# Seravin's Tales of the Night Below (Two Updates this Week - 07/24/07)



## Seravin

*Title:* Seravin’s Tales of the Night Below
*Author:* Seravin
*Number of Threads:* 1

*Type:* Fantasy
*System:* D&D 3.0e and 3.5e
*Setting: *Empire of Shtara / Homebrew

*Started:* 26 February 2003
*Status:* Ongoing
*Average Installment Length:* Short to Medium
*Average Frequency of Installments:* Bi-weekly

*Available for Download?* No
*Style: *Usually 3rd person narrative prose but can vary

*Overview: *A story version of my players journey through the Night Below Campaign box set. The characters discover that spellcasters of all sorts are being kidnapped. They decide to find out why and stop it.

*Reader Comment:* “Just wanted to leave a quick note to say that I am enjoying this SH. Your updates are written with a direct style and tempo, which I like.” - Capellan

*Special: *
Night Below - The Heroes and Villains
Night Below Conversion

Warning #1: If you’re playing in a Night Below game then be aware that Here Be SPOILERS!  Lots and lots of them.  There may also be some Speaker in Dreams spoilers (if you’re playing in the WOTC Adventure Path series).

Warning #2: I get wordy.  I like to write, however I don't have as much practice as I should.  This should get better over time, but I expect it to be a little rough until then.  Let me know what you like and what you don't.

Welcome to our Night Below game.  We started it around November of 2001 and the players are a little over half way through.  My early campaign logs are a little spotty, but I’m getting better at recording what’s happening.

I hope you enjoy reading these logs and feel free to comment.  My only request is that you please don’t post anything about the module that hasn’t been revealed in these logs, as at least one of my players browses through here.  I’ll be happy to open another thread elsewhere to discuss things my players haven’t done or haven’t quite discovered yet.

Finally,
Thanks to those DM’s who have posted their conversions – they’ve been helpful.

*Game Settings*:
*Ruleset: 3e, errata, and faq as I recall them
*Books: Whatever I own and approve – but the players are keeping mostly to the PHB.
*Style: Loose.  An even mix of role-playing and combat, but it’s not very immersive.
*Special: I wanted to see how tolerant the system would be and decided to keep monsters and treasure mostly as they appear in the module – really only converting them to 3e equivalents.  It’s been surprisingly robust, but the high treasure is going to do odd things to my game world – but strangely it all fits in.
Also, this is a remote game.  Two players are in Michigan while two players are in Alaska with me.  We use NetMeeting and a camera to coordinate.

Things to know:
*The Place:* A shared world that a friend of mine created, mapped, and setup the initial politics.  I've taken a bit of this world and based my campaigns there - Thanks Tamara.
Most of the action takes place around Haranshire, a county that I’ve place in the Duchy of Larence that is in the northern heartlands of the Empire of Shtara, on the world Brae-Tasa.  There’s a lot of history here, I’ll try to include relevant events as necessary

*Important Gods:*
*Latina:*  Patroness and Defender of the Empire.  Holds sway over Good, Law, Nobility, and Protection.  The Imperial Family rules by right of descent from the Lady.
*Sarath:*  The General, Latina’s War Leader.  Defense of the realm falls to him.  He holds sway over Good, Law, and War.

The players starting out:
*Ashimar*, Human, Rogue – Running from the recent past.  The player is the most tactically minded and has lots of 1e and 2e experience.
*Jallarzi*, Half-Elf, Sorceress – Looking for great magic.  This player was new to DnD completely when she started.
*Kestral*, Human, Rogue – A friendly and trustworthy courier for hire.  A long time player who likes to choose a concept and go with it.  She also plays in my RttToEE game.
*Kellron*, Human Paladin of Sarath – time lost on a quest.  Another player in my RttToEE game.  Also a long time player and DM.
*Panther*, Half-Elf, Bard – Looking for a story and a song. Another of my tactically minded friends.  He doesn’t mind hampering his characters for a story effect though.
_(edit: Properly attributed the world.)_


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## Seravin

*The past through today*

*What has gone on:*
_~232 years ago
Near the village of Harrow, just past the Corlean pass, the combined Imperial Forces readied themselves for yet another attack by the barbarian hordes.  The Shtaran Empire had expanded to this point over fifty years ago, yet the native tribes still persisted in trying to eradicate the imperial colonists.  It fell to the Imperial Army to protect this village.  
The odds were grim but the Imperial Mages had a plan.  With the aid of some artifacts in their possession as well as a couple spells, they could teleport a contingent of soldiers behind the enemy after the battle was joined.  The unexpected flanking maneuver would certainly shatter the native forces and render the area safer for many decades.
Sadly, a traitor-mage with dreams of power sabotages the effort.  A key wizard is assassinated as well as two of the commander’s aides – putting the magical burden on a relatively inexperienced journeyman.  The contingent, the entire chapter of the Sundering Sword, is indeed teleported – but they are scattered randomly across three hundred miles of hostile terrain.  Some, like Kellron, are never heard from again.

~170 years ago
Due to various intrigues from a variety of groups, magic is outlawed in the Empire.  The Imperial Mages are disbanded.  However, the mages have their own redoubt, The Library, located in a mountain fastness.  They go into exile there whilst the Empire tries to ignore them.

~62 years ago
Magic is once again legal to use in the Empire and the wizards of the Library setup embassies in the larger cities.

3 months ago
A minor craftsman, by name of Dariv Tjerdon, finds a book describing certain rituals that could grant him power and wealth.  Believing the world owes him a living, and a comfortable one at that, he has no care what some of the rituals entail.  Nor does he question the mysterious circumstances in which he gained the book.  Within a week he has more wealth then he has ever seen before and is introduced and apprenticed to a renegade-wizard.

2 months ago
Kestral, A young woman of a minor family, uncomfortable with her life in the southern Duchy of Relk decides to leave her adoptive parents and get away.  Needing money, she offers to carry missives and small packages to any place north of her home.  Over the next several weeks she eventually makes her way to the Imperial Capital of Kalta.  She never looks back.

At about the same time, Jallarzi, a woman of elfin and human parentage comes into her own in the village of Eferdu.  Her mother’s line traces six wizards of note across eight generations.  Young Jallarzi finds that her family could trace seven – if she can find the training.  Leaving home Jallarzi decides that it is now time to find herself and determine what she wants to do with her life.

After weeks of spending much gold, Dariv draws unwanted attention to himself.  Ashimar, a small-time thief raids Dariv’s apartment stealing a small amount of wealth and a very interesting book that seems to call to him.
The next night, a creature that looks like a demonic child attacks Ashimar.  Ashimar barely survives and flees northward with the book and a hideous scar on his chest.  Sensing the power of the book, Ashamir begins to study, hoping that there will be something in there that will help save his life.

3 weeks ago
Rumor has it that a party of mercenaries, commissioned by the Lordan Trading House, has discovered a lost dwarven ruin apparently inhabited by orcs; the first orc tribe seen south of the mountains in over two hundred years.

2 weeks ago
Kestrel accepts a commission from the Library to ferry a small message to their embassy in the town of Blasingdale.

1 week ago
Kellron, having seen the mages start their casting, steels himself for the rough jolt he’s told to expect.  There’s a flash of light and a ‘presence’.  ‘A darkness has started to form, yet so far in the depths that none may find it yet.’ Says an infinitely patient voice.  ‘Generations from now it will cover the landscape unless someone is willing to take up the sword.  We ask you to leave here, your home, to awaken in the time of your great, great, grandchildren.  Your order here is lost and scattered.  Accepting this task will ensure that there will be some survivor of your chapter to stand firm.  Will you do so?  Your family will be cared for.’

Kellron hesitates only a moment as regret overcomes him.  ‘Give them my love.’ Is all that he asks.  Moments later he is thrown to the ground as harsh reality grabs hold of his senses again.  Looking up at the stars he sees that he’s south of mountains.  North of him he can see the walls of a town or small city, with foothills starting not far from there.  With a prayer and a sigh, he checks his weapon and shield and makes his way to this new place.

That same night, an itinerant minstrel who styles himself ‘Panther’, a bastard-child of human and elfin blood, performs before his first audience on the streets of the city of Blasingdale.  He manages to make a few silver coins and is invited to play at the inn just across the street._


*Day 1*, Late-Spring (May) – Blasingdale, near the South Gate.
It was quiet in the early morning at the Blue Standard Inn while the handful of guests in the common room took breakfast.  There were only four guests in the room, each sitting apart and minding their own business.  None of them were obviously merchants.

	Without a doubt the most striking of them was a flamboyant looking young man, dressed in black leather and a wild mane of brown hair.  A cursory glance of his slightly-too-large gray eyes and his just-too-long ears peeking up through his hair showed that elfin blood was somewhere in his parentage.  Despite his mode of dress, Panther had a devilish look in his eyes and looked more like a boy ready to steal a pie off the window then a man looking to cause trouble.  Next to him was the harp he had used to earn his bread and room the night before.  If he hurried he would be able to set up on the street corner on the main thoroughfare and make a fair amount of coin.

The next most striking amongst the small group was the young woman sitting across the room from Panther.  Her body and face declared to all that she was a young woman in the prime of her life, yet her long hair was the color of snow.  A closer look at her face and her violet eyes hinted at her half-elfin parentage though and quickly explained the odd hair and eye color in one so young.  Despite being a young woman all alone, the serving wench treated Jallarzi with a surprising amount of diffidence.  One of the girls had seen the young woman use magic to clean her room.

Between the two of them, his back to the wall and eye to the door, sat Ashimar, seemingly a dark mirror to Panther’s lively manner.  Sharing a similar build, the young human presented a contrast to the wandering minstrel.  A hunted look guarded his eyes and he kept track of every movement.  Ashimar was plainly someone who had lived on the streets – and was spooked by what he saw.

Finally there was the dark haired gentleman sitting in the corner.  He had been staying at the inn for a week now and while quiet, he was unfailing courteous.  He sported the thick frame of someone use to wearing something far heavier then clothing, and the sword at his side had the worn and nicked look of something well used, like a craftsman’s tools.  Kellron was still astounded at the changes that had occurred, and wondered briefly if the elfin folk felt the same way when they looked back over the years.  Granted, the empire was as strong as ever, and even laid a tentative claim all the way to the Northern Shore.  But magic had been abandoned for almost a full century and only lately permitted within the borders again.

Jallarzi’s sharp ears hear something that sounds suspiciously like a spoken spell coming from the open window nearby. When she turns to look she gets a good look at a dark-haired man with pinched features finishing the final gestures of a spell.
Brimstone fills the air moments later and three large, black rats with burning red eyes materialize in the center of the common room.  Ever wary, Ashimar is already in motion, drawing his rapier to attack the rat closest to him.

Whether from heroism, basic goodness, or curiosity, Kellron, Jallarzi, and Panther all decide to help this unknown stranger.  With their help the fight is short.  Like Ashimar, Panther also wields a rapier; while Kellron shows that he has a more than passing familiarity with the military longsword at hi side.  And Jallarzi impresses them all with bolts of raw magic.

	Introductions are made and Ashimar thanks these people for helping him, letting them know the attack was probably directed at him.  Jallarzi’s description of the man confirms it.  The menacing nature of the rats convinces Kellron that something has to be done.  Tired of running and with potential allies, Ashimar decides to go after this sorcerer.  Jallarzi and Panther also agree to accompany them for their own reasons (power and curiosity respectively).

A short investigation gives them a small lead in finding this mysterious man.  A man of the description they are looking for has been seen entering the South Gate in the morning and leaving by the gate in the evening.  Thinking about it the group decides to head south knowing that there are some abandoned farms down the road a ways.  Sure enough, a few hours travel brings them upon an abandoned farmhouse that seems in reasonable condition.  A quick search reveals the place is housing a transient of some sort.  They decide to lay in wait.

Many hours later the man they are looking for arrives.  Tired, the party rushes him.  The fight is brief and the man is quickly overwhelmed and killed, managing to only summon a cloud of fog.  Kellron realizes that his actions were precipitous and resolves to ask more questions first.  The sorcerer was undoubtedly guilty – but he was laid down without a word in edgewise.


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## Seravin

*The party is gathered and the quest begins*

The twilight hours are giving way to night now and the four allies decide to head back to Blasingdale.  Before they can put action to thoughts however they hear the sound of pounding feet followed by shouts of ‘Get her!’.  Looking carefully through the dim twilight the group sees a small woman (or child) running towards the farmhouse, being pursued by three men.  The woman zips past the startled party and around the farmhouse.  It takes only a moment for the party to decide to intervene.  

	Ashimar and Kellron stop the men and question them briefly.  The men claim the woman stole from them, but Ashimar’s street senses tells him they’re lying.  He calls them on it and short fight ensues.  Kellron is a trained fighter though and Ashimar has fought in a few street fights and the party easily wins.

	With the men subdued or killed, the woman comes back around the corner of the house.  She introduces herself as Kestral, a courier for hire.  The men had waylaid her as she was preparing to camp in the woods, but she had managed to get away.  Introductions are passed around.

	Again they decide to head back to Blasingdale and again their plan is interrupted.  This time by what looked to be a small child who marches with purpose up to the farmhouse.  As it gets closer though they see that this child is made of stone and while it has the form of a man, it looks closer to a demon.  With a haughty voice it demands the body of the sorcerer as ‘spell components’, claiming that it’s master had a deal with the sorcerer.  Not really needing to, Kellron extends his senses and discovers that the stone-demon is irredeemable.

	They defy the stone-demon, eventually pounding it’s rock body to rubble.  It was a hard fight however, and everyone is panting before it’s over.  Deciding not to push their luck the party decides to  spend the night at the farmhouse.

	The next morning comes early and the five newly made companions finally return to Blasingdale with the corpse of the mage.  Taking him to the city guard they discover that there’s a small reward for the capture of one Dariv Tjerdon, the sorcerer they have killed.  There are some questions to answer but the crimes of Dariv and the cooperation of the party sees them quickly on their way with the reward money.

	Next, seeing the cost that follows the book he stole, Ashimar decides to turn it over to the church of Latina.  The priests there are horrified that a book of abyssal knowledge had been loose in the world and are gratified that it was turned over to the church.  They give Ashimar their thanks and their blessings.  Ashimar feels like a weight has been taken off of his soul.

	Kestral, then finishes her courier job by delivering her package to one Master Kiel of the Libray of Blasingdale.  Through chatting he learns of the near robbery on her journey.  Liking her courage and ability, Master Kiel offers her another delivery.  This time a small chest to be sent to Tauster, a wizard who lives in the village of Thurmaster about a weeks distance.  He offers the staggering sum of 180gp plus another 20gp for expenses.  There is a catch though, she needs to take a guard, and the people who helped her seem to be just the type.  Kestral doesn’t really like the idea of splitting the fortune, but even a five way split is many, many times more then she could normally make.  When she approaches the other four they readily agree to help – but first they have to purchase some horses.

	The next two days proceed at a comfortable pace as the five companions make their way to Milbourne.  From there it will be another two or three days to Thurmaster.  Easy money, and who knows what will happen then?


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## Seravin

*DM Notes*

And that's how the little group got together.  It was sort of cliche to start it in an Inn, but at least the mysterious stranger didn't offer them a job.   

By this point I knew kind of where the players wanted to take their characters.
*Ashimar* was going to multi-class to fighter and then go back and forth with rogue.
*Jallarzi* was going to go to wizard right after sorcerer.
*Kellron* was going to stay Paladin for the forseeable future.
*Kestral* was going to be the diplomatic demon from heck.  She put an 18 in intelligence and dedicated herself to learning every language possible as well as always putting something in diplomacy.  She also was going to dedicate her feats to those things that improved her social skills.
*Panther* was going to be a bard who knew a little bit of everything.

For those who are interested:
Kellron came close to an alignment violation when they cut down the sorcerer.  I probably should have pegged him with it, but it was the first session and we were still figuring out what a Paladin of the war god represented.

The little stone-demon was just a small earth elemental given a demonic facelift.

The 'Book of Abyssal Lore' that Ashimar had was the gem of a great idea that will appear later.


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## Seravin

*Welcome to Milbourne*

By horse, Milourne lays almost two days east of the mining town Blasingdale.  The road follows the north bank of the Churnett River through gently rolling countryside filled with copses of oak and elm.  Along the journey there are a handful of farms, but for the most part there is little sign of civilization.  

To the north lie the foothills that lead to the range known as the High Mountains.  The High Mountains are a nearly impassable barrier forcing travelers to use either the Corlean Pass to the east or head west around the range.  The range is rich in silver, copper, and iron; as well as the gems found with those minerals.  To the south lies the interior of the Empire with all of its might and grace.

-------

It was late in the afternoon of the second day of travel, and the five riders were traveling through a wooded area.  As they rounded a bend in the road they caught their first sight of the farmers sitting along the side of the road, obviously resting.  Kestral and her guardians rode up casually without much interest.  The farmers, seeing the riders stood up, stretched, and started walking down the road towards the group.  

The two groups were about fifty feet away from each other when the arrows started to fly out of the woods on the north side of the road.  None of the farmers are hit, but they cry out in alarm and rush towards the riders.  The five riders keep themselves close as they move forward a little bit, their eyes searching for the bowmen.  As soon as they are close enough the bigger farmer yells out “Get the girl!”.  With that, the four farmers and two bowmen attack the group.  

A rough fight ensues, with one of the ‘farmers’ knocking Jallarzi out.  Fortunately luck and skill is with these riders.  Two of the so-called farmers are killed as well as two of the bowmen.  Kellron invokes the Grace of Sarath and heals the wounds he can.  They then try to question their captives.

Unfortunately this doesn’t reveal much.  The bravest of them is hostile to the party in general and to Jallarzi in particular.  “We don’t need your kind here!”  He states to the sorceress vehemently.  Carlanis, their leader, informed them that a sorceress was coming to town to practice her evil magic.  The five couriers look at each other.  This sort of attitude is not unknown, even now, but none of them like it.  They decide to take their prisoners onto Milbourne.

It’s only a couple hours to the little community and the five couriers immediately find out that a man name Garyld is the defacto lawman in town.  They turn their prisoners over to him and give them their story. After that they head off to ‘The Baron of Mutton’ to find a place to stay.  The inn is comfortable but they find that a tragedy has struck the owners of the Baron.  Their eldest son’s fiancée, Jelenneth, is missing.  More, Jelenneth was a wizard in training who was visiting her family and friends.

It seems Jelenneth was staying at the inn for the last couple days.  Last night she had turned in early, but this morning she was gone.  Moreover, they found her bag of spell components shoved under the bed.  There was no sign of struggle and she left no note.

The whole group decides to help, offering to deliver a message to Jelenneth’s master, Tauster, who is the very mage they’re delivering their package to.  Additionally, they take the time to search Jelenneth’s room as well as sweep the area outside her bedroom for tracks.  Hearing that Jelenneth sometimes went looking for spell components and such, they decide that in the morning to head up to the abandoned mines.


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## Seravin

*DM's Notes*

My players are psychic.  That's the only answer that comes to mind.  
They get the lead about Jelenneth and then start nosing about town trying to get the lay of the land.  Well and good, I understand that.
But their very next thought is: "Let's head to the abandoned mines."  

I've seen it again and again.  It's a strange world some days.


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## Seravin

*A day and a half  trip*

_The community of Milbourne grew up to serve the needs of miner who dug for the semi-precious garlstone in the Blanryde Hills to the north.  Laying at a natural ford in the Churnett river, it was a natural stopping point for those traveling to or from the bigger mining city of Blasingdale.  Eventually the locals began logging the nearby woods, and harvesting the local apple trees for sale to the city.  Milbourne was now a well to do, if quiet little village.  Now days however the first mine, called appropriately Garlstone Mine, was closed after being played out.  The miners have moved on to a newer mine, closer to Milbourne and have been working it steadily for over two decades._

The morning comes early with a slight overcast.  Knowing that there is no deadline for delivering Tauster’s package the group decides to find Jelenneth; each with their own reason. 

“If I was going to hide out as a kidnapper, it would be at the mines.”  Remarks Kestral.  The rest of her new companions agree, so putting deed to words, they take their horses and head northwards, veering a little eastwards of the hills until they find the right path that will taken them to these mines.  It’s an easy enough journey for the group and their horses and by noon they start their climb into the hills.  A mere two hours later they’re tying the horses to the nearest bit of scrub and looking at the forbidding entrance to the mine.

The cave entrance is about fifteen feet across and almost as high.  Decades of tailings have rendered the area immediately adjacent to the mine devoid of all plant life – despite having almost twenty years to recover.  Only black and gray rock decorate the landscape.  Here and there bits of abandoned pieces of metal, rusted and useless, lay forlornly on the ground.  Only a few yards away the remains of building can be seen, though it looks like a fire has taken them all, leaving only blackened timbers and charcoal.  The only sound the companions hear is that of a slight breeze rustling their cloaks and clothes.

“Think anyone is there?”  Asks Kestral.
Kellron lets his pack down and pulls out a torch.  It takes him only a minute to get a flame going and soon the torch is blazing, dancing in the soft breeze.  “I’ll find out.”  He tells them as he heads towards the entrance, drawing his sword with his free hand.  The sun has moved into the western sky and now illuminates at least ten feet of the interior of the dark tunnel.  

He’s checked at the entrance though with a bestial roar echoing from deep within the tunnel.  “AAARRRGG!! Take that light away!”  Comes a deep voice.  

Kellron pauses momentarily.  The voice is too deep to be human and the imperial tongue is clumsy on it.  Perhaps it’s a really big orc; hopefully nothing bigger.  He steels himself as he tries to peer into the darkness.  Taking a step forward he speaks up.  “Excu…”

“GO AWAY!!”  Roars the voice again.  Louder this time and perhaps only twenty feet away in the darkness.  Before Kellron can collect himself there’s a whuffing of displaced air and a rock about three hand-spans across comes flying out of the darkness.  It hits the paladin high in the chest as he tries to twist out of the way, knocking him and twisting the metal rings of his chain shirt.  He wasn’t sure but he thought he heard a bone crack.

Gasping for breath Kellron steps back and to the side out of the way of any other boulders.  The other four companions did likewise.

“What the hells is that?”  Asks Ashimar.
“Ogre maybe.”  Says Kellron through clenched teeth.  With a whispered prayer he feels the grace of Sarath touch him.  “Thank you.”  He whispers.  He then looks over his companions.  “Do you want to chance it?”  He asks.  The paladin is willing if needs be, but the risk is great and the reward is uncertain.
“I don’t think so.”  Says Kestral slowly with some thought.  “Not unless we can come back with something bigger.  Besides, we don’t know that anyone has come through here at all.”  She looks at the cave entrance again.  “How did an ogre get down here anyway?  I haven’t heard of any within the empire in over two centuries.”
“Who knows?”  Replies Panther.  “Perhaps there’s some secret route from the mine that goes north under the mountains.”
The five confer some more and decide to head to the active mine south of them.  

_The Carman Mine was started almost three decades ago by the same Carman family that watched over Milbourne.  Like the Garlstone Mine it produced the whorled and translucent blue garlstones that were used in decorating jewelry._

The five companions made it to the Carman Mine as the sun was hanging low in the sky.  Unlike the last mine, the buildings are still standing and there was a lot of activity to be seen.  Unfortunately the companions learn nothing upon questioning the miners here, except that the miners are generally unfriendly and uncommunicative.  However Ashimar and Kellron are able to wrangle permission from the suspicious miners to spend the night as the sun was going down and they were unwilling to travel back to Milbourne in the dark.


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## Seravin

*Personalities of Milbourne*

I’ve given the people of Milbourne short shrift recently.  Upon recollection the very first day the group arrived in the sleepy little town they made an effort to meet everyone.  Kestral and Panther made an especially hard effort.

So, names that you’re going to see further on include:
*Lord Carman*, the most prominent landowner of Milbourne and he owns the Carman Mines to the north.  He reports directly to Count Parlfray whom you may hear about later.  For the most part the elderly Lord Carman is the de-facto mayor of Milbourne.

*Garyld*, the town’s law man.  This older gentleman has been in these parts for a long time and people respect him.  He makes his living working wood (furniture, bows, and the like), but he’s also responsible for making sure that strangers don’t get too rowdy and that trouble generally stays away.  Though he walks with a limp now, people still remember that he was a member of the Imperial Scouts once.

*Semheis*, of Latina.  One of the town’s newest members, he was assigned to Milbourne by the Church of Latina out of Corlean.  Semheis is responsible for the spiritual welfare of the villagers and aids in healing those with minor hurts and ailments.  Additionally he can be called upon to interpret matters of law.  However Semheis is relatively young and has only been in Milbourne for about a year.  Zealous and idealistic, Semheis has not become the important figure in the village that he thought he would be and church attendance is dropping.

*Old Grizzler*, a miner from way back.  He worked the Garlstone Mines for over a century before they closed.  He’s now retired, spending his time at The Silver Crown, the town’s tavern.  Alternatively if he’s not there he’s terrorizing any fish brave enough to come within a mile of Milbourne.  Old Grizzler has a thousand tales.  And he’ll tell you all about them.  Repeatedly.


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## Seravin

*Onwards to Thurmaster*

On the new morning the five companions head back to Milbourne, about three hours away by horse.  Upon arriving in the small town they quickly find Garyld and inform him of the ogre up at the Garlstone Mine.  Garyld is naturally concerned, but it’s a ways away.  He promises to look into it and thanks the party for their efforts and information.  
After that the group collects their belongings, let Andren, Jelenneth’s fiancée, know that they have not found her yet and continue on to Thurmaster.

The first day of travel is uneventful while they follow the north bank of the Churnett to Thurmaster.  However fortune is with the small group.  There are farmsteads all along the riverbank between Milbourne and Thurmaster and as the five travelers are thinking about finding a place to sleep, they happen across one such.  It’s clean and well kept with a small stock of cattle and two medium size fields growing some sort of grain or such.  

They quickly decide to see if they can sleep in the barn or some such and go up to meet the owners.  The owner is one Kupier, also a former Imperial Scout.  Kupier grew up in the region and settled here after his stint in the scouts.  It turns out that he also likes to keep an eye on things hereabouts.  Kupier is immediately concerned at the party’s tale of Jelenneth’s disappearance and tells them he has not seen her in over a week.  But he does know that the woman will sometimes hunt for herbs around a place called Hog Brook, located in the Thornwood forest across the river.  The aging scout offers to lead the group to the places she sometimes visits.  The group quickly accepts the offer.

The next morning dawns quickly enough and Kupier and his family rises with it.  After a quick breakfast, Kupier ferries them across the river on his boat (the horse being left at his farmstead).  The six then make their way deep into the forest, cautioned by Kupier’s tale of giant spiders.

There is no sign of the wizard-apprentice though.  Certainly no sign that Kupier can divine.  As the sun passes it’s zenith they do come upon a wild-woman, dressed in furs and hide and accompanied by two wolves.  Kupier raises his hand in greeting and asks the companions to wait while he talks to the woman.  After conferring with her he comes back and introduces her to the party as Oleanne, a follower of the Forest.  Oleanne has not seen Jelenneth but she has her own plea for help.  Maxim, the son of another farmer in the region has recently changed into a bear!  There’s been no luck in finding Jelenneth so Kupier asks for their help in finding and calming Maxim.  Thus the group of seven people and two wolves continue on until darkness forces them to take their rest.

It is not a peaceful night though.  As clouds roll in from the south and Jola, the silver moon, begins her descent, the wolves wake to some noise in the wood.  Fortunately Panther was on watch at the time and he quickly wakes everyone.  Just in time to as almost a dozen orcs charge from the darkness, intent upon killing them all.  
At first it looks grim, but the wolves quickly turn the tide of battle and soon eight orcs lie on the ground dead while three survivors flee.  Oleanne decides to follow them.  Orcs aren’t suppose to be south of the mountains and she wants to know where they lair.  She bids them farewell and wishes them luck with the boy-bear.

Early the next morning, only a little while after starting out, Kupier picks up the trail of the boy Oleanne was following and it quickly leads to a wounded and angry bear.  Kupier pulls two nets from his pack and hands one to Kellron and the other to Ashimar, telling them he’ll draw Maxim’s attacks.  
It’s a short skirmish and eventually the bear is netted and brought low to ground, despite its struggles.  Finally the struggles get weaker and weaker until the bear passes out.  The form then shifts underneath the nets into a young boy who is just starting to grow peach fuzz on his chin.

From there the five companions, Kupier, and Maxim head back to Kupier’s farm, with the old scout trying to cheer the young man up and take his mind off the change.  Once at the farm the companions thank Kupier and say goodbye, heading off to Thurmaster.


----------



## Seravin

*Welcome to Thurmaster*

Night had fallen a little while ago when the five companions finally made it to the stockade that surrounded the village of Thurmaster.  Perhaps a hundred people live within the wooden walls providing lumber and food to the city of Corlean further north.  There wasn’t much to recommend a person to this village though.  Only forty years ago reptilian beastmen boiled out of the swamp that lay a few miles to the south.  The beast-creatures had attacked and sacked the village.  Two things came from that devastating raid.  The first was the stockade, built even before the village-folk began rebuilding their homes.  The second was that Count Parlfray had dug deep into his purse and hired mercenaries.  Within a month most, if not all, of the beast-folk were dead.  There were still rumors that some of the scaly-folk had survived and were even now living deep within the swamp, in places where not even winter touched, but no proof of such.

The cost of rebuilding and the cost of the mercenaries had been high though.  It was only now, four decades later, that the village was finally starting to regain it’s feet – though slowly. Many farm buildings still stood in ruin outside the stockade’s walls and when the season was wet the interior of the stockade was only slightly better than a mud pit.  

The doors to the stockade were closed and locked when the companions made their way to the gate.  Fortunately there was a guard somewhere nearby though, for when Kellron called out they were quickly answered.  The five were questioned to their identity and their business within the small village by the surly and suspicious gate guard but in the end they convinced him they meant no harm.  Kestral mentioning that she bore a package for Tauster seemed to satisfy him.  They got directions to Tauster’s home (“It’s the one with the tower.  What do you expect from a high and mighty mage?”) and started to make their way there.

Kestral wouldn’t have bet there were more than a score of buildings in the stockade as they walked through the quiet streets (though calling them streets was pretentious in the extreme).  Naturally enough Tauster apparently lived at the far side of the village, but the walk wasn’t far.  Quickly enough they saw the small stone cottage with a light in the window.  Attached to the cottage is a little two-story tower.  They spare glances for each other and shrug.  Ashimar then goes up to the cottage door and knocks.

A few moments later (interspersed with mutters of discontent from inside) and the door is opened by an elderly man with long white hair and a lean frame.  He was dressed comfortably in clean trousers and a gray flannel shirt.  His gray eyes appraised the strangers before him for a long time before he suspiciously asked “What do you want?”  Jallarzi noted that his fingers were long and curled in such a way as to suggest that some powerful magics were barely waiting to be unleashed.

What that spell was they never found out – fortunately.  Ashimar promptly informs him that they have a package and a message for him.  Tauster is suspicious a little while longer but crows in delight when he sees the small box that Kestral bears for him.  The box bears components for many powerful spells – he happily countersigns their contract from Master Kiel and lets them know that Squire Marlen can fulfill the voucher in the morning.
Tauster is less happy to hear that his apprentice is missing and listens to their story with grave concern.  Given that they went to the extra trouble to try and find his wayward apprentice Tauster offers to pay for their stay at the local inn, the Hounds and Tails (“But stay away from the meat pies he serves unless you’re part dwarf.”  He warns.)

The five companions and the old mage chat well into the night and they find many things to talk about.  Most significantly Jallarzi mentions that she has sorceress talents and is looking for a little tutoring.  Tauster is unsure but promises to think about it, however he tells her to stop by his place in the morning and he’ll loan her a small book to see what she makes of it.  He also offers the group another job, this time to bring a message to Kupier.  Further, he offers a reward of 50gp each if they can find Jelenneth.  “I never wanted an apprentice.”  The old man confides.  “But she was persistent and I find I was lonely for conversation beyond what the harvest was going to be like.”

The morning doesn’t come soon enough.  The Hounds and Tails is not known for it’s housekeeping or food.  Jallarzi expends some of her personal magics to de-flea her companions.  Then it’s a stop at Squire Marlen’s house, the village’s tax assessor and Count Parlfray’s right-hand man in the village.  The miser only haltingly pays out the monies due them and the party is relieved to get out of his house without paying any on the spot fines that the man is noted for.  Finally Jallarzi stops by to talk to Tauster and get the book he promised, and they then set out upon the road back to Milbourne.


----------



## Seravin

*More world tidbits*

_There are a couple things that I've alluded to that probably bear a bit more explaining at this point._

The first is that the Shtaran Empire and the lands it lays claim to are mostly human-centric.  The imperial family has both human and elven blood running through it, but for the most part the lands in which the party finds themselves are human lands.

Other races can be found within the empire, usually as members of the merchant class or serving in the army.
The so-called evil humanoids are only known as threats that live in the lands to the North beyond the mountains.  Occasionally an orc tribe will send traders south through Corlean, but it doesn't hanppen often and they rarely go far into imperial lands. 

Finally, the Library is a near universal organization within the empire which exists to regulate wizards and to ensure that there isn't another time of no-magic.  The enforcement is loose and usually only brought to bear against flagrant violaters.  And while membership is 'encouraged', it is not mandatory - just helpful.


----------



## Seravin

*Investigations*

Haralton is a small village of about one hundred people that lies about a half days walk south of Milbourne.  The inhabitants of the area are mostly farmers who work the rich soil to provide food for themselves, the people of Milbourne, and the cities of Blasingdale and Corlean.  Once a year they pay their taxes to Lord Carmon of Milbourne who in turn sends the monies onto Count Parlfray, who then pays it to the Imperial Assessors.

Unfortunately, over the last two years this cycle has started to change and not for the better.  At first the change was gradual and even fortuitous.  Two years ago the area was suffering a minor drought – except Haralton.  The ground retained water and the crops looked to be especially good.  As the year progressed though and the rains finally came, the ground still retained water.  Slowly, good cropland transformed itself into a soggy swamp and gradually drove the farmers elsewhere.  Now only a handful of farmers work the land around Haralton, and only around the fringes of the area they call New Mire.  

All of this has naturally lowered the amount of monies that Lord Carmon receives and he has noticed.  To that end he is offering 50gp each for up to two weeks of scouting to discover what is happening and the princely sum of 1000gp to stop whatever is causing it.  Kestral, on the lookout for a new job hears about this and the group decides to petition for the job.  Lord Carmon accepts, in no small part due to the recommendation of Garyld.

Thus three days after leaving Thurmaster, Ashimar, Jallarzi, Kellron, Kestral, and Panther all find themselves in Haralton asking questions, mostly to no avail.  However Panther is able to dig up an interesting rumor about a boy named Brigger talking about blue giants somewhere in the mire.

It didn’t take Kestral or Panther long to find Brigger at the farm of his parents just outside of Haralton.  The boy was about twelve years old and was pleased to see that somebody was interested in his tales.  Brigger’s parents were less pleased, but the chores were done so there wasn’t much harm in the strangers talking to the boy.

“They were huge!”  Exclaimed Brigger.  “Easily twice as tall, maybe three times as tall as you.” He says pointing to Kellron.  “They had big, iron shoes that looked all rusted and carried black, iron swords.”  He looked conspiratorially at Kestral.  “I don’t thing they were up to much good.  I bet they were looking for people to kill and eat.”

Kestral eyed the boy with a practiced eye.  There was no doubt in her mind that he was telling tales of some sort.  “Why didn’t they eat you then?”  She asks, keeping her disbelief out of her voice.

The boy puffed his chest.  “’Cause I was hiding.  I was fishing where Cutter Brook comes down from the hills.  My uncle use to farm that area and all the best fish are in pool there.  I got a couple good size ones too.”  Brigger’s hands indicated the size of the fish.  “It was getting dark and I was putting stuff away so I could get on home.  That’s when I heard their footsteps.  So I put myself under a bush so’s whatever was coming couldn’t see me.”  He smiled.  “It worked too, cause I saw them and they didn’t see me. All the other guys are jealous that I got to see blue giants now.”

“Mmhmm.”  Says Panther doubtfully.  “Three times as big as my friend here?” He asks, pointing to Kellron.

“Well, maybe not quite three times as big.  Could have been twice.  I am kind of little you know.  Everything is big.”

“So twice as big as Kellron here?  With iron boots and black swords?”

Brigger’s eyes were looking a little off to the side.  “Well sure.  That’s what I said.  Of course it was getting dark and I was hiding under that bush.  I might have mistook the size.”  

Panther smiled.  “That’s all right, it happens to all great adventurers at one time or another.  “So blue men with iron boots and black swords?  Are you sure they were blue?”

“Mister, that’s the one thing I am sure of.  They were as blue as my mother’s eyes.  And ugly too.  As ugly as my sister when she wakes up.”

The five looked at each other.  “How ugly is that?”  Asks Panther.

“Very ugly.  A big nose and wrinkly skin all over.  And very big eyes.”  The boy shudders.  “I barely got out with my life, but one of them fell into the water while they was fish…. Oops.”

Panther nodded understandingly.  “So they were fishing with iron boots and swords?”

Brigger looked down at the ground and scuffed the dirt with his shoe.  “No sir.  They had black boots.”  He looked up at the half-elf.  “But they could have been iron.  I just wasn’t close enough to see it very well.”

“Iron it is then.  What where they fishing with?  A line and pole?”

“Spears.  It’s why one of them fell in.”

Kestral fished a silver piece out of her pouch and flipped it towards the boy.  “Thanks for the story.  It was very inventive.  Have you thought about being a bard?”

Brigger snatched the coin out of the air and looked at the pretty young woman in front of him, nearly his size too.  He wasn’t quite old enough to understand why boys liked girls, but seeing Kestral brought him a little closer to it.  Uncomfortable, he looked back at the farm house.  “Th-thank you, miss.  I got to go back and do chores now though.  Bye.”

The five companions smiled as the boy ran back to the house, his mother waiting in the doorway for him.  “Well.  That was informative.”  Said Kestral.  “Shall we find Cutter Brook in the morning?”  There was a murmur of agreement and the five headed back to the little boarding house where they planned on spending the night.


----------



## Morwyld

Very very interesting so far.  I look forward to seeing what happened to the apprentice, if they ever find out.

Big blue guys, eh?  Very cool indeed.

Keep up the great writing.


----------



## Seravin

It's been a fun game.  At this point the party is around second level.  
Jallarzi has taken a level in wizard, splitting away from sorceror forever more.
Ashimar took a level in fighter and picked up weapon finesse with the rapier he uses.
Kestral, Kellron, and Panther all stayed single classed, though Panther's player eventually left the game.

This was all about a year ago in real time (and game time too, strangely enough).  The party is now about fourteenth level and still hasn't happened across poor Jelenneth.  However they have communed with the gods and have reason to believe she's still alive - so there's reason to hope for a rescue.

And thanks for the praise.  It's nice to know other people are reading this.  It makes it worth while.


----------



## Seravin

*Two days later*

The five looked across the small valley formed by the rocky hills.  The sun had just come up and they watched the guards move inside to escape the glare of the rising sun.  “Goblins.”  Says Kellron.  “Related to orcs but not quite as tough.  Mean though.”

It had taken the better part of a day to find the goblin cave, and most of it they had spend slogging through the swamp following the brook to its headwater.  Fortunately it was a mostly boring trip, though they had an encounter with a snake that had almost bitten Kellron.

From there it was quick trip into the hills to discover the cave.  Kestral’s sharp eyes had picked out a well trodden trail that led to this little valley and Ashimar had spotted the guards at the cave entrance.  They had indeed been blue.  Wisely they retreated a ways to spend the night elsewhere – with a very watchful guard.

Now it was morning and they were again at the mouth of the little valley.  “I’ll go in.”  Volunteered Ashimar.  “I can scout around, maybe weaken them.”  Ashimar is fairly confident about his abilities as the events of the past two weeks and some close practicing with Kellron has sharpened his fighting skills a bit; though Ashimar’s style with the fencing blade is very different then Kellron’s straight-forward military approach.

The party conferred a bit and looked at their resources.  A potion that granted the ability to see in the dark was provided and Ashimar slowly snuck his way up to the entrance of the cave, making as much use of cover as he could.  At the cave entrance he cautiously peered in.  There were two goblin guards there and not very attentive.  Making a fast decision, Ashimar charged, hoping to kill them before an alert could be raised.  

Under Ashimar’s surprise assault, one of the goblins did indeed go down quickly.  The other one was a hair quicker in recovering than Ashimar had counted on and ran squealing for help.

“Damn.” Thought Ashimar and he raced after the fleeing goblin.  At a crossroads, it fled to the left and Ashimar followed until he managed to catch up.  By this time help was arriving.  Ashimar made short work of the goblin who had fled, but looking up he saw over a dozen charging towards him.  Eyeing the distance, Ashimar let the lead one catch up to him, easily cutting it down, before he himself began his retreat.  The young tough made it out into the light and down the valley before the goblins could gather the courage to leave the cave.  He was behind a large rock before the goblins could even spot him.

“We could talk to them.”  Suggested Kestral while the five conferred on what to do.  The young woman was a genius and a natural linguist and rarely had trouble making friends.

“I just killed three of them.”  Pointed out Ashimar.

Kestral shrugged.  “Unless you want to go in there and fight them in their tunnels.  You saw a dozen guards just down one tunnel?”  She paused a moment.  “They have a language of some sort.  Maybe they understand orc or even the imperial trade tounge.”

“You speak orc?”  Asked Kellron.

“Doesn’t everyone?  I’ve picked up a lot of languages.  A courier can’t know too many languages.  It’s easier to get jobs that way.”

The five confer a bit more and then decide to follow Kestral’s course of action.  Cautiously they approached the cave entrance again, this time without weapons drawn.  Though Jallarzi had a magic missile in memory – just in case.

Kestral approaches the cave first this time, leading Kellron by about ten feet.  “You.  In the cave.”  She calls out in passable orcish.  The language is known by a few in the empire – especially by those who served in the northern armies.  Kestral’s teacher had been a former soldier who had spent over a decade guarding the imperial borders in the north.

Cautiously a head peeked out of the cave with a spear raised; its yellow eyes blinking rapidly in the light of the overcast day.  It was indeed a goblin, standing somewhere around the height of a short dwarf.  The skin was indeed baggy, but instead of being the normal yellow for a goblin, it was painted a vivid blue.  The same paint had been applied to its shock of dark hair on its head.  The creature saw Kestral and her companions and grunted something in its native tongue.

“I don’t understand.”  She grunted again in orcish.  “Do you understand me?”  Kestral was abusing the grammar horribly by not using the more confrontational adjectives – but she deemed she could get by without them.

“Go away.”  Ordered the goblin warrior, raising his spear threateningly.  “You cause enough problems.”

“We need to speak with your chieftain.”  Explained the young courier.  

“Go away, or we kill you.”  The goblin was more emphatic this time.

“Fetch your chieftain.”  Ordered Kestral more forcefully.  “We would like to talk to him.  We apologize for the problems we caused.”

The goblin warrior, Klipterup thought about it.  If these crazy humans were the ones that killed the other three warriors, then Maglubiyet knew that he wasn’t going to stop them by himself.  “Wait here.”  He said and he ducked back inside the cave.

The party cooled their heels under the morning sky for about five minutes before a goblin voice called out in orcish from the darkness of the cave.  “Come forward.  No tricks or we kill you.”

Kellron lit a torch and the five companions moved forward cautiously into the cave mouth.  Before them stood about a dozen goblins; most of them with leveled spears.  In the center of the guards were two goblins a little fatter and better dressed then the others.  The taller and obviously stronger of the two was wearing furs that had seen better days and had a passable short sword at his side.  The other had further accented his furs and clothes with animal bones and had strange sigils sewn into his vest and carved into the simple staff that he carried; Ashimar’s and Kestrals’s practiced eyes also caught sight of a strange looking ring worn on the shaman’s left hand.  All of the goblins were painted blue.  

“Why do you come here and kill my warriors?”  Demanded the chieftain in orcish.

Kestral stepped forward a little bit.  “We’re sorry about that.  We were trying to find out why the marsh was growing in the lands below the hills.  We had also heard tales of strange blue creatures threatening people about here.”  Kestral almost missed it, but the shaman’s left hand flexed a little bit at the mention of the rising marsh.  

“Why does that give you the right to kill my warriors?”  Demanded the goblin chief.  “We’ve been here two winters now and hurt no one.  We just fish and stay out of you big one’s way.”

_‘Yes.’_  Thought Kestral.  “That was a mistake.”  Explained the woman.  She was a natural diplomat and was working her hardest to win the chieftain over.  “We’re sorry.”  She had to use the human word for sorry as the orcish language didn’t contain the word as far as she knew.  “We can make it up to you.”

Grundlegek was not a fool.  He had led this band of goblins for over fifteen years; from the time of terror, through the flight, and most recently through the time in these hills near the lands of the surface.  Grundlegek was a survivor of the first magnitude and part of that included the ability to see opportunities and the courage to take them.  “How?”  He asked suspiciously.  “The warriors you killed were valuable to our caves.”

“How valuable?”  Asked Kestral.

The chieftain looked at his goblin guards for a moment and then at the five surface-worlders before him.  With a nod of his head he sent his guards back a few feet and motioned his shaman to come with him.

“50 pieces of gold.”  Said the chieftain.  “Each.”

Kestral snorted and the negotiations began.  In the end it was decided that each of the slain goblins was worth ten gold each.  Additionally, upon hearing that the goblins had been subsisting mostly on fish threw in their entire supply of travel rations, excepting what they thought they needed to get back to Haralton.  It wasn’t enough to feed the entire tribe, but it was a nice touch and one Grundlegek seemed to appreciate.  Additionally Kestral managed to arrange to speak to the shaman, Burukkleyet, alone.

“What do you know about the swamp?”  She asked the canny old shaman.

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”  Kestral’s voice turned sweet.  “Come on.  It’s just you and me.  What could it hurt to tell?  It has something to do with the ring, doesn’t it?”  It was mostly intuition on her part, but Kestral had noticed that the shaman kept touching while she was negotiating with the chieftain –especially after she had mentioned the growing marshlands.

Burukkleyet considered for a moment.  “I’m not sure.”  He finally admitted.  There was something about the human girl that he found trustworthy.  It was disturbing, but there it was.  “I found it on our journey here.”  He showed her the ring.  It was a platinum band with a design on the top in the form of a circle with two wavy lines in the center, one atop the other.  To left of the symbol was a pale blue stone, perhaps sapphire.

Kestral nodded.  “The marsh started to rise about the time you and your people arrived.”

“We know.  We thought we’d be able to live off the farmlands as well as the fish, but the farmers left shortly after we arrived.”  The shaman looked a little resigned at this.  “The fishing has been good though.”

“What would you give for that ring?”

The shaman looked offended at the suggestion.  “This ring? It has powerful magic and all in the tribe know it.  The tribe would lose heart if I gave the ring away.”

“But you don’t even know what it does.”

And again the negotiations started.  This time it went harder and Kestral had to confer with her companions several times.  Eventually though she and the shaman came to an agreement.  

“One magical item then.  As a gift to you so your people know that your powers are still strong and a duplicate of the ring so no one knows of the change.”

Burukkleyet nodded, again resigned.  The woman bargained hard. 

The party spends the rest of the morning with the goblins, with Kestral trying to get Burukkleyet to teach her some of the goblin tongue.  She is unable to find out where the goblins came from originally, only that they traveled a long way underground to escape some terrible fate.  When the sun is high the group begins to make their way to Haralton, arriving only a little after sundown.

“No weapons.”  Warns Kellron.  “We’re not going to arm them so they can fight the villagers.”  The party agrees with Kellron’s request.

“Maybe we can get them to trade for what they need with the villagers.”  Suggests Kestral; although what the goblins could trade she doesn’t know.  Those thoughts were for another time though.  In the meantime they needed to get that ring.  A thousand gold pieces depended upon it.


----------



## Seravin

*A Return to Blasingdale*

_From Haralton the party went to Milbourne in the morning and checked in with Garyld and Lord Carmon to let them know of the goblins and to inform the pair that the group needed to go to Blasingdale for research and to meet with people at the Library and that they would be back soon.  Garyld was quite interested in the news of the goblins and that they had been there for two years without anyone noticing.  On a whim the group also found Old Grizzler, the dwarf to see if he could make a ring of the sort they needed.  Old Grizzler couldn’t but recommended his cousin in Blasingdale.  “A fine jeweler she is.”_

Two days later, as the sun was making its way down, the five companions found themselves back in the town of Blasingdale.  Rumors and stories of a recovered dwarven Lor, Khundrukar, filled the common room of the inn they had decided to stay at.  The Lor now stood in ruins and had been inhabited by orcs of all creatures, and whispers told of these orcs serving some dark beast in the depths of the halls.  Mercenaries hired by Ker Lordan of the Lordan Trading House though had put down the orcs and the beast.  There were still rumors of orcs roaming the hills and mountains but people were confident that Baron Althon and the Imperial Guard would take care of things.  Besides the town was busy preparing for the upcoming mid-summer festival.  The party ignored the stories though and made immediately for the Library.

“This way.”  Pointed Kestral towards a rather imposing two-story building sitting on a well-trimmed lawn.  “The Library.  Master Kiel should be able to sell us something.”  The rest of the group nodded in anticipation.  Everyone knew that the mages of the Library could enchant anything.  How hard could it be?  Even the doorknocker on the front door was enchanted to question and announce visitors.

Twenty minutes later they had inkling.  “An enchanted item?  My dear people, we don’t have those lying around.  Commissioning one of those will take time and money.  Significant money.”

“How significant?”

“Not less then one thousand gold lions.”  Said Master Kiel.  “Unless you’re looking for a potion of some sort?”  No one gasped but until they could prove that the ring the goblin shaman wore had caused the creation of the swamp, they wouldn’t get that kind of money.  Of course they couldn’t prove that until they got the ring and they wouldn’t get the ring until they traded over a magic item for it first.  For which they needed the thousand gold.

“Unless,” Started Master Kiel, gaining everyone’s full attention.  “It is possible we might be able to work out a deal?”

“What kind of deal?”  Asked Jallarzi suspiciously.

“We have a problem.”  Started Master Kiel.  “The Library that is.”  He clarified.  “One of our members seems to be incommunicado.  Or something.”  His tone was slightly worried and hopeful.  “Would you be willing to try and contact him?”  

“Why don’t you guys do it?”

Master Kiel looked somewhat frustrated.  “Protocol more than anything else.  He’s in his sanctum as far as we can tell and as member of the Library we are pledged not to invade his private areas without invitation.  You on the other hand have no such restriction.”

The companions looked at each other and then at the Master of the Blasingdale Library with some suspicion but in the end, necessity drove them.  “We’ll be here in the morning after we run some errands.”  Says Kellron.

“Excellent.”  Smiled Master Kiel.  “In the morning it is.”  He paused thinking of something suddenly.  “Now that that is concluded, what sort of magic item was you thinking of?  Some enchantment for your armor perhaps?”  He asked looking at Kellron.

Kellron shakes his head.  “No.  Nothing offensive but something we can give to someone else.”

Kiel looked confused but shrugged his shoulders.  “Very well.  A magic cloak perhaps?  Enchanted to ward off spells?  We do something similar for the senior guardsmen of the town.”

“That’ll do.”  Says Kellron.

_The party then spent the rest of what remained of the day running around the city.  Their first order of business was to find Old Grizzler’s cousin and commission her to create a ring to Kestral’s specifications.  Fortunately she had taken a small imprint of the ring before leaving the shaman.  Afterwards Kestral went to West Hill, a district in town where sages and their ilk were known to be for hire.  She immediately found and  ingratiated herself with one part-time teacher/sage and convinced him to teach her a few words of the goblin tongue.  She walked away with a small chapbook of known goblin words and phrases.

Meanwhile Panther and Ashimar went looking through the city on the off chance that they could find a magical item somewhere.  They were eventually led to a small shop off the main market street.  The owner, one Ableton did indeed claim to have a magical item that he would be willing to part with – a pair of fine leather gloves that relieved his arthritis.  But he would only part with them for the price it would take to commission the Library to make another pair; 4000 gold lions.  Regretfully they had to walk away, but Ashimar privately vowed to somehow come up with the funds._

In the morning the five companions arrived at the Library of Corlean, were announced by the golden, lion-headed doorknocker, and directed to meet Master Kiel on the second floor “Mind the purple step – it might explode.”  Warned the doorknocker.

Once upstairs Master Kiel showed them the great black stone arch, standing almost ten feet high and nearly as wide.  It was filled with a gray smoke that was impossible to see through.  “Just step inside and you’ll find yourself in Master Laaris’ sanctum.”  Explains Master Kiel.  “Just find him and let him know we’re worried.  If he’s in trouble or hurt, do whatever you can to aid him.”

One by one the five companions stepped through the gray shrouded archway and disappeared.


----------



## Seravin

*Interlude*

Master Laaris of the Library was fairly non-descript as wizards go.  He dressed comfortably, kept mostly to himself, and followed those strictures of the Library as he thought was wise.  His interest and specialties were in conjurations and planar mechanics; of which he was considered to be one of the foremost authorities still alive today.  Because of his specialty he was granted one of the deep cysts for his lab and quarters – a cavern (located somewhere) with no entrance or exit save the single gate that linked it with the rest of the Library, and three other very specific gates that allowed only the passage of water, waste, and air.

Three months ago Master Laaris came across the existence of a bizarre creature called a hakeashar, located in some strange realm and possessing the ability to consume magic.  Being a competent and wise practitioner of magic he did not immediately attempt to summon one.  Instead he brought it to the attention of his peers along with his stated intent so summon one for study.  Naturally there was much consternation from his peers, for if such a creature was set loose in the Library proper there was no telling the havoc it would cause.  Master Laaris pointed out that such a creature would almost certainly consume the magics around the gates leading out of his cyst though – effectively trapping it if anything untoward happened.  Permission to summon the creature was granted.  Sadly no one thought to question how Master Laaris came across the existence of the creature.  All of them, including Master Laaris, would have been very surprised that the text he acquired describing the creature had been given to him by design.

The same magical text had omitted many things about the hakeashar.  The book noted that hakeashars were intelligent, but failed to mention that they were cunning and above bargaining.  It noted that hakeashars could consume magic, but failed to mention that was how they lived and showed no compunction in consuming all magic they came in contact with.  It also noted that hakeashars came from a distant realm with planar coordinates that were seemingly only theoretically possible, but failed to mention that those same coordinates were also home to other, darker things.  But then, those same darker creatures were the ones that arranged for Master Laaris to get the book.

Master Laaris was wiser and more patient then he was given credit for though.  The implications inherent in a mobile, magic-eating creature were enough to make him consider thoroughly what he would need in order to successfully bind one.  A standard magic circle probably wasn’t going to be enough.

Three days ago Master Laaris’ preparations were ready.  Satisfied he, with the help of his senior apprentice, began the process of conjuring the creature.  The coordinates were nonsense and the name of the creature was unpronounceable without first using alteration magic on his voice-box, but the conjuration worked.  Ten minutes after the start of his spell Master Laaris had a bound hakeashar in his specially prepared summoning circle.

Two hours after the summoning, with all attempts of communication failing, Master Laaris sat down to supper with his senior apprentice.  “Maybe it’s retarded.”  He sighed.  “We can try summoning another one on the morrow I suppose, if this one doesn’t become more tractable.”

Melisande, the apprentice, never had a chance to reply as both she and Master Laaris were surprised by the sudden materialization of what at first glance appeared to be an elf and four orcs.  Instead Melisande had just enough presence of mind to notice the wisps of dissipating vapor around the five and think to herself _Ethereal travel_.  Then the elf threw what appeared to be a rotted mushroom onto the table.  The mushroom exploded in a riot of colored spores and then neither Master Laaris or senior apprentice Melisande were thinking at all.


----------



## Seravin

*The Library*

Ashimar was the first through the gate, followed quickly by Kellron.  Jallarzi was next, then Panther, and finally Kestral.  The five found themselves in a darkened hallway, illuminated only dimly by the faintly glowing gray mist behind them.  Jallarzi invoked a spell of light and the others blinked at the sudden illumination.  They found themselves in a wide hallway made of well-fitted stone blocks; empty wall sconces dotted the hallway.  A short ways down the hallway on their left was a doorway, opposite that on the right was a hall.

“Well, it looks peaceful enough…”
“Shhhh!  Did you hear that?”
“Huh?”
“Rarrag!!!”

All but Ashimar was surprised as the distinctive snap of crossbows being fired filled the air; but then Ashimar had taught himself the language of the abyss from the book he had stolen and understood that ‘rarrag’ meant ‘attack’.  

Following up with the crossbows, the attackers then made their way into Jallarzi’s sphere of light with jagged, curved swords.  At first glance they appeared to be orcs, but their eyes were a solid scarlet red with no pupils, and instead of skin they were covered with delicate scales.  The stench of sulphur and the demonic tongue confirmed for Ashimar that these things were from someplace far worse then the depths of a mountain.  The young rogue quailed momentarily before finding his resolve.

Fortunately, demonic or not, the fight was over quickly.  Both Ashimar and Kellron rushed to meet their attackers whilst Panther and Kestral tried to look for shots of their own with shortbow and crossbow respectively.  Jallarzi took careful note of her targets and laid down a barrage of mystic bolts.  In the aftermath Kellron prayed to Sarath for healing for both himself and Kestral while Ashimar drank from one of their precious healing potions.

“What are they?”
“Not orcs.”
“Demons.  That’s all they could be.”
“What summoned them?”
“Master Laaris?”
“There might be more, we better check the hallway out first.”

The hallway extended about eighty feet, ending in a small sitting room with the remains of many, large books scattered about it.  The furniture looked as if something had attacked it with swords.  Just before the sitting room was another hallway leading to the left.  The five companions conferred for a moment and eventually decided on exploring the door and then the short hallway first.

The door opened up into a kitchen and preparation room.  Plates and pots and utensils were whirling madly about the room.  Ashimar quickly shut the door.  “I didn’t see anyone.”  He declared.

The hallway across from them was short and ended at an ornate wooden double door.  Both Ashimar and Kestral looked the doors over, thinking they were too inviting and then cautiously opened one of the doors.  It was impossible to tell what the room really looked like as nearly every inch was covered in a riot of multi-colored molds.  In the center of the room was a large mound, on top of which was a mushroom standing almost four feet tall and covered with even more mold.  That door was closed slowly lest the displaced air disturbed something.

Another quick conference and the party decided to head down the last hallway.  They proceeded cautiously down the stone corridor, expecting an attack at any moment; but none came.  The corridor soon split and they chose the left hand path and went through the heavy stone door at the end.

It was a lab. Strange glassware filled with all sorts of colored liquids, were laid out on the tables and the scent of chemicals hung thick in the air.  In one corner there was a pit of discolored sand filled with discolored bits of glass.  On the far side of the chamber was an archway leading to another room.  A dim, pulsating red light emanated from that far room.  

Ashimar nodded towards the archway.  “I’ll go check it out.”  He whispered.  So saying he moved forward, ghosting nearly silently over the discolored stone floor stones.  He slowed downed as he reached the archway and peeked beyond.  He saw a short hallway that opened up into another chamber, from which strange colored bits of string and metal were hanging from the walls and ceiling.  A definite sense of something wrong filled the rogue.  Mustering his courage though Ashimar crept past the hallway and into the chamber.

It was a summoning chamber.  The book he had stolen had depicted several explicit diagrams that looked quite similar to the one in the far corner.  Thought to be fair, the one in the far corner seemed to be inlaid with some black metal and not blood. The chamber itself was about thirty feet square and the strange bits of string and metal covered nearly every inch of the ceiling and walls.  

The circle itself occupied the corner opposite the entrance and was about ten feet in diameter.  The circle and the runes surrounding and entwining the circle had been carved into a solid slab of dull gray rock; then they had been filled in with the black metal.  What really drew his attention however was the pulsating orb of red smoke, about four feet in diameter, hovering over the center of the circle.  As he looked at it in fascination Ashimar saw a half dozen eyes form within the smoke; one of them looking directly at him.  He nearly gasped as vicious claws also formed in the orb and raked outwards to the inner edge of the circle.  Shaking his head a bit Ashimar looked the room over closely.  Besides the creature in the circle the chamber appeared to be empty of life.

Noting a comfortable stuffed chair next to the circle, Ashimar cautiously entered the room.  He was about halfway across when he heard a low chuckle and a pair of harsh sounding words.  Suddenly an elf appeared as two missiles formed from raw magic streaked from his outstretched hand.  The elf, dressed in strange black leathers, was positively demonic looking with bright red eyes, and the scales embedded in its skin reflected the pulsating red light darkly.  The elf smiled, showing razor sharp teeth and shrugged his shoulders.  Ashimar started as he realized that the elf wasn’t wearing a cloak, but instead had a pair of massive bat like wings folded in close to his body.

“Who are you, little human?”  Asked the elf as he stepped forward.  Again he let fly another pair of magic missiles.  “Not that I care of course.”

“Guys!”  Bleeding, Ashimar decided the better course of valor was back the way he came.  Drawing his rapier he backed away out of the chamber.  Meanwhile Kellron was already drawing his sword and Jallarzi’s hands raised up a little as they started towards their friend.

The elf miscalculated.  He had heard a number of creatures enter, especially one in armor, but given his demonic heritage he was prone to over estimating his abilities.  Concentrating he stepped sideways, vanished, and reappeared in the laboratory – nearly on top of Kellron.

The chosen of Sarath only had to look at the elf and then see the bleeding Ashimar round the corner to know what he had to do, and the battle was joined.  

The demonic elf was tough, preternaturally so.  Kellrons’ first blow failed to penetrate the creature’s hide and Jallarzi’s magic missile flowed off its scaly hide like water. The elf chuckled with amusement as he invoked another pair of magic missiles.  

Then Ashimar got into position and taught the creature that distraction could be painful.  As the elf roared in pain Kellron swung with all his might yelling Sarath’s name.  The elf tried to get away at this point, trusting to luck to get away.  Ashimar followed up with another attack at the distracted elf though and the distraction allowed Kellron to score a hit across the elf’s delicate neck, breaking it.  The demonic elf fell to the ground, quite dead.


----------



## Seravin

Apologies, but this isn't going to be a long post.  I've started up at a new site with brand new responsibilites.  Plus life itself is acting up and getting all interesting on me.   Here's what I started to put together this week however.  Hopefully I'll have more by Saturday.

*Those who wait*

_Colors were everywhere.  Over there was the thick, viscous, crimson streaming down the pile of putrid yellow sounds.  Atonal symphonies clashed purple across acidic ice.  Steaming guts flowed across grass green roots climbing up from the cracked, umber stones.

<click>.  Klipklik blinked and brassy eyelids closed over sapphire eyes.  The human was insane.  Organic visions filled Master Laaris’ mind, drowning out Klipklik’s wise words.  Klipklik considered but was unable to come to a solution.  It had been three days and Laaris had not eaten nor drank.  He was on the brink of death and only the spores had kept him alive this long.  Klipklik was in the bedroom, two doors away but the handles on the doors, not to mention the weight, would be a problem.  

<tik><tik><tik>. Precision made gears clicked and turned, and mechanical wings stretched out and fluttered with a sound not unlike tiny brass cymbals.  It felt good but it didn’t help.  For the tenth time Klipklik thought about contacting Laaris.  For the first time he did not.  There was no help there.  

A high, ululating fluting sound filled the spacious bedroom.  A druid might have recognized it for a good representation of the mating call of a hawk owl. A well-versed bard might have recognized it as the opening movement to a little known elvish ballad.    Master Laaris would have recognized it immediately as the frustrated sigh from a twelve-inch long, brass construct shaped to look like a dragon, and animated by an elemental spirit.  Klipklik had been closed in the bedroom in case the hakeashar had somehow gotten free.  In retrospect that hadn’t been the best idea._


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## Schmoe

I just wanted to say that I'm really enjoying reading this story hour!  I hope that you find time in your busy schedule to continue updating it, as I'm looking forward to hearing about your party's adventures in the Night Below.


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## AsEver

Seravin said:
			
		

> A high, ululating fluting sound filled the spacious bedroom.  A druid might have recognized it for a good representation of the mating call of a hawk owl.




Cool visual, er, audial?


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## Seravin

*Finishing Up*

“Hopefully Master Laaris is beyond this door.”  Opined Ashimar.  The door he was referring to was at the far end of the hall from the lab where they had killed the demon-elf.  Once the fight had ended Ashimar had been able to confirm that the creature really was demonic.  He and Kestral had also been able to confirm that the creature was carrying several odd, hexagonal coins minted from platinum.  One side of the strange coins bore a couple odd runes and the reverse side held a geometric shape.  None of them had seen their like before.

Kestral stood up from her perusal of the door’s base.  “Doesn’t look trapped to me either.”  She informed everyone.  “And it’s now unlocked.  Shall I?”

The five friends looked at each other and nodded their agreement.  Kestral turned and slowly worked the latch and pushed the door in.  Beyond, was a forest glade sitting under the open sky.  Kestral looked back down the hallway and back into the glade.  

Off in the distance she could hear birds chirping.  Closer in, the branches of the trees were swaying in the wind.  Kestral sniffed once and stepped into the room.  Ashimar, then Kellron, then Jallarzi and Panther followed her into the room.

It was peaceful.  In the center of the glade was a large bush of some sort with yellow and blue flowers.  Off to one side it looked as if someone had chopped down two good size trees, hauled the trunk away, and leveled the stump.  It was very peaceful.

Jallarzi and Panther reached the same conclusion almost simultaneously.  “It’s not real.”  Stated Panther, though his voice indicated that he was intrigued..

Kellron looked around and kicked at the grass underfoot.  “Seems real enough.”

Ashimar frowned.  He couldn’t see through it, even when Jallarzi pointed out the bed in the center of the room or the bureau and the chairs.

Ashimar wandered around the glade looking at the various small trees and plants.  The young man stopped when he reached what looked to be a small tree.  In reality it was a table.  Concealed beneath the illusionary foliage was a miniature dragon made of brass.  As Ashimar studied it, the statue blinked.  “Guys?”  He called out softly as he knelt down to the study the statue more carefully.

Panther and Kestral looked up from the large bush with the flowers.  Panther had found a box under the bed and Kestral was trying to puzzle it out.  Seeing that Jared was interested in something she and Panther shared a glance.  Panther got up and wandered over to see what Ashimar was looking at.  Kestral then looked down at the box, figured out the latch and opened it.

Meanwhile the tiny dragon statue had cocked its head at Ashimar.  “Hey there.”  He said in a non-threatening voice.

“Hey guys!  Potions and a wand!”  Called out Kestral.

Ashimar winced and looked at the dragon again.  “Do you live here?”
Slowly, the dragon bobbed its head once.
“The Library sent us.  They’re worried about the owner here.”
Again the dragon statue bobbed its head.  The scales along its neck made a very soft ‘tinging’ sound.
“Is Master Laaris here?  Alive?”  Ashimar was rewarded with two more head bobs.”

At the mention of magical paraphernalia, Jallarzi had wandered over Kestral’s way.  The small wooden box was carved with a flower and leaf motif and lined with blue velvet.  Laying securely in the folds of the velvet were four potion flasks and a wand made of some dark wood.  Jallarzi cautiously examined the flasks markings.  “Two Healing, one Dragon’s Breath, and one of Cat’s Grace.”  She pronounced, interpreting the markings.  Along the length of the wand was imperial script, of nonsense syllables though.

Ashimar was making headway with the little brass dragon.  Apparently Laaris was alive but in trouble.  “Do you mind if we take the stuff from the box?”  He asked politely.  “We’ve fought terrible things already and are hurt.  If we need to help Master Laaris then we could use all the help we can get ourselves.”  The little dragon cocked its head once and finally nodded assent.  Ashimar turned his head slightly.  “Gather it all up guys.”  Then turning to the dragon.  “Can you take us to Master Laaris?”  

The dragon looked towards the open door and spread it’s wing.  With a couple powerful flaps it lifted off the table, though Ashimar couldn’t see how those fragile beaten wings could lift the brass body, and the dragon flew to a bush (table) next to the door out of the glade.

Kellron looked around and then drew his sword.  “Lets go.”  He pronounced and the five of them followed the little dragon.

For some reason none of them were surprised when the little dragon led them back to room full of mold and fungus.  Panther looked at Kestral who looked at Kellron who looked at Ashimar who finally looked at Jallarzi.  It was Kellron who spoke first.  He didn’t like the idea of going in, but it was needful.  “I’ll go in first.” He told them.  “Ashimar, back me up.”  It wasn’t the most complex of plans but it would do until they had more information.  None of them had a good feeling about this though.

Kellron opened the door and peered in with the light of enchanted torch they had picked up in the alchemical lab.  The room was about twenty feet across and maybe twice that long.  The ceiling vaulted overhead to a height of about twelve feet.  In the center of the room was a long shape, perhaps the size of a dining table, with two people size lumps at either end and large mound growing out of the center.  Riotous, sickly colors covered everything in textures of slime and fuzz.  Kellron took a deep breath and stepped into the room.

_Light intruded upon the growing chaos mold.  Normally found only in the darkest reaches of the abyss, chaos mold rarely ever saw light.  But millions of years of growth had taught the fungus one thing – only food brought light._

As Kellron crossed the threshold of the doorway the mold released its spores in burst, filling the entire room and crossing the threshold into the hallway beyond.  The colored spores covered everyone.

The spores affected Ashimar first and some private images caused him to stand still and stare at the walls, unmoving.  Amazingly Kellron was able to fend off the effects of the spores.  Kestral was overcome with images of demonic elves and orcs surrounding her and she immediately attacked Ashimar out of self-defense.  By some stroke of luck neither Jallarzi nor Panther were affected by the spores, both having exhaled at the time the spores had nearly set upon them each.  Both of the half-elves wisely decided to back away.

Then the free for all began, being attacked apparently impacted upon Ashimar’s delusions and he pulled his rapier and set upon Kestral.  Kellron, shaking his head to clear it became disorientated and stood stock still looking at the images his mind conjured.  Worried, Jallarzi dropped a sleep spell on top of her three friends.  Fortunately none of them were of the right mind to resist and they all fell to the floor, asleep.  “Get the door!”  She commanded Panther.  Disregarding personal safety, the half-elf bard ran to the door and closed it.

When Ashimar, Kellron, and Kestral came to, they found themselves bound with the very ropes that they had carried.  
“Are you all right now?”  Asked Jallarzi.

“Except for whatever died in my mouth, yes.”  Replied Ashimar.  None of the three felt good and a massive headache was promising to develop.

Jallarzi and Panther let their friends sit for a minute before they finally consented to release them.  They then conferred for a bit.  This time, armed with information, they developed a new plan.

Kestral and Ashimar cut long strips of cloth scavenged from the dead demon-orcs.  They then dashed into the kitchen with the flying utensils and wetted them down from a seemingly ever-flowing pipe.  Fortunately neither of them was hurt in the process.

Kellron and Ashimar then tied the wet strips of cloth over their mouth and noses.  Kestral and Panther took their bows out and along with Jallarzi stayed at the far end of the hall away from the door to the dining room.

Ashimar then looked at the little dragon.  “We need you to fly to your master.”  He told the little dragon, which nodded assent.  So saying, he and Kellron readied themselves, looked at each other, then opened the door.  

The little dragon took off like a shot to the lump on the right; the movement causing the chaos mold to erupt in spores again.  Unaffected this time, Kellron and Ashimar headed to the body that the little dragon was sitting on top of.  They were halted when the lump in the center of the table stood up, and six wicked long branches sprouted from it.  For all the world, it looked like a mold-covered mushroom with sharp branches and tendrils hanging from it.  The colors were in slime-purple and putrid-green.

One of the branches snapped out and scrapped along Ashimar’s chest.  He avoided screaming as fire burnt along the wound.  He  might have screamed if had seen the poison of the violet fungus cause the skin along the wound to turn black and gangrenous.  Ignoring the pain, he drew his rapier and tried to puncture the fungus, putting a cut along

Neither Kestral or Panther had a clear shot at the thing, but they let fly with their arrows anyway.  Jallarzi followed up with her last magic missile.  Seeing that Ashimar was engaged and knowing there were two lumps in there, Kestral put down her bow and ran down the hallway, taking a deep breath before she got too near the door.

Kellron by this time had grabbed the lump that the dragon was sitting on, and wiped away the mold and slime, revealing a gray-haired man in his late fifties of sixties.  The man was in bad shape, obviously dehydrated and starving.  Kellron started to drag the man out.

Kestral went around the other side, giving the paladin of Sarath a clear shot to the door.  Unfortunately the violet fungus sensed her movement and showed that it had surprising reach with it’s tendril like branches.  The branch scored a hit along her arm and it wall Kestral could do to not scream and inahale the spores.  The poison of the fungus burned down her arm and the weakness it caused nearly made her collapse under her own weight.  This gave Ashimar the opening he needed though, and he was able to stab his rapier deep into the creature’s mushroom like head.  Luckily he hit something vital and the violet fungus collapsed to the table, inert.

Kestral and Ashimar were then able to wrestle the second lump away, a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties.  She looked to be in nearly as bad a shape as Master Laaris.

_The five companions decide to spend the night in Master Laaris’ chambers rather than risk trying to figure out how to leave immediately.  Kellron used his battlefield first-aid skills to tend to Master Laaris and his apprentice and Kestral and Ashimar throughout the night.  Fortunately Master Laaris and his apprentice recovered quickly under the care and he was able to tell the party a little about what had happened.  The five companions felt a little used when they discovered they had been sent in because the other mages feared to face the hakeashar themselves.  They consoled themselves with the strange platinum coins though and the remaining potions and the wand that Master Laaris gifted them with.

In the morning Master Laaris used his Master’s Ring to open the gate to the Blasingdale Library, and the seven people walked to the other side to be greeted by a relieved Master Kiel.  As promised, he had an enchanted cloak waiting for them.  Thanking him the group went out into the city to find lodgings and enjoy the time as the Mid-summer festival neared.

The group stayed in town for nearly a week, waiting for the ring they had commissioned to be finished.  In the meantime they rested and spent their time doing what interested them.  Kellron spent time at the small chapel of Sarath in the city, learning what he could from the priestess there, while Kestral spent time with a sage trying to pick up what she could about the goblin tongue.  Ashimar and Panther roamed the city looking for rumors and generally just barely staying out of trouble; while Jallarzi studied her books and contemplated upon acquiring a familiar.  At the end of the sixth day they picked up their new ring and resolve to head out of town in the morning with an early start.

On the morning of the seventh day, as the sun was just barely over the horizon, the group left the city of Blasingdale – perhaps a little regretful about missing the full festival.  There were strange rumors and stories about the town leading up to the time before they left.  Wererats had attacked the people in the merchants square three days prior and the next day monsters had attacked a play set up in the poor section of the city.  Worse, the Library had closed its doors.  Fortunately there were mercenaries on hand who had managed to stop these things.  The last rumors heard by Kestral was that a party was being thrown in honor of these mercenaries for rooting out the nest of were-rats and bringing down a cabal of evil sorcerers.

Unbeknownst to any of them, if they had delayed their departure even two hours longer the companions would have discovered that the gates would have been barred against anyone leaving._

Four days later the companions presented themselves to the goblin shaman, Burukkleyet, again, this time bearing more food purchased in Milbourne as well as pots and pans and other useful cooking utensils.  Burukkleyet seemed like he wanted to renege on the bargain, but the gifts the group bought as well as a useful magic cloak was enough to convince him that it was better to keep up his end of the deal.

Kestral was the one he did the bargaining again, this time with a smattering of goblin words.  “Thank you very much.”  She said as she handed over the cloak at the same time she took possession of the ring.  “You won’t regret this.”

The shaman smiled wanly.  “I already do.  I’d rather have it all.”  He shrugged philosophically.  “Still, it’s not a bad deal.”

Not much else to say, Kestral pocketed the ring and the companions made their way back to Milbourne.


----------



## Seravin

Thanks for the kind words.  The hardest part is always finding additional time to do these updates.  I'm currently dm'ing two games, both of which are fun and generally take precedence over the updates.  

The problem is that both games are very challanging and require more preparation now that the players are higher level.  In this particular game, the characters are coming up on their one year anniversary with each other and are approaching 15th level.

The good news is that I have a year's worth of stories to tell already (and that's just for this game).  In the meantime I hope to pick up some writing tips while I read Sepulchrave's and Piratecat's posts.   

As a side note, I was running a different group of characters in my other game during this same time period.  For a variety of reasons (some planned, some not) this game got placed and started nearby the other group in which I was running the Adventure Path series.  Some folks might recognize a bit of Forge of Fury and the Speaker of Dreams in the background text concerning Blasingdale.  

Naturally both games were progressing at different rates, and when I was starting to compare the dates I realized that there was about to be a bit of overlap.  If the players had stayed over just a few hours more the gates would have been locked and I would have had to prepare something else to keep them occupied

It's been fun.


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## Seravin

*Further Notes*

As I noted above, this game has been going on now for about a year and a half now and I wasn't taking very good notes back then.

The last post is my best attempt at reconstructing the bits and pieces and as I recall them.  The next several posts are going to be like that too.

Additionally the dialog is mostly a fabrication based on the players discussions as I recall them.  Fortunately a couple of my players are reading this story hour so if I make any mistakes they should correct me.

Also, I had to edit the last story post a bit.  One of the rumors the party heard was that the Library had closed its doors while all the strange going-ons were happening.


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## Seravin

*Ack!  A week already?*

No update today, and probably not for the rest of the week.

However after looking over the logs after the last game session I discovered it's time to raise a glass and toast a memory of sorts.

One year ago (game time), Kellron, Jallarzi, Ashimar, Panther and Kestral all met.  Fittingly enough those who remain spent the anniversary much the way they had on their first meeting - planning and executing an ambush.  

For those who no longer remain it would be kind of you to lift your glass again.  Vieta Soultaker has laid her gentle hands on more than one of these friends, and The Emmeresa (the Ladies of Fate and History) have shown no favorites. 

In another day or so their anniversary of accepting their first joint courier commission will come to pass, and after that their arrival in Milbourne and the day they took up the quest to find the missing apprentice, Jelenneth.

It's been a pretty good journey so far.  I can't wait to tell you about the City of Corlean and how *[Deleted by imperiel Security]* and especially how the *[likewise deleted]* caught fire.

Their first explorations in the Night Below were pretty exciting; and the initial meetings with the secret creatures who dwell beneath the ground have kept their interest up.  

Now the companions are entering *[Location made secret to keep mercenaries with more greed then sense out]* and have brought back the wealth of entire kingdoms *[Denied by the Imperial Treasury - all rumors to the wealth flooding the Duchy of Larence are just that, rumors.]*

I'll try to have another post by Saturday.


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## Seravin

*People Talking*

The Baron of Mutton is a small inn and tavern in the center of the village of Milbourne.  The building itself was about sixty years old, constructed by an accomplished war veteran named Dirakster as a place where he could spend his years in peace.  Old Dirakster still owned the building though he left the running of the business to his two grandsons Andren and Barthelew.  Dirakster himself was crotchety and the oldest living human in the region; predictably the old man used those two facts to his advantage.  Currently however the old man was sleeping off one of his famous large lunches while his grandson Barthelew was keeping watch over the main room.  Andren had been in the room, but once he discovered that their current guests still had no word of Jelenneth he had left to brood.

In the corner of the room around a small table, the five companions picked at their food and discussed what to do next.  The magical ring they had labored so hard to get sat somewhat innocuously in the center of the table under their watchful gaze.  So far it had yet to manifest any magical powers though Jallarzi was left squinting for several minutes after attempting to ascertain its magical strength.

“So, where do we go from here?”  Asked Panther.  “None of the histories or texts I’ve come across have ever mentioned anything like this.”  He said waving a hand at the ring.  “The wave symbol looks water related, but who knows?”

“There’s a spell or two that might work.”  Suggested Jallarzi.  “One is suppose to be easy enough but it should reveal some of the minor magics of the ring.  The other is well beyond my ability to cast.  Neither one is cheap.”

Ashimar looked at the white-haired sorceress.  “Can you do the first one then?”

Jallarzi shook her head.  “No, it wasn’t in the book Tauster gave me but there are notes about it in the margins.  It’s not cheap to cast either.”

Kellron looked at his friends.  “So, Tauster?  Or the Blasingdale Library?  They’re both about the same distance away.”

Jallarzi considered for all of about a second.  “I’d prefer Tauster.  I’m all the way through the book he gave me and it’s given me some food for thought.”  The half-elf drifted off for a moment momentarily racing after a bit of magical theory.  She knew she was near a breakthrough.

Panther and Kestral exchanged glances, but it was Panther who spoke first.  “I was checking around while Kellron and Kestral were checking back in with Lord Carman.  There’s a barge headed down river and they’re looking for a bit of protection.  Rumor has it that a tribe of orcs has settled just north of Blasingdale and these guys don’t want to take any chances.  They’re bringing equipment to Count Parlfray and are willing to pay upwards to two hundred gold pieces for an experienced group of guards who will journey all the way to keep.”

Ashimar looked at the half-elf bard like he was deranged.  “For guard duty?  What do they have that needs that much protection?”

Panther just shrugged.  “Heck if I know but the captain seemed awfully concerned about orcs.  Apparently there’s been some trouble in Blasingdale since we left though none of the stories make sense.  Best I can tell is that Baron Athon closed up the city right after we left and the gates weren’t opened for two days.  One of the guardsmen says that some sort of river-monster attacks boats that get too close to Blasingdale and everyone asserts that there are hundreds of orcs in the vicinity of Blasingdale.”  Panther cocked his head to one side.  “I don’t know if any of this is true but they seem awfully worried.”

The five conferred for a few more minutes but eventually it was decided.  “On to Thurmaster it is.”  Declared Kestral.  “Jallarzi can talk to Tauster, he identifies the magics on the ring, we all earn lots of gold, and my courier business stays profitable.”

So saying, Kestral and Panther went off to find the captain of the barge (staying at the Silver Crown, Milbourne’s other tavern and only dive) and offer their services.  They weren’t necessarily the best example of the group’s fighting prowess but by the time they were finished talking to the barge captain, he was convinced that he was hiring the Emporer’s guards himself.  Talk of facing an ogre and surviving _(“I swear on my mother’s grace that Kellron took a blow from the beast and still stood.  In fact the beast wouldn’t even come out from its’ lair after seeing Kellron still standing”)_ and facing down the goblins who were now inhabiting New Mire _(“Ashimar went in alone by himself and took out three in place guards before we could even get there.”)_ all piqued the man’s interest, but it was tales of Jallarzi that finally made him agree to hiring the five people, prowess unseen _(“And we have a mage.  She’s fought demons with her spells and we can get the Library to back that up.”)_

Unfortunately neither of the pair noticed that they were being observed as they bargained with the captain.  The man was non-descript, dressed in well-worn clothes with hair and skin coloring that indicated that he was a native to the area.  After Kestral and Panther left the tavern to go inform their friends of their new employment the man quietly got up and left.  He made his way to the stables, collected his horse after paying the stablehand, and then took his horse and forded the river to the south side, and rode as hard as he could eastwards.  His boss was going to be interested in this news.  The white-haired witch was just what he was looking for.


----------



## Seravin

*Other Places*

_Perspective can be funny.

The Elves of the Sea with their great navies had long since established that the world crafted by the gods was round.  They had perceived the horizon and tracked the movement of the stars and were satisfied with their pronouncements. Thus the first boundary was proclaimed.

The halfling explorer, Porun Tanfed, had once flown his tamed iron-roc to the ‘very edge of the vault of the sky’.  He claimed that the air and the cold had rendered him nearly unconscious and would have killed him save for the magics he bore.  The dragon-sage Sarzenthelenthh acknowledged the explorer’s claim and noted that her kin had found the sky ended in a dark void.  And so the second boundary was noted.

The meanings of the Two Great Boundaries were a subject of debate amongst philosophers, sages, priests, and wizards for many years; and it is still touched upon even today.  Perhaps the world is finite because the power of the gods is finite.  Perhaps it is finite because the gods want the various races to battle for their enjoyment.  Perhaps the world is a crucible to make the mortal races stronger. 

Perhaps the best answer on the subject was delivered by some unnamed farmer of the Dor-Herivan Empire some three thousand years ago.  Three sages were traveling to some city and to pass the time were discussing ‘The Great Boundaries’ and predictably had reached an impasse.  In frustration they approached a farmer whose field they were passing to have him render judgment on what they perceived to be the self-evidence of their respective cases.  Reportedly the farmer listened politely to all of them.  The farmer then looked out across his fields to the mountains.  He then looked out across the road to the plains beyond.  “You say that the world is small?  I have my farm and till my soil in peace.  Me and my children and their children could journey our entire lives and never see this entire world and you say it’s small?  Perhaps you ought to take a look around and stop wasting my time.”

Of course time has moved on as it inevitably does and new theories have arisen to fit new observations.

The Elves of the Sea now speak of a race of tritons that rule far beneath the waves.  These tritons acknowledge that in some places there is a floor to the sea, but they acknowledge no boundary, saying instead that the oceans of the world flow into The Great Sea, home of Dyanna. 

The dwarves, rarely asked of their opinion on weighty philosophical matters, snort when asked about the boundaries of the world.  They have known for ages that Tasa formed the world from The Deep Earth from which there is no ‘other side’.

Foresters and rangers who have walked the various woodlands claim that all take longer to traverse than their size would suggest.  They talk of hidden valleys and even deserts that can be found deep within all forests.  Some even talk of vast kingdoms of Faerie.

Now wizards and sages versed in multi-dimensional magics point out that a sphere is only contained in a three-dimensional space.  These learned people view The Great Sea, The Deep Earth, and the Forest Kingdoms of the Fey as part of the same world that everyone else sees.  In some cases it is even easier to reach these far realms then it would be to traverse the local kingdom.

Perspective it seems is entirely subjective._


----------



## Seravin

*Celestial Decisions*

_Some time after a certain quintet of heroes had gathered and proven themselves there was a council in the Higher Realms, also known as Moran’s Rest, Heaven, and Godshome.  A mortal attending this council would not have heard or seen much unless those invited intended so.  Still, the very weight of the thoughts of those invited would have intruded upon this visitor.

First, and most important, a vast and strange alien city would have been featured, burned into this hypothetical mortal’s mind.  Twisting, organic shapes and an awful sense of purpose would have pushed this mortal to the edge of consciousness.

Next, the image of a child-goddess would have been featured.  Avia, Lady of Magic, Binder of Chaos, The Chaos-Child.  Her grave, multi-hued eyes would have a gravity and sadness that would have stunned those who have heard the stories about her.  A sense of helplessness would have drove this hypothetical mortal to his knees as images of wizards march down a deep, dark, winding tunnel filled with grasping tentacles.

Next would be images of a group of humans and half-elves; raw and untested.  A sense of questions being raised and dismissed fills the council chamber for several minutes.  The potential of these mortals, viewed through the eyes of the attendees, is obviously high.  However potential is not actuality.  That requires tests and time.  A sense of immediacy fills the air.

Interference is the next suggestion but immediately dismissed.  The law is clear and interference is forbidden regardless of the actions of others.

But…

Blessings are permitted.  Nothing direct, but small touches are allowed, driven by the strength and potential of the chosen.

Consensus and a decision are reached.  The mortals will have the blessings of the attendees, driven by the strength of the mortals potential.  Where most mortals would require time to assimilate their lessons, that requirement is waived for as long as the mortals strive.  Next, for those that die, and some certainly will, a decision to relax the restriction of death is made.  Sacrifice willing, these mortals will be allowed back to the realms of the living if they so choose.  

The other side would see of course and provide their own counter blessing as allowed by the rules – but that would be for later.

The council was adjourned only minutes after its inception.  Five devas flew upward, rising like stars, on a mission to bestow the great blessings given into their care._
___________________________________________

It was about this time I started thinking about implementing training rules and how raise dead and resurrection would fit into my game.  After this is all over I’m going to implement training rules, but decided it didn’t fit the current feel of the game.  It was already going to take a long time to complete and there was a sense of immediacy that might be lost if the characters had to take successively longer breaks to level up.

As for the various ‘Raise’ spells, I had decided early on to introduce two caveats.  First, a priest would do a Commune first to verify that it was all right to perform the Raise Dead spell (Resurrections are almost unheard of).  Secondly, in favor of some sort of imposed balance, for every good guy that gets a second chance, the forces of evil get to bring back an equivalent strength bad guy (and vice-versa).  At one point I had also decided that only priests of Moran, Niela, and Vieta would be able to cast Raise Dead – but decided later on for the sake of convenience and the story to relax that a bit.   

The above is how I explained it all in my head.


----------



## Seravin

*Rafting on the Churnett*

*A few days past Midsummer – a little over a month since the group met*
It was raining.  That’s all it had been doing for the last three days since the flat-bottom river barge had left Milbourne.  Captain Peresten looked at the skies and cursed yet again while he pulled his cloak tighter about him.  Hard to believe it was only a week since mid-summer.  It was cooler than usual and the small, cold droplets of rain didn’t help.  Still and all the trip was quieter than the rumors suggested he had any right to expect and even if trouble did show, the new guards he hired had quite a reputation.  _Orcs?_ He thought.  _Let them try._ 

No, the only thing he had to worry about on this trip was the higher than usual river.  The Churnett was rougher than usual, almost like Dyanna herself was mad.  It had slowed their progress a bit as he was being careful.  They’d be at Parlfray Keep by tomorrow night though.

_Later_
Ashimar and Beren had guard duty.  Beren was one of the captain’s permanent boat handlers; a likeable fellow in most ways to Ashimar’s way of thinking.  Meaning that while on the job, Beren knew how to be quiet.  The captain had decided to camp a little early this evening, next to a small copse of trees that would provide shelter if the rain came back.

The two of them were standing a bit away from the sleepers, just casually walking around in order to keep awake.  Neither of them was really expecting any trouble.  Sure, there had been bandit activity south of here a couple years ago, even rumors of werebeasts, but the guard post stationed at Widdenbred Dale had put those menaces down.  Sure, the cargo was obviously valuable (weapons and armor – Ashimar had checked), but it wasn’t the sort of cargo that was easy to carry away or easy to fence.

So neither one of the two men was expecting trouble.  Which made it especially impressive when Ashimar heard the noise.  It was really just a faint rustling of the leaves followed by a bit of silence.  Ashimar had really good ears.

Unfortunately he and Beren were just a little slow in moving and several arrows came shooting out of the darkness at him and his fellow guard.  “Bandits!”  Yelled Ashimar.  “Wake up!”  He urged as he drew his rapier.  In the darkness he could hear men approaching.  Seconds later two men charged out of the woods straight for the two guardsmen.  Ashimar and Beren met the attack head on and the battle was joined.

Kellron was quickly up, followed by Kestral, Panther, Jallarzi, and the other three boatmen.  Kellron quickly gathered up his shield and sword and joined Ashimar in the fight.  Kestral drew her bow but in the darkness she couldn’t see much; unlike the bandits who seemed unimpaired by the darkness.  Panther and Jallarzi were able to help out by laying down light spells.

The fighting was furious, made more-so when the hidden bowmen emerged from the woods to take up arms against the group.  Upon seeing them, Jallarzi hit the newcomers with a sleep spell, downing about half of them with a magical slumber.

Then the voice came from the other side of the camp; an invocation to the darkness to steal away the slumber and the men awoke.  Jallarzi cursed and began looking for the new threat.  She wasn’t able to find him though until the newcomer invoked his second prayer, freezing Ashimar in place.  The new threat was a man of medium build with a ragged black cloak with his hood pulled low.  He was wearing fine chainmail and in his off-hand was carrying a large flail.

Fortunately for the travelers, the tide of battle had started to turn in their favor.  Already the first two bandits had been laid low.  Kestral had been forced to drop her bow and draw her sword in order to defend Jallarzi, but she was doing moderately well, her slight strength not withstanding.

Kellron downed the bandit he was fighting and charged the newcomer.  The newcomer smiled lazily and readied his weapon.  “I’ll dedicate your soul to Tresh!”  Threatened the dark haired man.

Kellron’s eyes narrowed at the name of the Dark Tyrant.  With a yell he channeled all his might into his next blow.  “Sarath!”  The blow connected and drove the man back, but he gamely stepped forward and swung also.

Meanwhile Kestral, Panther, Jallarzi, and the boatsmen were holding their own.  Two of Captain Peresten’s men were down, including Beren; but Kestral and Jallarzi were able to drop another bandit, leaving two left.  Panther was tending to the fallen boatsmen.

The newcomer was no fool.  He might take the Sarathian fool in front of him; but then, he might not.  There was always another day and he had their measure now.  “Tevel.”  It was a nonsense word, bearing no meaning that he was ever able to determine.  No meaning except it caused his cloak to write and split, forming great bat wings.  “Next time, fool.”  He promised Kellron, leaping into the air and flying southwards.

As the Treshan flew away, he passed the still frozen Ashimar’s line of sight.  The young man’s keen eyesight easily spotted the eyepatch the hooded man was wearing.

The two remaining bandits seeing their boss flee tried to emulate him.  They made it about fifteen feet before Jallarzi’s next spell dropped the both of them.

_A search of the bodies didn’t reveal anything other than some empty flasks, some coins, and the arms and armor the bandits bore.  Although one of them had a well-crafted bow that Jallarzi confirmed as magical.

As for the two prisoners they had captured, neither one cared to talk.  Even when threatened with the hanging they would almost certainly receive when turned over to the authorities in Thurmaster.  Their loyalty and reticence was unusual and both bore a faint fishy smell that was more in place of a seaside dock than out in the middle of the woods.

For his part, Captain Peresten was well pleased of the protection he had bought.  It would have been very grim if these strangers hadn’t been around to help.  He probably wouldn’t have felt that way if he had known that the attack was entirely because of those strangers.  Just as well, really.

The next morning it only took a few hours to get going again and make it to the banks of the river next to Thurmaster.  While Kellron and Panther helped unload the barge, Ashimar escorted Jallarzi and Kestral to go see Tauster again.  It had been a unanimous, if unvoiced, decision to make sure that Jallarzi was never left alone again.

Tauster was pleased to see the white-haired sorceress again and was pleased with her progress when he quizzed her about various sections on the book.  When told of their recent adventures at the Library in Blasingdale however he grew quiet, and to Kestral he seemed fearful even.

Still, the old mage brushed it off quickly enough and was quite interested in the ring they had bargained from the goblins.  It was likely he could have kept them there all day talking about it, but the three had to move on to catch up with the wagon train.  Tauster bid them farewell and promised to have some more information the next afternoon. _


----------



## Seravin

*Here's a thought*

I was thinking while I was preparing the next post.  I try not to do that very often, but there you go.

One of the things I wanted to do with this story hour was to provide information to other DM's who might be running the Night Below adventure.
However my posting has slowed down to about once a week and I'm getting maybe one-half to a full session between each post depending on what happened.  As I free up more time I hope to increase the speed of my posting and the length of the posts; but until then...

So, are there any DM's running a Night Below game reading this story hour?  If so, would any of you find it useful to have access to my campaign notes?  After a year of play the group is almost through the end of the second book and I have hopes that they'll finish it by the end of June if all goes well.  I know I would have found something like this useful about eight months ago.


----------



## Seravin

Just a quick update on some things I forgot to mention in the last couple posts.
By this point Jallarzi now has her familiar.  A black cat that she picked up in Milbourne before they took the barge captain up on his offer.  She named her cat Sarah and the two have done quite well together.  Sadly, Sarah doesn’t get a lot of screen time as I generally forget about her.

Of the two prisoners that had been taken, they both lost their memories by morning.  They claimed their innoncence of whatever they had been held for, but no one believed them.  The two were turned over to Squire Marlen in Thurmaster when they arrived.

The Keep
_Parlfray Keep stands atop a low hill at the foot of the Halfcut Hills, some ten miles north-east of the village of Thurmaster.  It was from this keep that Count Sandior Parlfray collected the taxes from the villages of Haranshire (being Haralton, Milbourne, and Thurmaster), oversaw any appeals of his magistrate’s verdicts of high justice, and made sure that the rules of his Duke and his Emperor were adhered to.  The Count was also responsible for gathering a force of arms if his Duke should require it and providing protection for his lands as necessary; though the size of his current force in recent years was minimal since things had been quiet for almost forty years now.

Parlfray Keep was reasonably large for the size of the communities that it watched over.  The income from the mines, the fishing from The Eelhold, and the merchant traffic between Blasingdale and Corlean all proved to be profitable endeavors and the size of the keep reflected the available monies.

Count Sandior Parlfray himself resembled his family keep in that he had been around for quite some time, was as stubborn as the hills the keep was built in, and he showed his age well.  A pleasant, if stubborn man of seventy-one years, Count Sandior had outlived three wives and two concubines.  The last woman had been Rizelda Astan, a lesser daughter of the Astan merchant house.  Her family had arranged the marriage between Rizelda (all of eighteen at the time) and the fifty three year old Count.  Much to everyone’s surprise she bore the aging Count an heir, dying as she did so.

Count Parlfray named the boy Lyntern, after his wife’s favorite uncle; which he knew to be her dying wish.  Then not knowing what to do with a squalling baby, promptly turned the boy over to a wet-nurse and then a succession of tutors.  Lyntern grew up knowing that he was to be his father’s successor and the old Count made sure that Lyntern knew the arts of war and leadership.  Only twenty years prior to Lyntern’s birth, Sandior Parlfray had led mercenaries hired by his aging father to repel the lizard-folk raiders of Shrieken Mire from the walls of Thurmaster.  Now eighteen years old himself, Lyntern knows his duty to his father, to his title, and to his duke.  Like all young men his age though, Lyntern is certain there is something more to life then all he has been given._

The road from Thurmaster to Parlfray Keep was well maintained and the little caravan made good time; still it was just after sundown when the merchant caravan finally made it to the gates of the old keep.  The guards at the gatehouse were alert and ready with torches when the caravan finally arrived on their doorstep and quickly set about verifying the cargo.  Once business was concluded the members of the caravan were invited to the Count’s table, which was just being set.  The unexpected invitation was gratefully accepted of course.

Count Parlfray provided a good table for guests, even unexpected ones.  The meal was a pleasant affair and if anyone had any unease at sitting at the Count’s table they did not show it.  For his part, Count Parlfray made pleasant conversation with Captain Peresten for the first part of the meal.  He was understandably concerned when the Captain mentioned the bandit raid the night before; a raid which included the use of magic.

Before the Count could respond to the news, Captain Peresten continued on with his story of the bravery and skill of his new guards.  These guards were the ones responsible for finding and dealing with the strange blue goblins of New Mire and had even performed jobs for the Library of Blasingdale.  “It was a tough fight.”  Admitted the captain.  “I spent most of it wondering if I was going to die.  But these mercenaries were worth every cent and were the only reason I was able to deliver your goods to you, your lordship.”

Count Parlfray considered the captain’s words with the stories he had already heard.  Lord Carman had already made one report on the goblins of course and Squire Marlen of Thurmaster had remarked on some couriers or another who had made a delivery to Tauster.  “Well then.”  The old Count said, his black eyes sparkling from the light of the torches.  “It seems we owe you a thank you for seeing that the Captain’s cargo arrived safely.”  He shook his head.  “You’ll have to watch out for all that foolish madcap gallivanting.  Trust me, it will lead to no good.  We can always use more guards though.  A good solid profession it is; and regular pay too.  Stick with Captain Peresten and you’ll find yourselves in good hands.”  He took another sip from his wine glass and set it down, looking at Kellron and Ashimar.  “The good captain said something about the Library?  Why don’t you tell us all about it.”

The night passed thusly with Ashimar and Kellron relating their exploits from the last month.  The Count was most interested in the first hand reports of these new goblins on his lands and in their estimation of these new bandits.  The flying one concerned him, but he was gratified that three of the bandits had been captured and turned over to his squire in Thurmaster.  He was less impressed with their tales of the Library though he was polite enough about it.  

Eventually after three hours of tales, the good Count excused himself after wishing everyone a good night.  “But stay.”  He bid.  “No need to cut short your meal because an old man needs his sleep.”  He then turned to his son who had listened to the conversations avidly.  “You know your duty son.  Keep them company until it’s time to bid their leave.”

Lyntern nodded as everyone stood as the old Count took his leave.

An hour later only Lyntern, Kestral, and Ashimar remained at the table; enjoying a fairly decent wine.  To anyone who knew the young noble, he was obviously smitten by the petite young woman.  For her part Kestral was oblivious of the attention.  Instead she found it cute that the young man (only a year younger then herself) was so taken with their adventures.

“You know.”  He said conspiratorially to the two companions.  “You seem like a brave bunch of mercenaries.  We might be able to help each other.”

Kestral and Ashimar smiled at each other.  The boy was positively transparent.  “How so?”  Asked Kestral sweetly.

Lyntern leaned in closer to Kestral, gratified by the attention.  “I know of some ruins in the Thornwood where those bandits who attacked you might be hiding.”  

This got Kestral’s and Ashimar’s attention.  “Go on.” Said Ashimar.

“I’d be willing to take you to it.”  The boy said.

Ashimar almost nodded, expecting the answer.  “It would be dangerous.”  He noted.  “Why don’t you just tell us where it is?”

Lyntern’s face clouded.  “I don’t want to stay here all my life.”  He declared.  “I need some experience outside these walls.”  He declaimed throwing his hands wide to encompass the hall.  “Let me just journey with you folks for a bit.”  A sudden thought came to him.  “If you let me go with you I can take you to a treasure horde.”

Kestral and Ashimar looked at each other again. Neither was really opposed to the young man going, but there were going to be some obvious complications.  “What kind of treasure?”  Asked Kestral.

“An ancestor of mine fought some bandits.  Treshans really, about two hundred years ago.  I know where the site of the battle was and I know that the old Count was never able to recover the bodies of the fallen.  They were carrying armor enchanted by the Imperial Wizards of the time.  It’s probably still good.”

Again Kestral and Ashimar looked at each other and a decision was reached.  Ashimar answered for them both.  “If you want to adventure that badly you can come with us.”  He looked around the hall.  “We’ll have to get you out of here without your father noticing though.”

The three planned for another hour before they broke for their beds.  In the end they decided that Lyntern would stay at the keep until after the group had left.  He would then wait five days and then ride to Milbourne where Kestral and Ashimar would be waiting for him.  From there they would decide what to do.  Either go visit the battle site in Hardlow Woods or continue on to these ruins in the Thornwood.  Thus decided they went to their respective beds.


----------



## Seravin

*On the matter of Gods*

_On the matters of the gods there are many that are known and respected throughout the Shtaran Empire.  First and foremost of course is Latina, patroness of the Empire itself.  Next would be Sarath, her general, and then Moran (the Lord of the Afterlife), Niela (Lady of Life), Vieta (Soul Taker), Jola (Lady Love), and Fon (Lord of Revelry).  There are others of course, but these would be the ones that would immediately come to mind.  What stands out about these gods is that they are all dedicated to the welfare of the people of the empire. 

There are other gods that are not so kind to the Empire or her peoples.  First and foremost is Tresh, the Dark Tyrant.  He leads his siblings in constant war against the Gods of the Empire.  It is the doctrine of his priests that the imperial family is weak and unfit to rule.  Only the Dark Tyrant has the strength to expand the Empire to all lands and drive off the weak parasites that currently claim rule.  Naturally the worship of Tresh is banned within Imperial lands._


----------



## Seravin

*Busted*

The next morning the Count’s visitors took their leave of Parlfray Keep and made the journey back to Thurmaster.  The trip was uneventful and passed quickly, with the group reaching the sleepy little hamlet just after highsun.  Once back in Thurmaster the five companions bid goodbye to Captain Peresten and his crew.  The good captain was sorry to see them go, but he consoled himself that he was saving on the expenses.

After arranging for rooms at the Hounds and Tails the five companions went to see Tauster.  Unfortunately they found a note on his door explaining he was busy and that anyone who disturbed him had better have a good reason.  Looking at each the five made a collective shrug and made their way back to what passed for an inn.  None of them enjoyed the prospect of staying at the Hounds and Tails for the night.  Jallarzi lightened the mood considerably when she showcased one of her new spells and magically cleaned and de-ticked their rooms and bedding.  It wasn’t a powerful spell but she earned everyone’s appreciation that night.

Later that afternoon, close to sunset, they paid another visit to Tauster’s cottage and found that he was now available.  He looked tired but greeted them with a mixture of awe and pleasure.  His news was good.

“The bow from the bandits and the ring are both magical.”  He affirmed.  “The bow’s enchantment is minor but useful.  The ring however…”  He trailed off for a moment.  “The ring is of a power I have seen only a few times before.”  The old man held up the small platinum band.  “The wave pattern is obviously a reference of water so that is where I started.  A basic divination revealed three facts.  The first is that the ring will allow someone to stand over water; walk on the stuff really.”  Tauster shrugged.  “A useful ability but it highlights the second fact which is that there was obviously more to the ring as the spell is only moderately difficult.  The final fact revealed by the spell is that the ring is fractured.  Tauster turned the ring so the inside of the band was displayed a bit more prominently.  “Here.”  He pointed.  “A hairline crack has developed here that circumnavigates half the ring.”  He shook his head.  “I’m not sure what caused it, but based on the power of the ring itself it’s almost certainly the cause of New Mire; a small leak from the Plane of Water.”  Tauster smiled reassuringly then.  “However it’s obviously a slow leak and shouldn’t cause any short term problems.  Just don’t move here.”  The old mage laughed at his little joke.  “At any rate I was interested enough to dip into some more magics and was able to confirm what I just told you.”

Naturally this interested everyone greatly.  They were even more interested to learn that the ring had potentially even greater power over all things of water, but the crack rendered those powers unusable.  The gray-haired mage agreed to write a letter to Lord Carmen certifying what he had just told them.  Kestral accepts the ring back from Tauster and with the quiet assent of her friends, puts it on.

Later as they bid themselves good night, Kestral stays behind and chats with the old man for a little while longer.  She ends up making a friend of the old mage and discovers that he has settled in Thurmaster due to some conflict with an important person at the Library.  Tauster is mostly philosophical about it now, saying he’s happier outside the politics; but Kestral detects just a hint of fear when he speaks of his falling out.  It’s a late night but eventually she leaves the man in peace and finds her bed at the Hounds and Tail.

The next morning the five companions begin their journey back to Milbourne, stopping overnight at Kupier’s farm again.  The former Imperial Scout is glad to see them again and the group enjoys yet another pleasant night before moving on to Milbourne the next morning.

Once in Milbourne they promptly head to Lord Carmen’s house and present Tauster’s letter.  The aging landowner looks at the letter with some suspicion but Tauster’s reputation is good in the shire and so Lord Carmen opens his coffers and carefully counts out a measured number of coins and jewels.  That night there is some celebration at the Baron of Mutton.

The next day and a half followed pretty quietly.  The group restocked supplies at Rastifer’s General Store (though for some reason they passed up the pickled eel rations) and spent the first morning planning on what they should do next.  It was a toss-up between going back to the abandoned mine where the ogre was taking up habitation or in exploring the Thornwood where the flying bandit had escaped.   Eventually they decided on the mines, but Ashimar and Kestral insisted on waiting for something just outside of town the next morning.  Kellron was the only one of them unaware that Lyntern was due to meet them.  Suspicious, he agreed, deciding to take a wait and see approach.

When the morning came, gray and overcast, the five friends left the sleepy little town of Milbourne and made their way to a small glade about a mile east of town.  There they waited.

And waited.

By sundown it was clear that Lyntern wasn’t coming.  Ashimar and Kestral looked at Kellron.

“We have to tell you something.”  They said, almost in unison.

“Sarath.”  Swore the Paladin.  “What have you two done now?”


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## Seravin

*Sorry, but not an update.*
The games are heating up and I'm spending more time prepping then writing.  Hopefully I'll have an update by Tuesday though.

In the meantime may I suggest from Sepulchrave II:
Lady Despina's Virtue 
Lady Despina's Virtue pt. II 
The Heretic of Wyre 
The Heretic of Wyre Part II 
The Rape of Morne 
The Rape of Morne Part II 
Soneillon 

or from Piratecat
Piratecat's Updated Story Hour! 

or from Destan
Sins of Our Fathers 

These would be my top three favorite story hour writers.  You should enjoy them if you hadn't already come across them.


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## Seravin

Just a short update, but I'm working on the next one.  
__________________________________________

_*Back at the Keep*_
The five friends stood straight and tall in Parlfray Keep. Before them, in his family’s ancestral seat sat the lord of Parlfray Keep, Count Sandior Parlfray.  The white haired, seventy year old aristocrat did not look happy.  Next to the aging count stood another man dressed in the black robes of a priest of Latina.  The priest was younger than the Count, perhaps only fifty years or so.  The priest seemed faintly amused by the proceedings though he kept his features admirably blank.

A dozen more serious, stern-faced guards filled the hall behind the party.  No one was willing to bet whether or not the guards had orders to kill them.  Off to the side stood the dark haired Lyntern, somehow managing to look both sorrowful and somber at the same time.

The heir to the County of Haranshire, Lyntern Parlfray, had been caught leading his fully packed horse out of the stables and to the front gate.  The captain of the guards happened to have been doing a surprise inspection just as Lyntern approached the front gate.  The captain’s keen eyes quickly noted Lyntern’s camping and hunting gear and he had stopped the young lord with a few words.  It might have ended there (or not, given the follies of youth), but Lyntern’s father had chosen that moment to make his rounds of the keep at the same time.  Though old, the Count’s eyes were fully as keen as his guard-captain’s.  The eighteen-year-old Lyntern found himself grounded right there and threatened with confinement to his quarters if he so much as came near the gates again.

Fortunately for everyone involved, Lafayer, Priest of Latina had been visiting the keep at the time.  The elderly cleric held a position that he quite liked, that of a wandering priest.  It was Lafayer’s duty to wander between the various villages that were too small to have a temple of Latina.  It was his duty and pleasure to be both friend and confessor to all of those in Haranshire who could not make it to the church in Milbourne.  Though young enough to the Count’s son, Lafayer and the Count counted each other as friends.

Lafayer had calmed to the Count to the point of not taking action against Lyntern’s tempters.  And when it had become apparent that a small group of pilgrims from Corlean were overdue, it was Lafayer who had convinced the Count to use the ‘adventurers’ in finding them.  Whatever else their faults they were certainly capable.  

Thus it was that on their journey back to check on Lyntern, the five companions stopped at Kupier’s farm as usual and discovered that Kestral’s and Ashimar’s plans had been discovered.  Further the Count wished to talk to them about a band of missing pilgrims.  Apparently the party had passed the messenger somewhere on the road.

Now the five companions were in the Count’s grand hall.  Satisfied that he had their attention, Count Parlfray began speaking.  “Lyntern is the sole heir to the Parlfray title and estates.”  Despite his age and his anger, the old Count spoke with cold clarity.  “Through him our family line will continue to watch over the lands of Haranshire as given to us by Imperial right.”  The Count looked at his son.  “Someday soon I hope that he will be married to some suitable girl and produce his own heirs.”  A sardonic smile crossed the old man’s face.  “Hopefully he’ll be able to achieve that faster than I did.”  Thunderclouds appeared in the Count’s eyes and his smile disappeared.  “That will not happen however if he is going on some foolish, madcap gallivanting!”  He roared.  “What were you thinking?  He could have been killed or kidnapped by those bandits of yours.”

Kestral took a small breath and stepped forward.  “It was good for him.”  She started, using the same clear tones the old man had used.  “He’s not going to learn much by staying cooped up in this keep.”  The blond haired, blue-eyed young woman spoke with confidence and without a trace of fear as she faced the aging noble.  “Experience is the best teacher, and Lyntern will gain the respect of the people faster if he actually has some.”

It was a good argument, delivered with true sincerity.  Unfortunately the Count wasn’t in a mood to listen to such arguments.  Perhaps it was because Kestral was a woman who hadn’t quite seen her second decade.  Perhaps it was because he was being stubborn.  “I don’t care what you happen to believe, young lady.  It’s dangerous out there and it’s no place for my sole heir to be wandering about by himself.”

Kestral readied herself for another verbal salvo, but Kellron touched her hand lightly and she stepped back.  Kellron bowed to the Count as due his rank and took up the argument.  “Kestral is right, my lord.”  Pressed the young, dark-haired warrior.  “I’m sure Lyntern has been provided the best of everything, but it’s no substitute for actual learning.  The rights of leadership include the duty to protect.”  It was an old maxim, built into the very founding of the Shtaran Empire.  Kellron continued speaking.  “I had no knowledge of my friends conspiracy with Lyntern, but I stand by their intent that it was a good thing.  Warriors are not made in keeps.  They’re made in the defense of the keep.”

The old Count’s mouth quirked a bit, as if suppressing a small smile, and he gave a small ‘harumph’ as he settled himself back into his throne.  “Be that as it may, it was a damn foolish thing to do.”  Though still gruff, the Count’s tone was less accusing.  Perhaps it was his natural charisma or maybe his archaic mannerisms, but the young champion of Sarath had made his point.

For his part Kellron only nodded in agreement with the Count’s assessment and let the noble continue to speak.

“Fortunately for all of you we have need of your services.”  The Count looked at each of them in turn.  “Every year a band of pilgrims make their way from Corlean through Haranshire and on to The Silver Forest.  I don’t pretend to understand all the religious significance and it doesn’t matter.  Three days ago the advance rider from Corlean arrived to inform us the pilgrims had started.  They should have been here two days ago.”  The Count’s eyes narrowed and his frown was for an entirely different reason.  “It’s only a two day ride from Corlean to my keep, across a very nearly empty moor.  I’ve sent a few of my guards to check up but they haven’t come back.  Instead of sending more of my men I’m therefore sending you out to the moors to find out what happened to the Pilgrims and my guards.”  The Count smiled grimly.  “In return for your act of charity I’ll pay each of you five gold lions for each day on the road.”  It was a princely sum, but the Count was obviously brooking no argument and just as obviously he wanted answers.

Ashimar spoke up next, stepping forward and bowing low before the Count.  “You should let Lyntern come with us Sir.”  The young street-rogue spoke plainly but with all the respect he could muster.  It took no seer to predict the Count’s reaction.

“What!”  The Count didn’t shout, but only because of the disbelief in his voice.  “You want me to send my only heir out traipsing around the very moors that have claimed an entire caravan as well as my own guards?”

Kellron nodded.  “It’s a good idea my lord.”

Kestral threw out her opinion also.  “It would be good for him my lord.  Whatever happened to the pilgrims is probably long gone by now.  We’re just going to find out what happened.”

The count was clearly unwilling to let his only son go with the adventurers, but they pressed hard.  In the end, with both Kestral’s quick wit and Kellron’s perseverance, the five companions convinced the old Count to let Lyntern go with them.  In return they had to swear an oath to put Lyntern’s safety before their own.  All five willingly made the oath in front of the old priest Lafayer.


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## Seravin

*Out on the Moors*

Howlers Moor got its name some three hundred odd years ago, after a large, cursed wolf-beast that claimed the entire land from the mountains to the north to the Half-Cut hills to the south.  The beast’s size is of some debate, but most stories agree it was the size of small pony and had the madness and bloodlust to match its size.

It took the combined efforts of the Imperial Army, Scouts, and Wizards to track the beast down and slay it, but eventually the beast was slain.  Not all stories end with the death of the beast though – or a peaceful death for that matter.  Predictably some storytellers say that the Imperial Army only killed one of the cubs and that the mother of the beasts even now lays in wait in the mountains, raising more cubs before she and her spawn take their revenge on the civilized lands.  Other bards claim the beast was killed, but Ruma, the Beast Lord, twisted this one too well.  Its body dead, the spirit of the wolf-beast now stalks the moor it once laid claim to, helpless except on certain nights…

Regardless of the stories little grew on the plains proper except grasses and the odd copse of scrub trees; though in places one could find sweet smelling heather.  Useless for most everything else some of the folk of Haranshire used the moor to let their animals graze.  Fortunately for the city of Corlean, the moor eventually gave way to better farmland closer to her walls.

It was into this unfriendly plain that the five companions rode with their newest charge, Lyntern.  Like a minstrel’s story the entire first day was overcast and chill, almost as if to drive home that the group was not wanted on the plain.  Undeterred, the group took their time traveling up the road to Corlean, making sure to make wide swathes back and forth across the road in case there were any clues left behind.

By the time the group camped for the night the threat of the clouds turned into a light, cold drizzle, making them all uncomfortable.  Kellron, taking charge, had Lyntern help set up the camp on the assumption that hard work built character.  Ashimar whole-heartedly joined in with suggestion of work that Lyntern could also perform.  The young nobleman bore it with stoic good grace.  For the first time in his life, Lyntern was out on his own without his father’s hired guards or an entourage of any sort.  The young aristocrat wasn’t going to blow it.  Eventually the rain quit with an almost sullen slowness as Kellron cooked the evening meal.

Later after the meal was eaten and Lyntern was done cleaning the pot, they made their plans and told Lyntern more of their tales.  Lyntern paid attention to every word, especially those of Kestral.  She was only a year or two older than him, but her quick wit and easy way with words had a greater effect on the noble than being hit with a bale of hay.  Half-remembered stories of nobles taking commoner brides flitted across Lyntern’s mind, but he kept them to himself.  If Kestral was aware of her effect she did not mention it, treating him like a favored younger brother more than anything else.

Eventually they decided on watches.  Unexpectedly, Ashimar offered to take the mid-watch with Lyntern, “To give him more experience on adventuring.”  Normally the middle watch was Panther’s as his elven mother had blessed him far better night-sight then humans normally possessed.

Fortunately for all the night was uneventful, though off in the distance the howling of wolves could be heard every so often.
…

Morning came seemingly far earlier then it had any right to.  Fortunately Panther held the last watch and had a small breakfast prepared as his friends woke up.  It was a simple affair of toasted bread and cheese and some dried meat, but it was better than nothing.  Lyntern, sore from yesterday’s exertions was glad to hear that the white-haired half-elven sorceress needed time to study her books before they ventured out.  Muscles ached in the young noble’s body.  Seeing the man’s soreness, Kellron had Lyntern spar with him to help loosen him up.

After Jallarzi was done studying and the small camp put away, they started their search anew.  They didn’t have far to travel.

Perhaps only an hour on the trail their attention was directed to the north by a faint howling sound, closer than the wolves from the night before.  Grimly the six travelers looked at each other proceeded northward along the road; loosening the straps on their weapons as they did so.

Over the next hour of riding they heard the howling twice more and each time the chilling cry was closer than before.  The horses were reluctant to continue after each howl, but the riders pushed them on.  Eventually Ashimar’s keen eyes spotted something strange on the horizon in the morning light, a wagon.  “Over there.”  Indicated Ashimar.  At the same time another howl pierced the air, a much closer howl.  

“Get your bows ready.”  Said Kellron and Ashimar virtually at the same time.  Kestral and Lyntern cocked their crossbows while Ashimar, Kellron, and Panther strung their bows.  Jallarzi watched them impassively as she flexed her fingers and loosened her wrists up.  Prepared, they kicked their horses forward.

A battle had been fought; they could see that in the wreckage of the wagon as they approached.  One of the wheels of the wagon had been shattered and one of the side panels had been burned all the way through by something big.  Food and clothing lay scattered and trampled about the ground.  Whoever had attacked had no interest in what the pilgrims had been carrying.

There was a groan from behind the wagon, so faint that only Ashimar and Panther heard it.  Ashimar, Lyntern, and Kestral went around the left side while Kellron, Jallarzi, and Panther took the right.  Around the far side could be seen two bodies.  One had been savagely hacked apart by some sword blade.  The other had an equal number of wounds, but they were bandaged – sort of.  The man groaned again and coughed weakly.

Ashimar was the first to dismount and quickly went to the man’s aid.  The reek of festering wounds filled the air.  The man, dressed in the garb of a fighter in Latina’s service, woke at his touch.  “…pilgrims…taken…the red-headed man!…his eyes…they were alive, I swear…”.  The burst of energy to speak seemed to drain the man of his life and he fell unconscious.  By the time Kellron could get to him and utter a healing prayer it was too late, the guard was dead.

Looking around, Kellron stood up.  “Lets get these bodies back to the Count.  We can give them a proper burial at least.”  Notably there were no bodies of the pilgrims, only the two guards.

Solemnly the rest dismounted and they gathered up the two bodies, intending to wrap them in their cloaks.  They were interrupted again by another howl, this time less than a hundred feet away.  Approaching from the north was a pack of two-headed dogs, slavering and snarling and snapping at the air.  The coats of the beasts were a dull black, like coal and they were all the size of large mastiffs.

“Damnit!”  Swore Kellron as he snatched for his bow.  The others did likewise.  Except for Jallarzi.  Coolly she measured the distance between her and the beasts and calmly put the wagon between her and the dogs.  Reaching into her component pouch she invoked a spell of sleep, managing to group five of the dogs – more than half the pack.  Four of the beasts fell to her arcane spell as Kellron, Panther, Ashimar, Kestral, and Lyntern shot at the dogs.  Another beast fell and the group reloaded as the remaining three dogs picked up their speed to charge.  Jallarzi fired off another sleep spell dropping two more and Kellron drew his own sword and charged the remaining beast.  He received a nasty bite and a part of his brain noted that the spittle of the beast was foaming.  Undeterred, the champion of Sarath struck home against the beast and killed it.

There wasn’t much to do after that but to slay the sleeping beasts and then figure out how to get the slain bodies of the guards back to Parlfray Keep.  Eventually they rigged up a travois for each body that would be dragged by their horses.  Kellron invoked Sarath’s aid to heal his wound and was rewarded with the blessing of health.  They all avoided the bodies of the dogs after making sure each one was dead.

On the ride back to the keep they discussed the day’s happenings.  There was some evidence of tracks heading south-west from the wagon across the moor, but none of them were Imperial Scouts.  

“They could be part of the bandits that attacked us on the river.”  Note Ashimar.  They headed south too.  “They could be working with the orcs who attacked us there.”

Kellron and Jallarzi nodded.  “We could head to the Thornwood then.  But where in the wood?  It’s a large tract of land.”  Noted Kellron.

“I might have an idea.”  Said Lyntern a little hesitantly.  He was about to reveal a family secret, something he was sure his father wouldn’t approve of, but the bodies of the slain guards had sobered him quickly to the danger the pilgrims were in.  “My family had a keep in the Thornwood until the time of my great-grandfather.”  Lyntern looked away across the moor.  “Something bad happened there.  My ancestor had been away with his family, visiting relatives.  When they came back they found everyone in the keep dead, strewn about like a bunch of broken dolls.  The Count of the time declared the place cursed and moved everyone to a family lodge in the hills and built the new family keep there.”  He looked back at his new companions.  “Great-Grandfather got tired of hearing all the rumors and eventually made it illegal to ever talk about the keep.”  He shrugged.  “I’m new at this, but if I was taking people into the Thornwood that’s were I would take them.”

The others absorbed this new information with glee.  At last they had a lead.  Unfortunately Lyntern had never been to the keep himself.  He had seen maps of where it use to stand though.

By the time the party reached Parlfray Keep (a little after nightfall), they had their plan.  Now they just had to convince the Count.

“You want to bring my son where?”  Shouted the incredulous old Count.  “There’s bandits and orcs in those woods!  This isn’t a simple scouting trip in open country.”  The group had wasted no time in reporting what they had learned and suspected to Count Parlfray.  They had then offered to set off in the morning and go directly to old keep.  The count had seemed a little put out that Lyntern had given away a family secret so freely, but common sense had prevailed.  What had not prevailed was the suggestion that Lyntern continue to accompany the five friends into the Thornwood itself.  “Absolutely not!  It’s out of the question.”

Somehow they did convince the old man though.  Kellron and Ashimar and Panther continued to harp on the duties of the nobility and the value of experience while Kestral wove a net of verbal arguments so tight that a Law Speaker would have had problems unraveling.*

In the end after a very late night, Count Parlfray agreed to let his son accompany the five adventurers.  In return they had to extend their oath to protect Lyntern with their lives and to present back at Parlfray Keep in seven days.

Wearily they all went to an early bed with some more satisfied than others.  It was going to be an early morning for all of them.


_*Did you ever notice how players can pull a 20 out of a hat when it comes right down to it. In the first instance of trying to convince the Count of their sincerity and good intentions, Kestral’s player rolled pretty poorly – like a 2 or 3.  Kellron’s player turns around and takes his turn at bat and rolls like a 18 or so – enough to turn old Count friendly and amenable to the idea of his son going into reasonably non-hostile territory.
On their second meeting Kestral rolled a flat 20 against the Count who was now indifferent to her.  She’s about 3rd level at this point with a +10 to her diplomacy roll.  Kellron and Panther made their assist checks on that one too.  I still made them work for it though. 

On the other hand Kestral tends to use diplomacy the way others use their weapons.  I guess the 20’s stick out more because of that._


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## Seravin

*Some Ad-Hoc Rules*

I’m still putting together the next installment, but I needed a break and wanted to post tonight….

One of the fun things about being the DM is coming up with on the spot rules and providing interpretations.  I like coming up with the answers; I don’t always get it right the first time but the fun is in the trying.   

Kestral’s and Panther's players with their focus on the social skills have provided more opportunity than most for this kind of fun; notably in the areas of Diplomacy and Gather Information.

By this point in the game the party is about 3rd level and closing on 4th and I was just beginning to see what happened when a character began maxing the interactive skills; but only an inkling.  

It would take a few more levels and a big city adventure before I came up with some house rules and guidelines to deal with some situations that came up; posted here for your use.

1) *Diplomacy:*  A fairly broad and open-ended skill that can lead to some silliness.  Guidelines I adopted include:

a. Diplomacy requires at least 1 minute of interaction before it can be rolled.  

b. Diplomacy cannot be used when the target is about to attack.  (see below)

c. Diplomacy can only be used once to set the initial attitude of the target versus the character.  

d. However the target’s attitude is how receptive the target is to ideas from the character. The character can make additional diplomacy checks to get the target to perform tasks, provide information, etc.  

_For example, Count Parlfray is unfriendly where Kestral is concerned.  She’s too young and obviously too weak to be anywhere but over her head and will only get herself killed.  As opposed to Kellron, who he is friendly with.  However Kestral’s a bright woman and fairly charismatic.  Given time and the right words, she can argue Count Parlfray into a corner where he has no choice but to agree.  He may regret it later, but that’s later.  

I expect this is a fairly broad interpretation, but it gives a small party some options in case of a bad roll.  Note that a person who is unfriendly or hostile to the party may refuse to see the party to give them another chance to negotiate.  Also note that when characters can average 15+ before the die (or make a 25 by taking 10) they can change a hostile persons attitude to indifferent and make an unfriendly person helpful.  Indifferent folk (the man on the street for example) are automatically friendly. _

e. Some ideas are so alien to the mindset of an NPC/Monster, that they fall in the realm of practically impossible.  Of course characters can pull this off with 10 ranks in the skill and at a –20 modifier.  Convincing a Vampire to go vegetarian should require a modified roll 70 (hostile to the idea and must be convinced to actively participate – which is helpful).  Convincing the same vampire to drink only the blood of animals might only require getting a friendly result (modified roll of 55).

2) *Charisma Checks:*  Characters wanting to stop a fight just as it begins must accomplish either a charisma check or a bluff check with a DC of 35 (friendly).  Diplomacy cannot be used, however 5 or more ranks of diplomacy adds a +2 synergy bonus to the check.  

3) *Gather Information:*  This is the only skill I heavily modified.  I don’t like that someone with 7 ranks in gather information still takes eight hours to track down a single piece of information, despite having a total Gather Information score of say +12.  So instead I allow players to gather 1 itemof information per rank per day of gathering.  It still costs one or two gold pieces per day per piece of information, but it’s now a little faster to get it.  Of course some people might want to know why a character is asking so many questions.

_edit: stupid tags and the man who edited them.  _


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## Bad_English

*Please tell me you are ...*

Going to post more. Usually I am in here for Blackdirge's NPC's but I have to say. Dude. Don't stop, keep the writing style, and please put this in the archives. Without doubt post a link to any other Story Hours you have.
Uh...Enough of this happy crap returning to bitter geek mode 
OK avtually the Doctor is here with the Meds and today since I have been a good psychotic not so much Thorazine.


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## Seravin

Praise! Cool!   

Thanks.  I do plan on posting more, but life has been busy this last week.  Hopefully by Saturday I'll have the next installment.

As for other Story Hours, this is my only one.  I may eventually do a write up of my RttToEE game, but it won't be for a little while longer.  

Again, thanks for the praise and enjoy the meds...


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## Seravin

*The Thornwood*

The Thornwood was mostly off limits to the folk of Haranshire by the simple reason of it being too dangerous for any rational soul to want to travel too far into its depths.  Spiders were known to lair deep within, grown huge and fat off of some unknown magic within; and there were tales of darker things beyond those.  So instead the folk of the county skirted the edges of the wood logging what they needed and never venturing too far.  So far both the wood and the people seem to be content.

It was late in the afternoon of the third day since Lyntern had joined with the band of mercenaries.  His father’s opinion of the mercenaries was mercurial, and changing which surprised the young nobleman.  Normally when the old Count had made up his mind it was as if the idea was set in stone.  Twice now though, these mercenaries had convinced his father to let him go with them.  He wasn’t quite sure what to think, but he knew he wasn’t worried.  In fact his confidence had increased for these mercenaries had made friends with Kupier, a former Imperial Scout who lived in the county.  Better, upon hearing of their goal Kupier had agreed to join them.  In fact the ranger was instrumental in getting them to their goal, Broken Spire Keep.

Originally called Silver Spire Keep, the fortress had been built around three hundred years ago to secure the frontier of the empire and to make a home for the Parlfray line.  A little over one hundred years ago that all changed.  In a single, blood-stained night the inhabitants of the keep were slain.  One week later when Elman Parlfray (the then Count) and his family came back from a visit to the capital, not a living thing stirred within three miles of the keep.  Even the grass surrounding the keep was yellowed as if light-starved.

The gates of the keep were locked and there was no sign of siege, but everyone in the keep had been slain by violence that night, taken seemingly unawares.  The only damage to the keep proper was to the Watch Tower from which rose the silver spire that gave the keep its name.  When the count and his entourage arrived, the spire and a good portion of the upper floor laid shattered and broken on the ground.

Not a fool, Elman Parlfray immediately moved his family home to a new location in the Halfcut Hills.  The people remembered the old keep however, though they began to call it Broken Spire Keep, so named by one of the soldiers who first saw the devastation within.  For the next two decades the locals and soldiers avoided the keep as much as possible, but there were always whispers of Broken Spire.  Eventually the whispers grew so much that Elman Parlfray outlawed all mention of the keep again.  Those who did so were beaten and fined.  Faced with such a penalty and with no repeat of the disaster that had sundered the keep, the populace slowly began to let the past go, until eventually all mention of the keep disappeared except from certain tomes that were rarely looked at.

Now for the first time in a century a band graced with noble permission looked upon the keep from the advantage of a low ridge.  In a different century the trees about the keep would have shielded it from the vantage point of the ridge.  Since the fall of the keep however no form of vegetation around the keep was healthy; trees that use to stand straight and tall were now twisted and bent.  To most of the companions there was nothing wrong, however Kupier perceived that the land itself was somehow wounded.  He would have to tell Oleanne, the druidess.

As for the keep itself, time had touched it, but not as harshly as it could have.  The keep was built in a rough square, almost a hundred feet on the side.  Dark brown stone had been quarried and hauled from somewhere to build the walls to a respectable fifteen feet high.  Here and there chunks of this stone had fallen and now lay scattered about the ground.  The main building of the keep rose up twenty feet and took up the entire back wall.  The single watchtower standing next to the main building once reached over forty feet high but was smaller now, the top ten feet of now laying at the base; the spire of silver that had given the keep its name now gone.  Smaller outbuildings lined the interior of the keep’s walls, obviously providing room for guards, horses, and storage.  Surprisingly the buildings, and their roofs seemed intact.  

All in all it looked reasonably good for over a hundred years of abandonment.  Though the field of yellow grass surrounding the keep look disturbing.

It was Ashimar’s keen eyes that spotted the movement atop the ruins of the tower first.  “There.”  He pointed.  “A guard.  He looks human.”

Kupier nodded and pointed to the gate that was closed.  “Another two are standing watch there and there.”

_Cautiously the seven retreated away from the ridge and into the forest and made their plans.  Eventually it was decided (quite easily actually) that they would make their way down to the edge of the forest surrounding the keep.  There they would wait until nightfall.  Under the cover of darkness and spells and potions, Ashimar would infiltrate the keep.  The young bravo was certain that he could scale the keep’s walls and tie off a rope for his friends to climb.  Further, Ashimar insisted that he could climb the tower itself and silence the guard.  His friends were somewhat skeptical but were willing to give him a chance.  If they could get inside without anyone noticing, they could launch a devastating surprise attack.  So decided the group picked their way cautiously down the ridge line and made for Broken Spire Keep._

_edit: pesky grammar errors _


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## Seravin

*Assault on Broken Spire*

Ashimar peered through the darkness and tried to gauge the distance between him and the battered old keep.  Perhaps eighty feet of open field lay between him and the dark silhouette of the keep.  The clouds from the late afternoon had hung about and now the night was dark; perfect for making his way across the open expanse.  In theory the guard on the tower would never see him, but just in case Ashimar was warded by the most powerful magics the party could devise.  A mantle of invisibility laid on him by Jallarzi was his first layer of defense.  A potion that granted dwarf-sight for seeing in the dark made it easier for him to see.  Finally, another potion that increased strength was coursing through Ashimar’s blood – that was for the coming fight.

“All right.”  Whispers the ex-thief.  “I’m heading out.”  

Kellron saluted the voice in the darkness – a gesture of good luck.  Though from vastly different backgrounds, he and Ashimar had become fast friends.

_One._  Ashimar made his way quickly through the open field.  Behind him, Kestral and Jallarzi were counting to sixty.  When they reached that number they were going to follow after believing that the watch-guard was dead.

_Four._  Hyla, Lady of Luck, glanced away while Ashimar was still crossing the open expanse at his brisk walk.  Moving as fast as he was Ashimar never saw the signs of the concealed pit.  Ground gave way and Ashimar threw himself to the left and rolled to his feet.  The noise alerted the guard on the tower who began shouting.

“Oi!  Who’s there?”  The guard, Dav, could see nothing, but he was the nervous sort.  The keep had a bad reputation and Dav was jumpy.  Locating a moving shadow he fired blindly into the ground near the noise.

_Seven._  Ashimar thought about turning back and warning his friends of the pit but decided against delaying.  They surely heard the noise.  Ashimar made it to the keep walls where a corner was formed as part of the keep jutted further out from the main structure.  What was once smooth stone had been worn over the centuries and neglect had completed the work.  It would be ridiculously easy to climb here.

Meanwhile, Dav’s shouts and crossbow fire has risen the guards in the courtyard.  
“What’s going on up there?”  Shouts one of the courtyard guards.
Dav eyes the shadows suspiciously, but he can see no movement and everything is quiet.  Ashimar had long ago learned how to climb silently.

_Thirteen._  Now standing on top of the walls of the keep, Ashimar takes a quick look around before  moving to the tower itself.  From here it’s only another fifteen feet up to what’s left of the tower roof.  

Dav finally answers the guards in the courtyard.  “Nothing.  It sounded like someone was out there.”  Dav doesn’t sound so sure, but the guards know him and curse him roundly for being so jumpy.

_Nineteen._  Ashimar crosses the roof, taking care not to make any sudden sounds.

_Twenty-five._  All is quiet from the courtyard and the top of the tower.  Ashimar is climbing slowly, making as little noise as possible.  Only his good strength, honed with his training bouts with Kellron, allow him to make the slow movements necessary to scale the wall so silently.

_Thirty-seven._  Ashimar finally makes the top of the tower wall and cautiously moves over the loose rock.  The tower is nearly forty feet across and the guard is about twenty feet away looking with suspicion at the darkness.  The roof itself is covered in bird droppings and the floor, originally designed to be an interior floor, looked ancient and rotted.  Thirty feet away to the right, just ten feet beyond the guard is a crude shack that covers the stairwell; a good place to stay out of the rain if necessary.  Ashimar notes that the guard is dressed in simple leather armor and has a short-blade and a crossbow.  Ashimar grins.

For his part, the hairs of Dav’s neck are standing on end, but he doesn’t hear anything.

_Forty-Three._  Ashimar draws his rapier as quietly as possible and rushes the guard in a surprise charge.  Dav’s reflexes are good though, not quite conscious of any presence on the tower with him, he still manages to turn as Ashimar rushes him.  Ashimar still strikes and manages to make it a deep wound, but the guard does not go down.  Still, he’s too surprised to do more than take a deep breath.

_Forty-Nine._  The guard is still off balance and Ashimar presses the attack.  Another thrust and Dav slides to the ground with a muffled thump.  Ashimar moves back to the edge of the tower.

“Damn it Dav!  What’s going on up there?”  Shouts the guard at the gate.

_Fifty-Five._  Ashimar looks around wildly and then shows himself to those in the courtyard, confident that they can’t really see more than a silhouette.  With a harsh cough, Ashimar begins his bluff.  “Nothing.”  He rasps out with another cough. “Just tripped.”

The gate guard looks up at the tower and decides that Dav is coming down with something.  “All right.”  He calls and decides to head back into the barracks for a quick snack.  No one was going to attack this accursed keep in the next two minutes anyway.

_Sixty._  Kestral and Jallarzi look at each other and nod to the others.  They all heard the shouting from the keep though it was mostly unintelligible.  No alarm appeared to have been raised.  They quickly cross the open expanse to the same spot Ashimar climbed up.  It would be easiest there.  Unfortunately, like Ashimar, Hyla glanced away from them too.  Panther was first to find one of the covered pit traps dotting the expanse.  Like Ashimar he threw himself to the side, rolled to his feet and continued on.  Jallarzi and Kestral managed to make their way across unscathed.  Kellron however did not fare so well.  Already slowed by his armor, Kellron blundered into yet another pit trap and fell to the bottom.  Fortunately for him his armor turned away the many spikes at the bottom.  Lyntern and Kupier stopped to help him climb out.

Ashimar takes the rope from his backpack and secures it to a solid looking chunk of stone.  Then looking around he moves to the stairwell.  Ten feet across the roof, Ashimar steps on a spot that the latest occupants had known to avoid.  The rotted timbers gave way with a sudden crash and Ashimar was falling.


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## Leopold

please update this and tell me when you hit book2! My PC's are on book 2.9 and almost on book 3! Great stuff! My PC's did most of the same stuff y'all are doing


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## Seravin

Heh.  The characters are currently in book 2 also.  Late book 2.  I'm way behind in the posting.  Hopefully I'll be one or two posts closer by the end of the weekend.

Thanks for the praise.  I remember reading some of your earlier posts when I first started running the campaign- for what it's worth you've made a contribution to this game.  

I was going to ask what level your group is - but seeing your link, I can tell.  I should have looked at it earlier.  
Yet another story hour for me to read.  Yay!  I'll just have to make sure it doesn't interfere with my posting.

_edit: asked a question I was able to answer. _


----------



## Seravin

*The Continuing Assault on Broken Spire*

_Wilmors started up to the top of the tower intent on giving Dav a piece of his mind.  The twenty four year old thug from the city of Harrow had long ago learned the best way to treat those who were stupid enough to shout at the least little thing.  He wouldn’t kill Dav, but the idiot would learn to only shout at real threats.

Halfway up the stairs he heard a thump and the stupid orc-bait yelling something to the guards in the courtyard.  Wilmors cursed and continued stalking up the ancient stairs.  It was a wonder that Milbourne didn’t hear them.   A dirty hand with long fingernails briefly touched the hilt of his sword.  Two years ago he might have killed Dav out of simple meanness, however he now followed Ranchefus and the priest’s words were law.  Nowadays it never even occurred to Wilmors to question Ranchefus.  More chillingly, to those who had known Wilmors, it never even occurred to the thug to wonder at his unquestioning obedience.

At the top of the stairs the thug stopped and let his eyes adjust briefly to the gloom.  It didn’t take long as his eyes had adjusted during the climb up.  What he saw stunned him.  At first he thought it was Dav, but Dav didn’t use one of those fancy rapiers.  The figure turned and faced him and Wilmors was certain that he was seen.  Before he could react, the rapier wielder was moving towards him.  Wilmors knew he wasn’t going to react in time as his hand fumbled for his short-blade.  _

Ashimar turned towards the stairs intent on sneaking down and making sure there weren’t any guards below.  As he turned his enchanted vision noted a figure coming up the stairs.  “Hells.”  Muttered the rogue.  Even as he swore Ashimar was moving again.  He would have to silence the man before he could shout the alarm.  Ashimar started forward and luck deserted him again.

Rotten timbers barely strong enough to hold their own weight gave way with a sudden crack as Ashimar’s two hundred pound frame stepped down hard on the ancient and weathered floorboards.  

_Wilmors started to breathe again.  He had been caught flat-footed and he knew it.  Just before the attacker had fallen, the thug had seen the body lying on the floorboards.  Dav was undoubtedly dead; and if he wasn’t he could be beaten later.  It was thirty feet below to stone paving.  There was some garbage down there, but the fall was almost certainly fatal.

If Wilmors had been thinking a bit more clearly he would have gone for the alarm bell.  Instead, with adrenaline dancing in his veins, he shouted for the courtyard guards and made his way back down the stairs, drawing his sword as he did so.  If the man wasn’t dead then Ranchefus would want to question him – and pain was the best tool for interrogation._

Meanwhile on the ground below, Kupier bade Lyntern to head to the keep.  The Imperial Scout then reached own and helped Kellron out of the spiked pit.  Kellron was thankful that his chain shirt had blunted the spikes.  Once the young warrior was out of the pit, the two men headed to the keep walls.  Panther and Jallarzi had already scaled the walls and Lyntern was halfway up. 

Once at the top of the keep wall Lyntern un-slung his bow and kept watch on the courtyard.  Kestral was the next to try and scale the wall, but her slight form was built more for agility then strength.  The woman fumbled briefly at the stone walls before Kellron and Kupier gave her a boost up.  Kestral cursed her weakness briefly but accepted the aid and scrambled up the rest of the way.

_Within the Tower_
He should have been dead.  There was no way around it.  If a person can die from falling off a horse, then a drop from thirty feet should have splattered Ashimar across the floor of the tower of Broken Spire Keep.  Later when asked how he survived the drop Ashimar would only shrug and note that he was extremely competent – and lucky.

Shaking his head Ashimar was able to stand up after the fall.  His body ached and he might have cracked some bones, but he was mostly intact.  His eyes refused to focus for a second, but he grabbed for his sword and lunged after the guard coming back down the tower stairs.  The good news was that there weren’t any guards at the bottom of the tower after all.

_Outside_
Panther was up at the top of the tower now helping Jallarzi over the side.  There was no sign of Ashimar but there was a large hole in the floor.  From below his keen ears could hear the sharp ring of metal on metal.  

Lyntern saw the guard come out into the courtyard from one of the buildings across the way and let fire with his bow; it was a clean miss.  Next to him Kestral did the same while Kupier and Kellron climbed the tower.  

_Inside_
Ashimar and the dirty thug who was missing half his left ear exchanged another round of blows and parted.  Both were bleeding and both knew that they were nearly equally matched.

Wilmors was betting that the intruder’s fall had weaken him – and it obviously had.  Ashimar was betting on his training with Kellron.  It had toughened him and made him far stronger than the casual street fights he had grown up on.  If life had turned out differently Ashimar may very well have been equally matched with Wilmors; but life hadn’t.  In a straight fight Ashimar was just ever so much better.

Ashimar proved it on the third exchange, ignoring the pain in his side and lunging with all his strength into Wilmors.  The thug wore no apparent armor but he obviously had some sort of protection.  Ashimar’s attack was nearly turned aside as he traded finesse for strength – but he managed to push through the resistance anyway and the ugly thug began to cough up blood.

Jallarzi finished him off with a single magic missile from the top of the stairs.  Seeing the opponent fall, she made her way down the stairs and looked around.  From the ground floor, the spiral stairs continued on down to the cellars below and there was short hallway from which the sorceress/wizard could see two doors - one open.  She moved herself away from the hallway and prepared her next spell.

Panther, and Lyntern were quick to follow Jallarzi down the stairs as Ashimar pulled from their small collection of captured potions and drank down one marked with the symbol of Niela, Lady of Healing.  Sword cuts closed and bones knitted and Ashimar felt better.

_The guards were alerted, but the group was now inside and they didn’t hesitate to press their advantage.  Two guards almost immediately came in from the open doorway as Ashimar was draining the dregs of the potion but were cut down by arrows from Panther and Lyntern.  As Kestral, Kellron, and Kupier made their way across the top of the tower and down the stairs, Ashimar, Jallarzi, Panther, and Lyntern managed to drive back the next set of guards and close the door.

Two minutes into the assault, the small group of seven had made their beach head into Broken Spire Keep._

_<edit - grammar, punctuation, and clarity>_


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## Seravin

*The Taking of Broken Spire*

_Twelve seconds.  Only twelve seconds more and the assault might have turned out differently; or not.  Perhaps Lyntern would have been killed forever ruining the party’s reputation in the area; perhaps not.  Ultimately it doesn’t matter, for what-ifs are the purview of bards and dreamers._

“Down the stairs or through the door?”  Asks Kellron looking at everyone.  All of them had their weapons out.  Ashimar and his bloodied rapier, Kestral and her familiar crossbow, Kupier and Lyntern with Imperial style longswords, Panther with his bow, and Jallarzi with her slim hands and arcane might.

The group looks at each other in askance.  Through door number one were guards who were waiting for them.  Not necessarily a problem, but potentially messy.  Through door number two was a kitchen and apparently a smithy (and only the long dead builders know why that was).  That left up and out, perhaps into the courtyard, or finally, down into the unknown cellars.

“Door.”
“We don’t need people at our backs.”
“Feh.  Door.”
<shrug>

Kellron nodded and hefted his sword and looked at everyone.  “Everyone ready?”  He asked.  Apparently they were.  Kestral, had her crossbow loaded, Jallarzi had her enigmatic and almost eager smile, both Lyntern and Panther had their bows ready, while Ashimar and Kupier’s swords were at the ready.  “Okay.  Ashimar, Kupier, and I will go through the door.  The rest of you come in and cover us as needed.”  Kellron looked explicitly at Lyntern.  “You stay near Kestral and Panther and be careful.”

With that the plan was set and they filed into the short hallway before the door to the next room.  Taking a deep breath, the warrior of Sarath cautiously touched the door handle and then with a yank and a push threw the door open to reveal the Grand Hall of the keep.
The hall was nearly 50 feet square with a roof that rose almost twenty feet up.  On the left, against the outer wall, was a stone fireplace with a low fire burning in it.  Above, finely carved rafters spoke of a former grandeur.  Dominating the center of the room was a fine, dark feasting table, made of some dark wood – though even from fifteen feet away Kellron could tell it had been much abused over the years.  The room itself was lit only by the flickering fire in the fireplace and a torch next to the main doors that led out to the courtyard.

More immediately there were a half-dozen men in the room, including an unpleasant looking man who stood six feet tall, had dark hair beginning to gray, and had a bastard sword strapped to his back.  All of the men had bows ready and were crouched down so as to provide as little as target as possible.  

Kellron and Kupier charged through the door, followed closely by Ashimar.  However, Kupier and Ashimar had to stop short as they noticed two men hiding on either side of the door.  The men in the hall with their bows ready got off a volley of arrows before anyone reached them and then switched to their swords and surprising everyone, three more men rolled out from under the table to help flank the invaders, but in the end it was not even close to a fair fight.  The group was outnumbered but Kupier, Kellron, and Ashimar were well trained _fighters_ whilst the defenders were little more than thugs.  Even their leader, the dark-haired man with the bastard-sword was only marginally better trained than your average guardsman.  By the end of the fight Ashimar was on top of the table with a corpse at his feet, Kupier was next to the door with two bodies at his feet that had started with the idea of trying to flee, and Kellron was just a little aways with the leader at two more bodies at his feet.  The rest of the group was just inside the hall with evidence of their ammunition scattered about.

They took only the time to search the bodies and down a few more potions of healing.  Lyntern had been hit by a stray arrow and Kellron invoked Sarath’s blessing to heal it.  Another quick discussion later and they decided to head downstairs.  Before they did so, Kestral took the time to disable the large brass bell mounted on the wall.  It was fortunate that no one had rang it already, but they certainly didn’t want anyone else to ring it while they were exploring elsewhere.  The last item of interest that they noted was a familiar fish-like smell that permeated the leader of the thugs.

*Two Minutes Later*
Kupier took the point, heading down the stairs and Kellron took the rear guard.  There was no telling if there were more guards coming.  The rest of the group filed up between the two veterans.

Kestral drifted closer to Kupier.  Imperial Scouts had a reputation in the Empire.  “Can you tell if anyone has been down this way?”  She asked.

The old scout nodded and pointed towards a bit of food and half of a boot print.  “There.  And there.  Fortunately they’re not good housekeepers.”  The man grinned.  There’s been some traffic down here.”  Kestral took note of the signs he pointed out and filed them away.  The party then filed down the circular stairs into a small chamber.  Only one door led out.

“Through the door?”  Whispered Kestral.

Kupier’s eyes had never left the trail.  He nodded and Kestral and Ashimar quickly checked the door in sequence.  “All quiet.”  They reported.  So saying, Ashimar opened the door and stepped into a long dark hallway that started from the door and ran to their right.  Jallarzi summoned an arcane light.

Kupier took point again.  The scout frowned and slowly crossed the hallway to a point about twenty feet down from the door.  “Something…”  He trailed off and pointed at the floor.  His next sentence was whispered.  “Here.  There’s a footprint half under this wall here.”

The party looked at each other excitedly and quickly pulled back for a conference.  “Really?”
“A room?”
“Recent tracks?”
“I believe so.  Within the last day at least.”

Ashimar and Kestral stepped forward and a quick search confirmed a cleverly concealed door.  What is more, they could hear the muffled voices beyond.  The group looked at each other and tightened their hold on their weapons.  Kellron and Kupier moved closer to the door while Kestral, Panther, Lyntern, and Jallarzi took up firing positions.

Without a word they opened the secret door and revealed a large room extravagantly appointed.  Rich tapestries depicting scenes of conquest and destruction hung about the walls.  Off on one side was a finely carved rosewood table with two matching chairs.

On the opposite wall there was an open door and disappearing through it was a hulking figure in blackened leather armor.  Ashimar thought he recognized the figure as an orc. 

Closer still and more riveting was a large comfortable looking armchair next to a table filled with decanters of various liquors. Seated in the chair was tall man with dark complexion and greasy black ha.  He wore a patch over his right eye.  Ashimar immediately recognize the priest who had attacked them on the river almost two weeks ago.  He was still dressed in chain armor and his shield and flail were leaning against the chair.  Nearby, casually flanking the priest in a loose honor guard formation, were four men in black robes with large concealing hoods.

The priest started to turn as the hidden door pivoted open, a look of annoyance on his face.  The look changed to alarm as Ashimar’s quick reflexes took over and he charged into the room.  As he passed the doorway he caught sight of a guard on either side, also wearing the concealing black robe and hoods.  “Guards.”  He shouted as he sprinted the fifteen feet to the chair.  He ran with his arm fully extended, intending to spear the priest.  He succeeded for the most part, and the metal sunk almost six inches into the man’s upraised arm.  Ashimar pulled the blade free and by the spurt of blood knew he had hit a major blood vessel.

Panther fired around his friends to hit one of the unholy honor guard that would undoubtedly attack Ashimar for his impertinence. The arrow sunk deep into the guard, but there was no reaction of pain or anything else.  Kestral followed suit as Kellron and Kupier made their way into the room to take care of the guards flanking the guards.  Both Kellron and Kupier managed to sink their blades into their respective targets, knocking the hoods of their opponents back; revealing the faces of corpses long dead.

Then Ranchefus was able to react, standing up quickly and ordering his zombie guards to attack and then calling loudly for help.  Being in a tight situation he concentrated while trying to dodge Ashimar’s weaving blade and tried to summon the tyrannical power of Tresh the Usurper.  Perhaps it was his wound, but Ranchefus was not up to the task and the spell of holding drained away.  

Jallarzi and Lyntern dodged their way into the room and fired at random targets; the sorceress/wizard with a pair of magic missiles and Lyntern with his bow. 

The resulting commotion alerted the orcs in the next room and the pair charged into the room looking for targets.  No one but Ranchefus could tell, but the markings on the orc’s shields marked them as members of the Bloodskull tribe, a vicious and barbaric tribe by even their own race’s standards.

_Within the first few seconds the tide of battle had been decided.  The zombies were relentless opponents but not very skilled and easily avoided.  Kupier, Kellron, and Ashimar were skilled warriors and each one was easily a match for any one person in the room.  With Kestral, Jallarzi, Panther, and Lyntern for support, the outcome was never in doubt.  

Ashimar quickly finished Ranchefus on his own, sustaining some injuries from the zombies, but nothing life threatening.  The head orc emissary was more of a problem as it entered a mindless rage and started laying about with it’s axe, but Kupier had cut his teeth on fighting orcs and Kellron’s battlefield training was nearly equal to the old Scout’s.
Meanwhile Panther and Kestral moved into the room quickly and shut the door so no trace of their combat would alert anyone else.

It really just wasn’t fair – for the bandits at least.   No one would realize that the surviving guards up top were only twelve seconds from deciding to alert Ranchefus when the group had assaulted the Grand Hall.  The guards were slow to respond to the attack though and the keep was truly large with many twists and turns.  What the group didn’t know was that by the time they had killed Ranchefus only two other bandits were currently in the keep._


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## Seravin

From a DM's perspective I remember being a little disgusted at the easy time the party had.  The dice were with them and their inexplicable 'Player's Insight' feat was working overtime.

To be fair I made some mistakes, but given the time since this last event I'm hard pressed to remember all the events and their specific sequences.  The big thing I should have remembered was for the guards to use the alarm bell.  Ah well - lesson's learned.

Things that stand out include:
*Ashimar's climb up the tower and his fight with the guards.  That was cool.

* My amusement as the party traversed the open field, scattered with hidden pits and deadfalls.

* My rapid plans as I tried to figure out the timing of who the guard's notified and when while the entire party was holed up in the tower.  I was *two* rounds from the guards sending a runner to Ranchefus.  I decided they try and wake one of the other lieutenants instead. 

* The decision to search for tracks in the cellar as they came off the stairs and Kupier's natural 20.  He went straight to the secret door.  I think Ranchefus was killed in round two.  Poor evil cleric, he never stood a chance.

Heh.  Players.  Gods love 'em.  At least they had fun and they were justifiably proud of themselves after all of this.


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## Seravin

*Huh...*

Here it is next week already and I don't have an update ready yet.  <sigh>
Apologies to those who read but work has been a busy, moreso because I've got to clean things up for a vacation I'm taking.

I am taking the laptop with me though and I'll try and work on the next set of updates.  As it is, I think I have to revise the last update anyway - it looks as if one little fight got dropped.  The updates probably won't happen until around the 29th though.

-seravin


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## Capellan

Just wanted to leave a quick note to say that I am enjoying this SH.  Your updates are written with a direct style and tempo, which I like.

I, for one, would be interested in seeing your campaign notes.  I've had a bad experience with Night Below as a player, and would be interested to see your comments on the module.


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## Wynter Wolf

Hello thought i should finnally check in. I am the player that ran the Ashimar character thru this adventure, and let me tell you it was quite a blast. Good job on The story Seravin please continue posting about my heroic exploits.


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## Seravin

Hey,
I'm back from vacation.  The Grand Canyon was a blast.  One of these days I may have to set an adventure in a vast rift filled with the temples of the gods.  
Unfortunately, all that coolness prevented me from getting any updates started.  Soon though.

For those who are interested, I revised the last post.  It seems I dropped a fairly significant fight before the party went down the stairs and fought Ranchefus.  The majority of the changes were near the top and I made a couple changes at the bottom that were less significant.

Wynter Wolf - Welcome to the boards and feel free to drop your two cents in.

Cappellan - Thanks for the praise, I truly appreciate it.  I'm not the writer I wish I was, but I'm glad that I appear to be on the right road.
As for my comments on the module, I like it.  I've been wanting to run it for several years now but for one reason or another wasn't able to.  I even had lead-ins to it from previous games, but no one had ever gotten around to investigating them.  <shrug>.  
From the DM's persepective it has most everything I wanted from a campaign - which it is.
Epic Plot - check
Framework for adventure locale - check
Easy to integrate with my current world - check
Mind Flayers - check
Cool encounters - check
Opportunity for role-playing - check

Downsides include:
It's for 2nd Edition so conversion of some sort is necessary - which brings it's own set of problems to the table.
The 2nd third of the module can be tediously long.
Overall, the module just provides a framework - it needs a lot of fleshing out to be put in a campaign setting.

In the end, conversion isn't really the problem.  There are only two choices for converting.  Either keep monsters and treasure as-is and convert basic stats _or_ try to convert completely to 3rd edition rules, toning down monsters and treasure to whatever level the party is at by the time they reach the encounter.  
I went with the former style and as a result the party has had a huge amount of treasure on hand.  Fortunately for me, they're sinking it into a keep.
Monster conversions aren't that tough as I think everything has been converted in one source or another - but dealing with the number of monsters has been challenging.  One encounter has some 40+ trolls.  The saving grace of that encounter is that they're scattered across some huge caverns and two tribes.  My group was smart enough to use hit and run tactics but it took forever.
What's staring me in the face right now is that because of the monster numbers, the party has access to 8th level spells.  That puts a serious spin on the later encounters in Book 2 - where the expected party level was probably around 10-12 (2nd edition).  In retrospect I should have slowed XP advancement from 12th level onward.
Overall though it's been fun.

As a player, were you guys playing 2nd or 3rd edition?  How far did you get?  Did you make it to the City of the Glass Pool (where my players are right now)?  There are certainly some frustrating places that can be found throughout the module, some of them more frustrating than others depending on the DM's and player's style.

If you're not currently playing (or have gotten past the City of the Glass Pool), I'd be happy to send you my notes.  They're really just in a diary format right now.  Just email me and I'll send them to you.


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## Seravin

*Squirrel and the Keep*

_Heydrus, a young man all of sixteen years old, was a study in the abuses of mankind on mankind.  On the tall side of medium height, he was painfully thin with scrofulous skin and light brown hair that looked as if someone had been using it to mop up greasy floors for a week.  The first word in most people’s mind when they first met him was either ‘wretched’ or ‘victim’.  

In need of money and somewhat lazy he had fallen in with the group of bandits almost by accident and became their all-purpose servant and dogsbody.  With hindsight Heydrus daily regretted his choice, if only because of the intimidation and occasional random violence visited upon him almost daily.  If he had any moral qualms about what the bandits of Broken Spire Keep was doing, he wisely kept them to himself.

At the time of the assault on Broken Spire, Heydrus had been peacefully sleeping off a very wearisome day and had never heard any of the fighting that had broken out.  As dawn broke over Broken Spire Keep, the young man found himself being slapped awake by several bandits just returning with some supplies.  Somewhat confused the young man could only stammer that he knew nothing of a fight.  He had slept throughout the entire night after cleaning Wilmor’s boots five times after dinner (the thug had made Heydrus clean them and had then walked outside in the mud, dirtied them, came back inside and had beatened the young man for not doing a good job).

The bandits, five in all, looked at each other in worry and as one came to the same decision.  “Go get Ranchefus.”  They told Heydrus.  Heydrus wasn’t stupid.  Ranchefus wouldn’t like this and would probably take out the bad news on him.

Unfortunately, just getting up, Heydrus didn’t get the entire story on the assault and wasn’t given much time before being told to get the boss.  It never crossed his mind that everyone upstairs was dead.  He just assumed that the gate guards were dead._

It was early morning with Ashimar and Lyntern on the third watch.  So far all had been quiet and the rest of the group was sleeping peacefully.  For Lyntern’s part, the eighteen-year-old man was excited.  

After killing the priest they had searched the two rooms.  Kestral had found a secret door leading to a passage that descended into dark, stone passages.  Even more exciting was the obvious wealth the bandits had taken in.  Both rooms were lavishly appointed (though Kellron had pulled down and slashed the tapestries showing the dark gods).  The furnishings were of the finishes, polished wood, and the decanters and glasses were of crystal.

In a locked strongbox under the bed in the next room (which had been covered in fine furs) they had found hundreds of coins of gold and platinum, as well as gems and a pair of bejeweled bracelets.  Kestral’s estimate was that the entire box probably worth close to six thousand gold lions.  Six thousand!  It was worth more than the entire county of Haranshire and it didn’t include the trinkets taken off the bandits themselves. Latina alone knew where the bandits had gotten it all.

Finally there was the magic.  The mysterious sorceress, Jallarzi, had noted with some authority that a number of the claimed items were enchanted.  They included two magic rings, a pair of magic bracers, two magic swords, a magic bow, a cloak, chainmail, and flail, as well as six magic potions – four of which smelled weirdly fishy.

*<wham><wham><wham>!*
The banging at the door woke those sleeping with a start, while Ashimar and Lyntern who were on guard duty picked up their blades and padded over to the door.

“Sir!  Come quick!  There’s been a fight upstairs!”  Came a muffled voice from the other side of the thin stone door.  Again there was a banging on the door.

Kellron walked over to the door also and he and Ashimar eyed each other.  Ashimar nodded and, as soon as Kellron looked ready, pulled open the door.  The warrior of Sarath lunged past Ashimar, grabbed the startled kid standing there before he could do anything, and pulled him inside.  Ashimar then poked his head outside, looked to see that the hallway seemed clear, and then quickly closed the door.

As the door closed Kellron had the boy held up against the wall.  “Who are you?”  He growled.  As he did so, Kestral came up and quickly divested the youth of his short blade.  

The youth looked quickly around the room, his eyes wide.  There was no sign of Ranchefus.  “He…Heydrus, Sir.”  Stammered the boy with cowering respect.  He was use to rough treatment and knew how to make himself as non-threatening as possible.

“And what are you doing here?”  Asked Kellron, his voice still gruff.

The youth stammered his answered again.  “I…I came to warn Ranchefus that we’ve been attacked.”  

“Is he the priest?”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s dead.”  Kellron let that sink into the boy as he looked the youth over closely.  Surprisingly, there was no feeling of taint on the boy.  “How many bandits are left here?”

“About a dozen or so, Sir” answered Heydrus.  Truthfully he had no idea how many people were dead, but a fast answer usually got him hit less.

“How much ‘or-so’?  Asked Kestral sweetly, playing the good guard.

“I’m not sure, Ma’am.”  Answered Heydrus looking at her with a little fear.  He had known too many sweet women.  They were the worst.  “I just got up and was told to come down and warn Ranchefus.”  He looked at the seven people, all slightly disheveled and most with blood splatters on their clothes and armor.  “Please don’t kill me.”  He added.

Kellron looked over the youth.  “How did you get mixed up with these bandits?”  He gestured to the bedroom behind them where they had put the bodies of Ranchefus and the orcs.  “That man in there was a priest of the evil gods.”

Heydrus trembled and did his best at looking pathetic – it was a pretty good effort.  “I…I just got mixed up with them.  You know.  I clean up and cook for them.  That’s all.”  Heydrus lifted up his chin to show a nearly healed black eye.  “They hit me sometimes.”  Sensing some soft-hearts, he continued.  “Balrat is the worst.  He makes me clean his boots and then will beat me when he dirties them up ‘for not doing a good enough’ at it.”

Ashimar pointed to the old, comfortable looking over-stuffed chair.  “Sit over there.”  He ordered.  Kellron carefully let the boy go, half expecting him to try and bolt but there was nowhere for Heydrus to go.  The boy slunk over to the chair and sat gingerly in the seat, looking anxiously about.


Kellron rolled his eyes a bit at the obsequiousness of the youth.  “Come here...  What’s your name?”  Before the boy could answer, Kellron, clearly frustrated by the youth, continued speaking.  “Come here, Squirrel.”

Heydrus took no offense at the name.  He wasn’t in a position too, and the name was a lot better then some things he had been called.  He approached Kellron slowly.

“You’re going back up there and telling them that everything is all right.”*

Ashimar broke in.  “Tell them that Ranchefus killed us and is interrogating a prisoner.”

Heydrus looked uncertain but nodded.  “I can do it sir.”

“Good.  If you can help us we can see that you get a pardon from the Count.  We can even keep you with us.  Kellron can use a squire or something.”  Ashimar smiled encouragingly at the boy.  “We pay well.”  He added.  The last perked up Heydrus’ ears.

With that Kestral and Ashimar straightened the boy’s clothes a bit and ushered him out the door.  Jallarzi looked at her pack with it’s spellbook and went into a corner to study.  If things worked well she should be able to memorize her spells.  If they didn’t – well she still had a couple in memory.

While the white-haired sorceress studied the rest of the group chatted about what to do while they were waiting.  

“We’ll need to follow that secret passage in the bedroom back there.”  Said Ashimar, jerking his head towards the lavishly appointed bedroom the orcs had been heading to.  The secret door they had found had led downwards through uncut rock and opened up in a large passage running north-south.

“We should make sure the keep is really clear first.”  Said Kellron, clearly not trusting ‘Squirrel’.

Kestral looked around.  “Maybe we can get Squirrel to lead the bandits down here one at a time or something.”  The others nodded at that suggestion, clearly liking it.

Kupier looked up at Ashimar suddenly.  “Didn’t you say that you had to have Lyntern back within the week?”

“Hells.”
“Crap.  That’s right”

It had taken three days to get to Broken Spire and they would clearly spend at least part of today exploring.  They had no time for exploring the passages below.

Ashimar looked at Kupier.  “After we take care of the remaining bandits could you take Lyntern back to Parlfray Keep?  While you do that, we’ll check out the passage below.

Lyntern looked as if he was going to say something but kept his mouth shut.  He had heard these folk promise his father to return him.  It was best that it occurred or his father would cause no end of trouble.

Within five minutes there was another knock at the door.  The party moved about the room and prepared themselves for battle while Ashimar went to the door.  Unperturbed, Jallarzi continued studying, though her fingers flexed just a little as she turned a page in her book.

Ashimar opened the door and used it to partly shield himself from any unexpected crossbow fire.

Heydrus stood there, alone and harlmess.  “It’s done.”  He said with some pride.  “They’re cleaning things upstairs now.”

Ashimar looked up and down the hallway cautiously and ushered the boy in and closed the door.  After that they interrogated the boy about everything he knew about the keep.  Heydrus was even able to draw them a map of the upper and lower spaces.

Eventually the question was asked, “What do we do now?” 

“We could have Squirrel bring down the other guards, one by one.”  Suggested Kestral.

The others looked at her.  “He just needs to tell them that the boss wants to speak with them.”  She explained.

Ashimar looked at the boy speculatively.  “He could tell them that Ranchefus wants to question all of them individually to make sure no one is enchanted.”

It took only a brief discussion before they realized they had nothing to lose by the idea.  

_Alas it was not quite to be.  Heydrus was a good enough actor but in the end he was unable to make the remaining half dozen bandits believe him.  Perhaps it was something in his voice, perhaps it was just some sixth sense.  Not that it matters.  In the end the six bandits gather their belongings and what loot they knew about, and left the keep.  

For the last two years banditry had been hard in this area, but it had been getting easier.  Until now.  The six men left the keep for good and were never seen in the duchy of Corlean again.

For his part, Heydrus also left.  The thought of being a servant for some warrior didn’t appeal to him, though the man had obvious charisma.  In his experience soldiers were a hard lot and didn’t mind hitting people; besides staying with these people was almost guaranteed to involve work.  He also left, though he kept the name Squirrel when he felt he shouldn’t use his real name.

The group waited fifteen minutes and explored the rest of the keep themselves.  It was nearly empty and so Kupier and Lyntern set off immediately back to Thurmaster.  In the end the party found only six more living creatures.  
-The first was a woman, apparently mute, and her two guard dogs she kept herself in the guardroom attached to the well-used cells.  She attacked them from darkness with a poisoned dagger as her dogs distracted the party but she was easily killed.
-Next was the sole remaining bandit.  He was suppose to have been on guard duty that night, but snuck off for a nap in the storeroom.  He had slept until dawn.  Ashimar was able to knock the man out.  He was interrogated and put in one of the prisoner cells, naked and chained to the wall.
-The next was a bizarre creature, a giant caterpillar the size of a large dog with long, lashing tentacles.  It was lairing in the latrine dump and attacked Ashimar while he examined the room.  One hit from its’ tentacles paralyzed the young man but his friends were able to kill it.
-Finally, there was a lone guard dog trapped in one of the rooms upstairs.  Ashimar tried to make friends with it, but they had to kill it in the end.

More interestingly they found a secret room warded with magic.  Inside they found the bulk of the bandits treasure including thousands of coins, and a small pouch of gems also worth thousands.  Additionally there was a wizards spell book in the treasure room as well as a scribed scroll.

Beyond that they also discovered the Parlfray crypt with the skeletal remains of the original owners scattered about.  Briefly, Kellron thought about searching the crypts for usable weapons, but in the end decided that it wouldn’t be right.

The body of the keep’s wizard was also found in his own suite, next to the underground crypt.  Something had snapped his neck so many years ago and his body had lain undisturbed.  On one hand was a magical ring.

Finally, they found the family chapel, once dedicated to Latina but now consecrated to Tresh by Ranchefus.  Both Ashimar and Kellron took pleasure in disposing of it’s skeletal guardians and removing all of its’ profane trappings

By the end of the day Broken Spire was thoroughly looted and the bandits dead or routed._

*In retrospect, as a deception, I probably should have docked something from Kellron for participating.  If paladins can’t lie they shouldn’t be ordering people to lie.  Quite frankly I didn’t catch it at the time and it made good tactical sense.  Oh well.


----------



## RedShirtNo5

Another lurker chiming in to say that I'm enjoying your story hour.  You've got the right mix of action, dialog, and descriptive detail.  

My players got through a heavily modified Book 1 (they were already about 4th level when I bought the box).  They enjoyed it, but were too frightened to actually go into the underdark to start Book 2.  Metagaming memories of D1-3 I suppose, but I wasn't going to railroad them.  It's a shame, since I like the module for the same reasons - epic plot, sufficiently generic to integrate into the campaign, mix of RP and combat.  I've thought a couple times about running it again under 3E, something like a "Return to".

I do wonder what you did with the end of Book 2, with so many multi-classed opponents.  That seems like a real pain to convert.

-RedShirt


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## Seravin

Thank you, Redshirt.  I appreciate the compliment.  I'm not sure that the mix of things is completely right, but your feedback shows that I'm at least in the ballpark - and praise is good for my ego.   

The conversion of the high level monsters was actually reasonably easy.  I used the guidelines in the 2e to 3e conversion booklet that came out when 3rd edition was released.  I think it is still available on WOTC's site somewhere for download.

For the end of book 2 I ended up using ETools do the conversions though.  A handy little tool and a bit easier to use in this case then PCGen for this particular project.

The amazing thing about all of this is that the converted power levels pretty much match the characters levels when they were encountered  One for one, the monsters have stayed right about the levels I'd like for the characters to face.  The bigger deal is that most of the monsters don't have the equipment for a character of their level, but that's usually been made up for by the sheer number of them.  Besides, the last thing the party needs is more treasure. 
When the party sacked Broken Spire, they had on the order of 12,000gp in cash, gems, and jewelry, on top of the magic items (some major) - and they were only about 4th-5th level.


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## Seravin

Nope.  No update.  Not yet.

I'm not sure where the last two weeks went, if you happen to find it, please let me know.  I am working on the next post though.  Hopefully in the next couple days.

In the meantime I could use some ideas bouncing some ideas off of people for the conversion of the third book.  It seems the group has finally hit the breakpoint of Party Level vs Monster CR. 

I'd certainly like some thoughts from those who have run or are running a Night Below game.  As such, I'm starting a new thread.

My players Stay Out.  You'll get to see it all in time anyway.

Anyways, more in the next couple days.  Thanks for the patience.


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## Leopold

posted in your RG thread


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## Seravin

*The Depths Below*

_Deep below the lands of men and elves lie passages and caverns; most of which have never been cataloged by mortal language.  Some were formed as Tasa shaped the world – deliberately included as part of her grand scheme.  Others were formed over millennia as water and magma followed their courses and laid bare the softer rock.

Still other passages and caverns were formed by various cataclysms that rent the earth as gods, their abominations, and their servants made their wars against each other.  The Takeel Wars some two millennia ago was only the latest terror which had left its scars literally miles deep.

Finally there were those passages and caves that were formed by mortal sentience and direction.  There are of course the dwarves, which have been delving deep since their own creation and mandate.  Dwarven cities and mines are well described in the records and books of lore, and are known to go deep into the earth.

The passageways that passed just a few hundred feet beneath Haranshire however, were formed at the direction of older creatures; darker creatures.  Using alien magics, giant worms, and slime covered crawlers, these passages were carved along ancient river ways – almost within touching distance of the surface.  These underground tunnels ran from the depths of the Thornwood northwards to the Blanryde hills; and westwards from the Hardlow Woods to just past Milbourne.

The creation of these passageways was impressive; no doubt.  Unfathomable tons of rock were displaced or consumed, opening up caverns that had never been seen before.  More impressive however, and more chilling, is that these passageways were created more than two centuries ago in preparation for a plan that had yet to see fruition._

“How long do you think these tunnels go?”  Asked Panther, looking about the tunnel in some anticipation.  The passageway they were in was almost twenty feet wide and nearly as tall.  The floor of the passage was worn smooth, perhaps by some river, though littered with rocks and boulders here and there.  The flickering light from Kestral’s and Jallarzi’s flickering crystal pendants threw dancing shadows before them.

Kellron shrugged.  “I don’t know.”  He answered.  And that was the only answer they really had.  Their captured prisoner had revealed nothing but a blatant hostility.  Kestral and Panther could sense that there was something not right with the man, but he answered inquiries with vile epitaths and swears.  In the end they chained the man in the cells beneath the keep.  They would return to him in the morning.

Earlier this morning Kestral had exited the secret passage that led from the secret door in the basement of Broken Spire Keep.  It had been quiet – with the notable exception of a small band of goblins that had been sneaking through the tunnels.  Fortunately the young courier heard the goblins and managed to hide herself as the goblins approached.  The goblins had nearly walked right over her hiding spot, but before that happened they veered off behind another mound of rocks and disappeared.  Investigation had revealed a smaller, hidden side-tunnel which only a child or a goblin would have easily crawled through.

Of orcs though there had been no sign.  So now the group wandered through the long passage, alert for any sign of movement.

It was because of this alertness that Ashimar stopped and raised his hand.  “Do you hear that?”  He hissed.  A sound not unlike a heavy sack being dragged across stone had graced his hearing; a very large sack.

Everyone stopped and cocked their ears down the hallway.  There was life in these tunnels beneath the earth.  Besides the occasional patches of fungus, a few spiders nearly a hand span across had skittered out their light.  Drips of water and the occasional falling rock had also garnered their attention.

<Shhrrrrrrruuppppp>
The sound was louder now and they all heard it.  They had heard it before in the darkness, but never so near.

*<Shhrrrrrrruuppppp>*
Kellron and Ashimar drew their blades and stepped forward slightly.  Kestral pulled out her crossbow and Panther his bow.  Jallarzi stepped back a bit and went through her list of spells.  A faint chemical smell hung on the air.

*<SHHRRRRRRUUUUUUPPP>*
“Goddess.”  Muttered Jallarzi.  “What _is_ that thing?”  Her elven sight had picked out the creature in the dim light.l
Panther just shook his head, seeing the same thing as the sorceress.

“What is it!”  Demanded Kellron, his blade now held high.  Just beyond his vision he thought he could make out the shadow of a wall or something.

*<SHHRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUPPP>*
The very air seemed to deform as something rushed towards Kellron and Ashimar.  It was easily ten feet wide and almost as high, and impossibly it moved across the stone floor, nearly tumbling over itself as it moved; looking for all the world like a wall of algae-stricken water.  

Kellron stepped to the side as the thing bore down on them.  Ashimar held his ground and slashed out with his rapier as it closed with him.  Most creatures would have recoiled at the pain of the wound he inflicted.  This thing wasn’t most creatures.  Instead it bore down on the young rouge and folded itself over him, engulfing the man.  Ashimar had the presence of mind to hold his breath but that was about it.  Paralytic acids began to enter his body through his exposed skin but Ashimar was able to shrug the effects off.

As Ashimar struggled in the bag of goo that held him, Kellron raised his sword and hacked at the creature.  Simultaneously Kestral and Panther let loose with their readied missiles and Jallarzi let off a pair of magic missiles.  

The goo formed a psuedopod from its mass which lunged out and struck Kellron.  Kellron grunted, but deflected the mass of it with his shield and struck back.  Inside the goo, Ashimar found out that his rapier was useless and fumbled for his dagger.  He nearly had it before the poisons finally overloaded his nervous systems and rendered him helpless.  The digestive acids of the creature were already working on his skin and clothes.

Frantically Kestral and Panther fired another pair of missiles into the creature, aiming high so as to miss their friend.  Jallarzi fired off another pair of magic missiles and the creature, driven by instincts, began to retreat with its food.

Kellron took a final swing at the creature, using all his strength, and laid open a gash across the entire length of the creature.  Already bleeding from numerous cuts, the integrity of the creature finally gave way and it gushed its interior fluids and Ashimar across the floor of the cave.  Ashimar was able to reflexively take a huge gasp of air as he was freed, but it was several minutes before his muscles allowed him to move.

Kellron saw to Ashimar’s burns, invoking Sarath’s aid.  Ashimar nodded his thanks to the paladin and looked around.  “What the HELL’S is that?”  He asked to no one in particular.

“I think it’s called a ‘Gelatinous Cube’.”  Answered Panther.  “A magical creation of some sort.”  The young half-elf looked at the remains that were already being absorbed by the limestone floor.  “They’re usually set to guard dungeons and what not.  They don’t normally run free.”

Ashimar grunted his response.  Warily, the group decided to press onwards.

_<edited a pronoun or two.>_


----------



## Seravin

*Further On*

The group stood in a cavern that was little more than a wide spot in the tunnel.  They had been traveling for at least ten straight hours and in that time had discovered two side passages that had led to the surface.  Those exits had been carefully concealed on the surface.

The journey had been predominantly northwards, but for the last two hours had been eastwards.  Kestral wasn’t sure, but she reasonably certain that they were not too far from Kupier’s farm.  

Though tired, they had been willing to continue onwards a little further.  The doors had stopped them though.  The double doors were fifteen feet tall, ten feet wide and shod in bronze; they were the first sign of intelligence they had seen all day.  The doors were unadorned save for a massive lock mechanism on each one.  Ashimar having seen a lock or two in his time thought that the work might be dwarvish.  Regardless of the door makers though, Kestral and Ashimar both determined that one of the keys they had recovered from Broken Spire would turn one of the locks; but both keys were needed in order for the doors to open.

“Is there anyway we can get through the doors?”  Asked Kellron.

Ashimar shook his head.  “No.  That’s bronze plating on those doors.  They look to be solid stone.”

Jallarzi finished scanning the door.  “The doors have some sort of aura on them.  It’s weak, but it’s probably means they’re strengthened.”

Kellron snorted in disgust.  “Great.”

Kestral, who had been kneeling near the doorway stood up.  “If I remember what Kupier said correctly, these are the boot prints of orcs.  The points are from the claws they hang off the boots.  It looks like they came through the doors and some went each way down the passages.

“Great.  We have a pair of doors we can’t open which orcs go through.”  Kellron looked at Jallarzi.  “Do you think we could get help from Tauster?”

Jallarzi shrugged.  “Maybe.  He seems to like me but he doesn’t owe us any favors.”

“We could just wait here until they open the door.”  Suggests Panther.

The others nodded at the suggestion.  It had merit.  After some discussion though it was discarded.  There was no place to set an ambush and the thought of a three prong attack didn’t appeal.

“There must be another key.”  Pointed out Ashimar.  “We just have to figure out who has it.”

“Squirrel did say that they hadn’t seen Jelenneth.”  Pointed out Kestral.  “Maybe another group?”  She nodded down the far passage that they had yet to explore.  “We could follow after those orcs.”

Ashimar and Kellron both nodded slowly.  “Not a bad idea.”  Admitted the paladin.

Suddenly Kestral’s face screwed up in disgust.  “No it isn’t.”  She said flatly.  “We have that prisoner.  His food and water will run out tomorrow.”

No one liked it, but the courier was right.  There was no help for it but to head back.

“We can’t camp here.”  Noted Panther.  

“Let’s go on a bit further.  Maybe we’ll find a side passage or cave.”

And true enough they did.  Not five hundred feet down, the passage turned and sloped up sharply.  It ended in a small, concealed cave that led outside into the Thornwood.  

They spent the night under the stars.

It was going to be at least six days before they could report back to Count Parlfray.


----------



## VictorSim

Excellent story hour.  I like the writing style and the occassional villain perspectives. 

I DM'd Night Below many years ago in second edition.  I had a large group (8 players as I recall).  So many players meant less XP per character so the party was just at the minimum recommended for going into book 2 (5th or 6th level I think).  The first mind flayer encounter was a TPK that ended the campaign.  

It was unfortunate as I was very interested to see how the rest of the module would turn out.  I am now living that experience vicariously through this story hour.  I hope more updates are forthcoming.

Thanks for the good story,
Victor


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## Seravin

Which is probably like using too many exclamation marks, but what the heck.  Thank you very much.


----------



## Seravin

*A Small Break*

It was a fine summer night that graced Parlfray Keep.  A gentle breeze came in from over the west wall and only a handful of stars were obscured by wisps of clouds.  Jola, the silver moon, was nearly full and lit the courtyard with her presence.  In about another hour Fon, the red moon, would be chasing her across the sky.

Despite the moonlight the two guards escorted their guests across the courtyard with brightly lit lanterns.  They knew these visitors from before and weren’t sure whether these guests would be welcomed or thrown out.  The old Count had not been happy to have his young son escorted back by the retired Imperial Scout.  Shortly they were past the courtyard and within the keep itself.

From there it didn’t take long for the two guards and their five guests reached the great doors of Parlfray Hall and the senior of the guards looked back at his oddly confident charges.  Perhaps they were confident in the gifts they were bearing.  Shrugging at their apparent unconcern he turned and banged the door’s clapper, loudly, three times on the door.  He paused and then grabbed the door ring and pulled.  The old door moved smoothly on its well oiled hinges, with only the timbers of its frame creaking softly with age.

“Milord!”  Called the senior guard as he stepped into the doorway.  “The people you were expecting have finally arrived and ask for audience with you and young Lyntern.”

The old Count’s reply was muffled with age and distance, but the guards had all learned to listen well and he could see the Count’s gesture well enough.  Stepping aside, the senior guard waved the five people through.  “Enter.”  He bade while ushering them through.  

Kellron nodded to the guard as he stepped past him into the great hall. This hall was certainly larger than the one in Broken Spire Keep.  The Parlfray family had evidently decided to make their newer keep larger when they rebuilt. Ashimar followed the paladin inside, followed by Jallarzi, Kestral, and Panther.  With a mixture of confidence and respect the five made their way before Count Parlfray.

The Count sat at the head of the table, apparently nearing the end of the evening meal.  To the Count’s right sat Lyntern.  Between the two only Lyntern seemed excited to see the five friends.  For his part, the Count looked over the five companions with grim determination as they made their way up the left side of the table to stand only five feet from him.

The Count dabbed at his lips with his napkin as the group approached and when they stopped he took a sip from his wine glass.  His eyes met each persons and grazed over Kestral’s bundle of furs.  His eyes eventually settled on Ashimar.  “I seem to recall you promising that _you_ would bring my son back to me. ”  He paused a moment and then continued.  "You didn't.  Now you are here almost a week after my son's return."  

Ashimar bowed.  “Our apologies my lord.”  He spoke.  “We were running out of time to get Lyntern back and there was still much to investigate.”  He nodded towards Lyntern.  “We figured Kupier would be able to keep him safe.”

“Hmph.”  Sniffed the Count.  “That’s all very well, but according to Kupier the old keep was cleared when he left.  Surely you could have come back and returned at your convenience.”

Kellron stepped forward and bowed.  “We might have my lord.  But we were not sure if more of the bandits would return and make off with valuable intelligence.”

“Hmmm.”  The Count seemed unconvinced was starting to listen.

Seeing that, Ashimar spoke up.  “Sir, with your permission we have something to present to your son.”

The Count’s eyes looked at the bundle of silver furs in Kestral’s arms and then to his son.  “Very well.”

Ashimar grinned and looked at the young man.  “Lyntern Parlfray, please step forward.”  So asking, he and his companions stepped back to form a half circle.

Curious, Lyntern wiped his hands, pushed back from the table, and stood up.  He quickly made his way around his father to stand in front of Ashimar.  “You held your ground and you followed orders.  I’d be proud to work with you again.”  So saying, Ashimar took a half step to the side to allow Kestral to move up.

Ashimar continued to speak as he unfolded the furs in Kestral’s arms.  “You may recognize these furs from the bed of the priest we killed.”  He smiled briefly.  “That priest had good taste, for these pelts were well preserved.”  Finally he unwrapped the bundle to reveal an imperial style long sword in a plain leather sheath.  Ashimar grasped the sheathe with both hands and presented the leather wrapped hilt to the young man.

The young man was grinning wide with excitement and pride.  He grabbed the proffered hilt and drew the sword with a single, clean pull.  The metal of the blade rang with a pure tone.  

The blade had been made in the old style, with faint etchings decorating the length of the blade.  Despite its apparent age the blade was still brightly polished.  It was still obviously a working sword for the steel tang wrapped in copper had several nicks in it.  The blade gleamed orange under the torchlight of the hall.

“This is one of the blades we recovered from Broken Spire Keep.  Jallarzi and Panther both affirm that it is enchanted.”  As Ashimar spoke, Kestral stepped forward and laid the furs on the table.  “The sword and the furs are yours for your help.  We would have had a much harder time without you.  Thank you.”

Ashimar was not normally a man of elegant words, but this plan was his and he wanted to see it through.  Kestral had coached him on the words, and she Panther, and Kellron had done their best to enhance Ashimar’s words and performance.

They succeeded.  Count Parlfray couldn’t help but puff his chest out a bit at the honor done to his son.  It was a princely gift and given without asking about taxes or such.  

When the five companions left the keep the next morning, they left with the goodwill of Count Sandior Parlfray.


----------



## Seravin

Looking over the past several posts it's obvious that I'm favoring Ashimar and Kestral a bit.  That's partly due to character design and the players themselves.  

Ashimar's player is pretty out-going and comfortable with taking the lead.
Kestral's player is less extroverted but Kestral was starting to become the face-woman of the group.
Panther's player was going through an extended absence so Panther was fading into the background.
While Jallarzi's player was still getting use to this entire role-playing thing.
Kellron's player is fairly extroverted but he played Kellron conservatively.  

Still and all I've got good players - I just hope I can do them justice as we go forward.


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## Seravin

*Thurmaster and Tauster*

Like its owner, Tauster’s cottage was comfortably disheveled.  The cottage had four distinct rooms that all somehow seemed to blend into each other with little warning.  Upon entering a guest first saw the kitchen and its sturdy little table (made by Garlyd in Milbourne).  Scattered about the table were a handful of parchments and an odd book or two.  Off to the left was an open doorway that could be closed off with a rather tattered looking curtain (actually an old bed sheet).  To the rear of the kitchen was a sturdy looking oak door, bound in iron.

The L-shaped room beyond the curtain was the largest in the cottage and served as a combination study, library, workshop, lab, and living room.  In one corner a pile of books teetered precariously against the wall.  Along the opposite wall was a scarred and burned table of some indeterminate wood; beakers, alembics, and pots were scattered seemingly haphazardly across its surface.  There were two chairs in this living area, arranged in front of the fireplace that was opposite the door.  Both were comfortably stuffed and on the side table between the two chairs were a pile of plates.

If one were to go through the forbidding, oaken door in the kitchen (presuming they got past the Arcane Lock) they would find Tauster’s bedroom.  The bedroom laid host to a sturdy bed with a sagging mattress, several blankets strewn about the floor, a wardrobe of some dark wood, and an iron washbasin.  The ever-familiar pile of scrolls and books were present, and there were always at least two plates and a mug sitting on the table next to the bed.

Today, just two days after her return from Parlfray Keep, Tauster was entertaining Jallarzi in his workroom.  The old wizard was enjoying teaching Jallarzi a little more of his craft and he wondered at her own tales of what she and her companions had done.

The wizard’s blue eyes crinkled as he shuffled through a pile of papers next to him.  “So the bandit leader was a cultist, eh?  And he was selling people to orcs?”  Jallarzi nodded and Tauster sighed, sounding a little older.  “At least Jelenneth didn’t pass through his hands.”  He said worriedly.

The old man drifted a bit, lost in thought, and then shook his head.  “I ramble so and I’m sure you’re much more interested in what I have discovered about the items you left on my doorstep then my random questions.”

“I always like listening to you.”  The sorceress-mage protested.  “You’ve helped me a lot with the spells you’ve taught me.”

Tauster smiled, pleased at the compliment, but he shook his head.  “Nonsense, girl.  You’re a natural at this, even more so then I was at your age.  I’ve never seen an apprentice progress as fast as you have.”  He shook his head in wonder.  “Most apprentices require a year or more of concentrated study before they get to a point where they’re ready to make objects disappear.  You’ve been studying two months with much traveling.  The Library…” Tauster trailed off and looked about suddenly.  Then he smiled at Jallarzi.  “No matter.  You’re talented and it’s been a pleasure to teach you.”

Jallarzi smiled at the wizard but kept silent.  If she noticed or wondered that the mention of the Library made Tauster worried, she made no comment.

Tauster stood up and walked to his worktable.  “At any rate, you and your companions found quite a trove here.  The bow, the bolts, the shield, and the four swords have simple enchantments of strength and accuracy.  The enchantments on the flail, the crossbow, and chainmail are stronger.”  Tauster shrugged at the assessment, clearly uninterested in the named items.  

“These two rings are protective in nature.  The silver one will provide a minor deflection against attacks.  The iron ring is slightly stronger though and it has a property that I’ve been unable to identify.”

“This ring and the cloak are the true treasures though.  The ring will prevent any magical paralysis while worn and the cloak grants the power of winged flight on command.”  He touched a piece of paper next to the cloak.  “I’ve written the command word here.”

Tauster then touched the pair of steel bracers lying on the table.  They were plain looking armbands with some sort of traceries on them.  If one looked closely enough however, it could be seen those traceries were actually arcane script that covered nearly the entire surface of the bands.  A look of lust flashed in Tauster’s eyes momentarily.  “These were the most potent items you recovered though.  Wearing these will protect you as if you were wearing chain mail armor.  They’re hideously expensive to make and I’ve only seen stronger ones once before.”

Finally he gestured towards the four steel vials the group had recovered and shook his head.  “I don’t really know what these are.”  He admitted.  “Whoever drinks one will be more susceptible to controlling effects like a Domination spell, but I don’t have the resources to tell more.  All in all the bandits you found were extraordinarily well equipped.”  Unsaid was how troubling such a thought was.  

By this time Jallarzi had stood up and was standing next to the old wizard.  “Thank you.”  She said feelingly.  “We appreciate your time and effort.”

Tauster waved his hand.  “It was simple really and you and your companions paid for the materials and time.”

Jallarzi looked down at her feet and traced one of the cobblestones idly with her boot.  “I wanted to talk to you about that.”  The sorceress said it in the off-handed way of someone approaching a subject they think is touchy.

Tauster was old enough to have heard that tone of voice before and he was no fool.  It didn’t take him long to see where Jallarzi might be heading.  Instead of reacting though he just cocked his head.  “How so?”  He asked.

Jallarzi looked up from the floor and into her new master’s eyes.  “I was hoping you could teach me the Identify spell.”  She admitted.

Tauster looked at her for a long moment.  “Why ever would I do that?”  He asked with some incredulousness.

The sorceress smiled winningly.  “Because you like me?”  She hazarded.

Tauster snorted.  “I do, but your business is represents good income for me.”  He waved his hand at the village outside his cottage.  “You don’t think _they_ pay very well, do you?”  He shook his head.  “It helps me eat, but the components I need are expensive.  Why should I give you the spell when it means my livelihood?”  

Jallarzi thought about it.  The spells were expensive she knew, if only because of the bloody pearl.  Truth be told, his premium for casting the spell wasn’t that expensive given their newfound wealth.  But it rankled.  “We could always take our business elsewhere.”  She pointed out.  “Blasingdale has a Library.”

Tauster almost imperceptibly froze.  When he next spoke, it was slow and deliberate.  “I have to admit I wouldn’t like that.”  He admitted.  “Perhaps we can compromise.”

Jallarzi cocked her head to the side.  “Go on.”

“I’ll sell you the spell, think of it as one last fee that might see me through the year.  I think three hundred gold lions would be fair.”  He waved his hand at the pile of weapons.  “One of those would easily pay for it if you don’t have the money.”  

The white-haired wizard paused a moment to allow Jallarzi to digest that, then he continued.  “Additionally I want your oath that you won’t use that spell for anyone else around here.  Identifications are part of my livelihood.  I don’t want to see that threatened.”

Tauster didn’t know how much money the party had recovered from the bandits.  If he had, he might have asked more.  Instead Jallarzi thought about it and when she spoke it was with deliberate thought.  “I think I can agree to that.”  She said finally.

_Thus it was agreed.  Within two days Jallarzi had a new spell in her spellbook, though none of the pearls to actually cast the spell.  On her forearms, Jallarzi wore the enchanted steel armbands, while the iron ring graced her left hand.  Kestral wore the ring that granted protection against Holds and Ashimar wore the bat like cloak of the dead Treshan priest.  Kellron had one of the magical swords at his side and bore the enchanted shield (recently painted to cover the original markings).

When the party left Thurmaster the next day, they headed westwards towards Milbourne, unsure of what to do next, but determined to do it in more comfortable surroundings.  There were rumors of trouble up near the Eel-hold and they had yet to go back to the Garlstone Mines.  Perhaps they could even go to the Hardlow Forest and look for Lyntern’s Gleaming Glade and the treasures lost there.  For his part, Kellron threatened to buy the Hounds and Tails from its current owner, if only so they would have a decent place to stay when the party came through Thurmaster._


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## Seravin

*Three weeks and counting.*

No new update, but I thought I'd let people know I'm still planning on continuing.  Work has been a bear - we've entered into planning for next year's budget and that's been taking some time.

Hopefully in the next few days I'll have something though.

-seravin


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## Seravin

*Trouble in Milbourne*

_Latina.  The Imperial Mother. Patroness of the Empire. The Defender.  Beyond the Imperial Coronet, her symbol is a blue kite shield bearing an upright, flaming bastard-sword.  It is said that the Imperial bloodline can be traced to Latina herself and thus draws their right to rule directly from the goddess.  

Those who have a more cynical frame of mind see the religion as nothing more than the noble’s justification of their divine right.  To some extent these cynical folk are correct.  Divine right is a tenet of the church to be sure, but with Divine Right comes Divine Responsibility and that responsibility is the enforcement of Imperial Law.  

Thus while there is a church to Latina in virtually every village, town, and city, the responsibility of the church is to the citizens.  Firstly, the church is a source of schooling for those villages that do not have an Imperial Herald available to teach.  Secondly, when asked, the church provides the role of advisor to the local ruler or community leader.  Finally, in times of need, the church is a place of refuge for those who are in harm’s way.

The County of Haranshire holds only one formal church, which lies within the village of Milbourne.  By rights, the forty year old Lafayer should have been appointed to the post when the previous priest had died this past winter.  However Lafayer had a wanderer’s heart and whole-heartedly supported (insisted on) the ascension of Semheis to the post.  Semheis had been an assistant to the last priest and thus had experience with the local folk, argued Lafayer.  This left him free to travel amongst the smaller holdings of the County which contented Lafayer just fine.

It also suited Semheis.  A church posting at his tender age of twenty-five was prestigious and it boosted his ego quite a bit.  In his heart though, Semheis knew that he received the posting not so much on ability as luck.  The knowledge made him somewhat sensitive so he compensated with a near-rabid zealous pursuit of his duties.  Consequently Semheis wasn’t well liked by the folk of Milbourne, but it was hoped by the more patient folk that time would mellow him._

Night lay full upon Milbourne with the silver moon, Jola, hidden by a scattering of clouds.  If the weather continued then there might be a light by the morning.  It was the middle of summer and it was almost quiet in the sleepy town.  Still the shock of learning that there were goblins to the south in the New Mire (_”And it was caused by magic, you know.”_ spoke the locals) had given the village quite a bit to talk about.  So much so, that the loss of Jelenneth was almost forgotten by all but those closest to her (_”Such a fey child.”_).

The church of Latina lay on the north edge of village, along the road that led to the Carmon Mines.  The one-story church was made almost entirely of stone quarried from the mines, with a two-story tower attached to it.  The gardens out back had been the prize of the old priest (_”Robbard.  Now there was a priest.  He was patient.  Such a nice man.  Tch.”_) and he had worked hard to make it a nice place.  He had succeeded to and the garden was still a popular trysting spot for young couples.  Unknown to most though obvious with a bit of though, Semheis (_He’s in such a hurry.  I know Latina is looking out after us.  He never lets me forget!”_) had since started maintaining the garden himself to honor the old priest.  Behind the garden was the village’s graveyard, a quiet restful place.

Semheis himself lived in a small bedroom in the back of the church.  As suited his nature and perception, the dark-haired, hawk-faced young man kept his bedroom as spotless as he kept the church itself – to better show an example.  With the moon high and his duties done the young man was fast asleep in his room, retreated from his frustrated mis-understandings with the people of Milbourne.

Being on the edge of town there were no dogs to bark at the presence of the seven strangers who strode openly down the road that led into town.  When the light of the stranger’s lantern fell upon the church, Semheis began to toss in his bed.  

When they reached the church the strangers stopped.  One of them, smaller then the rest, glided forward almost silently and inspected the front door.  It took a few minutes of fumbling, but within a minute the small stranger had the simple lock on the door opened.  Inside, Semheis began to sweat, fearful dreams stealing upon his sleep.

The largest of the seven strangers, standing almost nine feet tall, growled low with impatience.  All but two of the five more human-sized strangers took an involuntary step back.  Of the two, the one in robes growled himself and the tall one subsided.

Semheis woke with a start and sat up in bed, panting.  His sheets were soaked.  His breath slowed and steadied as he recognized the familiar surroundings.  Something was wrong though.  He could feel it.  The young man got out of bed and padded over to the door.  Mounted on the wall next to the door was his shield and sword.  By tradition all priests were given some training in weapons – enamored with the legends Semheis had taken extra training with the blade.  His hand was on the hilt when the front door of the church creaked opened.

As quietly as he could, Semheis pulled the blade down and opened his bedroom door.  Quietly he moved down the small hallway to the curtain that separated his room from the worship area.  Carefully he pushed the curtain aside with his blade and peered into the church.  It was dark and quiet.  There was also a slight breeze.

“Latina defend.”  He intoned with a blessing, then concentrating further he invoked a blessing of light and the tip of sword began to glow.  With a deep breath the young priest shoved the curtain fully aside and stepped into the worship area.  By the light of the blade he took a quick look around.

To his left was the altar, apparently undisturbed.  To his left…

Semheis started.  Two men flanked the door, one dressed in well cared for splint mail, the other in dark robes.  The dark robed one bore the iron-gauntlet symbol of Tresh, dark-lord of tyrrany.  So startled by the sight, Semheis didn’t even notice that the entire doorway was filled with the lower half of some brutish form.

For a second nobody moved, then invoking a cry for Latina Semheis charged forward.  He knew his death was upon him but it was going to cost the bastards dearly.  With inhuman speed the armored man quick-stepped forward, interrupting Semheis’s charge.  The fighter’s sword batted at Semheis, trying to disarm the priest.  It almost worked but by the grace of Latina he kept a hold of his blade.  Semheis was unable to return the favor.

Interrupted, Semheis tried to attack the armored man, but found his blade turned aside with every stroke.  Idly the priest noticed that the fighter had unkempt, red hair and a mad look in his dark blue eyes.

Semheis heard the black-robed man beginning to intone.  “Not in here, you bastard!”  Yelled the priest.  “Keep your foul god out of here.”  Semheis’ command was not heeded.  Suddenly all sound ceased about Semheis and the fighter.  

Desperate, Semheis considered retreating until a child-like figure came up from behind him wielding a club; a warrow, also known as a halfling.  The warrow moved quickly from his hiding spot and jumped up one of the pews to gain height.  Semheis was completely unprepared for this attack and his shield was facing the menacing fighter in front of him.  The club lashed out and snapped across the young priest’s head.  He crumpled slowly to the ground, the world going red then black.

_The black robed man moved to the doorway and looked out, shooing the hulking brute out of his way.  “Get the boy.”  He ordered the two other men standing outside.  “Give him to Fulnak here, then come back and help me.”  He smiled evilly.  “We shouldn’t leave the church’s treasure’s unguarded after all._


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## Seravin

Ooof.  Four weeks and no post.
Apologies to those who read, but this isn't a post either.  I have one started but other things call.  I'll see if I can post an update by Friday.


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## Seravin

*It’s the Choices That We Make*

Kellron and his four companions rode towards Milbourne in high spirits.  They had left Kupier’s farm that morning, having overnighted with the older Imperial Scout and his wife, Delilah.  The older couple had treated them with grand hospitality and they themselves had shared the good news that Oleanne was safe.  For the last few weeks the wild-child had been watching tunnels deep in the woods and had been killing any orcs that had dared to come out.

Kupier had found the idea of tunnels running from Broken Spire to just south of his farm troubling, but with the orcs contained and the bandits of Broken Spire defeated, he seemed content to leave them alone for now.

In the light of the morning sun the only choices that lay before the small group was what were they going to do next?  Lyntern had tried to entice them with stories of the Gleaming Glade in the Hardlow Woods; there were the massive portals underneath the Thornwood itself; there were even the rumors of the lizardfolk still living in the Shrieken Mire.  With the sun full up in the sky all the choices looked to promise adventure.

The light-heartedness was soon broken.  Barely an hour had passed since they had left Kupier’s farm and trouble approached in the form of a young man riding a horse.

Burrel rode the young drafthorse as fast as he dared, the urgency of his message foremost in his mind.  The young, dark haired man was second son of one of the farmers just outside Milbourne.  He and Da had arrived in Milbourne that morning to pick up some items at Rastifer’s.  Da needed a new bit for his horses and Ma wanted some of the pickled eels that Rastifer always seemed to have on hand.  Da had put the errand off as long as he could, but he had finally run out of excuses.

Milbourne was in disarray when he and Da had arrived.  Someone had broke into the church two nights before and the young priest, Semheis, was missing.  Garyld, the old lame carpenter had followed tracks northward to the old mines but had come back this morning with stories of an ogre working with me.  With his old war injuries Garyld had said he we would need help.  Thus Burrel had been drafted that morning and sent eastwards to Kupier’s farm.  Everyone knew that Kupier would be helpful.  Afterwards his orders were to go on to Thurmaster and try and find the mercenaries that had fought the river bandits and had negotiated with the goblins of New Mire – they could be helpful.

His mind whirling with all that he had learned, Burrel nearly rode his horse into the five riders coming westward.  Two of the riders expertly moved their horses out of the way though and Burrel passed with a  “Sorry!”  as a hooded woman with an exotic accent yelled out “Watch where you’re going!”

Burrel was fifty yards down the road when memory caught up with reality.  He pulled his horse to a stop and trotted back.  “Wait up!”  He called.  “I have a message for you!”

The five riders pulled their own horses to a stop and let Burrel ride up.  The young man sized up the riders as he approached.  
There was the large man who had easily gotten out of his way who was obviously a soldier, wearing a polished, if somewhat battered, chain shirt.  At his side was a sword and a shield was hanging from his left arm.  
The other one that had moved her horse out of the way was a young girl. _<No.>_  He corrected himself.  _<A young woman – pretty too.>_.  She was dressed in riding leathers and had a serviceable looking sword at her side and a crossbow secured to her saddlebags.
Behind that pair was the hooded woman.  Burrel could just see a strand of white hair sticking out from under her cowl.  Unconsciously the woman ran her hand up replace the stray lock of hair.
Next to her was a young man also dressed in leathers with one of those fancy swords at his side.  _City-folk_ was Burrel’s first thought and he moved onto the final rider who was bringing up the rear.
The man was an elf.  Or at least a part elf, Burrel couldn’t be sure.  The elf was dressed flamboyantly in leathers dyed black and he had a harp case strapped across his back.  Noticing that he had an audience, the half-elf sat a little straighter and smiled easily at the young man.

“What can we do for you?”  Asked the half-elf easily.

“You are the mercenaries that spoke to the goblins in New Mire and fought the bandits on the river?”  Asked Burrel.  He was fairly certain they were, but it was best to ask.  

The soldier frowned.  “I wouldn’t call us merce…” He started.

“Yes.”  Said the small woman next to the soldier.  “We’re the ones.”

“Then you have to come quickly!”  Ker Semheis was kidnapped two days ago and Master Garyld needs help!”

Kellron leaned forward.  “Tell us what happened.”

_<So much for a commission.>_ Was the thought from at least one person


----------



## Seravin

*Garlstone Mine*

The Garlstone mine had been played out for over six decades.  A few diehard men and dwarves had kept at picking at its depths even after the owners had pulled out, but it was barely enough to keep them fed and clothed.  Old miners are forever filled with optimism about the next big strike though, especially when they pass rumors amongst themselves that so-and-so (like Old Grizzler) had struck it rich.

It wasn’t until about thirty years ago that the Carman family founded their mine much closer to Milbourne that the work for miners started to pick up again.  Eventually time passed and most people forgot about the mines.  Except Old Grizzler, the old dwarf’s memory was long and in the interest of more ale and a small fee of 5gp he had drawn a map of the mines for Panther almost two months ago when they had first inquired about it.

The two-page map was a rough affair.  It had no scale on it and each of the many chambers of the mine was given some name or another.  (“The first page,” explained Old Grizzler, “is where ye’ll be entering.  The second is where the profit use to be.  Don’t be mixing it up.  And you won’t be finding any riches.  There’s a reason why it’s abandoned after all.”)

The Flitch of Bacon, so called because of the ruddy bands in the walls that reminded the miners of their favorite breakfast food.

The Dream Cave where it was said that miners who slept there would dream of the woman they would marry (“Utter nonsense.”  Muttered the old dwarf.  “Old Grizzler took a nap there once, cause I was tired you know, and I never had no dreams.”).

Just beyond the Dream Cave was the Queen of Souls Pillar.  The pillar looked like a collection of pipes for some majestic organ.  Trickling down the multi-colored mineral column was a slow, steady drip of water.  Niela, Lady of Healing, was said to watch over miners here, and if a miner spent a night praying here he would be cure of whatever ailment he had.

The Cat was so named for  for a rock formation that looked like the head of a cat.  (“Although in _my_ day we called it Pargenter’s Cat.  She was an outlaw that use to hide in the mines before Milbourne was properly built up.”)

The Poached Egg Chamber was just a wide spot in the tunnel with many stalactites that had formations at their tips that looked for all the world like eggs broken open.

And the Grand Cascade was a massive chamber whose north wall looked like a giant waterfall frozen in time.  (“It’s from here ye’ll find a shaft that goes to the mines below.  That’s where we really started to mine the good stuff.”)

-------------------------

Ashimar crept silently through the entrance tunnel that led to the Flitch of Bacon on the map. This was his second trip through and he was well warded with spells cast by Jallarzi.  Invisibility was his first defense as well as a spell that granted him the vision of a dwarf. 

His first foray in had shown him where the ogre was half-napping and he had found the camping gear of what at first had seemed like two small children – or halflings.  He had quickly looked in on the Dream Cave and had found it empty.  Wisely he had gone out to inform his friends of what he had seen and then had volunteered to come back in first again.  The others would wait a slow count of thirty and then follow.

Once Ashimar was in the main cavern proper he stopped and listened.  There was a snort and he heard the massive ogre move and yawn from where Ashimar had left him.  
The street-rogue grimaced and padded silently towards the noise.  He soon saw the ogre who was lazily scratching himself.  The ogre was a massive creature standing almost nine feet tall and had to have weighed almost a half a ton.  Ashimar eyed the club next to the creature warily.  

_<Nothing ventured…>_  He thought to himself as he waved his invisible hand in front of his face.  

It was a quick fight.  More of a slaughter really.  Ashimar may have started out as a street rogue but for the last two months he had been training along side Kellron, an Imperial trained soldier from the Old School of training – where soldiers learned or they died.  Ashimar was a much better fighter now.  The ogre, Fulnak, on the other hand was big and he was strong and that’s all he was.  

Ashimar’s first attack under invisibility had wounded the creature sorely in spite of its thick hide, but it wasn’t enough to kill it.  More blows were traded after that.  It wasn’t a fair trade.  Ashimar still took one of the club hits in the chest but his armor absorbed some of it and he rolled away from the rest.  Ashimar was still able to hit the creature two more times however and eventually felled it after he took a second glancing blow.

Kellron and the others came up as Ashimar rummaged through his pack and was pulling out a flask marked with Niela’s healing symbol.  “We heard a shout.”  Said Kestral.

Ashimar raised a finger as he downed the potion.  “Those things have really thick hides.”  He explained as he felt the rush of healing while skin and bone knit themselves together.  “I couldn’t quite get it with one hit.”

Kellron hefted his sword.  “We better go see who was alerted then.”


----------



## Seravin

Well - that was embarrassing - I think edited over the first post instead of replying.    

That was pretty silly.  It's all fixed now though.  Apologies if there was any confusion.


----------



## Seravin

*Further into the Mines*

It was in the chamber of the Poached Egg the ambush occurred.  Kellron and the rest had delayed themselves too long searching the corpse of the ogre and looking in the side chambers.  That had given Tinsley and Caswell time to go get help.  

Both Tinsley and Caswell were cousins and of the race of warrow, or halflings as the humans called them.  While quite friendly amongst their friends and family, neither halfling thought much of humans or their ilk and were not bothered by helping a band of humans kidnap others.  All they cared was that the coin was good and the job as lookout in an abandoned mine was easy.

Caswell had been close enough to hear the assault on Fulnak and had quickly crept back to warn his cousin upon witnessing the attack.  Tinsley had then hurried as fast as his little legs could carry him to the mines below to warn the other mercenaries.  It didn’t take long for two of the brigands to make their way up while another one went to warn the boss.  Even still the two halflings and the two humans didn’t have much time to setup.  They were barely in position when the light from the torches came into view.

The Cat was a huge, knobbed rock formation that in the dim, flickering light, looked very much like the head of a housecat.  The stone was the same brown stone seen elsewhere in the mine, but it was further crusted over with mineral deposits.

Kellron and Ashimar were in front with Kestral and Jallarzi following and Panther was in the rear.  All had their weapons out (even Jallarzi had a staff in hand) and were anxious at the least little sound.  Their light was from the large, clear crystals that Kestral and Kellron wore about their necks – an enchanted, flicker flame danced in the heart of each crystal.

Panther had the map in his hands, his elven vision allowing him to read in the dim light coming around Kestral’s body.  “The tunnel forks just ahead.”  He whispered.  “We want to go right.  Watch…” The twang of crossbow strings and the whistling of bolts cut off panther’s whisper.  One of the bolts shattered against Kellron’s shield but the second one clipped Ashimar low on the leg.  

“Sarath!”  Called out Kellron, raising his sword high.  The attackers were hidden in the darkness just ahead, but that didn’t stop him from charging forward.  Ashimar followed just behind.  Another pair of bolts cut through the air before either of them saw their attackers; this time Kellron was just clipped while Ashimar escaped unscathed.

Before another set of bolts could be shot however, Kellron and Ashimar made it to the narrow spot in the hallway, dominated with the mineral encrusted stalactites and stalagmites.  The two brigands had already determined that they didn’t have time to ready another volley and had drawn their swords, intent on using the stalagmites as cover.  

Cautiously, Kestral, Jallarzi, and Panther moved forward trying to see how they could help.  Against the backdrop of steel and curses up ahead, none of them heard the quiet padding of soft boots on rock, coming from the side passage they had just past.

“Take one alive!”  Shouted Kestral.  “Maybe we can learn something.”

One went down under Ashimar’s blade at about the same time.  “Not this one.”  He commented.

“Aaaahhh!”
The shriek of pain came from Jallarzi who was trailing just behind Panther and Kestral now.  The half-elf sorceress was holding her side, a little stunned.  Both Kestral and Panther turned and saw a grim looking halfling standing behind the woman, holding a bloodied shortsword.

Panther and Kestral reacted almost simultaneously.  Panther dropped his map, pulled out an arrow and let fly with his shortbow.  Despite the halfling being so close to Jallarzi, Panther hit – perhaps a testament to his elven heritage.  Regardless, the halfling did not drop though he did curse. 

Kestral maneuvered around her sorceress-friend and managed to flank the little backstabber.  The halfling managed to lash out at Kestral as she moved around him, but his blow didn’t land hard enough to cause significant damage.  Kestral used Jallarzi as a distraction however, and her return blow combined with Panther’s arrow nearly dropped the halfling.

Jallarzi took a step back and fired off a pair of magic missiles at her attacker.  For a moment it looked as if the halfling was going say something.  Instead he dropped to the floor, his last thoughts unheard by anyone.

There was a thud and a grunt of satisfaction from ahead of the three and they all turned to see Kellron and Ashimar standing over the crumpled form of one of the bandits.

“Let’s tie him up and question him.”  Suggested Kestral.

_Fifteen minutes later the five companions made their way through the huge vault known as the grand cascade.  Ashimar spotted something moving along the cave’s ceiling, but it was not in their direct path so they gave it a worried eye and made their way down the dark shaft that connected to the lower levels.

Upon waking, the bandit had willingly spoken on any subject they cared to name – sadly he didn’t know as much as they wanted but he had known more than enough.

Their map of the lower mine was still good and with this defeat, the majority of the bandits were now defeated.  However there were still the leaders, and the bandit spoke of them with a hushed voice.  First was Shilek, a grand priestess of Tresh.  Shilek was strong, powerful, and decisive and no one dared cross her.

Next was her lieutenant, Imrin.  The bandit spoke of him with considerably less fear.  He was a wart-nosed, grasping, bootlicker.

Finally there was Ramors, their boss.  He was the leader of the mercenaries and it was his decision to work for Shilek.  He was strong and fast and it was the bandit’s opinion that the little group didn’t stand a chance.  

Viewing their captive tied up on the floor before them, the group didn’t think much of his opinion.  Instead after a short lecture on the deserved fruits of evils from Kellron and Ashimar, the group promised to come back for him when they were done.

It was only well after they were gone that a small dark shadow crept out from the side tunnel. _


----------



## Seravin

The Fight in the Mines
_Later, when asked about his adventures, Panther would recite what he and has companions had seen.

The Blue Garl Cavern – where the largest and finest garlstones had been mined.  Even played out, there was still a glimmer of blue crystal here and there about the cavern walls.
In the back, was an adjoining cave that was now flooded.  A giant moray eel lived in these black waters.  Kellron had very nearly been pulled under, but it had been a tough fight.  

The Dome – Another vault of a cave now flooded.  In the center of the flooded cave was a pillar that looked like some gigantic mace.  Kestral’s keen eyes were the first to spot the body floating in the water, just barely in sight.  Using the powers granted to her by the Lords of Water, she had walked across the surface to retrieve the body.  Along the way she had been attacked by crayfish the size of a small pony.  Fortunately Kestral was quick and was only wounded a little bit before she drew the giant lobsters into range of her friend’s missile fire.  The body turned out to be the body of some unknown mage who had been infected with some wasting disease.

Fairy Land – The walls of this cave were filled with such colors that it was easy to see why the dwarfs spent their time under so much rock.  The hues were vibrant and many.  The stories say that the miners could sometime hear the faeries carving their way up from below.

The Crab Petals – A cave that looked like the inside of a massive geode.  White, spiky protrusion grew from the walls, looking like crab claws.  Lairing within were two 
insects the size of bull-mastiffs.  They shot a curiously strong line out to capture prey and drag them near.  These things had manage to ensnare Ashimar with one such line, but the young bravo had charged the creature instead.  The fight was only mildly interesting.

These were the names on the map drawn by Old Grizzler the dwarf. _

The five companions now stood in the Chamber of the All-Hearing Gods, a glorious name given to a rather non-descript chamber.  The miners thought that things whispered here would travel to Latina herself.  Panther thought that the miners had been underground too long.  In the end the only thing of interest about the chamber was the tunnel leading out the far side.  According to their map it wound through about forty feet of rock and opened into a cave called The Grand Cavern.

At the mouth of this tunnel had been four guards, wearing dark robes with the hoods up and standing as still as statues.  They had turned out to be zombies, created from the bodies of some unknown mercenaries.  The five friends had easily laid the animated corpses to rest.

-------------

Kestral had been gone a long minute.  Her companions viewed her return with relief.
“They’re there.”  She told her friends.  “Just as he described.”  Kestral continued on before anyone could smile.  “Except there’s another person with them; another of the mercenary flunkies I think.  They know were here.”

“Crap.”
Kellron looked at Kestral.  “Think we can take them?”

She shrugged.  “Maybe.  I’m not sure.”

It took the five friends a few minutes to come up with a plan.  It wasn’t elegant but it would have to serve.

_Later when asked, Panther was able recount only this about the fight.

“It was a long fight.  I recall that much at least, even two years later.  We were all pretty proficient; Jallarzi even knew the spells for invisibility back then; but our foes were stronger.  Shilek invoked a prayer at some point and I think she managed to paralyze Kellron at some point – but I’m not so sure about that anymore.  It probably didn’t happen else we certainly would have died.

Ashimar was the first to engage Ramor, the brigand leader.  Of that I am sure for Ashimar heard Ramor speak magic words that activated magical boots of speed.  Kellron had to have helped in that fight though.  Ramor was a fast brute and used an enchanted bastardsword.

The two priests, Shilek and Imrin were protected by six zombies.  Things got tight because of them.  It certainly seemed like more at the time.  They just kept coming and we couldn’t get any room to catch our breath.  I think Kellron might have scared them off.  Maybe not.  

When we got too close to Shilek she levitated up near the ceiling with her own magic boots.

At the end of it though, we were still standing and our foes weren’t.  Except Ivrin.  He got away in the darkness; probably by using one of those darkvision potions we found.”

Here Panther would smile a bit.  “But the treasure and the glory were fantastic.  That’s where they got the magic hut you sometimes hear about.  Ashimar claimed Ramor’s boots for his own and Kestral claimed Shilek’s boots.  For herself Jallarzi claimed an enchanted staff that was the embodiment of winter; I often think that was the start of her obsession.  For myself, I claimed Ramor’s magic bow.  There was no history behind it that I could find, but it was my first magic weapon.

We also found another cache of fish-smelling potions, something I think Shilek was feeding Ramor.  And a key.  I mustn't forget that we found a second key that very nearly matched the one we had gotten from Broken Spire.

Unfortunately we didn't find Semheis, the reason we had gone into those mines and we were too wounded to follow that damn priest.  We decided to leave and come back another time.

Ah well.  Memory isn’t always reliable and there are certainly many other things I do remember.”_


----------



## Seravin

*Welcome to Corlean*

_Five days had passed since the foray into Garlstone mine.  The kidnapped Semheis was not found but a lair of Treshans had been routed.  It was a mixed victory at best but no one felt up to pursuing the Treshan who had fled from the fight.  The constant fighting had left them wounded and short on resources and no one knew where those dark tunnels led.

Instead the decision was made to head back to civilization and stock up on supplies – and that didn’t mean Milbourne.  Rastifer’s trading post was all well and good, but they needed more specialized goods and the items they had captured over the last two months would give them the means to purchase them.  

It had taken only a short while to sort through the stuff of the defeated Treshans.  There hadn’t been much in the way of coin and only a modest amount of jewelry considering the banditry they had been engaging in; but the amount of magic was disturbing.  Ten items radiated magic of varying strengths – the most intriguing of which was a miniature ceramic cottage.  According to Jallarzi, the little model radiated a strong aura evocation magic.

Best of all (or was that worst of all?), they had found evidence that the missing Jelenneth had passed through those caves. One of the bandit guards had worn a silver signet ring that had the letter ‘J’ inscribed on the inside of the band.  Kestral was sure that the ring matched the one described to them by Andren.

That night in the Baron of Mutton with barely restrained grief, Andren had confirmed that the ring was indeed the one he had given Jelenneth.  Further a blue cloak that the party had taken from the body of the Treshan priestess was also Jelenneth’s.  It seemed that the young apprentice mage was indeed gone.

Afterwards they had to decide where to go.  Blasingdale was closest but in the end they decided that the town was too small.  They had a small arsenal of magical weapons to sell and they all had their reasons to go to a bigger city.  In the end they decided that Corlean would be a better choice.  It was only four days away from Milbourne by horse and they would be able to stop by Thurmaster and have Tauster identify some of the captured magic items (Jallarzi now had the ability to do so but she lacked the pearls to actually cast the spell).

Thus and then, some four days later the five friends found themselves approaching the City of Silver, Corlean._

The Laren Mountains define the easternmost boundary of the Shtaran Empire.  Like most of the mountains on the continent, the peaks are high and are nearly impossible to cross except at a few passes.

Towards the northern end of the range a branch of the mountains splits off and runs westwards for nearly four hundred miles.  This daughter range is appropriately called the High Mountains and in the last three hundred years only one navigable pass has ever been found.  If there are any other paths through these mountains no one has seen fit to share it with others.  If a traveler doesn’t wish to go through the mountains for some reason they can travel westwards and go around the far west side of the range.

On the other side of these mountains is another two hundred miles of forest and tundra before a traveler makes it to the North Sea.  Also on the other side of these mountains are some of the richest producing mines known to the Empire.  Some three hundred years ago the Empire sent its own colonists north to find, open, and work new mines and found that the native barbarians were not appreciative.  In the course of protecting their colonists the Empire also annexed the few free city-states that already existed in the north.  

The city of Corlean actually started out as a military outpost to field the troops that were to head northward to protect the colonists.  The outpost was built at the mouth of the south side of the pass just in case the raiding barbarians decided to head southwards.  In time the outpost grew to a town and then to a city.  

The city was named Corlean after the first commander’s daughter.  In time the city gained another name, ‘The City of Silver’, after the trade routes between the north and south became established. The city also serves as the seat for Duke Devon Hilmaron who oversees the duchy of Larence.

As can be seen, Corlean is many things to many people.  For the five travelers who arrived in the late afternoon of late summer, Corlean was a rest stop from a long summer of fighting; a place to relax and a place to rearm.


----------



## Seravin

*The Days in Corlean*

_Where to begin?  That’s a heck of a question.
Perhaps at the front gates…_

The sun wasn’t down yet, but it wasn’t going to be long before darkness overtook the city for another evening.  Fortunately there was no line at the gates of the city as the five friends approached.  They had purchased a wagon in Thurmaster and loaded it with their captured weapons and armor and camping gear.  In the morning they hoped to sell the gear and convert their jewelry and coins to something a bit more manageable.

“Anything to declare?”  Asked the gate guard as he looked over the travel worn group.

“Like what?”  Asked Kestral, leaning forward a little and giving the guard her full attention.  There was nothing provocative in her movement or her words, just a simple gesture to appear friendly.

The guard smiled at the young woman and answered her question good-naturedly.  “Trade goods mostly ma’am.  Wheat, cloth…things like that.”

Kestral shook her head.  “We don’t have anything like that.”  She carefully did not mention the half-dozen magical weapons and the suits of magical armor laying in the back of the wagon under their packs.  Nor did she mention the gold and jewels.  After all, he hadn’t asked about those.  Instead she continued on.  “We’re coming up from Thurmaster to do some shopping.”

The guard looked over the three men and two women and shrugged.  He’d never been to Thurmaster, but he had heard it was little better than a hole.  It seemed a little odd that anyone in Thurmaster could afford the weapons and armor two of the men wore; they were probably hired mercenaries.  It never occurred to the gate guard to question Kestral’s story though, she was so open and honest that she was obviously trustworthy.

He reached to his pouch and pulled out some leather ties.  “The Empire’s laws still apply here on the border – you’ll have to peace-tie those weapons while you walk around with them.”  He looked at each of them in turn.  “You won’t need them while you’re here though so I suggest you leave them at whatever inn you decide to stay at.”

Kellron met the guard’s gaze.  “Can you recommend one?”

The guard looked Kellron over.  “The Scabbard is popular with the quiet types.  If you don’t mind hanging out with Sarathian officers who are stopping through.”

Kellron smiled.  “That would be fine I think.”

“You can’t miss it then.  Take this road on through to the Central Square.  The Sword House will be the big temple on your right; it will be flying the dragon standard.  The temple on the left is Latina’s.  The Scabbard will be this side of the Sword House.”  The guard paused and then remembering where they were from added, “Don’t mix it up with the first square you come to, that will be a little market square for the caravans.  You’ll know when you make it to Central Square.”

“Thank you.”  Said Kellron as he nodded his thanks.  With that the five friends entered Corlean, a city of twenty four thousand people.

_The first night was almost uneventful.  Except for the excesses of course.  There’s always the excess.  In addition to the many magical items and the various pieces of jewelry they had recovered, the five had also recovered several thousand lions worth of coins.  

After they had found and acquired rooms at the Scabbard, the group decided to do a bit of shopping before it got totally dark.  A random street urchin was more than willing to show them around for a couple coins and that’s when the spending started.

Afterwards was the dinner.  Not just any dinner, but an evening meal.  After months of trail rations and watching what they ate at the Hounds and Tail in Thurmaster, only the best meal available for money was acceptable – with wine of course.  For over two weary months the five had traveled back and forth across Haranshire; they deserved their reward.

Later that night after the damage was totaled, it turned out that between the five of them they had spent almost five hundred golden lions.  Some of those bottles of wine were expensive. Not bad for five newcomers to the big city who checked in at one of the better inns in town (and got their own private rooms)._

The new morning brought a flurry of activity.  Jallarzi announced her intention to head to the Library Embassy in town and apply for membership.  Panther waved his hand vaguely and said he was going to take a look about town and see what was up.  Kellron and Ashimar both went to Sword House to meet with the priesthood there.  They hoped that the priests or the commanders would be willing to buy the enchanted arms and armor, only the temples or the city guard would have the coin to afford it.  Kestral decided to go with the two men just to make sure they didn’t just hand over the items as a gesture of ‘good faith’.



_Jallarzi easily made her way to the southeast corner of the city where the Library stood, acting as an embassy for the Library to the Duke of Corlean, a waypoint for wizards traveling north, and a university for the children of those who could afford it.

The main building of the Library (and no matter in which city a person is in, the embassy is always called ‘the Library’) was a square, three-story structure made of gray granite and white marble.  The steps and the area in front of the double darkwood doors were of the exquisite white marble, as well as the wide columns that lined the front area.  The grounds were green and immaculately kept with a polite sign that asked for people to stay off the grass.  Rumor had it that the grass would eat anyone who rude enough to ignore the sign.

The side buildings were somewhat smaller, only two-stories tall and made of the same gray granite.  The walkways between the buildings were paved with the same stone as the building and were well worn with use._

Taking a deep breath Jallarzi marched herself down the path and went up the marbled stairs to the front door.  Like the Library in Blasingdale, the front doors had a brass doorknocker mounted on them, though the one here was in the shape of a dragon's head, with the actual knocker mounted under the mouth.  The eyes of the brass dragonhead blinked at here as she waited expectantly in front of them.

Finally the knocker spoke.  “Yessss?”  It hissed.

Jallarzi took another deep breath.  “I would like to speak with somebody in charge.  I’d like to become a member.”

The knocker blinked at that.  “Waaaaiiit.”

It was only a short wait before the blank brass eyes blinked again, though Jallarzi had the uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched.  “Insssside.  To the left.  Wait there.”
With that the two doors started to swing open. 

Jallarzi nodded smartly and made her way inside, following the directions and found herself in a small, comfortably appointed sitting room.  Oddly, she noted a smell reminiscent of the seaside.  The white-haired sorceress settled herself down to wait.  At least the chairs were comfortable.

Eventually an older woman made his way into the sitting room and Jallarzi quickly stood.
The dark-haired woman looked over the young half-elf with a critical eye.  “Good morning.  You may call meMaster Wymeah.  I understand you wish to join the Library?” She smiled encouragingly and motioned for Jallarzi to sit as she did the same.  

Jallarzi sat and nodded.  “I do.  I’ve gone as far in my studies as I can and I feel that I need access to more formal training methods.”

The woman seemed a little taken aback.  “Do you mean to say that you already have some magical training?”

Jallarzi nodded.  “I do.”

“I see.”  There was a long calculated pause.  “May I ask how you received your training?”

Jallarzi paused for a bare moment.  “A wizard named Tauster has helped me most recently.”

Master Wymeah leaned back in thought.  “Tauster?”  Suddenly recognition lighted in her eyes.  “Oh yes.  An older wizard with the Library?”

Jallarzi nodded.  “That’s right.”

Master Wymeah smiled pleasantly.  “I do believe we have lost track of the man.  Do you mind telling me where he now lives?  For our records you understand.”

Again Jallarzi paused for a longer moment this time, what she considered is known only to her.  Finally, the young woman spoke.  “Thurmaster.”  She said.

Master Wymeah nodded again.  “Oh really?  That’s good.  I’ll make sure our records get updated.  Now then, as for you, let’s see how much he managed to teach you.”

_Jallarzi easily past the tests in basic arcane knowledge and spellcraft use.  Master Wymeah was impressed with Jallarzi’s knowledge and skill and after a full day of testing agreed to admit the young wizard as a senior apprentice on remote duties (after the tuition fees were paid of course).  Jallarzi spent the next several days getting to know the other apprentices, perusing the library, and learning a few more utilitarian spells – though she was frustrated that the Library wouldn’t give her access to the more advanced battle spells.

Additionally, Jallarzi passed on the rumors of the kidnapped spellcasters and what she and her companions had learned in past two months.  Once it was learned that they were going back she was immediately enjoined to continue keeping the Library updated on their progress._


_For his part, Panther wandered the streets of Corlean, picking up bits of knowledge and rumor and story like a sponge picked up water.  Most excitingly, he learned that the bard known as Imych Thassel was going to be in town shortly.  Panther had heard of the bard in his travels as the most recent winner of the Kerian College semi-annual Hunt; a contest where senior students are sent out into the world to find certain enchanted instruments.  Imych Thassel had won his harp the previous summer. The young half-elf hoped that he would get a chance to hear the bard play._



_Ashimar, Kellron, and Kestral made their way easily to Sword House, as it was only two streets up from the Scabbard.  After a half a day of dealing with various functionaries and junior priests they managed to gain a ten minute audience with Colonel Beka Megara, the second in command for the Order of the Victorious Dragon.  They audience was gained in no small measure due to Kestral’s verbal skills._

Col. Beka Megara was an older woman in her late fifties.  Her hair had originally been black, but was now a uniform steel gray and she filled the red and black uniform of her order like a sword fills a sheath.  A sense of strength radiated from her lean form and dark gray eyes.  She was not a woman to be trifled with.

She stood to greet the three friends as they were shown into her office.  “I understand you wish to see me.”  She greeted them politely if disinterestedly.  “You’ll understand that I’m a busy woman though and I can’t spare much time.”  The colonel smiled wryly.  “Despite the good impression that you made upon my orderly.”

Kestral and Ashimar looked to Kellron.  “Thank you.  We do understand you’re busy and appreciate the time.  Have you heard about the troubles in Haranshire?”

“Bandit trouble, if I recall correctly?”

“Almost.  Kidnappers really, who are targeting wizards.”

The colonel’s eyes widened just slightly.  “I see. I may have to spare more time than I thought.  Please sit and tell me all you know.”

_It didn’t take long for Kellron to fill the colonel in on their activities of the summer.  They told the good commander of the goblins living in the hills east of the New Mire and their involvement with the investigation of the kidnapping of Jelenneth.  The colonel’s mouth went tight at the mention of bandits working out of Broken Spire Keep.  Her lips went practically white at the mention of the Treshan priests leading the bandits._

“Thank you for this information.  I’m to understand you are heading back to Haranshire?”

Kestral saw her chance and nodded.  “We are, but we decided to come to Corlean to inform you folks and to stock up on supplies.”  She paused delicately.  “Also, we managed to salvage some items that we felt the church might find useful.  We are hoping to sell them but thought it would be fair that the church get first crack.”

The good colonel found herself liking the irrepressible young woman almost immediately, in spite of herself.  She could recognize a sales pitch when she heard one but the woman really was quite charming.  “Go on.”
_<dm’s note: I believe Kestral’s player rolled a 19 or 20 on the diplomacy check.>_

“We have several pieces of armor and some weapons for which we have no use for but are all enchanted in some way, verified by two separate mages I might add.  Would your order have a use for these?”

“We just might.  I’ll have a word with my orderly when you leave.  He’ll be able to lead you to stores and they can determine if anything you have would be worthwhile to us.  There’s some trouble brewing up north and it’s likely the additions would be useful.”

The colonel looked at all of them.  “The reason I ask if you’re going back to Haranshire is that I would like to see this matter concluded.  The thought of Treshan’s operating within the heart of the Empire is not acceptable.  Unfortunately I do not presently have the manpower to send an adequate force to Haranshire to root them out."  The colonel paused and nodded with respect at the three.  "You folks appear to be doing an excellent job however and I would like you to continue.  In return the church of Sarath can offer you aid as well as possibly buy anything you can salvage.”

Kestral let out a slow breath.  This was going better than she had hoped.

The colonel continued.  “Now is there anything else?”

Kellron and Ashimar both started speaking at once.  They stopped and then looked at each other.  Ashimar nodded to Kellron.  “You first.”

Shrugging, the young warrior of Sarath turned back to the older woman.  “As I was introduced, my name is Kellron, I’m a lieutenant in the Order of the Sundering Sword, or at least I was as of about two-hundred years ago.  I ask for help in getting word to my Order.”

_The room became quiet for a very long moment and all eyes were suddenly centered directly on the paladin in a mixture of disbelief and shock.  In the end it took almost an hour to verify Kellron’s claims.  Fortunately, as second in command of her own order Colonel Megara was able to Commune directly with the Celestial Host which verified Kellron’s claim. Unfortunately the Order of the Sundering Sword had been disbanded at the last battle Kellron had attended.  There were too few survivors of that battle to continue and the Order’s namesake had been lost.  It seemed that Kellron was the last surviving member of his Order. _

“And what did you want?”  Asked Megara, looking at Ashimar when they were settled back in her office.

Ashimar looked about hoping that she was speaking to someone else and then straightened up.  “My life hasn’t been very good.  I grew up in the streets and I wasn’t exactly the best of people.”  He nodded towards Kellron.  “However I’ve seen what good people can do and what they represent and I want to be one of the good guys.”  Ashimar looked at Colonel Megara with complete honesty.  “I think I have a calling to join the church and I would like to join your order.”

The colonel’s mouth quirked.  “I…See.”  She considered her words.  “You realize that many people think they have a calling for the priesthood, but not many have the strength to see it through.  The priesthood of Sarath requires a fair amount of discipline.  First and foremost we are a church of soldiers.”

The former street rogue nodded.  “I believe I do have a calling and that I have the strength to see it through.”  Ashimar smiled.  “I’ve got good examples.”

“That you do.  However I think a test might be in order.”  The colonel considered a moment or two before speaking.  “A test of discipline.  From what I’ve heard today you’ve had a hard life and have learned to depend on yourself.  However in the church we learn to depend upon each other.”  

She looked at Kellron.  “Lt. Kellron, it is my intention to elevate you to a captaincy for services done in the name of the faith.  With it comes a knighthood and with a knighthood comes a squire.”  She looked back to Ashimar.  “If you truly think your destiny lies with the church I will appoint you to be Kellron’s squire throughout the next year.  You are free to leave his service at any time, but if you do you will not be accepted into this Order.”

Ashimar stood.  “I understand and I accept.”

She nodded.  “Good.  I thought you might.  It is my sincere hope that you prove worthy and earn Lt. Kellron’s recommendation.


_The rest of the week passed mostly uneventfully.  Kellron and Ashimar spent their time at the church and Kestral made her way to the Library district to find sages versed in languages.  Eventually she found a tutor who spoke a smattering of giantish and she managed to convince him to teach her what he could in the few short days she had.

All in all, it was a good trip for the young heroes.  Except for their last full day in town.  That day wasn’t so good for Kestral._


----------



## Seravin

Just a note to let folks know I'm working on the next update.  Hopefully by tomorrow at the latest.

Just out of curiosity I know a couple of my players are reading this SH, is anyone else still out there?


----------



## Capellan

Well I don't know about anyone else, but I'm still reading


----------



## Seravin

*Leaving Corlean*

_And so it came to pass that the Order of the Victorious Dragon proudly announced a Day of Celebration within the city of Corlean.  It was to be a day of welcoming and thanksgiving as a son of the lost Order of the Sundering Sword was returned to the Empire.  As the last member of his Order he would be knighted and given a captaincy.  If the namesake of his Order was somehow found again, then he would be in line to lead._

_For those who were interested the rumors were curious and full of wonder.
    A two-hundred year old _human _ walked the halls of the Sword House.
    A knight, frozen by magic, had returned with great secrets of the past.
    The same knight had evidence against a centuries old plot of the Library.
    etc…_

_Those who were less interested ignored the rumors and sighed heavily at the added burden of a city full of celebrating soldiers._

-------
_Kestral Thendry, step-daughter to a semi-prominent Relkian family could be described as independent.  When she was but a small child her parents were killed in a terrible and suspicious fire.  The local church had deemed it the work of witches*.  It took only a little while for the witches to be found, tried, and executed (albeit in a highly informal manner).  A pair of witch-hunters who had settled in the community and were active supporters of the church of Latina took in the young Kestral.

Kestral rarely speaks of Relk and actively avoids bringing up her childhood.  It can surmised that she was unhappy though.  The day the young woman turned eighteen was the day she borrowed a family horse and ran away.  Kestral worked her way northwards earning money as a courier, using her natural charm and her gift for languages to facilitate her new occupation.  Her only criterion was that the job took her away from Relk and her memories.

Kestral wasn’t a bad person, nor was she misunderstood (except when she wanted to be).  However Kestral wasn’t necessarily a good person either._

------------

The ceremonies of the Empire of Shtara are long, detailed, and sometimes convoluted; which isn’t surprising considering that the Empire has existed for several hundred years and includes relations (and kinship) with many of the longer-lived races.  

The promotion ritual used by the church of Sarath takes about an hour for a relatively simple bump from Lieutenant to Captain.  There are the invocations to Sarath himself, the oaths to the church and to the Empire, and a detailed list of the duties and rights expected.  

The Rite of Knighthood (what the public sees) is similar but lasts almost two hours.  There are the prayers and invocations of course, with the litany to Sarath being about half the ceremony in and of itself. 

It was about halfway through this ceremony, towards the end of the final invocation of Sarath, that Kestral’s boredom finally overcame good sense.  It was a long morning and it had started way too early as she was called to witness for her friend in one of the pre-ceremonies.  Afterwards she had been escorted to the main-hall where the public ceremony was to take place.  The young woman decided to ditch her escorts and took a seat near the back in case she wanted to leave early.

It hadn’t been her best idea.  Being a small woman she soon found as the people filed in that she could barely see over the people seated in front of her.  Frustrated, the young courier had moved herself to the edge of the pews where she could look around the soldiers seated in front of her.  

Kellron and Ashimar were both on the dais.  Kellron was kneeling before Colonel Megara and answering some question or another, while Ashimar was dressed in the white tunic of a squire, standing off to the side.  According to the priest who had explained the protocol, Ashimar would have his turn of kneeling and answering questions thrown at him.

Kestral sighed.  _Bored.  Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored._  Kestral shifted uncomfortably again on the hard bench and looked about wistfully.  It was the middle of summer and the church was packed full of people.  She was a child of the southlands, but the room was too stuffy.

_I’m going to fall asleep._  She thought, looking around again.  _Do these people really believe all of this?  What’s wrong with saying something like “Do you promise to protect and serve, or whatever?” and Kellron saying “Yeah, sure.”_

Kestral looked around again and her eyes fell upon the man in front of her.  He was an obvious soldier and he spoke the loudest of anyone when the priest up front called for responses.  _This place is stuffy in more ways than one._  Thought the woman.  _It’s bad enough that I can’t see over him.  Look at him.  Sitting there ramrod straight like there’s a pike where it ought not to be.  Just stuffy.  Maybe if I could see through him I’d be more interested, but nooooo.  He has to sit there all straight like so I can’t see._

Kestral looked around again and noticed the pouch at the solider’s side.  It was of some dark leather and looked well constructed.  It also looked pretty fat.  Kestral grinned.

While she was growing up she had spent some time with her uncle until her step-parents had decreed that he was a bad influence.  He wasn’t, not really, but he had seen Kestral’s long, nimble fingers and had thought it a crime that she not exercise them.  Kestral had diligently practiced the sleight of hand tricks her uncle had taught her and could competently perform several street magician tricks.

Kestral looked around a bit; coolly as if nothing was wrong.  The only other person on her bench in the back was at the far end, and no one was looking at her.  The priest up front was saying something to the crowd again and the crowd was responding back.  _The guy probably deserves it._ she thought to herself.  _Besides, I’ll probably give it back when this over.  I’ll look like a hero or something, returning his lost property._

Another look around showed that no one seemed to be looking at her.  Kestral casually inched forward in her seat and reached forward.  The soldier suddenly shifted and Kestral jerked her arm back.  Coolly, her eyes darted quickly around and her hand snaked forward again.  Her hand was on the pouch when a much larger hand clamped down on her arm.

“Eeep.”  She whispered.  

One of the guards was standing over her, having come up from behind.  He looked at her coldly.  “We don’t appreciate cut-purses here.”  He whispered menacingly.

Kestral batted her eyes and tried her best innocent look.  “He dropped something and I was just putting it back…”  She tried.

The guard shook his head.  “The Colonel will want to speak with you.”  Said the guard, grinning in an almost evil-like manner.  “If you’re lucky she’ll ship you off up North to be a soldier.”  

The soldier Kestral had tried to rob had caught part of the conversation and had turned around.  “Something the matter seargent?”

“Yessir, Lt. Jared.  I caught this little woman trying to get into your pouch.”

The lieutenant’s hand went to his pouch.  “I think I will go with you to see the good Colonel then.”

------

It was the end of a very long day and Kestral was trying very hard to shrink into the hard backed chair in Col. Megara’s office.  “I was booooorrrred.”  She said.  It was a pathetic defense, but the only thing she could come up with.  “I wasn’t going to take anything really; just a trick.  If the ceremony had been shorter I wouldn’t have done anything at all.”

The grey-haired colonel looked at Kestral in stony silence.  Internally she was conflicted.  She honestly liked the little woman.  She was too slight to be a soldier, but she had a fire that could be useful to the church.  

The colonel’s hand’s tapped rhythmically on the table before her.  “By rights I should have you in jail or doing community service.  If I wanted I could even have you inducted into the army and shipped up North to pick up a little discipline.”  She let the words sink in.  “I’m not going to do that however and for the life of me I don’t know why.”  The colonel nodded at Kellron who was standing silently in the corner.  “Captain Kellron over there says you’ve been useful to him though over the last two months and wants you to continue on.”

The colonel turned her attention to Kellron.  “I’m placing her on probation in your charge.  If she does anything illegal you are to report it back to the church.”  The colonel then looked back at Kestral.  “Additionally, if you are caught Kellron will suffer additional penalties based on the crime you committed.  This probation will last one year.  You can consider it the only warning you will get.  Do you understand?”

Kestral gulped and sat up a little straighter.  “Yes ma’am.”

Kellron nodded.  “I understand.”

“Good.  I understand you’re leaving tomorrow.  Good luck.”

It was an obvious dismissal and Kestral stood up, relieved to be getting out of there.  Kellron came to attention and saluted.  The pair exited the colonel’s office quietly.


_* Those who practice psionics are called witches.  The witchcraft talents generally run to second-sight (clairsentience) and mind-reading (telepathy).  Witches are not generally trusted by the populace but they enjoy the same protections as everyone else – except in Relk.  The Relkian’s are extremely biased against witches._


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## Seravin

Capellan said:
			
		

> Well I don't know about anyone else, but I'm still reading




Cool.  
I haven't been updating as often as I'd like and I keep sinking to page 3 or so within just a day or two.  I'd curse Piratecat, Sep, and Destan, but then it might stop them from posting.    

Ah well.  Thanks for responding Capellan.  It's good to know this isn't wasted.


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## Seravin

Would you like a peek behind the scenes?

My players, stay away.  Shoo.  Move along, there's nothing to see.  

All others can go here to see a few villains that the party has yet to meet.


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## rangerjohn

Here's another reader, keep up the good work.  I generally lurk, but you seemed like you could use some inspiration.


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## Seravin

rangerjohn said:
			
		

> Here's another reader, keep up the good work.  I generally lurk, but you seemed like you could use some inspiration.




I appreciate it.    

Unfortunately I need time more than I need inspiration these days.  I'm on a new contract which is causing its own problems.  Add to that the holidays, lots of recent snow, and finishing up the conversion for the third book and there hasn't been a whole lot.  

That said, you did provide a bit more inspiration which pushed me to spend some of that time writing again.  Thank you.


----------



## Seravin

*The Country Cottage – Early Fall*

A much subdued group arrived in Thurmaster two days later.  The trip to Corlean had certainly been of mixed results.  On the sword hand Kellron and Ashimar had gained a measure of fame and recognition from within their chosen order.  On the shield hand Kestral had gained them a certain amount of notoriety within their chosen order.  

The young woman’s plea that she hadn’t meant anything wrong and that she was just bored did not put ‘the incident’ in a better light.  Kestral knew with a grim certainty that she would not be allowed to forget this minor lapse of judgment, despite no one getting hurt by it.  Sometimes life just wasn’t fair.

Tauster changed the mood of the group almost instantly when he answered the door and saw that it was them.  The old mage was excited, positively jumping from foot to foot with an excitement that more befitting a ten year old boy.  The smile that he gave the five friends matched the sparkle in his gray eyes. “Ah, my friends!  It’s good to see you at last!  How was Corlean?”

The last question was obviously rhetorical and Tauster breezed on by before anyone could properly answer.  “That’s nice.  Glad you liked it.”  Finally he noted his own manner and the mage straightened up a bit. “Ahem.  Concerning the items you left with me…”  The mage trailed off.  “That is to say…”  He trailed off again and then smiled broadly.  “The Planes with it.  Hold on, we’re going out.”  The mage disappeared inside his cottage for a moment and came out again carrying an old, brown sack.

“Here it is.”  He said holding up the sack as he closed the door behind him.  “We best leave the village for this.  It wouldn’t do to scare the natives as it were.”

The five friends looked at each other in askance and shrugged, unsure what to make of the elderly mage’s manner.  It was Jallarzi who spoke up first.  “So, what did you find out?”

Tauster smiled with mischief.  “This and that.  The usual you know.  The boots were as you described and I have the command words written down.  One pair will levitate the wearer and the other pair will hasten a person in battle.”  He waved his hand with a dismissing gesture.  “Toys really, though the manufacture of such things is always interesting.  The weapons and armor you recovered were also interesting, if only for the strength of their enchantments.  You don’t see that many enchanted armor or weapons these days.  Certainly not of this strength.”  The old man smiled and hummed a little bit as he led them to the gate in the palisade that surrounded Thurmaster.

Jallarzi looked at the others.  “I take it we’re not heading out because of that?”  

Tauster smiled to himself, pleased.  “Not at all.  Those items are ready for you at any time.”  

Jallarzi pursed her lips and looked at her companions.  They just shrugged and they came to an unspoken agreement to see where this was going.

Tauster nodded pleasantly to the gate guards as his little expedition passed them and he led the party down the road that led to Corlean.  “We’re not going far, just out of sight.”  He told his entourage.  “It wouldn’t do to get anyone too excited.”

Eventually the village palisade drifted out of site as the group followed the road around a bend and past a small copse of trees.  Tauster looked about and harrumphed with satisfaction.  “This will do.”  He said and led the group off the road and into a little open meadow.  Opening the sack, Tauster reached in and pulled out a hand sized object and proudly held it up for inspection.  

The little hut was about six inches square and on first inspection looked to be a six year old’s first attempt at making a little house out of clay; an attempt which someone had immortalized by firing the clay into ceramic.  The walls were mostly straight, though mottled.  A little wooden slab formed the door and the two windows had smaller bits of wood acting as shutters.  On one side of the little house was a chimney that ran more or less straight up.  The roof was peaked and someone had made the attempt to form shingles, though some were missing.  If the model had been built full size it undoubtedly would have collapsed in on itself.

Kestral sniffed at the artistic merit of the cottage, but she was also sure that the seventy-something mage would not have taken them on the small hike to show off bad sculpture.

“So what does it do?”  Asked the courier.

Tauster smiled appreciatively at the young woman.  It was the lead in that he wanted.  “This is quite simply one of the most amazing things I have ever seen.”  He paused in thought.  “Well, not the most amazing, but certainly it ranks up there.  More importantly, it’s what is in this little cottage that had me pleased.

“What’s that?”  Asked Kellron.

“I’ll show you.  Stand behind me.”  Ordered the mage. “Watch carefully.”  He admonished the others as soon as they stepped behind him.  “This is simply marvelous.”

The old man inhaled a little bit, as if he were beginning the intonations of a summoning spell.  “Krizek!”  He called out in a strong, clear voice.

For an instant the world immediately around Tauster seem to warp and shimmer.  Everyone had to blink as the malformed ceramic hut in the mage’s hand ‘shifted’ and grew.  The hut fairly leapt off of Tauster’s hand and within the space of three heartbeats he stood on the front step of a rather respectable looking stone cottage.

Ashimar whistled and they all took a slow walk around the newly formed building.  The cottage was about twenty feet long and had the same width.  The roof started up at eight feet and peaked at ten.  Like the model, this particular cottage had a window on each side that adjoined the front.  Also like the model, there was a chimney on the left hand side, near the window.  Unlike the model, this cottage had a sturdy feel to it and looked quite cozy.

Tauster looked at the little group smugly.  “I told you.  Now come inside.  So saying, Tauster opened the door and stepped inside the single room dwelling.  It was obviously set up for a barracks style living.  Four bunk beds were lined up against the back wall, running into the room.  At the foot of each bed was a sturdy chest.  In the free area off to the right was a large, wooden table, scarred from use and surrounded by six wooden chairs.  A little kitchen area had been setup in the free area to the left, next to the fireplace.

Kellron nodded to himself.  “This is nice.”  He said, looking around.

Tauster nodded in agreement.  “It certainly is.”  He agreed as he walked over to one of the chests.  With a creak and some cracking, the old mage knelt down.  “This is better though.”  He declared as he opened the chest.  

Stunned silence was his only answer.  Thousands of coins filled the chest.  Kestral could make out coins of silver, gold, and platinum.  She did a quick summation in her head, estimating the volume of the chest and the size of the coins.  The number was large.

Tauster pulled a small leather pouch off the top of the coin pile, and spilled the contents into his hand.  A dozen small gems filled his palm.  

“I had a late night and couldn’t sleep.  As near as I can tell you have about fifteen thousand in coins.”  He looked briefly at the gems and put them back in the sack.  “I don’t know what the gems are worth, but I’m certain they’ll add to it.”  With a grunt the old mage stood up and walked to the back corner of the room.  There was a scrape of something against stone and Tauster came walking back to the front area with a staff made of a milky white crystal.  The head was topped with an unusual looking crystal that for all the world reminded Ashimar of a snowflake.

“This is the masterpiece of this little ensemble though.”  Proclaimed the mage.  “A staff of frost, Library made.  It doesn’t have a lot power left, but I can swear that it’s an authentic Library commission.  I have the list of command words written down already.  
There was also a scroll and some of those noxious brews stored in here.”  Tauster looked about.  “I take it you’re pleased?”

_Pleased was too slight a word to describe the party’s joy at the amount of treasure recovered and the hut and the staff.  The haul was astounding.  Kestral appraised the gems at around 2,400gp – a value she was pleased to later find out was only a little low.

As for the hut, the only downside from the party’s perspective was that it was usable but three times per seven-day period.  They all agreed it would make their adventuring a lot more comfortable though.  Sadly this demonstration had used the cottage up for its allotted period.  The party took the news good naturedly though and gladly paid Tauster for the additional identifications he did on the staff.

Ashimar claimed the boots of speed and Kestral took the boots of levitation.  For her part Jallarzi claimed the staff of frost and carried it proudly.  For the time being, as the unofficial treasurer, Kestral kept custody of the cottage.

The next morning, with an admonition from Tauster *not* to be caught in the hut when it was reduced the party set out for Broken Spire Keep, and from there to go see the great doors under the earth._


----------



## Mista Collins

It is always good to read a story hour for a campaign I am running right now. I enjoy it greatly. My players are farther along, but that is because they take it on like a SWAT team. Keep up the interesting story hour.


----------



## rangerjohn

Yes, another good read.  I also am taking mental notes for when I run the adventure myself.


----------



## Seravin

rangerjohn said:
			
		

> Yes, another good read.  I also am taking mental notes for when I run the adventure myself.




Thanks for the praise.  It cetainly helps in trying figure out how to allocate my time.    

Here's another post - and I'm hoping to get another one out over the weekend.  Be warned, they're a little experimental, so please bear with me.


----------



## Seravin

*A History of Recent Events*

_ Two years ago I had the opportunity to start running Night Below with a group consisting of some new and old players on Sunday while I ran the Adventure Path series of modules on Thursday.  It was only natural for me to make some plot connections.  

It is about here in game time that the players started hearing rumors of the events in Blasingdale.  Kestral had learned the first few bits while in Corlean, the party learned of the later bits after they arrived in Blasingdale again.  Those who are familiar with the Adventure Path series may notice a certain blending between Blasingdale and Brindinford.

For now, to setup the next few posts, here’s a letter that explains some of what happened to the Thursday group.  Trust me, it all relates._ 

-------------

*To: The Emperor’s Herald
     The Imperial City, Kalta

From: Herald Dorun Twicoast
     Herald of Blasingdale to the Baron Euphemes II

Re: The events occurring over the Summer Festival
     In the 32nd year of the Emperor Jaz’aldrin’s reign*

Sir,
Greetings,  
As promised from the last correspondence, here is a more comprehensive report on the events that happened in the city of Blasingdale over this past Summer Festival.  The information was gained by interviewing all the surviving parties.

Of the many starting points I could choose, I will follow the events from the band of mercenaries who were instrumental in discovering the various menaces and ultimately freeing Blasingdale from the grip of the horror that visited us.  If I wax poetic, please forgive me – it is merely relief.

As I reported in my Spring Festival report, Ker Althon Lordan (of the Lordan trading house) had come into possession of a blade bearing the mark of the dwarven smith Durgeddin and a stamp indicating it was forged in the halls of fabled Khundrukar – the redoubt that Durgeddin founded to attack the northern orc tribes.  As I speculated then, if the blade had been found on our side of the High Range that might mean there would be some hidden route to the north side

Because of his passion for old weapons, Ker Lordan immediately began hiring for mercenaries to scour the area from whence the blade was found.  It didn’t take him long to find his mercenaries (at 500 gold lions for each recovered blade) from a little village called Oakhurst some days journey west of Blasingdale.

The mercenaries (see attached report) eventually found lost Khundrukar, some thirty miles north of Blasingdale.  While the top level was inhabited by orcs the mercenaries managed to deal with them handily and indeed explored the entire complex within a period of a month – they even brought back the remains of a dark dragon.  While I don’t approve of them selling off bits of the creature for money they undoubtedly earned the right to choose their own enemies.  

The mercenaries also brought word back of a number of deep-dwelling dwarves who were using the ancient forges of Khundrukar to make weapons to face an oncoming horde of orcs.  Unfortunately there was some sort of mis-understanding and the mercenaries came into conflict with these dwarves.  The one dwarven survivor managed to convey that a horde of orcs were threatening his clan, but the mercenaries were unable to gather much information from the deep-dwarf before they let him go.

It is about this time that the streak of ill-luck began to affect the city.  

Firstly, Ker Merdick Forren, the city watch-captain, disappeared a day before the Summer Festival began.

Secondly, there were the survivors of the conflict from the winter events in Widdenbred Dale.  A band of were-rats infiltrated the city and began to make trouble – deliberately attacking the merchants in the center of Market on the first day of Festival.  Ker Lordan’s mercenaries happened to be nearby that day however and managed to route the creatures.

Next, Master Kiel of the Library and Baron Euphemes had strained words – which forced Master Kiel to close down the Library of Blasingdale.  It seemed odd at the time as Master Kiel is normally a very calm and rational person.  Undoubtedly the creature was affecting his judgment.

Soon after, there was another monstrous attack in Southgate, a poorer section of town.  A play was interrupted by monstrous blind orcs that apparently had no problem seeing despite their lack of eyes.  The orcs were again routed by Ker Lordan’s mercenaries.  I should also mention that the kidnapping of the priests of the Temple of Sarath occurred at this time – only to be partly thwarted by the mercenaries.

Finally (or so it seemed) there was the summoning of the fell-aberrations in the midst of town.  Again the mercenaries were on hand to defeat the creatures, who eventually traced it back to a cabal of renegade sorcerors (see the cabalist report) who were apparently responsible for the hiring the were-creatures to cause the terror in Market Square..

I’m ashamed to admit that at this point I was starting to believe that these mercenaries had some small responsibilities in these activities.  Always they were near the monstrous events just in time to thwart them.  I spent far too much time investigating the mercenaries trying to find out if they had arranged the attacks to gain the city’s trust – my only excuse is that I am paid to be suspicious.

To be fair I was able to quickly discern the systematic isolation of the city’s power centers.  I forgot to factor in Hyla’s Luck though.  As unlikely as it seemed, the mercenaries were on hand for each of the events purely by happenstance; an indicator that the Gods are looking out for us in my mind.

It was then that word was brought back that the halls of Khundrukar were again filled by orcs – a veritable army of them filled the ancient dwarven halls and the surrounding hills and woods.  Given the recent turmoil in the city, Baron Euphemes decided to send a delegation to the orcs (which caused some consternation amongst the mercenaries – specifically the elven archer-woman) and negotiate some sort of short-term peace until the Duke of Corlean could decide upon a more long-term strategy.

Two days later the true nature of the horrors that gripped the city finally became apparent.  Agents of the horror first tried to assassinate the mercenaries (ironically just after a victory celebration in their honor), presumably to both remove them and demoralize the populace.  At the same time another band of agents attacked the temple of Latina, routing the priests and causing a pillar of fire to burn up through the roof.  This pillar of flame was to last several days.

The next morning, in the wake of the assassination attempt and with the threat of the orcs of Khundrukar, the Baron announced the closure of the city and declared martial law until order could be restored.  His edicts shut down the Market Square, closed the gates of the city, banned the carrying of weapons by all citizens, and called for an enrollment into the city militia.  His blackest edict was the closure of the temple of Latina, citing the unwillingness of the clergy to protect the city during these dark times.  Actions contrary to the announced edicts would bring the penalty of death.  To punctuate the last, a skeletal giant with a scorpion-like tail appeared to emphasize the point.  I have since been informed that the creature is called an osyluth and is party of the infernal hierarchy of the black hells; worse, that creature was not the only thing visiting us.

Again the mercenaries saved us and they risked not only the death sentence from the militia but the infernal creatures that now inhabited the city.  The mercenaries persevered though and bravely decided to cut off the infernal support first, freeing the Temple of Latina from the pillar of hellfire and the infernal invaders.

After making their way through the city and defeating several other hellish creatures, the mercenaries, heroes rather, made their way to the Baron’s palace.  Inside they found the Baron and the the creature I euphemistically describe as the horror.  I’m told it was a great battle where the mercenaries fought this horror and its ogre wizard and the ensorclled baron.  When it was done, the Baron was freed and the foul creatures were dead.

I've attached a drawing of the creature and we are awaiting an answer from the Mother Library to see if they will reopen the Blasingdale Library.  Their help would be useful in trying to figure out what the creature was.  The four tentacles that extend over its mouth (which is lamprey like) are capable of extending almost two feet.  Note that the large eyes are completely pupiless also.  Finally, it seemed to have some inborn witch-talents and spoke exclusively using just its minds.  From the Relkian perspective it would be a nightmare witch come true.  I hope there is no connection.

-------

Events have finally quieted down in our city, but we are still dealing with the aftermath.  Fortunately for us, the horror that called itself Ghaerleth Axom was quite verbose when speaking with its ensorcelled servitors.

Most immediately there are the orcs of Khundrukar.  They were the servitors of the Ghaerleth creature and had been brought to re-inforce its position.  The deep-dwarves that the mercenaries met were wiped out by the orcs and their master and their halls are also occupied by the orcs.  At best guess there are over two hundred of the orcs spread between two dwarf-defensible halls.  However the Khundrukar halls have a known back passage.

The orcs do seem amenable to negotiation however.  They are quite glad to be free of the influence of the creature and are disinclined to follow the deep tunnels back to their own lands.  They seem open to a path of peace for now, and given the reports of the increased threats north of the High Mountains, I believe it would be best if the Corlean forces concentrate their activities there.  True, the orcs will only strengthen their position in their captured halls, but I am starting to believe that these orcs have lost their taste for conflict.

The next worrisome item is actually the most troubling.  Apparently the Ghaerleth creature was raving towards the end.  It claimed to be _fleeing_ from the depths of the earth.  If the creature’s claims can be believed, it feared its brothers and their allies.  Ghaerleth was building its own position of power in an effort to eventually confront its brothers attempts at dominating some unspecified vast area.  

As we know from the dwarves there are large sections of tunnels and caves beneath us – how deep they go, how extensive they really are, we don’t know.  I fear we may find out though.  Ghaerleth’s notes indicated some long range plans against the Duchy of Corlean entire.  What kind of threat was Ghaerleth preparing against that it needed a Duchy’s resources?  Unfortunately not one of us can answer that question.

Almost as troubling was the creatures that desecrated the temple of Latina.  They were led by Treshan priests.  We still don't know how the Ghaerleth creature met with the priests of Tresh or what deal was struck.  Unfortunately the corpses of the priests have refused to answer all questions from magical inquisitions.

Our final issue invloves the left over creatures from the infernal invasion.  We believe all of the devils were killed or banished.  However there are still reports of hell-tainted animals roaming the forests nearby and I fear there may still be a hell-tainted snake of legendary proportions beneath the city.  The mercenaries confronted the creature while hiding from the Barons’ forces but only just managed to escape with their lives.  I will contine to keep an ear out for mysterious disappearance in or near the sewers.  

Loyally,
Dorun Twicoast
Herald of Blasingdale


----------



## Seravin

I've made a couple minor changes to the last post.  Some editorial, but someone noted that I never actually gave a description of Ghaerleth and I left out one other minor detail.


----------



## Destan

Seravin said:
			
		

> The mercenaries (see attached report) eventually found lost Khundrukar, some thirty miles north of Blasingdale.  While the top level was inhabited by orcs the mercenaries managed to deal with them handily and indeed explored the entire complex within a period of a month – they even brought back the remains of a dark dragon...




I was sitting here reading and I kept thinking, "Man, these names sound _familiar._"  But I couldn't place 'em.  Then, of course, I remembered this module.  It's the only pre-packaged one I've run in 3E, and my players and I enjoyed it immensely.  I think so, at any rate.

I had to chuckle when you mention your own PC's selling off bits of the dragon.  If I recall, I think my guys were unable to kill the brute.  He's a tough little bugger, especially in his own environment.  Kudos to your players!



> Unfortunately there was some sort of mis-understanding and the mercenaries came into conflict with these [deep] dwarves...




Can't wait to see if this "conflict" has reprecussions for the soon-to-be joined (?) party. 

I envy you and your two weekly sessions of gaming, Seravin!  Good stuff!

D


----------



## Seravin

Destan said:
			
		

> I was sitting here reading and I kept thinking, "Man, these names sound _familiar._"  But I couldn't place 'em.  Then, of course, I remembered this module.  It's the only pre-packaged one I've run in 3E, and my players and I enjoyed it immensely.  I think so, at any rate.




Heh.  I have fond memories running those first three modules, picking them apart and making them fit in my world.  It didn't really take a whole lot of work to make it fit either.  The designers did good.



			
				Destan said:
			
		

> I had to chuckle when you mention your own PC's selling off bits of the dragon.  If I recall, I think my guys were unable to kill the brute.  He's a tough little bugger, especially in his own environment.  Kudos to your players!



Well, to be perfectly fair I probably didn't do the creature as much justice as it could have received.  It was not a B.A.D.D. performance, but he was young and over-confident and territorial.  Still even knowing there was some sort of dragon down there the players had to work for it.



			
				Destan said:
			
		

> I envy you and your two weekly sessions of gaming, Seravin!  Good stuff!



Thank you!  Praise is always good and praise from a writer whose works I read is just that much better.  

It's an ugly week so far at work so the next update is going to be slow in coming, but I'll try and have it by Friday.


----------



## Seravin

*Legends of the Orcs*

_What is an orc?  Who you ask defines the answer you receive.  
Ask many of the religious leaders in the Empire of Shtara (at least amongst the faiths of Latina and Sarath) and you will be told “Orcs are what happens when the forces of evil twist the forms of man and dwarf and elf”.  
Ask a soldier who protects the northern communities against the occasional raids and hear “Savage, murderous beasts.  If you find a dead one then it’s a good start.”
A compassionate person might wax “Creatures who were twisted in the beginning, but who still think and still have souls…souls which can be redeemed”.

There are other points of view of course, not the least of which belong to the orcs themselves.  Only a few orcs have the time or the wit to consider such questions though, survival is usually tough enough._

Within the fallen dwarven stronghold known as Khundrukar, there is a vast cavern that the dwarfs first named “The Glitterhame”.  Phospherescent patches glimmer faintly along the walls and ceiling while man size mushroom and puffball-like fungi cover the floor.  An earthy smell of decaying and growing things fills the cavern.  
With the sight granted the depth-faring races the cavern is both grand and solemn; a place within the earth that is almost holy.  For those who bring the light of fire and magic the cavern fills with an almost celestial radiance as the light dances from the exposed crystal formations.

Centuries ago it was within The Glitterhame that the dwarfs of Khundrukar grew their food and on occasion gave thanks to Mother Tasa for the variety of the earth’s bounty.

Now it is within The Glitterhame that the orcs of the Spiked Skulls continue to grow their fare of fungus to supplement the times when meat is scarce.  The females and the children live within the great cavern, providing the food for themselves and the warrior-males.  It is a simple life but not particularly harsh in and of itself, and the females teach the young the traditions and stories and of their tribe.

It came to pass during the winter of Emperor Jaz’aldrin’s 32nd year that the orcs under Khundrukar learned of new stories.  Tales of the strength of the orcs under the earth were told as well as the tales of the trickeries and lies of the dark masters.  Perhaps most importantly, tales of The Five were also told.  The Five of the Empire whose strength shattered the Bloodskull tribe and its fearsome masters.  

In the cavern known as The Glitterhame, late at night after the warriors take their rest, the witch-priestess-orc called Garundaryek will sometimes tell the tale of the shattering of the Bloodskull tribe.  She tells the tale and passes the lessons on to the next generation.

---

"The Bloodskull tribe was powerful.”  Is what Garundaryek first tells the group in her harsh, grating voice.  The hideous priestess is old and scarred, with one eye sewn shut.  There are stories that pass between the older females, but they are never repeated when Garundaryek is near, for the priestess wears the claws of Luthic, razors attached to armbands that extend past her gnarled and twisted hands.  Only the strongest of the females may wear the claws of Luthic.

When Garundaryek speaks the children and females turn from their activities to face her.  “The Bloodskull tribe was strong.”  Her yellow piercing eye seems to flash to their depth-born sight and pierce each of the listeners.  Her voice does not raise; it does not need to.

“Seven hands of warriors, strong and fit, led in battle by the great-orc Garundzer, he with the blood of an ogre.”  Garundaryek pauses briefly as if to measure her words.  “Two powerful priests bore the will of Gruumsh to the chieftan of the tribe, Ogurkek.  The Bloodskull tribe took what it wanted and went where it will.

Then the creatures came, tall and gangly like a human or an elf with skin like the bladder of an ogre – purple and tough.  Only eyes for a face with tentacles for a mouth.  The creatures came and spoke without words and the words were like lies fitted with truth.  The creatures spoke of power and the priests who spoke with Gruumsh listened, for Gruumsh honors those who take power for themselves.  The creatures spoke of favors and of gifts and Ogurkek listened, for Ogurkek wanted the powers of magic.

Weapons of power were given to the tribe and the Bloodskull warriors were soon without peer.  Garundzer bore a great spear that slew many creatures when he charged on his battle-lizard.  Likewise the chieftan and priests were given weapons of magic.”  Garundaryek snorts with disgust as she mentions the weapons.  “Beware the gifts of the tentacled things.  Soon the priests heard not the will of Gruumsh, only the will of the creatures.  Gruumsh does not care though as long as his priests are strong and in the service of the creatures the Bloodskull tribe gathered strength like a low point gathers water.

The creatures set the tribe to guard the caves of the bronze doors which led upwards to the surface.  Soon after, the humans came bearing slaves.  The slaves were for the creatures that spoke to the priests and the chieftan, but many slaves were given to the tribe.  The tribe grew fat on the slaves brought by the humans; too fat.

Even humans do not like to be over-hunted.  The human tribe known as the Empire sent their own hunters into the depths.  The great bronze doors opened to them for they stole the keys that were given to the slave-bringers.

The humans were loud and they were clumsy and there was only five.  Five humans opened the great bronze doors.  Seven hands of warriors led by the strong Garundzer and his great spear were set against them.  

The black hunting cat of human and elf blood sang a song of war and death.  I heard the words and can repeat them.  Terrible words they are and they strengthened the five with magic powers.  The woman of human and elf blood called upon the creatures of the silver skies and brought forth a fearsome wolf.  The human in metal stood within the great bronze doors and held the opening with the fast human with the steel sliver.

The humans held the door as the first two hands of warriors shot at them with the creature-gifted crossbows.  The crossbows were strong and the first the Bloodskull tribe had ever seen.  They were not enough.  As the lizard-riders drew near the human-elf woman called upon the freezing snows and a terrible storm engulfed the warriors and mounts.  It was not enough so the elfling called again.  Let it be lesson, magic has no favorites.

Five hands of warriors guarded the great bronze doors and they shattered against the single hand of the Empire tribe.  The humans are strong do not underestimate them.  The humans are many, but they do not need them all.

After the warriors of the door were slain the humans went deeper into the caves of the Bloodskull tribe.  In the cavern of the chieftan the hand of humans set themselves against the creature-led priests, the chieftan and his hand of guards.”  Garundaryek spits.  “It took the human hand longer to fight the five hands.”
The humans are blind in the dark but they bring light.  The humans are soft, but they wear steel.  Most of all, the humans are clever and wise.  Ogurkek was not clever and he was not wise.  He let the creatures think for him and now Ogurkek is dead.

The hand of the Empire tribe stood victorious over the bodies of the Bloodskull tribe.  Its slaves were taken with the gold and magic; the humans are as greedy as any ogre.  The humans also talk to things not like them – after the fight the earth creatures came and spoke quiet words with the humans.  The humans were bid to leave and come back again later.

The humans are strange.  In the last cave hid the females and children of the Bloodskull tribe.  They were not killed and not made food.  Instead, when the humans left, the survivors were taken away, for the females and children had no tribe to protect them.

That was earlier and this is now.  We belong to the Spiked Skulls tribe now.  We make the tribe stronger and we bring the tribe the wisdom we have learned.  Beware the creatures with no face for if they bring power they also bring lies.  They will bring no honor, only death.  The opponents to fear are the tribe of the Empire they will fight with steel and magic and they will kill any set against them.  _They_ are worthy opponents.”


----------



## Wynter Wolf

Very interesting perspective on that fight. I am really enjoying the perspective changes you are using when you tell the story.

Btw-I think that Ashimar Character rocks


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## RedShirtNo5

Very cool.  I like the orc perspective.  Keep up the good work!

Last night, my group managed to track Carlanis to the Garlstone mines, bypassing huge heaping piles of plot!  We stopped before the fight, since if I use the encounter as written it's a sure TPK against this group of 2nd-3rd level PCs.

-RedShirt


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## Seravin

Wynter Wolf said:
			
		

> Very interesting perspective on that fight. I am really enjoying the perspective changes you are using when you tell the story.
> 
> Btw-I think that Ashimar Character rocks





Thanks - part of the perspective change is to make up for the sparse notes I have on this period of the game, part of it is to highlight the things I know about the world.  Glad it's working.

And Ashimar is almost as modest as his player.


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## Seravin

RedShirtNo5 said:
			
		

> Very cool.  I like the orc perspective.  Keep up the good work!
> 
> Last night, my group managed to track Carlanis to the Garlstone mines, bypassing huge heaping piles of plot!  We stopped before the fight, since if I use the encounter as written it's a sure TPK against this group of 2nd-3rd level PCs.
> 
> -RedShirt




merci - 
From the sound of things the party made it to bottom of the mine and are about to fight the priests?  Ouch.  My guys were about 4th-ish and it got a little harried as I recalled.  Still, it's do-able with a smart party and if the priests are only mostly co-ordinated.

Good luck to them...


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## Seravin

*Winter’s Journey*

_Religion can be a touchy subject.  How much moreso within an empire ruled by divine right?  According to the priests of Latina, the Emperor (or Emperess when those times occur) can trace direct lineage to Latina herself.  There is no question that Latina is the supreme deity within the empire.  Fortunately Latina is a reasonably tolerant deity, concerning herself with the ruling and safety of the realm; her subjects are allowed to worship as they please within certain limits.

As such, there are some two dozen other deities recognized by the Imperial government.  Sarath (Latina’s General) of course stands highly in the eyes of the Empire, as does Eresk (The Vigiliant One).  Avia, Braen, Calith, Dyana, Elis, Fon, Hyla, Jola, Kirel, Laton, Moran, Niela, Sheelegra, Tylan, Vieta, and Vion are all respected deities within the Empire.

Other deities are not so welcome in the Empire of Shtara.  Worshipping any of the following deities will result in a charge of treason, presuming the worshipper could (would) be taken alive: Baresh the Deceiver, Dynessa of the Shadows, Lersa the Spiteful, Pars the Beast, Ruma the Greedy, Saluk the Reaver, and Tresh the Tyrant.  

What of the other entities worshipped as deities?  

What of the elven Corellon called Larethian, the Master-smith called Moradin, and the other entities given a nod of respect?  All angels, says the Imperial church.  The elves and the dwarfs do not worship in the way of humans and shrug their shoulders at the debates for there are more important things to talk about.  As for the warrow, also called halflings, no one knows much about their Hidden Lords.

And the other, darker entities?  The orcs worship Gruumsh and the goblins Maglubliyet.  Obscure texts make reference to more monstrous entities called Blidloolpoolp and Maanzicoran; demons all.  Perhaps they grant power or perhaps they are just different guises for the evil deities; but according to scripture sacred to Latina these things are not gods.  Of course some cynics might ask what’s the difference if you’re granted powers by a supernatural entity beyond your ken?  For now the answer is a matter of faith._

----

In the fallen dwarven citadel known as Khundrukar, Garundaryek speaks of many things.  The hideous crone bears the wisdom of age and a sharp tongue honed on the wheel of time.  As the Voice of Luthic, Garundaryek speaks the tales in order to pass on the laws and customs the tribe. 

Garundaryek speaks and the orcs about her pause in their tasks and their mutterings.  Now is the time of learning.  “The humans can be trusting, especially when faced with a weaker foe.”  She rasps with derision as she spits into a corner.  “This is not true of all the humans, but it is true of the Five.  The Bloodskull tribe was shattered at their feet and the Bloodskull treasures ran through their hands.  Bloodskull slaves now serve the Five and the Bloodskull tribe is no more.”  

Garundaryek gnaws on a bone for a bit as her teeth have begun to ache with age.  Soon, perhaps within the time of two birthings, she will pass on.  Today though, Garundaryek rules the cavern of females and children and not even the warriors will gainsay her word.  A flare of pain in her teeth makes her grimace briefly and she throws the bone to the side with a snarl.  Two children fight over the fallen bit of food and the shamaness grins at the tussle.

“The Five came to _me_ in the cave then.”  She raises her spindly arms, showing the bracers strapped to them.  “My claws were sharp and we stood ready to defend the children.  Then the littlest of the Five stepped forward and spoke.  She spoke orcish like a goblin, but she understood the words of strength and knew of the defense of children.”  The shamaness trailed off for a moment.  “My hope is that a warrior will someday eat her heart, for she would make a powerful wise-woman of the tribe when she is reborn.”  _’Or even a chieftan.’ Is the thought unsaid._

“Kess-tral is the name of the littlest of the Five and she bade us to make a journey through the upper darkness to the holes dug by men.  ‘Wait there through two risings of the bright orb called the sun’, she bade.  We had no where else to go so we did so.  Ogurkek could not kill them, not even one.  _I_ might have killed one, but no more than that.  Glory is for the warriors, the tribe is for the women."  The listeners around the shamaness believed her every word.

"So we journeyed through the dark passages, following the routes given to us.”  Garundaryek snorts here.  “The humans are trusting.  They told us to meet them in the man-holes, and trusted us to reach them unharmed.  I knew of the passages from the talk of warriors.  They are dangerous ways, filled with oozes and slimes, but we had nowhere else to go and the Kess-tral promised us the safety of another tribe, a stronger tribe.”  Garundaryek snarled briefly.  “A still living tribe.”  The humans were trusting but we had no choice.  The caves of the Bloodskull tribe were opened to the slimes and the jellies and we journeyed through the tunnels and arrived at last to bright, cold sky.”

One of the orc children, a young male, had won the bone prize with a yelp of victory.  Garundaryek smiled visciously and kicked him.  “Winning the prize is the not the same as keeping it.”  She warned.  As the child-orc tried to stand, his opponent - a female-child, jumped on him from behind, her little fists flailing.  The young male-orc grunted and fell down again and the female-orc grabbed the bone and fled into the crowd.

Garundaryek chuckled as the young male-orc glared at the crowd for he would not dare give her the evil eye.  He had learned two lessons for only a little bone.  It was a good day.

“The second time the sun raised itself, three of the Five met us; the witch-elf, the singing-one, and the Ash-imar-human.  When the sun was almost set we journeyed through the hills until we came to the great river.  

Humans are crafty creatures and have devised a wayof traveling upon water.  We had never seen the like in the caves below, but the wood that can burn can also float.  Remember that rivers are no longer as dangerous or impassable to the humans.  The Kess-tral and the human called Kill-rawn met us with the boats, two of them.  They bade us to get on the boats and we journeyed down the river towards the setting sun.

The humans rested at night, though they kept guard against us in case we attacked them in their weakness.  Humans are not all stupid.  When the sun rose we traveled on the waters again, huddled under blankets to shield us from the harsh sun and chilling cold.  

The chilling cold is a warning from the gods, do not ignore it.

That night while the humans rested, the gods descended upon the land, covering everything in the powdery-ice.  I was awake that night as the white powder fell from the sky.  We could have lost some of the smallest children save for the power of Luthic.”  Garundaryek looked in the eyes of each of the women.  “Luthic spoke in my ear that day and warned me of the sudden cold.  My prayers for the tribe placated her and thus we were spared.

Not so the Five.  A demon came down from the mountains that night, heralding the cold with a screaming wind.  The Kess-tral and the Ash-imar were watching as the lesser bright orb called Jola was high.  It stalked down from the mountains, bringing the gale of wind and ice with it.  The tales of the Spiked Skulls call it a winter-demon, an elemental thing of ice and a herald of winter.  Whatever it’s name, the demon was furious with the Kess-tral for some reason.  It stalked across the river and came to attack her.  The Kess-tral was fast though and she had the protection of her warrior, the Ash-imar.  

The two humans fought like goblins but with the strength of orcs.  It was almost not enough.  The cold of the winter-demon cut like a hundred knives and its claws were like swords.  Perhaps the Kes-tral and the Ash-imar could have killed it, perhaps not, but humans protect their own.  The Kill-rawn, the witch-elf, and the singing one were awakened by the long battle and they strode out into the swirling white powder and soon the winter-demon was vanquished, leaving behind only ice-chunks.  The wind died down and the white powder fell slower.  When the sun rose again we set out on the boats with only a fingertip of the powdery-ice to remind us of the god’s power.”

Garundaryek paused in thought for a moment.  “I do not know why the winter-demon came or why it was after the Kess-tral*.  The tales of the Spiked Skulls say its death delayed the coming of winter though.  By the time we reached the human city called Blasingdale the powdery-ice was gone from the land.

At the human city we left the boats and walked towards the tall mountains.  The Kess-tral and the Kill-rawn left us to enter the human city.  By the coming of night they met us again with sledges on wheels.”

Garundaryek stopped speaking and stared off into the darkness, apparently not seeing those around her.  It didn’t take long for the younger orc-children to start fidgeting, and even the female orcs started to look at each other nervously as the silence grew long.  No one dared move though.  Garundaryek would not tolerate an incomplete lesson.

Eventually the ancient-looking shamaness began to speak again, shaking off whatever trance had gripped her.  “Two days.  We traveled two more days into the hills.  On the second day we met the warriors of the Spiked Skulls.  The warriors were confident and proud as befits a strong clan and challenged the Five with the orc-females and children.

Only the Kess-tral could understand these new warriors though; and when she spoke to these warriors she spoke as a proper orc.  The Kess-tral was wise and had learned the little wisdoms of the orcs that I chose to share.  I knew the Kess-tral’s impression would shape our status with the new tribe.

The Kess-tral is the smallest of the Five, small even for a human, barely larger than a child-orc.  She spoke like an orc but did not earn the warrior’s respect.”  Garundaryek smiled.  “Not at first.  She almost fought the warriors there on the road until the Ash-imar stepped forward to proclaim her as his woman.  I knew the Kess-tral by then, she was not pleased.  Still, she managed to gain passage to meet with Chief Garuktok of the Spiked Skulls tribe

Chief Garuktok laughed at the Kess-tral, amused by the small human-child; but the Kess-tral spoke like a warrior and spoke with spirit of a warrior.  She brought letters from the merchants of the human city and she brought the tribe of the Spiked Skulls females and children to make their clan stronger.  She also brought gifts of food and steel.  In return for these gifts the chief made a feast for the Five and the tribe members and he granted the Kess-tral a request for vengeance because it amused him.

That night, during the feast, the Kess-tral met the most offensive warrior in battle.  She killed him with two blows by the strength of her own hand.”

Garundaryek grinned evilly.  “The Kess-tral is now a warrior and thus has her name.  Be wary of the Five from the Empire tribe for even the smallest one is dangerous and cunning.  Be wary of the Five from the Empire tribe for their ways our not ours.  They can kill all the warriors or make a new tribe stronger, on whim alone.  They fight the winter-demons and they fight the things in the dark beyond all sight.  There is only one lesson in this tale worth remembering – beware the Five of the Empire tribe.”


------
_* - I’ve been revisiting my Charles DeLint books around about this time and pulled out an ice para-elemental from the Manual of the Planes.  The vague idea was that the elemental was heralding the coming of an early winter and was enraged by Kestral’s ring as it passed by the camp.

The party never found this out as there weren’t a lot of clues and I never did anything else with it.  Later after I reorganized the calendar, I found out how early a winter it would have been (it’s late August about now – I think at the time I thought it was late September)._

- Next time, more fun from the charcter's point of view...


----------



## Seravin

*Time in Between*

A crisp, brittle cold filled the night air around Thurmaster.  The surprise snow from ten days ago was long gone, but the night air was filled with the promise of a winter soon to come.  Kellron gazed at the dilapidated inn called the Hounds and Tails and grimaced.  There was no telling what was going to happen now.  

The front door opened and Ashimar walked out, looking around.  Spotting Kellron the initiate of Sarath and former rogue padded silently towards his brooding friend.  

The pair stood silent for a moment contemplating the inn.
“Nice night.”  Commented the former street-rogue.
“Cold though.”  Replied Kellron
“Will probably snow soon.  The last one was early.”
“Looks like we’ll miss part of it at least.”

Ashimar nodded at the change of subject and the agreement.  “You think they’ll help?”  He asked Kellron.  “This Car-mar-aren didn’t seem to trust us.”  He spoke the name slowly, enunciating every syllable carefully.

Kellron shrugged and thought back over their meeting with the bald, rock woman.  They called themselves gnomes and stood barely the height of a halfing.  Their skin was a dark, grayish color and they were nearly hairless.  The gnome spokeswoman had looked at them all suspiciously, but she was the one who had started the talking.  

Fortunately Kestral had a natural facility with languages.  The fomer courier (they hadn’t ‘worked’ in over a month) claimed that she could speak six languages when she had first met the group and since then had picked up a smattering of four more in the last three months.  One of those four languages was a common under-tongue which allowed her to talk somewhat haltingly with these gnomes.

The news hadn’t been good and had taken the wind out of their success with the orcs and the freeing of Semheis.  The orcs were only a link in the kidnapping chain.  Creatures called illithids (also known as mind flayers by the Library) were behind the kidnappings, taking the slaves from the orcs for some unknown purpose.

Carmararen would not say much else; she wanted to test the party first to make sure that whatever they did wouldn’t bring doom upon her people.  So an agreement was reached.  The group would come back and meet her scouts inside of a month, prepared for an extended journey beneath the ground.  It would be a test of fitness of arms for Carmararen wanted them to eliminate a nest of trolls.  If the party could do this task then she felt they would be capable enough to use the information that she could pass on to them.  Kellron’s faith allowed him to ignore fear, but that didn’t mean he looked forward to this test.

Kellron grinned finally and truned to answer Ashimar.  “We were in the middle of an orc cave covered in blood.”  He pointed out.

Ashimar grinned also.  “That’s right, you smelled like an orc for two days until Jallarzi could magic the stench out of your amor.  No wonder Carmararen seemed suspicious.”

Kellron gave his friend a side-long glance and clapped him on the back.  “Maybe.”  He admitted.  “But I don’t think that’s it.”  The two young men were nearly the same age, neither quite twenty years of age, and they had radically different upbringings; but in the past three months they had come fast friends – brothers in all but name.

Ashimar looked at the inn and snorted in disgust.  “The place is a dump.”
Kellron sighed.  “Yes it is.”
“And the food…”  He trailed off.  It didn’t pay to think about the food.
Kellron nodded.  He had an iron stomach, but the last time they had stayed here they had been awakened by the sound of people heaving the evening’s meal outside their window.  Quite frankly even getting the food down showed a certain amount of intestinal fortitude.

Ashimar continued on a different tract.  “At least the rooms keep the bugs warm.”  He said comfortingly.

“You know if you keep this up they won’t let you stay here.”

“That okay.  I know the owner.  You already said we could stay for free.”

“I must have been out of mind.  Besides, the place isn’t mine until I register the sale with Squire Marlen in the morning and get his seal.  Then I’ll be a tax paying landholder.”  Kellron looked over the inn.  “It’s probably not worth four thousand lions, but I think with a bit of work I’ll earn it back.  We’re near Corlean and on the route to Blasingdale.  With a little bit of care it can earn some money again.”  He snorted.  “At the very least it will be a nice place to stay from now on.  I think Alice can manage the place while I’m gone.”

“Alice is…?”

“The barwoman.  The older one with the black hair.”

Ashimar nodded sagely.  “Tough looking woman.  She doesn’t look like she’ll take any nonsense.”  The two men looked at the inn again.

“Lets go inside.”  Said Kellron.  “It’s getting cold.”

Ashimar grinned and rubbed his hands up and down and arms.  “I was hoping you would say it first.”  As he started inside.  “Best of luck on this.”  He added before they reached the door.  “I wouldn’t mind a cheap place to stay.”

“I was shooting for clean.”


----------



## Seravin

The next few updates will be small, but hopefully they'll come quicker...


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## Leopold

Seravin said:
			
		

> The next few updates will be small, but hopefully they'll come quicker...





where exactly are they in the module? Book number???


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## Seravin

Leopold said:
			
		

> where exactly are they in the module? Book number???




As of this update they are sitting on the cusp of Book II.  The next update will have the group up at the Eelhold, and from there they go a huntin' deep below the earth. 

Game-wise they're in Book III.


----------



## Seravin

*Dreams of Water*

_Years ago, as a child, she had seen the sea; blue and magnificent.  The sun glinted off the surface with blinding silver sparkles.  Suddenly_ then is now.  _Beneath the water she can just make out moving shapes.  She moves closer, hoping to see more.  There is a crashing sound but she doesn’t understand what she hears. _

*”The analysis has come back.  My friend writes that the information I provided was detailed enough to help.”*  The voice is firm, but labors under the weight of age.

_The taste and smell of salt surrounded her and bubbles streamed from her mouth.  There is no up or down, the pull of the tide was overwhelming.  A dozen mutli-colored fish swam past her stinging vision, drawn by the same inexorable pull.  The water roils about her, speaking, but still she cannot understand._

*”I can barely credit it, but Mortenson has found that the symbol can be directly tied to the Courts of Water.*  There is a wonderment in the voice.  *Specifically, the placement of this dot here indicates that this is a symbol of the royal family.”*

_The air is gone and her lungs burn.  There’s a pounding in her ears that overwhelms the sounds that she can only almost understand._

*”If Mortenson is right, you have a signet ring that belongs to a member of the Courts of Water.*  There is a thoughtful pause.  *It would certainly explain the weight of its aura.  I would suggest you return it, but I haven’t the faintest idea of how.  The sea is a long way away and the Courts are further still.”*

_It has been the same dream night after night.  The pounding blood will soon wake her and she’ll find that it’s Kellron snoring.  

“*Breathe.*”  

The noise startles her.  It’s not the quavering voice.   This voice, this_ word_, crashes across her self like the surf that drug her in.  Reflexively she opens her mouth and sucks in pure, sweet, water.

She is breathing. But more importantly she understands the voice of the surf.  It sings to her and she can sing back.*_ 

Kestral sleeps soundly for the rest of the evening.


*Kestral leveled and picked up Aquan.  Until now she had been making an effort to spend time researching the various languages she had been learning (at least one every level).  She got this language because of the ring.  The group also got a report back from Tauster on the nature of the ring they had traded the goblins for.

_edit: spelling and grammar imps were banished._


----------



## Seravin

*Synopsis*

Fourteen days had passed since the the five companions had defeated the orcs deep beneath the Thornwood and had talked with Carmararen of the gnomes.  Those fourteen days had been busy.

There was a whirlwind trip to deliver the surviving orc women and children to the orcs that lived in Khundrukar.  There was the side trip to Blasingdale where Ashimar finally picked up the magical gloves that conferred a cat-like grace.  In Milbourne Jallarzi had finally taken the time to identify the captured magical items they had retrieved from the orcs.  In Thurmaster Kellron had purchased the Hounds and Tails.  It was in Thurmaster that Panther took his leave from the group.  His restless spirit forced him to move on for awhile.*

Now the group was back in Milbourne.  The previous evening they had spent with Kupier while on their way back from Thurmaster to Milbourne.  They had brought the ranger up to date on their exploits.  Kupier had been pleased to hear that the orcs were defeated, but he was less pleased to hear that another tribe of orcs had been strengthened with women and children.  His time as an Imperial Scout had not left him with charitable feelings towards orcs. 

The four friends had spent some time trying to figure out what they wished to do next.  They did not have to see Carmararen immediately, but there wasn’t much time to do much else.  A request from Garyld had eventually helped them decide.  A friend of his, a woman called Shiraz, had a problem.  A nearby lake called the Eelhold was home to several strange occurrences.  The root of the problem was a captured water elemental that had been bound to the lake.  The bindings were starting to slip now and the elemental was given to increasingly frequent rages.  Something had to be done, though no one was sure what that ‘something’ was.  Hopefully Kestral could talk to it.

In the morning they would set out with a Shiraz, a blonde-haired woman in her late twenties.  She was a reserved woman with short, ash-blonde hair and dressed in well worn traveling leathers.  Oddly, her travel kit looked light, but she explained that she was use to foraging as she went. 


_* Panther’s player dropped out for awhile._


----------



## Seravin

Hey all,
Sorry for the long delay between posts.  The project I've been working on the last two and a half months has finally gotten off the ground.  We've gone from planning to doing.  The one problem is that it put me in a little place called Valdez, Ak.

That said, I think I'm at a point where I can start posting a little more regularly - hopefully this Sunday will be productive.

thanks for the patience.

-seravin


----------



## Seravin

*The Ranger, the Nixie, and the Elemental*

_ A nixie and an elemental swam into this lake and go up to biggest fish.
The nixie and the fish chat for a few minutes and then the nixie tells the fish that this is the best looking lake that she has seen in some time.
The fish puffs up with pride.  “Yes it is.  He exclaims. “By the way,” asks the fish, “Who is the elemental?”
The nixie looks a little offended.  “That’s no elemental that is my wave!”*_

It was the next morning and it had been a short trip to the lake known as the Eelhold.  Originally somewhat smaller, the locals from Milbourne had erected a dam some fifty years earlier in an effort to expand the lake and control the spring flooding that happened every year.  The lake had expanded as expected and the Carman family had further invested in hiring a wizard from the Corlean Library to summon a water spirit to further aid in controling the lake.

The wizard had shrugged and performed the summoning and binding, then took his payment and left.  The elemental was left with orders to protect the dam and to prevent any flooding from rupturing the damn.  A pleasant side-effect of the summoning was that a number of fresh water eels migrated into the lake from somewhere else (no one knew from where).  The eels were big, tasty, and stupid – ideal for the local populace who quickly took up fishing in the late fall.

Unbeknownst to all but a handful of people, a member of one of the Forest Courts, a nixie named Shenjirith had also made her home in the area.  Shenjirith was initially curious about the human construction and then amused and then pleased with the increase in her home’s size.  The binding of the water elemental both pleased and offended her.  On the one hand she now had a companion to talk to, on the other the elemental was bound to such a small area.  Still, there was nothing she could do about it so Shenjirith accepted the situation the same as she accepted the falling of night and the rising of the sun.

Now, a little over five decades later, the magics were starting to slip.  Fifty years of confinement to a lake only a few miles across could not compare to the scope of the Great Sea.  Fifty years of confinement with only stupid, flesh-bound eels and a flighty water-fey for company.  It is not a wonder that the elemental was going mad, it was a wonder it took so long.

Kellron, Ashimar, Kestral, Jallarzi, and Shiraz stared out across the expanse of the Eelhold.  In the distance, perhaps a hundred yards away, a waterspout was starting to form.  

“The folk are going to start fishing for the eels soon.”  Noted Shiraz, as the waterspout reached a height of thirty feet.  The spout began to move about.  Unsaid was the amount of damage the elemental could do if it got angry while the fishermane were boating about.

Shiraz, also called ‘Garyld’s Legs’ because she wandered for the lame former scout, had lived within Haranshire her entire life.  Related by blood to Northel, the same druid that had raised Oleanne, Shiraz grew up with a deep abiding respect for Sheelegra’s bounty.  When she was younger, Shiraz had made three trips with her uncle to the Forest Courts and had her own adventures there.  What was happening out on the lake was not right.  Garyld and Kupier both spoke highly of this group.  They had proven themselves capable with words when talking with the goblins and with arms when attacking the orcs.  Having been to the Forest Courts, Shiraz appreciated that it was rare for anyone to exhibit both traits.  Still she couldn’t see what this group would do.

Shaking her head, the young ranger looked around and then called out in a loud, clear voice.  It was light and clear and reminded the listners oddly of rippling waves and whispering leaves.  Kestral’s eyes gleamed in the warm autumn sunlight.
Shiraz waited a few moments and called again.  She looked to the four friends and shrugged.  “It may take her a few moments to get here.”

The group waited patiently for awhile and then Shiraz called out again.

“I can hear you know.”  Came the exasperated, high-pitched voice of a girl.  The voice came from the lake.  The girl, no, rather the woman had risen up silently from out of the water.  Four of the five people on the shore started.  Almost half out of the water was a small, green-skinned, round-faced woman.  Her eyes were impossibly large and the same color as the lake itself.  Ashimar’s keen eyes quickly noted the fine network of scales across her skin, and while her hands were underwater he could see the webbing between her fingers.

Shiraz stepped forward and knelt down on one knee.  “Greetings and fair morning, Shenjirith, I hope you are well?”

The water-fey giggled, her girlish voice seemed incongruous with her features.  “So formal.”  The nixie looked to the four people behind the ranger.  “Who are your friends?”  Her voice and manner had gone from pleasure to suspicion.

Shiraz smiled.  “As you say, friends.”  She pointed to each of the people in turn.  “This is Jallarzi, Kestral, Ashimar, and Kellron.  I’m hoping they can help us with our friend out there.”

Shenjirith turned to look.  The water spout was now gone.  “He’s been angry today.”  She said gravely.  Soon the magic will be broken and he won’t be able to go home.  The little human thing will be smashed and Shurlblurulp will follow the rivers down to the sea.”  Shenjirith shrugged.  “I will miss him.”

“Perhaps it will not come to that.”  Answered Shiraz reassuringly.  “Kestral here thinks she might be able to talk to Shurlblurulp.”  Shiraz made a fair representation of the elemental’s name.

Shenjirith cocked her head to one side and blew an errant strand of hair out of her face.  “_I_ talk to Shurlblurulp all the time.  He still gets angry, though sometimes less.”  Shenjirith looked at the slight human woman called Kestral.  “What can _she_ do?”

Kestral smiled and lifted her right hand so that the nixie could see the ring.  Shenjirith looked at it curiously for a moment and then caught her breath.  The water rippled in sympathy with her agitation.  “That ring belongs to the Water King!”  She looked at Kestral accusingly.  “Where did you get it?”

Kestral noted Shiraz’s posture and also stepped forward and knelt down.  “Some goblins had it.  We bargained for it from them.”  

Shenjirith looked at the human woman and decided that she was trustworthy.  “I’ll go get Shurlblurulp.  Maybe he’ll listen to you better.”  The nixie turned and dove down into the water, her webbed feet kicking about the water just briefly before disappearing into the depths.

The group looked at each other and back out to the water.  There was nothing to do but wait.  It was not a long wait.  Very shortly a disturbance in the water could be seen.  A wave, about three feet high was rolling in, the tip frothing with white foam.

The wave came right up to the shore line and abrubtly stopped two feet from the land.  Everyone breathed in relief, for a moment it looked as if they were going to be swamped and they had all been ready to jump back.  However the wave was still standing there, its depths roiling slightly.  Jallarzi imagined she could make out eyes and mouth where the water was churning most.

Kestral and Shiraz both stood and eyed the standing wave as a pair.  Shenjirith broke the water soundlessly next to the elemental.  “I brought him.”  She pointed out.

Kestral brought her hands out from her side and walked forward slowly.  The young courier did not stop when she reached the water, instead she continued on in.  It would be best to make a good impression.  She turned and looked back to her friends.  “I’ll be right back.  I’m going under to speak with it.”  Taking a deep breath she continued walking into the water.  It was still early morning and the water should have been cold, but Kestral didn’t feel any discomfort.

“Wait.”  Said Shenjirith.  She glided forward effortlessly through the water.  “Can you breathe?”

Kestral cocked her head and then replied.  “No.”  She said, shaking her head.

“Then here.”  Shenjirith moved closer to Kestral and kissed her quickly.  Kestral accepted the kiss quietly and felt a shiver pass down her spine as if she had been plunged into a cool mountain spring on a warm summer’s day.  “There.”  Said Shenjirith.  “The waters will be as your home until the next sunrise.”

“Thank you.”  With that Kestral moved under water, taking another reflexive breath, just in case.  She had fully expected to be coming up for air every so often and was glad that bit of dignity was saved.  If the nixie’s magic worked it would be an interesting experience.

She needed to be under the water for that was the only way to properly pronounce the words from the Courts of Water.  In the air, the sounds would be harsh and grating and she knew her throat would hurt for a week.  

Once fully immersed Kestral tried a quick breath, half expecting to choke.  She didn’t and the courier smiled.  Shenjirith, who had followed her in, gave a small ‘hmph’ guessing at Kestral’s test.  

Satisfied Kestral turned to fully face the elemental.  On some level she could guess at the creature’s mood.  The churning water wasn’t good.  “Hello.”  She bubbled.

The elemental frothed and bubbled back.  Kestral spoke the High Tongue of the Water Court, without a trace of accent.  More, the creature recognized the ring on her finger and knew better than to attack her.

“Why have you been so angry?”  asked Kestral, directly to the point.  Little did she know the directness was appreciated by the elemental.  

*“Too long.”*  Was the answer.  *“Too long here.  Sent here by my King to serve the earthers.”*

“Why hasn’t he called you back?”  Kestral used the sentence structure that showed her concern for the elemental’s well being.

*“Fogotten.”*  Bubbled the elemental, and its interior churned even faster.  *“The King has forgotten he has sent me here and has not called me back.”*

Kestral nodded sympathetically, her hair waving gently in the water.  “Maybe I can speak with him?”

*“Why?”*

“I want to speak with him anyway.”  She lifted her ring-bearning hand.  “I want to know about the magic of the ring.”

There was a pause, then the creature bubbled again.  *”Not his.”* Was the creature’s reply.  *”The ring belongs to one of his son’s.  A prince.”*

Kestral absorbed that.  “I still wish to talk to him.  Can you help me?  I’ll talk to the King for you if you do.”

*”I will help.”*


_*This joke just goes to show that humor is not elemental.   
I tried to make up a funny water joke, but the only thing that ran through my head was “A nixie and an elemental walk into a bar…”_

_edited some spelling and grammar._


----------



## Seravin

*In the Courts of Water*

“We have to kill it?”
“Sort of.  Kind of.  I don’t understand it.  Shurlblurulp doesn’t belong here, if we kill his body here, then he’ll be sent home.  The ring will let me follow him.”

Jallarzi looked at Kestral quizzically.  That might have been true of summonings, but not bindings – at least not normally.  The sorceress kept silent though as this wasn’t her area of expertise.  Perhaps the magic of the ring would allow such a thing.*

The group discussed the wheres and how for a few minutes, trying to work out the details.  “Will it attack us?”  “It’s okay with this?” “This will send it home?” and other questions were asked and answered.  

Eventually Kellron, Ashimar, and Kestral were standing in the shallow water around the sentient wave looking at each other and their willing victim.  Their weapons were out and collectively they took a long breath.

Ashimar was the first to strike, necessity taking precedence over any moral qualms.  His rapier (recently enchanted by the Library in Blasingdale) lashed out and the elemental churned, water briefly fountaining out from the magical wound.  Kellron struck next with a wide sweep from his blade and Kestral followed up.

The slaughter, for such it was, didn’t take too long, though it took long enough.  Shurlblurulp did not retaliate against the strikes, though his form churned mightily as it diminished in size.  Finally, several strokes later, Kellron gave a mighty swing which cut through the entire breadth of the elemental’s body.  

The two parts of the elemental body collapsed into the lake with a splash.  Where the main party of the body fell, a small whirlpool suddenly formed, perhaps two feet across and twice as deep.  Kestral had been waiting for the moment, and before the whirlpool settled she dove in.

---

Appearances had been deceiving.  The whirlpool wasn’t four feet deep.  Once inside Kestral realized that the whirlpool stretched on forever.  The walls of the whirlpool defined a water-filled tunnel that inexorably pulled her forward.  Kestral knew she wouldn’t be able to fight the current that drove her; not that she wanted to.

Later when asked, Kestral wouldn’t be able to say how long she traveled.  It didn’t feel like a long time, but it could have been.  Kestral recalled spending some of the time trying maneuver while in the spinning tunnel; slowing herself slightly by stretching her arms out, and speeding forward by bringing her arms in front of her.  She had fun.

Abrubtly the tunnel ended, and Kestral found herself speeding through calm, cool waters.  There was a radience to the water, though Kestral couldn’t figure out where the source was.  In the distance she saw something plant-like floating.  For a moment the young woman was disorientated, not sure which way was up, but she ignored it and arbritarily chose a direction for the time being.

There was movement next to her and Kestral saw a cloud of foam next to her.  It was Shurlblurulp.

*I am home.      Thank you.*  It was strange, but in this place, this calm sea, the elemental’s words were clearer; more potent.

Kestral cursied as best she could underwater.  “You are welcome.”  She looked around.  “Can you show me the way to the Water King?”

There was a pause and the frothy cloud expanded a bit for only a moment like an elemental shrug.  *”This way.”*

So Kestral swam in the Great Sea, where all waters eventually lead to on their way back home.  Well, she sort of swam.  After a few feet it soon became apparent that Kestral had no practice in swimming and she had no talent.**

Shurlblurulp soon became exasperated with the meat-sack’s ineptitude.  With a practicality born of the need to repay a favor and escape any other servitude, the elemental quickly engulfed the woman and together they surged forward through the great depths.

----

The palace of the sea king sits upon a vast, floating reef of multi-hued coral.  Gold and silver towers stretched upwards, topped with pearlescent domes.  Swimming in the waters about this small city-castle were schools of fishes of all sizes.  It took Kestral a moment to realize that some of the fishes were almost the size of some of the towers and others appeared to be a cross of humans and fish.  Shurlblurulp quickly sped forward past them all, ignoring them.  His course brought the pair of them up to a great coral hall, flanked by pearly minarets.  The coral of the structure was of many different colors and sealife of all sorts crawled over its surface.  

They speeded past the two great golden doors and through winding tunnels.  Eventually they reached a pair of giant green doors (Jade, thought Kestral).  Two guardians stood before the portal, giant men with the lower bodies of fish – tritons if Kestral rememebered her stories correctly, though she had never heard that tritons were twelve feet tall…. long… however they were measured.  In their hands they held golden tridents, bejeweled with rubies, emeralds, and sapphires.  

“Who approaches the Hall of Burupulburdup?”  Bubbled one of the tritons, swimming forward a pace or two.

Kestral found herself pushed out Shurlblurulp rather unceremoniously.  

*She does.   She wears a ring.”*

The triton guard looked down at Kestral’s hand and gasped reflexively, his long, pointed features etched with surprise.  He looked to his companion.  “She wears the ring of a prince!”  

The guard raised a perfect, seaweed green eyebrow.  “I’ll inform the Vizier.”

A few minutes later Kestral was ushered into the chamber of the Water King.

The hall was vast, perhaps a hundred feet long and half as high and the young woman quickly understood why.  The Water King was huge.  Like the tritons, his lower half was the body of a fish.  Unlike the other tritons he was almost twenty feet tall.  His long hair which streamed with the currents in the water was a vivid blue, the color of glacial ice.  

Here and there were throngs of creatures; some fishy looking, others not.

*Well.  Come forward creature!* Commanded the king.

Kestral paddled across the hall, which was the best she could manage.  

*Why is it here again?”* Asked the king to the frothy cloud next to him.

The cloud bubbled.  Where Shurlblurulp was about Kellron’s size, maybe a little larger, this elemental was clearly the size of a cottage.  *”She bears one of the royal rings, my lord.”*

*”It’s not one of my spawn!”*  Declared the king.  Then, worriedly.  *”Is it?”*

*”No my lord.  It, I think it’s a she actually, probably bears the ring of one of your sons.  Blidoolpul, I would guess.”*

The king looked hard at his elemental advisor.

*”Number 142.”* 

The king looked surprised.  *”Him?  I thought he was out and about.”*

*”Yes my lord.  Perhaps she can tell us where.  It has been several great tides. *

The king looked to Kestral, his green and gold eyes piercing her.  *”Aren’t you here yet?  Stop lolly-gallying like some small-fry.*

Kestral shrugged and paddled for the floor.  “I’m sorry, great king, but I’m not a proficient swimmer like others of your magnificient court.”

The king harrumphed.

Kestral was soon able to reach the floor and she sort of hopped across the remaining distance.  Her dignity gone, Kestral decided to turn it into a humorous debacle.  “I’m afraid I’m not made for swimming.”

*”Did you come here for fins then?  Those almost always help.*

“No, your highness.  I came about this ring I found.”

And so Kestral told the story of how she and her friends found the ring with the goblins and how they bartered for it.  She answered every question the king and vizier put to her completely.

*”So you don’t know where 142 is, do you?”*  The king paused.  *”Amuse me a bit while I think.  Try swimming again.  I can’t imagine how you earthers get about not knowing how to swim.”*

Obligingly, Kestral try to swim for the Water King.  She had nothing better to do and if it got her in his good graces, then there was no reason not to.  And it wasn’t like she had ever been taught to swim.

Eventually the king spoke again.  *”You will find my son for me.  I can’t have him in some silly trouble or another.  It’s not right.  It’s obvious he’s in your waters now so you’re in the best position to do this.*

“How can I find him though?”  Asked Kestral.

The king waved one bejeweled hand.  *That’s your problem.*

“I’ll need some help though.”  She persisted.  “Could you make the ring work for me?”

The king cocked his head in thought, a sardonic grin and a gleam in his eye told Kestral he knew what she was asking for.  He waved his hand lazily.  *“Very well.  Float very still.”*  He cautioned.  

A light green radiance appeared about Kestral’s hand.  *”There.  You may breathe whilst in the water and you may summon parts of my realm in order to aid yourself on your quest.*  The king delivered this with magnaminous grace as if awarding her a title.  *”If you find my son’s location and deliver the news to me, I will perhaps allow other abilities of the ring to be summoned forth.  Regardless, you have one great tide to do so - equal to one of your years I believe.”*

Kestral bowed.  “Thank you, your highness.  Now about me getting home…”

*”My vizier will see to it.  Remember girl, one year.”*

---

_The conversation actually was a bit longer than above.  Kestral’s player did inquire about the elemental bound to the lake and saw to it that the king continued his pledge of providing elemental support there.  For the foreseeable future at least, an elemental will be assigned to guard the Eelhold lake, but they won’t be forgotten.

Kestral was returned to the Eelhold herself without mishap, with almost a full day having elapsed.  The group spent the night on the shores of the lake, comfortable within their magical residence.

In the morning, Shiraz took her leave and the group made their way into the mines.  From there, they went to the orc caves and met Carmararen’s emissaries.[/b]

*In retrospect I wouldn’t have done things this way.  Killing the elemental should have given the party a dead elemental.  Still for my purposes this time it worked.

**8 strength, no ranks in swim.

edit: grammatical and logical changes._


----------



## Seravin

*A Recap*

Welcome to Book II of the Night Below.
After many real months of playing, my players eventually made it.  It would take a lot longer to get through book II then it did book I though.  

Since it's been awhile since I wrote the first post to this story, I figure it's an excellent time to step back and recap what has gone on before.  Especially since I've been dabbling in all sorts of writing experiments.

Four young people met in the small town of Blasingdale.  As per tradition, they them met in an inn and quickly responded to a hostile summoning of abyssal rats.

The four people included:
Kellron: A time lost paladin of Sarath, sent forward to battle some nameless evil.
Ashimar: a rogue who stole a wizards magic book and lived to regret it.
Jallarzi: A half-elven sorceress out to learn as much about magic as she can.
Panther: A half-elven bard, out for a lark.

In the course of their tracking down the hostile summoner, they met their fifth member, Kestral, a young woman from the southern realms, now a courier.

Over the next several months, the group had several adventures in and about Haranshire, a county a few days east of Blasingdale.  Eventually they discovered a plot afoot do kidnap spellcasters of all types.  Human bandits, led by the evil god Tresh would perform the kidnapping.  Then, at least in the area of Haranshire, the victims would be turned over to orcs who lived beneath the earth.   Eventually the group learned that the orcs turned their captives over to a race of creatures called illithids, described as tentacled-headed humanoids.  For now, the bandits have been routed and the orcs warriors slain.

Other deeds they have done included solving the problems with the sudden growth of the New Mire and dealing peacefully with a previously unknown tribe of goblins.  They relocated the surviving females and children of the orcs beneath the earth to another orc fortress.  And they have solved a potential problem with the Eelhold.

In the course of their adventures, the group has made some friends, including:
Lyntern, the son and heir of Count Parlfray.  
Tauster, an elderly wizard who does not talk about his past.  
Kupier, a retired Imperial Scout.

Currently the group has the following tasks:
1. Rout a group of trolls who will cause problems for a group of deep gnomes.
2. This will cause the gnomes to give the party information on the illithid and where they take their captives.
3. Find out where the Water King's son is.

Other tasks will soon crop up.  The group has made a fortune from the bandits and the orcs and have not been shy in spending it.  For now though, the group just has to survive the coming months.  They'll have to do it without Panther also, as he has taken a sabbatical and gone north to the city of Corlean.

_Anyway, that's the recap.  Thanks to AsEver for pointing out places that don't make sense, and apologies to all for any confusion I might have created._


----------



## Mortepierre

Long time lurker here.

First of, let me congratulate you on a job well-done. Night Below is my favorite campaign and I love what you have done with the first book. The "orc insight" part especially was very fun to read.

I too would be interested in your campaign notes but I'll ask questions in your other thread to keep this one as comment-free as possible


----------



## Seravin

Mortepierre said:
			
		

> Long time lurker here.
> 
> First of, let me congratulate you on a job well-done. Night Below is my favorite campaign and I love what you have done with the first book. The "orc insight" part especially was very fun to read.
> 
> I too would be interested in your campaign notes but I'll ask questions in your other thread to keep this one as comment-free as possible




Thank you very much for the praise, I appreciate it and I'm glad that some of my alternative writing styles have been enjoyable.  I'll have to beg leave on the campaign notes for now - hopefully this weekend if I find the time.


----------



## Capellan

Seravin said:
			
		

> 1. Rout a group of trolls who will cause problems for a group of deep gnomes.




How did this go, in general terms?  Playing in 3e probably helps, but when I was a player and we were doing that mission, I about killed myself from the boredom: eight straight hours of killing trolls = bleh.

It was shortly thereafter that the group imploded, though for non-game related reasons.


----------



## Mortepierre

Capellan said:
			
		

> How did this go, in general terms?  Playing in 3e probably helps, but when I was a player and we were doing that mission, I about killed myself from the boredom: eight straight hours of killing trolls = bleh.
> 
> It was shortly thereafter that the group imploded, though for non-game related reasons.




Can't say how Ser's players did it but here is how mine went about it (was three weeks ago and I am still laughing about it)

Weirdly enough, one of my players too is Rogue which has maxed Diplomacy and Intimidate, albeit for different reasons (he uses them to get out of tough situations or force "confessions"). Being a gnome, he spoke Giant.

Using Invisibility (cast by the party wizard) and an alchemical solution masking scent (he paid an alchemist long ago for that one because he was deadly afraid of dogs finding him), he scouted both troll clans. Having gathered info, he went back to the party.

The wizard polymorphed him into a troll and the gnome used his Disguise skill to make himself look like a member of the Topknots clan. Then he went to the matriarch and, using a combo of Diplomacy & Intimidate, convinced her he was a proxy of her god sent to help her defeat the "unfit trolls of the Slaverer clan" (having received numerous protection spells beforehand from the cleric and the wizard did help here!)

He offered the matriarch a Flaming Greatsword (it was the paladin's own; boy, did he grumble about that!   ) and told her it was her sacred duty to destroy the weaklings of the other clan.

End result? The Topknots invaded the Slaverers and they killed each others. The party just had to wait till there were only a few survivors left and then finish them.

It was nothing short of brilliant, even though the rogue had to make quite a few high DC checks to pull it out.


----------



## AsEver

*Trollfighting*



			
				Capellan said:
			
		

> How did this go, in general terms?  Playing in 3e probably helps, but when I was a player and we were doing that mission, I about killed myself from the boredom: eight straight hours of killing trolls = bleh.




We did it the old-fashioned way, we burned them!   

Our M.O. was to sneak in as far as we could, usually finding one or two trolls at a guardpost. We'd try to bring them down fast before the inevitable reinforcements arrived. Jellarzie would cast as many flaming spheres as she could, and park one or two on top of each dropped troll. Roll, park. Fireball. Roll, park. We could usually manage 4-6 of them before making a tactical withdrawl. 

It took a long time.


----------



## Seravin

Capellan said:
			
		

> How did this go, in general terms?  Playing in 3e probably helps, but when I was a player and we were doing that mission, I about killed myself from the boredom: eight straight hours of killing trolls = bleh.






			
				AsEver said:
			
		

> We did it the old-fashioned way, we burned them!




As the lady Ever said.  They burned them.  

It was long and tedious and it took longer than 8 hours.
We generally play for about 4 hours every week.  I think it took about 8 game sessions to get through all of this, though there was one or two game sessions that were essentially side-quests.
By the end of it all, I hated running troll combats.  :\ 

That said, the party accomplished a small miracle.  It's a wonder more characters didn't die...But more on that later.


----------



## Seravin

*Armed for Troll*

_The party was around the middle of 5th level when they started this.  Here's how they were armed. _
--------
Eyes like icy sapphires overlaid with sparkling magics gazed at the four surface-folk.  The little round face that bore the enchanted eyes belonged to spiritual and temporal leader of Smoothhand Tunnels.  The little gnome, Carmeneren, spoke directly with Callarduran on behalf of her people and he in turn spoke with Tasa.  It was their wisdom and protection that allowed her folk to survive in this harsh environment, far from their home tunnels.

Dangers were everywhere in these tunnels far too near the surface.  Most prevalent were the burning slimes and oozes, but they were mindless things and easily fooled.  Sadness threatened to overwhelm the priestess momentarily but she surpressed it; easily fooled perhaps but as her friend Torvoglen had discovered deadly none the less. 

Then there were the illithids with their thralls.  Carmeneren and her folk had marked the passing of the illithids when they had first come to these tunnels.  The vile things had their own works to pursue though and did not concern themselves with the small folk who took the greatest pains to stay unnoticed.

Finally there were the trolls.  Runaway thralls of the illithid perhaps, or some other race; the gangling, cancerous creatures had settled not long ago too near the sacred caves.  It hadn’t taken much forethought to try and set the creatures against each other, but her people had only been partially successful.  The trolls had split into two groups, but the strength of each group was too even.  The trolls were less a threat then they were, but with the trolls constantly fighting amongst each other the sacred caves were even more off limits than before.

Thus the champions were recruited.  Callarduran had told her they were coming and when and where they would arrive.  These champions were not of the stone-folk and they had their own goals, but Callarduran’s thoughts still lifted her heart.  These folk had a will to set their hands against the illithids and they would set them agains the trolls if that was the way to the tentacled things.  Who knew, perhaps they would set their hands against the diregund in their quest also.

The largest of them stood almost three gnomes of her folk high and was clad all in bright-steel such that he seemed almost a clever mechanical construct.  At his side was a blade that seemed well suited to the warrior, across his back was a bow of the type that the surface folk used; almost as long as he was tall.  Carmeneren’s divinations interpreted what her magical sight saw.  His armor and weapons all bore weak enchantments, but at least they were magical.  Better, his sword bore an enchantment of flame.

The other warrior was a contrast to the first.  Instead of cladding himself in steel plates and bearing a hacking blade, this one wore a chain shirt made of steel and bore a narrow thing sword made for finding and piercing weakspot.  His sword was further enchanted to find out these weak spots and his light armor was fortified with weak enchantments.  Instead of armored gauntlets he wore light gloves made of thin leather with an aura that spoke of agility.  His cloak was also magical and seemed to allow for flight and his boots were enchanted to allow for great bursts of speed.

The taller of the two women was not like the others.  Something else had been melded into her ancestry.  The slightly upswept ears, the white hair, and most of all the eyes spoke of a different bloodline.  Her protections were just as strong as the warriors, the ring she wore showed a weak trace of magic, but the bracers glowed brightly like alchemical phosphorous.  Cradled in one arm was a staff of killing cold and in her belt was a wand that would grant vision to those who could not see in the dark.  Carmeneren knew that the woman’s book of spells would allow her to cast magics of fire and acid and speed.  

The other woman looked almost out of place.  Smaller than the others, neither her leather armor nor the small sword she wore held any enchantments.  She bore a crossbow much like the diregund and that weapon bore an enchantment, though it was barely worth the effort.  However she bore four of the most powerful items amongst the small group; a ring that was a sign of the favor and protection of the Water Courts and another ring that would protect the woman from all entrapments.  In her pack was a small comfortably appointed magical cave that woul allow them some protection while camping down for the night.  The last powerful enchanted object was a pair of boots that would allow her to levitate up and down on command.  Carmeneren liked this one, she was friendly and knew the under-tounges well enough to allow for communication.

The priestess didn’t know how well these four would fare against the trolls, in fact she feared that she was setting them a task that would ultimately kill them.  They were so tunnel blind that all four of them bore pendants that radiated light.  The priestess blinked and allowed normal vision to resume.  “It is well that you would do this task.  If you prove yourselves strong enough then I believe you might be strong enough to set yourselves against the illithids without endangering my people.  In the morning my scouts will lead you to the nests.  May Callarduran and your gods go with you.”


----------



## Seravin

*The Journey*

Perhaps a day and a half had passed in travel through the endless tunnels.  The four friends had been shown the way by four gnome scouts.  The way was dangerous but equally wondrous.  Here, a mile or more beneath the surface there were tunnels that spanned as wide as a city street.  In some places these tunnels were lit by phosphorescent fungus, in others the light of the group’s enchanted pendants had cast rainbows through crystalline deposits embedded in the walls.  Many of these tunnels and caves were not natural, but only the gnomes in the party knew that.

They had journeyed through caves full of bright, multi-hued fungus.  Some they had been warned away from as poisonous, others had nearly sucked the life-heat from their bodies.  Incredily some of the fungus had even moved of its own volition, fortunately the small party had been faster than the walking mushrooms.

Another series of caves had been filled with an acrid smell, like that of an alchemical lab.  The source of the burning odors soon became apparent.  What at first appeared to be smoking pools of acid had turned out to be mobile pools of slime.  The rock in the caves had been burned almost to a glass-like appearance by these slimes, but again the party was able to quickly maneuver through the caves before the things had moved to attack them.

Finally there had been the small tunnels.  This area of the journey, perhaps a mile long, had been criss-crossed with smaller tunnels about three feet across.  When asked, the gnomes had told Kestral that they were created by giant burrowing worms.  While none of these worms were seen no one thought the gnomes had been joking.

Now, two hours from the small, hidden cave they would use for their base, the four friends crept through a side tunnel that they were told would lead to the troll nests.  Their lights were doused and they were all under the enchantment from Jallarzi’s wand that granted darkvision.

At least they were trying to creep through the tunnel.  Ashimar and Kestral were leading, acting like well-practiced ghosts, making little to no sound.  Even Jallarzi was moving with stealth that would earn the approval of a street-thief’s guildmaster.  Kellron who was bring up the rear though…

In his full plate armor with his shield strapped to this arm, the tall human warrior was anything but silent.  After about an hour of Kellron’s armor scraping the tunnel walls and the sound of kicked rocks echoing through the tunnels, Jallarzi finally snapped.  

Pulling her dagger she stopped up short and turned around, glaring at Kellron.  “If you don’t quiet down.”  She hissed, as she lowered her dagger and pressed it close to his belt.  “I’m going to take this dagger and use it!”  The point of the dagger clinked across the chain links that protected the weak points of the paladin’s plate armor around the legs and hips.  Jallarzi’s eyes continued to hold Kellron’s gaze.  “You might not remember, but we’re going up against trolls and I would appreciate it if you kept quiet.”*

Kellron was a man blessed with the grace of Sarath and was thus not plagued by the fears of most men.  However he was also a man of wisdom.  He raised his arms slowly (and thus quietly).  “I am trying Jallarzi, but this armor was not made for stealthy works.  I will hang back a little further though.”

Jallarzi eye’s narrowed, obviously not satisfied.  With a small sniff she turned away and sheathed her dagger and continued walking.  Ashimar and Kestral who had stopped to watch the two exchanged glances and gave Kellron a pitying look.  They then turned back to lead the way again.


_* - This actually happened.  I don't have it quite word for word, but the intent and language is pretty close.  Kellron's player referenced it about 2 months ago, so he still remembers it to._


----------



## Mortepierre

> At his side was a blade that seemed well suited to the warrior, across his back was a.




But a .. what?  :\


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## Seravin

Mortepierre said:
			
		

> But a .. what?  :\



 eep!  
Apologies - i was trying to get those two out last night 'cause I didn't think I'd have a chance to write for another week.  I'll edit that right now.

_Done - apologies, but I'm going to blame it on the long work days._


----------



## Capellan

Seravin said:
			
		

> It was long and tedious and it took longer than 8 hours.
> We generally play for about 4 hours every week.  I think it took about 8 game sessions to get through all of this, though there was one or two game sessions that were essentially side-quests.
> By the end of it all, I hated running troll combats.  :\




It's nice to know I am not alone in my opinion of that part of the adventure 

I don't think we lost anyone in the troll caves, when we played, but it was still a very tedious affair, especially when the DM had the gnomes chuck a tantrum.  They insisted that we not return unless we had killed _every_ troll.  When, after killing nearly twice as many trolls as they'd said were there, we retreated, he had them stone shape their tunnels shut and refuse to help us.


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## Mortepierre

Seravin said:
			
		

> eep!
> Apologies - i was trying to get those two out last night 'cause I didn't think I'd have a chance to write for another week.  I'll edit that right now.




No problem. It's just that with a SH of such quality, I hate to be left without details


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## Seravin

Mortepierre said:
			
		

> No problem. It's just that with a SH of such quality, I hate to be left without details




Thank you.  Apologies for not replying sooner, but after many long months I'm finally done with the last project and able to hopefully devote a bit more time to posting.

This is another first draft, so if you see any errors please let me know.

-seravin


----------



## Seravin

*First Contact*

Silently, under a spell of invisibility and aided with a spell of darkvision, Ashimar crept forward; this next part was going to be straightforward if dangerous.  While the others waited somewhere behind, his mission was to scout out the cave that was somewhere before him.  A cave infested with some fifty trolls. Giant trolls with a strength greater than that of any ogre and vitually immortal, capable of healing every weapon-made wound.  Doubtlessly, thoughts of fire were in the forefront of Ashimar’s mind as he made his way through the wide tunnel.

In and out and lots of fire.  That was the sum total of their plan.  Catch the trolls where they were weakest, apply alchemical and magical fire, and then run away.  The gnomes had promised that their hidey-hole would be safe, assuming they could outrun any surviving trolls long enough to make it there.  All Ashimar had to do was sneak in, find out where the trolls were fewest, and sneak out.  Simple.

A guttural sound stopped the young rogue in his tracks as he peered into the grayness that his magical vision revealed to him.  He saw nothing, but heard another growling sound followed by a meaty thud and a snarl of pain and anger.  Cocking his head slightly the former rogue moved forward, his hand tightening on his rapier.  Hopefully it would be enough if the worse came.

There were two trolls ahead, standing about ten feet apart and eyeing each other warily.  Created, rather twisted, in ages past, trolls were the ultimate shock troops.  Standing nine to ten feet tall and weighing around a quarter-ton, trolls were gangly creatures with hands twisted into claws and an intelligence that was on par with a slow child; a viscious, carnivorous child.  Their hide was rubbery and strange looking under the darkvision spell, but it seemed to pulse with a life all its own.

Ashimar eyed the tunnel with an appraising eye. The widest opening was between the two trolls, otherwise he could try to maneuver around between either troll and the tunnel wall, which was a space of about five feet in either case.  He grimaced but he was certain he could do this.  A slow, steady step would see him through.

He was twenty feet away when both of the trolls looked up and sniffed the air with interest.  Ashimar’s eyes widened and he suddenly wished that he was a witch who could talk to people with his mind.  The troll on the right took a step forward and sniffed again and Ashimar began to back up.  This wasn’t going good.  Both trolls grinned a feral smile, showing sharp fangs where most people had teeth and began to move forward slowly, following the intriguing…enticing scent.  The trolls were hungy, but then trolls are always hungry.

Ashimar scrambled back almost thirty feet before he softly swore in a way unbecoming to a new priest of Sarath and stopped.  When the lead troll got near enough, Ashimar spoke the command word that activated his magic boots and then stepped forward and lunged.  Ashimar was working from surprise and was able to place the tip of the blade exactly where he wanted to.  The keen tip bit cleanly through the hide and sank deep into the troll, going all the way through the left lung before Ashimar was fully extended.  The blow would have killed a human.  The abrubt pain caused the troll to howl, a howl that could be heard clearly up and down the tunnel.  Fortunately for Ashimar both trolls were momentarily disorientated by his sudden appearance.

Far down the tunnel, about sixty feet away, Kellron, Kestral, and Jallarzi and Sarah (Jallarzi’s familiar) all looked up and then looked at each other.  Kestral said the same thing that Ashimar had said when faced with the approaching trolls.

Events seemed to speed forward into double time after that.  Using the hastening magic of his boots, Ashimar struck twice more at the troll he had just wounded, but the wounds beneath the shifting flesh  was already starting to close.  

Kestral made her way down the tunnel, also under the benefit of Jallarzi’s darkvision spell, pulling out her enchanted light amulet from underneath her leather armor.  As soon as Ashimar and his monstrous opponents came into sight she stopped and prepped to throw the amulet to get some light in the area.

Kellron wasn’t far behind, but weighted down with his armor, he had to break out into a full out run just to get near Ashimar and the trolls.  Wisely, he stopped before he was in range of the trolls swiping claws.

The trolls were the next to move, the one in front of Ashimar clawing and biting, but only hitting solidly once.  The other troll moved forward to attack Kellron and swiped at the paladin , the great clawed hand pounding off his shield.

Jallarzi finally moved forward her hand reaching into her spell component pouch and words springing to mind.  When she was close enough, she fired off a burst of three magic missiles against he troll fighting Ashimar.

The fighting continued for several seconds, with Kestral throwing out two enchanted amulets to light up the tunnel and Jallarzi casting magic missiles before the odds shifted to the trolls, as two more trolls appeared, running towards the sound of the fight.

“Sarath.” Muttered Kellron, invoking divine strength from the god as he swung at the troll.  Ashimar muttered the same sentiment as he furiously thrust into the troll he was fighting.

Jallarzi invoked her own invective and for the first time in her career, a ball of flame exploded by her magical will, consuming all four trolls.  The first two trolls were completely overwhelemed and dropped, though their bodies were already repairing the damage caused by the weapons – fortunately the tales were correct and the wounds caused by the fire stayed as they were.

Ashimar and Kellron both stepped forward to engage the new trolls, trusting the girls to take care of the two downed creatures.  Kestral and Jallarzi were only too happy to oblige.  Kestral stepped forwad, pulling out a ceramic flask of caustic acid.  She was going to take great care in applying it.  Jallarzi, thinking quickly, conjured another ball of flame, this time much smaller and less explosive.  A three foot diameter flaming sphere appeared on top of the other downed troll and began to burn merrily away.

It was desperate now.  Everyone knew that the explosion almost certainly drew more trolls and they needed to stop the two surviving trolls before they fled.  Kellron and Ashimar fought furiously and managed to score several hits, their armor and speed respectively allowing them to avoid the return blows.  

Kestral finished applying the acid expertly, burning the trolls eyes out.  It spasmed once as the acid ate through the thin wall past its eyes and into the brain.  Whatever spark of life the troll had, passed with a shudder.  “We have more trolls coming guys.”  She called out and moved towards the two amulets, intent on retrieving them before they fled.

Kellron and Ashimar both finally dropped their two new opponents as Jallarzi conjured a second flaming sphere onto one of them.  As the first troll shuddered, Jallarzi maneuvered that sphere onto the remaining body.  The group looked around and breathed heavily.  The trolls weren’t very bright fighters, relying more on brute strength then anything else, but Kellron and Ashimar hadn’t gotten away entirely unwounded – aching ribs and bleeding flesh attested to that.  Fortunately, Jallarzi’s explosive fireball had turned the tide into their favor.

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, the four friends (and Sarah the familiar) hurried away back down the tunnel.  They would return in the morning and see if they could replicate this minor feat.

_There was a lot of this.  Go in, hit the guards, and retreat.  I still hate running troll encounters two years later.  The next post will skip a few days ahead._

_edits: some spelling and grammatical errors pointed out by AsEver._


----------



## Seravin

*The 100th Day*

_The Topknot trolls were so named by the gnomes for the thick shock of black hair that grew straight up from the troll’s heads – a sign of favor from their demon-god, Vaprak.  This particular clan of trolls was led by their tribal shaman, Greezelet, a rarity in that the shaman was a female, and a double rarity for Greezelet sported a second head which granted her a cunning that matched her visciousness.  

These two traits were much admired by the members of the Topknot clan, for though their numbers were fewer than the Slaverer’s, they had always managed to fight the Slaverer’s to a standstill.  However, now the Topknots were nervous.

Trolls of both clans had died by the touch of the demon called fire; that which caused wounds that did not heal and pain that did not abate.  In a short period of time the Topknots had been reduced by half, so weakened that if the Slaverer’s were to attack the Topknots would be forced to flee.

Greezelet was forced to bring her tribe into her cave here they could meet the fire head on.  The scent of warm, meat creatures, like those the tentacled things used as slaves, was heavy in the air about the dead trolls.  The shaman knew that these creatures were the ones to bring the fire.  She also knew they would come back.  Twice now the creatures had killed the guards and then fled. 

This time the creatures would find no guards.  The creatures would most likely come in further and she and the remaining trolls would overwhelm the creatures and eat them.  They would then take the fire the creatures bore and use it against the Slaverers.  Greezelet was looking forward to the confrontation. _

----

It was their third foray into the troll caves and the small group of friends was playing it cautious.  The first two forays had been very successful and had set the tone of their attack.  Ashimar would scout ahead and figure out where the trolls were. He would then start the attack.  Kestral would follow up by throwing their enchanted light pendants into the general area, illuminating everything around.  Jallarzi would then follow up with a magical induced haste and let off fireball that would target the trolls who had always been reasonably bunched together.  Kellron who had been stationed to protect the women while Ashimar scouted would then rush forward as fast as he could.

It had worked perfectly twice before.  Jallarzi would continue to lay out spells, including two or three flaming spheres to lay upon the casualties and Kestral would pepper any standing trolls with arrow fire to distract them.  So far nine trolls had fallen in this manner and it had been reasonably easy, though their healing potions were starting to get low.  Still, it was a good start.

By Ashimar’s reckoning it was late in the day, perhaps almost nightfall in the world above them.  They had deliberately started late on this foray so as not to appear at the same time as they had before – though telling time in these lightless depths was difficult.  Quietly and invisibly the new-made priest scouted forward into the dark caverns.  Yesterday they had gone in almost a hundred feet into the main cave and still hadn’t seen the far end with the enchanted vision granted by Jallarzi’s magic.  Fortunately the ceiling was visible some forty feet overhead which was a reassuring comfort of boundaries.  Unlike last time though there were no trolls just waiting around in the main cave.  Ashimar frowned at that and went forward a little further just to be sure.  Unsurprisingly, the light amulets they had left behind in the last foray were now gone.

Satisfied that there were no trolls in the immediate area, Ashimar made his way back to the tunnel entrance where his friens were waiting.  “There’s no one out there.”  He whispered to his three companions.*  None of them jumped, having been warned by Kestral that something was coming.

The group quickly discussed what to do and eventually decided to explore the area quickly and see if they could find any trolls left behind.  Agreeing on a direction, Ashimar started out again, to his right, keeping the wall within arm’s length.  It wasn’t long before he found the first cave – though he could have found it by stench alone.  A fungus grew in the cave that smelled like rotting blood and meat.  No one liked the looks of that ill-favored cavern and quickly left.  Kestral contemplated trying the fungus briefly but decided not to.  There was no way the experiment could be worth it.  

It was in the next cave that they found the trolls.  It was a small group – only four of them, standing guard-like at the mouth of the cave.  Ashimar couldn’t see the back of this cave from where he stood but knew there could be more beyond, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.  Reaching into his vest he pulled out a small cloth bundle.  He unraveled it and let the light amulet fall out.  With a quick expert hand, Ashimar whirled the chain about and let the amulet fly.  The lighted jewelry flew true and landed about fifteen feet away from the trolls.

Jallarzi was quick and let off her first fireball.  The blast of fire knocked down one of the trolls _(unknown to the party, a survivor from the last foray who wasn’t quite as dead as they thought – but it only had 10 hit points or so)_ but the other three remainined standing and immediately began to snarl and yalp.

The noise didn’t last long.  Ashimar activated his boots of speed and darted forward, drawing his keen rapier as he moved so he could lay into the closest troll.  Kellron muttered something about heavy armor and lumbered forward at a dead run, hoping that Ashimar would be able to take care of himself.  Meanwhile Kestral moved closer, pulling her bow out and took aim on one of the trolls that hadn’t moved yet.  The shaft sunk deep and Kestral grinned in satisfaction.  

The trolls still standing batted at Ashimar once and then fell back.  Ashimar smelled the blood and the fear and pursued.  For her part, Jallarzi called forth a haste enchantment and summoned a flaming sphere on top of one of the trolls.  It howled in pain and tried to get away.

Kellron finally got close enough and charged the remaining distance to the trolls, daring the closest one to claw at him.  The creature did so and hit hard, but Kellron followed up with hit of his own just as hard.

Blows were traded back and forth between the retreating trolls and the adventurers, but the trolls were on the losing end.  Jallarzi managed to keep one of the flaming spheres moving onto the same troll and conjured a second one.  It didn’t take long for the first group of trolls to drop.  Before Kellron could lay the final blow on the last standing troll though, Ashimar heard a growl towards the back of the cave.

More trolls.  Not sixty feet away.  The young man shook his head in disgust.  The trolls were too close and the group wouldn’t be able to get away in time.  Taking the teachings of Sarath to heart, Ashimar decided to press the attack.  He re-activated his boots and surged forward into the heart of the new troll pack.  

The ensuing fight was brutal.  Jallarzi didn’t have any fireballs left and little time remained on her haste.  She summoned another sphere and began using her magic missiles where she could.

For their part the trolls fought with more cunning and it soon became apparent why.  A monstrous, two-headed troll appeared at the edge of Ashimar’s sight.  The beast was obviously female and it was bedecked in furs and skulls.  The beast was also bearing a shifting enchantment that seemed to make it look like there were three of them.  Ashimar swore and moved to engage it.

The trolls were many – more then they had faced before.  Ashimar was by himself at the forefront, trying to defend the wide expanse of the open cave and Kellron found himself running trying to catch up before he was intercepted by two of the trolls.  Kestral levitated upwards to escape the beasts and use her bow from a safe distance.  Jallarzi maneuvered her spheres to where they could do the most good and fired off as many magic missiles as they could.

The heroes stood their ground; but they stood it separately.  In desperation Jallarzi used one of her precious charges from her Staff of Frost and summoned an Ice Storm to deal with a group of the creatures.  

And though the trolls fell one by one, it wasn’t enough.  

Ashimar’s keen sword bit deep many times, but the creatures kept healing a little bit at a time and he couldn’t hold a line with just himself.  Fortunately his agility and his magic saved him from taking many hits

Kellron wasn’t so lucky.  He invoked Sarath’s wrath and his divine might as he needed to and every hit with his sword bit deep and hard.  The armor that slowed him down so much even prevented him from taking hits that would have shattered bones on an unarmoured man, but it didn’t prevent all the hits.  Kellron was locked in a fight where he was trading an equal number of blows with a troll and he didn’t heal nearly as fast.  Worse, while he was otherwise occupied, one of the trolls slipped past him and charged straight towards Jallarzi.

Ashimar found himself too far from Jallarzi and Kestral as the last of his trolls (the two-headed, magic wielding one) finally fell and the magic of his boots expended itself.  Kestral was levitating high in the air so as to stay out of reach, but her bow wasn’t nearly as devastating as Kellrons’ sword.  

Kellron was the first to fall as Ashimar finally caught up to him.  Ashimar took a moment to bring the beast down and a lucky blow dropped it – though Ashimar knew it wouldn’t stay down to long.  Before he could move further Jallarzi was dropped by a powerful blow from the troll.

Kestral descended, drawing her blade, and between her and Ashimar they dropped the final troll.  They then took their remaining flasks of acid and alchemist fire and applied it to the trolls that were still healing.

The fight was over, though neither Kestral nor Ashimar would have said they won.**

_* - I found my combat sheets from this time period.  Apparently I was wrong about Panther’s player being gone at this time – or at least his character being gone.  We must have been running Panther in the background at the time.  Rather than confuse the issue, I’m going to continue to write as if Panther wasn’t there.  He never decisevly turned any battle, but given that he could cast cure light wounds and Cat’s Grace and could use bard song, he certainly helped to sway the fights into the party’s favor.  

** - Another error on my part at the time.  There was a lot of paperwork involved here and I somehow messed up and was applying Rend damage with each troll hit.  Kellron was only getting hit once a round, but it was like getting hit twice.  No wonder he dropped.  Everyone learned a valuable lesson from this fight by the end of it.  But I still had two dead party members to deal with._


----------



## Seravin

*What Next?*

“Where did they get all of this?”  Asked Kestral as she quickly dug through a pile of rocks.

Ashimar shook his head.  “I don’t know.  Is this a fox pelt?”  He asks as he pulls down the the animal furs that had been hanging on the cave wall.

Kestral looked up and gave the silvery looking fur an appraising eye.  “No.”  She said slowly.  “It’s a very _expensive_ fox pelt.  I have no idea how it got down here.”  She said as she turned back to moving the rock pile.

The new-made priest and the courier worked quickly.  Jallarzi and Kellron were dead, laid out on the bunk beds in their magical hut that was still enlarged behind them.  Sarah, Jallarzi’s familiar, was keeping watch from the door.  

For their part, Kestral and Ashimar were unsure what was going to happen next but it was certain to be expensive, so Kestral did a quick pass through the cave thinking that the shaman would have the tribe’s treasure close by.

Kestral’s intuition was dead on.  On one wall of the cavern were the animal pelts and just below it was a large pile of rocks that was obviously covering something.

“Hold on.  I think I know how it got down here.”  Said the young woman as she straightened up.  In her hand was a human skull.  “It looks like somebody brought it down with them.  Poor bastards.”  She set the skull asid and pulled out another one and stopped.  “What the hells…”

The elongated skull in her hand was almost black, though not with the appearance of age.  The back of it had been bashed in with something large.  The front though wasn’t human.  The eye sockets were almost the size of the small woman’s palms and the mouth round and filled with sharp teeth, almost lamprey like.  “Ugh.”  She dropped the skull off to the side.

Ashimar shook his head.  He had no idea what it was either.

Kestral moved a couple more bones and then stopped.  Looking up gravely at her companion a slow smile of satisfaction started to form.  “We’re rich.”  Her hands reached down into the small pit and the tinkle of coin against coin could be heard.  “Silver, gold, and platinum.  There must be thousands of coins here and most of it is gold.”  She whistled softly and her hands came up bearing two platinum bracelets set with aquamarine and tourquoise.  “I take it back.  We’re _very_ rich.  There’s a scroll case here and nice looking dagger too.”

Ashimar stepped off his precarious perch of rock bearing the pelts.  He laid them on the ground next to Kestral.  “Let’s gather this all up then.”  He said, kneeling down next to her and scooping coins onto the pelt.  “We’ll throw it in the hut and head back to Carmeneren.  Maybe she can help us.  Maybe not.  If she can’t, there use to be a place called Silver Well where a person could ask Vieta to bring a soul back in return for a sacrifice.”  He looked back at the hut.  “Hopefully we have enough for two sacrifices.”

Kestral nodded and started scooping coins.  Not much else needed to be said.


----------



## Seravin

The DM is a pinhead.    

Apologies for the last post.  As Wynterwolf so kindly pointed out, it was Kellron who died and Ashimar who helped Kestral loot the troll caves.

It's been corrected.


----------



## Seravin

*In the Caves of the Svirfneblin*

_Ice-blue is the commonest eye color amongst the svirfneblin and in the dusty tomes of the deep gnomes it is sometimes referred to as the sapphire inheritance.  Legends say that that the First Gnome, Callarduran Deephands was shaped by Tasa from the gems deep within the earth and that he in turn formed the svirfneblin from the purest of sapphires.  Those who lack the ice-blue color are thought to have other bloodlines mixed into their heritage, though Carmeneren’s folk had no knowledge of any gnomes formed from emerald, jet, or ruby. _

Ice-blue eyes looked upon the two shroud-wrapped corpses laid out about the cold, stone floor.  One of the bundles was large and had clanked when laid carefully upon the floor, the other was smaller though still larger than any of the gnomes.  

The scouts had preceeded the news of course, but Carmeneren had already known.  The earth sang to those who heard and the most recent song was of cleansing and death.  The trolls were reduced and the sacred caves were less befouled than before, but the cost had been high. _’Though not as high as I thought it most likely would have been.’_ Reflected the aged priestess.  _The Topknots may have been the smaller group but they were the most dangerous and now they are dead; no doubt feed for the Slaverer’s.’_  Given the solemn moment, the priestess did not let her disgust appear upon her face lest she make an unforgiveable offense to the three that stood nearby.

The two…humans (_’Such a strange word.’_) had borne their companions here within their portable shelter.  The smaller one, even smaller than the gnomes, looked anxiously between the corpses and Carmeneren.  She was…rather had been soul-linked to the sorceress.  Now bereft of the link the cat was hesitant and unsure.

The reward had been good and the sacrifice had been borne by those other than her clan for once.  But sure as stone was solid, the gnomes would not be able to enjoy the reward unless they were prepared to make their own sacrifice – and there were still the Slaverer’s to deal with as well as the other creatures.  

Carmeneren looked up to the smallest human, the friendly one who had learned the true language so readily.  “On behalf of my people and the spirits of the stone, thank you.  That you would risk…and pay so much on behalf of my people honors us greatly.  True you risked as much for the information we can provide, but even there your trust honors us.”

The little gnome-woman took a deep breath.  “I will speak to the stones on your behalf and ask that Callarduran intercede with the Soul-Taker.  If the Soul-Taker agrees and if your friends have no pressing duties in the next incarnation, I will use what powers the stones grant to restore their lives.”

At Carmeneren’s words Kestral visibly relaxed and she quietly translated to for Ashimar and Sarah; the cat stopped her nervous pawing of the rock floor.

“Further.”  Whispered Carmeneren, then catching herself she spoke louder.  “Further, I will sacrifice our clan’s only two sacred sapphires, that your friends will remain undiminished in the journey back to their mortal frames*.  I will do the last though only upon the condition that you agree to remove the group of troglodytes that have moved into the caves between the Topknots and the Slaverer’s.”

Kestral translated quickly and then she and Ashimar discussed it.  Carmeneren caught the tone.  “These are the clan’s only two sapphires and represent our link to Callarduran himself.  Understand I only offer them because the troglodytes currently inhabit the most sacred cave in that complex.  The troglodytes hide there in fear of the trolls, though the trolls cannot stand their stench and leave them alone.  In and of themselves the reptiles are far weaker than the trolls though and my people could drive them out eventually; however we would likely suffer our own costs so I make this sacrifice now.”  She looked between the two humans.  “What say you?”

Kestral and Ashimar discussed it a bit more and then Kestral knelt down to speak with Carmeneren directly.  “We accept.”  She said simply.

Carmeneren nodded.  “In the morning I will speak to the stones.  Presuming they wish to, I will call back the sorceress first and then your warrior-friend on the following day as the magics are taxing.

_Three weeks pass on the surface of the earth, though it is hard to tell the passage of days when so far below ground.  True to her word Carmeneren speaks to the stones and asks Callarduran to intercede with the Soul-Taker on her behalf.  Evidently he does, for first Jallarzi makes the passage back followed by Kellron on the next day.

Neither spoke of their experience while dead, though some folk who have made the journey before say that the Soul-Taker is a pleasant enough woman.  Perhaps neither Kellron nor Jallarzi remembered or perhaps the experience was too personal.

Regardless, the four young folk were fore-warned of their foes and their terrible rending strength as well as their weakness to fire.  The svirfneblin gladly hosted the foursome while they prepared and aided where they could.

Jallarzi asked for a workshop and was shown to a dusty cave filled with web covered vials and alembics.  The former owner, Torvoglen was no more but surely would have allowed her to use his alchemical lab.  The svirfneblin gladly provided the young woman with all the supplies she wished to purchase and then she went to work.

Ashimar spent his first few days in mediation and contemplated the events of the recent past.  Realization came hard to him as he realized that he had stretched their line until it had been too weak to hold.  Showing that he was a true son of Sarath he faced the truth head on and did not flinch.  In a meeting with Carmeneren Ashimar sold his precious enchanted boots.  In return the gnomes took Ashimar’s armor and added further strengthening enchantments and provided him with a handful of potions.  Both sides were satisfied.**

As for Kellron, he spent his time in prayer and fasting, dealing with whatever he had learned while he was dead.

And Kestral?  Kestral made a point of being everywhere, doing her level best to meet every gnome and make the entire community her friend.  In every sense of the word it could be said Kestral succeeded._***


-------------------------
_*I used power components to turn a resurrection into a true resurrection.  Sadly I lost DM points here as I succumbed to guilt at killing Kellron and Jallarzi.  Rather than reveling in the kills I focused on the mistaken use of rend damange in place of the troll’s normal claw damage.  Still not only did I learn not to make that mistake again but I taught the players that their characters could die in this game.    

**Let me say here that I was impressed with Wynterwolf’s decision.  He called me a few days after the game and we talked about what had happened.  He voluntarily offered up the boots.  I’d like to say I’d make the same decision, but truth to tell I’m not sure I would even have thought of it.

***It went something like this:
"All right, let's roll to see how the gnomes like you in general.  Individuals may view you differently, but this is for general purposes."
"Natural 20!  Plus twelve makes 32."
"Hmph."
_


----------



## Mortepierre

Seravin said:
			
		

> I used power components to turn a resurrection into a true resurrection.  Sadly I lost DM points here as I succumbed to guilt at killing Kellron and Jallarzi.  Rather than reveling in the kills I focused on the mistaken use of rend damange in place of the troll’s normal claw damage.  Still not only did I learn not to make that mistake again but I taught the players that their characters could die in this game.




Honestly, DM to DM, I don't think you lost any points. That "rend" mistake cost your players two characters. Furthermore, not only would they have died, they would also have had to swallow the penalty for being brought back to life. IMHO, turning this into bargaining chip for the gnome cleric was both decent and inspired. Inspired because it furthered the adventure, decent because you needed to make up for that mistake (at least I would have, had I been in your shoes). The fact that it taught them their characters _can_ die in your campaign is just icing on the cake  

Morover, I don't think it ever pays to "revel" in your players' death. It turns the game in a "them vs me" conflict and the story usually ends up paying the bill


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## maveric28

*thoroughly enjoying this*

Mostly, I'm posting so I can subscribe to this thread... you'd think there would be some button I could hit to do that, hmm?  But also, wanted to tell you that you're doing a great job and although I'm nowhere near the end... I've barely begun, in fact... I'm really enjoying reading this thread.  It's inspired me to dust off an old manuscript I'd started of my old Night Below campaign and finish writing it myself.  My party never finished it, having petered out close to the end of the second book, but I'm certain I could improvise the story and continue, using their characters to finish this epic quest.  Thanks for the inspiration.


----------



## Seravin

Mortepierre said:
			
		

> Honestly, DM to DM, I don't think you lost any points.
> That "rend" mistake cost your players two characters. Furthermore, not only would they have died, they would also have had to swallow the penalty for being brought back to life. IMHO, turning this into bargaining chip for the gnome cleric was both decent and inspired. Inspired because it furthered the adventure, decent because you needed to make up for that mistake (at least I would have, had I been in your shoes). The fact that it taught them their characters _can_ die in your campaign is just icing on the cake



Well...that particular note was meant to be funny more than anything else.  I'm told my sense of humor is a little dry sometimes.    

I remember thinking long and hard what to do about that.  It was entirely possible Kellron and Jallarzi would have bought the proverbial farm anyway, but the fact is in this particular case they died because I misinterpreted the rules.  My preference was a True Ressurection (no harm, no foul), but I couldn't just give away two of them.  So I compromised.

Thank you for the compliment.  I like to believe I'm pretty good at modifying the plot when I have to - though I don't do it 'on-the-fly' very well.  Given time though, I do pretty well.



> Morover, I don't think it ever pays to "revel" in your players' death. It turns the game in a "them vs me" conflict and the story usually ends up paying the bill



Absolutely correct!  I agree wholeheartedly with this statement.  Call it more of my dry humor. 

Module Tip: On a more serious note, I have found that the massive combats in the 2nd book can prove distressing to some DM's.  Many of the encounters are with lots of low level critters who may or may not have a good tactical position.  Frequently these low-level critters also lack magic, so there's no tactical or strategic flexibility.

I found it repetetive and sometimes demoralizing fighting essentially the same combat over and over and over (same dungeon, different stats).  The players always won with little or no loss of resources - they weren't even winded.

I eventually got over it - though I did find on occasion that I could become gleeful when the little evil bad guys would score a telling blow.  It wasn't their fault they were just fodder after all; but perhaps I empathized too much.    

What I did to break things up was to introduce a couple side adventures.  One of them is coming up shortly - just after the trolls in fact.  It was a minor little adventure but it opened up another plot line not too far down the road that the players still remember; and it tied in quite well with the overall plot.


----------



## Seravin

maveric28 said:
			
		

> Mostly, I'm posting so I can subscribe to this thread... you'd think there would be some button I could hit to do that, hmm?  But also, wanted to tell you that you're doing a great job and although I'm nowhere near the end... I've barely begun, in fact... I'm really enjoying reading this thread.  It's inspired me to dust off an old manuscript I'd started of my old Night Below campaign and finish writing it myself.  My party never finished it, having petered out close to the end of the second book, but I'm certain I could improvise the story and continue, using their characters to finish this epic quest.  Thanks for the inspiration.




I'm a Muse!
Thank you and welcome to the thread.  I haven't been updating as much as I'd like to over the past few months, but I'm hoping to speed up again.  
There's a gentleman by name of Leopold who is also doing a NB story hour - I suggest you take a look at his too.  

Do you plan on posting what happened to the boards?  Or are you writing for its own sake?


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## Seravin

maveric28 said:
			
		

> Mostly, I'm posting so I can subscribe to this thread... you'd think there would be some button I could hit to do that, hmm? But also, wanted to tell you that you're doing a great job and although I'm nowhere near the end... I've barely begun, in fact... I'm really enjoying reading this thread. It's inspired me to dust off an old manuscript I'd started of my old Night Below campaign and finish writing it myself. My party never finished it, having petered out close to the end of the second book, but I'm certain I could improvise the story and continue, using their characters to finish this epic quest. Thanks for the inspiration




Oh, I almost missed it.  Welcome to the Boards too!


----------



## Mortepierre

Seravin said:
			
		

> Well...that particular note was meant to be funny more than anything else.  I'm told my sense of humor is a little dry sometimes.




Oops, sorry   



			
				Seravin said:
			
		

> I remember thinking long and hard what to do about that.  It was entirely possible Kellron and Jallarzi would have bought the proverbial farm anyway, but the fact is in this particular case they died because I misinterpreted the rules.  My preference was a True Ressurection (no harm, no foul), but I couldn't just give away two of them.  So I compromised.
> 
> Thank you for the compliment.  I like to believe I'm pretty good at modifying the plot when I have to - though I don't do it 'on-the-fly' very well.  Given time though, I do pretty well.




Well earned, if I do say so myself   



			
				Seravin said:
			
		

> Absolutely correct!  I agree wholeheartedly with this statement.  Call it more of my dry humor.
> 
> Module Tip: On a more serious note, I have found that the massive combats in the 2nd book can prove distressing to some DM's.  Many of the encounters are with lots of low level critters who may or may not have a good tactical position.  Frequently these low-level critters also lack magic, so there's no tactical or strategic flexibility.
> 
> I found it repetetive and sometimes demoralizing fighting essentially the same combat over and over and over (same dungeon, different stats).  The players always won with little or no loss of resources - they weren't even winded.
> 
> I eventually got over it - though I did find on occasion that I could become gleeful when the little evil bad guys would score a telling blow.  It wasn't their fault they were just fodder after all; but perhaps I empathized too much.
> 
> What I did to break things up was to introduce a couple side adventures.  One of them is coming up shortly - just after the trolls in fact.  It was a minor little adventure but it opened up another plot line not too far down the road that the players still remember; and it tied in quite well with the overall plot.




I know exactly what you mean given my players are currently up to here <shows neck> in Book 2. Fact is, I turned to the old *Queen of the Spiders* module for inspiration. There were a lot of prospective encounters described p.125-126 in that old accessory, and I used some of them to avoid boring my players to death with dry combats against trolls and other nasties.

Thanks to the updated Book 3 you forwarded me, I was able to spend more time working on Book 2. So, thanks again!


----------



## Seravin

Mortepierre said:
			
		

> Thanks to the updated Book 3 you forwarded me, I was able to spend more time working on Book 2. So, thanks again!




My pleasure, and I'm glad it was useful.   

Sorry for the delays, things got busy again and the post I had written didn't sound quite right, so I'm going to rewrite it.  I'll be in a cabin all weekend without internet access or much else, so I should be able to find a couple hours to do some writing.


----------



## Seravin

*A Council of the Wise*

The Library’s Council of Masters meets every third month, when both moons are high and full in sky, illuminating Avia’s Gift, the child-god’s shattered third moon.  So on the ninth month of the thirty-second year of Emperor Jaz’aldrin’s reign, the Council of Masters met within the Hall of Laton, a medium sized chamber cut deep within the pale gray rock of the Ercadian Mountains which surrounded the Library Valley.

Usual matters of discussion include helping settle disputes between Library members, how best to utilize the Library’s influence amongst the various governments, and deciding if non-Library wizards needed special ‘handling’.  Despite the importance of these meetings most of the attending masters resented their time away from their researches.  This prevailing attitude, more than anything else, kept the Library not only isolated but slow to react to change

Still the rumors of disappearing mages was enough to stir even this hide-bound council.  The opinions of the many attendees were, like themselves, varied.

From Master Abraylan, an elderly human and the acknowledged master of transmutational magics: “She’s just a child!  What does she know or possibly understand?”

“May I remind you that our patron, Avia, is also a child?”  Was the gentle rebuttal of Kerress Ryliegha, High Priestess to the Will of Avia.  

“With all due respect to the Lady of Chaos, there are histories going back thousands of years that record her name.  Hardly a child I think.”  This from Shalzerith, a master of no acknowleged specialty, but his sagecraft of the planes was rivaled by only a few other masters.

Kerress Ryliegha smiled and nodded at the retort.  “But still a goddess, the source of magic, and the one to discover the first principles of spell casting; all done while she was still a child.”

Master Rodderick, the foremost conjurer of the Library waved his hand to the vaulted ceiling.  “Perhaps you noticed our third moon?  The shattered one?  Made by the child?  Children make mistakes, especially when they don’t understand all that around them.”  

Kerress Ryliegha’s smile went away and was replaced with a frown.  Rodderick was a testy, grumpy man who detested sloppy logic.  She favored the graying mage with a hard look.  “Your point?  Trying or failing in an action does not prove the preceeding knowledge erroroneous; it may just be insufficient.  Do you believe that this apprentice Jallarzi is in error or only insufficiently informed?”

Master Rodderick grinned faintly.  He had tweaked the priestess, and it was rare enough that he had the chance.  “Neither in this case.  As you may know, my nephew, Journeyman Param Haakinson lives near the Duchy of Larence.  When this news was first imparted to us I dispatched him to find what news he could.”

Master Shalzerith raised a neatly groomed eyebrow.  “Is this the nephew that took up with that Nadarani barbarian woman?  Who espouses the nonsensical theory that the use of material components weakens a wizard and thus disdains the use?  The same journeyman I believe I’ve heard you dress down for using the excuse so as to sleep through is tutelage?”

Now it was Master Rodderick’s turn to frown.  “Yes, that’s the one.”  He said as he turned to face Master Shalzerith fully.  “Though I believe you left out that he is responsible for aiding the Baron in Jeralin against a treasonous plot, discovered Master Carum’s hidden tomb, survived a trip through the Gray Mists to the Realms of Darkness, and aided in the routing of of the were-creatures lairing about Widdenbred Dale.  He also developed a unique spell for reading magic without the usual crystal while only an apprentice.*”  Rodderick took a deep breath.  “Yes.  That would be the journeyman I was referring to.”

Shalzerith pursed his lips momentarily and then nodded.  “By all means then.  Tell us what this amazing young man learned.”

“Not so amazaing.”  Disagreed Master Rodderick.  “I still disagree with his methods, but the results have been successful so far.”  Rodderick paused a moment to take a drink from the blue crystal goblet before him.  “More importantly, Journeyman Param has confirmed that some people capable of casting spells have disappeared.  Most of those who disappeared were known rogue-mages with no Library affiliation.  Most but not all; others who have disappeared include speakers for the various lesser cults who sometime travel about the duchies.”

Master Rodderick turned to survey the assembled masters.  “Worse, it only took a little investigation to discover that the disappearances have not been limited to the Duchy of Larence.  Merrick, Relk, Telif, and even the heartlands of the empire all boast missing spellcasters.  It is my considered opinion we need to discover why.”

Master Abraylan snorted and shook his head.  “You’re letting stories worry you Rodderick.  Next you’ll be wearing a lead-line cap to keep the witches from influencing your thoughts.  The simple facts are that wizards disappear.  It happens all the time, whether it’s a master who cares not for the Library’s rules, an overambitious journeymage who bites off more then he can chew, or a stupid apprentice that can’t keep from trying to make the local villagers fear him.  It happens and this Council will deal with those events as they come to its attention.”

Rodderick rolled his eyes.  “No one is suggesting that you inconvenience yourself Master Abraylan.  The Lady of Chaos knows that we don’t want those who cannot see investigating this.”

Shalzerith interrupted and his words surprised all.  “That’s quite right Rodderick.  I’m not sure if I believe all of this as yet, but I think you have brought enough to this council to warrant further investigation.  As I have nothing pressing at the moment, I will volunteer to lead it.”

Kerress Ryleigha nodded.  “That is generous of your time Master Shalzerith.  Any aide I can give is also at the Council’s disposal.”

Master Rodderick grunted his acceptance.  “Hrumph.  Very well.  I will travel to area around the city of Rennon.  It seems central to the disappearances throughout the Empire.”

Master Shalzerith smiled.  “Of course, but be sure to bring a few journeymages.  I think I will bring Szandur with me.  She has just passed her Master’s test but I believe she will be more than willing to join me.

_There were more to the discussions of course and even more topics covered, but most decisions were tabled for another time._


-----
*As you might be able to tell, Param is an actual player character.  To the point, Kestral’s player ran Param several years ago when I was just starting out with the dm’ing gig.  In point of fact the player had picked out every wizard spell without material components and made it Param’s spell list – and this was under 2ed.  Param was an interesting character.

_<edit - Param's player used a list of spells without material components - not verbal.>_


----------



## Seravin

*Interval*

_Many weeks passed before the party of four started out again; but eventually they did start out, better armed and better prepared for the dangers ahead.  On the day before Fall Festival, the celebration of the harvest, Ashimar, Kellron, Kestral, and Jallarzi left the small caves of the svirfneblin.  Unfortunately these wayward humans had lost track of time and only vaguely knew that it was fall.

The journey back to the troll tunnels was uneventful except for a minor encounter with a grayish colored ooze.  As before, the group decided upon an immediate foray into the troll caves before settling down in their own hidden cave.  Kellron and Ashimar wished to assess the strength of their foe, Kestral didn’t really care one way or the other, and Jallarzi wanted to try out her new wand of fireballs.

It didn’t take them to long to find their quarry, four trolls scavenging in the cavern with the foul smelling fungus.  The fight was brief and not very remarkable anymore.  Sadly, four trolls were not much of a challenge to the group when they were prepared and looking for the fight.  A fireball from Jallarzi to soften them up before Kellron and Ashimar hacked their way into ravening, monstrous giants.  Then Kestral and Jallarzi would take care of those that fell.  Dangerous work, but hardly sporting anymore._

That night the group relaxed in their hidden cave and spoke with their svirfneblin guides.  

“It’s their damn noses.”  Exclaimed Ashimar.  “If we could somehow fool them, Jallarzi could sneak us all in invisibly and we wouldn’t have to worry about them tracking us back to the cave.”

Kellron looked at the two little cave gnomes who were eating quietly.  He caught Kestral’s eye.  “They must have encountered things like the trolls before.  Do they have anything that could foul the troll’s noses?”

Kestral shrugged and turned to the gnomes to ask.  The conversation went back and forth a bit and Kestral had to pantomime a few things until the svirfneblin scouts told her the words she was looking for.  She then looked back to Kellron.
“They say they know of such things.  They had an alchemist who figured out how to make anti-scent bags.  They apparently used the last of theirs today but could go back and get some more.

Kellron and Ashimar looked at each other.  “Can they make the bags here?”  Asked Ashimar, who was used to making home-made remedies to throw dogs off.

Kestral shook her head.  “No.  They said the ingredients include ooze stuff.”  She frowned.  “It’s kind of dangerous to make too.”

Kellron looked at the others and found agreement.  “Ask them if they would go get a few more bags – say ten or so.  We can pay for whatever it takes.”

Kestral nodded and turned to the two svirfneblin and passed on the request.  The two gnomes looked at each other and spoke quietly, then turned and gave their assent to Kestral, who in turn repeated it back to the others.  “They’ll do it.”  She then grinned.  “It’s not like we can’t afford it after the last haul.”

The svirfneblin were gone the next morning, having bid farewell to Kestral before they left.  It didn’t take long for any of the four friends to get bored waiting for the gnomes to get back.

-------------

The next evening the four friends found themselves back in their cave, sitting around their glowing amulets which gave off a welcome light in the deep cave.

“Not a bad day’s work.”  Commented Ashimar, full of satisfaction.  Five, count them, five trolls and two of the orange jelly-like things.”

Kellron grunted.  “We did pretty good.”  Agreed Kellron.  “But those last three trolls almost turned the tide.”

Ashimar shrugged.  There was no argument, but while that fight was more challenging then it should have been, the end hadn’t been in doubt.  

Kestral looked at the small flasks they had laid against the wall.  “Do you think we got the right sort of ooze-stuff?”  She asked.

“I don’t know.”  Admitted Jallarzi.  “But at least we tried and it gave us something to do today.”

“Speaking of which, what are we going to do tomorrow?”  Asked Kestral.  “It’ll be another three days before the svirfneblin get back.

“We could deal with the troglodytes.”  Suggested Kellron.

“The lizard creatures?”  Asked Ashimar.

“That’s them.”  Affirmed Jallarzi.  “We’re certainly doing the svirfneblin a favor by getting rid of the things.  They had an evil reputation.”

Ashimar mulled it over.  “Think we can take fifty of them?”

“We might not need to ‘take’ them.”  Reminded Kestral.  “We might be able to talk them into leaving.  They were probably trapped by the trolls.”

Kellron saw a potential disagreement brewing.  “We’ll see in the morning then.”  He told them.  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and this will be easy.”


----------



## Seravin

*The Pillars of the World*

Ashimar crept forward through the darkened tunnel, trying to use the irregularities in the walls for cover.  Three months of near constant danger had raised the new-made priest’s alertness to an uncanny level and he had learned to pay attention to what his senses told him.  There was a reason he volunteered to scout ahead for the party

The walls roze up to either side of him in the muted black and white vision conferred by Jallarzi’s spell, almost like some gargantuan creature had burrowed through the rock, leaving rippled striations in the rock.  The air was cool this far beneath the ground, but not quite frigid, and filled with a strange, musky scent.   The predominant sounds were that of Kellron’s clanking armor some thirty feet behind him and the minute, scuffing sound his own feet made as he padded down the dusty, rocky tunnel.

“Tik.  Shsst.”  Two sounds in the darkness, so faint they almost weren’t heard.  For a moment Ashimar wasn’t sure he had heard them, but he stopped anyway and peered to the edges of his spell-enhanced vision.  

There.  Almost fifty feet away, where the tunnel widened from its fifteen foot width to twenty five feet, were two lumps.  Even with good light a casual observer wouldn’t have noticed the lumps, but Ashimar saw the break in the pattern of the walls.  Two creatures were there, hiding underneath expert camouflage and they were holding something in their hands just behind the curve of the walls; those somethings were almost certainly weapons.  The creatures were apparently waiting expectantly though it was hard to tell at that distance with their camouflage.  He wasn’t sure if they saw him or not.

A clank from behind reminded Ashimar that even if the creatures ahead (almost certainly troglodytes) didn’t see him yet, they almost certainly knew of Kellron behind him.  One of the creatures shifted slightly and finally showed the spear it had been hiding, bringing it to a near-ready position.  

That decided it for Ashimar.  “Jallarzi!”  Called out the former rogue.  “Ambush!  About fifty feet ahead of me!”

----

_Drkt’lok was the eldest scout of the tribe and it was his duty to slow and hopefully deter the trolls before they came down this holy tunnel.  If need be he would die defending the holiest cave from the trolls; though if it came to a fight he probably would die against the ravening beasts.

The clanking sound had been coming closer and he wondered if it heralded the death that had come to the Topknots.  Certainly no troll made metal noises.  Drkt’lok signaled his companions to ready themselves, best to be ready just in case.  If they were trolls they would release their musk from hiding.  If it was the troll-death they would do the same, or perhaps bargain with it if it was willing.

Then came the shout and Drkt’lok swore.  He hadn’t seen the orc-sized creature get that close.  Briefly he wondered what it was yelling.  Then there was a higher pitched voice from further behind the orc-creature and Drkt’lok’s world exploded in fire._

-----

“Hells!”  Swore Ashimar.  “There were more of them than I thought and I think one got away.”  He started to move down the hallway.  “I’ll go after it.”

“No.”  Disputed Kellron.  “I can’t move fast in this armor and we’re not splitting up.”

Ashimar came up short and then nodded.  “So what do we do?  Go after them?”

The time-lost paladin of Sarath looked at the fire-scorched walls about them.  “We could wait for them here and let them come to us.”

So words to deed, the foursome prepared themselves and waited.  They didn’t have to wait long.

-----

_Ruk’tk the Great, chieftan of the Bone-Dagger troglodytes, snarled at his scout’s report and almost killed the scout for the news he brought.  Revenge would have to wait though, for the troll-killers were apparently coming here.  After this was over he would disembowel the scout and feed the hearts to the women of the tribe.

Ruk’tk thought fast.  The troll-killers were probably looking for more trolls to kill and treasure to take.  They wore armor of metal and conjured magic fire.  The chieftan wondered if it was possible to talk to the troll-killers.  It wasn’t something Ruk’tk normally considered, but these strangers had wiped out the Top-Knots to a troll and took all their goods. 

“Gather with me and we’ll meet these killers.”  He barked to his tribe.  “Bring the spears and knives.  We will meet them all at once and see what they want.  If they wish to fight they will die.  If they wish to talk, we will send them to the troll and feed well on cooked troll-flesh.”

There was a rumble of agreement.  Together they were strong._

----

“They’re out there.  I can hear them.”  Reported Ashimar.  

Kestral nodded her agreement.  While her senses were not quite as acute as Ashimar’s, the young woman was still capable of paying attention to what she heard.

“It would be better if we make them come to us.”  Remarked Ashimar.  “We don’t want to get in the open cave and get surrounded by all of them.”  Unspoken was that leaving Jallarzi and Kestral undefended would be a bad tactical decision.

Unspoken but not unheard.  Kellron finally nodded and looked at Kestral.  “Can you provoke them into charging us?”

Her eyes widened slightly at that and Kellron shrugged and pointed to the still smoking corpses behind them.  “It’s not like we haven’t already provoked them.”  He pointed out.  “We might as well try and get them to do what we want.”

Kestral nodded and turned to face down the tunnel and shouted out something.  No one understood it, but everyone flinched at the vehemence.  Kestral coughed slightly, clearing her throat and said something different this time, though it sounded just as foul.

There was a moment of silence and then there was a cry of rage.

“I don’t know what you said, but here they come.”  Said Kellron.  

Kestral got her bow ready and moved back to stand beside Jallarzi.  “You’re too nice to know.”  She told him as she moved past him.*

----

_The troglodytes came upon the four adventures in two waves.  The first wave was repulsed, blasted really, as they bunched up around Ashimar and Kellron.  The two warriors held them off long enough for Jallarzi to lay down a fireball from her wand.  

The troglodytes were fanatical though for they had nowhere else to go and their honor had been wounded.  On orders the troglodytes fighting Kellron and Ashimar broke ranks and rushed to the back ranks looking for the spellcaster.  Ashimar lashed out a few times as these creatures left combat with him, as did Kellron, but then the second wave of troglodytes broke over the pair.

The fighting became fast and furious and Kestral was forced to drop her bow and draw her blade while Kellron and Ashimar fought their way back to defend the wizard.  Jallarzi needed very little defending though, laying about with magic missiles and flaming spheres.  The musk of the troglodytes was nauseating to all, but the four surface-folk shrugged it off as they laid about them.

Then the trolls came.

Three of the ugly brutes, attracted by the explosions and the flashes of light, and they came from the tunnel behind Jallarzi and Kestral.  As the first troll laid into Jallarzi she experienced a flash of deja-vu as a deadly claw pierced her bracer’s magical armor and slashed through cloth and skin.  Fortunately her protections held against the rest of the assault. 

Kellron broke away from the troglodyte he was fighting and moved towards the trolls.  Ashimar was less able, caught up with four troglodytes, including the largest of them who appeared to be the chieftan.

The fight lasted over two minutes from start to finish and when it was done not a troll or troglodyte was left standing.  Kellron invoked Sarath’s grace to heal his companions and what he could not heal was set to right with the potions they carried.  Cautiously they proceeded into the great cavern the troglodytes had been lairing in; a huge cavern some one hundred and fifty feet across and almost three hundred feet long, with the ceiling vaulting up overhead out of sight._

----

It stood before the four of them, rising up out the ground like some massive pillar raised to lift the vault of heaven itself; a gray and black column of rock some twenty feet around and rising up to the ceiling well out of sight of their enhanced vision.  

“What is it?”  Whispered Kestral, a touch of reverence in her voice.

“A Pillar of the World.”  Replied Jallarzi.  “A gift of Tasa, the world-mother and builder of bodies.  Panther told me a story of them one night.  If you leave a gift for the guardian it is said that she will take impurities from your body, healing the gifter and making them stronger.”**

The four friends conferred briefly on what they should do.  In the end they decided.  Digging into their bags and opening the hut to look through their foot lockers, the group took out four thousand golden lions worth of gems and coins and laid them against the pillar

At first nothing happened and then there was a sound, like rock flowing against rock and a figure stepped out of the stone column, leaving no trace of its exit.  The figure stood over ten feet tall and was vaguely woman shaped, and was made of the same black and gray stone.  It looked upon the four friends.

_:You have rid these caverns of an ugly presence that would not observe the proper rituals.  You have my thanks and the thanks of Tasa herself.  Speak of what you wish and the goddess will remake you through me.;_

One by one the four friends stepped forward and made their requests and one by one those requests were granted.

Kellron asked for leadership ability and was given greater charisma.
Ashimar asked for wisdom and was so granted.
Jallarzi wished to become the most talented wizard and her intelligence was raised.
Finally, Kestral asked for both mental and verbal quickness and found that her dexterity and charisma were modestly enhanced (the bonuses were split).

----

*Kestral’s player wasn’t there that session.  She had been discussing trying to find a peaceful solution to the troglodyte problem.

**This wasn’t in the module.  I wanted to see how stat enhancers would affect the game so put this in to see if anyone would purchase a +2 stat increase – they all did.  

As I said earlier, I accidentally wrote Panther out of this sequence.  In the actual game he was the person who recognized it (love bardic lore) and he was the first person to lay down his gift.  The others were trying to figure out how much money was a suitable gift, he just looked at his character sheet and said “I have 1000gp on me, I leave it all there.”  It was very cool.

On a side note, I didn’t find these little +2 inherent stat bonuses that unbalancing.

_edit: Thanks to Kestral's player again for catching all those little typo's._


----------



## Mortepierre

Seravin said:
			
		

> On a side note, I didn’t find these little +2 inherent stat bonuses that unbalancing.




Woa! 3 updates in 3 days. This feels like Christmas   

About those bonuses..

Did you treat them as a permanent increase to their stats or something inherent but that could be dispelled (and thus would prevent them from using magic items giving similar bonuses) ?


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## Seravin

Mortepierre said:
			
		

> Woa! 3 updates in 3 days. This feels like Christmas
> 
> About those bonuses..
> 
> Did you treat them as a permanent increase to their stats or something inherent but that could be dispelled (and thus would prevent them from using magic items giving similar bonuses) ?




 

They were inherent bonuses, exactly like a book gives.  Though in my game I allow the bonuses to stack up to a maximum of +5.  It hasn't been a problem to date.


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## RedShirtNo5

Wow!  I loose track of this thread for awhile, and you've got a bazillion updates!  Very enjoyable to get caught up.  I really like the use of activation of the elemental command ring as an RP opportunity.  This is giving me lots of ideas.

Most recently, my group just successfully bluffed the orcs into opening the doors - with no keys collected - and spent two sessions in the resulting combat.  Almost a TPK, but they pulled through.

RedShirt


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## Seravin

RedShirtNo5 said:
			
		

> Wow!  I loose track of this thread for awhile, and you've got a bazillion updates!  Very enjoyable to get caught up.  I really like the use of activation of the elemental command ring as an RP opportunity.  This is giving me lots of ideas.
> 
> Most recently, my group just successfully bluffed the orcs into opening the doors - with no keys collected - and spent two sessions in the resulting combat.  Almost a TPK, but they pulled through.
> 
> RedShirt




A bazillion and one updates shortly.  Apparently all the other SH writers are correct, you just have to sit down and write to get these posts out.    

Thanks for the praise and I'm glad my group is providing some ideas.  

The orc cave was a brutal fight, no other way around it.  Especially if you have the orcs attack in waves or if they find a way to surround the party.  Everyone in my group had fun in that fight though and they all worked for that victory.


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## Seravin

*The Task now Done*



			
				Mortepierre said:
			
		

> Woa! 3 updates in 3 days. This feels like Christmas




Happy New Year.    

This is probably the last post for the week.  The next installment actually veers away from the entire module for a little while.  The party and myself both needed some time from the trolls so I pulled out a little product called 'Den of Thieves' and got the party involved in a little bit of mystery and murder.
On the whole it wasn't as successfull as a later side-quest, but that was because I decided to focus more on Kestral and Panther (who's on-again/off-again player was currently in on-mode) and their diplomatic skills, leaving Kellron, Jallarzi, and Ashimar not as much to do for the first part.  

But this adventure allowed for a truly wicked sequel.    

--------------------------------

“Eleven trolls?”  Asked Carmeneren, using a spell of speaking to grant herself the Imperial tounge.  “That is all that was left?”  The gnome and her guests sat at low (for humans) table.  Indeed, the four surface-worlders found it easier to sit and kneel at the table while Carmeneren sat upon her ornate stone bench.

Kestral smiled deprecatingly.  “I wouldn’t quite say _all_ that was left.  Eleven trolls was certainly dangerous enough, and it’s not like we fought them all at once.”  Perhaps it was pride, but Kestral neglected to mention that a few of those final trolls had been diseased.  “The scary thing though was that lumpy, tentacled garbage monster that grabbed me.”

Carmeneren’s eyes glittered in the enchanted torchlight set out for the human guests.  “An otyugh is a dangerous creature.  That you fought one in addition to the trolls shows you are as skillfull as we had hoped and our faith was not misplaced.  She smiled, “You have our most profound thanks for clearing those caverns of the trolls and troglodytes, you have truly made this place that much safer.  We also thank you for telling us of the orc patrol you encountered on your journey back.”*  She motioned to one of her attendants who quickly marched over with a small bluish-stone coffer and placed it before the priestess.  He bowed low once and then marched back to his post.

Carmeneren nodded her thanks and continued to speak.  “However, you did not do this for free, so now is the time for our agreed upon payment.”  She looked to Ashimar and then to Kestral, Jallarzi, and finally Kellron.  “First though, I would like to personally thank you all for bringing back the body of poor Yurickrun and his belongings.  The dagger you returned was an heirloom of his family and they are quite grateful for its and his return.”  Carmeneren opened up the coffer and pulled out a small cloth bundle which she laid carefully on the table and unfolded.

Nestled within the folds of the cloth was a blue-green gem the size of Kellron’s thumb.  Carmeneren touched the crystal lightly and looked gravely at the group.  “They wished for me to give this to you, in appreciation and thanks.”

Kestral had been paying close attention to the rituals of the svirfneblin and so did not immediately rush to pick up the gem.  “We are honored by their gift.”  She said simply and sincerely.

Carmeneren bowed and folded the bundle up and placed it back in the small stone coffer, which she then moved to the side and promptly disregarded it for the box was no longer the property of her clan.  Instead she pulled out a rolled up piece of hide and unfurled it on the table before her.  

“We have created a map using our scout’s knowledge and bravery.  This copy is for you to use.  We are over here.”  She said pointing to one side of the map.  “A place known as the City of the Glass Pool is here, filled with a race of creatures called kuo-toa.”  This time she pointed at the opposite side of the map.  A group of surface-worlders passed down this central tunnel here not so long before you arrived.  We do know that they did not survive the journey and the members died off one by one as they continued down the tunnel.”  The priestess let that sink in.

“What’s this tunnel?”  Asked Jallazri, pointing to a side tunnel that was marked.”

“It says ‘great reptiles’.  We know there are two, great scaled beasts living in the caverns at the end of that tunnel.  None of my scouts who got close enough to discover what type of beast returned to tell us what they learned.  I would suggest you avoid the area for now unless you are truly confident of your abilities.  Even then I would not advise it though divinations sugges they have great treasures.”

“But it’s what beyond them that may prove most worthwhile.”  This was spoken impulsively by Carmeneren’s attendant, who had been shifting from foot to foot, barely able to contain himself.

Carmeneren glared at the young attendant who immediately shut up, embarrassed.  The priestess looked back to the party.  “He is young.  In truth we do not know what lies beyond the reptile caverns for the area resists all scoutings, scryings, and divinations.  Great magic lies there, and not evil I think, but we truly know not what.

Because of this, I would suggest you explore the main tunnel, gathering what strength you can along the way. This grand tunnel leads all the way to the City of the Glass Pool and that is where you will find the humans who have been brought down below.”

Kellron looked at the map.  “Will we meet these illithids along the way?”

The wisened little priestess shook her head.  “I do not believe so.  Those creatures have their own passages that they take their captives down.  That entrance to that passageway is warded and none of my clan my pass through it.  Being humans, you might be able to.  When you are ready we will take you there and you may try if you like.”

Carmeneren’s demeanor, normally grave, suddenly turned fierce, and even Kellron felt like stepping back momentarily.  “Just before you reach the City of the Glass Pool you will find the Diregund.”

The room in the air turned electric and it seemed as if every gnome in the chamber had hissed at the name.  Carmeneren’s face twisted in a mask of fury.  “When you find them, kill them.  Kill them all.  When they are dead you may return here and we will tell you what else we know of the kuo-toa and their cursed city.”

_The meeting did not end there of course.  As a natural diplomat, Kestral wouldn’t have let it.  The party soon discovered that the Diregund were a twisted race of maligned dwarfs who had nearly destroyed the svirfneblin in the area twice before.  Kellron was uncomfortable with this obvious hatred and demurred about wiping these Diregund out until he had leared more.  

However it was decided that they would follow the priestess’ advice and follow the main tunnel, assuming they couldn’t use the same passages that the illithids used; but that would be for later.  All of them wanted to go to the surface again for a little while.  Kellron wished to check on his inn and they all wanted to go to Corlean for various reasons.

That night the group was feasted and thanked again.  In the morning they set out for the surface.  First to Kupier’s house to collect their horses and then onwards to Thurmaster and finally Corlean.  They would be back again in a month if all went well._

----
* I don’t have a lot of notes on this, but memory recalls that this orc encounter was far more difficult then it should have been.  I think it was six orcs and they lasted almost eight rounds against the party in a 100ft of tunnel that had a slight curve that provided cover and broke lines of sight and effect.  The party was using lights since the darkvision spells from the wand had run out, so they were easily visible while the bulk of the orcs could stay out of the way.
The orcs were classed and included one sorcerer I believe and were essentially an advance scouting party looking into what had happened to the orcs from the caves above.  Not that the party ever found that out.


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## Seravin

On an interesting side note (for me at least).  I apparently have approximately 150 pages worth of story hour (letter sized, Times, 12pt).
That's kind of cool.

My written game notes are 133 pages long (same settings), which doesn't include the handwritten combat logs.  
Which I also think is kind of cool.

That's a lot of writing.
Many thanks to my players for making this little experiment fun.  
And thanks again to those of you who post your comments and encouragement.


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## rangerjohn

Posting to subscribe to thread.


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## Seravin

*Meanwhile, in Corlean,*

Welcome rangerjohn, I hope the SH pleases.  

------------------
It was the beginning of the third quarter of the year, just after the Fall Festival.  Winter was threatening to arrive early in the city of Corlean and there was chill in the air, but that didn’t stop the city’s inhabitants from going about their daily business; they just dressed warmer.

Imych Thassel, winner of last year’s Kerian College Hunt walked with no discernible purpose through the streets just north of the Central Square.  Despite the chill, he appeared to be quite comfortable in his dark silk and velvet clothing.  He cut quite the figure and he knew it, for his latest lady-friend had just finished telling him so – repeatedly.  

Imych grinned at the memory and began to whistle a merry tune.  Jaylissa was a sweet young woman.  For those who paid attention, her distant elvish ancestry was quite apparent, and Imych never tired of looking at the exotic looking young woman.  
She was fire and passion and inspiration….

The dagger was new-bought, fresh forged from a weapon shop popular with Sarathian officers.  Its blade was some twelve inches long and about an inch wide and incredibly sharp, though not enchanted.  

The new-made dagger was also coated with a gel saturated with an extract made from the poison of a wyvern.  The blade pierced Imych’s enchanted cloak that warded off the chill and easily slid through the young man’s black silk shirt; and the bard’s skin provided no protection at all.  The poison was quickly absorbed by the blood and quickly raced throughout the body, and whatever the poison touched, it killed.

Imych didn’t have time to scream or shout.  Only a small ‘Oh’, like a sigh as his heart and lungs shut down and the dark gray stone of the city walk rose up to meet him.  

“Quickly, heal the wound before he’s completely gone.”  The voice was cultured and spoken with the air of an affluent Corlean-ian.  Imych couldn't see the speaker as his sight blurred.  

Imych felt a slight touch and then a flood of light and warmth smoothed away the edges of the raw wound that bled angrily from his back just over his right kidney.  

“Good.”  It was the same voice and from the sound of it still standing.  There was the rustle of thick clothes and then Imych felt a hand touch his back as the cold stone walk started to cool the skin of his cheek.  His enchanted cloak warded off the worst of the chill though, so at least he wouldn’t die cold.

The same cultured voice spoke again, closer this time and in the language of dragons and magic.  “There, that fixes the cloak.  No stain and no hole.”  The voice sounded wholly satisfied.  “Just business you understand.”  Spoke the voice and then there was a pause.  “No.  I suppose you don’t.  Give Vieta my best.  Hopefully you’ll make better choices in the next life.”

_Imych Thassel, graduate of the Kerian Bardic College passed away on the second night following the Fall Festival.  The death of a man so young and vibrant was remarked upon with curiousity, but in the end the investigators declared that the man had a weak heart and too much to drink that night.  It was unfortunate really, for he was so talented.   The young bard would have been gratified to know that he did not leave the life un-mourned._

_<edit: Kestral's player noted that I didn't explicitly state this was in Corlean.>_


----------



## Seravin

*On the Road*

It was only a day since the four friends had left the svirfneblin community.  They had made good time in the tunnels once past the orc caves, had opted to take the tunnel that exited near Kupier’s farm.  The former scout, now farmer, was happy to see them this morning and had invited them in to breakfast.  Delilah, his wife, accepted the unexpected guests gracefully and quickly produced more settings and food for the four.  After the meal they had stayed only long enough to help with the morning chores and collect their horses.

Now Ashimar, Jallarzi, Kellron, and Kestral were pushing themselves hard onward to Thurmaster, for Kupier had delivered grave news.  Not a week before bandits had descended upon Thurmaster and their goal had been Kellron’s inn.  Fortunately no one was killed though some people had suffered minor hurts.  The inn had been less fortunate for the bandits had been intent on finding some ‘great store of gold’ hidden somewhere within the building.  

The bandits didn’t find what they were looking for before they were forced to flee however, for Count Parlfray’s guards were quick to respond to Thurmaster’s cry for help.  Kupier had then been summoned to track the bandits down for the good Count knew that wise lords didn’t let known thieves settle in their lands.  Only half the bandits had been caught though, hiding out in the forest.  The other half had decided to take their chance in the swamp.  No trace or trail of those bandits could be found.

Ashimar and Jallarzi were riding close together at the rear of the group, passing the time with pleasant conversation.  Neither spoke of their childhood except in the vaguest of terms, but they took a companionable pleasure in recounting their feelings on their recent experiences.  Both were dressed comfortably in their well worn, non-descript riding clothes, though Ashimar took obvious pride in wearing his bright mithril chain shirt.

Up taking point, Kestral sat proudly in the saddle with her shoulders back and her feet firmly in the stirrups which had been shortened to the closest notch to accomadate her small legs; only Kellron was the better rider amongst the four of them.  The young woman was dressed in fine black leathers, very like she had wished she could wear when she was just a simple courier not that long ago; the style was impeccable and was obviously tailored to her vanity.  The only trace of color was the jaunty leather hat dyed blue with a brim wide enough to block the sun from her eyes.

Squarely in the middle of the group rode Kellron, wearing his dented and scuffed plate armor with padding underneath.  The paladin looked at Kestral and made a sound almost like a sigh of resignation.  His thoughts then turned inward, churning over the events of their days in the endless nights below the ground; and the events that had occurred above the ground while they had been gone.  

According to Kupier, the damage to the inn was minor.  A few broken windows and doors and some smashed up furniture.  Apparently Garyld, the carpenter in Milbourne and an old scouting partner of Kupier’s had already offered to fix up some new doors and furniture at a good discount, so at least that was out of the way.  None of the girls had been hurt either, for which the paladin was profoundly grateful, but the bouncer Joe had his right arm busted in two places.  Kellron hadn’t met the bouncer before he had left; the boy was apparently a relative of Alice’s, his defacto steward while he was gone.

Kellron shook his head, reflecting he seemed to be doing that a lot of that lately.  There wasn’t anything he could have done for the inn while he was out.  There was only one of him after all, for now at least.  In the meantime he would have to figure out how to look after Joe, the boy… No, the man had stood up to the bandits for at least a little while.  He deserved better then weeks of painful, itching healing.

Then there was his performance in the endless night below the ground.  He had performed adequately and with honor he knew; but an honorable death wouldn’t necessarily help his friends.  Somehow he needed to move faster so he could keep up with Ashimar.  The young man was devilishly fast and still impetuous enough to want to be the hero.  Kellron didn’t necessarily mind that for he could admit there was an appeal to being the hero, but if he couldn’t figure out how to speed himself up then there were going to be more deaths in the future.  Compared to that, his quibble about the time it took to cause his swordblade to burst into flames was minor.

Kellron looked about at his companions again.  Jallarzi and Ashimar were trailing a little behind him, still passing the time in conversation.  They were talking about what they planned to do when they got to Corlean; their planned destination if all worked out in Thurmaster.  Jallarzi was talking animatedly about a new wand while she held Sarah in her saddle.

Up ahead, Kestral was whistling a merry little tune.  Her hat was now gone, revealing her hair done up in a mass of curls and braids held together with a silver comb in a style that would make any noblewoman preen with pride.  The black, sinister looking leathers were also gone replaced with a light blue velvet blouse and matching dress, slit up one side to allow her to ride.  He noted not quite absently that the one leg that was revealed was encased in white hose and she was wearing pale blue slippers.

Kellron shook his head again; he was certain it was a habit he wasn’t going to be giving up anytime soon.  The sorcerer-orc they had fought underground before meeting up with the svirfneblin the last time had been wearing a strange, magical hat.  Jallarzi had identified it as a magical hat that would alter a person’s guise.  Kestral had immediately asked for the hat saying how it would save on her wardrobe costs.  Kestral was no fluttering maiden though; she was a brilliant, determined woman with a silver tounge capable of tying a priest up in verbal knots.  Kellron was well aware that Kestral was smarter than him and wondered what sort of trouble she was going to get into.


----------



## Seravin

Just a short update.  This is the second rewrite as I didn't like the first.

It was all compounded by the new Eberron book and the Giants of Legends coming out.  The behir rocks though - I wish I had had it ten months ago.   :\


----------



## Seravin

*A Step Back in Time*

_Just a quick step back in time to relate a scene that will soon become important._

----------
_Some two months ago the arrival of five newcomers to the City of Corlean was remarked upon by a varied number of persons.  It would be untruthful to say that there was nothing special about these newcomers.  One was determined to be a member of the Sundering Sword and another was a new convert to the faith of Sarath.  Still another was a rogue wizard of half-elven descent and another was a bard of some moderate skill, also with elven blood.  The fifth?  Well, not every member of a group has to be special.  The fifth newcomer was a simple courier from places further south, special only in that she traveled with those of some note.

The new newcomer’s stay in town was brief and mostly uneventful.  There were rumors of trouble at a ceremony honoring the returning Paladin, but it was nothing mre than a simple pick-pocket being caught by the vigilant priests.  

For those with ears though there were other stories about these newcomers; stories of adventuring and heroism.  More interesting though were stories of wealth.  They had discovered the secrets of New Mire and had been well rewarded by the local landlord.  They had found the lair of bandits and had recovered many months of ill-gotten gangs.  Perhaps most interesting, they had found the lair of orcs and had recovered more wealth then even a lesser noble could expect to see in a year.

Still and all these were stories, but some stories have a kernel of truth at their center so eyes were sent to watch and ears set to listen.  These eyes saw a suit of full-plate commissioned and enchanted.  They further saw a shirt of mithril chain links purchased and paid for with gems and coin and a rapier enchanted by the smiths of the Church of Sarath.

The ears heard their share too and what they heard was that the stories only spoke truth.  Bandits had risen in the county of Haranshire and now lay dead and defeated.  The inn in Thurmaster had been paid for in coin by the paladin of Sarath.  The ears decided that it was quite possible the stories were understated.

So it came to pass that towards the last evening of the newcomer’s stay in Corlean, they found themselves wending their way home through the darkened streets to the inn called the Scabbard.”_

“I think we’re being followed.”  Warned Ashimar quietly.  “Two men behind us.”

Kellron’s hand drifted to his sword, still peace-tied but he was certain he could break it if he had to.  “Is that why you’ve been weaving and stumbling?”

“Yeah.  You guys go ahead.  I’ll duck into the alley when round the corner and have a talk.”

“I thought you were drunk.  You sure?”

Ashimar’s grin was hidden in the dark.  “Mostly.”

--------
Thomas and Brand quickened their pace and rounded the corner, unwilling to let their marks get too far ahead.  One of the marks had obviously enjoyed himself too much at the club they had left and had slowed the other four down; now they were trying to hurry back to their nest.  

Thomas had briefly thought of waylaying the group, thinking that drink had probably slowed all the marks down, but he wasn’t willing to risk it.  Besides, that wasn’t the job tonight.  The two men came to a sudden stop, seeing the change almost immediately.  The drunk one was gone.

A shadow stepped out of the alcove behind them.

“Ahem.”

The two men froze momentarily and they let their hands spread out from their sides, showing that they were unarmed.  Well, apparently unarmed.  They still had their knives hidden up their loose sleeves.

It was Brand who spoke first.  “Can we help you, Sir?”  He asked politely.  Brand was the soft-spoken, quiet one of the pair and he was the spokesperson when called upon.

Ashimar smiled.  “I’d like to know why you were following us.”

Brand cocked his head quizzically.  “I’m not sure that I understand, Sir.”

“You’ve been following us.  I know it.  You know it.  My four friends who have stopped up ahead and are now coming back this way know this.  I want to know why.”  Ashimar saw the uncertainty in both men’s eyes.  He was willing to bet that they didn’t normally have to talk to their choosen prey.  He tried a different tact.  “It’s all right.  I was in the business myself in Blasingdale.  I know it’s not personal.  Why don’t we have a drink and talk it over?”

Brand looked at Thomas who could only shrug.  Brand looked Ashimar squarely in the eye and answered.  “I guess there isn’t much harm in that.  There’s a tavern just up the street.  Not everyone though.”

Ashimar held his hand up to signal his friends.  “Not everyone at the table.  They’ll still be in the room.”

“Of course.”

--------------------
The tavern known as The Singing Harpy was quieter then the name implied.  Located near the central square, the tavern catered mostly to off duty soldiers and watchmen.  Neither Brand nor Thomas was entirely comfortable in the setting, but the job wasn’t about their comfort.

Ashimar, Brand, and Thomas were sitting down at a table.  Sitting nearby at another table was Kellron, Kestral, Jallarzi, and Panther.  The only person who looked happy was Ashimar.  The barmaid laid the drinks down at Ashimar’s table, and Ashimar put down a gold lion.  “Keep it.”  He told the woman.  She smiled at him reply as she bustled away.

“So.  Why were you following us?”  Asked Ashimar again.

Brand looked a little sheepish.  “You know how it is.”  He said, looking the room over again before turning his attention back to the former rogue.  “We heard the stories and were interested.”

“What sort of stories?”

“You know.  The money?”  Brand chuckled, trying to allay the man’s suspicion.  “Rumor says you dropped a thousand gold lions your first night in town and spent another five thousand over the last week.  People say that you folks recovered over fifty thousand lions worth of coin and jewels.”  The man shrugged.  “People talk like that and other people get interested.  You know what I mean?”

Ashimar chuckled back.  “You have to be careful of stories.”  He warned.  “They’re not always true.”

Both Thomas and Brand managed another set of sheepish looks.

“Sure we found some coin, but people exaggerate.”  Continued Ashimar.  “But nothing like that.  We only picked up ten thousand lions at the most and spent five hundred the first night.”

The former rouge missed it, but at the next table Kestral choked and then began coughing, almost spilling the rest of her drink across the table.  Kellron graciously assisted her in recovering.

Ashimar contined on, oblivious to the minor scene at the next table.  “So you see, there’s no reason to be following us anymore.  We’ve spent a good portion of it and what’s left isn’t worth the trouble.”

Brand looked at Ashimar for a long moment, sizing up the man’s statements.  “I see.  Well, that puts it in a different light.  I’m glad you decided to be civilized about all of this.”

Ashimar smiled expansively.  “Not a problem.  There’s no reason we can’t be reasonable, after all it’s not personal.”  He drained his cup and signaled the barmaid.  “Let’s have another couple rounds and you can go your way and let people know that the rumors are just rumors, and me and my friends can leave the city in peace and not hurt anyone.  Deal?”

Brand saluted Ashimar.  “Deal.”

--------
_Later that night._
“So that’s it?”  Asked Thomas to Brand as they made their way southward from the central square.

“That's it for tonight.”

“Pity they didn’t have any money.”

“I doubt it matters, and that’s not what he said anyway.”

Thomas looked at Brand quizzically.  “What do you mean?”

“He said they spent most of it.  Not all of it.  I bet they still have some coin to go around.”

“So?  Probably not enough to be worth it.”

“Not if it was coin.  But they spent the coin on something.  A lot of something’s I hear tell.  The boss said that one was going to be wearing a shirt of mithril real soon.  It doesn’t matter if they still have a lot of coin or not, they still have easily sellable stuff.”

Thomas’ expression turned feral.  “That’s why I like you Brand, you’re clever.  You think we’re going to get them tomorrow?”

“I just listen.  We’ll let the boss know what this Ashimar told us, but I doubt we’ll do anything tomorrow.  They have some ceremonial thing at the church of Sarath tomorrow and I doubt anyone wants to cause trouble tomorrow.  Maybe the day after.  

_Except that the five newcomers left the day following the ceremony, so neither Brand or Thomas got to confront the newcomers with more favorable odds.  Just as well really, they probably would have died if they had._


----------



## rangerjohn

Great descriptions, with the hat of disguise.   Keep up the good work.


----------



## Seravin

rangerjohn, thanks for the encouragement. 
I've been travelling a lot over the last six weeks and between that and not liking the first two drafts of anything I've written, I missed your post.  It got to the point that I was avoiding the SH forum just so not to remind myself that I wasn't writing.   :\ 
I think I started to find my stride again.  

Here's a short update, but I have the next couple mostly written, hopefully to be posted by Saturday.

---------------
_*A Description of Corlean*_

The Empire of Shtara is not the first body to hold the lands west of the Laren Mountains; merely the latest.  Approximately two-thousand years ago a conflict now called the Takeel Wars raged across the entire continent and nearby waters, shattering the kingdoms and empires of the time.

One kingdom, that scholars now called Dor-Heiravan (though it may have been an empire – the records are unclear) controlled the High Pass during the time of the Wars.  Then, as now, the High Pass was the only easy access to the lands north of the High Mountains.  Unlike now, the High Pass was wider then and not very defensible.  When tensions rose and the sparks that started the Wars flared, te Dor-Heiravan’s used their engineering knowledge and magical arts to make their end of the High Pass a virtual gatehouse.

Under the onslaught of wizards and priests, the mountains on either side of pass’ mouth were ‘encouraged’ to grow higher and closer together.  The few alternate routes that existed at the time were shattered and lost.  Within only a handful of years the south end of the High Pass was bracketed by walls of raw granite which soared hundreds of feet into the air.

The lands just south of the pass for miles around was leveled and raised, using both labor and magic, creating a flat landscape suitable for some farming to support the full time garrison that was stationed there.  Using clever tricks, water from the yearly snow melts was diverted to underground aquifers that eventually passed around the garrison; neatly negating the possibility of flash floods during the spring.

When the soldiers of the Shtaran Empire surveyed the High Pass hundreds of years later, they found that the High Pass was easily defensible and recommended the building of a keep upon the nearby ruins, and the creation of a wall to control access through the Pass and thus stop the occasional raiding from the northlands.  The surveyor’s report claimed that Sarath himself must have created the High Pass, it was so suited to defense.

Now, Corlean lies squarely in the mouth of the High Pass, her eastern and western flanks protected by the tall granite walls of the mountains themselves.  The North Wall of Corlean is the shortest in length, only about two thirds of a mile long, but rising some forty feet over the ground with only a single gate allowing passage.  The South Wall is longer than the northern one, actually protruding out past the towering walls of the Pass.  Ostensibly the South Wall was constructed to protect the merchants and farmers from the creatures in those early days of imperial expansion.  An argument has been made that the soldiers just disliked not having walls all around them.  Regardless of the reasoning, the South Wall runs well over a mile in length, but is only twenty feet high and three gates allowing entrance.

Carved into the granite walls flanking the city are two large shelfs which overlook the city.  The western shelf is walled and houses the Duke’s residence and keep.  From here he administers the city and his lands.  The eastern shelf, also walled, houses the Emporer’s soldiers, both those that are stationed in Corlean and those that travel through the city.  A single broad path leads up to each of these shelves, but both paths are easily defended by the keep each one leads to.  

In the center of Corlean is ‘The Square’, a large parade field paved with well worn flagstones.  The expanse of The Square is broken only by three large and magnificent, white marble fountains.  The Square was designed to allow all the troops in the city to congregate; a function it still performs to this day.  Standing on the west side of The Square is the city’s cathedral to Latina.  The Chuch-Keep of Sarath, called the Sword House, stands opposite the cathedral on the east side.  

The empire is not given to large populations in her cities, and despite being a trade town, Corlean has only around twenty-five thousand permanent residents; though this figure climbs significantly during the summer and fall seasons.  In general, the landed knights, earls, counts, barons, and the wealthiest of merchants live on the west side of the city, within low-walled residences, between the Duke’s Road and the cathedral.  Most merchants reside on the east side, while traditionally soldiers and city guardsmen live to the north.  Caravaners are most prevalent near the North and South gates.  The poorest areas of Corlean are in the northeast and southeast, well away from the low walls of the nobles.

Unlike the cities to the south, Corlean still holds proudly to its military past, catering to the soldiers and tradesmen that streams through it.  While gambling and prostitution are frowned upon by the upper class, both are legal and regulated in order to protect the soldiers.  Even the carrying of weapons is accepted though they must be peace-tied if not currently on active duty or a member of the watch.  Meanwhile, most of the silver and iron used in the northern duchies make their way through Corlean.


----------



## Seravin

*Sword House*

!!TANG!!

Ashimar’s slim rapier met the swing of the heavier Imperial longsword and sang out with a clear note as metal clashed with metal.  Seemingly impossibly, the slighter rapier held.  Ashimar grinned and settled back into a guard position as he allowed his opponent to comprehend that the rapier would not break by sheer might alone.

Both the young priest and his opponent were in the outdoor sparring yard, within the church-keep of Sarath; which was usually called Sword House by those who lived there.  It being late fall, it was a cool morning, but both men were sweating with the practice sword-play.  

Ashimar’s current partner was a young lieutenant, apparently also recently arrived to Corlean, though the young lieutenant had traveled southwards through the pass to reach Corlean.  Like Ashimar, the lieutenant had a fair amount of combat experience, though his was gained from patrolling the borderlands up north.

“I hated trolls the most.”  Spoke Ashimar, answering the lieutenant’s previous questions about the caverns deep below Haranshire.  He stopped talking as the lieutenant swung again, starting an exchange of blows that made both of their blades sing.

The lieutenant was well trained and had maintained his focus and discipline through years of training and preparing with the church.  In many ways he was the complete opposite of Ashimar whose own focus had shifted considerably over the last six months.  Oddly, both men, who were both near strangers to Corlean, got along very well.

“How so?”  Asked the lieutenant.  “What’s so bad about trolls?”  The lieutenant was strong and gave Ashimar the honor of not pulling his blows.  
“The bloody stories are true.  The things…uh…just…hmmf…won’t die.”  Ashimar punctuated his sentence with strong blows of his own.  His opponent met each one of them without qualm.

“You’re still here.”  Pointed out the soldier.  “So you must have killed them.”

Ashimar grunted as his opponent swung hard.  Normally a rapier wielder who wanted to keep his blade intact would avoid the direct blows of a heavier weapon; Ashimar had overcome his original trainging however.  Six months of training with Kellron though had given Ashimar his own unique style based on both power and speed.  

“We didn’t beat them with swords.” Started the priest, who suddenly lunged forward scoring a touch on the lieutenant’s armor, just under the armpit.

The lieutenant grimaced, but saluted gracefully, presenting his sword up parallel to his breastbone, the guard just six inches below his eyes.  He then stepped back and signaled that with a wave of his arms that they should take a break.  “How then?”

“Fire.  It’s the only way.  Kellron and I could only slow the damn things down.  They’re not that bright, but trolls are _strong_!  A solid punch from one of them can crumple armor.”  Ashimar shook his head at the memories as he and his new friend walked over to the water bucket.

“Still, if you’re good enough, you can drop one.  You can cave in its’ chest, gouge the eyes, and chop the head off.  The thing is that doesn’t stop them.  The troll just keeps coming.  Their flesh writhes as it heals and the thing will just continue to crawl after you, its’ wounds healing with every foot it travels.”  He dipped the ladel into the bucket and drank deep.  “Pierce the heart, drop it, and dig out the entrails and all you’ve done is buy yourself a minute, and only that much time.  Trolls are like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

He took a deep breath to ward away the memory.   “If you ever fight one get as much fire as you can; it’s the only thing that will stop the gooey mess you created out of its’ body from standing back up.”

Ashimar smiled.  “Fortunately we had Jallarzi.  She was able to bring down a rian of fire every time.”  His smile faltered for a moment.  “But don’t get overconfident, magic only goes so far.  If you find yourself separated, regroup immediately, even if you think you can handle yourself.  Your comrades might not be so fortunate, and Sarath help you if a group of trolls punch through your line."


----------



## Seravin

*The Library*

The Corlean Library sits quietly three streets south-east of The Square; separated from the surrounding buildings by several well groomed lawns.

The Corlean Library consists of three large buildings.  The central building is three stories and made of brick and wood; formerly a mansion for a well-to-do merchant family it stands with a stately, quiet elegance.  Only full members of the Library are allowed past the well appointed waiting rooms without an escort.

The central building is flanked by two long, narrow brick buildings that stand two stories high.  The North Building serves as a sort of dormitory for students and visiting teachers.  While the South Building contains classrooms, a lab, and two smaller libraries devoted to history, philosophy, and nature.  The Corelean Library enjoys the distinction of providing the finiest non-magical education a person can receive outside of actually joining the Library as a wizard*.  The masters of the Library provide this service for the dual purpose of generating income and allowing apprentices and journey-folk to integrate with the scions of the wealthiest families in the Empire.

Master Wymeah is an older, disciplined woman; much closer to the year of her first century than the year of actual birth; though her magic makes the reverse appear to be true.  Long a member of the Library, Master Wymeah enjoys both teaching and the northern clime of Corlean.  One of the three permanent on-site master’s assigned to the Corlean Library, she is second only to Master Asuras in seniority and had appointed herself the de-facto headmistress of the students; a situation Master Asuras appreciated as it allowed him the opportunity to deal with the nobles and the wealthy of the city and gave him time to devote himself to his specialty of divination.

Dressed in the traditional white teach robes of the Library and her silver hair swept back into a tight bun,  Master Wymeah looked primly austere.  She bore her (visible) age lines with an uncaring grace as if to say they were unimportant.

Today, Master Wymeah was in the Corlean Library Spell Room #1, a set of rooms actually which lay beaneath a mountain range far to the southeast of Corlean.  She and the Corlean Library’s newest apprentice were seated comfortably in the back of the well-kept main chamber, refreshments laid out between them.  The lace tablecloth and fine crystal glasses made for an interesting contrast to the blackened and melted rock wall some one hundred feet away.

The prim master looked over her apprentice with a gaze that gave away very little, though Jallarzi could tell that Master Wymeah’s eyesight was currently magically enhanced; but that was all she could from the master’s gray eyes.  The frustration in Master Wymeah’s voice was all too evident, though Jallarzi could not tell the source of it.

“Please correct me if I am wrong.”  Spoke the woman after Jallarzi had finished her tale.  The master had interrupted Jallarzi’s tale of the past months with only a few interruptions.  “In the past two months since you were last here, you and your companions engaged a tribe of orcs, escorted their women and children to safety, and befriended these rock-folk who have indicated that they have information on the creatures directing the orcs and bandits in kidnapping those with mage-talent?”  The elder wizard piercing eyes demanded an answer from the apprentice.

Clearly uncomfortable, the apprentice nodded.  “Yes ma’am, that is correct.”  Jallarzi allowed herself a brief moment to wonder when the interview was going to be over so she could ask for access to the advance spell research libraries.

Master Wymeah didn’t sniff at the answer; quite.  “I see.  That was a good job if I may say so.  Allies are always important so long as you think you can trust them.”

Jallarzi nodded automatically.  “I believe we can, Master Wymeah.”

“Good.  These same rock-folk believe that creatures called illithid are responsible, but before they would tell you more, they wanted you and your friends to prove that you were capable of safely using this information.  To this end they assigned you the task of cleaning out not one, but two large nests of trolls.”

Again Jallarzi nodded, not understanding where this was going.  Master Wymeah’s tone was nearly accusatory.

“If I recall correctly, the last time you left her, your most advanced spells consisted of turning ivisible and conjuring acid; small amounts of acid.  Perfectly acceptable for a senior apprentice though I admit it was surprising for such a new apprentice to the Library.  Tauster taught you well.”

Jallarzi shifted uncomfortably, wishing Master Wymeah would get to the point.  Briefly she considered starting a conversation with Sarah, but she sensed that wasn’t exactly a good idea.

Sadly, the point of the conversation seemd long in coming.  “If I counted correctly, the nest total was approximately fifty trolls?  My.  I dare say that as far as tests go, The Library has never administered one that seemed so immediately final, though a few apprentices would disagree.  Yet still you succeeded.  You and your friends should be congratulated.”

Master Wymeah’s eyes glittered in the enchanted light of the Spell Chamber and they caught Jallarzi’s violet colored eyes squarely.  “Not only did you defeat these trolls, you also increased your studies in the meantime, extrapolating how to evoke fireballs and a hastening spell.  Further you created your own wand of fireballs.

The questioning was going somewhere, Jallarzi just couldn’t see where.  Kestral was much better at this stuff.  

“May I see the wand?”

Jallarzi shrugged and pulled out the slim rod of black rock from the holster at her belt, handing it over respectfully.  The elder wizard examined the wand carefully, noting both the workmanship and composition.

“These rock-folk do exquisite work.”  Noted Master Wymeah.  “And your work exceptional.  For an apprentice.”  She looked up and handed the wand back to Jallarzi.

“Tell me, at what point were you going to apply for journeyhood?  You do realize that it is technically against all rules for an apprentice to use battle-magic unsupervised, much less journey-level battle-magics?

Jallarzi froze, though only for a moment, finally seeing where this was going.  She recovered quickly if not eloquently.  “I was intending to apply, I was.”  Explained the half-elf.  “But we’ve been really busy.  We only came back to town to restock and prepare for exploring the passages the svirfneblin have promised to show us.”

Master Wymeah raised a perfect eyebrow.  She had heard all the excuses before, though to be perfectly fair Jallarzi at least had a real reason.

“Very well; but let’s assign you a goal to work towards.  The journey test isn’t that difficult, merely a new spell or a magical device such as a wand or a protective cloak – donated to The Library.  You’ve already shown the ability so I doubt that this is a particularly onerous task.”

“Well…”  Started Jallarzi doubtfully, wondering how she was going to turn this down.

“Master Wymeah suppressed a sigh.  “You do realize that journey-hood brings several advantages, do you not?  Including access to some of the restricted libraries as well as escorted access through the mage-gates.”

The last caught Jallarzi’s attention.  “I am doing an important job for the Library.”  She pointed out.  “I would think I should have access to the restricted librarires if it would help the mission.”

Master Wymeah could infallibly tell when a student was trying to avoid the well thought out rules of the Library.  There was only one proper response to the attempts, so the master raised her eyebrow again and gave Jallarzi her best withering look.  “You are doing an important job.”  Acknowledged the master.  “However we are bending the rules already allowing an _apprentice_ to use battle-magics unsupervised.  I think it is allowable in this instance because to-date those same magics have not been performed on Imperial lands – technically that I am aware of.  I am further bending the rules by allowing you do put this test off for a period of time at your own request and despite your bvious capabilities.

Access to the restricted libraries is based upon not only magical ability, but also the presumed learned wisdom on when to use that same magic – or not.”  The wizard paused long enough to see Jallarzi gather herself for a renewed verbal offensive.  Just before Jallarzi could speak, Master Wymeah continued her lecture.  “That said, If you don’t have the time to test now, I hardly believe you have the time for serious research that these same libraries require.”

Jallarzi’s shoulders slumpled, recognizing the impending ‘no’.

Seeing that Jallarzi had recognized her authority, Wymeah continued.  “However, and I do this on my own authority, I believe I can offer supervised access to the libraries, provided you agree to the following.  First, you refrain from using battle-magic while in Imperial lands excepting _clear_ self-defense.  Second, you provide an explanation and plan of what you intend to research within those libraries.  Thirdly, you promise to complete your journey-test within the next year.”

Jallarzi wrinkled her nose.  She didn’t like the restrictions, though she didn’t have any particular objection to the conditions themselves.  “Very well.”  She agreed.

Master Wymeah gave a smart, satisfied nod.  “Good.  Now tell me what these rock-folk told you of these illithid.  They sound similar to something that happened elsewhere this summer…”

---------
*The bardic colleges of Keria would dispute that the Library’s non-magical education is the finest, but will readily admit that it is certainly the most expensive.


_edit: minor spelling errors._


----------



## rangerjohn

Seravin said:
			
		

> ---------
> *The bardic colleges of Keria would dispute that the Library’s non-magical education is the finest, but will readily admit that it is certainly the most expensive.



Sounds like sour grapes grapes.  Don't you know the sweeter the vine , the more expensive the vintage.      Or something like that.


----------



## Seravin

rangerjohn said:
			
		

> Sounds like sour grapes grapes.  Don't you know the sweeter the vine , the more expensive the vintage.      Or something like that.



Or in this case "If it costs a lot of money, it _must_ be worth it."


----------



## Seravin

*At Sword House Again*

The forges of the Sword House ran hot the first week Kellron arrived back in Corlean.  The paladin watched the priest-smith pray over his sword as they reworked the metal of the blade with both hammer and faith.  The forge room was hot and smoky and the air was acrid with the smells of oil, soot, and sweat.  Still, the feverant and loud prayers of the smiths cut through the oppressive heat and flickering light of the flames to raise the spirits of everyone in the room.

Any other blade would have been ruined by this treatment, but this was an enchanted fire-blade and the forge flames were required to keep the sword ignited whilst the priests re-worked the temper of the magics in the metal.  When they finished, Kellron’s fire-blade would ignite automatically when drawn by a member of the faith; which would have made the last two months easier.

Kellron’s mind drifted away with the rhythmic chanting, wondering how Kestral and Jallarzi were doing.  Both women had promised to look around and see if it might be possible to purchase a pair of enchanted boots that would increase his speed; similar to what Ashimar had been wearing, but more permanent.  Kellron expected that the pair of boots would have to be commissioned, but with their newfound wealth that wasn’t a problem.

Kellron allowed himself a self-satisfied grin, despite the revelation of the bandit attack against his new inn and the implication that it had been paid for, things were now going well.  No permanent harm had been done to the inn and Joe, his bouncer, was now fully recovered thanks to Colonel Megara’s faith.

_Speaking of which…_  Thought Kellron.

Nodding farewell to the priest-smiths, though they paid him no heed, Kellron left the forge for his appointment with Colonel Megara.  It was finally time that he settled other matters he had left too long unattended.

-----

“Enter.”  Called out Colonel Megara at the knock on the door.  When Kellron entered she smiled warmly and stood to greet him, though strictly speaking protocol didn’t require either.  She returned Kellron’s crisp salute with one of her own and motioned for him to sit.

“So is all going well, Captain Kellron?”  She asked

“Quite well.”  Affirmed Kellron.  “It’s been good to have some time off.”

“I’m sure.  Ashimar’s stories have been making the full rounds.  The older officer’s smile disappeared, and for a moment she looked her full forty-odd years.  “Your previous report interested General Vorun greatly.  He asked that I pass along his respects; unfortunately he is currently meeting with the Duke right now.  He wants you to know that we will provide any aid that we can though.”

Kellron smiled.  “Thank you very much.  The church has been more than helpful and I appreciate it.  However, I asked for this meeting not for my current mission, but for myself.”

“Oh?”  Colonel Megara looked interested; she hadn’t expected a personal request from the paladin. 

Kellron paused, collecting his thoughts making sure he really wanted to go forward.; he was about to ask for a lot of responsibility.  

Steeling himself, he stated his intent straight out.  “I’d like to re-man Broken Spire Keep as a base of operations and a forward defense point.  Any support the church could give would be appreciated.”

Colonel Megara pursed her lips in thought.  This was a surprise, but she was an organizer by nature and a good judge of character; her lineage all but demanded it.  “How many men?”

“As many as you can spare, but I think fifteen to twenty would be good a good start.  The keep is small and isolated and needs work to make it fully liveable.  Given the bandit attacks, it is my hope that this guard contingent will help protect the County of Haranshire while my friends and I explore the tunnels below.”

“I see.  So you’d like some guards and some skilled craftsmen I take it?”

“I think so; it would certainly improve the men’s morale to have a more liveable place.”

Megara nodded, agreeing with the paladin.  “You realize the problem with your request is that the church does not own Broken Spire.  The keep and lands belong to Count Parlfray.”

“I know, but I was hoping the church could help me persuade the good Count to sell or lease the lands.  The keep has been abandonded for decades now, so he’s obviously not using it.”

Colonel Megara mulled it over.  There were still questions to ask, but General Vorun, Scion of the Victorious Dragons and head of her order, had apparently already anticipated something like this.  “There are still details to work out, but General Vorun gave me presumptive leave to assign as many men as I deemed to necessary to you if you required it.”  The colonel smiled.  “He told me you would almost certainly ask for the, though I suspect he thought you would be taking them with you.”

Kellron shook his head in negation.  “I thought of it, but the surface is what is really vulnerable.  Haranshire could use more protection, especially if there are people striking out at our friends while we’re away.”

“Very well.  We’ll start with two squads; we can go over the rosters later.  What I can not do is make Count Parlfray give over the Keep to you, no matter the cause.

“Can you give me a letter of recommendation?”

“That I _can_ do.”  Affirmed the colonel as she stood.  The paladin quickly followed suit and took the colonel’s outstretched hand.  “Captain Kellron, would you care to adjourn with me and my aide and you can go over our rosters while I write up a quick letter to the Count.”

“I would like that very much, Colonel.”

With that the two officers left the colonel’s office.


----------



## Seravin

*Kestral in Corlean - Part 1*

For her part, the first seven days back were anything but a vacation for Kestral Thendry.  There were so many things to do and barely enough time to do it all.  Still, the young woman set about her tasks with a determination that effort that would have made Colonel Megara proud.

First on her list was to get someone to do those tasks she was unable to do herself.  In this case, convince someone to further enchant the magical hut in their possession so that it was usable more than a few times a seven-day.  In the back of her mind, Kestral was aware that the hut would not be forgiving if she and her companions were to ignore the alarm that signaled the magics were weakening and ready to collapse back to the hand-sized model.  Fortunately her companions were also well aware of the potential dangers and quickly agreed to assign part of their treasures to further enchant their portable domicile.  

Jallarzi’s knowledge proved instrumental in figuring out who to approach and what to ask for; and on their first morning back Kestral accompanied the half-elven apprentice to the Corlean Library.  Within a few minutes, with Jallarzi’s introduction, Kestral managed to arrange a short interview with one of the senior journey-mages.

----------

“Thank you for seeing me, Journey-mage Maius.  I understand this is short notice and that your time is valuable.”  As always, Kestral spoke with an open, friendly manner and a trustworthy sincerity that immediately drew people to her.  Kestral’s natural ability to speak to people in a manner they were most comfortable with was working extra duty.

Journey-mage Maius, a young man still not quite thirty summers, smiled at the young woman seated across from him in the small sitting room that the Library provided for business related interviews.  “No thanks are necessary, Kerress Thendry.  It just so happens that the Library does understand the value of commerce; wizards have to eat to you know.”  The last was said with a small chuckle. 

Kestral smiled at the small joke, letting the journey-mage know that he was putting her at ease.  “Still, I thank you.”

“Then you are most welcome.  As you said though, my time is valuable.  What can I do for you?  An ever-warm cloak perhaps, with winter coming on, or perhaps a few simple potions?”  Journey-mage Maius steeled himself for her answer.  The Library received the oddest requests sometimes, some of which were illegal.  He couldn’t imagine this obviously well-bred woman asking for anything like that, but you never knew.

Kestral shook her head.  “No sir.  I think Jallarzi could have provided for those things.  I’m afraid our need is for something a bit more complex and requires a wizard of greater ability, no offense to Jallarzi of course.”

“Of course.  I don’t know Jallarzi personally, but she is after all only an apprentice.  I am finding myself ever more curious of what you desire though.”

“Forgive my roundabout manner, Sir.  I am a little intimidated by what I am about to ask for, both by the cost and the fear that you may have some reason to say no.  Well you let me ask you some questions first?”

Intrigued, Journey-mage Maius raised a questioning eyebrow and nodded, wondering where this was going to go.

“Are you familiar with what my companions and I are currently doing?”

“I can’t say that I am.  I do know that Master Wymeah seemed eager to see Apprentice Jallarzi today; she even cleared her appointments this morning to see her.

Kestral cocked her head in thought.  “I suppose there is no harm in telling you.  I certainly haven’t been told that this is a secret, but you must understand that discretion is required.”

Maius leaned closer, the thought of learning a possible secret overriding any thought of not-learning that same secret.  “Of course.  Go on.”

Kestral knew she had him, though she suppressed any smile of victory.  Instead she took a small breath, as if to steel herself.  “Thank you.  Not long ago an apprentice wizard was kidnapped from a small village south of here, called Milbourne.  My friends and I took it upon ourselves to see what happened to her.”  She shook her head in sympathy.  “It took a few months, but we eventually discovered she had been kidnapped by bandits who had recently setup nearby.

We defeated the bandits with the help of an Imperial Scout and the son of the local Count.  Unfortunately we couldn’t save the apprentice.  She apparently had been moved elsewhere.  It seems that the bandits had been selling some of their captives to orcs deep below the ground.”

Kestral let that sink in, nodding to confirm Maius’ unasked question.  “Yes.  Orcs.  There was an entire tribe of them just below the Thornwood.  It was a fight, but we managed to assault the tribe and free one of their captives, a good dwarf.  Again we were too late to save the apprentice.”

Journey-mage Maius was completely caught up in Kestral’s tale.  He had heard the rumors of disappearing wizards of course; but then, wizards were always disappearing.  He was well aware of how fractious and independent he and his peers really were, despite the united front they gave everyone else.  “She died?”  He asked, a little sadly.

“No.  She had been moved on.  The caves under the Thornwood extend for many miles in many directions.  We found…evidence that Jelenneth had been moved deeper into the world.  We don’t know why, but we are dedicated to finding out.”

Kestral’s tone changed from that of a clinical description to a more impassioned tone.  “This is why we need your help.  Jallarzi is keeping the Library updated on what we find and she’s been a great help; but the task we need performed requires a high degree of skill and I am told that is you.”

“But, I don’t even know what you want.”  Exclaimed Journey-mage Maius.  He found himself wanting to help, but he didn’t know how.

“Oh.”  Kestral brought her hand to her mouth.  “How foolish of me.  I’m sorry.  We have a magical device that needs further enchantments and I have some further requests that would greatly aid our cause.”  Kestral reached into her backpack now laying next to her chair on the floor.  She carefully pulled out the enchanted hut and laid it upon the table that was between the both of them.

“We recovered this from the bandits.  It creates a small cottage approximately three times per seven-day, and then for less than half a day.  It’s been very useful though and my friends and I thought it would be best to see if we can have it enchanted so that we can use it whenever we want.”

The wizard stood up and walked around the table to examine the ramshackled little model in more detail.  Looking at Kestral for permission first, he gently picked up the magical item and looked it over, peering into the windows and pecking at the walls and roof.

“Amazing.  It’s completely ugly.  Does it look like this when fully realized?”  Maius wasn’t really interested in the form, he was speaking to cover himself while he thought.

“No.  It’s quite cozy actually.”

“I see.  Hmm.  I will have to examine it before I can even tell you if it is really possible to modify the current enchantments.  I believe it is, but I don’t know for sure.”

“But you will look into this?”

“Oh yes.  You do realize this will be expensive though?  There’s the examinations, some of which use expensive material components, and I may have to research a new spell or two.  I really won’t know before mid-day tomorrow, assuming you wish me to continue.”

“How much?”  Asked Kestral.  “I really think a permanently available shelter to retreat to will aid us in our mission, so we’ll pay what we have to, if we can.”

The wizard gave Kestral an appraising look as he set the model hut back onto the table; he liked the young woman and if this was truly a mission for the Library, then some sort of discount was in order.  “I’ll have a better idea tomorrow.  Just to look at the task and research to see if I can really do it will cost 450 gold lions.  I’ll be honest though, modifying the enchantments could cost a king’s ransom.  If I had to do this from scratch, I’d say about fifty thousand lions, give or take.  Most of the work has been done though, so maybe half that.  If you decide and are able to go ahead with this, then I’ll roll the detection fees into the enchantment costs.”

Kestral wrung her hands, like the cost worried her.  Inwardly she was thinking that Jallarzi had accurately predicted the costs, the half-elf would be pleased.  “I suppose.  Shall I meet you here tomorrow then and you can let me know?”

“Yes, say just before dinner?  That will give me plenty of time to examine the device and research what I think I’ll need.”  Maius stopped then.  “I almost forgot though.  You mentioned that you had some personal requests?”

Kestral smiled brightly and stood up to be on a more equal footing with Maius, though she was still a good ten inches shorter then him.  “Yes.  Thank you for remembering.  I mentioned that we were working with the Imperial Scout?   I have been studying a few things from him which have come in useful.  I can track passably well and move and hide within the forest with some skill.”  Here Kestral looked at the floor as if embarrassed.  “But I’m no Imperial Scout.  Kupier had mentioned that the Empire does provide enchanted elven cloaks and boots though that aid in hiding.  I was hoping the Library could sell me both.  The scout we were working with has other things to do now and I’d like to cover for my lack.”

“Oh.  I see.”  Maius shook his head.  “I’m afraid I cannot help you.  The Library does not craft those items.  I have heard of them though, and I do believe that there is some elven village from up north that provides them for the local Imperial Scouts.  If for some reason you don’t want to deal with the elves, the Library might be able to come up with something, but I suspect it would be more expensive.”

“Do you know which village I would have to go to?”

Maius smiled.  “I believe you can find the elves locally.  There are a few traders in town as well as few that choose to live here.  Before you leave I can ask around and see if anyone has a name for me to give.  Is there anything else?”

“Just one other thing.  A small thing I hope.”  Kestral wasn’t sure if it was small or not, she hadn’t even discussed this with Jallarzi.  “Some of bandits were cultists of Tresh and were using their spells to identify and capture wizards.  I’ve gathered from Jallarzi that detecting magic is a relatively trivial spell for a mage…”

“That is true…’

“Well, we’ve been fortunate in our travels and have recovered many magical items.  If I am to successfully sneak up on whoever is really behind these kidnappings, I think it would be best if any magical auras on my items were suppressed.  Is that a possible thing to do?”

Maius pursed his lips in thought, as his eyes stared out into space.  “There’s a spell of moderate difficulty that suppresses all auras, but it’s devilishly expensive.”

“That sounds nice, but it sounds like all our gold will go to the hut.  Is there anything that would just suppress the magic?  Make it undetectable?”

“Just how many magical items do you have?” Maius looked at Kestral.  “May I?”  

Kestral sighed.  “You may.”

A quick magical pass and two arcane words later and Maius found himself stepping back and blinking.  “Avia’s Eyes!  What is that on your hand?”

“A gift from the Water King.”  Explained Kestral.  “I am geased to find his son somewhere.”

“…”  Maius didn’t know what to say.

“That is why I want to find something to cloak the magic I wear.  If anyone is even casually looking for a spell, I’m good and caught and I’ll be useless as a scout.  Can you help me?”

Maius’ heart went out to the woman.  She was undoubtedly correct and she was on a mission for the Libray (though he reminded himself to check with Master Wymeah).  “Well, if it’s just a simple cloak against a Detect Magic, there may be something I can do.  An amulet perhaps.  That would be best, and I do know a spell that masks magical auras for a single object…”   

Maius shook his head.  “Let me see what I can do.”  He smiled.  “I’m almost afraid to ask is there anything else?”

“No.  I hope that wasn’t too much.”

“Good.  Let’s get that name for you and then I’ll see you with a cost on the hut and the amulet tomorrow evening.”

“Thank you very much Journey-mage Maius.  You’ve been most helpful.”


----------



## Seravin

*Kestral in Corlean Part 2*

_There are many elves within the Empire of Shtara, but not all those elves are _of_ the Shtaran Empire.  The average citizen of Shtara would classify the elven peoples into four distinct groups.

First there are those elves who are members of the Empire.  Their homes, families, and loyalties are tied to the fortunes and fate of the Empire itself.  Those elves who have decided to live within the cities (for whatever reason) generally keep to their own neighborhoods (when you live for centuries you can afford to take the long view and buy up property when it becomes available), but are otherwise well integrated with the other Imperial citizenry.

The next most prominent group of elves known to most Shtaran folk are those of the Imperial Shaylars, a sea-going empire comprised entirely of elves.  Acknowledged by all as the most knowledgeable sailors who currently sail the oceans.  Arrogant, but rightly proud, the elves of the Shaylars have their own empire and go where they will, keeping a strangely easy peace with the Shtaran Empire.

Next to be listed are the elves of the Deep Forests, such as those who live within the Silver Forest.  Their lands are the small forested tracts that dot the Empire; within the Empire but not a part of it.  By ancient agreements no Imperial hands touch these woods, for they are far deeper then their borders suggest and filled with thousands of sleeping defenders.

Finally, there are the all the other elves; comprising those elves who live on the outskirts of the Empire, but not a part of the Deep Forests themselves.  These elves are content to live by themselves within their homelands and fiercely guard both their independence and their privacy.  Some of these communities though have been known to trade with the Shtaran Empire, such as the villages of the Galasuthalion clan who live within the forest just east of the north end of the High Pass.  The Galasuthalion’s have benefited from the presence of Imperial soldiers who protect many nearby Imperial settlements.  To repay their perceived (but unasked for) debt, the Galasuthalion elves provide superior bows and forestry items to the Empire._

Kestral found her quarry in a small park to the north and west of the Square, closer to the shadow of the Duke’s Palace then the Square itself, making it a relatively affluent neighborhood.  Kestral had met elves in passing before, so she did not find this one strange.  He was older then her, or rather he looked older than her, a sure sign of his age.  He was about her height, perhaps only an inch or two taller, and his lined face was framed with a close crop of dark black hair.  His eyes were violet in color.

The elf was sitting at a small, sheltered table at the outskirts of the park, sipping something from a wooden goblet while perusing a small stack of papers.  Almost supernaturally he looked up while Kestral was looking him over, seemingly aware of her scrutiny.

Spotted, Kestral smiled at the elf, squared her shoulders and walked up to him.  Her uncle’s language and culture lessons at the forefront of her mind, Kestral stopped some four paces from the elderly elf and bowed very low.  “A fair day to you elder.”  She greeted in what she hoped was her best elvish.  She had practiced that statement all the way here.

“A fair day to you, young one.”  Greeted the elf in a friendly enough manner, though her accent sounded like she had been taught by a Shaylaran sailor.  “Please sit down and join me and tell me why you have come to my place of business.”  The elf continued on in elven, curious if the human woman only knew the single phrase.

Kestral bowed again and sat down in the proffered chair.  “Thank you elder.  I appreciate your willingness to speak with me.”  Mindful of her manners, the young woman introduced herself.  “My name is Kestral Thendry, born in Relk, but now mostly of the Road.  I am seeking to purchase items from the Galasuthalion clan.”

The elf bowed his head slightly, acknowledging her introduction.  “You may call me Paritholian, and I am one of the Outforest of the Galasuthalion.”  He looked her over appraisingly.  “You are slight enough that I do not think you are here to buy one of my clan’s bows.”  He smiled as he spoke, for while he didn’t intend it, the comment would have been an insult amongst his people.

Kestral smiled and shook her head; the whisper-bows were legendary both in their quality and the strength of arm it would take to draw one.  Kellron could do it, but she never would.  “You are correct Paritholian, I wish to purchase a forest-cloak and a pair of forest-boots that your clan makes.”

Paritholian had almost been ready to take a drink from his goblet when Kestral spoke.  He froze though and set his goblet down, the drink untaken.  “Then I am afraid you have come here in vain, young Kestral.  We do not sell those items to just anyone.   We only sell them to your Empire for we cannot abide the debt we have incurred; and even then we only sell to those worthy enough to wear them.”

Kestral pursed her lips and prepared her verbal assault.  Logic was on her side.  “Elder Paritholian, I believe I am on a worthy cause and the Galasuthalion’s fabled cloak and boots could be the difference between success and failure…”

Paritholian raised his hand to forestall her.  “Young Kestral, I cannot help you, by tradition and decree, we only sell to those Imperial Scouts that are vouchsafed by the Empire and who we deem worthy.”

Kestral sat back.  “I see.  Thank you elder Paritholian.  Is it possible that you might deem me worthy at least?”

“It is possible young Kestral.  You had the courtesy to approach me politely and in my native tongue, though your accent is not mine.  My heart tells me that you are trustworthy and there is an air about you that reminds me of my daughter when she was less headstrong.  But as I said before, that alone is not enough.”

Kestral nodded and smiled at the elf and stood.  “Then I thank you for your time elder Paritholian.  I hope that we will be able to speak again.”

Paritholian inclined his head.  “I would not shy away from the opportunity young Kestral.  May the winds favor your aim.”

“And yours.”  Kestral bowed again and walked away.  Now she just had to figure out how to become an Imperial Scout.  How hard could it be?


----------



## Seravin

*Kestral in Corlean Part 3*

_The Imperial Heralds originally started out as the Emperor’s messengers, carrying his voice and his will to the people of the Empire.  Over time, as their collective worthiness was proved, their role and duties expanded with the growing needs of the Empire.  In the thirty-second year of the reign of the Emperor Jaz’aldrin, the Imperial Heralds are now responsible for overseeing six major tasks.

First and foremost they are still the Voice of the Emperor, responsible for making sure that the ruler’s edicts are brought to every corner of the Empire; a staggering number of scribes, couriers, and orators are engaged in just this task alone.

Just as importantly, the Imperial Heralds now carry the Will of the Emperor to those of foreign nations.  An Imperial Herald bearing the crest of the Emperor not only speaks with the voice of the Emperor, but may make binding decisions in the name of the Emperor.  Unsurprisingly the Emperor’s crest is given to only a few Heralds, trusted or not.

The Imperial Heralds are also the Memory of the Empire.  All Heralds, regardless of their eventual tasks, will serve a term as pages, runners, and announcers at all noble-attended events, and at many merchant-house events also (amongst the merchant-houses it is a mark of prestige and favor to have a Herald attend).  The Herald attends as the Empire’s representative and is frequently called upon by the host to answer basic questions concerning their guests (I believe she is the daughter of the Countess Dyvers, milord.  I do not believe she is wedded, though current rumors suggest she has a beau.”).  Some of these Imperial Heralds have found themselves becoming impromptu bodyguards at such events and to date have performed excellently.

In an effort to make sure that every citizen was literate, could perform basic sums, and the like, a few Imperial Heralds were assigned to be teachers in the more remote communities until more appropriate teachers could be found.  Now those Heralds who have the desire to teach can apply to be stationed at any one of the several villages which voluntarily pay more taxes to support an Imperial trained instructor.  These Heralds also frequently find themselves advising the local mayor on matters of law.  It’s no surprise that these villages tend to do better despite the increased taxes.

With the first four duties it is unremarkable that many Imperial Heralds often come across information that would be useful to the Empire of Shtara.  Those Heralds that show an aptitude for such find that they are assigned tasks that allow them to be the Emperor’s Eyes more often then they are his Voice.  These Heralds ferret out rumors of treason, plots of assassination, and even conspiracies to fix prices; all in an effort to keep the Empire stable.

Most recently assigned are those Heralds who have found that they no longer wish or are able to travel and have no desire or inclination to teach; but their desire to serve is still just as strong as before.  Their minds sharp and their knowledge broad, more and more Imperial Heralds now settle in the cities, assigned as adjuncts to the City Watch.  While the Watch proper is tasked with preventing crimes and catching those perpetrators they can, the Watch-Heralds busy themselves with the unsolved crimes.  Sadly, mortality in these positions is high, as there are many people who do not take kindly to Imperial meddling._


Watch-Herald Ladea stopped shuffling the papers in front of her, leaned back in her creaking wooden chair, closed her bright black eyes, and allowed herself a long sigh.  She didn’t hate the paperwork, but it could be tedious.  When she had first arrived two years ago, she had taken it upon herself to review the daily reports of the watch shifts.  Most often nothing would come of it; but occasionally, like last month, a gem of knowledge would show itself and Watch-Herald Ladea would find herself on the streets with a squad in tow.

A knock on the door caused the dark-haired Watch-Herald to crack open an eye and glare at the door balefully.  With a quirk of the lips she straightened herself up in her chair and called out.  “Enter.”  Unconsciously her hands straightened the dark blue cuffs of her uniform while she waited for the door to open.

It was Watchman Rovan, assigned who was assigned as her aide and adjunct.  The brown haired and brown eyed young man stuck his head through the opening, as if using the door as a shield for the rest of his body.  “There’s a young woman to see you, Watch-Herald.”

“Who is it?”

“She called herself Kestral Thendry.  I think she’s been here before.”

Ladea’s mouth quirked with amusement again.  “She has Rovan; about two month ago.  She’s the one who brought us information on the  bandits in the Thornwood south of here.  I was wondering if we would see her again.”  Rovan nodded and Ladea continued on.  “Try and remember her next time.  I expect we’ll be seeing her again.  Show her in.”*

Ladea saw Rovan take the gentle order to heart and she set about turning her papers facedown so as to be unreadable to her approaching guest.  Less than a minute later Kestral Thendry was shown into her office.  Pleasantries were exchanged and Kestral was invited to sit.

“So, what brings you back to my office, Kerress Thendry?”

Kestral smiled as she met the Watch-Herald’s eyes, she had already saw that the papers were overturned when she walked into the office and thus not worth looking at.  “I wanted to update you on what we discovered since I was last here.”

“I am all ears.”

Kestral reported the events of the last two months as briefly and succinctly as possible, from the fight with the orcs in the caves below, the overland journey to Khundrukar with the orphaned orc women and children, to a (very) brief description of the meeting with the svirfneblin and the words Carmararen imparted.

“And that’s what we know so far.  After we’ve rested up and Jallarzi’s re-armed herself at the Library we plan on going back and exploring the tunnels to see if we can find this City of the Glass Pool.”

Ladea had absorbed it all.  The Heralds taught themselves the tricks of retaining and recalling information.  Later she would write down Kestral’s story, but for now she could devote her attention to the young woman.  “Do you trust this Carmararen?”

Kestral nodded vigorously.  “I do.  Whatever these diregund are, she and her entire clan hate with a passion.  Just the name makes them hiss like cats.  She’s cautious though and doesn’t really trust us, so she’s made these tests to see how we perform.  So far so good.”

Ladea sat back in her chair.  “Well, I thank you for the update.  This certainly explains some of the information that funneled in from Blasingdale last month with the orcs and all.  The Herald there provided a very detailed report on the current strength of the orcs thanks to the efforts of some mercenaries as he described them.  I believe that must have been you and your friends?”

“Probably.  We told the Herald there everything we knew at the time before we went in with the women and after we came out.”

“I doubt the baron will thank you over the new additions to the orcs, but I suspect it was the right thing to do.  I can’t imagine the problems there would be in trying to take them through Corlean and over the High Pass.  Thank you for saving me the problem.”

Ladea paused in thought for a moment, trying to find the best phrase for what she wanted to ask.  “So what now?”

Kestral looked down for a moment.  “Well…I did have a favor to ask.”  She started.

Ladea snorted but didn’t say anything else.

Kestral smiled at Ladea’s amusement; it seemed as if she had found a kindred spirit.  “I was hoping I could get a recommendation from you to get me membership into the Imperial Scouts.”

The room became very silent.  Kestral found that she could hear the sound of footsteps coming closer from down the hall.  The steps were almost up to the door before Ladea finally found her voice.

“The Imperial Scouts?

“Yes ma’am.”

“The Imperial Scouts that are the first into any skirmish?  The Scouts that live for days at a time in the wild and can shoot a gnat off of an orc’s hide?  Those Imperial Scouts?”

Kestral nodded brightly.  “Yes ma’am.  It would help me quite a bit.”

“Kestral, it may surprise you that Colonel Megara spoke very highly of you the last time your name came up.  Her assessment that you are a bright young woman with not much to do pretty much matched my own opinion.  That said, could you please explain why being an Imperial Scout would be helpful?  Beyond the obvious of course.”

Slowly, Kestral found herself explaining in detail her desire for a set of elven-made forest-cloak and boots, and the subsequent discovery that the Galasuthalion clan would only sell them to ‘worthy’ Imperial Scouts.

Somewhere during the story Watch-Herald Ladea had picked up her pen and was idling tapping it against the desk.  Amusement warred with fascination across her face.  Kestral’s honest admittance to manipulating the rules given to her like a game would have been galling in anyone less likeable.  In Kestral’s case it was a trait to be admired.  Ladea almost found herself frightened, except she liked Kestral too.

“I…see.  I suppose it’s better then you finding a way to lighten someone’s purse.’

Kestral froze and her faced flushed a nearly perfect shade of crimson.  “I…”

Ladea raised her hand to forestall the younger woman.  “A prank.  I understand, and believe it or not, Colonel Megara understands.  Call it a sign that I understand you or call it a warning; or both if you prefer.”  She pondered a moment and then reached for a blank sheet of paper (turning it over just to be sure).  “I’m going to write you that recommendation on the condition that you promise to make regular reports to me.  I want you to visit me by the first morning following your arrival in Corlean.

Kestral nodded; it was a surprisingly simple task and something she intended to do in the first place.

Ladea started writing.  “I’m doing this because you started reporting to me of your own will without being asked, and I appreciate that.  Further, I trust you and people I trust seem to trust you.  I am well aware that you’re capable of abusing that trust, so do me a favor and don’t.  This is going to say that you’ve been brevetted by me as a probationary Herald-in-Training in order to continue investigation into various crimes against the Empire.  I’m asking an acquaintance of mine in the Scouts to admit you, and reassign you to duty back to me.  Do I remember aright that you know Kupier in Milbourne?  Good.  Will he vouch for you?”

“I think so.”

I think I can get my friend to admit you based on my request and Kupier’s recommendation.  “We’ll be bending the rules quite a bit, but this should be enough to get you a temporary rank.  Make no mistake though, if you go through with this, you will be taking an oath to the service of the Emperor.  If you can’t do this in good conscious then don’t do it at all.  If Kupier won't recommend you as competent or fit for duty, Stannin won't have any problems in booting you out and returning your cloak and boots to the elves.”

Kestral met Watch-Herald Ladea’s eyes again, amusement gone.  “I understand.”  She said with all seriousness.  “Thank you.”

_By the end of her first full day in Corlean, Kestral swore her oath to the Emperor and was admitted to the ranks of the Imperial Scouts.  She was immediately re-assigned to assisting Watch-Herald Ladea of Corlean, but instructed to report everything she learned of the creatures and terrain below Milbourne to her commander, Scout-Captain Stannin.

The next morning, Kestral made arrangements to purchase and pick up her desired Galasuthalion-made cloak and boots.

The next six days would prove just as busy._

---
* This wasn’t mentioned in the account of their previous trip to Corlean.  It was minor and didn’t make it to my notes at the time; but Kestral’s player wanted to keep somebody in the government informed of the bandits and took the time to file a report as it were.


----------



## Seravin

Three updates in three days.  Not bad.  The next one isn't completely finished, but the update after that is.  Hopefully I'll post them both later this weekend.

The extended focus on Kestral is for several reasons.  First, because this was the first chance to show her strengths in the game (with an 8 strength, she wasn't in melee very often).  Second, because the character actually went out and did this stuff during the break, and third it allows me to showcase some of the people and groups - some of who become important later on.


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## rangerjohn

The only thing is as a diplomat, she seems more of a bard than a rogue.  But I guess thats a minor nit pick.


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## Seravin

rangerjohn said:
			
		

> The only thing is as a diplomat, she seems more of a bard than a rogue.  But I guess thats a minor nit pick.




To be fair, the character concept started out as that of a skill monger - 13 skill points per level is a lot of skill points!  This was also under 3.0 rules at the time so she had twice (nearly three times) as many skill points as the group's bard at the time.

The player then picked up a goal of learning all the languages (with 13 points, who cares if it was cross class?).  Diplomacy, bluff, gather-info, and sense motive became important because no one else was really doing it, and with an 8 strength combat was never going to be her strength.

In reality, Kestral was played more as an Super-Expert then a Bard; she doesn't have the knowledge skills to 'know' things instead she has to 'check around and find out'.

It wasn't in too many levels that Kestral was pretty given much the same respect for her skills as the other players got for their specialties.  In a city adventure, Kestral is dangerous - and she doesn't have to sing a single song for her supper.


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## rangerjohn

Well I guess I'm more libral with how I define 'bard'.  I guess I follow the 3.5 philisophy on this point.  One of the few where I do!  With Oratory, speeches can be your 'performance.'  Now admittedly, the magic would normally get in the way, but she is dealing with elemental nobility, so it wouldn't much of a stretch.   

I guess its just one of the cases where a concept can be played a number of ways.  That is something the D&D 3.0+ got right at any rate.  As I said before it was a 'minor' nit pick.


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## Seravin

Fair enough; I guess the titles don't matter - only what the charcter does.  And Kestral would most likely be the first to claim that she's not a thief.    

Events will soon cause her to start diversifying her skills a bit more though.  
She can already track, her sneak attack bonus is now just starting to justify her getting into melee, and she just purchased a set of 3.0 Elven Cloak and Boots.


----------



## Seravin

*New Faces in Corlean*

Beth is a little girl, perhaps seven or eight years old.  She has straight, long blonde hair and bright, sapphire blue eyes that miss little.  When seen, this little girl is normally dressed in a faded brown shirt and trousers; both of which are a little large for her but she somehow makes do.  Smudges of dirt can usually be found on her face and hands.

Beth alternates between quiet and attentive to animated and precocious.  When quiet Beth can be nearly invisible, blending into the background while quietly listening to what is going on around her.  As a quiet child, Beth has found that she is safely ignored – unnoticed even.

Beth will tell anyone who asks that Corlean is her home, but she is evasive about her family and where she lives.  Given her manner of dress and the odd places that she turns up, the people who talk to Beth assume that she is some sort of orphan.  Most give the girl a concerned look as she walks away but the girl’s manner is such that they do not even think of anything bad happening to her.

---

At first glance there is nothing remarkable about Semina.  She is a twenty-five year old woman with brown hair and eyes; she is of average height and perhaps a little over average weight indicating that she at least eats well.  At second glance the only memorable attribute of Semina is that she tends to talk with her hands and she has a nervous habit of looking around at everything and everyone; almost like she’s continuously on watch.

Newly arrived to Corlean from places south, Semina is looking for _work_.  She’s been known to fill in at taverns as serving girl, but that’s not the kind of job she’s looking for.  Indeed, the tavern jobs are only a stepping stone, and allows Semina to find the people who are looking for a person with certain skills; skills with locks and such like.

Despite her nervous gestures and continuous glancing around the room, Semina does have a manner that suggests her fingers are used to small tools and that she knows how and when to be quiet.  It’s only a matter of time before Semina finds a job worthy of her skills.

---

Aeva is an older woman, perhaps in her fourth decade or so.  Few people would ask her to confirm her age though, for the wiry woman looks tough despite her ready laughter.  Still, her hair is as equally black as it is gray and the weathered lines in her thin face speak of  years of experience with both life and the weather.

No one knew where the black-eyed Aeva comes from, just that she is new in Corlean from somewhere up north and looking to earn a bit of coin.  A few folk whisper that she must be an ex-soldier given the way she walks (nearly swaggers) with a hand that is always close to her belt dagger.  Few people think about it though for ex-soldiers are a silver-a-dozen in Corlean.

Ex-soldiers who are looking for a bit of easy work, who can keep quiet, and don’t necessarily care about all the Imperial laws are less easy to find; it just so happens that Aeva easily fits that description.  Aeva wasn’t looking for long before she was approached by certain people looking for her to do a certain job.  Surprisingly, Aeva passed on it.

---

Beth, Semina, and Aeva all have many things in common; from their ability to blend into the background to their capacity for being able to listen to those around them.  Not surprising really, for Beth, Semina, and Aeva are all guises of Kestral Thendry.

After six days of traveling the streets, finding temporary work at a likely-looking tavern, and spending hard-won gold to buy drinks and information, Kestral found what she was looking for.  She brought the information to Kellron when next she spoke to him.

“It was a ‘thieves guild’ that attacked your inn; a collection of people in the ‘business’ hired the bandits to make the raid.  The current story is that we have a lot of money and they figured it was hidden at the inn.”  Kestral paused a moment letting it sink in.  “They were looking for another group of thugs to attack the inn.  I told them that the current rumor was that you had hidden the gold elsewhere.”

Kellron nodded, tight-lipped.  He wasn’t sure what could be done right now, if anything; but he knew his friends would help.


----------



## Seravin

*Stalking Corlean*

Panther met up with his friends in Thurmaster, though neither chance or luck had anything to do with the meeting.  News traveled fast throughout the county of Haranshire following the bandit attack on Kellron’s Inn.  Upon hearing of it, Panther had quickly dropped what he was doing and hurried to Thurmaster to lend what aid he could.

From there the half-elf joined up with his friends when they arrived and the five went onto Corlean together, confident that Tauster would protect the inn for Kellron.  Ironically the five broke into their separate ways immediately upon arriving in the City of Silver.  All agreed to stay in contact but Ashimar, Jallarzi, Kellron, and Kestral felt the need for some time away from the others.  Panther only smiled, shrugged his shoulders philosophically, and set about the city on his own.

It would be a conceit to say Panther stalked the streets of Corlean; albeit a conceit that Panther would ascribe to with a laugh and a knowing wink.  It would be more truthful to say that the half-elven bard played with a travern or two during the first seven-day within Corlean and wandered the streets in his free time.  Not that Panther allowed himself much free time.  The muse was upon him and during that brief period he gave some of his most memorable performances.*

Those performances stopped when Panther found himself compared to the ‘late’ Imych Thassel.

It was late on the sixth day at the tavern called the Black Mug.  Panther rather favored the boisterous crowd that gathered within the main room.  The men and women who frequented the tavern were generally plain-speaking laborers who loaded and unloaded the wagons going through the High Pass.  These people saw much but spoke little to outsiders, but Panther had quickly become a regular.  Even if he hadn’t though his keen hearing allowed him to pick up far more conversations than the local’s suspected.

“Play it again!”  Called out Burok, who wasn’t shy about what he liked.  The elderly laborer was Panther’s measure of the room’s mood; if he could please Burok then he knew the room would pick up on the man’s cheer.  Panther nodded at Burok and picked up the tune again.

Some minutes later Panther raised his hands at the rooms thunderous applause and left the little makeshift stage to find a drink and a bit of rest before he started all over again.  Seeing that Burok had an empty space next to him, Panther went to sit by his favorite audience member.

“You play pretty.”  Noted the elderly human.  “I couldn’t carry a tune if I had a cart and a team to pull it with.”  He snorted.  “It must be that fey blood in you.”

Panther had heard the comment before.  Maybe it was true, maybe not; either way the bard didn’t care.  “Could be.”  He admitted to Burok.  

The laborer nodded and took a swig.  “I think you play better then that fancy Thassel fellow did.”

That perked Panther’s ears up.  “Really?  Did he play here?”

“Naw.  Not here.  I was down at The Gaming House and saw him there about a week afore he died.”  The graying man signaled a passing waitress for another drink and so he didn’t see the look on Panther’s face.

“Imych Thassel?  Imych Thassel is dead?”  The shock in Panther’s voice was self-evident.

“Oh.  Didn’t you know?”

Panther shook his head mutely; for the moment he had no words.  Imych Thassel was the most recent winner of the Kerian Bardic contest.  He had won the prized harp and the bards had carried his name throughout all the lands.  And now the bard was dead.

“He died about ten days ago, maybe fifteen.”  Burok’s wrinkled face twisted a bit in though then he shrugged.  “Anyway, he’s dead.  They found him in the middle of the street not far from here, not a mark on him.”  Burok paused then chuckled.

“What?”  Asked Panther.

“Oh.  That bard fellow played The House like he played his harp.”

“How so?”

“The night I saw him play?  Well I overheard him talking with the manager.  Not that everyone nearby couldn’t hear.  That Imych fellow owed The Gaming House a lot of money and apparently a few other places.  Now none of them can collect.  That can’t even sell that fancy harp of his ‘cause no one can find it.”  Burok chuckled again.  “He left the world happy and in debt.  Can’t say I’d trade places with him, but I know of worse ways to go.”

_Panther didn’t play again that night; instead he took his leave with an apology and spent the rest of the evening trying to find out what he could about the mysterious death of Imych Thassel and his missing harp._

---
_*I had him roll daily perform checks – it was something like 19, 20, 16, 20, etc…_


----------



## Seravin

*Games of Chance*

_Gerrold Holtson lived some one hundred fifty years ago, serving briefly as a soldier in the Shtaran army, while at the same time teaching his fellow soliders that a game of cards is more about skill than luck.  Gerrold’s last tour of duty was in Corlean and when that tour ended Gerrold continued his teachings in an establishment that he opened up and named quite simply ‘The Gaming House’.   Since that time Gerrold’s descedents have managed the family business, growing it a little each year.  

Now days, The Gaming House is the best known gambling establishement in Corlean.  The tables are scrupulously fair and the owner knows that his customers are the soliders and guardsmen of the city and caters to their needs while at the same time making sure that the officers look kindly upon his establishment.

The current owner of The Gaming House is Quereth Holtson.  A middle-aged man in his early forties, Ker Holtson is an affable if hard man.  He has gained a reputation for hard but fair dealings.  Quereth owns many other establishments other than The Gaming House, including three warehouses and some specialty shops that cater to the needs of soldiers. 

Grandal Deverex aids Quereth as the manager of The Gaming House and as sort of an aide de camp for the other businesses.  Grandal and Quereth grew up together, though while Quereth grew up in relative luxury, Grandal was a street-orphan, abandoned by his elven father when his mother died in childbirth.  Somehow the two men met while in their teens and they became fast friends.  The word on the street in Corlean is that Grandal’s loyalty is absolute and has withstood several tests over the years.

Naturally, with a setup like that, a cynical person would assume that the owner was hiding something.

---

It took only one day for Kestral and Panther working together to discover that The Gaming House might have ties to those who work the shadows.  The discovery wasn’t surprising to either for both understood human nature.  Neither was inclined to pass judgement though, instead they decided to buy Imych’s missing harp.  While they had no evidence, their suspicions immediately fell upon the manager who had lost both money and some small amount of reputation due to Imych’s actions prior to his death._

Kestral and Panther were dressed in their best, which was surprisingly good.  Neither looked much like they normally did however; Kestal having gained some four inches, twenty pounds, and changed her blonde hair to a curly brown, while Panther dressed down, pulling his wild maine into a neat pony tail and wore loose fitting, non-descript clothes.  Kestral played the lady and Panther her bodyguard.  Together they stalked The Gaming House.  It didn’t take them long to find their quarry.  Kestral walked smoothly over to him.

“Ker Deverex?”  

Grandal looked over the well-dressed woman and tried to determine what she wanted.  At forty-two he knew he looked to be in his mid-twenties. His exotic features were faintly elven though his black hair and eyes came from his mother.  Those who knew of him knew that Grandal was a powerful and wealthy man.  Despite all this Grandal quietly decided that the woman wasn’t here because she was attracted to him.  He decided to play her game and smiled in greeting.  “Why yes, Kerress…?”

She smiled and curtsied.  “Pyra Rains, Ker Deverex.”

“Grandal.  Please.”  Grandal eyed the man standing a few feet away though obviously with the woman.  He looked like a bodyguard of some sort, and surprisingly, was a half-elf like himself.  Grandal wondered if that was on purpose.  He dismissed the guard for the moment, though he kept an eye on him.  He turned his full attention back to the woman.  “Please, sit with me and let me get you a drink.”  

Grandal indicated a nearby table that was unoccupied for the moment.  He signaled a waitress who nodded and hurried towards the bar.  Within moments Grandal and his guest were drinking a surprisingly sweet wine. 

Grandal let the woman taste the wine and appreciate it, then being a busy man, went immediately to business.  “So Kerress Rains, why did you come seeking me?”

Kestral forged ahead.  “I assume you heard that the bard Imych Thassel passed away recently?”

Grandal didn’t miss a beat.  “Yes I did.  It was unfortunate; he was quite talented you know.”  He looked away in embarrassment.  “And of course you probably heard that he passed away owing The Gaming House a bit of money.”  He shook his head.  “Sad, really.”

“Hmmm.  Perhaps you also heard that his harp went missing too?”

Grandal was looking her in the eyes when he answered.  “Why no.  I can’t say that I did hear that.”

“It’s true.  The same people who told me that also told me that you might know someone who could sell that harp.”

“Really?  I can’t imagine who that would be.”

Kestral shrugged.  “I hear things and I thought if it was true you might be interested in selling it and recouping some of the losses."

Grandal smiled.  “That’s quite a good idea actually.  Alas, I don’t have the harp.  I’m afraid you were misinformed.”

“I see. Well, if you find out about the harp the people I represent would be quite happy to purchase it and pay any reasonable finder’s fee.”

“I’ll be sure to think of you.  How would I get a hold of you?”

“I’ll be around.  I’m afraid I don’t have permanent quarters as of yet, however you could leave a message for me at the little bookshop just up the street.”  Kestral stood up

Grandal quickly stood also.  “I’ll do that.”  Suddenly he looked around as if something disturbed him.  Seeing nothing he bid the woman farewell and watched her and her bodyguard walk away with suspicion.  

---
“So, what did you do to him?”  Asked Kestral.

“I tried to suggest to him that there was nothing suspicious about us and to not check up on you.”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

Panther grinned.  “I’ve learned a new trick.  There are sounds you can’t hear but you can feel.  I learned how to do that a few months ago.”

Kestral gave a low whistle.  “Think it worked?”

“No.  I don’t think so.  He looked around too much when you stood up.”  Panther changed tact.  “So do you think he’s telling the truth?”

“Not really, but I can't prove it.  We need to come up with something else  Maybe Ashimar can help.”


----------



## Seravin

I changed the last line of the last post a bit, so you might want to read that first.

------
*Investigations*

“You want me to do what?”  Asked an incredulous Kellron.

Kestral ignored her friend’s tone.  She just had to explain what and why she and Panther wanted and Kellron would agree; everyone agreed with her eventually.  
“We need to question Imych Thassel about his death.  We’re certain he was murdered but we can’t prove it without some help.  Ashimar said that a powerful priest could contact Imych’s spirit and get answers from him.”  Kesetral smiled at the paladin sweetly.  “Ashimar said he couldn’t do it, but that there were priest’s within the church of Sarath who could.”

“Yes, but…”

“You’re the logical choice to make the request.  You’re a full field-captain and they like you.  It should be relatively easy to convince them and they won’t ask for some ridiculous amount for a donation.” 

“I see, but…”

“It’s for a good cause.  I’m certain Imych was killed and if I’m right the killers lead back to the same people who robbed your inn.”

Kellron held up his hand.  “Enough already; I agree that this sounds like a good idea.  If the bard’s killers are the same people who hired the bandits to rob my inn then I’m doubly for it.  The church generally doesn’t interrogate corpses though so we’re going to have some solid reasons for doing this.”

“Well for starters, whoever heard of a man under twenty-five dying without a mark on him?”

“Besides having too much to drink and falling asleep in the cold weather?”

“Rumor says he had an enchanted cloak that warded off the weather.”

“Any facts?”

Kestral sighed.  “No, but circumstantial evidence might be enough for an inquiry.  Ashimar found a clause in that book of law you guys got last time we were in town.”

“All right; if that’s correct I’ll see what we can do.”

---

Shortly after sunrise the next morning a small group of people huddled around an open grave.  The day was cold and gray as if in sympathy of the magics about to be performed.

Imych had been buried in a small graveyard on the west side of the city.  Not being immediately involved in the burial, no one had thought to question how or why Imych had been laid to rest in a relatively expensive plot of land.

The priest performing the rite was and older gentleman of the faith of Vieta, the Soultaker.  His hair was more white than brown and he was dressed simply in black tunic and trousers.  .  

The witnesses included Narat, the representative of the Sarathian faith, Ashimar, Kellron, Kestral, and Panther.  Jallarzi was still creating a new wand and was unable to attend.  

Kellron and Ashimar pulled the dark wooden coffin out of the ground with ropes they had attached after unearthing it; clods of cold dirt spilling into the hole as they wrestled it over the edge.

The priest of Vieta, Mardouc, looked briefly at his witnesses.  “Be ready to ask your questions; and remember you only get three.”  He ordered and then took three steps to the coffin. “Soultaker, we beseech you.”  He invoked as he grasped the lid of the coffin and opened it up.  The coffin was expensive and well made.  No nails held the lid in place for the lid fit perfectly.  The interior was lined with white linen and the month old corpse of Imych Thassel lay within.  Mardouc wrinkled his nose at the smell and stepped back one step.

“Vessel of Imych Thassel, in Vieta’s name I beseech you to speak and answer truthfully all that is asked.”

Kellron and Ashimar stepped back as the body moved suddenly with a rustle of cloth against linen.  The others moved closer to see within the coffin, morbid curiousity taking over.

The bard was over a month dead yet now the corpse's head swiveled to face Mardouc.  “Of course…Death Speaker.”  The voice was dry and raspy, speaking of a dust-choked throat; but curiously there was an elegance that harkened back to what the voice use to be.

Kellron cleared his throat.  “Ask him how did he die?”

“Can…speak for myself...pot boy.  I was stabbed and the wound healed.  Didn’t die cold though.”

Ashimar, Kellron, and Kestral exchanged glances.

“Who killed you?”  Asked Kellron.

“Don’t know…a man from behind…maybe two.  Stabbed then healed…the wound.  Mended…my clothes.”

Kellron stepped up to Kestral and Ashimar.  “What next?”  He whispered.  

Kestral shook her head, but Ashimar had a thought.  “What about if he knows anything that will help us find his killer.”

Kellron turned.  “What can you tell us about your killers?”

“Said I made…poor choices.  Find letter…in my room.”  There was a rattle and a rustle of cloth and the body of Imych Thassel lay still again.

---

A letter found amongst the belongings still with Imych’s former landlord.  It is written in elvish with a feminine hand 

_Dearest Imych,
Last night was incredible and I can barely wait until we meet again.  I implore you to be careful though, for father is quite angry with you.  He is not happy with the choices you have made; nor mine, I suspect.  Do not mock him, instead save your devilish imagination for me.

I will await you at my booth next evening at the Gaming House.

Jola and Fon’s Love,
Jaylissa_


----------



## Seravin

*Just Three Days*

“_…and by Sarath’s Shield and Sword let there be light!_”  With the completion of the prayer a ball of pale yellow light appeared in Ashimar’s cupped hands.  The glow was solid and unwavering in the squire’s hand as he looked steadily forward.

Standing in her office, Colonel Beka Megara observed the conjured ball of divine light and then closed her eyes; mentally counting backwards from ten to one in dwarvish.  When she was done she spoke out loud.  “The General warned me that there would be days that would challenge me while he was gone.”  

Opening her eyes she swiveled about and gave Squire Ashimar a long look.  “I very specifically did not hear him say that I would find one of our newest, and until now, most promising recruits admitting to stealing.”  She paused a moment to let the full force of her displeasure sink in.  “Can you tell me why the most-wise General Vorun didn’t warn me of this, Squire Ashimar?”

“No ma’am.”  Ashimar kept his voice very carefully neutral, though his real answer was that General Vorun probably hadn’t expected such a spectacular lack of judgement.  Somehow that answer seemed best unvoiced.  

“Just three days ago Kellron was asking to dig up the body of the bard.  I understood his reasoning that there might have been foul play.  I also understood that your companions hoped to recover the bard’s missing instrument.  Normally these are matters for the city-watch to determine; but Kellron is a sober individual and it pleased me to do him and you a favor.”  Colonel Megara paused.

Ashimar caught his cue.  “Yes ma’am.  Thank you, ma’am.”

The colonel snorted.  “Yet somehow this led you to sneaking into a warehouse, breaking into the secure vault, and then!  Then!  stealing every portable item of value.  Can I assume you did this without the knowledge of Field-Captain Kellron?”

“No ma’am.”  Ashimar stumbled.  “I mean Kellron didn’t know, ma’am.”

The elderly officer sighed and shook her head.  “I am not asking if young Kestral Thendry is involved.  I do not want to know right now.  If I find out she was involved, unpleasant things will have to happen.  I believe things are unpleasant enough”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good.  Then tell me of your involvement again so I might understand why Sarath sees fit to continue to grant you some power.  Perhaps I’ll understand why I shouldn’t turn you immediately over to the city-watch.”  The colonel sat down and made herself comfortable.

“Yes ma’am.  Thank you ma’am.”  Ashimar paused in obvious thought, the ball of light in his hands providing a small amount of warmth.  He didn’t even think about banishing the light.

“When we questioned the body it confirmed that it…he had been killed and directed us to find a letter in his room.”  He paused a moment making sure what he was about to say was okay.  “Panther and Kestral took it upon themselves to go find the bard’s house and they paid the landlady to let them search through his things.  They found a love letter signed by a woman named Jaylissa who apparently frequents the Gaming House.  They investigated further and discovered that this Jaylissa was probably the daughter of Grandal Deverex.  He manages the Gaming House.”

“I am quite familiar who Ker Deverex is.  He has been quite helpful in resolving problems with those in our order who take more risks than is wise.”

“Yes ma’am.  Grandal…”

Colonel Megara lifted a finger.

“Excuse me.  Ker Deverex has a daughter named Jaylissa who was having an affair with the bard.  Her letter warned the bard to be more careful and indicated that her father was angry with him.

We, the group of us, discussed this and it was decided that Kellron would try and meet Kerress Deverex at the Gaming House.  Unfortunately Kellron and Kestral were attacked by muggers on the way to the gambling house.  They decided to be cautious and returned to our rooms at the Scabbard.”

Ashimar stopped speaking and thought hard on what to say next.  The next part was kind of tricky.  He didn’t have any direct knowledge of what happened, but he knew in broad terms what was going to happen when Kestral and Panther said they were going to question Jaylissa at her house.  Talking to Kestral while he cured the after-effects of her poisoning had also given him some insight.  

Technically it wasn’t illegal for someone to disguise themselves as a child and trick your way into wealthy person’s home by playing on the sympathy of a grieving woman; technically.  However, inviting your friend who is invisible into the same house without notifying anyone else was certainly less open to interpretation.  Searching the grieving woman’s home, stealing her diary, as well as lifting other portable items to disguise the diary theft _was_ definitely illegal; and no one would care that the grieving woman protected her diary with a viscious, if non-lethal, strength-draining drug.

Ashimar glanced at the colonel who was gazing at him with cool interest.  So far, the colonel was giving him all the time he needed.  “Kestral and Panther decided to ask about the next day and somehow managed to come across Kerress Deverex’ diary.  I believe the Deverex household had been robbed sometime that day and Kestral and Panther aquired the diary from the thief.  I do not know who the thief was, but he apparently heard of Panther and Kestral’s interest.”

“But I bet you could guess.”  Said the Colonel with a grim smile.  “Like I said though, those matters are usually best left to the city-watch.  If you find yourself questioned by the watch I expect you to answer them as fully and as truthfully as you would me.”

“Yes ma’am.”  Ashimar collected his thoughts; the colonel couldn’t have just told him what he thought she told him.  Did she? 

“The diary didn’t prove anything, but Kerress Deverex did write that she was concerned that her father may have had a person named ‘Lore’ kill the bard.  We knew it wasn’t proof though, so based on some other rumors Kestral got a job at one of the warehouses that Ker Deverex was responsible for running.”

“The place that you robbed?  You used her knowledge to break in?”

“No ma’am.  Another one nearby.”  
Unsaid was that Kestral had gotten her job as the child, Beth, through Jaylissa’s recommendation.  Rumor was that street-children were to be left alone in Corlean.  Waif’s were protected by Father Dark in Corlean; unspoken was that any child was potentially a courier for the mysterious Father Dark.

“Kestral expected that she might come into contact with illegal activities at that particular warehouse which might have led us to this Lore person.”

“Did she?”

“Not yet, but she is running courier jobs delivering small amounts of goods and notes.  While we have no proof that any of it is illegal it was highly suggestive.  Additionally it was discovered that there was a concealed tunnel that went from that warehouse to the next one over.  The entrance and exit were covered with spells.”

“How did Kestral discover this if she’s been acting as a courier?”

“She didn’t, ma’am.”

The elderly woman’s mouth quirked.  “Very well.  What happened next?”

“We discussed it and it was thought that this second warehouse was used for smuggling.  We…that is, I thought that everything in this second warehouse was mostly likely stolen, so last night  I was able to sneak into the warehouse without detection, make my way to the secure vault, and check out the contents.”  
Though it had been a close thing.  He and Kestral had nearly been caught, but thanks to her quick thinking they had managed to get hidden before the guards showed up to investigate a noise.

“How did you find it.”

Ashimar smiled slightly.  “I looked for the most protected route, ma’am.”

“It may be that you’re smarter than you are wise.  You should try to be both in equal measure.”

“Yes ma’am.  Once I discovered the harp was not in the vault I thought to punish the criminals by taking what they had stolen away from them.  This was my own idea at the time and obviously wrong in retrospect.”

“Obviously.  You never checked out this other warehouse, did you?”

“No ma’am.”

Colonel Megara was quiet.  “You have left me in a difficult position.  I will admit that I admire the skills it took to get into that vault.  However if word gets out that the order has resorted to stealing, worse stealing becase we didn’t know better, our reputation would be seriously harmed.”  She paused in thought, her fingers tapping a rhythm against the wood of her desk.

“Squire Ashimar, you will return everything you have stolen back to this warehouse.    Additionally you have two weeks to prove your suspicions.  If you cannot then I will most likely have to turn you into the city-watch.”

Ashimar didn’t breathe or move, but imperceptibly he seemed more relaxed.  “Yes ma’am.  We’ll find it.”

“See that you do.  Dismissed.”

Ashimar dismissed the ball of light, saluted, and about-faced.  Before he could march out of the colonel’s office though, she spoke again.

“And Ashimar?  Don’t do anything to bring yourself in here again.”

“Yes ma’am.”


----------



## Seravin

*Questions, Answers, and Problems*

_Blonde-haired, blue-eyed Beth walked through the late morning streets of Corlean.  The morning was chilly and she knew she was running late for her day at the warehouse, but she took the time to observe the people around her.  The woman across the street with the dirty brown hair, sharp nose and scowl; the gentleman approaching with the light eyes and hair who seemed to be some sort of laborer; Beth took her time to look them all over, finding something of interest in everyone she glanced at.  Her sharp mind filed these features away for later use._

--

The well-appointed coach was moving faster through the narrow streets than was really wise; but the driver was one of the best and if he narrowly avoided slower moving pedestrians, at least he advoided them.  Soon the coach was at its destination, and while it wasn’t a record-setting time, the passenger, Grandal Deverex, had no cause for complaint.

Stepping out of the coach, Grandal looked up at his driver.  “Thank you, Tyver.  I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”  Grandal’s voice was devoid of his usual pleasantness.

Tyver shrugged philosophically.  “I’ll be here Ker Deverex.”  There wasn’t much more to be said.  Ker Deverex already knew that and was walking away before Tyver had begun to reply.  Which was just as well really, Ker Deverex was not a happy man right now; and bad things happened when Ker Deverex wasn’t happy.

--

Grandal stalked towards the warehouse but stopped before entering through the main doors as he usually did; the current problem was distracting him more than he liked.  Curling his lip in disgust, Grandal altered his path to the back door of the attached offices. 

The small, dingy office was unchanged from his last visit; two scarred desks dominated the middle of the room, while in the corner a small iron wood stove drove the chill from the room.  Across the room was another door that led to the main floor.  The warehouse manager, Raul, a paunchy, tough looking man in his fourth decade, was sitting at the larger of the two desks looking over a sheaf of papers.  The man was alert however and looked up at Grandal’s entrance; seeing who it was, the dark-haired man stood quickly with a look a respect.

“Sit.”  Ordered Grandal, waving to enforce his order.  Then, composing himself, sighed.  “You heard?”

Raul nodded.  “I heard, both of them.  What did they get away with?”

Grandal’s face curled up into a snarl again.  “At home?  Some minor things, nothing that can’t be replaced; but it was so…amateur!”  The last word was filled with venom.  “Jewelry, loose coins, and some baubles.”  Grandal took a deep breath.  “It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so embarrassing.  What happened at Adar’s warehouse is less funny and not amateurish.  Every lock, trap, and spell bypassed; and every portable item takened. “

“You think they might be related?”

Grandal frowned.  “I don’t know.  They don’t seem related, but the timing seems too coincidental; and what happened at my house bears no resemblance to what happened at Adar’s.”

Raul nodded. “You’re here about the girl I’m guessing?  It’s too much of a coincidence that she showed up here the day of your robbery.”

“The girl showed up then?  I was wondering if it was all a ruse; she showed up with flowers for my daughter from someone.  Maybe this was all innocent after all.  I won’t know until after I talk to her though.”

Raul started to speak and then stopped himself.  Grandal caught it.  “What?”

Raul shrugged.  “She seems like a nice enough kid.  Bright, quick, and doesn’t ask questions.  I like the kid, but I suppose your servants did too.”  Unspoken was the letter of recommendation signed by Grandal’s daughter.

Grandal was a bright man who prided himself on knowing how to read people.  The half-elf knew what Raul was leaving unsaid and why.  He admired the man’s discretion, but then that’s why he had his particular job.  “Is she here?”

“She should be here soon.  I have her running simple errands right now to see how dependable she is.  So far she’s working out pretty well.”

“I can wait then.  In the meantime, let’s go over the shipment coming in this afternoon.”

--

There were two quick taps on the door leading to the main floor of the warehouse.  Grandal and Raul looked at each other and Raul called out, “Enter.”

The door opened up cautiously revealing Beth.  Raul smiled paternally at the young girl.  “Beth, come in.  I have someone for you to meet.  He needs to ask you a few questions and I want you to answer him to the best of your ability.”

The child nodded tentatively and cautiously entered the office, giving Grandal a furtive look as she walked towards the proferred chair.  Grandal used the time for his first impression of the child.  The first thing he noticed was that she seemed older than her apparent years.  Her movements were controlled and possessed a grace beyond most children that age.  She actually reminded him of his daughter when she was young.  The girl also seemed very aware of her surroundings, keeping an eye on him the entire time, sizing him up in return he realized.  _She’s a survivor._  He thought approvingly.  _It’s a shame that children still need these skills, but she has them.  Good._ 

Once she was seated Grandal nodded at Raul who bowed, excused himself and walked out into the warehouse, closing the door behind him.  All would be well.  If it wasn’t, well, better that there were no witnesses.

Grandal smiled pleaseantly at the blond-haired little girl.  “My name is Grandal Deverex.  I’m told your name is Beth?”

The child nodded warily.  “Yes, sir.”  She replied.

“Good, good.  I’m told you met my daughter yesterday, Jaylissa?  She wrote you a letter that told Raul to give you a job?”  

Again the child nodded.  “Uh-huh.”

“Well, yesterday somebody robbed my house about the time you were there.  Did you see anyone when you left?”

The girl tensed, almost imperceptibly, before answering.  “No sir.”

He almost sighed.  He had been hoping that she was truly innocent.  Instead, Grandal shook his head.  “I don’t believe you girl.  You’re lying.”  

He could see the panic well up in her eyes as she shook her head.  “No!  Really!  I was just there to deliver flowers to the pretty lady.  The man said she was unhappy and wanted to cheer her up.”  Beth was looking just over his right shoulder.

CRACK!  Grandal’s hand slammed down on the table.  It startled the girl and she looked at him directly.  He locked his eyes with her.  “No more lying girl.  This is important and I don’t have time for it.”

The girl sniffed and tears started streaming down her face.  “I’m sorry!I’m sorry!He offeredme _silver_ and Ineededthemoneyformysisterandeverything.  Hejustwantedme todelivertheflowers and openthedoorforhimand…”

“Slow down girl!”  Granadal halted her headlong explanation and thought.  This time he believed her and she had said enough for him to piece together what happened.  Now he just needed to confirm a few things.  

“I’m sorry Beth.”  He started gently.  “It’s just that some important things were stolen from me and I need to find out who did it.  I’m going to say some words in elvish for a moment.”  He smiled reassuringly.  “You can think of it as a prayer.”

Beth sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes.

Seeing that she was calming down, Grandal recalled the first real spell that he ever learned and invoked it.  _Detect Magic_ was a simple spell, allowing the caster to determine if a person or item was enchanted.  It was possible that the girl was enspelled in some way, either charmed or scried, or under some sort of illusion (for whatever reason). 

The girl looked at him quizzically, not understanding the words he spoke.  He unfocused his gaze for a moment and looked her over.  Nothing; the only magic within his gaze was the ring on his right hand, and a slight glow from the bottom of Raul’s desk.  Grandal noted three aura’s of conjuration and the one transmutation from the desk.  He made a mental note to investigate the desk; but the girl was clean.

He focused on the girl again.  “See?  That wasn’t so bad; just some words.”  His voice hardened a little.  “Now, tell me about this man.  Who was he?  What did he look like?”

“He was just a man.  He offered me two silver to deliver the flowers.”

“I know.  You told me that.  What did he look like?”

Slowly, Grandal extracted a description from the girl.  Seeing that she wasn’t going to be punished she was eager to help and she apparently had an excellent memory.  Grandal knew he was looking for a human man, about his size, with ragged blonde hair and blue eyes _His hair was the same color as mine and his eyes were blue like a flower)._  The man had a thin goatee _(and a beard in the shape of an upsidedown triangle)_; and when Beth met him the man was wearing a white shirt and dark pants and wore the badge of a stonemason.  

This man had paid Beth to deliver the flowers to his daughter.  She was supposed to find a free moment to let the man in and then leave.  The thief paid her two silvers for the task when she let him into the house.  Grandal was annoyed at Beth, but he understood her motivation.  She was an orphan living on the streets with a younger sister who apparently was picking up a cold.  Grandal would have done the same thing and shown less remorse.  He resolved to help her once he got these other problems resolved.

“All right Beth.  I think you can go now.  Thank you for answering my questions.  Go see Raul and see what he needs you to do.  Then tell him to come see me.”

The wide-eyed Beth nodded and climbed out her chair and headed to the door.  

Grandal leaned back in his chair and thought.  First, he had to find this stonemason; obviously a disguise of some sort, but if the thief was stupid he was still using it.  Grandal allowed himself a small smile while thinking up ways to make the thief pay for setting foot into his house.

At the same time he needed to find out who had done the Adar robbery.  He had already sent a description of the stolen warehouse items to every fence in the city and messengers were on their way to Karos, Harrow, and Jeralin, the three closest cities.  The stolen items had no value until they were sold, and whoever sold them would have a late nate visit within a day of selling.

--

Kestral knocked on Kellrons’ door at the Scabbard.  The paladin answered the door, looking surprised at Kestral’s presence.  “Kestral?  What’s the matter?”

Kestral refrained from asking why he assumed anything was wrong.  “I think I may have made a mistake.”

Kellron sighed and ushered her in.  “What happened?”

Kestral entered and waited until he closed the door.  “You know how I went to work at the warehouse in disguise?”

“Yes.” 

“Grandal Deverex was there when I got there.  His place was robbed after I talked with Jaylissa and since he knew I was there at the time, he wanted to see if I knew anything.”

“And…”

“Well.  I did know something, but he couldn’t tell him that, so I lied.  Only he figured it out and I had to come up with another lie.  He believed that one.”

“Kellron closed his eyes for a moment.  “Sarath.”  He whispered.  “And?”

“Well, I told him a man had paid me to open the door when I left.  Naturally, he wanted a description so I gave him one; but I could only think of a person I saw on the street today so I described him.

Kellron waited patiently.

“Based on what we found out, I think Grandal is capable of and will have this man killed and I don’t know what to do.”

“I…see.”  So Grandal’s house was robbed and when asked about it you gave up an innocent person as the culprit?”

“I was alone with the man. I thought he’d kill me.”

“I see.  We have to find this man.  Do you think you can?”

Kestral nodded.  

“Good.  We’ll find him, and maybe we can dress Ashimar up as him and attract attention.  It will help determine what we’re up against.”

Kestral thought hard and her form shimmered briefly.  In the space of a few minutes Kellron was facing a rather innocuous looking, young tradesman, almost his size with unkempt blonde hair and a rather thin goatee.  “He looks like this.”  She told the paladin.

Kellron nodded.  “I see. I hope you learned your lesson on lying."

Kestral nodded.

“And you and I need to talk when this is over.  If you had anything to do with this robbery it would be best that his things were returned.”

“It was an investigation!”  Defended Kestral.  “Jaylissa’s diary expressly said she thought her father had Imach killed!”

Kellron felt a headache coming on.  “We’ll let the guard decide that.  In the meantime the diary needs to be returned and right now it’s more important that we find this man before something happens to him.”

Kestral nodded mutely, he was right.


----------



## Seravin

The above scene was fun when we ran it.
Kestral's was continuing her charade as Beth in case it might lead to something interesting, but no one in the party had expected Grandal to show up at the warehouse that morning.

Kestral's player found herself thinking fast trying to come up with a suitable lie; unfortunately her bluff score was about equal to Grandal's sense motive.
Grandal blew his spot roll against her disguise, made his first two sense motives by a wide margin, and blew the last sense motive by about 15 points.  I think this was another time that Kestral's player rolled a natural 20.

Kestral's player was sweating things when she realized that Grandal was not speaking elvish and instead invoked some sort of spell.  When she found out it was a detect magic she was very glad of the money she invested in her amulet.

She was less happy when she realized that she inflicted who she believed to be the head of the thieves guild on top of some poor hapless laborer.  Fortunately she had the presence of mind to lie about where the man had approached 'Beth'.


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## Capellan

It's fun seeing PCs getting caught out by their own cleverness.  At least, it is when those PCs are other people 

One thing I like about this group (and this story hour) is the fact that they often use diplomacy and investigation to get things done ... but the things they do can still have consequences.  Good stuff.


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## Seravin

Why thank you - I've got good players who are patient with their DM.    

This entire arc was a learning experience for me and the players.  It started out as needing a break from trolls and morphed into letting the folks with the social skills shine a bit.  

In retrospect it took too long to setup, and some players were bored; however it gave the party some good background to play with later on.  By about this point in the game, the players had about four different plans going, trying anything that looked like it might work.  It made for some good fun, and made the resolution that much sweeter.


----------



## Seravin

*Speeding Forward*

The rest of the day went quickly.  

Ashimar returned his stolen goods to the warehouse late that afternoon, flying above the streets using the magical cloak they had recovered from the bandits at Broken Spire.  He avoided comment by the simple expedient of an invisibility spell provided by Jallarzi.  The task was completed simply enough when he through the sack of goods through the open front door.  Inside the sack was a sermon on the evils of stealing and working with those of evil intent.  

Sadly, it is unlikely that those who read the letter took its contents to heart; for while some of the returned items were added back to the secure vault other items just ‘disappeared’.  To date those items are still officially missing.

--

_Jallarzi spent several hours at the Gaming House that night, having arranged a meeting with the senior manager of the Adar’s Warehouse, Grandal Deverex.  She had arranged the meeting under the pretext of needing a safer place to store an unspecified item then the warehouse’s normal secure vault.  Jallarzi was chosen as the one person that Grandal most likely hadn’t met yet.  Ashimar and Panther were outside waiting for her.

The obvious worth of her possessions and her unflinching acceptance of the cost of security had earned her the meeting.  It was her and her friend’s hope that they might induce Grandal to lead them to whatever secret vault he used for ill-gotten gains._

Both were seated at a private table on the second floor balcony, overlooking the main floor of the house; a bottle of wine and two glasses sat between the two.  Below them, patrons went about their business of losing money and enriching the house. 

“I’m afraid what you ask is quite impossible Kerress Jallarzi.”

Jallarzi, in a brand new, stylish purple dress, smile sweetly.  “I doubt that it is impossible.  I’m sure your people see the vault all the time.  I just wish to reassure myself of its security, especially since I have an item of value to place in it.” 

Grandal interrupted her train of thought.  “I’m quite sorry, Kerress, but I’m sure Adar’s vault is quite suitable.”

“For some people perhaps,” Jallarzi paused, “however I heard about the robbery.”  Jallarzi looked around to make sure no one was near.  When she spoke next, it was with a lower tone of voice.  “I have in my possession a magical staff of frost that I recovered quite recently.  Unfortunately I will be traveling and I’m unwilling to take it with me at this time.”

Grandal smiled encouragingly.  “I understand that Kerress, and in light of that, I will admit that we do have a more secure vault for smaller possessions.  Its security lies as much in its secrecy as anything else though.”  He paused to take a small drink before continuing.  “You can believe me when I tell you I understand the value of this personal possession; but you must also understand that I cannot bring anyone to this vault.  

I understand that you are a student of the Library, so you yourself must know of what could happen if we let just anyone know the location and defenses of this vault.”

“I’m not just anyone…”  Began the young half-elven sorceress.

“I appreciate that.”  Interrupted the older half-elven businessman.  “However, even if that is true, and I believe that it is, I cannot take the chance.  What I can do is arrange to pick up this personal possession of yours at a to-be-named place.  From there I can assure you it would go into a private vault completely secure from magical scrying.  In return you will have a contract backed by the wealth of Quereth household.”

Jallarzi leaned back, defeated.  It was obvious that the businessman was not going to budge.  Frustrated, she capitulated.  “Very well Ker Deverex, I will need to think about this.”  She smiled at him.  “I’m afraid I have a controlling nature and wish to know everything.”

“I quite understand.  I’m the same way myself.”  He stood and bowed.  “If you will excuse me?  Please let me or the Adar managers know your decision.”

--

Meanwhile, Kellron took an evening dinner near the Central Square.  Earlier that day he had gone back to the grave of Imach Thassel, dug up his body and had a priest do an invocation to detect the presense of poison, something they had forgotten to do earlier.  Magical evidence was insufficient in a court by itself, but every bit helped.  

In the morning he would join Kestral and the others in finding the poor uknowning man who had the wrath of probable-murderers pointed at him.  It was felt they would have a better chance of finding this unknown man in the morning when they knew the general area where he worked.  

Kellron looked across the table at his dinner companion, Tore Daergan, a lean-looking woman about his age.  The blonde-hair, blue-eyed woman was a witch on loan to the church of Sarath from the church of Latina.  Even more oddly, or perhaps not, she hailed from the Duchy of Relk far to the south.  Colonel Megara had introduced the two of them earlier in the week as someone who could be of some use in their quest.  _”Her intuition is uncanny and she can tell when someone speaks a lie; she would be useful in your quest.”_

Kellron had spent the last few days with Tore learning more about the young woman since then; and he knew it had probably kept him from getting more active in Kestral’s and Panther’s investigation.  That would change starting in the morning, tonight though was another dinner to learn more about Tore.  It was in his mind to see if she would join them later when they returned to the underdark.

“So, Colonel Megara told you what we are doing?”

Tore nodded gravely, spending her talent silently to learn what she could of this man.  So far she liked what she sensed.  “She has.  I understand that wizards and priests are being kidnapped and sent deep below the ground.”

“That’s right.  We’ve eliminated the bandits who were doing the kidnappings in the County of Haranshire, as well as the orcs they were trading the victims to.”  He shrugged.  “Now we just have to find out who the orcs were passing them on to.  The svirfneblin called them illithid, but we have yet to meet them.”

Tore stiffened at the word.  In the Hidden Vale, that was a black word from a black time.  “I see.”  Was all she said.

“You know of them?”

Tore shook her head.  “Not directly, but there are stories.  Things banished to the darkness in tales meant to frighten children.”  She wrinkled her nose while fighting the urge to reach for the sword she had left behind.  “The stories say that they consider all things are theirs by right, and they eat the brains of their slaves.  None of have been seen in living memory that I’m aware of though.”

Kellron sat back and mulled her words over; that wasn’t much to go on.  “Well, tell me about yourself.  The colonel says you hailed from Relk.”

“I do.  I came north some years ago in the service of the church of Latina.”

Kellron nodded.  “I’m told now days that that is unusual.  Something about witches not being liked in the southern cities?”

“You know?”

“The Colonel told me.”  Seeing her obvious suspicion, Kellron leaned forward and tried to be encouraging.  “It doesn’t’ matter to me.  I trained with a few witches when I was a squire.  They were good men.”

Tore nodded slowly, relief flooding back.  It was always difficult revealing her talents; you never knew how people were going to react.  “I was fortunate at the time I ran into some trouble.  There was a visiting priest of Latina from Karos.  He took charge of the situation and helped not only me, but my family.  When he journied back north I decided to go with him to pay back my debt to the church.”  She shrugged.  “Eventually there was a request by General Vorun for an inquisitor and I was posted here.”

The two continued to converse long into the night.  Both were pleased with how the evening went.


----------



## Seravin

*Ambush Part 1*

As morning dawned over the city of Corlean, Marik Lorland woke up as one of the most sought after people in the Silver City, though as a reasonably honest man he would have been the first to deny it.  A stonemason by trade, his family had learned the craft from his great-uncle, Poul, who in turn had learned the craft from the dwarves of Myrkun-Lor; a fact the family took great pride in.  Still, this matter of pride was not what made Marik so sought after; the root of his sudden elevation in life lay in a lie.

If asked, Marik wouldn’t have remembered the little girl on the street who had regarded him so intently while he hurried to his next job site.  Perhaps it was the high forehead and short-cropped brown hair.  Maybe it was his eyes that were just a shade too close together to be handsome.  Maybe it was nose that had been broken or his burly walk or just his dust covered clothes.  In the end it didn’t matter what about his description that had stuck in Kestral’s sharp mind; for the end result is that it was Marik’s image that Kestral recalled when questioned by Grandal and her near perfect memory provided the details to make it possible to find him.

It’s really not surprising just how surprised Marrik was on that cloud-ridden morning as he walked to work when two men came up on either side of him and hustled him into an empty alleyway without so much as a by your leave.

“Anyone out there?”

“The entire city, but it doesn’t look like anyone only we were following him.”

“Good.”  The speaker, a young man perhaps a decade Marik’s junior, though fully as tall and broad in the shoulder, turned to face the stonemason.  “We apologize sir, but we have it on good authority that there are men out there looking to kill you.  We’d like that not to happen.”

Marik was about to reply when a short, young woman turned the corner and entered the alleyway.  “Looks to be clear.”  She said.

“Who are you?”  Asked the confused stonemason.  It seemed clear he wasn’t going to be mugged, but none of this made sense.

The tall man spoke.  “My name is Kellron and I am from the church of Sarath.  We have reason to believe that a group of thieves is looking for you, quite possibly to kill you.”

“Wha…?  How?  Why?”  Curiously, Marik discovered that he wasn’t scared, the presence of this young man seemed to calm him, but that still did nothing for his confusion.  

The man looked slightly embarrassed.  “Your description was given to them.  What we would like to do is get you to safety and hide you for the next day.  In the meantime we’ll have somebody impersonate you and lure these men out.”

Considering the circumstances Marik should have bid the strangers with their mad proposal goodbye, walked away, and not looked back.  Something made him trust the young man though; he had the serious look of a soldier and a sincerity that literally shone through.

“What do I need to do?”

“Come with us.”

_It was as simple as that.  Marik was given a heavy cloak with a hood and was quickly escorted to a nearby, if unimpressive, inn.  The room had already been rented and two Sarathian church-guardsmen in street clothes were inside.  Marik spent the day quietly, listening to war stories from his protectors.  It wasn’t how he expected to spend the day, but given the circumstances it could have been worse._


----------



## Seravin

*Ambush Part 2*

_HmMmMiNG-iNG-iNG!!!_  Three argent missiles streaked through the air with a variable pitch hum.  Edath didn’t have time to wonder at the sound though as he threw himself to the side to no avail; the missiles swerved in mid-flight and struck him in the back as he rolled to his feet.  Stumbling, Edath looked around at the fight he and his companions now found themselves in.

A beautiful woman with long white hair, dressed in worn, brown travel clothes, and bearing a pale white gem-topped staff stood about sixty feet away, her free hand lowering as she bore a smile of satisfaction.  She hadn’t been standing there moments ago. 

No one had mentioned anything about a sorceress.  This was supposed to have been a simple job; pick up the mark and take them to the Diamond for a little question and answer period.   Edath looked about for his companions.  Lore was still spell-cloaked and out of sight, but Burke and Ramos were moving in towards their target.  Lore would take care of the sorceress.

The mark was turning and watching the events unfold, no surprise or fear was evident; instead he pulled out a shortsword and took a defensive posture.  Then out of their own spell-cloaks of invisibility, two fighters bearing the insignia of the church of Sarath appeared with swords drawn, one of them bearing a flaming sword the other a rapier.  The rapier-wielder closed with Edath as the other went to interpose himself between the mark and Ramos.

Edath cursed as he and his companion were engaged, then smiled as he heard Lore begin shouting.  _KRAKK-AKK!!!_.  Lore appeared as a lightning bolt formed between his outstretched hands and went down one side of the wide alleyway the mark had led them down.  The bolt arced down the right-hand side of alley, striking the weilder of the flaming sword as well as the sorceress, though both managed to dodge out of the way and avoid the full brunt of the stroke.

The sorceress smiled nastily in return, raised her gem-topped staff, and invoked a storm of ice shards around Lore.  Shards of ice and bitter cold rained down about Lore and Burke who happened to be close by.  Edath had watched the exchange out of the corner of his eye, with most of his attention on the rapier wielder.  “Break off!”  Ordered Lore.

Edath’s smile disappeared as he traded blows with his rapier wielding opponent.  The man was good and in a straight-up fight might be able to take him; unfortunately this seemed to be a straight-up fight.  He didn’t have any room to run as the mark they had been trailing had glided up behind him.  Burke and Ramos both stepped back though and downed the invisibility potions that Lore had given them.

Edath watched as Lore invoked another invisibility spell and disappeared and cursed his luck.  This was ending badly and he took a savage satisfaction as his foes cursed as his allies disappeared and fled.  A few seconds later however the rapier wielder knocked him unconscious and Edath didn’t have to worry about anything else for awhile.


----------



## Direwolf82

Heya Seravin,

Just wanted to say, fantastic Story Hour you have going here and to thank you once again for the conversion notes on Night Below. My group is currently tackling the trolls and having a rough time at it. Although, it will never beat when I first ran this campaign for my brothers and some friends, none of them had ever even heard of trolls and were scared almost to death(both as players AND characters back in the 2e days) when they headed back out the caves to find trolls all alive and well.

Keep up the good work, it's an incredibly good read =)

Direwolf


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## Seravin

You're welcome, and thanks for the compliment.    
Good luck to your group and the trolls - hopefully they're using fire this time.

To everyone else, I should be posting soon.  Between the holidays and some personal things, I haven't done any writing for awhile.  I'm hoping to change that soon.


----------



## Seravin

*More Reports*

_Shortly thereafter the building caught fire._

The barrel-chested Watch-Commander, Dolan Jessup, stopped, re-read that last line and swore vehemently.  Lieutenant Brand had just paid for a whole lot of trouble and he probably didn’t even know it yet.  Sighing, the older, graying officer looked glumly at the report in front of him.  Soon he would have to give his version of the report to his Grace, Duke Hilmaron, and he wanted to be able to give the report without flinching under his Grace’s piercing stare.

The events were still a tangled mess and only a handful of people really knew what happened.  It was Latina’s own miracle that the fire hadn’t spread further; by all accounts the fire brigade had been slow to respond, hampered by the fleeing criminals.  Hyla only knew how the cache of alchemist fire kept getting saturated with water.  

Dolan sighed again and looked mournfully at the report and started scanning it again from the top.  In another hour he would have the heroes in his office and he wanted to make sure he asked all the questions that Duke Hilmaron was certainly going to answer.

_The complaintant’s (identified above) brought in the accused just past the second bell.  They claimed that they had been set upon in the North East quarter in an alleyway off of Chance Street.  The complaintant’s further alleged that the accused had three other allies who had gotten away in the ensuing fight and further that one of these allies was a wizard of some power.  There were burn marks on two of complaintants (Field-Captain Kellron and Journeywoman Jallarzi) as well as strong odor of lightning.  The accused refuse to talk at all either to confirm or deny guilt.

I sent two men to confirm the identities of the complaintants and received written verification from Colonel Megara of the church of Sarath, Master Wymeah of the Library, and Watch-Herald Ladea brevetted to our own organization.  While awaiting confirmation of the identities I ordered that the prisoner be placed in a cell.  

While searching the accused for weapons and contraband, Watchman Rok discovered a black silk cord wrapped around the accused’s arm held in place by a copper pin tipped with a garnet.  Watchman Rok reported this immediately and I recognized these as the insignia of the assassin group known as the Black Sashes; though I recognized that this was not definitive proof of being an actual assassin I allowed this to influence my decisions in aiding the complaintants.

Herald Kestral indicated that while investigating the whereabouts of a bard’s harp she had come across suggestions of a criminal conspiracy to capture or kill a stonemason by the name of Marik Lorland.  The conspirators had somehow been wrongly informed that this stonemason was involved in some sort of wrong doing though she did not appear to know exactly what kind.  Lacking any evidence to take to the Watch, she and her friends decided to rescue the stonemason themselves by magically taking his place while he was spirited away to a safe place._

Dolan snorted.  He had some very pointed questions to ask this Kestral Threndy.  Somehow he knew that she was involved more deeply then she had admitted to the Lieutenant.  She was probably very pretty and had distracted the young idiot from asking all the correct questions.  

The Watch-Commander sat back and took a drink of tea from his rapidly cooling mug.  Calling Brand an idiot wasn’t really fair, but he was young and it showed.  The Lieutenant was the younger son of one of the lesser earls living in the city and had decided on a Watch career; his family had ‘helped’.  Fortunately the young man was competent, if still green and was capable enough in enacting his day-to-day duties; these circumstances weren’t day-to-day though and it was unfortunate that Brand had done almost everything exactly right.

_After everything had been verified I allowed Squire Ashimar and Herald Kestral to speak with the prisoner alone.  I had a guard posted close enough to hear any call for help or to invervene in case of any untowardness; the guard reported that all went peacefully.*  Afterwards, Squire Ashimar and Herald Kestral reported that the prisoner refused to speak about why he was apparently after Marik Lorland but that he had been given his job at the Blue Diamond, a tavern in the North-East quarter.  Still lacking any evidence or a direct confession I nevertheless dispatched a squad to the Blue Diamond and allowed the complaintants to leave to take care of other business._ **

It looked okay on the face of it.  The Watch-Commander had been a member of the watch for over twenty years.  He knew exactly what the dispatched squad would have found when they arrived at the Blue Diamond.

_When the squad returned they noted that all seemed normal at the Blue Diamond, though the squad-leader noted that some of the patrons seemed extremely on edge and that there seemed to be an abundance of coin on some of the tables._

Watch-Commander Jessup was well aware that some wealthy families involved themselves in criminal activities, and given their resources were more than able to plan for the long-term; he was also cynical enough to believe that the best the Watch could do was keep the worst of the excesses in check.  No doubt the squad had been spotted the moment they appeared on the same street as the tavern, giving the owners a chance to hide any blatantly illegal activity.  The older officer contined to skim the report.

_Just before nightfall the complaintants appeared again, this time alleging that upon visiting the Blue Diamond they found that it was also acting as an untaxed gambling house.  Given the previous squad’s report and the credentials of the complaintants I thought it best to personally investigate the charges.

It was decided that I would accompany the complaintants in plainclothes while the rest of my squad would hang back under the cover of heavy cloaks.  If I was able to verify their claims that the establishment was involved in running games of chance we would then signal my squad to make arrests.

The complaintants admitted that they hoped to use the arrests and the ensuing chaos as a chance to search the premises for evidence of the presumed assassination attempt against Marik Lorland.  I deemed that there was a reasonable chance of this and agreed to let them search while I and the squad made the arrests._

The Watch-Commander couldn’t suppress another snort.  That was the Lieutenant’s youth and inexperience speaking.  Assassins weren’t hired with written contracts that outlined that some poor deserving bastard needed to be killed which were then conviently left lying around.  Assassins were hired with soft words and much gold and perhaps a few favors.  There had been zero chance of finding any evidence of why this Edath suspect had been hired to kill Marik Lorland. 

Lieutenant Brand was obviously too young and trusting; there had been no evidence of the assassination, but life was for learning and moving on.  The Watch-Commander just wished he could be more glad about what they did find.

_It started snowing on our way to Blue Diamond which hid our approach quite well.  Upon arriving at the tavern Herald Kestral and I entered the establishment after convincing the door guard that we were there to game and it was okay.  We were admitted without incident and I observed at least ten games going on in the common room.  Within several minutes after seating ourselves I noticed that two games ended, whereupon a portion of the winnings were sent to the front counter and given to the bartender.  

Upon this partial evidence (I was awaiting a full confirmation that the establishment was not licensed for gambling) I paid the bill and left with Herald Kestral.  As soon as we were outside I signaled my squad and Herald Kestral’s allies.  I then directed half of my squad to the rear of the building.  Once set I then knocked upon the same door we had just exited to gain admittance and announced myself.  The doorguard opened the watch-window and immediately slammed it while raising an alarm inside.  

My half of the squad and I proceeded to try and enter the tavern.  At about the same time Squire Ashimar noticed a concealed entrance into the building nearby.  He and his comrades entered the building that way and were able to free up the main entrance enough for us to enter.  

Once inside Squire Ashimar apparently discovered another secret door leading to a basement.  Field-Captain Kellron led his group downstairs to investigate.  Shortly thereafter the building caught fire._

Secret doors.  Untaxed gambling.  This Blue Diamond reeked of trouble.  Watch-Commander Jessup could only hope that whoever had the funds to hire a wizard and a group of assassins was now too busy to hire the same group again to go after a simple Lieutenant.  What with the rumors that the soldiers were going to be deployed north (In the winter!), he couldn't afford for there to be any trouble in the city.

---
_*I don’t recall much of the conversation, but Kestral and Ashimar went in to talk with Edath (their assassin prisoner).  I seem to recall that this was the first time that Kestral tried to use all three of her ranks in intimidate; rather ineffectually.  It wasn’t until she and Ashimar teamed up that they managed to get anything at all from him.

**Notably Kestral immediately met thereafter with Watch-Herald Ladea to arrange a ‘sister’ to backup her story with Grandal about her sick sibling.  She had realized partway through the questioning of the assassin that portions of her story were being checked up on.  By the end of the day the Herald’s had adopted a small eight year old orphan girl named Erica who agreed to accept ‘Beth’ as her sister.  Kestral made a point to spend time with the girl during her remaining time in Corlean.  After starting this process the group went onward to the Blue Diamond. _


----------



## Seravin

There's a couple more parts to this.  Hopefully to be posted by Sunday.


----------



## Capellan

Y'know, I don't remember the _Night Below_ boxed set being anywhere near this interesting -- good stuff, Seravin


----------



## Seravin

Capellan said:
			
		

> Y'know, I don't remember the _Night Below_ boxed set being anywhere near this interesting -- good stuff, Seravin



High praise, thank you.    

I have to disagree a little bit, but I was enthralled with _Night Below_ from the first time I picked it up.  The module provides an excellent framework with lots of interesting bits here and there.  Of course being a framework it fit easily in my home brew, but on the flip side it required a fair amount of fleshing out.  And to be fair, what makes this game memorable for me is the players.

Like I said earlier, this section of the adventure didn't actually work out in play very well.  We blew about three 4hr sessions just doing the various investigations and a few of the players got bored with the format.  Still the end game was pretty satisfying overall.

After this I started using email between games when it was important for the players to know what was happening and needed to respond but would otherwise take too much gametime to go through.  This worked out well for us.


----------



## Seravin

*Den of Thieves*

_The Blue Diamond_ happens to be the name of a very expensive restaurant in the heart of Kalta, the Imperial capital city.  Over three centuries old the restaurant is known to have some of the best cooking in all the empire.  Moreover, the restaurant has proudly hosted at least one meal for every heir to the throne since its opening.  The name itself has gained enough fame that almost every major city of the empire has its own Blue Diamond; some owned by the original owners in Kaltta, others by complete unknowns.

The Blue Diamond in Corlean is a long way from her namesake in Kalta, both in distance and spirit.  According to the Imperial building and tax records The Blue Diamond is a small tavern and inn that rents space out of a privately owned building; a small carvan outfit and two shops also share space within the large building.  The actual owner of the building is a small merchant house that moved its operations to Jeralin some three decades ago.  Rent is collected every quarter and sent south to Jeralin via the caravan office.  The actual owner of The Blue Diamond is currently unknown.

One of the first things that Kestral noticed upon arriving at The Blue Diamond was that it was across the street from the Holtson warehouse where she ran her jobs as Beth; just as importantly it was across a narrow alleyway from the warehouse that she and Ashimar had broken into two nights previous.

The building itself is a long two story affair with a small stub jutting out of one long side, forming almost a ‘T’.  Contrary to Lieutenant Brand’s report the front of the building is the long flat side, while the back side where the stub comes out is where he actually entered to get into the gambling room.

Looking at the front of the building at the rightmost side there is the shop called ‘The Emporium’ which sells anything and everything a traveler might want; from good luck charms to warm blankets to traveling cookpans.  The owner also rents out the space immediately above his shop as well as a small basement just below.

Immediately next to The Emporium on the left is the Blue Diamond tavern operation.  Behind the bar is the kitchen and meeting room.  Directly behind the tavern, leading into the part of the building that juts out the back is the caravan office, though there is no obvious direct connection between the caravan office and the tavern rooms.  Oddly enough there is also no obvious way to the second floor immediately above the tavern; though the caravan outfit rents the space immediately above their offices as well.  

Next over to the left of the tavern are the entrances to the private rooms and bunks that the Blue Diamond rents out.  At the back of a long hallway, past a door, there is the gambling room though the room itself has a private entrance from the back of the building.  The gambling that goes on in the gaming room is mostly small time and the room is more valued if only because the people who frequent the place keep to themselves.

Finally, on the far left of the building is a Mertaf’s Pawn Shop whose entrance is at the rear of the building.  Mertaf has a reputation of buying anything, no questions asked.  The front of building is rented out by The Blue Diamond as well as the whole of the upstairs.

When Lieutenant Brand arrived with Kellron and friends they went to the back of the building and straight to the entrance of the gaming room.  Having been there just hours before Kestral was able to gain immediate entrance with the Lieutenant; it didn’t take long for the Lieutenant to verify that the house was getting a piece of the action.

Gambling in and of itself is not illegal in Corlean, but Duke Hilmaron  wants to make sure that it is fair and that the city gets its fair share; as such all establishments that host games of chance must declare itself on the city tax rolls.  For various reasons, most involving greed, The Blue Diamond chose not to do so.  Given that no trouble happened on the nearby streets and that its clientele was unlikely to go to the watch, the risk should have been minimal.

When the Lieutenant tried to enter a second time, this time in his official capacity with his men in tow, the door guard panicked and slammed the door shut and called out the alarm.  This was the first mistake. 

The second mistake was made by the on-site guards the owners happen to employ to deal with ‘problems’ that sometimes came up within or about the tavern; problems aren’t tolerated near The Blue Diamond.  The four guards on duty this night responded to the ruckus at the back of the building by pouring out of their little guardpost right into Kellron and Ashimar’s waiting blades.  The fight didn’t last long and is only worth mention in passing.  

The door the guards came out of (which wasn’t as concealed as Lieutenant Brand’s report indicated) led through a little guardroom into a private meeting room and the Diamond’s kitchen.  This led to the main tavern which people were trying to escape from.   In the ensuing chaos the group saw not only a person trying to use a secret door that led between the tavern and the gaming room, but another secret door that led into a concealed hallway that led to stairs leading down.

That’s when things got interesting.


----------



## Seravin

As the title of the last post indicates, I used the 2ed product called "Den of Thieves".  It came with a great foldout map and some nice descriptions of how a thieves guild might look.
I recommend it just for the map alone, but I like the write-up of the guild also.


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## Seravin

_I'm changing things around a bit.  While writing the next chapter this is what came about instead and it more properly goes here.  I'm moving the chapter 'First Basement' to the next post.'  It's what I get for posting as soon as I write and I hope this isn't too annoying._

*The Guild*
Let us call this group of criminals reported by Lieutenant Brand 'The Blue Diamond Guild', though the head of this guild would never have given the ogranization such an obvious name.  The leader, Father Dark, is first and foremost a businessman who understands that flamboyant names and activities do not lead to contined business and thus continued profits. 

It was in the name of business unhindered by any moral considerations that Father Dark and his lieutenants diversified into prostitution, gambling, loansharking, and other questionable so-called soft crimes.  None of these activities when properly regulated were illegal in the city of Corlean, but there is a high profit to be made when these activities are not regulated.  Even better, few people complain about these crimes; and for those who do complain, well…there are other crimes that are less soft.  

Robbery, burglary, extortion, bribery, and murder were performed at first to cover the primary activities until someone realized that these crimes are also high-paying profit centers.  Smuggling, fencing, forgery, and managing petty pickpockets were just natural extensions of business as usual after that.

Naturally these activities required many degrees of secrecy.  To that end Father Dark has ensured that there are many layers between him and the ‘clients’ of his organization.  Cllients only know of the establishment which provides the particular vice they participate in, and only the proprietor of the establishment knows who collects the daily cut.  Employees know better than to talk to anyone else of what they know.  Just in case however, Father Dark only ever appears amongst his employees wearing a black silk mask that completely covers his face.  How he sees or speaks unmuffled is chalked up to magic.

The one weak point is that all large businesses need a place to collect and account for the monies.  Further, the most loyal employees are those whose living and lodging depends upon the success of the business and all of this requires infrastructure.  The building in which The Blue Diamond resides answered these problems for Father Dark quite nicely, for it had been built over one of the ruins of the city that had existed on this same location millennia ago.  These ruins were quite extensive and formed a small network between several buildings in the neighborhood.  The existence of these connections were hid over the years and used for many different purposes until Father Dark consolidated his influence and power over the neighborhood and ‘inherited’ the buildings.


----------



## Seravin

_You've probably already read this chapter.  The new chapter is the previous one. After I wrote it I saw that it went better before this one as an explanation of what the party went up against.  My fault for posting this a chapter at a time instead of waiting until it was all perfect.  Though if I had waited for that I never would have posted._ 

_*The First Basement*_

Wooden stairs creaked under the clanking weight of Kellron as the armored paladin of Sarath made his way down the hidden narrow stairs.  Four steps from the bottom he paused and turned his head to get a glimpse of those behind him.  “Looks clear.”  He called back in not quite a whisper.

Unsaid was that Kellron in his armor was most likely the loudest person in the entire building.  Anyone who heard the warrior was undoubted hiding in the shadows went for a chance to strike.

The stairway opened up not quite in the middle of the back left quadrant of a large, wide-open room; obviously a meeting hall of some sort.  The entire room was paneled in wood, even the ceiling, though they knew they were at least eight feet of earth between the ceiling and the floor of the building above.  The room itself had a ceiling height of about eight feet and it was lit by the flickering light of torches that produced no smoke.

At the opposite end of the room from the stairwell was a simple dais, completely unadorned and probably used for giving speeches and directions.  Between the stairs and the dais were a number of simple, dark wooden benches worn smooth and glossy with use.  The back wall opposite the dais (behind the stairs) was lined with simple tapestries which held abstract patterns.

As Kellron stepped into the room Ashimar quickly slipped past him.  Both warriors had their weapons out and they quickly spread out as Jallarzi and Kestral made their way down the stairs and into the hall at a calmer pace.  Panther had stayed above to provide an extra pair of eyes in case anything happened.

Ashimar and Kestral caught each other eyes and after a slight gesture and a nod the young man went to explore the dais while Kestral went to look at the tapestries.  “Why don’t you two check out the benches?”  Suggested Ashimar.  The paladin and sorceress both nodded; content to at least be doing something.

“What do you got?” Keststral called out to Ashimar.  

“Just a concealed podium.”  Said the young man with disgust, standing up from behind the dais.

“I got a concealed door.  There’s a room behind this tapestry and it has stairs.”

“Too simple.  Let’s check the walls.”

Kestral shrugged and she and Ashimar began to examine the paneled walls and Jallarzi and Kellron split up to help them.

Ashimar and Jallarzi found the first secret door near the dais where the tell-tale scrapes on the floor gave evidence to a section of the wall that swung away.  Kestral and Kellron found the second door, also near the dais, opposite the first.  Opening both doors revealed narrow wooden corridors lined with doors.

“Explore some more, go up, or go down?”  Asked Ashimar.  “I think down.”

“The good stuff is always down.”

“Down.”

“Down.”

“Down it is.”  The four friends quickly made their way past the tapestry and down their second flight of hidden stairs.

_And thus the first basement of The Blue Diamond was passed.  Most of the folk who used the bedrooms and offices were out ‘working’.  Those who had come back after the dayshift had ended were mostly in the offices finishing up the countings of the day take and passing along the tips they had found out.

When the alarms were raised much evidence was destroyed and a few minor trinkets made their way out with several hundred coins.  For as the heroes had learned criminals did indeed make their lair near the Holtson Warehouse, it was just that the entrance to their lair was across the street under The Blue Diamond._


----------



## Seravin

*The Second Basement*

_By the time Lieutenant Brand and his men had secured the tavern and gaming room of the building, magical alarms placed by Father Dark began to alert the people in the basements below.  At almost any other time of the day or night the Lieutenant and his men might have been ‘dealt’ with in a suitable manner, possibly never to be seen again.  Two things prevented this however.  

The first was that it was early evening, meaning that the members of the organization who worked the night trade were out and about performing their assigned tasks; while those who had ‘worked’ the day were still out and about relaxing.  Because of this there were very few people on hand.  

The second reason was that the people capable of making the decision were out on a mission of their own this evening.  There were at least four (maybe five) strangers in town causing trouble for the organization.  Night Sashes had been hired to deal with the problem and several senior members were out with them.  Rumor had it that The Scabbard was going to be a bad place to be this evening._

Quentin Weelak is a private, cold, and calculating man well into his third decade.  The wide-shouldered, dark-haired, dark-eyed man is the night taskmaster assigned to overseeing all robberies and extortions within the North-East quarter of Corlean.  He carries out his duties with a cold and ruthless, impersonal efficiency; and as such is highly regarded and not a little feared by those who work with him.

On the evening The Blue Diamond was raided Quentin was leading his crew through a rehearsal for later that evening in the third basement training room.  When the alarms began to sound Quentin waved for his five men to follow him upstairs to see what was going on.

--

Quentin and his crew had just made it to the second floor training room when Quentin’s keen ears caught the pounding of feet coming down the stairs.  He held up his hand to stop his men and waited to see who was coming down in such a hurry; perhaps they had information on what was going on above.  

It didn’t occur to Quentin or his men that anyone had found the secret doors, so the taskmaster was surprised when four strangers spilled off the stairs into the room.  They were an odd lot, led by a man in a simple chain shirt adorned with a Sarathian symbol and bearing a rapier, followed by another apparent Sarathian in full plate armor, a white-haired woman bearing a white staff, and another umimpressive looking woman.

Both groups stopped and stared at each other for a full heartbeat wondering what to do for a minute.  The lead stranger with the rapier quickly spoke up however, allaying Quentin’s suspicions.  “You folk need to get upstairs quickly.”  Ordered the young man.  “The Watch has raided the gaming room upstairs.  We were told to get everyone out safely.”  The young man spoke with authority and with no hesitation.  

Quentin thought it over in his mind quickly.  He didn’t know the man but it was certain he was one of the assassins sent to deal with the troublemakers causing Father Dark so much trouble.  No one else would have those orders or know how to get down here.  He eyed the four competent looking strangers again and almost felt pity for the poor souls these assassins were going to kill tonight.*

“Right.”  Responded the taskmaster.  “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Not a problem.  We’ll sweep the rooms below for any stragglers.”

Quentin nodded and waved his crew onward.  They slipped past the assassins and made their way upstairs through the secret ways out of The Blue Diamond.  Quentin was most chagrinned that evening when he finally realized that those ‘assassins’ who had warned him were the adventures Father Dark wanted dead.  Being a practical man however he was just as glad he had fallen for their ruse; he had no desire to face any of them in a fair fight.

Thus unwatched, the four friends availed themselves of the stairs down and completed the second basement of The Blue Diamond; ignoring any possible secret doors and the hidden offices and quarters beyond.

--
_* I believe this was Ashimar’s first and only bluff check.  He didn’t have any ranks and his Charisma is only so-so.  I think there was a fourteen point spread between the opposed rolls before any modifiers for believability._


----------



## Seravin

*The Third Basement*

The third basement of The Blue Diamond tavern serves mainly for training and planning.  There are a few private rooms on this level for the senior taskmasters, but for the most part the organization’s members are uncomfortable living this far below ground.  

Like the two other floors above, the third basement is entirely paneled in a worn dark wood and lit by magical torches that emit neither heat nor smoke.  There is however a slight musty smell reminiscent of several unwashed people forced into close proximity.  Unlike the floors above where various sections are separated by hidden doors, the bulk of the third basement rooms are open to each other with only a few hidden areas.  

The third basement’s first training room is filled with a variety of items, including a variety of mats, hanging ropes for climbing, and a small fighting ring.  The room is large and of the same size as the two rooms directly above it.  Unlike the first two room above, the first training room has an actual door that leads out as well as an open archway that leads to a narrow corridor.

The small corridor wraps around the south end of the first training room which apparently leads to a dead end.  Suspicious people will quickly find the secret door at the far end that leads to the first set of hidden rooms.  For the most part these rooms are unoccupied; however there are a couple rooms occupied by night workers who have squirreled away a few coins and trinkets.  Predicatably Ashimar and Kellron decided against searching these rooms as they came across them and choose to search the hallway finding yet another secret door that led into the second training room

The second training room is of similar size and equipment as the first training room.  Three normal doors lead out from it, one on the east wall that leads back to the first training room and two on the west wall.  One of the doors leads to a small guardstation, but this was undiscovered on the night of the raid, for the other door on the west wall was investigated first and leads to a far more interesting room, filled with a variety of locks and a variety of doors in free-standing frames.

The room of locks is obviously a training ground for those learning how to bypass mechanical defenses.  Ashimar and Kestral were impressed by the variety and quality of the locks, ranging from the simple to wickedly complex.  It took only a brief discussion between the four friends to decide to search the room and the three locked doors leading out of the room.

Jallarzi, Sarah the cat, and Kellron walked around the room looking for anything obvious while Ashimar and Kestral checked out the three locked doors leading out of this room.  

Ashimar hit pay-dirt with what was obviously an armory filled with quality made weapons.  A small assortment of every type of weapon was represented; some bearing obvious marks of the empire and the Watch.

It was Kestral who had the biggest find however.  Behind the locked door she choose to open the former courier found a complete counterfeiting outfit, including a coin minting set.  Close examination revealed that the minting set had two complete coin dies for every imperial denomination.

“Guys, look at this!”  She called out after looking around the room.  “They were making their own coins here; shaving them too.”

Kellron and Ashimar joined her immediately in the room; Kellron out of a sense of protection and Ashimar more out of professional curiousity. 

Kestral held out her palms, showing the two men a single set of coin dies.  “Copper, silver, gold, and platinum.  They could make anything they wanted here.”

Ashimar let out a low whistle.  “This just made getting in here worth it.”

Kestral nodded and offered up the four coin dies to Kellron.  “You take them in case something happens.”

Kellron nodded gravely and accepted the set of dies, proud of Kestral’s caution and honesty.  It never occurred to either man to ask if there had been a second set and where it might be.  Which was just as well as they were hastily concealed in Kestral's pouch.

The third locked door led through a small hallway into yet another training room, this one obviously meant to train for rooftop work.  Two walls were set up for climbing and there were balance beams and low tightropes set up throughout the room. 

Two more doors, the last of which was spell-trapped with a lightning bolt were passed and eventually the four friends made their way down to the fourth basement.  If they had thought about it and applied carefully calculation they would have realized they were now under the very warehouse that Kestral and Ashimar had robbed two nights previous.


----------



## Seravin

Kestral's player noted that the part of the previous of post was either vary subtle at best and potentially confusing at worst.  I've rewritten and highlighted a couple changes.

Kestral's player has kept this particular secret for the last two years both game time and real time.


----------



## Seravin

*The Fourth Basement*

_The bulk of The Blue Diamond’s fourth basement actually resides under the neighboring warehouse; though the only direct access to this level is from The Blue Diamond building itself.  This basement is where the leadership and taskmasters store the majority of their aquired loot.  This level is also unique in that it is the only sub-basement which has exits into the surrounding sewer tunnels.

Needless to say the fourth basement is well secured and only the leadership of the guild knows where all the hidden exit tunnels are and how to safely bypass this level’s physical and magical protections.  These protections are extensive and rumors of them are discouraged, though the leadership has on occasion started their own false rumors as an act of disinformation.  The leadership is well aware that they are training the largest group of people most likely able to bypass their own security._

Again, Ashimar was the first person down the stairs and he took a quick look around and his friends gathered around behind him.  This time they were in a storeroom, filled near to bursting with small boxes and crates.  “What do you think they have here?”  He asked out loud.

“Let’s find out.  Maybe we’ll find Imych’s harp.”

“Maybe.”  With that the four began to pick randomly through the boxes, prying open the sealed crates with prybars the previous movers had left behind.  It quickly became apparent that there was no rhyme or reason to stacking of the boxes.  One box held crystal goblets while another contained a collection of sharp cheeses.  In the corner was a rolled up rug apparently made in Relk, while behind a stack of boxes was a pile of forgotten books (poetry of the Southern Empire).  After a quick five minutes of ransacking the room with nothing exceptionally interesting found, the group decided to move on through the iron-bound, heavy wooden, double doors that were on the far side of the room.  

Ashimar checked the doors first, sighed, and then stood up gesturing for Kestral to take a look.  The young woman approached the door warily for none of them believed that anything on this level would be untrapped. 

“Another spell-glyph.”  She announced after a thorough examination.  Pulling out her tools she began to carefully etch additional incisions into the nearly invisible runes around the door.  After a short while she stood up and waved Kellron forward.  “Your turn.  It’s unlocked and I think the trap is disabled.”

Kellron suppressed a sigh and mentally steeled himself as Kestral backed away.  Once everyone was clear he firmly grasped the heavy latch, lifted it, and pulled open the rightmost wooden door.  The doors swung silently open on well-oiled hinges revealing a short, wide hallway with identical doors at the end.  Before Kellron could say anything, Kestral was right there kneeling on the floor and examining the floor just inside the hallway.

Her caution was well reward as her sharp eyes caught the subtle displacement in the wooden paneling.  It took only a bit of experimentation and probing to find a concealed panel with a lever inside.  Kestral pulled the lever up into the up position and then cautiously made her way down the hallway.  It looked like the wall paneling would swing open to reveal some nasty trap or another.  Privately Kestral was betting on scything blades but perhaps poisoned darts or some other ugly mechanical monstrosity.  

The far doors were trapped similarly to the first set and it didn’t take Kestral long to disable this one too.  She gestured Kellron forward and moved out of the way as he prepared to open the double doors.

This time the paladin swung both doors open, revealing another obvious storage room.  Unlike the first storage room, this one was perhaps a little larger and nearly empty, with only a few stacks of boxes here and there.  However, like the first storage room this one was lit by two flickering, magical torches.  Kellron entered first as Ashimar, Kestral, and Jallarzi closed up ranks behind him in the tunnel.

*ZzzRAaaP!*

Five feet into the room, Kellron was nearly knocked backward as a bright blue spark nearly exploded on top of him.  Kellron was now face to face with a bright, glowing blue ball of light hovering just in front of him.  The warrior was certain it hadn’t been there when he walked in but his still spasming muscles confirmed it was there now.

The globe of light pulsed briefly as if amused and zipped forward again. *ZzzRAaaP!*  Kellron’s still tingling muscles were slow to react as his armor channeled another burst of electricity and then the ball of light zipped away into the middle of the room.

Shaking his head and shrugging off the pain, Kellron drew his sword and moved into the room; his enchanted blade catching flame as it cleared the scabbard.  Ashimar, Kestral, and Jallarzi also moved into the room, fanning out while reaching for weapons and spell components.

*ZzzRAaaP!*  This time Jallarzi took the brunt of the electric blast as the globe darted in, touched her, and darted away.  “Aoowww!  Will-O’-Wisp!”  She called out as she tried to remember what she could of the creature; nothing came to mind.”

Ashimar charged the wisp which was now hovering some thirty feet away, swinging his rapier and wondering what the heck was going to happen.  The lightball was murderously fast and the electric arcs were doing more then just stinging.  Unfortunately the creature just bobbed out of the way of swing.

Jallarzi focused passed the tingle and forced her muscles to work as she let loose with a trio of magic missiles.  Fortunately the bolts unerringly sought out the bobbing light, swinging wide around the creature before striking, causing the creature to leave a small trail of roiling blue vapor.  By accident Jallarzi had stumbled on one of the few weaknesses of the creature.

Kestral eyed the situation grimly and with a shrug pulled out her bow, nocked an arrow, and let loose at the creature.  With Ahsimar standing right next to it she had little hope of hitting, but there was always luck.  She missed.

Kellron charged just as Kestral’s arrow arced over the bobbing light.  He was luckier then Ashimar and Kestral and managed to connect against the wisp; his flaming blade trailing burning vapor as he passed through the lower third of the wisp.

_It was a long, hectic fight.  The creature was faster then everyone else and Kellron found himself chasing the creature about the room as it zapped everyone.  By the time Kellron’s blade sliced through the creature for the final time, Jallarzi found herself barely standing and neither Ashimar nor Kellron were looking good.  Only Kestral was virtually unscathed for she hadn’t posed much of a threat.  

As one, they decided to take stock and expend what healing resources they needed.  Briefly they wondered how the creature had been bound to the room.  That question would go unanswered however and they would never learn that the will o’wisp had been drawn from the fiendish realms with a magical contract._

Ashimar stowed his empty potion vial in his pouch and let out a long sigh.  “Huh.  What now?”
“I don’t see any doors.”  Spoke up Jallarzi as she walked around.

“No visible doors.”  Corrected Kestral.

“I have an idea.”  Piped up Ashimar.  “Since every other door has been spell-trapped, how about a detect magic?”

“Good idea.”  So saying, Jallarzi invoked the simplest of divinations and scanned the room.  “On second thought, great idea.”  She concentrated briefly and then began to slowly walk around the room.  “I see only three sources.  One on each of the long walls, and a third over here on the floor in the corner.  Moderate strength and illusionary.”  She puzzled the last out in her mind as she directed Ashimar and Kestral to the wall sources.

It took the former rogue and the courier only a few seconds to find the hidden doors on the walls.  Kestral spent a few more minutes on her door and confirmed the existence of a spell-trap on it.  Next they investigated the enchanted patch of floor; this time it took over a minute to find the devilishly hidden trap door, which in the end was only given away by the spell-trap runes encircling it.

Ashimar looked sidelong at Jallarzi.  “Do you have a Dispel Magic?”

“Wand, scroll, or spell?”  She asked sweetly.

“Whatever it takes.”

Shortly the spells on the two secret doors and the trap door were either suppressed or dispelled.  Investigation revealed that the two secret doors opened into narrow stone corridors, each of which had a trace of sewer stench.  After a brief conference they decided to head further down.

Their decision ws well rewarded.  The trap door revealed yet another narrow tunnel that sloped away and upward, to finally open up into another empty room lined with a dull, gray metal.  At the far end of the room was heavy iron door with three locks on it.  Between Kestral and Ashimar it took only a few minutes to open the heavy door.  The tunnel beyond opened up into a water filled cavern, echoing with the sound of running water.


----------



## Seravin

I was going through some paperwork this morning and found the original adventure write-up for this arc that made me realize I had forgotten a few things about this session.  I suspect my players would say 'whatever' but I'm something of a completist when it comes to stories.  Fortunately my girlfriend puts up with it pretty well.

As I said earlier these write ups are from a combination of in-game notes and memory, which were only briefly detailed during the first year or so.  All of the events described pretty much happened (in game   ) but the dialog is almost completely made up unless a player said something that particularly stuck.  Still and all I think I'm doing pretty good considering my game notes for the first 150+ days fit on 13 pages.

For example, my notes for the last few posts consist of:
_The group talks to Kellron, letting him know what’s going on.  He determines it’s best to find the man Kestral described to Grandal as the person who paid her to let them into his house.
Eventually they find the man and cart him off to a safe house.  Kestral then poses as the man and makes her way around the city – guarded by her friends.
Eventually the group is ambushed by a group of assassins, including a sorceror, a fighter, and two professionals.  The party captures one assassin and every one else flees.
Interrogation reveals that the thieves guild is located near the two suspected warehouses.
After conferring, Ashimar and Kellron go to the Guardhouse to talk with someone in charge.  They turn over the assassin and convince the Lieutenant the place needs to be investigated – if only for non-taxed gambling.
A little later the party descends upon the illegal gambling den.  They sneak the lieutenant in and show him the gambling going on and he starts his raid.  The rest of the party descends into the thief-den, meeting very little resistance.
Eventually after overcoming many traps and guardians the party finds the vault and loots everything from it. _    :\  

Memory fills in the rest.

So this morning I went looking for the vault notes so I could write up the next installment and I find my hand drawn maps and notes I had made to run through the encounters.  I had forgotten I had these.  To be fair my memory was pretty accurate.

Except for the hallway trap that released the Insanity Mist, the two (not one) will o'wisps that gave the party pause, the water filling the tunnel just beyond the trap door, and the bound air elemental that was in the last small room before the water filled cavern.  
It's amazing how looking at the notes triggered more memories of that session.    

Normally I'd just update the chapter and let folks know; but as I'm going on vacation in a couple days and I want to complete this arc before leaving, I'm just going to leave things as they are and proceed to the next installment.  Hopefully I'll find the time to re-do The Fourth Basement chapter while I'm gone.


----------



## Seravin

*The Vault*

Standing at the end of the short, rough-cut, curving tunnel where deep, blue water roiled up to the edge, Kestral raised her magical amulet over her head to bring as much light as possible into the watery cavern beyond.  The ceiling curved overhead about fifteen feet up and was easily visible in the flickering light; however the walls to either side quickly curved away beyond the flickering light.  She wasn’t sure but Kestral thought she could just make out the far wall; she wasn’t betting on it though.  

Satisfied nothing was lurking in the air or on the nearby walls, Kestral next examined the turbulent water itself.  The clean scent of the water filling the air told her that it was from a pure source while the low roar told her that the source was pouring into the cavern from above the water line.  Given that the water level appeared to be stable there was obviously an exit for the water too.  Her careful examination of the water was rewarded when she finally saw the narrow rock path about an arms-length beneath the bubbling, swirling water.  

Ashimar came up beside her, his keen eyes peering into the darkness.  “Anything out there?”

“No, but there’s a path just below the water.” 

Ashimar raised an eyebrow and looked to where she was pointing.  He quickly spotted the narrow pathway.  “I don’t trust it.”  He stated flatly as Kellron and Jallarzi moved up behind them.

Kestral smiled sardonically.  “Who would?  There’s been a trap almost every step of the way.  The question is do we want to go forward?”

The four conferred shortly and eventually decided that it was worth going forward but that there was no way they were going to take the proferred path.

Kestral held up her left hand, showing the ring gifted to her by the Water King.  “I can get across at least.  

Kellron looked to Jallarzi.  “Do you have a spell of flying.”

Jallarzi shook her head.  “Not memorized.  Not even a levitate.”

Ashimar cocked an eyebrow in thought.  “Kestral.  Question.  Do you still have the boots of levitation?”

Kestral nodded.  “In my pack, in case they were required.  I thought the elven boots would be more appropriate down here.”

“How about I wear the boots, levitate up, and you can tow me across with the rope?  If there’s a good place to touch down at the other end I’ll take them off and you can bring them back for the next person.”

His three friends nodded at the clever idea and Kestral shrugged off her magical backback, rummaged through it pulled out the polished black leather boots.  Ashimar quickly put them on, so jaded with magic that he didn’t even marvel at their size-changing properties.  While he put the boots on Kestral pulled out a length of silk rope and quickly tied off a quick loop.

When Ashimar had both the boots and rope affixed he invoked the command word and willed himself to rise up a few feet over the floor.  Then, Kestral took the other end of the rope, leaving about ten feet of slack, and began to walk across the turbulent water.  She raised her amulet up in her other hand the better to see the rest of the cave.

She didn’t make it twenty feet before the turbulent water began to roil even faster and then exploded upward directly in front of her forming a wall of water; a living wall of water.  The courier, adventurer, and mortal representative of the Court of Water stood straighter at the sight of the elemental.  Kestral could feel the invisible power of the ocean’s tide ripple forth from her ring and knew the elemental recognized her authority.

Her authority, not Ashimar’s.  The living wave tried to sidle around the young woman, but she was just as quick and moved to block the creature’s path.  “You cannot.”  She told the creature in the gurgling aquan tongue, though above the water her accent was horrid. 

The wave ignored her and tried to sidle the other way around, unwilling to approach too close to her but bound by some hidden purpose.  Ashimar who was now over the water with nowhere to land willed himself a little higher and pulled his rapier.

Again, Kestral moved to block the creature’s path.  “No.  She told the elemental.  Kestral knew she could try and use the ring’s authority to force the elemental, but she was unsure how it would react.  “Who are you?”  She asked the creature.

The elemental made a sound very similar to the sound of the water in the small cave and Kestral nodded with understanding.  

She wasn’t going to be able to reproduce the name unless she stuck her head under the water.  “Nice to meet you.  She said politely.  “My name is Kestral and I’m here for the Water King.  Have you seen any of his sons around here?”

The elemental paused, still agitated.  Then it’s body dipped low and flattened in negation.  “No.”  It burbled. 

Kestral shrugged, expecting the answer.  “What are you doing here?”  She then asked.

“Bound to guard the cavern.  I must attack all who walk upon the path.”  Burbled the elemental.

Kestral took a moment to look around the cavern, then at her feet, and finally at the path a few feet to her left and under the water.  “I’m not on the path.”  She pointed out.  “And neither is he.”  She said indicating her levitating friend.

The elemental considered her words.  He could not attack her for she bore the mark of the Water King and her words were true.  The elemental was essentially a simple creature and could find no fault with the mortal’s logic.  The binder had specifically said all who walked upon the path.  Only the mortal was walking and she was exempted by the Water King.  The elemental spread itself low in a gesture of respect, satisfied that its oaths were not violated.  It then subsided into the water, disappearing from sight.

Kestral heaved a sigh of relief, mimicked by Ashimar floating above and behind her.  “That’s that.”  She said.  Then spying what looked to be the narrow mouth of a tunnel on the far side of the cavern, she hurried toward it with her friend in tow.  Nevertheless, Kestral made sure not to cross over the path.

The pair was disappointed though when they saw that the mouth of the tunnel ended in a rough, rock wall.  

“Wait a minute.”  Said Ashimar, carefully lowering himself to the water, trying to make sure he wasn’t over the hidden path.  “The path leads here and it has guardian.  Let’s look for a secret door.”

Kestral eyed the wall doubtfully.  The dark, nearly black, rock looked completely unworked and there didn’t appear to be any seam between it and surrounding rock.  Still she joined Ashimar in the search and both of them saw the same obvious clue immediately.  

They said it as one.  “The rock isn’t wet.”

Ashimar slapped at the rock forcibly and watched his hand pass right through it.  “I’m guessing we’re almost there.”  He said.  Carefully he stuck his head through the illusionary rock.  The path beyond was illuminated by Kestral’s flickering light.  “I think I see a door up ahead.”  Ashimar quickly stepped onto the path and took his borrowed boots off.

“I’ll get the others.”  Said Kestral as she took the proferred boots.  It was only the work of a few minutes to ferry Kellron and Jallarzi across.  Fortunately the elemental seem content to let matter stand as they were and didn’t bother them.

When they were all past the illusionary wall, Kestral and Ashimar made their way cautiously to the door at the far end; meticulously examining every rock and depression.  They sensed that they were close to something important and hoped it was the resting place of Imych Thassel’s harp.

The hallway itself was mercifully untrapped.  The heavy iron door though was inscribed with runes that spoke of menacing power.  Kestral grimaced and waved Ashimar and the others back while pulling out her tools.  

“****!”  Kestral said a very unladylike word as her tools slipped against the door.  There was a flash of poisonous green light from the runes and then the door gushed forth with acid, covering the trapspringer.  The acid was strong and caught Kestral straight in the chest, burning through her clothes straight to the flesh.  “****!  ****! ****!”

Kestral invoked the least power of her ring and began summoning water, drenching herself with it as Kellron moved up next to her and laid gentle hands onto her shoulders.  “Here you go.”  He told her as he channeled Sarath’s might into golden healing.

The water and the healing helped and Kestral shook herself and examined the door again.  She cursed again, certain that the trap had reset itself.  Snarling, she went back to disarming the trap again, and this time she succeeded.  She almost stood up before she realized that she hadn’t touched the lock.  Still snarling Kestral went to work on the wickedly comple lock.  The lock had been put in place by someone who understood good lock design, but Kestral’s patience and effort were eventually rewarded.  Grabbing the iron pull ring Kestral heaved the door open.  Beyond was another hallway, this time made of worked stone and lined with eight doorways; three on the left, one at the end, and four on the right.  The doors were made of iron and looked to have similar locks as the entry door.

--
_A dark cloaked man with his hood pulled low stood acroos the street from The Scabbard.  He had been watching the inn now for several hours.  The adventurers were staying here, but so far they had yet to show this evening.  He was starting to grow impatient but he disciplined himself to wait.  The adventurers had come back here every night without fail.  

Inside the inn were his most trusted henchmen and some highly paid assassins.  It would be difficult and this was certain to cause quite a stir amongst the Watch but it couldn’t be helped.  These adventurers were apparently willing to do almost anything and were disrupting both revenue and carefully laid plans.  Besides, a little fear was good for the populace.

That’s when the mental alarm began to pulse in the back of his head.  Three quick pulses accompanied by a flash of white light.  It was the alarm for the Vault being opened; but he knew where everyone who had Vault access was.  It didn’t take a genius to make a guess who entering.  First the warehouse, followed by the approaches to secure items into the ‘secret’ vault.  The adventurers had somehow found a trail and struck first.

Swearing, the man gestured to one of his men hiding nearby.  “Get the others.  Everyone has to get back to The Diamond now.”  
The man was confused but he knew to obey Father Dark’s orders.  He turned and ran into the inn while the one he knew as Father Dark dashed down the street to a waiting coach.  He had to get back fast.  _

--

“It looks like a vault to me.”  Said Kestral.  “Which door first?”

“Middle left?”  Suggest Jallarzi.

Kestral shrugged.  One was as good as another.  She moved into the room with a minimum of caution, only fairly certain that the hall wasn’t trapped.  Apparently she was right because nothing bad happened.  The choosen door also appeared to be untrapped and the lock was indeed similar to the entry door.  Her experience with the first lock helped here and it gave way with a minimum of effort.  

Beyond the door was a small room about fifteen feet square.  It was empty except for four large, ironbound wooden chests with heavy locks.  Kestral whistled tunelessly and approached the chests.  The locks were a little less complex then the door locks and she started to touch them when she caught a faint odor reminiscent of the color blue.  She caught herself at the odd though and wrinkled her nose.  Gas traps.

Sighing, she went to work on the chest trying to find a release trap or something.  She was getting tired of all the traps and the stupid locks.  Unfortunately her inattention cost her while trying to disable what she thought was part of the trap mechanism.  Instead she slipped and punctured a hidden bladder, releasing a purplish mist into the room.  Kestral began coughing on the blue-scented mist and her mind began to wander.  Fortunately she had the presence to stumble outside of the room and her friends closed the door behind her.  

She faced the wall and spoke.  “I’m feeling a little woozy.”  She explained.  Ashimar was already there with a scroll and begin speaking the words of a _lesser restoration_ spell.  Kestral immediately felt better.  “Thank you.”  She nodded towards the closed door.  “Insanity mist.  It should clear away soon.”

The group paused for a moment, and then Kestral decided to examine the other doors while they waited.  The next door down on the same side was spell trapped while the door at the far end was surrounded with hidden gas nozzles.  The far door on the right was unlocked and apparently untrapped and the vault beyond was empty.  Of the three remaining doors on the right side, only the one closest to the entry was trapped.  The first door on the left that she had ignored was also untrapped.  

Shrugging, Kestral began diabling the traps next.  Through a combination of luck and skill she managed to disable most of them without incident, though she took a nasty shock from one of the spell-trapped doors.  At last all the traps were disabled (or at least believed disabled) and the group began to enter the vaults one at a time.

The vault with the heavy chests contained coins; thousands of coins.  One chest for each denomination.  Kestral did the math and came up with a quick estimate.  “Thirty, maybe forty thousand pieces of copper.  Maybe fifteen thousand silver, and five thousand gold lions.”  She announced.  

The next vault on the left held a single stand upon which rested a dozen potions a single, amulet made of wood carved into an abstract shape.  Fortunately the stand wasn’t trapped.

The far vault held the gems which were divided by type and quality.  Again the group relied on Kestral’s estimate and they were impressed with her valuation of eight thousand gold pieces.

Two of the vaults on the right side were empty, but the electrified door held a variety of art objects, from paintings to vases, to a single intricately carved harp made of some light colored wood.  Everyone smiled in satisfaction at seeing it.

The first vault on the right, spell trapped with acid (which Kestral dodged this time), contained weapons.  These were not just ordinary weapons though; these were arms and armor stolen from the various noble families around Corlean.  None of the adventurers could identify he family crests stamped on the items within but they were all complex and looked important.  

The only oddity in the room was an unadorned shortsword made of some dull metal, chained and locked to a heavy metal stand.  It looked decidedly out of place.  Aware of the passing time, Ashimar picked up the entire stand and placed it in his enchanted bag.  They could look at later.  He wasn’t certain but he thought the metal of the sword and the chains might be adamantine.

That left the first vault which they had ignored the first time through.  The door was apparently untrapped but was locked.  Kestral bypassed the lock quickly enough and swung open the door.  The vault was similar to the others and the room was nearly empty except for a single pedestal in the middle of the room.  Atop the pedestal was a large, multi-faceted gem, similar to quartz or an impossibly huge diamond.  

Her friends were still in the weapon room; so shrugging, Kestral entered the room, strode up to the pedestal, and picked the gem up.  There was a soft popping sound from behind her.

“GROARR!”

Kestral didn’t even have time to turn before four large claws ripped into her, buffeting her this way and that.  Recovering she yelled with pain and drew her sword.  Before her stood an eight foot tall man-like beast with four arms.  The creature had dark reddish fur and an evil glint in soft-glowing red eyes. 

Kestral couldn’t name the thing, but Jallarzi shouted “It’s a fiendish Girallon!” as she came out of the weapon’s vault.  The fight was short, though Kestral was driven into unconsciousness by the creature’s next claw attacks.  Fortunately Ashimar and Kellron were there to fight the creature before it killed the badly wounded woman.  Within a few seconds the creature’s body was so badly wounded that the magics that summoned it discorporated leaving only Kestral’s body as proof that it had been there.

More healing was expended to get Kestral on her feet while the others filled the bags with what they could.  They understood that whatever they didn’t take on this trip would disappear before they could return.  They intended to deliver what items they could back to the city and their original owners.

Except the coins which were practically untraceable.  Kestral had estimated over fifty thousand copper and silver coins, which would weigh over a thousand pounds.  Their enchanted bags and backpacks were already near capacity with the other recovered items.  They were loath to leave the thieves any coinage however.  Fortunately Kestral had a solution.

“Bring the chests to the water.”  She told the men (there was no illusion on her part that she could actually move any of the chests).  Once the chests were at the tunnel’s edge she stuck her head into the water.  “This is all for the Water King.”  She shouted.  With that she and the men upended the chests containing the silver and copper coins into the water.


----------



## Seravin

*Please Collect Your Items Before Leaving*

_ A coach was parked perhaps eight feet away from the events happening at the Blue Diamond.  Standing next to the coach, near the driver and horse was a man whose features were concealed by a heavy cloak with the hood pull low.  Both the driver and the man watched the events for some few minutes trying to assess what exactly was going on.

The cloaked man known this evening as Father Dark swore softly at the swarm of watchmen and bystanders surrounding the entrance to The Blue Diamond.  It was all going wrong and he could not forsee how it would get better.  The best he could think of was to mitigate the damages.  Off the top of his head he couldn’t think of anything in the building that could be traced to him or the one he reported to but the man behind the mask of Father Dark wasn’t going to rely on that.

Concentrating briefly he invoked one of the powers of the black silk mask he wore and his face and form ripple then shifted to match his mental image of a rather non-descript city watchman.  “Wait here.”  He ordered the driver.  So saying, Father Dark then invoked the words of a_ dimension door _spell.  He stepped into the ripple of air and was gone.

A few minutes later the driver of the coach observed the flickering of fire through several of the windows of The Blue Diamond building.  It didn’t take long for the flames to turn into an inferno._

--

Their bags and packs were loaded, now all the four friends had to do was escape.  Perhaps anti-climatically, it was perhaps easier to escape then enter.  The rough, sloping tunnel that ran underneath the will o’wisp room to the metal lined room was narrow enough to force the adventurers to go through single-file. 

Ashimar was the first out of the rough tunnel and back into the will o’wisp room.  Kellron was still in the tunnel behind him, but given the steepness of the sloping tunnel the paladin was going to need several more seconds before he could climb the short ladder.

The delay nearly cost Ashimar his life.  After a quick scan of the room, Ashimar was barely out of the hatch when he heard what sounded like a few footsteps and then the familiar _swish_ of a rapier.  Ashimar was flat footed as an invisible rapier stabbed through the links of chain shirt.  

The fight was on, but afterwards neither Ashimar nor Kellron spoke much of it.  Neither man was inclined to brag and to be honest there wasn’t much to brag about.  Knowing that this was only way out, Father Dark had waited for them to appear out of the trap door one at a time.  The head of the thieves was prepared with several spells, including _bull’s strength, cat’s grace, haste, and improved invisibility._ 

Ashimar was able to just hold his own against the invisible opponent for several seconds but he almost certainly would have lost.  With Kellron’s help though, the outcome of the battle became less certain.  When Father Dark’s _improved invisibility _ eventually expired the tide shifted entirely into the favor of the Sarathian warriors.

Father Dark was forced to flee the pair as Kestral stuck her head out of the trap door.  Before leaving he passed on two threats.   Looking to Kellron first, “We know where you live and the inn you own.  Expect retribution.”  Then looking at Ashimar.  “We know where your family is.  Don’t expect them to live long.”  With that Father Dark invoked another _dimension door_ and disappeared.

Kellron and Ashimar shared looks with each other as they helped Kestral and then Jallarzi out of the tunnel.

“I can expect another attack on the inn, I guess.”  Said Kellron.  “Any idea what he was saying about your family?”

Ashimar shook his head, obviously confused.  “Not a clue.  I don’t even know who they are.  I’m guessing he was just bluffing.  I hope he was bluffing.”

--

_Having no desire to fight their way up through the basements, the friends decided to utilize the secret doors in this storeroom to leave the underground complex.  As they guessed, the secret passagesways do lead to small sewer passages which in turn lead to the surface a short ways away from the tavern.  The flickering light of a fire starting to blaze out of control greets them when they make it to the surface.  

Kellron and Ashimar quickly shucked their packs and dropped them next to Jallarzi.  The two men then quickly went to help the bucket brigade.  Using her elven cloak and boots, Kestral drifted around the burning building and used her ring of water elemental command to summon as much water as she could onto the fires.  With her help the fire was quickly brought under control and soon put out.

The building is a total loss and deemed unsafe to enter.  Lieutenant Brand’s superiors take a keen interest in the lower basements and the secret sewer entrances reported by the adventurers and promise to investigate.  Sadly, there is not enough evidence to trace who the leaders are.  The party is able to suppose that Grandal Deverex is Father Dark, but they have nothing to prove it.  Given that Ker Deverex is considered an upstanding member of the community and vouchsafed by a prominent businessman, that line of investigation is dropped pending further proof.

For their part, the adventuring companions are kept busy.  Jallarzi eventually capitulates and agrees to create a wand for the Library in order to earn her journey-mage status.  Meanwhile, Ashimar, Kellron, and Kestral keep their organization informed of what they found and turn over all the items recovered from the secured vault.  Needless to say the respective owners are pleased.  The money and the gems and potions are virtually untraceable and so by order of Duke Hilmaron the party is allowed to keep these (minus a small tax).  

Oddly, the adamantine shortsword turns out to be untraceable too.  Though finely made it only bears a single distinguishing mark, that of the elven word ‘Thereval’; meaning ‘Mine’ in a strongly personal way.  The shortsword also bears a strong aura of transmutation magic, though Jallarzi was only able to identify a moderate magical strength (+2).  

Further experimentation of the blade reveals that when wielded in mock combat the bearer found himself unwilling to strike at his or her friends, deciding at the start of the combat to not go through with the fight in case they hurt their friends.  This affects everyone except Jallarzi who was able to ignore the compulsion.  Shrugging, Kestral decides that she’s willing to wield the blade until they can find out more about it.

Finally, Panther decides to leave his companions and their adventures in the underdark.  Having Imych Thassel's harp in his possession brings him to the attention of the bardic college of Keria where Imych himself had trained.  Possession of the harp and his own skills are enough to earn him a place at the college._


----------



## Seravin

That was the last post for the next couple weeks.  I'm going away on vacation and I've got no clue what kind of internet access I'll have.

For those interested, Father Dark as of this write up was a Div9/Rog3 (maybe Rog4 for the HP and skills).  Spells were used to buff himself up for and to flee - he was pretty sub-optimal for his level, but he made an appropriate challenge for the characters.

Unfortunately there were a couple things working against me during the two sessions it took to explore the Blue Diamond.  
First the party hit the inn at least a full session earlier then I had expected and while I knew which map I was going to use and the level of resistance I wanted to set, I didn't have everything statted.  
Second, I hadn't looked as closely at the map as I should have - If a person finds the one secret door that leads to the hidden hallway on the first floor, they have a complete non-secret path all the way to the fourth basement, with only a single trapdoor hiding the path to the vault.
Finally, I had planned for the party to be assaulted by the assassins that game night.  An act of desperation on their part which could have provided clues and possible evidence.  Instead the party gets the jump on them and all the big guns are detailed elsewhere.

Later, I decided the bad guys would lie low after the incident at the tavern.

For their part, the group didn't seem interested in pursuing the theives guild at all.  They only wanted the harp and any extra loot.  After that they just wanted to get back to the underdark.  

Sadly this would end up killing two of them and provide a method of revenge for Father Dark.  I was pretty proud when Kellron handed over 75,000gp to the thieve's guild.


----------



## Seravin

Apologies for not updating for the last two months.  I've been busy, but I really don't have a good excuse for not writing.  Not knowing where to take it up again is a poor excuse.    
I'll try and have one done by this weekend.

-seravin


----------



## RedShirtNo5

Seravin said:
			
		

> Apologies for not updating for the last two months. I've been busy, but I really don't have a good excuse for not writing. Not knowing where to take it up again is a poor excuse.
> I'll try and have one done by this weekend.
> 
> -seravin




No worries, story hours happen when they happen. But please do post; I'm drawing alot of inspiration from your SH.

My group just completed a heavily modified Book 1. They wound up doing the mines first. They didn't have the keys, but managed to bluff their way into the orc lair for a big fight. That was followed by some add-libbed underdark adventures unrelated to Book 2, then back up to the surface to fight Ramor and the death dogs, and finally the fight with Shilek in Broken Spire. 

I'm looking forward to starting the underdark portion in earnest. I'll probably cut out 75% of the trolls and replace it with a variety of other more unusual encounters. 

-RedShirt


----------



## Seravin

RedShirtNo5 said:
			
		

> No worries, story hours happen when they happen. But please do post; I'm drawing alot of inspiration from your SH.
> 
> My group just completed a heavily modified Book 1. They wound up doing the mines first. They didn't have the keys, but managed to bluff their way into the orc lair for a big fight. That was followed by some add-libbed underdark adventures unrelated to Book 2, then back up to the surface to fight Ramor and the death dogs, and finally the fight with Shilek in Broken Spire.
> 
> I'm looking forward to starting the underdark portion in earnest. I'll probably cut out 75% of the trolls and replace it with a variety of other more unusual encounters.
> 
> -RedShirt



They do indeed.  Speaking of which, the very next post.
Good luck with the second book.  Ditching most of the trolls is probably a good idea.


----------



## Seravin

*Bits and Pieces.*

_ Of general interest to some sages learned in history, it is now the year 19972 as measured from the time of Founding, the time when the gods crafted the laws of the world into her bones.  The dwarves measure it as the year 14972 as measured from the building of Kerwin-Lor, their first city; and the elves interpret the time as around 13000 as remembered (and interpreted) by the first treant whose name is too long to record here. 

The Shtaran Empire generally uses the Founding Calendar, however most events that transpire within the Empire are matched against the then current Emperor’s year of reign.  For example, the assault on the thief halls underneath the Blue Diamond in Corlean happened in the thirty-second year of the Emporer Jaz’aldrin.  Each year is divided into twelve months of thirty days each; and every three months there is a festival day named after the season (Winter Festival, Spring Festival, etc).  Festival days occur ten days after the equinox or solstice and are heralded with both moons being full at the same time for a period of three days.

It is not unheard of for the the three months between each Festival Day to be referred to as a Greath Month (but this is not universal), and generally each month is divided into three weeks, each being ten days long.  

Thus in her weekly report, Watch-Herald Ladea had the following entry:
-
The 32nd year of Emporer Jaz’aldrin
10th Month, 3rd Week, 5th day – Herald Kestral and her allies planned and orchestrated a raid on the Blue Diamond with the help of the City Watch.  During the raid, Herald Kestral recovered a number of valuable items, including a complete set of Imperial coin dies.  See the attached list for a complete set of details.
-_

...

On the first day of the eleventh month in the current year, four adventurers left the city of Corlean, journeying back to Broken Spire keep.  Trailing them were over thirty men and women wearing the garb of Sarathian soldiers.  An observer educated in heraldry would have noted that their pennent indicated they were members of the Order of the Victorious Dragon.  This would have been no surprise as that Order’s home city was Corlean.

It just so happens that on this cold and cloudy day there was just such an educated observer.  The watcher stared after the retreating backs for some few moments, pulled her furred lined cloak tighter about herself and hurried to a coach parked not far away.  The coachman jumped down at her approach and opened the door for her.  No words were exchanged and the driver quietly clambered into his seat and directed his horse homeward.

---

Some hours later after the quiet leaving of the soldiers, a meeting was held in a warm, well-lit, and expensively appointed manor located in a neighborhood filled with influential people.  The heroes of the day would have recognized one of the men as Grandal Deverex, manager of Gaming House and the person they suspected of being Father Dark.  Kestral would have recognized the other gentleman from the description she had gathered earlier, Quereth Holtson. On this day, Ker Holtson’s knowledge and involvement in the Father Dark affair is unknown and not really thought about, with the focus of all investigations implicating only Ker Deverex.  In the months to come this would cause some heartache.

Quereth Holtson is an older gentleman in his fourth decade, though his trim good looks allow him to pass for a distinquished thirty-year old.  His short, black hair has gone to gray at the temples but his black eyes are still sharp and alert.  His power and striking manner allow him his choice of lovers; which rumor has that he is quick to avail himself of.  All told Quereth has the reputation of a rich-fop looking to buy or marry himself into some sort of title, whose success should really be attributed to his manager, Grandal Deverex.    Needless to say, the rumors are deliberately fostered and completely miss the mark.

In truth, Quereth Holtson and Grandal Deverx share the title of Father Dark, a fact known to perhaps four other people at the time of this meeting.  The dual identity of Father Dark and the disguising magic of the hoods (for Grandal had created at least three of them) allowed the men to create alibi’s for each other as needed.  In the past week Grandal Deverex was seen by many people in many public locations while Father Dark was rumored to be angrily rebuking the survivors of the Blue Diamond raid.

The men were meeting in Quereth’s home located in the south-west ward of the city, not too far from The Duke’s Road.  The room was Quereth’s private office and the meeting room bore heavy wards against divinations.   Quereth sat behind his desk as he usually did at these meetings while Grandal lounged comfortably in an overstuffed leather char.  Unlike most of their meetings, their was an almost imperceptible air of tension between the two men.

After the pleasantries and the discussion of the more legitimate business, Quereth finally got to the matters weighing most heavily on mind.  “What of the…”

Grandal cocked his head and let out a small huff; it was about to begin.  “Interlopers?”  He offered?

”I was thinking of a stronger word, but that will do.”

“They left this morning.  My watcher saw them leave with 30 soldiers bearing the livery of the church of Sarath.”

Quereth paused in thought.  “That might be the best thing about this entire debacle.”

“How so?”

“I plan on taking up the offer I told you about earlier.  The fewer soldiers in the city the better.”

Grandal frowned, not hiding his emotions at all.  “Are you sure that’s wise?  I don’t think…”

Quereth almost sneered as he cut Grandal off.  “You also thought you could handle these interlopers.”  Grandal sat up straighter at the accusation and started to defend himself, but Quereth forged on, not allowing any interruption.  “I just finished the accountings today.  We lost a third of the business.  A third!”

Quereth made an inarticulate noise, almost a growl.  “The entire vault looted, including the sword, the gems, jewelry, and coins; as well as the property loss and the suspicion of the authorities. “

Quereth stood up and started to pace behind his desk.  Grandal merely sat up, looking somewhat stricken at the tone of his childhood friend and ally.  “And for what?  Revenge against a minstrel that bedded your daughter?  A botched bandit attempt?  How about hiring one of these interlopers?  Is that a good enough reason to lose a third of the business?  Was it worth the attention?”

Quereth stopped pacing and focused his glare on Grandal.  “You’re not normally this incompetent; we both know I would have killed you if you were.  I know you have contacts outside of this city?  Was this for one of them?  Is this a setup?”

The room was very quiet and Grandal counted to ten as he unclenched his jaw.  Quereth was a proud man and easy-going when things were going good.  When things were bad, then the wealthy man was like this.  This was perhaps the first time two decades that Quereth’s anger was directed at him.  “No.”  Answered Grandal.  “This isn’t a setup and it has nothing to do with my interests outside the city.  This was a mistake.  A series of mistakes I admit and it hurt us.  It won’t happen again from me.  It doesn’t change that I think this new offer is also a mistake.”

Quereth took a deep breath and visibly made an effort to loosen his shoulder.  He then sat down.  “That’s your opinion and even if it’s right, this opportunity offers everything for low risk.  It turns attention away from us, gives us an ally in the nobility, and helps recoup the loss we…you just incurred.  If we’re lucky they may be willing to take care of these Sarathian mercenaries the next time they’re in town.”  Quereth caught Grandal’s eye.  “This isn’t up for discussion anymore.  I’ve made my decision.  I’d rather here about these Sarathians now and what we’re going to do about them.”

Grandal paused and then nodded curtly.  The offer was way too good and the danger was far worse than what he had just courted, but Quereth obviously wasn’t willing to listen just yet; maybe later.  “Very well.  Let me know what you want me to do then.  As for the Sarathians, I don’t think they are.  Not really.  He opened up a leather folder that was in his lap and took out several pieces of paper, each containing a very good charcoal likeness of the new heroes of Corlean.  He spread them out and pointed to each in turn as he spoke.

“This first one is Panther.  Like myself, he’s half-elven and according to the people on the street, one of the best harpist and singers in the city.  We don’t know much about him other than that he showed up a few months ago, left for awhile and came back with this group.  He’s competent, but he appears to be a non-threat right now.  I’m told he accepted tuition to Bardic College on Keria.  I have sent inquries to the island to confirm.  We should know in a few weeks.”

“This woman is Jallarzi.  Like Panther she’s half-elven.  The likeness doesn’t show it but her hair is white and eyes are violet.  She crafted her journey-project earlier this week for The Library and is now officially a journey-mage.  She’s opinionated and strong-willed.  I’m told she was forced into turning in her journey-project after she created her second _fireball_ wand this month.”  Grandal’s mouth quirked with amusement.  “She crafted a simple _detect magic_ wand for the Library, the bare minimum accepted.”

“She’s young and hotheaded, fairly easy to manipulate; but give her a target and she’ll blast it away until it’s destroyed.  The local apprentices are in awe of her progress.  She joined as an apprentice only a few months ago and now she has her badge.”

Here is “Squire Ashimar, assigned to Field-Captain Kellron.  The folks who have talked to him say he can talk the local talk indicating he has a bit of a past.  He apparently got a bad case of religion while with this group and is now committed to the Church of Sarath, though there is some sort of bad blood between him and Colonel Megara.  I think it has to do with their actions against us, but no one knows the reason why he was called to task a week ago.  He’s a skilled fencer and he apparently has the eyes of a hawk; but he’s morally flexible which could be useful.  I’m also pursuing some magical inquries against him as the Blasingdale stories indicate that he had an interesting brush with darkness.

“This last person is Field-Captain Kellron.  He was just assigned a platoon of men.  Their orders are to help secure the Field-Captain’s inn in Thurmaster; and should he gain ownership of Broken Spire Keep they will base themselves there.  He is every inch the soldier of Sarath and apparently over two-hundred years old.  The stories around the barracks is that he was held in some sort of stasis caused by a magical disaster about the time Deverat was lost.  Further, the new leader of his men is a Latinan-trained witch.  The Field-Captain is competent, disciplined, and committed with well-trained people following him.  Fortunately he’s on a quest to investigate the disappearance of wizards in the Thurmaster area.

Quereth looked at the fifth piece of paper, which Grandal had obviously decided to put in a category of its own.  Unlike the others, there were numerous pictures of both men and women, including a child.  “This is Kestral, then?

“Yes.  No.  Maybe.  These people were around the others at various times.  This girl in the corner is Beth.  This man is Marik Lorland, who was still in the city today I might add.  This is Lieutenant Brand.  This is reportedly a woman caught pick-pocketing in the temple of Sarath a month ago but who was never charged.  Take your pick.  Kestral could be any or all of them.  I can’t scry any of them except Marik and Brand though.  This woman is obviously the most dangerous.  She makes an effort to not appear with the others very often.  She just might very well be the brains of the group.  I’m going to continue scrying and I’ll try and ask in the various Courts.  Maybe something will come up.”

Quereth frowned.  “Do it, I want to know everything we can about all of them.  I also want this Brand and Marik fellows put away for good.  This Beth has a sister?”

“So she claimed.  I followed up and the young girl was just adopted by a couple.  Her name is Erica and she not-so very convincingly claims that she has an older sister named Beth.  Notably, her father is Panther, this gentleman over here, and her new mother is a Herald.

“I’m afraid Erica will be a two-time orphan.  We’ll find a more suitable set of parents for this young Erica; but keep an eye on her in case she turns out to be this Kestral.”

Grandal nodded.  He had already anticipated the orders and had people in place.  He just needed confirmation.  “I’ve also placed watchers in Milbourne and Thurmaster.  They’ll send word if and when Kellron and his crew show up again.”

“Good.  I’ll leave the other details to you.  Now, as for other business, we’re going to need a listing of all spellcasters that we know of in Corlean…”

And so business continued in Corlean.


----------



## Seravin

*I Have Met The Enemy and It Is Ugly*

Imagine if you will, a translucent crystal as thick as a small woman’s pinky and almost as wide.  It is cut so that there are six long faces which come to a point on either end.  The cloudy looking crystal might be quartz or might not, only a knowledgeable expert could tell.  The pale crystal is wrapped with a thin silver wire and hangs next to similar looking crystals from a leather thong.  

Such a necklace of crystals could be a memory necklace, crafted by a witch to contain selected memories, thoughts, and emotions.  Such items are often used by witches and they are identified by their slight glow when a witch makes the effort to contact the crystals.  The contact makes the various crystals glow with an inner light; the color and brightness of the glow show the type and strength of emotions recorded therein.

The church inquisitor, Tore Daergan, brought just such a necklace with her as a personal journal and diary.  Dedicated to her job, Tore knew that her impressions had to survive her journey, even if she didn’t.  Tore’s memory necklace eventually made its way back to her homeland, and the following are selected thoughts recorded therein.

_Holding the necklace and mind touching Tore’s necklace immediately summons forth Tore’s idealized self image; that of a trim young woman with honey-blonde hair and dark blue eyes.  The features are narrow and set in a hard, grim look.  She is dressed in soldier-brown tunic and leggings with a bright-silver chain shirt.  In one hand she holds a plain looking bastard sword.  The person who looks upon the warrior-woman gains the sense that the image is evaluating him or her.  Tore’s image eventually fades away and is replaced by another._

_The next image is from the perspective of a person glancing backwards, perhaps from a horse, looking at the imposing gray walls of Corlean, framed by the high cliff walls that protect the city.  The sky is mostly clear with only a handful of fluffy clouds, letting the sun splash bright rays across the gleaming snow.  The sound of a long sigh and the image of a puff of cold breath fill the mind, and then the viewer turns southward into the bright sun.  Tore’s voice, a strong soprano with carefully spoken words fills the mind as the feeling of the horse’s motion begins to overtake the senses._

“It has been less than a week since we left Corlean.  I am not one for normally keeping journals, but given the encounter this evening I feel I must; for it has become apparent that the nightmares are real and death is all to close.”

_An image of a keep with strong, snow-covered walls appears.  Two men in brown and green livery stand outside the gates on guard duty, standing close to a smoking barrel.  A touch of pity mixed with relief is quickly apparent._

“The weather was fair and we made good time on the first leg of our journey.  We reached Parlfray Keep on the first evening of the month (November).  The good Count was expecting us from a previous letter that Field Captain Kellron had sent and met us with curtesy and grace.  The Field Captain was quite pleased with his discussions with the Count and negotiated a perpetual lease of Broken Spire Keep for as long as he holds and protects the keep and the surrounding lands.”

_There’s a brief image of a vast hall with vaulted ceilings, strong wooden furniture and lazy dogs.  The image is gone before more details register and is replaced by a view of the gates of a dilapidated wooden stockade.  The gates are opened by a pinch-faced old man wearing a heavy cloak and thick, black mittens.  The gateman looks fearfully at the men and women as he lets them pass through.  Beyond the gates lies a small village.  The snow lying in the street is well trod and covered with soot, ashes, and other detritus.  A faint feeling of disgust fills the mind._

“We stayed the night at Parlfray Keep and journied onward to Thurmaster the next morning.  Thurmaster is a…not an especially nice place.  Kestral explained that the village was victimized not so many years ago and has never really recovered.  Most surprisingly the Field Captain has apparently purchased the local inn, the Fox and Hound.  The inn still bears the scars of a recent attack but is under repair.  The Field Captain was obviously not pleased at the pace of the repairs, but understood that some things took time during the winter months.  I will be happy to forget the village.”

_The living area of a farmhouse is seen next.  The walls and ceiling are of some dark wood; but the room itself doesn't seem dark.  Cheerful flames dance in the fireplace and someone has created many brightly colored wallhangings and throw rugs.  There’s a feeling of comfort and home._

“We stayed the evening at the ranch of Kupier, a retired Imperial Scout.  He and his wife are good people and graciously took us in and allowed the Field Captain’s followers to stay on their land.  I found out later that evening that Kupier was the one to lead the Field Captain and his allies to Broken Spire the first time.”

_The next scene is gray and flickering, consisting of snow covered houses against a gray sky.  Tore obviously didn’t see much and didn’t think much of the little town._

“The next day of travel brought us to Milbourne and the village of Harlaton, a sleepy little farming village.  The locals were curious at our arrival and the men and women that the Field Captain had brought with him.  They seemed generally pleased however, no doubt thinking of the extra income that the renovation of Broken Spire Keep will require.  The soldiers will need to eat and will require extra help in getting things in order. “

_Instead of a scene, there is immediate feeling of dread.  The feeling is quickly mastered, but as the tall stone walls of Broken Spire Keep begin to take shape, the feeling lies like an undercurrent.  Standing amidst untouched snow lies the dilapidated keep of the Parlfray family.  Only as the shattered tower comes into focus does the viewer realize that the keep didn’t die quietly.  The image shifts quickly and the interior of the keep is seen from the viewpoint of the gate.  The fresh snow lends an air of innocence at odds with the associated feelings._

“I saw Broken Spire Keep for the first time late on the fourth day of travel from Corlean.  As warned, an aura of menance seemed to hang over the building and journey-mage Jallarzi shared a dream that she had dreamt while sleeping here the first ime.  Something awful has occurred within the walls of the keep, and I hope whatever it was stays sleeping.”

“The Field Captain and Squire Ashimar spend the night touring the keep with the soldiers and making plans for renovations.  Basic repairs will have to happen, but substantial renovations will not occur until spring.  There is much work to be done.”

_Again, instead of an image there is a feeling, this time of a crushing weight and the need to hyper-ventilate.  The sense of rapid breathing slows to long even breaths though and eyes open to view cavernous walls of some light brown stone lit by a flickering orange radiance.  The source of the lights is not seen as they are behind the viewer’s eyes; what becomes apparent however is that this is a tunnel deep below the earth.  The walls, ceiling, and floor look like some ragged tube carved out by years of flowing liquid, or more disturbingly some monstrous worm._

“It was yesterday that I descended for the first time into the depths of the earth.  While I have some time in basements and cellars, I have never so much as entered a cave or a mine before.  It is a disturbing feeling, having the weight of the earth crushing above you.  

Our goal is the city of the svirfneblin to ask their priestess, Carmeneren, the way to those who have been kidnapped.  She has mentioned the illithid to the Field Captain and his allies; or in truth, his friends.  I prayed she was wrong and prepared as if she was right.  She was right, but my preparations were for naught.”  

_The image changes then, showing many different portions of the tunnels and giving the impression of movement.  The flickering images cease, showing the five of them standing in front of two giant bronze doors.  The doors are open, revealing the beginnings of a grand cavern shadowed in darkness beyond.  

Kellron and Ashimar are leading in front; Kellron’s enchanted amulet providing a flickering light matching the flames of his enchanted sword.  White-haired Jallarzi, crystal topped staff in hand is next.  Tore’s viewpoint shows that she’s in the rear with Kestral to her left.  All of them have their weapons out, but they are held casually for the moment.  The four of them are standing before the great bronze portals of the orc lair.  The doors are wide open._

“The journey to this point went well, mostly uneventful really; but Jallarzi was forced to slay several crawling oozes.  Kestral said that they had left the great doors open to invite the oozes in to dispose of the evidence in case anything came back.  Kellron and Ashimar had already told me of the ooze’s metal eating properties.”

_Another image forms, that of the travelers crossing the threshold of the doors and moving cautiously into the cavern, scanning the ceiling for anything hiding.  Then there’s a sound from up ahead and all of them look towards it.  A cloaked and hunched figure moves closer into the shadowy area just beyond Kellron’s light.  Light shines faintly on armor and a drawn sword.  In the shadows it is brutish and ugly looking.

The creature grunts an unintelligible string of syllables.  Kestral answers.  “It wants to know who we are.”  She answers with an equally unintelligible string and they go back and forth for a minute or two and then Kestral begins speaking the imperial tongue again.  

“He wanted to know what happened to the orcs that were here and said there were many oozes when they arrived.  He, one other guard, and his leader are all that survived.  He wants us to talk with them.”

Kellron speaks, and a perceptive person would notice how much sharper the image and sound becomes.  “Okay, but warn him no tricks.”

Kestral nodds and barks out more of the harsh-sounding language.  The creature nods and waves for the five people to follow him.  

The image shifts as the five of them follow the orc through the massive cavern.  The ceiling cannot be made out, though occasionally the tip of a stalactite can be seen piercing the shadows.  It is apparent that everyone is wary, expecting a trap.  

At the back of the cavern is a wide opeing in the rock leading to another cavern.  The orc calls out just before he reaches the cave mouth.  Kestral translate.  “He says it’s okay, he brings talkers.”

Then in the shadows at the edge of their lights, three figures appear, walking up to the leading orc that had stayed at the edge of the illumination.  One is immediately apparent as another orc, hulking and brutish, carrying a large sword and wearing battered, much-used armor.  The other two are different, standing a little taller and having a narrow frame.  They are wearing hooded, tattered, brown robes, showing nothing in the way of their features, even their hands are buried deep in the sleeves of their robes. 

The image of the cavern and shadow figures disappears and is replaced by despair as nausea fills the mind._

While the emotions crash over the mind, Tore’s voice becomes hard.  “Get use to that feeling.  The two creatures in cloaks and shadow were illithid and that is doubtless how they will appear in the future, hidden until it is too late.”

“My defenses were only casually ready, and completely useless; I was immediately stunned into helplessness as was Kestral.  Fortunately the Field Captain and Ashimar had spread out a bit before the attack and managed to avoid the worst of the blast and I can only assume that Jallarzi’s magics allowed her to weather the blast likewise.

The battle seemed to take forever as I fought to regain control of my senses and myself.  Jallarzi used her staff to rain down hail and ice, killing the two orc guards immediately, but only harming one of the illithid.”

_The nausea is suddenly gone and several images appear.  
A beautiful half-elven woman with violet eyes lifting up a white staff tipped with crystal.  It flares for a moment, and a blizzard covers the four standing creatures, only the two robed figures walk out.  
Kellron and Ashimar break to either side, each trying to engage one of the robed creaturs.  The two warriors look worried but press forward.  Both of the men reach their choosen target and begin to swing, each hitting their target.

The melee causes the creatures to throw back their hoods, revealing a gut-churning, horrific sight; purple, hairless flesh framing two large yellow-ish eyes devoid of pupils.  Instead of a mouth there are four, thick, writhing tentacles, each two feet long.

The air roils with palpable force as the creatures step back and raise long, thin, purplish fingers to ward the attacks.  Jallarzi invokes a hastening spell and lashes out with a flight of four silvery missiles.  The missiles dissipate harmlessly against the one Ashimar is fighting, fortunately neither Kellron nor Ashimar are affected by the stunning wave and advance. 

By chance, Kellron has choosen the wounded illithid and his next pair of swings hit the creature as he calls out for Sarath.  The creature goes down.  Ashimar has less luck, and his swing misses.

There’s another roil of force and nausea and Kellron stops in his tracks, dropping his weapon (accompanied by a flash of despair).  Ashimar and Jallarzi are still fighting however, but again Jallarzi’s magic missiles are completely useless; Ashimar manages a telling blow though and it is obvious that the creature is badly wounded.

The thing steps back though and the air shimmers again, and this time Ashimar staggers to a stop and drops his weapon (the despair worsens).  Only Jallarzi is left and she is looking scared as her third set of missiles wash over the creature and her acid arrow completely misses.

The thing, the illithid, approaches and the air is heavy with its satisfaction.  It concentrates again, focusing all of its attention on Jallarzi, and tries to stun her.  Miraulously she staves off the mental burst and sets herself for an attack.

The illithid finally reaches her, its four purple tentacles writhing obscenely in the air.  Again it tries to stun her and again it fails.

Desperately, Jallarzi swings with her crystal topped staff, and misses.

Frustrated, the thing again fills the air with a mental attack and Jallarzi once again works past it.  Her wild swing connects this time, right upside the thing’s head.  There is a wet, fleshy thud and the thing is forced to take a step back.  It touches a hand to its head and looks at the greenish ichor covering its fingers.

Neither Jallarzi nor the illithid apepar to wish to flee._

“It is here that I realized that the creature wanted to capture young Jallarzi, undoubtedly to add to its collection of kidnapped spellcasters.  In the end it is only this that saved us.”

_There is a skip in the imagery and Jallarzi and the illthid have shifted slightly from where they were.  The tinge of the after-effects of a mental blast fill the air and Jallarzi swings her staff with two hands and a yell of desperation.  

It is a good, solid blow that catches the creature in nearly the same spot as the wizard's last hit.  It is not just a fleshy thud that fills the cavern, but the sound of shattering bone.  The illithid is knocked to the ground and does not get back up._

Jallarzi saved us all that day.  No doubt the creature would have killed Kellron, Ashimar, and Kestral; taking Jallarzi and myself captive for whatever fell purpose drove it.  Hopefully we’ll find out, but not this evening.”


----------



## Seravin

Well.  That post had a greater than usual number of spelling and grammatical errors.  

Fortunately AsEver let me know about them.  Apologies to everyone who read the post immediately.  I think I fixed the most egregious ones.


----------



## Seravin

*Knowledge (Underdark)*

In an ancient elven dialect mostly since fallen out of use, the ways beneath the earth are sometimes called the Night Below.  It should be said that the title is only used by those with a poetic frame of mind; and most people who think of or talk of the places beneath use the term ‘the Underdark’. 

Most of the knowledge of the Underdark comes from the dwarves, a notably taciturn and single-minded race.  Thus it is no surprise that the knowledge most widely known about the Underdark deals with the areas around the dwarf mines and the caverns relatively close by.  The dwarves call the area within about one-half mile of the surface the Upperdark.  Only rarely do the dwarves speak of the regions called the Middledark, and only as a warning to those foolish enough to go exploring beyond the known caverns.  The Lowerdark is never spoken of to strangers so as to avoid ill-luck.

--

Until recently knowledge of the Upperdark beneath Haranshire was but little known to any citizen of the Empire.  A dwarf called Old Grizzler by his neighbors in Milbourne was perhaps the most knowledge person of the local tunnels, but even then his knowledge was limited mostly to the mines.  Others who knew more, such as bandits, were less inclined to share their knowledge with others.

It wasn’t until an expedition by agents of the Library and the Temple of Sarath returned that any useful knowledge of the tunnels beyond the mines was gathered.  Little geological knowledge was garnered, but that wasn’t the focus of the expedition.  The explorers were looking for a near mythical race of creatures.  What they found were many mythical creatures.  

Of the non-intelligent beasts roaming near the surface, most are innocuous and non-threatening; however the dangerous ones include gelatinous cubes, gray oozes, and a variety of giant beetles.  Generally these creatures are content looking for food and are not deemed a substantial threat to the surface communities of Haranshire.  It should be said that the Library does note that the sheer number of oozes and slimes is unusual and suggest there may be some unknown source to them; troubling if true.

The race calling themselves the svirfneblin are as reclusive as they are intelligent; and they are the least likely of all creatures to be encountered.  They are not deemed a threat; indeed any contact with them should be considered a trading opportunity – presuming they are treated with respect of course.

The races of the beast-men are another story.  These creatures are intelligent, aggressive, and capable of raiding the surface lands if they were to find an easy access point.  These beast-men include:

Orcs in unknown numbers, apparently servitors to darker races below.  The markings of the Blookskull tribe have been distributed to all soldiers in the Duchy of Larence.  Any orc bearing these markings is immediately considered hostile.

Of a lesser threat are the goblin-kin known to be roaming the lands north and under Milbourne.  A small tribe is currently living peacefully not too far from Milbourne, under the watchful eye of an Imperial Scout.  Still, they are not fully trusted as of yet.

The bear-men, called Quaggoths by the dwarves, appear only in small numbers in the Upperdark, apparently hunters for tribes that live deeper below.  They are aggressive and cunning, but not overly bright.  Their lack of numbers in the Upperdark and the scarcity and remoteness of exiting caverns explains why they've never been seen before.

Of all the creatures in the Upperdark though, the giant-kin concerns the Empire most of all.  A large tribe of trolls living perhaps fifteen miles from the mines of Milbourne was wiped out during the first expedition.  Worse, cave-giants* and their lesser kin, ogres are also known to wander the passageways of the Upperdark underneath Haranshire.  Physically powerfull, all encounters with the giant-kin have shown that they are both intelligent and aggressive.  If they were to come under the sway of the illithids, a real threat would emerge.  The social organization and encampments of the giant-kin, if any, are currently unknown.

The expedition that brought back this information encountered other creatures, but the ones listed above were the creatures most often encountered.  Even the relatively benign Upperdark is dangerous


--
*Cave giants became my catch-all term for any giant found under the earth, as giants are virtually unknown to the Empire at large anyway.


----------



## Capellan

Out of curiousity, what level were the PCs at this stage of the campaign?

And more importantly (adopts sing song voice) "Kellron's got a girlfriend."


----------



## Seravin

Well, Kellron doesn't have a girlfriend yet, but give him a little bit of time.

As for level, they were right around 8th level or so.  They had hit 6th with the trolls, and they leveled again in Corlean.  I remember that Jallarzi was getting close to 9th level when they hit the next big encounter.


----------



## Seravin

*It’s The Choices That We Make*

_When the surface adventurers met again with Carmeneren and her people they brought many gifts, including strange textured cloths, fungus-like foods called fruits as well as ground fungus-like seasonings.  The unexpected gifts were received with surprise and pleasure by the svirfneblin.  Though troubling, the adventurer’s stories of meeting and killing two illithid (surreptitiously confirmed by spells) were also well received and confirmed the svirfneblin’s burgeoning good opinion of these strange surface-folk.  

In return the adventurers were given a save haven, a fine meal, and the choice of three different routes to continue their journies through the Upperdark. _

After the next sleep Carmeneren and a small retinue of svirfneblin scouts escorted the surface-folk a day’s journey to the crossroads of a pair of tunnels; each wide enough to serve as the main thouroughfare leading up to the Emperorer’s home itself.  In the safety of a nook located near the meeting of these two tunnels, the priestess gestured down the one path leading away into the darkness.

“That path leads on for several walks, until at last you meet the great lizards.”  She paused for a moment, letting the ominous sounding description sink in.  She then swung her hand to her left, towards the tunnel mouth they were closest to.  "This path leads on towards another choice and eventually the diregund.”

With but a few moments of debate a decision was reached to explore towards the diregund for now.  Carmeneren nodded and the small party of svirfneblin, human, and half-elven made their way to a hidden cave to spend the night.

--

_After waking, and a small, dry breakfast, Carmeneren and her group came upon the second choice only a few hours travel from the great crossroads.  _

Facing a section of tunnel wall indistinguishable from any other section, Carmeneren spoke to the adventurers.  “Here lies the route the tentalced-ones use, hidden under this seeming of stone.”  The priestess gestured for Kellron to step forward.  “Touch the wall and feel the difference.”  

The champion of Sarath did so and was surprised when his touch felt not stone but something akin to a warm but firm gelatinous cube.  He wrinkled his nose with disgust.

Carmeneren continued.  “The seeming is thin and you may push through it, but none of my people have been able to go but a few paces beyond.  The tentacled-ones laid magics that are anathema to those of our clan; perhaps you will have better luck.”

The adventurers conferred amongst themselves only briefly and chose to bypass this tunnel and try another route, leaving this one untouched.

Carmeneren nodded at their wisdom and the group moved on to a safer location to talk of the only other route, leading onward into the darkness.


----------



## Seravin

*Knowledge (Dungeoneering and Planes)*

_Four vague descriptions were marked along the choosen route, upon the map that Carmeneren gave to her hoped-for diregund-killers.  *Grells!*; *Dangerous Passages – Wormholes, Razorrock*; *Many Caverns – Beware Ropers, Quaggoths and Others*; and *Many Bad Things – Perhaps Temple of Juiblex – Many Oozes, Slimes*.

Talk with Carmeneren granted the adventurers a small amount of knowledge on what to expect when they came upon the caverns indicated by the markings._

--

Carmeneren spoke, "Grell are monstrous beasts.  In shape they are ovoid about as round as I am tall.  They have a sharp beak and many tentacles that can sap the strength of a person, rendering them unable to move.  We do not think there are many in the caverns marked, but   we know them to be intelligent and very dangerous."

“Razorrock is where glass-like stone has been shattered, creating a veritable floor of slashing blades.  Passage through these areas is possible, but you must go slowly or risk the destruction of footwear and the feet within.  These areas are not natural but we do not know how the stone became so polished.”

“Wormholes are areas where great worms have burrowed through the stone itself.  You can identify them by the numerous tunnels that criss-cross along your path; from wall to wall and ceiling to floor.  The worms are dangerous and sense all movement around them.”  Carmeneren paused.  “They are not pervasive though and the wormholes are old.  Perhaps they are not around.”

“So, they’re like a thoquaa?”  Asked Jallarzi?

“Many times greater in size, perhaps twenty-five of my paces.  One of these worms would fill this cavern completely and spill into the tunnel beyond.  The legends say that these tunnels were created by worms even bigger than that.”

“Beware of ropers.  They are creatures the shape and size of stalagmites.  They shoot strands from their bodies and drag their victims into their mouths.  They will eat anything, but are known for keeping gems in their gullets.”  She saw the look in the adventurer’s eyes.  “Stay away from the creatures; even I say that no gem is worth the trouble these creatures are.”

“Quaggoth are beasts, bigger than an orc but smaller than an ogre; perhaps as bright as either.  They are quarrelsome and are in a quarrael with something else.  My scouts could tell me nothing reliable but said their was a clacking sound from beyond the quaggoth caves.

“As for the temple…”

“It belongs to a demon.”  Interrupted Ashimar.  Kellron shot Ashimar a surprised look“I recognize the name.”  Explained the former-rogue.  “It’s associated with slimes and oozes.”

Carmeneren nodded.  “You will have to pass through the tunnels, but not have to enter the temple itself I am told.  Be careful there.  Beyond those caves the tunnel should be safe with caution until you reach the diregund caves.”


----------



## Seravin

*To Grell or Not to Grell*

After Carmeneren and her retinue left the party for their home caves, the five adventurers traveled for perhaps a half a day when the tunnel split.  According to their map, down the left hand path were the grell while the razorrock and tunnelworms were to the right.

Perhaps they would have continued on, but an earlier encounter with a pitch black ooze had depleted some of their spells and healing for the day.  Deciding that discretion was wiser they backtracked a bit and found a suitable side tunnel to set up their portable cottage in.  A dinner of cold trail rations later found the five discussing what to do next.

“Grell or razorrock?”  Asked Kellron.

“I’d rather make a known safe path.”  Remarked Kestral.  “We can’t talk to worms.”

“I agree.”  Said Ashimar.  “If we manage to rescue the kidnap victims we’ll need a safe path to lead them out on.”

Jallarzi nodded her agreement.

Tore kept her silence.  At the moment she had no intelligent opinion to give; so she would go where the Field Captain ordered.

Then, as one, Jallarzi, Kestral, and Tore looked up over Ashimar’s  head.  He saw their gaze and swore softly.  “They’re watching again, aren't they?”

Jallarzi swore too.  “Yes they are.”  She affirmed.  “Whoever they are.”

Starting the day they had left Corlean, and almost everyday thereafter, Ashimar had been the subject of someone’s scrying spell.  It was impossible for them to tell who was scrying, but first Jallarzi and then Tore began to notice the tell-tale signs.  Once the signs were pointed out Kestral was also sometimes able to pinpoint the invisible scrying sphere.

Patiently the five of them waited in silence, except Ashimar who impatiently tapped his feet.  Soon, perhaps ten minutes later, Tore spoke.  “It’s gone.”

The five then waited a few more minutes, making sure another scrying sphere didn’t appear and then they continued.

“It has to be Father Dark.”  Opined Ashimar.

“Probably.”  Agreed Kellron.  “But there’s nothing we can do about it now.  If this keeps up, maybe we can go visit him the next time we’re in Corlean.”

Ashimar grinned at the thought.  “That would be nice.  So the grell cave in the morning?”

A vote was held and they unaminously decided to approach the grell cave.  If the creatures were hostile, so be it; they would secure the path.  Hopefully Kestral would be able to talk with them though.

_The night didn’t pass easily.  While on watch, Ashimar was alerted to a burning smell coming from the cottage’s door.  Upon opening it, he was greeted by two ochre-colored oozes trying to their way into the hut.  He slammed the door shut quickly and woke his friends.  By this time they had met enough of the creatures to know how to defeat them.  A few spells from Jallarzi and the front porch was covered with the rapidly decomposing remains of the oozes.

They slept in later because of the fight, allowing their wizardess time to gather her spells again._


----------



## Seravin

If I can manage it, there might be one more post later this week.  Then Friday I'm off to visit friends in Germany for a couple weeks.


----------



## Seravin

*A Short Tour of the Grell Caves*

_It was thinking.  Maybe.  The creature looked like a giant, flesh-colored brain, perhaps three to four feet in diameter floating in the air with no visible means of support; it had to be thinking.  The brain-like body was completely devoid of eyes or ears or nose, the body was only marred by a viscious looking beak, clearly made for tearing meat off of bone. Hanging down from the body were ten thick, ochre-colored, barbed tentacles all surrounded by a fringe of smaller tentacles.  A spear apparently made of tarnished silver was looped by two of the long tentacles.  

The unnatural creature floated near the edge of the small cave near the tunnel mouth.  It floated near the mouth because it would have been hard pressed to go much further, for a strange construction it could never have seen before filled most of the cave.  So the creature floated, perhaps pondering the structure, perhaps not.  The creature was so alien it surely could not have recognized what appeared to be a simple country cottage; could it?_

Maybe it was Ashimar who was first out of the hut or maybe it was Kellron.  In the years to follow no one could remember, but someone was the first out of their magical hut and was the first to encounter a grell warrior for the first time.  The fight was brief and not very exciting, except for the newness of the creature and the discovery that the spear channeled bursts of lightning with each hit. 

Afterwards the ones who were there would remember that Ashimar had been outfitted with spells of darkvision and invisibility, and perhaps other spells as well; and then the new-priest scouted ahead.  It was only later that they would understand just how close they had actually camped to the grell caves.

--

The tunnel immediately before the grell caves was filled with the broken, glassy stone called razorrock.  Upon confronting the tunnel the group had backtracked to the closest side tunnel to spend the night.  They were fortunate that they had not attracted the attention of the grell earlier that evening.  Instead the grell that guarded the approach had stayed at its post until it had gotten hungry and decided to hunt.  

--

The adventurer’s procession through the cavern complex was mostly steady.  The soldier grell, armed with the strange lightning lances were little trouble; though Tore’s combat skills were pushed nearly to the breaking point.* Still, even in the main hive-cave where they faced down a half-dozen adult grell soldiers the five adventurers managed to move forward without losing momentum.

It was after the soldiers in the hive-cave that they found the three challenges that tested their worth.  The first challenge was in the main cavern, where after the fight they found three smaller grell, obviously immature, hovering in a corner of the cavern.  There was some talk but eventually Kellron and Ashimar let Kellrons’ divine senses guide their actions and they destroyed the creatures.**

The second challenge was finding out that the some of the grell could cast spells.  In a cavern beyond the main hive guarded by two soldier grell was a third grell steeped in magical power.  The fight was short but viscious.  Kestral would later remember that some of them had gotten caught in a conjured web surrounded by a stinking cloud; the lightning bolts that came next nearly dropped them all.

The final challenge was the king-grell, or whatever it was (they never would inquire).  The creature awaited them in its own cavern, laying atop a monstrous pillar or rock (having heard the combat from the nearest cavern).  It was fat in both size and power and proved the hardest fight to date; moreso because the adventurers had already burned through their spells and potions with no chance to replenish them yet.

The king-grell conjured an area of writhing black tentacles early in the fight, forcing the surface-folk to run through them to get close.  Kellron and Ashimar were able to fight past the grappling tentacles but Jallarzi was easily caught and was shortly rendered unconscious.  Without the intervention of her friends she would have died.

Still, the five adventurers prevailed against the king-grell and found a king’s ransom in treasure, including a shield with a strong magical aura.  They then retreated to the same cave they had spent the night before and rested.  That night Jallarzi looked up from her near constant studies and announced she had finally learned how to teleport and conjure killing clouds.

--

_*Tore is a telepath with a secondary focus on clairsentience.  She was designed to give the group a magical information gathering resource, but for flavor she was given a free armor proficiency and one feat was spent on the bastard-sword.  As a result the party kept using her to fill a secondary combat role.  She ended up getting hurt a lot.

** This gave me pause and precipated me and the players hammering out a code for priests and paladins of Sarath.  At first I was against their action, the creatures were infants after all.  However from the party’s perspective the creatures were aggressive and evidently evil – additionally the level of intelligence at this point was unclear._


----------



## Seravin

_Here's an email I sent to the players after the incident with the grell-babies.  It was pretty much accepted without change by the players.  Maybe it will be useful to others..._

<snip>
I think we can all agree that both Paladins and LG Clerics of Sarath have to follow the same sort of strictures within the church.  
However it is becoming apparent that all three of us have slightly different ideas of appropriate conduct.  So, rather than me imposing judgement summarily from on high, here's your chance for input.  Below are my ideas of what your characters need to be aware of.  Look it over and add your ideas.  Hopefully we'll have something hammered out by the end of the week.  Remember that I want everyone to have fun and if this isn't going to do it for you let me know.  We'll see what we can work out.

The way I see it is that there are four areas of conduct:

1.  What does the Church of Sarath have dominion over - what does it care about? This covers what the followers in general have to worry about.  In this case it is Good, Law, and War.
1.a - (Law) Respect the chain of command.  Legitimate authority must be respected, and if within the chain of command, obeyed.
1.b - (War) The forces of righteousness must be defended.  Take up arms against threats to the Empire with courage
1.c - (Law/Good) Unrestrained violence leads to evil.  Atrocities are often commited during wartime.  Sarath does not permit this.  Rape, the slaughter of innoncents, the refusal to take prisoners, and unlawful plundering (stealing from villagers without recompense) are all violations.  (anything else????)
1.d - (Good) The Empire is a force for righteousness.  Followers are expected to act honorably.  For lay members this is only an expectation.  For priests/champions this includes keeping one's word, forebearing the use of cheaters in combat (poisoning your sword before a fight, etc).

2. The Code of Conduct for the Church of Sarath.  How are priests suppose to comport themselves (LG, LN, NG)?
2.a Priests are expected to set the example to lay members and follow all the restrictions of lay members.
2.b Priests are suppose to look for violations of the restrictions and correct/punish as necessary.
2.c War is not the first answer, but it is the final answer.  Priests should ensure that violence is not their first consideration - that way lies Tresh.  If someone is attempting do you violence respond appropriately.  This is not meant to restrict throwing the first punch in a fight you have every reason to believe is started.  But all combatants have to be aware that a fight has started.  Ambushing a group of warriors in the middle of a state of war is also permitted under this - presuming the ambushee's know they are combatants in a war.

3. The Code of Conduct for Paladins in the church.  What else do the Champions of Sarath (Paladins) have to concern themselves with?  A seperate tier of the church.  Paladins are the example to the individual warriors in the armies.  They represent Sarath's ideal warrior.
3.a - Paladins are under the same restrictions as lay followers and priests
3.b - Paldins do need to lie or cheat - in either battle or their everyday affairs.  Poisoning and drugging opponents are for those who are less capable/worthy.
3.c - Paladins help those in need, presuming that help won't be twisted for evil or used to sow discord.
3.d - Paldins have the right and the duty to punish those that threaten/harm innoncents.  This right is generally granted to Field Captains and above.

4. Limitations to the above.
4.a - these are guidelines and cannot cover every conceivable situation that members come up against.  In cases not addressed, look to a superior officer for guidance.  If the officer/priest is not available, then use your best judgement.  Note that high ranking priests have access to Divination, Augury, Commune, and Planar Ally (Astra Deva and above) - but there isn't always time to kick the question up-level.
4.b - The followers of Sarath are mortal.  You're going to make mistakes.  Mistakes will be punished - not for punishment's sake but to remind you in the future what is appropriate.  Serious and/or deliberate infractions (killing babies, etc) will be punished more harshly - generally by stripping of rank/spells.
4.c - If the situation you question doesn't deal with the church of Sarath - do what you think is the right thing.
<snip>

_Technically 4b would prohibit the killing of grell babies, but I decided not to hand out punishment for a few reasons.  A) The creatures were definitely evil and so alien that interraction beyond combat was virutally impossible (would you mind-read a grell?).  B) We hadn't hammered out a code of conduct until after the encounter.  C) The action was very apparently a no-brainer for the players, even after a little discussion.  Punishment would have been 'not-fun'._


----------



## Mortepierre

Eh, followers of a Good-aligned church and the killing of baby-monsters, the age-old dilemma.

I guess most of us DM have been faced by the need to retrofit a 'code of conduct' after dealing with such encounter, especially if the player(s) dealt with it in a way that didn't come close to our expectations.

I commend you for not punishing them. I found out the hard way years ago that it seldom solves the problem and actually often ends up making things worse. After all, no player is a mind-reader, so expecting them to behave in a certain way just because you happen to be thinking it's the right one isn't very fair. On the other hand, as sole master (after the gods  ) of your (campaign) world, you are certainly entitled to lay down a few rules.

In this case, I solved the problem by making them go through a checklist:
1] Can you determine that the creature is NOT inherently (as in 'from birth') Evil?
2] Do you have a mean to insure that IF you let it go, it won't hurt another innocent being at some point of the future? (even if it's driven only by hunger)
3] Can it be communicated with?
4] If the previous answer was a 'yes', is there any indication that it can be 'redeemed'?

If 2 (or more) of the answers are 'no', then killing is authorized. So far, worked like a charm.

Keep in mind that this applies to encounters far from civilized centers. If they discovered a nest of monsters in the sewers of a city, then I would certainly expect my players to turn to the city's officials to decide what needs to be done with the baby-monsters.


----------



## Seravin

Over the years I've learned that communications usually trumps punishment.  It's not always true, but often enough.    

I like your logic tree though, it makes for a good guideline.  I think I'm going to swipe that for my "Things Players Need to Know" list.  -thanks

---
Update to follow today or tomorrow - our heroes meet a deepspawn and it gets ugly.


----------



## RedShirtNo5

Looking foward to the update. My campaign seems to be moving farther and farther from the module as written. PCs have left Haranshire temporarily and are now initiating an investigation into missing mages in a nearly small city. 

Re the checklist, if I'm following it correctly, it seems to make it *harder* to kill a creature that is inherently evil. 

-RedShirt


----------



## Seravin

*Death by Deepspawn*

_Imagine a creature capable of creating a near perfect replica of whatever creature it consumes; not just the appearance, but even the memories.  The sole noticeable difference is that these replicas are unbreakably loyal to their parent.  Now imagine that this replica-creating creature is extremely intelligent, has the ability to freeze opponents in their tracks, and can read the surface thoughts of its prey.  Unfortunately these nightmare creatures exist.

The common name for these aberrations is ‘Deepspawn’, which is derived from the original dwarvish phrase that described the creature; a phrase that is considered rude at best.  Given the nature of the threat the rudeness is usually overlooked.  

The average deepspawn (if there is such a thing) is roughly twelve feet in diameter with a mottled brown, leathery hide; it looks very much like a giant, partly-deflated ball which inextricably grew a half dozen tentacles.  Three of the tentacles end in mouths with sharp, tearing teeth; the other three tentacles are more dexterous and strong enough to pick up a fully armored man like a child picks up a ragdoll.  

Those who profess to know such things insist that the deepspawn are not natural creatures, but instead were created by some sort of corrupted magic.  Who or what created the first deepspawn is open to question; though the reasoning seems clear enough.  The created spawn of the creature make the perfect spies.

Fortunately the creatures do not seem to be very numerous, and there have been no reported instances of the things venturing upwards past the Middledark – yet._

Late the next morning the five adventurers went through their newly acquired treasure.  Almost thirteen thousand coins; three-quarters of which were of gold and platinum.  Gems and jewelry that Ashimar and Kestral estimated were worth just shy of twenty thousand lions.  Two potions in quartz flasks, a platinum scroll case with two scrolls of divine spells, and an ornate, silvered shield with a strong magical aura rounded out the treasure.  No one could identify the shield’s markings so Kellron decided to claim it as his own when Jallarzi declared it safe with an _identify_ spell.

Afterwards, they packed up their hut and made their way back to the cavern of the king-grell.  The cave appeared undisturbed from the night before though Jallarzi found herself drawn to the massive pillar that the king-grell had sat upon.  There was something odd about the orange and yellow flecked ‘throne’, unfortunately Jallarzi could not divine exactly what it was.  She knew it was magical from the divinations that she had used in the room after the fight, but that was all.  Shrugging, she tabled the oddity for later.

Exploration revealed that two other tunnels led from the cavern.  The northernmost tunnel was wide, but apparently had seen little use.  The southern tunnel was much narrower, but Kestral was able to find signs of some tracks.  Discussion ensued and the decision was made to explore the northern tunnel first.  If there was a premonition of disaster, no one voiced it.

The tunnel went straight for two hundred feet before opening up into another large cavern, though this one held the smell of dampness and mold.  It also held two grell, floating as silent sentries.  The floating aberrations clacked their beaked maws with menace and the melee began.

Kellron and Ashimar charged in to meet the grells whilst Jallarzi, Kestral, and Tore moved to more tactical positions.  One of the grell drifted back while waving its tentacles in complex patterns, generating a gout of electricity that washed over the adventurers.  The other grell moved forward, positioning its lance and barbed tentacles for a viscious attack.  

None of the surface-folk were worried.  They had already tested their skills against grell, and had survived.  Kestral was the first to determine that something else was in the cavern, as magical energy washed over her.  She felt the strange, alien energies but couldn’t identify them; curiously nothing apparent occurred, but she called out a warning just in case as she scanned the room.

Afterwards no one would remember who spotted the creature first, a mottled, bloated sphere with a half-dozen ten-foot long tentacles that it used to pull itself out of pool of water onto the rocky shore.  The sorcerous grell was dead by then, so Kellron and Ashimar charged the huge creature, ignoring the surviving warrior grell.

The creature flailed its tentacles as Jallarzi sent hasted spell after hasted spell after the thing.  In the burst of magical energies, no one noticed that the beast’s magics had somehow ensnared Kellron*; no one excepting the spawned grell warrior.  The warrior had been little more than a nuisance to the paladin and had been all but ignored.  When Kellron froze however the creature clicked once with satisfaction, pulled back its spear almost leisurely, and drove it deep into Kellron’s body.  

Kellron’s corpse fell to the floor with a thump of metal and flesh.**

There were no shouts of dismay, only grim determination.  Kellron’s killer did not survive him by more than a handful of seconds.  Kestral was spurred into action, realizing now that the magical energies were some sort of hold effect and that her ring had saved her.  The former courier drew Therevel and Tore drew her own sword and they joined Ashimar in the fray while Jallarzi drew upon her spells.

The deepspawn didn’t last long, even when it revealed the ability to spontaneously heal itself.  It only forced the surviving friends to redouble their efforts.  Wounded, the creature was forced to retreat back into its pool, but even that wasn’t enough to save it.

Kestral focused her will on Thereval, attempting to contact hidden magic within and was rewarded with a pearly white radiance that surrounded the blade.***  Relying on the ring given to her by the Water King, she entered the pool intending to drive the creature out.

Kestral succeeded in forcing the deepspawn from the pool, right into Ashimar’s and Jallarzi’s waiting arms.  It was a brief and hostile reception.

Their reward?  More gold, more platinum, more gems and jewels, a potion, and magical silver mirror; but none of it could make up for the death of their friend.  The four mourning friends gathered up their comrade’s body and retreated to their cave to lick their wounds.  To ensure that they would be relatively undisturbed they made sure the back wall of their hut blocked their little cave’s entrance.

--
_*Natural 1.  That I distinctly remember.
**He was doing really poorly with saves this combat.  I hated having the creature perform a coup de grace, but I couldn’t justify it doing anything else._ 

***Use Magic Device.  By this point Kestral knows there’s something more to Thereval, but doesn’t know what yet.


----------



## Seravin

RedShirtNo5 said:
			
		

> Looking foward to the update. My campaign seems to be moving farther and farther from the module as written. PCs have left Haranshire temporarily and are now initiating an investigation into missing mages in a nearly small city.
> 
> Re the checklist, if I'm following it correctly, it seems to make it *harder* to kill a creature that is inherently evil.
> 
> -RedShirt




Ask and ye shall receive, hope you enjoy the post.  
Good luck with your pc's too; given the nature of the module there isn't much to keep them on track except their own desires.  Not that that's a bad thing of course, it's what makes dm'ing interesting (for me at least).

As for the checklist, I'm not sure how it looks harder to kill an inherently evil creature.  If you need 2 no's, then an inherently evil creature is an automatic no - halfway there as it were.  Of course there's the requirement for the second 'no' I guess, but question #2 has a pretty high benchmark to clear to get a yes.

The bigger question for me is how do the characters know that the creature is inherently evil?  Knowledge Religion (DC15?) and/or _detect evil_ I guess would be my answers.


----------



## Seravin

*Questions with no particular answers*

There were some questions that occurred to me during this section of the module.  If any of these occurred to the players, they never followed up on them.  I'm sharing them here in case they might spark some ideas for others.

1. Why are the grell in _this_ particular cave complex?  Do they have a specific purpose here?  If so, where did they come from?  Perhaps something to do with the flux point?

2. How does the deepspawn fit into this?  Is there a particular orgin for deepspawn?  In my mind they could be the result of a bio-weapon program (Or whatever you want to call it).  Maybe this creature was forced into this tunnel by the grell as a food source.

3. Are the illithid somehow responsible for all of this?  Protecting their back door as it were?  If so, are there any contingencies or checks in place, or are the illithid over-confident? 

Like I said, none of these questions were explored by the characters.  It remains to be seen if they ever do look into it.


----------



## Mortepierre

Seravin said:
			
		

> Over the years I've learned that communications usually trumps punishment.  It's not always true, but often enough.
> 
> I like your logic tree though, it makes for a good guideline.  I think I'm going to swipe that for my "Things Players Need to Know" list.  -thanks




Pleasure 



			
				RedShirtNo5 said:
			
		

> Re the checklist, if I'm following it correctly, it seems to make it *harder* to kill a creature that is inherently evil.
> 
> -RedShirt




You're correct. My fault, I formulated it badly. Fixed now.


----------



## Mortepierre

Seravin said:
			
		

> As for the checklist, I'm not sure how it looks harder to kill an inherently evil creature.  If you need 2 no's, then an inherently evil creature is an automatic no - halfway there as it were.  Of course there's the requirement for the second 'no' I guess, but question #2 has a pretty high benchmark to clear to get a yes.




Actually, he was right. The first question hadn't been formulated correctly. If my players can determine that a creature IS inherently evil-aligned, then killing it should be easier for them, not harder.



			
				Seravin said:
			
		

> The bigger question for me is how do the characters know that the creature is inherently evil?  Knowledge Religion (DC15?) and/or _detect evil_ I guess would be my answers.




Detect Evil doesn't quite cut it, else anyone who becomes evil and is powerful enough to gain an aura would qualify too (although you could say that such person _is_ now inherently evil, albeit not from birth). I usually solve that particular question through a Knowledge check based on the creature type OR Religion (I tend to favor the latter for questions of ethics)


----------



## Mortepierre

Seravin said:
			
		

> 2. How does the deepspawn fit into this?  Is there a particular orgin for deepspawn?  In my mind they could be the result of a bio-weapon program (Or whatever you want to call it).  Maybe this creature was forced into this tunnel by the grell as a food source.
> 
> 3. Are the illithid somehow responsible for all of this?  Protecting their back door as it were?  If so, are there any contingencies or checks in place, or are the illithid over-confident?




Funny, that's exactly the road I went. Bio-weapon from the illithids. Then again, at this stage, my players pretty much blame everything and anything that goes wrong on the illithids...


----------



## Seravin

Mortepierre said:
			
		

> Funny, that's exactly the road I went. Bio-weapon from the illithids. Then again, at this stage, my players pretty much blame everything and anything that goes wrong on the illithids...



Always blame the illithids - it's safer.


----------



## Seravin

Mortepierre said:
			
		

> Actually, he was right. The first question hadn't been formulated correctly. If my players can determine that a creature IS inherently evil-aligned, then killing it should be easier for them, not harder.
> 
> 
> 
> Detect Evil doesn't quite cut it, else anyone who becomes evil and is powerful enough to gain an aura would qualify too (although you could say that such person _is_ now inherently evil, albeit not from birth). I usually solve that particular question through a Knowledge check based on the creature type OR Religion (I tend to favor the latter for questions of ethics)




Ooof.  I must have been tired and just read what you meant, and not what you wrote. 
The Detect Evil goof is just additional proof that I was tired.  Ah well, I've certainly been wrong before.
I think I would favor Knowledge Religion for determining if the creature is inherently evil.
And after thinking it over, I would allow Detect Evil to substitute in a pinch; especially if the creature registered moderately evil or stronger.  The communication and redemption questions should act as a failsafe.  Maybe.  Probably.


----------



## Seravin

*A Defining Moment*

The session started something like this:

DM: Okay, it’s the next morning.  You folks are all rested.  Ashimar used his remaining spells yesterday to finish healing folks and Kestral supplemented using Kellron’s _cure light wounds_ wand.
You’ve blocked off the mouth of the cavern you’re staying in with the back wall of the hut.  Something might still get in, but it would have to be flexible and determined.
What do you want to do?

Jallarzi: I’ve memorized teleport.  I’d like to teleport back to the temple of Sarath with Kellron and get him raised.

Ashimar: We should give you a shopping list while you’re up there.  I think you need more pearls for your _identify’s_ and we could use some more potions.  (Ashimar’s player would help Jallarzi’s player keep track of components).

Kellron’s Player: We should stock up on some better food too.  Why eat rations when we can have real food now?

Miscellaneous Talk: The players discuss what they want to purchase, and more importantly what they might need to sell or trade for Kellron’s resurrection.  Fortunately they have more than enough coin.  Jallarzi will have to stay overnight though because she can only memorize one teleport at a time.

DM: So, where are you going to teleport too?  And with anyone else?

Jallarzi: The temple of Sarath in Corlean, and just me and Kellron’s body.  He’s too heavy so I can’t bring anyone else.

DM: You’ve only visited a couple times and I don’t recall that you ever spent any time memorizing the location for a teleport.  Are you _sure_ you want to teleport there?

Jallarzi: <pages flip in her PHB> Grrrr.  D**n.  How about the Library?  I’ve been training there, it should be familiar.

DM: I’ll give you that.  So, you’re teleporting to Corlean with just Kellron.  You’ve got the coin you need and I heard Kestral is giving you the bag of holding with the party’s coins to convert to gems.  Also, you have the shopping list. Anything else?

Jallarzi: No.

DM: Okay. <evil smile>.  Roll your percentile chance and be happy that we’re not playing second edition; rolling high sucks.

<clatter>

--

Teleports to the Library at Corlean are usually to the front receiving hall in the main building.  The hall is of medium size with high, vaulting ceilings.  Today the walls were of dark, gray stone and the floor looked to be of well-trod flagstones.  

The air shimmered briefly in the far corner and Jallarzi appeared exactly where she had envisioned with Kellron’s corpse at her side.  The journey-wizard looked around and spotted two apprentices who had just entered the hall from outside.  The apprentices had noticed her arrival and were beginning to realize the shape at her feet was an armored corpse.

“You!”  Jallarzi pointed at the larger apprentice, a boy she recognized from her introductory few days as an apprentice (though his name escaped her).  “I need a carriage to take me to the Temple of Sarath.”  The apprentice, realizing that she was standing over a corpse was only staring.  “Now!”  Snapped the impatient journey-wizard.

The apprentice shook himself and focused on the needs of the momet.  “I don’t have enough coin…”  He began.

Jallarzi snarled and reached into her pouch and tossed a few golden lions his way.  “I need to get him to the temple of Sarath.”  

The apprentice grabbed at the coins, missing two of them.  His friend helped picked them up and the two disappeared out the front door.  As apprentices they were use to running errands for the journey-wizards, and this one was both comparatively easy and was going to be profitable.  Plus the newest journey-wizard teleporting into the main entry with a corpse was going to make a good excuse for being late to their next class.

--

_The main worship hall of Sword House is typical for its function, being a place to gather a large number of people and focusing their attention on a speaker of import.  Built from the same gray stone as all the other buildings in Corlean, the worship hall is large and can seat over a three hundred men and women on its dark wooden benches.  The congregation faces forward to observe an altar covered with white linen, a podium, and a massive, up-raised two-handed sword mounted on the wall over the altar.

The hall is used twice daily; once in the morning for prayer and the day’s instructions, and then again in the evening for thanks, honors, and the rememberence of those who have fallen.  During the rest of the day the chamber stands mostly empty, with only two or three lay-brothers on hand to answer and advise those with questions of faith.  

Some think it odd that the church of Sarath maintains a staff that is outside the command structure of the soldiers.  This separate structure is for three reasons.  The first is that it allows the lay-brothers (and sisters) to perform their duties without interference from the soldiers.  Secondly it gives each chuch a sense of permanence and solidity.  Finally, and perhaps most importantly, it allows the soldiers to work closely with the people they are mandated to protect – civilians._

The quiet of Sword House was interrupted this day when a young, white-haired woman, dressed in traveling clothes, barged into the main worship hall, followed by two soldiers bearing the body of a fallen officer.  The woman scanned the hall quickly and focused on the nearest person who was wearing a brown, uniform-like tunic and trousers.  The beautiful and commanding woman stalked over to the man who until the interruption had been sweeping the floor.

“Get me Colonel Megara right now.”  She ordered.

Brother Gavriel started to bristle at the woman’s commanding tone.  She didn’t look like a soldier but she talked like one.  He recognized the body of Field Captain Kellron however and knew Colonel Megara would want to know as soon as possible.  He nodded to the woman and waved the soldiers to lay out the body on one of the pews.  He then hurried off into the depths of the church.

--

“Bring him back.  Make him better.”  Jallarzi’s tone had softened only a little when confronted with Colonel Megara, but the inflexible imperiousness was still there.

The battle-hardened priestess hadn’t been talked to like that in several years but for her own reasons, the good colonel kept her peace.  “I’ll see what I can do.  Perhaps tomorrow…”

“We need him today.  We’re investigating the missing mages...”  Interrupted the wizardess.

The forty-something year old colonel looked coolly upon the young woman who was perhaps half her age.  “I understand you’re distraught young lady, but the church of Sarath normally kills people, not brings them back to life.  That is the providence of the Life Taker.”  The colonel paused only a moment to let it sink it, but not long enough for Jallarzi to interrupt again.  “Still, I will commune with a messenger of Sarath in the morning and see if perhaps he will permit one of His soldiers to be returned, if that soldier is willing to take up the sword once again.”

Jallarzi’s shoulders relaxed just a little.  “Thank you.  I will come back in the morning then.”

The colonel held up her hand.  “One more thing.  Whether Sarath or or Vieta grants this, their messenger will require a sacrifice.”

Jallarzi’s hand strayed to the bag at her belt.  “I can pay it.”

The colonel didn’t bother to tell Jallarzi that not all sacrifices were necessarily in coin.  Instead she watched the woman walk out of the hall and then turned to deal with Kellron’s body.  That evening she took her solace in prayer.


----------



## Seravin

There are a few game sessions that stay with a person over the years.  For me, this is one of them.

Watching Jallarzi's player work through the dangers of teleport for the first time was fun.  
Hearing her order the second in command of a warrior temple was... bemusing.  It was a pure Jallarzi moment.  

It was fun.


----------



## Seravin

*Sounds of War*

Kestral sat crosslegged on her bunk inside their portable cottage.  Jallarzi would be gone for a day or two, so it was just her, Ashimar, and Tore.  Normally Kestral would be talking with both or either of them, but today no one was feeling very talkative.

Ashimar was sitting at the table in the corner, alternately reading the book of imperial law that Colonel Megara had given him, cleaning his sword and armor, and occasionally quietly invoking prayers to Sarath.  Ashimar had seen Kellron die once before and come back to tell the tale.  How the latest death affected him was between him and Sarath.

Tore was a contrast to the thief turned priest.  Sitting crosslegged on her bunk, she was a study in stillness while she meditated.  Unlike Ashimar’s quiet acceptance Tore had been obviously shaken by Kellron’s death, and she still didn’t quite believe Kestral’s and Jallarzi’s assurances that Kellron would be as good as new.  Miracles on that order were not common-place.  So for now the witch mediated.

Which left herself looking at the cold, gray metal sword lying upon her lap.  The short-blade was stark in its simplicity, unmarred by any scrape, scratch or mark, save the runes imprinted upon the tang.  ‘Thereval’ in elvish.  ‘MINE’ in the imperial translation.  No one in Corlean had known of that maker’s mark, and the smith’s who had seen it had claimed it wasn’t even elvish work.

Jallarzi had said that the sword was of the strongest magics, equal to the Water King’s ring, though the magic was of a transmutational sort.  The wizardess couldn’t tell more; for the blade resisted any magical identification she could apply.

It was the key to a puzzle, but the puzzle was missing.  Kestral had found a way to poke at it though, using the bits of knowledge she had picked up over the years: The mediation techniques of witches, half-heard from her youth; obscure fragments from books casually perused over the last year; and a little knowledge gleaned from listening to Jallarzi as she muttered over her books each night.  In short, Kestral was blindly probing the sword in every half-baked measure she could possibly imagine. 

Needless to say Kestral was quite imaginative and her blind stabs in the dark had proven successful.  Yesterday in desperation she had called up some white radiance which that had burned the aberrant creature.  Now she was going to try and see what else she could discover.

Kestral wrapped her hand around Thereval’s hilt and closed her eyes.  Unconsciously mimicking Tore, Kestral slowed her breathing just a bit and invoked a small prayer to the gods as she tried to ‘will’ something to happen.

--

_It was like dreaming again; or a close equivalent.  Things had been different; the songs of battle had ended, replaced with the change and the solitude.  That was the time of memory, reverie, and sleep; the time of waiting for the next transforatmion to come along.

The waiting was ended with companionship replacing solitude, though not the sort it would have picked. The effects of the last change was still upon it however and the voice that had sung the chorus of a thousand battles was gone.  

This new companion was a gray shadow, made all the darker by her sword-companion’s flames.  The shadow would have been unsuitable in the times before; but now it was sole spark that tried to reach out (no matter how blindly) through the loneliness.


So now was the time of redefining and of inspiration.  When the gray shadow reached for the light it would teach her all the songs of battle.  In time she would be part of the light and flare as bright as any star.  It was the least it could do to repay her gift of companionship._

--

There was the sound of steel on steel in the far distance and Ashimar looked up.  The sound was all wrong, it had sounded far away, but not muffled like the walls would have done.  The priest strained his senses trying to fix the sound.

And then Kestral’s sword began to vibrate; began to sing a song a war.  It started low and rhythmic, like the marching of a regiment.  Thump..Thump..Thump.. Slowly the volume increased and the sound of metal against metal could be heard between the deep sounds.  Finally the sword began to hum.  If Panther had still been around he would have described it as a choir of soldiers marching to some celestial aria.

Kestral opened her eyes and stared at the sword with a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction.  Another puzzle piece; hopefully it would fit with something.


----------



## Seravin

There's a new Night Below story hour on the boards, from the perspective of a player it looks like.  I like the style.  You can find it here: http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?p=2282821#post2282821


----------



## Seravin

*Another Day, Another Death*

_No matter the method, death is always ugly; but those who survive the deceased can sometimes take comfort if some bit of glory was attached to the passing.  Dying in the defense of loved ones is certainly one way to attain the glory that comforts and inspires the living.  Dying in the midst of performing one’s duty is another way.  _

--

Jallarzi had returned the night before with Kellron, both carrying a pile of foodstuffs and other miscellaneous items for their friends.  There was rejoicing at the return of their fallen friend and they passed the night with quiet friendship and warm food.  In the morning the five companions set out again, heading further down the long corridor towards the diregund and the city of the Glass Pool.

--

They heard the sounds before they saw the creatures; heavy footfalls against the cold gray stone of the tunnel floor.  It sounded like a troop of ogres, but when the creatures came into sight it turned out to be only two beings, each half-again as tall as any ogre with the form and feature of a human.  The creatures were dressed in ragged, leathery skins and carried crude clubs made from thick stalagmites ripped up from the ground.  Tied to their belts were thick, dirty looking bags made out of the same leather as their clothes, and heavy with weight.

Cave giants.  None of them had seen one before outside of a picture book, but they were easy enough to identify.  Kestral tried calling out in the broken giant she had gleaned from the many handbooks she had picked up, but the creatures ignored her.  Or rather, the giants ignored the words and snarled something about "get the food".  Reaching into their sacks the giants each pulled out a rock the size of a man’s head and made ready to throw.  Seeing the state of relations, the five companions pulled their own weapons free and the fight began.

It wasn’t a long fight as these things go.  Cave giants are known to come in many sizes, but at their simplest they are really nothing but bigger and stronger ogres.  That’s almost certainly what Ashimar was thinking as he rushed in knowing that he was going to have to cross through the creature’s greater reach before he could bring his own blade to bear.

The first hit was a lucky shot on the part of the giant.  Ashimar caught it in the chest even as he tried to dodge aside*.  His ribs crying out at the abuse, the priest of Sarath continued his charge and stabbed at his opponent.  It was a good stroke, but the hide and muscle on the giant was thick and Ashimar knew he would have to make many more like it while his opponent only needed a couple more like that first one.

Ashimar was only partly right.  The giant brought his club up and around again, still amazingly fast, and clocked the priest again**.  This time sometime inside gave, but before he could shout out the giant followed up with a second swing of his club.  It hit too, albeit compared to the last two hits it was only a glancing blow; but it was enough.  Ashimar crumpled, his armor caved in about his chest and his neck bent at an unnatural angle.  

The others, Kellron, Jallarzi, Kestral, and Tore paused in shock for a moment and then grimly took up the fight again.  It was over quickly, though no one remembered the details clearly after the fight.  It was with a heavy heart that the four survivors backtracked to a side cavern a little ways behind them.  In the morning Jallarzi would make another trip to Corlean and Colonel Megara would make everything better.

--

_Two days later…_
Jallarzi stood in main worship hall of Sword House.  Colonel Megara was before her, attended by two other priests dressed in ceremonial whites.  The wizardess was looking bewildered.

“Where’s Ashiamr?”  She asked, scanning the hall.

“I’m sorry Jallarzi.  We couldn’t bring him back.”  

The news stunned the young half-elf and she rocked back as if slapped.  

Colonel Megara bowed her head in sorrow for a moment and then steeled herself, meeting the woman’s eyes.  “We do however recognize the importance of your mission and I’d like to offer Lieutenant Jared here as a replacement.”  Her arm swept to the priest at her right, a young man with dark hair and eyes looking closer to thirty then Ashimar’s eighteen.   

“He has long been with the church and has both combat experience as well as the grace of Sarath.”

Jallarzi stood quietly for a moment, not really hearing what Megara was saying.  “I’ll take him with me.”  She said almost distantly.  “But we’ll have to see what the others say.”

Colonel Megara nodded.  “Jared will be ready inside of the hour.” 

Jallarzi nodded. 

The young wizardess was not much of a people-person; not like Kestral or Kellron.  If she had been then she might have noticed the Colonel’s use of words or her look of relief at Jallarzi’s acceptance of the situation.

Colonel Megara was very unhappy and not just because she had to bury a promising new soldier.  The priestess of the Order of the Victorious Dragons had just found out that the soul of her newest priest was missing and she didn’t know where it was.  Perhaps she should have told Jallarzi, but Kellron and his friends had more important things to do right now.  The Colonel was resolved to try and find her own answers first and let Kellron and his friends find theirs.

--

_*Critical hit.
**2nd critical hit followed by a normal hit.  I’m not a 100% certain after all this time but I think he went to negative twenty something in the space of two rounds._


----------



## Seravin

That was story post #100 for those keeping count (like me).  Yay.

This session was a bit of a shocker for me.  
What stands out most was how fast Ashimar seemed to fall.  He charged out ahead of everyone and met the giants head on.  

In retrospect I'm not sure if it was a calculated risk, boredom-induced-suicide, or just pig-headed determination gone wrong.  The player is certainly capable of all three, sometimes at the same time.  Or so I grok, it could have been something else.    

At any rate, at the end of the fight the player decided to bring in a new character, a priest this time.  As it was easier to make him a priest of Sarath he decided to go that route.

So, we introduce Lieutenant Jared, Cleric 9, with the Good and War domains.  He has good strength, constitution, and wisdom, and average everything else.  Jared is the seasoned, confident veteran to Ashimar's promising, young recruit.

Jared is a bit grim in the first few months, taking his job seriously.  Unfortunately his reception is a bit cool.  Kellron ends up liking Jared the least, accepting the man because of necesseity but not able to accept his newest friend's death.  Jared was only a fellow soldier while Ashimar had been like a brother.

There was some interesting tension.


----------



## Capellan

Seravin said:
			
		

> This session was a bit of a shocker for me.
> What stands out most was how fast Ashimar seemed to fall.  He charged out ahead of everyone and met the giants head on.




In 3rd Edition, that's pretty much asking to die.  Giants are brutal


----------



## Seravin

Capellan said:
			
		

> In 3rd Edition, that's pretty much asking to die.  Giants are brutal



The thing is, I knew it and I'm almost certain that Ashimar's player knew it - but I had been dm'ing 3rd edition for two years by this time and this was still the player's first year with playing 3E.  It's possible it was only an intellectual knowledge, not the bone-deep knowledge of having seen the dice roll.  Just a case of 1st and 2nd edition knowledge getting in the way.  :\ 

At any rate, what shocked me was the 2nd death in two game sessions - that felt a little hurried; and it was due to a random encounter.  It would be a long time before I used giants off the wandering monster list.


----------



## Seravin

Here's another link to another Night Below story hour.  It's got a great opening and I look forward to future posts.  http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?p=2302420#post2302420


----------



## Seravin

*Dark Meetings…or A Cold Day in Corlean*

Arguable, the Gaming House is one of the most public places in Corlean; however because it hosts high-stakes games the gambling den has some of the most secure and private of rooms to be found in the city.

This evening the house’s largest such private room was reserved by a minor merchant known for his indulgence for card games.  If confronted about this reservation the merchant would have smiled and nodded and waved off the questions with cries of too much drink and too little luck with visitors from out of town.  The reservation was his alibi while he was doing …darker things that evening; an alibi his good friend Grandal Deverex was only too arrange for a small price.

The location was choosen as a central yet inconspicuous meeting point and was agreed to via vaguely written notes and quick one-on-one meetings.  No one thought of it as neutral ground as the owners would be attending this meeting, but the gained advantage was considered insignificant at best.

They each arrived in their own way as previously arranged and agreed to. 

Quereth Holtson was the first, arriving at the back door via his private carriage and making his way through hidden corridors that let into the room.  The dark-haired, forty-something owner sat quietly in the room for several hours considering his visitors and their past meetings.  

A finely dressed older gentleman and his guard, a burly, swarthy looking man, were the next to arrive via the front entrance.  They made their way to a private table where the old man availed himself of a light dinner.  After his meal, Grandal Deverex greeted them both politely and invited the gentleman to small game of chance.  The invitation was gratefully accepted and the man and his guard were escorted to the private room.  Grandal then left the two guests to deal with other matters.

Once settled into the room the guard pulled out a small, black leather bag from beneath his vest.  He opened it and empty the contents into his palm; a palm-sized crystal cut into an oval shape and polished smooth.  The guard, who didn’t look much like a guard now, nodded to the older man who then pulled out what appeared to be a metal gauntlet made of chain links forge from some blackened metal – adamantine perhaps.  The old man put on the gauntlet and began to intone in a strange language that sounded awfully like a prayer.

Quereth observed his first two guests with some amount of curiosity.  The older gentleman was Ker Aruk, the advisor to Baron Toruk Roth who was the recently announced betrothed to the lady Gabrella Hilmaron, the eldest daughter of the Duke of Larence.  He was apparently a companion of the Baron Roth’s father and later the tutor of the current Baron.  It was apparently his advice that sent Baron Roth to the Duke for aid in repelling bandits from the surrounding lands (his own lands were currently safe thanks to a small but determined militia).

Aruk was fit but the many lines in his face said that he was perhaps in his fifth decade. Whatever color his hair had been, it was now steel gray with age.  Aruk’s glittering black eyes were his most arresting feature though.  It was easy to see this man as some sort of retired warrior who had traded in his sword with age and now advised the younger generation.  There was a fire in this Aruk and he seemed to have the ability to pass it on.  The Duke apparently thought so too for it was said that Aruk now had the ear of Hilmaron.  

Aruk’s guard, Imtithal was an enigma though.  Investigation had revealed little beyond that he had arrived at the Baron’s keep with two brothers shortly before the Baron came south to ask the Duke for aid.  The Baron, with Aruk's advice, had accepted their service and had taken them south with him.  

Imtithal was a tall, burly looking man with the dark features of someone from Relk.  Imtithal’s presence was such that he looked too small for his body however.  Like Aruk, he dressed in dark clothes that were kept scrupulously neat.  At his side was a longsword but it was carried more as an ornament then as something that was to be used.  Imtithal didn’t look like he would need the sword if trouble broke out.  

Imtithal noticed Quereth’s appraising glance and smiled widely.  “I like you so I offer this freely.  Your man has other loyalties and is just waiting for you to die.  You should reconsider his service with you.”  The words were part mocking, but there was a sense of truth behind them that hit Quereth like a punch to the stomach.

Quereth had no doubt that the foreigner meant Grandal.  He was aware of Grandal’s other communications but hadn’t considered them necessarily traitorous.  It could be some ploy to divide his organization, but perhaps it was time to take a closer look at Grandal’s activities.  He considered the man’s words in silence while Aruk continued his prayer.  Quereth would no doubt have been interested in learning that one of Imtithal’s names translated to ‘Polite Poison’.

Presently Aruk’s intonation was done and he looked up, straring off into a point somewhere ten feet beyond the wall.  His eyes were completely black.
“We are ready.  The gem is set.  Come soon.”

Aruk then exhaled as his shoulders slumped and his vision returned to normal.  He then half turned to Quereth, bowed a greeting, and seated himself into a nearby chair.  “They should be here momentarily.  You will remember that they are not like you and I.  Do not be alarmed, they are eminently rational creatures and understand the value of allies.”

Quereth nodded.  “Can I offer you a drink?  There’s a cabinent over there.”

Aruk nodded and glanced to Imtithal.  “Would you please?”  

Imtithal nodded and crossed the room to the indicated cabinet.  He then proceeded to pick a bottle and then poured three glasses.

Quereth noted that in privacy the old man spoke to his ‘guard’ as an equal but said nothing of it.  Instead he passed the short wait in idle chit-chat until their guests arrived.

It wasn’t long, perhaps only a few minutes.  Quereth’s keen eyes noted a darkening of the gem that Imtithal had placed on the table just before the creatures silently appeared in a fluttering of heavy velvet robes the color of the morning sky.

They were man sized, though a little on the tall and spindly side.  The hoods were up and pulled low over their face, but Quereth was well practiced in peering through shadows and caught the movement of writhing tentacles where the mouth would be as well as eyes that were far larger than any he had seen before.  There was a smell not unlike fish that accompanied them.  The two creatures looked to Aruk first and then Imtithal and finally to Quereth.  He wasn't sure but the old rogue thought he saw them freeze as they looked him.

_*We are representatives of the Shaobath and are here to discuss strategy in Corlean.  We were told there would another.* _ The words were not spoken aloud.

Aruk nodded.  “He will be here soon, he is presently…”  He was interrupted by the opening of the door.  “Ah.  Here he is now.”

Grandal’s eyes had already swept the room to determine who was there.  He had closed and was locking the door behind him as Aruk finished speaking.  He then walked to another chair near Quereth and sat down.  

Neither Imtithal nor the two creatures deigned to sit in the provided chairs.  Instead Imtithal stood behind Aruk like some looming shadow; while the two newcomers shifted a bit and drew their legs up into a cross-legged position beneath their robes without so much as shifting vertically.  The hem of their robes  levitated perhaps two finger-breadths over the carpeted floor.

Grandal stared at the display for only a moment before speaking.  “As agreed, I’m going to cast a spell to verify that there are no extraneous enchantments on anyone and that the wards are still intact.”  So saying he began his castings.

The right most creature observed this with interest and then turned to Quereth.  _*He would be valuable.  Name the price of your thrall.*_

Quereth gritted his teeth.  He wasn’t sure if Grandal had heard or not, but the divisive attempts were becoming too obvious.  “That is inappapropriate.”  He started.

_*The thrall cannot hear this conversation as it would make it unnecessarily difficult to control.  The thrall is of obvious value.  We have found that the granting of long life is considered a valuable payment by your kind.*_

 “Again, that is inappropriate.  I will not discuss that now.”  Quereth then looked at Aruk who was looking askance at his exchange.  “They were making a side offer that is not relevant to this discussion.”

_*Very well.  Our offer will stay open.  We can provide an example if you care.*_

Grandal looked at his friend and boss and then to the creatures then shrugged.  Quereth would tell him later.  He then opened up the meeting.  “I believe things are proceeding apace.  As agreed we provided a building for the use of the Shaobath.  Does it meet your requirements?”

_*It is sufficient.  Already it has drawn those with the talent we are seeking and they are learning as fast as can be expected.*_

“Good.”  He turned to Aruk.  “I believe you found the information we provided on the various personages useful?”

The older man made a gratified smile.  “Quite useful.  Imtithal and his brothers were able to expand quite readily upon it.  So much so that I believe we can offer you a gift.”

Grandal paused.  “Oh?  How so?”

“I understand you went through a bit of trouble about a month ago.  We have some information that you might find useful on the one called Ashimar.”

Grandal snorted.  “He’s dead.  The temple of Sarath buried him yesterday.”

Aruk smiled broadly.  “Even better.  It seems that Ashimar did some bad things when he was younger.  What would you say if I offered you a way to revenge yourself?”

“I would ask how much?”

“This time it is a gift.  A thank you for your help.  If you are interested in further business though, Imtithal has had some thoughts on regaining your...stolen monies, but that thought will cost you a percentage of the return.”

Quereth interrupted.  “I think we would both be interested in hearing these thoughts.  Let us finish our discussions and then we can talk about this when we’re done.”

It was a long meeting, but fruitful for all involved.


----------



## Seravin

It's when I'm writing posts like this that I wish my style was a little more like Shemeska's, Piratecat's, or Sep's.
Still, it should give an idea of what I was planning while the party was off playing in the underdark.


----------



## GrassyKnoll53

http://www.castle-grounds.co.uk/nb/home.htm

We have more or less just finished Book 2 if anyones interested 

I am the narrator, and not the DM so it has no rules on conversions or anything unfortunatly. 

I will have a good read of your story so far shortly Seravin, having just found the link.

Grassy Knoll


----------



## Seravin

GrassyKnoll53 said:
			
		

> http://www.castle-grounds.co.uk/nb/home.htm
> 
> We have more or less just finished Book 2 if anyones interested
> 
> I am the narrator, and not the DM so it has no rules on conversions or anything unfortunatly.
> 
> I will have a good read of your story so far shortly Seravin, having just found the link.
> 
> Grassy Knoll



I missed your post to the thread as it just so happens I've been forcing myself to finish up my first draft of the Book II conversion.
Thanks for stopping by and letting us know about your site - I look forward to poking about.  I hope you enjoy what you find here.

Everyone else, 
I've been busy working on a conversion for Book II.  I have a rough/ugly conversion done - but it's not something John Cooper could pass without flinching.  I know the skills are off for most everything in the City of the Glass Pool, and I need to rethink the format for the non-SRD right ups.

Still, I know there are some DM's who pass by who might be interested in it.  
If you are interested, send me an email at: bradac at alaska dot net .  
Put Night Below in the subject line so I don't lose it in the spam and I'll send you a link.

In return all I ask is that you send me your comments and/or suggestions.  Ultimately I'd like to clean it up enough to post here on ENWorld.

I'm heading out of town for the weekend, but I hope to have time to write up the next post - which means I should have it posted before Wednesday of next week.


----------



## Seravin

*Strange Grounds*

_The opening in the side of the tunnel was like a gaping wound in the tunnel’s wall.  Unlike most of the little side tunnels they had come across during their trek, this one seemed to match up to the side tunnel marked on their map.  

*Many Caverns – Beware Ropers, Quaggoths, and Others* read the map.  The group paused for only a few moments for the discussion didn’t take long; no one wanted to leave a nest of monsters behind them.

Of course two days later they were a little surprised to come upon a fork in the tunnel.  It was time to camp for the evening anyway, so they hunted for a safe side tunnel and cave and pondered for the night.  The next morning they choose the right-hand path._

---

*In Media-Res*
Jared ran forward across the green glass floor and jumped up onto the six-foot high ledge that ran along the walls of the kidney-shaped chamber.  He skidded slightly on the smooth, whorled-looking glassrock; but the priest caught himself handily and started forward to free Tore from the grasp of the eight-foot tall, mishappened creature.

The creature had disguised itself as one of the many pillar-like vases lining the ledges and must have escaped the witch’s notice as she had explored this section of the room.  The rest of the party had been at the other end of the sharply curved cavern-room.  Tore’s shout had brought them running though.

Three milky-white, sticky strands shot out from hidden orifices on the creature which easily struck the advancing priest and then drug him ten feet feet closer.  Jared snarled as five magic missiles streaked by him to impact harmlessly on the creature.   Kellron was then up beside him and severing one of the strands, but the eyes of the paladin were for the helpless Tore.

The roper's strands had found firm purchase on the armor but the strength sapping ability of the creature hadn’t taken effect.  Not giving the creature a chance to use more strands, Jared charged with an upraised sword.  The cut went deep and the creature half-roared in surprise and pain.  The two-legged creatures were not acting like prey.

In self-defense the roper dropped its hold on Tore and the priest and then shot two tentacles to the floor below.  The strands held firm on the ground and the creature ‘pulled’ itself to the floor below*.  It then fired a tentacle at Jared in an effort to drain the priest’s strength before the priest could strike it again.  The tentacle struck but apparently had no effect.  Tore dropped to the ledge limp and unmoving.

Jared eyed the distance between his ledge and the ledge on the other side of this lobe of the room.  Sheathing his sword he invoked a prayer to Sarath for an army of swords.  Sarath answered and the area between the two ledges was filled with whirling slashing blades hovering only three feet above the floor.**

The roper gaped in surprise.  Jared’s prayer overwhelmed its resistances and it would never be able to pull itself out of the field of blades in time.  Thinking quickly the roper threw itself flat trying to get under the slashing blades.  Ropers are not considered especially adroit creatures though and it was unable to dodge the slashing swords.  As it fell flat to the floor a dozen whirling blades savaged its body; somehow though the creature stayed alive.

Jared’s savage smile was short-lived though as he heard what sounded like a gravelly chuckle from the ledge on the opposite side of the room.  Jared and Kellron both looked across the whirling blades to see one of the giant ‘vases’ shuffle a little bit to fully face them; its giant red eye seemed to glow balefully in the flickering magical light.

The priest didn’t even have time to swear as six milky-white strands shot across the thirty feet of slashing blades.  Only five hit the priest and entwined around him, the sixth one missed.  Again, Jared was able to resist the strength draining effects of the tentacles, ut that wasn’t what he was worried about.  Without ceremony he was yanked off his feet and fell into his own invoked blades.

Jared’s faith must have been strong though, for he somehow managed to avoid every whirling blade as he mimicked the downed roper’s tactic and threw himself flat under his own barrier.  The only good thing from the party’s point of view was that the roper’s tentacles were severed by those same blades.

Kellron laid Tore down gently and ran down the side of the ledge so he could make his way across the flashing blades while Jallarzi let off a fireball.  This time she was successful in piercing the roper’s defense and the creature screamed as the magical fire ravaged its body far more than a simple fireball should have done.

The battle raged, but the tide had changed.

---

_ A couple flame strikes from a prone Jared with support from Jallarzi and Kellron once he skirted the blade barrier, and the fight was soon over.

This is another example of imperfect recall.  Looking back I clearly recall Jared casting the horizontal blade barrier and him getting yanked into it.  That was fun.    
Still, the player recovered quite well and was casting flame strike on the very next round.  It was a good introductory fight for the character._


---
_*Ropers have a 10ft movement rate and they drag prey at a 10ft rate.  So this is how I envisioned roper’s moving.  It sounded cool.

**Blade Barrier.  We messed up though.  I hadn’t read the spell description in forever and the player missed it too.  Under 3.0, blade barrier had a casting time of 1 full round; but we were assuming a a casting time of a standard action.  This would come back and bite me hard in the City of the Glass Pool.  In the meantime a horizontal blade barrier became a fairly standard tactic for Jared.  I wasn’t sorry to see the 3.5 change._


----------



## Seravin

*The Smooth Caverns – The Entrance*

_”Like the tunnel leading up to here this cavern gives off a feeling of strangeness.  Unlike the miles of tunnels and caves that you have already traversed this one is made entirely of whorled-green glass-rock.  A closer look at the walls shows you that there are thin, swirling lines of milk-white and crimson red within it, like someone had poured paint into the rock when it first cooled.  

The cavern itself is roughly semi-circular in shape with the entrance tunnel located just off center of the outer wall.  Off to your left you can just make out what appears to be another tunnel mouth.  As far as your light reveals you can see that both the inner and outer walls have a six-foot high ledge running along the length, but you’ll have to explore further to make sure that the ledge completely rings the interior.  The ledge itself is about ten feet wide and supports numerous oddly shaped pillars that stand about eight feet high.

The ceiling of the cavern is far above you and unlit by your magical lights, but those of you with keener eyes believe you can just make it out where the shadows fade into darkness.  

As you take this all in it takes you a moment to realize what makes this cavern so creepy; quite simply you cannot see one straight line within the cavern.  Examination of the walls shows that they are quite smooth and none of you can spot any marks that indicate that tools were used.  For all you know the flowing walls could have always been like this, or they were carved with a skill the likes of which you have never seen.*

What do you do?"_

---

Needless to say the party decided to explore and found that two of the pillars were actually waiting ropers.  It was a tough fight but they were victorious.  The only exit out of the cavern was the one other tunnel mouth they had found.  The twisting, curving tunnel led to many other chambers which were similar in shape, with forty-foot high ceilings and made of the same flowing, green, glass-rock.

Some chambers proved to be harmless and others were dangerous; all of them were strange.  What was even eerier was that the purpose of these chambers was completely unknown, and not a clue remained of their creators.  Well, there was one possible clue.

The next chamber was a round chamber with the pillars in here topped with seven-pointed stars.  The entirety of the glass-rock floor had been shattered and chipped, creating the dreaded razor-rock hazard.

One tendril-like tunnel opened up into a small chamber hiding another pillar, though it was stranger than the others.  After slaying the two ropers in the chamber a close examination of the pillar showed that there might be something within it – or not.  The craftsmanship was exquisite and while the shape was the same as the other pillars found, it looked as if there was trapped humanoid body within.  Jallarzi was particularly disturbed by it.  Undecided on what to do the group left to explore the other chambers.

The next chamber held a maze.  Kestral was the first to traverse it and found a stone sculpture at the center; which looked like a tree created by a master sculptor who had never seen one, complete with bloodstone ‘flowers’.  The danger of this chamber became apparent when Kestral tried to pluck one of the gems.  

A bizarre creature with a squat body and a rough, stone-like hide lunged up through the glass-rock, leaving no trace of its passage.  It had a large, gaping mouth on top of its head, with three long arms, tipped with sharp talons, symmetrically positioned around it.  Between the arms were large stone-lidded eyes.  At its base were three thick, short legs, each directly beneath an eye.**

The suddenness of the assault stunned the young woman and she stood helpless as the thing’s mouth leaned over and bit her savagely.  The teeth bit deep into her flesh, leaving a wound that would take a ten-day to heal without magic.  Fortunately her companions were nearby and quickly sprang to her defense as she retreated past the clawing arms.

The fight was short-lived even as two more of the earth-travelling creatures came up through the floor.  When it was all said and done Kestral plucked every gem off of the tree-like statue.

Steps that spiraled down into the deep darkness were next, leading to a tunnel that had been flooded to a depth of ten or so feet.  Kestral used her ring from the Water King and scouted ahead by walking upon the surface of the water.  Once again the young woman flushed out the hidden monsters.  There were two oozes swimming in the water, nearly invisible.  One of them lashed out with a psuedopod but missed, giving Kestral time to run back to her friends.  Two fireballs from Jallarzi took care of the creatures.

The group then decided to explore the tunnels using levitation, flight, and water walking.

The flooded tunnels hid three other chambers.  The first chamber was empty; the second chamber held a roper with a hide as tough as rock and the treasure of defeated explorers, including a page from a journal (similar to another page found in the grell caves).  It was the final chamber that held perhaps the most valuable treasure and the strangest mystery.

A set of steps rose up out of the waters of the flooded temple, leading up to a beach that was strewn with gems.  Not just any gems, but gems that had been worked over by a master gemcutter.  Diamonds and emeralds and rubies with an estimated value of fifty-thousand gold lions.  Before they could examine the gems of course they had to deal with the ever-present ropers though.

At the back of the chamber was a statue; a real statue and not one of the pillar like things they had seen throughout the complex.  The eight-foot crystalline statue was crafted into the image of an elf, or at least a stylized image.  The features were longer and thinner than a typical elf and the eyes were a lot wider.  The statue radiated an aura of quiet and gravity with its palms upheld before it and a look of sadness bordering on resignation on its face.  In the palm of its right hand it held a single plain stone, perfectly smooth and marked with fine blue striations.  

Jallarzi sensed more than recognized the magical nature of the statue but she couldn't identify it.  Tired and beat from a full day of exploring the group decided to rest in the chamber.  However the statue disturbed them all and Jallarzi’s pronouncement of unknown magics didn’t help.  Therefore Kellron and Jared destroyed the statue, beating on the base with their own enchanted blades until the statue fell.

Satisfied, they set up their cottage, gathered the gems on the beach, and spent the night.

In the morning Jallarzi identied the smooth stone that had been in the statue’s hand as a preventative against all forms of evil and life-draining attacks.  After a brief discussion Jared suggested that Kestral carry the stone as she was one of the weakest members who was most likely to benefit from the stone’s protection.  There was no arguement from Kestral and so it was agreed.

---
_I almost forgot.  Some of this text was read aloud to the players directly from the source material.

*This text is paraphrased from Night Below, Book II - it's roughly how I described it to the players.
** This text is paraphrased from the Monster Manual._


----------



## Seravin

*Small Caves and Speak with Dead*

Just off the secondary passage that runs between the strange glass-rock caverns and the caves of the quaggoths there is a short winding spur of a tunnel.  This tunnel winds on for almost one hundred feet before opening up into a moderate size cavern measuring perhaps fifty or sixty feet across with a ceiling height of up to twenty feet in some places.  How or why the tunnel and cave were formed is a matter left to the most knowledgeable of svirfneblin, but for the weary Imperial travelers the how was less important than its existence.  The little cave offered a defensible respite.

No one remembers who discovered the remains, but they found the nearly complete human skeleton near the back of the cavern.  The body had been savaged by repeated blows with some heavy, blunt weapon and the shattered armor it wore was completely blackened. Disurbingly, the upraised sword of Sarath emblazoned on the armor, now broken, could still be made out.

Before Kestral could completely examine the body, the pale, ghostly shade of an armored man rose up from the ground and through the remains.  The shade’s eyes were lit by a black fire and rage twisted its bloodied features.  The broken, phantom armor it wore was an exact copy of the remains on the floor.  

The fight was brief and resulted in the shade fleeing through the wall away from Kellron and his invocation of Sarath’s grace; leaving Jared shivering from the soul-numbing touch of the creature.  None of them believed that they had seen the last of the creature, but in the hopes of laying it to rest Jared and Kellron decide to give the unknown warrior last rites.

Jared had only begun the prayers when the ghostly shade attacked again, perhaps in rage against the holiness it had been denied in death.  This time however the shade attacked with the cunning of a warrior, using the walls and floor of the cavern as a shield against Kellron’s attempts to turn it.  Even still, the battle was brief and decisive.  Jallarzi is able to wound the creature with her spells and to the amazement of all, it is Kestral who delivers the death-blow to the shade with her mysterious sword.

---

Jared finished his prayer to Sarath and looked upon the remains before him.  “Speak warrior and name yourself!” commanded the priest.  

It was the next morning after their fight with the spectre, or as morning as things ever were deep beneath the earth.  Upon waking, Jared had turned to his prayers and invoked a _restoration_ spell on himself to burn away the undead’s tainted touch on his soul.  Next, after some discussion with the others, he had decided to query the remains of the fallen warrior to see what they could do to finally lay it to rest.

Blue pinpricks of light illuminated the sockets of the skull’s eyes and the skeletal head half turned towards Jared with the dry sound of bone on bone.  When it spoke the voice was hollow and breathy but gave a hint to the strong voice that it bore when it was living.
_“My name is Aerseleth, Scion of the Sundering Sword.”_* 

Kellron and Jared exchange glances.  The Sundering Sword was Kellron’s order, now defunct until Kellron could find the founding sword of the order.  As a Scion, it meant that Aerseleth was either an ordained priest or perhaps even a paladin.

Kellron nodded.  “I recognized the name.  We weren’t in the same unit, but I recall a Major Aerseleth on the rolls.  I never met the man.”

Jared paused in thought and then asked his next question.  “How did you come to die here?”

Again the skull moved with the sound of bone on bone.  “I was to fight in a battle;” breathed the skull. “but there was a betrayal and we were all scattered to the four winds.”  The skull paused, as if lost in thought or wonder.  “Then the messenger came.  The battle was already lost when it found me, but there was a new war brewing and weapons were needed.  It fell to me, the most able of the survivors, to find the sword of Pajarifan, lost somewhere in these hellish caves.”  The skeleton shivered, almost like it was cold.

Kellron was quiet.  “I’ve heard of Pajarifan.  He was an elf and supposedly a good warrior; I knew other elves that had trained with him.  He was also thought to be a bit…touched; something about protecting people from the dark things below.  Not so strange now I think.  He wasn’t a member of the order however, and I don’t know anything about his sword.”

Again Jared bent his will to the remains and asked another question, “Do you know where the sword of Pajarifan is?”

The skull seemed to shake its head with negation.  “No…or maybe.  I wandered these darkened halls for weeks.  It was cold and I was thirsty.  The clues the messenger left led me down a small passage.  Then the beast-men set upon me.  I almost held my own, but there were too many and I had to retreat if the mission was to continue.  

I found this place and made my stand.  I thought I could survive given a bit of rest to heal my wounds, but the beastmen found me again.  It was dark then, the light had died and the creatures set upon me like it was some savage game.  I took a long time to die in the dark; by myself.  If the beastmen still have the sword, then follow the tunnel to the right.”

The five companions looked at each other, a little unnerved by the corpse’s description of his death.  

“Last question, Scion of the Sundering Sword.  May we take your remains with us, to inter in the Temple of Sarath in Corlean?”

“Out of the cold?  Out of the dark?  Away from the _alone_?  Then yes, take my remains away from here.”

The party broke camp soon after.  Jared finished giving rites over Aerseleth’s body; they then wrapped his remains in a blanket and gently laid it upon one of the unused bunks in the hut.  They were not heading back to Corlean today; but when they did, Aerseleth would be given a warrior’s funeral.

Today they were going to find out what quaggoth looked like.

---
_*pronounced air-seh-leth_


----------



## Seravin

*Death and Demons*

_-Quaggoth?  Aye, I’ve fought them.  Almost as big and as mean as an ogre and furrier then a dwarf’s face.  I’ve heard them called beast-men ‘cause they look sort of like flat-faced, walking bears. –Unnamed warrior stationed at Broken-Spire Keep_

---

Days later in a cavern far away from their original home, a small horde of six young quaggoth gathered about their leader, Chuqua, the sole surviving adult of the Time of Demons.  Driven from their caves they now looked for a new place to call home, leaving signs for any surviving hunters who had managed to avoid the light-bearing monsters.

Chuqua, an older female whose dark fur was starting to turn silver was not especially clever but she was the one who kept the teaching stories for the old Thonot.  Chuqua understood that the past days of defeat called for a new teaching story if the cubs were to survive a meeting with the demons.  They would have to know how to deal with the demonic creatures that drove them from their caves. 

For now, the cavern they rested in seemed safe enough.  They had food and water and the cavern had no strange smells that warned of other creatures.  Now would be a good time to start the newest story.

Chuqua whistled and grunted softly, causing the cubs to draw nearer.  “Now is the time to remember what happened so that when the demons come again you will know what doesn’t work.”   Chuqua wrinkled her face.  It galled that the small creatures had done what years of the hooked horrors had been unable to do.

“The pack was strong; remember that first.  The hooked-arm beetle-things that went klick-klack in the darkness tested us but we repelled them at every turn, even as they grew bigger.  Only the magic of the klick-klack bug leader prevented us from feasting on them all.

“Then the demons with light came.  The warrior guards called out the alarm as the monsters approached from the hunter’s tunnel.  No warrior survied to tell the tale, but we heard the call of attack.  I was nearby and heard the sound of magic and fire.  At first I thought the klick-klacking bugs were attacking with their leader, but it was from the wrong tunnel.”

The cubs were attentive, though she could smell their fear.  Chuqua briefly cooed to them softly, giving them comfort them before continuing.

“Before I reached the cavern I saw the flickering lights of the demons; and before I could join the fight I saw the poison-air.  It formed about the demons, billowing dark and green and it covered all the warriors who still stood.  The warriors cried out in pain and then fell.  I fled for the cave of the Thonot to gather the strongest warriors.  Other warriors stood their ground and the poison-air killed them as they drew their first breath.

The poison-air chased me all the way back to the Thonot cave, but it moved slowly as it ate the life out of all the warriors who stood their ground.  I told the old Thonot all I had seen; of the flickering lights surrounding the demons and the klick-klacky leader magic they used and of the poison-air. 

The old Thonot called me coward.”  Chuqua bared her teeth at the remembered insult; “but he had not seen the magic of the demons.  The old Thonot told us to wait in the cavern and we would attack the monsters when they approached.”  Chuqua’s large, black eyes narrowed.  “The old Thonot was stupid.  He thought he could club anything to death.  He was almost right, but that was not enough.”

The old quaggoth sow trailed off in thought, remembering the terrifying moments of the fight.  “The poison-air was gone; the gods were kind enough for that.  Stupid as the old Thonot was he deserved a warrior’s death for keeping the klick-klack thing back.

The Thonot’s cave was wider than any warrior could see across, so we hid ourselves carefully and waited for them to come.  Five of them; that’s all there were.  The tallest two were smaller than me and wore the hard-clinking hide of some large bug.  The clubs they bore were thin but strong.  There were three smaller demons, barely bigger then any of you and covered only with strange, thin hides; one bore a thin club as tall as herself, another bore a club similar to the larger ones, but her own was larger still.  The third one bore a curved club that shot small spears that stung very much.  All of them were ugly and hairless.”

Chuqua fell silent for a moment counting the names of those who were in the cavern.  “Forty.”  She said finally.  She raised her paw and pointed to her finger-claws.  “This many warriors, plus that and that and that…”  Chuqua pointed to seven other paws amongst the cubs.  “We will remember the names later.”

“The fight was close.  Two of the smaller demon creatures fell and would have been food, the one that threw the small spears and the one that bore the warrior’s club.  The third small one and one of the taller ones were sorely wounded.  Maybe if all the Thonot’s warriors had been there we would have killed them and feasted for our trouble; but many warriors would have died.  We might not have been able to defend ourselves against the beetle things anymore.”

Chuqua again fell silent and cooed softly to the cubs, for her own comfort as much as theirs  “The monsters spared us; maybe because the gods would not allow the pack to die.”  She shrugged.  “There were other warriors out hunting.  They should find us soon and then we will find a place without the demons with light.”


----------



## Capellan

Nice depiction of the Quaggoth fight.  When we were playing NB, that was "yet another session of just rolling dice" ... hopefully with the 3e rules your players had a bit more chance to manouevre and have some fun with the battle.  Heck, we were so bored of combat by the time we got to the Quaggoths, we were actually trying to parley with them, but the GM wasn't having any of that talking stuff.  The campaign didn't last much longer, after that.


----------



## Seravin

Capellan said:
			
		

> Nice depiction of the Quaggoth fight.  When we were playing NB, that was "yet another session of just rolling dice" ... hopefully with the 3e rules your players had a bit more chance to manouevre and have some fun with the battle.  Heck, we were so bored of combat by the time we got to the Quaggoths, we were actually trying to parley with them, but the GM wasn't having any of that talking stuff.  The campaign didn't last much longer, after that.




Thanks.  It wasn't just a dice rolling session, though there was a fair bit of that.  By this time the PC's are around 10th to 11th level so they have far more resources at their disposal then what the module expected.  Jallarzi's cloudkill certainly helped out.  

Truth be told, my players are fairly straight forward.  Generally speaking the bad guys get one chance to parlay and that's it.  If the bad guys open up with an ambush, then that was their one chance.  They're fairly predictable that way - but every once in awhile they surprise me.  This wasn't one of thosse times though.  

I think the players had fun for the most part.  Quaggoth were less frustrating then ropers and they fell often.  Only the sheer numbers made them a threat.  On the downside they weren't worth very many XP's for the party.  A bit of a break for the players is coming up soon as they head back to Corlean.  Shortly after that a gauntlet is thrown down.


----------



## Seravin

*Down Time*

In the close confines of the portable cottage Ashimar’s presence was palpable in the air.  The memory of him was so strong that his three friends would frequently begin a sentence with “Hey, Ashimar, how about…”  They would turn to face their friend as they spoke and instead see Jared.  “Sorry, Jared, how about….”

Jared understood and would pass it off without comment or, at most an understanding noise.  Ashimar had died only eight days ago and his friends had not stopped to attend the funeral; instead commending his body to the church with his armor and weapons and dividing the rest of his gear up amongst themselves as needed.  

Briefly Jared wondered how Kestral felt about inheriting Ashimar’s magical gloves.  Kestral had reminded the others that Ashimar had agreed to give them to her if he died; but she had asked for them almost diffidently, as if embarrassed that the untimely death had actually occurred.  

Jared dispelled the thought as unworthy.  Kestral was a loyal companion, if a bit too undisciplined, and had done nothing to warrant his musings.  It was having to constantly measure up to his dead predecessor that was wearing.  If it was just a measure of warrior skill or faith, Jared knew that he was the equal or superior of Ashimar.  Friendship had to be earned though, and it was never matter of skill.

Jared took a deep breath and exhaled.  His thoughts were too dark for their surroundings.  It was the ever present darkness that brought them on.  The magical lights of the hut provided a brief respite; but it was only temporary until it was time to break camp and move on.  The nearest church was days away…

Jared stopped and pondered.  “Kellron.”  Spoke the priest.  “I had a thought.”

The paladin, sitting across the table from the priest, looked up from his work of cleaning his armor.  “What thought?”  

Kestral and Tore were playing a game of cards on one of the bunk beds while Jallarzi was sitting on her own bunk with her spellbook in her lap, surrounded by the magical trinkets they had recovered over the last few days.  All three looked towards the priest, interested in what he had to say.  The corpse of Aerseleth, bundled up on the far bunk, was completely uninterested.

“Why don’t we build a shrine to Sarath?  Right here in this cave.  If I remember the map right we’re about half-way to this City of the Glass Pool.  If we end up having to make a run back with freed prisoners it could be a safe spot.”

Kellron considered it.  “Can you do that?”  

Jared nodded.  “I can perform the consecration and the hallowing.  We just need to shape an altar, which I can also do, Sarath willing.”  He looked over to Jallarzi.  I’ll just need some supplies.”  

Jallarzi considered, but only briefly.  “A shopping trip would be nice, I just had another breakthrough and I need a few items myself.”*  She conceded.  “I’ll just need a list.”

Kestral spoke up.  “Who all’s going?”

Kellron looked around.  “I’m not ready to leave this place yet.”  He looked over to Tore.  “Why don’t you go?  The rest of us can hold down the fort.”  He didn’t say it out loud, but Tore’s recent near-death at the hands of the quaggoth had left him uncertain and perhaps a little guilty.  There was nothing he could have done, but her blade-skill didn’t measure up to his or Jared’s skill; yet Tore unflinchingly followed his lead into every fight.

Kestral shrugged, just as glad not to be tagged with the trip.  Usually she was the one who had to do the legwork to find buyers for their stuff.  Of course getting to handle all the money was nice.  She at least knew the value of every copper they spent or earned.

_It didn’t take them long to come up with the basics of the shopping trip.  Jared needed diamonds for his spells of_ restoration_; they were running low after the encounter with Aerseleth’s restless spirit as well as the spirt of a young elven woman killed by the quaggoth.  Additionally he was asking for what any normal person would quantify as an insane quantity of rare oils and incense.  It was to tie a _blade barrier_ to the shrine that would activate anytime a non-imperial citizen got too close.  

When asked if they had the estimated seven thousand gold-lions to cover the cost, Kestral looked into her magic bag, snorted and started pulling out a small pile of gems.  

“It’s covered.”  She said.  “That doesn’t include the coins or the jewelry, or that stuff over by Jallarzi.”  Being rich was nice._

--

By Jared’s estimate it was the late hours of the evening when he heard the gentle, almost hesitant, knock at the door.  The priest’s head swiveled to the door, a little stunned at the abnormally _normal_ sound.  

They kept a watch up because they all understood the dangers of this underground world, but the expectation was that any attack would be preceeded by a banging and tearing at the doors and windows.  The polite knock was out of place.

Jared stood up and reached for his sword (about half the magical lights were still going for the benefit of whoever was on watch).  A quick glance showed that his companions were still sleeping, though Kestral had shifted at the sound.  Jared strode to the door, hesitated only a moment and opened it up.  The light from the hut spilled out into the small cave beyond.

At first he didn’t see anyone; but Jared is a tall man, and so far the majority of the dangers they had faced had all been taller than him. He can be forgiven for not noticing their visitor right away.

“Ahem.”  The voice was breathy and almost squeaky.  

It was enough to draw Jared’s attention though and he looked down and started.

It…he was about halfling high and twice as skinny.  The diffident little man was completely bald and his pallid gray skin that was smudged with grime and dirt as well as something that glistened unhealthily in the flickering magical lights of the hut.  He was gaunt and what wasn’t covered by the handful of tattered rags seemed to be little more than skin-covered bones.  

The creepiest feature of the little visitor was the almost bulbous looking features and the wide, staring, bright blue eyes.  The worst feature was the smell.  A faint breeze gave Jared enough evidence that the grime on the man wasn’t all dirt.  Additionally there was a heavy, acid-like odor on the air.

Jared wrinkled his nose.  “May I…”  He paused, almost unwilling to say it.  “May I help you?”  He finally asked.

The little man blinked, perhaps for the first time since Jared opened the door.  He stared at the priest for a moment and then seemed to remember himself.  He held up a small, rusty cup that was clenched in his hand and thrusted it towards Jared.  “Do you have any roper juice?”  He asked.  “I’m hungry.”

Jared pursed his lips.  He then held up a finger.  “Wait here just a moment.”  He said as he stepped back and closed the door.  Ravening beast men, ropers, ogres, and oozes were all easy to deal with.  How to deal with a little, half-starved, crazy something-or-other was a little harder.

He walked over to the bunks.  “Kellron.  Jallarzi.  Kestral.  Tore.  Wake up.”  He shook them in turn and they all sat up, looking at him with bleary eyes.  “Sorry.”  He apologized.  “We have a visitor.  He’s asking for roper juice.”

That woke them up.  “Do we have any?”  Asked Kellron.  He was pretty sure the answer was no, but sometimes people did strange things.

Jared shook head.  “I don’t think so.”

Kestral swung her legs out of her bed and stood up in her shirt.  Around her arms were the delicate leather and silver bracers they had recovered from the remains of the elven woman they had found near the quaggoth.  “Lets go talk to him then.”

Kestral strode over to the door with Jared and Kellron in tow; the paladin grabbing his sword and shield on the way.  Jallarzi refused to get too far out of bed yet and reached for one of her wands while Tore sat up and observed the proceedings with interest.

Kestral opened the door and started down at the curious little-man.  There was something familiar about him, but hunger and grime so obviously deformed his features it was impossible to tell what he was.  

“Hello there.”  Said the courier, bending down to one knee.  “Can we help you?”  

The visitor thurst his pitted metal cup towards her.  “Do you have any roper juice?  It’s sweet and goes good on the white fungus.” 

Kestral shook her head kindly.  “I’m afraid not.  Can we offer you some food instead.”

The little man nodded.  “Anything but the orange, fuzzy fungus; it’s not ripe yet.”  He looked to his left, though there was nothing there.  “No roper juice today.  Poor me.  Poor us.”  Kestral glanced back a Kellron who seemed pretty disgusted by their visitor.  

Kellron shook his head but moved over to their pantry and started digging out some of their dried rations.  He made a mental note to have Jallarzi get some fresh food on her trip tomorrow.  He handed the little food bundles to Kestral who then handed them to their visitor.

“I’m Kestral.”  She introduced herself.

The little, ragged beggar took the bundles and sniffed at them curiously, apparently not recognizing them as food.  “I know.”  He said.  “It told me so.”  The little man held out a grime crusted hand.  “You can call me Vog.”  His gaze started to drift.  “Vog, vog, vog.”  He sang.  “My name is Vog.  I remember, but my pet doesn’t.”  He giggled and then reached out to pet the air to his left.

Paladin, priest, and courier froze at the door.  

Jared recovered first.  “Who told you her name?”  He asked carefully, trying not to startle the little madman.

The bright blue eyes turned to look at him.  “The song did.  It’s always singing.”  Vog spoke slowly as if to a silly child.  His kindly demeanor changed to something that seemed almost conniving.  “It tells me things.  Secret things that only me and the song knows.”  He cocked his head and looked off into the cave again.  “Well, and my pet too, but it doesn’t sing.  Not like me.  Vog, vog, vog, vog vog.”

 Kellron’s hand shifted on the hilt of his sword which he had very carefully picked back up.  “Does the song tell you anything else?”

“Of course it does.  It says you’re coming, but that you mustn’t.”  Vog shook his head emphatically.   “You must not come any further.  Stay away.”  

With that warning Vog gathered the food packages closer to himself and stepped back.  He then spoke an arcane word and disappeared.

Jared moved past Kestral and into the cave.  With the flat of his blade he probed the air where Vog had been standing; nothing.  “That can’t be good.  He turned to look at his friends.  “Any idea what he was going on about?”

His companions shook their heads.  “Huh.  Let’s go inside.”  

As Jared shut and locked the door, Kestral spoke up.  “Does anyone else smell something burning?”

--

_*This occurred after about a year of real-time in playing (and six months of game-time) and folks were just making 11th level after the quaggoth fight.  Specifically, Jallarzi was a sorceror1/wizard10 and was finally starting to feel the bite of it.  After some discussion, I allowed her to convert her sorceror level to a wizard level, so she gained her sixth level spells at the same time as Jared.  

The in-game reasoning was that her sorceror skills had atrophied – she hadn’t been using them much anyway.  I was a little sorry that she did so; but not at all surprised.  If I had to do it again I would probably suggest the conversion to a bloodline feat from UA instead._


----------



## Seravin

*Shopping Interrupted*

Geoffrey Windemere looked mournfully towards the stout wooden door of the small, stone cottage.  He was sitting, as ordered, on the hard wooden chair in the corner of the room with the large round table blocking his direct path to the door.  Not that it mattered, for the ‘outside’ of the cottage was underground; deep underground according to the smaller woman who was smiling cheerfully at him.  The dark-haired young man wished he was somewhere, anywhere, else.

The smaller woman, called Kestral by her friends, was sitting easily in the chair next to him.  She wasn’t anything special to look at; her drab brown hair was a medium length and when pressed later he would be completely unable to recall the color of her eyes.  Of all his captors though she was the friendliest, and her clothing was in the style of a middle-class shopkeeper in Corlean.  Not so the others.

The witch/sorceress/wizardess/whateveress who had brought him here was now sitting cross-legged on one of the bunks in the back of the cottage.  Before her were a handful of ivory plaques and she was playing with something, maybe a ring, while she quietly chanted.  The elegantly dressed woman had been enraged to find Geoffrey following her and her companion. With a word and a gesture the woman had frozen him in place and then magically transported them all to a dark place.  Only when the woman’s shout had brought her companions out of the cottage with flickering torches had Geoffrey realized they were in some sort of cave.

The slight, blonde-haired warrior woman, Tore, was sitting on the bunk closest to him and Kestral.  She was sharpening her sword – which was nearly as long as she was tall.  Geoffrey couldn’t believe that she could effectively wield the massive blade.  He was uncomfortably aware that there was a bundle on the bunk above her that looked suspiciously like a body.

Then there were the men, or soldiers rather.  The two men had all the bearing of the stuck-up officers that lorded over the common folk of Corlean.  Both wore plate armor bearing the upraised sword of Sarath and their hands went easily to their sheathed swords when he had arrived.  Neither man sat during the interrogation and both had made it clear that they were ready for any tricks.  Geoffrey envied them with a spite he could scarcely describe and only the direness of his own situation kept the emotion from showing.

Kestral cleared her throat, gently capturing his attention.  “So, this Radik told you to follow Jallarzi and Tore?”

“Uh, yeah.  But I didn’t know their names.”  He looked between the two women sitting on their respective bunks.  “No offense.” 

The blonde smiled slightly and nodded.  The hairs on the back of Geoffrey’s neck rose and he shivered.  He looked back to Kestral.  “I wasn’t going to do nothing.”  He protested.  “Radik just wanted to know where they went.  That’s all.”

“Why?”  It was more command then question, and it came from the one they called Jared.

Geoffrey’s head snapped towards the man.  “I don’t know.  Sir.”  He added belatedly, but  obviously no one believed him.  “I really don’t know!”  He protested.  “It’s probably something Father Dark wants, but I don’t know.”

The other man, Kellron, raised an eyebrow.  “Father Dark?”  He asked mildly.

Geoffrey paled, he had said too much.  “He’s just somebody that Radik knows but he doesn’t want anyone else to know.  I don’t know who he is.”

Kellron’s level gaze bored into the young man, but he didn’t say a thing.  

Geoffrey started to sweat.

“I suppose we have one other question.”  Said Tore.  “What do we do with the young man now?”  To Geoffrey it sounded like the woman’s calm voice was suggesting some sort of casual violence.

“We could keep him with us.”  Suggested Kestral brightly.  “We could use a torch-bearer.”

Geoffrey gaped.

Jared nodded slowly.  “It could do him some good.  We could set the example he obviously never had.”

Casual violence was starting to sound better to Geoffrey.  

“Are you sure?”  Asked Tore.  “He doesn’t look like he has much experience with weapons or armor.”

Geoffrey wanted to point to Tore and vigorously nod, desperately wanting them to hear what the blonde was saying.  Instead he sat quietly trying to look helpless.

Kestral blithely ignored him.  “I said torch bearer.”  She explained with mild exasperation.  “I wouldn’t expect him to fight.  The ropers and quaggoth would eat him alive.”

Kellron had been observing Geoffrey during this exchange.  “What do you want?”  asked the Sarathian soldier.

“I want to go _home_.”

“If we take you back to Corlean, we’re going to turn you over to the Watch.  I’m sure they’ll find whatever you have to say interesting.  If you stay with us you can work off your crime.”  Kellron’s deep voice was patient.

Geoffrey didn’t have to think more than two seconds.  Days or weeks underground with monsters versus being taken back home.  Home won without a second thought.  “I want to go back.”  He insisted.  Following people wasn’t a crime; at most he would spend a few days in jail and he would then be released.

Kestral shrugged, obviously disappointed.  “All right, if you’re sure.  Jallarzi can take you back in the morning”

---

Jallarzi finished her spell-casting later that evening and pulled Kestral aside outside the hut.  Once out of earshot from Geoffrey, she passed Kestral the heavy ring given to her by the Water-King.

“I didn’t get much.”  She apologized.  The wizardess then recited the snippet of vision revealed by her _legend lore_*:  “The son of the Water-King is bound beneath this earth in a glass city.  He serves within the home of the Sea-Mother.”

Jallarzi shrugged.  “Jared said the Sea-Mother might be a reference to a water demon named Blidoolpoolp.  That’s all we have right now though.”

Kestral smiled.  “It seems obvious that the glass city is probably the City of the Glass Pool though.”

“Probably.”

Kestral nodded and patted the adamantine short-sword at her side.  “Are you still up for divining Thereval tomorrow?”

Jallarzi smiled.  “Of course.  After I get back from turning our spy over to the Watch and finish up the shopping.”

---

_*This was a real surprise for me.  To this point Jallarzi's player had been choosing pretty straight forward spells.  I think Legend Lore was her first divination spell outside of the cantrips.  It was cool seeing her take it though, and over the next several levels she forced me to come up with the occasional on-the-spot poem/rhyme/hint._


----------



## Seravin

*Hallowings and Lore*

_The south-eastern most cavern of the complex marked the ‘The Grell Caves’ contains a tall, vari-colored pillar which detects as strongly magical.  From this cave take the south-eastern tunnel and travel for a day.  Travellers will find a wide intersecting tunnel heading in a northerly direction.  The map describes the tunnel complex leading to ropers and quaggoths.  Travellers can camp relatively safely in a side tunnel located almost two miles north of the intersection.  From there it is another full day’s journey to the new shrine.

Where the north tunnel splits to the east and west, take the eastern fork and travel for about a mile.  On the north wall, at eye level, is Sarath’s mark next to a non-descript looking tunnel.  The tunnel is tight but passable for a fully armored man and winds about through a hundred feet of rock.  Beyond is a cavern that can easily camp sixty or seventy people.  

I’ve formed the altar out of the rock on the north wall and laid a powerful warding to keep it from being descecrated.  In anticipation that it would be used as a way point for guiding rescued captives back to the surface, the altar is keyed to only allow Imperial citizens approach safely.  All other creatures or beings will cause the_ hallowing _to invoke a horizontal_ blade barrier _about three feet up from the ground, and filling the cavern out to forty feet in front of the altar.  Allies are advised to lure or force opponents towards the altar without actually getting close themselves.

                                                  ---Excerpt from Jared’s report to Colonel Megara._

---

Jallarzi was again sitting in her usual place on her bunk, this time with Kestral’s mysterious blade in her lap.  Laid out before her were a handful of specially marked ivory plaques arranged in mystically powerful arrangement, whilst thin streams of incense smoldered in a bowl sitting on the floor next to the bunk.  The young wizardess’ eyes were closed as she murmured low chants designed to clear her mind and open it to the arcane echoes that hung about the adamantine blade in her lap. 

Then…_connection_.  Jallarzi’s eyes snapped open, revealing wide violet orbs.  Her pupils were reduced to pinpricks and the whites were completely gone.  Jallarzi sucked in a deep breath almost like she was in shock, taking in more incense as well as whatever arcane knowledge the air bore.

Her friends looked towards her with interest.  She had come back late in the day with the remaining shopping items and had reported success in turning over the young Geoffrey.  While she was gone Jared and Kellron had finished their shrine, leaving Kestral and Tore to entertain themselves.

Upon returning, Jallarzi hadimmediately set to the task of trying to identify Kestral’s blade.  Now it seemed as if they would finally learn something about its history.

Jallarzi slumped suddenly on the bunk, her vision over.  She shook her head and blinked quickly, trying to bring tears to her stinging eyes.  Taking a few quick breaths, Jallarzi laid the blade on the bed, swung her legs over the side, and stood up and stretched.  Collecting her incense, she snuffed it and brought it over to the table where the others sat.

Jallarzi took a drink of water that Jared offered and stretched some more, more trying to get comfortable then drawing out the courier’s anticipation.  Settled, the wizardess looked to Kestral and repeated: _The Song of Angels lays shaped and bound.  Deverat is not what he was – sleeping._

Kestral looked blankly at Jallarzi then at Kellron and Jared.  Jared and Jallarzi shook their heads.  The name and title didn’t mean anything to them.  Kellron however rocked back in his chair.

“Deverat is what General Linnatch named his sword.”  Seeing that the others didn’t understand he continued.  “Deverat, the Song of Angels, is also the Sundering Sword.  _The_ Sundering Sword.  It’s the sword of my order.”

He looked to the blade resting casually on the bunk.  He stood up and walked over to it, picking it up when he reached it.  The weapon was a short-sword, a blade given to a peasant army, though the adamantine metal of the blade bespoke of its true cost.  In his large hand, the blade was almost a large dagger.

“Do you think this is really Deverat?”  He asked, not quite believing.

Jared reached out and gestured for it.  “Let’s find out.  If it’s an enchantment of some sort, Sarath will let me break it.”

Jared began his prayer once he held the blade.  It was a long prayer, but it proved successful.  At the end of his invocation, streamers of silver and gold energy began to surround the blade and the entire room filled with the sound of war drums.  The streamers became brighter and the priest had to shift his grip as the blade grew both longer and heavier.  The war drums changed to a single, male voice chanting a slow paen in some celestial tounge.  

Then the light was gone and the room was quiet.  The friends looked at one another and then to the blade in Jared’s hand, not sure what to do next.  The sword took the initiative.

*:Free!:*  It spoke in their minds with a gladsome baritone of a voice.  *:The dreams are over thanks to you young priest; my humblest of thanks.:*

Jared nodded his welcome.  “It was my pleasure…Deverat?”

*:Aye, that is my name now.  I fought in the First War and sung the war chants for Sarath.:* There was pride in the voice.  *:I fell in subsequent battles and my spirit was reforged into a blade.  Now I advise the followers of Sarath.:* 

Deverat’s voice turned grim.  *:I was to sing and remember the valor of General Linnatch at the battle of the Silver Way, but treachery betrayed us.  It was the wizards, or at least some of them.  They turned on us and scattered the army.  I tried to defend the General, but the attack was from surprise and they had studied well.  

The general was slain, though he gave a good accounting of himself.  I thought I might have a chance to overwhelm the will of one of the betrayers, but it wasn’t to be.  They used their magics to bind me and render me unrecognizable.  After that I slept.:*

In their mind they could almost see an image of Deverat; a visage of a tall, armored warrior with dark hair and bright blue eyes filled their minds.  The image smiled kindly and seemingly turned to Kestral as it spoke again.  *:You woke me lass, and for that you have my thanks.  Your attempts to activate the magic touched my mind and brought hope to my dreams and for that I thank you.  It was an honor to serve at your side, and I hope to continue to do so.  It gladdens my spirit knowing that you continue on this quest unasked.: * The gratitude and affection in the words was palpable.

Kestral stared at the blade, emotions warring across her face.  Unsure of what to say she said nothing.

Kellron finally found his own voice.  “So what now, Deverat?”  He asked.

The sword couldn’t shrug, but they felt it anyway.  *:That is up to you, Field-Captain.  I owe the lass a debt of gratitude and it would do her much good to be paired up with me.  At the same time I know that General Linnatch would like the order to live on, which is through you.:*  The tip of the sword seemed to drop a bit in Jared’s hand, like a drooping head.  *:In this incarnation though I am just a sword, not the weilder.  I will call the war chants, give you advice, and stay as sharp as your faith is strong; how I am used though is up to you.:*

Kellron looked to Kestral.  She threw up both hands.   “It…He was in my _mind_?  Uh-uh.  He’s your sword.  You need him for the order.”  Kestral wanted nothing to do with the blade.  It said it was an angel.  The coin dies in the bottom of her pack suddenly seemed much heavier. 

Kellron nodded, not quite understanding why Kestral so readily gave up the honor of bearing Deverat, but thankful for it.  “It’s settled then.”  He said, reaching for the blade.  “I guess we have some catching up to do.” 

*:Certainly.:*  Said the blade.  *:Though I know much from the young Kestral’s mind when she touched mine.  Be sure Kestral that I will continue to look after you to the best of my ability.:*  Deverat seemed unaware or perhaps just uncaring that the woman had rejected him.

Kestral kept her mouth shut and tried very hard not to think of Imperial coin dies for the rest of the evening.


----------



## Seravin

Concerning the last post, I was thinking of playing around with the telepathy fonts.
I don't really like bolding the text and I tend to use italics for a lot of everything else.  That just leaves colored fonts - but not everyone's display settings shows color equally.

Do any of you folks have a preference on how telepathic thought is represented?
Italics? 
Bold?
Colored?
Leave as regular text?
Don't Care?
Something Else?

This could almost be a poll.


----------



## Capellan

The bold text works fine for me.  I wouldn't use italics (you use it for other stuff) or colors (as they are a pain to BBcode all the time ... though if the blade doesn't talk much they might work OK for you).


----------



## Seravin

Thanks for the input, Cappellan.  I think I'm going to try colors next.
The next update is short, but there's more coming soon I hope.


----------



## Seravin

*Horrors*

_Eight thin, spindly, silver-colored legs picked their way across the rough tunnel floor.  Instead of some cave spider however, the legs were attached to well-polished, palm-size rock crystal.  Someone well versed in witchcraft would be able to identify it as a witch’s psi-crystal; the methodical, slow steps and the color of it’s psi-crafted legs would further identify the personality as one of the softer ones.

She (for all psi-crystals share the gender of their progeniator) was not exactly a happy psi-crystal however.  :Save the cat but not rock.: grumbled the crystal to herself.  :I can see into the hearts of men, and all the cat does is clean herself, but I’m the one picked to scout ahead.  What happens to Tore if one of those roper-things eat me?:

There was a distinct mental sigh from the crystal as she picked her way across the rock strewn floor.  Behind her was Tore, her otherself, and their companions; ahead were bug things that were strong enough to give the quaggoth pause.  Still she forged forward because it was important to her mind-mate.  

As a reflection of Tore’s insight, the crystal was not oblivious to why she was ahead scouting.  Tore was trying to impress Kellron with her competence in sword-play and soldiering; unfortunately that wasn’t where her strengths lay.  Meanwhile, Kellron seemed interested in Tore but wasn’t making any advances.  The crystal hadn’t quite figured out why that was so.

The motivations of the others were easier but less interesting, if only because Tore cared less about them than Kellron.  Kestral was hiding some secret, but was so adept at concealing her feelings that it was hard to tell the magnitude.  Jallarzi was friendly enough, but her focus was almost exclusively on her magic.  In many ways Tore was most like Jared, as he also was trying to prove himself to this new group.

*SKREEEAAAAAAKKK*

The sound stopped the psi-crstal in its tracks.  It was an ugly sound of something hard scraping against stone.  The stone rocked backed on her spindly legs and strained outwards with her senses.  

She had barely registered the creatures on the ceiling when all three of them dropped down to the ground, blocking her way forward.   Instinctively the crystal gauged the creature’s posture and stance.  The conclusion was easy.

:They want to eat me!:_

---

Tore inhaled sharply and swiveled towards the tunnel her crystal-self had gone down.  “Trouble.”  She warned.  “She’s coming back with three…no…two of the beetle things.”

Kestral was already pitching her light amulet towards the tunnel mouth and Jallarzi stood up from the rock she had ben sitting on.  

It was only a few seconds before the scrabbling and squawking of the the pursuing creatures became audible, and only a few seconds after that when Tore’s crystal came into sight, followed by the…horrors.

The two creatures, each almost ten feet tall, scrabbled forward on sharp talons that scraped against the rock floor.  The creature’s beetle-like carapaces ranged in color from dark-gray to midnight blue, and were covered with sharp, bony protrubances.  Instead of having wide beetle mandibles though the creature’s heads were like that of a vulture with a sharp, tearing beak.  Finally, the creature’s grotesquely distorted forearms looked to be of solid bone or horn, ending in ugly looking hooks. 

All of the Imperial’s understood now why the she-quaggoth had called the things ‘horrors’.  The realization didn’t make them hesitate however.  As Tore’s crystal scrambled behind her mistress for safety, both Kellron and Jared stepped forward with blazing swords drawn.  

The fight was short, but it gave them a quick estimate of the creature’s skill.  Jared and Kellron attended to their wounds and the five of them headed off down the tunnel.  The crystal had reported three of the creatures initially, but only two had followed her.  Chances were that the third one was warning its friends.


----------



## Seravin

*Vignettes of Death and  Horrors*

The bodies of the fallen quaggoth were gone, even the ones that had died by Jallarzi’s poisonous cloud.  No one checked, but only the spattered gore of the battle and the lingering odor of Jallarzi’s spells gave evidence that a battle had taken place.  The Imperial adventurers stayed on their guard, having been warned of the creatures that laired in the caverns further back

The quaggoth-sow the adventurers had questioned did not know where the horrors had come from; only that the creatures had arrived before one of the surviving middle-sized quaggoth-cubs had been birthed.  The horrors had captured the far caves and now defended them bitterly; only occasionally raiding the quaggoth held caves.  The raids were becoming more frequent however, and the warriors whispered that there were more horrors now than before.

Based on the quaggoth’s tale the adventurers proceeded cautiously, calling up spells of strength and protection while sending Tore’s spirt-crystal ahead to scout.  So it was Tore’s crystal that first saw the things that they came to call hook-horrors; great beasts the size of ogres, that looked like someone had tried to fit a beetle and a vulture onto a small giant and then replaced the arms with great hooks of bone.

Tore’s spirit-crystal was faster than the horrors, but only just.  She made it to the waiting adventurers barely ten feet ahead of the pursuing horrors.  The horrors charged into the cavern unheeding of the light and the sensed occupants; hook horrors are not very bright.

The pursuing hook horrors ran straight up to Jared and Kellron spoiling for blood; their flailing hooks smashing into the imperial blades with such force that lesser blades would have shattered.  Jared and Kellron met the rush with strength and fortitude and let the horrors waste their initial attacks on the enchanted blades.  Both warriors took their hits in the fight but their skill was enough to keep them from being seriously injured while they set about butchering the horrors.  It was soon over.

*<fast forward a few minutes>*

Farther down the curving corridors, well past the quaggoth caverns as well as the haunted cave where Jallarzi had picked up her new elven boots, the adventurers meet the first horde of hook horrors.  The corridor opens up and branches to the left and right, disappearing into larger caverns, with a shallow alcove before them.  The horrors drop from the ceiling and walls, blocking the adventurer’s way.  

The party tactics are excellent. Jared invokes a _blade-barrier_ to trap one grouping of hook horrors in the wide, shallow alcove.  Jallarzi then fills the alcove with a _cloud kill_.  Meanwhile, Kellron steps up to the left-most group to forestall any charges while Tore and Kestral turn to the right.  Kestral uses her bow to try and discourage any charging, while Tore flexes her will and sends out a stunning wave of mental energy into the closest group of horrors.

*<fast forward a few seconds>*

The fight is all but over and last two surviving horrors break and run down the right-hand tunnel, making high pitched squealing sounds as they run; banging their bone hooks against the walls and floor.

The adventurers give chase, unwilling to let the creatures go.  The five friends skid to a stop once they realize the new cave has another dozen hook horrors.  There’s no good way to flee so the decision is to stand and fight.  Most everyone excepting Jallarzi is hurt, but with luck and care they know they can take this new group of foes.

*<fast forward a few seconds>*

Tore has stunned a handful of horrors while Kellron and Jared are fighting back another grouping.  Kestral is taking advantage of the stunned of horrors and is dealing as much damage as the two warriors.  Jallarzi is laying down _ice storms_ and _magic missiles_.

There’s the sound of a male voice chanting over the sound of combat and then the entire cavern is lit with white-hot flames.  Kestral uses the body of one of the horrors to shield herself from the dancing flames.  No one else is as lucky, but they’re all still standing.

No one sees the source so Kestral throws out her light amulet to try and illuminate their foe.  She succeeds, revealing a tall, regal looking human, dressed in black velvet robes.  He is flanked by two of the biggest hook horrors any of them have seen.  The man sneers daring them to do their worst.

Jallarzi tries.  She’s already invoked a spell of _haste_ so she lets off a swarm of _magic missiles_ at the newcomer and then centers an _ice storm_ over him.  

There’s no visible effect.  The missiles disappear as soon as they touch and the storm rages about the man with no more effect than a mirage.  Only the reactions of the larger hook horrors show that the _ice storm_ had any effect at all.  The wizardess snarls and readies her next spell.

The tide of battle has stalled and certain victory is gone.  Now it all rests on the edge of a blade.  Kellron and Jared are unable to break away from their opponents, leaving the women to protect their flank.

Then the newcomer invokes a second _fireball_ with a lazy gesture and the same invocation.  Again the cavern is lit by flickering flames, and Tore goes down with a strangled cry.  Everyone knows that the witch is dead.

One of the larger horrors flanking the newcomer charges Kestral, and the courier is the next to fall as its sweeping boon hook catches her and throws her to the ground.  Kestral falls to the ground with a grunt, the pain knocking her unconscious as blood begins to seep into her lungs.

Jallarzi begins casting, invoking a summoning spell.  She has many choices but she settles upon a swarm of thoqqua, burrowing worm-like creatures from the Fire Realms.  Her conjurations place the creatures between Kestral and the horror looming over her and intercepts another charging horror coming straight at the wizardess.

Ravaged by both hooks and fire, Jared and Kellron both invoke Sarath’s healing in their own ways.  Within seconds they are whole with only the their blood spattered armor and weapons showing that they’ve been fighting.

*<focus shift – The Ruhk>*

The rakshasa ruhk, Ameretat Agnimukha, was not native to this damp, stinking place.  He was the heir-apparent to the Vale of Serene Pain, located deep within the Screaming Jungles.  Two of his siblings already lay dead by his hand.  The death of his youngest sibling would prove that he was capable of defending the security of his new throne by dealing with any possible succession issues.  Eventually he would have to deal with his own litter of cubs attempting to assassinate him, but that was centuries away.

His young brother had fled to this stinking realm, hiding beneath the ground like a cowardly worm.  It had been simple enough to track him here, but the tunnels were seemingly endless and the roaming beasts were nearly as dangerous as himself.  A few close encounters had conviced Agnimukha to pause and consider building a new army.  Using magics unseen in this realm, Agnimukha took a beetle colony and ‘grew’ them into ravening monsters.  It had taken years for them to reach full size, but what was time to one such as him?  Soon his hook-horrors would be ready for the infusion of fiendish energy and then they would find his brother.

Then the quaggoth were killed; all of them. The slaughter was worthy of any of his kind, but it irked Agnimukha for he had hoped to sacrifice the quaggoth as part of the next ritual.  Now the slaughterer’s had returned and were showing that even his pet creations were not up to the task of defeating them.  

Two _fireballs_ later and the charges from his most favored pets brought Agnimukha’s confident smile back as the two women fell.  The priests gave him pause for a moment as they healed themselves, but all of these slaughterer’s seemed to accept his own human-guise and the only one who bore a readied bow had just fallen to his pet.

Then the three thoquaa appeared about his pet standing over the woman.  The things lunged at the hook horror and burrowed through its armored hide as easily as they bored through stone.  The second pet, heading to the white-haired wizardess, was checked by a fourth thoquaa and was likewised attacked by the fire-worm.

Agnimukha snarled and briefly thought about offering these slaughterer’s a bribe, but it wasn’t time yet.  He would have to show them his strength first.  The opportunity presented itself as one of the human priest-warriors charged him, while his companion charged the horror moving towards the wizardess.

_Perfect._  Thought the rakshasa.  _The human will find that its blade is insufficient to harm me.  I can then negotiate from a position of strength._

“Sarath!”  Yelled the human as he charged Agnimukha with is flaming blade held high.  

The rakshasa almost dared the human to hit him.  He didn’t recognize the danger until the blade was already sinking into his flesh.  The blade sang and the blade burned as it met his blood.

“I am Deverat, hell-spawn!”  Shouted the enchanted blade.  “Back to the abyss with you!”  The adamantine blade glowed with a pure, holy light, outshining the radiance of the flames.*

Agnimukha scrambled back, black blood streaming down his side and fear in his eyes.  Where had the human gotten that blade?  The blade had been missing for centuries.  He invoked a spell of blurring to help hide him and wondered what he was going to do next; perhaps dispel the enchantments on the blade – if he could.

It didn’t matter.  The human stepped forward and swung three times, invoking Sarath’s name each time.  The first swipe missed.  The second stroke nearly ended Agnimukha’s life right there.  The third swipe seperated Agnimukha’s head from his body.  As he died, Agnimukha's disguise melted away revealing his tiger-like head and fur covered body.

*<focus shift – The Good Guys>*

Jallarzi, Jared, and the thoquaa swarm finished off the two largest hook horrors and then moved on to kill the stunned hook horrors.  Meanwhile, grieving over Tore, Kellron move to Kestral side, verified that she was still alive, and poured a healing potion down her throat.  

Once Kestral was conscious, Kellron moved to help Jared and Jallarzi with the remaining horrors, but he needn’t have bothered; the pair had the creatures well in hand.

Afterwards they gathered up Tore, searched the remaining caverns, and found a treasure horde worthy of any duke – including a talking sword that introduced itself as Finslayer.

---

_*+2 Adamantine, Holy, Evil Outsider Bane Longsword (amongst other things).  The first attack did only 17 points of damage.  The second one did 30 as he used Smite and Divine Might.  The rakshasa’s remaining 5 hit points didn’t last long._


----------



## Seravin

There were three things that I remember pretty clearly when prepping for and running this session (from the capture of Gregory forward).

Hook Horrors had just been converted (Monsters of Faerun I think) and had been upgrade from 5HD to 10HD.  Given the party's capabilities I decided to use the 10HD version with some trepidation.  Their low Will saves made them easy targets for a 10th level telepath with Psionic Blast.

I was also looking forward to the rakshasa fight.  One of the things I had to decide was how to deal with its Change Shape power; it could no longer disguise itself as a hook horror.  I settled on the human form because I couldn't think of anything more appropriate.  I certainly didn't want to have it appear as a rakshasa - Jared's player would have immediately known what to do and could have made the Knowledge check to justify the knowledge.  Nor did I want to handwave it and let it appear as a hook horror.

The surprise was when the players pulled out a _legend lore_ on Kestral's sword right then.  As soon as they cast the spell (_break enchantment_ I think, but they had a _dispel evil_ prepped just in case) I realized that the rakshasa was going to be a cake-walk.  Sometimes players do exactly the right thing at the right time.  <sigh>

As for Deverat, the sword had originally been designed with Kestral in mind and was suppose to a reasonable match for Finslayer when they recovered it (Finslayer comes out as a +9 sword, Deverat is +10).  At that time there was an entirely different backstory for Deverat when I first wrote it up.

I had talked a bit of it over with Kestral's player after the fact to flesh out some plot points - and discovered that she was uncomfortable with what was essentially a gift; one with strings, but there you go.  

It was fairly easy to change Deverat's history and tie it in to Kellron's already open plot hook.  At the very least it was an weapon on par with Finslayer and would allow Jared and Kellron to choose who got which weapon (though I was betting that Kellron would accept the sword).

Still, the fight with the hook horrors was fun.  The party had to stretch themselves to win, and it looked close for a moment.  It was also the last bit of mindlessness that they got to indulge in for awhile.  

The next session they had to deal with a...messenger of sorts.


----------



## Imruphel

Seravin,

I've read all your posts over the course of a single day. I can't tell you how much I have enjoyed your write-ups. Keep up the great work!


----------



## Capellan

I for one appreciate the GM asides as well as the story posts.  They provide an interesting insight into the game.


----------



## AsEver

> It was also the last bit of mindlessness that they got to indulge in for awhile.




Oh yes, we got on to more interesting things than trudge, trudge, trudge, KILLKILLKILL, trudge, trudge, etc.  By the time we got done with all the politics and intrigue we were crying "I wanna to go back underground!"  We were heartily tired of the city and wanted to get back to something simpler.  Back to trudge, trudge, trudge....


----------



## Imruphel

Capellan said:
			
		

> I for one appreciate the GM asides as well as the story posts.  They provide an interesting insight into the game.




Likewise. I also really enjoyed the sidetrek/subplot involving the Water King's ring. I think Kestral's player is doing a great job.


----------



## Seravin

Imruphel said:
			
		

> Seravin,
> 
> I've read all your posts over the course of a single day. I can't tell you how much I hav enjoyed your write-ups. Keep up the great work!




Imruphel, 
Thanks and welcome to the story hour.   
I haven't updated as much as I would have liked, but I'm working through it.  There's still a long way to go.

I'm glad folks like the DM notes.  For me they serve two purposes: They close any gaps in my updates, and they help explain the player and DM rationale to potential DM's.


----------



## Seravin

*Conversations*

Excerpts from *“Conversations with the Edge of the Blade”*

_Scrivener’s Note: The sword known as Finslayer speaks quickly and to the point; with an impatient-sounding baritone.  Oddly, its voice is aloud though there is no ‘mouth’ for the sword to speak from.  It (the sword) is quite fixated on its goal of finding and killing the creatures known as kuo-toa.  Fortunately for its weilder the blade is quite intelligent and seems to grasp the realities of its weilder storming an entire city of degenerate fish-monsters (kuo-toa).

As for the source of its intelligence, not even the blade can say.  It does not seem to be elementally powered, or as in the case of Deverat, to contain the spirit of an angel.  Regardless, it is fortunate that the blade seems mostly unharmed from its three-hundred year exile in the underground caverns.

Finslayer will speak at length and with fondness of its previous weilder, the elf Parjarifan and will go into excruciating detail of how it and its weilder sliced, cut, and diced numerous kuo-toa.  No doubt a fisherman would be able to appreciate Finslayer’s favorite filleting techniques.

Finslayer has five traits that stand out clearly.  First, is its hatred of the kuo-toa.  It is Finslayer’s mission to kill these fishmen and continue its previous weilder’s mission.  Second, is Finslayer’s confidence in itself; the sword is incapable in believing that it will fail.  This relates to its third trait, a heightened sense of superiority over all that have so far held it.  Fourth is its complete inability to consistently use the correct gender pronouns; he, she, and it are used interchangeably by the sword.  Finally, Finslayer takes a certain pride in itself, calling out ever so slyly the perfection of its silver and gem encrusted hilt; as well as the emerald studded scabbard that Parjarifan gifted it with.  If one can get over or work with these traits then Finslayer is a very pleasant entity to talk with._

---

<Second Excerpt>

“Jared?  She’s a good enough fighter, and he can only get better with my advice.  Jared is no Pajarifan though, he was my first weilder, but Jared has some moves and the whole priestess thing works out.  It’s a good thing he’s a priest of the war god, eh?

I have to admit I wasn’t so certain about it the first time I met him.  Sure he and her companions did pretty well against the bug things and the rakshasa; but its not like they took on a whole city of the things.  Instead, after the fight they take their dead person and hightail it back to a cavern and begin to pray.  Can you believe that?  

I was disappointed, but I soon discovered that Jared’s praying means a lot more than my praying.  To be fair I hadn’t seen him in action before that.  So she prays in front of the altar looking for answers, and I’ll be nicked if he doesn’t get them.  

Jared found out all sorts of things. Things like his friend’s building in that little town was apparently in trouble.  They also discovered who had been magically spying on them; some person named Father Dark.  That’s a stupid name by the way.  It seems that they had met Father Dark while she was unmasked; a Grandal-something-or-other.

More interesting, to me at least, was that their map indicated the lair of dragons.  If Jared and its friends could take on the dragons then I think they could be ready for the City of the Glass Pool.  

They also learned that some person named Jelenneth was alive, as well as the majority of the kidnapped people they were looking for.  And that the son of the Water King was in the City of the Glass Pool.  Not that I cared, but anything that leads to the City is good.

Oh yeah.  Jared also got permission to bring back two people to life.  I nearly illuminated myself when I understood that.  The dead person they had collected, Tore was his name, and some corpse they had found who had been dead for years.  That’s when I started to suspect that Jared might get us some dead kuo-toa.

The real proof was when Jared called up an angel.  Not many people can pray that hard.  It’s name was General Markon, one of the Intercessors*.  She and Jared talked for awhile.  Seems that Jared was doing a reasonably good job so Markon agreed to bring back Tore and Aerseleth.  If an angel approves of Jared, then it seems like maybe I should too.  

Jared doesn’t get this for free though.  Markon tells Jared that in return she’ll have to take responsibility and protect Aerseleth and Tore by enchanting their armor.  Jared steps right up to that task and promises to do it at the first opportunity.  That’s what I like about Jared, she has no problem stepping up to volunteer.

That done, Markon begins praying of his own, in that weird sing-song chant that Deverat uses when he wants to say something I won’t understand.  Sounds nice if somewhat snooty.  The only thing that happens, besides the dead waking up, is Jallarzi claims to notice a scrying sphere while the angel is singing.  She dispelled it pretty quickly.  I wonder if whoever was looking through it saw Markon though.  

Given what happened later that night though I think that whoever was on that other side of that sphere did see the angel."


_*Planetar. When Jared's player said he wanted to summon one it threw me for a moment.  I had to look it up to verify it was legal.  Then I had to figure out some fluff around it all.  I settled on a Knowledge Religion check (DC 15+HD) to recall the name of a Planetar suitable for calling.  Jared recalled two names, General Markon the Intercessor known for providing information and healing, and General Arvon of the Celestial Host, a fierce combatant of the fiends.

Jared's player didn't abuse the ability as much as he could have.  He was also really cool about looking for alternative means of payment.

For my part I eyeballed what he was summoning or trying to do and then tailor each task to cost as much.  He got a True Res for Tore and a Ressurrection for Aerseleth so in return he was tasked in creating two sets of magic armor.  I choose the armor enchantment since he had the feat.  He agreed without a quibble and I think put more money into the creation of the armor then was called for.

Looking back I would have preferred making some additional non-core angels instead, such as celestials with class-levels.  It would have taken a lot more up-front effort though.  I wouldn't do that until much later though. _


----------



## Seravin

*The Messenger*

_As a Factor for the Lordan Trading House in Corlean, Ker Gales Bourin is a sober, responsible man who takes his duties seriously.  As such, when Ker Bourin was approached concerning the rental of a certain vacant property owned by the Lordan family, he did his research.  It took only a few inquiries to discover that the potential renter was of impeccable reputation and means.

Ker Bourin was quite pleased to report to the Lordan family that he had rented their property out to Sir Kellron of Broken Spire Keep to be his domicile while in Corlean.  The rental was at a good price and Ker Bourin was certain that it would reflect favorably upon the trading house.

The only catch was that the real Kellron of Broken Spire Keep knew nothing of the rental If he had found out about the transaction, the knight doubtlessly would have been in turn surprised, suspicious, and finally righteously indignant.  _
---

The fifteen room mansion was located in the Merchant Ward of Corlean, just two blocks east of Latina’s Cathedral.  Over the past week a number of carts had arrived at the mansion carrying various sundries for the new renter for when he was in residence.  

Despite what the paperwork said, the newest renter was not Sir Kellron of Broken Spire Keep.  Nor was it one Imgard Cadrim, a minor merchant and smuggler, even though several clues would lead straight to him.  It would come as no surprise to those familiar with the circumstances that the person responsible for the actual rental and the subterfuge was Ker Grandal Deverex.

On this particular evening Grandal Deverex found himself in the basement of the mansion, which had once served as an extensive wine cellar for the previous occupants.  Now the wooden racks were rudely shoved up against the far walls and a ten foot diameter circle made up of polished, black, ceramic bricks dominated the center of the room.  Each rune-carved brick joined snugly with its neighbor such that at first glance no seam was visible.

Next to Grandal stood Imtithal, the guard and confidante of Grandal’s and Quereth’s newest business parter, Aruk.  Imtithal was here in a special advisory capacity this evening.  The two men were regarding the now empty calling circle in silence, keeping their thoughts private.

In his own mind, Grandal was reviewing each step that had brought him to this place; every deal and every lie.  He had started with his own plans of assassinations and blackmail; but it was Imtithal who had discovered that Ashimar, the Sarathian squire, had inadvertently given up his soul.  More importantly Imtithal had discovered the name of the renegade wizard who had claimed it; a man name Severik.  Grandal recognized the name as belonging to wizard of importance who served on the Library Council, but he could not say if this was the same wizard or one using an opportune alias.

According to Imtithal, Severik had planted books of temptation throughout the Empire, ostensibly to find like-minded apprentices.  What the recipients were never told was that upon their death the reader’s souls would be forfeit to the renegade.  Severik did not say what he would use the souls for, but Grandal could guess.

In addition to providing the information to Grandal, Imtithal had offered to introduce him to the half-mad renegade wizard.  It turned out that the cost of a soul was surprisingly cheap: only several thousand gold lions, two items of moderate magical power, and the need for a bath after the meeting.

The next need was for a messenger; something that would cause Kellron to deviate from his quest.  Something the paladin couldn’t ignore.  Again Imtithal had a suggestion, something from the Realm of Shadow.  In return for supporting one of Aruk’s schemes Imtithal had even provided a name as well as the calling spell.  Grandal agreed and received the name, Granok.  Imtithal had even provided knowledge on what the creature would find as an acceptable bargain.  

Recognizing that his need for revenge was driving him and not the other way around, Grandal took his time before the calling. Risking insanity he used his strongest spell to pierce the veil of Shadow to inquire into the nature of this Granok and the veracity of the name.  The answers pleased him.

Next he found and aquired this mansion as the place for calling in case anything untoward happened.  There was a bare possibility that it could be traced back to him, but only a sufficiently suspicious person could do so, and even then only with magic.  

The calling and the bargaining was now over and Granok was on his way with the message that Kellron wouldn’t ignore.  The creature had teleported to a nearby cavern that Grandal had scried before with his viewing crystal.  He had given the creature a charm that would point the way to Kellron for a little while.  Soon he would find his prey and deliver his message.

It was possible that Granok would kill the field-captain and his friends, but Grandal doubted it.  There was no doubt that Granok was formidable in his assumed form, but his daily scryings had shown that Jallarzi’s and Jared’s magics were far stronger then he had initially believed.  The summoned creature he had glimpsed them summoning earlier today had proven that.  He wasn’t sure what it was but Imtithal had let loose with a string of foul-sounding words upon its description.

No.  At best Granok would kill one, maybe two of Kellron’s band; but even if he failed so much as to wound the paladin, Granok would bring Kellron back to Corlean; with Grandal’s money.  

The half-elf businessman allowed himself a smile.  All was going better then he had expected.  Soon he would have his money back, Kellron’s reputation and life would be in tatters, and he could get on with running his business.  As a bonus he had gained more information on Imtithal then the man expected. 

The foreigner kept his abilities quiet, but his intimate knowledge of the magical community as well as knowledge of names from the other realms betrayed what he was.  It was obvious that Imtithal was a renegade wizard himself, most probably a conjurer.  Grandal had already started making inquiries based on that.  Hopefully he would soon have a better idea what game Imtithal and Aruk were playing.  He still didn’t trust either of them.

Beside Grandal, Imtithal remained quiet with only a slight smile betraying the satisfaction the man felt.  All was proceeding on schedule.  Tomorrow he would report to to Quereth all that had occurred this evening.  Quereth’s reaction to a report of reckless spending, dealing with suspicious contacts outside of the city, and other unreported activities would doubtless widen the rift between the two men.  That division could only help Aruk and Baron Roth, and by extension, himself.


----------



## Seravin

*The Message*

*The Place:* 
A Sanctuary of Sarath, deep beneath the earth somewhere near the border of the Duchy of Larence.

*The Time:* 
The 32nd year of the Emperor Jaz’aldrin.  Winter’s first month, the last week (late November).

*The People:* 
Field Captain Kellron, bearer of the Sundering Sword
Captain Aerseleth Carathun, Scion of the Sundering Sword
Lieutenant Jared of Sarath, Scion of the Victorious Dragon, companion of Finslayer
Tore Daergan, Witch and Inquisitor for the Chuch of Latina
Jallarzi, Library Journeywoman and a woman not to be trifled with
Kestral Threndy, Mediator, Herald, Imperial Scout, and Agent at Large*

*The Situation:*
A quiet evening following a morning of miracles.  Kellron and Jared are bringing Aerselth up to date near the altar of Sarath.  Across the cavern in their magical hut, Jallarzi is quietly studying to find a way to use her _haste_ spell on everyone.  Tore and Kestral are cleaning up after the meal and quietly chatting about inconsequentials.

*Then, from the mouth of the tunnel leading into the cavern…*

“Jallarzi?  Are you there?”  The called out question was plaintive, almost a cry, and just loud enough to be heard within the hut some twenty feet away.  

Across the cavern, about sixty feet away near the altar, the three soldiers in Sarath’s service stood up from the chairs they had taken from the hut.  The faint voice echoed weirdly in the cavern but they could hear pain in the breathy-sounding voice.

“Kestral?  Are you there?”  Again the voice called out.  “Someone?  Please?  I’m in trouble.”

The hut’s door opened suddenly, flooding the area in front of it with light.  Kestral and Jallarzi stood in the doorway with Tore behind them, peering into the darkness.  They couldn't see him until he spoke again.

“Jallarzi.  It’s me.  Ashimar.”  

All three women orientated on the sound of the voice, located in the shadowy darkness just beyond the flickering magical light of the hut.  Kellron, almost halfway back to the hut, stopped with a stunned expression.  Jared and Aerseleth followed suit.  Jared at least knew of Ashimar though he hadn’t met the man.

It was hard to tell in the shadows, but he did look like Ashimar; there was something wrong though.  All of them felt it and it made them suspicious.

“Ashimar?  Is it really you?”  Called out Jallarzi

“It is.  I was…away.  I’m back now, but everything feels different.”  His voice was lower and more breathy, like he was in pain; but they all recognized it.

Jallarzi frowned and glanced at Kestral.  Kestral returned the look then and then stepped out the door with the wizardess following closely behind.  Instinctively the women maintained about ten feet of separation once they were out in the open.

Ashimar stepped forward, closer to the light and his features were revealed.  It was their friend, right down to the clothes, mithril chain shirt, and the rapier he had died with; though the items had been cleaned and repaired.  

There were differences however.  Ashimar’s skin seemed darker, like he had been smudged with soot; and this made it harder to make him out.  His movements were at once familiar and strangely odd – more fluid. 

“Jallarzi?  It’s me.  You recognize me, don’t you?”

The wizardess frowned, not quite sure what to do.  Colonel Megara had told her that Ashimar couldn’t be brought back.  “Come closer, Ashimar.  Into the light so we can see you.”

The rogue took a hesitant step forward then stopped.  “It hurts.  It hurts too much.”  He looked at the wizardess with blackened eyes.  “Can you help me Jallarzi?  Please?”

By this time, the soldiers had moved up to the hut.  The situation was tense though and everyone was usure what to do.  Suspicion told them this was a trick, but every sense they had said this was Ashimar.  

It was Ashimar who broke the standoff first.  With a half-snarl of rage, he drew his rapier with reflexes far greater then he had ever shown before (even with his magical gloves – which Kestral was now wearing) and charged towards Jallarzi.  He crossed the twenty or so feet with an easy lope and slashed at the half-elven woman.  Jallarzi was unprepared for the sudden attack and Ashimar’s blade bit deep.

“You’re going to die!”  He yelled.  “I’ll kill you all!”

Jallarzi stepped back and dropped an _ice storm_ on the not-Ashimar.  Chunks of ice battered at her attacker and he snarled and stepped back.  Annoyed, he dug into his pouch and pulled out a bottle.  He tore the seal off and drank the contents quickly, his wounds healing as he drank.

Kellron was the next to act and he drew his blade as he charged forward.  That’s when the shadows rose up shifting around the not-Ashimar and made him almost invisible.  Kellron’s first attack missed due to the shifting shadows that seemed to crawl _through_ the light to protect their attacker.

Tore tried to make contact with their attacker’s mind as Kestral dug out her light amulet and tried to illuminate the area around their attacker.  Jared and Aerseleth both drew their own swords (though Aerseleth’s was just recently borrowed) and tried to strike down their shadowy assailant, but their attacks also missed.

Recovered, Jallarzi followed with a fusillade of _magic missiles_, and stared as the missiles harmlessly fade away in the eveloping shadows.

not-Ashimar snareled again and gestured towards the half-elf with his free hand.  In Jallarzi’s mind, the assailant started to grow taller and took on a fiendish cast.  She felt the fear rise up and then she mastered it with a sneer.  The sneer faded as she saw the wounds on the shadowy-man contine to heal.

Tore finally focused on the man’s mind and let loose with a burst of psychic energy but he shook it off with no apparent effect.  Kestral drew her own sword and moved into a flanking position, determined to help.

Kellron, Jared, and Aerseleth contined hacking at their opponent, trying to find a way past the protective shadows.  It was Kellron who managed to get the first blow in, with a shouted cry to Sarath.  

Whoever this sorcerous man was, he was as fast or faster then Kellron’s dead friend, and just as hard to hit – even without the shifting shadows.

Jallarzi’s next barrage of _magic missiles_ pierced the shadowy veil and struck the man squarely in the chest.  

He cried out in pain and a look of panic began to dawn.  In retaliation he concentrated briefly and spoke a blasphemous word.  A burst of darkness spread from him, blighting the souls of Jallarzi, Kellron, Jared, and Aerseleth.  Oddly, Kestral was able to resist the worst of the word.  The word could have stunned them all, but fortunately for them it did not.

Jared struck the next blow, wondering perhaps if he should strike to wound but deciding against it.  Their opponent’s blade skill was good, but his ability to speak an _unholy blight_ made him something to dangerous to let live unless he was willing to surrender.

The man was oozing blood, but even still he was healing.  Not troll-fast, but fast enough.  Between that and his own fighting skills he managed to survive the attentions of three trained soldiers for several more seconds.  

Surprisingly it was Kestral who managed to strike the next blow.  She was out of position though and unable to take full advantage of the tricks Ashimar himself had taught her.  Her blow was enough to distract the man for Jared to lay down the killing blow however.  

All told the fight took less than a minute.  Perhaps even half of that.  Jallarzi was hurt the worst between the man’s cowardly stab and the blighting word.  Everyone else had managed to avoid any serious harm.

They all traded looks with each other and a glance at the rapidly cooling body.  It still looked like Ashimar, though the shadowy cast had left his skin and features.  No one seemed to doubt that this was the body of their friend – though none could say what had possessed him to attack them like that.  

“I want to know who did this.”  Spoke Kellron.

Jared moved towards Jallarzi to provide healing.  “We’ll find out.”  He promised.  “In the morning.”

---

_*I just noticed that Kestral’s player is the only one that provided a last name for her character. _


----------



## Seravin

Take one dead player character.  
Apply the half-fiend template and the shadow template.  
Change clerical domains to Evil and War.
Arrange the clerical spell list to taste.

As the players soon found out, the possessing spirt was Granok, a shadow fiend that possessed their friend and was 'hired' to attack them.  I chose the half-fiend template to represent a demon-controlled corpse.  The shadow template was for flavor.


Granok didn't last long and most of the damage he did was due to surprise more than anything else.  If he had more sneak-attack he might have killed Jallarzi, but then he wouldn't have had any pre-cast clerical spells to protect him.  Still, the fight probably didn't last more than eight or nine rounds.

Ashimar's player knew something was up before all of this.  I had talked with him briefly to make sure it was all right to make Ashimar part of ongoing plot.  This was their first introduction to it.  

There's a quote I remember: "First, you have to get their attention..."
In this case, their attention was got.  Their initial reaction was all that I hoped for.  After that it got a little strange.  

Fortunately for me I was working on a loose calendar of events.  Some events were scheduled to happen at certain times, such as the attack by Granok.  Other events were subject to Schrodinger time - in other words they would happen when the players began to look into them.  That turned out to be the best approach.


----------



## Seravin

*Intermission*

Stealing the corpse of an enemy’s friend, filling it with the spirt of a demon, and then sending it to attack the enemy can only invoke fury in your enemy.  That was Grandal’s intent when he stole Ashimar’s body out of Sword House’s crypts.  He wanted Kellron, Jallarzi, and Kestral filled with a righteous, unthinking anger.  In that he succeeded, though he would never know.

The reactions of Ashimar’s friends were all that the rogue half-elf hoped for.  Their anger built slowly throughout the night as they considered their slain friend.  They were intent on finding out who had done this to Ashimar and taking their well-deserved vengeance; and Father Dark was at the top of their suspect list.

Jared, Tore, and Aerseleth were also angry but in their case it was less personal, beyond a violation of the church they held so dear.  

If they had all been in Corlean when this had happened they would almost certainly have taken off after Grandal then and there.  Perspective changes from a hundred miles away though.  Exhausted after invoking a herald of Sarath, resurrecting two friends, and then fighting their fallen comrade, they settled down to rest instead of teleporting directly to Corlean.

The new morning brought a fresh outlook and their white-hot anger cooled to a dull burn.  Justice and vengeance would be theirs, but only after careful planning and information gathering.

Before they left their sanctuary, Jared bespoke the spirit of Ashimar’s corpse.  The possessing demon had left an imprint in the young priest’s body that yielded to Jared’s questioning.  

It named itself as Granok and indicated that it had been given Ashimar’s body by a wizard named Father Dark.  Another wizard, Severik was responsible for brokering the deal.  The remnants of the spirit provided nothing else of value.

It was enough though.  The demon had named its summoner and from the previous day’s _commune_ they now had confirmed the idenity of Father Dark.  So they laid their plans.

Transportation for the six of them is difficult, but not impossible.  They decide to split into two groups and make their way to the surface separately.

Jallarzi teleports Kellron to his inn in Thurmaster, so he can assess the damage.  The flame-licked walls and the smoke-stained interior leaves the paladin feeling cold.  Bandits had raided the town again, just eight days prior, and tried to put the inn to the torch.  Kellron’s guards had managed to drive them off, but not before the inn had caught fire.  Repairs were underway but the damage tore at the time-displaced warrior.

Meanwhile, Jared invoked a _wind-walk_ for himself, Kestral, Tore, and Aerseleth.  They sped through the wide tunnels quickly and soon made their way to the surface.  From there it was a quick flight to Corlean.  

By evening's end they were all in Corlean and meeting with Colonel Megara.  The good Colonel was very unhappy and authorized Kellron and Jared extraordinary powers to track down proof of Grandal's wrong doings.

And that's when things went very different from Grandal's expectations.  Kellron and his allies did everything but investigate Grandal.


----------



## Seravin

Just when you think you'll know what a party will do...

The idea was that the demon's attack would lead the party back to Corlean.  They were as fully annoyed with Father Dark as I wished them.  But as they started making plans to head back to the city, other obligations got in the way.  I had a couple contingency plans setup in case of an immediate attack, but was relying mostly on that the party didn't have any physical proof of Grandal's crimes.  

Ashimar was indebted to create armor for Tore and Aerseleth.  Jallarzi wanted to research a spell and they all had a shopping list to fulfill.  Of them all, only Kellron had nothing to keep him occupied - except Tore that is.   

So they took a time out and I let the timeline advance.  Grandal could only reliably observe Kellron, which the group had figured out.  So Kellron spent tim with Tore in various non-descript places, keeping themselves out of trouble and out of sight until everyone else was ready.

Two additional things happed in Thurmaster to Jallarzi and Kellron that I didn't touch on.  The first is that the surviving bandits had been driven to the swamp to the south and had disappeared.  The guards had lost the trail of the bandits; but they had found signs of lizard-men in the swamp (which is unnaturally warm for the region).

The second is that things came to a head with Jallarzi and Tauster.  
The old mage finally figured out that his location had been outed and correctly assumed it had something to do with Jallarzi.

It would have been nearly impossible for Jallarzi to have smoothed things over with the wizard; for Kellron it was far easier since Diplomacy was a class skill.  He got the old mage to sit down and talk with them and they found out that Tauster had been in hiding for several years now, afraid of a threat from a more powerful wizard in the Library.  Kellron smoothed things over and Jallarzi apologized.  Afterwards they were friends again.  I think this was the first time that I realized that Kellron's Diplomacy score was so high.

I also learned that I had pushed Kellron's player too far by attacking his inn for the second/third time.  After this he lost complete interest in the inn.  If I had a do-over I would have said that the guards were completely successful in driving the bandits off without a bit of harm to the inn.  Live and learn.



Finally, I've been wanting to touch on how _commune_ worked in the game because Jared wasn't shy about using it. 
Essentially the gods can provide answers to anything that relates to their portfolios, the portfolio's of their allies, and the direct experience of their priests.  In particular, Sarath knew Grandal's identity as Father Dark, because Ashimar's  body was defiled by Grandal and referred to as Father Dark.  Quereth's involvement was completely unknown though.


----------



## Seravin

If anyone is interested, I have a map of the northern 3/4's of the Empire.
Found http://www.alaska.net/~bradac/shtara.jpg.

I'm still learning CC pro, and I haven't figured out how to make a jpg of just a select portion of the map, but it should be readable.

I still have to play around with it some more, but it might give an idea of where the party is.  The scale isn't that big.  It's only about 250 miles from Corlean to Kalta


----------



## Seravin

*Ten Days*

One Imperial week passed.  Plans were made, money was spent, obligations were met, and expectations fell short.  

Colonel Megara lays out that she has was given permission to raise Ashimar but was unable to.  Somehow he has been prevented from coming back.  Further his bier in the temple crypts still holds an illusion of his form.  Whoever had stolen Ashimar’s body had a fair amount of magic at his or her disposal.  His friends nod amongst themselves and plan

The combined coins, gems, and magical items recovered out of the depths of the night below made the small group some of the wealthiest individuals in the Empire, if counting only portable wealth.  Kestral knew that Corlean would be unable to absorb the wealth or allow them to convert their newfound coins into more portable forms.

Jallarzi uses the Library Gates to take her and Kestral to the island of Overdorn, the trade isle located off the coast of Kalta.  Overdorn is one of the largest and richest cities of the Empire and is the hub of trade with the Shaylar Islands.  The sea-going elves bring the riches of the world to Overdorn and Empire buys them.  

Once on the island, Kestral begins converting their wealth into gems, and then purchases items of power that her friends had requested.  

Jallarzi had made mention of aquiring the circlet of an arch-mage so Kestral found the Circlet of Baeravan*, recovered from some Kerian tomb and now at auction.  After Jallarzi verifies the power of the item, Kestral hands over a number of large gems.​
Jared had asked after a ring of protection, a scabbard of an ever-sharp blade, and a dozen lightning javelins.  These things are easily found and aquired.​
For herself, Kestral makes inquiries and came up with a location, the Ereskian monestary of the Perfected Self, located on the western slopes of the High Mountains.​
Jallarzi spends her remaining days researching a better _haste_ spell that will allow her to affect all her friends at the same time.  During this time she finds out that Master Asuras, the head-master of the Corlean Library and advisor to Duke Hilmaron had taken ill.  Consumed with her researches she pays it little heed.

Jared disappears into Sword House for the entire time.  Locating the best armor available for Aerseleth and Tore, the priest immediately begins his vigil of prayers and spells.  He is determined to meet his obligation to General Markon and do his part to protect their allies.  He spends long days working on the armor and the spends his evenings in meditation.  

Aerseleth Carathun meets with the clergy of Sword House, reads up on the histories of the last two-hundred years, and tries to acclimate himself to this new time.  Normally it would be his duty to lead the quest that Kellron has taken on, but Kellron bears Deverat and is the scion of the Sundering Sword.  Aerseleth feels more than a little lost and wonders how he will ground himself in the new now.

Kellron being the focal point of the near ever-present scrying sequesters himself within and about Sword House, keeping a low profile.  He tries not to be anywhere recognizable when the ever-returning scrying orb shows up.  His only constant companion is Tore Daergan.  She started out keeping an eye on him in case the magical spying led to an ambush.  However, Kellron soon begins to court her.

Towards the end of the week Jallarzi picks up Kestral from Overdorn and brings her back to Corlean.  Not content to just wait around, Kestral checks on her new little sister, Erica, and finds that the girl has apparently disappeared.  Erica's newest step-mom was killed under mysterious circumstances just a few weeks before.

Kestral meets with her friends and then takes on the guise of Semina again, intent on joining Father Dark’s organization.  Jared agrees to check up on her with a _sending_ every evening.  It takes Semina only a day to find a likely and lucrative job at a gaming house called the Blue Gorgon.

On the last day of the Imperial week, Kellron and Tore decide to wait at Broken Spire Keep while Kestral investigates.  From there they can perhaps be useful to the members of the Keep and stay out of Kestral’s way.  Jallarzi teleports them there.

And Ker Grandal Deverex?  Grandal made mistakes.  Kellron doesn't appear to be underground any longer, but he cannot determine where the man is.  He spends his time and resources trying to pinpoin the paladin's location.

On the eleventh day Jared is given a message at Sword House for Kellron.  Not recognizing it, but being suspicious the priest reads it, just in case.  The paper is crisp and the handwriting is neat.

_To Field Captain Kellron, of the Sundering Sword
It has come to our attention that you might be looking for something; as valuable as a dear friend and boon companion perhaps.  We understand you were just recently reminded of it and wish you much luck in finding what you seek.  

We wish we could help you in your searches, but the most we could offer at this point is a chance to aquire Hyla’s luck.  If you were a betting man and were to engage in a game of chance perhaps you would catch her eye.  If you could show the lady what you were willing to sacrifice, it may be you would find what you seek.  For something this valuable you would probably have to sacrifice as much as seventy-fve thousand golden lions, but what is gold compared to those things we hold dear?

Sincerely yours,_

The letter is unsigned.

---

_*Headband of Intellect +6 - see next post._


----------



## Seravin

Tenth level is when I think the players begin to start becoming movers and shakers.  Now they can begin travelling where they will - or at least know about.  
Further they have the cash to start buying what they like; though keeping the treasure the same in this module certainly help in that regard.  After selling items and buying what they want, the group was still able to easily meet the extortionate 75,000gp.  Which was calculated by figuring what they taken from the Blue Diamond earlier and then tripling it.

The problem for me was that I had always envisioned my world as relatively low magic.  I didn't want magic to be pervasive.  In retrospect I wanted a magic level similar to Eberron's; where low level magic was available but the high level stuff was rare at best.  At the same time the party had tons of cash to blow and tons of low level magic items that they weren't going to use.  I decided to throw some of my preconceptions out the window.

To appease myself though, I settled on a new purchasing scheme.  I told the players that Gather Information was their friend.  If they wanted to find an item, they just had to make a Gather Info check vs. a DC equal to 20 +1/1,000gp value of the item.  They could take 20, but it would take them 20 days.  Alternatively they could always commision an item, but they would have to find a willing and available crafter with similar rules.

I would later alter the rules somewhat to favor clerics and wizards within their own organizations.  A Knowledge Arcana or Knowlege Religion check would substitute for a Gather Info check within the appropriate ogranization to find a crafter.  I wouldn't make that change until much later - when I realized that the party thief had better contacts in the church and Library then the actual members.
For awhile I also tried to limit who would talk to Kestral, but in retrospect that was probably a mistake.

I'll note that by this time Kestral has a Gather Info of around a 20.  I don't have her character sheet from that time, but she maxed the skill, had a fair number of synergy bonuses and a decent charisma.  She also used the little hand mirror every shopping day to get her Eagle's Splendor fix.  tsk.  

It was cake for her to find a Headband of Intellect +6 and the new rules didn't slow her down.  In the end all it really did was allow her to shine in her medium and give me a rationale for when/where/how magic items appeared in the game.  Not the best of rules, but an adequate compromise.


----------



## Seravin

*Responses*

_Colonel Beka Megara opened her soul and loosed a string of martial-sounding syllables that were part command and part supplication.  The gray-haired woman’s brow was still shining with the wetness of the purified water she had anointed herself with, but soon that water would give way to sweat.

Before her was the message that Jared had received for Kellron.  Next to the message was a list of questions that she and Jared had decided to ask.  Hopefully one of the Intercessors would be able to answer them.  Then, the clear, clarion call of a battle march told her that she had been answered and the messenger had arrived.

The small, private chapel of Sword House melted away and the colonel saw herself standing on a grassy plain, the Plain of Rememberance where a grave was dug for every fallen Imperial soldier.  The raised mounds of the shallow graves disappeared into the distance in all directions.  The sky above was gray but the air was warm.  Before her was one of the Intercessors, the planetar, General Markon, clad in celestial armor._

<Ask your questions, Colonel>

Concentrating, the priest-cleric focues on the desk that she knew was before her real body and began to speak.  

“Intercessor, is the message that Jared read and gave to me a trap for Kellron?”

<That is not clear>

“Will Grandal Deverex be there?”

<If it is a trap then Grandal will be there>  This was an odd answer and more words than the Intercessor’s usually gave.

“Does the message reference to an item of value refer to Ashimar’s soul?”

<Yes>  Emphatic

“Can the writer actual deliver the soul?”

<Yes>

“Did Grandal Deverex write the message?"

<No>

“Did Grandal Deverex instruct someone to write the message?”

<No>

“May we bring the person bartering Ashimar’s sould to justice?”

<Yes> Emphatic again

“Was Ashimar subject to a plot by Grandal Deverex?”

<Yes>

“Is Kellron in danger from Grandal Deverex?”

<Yes>

“Is Kestral Threndy in danger from Grandal Deverex?”

<Unknown>

“Is the journey-mage Jallarzi in danger from Grandal Deverex?”

<No>

“Is Tore Daergan in danger from Grandal Deverex?”

<No>

The strain of the communion was finally too much for the colonel.  Saluting, Beka saw the plain shatter, revealing the small dark chapel again.  Her last image of the Plain of Rememberance was of the Intercessor's grim, but strangely beautiful face.  She felt as if she had sprinted to the South Gate of Corlean in full armor, something she could still do if she had to.

Lieutenant Jared was standing patiently off to the side, waiting for her to recover.  The colonel considered that it was perhaps time for a promotion for the young man.  His faith was unquestioning and strong and tempered by a wisdom than many older people had yet to attain.  That was for the future however.  Now she had to discuss with him what had been relayed to her.


----------



## Seravin

The message was one of the fluffy-ish pre-planned events.  Essentially I gave the players time to take care of some of the things they wanted to accomplish.  Once most of it was accomplished I started making Gather Info rolls for the people.  The day after there was a success the message was delivered.  It just so happened that Kellron and Tore had left that very day.

Jared didn't have a _commune_ prepared that day so I let him make a request of the good colonel.  The party had been good to this point so I allowed it at no cost, but I made the group write out their questions beforehand.  More accurately, they dictated their questions and I wrote them down.    

I insisted on writing out the questions based on the spell description that the cleric doesn't get to hem or haw and I was going to strictly go by that.  Writing down the questions would give them the time to discuss their questions and what they knew beforehand.  That sort of thinking works for me, I'm not sure how well it worked for them.


----------



## Capellan

We play commune much as you did - prep the questions in advance or risk losing the spell early due to delays.  In complex situations, we'll often have a couple of different strings of questions threaded out ("If we get a 'yes' here, ask this, otherwise ask that.")

I'm still enjoying the SH.  It makes me want to pull out Night Below and try to make a workable adventure out of it


----------



## Seravin

Depending on what's going on, we'll also map out different strings.  I really like this approach as both a player and a DM, because we usually involve everyone in what to ask and how; as well as thinking about the different possible answers.

I may be biased, but I think the set is already a workable adventure.   
Of course I have added a few personal touches and the players have been great.


----------



## Seravin

*Moving into Position*

Kellron received the _sending_ just before lunch at Broken Spire Keep.

_We have a lead on Ashimar.  Return to Sword House today.  Jared_

_We’ll return after lunch._

Lunch was nice affair of roast fowl.  Afterwards Kellron and Jallarzi teleported back to Corlean.  Tore stayed behind to keep an eye on Broken Spire.  

What none of them realized was that a spy was already riding towards Corlean to let Father Dark know that Field Captain Kellron had come home.

---

Semina is a relatively common name in the Duchy of Larence.  It was one of the reasons that Kestral picked it for her cover identity.  Semina was also the best suited to get her into the places she desired.  Beth was known to Grandal and Aeva was too physically direct.  Semina was a people person though and willing to follow the local rules.

It took only a few days for Semina to track down a possible job at the Blue Gorgon.  The Gorgon is a gaming house that serves the gambling middle-class of Corlean.  Unknown to most is that it‘s owned by the Holtson family.  Because of its somewhat poorer clientele the Blue Gorgon is not normally known as a high-stake gambling house.  It is known for its pretty and slightly-dressed servers.

Unfortunately for the Blue Gorgon a few of its servers had fallen sick recently, some even disappearing, just as management brought in some new advisors.  Thus, Semina found that the Blue Gorgon was desperately looking for some additional serving staff.  Normally the plain looking woman wouldn’t have met the high standards of house, but the young woman had an undeniable presence and they were desperate.

Semina’s only instructions were to show up on time, use more makeup, and that if she was nice to the customers, then more than of few of them would tip her more than she could earn in a week.  Semina smiled prettily, clapped her hands, and made the hiring manager feel like he was the most important person in her universe.  She had a job.

---

By evening’s end Kellron, Ashimar, Jallarzi, and Aerseleth had agreed to meet the demands of the note.  The next evening they would head to the Blue Gorgon and begin the process of losing money; though none of them was happy with it.

Jared’s _sending_ to Kestral that evening revealed that she had been hired at the Gorgon.  No one commented on the odd coincidence of Kestral finding a job at the very place they were about to meet an extortiante demand.  Instead they counted their luck and hoped for the best.  They were all hoping that Grandal would show up, make a mistake, and allow himself to be hauled away to justice.  

Later events would show that is almost what happened, though not quite the way anyone would have guessed.


----------



## Imruphel

Hey Seravin,

I'm continuing to really enjoy your posts. Being greedy I'll simply finish with, "MORE PLEASE!!!"


----------



## Seravin

*Gambling*

On this cold winter evening of the last month of the year, Ker Stev Orundol is a happy man.  Things are going quite well for Ker Orundol who also happens to be the manager of The Blue Gorgon.  

On the one hand this dark-haired middle-aged man is employed by one of the wealthiest merchant’s in Corlean, Ker Quereth Holtson.  Better, his stock with Ker Holtson is rising while the star of his chief rival, Ker Deverex, seems to be falling.  Conceivably in a few months Ker Orundol sees himself as Ker Holtson’s senior lieutenant; especially if he does well in the current tasks.

Which brings us to the other hand, which is currently in equal favor.  Ker Orundol has a second, secret, employer – Father Dark.  To date Ker Orundol has done nothing to risk his job with Ker Holtson, nor has he been asked.  Instead, the Gorgon’s manager has passed on useful bits of information to Father Dark and has even distributed certain information on request.

Four days ago Father Dark personally asked Ker Orundol to take on three advisors who were furthering a money-making scheme currently in the making.  These swarthy-skinned ‘advisors’ were remarkable in that they nearly identical-looking brothers who had just recently come south through the pass with Baron Roth’s contigent.  

Normally this request would have made Ker Orundol nervous, but Quereth Holtson had standing orders to make as many contacts as possible with anyone of means or title.  Stev Orundol was able to pass on that he was doing Baron Roth a favor by allowing observers on his premises as a precursor to perhaps opening up business opportunities in the north.  Thus he was able to serve two masters.

Stev Orundol would be greatly surprised to know how he was being played by the current events.  Fortunately for his peace of mind he was blissfully unaware of how central he was to certain dark and ugly plots.

----

The carriage drove up to The Blue Gorgon and slowed to a quick stop.  The four sweating horses hung their heads in fatigue.  The source of that fatigue was apparent when the carriage driver opened up the door and three large men stepped out, followed by a white-haired woman.

All were dressed in elegant finery, though their taste in clothing and jewelry was haphazard ad seemingly eclectic.  Each of the men was large and in fit condition.  While they didn’t wear armor they each bore a sword with the familiarity of long use, and they had a presence and bearing that said they were field soldiers of some sort.

The woman was a white-haired half-elf wearing a striking blue dress with a silken, black cloak and bearing a crystal-topped staff of some white wood.  Her taste in jewelry was as equally eclectic as her companions but like them she wore it like it was Imperial regalia.

The four companions looked at each other and made their way up the stairs of the gambling house to the front door, ignoring the curious onlookers.

---

Ker Orundol was on the floor supervising when the four people entered.  Balraj, the oldest of his ‘guest advisors’ had shown him their pictures and had named each.  Unforunately neither Balraj nor his brothers were here this evening.  No one had thought that these four would be here so soon.

No matter.  Ker Orundol moved smoothly through the crowd with an unflappable smile.  “Welcome to the Blue Gorgon.”  He greeted.  “Are you here for a game of chance perhaps?  We have several excellen tables…”  he started to sweep his hand towards the back of the house when he was interrupted by the youngest man.

“Can we just hand over the money now and be done with it?*”

Orundol stumbled to a stop.  He wasn’t expecting that.  “I’m sorry…?”  He asked, somewhat confused.  In broad terms he knew that these people were here to gamble and lose money publicly.  He wasn’t privy to the details but assumed there was something illegal involved.  Regardless, his role was clear and his innoncence had to be maintained.

Gamely, the manager continued.  “This is one of the finest gambling establishments in all of Corlean.  It’s not normal for people to just ‘give’ us money.  They come here to take their chances at a fortune.”

The younger man, Captain Kellron thought Orundol, looked exasperated for a moment but then covered it with a sigh.  “Very well.  A private room then with some sort of card game.  You do have those?”

Orundol paused.  This wasn’t what was supposed to have happened, but he was capable of rolling with it.  “Certainly sir.  Are you sure…”

“Quite.”

“Very well.”  The manager brightened with a though.  “Let me get you a server.  We have several excellent young ladies who are quite quick and accommodating.”

One of the other men, the middle-oldest, who had been surriptiously looking around pointed out a nearby serving girl.  “She’ll do.  Just show us to the room.”

Orundol looked and saw that it was Semina who was just walking by with a tray of drinks.  He almost sighed.  She wasn’t the prettiest of his girls and he had no idea of how accomadating she could be – hopefully very accomadating.  Still the man had picked her out of the crowd and so was probably attracted to her.  Orundol signaled the girl and waved her over.  

“Semina, tell Rina that she’s taking over your shift.  These folk are your newest responsibility.  Please show them upstairs to Jessica’s room.  I want you to supply these good people with anything they ask for.  Am I clear?”

Semina curtsied.  “Yes sir.  I’ll take good care of them.”  She promised.

Orundol nodded.  It would have to do.  He looked to the young woman who had accompanied the men, the wizardess Jallarzi.  “And you ma’am?”  He inquired.  “Would you prefer a more… manly server?”  He asked delicately.

She looked bored.  “No thank you.  She’ll be fine.”

“Very well then, I’ll leave you in Jessica’s more than capable hands.  Please inquire if you have any questions.”  With that Orundol bowed and let Semina take them to the private rooms upstairs.

---

_The game was ‘Lord’s Luck’, a fairly simple card game that required more luck than skill, but could still be influenced by both bluff and strategy**.  There was a brief period of chaos while they changed out the bag of gems that Kellron laid on the table to gaming tokens.  it might have been easier not to bother, for Kellron turned out to not be a very good player.  

In about six hours he was down fifteen thousand gold lions.  With the sunrise only a few hours off he and his companions decided to call it quits for the night, telling Jessica they would be back the next evening.

The dark-haired dealer smiled prettily and accepted the proffered tip with grace, impressed with their generosity in adversity.  Jessica had seen reckless gamblers before and correctly pegged them as neophytes; but she had never seen a new player lose so much so casually or with so much boredom.  The next morning all her fellow dealers heard of her newest players, of their generosity and the enormous amount of wealth that they were willing to lose.

---

*Sadly, I don’t recall the exact conversation anymore, but it was more or less along these lines.

**I presumed that all dealers in the house had +10 to Profession (Gambler).  The players were making untrained checks vs. Jessica’s every hour.  Every point of difference between the opposed check equaled 1,000gp that went to the high roller._


----------



## Seravin

Imruphel said:
			
		

> Hey Seravin,
> 
> I'm continuing to really enjoy your posts. Being greedy I'll simply finish with, "MORE PLEASE!!!"




Well, my girlfriend is back after a week-long business trip      - but here's what I've started to put to paper.

Thanks for the encouraging words, they do help.

Happy Turkey-day to folks...


----------



## Seravin

*Dates and Engagements*

As a matter of safety the companions (excepting Kestral who was maintaining her cover) were staying at Sword House.  Specifically Lieutenant Jared had received permission to set up their magical hut in the high-walled courtyard behind Sword House.  The hut was easily as comfortable as anything the church could provide and allowed a measure of privacy while still granting it the security of the church itself.

This was well and fine for Jared, Kellron, and Aerseleth, but Jallarzi could care less.  The journey-wizard was confident in her abilities to protect herself from most any attack and she had things to do.  Upon waking up after their less than stellar night of gambling Jallarzi decided to spend her day at the Library.

The lion-headed door knocker greeted Jallarzi as she arrived at the Library with its’ grindingly slow speech.  “Yooou haaave a vissssitor, Journey-wizzzard.  Massster Shalzerith awaits you in the Bluuue Roooom.”  Perhaps Jallarzi suspected, perhaps not, that the knocker had been purposely enchanted to speak thus – a bit of magical humor

Regardless, she sniffed.  “Thank you.”  Replied the half-elf.  “I’ll be right there.”

The Blue Room of the Corlean Library is aptly named, with all the furnishing and fabrics done in various shades of blue, contrasting with the white-washed walls and ceiling.  It was one of the most comfortable rooms in the Library and the one most often taken over by the masters when visiting.  It is an excellent place to study or just read.

When Jallarzi entered the room she stopped at the doorway and looked over the sole-occupant.  She had heard of Master Shalzerith but could not recall anything more specific than that he was an expert on planar creatures.

Seated on the lounge, reading, Master Shalzerith at first glance looked larger then he really was.  His immaculate gray master’s robes helped with that illusion, but looking past that Jallarzi could see that the man was perhaps only a few inches taller than herself and quite thin for a human.  

The other seeming illusion was that the wizard looked _old_; his medium-cut, immaculately groomed hair was white as snow in the mage-light of the room.  It took Jallarzi a moment before she realized his hair was actually the silver color of a wizard who had used life-extending magics.* She had no doubt that his eyes would bear the steel-gray mark of those same magics.  Aware of the signs, the woman quickly noted that the hands holding the book were completely unblemished.  As an afterthought Jallarzi finally noticed that the wizard had a droopy moustache, equally as silver as his hair.

At that moment Shalzerith looked up at her entrance and smiled with delight, apparently recognizing her immediately.  “Journey-mage Jallarizi!  It is so good to finally meet you.”  He exclaimed as he set the book aside and gracefully stood up.

Jallarzi saw that her first guess was right.  Shalzerith was seemingly ageless and there was no telling how old he actually was.  The young journey-wizard bowed as a gesture of respect.  “Thank you master.  The door guardian said you were waiting for me?”

“Quite so.  Quite so.”  Agreed Shalzerith, rubbing his hands together.  Then gathering himself he came straight to the point.  “I was hoping you might do me the honor of having brunch with me.  I have a proposition of sorts to discuss with you.”

Jallarzi froze.  “I uh..”  She stammered, unsure of what to say.  There was something in his tone that indicated that his proposition might be more…intimate than business-like.  He wasn’t unhandsome, and compared to one of the temporary servers at the Gorgon last night, Shalzerith exuded both confidence and power.  “I’m afraid I’m busy this morning, maybe tomorrow?”

“Oh.  Of course.”  He was obviously disappointed.  “I guess this is quite sudden and I am told you are quite the busy woman.  Tomorrow would be fine.  Shall we meet here then?  At this time?”

Jallarzi nodded mutely, then found her voice.  “Sure.  Meeting here would be fine.”

Shalzerith smiled broadly again.  “Excellent!”  He retrieved his book and then bowed to Jallarzi, a gesture of respect that masters rarely gave journey-folk.  Jallarzi was too distracted to notice.  “On the morrow then.  I wish you luck in today’s researches.”  With that he grabbed his staff that had been leaning against the lounge and left the room.

---
_Later that night_

The same carriage bore the four companions back to the Blue Gorgon that evening.  Again, they were dressed in their finest clothes, augmented with their finest magical baubles.  Again, out of courtesy and respect to the traditions of the city more than anything else, the men had decided against wearing their armor, but they were still protected as well they could be without it.  Also, they still bore their swords, unwilling to give those up.

As they stepped out of the carriage, Jared touched Kellron’s arm.  “Hold up.  I want to check something.”  With that he pulled out his holy symbol and small vial of ointment.  Applying the yellow ointment to his eyelids, Jared invoked a brief prayer to Sarath at the same time.

The priest then surveyed the building with his protected sight, confident that no illusion or enchantment could trick him.  No grim demons hovered about the gambling house and the patrons entering and leaving looked normal enough.  “It seems safe enough.”  He reported.  

“For now.”  Muttered Kellron.  With that, he, Aerseleth, Jared, and Jallarzi climbed up the steps to the door, letting their carriage driver leave for the night.

---

Predictably, Ker Orundol met them as they entered, apparently waiting for them.  Nearby were several pretty young servers and the unremarkable, but curiously handsome Semina.  “Ah, my good and dear friends!”  He called out upon noticing them.  “I trust you are here to try your luck again.”  He chortled.  “Surely your luck can only improve now.”  The manager’s voice was pitched to carry over the crowd as he went up to greet the new arrivals.  Indeed, Ker Orundol’s voice was heard quite clearly by everyone nearby.

Kellron glared but kept his silence until they were much closer.  “Just show us to the same gaming room.”  He almost-snapped as he looked around.  

“Of course.”  Agreed the manager amiably.  “I’m sure you’ll prevail over Jessica’s luck this evening.”  He then waved to the nearby women and his smile was almost a leer.  “Can I provide you fine officers with the fine company of our women this evening?”

Kellron shook his head.  “That won’t be necessary.  We’ll take the same girl we had last night.  What’s her name…Semina.”

“As you wish.  I trust that Semia has been most agreeable to your _every_ desire then?”

“Whatever.  Just show us the room.”

Ker Orundol snapped his fingers and looked gestured Semina over.  “Please show our esteemed guests back to Jessica’s private table and get them anything they would like to drink.  It’s the least we can do after all.”

Semina curtsied and turned all her charm on to Kellron.  “If you would follow me good sirs?”  She invited.  With that the handsome-looking woman led them through the crowd and up the stairs to where the private gaming tables were sequestered.

As Ker Orundol had no doubt intended several pairs of eyes watch the the three officers and the white-haired woman ascend the grand stairway.

---

This time there was a guard at the door to the private gaming room.  He was a large, burly man with no neck to speak of.  His swarthy skin seemed to glint with a bit of sweat, no doubt caused by the the formal clothing he was wearing.  No one noticed, but the man was dressed in a style similar to the elaborately formal-dress of the Heralds, though the colors were blue on black.  The man’s glittering black eyes surveyed the group with a look of contempt, but he stepped aside without a word to let them pass.

Jared hung back however.  “I’ll be right in.”  He promised, with a look to the guard.  “I just need to speak with the…gentleman here.”

Kellron and Aerseleth nodded, barely looking back while Jallarzi gave him a curious look as she went inside.

Jared waited for the door to close before speaking.  “Why are you here?”  He demanded.

The contemptuous guard smiled lazily.  “Guard duty.”  He rumbled out with a deep gravelly voice.  “I’m told there’s some money to protect.”

To Jared’s vision a shadow hung about the guard like a shroud.  It was as big as an ogre and mostly humanoid, the way a mishappened goblin was a humanoid, though it had large bat-like wings and a whip-thin prehensile tail that darted about like a snake.  The creature was unclothed and the priest could see that its body was completely covered with spiky, blood-red scales.  It was apparent that no one else saw it like this though.  The building would be emptied if they had.

Jared’s pulse quickened as he tried to remember the texts.  “Are you here for a fight?”  He asked.

Again the man, rather the fiend, smiled.  “Only if you are.  Would you care to try me?”

_Cornugan?  Or pit fiend?_  Thought Jared.  Both were large but there was a world of difference between the two.  He was leaning towards a pit fiend, but a helpful little voice in the back of his mind suggested the lesser horned devil as a possible alternative.
Gathering himself, the priest shook his head.  “No.  Not unless you’re here to cause trouble.  If that’s the case we’ll send you back immediately.”

The creature sneered.  “No need to worry little human.  I’m not here to start a fight, but I will finish it if you start one; you have my word on it.”

“This isn’t over.”  Promised Jared as he moved to open the door.  He trusted the creature not at all, but he didn’t think it spoke a single lie.  Regardless, a fight now would cause a lot of death and chaos.  Whatever it was, the beast almost certainly could summon hell-flame as well as others of its kind.  The thought of random devils appearing in the crowd below almost made him shudder.

Steeling himself, Jared entered the room, letting the devil see his back.  The only thing harder than that was trying to figure out whether or not to tell Kellron now or later.  Jared didn’t know the paladin well enough to know if Kellron would insist on an immediate fight.

---

Jessica was a dark-haired and dark-eyed woman of moderate looks and exceptional dexterity.  The gaming table was hers to command and she knew it.  She could deal from the top, bottom, and middle of the deck at whim and all the while make you think you had control.  It was her job after all.

She smiled sweetly at the two men and the woman as they entered; noting that one of the men was talking to Ker Orundol’s 'advisor' outside the door.  “Good evening, Captain Kellron.”  She greeted as they made their way to the chairs around her table.  “Ker Orundol said that you would might be back this evening and made sure to stock the private bar up here just in case.  You’re to be afforded every liberty.”

Kellron closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  Sighing, he gave in.  “Thank you.”  He looked at Semina and waved towards the bar to the side of the room.  “Get me something.”  He half-asked/half-ordered.

A few moments later Jared entered and just shook his head at Kellron’s questioning gaze.  “I’ll tell you later.”  He said.  

With that they took their seats.  Jessica forbore talking until their drinks were set before all.

“The same game, Captain?”  She asked brightly, reaching for her cards.

“Like it matters.”  Spoke the soldier.  At Jessica’s uncomprehending look, he relented.  “The same game would be fine.”

Jared spoke up.  “Do you mind if I play the first few rounds?”**  He asked.

Kellron shook his head.  “Go ahead.”  He invited.

Jessica smiled happily and laid the cards out before them for their inspection.  She then pulled the small bell-cord next to her.  “Let me call Karl up here and he can trade out your gems for chips then.”***

Already waiting for the signal, Karl, the House money-changer was soon there, flanked by his ever-present two guards.  He quickly and professionally went through their proffered coins and gems and gave them full value in chips.  Just as professionally he left the rooms with much more attentive guards, clutching a largish bag quite tightly in his two arms.

The games then began in earnest.

---

Jessica was a professional dealer and gambler, and her altar to Lady Hyla was the gaming table.  Jared was a priest-soldier who won his fights on the battlefield.  Over time the outcome was a forgone conclusion, but if they had trusted to the first few hands the priest would have walked away richer than he had came in.  

They played for almost seven hours and while Jared won more than a couple hands based on his instinctive grasp of the strategy, Jessica ultimately bled away thirty-five thousand gold lions in markers.  When Jared won, he won big.  Unfortunately he lost just as big as he won.

_Almost like he’s trying to just get it over with._  Thought Jessica, thinking they would soon call it a night.  The soldiers had lost over twice what they had last night in almost the same amount of time.  

She was very surprised when Jared turned to Kellron and spoke somewhat wearily.  “I’m getting tired of this.  Do you want to take over?”

For the first time that evening a gleam appeared in the captain’s eye.  “Sure.”  He said agreeably.  He then turned to the dealer, pushing their markers towards her.  “Can I bet this all on one hand?”

Jessica paused.  All the dealers were kept to a limit on what they could lose.  She would easily surpass that limit if she accepted and lost.  “I’ll have to talk to the manager before I accept.”  She temporized.

“Go ahead.  We’ll wait.”  Offered the captain helpfully.

Jessica pulled the bell-cord again and they quietly waited.  Semina helpfully filled everyone’s drinks, providing Jessica with water from a pitcher.

---

Ker Orundol soon arrived and Jessica explained what Kellron had proposed.  The manager was obviously taken aback and cast a nervous eye towards the door.  Eventually he agreed, but told them that it was the end of Jessica’s day.  A new dealer would be up shortly.

The group shrugged indifferently.  Jessica looked a little shocked, but only Semina caught her look of betrayal.  Semina correctly surmised that Jessica had been hoping for the tip, but was just as relieved to not be responsible for a possible twenty-thousand lion loss.  The pretty dealer needn’t have worried though, for Jared made a show of providing her the same tip as she had received the night before.

Ker Orundol then leaves with Jessica and the House winnings, bidding the companions to wait.  A short while later an older gentleman arrives, dressed in the blue on black colors of the gambling house.  His dark hair is starting to go gray, giving his beard a salt and pepper appearance.  His gray eyes look over the four friends with a fair amont of curiosity as he takes his place at the dealer’s seat.

“Good evening, folks.  My name is Dok****.  I’m told you want to bet it all in a single hand.”

Kellron nodded.  “That’s right.  It looks to be about twenty-thousand.”  He offered helpfully.

Dok nodded thoughtfully as he eyed the markers.  He then took and spread the cards out for everyone’s inspection.  Once everyone was satisfied, the dealer gathered up the cards and began shuffling them expertly.  “Lord’s Luck?”  He asked lazily as he began to deal.

Two minutes later it was all over and the Blue Gorgon was another twenty-thousand gold lions richer.

---

Ker Stev Orundol couldn’t be happier as Dok came down the stairs with a sack of markers in his hand a somewhat incredulous air about him.  The dealer held in his hand what would be an incredibly good take at any time, but was apparently less than a third of what the House had already won from just this one group.

Orundol went upstairs quickly to see to his guests.  As Father Dark had promised, he had just brought in seventy-fve thousand gold lions in tow nights.  He never thought a single patron would lose that at his establishment – the bulk of that in a single night no less.  

Briefly he wondered what sort of money laundering scheme was going on.  Orundol still couldn’t figure how Father Dark was going to get his cut of the money.  He dismissed the thoughts as he approached the private room and its sullen-looking guard.

“Balraj.”  Orundol greeted his advisor again for the third time that night.  The manager was always careful to be polite around the burly ‘advisor’.  There was something about the man that could unfailing scare him if he thought about him for too long.

“Orundol.  Your dealer did good and fleeced them honestly.”

“Ahem.  Yes.  So I’m told.  I was going to see if they wanted to continue gaming.”

An evil looking grin passed the man’s face, like a scar of lightning against storm clouds.  “Heh.  I’ll be interested in their answer.”

With that Balraj turned and opened up the door and let the manager in.

---

“I’m told you’ve finished gambling?”  Asked Ker Orundol as he entered the room.

Kellron waved his hand over the empty gaming table.  “As you can see we have no money left.”  Despite having lost so much money, there was no trace of bitterness in his voice, just a plain matter-of-fact quality, like saying ‘water is wet’.

Jared eyed the guard just outside the door, behing the manager.  “Given how it is so late, we were hoping you could provide a couple rooms.  Maybe for free.  It’s a little late to go back home at this time of night.

“Of course.  I’ll see to it at once.  Do you wish to go downstairs and mingle?”

“We’ll stay here until the rooms are ready.”

“Of course.”  Repeated the manager, a little disappointed.  “I’ll have someone fetch you once the rooms are ready.”  With that, Orundol turned and left the room, closing the door behind himself.

Certain that they were alone, except for Semina, Jared turned to Kellron.  “I’ve been holding back.  That guard out there is a devil of some sort.  I think it might be a pit fiend, but I don’t know.  I didn’t want to start a fight with the crowd out there though.”

They all started at Jared’s pronouncement.  Before they could formulate any questions, Jared continued speaking.  “I think it’s here to give us our ‘reward’ for losing the money.  I’d like a few minutes to speak with it before we decide to do anything else.”

Kellron and Aerseleth exchanged glances with each other while Jallarzi and Semina did the same.   

Kellron nodded.  “Okay.  Five minutes unless we hear a fight break out.”

Jallarzi murmured her agreement also.

Aerseleth kept his counsel to himself.  For now Kellron was the scion of the blade and he decided the strategy.  Kestral as Semina also remained quiet, keeping in character.

Jared invoked a _discern lies_ prayer and then exited the room to confront the devil.  Semina then walked up quietly to the closed door and laid her ear against it to listen in as well as she could.

---

The devil sneered at Jared as the priest exited the room and closed the door behind himself  “I’m told you had some tough luck.”  Commiserated the fiend.

Jared ignored the remark, looking the speaker over carefully.  His spell of _true seeing_ had long since expired so now he saw only the guise of the man.  The disguise seemed perfect.  “I’m told you have something of ours.”  He said finally.

“Me?  Have something of yours?  I’ve never even met you before today.”

“Two days ago we received a letter that said something of value would be returned to us if we lost seventy-five thousand gold lions here.”

The devil snorted.  “And you believed it?  Perhaps you found humility.  I’m told poor people have that.  Or maybe you gained some good sense.  Gambling is for people who like to lose money.”

Jared’s voice was as cold as ice as he responded.  “The only thing that’s preventing an all out attack on you right now is that we think we’re going to get our friend back.”  He looked the devil in the eye.  “Can you or can’t you provide this?”

The beast paused, not the least bit worried, but under orders not to start the fight.  “I do not personally hold what you seek.  I can however send a messenger to the person who does.  If you wait here until…sun-up say, you’ll have what you seek.”

Jared’s divination against lies revealed no falsehood.  “We’ll wait for you.”  He promised, turning his back on the devil for the second time that evening, to enterthe private room and let his friends know what was going on.

---

Four long hours passed.  Instead of going to their prepared rooms they passed the time in the gaming room; not trusting anyone or thing in the gambling house.  Kestral, as Semina, stayed with them, keeping her cover.

The room didn’t have a window, but they were able to mark the time from the lamps and occasionally peeking out into the main room.  Not that it did them much good other then allow them to pass the time estimating just how much time had passed.

Eventually the sun came up though and shortly thereafter there was a gentle tapping at the door.  Aerseleth looked up at the noise and made sure everyone else had heard it before opening the door.  A woman stood there in the blue on black colors of the house.  Holding the woman’s hand was a blonde-haired little girl, perhaps all of five years old.

Kestral almost gasped out loud.  The little girl was Erica, Beth’s adopted sister.  The woman mastered herself though and looked the girl over.  Erica looked healthy enough and she was dressed in clean, if not so fancy, clothes.

The wide-eyed little girl looked into the room with a fair amount of trepidation.  Clutched in her free hand was a small, black wooden box, carved with images of leering faces.  She looked over them all and finally picked out Kellron.  She held the evil-looking box out.  “This is for you lord.”  She offered.

Kellron got up and walked over to the little girl.  Kneeling down he accepted it.  “Thank you.”  He reached for his pouch and then realized he was broke.  “Anyone have a coin?”  He asked.

Jallarzi fished out a gold lion and passed it off to Kellron who gave it to the girl.

Erica accepted it, her eyes growing even wider as she realized what it was.  

Kellron looked to the girl’s escort.  “See that she gets breakfast and that she keeps that coin.”  He told her.  Unspoken was a warning against thievery.  

The woman understood the unspoken threat completely.  The rumors of this group had been running around for the last two days; and she had seen them leave earlier this evening in a righteous rage that she had no wish to inflict upon herself.  The woman left quickly, bowing respectfully.

Shortly thereafter the four companions left the Blue Gorgon.  Semina checked in with the floor manager and then left by way of the servant's entrance.  Soon enough they would all meet at Sword House.

---

_*It’s been a staple of this world that all wizards have silver hair and gray eyes.  I’ve since modified it to wizards who have used potions of longevity or consistently use 9th level spells.

**Jared’s player noted that profession skills were Wisdom based.  He intended to win a bit and get back some of their own.  He almost succeeded, but the multiple rolls were against him.

***I had forgotten about this.  Almost all of their treasure had been converted to something more portable than 150k in gold.  I just assumed the gaming house would have an appraiser on hand to value possible gems/jewelry proffered as a stake.  It made it simpler.

****Yeah.  It was a bad name, but at least it didn’t start with a ‘J’.  I decided that the House would use only their best dealer for a single, high-stakes hand, so I decided that Dok had Profession (Gambler) +15.  _


----------



## Imruphel

Thanks for the update, Seravin. It's getting more and more intriguing.


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## Seravin

Imruphel said:
			
		

> Thanks for the update, Seravin. It's getting more and more intriguing.




Thanks.  
Things start to get a whole lot more complicated now.  It was starting with this section that my game notes became longer - but I'm still finding that I'm recalling things that never got written down.  :\ 

As will become apparent, things start to become complex.  Let me know if something doesn't make sense.


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## RedShirtNo5

Seravin, just delurking to say this is getting better and better, and still providing lots of inspiration/fodder for thought on my campaign.  I'm also realizing that I need to go back and reread a large section of your SH.  I think I follow it, but need to refresh my memory.  

Now, I have to ask 



Spoiler



is Balraj connected to the pit fiend from Book 3


?

For the past few months I had my group on a side-trek to investigate a second kidnapping scheme run out of a small city a week's travel from Thurmaster.  This was mostly so that they would have enough experience to reach 5th level before getting into the guts of Book 2.  But now the party has followed this plot path into a second entrance to the underdark.   So now I need to start tying the two threads together.  In addition, 



Spoiler



one encounter has been with a succubus, who will provide alot of interesting opportunities for mischief in the city, as well as a connection to the demonic group from Book 3


.


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## Imruphel

Desperately looking for an update....


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## Seravin

Redshirt, 
To answer your question - sort of.  There's no direct connection. 



Spoiler



However, as it will hopefully become apparent, there is a connection of a sort.  Balraj's boss is an ally to the pit fiend in the 3rd book


.

I like your tie-in with the second set of kidnappers and I hope it goes well.  I wish I had thought of it myself actually. 
It just so happens my group got interested later on in the rumors of additional kidnappers and decided to side-trek it themselves.  In their case it was because they weren't comfortable with any of their other choices in the 3rd book, so they made their own.  At least it allowed me to explore where all the 



Spoiler



giants


 were coming from.

Imruphel, thanks for the encouragement.   

In my defense I had to aquire two certifications for work this month and then the holiday's happened.  

I'm hoping to post something on Kellron's new criminal record by Friday or Saturday.


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## Seravin

Huh.  So that's what a database failure and no backup looks like.    

My theory is that the board somehow 'knew' that Piratecat and Sep were going to post this week and the anticipation killed it.    

Fortunately I logged in this morning to see if ENWorld was up and caught Spoony Bard's message and had enough forethought to grab my cached posts from Google.  The only thing I lost was my Story Hour Index info.  I'll have to see if I saved that somewhere.

*The following posts were originally posted from Jan 1, 2006 - April 30th, 2006.*
At the end of the repeats I'll put in a final post that I'm done.
I'm only reposting what I originally put up - keeping the quotes as they were.


----------



## Seravin

*Halt! In the name of the Law!*

_Before leaving The Blue Gorgon, Jared paused long enough to magically inspect the small box in their possession. The lieutenant immediately noted a strong aura of abjuration overlaying it. Not taking any changes he dispelled the magic and then opened the box to see what it contained. Inisde, an oval, palm-sized amulet made of tarnished silver lay upon a blood-red silk handkerchief. Indecipherable runes ran along the outer edge of the amulet. Jared didn’t need a detect magic to feel the evil radiating from the box. Grimacing, the priest closed the box and the three friends made their way out._

---

Morning prayers were about to begin when Kellron, Aerseleth, Jared, and Jallarzi entered Sword House, temple to Sarath. They were tired but hopefully they had what they wanted.

Jared immediately motioned over an acolyate and then bid the young man to inform Colonel Megara that he and Kellron were back. The dutiful acolyte saluted and hurried off. The acolyte had not even crossed the temple floor when Kestral, still disguised as Semina, slipped into the temple and joined her friends.

A few minutes later they were all ushered into Colonel Megara’s office. She had assigned one of her captains to conduct the morning prayers while she met with Jared and Kellron. The colonel looked askance at ‘Semina’ but was mollified (if not particularly happy) that it was Kestral in a magical disguise.

Kellron and Jared quickly related the previous night’s happenings. If the good Colonel was unhappy about Kestral’s ability to magically disguise herself, she was even less happy about the news of a devil running loose in the city at someone’s behest. That would have to be taken care of.

The neutralization of the creature would have to happen later though, after she had Kellron and Jared investigate to find out who had summoned the beast. Before she gave them that task she needed to make sure they were well rested from being up all night. First they would see what the night’s labor had bought them.

Colonel Megara invited the friends to pray with her; Jallarzi and Kestral demurred but the others accepted. Instead Jallarzi pulled out her spellbook and leafed through various spells with Sarah, her familiar lying next to her. Kestral occupied herself by leafing through Megara’s personal library.

An hour later they were all gathered in the private chapel reserved for the colonel and the absent General Vorun. Jared described the aura of strong abjuration he had originally found on the box. Colonel Megara commended him on his foresight and then proceeded to cast her own spells.

_Detect evil_, _true seeing_, and _detect magic_ were quickly cast and used to view the box and then the amulet inside. The amulet radiated a palpable aura of evil, stronger than anything any of them had seen before. Unsurprisingly, it was also radiating an aura of necromantic magic. Colonel Megara related that there was indeed a spell capable of capturing a soul that fit the aura’s she saw, though she had never actually seen it. Jallarzi was also able to confirm that she had heard of the spell from her studies.

Unfortunately, there were certainly many other spells that could be both evil and necromantic in nature. Because of this the good colonel fortified herself with prayers of _protection from evil_, _resistance_, _bear’s endurance_, and _owl’s wisdom_ before she reached in and actually grasped the amulet.

“_A soul shackle_*.” Whispered Megara, horrified. She knew that Ashimar’s soul was bound inside the tarnished silver amulet the moment she touched it. She drew in a quick breath and raised the amulet up before them. “Appear and speak!” She ordered.

They all felt a collective shiver go up their spines and Kellron and Jared thought they heard a wail. Then the shade of Ashimar appeared just two feet in front of Colonel Megara. He looked exactly as the others remembered on the day he died; with the mithril chain shirt that he wore as armor, and the familiar rapier at his side. His death wound from the club of the cave giant was not immediately apparent.

Ashimar’s eyes were at first haunted, but as he took in the surroundings, his shade took on a sharper, almost brighter, cast; hope had returned. “Colonel Megara? How did you find me?”

Beka Megara held up the charm and pointed to Kellron and Jared. “Your friends did. Tell us what happened.”

Ashimar looked ashamed. “A mage I’ve never seen before captured my spirit. He asked questions about me and the book I stole from that sorceror. Sometime later I must have been given to Grandal Deverex, for he has questioned me almost daily about my friends for the last several weeks. I’ve had no choice but to answer. I’ve tried to not speak but the magic forces me to.” The shade seemed to dim at the last, ashamed of its betrayal.”

Colonel Megara’s face was nearly as grim as Jared’s and Kellron’s. “Rest now.” She commanded. “We’ll set this aright. The Order promises it.”

Ashimar saluted and then audibly sighed as he faded away back to the restless oblivion of the amulet.

Jared was already rummaging through his pack before Ashimar’s spirit was completely gone. “Will a prayer of _break enchantment_ work he asked, pulling out one of the many scrolls they had captured in the night below.

“It should.” answered Jallarzi. “There’s no guarantee, but if we’re lucky you’ll have slightly better than even odds.”

Jared nodded and unfurled the scroll while Colonel Megara brought it closer. The lieutenant and priest carefully read the scroll out loud, enunciating each syllable carefully. The power built itself about him until he could almost feel it like the static just before the stroke of a lightning bolt. Judging it was at its peak, Jared released the energy of the prayer against the amulet, trying to shatter the spell.

It was for naught. The abjuration broke against the power of the amulet and drained away without effect.

Jared swore mildly. He hadn’t been certain it was going to work first time anyway if the best he could have hoped for was a 50-50 chance.

Before anyone could speak further, there was a knock at the chapel door.

“Enter.” Commanded the colonel.

An acolyte stuck his head in the door. “Your pardon colonel, but there are several men from the City Watch here as well as a wizard from the Library. They say they are here to arrest Field Captain Kellron, Lieutenant Jared, and the Journey-Mage Jallarzi.”

No one spoke for a long moment and everyone looked confused.

“I think,” spoke the colonel, “that we should find out what this is all about.” She said to no one in particular. “Thank you, I’ll go meet them myself, we just have to put some things away.”

The acolyte saluted and waited by the door. He was just as glad that he wasn’t required to go tell the Library wizard that she had to wait.

---

In her white Library robes and ceremonial staff, Master Wymeah was easy to pick out against the gray stone of the main chapel of Sword House. Colonel Megara led Jared, Kellron, Jallarzi, Aerseleth, and Kestral (still disguised as Semina) straight to the woman.

It took a moment to realize that the score of other men and women standing around were actual members of the City Watch. All of watchmen looked very tense as the six people approached them, most of them with their hands already on their weapons.

Colonel Megara approached Master Wymeah as the obvious leader. “I’m Colonel Megara. I’m told that you’re here to arrest some of my men?”

Master Wymeah bowed. “Good morning Colonel. I am Master Wymeah of the Library at Corlean.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out a scroll, which she then handed to the Colonel.

Megara took the scroll and started to read it while the Library master continued to speak.

“The City Watch has asked that I assist them in this arrest as a member of my own Library is involved.” With that, Master Wymeah turned directly to Jallarzi and spoke.

“Journey-mage Jallarzi, you and your companions, specifically that gentleman” she said, point at Kellron, “and that one” pointing at Jared, “are accused of many crimes. The most serious of which include assaulting the people and property of The Gaming Den; and most seriously the kidnapping and or killing of one Ker Grandal Deverex.”

Master Wymeah paused only a moment to let that sink in, but not long enough to allow anyone to ask questions. “There are many eye-witnesses there that claim that the three of you magically appeared there and immediately began to attack both patron and staff with blade, _lightning bolts_, _fireballs_, and _magic missiles._ When Grandal Deverex appeared to defend his property you were further seen to assault his person, and then disappear with his body when he fell to your attacks. How say you?”

“It wasn’t us!” Exclaimed Jallarzi. “We were at The Blue Gorgon all night.”

Kellron, Jared, and Aerseleth all nodded. “We were. We haven’t even been close to The Gaming Den in several days.

Master Wymeah nodded, expecting the answer more or less. “That may be true, I’m certainly aware that it is a trivial task to magically disguise oneself. Nonetheless there is a warrant for your arrest. Will you come along peacefully until we can clear this up?”

The three accused exchanged glances and reached a silent agreement. The opposition looked relatively easy and Master Wymeah would be unable to use any wide area spells in the close quarters.

The watchmen tensed.

“Well come peacefully.” Said Kellron. “We’ll leave our weapons and armor here with Aerseleth.” Unspoken was their distrust of anyone involved in the frame-up. They didn't want their gear to be stolen from the Watch House while they were locked in cells just a few yards away.

Wymeah nodded and all the watchmen relaxed.

---

Minutes later, dressed in just their worn, but comfortable shirt, pants, and shoes, Kellron, Jared, and Jallarzi presented themselves to Master Wymeah and the City Watch. Their weapons, armor, and magical gear were now safely with Aerseleth who was carrying their magical hut.

Master Wymeah cast a simple _detect magic_ spell and scanned them before leading them out of Sword House.

Just as the watchmen opened the doors leading out Kestral called out.

“Wait!” She cried. “You made a mistake. They really were at The Blue Gorgon all night. I was their server.”

Master Wymeah stopped and counted slowly to three before turning around. She remembered seeing the woman earlier with the group and wondered what she was doing here. Regardless, the woman hadn’t registered any detectable magic when Wymeah had scanned the others; not like the Major had.

“And you are…?” Asked Wymeah.

“Semina, my lady. I’m a server at The Blue Gorgon and I was assigned to serve them all evening.

“I see. Well come along then. We’re all going to the Watch House. Afterwards you and the guardsmen can go to this other place and confirm your story. I have other, important matters to attend too.”


---

_*Book of Vile Darkness. Fifth level bard/wizard spell. Normally it requires that the focus be something that the creature was wearing when it died. I modified it somewhat, saying that the demon-made scar on Ashimar's chest acted as the initial focus which was then later transferred to a specially prepared amulet._


----------



## Seravin

Quote:


> Originally Posted by Imruphel
> And you think that's a valid excuse for not posting an update...?




Happy New Year to you too.


Not a valid reason, but at least it's better then "the dog ate my post."


----------



## Seravin

Quote:


> Originally Posted by Joshua Randall
> Seravin -- congratulations on an extremely engrossing tale. I started reading a couple weeks ago, have been drawn in and, sadly, am now caught up and must wait for new updates. Ah, the bitter-sweetness of that!
> 
> I am not familiar with the Night Below except by reputation, but I must say you and your players are doing a great job of conveying and reacting to the strangeness of the Underdark and its Illithid masters.
> 
> Finally, I would like to mention that this... ...is sheer genius. It made my rat-bastard DM soul cackle with glee.





High praise.
While not a rat bastard myself I can sometime's touch the madness found there. I was especially proud of that bit.

I have good players, and better yet, they're good friends - which provides a fair amount of inspiration.

I shoot for weekly updates - but in practice it turns out to be bi-weekly on average. December was a complete bust due to work and I'll be haphazard in January for the same reason; but I do want to make up the lost updates.


----------



## Seravin

> Originally Posted by Wasteland Knight
> Seravin,
> 
> This is a most excellent and engrossing story hour! I was up to all hours the other night finishing to your latest post, and I can only hope your future updates arrive on a regular basis? If you haven't made a New Year's resolution, then I might recommend "regular story hour updates" I particularly like the short interludes told from different points of view. Excellent. Your characterization of the humanoid races is quite interesting.
> 
> I actually purchased a used copy of Night Below a few years back, after being inspired by another Night Below story hour. I hope to someday use if for my own campaign, and reading your story hour is proving insightful. Keep up the good work!





Wow. More high praise. Thank you very much.
As I said above, my preferred goal is an update a week - but most of last year was maybe once every two (or so it seemed to me).

I've tried to put pointers to other NB stories on ENWorld - so go check 'em out. They're all pretty good, though some are sadly too short.
I'll also mention that there are 3.5conversions for all three books in the downloads section - as well as a huge thread on conversion forum.


----------



## Seravin

*New Blood and Old Troubles*

_New DM Trick: If the party splits up (especially because of something you, as the DM, does) see if you can provide a way for the rest of the players to participate. In this case, since the focus was going to be on Kestral’s adventure and the rest of the party was in jail, I invented three new watch-folk to investigate “Semina’s” claims.

Thus was born Watch-Captain Zed (Jared’s player), Watch-Sergeant Tess (Jallarzi), and Watch-Sergeant McPhee (Kellron). Which shows that I am really bad at coming up with names on the spur of the moment.

What limited me was that NPC’s are generally low level and this was something of an unexpected side-trek. I had expected the players to slip out the back; and when that didn’t happen I expected them to all stay together.

So I offered the players a chance to play members of the City Watch. Then we winged it (Each was a human Ftr4, elite array, wpn focus, wpn spec, any three other feats the players wanted. Roll hp or take average. Chain shirt, Shield, Cloak of Resistance +1, Weapon +1 – pick gear and skills). While they’re writing that down, I look at my notes and improvise. When it’s time to begin I give them a sketchy background for the characters.

If I had a chance to do it over, I would have pre-created the Watch-men, possibly raising the level by adding a couple rogue or expert levels. The Inquisitive prestige class would also have been appropriate._

---

Four peopled trudged through the snow-covered streets of Corlean, making their way to The Blue Gorgon*. The informant known as Semina was leading, making her way lightly across the icy streets. The woman brown-eyed, brown-haired woman was plain looking and plainly dressed, but moved with an uncommon grace.

Flanking to either side of Semina was a member of City Watch, with a third Watch-man trailing a little behind the group. Dressed in the dark-blue and silver of the city with their emblazoned cloaks (three silver stars), the Watch-men would have drawn the attention away from their charge anyway; however the Watch-Captain had ordered full fighting kit. So each Watch-man also wore a chainshirt, carried an emblazoned shield, and bore an Imperial longsword.

On Semina’s right, was Watch-Captain Zed, a tall, fit, no-nonsense veteran of the City Watch. His dark hair was starting to thin a bit, but his black eyes were still keen and missed little. His current orders from Watch-Commander Jessup were to clear up last night’s misunderstanding. The assumption was that the current prisoners were being framed and that there were dangerous assailants about. Captain Zed was now in charge of the investigation. He had no idea that their informant was really Kestral, ally and friend to the accused.

Almost everyone in the Watch knew that Grandal Deverex got what he deserved last night; especially after what happened to Lieutenant Brand and all. Some of the watch members believed that the witch and the priest-soldiers really did break up The Gaming Den. Zed knew that with magic involved it was hard to be sure

To the left of Semina was Watch-Sergeant Tess. Born and raised in Corlean, Tess wore her long black hair in a bun, and her eyes were the same gray as the stone that made up the city. She had been in the Watch for ten years now and was known to be hard but fair.

Bringing up the rear was Watch-Sergeant McPhee. Also a long-time veteran of the City-Watch, McPhee was more laid-back then his captain and fellow sergeant and a perceptive judge of human character. Still, he could get the job done and had a fair amount of discretion. Like Semina, his hair and eyes were brown.

They were perhaps two streets up from The Blue Gorgon when they saw the white smoke of a fire just starting. The four came to a halt and looked at each other and then back to the smoke. Without saying a word they all broke into a run for the gambling hall.

The fire had apparently started in one of the upper rooms, for the smoke was only pouring out of one of the second-floor windows. It wouldn’t be long before it spread further though.

“Start a bucket brigade!” Shouted Zed, looking about for a well. Tess and McPhee were already on it, gathering up nearby bystanders who were just now beginning to pay attention.

As for Semina, who was really Kestral? She quietly drifted away from the general bustle, reached into the folds of her jacket, and pulled out a small velvet pouch. The young woman shook a ring out of the pouch and exchanged it with the one on her left hand – a ring that no one had noticed before. As soon as the new ring was in place, Semina disappeared completely from view.

Semina then hurried to the forefront of the fire and called upon the gifts bestowed to her by the Water King’s signet ring. Every six seconds she was able to call forth some thirty gallons of water, surreptiously conjuring it onto the floor of the affected areas. The fire was soon put out and Semina ‘found’ Captain Zed soon after.

---

The acrid smell of smoke and burned cloth and wood filled the entirety of The Blue Gorgon. The smell was an afterthought compared to the dozen dead bodies that littered the first floor. Semina instantly recognized them as members of the staff. Some of the victims had been cut down by blade, but others had been burned and scorched by fire and lightning.

“They’re from the night staff.” She told the Watch-Captain, doing her best to look like she was barely managing her calm.

Watch-Captain Zed nodded, all business. He had already commandeered a watch patrol that had come at the fire-call. The patrol and his sergeants were looking for survivors and witnesses. Hopefully they would have something soon.

Those hopes were rewarded in the form of a burly man with burnt and torn clothing. The dark-haired man was haggard looking and seemed as if he had seen trouble recently.

“You are?” Asked Zed.

“Balraj, Watch-Captain.” Answered the man. “I work…” The man trailed off and looked around. “I worked here until this morning. As a bouncer.”

Zed nodded. “You were here during the fire?”

“And just before.” Confirmed the bouncer. He then continued on, his tone of voice growing more fearful as he recalled the events. “It was terrible. It was just three people. They were furious and got into a fight with the manager. Jessica...That’s her, over there, said they had lost seventy-five thousand lions at her table.” He paused, letting it sink it. “I’d be mad too, but it’s not worth killing over, is it?”

“No, it isn’t. What happened?”

Well, the two men were priests of Sarath, and the third was a young woman with silver hair. They had left right about sun-up but came right back through the front door and demanded to see Ker Orundol. He was here and came out to see them. They said the games were rigged and wanted their money back.” Balraj shook his head. “He looked confused at first, but it’s not the first time he’s heard that before. He told them to pack off or he’d call the Watch to settle it.”

The bouncer took a deep breath. “The woman just lit off right then and conjured these silver missiles. She killed Orundol right there. His eyes just rolled back in his head and he fell over backward. The two priests swore and then yelled out ‘no witnesses’.

Dok was upstairs and ducked into a room. The woman must have spotted him and sent a ball of fire up there. The two men just slaughtered everyone in the room.” The man shuddered. “I’m a strong man, but these people weren’t human. The two men charged down everyone in the room.”

Captain Zed nodded. “Uh-huh. And how did you survive?” He asked.

“I was watching from the hallway over there.” answered the man, pointing to an open doorway. I was just watching at first; I was off duty and didn’t want to get involved if they were just yelling. When the woman started shooting off spells….well I ran.” Balraj looked defiant. “Anyone who wanted to survive would have done the same thing. I ran down the back hallway there and out the backdoor in the kitchen.”

Kestral was impressed. His word-skill was good, if she didn’t know everyone involved she might have believed that version of events. She recognized the bouncer as the one that Jared had called a devil. He looked human enough but Jared had made sure they all knew the creature was dangerous.

Something was off about his story though. It took her a moment to realize what it probably was**. She stepped up to the Watch-Captain. “Sir? Could I have a moment?”

Zed nodded and gestured for his two sergeants to wait near the bouncer. He then followed the woman to a spot some twenty feet away. “Yes, Semina?”

“I don’t think it could have happened like that. I left only a minute or two behind the three and they beat me to the temple. They were mostly in sight the entire way.” As Zed nodded, somewhat dismissively, she continued. “Also, the back door is usually kept locked. He might have gotten out that way, but I’d like to check.”

Zed signaled to Tess and McPhee. “We’ll be right back.” He called out.

It turns out the kitchen door was still locked. When Captain Zed and Semina made their way back to the main room, he marched up to the bouncer and his sergeants. “McPhee, Tess, make sure this man doesn’t go anywhere. We need to look around some more.”

Tess and McPhee nodded. They recognized the tone and began to regard the bouncer as a suspect. Meanwhile Zed and Semina stepped aside again and began discussing their options. It was clear to Zed that this young woman was far more perceptive and competent then he had originally been led to believe. Right now though he would take all the help he could get.

---

Kestral was watching the bouncer intently while talking with Zed, and thus she saw the ‘far-away’ look cross the bouncer’s face. It was a look of a man ‘not-all-there’ as he concentrated on something else.

That’s when the bodies began to twitch. With laboring grunts, the bloodied and broken corpses strewing the floor began to gain their feet and look around.


Kestral almost snorted, this was disturbing but not terrifying – not anymore at least. Unfortunately fighting would be out of character right now. “He’s doing it!” She cried out, pointing to the bouncer.

All living eyes in the room turned to the bouncer, who was starting to chuckle at the displayed fear. “Kill them.” He ordered the zombies.

Captain Zed shoved Semina towards the back door. “Find a safe place.” He ordered his informant. “McPhee! Tess! Get that man! You other men, club those bodies down!” With that he drew his sword and charged the bouncer.

Balraj just laughed as the sword struck him. Zed’s blade cut through the bouncer’s clothes but the flesh beneath was like stone. “Nice hit.” Commented the bouncer as Zed shook the pain out of his sword-arm.

Tess stepped around, flanking the bouncer between herself and Zed and struck with her own blade. Her aim was equally as true as her captain’s, and as equally ineffective.

McPhee took all of this in and came up with a new course of action. Jumping forward with a yell, the sergeant barreled into the bouncer and knocked him to the ground. “A little help here!” He called out.

Meanwhile Kestral ducked into the hallway that Zed had shoved her towards and concentrated briefly. Moments later her face was different and she wore the clothes of a Watch-woman.

Balraj was still chuckling and wasn’t even trying to defend himself. Instead he became very still as he concentrated. None of the Watch-men paused. McPhee tried for a kidney-punch while Tess and Zed stabbed at the man. To no avail.

The form under McPhee shifted and melted. Suddenly the sergeant found himself grappling a pretty young woman with long silver hair. “I’ll kill you.” The woman told him with a pretty smile as she pressed up to him.

Zed and Tess stab into Balraj/Jallarzi again, not sure who their target is anymore, but not caring. Zed was the luckiest and finally found a weak spot in the now womanly-bouncer. His blade slid deep and she half-hissed with the pain; then gave Zed a smile full of promise.

McPhee isn’t taken in by the change.*** “It’s a disguise! Don’t let it fool you.” He calls out while trying to hold onto the man.

Her disguise complete, Kestral rushed towards the main battle, drawing her shortsword. When Colonel Megara later heard the retelling of it she was much impressed with Kestral’s bravery. Kestral never found out, but knowingly charging a devil from the pit wiped away all of Megara’s reservations about the young woman.

Balraj/Jallarzi sneered as the 'new' Watch-womanman charged. The sneer was replaced by an animal-like howl of pain as the magical shortsword slipped easily through her unprotected flesh, finding soft organs beneath.

The sword wasn't blessed, but Balraj recognized the danger. The new Watch-woman couldn't kill him, but she _could_ render him unconscious until his body could knit itself back together. He/She snarled at the thought. He’s not allowed to fully manifest. Not yet.

Spitting out an infernal oath, Balraj, still disguised as Jallarzi, wrestles the heavier Sergeant off of her, and gains her feet. The Watch-woman’s sword mercifully misses, but this time Tess manages to find a critical spot, nicking the former bouncer.

All of the Watch-men are concerned to see the bloodied wounds on the woman begin to knit together.

---

Excerpt from Zed’s report to Watch-Commander Jessup

_I still don’t know who the Watch-woman was, nor does anyone I’ve queried. What I do know is that she’s one hell of a fighter and she almost certainly saved our lives. She was making two precisions strikes against Balraj for every wild swing I was able to make.

Eventually Balraj, still disguised as the mage Jallarzi, disappeared; apparently teleporting away. We took the respite to help the other members of the Watch against the zombies. Afterward the Watch-woman offered to search the first floor in case Balraj was still nearby. It was a reasonable suggestion and I ordered a search of the building. We found no other living bodies however.

Semina found me shortly there-after but wasn't much help beyond providing her version of the events. Unfortunately anyone that could back up her story was dead. Given what happened, I don't doubt that Semina would have been killed if she had stayed there.

No one remembers seeing the Watch-woman during or after the search of the building._

---

_* I don’t know why I assumed they were walking. In retrospect it doesn’t make much sense to me; but in my mind the City Watch is always walking. Too much Terry Pratchett I expect.

** I allowed Kestral an Intelligence check to remember the normal operations of the gambling house.

** Balraj had a modified alter self going on. It wasn’t normally one of the creature’s abilities, so I decided to make it an amulet that granted the ability. I recall afterwards that I messed up how I used the ability. I messed up a second time by forgetting to make the amulet available as loot._


----------



## Seravin

> Originally Posted by Wasteland Knight
> Seravin,
> 
> As of the current day, are you and your players still playing Night Below, or have you wrapped up the campaign by now? From what I read of your posts in the Night Below Conversion thread, it sounds as if you've at least finished the converting the original to 3.5. And the stat blocks you posted for the heroes are pretty advanced. Any chance of ever seing Ashimar, Panther, Aerseleth, and Tore's stats?





Heh. Therein lies a story - hardly any of it good.
I'll preface this by saying that by this point in the story hour Ashimar is pretty much out of the story for good, except as an NPC. Tore was likewise retired from cohort to NPC in favor of Aerseleth (she's still around and important though).

I made a big push about two years ago to finish the book 3 conversion because my players were just finishing book 2. About the same time Jallarzi's player dropped out - due to lack of interest I was told. So I sucked it up and moved on with the remaining three players.

There was intermittent play for the following ten months as both work and the conversion effort sucked away at my time. About this time last year I had to put the game to rest as some certification requirements and planned vacations came into play.

Eight months ago Jared's player disappeared. There were some personal things going on and I was not as attentive as I should have been (he was one of the remote players). As such I didn't get to hear how he resolved things. All I know is that his phone was disconnected and he didn't respond to any other communication effort.

Because of that I put the game on indefinite hold, hoping he'd call - but somewhat grateful for the extended break. The players had explored most of the non-plot driven areas of book III and knew about the ultimate bad-guys - but were still hesitant to take them on.

I've had for the last year playing a halfling artificer/rogue who was going to be the greatest tailor in the world. That was fun.

Starting two weeks ago I decided to pick up the game again - this time with the Thursday game crowd. The new guy (at least to this campaign) has decided to play a mage. In order to get him up to speed with a new high level character I'm running the players through the Giant series to pick up some play experience (and dm experience).

Kestral and Kellron's players are playing new characters for this part. Once they're done with this they'll meet up with original group and there will be some character exchanges. Then Kestral, Kellron, Dumal, and probably one or two other NPC's will hopefully continue the fight into the Sunless Sea.

I can certainly post some character sheets if there's interest. I was pretty poor at keeping a clear trail of character sheets - something that turned out to bite me when folks started leaving; but I do have some.

See: http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=60096 for the characters as of 16th level - but note that there are some spoilers too (my players stay out).

I can revive that thread if folks are interested.


----------



## Seravin

*I’m What!?*

_Just a little north and east of Corlean’s central square is the Watch House, the headquarters of the City Watch. The long, two-story building is made of same gray stone as most other buildings in Corlean, and serves as a meeting place and temporary jail for the City Watch. Most prisoners who find themselves here are relegated to the cells beneath the building; certain prisoners rate a different treatment however. Highborn prisoners and those known to use magic are instead incarcerated in special cells located on the second floor; cells which the Library has specifically warded against spells.

Kellron’s, Jared’s, and Jallarzi’s status as members of the church and Library earned each of them their own cell on the second floor. The cells could be described as spartan, but each one was furnished with a bed, desk and chair. The cells had no windows, so lighting was provided by a small, magical, brass globe that could glow softly on command. They were the only magical items that would function in the cells – indeed they were powered by any spell that was cast in the room._

The sun was well past noon when the watchman gathered the three prisoners from their cells and led them to an office on the first floor. Watch-Captain Zed was waiting for the three friends and stood as they entered.

Not being one to waste time, the Watch-Captain waved them to the chairs in front of his desk and began speaking as soon as everyone was seated. “I wanted to thank you for your cooperation. Most people are quite belligerent on being arrested. Your attitude is refreshing and has a lot to do with why you’re now here.”

He took a deep breath before continuing. “I went to the Blue Gorgon this morning to verify Semina’s account of what happened.” He paused and looked at each of the prisoners in turn. “When we got there it was on fire.” He looked directly to Jallarzi. “At least one witness identified you as starting it, miss.”

Before she could protest Zed continued. “The witness proved unreliable however. While there he raised the corpses and sent them to attack me and my men, and then took on your likeness when he attacked us. We were fortunate that we had backup nearby however. Unfortunately this supposed witness teleported away as soon as it became apparent that he was going to lose. I don’t think he would have taken your shape if he had had known we had you in custody at the time. I’ve been assured by the guards that none of you left your cells during this time.”

Zed let that sink in for a moment and continued on. “That’s the only good news that I’ve heard today. Journey-mage Jallarzi, I regret to inform you that as of this moment you are the senior mage in the city.”

“What!” Started Jallarzi. “What happened?”

“Over the last few days several of your colleagues had been rendered senseless. Master Wymeah was investigating the reason why when she was struck down late this afternoon by the same affliction. Based on this, and that you’re evidently being framed for Ker Deverex’s kidnapping, I’m going to risk my commission and set you free.” He smiled grimly. I have hopes that Colonel Megara’s vouchsafe and Watch-Herald Ladea’s recommendation will allow me to keep my job if this all goes to hell.” He snorted and his smile turned nasty. “Besides, I have a suspicion that you will be of more use to me running around free then wasting away here.” He eyed each of them in turn. “I’m risking a fair amount by freeing you however, so please don’t abuse this trust.”

Kellron, Jared, and Jallarzi all stood. Jared stepped forward and answered for them. “Thank you for this. Don’t worry; we’ll be on our best behavior. My only worry right now is that there might be another frame-up attempt.”

Watch-Captain Zed’s smile faded when he answered. “I think you can count on it, but hopefully not today.”

---

_The three friends questioned the Watch-Captain on the downed wizards, and then made their way back to Sword House, careful and wary for they bore no weapon or armor or magic device. They would have been relieved to have known that several watchmen were trailing them in case of trouble, but none of the three friends had thought to look._


----------



## Seravin

*Save the Wizards*

At Sword House, Kellron and Jared reported immediately to Colonel Megara who was relieved to see them.

“What are your plans now?” Asked the militant-priestess.

Kellron answered. “We’re going to Library to see what happened to the wizards. It can’t be a conincidence that they’ve all been taken out at the same time were framed.”

Colonel Megara nodded. “Good luck then.”
_
While they were gearing up, Jared performed a sending to Kestral, telling her they would meet at the Library. She replied back, confirming that she would be there and that the money out of The Blue Gorgon had been stolen._

---

By chance, Kestral made it to the Library before the others, but she didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, Kellron, Jared, and Jallarzi strode up and met the young woman in the courtyard immediately in front of the main building. They quickly brought each other up to speed.

“_All_ the money was stolen out of The Blue Gorgon?” Asked Jallarzi.

“It was. You know about the fight in the Gorgon?”

“The Watch-Captain told us.” Confirmed Jared.

Kestral thought for a moment and then continued. “Afterwards we searched the building for the false-Jallarzi. I didn’t think we would find her, so I went to the main office instead. I found an entrance to the underground vault from there.” She shook her head in disgust. “Everything was gone; down to the last copper piece.” She looked at them. “The odd part was when I found the accounting books. Our transaction last night wasn’t recorded.”

Everyone grimaced. The implication was fairly obvious; someone had just walked away with their money with no trace. Now wasn’t the time to investigate it though, they were at the Library for another reason.

“All the wizards are incapacitated?” Asked Kestral, somewhat incredulously.

“According to the City Watch.” Confirmed Jared. “The Watch-Captain said that Master Wymeah came back here with some watchmen after we were jailed. The watchmen say she was just inside when she cast two spells of some sort. She collapsed immediately afterwards.”

“Huh.” Said Kestral. She didn’t have a clue. “So what’s next?”

“I’m going to check for magic first, then we’re going inside.” Said Jallarzi. So saying she began casting one of the first cantrips she had ever learned. Almost as soon as she cast it she gave a short scream and almost staggered to her knees.

Few people know how to craft a psychic poison, much less know of the existence of the spell for that matter. _Psychic poison_ is a spell-trap that attacks the mind of any spell caster that uses a divination or mind-control spell within its own area. The spell-trap requires a bit of the brain from a human or human-like creature. The casting extracts and amplifies all the madness and evil that the owner of the brain had witnessed; usually overwhelming the diviner who accidentally included the poisoned object in his or her scan.

Nishita, a renegade sorceress of hundreds of years ago, was the first to discover the technique that would allow her to stupefy a caster and further to tie the effect to an object, like a door-knocker or even a building if it was small enough. This application of the _psychic poison_ spell has been named after her.

Jallarzi’s _detect magic_ casting opened her mind and allowed her to see the colors of magics that surrounded the buildings and grounds. She didn’t even have a moment as a roiling, purple-black haze stabbed out from the Library building and enveloped her for a moment before seeping into her pores.

The suddenness of the attack overwhelemed the journey-mage and she found she was unable to resist. Her mind clouded and suddenly it felt like she was trying to think through a drug-induced haze. It was only the support provided by her Circlet of Baeravan that allowed her to maintain a hold on all of her spells*.

“Jallarzi!” Cried Jared, rushing to support the staggered wizard. “What is it?”

Jallarzi tried to focus. “A _psychic poison_ I think. I’ve been infected.

“What was it cast on?”

Jallarzi had still maintained her concentration despite the blow to her psyche; she had the presence of mind to not want to cast a second divination spell. “It looks like the entire building.” She said after a moment.

Jared didn’t consider himself a healer, but Sarath had seen fit to grant him the ability to fix battle created wounds. While Jallarzi was concentrating, Jared grasped his holy symbol and invoked a prayer of _heal_ to the war-god. None could see it, but the poisonous curse was driven from Jallarzi’s body preventing further damage.

“Thank you.” She said to Jared. “Now what do we do about the building?’

“I have an idea.” Pronounced the priest as he walked up the building. Laying his hands against the stone structure, he invoked a _dispel evil_ against the magics on the building. Almost immediately the courtyard seemed to be lighter, as if a shadow had been lifted from them.

“Shall we go in?” Asked Jared, satisfied with his efforts.

---

_The lion-headed door-knocker let them pass, greeting Jallarzi as the resident master. The young journey-mage didn’t like her bump in status, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She invited everyone in.

The building was empty and silent. Except that the lighting was still bright and the floors still clean, it could have been a haunted house. No one dwelled on that thought for long. Staying together, the group quickly searched each room, looking for anything immediately out of place. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) nothing jumped out at them. Eventually they were back in the entry-way.

“What now?” Asked Kellron.

“Let’s take a look at the wizards.” Said Jared. “The Watch-Captain said that they were taken to Healing House. Maybe if we can convince them to heal the wizards we can get some answers out of them.” Jared’s assumption, shared by the others, was that the wizards were only being cared for while invalids, and that healing magics weren’t being used.

Kestral nodded. “That sounds like a good idea, but we need more information than that. I’m going to poke around town and see what I can find out.”

They discussed their options a bit as well as what Kestral should be asking about, and then split up. Whatever they found out at Healing House would be left in a note for Kestral.

---

Within the Shtaran Empire, the worship of Niela, Moran, and Vieata is minor. They are deities to be respected and venerated and thanked; but true worship rarely happens. The religion is considered little more than a useful cult and the temples are rarely more than shrines contained within the building that serves as hospital and funeral home.

In Corlean, Healing House is a temple to Niela, Lady of Life, her husband Moran, Granter of Death, and their daughter, Vieta, Soul-Taker. The priests and priestesses of these gods heal when they can, ease the passing of life when they have to, and guard against the dark things that would keep a soul from its final fate.

The average person in Corlean is thankful for Healing House, but their attitudes are inline with Imperial beliefs. Still, the members of Healing House are kindly regarded and they receive a number of donations for their charitable works.

Jared, Jallarzi, and Kellron arrived on the steps of Healing House soon enough and were immediately asked to meet with Healer Abron, high priest to Niela. They are instead brought before a young woman clad in the white robes of the healers._

“I’m Healer Rowan.” Spoke the woman. Kellron can tell that she’s distressed about something, but is hiding it well. “I’m told you are from Sword House?” She asked, looking at Sarath’s symbol hanging from Jared’s neck.

“We are.” Affirmed Kellron, indicating himself and Jared. “This is journey-mage Jallarzi from the Library.”

“I see. You’re here about the wizards then?’

“We are.” Answered Jared. “We were hoping to meet with Healer Abron and see if there’s anything we can do to expedite their recovery.”

A bitter smile crossed Rowan’s mouth and disappeared. “Follow me.” She said abrubtly, standing and leading them from the meeting room. She leads them to a small wing and eventually to a large room taken up by a bed. Lying upon the bed was an older man in his late fifties, his black hair turning gray. His eyes were opened but his mind was elsewhere. A thin line of drool was being cleaned up by a distressed attendant. The attendant looked up at their entrance. “He’s no better, Rowan.” She said.

Rowan nodded. “This is Healer Abron. Whatever affected Master Asuras has affected him too. I’m afraid you will have to deal with me.”

“I don’t suppose you can cast a _heal_ spell, asked Jared, eyeing the twenty-something woman doubtfully.

She shook her head. “I’m one of the few that can cast any healing spells here, and that is far beyond my ability.” Her voice was apologetic.

“Damn.” Swore the priest. “I don’t suppose you have any scrolls about?”

Rowan looked a little taken aback at the question. “We do have some holy scrolls, relics of the altar. I have not the strength to use them though.”

“I can.” Said Jared. “Bring them here.”

Rowan bristled at the command. A virtual stranger was asking her to bring their most powerful relics and casually stated that he, a soldier, could use them where she couldn’t. She paused a moment to consider her options. A message was already on the way to Karos and she wasn’t sure she could trust this unknown soldier.

“I don’t think I should.” She started. “I don’t even know who you are…” Rowan didn’t get a chance to finish. Neither Jared or Jallarzi were willing to take no for an answer.

“You aren’t going to tell me no.” Started Jared, dropping into command mode***. “I have the ability to heal your high priest.” He told her waving at the bed. “I just don’t have the spell prepared right now.”

Jallarzi then spoke. “How do you think your master is going to feel if you wasted time and prevented him from his cure?” Asked the journey-wizard. “You could get into trouble for that.”

Rowan wavered for a moment, duty and protectiveness warring against hope Finally she relented. “Very well. Stay here. I’ll be back shortly with a scroll.”

A few minutes later Jared was looking over an unfurled scroll. He wasn’t as adept as Jallarzi in reading magic, so he had invoked a minor orison of reading. Satisfied that he understood what he was looking at, Jared began the invocation and touched Healer Abron’s brow. A pale, green glow suffused the old man’s body and he suddenly heaved.

“Look…!” Abron stopped himself and looked about, taking it all in. I take it that I have you to thank?” He asked Jared, eyeing the now blank scroll in the priest’s hand.

Jared smiled. “You do.” He nodded to Rowan. “She brought us the scroll to help heal you. We were hoping you can use it on the other afflicted wizards.”

Healer Abron took a deep breath and then got out of bed. “Then thank you very much for healing.” He looked to Rowan. “You did good Rowan. Is everyone else all right?”

“Yes sir. Only you and the wizards have been infected so far. We quarantined everyone else.”

“Good girl..” Abron then looked to Jared and extended his hand. “Again, thank you. Whatever aid I can give you, I will.”

Jared took the offered hand and shook it. “That’s good to hear. We think we know how the wizards were infected, but how were you taken?”

Abron grimaced. “I was trying to figure out why Master Asuras wasn’t responding to a prayer of _neutralize poison_. Him being a wizard and all, I thought I’d try and diagnose him with a _detect magic_. I figured there was a curse involved of some sort.”

Jared nodded. “He must have something on him that’s poisoned. If we take it off, you should be able…”

“I can’t.” Interrupted Abron.

“”What?”

“I don’t have the skill to reliably use the healing scrolls.” Said Abron apologetically. “That’s why they’re only to be used in emergencies. Do you know what kind of fall-out an improperly cast _heal_ spell could cause.”

Jared shuddered. “Point. I could cast it though."

“That’s what I was thinking. Unfortunately we only keep three here and you’ve already used one. Also, I don’t think Master Asuras has a cursed object on him; the curse was radiating from him.” He paused a moment letting that sink in.

“Under the circumstances I’ll give you one of the remaining healing scrolls. I have to keep one of them back just in case something happens.”

“Like now?” Asked Jallarzi, somewhat sarcastically.

Abron favored the wizard a long look. “Like if something happened to the Duke. Master Asuras was at the ducal estate when he collapsed.”

“Oh.”

Abron nodded. "We have a duty to the crown and we take it seriously. The good news is with what I now know, I think it likely that the wizards will recover on their own. The damage wasn't irrepairable. It's just going to take some time. The bad news is that I think I heard that Master Asuras sees magic naturally now. I think he would be reinfected every moment that he's still cursed.

_The three friends conversed with each other for a few minutes and made their decision. First they went to see Master Asuras. The most powerful wizard in Corlean was lying helplessly in bed, catatonic.

Steeling himself, Kellron opened up his divinely gifted ability to sense evil and he staggered under the weight of the spell enveloping the wizard. Like Jallarzi before him, his mental resistance buckled under the suddenness of the spell and he felt his reason flee – leaving him with the capacity of a six year old child. "It's bad evil." He told his friends.

Believing Master Asuras helpless right now, they proceed to use the scroll of heal on Master Wymeah. The spell works just as it had on Healer Abron. Once the master is told of what has happened, Jared asks Jallarzi to teleport Kellron back to Sword House. Hopefully Colonel Megara will be able to cast a restoration on the paladin. Meanwhile, Jared and Master Wymeah would look in on all the wizards brought in and see what else they can determine._

Jallarzi’s teleport brought her and Kellron directly to the steps of Sword House. She took Kellron’s arm and led him gently into the temple. The paladin smiled and followed her, trusting the wizard implicitly.

The acolytes and soldiers there quickly took note of their presence, and the senior one (a lieutenant thought Jallarzi), hurried over to them. “Where’s Jared?” Asked the young officer.

“He’s still at the Temple of Niela.” Answered Jallarzi. “We need to see Colonel Megara right away. Kellron’s been affected by a spell.”

The young officer looked concerned. “Then you haven’t heard? Colonel Megara went up to the Duke to plead for you. His Grace had her arrested on charges for conspiracy to fraud.”

“What? Why?”

“The Duke says that you three have evaded taxes on a king’s ransom of goods. Colonel Megara’s defense of you proved that she was in on the fraud.”

Jallarzi swore.

---

_*Jallarzi failed the Will save and took maximum initial damage from the psychic poison. Few things worry a wizard then losing six point of Intelligence in a single strike. As it was, her Headband of Intelligence +6 soaked up the initial damage.

**In retrospect I should have had the door-guardian be rendered senseless, since it can perform a number of divination type spells. That might have been eerier for the party. C’est la vie.

***Since Kestral wasn’t here, Jared tried intimidating the priestess with Jallarzi assisting. They succeeded._


----------



## Seravin

Psychic poison is one of my favorite effects out of the BoVD. It's evocative of the sink-hole of evil that drives others to madness.

That said, there were some things I hand-waved for purposes of the game. The biggest is that I assumed that all the wizards failed their Will saves. The DC would have been 20-22, but it's a Will save. Master Asuras has three permanent divination spell effects plus a detect scrying on himself so he had to make an automatic four saving throws when first exposed. Assuming 15th level and the DMG's Wizard NPC stats, he had a 50% chance of making any one of them. It was unlikely he would fail all three - and even if he did, it was even more unlikely that he would have been completely incapacitated on the first exposure.

Of course if the psychic poison was maximized or empowered...

At any rate, Master Asuras was then inflicted with an extended creature-based version of the poison. I ruled that he would be re-exposed roughly every fifteen minutes - based on the normal duration of his permancied spells.

Next, another extended psychic poison was cast on the Library building. I'd do that differently now, as I've since established that the majority of interior is actually a Mordenkainen's Mansion overlaying a normal building - sigh.

The poor apprentices and journey-mages who were going through their basic divination class all failed their saves and the assumption was that their stats weren't necesarily elite.
I also assumed that they didn't have the spellcraft necessary to recognize what was happening. So the class cast read magic, started encountering problems and those who could then cast detect magic.

In short, psychic posion made a good deus-ex machina way to disable the high-level mages in the city and create a crisis for the only other capable mages (the pc's) to solve.


One funny part (for me) was that this was the first time the players had an idea of how powerful they were becoming relative to the NPC's. They had all been warned that the average NPC was going to be low-level, with only a handful of high-level NPC's in certain places. It didn't really sink in until Jared's player found out that Jared had access to better healing then the High Priest of Niela. Heck, Jared's player didn't know it then, but he was now a higher level than his superior, Col. Megara.


----------



## Seravin

Quote:


> Originally Posted by Imruphel
> Handwaving is good when it keeps the game moving.
> 
> I'm really going to have a really good look at psychic poison ASAP!
> 
> You mentioned that the PCs are now becoming more powerful than certain NPCs. Have they considered building their own temples, founding their own guilds etc...? I'm asking this because one of the things at least one of my players wants to explore in our next campaign is what it means to become a power in a city, region or even a world. I'm looking forward to the forthcoming Power of Faerun for some help with this.





Psychic poison is a great plot device. My inner-child danced when I thought of using it.

The players have all thought about putting their mark on the land. Kellron already has Broken Spire Keep and his followers.
As for everyone else, we'll see soon enough what they did.

I have to agree that Power of Faerun would have been good to have before I started this. I'm interested in seeing what they do. For now, I'm now using the Reputation and Contact rules out of Unearthed Arcana. At least I am now - at this point of the campaign I was using a house rule of 1 contact per rank of Gather Information.

For that matter, some must have books for a Night Below campaign include:
Lords of Madness - WoTC
Underdark - WoTC
Tome of Horrors - Necromancer Games
I also suggest Monster Manual II, Monster Manual III, and Fiend Folio.


----------



## Seravin

*The Concerns of Wizards*

The room was warm despite the outside temperatures, but the cold knot in Master Wymeah’s belly still kept twisting about. The situation was bad. Not grave, not serious, not a cause for some concern; but bad. The little girl that she had been too many decades ago wanted her to run and hide. That girl was sixty years and more gone though; she was now a Master of the Library and it was time to shoulder her responsibilities.

Master Wymeah was still at Healing House, overseeing the healer’s efforts. Once Abron had fallen his healers had isolated the rest of the wizards, fearing some sort of infection. Besides Master Asuras, some eighteen other students were laying catatonic in a room that should have held only fifteen beds. Master Asuras was the worst off, sweating and quietly moaning as if experiencing some nightmare; but even the students were having problems. Some of them were now conscious, but their eyes held less intelligence than a dog. They were all frightened and incapable of reasoning beyond the fright.


_Eighteen…_
Master Wymeah began to count, matching faces to names. Maius, Presin, Lissa, Boren… Only eighteen apprentices and journey-mages. Five of the students were missing. Akin, Kel, Nayen, Sorrus and Tanin were not here. The cold knot in Wymeah’s belly tightened and she fled the room, seeking a healer.

---

“I _watched_ them load the carriages!” Master Wymeah’s voice was not shrill; not quite. “They were all sent over!”

Master Abron’s face was grave. “I understand that Master Wymeah; but all the wizards we received were placed in that room once my staff thought a disease was at work. If you would accompany me though, we will check the rest of the ward and make sure they weren’t misplaced.”

Master Wymeah nodded, tight-lipped. She would look, but she already knew they wouldn’t find the students. She wondered if she could dare use a divination of her own. Who knew what poisoned buildings lay about.

---

It was all wrong; terribly wrong. Master Wymeah couldn’t tell what was happening, but she could see an edge. The Corlean Library was being attaked by someone very clever. Master Asuras, the most powerful of the wizards in Corlean, was poisoned; his own permanently applied magics being used against him. Then their own building was poisoned, felling her students. It was dumb luck that Wymeah herself wasn’t felled earlier by the poisoned building, but the City Watch request to capture Jallarzi had interrupted her divination attempts.

Someone wanted the Library out of the way. Master Wymeah grimaced, a part of her wanting to fight, but she had other duties right now. Master Shallon wasn’t due back for weeks so it was her decision alone. She needed to get the remaining students and Master Asuras to safety first before anyone else disappeared. Afterwards she would find her missing charges.

Jallarzi and the priests Jared and Kellron were visiting another nearby church, a shrine to Tasa, the earth mother to see if everything was okay there. She would warn Jallarzi of the missing students, as she was an obvious next target, and then take her students home. So deciding, Master Wymeah went to find a private room to perform a _sending_.


----------



## Seravin

*Information is Power*

_Still disguised as Semina, Kestral drifted through the streets of Corlean, making her way from one tavern to another, ducking into inns and gaming halls. Something big was happening, she could feel it; and Grandal Deverex was only a part of it. Grandal was the only puzzle piece she had though.

It was just past midnight when Kestral finally made her weary way to the Library by way of Healing House. Jallarzi had left a note on where they were staying that evening and their new status as tax evaders. The young woman didn’t let herself dwell on the last bit. She just wanted to find a bed now._

In the morning the four friends met in the non-formal dining room where the apprentices and journey-mages would normally take their morning meals. Bread, cheese, and fruit made up their meal as Kellron was unwilling to experiment with the magical devices in the kitchen. Over this meal Kestral revealed what she had discovered.

“I first tried to find out what I could on what happened at The Gaming Den and with Grandal in particular.” Started Kestral. “The general consensus is that somebody is mad at Quereth Holtson. It seems he owns The Gaming Den and has some sort of percentage of The Blue Gorgon. The theory is that whoever hit the two places wanted to hurt Quereth. Unfortunately the eye witnesses all agree that it was you three.”

Kestral looked at Jallarzi. “Whoever it really was has your tactics pegged down. The rumors are pretty explicit that the sorceress used fireballs, lightning bolts, and magic missiles.”

“How many missiles at a time?” Queried the wizard.

“Three, two less then I’ve seen you cast.” Answered Kestral, proud that she had thought to ask the same thing. “The interesting thing is that the woman apparently killed two people just by glaring at them. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that.”

Jallarzi pursed her lips. “No.”

Kestral shrugged and continued. “Grandal Deverex is Quereth’s right-hand man...er half-elf; he apparently grew up with Quereth. Grandal has a reputation for being a ruthless business-man and he seems to know everything – or can find it out.” Kestral’s mouth quirked. “Some says his connections seem almost supernatural. They probably are, Grandal was seen using magic for the first time at The Gaming Den. No one knew that he was wizard before this.

Which brings us to Father Dark. I didn’t find out anything new on the man. He’s still more myth than man; only seen with a black, silk hood, and likes to employ children for small tasks.” She grinned. “The rumor on the street is that he’s angry at two Sarathians and has a small bounty on their heads.” Her smile faded. “He’s also looking for a woman named Kestral, who’s also seen with the Sarathians.” She shrugged. “That’s all I could find out about him.”

Unsaid was that they all suspected Grandal as being Father Dark. What Kestral had heard had only confirmed their suspicion. Still, there was no proof and Grandal was now apparently gone.

Kestral let the news sink in before continuing. “I did here some other rumors that are just as interesting, but I’m not sure if they’re relevant.”

“Let’s hear them.” Said Kellron.

Kestral mentally reviewed what she had learned and then took a deep breath. “The biggest news in town is that the Duke’s daughter is getting married. Soon. Apparently a Baron Toruk Roth came south through the pass to request some help in dealing with raids. He and Lady Gabrella apparently fell madly in love with each other.”

Kestral looked puzzled. “There are two odd things about all of this. The first is that Duke sent his soldiers north, along with reinforcements from the church of Sarath; but the Baron stayed behind with his advisor.

The second is that the wedding is happening very quickly, in the next two weeks in fact. The short timing is making security difficult, especially with most of the soldiers up north now. The Heralds and the City Watch are apparently stretching themselves thin to provide security. That should keep them off our backs for the next few days.”

The other thing strange thing that I heard was that there’s some sort of new group in town. They’re up in the North Quarter and the few people I found who talked about them said they were strange folk and best avoided. Rumor has it that one of their number is a person of power; meaning a wizard of some sort I suppose.”

Kestral took a drink for her cup before continuing. “Some of the guards are talking about how Master Asuras fell ‘sick’. The Duke had asked Asuras to divine an object for him. The wizard cast his spell and fell sick.

That’s about all I could find out of interest. What about you guys?”

Jallarzi, Jared, and Kellron all scowled. It was Kellron who answered. “You heard about our new criminal status?”

“That we’re tax evaders? I did.”

Kellron scowled. “We were fortunate that Sword House was more than a little outraged at Colonel Megara’s arrest. They healed the damage the poison did to me and let us go. Jallarzi then teleported us to Healing House*. Seeing how someone managed to take out both the Library and senior healer at Healing House, we thought we’d pay a visit to the shrine of Tasa, just in case someone was deliberately attacking more than the wizards. The acolyte there was fine and said the priest had left earlier to help with someone injured by an overturned carriage. After that we came here.

The only good news is that Master Wymeah promised to intercede with the Duke for us. As a member of the Library she falls outside the normal tax setup. Hopefully she’ll be able to convince the Duke that we were just ignorant and didn’t mean to evade taxes.” Kellron didn’t add that he thought it was unlikely, but the help was appreciated.

“So what do we do today?’ Asked Jallarzi.

“I think we should stay put.” Suggested Jared. “We’re still wanted by the City Watch after all. We can talk with Master Wymeah and see what she can shed some light on what we do know.”

“Especially Shalzerith.” Murmured Jallarzi.

“Especially him.” Agreed Jared.

Kestral swiped the last bit of apple from the serving tray. “I can go out again. I can speak with Watch Herald Ladea and see what she has to say about the tax thing as well as the attacks.”

Kellron frowned, but it was a good suggestion. They couldn’t just hide. They needed more information.

---
_
*Well most of the way. She boofed her first roll teleport roll (seen once) and ended up about 400yds short. They hoofed it from there._


----------



## Seravin

Quote:


> Originally Posted by Joshua Randall
> Am I sensing some frustration among the players/PCs? I know that when I play, I hate feeling like events are spiraling out of control and I am helpless to intervene. (Heck, avoiding that helpless feeling is one of the reasons I play D&D!)





Yes and no. I was actually thinking about this last night for a dm-problem post for later; but now is okay.

I've talked to Kestral's player and she said there was some initial frustration - but that was due to a lack of information. Once the info started coming in, she felt much better. I think the other players feel the same.

That was probably the biggest problem with this particular arc - the information gathering took about 2 or 3 game sessions; which was way too long. Part of it was just unfortunate pacing. I wanted all the players to hear what was going on which took forever and left some players out at any given time as they split their efforts.

Part of it was the players wanted to sit tight until they got as much info as they could - which was smart playing, but the timing didn't work out. We'd finish the session and at the next session they had more questions. You would think that someone would invent a way for a group of widely separated people to communicate, like the postal service, but faster. Using a computer maybe. Oh. Wait. E-mail.

What I should have done was do all or most of the information gathering in email. Which is what I used for later games to pretty good effect. Unfortunately, this arc had a really slow start.

From my perspective, despite the slow start, it was a pretty good game. There was a fairly strong plot, it closed some older plot threads, and the party got to stretch themselves. And they stretched my skills too. They were all 12th-plus level Jared wasn't shy with the planar ally spell.


----------



## Seravin

*The Council of Wizards*

A weary-looking Wymeah made her way to the dining hall as Kellron, Jared, and Jallarzi were clearing their dishes. It looked as if the woman had been up all night. In point of fact, she had. Making her way to the chair at the head of the table she sat down and invoked an _unseen servant_. “Breakfast.” She ordered it.

The others got out of the way as platters and a table setting jumped off the shelves and set themselves in front of the tired looking wizard.

Master Wymeah looked at them. “Good morning, I hope you slept well.” Food started floating in from the kitchen.

They mutely nodded their assent, with Jared being the first to speak. “You look tired, is everything all right?”

Master Wymeah waved a dismissive hand. “Well enough. I was up all night making sure the students and Master Asuras were made comfortable in the Valley*. It took all evening. Still, Kerress Ryliegha says they should heal in time.” She paused. “I’ll be locking up the buildings here in Corlean this morning. As of today only wizards and their escorted guests will be permitted inside until these events are resolved.”

Jallarzi set her plates down and moved close to Wymeah. “Master? Do you mind if we ask you some questions before you go to bed?”

The wizard reached for an apple. “As long as you don’t mind if I eat between sentences.”

“Not at all.”

Jared was the first to ask a question though, interjecting while Jallarzi gathered her thoughts. “Do you know anything about devils?” He asked.

Wymeah eyed him thoughtfully but answered truthfully. “A bit of the theory; but I’ve never seen one.”

“Do you know how a devil would come to be here in the city?”

That startled her. “Have you seen one?”

“Two nights ago.” Confirmed the priest.

“I see.” She thought for a moment and then started speaking as if she was instructing a class. “The easiest way is through the use of the basic summoning. It takes an accomplished journey-mage to summon any of the more dangerous creatures though and the duration is extremely short; even for a master.

After that there’s a spell of _planar binding_. The duration of a binding is significantly longer, lasting the duration of the negotiated task; but it’s extremely dangerous for the caster as she has to force the creature to do her bidding. Similarly, some dark priests are able to summon the creatures too. That method is much safer as the creatures are effectively allies to their master.”

Jared absorbed it but was disappointed that there wasn’t some obvious solution to their problem. It did suggest that the devil was probably summoned somehow, and that meant they might be facing a powerful spellcaster. “Thank you.’

Jallarzi caught Wymeah’s eye. “Do you know anything about Master Shalzerith?

The segue was a little jarring, but Master Wymeah shifted gears smoothly enough. “Why? Have you met him?”

“Yes.” Answered the younger wizard. “He was here two days ago asking me to take lunch with him.”

“Interesting. I wasn’t aware he was here, but I was a little busy.” She collected her thoughts and then continued. “He’s been a master now for about ten years or so. I think he took apprenticeship just as I became the senior journey-wizard at the Valley if I recall correctly. He’s unconventional, eccentric really, but harmless. He keeps mostly to himself, somewhere in the mountains near Rennon. I think his specialty is conjuration, and he’s supposed to be quite good at it.”

“A summoner?” Asked Kellron, drawing a connection between the devil and the wizard.

Wymeah saw where he was going and shook her head. “I doubt he was behind your devil. It’s not like him; he prefers esoteric planar theory.” She snorted. “He thinks he can achieve god-hood if he becomes a powerful enough wizard.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Obviously eccentric, but he’s not going to waste time dealing with fiends. He certainly understands that it’s only a matter of time before they would betray him.”

Kellron wasn’t entirely convinced, but accepted it in silence.

Wymeah eyed Jallarzi thoughtfully. "In some ways he's like yourself. He's quite bright and driven. He's not quite fifty, and he's already a respected master."

---

The three let Master Wymeah finish her breakfast and finished clearing their own plates. By the time they were finish, Wymeah had completed her own meal.

“I’m off to bed.” She announced. “After I wake I’ll see if I can gain an audience with his Grace and see about this tax problem of yours.”

“Thank you.” Said Kellron. “Do you happen to know anything about the city taxes?”

Wymeah considered. “I am not completely certain, as the Library itself is tax free; though we provide a certain amount of services to the city in return. I believe however that taxes can run up to 10% on luxury items.”

All three of the companions winced.

Master Wymeah nodded sympathetically. “I’ll see what I can do. It does seem an honest mistake. You haven’t actually been living in the city, and only occasionally visiting. His Grace can be a reasonable man so I suspect we can clear it up shortly.”


---

_*The Valley is another term used for the Library. The main structure is in a valley far to the south._


----------



## Seravin

Quote:


> Originally Posted by AsEver
> For me as a player (of Kestrel) it was somewhat frustrating as all these events were conspiring against us. It was probably worse for all the others. At least I could wander about town in a different face without worrying about being arrested.
> 
> I clearly remember a point at which the lightbulb went on in my head: this is exactly what happened in Blasingdale in "Speaker in Dreams"! I confonted Seravin with that and he just gave me the Evil DM Grin (tm). Different campaign, different PC's, but the same plot.
> 
> I was more relaxed after that. It was hard to keep the player knowledge apart from the PC knowledge, but at least I knew there would be a way out, eventually.





AsEver made the connection almost immediately - by this last session of questioning, as the next update will reveal.


----------



## Seravin

*Talking to the Man...er Lady*

Watch-Herald Ladea let loose a great sigh and closed her eyes. Rubbing the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger, she leaned back in her chair and wondered if she would have to see an apothecary for the coming headache. Sudden weddings, strange cultists, sick wizards, and now…this. So far she and the Watch were managing to keep things under control, but this latest warrant, direct from the Duke, promised to drop the wheels off the cart as it were. At three-plus decades it was a wonder her black hair wasn’t gray.

She opened her ebony black eyes and looked about her small office. Lighting was provided by a small magical globe in which an enchanted, cold flame danced. She had expended part of her first year’s budget on it, figuring in the long run that she would end up saving money on candles and eye-strain. The cheery, yellow light illuminated what otherwise should have been a dark, windowless room. Against one wall was an armoire where she kept her spare uniform and some more discreet clothes and props. The other walls were covered with bright hangings. Her heavy battered desk dominated the room, and was made of some light-colored, local wood; amazingly her chairs matched the desk. Behind her were three, large iron-bound chests; all of them locked and holding various bits of evidence or private correspondence.

All in all she had a pretty good office. Watch-Commander’s Jessup’s was larger, but he had larger problems. This one fit her comfortably enough. It looked like today she would have to earn it.

Approaching steps caught her attention and Ladea wondered who it was. Her office was down a little-used corridor, sharing the hall with the armory, a couple storage closets, and an evidence room. Ladea had personally chosen it when offered space in the Watch House, because only those with a reason came down the hall; allowing her a bit of peace as well as privacy.

The steps stopped at her door and there was a brief pause. Then there was a firm double-knock. Ladea’s left eyebrow raised slightly. It sounded like a woman's knock. She wondered for a moment if it was…no that was wishful thinking.

“Enter.” Invited the Watch-Herald.

The door opened and Ladea almost sputtered. A woman of medium height with long brown hair and hazel eyes stood there. She was dressed in neat, comfortable traveling clothes and was looking at the Watch-Herald with some askance. Apparently it wasn’t wishful thinking after all. Her day was about to get even more complicated.

Recovering, she greeted her guest. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” She waved towards the two chairs in front of her desk. “Have a seat, Kestral. We have a lot to talk about.”

Kestral Thendry grimaced and walked into the room, closing the door silently behind her. She had been afraid of Ladea getting involved on the official side of things, and it looks like she had been right. She sat down and gave her friendliest, most sincere smile. “Good morning, Ladea. I hope things are going well.”

“Well enough. What brings you here? Just arrive in town?”

Kestral caught the probing behind the question. “No. I’ve been in Corlean for awhile. I’ve come to you about a problem.” Ladea raised her eyebrow, letting Kestral continue. “It seems there’s a mis-understanding between us and the Duke.” Admitted the young woman.

Ladea snorted. “That is an understatement. In point of fact your friends are listed on two separate warrants. One is for assault, murder, vandalism, and kidnapping. The other is for tax evasion. A woman who may be known as Kestral or Semina is also listed on the second warrant as a possible accessory.” Ladea favored her probationary-Herald with a long look. “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t just arrest you now?”

“Because it doesn’t conclusively name me? Because it’s all a mis-understanding?” Offered the young woman.

Ladea chewed her lower lip for a second. “What kind of mis-understanding?” She asked finally.

Kestral’s hazel eyes looked levelly into Ladea’s. “We’ve only ever been asked about taxes once when entering the city. We truthfully answered the guard’s question.” She shrugged. “We didn’t _know_ that we owed taxes. We got the bulk of our gear from the last few trips and every time we came back into town Jallarzi teleported us.

“Really?” It sounded plausible, and more it was consistent with Kestral’s earlier reporting. Of course tax evasion, while serious, was the least of her worries. “And the first warrant? As a known friend of the assailants you make one hell of a material witness.”

“Did you hear about yesterday morning?” Asked Kestral.

“The assault on the Blue Gorgon. Yes.”

Kestral shook her head. “I was referring to my friends giving themselves up and then being released because of an obvious frame-up.”

“No. I can’t say I heard that story.”

Kestral nodded, suspecting as much. Briefly she described her adventure with Captain Zed and his folks, admitting to her Semina identity but leaving out her own magical disguises. She also spoke of her friend’s conversation with the captain. Ladea’s interest peaked at the shape-changing guard who took on Jallarzi’s appearance.

Ladea picked up and played with the quill on her desk, thinking. “So Captain Zed relased your friends?” Kestral nodded and Ladea smiled grimly. “His paperwork on the capture, much less the release, seems to be a little tardy. I suspect it will be several days before the paperwork routes properly given how short-staffed everyone is.” Ladea tapped the quill on her desk a few times and came to a decision. “Who am I to argue with the captain? I think I agree with his reasoning too.”

“Thank you.” Said Kestral. “We’ll do anything we can to help you, but I came here to get some information too and was hoping you could help.”

“Information is what I’m supposed to be good at.” Said Ladea, somewhat sardonically. “Though lately it feels like none of it makes sense.” She shook her head. “Ask away.” She invited.

Kestral gathered her thoughts. She had a lot of things to ask that she felt were connected, but not logically apparent. “On the matter of tax evasion. We didn’t know. How did the Duke find out?”

“That came out of the investigation. All the witnesses agreed that your friends had dropped over seventy-five thousand lions at the table. Apparently the Duke, or more likely his new advisor, was keeping tabs on the investigation. It was mentioned to his Grace that that was an awful lot of gold for mercenaries to be spending. It didn’t take long to verify that none of that gold was reported to anyone. Further there was mention that you and your friends have been selling quite of bit of merchandise. We’ve been directed to meet with various merchants to see if we can verify that.”

She frowned. “I heard this came up while Colonel Megara was meeting with his Grace. She apparently said something wrong and was arrested as part of a conspiracy to defraud the duchy of its rightful income.”

Kestral nodded unhappily. “We’re pretty certain that we’re being setup by Father Dark.” She went on to explain the letter they had received about Ashimar’s soul.

“I agree.” Said Ladea. “He certainly sounds like he has the means and motive. The only problem I see is that if your suspicions are correct and if he is Grandal Deverex...” She trailed off.

“Unless that was also staged.”

“Granted.”

“Whoever it is has been able to get a lot of information on us. Who has that kind of ability?”

“Besides the Heralds?” Laedea pasued to think, then continued. “There would be Master Asuras of the Library, Grandal Deverex, any of the bigger merchant houses, and of course Father Dark.

Kestral couldn’t think of any more questions on that topic so shifted. “What happened to Erica? I thought she was left in the Herald’s care.”

Ladea’s voice went flat. “She was. Herald Kaytryn was killed a few weeks ago in an accident.” It was obvious what Ladea thought about the Herald’s death. Erica was adopted by Kaytryn’s newest neighbors. We’re stretched so thin we decided to let it be and keep an eye on her. The last report was that Erica is healthy and doing well.”

Kestral disagreed but let it pass for now. “Do you think Father Dark has any informants in the government; capable of influencing the Duke?”

“Maybe. I’m certain he has some influence. We’ve had a few investigations, not many, that were derailed. It was always for the best of reasons, but it was always just a bit too convenient for the suspect. I doubt he has anyone with the Duke’s ear though. His Grace is an honorable man and faithful to Latina.”

Kestral ignored that. “You said you're stretched thin. What’s going on?”

Ladea snorted. “Lady Gabrella is marrying Baron Toruk Roth. While it’s wonderful that her Ladyship has found her true love, it’s damned inconvenient that her father allowed them to get married so quickly.” She shook her head. “I thought spring wedding were the in-thing, but Lady Gabrella couldn’t wait. Rumor says she must be pregnant for such a fast wedding, but as far as I can tell, that’s not the case.”

“How does that affect you.”

“Heralds traditionally peform herald duties at these sorts of things. We also help organize security; you can bet everyone in the city is going to want to attend. We and the Watch are being tapped in setting up the Square and Latina’s Cathedral as well as figuring out the security issues."

Kestral thought it all over. In the back of her head it all fit together; somehow. It was just so…familiar. “You know about Master Asuras falling sick as well as the rest of the Library; and now Colonel Megara has been arrested on the flimsiest of excuses. Grandal has disappeared and it seems like someone is trying to neutralize Kellron, Jared, and Jallarzi. Do you know of anything that’s happened recently where a city's important people were systematically taken out?”

Ladea looked curiously at Kestral and then paled slightly. If this was a similar case... “I think I may have mentioned Blasingdale to you earlier.” Kestral nodded, not really sure if Ladea had or not, but letting her continue. “Some sort of sorcerous creature appeared there this summer and came within a hairs-breadth of actually taking over the town. He…It methodically destroyed every possible bastion of restistance before it made itself known. By Hyla’s luck, a group of mercenaries happened to be in town and took it upon themselves to deal with the problem. Apparently it managed to drive off the Library there, killed the Watch Commander, organized riots in the streets, and arranged for the Temple of Latina to be outlawed and desecrated.”

The Watch Herald tried to remember more details, but she was going to have to look over the report again. “His Grace decided to keep it as quiet as possible, so it was blamed on a rogue wizard; but I do know the creature was described as human-like but not human.”

“So just how is the temple of Latina?” Asked Kestral conversationally.

“So far, just fine. You’re not making me feel better about this.”

“Sorry.”

“Don't be. I'm suppose to be paranoid. I'll add that to the list of things to look into. So what now?

Kestral shrugged. “I thought I would poke about town some more. I’d like to meet with those same merchants and see if anyone has been…pressured into making false statements.” She thought of something. “I don’t suppose you’d give me a couple days to investigate this myself before you start?”

Ladea stared at her nominal charge for a moment. “You want me to give you, a material witness and possibly a defendant in a serious case, two days to meet with witnesses before I or the Watch interviews them.”

“Uh-huh.” Kestral's radiated an almost beatific sincerity.

Ladea closed her eyes momentarily. The girl had to be a witch. She sounded so reasonable and trustworthy. Ladea wanted to help her. Instead she heaved a great sigh. “I think there might be a slight conflict of interest there.” She pointed out. “However, like I said, we’re stretched thin. It’s entirely possible I won’t be able to start this until later today.”

Kestral smiled her thanks.

“Anything else?” Sighed Ladea.

“I don’t…Oh wait. There is one thing. I heard rumors about a strange group of people in the North Quarter. Have you heard of them?”

“North Quarter? Oh. Them.” Ladea waved a dismissive hand. “We heard about them a couple weeks ago. I had an agent checking on them for about three days. They’re a small cult of Braenites, worshippers of the Great Wind. My agent says their harmless, if somewhat annoying.”

Kestral stood. “Well, thank you. I think I might check back later today.”

Ladea nodded. “Please keep in regular contact. Obviously something strange is happening. Hopefully working together we can stop it before it disrupts the wedding.”


----------



## Seravin

*Wizard Talk*

Jallarzi, Jared, and Kellron were quietly occupying themselves in the formal waiting room of the Corlean Library. Today the walls were paneled in a white wood with elven silk tapestries adding a bit of color. The furniture was done in the halfling style, sturdy and overstuffed. One wall was hidden completely by bookshelves filled with books on history, language, plant-life, and spellcraft. A table against another wall held a selection of refreshments and glasses to drink from.

Jared and Kellron had each pulled down a book from the shelf and had seated themselves in comfortable chairs to peruse. Jallarzi, having claimed the sole couch, was studying her spellbook; while Sarah, her cat, was quietly napping against her mistress. The young wizard was worrying at two particularly thorny problems for her. Earlier yesterday she had missed her teleport point and she was trying to figure out how avoid that next time. The problem was that a guaranteed teleport seemed to be more complex then she could handle right now. Her other problem was more of a fun project, trying to deconstruct how a prismatic spray spell actually work. The white-haired wizard knew she was close to solving both problems, but she wasn’t quite there yet.

That’s when the door swung open without warning. The three companions were still wary, given their status as criminals, and all turned to look to the doorway. Standing there was an older man with neatly kept, short silver hair and piercing gray eyes. Jallarzi recognized Shalzerith immediately, but did not lose her wariness. She did stand in respect though, as did Kellron and Jared.

The mustachioed wizard gave a small smile in greeting to all three, but seemingly dismissed the two armored men and focused on Jallarzi. “Journey-wizard Jallarzi, it is quite good to see you again.” Greeted the man. His voice was deep and strong, despite his relative thinness. His smile all but disappeared. “I’ve heard of the spell-poisoning here and hoped you were unharmed?”

Jallarzi genuflected courteously enough and waved a hand to her friends, introducing them. “Mostly.” She answered. “This is Kellron and Jared. They’re friends of mine. Jared healed me.”

Shalzerith met the gaze of both men with a steady look of his own. “Good morning, gentlemen, and thank you…Jared, was it?”

Jared nodded. “Yes. Jallarzi is a friend of ours.” Jared’s voice was cool but polite.

Turning his attention back to Jallarzi, Shalzerith continued. “Are you still up for lunch?”

“About that…” Jallarzi trailed off. “Can I speak with you privately?” She asked.

“Certainly.” Shalzerith was pleased at the implied trust. “There’s a room just down the hall.”

Nodding acceptance, Jallarzi looked at Jared and Kellron. “I’ll come back.” She told them.

Sarah didn’t move from the couch, though she watched her mistress leave the room. She was to be Jallarzi’s voice in case something untoward happened.

Shalzerith led Jallarzi to the Blue Room, just two doors down the hallway. Inviting her to sit, he picked out a chair of his own. “I assume,” he started, “that something has happened?”

“I’m afraid so.” She confirmed. “Yesterday we were framed for attacking a man then we found out we were wanted for tax evasion.”

Shalzerith pondered that for a moment. “Assault and tax evasion? Did you?”

Jallarzi started to shake her head and then shrugged. “We didn’t attack the man. We were nowhere near him. The tax evasion thing is a mis-understanding.”

“I see. Can you tell me anymore?”

Jallarzi hesitated briefly. It was obvious to her that the older wizard seemed interested in her and she wasn’t sure she wanted to invite that kind of attention. Master Shalzerith was a powerful wizard though and could certainly provide help of some sort. Making her decision, Jallarzi proceeded to describe briefly the events at the Blue Gorgon and the attack on Grandal Deverex. She left out the details of Ashimar’s soul and any reference to Kestral. She then mentioned how she found out about the tax evasion charges.

Shalzerith seemed impressed. “It seems,” he said “that you have made some enemies.”

Jallarzi frowned. It wasn’t a very helpful observation, but Shalzerith continued before she could offer a rejoinder.

“It might be that I could be of help.” He offered.

“How so?”

“I’m not without resources." He pointed out. "It seems the simplest thing to do would be to take revenge on the people persecuting you; perhaps even find something to deal with the devil you mentioned.” His smile had a touch of arrogance. “I know how to bind things myself and I suspect I could find something suitable. We’ll need to answer a few questions though.”

Shalzerith quizzed Jallarzi for another ten minutes, trying to find out the details of the devil they had met and what Jallarzi knew of her foe. Unfortunately it became quickly apparent that Jallarzi didn’t have enough information.

“Perhaps revenge is premature.” Conceeded Shalzerith, leaning back into his chair. “It sounds like you…we need more information. Fortunately for us, my resources still apply. I can seek an audience with things not of this world and see what they know. It’s not without risk, but I could do this.”*

Jallarzi was cautious. “What kind of things?”

Smiling, the Master answered. “Powerful, knowledgeable things. Not fiends, if that’s what you are worried about. My researches have been particularly fruitful though and I have found planar-locations never before kenned. I dare say I am one of only a handful of wizards who even knows of the existence of these planes.”

Jallarzi looked confused, but let it pass to focus on the offer of help. “If you think these things can help then we accept.” She said. “We need all the information we can get.”

Shalzerith stood. “Well then, I’ll see what I can find out. We’ll have to dine together some other time. I know of a place in Karos that I think you would like.”

Jallarzi smiled wanly, still not sure she appreciated Shalzerith’s attentions; but willing to accept his help.

Shalzerith saw this and let it go. “I’ll contact you as soon as I find something out.” He promised.

---
_
*Contact Other Plane._


----------



## Seravin

Quote:


> Originally Posted by Imruphel
> Yes and I've also read your latest. All I can say is... POST MORE!!! I'm really enjoying the intrigue!





Well, as AsEver pointed out, the intrigue isn't quite mine. This was a high-level take-off on the Speaker in Dreams module. The structure of the module is pretty good and it happened to fit with what I wanted to do.

When I settled on using the base structure of the moduel I at first wanted to use demons and such; but I couldn't make it work. I spent 2-3 weeks (off and on) worrying away at how to make it work. Then I started to make changes to my initial idea and suddenly ended up with LE monsters.

The thing is that LE monsters work together pretty well and have the charm-type powers. I already knew I was working with illithid, so I knew I had to use them, and the illithid really wouldn't work _with _anything too chaotic (use, yes. ally with, no).

I still can't believe how fast AsEver pegged to the origin though. That was like magic; but she correctly sussed out that the power-players were being steadily taken out, just like the time in Blasingdale. With her 18 Intelligence, I didn't really have any problem with Kestral running with a similar hunch who had at least heard of the events in Blasingdale.

Still, I wish I could have altered the timing somewhat. This session represents the last session before the action started (one small post to go). I had already started to sense the boredom and had resolved to speed things up by this point. Later after the game, Jared's player and I talked and he confirmed that he was bored. So in about two posts we'll shift gears with a fireball.

One of the odd things about our gaming group, which most people who post here don't seem to experience, is that about one session in six turns out to be an admin session. Partly this is due to dealing with the technical problems of a web-based game. Mostly it's that we don't spend any time out of session doing anything like levelling or what not.

So when folks left the underdark there was a session for levelling, deciding what loot to sell, figuring out what to do with downtime, etc. The next session was the scenes at the Blue Gorgon and some miscellaneous information gathering. Then the third session was more info-gathering.

So there was a fair amount of die rolls for the social stuff, but the only fight in three games was with some throw-away watch-folk.
At least I learned a bit from all of this. The biggest thing was using email to deal with events between sessions (splitting loot, decisions on what to sell, basic info rolls, etc). We still have that one session in six (or so) that's still mostly admin, but it doesn't happen much more often than that now.


----------



## Seravin

*Reporting Back*

_The day was long, and by the time Kestral made her way back to the comfort of the Library she was ready for a warm bed and blessed sleep. It didn’t take her long to find Jallarzi and the others, in truth because of the door-knocker gave her directions to the kitchen.

Over hot-tea the four friends exchanged their tales of the day. Jallarzi related Master Sharlzerith’s visit and his offer. After talking about it not they decided that not one of them trusted the older mage. He seemed too convenient, but if his intentions were honest they had no doubt that he could be useful. At least he denied dealing with fiends.

Kestral in turn related her conversation with Watch Herald Ladea._

“…after that I went to visit every shop I could remember that we sold gear to.” Kestral wrapped her cold hands around her mug. “I know it’s a warmer day, but it’s too cold to be just walking around out there.” She complained as she took another drink. “They all said that I was the first one to be asking questions. Some of them looked a little nervous, but I think they were telling the truth.” She shrugged. “It might be worth paying the nervous ones a visit though.”

“Should we?” Asked Kellron quietly.

Everyone looked at him and thought over the question.

“Grandal isn’t really our concern.” Pointed out the soldier, who suddenly looked weary. “Our job is to get the kidnapped Imperial citizens back. We can’t do it from jail or running from thieves. Colonel Megara is already in jail for helping us and the wizards are effectively gone.”

Jared nodded slowly. “Jallarzi could always teleport us to another city; we don’t need to come back here.”

“Is that what you’re suggesting?” Asked Kestral. She wasn’t arguing the choice, just curious.

Kellron sighed and wave a dismissive hand. “No. Not really. I’m just bringing it up as a suggestion. The only fight we really have here is with Grandal, and he’s apparently gone. If this is really like what happened in Blasingdale though, then we can expect something to happen to the Duke.” He snorted somewhat disgustedly. “I can’t wait to get back to the tunnels where we didn’t have to worry about stuff like this.”

Everyone made sympathetic noises.

Taking another drink, Kestral looked up. “Well, Ladea has also offered to intercede for us with the Duke.” She then smiled at a sudden thought. “She also promised to help with Erica, presuming you don’t mind.” She added looking at Kellron.

“How so?” He asked, somewhat suspiciously.

“I wanted her to place Erica with a new family, someone who wasn’t obviously under Grandal’s control.” She shook her head with irritation. “She wouldn’t do it at first, saying she didn’t have the manpower. So I asked her to send Erica to Broken Spire. She can be a lady-in-waiting for Tore.”

Kellron nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a good idea. It means she can’t be used against us and should be safe enough with Tore. I’ll write a letter to Tore for you.”

“Thank you.” Said the young woman gratefully. Erica wasn’t really her sister but she felt responsible for the young child.

“Anything else?” Asked Jallarzi.

“Only one last thing. On my second visit to Ladea I started questioning her about Master Asuras’ illness. It seems the object the Duke gave Master Asuras was some sort of amulet taken from a slain barbarian. Baron Roth brought it south with him and said he knew it was magical and asked the Duke to get the wizard to identify it for him. Ladea said that the baron was quite sorry about what happened. She seemed to think he was being truthful; but who knows?”

The conversation faded shortly afterwards and when they were done with their drinks the four friends went to find their beds.


----------



## Seravin

*The Wizard in the Bedroom with a Fireball*

*BWUH-WUH-UHMPH!*

_Fireball!_ Identified Jallarzi’s sub-conscious as her eyes snapped opened at the muffled sound. She had just drifted off to sleep but the familiar sound had wakened the half-elven wizardess for all that the door and walls of the Library had muted the sound.

Still not quite thinking, the white-haired woman rolled out of bed and gained her feet. In her mind’s eye she could see the churining, red-orange flames roiling out from a central point in space; evoked from a state of dormant potential. By then she was on her feet and reaching for her backpack with its all important stash of wands. Only once her hands were on the pack did she fumble for the wicker shield covering the _everburning_ candle.

Her hand then grabbed for her precious white-crystal Staff of Frost as she ticked off the magical words that described all that a _fireball_ was. Evocation [Fire], requiring a material component. Standard casting, range out to six-hundred feet or greater. A sphere of roiling flames that only the most dextrous or lucky could avoid.

Jallarzi closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was in the Library in Corlean, in the sleeping quarter wing. Right now only Master Wymeah and herself should be the only two people in the building capable of casting a _fireball_. There was a small study at the front of the hall next to the stairwell (Jallarzi had claimed the room the previous night as the senior journey-wizard) and it was almost certainly the source of the spell.

Jallarzi lifted her free hand and invoked a spell of _improved invisibility_. Once the illusion was settled the woman looked at Sarah. “See if you can get Jared’s or Kellron’s attention.” She ordered while reaching for the door knob.

Sarah nodded, resisting any impulse to yawn. The cat understood that Master Wymeah wouldn’t be letting off spells in the middle of the night just for the fun of it.

The door opened and Jallarzi stepped into the wide, windowless hallway. The _everburning_ torches that normally dotted this end of the hallway were gone, but there was a muted, flickering light from the open study door. It wasn’t good light but Jallarzi’s elven-gifted sight showed two, strange-looking, hunched figures just exiting the room.

Quick-stepping, Jallarzi hustled down the hallway as fast as she dared, trying to be silent at the same time. She wasn’t Kestral, but her bare feet didn’t slap terribly loud on the cold stone either. Once she had closed about half the distance, perhaps fifteen feet away from the figures, Jallarzi caught sight of the tentacles; mind flayers - and they were carrying some sort of human-shaped bundle between them. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Wymeah was being kidnapped.

“Jared! Kellron! Mind flayers!” Yelled Jallarzi at the top of her lungs.

The two mind flayers swiveled their heads to the empty hallway, only now noticing the dim, flickering light from Jallarzi’s open doorway. They couldn’t see the person yelling but they could hear her. Silent thoughts flickered between the two illithid, almost certainly noting that an invisible yeller was a wizard and therefore valuable. The force wave generated by the twin mind blasts was almost palpable and Jallarzi staggered under the assault but she had survived such blasts before and pushed through the mental noise.

Gritting her teeth, the half-elf rushed both mind flayers, her memory replaying their last encounter in which they had shrugged off her strongest spells. This time it might be different but an unconscious Master Wymeah would have trouble surving an _ice storm_. Instead, Jallarzi grabbed her master with her free hand, dodged the writhing tentacles of the mind flayers carrying her, and invoked a teleport spell. The wizard and her master disappeared from the hallway.

At that instant Kellron and Jared came bursting out the door, their breastplates only half secured. Kestral exited from the next door down, her leather jerkin also loosely buckled. No one had wanted to be caught in the middle of a sudden fire-fight without some sort of protection, but Jallarzi’s cry for help forced them into the fray.

The two mind flayers straightened; their black robes looked strange in the flickering of the fire just starting in the study. Their prizes were gone to someplace else and the three before them looked more like food then reward; dangerous food at that. The space about the mind flayers _rippled_ as planar walls were breached, and then they were gone.

---

Her heart was beating like a carpenter’s hammer. Master Wymeah was scared and it was not a feeling she was used to. If Jallarzi’s quick thinking hadn’t saved her… Wymeah pushed that thought away and wished that Chantion, her familiar, was here and not in the Valley.

It had taken almost a minute to recover from the stunning wave of mental force, giving Wymeah a new found understanding of why people feared witches. She had recovered on the steps of the Temple of Sarath, the only other place that Jallarzi was familiar enough to teleport to. Wymeah had teleported the pair back where they had exchanged stories with the others.

Jared and Kellron were now searching each room to make sure there were no more surprises. The young woman Kestral had doused the fire in the Library; though Wymeah was unclear how she had accomplished that task.

Wymeah pushed the thought away for later. Right now she had to decide what she was going to do next.

---

They all met in the dining room off of the kitchen. Master Wymeah had insisted on some tea while she thought and while the men searched the rooms. The pot was almost empty by the time Jared, Kellron, and Sarah arrived.

“It’s all quiet.” Announced Jared. “We can’t tell how they got in though; all the windows and doors are closed.”

Wymeah nodded silently. She didn’t like what she thinking. “The door would have announced anyone who came through the front door.” Her hand gripped her cup tightly, and she forced herself to relax before she broke the halfling-made china.

She was a coward; but she would be a live one.

“I’m leaving for the Library. Tonight.” She told her guests.

Kellron’s lips tightened. Kestral nodded slightly as if expecting it.

“Why?” Asked Jallarzi softly.

Wymeah’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Because it’s not defensible; not against this sort of attack. In the end this is just an extension of the Mother Library, an embassy for representation to the Duchy of Larence.” She snorted bitterly. “There’s no one left to represent anymore.”

There were arguments that could have been made; inspiration, hope, courage, or just plain stubbornness. No one tried though, they were tired too. Another ally was gone, but at least they had saved her and she now owed them a debt.

Wymeah watched the resignation flow across their faces. “You can stay here in the meantime.” She told them. “We’ll be back…I’ll be back when we’ve gathered our strength; but not until we know what we’re up against. I’ll _arcane lock_ the door with a pass phrase for your use. You’ll be safe against any city-based forces here at least.”

“Can I go with you?” Jallarzi’s question stunned everyone and they all turned to her.

“I won’t be able to use the gate, but I’d like to be able to go to the Main Library when I need to. I can always teleport to and back after this trip.”

Wymeah smiled. Jallarzi was no longer a student. Her skills were growing at a frightening rate, but no one would argue that she hadn’t earned them. It seemed her wisdom was growing too. That was good. “You may. I’ll show you around and send you back.”

“You can send me back in the morning. I’ll want a full tour and I’ll need to memorize a new set of spells.”

_So it was decided._


----------



## Seravin

*A Fire in the Sky*

_This is my 500th post on ENWorld_ 

At twenty-two, Martin Stonson was one of the youngest serving Ducal Guards in Corlean. His Grace, Duke Hilmaron, drew his guard exclusively from serving soldiers. Martin had distinguished himself up north, showing both good judgement and good luck while dealing with caravan raiders. It had earned him both a medal and recognition. A few weeks after returning to Corlean with his unit, Martin had been offered a reassignment to the ducal palace. The young man had thought long and hard but eventually accepted; seeing it as another way he could serve.

Tonight he found himself standing in the sanctuary of Latina’s Cathedral, just a candle or so before midnight. He took a deep breath of satisfaction and raised his torch higher, looking about. He felt a special connection with the cathedral and attended services at least once a month. The original name of the building was Crown’s Vigil, referring to the time when it was just a church on the far border; acting as both a watchpost and an administrative building. Now most people felt the name was pretentious and archaic. Martin felt differently but didn’t make an issue of it. The truly important part was the faith the building represented.

Frowning, Martin half-turned away from the white-silk clad altar and looked out over the nave. It was a broad hall with a high vaulting ceiling, both of which disappeared into the darkness. Normally the entire length of the room was lit by magical flames created by the faith of the priests. This evening however the only light was from the smoking torch that he held high. The flickering light showed him only the front quarter or so of the nave. The rich purple carpeting descended the three steps from the sanctuary and ran down the aisle into the darkness. On either side of the wide carpet were the pews where the congregation would sit. The ceiling was out of sight, but on the walls to either side he could just dimly make out the blind traceries coaxed from the stone, depicting the sword and shield motif of the church. Higher up, unseen in the darkness, were large stained glass windows depicting scenes from myth and legend.

The young man nodded slowly. The cathedral was still a rock of faith, solid and stable despite recent events. Turning back to the sanctuary he looked to where Her statue stood. Ten feet tall and made of white marble, the representation was the same as others he had seen before. A slender warrior woman dressed in stylized platemail and bearing a kite shield raised up before her. Emblazoned on the shield was the upright flaming sword of the faith. Her own blade was sheathed but her hand was on the hilt ready to draw.

She stood there righteous and proud, defiant and protective. Everything that Martin envisioned in his goddess, the patroness of the Empire. Latina. Tonight he thought he saw sadness, as he well imagined the goddess was feeling. In the silence of the cathedral, Martin allowed himself to remember the events leading to this evening’s cleansing.

Kerress Raptoran, High Priestess and Voice of the Defender’s Will in Corlean had arrived at the ducal palace just before sundown. The usually smiling priestess had been gravely silent as she passed Martin’s post, but that wasn’t surprising. The news of Colonel Megara’s fraudulent crimes had stunned everyone; it came as no shock that Kerress Raptoran was there to speak for her. For his part, Martin believed that the Colonel was innocent of the crimes and that the investigation would show the strangers had framed her somehow.

The priestess had gained an immediate audience with His Grace and Ker Aruk, his newest advisor. Martin shied away thinking about the elder advisor. The man was well spoken and obviously competent, but it did seem strange how fast the the Duke had taken to the man; especially given all the other events. His Grace was a well known judge of character though, and it wasn’t Martin’s place to question him.

Then the call had come. Captain Brooks had let it be known that all the guards would be summoned before His Grace this evening; in small groups so that the posts would be covered. As the most junior guard Martin had been one of the last four summoned to the Duke’s Great Hall.

Martin shook his head, remembering all the conflicting emotions he had felt. It was obvious that something was wrong. Kerress Raptoran was sitting, slumped on a bench before the Duke, obviously overcome with emotion. Aruk was sitting next to her, his arm around her and whispering to her. His Grace was sitting on his throne and staring at her. Captain Brook had come up from behind. “Stand watch.” He had ordered. “No matter what, stand and watch.”

Martin had been scared before, but this was the first time he had known fear in the Ducal palace. There was something wrong. He knew he had to do something; to somehow fix whatever was wrong.

*_Peace_.* Said the voice

Terror welled up and Martin knew he was going to do something.

*_Peace_.* Said the voice again and everything was suddenly all right.

Martin understood then that he was among friends. Terrible things had happened, but if they all stood together things would be all right. The Duke then told them of the betrayal. His Grace told them how the priests at the great cathedral had become corrupted by promises of wealth; of how the priests sold the safety of the city to dangerous mercenaries. Only the priestess, Kerress Raptoran, had the courage to step forward and request the aid of the Duke, unable to stop the corruption herself.

And the voices affirmed it all.

Kerress Raptoran sat their and wept silently, shuddering in shame at her inability to control her church.

Duke Hilmaron vowed to fix these problems and restore order. The church of Braen had already stepped forward to lend their aid. It was time to cleanse Latina’s Cathedral and bring honor back to the church. Later there would be time to deal with the mercenaries; but that would be after the church was re-sanctified.

Martin vowed his sword right there.

Now he was in the church, the corrupted clergy shackled and under guard. Martin’s gaze slid from The Defender’s statue to the silk covered altar and the two figures standing there. Priests of Braen, they wore the cult’s garb of sky blue cotton with white linen trim. As always, their hoods were pulled low over their heads and they kept their hands hidden within the wide sleeves.

*_It is time_.*

Martin smiled and nodded. The voices explained what he was to do. His faith was perfect. He did this for Latina. He laid the torch carefully down to the stone floor, taking care that it would not set the carpet leading up to the altar alight. Stepping quickly, he walked up to the altar and allowed himself to touch the white silk cloth covering it.

*_A willing sacrifice is needed_.* Reminded the dispassionate voice. *_A show of belief. If your faith is enough then She will manifest_.* There was an odd note to the silent voice, but Martin dismissed it. He volunteered for this job and now he would see it through; his honor and duty demaned nothing less.

With a deep breath the twenty-two year old guard draped himself, face up, across the altar as the Braenites approached. One of them moved up to his head and he heard the rustling of cloth from just out of sight.

*_Relax_.*

There was a gasp from the captured priests and a scuffle started.

Martin smiled, knowing this was his destiny. He barely had a chance to wonder at the purple tentacles as they came down to carress his face, before he died and the altar was desanctified.

---

Quereth Holtson was entertaining visitors. He wasn’t particularly happy about it either. Aruk and his bodyguard, Imtithal, had shown up just after moon-high without announcement. He had nearly turned them away, but he was a businessman and understood that sometimes problems had to be fixed right now.

So he found himself in his drawing room with his two visitors, Aruk seated across from him and Imtithal leaning against the fireplace, listening to how Kerress Raptoran had confronted the Duke. “So it’s all gone sideways then.” Already his mind was thinking about damage control.

Aruk smiled like a cat. “Not as such. I confess I didn’t forsee the woman actually coming to see the Duke, but I knew that _someone_ might. Her prayers triggered all sorts of traps that I had prepared.” He grimaced in distaste. “She still managed to lay one of our tentacle friends low, but the rest proved particularly resistant.” His satisfied smirk returned. “By the time we were finished she had the mind of a babe and could do nothing but shudder against the holding spells. She was quite convincing as the shame-faced woman who couldn’t stand failing her church.”

Imtithal’s lazy grin grew broader. “She did fail. The look on her face as she realized it was most satisfying.”

“So what now?” Asked Quereth, suspicious.

“For your part? Nothing strenuous, but I thought you should know that parts of the plan are moving ahead of schedule. The Duke has already ordered the taking of the Cathedral.” Aruk savored the sentence for a moment. “And I have ordered Balraj and his brothers to provide a suitable…distraction. That should keep the rest of the town busy and identify potential troublemakers.”

“And the illithid?”

“Still leading the Braenite cult. They’ve offered their services to the Duke and will be helping at the palace as well as the Cathedral.”

Quereth nodded. So far it sounded all right. “You wouldn’t be telling me this in person unless you wanted me to do something else.”

“I now have two priestesses that I’m certain some hero would like to free. I need an unofficial place to hide them until I’m ready for them.”

Quereth grimaced. There it was. “There’s an awful lot of danger with that request.”

Aruk’s answer was just as serious. “Treason is always dangerous, and don’t mistake that you are already involved in anything else. Baron Roth will marry Gabrella and take the Duke’s place when he dies. From there it’s a short step to Kalta. I fully expect Roth’s heir to meet and wed Jaz’aldrin’s girl.”

Quereth stared. “You can’t possibly expect to live that long.”

“I’m older than you think. Long life is trivially easy for the illithid to arrange; as you will soon find out for turning over Grandal.” He smiled. “What’s one more betrayal when we’re talking the Imperial seat?”

Quereth thought about it. “I wouldn’t mind some more protection here then. Can any of the Braenite cultists be brought over?”

Imtithal straightened up. “I’ll help you guard them.” He answered. “I have a vested interest in making sure they are safe until we are ready for them.”


----------



## Seravin

A few random thoughts...

This was spurred from the earlier conversation with the players. I decided to advance the take-over schedule just a bit. As the next post will show it was perhaps a little fast - but it forced the players to make some choices. Their choice wasn't what I expected but it turned out okay.

The in-game reason was pretty easy to come up with. The arrest of Col. Megara would have some obvious repercussions - and though the players didn't know it quite yet, Capt. Ladea had also been arrested. It was a short step to have the highest ranking (and level) priestess to investigate - with some obvious consequences. She was next on the list anyway - it just happened faster.

One of the big things I pulled from the Speaker in Dreams was the alliance between the illithid, the devils, and the the thieves guild. The illithid connection was just too good to pass up. Additionally two of the players had gone through that module and I had a reference for Night Below in the captured notes. The module itself was silent on why the illithid and devils were working together, but given my changes that probably didn't matter much.

As it is, the reasoning of why and how the illithid were working with the Treshans was never found out by the players. Not that it really mattered. The player's thinking at this point was that illithid = bad and "dead illithid" = good, and that illithid allies deserved the same treatment.

The one thing I didn't do very well was giving the players feedback on when their actions were having a positive effect. All the ever saw was the bad guys either hiding or getting agressive - and no reasoning behind it. I was thinking the players might try their hand at infiltration so they would get that information, but we changed tracks before they got enough data to act on.

If there's ever a similar situation I'll try and make sure that they have some cowardly contact who can let them know when the bad guys are getting nervous.

Part of this ties back to my weakness in dm'ing characters of these levels and part of it was the player's own unfamiliarity of their new levels. This was pretty new territory for all of us, and the terrain was completely different from the underdark. I was trying to be conscious of letting the players use their abilities - was trying to force them to use their abilities in some cases. Despite all of this I had fun running this arc, and I think the players had fun too.

The only other thing I'm a little disappointed about is the illithid charm monster abilities. This is another case of hand waving - or at least the illithid running a massive bluff on all their charmed victims. As written the illithid are really only capable of making everyone treat them as trust allies - friendly or helpful on the chart, but not 'masters'. For example the Duke in this case would have treated them as good friends and treated them as near equals, dismissing his grand rank while with them (and I can just see how an illithid would deal with that).

My view of illithid is that their charm power is somewhat stronger - making the victim subservient as well as trusting; so that's how I ran it. PC's, being made of sterner stuff, wouldn't necessarily be as subservient at first.


----------



## Seravin

*Exchanging Tales*

It was late morning when Jallarzi stepped through the gate from the Valley. Her expression was one of impatience. Looking about the entry she heaved a sigh and went to find her companions. The wizardess found her friends in the Blue Room. The grim looks from the night before were still there.

Jared looked up from his book as she entered and smiled faintly. “Good morning. How is the Library?”

Jallarzi wrinkled her nose. “Stupid.” She sighed and then elaborated. “The Library itself is good; lots of books, labs, and everything. The sick wizards are still sick though.”

Jared’s brow furrowed. “Why? Don’t they have priests who can restore them?”

“They’re turning it into a lesson.” She snorted with disbelief. “I asked about it and was told that magic shouldn’t be used to fix everything, and they were using the opportunity to chart the course of the poison.” She shook her head. “Don’t let them take care of me if I ever get sick.”

“No problem.” Agreed Kestral cheerfully, then her voice turned serious. “I just got back from walking a little while ago and we were waiting for you to get back.”

Jallarzi caught the tone. “What happened?”

“The chuch of Latina has a big fire in it right now and people are saying there are monster on the grounds. Oh, and Captain Ladea has been arrested too.” The last was delivered with a sigh that delivered her exact feelings on life’s general unfairness.

“The church is on fire?”

“More like there’s a pillar of fire shooting up through the roof and twenty feet into the air. The rest of the building seems fine except for the permanent flame strike. I didn’t go see it myself but everyone says there are monsters on the grounds.” Kestral shook her head. “I went to go see Captain Ladea to see if she had more up to date information and found out she got arrested last night for high treason. The Watch wanted to arrest me too but I managed to talk them out of it. I came right back here after that and we thought we would wait for you before going out.”

Pursing her lips, Jallarzi nodded her head slowly. “So we’re going to the church of Latina?”

Kellron stood up. “I was thinking that was the best bet. Whatever is happening there is probably related to everything else and it would earn us some good will.”

“I agree.” Said Jared, laying aside his book as he stood up.

Kestral shrugged. “We could use the good will.” She noted as she gained her feet. “How are we going to do this?”

“With the warrant on our heads we should probably go in disguise,” suggested Jared. “That’s not a problem for you…” He trailed off

“I can cast a spell of disguise,” volunteered the wizardess. She considered another moment. “I also have an invisibility spell memorized. Barring a fight, it would last a while.”

“So that helps either Kellron or myself.” Noted Jared. He smiled suddenly with an idea. “Kestral, is anyone looking for you?”

Kestral understood immediately and smiled as she shook her head. “No. You three appear to be the only wanted criminals. No one appears to know that I exist yet.” She pulled out her hair-comb, which transformed into a brown velvet hat in her hand. Kestral felt almost naked without it, she never went outside as her normal self anymore. The young woman hefted it once and lobbed it to Jared. “You could disguise yourself as a solider or something and hopefully divert any notice of an invisible Kellron clanking around. As long as we stay to the streets and avoid untouched snow drifts he shouldn’t call attention to himself.”

They were ready to go a few minutes later.


----------



## Seravin

*Trust Me*

_The central building of the Corlean Library is separated from the main street by a small courtyard. Directly across the street is a small, lightly wooded park. As a matter of course, only students generally wander the courtyard of the Library; general distrust of wizards by the populace keeps everyone else away. This morning however there were several small groups of well bundled up people gathered both on the street and in the park. Some of the folk were the non-apprentice students who had been given a sudden holiday by Master Wymeah; others were fearful citizens who were hoping that the wizards could help with the problems afflicting the Latina's Cathedral._

Kestral was the first out the front door, surveying the street and looking for anything suspicious. She spotted the man almost immediately as she casually scanned the little groups of people. He was the only one by himself, standing under a tree in clothes that weren’t nearly warm enough for the weather. His head had snapped up as she had walked out of the building and his gaze followed her briefly as she circled the courtyard.

He was an older man with black hair and a goatee. He was of medium height and build, and was dressed in what appeared to be expensive black and gray clothes. His only acknowledgement to the chill was a heavy, dark cloak; but even that was casually cast open and couldn’t be providing any real warmth. Kestral thought she had seen the man from somewhere before but couldn’t quite recall where.

Jared, who was disguised as a northern mercenary in chain shirt and bearing only a dagger, and Jallarzi, who was disguised as dark-haired student, were next out the door. They immediately drew the watcher’s attention and Kestral used the distraction to move towards the closest group of people; hoping to lose herself amongst them. All the while she kept one eye on the man. She was glad she had. The man looked uncertain for a moment and then raised a hand in an obvious spellcasting gesture.

Jared and Jallarzi recognized Kestral’s sudden change in stride and manner and took care to keep walking as if they were by themselves; letting the distance between themselves and their friend widen. The soft clank of Kellron from behind them and the careful closing of the door let them know that their friend had joined them. “Kestral’s onto something.” Murmured Jared, just loud enough for Kellron to hear.

Kestral drifted around the little clumps of people, circling closer to her target without being noticed. His focus was now entirely on Jared and Jallarzi and he seemed to be concentrating abnormally hard on them.

A snippet of conversation momentarily distracted the young woman as she passed the last group of people.

“…wizards aren’t going to save us; they’re all sick. I heard the cult of Braen is protecting the Duke now. Boren says they’ve already killed one monster that escaped from the Cathedral grounds…”

Kestral didn’t stop, curious as she was. She would bet that the watcher was using a _detect magic_ spell and had identified her friends for who they were. As quickly as possible she completed her circuit and ended up just behind and to the left of the man.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Asked Kestral politely but firmly.

The man jumped and whirled on her bringing his hands up reflexively. Kestral tensed but saw that the mysterious man wasn’t continuing through with the motions. Instead his eyes narrowed on her and she allowed herself a sardonic smile, confident that he wasn’t going to see anything.

Apparently satisfied the man relaxed ever so slightly. “My name is Lore and I’m looking for two gentlemen.” He waved his hand towards the approaching Jared, Jallarzi, and the invisible Kellron. “I assume that two of those people may be the ones I am looking for.” His voice and manner were cultured and polite, but hardly diffident.

Kestral nodded. Maybe.” With that the two waited for Kestral’s three friends to approach.

Jared was the first to speak, with his questions sounding like orders. “Who are you?”

The man bowed. “As I just explained to the young woman, my name is Lore and I’m looking for two men, both members of the church of Sarath. Jared and Kellron are their names.” He nodded to the apparently empty spot just to the left of Jared. “Would you and whoever is standing to your left be them?”

Jared stiffened slightly and considered. There was no point denying it at this time. The man didn’t look like a member of the Watch and he was starting to pique his interest. “I’m Jared.” He admitted, pointedly ignoring the second part of Jared’s question.

Lore waited a moment and then smiled. “Ah. I see. Well, you’re right not to trust me I suppose given the current troubles of the city.” He paused to collect his thoughts and then continued. “I represent someone who would like to speak with you.” He turned slightly and bowed to Jallarzi. “And you also, milady.” Seeing that he had their attention he continued. “This person wishes to discuss matters of importance and hopes that you will deign to meet them.”

Jared, Jallarzi, and Kestral shared glances. “Go on.” Said Jared.

“That’s all that I can offer at this point. Would you be willing to agree to talks?”

Kestral shrugged, indicating that she didn’t quite trust him but didn’t think he was obviously lying either. Not that he had said much at all.

Seeing no objection from his friends, Jared asked the next obvious question. “When and where?”

“They would be willing to meet with you now if convenient. I happen to know that they hoped you would be immediately available.”

“Let’s do it.” Rumbled Kellron.

Jared, Jallarzi, and Kestral murmured their agreements.

---

Lore led them north and east through the streets to north trade district. The journey was made in silence, neither side wishing to speak to the other. Soon enough they were at their destination, an older-looking two-story warehouse built of grey stone and weathered wood. It was one of the smaller ones, perhaps only fifty feet square.

Lore led them to a side door and knocked twice. “The person I represent is just inside.”

Kestral grimaced. “You first.”

Lore bowed. “Of course.” With that he opened up the door and stepped inside.

Jared, Kellron, Jallarzi, and Kestral followed him in.

The warehouse was unlit with the only light coming in from the open door behind them; showing them what looked to be a nearly empty warehouse floor before it disappeared into the darkness. Lore spoke a quick word and disappeared.

“Damn it.” Swore Jared.

A woman’s voice broke the stillness. It sounded like it was coming from the other side of the warehouse. The voice was calm but ice-cold. “You killed my father.” Announced the woman. “So now I am going to have you killed. Make your peace.” Kestral’s heart dropped as she recognized the voice.

There was no time for protest, as the woman’s sentence was punctuated with the distinctive _twang_ of released crossbow strings. Three bolts clattered about the three visible friends standing in the open doorway. Fortunately they all missed.

Kestral was the first to react, yelling “Its Jaylissa!” as she pulled out her enchanted light amulet from her pouch. Unwrapping the amulet she flung it twenty or so feet towards the center of the room. The enchanted light revealed that the warehouse wasn’t as empty as it had first appeared. Scattered about were numerous crates stacked two or three high, providing cover for any number of waiting enemies. An upper platform at the far end of the room was revealed at the extreme edge of the light. The friends could just make out four shadowy figures standing up there.

“Kill them.” Spoke the woman’s voice again. Three of the figures began reloading their crossbows while the fourth, Lore, began chanting in a clear, strong voice as he pulled out an amber rod. A ten foot wide stroke of lighting spat from the rod and arced to Jallarzi and Jared. The lighting seared both of them, but they each twisted aside and managed to avoid the full effect of the stroke.

Jallarzi moved off to her left and invoked a spell of _see invisibility_ not wanting to be surprised. Meanwhile both Jared and Kellron drew their weapons and broke right, towards where they thought the stairs to the upper platform were.

Kestral looked about and considered her options next. Deciding, she drew her own sword and closed the door behind them to slow down any unexpected attacks from that direction.

Jaylissa snarled and fired her crossbow at the same time as the man to her right did. Again, they both missed. Lore, who was standing to Jaylissa’s left cast a spell that Jallarzi immediately recognized as _shield_. The fourth figure, a man dressed in rough peasant clothing dropped his crossbow and ran for the stairwell. He moved quickly and was at the bottom of the stairs and in a guard stance in just a few moments. He bore no weapons but there was no doubt that he was dangerous.

Jallarzi did a quick scan of the area around her with her enchanted sight. Satisfied that there weren’t any lurking surprises she eyed Jaylissa and invoked a spell of _hold person_. Jaylissa gurgled and froze in the middle of the reloading process.

Jared, seeing Jallarzi’s strategy, stopped and targeted the man to Jaylissa’s right with his own prayer of _hold person_. His spell took also, and the man froze mid-load. For his part, Kellron charged the man now standing at the bottom of the stairwell, shouting Sarath’s name.

The silent man was unfazed by the invisible shout and the pounding of metal-shod feet, deigning only to raise his guard higher. Despite this, the strike of Kellron’s sword nearly crippled the man. He twisted with the blow as well as he could, but Deverat’s enchantments were backed up with supernatural might. Unlike most men, the unarmed man ignored his wounds and if anything, looked more determined to block the way of the now visible Kellron.

Kestral could sense that it was almost over. Only Lore worried her and so far she hadn’t seen anything that Jallarzi couldn’t match. She scanned the darkness at the outer edges of the light, just in case.

With his two companions frozen, Lore made a decision. “Hold them a moment longer!” He shouted. With that, Lore reached out and grabbed Jaylissa’s arm and spoke the same word he had invoked earlier, disappearing with Jaylissa with a _dimension door_ spell.

Jallarzi swore as she scanned the upper platform. “They’re gone.” She yelled, seeing only the frozen crossbowman.

The man at the stair looked calm, knowing his doom was before him, and let loose with a flurry of blows at Kellron. Two of them hit, one of them rocking the paladin back on his feet. Anyone else would have been stunned but Kellron shook it off. He retaliated with two quick strikes of his own, the second of which struck hard and true, killing the man.

Jared charged up the stairwell and made his way to the crossbowman and added his own swear words. “That could have gone better.” He noted, looking around.

“At least we have someone we can question.” Noted Kellron, coming up the stairwell.

“Thank Sarath for small favors.” Agreed Jared. “Help me disarm this guy; we should probably get out of here quickly. Who knows who’s waiting to charge in after us.”

---

The four friends held a quick conference. It didn’t take them long to decide upon a course of action. Jallarzi used a scroll to cast a second spell of _invisibility_ on Kellron while Jared used Kestral’s hat to disguise himself as their prisoner. The two men waited to see Jallarzi teleport away with Kestral and the prisoner and then made their own way out of the warehouse. They would meet up at the Library as quickly as possible.


----------



## Seravin

*No, Trust Me*

_Apologies for the delay. DnD Online is a pretty cool game though.   
Fortunately I was already working on this post..._

----

Geoffrey Windemere shifted nervously from foot to foot while keeping an eye on the Modolan warehouse. Things were bad; real bad. Vigorously rubbing his hands over his arms to keep warm, Geoffrey reflected that being a torch bearer might not have been a bad career choice after all. It might have been marginally safer than the city and far safer than the current job.

_”I can’t believe I’m doing this.”_ Thought Geoffrey for the twelfth time this morning. _”They took out the Blue Diamond, the Gaming Den, and and the Blue Gorgon.”_ He stamped his feet to relieve both the cold and his growing fear as he thought over his current circumstances. _"They took out Ker Deverex! - didn’t know he a wizard himself.”_

_”I never should have told Radik what happened to me. Should’ve just told him the two womenn had disappeared. Why did he have to tell _Lore_ of all people that the women had taken me to…wherever?”_

Seeing movement down the street, Geoffrey moved deeper into the warehouse doorway and waited for the walkers to approach. As he suspected, it was Lore. Word was starting to get around town that there was a new curfew; something about the cathedral being on fire. With the free-mage were three familiar faces; two soldiers and the scary-beautiful white-haired wizard. There was a fourth person but while she looked vaguely familiar Geoffrey determined she was a stranger.

_”Father Dark must be loving this.”_ thought the dark-haired young man somewhat cycnically. _"He’s already looking for this lot and here Kerress Deverex pays for an assassination. He gets paid for what he already wanted done.”_

Worry tugged at Geoffrey’s mind, but he managed to put it down. _”Valadan’s the best there is.”_ He reminded himself. _”And the woman has a Ereskian bodyguard; no one gets by one of them."_ For the first time today he let himself smile as he watched them enter the Modolan warehouse. _”Lore will surprise them.”_ He told himself – finally managing to push his worry away.

From his vantage point across the street Geoffrey heard the crack of thunder and saw the interior of the warehouse light up briefly. The door closed quickly after that. Geoffrey heaved a sigh of relief and settled back. Things were being taken care of. He only had to watch out for surprises coming up or down this street. Besides, if anything did go wrong no one expected him to get involved; he was just a hired watchman.

The budding young criminal had barely finished that thought when a soft, unnatural double-hum sounded behind him and faded away. Geoffrey jumped and whirled around to face the new danger; his calm heart was now beating like a dwarf’s hammer. He paled at the sight.

It was Lore and Kerress Deverex, standing there recovering from Lore’s travel spell. Lore was panting a bit, and the woman…the woman was still. Geoffrey’s heart stopped as he recognized the same effect that the wizardess had captured him with less than a month ago. As for Lore, Lore was always calm; scary-calm. It was his trademark. The free-mage knew he could kill you with a word a gesture and everyone who dealt with him knew it too. Right now Lore looked scared and that terrified Geoffrey even more.

Lore caught his breath as he focused in on the room and then on Geoffrey. With an effort of will the older man composed himself. “The ambush didn’t work.” There was still a note of fear in the man’s voice. He had never so badly underestimated his opposition. There was only one option right now and that was to retreat.

The free-mage managed to regain a measure of his usual calm. “Watch the warehouse.” He ordered. “If any of the marks come out you let them go. Note their direction but _do not_ try and follow them. When they’re safely gone, or after an hour, head back to the safe house.” He paused, and then added. “Wait. If you see them leave, wait until they are safely out of sight and check out the warehouse.”

Geoffrey nodded, relieved that he wasn’t going to have to face these folks. He had been given a very stern warning by the one soldier and had no wish to cross paths with them again.

Orders given Lore reached out (Geoffrey would have said tenderly if it wasn’t so ridiculous) and touched Kerress Deverex on the arm. Invoking a word he and the woman disappeared through what looked to be a glowing rip in the air. The rip hummed softly and disappeared.

Geoffrey turned his attention back to the Modolan warehouse.

---

Geoffrey didn’t have to wait long. Only a minute or two passed after Lore left when the door of the warehouse across the street opened. At first Geoffrey couldn’t tell who was at the door and he didn’t dare stick his head out further to get a better look. He didn’t have to wait long for his curiosity to be satisfied though. Relief flooded through Geoffrey as he recognized Valadan.

Geoffrey had never met the assassin personally but he had seen the man around and had gotten a look at the man earlier this morning. Valadan belonged to the Night Sashes and he was Father Dark’s choice when people had to disappear. Seemingly normal, an onlooker couldn’t tell just by looking that Valadan was a nearly emotionless sociopath. Not quite yet thirty, Valadan had already killed some forty-odd people; most of them for money but not all.

Tall, dark, and non-descript, no one messed with Valadan. Geoffrey was almost relieved to see the man. The young man watched the assassin close the door and make his way down the street; showing no sign of a fight that had sent Lore himself running.

Geoffrey waited until the man was closer before going out to meet him. “Valadan!” He called, waving an arm to get the man’s attention.

Valadan stopped and turned to look at Geoffrey. Geoffrey paused as he realized he might have done something wrong. There was no thrown knife however and while Valadan’s hand strayed to his sword hilt, he didn’t draw it. Still Geoffrey moved closer before he started speaking again.

“Valadan. What happened? Lore said the ambush didn’t work.”

The assassin’s face was grim. “It didn’t. The others teleported out and left me behind.” He gave Geoffrey an appraising eye. “What’s the plan?” He asked

“Lore wanted me to check out the warehouse if everyone was gone and then head back to the safe house.”

“I see.” Valadan considered for a moment. “Don’t bother checking out the warehouse; there’s no one left in there.” He gestured vaguely down the road. “We should head back to the safe house and report.”

Geoffrey nodded and turned down the street. “Okay.” He said agreeably.

Seeing that Geoffrey was waitng for him to move, Valadan again gestured vaguely down the road. “You lead the way, I’ll watch for followers.”

Geoffrey didn’t like it but if the assassin wanted to kill him, he hardly had to wait for Geoffrey to turn his back. Suppressing a sigh Geoffrey turned and started the journey back to the safe house.

---

The safe house was an older two-story house only a few blocks away. Despite its age, the building and the small grounds around it were well kept. A small, waist-high stone wall surrounded the grounds. It certainly didn’t look like a criminal hide out. In fact, anyone investigating the ownership of the building would find that it was owned by a minor merchant family from Karos; who were renting it to others. In theory it was currently unoccupied and being watched over and administered by the Holtson family.

Geoffrey led Valadan right to the gate and was about to open it when Valadan bid him to stop.

“Hold up.” Said Valadan.

Curious, Geoffrey turned to the man. For the second time today Geoffrey paled in fright. Valadan’s form shifted and blurred for a moment and Geoffrey was now facing one of the soldier allies of the wizardess. _”Jared.”_ His memory reminded him.

“I thought we told you that you shouldn't work for Father Dark.”

It was phrased almost like a question but Geoffrey found he couldn’t answer.

The fighting man looked disgusted. “Just go. Go and don’t come back.” He warned and then smiled grimly. “I can promise you bad things will happen to anyone working for Father Dark today.”

Geoffrey was still unable to move.

“Go!” Hissed the man.

Geoffrey’s eyes widened and he took off like a rabbit. He wasn’t going to come back here. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew that much.

Jared willed the hat of disguise to change his form back to that of the assassin and watched the young man disappear from view. He spit once, shook his head, and then made his way back to the Library. At least now he knew where their attackers were.


----------



## Seravin

*Preparations*

_It’s never been really spelled out but I have certain mental images when the characters prepare for an upcoming battle.

For Kellron, I see a tall, broad-shoulder man with dark hair. Clad in plate armor he takes care to check each strap and buckle, ensuring the fit is both comfortable and secure. Next, he fixes his large steel shield to his arm, testing the weight. Finally he draws his sword, Deverat, and looks along the length. The adamantine blade, the color of dark steel, doesn’t have a single scratch or nick along its perfect length. Still he gravely inspects the blade, perhaps asking it if it is prepared for another fight. Deverat of course answers with a serene affirmative.

Nearby is Jared who has a similar build and coloring as the paladin. The cleric is going through similar procedures; perhaps he and Kellron helping each other don their armor. In Jared’s case, Finslayer’s answer is a confident "We’ll get through this with my help", tinged with the disappointment that they’re not going after the kuo-toa yet. Of course Jared has his own unique checks himself. He’ll check his silver holy symbol and say a brief prayer to Sarath. Next he’ll go through his pouches and magical pack to verify that he has blessed water and spell focuses as well as looking at each potion of scroll.

White-haired Jallarzi is next. Eschewing the traditional robes of the Library, the half-elf wizardess is dressed in comfortable traveling clothes. Her cloak, a gift from the Library, is thrown back over her shoulders as she secures a quiver and a dagger to her belt next to her carefully cataloged pouch of spell components. On the table next to her are a dozen wands or so, prizes taken in previous battles or ones carefully crafted. She picks each wand up and examines it with a critical eye before sheathing it in her quiver. As she picks up her white, crystal-topped staff she looks at Sarah, her familiar, who yawns lazily. The black cat slowly gets up, stretches and strides over to the young woman who bends down to stroke the cat. With a flick of her tail Sarah jumps into the extradimensional folds of Jallarzi’s cloak.

Strangely, I think Kestral has the most preparations, if only because she has no focused role in battle. She fills in where needed; doing the little tasks so that the others can focus on striking their enemies down faster. Her leather armor isn’t as complicated to put on, but she still needs to check the fittings. She then checks each of her weapons; her magical shortsword, her daggers, and her bow and quiver of arrows, making sure that everything can be pulled free instantly.

Kestral then checks that her enchanted amulet is accessible, but wrapped so as to betray no light; followed by checking her pouches to ensure all the little tools that make opening doors are where they are suppose to be. Finally she goes through her magical pack and performs a quick inventory. Once satisfied she looks to her hands to makes sure that she's wearing the rings she wants to, dons Ashimar’s gloves of dexterity, and finally looks at herself in her hand mirror activating its alluring magic. Normally she would also change her appearance with her magical hat, but today that has been given to Jared to wear.

At this time, not quite seven months since Ashimar, Kellron, Jallarzi, and Panther first met, less than a five people understand quite how powerful these heroes have become. To some extent, isolated in the Night Below as they have been, not even the heroes understand their new role.

For strength of arms there might be three others in the city of Corlean that could meet Kellron or Jared in open combat and hope to win, and even then the fight would be very close in regards to Kellron. It has been a month and a half since anyone in the city has seen these men fight though and their skills are half-again as good as they were since.

Jared’s faith is the equal of anyone in Corlean. The members of the cult of Niela know of and understand his strength, as does Colonel Megara. However the cult is isolated and they do not spread rumors. As for the colonel…she is indisposed and not answering questions.

Jallarzi has gone from sorceress, to wizard’s apprentice, to journey-mage, to master in all but name, in less than seven months. Capable of traveling where she will and disintegrating inconveniences, on this day there is now only one wizard in Corlean who is stronger and his agenda is his own.

Even Kestral, physically the weakest of the four, is a competent fighter and if partnered with a fighting companion can deliver devastating cuts. She has no learning of magic, yet weilds a variety of magical items, some very potent. Her biggest strength is her anonymity and her social skills. Not just a courier anymore, she is to the social environment that an elven ranger is to the forest. She can go anywhere, speak to anyone, and gain all the answers that can be attained. Their enemies know of her, but have no answers about her.

If their enemies had seen them leaving the Libray this afternoon those enemies would have been worried. Using magic to disguised themselves with illusion and invisibility again, the four friends went to discuss the current state of affairs with their enemies._


----------



## Seravin

*Enemies and Allies*

Lore (not his real name) sat alone downstairs, appearing to be quietly reading, but in reality trying to patiently wait for news from Geoffrey. The boy was already late and the sorceror was beginning to wonder if this was a sign to move on. He had confidence in the boy’s natural cowardice however and was certain Geoffrey wouldn’t do anything that looked life threatening.

Still, he had already underestimated the strangers once, and only the grace of Hyla had let him turn a complete disaster into just a rout. He wouldn’t allow himself another mistake like that. Lore owed both his life and his loyalty to Grandal, and with the half-elf now gone Lore would see that Jaylissa was served in the same manner.

How he could best serve was the question of the day. Grandal was gone and no one knew if he was a prisoner or dead. Jaylissa, despite recent problems with her father, wanted him back and those responsible to pay. Lore supported both goals whole-heartedly but something was nagging at him. Grandal had prepared for some sort of retaliation by the Sarathian adventurers but an all-out-assault on the Gaming Den during business hours had never been considered. Now the Sarathians were staying at the Library, but Lore would bet that Grandal wasn’t there.

There were too many questions and not enough answers. _Prioritize_. That’s what Grandal would have done. See to Jaylissa’s safety, find out where Grandal was, and deliver revenge as required. Everything else was extraneous. Lore sighed, a decision reached. He would give Geoffrey another hour and then they would leave. Quereth was Jaylissa’s god-father and would help provide protection.

*Knock-knock-knock.* There was a knocking at the door.

Surprised, Lored looked up even as he was setting his book aside. Quickly he made his way to the foyer and, ever cautious, checked the small window to the side of the door before answering. Amazingly, Valadan was standing there; his hand tightly gripping the arm of the woman who had snuck up on Lore earlier. The sorceror was relieved enough to see the assassin that he didn’t stop to consider that the woman was still armed. Lore opened the door with a relieved smile and invited Valadan in.

---

Jaylissa stared at the ceiling of the room she had taken for herself. Supposedly resting and recovering, she was instead reliving this morning’s ambush and counter-ambush. Her father would have wanted her to pull a lesson from the debacle; ironic considering that his own thirst for revenge had led to this. She was letting her emotions color her planning, a family trait it seemed, and she was finding it hard to care.

For a time she had allowed herself to hate her father for Imych’s death. They had never talked about it but she knew Grandal had ordered it. Imych had broken too many rules and Grandal’s bedamned secret had forced him to deal with it. In truth, what had hurt worse was that business had taken precedence over her.

She almost hadn’t forgiven her father for that. She might never have forgiven him, but four weeks ago, just after his humiliation, he had brought her into his world. There at the dinner table he told her he wanted her to be his heir in business as well as in family. This had been his, as well as her mother’s, plan for her once she was old enough. From her education in Overdorn with her elven ‘cousins’ to his trusting her with certain business secrets; these had all been designed to make Jaylissa ready to take over for Grandal. If she wanted to.

Jaylissa had discovered two things that night. First, that she still loved her father. Second, that up until now her life had been without purpose. She had supposed that she would marry someone her father approved of and be shuffled away. Now it seems that her father was making sure she was ready to make a choice; and it was to be her choice.

Grandal had started her graduate lessons that night, beginning with a who’s-who of Corlean and moving on to his most recent mistakes and the plans to correct them. Jaylissa had been disturbed by some of the plans, but the plundering of her personal effects by the hypocritical Sarathians had convinced her to go along.

Now it had all gone wrong. The Sarathians had taken their measure of vengeance and she had taken her own shot and failed. As her father had started to recently say, it was time to focus on the important things. She was going to do whatever it took to get her father or his body back; and this time she wouldn’t let revenge get in the way.

*Knock-knock-knock*

The pounding at the door roused the flame-haired young half-elf. Geoffrey would have just entered. Frowning, she swung herself lightly out of bed and moved to the bedroom door, reaching for her shortsword and dagger. She was still dressed as she had been this morning, in nondescript tradesman clothes. Jaylissa opened the door quietly and made her way to the top of the stairs where she could hear some man’s voice speaking to Lore. They were seating themselves in the lounge just off the foyer as she reached the stairs.

“We need to talk.” Spoke the man. The voice was familiar, similar to Valadan’s but not quite. “And we would like to do it calmly without Jaylissa going crazy. We’re hoping you could help explain all of this to her.”

“I…see.” Jaylissa could hear the tenseness in Lore’s voice and she could imagine him sitting back in his chair and casually making sure his arms were free. “You’re not Valadan, are you?” He asked.

A woman’s voice answered. “No.”

Jaylissa’s hand drifted to her sword belt. She knew who these people were.

The woman continued. “My name is Kestral and we’re here to just talk.”

Jaylissa’s keen hearing caught Lore’s slight exhalation as the other man spoke. “And I’m Jared of the church of Sarath. I swear that we are here to just talk.”

The woman, Kestral, continued. “Based on this morning we think you believe that we had something to do with Grandal’s disappearance. That’s not true. We’re being framed.”

There was a pause before Lore answered. “I see.” It was an obvious conversational ploy to draw them out but Jaylissa could tell that the sorceror was willing to listen to more.

Distrubingly, Jaylissa found herself willing to listen also. The voice oozed sincerity and the young half-elf found herself considering that the woman at least believed it to be true.

Lore gathered his thoughts and continued. “What happened to the real Valadan? And Halloran for that matter?”

The priest, Jared, answered. “The real Valadan is a prisoner right now. We found out he was an assassin and he’ll be turned over to the City Watch. Unfortunately the other one didn’t make it and died in the fight.”

Lore sighed. “I’m sorry to hear about Halloran. He was a monk of the Perfected Self and was hired to protect my lady. His loss will incur a financial obligation."

There was a pause while the sorceror considered and Jaylissa ruthlessly put down the brief pang of sadness she felt. She hadn't been close to Halloran but he had followed through on his oath to defend her to the death.

Lore started speaking, interrupting Jaylissa's thoughts. "You said you're being framed?"

“We can’t prove it conclusively.” Continued the woman calling herself Kestral. “We were at the Blue Gorgon during the attack waiting for a deal to continue through. We were at the the temple of Sarath when the Blue Gorgon was attacked.”

“With a mage of Jallarzi’s skill it wouldn’t be that hard to teleport around.” Suggested Lore.

“Which is why I said we can’t prove it conclusively; however with a mage of Jallarzi’s talent we wouldn’t need to. We certainly could have killed Grandal anywhere and not have runined our names.”

It was such a matter of fact statement that Jaylissa’s heart nearly stopped at the assumption that her father was dead.

“I can’t argue with that.” Said Lore. “That leaves us the question on who did do it.”

“We don’t know yet; but we want to find out. We came here to see if we could put our information together. That’s assuming Jaylissa can be convinced not to try and kill us every few minutes.”

There was another one of Lore’s long pauses. “I don’t know why but I think I’m starting to believe you. The question is whether or not my lady will. She may consider me a traitor just for talking to you.” There was another pause, then “Can I contact you at the Library?”

“We’ll be there off and on.” Said Jared. The displeasure in his voice was obvious.

Jaylissa made her decision.

“That won’t be necessary, Lore.” She said as she descended the steps into the foyer and then crossed into the lounge. The stunned silence was its own reward. “I heard everything."

She stood in the doorway momentarily trying to make an impression of calm strength while fixing the images of the two messengers firmly in her mind. “It sounds like we have much to discuss.”

The woman, Kestral, smiled. “Thank you for trusting us. Our companions are outside, could we invite them in?”

Jaylissa pretended to consider as she made her way to a chair. Lore stood as she sat and moved to pour her a drink. “I don’t think so.” Said the half-elf. “It would be better for now if our numbers are equal right now; a semblance of neutrality if you will.”

“Very well.” Agreed Jared as Kestral nodded. Neither of them insisted though both believed that Jallarzi and Kellron would take it as a rudeness. After this morning’s fight Jaylissa had every right to be cautious. In all likelihood Kestral and Jared could take Jaylissa and Lore by themselves.

Once Lore had given Jaylissa her drink and sat himself down again Jaylissa took control of the talks.

“For the sake of argument I’m willing to believe that you didn’t have anything to do with my father’s disappearance. Why don’t you tell me what you think you know.”

Kestral collected her thoughts and took the lead. “For starters we believe that your father is Father Dark. We think that in the process of trying to get revenge on us for what we did two months ago that he trusted the wrong people and was either kidnapped or killed for it. Since he’s a wizard it’s a fair guess that he’s been kidnapped but it’s hard to say for sure.”

Jaylissa took a drink while she gathered her thoughts. “It’s plausible.” She conceeded. Reaching another decision she heaved a sigh. “My father is not Father Dark; or rather he’s not always Father Dark. He shares the title with another person who I will not name at this point.”

Jared interrupted. “Could he be responsible for what happened to your father? A power struggle of some sort?”

Jaylissa waved her free hand. “That’s unlikely. He’s my god-father. I think it has to have been someone else.”

Kestral made the connection and assumed Jaylissa was talking about Quereth Holtson. She refrained from voicing her suspicion though. “Well whoever it was set us up at the Blue Gorgon and then framed us for looting it. Was that your father’s idea?”

“No. I don’t believe so. Up until a few minutes ago I assumed you four were behind that. Father would have approved of it though. He was furious with you after your last visit to Corlean.” She nodded to Jared. “As a Sarathian you might be pleased to know that you embarrassed him greatly. As a direct result of your actions the organization lost a full third of its strength and capital. He spent a lot of money and time trying to find out all he could about the five of you.”

Jared nodded gravely but didn’t express any pleasure. “And Ashimar?”

“The young priest? That was my father; at least he capitalized on the man's death. He found a wizard who claimed to have the priest’s soul and purchased it.

“Who was the wizard?”

Jaylissa shrugged. “I didn’t get his name but I did see him once. He was perhaps five decades old with white hair and eyes. The only thing that stood out was that he’s the first wizard I’ve ever seen that cared about his appearance.” She let that sink in and continued. “Father purchased the soul and then worked out a scheme with his partner to sell it back to you in such a way that would embarrass you. This way he’d get the money back with interest and you’d have no legal recourse in getting it back.”

“That worked.” Noted Kestral. Then she changed course. “Has Quereth been working with anyone new recently?”

Jaylissa raised an eyebrow. She got the sense that Kestral dropped the name on purpose. Now she knew that Kestral knew who Grandal’s partner was. “New business partners? Maybe. I believe he was arranging lodgings for a Braenite cult. Since the attack I’ve seen some of the cultists hanging out at the Gaming Den.”

Kestral and Jared glanced at each other. Then Kestral looked back to Jaylissa. “So what now?”

Jaylissa’s green eyes flashed fire. “I want my father back.” Said Jaylissa firmly. “I also want the bastards to pay.” She looked to her two guests. “Will you help me?”

Again Kestral and Jared looked at each other and as one they slowly nodded. “We can try.” Said Kestral. “If he’s still alive.” She looked at Jared as she spoke. “We can do some magical investigations also.” The priest nodded agreement. “If he’s in town we should be able to find and retrieve him.”

Jaylissa held herself very still, then nodded. “Very well. If he’s dead there’s always a chance at Silver Well.” She took another drink. “If he’s dead I want whoever killed him to be dead too.”

“We’re not hired killers…” Began Jared.

Kestral interrupted before the priest could finish. “I’m willing to bet that whoever is responsible won’t be captured willingly.” Said the woman placatingly. “Even if we do capture them, there would jail and quite possibly a death sentence.” She paused and then looked to Jared.

Jaylissa frowned. She preferred revenge, but if the responsible person was in jail a death sentence wouldn’t be too difficult to arrange. “Very well.” She agreed. “To be clear about this, you’re going to find out if my father is alive and who kidnapped him. You’ll help me get him or his body back if he’s in town.”

Jared touched his holy symbol and nodded. “We swear it.”

“That will do. As enemies you four have been bad luck for my father. Let’s see if having you as allies will turn that luck around.” So speaking Jaylissa raised her free hand to her shirt collar and reached for something just under the cloth. Grasping something she pulled upwards.

Kestral cocked her head as Jaylissa’s head was momemtarily blurred and was then obscured by a black silk, excutioner-style mask which had no eyeholes . Jaylissa pulled the mask over her head and shook her hair free.

The half-elven woman looked at the mask a moment and then threw it to Kestral who caught it easily. “My father made these. It can provide a magical disguise and prevent magical detection. If you do all you say you will you can have it.” So saying Jaylissa stood up, signaling that the meeting was at an end.

Kestral and Jared both stood. “We have to deal with some things this afternoon.” Said Kestral. “We can meet back here tonight and keep you updated on what we find out.”

Jaylissa looked about the lounge. “This was supposed to be an anonymous safe house. Since it’s not so secret I’ll head back to the family house. I don’t think I have to worry about being safe from you right now.”

The bargins made, Jared and Kestral said their goodbyes and left, meeting up with Kellron and Jallarzi who were just outside.


----------



## Seravin

> Originally Posted by Joshua Randall
> Ohhhh yeah... *rubs hands in glee, anticipating the coming carnage*




That was my thought at the time. Jaylissa and Lore were 8th level. Valadan and the monk were 7th. The entire ambush was to let the party relieve some frustration and provide a prisoner for interrogation.

So the party takes the captured Valadan back to the Library (in Corlean) and makes him their prisoner. They then decide to go have a talk with Jaylissa. I thought they were being facetious when they were discussing what to do.

Nope.

They split up at the property to look less threatening, go up to the door and knock. Sorceror's don't have very good spot skills. Sense motive isn't a class skill either.

Then they just up and tell the truth and be reasonable and everything. I could expect it from Kestral the social-ninja (just made that up today ), but Jared's player is usually a little more agressive.

That was another time that Kestral pulled a 19 or 20 on her diplomacy die-roll.

All in all, it went pretty well for the party.


----------



## Seravin

> Originally Posted by Joshua Randall
> Murphy's Law, D&D version: When you design a social encounter, the PCs fight; when you design a combat encounter, the PCs talk.
> 
> [hijack]
> It never fails, does it? I had a situation like this in my campaign recently:
> Me (DM): You enter the negotiation chamber and see Eluchir, who is representing the kingdom of--
> Player1: I quickdraw a dagger and throw it at him for 6d6 sneak attack damage.
> Player2: I cast an empowered flame strike.
> Me: *beats head on desk*
> [/hijack]
> 
> Although you did say that your group usually gives villains one chance to negotiate before laying down the smack, so perhaps their discussion with Jaylissa was to be expected.




Heh. I like your version of Murphy's Law. It does sometime feels that way. You're correct that my players will generally give an enemy a chance to talk - however that chance usually expires with the first poisoned crossbow bolt and/or lightning bolt.

I don't think my players have ever pulled what yours did. You have my sympathies.
Although there was the near-disaster during the raid on the Cathedral of Latina. That should be two more posts from now.


----------



## Seravin

*Odds and Ends*

_The heroes made two quick trips before they were to meet with Jaylissa at her house.

Their first trip was back to the warehouse to check on the body of Halloran, the dead monk. They quietly stripped the monk of the few magical items in his possession in order to prevent the equipment from being stolen and used by criminals. Not having a good way to dispose of the body they left the ravaged body on the floor of the warehouse. Later, when they were not wanted, they would direct the City Watch to pick up the body. Little did they know that their time to deal with the monk was short.

Though still unknown to most, the city was falling sway under the influence of both devils and illithid, creating a spiritual cesspool within the city. Halloran’s spirit, nearly as lawful as these creatures, was growing uneasy. Failing in the defense of his charge and then having his corpse looted without so much a prayer the spirit of the monk began to grow angry. In three short days the warehouse would soon be haunted by a vengeful ghost.

---

Their second trip was to the basement of the Library of Corlean, where there were four sturdy cells capable of holding anything from a small dog to a large giant. The assassin, Valadan, was stripped to his underclothes and manacled to the bars in one of the cells. His care and feeding passed uneventfully, punctuated by one notable exchange.

Kellron was trying to get Valadan to provide them with more information on what the assassin knew about Father Dark.

“Why should I trust you?” Asked the assassin.

“Because I am a paladin of Sarath and I will not lie to you.” Kellron’s chest almost puffed with pride.

Valadan snorted. “So what? Everyone knows that the title is just a political appointment to give the church some validity”

Kellron sputtered for a few moments, but the interrogation was effectively over.*_

---

The sun was still up when they left the Library, but just barely. Cautiously the four friends began their way to the Deverex estate under the cover of various illusions. Again, Kellron was invisible while Jared and Kestral used their disguising head gear. Jallarzi alone was disguised without the aid of spell, dressed in clothes and makeup raided from the Library.

So far they had been lucky and had avoided any official contact throughout the day. The luck evaporated just two streets away from the Library. Only a few feet out of an alleyway, the group began crossing a wide street, hoping to duck into another alley.

A quick call of “Halt!” from down the street caused them all to stop momentarily and look.

A squad of Watchmen had turned the corner only sixty feet away and had easily spotted Kestral, Jallarzi, and Jared in the middle of the road.

“Hells.” Muttered Jared. Jared, a lieutenant in the Church of Sarath, didn’t want to fight the Watchmen. It would be a slaughter and they were only doing their jobs. He caught Jallarzi’s eye and the pair took the only remaining option. Fighting was out so that left flight. The two turned and ran away from the guards.

Kestral’s eyes grew wide for a moment and then inspiration struck.

“Guys! Wait! Hold on! It’s the Watch! Come back!” The young woman, disguised as Semina again, then turned to the approaching Watchmen. “Thank Latina you’re here!” She said breathlessly. “We ran into some crazy people casting spells just a few streets up that away!” She said pointing back the way she and her friends had just come from.

Kellron, unable to run very far in full kit, had stayed with Kestral. As a general principle he disapproved of lying but none of the Watchmen seemed interested in questioning him at the moment. Of course he was invisible and they couldn’t see him but the paladin decided to not let that affect his decision to remain quiet.

The Watch-sergeant signaled for half his squad to go after the fleeing man and woman while he used the priviledge of rank to talk to the reasonable woman.

“Who are you?” Barked the man. He looked tired and worried from the stresses of the day.

Kestral remembered to look properly relieved as she spoke. “My name is Semina and I work at the Blue Gorgon. We were going to meet some friends when these crazy people started threatening us a few streets over.” She took a deep breath. “We thought they were the people who attacked the Gaming Den, so we ran for it.” She then looked apologetic. “We thought you were them. I’m sorry.”

Jared and Jallarzi had gotten over a hundred feet away when they realized that Kestral wasn’t with them. Hearing her shouts the pair skidded to a stop in the wet snow and turned, hoping they were about to avoid a fight. Seeing that the Watchmen were being reasonable they raised their hands and trudged back to the squadmen who were running to catch up with the pair.

The seargent was a good man and despite a slight disposition to laziness believed in doing his duty. Everyone knew about the attackers of the gambling house a few days ago. In fact there were standing orders to try and apprehend them at all costs. He looked over the woman calling herself Semina with a critical eye and then glanced at her returning friends.

The sergeant also deemed himself a fair judge of character. Unfortunately for him, Kestral’s skills at lying were quite unfair. The sergeant decided to trust the breathless young woman. “There’s a curfew ma’am. You three need to get indoors as soon as possible.”

Kestral nodded, wide-eyed. “Yes sir. Our friend’s place is just a few streets over.” She then looked fearfully down the alley she had just come from. “You might need to hurry to get to those crazy people.”

The Watch-sergeant nodded. “Come on men! Let’s go see if we can track these people down!” He called. His men groaned slightly but followed him as he turned and broke into a trot down the alley.

Kestral, Jared, Jallarzi, and Kellron broke into a collective sigh of relief.

---

_They made the rest of the way to the Deverex estate without incident. Lore met them at the door and invited them in. The group was invited to use the estate for the next couple days until the current crisises were resolved. Unfortunately the sorceror had grim news for them as he explains why there is a curfew in place.

“The Cathredal is under siege.” Explained the sorceror. “The rumors say that the priests have locked it up and are defending it with the aid of fiends. That might be as far as it went except that people off the street have just been going up to the temple to join the Latinans.” He shook his head. “The Sarathians have now taken to the streets to quarantine the Cathedral and people say they’re planning to raid the Cathedral sometime tomorrow. They better do it soon, because some of them have been defecting too.”

The news sparked a debate amongst the friends on whether to help immediately or wait until the morning. When asked, Deverat urged immediate action to defend the Empire. Upon finding out that kuo-toa were not likely involved, Finslayer opined that they should head back to the Night Below and finish the more important job. In the end they decided to wait until the morning. The news of fiends manning the walls of the Cathedral provided enough incentive to wait until they were fully prepared.

Under Jaylissa’s hospitality the four friends went to bed and had a quiet evening. Only Jallarzi was disturbed. While studying the wizardess sensed the presence of a scrying sphere appearing. With an angry snort she atttemped a dispel magic against the spying magic but it was unsuccessful. Unable to do anything else the wizardess waited patiently to see if the spell would disappear. Fortunately it did less than a quarter of an hour later. Once it was gone she left her room to notify everyone else.

The four friends waited together for about an hour and then went to bed. There were no other distubances._

---

_*I soooo loved this exchange.  _


----------



## Seravin

_It’s the next morning for the characters, snow is falling lightly.  Preparations are made to break the siege of Latina’s Cathedral.

*Jared’s Player (JP):* After we finish getting our spells I want to use the two Planar Ally spells to summon…<flip, flip, flip>…how about two avorals.  We want them to help us retake the church.

*DM:* Heh.  I expected you to say planetar.  Okay, make two DC 22 Knowledge (Religion) rolls to see if you recall the names of any summonable avorals.

*JP:* I almost did, but that seems a little cheesy.  <clatter> I made the rolls.

*DM:* Okay, you recall two names and you’re able to find adequate space in Jaylissa’s home to perform the summoning.  How do you handle the bargaining?  Just a simple gold payment, or do you want to do services?

*JP:* I can’t think of any services right now and I want to get to the Cathedral.  If you don’t mind I’ll just pay the 1,400gp.

*DM:* Not a problem.  You summon the two avorals and explain your need to them.  They are happy to help and direct you to give the gold to the church of Sarath when this is all over.  Hmmmm.  I can’t think of good names for them.  Why don’t you come up with something?

*JP:*  Uh…Bob and Fred.

*DM:* ……….<deep sigh>  Okay, Bob and Fred it is.*  We’ll use these two miniatures for them. _

I should have learned my lesson earlier.  Jared's player once came up with a very undignified command word for a wand once.  This was pretty tame by comparison.


----------



## Seravin

*Shattered Siege*

_I can’t do it.  I just can’t do it.  I’m not going to refer to the two avorals as Bob and Fred._ 

----

A light powder of snow was falling in the early morning as Jared invoked a prayer heaven-ward from the rear courtyard of the Deverex mansion.  The priest knew they would need allies in this morning’s endeavors.  Too many enemies were already about, ranging from merely evil humans to aberrant mind-flayers, to fiendish devils.  Illusion and deception infested the city so the warrior-priest called for aid that could protect and see truly.

A celestial war-cry echoed through the courtyard answering Jared’s prayers and two feathered avorals appeared in mid-air, swooping down to land before him.  A bright radiance surrounded each of the guardian creatures and Jared’s soul basked in the holy light.  

Angelic creatures, avorals are of the guardinal line and are charged with scouting out the hiding places of evil creatures.  Standing seven feet tall, avorals are an imposing cross of human and eagle.  Instead of hair these angels are covered with soft white and dark-blue feathers, giving their sharp-edged features and golden eyes an even more avian cast.  Instead of arms, they have wings with hands located at the mid-point.  Their legs are also distinctly avian ending in sharp, golden talons.

The avorals gazed upon Jared with interest for a long moment.  Satisfied that he met some invisible criteria they nodded as one and the avoral to Jared’s right spoke. 

“Why have you called us warrior?”  Though deep, there was a hint of an eagle’s cry in the voice.

_And so the bargaining began._

---

Jaylissa Deverex and Lore stared out of the second floor window that overlooked the street running in front of the mansion.  Their four newest allies had already disappeared out of sight along with the strange creatures the priest had called.

Jaylissa spoke first, hugging herself tightly for warmth.  “Do you think they can do it?”  She asked.

Lore shrugged.  “We don’t know enough.  I suspect that if there’s anyone in Corlean that can break into the Cathedral, it would be them.  Based on the spells I saw them casting before they left I’d match them against most people in the city right now.”

“I hope you’re right.”  The young woman turned from the window.  “I want my father back.”

“For what it’s worth I think they’ll find him.”

“I do too.”  She said as she headed for the stairs.  “I’m going to write a letter to Quereth and ask him to stay his hand against these people.  Something is going on and I think we’re all being played by someone.”

Lore hesitated a moment and then nodded unhappily.  He lacked his charge's faith in her godfather, but it was her decision.  “I’ll have a runner deliver it when you are ready milady.”  

---

The four made good time through the nearly empty early-morning streets.  The gates to the city were closed and the city was under martial law, but the trouble at the Cathedral kept the army and the Watch from patrolling the streets in any great number.  The two _called_ avorals, Baob and Ferd had followed from high above under the mantle of invisibility.

For the most part the Square looked peaceful in the lightening sky and the gently falling snow; the peacefulness was only a lull however.  Twice now the Sarathians, the army, and the Watch had tried to break into the Cathedral.  The defending Latinans (and undead some whispered) had fought hard but would have been overcome except that members of the Watch and the army had begun to switch sides in the middle of each fight; turning on former comrades until they were struck down too.  Worse, curious city folk who had approached the square too closely had begun to join the Latinan defenders.

In the face of the desertions and the unexpected civilian additions the army, Watch, and Sarathians had pulled back and tried to secure access to the Square and the Cathedral; sending word to the Duke that more reinforcements were necessary.  Somewhat uncharacterisicly Duke Hilmaron seemed indecisive and was still considering his options.

The morning’s new snow was only beginning to hide the muddied and stained ground about the Cathedral.  The fallen bodies had been removed sometime during the night and only the defenders of the Cathedral knew that the dead had gotten up and joined them inside the walls.

---

Hidden in an alley-way Jared looked towards the besieged cathredal some four hundred feet away.  They had seen at least one patrol blocking their route to the walled grounds which meant that only authorized people would be allowed near the building.  The priest discounted the hooded figures manning the wall as irrelevant.  

They had a few options to gain entry including talking to the Sarathian commander or having Jallarzi teleport them inside.  However Jared was only mostly sure that Captain Rusuk of the Sarathian church wouldn’t arrest them and he was loath to use up any of Jallarzi’s precious spells.

Turning to Baob and Ferd the priest asked, “Can you get us into the nave?” 

Baob focused his gaze on Cathedral and the pillar of fire streaming out of the temple.  “Easily,” replied the avoral.

Jallarzi looked about and reached into her spell component pouch.  “Then it’s time for the short-term spells.”

Jared and Kellron nodded and the three of them began casting while Kestral took watch.  The spell-casting went undisturbed though.  As Jallarzi finished her final invocation of _mass haste_, Baob touched her and Jared on the arm and breached the dimensional boundaries.  Likewise, Ferd touched Kellron and Kestral and the three of them disappeared leaving the alleyway empty again.


----------



## Seravin

*Temple Services*

There’s probably a way to describe what happened next.  Indeed, the verbalization of the prayer used to ward the nave and sanctuary of the Cathedral would provide enough technical detail to anyone versed in spellcraft.

For the lay person however the only informative description is that the dimensional doorways didn’t work.  The exit points of the angelic doorways should have opened up in the center of the nave of the cathedral, between the rows of pews.  Instead the exits collapsed upon themselves and the travelers found themselves forced out of the nave and shunted back astrally to the boundaries of the _forbiddance_*.

The six travelers staggered to their feet within the darkened, wide entryway of the church.  Behind them the great double doors were barred shut, denying entry to anyone not bringing a portable ram or magic.  Before them were two large archways curtained off.  The curtains were stained and glistening with some dark liquid.  Beyond the curtains they could hear the muffled chanting of a single deep voice.

The six dimensional-travellers had only a few moments to take this in when shuffling movement within the entryway drew their attention.

Three figures from either side of the entryway emerged from dark alcoves.  The figures were dressed in the white robe of Latinan acolytes with the hoods pulled low obscuring their features; but these robes were bloodied and torn.  Their walk was shuffling, almost lurching, and every living person in the entryway recognized the creatures as the walking dead.

Kellron pivoted to the right, drawing Deverat with a practiced movment, and presented the sword in a salute as he called out.  “Sarath!”  He invoked, channeling the righteous and holy power of the war god.  The three zombies still shuffling towards them burst with a silver fire and burned away to nothingness.

Under the effects of Jallarzi’s hastening spell Kellron pivoted smoothly while holding the same salute.  “Sarath!”  he called out again; and the remaining zombies burned away to dust.

Jared, Kestral, and Jallarzi went up the curtained archways and pushed the soaked cloth (blood they could now tell) aside to peer into the nave beyond.  The scene presented was out of some hellish play.

The nave and sanctuary, once illuminated by sunlight, torches, and candles was now lit only by a monstrous, roiling, pillar of red-orange flame that started were the altar once stood and roared up thirty feet through the ceiling and beyond.  A dark, shadowy shape, perhaps ten feet tall, could just be made out in the center of hellfire.  

The pillar somewhat obscured the back of the sanctuary, but it was apparent that the once gleaming-white statue of Latina the Defender had somehow been transformed to a woman enchained.

A cloud of brimstone smoke hung in the air and the once glorious stained-glass windows were blackened.  What little light seeped through the panes suggested horrible scenes.  The iconic imagery of the shields and swords which had graced the stone and wood of the temple were blackened, twisted, and broken.  Almost like they had been melted or reformed like clay.

There were witnesses to this hellish scene.  The front five or six rows of pews were half-filled with people wearing blackened, hooded robes; just standing and staring at pillar of fire.  Jallarzi was the first to pick out the source of the chanting; a large, robed man standing in the center aisle.  

Apparently realizing that he was about to be interrupted the robed man raised both of his hands up in a sudden movement and the congregation took up the chant with him.  The sudden swell of voices seemed to lend substance to the shadowy, monstrous looking figure trapped in the hellfire.

“Hells.”  Whispered Jallarzi.

Jared agreed, but he wasn’t about to voice that invective.  Catching the half-elf's eye he nodded to the left hand row of pews which she was closest to.  He then jerked his head to the pews on the right.

Jallarzi smiled savagely and nodded agreement.  Nearly as one both Jared and Jallarzi moved into the sanctuary, with Baob following Jared and Ferd protecting Jallarzi.  Corruscating tendrils of black energy flared as the humans and angels entered the nave proper.  Mage, priest, and avoral grimaced but pressed on.  The tendrils died and let them pass unharmed; unable to break their will.  The four cautiously made their way to the rear most pews and looked about the temple for any hiding foes.

Not to be left behind Kellron also raced into the sanctuary and made his way down the long center aisle.  As had happened to his friends, the black energy flared again and tried to keep the paladin at bay; but he wasn’t about to be slowed from his duty.  Kellron was going to try and fill the sinkhole of evil with the righteous wrath of the war god.

Kestral, her mind racing also made to move into the sanctuary at the same time as Kellron.  This time the black warding energy found purchase.  Kestral gave a muffled half-scream as she was blown back into the entryway.  Ravaged nerves screamed pain as the young woman regained her footing.  

Kellron noted his friend’s cry as he skidded to a stop about halfway down the aisle, some sixty feet from the pillar. Pointing Deverat at the flames Kellron invoked a brief but feverant prayer to Sarath.  White power flared up around the paladin and the pillar of hellfire, and for a moment the fires dimmed and the shadowy figure faded.  The flames resurged though as the chanting lended it power again.  Kellron snarled and tried to focus himself; he would be Sarath’s blade.  Again the flames died back as holy power was fed into them and again they resurged.

The black-robed figure leading the chanters turned at the unwanted intrusion.  With a deliberate shrug the man raised his arms up and pulled back his hood.  The snarling visage was the perfect mirror of Kellron.  The man glared at Kellron with hate filled eyes and then was suddenly gone.

Thinking through the pain, Kestral finally remembers what’s been bothering her about the scene and calls out a warning.  “Don’t kill them!” she shouted.  “Whoever is behind this has been kidnapping people of the street!” reminded the young adventurer.

Jallarzi, her hands filled with packets of guano stops the first gestures of a _fireball_ spell and grimaced.  For his part, Jared lets out a slow breath as he realized he nearly invoked a plane of swords into a group of innocents.  There was no telling what that could have done for the creature in the hellfire.

Stuffing the packages back into her spell component pouch Jallarzi looked to Ferd.  “Can you dispel a charm?” she asks.

The guardian angel nods once and turns his sharp-eyed gaze onto the congregation.  With a single bird-like sound a sudden stillness grips the congregation on the left hand side of the Cathedral.  Baob, invokes his own _dispel magic_ with a similar cry, stilling his half of the congregation.  Jared augments the angelic dispelling with his own god-given prayers.

The stillness lasted for about two heartbeats and then the chanting resumed again; but this time by only half of the congregation.  The other half staggered where they stood and began to look around.

“The Defender help us!” cried out a voice, while another person screamed in terror.  Within seconds the formerly enslaved members of the congregation were tripping over each other trying to reach the aisles.

“Keep trying to free the rest!”  Jared ordered the avorals, as he and Jallarzi moved to the center aisle and made their way to Kellron.  They were able to move against the people easily as no one wanted to get in their way and there weren’t enough fleeing people to jam the aisle yet.

Seeing the onrushing horde of panicked people Kestral took a deep breath.  She wasn’t sure what was outside, between the Cathedral and its walls but she would bet her own money that the grounds were not safe.  Lifting up her arms she called out for calm and order.  “Hold up!”  She ordered.  “It’s not safe out there!  Everyone calm down and we’ll get you out of here as soon as the pillar is gone!”

The crowd of twenty-odd people faltered in their rush to the door, but fear is a harsh master it drove away reason.

Thinking fast and still acting under spell-graced speed Kestral stamped her foot and threw back her shoulders, remembering to slow her words so she could be understood.  “I said hold it!”  She shouted, her voice piercing through the threatening madness.  “There are undead monstronsities just outside the doors waiting to eat anyone who steps out.  We have angels in here who will save us all if we just lend them our prayers!”

The stick and carrot approach worked and Kestral cared not whether or not either was true, as long as everyone else did.  Kestral pointed to the alcoves at the side.  “Everyone just squeeze into these alcoves right now, out of the way of danger.  We don’t want any stray spells hurting anyone.”  She smiled with satisfaction as the still fearful people began to obey her.

Meanwhile, Kellron was still trying to channel the will of the war god with only limited success.  Each time the pillar would dim but it would always flare back to life.  Kellron knew in part it was because he was more warrior than priest and it was only his force of personality and devotion to Sarath that would make this task possible.  Then Jared was beside him, lending his own faith to the task, and the two men poured more holy energy into the pillar.  

Jallarzi moved up beside the two men and looked about as the avorals continued to free the congregation of their mental enslavement.  A cry of pain drew her immediate attention and Jallarzi whirled to the source.

Almost all of the congregation members were throwing back their hoods as they were freed.  A handful had not, but in the ensuing confusion the hoods had dropped back anyway.  There were undead mixed amongst the congregation and they were starting to attack anyone trying to flee.

Jallarzi paused only long enough to pick out two ravaged, walking corpses and invoked a stream of five _magic missiles_.  “More undead."  she noted to the two men.

Kellron only half-heard.  Reaching deep inside he found and touched the well of energy that he recognized as Sarath.  Raw holy power, bolstered by Jared’s own attempts, poured from the paladin in a torrent of silver flame**.  Under this perfect expression of faith the hellfire pillar didn’t flicker, it simply went out with single monstrous cry of rage that was suddenly silenced.

Without missing a beat Kellron and Jared each turn to face separate parts of the congregation and invoked a final turning each.  The skeletons and zombies flared briefly again and disappeared.

Kellron allowed himself a moment of satisfaction before turning to Jared.  “We need to get these people out of here.  Can Baob and Ferd get them out the same way they got us in?  Maybe take them all the way to the church of Sarath…”

Jared nodded.  “Good idea.”  Turning to the avorals he shouted to be heard above the shouts of the now freed crowd and Kestral’s commanding voice.  “Baob!  Ferd!  Please start ferrying these people to the safety of Sarath’s church, or as close as possible in a single trip.”

The two guardian angels grunted assent and half-hopped/half-flew to the entryway.  Once there they began gathering the thirty or forty odd Imperial citizens close so they could get them to safety.

---
_*This was a 3.0 Forbiddance.  The way it was written left me in some doubt on how it denied teleportation effects.  I ultimately ruled it would dump then at the edge of the effect. 

**Natural 20 with an assist from Jared.  Kellron was the primary because he has a nice Charisma score which offset his paladin-ness penalty.  Jared has a Charisma or 10 or 11. _


----------



## Seravin

That was the last update before the board crash.
I apparently didn't actually save the last page of posts, so I reposted from my drafts.

Also, cutting and pasting like this lost the formatting.  I'll be going over the posts as time permits and updating.

The next post has been in the works for awhile, but apparently I failed a fortitude save or two and I've been moderately ill.  I'll try and post by this Sunday though.


----------



## Seravin

*Hurried Activities*

Balraj seethed at the intrusion even as he fled through the astral places of the desecrated church.  Some would call his flight cowardice but Balraj viewed the retreat as an expedient necessity.  He had little doubt that he could defeat the mortal Sarathians now that he was able to manifest his full power without regard to witnesses; especially since the woman from the Blue Gorgon was not with them.

Likewise Balraj was confident in the face of the avorals.  If they were the strongest divine emissaries he and his brothers would have to face then the gods had already given up on the city and there would be much pain and agony to savor in the coming days.  It had been a long, long time since he had plucked the feathers from a guardian angel. More scout than warrior the avorals represented little more than an annoyance.

The might of the mortals and the angels combined however gave the devil pause.  No one in the city had tested the might of theses humans in many days.  Certainly they were easily tricked but the priest had managed to discern his true form beneath his mortal disguise.  In truth it was just barely possible that the angels and mortals together could have killed him.  Maybe.

So Balraj stepped into the astral to find his brothers, Foruk and Yyntod.

---

Foruk was upstairs in the office chambers with the woman-priest.  Not the high-priestess herself but her lieutenant.  Balraj hadn’t bothered to learn her name though Foruk undoubtedly knew it.  Foruk viewed torture as an art form that required working not only with the flesh and mind of the victim but with the spirit as well.  Foruk favored priests as his principle medium as they had the spiritual fortitude to make long-lasting works.

Foruk, disguised as the mortal priest Jared, spat and turned as Balraj appeared within the room.  “I asked you not to bother me Brother.  She is not ready for display as of yet for I have barely had time to whisper to her all of her sins.”  The devil sighed.  “Now I shall have to start all over.”

There was a whimper from the bed and the devil allowed himself a satisfied smile.

Balraj shook his head with impatience.  “They are here brother.” he said shortly.

Foruk paused and then grinned.  “Let us find our other sibling then.  He is in the large room of meetings with the priestling and the sorceror-pawn.”

---

Yyntod, in the guise of the wizardess Jallarzi, gazed with interest at the pulsing globe of violet light floating some three feet over the wide table.  Various other colors pulsed within the radiance and the shape would occasionally deform however there was little else that revealed the power inherent in the dimensional extrusion.  The wet, throaty sounds from the corner of the room and the thin film of clear slime covering the walls ample were evidence that there _was_ power in the ball of light.  The remains of the Latinan acolytes were making that horrific, bubbly sound and the slime had been their extracted sanity.  Yyntod wondered what else he could do with the globe.

The priestling, a servant to Aruk and of so little power that Yyntod had not even bothered to learn his name, looked at the corner and then to the illithid-pawn sorceror.  “Send that thing away.”  He snapped.  Yyntod refrained from shaking his head

The sorceror smiled beatifically, though the madness in his eyes was still apparent.  “Of course.  The song is not meant for you anyway.  Not until the cerebrotic seed has expanded even further.”  The sorceror looked to the corner and uttered a series of squeals and clicks.

Any further conversation was cut short by two small pops of displaced air.  Balraj and Foruk, still in their human Sarathian guises appeared by the door to the room.  Balraj gaze flicked about the room dismissively before settling on Yyntod.  “They are here, in the nave,” announced the devil.

Disguised as Jallarzi, Yyntod’s smile was chilling.  “Excellent,” purred the disguised devil.  “Let us prepare for battle” he commanded the two humans.

---

Baob and Ferd stepped into the entryway from out of nowhere, each graced with a visible halo of power.  The holy aura had gained the avorals the instant respect and unquestioning obedience of the priests outside the walls.  The angelic guardians looked about the entryway and settled their gaze upon the young woman organizing the evacuation even as they reached out to take the hands of the faithful and lead them from the damned and damaged temple.  If they saw anything of note about the young woman they kept it to themselves as they smiled comfort to milling humans.


----------



## Seravin

Looking back over my notes I can see that I didn't run _forbiddance_ properly.  Balraj never should have been able to teleport out of the nave.  It's been a couple years since we ran this session and I'm not sure if I did it on purpose or not.  I think it worked okay in the context of the game and the players abilities but I doubt I'd do it this way again.

There's more to come but I'm still fighting whatever bug I picked up and life has gotten busy.  I'm going to see if I can manage small/frequent updates.


----------



## Torgal

Just a few words of encouragement. I have spent the last week being rather unproductive at work while engrossed in this SH. I love the various outlooks on the story from villians, NPC's and even the familiars and weapons! I look forward to more and now that I am caught up maybe I'll get a few projects at work finally completed


----------



## Seravin

Torgal said:
			
		

> Just a few words of encouragement. I have spent the last week being rather unproductive at work while engrossed in this SH. I love the various outlooks on the story from villians, NPC's and even the familiars and weapons! I look forward to more and now that I am caught up maybe I'll get a few projects at work finally completed




Welcome to the boards!  And thank you for the kind words.
I won't apologize for making it interesting - but I will sympathize for the lost work time.   

I'm about half-way done with the next installment, but life seems to keep getting in the way.  My own projects at work are also piling up so I'm not going to offer when I'm posting next.   

The good news is that I'm still interested in continuing the SH and I have a lot of material - just not a lot of time to format it.  
The words are appreciated though and I'll try and get the next bit done as soon as possible.


----------



## Seravin

*The Welcoming Committee*

Shifting from the meeting room with a brief exercise of his will, Balraj led the charge from under the cover of _invisibility_.  The devil’s destination was a narrow ledge high above the floor along one wall of the nave.  A cruel smile crossed the devil’s lips as he realized that their prey was where he had left them and clustered oh-so-close together, and the avorals were nowhere to be seen.

Even better his arrival had not been noticed.  The human’s attention appeared to be on the darkened shadows and the milling cattle in the entryway.  Remarkably, the three other hushed whumps of air signaling the arrival of his brothers and the humans also went unnoticed. 

Waving a hand out towards the three clustered humans on the floor below, Balraj’s smile turned to a sneer as he invoked a twenty-foot tall, encircling _wall of fire_ about his prey.  The heat of the hellfire wall was enough to drive the humans back a step to the center, but none of them could avoid the hellish heat.  The invoked power shattered Balraj’s cloak of invisibility revealing that he was still disguised as the human paladin.  

Nearly simultaneously a bead of fire formed and shot from the ledge opposite Balraj.  The bead sped forth like an arrow and exploded in a ball of orange flame directly over the top of the fiery wall.  Foruk, still disguised as the Sarathian priest, was revealed with the fiery invocation and his sneer was the equal of Balraj’s.

There was a pause and then all within the nave and foyer heard the hurried voice of a hasted spellcaster invoking a spell from amongst the pews, some twenty feet away from the fire-wall.  Barely a second later another voice started to chant.

---

Jallarzi only had time to turn towards the direction of the voices.  Beyond the bright flames were dark shapes that she could only just make out.  Clinically she recognized several syllables and realized that the voice was invoking something akin to a _cone of cold_; but something was off.  The other voice was praying for a spell of _blindness_

No sooner had Jallarzi finished that thought then a storm of green, slushy acid erupted from the pews, engulfing everything in its path.  The pews in the way disintegrated under the slushy deluge and even the wall of fire wavered enough to allow the acid to reach those inside.  

At almost the same time Jallarzi’s eyes filled with darkness.  Shaking her head she shrugged the spell off and was relieved to find that she was still standing.  Jallarzi began to reached for her potions when she heard the hasted syllables begin to repeat themselves.  Her eyes grew wide but she didn’t need to give a warning shout.  Both Kellron and Jared heard it too and they understood what was coming.  Mercifully the second voice was beginning a different prayer.

---

The exultant shout died before it was voiced and Balraj’s sneer faltered as the greenish acid evaporated as suddenly as it had been created.  The three were still standing.  Both the paladin and the wizardess were sorely hurt, but they were still standing.  Worse, the priest was completely unharmed; the spellstorm had not touched him at all.  

Stunned, Balraj got off to a slow start and the devil didn’t have time to so much as swear as twin globes of radiance suddenly appeared in the foyer.  The avorals had come back.  The burning _wall of fire_ alerted the angelic guardians that there were new attackers to deal with even as the still frightened humans pressed in against them.

Her body burned and aching, Jallarzi orientated on the still chanting voice and invoked a storm of ice, bending her concentration to ignore the waves of heat radiating off the fiery wall*.  The _ice-storm_ caught the sorceror, priest, and the Jared-doppelganger high on the wall.  Not satisfied with that and still under the effect of her hastening spell, the wizardess followed up with a _sonic-substituted ice-storm_ centered on the same place.  The cry of pain she hears over the thunderous spell makes her smile but the chanting still continues.  

Like Jallarzi, Kellron had taken the brunt of the onslaught.  Gritting his teeth and ignoring what he was about to do Kellron ran through the flames towards the still chanting voice.  The other side of the fiery wall was blessedly cool and the paladin looked about at the enemies before them as he invoked Sarath’s blessing to heal his burned and smoking flesh.  

Dopplegangers of himself, Jared, and Jallarzi stood precariously on ledges about the nave while two humans stood amongst the wreckage of pews some forty feet away.  One of the men, dressed in smoking black robes looked dazed and was already trying to work past the effects of Jallarzi’s counter barrage.  The man next to the sorceror was dressed in black platemail and was just about to complete a spell of his own.  The one still casting bore a shield with the symbol of Tresh emblazoned on it and was loosely holding an ugly looking mace while the free hand gestured.  Grimly, Kellron moved closer to the two men but he knew he wouldn't get there before the spell wasfinished.

Jared was reacting nearly as fast as Kellron.  His prayer of _spell resistance_ had just been completed before the spell storm had enveloped them all and he was grateful for his foresight.  Jallarzi was on her last legs however and the priest knew that the wizardess was counting on him.  Reaching out to touch his friend the priest invoked his most powerful prayer of healing, restoring Jallarzi to full health with but a touch and an invocation.  The priest then turned towards the still chanting voice and invoked a spell of purity, washing the area in pure goodness.  

Kellron watched the holy light spill over the sorceror, Treshan priest, and the devil disguised as Jared.  The sorceror’s scream was cut short as he crumpled to the ground, his flesh smoking nearly as much as Kellron’s had moments before.  The priest grunted but continued his spell. 

The quickest of his brothers, Yyntod snarled as he saw the backwash of light from the holy radiance now filling the foyer.  Dropping from his ledge over the door to the foyer Yyntod pivoted and picked out the armed woman who was even now directing the humans into alcoves.  His gaze met hers momentarily and he tried to bend her to his will.  

Yyntod’s effort was for naught.  The woman, Kestral, was standing within the radiance of the avorals and the charm washed off their protective aura.  The magical effort shattered Yyntod’s _invisibility_ and the devil was revealed disguised as Jallarzi in a ragged, black and red dress. 

Balraj knew that Yyntod could prevail against all of those in the foyer so he concentrated on the paladin who was free from the flames.  Uncoiling his whip the devil leapt lightly to the ground, landing some ten feet away from the paladin.  With a flick of his powerful wrist he snapped the whip at his foe.  The paladin batted the weapon away with his shield with an almost distracted air, his attention was on the spellcasting priest.

Foruk, stunned at the counterattack, teleported away.  Every spell had pierced his profane resistance and he had been sorely wounded.  Confused, the devil sought sanctuary to heal his wounds and prepare again.  Foruk saw the illithid-pawn sorceror drop as he teleported away, but gave the expendable human little thought.  The human had been expendable anyway.

Remarkably the priest had managed to sustain his summoning spell throughout the entire spell barrage.  Even as Jared was finishing his _holy smite_ the priest finished his spell of summoning, conjuring forth a fiendish ape from some hellish realm.  The priest shouted something in the infernal tounge and the creature bounded towards the foyer.  The priest then turned to Kellron, worried, and conjured an unholy darkness around the paladin and himself.  The darkness burned like cold-fire and stank of evil.  The priest then shifts his mace from his shield hand and readies himself.

Events were happening fast and for the first time in a very long time, Kestral found herself slow to react.  Shaking the confusion off Kestral drew her sword and yelled to the remaining Imperials.  “Head to the alcoves!  Let the angels fight for you!”  Remarkably the crowd obeyed.  She hoped that the avoral’s auras would protect the innocents from any stray fireballs.

Converging on the Jallarzi look-alike, the bird-like guardians slashed at the woman, barely leaving scratches.  Uncoiling her whip, the woman/devil sneers prettily at them.  For their part the avorals can see beyond the glamour concealing the devil and know that right now they are only buying time.

Standing in the center of the fiery circle where the broiling heat was only marginally less, Jallarzi strained to peer through the flickering wall.  The movement of a large creature bounding past the fiery wall catches her attention, but she pauses for a moment.  

Kellron calls out to his friends.  “A little help?”

Jared, hearing Kellron’s call, casts a spell of _daylight_ upon the darkness.  A piercing light momentarily appears within the darkness but it is then consumed utterly.  Jared snarls but decides to engage the Kellron doppelganger that had dropped from above.  “See what you can do.”  he tells Jallarzi.  Raising Finslayer Jared charges through the flames unharmed and strikes at a creature that looked almost exactly his friend.  

“Good one!” shouted Finslayer as he sinks deep into the whip-carrying Kellron.  The blade sinks nearly to the hilt, and the evil creature stumbles as Jared pulls the enchanted blade free.

Seeing Jared is otherwise occupied Jallarzi first invokes a binding spell, freezing the charging ape in place.  She then abjures the darkness spell, clearing the _damning darkness_ from the once sacred hall. 

Kellron breathes freely and charges the Treshan.  Unfortunately his wild swing misses.   The Treshan’s answering strike is more measured and he manages to hit the paladin upside the head with his wicked looking mace.  Kellron grunts but his helmet absorbed most of the blow and he readies himself for another flurry.

Meanwhile Yyntod lashes at the avorals with his whip.  He manages to strike twice but while the whip scores blood the unholy power in the whip fails to stun the angels.  Positioned as he is in the foyer Yyntod is unconcerned.  The devil doesn’t see what is going on in the nave and is paying more attention to the armed woman who is trying to come up from behind.

Not quite panicked, Balraj steps away from the Sarathian priest and teleports across the hall putting himself within striking distance of the paladin.  He wants room from the Sarathian priest for the moment. 

Foruk makes his appearance next; this time on a different ledge and for the moment goes unnoticed.  Rather then patiently wait Foruk lets loose with a quickened _wall of fire_, encircling Jallarzi within a tight circle of flickering fire.  The flames are close enough that the young woman’s clothes begin to smolder.

The Treshan priest is feeling confident after his successful strike against the Sarathian warrior.  He proceeds to lay blow after blow against the paladin and only then realizes how lucky his first blow had been as each subsequent strike is fended off.  A cold sweat beads upon the priest’s brow.

Finally gaining her bearings Jallarzi looks about and sees the source of the second fire.  Gritting her teeth Jallarzi covers her face and runs through both walls of fire, somehow managing not to cry out with the pain.  As she emerges from the last wall, her once white hair now blackened, Jallarzi glares at the devil disguised as Jared and invokes another binding, freezing the creature in place.  Jallarzi then continues moving towards the foyer.

Nearly recovered from the knock to his head Kellron cries out “Sarath!” and smites the Treshan with a single clean blow.  The priest crumples under the blow like a sack of potatoes and Kellron uses the momentum of the blade to step closer to his evil twin.  The whip-carrying Kellron’s eyes grow wide as Deverat begins to sing a celestial song.

_Balraj finally recognized the blade.  No one had said that the Song of Angels had been found.  Feebly the devil tried to entangle the blade with his whip, but there was no slowing down the paladin.  The last sound Balraj heard before he was beheaded was the cry of “Sarath!” accompanied by a celestial aria._

The corpse that looked like Kellron shimmered and grew, revealing the mishappened body of a nine-foot long (minus a head) gargoyle like creature.  The devil was well muscled and its leathery skin was covered with ruddy scales.  Almost immediately the body began to smoke and decompose.  Kellron gives the corpse a bare glance and then ran towards the ledge where the held devil posing as Jared was standing.

Jared beat Kellron to the punch.  Before the paladin had traversed half the distance Jared invoked a horizontal _blade barrier_ on top of the devil, laying it so that the blades cover most of the nearby ledges.  Unable to leap out of the way the devil was chopped and slashed into a pulpy mass.  The body fell to the floor of the cathedral with a wet thump, but even from forty feet away Jared could tell the body was beginning to knit itself up.

Yyntod heard the music and recognized it for what it was.  Snarling, the devil pressed the attack against the angels.

Bleeding heavily from the whip wounds, Baob and Ferd step back and drop their divine aura.**  Yyntod raised a perfectly formed eyebrow in askance and looked about the foyer.  He doesn’t know why the angels have done so and wonders if it is a trap.  Seeing Jallarzi approach he understands and smiles.

“How dare you impersonate me and use my looks to ruin my friends!”  Jallarzi’s anger is righteous but she doesn’t understand that Yyntod admires the pride behind it.  This is a human he could work with.  Jallarzi lets loose with two flights of _magic missiles_.  The missiles slash through the devil’s resistance drawing deep wounds.  Wounds that start to heal almost immediately.

Within the nave Kellron and Jared ensure that Foruck will never rise again.  The unconscious devil cannot even teleport away as the two men slash at the fiend’s body.

Yyntod ignores the spell-made damage and smiles, knowing how that smile will infuriate the still burning woman.  “You have spirit.”  He admires.  So saying he drops a fireball just outside the foyer, deliberately missing the cowering humans.  The devil didn’t particularly care about the humans but he and brothers would need the fodder to reopen the gate.

The ball of fire roars through most of the foyer with a ferocity that Jallarzi is unable to avoid.  The wizardess drops to the ground, her flesh burned almost black and her hair almost completely burned away.  

Somehow Kestral manages to avoid the spiraling flames that had licked out from the explosion.  Seeing her friend drop Kestral calls out to the two men.  “Jallarzi’s down!”  Then to Baob and Ferd, “Bring that aura up!”  Bravely the young woman continues to try and harry the wizardess-disguised devil

Seeing the wisdom of Kestral’s command the two guardian angels bring their protective auras back up.  Baob maneuvers around to Jallarzi and touches the half-elf, easing enough of her wounds that the wizardess wakes up.  Ferd lets loose with a flurry of his own _magic missiles_ at the devil, but they burn harmlessly away against the devil’s hide.

Jallarzi stirs and stands.  Her hastening spell nearly expiring, Jallarzi maneuvers around to the front doors, putting her back to the Imperials.  Gritting her teeth through the pain Jallarzi invokes a _cone of cold_.  The blast of frigid air scours the resistance of the fiend and it drops to the floor unconscious.  

The frost covered corpse twitches on the floor and Jallarzi thinks she sees that the flesh is still trying to heal itself.  Rolling her eyes Jallarzi lets fly with another flurry of magic missiles.  “Someone get in here and kill this thing!”  She yells.

---

It doesn’t take long for Kellron to dispatch the last two fiends using the holy power that flows through Deverat.  Less than a minute after their surprise attack the three fiendish brothers are no more; their essence sent back to the hellish plane that spawned them.  Perhaps in a century or more they would rise again as manes.  Perhaps not.


------

_As an interesting side note, everyone but Kestral had an initive over 20.  She was down at 7.

*We apparently forgot that the wall of fire was opaque.  As near as I can tell after so long, everyone was targeting through the wall.

**Jared’s player was running the avorals and I’m still not sure why he did this.  I think, in retrospect it was because Jallarzi was going to be entering the area and they didn’t want her spells interrupted.
_


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## Seravin

Moving is heck.  Being involved in 3 moves and a house building is worse.

I'm not going to be able to update for awhile - probably not until late July or August.
Just thought I'd let people know that I still plan on updating things - just not soon.


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## Seravin

*Exploring Religion*

“One…two…three…heave!”

Kellron and Jared grunted with effort, lifting the massive oak beam that barred the double doors leading to the main courtyard of the temple.  Straining, the two warriors carried the bar back far enough to allow the doors to swing freely and then dropped it without ceremony.  

The crash of the wooden beam echoed throughout the empty foyer disturbing the stillness that had finally settled about the sanctuary and nave.  The disturbace was short-lived though and the completely natural stillness settled quietly about the six companions.

The remaining captives were now in the custody of Captain Rusuk of Sword House; Baob and Ferd had just finished transporting them along with a message to the good Major.  The message included a brief update on the defeat of the devils as well as a request for two more hours before the Major retook the cathedral.

The request, delivered by two angels in full glory had been well received and Captain Rusuk had acquiesced.  It would take him about that long to question the freed captives, figure out a safe place to put them, and organize a force to retake the cathedral.

Grimacing, the two men stretched their arms for a moment and then reequipped their shields and drew their weapons.  As Deverat and Finslayer were drawn Baob and Ferd each grabbed hold of a pull ring on the doors and pulled.  The massive wooden portals opened easily but creaked under their own weight.

A short flight of stairs led down from the doors to the courtyard and from there to the main gates leading to The Square.  At the bottom of the square stood a score of men dressed in the same tattered, blackened robes as the captives inside had been.  They stood silently at attention, facing the gates.  

The slight groan of the doors caused the robed men to turn as one, shuffling their feet slightly, to look at the entrance of the cathedral.  It became instantly apparent that the men were newly dead, their blood barely dried around the ragged death wounds of their shredded throats.  Seeing the emblems of the church of Sarath, the walking corpses began to shuffle up the steps.

Kellron and Jared rolled their eyes.  As one, the two men snapped up their swords in a salute and bent their will to the destruction of the corpses.  Two brief flares of silver fire later and the courtyard was empty, save for the empty, fluttering, blood-stained robes.

Kestral scanned the walls and the grounds.  "Looks okay from here.  There might be a couple bodies up on the walls, but I can’t tell from this angle."  

Jared nodded.  “I just wanted to make it easier for the Major.  We don’t have time to do a thourough search of the grounds if we want to make sure the cathedral is safe to enter.”

With that, the six companions went back inside closing the door behind them but leaving it unbarred.

---

_The exploration of Latina’s Cathedral was…sobering.  The infernal essence that had pervaded and perverted the temple was gone and the incessant roar of the hell-flame had given way to an eerie silence.  It was if the almost palpable malice had not really left but instead was merely sleeping.

Turning to the left-hand door just inside the nave, the heroes (for that is what they were being called by the rescued survivors) began exploring the eastern corridors and rooms of the not-quite deserted church.  Blue-gray fog covered the floor, giving evidence that something was still not right within the once hallowed rooms.  The fog, which began to seem more like smoke, defied gravity crawling up each person’s legs like the grasping tendrils of some massive, cancerous belker.  

The first real find was a book wrapped in black leather with a heavy iron clasp.  Deducing that it wasn’t church property, Jallarzi invokes a minor divination and determines that at least three transmutation spells of moderate strength surround it.  The wizardess claims it just in case; suspecting it may be the spellbook of the mad caster they had just killed.

Moving further down the hall they all begin to hear the faint muttering of unintelligible voices in a nearby room.  Kestral just shrugs, unable to make out the words.  Deciding not to take chances Jallarzi begins a summoning spell.  The magics rip and tear from her hands before she finished the spell however.  A malformed bear appears with a soft_ splortch.  _Instead of the rich golen fur of a celestial entity the bear is covered in what look to be black, segmented spider legs.  

The alien bear looks mournfully at Jallarzi and makes a wet, questioning sound.  Jallarzi tries to get the creature to respond to basic commands, but it is only with Kestral’s knowledge of languages that the wizardess is able to make the bear respond*.  

Forewarned and now with an ally the heroes open up the door leading to the source of the talking to reveal a large meeting room reeking of some foul, acid odor.  Half-sitting on the massive table and the chairs surrounding it were two…creatures.  The things were amorphous blobs about eight feet across, and covered with eyes and mouths of all shapes and sizes.  A number of the eyes extended from the blob-like shapes and swiveled to the door as it opened as the chattering from the many mouths increased in loudness and seemed to seep into their brains.

Before anyone could react one of the blobs spit a black gummy substance at Kestral, momentarily blinding her.  The other blob flopped to the flagstone floor which dissolved into a morass of mud almost instantly.  The battle was brief but hard-won, with the summoned bear being slain almost immediately.  Fortunately no one lost their senses to the maddening din the creatures created.

The next room was equally dangerous.  Another meeting room it was empty of creatures though the walls were covered in clear-seeming slime.  In the center of the room hovered a multi-colored sphere of light that pulsed at random intervals.  Jallarzi recognized it as a small and probably unstable _gate_.  Deciding to not take chances the half-elf backs everyone up and invokes a fireball at the far edge of the room.

Amplifying the blast, the gate adds energy to the blast.  The blast of fire should have stopped short of the room’s door.  Instead the flames blast from the room, licking the hem of Jallarzi’s robe.  If they hadn’t stepped back the half-elf’s own spell would have engulfed them.

Discussion follows for no one is willing to let the minor-gate stay in place for others to find.  Jared is the one who comes up with a solution.  Invoking a holy-white aura, Jared manages to dispel the gate, with Baob teleporting him away at the last moment before the gate implodes; sucking the contents of the room, the slime, and the fog in the corridors before it disappears with a quiet pop.

It was in the cathedral’s library that they discovered some clue of what the invaders had been doing for the past few days.  Searching the open books Kestral discerned that they all discussed church relics.  Questions to Baob revealed that the High Priestess Raptoran most certainly would have been entrusted with a scroll of The Invoked Promise** which would be used in only the most dire of circumstances.

Now even more concerned that a relic of such power might have fallen to infernal hands the group hurries their searching of the first floor rooms.  Within the kitchens they find a grisly stew containing blood and other things.  Elsewhere in Raptoran’s private chapel they find a small stash of arms and potions, apparently not found by the invaders.

Aware that their time was running out the heroes descended into the crypts, intent on making sure that the church relics had gone undisturbed._

---

_*Jallarzi didn’t know Celestial.  Kestral did and I think Jared might have too.  Certainly the avorals knew it.  This would come up again though with summoned critters outside of combat.  Kestral would give the caster the phrase for “do what she says” and would then order the creature as needed.

**aka a scroll of _miracle_._


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## Seravin

Well, I've moved house, helped two other people move, and now have 1 rank in "carrying things that are useful in building a house".  Oh...and I was sick most of last week.

It was a busy summer and it's not quite over but I wanted to get at least one post in this month.  I'll be away from the computer for the next three weeks, but will hopefully have a new update by mid-September.

The next post should finish the clean-up of the cathedral and then it's on to the fallout which causes Kestral to decide to join the church of Sarath.


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## Imruphel

Great to see you posting again, Seravin. I look forward to more.


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## Joshua Randall

I've been remiss -- consider this is blanket "encouring comment and desire for more story hour goodness".


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## Seravin

Imruphel said:
			
		

> Great to see you posting again, Seravin. I look forward to more.






			
				Joshua Randall said:
			
		

> I've been remiss -- consider this is blanket "encouring comment and desire for more story hour goodness".




Thank you both.  It was enough to kick me in the butt and get going again (Kestral's player helped too).  
Life is still busy and I've been wrestling with the next bit.  Not quite writer's block but close.  Quite frankly it just didn't seem interesting to repeat what happened - so I came up with another point of view.

So here's the next bit with more to come sooner than later.


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## Seravin

*Another Point of View*

_Aesiphon waited and prayed.  
As one of the Defender’s Own, Aesiphon was knowledgeable of the virtues of duty, courage, and compassion.  She didn’t so much understand the virtues as embody them.  An angel and divine guardian, Aesiphon had protected the most holy relices of Crown’s Vigil for over a decade without mishap.  The Defender’s presence filled the vault and the church above with warmth and strength, and provided all the sustenance that the angel required.  Meditation and reflection substituted for rest.  The guarding was her duty for another decade and a half and she could not imagine, much less think, of doing any less.   

Even now with those virtues in conflict.   

The desecration of the cathedral above was a sword blow that had driven all warmth away, like a soldier on the battlefield whose lifeblood ebbed away.  Omniscience was not given to Aesiphon but she had learned all the sounds and sighs of the great cathedral that she basked under.  The loss of each priest, the taking of each life, had stabbed at her and the call of compassion cried out for her to comfort them.  Duty demanded that she not be distracted and protect the relics.  

Worse had come soon after; three presences that defiled the building just by being there.  Dark things smelling of death and blood and terror.  Aesiphon had smelled their like in the past, before she had taken up this recent duty.  Fiends.  Devils.  Creatures of Tresh.  The call of the Defender then burned within Aesiphon’s heart, demanding that she confront the creatures and defend the building.  Again, duty demanded that she stay and protect the relics.

Conflicts like these can lead to madness.  Duty versus duty is a terrible strain.  Fortunately, Aesiphon was also blessed with courage.  Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to wait when every fiber calls out to charge.

The smell of blood and the stink of terror filled the halls.  The cries of pain and gibbering madness echoed in every nook and cranny.  The dead walked and an alien presence began to warp the very walls.

All the while Aesiphon waited and prayed.

As the fourth dark presence began to make itself known, a General of the Pit, hope came and banished the darkness.  Bright light washed over Latina’s alter; again and again until suddenly the door between worlds was shut in the very face of the general.  Sarath had sent his champions.

The three creatures of Tresh were then banished; first one, then the second, and finally the third.  It happened almost as fast as it took to notice and understand that the darkness was fading.  The weight upon the desecrated building lifted, despite the still alien presence.  With the banishment came the battle song of Deverat, he who was the Song of Angels and the war cry of two guardian angels.

Deep in the waiting meditation Aesiphon tracked the song and the war cries and peace begin to fill her heart again.  The alien presence that had crept in was banished next.  The song of the lesser relics hidden in the small chapel soon followed as they cried in joy at being found by worthy champions.

Aesiphon smiled.

Then there was the creak of the stairs as Sarath’s own made their way into the crypts.  The walking dead were laid to rest in twos and threes as the champions wandered the halls.  Finally the champions found the hidden door that they had passed and came into the outer chamber of the vault with its altar and the statue of the Defender.

Preparing herself, Aesiphon entered the statue and gazed upon the champions of the cathedral.  The one in the lead wore the regalia of a warrior-priest of Sarath.  The dark-haired man was surveying the room with caution.  Only a little behind was a warrior who also wore the symbol of Sarath, and bore the Song of Angels.  Behind them were two women, a white-haired half-elven bearing the grace and power of Avia and a human woman with as much presence and bearing as any mortal that Aesiphon had ever watched over.  Behind them were two guardian eagles.

Seeing nothing amiss in the hidden chapel the two warriors took the relics liberated from upstairs, a sword, a shield, and a pouch, and laid them upon the altar.  The two warriors then saluted the statue of Latina and all four mortals bowed low in respect as they muttered a short prayer to the Defender to protect these items from any stray interlopers.

Courage had been rewarded and duty had been fulfilled.  It was given to the angel to know that the lost priestess would be found and cared for soon.  Grace more certain than knowledge filled the angel Aesiphon and she raised the statue’s arm in benediction as the blessing flowed through her to the champions of Sarath._


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## Seravin

*Marching Orders*

_Earlier this morning…_
“I warn you, _Captain_,” sneered the thin, little man dressed in the latest court fashion.  “It would serve you better to learn from the mistakes of your superiors than to emulate them.  Your general is exiled north and your colonel is all but convicted of treason.  You would do well not to give the Duke any reason to believe you shared in her conspiracy with the Raptoran woman.” 

Years of discipline kept the snort of derision from escaping the senior-captain’s mouth, though his contempt for the man before him was visible to all with the wit to see it.  Instead the tall captain, still wearing his dented and stained armor, stared stoicly at the young merchant who had brought him orders with the Duke’s seal. 

Ker Quentin Merith was not known for being a brilliant judge of character but in truth he was more discerning then he was given credit for.  Right now he only cared that the captain before him dare not voice his contempt.  Quentin believed that the captain feared the power he wielded, and Merith decided that he liked the feeling of power.  As one of the prominent citizens advising Aruk he was finding more opportunities to weild that power; such as now.  

In the wake of the Raptoran conspiracy His Grace was relying on trusted advisors to be his eyes, ears, and voice within the city.  Aruk had entrusted him to bring His Grace’s orders to the Sarathians and to ensure that they had not gone rogue.

Captain Dax Rusuk*, senior-most captain of the order of Victorious Dragons in Corlean and currently the officer in charge, counted to ten in dwarfish before he allowed himself to reply.  Standing in The Square, surrounded by the bustle of the soldiers and the guards, he should have been directing the next assault on the Cathedral (and wasn’t that sentence full of irony); not dealing with a jumped up little weasel of a merchant.

The senior captain, already a good six inches taller than Ker Merith stood a little straighter, all put pushing his dented and dirtied armor into the merchant’s face.  “If you’re through I have a Cathedral to take.”  His brown eyes were hard as he spoke.  He was deliberately trying to intimidate the little man and he was past the point of caring whether or not he should.

“Do NOT ignore me, Captain!”  Ker Merith’s voice was almost shrill.  The head of his family’s trading concerns in Corlean, Quentin Merith had gained very little respect in a city dedicated to its soldiers.  “These adventurers are to be captured at once.  This is a direct order from His Grace.  The matter of the Cathedral will take care of itself.”

Captain Rusuk stared dumbfoundedly at the merchant.  His Grace would never have said that no matter the rumors of conspiracy.  Crown’s Vigil was the heart of the city and would not, could not, be left in unknown hands.  “The cathedral has been violated…” He started.

“Yes, yes.  I heard from your more excitable soliders.  Surely you were not taken in by some Library-made apparition?”  Ker Merith was all but sneering again.  “Angels?”  He snorted.  “The adventurers almost certainly conjured up the images, one of them _is_ a wizard.”  He shook his head.  “According to Ker Aruk’s sources the orgin of all this madness is these mercenary adventurers and it is your duty to capture them.  His Grace agrees with Ker Aruk.  Things will sort themselves out after that.”

With that last sentence everything clicked into place for senior-Captain Dax Rusuk.  Ker Aruk was the Duke’s newest advisor and rumors said he was gathering a coterie of syncophants (or advisors of prominent influence if you asked them).  With a growing sense of dread Captain Rusuk wondered just what kind of influence the Duke’s newest and closest advisor really had.  He then wondered if he might be going mad.  Colonel Megara in jail, a Tresh-born presence in Crown’s Vigil, and now His Grace giving orders that made no sense.  Then he remembered the visitation of the guardian angels that had brought the survivors out of the Cathedral.

Looking into the eyes of the conniving and venal merchant before him, Captain Rusuk chose his words carefully.  “Very well, Ker Merith.  If we are able to capture the mercenary adventurers we will bring them straight to…you?”

Ker Merith frowned and studied the older-looking soldier in front of him.  There was no duplicity but the man was leaving something unsaid.  “That would be right, Captain.  Your cooperation in this matter is appreciated.”

“Then we’ll be about things then.  I expect to be in the Cathedral within the next hour.”

“What…!”  Sputtered the merchant.

“The mercenaries are almost certainly in there so we’ll have to capture them once we’re sure we’ve cut off all avenues of escape.”

“In the cathedral!?”  Ker Merith was suspicious but he was starting to see where the captain was leading him.

“Yes, in the cathedral.  The angels…the apparitions rather, said they were in there.  Even if that was not true we have had a few people escape that have also described them as inside.”

Ker Merith hesitated.  He wasn’t sure how Ker Aurk would like this but he had his orders.  The Sarathians were to capture the mercenary adventurers at all costs.  Quentin knew better then to fail Aruk, and the Duke’s advisor hadn’t explicitly said that the cathedral was off-limits, just that it shouldn’t be the focus for the Sarathians.

“Very well, Captain.  Proceed.  Find these mercenaries at all costs.”

“I can assure you, I have every intention of finding them Ker Merith.”  The captain managed to keep the grim humor out of his voice.  “In the meanwhile, would you like to wait in Sword House?  Or would rather join us?”

“I’ll wait in the Colonel’s office.”

Captain Rusuk paused a moment then nodded again.  “Very well, though I would caution you against looking through her effects.  It’s standard for an officer to ward official communications with powerful and possibly deadly wards.”

The look on Merith’s face was worth it thought Rusuk as he turned and walked away.

---
*_Some of my notes indicate that Major Rusuk was actually the senior captain, not a major as I remembered.  I’ve updated previous posts to reflect this._


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## Bringslite

Just finished the thread. Great work! Very engrossing. Can't wait to read more.


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## Seravin

Bringslite said:
			
		

> Just finished the thread. Great work! Very engrossing. Can't wait to read more.




Thank you, and welcome to the boards!  I'm glad it was engrossing enough to encourage you to post your thoughts.  I'll try to not disappoint.

I'm still working on the next post and hopefully will be able to put it up sometime next weekend.
Life is starting to slow down to a more normal pace and I'm hoping to spend more time on the SH in the coming weeks.


----------



## Joshua Randall

BUMP, in honor of Mark Hope's thread about _Night Below_.


----------



## Seravin

Joshua Randall said:
			
		

> BUMP, in honor of Mark Hope's thread about _Night Below_.




Thanks.  It was nice to see the praise in that thread.


----------



## Seravin

*Once More into the Fray*

_The light snow had stopped earlier that morning and a bright patch of clouds announced that the sun was nearly overhead, trying to burn its way through to shine upon the city below.  It seemed as if the gods themselves smiled upon the freeing of Latina’s cathedral.  Senior Captain Dax Rusuk decided to take it as an omen that he was doing the right thing.

Barely a half-candle ago Captain Jared and his friends had arrived in the glory of the guardian angels.  In the halo of glory the younger captain had explained that the sources of evil in the temple had been eradicated and the relics safeguarded.  There were still beguiled captives roaming the grounds in the company of the dead however and the young captain intended to go back and free them if possible.  

Senior Captain Rusuk considered for only a moment before acquiescing.  He was prepared to take Captain Jared’s words of honor over the conniving words of the weasel Merith.  There would be a price to pay for that later, but Dax Rusuk was prepared to pay it if necessary.  He sent the adventuring captain back with his blessings and a few scrolls of healing and dispelling.  He also advised Jared that the Latinan High Priestess, Kerress Raptoran had been arrested the night the cathedral had gone up in flames.  They had all grimaced at that but did not seem too surprised.  Instead they had taken off as quickly as the scroll could be delivered to them, in the company of a young Latinan acolyte who wanted a chance to help cleanse his temple.

That was a half-candle ago.  A few moments later, a bright pinpoint of light appeared and exploded into a halo of glory announcing the heroes return._

---

_Sword House Grounds_
Senior Captain Dax Rusuk watched with a touch of awe as Captain Jared thanked the angelic guardians for their service to Corlean, the church, and the Empire.  The eagle-headed angels nodded their acceptance and then saluted the mortals before them as they disappeared in a kaliediscope of light.

Human and half-elf stared at the fading motes of light that floated gently to the ground like new fallen snow for a moment.  It was Jared who broke free of the reverie first and got down to the business at hand.

“Thank you for your help, Jack.”  He said to the young acolyte who had helped them clear the cathedral grounds.  You did a good job.”

The acolyte, Jack Ellis, still in the bloodied and stain robes he had worn since the fall of Crown’s Vigil, stood a little straighter.  Some of the walking dead he had faced this morning had been friends only two days ago, his high priestess was under arrest, and what little he had gleaned from the strangers indicated that the Duke himself was enscorceled.  By any measure Jack Ellis had lived a nightmare.

The nightmare was now over.  The invaders had been put to flight, the bodies of his slain friends had been put to rest, and these heroes (for there was no other word) were intent on righting the grievous wrongs done to his priestess and liege lord.  Jack Ellis resolved himself once again to the Defender and vowed to always remember the example these four exemplars provided.  

Kellron cocked his head slightly at the acolyte.  Therer was a familiar fire in the young man’s gaze and he smiled as he recognized a kindred soul*.  “You better check on the other survivors.”  He prodded gently.  “A familiar presence should help them recover faster.”

Jack nodded agreement.  “Thank you from me for letting me help.  Thanks from my church for your success.”  With that the acolyte shook each of their hands before hurrying off.

The senior captain was now alone with the four most wanted people in the city.  It seemed like a good place to start.  “I have to echo what the acolyte said.  Thank you from all of us.  You did good work and I appreciate it.  I also know that the Colonel would appreciate it.  You need to know that I have orders to arrest you though and I’m unsure how to resolve this.”

Kestral waved a hand in dismissal.  “Oh.  That.  We know.  Can you give us a head start?”  She asked somewhat mischievously.

Rusuk’s grimace quirked into a small smile.  “I’m not sure I can.  The Duke’s representative is in the Colonel’s office.  He’s bound to get bored and come out and hear the good new from someone.  

Kestral’s bright blue eyes lit  up.  “Reeaaally?”  She drawled.  “Who’s the representative.”

Rusuk grimaced.  “Ker Quentin Merith is here on behalf of the Duke.”

Kestral’s impish smile grew with delight.  “Wonderful.  I’ll go talk to him.”  She told the gaping captain. 

As Kestral made her way to the Colonel’s office, Jallarzi patted the captain’s shoulder.  “Don’t worry. “  Consoled the half-elf.  “He won’t know what happened.”

---
_*Every time you save a cathedral, a paladin gains his aura. The characters needed some good news and both Jared and Kellron’s players were pleased that they had inspired someone with their good works._


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## Torgal

*Is this the end?*

I really hope that this isn't the last of this story hour. I was truly enjoying reading it. You have an excellent writing style which helps put life into the characters. It was an excellent diversion from work and I hope there is more in the future but if not then thanks for the story so far and best of luck.

Torgal


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## Seravin

Torgal said:
			
		

> I really hope that this isn't the last of this story hour. I was truly enjoying reading it. You have an excellent writing style which helps put life into the characters. It was an excellent diversion from work and I hope there is more in the future but if not then thanks for the story so far and best of luck.
> 
> Torgal




Thank you very much.
Nope, it's not the end.  Shortly after the last post I hit a creative wall and then the work piled on again.  A week ago however I started to go through my notes and organize them a bit more and I think I'm ready to put the pen to paper again.
I'm hoping to start posting again in the next couple weeks.  

Thanks for the encouragement and kind words.


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## Joshua Randall

Yay! That's good news.


----------



## Seravin

*Misdirected Expectations*

There are events that no good person wants to see happen, yet when confronted by them these same people find that they are unable to look away.  As a battle-tested veteran of a handful of fights Senior Captain Rusuk knew this.  Further, the Captain knew that he was about to see another such event again as he watched the young Keress Thendry make her way to the only man in the entire building that was plotting the downfall of them all.  

The only thing that stayed the Captain’s shout to stop her was the sorceress’ hand on his shoulder and the quiet confidence of both Kellron and Jared.  These three sober and competent people were giving the slight young woman their full confidence; for all that she was young enough to be his daughter and despite her reputation in the church as a pickpocket (albeit a likeable one).

He watched Kestral cross to the opposite wall of the sanctuary and then followed her path to the doors that led to the colonel’s office.  Rusuk had to admit the woman walked with a grace that few trained warriors could match as she passed behind one of the many pillars in the sanctuary.  Rusuk allowed to himself that she might be able to hold her own against Merith if the man got violent.  Reflexively suppressing a snarl at the thought of the merchant’s name, Rusuk flicked his eyes to the door Kestral was heading to and then back to where he last saw Kestral.  

She wasn’t there.  Frowning, Rusuk scanned up and down the far wall but there was no sign of the woman.  The only person there was a dark-haired acolyte marching purposely to the offices.

“Where…?”  Murmured the captain, wondering which pillar Kestral had paused behind.  He had last seen her at that one over there, he mused.

Keress Jallarzi made a soft noise and it took Rusuk a moment to determine that the young sorceress was suppressing laughter.

Not trusting her voice, Jallarzi waved her hand at the young solider woman that the good captain had so obviously dismissed.

Rusuk’s eyes snapped back to the acolyte and stared.  It couldn’t be.  The young Kestral was all of five feet high in her boots and her long, straight hair was a light brown (though in the past he knew it had been blonde – during the “incident”).  Only a few moments ago she had been wearing serviceable, if blood-stained, traveling garb.

The acolyte was not the same woman.  Her black hair was cropped short, though longer than regulation usually permitted.  She wore a fresh white and blue tabard over her leather armor, and the captain frowned as he realized it looked as if it had been tailored. 

Rusuk wondered how Jallarzi had invoked the illusion.  He hadn’t seen or heard her cast a spell, but she obviously had.  That acolyte wasn’t one of his soldiers.  With an open mind he could still see Kestral’s grace shine through the soldier’s march as she disappeared through the door that led to the offices.

“See? I told you; he won’t know what hit him.”  Said Jallarzi, smugly.

---

The confident knock at the door made Ker Quentin Merith look up from the papers on Colonel Megara’s desk with a frown.  The merchant was aware of just how little respect he was given here and had used it to be shuffled off to the good colonel’s office.  He hadn’t expected to be bothered in the meantime.  For a moment Mereith wondered if Captain Rusuk actually had captured the mercenaries.  

Quentin shook his head and frowned as he touched the amulet hidden under his shirt.  No.  The captain hadn’t had enough time and his own watchers would have warned him.

“Enter!”  He called out, wondering whether he was about to be presented with a problem or an opportunity.

There was a brief pause and then the heavy wooden door swung open quietly.  Standing in the doorway was a young woman of medium height with short dark hair; wearing the same fighting leathers and the simple white and blue tabard that every other soldier in the building wore.  However the calculating look in the woman’s dark eyes was quite unlike the other soldiers.

_Opportunity_  Thought Quentin with satisfaction.  _Perhaps many opportunities._ continued that same thought as he took in the soft curves under the leather armor and the woman’s friendly smile.

“Excuse me mi’lord.”  Began the woman.  “Are you the one representing the Duke?”

Quentin stood and waved generously to one of the colonel’s visiting chairs.  “That I am.  Why don’t you take a seat…”  He trailed off waiting for her to introduce herself.”

“Private Claudia, mi’lord.”  

Quentin smiled and nodded and waited for her to take her seat, and then sat himself.  “A pleasure to meet you Claudia.”  Answered the merchant as he was sitting.  “I am Ker Quentin Merith of the Merith trading house.”  He favored the young woman with all his charm.  “While we’re in private though please call me Quentin.  No sense standing on ceremony, is there?”

The woman’s head nodded in a charmingly tentative way, apparently disarmed by his generosity.  “Thank you mi…Quentin.”  She said.

The merchant nodded encouragingly.  “Now, what can I do for you?”  He asked pleasantly.  

The woman took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for confession.  Quentin wasn’t blind to what it did for the woman’s figure.

“It’s the captain here.”  She began.  “He’s going to let the people you’re looking for go.”

Quentin favored her with a long look, wondering what she was up to.  He came to three conclusions.  The woman was pretending to an innocence that she didn’t possess; she was doing so in order to manipulate him, and he found it both charming and useful.

“Are you sure?”  He asked, allowing a bit of anger to show through.

Claudia nodded earnestly.  “Yes mi…Quentin.  I overheard him talking with some people.”

Quentin leaned back, wondering if what the woman said was true.  It was entirely possible and he wouldn’t put it past the captain.  He almost hoped it _was_ true so that he could have the pleasure of seeing the captain hang.

After a long moment he finally asked “Why are you telling me this?”

Claudia had the grace to look embarrassed for a brief moment before looking Quentin in the eyes.  “I don’t want to be a soldier all my life.”  She said ferverently.  “As an orphan I didn’t get many opportunities but I’m making the most of what I have.”  She shrugged.  “Besides, I’m not fond of someone who tells me I should follow orders but breaks them himself.”

Quentin nodded with a sympathetic look.  “I can appreciate that.  These temples have gotten too full of themselves lately and I don’t mind telling you that the Duke is mightily disappointed in their leadership these days.”

“I’m willing to help however I can.”  Said Claudia quite earnestly while leaning forward a bit.  “I want to do what’s best for the Duke.”

_Sure you are._  Thought Quentin cynically.  Still, he sensed he could trust the woman as long as she understood that he could help her.

He leaned forward himself, putting his arms on the desk and clasping his hands together.  “Let’s say I believe you.”  He said.  “However, you’re a low-ranking soldier and I don’t doubt that the captain can find someone else to say that you’re a troublemaker.”

Fear crossed the woman’s face, but it was quickly schooled.  

“Just so.”  Said Quentin, letting her know that he understood her situation.  “As I said the Duke is displeased with the temple leadership as of late and has turned to new advisors.  You may have heard that his Grace listens to the wise counsel of Ker Aruk.  He’s an insightful man from up north that had been advising Baron Roth.  Now that the good baron is marrying the Duke’s daughter, Ker Aruk is advising his Grace.

Quentin saw that he had the ambitious young soldier’s full attention.  That pleased him.

“Being new to the city, Ker Aruk has gathered a number of advisors of his own.”  He paused meaningfully, “including myself.”  He added.

Quentin saw the young woman putting the sentences together and she looked at him with even greater respect (and was that a touch of avarice perhaps?).

“Ker Aruk is still looking for bright, capable people.”  Continued Merith.  “The corruption and hypocrisy that infects the temples are not limited to them, and with the current troubles Ker Aruk needs all the reliable people he can find.  I can further add that Ker Aruk rewards both loyalty and capability.  Do you think you might  be one of these people?”  Asked Quentin.

Claudia rocked back into her chair, obviously considering what Quentin had just told her.  “What about his Grace?  She asked.  “He’s letting Ker Aruk gather private followers in the city?”

It was a good question.  “Certainly.”  Quentin assured her.  “His Grace is getting on in years and won’t be around forever.  He’s planning for the future by seeing to his daughter’s marriage to a capable leader and making sure the city benefits from the best advice.  It’s a good arrangement for all.”

“I see.”  She said and then she smiled radiantly as she leaned forward again.  “I think I’m just the person you’re looking for.  What can I do to convince you and Ker Aruk of that?”

Quentin decided her smile was a dangerous weapon.  He wanted to trust her.  “Capable and loyal service.”  He answered her.  “Success brings the rewards, both monetary and otherwise.”

Claudia’s smile seemed to grow wider, if that was possible.  “You’ll find that I _am_ that person.”  She assured him.  “But…”  She trailed off and her smile disappeared.

_Here it comes._  Thought Quentin.  “But…?”  He asked, taking the bait.

“You’ll need to assure yourself of my loyalty.”  She said, gesturing towards the door.  “There’s magic out there.  The Latinan temple had that pillar of flame, the mercenaries you’re looking for are capable of disappearing, and who knows what else that isn’t in the rumors.”

Merith reappraised the young soldier.  “That’s pretty perceptive of you.”  He finally said.

Claudia shrugged.  “You wanted somebody bright.  I told you I am that person.”  She paused.  “I’m willing to be interviewed by Ker Aruk or a truth-teller of your choice.”  She offered.

“You mean you’re willing to meet one of the most powerful men in the city.”  Quentin said flatly.

A cheerful grin crossed Claudia’s face.  “Certainly.  I’ve heard things today and I’m willing to pass them on, but it’s also worth my neck for selling out my superiors here.  I want to make sure there’s a position outside of the temple for me.”  Claudia saw the frown cross Quntin’s face.  “I do want to work with you.”  She assured him.  “I can benefit from your experience and leadership, but I also want some independence.  She gestured to her armor.  “I’ve had enough of discipline and order.”

Quentin nodded slowly, thinking it over.  Claudia had finally revealed her true self and he was still trying to come to grips with it.  He decided he liked the real Claudia.  She really did seem to be as bright as she claimed.  She would make a better assistant than any of the fools currently working for him.

“I think I can work with you.”  He said out out loud.  “I have some arrangements to make and I’ll contact you tomorrow.”  He paused a moment.  “Would you be available for lunch tomorrow?

“I don’t know.  With the trouble and all…”

Quentin grimaced and waved her objection away.  “I’ll make it an order.  Don’t worry, you’ll be released.  Expect to have lunch with me at the Crown’s Table tomorrow at noon.”

Claudia’s eyes widened a bit, obviously impressed.  The Crown’s Table was famous for its food.  The Duke himself was said to dine there on occasion.

Quentin stood and waited for Claudia to stand before speaking.  “I appreciate you taking your concerns to me, Claudia.”  He said, taking her by the arm and escorting her to the door.  “I think you’ll find that working with me will be everything you were looking for.”

Claudia brought her hand up to touch Quentin’s hand on her arm.  “Thank you Quentin, I am sure it will be.”  She demurred.  Before he could respond, her hand gracefully sought out the door and she pulled herself away from him.  “Thank you for seeing me.  I look forward to lunch tomorrow.”

Ker Quentin Merith bowed low, pleased with himself.  Things were going well.

---

_Ker Merith left Sword House in a huff shortly thereafter, not even bothering to seek out Senior Captain Rusuk. Instead the merchant summoned a carriage and made his way immediately to his Grace’s estate.  He never found out that the three people he was looking for had been less than a hundred feet away and had watched him leave._


----------



## AsEver

That episode is one of my favorite scenes while playing Kestral. I got to betray the party, everyone knew it, and they were all rooting for me.


----------



## Joshua Randall

AsEver said:
			
		

> That episode is one of my favorite scenes while playing Kestral.



As it should be. That was fantastic in its boldness.







> I got to betray the party, everyone knew it, and they were all rooting for me.



Suuuuure you did.... I'm picturing Quentin Merith as Robert Shaw's character in _The Sting_ right about now.


----------



## Seravin

Joshua Randall said:
			
		

> As it should be. That was fantastic in its boldness.Suuuuure you did.... I'm picturing Quentin Merith as Robert Shaw's character in _The Sting_ right about now.




Heh.  She gets bolder.  This part of the session she had been operating solo with the players observing.  
In an intrigue-based game it's a good sign when the players starting using Commune to check on the loyalty of other characters.  Of course that's just my opinion.   

That should be two posts from now; of which I'm working on the next one.  Hopefully to be ready this weekend.


----------



## Seravin

*An Evening at the Deverex Household*

_A woman of fire and passion.  That’s how Imych described his young half-elven lover.  The bard would have taken consolation that his death had hurt the young woman but would not have been at all surprised that she had forgiven her father for it.  Her mercurial nature is what had first attracted him to her.  Little did he know that both traits were common throughout her family line back to the elfin woman that she occasionally (if inaccurately) called Grandmother. 

In fact Jaylissa shared several traits with her remote elven ancestor; including long, rich red hair, hard, grass green eyes, natural grace, and a ruthless pragmatism broken only by a mercurial temper.  Jaylissa didn’t know it but she had been bred to her job.  She was good at it because her Grandmother left as little as possible to chance in what was ultimately a family enterprise.

It was just as well, for Jaylissa was learning under fire.  Her father kidnapped, perhaps dead, her organization still recovering from a catastrophic raid, and a city being slowly dismembered from the inside.  Or as she later referred to it, a time of opportunity._

---

Jallarzi, Jared, and Kellron were in the Jaylissa’s sitting room with the young kerress and Lore, her sorcerous advisor. The three heroes had related (in part) the day’s events, from the infiltration and cleansing of the Cathedral to Kestral’s confrontation with Quentin Merith.

“She’s still at Sword House.”  Added Kellron.  “In case Merith shows up or thinks to check up on her.”

“Hmmm.”  Jaylissa thought for a moment while her slender hands toyed idly with her wine glass.  “I know him.  He’s a rat-faced weasel of a man."  She wrinkled her nose.  “He wants power and respect so much that no right-thinking person will give him either.”

She paused before continuing.  “I’ve heard of Baron Roth’s upcoming marriage and father mentioned Aruk in passing a couple times, but I don’t know anything specific.  I can get more information on both of them tomorrow though.”

“Thank you.”  Said Jallarzi with a small smile.  “We have another favor to ask though.”  She paused to make sure that Jaylissa was receptive and then continued.  “Kestral might be meeting with Aruk tomorrow at the Crown’s Table.  Would it be possible to somehow observe it while hidden?”

Jaylissa thought for a moment then nodded.  “There’s a private room that isn’t so private there.  I can arrange you to get the room next to it if it doesn’t happen too early."

_They continued chatting for awhile until Jaylissa declared she had to make the arrangements for their room at the Crown’s Table._

---

Comfortably seated, Shalzerith closed his steel-grey eyes for a moment and centered himself.  It was almost as if he were nervous.  A faint smile played across the archmage’s lips at the thought.  He had bargained with things from the hells themselves and had plumbed realms of twisting madness.  This next task was trivial in comparison.

There was a rustle of satin and then the seductive voice of a woman broke through his calming reverie.  “Really, Shalzerith, you have more important things to worry about.  Leave this distraction be."

The elderly mage held his breath a moment more and then let it go with the slightest of sighs.  “I would think you would aid my goals.  You are the last one I’d expect to tell me to pass temptation by.”

There was another rustle followed by the sound of bare feet padding across the cold tile.  The familiar warmth and weight of a woman’s arms draped over his shoulders from behind.  Sweet, warm air breathed across his ear.  “There’s the good kind of temptation that encourages you.” Whispered the woman with a playful nip on the same ear, causing the wizard to shiver.  

The woman pushed herself away suddenly.  “And then there’s temptation that serves no purpose and distracts you from your work.”  He heard her pad around his chair and took her seat again next to him at his dining table.

Shalzerith grimaced.  He was only human and she knew exactly what he liked.  She was in one of ‘those’ moods.  Opening his eyes he looked at the woman.  Dressed in a loose, dark-blue satin robe that hung open loosely.  Luxurious, long white hair framed her delicate, exotic face.  Piercing blue eyes, so dark they were almost purple, met his own with a confidence that matched his own.  

He raised an eyebrow, surprised.  “That’s not your usual form.”  He observed, noting his own reaction almost clinically. 

The woman shrugged carelessly.  “A reminder only; if you need a distraction, I can serve.”  

Shalzerith snorted with humor.  “I don’t’ think I can imagine you serving.”  He commented.

“Neither will she.”

“I don’t want her too.”  He said mildly.  “For that matter, I don’t want you wearing Jallarzi’s form right now.”  He smiled mirthlessly.  “That would be a bad distraction.”

The woman held his gaze for a moment and then nodded.  “Very well.”  The air around the woman blurred briefly and when it cleared her form had changed.  Still dressed in her half-open robe, she was now taller with darker skin, long, honey-blonde hair and pale blue eyes.  “Let me know how it goes.”  She said, standing.  With a formal bow she excused herself and walked out of the room.

Shalzerith watched her walk out.  Aazijosh was a magnificent creature.  She was willing to fulfill his every desire; for a price.  Shalzerith focused himself on that price.  No, Aazijosh was completely unsuitable as a companion, as diverting as he found her.

Jallarzi was the companion he was seeking.  A woman of beauty and power whose ambition was met by her intelligence.  Better, she was still young enough to need a mentor and a guide, someone she could learn to trust.

He made a note to thank Aazijosh for helping firm up his resolution.  Standing, he reached for the scroll case sitting to the side and made his way to his workroom.  Tonight he would take the first step.

---

Jallarzi was given a private room in the south wing of the Deverex household.  Kellron and Jared were in adjoining rooms across the hall.  The young woman was in bed spending her time studying, as she so often did, looking over the spells she intended to prepare in the morning as well as jotting down some additional notes on a spell of prismatic energy she was rersearching.

Jallarzi noticed the scrying sphere almost as soon as it appeared.  The scrying spheres were not quite a daily occurrence, but had happened often enough that Jallarzi snarled in irritation.  With a flick of her wrist she targeted a _dispel magic_ at the spell.  Somewhat surprisingly the orb disappeared.  Not so predictably, a few seconds later Jallarzi was contacted by a _sending_.

_<"Journey-wizard Jallarzi, it is I, Shalzerith.  It is urgent that I speak with you.  May I teleport to your location?”>_

Jallarzi’s irritation turned to suspicion.  _<”Wait three candle marks so I can get ready.”>_  she replied back on the tail-end of the spell.

Jallarzi looked about to make sure another scyring sphere hadn’t been invoked, then she jumped out of bed to make her way to Jared and Kellron’s room.

---

A muffled _*bampf*_ of displaced air announced an impeccably robed Shalzerith as he appeared in the room.  The silver-haired master wizard looked about the room with a neutral gaze.  _Arcane sight_ laid over his normal vision giving him a double-view of the bedroom.  At first glance, Jallarzi sat alone at the small desk with her white staff of frost at hand whilst the rest of the room was empty.

His enhanced vision showed him that the real Jallarzi sat on the bed, dressed for battle with her staff close at hand.  Her familiar was nowhere to be found, but Shalzerith presumed it was under the bed.  The Sarathian knight, Kellron, stood in the corner, cloaked by invisibility. His weapon was unsheathed but lowered.  The other knight, Jared, was sitting at the desk, disguised as Jallarzi.  It was the last that had caused him to almost start.  The image of Jallarzi super-imposed over the armored knight was incongruous.  

Shalzerith spared the knights a raised eyebrow and then faced Jallarzi.  Bowing low, he spoke.  “Journey-mage Jallarzi, I thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”  His hand swept out to indicate the two warriors.  “I applaud your sense of caution.  It was very clever.”

The half-elf frowned.  She was evidently irritated that he had seen straight through their deception so quickly.  “Just tell me what you needed to Master Shalzerith.”

The archmage sensed he had mis-stepped but wasn’t sure how.  Still, the young wizard had every right to be suspicious.  People _were_ trying to harm her after all.  “I come bearing a warning.”

Jallarzi cocked her head to one side in a fashion that Shalzerith found endearing.  “How so?”  She asked, somewhat more politely.

“It has come to my attention that you have annoyed several powerful people.  They intend to kill you shortly.”

“We know.”  Interrupted the warrior at the desk.  He was evidently irritated at being ignored.  Shalzerith ignored him more.

Jallarzi gazed at the wizard thoughtfully.  “Why tell me?”  She asked.

Giving her an encouraging smile, Shalzerith praised her.  “That’s a very good question and at the root of why I am here.”  Seeing that she was waiting for him to continue, he did so.  “I have recently attained immortality, or at least freedom from the worry of age.  Looking at the prospect of eternity I have decided I need something to keep me occupied.” 

Heartened by her evident interest, the wizard continued.  “I’ve decided that I would like to share my knowledge; pass it on if you will.  You may not know it, but you are an amazing young woman.  In the space of less than a year you have achieved tremendous skill with magic.  I can think of no other member of the Library with your sheer potential and I wish to take you on as an apprentice and train you.  Thus, it's to my benefit to gain your trust by warning you."

He smiled hopefully at the half-elven woman.  She was obviously taken aback but seemed to be seriously considering his offer.  “This is rather sudden.”  She began. 

“But no less earned.”

Jallarzi frowned at the interruption but let it pass.  “I and my friends are currently involved in a task we have to finish.”  She told the wizard.  “I will think it over after this is all finished.”

Shalzerith stiffened.  It wasn’t the answer he had been looking for.  Still, she hadn’t rejected it outright.  “I was hoping to serve the dual-purpose of removing you from danger and passing on my knowledge.”  He told her.  “However, it speaks well of you that you have the dedication to see a difficult task through.”

“Thank you.”  She said curtly.

“If I cannot dissuade you then allow me to provide you some small aid.  A token of my appreciation of your talents.”  So saying, Shalzerith reached into his robe for the scroll case he had brought.  He pulled it out with a flourish and presented it to the younger wizard.  “I believe these are beyond your current abilities and I would normally not give them to someone who wasn’t ready.  Your skill thus far leads me to believe that you will grow into these spells soon enough however.”

Jallarzi slid off the bed and stood to accept the scroll case.  “I thank you for your generosity.”  She said.

Shalzerith smiled at her evident appreciation.  “Think nothing of it, Kerress Jallarzi.  As I said, I believe you will make a worthy apprentice and your are quite ready for these spells.”  With a  bow he stepped back.  “I will take my leave now.”  So saying he spoke a word and gestured, disappearing with another _*bampf*_ of imploding air.

---

After checking the scroll caes for residual spells, Jallarzi opened it up; eagerness warring with caution.  She pulled out two pale white scrolls.  She unrolled the first and gazed over it while her friends watched.  Slowly she set it aside and looked at the second one.  

With a stunned look, the journey-wizard rolled both scrolls up and put them back into their case.

“Well?”  Asked Kellron

“He gave me two spells.”  She said.

“And?”  Asked Jared.

“The first is a _greater planar binding_.  She said.  It made sense, for Shalzerith was noted for his skills in conjuration.

“And the second?”

"_Limited wish_" She said flatly.

---

_Heeding Shalzerith’s warning, and not quite trusting him, the three friends decided to spend the night in the same room.  Jared and Kellron brought the blankets from their room into Jallarzi’s and then decided to split the night into two watches while Jallarzi slept._


----------



## Seravin

*An Interrupted Evening*

_”Don’t tell _me_ about “women’s work”.  Hmph.
The patron of the Shtaran Empire is Latina, the Defender, and while she bears an upraised shield to protect those under her care, she also wields a burning sword.  In the Empire of Shtara, women of breeding are just as likely to be taught the art of the blade as the art of needlepoint.”
-Imperial merchant explaining things to a Southern trader._

The daughter of a businessman, merchant, and crime-lord, Jaylissa Deverex learned the art of the blade at a young age.  Given his pursuits, her father thought it wisdom’s choice to indulge his daughter’s desires on this matter.  Besides, it brought his daughter closer to other young men and women of both blood and means which was an opportunity to be exploited.  Still, Grandal Deverex had never imagined that his daughter would actually need such skills.

---

_keeeeraaaaaaash!_ came the distant sound of breaking glass.
Jaylissa’s bare feet slapped to the floor even as she became aware that she was awake; her knife was already in her hand.  Jaylissa paused a moment and listened and her heart momentarily sank at the sound of fighting on the grounds.  Whoever had taken her father was apparently coming here next.  

The fire-haired young woman took a moment to pull her enchanted vest on over her nightgown while hoping that her new allies would be able to repel whoever was attacking.  _”or at least not be the actual attackers.”_ came a darker thought.

Jaylissa then picked up her sword (a gift from her father) and went to the door.  Pausing for a moment she gathered her courage and opened the door.

Her attackers had been waiting for that.  Two dark-clad men ,wearing the cloaks of the City Watch and with their faces obscured by masks, surged towards her.  “Father Dark sends his regards, woman.”  Snarled the lead attacker, raising his sword.

Jaylissa rose her own sword to parry.  “Intruders!”  She called out, hoping that Lady Hyla would carry her voice to Lore.  With that she pressed the attack, tumbling around her attacker and into the hall, where she would have some hope of escape.

The attackers guessed her intention.  “Your pet sorcerer is busy.  It’s just you and the three of us.”

Too late, Jaylissa realized there were three attackers, and the third one was already invoking a spell.  Three purple missiles leapt from the man’s outstretched hand and struck her full in the back, stinging like mad.  Jaylissa knew she couldn’t take many more of those.

Then hope surged.  There was fighting in the North Hall.  Her allies were awake.  She only had to survive long enough for them to get here.  The spell-caster was beginning his next spell though and the two men closest to her were pressing their advantage.  This was going to be close.

---

_The murmuring voices grew louder, disturbing her sleep.  Vaguely Jaylissa knew something was wrong; something important, but she was so tired.  Then the voice finally grew loud enough to hear._

“…and heal these battle-born wounds.”  The voice belonged to Lieutenant Jared.

Jaylissa sat up quickly and looked around.  “Intruders…”  She started.  The flickering light of a magical pendant showed that she was half-sitting on the floor of the south landing, perhaps twenty feet from her bedroom.  The priest of Sarath was kneeling over here, already drawing his hand back from her heart.  Dark smoke drifted across the floor and there was an acrid smell everywhere.  There had been a fire.

“We know.”  Said the Sarathian cleric with more gentleness then she thought possible.  We stopped them.”  He smiled then.  “We got a prisoner too.”

“Where?”  She nearly snarled.

Jared stood up and offered her his hand.  “Over there.”  He jerked his head over his left shoulder.  Kellron and Jallarzi were kneeling beside three other prone forms.  From the looks of things they were finishing tying up the last one and not being too gentle about it.  Jaylissa felt a small stab of satisfaction over that.

Jallarzi looked up from her efforts.  “We’re just about to wake them up and question them.”  

Jallarzi looked them over.  All three were dressed in the garb of the City Watch, but only two of them wore the familiar studded leather armor.  Jaylissa kicked the unarmored one.  I suggest we question this one.”

“Our thoughts exactly.”  Agreed Kellron as he stood up.  “Lore is securing the grounds and the fire is out.  Why don’t we take this one downstairs where we can be comfortable.”

---

_Erek Tannson was not a brave man; ambitious and charismatic, but ultimately cowardly.  Within a few minutes Kellron, Jallarzi, Jared, and Jallarzi had pried what little the man knew for the bargain price of his freedom.  Erek viewed loyalty as something to be exploited, not given.

Before long, the four questioners discovered that Erek and others were learning sorcery from a man who looked much like Shalzerith (confirmed by an illusion generated by Jallarzi) with aide from strange friendly creatures which had tentacles in place of their mouths.  He and his fellow sorcerers were learning under the guise of the Braenite church that had just come to town, hiding themselves from the discovery by the Library.

Erek had been loaned to Father Dark in return for aid elsewhere.  His mission here tonight was to kill Jaylissa Deverex; he didn’t care why but knew that Treshans were involved and somehow working with Baron Roth.  Erek also added that he was suppose to pin the blame on the party by giving an eye-witness account after the Deverex estate had been burned to the ground.

The prize of the questioning however, and what ultimately earned him his freedom, was the location of Colonel Beka Megara and Defender’s High Priestess, Kerress Raptoran._

---

“The question is, can we believe him?”

“I think so.”  Answered Jaylissa.  “The man wants his freedom badly enough and the City Watch would hang him almost immediately.  He’s telling the truth.”

Kellron looked at Jaylissa appraisingly.  “I don’t particularly like having him go free though.  I promised that man he could walk out of here, I said nothing about not capturing him later.  Do you think one of your people can follow him?”

“Easily.”  Jaylissa didn’t mention that she had been planning that anyway.


----------



## Seravin

I'm not really sure where all the time goes.  For those who are still reading, thank you for your patience.  I'm still writing, it just seems like there's all these conflicting things to do.

This last post marks the end of a very long day for Kellron and crew.  They started out assaulting the Cathedral of Latina, moved on to confronting a corrupted retainer, was visited my Shalzerith, and finally repulsed the attack on the Deverex household.  If I recall, it was two game sessions and the players were feeling pretty good about the successes.

The end game is fast approaching.

For those of you interested, in the main game the players have made their first assault on the stronghold of the masterminds of the entire plot to kidnap the spellcasters.  I expect them to finish up late this summer depending on how vacations and various other things work out.


----------



## Torgal

*I'm still reading!*

Although the time between is not always brief   I'm always poking in for the next installment and reading it with as much enthusiasm as ever. Thanks for the great story!


----------



## Abciximab

Just finished the thread, can't wait for more.


----------



## Joshua Randall

I, too, am still on board.


----------



## Seravin

Oh wow.  Over two months since I checked in.
Thank you very, very much for your patience and the enthusiasm.  I never intended it to go this long.  I took a break between various other things that came up and kept meaning to write, but let myself be distracted. 

Joshua, Torgal, and Abciximab, thank you for your patience.


----------



## Seravin

*Offer and Counteroffer (150th post)*

_Another dawn breaks over the gray city of Corlean.  Tomorrow will be the Winter Solstice and normally the good folk of the city would be hurrying to complete their plans for the ensuing festival.  This year however there will be no festival.  The Duke’s curfew is still in force and the recent events with the church of Latina has caused all preparations to be canceled.  The good residents can only stay at home and pray that the dark events do not herald the coming of darker times.  _

---

Kestral, in the guise of Private Claudia of the Church of Sarath woke with the morning sun, though not by her own choice.  She knew that Kellron and Jared were both serious-minded, hardworking, and disciplined young men.  Until this morning she had thought it was some sort of in-bred characteristic taken to some aberrant extreme.  Now she knew that this was not correct.  It was due to the dark and ugly regimen that the church of Sarath perpetrated upon its’ own recruits.  Only the traveling hardships of the last few months enabled her to endure a typical Sarathian day.

Kestral and the rest of her platoon were allotted what seemed barely enough time to make their beds before they were hustled off to the Square where they and all the other soldiers were put through a grueling exercise routine.  Being slight of frame and not very strong would normally have counted against the young woman, but her magical hat of disguise made her look stronger than she really was and while weak, her endurance was actually greater than most of the other soldiers.  

After that they were again allotted too few minutes to clean up and then attend breakfast.  Kestral tried to explain to the sergeant that she just need a few more moments but he was completely unreasonable in his expectations.  She was sure she could have made  him see that if she could have gotten him to just talk to her for a few moments, but Kestral wasn’t granted that time.

After the morning meal the duty assignments were handed out.  Most of the assignments had the soldiers patrolling the streets, supplementing the city guard, but Kestral was instead assigned to the simpler and quieter guard duty of the main sanctuary.  The other members of her new platoon looked at her in askance as that duty was normally for the older soldiers, but none of them could deny that “Private Claudia” was certainly the most presentable of all the people in the church.  

It was while on duty that Kestral was visited by The Defender’s Inquisitor, Tore Daergan.  Tore was well known about Sword House and her friendly demeanor made most forget that she was responsible for ferreting out falsehoods within and without the church.  The recent events with the Defender’s Cathedral would normally have left the inquisitor in a state of limbo, but she was still technically on assignment to Sword House.

No one paid the inquisitor any mind as she chatted with the latest transferee at the Church of Sarath.  Thus Kestral was brought up to date on the events of the prior evening and told that her friends had plans to be nearby during her dinner, but that they needed her to stall for at least an hour.

---

The Crown’s Table was nearly empty when Private Claudia arrived.  Situated in the north-west quarter, close to the Square, the restaurant was a largeish two-story building noted for both its’ food as well as for its’ private dining rooms where the rich conducted private business.  So close to Solstice the restaurant would normally be busy, however today Private Claudia saw only a few people in the common room and none of them looked particularly happy.  

The young maitre d’ at the door looked her over once, started to say something, and then stopped himself.  A few weeks ago he would have said something snide to the young soldier, but this was now and things were grim.  Besides, Ker Merith had been quite explicit in the description of his guest.  The waiter shrugged once and then led the young looking soldier upstairs to the Sword Room, a private dining room with all the amenities.  The manager had insisted that Ker Merith and his guests take it at a surprising discount.  The manager had also let them know that no request would be turned down.

The maitre d’ knocked twice at the double door and waited for the command to enter before opening the door.  He stepped forward and bowed to Ker Merith and his guest.  “Sirs, the young woman from Sword House is here to see you.”  The dining table was a large round affair capable of seating six quite comfortably; though only three places were set today.  Quentin Merith was seated facing the double doors while his guest was seated to his left and the empty space was set to his right.  

Quentin smiled, enjoying the sense of prestige he was being afforded.  “Of course; send her in.”  He commanded, standing as Private Claudia stepped tentatively across the threshold.  “Come in, my dear.”  He said, waving her further into the room.  All was quiet while the maitre d’ seated the soldier at the table and then poured everyone a glass of wine from the decanter already at the table.  Bowing, the Maitre d’ then left them alone, closing the door behind him.

It was then that Claudia noted that the only way out of the room was through the now closed double doors.  No other doors or windows were apparent, though there were some magnificent paintings on the walls.  

It was with a supreme act of will that Claudia did not react when she realized she heard a familiar but muffled voice of a woman chanting in the room next door.  Instead she continued looking around the room.  Fortunately Quentin didn’t seem to hear it at all; but from subtle reactions it seemed as if Aruk did.

Quentin looked over the young woman appreciatively as she looked about the room and then glanced to the man to his right.  "Ker Aruk, this is Private Claudia of Sarathian temple.  Private Claudia, this is Ker Aruk, recently from the North but now of his Grace’s court.”  Ker Aruk nodded and Claudia managed a graceful looking bow from her chair.  

Aware that Ker Aruk was observing her, Claudia smiled; she knew what he saw and had little fear that he could he see past the illusion.  Instead she returned his frank appraisal and wondered that this was the architect of the city’s woes. 

Tall and broad shouldered, Aruk filled the room with his presence.  It was only after a moment of looking that a person realized that Aruk was perhaps in his fifth decade and that his dark hair was streaked with gray.  Aruk’s black eyes glittered with intelligence though and Claudia suspected that he missed little; she would have to watch which truths she spoke today.  Aruk was dressed in a fine silk shirt and black pants.  Rings adorned the man’s fingers and her keen eyes spotted two necklaces hidden under his shirt.  A dark gray cloak was thrown carelessly over the chair next to him and Claudia made out several interesting bulges.  Aruk was obviously a leader and just as obviously liked the finer things in life.

Claudia waited for Aurk’s appraisal to end in what she hoped was an appropriately demure manner.  Finally he spoke.  “Quentin tells me that you hope to ally yourself with his Grace’s court.”

Claudia nodded.  “Yes Ker Aruk.  As I told Ker Merith, I have no desire to be a soldier any longer than necessary.  I understand that I’m not suited for the role.”  Claudia knew that there was no need to present any falsehoods there.  She smiled in what she hoped was a cynical manner.  “My needs are more…material, shall we say.”  She gestured towards the table.  “I like the finer things in life and I find that the temple has too many restrictions.”

Aruk, magically sensitive, detected no lie on the woman and allowed himself to return her smile.  “I think you’ll find serving his Grace can be quite rewarding.  These are hard times though; I trust you have no problem getting your hands dirty if the job requires it?  His Grace may order that someone…simply disappear; for the greater good of course.”

Claudia leaned back a moment and appeared to consider it.  Finally she spoke.  “I absolutely don’t have a problem with it.  Some people should just disappear.  It would make things run smoother.”

“Excellent.  It appears that we have a basis for negotiation then.”

“That makes me very happy Ker Aruk.”  The young soldier paused a moment and then looked imploringly at the table.  “Can I ask a small favor before we start though?”

Aruk considered and then nodded.

“Can we eat first and talk of inconsequentials?  This is the finest table I have sat at since I’ve been a soldier and if you for some reason find me unsuitable I would at least like the memory of the meal.”

Aurk laughed at that.  “Certainly, my young woman; eat your fill.  You should certainly have a taste of the rewards I can offer.  Let us eat for a bit and we will discuss our expectations after the meal.”

_The three ate heartily on the Crown’s Table excellent fare.  It was a simple three course meal with cheeses and dried fruits, followed by a hearty beef soup, and completed with tender slabs of ham served on a bed of rice.  All the while they talked of inconsequentials such as the weather and upcoming seasonal events.  Interspersed throughout the conversation however were more subtle questions and answers, each person testing the other.*  Eventually the meal was over however and the three of them sat back with mugs of honey-laced tea. _

---

Chanting as quietly as possible, Jallarzi manipulated the rune covered ivory tiles on the small stand in front of her.  The smoke from the burning incense danced and weaved about her.  She had been chanting for almost a full candle-length, staring through the transparent section of the wall at Aruk.  The painting that normally covered this one-way transparent section was sitting on the floor off to the side.  Behind her, Kellron and Jared waited at the ready in case something got out of hand.

Jallarzi stopped chanting and inhaled suddenly as if in surprise.  The incense which had been slowly twirling about her also stopped and then began to stream into her eyes, hiding their violet color.  Then the haze of incense just as quickly disappeared and Jallarzi spoke in a voice not quite her own.

_“High Priest of the Dark Emperor, steeped in blackness with eyes upon the Throne.  Aruk weaves a web about Corlean.  One thread on the throne, another in the shadows of the Blue Diamond, and a final thread to the Night Below.”_

Jallarzi grabbed the table for balance and looked about.  “The Night Below are our illithid kidnappers I think.  The Blue Diamond would be Quereth Holtson.  The Dark Emperor would be…?”

“Tresh.”  Snarled Jared.

---

Quentin Merith was feeling very happy with the way things were unfolding.  Claudia had made quite an impression on Ker Aruk.  She was eager to please, insightful, and properly polite.  She was quite a find.  He was thus quite startled at the direction the conversation took.

“I trust that you enjoyed your meal?” Aruk asked graciously.

“I did, thank you Ker Aruk.”

“Then we might as well start our negotiations.”  He leaned back casually and dropped his hands below the table.  When he brought them back up Claudia saw that Aruk’s right hand now bore a black metal gauntlet.  Aruk nodded at her surprise.  

“In the interest of keeping this on track I’ll say that I know your real name is not Claudia, that you are not a solider, and that I think you have allied yourself with people that are enemies of mine.”

He smiled at the fleeting look of concern on the woman’s face.  “The only reason I considered meeting with you after learning all of this was that I think you might be persuaded to truly work for me.  Are all of these things true?”**

Kestral inhaled and then nodded slowly.  “For the right price.”  She allowed.

Aruk gazed at her and then smiled.  “Then let us discuss price.  What would it take for you to work for me and abandon your current allies?”

Kestral was silent for only a few seconds, considering her options.  “I could do it for two-million gold lions or the equivalent.”  She told him.

Quentin Merith’s jaw dropped at the princely sum, nevermind his surprise at the turn of events.

Aruk snorted.  “Be serious.  No one has that kind of coin on hand.”

Kestral held his gaze levelly.  “I’m completely serious.  We recovered several items worth collectively several hundred thousand lions on our last excursion.  We plan several more excursions going forward; and I need every golden piece.”

“Why?”

“That’s my business and doesn’t affect you; but if you want my services, that’s my price.”

“And what makes you think you’re worth two million lions?”

Kestral shrugged.  “I made it here and got an audience with you?  I have powerful friends that trust me?”

Aruk stood.  “I know your friends are next door and are done with their castings.  I care not what they think they learned.  Know that this city is effectively mine and that there is no room in it for enemies.  When you’re ready to talk a more rational price for your services, contact Merith and be sure that bring something that’s worth what you’re asking.” 

Quentin Merith hastily stood after Aruk did, gaping at both of them.  

Aruk dismissed Kestral with a glance and stepped towards Quentin, sweeping up his cloak as he did so.  “Quentin, you’re coming with me.  We have some things to discuss.”

Kestral could make out the door to the room next door crashing open and feet coming down the hall.

Before she could say anything else, Aruk grabbed Quentin Merith by the shoulder and spoke a word.  Both men disappeared.  Moments later the door open, revealing Jared, Kellron, and Jallarzi; each ready for battle.

Kestral exhaled.  “Well we now know that he knows that we know and he now knows that we know that he knows.  I don’t think we should stay here very long.”

---

_That evening at Sword House, Jared prayed for revelation before the altar in the private chapel with Captain Rusuk.  It wasn’t long before Captain Jared of the Glorious Dragons found the walls of the temple fading away to reveal a field of battle.  In the distance he could hear the battle horns signaling a rally. The ground was churned up by hooves and feet, but no bodies were laying upon the ground.  They had gotten up to march on to the next battle.

“Welcome Captain.  What do you wish to know?

Jared turned and saluted smartly.  Before him, hovering just a few inches over the torn ground, was a winged angel in mithril breastplate, and wearing a sheathed sword at its’ waist.

“I seek answers that will help us save Corlean.”

“Then ask and I will give which answers that can be known.”

“Is Grandal Deverx still alive?”

“Aye.”

“Does Duke Hilmaron know that there are Treshan’s in the city?”

“No.”

“Does the Duke know that Colonel Megara and Priestess Raptoran are in the hands of enemies of the city?”

“No.”

“Is the Duke controlled or charmed?”

“Aye.”

“Is Aruk the controller?”

“Aye.”  Snarled the angel.

“Is Baron Roth in league with the Treshans?”

“Aye.”

“Does the Duke know of the Baron’s involvement?”

“No.”

“Is the Duke’s daughter also charmed?”

“Aye.”

“Is Shalzerith a Treshan?”

“No.”

“Are there more devils in town?”  

“Aye.”

“Is Kestral still loyal to the party?”

 “I know not.  She is not one of ours.”

Another rallying signal from the far-away horn draws their attention.  “I must go.”  States the angel.  “Continue your good work.”  With that the angel leaps skyward as the battlefield fades away to reveal the chapel once again._

---

_Meanwhile, at a private residence unknown to most, Kestral sits with Jaylissa Deverex_

Jaylissa considers Kestral's words and then considers her father.  “Will this get my father back?”

Kestral shakes her head.  “I don’t know.  We’re not sure what happened, but it’s possible he’s still in town somewhere.  Quereth might know either way.

“Very well, you’ll have all help I can provide.  What do you need me to do?”

“We’re going to go up to his Grace’s palace in the morning and take care of Aruk.  We need someone to rescue Colonel Megara and Priestess Raptoran in case someone tries to kill them out of spite.  We don’t want them used as hostages.

“I see.  Just myself and whoever I can scrape up?”  Asked the half-elf with some scorn.

“No.  Captain Rusuk knows some city guardsmen that aren’t bound by the same oaths as himself, so you’ll have some official muscle; and Jared plans on calling up help similar to what we got when we entered the Cathedral.”

Jaylissa relaxed a bit and then leaned back into her chair.  “If it was just the guardsmen, I would have told you know.  My godfather would have had them killed.  With angels though…”

Kestral smiled.  “I was hoping you would say that.  If you’re in, then we’re all going to meet at this other place not too far from here.”

---

_*There were a couple of diplomacy and sense motive and bluff checks.  Kestral’s player made her’s pretty easily.  Aruk had a good wisdom and sense motive as a class skill, but Kestral was careful not to lie – though I allowed bluff checks to make truthful statements to sound favorable.  

**Aruk had some information sources of his own and I eventually decided that he could cast commune just as easily as the players.  He got enough to know that Claudia=Kestral and that she wasn’t strongly allied to the party (ie: she was neutral) and thus corruptible.  I think Kestral’s answers surprised the party though.

Post Note: Naturally, this is another time that Kestral pulled a good diplomacy roll out of the dice bag.  Aruk knew she was working for his enemies but was possibly corruptible, so he viewed her with some favor.
I'm not sure I would have let him stick around for the legend lore if I had to do this again though.  He recognized the spell for what it was but didn't necessarily know that it was directed at him.  Still it was a chance for the players to confirm their suspicions, so I allowed it for that reason.

The next post should be the rescue of Colonel Megara and Priestess Raptoran. _


----------



## Seravin

*Solstice Preparations*

_I had thought I was going to post the rescue, but this one became larger than I expected.  Probably not a bad thing as I want to get into the swing of more frequent updates again and I can use the practice._

---

In the morning there was a feast the likes of which few Imperial citizens have been granted the grace to attend.  Solstice feasts are not unusual by any means, especially as a way of celebrating the beginning of longer days to come; however this feast _was_ unusual in at least three respects.  The first was that it was a morning meal, with the sun not quite risen over the mountains.  Second, it was attended by only twelve people; all whom were conspiring to commit mayhem after the meal was over.  Finally, this feast was granted by the grace of Sarath, and until touched by the feasters had never been touched by mortal hands.

As befitting a Feast of Sarath* the morning meal was simple, consisting of piping warm bread, sweet fireweed honey, crisp apples and melons that could not have been as fresh as they were, and slabs of rich, succulant ham.  Of the drink, it was neither wine nor water nor milk, or beer, but had aspects of all four.  

Crowded into the small dining room of a private house that Lore had rented, the twelve co-conspirators took their fill of the simple breakfast.  Some of them had expected a quick meal, hasty plans, and a murderous assault.  Instead the meal took almost a full candle to consume as they shared past joys they had almost forgotten and regaled each other of their hard won battle victories.

It was a simple meal, but like all good meals it filled more than their hunger, it filled their souls.  These twelve were from all walks of life and they were about to raise their blades against the lord of the city and the devilish conspirators that held him in thrall.  Victory would not be certain but for now they knew no fear; only confidence that this was the right thing to do.

---

The furniture had been moved up against the walls and most of the conspirators had been asked to wait elsewhere in the house to make room for two more guests.  Curious, the conspirators choose to wait in the hallway as Captain Jared sat quietly in the main room, offering prayers to Sarath, His angels, and His saints.  Kellron and Dax Rusuk (he offered no rank for this mission) watched on and offered their own supporting prayers.

Watching from the hallway it seemed as if a long time passed as they watched the three men offer up prayers and liturgy.  Boredom did not have time to set in however as even the still air seemed to be anticipating something momentous.

Almost without warning, Jared’s prayers ceased and he threw his arms wide.  At that exact moment he was engulfed by a halo of blue and white light.  Jared’s voice thundered through the house.  “General Markon!  I ask for the Intercessor!  What belongs to the Defender and the Defender’s Own has been taken and a battle is required to win them back!”

It was dramatic.  By rights a lightning bolt should have cleaved the air.  That did not happen.  The halo about Jared died away and the electric stillness in the air seemed to drain away.  

Then the angel appeared.

Nine feet tall with skin the color of the sea and no hair to blemish his head, Markon the Intercessor, a General to one of Sarath’s armies, filled the room as if he had always been standing there.  His visage was calm and wise and strong.  Clad in golden armor with a large sword belted to his waist the angel looked about, pulling his feathered wings close about him to give others room.  Those closest to the angel could see that his feet did not touch the floor.

The Intercessor had only rarely been called to stride the earth.  His was normally the role of guidance and tactics for those still living.  Gazing into the souls of all within the house, the Intercessor finally turned to the one had called to him.  

Lieutenant Jared saluted smartly.  “Sir.  I respectfully wish to withhold the briefing until I call upon your sword brother, Arvon of the Celestial Host.”

The Intercessor had experienced surprise before; but it had been centuries since a mortal cleric had surprised him thusly.  Strictly speaking the briefing should be held immediately as the General had other matters to attend to; but strictly speaking the situation was extraordinary.  The angel nodded his assent gravely and stepped aside to make room for his sword brother.

Again, Jared took up his prayers, this time under the watchful eye of the Intercessor who neither aided nor hindered the effort.  Now was not the time.  Shortly, the little house in an out of the way neighborhood of Corlean was graced by the presence of two angelic planetars of Sarath’s celestial host as near alike to each other that they could be twins.

General Markon, Arvon, I ask aide in today’s battles.”  He turned to face the Intercessor.  “General Markon please attend myself, Kellron, Jallarzi, and Kestral.  We plan to go to the Ducal Palace, free the Duke, and kill or drive off the High Priest of Tresh and his allies.  Too many people are charmed however and we wish to keep casualties to a minimum.”

Jared then turned to the other planetar.  “Arvon, Rusuk Dax and his team will attempt to free Priestess Raptoran and our own Colonel Megara.  They are both in the hands of a criminal that has allied himself with the Treshans and the illithid.  We fear that they may be slain out of spite before we can free them and wish your aide in preventing that.”

Jared looked to the angels.  “Will you help?”

There was a long pause and then the angels turned about, their heavy gaze resting upon each person in the household; the simple wood and stone construction no barrier to their sight.  Reaching a silent accord the planetars again faced the priest who had asked for their aide.

It was the Intercessor who spoke.  “Your cause is just and righteous.  Your allies, while of questionable morality, are true to you; however you have dared to summon such might that has not been seen within the Empire for centuries.  Are your tasks worth so much to you?”

Jared nodded.  “They are.  We would sacrifice much to see them accomplished.”

The Intercessor returned the nod.  “Very well; hear then the conditions of our aide.  Our fight is not with, and will not be with, mortals.  We will not raise sword or hand against any mortal within this city; Sarath does not war upon his own.  We will not be seen by any within the city except that we manifest in battle.”  

As the Intercessor fell silent, Arvon began to speak.  “We _will_ raise arms against all creatures not of this world and will render such bolstering help that our skills allow.  If the battle goes ill then we will also aide in escape.”  The angel paused for a moment.  “Are these conditions acceptable?”

Jared grimaced only slightly; he had hoped for more but was glad for any aide.  “It is.”

“Then hear our final condition;” continued Arvon.  “Both of us have duties elsewhere and your callings have hampered our preparations of a coming battle.  We will help you for this day but in return you will owe us a day of your own sword arm.  In three weeks time there will be a stand against the hordes of the Abyss and we require that a small portal located deep in the Gray Realm** be guarded.  If this portal is taken then the hordes could use it for a flanking maneuver.  Will you aide us as we will aide you?”

Jared glanced over to Kellron, and then Jallarzi and Kestral.  They all nodded.  Jared turned back to the angels.  “We will.”

--

_*Heroes Feast

**The Astral Plane_


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## Seravin

Lots of things happened that were interesting for me at this point.
The players had asked for additional help so they could rescue the Duke and the priestesses at the same time.  After some discussion they said they wanted eight extra people - which would be the maximum affected by Jared's _heroes feast_ spell.  They were also open to running the helpers.
This let me highlight how powerful their normal characters were as compared to the next highest group of people that were on hand (average of 8th level).  It also allowed me to use lower level minions that could still challenge the new group of characters and not strain my sense of credibility; I didn't want a lot of higher level minions running around.

Jared's player surprised me.  I expected him to summon an angel and had suspected a planetar.  I had not expected two of them.  As a point of interest, planetars each have 14HD and cast spells as 17th level Clerics.  The party was 12th level.

Fortunately I had time to think about this and eventually decided that I wasn't going to stop him.  He had not abused the spell in the past, had worked hard to come up with alternative payments other than straight cash (had actually paid more than was strictly necessary in fact), and for him this would be fun.

So instead I came up with two things.  
The first was the conditions of the angel's involvement.  I wanted the party to have some impact on the upcoming fight, and a single planetar would have wiped the floor with just about everything that I had documented to date.  The party wouldn't have had to do much other than watch.

The second was that I finally committed to Aruk's devilish aide.  Imtithal was a Schrodinger monster to this point; he was only going to exist if the party was having too easy a time of it, and even then I was thinking a Cornugon or some such. 

As a side note, though it was never touched on, I like to think that small house they gathered in became a shrine of some sort; though the idea makes me feel sorry for the owners.


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## Joshua Randall

Is is considered bad form to bump a story hour almost a year after its last post?

Hey, it worked on Sepulchrave! Maybe it'll work on Seravin.


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## thedmstrikes

*Hey dude, write some more*

You still have a fan base and it is growing.  Although I have not been keeping up the last four years, I have recently discovered your thread and found it both entertaining and useful.  I too, have run this campaign arc several times and have modified it significantly.  None of my groups have made it past the end of book two though.  I have recently relocated once again and I am hoping to try one more time with some fresh blood, but players seem to be coming up short around here....none of the usual tricks have worked (ads, cons, game stores).  Oh well, just gives me more time for surfing the net to find useful (and deadly) ideas from other DMs....

Thanks for the read and I hope you finish it...


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## Blessed Cheesemaker

*Still hoping for an update*

Wow, I've been reading this over the last week, one page in the morning, the other in the evening. This has been some of the best stuff I've read, compared to anything, books, magazine's, other web pages.

I'm still holding out hope there will be another chapter in the story...


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