring unexciting things instead of the flashy action stuff.




Each person has their own roles in the group.  I don't think healing is dull/boring -but I agree it is not flashy. Being able to keep someone up is important.  Then again I wouldn't expect Nameless to run up and smack someone with his dagger just because he can do it...that would be left to the melee group.  I wouldn't expect Nameless to utilize UMD with a CLW wand...that would be better left to the best healers of the group.  You would expect me to do something which Gareth is subpar at doing all in the name of "criticize people for something I am unwilling to do"? What's the point? We have specialists in the group and you are asking your specialists to do stuff other then what they are amazing at?


Gareth = most consistent, and highest damaging character in the group. Gareth will only miss Aunty and Maul Tar on a roll of a 1.
Nameless = highest damaging and second most consistently hitting character in the group (Gareths attack rate is better then Nameless DC)
Korm = High damage dealer with poor hit rate, but the best healing in the group. He has poor AC, not that it will matter much in this battle.
Luna = Damage sponge, with best healing in the group (and at range), and great damage spells. Only now with the elemental monolith can she start to deal great damage, but nowhere near the levels of Korm, Nameless or Gareth
Six = most mobile, highest AC, and most versatile character in the group - but doesn't excel at damage and can't heal (sans UMD). Great at buffing, and unless it is a crazy creature/scenario his tripping is so very nice.

That's our group. You really want one of the two best damage dealers focusing on healing?



Rackhir said:


> THAT'S what I find annoying. We've ALL always got an excuse or something else "really important" that we need to do during a round.




Gareth can do one thing really well...melee damage, followed by resisting spells/effects, followed by hopefully taking the hits and being able to stand to get a heal so he can do it again next round. When Gareth does 150 dmg in a round it gains a lot of attention - the enemies try and take Gareth down and fast.  The group can let Gareth go down, and then they lose the biggest gun. There have been a number of times Gareth went down and you sighed somewhere along the lines of "we are dead".



Rackhir said:


> Tell you what, you let Nameless go ahead of you in battle and I'll let Gareth haul the group around from one side of the planet to the other, decipher bits of obscure arcane lore and you can even kill the next army we go up against. You know, one guy at a time, since Gareth has virtually no AOE capability.




Exactly my point. Gareth is not a primary spellcaster...his spellcasting is good for buffing. I've had six years of practice with Gareth, and anytime I e-mailed Shil "what about this offensive spell" it was followed by Shil saying "stick to your melee, your DCs blow"...and he was right. I wanted to use the fun spells but don't because Gareth sucks at them.  Gareth now has Holy Word...which would you prefer Gareth do this weekend.  Holy word with his DC 21 save against aunty/maul tar, or would you prefer Gareth swing the Endless Blade? I'll let you make that call.

Gareth can do other things - he can cast damaging spells - and he does it poorly. He can, only recently, cast heal - but not as good as Luna/Korms. Plus if he heals the group loses out on massive damage output and Shil's monsters typically do more damage then Gareth can Heal. Gareth can also use planar travel spells, but the cleric version is terrible compared to greater teleport.  As before, each character has their focus - Gareth's is not to heal.  That's like me complaining that your Barbarian doesn't use UMD and CLW wand to heal the new campaign group.




Rackhir said:


> I have invested a LOT more time in planning and trying to figure out what we might be facing than anyone else and you don't see a lot of what I do (not that it ever seems to do us any good mind you). But can you remind me what the last plan Korm, Luna or Six came up with was...? It seems to have slipped my mind.




I never said you don't plan, but you sure don't do it alone.  Six comes up with lots of plans but we typically shy away from them because they are very defensive.  Luna comes up with insane plans that even the forces of Xoriat have a brain fart over.  Korm doesn't believe in plans - he just likes to swing at things. My goal is for us to have a plan for this final battle instead of just charging in. You have great ideas, so do I...wouldn't it be nice if we coordinated those ideas beforehand so both of us get to try them out?  Instead of a last minute bark...also, instead of hoping someone might heal a group member have someone designated for when that need arises? Nobody wants to be down and out in any battle, especially the climax of this fun campaign.

Anyhow at some point we should take this private or stop because we are starting to scare the children.


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:


> Anyhow at some point we should take this private or stop because we are starting to scare the children.




Yup! I'd appreciate it if both of you took any arguing you have to do to email.


----------



## Rackhir

So Shil, WAS there some way we could conceivably have stopped Mual-Tar from destroying the flame?

We did have the final session of the campaign this weekend and let's just say everyone proved to be very, very, true to their nature.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:


> So Shil, WAS there some way we could conceivably have stopped Mual-Tar from destroying the flame?




As is usually the case, I really have no idea, but I'd say the chances were very slim.



> We did have the final session of the campaign this weekend and let's just say everyone proved to be very, very, true to their nature.






Good description. 

And now...

* * * * *

“What?!” says Luna, simultaneously confused and disappointed. “I thought the Flame did something to me since I slept next to it … where it was!”

Nameless shakes his head. “No. I believe, however, that the Flame does have something to do with the changes. When part of it flowed into us upon the Flame’s destruction, it changed us. The change took time to manifest, and the process of doing so was what exhausted us. Otherwise,” he glances at Six, “I can’t see why you would actually have slept.

“True,” says the warforged, calmly as ever, though with a faint undertone of disquiet to his mechanical tone. “That is not supposed to happen. And I have no wish to repeat the sensation. Sleep is … odd.”

Ignoring him, Luna continues, “Wait – so you guys have got more powerful too? You can cast spells of …”

“…the ninth valence*,” completes Korm, with a broad smile. 

“And, speaking of which …,” says Nameless, “Just a minute, Luna. There’s something of vital importance I have to do first.”

“But …”

“No, Luna,” says the alienist firmly, “I have been waiting to do this since I first arrived in Sharn. Ah, here’s that coffee I ordered.” He waves at the pair of scared-looking orderlies making their way into the chamber, motioning for them to deposit the trays they carry on a nearby table. The two men do so and swiftly rush off.

When they do, Nameless smiles in anticipation and speaks a word of power, before striking his staff on the ground. “I compel,” he says loudly, “That snotty kid who sells them near Trillia Lelleir’s home to come here and bring me the morning edition of the Sharn Inquirer.” 

An instant later, a fiery ring appears before the alienist, framing what appears to be a young boy carrying a rolled newspaper. As the ring disappears, he looks around carefully and then, seeming remarkably unfazed, walks up to Nameless. Extending the paper, he says, “That’ll be 2 silvers, sir.”

The mage flips him a gold piece, which the newsboy snatches out of the air with a broad smile, and then says, “Return!” The ring of flame reappears around the boy and contracts into nothingness, taking him with it.

Whereupon Nameless sits down, flips open the paper, and takes a sip from his coffee. Before looking up at his companions with a tiny smirk. “Continue.”

“You,” Gareth says quietly, “Just … _gate_d in a newspaper?”

“I always said that when I can personally obtain a Sharn newspaper in utter safety, I’d know we’d become truly powerful,” says Nameless, his expression deadpan. “I wasn’t joking.”

Korm chuckles at the little show and then addresses Luna again. “See! And we can do a few other things too.” The Gatekeeper draws his meteoric sword with a flourish. Though the blade remains as dark as ever, there is just the faintest tinge of red to it, with an additional gleam along the edge. “Some of our belongings have been affected as well.”

Luna sadly paws at herself, before recalling that most of her possessions melded with her when she changed shape. “Aww – I don’t think anything of mine changed!” She gazes at Korm jealously and grunts, “So what does that little sword of yours do now?”

“It mostly works even better against aberrations now,” replies the Gatekeeper, but then a mischievous look appears in his eyes. “But,” he begins, walking towards Luna, “It also lets me do this….”

The giant bear eyes him suspiciously. “What? What does it let you … hey, what are you doing?!” Korm reaches out, eyes beginning to gleam with combined amusement and energy, and wraps his arms (one hand still holding the sword) around Luna’s left foreleg. The Gatekeeper grunts and the already large muscles on his arms leap out at the strain.

“You’re crazy,” scoffs Gareth, watching the display from across the room. “Power or no power, you can’t move …” 

And then the paladin falls silent as Korm slowly, but inexorably, begins to move forward, pulling the huge bear across the floor of the chamber behind him.** 

“Flame protect us!” the paladin swears, “That’s amazing! She must weigh close to ten thousand pounds!”

“More,” opines Nameless. “A normal dire bear would weigh about eight thousand, and Luna is substantially fatt…”***

“Shut it – or die!” snaps Luna before the alienist can complete the sentence. “And you,” she growls, looking down at the Gatekeeper who is still slowly moving her, “Quit showing off!” Having said which, without giving poor Korm a chance to respond, Luna simply rolls over, causing him to disappear under her.

Six, unable to roll his mechanical eyes, settles for shaking his head. “That might damage him, you know.”

“Nah!” grumbles Luna, “He’ll be fine. And that was rude!” Ignoring the muffled sounds emanating from under her, she continues, her tone turns more positive and enthusiastic, “But he’s not the only one with spiffy abilities. My ability to wildshape has become _much_ better. And to turn into elementals too! See?”

There is a faint whooshing sound and the dire bear disappears, its shape warping and folding in on itself in a stomach-churning display, which momentarily reveals a supine Korm on the floor of the chamber below her. Who is instantly hidden from view again by a huge, very roughly humanoid and brightly flaming shape.

There is a loud scream of surprise and pain from beneath the huge fire elemental that Luna has transformed into, causing her to shift sideways. Korm springs to his feet, still yelling, “Aaaaah! Hot, hot, HOT!” The Gatekeeper takes a hurried step backwards and away from Luna, looking down at himself, and then pauses. “Wait a sec – I’m not actually burned!”

“Yeah … whiner!” mutters the elemental, before ejaculating “Hey!” as Korm reaches out and gingerly prods her with a finger. And then keeps it pressed against her for a second, before pulling it away and stepping out of the way of a peevish swat from Luna. Ignoring it, he shows his finger to the others, “See? No burns, though I was just beginning to get scorched. We’re fireproof – a little.”

“Bah! I’m fireproof too – a lot!” says Luna, waving what looks like a thick plume of flame at herself, before continuing excitedly, “And that’s the coolest thing – I’m totally an elemental! I mean, I could be an elemental earlier too, but when I changed into one it wasn’t complete. Like I had a fiery shell, but inside I had organs and things. Now,” she again waves excitedly at herself, “I don’t have any! No weak points where an enemy can hit me. And I’m not breathing either! This is _so_ cool!”**** Luna chortles excitedly and then looks at the other three members of the Guardian Angels. “So – what happened to you guys?”

Gareth, who has been grinning at the byplay between the two druids, replies, “I can’t show you exactly what’s changed in my case without an evil creature here to fight. To put it simply, I can do a few special things when I’m in battle against evil foes.” He smiles in anticipation. “Especially when I’m smiting them. And as for my sword ….” He activates his magical metal hand and the Endless Blade appears instantly.

And crows loudly, “I’m a f*cking _holy avenger_, baby!”

The paladin rolls his eyes at the sword’s speech, but that clearly has no effect, as it continues, speaking rapidly and with growing excitement, “When I fell asleep or whatever it is that happened, I was like – what the f*ck? I mean, I’m a sword! A sentient magic sword! That is _not_ supposed to happen! But then when I woke up, I could feel that something had changed. Big-time! I’m a holy avenger! I mean, I’m a _unique_ holy avenger! If you’re evil, I will f*ck your shi….”

The voice disappears in mid-word as Gareth mentally commands it back into his hand. The paladin sighs and shakes his head, before shrugging. “Well, it’s mostly me and the sword having changed.” *****

“Yeah, okay – cool,” says Luna, and though her elemental form has no expression to show her thoughts, the druid’s expressive voice indicates that she’s a little disappointed and underwhelmed with the explanation and lack of display. Turning to Six, she asks hopefully, “What about you? Did your spiked chain change?”

The warforged shakes his head mechanically from where he sits. “No. Probably because it is not a unique weapon like Korm’s or Gareth’s. The main change is in here,” he taps the magical harness that is set into his artificial form. “And what I can do with it.” 

The warforged makes no motion to move, even when Luna says, “And ….?” Nameless smiles slightly and rasps, “Just show her, Six – or you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Very well.” Six rises smoothly to his feet, knees straightening to raise him without any other part of his mechanical body moving at all. Then he stands and gazes at Luna for a moment … and changes. Rivulets of thick shadow flow swiftly out of the harness, seemingly thicker and more tangible than those which the other Angels have seen emerge on earlier occasions when Six used it. They spread swiftly across the surface of his entire body, till he seems to be covered in an umbral liquid. Which then appears to harden in an instant, causing Six’s form to seemingly be sheathed from head to toe in a dark grayish-black metal covering. 

“Cool!” says Luna, “What does it do?”

This time, Six’s mechanical voice does sound faintly amused as he responds by turning to Korm, his movements apparently not incommoded in any way by this new layer of protection, and saying, “Hit me with a _horrid wilting_, please.”

The Gatekeeper eyes Six dubiously. “You sure?”

“Yes,” the warforged responds, causing Korm to shrug and cast his spell. There is, as far as those around can see, absolutely no effect. Korm whistles softly and says, “Very nice!” 

“It seems so,” Six says. “I believe this form, in which I am completely a construct, allows me to ignore certain things. Such as mind-affecting effects, just like your _mind blank_ does, and many things which affect my form. And when I am affected….” The warforged turns his attention to Nameless. “Can you use a _magic missile_ spell on me? At full power please.”

The alienist lifts a quizzical eyebrow. “This will hurt a bit, you know? The spell does affect constructs.”

“I know. But I’ll be safe. Go ahead.” Nameless shrugs and complies, and when the bolts of magic strike Six in the side, a little portion of his mechanical body does buckle, revealing internal components and causing drops of gray fluid to drip from the wound.

The warforged takes the effect stoically and then visibly concentrates. Immediately, the newly formed armoring on his body transforms back into the fluid shadows, which flow into the wound. In an instant, they are gone, leaving behind Six’s normal form, only now completely undamaged.******

“Beautiful!” says Luna, clapping her giant fiery hands loudly.

Six bows and sinks back down against the wall again, causing Gareth to chuckle and say, “You’re showing off!”

“Marginally,” replies the warforged calmly, albeit with an amused undertone to his voice.

“So,” says Luna, focusing now on Nameless, who is studying Six with a thoughtful expression, “What about you? You’ve got to have something new too. Xoriat-flavored underwear?”

As the druid guffaws at her own witticism, Nameless says dryly, “Not quite. But Xoriat-flavored, yes.” He doesn’t bother to rise, simply sitting where he is and calling forth the power of his Aspect, which causes Nameless’ body and features to warp as usual. And then he speaks a single long word, one which none of the others have heard him use earlier or recognize. Nor could any of them replicate its tongue-twisting accents, but even so each of them can feel the power with which it is imbued.

There is a faint tearing sound from the alienist’s vicinity, and those nearby feel a momentary, faint breeze flowing towards him from all directions, as if a small portion of the air surrounding him had been displaced. The source of this displacement is instantly evident, as a shimmering field of energy appears around his chest and upper arms, extending only an inch or two from him like a thick vestment made of pure magic. The arcane vestment constantly shifts and changes, patches of multifarious colors flowing back and forth across the eldritch field, shifting in size and shade as they constantly move, meet, merge and disintegrate.

 Korm studies the magical armor curiously and then hazards a guess. “You can summon a _prismatic sphere_ as a form of armor?”

“No,” Nameless corrects, “I can summon _Xoriat_ as armor.******* A _prismatic sphere_ is a dweomer of the ninth valence, the pinnacle of mortal spellcasting, what one of _you_, if you were an arcanist, could potentially do. This,” he smirks, “Is beyond that. Beyond what _any_ arcanist on Khorvaire can accomplish.”

And then, seeing Luna move, he hurriedly adds, “No – you may _not_ touch it! I can’t control what it will do to you, and some of it would not be pretty.”

The giant fire elemental stops and mutters, “Spoilsport!” Then, mercurially shifting focus and attitude, she looks around at her friends and asks hopefully, “Well, all that is fun and all, but is there anything else we can do? Did anyone get a dragonmark so we can pilot an airship?”

“No,” says Gareth, rolling his eyes, “When the Silver Flame _died_ and its remnants entered us, it did not consider it important to make us better at flying airships.” Ignoring the rude gesture this elicits from the elemental, he continues, “But we were just discussing this before you barged in. It seems we are linked in some ways due to the energy within us. For example, we can sense each other’s presence and….”

“Really?” Before the paladin can finish, the fire elemental interrupts excitedly and then closes its flaming eyes, hunching slightly in concentration. To Luna’s delight, she quickly realizes that Gareth is correct. Even with her eyes closed, she can feel the presence of the others, sensing them as one might the warmth of a fireplace in the same room. It is, she thinks, as if each of them is full of energy, radiating a form of heat which one notices as soon as one concentrates on it.

As she opens her eyes, Nameless comments, “And here’s the fascinating part – I cast a _mind blank_ on myself as soon as I awoke. You can sense me through it. So this … link actually supersedes that protection. Normally,” he continues, his tone now indicating that he’s mostly just talking aloud to himself, “That spell protects against any information-gathering magic including that by actual divinity. That might explain what’s going on here, since the link between us is presumably comprised of elements of the Silver Flame, which was theoretically divine.”

“What do you mean _theoretically_ divine? It…,” begins Gareth, frowning, but he is once more interrupted.

Six, whose mechanical eyes have dimmed slightly as he too was concentrating on the link, says, “Everyone – can you detect something besides us? Because I can.”

The others quickly turn their attention to the link, each focusing on it, and within a few moments they realize what Six is talking about. Concentration on the link initially reveals only the five sources of energy nearby, namely the five members of the Guardian Angels. As one concentrates longer, one becomes aware of the precise positioning of each of the others, including direction and distance. And then, finally, after nearly a minute, a sixth source of energy becomes evident. Once aware of it the Angels realize that it is far stronger than the energy in each of them—or all of them combined, for that matter—as it burns brightly, far from where they stand in Flamekeep, like a tiny beacon seen flaming on a distant mountain-top which betokens a huge fire. 

“Is that what I think it is?” queries Six, when all of the Angels have noticed what he first had.

“Yes,” says Nameless, with certainty, “It is Mual-Tar. And,” he calculates swiftly, noting the distance and the direction, “It is definitely within the Mournland. Which is also a place from which we could not gain information. This will require further … investigation.”

“Cool!” says Luna, having a drastically different response to the information than her companions. Gareth, conversely, says, “I don’t know about that. Especially since I’m now wondering whether the Serpent can sense us.”

“If we can sense it, I’m quite certain it can sense us,” says Nameless. “But we’ll have to confirm that. Destroying it is definitely next on the agenda. Especially since it now seems to be full of energy from the Silver Flame.”

“Cool!” Luna repeats, before querying, “But maybe we should find a way to bottle these souls? Because if we can store them, once we kill the snake maybe we can grab all the souls it took and … I dunno, do something with them?”

Nameless opens his mouth, rethinks what he was going to say, and settles for a vague, “I’ll see what I can do about that.” Then, at least partly to forestall what Luna might ask next, he says, “But now I think we need to learn a little more about this link between us. And then we can go tell Jaela what occurred. First, let’s try …”




* The PCs went to 19th level at this point. They also had the following permanent enhancements: +4 enhancement bonus to all stats (with +6 to two stats), +4 enhancement bonus with any weapon, +4 enhancement bonus to any worn armor, +5 resistance bonus to saves, +6 deflection bonus to AC, +5 enhancement bonus to natural armor, fast healing 3 (activates 1 minute after injury), resistance 10 to all energy types, maximum hit points possible on all hit dice.

** Every PC also got some special ability of their own. In Korm’s case, it was focused around his sword. Korm’s sword now is a Keen Binding Bloodstone Aberration-Fiercebane Jovar +1, which also allows use of Whirling Blade 2/day. The sword also has three unique abilities now: (1) As long as Korm is wielding it, when he rages he gains the Mighty Rage ability (+8 to Str & Con when raging, and +4 morale bonus to saves); (2) When Korm strikes an aberration or outsider with it, 2/day (as a swift action) he can affect it with Nature’s Grasp, causing roots to appear beneath it (the target must be on the ground) and wind around its feet. The target must make a DC 25 Will save or be unable to move from the spot for 1d6 rounds. If it has magical transportation abilities, it must make a save (whether it succeeded on the first one or not) for each ability or lose access to it for 1d6 rds; (3) When Korm strikes an aberration or outsider with it, 2/day (as a swift action) he can affect it with Nature’s Wrath, causing it to take 10d6 damage and be dazed for 1 round (a DC 25 Fort save halves the damage and negates the daze). 

*** Korm, at this point, is at 34 Str when raging and wielding his sword, so he can drag 12,000 lbs around.

**** When wildshaping, Luna takes on not only the offensive abilities but also the defensive traits of the form attained. She also automatically gains all the benefits of her shifting ability (+2 increase to Con, scent ability, natural weapons are one size larger and critical on 19-20) too, which last as long as she is wildshaped.

***** Gareth’s special ability is focused on the Endless Blade, which is now a unique Holy Avenger. Like other Holy Avengers, it has a +5 enhancement bonus to hit and damage and allows Gareth to cast a greater dispel magic at will (CL 20, only area dispel). It also retains its earlier abilities, being an intelligent Ghost-Touch Holy Lucky weapon (able to, on command, cast Cure Critical 2/day and Swift Fly 2/day, and to assume the form of any weapon at will). But it has three other unique abilities when used against evil creatures: (1) It ignores DR of all types (including epic and untyped DR); (2) It does +4d6 damage, instead of the +2d6 that holy weapons normally do; (3) When used to smite evil, the paladin applies twice the amount he would apply for his class levels.

****** Six’s harness became a little more effective and also gave him the Perfect Construct form. This is a list of all the things that the harness can do now: 
The harness cannot be removed. His swordsage abilities are accessed through the harness. It increases the composite plating’s armor bonus to +4. It provides immunity to criticals and nonlethal damage. It also makes Six immune to ability damage, ability drain, death effects, necromancy effects and stunning. Six also has a number of abilities he can access at choice through the harness:
(1) Mask of Flesh – 1/day (full-round); Six can grow a covering of flesh for a disguise, which functions as a disguise self spell, except that his height does not change. It lasts one hour and then falls off in rotting lumps. The effect is dismissible.
(2) Enlarge Construct – 1/day (standard); Six can enlarge himself, with the same effects as the enlarge person spell, for 5 minutes. The effect is dismissible.
(3) Shroud of Shadows – 1/day (standard); The streams of shadow which generally emerge from the harness thicken, blanketing Six’s form and making him difficult to target with precision. It provides a 50% miss chance against attacks. The effect lasts for 2 minutes or until dismissed.
(4) Perfect Construct Form – 1/day (standard); Six loses the living construct subtype for the duration of the effect. He becomes immune to mind-affecting spells and abilities and to any effect that requires a Fortitude save. Six is also no longer affected by spells that affect living creatures and spells from the healing subschool provide him no benefit. He has no Constitution score for the duration of the spell but his hit points remain the same. If dropped to 0 hit points or lower, the effect ends. The effect lasts for 2 minutes or until dismissed. Once, while the Perfect Construct Form is in effect, as a standard action, Six can heal his wounds (to a maximum of 150 hit pts). Using this ability ends the Perfect Construct Form immediately.

******* While activating his aspect, Nameless gains access to one epic spell slot, which is ooccupied by the unique epic spell – Armor of Xoriat. The spell can be cast as a standard action and affects Nameless for as long as his aspect is in effect. It provides him with an untyped +4 bonus to armor and on saves. If attacked physically or with a spell (which must be targeted in some way and not an area spell), each attack may come in contact with one of the layers of the Armor of Xoriat. If the attack is made by a targeted or effect spell, the layer provides a benefit which might affect the spell. If the attack is made by a melee or natural weapon, the attacker takes some effect from the layer. Roll on the following table:
1 – 20 points of fire damage (Ref half); vs. a spell, reduces damage to half (no effect vs. spells that do not do damage) 
2 – 40 points of acid damage (Ref half); vs. a spell, reduces damage by 40 points (no effect vs. spells that do not do damage)
3 – 80 points of electricity damage (Ref half); vs. a spell, reduces effect by half (applies to damage or any other numerical effect)
4 – Poison. Die instantly or take 1d6 Con damage on a Fort save; vs. a spell, allows spell to occur first and then triggers a maximized cure serious wounds (40 hp healed) on Nameless
5 – Turned to stone (Fort negates); vs. a spell, changes its target randomly to someone else within fifty feet
6 – Become insane as insanity spell (Will negates); vs. a spell, causes it to target caster in addition to Nameless
7 – Creature sent to another plane (Will negates); vs. a spell, negates its effects completely
8 – Attacker or spell ignores the Armor of Xoriat
9 – The attacker or spell is affected by two layers (roll twice on list above)
The DC for the saves is 20 + Int. If the attack is by a creature of 8HD or less, besides whatever effect the layer has, it is automatically blinded for 2d4 rounds.


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## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> So Shil, WAS there some way we could conceivably have stopped Mual-Tar from destroying the flame?
> 
> We did have the final session of the campaign this weekend and let's just say everyone proved to be very, very, true to their nature.




How so? I thought the group acted in an atypical manner. Hell you and I sat in my living room for 3 hours the day before planning....that's a first.


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## shilsen

AviLazar said:


> How so? I thought the group acted in an atypical manner. Hell you and I sat in my living room for 3 hours the day before planning....that's a first.



[Pre-emptive strike]Maybe you guys should discuss that over email too.[/pre-emptive strike]


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## Rackhir

AviLazar said:


> How so? I thought the group acted in an atypical manner. Hell you and I sat in my living room for 3 hours the day before planning....that's a first.




I was imprecise, what you mention was the _PLAYERS_ acting atypically. The characters were very, very true to their natures.

These have actually been up for a while, but I was holding off mentioning this until Shil's latest post was up, but Lv. 20 versions of Gareth and Nameless are up in the Rogues gallery thread.

http://www.enworld.org/forum/plots-...shilsens-saturday-story-hour.html#post3212796

Boy there is a BIG difference in power between 8th and 9th lvl spells, especially if you bring in the Spell Compendium.


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## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> Boy there is a BIG difference in power between 8th and 9th lvl spells, especially if you bring in the Spell Compendium.




Without the DR issue Gareth went from being the big pounding powerhouse to 2nd place.
Nameless definitely did the most damage in one shot, followed by Korm (I think).  Gareth had a couple of  good shots....but Gareth's damage comes from his ability to bypass DR where others have a hard time, power attack and hit consistantly and his ability to crit (imp critical and falchion)....with no crits his damage goes down a lot.

Gareth with righteous might critting does:
6d6 + 1d6 fire, +1d6 cold, +1d6 Sacred, +4d6 Holy, + 42 str dmg. Then add:
+5d6 fell the greatest foe
+80 smite dmg vs evil
+10 power attack (we cap power attack at +5)
+16 divine might

With crit Gareth would do at a minimum: 166 dmg (assuming all roles of 1).  

Since there were no crits (I think Gareth was the reason for this), it goes down to:
89 dmg min....a lot sadder

You will rue this day Shil, you will rue this day!!!!

That and 9th level spells...Oh damn.


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## shilsen

Teaching and dissertation work has been keeping me particularly busy recently, with my gaming-oriented time given over to DMing our new Kingmaker game and some playing of my own (play-by-post on playbyweb.com, which is where I've been getting most of my playing time for the last few years). That'll be the case for a while now, but I'll get back to the story hour as soon as I can.


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## carborundum

Slipped off the forum, had to search for it and keep it on the active thread list type bump 

How's the dramatic climax coming on, Mr. Shilsen?


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## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> Slipped off the forum, had to search for it and keep it on the active thread list type bump
> 
> How's the dramatic climax coming on, Mr. Shilsen?




We're a fair ways off from that. 40d6 does not go as far as you might think vs Mual-Tar.

Though my second favorite moment of the campaign is not too far off I think.

Revenge is a dish best served with a max dice Empowered MAXIMIZED Disintegrate.


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Slipped off the forum, had to search for it and keep it on the active thread list type bump
> 
> How's the dramatic climax coming on, Mr. Shilsen?




Sadly, it's currently running at 4th on my list of priorities behind the following:

1 - Grading papers

2 - Dissertation work

3 - Running our Kingmaker game

But I shall return to the story hour sooner or later, especially since I'm done with the semester in 2 weeks time. Yay!


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## carborundum

I hear ya - our term ends in a few weeks too - Yay!
All my time after that will be taken up getting the baby room ready 

Still, by the time it's born and ready for a bedtime story, I'll know if there's a happy ending!


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> I hear ya - our term ends in a few weeks too - Yay!
> All my time after that will be taken up getting the baby room ready
> 
> Still, by the time it's born and ready for a bedtime story, I'll know if there's a happy ending!



So how many months away is the arrival of the new gamer? I'll admit I never considered the Guardian Angels as a bedtime story 

Work-wise, I'm almost done right now and will be in 2 days. And here's the next bit of the writeup.

* * * * * * * * * *
The Guardian Angels spend some time experimenting on and with the link they seem to have to each other, checking to see what effects it has and if it allows them to do anything that they could not do earlier. They quickly discover that if they focus slightly longer while casting a spell which could otherwise only be delivered by touching the target, they can now deliver it—if doing so to one of those linked to them—while up to ten feet away. A particularly interesting element of this ability is that it seems to work through barriers too, whether physical or magical, so an intervening wall or a _wall of force_ doesn’t prevent its usage.

If they concentrate for a minute, they can actually hear each other, even if not in normal hearing range, and can carry on a conversation via the link. This ability extends to everyone actively attempting to join in the conversation, allowing for multiple parties to participate at once. A similar amount of concentration also provides information about how far away and in what direction one of the linked creatures is. This ability seems to work irrespective of any magical protections the creature might have, with even a _mind blank_ not obstructing it in any way. 

The Angels’ experimentations raise all sorts of new questions about what these abilities and their link to each other—and, presumably, to Mual-Tar—means for them, but the discussion is interrupted as they are joined by Jaela and Cedric, with Essirise following the two in her habitual shape as an elven woman. 

Unlike the Angels, both Jaela and Cedric look significantly the worse for wear, the dark circles under their eyes betokening their tiredness. The short stubble that Cedric usually wears is beginning to grow into a beard, while Jaela appears to be in the same clothes that she wore during the battle a day and a half ago. Essirise is the only one who doesn’t look any more tired than when they last saw her, but then again, she combines the natural endurance of a dragon with her magical shapechanging abilities.

The three of them have a number of things to discuss with the Guardian Angels. Besides wishing to satisfy their curiosity about precisely what transpired to cause all of the Angels to sleep so long—or, in Six’s case, to fall asleep in the first place—they also bring news about the results of the battle, which they provide once the Angels have filled them in on what they think happened. 

The news that the trio bring with them is intriguing. Besides the information about the remnants of the defeated aberration army having fled into southeast Thrane and toward the Mournland, there is news from across Khorvaire of aberration forces retreating. Most of them have either entered or are heading toward the Mournland, but some of those which are a long distance away from its borders seem to be seeking out shelter or defensible positions. A number of them have apparently retreated back into the tunnels which they used to emerge from Khyber. 

Jaela says, expression matching the worry in her tone, “Perhaps now that Mual-Tar has absorbed … some of the power of the Silver Flame, they hope to utilize it to open up the remaining dimensional seals.”

“It is a possibility,” Nameless replies thoughtfully, “But I doubt it. From what we have seen and learned of it, there was little indication that the Worm had any real master-plan or motivation beyond achieving blind destruction. It seemed to have been drawn here with a desire to consume the power of the Flame, rather than via an actual strategy. Or so I surmise.”

“Yes,” agrees Gareth. “During the battle it didn’t even seem to respond to the daelkyr lord’s orders. It’s probably just a mostly mindless beast.”

“A very _big_ and super-powerful mindless beast!” Luna corrects, before looking thoughtful in turn. “Hey – since the Worm ate the Silver Flame, maybe having all that shiny goodness inside it will turn it good too? Maybe?”

While Jaela and Essirise stare at the Gatekeeper with a mild form of the confusion she often engenders in those around her, Korm chuckles, “Have you met Gareth? He’s been full of the Silver Flame since day one and … actually, forget it!” He glances sideways at the paladin and winks. “We don’t have time to discuss what you’re full of!”

Nameless rises, emitting a harsh laugh. “True. We still have to ascertain the limits and ramifications of our new abilities. And, in view of the events of the battle, plan our next move.” The alienist glances at Jaela and says, “But first, I have something to offer you. You have provided us tremendous amounts of aid, without which not one of us would be alive right now. As a small token, now that I have finally gained the power to do so, I would like to cast a _wish_ on your behalf. I cannot restore your lost powers, of course, but perhaps there is something else I can do for you?” 

Jaela looks momentarily surprised and then clearly touched. “Thank you, Nameless,” she replies, before adding hesitantly, “But I’m … really not sure what I would … or should, ask for.”

“Hmm. Would you perhaps like me to create a permanent illusion of the Silver Flame where it once was,” he suggests, “As a way to allay people’s fears or provide them with hope?”

The former Keeper of the Flame considers the proposition and then slowly, almost reluctantly, shakes her head. “No, I do not think that would be right, since it would be false. But, again, thank you.”

“You know,” says Cedric, who has been watching silently, “Every girl needs a pet.” 

“Huh?”

The general of Flamekeep’s forces gives Jaela a meaningful look. “A dog. An ugly, smelly, many-legged dog, which can help protect her from the many foes she has.”

“Oh – Skaravojen!” Jaela smiles as realization dawns and she turns to Nameless. Before she can speak, the alienist smiles too, at the expression on her face, and then says, “Done!” 

Nameless speaks a word of power. The alienist has long been able to see deeper and farther into the true meaning of the great illusion around him than others do, being able to clearly perceive and revel in what lesser minds cannot. As a scholar, as an arcanist, and above all, as an alienist, he has always been able to see beyond, into places that would surprise, confuse, horrify and finally destroy weaker minds, which rely on mundane reality as a blanket to shroud them from the true meaning of existence. His magical abilities have always enabled him to somewhat change the world around him. But now, at the apex of his powers, the alienist feels a quiet satisfaction and a sense of completion as the ability to reshape reality flows through him. Which, with a thought and a gesture, he now uses.

A moment later, there is a growling bark, with a rumbling undertone of joy, and a large, dark hairy beast rushes through the doorway and hurls itself at Jaela. Skaravojen has returned.

As the former Keeper of the Flame dissolves utterly into an eleven-year-old girl who is reunited with her beloved pet, Cedric looks past her with a glance of approbation at Nameless and silently mouths the words, _“Well done!”_

* * * * *
Once Jaela and Skaravojen have had a little time to enjoy the reunion and Nameless has been profusely thanked by her (and thoroughly licked by the dragonhound), the group moves on to other issues on their agenda. 

Jaela mentions that the various nations, most of the dragonmarked houses, and a few extra-national organizations, have sent queries about the results of the battle, the status of the Silver Flame, the situation with the aberration forces, and related matters. She also mentions that a very common query—particularly from the nations of Aundair, Breland and Karrnath—has been about Thronehold and what happened there and why a piece of the island is now missing. 

Gareth says, “I’m sorry you have to deal with the Thronehold thing. Just blame it on us.” Jaela smiles slightly and replies, “I already have.”

Jaela then also lists the various people who are waiting to speak to the Guardian Angels or have sent messages of various kinds, usually magical, to indicate that the Angels should contact or meet them. The trolls from Droaam which fought beside them are apparently getting a little worried about returning to the Hags and are getting fractious. The captains of the airships wish to know if they can return to Stormhome or are still needed. Mordain the Fleshweaver, the Daughters of Sora Kell, Gurr’khan, and Lalia d’Deneith have all sent messages as well.

“We should have hired an answering service,” Six says dryly as Jaela works through the lists of people. She chuckles at his words and says, “What will you do next?”

“Go to Droaam and Sharn, I believe,” replies Nameless, “But then we need to check the Mournland. I wish to visit the spot where Mual-Tar entered it and see if its magic-warping abilities had any effect on the area.”

Essirise suddenly puts in, “And I shall return to Argonnessen. I need to relate what has happened here and see what aid I can bring back. I’ll return as soon as I’m able.”

“Sounds good,” says Korm. “I never look a gift dragon in the mouth.”

Cedric grins at the witticism and then says, his expression turning serious, “And there’s one thing I’d like you to do before you leave – speak to the College of Cardinals.”

Jaela frowns, her expression one of mild distaste and concern, and says, “Do you think that’s really necessary, Cedric? They do have more important things to do.”

“Yes,” he replies, in a firmly insistent tone, “But they also need to ensure that there’s someone to hold Thrane—and the Silver Flame—together while they’re gone. And that’s you.” Looking around, he clarifies, “Now that the Flame is gone, the Cardinals are panicking and looking for someone to blame. And Jaela’s the perfect target. That f*cker Krozen’s been waiting a long time for this, and though he can’t be Keeper now, he’s not about to give up the opportunity. They’re meeting now, in fact. I could interrupt the meeting and say a few choice words, but,” he pauses, a wicked smile flowing across his face, “I think we have more qualified people in this room.”

* * * * *
Only minutes later, the College of Cardinals, whose members have hurriedly gathered together in the largest of their meeting chambers, is rudely interrupted. An incredibly unhappy-looking guard captain sticks his head through the door, his expression presumably in part due to entering the chamber but perhaps more so because a particularly large and well-armored troll is carrying him. Dropping the man unceremoniously, the troll looks around asks, “So – can we eats them?” A couple more troll heads extend past the doorframe, looking hopefully into the chamber.

“Sadly, no,” says Korm, walking into the chamber behind the troll, accompanied by the other Guardian Angels, “Or at least, not yet. Give us a few moments please.”

“Okay!” grunts the troll disappointedly before shambling out of the door and stopping in the doorway, clearly in a guard position.

Indignant and alarmed cries break out in the chamber, only to be quickly silenced as Gareth cries out, “Silence! We are here to address the Council!”

Cardinal Krozen, seated on the high chair at the front of the room, rises to his feet, his face read with anger. Almost spluttering in rage, he stammers, “You … you … people! You have no authority here! You cannot … !”

“Shut it, bozo!” growls Luna as she walks forward, sounding remarkably ursine despite being in her natural shifter form now. Shoving past Krozen, she turns to face the College of Cardinals and points to herself. “Listen – people! See this glow? It means we’re the incarnation of the Silver Flame. When it got eaten by that damn snake, we got a lot of it too. So we represent the Flame. And Jaela is the Keeper, right? So she represents us. So you better listen to her. Okay?”

“Was that what you planned to say?” Six asks Nameless, sotto voce.

“Not quite,” says the alienist, before shrugging. “But it seems to be working. Perhaps because they’re confused now.”

Befuddlement is certainly the expression on most faces in the chamber. While murmurs flow up and down the long rows of seated Cardinals, nobody says anything for a few moments, till a particularly ancient-looking member in the front raises a hand.

Luna, who has been looking around with a pleased expression, points and says, “Yeah! You have a question?”

“Yes, miss,” says the old woman, who looks ancient enough to be her great-grandmother, “Are you representing Jaela?”

Luna frowns and opens her mouth to explain again who represents what and expand on the incarnate nature of the Guardian Angels, but Gareth quickly interrupts. “Yes,” he says, “We represent Jaela Daran. The _Keeper of the Flame_,” he emphasizes, “Who speaks for the people of Thrane.”

Nameless steps up beside Gareth and adds quickly, a pre-cast magical effect carrying his harsh tones clearly to everyone, “Flamekeep, we know, is in a state of crisis. Jaela Daran and Cedric Galan are the reason the city—and you—still exist. They are currently holding things together, and we want to ensure that their efforts receive your full support. This is not a request. We are informing you of the facts. If you do not fully support them in their efforts, we shall be very displeased. You do not want us displeased.”

Luna, who has been frowning at the interruptions, turns to growl at the Cardinals, “Yeah! You jerks try not to stress Jaela out. She’s been through a lot!”

Krozen, who has turned almost apoplectic by this point, finally manages to interrupt. “You … you scoundrels! How dare you attempt to intimidate us into following you?! You and that little girl can ….”

“Oh, shut it!” Korm says disgustedly, catching the Cardinal’s eye with a menacing glare. Unfortunately for Krozen, the glare is backed up by the supernatural abilities that the Gatekeeper possesses. The Cardinal stares at Korm for a moment and then collapses, instantly asleep as the Gatekeeper’s hex takes effect. Before he can hit the floor, Six darts forward to catch him. Easily picking him up with one hand, the warforged unceremoniously deposits him on a nearby table.

Korm grins around at the startled watchers and says reassuringly, “He’s resting now. When he wakes up, tell him I said to behave.”

“Or,” Nameless says succinctly, “We _will_ be back.” Then he says, over the telepathic link that he has with his companions, _“We made our point. Let’s go.”_

The Guardian Angels proceed to depart, only Luna pausing to give everyone a last, threatening growl as they exit the chamber.

Once outside, Nameless says, “Well – Flamekeep and Jaela’s position are as stable as we can make it. And we’re as empowered as the Silver Flame can make us. The Flame is gone, but so is Antaratma. We have allies to talk to and Essirise is hopefully going to bring more aid from Argonnessen. It’s not an ideal situation, of course, as long as Mual-Tar exists, but I think we have a chance to deal with the situation.” Seeing Gareth frowning, he asks, “You’re still worried?”

“Yes,” says the paladin, “It’s been two days since we last spoke. Lalia’s going to kill me!”


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## carborundum

Sweet - threatening blowhards is always fun! 

I suspect you're just using work as an excuse though - it took you all those weeks to think of the word "betokening" 

The new gamer is due in March, assuming all goes well. I imagine it will come as a shock, no matter how well-prepared we think we are. (Currently, not.) Can't wait though!


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## Furby076

I was thinking of keeping shilsen strapped to my hot water heater, in the basement, so he can write more but I was told by D.H.L. & I.N.S. that is not allowed because his VISA status is in order. Now I'm just waiting to get him on tape saying the wrong thing so I can keep him locked up under the Patriot act


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## carborundum

Just noticed you only need 30 page views for the 100,000. 
Come on! Come on!


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Just noticed you only need 30 page views for the 100,000.
> Come on! Come on!




Thanks to your post I see we're actually at 99,999 now, so this should do it 

On the gaming front I've been busy trying to wrap up the second module of the Kingmaker AP with the group* before college reopens for me on Wednesday, but I do have half of the next Guardian Angels writeup done. So you can expect it ... er, sometime.


* I changed a few things so they're about to go up against a triceratops-riding-bralani-eladrin. Don't worry - it makes sense in context. Or something.


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## shilsen

The first stop for the Guardian Angels is the Great Crag in Droaam. Having been forewarned of their arrival via _sending_s, two of the Daughters of Sora Kell—the blind seer Sora Teraza and her diplomat sister, Sora Katra—are awaiting them, since the third—Sora Maenya—is away leading the armies of Droaam against the aberration incursions in the country. 

The two hags are naturally very interested in what has transpired for the Guardian Angels thus far, particularly the details regarding the end of the Silver Flame and the situation with Mual-Tar. Sora Teraza, unsurprisingly, was instantly aware of the passing of the Silver Flame, an event so monumental that, she says, many of the more powerful diviners around Khorvaire—and possibly elsewhere in Eberron—would have automatically noticed it in some way.  

Once the Angels have related some of what occurred, they ask the hags for a favor – to be allowed to retain the six trolls from Sora Maenya’s guard. “We’ve found them very useful,” Gareth says, “And considering that we are about to continue pursuing the Worm and fighting Xoriat, we could use the help.”

“They’re all alive, for one thing,” says Korm, before chuckling, “And, believe me, that’s not what usually happens to people who get in a fight with us – whether on our side or the other!”

Sora Teraza turns her sightless face towards her sister. “That would be possible, yes?”

“Of course,” smiles the slender young elfmaid that is Sora Katra’s current form. “We’d be very happy to acquiesce. Especially,” she laughs, “Since Maenya is not here. She was not … pleased when we told her that we had loaned six of her prized warriors to you.”

“Good. I would not want her angry with us,” says Six, with utter seriousness. “I know your nation is the primary source of byeshk on the continent. Would you be able to find the right sized byeshk weapons for the trolls?”

“Of course,” repeats Sora Katra. “Give us two days and we shall have them fully equipped for you.”

“Thanks,” says Luna. “You’re very helpful. I don’t get why everyone says you’re evil, baby-eating, monster hag people!”

There is a moment of utter silence, before it is broken by a long and raucous guffaw from Sora Katra which belies her appearance. “I sometimes wonder that myself,” she says, when her merriment has diminished slightly. “And we’re happy to help. As we’ve said, we’re quite aware of the ways in which your continuing presence and activities benefits Khorvaire and, by extension, us. Is there anything else we might do to aid you?”

“Well,” rasps Nameless, “This is a small issue in the scheme of the things we’ve been dealing with, but it’s a personal one. Could you tell us how much a Daask drug den goes for?”

The silence this time is just a little longer before Sora Katra asks, curiosity and amusement warring in her tone, “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh – I see where this is going!” says Korm, a broad grin stealing over his face.

“You know what happened to us with the attack on the Daask drug den in Sharn a little over six months ago,” explains Nameless, “And six months is the period that we promised no hostilities against them. Frankly, it’s an embarrassment I’d like to wipe off. Since I don’t want this to be a sticking point between us, I’d be pleased to pay for all the damages to your organization before I blow up one of them.”

Sora Katra chortles and nods. “I see your point. Reputation is important. Why don’t you give me the two days that we’ll need to outfit the trolls and I’ll get back to you about which one I’d prefer you to, er, explode. And you don’t need to pay for any damages. We do need to … liquidate some unsatisfactory employees once in a while to make a point, so you can do that for us.”

“Thank you,” says the alienist. “If you simply had them present at the drug den in question, we'd happily take care of it.  I should mention that I’d appreciate it if you picked a location where collateral damage would be minimal. And we’ll also take out a Boromar drug den to even things out. We owe them a lesson too.”

“That’s us,” laughs Luna, “Equal opportunity avengers!”

With that additional little detail taken care of, the Guardian Angels take their leave of the hags, promising to return in two days to pick up the trolls. Sora Teraza also promises that she will inform them of anything else she might learn in the interim that may help their cause.

* * *
The next stop is Sharn. As usual, the group reappears in the Gray House to find Fett and Trillia awaiting them. The major-domo and Nameless’ former mentor both confirm that things are quite stable in Sharn, with only minor signs of aberration activity since the last large attack that the Angels thwarted nearly three months ago. 

Once Nameless explains to Trillia what he and the others have recently achieved and done, he asks, “Any interest in actually visiting Xoriat? I will admit that even though my understanding and comprehension of the plane’s nature were fundamentally perfect before I experienced it, there’s a certain pleasure to be had in actually seeing seventh-dimensional flux realities in play,” he chuckles harshly, “And especially in their 'native' habitat.”

Trillia smiles in return but shakes her head hurriedly. “When I began to study Xoriat’s nature and influences, I never dreamed that I’d one day have the option of traveling there. Or,” she grimaces slightly, “Having it travel to my city. So – no, thank you. I’m perfectly happy retaining only an 'academic interest' in Xoriat.”

Once they have spoken with Trillia and Fett, the Guardian Angels head in various directions. Knowing that they will in all likelihood have to enter the Mournland to deal with Mual-Tar, they decide to obtain as much aid as possible. So Nameless _teleport_s them to New Cyre, to meet with their old comrade Corven. They find the latter to now be the primary magical adviser to Prince Oargev ir'Wynarn, but he is—as always—happy to take time away from his duties to meet his former allies. Particularly when they mention what they are about to attempt. In the space of only an hour, decisions and agreements are made, Corven promising that in three days time he will have a squad of skilled Cyran artificers, warriors and scouts ready to accompany the Guardian Angels into the Mournland.

During the meeting, Six suggests that the group make use of airships as they did during the Battle of Flamekeep, perhaps using their link with Mual-Tar to allow them to fly over the Dead-Gray Mist until near its location and then be lowered through it. While the suggestion obviously has a number of risks, the others agree that it is as feasible as any to enter the Mournland, and decide to follow it. 

To that end, once they have taken their leave of Corven and _teleport_ed back to Sharn, Six visits one of the House Sivis enclaves and obtains the swiftest form of magical communication possible, sending the captains of the two airships that participated in the recent battle a detailed explanation of what they need. Knowing that the message will take at least a day to get through, he adds the information that the Angels will expect an answer in two days. 

Six then proceeds to descend to the Cogs below Sharn, stopping at the Pool of Onatar to speak to the warforged religious leader Smith, before heading to the Red Hammer inn to speak to the owners, Blue and Crucible. He learns there that the warforged in Sharn are actually doing quite well for themselves recently. Now that the city has not been attacked in a while, their skills and unsleeping vigor are in major demand due to the nation’s war footing. As the warforged as individuals and as a community have been earning more and getting somewhat better treatment, they have also been following through on their aim to buy out as many of the indentured servitude contracts as possible, doing so at an exponentially faster rate now. House Cannith has also been delivering on their promise to aid in this regard. Pleased to hear this news, Six spends a couple of hours at the inn, catching up on details and indulging in the warforged-specific delicacies that Blue and Crucible make. 

While Six is busy with the warforged, Nameless, Luna and Korm visit the central House Cannith enclave. There they set up a meeting with Baron Merrix, where they mention the planned-for expedition and ask for aid with artificers. The Baron quickly agrees, saying that he will obtain the services of however many people he can provide at short notice.

Gareth, meanwhile, first makes a stop at the Cathedral of the Silver Flame. There he discovers that—as he had expected—most of the people there have lost the spellcasting ability they possessed, with only some retaining a fairly diminished volume of it. Even Archierophant Ythana Morr has utterly lost her spellcasting abilities. The paladin barely manages to keep a smirk of his face at the news of her current condition, and takes great joy in saying, “I would like to address the people here. Now that many have lost the favor of the Silver Flame, I believe those of us still blessed by it need to be an inspiration to the others.” Though clearly reluctant, the Archierophant has little choice but to accede to the request, though Gareth thinks he faintly hears gnashing teeth when he isn't looking. Stepping up to the pulpit, the paladin delivers a rousing speech, where he both talks about what transpired at the Battle of Flamekeep and about the need to retain faith and courage in this difficult time. When he is done, Gareth thanks Ythana Morr and reassures her with exaggerated good cheer, before exiting the Cathedral with a broad smile on his face.

Having dealt with the Cathedral, Gareth then moves to a much more complicated and dangerous task – facing Lalia. As expected, there is shouting, kissing, more shouting, hugging, and the odd clout to the head, but at least he emerges without permanent damage. The paladin accepts it all with as good a grace as he can, especially since he has little basis for argument when his fiancee points out that he did not even stop by for a moment after he returned, even though he knew that she had just spent a month thinking that he was dead and had lost her sister. After profusely apologizing and taking recourse in repeated references to the importance of his task in Flamekeep, Gareth gingerly mentions that the fact that he is leaving again on the morrow, which leads to another bout of shouting. Once she has calmed somewhat, Lalia peremptorily informs him that he is going to be spending the rest of the day with him, though she does send him away so she can get ready for dinner while he tells his companions that he has plans with her.  

Once he has done so and rejoined her, Lalia and Gareth proceed to have a night on the town, first attending a play and then going to dinner at one of the most expensive of restaurants. Over dinner, the Sentinel Marshal mentions that she has a gift for Gareth. When the paladin opens the box she proffers, he discovers it to be a simple blue pendant on a silver chain. “It's a speaking stone,” Lalia explains, “One that you can use once a day to contact me. From now on, I expect to hear from you between seven and eight every night. Definitely by eight. If I don't hear from you any day, I'll assume you're dead and come looking for you,” she smiles sweetly, “And you better _be _ dead.”

Gareth nods hurriedly and assures Lalia that nothing short of daelkyr lords and giant magic-eating serpents will keep him from staying in touch.

* * * * * * * * * *
The next morning, the Guardian Angels depart from Sharn, Nameless _teleport_ing them to a spot on the edge of the  Mournland, in the same general location as the spot where they believe Mual-Tar entered it. Once they arrive, looking around they can see many signs of creatures having moved into the Mournland through the surrounding area, with discarded equipment and other objects dropped here and there. Being only a short distance from the area where the Worm entered, the Angels head towards it. And only a minute later, they top a small rise to see a group of a little over fifty aberrations—dolgrims, dolgaunts, some athachs and a couple of mind-flayers—some three hundred feet away, clearly about to enter the Mournland.

Unfortunately for the unlucky aberrations, the Angels react instantly – and with extreme prejudice.

Nameless calls upon his newly-gained powers, drawing on Xoriat to simultaneously call forth his Aspect and wrap a manifestation of the plane of madness around him as an armor of shimmering energy. Not quite done, he then casts another spell, this one actually conjuring up dozens of crackling, razor-thin shards of energy. These are actually physical manifestations of Xoriat's infinite planes, which tear through the area—and those unfortunate enough to occupy it—in a roiling frenzy*. A couple of them are instantly ripped apart by the eruption of arcane energy, while others fall dying as they struggle to flee.   

Before the startled aberrations can respond, Luna and Korm cast the same spell in unison. Giant walls of water** appear on either side of the aberration force, before sweeping forward with a dull rumble. Dolgrims, dolgaunts and mind-flayers are bowled off their feet, crushed instantly beneath the tons of rushing water, with only some of the huge athachs remaining upright. 

When the threefold magical assault ends, less than five seconds after it began, only seven of the fifty creatures are left alive – six athachs and one dolgaunt. The latter, badly wounded, leaps away and looks around desperately for an escape route. And then goes utterly rigid, as Six uses a _ring of telekinesis_ to grasp it from a distance.

Even slower of thought and action, the athachs are still roaring their pain and confusion when Nameless _dimension door_s himself close to them, bringing Gareth and Korm with him. The paladin instantly beheads an athach with a slash of the Endless Blade, while Korm—having prepared for such an opportunity before leaving Sharn—leaps between two athachs and ignites a handful of _fire seeds_ to incinerate both of them, his innate resistance to fire leaving him only lightly scorched. 

The three remaining athachs howl in rage and attack, only for their huge clubs to bounce harmlessly off the myriad protective enchantments benefiting their foes. Nameless doesn't even bother retreating from the one on him but calmly casts another spell, causing it to howl even more loudly as the flesh begins to be flayed off its bones***. Gareth blasts another into ashes with a golden _bolt of glory_ that shoots from his palm, while Korm begins to indulge in the joy of actual physical combat, slashing one deeply before burying his fangs in its shoulder as well.

 Having disposed of his foe, Gareth turns to charge Nameless' target, only for the alienist to snap, “Leave my athach alone! I'm studying the effects of this spell to determine its tactical viability!”

“Yeah, whatever,” says Gareth, changing direction to hurl himself sword-first at Korm's foe, who goes down instantly with a cloven skull.

“Spoilsport!” the Gatekeeper says, before pushing Gareth aside to step in the way of another athach. Its club, intended for Gareth's back, impacts solidly on Korm's bare chest. To the short-lived surprised of the athach, the orcish warrior only grins broadly at the impact. “That's not a hit!”, he say, before driving his meteoric blade hilt-deep into the athach's chest. “_That_'s a hit!”

As the athach falls, its unfortunate compatriot collapses at Nameless' feet, its screams silenced as the magical assault finally rips it to shreds. The alienist considers it dispassionately and then nods, “That'll do.”

The sole remaining aberration, the dolgaunt, has been struggling desperately to free itself from Six's control, to no avail. Its attempts finally cease when a gigantic bear leaps upon it. Luna roars and opens her jaws wide, only for Six to shout, “Don't kill it! I wanted it for information!” With a disappointed growl, Luna settles for pinning it firmly to the ground. 

“I've got it,” says Korm, walking over and fixing the creature with a stare. Green flecks momentarily glow in his eyes as he calls upon his Gatekeeper training, attempting to use the powers of nature to affect the dolgaunt's alien mind. 

The aberration struggles feebly under Luna's paw, attempting to resist the intrusion, and then goes rigid for a moment. Then it shakes its head slightly and, turning the empty sockets of its eyes on Korm, inquires, “What is wrong … master?”

Seeing that it has been affected and wanting to heighten its uncertainty, Nameless replies, “We are your true masters. Your leaders have failed us. Do not make the same mistake.” 

The dolgaunt certainly looks even more confused, as it hesitantly replies, “I am … sorry. I don't know anything.”

“No,” says Korm, gesturing for Luna to release it, “You might have valuable information, which we would appreciate. Tell us how you came here.”

The dolgaunt hurriedly rises and hastens to answer in as much detail as possible. It says that the group was part of a larger force which fell afoul of Thranish forces a week ago, hence their smaller numbers. They were ordered to return to the Mournland two days ago and to head towards their lord's lair, at a place which it calls “the ziggurat of serpents”.

“Who is your lord?” asks Six.

“The lord Antaratma – that which dwells within!”

Six glances at the others. “I thought we might not be done with that one,” he says, before again addressing the dolgaunt. “How did you receive the order? From him?”

As he asks the question, Nameless sighs softly and mutters, “I thought he died far too easily.”

“EASILY?” Gareth stares at the alienist. “Are you joking? He almost killed us!”

“Not me! I was fine!” grunts Luna, but Nameless ignores her and says, his tone pedantic and a trifle impatient, “Gareth – Antaratma is a daelkyr _lord_. Emphasis on lord. Nobody in Khorvaire, not even the Gatekeepers at the height of their powers, has ever slain one. That's why they had to be sealed away in Khyber rather than killed, since they simply reform if they are physically destroyed.” 

“But we hit it with the Silver Flame,” complains Luna, still being ignored. “Maybe we needed more Flame?”

The dolgaunt glances at the byplay in a confused manner and then answers Korm, “I do not know. One of the illithids told us and said it was very important.” 

More questioning ascertains that one of the mind-flayers had been implanted with a “hearing stone” which allowed it to receive messages from certain central stones that the leaders of the aberration forces used, which could simultaneously contact all the hearing stones at once. The Angels also learn that the spot where the ziggurat of serpents is located is near “the edge of the land of glass” within the Mournland.

Once they have the information, the Angels discuss among themselves what they should do next and how to dispose of the dolgaunt. As they are considering the issue, the creature diffidently says, “Can I come with you? I can … er, carry your things?”

Korm stares at it for a moment and then chortles. “That's great,” he says, before turning back to the others. “Now we'll have to give him a banner!”

Six emits a mechanical chuckle. “So are we claiming the Mournland then?”

“Excellent,” laughs Luna. “That would just give me so much more space to decorate!”

They pause in their merriment to see that Nameless has walked away to one of the mind-flayer corpses. The alienist gestures them over and says, “We might as well question them too. Gareth – did you come prepared?”

“Yes,” says the paladin. “One _speak with dead_ coming right up.” He proceeds to cast the spell, causing the corpse to twitch and move its tentacles. “It worked. All right – we have eight questions. What do we ask?”

After a quick discussion, the Guardian Angels begin to ask their questions, modifying some based on the answers they receive:

Q: What is at the Ziggurat of Serpents? 
A: Our lord, Antaratma, and the Chaos Serpent.

Q: Is anything else there? 
A: His servants who serve him.

Q: What servants? 
A: Creatures of Xoriat, like me. 

Q: Specifically what servants? 
A: There is no fixed group. It is whoever the lord calls to him to serve his bidding.

Q: Who was the source of the orders to return? 
A: The Tentacles of Antaratma – his mind flayer generals.

Q: What can you tell us about the mind flayer generals? 
A: They are the six who were brought from Xoriat and raised to lead the armies. They are mighty in arms and magic, unlike most of our kind.

Q: What is the function of the ziggurat? 
A: That is where the great ritual will occur.

Q: When will the great ritual occur? 
A: I do not know, but soon, since the Chaos Serpent has returned. 

“That 'great ritual' sounds so promising!” grunts Luna, once the corpse is quiescent again, the magic that animated it having passed. “I wonder what it is.”

“Whatever it is,” says Six thoughtfully, “The time does seem to fit with what Xagygyrag had told me.” 

“That damn dragon!” grimaces Gareth, shaking his head at the memory of the one creature which forced the Guardian Angels to surrender and actually give up some of them—him included—to it. “Remind us again of what he said.” 

Six reaches into his magical haversack and extracts a sheaf of parchments, which he leafs through till he finds the correct one. “Good thing I took notes,” he comments, before reading out, “He said that for the ritual to work one would have to ensure that enough blood has been spilt. And that one would need someone at each seal to activate them at once. I wonder if that is the case here. For the moment to be 'most propitious,'” he quotes, “One would need as many full moons – or new moons, but not both – at once as possible, but Xaggy couldn't say how many we would need. But he did say that the time when Mabar, the plane of Endless Night, is coterminous with ours would be a perfect time. And though that occurs for only three dark nights once every five years, he said it would happen within a few months. Which,” says Six, as he puts away the parchments, “Was a few months ago, so I assume it's close.”

“In eight days, actually,” says Nameless, having been silently calculating in his head for the last few seconds.

“That's useful to know,” says Luna. “But I just wish we knew more about this ritual.”

“Maybe we can,” says Korm, indicating the second mind-flayer corpse near them. “Gareth, can you do that again?”

“Sure,” says the paladin, pulling out a _pearl of power_ to allow him to use the spell a second time. The magic successfully takes hold of the second mind-flayer too, and the Angels begin on the next set of questions.

Q: What is the great ritual? 
A: The ritual will open the seals that are still closed in this world, opening all the world to Xoriat and releasing the other daelkyr lords. 

Q: What is required for the great ritual? 
A: Enough soul energy.

Q: Who will carry out the great ritual? 
A: Antaratma, with Mual-Tar’s aid.

Q: Is Antaratma alive? 
A: Yes, of course.

Q: Can the ritual be completed without the ziggurat? 
A: No, that is what it was built for.

Q: What are the dimensions of the ziggurat? 
A: It is 120 feet tall and 200 long and wide.

Q: Would Mual-Tar’s magic-affecting field disrupt the ritual? 
A: Probably

Q: Does the ziggurat contain a manifest zone to Xoriat? 
A: Yes

Once this corpse too collapses back into death, the Guardian Angels look at each other. Nameless says,   “Unfortunate, but hardly surprising. I presume we will need to head into the Mournland to ascertain exactly what the situation is.”

“All right, but what do we do with that?” asks Six, indicating the dolagunt, which is staying at a distance but watching the Angels hopefully.

“I know,” says Korm. Requesting the _portable hole_ from Nameless, he places it on the ground and calls the dolgaunt over. “I want you to …,” he begins, before pausing and then turning his back on the creature, “Scratch just below my left shoulder-blade.”

As the creature confusedly complies, Gareth says, “What?!”

“Oh, that's not the plan,” replies Korm. “I just got itchy. Now, you,” he indicates the _hole_ to the dolgaunt. “Get in. You'll be safe there. Just keep breathing from that bottle in there.”

Though clearly reluctant, the dolgaunt follows the Gatekeeper's direction. Once it has done so, Korm waves cheerily down at it and then picks up the _portable hole_, which he hands back to Nameless. 

The alienist puts it away and then points at the Dead-Gray Mist. “Time to go in. Again.”


* Maw of Chaos (Spell Compendium), which happens to do 1d6/level damage, so 17d6 in Nameless' case (no save), in a 30 ft diameter circle in the round it is cast and for each of the next 16 rounds. With a Will save to avoid being dazed for 1 round and Concentration checks needed for casting in the area. 

** Tsunami (Spell Compendium), with Korm and Luna currently create a 340 ft long and 40 ft high wave of water, doing 17d6 damage (Fort half) and threatening to carry away creatures smaller than Gargantuan, dealing the damage every round.  

*** Flensing (Spell Compendium), which does 1d6 pts of Charisma and Constitution damage each round for 4 rounds, allowing a Fort save to negate the damage only for that round.


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## Furby076

1) Destroying a drug den based on an old  grudge - Check
2) Hanging out at a bar with old friends - Check
3) Going on a date with the fiancee - Check
4) Preventing the end of the world - Pending

The Guardian Angels definitely have their priorities


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## carborundum

Goodnessme, that's quite the build-up.
With all that preparation, the final battle will be a walkover ;-)


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Goodnessme, that's quite the build-up.
> With all that preparation, the final battle will be a walkover ;-)



That's just scratching the surface of the build-up. By the time we got to the final battle, which spanned sessions 100-101 of our campaign, the PCs had pulled in almost every favor and contact that they'd managed to accrue over the previous 99 sessions and 5 years of gaming. It was glorious!


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## Furby076

shilsen said:


> That's just scratching the surface of the build-up. By the time we got to the final battle, which spanned sessions 100-101 of our campaign, the PCs had pulled in almost every favor and contact that they'd managed to accrue over the previous 99 sessions and 5 years of gaming. It was glorious!




We weren't above begging, offering sex, bribes...we felt like politicians


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## carborundum

Sounds like a blast! Did everyone just remember them all or did you plough through the SH to find favours? ;-)


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## Furby076

Oh we went through all our contacts for the past 5 years. If we didn't kill it then we asked for its help even if we did try to kill it, or managed to kill it and it came back we asked for it's help... mutually assured destruction works... "help us or we ALL die"

Shil would keep a running list of all npcs met so we referenced that too.

A nice thing about this group is that we didn't really gain or lose players so what one person forgot two others recalled.


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## shilsen

carborundum said:
			
		

> Sounds like a blast! Did everyone just remember them all or did you plough through the SH to find favours? ;-)




What Avi said. Sometimes I mentioned options that the characters would be aware of even if the players might have forgotten, and sometimes the players went "What about that person who did/lived at X and whose name I forget..." and I gave them the info. But the vast majority of it was people the players thought of.


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## carborundum

They just needed to dare a few bad guys to go buy a newspaper in Sharn ;-)


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> They just needed to dare a few bad guys to go buy a newspaper in Sharn ;-)



You know, now that I think of it, of all the things that the Xoriat invasion did in Khorvaire, they never, _ever_ tried to get a newspaper in Sharn.


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## Noliar

shilsen said:


> You know, now that I think of it, of all the things that the Xoriat invasion did in Khorvaire, they never, _ever_ tried to get a newspaper in Sharn.




And they call it the plane of madness, Ha!


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## Rackhir

Noliar said:


> And they call it the plane of madness, Ha!




Plane of Madness, not stupidity. Also don't forget, in this campaign the Alienist is the sane, reasonable and Moral character!

Welcome to the Story Hour by the way.


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## shilsen

As Rackhir said, welcome to the Story Hour, Noliar.

And here's a quick update...

* * * * * * * * * *

Knowing that there is no predicting what they will encounter in passing through the Dead-Gray Mist, the Guardian Angels prepare themselves with various protections before entering. Six and Nameless remove the ability to _see invisibility_ which they both normally have, having no desire to see—and presumably be attacked by—the thousands of spirits which inhabit the Mournland, as has happened once before. Nameless links everyone via a _telepathic bond_, not wishing to rely solely on the mental connection that they all have due to the fragments of the Silver Flame that they absorbed.

Once ready, they connect themselves to each other with the self-regenerating _troll-gut rope_ Six possesses, and then head in. The sensation of entering is the same as ever, with sight fading almost instantly, while sound and sensation are both heavily muted. There are, however, a few changes. This time, the Mist seems somehow thicker and more physically tangible, exerting a faint pressure on the Angels as they move slowly through it. There is also a constant buzzing murmur, which seems to resemble the much fainter buzzing that the Angels have encountered ever since they were infused with the Flame. 

Other than these minor changes, there does not seem to be any appreciable difference in the process of passing through the Mist. They hear the faints sounds and cries around them or in the distance, at least one of them feels the touch of an invisible hand at some point, time seems to pass at an odd rate, but eventually, with nothing untoward having occurred, the Guardian Angels step through the Dead-Gray Mist and onto the ground of the Mournland within its borders.

“So far so good,” says Luna, as the Angels look around the dimly lit landscape of blasted desolation. “What next?”

“Why don't we take my dolgaunt out of the _portable hole_ and see if it can give us any directions?” suggests Korm.

“_Your_ dolgaunt?” chuckles Gareth, while Nameless complies with Korm's suggestion.

The Gatekeeper shrugs and grins, before helping the dolgaunt out of the extradimensional space once the alienist has opened it. “So,” he says to the aberration, “Can you lead us to the ziggurat from here?”

The dolgaunt turns its sightless eye-sockets back and forth and then replies that it cannot, before meekly adding that it's not good at judging directions and positioning because it can only see in a certain radius around it.

“Great ,” grunts Luna. “Our 'guide' is blind. We should have got a mind-flayer!”

“That might have caused some other problems,” Gareth observes.

Six, who has been looking around warily, interrupts at this point. “Is anyone feeling a little cold?”

Now that he mentions it, the other Angels realize that the temperature does seem to be decreasing around them, till it is substantially colder than the last time they were in here. The 'weather,' or what passes for it here, seems to be the same, however, giving no indication why this shift is occurring. It is doubly odd because their now inherent resistance to all of the elements normally makes them incapable of detecting shifts in temperature. As they focus on this matter, they also notice a change in the faint firefly-like lights which constantly appear and disappear in the muted silver glow that now permanently surrounds each of them. The little lights have evidently intensified in number, and are also winking on and off more rapidly.  

“I wonder why this phenomenon is occurring,” Nameless muses, half to himself. “My hypothesis would be that the soul energy within us is interacting in some manner with that present in this place.”

“Maybe,” says Gareth. “Let me try something. I prepared this in case it helps.” The paladin picks up a small pebble from the ground and casts a spell, touching the tiny rock to each of his companions in turn. When he does so, the pebble crumbles in his hands. Looking thoughtful, the paladin produces a knife and nicks his finger, before casting a healing spell. There is no effect.

“An _attune form_?” asks Nameless. “That only works on other planes of existence.”

“I know,” says Gareth. “Considering all the things that are different about this place, I wondered if that might help here. Perhaps by attuning ourselves to the weird laws of this place we could heal magically or do other things. I guess not.”

“On the other hand …,” says Korm, indicating the paladin's finger, which has now stopped bleeding. 

“Oh, nice!” says Luna, enthusiastically. “Our fast healing works here. Great!”

Korm chuckles and says, with cynical sarcasm, “We just walked into the Mournland and discovered some good news. There is no way this day will get any worse.”

As he speaks, Six looks up. “You're very perceptive, Korm. Sometimes,” he says with mechanical dryness, flicking his spiked chain to a ready position, “I hate that about you.”

Glancing up to see what the warforged is looking at, the other Angels—and the dolgaunt, which has been waiting patiently and meekly—find themselves staring at the Dead-Gray Mist a hundred and fifty feet above their heads, which forms a ceiling over the Mournland. Two huge sections of the Mist have detached themselves from the larger mass, each of them some thirty or forty feet across. Both of them drop rapidly towards the Angels below, roiling and spinning as they come. As the segments of Mist twist and turn, many scores—if not hundreds—of faces form and reform in their surfaces, seemingly screaming in agony or fear for an instant (albeit soundlessly) before they disappear into the ever-changing surface.

Not that the Angels have time to enjoy or worry about the strange display. As the two swiftly dropping sections of Mist come within twenty feet of them, each one extends what looks like a gigantic pseudopod and strikes at the Angels. Despite their fog-like appearance, the appendages are clearly very solid, as is indicated by the manner in which Korm and Luna are both bowled off their feet. The pseudopods swiftly retract and the creatures retreat slightly, remaining well out of reach of the Angels. 

The two druids respond with _arc_s _of lightning_ and _flame strike_s, but the Mist monsters are clearly both agile and resilient, only small parts of their amorphous bodies disappearing under the magical onslaught. 

Gareth, having been _haste_d along with the others by Six, activates his magical armor, causing giant angelic wings to sprout from his shoulders while his form _blur_s, making it difficult to discern and hit. As he prepares to fly up, Nameless rasps, “You're not flying up after them, are you? Haven't we learned anything about not separating from the group?”

“We need to get close to them!” says Gareth, hefting the Endless Blade. “Unless you can bring them down here.”

“Not quite,” replies the alienist, “But I can do this.” His tentacle flexes as he quickly speaks the words of a spell, and one of the giant masses of ambulatory Mist promptly disappears. “I _maze_d it, but it'll be back soon. Take care of the other.”

Before Gareth can do so, however, the remaining Mist monster swoops down towards them. Its shape changes as it drops, seeming to turn in on itself and form a giant vortex of swiftly revolving clouds, the myriad faces flowing around and around on its surface. The creature smashes down on Luna, who had transformed into a giant bear, and scoops her huge form up inside itself, before retreating upwards again. The unfortunate dolgaunt, which had been cowering a short distance away, is swept up in its wake.

“Ah, great!” says Gareth, before leaping into the air after it. The paladin soars upwards, with the Endless Blade shifting into the form of a lance as he does so. An instant later, he strikes the creature with tremendous force, driving his weapon deep into its cloudy mass and feeling distinct resistance – which tears and collapses under his blow.

The mass of Mist shudders and shakes violently at the impact, but before it can do anything else, Six appears next to Gareth, borne aloft via his cloak, which has transformed into two large pinions of flame behind him. His spiked chain, wreathed around with the shadows that stream from his body, strikes with pinpoint accuracy at the precise spot that the paladin just struck.

This time, the faces on the surface of the Mist monster all scream in unison, making no sound but spreading their mouths wide in what appears to be silent agony. And then disappear, as the creature collapses in on itself and, in the space of a second or two, disappears.   

Which leaves a startled Luna behind, to fall out of the air to the ground below with bone-crushing force. Or at least bone-crushing for anyone besides the phenomenally resilient druid – such as the dolgaunt, who is possibly having the unluckiest day of any dolgaunt on the planet. The aberration falls too, its shriek of terror cutting off as it smashes into the ground – and then has Luna plummet right on top of it.

Korm opens his mouth to say something, before jerking his head back upwards as the _maze_d Mist monster reappears where it had been before Nameless' spell, looming over Gareth and Six. Two appendages appear this time, smashing into each of them.

As the creature engages his two companions, the alienist below says, “Time to finish this.” Nameless casts a _limited wish_, using his temporary control of the immediate future to manipulate their enemy's chances of resisting his next spell. 

Above him, the Mist monster hammers at both Six and Gareth, its powerful blows striking the two despite their agility or heavy armor or magical protections. It absorbs their attacks, as well as a _flame strike_ from Korm, but there is a limit to what it can take. An incredibly powerful beam of energy strikes it, causing the entire mass to be momentarily outlined in emerald green light. Then it collapses in on itself as the combination of Nameless' weakening of its resistances and his _disintegrate_* reduces it to nothingness.

The alienist smiles and mimics cocking and then firing a crossbow. Then he glances at Luna, who climbs a little groggily back onto her four legs and then picks up a mangled form in one paw. Holding up the crushed and bloody remnants of the dolgaunt, she gives Korm a weak ursine grin. “Sorry!” 

The Gatekeeper stares at her and then waves his arms, yelling aggrievedly, “Dammit – you broke my dolgaunt! And I just got it!”


* Which was empowered and maximized, doing approximately 350 hit points worth. Even a reskinned air elemental monolith has trouble absorbing that kind of damage.


----------



## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> Plane of Madness, not stupidity. Also don't forget, in this campaign the Alienist is the sane, reasonable and Moral character!
> 
> Welcome to the Story Hour by the way.




Osama Bin Laden also believes those things about himself.


----------



## Rackhir

AviLazar said:


> Osama Bin Laden also believes those things about himself.




Shrug. 

Nameless has done his best in almost every situation to try and do that which was the most benefit to the most people. He never shirked his responsibilities. His conscience is clear.


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## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> Shrug.
> 
> Nameless has done his best in almost every situation to try and do that which was the most benefit to the most people. He never shirked his responsibilities. His conscience is clear.




I think everyone agrees with that sentiment about themselves also, so comments about being the most sane, reasonable and moral character in the group is hm a bit self aggrandizing. No one member of the group is better then the other


----------



## Rackhir

AviLazar said:


> I think everyone agrees with that sentiment about themselves also, so comments about being the most sane, reasonable and moral character in the group is hm a bit self aggrandizing. No one member of the group is better then the other




I believe Nameless's actions speaks for themselves.


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## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> I believe Nameless's actions speaks for themselves.




Sure, same for the rest, but your the only one who thinks he is better then the rest


----------



## shilsen

I'm finally getting a break from teaching and grading since I'm on spring break for a week, but that also means extra time on dissertation work and job stuff (since I might not get a  teaching gig next semester), plus some gaming, of course. But I'll see if I can throw together a writeup during this time.


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## carborundum

Thanks for the headsup. I'm looking ofrward to it, mate.

By the way, before I stopped my own game due to the upcoming firstborn (next week according to schedule!) I hit the group with a one, two, three of phase spiders, mind flayer monks and a beholder. One of THOSE beholders 

I've never heard so much whining! "You do know that there's nothing in any book that has two initiative counts... just checking." "Erm, you know a beholder isn't supposed to do that sort of ray..."

Two under zero but no kills. The ride back home was fun


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Thanks for the headsup. I'm looking ofrward to it, mate.
> 
> By the way, before I stopped my own game due to the upcoming firstborn (next week according to schedule!) I hit the group with a one, two, three of phase spiders, mind flayer monks and a beholder. One of THOSE beholders
> 
> I've never heard so much whining! "You do know that there's nothing in any book that has two initiative counts... just checking." "Erm, you know a beholder isn't supposed to do that sort of ray..."
> 
> Two under zero but no kills. The ride back home was fun



Hah! That's brilliant! 

I'm glad you had fun with the encounter. As for your players ... well, a little suffering is good for the soul.


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## RedTonic

Ooo, I just caught up and am looking forward to reading the final battle. Though seriously I think Gareth should be much more afraid of Lalia than of Xoriat, and Xoriat isn't anywhere near as nuts as Luna.


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## Furby076

RedTonic said:


> Ooo, I just caught up and am looking forward to reading the final battle. Though seriously I think Gareth should be much more afraid of Lalia than of Xoriat, and Xoriat isn't anywhere near as nuts as Luna.




Gareth is deathly afraid of lalia.
you are wrong about luna; she is not nuttier then xoriat, just more desrructive. Nameless is nuttier then Xoriat.  Xoriat invokes the essence of luna to wreak havoc on the world


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## RedTonic

Nameless seems like a nice guy with an unfortunate appearance whom I'd like to drink expensive coffee with and talk about the universe. But not too long, because I don't want to go more insane, and I'm pretty sure my wisdom score couldn't handle it.

I really like the "behind the scenes" bits where Shil explains things from a DM perspective. I'm gearing up to run a homebrew campaign and I haven't run anything in a while. I'm also partial to the flavor = me, mechanics = wotc approach, so it's edifying to see both another DM's take on it and the vi--er, players' perspective as well. 

By the way, you guys seem to bicker a lot in the topic. Do you guys argue that much at the table? The last campaign I was in, the DM would flip an egg timer and if we hadn't stifled ourselves by the time it emptied, we'd have trouble. (Please don't take offense--the quarreling was actually pretty entertaining.)


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## shilsen

RedTonic said:
			
		

> Ooo, I just caught up and am looking forward to reading the final battle. Though seriously I think Gareth should be much more afraid of Lalia than of Xoriat, and Xoriat isn't anywhere near as nuts as Luna.




Welcome to the Story Hour. It's always nice to have new readers.



RedTonic said:


> I really like the "behind the scenes" bits where Shil explains things from a DM perspective. I'm gearing up to run a homebrew campaign and I haven't run anything in a while. I'm also partial to the flavor = me, mechanics = wotc approach, so it's edifying to see both another DM's take on it and the vi--er, players' perspective as well.




I'm glad that you enjoy that aspect of it. If you have questions about anything on the DMing front, feel free to ask. I've already corresponded with a couple of readers (carborundum, for one) re. DMing and horri..., er, interesting things to do in the game.



> By the way, you guys seem to bicker a lot in the topic. Do you guys argue that much at the table? The last campaign I was in, the DM would flip an egg timer and if we hadn't stifled ourselves by the time it emptied, we'd have trouble. (Please don't take offense--the quarreling was actually pretty entertaining.)




Rackhir and AviLazar do like to bicker a fair bit, but they don't do much of it at the table, mainly because I don't like to waste gaming time on it. Plus we've been playing together for a long time so they're both a little more tolerant of each other than when we first started.


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## Furby076

shilsen said:


> Rackhir and AviLazar do like to bicker a fair bit, but they don't do much of it at the table, mainly because I don't like to waste gaming time on it. Plus we've been playing together for a long time so they're both a little more tolerant of each other than when we first started.




Rack and I do like each other. On occasion we go out together to get dinner, catch a movie, hang out and play video games, etc.  We just have very different viewpoints and don't always see eye-to-eye. So we bicker 

On a side note - we sit next to each other on the couch


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## carborundum

I must say, Shil's correspondence has really thrown my players out of their comfort zone - for which I am eternally grateful 

They're much more metagamey than my previous group, and prone to saying things like "Are you _sure_ he sees me? I'd just like to mention that I'm 125 feet away and I believe those things have 120 foot darkvision."
(The PC in question has knowledge skills in the +25 range, so he can justify it) Still, I was getting a bit annoyed at times. I tend to be more "If I say it, it's true."

I'm slowly weaning my group off the Monster Manuals and DMGs at the table approach, greatly assisted by throwing ideas cribbed from this campaign at them 

My background is 1E and AD&D, while they are more 3E. I make stuff up, they expect monsters to follow the same rules as players. Now I just let my beasties do what I want and write it down as a custom monster feat or whatever!


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## Furby076

The advantage of re titling creatures is that players can't use metagame knowledge. So even if I have the mm book out it does me no good if the creature matches the description of a dolgaunt but is actually a mind flayer.
now obviously if I make the knowledge chheck I should be told what's its abilities/weaknesses are but shil doesn't say" flip to page x".

Shil just has a knock for relabeling things...plus there are so many monsters out there (thousands) its impossible for us to know them all.
shil also uses lots of disposables, templates, etc...thoughhe doesn't shy too far away from core to save himself time


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## RedTonic

That's the prime reason I try to incorporate reskinning into my GM technique. Secondary, I like to have new creatures, but I don't have the mechanical intuition to always tell when one of my whole cloth creations is too easy or too difficult for my players' characters--and I'd rather not unintentionally TPK them. It's best to not duplicate work if I can avoid it, I say.

Shil, you said you don't do much planning in advance--do you stop your sessions after your players make a big "choice" which affects what scenario you'd do next, and plan out that stretch of the adventure, or do you literally just have a stack of NPCs (enemies, allies, and indifferent) and make it all up on the fly?

I'm trying to determine how much advance planning I personally want to do for my campaign. I don't want to railroad the players too much because I have some folks I haven't played with before and so I don't know what the group's interests will be in the game. (I know I've already got some of them quaking because I informed them that I shall be using the sanity variant.) And Shil seems like a veritable font of RBDM advice. :3


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:
			
		

> The advantage of re titling creatures is that players can't use metagame knowledge. So even if I have the mm book out it does me no good if the creature matches the description of a dolgaunt but is actually a mind flayer.
> now obviously if I make the knowledge chheck I should be told what's its abilities/weaknesses are but shil doesn't say" flip to page x".




All true, except near the end of the Guardian Angels campaign, where Nameless had a godawfully high Knowledge bonus in almost everything, so if the PCs encountered something from the standard MM, I told him he knew everything about it.



RedTonic said:


> That's the prime reason I try to incorporate reskinning into my GM technique. Secondary, I like to have new creatures, but I don't have the mechanical intuition to always tell when one of my whole cloth creations is too easy or too difficult for my players' characters--and I'd rather not unintentionally TPK them. It's best to not duplicate work if I can avoid it, I say.




Luckily, I'm very good at working out mechanics (both in evaluating something at first glance and making up stuff on the fly), so I've rarely had occasions where I miscalculated how tough something would be to fight. That said, there's so much work in DMing that I try to keep extra time to a minimum, hence the use of existing material wherever possible.



> Shil, you said you don't do much planning in advance--do you stop your sessions after your players make a big "choice" which affects what scenario you'd do next, and plan out that stretch of the adventure, or do you literally just have a stack of NPCs (enemies, allies, and indifferent) and make it all up on the fly?




Somewhere in between. I definitely don't make it all up on the fly, but since I'm big on PC/player choice driving direction and in certain situations (a lot of the time in Sharn, for example) I can't really predict where PCs will go next, I'm always ready to deal with things I haven't prepped for. In general, when I start a session I have a few encounters (not necessarily combat) planned which I think PCs might run into and some general information I think I might need, and that's about it. Anything I didn't include or plan for I just wing when needed. 

I don't think I've ever ended a session purely because the PCs made a big choice I didn't plan for, and I've run a couple of combat encounters (though very few) where I had no stats ready whatsoever. Since I can crunch numbers pretty well in my head, I just picked AC, attacks, damage, saves, etc. which seemed reasonable (and in 3e you can get a very wide range, so I knew I was in the right ballpark) and ran with it. I've gathered after talking to my players that they never knew which one was planned and which one wasn't 



> I'm trying to determine how much advance planning I personally want to do for my campaign. I don't want to railroad the players too much because I have some folks I haven't played with before and so I don't know what the group's interests will be in the game. (I know I've already got some of them quaking because I informed them that I shall be using the sanity variant.)




I'm a big fan of trying to do a good mix of what works for the players and, of course, what suits you as a DM, so I'd get as much feedback as possible before and during the game. And be prepared for the fact that many people can't really articulate what they want.



> And Shil seems like a veritable font of RBDM advice. :3




I aim to please  

Let me know if you have any other questions.


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:


> Luckily, I'm very good at working out mechanics (both in evaluating something at first glance and making up stuff on the fly), so I've rarely had occasions where I miscalculated how tough something would be to fight.




How many sessions and how many deaths did we have in the GA campaign?


----------



## shilsen

AviLazar said:


> How many sessions and how many deaths did we have in the GA campaign?




101 sessions and 49 "deaths". Which is precisely what I calculated it would be


----------



## Krellic

I've been ploughing through this Story Hour over the last few days and it seems I'm just in time for the big finish!

Very enjoyable and it's certainly made me ask myself a few questions about the kind of campaign I want to run next...


----------



## carborundum

Totally off-topic but I just wanted to tell you guys I have a daughter!
She was born on Wednesday (Game night!) and is a total star 

Check her out at misterjeff | Daar zijn we dan!


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Totally off-topic but I just wanted to tell you guys I have a daughter!
> She was born on Wednesday (Game night!) and is a total star
> 
> Check her out at misterjeff | Daar zijn we dan!



Congratulations. Especially to Sanne, since she had to do the hard part


----------



## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> Totally off-topic but I just wanted to tell you guys I have a daughter!
> She was born on Wednesday (Game night!) and is a total star
> 
> Check her out at misterjeff | Daar zijn we dan!




Congrats!

Also. Welcome to the SH, Krellic and RedTonic.


----------



## shilsen

With the strange Mist monsters disposed of, the Guardian Angels use a _portable hole_ to heal their wounds, entering the extradimensional space to separate themselves from the conditions of the Mournland. Once they are all completely hale, then Nameless, Luna and Korm conjure up the regular collection of _phantom stag_s and _steed_s to transport the entire group. The Angels mount up and, using the connection with Mual-Tar as a guide, race through the Mournland towards the Chaos Serpent.

The journey is essentially uneventful, especially considering that it is the Mournland. The incredible speed of the Angels' magical transport—combined with their ability to fly—allows them to simply bypass whatever obstacles they encounter or creatures they spot. Not that they see many, even taking their location into account. What they do spot on a couple of occasions are bands of aberrations traveling in the same general direction that they are—or battling some of the strange denizens of the Mournland—but the Angels do not pause to destroy them, focusing rather on reaching Mual-Tar's location as quickly as possible. 

Within a couple of hours, their link to the Chaos Serpent indicates that they are no more than a dozen or so miles from its position. After traversing another couple of miles, the Angels spot the Glass Plateau. Intriguingly, huge swathes of it, ranging in size from only a few hundred feet in width to areas nearly half a mile across, appear to have been somehow flattened out and destroyed, allowing the plain beyond to encroach onto the area the Plateau once occupied. Of more immediate interest, however, is a large encampment of aberrations almost directly ahead of the Angels. As they slow down and approach to study the camp from a distance, the Angels find that it is bounded by a low wall a few feet in height, within which stand some of the organically grown structures that the creatures of Xoriat appear to use. There must be approximately five hundred aberrations within, they estimate, most of them dolgrims, but with some more powerful species present. In their examination, they also spot another such encampment to both left and right, albeit a little further away, each about two miles from the one nearest to them. 

“Let's see if we can circle around them,” Nameless suggests, and the Angels proceed to do so. But as they near the next camp that they saw, another one appears beyond it. As Luna, whose incredible eyesight first detects the farther collection of aberrations, points it out, Korm frowns thoughtfully. “So it looks like they're in a giant circle, right?”

“Yes,” says Gareth. “Considering the distance, it must be … about … ”

“Twelve miles,” rasps Nameless. “And two hundred feet, which seems needlessly imprecise. More to the point, we should find Mual-Tar at the center of it.”

“There's enough of a space between any two of the camps to get through easily,” points out Korm. “Should we just ride through or fight them?”

“Ride,” opines Six pragmatically. “Save our resources till we absolutely have to fight.”

“Agreed,” says Gareth, and the others agree with the paladin and the warforged. Finding a spot as far from the two nearest camps as possible, the Angels speed through the gap. Though the aberrations in the two camps do spot them, going by the significant amount of movement in each area, they are too far away and moving too quickly to be intercepted, and soon leave the camps behind. 

Within a minute or two, as the magical mounts race through the air a couple of feet above the crystalline surface of the Glass Plateau, the Angels spot more encampments. These ones, it quickly emerges, depict a similar and smaller circle within the larger one they passed through. They are individually larger, holding perhaps a thousand inhabitants each, and the gap between one camp and and the next is only about a mile. 

“Ride through again?” asks Gareth, and when the others agree, the Angels again proceed to race through one of the gaps, staying as far from either camp as possible. As they ride past, Six leans sideways to peer as closely as he can at one of the encampments. Then he rumbles, his mechanical tones contriving to convey the frown that his metal visage cannot, “I am quite certain that one is built on the ruins of the Lord of Blades' camp – where the warforged we met on our way to the Cyst were.”

“Oh,” says Luna, “Do you want to stop and check what happened? We could kill them and then you could check the area?” 

There is silence for a long moment and then Six replies, “No. I warned them and they said they would leave. And we have more … important things to do.” The warforged straightens in his seat but, despite the words, he looks back thoughtfully at the aberration encampment as it recedes quickly behind them. 

Until Korm whistles softly and says, “Now look at that!”

Ahead of the Guardian Angels, located at the spot which once, many months ago, the Black Cyst had occupied, is one final aberration encampment. This one is gigantic, stretching over two miles across, and must contain tens of thousands of aberrations. Around the camp is a twenty-foot high wall, partially constructed and partially grown, within which stand hundreds of structures, many of them bearing a close resemblance to the ones which the Guardian Angels first encountered in the subterranean cavern with the ziggurat.

Perhaps the similarity is heightened by the fact that there stands something at the center of the encampment which seems even more distinctly a familiar – another ziggurat, one which seems the twin of the one that the Angels encountered—and where most of them eventually died—in the Shadow Marches. The only real difference is that this one seems to be constructed of stylized worms, resembling Mual-Tar but much smaller at only about twenty feet in length each.

The Guardian Angels have little leisure to study the scene. Coiled next to the ziggurat—which stands in an open area at the camp's center—is the Chaos Serpent, its body gleaming brightly with silver radiance, the light extending in a corona about a dozen feet from its form. Moments after the Angels pause to consider the sight before them, Mual-Tar suddenly extends itself, its upper half rising to a good hundred feet above the ground and turning in their direction. As the aberrations in the area around it scatter in seeming panic at the leviathan's movement, it dives into the ground and disappears in an instant.

And all the Angels, even though none of them were actually concentrating on the link with it at this moment, feel it approaching. Rapidly.

“Wait!” says Luna, as she realizes what she feels about the speed of its advance. “Am I imagining things or is it traveling faster than our _stag_s?”

“No, you're not imagining it,” says Korm grimly. “That explains a lot of things about how it got where it did as fast as it does.”

“That's … insane!” says Gareth. “How does it get through solid ground that way?”

“I don't know,” says Six, speaking quickly, “But I prefer not to find out. Let's leave – now!”

“Agreed,” snaps Nameless, “Running will only give us some time before it catches us. And I really don't want to try evading it physically. I think it's time to risk a _teleport_.”

Nobody disagrees and as everyone gathers around, the alienist casts his spell. There is the familiar wrenching sense of dislocation that they have encountered whenever using similar spells in the Mournland and  then they find themselves standing before the Dead-Gray Mist.

“Interesting. It appears to have worked,” says Nameless, before he focuses on the link to Mual-Tar. After about a minute, he says, “Based on the direction, I'm certain we're a good bit south-east of where we entered. I believe we traveled about four hundred miles further than I had intended to. But I can't work out our precise location without spending some time traveling back and forth and triangulating. Which is probably not necessary.”

“No,” says Six. “I vote we leave. We already learned what we need to.”

Again, nobody disagrees, and the Angels prepare themselves and proceed into the Mist. Despite the usual odd sounds and effects which they have encountered every time they entered it, their passage through the barrier around the Mournland passes with relative ease. Until Korm, in the lead, steps out of it and falls off a cliff. 

“Ouch! Hey!” The startled Gatekeeper has no time to react before he hits some rocks a hundred or so feet lower, which he manages to grab onto. Then he extends cloaker-like wings from his back and slowly flaps his way back up to the others, who have paused above, heads protruding from the mist and studying the surrounding area. Then they take flight in various ways and all fly down to the ground some five hundred feet below. 

After a little consideration of the stars and moons appearing in the evening sky above them, Nameless works out that they are on the border of Darguun, where the hobgoblins of Lhesh Haruuc rule. “We appear to have shifted in space and time too,” he explains, “since it shouldn't be anywhere close to evening yet. I think we lost approximately six hours.”

“Or gained them?” asks Luna, suggesting enthusiastically, “Maybe we went back in time? That would be cool!”

“Right,” says Nameless, his tone non-committal, before asking the Angels to gather around again. Once they have, he uses another _teleport_ to take them back to their mansion in Sharn.

Arriving without a mishap, the adventurers ascertain from Fett and Trillia that the passage of time has been precisely what Nameless calculated it to be. Having done so, they—or at least all of them other than Six—turn in for the night.

* * * * *
The next day is a particularly busy one for the Guardian Angels. It begins with an early _sending_, this one from Essirise in Argonnessen, who says, “_Am returning in two days with allies and powerful magic. Also information about Mual-Tar. Time for aberration ritual near. Must attack them soon as possible_.”

After Nameless responds that the Angels have some useful information too and then communicates the silver dragon's message, Luna grumbles, “Of course we have limited time! Story of my life! I wanted to decorate the nursery today. And do some shopping!”

After half-choking on the _heroes feast_ that he and the others (bar Six) are eating, Korm coughs to clear his throat, gives her an amused look, and then addresses the group as a whole, “So – what's our agenda today?”

Six—who has now got to the point that he keeps a detailed list of the Angels' past and future activities, meetings, contacts, et al—flips open a notebook and speaks while studying it, “The trolls from the hags and the Cannith artificers are supposed to be ready today. We're supposed to hear from the Lyrandar airships today too. Corven said the Cyrans will be ready tomorrow. Smith, Crucible and Blue said they can have some warforged ready to go today, but a few more days will help better prepare them and mean more are available.” He closes the notebook and says, “I suggest we wait a few days to collect as much aid as possible. Based on what we saw, we will need it. And more. What can we do about the Worm?”

Gareth rubs his head worriedly. “That's the one thing that worries me. Aberration armies we can handle. But that thing ….” He shakes his head.

“I have a couple of 'cunning' plans regarding Mual-Tar that I'm still formulating,” rasps Nameless, “but at this juncture I have been unable to create one in which I have any confidence of … success. This ritual, however, must be interrupted. Unless something new shows up—and I hope that Essirise brings something of the kind—we may have to simply amass as much firepower and aid as we can and hope for the best.”

“Oh, great!” Korm chuckles sardonically. “We're all gonna die! But we might as well have a little fun before that. Since having less aberrations added to that gigantic army is probably a good idea, why don't we fly around and smash some armies today? Stop them from joining up with the ones  in the Mournland?”

“Sounds good to me,” says Gareth.

Nameless opens his mouth to say something when Luna interrupts, “Yeah, that could be fun, but what about the shopping? I wanted all of you to come and pick out things for the nursery. Remember, I'm going to be a mom!”

The alienist's eyes widen faintly and then he quickly says, “Nobody's forgetting that. But dealing with some of the armies is probably a better investment of our time. We can … go shopping once we've dealt with the invasion.” Six, not adding anything, nods vigorously.

“Bah! You … guys!” Luna grunts, but she doesn't push the issue.

The divinely-provided breakfast is soon disposed of, but not before the Angels receive another _sending_. This one is from Stormhome, the two captains confirming that House Lyrandar has provided permission for them to aid the Angels and stating that their airships can be in Sharn in three days. After a quick discussion, the Angels ask them to travel to Flamekeep instead, where they will meet the airships. 

With that done, the group prepares themselves for departure. Once they are all ready and have gathered in the foyer of the Gray House, Gareth asks, “So how do we find the armies? Just flying around looking for them will take a lot of time.”

“We won't. I have a better plan,” says Six.

A short time later, in the _Korranberg Chronicle_'s primary offices in Sharn, the reporter Flim Turen finds himself talking to the Guardian Angels. Once they explain what they want and why, he shakes his head and chuckles. “You realize this isn't information we normally share, right? I'll happily give it to you, but please don't be telling anyone the source.”

“Of course not!” scoffs Luna. “We know how to keep a secret!”

A strangely similar look of fleeting pain flashes over her companions' faces, and though Flim retains a placid calm, his eyes flicker slightly. “Yes. Quite,” he says, before rising. “Give me a minute.”

It actually takes a quarter of an hour, but at the end of that time, the Angels find themselves looking at a large map of Khorvaire, covered in multiple marks, arrows, and lines which would not normally appear on such a document, with accompanying notes in the margin. “There you go,” says Flim. “Umm ... enjoy yourselves?”

“Oh, we will,” says Korm, with a grim chuckle, as he and his companions head for the door. Luna pauses as they are exiting and says cheerfully, “We'll be back soon. Don't think I've forgotten that column I promised to write for you on Sharn society and surviving Xoriat invasions. And Korm's got some new recipes for his one too!”

This time, Flim's twitch is a little stronger, but luckily the closing door hides it.

Outside, Gareth looks at Six and says, “Nice thinking.”

The warforged inclines his head. “Thank you. It seemed obvious that if anyone on the continent has a good idea where the armies are, it would have to be the gnomes. And with their connection to House Sivis and access to their information network, the _Korranberg Chronicle_ seemed the right place to go.” He emits a mechanical chuckle. “I was hoping the Sharn office would have the information, since they know us – and I don't think we wanted to go to Zilargo for the information.”

Korm scowls and shivers theatrically. “No. Xoriat is bad enough to deal with!” Then he grins. “Now let's go blow some sh*t up!”

* * * * *
With the information at hand, the Guardian Angels spend the next few hours using Nameless' _greater teleport_s or a _master earth_ provided by Luna or Korm to traverse the leagues of Khorvaire. At each of their destinations, they search around until they find the aberration army they know to be in the area – and then do what they do best.

In southern Thrane, refugees fleeing their village in fear of a nearby force of aberrations stop and look back hopefully at the sound of magical explosions behind them, wondering if the army of Flamekeep—known to be far to the north—has arrived to provide aid. Instead, in a moment that will be enshrined in legend among them and their descendants, five eclectic individuals crest a hilltop near them, in the lead a gigantic flying bear ridden by a man in shining armor bearing the insignia of the Silver Flame. The man calls out to them, “You are safe now. The aberrations are dead or have fled. You can return to your homes. And if Cedric Galan comes by, tell him he's welcome!” 

An hour later, a Karrnathi commander at Fort Bones marshals his troops as they prepare for a sortie against the aberration army camped nearby. As he is in the middle of an inspirational speech, explaining how the people of Karrnath are counting on them to drive these intruders from their land, one of the watchmen on the walls gapes and then slowly turns to call down to him. “Colonel – you might want to see this!”

The commander hurriedly runs up the steps to reach the parapets, just as a very odd-looking quintet of people flies up into view on the opposite side. The man in the lead speaks in a raspy voice, as if exceedingly hoarse, “You people use the bones of your enemies in the wall, right?”

Taken completely aback at their advent but having an inkling who these might be, all the Karrnathi warrior can think of is nodding slowly.

“Good. We brought you some.”

The warforged near the speaker flies forward to hover above the battlements and then upends what must be a _bag of holding_, causing a cascade of heads, limbs and other body parts—many of them evidently scorched clean of flesh to leave only bone—to flow out of it. Then he nods and flies back.

“Compliments of the chef,” chuckles the hugely muscular orc, floating nearby on lazily flapping leathery wings. “That mindflayer was excellent!”

As the Karrnathis stare, only the skeletons and zombies on the battlements stolidly ignoring the newcomers, the five individuals gather around and then—as the first speaker casts a spell—disappear.

Alas, there are no such viewers to befuddle and amaze, when the Guardian Angels locate the aberration army on the borders of the Icewood in the northeast of Karrnath. It is especially unfortunate, since the results of that battle are directly connected to the future fate of Khorvaire and the climactic events that end the War of the Angels.


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## carborundum

Excellent stuff - and typical Shilsen to end on a cliffhanger like that.
Gnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!!


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## Rackhir

I believe we are about 3-4 posts away from my second favorite moment of the campaign.


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## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> I believe we are about 3-4 posts away from my second favorite moment of the campaign.




I am dying to know what Shil created for the post-wrap up


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## Rackhir

AviLazar said:


> I am dying to know what Shil created for the post-wrap up




I thought that was called "The Kingmaker Campaign".


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## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> I thought that was called "The Kingmaker Campaign".




Kingmmaker is. About 5 to 10 years after GA campaign.  Stuff happened, and without going into detail here (since it would spoil stuff for our readers) it would be cool to see the ending.


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## carborundum

Like we don't have enough to get worked up about while waiting for THE END!!!


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## RedTonic

I'm gonna deposit this bump here for safekeeping.

Can't wait to see what happens next! :3


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## shilsen

RedTonic said:


> I'm gonna deposit this bump here for safekeeping.
> 
> Can't wait to see what happens next! :3



In the interests of avoiding my grading (I have 80 end-of-semester papers sitting on my desk right now), I completed another update and sent it off to Rackhir, who's nice enough to double check them before I post, so it should be up here in a few days.


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## RedTonic

Awesome! Coincidentally, while avoiding more cramming for my finals, I'm cruising the story hours.


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## Furby076

shilsen said:


> In the interests of avoiding my grading (I have 80 end-of-semester papers sitting on my desk right now), I completed another update and sent it off to Rackhir, who's nice enough to double check them before I post, so it should be up here in a few days.




I've been saying it for six years now. I am all for duct taping you to the water heater in the basement. Providing you with a long enough lease so you can reach the water bowl, which I hope I would remember to fill. This will allow you to concentrate on the important D&D game, not some silly students.


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## shilsen

RedTonic said:


> Awesome! Coincidentally, while avoiding more cramming for my finals, I'm cruising the story hours.





Well, here's some more to distract yourself...

* * * * * * * * * *
The third and last army that the Guardian Angels encounter consists of a smaller number of dolgrims than usual, with only two hundred of the four-armed creatures present. Conversely, they are accompanied by a somewhat larger proportion of more powerful creatures than is usually the case, with about a third as many runehounds, dozens of cloakers, half a dozen mind flayers, another half a dozen gauths, and two beholders present.

There is little apparent sophistication to the Angels' tactics when they attack, Nameless simply _dimension door_ing them within a few hundred feet of the army once they have spotted them. Myriad cries of alarm ring out from the aberration forces, hurriedly followed by a huge volley at the obvious targets. To the utter delight of the dolgrims, the five attackers go down almost instantly under the hundreds of crossbow bolts. With triumphant cries, they swarm toward the fallen enemies, the runehounds racing forward while cloakers swoop overhead and the beholderkin follow more ponderously.

The shouts falter a few seconds later, as the Guardian Angels leap to their feet in perfect unison, just as the runehounds are almost upon them.

*“BOO!”*

And then the cries turn to screams of horror and pain, most of them swiftly snuffed out, as an avalanche of destruction engulfs the army.

Some of that is not even metaphorical, with Luna bringing down one _earthquake_ after another in the area*, first utterly devastating the army and then decimating the short-lived survivors who desperately scramble to flee.

Nameless completes the large-scale destruction by hurling a _meteor swarm_ into the midst of the aberrations, before switching to more precise attacks. A well-placed _sunburst_ catches the beholders, blinding both as well as a number of the gauths and cloakers around them. A moment later, he uses a quickened _wall of fire_ to cut off the retreat of the runehounds. 

Gareth causes a magical eruption of earth and stone** in the midst of the mind flayers, bringing down a couple of them. As one of them dodges desperately away, a flying shard of rock reverses direction in mid-air and neatly skewers its head, thanks to Six and his _ring of telekinesis_. The warforged then quickly pulls out a scroll and touches the paladin's shoulder while activating it and, an instant later, they appear right next to the remaining mind flayers. While Gareth slashes into the enemy, eviscerating or decapitating whatever is within range, Six focuses on tripping one of the mind flayers and then bashing it into unconsciousness. He then _dimension door_s out, with both the unconscious illithid and the paladin in tow, the latter depositing a _blade barrier_ among the few remaining foes as a parting gift. 

Terrific as the destruction they cause might be, none of the Guardian Angels take quite as much pleasure in the battle as Korm. Pausing only to cast a _resist energy_ to negate their acidic breath, the Gatekeeper rushes forth and hurls himself gleefully into the midst of the runehounds. With their retreat blocked off, most of the creatures pounce upon him too, eliciting only a loud shout of “Yes! Everyone – leave them to me! Nameless – can you stop them getting away?”

The alienist silently complies, two more _wall_s _of fire_ enclosing that section of the battlefield, penning Korm and some fifty runehounds into one area. Unable to see what is occurring within, the other Guardian Angels continue mopping up the rest of the army and bringing down the remaining flying aberrations in various ways. 

Sounds of battle continue to emanate from beyond the area within the _walls, though the growls and snarls from the runehounds diminish dramatically as the others hear Korm pronounce the words of a horrid wilting. Some of the growling also devolves into fairly pathetic whining, accompanied by inarticulate shouts of glee from the Gatekeeper.

Then, just as it seems the short-lived affray is winding down, one last enemy appears. The one surviving beholder appears past the far corner of the walls of  fire, firing its eyebeams blindly and roaring in frustration as it floats only a couple of feet above the ground. 

Before the other Guardian Angels can respond, there is a loud shout of “Sit! Stay! Good runehounds!” and then a bulky shape—or collection of shapes—bursts through the wall of fire closest to the beholder. It is Korm, streaming with blood, his hair kindling as he rushes through the flaming barrier. His state, however, is hardly as poor as that of the three runehounds he drags along with him, their fangs still buried in his flesh. The creatures, all horribly wounded, shudder and collapse as the magical flames roast them.

Letting them fall, Korm looks up and shouts, “Mine!” With a flap of the cloaker-like wings emanating from his shoulders, he hurls himself at the beholder, rising above it to get in a better blow. Which, blind though it is, actually manages to roll around in mid-air and strike him with the antimagic field that still emanates from it***. With a disappointed, “Ah, crap!” Korm falls, but luckily he's close enough that he manages to grab onto the creature. Gatekeeper and aberration roll on the ground together in a whirl of snapping jaws, writhing eyestalks and a slashing blade.

“Should we help?” asks Gareth.

“Pfft! Looks like he's doing fine!” scoffs Luna. “Look – he just bit it in the eye!”

Sure enough, Korm finally rises, grinning triumphantly above the globular corpse which bobs just above the ground near his feet. “That was … awesome!” says the Gatekeeper happily. “Nameless – can you get rid of the walls?”

The alienist complies, dispelling two of the fiery barriers, to reveal an area littered with the corpses of the runehounds that he had penned within less than a minute ago – and nine live runehounds sitting patiently in a row. As the walls disappear, they whine like a bunch of overly large and deformed puppies.

Korm grins back at them and calls, “All right – come over here!”

The creatures leap up in unison and rush forward, hurling themselves onto the Gatekeeper and bowling him over in their enthusiasm. Korm rolls around on the ground with them, his magical protection leaving him unaffected by the acidic saliva dripping from the tongues that loll from the long heads growing out of the middle of their backs.  .

Luna laughs at the sight and then says, “So someone charmed nine of them while fighting the others? Nice job! Can we keep them?”

Nameless, Gareth and Six exchange long-suffering glances and simultaneously say, “No!”

While Luna pouts, the warforged decides to provide a quick distraction and picks up the unconscious mind flayer lying at his feet. “Korm – come see if you can charm this one too. I'd like to know what they were doing so far north.”

When the Gatekeeper complies, having once more commanded the runehounds to sit in one place and behave themselves, Six revives the mind flayer. The creature shakes its head and glances around blearily for a moment before  freezing, partly in alarm and partly because the Gatekeeper's gaze takes effect upon it.

Then, after a moment, it telepathically addresses Korm, “Why have you done this … my friend? Who are these others with you?” The telepathic tone is a puzzled one, as the creature's mind struggles to make sense of the contradictory emotions that it feels in its charmed state. 

“Don't worry,” Korm transmits in return, chuckling inwardly as he replies, “These are the … disciples of Snookums. They are important people. They were sent with me,” he adds, “to bring the information that the Silver Flame is not destroyed. It is inside us – the Guardian Angels. Make sure to let the other aberrations know that.”

The mind flayer remains silent, clearly having some difficulty in digesting the message – and working out what it means. Taking the opportunity, Korm continues over their mental link, “What were you doing in this area? Was there something particular you wanted? ”

Sounding almost relieved to be able to deal with a subject it understands, the mind flayer promptly replies, “We were sent by the generals to seek out a particular stone in the forest. It supposedly has much power. I don't know any more about it. Kttchrshlekm was the one who knew. He was in communication with the generals through the graft.”

Though the Angels have suspected something of the kind for a while, Korm reflexively asks, “Graft?”

“The one all the communicators have implanted in them? You know about that – don't you? Are you sure that …?”

Seeing that the mind flayer is growing suspicious, Korm changes his mind about sending it off as a messenger and calmly buries his sword in its skull. Looking at the others, he explains what it communicated. 

Nameless frowns thoughtfully at the information. “Fascinating. I presume it was referring to the Madstone. I had never truly considered that it might have a connection with Xoriat – primarily because I had no particular reason to even think about it before this point.”

“The Madstone?” asks Gareth, a vague memory coming to him from his childhood in Karrnath. “I seem to remember hearing stories about that. Something about …”

“A monolith,” Nameless continues as if the paladin hadn't said a word, his raspy tone taking on the simultaneously meditative and pedantic tone which tends to indicate the sharing of information that he possesses but has no personal memory of, “which has existed in the Icewood for centuries, though nobody seems certain of its source. It is rumored to have an inimical effect on the minds of those who encounter it, but—again—accurate information is lacking, since no claims from explorers and adventurers of having seen it have ever been clearly substantiated. Every few years, there are cases of humanoids who emerge from the forest, evincing extreme strength and hardiness – and attacking every living creature in sight until they are slain. They are known locally as the Madborn and are supposed to be the result of having come in close contact with the Madstone. There are also rumors of a tribe of centaurs in the forest that revere and guard the monolith but, again, no clear evidence.”

“So,” says Six perceptively, “You have some … theory about this stone?”

“Yes,” says Nameless, slipping into what passes as a more normal tone for him. “Based on the legends and the interest of the aberrations in it, I'm considering the possibility that it might be warpstone. That would explain both its source and the effect it has on creatures that encounter it. And would mean it's a potentially useful weapon for the aberrations – or us. I wonder ...”

A loud laugh from Luna interrupts. Frowning, the alienist looks over to see that Korm has summoned one of the phantom stags and attached the two dead beholders to it with ropes. Naturally buoyant as they are even in death, the two aberrations bob sluggishly in mid-air. As the conjured stag moves slowly forward, the pair of corpses float along behind it – with Korm balancing on them.

“What are you doing?” asks Nameless, causing the Gatekeeper to glance over, at which point he promptly loses his balance and falls off. 

Sitting up, Korm chuckles and rubs his head. “Sorry. Just an experiment. I thought something of the kind would completely terrify any aberrations we meet in future.”

“Not really necessary, you know,” chuckles Gareth at the odd sight. “We have Luna!”

Korm chuckles and then rubs his stomach thoughtfully. “Plus I ate some beholder. I'm looking forward to seeing what abilities that lets me manifest.”

“Maybe you'll be able to make your butt puff up into a ball and float around?” opines Luna, with a grin.

“Right now, however,” Nameless interrupt, “we should be returning to Sharn. I want to consider this new information and what we might do with it. You need to bid goodbye to your hounds.”

“Aww! But they're so nice! See?” The Gatekeeper calls out and, once more, disappears under a mound of leaping bodies. 

“You've clearly been spending too much time with Luna,” Six says, before making preparations to depart.

Despite his protestations—and Luna's support—Korm does accept that taking the runehounds back to Sharn would be not just difficult but highly inappropriate, so after playing with them for a bit, he bids the aberrations goodbye. “Run free and … eat any other aberrations you meet, but keep yourselves safe, okay?” he commands before leaving. The last sight that the Angels see as Nameless teleports them away is that of the creatures loping away toward the southwest.

* * *
Once back in Sharn, Nameless visits the Esoteric Order of Aureon and Morgrave University to further research the Icewood and the Madstone. While the basic information he already had is accurate, he discovers a fair number of additional details.

The Icewood is a large forest, stretching 200 miles at its longest. The forest’s name supposedly emerges due to its position in the northeastern part of Karrnath, an area which tends to suffer from particularly chilly winters, and has a reputation for being unnaturally cold. It is also reputedly the home of many kinds of rare monsters, especially those drawn to frigid areas, such as winter wolves or cryohydras. There are even legends of frost giants having been seen in the area. It is difficult to say how much of this information is fact, since the forest has never been really explored, and outside contact with it has diminished drastically over the last century. Even before the Last War began, the dangers of the forest and its location far from the urban centers of Karrnath meant there was little contact with it. Shortly after the start of the War, trappers and hunters trading with members of a large centaur tribe that dwelt in the forest were told that the centaurs had unearthed a giant gray magical stone deep in the forest. They learned nothing more about it, mainly because the centaurs cut off contact with traders shortly afterward. Over the following years, creatures would sometimes emerge from the forest, stumbling around in an uncoordinated manner and muttering about the “Madstone” and its “commands”. The creatures were of many different types, though almost always humanoids, monstrous humanoids or giants, but the one thing they had in common was that they violently attacked anything that they encountered, displaying unusual strength and resilience. They would also sometimes display random magical powers. Sometimes they dragged unconscious captives back into the Icewood. More commonly, they wandered around, slaying indiscriminately until they were killed. In Karrnath, these creatures are called the Madborn. 

Unsurprisingly, little certain is known about the Madstone, since most of the information has only been gleaned from the insane mutterings of the Madborn. Nameless does manage to extract a significant amount of potential data about the subject, though he remains strongly aware that much of this might be incomplete or inaccurate. Based on what he finds, the Madstone is apparently a huge gray rock, probably with dragonshards embedded in it. Its presence has supposedly warped the forest around it, and there is also a possibility that it actually physically moves from place to place within the Icewood. It seems that it contains some sort of consciousness as well. Those nearing its current position can hear its call in their heads and are drawn to touch its surface, at which point they fall under its thrall. Losing their individuality, they wander around, usually with little direction from it, but sometimes being commanded to go forth and bring others back to the stone. The Madstone can evidently see through them and control their actions, causing them to fight with strange, unthinking coordination. It can also unleash bursts of magical power, usually mind-affecting, through them. Even when it is not doing so, they exhibit unusual strength and resistance to damage. 

Despite the lack of clear information, the alienist is fairly confident that this is a huge chunk of warpstone – perhaps somehow left behind during the Xoriat invasion that led to the fall of the Dhakaani empire, perhaps exuded from the depths of Khyber by the influence of the trapped daelkyr lords or their minions.

While Nameless is completing his research, late at night, Gareth receives a sending from Sora Teraza. “We need to speak as soon as possible. I have had a vision about your final battle with Mual-Tar. Can you be here tomorrow?” The paladin responds immediately in the affirmative.

* * * * *
The next day, the Guardian Angels arrive at the Great Crag as promised, to find Sora Teraza and Sora Katra awaiting them as usual. The hags mention that the trolls from Sora Maenya's elite guard have been equipped and are ready to go, but the Angels decide not to take them for the moment, saving them for the inevitable battle with Mual-Tar.

“As you wish,” says Sora Teraza, her sightless eyes turned on the Angels. “That is what I had a vision of, but not of the Mournland. Instead, I saw you fighting Mual-Tar in a the midst of a shapeless void. And not just Mual-Tar. I saw you battling a creature that I knew was a daelkyr lord as well.”

“Yeah, we kinda knew he's back,” grumbles Luna. “Don't those things ever die?”

“Not really,” rasps Nameless. “I had considered that the divine energy of the Silver Flame might have had an effect that normal magic cannot, but we already had enough indications that it wasn't permanent. Tell me,” he turns to Sora Teraza, “did your vision tell you the name of this daelkyr lord?”

“No.” The seer shakes her head. “But there was more. As you fought, a strange facsimile of Eberron floated between you. It was a globe, with the continents—especially Khorvaire—clearly marked upon it. There were cracks all over its surface and, as you fought, streams of silver energy flowed from the daelkyr and Mual-Tar into the globe.” Sora Teraza  points at the Angels and says, despite her physical blindness, “The same silver color that you all glow with now.”

She then continues, “In the vision, as the silver light flowed into the globe, the cracks expanded and blood began to leak from them. But then, even as the blood dripped around you, all of you simultaneously opened your mouths wide and swallowed the silver energy. When you did so, all of you, the daelkyr and Mual-Tar exploded into nothingness. All that was left behind was the globe, with a thin network of silver lines now binding the cracks on it together. That,” she concludes heavily, “was where the vision ended.”

“So,” asks Six, “do you have an interpretation for what you saw? It sounds like we will need to use—or take—the energy of the Silver Flame from the daelkyr and the Worm, which will destroy them, but kill us too.”

Sora Teraza smiles faintly. “You should be a seer. That was my interpretation too.”

“Wait a sec,” says Luna. “I'm not about to blow myself up! I'm having kids!”

“We might not have a choice in the matter,” rasps Nameless, before addressing the hags. “Thank you for the information. We will keep it in mind. I also have some information for you, about a new possibility that has appeared for us.” The alienist proceeds to explain what the Angels have learned about the aberration interest in the Madstone and that they are planning to try to claim it themselves. 

When he finishes, Sora Teraza says, “I cannot be certain, but it seems to me that is a worthy aim. Warpstone can be a strange and unreliable weapon, but better you be the ones to wield it than Xoriat.”

After some more discussion, the Angels take their leave of the hags. Before they depart, Nameless casts a sending of his own, contacting Essirise and saying, “Have possibility of gaining large quantity of warpstone. Opinions on subject? Also have interesting information from Teraza to share. When will you arrive here?”

The dragon replies immediately, “Good idea. Warpstone possibly very useful. Will arrive tomorrow at noon with Siberys battalion and powerful magic. See you at location near Mournland we discussed.”

After relating to the Daughters of Sora Kell what their plans are, the Angels depart for the Icewood and the Madstone.



* She used four of them, thanks to Undermaster (from the Spell Compendium)

** Ice Flowers (also Spell Compendium)

*** I had them roll opposed initiatives and the beholder, with a 4, beat the 2 that Atlatl naturally rolled_


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## carborundum

Fantastic stuff! Since I'm still getting my D&D fix vicariously (baby needs attention) the aberration slaughterfest is my lifeline 

Love the Runehoud rasslin Korm - "Can you stop them from getting away!"  Brilliant!


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## RedTonic

That hit the spot. (And now I'm one semester closer to finishing this master's! Booyah!)


----------



## shilsen

Appearing a short distance outside the southern edge of the Icewood, the Guardian Angels study the forest near them. Perhaps due to what they already know about its reputation, they dimly sense an aura of dark malice emanating from the trees, a deeper darkness lurking under the twisted branches than seems utterly natural. The effect is exacerbated by the thick tendrils of mist that constantly leak from the forest into the air above, seeming thicker than one would expect even in northern Karrnath in early spring.

“Looks like a fun place to visit,” grunts Korm. “Do we head in?”

“Let me try something first,” rasps Nameless. The alienist flies upwards, reaching into an extradimensional space while he ascends, and produces the chunk of warpstone that the Angels had obtained so long ago from the aberrations. Holding the lump of soft gray rock in his hands, Nameless concentrates, attempting to use it as a focus to seek out the Madstone, concealed somewhere within the forest.

The other members of the Guardian Angels watch and wait while Nameless spends a quarter of an hour attempting to discern the Madstone, flying back and forth to see if he can triangulate a location. Finally, he descends and shakes his head while putting away the warpstone. “I pick up a vague whisper of something in there and have a general direction, but that's all. I cannot sense a distance or anything of the kind.”

“A direction's better than nothing,” grunts Luna. “Do you want me to try to _commune with nature_?”

“Not yet,” the alienist responds. “We're probably too far away for it to be useful. Let's fly over and see if we can get any sense of distance. Then you can use your spell.”

Nobody argues with the plan, so the Angels are soon soaring over the Icewood on their usual collection of _phantom stag_s and _steed_s in the direction Nameless indicates, searching the misty forest for any sign of the Madstone. 

After having traveled over twenty miles, Six and Luna spot an area a dozen miles in the distance which appears to be slightly darker and more overgrown, with the trees in the area also seeming noticeably taller.  Having paused for a quick discussion, they descend to a small clearing in the forest below, so that Luna can cast her spell and attempt to decipher more about the area ahead. 

Having found as comfortable a spot as she can on the cold ground, the druid settles into a cross-legged position and closes her eyes. Luna chants softly and slowly, beginning to _commune with nature_, feeling her senses gradually stretch out into the surrounding terrain. There is a few initial moments of discomfort, as if the Icewood—or what lies concealed at its heart—were rejecting the intrusion, but they quickly pass, Luna's incredible will allowing her to push through the resistance.

As she continues the long casting, Six asks Korm, “This will take at least ten minutes, right?”

“Yes. Why?”

The warforged warrior looks around at the thickly clustered trees and the fog beneath their boughs before answering the Gatekeeper. “I'm going to scout around in the meantime. If anything notices or is coming toward us, I'd like to know before it arrives.”

“Okay,” Korm shrugs. “Just be careful and don't get too far away.”

“Yes.” As Six turns away, he adds, over the mental link that their connection to the Silver Flame has given them, _“I'll stay in touch.”_

The warforged disappears into the trees, both physically and metaphorically, dark tendrils of mist seeping out of his armor and shrouding his form, though he remains able to see perfectly through it. As he moves away, Six slowly increases his speed, from a walk to a slow trot to a quick jog to an outright run. Despite the surrounding undergrowth and trees, the relative gloom and fog, the warforged moves faster than an unencumbered human runner on an open plain, smoothly dodging over, under and around every obstruction in his path without slowing his stride. And he does this almost soundlessly, passing through the forest like a swiftly moving tendril of mist borne on an invisible wind. Soon, Six is tirelessly and swiftly depicting a circle over five hundred feet across, centered on Luna and the other Guardian Angels.

When he was first molded in a creation forge of House Cannith, Six was designed for scouting during the Last War, built for stealth and subterfuge, with his skills in this area enhanced by his inability to feel tiredness. Some of the modifications by Mordain the Fleshweaver have only increased these abilities. But when he is with the other Angels, he is rarely in a situation to utilize them. So now, for a few minutes, Six indulges himself in a way that he normally never does. 

Yet even as he silently revels in testing his abilities to the limit, the warforged scout is alert to anything that might stir in the forest around him. So, nearly five minutes after he began his idiosyncratic scouting expedition, he changes direction and darts away, heading toward a sound in the distance.

A few moments later, the other Angels hear Six's voice over the mental link. _“There are six creatures coming directly towards us. Fifteen feet tall, with blue hair and skin. Frost giants, I think. They'll be there in two minutes. Get ready.”_ 

Barely a dozen seconds after they receive the message, Six rushes into the small clearing. “They'll be here in a minute,” he says, “and they definitely know we're here, since they're coming in a straight line.”

“Must be the Madstone directing them,” rasps Nameless. He glances at Luna, who is still quietly chanting. “We'll have to stop them before they get here. A distraction would end Luna's spell prematurely.”

There is a pause in the chanting as Luna grunts, with her eyes still closed, “Damn! I wanted to kill something!” Then she resumes the spell, her chanting now sounding distinctly aggrieved.

“Of course you did,” chuckles Gareth, before looking at the others. “Let's go, before she gets too bloodthirsty to care.”

As the four standing Angels head in the direction Six indicates, Luna—eyes still closed and brow furrowed in concentration—bids them goodbye with a raised middle finger. 

* * *
The six frost giants move steadily through the forest, pausing only to walk around the larger trees, trampling through or over anything else in their path. Their eyes are set on the direction that they are moving in – or seem to be, if one isn't close enough to notice that they are glassy and seemingly unfocused. Nevertheless, there is no lack of determination in their heavy strides, nor in the way each grips a ten-foot long greataxe. 

The giants jerk to a halt simultaneously and turn in unison at the sound of spellcasting ahead and to their right, each raising its weapon to a ready position. The movement and motion is too uniform to be natural – but neither is the force that assaults them.

With a word and a gesture, Nameless tears a hole in the invisible planar barriers that surround Eberron, causing a small portal to Xoriat to appear behind the giants. There is a roaring sound as nearby leaves, branches and even a few small bushes and saplings are instantly drawn to the portal—a jagged gray space hanging in mid-air, shot through with veins of the distinctive greenish-purple of the plane of madness—and through it. The six giants howl in surprise and dig their heels in, some managing to clutch nearby trees to aid them, but three of them are hurled off their feet and into the portal. An instant later it closes, leaving no sign of what it consumed.

“Good job,” says Gareth, stepping in front of Nameless. “Now there are only three, we can force them to come to us and ...”

A loud sound interrupts the paladin. Korm rushes by as fast as he can, hefting his sword and shouting an orcish war-cry.

The three remaining giants react as well, roaring inarticulately and then rushing at the Gatekeeper. The three of them strike in unison, using their reach to bring their greataxes down on Korm before he can reach them. The Gatekeeper staggers under the impact and then steps into range, hacking at one of the giants. The meteoric blade flashes darkly as it bites home, an enhancement within it drawing life from the target and healing some of the Gatekeeper's wounds, but it's clearly far less than the damage inflicted on him.

“Damn!” Gareth moves forward and then, realizing that he is too slow with his heavy armor, calls upon an enhancement of his own. Large white wings spring from the back of his armor and spread wide. Simultaneously, Six appears out of the shadows nearby, triggering a wand that pops out of a concealed slot in his hand. Feeling the _haste_ take effect, Gareth calls “Thanks” and flaps his way smoothly into the air, rising between the trees and maneuvering to a better position.

Nameless quickly conjures forth a pair of huge earth elementals behind the giants, which hammer at the wounded giant.  Despite the distraction, the three giants—which are by now actually frothing at the mouth in fury—continue their onslaught, hacking away at Korm. Critically wounded, the Gatekeeper continues to fight back, even though it's obviously only a matter of time before he succumbs.

Seeing an opening, Gareth flies in, a sweep of the Endless Blade hamstringing the wounded giant. As his target stumbles backwards and drops to a knee, a perfectly-aimed _fireball_ from Nameless explodes behind it. Already heavily wounded and particularly susceptible to heat, the frost giant soundlessly collapses.

Another of the giants is burned as well, but it remains on its feet, and a sweeping blow from its greataxe finally overpowers Korm's resilience and drops him in a bloodied heap. Seconds later, it falls beside him under the hammering blows of the two elementals' fists and Gareth's sword.

Ignoring its own wounds, the third giant raises its greataxe above the paladin's head and then hesitates, as what seems to be a thick plume of mist appears before it. The foggy shape resolves itself into Six, his spiked chain leaping out again and again, almost too fast for the eye to follow. It smashes into the giant's knuckles and then, even before the greataxe has slipped from the numbed hand, crunches into the mail over his heart, then lays open his throat, and finally punches right through his eye and into the brain beyond. The giant shudders and then slowly collapses. 

Once they have revived Korm and confirmed that there are no other enemies in the immediate area, the Guardian Angels retrace their steps to rejoin Luna, who is just completing her spell when they return. After checking what occurred and complaining again that she didn't get to take part, the druid explains what her _commune with nature_ revealed.

“There's definitely something strange in that area we spotted. There's a gap about five miles across where I can't detect anything. Nothing at all. It was as blank to the spell as an artificial structure would be, but if there was a five mile break in the forest, we'd have seen it. Also, even though the area was blank to me, I detected a strong … a very strong unnatural presence right in the center.”

“That,” Nameless rasps, “must be the Madstone. Good. Now we know exactly where to go.”

Korm chuckles, the experience of a near-fatal battle only having added to his fatalistic sense of humor. “Of course – if we can find the most unnatural thing in a strange, creepy forest, that must be where we're supposed to head.”

“Funny,” grunts Luna, “but that isn't all. I also picked up dozens of unnatural creatures in the area. I mean the nineteen miles in each direction that I could sense. And most of them were heading right for us.”

“It's not surprising,” says Six. “I thought the frost giants were very precise in their direction.” He looks around at the others. “What do we do?”

“Just fly over them and to this Madstone?” suggests Gareth.

“Yes, but I think we should wait a bit,” opines Nameless. “If we wait for some time, it'll draw more of the creatures near the Madstone towards us, and if we then fly towards it, we'll leave more enemies behind.”

The others agree and the Angels cast a few preparatory spells and put themselves into a defensive position. The next half an hour is spent in fighting off assaults by multiple groups of enemies, ranging from a dozen humans wearing only rags and wielding wooden spears to a single overgrown remorhaz.

After having dealt with the latter, Nameless says, “I think we have spent enough time. Let us head on now.” 

The Guardian Angels mount the _phantom steed_s and _stag_s that have been patiently awaiting them and are soon flying over the forest. With the incredible speed of their mounts, within a few minutes they can clearly see the section indicated by Luna, darker and more deeply misty than the rest of the Icewood. 

“Based on what I detected,” Luna calls, leaning toward the others from her _stag_, “it should be right in the center of tha....” 

An instant later, powerful blasts of air explode above and among the riders, smashing them down into the upper branches of the trees below them. Looking down, the Guardian Angels see the sources of the _downdraft_s, a collection of nearly a dozen centaurs, three of them with hands still raised in the aftermath of spellcasting.

Six responds swiftly, using a _haste_ on the group before he dives off his mount into the nearest branches, disappearing into the shadows and mist. Freed of his weight, his startled and wounded mount flies upwards, closely followed by Nameless'. The alienist uses his _steed_'s speed to dart away from the enemies, but casts a _radiant assault_ as he goes. The blast of light strikes three of the newly discovered foes, wounding three and blinding one.

Though two of the spellcasters among the centaurs are wounded, they join the third in calling forth more spells. Two _flame strike_s and an _arc of lightning_, all of them empowered, lash the three remaining Angels  and their mounts. Two of the _stag_s succumb, their magical bodies disappearing and dropping Luna and Korm  painfully a hundred feet to the ground. Gareth's _stag_ survives and the paladin, aided by a _ring of evasion_, is utterly unhurt. 

“Do something – quick!” Gareth yells at the two druids and, hoping to buy some time, casts a _blade barrier_ between them and the closest centaurs. Then he flies down at the three spellcasters, bringing his _stag_ to a halt right next to them, waving the Endless Blade menacingly.

The other eight other centaurs rush forward but, with Gareth's magical _barrier_ in the way, only four can reach the two fallen druids and the blinded one stumbles into a tree. As the centaurs charge in, Luna rises growling to her feet, transforming into her favorite dire bear form and healing some of her wounds. An instant before they reach her, a swift _arc of lightning_ from her strikes two of the centaurs.  They continue, nevertheless, driving their lances against her with brutal power, but the thick ursine hide lessens the impact. Korm, momentarily stunned by the fall, isn't quite as lucky. two lances striking him with bone-shattering force. The Gatekeeper grits his teeth and hurriedly uses one of his newly gained abilities. Rolling over, he touches the trunk of a nearby tree and disappears, only to reappear among the branches far above. Hurriedly grabbing hold to avoid falling, he casts an empowered _flame strike_ of his own, striking three of the centaurs. 

The remaining three centaurs had headed for Gareth and, even though his heavy armor protects him partially from their attacks, the paladin now finds himself surrounded by six of their enemies, including the three spellcasters. “Guys – a little help here?” he shouts.

“Sure,” comes a voice from the mist behind one of the spellcasters and Six appears, spiked chain whirling. The centaur before him cries out at a crunching blow to the back of a rear fetlock, before a second strike smashes into its head. Though blood spurts from the wound, it remains upright. Stumbling away, it hurls a handful of small objects at the warforged. Six dodges reflexively and the _fire seed_s fly by, exploding harmlessly behind him. 

Gareth is less lucky, another caster striking him with a _hypothermia_ spell, though the paladin resists the worst of it. The third spellcaster raises a hand to cast – and then simply implodes. Nameless flies back into sight above, just completing a spell of his own, and a black, featureless sphere of darkness* appears right where the unfortunate centaur was, its body collapsing into the globe. He follows up with a swift _cloudkill_, enveloping one of the spellcasters and two more centaurs.

Gareth seizes the opportunity and urges his _stag_ forward. The sole spellcaster in sight doesn't even have a chance to cry out before the Endless Blade neatly decapitates it.

Luna waves an appreciative paw at Nameless and then leaps forward, bowling over one of the four attackers around her with her bulk, biting and clawing as they roll over on the ground. Seconds later she rises, covered in blood from the corpse at her feet. The three remaining centaurs near her charge in, but it's clear that the wounds they are capable of inflicting will not enough to drop her unless they have a great deal of time. Which one of them clearly does not, after Korm—not wanting to miss out on the pleasures of melee combat despite his wounds—simply leaps out his tree and lands blade-first on it. 

The battle speeds to its inevitable conclusion, the Angels only being incommoded slightly when the last spellcaster manages to emerge from the _cloudkill_ and bring a _icometfall_ down on Luna and Korm**. But it's not enough to bring either of them down, and the caster falls an instant later under Gareth's sword. Six, Luna and Korm each bring down another enemy and Nameless propels his destructive globe into the last one, bringing silence to the battlefield.

Luna—covered in blood and bruises, fur scorched and still smoking in places—looks around at the carnage and then laughs. “That was awesome!” 

“I'm glad you were pleased,” says Nameless dryly, bringing his _steed_ to a landing on the ground beside her. “Let's move on quickly before we have to enjoy more such entertainment.”

A few minutes later, the Angels float down into a wide bowl-shaped indentation in the forest floor, about thirty feet deep and two hundred feet across. It is littered with various bodies, the result of _fire storm_s from Luna and Korm, backed up by a few spells from Gareth and Nameless. All that stands in the bowl is the huge gray stone at its center, a full fifty feet in height and almost equally wide, Its jagged surface seems utterly unaffected by the spells that just roared around and across it, as are the varied dragonshards that stick out of it.

Luna growls as she steps down to the ground. “Dragonshards! Why is it always dragonshards?”

“Because the universe wants to mess with you,” chuckles Korm, but then the smile disappears. “Is it just me or is anyone else hearing … whispering?”

“I can hear it too,”  says Gareth, and the others confirm the same. The paladin looks at Nameless. “What's the plan?”

“I think we're all safe thanks to the _mind blank_s,” the alienist replies, “so we probably have some time. Probably. I'd like to see what I can learn about the stone and then … we'll see.”

“I love it when you're crystal clear, Nameless,” grunts Luna sarcastically. 

Ignoring the comment, the alienist walks around the stone, studying it carefully. Then he casts an _analyze dweomer_ and examines it again. After a few moments, he says, “It is definitely warpstone, as I surmised. It seems to contain many consciousnesses, but they're not … for want of a better term, _true_ consciousnesses. More akin to imprints retained within the stone. However, for whatever reason, they now function as something like a hive-mind of sorts. And the stone hungers for more consciousnesses. I am fairly certain that if we could transport it to the location of Antaratma's ritual, it would function as a disruptive influence, since it would try to draw in the soul energy. And I could probably use it as a weapon against the daelkyr.”

“Move it?” Luna gestures at the gigantic stone. “You think we can move it?”

“Possibly. But first I will have to take control of the consciousnesses within.” 

“How do you plan to do that?”

“I'm going to drop my _mind blank_, make mental contact with the stone and try to gain control of it. If that goes badly,” the alienist smiles thinly, “I have a cunning plan.”

“That simple, huh?” grins Korm.

“Of course,” Nameless replies dryly, but then he glances around the group thoughtfully. “In the interests of safety, I would like to link all of us mentally before I contact the stone, since I will be able to use our connection and the power within each of you to better resist whatever assaults the stone makes upon my psyche.” 

After a little more discussion, the Guardian Angels decide that all of them will be linked with a _telepathic bond_, with Gareth and Luna dropping their _mind blank_s too. Korm and Six will retain theirs, so that at least a couple of them will be hopefully immune to mental intrusion and control. 

Having made the decision, Nameless creates the _bond_ and then calls forth Khat'vanga, having it appear on the Madstone. There is no response from the stone before them, so the alienist removes his _mind blank_ and then draws fully upon his connection with Xoriat. His body shifts as it normally does when he manifests the Aspect of Cyäegha and he calls forth his unique spell, the _armor of Xoriat_. Immediately, tiny manifestations of the actual layers of the plane of madness begin to whirl and flow around his body.

Now fully prepared, Nameless transmits, _“Now!”_ Luna and Gareth promptly dismiss their _mind blank_s and the alienist reaches out to touch the Madstone.


* Sphere of Ultimate Destruction (from Spell Compendium)


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## carborundum

Now we're really getting somewhere  Great fights as usual - you butt kicking 19th level heroes, you!

Loved the interesting spell choices, Shil. I just swapped out a bunch of my bad guy spells to add downdraft and cometfall


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Now we're really getting somewhere  Great fights as usual - you butt kicking 19th level heroes, you!




I didn't expect those fights to be too challenging (only EL19 each, though as usual they were pretty tough for their level), but even so the PCs handled them very well. And it's not a patch on the stuff they do subsequently.



> Loved the interesting spell choices, Shil. I just swapped out a bunch of my bad guy spells to add downdraft and cometfall




Those are both nasty spells for their level (esp. Downdraft). Check out Bombardment too. The power level disparity between the Spell Compendium and the core spells is a little high, IME, and gets higher as you go up in level.


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## Furby076

shilsen said:


> I didn't expect those fights to be too challenging (only EL19 each, though as usual they were pretty tough for their level), but even so the PCs handled them very well. And it's not a patch on the stuff they do subsequently.




One of Shils talents is to take "core" material and make kick butt enemies, though he also throws in choice material from other books.  One of Shils weaknesses is his ability to pre-judge if an encounter will be suitable for the group. Consequently our "death" count in this campaign is high. Shil keeps a record, but I think we come out to almost a death a session. The only thing that prevents this true death are certain in-house rules to minimize it. That rule had to come about because, well, we would have way too many deaths.


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## shilsen

AviLazar said:


> One of Shils weaknesses is his ability to pre-judge if an encounter will be suitable for the group.




You're assuming the amount of difficulty isn't precisely what I intended 



> Consequently our "death" count in this campaign is high. Shil keeps a record, but I think we come out to almost a death a session. The only thing that prevents this true death are certain in-house rules to minimize it. That rule had to come about because, well, we would have way too many deaths.




Actually, it was almost exactly one per two sessions (49 in 101 sessions, to be precise). 

Which is just about where I wanted it to be in terms of difficulty and PCs going down. I've grown to like combat (as both DM and player) to be akin to what one sees in superhero comics with ensemble casts, where any serious fight will have at least one or two members of the team go down (preferably after having a distinct effect on the battle), leaving the others scrambling to win. Unfortunately, D&D (or, more precisely, 3e) gives you a very narrow window of 10 hp between being unconscious and being dead, which is utterly negligible at higher levels. Pathfinder only slightly moderates that. So in both the Guardian Angels game and our Kingmaker game, there's a pretty good chance that if a PC goes down they're dead. Our "down but not dead" house rule works well to ameliorate that issue.


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## carborundum

"down but not dead" - how did that go again?


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> "down but not dead" - how did that go again?



Pretty simple, actually. A PC who goes down to -10 HP or below doesn't die, but can't be revived until after the end of the encounter. The only way they would die is if an enemy subsequently tried to _coup de grace_ them.


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## Furby076

shilsen said:


> Pretty simple, actually. A PC who goes down to -10 HP or below doesn't die, but can't be revived until after the end of the encounter. The only way they would die is if an enemy subsequently tried to _coup de grace_ them.




Aren't there also long term repercussions? The PC suffers a negative level until the group levels up, and then they are restored to normal?


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## shilsen

Furby076 said:


> Aren't there also long term repercussions? The PC suffers a negative level until the group levels up, and then they are restored to normal?



We used that at one point, but not throughout.


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## Furby076

shilsen said:


> We used that at one point, but not throughout.




Ahh, I didn't realize you got rid of it.

The unfortunate side of going down in combat, is that combat lasts hours. Typically what happens:

Luna  - Goes to sleep
Nameless - Plays WoW or goes home (lives within walking distance of me)
Korm - Pays attention to the game, or plays on his iPhone
Gareth - Surfs the net, calls a girl, goes into his bedroom and takes a nap, or gets a snack for people (it's my place)


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## shilsen

There is no visible effect as Nameless' hand touches the rough surface of the Madstone, but the Guardian Angels—their minds connected via the _telepathic bond_—instantly sense a response. The consciousnesses—or, according to the alienist, facsimiles of true consciousness—contained within it leap forth, attempting to seize and control Nameless' mind. However, unguarded though it might be by a _mind blank_, the alienist's sense of will is far too strong to be thus ruled, especially thanks to his familiarity with creatures and things of Xoriat, as the gigantic hunk of warpstone is. And, to his amusement, he realizes that the entity which is the Madstone, being simultaneously comprised of and used to the various humanoid and other mortal minds that it has fed on, is struggling to comprehend his consciousness. With an internal chuckle and a mental effort*, he shrugs off the attack.

The Angels all hear the equivalent of an angry roar inside their heads, wordless and containing myriad tones within it, and momentarily sense the Madstone questing back and forth, like a temporarily baffled beast seeking out easier prey. Its touch flashes over the surface of Korm's and Six's minds, both warded by _mind blank_s, and then over Gareth's, shielded by the Silver Flame against possession and control. Finally, it comes to Luna, benefiting from none of these protections – and it springs.

The Gatekeeper staggers back, grabbing at her head as a sharp pain shoots through it**, feeling her thoughts go fuzzy. Luckily, the mental link provides the others with certain options as well. Feeling the mental attack on Luna, Gareth hurriedly interposes, instinctively using his training as an exorcist and drawing on the touch of the Silver Flame within each of them. After a struggle that only lasts a second but feels much longer, the Madstone again draws back. 

The angry roar within the Guardian Angels' conjoined minds is much louder this time – and it comes with a more obvious retort. A spiderweb of cracks quickly runs up the sides of the Madstone and, with a rumbling sound, two large segments of it come free and tumble to the ground. A moment later, their surfaces flow and reshape as they begin to rise, reforming into vaguely humanoid shapes that resemble earth elementals, each forty feet tall and proportionately broad. 

Gareth immediately grabs at the Endless Blade, using it to call down a _dispel magic_ that strikes the area within which the Madstone-elementals are rising, but there is no effect. “Damn!” Hurriedly he calls forth a _blur_ effect to protect himself too. Six too takes the defensive option, hurriedly pulling out a scroll while the shadows stream out of his armor, activating it and increasing his speed.

Korm, conversely, takes the offensive route, albeit pausing to cast a swift _greater blink_ before he rushes in. His meteoric sword strikes with less effectiveness that he hoped, but it still bites deep into the rocky surface of one of the creatures, causing drops of gray fluid to leak from the wound. New allies appear around the Gatekeeper as Luna calls forth three huge earth elementals to try and hedge off the ones brought forth by the Madstone. 

One of the Madstone's servitors swings back at the summoned elementals as they hammer at it, clearly hitting with more power. The other brings its massive fists down on Korm with terrific force, cracking ribs with the impact.

Nameless, meanwhile, has remained where he is with one hand touching the Madstone. Despite the abrupt change in the situation, the alienist smiles thinly. Only pausing to rasp, “Keep them off me for a few seconds,” he then enacts what he called his cunning plan. With a single word, Nameless activates the _contingency_ spell that he had prepared and cast earlier this day for just such a moment, bringing forth the linked magic. Though he remains aware of what is occurring around him, part of his consciousness leaps across vast gulfs of space, drawn by the _contact other plane_ he activated. From somewhere in the endless depths of Xoriat, he feels Cyäegha's will touch his. 

“What are you doing?” asks Gareth, as he casts a _righteous wrath of the faithful_ to empower the group, followed by a swift _divine favor_. Near him, Six echoes the question, while he _haste_s everyone. Luna, attempting a targeted _greater dispel_ on one of the creatures and achieving nothing, while she sees one of her summoned elementals crumbling swiftly under its blows, growls, “Yeah! We need help here.” 

“I'm,” Nameless replies, his gaze slightly glassy from the effort of balancing all of the sensory input he is receiving from many quarters, “calling in some backup!” 

“I hope it gets here quick,” grunts Korm, spitting up blood as he speaks. As another tremendous blow almost drops him, the Gatekeeper emits a frustrated growl, “Sorry – I'm out!” Then he calls forth a _rejuvenation cocoon_ around himself.

Within his mind, Nameless feels the All-Seeing Eye gaze through him at the surrounding scene. It seems to be, for lack of a better word, amused. The alienist is mentally attempting to ensure that none of the terrible sensation of being in contact with Cyäegha's will filters through to his companions, but he makes no such effort where the Madstone is concerned, and he feels the myriad consciousnesses that constitute the latter trying to retreat as it realizes what he is doing.

Simultaneously, the Madstone commands its protectors to destroy the greatest danger to itself. They surge forward toward the alienist. Luna hurls herself into their path and, with the aid of her elementals, manages to halt one of the creatures. The other, however, smashes the interposing figure of Gareth out of the way, utterly ignores a blow from Six's chain and reaches Nameless. Looming over him, it brings a tremendous blow down on the alienist.

Nameless collapses to a knee, feeling as if his left arm is broken, but he keeps his right hand pressed to the Madstone. Looking up at the monolith and its giant protector, the alienist grins viciously. “Here!” And he opens up his mind utterly, forming himself into a conduit. And Cyäegha reaches through him into the Madstone.

Nameless feels an instant of incredible pressure inside his mind, as the two consciousnesses meet. There is a tiny second of what can only loosely be called conflict. The entity that is the Madstone is the result of hundreds, if not thousands, of minds leaving their imprints on a stony form that is the crystallized essence of chaos. And Cyäegha is one of the Great Old Ones, existing beyond time and space and rational meaning in a dark space of the plane of madness where even the 'normal' denizens of Xoriat fear to go. There is no contest.

The alienist hears a shriek inside his head as Cyäegha blasts past the Madstone's defenses without effort, greedily rummaging through the memories and information contained within. And then he is flying through the air, flung far away by a giant paroxysm that runs through the Madstone. As he hits the ground, Nameless sees the shivering stone fall quiescent. Simultaneously, the two creatures it had called forth collapse to the ground, dissolving swiftly into sludge.

As Nameless climbs back to his feet and walks back toward the Madstone, the other Guardian Angels look around warily. Finally, when certain that the threat is ended, they sheath weapons and look at the alienist curiously. Korm, having emerged fully healed from his _cocoon_, asks, “So what was that all about?”

Nameless touches the surface of the Madstone and smiles at what he senses—or rather fails to sense—within. “Oh, nothing,” he answers. “Just educating it about who's boss. And obtaining us a giant piece of warpstone.”

* * *
Once they have the Madstone under their control, the Angels discuss what to do with it until they need to call on it. After some discussion, they decide to store it in a remote location of the Frostfell, the frozen wasteland far to the north of Khorvaire. 

Though none of them have been there previously, Luna is able to use a _move earth_ spell to transport the group to an area of the Frostfell, after having taken the form of a tendriculos and strapped the now quiescent monolith to her giant back.

The Angels arrive in the middle of a frigid waste, bereft of any visible life. Not wanting to take any risks of discovery or of having the Madstone tampered with, Nameless casts an _antipathy_ on it, designed to keep animals away from it.

“Aren't there anything besides animals here?” asks Luna curiously, quickly growing impatient of watching the alienist cast the hour-long spell. “What about … ice elves?”

 “Maybe,” grins Gareth. “Who knows?”

“Ooh!” Luna promptly turns and moves away, calling out in elven. “Is anyone there? Ice elves? Yoohoo?”***

“So,” says Korm, looking after her, “this is probably the first time the Frostfell has seen a tendriculos walking around it, especially one looking for ice elves.” Then he frowns thoughtfully. “Are there actually any ice elves?”

“I do not know,” says Six flatly, “but with our luck, she'll probably come back with a collection of ice gnomes.”

“Aaah!” Korm hurriedly draws his sword and looks around, only half-joking in his response.

Luckily, Luna finds neither ice elves nor ice gnomes, and Nameless eventually finishes his spell. Once he is done, the Angels pile snow over the Madstone and then depart the spot.

Before returning to the Gray House, they proceed to their home—or, more precisely, ruined estate—in Karrnath, which they have not visited in a long while. Its undisturbed status is still exactly the same, but just in case anyone comes there seeking to attack them, the Angels place a series of traps there. Nameless sets up the most powerful of them – a well-concealed _teleportation circle_, designed to transport anyone walking over it to an underground cave far away, which has no exits. 

Then they finally return to Sharn and settle down for the night and the supposed arrival of Essirise from Argonnessen.

* * * * *
The next morning, the Guardian Angels do receive a _sending_ from Essirise: _“Reaching Khorvaire today with Light of Siberys battalion. Need to arrive in secluded place. Find one and I shall scry you there in six hours.”_ 

“Ooh – a battalion from the dragon army? This should be cool!” says Luna excitedly. “Ask her how big and secluded the place should be!” 

After the question is asked, another _sending_ arrives a dozen minutes later, saying that the main thing is for the Angels to ensure that nobody but them will be available to see them. The Angels decide to pick a location on the Brelish border with the Mournland, since that is an area that the dragons will presumably accompany them into.

After the Angels arrive at the chosen spot, they are joined five minutes later by Essirise, who is in the elven form that she usually wears when not in her own. Accompanying her are four individuals – a female orc, a male human, a male elf, and a female dwarf. The new arrivals look around and then the orc asks, speaking in draconic, “Is this them?” When Essirise confirms that these are the Guardian Angels, the orcish woman says brusquely to them, “Stand back.”

Then she begins to transform, growing swiftly and dramatically until a huge gold dragon stands in her place, looming over the Angels. Essirise does so as well, taking on her natural shape of a silver dragon. The remaining three become huge red, bronze and green dragons. Naturally, their clothing disappears, but each of them is left wearing some magical items. Nameless, thanks to his permanent _arcane sight_, picks up very powerful auras on them, ranging from embedded gems that protect them, to enhancements on their fangs and claws, to a _ring of three wishes_ worn by the gold dragon.

While the alienist is studying the dragons and their possessions, Luna says excitedly, “Hah! We can do that too!” She promptly transforms into a huge fire elemental, causing Korm to scoff and change shape as well. Cloaker wings spring from the Gatekeeper's back and his face lengthens, its lower end extending into tentacles like a mind flayer. 

Nameless looks quizzically at Korm for a moment and says, "You know you look just like ... ah, never mind."

The gold dragon, which is slightly larger than the others, sniffs disdainfully and then rumbles, “You may call me Bhirali. Who is your leader?” 

Luna promptly raises a flaming hand, causing Korm to chortle and Gareth to choke just a little bit.

“I see,” says Bhirali, eyeing the other Angels for a moment. “What can you tell me about the situation and your plans?”

Before Luna can respond, Nameless rasps, “If I may speak for our leader …?” Luna chuckles and waves her hand in permission, so the alienist continues, providing a quick summation of what the Angels have discovered and the resources they have at hand, as well as their plan to enter the Mournland and disrupt the ritual as best they can.

When he is done, Bhirali snorts, causing tongues of flame to appear at her nostrils. “This seems disorganized. So you have no real plan?”

“Disorganized?” Luna yells, waving her giant flaming arms in great dudgeon. “What the hell?! We're fighting a planar invasion of crazy, weird aberrations, dropping islands here and tsunamis there, and … and you just got here and have done nothing and you say we're DISORGANIZED?!”

“Oh, man!” mutters Korm, “She's going to get us eaten.”

Bhirali does seem about to respond poorly, but Essirise hurriedly interposes, actually stepping between the gold dragon and the giant fire elemental. “Excuse me, Bhirali, but may I speak to the Angels?” Without waiting for a response, she steps forward, literally shepherding the Angels away from the other dragons.

Once they are a short distance away, Essirise hisses urgently, “Listen – you have to be patient with Bhirali. Remember, the Light of Siberys very rarely works with non-dragons, and the Conclave certainly doesn't send battalions off to work with anyone. So Bhirali has no real experience working with people like you, and she's expecting to work by her own rules. But she and the others will be very helpful.”

“Yeah, well,” Luna grumbles, “she could be more polite! And I thought you said you'd bring a battalion?”

Essirise chuckles at that. “They're four dragons, all a few centuries old. Trust me – that's a battalion!”

“She does have a point,” says Korm. “Remember Xagygyrag? That guy alone was an army!”

Luna grunts, but agrees to try to bear whatever Bhirali says with patience. As she is doing so, Gareth asks, “Where's Six?” He looks around. “And … why is he chatting with Bhirali?”

The five of them turn and hurry back to the Argonnessen dragons, who are standing around and listening to Six. As they approach, they hear the warforged saying, “So, you see, there is a plan. But, for the sake of your sanity, don't ask about it or try to explain any of your plans to them. Really!”

A couple of the listening dragons snort, but their amusement is clear in the sound. The warforged inclines his head to them and then walks over to his companions.

“What were you doing?” asks Korm curiously. 

“Oh, just warning them about all of you,” Six replies.

With the tension between the two groups of allies significantly lower, Essirise begins to speak quickly, explaining more about the situation from the Conclave's side. She says that in view of the news she took back about Mual-Tar and the demise of the Silver Flame, the Conclave decided that they would send this particular battalion to aid the Angels, with orders that no other dragons from Argonnessen would get involved in the war against Xoriat. 

She also says that while the daelkyr and Xoriat have never been an issue for the dragons, she and others in the Chamber have been able to do some significant research on these subjects. This research has been facilitated by gaining access to some of the information obtained from the Black Well, for which she thanks the Guardian Angels, since it was their actions that led to the recovery of Khesavuthir. Thanks to this research, she corroborates what the Guardian Angels know about the timing of the upcoming ritual, saying it is a particularly propitious day for powerful magic, even in Argonnessen. 

Essirise then says that, based on what she has seen and been told, even with the presence of the dragons the Angels will need to mobilize large forces at short notice, so to that end she has obtained a powerful magical item that will help. 

Having said that, Essirise transforms into her elven form and produces what looks like a large pair of interlocking platinum rings, each about a foot in diameter. Four smaller platinum rings are interlaced with them, two in each of the larger rings. All six rings are set with tiny dragonshards in intricate patterns, and Nameless immediately detects them to be of overwhelming power.

Lifting them in her hands so that the others can see clearly, Essirise pulls on the rings and they smoothly come apart. She says, “These are called _gate ring_s. They are immensely powerful, but you can only use them once, so you will need to think carefully about how—and with whom—you do so.” Handing the larger rings over to Nameless, she continues, “A mage like you, who can cast a _gate_ spell, can keep one of the large rings and place the other in a location where supporting forces exist – or give it to an ally who will be there. When you cast _gate_ into the ring in your possession, it will open a gigantic portal linked to the location of the other ring, one large enough for at least hundreds, if not thousands, of your people to pass through at once, though the portal will only last for a few seconds.”

“These,” she adds, lifting one of the small rings, “can be given to four individual allies. When you use the larger ring, a smaller portal will appear next to each of the people who bear these rings, allowing them—and only them—to pass through to your location immediately.” Handing them over, she concludes, “I suggest that you use these to bring allies into the Mournland, bringing them right where you need them.”

Bhirali rumbles, “Make certain to use them wisely. The crafting of those rings took longer than one of your lifetimes.”

“We will,” says Nameless succinctly, studying the artifacts while he visualizes the long list of powerful individuals that the Guardian Angels know and considers who might be the best options for the small rings.

Bhirali nods. Then she says curtly that she and the others will establish a camp in this area and remain in contact with the Angels via _sending_, since she has absolutely no intention of staying in a human settlement, especially since that would require taking on humanoid forms again, which some of the draconic party cannot naturally do and must use spells for. 

She also asks for information about the Mournland, saying that she and her companions will scout into the area. The Angels spend a short time trying to explain why that is a bad idea but quickly give up when it is clear that she is not to be persuaded. 

After a little more discussion, the Angels take their leave of the dragons and _teleport_ back to the Gray House. There, they make some plans for the next day, contact some of their allies via _sending_s, and then settle down for the night. Clearly the next couple of days are going to be very busy.


* Two natural 19s on the Will and Int check I asked for.

** Natural 1 on her Int check


----------



## Furby076

I enjoyed this particular write up


----------



## carborundum

Wow - totally missed that update! Great stuff - and nice shiny toys too - can't wait to see what you do with them


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## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> Wow - totally missed that update! Great stuff - and nice shiny toys too - can't wait to see what you do with them




They don't come into play 'till the big fight, but things like them are essentially always just window dressing. They may make things somewhat easier when the big fight comes, but they never determine the outcome on their own.

From what I've observed, their real effect is almost always after the fight and how things play out once the main battle is decided.

Like with the Tsunami we created to wipe out the main aberration army. It made precisely no difference to the outcome of the fight or what happened with the battle in the Silver Flame chamber, but it did mean that the main aberration army was shattered and didn't threaten anything else once it was all done.

Another good example is the Planetar we went to a fair amount of trouble to summon with the staff we got from the dragon. He was removed as a factor in the fight essentially immediately. I'm not sure exactly how things would have played out afterward with Aunty (the Daelkyr), but if we had won that fight, it might have been him coming out with Aunty's head, instead of the other way around.

i suspect that we are about 2 posts, maybe 1 from my second favorite moment of the campaign though. Shil is quite busy with a summer course he's teaching for at least another week or two. So I wouldn't expect an update any time real soon.


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:


> i suspect that we are about 2 posts, maybe 1 from my second favorite moment of the campaign though. Shil is quite busy with a summer course he's teaching for at least another week or two. So I wouldn't expect an update any time real soon.




What he said. I'm going to be busy with stuff for the semester till about the 18th of August, so it'll be a bit after that before I can update next.


----------



## carborundum

No rush - though I'm very curious as to this amazing moment 

Have we had the first most amazing moment yet, or is it also still in the wings?


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## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> No rush - though I'm very curious as to this amazing moment
> 
> Have we had the first most amazing moment yet, or is it also still in the wings?




Not amazing, just my second favorite moment.

First was 

“You’re white. That’s good – it’ll match our drapes.” 

Most amazing was winning an argument with Luna.


----------



## shilsen

Sure enough, the Guardian Angels have barely begun breakfast the next morning when they are interrupted by a commotion and the faint sounds of combat in the distance. Only moments later, their unfortunate neighbors see Korm and Six zooming by, seemingly seated on something unseen (namely Luna in the form of an invisible, flying earth elemental). Nameless and Gareth soar in their wake, the large white wings extending from the paladin's armor gleaming in the morning sun. 

The source of the commotion is half a dozen mindflayers and thrice as many dolgaunts, who are currently rampaging through one of Sharn's large open-air markets. As is habitual in the City of Towers, the market is actually centered inside one of the larger towers, extending outwards to the large balconies, huge buttresses and multiple bridges extending from it. Citizens are fleeing in every direction, with a few city guards attempting to simultaneously engage the attackers but stay at a safe distance. 

“Oh, good!” growls Luna as she soars around an intervening tower and spots the enemies. “I could use a little morning exercise!”

“Same here,” says Korm, extending cloaker-wings from his back in preparation for having to dismount from his gigantic companion.

“Don't be too hasty,” warns Nameless, looking around for additional unseen foes as the Angels fly in. “This attack doesn't make sense, particularly considering they must know we are in Sharn. It's a diversion or feint of some sort.” 

“Whatever. Let us know when you work out the reason,” says Luna, hurling herself forward.

Despite the alienist's reservations, her allies follow suit. Having spotted them, a couple of the mindflayers hurl spells at them, but to little avail. The Angels unleash a barrage in response, which leaves the casters wounded and kills multiple dolgaunts, before charging into the aberration ranks.

While the other four all rush into melee, Nameless hovers a good fifty feet away from the closest enemies. His enhanced vision flickers over his foes, noticing the expected magical auras on their items and persons – and something else. _“There's definitely something odd going on,”_ he transmits quickly over the _telepathic bond_ linking him to the other Angels. _“Each mindflayer has a strong conjuration aura in its chest. I suspect a...”_

Before he can hazard a theory, Gareth finds a way to confirm what it is. Having flown right up to a hastily retreating mindflayer, the paladin smites him mightily, driving the Endless Blade right through the unfortunate creature's skull. The mindflayer collapses instantly – and then implodes, leaving not a shred of itself behind.

“Huh? Did you see what …,” the paladin begins, quickly turning to his allies, only to see each of the other mindflayers, including ones which have not even been touched, similarly implode. “Um – did I just kill them _all_?”

“Maybe, but there's something else going on,” says Six, his permanent _see invisibility_ allowing him to see a faint glow where each mindflayer had been moments ago, a glow which promptly shoots towards each of the others.

Nameless too can see them, and his permanent _arcane sight_ provides further insight, as does his prodigious intellect. Almost without conscious thought, he realizes what the pulses of energy are connecting to form. “Careful – it's a _gate_!”

The others, beside Six, cannot see what the alienist is looking at, but they do see the immediate result of it. Each of the dolgaunts now explodes, their demise much messier than the mindflayers', strewing blood and flesh around them. All that remains is a flash of life energy, which only Nameless sees shoot into the newly formed _gate_.

All of the Angels, however, do see what steps through it. Five figures, consisting of a trio followed by a pair. The three in front are trumpet archons, or were formerly so, since leathery wings resembling Korm’s hang where large feathery pinions once were, and worms protrude from the holes which used to hold celestial eyes. Behind them stand two mindflayers, with the characteristically amputated facial tentacles and embedded dragonshards.

“It's – THEM!” Luna roars, recognizing the creatures which she had barely survived fighting at the ziggurat, having to flee with her four companions lying dead behind her.

_“And they're ready for us, like last time,”_ Nameless' mental voice rasps over the _link_, seeing half a dozen magical auras on each of the enemies. He calls upon his link to the plane of madness, the _armor of Xoriat_ appearing around him instantly. _“This time, let's coordinate atta....”_

Before the alienist can finish the sentence, just as in the battle at the ziggurat, Gareth charges forward with a loud war-cry and smites the closest of the former archons. His target staggers, dark blood gushing from the deep gash across its chest, but it remains upright.

_Wonderful!_, Nameless thinks in exasperation. _You can lead a paladin to the battle but you can't make it use tactics._ For an instant, as the mindflayers and archons move to respond in practiced unison, the Angels expect to see Gareth cut down by the archons' greatswords as he was at the ziggurat. Luckily for the paladin, the aberrations choose a more expansive approach, instead hurling a series of spells at the Angels at large. Even more luckily, the Angels are no longer what they once were when they last fought these enemies. Recreated by the secret dragon magic of Argonnessen, imbued with the essence of the Silver Flame, the Guardian Angels—individually and collectively—now wield a degree of power that is far beyond the scope of even these elite aberrations, powerful as they are*.

As the two mindflayers cast what most of the Angels recognize as _chain dispel_s, Nameless and Korm simultaneously draw on their _rings of greater counterspells_ to try and block the enemy spells. The alienist causes one to dissipate before it can strike him and his allies, but the Gatekeeper fails, so drastically that even a swift mental tweaking of the odds in his favor by Nameless is to no avail.** The Angels each feel themselves lose a couple of protective spells, but not enough to make a real difference.

The same is true as each of the archons unleashes a spell designed to turn the target's _blood to water_***. All of the Angels (including Six, who finds the alchemical fluids flowing through his fibers equally affected) are weakened, but none of them dramatically so. And as the spells strike Nameless, his _armor of Xoriat_ has one of its random effects, causing one to bounce to Luna, while reflecting two of them back at their casters, who are also affected. Nevertheless, the archons follow up with swift spells, casting a _dimensional anchor_ each on Gareth and Korm, while the one Gareth smote heals himself. 

While the _anchor_s may make fleeing more difficult, it's not as if the Angels intend to. Reassured by the fact that they are all still on their feet and relatively hale, they respond with a far more effective barrage. Luna casts a swift _assay resistance_ and drops an empowered _arc of lightning_ on the three archons, hurting two of them. Korm copies her first spell and then unleashes a _horrid wilting_, wounding all five of the enemies. 

Yet far deadlier and damaging is Nameless' riposte, the alienist ripping wide a section of the planar fabric around the enemies and letting Xoriat reach forth to them. Aberrations though they are, his foes are not powerful enough to resist the effects of the _maw of chaos_, which rips away parts of their bodies. One of the archons, already badly wounded, stumbles and falls, its form swiftly dissolving into bloody shreds of flesh and bone. 

Six, tactically deciding to leave the initial attacks to the others, quickly _haste_s everyone with the wand buried inside his metallic forearm and then calls out, “Gareth – hit them before they can recover!” The paladin obeys, unleashing a brutal blow with a prayer to the Silver Flame, utilizing a divine ability that lets him draw health from his wounded foe and heal himself. 

Though the attack doesn't drop his target, it does leave him seriously wounded, and the aberrations have other issues to worry about. While the four of them have managed to retain their footing against the still-swirling vortex that is Nameless' spell, one archon and a mindflayer are so discombobulated by the effort that they are temporarily rendered incapable of spellcasting. The other mindflayer staggers out of the area of effect and desperately casts a _forcecage_ around Korm and Gareth, while the second archon moves out as well and casts a _heal_ on itself.

As the archon straightens, all of its wounds now healed, multiple tons of charging elemental slam into it, Luna's huge bulk lifting it off its feet and hurling it right back into the _maw of chaos_. While not taking quite as precipitous an approach, Six enlarges himself so that he too towers hugely over his foes and moves to block the escape of the mindflayer.

Nameless smirks at the state of their enemies and rasps, “I must really thank you for coming after us. This is quite enjoyable! Please don't leave.” He then drops a swift _solid fog_ on most of the enemies, holding them in place within the _maw_, before causing the magical walls of force imprisoning Korm and Gareth to _disintegrate_.

“Ah, dammit – Nameless! I can't see them now,” grunts Korm, before grinning. “Not that I need to.” A swift spell**** lets him 'see' what is occurring inside the _fog_ and he steps closer, carefully taking aim. The unfortunate archon, unable to see his advance, has no defense as the Gatekeeper drives his meteoric blade forward. It bites deeply, but the archon barely manages to stay on its feet – till Korm activates the bloodstone in the sword's hilt and the empowered _vampiric touch_ placed within draws out what remains of its life.

Gareth, not having the same ability but able to gauge where the last archon is thanks to Luna's position, attacks into the _fog_ as well. One of his blows hits only air, but the backswing culminates satisfyingly in flesh and a pained groan. A second later, the Angels hear the sound of spellcasting, as the mindflayer within the _fog_ decides the battle is a  lost cause and _teleport_s away.

The remaining mindflayer makes a desperate, if utterly foolish, attempt to _dispel_ the spells in the area, but neither the _solid fog_ nor the _maw of chaos_ are affected. Before it can do anything else, Six's chain catches it in the head, again and again and again, till it collapses in a heap.

From the sounds of it, the archon within the _solid fog_ is again affected by the winds of Xoriat, but Luna doesn't bother waiting to find out, bringing another empowered _flame strike_ down on its location for good measure. The sounds stop.

The Guardian Angels look around the battlefield and then exchange pleased smiles. Luna looks at the corpses, grunts dismissively and then looks around at her friends. “See – I told you that if you'd just tried harder last time you wouldn't have died!”

Only one of the Angels is neither smiling, nor even really paying any attention to the battle's end. While the others indulge in a certain degree of backslapping and self-congratulation over the fact that they utterly crushed the enemies who had handed them their worst defeat, Nameless is not so easily pleased.

The alienist paces back and forth, his concentration focused wholly on one thing – revenge. As he wracks his brains, working swiftly through myriad options, one hand tightly clasps the sentient stone Edgar, which he mutters to as he often does. “Think, you fool – THINK! You are one of the most powerful arcanists to walk the surface of Eberron. There _must_ be a way to track it down before it can reach safety. I will NOT allow it to escape! My vengeance must be complete, Edgar – I must have … wait … ah, yes – of course … it is really so simple … so utterly simple after ….”

A moment later, the rest of the Guardian Angels hear a sickening, gurgling sound and hurriedly turn to see Nameless hunched over and convulsing. It takes a moment to realize that the nauseating sound is actually the alienist laughing, a sound that none of them have heard before – or, now that they have, want to hear again. For once, Nameless has completely dropped the facade of normality that he adopts even with his companions, letting them see through to the incomprehensible madness within. 

“Umm, Nameless?” begins Gareth, after exchanging troubled looks with the others. “Are you ...”

Before he can say any more, the alienist straightens, his 'mirth' forgotten as the facade drops back into place. “Korm!” he snaps peremptorily, striding forward and past the others, eyes seeking for the spot from which the mindflayer had fled. “Hit me with a targeted spell of the seventh valence!”

“But ...”

“NOW!” the alienist shouts and, with a shrug, the Gatekeeper complies. The _absorption_ that Nameless had cast before the battle drinks in the magical power, the alienist feeling the presence of the additional energy in his mind. Having found what he wants, Nameless kneels and touches his tentacle to a few drops of blood on the stone, drawn from the surviving mindflayer before it fled. He then casts a _greater scrying_. And smiles viciously.

“Everyone gather around. We're going after the last mindflayer.”

“Really? Well ...”

“I don't give up that easily,” Nameless interrupts. “And it's time we finished this. Make sure he does not escape, but his life is _mine_!”

Moments later, the unfortunate mindflayer—standing within a tunnel deep within the bowels of Khyber—gapes in horror as the Guardian Angels appear right next to it. Before it can respond in any way, Nameless gestures and casts a spell, his ring flaring with power. The mindflayer screams, glowing green for an instant as the empowered maximized _disintegrate_ strikes, and collapses into a small puff of dust. 

“Damn!” says Luna, looking at the alienist. “You _really_ took that revenge thing seriously.”

Nameless shrugs. “It did kill me … us. I,” his face twists into a grim smile, “take that sort of thing personally.”


* The PCs are 19th level at this point and basically off the chart, while the NPCs were CR16 each (bumped up from CR 14 at the ziggurat battle). Poor guys never had a chance 

** Korm rolled a natural 1 on the counterspell check, so Nameless used a PrC (Fatespinner) ability to let him reroll it – which he did with a natural 4.

*** That's a really powerful SC spell, doing 2d6 Con damage (save for half) to five living creatures in close range, within 30 ft of each other. I wouldn't even allow it in a game unless with PCs as high-powered as the Angels are.

**** Blindsight (SC)

And here's what Rackhir had to say on the subject of this battle and its conclusion:

This is really more or less what I was thinking and I did break out my best maniacal laugh.

I was furiously determined to not let the last one get away. I wanted revenge, I wanted it badly and just crushing the rest of the group that had taken us down wasn't sufficient. I wanted them all dead.

I didn't have anything prepared of course that I could use to track it so furiously scanning through the SRD I found greater scrying, which could do what I needed, but 7th level spells aren't something you can just pull out of your pocket. So I was wracking my brain for some way to pull it out of my hat, when it struck me that the Absorption I'd put up had would suck up exactly 7 levels worth of spells and thus power up to a 7th lvl spell. Exactly what I needed for Greater Scrying. After that it was a simple matter of a Greater teleport and a maximized empowered Disintegrate…

Getting to crush the guys who had defeated us was great and was something I REALLY appreciated Shil giving us the opportunity to do, but being able to pull a rabbit out of my hat to get the last guy like that...

That was pure gold and one of those moments I'll remember as long as I live.

9th lvl spells, especially those from the Spell Compendium are a BIG step up in power.


----------



## Furby076

shilsen said:


> Getting to crush the guys who had defeated us was great and was something I REALLY appreciated Shil giving us the opportunity to do, but being able to pull a rabbit out of my hat to get the last guy like that...
> 
> That was pure gold and one of those moments I'll remember as long as I live.




That's how we roll man.


----------



## carborundum

Awesome! That's brilliant - giving back the gift of pain to those who richly deserve it 

SWEET update!


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## Furby076

carborundum said:


> Awesome! That's brilliant - giving back the gift of pain to those who richly deserve it
> 
> SWEET update!




The Guardian Angels are the gift that keeps on giving.  When you think of the meaning behind that, think of something vile and dirty - like an STD.


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Awesome! That's brilliant - giving back the gift of pain to those who richly deserve it
> 
> SWEET update!



After over a year (or years, in real-time) of suffering through all the stuff that I did to them, the Guardian Angels definitely got their own back on my NPCs in the last few sessions. 

Speaking of which, we've got three more sessions remaining in the campaign. Unfortunately, I went straight from my most intensive semester of teaching to simultaneously trying to wrap up my dissertation and go on the job market, so I'm insanely busy now and all my gaming time goes to the current games. But I'll try to crank out the next writeup as soon as I can.


----------



## shilsen

The next couple of days after the Guardian Angels deal with the attack on Sharn are comparatively peaceful, but they are exceedingly busy, traveling back and forth across Khorvaire to make arrangements for the expedition into the Mournland. The most significant portion of their time is spent of the issue of what to do with the _gate ring_s that Essirise has brought them from Argonnessen. Considering the sheer number of their contacts among the most powerful and influential members of the Five Nations and beyond—and the Angels’ usual difficulties in achieving consensus—they eventually decide to divide up the smaller rings among themselves (excluding Luna, based on the supposition that she will just keep it for herself) and bestow them where they individually see fit.

* * *
Sora Maenya lounges casually in her seat, but her green eyes gleam darkly and a huge clawed hand strokes the haft of her huge greataxe as she gazes at Nameless. “I’m _still_ not that happy about you taking my trolls without asking me,” she growls.

“I understand,” the alienist rasps with as diplomatic a tone as he is capable of, “but you do realize why we did it, of course. I doubt your trolls are disappointed by the fact that they will probably never need to pay for drinks ever again with the stories they’ll be able to tell. Also, Sora Katra did say it was acceptable.”

“My sister sometimes makes decisions she should not,” grunts Sora Maenya, glancing sideways at the figure of an elf-maid who sits nearby. Sora Katra smiles demurely and says nothing. 

Preferring not to comment on the subject, Nameless instead extends the ring. “This, as I said, will allow you to participate personally in the greatest battle of this war.”

Sora Maenya picks up the ring and studies it suspiciously. “You’re sure about that? What are we talking about – incredible odds, powerful aberrations, terrible danger?”

“Certainly all that and likely more.”

“Hah! All right, I’m in – but you better be right!”

* * *
“And,” Gareth explains, his tone respectfully polite, “I naturally leave it to your judgment, your majesty, of who might be the best recipient. If I might make a suggestion, my companions and I have fought beside Sir Maddox Kaminaar and know he is a powerful warrior. If he is not available or you prefer some other candidate, however …”

The tall figure before him leans back in his throne and bounces the ring on a gauntleted palm, his heavily stylized plate armor making his powerful frame seem even more muscular than it is. A grimly thoughtful smile appears on the chiseled, saturnine countenance. “Thank you for the suggestion,” he says, in a voice that is redolent with power befitting one of the three most powerful monarchs of Khorvaire. King Kaius ir’Wynarn III, ruler of Karrnath, says, “I will think about it carefully and make a choice that you will not be unhappy with.”

* * *
Korm puts two heaping plates of food down on the counter and wipes his hands on his apron. “So I figured that, considering all the crap you’ve put up with thanks to us, you might want to be in on this.” 

“Yeah – I definitely am. And I appreciate the offer,” says Prine. After a pause, he adds, sounding vaguely suspicious, “You’re sure it’s safe?”

“Huh?!” The Gatekeeper stares at the scout from Io’lokar. “Safe? Fighting an aberration army in the Mournland with Mual-Tar and possibly that damn daelkyr lord present? Are you kidding me? Of course it’s not safe!”

“No, no – not that! I mean this,” explains Prine, carefully considering the plate before him, from which a potent combination of heat and spice radiates.

“Hah!” Korm guffaws loudly, before shoving a large spoonful into his mouth. “Of course this isn’t safe either!”

* * *
Doran Dol Doras—officially only the aide to Ambassador Tasho Mol Doras, but in reality the master of spies at the embassy of Zilargo—leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers, looking over them at Six. The warforged, of course, stares back with expressionless stolidity until the spymaster speaks.

“While I appreciate the compliment, master Six, I admit myself slightly puzzled at why you would come to me in this regard. Surely House Deneith, or even Medani, could provide you with skilled warriors.”

“Yes,” says Six, “but I’m less interested in people who can run up and stab people. I,” his tone indicates a grimace which his metal face cannot show, “know enough of those. I’m more interested in people of skill and subtlety. And, if my information is correct, you would be the person to speak to regarding the … Shadow?” 

Doran is far too skilled for his thoughts to show on his face, but there is just the faintest of pauses before he replies. “I … see. You see clearly what others are blind to, but that is to be expected of one of the Guardian Angels. For virtually anyone else, I would refuse, but in this case … what do you think, Madra?” 

There is no verbal response, but a faint movement causes Six to see that there is a figure standing against the wall beside Doran’s desk. He also realizes, in surprised retrospect, that the individual has been there all along, though he never realized it till this moment despite his augmented senses. At first glance, it appears to be a child wrapped in shifting shadows, but taking a closer look he realizes that it is a gnome in a hooded darkweave cloak, features hidden beneath a darkweave scarf. Glimpses of black studded leather peep through the shadows. 

Madra Sil Sarin, representative and deadliest assassin of the Zilargo Triumvirate in Breland, makes the briefest of nods. Doran smiles pleasantly and says, “Interesting. I would not have expected assent. She must be impressed by you!”

Six simply inclines his head at the words and extends the ring towards Madra. The warforged does not see the gnome actually move, but there is a faint flicker of movement and then the ring is gone from his grasp, appearing instead in Madra’s. Though he cannot see her hidden visage, Six gets the impression that she is smiling.

* * *
Once the four rings have been bestowed, there is the issue of the remaining, and largest, ring. Here at least there is no argument about whom it should be taken to…

Cedric spins the ring on the table before him. “And you’re sure this will work the way you said?”

“Yes,” rasps Nameless. “I have analyzed it. There appear to be,” he gestures vaguely, “some other abilities which I could not discern, but I’m certain that it will definitely bring you to our location. You and whatever troops you can muster.”

“All right. Four days doesn’t give us much time, but luckily we have substantial troops remaining in Flamekeep. I will have them ready. As much of them as we can safely spare, that is.”

“You won’t be alone,” says Gareth. “We’ve already spoken to King Kaius, King Boranel and Queen Aurala, and all of them have promised some troops.” 

“Really? Well done. If this works out, the Five Nations—well, four nations—are going to owe you even more. And if this doesn’t work out, well …,” Cedric smiles grimly, “… then it has been a pleasure knowing you bunch.”

“Pfft!” Luna growls. “I am not about to get myself killed. And I already had to bring these four back, so I’m not losing them either.”

“Good to know,” chuckles Cedric. “So, do you have anyone else who is going to come along on this?”

“Yes,” says Six, extending his metal fingers and beginning to count off on them. “You know Corven, our former companion. He is now advisor to Prince Oargev and has a small group of Cyrans who will accompany and help your troops. We’ve also spoken to Merrix d’Cannith, and he has promised a contingent of artificers led by Tarya d’Cannith. A number of warforged from Sharn have also agreed to join you. Houses Deneith and Tharashk …” 

* * *
Besides the visits regarding the _gate ring_s, there are also a few others that the Guardian Angels make for varying reasons of importance. Luna transports Gareth to Karrlakton, where his mother and grandmother are still living, now at a small manor near House Deneith’s Sentinel Tower. Once he has met with them, Luna drags the paladin off to the ruined mansion and the surrounding land which the Guardian Angels had been granted what now seems ages ago. Only after having thoroughly examined it does the druid head back with Gareth to Sharn. After they arrive, she then goes off to meet Lalia, the reluctant paladin in tow, for a protracted discussion about her plans for Gareth’s and Lalia’s wedding and how it should be carried out.

Korm, meanwhile, takes a trip alone back to the Shadow Marches, to meet with some of the remaining Gatekeepers and discuss what is to come over the next few days. He also makes time to meet and feast with some of his old friends, whom he has not seen in a long time. Though he does not say so to them, the fatalistic Gatekeeper does not expect to return from the Mournland, in view of the enormity of their task and based on the prophecy of Sora Teraza. Not that the cheerfully grim warrior has any doubts or hesitation about the task he is engaged in.

Six, when not at the Gray House with the others, spends much of his time in the bowels of Sharn at the Red Hammer Inn. There he speaks to Blue and Crucible about some of his plans for the warforged—those that will be entering the Mournland with Cedric’s troops, those that dwell in Sharn, and the species in general. He also visits the Pool of Onatar’s Tears and speaks with the warforged priest Smith about similar subjects.

With no other friends or confidantes, Nameless spends most of his time at the Gray House, making strategic and tactical plans of various kinds with Trillia and whichever of the Guardian Angels are present, though sometimes he also uses magical forms of communication or simply _teleport_s himself to consult with others who are involved in this expedition. At one point, however, he leaves the Angels’ home and simply walks over to another part of upper Sharn, finally stopping at a location where few might expect to see him—a very high-end jewelry store.

“That one!” the alienist rasps peremptorily, pointing at a huge sapphire in an ornate setting. “I want it.” 

“Certainly!” responds a nervously obsequious salesman, eyes lighting up at the thought of selling a piece that he had expected would be too expensive to sell to anyone short of King Boranel. “And, if I may be so bold, Sir has excellent taste. That is probably our finest piece. The setting itself …”

Ignoring the platitudes, Nameless says, “Yes, the setting—I want it removed.”

The salesman stares for a moment, his expression making it clear that his brain is having difficulty comprehending what his ears just heard. “I … beg your pardon?”

“The setting. Remove it. I just want the gem.”

“But … but the quality … and … and, I mean, the price will … ah,” the salesman stammers, only to fall silent as he finds himself staring into a pair of eyes that have faced dragons, demons and daelkyrs.

As the unfortunate man swallows and tries to keep from wetting himself, Nameless says harshly, “Price is not an issue. I only want the gem. You can keep the setting. That will _not_ be a problem,” he concludes, with no indication in his tone that he is asking a question.

“No … er, no, not at all!” Despite his discomfiture, the salesman makes one more attempt to fulfill his duties. “Would Sir like it to be … um, wrapped? Is it a … gift?”

The alienist smiles, an act which causes the man before him to move from worried and uncomfortable to genuinely scared. “Yes. It _is_ a gift. A gift for my … oldest ‘friend.’” Nameless smiles broadly. The jeweler, to his credit, actually manages not to faint. 

* * * * *
Five days after their first meeting with the dragons from Argonnessen, the Guardian Angels meet them once more at the edge of the Mournland, only under slightly different circumstances. This time, the Angels are standing on the deck of a Lyrandar airship, the Falcon. Its sister ship, the Blackjack, floats nearby. The decks of both ships bristle with weapons and warriors, the most distinctive among them the six armored trolls from Droaam. 

The sight is an impressive one, though perhaps not quite as much as that of four dragons hovering in mid-air beside the airships.

“I thought,” the Light of Siberys commander Bhirali says, sounding a little grumpy, “that I had told you to keep our presence from your people. Not to bring two ships of observers.” 

“We intend to take these airships with us,” Nameless responds as politely as he can, “so they had to be here. Nobody else will see you.”

Essirise, the only dragon who is not in her natural form, having landed on the deck of the Falcon and transformed into her usual alternate form of a silver-haired elf, intercedes quickly. “In view of our aims, I don’t think this is a problem.” Ignoring the loud sniff from Bhirali, she continues, “We have a little news too. We did a little ‘scouting’ into the Mournland and had some strange experiences.” She smiles wryly at the expressions which appear on the Guardian Angels’ faces. “Yes, just as you’d warned us. One of the stranger things we saw was on our second entry. Part of the mist detached itself, took on a roughly draconic shape, and attacked us with a combination of spells and physical attacks. We retreated and tried entering later and in different places, but the same thing showed up every time. It was powerful. Gomashur was almost killed.” The red dragon she is referring to says nothing, but the Angels notice that it looks away, seemingly scanning the Dead-Gray Mist.

“That’s not something we have experienced,” says the alienist, “but the strange, unexpected and inexplicable are the norm for the Mournland.  Are you ready to go?”

When the dragons indicate that they are, Nameless outlines the Guardian Angels’ plan. They intend to travel above the Dead-Gray Mist via the airships, using their connection to Mual-Tar to judge where they are in relation to the Chaos Serpent. Once they arrive above it, the Guardian Angels and the trolls will descend from the airships with the dragons, hopefully arriving right above the aberrations, and launch their attack. 

Bhirali has no objection to the plan and so the airships set off, flying well above the Dead-Gray Mist, with the dragons flying alongside. They quickly grow tired of flying at the airships’ pace and spread out to travel at their own pace, generally flying ahead and then looping back in a huge arc to let the Falcon and Blackjack catch up. 

Barely half an hour after they head over the Mournland, some of the observers on the airships see a large misty shape, which does look a lot like a dragon, fly out of the Dead-Gray Mist. The Light of Siberys dragons immediately zoom towards it, but the shape disappears back into the Mist. 

Once it has made its first appearance, the Mist dragon continues to reappear, sometimes almost directly beneath one of the airships, sometimes emerging a few miles away. It does not, however, evince any offense intentions at the moment.

The airships continue onwards, the Angels’ connection with Mual-Tar indicating that they are approaching its current position, which seems (at least from this position) to be closer to the edge of the Mournland than they would have expected. Nevertheless, it takes the better part of a day of traveling, before they reach a spot above it. They also discover by this point that their sense of the Chaos Serpent’s presence seems to span an area at least a mile wide.

“Great!” says Korm with dark cheerfulness, as the Angels make preparations to descend into the Mist. “The Silver Flame must have given it a growth spurt!”

After a short discussion, some of the dragons from Argonnessen reluctantly agree to carry the trolls through the Mist, while Essirise says that she will do so for the Angels, which should hopefully lower the chances of them being separated. To be as safe as possible, once they have mounted the silver dragon’s back, the Angels also tie themselves together. Then, once everyone is prepared, the five dragons dive into the Mist in unison.

This is the fastest of the Angels’ numerous trips through the Dead-Gray Mist, perhaps because it is thinner at the top of the Mournland than at its sides. Or perhaps it is because, within moments of entering the Mist, they feel Essirise disappear from beneath them. A second later, the quintet drop out of the Mist.

In the split second of falling, the Angels see the Mournland a little over a hundred feet below them. There is no sign of Mual-Tar. Instead, a dark forest, one of the very few they have seen within the Mournland, stands below them. Or, more precisely, rushes up to meet them as they fall towards it. Luckily, all of the Angels had taken the precaution of being capable of flight at this moment, whether through spell or item or innate ability. So they manage to catch themselves before they would strike the ground, albeit with some awkwardness due to still being roped together.

As the Angels hover, they see the trolls appear as well, similarly falling out of the Mist about a quarter of a mile away. Lacking the Angels’ abilities, they all strike the ground with painful force, and then begin to climb groggily to their feet. The dragons appear seconds later, flying out of the Mist at various points, anywhere from a quarter of a mile to a mile distant. Essirise is one as well, emerging with a confused expression as she looks around for the Angels. 

Much closer at hand, another dragon emerges from the Mist, except this one appears to be formed of it. Now that it is near them, the Angels can see that the gargantuan shape does look almost exactly like a dragon carved of mist. The mist that makes up its form does shift and move constantly, but always retains the same general shape. As the mist moves, what look like sparkling gems the size of a human fist appear and disappear from view within it. Nameless thanks to his _arcane sight_ notices that these have auras like spells do, which extend outwards from each ‘gem’ in a web over the form of the creature, and remain visible to his magical sight even when the ‘gems’ are not.

Not that the Angels waste much time on such discoveries. As soon as the mist-dragon appears, Luna hurriedly summons forth a greater air elemental, commanding it to form a whirlwind and attempt to disrupt the enemy’s form. She adds a swift _faerie fire_, just in case this thing can hide itself.

The mist-dragon does not, however, show any intention of doing so. Instead it flies in a wide circle around the Angels, while long streamers of mist flow from its body. They wrap around Gareth, momentarily hiding him from view. And then, when they disappear, the paladin is gone as well. The coil of the rope connecting him to the others goes slack.

“Oh – sh*t!” says Korm. “What did it do, Nameless?” Not waiting for an answer, he casts a _greater dispel magic_, hoping to strip away some of the magical protections the creature may have. And then swears vituperatively as he feels it bouncing back to him, as if reflected by a _spell turning_, though luckily his _ring of counterspells_ absorbs it.

As the Gatekeeper calls a warning about what just happened, Six _haste_s the remaining members of the Angels and the elemental, before slipping out of the rope.

“If it has a _spell turning_,” Nameless opines, “your spell should have drained most of it, Korm. Let me try.” The alienist uses the same spell as the Gatekeeper and his supposition is quickly confirmed, with four of the magical auras crisscrossing the mist-dragon’s shape winking out. Following up with a swift _feeblemind_, which appears to have no effect, Nameless calls out, “That works! Luna – _greater dispel_ it too!”

“Boring!” growls the druid, who had just been about to charge the creature, but she does comply, similarly stripping away four more auras, leaving only one behind. Her air elemental, however, has less effect. The gigantic whirlwind attempts to envelop the mist-dragon but has little effect, bouncing off its surface and only causing some stray streamers of fog to be sucked into the vortex.

Ignoring the elemental, the mist-dragon ceases flying and hovers in place. Droplets of liquid appear across its surface, glimmering with a faint green color. And then, streams of fog emanate from it once more and wrap around Luna, before causing her too to disappear.

“I hope that’s some form of dimensional attack, like _maze_,” calls Nameless, adding hurriedly, “Korm, _dimensional anchor_ yourself, just in case.”

The Gatekeeper quickly complies and then hefts the meteoric blade. With an inarticulate warcry, he charges the foe and hacks viciously at it, only for his sword to bounce off what feels like solid rock*. To add to his disappointment, the action brings him in contact with the droplets on the foggy surface, causing the painful realization that they are acidic. On the other side from him, Six swoops in gracefully and attacks as well. The warforged’s precision strike has more effect, his chain’s barbs ripping free a large section of mist as if it were actually solid.

Having decided to simply treat this creature as a very odd dragon, Nameless casts an _assay resistance_ and then risks flying closer, before using a _stun ray_. The crackling bolt of electricity strikes and, to the alienist’s surprise and delight, the giant misty form simply falls out of the sky to the ground.

“Yes!” Nameless crows, “It’s stunned! Quick – destroy it before it can recover!”

Needing no such admonishment, Korm and Six descend upon the fallen shape, hacking and slashing to the best of their ability. The air-elemental-turned-whirlwind also descends as well, and though it cannot sweep up the mist-dragon, it does appear to be doing some damage as well. Giant hunks of mist fall apart under the assault, especially when Nameless adds a carefully placed _maw of chaos_ which rips at the prone shape.

As the shape is disintegrating beneath the attacks, Gareth appears in mid-air at the spot he had vacated seconds ago. The paladin casts a quick glance around and then, realizing what has occurred, dives head-first at the shape. As he comes, the Endless Blade transforms into a gleaming lance in his hands. 

Gareth strikes with tremendous force, driving his weapon deep into the spot where the heart would be on a physical dragon. Immediately, there is a soft inrush of air and the shape beneath him falls apart, the mist thinning and flying apart until nothing remains.

As the Angels stare at the spot where the strange creature** had been, Luna reappears as well. 

“So,” Nameless inquires, “was it an equivalent to a _maze_ spell?”

“A maze? Yes, it was a maze!” Luna waves her arms dramatically. “I was all alone in there! I wanted to get out! And none of you came with me! I was left there to languish and die!”

As Korm chuckles, Nameless rolls his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. Time doesn’t pass differently in a _maze_. You were in there for less than half a minute!”

The druid fixes him with a glare and growls, “You … don’t … know! You weren’t there! It was _so_ lonely!”

Six glances at Gareth. “You were in it too. Want to argue?”

The paladin takes one glance at Luna and shakes his head vehemently, only half-joking when he says, “Nope. I just came here to fight a daelkyr lord – not deal with Luna!”



* Thanks to a totally characteristic roll of a 2 on the attack. 

** Mechanically it was a CR 21 wyrm brass dragon.


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## Furby076

That was a fun read. The lance thing was inspired by the dragoon knight ability from final fantasy 2. That's just pretty tight to fall from the sky with a lance onto your enemy.  even more fun when it kills them.


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## Dilandau Kale

Another great chapter.

Ps I may have asked this before but is there anywhere which has the physical descriptions of the characters? (what they look like how they dress etc)


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## shilsen

Dilandau Kale said:


> Another great chapter.




Thanks.



> Ps I may have asked this before but is there anywhere which has the physical descriptions of the characters? (what they look like how they dress etc)




I think some descriptions might have showed up in posts earlier, but I can't think of a specific one. I'll ask the players to post something about that and, if someone doesn't, then I'll do it.


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## carborundum

An excellent read as usual - totally made my day at work! Printed it out to read at lunchtime, had to explain to a few kids what it was, now a few have started checking out enworld and asking if an rpg session at school is out of the question 

All down to the Shilmaster ;-)


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## Rackhir

Dilandau Kale said:


> Another great chapter.
> 
> Ps I may have asked this before but is there anywhere which has the physical descriptions of the characters? (what they look like how they dress etc)




You did about a year and a half ago actually.

It doesn't have descriptions, but the Rogues Gallery for the SH is here.
http://www.enworld.org/forum/genera...ues-gallery-shilsens-saturday-story-hour.html

The descriptions we'd posted are here on this page, about half way down.

May 2009



Rackhir said:


> Well Six should look something like a male version of the android in this. Since his name is a elaborate reference to it (Mythril 6 of 6 - AKA M-66).
> 
> Luna is typically an either an ENORMOUS bear or a tendriculous. Both bloated compared to regular creatures. One of Mordain's "improvements" makes her shape shifted forms a size class larger and extremely fat (you see one of her symbiotes was making Luna's shifter/real form fat and this was... unacceptable, so it got changed to making her druid animal forms "fat"). This actually led to one of the few instances where anyone was able to change her player's mind about something. For some reason she had fixated on getting a flying carpet (which nobody else was interested in for many reasons) and we tried using reason and logic (which failed of course).
> 
> Until frustrated I pointed out "Weight capacity of the largest carpet 800 lb. Weight of avg Dire Bear (then her favorite form) *8,000 lb*! Luna >> heavier than the avg Dire Bear. DO THE MATH!
> Oh..."
> 
> Recently she has started using the 1,000 faces ability and a necklace she found in the mournlands (still waiting on the blowback from that) to "enhance" her appearance (to what ever strikes her) as she boffs what ever noble has taken her fancy this week.
> 
> Korm. Well I always pictured him as something like an orcish version of the nazi who was punching out Indy and ate a propeller in the original film. Korm wears a similar amount of clothing (he depends on magic for his AC) and and a similar love of fighting. His only other real distinguishing characteristic is his big meteoric steel sword. Korm is really pretty much more of a walking mass of rules abuses, than an actual character. Shil took one look at the original concept and said "Uh. No." and nerfed a bunch of stuff since he would have been dishing out more damage than the rest of the group combined.
> 
> Here's the description from when he was first introduced.
> 
> 
> 
> This one is a large and heavily muscled half-orc, with a scarred and remarkably ugly visage. He wears no armor and has on a long hooded robe, worn over clothing with tribal markings on it. He also carries an unusual-looking sword strapped to his back.
Click to expand...





Rackhir said:


> To be honest it was never something I gave much thought to. But here's a compilation of some of the the aspects that have come up in the past with a degree of elaboration.
> 
> Nameless typically uses a hat of disguise to appear extremely nondescript and forgettable. Unless someone looks into his eyes, as no magic can disguise the insanity lurking within.
> 
> Without the hat of disguise or to those capable of _True Seeing_, his eyes glow with the characteristic blue glow of a permanent _Arcane Sight_. As a result of his Transcendence, his left arm is now a tentacle of an indefinable purple color that normal minds can never quite nail down the exact color of or that appears exactly the same purple twice. Of course random parts of his anatomy also tend to behave in ways that would disturb normal witnesses.
> 
> His forehead used to bear the mark of Cyäegha, a stylized eyeball with wavy tentacles for eyelashes. Though only those most versed in the lore of Xoriat would know it's meaning. Cyäegha is one of The Great Old Ones, Nameless's patron and the entity to which Kha'tvan'ga will deliver him when his life span has elapsed.
> 
> Since achieving Transcendence (AKA hitting lv 10 in Alienist), the mark has mutated into an Abberant Dragonmark that allows him to assume an Aspect of Cyäegha and when doing so he assumes many of the physical characteristics of his patron. The tentacles now cover his entire forehead, Even when not manifesting the aspect and the eye is an actual eye on a stalk. Some of the Aspect is visible to those with True Seeing, even when he is not manifesting the Aspect.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> There is a faint popping sound and then the skin splits in two-inch long sections all over his body. Dozens of eyes push themselves out of the splits, and a couple of seconds later, Nameless’ face and arms – and, beneath his clothing, the rest of his body – is covered with the orbs, each rolling back and forth as it peers in a different direction. Each eye is a facsimile of the one on his forehead.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> His skin tends to have a greenish tinge.
> 
> He wears no set style or color of clothing. Instead, picking them to satisfy some arcane and obscure set of criteria (nobody has ever stayed sane through one of his explanations) which might sometime result in fashion disasters or fashion trends, if any ever saw them. Few clothes tend to survive very long in his line of work anyway.
> 
> Like all of the Angels, he is covered with a fine network of scars and strange   modifications as a result of Mordain Fleshweaver's experimentations and augmentations.
Click to expand...





Furby076 said:


> With regards to how Gareth looks.  Well, having a high charisma, being in a family that believes in honor, duty, loyalty, and courtly ways he follows a fairly stereo-typical look for a paladin.
> 
> 6'4"
> Muscular build/cut
> Brown hair that goes down to the shoulder
> Blue eyes
> Chiseled features
> Dresses in formal clothing, but primarily in very well polished full plate armor with a cloak that has his family crest
> Gareth stands up straight and acts as proper as possible






Rackhir said:


> Well Six should look something like a male version of the android in this. Since his name is a elaborate reference to it (Mythril 6 of 6 - AKA M-66).
> 
> Luna is typically an either an ENORMOUS bear or a tendriculous. Both bloated compared to regular creatures. One of Mordain's "improvements" makes her shape shifted forms a size class larger and extremely fat (you see one of her symbiotes was making Luna's shifter/real form fat and this was... unacceptable, so it got changed to making her druid animal forms "fat"). This actually led to one of the few instances where anyone was able to change her player's mind about something. For some reason she had fixated on getting a flying carpet (which nobody else was interested in for many reasons) and we tried using reason and logic (which failed of course).
> 
> Until frustrated I pointed out "Weight capacity of the largest carpet 800 lb. Weight of avg Dire Bear (then her favorite form) *8,000 lb*! Luna >> heavier than the avg Dire Bear. DO THE MATH!
> Oh..."
> 
> Recently she has started using the 1,000 faces ability and a necklace she found in the mournlands (still waiting on the blowback from that) to "enhance" her appearance (to what ever strikes her) as she boffs what ever noble has taken her fancy this week.
> 
> Korm. Well I always pictured him as something like an orcish version of the nazi who was punching out Indy and ate a propeller in the original film. Korm wears a similar amount of clothing (he depends on magic for his AC) and and a similar love of fighting. His only other real distinguishing characteristic is his big meteoric steel sword. Korm is really pretty much more of a walking mass of rules abuses, than an actual character. Shil took one look at the original concept and said "Uh. No." and nerfed a bunch of stuff since he would have been dishing out more damage than the rest of the group combined.
> 
> Here's the description from when he was first introduced.






Furby076 said:


> With regards to how Gareth looks.  Well, having a high charisma, being in a family that believes in honor, duty, loyalty, and courtly ways he follows a fairly stereo-typical look for a paladin.
> 
> 6'4"
> Muscular build/cut
> Brown hair that goes down to the shoulder
> Blue eyes
> Chiseled features
> Dresses in formal clothing, but primarily in very well polished full plate armor with a cloak that has his family crest
> Gareth stands up straight and acts as proper as possible






Atlatl Jones said:


> View Post
> 
> 
> 
> Rackhir said:
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Korm. Well I always pictured him as something like an orcish version of the nazi who was punching out Indy and ate a propeller in the original film.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> That's pretty close, actually.
> 
> Here's the picture that was one of the inspirations for Korm.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> That's basically him, but with the following big sword, made of meteoric iron, instead of the staff.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> He's about as unkempt as that picture, if slightly less hairy.  At any given time he's probably eating some sort of fast food, covered in mind-blastingly-spicy orcish sauce.  (One of his ambitions is to retire and open a chain of orcish restaurants, specializing in heavily spiced stewed meats full of cream, ground nuts, and magical Fire Seeds.  Naturally the name of the chain will be Korma Khan.)
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Rackhir said:
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Korm is really pretty much more of a walking mass of rules abuses, than an actual character..
> 
> Click to expand...
> 
> 
> 
> Hey!  He's an actual character _and_ a walking mass of rules abuses.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Rackhir said:
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Shil took one look at the original concept and said "Uh. No." and nerfed a bunch of stuff since he would have been dishing out more damage than the rest of the group combined. .
> 
> Click to expand...
> 
> 
> 
> A darkwood sword plus the Spikes spell is pretty ridiculous, indeed.
Click to expand...


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## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> An excellent read as usual - totally made my day at work! Printed it out to read at lunchtime, had to explain to a few kids what it was, now a few have started checking out enworld and asking if an rpg session at school is out of the question




Cool. Glad to hear it.


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> An excellent read as usual - totally made my day at work! Printed it out to read at lunchtime, had to explain to a few kids what it was, now a few have started checking out enworld and asking if an rpg session at school is out of the question
> 
> All down to the Shilmaster ;-)



That's awesome. There's nothing like catching potential gamers early and I think roleplaying games are a damn fun teaching tool. 

I've actually run a quick adventure in a first-year composition course (so for 20 students, almost all non-gamers) as an exercise in creating a text, adapting to audience, use of critical thinking, etc. The students played themselves in the adventure, dealing with a zombie attack on the campus, using d20s and a "character sheet" consisting of three qualities which I had each jot down for themselves before we began. There was lots of creativity and teamwork, some really amusing moments, a couple of heroic sacrifices, etc. and an awesome climactic battle between the surviving students and the evil mastermind creating the zombies using black magic and too much weed (who was actually a student from the course who had dropped out, in part because he was spending too much time on weed). The students loved it and the exercise gave me a very good reference I could refer back to throughout the rest of the semester.


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## carborundum

Wow - where do I sign up!!??


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Wow - where do I sign up!!??



Once I get a new job, I'll let you know


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## Neurotic

Will there be more Guardian Angels goodness?


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## Rackhir

Neurotic said:


> Will there be more Guardian Angels goodness?




Probably not real soon. Shil is very busy with job hunting and a <classified non-gaming project>.

OTOH, Sepulchrave has updated his AWESOME SH something like 6 times in the past two months which is more than we usually get from him in a year.

This is the master thread of all the story hour threads that make it up.
http://www.enworld.org/forum/story-hour/58227-tales-wyre.html

I take a certain proprietary interest in that SH, since I was one of the people who posted in his original thread asking what he should do about the potential romance between Nehael and Eadric and bumped it occasionally during the long months with no updates from him. Also we most likely would not have had Nameless without Mostin.


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## carborundum

Sepulchrave's SH has been so good the last few months, I'm absolutely over the moon about it 

Sagiro is slightly overdue for an update but I'm rereading the collected works so that's okay. Hope you guys are all doing okay, I'm looking forward to hearing the rest of the Angels adventures when the time is (stars are?)  right.


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## shilsen

Neurotic said:


> Will there be more Guardian Angels goodness?



As Rackhir noted above, I'm really _really_ busy with other things at this point, which means my gaming time is very finite and my Kingmaker game trumps the story hour when it comes to deciding where to dedicate my time. I actually started writing the latest update for the story hour a few days ago and then had to go do job/dissertation stuff in short order. I'm definitely going to complete writing up and posting the saga of the Guardian Angels, but I can't promise when the next bit will be up. Apologies.


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## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> I'm looking forward to hearing the rest of the Angels adventures when the time is (stars are?)  right.




_"That is not dead which can eternal lie. And with strange Eons, even Death may die."_


----------



## shilsen

Once the Guardian Angels have disposed of the ‘mist dragon’, they are able to meet up with the dragons and the trolls, who had emerged from the Dead-Gray Mist in separate groups a couple of miles away. Once they have are all together, the Angels use their link with Mual-Tar to seek out the Worm, since it is clearly not where they had hoped. They quickly pick up its direction and the distance, realizing that it is at a location some fifteen miles away from their current position. 

Once they communicate this to the others, Essirise says thoughtfully, turning to her draconic compatriots, “We should minimize the time we need to spend here. I suggest that we continue allowing the Angels and the trolls to ride us and fly as quickly as we can toward the Worm.” 

Though clearly not as comfortable with the idea as the silver dragon is, the others agree. Soon, the few—if any—onlookers in the Mournland are provided with the distinctive sight of six huge dragons of a variety of colors, winging their way some fifty feet off the ground, with a dozen oddly shaped and garbed individuals riding them.

The dragons set up a tremendous pace, causing the Mournland to roll away swiftly beneath them. In barely fifteen minutes, they cover a third of the distance. Though their flight is unimpeded by the odd inhabitants and contents of the Mournland, this is when they spot the first barrier to their travel. Some two or three miles ahead of them, a wall of glowing red light extends from the ground to the Dead-Gray Mist some two hundred feet above. It stretches away to left and right as far as the eye can see in the dim corpse-light of the Mournland, curving slightly as it does so.

“What in the Flame is that?” asks Gareth.

“I … have a theory,” rasps Nameless, studying the distant obstruction, “but I need to be closer to be certain.”

A few minutes later, after the dragons have landed before the wall and given him a chance to examine it more closely, the alienist says, sounding faintly impressed, “As I surmised, it is very similar to a _prismatic wall_, but only the first color and of overwhelming power. Passing through should be relatively safe, since we can all take the heat damage that it should cause, but it is a little risky, because I cannot be certain that it does not have other effects.”  

“Interesting! I wonder how the aberrations created it,” says Korm, prowling back and forth before the wall. “Let me see something.” He drops his robe and falls prone, his shape shifting and growing, while a thick slime appears on his flesh. The ground beneath him dissolves and the Gatekeeper burrows into the soil.

“Bah – that’s too slow!” Luna opines, promptly turning into a huge earth elemental and disappearing into the ground too.

Six, after looking back and forth between the two for a moment, shrugs and sits down. Looking up at the slightly confused expression on the closest dragon’s face, he says, “Don’t ask. That way lies madness.”

After a minute, Korm reappears. Changing back into his usual form and picking up his robe, he says, “I went down a long way and didn’t see an end to it.” Luna returns shortly afterward to confirm what he says.

“This would work on the red layer of a _prismatic wall_.” Nameless extends his staff and speaks a word, causing a _cone of cold_ to shoot forth from it at the wall. Where it impacts the curved surface, a hundred-foot wide section shimmers and disappears. Through the gap, the watchers can see another wall half a mile away, this one orange in color.

“Orange is the second color in a _prismatic wall_,” says Nameless. “It looks like we will have to work our way through each of the seven walls.”

The alienist is accurate, with the expedition encountering seven magical walls in succession, each of them placed a half mile from the previous one. The areas between them are unoccupied in the first two cases, but after the third, yellow wall, there are a few aberration camps scattered here and there. These mostly consist of dolgaunts commanded by dolgrims, with a few more powerful aberrations present. Intending to husband their resources as much as possible, the Angels use no spells and deal with them physically. With the dragons and trolls present, it takes little time or effort.

Finally, once they have penetrated the final, violet wall, the Angels find themselves within a circular area that must measure some six miles in diameter. Much of the outer two miles in each direction is occupied by a gigantic force of aberrations, which appear to be watching the central area in rapt attention. 

The two mile wide area in the middle is occupied by a large collection of the semi-organic buildings which the Angels have previously seen the aberrations use. They appear to be deserted, with no signs of movement. The only visible motion in this area is atop the huge structure in the center, a giant ziggurat. Bright silver flames are visible at multiple points atop it. The entire structure glows with a green light that Nameless, even at this distance, thinks he recognizes.

“That’s a _dimensional lock_,” the alienist says quickly. “So no _teleport_ing into or out of that area, nor any summoning. Except for Kha’tvan’ga, of course.”

“What’s that thing above the ziggurat?” asks Luna. “And what’s the Worm doing with it?”

“A planar rift, I believe,” says Nameless, peering across the miles at the dark, glowing rip in space some two hundred feet long, which hangs above the rift. “As for Mual-Tar …,” he shrugs eloquently. “At least it doesn’t seem to have noticed us.” The Worm is coiled around the ziggurat, its gigantic head raised toward the rift above, its gargantuan body glowing brightly with silver flame. As the alienist notes, it shows absolutely no signs of being aware of the Angels’ arrival, remaining utterly motionless.

“Yes, but others have,” points out Six, indicating the aberration horde closer at hand. Misshapen heads turn towards them and cries of alarm and challenge ring out as the forces of Xoriat prepare to charge the intruders.

“We need to get there quick!” says Korm, hurriedly casting a preparatory spell. 

“At least we have dragons!” replies Gareth with a pleased laugh, the Endless Blade appearing from his metal fist while he slaps the side of the dragon he is perched on and says, “Let’s go!”

“Excuse me!” A huge draconic head turns to glare at the paladin, before Essirise shouts, “No time to waste! For Argonnessen!” The silver dragon arrows forward and the other dragons follow in her wake. 

A hail of weapons and magical spells assail the dragons and their riders as the aberrations below them seek to intervene, but the huge creatures do not slacken their speed at all, not even pausing to strike back. Their riders, too, do not retaliate indiscriminately, instead holding their fire until they see particularly dangerous enemies. A pair of beholders are blasted apart before they get close enough to use their eyebeams and a small collection of mind flayer arcanists are obliterated moments after they hurl theirs spells. Otherwise, the Angels and their allies simply weather the attacks, none of which particularly incommode them*.  

Ignoring their wounds, the onrushing dragons propel the Angels far faster than they have ever flown. In less than three minutes they have crossed the two miles occupied by the aberration forces and are soaring through the air above the structures around the ziggurat.

As they approach, they see that the ziggurat consists of four perfectly square steps, each twenty feet high, with a forty-foot wide ramp running up each of the sides. The bottom step is two hundred feet long and wide, with each higher step diminishing by forty feet in length and breadth till one arrives at the highest one, eighty feet across. Eight squat pillars stand in the corners and at the center of each edge on the topmost step, each of them ten feet wide and twice as feet high, all glowing brightly with silver flame. 

The entire structure is constructed of interlaced carvings that appear very similar to Mual-Tar, albeit much smaller than the gigantic Chaos Serpent, whose coils now envelop much of the ziggurat. The top of the final step has scores of dragonhards buried in it, forming large runic patterns, which appear to circle inwards in spirals till they culminate in the center in a stylized rendition of what appear to be Mual-Tar’s jaws. One glance at the runes confirms for Nameless what he had already surmised—that the entire structure is a huge dimensional seal.  

The rift hanging above the ziggurat is slightly longer and wider than the structure below, bearing somewhat of a resemblance to the planar gates the Angels have encountered in the past, though its jagged edges lack their neatness. Floating a little over a hundred feet above the eighty foot high ziggurat, it is only a few feet below the Dead-Gray Mist that forms an unbroken ceiling above. Once close enough to look up into the rift, one can see that it actually appears to show the sky above Khorvaire, with the stars and moons clearly visible as on an utterly cloudless night. The stars are in constant motion, moving back and forth as they would in the sky over time, covering as much ground as they would if every second was a new day. The moons, however, do not move at all, neither expanding nor contracting. Seven of them are full and bright, aligned in the celestial juxtaposition that allowed the ritual that is occurring.

At the very center of the ziggurat below stands Antaratma, sheathed in a nimbus of silver flame, chanting loudly in the mind-warping tongue of the daelkyr. As he speaks, wisps of silver flame constantly appear on the stone around him, each flowing to one of the pillars to join the flames that cover them. Every few seconds, one of the pillars pulses and a stream of silver flame flows from it to the motionless form of Mual-Tar. The Chaos Serpent displays no signs or noticing this—or anything else, for that matter. It remains statuesque, looming over Antaratma, its open maw raised to the rift above. 

“All right,” says Nameless, as the tremendous speed of the dragons brings them steadily closer to the ziggurat. “It’s very simple. Our first priority is to disrupt the ritual. Then we take out Antaratma and Mual-Tar.” Glancing around at the dragons, he says, “Land next to the ziggurat. I don’t think we can risk flying above it.”

As the dragons comply, swooping down toward the structure, Antaratma turns to face them, a vicious and anticipatory smile on his perfect face. He ceases chanting, but the effect of the silver flames appearing and flowing back and forth continues around him. “Fools!” the daelkyr lord calls out, his tone gleeful. “Did you think your paltry powers could slay me?” 

“No – not really,” replies Nameless calmly, “but if you’ll stand still, we’ll give it another try.”

Antaratma’s eyes narrow slightly. “Your glibness will not help you. Your Flame is mine. And now we finish this—once and for all!”

Even as the daelkyr is speaking, hundreds of aberrations stream out of the hitherto seemingly deserted buildings. Most are dolgaunts, but there are many of the more powerful species as well, from mind flayers to athachs to nagas to others that the Angels have never encountered. Simultaneously, Nameless realizes that dozens of aberrations are _teleport_ing into the area around them, or at least trying to, since his _greater anticipate teleportation_ dweomer keeps them at bay for a few seconds. The emerging forces seem to be concentrated in four areas, from the center of each of which a mind flayer floats upwards, its body gleaming with multiple magical protections. One glance at their insignia and markings confirms that these are members of the Seven, the supreme leaders of the aberration forces that Antaratma brought here from Xoriat. Luckily, even the closest foes are a good two hundred feet away, since that is where the buildings nearest to the ziggurat are, but within seconds the Angels and their allies will be enveloped by a sea of enemies.

“See?” says Antaratma triumphantly and smiles. Power ripples through the air between him and the group clustered near the ziggurat. Confident as he is, the daelkyr lord knows the capabilities and defenses of the Angels, each of whom is currently warded with a _mind blank_. So, instead, he strikes at their allies. Five of the six trolls from Sora Maenya’s guard grab at their heads, shrieking in agony for a moment, and then look around blearily, seeming utterly confused. Antaratma smiles more broadly. And Bhirali, the huge gold dragon commander from the Light of Siberys, turns her head and glares at the Angels. Flames play around her nostrils as she takes a deep breath.

“Sh*t!” says Luna, looking around. “You idiots better not die again today!”



* I let Korm’s player roll 2d20 to see how much damage each PC and ally took, so he promptly rolled a 16 and 15. Luckily, at this level, that’s barely a scratch.


----------



## carborundum

Good grief, Shilsen! That's positively frightening! I must hear more!!

Thanks for the spectacular update of impending DOOM! Hope all's well in your neck of the woods


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## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> Good grief, Shilsen! That's positively frightening! I must hear more!!




5 Dragons + 5 20th lvl PCs >> Aberration army. 



carborundum said:


> Thanks for the spectacular update of impending DOOM! Hope all's well in your neck of the woods




*DOOOM!!!!!!*

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBR-fjrlSJE"]*DOOOM!!!!!!*[/ame]


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## Furby076

Rackhir said:


> 5 Dragons + 5 *Insane* 20th lvl PCs >> Aberration army.




fix't

Well, ok 4 insane 20th level pcs plus 1 20th level paladin pc


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Good grief, Shilsen! That's positively frightening! I must hear more!!




More is on its way and this time I'll definitely not be taking as long as I have between updates.  



> Thanks for the spectacular update of impending DOOM! Hope all's well in your neck of the woods




Thanks. Things are good, albeit busy as hell. I actually ended up doing this writeup as a break from dissertation revision and job applications. Since I still have a lot of those to do (and will, for the next couple of months), I'll try to use more update writing as breaks.


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## Solarious

Furby076 said:


> Well, ok 4 insane 20th level pcs plus 1 20th level paladin pc



I see paladins get their own very special category of insane.

As is proper.


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## Furby076

Solarious said:


> I see paladins get their own very special category of insane.
> 
> As is proper.




Paladins get "lawful stupid" the rest of the angels just get "crazy crazy"


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## Rackhir

Solarious said:


> I see paladins get their own very special category of insane.
> 
> As is proper.




Actually there is a sane person in the group. 



Spoiler



But it's Six. We try and leave Gareth his delusions as to sanity, though.


----------



## shilsen

Well, I've been busy as hell with job searching and wrapping up my dissertation (defending on the 18th - woohoo!), but I managed to make enough time to write up the climactic battle. Enjoy ...

* * * * * * * * * *

“Luna, become an elemental now—the largest you can be,” snaps Nameless, beginning to cast a spell. As the magic takes hold, he says, “I _wish_…”

Beside him, Gareth hurriedly casts a protective spell, the paladin’s shape transforming into a _stone body_, while Six activates the wand inside his metal arm, using a _haste_ on all of the Guardian Angels. Korm calls on the abilities he has drawn in from the various aberrations he has fed on, a cloaker’s wings sprouting from his back even as his hide thickens like a delver and an athach’s poisonous fangs fill his mouth.

None of the changes are as impressive as Luna’s. The druid begins to grow, her body enlarging dramatically and turning into a stony form that stretches ten, twenty, thirty, forty and then fifty feet. Now she towers as high as the tallest of elder elementals, but then Nameless’ _wish_ takes hold, allowing Luna to surpass even the tremendous potential implanted in her by Mordain the Fleshweaver. In seconds, the equivalent of a small hill, a full hundred feet tall and proportionately broad, towers over every combatant on the field, including the dragons. Only Mual-Tar is far larger, but the Chaos-Serpent remains motionless. Luna roars and smashes the huge boulders that pass for her fists onto the ground. “This … is … AWESOME!”

Even the daelkyr lord pauses at the sight, before swiftly sheathing himself in a series of magical protections. His forces do not, however, thousands of aberrations (and tens of thousands of them outside the city surrounding the ziggurat) flying, running, slithering and hopping forward towards the ziggurat. 

Near the Angels, most of the befuddled trolls babble in confusion, but two raise their swords and prepare to attack. Luna promptly interposes herself, allowing their blows to bounce harmlessly off her rocky hide. Most of the dragons cast protective spells of their own, but Bhirali opens her mouth to breathe, her _insanity_ causing her to see those near her as her foes. Just as she is about to, the huge gold dragon staggers, Essirise leaping on her and temporarily bearing her down. Bhirali snaps at his attacker and struggles mightily, but Essirise holds on for the moment, though clearly having difficulty. “Do something!” she calls out, “I can’t hold her!”

Gareth tries a _break enchantment_ on Bhirali, but Antaratma’s enchantment is too powerful for the paladin, resisting even Nameless’ swift use of the same spell an instant later. The alienist instantly uses his mastery of destiny to catch the fading magic and alter the probability of its success, but to no avail*. The gold dragon roars in maddened rage, managing to roll Essirise over, pinning her down. 

But then, just as hers jaws are about to close on the silver dragon’s now exposed neck, Korm’s hand slaps against Bhirali’s side. The Gatekeeper channels a _heal_, instantly ending the dragon’s madness. Bhirali blinks once and then hurriedly flings herself off Essirise, babbling apologies in draconic.

“No time for that,” says the relieved silver dragon as she rises. “Get the daelkyr!” she snaps quickly at the Guardian Angels. “We’ll buy you some time!”

“Yes!” growls the clearly embarrassed Bhirali. “Dragons, follow me—for Argonnessen!” She leaps into the air, followed by the other dragons. 

Watching them go, Nameless glances at the still confused trolls and says quickly, “Luna, keep them off me for a moment.” The gigantic elemental nods, raising her gigantic fists, but before she strikes, Gareth completes a swift spell, casting a _calm emotions_ that causes the trolls that were trying to attack the alienist to halt and lower their weapons.

“Oh,” says Luna, sounding disappointed, before looking at the daelkyr lord. With a pleased laugh, the giant elemental flows forward, to and up the ziggurat, once more raising her mountainous arms. 

Behind her, Six wraps himself more closely in the shadows seeping from his harness. The warforged’s form enlarges dramatically, leaving him standing well over a dozen feet tall. He sweeps his proportionately large spiked chain in a huge arc, ensuring that none of the other trolls can threaten Nameless.

Seizing the opportunity, Nameless completes the modified version of a _gate_ that he had prepared for this moment. Normally, it would not work within the Mournland, but the combination of the daelkyr’s ritual, Nameless’ own connection to this land and to Xoriat, and, most importantly, the subject that he is focusing on has the effect he hoped for. The giant gray hunk of the Madstone that the Angels had stowed away in the icy wastes far to the north of Khorvaire now reappears, embedded in the ground at Nameless’ side.

Antaratma, who had been preparing for Luna’s assault, blinks in first surprise and then rising fury. “You … dare?!” Invisibly and unnoticed by the others on the battlefield, the alienist feels his mind reach out and seize control of the warpstone—or try to, until a mental riposte from Nameless knocks it away**, momentarily claiming control of the warpstone for himself. “Tsk, tsk, Aunty! You know very well by now,” Nameless smiles, “There is very little that I don’t dare.”

As he speaks, the alienist hears a chorus of screams behind him. The dragons, flying parallel to each other, have reached the front row of the advancing aberrations and they breathe all at once.  A three hundred foot wide swathe of fire, cold, acid and electricity strikes the creatures. The aberrations are aided by the fact that they are well spread out and gaining substantial cover from the various structures that make up the ring-shaped city around the ziggurat but, even so, the attack instantly kills scores and leaves others critically wounded. Only the combination of a natural resistance to mind-affecting effects and magical protections provided by their masters keeps most of the aberrations in the battle, but many dolgrims throw down their weapons and flee in abject terror.

However, the numbers are utterly against the dragons, and their foes have many weapons at their disposal. While the barrage of missiles which envelops them has little effect, the streams of acid, cones of coruscating sound and other strange attacks are more damaging, as are the magical attacks that dozens of enemy casters unleash. Despite their resistance to magic and other natural (and magical) protections, wounds appear on all of the dragons. The bronze dragon Vorelakun screams and falls out of the air, smoke leaking from the sockets where its eyes had been.

On the ziggurat, Antaratma snarls in frustration at Nameless’ action and then steps forward, his whip lashing out. It strikes Luna’s stony exterior, seeking to drain her life force, but her protective spells and new form protect her. However, there are certain things that she cannot protect herself against. Luna feels the sensation of an instant transformation, some of her natural vitality being changed into an increased agility*** that feels particularly odd in her giant shape. 

Even more troublingly, the flying mind flayer members of the Seven—the generals of Antaratma’s forces—are now close enough to use their most powerful spells. Four _horrid wilting_s explode among the Angels. Even with all their protections, all of them are wounded. The comparatively unprotected trolls are far more badly hurt, only their tremendous vitality preventing any of them from dying instantly.  

Ignoring his wounds, Nameless attempts to use the Warpstone to affect the ritual, but this time the swift mental contest goes to Antaratma, who parries the alienist’s mental attempt. The smile which begins to appear on the daelkyr’s face is wiped off an instant later, when Nameless casts a _sphere of ultimate destruction_, causing a featureless black globe to appear atop the ziggurat. The sphere strikes one of the four pillars and begins to disintegrate the material, incredibly hard though it is. 

A moment later, one of Luna’s huge fists smashes into Antaratma. The wounded daelkyr snarls and again strikes the giant elemental, causing her to groan as he further reduces her vitality****. 

“Help her, Gareth,” snaps Korm, casting a swift _stone to mud_ spell on Gareth, which substantially heals the paladin’s not-stony form. “I’ll keep the mind flayers off you,” says the Gatekeeper, taking to the air. He charges one of the aberration generals, hacking into its side with the meteoric blade. Just as Korm had hoped, his target and many of the other aberrations in the area focus on him, causing him to smile grimly. _For as long as I can_.

Behind him, Gareth complies with the command, the angelic wings extending from his armor sending him soaring up the ziggurat’s steps. With a loud cry, the Endless Blade crashes down on the daelkyr, inflicting a deep wound. Even though it begins healing quickly, Antaratma staggers backwards at the impact.

Simultaneously, more _horrid wilting_s and other spells explode among the Angels clustered at the ziggurat, while Korm, slightly separated from his companions, finds himself defending against multiple magical and physical assaults, that leave the Gatekeeper badly wounded. Some of the trolls go down and so does another dragon, though her three compatriots continue battling on. Despite the tremendous power they can bring to bear, it is clear that the sheer volume and resources of the enemies will overwhelm the small group of attackers at any moment. Especially since most of the aberrations have not even managed to join the battle, particularly those whose teleportation into the area had been hindered by Nameless’ _greater anticipate teleportation_ until now.

Or so it seems, until Six dramatically evens the odds. Figuring that there will never be a more opportune time, the warforged reaches into his backpack, produces the Gate Ring and activates it.

A tremendous wave of arcane power ripples from the artifact, palpable to even the most magically unaware of the combatants on the field. A golden point of light appears some five hundred feet from Six, which rapidly expands into a huge _gate_, a thousand feet in width, translucent in color and roughly shaped like the outline of a dragon with outspread wings. Smaller portals of a similar shape appear closer at hand, each only a hundred feet away, forming the corners of a square around the Angels and the ziggurat.

Through the giant magical portal one can dimly see the staging area for the troops waiting in Thrane, which promptly begin to pour through. At their head are three figures that the Angels immediately recognize—Cedric in the lead, followed by the Karrnathi bone knight Maddox Kaminaar to his left and their former companion Corven to his right. Behind them hurry hundreds of troops drawn from the Five Nations. For the first time since the beginning of the Last War over a century ago, the forces of Aundair, Breland, Karrnath and Thrane fight side by side against a common foe. Beside them stand goblinoid mercenaries from Darguun, soldiers of the Deneith Blademark, warriors from House Tharashk and Cannith artificers. 

Four distinctive figures step through the four smaller _gate_s. The largest of them all hefts her greataxe and looks around, licking her lips in anticipation. Diagonally across from Sora Maenya, a much smaller, robed figure also looks around, though her hood veils her face. Out of the Angels, only Six recognizes Madra Sil Sarin. The third figure is known to all the Angels, the scout Prine from Argonnessen, who smiles worriedly and hurriedly draws his twin blades. So too is the fourth, though he is not one they had expected to see. Tall and muscular, dressed in dark red plate armor and wielding a wickedly serrated blade, King Kaius III of Karrnath salutes the Angels and then lowers the front of his helm into place.

Having done its part, the magical ring in Six’s hand, crafted painstakingly by the most skilled of draconic arcanists in the depths of Argonnessen, crumbles away. So too does the giant _gate_, but as it breaks apart, some two dozen fragments from it break away to land elsewhere on the battlefield, where they continue to shimmer brightly.  

The entire process takes only seconds and then the roar of voices and the clash of arms echoes across the battlefield. The newly arrived troops rip into the clearly stunned aberrations around them. Cedric shouts a command and begins to hack his way towards the ziggurat, the troops behind him following suit while trying to form a broad wedge. Maddox angles slightly away with another contingent, covering one flank, while Corven does the same on the other. Trying to clear a path, Corven triggers a wand, only to have the magic fizzle uselessly. Despite the situation, the artificer half-laughs as he swears and then shouts at the Angels, “You do this to me every time!”

Despite their initial shock, the aberrations quickly fight back, their numbers still substantially dwarfing the five hundred or so troops that the _gate_ let through. The mind flayer generals shout commands to their troops, turning their attention away from the Angels and towards the newcomers. All except the one facing Korm, that is. While Sora Maenya, Kaius and Prine all attack the nearest foes, Madra Sil Sarin disappears in a puff of smoke and reappears in mid-air behind the flying illithid. Before it can even detect her presence, she stabs her short sword right into its skull and hangs on. The mind flayer struggles feebly, clawing at the air before it, but it seems unable to speak or cast any spells. 

Antaratma screams in rage and then shouts, “Mual-Tar! Awake!” The Chaos Serpent, however, makes no movement and the only response is Nameless’ harsh laugh as he sends his _sphere of ultimate destruction_ smashing into the same pillar. 

The daelkyr glares at the alienist and, once more, engages mentally with him over the warpstone. As he does, however, Nameless completes casting a _limited wish_, using it to bolster his own intellect, and pushes off Antaratma’s mental grasp. With a swift effort, Nameless unleashes the warpstone’s aberrant power. The stream of silver light that had been calmly flowing up the ziggurat and to the four pillars intensifies in brightness, before swinging wildly like a cracked whip. It strikes a second pillar, causing a spiderweb of deep cracks to cover it. 

“Luna—forget Antaratma! Get the pillars!” At Nameless’ command, the druid turns and hammers into the same pillar that the light hit, smashing chunks away and causing it to list to the side. 

Antaratma leaps towards Luna, whip and claw raised, but Gareth swiftly interposes himself, hacking into the daelkyr again and again. Foiled, Antaratma strikes the paladin instead, failing to drain his life force but transforming away his vitality too.

Korm, having been given a moment by Madra’s attack, swiftly heals himself and charges an unsuspecting mind flayer nearby. The meteoric blade bites deep, but the illithid is still alive. As it desperately tries to cast a spell, the Gatekeeper fixes it with a stare. To his inordinate pleasure (and surprise), his gaze has its supernatural effect, causing the mind flayer’s eyes to close. It plummets to the ground below, instantly breaking its neck. “Yes!” shouts Korm, “Finally!”

Battle rages across this patch of the Mournland. The new arrivals are badly outnumbered, especially as the giant ring of incoming aberration forces reaches and bolsters those that were already present around the army of the Five Nations. They are, however, in a compact formation and were fully prepared for this moment, unlike their foes. Veterans of the Last War fire a withering hail of bolts into the approaching aberrations, each of them magically enhanced ahead of time by the artificers. A row of Brelish warforged raises tower shields in place, deflecting the bolts that dolgrims fire in return, before stepping aside to let a troop of Dhakaani hobgoblins charge through, spiked chains scything through the enemies. Aundairan mages and Cannith artificers launch _fireball_s and _lightning bolt_s, leaving Karrn and Thranish heavy infantry to mow down the wounded. While many powerful aberrations threaten to break the soldiers’ lines, small elite groups—Tharashk half-orcs and Deneith Blademarks—combine to take them down. Maddox Kaminaar’s distinctive bone armor marks him as he engages an athach single-handed, while Corven marshals the lines on either side, keeping the formation intact as best he can.

Despite their efforts, the soldiers might have been swiftly overwhelmed, if not for the incredible feats being performed near them by some of the mightiest warriors present in Khorvaire today. The odd couple of Cedric and King Kaius stand back to back, reaping the foes that surround them, the rude quips and battered armor of one contrasting with the silent fury and gleaming red full-plate of the other. Prine leaps here and there, blades slicing through enemies and moving on almost before they fall. Madra Sil Sarin is invisible most of the time, only appearing to land a killing blow against one particularly powerful enemy after another. None of the new arrivals are as eye-catching, however, as Sora Maenya. The hag is in her element, roaring in fury and scything through all enemies within reach, a mound of corpses steadily growing around her. Only the three remaining dragons, now rampaging through the aberration ranks with fang and claw, arguably cause as much damage. 

Most importantly for the Angels, the appearance of their allies dramatically diminishes the amount of foes they have to deal with. Two of the mind flayer generals are dead or dying, while the others are trying to form their troops into some sort of order to deal with the interlopers, so the only attackers that remain for the Angels to deal with are those few that have reached the ziggurat. These enemies are uncoordinated in their assault and, considering their opposition, very unlucky. 

While Nameless continues his mental tussle with Antaratma over the warpstone, Six’s scything chain keeps enemies away, killing some and tumbling others off their feet for the remaining trolls to take down. Korm, having flown back to the others, hovers protectively over the arcanist, utilizing blade and spell to bring down anything which comes within reach. Atop the ziggurat, Gareth and Luna battle Antaratma, pausing every few seconds to take down some aberration that has made its way up there as well. 

For some moments, the fight at the ziggurat is at a stalemate. Neither Nameless nor Antaratma succeed at taking full control of the warpstone, lightning-quick psychic attacks meeting instant ripostes. The _sphere of ultimate destruction_ continues inflicting damage to the pillars, though the daelkyr lord manages to repair some of it with a _wish_ from a ring on his hand, undoing much of what the magical creation and Luna have inflicted. Mual-Tar has not moved yet at Antaratma’s call, which would be reassuring if not for the fact that it indicates the ritual is still in progress.   

Meanwhile, the glowing fragments of the vanished _gate_ have been pulsing slowly where each fell, seemingly with no effect on the aberrations and Khorvairan warriors passing through them. Now, suddenly, each of them expands visibly. Simultaneously, each of the Angels feels an odd sensation in their mind, as various faces and names rise unbidden to the surface, some familiar to them and others of relative strangers that they have almost never thought of. The distracting sensation momentarily causes Nameless to falter in his psychic duel. Antaratma cries out in triumph and seizes control of the warpstone.

And then the glowing shards of the _gate_ disappear, each leaving behind a figure in its place, one that the Guardian Angels had encountered at some point in the past. Morran Shasharaat, a Maruk Ghaash’kala warrior, looks around in evident surprise at a scene far from his homeland in the Labyrinth leading to the Demon Wastes, and then grabs at his sword, burying it in the head of an even more surprised dolgaunt. Near him Balan Cord, warden of the Blackened Book in Sharn, hurriedly draws a wand and activates it, before rising up into the air and shouting at the Angels, “What did you do _this_ time?!”

Elsewhere, an unfortunate gnoll, one of the members of the tribe that had encountered the Angels while they were riding to meet Mordain, appears and dies in seconds, as does a goblin guard who had survived the Angels’ failed attack on the drug den. Some distance from them, Gareth’s former apprentice Bodo throws himself adroitly aside, dodging a pair of crossbow bolts. The missiles bury themselves to the fletching in the chest of the short figure that had appeared near Bodo. Thurian Davandi, better known to the Guardian Angels as Killian, looks down with a horrified expression and then collapses. From the top of the ziggurat, Luna roars, “Yes! We finally got that b*stard!”***** 

Luna’s enthusiasm waxes even greater as she spots two very divergent figures on the battlefield. The smaller one, another gnome like Killian but far more flamboyantly dressed, adroitly parries a dolgrim’s swords with the thick book he is carrying. Kessler, Sharn’s most famous and controversial playwright and satirist, dances backwards, swiftly reciting a poem that causes his attacker to stop with a befuddled expression and then move to defend him instead. The other figure is more conventionally martial, his gleaming cutlass slicing through first the tentacles and then the throat of a dolgaunt. Luna waves her giant arms and shouts, “Look, it’s my gnome _and_ my boyfriend! Yoohoo!” Prince Ryger ir’Wynarn of the Lhazaar Principalities, throws the giant elemental a faintly horrified glance. Then he focuses on attacking the foes around him, perhaps not coincidentally heading away from the ziggurat. 

Across the battlefield, a slim, armored figure slashes her blade across the throats of two dolgrims and then cuts down an onrushing runehound with a swift blow. Behind her, a dolgaunt silently raises its tentacles, and then collapses silently. The elderly woman standing behind it drops the now crumpled tea-tray that she had been holding and then says quickly, “Young lady, I suggest you look behind you. Now can I borrow an extra weapon?” As the other woman quickly proffers a shortsword, both of them glance at the ziggurat and say simultaneously, “Gareth!” The paladin stares across the battlefield at his fiancée and grandmother, thinking that he had imagined this scene a little differently. He opens his mouth to shout a warning, when a ring of electricity incinerates the enemies around them. A third woman, inhuman eyes crackling with power, rises into the air. Titania, high lady of the eladrin, is on the field.

Closer to the ziggurat, a huge globe appears in midair, bobbing gently up and down. For all of a moment, before an errant missile strikes it, causing a loud roar to emanate from it, as well as volley of rays from the various stalks that leap up. Ek’aankh, the ancient beholder from Yarkuun Draal, is both awake and crotchety.  A flying mind flayer drops out of the air as Ek’aankh’s _antimagic_ gaze strikes it. Struggling to its feet, the illithid screams as an oddly shaped missile smashes its eye. The boy who threw it pulls another rolled newspaper from his shoulder bag and hurls it, hitting a dolgaunt behind the knee and bringing it down.

“See?” says Nameless, indicating the paper boy, “I knew there was a reason they can survive delivering papers in Sharn!” As he speaks, the alienist feels Antaratma’s mental grasp on the warpstone slip, the daelkyr lord again momentarily distracted by the new arrivals. Seizing the opportunity, Nameless psychically reaches out, smashing through his foe’s defense. “Now!”

Korm rockets up the stairs, ignoring a lashing tentacle, and hacks into Antaratma, driving him back. Six appears in a puff of smoke behind Antaratma, chain wrapping around the daelkyr lord’s leg and pulling, just as Gareth smashes the Endless Blade down on his head. Incredible defenses or not, Antaratma tumbles to the ground. 

Unseen tendrils of aberrant power leap out from the warpstone, but this time Nameless turns them inward, a mighty mental effort redirecting the energy to act upon its own source. The giant chunk of warpstone rises into the air and then soars upwards. “Luna!” the alienist shouts, “Use this!” 

Simultaneously, Nameless directs the _sphere of ultimate destruction_ to strike the same pillar that he has been targeting, causing part of it to disappear and the entire column to list sideways. Before the structure can recover or Antaratma intervene, two misshapen hunks of rock close on the flying warpstone. Wielding it like a gigantic club, Luna smashes it with all her titanic might into the damaged pillar. With a tremendous crack, the pillar snaps off at its base.

The daelkyr lord’s scream and the sounds of the battle are drowned out at the tremendous explosion that follows. The broken pillar vaporizes before it can hit the ground, each of the others disintegrating similarly. The warpstone similarly melts away. Streams of silver energy shoot in various directions like lightning, most of them rising vertically into the air to strike the slowly-expanding tear between Eberron and Xoriat which was hanging above the ziggurat. The rip in the planar fabric twists and jerks like a living thing and then drops, enveloping the ziggurat.

To the Guardian Angels, it is as if the landscape around them (and the creatures it contains) suddenly shoots out and away from them, retreating swiftly and becoming dimly translucent as it recedes, till they are floating in the middle of  a mile of open space. Surrounding them is the scene within which they stood moments ago, but overlaying it is a nauseating, mind-bending vista of colors and layers that is unsettlingly familiar, especially to one of them.

“Is this …,” begins Korm, flying back towards Nameless, sword raised warily as he sees Antaratma floating to his feet. Incredible rage is writ large across the daelkyr lord’s face, but of greater concern is the slow movement of the gigantic shape behind him, Mual-Tar slowly uncoiling itself from the ziggurat that hangs in the center of the dark sphere within which the group is.

“Yes,” rasps Nameless, “This is Xoriat.” Then, as realization dawns, the alienist adds, “The heart of Xoriat, to be precise, the _kuch-naa_ … the ultimate nothingness!”


* Rolled a 3 on the opposed caster level check and then used a Fatespinner ability to reroll and get an 8.

** From this point on, Nameless and the daelkyr were making opposed Intelligence checks as a free action each round to control and use the warpstone for a round.

*** Antaratma can shift some of an enemy’s physical ability scores from one to another. In this case, he lowered her Con by 7 and raised her Dex by 7.

**** Luna was down 14 Con by this point.

***** Even if they had to use an aberration army from Xoriat to do it!


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## Furby076

shilsen said:


> Across the battlefield, a slim, armored figure slashes her blade across the throats of two dolgrims and then cuts down an onrushing runehound with a swift blow. Behind her, a dolgaunt silently raises its tentacles, and then collapses silently. The elderly woman standing behind it drops the now crumpled tea-tray that she had been holding and then says quickly, “Young lady, I suggest you look behind you. Now can I borrow an extra weapon?” As the other woman quickly proffers a shortsword, both of them glance at the ziggurat and say simultaneously, “Gareth!” The paladin stares across the battlefield at his fiancée and grandmother, thinking that he had imagined this scene a little differently. He opens his mouth to shout a warning, when a ring of electricity incinerates the enemies around them. A third woman, inhuman eyes crackling with power, rises into the air. Titania, high lady of the eladrin, is on the field.




I recall, when this happened, I was like "aww man, don't kill grand mom and my fiancee'"


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## carborundum

LOL - that sounds like an awesome session, complete with the Unexpected Shilsen twists 

Can't imagine running a combat that huge - the mind boggles!

Mister Shilsen, all the very best of luck with your dissertation defense. What was it all about again? Something appropriately erudite IIRC...


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> LOL - that sounds like an awesome session, complete with the Unexpected Shilsen twists




Well, it was one of my last opportunities to work them in for this campaign, so I had to make it a doozy! Plus one of the recurring themes in my game(s) is that the ways in which PCs interact with the world, and especially people, around them makes a big difference to their eventual success. This was as emphatic an illustration of that principle as I could pull off.



> Can't imagine running a combat that huge - the mind boggles!




The only part of it that I had to run at the table was the actions of the Angels, the trolls, Antaratma and some of the more powerful aberrations that attacked them. The rest of it was a combination of flavor and/or things I'd rolled out beforehand, so it wasn't too much extra (which is a good thing, since the amount of stuff the PCs were throwing out, esp. with the warpstone in play, was quite enough for me).



> Mister Shilsen, all the very best of luck with your dissertation defense. What was it all about again? Something appropriately erudite IIRC...




Thanks. Hopefully I shouldn't have any real trouble with the defense, but I'll have to wait and see. My area is Renaissance drama and I'm studying the use of metatheater during the period, examining (1) the way it derives from the context in which Renaissance drama arose and functioned and (2) its influence on the stage-audience relationship.


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## shilsen

_Finally_--here's the next update. Apologies for the insane amount of delays and thanks to anyone who's still reading...

* * * * * * * * * *

Nameless’ words, as usual, mean far more than the other Guardian Angels understand, and he realizes what they do not. Though they can see some of the endless layers of Xoriat around them, strangely overlapping the hazy sight of the battling armies within the Mournland, the alienist realizes that this area is separated from all that surrounds it. The other layers of Xoriat do not impinge on this area, though they flow all around it. There is nothing here. Absolutely nothing. Nameless and his companions are in a place which exists (and the word seems wildly out of place here), or was supposed to, only in the fevered dreams of the greatest alienists. This is the heart of Xoriat, where all of creation achieves perfection by becoming utter nothingness. This is a spot where even the denizens of the Plane of Madness—however powerful they might be—do not, or cannot, come. It is anathema to all that uneducated minds hold to as reality. The best analogue to it, Nameless thinks, in the limited parlance of mortal language, might be to call it a gigantic sphere of annihilation. Which may explain why, an instant later, what remains of the ziggurat crumbles away, leaving only the Guardian Angels, Antaratma and Mual-Tar, floating in the perfection of utter emptiness.

For a split second, Nameless is uncertain how and why they are able to exist here, but the answer comes swiftly to him. The Angels and their two foes are glowing brightly with silver light, long ropes of which connect all seven of them. Each individual present is currently suffused with the soul energy of thousands of living creatures. No, the alienist quickly realizes, tens or hundreds of thousands, if not millions. The soul energy of not only all who died on the Day of Mourning but most of the power that once flowed in the Silver Flame, and who knows what other sources that Antaratma had harvested to begin his ritual. That combined energy now fills the Angels, Antaratma and Mual-Tar, warding them from the deleterious effects of the place that they are in. The silver light flows between each of the seven, linking them all in a bond which Nameless realizes is currently indissoluble. 

While the other Angels do not realize all that Nameless does, the one thing that they similarly notice is the sensation of power. At various points, they have all been empowered by conventional spells and supernatural boons, by the modifications of Mordain and by the blessing of the Silver Flame. This feeling, while similar, occurs at a completely different level. Energy drawn from the lives of who knows how many creatures fills them, far too much to retain safely within them, crying out to be released and relinquished. At this moment, each of the Angels realizes, they are suffused with more power than they have ever possessed—the energy to destroy and the ability to create, simply by willing things into or out of existence. This must be what it feels like to be a god. 

The power suffusing the Angels and their enemies also has some additional manifestations. The most obvious one appears to be the translucent ‘window’ onto the Mournland which surrounds them. Multiple tiny tendrils of the silvery light extend through the borders of the _kuch-naa_ and out to the ‘window’, keeping the Angels still connected, if in the most tenuous manner, to the world that they have so recently left. Gesturing at it, Luna asks, “Can we get out of this place?” Nameless gestures at the vista and says, “I think so, using the soul energy. But first ….” He jerks his head, as Antaratma and Mual-Tar both begin to move, and then hurriedly says, “Now we do this as we planned—as a team.”

Six, as usual the quickest to act, thinks of using his wand. What is not usual, however, is the next occurrence. As soon as the warforged conceives of the action, the silver energy surrounding him pulses, a tiny fragment of it dissipating while all of the Angels are promptly _haste_d. Not only does Six’s wand remain unused, but the action occurs instantaneously, far quicker than using the magic item is. 

Availing of the opportunity, Six swiftly readies his spiked chain to attack, while saying, “That was _not_ the wand. I think the silver light let me do it … by thinking of it.” If any more confirmation was needed of the Angels’ changed circumstances, even before he completes the words, his companions hear them inside their heads.

“So the energy lets us do … whatever we wish to?” asks Korm, the question again communicated instantly to his companions.

“Probably not _anything_ we could wish,” replies Nameless cautiously. “Try drawing on it as Six did, to replicate spells we know of. And then we can try more.”

“Good! Anything which lets me blow those two up,” says Luna, the mental communication occurring in the druid’s characteristic growl, “and go home works for me! I’ve had it with them!”

“Me too!” agrees Gareth. The paladin concentrates on the energy around him, trying to replicate an _enervation_ effect. As with Six, there is a pulse, but—whether due to Gareth’s connection to the Silver Flame or through pure happenstance—this time it is dramatically stronger. What shoots from the paladin’s outstretched gauntlet is not only a spell that would normally be beyond his capabilities but one functioning at a level beyond what even Nameless could have achieved on Khorvaire. 

The _empowered energy drain_ shoots forward, seemingly covering far more distance than it normally should, and strikes Antaratma squarely. Unfortunately, this is to no avail, since the daelkyr lord is immune to such effects, as the smile on his face indicates. 

Antaratma’s expression changes rapidly as the paladin switches tack. More than the others, Gareth feels a strong connection to the energy surrounding them, sensing it dramatically enhancing the abilities which the Silver Flame had granted him. Now he calls on one of these, a rarely used skill provided via his training as an exorcist. On Khorvaire, the paladin’s action would have been intended to purge the souls from a possessed individual. Here, with Gareth brimming over with the power of the Flame, it has a dramatically different effect. Streams of silver light fountain out from Antaratma’s body and the daelkyr lord convulses in agony.

“Nice one, Gareth!” shouts Luna, transforming into a giant elemental as she speaks, the action far swifter than it has ever been for her. The druid raises a flaming arm, causing a _maximized polar ray_—its crackling cold contrasting oddly with the fiery limb it emanates from—to shoot out. The ray successfully strikes Antaratma, further wounding and freezing the daelkyr lord, thanks to the diminishment of his normal resistances by Gareth’s timely attack. Emitting a triumphant chuckle, the druid swiftly follows with a _greater dispel magic_ that suppresses the daelkyr lord’s _ring of three wishes_. 

“My turn!” Seeing the cloud of silver motes that left Antaratma’s body still floating nearby, Korm attempts something different, trying to suck them in. Comprehending and clearly concerned at the possibility, the wounded daelkyr lord hurriedly ripostes mentally. A tentacle of silver light shoots from each of them at the cloud, meeting and slashing violently. After an instant of abortive struggle, the Gatekeeper growls his disappointment and gives up. Instead, hefting his meteoric blade, he shoots forward. 

Korm is only trying to get closer to Antaratma, since the daelkyr lord appears to be a couple hundred feet away from him, but as he moves what seems to be a dozen feet from his position, he disappears—and reappears instantly next to his target. Not bothering to question the situation, the Gatekeeper shouts an inarticulate battle-cry and brings the sword down. Still suffering from reduced defenses thanks to Gareth’s attack, Antaratma shrieks in agony, his entire torso laid open. Where bones and organs would be visible on a human being, the Angels see only malformed lumps of purplish-green flesh, from which more silver motes stream.

Unfortunately, the wounded daelkyr lord is not the only enemy present. While he staggers and attempts to mount a defense, there is a tremendous roar. Mual-Tar rushes forward. Like Korm, the Chaos Serpent initially appears to be far from its targets, but it is instantly on top of the Guardian Angels. Not even bothering to use its giant maw, Mual-Tar simply smashes through the Angels, bowling them out of its way. On Khorvaire, the impact would have left most of them crippled. Here, they are mostly just badly bruised.

More troubling is the time it gives Antaratma, who promptly uses the soul-energy to activate a _mass heal_ on himself, closing most—though not all—of his wounds. Rejuvenated, he follows with a _chained dispel magic_ attempting to strip their protections from the Angels. Nameless’ _greater counterspelling_ ring flares to life immediately, the alienist hurriedly feeding in additional soul-energy to enable it to absorb the spell. With a frustrated snarl, Antaratma locks eyes with Nameless, ignoring the smack of Six’s chain, which appears to have shot out two hundred feet before it strikes him. The alienist feels an incredible pressure on his body*, attempting to crush and morph him into a helpless form, but—after a tremendous effort—he fights off the attack.

As Antaratma floats backwards, preparing for another attack, Korm too recoils, once more disappearing and reappearing closer to his allies. “What’s with the weird distance thing?” he asks, readying his sword.

 “Distance doesn’t actually exist here,” says Nameless, before smiling slyly. “Nor time, for that matter.” Seemingly without moving or taking any action, the alienist is suddenly right beside Antaratma. Something flickers in the darkness and time simply stops for everyone besides the two of them, making the other Angels and Mual-Tar appear to be frozen in place. “My friend...,” Nameless begins, before cocking his head to one side and pausing for a moment. “Actually, you are in a real sense, my oldest friend. You were there when I was ‘born’ and at least a fragment of you will be there when I die.” 

“And this,” Nameless looks around, an oddly beatific smile on his face, “this is beyond ... words, beyond what even one such as I could imagine or comprehend. Xoriat ... is even more glorious than my experience could ever have prepared me for and I see now that you can offer this to me in ways I can only dimly comprehend. So, finally, I’m willing to throw in with you and lend my strength to you against my ‘compatriots’.” The alienist sneers, glancing at the other Angels.

“But there is one thing, just one thing that I need from you first.” Suddenly, from nowhere, Nameless whips out a sheet of paper on a board with a stylus. “I need you to fill out this survey.”

Antaratma has dealt with the Angels multiple times, facing their inherent chaos, which has sometimes baffled even such an incomprehensible entity as a daelkyr lord, but he has steadily grown more prepared for their odd actions. However, this non-sequitur is too much for even him. A look of stunned incomprehension flashes across the perfect features. Reflexively, almost of its own volition, his hand reaches out for the survey. 

And then, just as his fingers close, there is something else in Nameless’ grasp, the alienist having moved so quickly that it isn’t even a motion.** Antaratma’s hand closes on an enormous gem, one lovingly and oh-so-carefully prepared by Nameless during long nights in Khorvaire .... with the dweomer _trap the soul_.

A look of belated realization appears on Antaratma’s visage and he opens his mouth, but before he can speak a word, his form turns misty and is sucked into the gem. 

“YES!” Nameless holds aloft the gem and shouts loudly, “I alone have done that which was last done millennia ago, requiring all of the Gatekeepers combined! I have bound a DAELKYR LORD!” The alienist peers into the gem, as if he might be able to see the prisoner within. “What do you think of that … Auntie?”

The space around him shimmers again, the incredible power which had temporarily frozen time now ending. 

Which is instantly accompanied by a loud splitting sound.

Nameless glares at the crack which runs across the gem in his hand, the powerful magical enhancements which lace it providing little protection as the deleterious influence of the _kuch-naa_ now reasserts itself. A faint mist begins to seep out of the crack.

“Ah, bugger!” 

With time reasserting itself, Mual-Tar once more flows inexorably forward. Attempting to slow it, Six disappears and reappears, over and over, so quickly that it seems there are half a dozen warforged present, circling and slashing at the moving Worm with his chain. An instant later, Luna unleashes a _meteor swarm_. The fiery explosions smash into the onrushing behemoth, only a second ahead of Korm, who hurtles in with blade swinging, carving a slash twice as long as his body into its flesh. Gareth, meanwhile, attempts to purge the soul-energy from the Chaos Serpent as he did from Antaratma moments ago. He is again successful, but the streams of silver light seem inconsequential in comparison to the huge amount of soul-energy limning the gigantic Worm’s form. Similarly, though the attacks of the other Angels leave their marks on Mual-Tar’s body, it appears only marginally hurt.

Not slowing down, their gigantic foe smashes into the Guardian Angels one more time, hurling them about the strange battlefield. Nameless is almost critically wounded by this second assault, the magical gem tumbling from his hand as he floats in mid-air. 

“Hang on!” Luna shouts, swiftly using soul-energy to _heal_ the alienist. “Anyone got any suggestions?” 

“I could,” says Korm, “just let the damn thing eat me and try to cut it open from the inside. That may distract it and give the rest of you a chance to take it down. Until I die, that is.” The Gatekeeper readies himself to charge, his expression far less dour than should be the case for someone planning to use suicide as a tactical option.

“NO!” Four voices ring out simultaneously, the other Angels hurriedly explaining at once—with unusual unison of purpose—that they need to work together and concentrate their abilities to win this. 

“And,” Nameless concludes, “I have another option.” He speaks a single word—and Khat’van’ga appears.

For those who have not experienced the things that the Angels have, the Horror is a terrifying sight at the best of times. Now, in the very heart of the plane of which it is born, Khat’van’ga’s shape defies description, an amorphous amalgamation of tentacles, claws, eyes and elements for which no mortal tongue has words. Khat’van’ga’s central mass now stretches fully a hundred feet, its tentacles more than doubling this length.   

Despite its increased size, Khat’van’ga is still far less than half the length and bulk of the Chaos Serpent, but it does not hesitate, flowing forward to attach itself to Mual-Tar’s size. Tentacles, claws, suckers and fangs rip into the Worm’s hide, ripping away its flesh and sending streams of silver energy flowing out. Mual-Tar flagellates in evident agony and then spins around, trying to bite at Khat’van’ga and wrap a coil around the smaller creature. 

As the two titans attack each other, a soft susurrus permeates the area, a sibilant and wordless whisper that smacks of fascinated appreciation. The source—or sources—of the sound are a variety of shapes that have silently appeared out of the layers of Xoriat over the last few seconds. They are a variety of large shapes, all situated just outside the limits of the _kuch-naa_, some hovering in place while others float back and forth. All of them are a combination of translucence and transparence, and do not seem aware of—or at least not responding to—each other’s presence, some of them actually flowing through each other as they move.

Nameless smiles as he spots one of the largest of them, a gigantic eye that floats in space, a nest of tentacles moving idly beneath the unblinking orb. _Cyaëgha!_ “They are the Great Old Ones,” he says quickly. “Don’t worry—they’re not actually here. They must have been attracted by our presence here and come to see,” a note of pride is evident in his voice, “what could trespass where even they cannot go.” 

“Great!” Korm grunts, “Even our peanut gallery is amazing!”

“Look,” Six’s pragmatic voice cuts in, “he’s back!”

As the warforged warns, the cloud of mist that has been seeping out of the abandoned gem has now reformed into a slightly confused and utterly enraged-looking Antaratma. The daelkyr lord throws one quick glance around the changed battlefield and hurriedly unleashes a blast of soul-energy. The motes transform into razor-sharp shards of diamond which rip into the Angels, further wounding them.

Antaratma smiles triumphantly and raises a hand. “And now, I _wish_…”

Luna emits a loud chuckle. “No, you _don’t!_!”

Expressions of surprise and outrage, followed instantly by shock and horror, flash across the daelkyr lord’s face as he look at his hand—and the ring on it. What Antaratma has, fatally, forgotten is that while time may have appeared to pass for him within Nameless’ magical gem, he was held in stasis, as was everything and every effect on him. His wounds still remain—as does the effect of Luna’s previous _dispel_ling of his ring.

Before Antaratma can recover from his error, Six’s chain smashes squarely into his left eye, propelled unerringly thanks to a swift, soul-energy-fuelled _true strike_. The daelkyr lord screams in pain and fury, reaching up toward his face, but before he can touch it, Korm is once more upon him, crossing space and time within an instant. Antaratma dodges backwards but the Gatekeeper stays on him, their actions causing the pair to flash in and out of existence around the blank sphere, appearing here and there, but always right next to each other. 

Ignoring the odd sensation of seeing his allies and the battling titans appear and disappear constantly, Korm focuses on the target before him and brings the meteoric blade down. The silver motes limning its blade flash as it falls, neatly severing first the tentacle-whip attached to Antaratma and then the arm beneath it. 

Streams of silver spray from the wound as the daelkyr lord howls, still trying vainly to backpedal from the Gatekeeper, but there is no respite for him. A _bombardment_ from Luna smashes him off his feet, causing him to momentarily pinwheel in the gravity-less void and, before he can recover, two beams of light touch him. One, glowing brightly of mingled argent and azure, is a _maximized bolt of glory_ from Gareth, while the other, dark green shot through with streaks of purple, is an _empowered maximized disintegrate_ from Nameless. 

Antaratma explodes, all which is left of his form being a cloud of silver motes which float where he had so recently been. Another loud susurrus of excitement accompanies his passing from the watching Great Old Ones, perhaps the only creatures in existence which had seen a daelkyr lord die before this moment.

The Guardian Angels do not, however, have time to relish the victory. Turning their attention back to Mual-Tar and Khat’van’ga, they find that the battle has inevitably turned against the latter. The Chaos Worm has managed to grab the smaller creature in its coils and now it squeezes, slowly crushing the Horror. Nevertheless, Khat’van’ga fights on, adding to the significant wounds that it already has inflicted. 

Using the opportunity created by the Horror, the Angels strike hurriedly, spells and weapons ripping into Mual-Tar. The soul energy connecting all the combatants evidently allow the attacks to bypass the Worm’s considerable resistance to damage and to magic, allowing them to be dramatically more effective, but Mual-Tar is far from critically wounded.  Its gigantic maw opens wide, revealing the myriad rows of huge teeth within, and then snaps shut. Khat’van’ga convulses as fully half of it is bitten off and then goes limp, slowly beginning to fade away.***

Nameless cries out, feeling an odd—and excruciating—sensation within him, as if part of his very being had been ripped away. As he does so, the Worm drops what remains of its late enemy and charges, the huge bulk arrowing straight at him. Mual-Tar ignores the other Angels as they desperately attack, trying to slow it down, its gigantic maw opening once more. The alienist hurriedly retreats, but he is too slow and—with distance being meaningless in the _kuch-naa_—far too close. As the others watch in awed horror, the Chaos Serpent’s jaws close around his comparatively tiny form. 

Or at least they seem to. At the very last moment, there is a pulse of magical energy where Nameless was and the alienist disappears, having folded time in on itself to return to a spot he had occupied seconds ago****. Instead of the Chaos Serpent swallowing him whole, Nameless is only shoved aside by its bulk, which leaves him badly wounded, but at least not forever consumed.

“Now!” the alienist shouts as Mual-Tar hesitates for just an instant, having realized that its quarry has escaped. “Hit it with all you have!”

As he speaks, Nameless goes through a series of gestures, simultaneously calling on the soul energy and his own dwindling life force. Blood pours out as streaks of flesh rip off his arms, the droplets coalescing as they fall into tiny orbs of energy. With a motion, the alienist sends them shooting forward, morphing as they do so into a large, crackling globe. When it impacts with Mual-Tar’s head, the globe explodes, ravaging the Worm’s flesh with waves of acid, fire, electricity and sonic energy. The result also leaves Nameless critically wounded, but the access to the soul energy allows his companions to swiftly heal him while they follow his lead.

Six’s spiked chain impacts the same spot as Nameless’ _hellball_, powered by a soul energy-fueled _limited wish_ and ripping free gobbets of weakened flesh. It is followed by a huge comet of flame from Luna, maximized in its effectiveness, which causes the gigantic Worm to shudder. 

And then Gareth and Korm streak in together, like two smaller comets, the Endless Blade and the meteoric sword held in advance. The Gatekeeper’s sword crackles with necromantic energy, a _maximized vampiric touch_ healing Korm as he smashes a deep wound in Mual-Tar’s flesh, while the paladin’s weapon erupts in flame as he smites the Worm with all his might.

Despite the damage it has suffered, enough to have laid low a battalion of the dragons of Argonnessen and then some, the Chaos Serpent is not yet done. Streaming gore and torrents of silver light from its myriad wounds, Mual-Tar turns for another attack.

But Gareth is not done either. Drawing on a rarely used gift from the Flame, the paladin channels the energy of his attack into a boon for his allies and sends a stream of light flowing to Korm. 

The Gatekeeper feels his movements speed up dramatically for a few moments. Ripping his sword free, he leaps up, twirling in mid-air. And then smashes down with all of his might, pouring as much soul energy as he can into the strike and calling on every last iota of power in his weapon. He hits with an impact so powerful that the sword disappears entirely into his target, Korm momentarily standing buried to both knees and elbows in Mual-Tar’s flesh.

Even the greatest craftsmen of the Gatekeepers, painstakingly forging the meteoric blade from the heart of a fallen star, centuries ago in the depths of the Shadow Marches, would not have expected it to avail against such a foe as Mual-Tar. Certainly, on Eberron it would have had only limited utility against the Worm. But ironically, in the heart of the Plane of Madness, with its foe so badly wounded and Korm empowered beyond the mightiest champions of the Gatekeepers, things are different. 

The meteoric blade explodes.

And so does the Chaos Serpent, the hitherto-immortal eater of worlds. 

If the explosion of Antaratma released a flood of soul energy, then Mual-Tar’s dissolving form sets forth a small ocean, the Angels momentarily unable to even see each other as they are enveloped in silver light. When their vision clears, they stand alone in the _kuch-naa_. Even the watching Great Old Ones are utterly silent and almost motionless, as if waiting avidly to see what these fascinating creatures do next.

“And that,” says Korm, surprise as strong as satisfaction in his voice, “I believe, is that!”

“And none of you got yourselves killed! Yeah!”  Luna exults. 

Smiling from ear to ear, Gareth opens his mouth to say something, then pauses and clicks his fingers, causing the Endless Blade to disappear—along with its loud, triumphant, and expletive-ridden babbling. “So—shall we go home?”

Six, never one to make assumptions without information, turns to Nameless. “Can we?”

The alienist, smirking victoriously as he gazes at the translucent shape of Cyaëgha, turns his attention to another area outside the _kuch-naa_. Nameless gazes for a few seconds at the ‘window’ that looks onto the Mournland, to and from which tiny streams of silver light are flowing.

Finally, he speaks, his rasping tone betokening a combination of pride, fascination, and amusement, underlying all of which is something that the others have rarely, if ever, heard from him—contentment. “Possibly. But I shall not be returning with you.”  



* Quickened _polymorph any object_.

** Natural 20 plus Sleight of hand + 28 (Fatespinner class skill) and Moment of insight +20. Poor Aunty never had a chance. 

*** Mual-Tar auto-kills _any_ target on a natural 19-20.

**** Got a natural 20 vs. Nameless, but he used a Fatespinner ability to cause Mual-Tar to reroll.


----------



## carborundum

Luckily, we have automatic new post notification and this was a great surprise. My train journey to work started off very nicely, thank you!

And... Wow. Good grief! Is it really over? Can they finally have secured the victory they needed? Did they really _all_ survive? I bet they never expected that 

Thanks for a spectacular update, Mr. S. Must disembark now!


----------



## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> Luckily, we have automatic new post notification and this was a great surprise. My train journey to work started off very nicely, thank you!
> 
> And... Wow. Good grief! Is it really over? Can they finally have secured the victory they needed? Did they really _all_ survive? I bet they never expected that




What Khat’van’ga doesn't count? Nameless almost died, if not for that class ability.



carborundum said:


> Thanks for a spectacular update, Mr. S. Must disembark now!




This is probably the penultimate installment of the SH. There's going to be at least one more and possibly some sort of a "10 Yrs Later" post, depending on how ambitious Shil feels for things.

I had three "cunning plans" AKA Baldric plans for that last fight.

1) The one which you saw, was the "trick aunty into accepting the trap the soul" object (no save or SR if that's the case). It went down pretty much as Shil wrote it, but I hadn't read the rules for the last fight closely enough as those sorts of spells wouldn't work in the _kuch-naa_, which Nameless would have known. However, it was just too good a scene to leave out.

2) Going Ouroboros on Mual-Tar

I thought this was one of my cleverer ideas, but I didn't have a firm idea on how to pull it off and ultimately Mual-Tar was simply too strong, even for Khat’van’ga's true form (aka re-skinned Tarrasque).

I figured since Mual-Tar was a creature of infinite hunger, if we could somehow get it to bite his own tail, it would simply eat it's self out of existence. At the time I was unaware that it's DR would not be functioning, so I didn't see any other way to take it down, with it's complete magic immunity, magic buff negating and high physical DRs.

3) My last ditch plan if we were losing would been to try and Wish myself out of existence, by wishing Edgar Thorne had been destroyed on the Day of Mourning. Since Nameless was integral to a lot of the plots and schemes we were the subjects of over the course of the campaign. I was dubious as to if Shil would even permit it, but figured it was worth a shot if things were going that badly.


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> Luckily, we have automatic new post notification and this was a great surprise. My train journey to work started off very nicely, thank you!
> 
> And... Wow. Good grief! Is it really over? Can they finally have secured the victory they needed? Did they really _all_ survive? I bet they never expected that
> 
> Thanks for a spectacular update, Mr. S. Must disembark now!




Heh! I didn't expect them to all survive this fight either. In large part, their success was due to the fact that this was one of the few times during the campaign that the PCs really coordinated their attacks and tactical choices. They did function at a pretty scary power level, so every time they did that they tended to be extremely effective. Sadly for poor Antaratma, who admittedly wasn't as tactically effective himself, since he totally was not expecting to get shunted back to Xoriat and shoved into the _kuch-naa_ (which is Hindi for "nothing"), and was really furious at being thwarted one more time.

As Rackhir indicated, there'll definitely be one more update. If you think you've seen the Guardian Angels affect Khorvaire, you ain't seen nothing yet!


----------



## Furby076

Prior to this event, Rackhir and I sat at my house one night trying to hatch the plans. There was no way we would be able to comb through the entire groups spell list and ability list to figure out what to do during session.  I think Rackhir and I sat for 1-2 hours? (do you remember rack)?  The biggest hurdle, however, was to get the entire group to work as a group and follow the plan.  Everyone wants to shine and do something cool (aka hit with big numbers), and people hate to follow orders while playing games (we do it during work all the time).  What seemed exciting in the story wasn't that exciting during game play.  For example, while the story version of the exorcism that Gareth pulled out seemed cool and amazing, it was kind of boring for me to use that ability (we also had little idea what it would really do). Then again, one of Gareth's best abilities is his incredible crit range (improved crit + Falchion), but this was killed prior to the battle (we were informed that no critting would occur, though Maultars crit ability still functioned).

 [MENTION=6694693]Rack[/MENTION] - That number 3 idea, did you get it from the Wishmaster (i believe 2) movie? In that movie the protagonist wished that the person who accidentally caused the genie lantern to be found never had accidentally found it. The person was drunk that day and that is how the lantern was found. If the person was never drunk, the lantern would never have been found.  Kind of similar to if nameless was not alive, or nameless was not in the mournland when it happened the situation would not have occurred.


----------



## shilsen

Furby076 said:


> Prior to this event, Rackhir and I sat at my house one night trying to hatch the plans. There was no way we would be able to comb through the entire groups spell list and ability list to figure out what to do during session.  I think Rackhir and I sat for 1-2 hours? (do you remember rack)?




Oh yeah - I totally forgot about that! That made a decent difference to the eventual battle, I think.



> The biggest hurdle, however, was to get the entire group to work as a group and follow the plan.




True, but in the end you all ended up working pretty cohesively, which was a big factor in how effective the group was.



> Then again, one of Gareth's best abilities is his incredible crit range (improved crit + Falchion), but this was killed prior to the battle (we were informed that no critting would occur, though Maultars crit ability still functioned).




Actually, that wasn't an element introduced for this battle. Antaratma and Mual-Tar had both always been immune to criticals. I just happened to mention it during the session so that nobody was wasting time trying to work out if they critted or not.


----------



## Rackhir

Furby076 said:


> Prior to this event, Rackhir and I sat at my house one night trying to hatch the plans. There was no way we would be able to comb through the entire groups spell list and ability list to figure out what to do during session.




I had already combed through the spell lists, that wasn't the issue, what you mention below was. I was concerned about actually getting us to work as a team for once. It was nice that it paid off in spades.



Furby076 said:


> I think Rackhir and I sat for 1-2 hours? (do you remember rack)?  The biggest hurdle, however, was to get the entire group to work as a group and follow the plan.  Everyone wants to shine and do something cool (aka hit with big numbers), and people hate to follow orders while playing games (we do it during work all the time).




IMHO, it's not a question of willingness to follow orders, I'm not big on giving orders and nobody in the group was ever very interested in taking them. It's that it can be as much as an hour in between getting to do something with your character and after waiting that time nobody really wants to just say that they are going to spend a turn waiting to disrupt casting by one of the enemies or just going I Heal X and then waiting another hour to get to do something.



Furby076 said:


> What seemed exciting in the story wasn't that exciting during game play.  For example, while the story version of the exorcism that Gareth pulled out seemed cool and amazing, it was kind of boring for me to use that ability (we also had little idea what it would really do). Then again, one of Gareth's best abilities is his incredible crit range (improved crit + Falchion), but this was killed prior to the battle (we were informed that no critting would occur, though Maultars crit ability still functioned).




I believe it wasn't technically a crit ability. 

Mual'Tar was pretty boring to fight though, since as far as I could tell, there was absolutely no scope for tactics or maneuvers or strategies. Just keep pounding on him until he dropped and even 40d6 doesn't go that far vs something with 1,500 hp or so.



Furby076 said:


> [MENTION=6694693]Rack[/MENTION] - That number 3 idea, did you get it from the Wishmaster (i believe 2) movie? In that movie the protagonist wished that the person who accidentally caused the genie lantern to be found never had accidentally found it. The person was drunk that day and that is how the lantern was found. If the person was never drunk, the lantern would never have been found.  Kind of similar to if nameless was not alive, or nameless was not in the mournland when it happened the situation would not have occurred.




I think I've seen that (or more likely had it playing in the background), but it wasn't a direct influence. 

That was Adam Warlock the old marvel comics character. He had a storyline where he went up against a galactic tyrant called Magnus, which eventually turned out to be himself from the future and so he wound up as part of a Xanatos Gambit by Thanos essentially killing himself at a future point to prevent himself from ever becoming Magnus.

Possibly a plot summary I read for "The Butterfly effect" might have influenced me, since the 



Spoiler



main character eventually realizes that the thing that's making his love interest's life awful is him and prevents himself from being born.


 But I don't think that I read that until well after.

I figured the heroic


----------



## Rackhir

Shilsen does still have at least one more post to go. He started a new job last year and moved out of the area, so he's been quite busy with that. Hopefully as the school year starts to wind down, he'll have time to get going on the ultimate/penultimate installment of the SH.


----------



## carborundum

Summer holidays yet, Mr S?


----------



## shilsen

I wish! I've been teaching this summer and am juggling rewrites and panicky student emails right now. Some of the reason for that is the course wrapping up on the 8th. Once I wrap that up and have the grades in, I'll have a couple of weeks of comparatively free time before classes start. I already started writing the last update, so hopefully I'll get it done during that point. Hopefully.


----------



## carborundum

*Re: Shilsen's Eberron SH (Die Hard 7 - Just DIE Dammit : 11/11/12)*

You busy bee, you! 
Hope you've awful weather up until you're free


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> You busy bee, you!
> Hope you've awful weather up until you're free




Hey! You're only supposed to wish such stuff on me if you're a student


----------



## carborundum

*Re: Shilsen's Eberron SH (Die Hard 7 - Just DIE Dammit : 11/11/12)*

I mean awful weather while you're stuck working and awesome days when you're on holiday


----------



## shilsen

carborundum said:


> I mean awful weather while you're stuck working and awesome days when you're on holiday




Aha! In that case, I approve, though I'm also fine with awesome days all of the time


----------



## carborundum

I've just reread this SH in all its glory - still one of my all-time faves. Did you ever write that last entry, Mr. S?
How's things, you guys?


----------



## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> I've just reread this SH in all its glory - still one of my all-time faves. Did you ever write that last entry, Mr. S?
> How's things, you guys?




Hello. Long time no see.

Shil and Gareth's player had a bad argument over how he felt Gareth was being portrayed and how he thought Shil was likely to describe Gareth's actions in the final installment of the SH. I suspect that the argument basically killed Shil's desire to finish writing it.

I'll see what I can write up from what I remember and the notes I got from Shil on it.


----------



## carborundum

Hey Rackhir, how's tricks? 
Bummer - I hope they're back on speaking terms at least. Do you guys still play? That "worst Paladin" thing sounded fun, though broke the Granny Rule here fairly quickly 

We're down to a few hours every few weeks at the minute - everyone has young kids


----------



## Neurotic

Rackhir said:


> Shil and Gareth's player had a bad argument over how he felt Gareth was being portrayed and how he thought Shil was likely to describe Gareth's actions in the final installment of the SH.




Was the player right? Would Shil really describe him against his players wishes?

And not to put too fine point to it, could you get Shilsen to do a write up? I have nothing against your writing, mind, but its Shilsens story hour...

I certainly hope you guys are still playing and there is hope that we will see another awesome story hour


----------



## shilsen

Rackhir said:


> Hello. Long time no see.
> 
> Shil and Gareth's player had a bad argument over how he felt Gareth was being portrayed and how he thought Shil was likely to describe Gareth's actions in the final installment of the SH. I suspect that the argument basically killed Shil's desire to finish writing it.
> 
> I'll see what I can write up from what I remember and the notes I got from Shil on it.




Long time no see is right!

Honestly, it was less the argument and more the fact that Gareth's player evidently misunderstood a major element in a decision the group had to make in the last session, which would have rendered unnecessary a big discussion/disagreement that ensued. So that meant I'd have had to significantly rework some stuff if writing it up. That, combined with a combo of moving over to a job that (still) keeps me far busier than when we used to game, and the inertia of not having written it up thus far and progressively more time passing, kept me from it.

But what the hell - I'll wrap it up finally this summer while on partial break. Rackhir, if you wanna write something up and send it to me, I'll build on that and come up with a conclusion (considering what happened, it would certainly be a couple installments).


----------



## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> Hey Rackhir, how's tricks?
> Bummer - I hope they're back on speaking terms at least. Do you guys still play? That "worst Paladin" thing sounded fun, though broke the Granny Rule here fairly quickly
> 
> We're down to a few hours every few weeks at the minute - everyone has young kids




Shilsen moved away about 2 yrs ago. So we haven't been gaming together since then. We did do a second campaign after the end of the Angel's, using the Pathfinder Kingmaker campaign.



Neurotic said:


> Was the player right? Would Shil really describe him against his players wishes?




I would direct you to the classic Japanese tale Rashomon. 

The point being that very few people hold an opinion/position because they think it is unreasonable and baseless. Everyone has reasons and justifications that make sense to them and I'm certain that's the case for Gareth's player.

While Shilsen has many talents and skills, telepathy is not one of them (or at least he's using his telepathic powers to force me to say that). So what ever reasons and justifications Gareth's player has are unknown to him or me for that matter.

If he still pays attention to or gets emails about messages, I'll leave them up to him to state those reasons.



Neurotic said:


> And not to put too fine point to it, could you get Shilsen to do a write up? I have nothing against your writing, mind, but its Shilsens story hour...




I don't suffer from the delusion that I am as good a storyteller as he is and have absolutely no objections to him doing so, I was simply operating under the assumption that if he hadn't done so in roughly 2 yrs he was unlikely to actually do so.

Obviously as has been amply demonstrated on multiple occasions (including this one), I can not read Shil's mind either, but you can probably thank Carborundum for raising the question and sparking this chain of messages.

In fact Carborundum.  By the power invested in me (by nobody really) I here by dub thee "#1 Fan of the Guardian Angels", with all privileges, responsibilities and insanity entailed within.

On a side note, if you are interested in how I would write something up I did actually write about 95% of one of the installments, with Shil tweeking things to his satisfaction. It was the one where we took down Erma's Emerald claw base of operations.

http://www.enworld.org/forum/showth...1-12)/page72&p=3946623&viewfull=1#post3946623 

Probably, my biggest weakness is I can't do the other character's voices. Nameless, being my character, is no problem and that's why the installment is pretty much exclusively from within his head.



Neurotic said:


> I certainly hope you guys are still playing and there is hope that we will see another awesome story hour




A story hour is a LOT of work and Shil (from what he has told me) is not inclined to do it a second time (nor can I blame him for this). 

I acted as more or less the "editor" for lack of a better word on the SH, going over things and making comments/suggestions, things where my memories of what happened were different than his, or places where he'd forgotten things or where I thought something was out of character. Just doing that consumed a few hours on my part for each post.

Shil is I'm certain a much faster writer than I am, but I can't really imagine how many hours he spent writing it all up.

This story hour is after all, probably a decent sized novel. The amount of time and effort involved in writing up a long running campaign is I'm certain, the main reason why so many get started and then just sort of fade away. 

It is kind of a shame though, I had much more fun in many respects, with the kingmaker campaign that followed this one, than I did in the Angel's campaign. 

Part of it was my character "Grabthar" as in "By Grabthar's Hammer, you shall be avenged!" (Yes he had a hammer and wandered around looking for something to avenge). He was the polar opposite of Nameless (by design) and was much more upbeat, positive and energetic. Nameless was pretty much always looking for a "good" death, by way of contrast.

It had probably the best ending of any campaign or at the very least the most fitting. In a climatic duel with our arch enemies just after one of our comrades was slain, I landed 4 out of 4 hits on the main enemy, with 3 of them being criticals. 

Crits from a max power attacking, Monkey's grip (larger weapon), crit focused barbarian. 

It exceeded the overkill record for the Angel's campaign...

"By Grabthar's Hammer, you shall be avenged!" indeed and it will always be one of my fondest D&D memories.

It also had one of my favorite scenes in which after getting snookered once again by Shil, I exclaimed in despair "I can't out think you Shil". 

Which lead to (IMHO) one of my finest moments, when I realized "He can't out think us! IF WE DON'T KNOW WHAT WE ARE DOING!!!" and turned things around for us. 



			
				Shilsen said:
			
		

> But what the hell - I'll wrap it up finally this summer while on partial break. Rackhir, if you wanna write something up and send it to me, I'll build on that and come up with a conclusion (considering what happened, it would certainly be a couple installments).




I'll send you what I've written from Nameless's point of view Shil and I'll work on a postscript to the campaign with my thoughts on it.

*[HI]By the way. Given that we've only ever gotten a handful of people actually commenting in the SH and that this is one of the top ten most "viewed" SH of all time on ENWorld, I'd really love to hear from whomever else has ever read this.

It's always puzzled me that there were so many views and so few comments.[/HI]*


----------



## Neurotic

I know (I think we all do) that it is very much like another job, writing these story hours. But there are few authors that could do well transcripting their story hours into novels And I think Shilsen is one of them. Lazybones did it, Sagiro did it - although his comments indicate there is much to rewrite to remove direct references to game mechanics. Today it is less of a problem to get a publisher as there are few sites that publish PDF / ebook versions and there is Kickstarter to fund "real" printing.

Or maybe it is only dozen of fans here who refreshed really often


----------



## shilsen

Neurotic said:


> I know (I think we all do) that it is very much like another job, writing these story hours. But there are few authors that could do well transcripting their story hours into novels And I think Shilsen is one of them. Lazybones did it, Sagiro did it - although his comments indicate there is much to rewrite to remove direct references to game mechanics. Today it is less of a problem to get a publisher as there are few sites that publish PDF / ebook versions and there is Kickstarter to fund "real" printing.




I appreciate the compliment, but there is definitely no way I'd have time for that with my day job.



> Or maybe it is only dozen of fans here who refreshed really often




I always thought 50% of it was just me


----------



## Furby076

Neurotic said:


> Was the player right? Would Shil really describe him against his players wishes?




As the player, yes I believe Shil would do that.  Shil has many talents, tells a great story, and is able to manage large campaigns (which is difficult to say the least). In my opinion, he is hard headed (so am I).  While I don't know what Shil is doing these days, I'm sure his lack of writing just has been about him being busy, and not terribly caring what I think (it would be a rarity).



Rackhir said:


> The point being that very few people hold an opinion/position because they think it is unreasonable and baseless. Everyone has reasons and justifications that make sense to them and I'm certain that's the case for Gareth's player.
> 
> While Shilsen has many talents and skills, telepathy is not one of them (or at least he's using his telepathic powers to force me to say that). So what ever reasons and justifications Gareth's player has are unknown to him or me for that matter.
> 
> If he still pays attention to or gets emails about messages, I'll leave them up to him to state those reasons.




I stated my reasons a long time ago, multiple times. Even in the arguments that we had.  Both in game justification and out of game justification. Each player had a specific goal for their character.  I believe Korm's player wanted his player to have statues and be remembered (even a series of chain restaurants).  Six's player wanted his character to be the patron saint (for lack of better words) of his kind.  Luna wanted to go back to complete her house and have a litter of whatever comes out of a pregnant Luna.  I wanted my character to go back and continue his work to restore the Silver Flame as well as get married to the woman he loved.  So which players direction for their character is more or less important then the others?  Nobody - it was the end of a long campaign and I honestly believe everyone should be able to end the story in a way that makes them happy.  The major disagreement at the end was how we would divy up the points to use (sacrificing our levels).  I wonder if Shil did it that way to cause some strife - he was known for that (he even has said he likes putting the group in a situation where situations cause conflict). You know, the whole -you get awesome X, but will suffer in some hideous ways. Or, make this decision which helps one character, but then you will not have time to do the thing that will help the other character. It's fine, it was his style.

Shil and I disagreed a lot. You and I disagreed a lot. You and Shil also disagreed a lot. We disagreed.

Shil/you will write whatever you guys feel like.


----------



## shilsen

*AFTERMATH (Part 1)*

And finally, only a few years late, here is the completion of the tale of the Guardian Angels...

* * * * * 
“What?” says Korm, floating around to face Nameless. “What do you mean you won’t be coming with us?”

Six queries too, “Can you even survive here? And for how long?”

Gareth asks, “Why would you choose to stay behind?”

Luna puts it more succinctly. “Are you NUTS???”

The alienist closes his eyes for a few seconds. Now, with the battle over, Nameless is free to fully experience—and revel in—his connection with Xoriat, one far closer than any alienist (or, likely, mortal human) has ever experienced. The combination of the silver energy within him and his position within the _kuch-naa_ fills him with not just energy but also an almost overwhelming amount of information. Back on Khorvaire, even his stupendous intellect might have been overwhelmed by it, but in his state of heightened power and awareness, he can withstand and even assimilate much of it, though even that takes some effort.

Reopening his eyes, Nameless begins to speak, attempting to translate the knowledge that he feels viscerally into words that his companions can comprehend. “Unfortunately, there is no easy way back to Eberron from where we are. No normal spell or mage, even one as powerful as I am, could escape this place. A _wish_, if one were able to exist here long enough to cast it, would do nothing. Right now, however, we hold an immense amount of power in our hands, more than that of a thousand _wish_es—all that Mual’tar and,” he smirks, glancing at the spot that the daelkyr lord had so recently occupied, “Aunty drained from the Silver Flame and the Mournland, as well as the considerable other energies they contained.” 

“With that power, we have the ability to heal much of the harm that we have—however inadvertently—caused. We can reshape the face of Eberron, altering its destiny for centuries to come. However,” he adds quickly, seeing the impending questions on the faces of his companions, “this energy we have is not infinite. There is a way that we can accomplish most of it, but, as always, this power comes with a price—everything that we have accumulated and even our lives.”

“Wha- ?!”

Nameless raises his tentacle to silence the others. “Let me explain. We will have to use a significant amount of the energy we have to force open a gate back to Eberron and we will have to spend more of it for each person who chooses to return, because each gate will only open for a fraction of a moment. Passing through will drain you of even more life energy, so you will return to Khorvaire diminished from what you were before you left it. However, if we do not go back—the willing sacrifice of the life of someone as powerful as each of us will substantially augment the energy we have.”

The alienist’s rasping tones are as dispassionate as ever when he mentions the possibility of death, and he calmly continues, “Now to our choices. First, the dimensional seals must be restored. Eberron will never be able to withstand the forces from Xoriat, which continue to enter Khorvaire even now. So we must do that before anything else.” 

“We could permanently seal Xoriat away, but that would take a great deal of energy and,” he smiles thinly, “for sentimental reasons I would like there to remain at least some fragment of connection to Xoriat. Things would not be the same without it and who knows what the future may bring? Someday it might even be needed.”

“Personally, I wish to heal the Mournland. I was there at its creation and it seems fitting that my passing should finally heal that wound. So, for that, I am willing to give up my life. I will not be returning to Eberron. What say you all?” There is complete finality in Nameless’ tones as he falls silent, looking around at his companions for their responses.

There is silence for a few moments. Even though they would not have been able to decipher this information on their own, their connection to Xoriat and to Nameless through their shared access to the silver energy allows them to quickly realize the truth of his words. Each member of the Angels mulls over the enormity of what he has said and the options available to them. 

Luna’s mind flits over the situation in Khorvaire, the myriad things the Angels have seen and the people they have interacted with, and though Nameless’ words speak of large issues like the Mournland and the dimensional seals, her thoughts continually return to more personal things—her room at the Gray House, the plans she had made for seeing more of the world (perhaps with a certain handsome pirate prince in tow), and, above all, the changes that had happened within her even before she was filled with such power. 

She shakes her head decisively. “I AM _NOT_ DYING! I’m having babies!” She pauses to mutter, “Whatever they are …,” and then looks around belligerently, just in case there is any disagreement. Seeing none, her expression changes and she smiles. “But I will give you as much energy as I can.” The smile turns wistful. “I wish you were coming back, Nameless. I will miss you,” Luna says, but the tone holds no hope of changing the alienist’s mind. Then her expression turns more serious again, “And I am keeping my stuff! Nobody gets to take that!”

“Perish the thought,” Nameless said dryly. “You’ll be the best equipped novice druid in Eberron.”

Korm chuckles deeply. “Especially since you can take mine too! I am not going back either.” At Luna’s startled glance, the Gatekeeper shrugs his massive shoulders. “I never expected to come back from this alive. I just wanted to be a worthy wielder of the blade—and to become famous, like the great Gatekeepers before me. I think,” he laughs proudly, “that has been achieved. And,” he glances at Nameless, “if we can strengthen the dimensional seals—and heal the Mournland—which I would like to do too, then they will be making statues and singing songs about me forever! Oh,” he turns to Luna, “and eating at my restaurants. Since I’m not going back, you need to open the chain for me!”

Luna nods and begins to answer when Six speaks, slower and even more precise than usual, “I too would like the Mournland healed, but I ask that we try something else as well. My people have no future, as things currently stand. There are no active creation forges to make new warforged—certainly none in our hands. I would like to reactivate one and ensure that we have control over it. I …,” Six pauses uncharacteristically, a slight hint of emotion creeping into his voice, “wish to guide my people as best I can, and will sacrifice myself to do so. Something of the kind should be possible—Nameless?”

“Certainly,” says the alienist. “We can simply transport a creation forge to an isolated island. Your people do not drown, so perhaps you can found the warforged seafaring nation that Luna spoke of.”

“YES!” Luna says enthusiastically. “PIRATES! Just like my boyfriend!”

Nameless sighs and continues, “As to guiding your people, it would just be… an echo of yourself, but that will not take much power. Your people will be more fortunate than they know in having your advice.”

“Wait!” interrupts Gareth. “What about the Silver Flame? If we can do all this, we can certainly bring it back—and all of you, all of us, owe the Flame. That is much more important than things like the Mournland!” 

“Yes, we are quite aware of our debts, Gareth,” Nameless replies dryly, “but we have limited resources. Even if we were willing to give up everything other than the dimensional seals, I am not sure we could fully restore it even then. The Silver Flame is an artifact of belief and sacrifice. None of us save you are believers or have any faith in it. Speaking of which—do you intend to stay here or return to Khorvaire?”

“I have to return,” Gareth quickly responds. “I am getting married! And there is much more I have to do in Khorvaire! The Silver Flame needs…”

Speaking with deceptive mildness, Nameless cuts him off. “Gareth, let me see if I am understanding you correctly. You know that Korm, Six and I have already agreed to give up not just all our power, but our very lives, everything we are or would ever be. Yet, you—who are unwilling to make the same sacrifice—want us to not heal the Mournland in order to restore the symbol and focus of _your_ religion.”

“You do realize, Gareth,” he continues, voice rising as he goes on, “that you have an opportunity here to do what only _one_ person in the history of Eberron has ever had. You can give life back to the Silver Flame, restoring it to Khorvaire after it was quenched. Your name would be forever mentioned in the same breath as Tira Miron and you would have equal status to her in the annals of your church. Your spirit would be a major part of the focus of your religion. And yet you ask us to give up our goals?”

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

The silence is punctuated by Korm’s guffaws. “Damn you two! This is why I cannot return to Khorvaire. Where would I ever find entertainment like this again?!”

Gareth ignores the Gatekeeper’s laughter (and that of Luna and Six, which follows close behind), his face crimsoning as he responds angrily, “For the last time, Nameless, just because you have always been willing to kill yourself does not mean I want to do so. You are not responsible for the Mournland. You did not destroy it. You are, however, responsible for destroying the evil we just fought—you and the rest of us. We started together, fighting and losing to bandits, and here we are—in some place no human has ever been—and still fighting each other.  You may want to, but I do not want to die when there is still much good I can do.  There is much you could do … but it’s your life and choice.”

“There is,” he continues, waving a hand at the ‘window’ back to Khorvaire, “a lot that needs to be done, and few out there who can or are willing to. We would serve the realms so much better by being alive to fight the fight—but you have always been too eager to die. It is my choice to live. We all have our motivations: Six wants to die and help the warforged; Korm wants to die to heal the seals and have statues erected in his name. We have limited resources to help Khorvaire and many options. First we must shut down this link to Xoriat—at least we all agree on that. As usual, for us, we agree on nothing else.”

“I will,” Gareth adds, “sacrifice most of my life force, all but what is needed to live, and I want that energy to go towards healing the Silver Flame. The Church was instrumental in getting us here, from the miracles they created to bring us back to life, to the energy we have been imbued with, to the resources they provided and the political support they gave us when others would not.  How could you turn your back on them now? Instead you want to heal the Mournland, an immense plot of land which nobody lives on, and where all who have died would remain dead anyway. I will say,” he glances at Six, “that I am fine with imbuing the warforged with additional abilities, but we can’t have everything. We need to agree.”

Nameless gives Gareth a dirty look. “You know what—I am just too tired to argue any more. We will bring back the Flame as a pale shadow of what it once was. What you are giving up is insufficient to do even that, but I will devote some of my energy to it. To be honest, it is only for Jaela’s sake that I would be willing to do anything at all. I am quite fond of her and hold her in high regard. She’s one of the few people in Khorvaire who has earned my respect and admiration. She may no longer be the keeper, but I owe her, not your religion, and I know this will comfort her somewhat. Besides, it should be amusing to have some of my essence in the Silver Flame. So though we cannot restore it to its full former power we will bring back the Flame—_and_ we will also heal the Mournland.”

“Now I do want you to understand exactly what I am surrendering myself to, by giving up my life. See that?” He gestures at the monstrous figures crawling around the outside of the _kuch-naa_. “I struck a bargain with a Great Old One for the powers I obtained and, as part of that bargain, when I die I am going to be subsumed by Cyäegha. Do you remember what probing the Ziggurat did to your fragile little mind? This is going to be infinitely worse, far beyond your imaginings, and given that time does not exist for them, it will go on forever. This bargain I made of my own free will, with full knowledge of what would happen, because I needed the power to help save Eberron.” 

“I have always wondered how I would face my end when it came. If I would cower in a basement hiding from the full horror of what was going to happen to me or if I would be roaring my defiance into the face of a storm, but it is neither. I am ending my life calmly and in the fulfillment of a long held dream.” 

“While,” he adds disdainfully, “you need to go and get married. So go and do that. I no longer care. I have sacrificed much and am giving up more.”

Nameless sighs. “You say I am eager to die and there is some truth in that. I am tired, so very, very tired. I lost a piece of myself when Kha’tvan’ga was destroyed—it was no mere companion, but part of me. I am weary of catastrophes threatened by a single wrong move and having the fate of Eberron resting on my shoulders, not to mention having to ride herd on our merry band of maniacs. I know you have always been suspicious of me and I am tired of that as well. My conscience is clear. So go now, Gareth. You have, for the last time, confirmed my option of you.”

Before Gareth can respond, the alienist looks around. “Let us do this! Link your minds with mine.”

Not wanting to waste any more time arguing, Luna, Six and Korm comply, and Gareth does so a few moments later. Already imbued with incredible power as they individually were, the five Guardian Angels feel an instant upsurge of soul energy as they will themselves to link up, minds momentarily reeling as they realize that this is what it must feel like to be gods. And then, like gods, they simply will things into being…


----------



## shilsen

*AFTERMATH (Part 2)*

Those within the Mournland who had participated in the battle and could watch the events in Xoriat via the window between the planes see the Angels stop moving, simply floating in space. Then, streams of silver light begin to flow out of their bodies, thickening into clouds of mist that blot out the scene. The clouds flow out of the portal and into Khorvaire, gradually fading into nothingness as they do so. At first, they later report, there was no other appreciable difference. At first.

* * * * * 
Somewhere in the Shadow Marches, Gurr’khan sits bolt upright, sniffing the air around him. The Gatekeeper rises and strides out of the chamber, passing down a hallway. At the end, a dozen Gatekeepers, druids and warriors, who had been guarding a stone door, are staring at it in worried confusion. 

Gurr’khan peremptorily gestures them aside and makes a motion, causing the door to roll aside. Ignoring the gasps and questions from the others, he steps into the chamber beyond. Before him lies a gigantic dimensional seal, floating in mid-air above a roiling pool of elemental energy. 

Or what was a roiling pool. For the first time in his life, the old Gatekeeper sees the pool, simultaneously a metaphor and a concrete manifestation of the chaos that is Xoriat, completely quiescent, its surface smooth and unmoving.

Gurr’khan stares at it for a few moments and then, to the confusion of those watching, begins to laugh, great gusts of merriment shaking his frame.

* * * * * 
The Chamber of the Silver Flame now lies deserted, though the rubble has been cleared away. There is no light here and no sound, other than a faint sniffling. 

And then the darkness retreats, softly and slowly as the ocean’s tide, as something blooms in the darkness. A silver spark, which slowly grows into a tiny flame, no larger than that atop by a candle. It hangs in the middle of the chamber, three feet off the ground, moving slightly as if touched by an invisible wind.

Soft steps move hesitantly forward and then a small, dark hand reaches toward the flame. It stops a few inches away and then the chamber is lit more brightly, as argent fire surrounds the hand, outlining but not burning it.

“Look! Look, Skaravojen—it’s back!” says Jaela Daran, once more Keeper of the Flame. There is a thumping sound as her dragonhound companion enthusiastically smacks his tail on the floor.

Within minutes, bells begin to ring out, first from the Cathedral, then across Flamekeep, then across Thrane, and finally over all of Khorvaire, as acolytes and priests, clerics and paladins, shout and celebrate in wonder at this miracle.

* * * * * 
In the Cogs below Sharn, Smith bends over the altar above the Pool of Onatar’s Tears, not in prayer, but staring at the markings that appear to have been etched into its hitherto pristine surface. His metal finger slowly, reverently, traces the silhouette of the structure in the center of the marks, one that he has not seem since he, years ago, emerged from the depths of one in a Cannith enclave in Cyre. Knowledge fills his mind that did not exist moments ago, knowledge of its workings and secrets. _A creation forge!_

The warforged priest looks up suddenly and then slowly nods, his mechanical eyes fixed on a spot before him where, as any observer could note, nothing stands. “To the north?” he says softly. “All right. Thank you!”

* * * * * 
Some of the warriors in the army in the Mournland point upward, shouting in surprise. Above and around them, something appears that has not been seen here since the destruction of Cyre. Sunlight. Beams of sunlight begin to pierce the ceiling of the Dead-Gray Mist, as it gradually dissipates and rolls apart, like clouds driven and tattered by the wind. A circle forms and begins to widen at great speed.

Those with magical fluency swiftly realize that conditions have changed, arcane items that had been suppressed or affected by the Mournland’s strange restrictions now flaring back to normal functioning. Corven turns to a wounded Brelish soldier nearby and activates a wand. Seeing the woman’s wounds close, the artificer says, “Damn! I don’t believe it! Do you see this?” The question is Cedric, who had joined him a little earlier, after having collected the Thranish troops into a group. The paladin, who has been studying his holy symbol, looks up at the window to Xoriat, now opaque with silver mist. “I do!” he says softly, his voice unusually reverent. Mostly to himself, he mutters, “I hadn’t realized how much I missed it.”

With it becoming clear that healing magic now works here, those with such power quickly fall to helping the wounded. Though the combined Khorvairan forces have easily driven the aberrations, which fell into utter disarray with the disappearance of Antaratma, from the field, many scores lay dead in the aftermath, with even more suffering from the lack of healing here. 

Evidently healing magic is not the only thing that is possible now. The three surviving dragons had drawn apart from the humanoids and clustered together around the bodies of their two slain compatriots. Now two of them speak arcane words and disappear, along with the corpses. The last, Essirise, takes wing, soaring upward and passing through the widening hole in the Mist above. Emerging above it, she takes a quick look around and then heads south, disappearing out of sight beyond the edges of the increasing gap. 

Others also take advantage of the access to teleportation. King Kaius, who has been speaking to Maddox Kaminaar near the survivors of the Karrnathi contingent, says a few more words to the bone knight and then triggers a ring and disappears. Madra Sil Sarin wraps her cloak around herself and fades from view. A fading green glow marks where Titania, lady of the eladrin, stood moments ago.

At this moment, a particularly thick stream of silvery light descends from the window to Xoriat, which promptly begins to shrink. The light descends, in roiling waves, onto the ground of the Mournland and quickly resolves itself into the forms of the Guardian Angels. Gareth and Luna stand in front, their faces drawn and weary, oddly pallid, but they are much more solid than the three shapes behind them. Korm’akhan, Six and Nameless appear translucent, the landscape visible through them. A moment later, as the window above them disappears, the silvery light fades and they are gone, leaving only Luna and Gareth.

A small crowd of exceedingly odd individuals hurry to their side—a Sentinel Marshal from Sharn and an old woman from Karrnath, the general of the armies of Thrane and a Karrnathi bone knight, a former street urchin and a disgruntled beholder. Multiple voices ring out together. 

“WELL?!”

* * * * * 
The end of the War of the Angels led to arguably even more unprecedented changes than the end of the Last War. Instead of a magical wasteland that was blocked off from everyone, the nation of Cyre now lay open to all, a gigantic graveyard full of treasure and riches, albeit one still inhabited by all sorts of dangers and monsters.

Likely the only thing that prevented another war over its riches was the losses suffered by the various nations and the unexpected bonds forged among them in fighting Xoriat. For the first time in over a century, forces belonging to all the nations of Galifar had fought side by side, and that memory was not allowed to fade, as unexpected allies worked together to propagate the concept of unity. The Korranberg Chronicle trumpeted news of the victory and of the sacrifices of not just the Angels but all of Khorvaire for months. Thrane, buoyed at the return of the Silver Flame, threw its support squarely behind Breland’s call for greater diplomatic relations between the nations. To the surprise of many, Karrnath fully supported this move, Kaius joining Boranel and Jaela Daran in calling for the Second Council of Thronehold. Even more amazingly, the Hags of Droaam pledged their full support and were rewarded by a seat at the Second Council, with the nation of Droaam being officially recognized as a country in the Second Thronehold Accords that followed the Council. As was the Protectorate of Cyre.

Instead of another war over the land of Cyre, what followed was a peaceful influx of colonists from across Khorvaire, led by former Cyrans and aided by troops from every nation. Slowly but surely, the land was cleansed and reclaimed, and construction begun of a brand-new capital, appropriately called New Cyre. 

* * * * * 
Naturally, memorials of the Guardian Angels proliferated across the continent, ranging from the action figures that House Cannith created to the various monuments that were created, the greatest of them the Pillar of the Angels in New Cyre. 

A much starker reminder of their activities was the mile-long scar that never disappeared from the surface of Cyre, marking where the final battle against Antaratma and Mual’Tar had begun. Nothing would ever grow there and, eventually, the Gatekeepers were given permission to grow a gigantic grove in a ring around the spot, and to guard it from the odd cultist and, more commonly, tourists who would seek to visit the place. 

Various legends grew up around the Grove of the Angels, most of them almost certainly false. The only one that appeared to be true, confirmed by hundreds of watchers every year, was that a great silver dragon would descend onto the Scar at dusk on every anniversary of the battle. It would sit there silently through the night, staring at the moons and the Ring of Siberys as it revolved above, and then disappear into the sky again as dawn arose.

As for the surviving Angels, Luna and Gareth initially returned to Sharn. Both were heavily diminished by their experience on Xoriat, and nothing they could do would ever increase their power again. But they were two of the richest and best known individuals in Khorvaire and, though they did have some enemies remaining, they led a charmed life. Foes discovered that attacking them instantly led a deadly group of guardians to appear from nowhere. 

As he had intended, Gareth married Lalia at the most lavish marriage seen in Sharn in living memory, with a collection of guests that no monarch could rival. Afterward, he moved to his estate outside Karrlakton, though its magical link to Sharn meant that he essentially lived in the two nations, eventually taking over as the Karrnathi ambassador to Sharn, speaking for the Silver Flame in both political and theological venues. In view of the weakening of the Silver Flame, he had much to do in both areas.

After serving simultaneously as maid of honor and master-of-ceremonies at Gareth’s wedding, Luna took over ownership (and, of course, interior decoration) of the Gray House. She also became a fixture in Sharn high society, though the resources that she possessed meant that she also spent a significant amount of time traveling. Much of the time she was in the Lhazaar Principalities, usually at the home of Prince Oargev, though rumors also claimed that she traveled to some other unnamed location in the area. Uncharacteristically, she refused to answer questions about such activities, other than sometimes saying “Aaarrr!” and winking meaningfully at interlocutors.

As for the Guardian Angels who had sacrificed their lives…

Shortly after the end of the War, a small cult grew up around Six, some of the more religious warforged seeing him as a representative of Onatar who had actually walked the ground of Khorvaire. Rumors spread that his influence had manifested in other ways, granting unusual powers to some of his chosen. Smith, the custodian of the Pool of Onatar’s Tears, denied such stories when interviewed by the Korranberg Chronicle, but the disappearance of the priest (and a number of other prominent warforged individuals) from Sharn shortly afterward only added to the rumors. Some said that he was later sighted in the Lhazaar Principalities with Luna, but there was no proof of such an event.

The active role of the Gatekeepers against the forces of Xoriat, especially in the Shadow Marches, led to a significant increase in their numbers after the War of the Angels ended. Thousands, whether young acolytes or experienced warriors, joined their ranks, swelling the Gatekeepers to numbers unseen since in a millennium. The most skilled were formed into an elite brigade, Bearers of the Blade, tasked to travel the Marches and eradicate remaining aberration forces. They wielded swords fashioned to resemble Korm’akhan’s meteoric sword, a right gained by passing a series of secret trials, rumored to be administered by a giant beholder, and took him as their model. Beyond the Marches, of course, Korm was most widely commemorated by the chain of Spice Hut restaurants that Luna talked House Ghallanda into creating.

Of Nameless nothing more was ever known. 

Except to one, who sat in a silent chamber in Sharn, over a certain staff, sent back to her via Luna from Xoriat.

Though the Plane of Madness was now blocked from Khorvaire, Trillia Lelleir knew she was looking into a part of it, one last gift from Nameless allowing her to look across space and time to where those concepts had no meaning …

Nameless stood alone in the middle of nothingness, at the center of the _kuch-naa_. “You can enter now. I know you can go where nothing can go, because you are already here. I am already here.”

A shadow split off from Cyäegha’s form, the only one remaining beyond the barrier of the nothingness. Slowly, it seeped through the barrier toward Nameless, who smiled faintly.

“I apologize for being so slow to realize why you have aided me. No mortal regardless of their power or the manipulations of even a Daelkyr Lord could possibly have gained your attention.”

“But you do exist outside of time. ‘The Old Ones Were. The Old Ones Are and the Old Ones Shall Be.’ As it is said. You helped because I am a part of you and always have been and always shall be.” 

The shadow crept over Nameless and his shape slowly dissolved, as did the vision.

* * * * *

In short, though it would be far too simplistic to say that all was well with Khorvaire, in the aftermath of the War of the Angels, the scars of the Last War were eased and the nations united as Khorvaire had not been since Galifar sundered. Scholars theorized that this could be the dawning of a new age of peace.

…until Luna’s children were born.


----------



## carrot

Wow - hadn't realised quite how much I had missed this story hour. Awesome as always


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## Neurotic

But it is finished


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## shilsen

carrot said:


> Wow - hadn't realised quite how much I had missed this story hour. Awesome as always




Thanks! It was fun doing the wrap-up, especially after _so_ long.



Neurotic said:


> But it is finished




Sorry, but all good things must end, and this has been a long ride! 

Not just because of how long I kept the conclusion hanging too. While doing the ending I went back and looked at my earlier documents, and the writeups for the first 20 sessions took 78,000+ words. My doctoral dissertation took 60,000!


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## Neurotic

shilsen said:


> While doing the ending I went back and looked at my earlier documents, and the writeups for the first 20 sessions took 78,000+ words. My doctoral dissertation took 60,000!




That sounds about right  I'd say you need to keep writing instead of doctoring (yes, I understand you're not a medical doctor, this is just a play on words)
Thank you for your great work. Have any others beside the worst paladin?


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## carborundum

Wow - that was ... awesome and kind of harsh. Fitting for Xoriat  Thanks for coming back and rounding it all off, Shilsen! 

I've been out of rotation for ages too - two young sprogs will do that. I wish the Angels and their DM many many happy games together, and if you ever post any more Stories drop a note in this thread so I hear about it! 

I have two questions - was there a thread somewhere with stats from this campaign? And was there ever a worst paladin Story anywhere? Peace out, and sleep well!


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## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> Wow - that was ... awesome and kind of harsh. Fitting for Xoriat  Thanks for coming back and rounding it all off, Shilsen!




What do you mean by "harsh"?



carborundum said:


> I have two questions - was there a thread somewhere with stats from this campaign?




This is the Rogues Gallery thread. Only Nameless and Garreth have their final 20th lv incarnations, though Shil could add the rest of the Angels. There are also some of the NPCs we fought.

http://www.enworld.org/forum/showthread.php?182305-Rogues-Gallery-for-Shilsen-s-Saturday-Story-Hour



carborundum said:


> And was there ever a worst paladin Story anywhere? Peace out, and sleep well!




AFAIK, just the ones from the original thread, though Cedric did show up in this as well of course.


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## carborundum

Rackhir said:


> What do you mean by "harsh"?




I'm not sure I'd dare finish a 20th level campaign with a sacrifice of all those lovely levels. Then again, my players are of the miniatures and battle-maps variety, more play than role 
Thanks for the Rogues Gallery link, I'd forgotten about that. Time for much scrolling...

EDIT: Oh, there's just the one page. Mr. Shilsen... if you're ever bored, feel free to plop down all your creations, from the sahuagin mutant to the Daelkyr Lord and all sorts of jolliness in between 
Actually, I think I'm going to re-read the lot now. I've just finished an Abernathy's Company reread, so it's about time.


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## shilsen

Neurotic said:


> That sounds about right  I'd say you need to keep writing instead of doctoring (yes, I understand you're not a medical doctor, this is just a play on words)




Thanks. Someday!



> Thank you for your great work. Have any others beside the worst paladin?




Nah. But if you, or anyone else, is really interested in reading, I've been running another Eberron campaign by play-by-post on the site Playbyweb, for a bunch of my friends in India who are total newbies. It's in the D&D 3ed section and is called JUDE Eberron Game. Some of the plots and NPCs from this campaign make a reappearance there. It's not a Story Hour, of course, but is a lot like one unfolding in play.

Here's a link to it.



carborundum said:


> Wow - that was ... awesome and kind of harsh. Fitting for Xoriat  Thanks for coming back and rounding it all off, Shilsen!




Thanks. Slow but sure, that's me 



> I've been out of rotation for ages too - two young sprogs will do that. I wish the Angels and their DM many many happy games together, and if you ever post any more Stories drop a note in this thread so I hear about it!




Will do. See above about my current game.



> I have two questions - was there a thread somewhere with stats from this campaign? And was there ever a worst paladin Story anywhere? Peace out, and sleep well!




What Rackhir said.

I'll dig up the 20th level versions of the other PCs and add them there sometime.


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## Rackhir

carborundum said:


> I'm not sure I'd dare finish a 20th level campaign with a sacrifice of all those lovely levels. Then again, my players are of the miniatures and battle-maps variety, more play than role




Well it was The END. So it was kinda irrelevant what happened to them after it in a sense. We weren't going to continue playing them regardless. But to heal the Mournland, Nameless would have given up his life regardless, to misquote Bruce Wayne from TDKR, "It was a good enough death".


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## shilsen

carborundum said:


> I'm not sure I'd dare finish a 20th level campaign with a sacrifice of all those lovely levels. Then again, my players are of the miniatures and battle-maps variety, more play than role




What Rackhir said. I thoroughly appreciated the fact that even though the sacrifices obviously would not affect our game any more, since the campaign was ending, the players totally went with whatever made most sense for the PCs as they had played them throughout the campaign.

Actually, I did manage to make their actions count beyond the campaign in one sense. When I went on to run a Kingmaker campaign set in Eberron (which I didn't write up, due to a lack of time), it picked up a few months after this one ended and the actions and events of this campaign were part and parcel of the world that the new PCs inhabited.



> Thanks for the Rogues Gallery link, I'd forgotten about that. Time for much scrolling...
> 
> EDIT: Oh, there's just the one page. Mr. Shilsen... if you're ever bored, feel free to plop down all your creations, from the sahuagin mutant to the Daelkyr Lord and all sorts of jolliness in between
> Actually, I think I'm going to re-read the lot now. I've just finished an Abernathy's Company reread, so it's about time.




Just added Luna, Six (for whom I couldn't find the 20th level stats, so I used his 19th level ones) and Korm to the thread.


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## Rackhir

*By Grabthar's hammer... <SOB>*

Alan Rickman died this morning. His character in Galaxy Quest gave me one of my favorite characters, 

He was of course based on Alan Rickman's immortal line.

“By Grabthar’s hammer, by the suns of Warvan, you shall be avenged!”

Grabthar, the master of splatter patterns from overkill crits, has shed a single tear of sorrow.


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