# Delgar's Eberron Campaign



## Delgar (Feb 2, 2010)

OKay this is not going to be your typical story hour. More a collection of Cut Scenes and little bits of role-playing, plus some updates on my players progress. It's more a central repository for me to put down what's going on. Feel free to read, enjoy and comment as you wish. 

So we started playing a while ago, for most of us this is our first foray into 4th edition DnD. We are playing the game online, using maptools and skype. But the biggest challenge is getting a time when everyone can play as we straddle 3 different time zones. Stupid life, thinks it's so cool. So, we've played 7 online sessions up to this point over several months and from this point on I hope to run a more regular game.

In the meantime, I've started up an in character e-mail thread where between sessions the characters can interact with each other and NPC's so that we can get the feeling of progressing the game outside of the session and it allows us to keep things fresh in our mind. 

Also, my wife played in the first couple of sessions (goliath sorcerer) and then had to drop out due to being incredibly busy with work so we added an extra player in the middle.

So hopefully at this point we'll have hit our stride, worked out all our technical bugs and keep on pushing the eberron game forward.

I also still need a good title for my campaign. 

*Character Backgrounds*

*Grayos*

_Greetings, to whoever may be reading this. I am Harrag, a goblin lorekeeper for the Daughters of Sora Kell. This is, most likely, the last time I get to perform any sort of cognitive thinking before having my internals feasted upon or my mind splintered into 8 different sparks to give sentience to some aberrant creation of one of the “scientists” working within the capital. What can I say? Speaking against the will of the Daughters is folly, even if it is simply to warn them of some pretty ominous signs, ones that don’t bode well for them. So since they’d rather put me to death, I’ll write this down and hope that it gets to someone who will listen and warn the Daughters appropriately… or let them fall.

I suppose an explanation is needed. Fierna, the archdevil of Phlegethos, rules with her father Belial as counsel. Stygia, the hell below Phlegethos, is ruled by Levistus, an archdevil imprisoned in glacier for rebellion against Asmodeus. I’m sure merely writing their names to parchment furthers my death, but it’s important someone knows. Fierna, in a bout of unholy carnal pleasure, finds a way to Levistus, with whom she is forbidden to contact as Belial schemes to overthrow Levistus. When Belial learns of the unholy spawn that has been brought forth between Fierna and Levistus, he snatches the abomination and performs a blasphemous ritual to destroy it. 

One cannot destroy such a being so easily, even if it’s the Lord of Secrets attempting to do so. Maybe a being of pure goodness could do it. Perhaps a deity of the Sovereign Host. However, Belial only succeeded in pushing the being to a far corner of the multiverse. So far and remote that no individual being, primordial or deity, has taken note. Most likely as they do not dream, merely us mortals. That is how I found out about this creature. You see, a child was born in the capital several years ago, a child with a strange mark. The mother was as boring as anything, a simple human from one of the nomadic tribes who died shortly after birth. The father was, to no one’s surprise, unknown. I was petitioned to research this mark in attempts to see if this was related to the Draconic Prophecies. Maybe the Daughters could use that as leverage, politically. I could have cared less, because studying this mark became fascinating. However, no books, tomes, or texts had anything on it, nothing. I was worried that I could not come up with a meaningful answer to my requestors regarding this plainly important and prophetic mark. That is until my obsessions lead to dreams. 

My dreams took me to the most remote corner of the plane of Dreams, a place where no immortal has traveled, where only one would be banished. The blasphemous spawn visited me there, and my dreams turned to nightmares of the kind never recorded. In these nightmares I was shown things no denizen of Khorvaire should ever see, things that would break one’s mind. I’m not entirely sure I’m all sane as I write this. And so, amongst all these horrid, vivid, vibrant scenes of macabre and madness, I am shown the answer.

The mark of the child is where this devil of madness reached through the dreams of the mother and touched him. This child has been physically touched and warped by the influence of a devil mired in nightmares. I have no illusions that this child could spell devastation for the Daughters of Sora Kell, or domination, or any number of things. Such is the unpredictable nature of a nightmare incarnate. _

*Mathas*

_The low din of thunder rolls in the recesses of my mind…. Sounds of battle rage on in memory…. Yet, the only thing I can truly feel is the divine hand of Dol Arrah on my heart, sheltering me, as he has for lifetimes upon lifetimes._
Warmth.

Warmth is always the first sensation. It was no different this time as I awoke in the holy shrine of my creator, Dol Arrah, in a place unknown to me. Naked and alone, images flash in my mind of my previous life.

_The Last War… Warforged armies... The Mournland… The hosts of undead… No escape… A brilliant flash of light._

So, I must have died, again.

Listening about me, there is only the sound of wind in the trees outside, so I focus my thoughts inward and meditate, giving thanks to Dol Arrah and beseeching the knowledge of what I must do now. 

It was then that I met Ancorite Josef, a decrepit old man, and hermit, in service to The Sovereign Host, who knew me for what I was. He didn't speak to me then, only made himself busy finding clothing and food for me. It was only later that I found he lived here alone, tending this shrine among the trees of the forest near Woodhelm in Breland.

For a time, I made myself useful to Josef. We discussed war, and regaled in tales of honor and selflessness, the battles of The Last War, and my part as a soldier, and his as a commander. He showed me his armor and weapon, scarred with years of use, now covered in dust.
I spent nearly two years with Josef there caring for the shrine, learning and teaching as I could. It was during my daily devotion that my eyes and mind were opened to my purpose.

_Vol… Abominations… Evil… Death…._

I struggle with the information in my head, but slowly the fight shifts, and vengeance takes its place. The face of a creature, surely dead, fills my vision, white points of light peer into my very soul. I call to Dol Arrah for strength, and I know that this thing cannot touch me. I hear a whisper of a name, but cannot remember it.

Opening my eyes, I stand quickly. Josef asks what I'll need and I turn to his sword, a monstrous thing of steel. He nods, and retrieves it for me. After a moment of prayer, I leave the shrine, with the clothes on my back, sword, and a week of supplies; the whisper in my head becoming louder and more persistent as my heart beat thrums along side it.

_Erandis d'Vol_

_*Thump Thump* 

Erandis d'Vol 

*Thump Thump* 

Erandis d'Vol 

*THUMP THUMP*_

*Tor*

Tor's background has been filled with the blood of his family and friends. It is because of that he is the Shifter his is today. 

Years ago his clans had occupied a coastal portion of Xen'drik in hopes to trade with the Drow and live their lives on a land as savage as them. The Drow had "played" along as they were more curious about Shifters on their lands and sought to know more …but when the curiosity wore off they eradicated the entire settlement. Unbeknownst to them was young Tor, not more than 8 summers, was fishing at sea. 

Tor saw the smoke from the sea and began to return. With his keen eyes he saw the devastation of the settlement and waited till dark to return. When he returned everything was in ruin. There were so many dead if was hard to tell if any could have survived. In his anger he gave into his primal rage when he noticed two Drow scavenging amongst the dead. His attack was so furious that the Drow were unable to defend themselves against the savage Shifter child. Before he could morn the dead he noticed that more Drow were returning and took his fishing boat out to sea to escape. 

It is difficult for even a skilled fisherman to survive in the oceans as he floated for many days until he was fortunately pick up by a trading vessel. It was there a female Half-Orc named Bre'al began to take care of him as her own. She returned with him to her homeland of the Shadow Marches. For many summers until he was 19, she would teach him to embrace his primal side, swordsmanship and to focus his rage. 

She never talked about her past and when he would ask it brought great sadness to her face. He would wonder what could cause such emotion. She once told him that her dealings in acquisitions has lead to strained relationships in the very cutthroat business. 

One night he returned to find her brutally murdered and an unknown symbol scribed in her blood on the wall. But the fact that another that he loved has died was more than he could deal with. He buried her and this time he could at least morn over her body. He left the Shadow Marches with only his battleaxe, his shield, a parchment with an unknown symbol on it …and his rage. 

*Valwryn*

Vralwyn of the Valenar -- Elven Ranger


The humans of Breland call us mad. I say it is the humans who are mad. It is they after all who call it the Last War. Can there ever be a last war? Surely it is madness to think so. Surely it is madness to claim that the five nations can ever live in harmony again. They have tasted glory. They have tasted power, and though they talk of peace, they scheme and plot to claim all of Khorvaire for themselves. In the marketplace, they greet each other with false smiles and talk of trade, and yet on the roads they hire us to raid and plunder each other. Surely it is madness to pretend this is peace?


We Valenar know better. There will come a time when all races are once again tested in battle. We shall be ready. We shall not be found wanting. On that day, I know the name of Vralwyn shall be known to all Valenar. I shall take my place among the honored ancestors and prove myself worthy of remembrance. Until then, I wait and find what glory I can among the deceitful diplomats who call themselves a nation.


There is always work to do in this supposed time of peace. There is always someone who needs to be found and his bounty collected. There are secrets to be scouted out and adventures to be had. I am glad for their gold, but more glad of the glory. I shall not rest until every bard knows my tale and my name is spoken in honor.  You laugh and think me mad. Perhaps it is so, but all truth was once madness. My mad truth merely awaits to be born.

*Graelen*

_Graelen, Human Warlord
He had thought his life was over for sure. The Elf stood above him as he lay on his back, his sword a mere inches from his outstretched grasp. The sound of the battle, that seemed so deafening moments earlier, had all but disappeared as he tried to focus his eyes through the thick, acrid smoke of the burning building. He finally found the face of his soon to be maker. The elf had a calm look to him, his eyes cold and focused. The blood dripped onto Graelen's chest from the brilliantly shiny steel blade of the long sword, now held high over the Elf's head. As the sword arched down towards him he thought it comical that life did indeed flash before your eyes moments before you meet your end. 
He remembered his hometown of Moonwatch, in Breland. And of the day he found out he was an orphan, raised by his Aunt and Uncle as one of their own. He still knew nothing of his heritage as his family refused to speak of it. 
He recalled his first kiss. A schoolmate by the name of Glorinda. Oh how his friends had teased him! 
He remembered the day he joined " Krendall's Hundred ", the mercenary band named after it's leader. How naive he was and so full exitemnt! 
He thought back to his first kill. A stinking Kobold he had impaled with his war pick. He had finally felt like one of his fellow brothers in arms! 
He couldn't forget his first women. A whore named Mirabelle at an establishment called the " Divine Ambrosia ". _

Now, as he sat quietly on the train, remembering, he realized how lucky he was to be alive. As the Elven blade began it's descent, a crossbow bolt ripped open half of the Elf's throat and the blade had fallen harmlessly to the side, dead before he hit the ground. Graelen managed to collect himself and resume the fight. 
Although they were victorious that day, losses were heavy. Over half of their number had perished, all good men. Graelen couldn't help but think that he should have been among them. 

So here he was, a week later, on a train bound for Wroat. He had been one of five men charged with finding new recruits to replenish the band. He had found a few good prospects in Sharn and hoped his trip to Wroat would be as fortuitous...


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## Delgar (Feb 2, 2010)

*Eberron Teaser*

Eberron Teaser:

<Screen fades to black>

<A deep booming voice echoes>

Eberron

<Images begin to slowly appear on the screen>

Peasants work the fields in a small farming community.

A grand ballroom filled with well dressed nobles dancing to a light tune.

A dozen knights kneel before a young girl in a grand hall

<The voice booms again>

Your typical D&D campaign

The peasants begin fleeing towards the town as a horde of goblins swoops in on the village.

One of the nobles begins to spasm and collapse on the dance floor.

The knights raise their swords to the girl queen.

<The voice booms again>

I think not

<The images start appearing faster>

Huge towering castles reach into the sky like skyscrapers on the top of a cliff.

A troop of Halflings rides across the plains on the back of dinosaurs.

An elf leaving the elven court bows to a skeletal guard.

<The voice booms again>

This isn't your fathers D&D

<The images begin appearing even faster>
A train racing along a track, leaving a trail of lightning in it's wake, with several shadowy figures jumping from the top of one car to another

A huge galleon floating in the air is being attacked by two other smaller airborn ships. A figure can be seen swinging from the rigging of one ship to the other.

An army of humans and skeletons charges another army of humans and human like constructs. Off in the distance a mushroom cloud can be seen and the blast wave knocks them all prone.

<Screen fades to black>

<Pause>

<A few images flicker on the screen>

The face of a human man

The face of an elven female

The face of a feral Halfling

The face of a warforged

The face of a dour dwarf

The face of a screaming gnome as he falls to his death, just as he is about to hit the ground

<Screen fades to black>

<The voice booms>

How will you leave your mark


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## Delgar (Feb 2, 2010)

*Prologue*

*Prologue:*

_A black gloved hand rests on a worn oaken table, next to a swirling crystal ball. Scattered around the table are many bits of worn parchment covered in ancient runes. The silence is broken by a knocking sound off in the distance._

"Come in," a feminine voice beckons.

_The sound of a door creaking can be heard as well as the sound of footsteps of hard soled shoes on a wooden floor. The crystal ball still swirls with random colors. The black gloved hand picks up a piece of parchment than disappears from view._
"M'lady, you summoned me?" a male voice grovels.

"Yes," The female voice hisses, "I have a task for you."

"What is that you are reading M'lady?" the male voice grovels again.

"Ah these. These are just snippets of the draconic prophecy."

"I didn't realize you studied the prophecy M'lady"

"Many a dragon has spent entire lifetimes trying to unravel the mystery of the prophecy. I am not foolish enough to believe that I can unlock its secrets, but I have been trying to piece together pieces of the prophecy that involve me."

"That is most excellent M'lady. So, about the task for me?"

"Ah, yes. He has returned, and this time his heart is filled with vengeance."

"M'lady, of whom do you speak?"

_The black gloved hand places the piece of parchment back on the table and then touches the side of the crystal globe. The feminine voice mumbles a few incomprehensible words and an image begins to flicker to life inside the globe._ 

_A lightning rail races along the tracks, a small point of light in the dark rainy night._

"I do not know his name this time," says the feminine voice "but he has been reborn."

_The swirling picture in the globe zooms towards the train and reveals the inside of the train car with 5 occupants'._

"I destroyed him last time, and I will destroy him again." 

_The picture in the globe is of what appears to be a human male with long flowing hair, but he seems to have an unearthly beauty and stillness about him._
"I shall dispatch some assassins right away M'lady. He shall not live out the month."

"No!" the feminine voice shouts, "If I have him killed now, he'll just return again. No, this time when I destroy him it will be permanent. What I want you to do is find out everything you can about him and the other four people riding in that train car with him."

_The picture of rugged shifter, dressed in tribal hides flashes on the globe, then the picture of a contemplative human, dressed in chain and lost in thought, followed by the picture of what almost appears to be a large moving statue, playing with some mud and sticks and finally followed by a darkly dressed individual that seems to be trying to hide his identity._
"As you wish M'lady. But it doesn't even look like they know one another."

"They may not know it yet, but their fate and mine is intertwined."

"How very unlucky for them M'lady."

"Yes very unlucky," the women chuckles

_The door to the rail car opens, the five strangers stare up and watch as an old man shambles in and sits down in the center of the car. The image swirls into a gray mist._

"You have your mission, now begone."

"Yes, M'lady." 

_A door creaks open and then shuts._


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## Delgar (Feb 2, 2010)

*The Begining*

*The Beginning*_

Rain trickles down the window of the lightning rail car. A flash of lightning off in the distance briefly brightens up the nearly empty train car. A few moments later the loud boom of thunder can be heard. Sharn is but a tiny spec off in the distance now, as the lightning rail zooms on its way to Wroat.

The door to the car opens and 5 wet figures enter the car. First is a smiling human male, dressed in leather, with a fancy sheathed rapier. Next another male, taller than the first, dressed in chainmail with a greenish hue, with a large sword sheathed across his back. Behind him, is a plated warforged carrying a large steel shield, with a longsword sheathed at his waist. Behind him an older man dressed in tight brown robes, using a staff to walk. Finally, towering over the others is a massive half-orc, with an enormous wicked looking battle axe strapped to his back.

The five figures shake off the water and walk slowly down the aisle to the center of the car. Another flash of lightning goes off, brightening up the car for but a moment. As the thunder claps in the distance, the smiling male stops and sits down beside an elderly gentleman in the center of the train. The rest basically circle around the seat where the elderly man is sitting. The elderly man looks up at the new arrivals.

Another flash of lightning goes off, this time lightning up the elderly mans face, which clearly shows signs of fear. The thunder crashes again, this time sooner and louder than before.

"Well Dr. Lazarus, it seems you were in such a hurry to get out of Sharn, that you forgot to say goodbye to our mistress," Says the smiling man calmly.

The old man swallows very hard and stutters, "I..I.."

"You see, she might take it as a personal insult, you leaving and all so suddenly and taking her necklace with you."

"I…I…don't know what your talking about," the old man stammers.

"Don't be a fool old man, no more games." The smiling man draws a dagger and holds it to the elderly mans throat. "I'm leaving this rail with the necklace, it's your choice whether I take your head with it."

The old man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a golden necklace, his hand visibly shaking. 

Another flash of lightning goes off.

Roll Initiative._


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## Delgar (Feb 2, 2010)

Here is just a quick brief overview of what happened to the character's during level 1.

1) you rescued an old man on the lightning rail, who was being mugged.  
They wanted a necklace he had stolen.  The half-orc managed to get away. Turns out he is a historian  with a fascination for the dhakanni empire. Particullarily with a sect that had allied themselves with the daelkyr. He was working with a mysterious women who was funding his research and archeological digs.  As time went on, he discovered that her intentions were not entirely academic. In an attempt to make ammends for his bad decisions he tried to flee with the necklace running into you.

2) he is not sure what the necklace does, but suspects that it might be part of something greater, and convinced you to help find out more information. He sent you to Brekville to find the location of a Dhakaani temple, and bring back any secrets or items that may help unravel the mystery. You can contact him via a Sivis message station as he is in hiding in Wroat.

3) in Breckville, you discovered that the town was being harassed by kobolds. Apparently disrupting the flow of trade into and out of the city. Attempts by the town guard to stop this had met with failure. An old magewright by the name of Caleb, requested your help in recovering some dragonshards that had been stolen.

4) you sniffed out the kobold lair, and defeated the beasts and tamed a wild bear an returned some of the towns goods including the bag of dragonshards. Caleb promised to create you something as a reward.

5) back in town, someone hired some thugs to try and scare you out of town. After some investigation your sure it was a merchant by the name of Darius, who had just fled town recently. Your also sure he had something to do with the kobolds. You discovered that he was an agent of the Emerald Claw. But where did he go? What was he up too?


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## Delgar (Feb 2, 2010)

*Cut Scene 1*

*Cut Scene 1*

_A large half-orc kneels and places a vicious looking bloodied axe on the stone floor in front of him, and he bows his head._

"Where is the necklace?" A feminine voice asks. "Do not tell me five of you were unable to recover the necklace from that feeble old fool?"

_The half-orc raises his head slightly._

"Umm," the half-orc pauses for a moment, "Uhh."

"Spit it out fool, I don't have all day to listen to your ramblings," the feminine voice yells out.

_The half-orc cringes, bows his head deeper and swallows._

"Milady," the half-orc pauses again, "we were able to recover the necklace, but some of the passengers on the train intervened."

_The room is blanket in silence for a few moments. A milky white feminine hand reaches up and touches the half-orc's cheek. The half-orc cringes at the touch._

"What, am I paying you for if you can't take a necklace from an old man and a few wanna be heroes?" the feminine voice asks.

_The females hand moves under the chin of the half-orc and tilts his head upwards. The hand then wraps around the half-orc's throat and begins to strangle him._

"Mistress," the half-orc frantically gasps, "they were not…"

_The half-orc coughs and reaches up and grabs at the hand holding his neck trying to pry the fingers away. His eyes begin to bulge in their sockets and his face begins to turn purple. The women releases her grip. The half-orc keels over, rests his hands on the floor and coughs violently._

"Mistress," the half-orc coughs, "they were not your average lightning rail passengers." 

_The half-orc continues to cough and rub his neck with his hands._

"They were seasoned warriors, perhaps not the Tiefling, but the others had definitely seen their fare share of battles," the half-orc wheezes. "I barely managed to escape myself"

_The half-orc bows his head again. The females hand pats him on the cheek. The half-orc cringes again._

"I need the necklace Throt, not your excuses," the female voice states.

_The hand grasps the half-orcs throat again._

"I don't have the manpower to give you for this, you'll have to hire some mercenaries to help you out," the female says.

_The hand releases it's grip on the half-orc's throat and a pouch jingles as it lands at the half-orcs knees._

"You will not return without the necklace Throt," the female voice says sternly. "Am I understood?"

_The half-orc reluctantly nods._

"Now get out of my sight, your incompetence sickens me," the female balks.

_The half-orc rises from his knees, scoops up his axe and shuffles out of view._


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## Delgar (Feb 2, 2010)

*Cut Scene 2*

*Cut Scene 2*

_A black crystal sits atop a small metallic eldritch device on an oaken table. Suddenly the crystal begins to glow and hum, and veins of red are now visible snaking the length of the crystal. A male voice from nearby speaks._

"Commander, the kobolds have been eliminated."

_The crystal begins glow brighter and vibrate in sync with the voice emanating from it._

"What? You told me the town did not have the resources, to deal with our distraction?"

_The crystal returns back to a light glow and slow hum._

"Sir, it seems a small group of treasure hunters are looking for some old ruins in the area. They managed to eliminate our kobold allies in the process. I was unable to get off a warning in time."

_The crystal again glows brighter and vibrates in sync with the other voice._

"We cannot have a bunch of do-gooders snooping around, and interfering with our plans. I trust that you will be able to take care of this issue before it becomes a problem?"

_The crystal dims again._

"I will take care of it immediately commander, I will not fail you."

_The crystal flares up again_.

"Just remember, if you do fail, it's not me that you have to answer to."

_The other voice answers in a much more somber tone._

"Understood sir, it will be taken care of."

_The crystal stops humming and begins to slowly dim, until all that remains is a black crystal sitting atop a small metallic eldritch device._


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## Delgar (Feb 2, 2010)

*Level 2 Overview*

1) you discovered the possible whereabouts of the temple. A trapper reported that strange creatures had set up camp outside of town near a place animals won't venture. Once there you discovered a group of dolgrim and dolgaunts working for a gauth had just broken the seal on the temple.

2) inside the temple you fought hoards of undead,  and necrotic oozes all while trying to keep your sanity. A mural at the entrance depicted a large group of beholders, mind flayers, and other strange creatures bowing down before a very human looking being perched upon stone thrown wearing strange armor. The goblin mentioned freeing someone by the name of "Belashyrra" and that he was amassing an army for him.

3) upon defeating the goblin and closing the portal, the goblins robe made of sinew and flesh attached itself to Tor. You also discovered a large number of books, all written I'm ancient goblin or perhaps another language. Some have pictures, depicting strange experiments and dissections, and some appear to be like some sort of journal entries.


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## Delgar (Feb 2, 2010)

*Cut Scene 3*

*Cut Scene 3*

_The only sound that can be heard in the darkness is that of the constant clamor of metal scrapping on stone and the occasional grunt._

"Are you sure this is where we want to go Yerra?" says a gruff male voice, barely audible above the ringing

"This is where the circlet led us to, this is where we want to be," a stern feminine voice answers.

_The clanging continues, after one loud stroke, a beam of light pokes through the darkness illuminating the face of a red female hobgoblin wearing a circlet made out of mithril and gold._

"We're almost there men," the female voice yells, "For the honor of Kech Volaar!"

_Many cheers and grunts erupt as the clamor of the digging increases in intensity until finally the rough-hewn walls of the tunnel give way to a paved floor ahead. Dim white light washes the passage in a pale glow; the light is brighter in the worked chamber farther on. One hobgoblin dressed in chain wearing the circlet leads another hobgoblin and a half a dozen goblins into the chamber._

_White motes of light hover in the corner alcoves of this worked chamber, which appears to be the entry to an old tomb. In its center is a pile of blackened skulls, held in place by a low, rune scribed iron barrier. A tattered red banner hangs from a shining steel shaft that rises from the west side of the barrier. On the western wall, the doors of the tomb's original entrance have given way to encroaching earth – part of a dark iron door lies near a pile of rock, and another part is half-buried in that pile. Pillars hold up the high, vaulted ceiling. Alcoves line the eastern wall and the northern part of the western wall, each holding a scattering of old bones. A stair ascends in the center of the far wall to closed iron double doors. All the walls bear carvings of geometric patterns, and scenes of goblins at war, work and play. A constant faint grinding sound of stone on stone can be heard off in the distance_
_The female hobgoblin moves the rune scribed iron barrier and bends down on one knee and examines it closely, while the rest of the goblins spread out searching the chamber. The other hobgoblin moves to examine the large pile of ruble._

"This is it, Ashurta's tomb, we are very close now," exclaims Yerra

"It seems that this was the original entrance to the tomb," the other hobgoblin say's pointing to the pile of rubble. 

"There is a small tunnel broken in the wall over here near the iron door," says one of the goblins.

"I have another small tunnel over here," says another goblin

"There is also another tunnel here in the floor," exclaims another goblin, "what do you think made these small tunnels?"

_A faint chittering can be heard._

"Do you hear that?" a goblin asks.

"Yah, what do you think it is?" another goblin responds.

"I dunno, but I think I have some movement down one of these tunnels" one of the goblin responds.

_There is a quick flash of movement by the goblin standing by the tunnel in the floor, the goblin screams and disappears as blood sprays up from the hole. Then everything goes black. _
"What in the Soverign Host was that?" asks the male hobgoblin.

_The chittering and scrapping gets louder and louder. Another goblin screams._
"Fall back, fall back!" screams Yerra, "There are too many of them!"

_The gnashing, chittering and scrapping begins to thunder along with the screams and gurgles of goblins.

And then silence_


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## Delgar (Feb 3, 2010)

*Lumber Mill*

So the characters recieved a message marked and sealed with the House Tharashk mark, asking them to meet a Sergeant Dorn at the old lumber mill outside of town about some possible future employment. The characters were wary and expected some sort of trap but did not want to disappoint there would be ambushers.

At the lumber mill, sergeant Dorn called them thieves and requested they return the necklace to it's rightful owner a member of house Phiarlan. He produced a scroll, signed and sealed the house Phiarlan mark. The scroll was signed A. d'Phiarlan.

When the half-orc, who had eluded them on the lightning rail, stepped out of hiding, the battle was on. The battle was fast and furious, as opponents swung on rusty chains and attempted to shove opponents into the still working blades.

After defeating there ambushers, the party questioned the surviving seargent and tried to get some information. It became clear he was just a hired thug. He offered up money for his life, but the characters decided that it would be easier just to put the lot of them through the saws then to have to worry about someone chasing them down.

After the ambush at the lumber mill it was back to Wroat to give Dr. Lazurus the journals and manuscripts in hopes that he would be able to understand their contents and to plan there next course of action.


----------



## Delgar (Feb 3, 2010)

*Our First E-mail Role-playing session*

_Okay the point of this thread is so that you can communicate in character to each other. Any replies to this thread must be in character. This will allow you to interact with each other in character on your travel to Sharn, I'll start the scene with Dr.  Lazarus._


*Dr. Lazarus:* Well I wish I could have seen the temple with my own eyes. Ah how amazing that would have been. It will take me a while to go through all these manuscripts and I'll need some help translating.  There is an old friend in Sharn that perhaps you could convince to come here and help us out. His name is Olakki, he's a hobgoblin priest of the sovereign host, and you’ll find him in lower Sharn in the Lower Dura. Also because I left sharn in a hurry I had a few notes and an ancient map stashed away on the morgrave campus. While you’re in Sharn if you could retrieve those for me it would go a long way to piecing together this puzzle.

_Insight- Dr. Lazarus is very interested in every last detail you have to tell him about the temple. His eyes seem to wander and glaze over when you talk about anything else._

*Grayos:* The temple itself was not much to gawk at. Unless you don't mind doing you're gawking from the digestive juices of foulspawn oozes. One could hardly step anywhere without stepping into one of those fetid creatures... Or having one fly at one's face. 

I can't say I speak for the rest of... The party, but for the most part the temple seemed unremarkable beyond any other crumbling structure, save for two things. On the one, the very NON-crumbling, very FUNCTIONAL portal to another realm. On the second, a mural before we entered, showing a host of powerful aberrations showing reverence to what appeared to be a human. It was rather hard to discern the creature as it was in a sitting position upon a stone throne as well as the peculiar armor it wore. Have you heard the name "Bell-uh-shee-ra" before? Could it be related to this "Duke of Aberrations"

And what, pray tell, would these notes and ancient map pertain to?

So far, the only record I've of gold was about 510 gold (hard to recall without looking) from something to do with the kobold layer, as well as 75 gold worth of residuum. Other than the magic items, we don't have much in the way of cash beyond what everyone started with. 

I still don't see the point in selling the shield, it won't get us much, and it's not like there's a better alternative.

*Dr. Lazarus:* it sounds very exciting. Like history coming alive. I wonder how the creature managed to survive the millennia he was trapped in there. I'm sure I would go mad!

In regards to the portal, how large was it? Is it destroyed?

Oh that mural must have been a sight to see. It sounds very much like it was depicting one of the Daelkyr overlords.

Wait did you say Belashyrra????

<Dr. Lazarus stares at Tor intently>

<Tor returns his stare with a glare of his own>

*Mathas:* He did.  Do you know anything about the tentacled thing that spoke in my mind on the other side of the portal?  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get the voice out of my head.  It offered to help me on my quest.

*Dr. Lazarus:* If it truly was a portal to Xoriat, very little is known what lies in that realm. Strange and powerful lurk in that realm. What of the others did they hear voices or were you singled out?

*Mathas:* I believe I am the only one, though I did catch Tor whispering to his clothing....I think.

*Dr. Lazarus:* oh the notes and map are pertaining to the research I was doing. The map itself will help identify other possible locations of dhakanni temples. She has much of that information, but we may now have the key to put it all together thanks to your heroic efforts.

*Grayos:*  I can't imagine that its sanity is entirely intact. As far as the portal to the aforementioned creature, it was large enough to fit a horse through. I cannot speak to the functionality of it. It was not physically destroyed that I recall, merely reducing in size and power as I attempted to channel energy into it to close it. I can only imagine it must have closed as when I came to, the phasing, tentacled creatures were no longer trickling in.
If that is indeed how one properly pronounces it, then yes, apparently I did. Is that a significant name in your circles? 
The key? How so?

*Dr. Lazarus:* It seems strange that the portal was active, if it was active during the millennia he was stranded in there then why did he not use it to break out of his prison?

Ahh Belashyrra is a name I know well. It is thought that 6 immortal Daelkyr still remain imprisoned in the dark corridors of Kyber it is said that their influence still reaches up into the light of eberron.  
It is said that each of them is immortal, each schemes endlessly, and each has nigh godlike powers.

Perhaps the most infamous of them, not necessarily the greatest, is Belashyrra, the lord of eyes. It is said that he touches the dreams of cultist who pray his name and sends commands to illithids, aboleths, foulspawn and of course his personal favorite creation, beholders.

Of the Daelkyr Belashyrra was considered the artist and it was his plan to use eberron and its people as his canvas. That when he was done eberron would be a testament to his talents and beautiful to his eyes alone and those eyes would be everywhere so he could look upon his work and smile.

That explains Tor's robe, even right now he could be watching us. It is said that he would gift "The Coat of Eyes" to his most devoted followers so that he could observe events around the world as they come to pass.
Grayos:  Nine Hells, really? This Belashyrra sounds as though he's a true connoisseur of things macabre. Maybe we should have Tor wear a mantle over his coat, could that function as a serf's way to cover up the eyes? Is there a way to remove it?

Who's to say the portal wasn't opened by this goblin that was originally wearing the coat that Tor so graciously models? It took arcane energy to close it, why does it not seem logical that it could be opened in the same fashion? Perhaps this coat of eyes lay dormant until the goblin picked it up, and then became influenced to open the portal?

*Mathas:* So in other words, Doctor, we've now given Belahyrra a window into exactly where we are and what we are doing at all times.  I would think we'd need to remove that coat from Tor in order to move inconspicuously; otherwise we are probably in for a rude awakening the moment we stay in any one place too long.

Do you think there is a tie to the necklace that Graelen is wearing and Belashyrra?  The necklace reminds me somewhat of the creature that spoke to me within the portal.

*Dr. Lazarus:* in a manner of speaking, yes. The gift of a symbiont is not to be taken lightly. I imagine if you anger it too much the results could be very detrimental to Tor and I doubt that he will be able to remove it of his free will.  No to remove the bond of the coat would require some sort of powerful magical ritual. Assuming you want Tor to survive the severing?

Perhaps Belashyrra wishes you to have the coat, perhaps he knows something we don't? Or perhaps the coat was tired of being locked up for a millennia an just wants to breathe?

The necklace is clearly linked to xoriat and perhaps Belashyrra.  Perhaps it was the necklace that caused the portal to reopen? Or perhaps it was your mere presence there? Perhaps the necklace is linked to the creature on the other side of the portal.

So many questions, so little time.

*Mathas: * Too many "perhaps", Doctor.   I suppose we may find more answers out later.  This ancient map and notes you have at the Morgrave Campus in Sharn, will those be any help in answering our questions?   Can you give us directions where the campus is in Sharn, and do you expect that there will be others interested in this map?  In other words, are we walking into a trap?

*Dr. Lazarus:* Yes the map and notes will be a great help along with Olaakki. I highly doubt there will be any resistance, I hid them a while ago on campus in the Shava House in room 214 under the floor boards in the bedroom. If my old benefactor new of the map she would be very interested in it.

Morgrave University is located in the Upper Menthis Plateau district.  You'll have to come up with some way to get onto campus, but I'm sure that won't be a problem for capable folk such as yourself. But I would leave my name out of it as I did not part with Morgrave University on good terms.

Be very careful in Sharn, it can be a dangerous place at the best of times.

*Grayos:*  Things that make one go "hmm". Why would Belashyrra be tied back to Xoriat? If he's incarcerated below Eberron, why xoriat at all? The tentacles began writhing once we neared the temple, which we've determined as associated with Xoriat. The Coat relates to Belashyrra as a form of scrying, or at least that's the rumor. But the two together don't seem to react. It does not appear that the coat sprung to the bearer of the necklace, nor does the necklace appear to dance when close to the coat. Could Belashyrra have a being in Xoriat, a compatriot that would attempt to rescue him from Kyber? Could we be facing two creatures working toward the same end?
As far as Tor, well, I imagine that we want him to survive. I can't speak to the effectiveness of him protecting the less-armored folk in the party, but he does serve his function... Occasionally. Who could we see about removing the coat? 
You say some of these books are in a language that Olakki can translate, what of the others? More importantly, ritual books. Keys to arcane power. Not entirely concerned with journals and the like.

*Dr. Lazarus:* All good questions to which I don't have answers to.   Hopefully these journals and other books will provide us with answers to the questions.

As to the question of Tor and his symboiont, I'm afraid at the moment there fates are intertwined. You may be able to cover the robe up, but to remove it completely will require powerful magic. I have heard of a ritual that removes curses and the like (remove affliction), you may be able to find someone in Sharn that could remove it. But be forewarned, the ritual itself could kill Tor by just trying to sever the bond.

If you have no further questions I will get back to studying these manuscripts. Have a safe journey to Sharn, may your travels be uneventful.

*Tor:*  The symbiotic creature is a coat, I cannot hide it but it will serve its purpose as I serve a purpose for it till it no longer needs me.


----------



## Delgar (Feb 3, 2010)

*2nd Roleplaying session*

*Rail to Sharn*

_After having a good discussion with Dr.  Lazarus, and armed with more questions than answers, and after resupplying and selling your plunder you're on your way to Sharn, the city of towers._

(Here you have the opportunity to discuss in character whatever you want; this will allow you to develop your character further by interacting with your party members. Of course you can always sit in silence on the whole train ride but that's boring. No Npc's to interact with on this part so it's up to you guys. Here's the ball let's see where it goes)

*Grayos:* _Well, talking to him was next to useless. Beyond getting a minute amount of back-story and what "may or may not be" connected, we're really not much better off, in my mind. _

I WILL pat ourselves on the back for the way we handled that House Tharask debacle in the mill. My apologies Tor, you seemed concerned with whether or not diplomacy was the way, but from what I've seen, when mercenaries are the topic, unless you've more money to offer, then we'd be hard-pressed to negotiate with anything other than force. Even still, you seemed pretty edgy to start a fight, was something amiss?
Why is it you perceive they were involved with this death? Was this friend close to you?

*Tor:*  Maybe I didn't make myself clear ...let ...it ...go.
<Tor forms a smile on his face>

Yes, I do agree. <He says to no one>

*Mathas: * *eyes Tor* Are you talking to your symbiont right now?  Maybe you'd find out what it knows, it apparently doesn't miss a thing, within sight anyway.

*Tor:*  "It" knows nothing more than what you already know.

*Mathas:*  I very much doubt that, Tor.  Just make sure you aren't trusting that thing too far.  That coat was manufactured by beings smarter than you and I, for purposes that aren't always benevolent.  When the time comes, don't hesitate to remove it, lest you become its servant.

*Tor: * Do not concern yourself with whom I trust.  I am loyal to this mission and its cause and will...

<Tor pauses>

Indeed.  You need not worry about me Mathas.  If I have something to share, I'll share it.

*Mathas:*  *nods to Grayos*

I've wondered that myself.  Have you had run-ins with mercenaries in the past, Tor?  Don't concern yourself.  The mercenaries were merely an obstacle in the way, and were dealt with as such.  None will prevent me this time....er.. Prevent us from getting answers.

*stares out the window*

I can't shake this feeling that we are walking into a trap, while it seems we have no choice in the matter.  I think we should be in and out of Sharn as quickly as possible, without raising any suspicion.  I also recommend getting the map and notes Dr. Lazarus needs first before making liaison with Olakki.  I have a feeling it won't be as easy as he made it sound.  What if room 214 has a new occupant?  Are we supposed to just barge in and rip up the floor?

*Tor:*  <Tor regards Mathas with a long stare>

*Grayos:*  Well I'm certainly hoping that we can use some strategy with a little more tact. I'm sure a simple ruse of a rat infestation can clear out tenants while we "clean up". Or merely wait and sneak in when we are positive new tenants are no longer there. I'm sure the less attention we draw to ourselves, the better off we'll be.

*Tor: * Please do not consider my reluctance as any disrespect ...toward any of you.  I would rather not tell my tale and my mistrust in House Tharask is my own burden to carry.  I'm only sorry that you all were swept up in my rage.  I promise to let diplomacy takes its course in the future.

<Tor gives a quizzical look to no one in particular>

I will if need be.  <He says to absolutely no one>

As for the trap, I believe your intuition may be right, and we ...I agree with your course of action.

*Grayos: * <raised eyebrow> You will if need be... What? Are... Are you talking to yourself? As a non-sequitor, why bother with worrying about who's burden is who's to bear? As far as I can tell, life and limb have already been risked and apparently we've no trouble rescuing octogenarians from hooligans on lightning rails. Why not at least pay a listening ear to one of our own?

*Tor:*  <Tor smiles at Grayos>
 Indeed, speak if you must.  But leave my past alone.

*Grayos: * Well... That was... That was what I was going for, Warden, was for you to speak about your past.  If you've got issues with House Tharask. My reason for asking is twofold. One is akin to what I said before- we've risked our lives together and apparently are tied to rooting out some Far Realm nonsense, so if one of us has an issue, well, heck, we're helping Dr Lazarus on a whim, why not help out a compatriot. The second is, well, less altruistic. If your issue is going to be the cause of abrasion between this group and anything to do with House Tharask, I'd like to know exactly what I'm being dragged into the middle of so that when the longsword is sliding between my ribs, and I gasp my last breath, I can know WHY precisely that sword has Tharashk written on it.

*Tor:*  <Tor listens ...to not only Grayos>

You seem to forget friend Tiefling, our dealings with the mercenaries is because of our possession of the necklace ...not with my past.  I can control my anger in the future as I have promised, though you sorely test it.  Also, if you meet your death on the business end of a Tharask sword, rest assured that I will find comfort that my past had nothing to with it.


*Mathas:*  I'm not so sure using some sort of ruse is the best idea. The less people we involve ourselves with the better.  As a matter of fact, it might be a better idea to just, well, sequester the individual temporarily if it comes to that.  Either way, it may be a good idea to find out what to expect before entering the campus.  Perhaps a local tavern might be a good start, find out the comings and goings and if there are any special documents required to enter the campus and room 214.

*Tor:*  You again use sound logic.

<Tor pauses and "ponders">

Yes, I also agree.

*Vralwyn <to the group>:* What do you know about this man Lazarus anyhow? I understand coming to the aid of an old man in need, but how exactly did his enemies become our enemies? All this nonsense with happenings in the Far Reaches is beyond me. Have you ever considered that a scholar of Xoriat might have a touch of madness himself?

*Tor: * There is wisdom in your words Vralwyn.

<Tor listens to someone, chuckles and turn to Grayos>

Or is my past at fault there as well "friend" Tiefling?  Enlightened Vralwyn with your thoughts on this.

*Grayos:*  I’m not quite sure I follow what you wish for me to do… You wish for me to enlighten V? He’s been sitting here the whole time, I’m sure he heard what I’ve said. I’m sensing some hostility there, don’t get me wrong, we’re not friends, merely compatriots on the same quests. I was merely extending the olive branch in the manner befitting someone attempting to get to know one’s comrades. Trust me, it will not happen again. 
As to the wisdom of the ranger, while I’m not a proponent for sticking my neck for anyone, the doctor has some keen insight into worlds of power. I could care less about his enemies, but while I gain access to more and more knowledge, I’m on board with helping Lazarus. Believe me, I didn’t survive Droamm by being altruistic. That’s why I’m helping him, I don’t know about the rest of present company. I would wager to say that we all appear to be better off financially since we started helping him, at the very least.

*Vralwyn (Places a hand in Grayo's shoulder): *Just because a rabbit runs with a wolf, doesn't make him part of the pack. (Tries to lead Grayos away from Tor). Don't worry your rabbit head about his past (nods at Tor).  If he needs our help, he knows where we are. Tell me what you know of Lazarus. He certainly didn't have sense enough to avoid crossing house p'harlain.

*Grayos:*  Listen here, Ser Ranger, (shrugs off V's hand) if that is your attitude regarding this adventure and this group, I can easily find other avenues to my own ends. I need not the condescension of you.  As for Dr. Lazarus, you've been here on the train as much as I have, you know precisely what I do.  Honestly, one hiding a past I can abide by, but being patronized I cannot. 

*Vralwyn: (Vralwyn laughs as his hand is shrugged off)* So, the rabbit has teeth after all! Peace friend, peace! (Vralwyn holds up his hands in surrender) I just don't want our friend over there (nods at Tor) taking a bite out of the one person among us who can understand all this bookish stuff. I may have heard all that you've heard, but I freely admit to understanding little of it. Hate me if you must, but please don't go wandering back into the wolf's den.

*Grayos:* Fair enough. There is no sort of enmity involved, toward any parties involved. I am not, however, keen on what could be perceived as an insult to my own character. I survived quite a bit to get this far. I merely find it curious that we rely on each other to not to run during combat, but know nothing about each other beyond names and species. Like, for instances, why a ranger would forsake the comfort of his natural habitat to ride lightning rails and delve into a jungle of towers and passageways like Sharn.

*Tor:*  <Tor's grin is wide>

We are unlikely bunch of heroes.  I think we will succeed in our endeavors ...despite what I hear.

You keep your strong point of view wizard for it my save you and all of us in the end.

The journey is long and I need my rest as do you all.  Save your strength, the worse is yet to come.


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## Delgar (Feb 12, 2010)

*Sharn. Lower Tavik’s Landing. ​*
_Up ahead in the distance the group can see the massive towers looming into view, and floating above them in the clouds is the district of Skyway. Whether this is the first trip to Sharn, or the thousandth, its beauty and architectural magnificence is breathtaking. 
	As the train pulls into terminus station, one can already feel the energy of the city pulling. This is lower Tavik's Landing, the gateway to Sharn. Although the platform itself is presentable enough, it is heavily patrolled. The group makes their way off the platform and into lower Tavik's Landing and can see that the lower section of Sharn has been converted into a towered shanty town filled with refugees. The streets teem with performers, beggars, and street-side vendors. A saying comes to mind regarding Sharn, "whatever can be bought, can be bought in Sharn and whatever can be sold, can be sold in Sharn."
	As the group makes its way through the hustle and bustle of people, a well-dressed human and Kalashtar pass by you. The human bumps into Tor as he passes by. The human nods apologetically and the two carry on their way. As the two of them walk away, one can hear the Kalashtar mumble to the human, "Why do we always get stuck doing the crappy errands?"
	 The human replies, "Hey, would you rather be delivering messages like we started out doing a few years ago?"
	The Kalashtar shakes his head, "Yeah, I guess you’re right. Can I drive the ship this time?"
	"Nobody drives my baby but me." The human replies as he punches the Kalashtar in the arm. The two jump into a small airship and fly up into the belly of Sharn. One can observe that the ship has the look of a Braelish royal ship, but bears none of the Braelish royal markings.
	A vast maze of towers and adventures awaits you. Welcome to Sharn. _

*Lightning Rail Platform.*​
*GRAYOS:* Must be nice. I wonder what it'd take for me to acquire one of those. Pampered civilians... 

How in the name of Aureon are we supposed to find anything in this citadel?

*MATHAS:* Street signs, obviously!  Or perhaps a map?

*TOR:*  One of us must be wise to the streets.  We should find lodging and from there we could fan out to search the city.

*GRAYOS: *Lodging sounds as good a start as any. From there, well, I aim to strike out on my own to the campus to examine the place. I believe myself the best to "hide in plain sight" as it were, unless heavily armored and weapon wielding is the manner befitting patrons there...

_The group notices an information board with a posting regarding the Morgrave University giving the folloing information:_

*OPPORTUNITY KNOCKS AT MORGRAVE UNIVERSITY!*​Morgrave is a large university with its main campus here in Sharn. It boasts large glass towers and its domed building is the centerpiece of the upper Menthis district.
It contains the largest collection of Xen'drik artifacts and relics along with a host of other items from past civilizations.
Very often the faculty hires adventurers to explore the tombs of the past, and make expeditions into the far reaches of Xen'drik, all in the name of higher learning.
But many come to Morgrave to view its exquisite structures as well as its museums, art exhibits and other forms of education.
A note is tacked to the poster in the lower corner:
*HOGWASH!!!​*True academics have no place at Morgrave. It is little more than an institution of grave robbers and hooligans rather than an institution of higher learning.

*VRALWYN:* Perhaps you could be a patron who's hired some acquisition specialists - us - for your next trip out into the ruins.

*GRAYOS:* A sound plan that keeps us together in the event things go awry. Though, we may be putting the airship ahead of the elemental. We don’t even know if the room is guarded, lived in, or how easy it is to access it. I confess that I myself am getting caught up in devious plots to get in when we know nothing of the scenario and physical location.
In that regard, might I suggest we obtain a room at a hospice that faces the campus, if at all possible. We keep a low profile and do as much of our own scouting as possible prior to asking. As Mathas so eloquently put, the less people involved in our own business, the less of a scent we leave for any hounds hunting us. Of course, that is only my suggestion. Mathas seems to have lead more lives than I, and Graelen seems to be a more capable decision maker than a lowly wizard.

_While standing around gawking at the sights and talking amongst themselves, an old man reeking of alcohol, garbage, and urine, stumbles towards the group. His dirty, stained hand outstretched. He gives a toothless smile and smacks his lips._

*OLD MAN: * Spare some coins for a veteran down on his luck?

_He coughs violently for a moment into his hand and wipes it on his stained shirt, leaving a fresh smear of blood._

*GRAYOS:* Sure, I certainly shouldn't be a hypocrite. A piece of gold should tide over your vices for a while. Never let it be said that the Dragon Between never worked in mysterious ways to aid you, old man.

_GRAYOS tosses a gold piece to the OLD MAN

The old man takes the coin and places it between two of the remaining teeth and bites down on it._

*OLD MAN:* Thank you kind sir, may the Host watch over you.

_He then coughs violently, spitting up flecks of blood on Grayos' robe, and then proceeds to wipe it off with his dirty hands. Many others in the area notice the display and begin working their way toward the group with their hands out._

*GRAYOS:* <to the party> I honestly should have known better. Gentlemen, might I suggest we move along?

_GRAYOS uses prestidigitation to create what appears to be a small sack of coin_

*GRAYOS:* Fine, fine, vultures, here's what you may have for mooching off someone ELSE'S initiative. 

_GRAYOS throws the bag into a crowd of people and uses Ghost Sound to simulate coins falling out and bouncing across the street _

*GRAYOS: *Let's be on our way?

*Sharn. Upper Menthis.​*
_As the group winds their way through the streets of Sharn from lower Tavik's Landing to Upper Menthis, they notice not only a change in the weather and scenery but a change in lifestyle and wealth. On the lower levels of Sharn it is dark and dingy, and very hot and humid, but as they make they’re way to the upper levels everything becomes brighter and cleaner and the weather seems much cooler. 
	In addition to boasting residence to the famous Morgrave University and University district, Upper Menthis boasts several upper class residential areas and a section dedicated to fine shopping, lodging, and entertainment. It is here in the Seventh Tower district where lodging is found close to the University, for a large fee. 
	With lodging secured, Sharn awaits._

*VALWRYN:* I would like to scout around the level some to gain some familiarity. Anyone want to explore with me?

*MATHAS:* Another set of eyes wouldn't hurt.  I will join you.

*TOR: * I'll ...go find someplace to get some sleep ...I didn't get much on the ride here.  I'll head over to the University in a few hours. Leave me a note as to where you'll be if I don't catch up to you.

<TOR pauses for a moment>

No ...they do not need us to be around, there are other things to see, but it...

<TOR begins to head into the flow of the crowd and stops.  He puts his hands to his head suddenly>

They will do nothing, I must rest and you must let me.

<TOR disappears in the crowd>

*VRALWYN*: Your friend's new passenger is charging a heavy toll. I wonder if anyone here would know what that cloak is and how to remove it? Remind me to ask the Tiefling about it. I expect he knows how to talk to these academic sorts without sounding like a wild-eyed yokel spinning a tarn.

<VRALWYN wanders further into campus>

*GRAYOS:*  Well, it appears I've been left to my own vices... Intriguing. I think I'll tour the facilities.

<GRAYOS takes a different approach, redundancy never hurt. His goal was to, depending on the ease of either attempt, apply for a position as a professor of anthropology for the region of Droamm, relying on his years growing up in the region and unique knowledge of it, and/or wishing to consult one of the professors of the region of Droamm to gain access to the Shava house. If successful, GRAYOS plans to notify MATHAS and VRALWYN... If he can find them>

*Front of Shava House.​*
_MATHAS and VRALWYN wander about campus scoping things out and observing behavior. What is discovered is that the campus is enormous, taking up the entire center of Menthis. It is also discovered that there are a wide variety of people wandering about campus- from heavily armed city watch to students running about with books and scrolls; faculty members chatting in courtyards to tourists taking in the sites of the campus. There are even some rugged folk that can be assumed are treasure hunters looking for work or reporting in.
Blending in on campus proves not to be that difficult at all.
The location of Shava house is obtained as well as the fact that it is a residence for faculty and visiting professors. To enter Shava house requires going through a security checkpoint at the entrance. The occasional student is seen getting through the checkpoint as if they have an appointment with one of the professors._

*VRALWYN:* How about we watch and see if anyone other than students goes in that house. If treasure hunters aren't prone to go in, we'd stand out going in.

<VRALWYN watches the place for about 30 minutes just to see who goes in and comes out. After watching for 30 minutes he sees a variety of people entering and egressing- students, faculty, and a few rough sorts. It looks like as long as you have an appointment you can get past the security station.>

*Morgrave University Administration.​*
<GRAYOS decides to apply for a position. He thinks this would make for a perfect launching place for a litany of adventures and provide good access, should the group need it, to the university. He believes he can function as a liaison, an inside man, etc.
GRAYOS also hopes that, in the event the group needs papers, he can have traveling papers and identification papers that trace back to a legitimate address.
In addition, and it has nothing to do with the current mission, GRAYOS wants to go about transferring his ritual book to a spellshard, as they function exactly the same, but he imagines a spellshard is a lot more durable.
GRAYOS is able to find out where to go to apply for a faculty position. After a brief discussion with one of the administrators, he is given a huge application to fill out, asking all manner of questions, to write an essay on why he qualifies for a faculty position, and to include any references.  
It should take several hours to fill out all the paperwork. Once done someone will contact him within a couple days to a week for an interview if his application was accepted.>

*GRAYOS*: Well, I'd like to interview one of the professors to see if this is the place for me, if at all possible, and tour the facilities and accommodations to see if it's what I'm looking for.

*ADMINISTRATOR:*  Excellent, excellent. If you fill out the paper work I can set you up with a tour and a discussion with a faculty member tomorrow. Remember to keep your application legible.

<GRAYOS returns to the inn to begin the arduous task of filling out the paperwork.> 

_It's been a long day of walking, talking, traveling and observing. The group is very exhausted and retires to their rooms.
After a good night’s sleep the group comes downstairs to partake of breakfast. While enjoying the spread a young male page approaches the table and places a scroll in front of GRAYOS. It is sealed with the seal of Morgrave University.
The scroll states that GRAYOS has been accepted as a member of the faculty and is to report later that day for an orientation, tour and introduction to his new quarters._


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## Delgar (Feb 24, 2010)

*Sharn. Upper Menthis*.

*VALWRYN *- I would like to scout around the level some to gain some familiarity. Anyone want to explore with me?
*MATHAS *- Another set of eyes wouldn't hurt.  I will join you.
*TOR* - I'll ...go find someplace to get some sleep ...I didn't get much on the ride here.  I'll head over to the University in a few hours. Leave me a note as to where you'll be if I don't catch up to you.
<TOR pauses for a moment>
No ...they do not need us to be around, there are other things to see, but it...
<TOR begins to head into the flow of the crowd and stops.  He puts his hands to his head suddenly>
They will do nothing, I must rest and you must let me.
<TOR disappears into the crowd>
*VRALWYN* - Your friend's new passenger is charging a heavy toll. I wonder if anyone here would know what that cloak is and how to remove it? Remind me to ask the Tiefling about it. I expect he knows how to talk to these academic sorts without sounding like a wild-eyed yokel spinning a tarn.
<VRALWYN and MATHAS wander further into campus>
*GRAYOS* - Well, it appears I've been left to my own vices... Intriguing. I think I'll tour the facilities.

<GRAYOS considers interviewing one of the professors to see if this is the place for him. He also decides to try and tour the facilities and accommodations to see if it's what he’s looking for. He is able to find out where to go to apply for a faculty position.>

*Morgrave University Administration.*

<After a brief discussion with one of the administrative personnel, GRAYOS is given a huge pile of papers to fill out, asking a litany of questions. In addition, an essay is required as to why the applicant qualifies for a position and to include any pertinent references.
GRAYOS sees it will take several hours to fill out all the paperwork. Once completed and submitted someone would contact you within a couple days to a week for an interview if the application is accepted.>

*ADMINISTRATOR* -  Excellent, excellent. If you fill out the paperwork I can set you up with a tour and a discussion with a faculty member tomorrow. Remember to keep your application legible.

*GRAYOS* - Fantastic, I'll set to it right now. 

<GRAYOS departs for the inn to begin working on the application.>

*Sogging Folly Inn.*

<While sitting in the inn filling out the paperwork and enjoying a glass of wine, GRAYOS is approached by an attractive FEMALE TIEFLING.>

*FEMALE TIEFLING *- Hail fellow Droaamite. Mind if I join you?

<Even before he can answer she pulls up a seat next to GRAYOS.>

*GRAYOS* - Apparently I don't mind at all. To what do I owe the honor of this company?

<GRAYOS observes how the FEMALE TIEFLING is dressed. He also looks for any house markings. The FEMALE TIEFLING has no visible house markings and is dressed in fine leather. She has two sheathed daggers at her hips. She reaches across the table grabs GRAYOS’ glass of wine, takes a sip and then places it back down in front of him, flashing GRAYOS a devilish smile.>

*FEMALE TIEFLING *- My name is Sorsha, and you are much cuter than I was expecting. Usually the bookish types aren't much to look at. Anyway, let us cut out the small talk and get down to business. It has come to my employer’s attention that you are trying to get a faculty position at Morgrave. It pleases her very much as she would very much like a loyal Droaamite in such a position. As such she would very much like to meet you, Grayos.

<SORSHA flashes another devilish grin.>

*GRAYOS* - Hmm, so your employer wishes to meet me based solely on my desire to become a professor? Well then I imagine we shall HAVE to meet, bladed weapons notwithstanding. Does your employer have a particular meeting in mind? 

*SORSHA* - Sharp as a whip aren't you? I have a sky cab waiting for us outside, ready to take you to her. I wouldn't dilly dally too much, she hates being kept waiting.

<SORSHA gets up from the table and motions you to the exit if the inn.>

*GRAYOS* - There should be a testament to the efficiency of your meetings. Lead the way. I anticipate meeting your benefactor.

*An Undisclosed Location.*

<GRAYOS is lead into a skycab waiting outside the inn. As the cab takes off, SORSHA produces a silk cloth and proceeds to blindfold GRAYOS. Even if you knew Sharn inside and out, the ship made too many dips, rises and turns for one to keep one’s sense of direction. Eventually the ride comes to a stop and SORSHA leads GRAYOS out of the carriage and into a noisy building. Lots of laughter and off-tune singing in a variety of languages can be heard. The smell of beer, vomit and urine are rather obvious.

*GRUFF VOICE *– Gotch yerself a new pet do yah, Sorsha? This one gonna last longer than the others?

<The comment is followed by a guffaw>

<SORSHA says nothing and just keeps pushing GRAYOS forward. As they continue moving the sounds of drinking and laughing fade into the distance. GRAYOS can hear SORSHA speak to someone else in another language. He hears a grunt in return and the sound of a door opening.>

*SORSHA* – Take five steps forward then wait for instructions. Hopefully I’ll be returning you to your inn soon. Good luck.

<GRAYOS moves forward and hears a door close behind him.>

*FEMALE VOICE *- GRAYOS, what a pleasure it is to meet you. Please take off your blindfold and join me in a drink.

<As GRAYOS removes his blindfold, he notices, sitting on a large chair in front of a table full of food and drink, is a 12 foot tall ogre dressed in a fine silk gown and adorned with what appears to be lots of expensive jewelry.>

*GRAYOS* - The pleasure appears to be mine. I'd introduce myself, but I imagine it would be superfluous since I imagine you already know quite a bit about me. I'd ask, but then, it appears a secretive nature is how you've been modestly successful.

<GRAYOS steps forward to take a seat. He pours a drink, but doesn’t drink yet until the ogre does, not out of fear of poison, but respect. He attempts to observe any indication (other than being an ogre) of affiliation with Drul Kantar, the oni mage who rules a region in Droaam.>

So to what do I owe the honor of this request? I have yet to be successful in my application so I don't imagine this is a congratulatory feast.

*FEMALE OGRE *- You have manners a rare trait for someone from the motherland. I suspect that you and I will become good friends. I am known as Cavallah. You may have heard of me, I am rather infamous.

<CAVALLAH raises her large glass of wine to GRAYOS and then takes a sip.>

*CAVALLAH* - As you know, Breland doesn't recognize Droaam as its own nation, and eventually they'll pay for their arrogance and insolence. As a loyal Droaamite I'm sure you understand our plight.

<CAVALLAH takes another sip from the glass>

All Droaamites recognize my authority here in Sharn and do whatever is necessary to make our nation stronger. For it is the will of the sisters. Your desire to become a member of the faculty here in Sharn intrigues me, as not many of our kind possess the intellect to even consider such a position.

<CAVALLAH takes another sip of wine.>

As such, I, and by proxy Droaam, could benefit from having you on the faculty. You see with my help I can make it happen, I have the connections and the wealth and in return you would use your new position to help me and Droaam become stronger. Of course you could refuse my generous offer but then I can guarantee that application would be denied and, well, you know people go missing in Sharn every day…

<CAVALLAH plucks a grape from the table and plops it into her mouth and flashes you a large smile.>

<GRAYOS raises the glass in return>

*GRAYOS* - Hmm, well, it appears I have no choice but to comply. I certainly have every intention to, but not for fear of being another Sharn statistic... Though that thought doesn't exactly appeal to me. 

<GRAYOS takes a sip>

So I submit my application, your connections get it approved. What, then, am I to assist the lady Cavallah with that she does not already have access to?

*CAVALLAH* - I knew you that we would become good friends. Don't concern yourself with the logistics of our deal. Just know that from time to time I will ask you for a favor and you will do it for me, and if you can do that well than we'll become the best of friends and through our friendship Droaam will prosper.

<CAVALLAH raises her glass to you again.>

*CAVALLAH* - Let us toast the new Morgrave professor.

<CAVALLA swigs down the rest of the wine>

*CAVALLAH* - Sorsha will make sure you make it safely back to your be sure to hand in your application as soon as possible.

<The door opens and Sorsha enters. She flashes you an evil grin and then blindfolds you again.>

*SORSHA* - Perhaps next time I blindfold you it will be under more interesting circumstances.

<SORSHA then leads GRAYOS back to the inn.>

*Sogging Folly Inn.*

*GRAYOS *- Well it appears I've quite the path set before me. I'm in your debt, of sorts, Sorsha. The meeting was quite fruitful. Hopefully at some point I can repay you with YOU being blindfolded for a time. In the meanwhile, I imagine I must be filling out my application. I imagine this won't be the last time I see you.

*Next Day.*

<It's been a long day of walking, talking, traveling and observing. The group is very exhausted and retires to their rooms.
After a good night’s sleep the group comes downstairs to partake of breakfast. While enjoying the spread a young male page approaches the table and places a scroll in front of GRAYOS. It is sealed with the seal of Morgrave University.
The scroll states that GRAYOS has been accepted as a member of the faculty and is to report later that day for an orientation, tour and introduction to his new quarters.>


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## Delgar (Mar 4, 2010)

*Mathas' Dream*

_<You're floating in a sea of nothingness, it's dark and cold and feels empty. You feel a large slimy tentacle brush upside your face. A sharp pain races through your head. Now your floating above what looks like another version of yourself and a wretched desiccated female. Vol! The two are locked in battle. Your companions lie dead on the floor. You knock aside spells with your magical blade and Vol dodges out of the way of your vicious blows. She mocks you, she taunts you, you thrust your blade deep in her chest. You smile thinking victory is at hand.  
Vol laughs as she slides down the blade towards you, her hands grasp each side of your head. You scream in pain and drop to your knees.  
"fool!" Vol laughs, "did you really think YOU could destroy me?" you loose your grip on the blade, blood begins pouring from your mouth and eyes. "I beat you before, and I'll destroy you again foolish Deva, but this time your soul is mine. She places a dragonshard to your forhead and you scream in pain, the shard begins to glow and then you slump on the floor. Then your back floating in a sea of nothingness.>_

*Strange Alien Voice:* That is your fate Mathas, if you do not accept my aid. Your companions will die and you will suffer a fate worse than death. I can aid you though Mathas I can grant you the power you will need to defeat Vol. As your patron I can teach you and show you many things. Let me aid you Deva.

_<Off in the distance you can hear a faint feminine voice, but can't make out what it's saying>_

*Mathas*: This cannot be... Not again.  My friends.  *growls*  Never!  This time must be different.  IT WILL BE!  I must have vengeance for those who died before, and the countless times I've failed before.

Show me what you will, Voice, I accept your aid.  Vol must be 
destroyed at all costs.

VENGEANCE WILL BE MINE!

What must I do?


_<still floating in an endless sea you can see a tiny pin prick of light off in the distance. You barely hear the echo of a feminine voice. "Mathas, you don't....look to... Past...the future...not...in stone...don't give....Mathas..." the voice fades into the background.  
The tentacle rests under your chin and lifts up your face.>_

*Strange Alien Voice*: you have made a wise decision Mathas you will not regret your choice. I will show you the true meaning of power and together we will destroy Vol and punish my children in the process.  
You have made the first step my child and as your patron you may call upon my aid in the future. Because I exist on another plane my aid will remain limited but in due time we will change that together.

*Mathas*: What do I call you?

*Strange Alien Voice*: I am known as Chemosh


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## Delgar (Mar 9, 2010)

*Tor Remember's*

_<At the mill, after Tor sees the mark of House Tharask he remembers...>_

"It was a nice funeral you did for her Tor," Tobren said looking at the still burning pyre as the people slowly began to leave the area following the service.

Tobren turned to look at Tor, "You were the son she never had and she always spoke highly of your skills.  Balinor's plan for you is now clear, but you must suppress the need for revenge in your heart."

Tor angrily turns his gaze from the burning pyre to Tobren.  But Tobren retains his ground, "should you face off with House Tharask you'll surely die," Tobren says and looks to the house of his dead friend.  "I identified that symbol as belonging to House Tharask, a symbol of retribution, but there are many factions in any house."

"And I will kill them all," Tor said turning his gaze back to the pyre.

"She taught you better than that," Tobren says. "Should you have this desire to kill every mark of House Tharask you would be making a futile mistake.  She has allies in the House, allies you can use ...should you try."

Tor walks closer to the heat of the pyre.  Its warming touch feels good on his hide.  "You were friends for so long ...are you a member of the house?"
There was a silence.

"Would you kill me?"

Again ...silence.

"No ...I don't know." Overcome with sorrow and rage Tor fell to his knees in the mud and thrust his fist into it.  It felt warm from the warm of the pyre.  He soon let out a howl into the night sky (see token) as the burning embers from the pyre reached up to the stars.

Tobren stood patiently waiting and watching as his godson weep.  His human eyes have seen many die and many take the death of others in their own way.  But for the first time ...he felt something.

Tor slowly stood, "tell me what you know."

"I will."

_<Tor eyes narrow upon seeing the symbol of the House Tharask, and he could feel himself grip his axe tighter>_


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## Delgar (Mar 9, 2010)

*Coat of Eyes*

_<Tor makes inquiries to the coat while looking for a place to rest>_

*Tor:* What is your name coat?  What shall I call you?

How does our journey effect you?



*The coat:* to properly pronounce my name properly you would have to rip out your tongue. For simplicities sake you may call me Kyra.

As to your other question, I am to observe the world around me. For the last 5 millenia I was trapped with that crazy fool.

Together WE will serve Belashyrra and be rewarded greatly, and together WE will be able to punish those you've wronged you.

Fail Belashyrra and I suspect his punishment will be none to kind.


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## Delgar (Mar 9, 2010)

*Mathas' Past Life*

_<Mathas BG 2.  More to follow>_

Again the thunder rumbles in my mind, and this time, the images have distinct clarity...

A special day I'll never forget.

Danica, my love, and my beautiful step-daughters, Halima and Jolene are with me in the skycab, enroute to the Upper City.  She loves the theater, and this will be the first time my daughters will go.  They are excited and barely able to sit in their seats.

Beneath us, the city passes, the smoggy sky becoming clearer as we ascend.  

Moments later, we arrive at a great-domed building, the theater, yes, but the name I have forgotten.  As I pay the skycab driver, my family waits, dressed in their finest, anxious to enter.  I join them, and together we walk toward the entrance.  Large banners proclaim the opening night of "A Night of Rememberance", a fitting title I'd find later that evening.  It was written by a highly acclaimed playwright, I'd been told, but that's of no consequence.   Tonight was to be a special night, we were to rub elbows with the finest houses in all of Sharn, and for that even I was excited.

At the entrance, I presented the tickets for the four of us, and we were told to follow the usher to our seats in the mezzanine.  The low din of theater-goers was just lessening as we took our seats in the gilded upper balcony.  I leaned over to ask the usher when the show would be starting.  He said nothing, only turned and walked away.  I noticed a mark on the back of his neck as he turned the corner, and though I may have not known it then, I know it now as the mark of the Emerald Claw.  I turned, grumbling about his manners, but refused to let it ruin my evening.  I sat with my wife and daughters and waited.

Shortly after, the announcer came to the stage to welcome everyone and to present the play.  As he moved off stage the curtain slowly rose...

...to flames.   The backdrops burned crimson and blue, the paint distorting the color of the flames.  A wall of heat washed over the audience, and immediately panic erupted.  Screams and shouts echoed from the domed ceiling as people ran for the exits, climbing and clawing their way over each other, much as they had done in their posh lives.  I collected my family and moved to the nearest exit, keeping others away as best I could.

But the exits were locked tight and barred from the outside.  There was no escape, I knew.

The smoke became overwhelming, slowly suffocating us all.  My step-children were the first to die.  My wife next followed after.   I succumbed only after they departed.

I fell into blackness, and she greeted me, again, though I had forgotten her.

Her voice... always that tormenting voice, "Again you have failed, Deva.  Again I have pulled your strings and destroyed you.  This cycle will forever continue, until you relinquish your soul to me!"  

Her laughter followed me into darkness...


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## Delgar (Mar 12, 2010)

*Cut Scene 4*

*Cut Scene 4​*
_A large adamantine hand scoops up a handful of sawdust and then lets then it trickle back down to the floor of the darkened lumber mill. A large adamantine warforged stands silently and alone in a darkened abandoned lumber mill. The large hand reaches up and plucks one of the rusty chains from the ceiling as it was plucking a flower and starts wrapping it around its fist. The other hand reaches into a pocket and pulls out a small gem which begins to glow, illuminating the enormous warforged in the process. It appears to be dressed in the finest glamourweave clothing and have a very large sword strapped to its back._

“Milady,” the warforged speaks in a solid deep masculine voice, “Throt has failed you.”

“Did he?” a soft feminine voice emanates from the crystal.

“Yes, he and his Tharashk hirelings were defeated, and the necklace thieves sent them all through the saws,” the deep male voice responds.

_A soft laughter echoes from the crystal._

“It seems I may have underestimated them my dear friend,” The feminine voice ponders “they do show some potential after all.”

_The warforged clenches his chain wrapped fist tightly, and holds the crystal up to his metallic face._

“Do you wish for me to take care of them for you milady?” The warforged asks.

“No my friend, not now, I didn’t get to where I am by doing the heavy lifting.” The femine voice responds. “Inform House Tharashk that there men were murdered, and be sure to let them know by who, and then I’m going to need you back here to babysit the others. I have another task for the three of you.”

“As you wish milady, as you wish,” the warforged responds.

_The hulking metallic man walks heavily out of the lumber mill, leaving large footprints in the saw dusty floor._

***

_All that can be seen is a beautiful marble chessboard, with pieces that look to be carved and individually painted. The ones prominently on display are five pawns lined up on one side of the chess board. One is a human dressed in chain wearing a necklace that looks like the sun; one is a Deva wielding a large blade; one is a shifter dressed in a robe of eyes, one is a tiefling adorned with scholarly ties and the final is a Valenar elf with his bowstring pulled tight. A feminine hand reaches down and picks up the Shifter figure and moves him diagonally forward, knocking over the figure in that space. The figure that lies prone in the shifters new space is that of a half-orc wielding a wicked looking axe._

“It looks like the game has begun my little pawns,” states a feminine voice, followed by soft evil laughter.


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## Delgar (Mar 16, 2010)

*Cut Scene 5*

*Cut Scene 5​*
_Two elves dressed in tribal leathers stand on a stone precipice, one of them looking down upon Morgrave campus with a spy glass. The larger male elf taps the other, smaller female elf on the shoulder and she hands him the spy glass. He proceeds to look through the spy glass down at the campus in the same direction she was looking._

"Why are we here sister?" He asks. "You know I hate this place, the twisted towers of metal and stone are ugly and unnatural. I'd rather be back in Valenar, with the wind blowing through my hair and feel the grass beneath my feet. You know that someone else could have made the delivery. Why are we here?"

The female points down towards the campus. 

<View changes to that of through the spy glass>

_An male elf dressed in leathers walks about the campus with an angelic humanoid. For a brief second the elf looks in the direction of the observers, and then shakes his head and continues talking with the angelic humanoid_.

"He is the one, brother," she says.

"Him?" he asks skeptically, "but he is nothing more than a scrawny pup?"

"He is the one brother," she replies, "a dragon whispered it in mother's ear. It is his destiny."

"How will HE unite the clans and lead Valenar to greatness?" he spits.

<View changes back to that of the two elves>

_The male elf returns the spyglass back to the female, and then he draws the bow from his back. He removes an arrow from his quiver and knocks it. As he pulls the string back, he takes careful aim at something down below_.

"Let us make our own fate sister, damn the prophecy. Let me kill this fool now, and then YOU can be queen," he says.

_The female elf rests her hand on the male elf's aiming arm causing the bow to lower_.

"Don't be a fool brother; even IF the fates don't intervene and your arrow pierces his brain, then we are no further ahead. At least now we are armed with knowledge and we can use that to our advantage. Don't you see brother, every king needs a queen."

_The female elf flashes the male a mischievous smile. The male elf returns the arrow to his quiver and slings the bow back over his shoulder. He pats the female on the shoulder_.

"Forgive me for my rashness sister; mother always knew you were destined for greatness," he says.

_The female elf puts the spyglass up to her eye and continues to scan the campus down below_.

"Of course she knew dear brother; the dragon whispered that in her ear as well," she whispers under her breath.


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## Delgar (Mar 16, 2010)

*Level 3 Continued*

So the group met with Olakki down in the Slag Pit in the depths of Sharn and after a brief discussion managed to convince him to help them out, if they would help him out with a small problem. It seems a clutch of Kruthiks has been hunting the depths and killing members of his flock (church). The characters readily agreed to help out and destroy the clutch of Kruthik.

Following the directions Olakki gave them they wound up travelling through ancient tunnels until they came upon a spot where it appeared fresh tool worked tunnels were made. It seems someone was recently digging down here. Following the new tunnel, they discovered it opened up into a magically lit chamber with a pile of skulls in the center of the room, and signs of a relatively recent scuffle involving at least about a half a dozen humanoids and about a dozen Kruthiks. The scent of vinegar still lingered in the air, but no bodies were present. Off in the distance they could hear the a faint grinding sound.

As the group spread out to examine the chamber, the grinding sound was quickly drowned out by chittering and gnashing as Kruthiks began swarming out of holes in the floor and walls surrounding the characters. The battle was fast and fierce and after killing several Kruthiks, the final one fled back into his small tunnel. The group decided to take a short breather and continue to examine the room rather than trying to chase the creature by squeezing through it's tiny tunnel.

After a more throughough examination of the room, the group discovered that in one corner of the pile of skulls was a gleaming steel pole holding a tattered banner (Battle standard of Might). The iron barrier had a plaque with runes inscribed on it which translated to say:

"Ashurta, slayer of these weaklings, keeper of the blade of the Ashen Crown. Even in death he is stoic and strong. The might of Xoriat has not bested him and hell goes with him."

They also discovered a bloodstained torn leather bag, with it's contents spilled all over the floor. Retriving the contents they found 11 gp, a key and a damaged journal. Further studying of the journal, allowed the group to discover that the Kech Volar (Wordbear's of Darguun, a sect of goblins) came here to Ashurta's tomb seeking the blade. Also, with in the journal was a cryptic piece of leather with picture on it. The journal also mentioned that they had a key to gain entrance.

The characters used the key on the Eastern door to enter Ashurta's tomb.


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