# JollyDoc's Savage Tide-Updated 10/8!



## JollyDoc

Well, friends and neighbors, here we go again.  I've grown so used to writing these things, I don't know what I'd do with myself if I couldn't continue....well, maybe I could think of a few things.  Anyway, a new adventure begins, in a strange, new world.  Come and join my players and me at our table once more as we embark upon...the Savage Tide!!

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Thrisp Doogal:  a gnome of svirfneblin ancestry, brought up in a good family, and trained at the respected House of Dragons, yet harboring a dark secret in his soul.

Samson Searanno:  a human-born dragon shaman, whose clan was wiped out by a rival tribe.  The soul survivor, he was rescued by the half-ogre Vico Bevenin and now works as a troubleshooter for the Chult Trading Concern.  

Ferox Deepdelver:  a dwarf refugee from the city of Cauldron.  Once a disciple of the dwarven hero Rusty Longbottom, he became disgruntled by the very un-dwarven like plans for fabled Jzadirune, and left to seek his fortune elsewhere.  Currently affiliated with Zelkarune’s Horns as a free-lance mercenary. 

Sepoto:  a one-time goliath slave whose freedom was purchased by worshippers of Savras, the All-Seeing.  Grateful and inspired by his saviors, he has pledged his allegiance to them, and to He of the Third Eye.

Gotr:  a gnome on the run, this twitchy and somewhat unbalanced individual is fleeing his own personal demons.  While he pays lip service to Oghma, his only true allegiance is to himself.  

Basil:  a plane-touched demon-spawn from Calimport, this magic wielding rogue wound up on the losing side of a guild war in the Shadowshore district of Tashluta.  He now makes his living hand-to-mouth, selling his skills to the highest bidder, and trying to stay one step ahead of those who want him dead. 

Anwar Rosznar:  a half-elven expatriate from Waterdeep, due to his family's involvement with slave trade and drug trafficking.  Aspires to regain his noble status in Tashluta, mainly by ingratiating himself with single women in high places.

Marius R'alan:  a younger son of minor nobility, who was turned away from the Witchwardens due to his "limited" arcane ability.  With minimal resources at his disposal, he was forced to choose the life of an adventurer, and joined the Seekers, a dubious group of treasure hunters.  

Xerxes:  another mercenary of Zelkarune's Horns, assigned as bodyguard to Keltar Islaran after threats were made on the life of the harbormaster.  Unfortunately, Xerxes failed in his task, and Keltar was killed by the Lotus Dragons while the dwarf was taken captive.  Freed by the Legion, he vowed to redeem himself in the service of Lavinia Vanderboren.  

Daelric Zorrin:  a favored soul of Shaundekal who was part of the Vanderborens' original expedition to Farshore.  Though the blood of the celestials runs thru his veins, his motives and allegiances remain unclear.

Ozymandia:  a gold elf transmuter who is also a Seeker, and was one of the original Farshore colonists with Lord and Lady Vanderboren.  She is descended from elven divinity, yet remains all too grounded in the sins of the world.

Tower Cleaver:  a minotaur separated from his tribe by space, time and creed, he now seeks only to find his way home again, while struggling to understand the strange, new tribe he has found himself a part of.

Octurus:  one of the last surviving warriors of the Tiger Clan, a fierce tribe of Maztican demon hunters.  With nothing to sustain him save his thirst for revenge against the fiends that destroyed his people, he has thrown in his lot with the Legion, no matter if the hunt leads him to the Abyss itself.

THERE IS NO HONOR

Greetings, and I trust this missive finds you in good health!
	My name is Lavinia Vanderboren, and I humbly
request your attendance at dinner at my estate on Festival
Street and Blue Skink Lane tomorrow evening.  I think that
I can present you with an opportunity uniquely suited to
your skills.  Please inform the carrier of this letter of 
your response to this invitation, and I hope to be 
speaking to you soon!

			Lavinia Vanderboren

Thrisp read the letter over again as he stood outside the open gates in the stone wall that surrounded the Vanderboren manor.  He had received it yesterday, delivered by a wizened halfling woman.  The young gnome of course knew of the Vanderborens, a relatively minor noble house in Tashluta, and had even seen the younger daughter, Lavinia, at one of the Dawn Council meetings.  Yet he had no idea what had prompted her to contact him, or what this meeting might be about.  True, since he had run through the last of the inheritance left to him by his father, he had begun advertising himself as an adventurer, but he had no practical experience, and certainly had not earned himself any great reputation so far.  Still, gifts and horses, as the saying went, and besides, rubbing elbows with the nobles, even the lesser ones, might just expedite his long-term ambitions.

The manor house was located in the Merchant District, and was impossible to miss with its towering, gothic three-story frame.  Leering gargoyles and capering nymphs festooned the eaves, and several trees gave the grounds a nice buffer from the bustle of the city.  Thrisp made his way to the front doors and knocked once.  After a few moments, the same woman who had delivered the note opened the door and greeted him.
“Thank ye for coming on time, sir!”  She bowed, and beckoned him in to a large atrium.  “The others are already here,” she continued.  “If ye’ll make yerself comfortable, Lady Vanderboren will be with you directly.”  She then turned and bustled down the entry hall and through a door at the far end.  ‘Others?’ Thrisp wondered as he stepped inside the darkened atrium and waited for his eyes to adjust.  Sure enough, there were several individuals gathered about the perimeter of the room, each clutching a rolled parchment like the one that he held.  Apparently Lavinia was quite desperate, he thought as he sized up his competition.  A non-descript human stood nearby, dressed in scale armor that had been painted green.  Next to him, engaged in idle conversation, was another human, wearing a ratty robe over equally ragged street clothes.  As his eyes turned to regard Thrisp, the gnome noticed with some surprise that they lacked pupils, and were a uniform shade of red.  The other three occupants of the room stood by themselves.  One was a black-bearded dwarf, dressed in heavy armor with his hand resting on the haft of a notched battleaxe hooked to his belt.  Thrisp noted, with increasing alarm, that this individual had a shield slung over his back that bore the herald of one of the Horseman…Bane!  Even more impressive was the goliath who stood directly across from him.  He too wore armor, but carried no weapons except for a pair of heavy, spiked chains wrapped around each of his forearms.  Strangely enough, he bore the symbol of Savras on an amulet around his neck.  Last was another gnome.  This surprised Thrisp, since there were very few of the little-folk living in Tashluta.  He was just about to greet the fellow, when he heard him muttering to himself, punctuating his words with odd grunts and the occasional curse.  He too wore a holy symbol, but not one that Thrisp recognized.

At that moment, the door at the far end of the corridor opened, and four figures came striding down the hall with the little halfling woman scuttling after them.  The first of these was a jaunty looking man with elven features, dressed in leathers and armed with half a dozen daggers of different shapes.  A dark-skinned dwarf with a sour expression, dressed in green and brown robes and clutching a large, curved spear walked beside him.  Next was an attractive, but haughty-looking woman dressed in dark purple robes and with a tattoo of a crescent moon on one cheek.  Last was a tall, handsome man dressed in a polished breastplate and carrying a wicked-looking sword.  This group eyed those assembled in the atrium with disdain as they passed and headed out the door, but the half-elf stopped and turned back.  
“Hmm,” he said.  “You lot must be the help Lavinia’s bringing in to do the chores.  Best of luck to you!”  He then walked out, laughing as he went.  The dwarf with the Banite shield took a step forward and looked as if he were about to spit out a retort, when the halfling servant spoke up.
“Lady Lavinia will see ye now, if ye’ll just follow me.”  

She led them to a comfortable and cozy private dining room, softly lit by wall-mounted lanterns.  A window overlooked the manor’s central courtyard and the carpet was thick and soft.  A large portrait hung on one wall, a fine work depicting a handsome young man with a short beard.  Standing before the portrait was an attractive woman wearing a long, flowing blue dress.  She smiled as the group entered.
“Welcome my friends,” she said.  “I am Lavinia Vanderboren.  As you may have heard, I recently inherited my parents’ estate.”  Thrisp had not.  “Along with this fine house, unfortunately, came a fine amount of debt owed the Dawn Council, the harbormaster, and quite a few guildhalls.  It seems my parents, for all their success as adventurers, were not as skilled at finance as one might expect.  If I’m to get these taxes paid, I’ll need to access my family’s vault under Stormwall Keep.  And that’s the problem, you see.  The vaults are magically locked, keyed to special signet rings.  Both of my parents had these rings, at least until recently.  My mother lost hers a few months ago.  She arranged for a replacement, but it won’t be done for another month or so, too late for me.  Which leaves my father’s ring.  He never wore it…he had a thing about men wearing jewelry.  He kept it hidden somewhere on his ship, the Blue Nixie.  The problem there is that the harbormaster’s seized the ship until someone pays for the last four months of mooring.  I’ve paid the fines to the man the harbormaster’s put in charge of my ship, a brute named Soller Vark.  Yet when I went to claim my ship, Vark’s men wouldn’t let me board, claiming that I hadn’t yet paid the fines.  I spoke to Vark again, and he denied ever receiving my payment.  My complaints to the harbormaster have fallen on deaf ears…he’s a doddering old fool who trusts his man and won’t relent.  Vark and his men are up to something on my ship, I know it.  What I need is to find out exactly what they’re up to.  Unfortunately, Vark’s not the type to react well to diplomacy or logic.  I need someone who speaks his language…which is where the six of you come in.  If you can find out what he’s using my ship for, or even better, recover the money I paid him, I’ll pay each of you two-hundred gold in return once I’ve access to my vault.”

“Begging your pardon, my lady,” Thrisp said, raising his hand.  This earned him a black scowl from the dwarf, and a litany of muttered grumblings from the other gnome.  “But I can’t help but wonder why you would choose such a…colorful group to work for you when it seems that you already have a band of mercenaries in your employ.”  
For a moment Lavinia looked puzzled, but then comprehension dawned and she nodded her head.  “You mean the Jade Ravens,” she said.  “It is true that they have been in the employ of my family for some time now, but I currently have need of their services elsewhere.  That is why I have called upon you.  I have done my research on each of you and have found that all of you have, shall we say, unique skills that I may find useful.  For example, you, Thrisp, bill yourself as a “master of illusion.”  I have often found that subtlety is far more useful than brute force on occasion.  However, sometimes the sword, or rather the chain speaks louder than words.  That is why I chose Ferox,” she indicated the dwarf, “and Sepoto,” she gestured towards the goliath.  Though your magic is powerful in its own way, master Thrisp, it may be that you will also have need of more…direct forms of arcana.  Isn’t that right Basil?”  She smiled at the shabbily dressed human, who nodded sheepishly.  “Then there are those whose skills are not so easily observed or defined, but are priceless nonetheless.  Samson here,” she nodded towards the man in the green armor, “has had much experience working with the Chult Trading Concern, and comes highly recommended by master Bevenin.  Last, but by no means least, any adventuring company worth its salt needs spiritual guidance, and that is where mister Gotr comes in.”  The twitchy gnome mumbled under his breath again and fiddled with his holy symbol.  “So you see, master Thrisp,” Lavinia continued, “I believe that I have chosen wisely and I hope I will not be disappointed…assuming that we have come to an arrangement.”  Thrisp looked around once more at his new associates and shook his head dubiously.  “Beggars, as they say, cannot be choosers,” he said, offering his hand to Lavinia.

_________________________________________________

It was almost midnight by the time the motley band reached pier number five, where Lavinia said the Blue Nixie was supposed to be moored.  It was there that they encountered their first dilemma:  the ship wasn’t there.  Instead, it was anchored some thirty yards off shore.
“Great,” snapped Ferox, “now what?  I ain’t swimmin’ and that’s fer sure.”  Thrisp looked around.  The boardwalk was deserted at this time of night, the guildhalls closed up tight for the evening.  No city watch were about.  Several small dinghies and rowboats were tied up near the pier.
“Why don’t we just take one of those?” he offered.  “That is if anyone can steer the thing.”
“Oh for the love of…” Gotr grumbled, cursing to himself as he unhitched the mooring line from the nearest boat.  He hopped nimbly aboard and positioned himself in the bow.  “Well?”  he said, glaring at the others with one eye squinted.  “What are you waiting for?  Do you think it’s going to row itself?”  

One-by-one the others climbed into the boat, Gotr steadying it all the while.  He motioned Ferox and Sepoto to the oars and then began barking hushed orders at them as he guided them out into the harbor.  As the Blue Nixie loomed closer, the little company could see several figures moving about its deck, backlit by lantern light.
“Wait!”  Basil hissed.  “I have an idea!”  Thrisp’s stomach tightened into a knot.  He could well imagine the buffoon of a wizard producing some flashy, showy magic which would give away their position to the entire district!  He was somewhat surprised, and even mildly impressed when the man did something quite the opposite.  He murmured a few arcane words, and in an instant, the boat and all its occupants were cloaked in shadowy darkness.  Still, as they neared the ship, the creak of the oarlocks betrayed their approach.

“Who goes there?” one of the sailors called from the main deck.  Thrisp thought quickly.  They were obviously discovered.  To remain silent would only rouse suspicions further.  Before any of the others could say anything stupid, he called back:  “We bring a message for Soller Vark!  It is urgent that we speak with him immediately!”  The dwarf and the goliath continued their rowing, bringing the boat ever closer.  After several tense moments, the sailor replied.  
“Come along side, but only two of yous can come up!  The rest stay below!”  Not quite what the gnome had hoped for, but better than being shot at in the dark.
“Ferox,” he whispered, “you and Sepoto should go.  When you get aboard, stall them, and I’ll try and convince them to let the rest of us come up.”  The dwarf grimaced, obviously not accustomed to taking orders from someone of Thrisp’s stature, but ultimately he nodded his reluctant agreement.

 The dwarf and goliath scrambled up the slippery ropes on the side of the ship and climbed onto the deck.  Two thuggish looking sailors waited there, loaded crossbows leveled at the pair.  A third sailor stood atop the foc’s’le, also holding a crossbow.
“Well?” one of the thugs said.  “What’s so important?”  
Ferox looked at Sepoto, who shrugged.  The dwarf turned back to the sailor, shrugged as well, and then clocked the man under the chin with the head of his axe, sending him stumbling back several steps.  

“What the hell are those idiots doing?”  Thrisp shouted in exasperation.
“Stalling,” Basil said, and then he pointed one finger at the sailor Ferox had struck and spoke a single, guttural word.  A missile of light streaked from the digit, and hit the seadog squarely in the chest.
“That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind!”  Thrisp sputtered indignantly.
“It would seem the choice has been made for us,” Samson said, catching hold of one of the guy lines and clambering up the side of the ship.

The situation on the deck was becoming more chaotic.  Sepoto had unwound one of the chains from his arm, and despite his size, he moved with the grace and speed of a cat.  With almost casual ease he snapped the chain out, catching around the throat the sailor that was still reeling from Basil’s attack, and jerked it taught, snapping the man’s neck.  Flicking it free, he spun, catching the second sailor around the knees as he tried to scramble a safe distance away.  Bracing his feet, the goliath pulled again, sending the man sprawling to the boards in a heap.  At that moment, a door beneath the foc’s’le slammed open, and four more figures spilled out onto the deck, one of them female.  They all held rapiers in their hands, and the largest among them was bald with a jagged scar running down one arm…Soller Vark.  Vark closed quickly to where Samson had just stepped over the rail and deftly pierced the dragon shaman’s shoulder with his foil.  Samson recoiled, hissing in pain as blood streamed down his arm.  Vark advanced on him again, but from out of nowhere Sepoto was there, and a lightning-fast cuff from one chain-wrapped fist brought the mercenary up short.

Meanwhile Ferox leaped after the man the goliath had tripped, just grazing him with his axe as the sailor lunged on all-fours towards the deck rail and threw himself over the side.
“Not so fast, swabby,” Basil said as he sent another missile at the swimmer.  The sailor gurgled once and then sank beneath the water.  Thrisp cursed again at the lack of professionalism he was being forced to endure.  Still, they were past the point of no return and in very real danger.  He began speaking the words to his own spell, gesturing at the thug on the foc’s’le and another who stood near by.
“Sleep,” he whispered, and as if on command, both of them dropped bonelessly to the deck.

Samson, still favoring his wounded arm, managed to draw his sword and lunge at Vark, stabbing deep into the scoundrel’s leg.  As he did so, a wave of power seemed to emanate from him, and as Sepoto watched, the shaman’s wound began to knit itself back together again.  Vark continued to back away from the combined assault of the two warriors, and he began to shout:  “Burn them!  Burn them all!”  Sepoto continued to advance on Vark, pausing only for a moment to crush the skull of the sleeping sailor who lay at his feet.  Vark’s eyes widened in shock, and then Ferox was coming towards him as well.  The two sailors still standing moved to interpose themselves between the attackers and their leader.  The woman slashed her rapier across the dwarf’s cheek, while the male darted in under Sepoto’s guard, scoring a minor wound.  For some reason, the goliath barely felt the injury.  His skin seemed somehow tougher, almost impervious.  Again he felt that strange energy flowing from Samson.

Just then, smoke began billowing up from the hold, and the group could hear the frantic shrieks and cries of several animals coming from below.  Then there was the sound of a terrific crash, followed by a woman’s high-pitched scream, and a strange, shrill keening.  Basil, who was just climbing over the top of the rail, paused, as did everyone else on deck…except Vark.  He turned and dashed for the starboard rail, and dove over.  Samson rushed to the railing, hefting a short javelin as he ran.  Just as he was preparing to throw at the retreating figure, the female sailor crashed into him, slashing with her rapier as she came.
“Swim, Soller, swim!” she cried.  Then her eyes abruptly glazed over, and her jaw went slack.
“That should hold her for a second or two,” Thrisp said as he came over the rail behind Basil.  The last sailor standing quickly threw down his weapon at Sepoto’s feet, raising his hands in the air.
“I give up!” he cried.  “Don’t kill me!”  Ferox growled and shouldered past him, trying to peer through the smoke into the hold.
“I can’t see nothin’!” he spat, and then, without warning, he simply jumped down.
“I’m dealing with complete idiots,” Thrisp muttered under his breath.

Ferox landed flat on his back.  The hold was rapidly filling with smoke, though he could see no actual flames.  Dozens of cages held a variety of exotic animals, such as monkeys, parrots, and other creatures he didn’t recognize.  A dozen feet from him lay a woman, obviously dead, in a growing pool of blood.  Behind her, one particularly large cage was smashed open, and crouched atop it was a spider-like creature the size of a pony.  Its body was dark brown with yellow stripes, and its furred legs were long and spindly.  The front pair of its ten legs reared up threateningly, their tips flattening into terrible discs studded with dozens of hooked suckers.  The monster’s head was horrifically oversized, dominated by immense mandibles that chattered and clacked with obvious hunger.
“Uh-oh,” the dwarf said, and then the thing was coming at him, moving incredibly fast.  Just as it was almost on top of him, all of its legs suddenly slipped from under it, splaying out to both sides.  Ferox could see an oily slick covering the decking beneath the beast, one he was sure hadn’t been there a moment before.
“Get out of there!” came a voice from above, and he looked up and saw Basil’s face peering down at him.  Then the mage was elbowed aside by the hulking form of Sepoto.
“Get clear!” the goliath shouted, and then he snapped one of his chains down into the hold, opening a large gash in the spider-creature’s hide.  As the monster screeched and flailed, Ferox struggled to get to his feet.  As he did so, however, one of the beast’s pedipalps slammed into him.  Ferox felt the thorny hooks bite into his flesh as he was yanked towards the crushing mandibles.  He was too close to bring his axe to bear, so he pounded madly with his fists…to no avail.  The horror opened its great jaws and then clamped them shut around the dwarf’s chest.  A great gout of blood spewed from his mouth as he went deathly still.

“Savras save us…” Sepoto murmured as he saw Ferox go limp.  The monster then cast the dwarf’s body aside, and began climbing up the ladder towards the deck.  
“Get back, all of you!” the goliath cried.  As its massive head cleared the hatch, he struck, scoring its flesh again in a deep rent.  Yet on it came.  Once more it struck out with its palp, hooking the crusader around the waist.  As it attempted to drag Sepoto towards its maw, he grabbed both of its jaws, preventing them from closing by brute strength.  With a great heave, he thrust the creature away from him, and then lashed out with his chain before it could charge again.  The weapon nearly decapitated the brute, and it twitched feebly for a moment on the deck before going still.

Gotr was the last of the group to board the ship.  He looked about, assessing the situation.  One thug still lay snoozing on the foc’s’le, while another stood with his hands raised in surrender.  Across the deck, a woman stood dazed and glassy-eyed.  It was her that the gnome focused on.  He knocked an arrow to his bow and carefully aimed, drawing the string to his cheek.  As he loosed, he calmly readied another.  The first arrow struck the woman, sending her spinning towards the rail.  As she struggled to regain her balance, the second missile hit.  This one caused her to stagger back, losing her footing and toppling over the side, yet even as she fell, a third arrow took her in the throat, ensuring that she would not be escaping.
“Women,” the gnome said.  “Can’t live with’em, but you can shoot’em.”

During this time, the thug who had surrendered began edging closer to the port side railing, but Thrisp caught him out of the corner of his eye.  Using the same spell he had cast on the woman, he stopped the sailor in his tracks, leaving him dazed and confused.  Sepoto then walked up behind the man and cold-cocked him with his ham-sized fist.
_____________________________________________________

“I don’t understand why we don’t just kill them and be done with it.”  Gotr had been arguing this same point for several minutes.  
“Because we need to keep them alive and question them,” Thrisp explained for what seemed like the dozenth time.  “We need to find out what they were doing here, and where Vark might be headed.”
“Bah!” the other gnome spat.  “We don’t need both of them alive to do that, and besides, isn’t it obvious?  They’re smugglers!  Not those animals in the hold…you can get their like anywhere in Azure district.  No, it’s that big sucker they were hoping to cash in on.  The Watch frowns on the trade of so-called dangerous creatures.  Case closed.  Mystery solved.”
“Look,” Thrisp said, exasperated.  “We were hired to get the ship back, recover the money, and find Lavinia’s father’s ring.  We’ve done all that.  Murder wasn’t part of the deal.”  Indeed, after scouring the ship, they had found a small chest containing the one-hundred platinum coins Lavinia had paid Vark.  Then, secreted in a compartment in the headboard of a bed, they had discovered the signet ring, and a scrap of parchment threaded through it that held a code of some sort.  Basil was still puzzling over it.
Gotr threw up his hands.  “Fine!  Do whatever you want!  You weren’t so squeamish about dumping the other bodies overboard, including Ferox!”
“That’s different!” Thrisp shouted.  “As soon as we pilot the ship back to the pier and report to Lavinia, the Watch is going to be swarming all over the place.  We want as few questions asked as possible about our methods.  No bodies…no evidence.  We were just disposing of the dead.”
“Then why not ‘dispose’ of those two as well?” Gotr asked.
Thrisp shook his head.  The conversation was going in circles.  
“We will leave them here, bound, gagged and unconscious,” he said finally.  “Whatever Lavinia wants to do with them after that, is up to her.”  Gotr still did not seem satisfied, but he didn’t argue the point further.  When they reached the pier again, the prisoners were secured, and then Thrisp took the liberty of disabling the wheel, just in case Vark should return while they were gone and attempt to steal the ship back.  Then, while the moon was still down, they made their way back to Vanderboren Manor.

_________________________________________________________

“While I am truly sorry for the loss of Ferox,” Lavinia said, seated in a large padded chair in the private dining room of her home, “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.  Don’t concern yourself with Vark’s escape.  The carcass of that creature you killed will be more than enough to convince the Watch that he was involved in smuggling.  If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll leave Tashluta on the first ship.  As for the two you captured, their word won’t mean anything.  The Vanderboren name still has some clout in this town.  Now, about this note you found with the ring, ‘chimera looks to sunrise; cyclops looks to sunset; medusa looks to sunrise, umberhulk looks to sunset; basilisk looks to sunrise.’  Do you make anything of it?”
Basil cleared his throat.  “Well, begging your pardon my lady, but I believe it might be a code, or some sort of combination.”
“Go on,” Lavinia said.
“Obviously sunset and sunrise refer to right and left,” the wizard continued, though he could tell by the looks on the faces of some of his cohorts that this wasn’t obvious at all.  “The creatures mentioned are unrelated to each other except for one thing:  the number of eyes they have.  A chimera has three heads, thus six eyes.  A cyclops has only one, while a medusa and a basilisk each have two, and an umberhulk has four.  So, the combination would be six right, one left, two right, four left and two right.”
Lavinia looked thoughtful for a moment, and then she smiled to herself.  
“The five of you have done such an excellent job so far, that I have another offer to make you.  Stay on in my employ as my personal troubleshooters, agents and bodyguards, and I will pay you a retainer of one-hundred gold coins monthly.  There are also other…less tangible benefits to being in the service of a noble house.”
One by one the group looked at each other, each sizing up the next.  Despite their lack of planned out tactics, Thrisp had to admit that they had worked quite well together when the chips were down.  He actually couldn’t believe his good fortune.  To be in the personal employ of a city noble.  Things couldn’t be going more according to plan.  His contacts would be most pleased.  
“I’m in,” he said aloud.  “I for one could use a steady paycheck, and despite my initial misgivings, you lot acquitted yourselves excellently.  I think we would make a great team.”  Slowly the others nodded.
“Excellent!” Lavinia said clapping her hands and standing.  “It’s settled then.  As it so happens, I already have your first official assignment.  The family vaults of the nobles lie beneath Stormwall Keep.  I need to travel there first thing in the morning to access that of my parents.  I’ve never been there myself, but rumor has it that some of the vaults are quite extensive and guarded by traps.  Based on the things I heard my father say over the years, I suspect our own is relatively small and safe, but there may be a guardian…a construct of some sort.  I need you to accompany me as protection, and to aid me in investigating the vault’s contents.  Meet me here at first light.”
__________________________________________________

The next morning Lavinia hired a coach to take her and her retinue to High Market in the Noble District, where they caught a ferry to the keep.  Once there, they passed through a series of corridors to the lower levels where a single clerk stopped them to verify Lavinia’s identity and her signet.  He then escorted the group down a spiral staircase into a large circular chamber.  Over a dozen hallways radiated out from the central chamber, each ending at a single iron door.  The clerk indicated a short hallway before bidding them good day and returning up the stairs.

The short passageway ended at a solid-looking iron door which was emblazoned with a simple rune…an eight-pointed star.  Above the door, inscribed in flowing script on a polished silver plaque, was the name “Vanderboren.”  A single handle protruded from the door, just below a circular depression bearing the mark of the Vanderboren signet.  Thrisp walked forward, and passed his hands over the door.
“There is magic here, my lady,” he said, “but not of a dangerous sort.  I imagine it is some sort of arcane lock.”  
Lavinia nodded and moved to the door.  “I do not recognize this symbol,” she said, and then she inserted her ring into the depression.  The door flashed once with blue light, and then slowly swung open on creaking hinges.

Lavinia moved back into the main chamber, accompanied by Gotr and Basil, while Samson and Sepoto passed cautiously into the room beyond the vault door, Thrisp a few paces behind.  The floor of the domed chamber on the other side was of polished, green marble.  Two wide alcoves to the right and left had lower ceilings and featured marble pillars carved to resemble coiling snakes.  In the center of the room, five similar pillars were embedded into the walls, rising up thirty feet to the dome overhead.  The dome itself bore a huge representation of the same eight-pointed star that was engraved on the exterior door.  The chamber was shadowy, with only the light from outside spilling in to illuminate it dimly.

Suddenly, Samson and Sepoto caught a flicker of movement on either side, coming from the darkened alcoves.  What at first appeared to be a pair of large snakes, each the size of a small dog, slithered forward, but as they entered the light and reared up, unfurling the hoods on their necks, it became clear that they were made entirely of iron!
“Watch out!” Thrisp shouted.  He knew that his magic would have little effect on the constructs, but he knew as well that, though physically formidable, such creatures were usually mindless.  He spoke a few words and gestured towards the nearest cobra.  A wall of shadow began forming between the creature and the other occupants of the room.  In a matter of moments, it solidified, a barrier of pure iron reaching to the ceiling.
“Sepoto!  Samson!” he called.  “The wall is not real.  It is but a figment, but the guardian won’t know the difference!  The illusion will only last as long as I concentrate on it!  Hurry and dispatch the other cobra!”
Sepoto nodded, but before he could act, the second cobra struck, sinking its metallic fangs deep into his forearm.  He felt a burning sensation creeping up his arm, sapping his strength.  Quickly he shook himself free, unfurling his chains as he stepped back.  Samson moved opposite him, circling around behind the serpent.  The pair worked like a well-oiled machine, one darting in to strike at the construct while the other distracted it.  Sepoto suffered another minor bite, but in a matter of moments, the guardian lay in pieces.

“I’m dropping the other wall!” Thrisp cried.  “Now!”
Instantly the illusory wall vanished and the second cobra darted forward.  Once again, the complimentary fighting styles of the two warriors disabled the construct quickly, though Samson earned his own bite for his troubles.  Once the guardians had been dispatched, Lavinia came into the vault.
“Excellent work, gentlemen!  I knew my faith in you had not been misplaced.”  Gotr, muttering to himself, went to the injured pair and quickly tended their wounds.  Meanwhile, Thrisp began pacing around the perimeter of the room.  One of the few things that he had inherited from his father was the svirfneblin knack for stonecraft.  When he reached the central pillar embedded in the north wall, he observed that the serpentine pattern on it was different than the others.  He ran his hands over the stone, and his nimble fingers quickly uncovered a hidden switch.  As he pulled it, the snake designs animated, writhing aside like living creatures, until they formed a coiling archway leading to another chamber beyond.

This second room was octagonal and supported by a single, large pillar with dozens of deep grooves along its sides.  The seven walls of the room each bore fantastically detailed bas-relief carvings of exotic monsters in threatening poses.  Starting at the wall immediately west of the entrance and moving clockwise, the carvings depicted a tentacled monster with a glaring, red eye and a mouth full of teeth, a looming dragon, a fish-like creature with three eyes and four tentacles, a two-headed giant wielding a pair of immense clubs, a spherical creature with four eyestalks and a bulging central eye over a drooling maw, a gorilla-like beast with a fanged maw and six eyes, and finally a towering black spider with seven eyes.  Each monster’s eyes consisted of a glittering red stone.  The ceiling above was only ten-feet high, with the familiar eight-pointed star pattern radiating out from the grooved pillar.  The arms of the star were all black, save for the southernmost one, which was red.

“I don’t understand,” Lavinia said as she entered the room.  “These aren’t the same creatures described in the code.
“No, they’re not,” Samson said, peering at the carvings.  “But several of them have the same number of eyes as the monsters in the note.  I think Basil’s idea about the combination is still sound.  Only…where is the lock?”
“Here,” Thrisp said, examining the pillar.  “It rotates.”  
With Samson on one side, and Sepoto on the other, they began turning the pillar, which clicked in its socket with each turn.  Following Basil’s instructions, they rotated it six times to the right, one to the left, two again to the right, four more to the left, and then again two to the right.  When the pillar clicked into its last slot, the entire room began to rumble and five hidden alcoves were revealed in the walls of the chamber.

Lavinia immediately rushed to the nearest alcove and began opening the chests that had been secreted there.  As she did so, a look of disappointment came over her.  When she moved on to the next set, Thrisp could see why.  Only a handful of silver coins lay at the bottom of the chests.  Chest after chest turned up empty, and the noble woman was visibly distraught.  Finally, in the last alcove, the chests were full, with many gold coins and gem stones visible to the onlookers.  She also pulled out a number of ledgers and a thick pile of documents.  Several minutes passed as she glanced over the papers, wiping tears from her eyes.  Finally, she stood, facing her employees.
“I don’t understand this,” she said, her voice cracking.  “How could it all be gone?  These ledgers list debts owed to my parents from various guilds and noble families.  If I can collect on these, and with the money here, I should have ample to pay my back taxes and begin putting my estate back in order, but there should have been much, much more.  The only thing I can’t make sense of is this.”  She shook the pile of documents that she held in her left hand.  “It’s written in a language that I can’t understand.”
“My lady,” Thrisp said, stepping forward, “if I may?”  She handed him the documents and he began looking over them, speaking the words to a minor incantation.  The writing immediately became clear to him.  It was written in elven.  The documents appeared to comprise a journal written by Lavinia’s mother, cataloging her explorations to a place called the Isle of Dread.  Several maps and sketches accompanied them.  He explained all this to Lavinia as he returned the papers to her.
“My parents were always off on various ventures and journeys, but they never spoke of them to me or my brother.  It seems there was much more to them than I ever could have imagined.”

As they left the vaults, Lavinia paused at the clerk’s desk.
“Has anyone else visited the vault recently?” she asked the man.
“Why yes, my lady,” he nodded.  “Your brother, Vanthus, has visited the vault several times over the past month.”
Lavinia gasped, a shocked look on her face.  “My brother?” she asked.  “He has been missing for over a month!”
“I…I’m sorry miss,” the clerk stammered, “but he bore your family signet, and I recognized him as a Vanderboren.  I will be sure to notify you if he comes here again.”
Lavinia nodded, still stunned.  She did not speak a word as they left the keep and returned to Vanderboren manor.
________________________________________________________

When they had gathered again in her receiving room, Lavinia collapsed on a chair, her face in her hands.  
“I suppose I must tell you of my brother,” she said at length.  “Vanthus and I were quite close growing up.  We had to be since our parents were rarely around.  We grew to depend on each other, and we also got into a fair amount of trouble together.  After one particular incident involving several love potions being emptied into a water tower, our childhoods came to an end.  I was sent to the Thenalar Academy for the next five years, while Vanthus was shipped out to work on a plantation.  When we returned home one year ago, we had both changed.  I like to think that I benefited from my time at Thenalar, but Vanthus was bitter.  He no longer had time for me, sleeping all day, and spending his evenings with associates of doubtful character.  Eventually, he moved out of the house entirely.  I believe that he took up with a lover in Azure District, but I never learned the details.  When our parents died, he returned for a week, but he had changed even more.  Gone was the easy sense of humor I recalled fondly from our childhood, and in its place was a bitter cynicism and a morbid streak that sent chills up my spine.  After several arguments, he struck me with his fist one time.  I was shocked, and for a moment, he was as well, but an instant later he was back to his new self, all scowls and menace.  He gathered his belongings and left, and I haven’t seen him sense.”  At this point, she raised her head, her tear-filled eyes staring imploringly at her servants.  
“I know something profound happened to my brother at some point to change him so, but I have no idea what it could be.  I believe he has fallen in with a bad crowd, perhaps smugglers or thieves, or even killers.  Although his attitude might speak otherwise, I have hope that it is still not too late for him, and that he can be brought back to my side.  I might be able to talk some sense into him and redeem him before he passes forever out of my reach.  The problem is, I don’t know where he’s gone.  I implore you…find my brother for me, and bring him safely home!”


----------



## gfunk

*Table of Contents for JollyDoc's Savage Tide*

*There is No Honor*

There is No Honor
The Hunt Begins
Penkus' Revenge
A Question of Loyalty
Black Mail and Black Tie

*The Bullywug Gambit*

Kraken's Cove
The Old Order Changeth
We Don't Need no Stinkin' Fighters
The Bullywug Gambit

*The Sea Wyvern's Wake*

The Sea Wyvern's Wake
Flotsam and Jetsam
Tomb Raiders
Journey's End
Lost (1st part)

*Here There Be Monsters*

Lost (2nd part)
Here There Be Monsters
Cliffs of Insanity
Death in Fogmire
The Enemy Within
The Shrine of the Demon Prince

*Tides of Dread*

Farshore
Gods and Monsters
Victory at What Cost?
Hell Hath No Fury

*The Coming Storm (Linker Adventure)*

The Coming Storm
Bless the Beasts and the Children
Blessed of the Obah
The 3000
A Woman Scorned (Mandi's Backstory)

*The Lightless Depths*

The Lords of Dread
Those That Time Forgot
Golismorga
The Hunger Below

*City of Broken Idols*

The Devil Wears Couatl
Taboo Island
Ghosts and Demons
Enemies at the Gate
Beware the Thing They Call the Blob
Never Leave a Man Behind!
Revenge . . . 

*Serpents of Scuttlecove*

. . . Best Served Cold
Serpents of Scuttlecove
Deals With Devils
Mayhem at the Minting House
In the Coils of the Kraken
Rampage at the Wreck
Bull in a China Shop
Answers and Questions


----------



## gfunk

Ferox obviously doesn't have the Deepdelver clan success rate for surviving campaigns.  Rusty survived the Adimarchus fight, Ferox got PW8ND the first time he rolled initiative.

I actually rolled up a temp character so I could do something the Vault but look for Gfunk's PC Take 2 in the next update.


----------



## R-Hero

Just a little more grizzly than most characters that I've played in the past...



			
				Jollydoc said:
			
		

> _“Women,” the gnome said. “Can’t live with’em, but you can shoot’em.”_




...no paladin in that boy, shure 'nuf!

I wonder if the alignments will make for a more surprizing story hour??  

Good Start, Joe.


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Great write up! yea I think the Alignments are going to make a big Difference in this story. No book of Exalted Deeds allowed.

So let me Guess G your new character is a caster (Psionic's)?


----------



## demiurge1138

So it begins! And a lot meaner and seedier than last time!

Sorry to hear that a character got killed in the first battle, but I believe it. Those vermin are seriously tough customers. 

Demiurge out.


----------



## gfunk

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> So let me Guess G your new character is a caster (Psionic's)?




Not quite, though I may go that way if Joe kills me again.  BTW, could you bring your Complete Adventurer this weekend?  Thanks.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Damn, Ferox should have stayed with Rusty.  Nasty critters, though. Spiders as big as ponies - they should get a fear aura..._shudder_
Do that Jack-Sparrow-swashbuckling-pirate thing, I beg of ya, matey.  Go show them landlubbers!

JollyDM, nice intro. Love the characters & the alignments.


----------



## R-Hero

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> ...Do that Jack-Sparrow-swashbuckling-pirate thing, I beg of ya, matey.  Go show them landlubbers!





Gotr is about the only official sailor (W/ a whopping 4 to Skill check=Sailor) and I was going for more of a Inigo Montoya with Sepoto in the role of Fezzic.  

(Anyone remeber the movie?? Its and easy one.)


----------



## Corbert

Woohoo! JollyDoc tells a good tale, and I expect this to be no different  .


----------



## Quartz

Roll on the next episode!


----------



## Supar

R-Hero said:
			
		

> Just a little more grizzly than most characters that I've played in the past...
> 
> 
> 
> ...no paladin in that boy, shure 'nuf!
> 
> I wonder if the alignments will make for a more surprizing story hour??
> 
> Good Start, Joe.




I must say that it definately felt good to beat prisoners without having to have the discussion of weather it is ok or not


----------



## Joachim

Supar said:
			
		

> I must say that it definately felt good to beat prisoners without having to have the discussion of weather it is ok or not




That's what Rumsfeld said.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Joachim said:
			
		

> That's what Rumsfeld said.



 Which tells you which alignments he doesn't have...


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Nothing evil about plying a little information gathering, it's a skill right?

GW


----------



## EvolutionKB

I am curious to see how Sampson does (power wise and build wise) because I've never seen a dragon shaman in play or heard of anybody that has tried playing one.

Good Luck guys!


----------



## stonegod

EvolutionKB said:
			
		

> I am curious to see how Sampson does (power wise and build wise) because I've never seen a dragon shaman in play or heard of anybody that has tried playing one.



We're using one right now in Mal's Savage Tide and he made a big difference on the Blue Nixie.


----------



## Joachim

EvolutionKB said:
			
		

> I am curious to see how Sampson does (power wise and build wise) because I've never seen a dragon shaman in play or heard of anybody that has tried playing one.




My honest appraisal is that the Dragon Shaman is a good character class in the low- to mid-levels...we had one in our most recent Open triumph and that character was a key component to the team.  

I am not certain how effective Sampson is going to be at the higher levels, even if he maximizes on all of the breath weapon feat-cheese from Draconomicon.  We shall see.


----------



## stonegod

Joachim said:
			
		

> I am not certain how effective Sampson is going to be at the higher levels, even if he maximizes on all of the breath weapon feat-cheese from Draconomicon.  We shall see.



Very possible. At least Dragon Magic introduced a few new auras, so there is a bit more choice involved for variety.


----------



## JollyDoc

Sam....son....Samson.  Thank you.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

gfunk said:
			
		

> *There is No Honor*



There is No Teaser. Did you not play?


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> There is No Teaser. Did you not play?




We did...I was waiting to see if G would post one.  If he doesn't by tonight, I'll do so.


----------



## gfunk

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> There is No Teaser. Did you not play?




Meh . . . Sorry, didn't realize I was still responsible for those.

*Tuesday Afternoon Update*

1. The party, using little in the way of subtlety or guile, asks around the city about Vanthus.  They are eventually approached by a shady character claiming to know information.

2. The party returns to Lavina's estate with said shady character, here they meet two new party members, a powerful warmage and Lavina's "main squeeze."

3. In a move that would be wholly uncharacteristic for the League, the party badly mistreats said shady character but not before extracting information (and taking his clothes).

4. A trip to Parrot Island leads to the party being trapped underground and surrounded by mobs of zombie pirates with a heck of a leader.

5. There is no exit.  Or is there?


----------



## LordVyreth

Wow, it didn't take you guys much time at all for this Story Hour.  I'm sort of relieved; it was interesting leaping into the last one mid-campaign, but it made it slightly harder to keep track of the early events.  Some basic questions.

1. Any adventures in nomenclature this time?  I noticed the characters aren't named after DC heroes, or Joss Whedon characters, or any other naming thing I recognize.

2. The change in heroic demeanor is interesting.  Could you give us some hints about their actual alignments?  I can theorize that Thrisp at least might be good, but it's possible he's just Neutral Cautious.  And Ferox was really a worshipper of Bane?  How would that have worked out?

3. I'm grateful that my campaigns tend to be home brewed, because it means things get a nice note of finality afterwards, and previous character, PC or otherwise, cameos can be limited.  You guys have three campaigns worth of epic or near-epic characters running around, and I have to admit I'm curious as to how Doc's handling it all.  What's stopping the Cauldron Gang from trying to stop Kyuss, or for Entropy to take one look at him and say, "Yeah, that's not happening?"  Or has the way Savage Tide's been set up work well to handle this already?


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> You guys have three campaigns worth of epic or near-epic characters running around, and I have to admit I'm curious as to how Doc's handling it all.  What's stopping the Cauldron Gang from trying to stop Kyuss, or for Entropy to take one look at him and say, "Yeah, that's not happening?"



C'mon, it's Forgotten Realms. Level 20+ characters are nothing special. Hell, even the fields are worked on by farmers with 10 levels commoner. 

The end of the last campaign did a lot to clean up there, though. Elminster and the 7 Spinsters bye, bye, among others.


----------



## hbarsquared

How long after the events of _Age of Worms_ does the beginining of your _Savage Tide_ campaign start?  I'm curious about the chronology of all of your campaigns.


----------



## JollyDoc

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Wow, it didn't take you guys much time at all for this Story Hour.  I'm sort of relieved; it was interesting leaping into the last one mid-campaign, but it made it slightly harder to keep track of the early events.  Some basic questions.
> 
> 1. Any adventures in nomenclature this time?  I noticed the characters aren't named after DC heroes, or Joss Whedon characters, or any other naming thing I recognize.
> 
> 2. The change in heroic demeanor is interesting.  Could you give us some hints about their actual alignments?  I can theorize that Thrisp at least might be good, but it's possible he's just Neutral Cautious.  And Ferox was really a worshipper of Bane?  How would that have worked out?
> 
> 3. I'm grateful that my campaigns tend to be home brewed, because it means things get a nice note of finality afterwards, and previous character, PC or otherwise, cameos can be limited.  You guys have three campaigns worth of epic or near-epic characters running around, and I have to admit I'm curious as to how Doc's handling it all.  What's stopping the Cauldron Gang from trying to stop Kyuss, or for Entropy to take one look at him and say, "Yeah, that's not happening?"  Or has the way Savage Tide's been set up work well to handle this already?




1)  No theme this time.  

2) Let me see if I can remember off hand...Thrisp is neutral, Sepoto is LN, Gotr is CN, Samson is LN, Basil is LN.  Ferox was not a Banite...had he lived, it would have been revealed that he found the shield.  New characters being introduced:  Anwar is NE and Marius is, I believe, LN...or CN.

3)  This is actually what I love about our campaign.  Our Forgotten Realms has wandered far afield from canon.  In every game I've played/DM'd since 1992, I've incorporated aspects into the ongoing game.   I enjoy former PC's taking on the roles of power, ergo no more Elminster in our world...no more seven sisters...no more Vangerdahast or Azoun, and now, no more Lords of Waterdeep.  Our version of Faerun is fast becoming more like a frontier.  Even the Harpers have fragmented into an orthodox group, and a vigilante group.  Sembia is beset by civil war.  Cormyr is a smoking ruin, for the most part.  The Moonsea is in open warfare, though Hillsfar is the last bastion of Good there.  The Dales are paranoid of all outsiders now.  Waterdeep is now involved in a holy war.  The land is rife with conflict and thus ripe for adventure.  Therefore, all the heroes/anti-heroes have other fires to put out, or other, more far-reaching goals.


----------



## JollyDoc

jeremy_dnd said:
			
		

> How long after the events of _Age of Worms_ does the beginining of your _Savage Tide_ campaign start?  I'm curious about the chronology of all of your campaigns.




I'm timing this one roughly 1 to 2 years after the events in AoW.


----------



## IanB

Man, what is with you people and the goliaths!


----------



## JollyDoc

IanB said:
			
		

> Man, what is with you people and the goliaths!




Jergal is really Grumbar.  The fourth adventure path is going to be called Age of Goliaths.


----------



## EvolutionKB

So when we gonna see a new update?  By the way the Epilogue for AoW was great, can't wait to see how things play out this time.  Samson...got it.


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

IanB said:
			
		

> Man, what is with you people and the goliaths!




Seriously name one race that gives you +4 to Str and +2 to con and lets you use large weapons with no negative all that with a -2 to dex and only 1 ECL. I love Goliaths best race ever for melee or even Cleric plus Favored soul. So that is why Goliaths Rule in my opinion.


----------



## Cosmic.Justice

The statistical bonuses are decent for Goliaths, but they would balance out well compared to a Dwarf or Human if not for the ability to wield large sized weapons.  They really are the best for melee characters.  I would not use them for a Cleric, but I really dislike sacrificing spellcasting progression in any way. 

What happened to Ferox, anyway?  That seemed like a rapid death.  Critical hit or was that just the way it was written?  Based on the party tactics seen so far, it will be interesting to see if the "kill first, talk using Speak With The Dead" will be the primary method of social interaction with this party.


----------



## JollyDoc

Cosmic.Justice said:
			
		

> What happened to Ferox, anyway?  That seemed like a rapid death.  Critical hit or was that just the way it was written?  Based on the party tactics seen so far, it will be interesting to see if the "kill first, talk using Speak With The Dead" will be the primary method of social interaction with this party.




Ferox got hit, improve grabbed, hit again.  Next round...crit...1d8 +3 x2....I rolled and 8 and a 7.  27 hp.  He only had 21.  

Next update up this weekend.


----------



## Joachim

Cosmic.Justice said:
			
		

> The statistical bonuses are decent for Goliaths, but they would balance out well compared to a Dwarf or Human if not for the ability to wield large sized weapons.  They really are the best for melee characters.  I would not use them for a Cleric, but I really dislike sacrificing spellcasting progression in any way.




It depends on your cleric build.  If you are going for the super-spellcasting or cloistered cleric, then I agree that Goliaths are not the way.  But if you are looking at a melee cleric (which Grubber was at the lower levels) then even with the LA the Goliath is far and away the best choice.

The ability to wield large weapons is sweet.  I have actually been milling over the possibility of making a Half-Ogre Cleric of Tyr that wields a spiked chain.  I will call him Groachimm or Joarimm.  What do you think?


----------



## JollyDoc

Joachim said:
			
		

> I have actually been milling over the possibility of making a Half-Ogre Cleric of Tyr that wields a spiked chain.  I will call him Groachimm or Joarimm.  What do you think?




I think Adimarchakyussgorgon would take him...


----------



## Supar

Cosmic.Justice said:
			
		

> I would not use them for a Cleric, but I really dislike sacrificing spellcasting progression in any way.




As far as Grubber goes i think everything just went together nicely in the fact that from 1 to about 10 Grubber was a melee force to recon with with a side of spell casting. But depending on your feat selection you can become not a bad spell caster. Between bead of karma and divine spell power the ability to be +8 caster lvl is awesome. at high lvls if your willing to burn 1 miracle before a dungeon crawl you can give your self half your caster lvl to wisdom (5th lvl Druid spell owls insight). you can make some silly DCes not ot mention the str bonus you can use to cast sanctified spells.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE HUNT BEGINS

The only lead that Lavinia’s new employees had to go on in the search for her missing brother, was her allusion to the fact that he had a mistress in the Azure District, and so it was there that they began their inquiries.  Azure District was Tashluta’s true waterfront, and it also housed the majority of the city’s slums and lower-class citizens, though none so desperate as might be found in Shadowshore.  As in any such area, local taverns were always a good source of information, if one knew the right questions to ask, and it was in one such, the Bloodthirsty Pelican, that the fledgling adventurers found their first piece of credible news.  It seemed that Vanthus had frequented the bar in the company of a woman named Brissa Santos, a notorious pickpocket turned semi-legitimate artist.  It appeared that she had hitched her grifting wagon to a star with the young noble, but neither of them had been seen for several weeks.  Beyond this, the trail grew cold.  

Lavinia had also mentioned her fears that her brother may have fallen in with associates of “doubtful character,” including, perhaps, smugglers, thieves, or killers.  As Basil and Samson, both former residents of Shadowshore, were quick to point out,  just such an assortment of miscreants could be found in abundance in Tashluta’s most notorious district.  At a local establishment called the Plucked Parrot, they happened upon an individual who, for a small fee, informed them that Vanthus was often seen in the company of a known smuggler named Penkus, a man notorious for his drunken binges and violent temper.  Penkus had been seen less and less in the District over the past year, leading many to believe he had moved on to greener pastures.  However, a few weeks earlier, Penkus and Vanthus were spotted at a boat shop called ‘It Still Floats’, where they were involved in an argument with the proprietor, a surly dwarf named Panchi.  

“Yeah…I remember’em all right,” the bald dwarf said, stroking his beard.  “Hoity-toity fella, and his low-life friend.  Tried to swindle me out of proper payment fer one of me fine vessels.”  
Thrisp looked about dubiously at some of those vessels.  Though they lacked actual holes, he seriously doubted many of them were seaworthy, much less ‘fine.’
“Did you end up doing business with them?”  Thrisp asked as he rolled a gold coin back and forth across his knuckles.
“As a matter of fact, I did,” Panchi nodded, eyeing the sparkling coin greedily.  “No one pulls one over on old Panchi, no sir!  They seemed awfully worked up about somethin’, and they loaded a bunch of lamp oil, lanterns and rope on board.  When they left here, they was headed west.”
“West?” Thrisp asked, lifting one eyebrow and looking at Samson.
“Parrot Island,” the dragon shaman answered.
“Yep, I guess they coulda’ headed there,” Panchi said, catching the gold coin Thrisp flipped him and biting down on it with his snaggle teeth.  “Don’t see why, though.  Those caves’ve been played out fer years.”  Satisfied that the gold was real, he quickly pocketed it and went back into his establishment, dismissing the group with a wave.
“What’s he talking about?”  Thrisp asked Samson.  “As far as I know, Parrot Island is just a hunk of rock out in the harbor.”
“You’re mostly right,” Samson replied, “but it used to be something more.  It was once a haven for smugglers, and rumor has it that it’s riddled with hidden tunnels and caves.  Sounds like Vanthus and his friend may have found a new use for them.”
“We’ll need a boat,” Gotr grumbled, “and I guess I’ll have to pilot it again.  Planning on stealing another one?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary this time,” Samson said.  “I think I can convince my old boss, Vico, to loan us one if he believes there might be profit in it for the Chult Trading Concern.  Hidden smuggling loot would just the sort of bait to dangle in front of him.”
“Fine,” Thrisp nodded.  “You and Sepoto go and talk to him.  Try to arrange it for tonight.  We’ll go back and report to Lavinia.”
_____________________________________________________

Lavinia sighed and sank back into her chair as Thrisp finished his report.
“It’s as I feared,” she said quietly.  “He’s gotten himself entangled with the sort of people who would kill him for a copper piece.”  She looked up at the trio standing before her.  “Please,” she whispered, “it’s more important than ever that you find him…soon.”
“We’ve already taken steps towards that end, my Lady,” Thrisp answered.  “Samson and Sepoto are securing transportation for us as we speak.  We plan to go to the island tonight.”
“Good,” she nodded.  “I’m glad you came back here before you left, for I have some people I want you to meet.  They might be of assistance to you.”  Lavinia then called for Kora, her halfling servant, and instructed her to bring their other guests.  The little woman bowed and scurried out, returning a short time later accompanied by two men.  The first was a human, dressed in the garb of an explorer, though the material seemed of much better quality than most such outfits.  He carried no weapons.  His piercing green eyes were set off by a shock of fiery red hair.  A glittering signet ring adorned one hand.  The second man was of obvious elven ancestry.  His clothes spoke of one more accustomed to soft living than manual labor.  His blonde hair was cut in the latest style, and he carried a finely crafted lute slung over one shoulder.  A rapier, which appeared more ornamental than practical, hung at his side.  

Lavinia stood as the men entered, and gestured first to the human.  “This is Lord Marius R’alan,” she said, and the man nodded.  Thrisp had heard of the R’alan family, a very minor noble house in Tashluta that barely merited the title.  “Marius is a member of the Seeker’s Lodge,” Lavinia continued.  “As you may be aware, the Seekers are a group of explorers who have a keen interest in archaeological treasures.  It seems my parents were members.  The Seeker’s symbol is the one that adorned my family vault.  Marius has informed me that the children of members are inducted into the Lodge on their twenty-third birthday.  My parents died prior to mine, so I never learned of their involvement, but the Seekers take care of their own.  They have sent Marius to me to lend his services in this time of trouble.  He will travel with you on your quest to find my brother.”  
Lavinia then turned to the half-elf, and it was obvious to Thrisp, Basil and Gotr that her expression warmed considerably as she introduced him.
“Allow me to also introduce Anwar Rosznar, late of Waterdeep.  Anwar is my seneschal…my personal advisor.”  Her eyes fairly sparkled as she spoke, and a faint smile curved her lips.  Basil glanced at Gotr, and the gnome rolled his eyes.
“Anwar will be my eyes and ears on your mission.  His word is my word.  Heed him as you would me.”  Her hand lightly stroked the bard’s arm, and he smiled indulgently at her, but when his eyes came back to the three companions, no mirth was in them.  They were as cold as ice.
“Just what we need,” Gotr mumbled, “some pet boy-toy to play chaperone.”
“Begging your pardon, my Lady,” Thrisp said, clearing his throat to cover the priest’s remark, “but may I ask exactly what skills your associates might bring to our group?  It would help us to know what strengths we may draw upon.”
Lavinia deferred to the two men.  “I have some skill in the arcane,” Marius said, “though my talents run toward the dramatic, you might say.”  Basil arched an eyebrow at this.  The man sounded like an evoker.  Their ilk were unpredictable, and as apt to be a danger to their friends as their enemies.
“My own abilities are more esoteric,” Anwar said, his false smile still in place.  “Strictly speaking, I am a musician, and a chronicler of heroic deeds.  Still, you may find that I can assist you in ways you might not expect.”
“I’m sure,” Gotr grumbled again.  
“It’s settled then,” Lavinia said.  “Anwar and Marius will join you tonight, and hopefully insure your success.”

Just then, there was a soft rap at the door, and Kora entered again.
“My Lady,” she bowed, “Masters Sepoto and Samson have returned.”  She stood aside as the goliath and the dragon shaman entered.  
“Everything’s in place,” Samson began, but when his eyes fell on the two strangers, he went silent.
“It’s ok,” Thrisp said, “Lady Vanderboren has arranged for further assistance for us.”  He made cursory introductions, and Samson and Sepoto nodded in acknowledgement.
“As I was saying,” the dragon shaman continued, “all is ready for tonight.  However, there has been a new development.”
Thrisp’s eyes widened slightly.  “What might that be?”
“I think it’s best if we show you,” Samson said cryptically.  
“Very well,” the gnome said, obviously having little patience for games.  “Basil, Gotr, wait here.”  He turned to follow Samson and Sepoto, but Anwar stopped them before they could leave the room.
“I think I’ll come with you as well,” he said.  “I feel the need to stretch my legs.”
Thrisp glowered, but said nothing.  He shrugged, and walked out the door.

When they stepped out of the manor and into the courtyard, Thrisp was surprised to see someone waiting for them there.  This was another half-breed elf, though that was the only thing he had in common with Anwar.  He was shifty-eyed and nervous-looking, with messy hair, and dirt under his fingernails.  He wore a ragged suit of leather armor, but carried no arms.  
“This is Shefton Rock,” Sepoto said.  “He approached us in Shadowshore.  Go on,” he gestured towards the man, “tell them what you told us.”
Shefton glanced about furtively and cleared his throat several times.  “I heard you was lookin’ for a fella named Vanthus,” he said quietly.  “I know where’s you can find’im, and I can take you there too.”
Thrisp eyed the man dubiously.  “Just where would you come by such information?” he asked at length, “And why would you be so magnanimous as to offer it to us?”
“I know people who know people,” Shefton replied, his eyes on his feet.  “I find out things, and then I sell the information to those what can pay.”
“Indeed,” Thrisp said, doubt in his voice.  “I ask again, where did you come by this particular information.”
Shefton scuffed his feet on the ground for several seconds, then cleared his throat again.  “This Vanthus fella, he came to me a few weeks back.  Said he needed help settin’ up a smugglin’ job in the old tunnels under Parrot Island.  Wanted to know if I wanted in.  I told him I weren’t interested, and that was that.  Then I got word some folks was askin’ around about Vanthus, and I figured you might be interested in what I know.”
Thrisp glanced at Anwar, whose face held no expression.  No help there.  Turning back towards Shefton, he uttered several arcane words, and then passed his hand before the half-elf’s face.  Instantly, Shefton’s eyes glazed over.  
“Now, my friend,” Thrisp said, smiling, and patting the man on the back, “let’s be truthful, shall we?  After all, you are among allies here.”  Shefton nodded like an eager puppy.  “Did Vanthus send you to us to set us up?” Thrisp asked without preamble.  Shefton looked shame-faced, his eyes downcast.
“I can’t lie to ya, Mister Thrisp,” he said.  “He told me to bring ya to the island.  He was plannin’ some kinda ambush for ya there.”
“I see,” Thrisp said, his voice kind.  “Do you know what sort of ambush he had planned?”
“No sir,” Shefton shook his head.  “He didn’t tell me that part.  Just said I should bring ya.  He promised to introduce me to some powerful friends of his if I did.  Said I’d be movin’ up in the world.”
“Of course,” Thrisp said in a tone of total understanding.  “You understand now, though, that he was lying to you, don’t you?”
Shefton looked unsure, “I…guess.”
“Come now!” the gnome said, patting his shoulder.  “You trust me, don’t you?”  Shefton nodded.  “Good, then trust me when I tell you that you were being set up just as we were.  Vanthus was making a fool of you.  It’s good that you came to us when you did.  Now we can turn the tables on him.”
At that point, fear entered Shefton’s eyes.  “He’ll kill me if he finds out I crossed’im.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Thrisp said reassuringly.  “He’ll never know.  In fact, you don’t even have to come with us.  Why don’t you just draw us a map to where these tunnels are?  You can do that, can’t you?”
Shefton nodded eagerly.  At that point, Anwar coughed loudly.  Thrisp looked up, and the bard jerked his head, nodding towards the foyer of the manor house.
“Samson and Sepoto here will find you some paper and ink,” the gnome said, rising.  “I’ll be back in just a moment to see how you’re progressing.”

Thrisp followed Anwar back into the house.  
“Well done out there,” the bard said once they were out of ear-shot.  “Lavinia will be pleased.  When that little worm is done with the map, he won’t be of any further use to us.”
Thrisp’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.  “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying he’s a loose end,” Anwar answered.  “A loose end we can’t afford to leave lying about.  Dispose of him.”
“You mean…kill him?”  Thrisp asked, struggling to keep the shock from his voice.
“Do you have a problem with that?” Anwar asked, arching his brow.  “This man was preparing to take part in a plot to kill you.  He’s a criminal.”
“Yes, but…I don’t know.”  Thrisp was truly at a loss for words.  Lavinia had not struck him as the cold-blooded sort.  How could she have involved herself with someone like this?  “Why can’t we just turn him over to the Watch?”  he asked after a moment.
“Squeamish, are you?”  Anwar sneered.  “That’s a trait that might get you into trouble some time.  Very well then, we’ll do it your way.”  Without another word, he walked past the gnome and back into the courtyard.
“Ah, splendid!” he said as he approached Shefton, who had finished the map.  The half-elf smiled sheepishly.  
“Sepoto,” Anwar said, turning to the goliath, “this man is a criminal, guilty of attempted murder.  Subdue him, while I alert the Watch.”
Both Shefton’s and Sepoto’s jaws dropped.  Quickly the goliath looked at Thrisp.  After a moment, the gnome nodded, then turned away.
“But…” Shefton began, but never finished as a chain-wrapped fist connected with his temple and he dropped as if pole-axed.
“Strip him,” Anwar commanded as he walked towards the front gate.  A Watch kiosk stood just across the street, and he strode over to it and blew the whistle that was attached there.  

By the time the Watch arrived, Sepoto and Samson had Shefton stripped, bound and gagged, though he was still unconscious.  
“It’s about time you arrived,” Anwar said indignantly as the patrolmen entered the courtyard.  “This ruffian climbed naked over the wall and attempted to break into Lady Vanderboren’s home.  Her private guards were forced to take action and subdue him when he refused to leave quietly.  My Lady’s taxes pay your salaries, as I’m sure you are aware.  She expects better from the city’s civil servants.  Is it not enough that she’s had to endure the loss of her parents?  Now common street vermin trespass in her home.  Is no one safe inside their own walls?”
The Watch commander apologized profusely, all the while urging his men to get Shefton off the grounds, which they did hastily under Anwar’s withering stare.  Once they were gone, the bard turned to address Thrisp, Samson and Sepoto.
“Good work, men.  I think we’ll work out just fine together, now that we understand each other.  I advise you to make what preparations you need before tonight.”  He nodded to them, and walked back into the house.
“I’m not sure we’re getting paid enough,” Thrisp spat as he watched the dandy go.
_____________________________________________________


Parrot Island was little more than a rocky outcropping surrounded by thirty-foot high cliffs, save for a narrow beach located at its eastern end.  It was thickly vegetated, with its trees serving as the roost for the hundreds of noisy, brightly colored parrots which gave the island its name.  When Gotr guided the launch to the beachhead, Anwar was the first ashore.  He was dressed in Shefton’s clothes, and had even died his blonde hair a greasy black.  If Thrisp hadn’t known it was him, he would have sworn he was looking at the unfortunate informant.  It was the bard’s idea to carry on with Shefton’s original plan of leading them into Vanthus’ trap, but with any luck, it would be the errant noble who would be snared.  Despite his misgivings about the half-elf, Thrisp had to admit that it was a sound strategy, and Anwar truly was a man of many talents.

Following Shefton’s map, they found an overgrown trail leading into the island’s interior.  It ended at a small clearing.  The map showed that there was a trap door at the southern end of the area.  Anwar pointed in that direction, as if he were showing the others where to look.  It didn’t take Thrisp long to uncover the wooden door, and when he opened it, he found a five-foot wide shaft leading down into darkness.  A rope hung from a hook in one wall, providing a relatively safe method of descent.  
“Let me go first.”  Anwar said.  “Vanthus is expecting to see Shefton, so we’ll give him what he wants.”  The bard dropped into the hole, descending rapidly down the rope.  One-by-one the others followed, with Thrisp bringing up the rear.
_____________________________________________________

Vanthus watched the party descend from his concealment.  Clever bunch, this group, but it was obvious that fool Shefton had failed.  Had it truly been the informant who led them to the island, he would have known exactly where the trap door was and wouldn’t have had to search for it.  The plan had been for him to remain above while he sent Lavinia’s snoops below.  The fact that Shefton had gone first, uncoerced, further confirmed to Vanthus that the real thief was probably dead.  No matter.  Astute though they may be, they had still played right into his hands.  Silently, he crept across the clearing.
______________________________________________________

The group found themselves in a low-ceilinged, cramped room.  A brick-lined tunnel with a curved roof led to the west.  There was no illumination, so Marius struck a torch.  Thrisp could tell the tunnel was old, but it appeared sound enough.  He nodded the all-clear to Anwar, and the bard moved to take the lead once more.  Suddenly, a hissing sound came from behind them.  As one they turned, just in time to see the rope come slithering down the shaft, cut from above.  A laughing voice called down to them:  “Nice try, lackeys!  Say hello to Penkus for me!”  Then came the sound of a solid thud…the trapdoor closing.  This was followed by a loud, grinding sound.  They were sealed in.

“Well I guess there’s no need for this any more,” Anwar said, shrugging off Shefton’s cloak.  
“Um…was this part of your plan?”  Basil asked.
“Obviously not,” Anwar snapped, “but it seems like the plan has changed.  I see only one way to go, unless you have some other suggestion.”
The young wizard remained silent.
“Anyone else?”  the bard said, his cold eyes meeting theirs.  “No?  Good.  That settles that.  Sepoto, lead on.”  
The goliath glared at the half-elf, but he was too busy to notice, dusting off his clothes and arranging his lute.  Sullenly, the crusader elbowed his way to the front and proceeded down the tunnel.

The twisting passage ended at a soggy, wooden door, swollen shut in its frame.  A strong shoulder-thrust by Sepoto forced the portal open, and a second, wider hall was revealed, this one running perpendicular to the one the group just came from.  At either end of this corridor was a pair of double doors, partially ajar.  Cautiously, Sepoto moved towards the right-hand pair of doors, the others following, and fanning out along the wide hall.  Just before the goliath reached the doors, he stopped abruptly, holding up one hand.  
“Did you hear that?” he whispered over his shoulder to Thrisp.  The gnome nodded.  He too had heard a soft shuffling noise coming from just beyond the doors.  Sepoto eased forward again, motioning for the rest to form up behind him.  When he reached the doors, he quickly grabbed the one that was partially open, and swung it wide.  The light from Marius’ torch partially illuminated a large, mostly empty chamber.  Several smashed crates, and the remains of over-turned furniture were scattered along the walls.  A second pair of half-open doors were in the far wall, while a closed, single door stood on the same side of the room as Sepoto, just a few yards north.  The goliath took in all of these details peripherally.  What drew most of his attention were the three figures standing motionless near the room’s center.  At first, he took them to be human, but as they lurched forward into the torchlight, he saw that whatever they may have been in life, they were now the walking dead.  They were dressed in rags, though one wore an eye patch, while a second bore a hook where its left hand was, and the third sported a peg leg.  All three of them had massively oversized jaws, and when they opened them, uttering low moans, row upon row of jagged teeth were revealed.

“Clear the doors!”  Marius shouted, and Sepoto quickly stepped aside.  Still holding the torch in one hand, the Seeker curled the other into a fist, and a ball of crackling fire appeared there.  Cocking his arm back, he hurled the sphere into the nearest zombie, which promptly ignited like a giant candle.  Yet on it still came.  Basil stepped beside Marius, drawing a slender wand from his sleeve.  He spoke a word, and a missile of light streaked towards the immolated, walking corpse.
“Gotr!” the wizard shouted over his shoulder.  “Can’t you do something about this?  I thought priests hated dead things that won’t stay dead!”
The gnome looked puzzled for a moment, and then looked down at the holy symbol which hung around his neck, as if he’d forgotten that it was there.  Stepping forward, he held it boldly out before him.
“In the name of Oghma, I command you to return to your eternal slumber!” he shouted.  The zombies quailed as the medallion flared with light, then they turned and began shambling towards the opposite side of the room.
“What do you know?”  Gotr said, staring at the holy symbol curiously.  “It actually worked.”

Sepoto shouldered past the gnome, uncoiling his chain as he went.  When the zombies reached the far doors, they began struggling to pull them open.  The goliath snapped the chain at the nearest one, ripping loose a hunk of putrid flesh.  From behind him came another sizzling bolt from Basil, and then Samson was at his side.  The dragon shaman swung his morningstar, connecting solidly with the skull of the zombie Sepoto had just hit, caving it in like a rotten melon.  The undead horror collapsed to the floor.  A moment later, its flaming companion crumbled as well.  The third zombie managed to get the door open, and began shuffling as fast as its peg leg could carry it down  the darkened hall beyond.

At that moment, more moans filled the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere.  When Samson and Sepoto looked back towards their fleeing quarry, they saw it disappear around a bend in the hall.  Another set of ajar doors stood in the right-hand wall just before the turn.  By this time, Gotr had joined the two warriors, his medallion still clutched in one hand.  Samson moved quickly to the nearby doors and peered in, but just as he did so, the portals were flung open.  Another trio of walking corpses stood just on the other side, their moans echoing down the hall.  
“In the name of…” Gotr said, stepping forward, but in that moment, one of the zombies lunged.  Unhinging its jaw, it fastened its teeth around the priest’s neck, lifting him, kicking from the ground.  Then the undead behind it seized the gnome’s foot, and sank its fangs into his ankle.  Gotr tried to scream, but only a gurgle came from his crushed windpipe.  

Thrisp, Marius and Basil began hurrying across the first chamber, but as they did so, they heard something heavy strike the single door behind them.  It shuddered in its frame, but held.  Anwar edged quickly to the far side of the room, unslinging his lute as he went.  Then, to the utter bewilderment of his companions, he began to sing.  The tune was not a familiar one, but his fingers picked at the strings of his instrument expertly, and Thrisp actually caught himself tapping one of his feet.  The words to the song said something about ‘not fearing the reaper,’ but the gnome couldn’t make much sense of the meaning.  Still, as the music swelled, he found some of his tension and fear leave him.  The others seemed to feel it as well, for he could see them relax visibly, the panicky edge leaving their eyes.  

Sepoto felt filled with energy.  He stepped forward towards the struggling Gotr, and to Samson’s watching eyes, everything seemed to move in slow motion.  The goliath spun himself in a full circle, his chain trailing him by a fraction of a second.  Its wickedly barbed end caught the zombie holding Gotr across the forehead, almost removing the top of its cranium.  As he struck, a rush of power like a warm, spring breeze pulsed for a brief moment, and incredibly, Gotr’s bleeding began to slow, though he still remained firmly in the grip of his assailant.  In fact, the zombie bit deeper into the gnome’s throat, shaking him in his mouth like a dog would a rat.  The second zombie still had the priest’s leg, and it tore a large chunk out of his calf.  Gotr went limp, his skin deathly pale.  Releasing its bite, the first zombie dropped him to the floor.  

Just then, the door in the first chamber splintered, and three more zombies spilled into the room.  They were followed by a fourth walking corpse, but this one did not move with the same shambling gait as the others, and it was dressed in rusted chainmail.  Around its neck hung a tarnished, silver disc which bore the symbol of a highway man’s mask.  Thrisp recognized it as the sign of Mask, god of thieves.  What had they stumbled into?  To his further amazement, the creature began to speak in a gurgling croak, chanting the words to a prayer of warding.  A corpse priest?  Things did not look good.  Still, the gnome thought, perhaps the trick he had used in the Vanderboren vault might serve him again here.  Quickly, he began the words to his spell, conjuring the image of an iron wall across the middle of the chamber, separating himself and his companions from the newly arrived undead.  He held his breath for a moment, but when he heard the roar of frustration from the priest, he knew his ploy had worked…at least for the time being.

The zombie that had bitten Gotr now lumbered towards Sepoto, but a flick of the goliath’s chain pulled the undead’s legs from under it.  It tried to rise, but Sepoto snapped his chain loose, and then flicked again, this time wrapping it around the zombie’s neck.  When he pulled it loose this time, the corpse’s head came with it.  Samson rushed into the gap and pulled Gotr to safety.  As he did so, a soft, golden glow surrounded the dragon shaman, flowing into the gnome.  To Samson’s immense relief, though his eyes remained closed, Gotr began to breath regularly again.

“How did you do that?”  Marius asked Thrisp as the gnome continued to concentrate on his figment.  
“Ancient gnomish secret,” Thrisp said through gritted teeth.  “Now watch my next trick.”  Before Marius’ eyes, the iron wall began to rust and pit, rapidly melting away until only iron bars remained, still holding the undead at bay.  
“You’ve see what I can do,” Thrisp snapped.  “Now show me some of your tricks.”  
A smile quirked on corner of Marius’ mouth, and he stepped forward, hands before him, fingers spread.  Suddenly, a fan of flames shot from his fingertips, flowing through the bars and engulfing all of the undead on the far side.  

Seeing that Gotr would be ok, Samson hefted his morningstar and rushed back to Sepoto’s side.  As a second zombie emerged into the corridor, he swung, crushing its clavicle.  The creature reeled to one side, where Sepoto smashed it back towards his comrade with a whip-crack of his chain.  As it careened towards the dragon shaman, he swung again, splattering what was left of the zombie’s brains against the wall.  Then he whirled to meet the charge of a third zombie, catching it with a glancing blow to the face just as it sank its teeth into his arm.  Samson cried out in pain, but Sepoto was already in motion, wrapping his chain around the creature’s neck and pulling it taut with a satisfying snap.

The undead priest was once a man named Veldimar Krund.  Years beyond counting ago, he had become trapped in the underground tunnels, along with several other members of his smuggling band, when a battle with a rival gang resulted in a collapse of the warren’s sea entrance.  It wasn’t long before their supplies ran out, and Veldimar and his companions resorted to cannibalism, turning on each other until only the priest remained.  Ultimately, he too perished in a gruesome attempt to amputate his own foot for a meal.  Upon his death, Mask cursed him and his cronies, returning them to a horrible half-life in which their hunger could never be sated.  Veldimar’s mind was mostly gone now, but he still retained a spark of intelligence…enough to realize that it was the gnome on the far side of the bars that had created the barrier in the first place.  Thus, it was him that Veldimar targeted with a spell designed to cause the recipient to flee in blind panic.  For a moment, Thrisp felt the fear wash over him, but then the strains of Anwar’s song emboldened him once more, and he held his ground.  Marius spoke the words to his spell again, and once more flames washed over Veldimar and his companions.  They were all horribly burned and even more disfigured than they had been before, but still they stood.  
“I’ve got your back,” Basil said from behind Marius, and he sent a volley of fiery missiles hurtling at Veldimar.  The priest was blown back several feet, where he collapsed against a wall, and did not rise again.
“Thanks,” the Seeker said, “but I had it under control.”  He spoke the words to a minor incantation, and one of the zombies simply exploded in a puff of dust and stale air.

With Samson’s help, Gotr staggered to his feet.  Clutching his amulet, the gnome began to pray, healing his wounds as he did so.  
“I’m fine,” he said, shrugging off the dragon shaman’s supporting hand.  Samson nodded, and turned back for the main chamber, Sepoto following.  When he entered the room, he saw the iron bars, but they looked somewhat misty and insubstantial.  It was then that he realized Thrisp was up to his old tricks.  Quickly he stepped towards one of the two remaining zombies and swung his weapon.
“No!”  Thrisp shouted, but it was too late.  As the morningstar passed through the bars, the illusion was pierced, and even the mindless undead could perceive that they were not real.  The cage dissipated as Thrisp lost his concentration.  Sepoto shoved past Samson just as the zombies surged forward.
“Oghma says, get the hell outta here!” came a raspy voice from behind the combatants, stopping the zombies mid-stride.  At once, they shambled away from the blazing light of Gotr’s holy symbol, heading back towards the ruined door through which they’d come.  As they retreated, Basil sent another missile from his wand into the back of the trailing one, and Samson grazed it with a parting shot from his morningstar.

“Um…fellas, you missed one!”  Thrisp called to his comrades as they pursued the fleeing undead.  From down the corridor where it had fled, came the other zombie that Gotr had originally turned.  It seemed to have overcome its fear of the gnome’s faith.  Once more Thrisp began to work his magic, this time creating the illusion of a solid, steel cube surrounding the zombie.  He could see through his own veils, and he smiled as he saw the undead turning round and round in a circle, unable to escape its imaginary prison.

The fleeing zombie found itself trapped in a small storage room with a sealed door on the far side.  As it cowered in the corner, Gotr strode casually up to it, and laid one hand on its forehead.  He spoke the words to the same healing prayer that had mended his wounds, but this time the magic proved lethal to the unliving corpse, searing the flesh from its bones, leaving nothing but a pile of ash.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Thrisp said to Basil and Marius.  Both wizards nodded and the gnome released his spell.  Before the trapped zombie could move, it was struck simultaneously by Basil’s magic missile and Marius’ disruption spell.  It never knew what hit it.
_______________________________________________________

When it seemed no more undead were coming, the company regrouped in the main hall they had first entered.  A thorough search of the eastern passage and the empty rooms there had turned up nothing, including no way out.  They then moved to the western doors and the chamber beyond them.  Four great wooden pillars rose to support the ceiling of the room, which sagged dangerously in places, and was thick with hanging strands of fungus.  Several doors lined the walls, including one to the west from behind which could be heard a muffled sloshing sound.  To the south, the ceiling had collapsed, leaving that part of the chamber choked with debris.  A rippling pool of water reached halfway into the room from the wall of stone and rubble.  It seemed that a wooden pier once extended into the pool, but all that remained were several rotting wooden pilings protruding from the water.  A man’s body floated face down among them.

This corpse proved to be well and truly dead, bloated by its time in the water, and half-eaten by scavengers.  A strange tattoo was visible on one, pale shoulder:  an intricate drawing of a dragon clutching a flower.  The rest of the room and pool were unremarkable, save for a colony of nasty-tempered crabs the size of cats which were quickly dispatched by Sepoto and Samson.  

The sloshing sound from beyond the western door came from the churning waters of a natural sea cave.  Fueled by powerful, submerged currents, the water lapped and splashed against the walls of the twisting natural tunnel which continued west.  A sandy slope descended from the door down to the edge of the subterranean tide.  Dozens of purple and red sea urchins glistened in the shallow divots along the ground and lower walls, their spines glittering with sea spray.  The group continued forward, wading through water than rapidly went from ankle deep, to well over their heads.  Some swam, while others walked along the bottom, weighed down by their armor and gear.  Soon they entered a large pool, which sloped gradually up towards  the west to a small, sandy area, and a locked door.  Samson and Sepoto made quick work of the barrier, revealing a small, dry room on the other side.  The smell from the chamber was horrific, a cloying stink of rotten meat rising from the bloated, seeping body slumped in the middle of the room.  The corpse’s dark, almost black flesh bulged against its armor, ready to burst at the slightest touch.  The same tattoo they had seen on the other body was barely visible on the shoulder of this one, and clutched in one hand was a crumpled scroll.

Again, the body was dead dead, and Thrisp pried the parchment free from its cold, hand with a look of disgust.  Unfolding it, he read it aloud:

‘These bones once be Penkus, so if ye read this, I be dead, laid low by the sick put on me by that foul, dead thing!  Yet even as me flesh wracks, know t’was not the dead what brought my doom, but one I ‘til recently called friend.
Vanthus Vanderboren!  Your name fills me with bile!  Spineless, treacherous cur!  You left us here to die.  You left ME here to die, after all what I done t’get ye into th’Lotus!  Yer designs on the Lady of the Lotus be clear now, and with meself out th’way…ye doubtless move even now into power, slithering amid my vacancy like a hermit crab in a shell, or a Kyuss worm to still warm flesh.  CURSE UPON YE!  
To th’one what reads this.  If ye have any honor or vengeance in yer soul, know that Vanthus must die.  He dwells in the lap o’th’Lotus, below th’Taxidermist’s Hall.  Seek him there, but ‘fore he dies, he must ken it were Penkus what undid him and guides yer killing blow. 
And if, by some cruel spite of fate, it be ye what read this, Vanthus, know with certainty I wait for ye in Hell, where I intend t’rival the pit itself in yer torment!”


----------



## demiurge1138

I do love how the note is, in fact, written in pirate-speak. As it should well be.

Demiurge out.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Aye! 

And kudos, as usual, for a chapter well written and nice actions by the players! Was it all you, JollyDoc, or was there really some roleplaying going on at the table?  I have two words to say to Anwar: neutral evil. 

Good catch with the trap, even if you ended up as the villain intended it. It's nice to see that you are resourceful even at the lower levels!


----------



## Joachim

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> And kudos, as usual, for a chapter well written and nice actions by the players! Was it all you, JollyDoc, or was there really some roleplaying going on at the table?  I have two words to say to Anwar: neutral evil.




No, that was actually roleplaying at the table.  Anwar (Gfunk) and Thrisp (me) are going to have an interesting relationship.


----------



## war wizard

Whoa! Wait! Stop! Hold on! And just one cotton pickin minute here…..  
Role-playing at JollyDoc’s table?  Horrors, say it aint so….

Repent! Repent! The end is nigh.  

Good update, speaking of the end is Red Hand MIA or DOA?


----------



## JollyDoc

war wizard said:
			
		

> Good update, speaking of the end is Red Hand MIA or DOA?




Well, we still play it whenever Gfunk is out of town, but I think any SH based on it will be about as likely as Hawk and Entropy settling down and producing little three-eyed aasimar sorcerer-paladins.


----------



## Hammerhead

Gfunk is playing a bard? I don't believe it. Is it some kind of impostor?


----------



## gfunk

Believe it!  Some more role-playing goodness this update!

*Sunday Night Update*
1. Thanks to some quick thinking and bizarre selection of known languages, our intrepid adventurers managed to extricate themselves from Parrot Island.
2. We quickly ask around town about the Lotus Dragon guild and are rewarded with a warning, "Mind your business, or else . . . "
3. Disguise skill + Bluff skill + Forgery skill = attempt to lure the bulk of Lotus Dragons out of their guildhouse 
4. The party commits their first act of cold blooded murder.  The slide to the darkside begins . . .
5. Search and destroy of the Lotus Dragon sewer begins in earnest.
6. Pinkus makes his triumphant return to wreak horrible revenge of Vanthus and his associates. ARRRRRRR!!!!!


----------



## gfunk

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Gfunk is playing a bard? I don't believe it. Is it some kind of impostor?




A Bard for a few levels at least.  Prepare to see the first Disciple of Baalzebub if he survives that long.  Not only that, you'll see some nice feats, spells, items, and prestige classes from the Book of Vile Darkness and Champions of Ruin appear with this particular party.


----------



## Supar

as far as the whole evil thing at the table goes all i have to say is JD should stop making it so danm profitable to kill


----------



## Tearlach

Hopefully some of the lads feel like sharing their stats, ala previous story hours too!

Thrisp and Gotr are my favs thus far.  But I am a Gnome lover <_<


----------



## Joachim

Thrisp is only the second gnomish character that I have made in over 20 years of gaming.  Thus far, he is showing immense potential to become the single most silly and simultaneously frustrating (to the DM, that is) character in the history of D&D, if he lives (not a sure thing)...if he survives I WILL LOVE IT!!

I will begin to post stats once he makes it to 5th or 6th level.  Too much about 'secret' stuff that Joe will want to dribble out as the story goes on would be revealed if I posted him now.  It's no secret to the players around the table, but it is to their characters and all of our faithful readers, so I will let JD keep you suspense for a little while longer...

Just know that he is a lesser deep gnome Beguiler 2 as of last night.


----------



## Schmoe

With the party being decidedly evil, it's going to be a lot easier for me to root against them.  I don't think I would personally get much satisfaction out of playing an evil character.  Even if you "win" at the end, is the world a better place?  It will be cool to see some of the Book of Vile Darkness in action, though.  I just know that if I were playing a Disciple of X, I'd probably be the Piffany version 

Still, I'm looking forward to seeing how it all plays out.  Good luck!


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Schmoe said:
			
		

> With the party being decidedly evil, it's going to be a lot easier for me to root against them.  I don't think I would personally get much satisfaction out of playing an evil character.  Even if you "win" at the end, is the world a better place?  It will be cool to see some of the Book of Vile Darkness in action, though.  I just know that if I were playing a Disciple of X, I'd probably be the Piffany version
> 
> Still, I'm looking forward to seeing how it all plays out.  Good luck!




Well I would not say Decidedly Evil(Except Anwar) we just feel that to get things done faster we do not need to set around and argue what is right and wrong. So I guess what I am saying is if it takes my Character commiting a Few minor Crimes   to stop the world from ending then so be it.


----------



## CrusadeDave

*Stuff*



			
				Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> Well I would not say Decidedly Evil(Except Anwar) we just feel that to get things done faster we do not need to set around and argue what is right and wrong. So I guess what I am saying is if it takes my Character commiting a Few minor Crimes   to stop the world from ending then so be it.




My old DM had a way of putting this a few years ago when we played an evil party for the first time:

"Saving the world is important because it's where you keep your stuff. Treat the people who are trying to destroy the world as if they were trying to steal or destroy all of your loot. Besides, if anyone's going to take over the world, it's going to be you, right?"


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

I am looking forward to Demogorgon vs. the Epic Beguiler !!! 

As to the neutral outlook on life, your group has always found creative ways of dealing with problems, even with the exalted characters. Remember in Shackled City, when you outsourced your evil prisoners to the upper planes?  I guess your next solutions will be a little more...practical.


----------



## JollyDoc

PENKUS’ REVENGE

A thorough search of the small room where Penkus met his end turned up a surprising find for the stranded company:  a small horde of forgotten smuggler’s loot.  Included among a tidy sum of loose gold coins and assorted gems was a small jade coffer.  Inside, resting on a tiny velvet cushion, was a light brown gemstone with a small piece of parchment tucked beneath it.  Thrisp read it aloud:

“He who breaks this stone shall command a servant of the Earth, but beware, the elemental may only be called once, and only for a short time.  Use it wisely.”

“An elemental!”  Basil shouted in excitement.  “It summons an elemental!”
“So?”  Gotr said, eyes narrowed.  “What good does that do us?”
“Don’t you understand?” the wizard laughed.  “Earth elementals can burrow through the ground!  It can help us get out of here, and I just happen to speak…Terran.”  He fairly beamed with pride.
Sepoto looked at him dubiously.  “You wouldn’t happen to be a follower of Grumbar, would you?”
“Who?” Basil asked, then shook his head.  “No, no.  It’s just that the little formal training I received in Calimshan was primarily from elementalists.  It was required that students be able to speak with any elementals they might summon, though I only got as far as Terran and Aquan before I…had to leave.”
“Excellent,” Anwar said, “so you’re not entirely useless after all.  Let’s go then, back to the entrance to this tomb.”

A short time later, they all stood once more in the clearing above the tunnels with dawn on the horizon.  The elemental had burrowed to the surface, removed the deadfall that Vanthus had stacked on top of the trap door, and held the rope while Sepoto climbed up, and then secured it in place.  All in all, Basil thought it had been one of his more ingenious ideas.  Perhaps that was why he was so crestfallen when the group trekked back down to the beach to discover what should have been a forgone conclusion:  their boat was missing.

“Samson,” Thrisp said, “we’re only about a hundred feet from shore.  Why don’t you swim across and head back to see your boss.  The Chult Trading Concern is only a couple of blocks down the dock isn’t it?”  
Samson made a sour face.  “There are a couple of flaws in your logic,” he said.  “First, you actually expect Vico Bevenin, the half-ogre, to just give me another boat after I tell him that I misplaced the one he loaned me last night.  Second, there’s the matter of the profit we promised him for investing in our little foray into the smuggler’s tunnels.  Unless you are planning on giving over some of that loot we found, we are otherwise empty-handed.  If it’s all the same to you, I think I am going to be avoiding Vico for awhile.”
“Hmm…I see your point.”  Thrisp said, considering.  “Gotr…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the other gnome grumbled, already stripping off his armor, “let the water rat do the swimming, get the boat and then bring it back here.  For Oghma’s sake!  You people live in this town just like I do!  You would think you would have noticed it’s a port city by now, and maybe have taken a few swimming or rowing lessons!”  The little priest continued his tirade as he waded into the water and swam for shore.  Within an hour, he was back, having hired a canal gondola to retrieve his companions.  Once the fare was paid, they made their way back to the Merchant’s District, and Vanderboren Manor.
___________________________________________

Lavinia was immensely relieved to see the group, especially Anwar (much to the disgust of the others at their semi-public display of affection).  She had feared the worst when they had failed to return the night before, but her relief was tempered by the news they brought…news of her brother’s attempt to trap and kill them.  
“And you say he may be in league with these Lotus Dragons?” she asked at length.
“I’m afraid so,” Anwar said, patting her hand.  “I have heard rumor of them.  They are a relatively new guild, but they appear to be more organized than most of the other groups that have been popping up over the past few years.”
“Will you seek them out?” she asked.
“In time,” Anwar replied.  “I think we need more information before we simply go knocking at their door.”
Lavinia was silent for several moments, then her eyes met Anwar’s, barely contained tears welling in them.  “Bring him to me alive if you can, but if he makes that impossible, promise me that his death will be swift and merciful.”
The bard lifted her hand to his lips.  “You have my word.”

As they prepared to take their leave, Lavinia stopped them with a surprised gasp.
“I almost forgot!” she said.  “The news is all over town!  Last night, Keltar Islaran, the harbormaster, the man Soller Vark was working for, was murdered!  The details are not clear, but word is that he was killed in his own bed, and his body was left in an especially gruesome state of evisceration.”
“Interesting,” Anwar said.  “Perhaps someone was unhappy with him after his man failed to deliver the goods they were smuggling.  The plot thickens.”
__________________________________________________

Thrisp continued to gain a grudging respect for Anwar, despite his personal misgivings about the man.  Disguising himself as a common street ruffian, the bard combed some of the seediest establishments in Shadowshore, guided by Samson and Basil.  The trio managed to discover several more interesting details about the Lotus Dragons, such as the fact that animal smuggling was a major trade for them, and the word was that they used some of the more exotic beasts as guardians for their guildhall.  In addition, it was rumored that the guild might have some sort of connection to at least one noble family, which might explain why the city Watch had not taken action against them.

However, despite keeping a relatively low profile, it seemed that the Lotus Dragons had informants of their own.  One evening, upon returning from a fact-finding mission, Anwar was surprised to discover a folded piece of parchment in the pocket of his cloak, which he was sure had not been there when he had dressed.  It read:  

“You are being watched by the Lotus Dragons.  Your questions will bring you misery…it’s best to sit back and let things happen as they will.  Further interference will only bring you tears.”

The bard was not a man to be easily intimidated, and the missive only served to give him fuel for a larger plan.  That same evening, after a brief tryst with Lavinia, he took a set of Vanthus’ clothes that had been left behind.  Darkening his hair once again, and donning a fake (but very realistic) goatee, he made his way to the Merchant District’s Watch station.
“I am Lord Vanthus Vanderboren,” he said perfunctorily to the Watch commander on duty.  The man practically fell over himself as he leaped to his feet.
“Er…yes Lord Vanderboren?  How can I help you?  Is this about the recent disturbance at your family’s estate?”
“Precisely,” Anwar answered.  “It has been brought to my attention that the trespasser you arrested was merely a down-on-his-luck commoner looking for food and clothing.  I think he meant no real harm, and my family has decided to drop all charges.  I would like him released immediately.”
“Of…of course, my Lord,” the commander stammered.  “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” Anwar nodded, “however, I would like to have a word with the man in private first, if you don’t mind.  I may be able to secure work for him, menial to be sure, but enough to keep him out of trouble.”
“As you wish, my Lord,” the watchman said as he hurried from behind his desk, fumbling for his keys.  He led Anwar to the holding cells, where he had a stool placed in front of Shefton Rock’s cell, and dismissed the guard.  “Call if you need anything,” he said, but Anwar motioned him on with a wave.  When Shefton rolled over on his cot and saw who was seated before him, his eyes went wide with terror.
“Lord…Lord Vanthus!”
“Shefton, Shefton,” Anwar tsked, shaking his head.  “You disappoint me.  Look at what’s become of you.  Did you really think you could stab me in the back and just walk away?”
“N..no, my Lord!” the informant wailed.  “Please!  I was bewitched!  Them that you sent me to find tricked me!  They used black magic on me, gods’ truth!”
“Be that as it may, Shefton,” Anwar said menacingly, “I gave you one simple task to do, and you completely botched it.  Still, I did manage to trap them in the tunnels, just as I’d planned, so things actually worked out…”  Shefton began to look slightly relieved, “until they escaped!”  The poor scoundrel nearly soiled himself.  
“But I am a forgiving man, Shefton,” the bard continued, “and I believe in second chances.  You would like a second chance, wouldn’t you?”
Shefton was on his feet, gripping the bars of his cell and pressing his face to them.  “Oh yes, my Lord!  I won’t fail you again!  I swear it!”
Anwar nodded.  “The task I have for you this time is simplicity itself.  All I require is that you deliver this note to the Lotus Dragons tonight.”  He pulled a sealed envelope from his cloak.
Shefton’s eyes grew wide again.  “But…my Lord…it was you who was going to introduce me to the Dragons.  I…I don’t know how ta find them!”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way,” Anwar said, rising to his feet and passing the note through the cell bars.  “If you don’t, by sunset tomorrow, you will be all out of chances, Shefton.  Do I make myself clear?”  Reluctantly, the informant nodded.  
“Guard!”  Anwar shouted.  “Release him as soon as possible.”
_____________________________________________

“So…explain this to me again,” Thrisp said, a confused expression on his face.
“Don’t you see?” Anwar replied, exasperation in his tone.  “I forged Penkus’ handwriting and his signature.  The letter I gave to Shefton implicates Vanthus in an attempt to overthrow the power structure of the guild.  I requested that as many representatives from the guild meet tomorrow at one of the abandoned warehouses along Swamp’s Edge Way in Cudgel District.  The Taxidermist’s Guild is on the other side of town, in Sunrise.  With any luck, when we pay our visit to the taxidermist, most of the Lotus Dragons won’t be home.  That will give us more time to search for Vanthus.”
Thrisp shook his head, half dubious, and half impressed.  He looked at the others, and saw no dissent in their eyes.
“Well,” he said at length, “it’s not as if we have a better plan.  Eight tonight, you say?”
“Yes,” the bard replied.  “We’ll get there a bit early and see if we notice any activity.  At eight sharp, we pay our respects to the Dragons.”
_____________________________________________________

Nemien Roblach had closed up shop for the night, and was busy in his workroom on his latest project, a partially completed stuffed jaguar on commission for the church of Tempus, when he heard something heavy strike the door which led outside to Dead Dog Alley.  Fear was not what he immediately felt.  Nemien was nothing if not a realist, and he knew that his association with the Lotus Dragons would make him a target for their enemies.  It was probably only a matter of time before a rival guild found out his secret.  Calmly, he rose to his feet and moved to the far side of the room, where he quietly opened the door leading to an interior corridor.  He moved down the hallway and around a corner, where he could still see the door leading to the workroom.  Then he began to work his magic.  First, he murmured a quick enchantment which rendered him invisible.  Next, he spoke the words to another incantation, creating a perfect image of himself standing at the door, as if he had just opened it and was preparing to flee down the hall.  Then he simply waited.
_________________________________________________

Sepoto gave the crowbar one last heave, and the door splintered.  In a flash, Gotr rushed past him, dropping to one knee, a pure white arrow knocked in his bow.  He saw the human across the room turn in the doorway, and he loosed his string.
“Don’t kill him!”  Thrisp shouted from behind him, but the priest ignored him.  He knew what he was about, but his eyes still widened when the Sleep arrow passed right through the fleeing man as if he didn’t exist, which a moment later Gotr realized, he didn’t.  The image became transparent and then faded.  A damned illusion!
At that moment, Anwar entered, this time dressed as the dead pirate Penkus.
“What’s all this then?” he shouted.  “Ye damn, bloody mercs!  Can’t ye even follow simple orders?”  He strode purposefully across the room to the door, and looked out into the hall.  Though he saw no one, he heard a faint scuff of a boot from around a far corner.
“Taxidermist!”  Anwar snapped.  “It be me, Penkus.  Yaaarr!  Don’t ye recognize me?”  Silence greeted him for a moment, then an uncertain voice answered.
“Penkus?  I heard you were dead…”
“And so ‘twould’a been if not fer this seedy lot o’blood suckin’ mercs!  Freed me from Vanthus death trap, so they did!  Owe’em me very life, just like I owe me old pal Vanthus a knife in th’heart!”
“Look,” Nemien answered, still unseen, “I don’t want any part of this.  You know I’m just a go-between.  I won’t be involved in any in-fighting or power-plays.  Leave me out of this!”
“An’ so I will,” Anwar replied, “Just open th’door to the guild, and I’ll be on me way.”
Again, a momentary silence, and then, “Why don’t you open it?  It’s right behind you?”  Anwar glanced quickly behind him, but saw only a blank wall.  The door was hidden.  The bard thought quickly.  “So it is!  Me memory’s gone a bit mushy, what with spendin’ two weeks underground wit th’walkin’ dead!  You try eatin’ one o’yer own men, and see if ye’re thinkin’s still straight!”
Nemien had no reply to that.
“Oy!  Wizard!  Find th’ blasted door, and be quick about it, or ye’ll be feelin’ me boot in your arse!”  Anwar commanded Basil.
“Aye, aye Cap’n Penkus,” Basil said is his best pirate accent.  Anwar frowned at the pathetic attempt and made a slashing movement across his throat.  Basil nodded, taking the hint to get down to business.  Quickly, he drew a scroll from his belt, unfurled it, and read the spell printed there.  Immediately, his eyes picked out the glowing outline of the hidden door in the wall behind the bard.  Stepping past Anwar, he touched a concealed stud, and the panel slid aside, revealing another hallway beyond it, which ran to a dead-end with a trapdoor in the floor.

One by one, the members of the group filed past Anwar and into the hidden corridor, with Thrisp bringing up the rear.  As the gnome approached the bard, the half-elf whispered something in a language Thrisp had not heard since his father’s death…Undercommon.
“No witnesses,” is what Anwar had said.  Thrisp paused, and looked towards the far end of the hall, where he knew the taxidermist was still hiding, watching them.  He wasn’t sure if the bard meant for him to kill the other man, and he was unsure if he was willing to do so anyway.  Their ruse had worked, but Anwar had a point.  As soon as they were through the trapdoor, Nemien was sure to be off to tell whatever Lotus Dragons were still in the area about their visit.  Making up his mind quickly, Thrisp cast his spell.  A moment later he heard the loud thud of a body striking the floor.  
“Well done,” Anwar said.  “Did you kill him?”
“No,” Thrisp replied.  “He’s only asleep.”  
“An easy kill still,” said the bard.  “Finish him.”  By this time, the other members of the party had come to a halt, puzzled at the turn of events.
“What’s goin’ on back there?” Gotr shouted.
“Just tying up a few loose ends,” Anwar answered.  “Thrisp has pacified the taxidermist.  I was just telling him to finish the job.  As the old pirate saying goes, ‘dead men tell no tales.’”
Gotr shrugged, “Can’t argue with you there.  Make it fast, and let’s get moving.”
“Wait a minute!” Thrisp said indignantly.  “Why do we need to kill him?  We can tie him up securely, and make sure he won’t be going anywhere to warn anyone anytime soon.  What’s the point in murdering him?”
Anwar sighed, “This again.  I really cannot believe that you are standing here telling me that you have some moral compunction about killing a man who is in league with a band of cutthroats and thieves, a leader of which just tried to kill us two days ago.  You heard what Lavinia said about the harbormaster.  Do you think that was a coincidence?  And what about the note I received?  Come on man, where not talking about innocents here!”  Thrisp lowered his eyes, still obviously undecided on the matter.
“Fine,” Anwar huffed, “let’s do this the democratic way.  Let’s vote on it.  I say kill him and have done with it.  That way we can be certain he won’t reveal anything.  Gotr obviously agrees with me.  Sepoto?  What say you?”
The goliath rubbed his chin for a moment before answering.  “By law, we should turn this man over to the Watch for his affiliation with a known thieve’s guild.  However, by some of the rumors we’ve heard, a noble family, and by extension some of the Watch themselves may actually be in collusion with the Lotus Dragons.  We can’t be certain he will meet proper justice.  These people operate outside the law, and have no respect for it.  They are anarchists, and thus should be quelled and dealt with harshly.  I have no objection to summary execution.”
“A bit long-winded,” Anwar chided, “but I’ll take that as a yes.  Basil?”
The young wizard shrugged.  “Where I come from, it’s kill or be killed.  You go showing mercy to your enemies, and pretty soon you wind up in a gutter with your throat slit.  Do unto others before you get done unto, I say.”
“Samson?” Anwar asked, eyeing the dragon shaman.
“I understand the brutality and the nature of tribal warfare,” he answered, “but I’ve also seen enough death in my time to make me have no love of dealing it out lightly.  Let him live.”
Anwar waved dismissively at him.  “Marius?”
“I have no opinion,” the Seeker answered in a bored tone.  “Do as you will.”
“You’re outvoted Thrisp,” Anwar sneered.  “Do you have anything more to add?”
Thrisp shifted his eyes again, and then nodded.  “If it’s to be done, then do it quickly, but I won’t deliver the blow.”  Anwar raised one eyebrow to Sepoto.  The goliath shrugged and walked down the hall until his feet stumbled against something unseen lying on the floor, and he heard a soft grunt.  Reaching down, he found Nemien’s head, raised one chain-wrapped fist, and brought it down with a sickening squelch.
_________________________________________________

“Was that last part really necessary?” Thrisp asked as the last of the group descended the wooden ladder leading from the trapdoor above.  He was referring to a note, written in Nemien’s blood, that Anwar had left pinned to the dead man with a dagger.  It read:  ‘Nobody crosses Penkus and lives!  Yaaarrr!”
“All part of my plan,” the bard laughed.  “If we play our cards right, we’ll have these rogues tearing each other’s throats out.”

The company found themselves in a natural passageway.  Moisture dripped from the walls to pool on the rough floor, draining in tiny rivulets away to the east.  A wooden door, slightly ajar, stood to the west.  Thrisp shook his head at Anwar’s logic, and crept quietly to the door.  Peering beyond it, he could see a second hall, running north and south.  Motioning for the others to hold their position, he opened the door further, and darted out.  Immediately to the north, he could see an open door leading to what seemed to be a small empty room.  A closed door stood on its far side.  To the south, the hallway ran for a few yards before turning west.  Quickly, the little gnome moved to the corner, clinging to the shadows, but as he did so, his foot inadvertently splashed through a small puddle.
“Who goes there?” came a voice from the room to the north.  Before Thrisp could answer, he heard Anwar shout.
“It be me!  Penkus!  Returned from th’dead to seek me revenge!  Give up that scurvy cur Vanthus, and I’ll be on me way!”  

At that moment, Sepoto stepped into the hall, and there was an instant snap-twang of bow strings.  Two small darts flew from the room, where two figures could now be seen moving in the shadows.  Both bolts went wide, snapping against the wall.  Instantly, Thrisp stepped from around the corner, and spoke the words to another Sleep spell.  Both figures toppled.  They were both human, dressed in leathers, and armed with rapiers, hand crossbows, and saps.  Each bore the now familiar Lotus Dragon tattoo on one shoulder.
“Kill one of them,” Anwar ordered Sepoto, “but leave the other for questioning.”  This time, there was no debate.  The goliath dispatched one of the sleeping men with brutal efficiency.  Anwar then stepped over the other, and roughly kicked him in the ribs.
“Look on yer death, dog!” the bard laughed as the man opened his shocked eyes.  “Penkus’come fer ye!”
“Ye’re not Penkus!” the man spat.  “Vanthus told us to expect ye, and that ye’d be tryin’ this trick!”
“It’s yer own choice then,” Anwar said.  “Talk or die!”
“Help! Help!” the man began shouting.  Gotr quickly knocked an arrow, drew back and fired into the rogue’s chest at point-blank range.  Spitting blood, the thief sagged into unconsciousness, but that wasn’t enough for Anwar.  Drawing a dagger, he seized the man’s hair, and quickly cut his throat.  He then wiped the blade clean on the guard’s sleeve before sheathing it.
“Let’s move,” he said.  “I’m sure others heard his warning.  We have to work fast.”

Beyond the northern door of the guard room, they entered another hall, running east to west.  In both directions it branched.  Randomly choosing, they proceeded east to the first intersection, where a short passage ran north before reaching a dead-end.  Something about the stonework didn’t seem quite right to Thrisp, however, and within moments, he determined that a hidden door was concealed there.  On the other side of this portal was a domed chamber which sported a wooden ladder leading up to a trapdoor in the ceiling.  Two doors, both ajar, lead from the chamber, one north, and one west.  
“I think we’re under one of the warehouses near the taxidermist’s shop,” Thrisp said.  “I’ll bet there are several hidden entrances to this warren.”

They chose the western door, finding beyond it an angular passageway which ended at another door about a hundred-feet away.  Halfway down, in the north wall, two arrow slits pierced the stone.  Thrisp moved ahead of the others and cautiously peered through the first one.  He found himself gazing down into a circular cavern, most of which consisted of a large pool of brackish looking water, its surface greasy with filth and rotting seaweed.  Dripping lead pipes protruded from the walls of the twenty-foot high room, including one that was nearly two-feet in diameter to the east.  A five-foot wide hole in the ceiling seemed to lead up to the surface.  To the west and south was a five-foot wide beach of grit and gravel.  A narrow tunnel lead up at a shallow angle to the west and out of sight.

Noting nothing moving within the chamber, Thrisp motioned the others forward, and continued on.  The far door led to another of the circular, domed chambers, again with a wooden ladder in the center leading to a trapdoor in the ceiling.  Only a single door exited this room to the west.  A short hall on the other side ended in a blank wall.  Once more, Thrisp’s gnomish knack for stonework allowed him to note the discrepancy in the wall where another hidden door was concealed.  Beyond this door was a five-foot drop into a natural tunnel…the same one Thrisp had noted that exited the cistern he had overlooked.

Sepoto leading this time, the company dropped into the passage, and made their way carefully towards the pool.  No sooner had the goliath entered the chamber, however, than the large pipe at the far end began gushing water.  Simultaneously, a crossbow bolt seemingly appeared out of thin air, and buried itself in the crusader’s shoulder.  Meanwhile, at the back of the group, Gotr, Anwar and Marius heard a loud clanking of metal, followed by a deafening roar.  Quickly, the trio hoisted themselves back up the ledge and into the hidden hall, while Samson and Sepoto backed slowly towards them, watching both directions.  The roar sounded again, much closer this time, and from around a bend in the western passage, came the largest crocodile the warriors had ever seen.  It was so huge, in fact, that it was forced to squeeze its bulk through the narrow hall.  A metal collar was fastened around its neck, with a loose length of chain dangling from it.

Samson went into a defensive crouch before the reptile, blocking its path to the raised passage and his friends.  Sepoto moved rapidly to his side, uncoiling his chain as he came.  As the crocodile opened its great jaws to lunge at the dragon shaman, the goliath snapped his chain out, impaling its barbed end in the roof of the crocodile’s mouth.  Roaring in pain, the animal pawed at the cruel hook, but could not get it loose. 
“Incoming!” came a shout from behind the warriors.  Both ducked instinctively as a flaming orb, hurled by Marius, flew over their heads, striking the crocodile squarely between the eyes.  It’s entire head was instantly engulfed, the fire burning to the bone.  Soon, the smell of charred meat filled the passage, and the behemoth collapsed.

“Wait here,” Samson said, motioning to the others.  “I’m going back to the pool to see if I can sense anything.”  The dragon shaman moved slowly back down the hall, staying within sight of Sepoto.  No sooner had he made the entrance of the chamber, however, than two more bolts whizzed passed him, this time coming from an arrow slit to his right, and one straight ahead.  Realizing the significance of this, he turned and shouted back down the passage, “They’re moving in from behind!  Watch your backs!”

When Basil heard Samson’s warning, he was already making his way back to the arrow slits to see if he could get a better vantage point on their sniper.  Instead, he found himself face-to-face with another member of the Lotus Dragons.  The rogue got off one shot before the wizard went stumbling back down the passage, shouting for the others.  He nearly ran into Gotr coming the other way in his haste.
“Slow down, ya pansy!” the gnome snarled.  “I thought you were supposed to be some sort of dealer in arcane destruction.  You runnin’ from one lousy sewer rat?”  Just then, a bolt sprouted from the priest’s back, and his eyes went wide.  A moment later, he doubled over, clutching at his stomach and heaving his guts out.  The Lotus Dragon rogue calmly stepped around the corner, and reloaded his crossbow.  
“You don’t want to do that, friend,” Thrisp said, moving his hands in a complexity of gestures.  Basil looked noticeably relieved when he saw the slack-jawed expression come over the rogue.
“I don’t want to do that,” the man said numbly.
“We’re all friends here,” Thrisp continued, amiably.  “Why don’t you go on with Basil here, and we’ll just sit down and talk out this little misunderstanding.”  The rogue nodded, and lowered his weapon.
“Take Gotr with you,” Thrisp told the wizard, and Basil looped one arm around the priest’s shoulders and guided him back towards the party with the rogue following close behind.

“Lars!” came a voice just around the corner from Thrisp.  “Where the hell ye goin’ man?”  A bow string snapped, and a bolt zipped just inches away from Thrisp’s scalp.  He saw the second thief moving back behind the wall, but the gnome was a fraction of a second faster.  His hand movements commanded the human’s attention, and in moments, Thrisp knew the rogue was under his thrall.
“Lars is just fine,” he said.  “In fact, why don’t you go see for yourself?  He’s waiting for you just down the hall.”  The man nodded, and walked purposefully past the gnome.  Thrisp turned to follow.  When he reached the domed chamber, he found the rest of the group gathered curiously around the two men.  
“It’s under control,” the beguiler said when he saw the tense looks on the faces of his companions, and the way some of them gripped their weapons.  Gotr, however, was still puking in the corner.
“Watch out!” Sepoto shouted, and he roughly shoved Thrisp to one side, just a dart whizzed past where he’d been standing a moment before.  A third rogue had snuck up on them, but having seen the numbers of his opposition, he decided discretion was the better part of valor.  He turned, making a break for the hallway, but Sepoto was on him, his chain wrapping around the man’s legs, and jerking him to the floor.  As the rogue rolled and tried to climb to his feet, the goliath snapped his neck.

“Don’t ye be worryin’ about him none,” Anwar said, draping one arm companionably around Lar’s shoulders.  “He was obviously takin’ in by that rat Vanthus.  Why don’t you two come sit over here and tell yer Uncle Penkus all about how that mangy maggot tricked ye inta believin’ I was dead and buried?”
“He told us ye were dead,” the one called Lars said.  “He also told us that strangers had been pokin’ their noses inta our business, and that that rat Shefton was in cahoots wit’em.  So we killed the filthy traitor, and put th’whole place on alert.”
“What exactly is your business?” Thrisp asked, sitting down next to the man.  “Just what are you up to here?”
Lars smiled a gap-toothed grin, and leaned over conspiratorially, “The Dragon Mistress is takin’ over all the shippin’ in Tashluta.  We’ll be controllin’ the city’s entire sea trade!”
“The Dragon Mistress?” Thrisp said.
“Lady Lotus,” Lars answered.  “It’s her what calls the shots…her and her lieutenants, Vanthus and Kersh Reftun.”
“I see,” Thrisp nodded.  “How many of you are there here?”
“Bout two dozen, all told,” Lars said.  
“Can you give us a layout of the guild?” Thrisp asked.  “Vanthus really has set you all up, and we’re here to help your mistress, but we need to know where your forces are concentrated, so we can avoid them and any unnecessary bloodshed.”
“Aye, I can draw ye a map,” Lars said, “but there’s some places only the chiefs’re allowed.  Never been there.”
“Just do what you can then, my friend,” the gnome said encouragingly, “we’ll take care of the rest.”


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Brilliant! Thrisp and Anwar make a "softer" appraoch much more successful than in the other parties. This gives the party even more of a strategic edge than usual. I only hope that the party can still pack enough punch in situations where tough conflict cannot be avoided.

This vote on killing the taxedermist gave a good impression of their characters. Though Anwar doesn't care about the lives of his enemies, he does not want to do the dirty job himself. Nice guy.


----------



## Joachim

Slight correction:  After hearing Anwar's description of the potential profit of killing the mage and looting his corpse/house, Thrisp voted to kill him.  It was not an emphatic 'thumbs down', but after seeing how much loot the illusionist had it's going to be a lot easier decision for our beguiler in the future.


----------



## Joachim

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Brilliant! Thrisp and Anwar make a "softer" appraoch much more successful than in the other parties. This gives the party even more of a strategic edge than usual. I only hope that the party can still pack enough punch in situations where tough conflict cannot be avoided.




Between Basil (going to be a Master Specialist Abjurer / Initiate of Sevenfold Veil), Marius (Bloodline of Fire Warmage), and Sepoto (Goliath Crusader), this group is going to be just fine when it comes to damage through the lower levels.  In the higher levels (12+), if Thrisp survives he is going to be very capable in that regard as well, on top of being nondetectable by anyone and having access to all those wonderful enchantment / illusion spells.


----------



## Hammerhead

Anwar is quite clever...even if he is just a bard. 

Unfortunately, I'm currently playing a Warlock called Marius, so every time I read that name I don't think of the warmage.


----------



## gfunk

Anwar is the first PC (perhaps ever) that I made for purely role-playing reasons.  I suppose he's a decent bard build, but he doesn't take advantage of heavy multi-classing, exotic races, and is not looking to go into a Sublime Chord type PrC.

I wanted to take advantage of seldom used skills in our campaign like Forgery, Disguise, and even Bluff.  After I rolled him up I found myself asking, "is this guy going to survive for a few levels?"  I trust the min-max prowess of my compatriots to make that happen.  Also I wanted to make a truly evil character that not only does evil things (which anyone can do) but actually manipulate others into doing his dirty work and seeing things his way.  He would be a great campaign NPC if he survives.  Hopefully if he kicks the bucket (likely) perhaps the collective readership can force JD's hand for a "resurrection."

I would post the build but I'm a little sheepish.  After all the outrageous stunts you've seen me pull in the past it seems a little lacking.  Even Joachim decried my poor feat selection during the last game


----------



## Joachim

gfunk said:
			
		

> Even Joachim decried my poor feat selection during the last game




I believe that my exact quote was, "You picked WHAT?!?!"


----------



## Rafa

Of course, you realize that with a comment like that, we have to see the build now.  I mean, what exactly could he have picked?  Toughness?  Combat Casting?  Skill Focus(Craft: Pottery)? Enquiring minds want to know!


----------



## Hammerhead

Probably something like Persuasive.


----------



## Rafa

Sure, if you want to put forward a reasonable hypothesis...


----------



## gfunk

Deceitful actually . . . 

*Sunday Night Update*

1. The return of the good, old-fashioned dungeon crawl.  The party clears the Lotus Dragon guild room by room by room . . .

2. Of course to keep things interesting, we attempt to assume the identities of those we slay.  And we have fun with torture devices . . .

3. We meet Ferox's replacement and recruit him to our cause.

4. We finally meet the Guildmistress and listen to her offer and consider it . . . seriously.


----------



## Schmoe

gfunk said:
			
		

> Deceitful actually . . .
> 
> *Sunday Night Update*
> 
> 4. We finally meet the Guildmistress and listen to her offer and consider it . . . seriously.




Well, I can't say this was unexpected.  

As for Anwar - assuming you are, indeed, enjoying being a manipulative b@st@rd, I think you will be quite happy with your character for at least the next couple of adventures.  I also think that the power of social and deception skills is significantly underrated by the typical power-gamer crew.  The latest writeup is a great example of how effective they are.


----------



## hbarsquared

Amazing update!

I really admire the interplay between Anwar and Thrisp.   Even though it may not be an entirely accurate portrayal of the game, in terms of the story I really like how these two disagree and butt heads.

I _love_ the alternate solutions that gfunk and Joachim are coming up with, and successfully showing how enchantment and Disguise can accomplish much.

And then there's this:







			
				gfunk said:
			
		

> 4. We finally meet the Guildmistress and listen to her offer and consider it . . . seriously.



Just in case, this is not for player's in JollyDoc's game and anyone not interested in spoilers...
[sblock]Considering that the Adventure Path actually takes this into account, I would love to see a Savage Tide story hour that perhaps takes this turn.  I've read all of the subsewuent adventures in _Dungeon_, and was pleased to see the sidebars detailing this alternate version.

Looking forward to either decision the PCs make!  [/sblock]


----------



## JollyDoc

EDITOR'S NOTE:  I have updated the information in the Dramatis Personae section of my first post, and will continue to do so as the roster changes.


----------



## hbarsquared

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> EDITOR'S NOTE:  I have updated the information in the Dramatis Personae section of my first post, and will continue to do so as the roster changes.




Would it be possible to include the player's names and usernames, as well?  I get mixed up sometimes who is playing who.


----------



## gfunk

gfunk=Anwar
Joachim=Thrisp
Supar=Basil
Ika_Greybeard=Sepoto
R-Hero=Gotr


----------



## Zaruthustran

From what book is the Crusader class, and what's their basic deal?

And gfunk, don't worry about power. With Complete Adventurer, a few other WotC books, and masterwork instruments, bards can kick butt. Inspire Greatness (+6attack/+6 dam) FTW!

Oh, and definitely consider going Mindbender for one level. The telepathy ability lets you communicate with (and therefore Bluff, Diplomacize, etc) anything with a language. Much more efficient than spending ranks on languages, or fussing with spells (Comprehend Languages and Tongues both require a touch). If your schtick is talking with folks it makes sense to pick a path that lets you get on with the talking. 

-z


----------



## JollyDoc

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> From what book is the Crusader class, and what's their basic deal?




Crusaders come from the Book of Nine Swords.  As for what their basic deal is...that's like asking what's the basic deal with calculus.


----------



## Rafa

From wizards.com's discussion of BoNS:

Crusader: The crusader is one of the three martial adept standard classes described in Chapter 1. Crusaders are warriors who use their devotion and zeal to power martial maneuvers.

Oh, and the basic deal with calculus is investigating the rate at which things change, and learning how such knowledge can be useful from both a theoretical and applied perspective.  Or so my professors keep telling me.


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

ummm Crusader's hit stuff and special things Happen. That is all I know  

Really it is too hard or wild to explain (atleast for me) all there is about the crusader and all they can do especially in a written form unless I could copy and paste the book. 

Lets just say BONS gives a martial Character a little more utility to help heal him and his allies and do different abilities other then just hitting stuff.


----------



## Joachim

Rafa said:
			
		

> Oh, and the basic deal with calculus is investigating the rate at which things change, and learning how such knowledge can be useful from both a theoretical and applied perspective.  Or so my professors keep telling me.




Egghead in the HIZZOUSE!!


----------



## Hammerhead

Aren't you supposed to be some kind of engineer? And all your friends are doctors?

I'm pretty sure you're all eggheads.


----------



## JollyDoc

Yeah, but I'm a doctor, specifically a pediatrician.  To quote from the House of God (a must read for anyone in the medical profession), a cardinal rule of medicine is "Do as much nothing as possible."


----------



## gfunk

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Aren't you supposed to be some kind of engineer? And all your friends are doctors?  I'm pretty sure you're all eggheads.




1 doctor, 1 doctor/scientist, 1 engineer, 1 MBA . . . definitely eggheads.  But I still can't figure out the Crusader mechanic -- Ika might be making the whole thing up, I don't know.


----------



## Rafa

Joachim said:
			
		

> Egghead in the HIZZOUSE!!




Math egghead with a side of literature, that's me.



			
				gfunk said:
			
		

> 1 doctor, 1 doctor/scientist, 1 engineer, 1 MBA . . . definitely eggheads. But I still can't figure out the Crusader mechanic -- Ika might be making the whole thing up, I don't know.




I.  Am so.  Jealous.  And isn't half the fun in the D&D rules making stuff up, only to find out you were doing it all wrong later?  :-D


So looking forward to the next part of the story...can't wait!


----------



## JollyDoc

A QUESTION OF LOYALTY

Anwar looked with interest over Lars’ shoulder as the rogue finished the map.  
“So ye say the bulk o’the guards are waitin’ here, in th’holdin’ area, and here in th’trainin’ room?”
“Yes,” Lars nodded, eyeing the bard suspiciously and then looking to Thrisp for approval.
“And what about th’leaders?” Anwar asked.  “Ye said that rat Vanthus was hold up som’eres with th’Dragon Lady, but what about this other feller, Reftun?”
“I thought ye said ye were Penkus,” Lars said skeptically.  “How come ye don’t remember all this yerself?”
“Arrrr!” the bard snapped.  “I told ye once already!  Try feedin’ on yer own lads fer two weeks and then come back here and draw tha’ same map, ye lubber!”
Lars gulped, and pointed to another spot on the diagram.  “Reftun’s here…in th’interrogation room.  He’ll be havin’ one o’the boys with’im.”
“Describe’im t’me!” Anwar demanded, and the shaken rogue did so, though not with as much detail as the bard would have liked.
“Can ye tell us anythin’ else that might be helpin’ lad?”
Lars thought for a moment then shook his head.  When he did, Anwar turned to the others.  “Kill them,” he commanded.

Instantly Thrisp’s enchantment was broken, and the two thieves went for their rapiers.  Sepoto was faster.  One swipe of his chain cracked the ribs of Lars’ companion, sending him to the floor wheezing and coughing up blood before he went still.  Lars himself was surrounded on all sides, but it was an arrow from Anwar’s own bow that took him in the throat and ended his lawless days.
“I say we find Kersh Reftun first,” Anwar said, shouldering his bow.  “Perhaps with a little persuasion, or manipulation, we might be able to use him to our advantage.”  The others agreed and, following the map, made their way around the area the Lotus Dragon members called the Crucible until they finally stood outside a secret door which Lars had indicated led to Reftun’s chambers.

After a nod from Thrisp that the door was safe, Samson touched the hidden stud which caused the portal to pop open.  The purpose of the macabre room on the far side was obvious.  A stretching rack dominated the northwest corner, and an open iron maiden stood in the southeast.  To the southwest was a sizzling brazier of coals.  A screaming man, dressed in rags, was tied to the rack, while a man matching Lars’ description of Kersh Reftun stood heating an iron in the brazier.  He was dressed in a leather butcher’s apron, from which hung an assortment of flensing knives.  As the door opened, he turned towards it, branding iron in hand, an odd smile on his face.  The smile quickly faded, however, when a shaft from Gotr’s bow sprouted from his left shoulder.  Sepoto and Samson swirled past the kneeling gnome and closed with the torturer as he moved towards a far door.  
“Going somewhere?” the goliath asked as he coiled his chain around the man’s ankle and yanked it from under him.  He tried to rise, but a swift clout from Samson’s morningstar put him down for good.
“So much for negotiating,” Anwar sighed as he entered the room and surveyed the scene.  Then his eyes went to the prisoner, still tied to the rack.  
“What’s yer story?” he asked as he strolled casually over.
“M…my name’s Sharp…L…Lufton Sharp,” the man stammered.  “I’m a silk merchant.  The Dragon’s kidnapped me when I wouldn’t pay them protection money.  Can you cut me loose?”
Anwar eyed the man in silence.  Something about his tone and mannerisms struck the bard as false.  
“Sure,” he said after a moment, drawing a dagger from his belt.  “I’ll set ye free.  Just hold still.”  He leaned forward, as if to cut the bonds holding Sharp’s wrists, but at the last moment, he brought the blade down towards the man’s throat.
“Anwar!”  Thrisp shouted in alarm, but then he saw that the prisoner move with amazing speed, rolling his body away from Anwar, and easily slipping free of the ropes at the same time.  
“Stop him!” Anwar cried as Sharp leaped from the table, and dove towards the brazier.  As he did so, his clothing shimmered, replaced by a chain shirt.  A Lotus Dragon tattoo was plainly visible on one shoulder.
“C’mon then, ye dogs!” he jeered as he seized one of the hot irons.  As he raised it, however, Samson swung his cudgel, crushing the his collar bone.  He doubled over in pain, but met Sepoto’s chain on the way down, his forehead opening to the bone.  He tumbled to the floor, his life’s blood spilling across the stones.
“Kersh Reftun, I presume,” Anwar said dryly as he stood over the body.  “Well, he might still be of some use after all.”  The bard stripped the mail from the torturer’s corpse, donning it himself.  Concentrating, he willed the glamer of the armor to appear as a leather apron.  Then he quickly went to work completing his disguise, until it seemed as if the Lotus Dragon lieutenant lived again.  Afterwards, a quick search of Reftun’s bed chamber uncovered a haphazardly stacked pile of gear, including a suit of chainmail and a spiked shield.
“Lars said the cell block was beyond here,” Thrisp observed.  “Perhaps the Lotus Dragons really do have an unwilling guest in their keeping.”
_____________________________________________-

Xerxes heard the door of the torture chamber open, and the familiar bootsteps of his tormentor approaching.  Involuntarily, the dwarf drew back from the bars of his cell, conditioned by hours on unending torment to fear that tread.  Then Kersh Reftun’s sneering face was peering in at him again, and Xerxes felt his bladder loosen of its own accord.
“I have that effect on people sometimes,” the torturer said.  “Who are you?”
Xerxes was perplexed.  Was he to suffer mental torture now as well as physical?  Gathering up what little dignity he still had, he drew himself to his full height.
“Ye know who I am, ye devil.  If yer gonna kill me, then have done with it.”
“Kill you?” Reftun laughed.  “I don’t know you well enough to kill you…yet.  You understandably have me confused with someone else, but let’s let that pass for the moment.  I did in fact kill the last prisoner I met, but he forced my hand by lying to me.  I’ll ask once more…who are you?”
So it was to be mind games then, Xerxes sighed to himself.  Very well.  He would answer, for if he didn’t, he knew that he would endure even more suffering until he was forced to.
“Me name’s Xerxes.  I was hired by Zelkarune’s Horns as a bodyguard for Keltar Islaran…a job I failed at when yer mates killed’im in his sleep.  Now here I sit until yer done with yer fun, and then I’ll join me forefather’s in Moradin’s hall.”
The torturer eyed him for another moment, then turned and walked away.  A short time later he returned, this time accompanied by a motley crew that the dwarf had not seen before.  There were two gnomes, a goliath, if he wasn’t mistaken, and three humans, one with glowing red eyes.  Reftun unlocked the cell door, and the goliath tossed all of the dwarf’s gear at his feet.  Xerxes stared at them suspiciously, suspecting some new trick.
“It’s all right,” one of the gnomes said.  “My name’s Thrisp.  My companions and I are here to dismantle the Lotus Dragons.  We killed your tormentor already.  Show him Sepoto.”  The goliath reached into a dripping sack and pulled out Kersh Reftun’s head.  Xerxes looked in confusion from the gory trophy to the man who had just opened his cell and back again.
“He’s with us,” Thrisp said.  “His name is Anwar, and he is a master of disguise.  He hopes to use Reftun’s face to aid us in further penetrating the guild.  You’re free to go as you like, though I offer no guarantees for your safety on your own.  You are also free to accompany us, if you’d prefer to extract your own pound of flesh from your captors.”
“But know this,” the one called Anwar said.  “We’re not here to wet-nurse or baby-sit you.  You pull your weight, and you fight when we tell you, or so help me these will be the last tunnels you’ll ever see, dwarf.”
Xerxes pondered for a moment, then reached for his gear, lifting a brutally spiked shield.  
“Just tell me who to kill,” he smiled.
__________________________________________

Still following Lars’ map, the company continued on towards what the rogue had marked as the Training Hall.  He had warned them that a large group of guards waited there, but they knew that beyond this area was where Lars’ knowledge of the guild layout ended, and thus, they surmised, it was likely that was where they would find Vanthus and the Lady Dragon.  

Anwar didn’t even bother with subterfuge when Samson flung open the door to the hall.  The rank-and-file members of the Dragons were not his concern.  They were merely an obstacle between his men and their target.  The floor of the large room was covered with thick, padded mats.  Throughout the chamber stood all manner of target dummies made of clothes and armor stuffed with straw, some of which wore bell-studded coats with numerous pockets, and others of which were draped with manacles and chains hung with cheap-looking padlocks.  In the western section, a wooden stage sat a foot off the floor, and a padded throne flanked by potted plants sat upon it.  Six of the Lotus Dragons stood poised around the perimeter of the hall, hand-crossbows cocked and loaded.  Samson didn’t hesitate after he had the door open, letting his momentum carry him towards the nearest rogue before he could fire.  The dragon shaman slammed his spiked morningstar into the ruffian’s midsection, doubling him over as the air was driven from his lungs.  Stunned, the thug tried to stumble back and put some space between himself and his attacker, but Samson moved with him, cracking his temple with a second blow.  This one, the Lotus Dragon didn’t get up from.

Xerxes was next in, a feral snarl on his lips.  Ducking behind his shield, he charged across the room towards a second thief.  The rogue tried to bring his weapon to bear, but the burly dwarf was faster than he looked, driving the man back against the far wall.  One-by-one, Xerxes’ new allies filed into the room.  The human named Marius was already chanting a spell, and when he finished it, he chucked what looked to be a ball of pure fire at a third enemy, setting him alight, and distracting him completely from the battle.  Unfortunately, the display served to distract the dwarf as well, a mistake he paid for a moment later when one of the rogues finally got off a shot, his dart striking the mercenary in his unguarded right hand.  Xerxes felt the tell-tale burn of poison on the bolt, but his hearty dwarven constitution protected him from its full effect.

The flaming thief danced about madly, slapping at his smoldering clothes, but a combined magical barrage of acid and a missile of light from Marius and Basil ended his futile efforts for good.  Meanwhile, a few arcane words from Thrisp, followed by a flash of light, caused another of the ruffians to drop his weapon and rub dazedly at his eyes.  Samson was on him immediately, hammering into the man’s leg.  Simultaneously, Gotr scored a lucky hit with his bow on the same leg.  Growling in pain and anger, the Lotus Dragon shook off the effects of the gnome’s spell, and drew his rapier.  He rushed towards the dragon shaman, but as he passed Xerxes, the dwarf struck at the already injured leg with his shield.  Staggering, the thief charged on.  Suddenly, from Samson’s flank, another rogue attacked, his rapier piercing deep into the dragon shaman’s ribs.  Samson felt himself gasping for air.  At that moment, the wounded thief struck, falling forward and driving his own foil into Samson’s gut, collapsing to the ground in a pool of his own blood as he did so.  

Sepoto saw Samson wavering, and moved quickly towards his friend.  In his haste, however, he failed to notice one of the rogues dart from behind a training dummy, stabbing his blade beneath the goliath’s right armpit.  Sepoto hissed in pain, turning reflexively and slamming his chain into the ruffian’s face, fracturing his skull in numerous places.  As the rogue died, the crusader ripped a portion of his ebbing life-force from him, using the healing stance he had learned from the priest’s of Savras, and transferred it to Samson, closing some of the dragon shaman’s wounds.

Samson, feeling some of his strength returning, turned to parry the attack of another rogue rushing towards him.  Spinning his morningstar inside the man’s defenses, he jammed its spiked head into the thief’s throat.  Then, continuing the same motion, he connected solidly with the skull of the rogue who had punctured his lungs.  Both men fell and did not rise.  The room was momentarily silent.  In less than a minute, the little band had dispatched all six of the guards.  
“Here boy, lemme have a look at that,” Gotr said, stowing his bow and examining Samson’s wound.  “I’m not sure if this’ll work, but I’ll give it a try.”  The priest held out his symbol of office, and spoke the words to what sounded like a prayer, though not a very sincere one.  Yet, to Samson’s immense relief, it appeared to be successful, and his remaining injuries healed completely.
“Hmmph…” Gotr muttered.  “Probably just beginner’s luck.”
_________________________________________________

The party was now in unfamiliar territory.  Beyond the Training Hall, the map ended.  A door in the east wall of the room led to what appeared to be a storage room, with several target dummies heaped on a table, and a single chair pushed into one corner.  Another door on the other side led to a short, L-shaped corridor.  Sepoto took the lead, with Xerxes following.  The others came behind in single-file.  The hall abruptly ended with a choice of two doors, one to the east and one south.  Sepoto chose the eastern door to keep them headed in that general direction.  He was stunned when he did so, for looming right on the other side was a hissing rhagodessa!  For a moment the goliath’s mind flashed back to Ferox, killed in a matter of seconds by another of these beasts, and now here he was, with no room to maneuver in the cramped corridor, toe-to-toe with one.

Thinking fast, the crusader lowered his shoulder and slammed into the monster, attempting to push it back into the room it occupied so that he could gain some breathing room and his companions could assist him.  The rhagodessa proved stronger.  It’s six legs gripped the floor like vises and it didn’t budge an inch. 
“Keep at’im!” Xerxes shouted from behind, and then the dwarf did something that truly impressed the goliath.  Wedging his body between Sepoto and the door jamb, he chopped at the head of the rhagodessa, which was all he could see.  The sharpened edge of his shield opened a nasty gash in the creature’s carapace, and green blood gushed out.  This gave Sepoto an idea.  Quickly, he opened the southern door, revealing a small privy.  He stepped into it, freeing up the doorway, and Xerxes immediately slipped into the breach.  The rhagodessa reared, and the dwarf drove the spike on his shield into its relatively soft underbelly.  Screeching, the monster seized the mercenary with its forepalps, drawing him towards its slavering maw.  Again Ferox’ death appeared in Sepoto’s mind.
“No!” he howled, and then he lashed out, hurling the barbed end of his chain through one of the beast’s multi-faceted eyes.  It jittered and shook as it dropped Xerxes and flipped onto its back, all of its legs curling towards its abdomen.

“Strong work, gentlemen,” Anwar said as he strode casually into the room.
“You might just work out yet,” he said to Xerxes, patting the dwarf on the head.  Xerxes scowled at the bard, but knew better than to reply.  The room the rhagodessa had occupied seemed empty, save for the sturdy chain locked to a collar around the beast’s thorax.  The other end of the chain disappeared through a small hole in the northeast wall.  Yet another closed door stood to the east.  

The next chamber appeared to be some sort of war room.  A large, hexagonal table made of oak took up the majority, surrounded by six chairs.  The north wall bore a huge map of Tashluta, on which dozens of tiny flags had been placed.  To the south, a five-foot tall and ten-foot wide slate bore a tangled mess of chalk scribblings.  A winch handle protruded from the northwest corner.  Anwar strolled over to the board.  The writing seemed to consist mostly of the comings and goings of ships in the harbor, as well as notations on which ones had been, or where scheduled to be, holed.  The bard smiled, however, as he read a small note in the upper right corner.  It was a list of all their names (save Xerxes) inside a box.  Alongside the list, in large letters was written, “VANTHUS! FIX THIS!”
“It would appear we’ve made an impression,” he said over his shoulder.  Then his eyes fell on another note in a lower corner of the board, but this one was written in a language he did not understand.  He called Basil and Marius over.
“It’s Aquan,” both of them said simultaneously.  “The language of water-dwellers,” Basil continued.  “It says something about paying the ixitxs by month’s end.  It must be referring to a race of manta-like creatures, who’s name I can’t even begin to pronounce.  They are known for being violent and evil.  The Dragons must be using them to damage the ships in the harbor.”

“Anwar, have a look at this,” Thrisp interrupted from across the room, where he stood examining the wall map.  The flags on the map were in three colors, red, blue and gold.  A gold one protruded from the Vanderboren estate, while a red one was stuck in the Islaran estate and a blue on in the Kellani estate.  Several of the Watch garrisons, including Sunrise and Shadowshore bore blue and gold flags, but the Champion’s District Watch had one of red, as did Cudgel District’s.  The Thayan embassy also had one blue and one gold, as did the Chultan Trading Concern.  Other blue flags marked the Dracktus estate, the Taxidermist Guild, and the Whaler’s Guild (this latter also bore gold).  Other red flags included the Church of the Whirling Fury, the Temple of Anachtyr, the Lidu estate, and the Dawnhouse of Lathander.
“It would appear obvious that the blue flags mark allies of the Lotus Dragons,” Anwar observed, “while the red mark their enemies.  I’m puzzled at the meaning of the gold one, however, especially the one on the Vanderboren estate.”
Thrisp nodded in agreement, all the while jotting down notes in a small book he carried.  As he did so, he whispered under his breath in Undercommon, “This might be quite a lucrative opportunity for us.”  Anwar glanced sharply at him, and then smiled.  
“You’re finally learning,” he replied in the same tongue and tone.

When it became obvious that there was no further information to be had in the room, the group moved on.  Another eastern door led to another hall, this one longer and straighter than the previous one.  This time Xerxes took the lead.  The corridor ended at a closed door, and after a nod from Sepoto, the dwarf opened it.  An empty room greeted him, but it was not unoccupied.  Standing just on the other side of the door, as if it had been waiting for him, was a grisly sight.  To all appearances it was a bugbear, a hulking cousin to the goblins, but it was either horribly wounded, or terribly disfigured.  Great swaths of its fur were missing, and in places muscle showed beneath rents in its flesh, and in other places, bone could be seen below that.  Its lower jaw was missing, as was one eye.  It clutched a large morningstar in one skeletal hand.

Sepoto quickly pulled the dwarf towards him, at the same time lashing out with his chain.  Though the weapon scored the creature’s flesh deeply, there was no blood, and the monster apparently did not feel pain.
“Gotr!” the goliath shouted.  “I don’t think this beast is alive!  I think it’s another walking corpse!”
“Do you, now?” the gnome replied from further back.  “And does your expertise on these matters tell you this?  Being a janitor for a bunch of priests doesn’t make you one, boy!  Why don’t you leave these matters to your betters?”  Still, the little cleric pulled out his holy symbol, and held it before him.  “By Oghma, I command you back to your tomb, restless spirit!”  In answer, the mutilated bugbear slugged Xerxes with its cudgel, sending the dwarf stumbling back several feet, blood running down his face.  
“See?” Gotr said smugly.  “Just like I said.  That thing’s no zombie.  You wouldn’t know a zombie if it came up and ate your brains!”
Sepoto growled as he shoved Xerxes behind him, then stepped up to face the creature.  They parried and traded blows for a moment, with the goliath taking more than he gave, until a swarm of blazing magic missiles streaked past, courtesy of Marius and Basil, burying themselves in the bugbear’s empty eye socket.  It fell to the floor, sparks still fizzling in its skull.
“Zombie!  Hah!” Gotr sneered, kicking at the dead thing as he and the others crossed the empty chamber to the far door.
________________________________________________

The opulence of the room in which they found themselves was a bit jarring after the austerity of the guild tunnels.  The smooth plaster walls were painted violet, and delicately crafted silver lanterns flickered softly on the wall.  A shelf to the north held several books, statuettes, stuffed animals, a crystal ball with a smoky red light at its core, and two coffers, one of darkwood and one of iron decorated with tiny jade bats.  A five-foot wide landscape of Tashluta hung on the eastern wall, yet all the ships in the harbor flew flags depicting a serpentine dragon coiled around a lotus.  A pair of overstuffed chairs sat beside a low table heaped with fruit and bottles of wine.  To the south stood a lone wooden cupboard.  The floor itself was adorned with a thick, deep purple carpet.  An open door to the south led to what appeared to be a bedroom.  As Sepoto opened the door, a lovely woman with long red hair tied back in a ponytail stretched languidly and rose with unsettling grace from one of the chairs.  Her eyes sparkled like chips of green jade, and on one shoulder she wore a tattoo of a lotus, while on the other was an intricate dragon tattoo, its tail coiling down around her arm.  She was dressed in gleaming black leathers and wore an ornate rapier on her hip.  Standing beside her chair was a strange creature, which resembled a small dinosaur with a bright, yellow crest running from its head and down its back.

“So, you are Lavinia’s flunkies,” she said with a smile, though her voice was tinged with bitterness.  “It’s obvious you are resourceful, as you’ve succeeded in dismantling what took me years to build.  And here you are, ready to fight to the death, but for what?  To serve the whims of some noble bitch?  Allow me to make you a more lucrative offer.  Join me.  Help me to rebuild.  I have plenty of money to do it, but with your help, the new Lotus Dragons could be stronger then ever.”
By this time, Anwar had entered the room, and the Lady Dragon stopped her speech.  “Reftun?” she asked, puzzled.  At that moment the creature at her side hissed something to her.  Anwar understood the thing’s draconic tongue, and knew that it had pierced his disguise and told its mistress as much.  The lady smiled as she looked up at the bard.
“Clever.  You only prove my point.  You are resourceful.  Join your forces with mine and we will be unstoppable.”
“Perhaps, perhaps,” Anwar said, waving her offer aside.  “But first to our reason for being here.  Where is Vanthus Vanderboren?  If we are to even consider your offer, the matter of this…person, will have to be resolved.”
“You concern yourself with trivialities,” she replied.  “Vanthus is not here.  I have sent him out of the city on a mission for me.”  
Anwar sensed she was telling the truth and nodded.  “Tell me this then,” he continued.  “why should we accept your offer when we can just kill you now and take what’s yours?”
“You disappoint me,” she sighed.  “How short-sighted of you.  You think what you see here is valuable?  This is but a fraction of what you could have when my ultimate plans are realized.  When I control all of Tashluta’s shipping concerns, the rewards will be far more than you can imagine.”
“I can imagine quite a lot,” Anwar smiled.  “Still, there is a question of loyalty.  We can have it both ways…take what we see here, and still reap our reward from Lavinia.  After all, she is my one true love.”  He smiled, but his eyes were as cold as an adder’s.  The Lady of the Lotus sketched a small bow.
“Well played, sir.  I see that I have truly underestimated you, and I regret that we shall not have the opportunity to work together.”  She drew her rapier casually, then spoke to her pet.  “Guttugger, do your thing.”

The little reptile moved with surprising speed, darting to block the door behind Anwar, but Sepoto was only a fraction of a second slower.  The goliath charged forward, shoving the beast all the way across the room.  Samson, Xerxes and Gotr spilled into the room behind him, while Anwar slipped surreptitiously out.  Guttugger, meanwhile, darted between Sepoto’s legs and lunged for Gotr.  The gnome raised his bow defensively, but the little monster clamped its teeth down on his wrist.  Then, as Xerxes moved to hedge it in, it turned, and snapped at the dwarf, leaving teeth marks in his thigh.

The Lady, meanwhile, maneuvered carefully about the perimeter of the room, trying to position herself behind Sepoto.  The goliath moved like the wind, spinning his chain out and clipping her across her beautiful face, opening a large gash.  She gasped, recoiling, and at the same time Xerxes struck with his shield, knocking the wind out of her.  
“Leave her alive!” Anwar commanded.  “Kill the lizard!”
In answer, Guttugger snarled and sank his teeth into Samson.  He then whirled in a vicious circle, facing down all of his assailants who, for the moment, gave the little beast a wide berth.  His mistress used the opportunity to dive between Xerxes and Sepoto, somersaulting to her feet behind Samson before darting into the open bedroom door.  Samson quickly turned to follow, but by the time he reached her, she was standing at an open doorway, apparently a hidden portal that she had triggered.  The dragon shaman rushed towards her, but she sidestepped easily, moving through the door, and closing it behind her.  To Samson, the door seemed to disappear completely, leaving a blank wall in its place.

Guttugger saw his mistress leave, and knew he was on his own.  He did not resent this, instead merely noting it as necessity.  If the Lotus Dragons were to survive, Rowyn must live, and he would ensure her escape.  He leaped towards the door where the gnome still stood.  He suffered two scathing blows from the goliath and the dwarf as he moved, but he did not slow.  Even a lucky shot from the cursed gnome’s bow did not stop him.  He saw the gnome’s eyes widen in fear as he approached, and the pathetic creature struggled to knock another arrow.  Guttugger seized his arm, shaking it like a rag doll.  The gnome screamed like a female as he struggled to free himself, but Guttugger held on.  In fact, he continued to maintain his hold, even as he saw his enemies close about him, weapons raised, and then he knew only darkness.
_______________________________________________

Rowyn wiped a tear from her eye, knowing Guttugger’s fate was sealed.
“I will avenge you, my friend,” she whispered as she uncorked her flask and drank its contents.  Her body instantly began to turn to misty vapor, and she flowed through one of the small drain pipes in the corridor’s floor.  
“The Lotus Dragon’s will live again,” her voice echoed on the wind as she vanished.


----------



## EvolutionKB

Very good update here guys...I've recognized daze, magic missle, lesser energy orbs, but what aura does Samson have up during battle, and does Sepoto use manuvers or just the healing stance?  I really like how you guys are pulling off the anti-heroes here.  I'd have to say I started off not liking Anwar, but he is definately growing on me.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Nice...very nice. I'm glad the party did not manage to kill or subdue Rowyn. She is way too cool & this way she can join Demogorgon's side in the final battle. 

Very nice chapter, JollyDoc! You really manage to paint a good picture of the group, their dynamic and their conflicts. 

Anwar is, of course, the most controversial member of the team. I would expect a short life expectancy for poor Lavinia, should she ever decide to marry that one. On the other hand, I wonder if Anwar will meet his end at the hand of an enemie or maybe a fed up team member (or all of them)... You tell the tale - we just wonder.


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## LordVyreth

Out of curiosity, are you not labeling the dates of your updates intentionally?  For some unknown reason, enworld works really badly at work; adobe keeps on complaining about plug-ins for some reason.  So I usually only check story hours when I can read a new update and then grab the new comments at the same time.  I was just wondering if that was planned.


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## JollyDoc

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Out of curiosity, are you not labeling the dates of your updates intentionally?  For some unknown reason, enworld works really badly at work; adobe keeps on complaining about plug-ins for some reason.  So I usually only check story hours when I can read a new update and then grab the new comments at the same time.  I was just wondering if that was planned.





I'm not sure I follow.  I'm showing the date when I posted as yesterday at 9:01 pm CST.  Does that not show up for everyone?


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## JollyDoc

EvolutionKB said:
			
		

> Very good update here guys...I've recognized daze, magic missle, lesser energy orbs, but what aura does Samson have up during battle, and does Sepoto use manuvers or just the healing stance?  I really like how you guys are pulling off the anti-heroes here.  I'd have to say I started off not liking Anwar, but he is definately growing on me.




Samson most often uses the aura that gives +1 to initiative, then switches to DR.  He'll use fast healing if someone if badly wouned.  

Sepoto's stances...again, I'll have to let Ika comment on that.  He uses the healing one quite a bit, then he uses one that temporarily gives the rest of the group +4 to hit.  Sometimes when he takes damage, he'll defer it until after the fight.  Some of these are hard to describe in story telling.


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Sepoto is in the Martial Spirit Stance all the time which when I hit a enemy I can choose to give 2 HP to me or someone who is injured. So far I have used manuevers but like Jollydoc said they are hard to explain. 
I have 2 devoted spirit 2 white raven and one Stone Dragon so far. This last update I never hardly got a chance to use any because the fights where over real quick. 

But I have at one time or another Healed someone as a CLW and have given myself DR and given everyone a +4 to hit for a round. I do not have ny books in front of me or I would give you the names for each manuever. If he makes it a few more levels I will post him on here.


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## EvolutionKB

I would like to see all your guy's sheets, presuming they survive of course.  What level is everyone now?  Can't wait to see Samson let loose that breath weapon.


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## gfunk

*Sunday Night Update*
1. The Legion (yes you read right) clears out the Lotus Dragon's ill-gotten gains but not without a few licks.
2. Instead of doing the "right" thing in terms of revealing the identities of the Lotus Dragons' allies, Thrisp and Anwar decide to blackmail as many as possible.
3. In the process of blackmailing everyone, we come onto some very interesting information.  As a matter of course, we also learn that certain noble houses have crappy security (or really bad Spot checks).
4. The Dawn Council proclaims the Legion city-wide heroes despite our best efforts to the contrary.
5. Onto Kraken Cove for more adventure where we are boarded by pirates.
6. Nothing says loving like feral monkeys and pirates.  But alas, we are again reminded of the very short lifespan of dwarven fighters in our campaign.


----------



## LordVyreth

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> I'm not sure I follow.  I'm showing the date when I posted as yesterday at 9:01 pm CST.  Does that not show up for everyone?




I mean in the main headline for the Story Hour itself.  As in, calling it "JollyDoc's Savage Tide (Updated 12/xx/06)."  I thought that was the format you used in earlier SH threads, and it seems to be the standard in general around here.


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## JollyDoc

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> I mean in the main headline for the Story Hour itself.  As in, calling it "JollyDoc's Savage Tide (Updated 12/xx/06)."  I thought that was the format you used in earlier SH threads, and it seems to be the standard in general around here.




OIC...Gfunk used to do that for me.  I'm not quite sure how...


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## gfunk

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> OIC...Gfunk used to do that for me.  I'm not quite sure how...




All you have to do is go to the first post of the thread and hit the "Edit Post" button.  Then you can change the thread title.  Just add the date to the end of "Jollydoc's Savage Tide."


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## Eltanin

Sheesh, you guys really rip through it don't ye? I'm always bummed as a DM when the party goes through about 3 combats and the bad guys never even got to their turn in initiative. But it can still be pretty fun as a player to feel like you're part of an unstoppable wave sweeping obstacles from your path. 

It's hard to tell from the Story, are you guys feeling challenged (other than hinted at difficulties keeping dwarves around)? Are you tempted to beef things up JollyDoc or are you sticking to the plan to keep it as written? You're certainly [anti-]heroic! Go Legion!

Thanks for letting us share the joy. It's joyful!


----------



## Zaruthustran

This crew is pretty great--like others, Anwar is growing on me. Nice job on that whole writing thing, JD.

-z


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## JollyDoc

Eltanin said:
			
		

> Sheesh, you guys really rip through it don't ye? I'm always bummed as a DM when the party goes through about 3 combats and the bad guys never even got to their turn in initiative. But it can still be pretty fun as a player to feel like you're part of an unstoppable wave sweeping obstacles from your path.
> 
> It's hard to tell from the Story, are you guys feeling challenged (other than hinted at difficulties keeping dwarves around)? Are you tempted to beef things up JollyDoc or are you sticking to the plan to keep it as written? You're certainly [anti-]heroic! Go Legion!
> 
> Thanks for letting us share the joy. It's joyful!




I am scaling the adventures, as per the sidebars in the adventures.  I would say that the first part of the Bullywug Gambit has been challenging...even for eight PC's.  You'll see


----------



## Eltanin

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> I am scaling the adventures, as per the sidebars in the adventures.  I would say that the first part of the Bullywug Gambit has been challenging...even for eight PC's.  You'll see





Heehee. *Rubs hands together in glee* Sounds great! I can't wait to see how Nick's little gem plays out.


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## Neverwinter Knight

Agreed! This should be fun! 



			
				gfunk said:
			
		

> 2. Instead of doing the "right" thing in terms of revealing the identities of the Lotus Dragons' allies, Thrisp and Anwar decide to blackmail as many as possible.



Anwar was right: Thrisp *is* learning.




			
				gfunk said:
			
		

> But alas, we are again reminded of the very short lifespan of dwarven fighters in our campaign.



Don't tell us you've broken another one...


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## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Don't tell us you've broken another one...





Beyond any hope of repair....


BTW...this update may be a little delayed, as we will not be playing again until the week after New Year's, so I have a bit more time....be patient.  Good things come to those who wait


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

We always do. So take your time!


----------



## Zaruthustran

So who is this new dwarf, the rescued guy? An NPC?


----------



## JollyDoc

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> So who is this new dwarf, the rescued guy? An NPC?




Yes, the rescued one.  His player is the son of R-Hero, getting his feet wet for the first time playng D&D...don't know if this group is the nurturing sort for a newbie


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## Need_A_Life

Great Storyhour!

I finished reading your Age of Worms adventure path like an hour ago and downloaded your shackled city story hour just afterwards.

This is definitely a group I'd like to play with, though from what I saw in the AoW SH you're a bit to happy about optimization for my own comfort. Though, I bet that I could keep up the pace if I had to.

Glad to see the piracy spreading in the group already!

Hope that these characters end up rich, infamous, feared and sipping expensive liquors on sunbathed beaches. Or, at least Anwar   



> Yes, the rescued one. His player is the son of R-Hero, getting his feet wet for the first time playng D&D...don't know if this group is the nurturing sort for a newbie



Only one way to learn the ropes of D&D.
I came to it straight from having played free-form roleplaying, so coming into a high-powered, high-levelled group of munchkins gave me a firm introduction to the mechanics.

I'll pass on a few quotes from my current group:
"Nono, you're going about this wrong. You see, this is flavor text, just skip straight to the prestige classes. Oh and check out the feats and spells while you're at it." [said as an example of the common rookie mistake]
"If your saves aren't a minimum of +30, you're dead in first round of combat" [we were level 18 IIRC]
*stunned silence* "You come in here and claim to know nothing about combat at these levels, you spend most of your time trying to find out exactly what your spells _do_, haven't used anything higher than 2nd level spells for five rounds and you could actually handle this guy on your own?" [at level 20]


----------



## JollyDoc

Yes, with our group, any new book that comes out is automatically judged on its Crunch vs Fluff content, with the latter relegated to the not-worth-having pile.  Although, I will have to say, that prestige classes, by and large, have made sense.  For instance, in AoW, Hawk was a paladin, with one or two levels in marshall, and then the annointed knight prestige class.  Storm was a wizard with the stormcaster prestige.  Grubber, Faust, Mak and Havok were all pure...cleric, psion, favored soul, and warlock respectively.  Too much cross-classing makes Jack an unoptimized boy.


----------



## Supar

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Yes, with our group, any new book that comes out is automatically judged on its Crunch vs Fluff content, with the latter relegated to the not-worth-having pile.  Although, I will have to say, that prestige classes, by and large, have made sense.  For instance, in AoW, Hawk was a paladin, with one or two levels in marshall, and then the annointed knight prestige class.  Storm was a wizard with the stormcaster prestige.  Grubber, Faust, Mak and Havok were all pure...cleric, psion, favored soul, and warlock respectively.  Too much cross-classing makes Jack an unoptimized boy.




heh i can honestly say that i enjoy nothing else but to find that obscure feat or spell that tweaks things from normal to beyond. Its just fun to see JD's face scrunch up when he goes "wait how does that work".


----------



## JollyDoc

Let it never be said that a man with Jolly in his name can't be magnanimous at Christmas time!  I've decided to divide this latest update into two parts, so here's the first one as a little bonus for you all, dear readers.  Enjoy!

BLACK MAIL AND BLACK TIE

It was a simple matter for Thrisp to find the hidden door through which Rowyn had fled, but by that time there was no trace of the Lady of the Lotus.  Only a short hallway lay beyond, ending at a stout, locked door.  After learning the hard way that the guild treasury would not be unwarded, the group was rewarded with quite a windfall (after having taken a volley of poisoned darts and suffering punctured feet courtesy of a footlancer trap).  It seemed that the Lotus Dragons had amassed quite a bit of ill-gotten booty, and since there was no chance of finding out whom the loot had been stolen from, the company claimed salvage rights.  The same could not be said for the contents of another chest, since all of the coins and gemstones inside were neatly collected into silk bags, each one bearing the Vanderboren family crest.  Although Anwar briefly toyed with the idea of keeping this as well (after all, Lavinia had not charged them with recovering her stolen wealth), ultimately he decided that the reasoning he’d used with Rowyn still stood.  He needed to remain in Lavinia’s good graces for a bit longer yet, and so he would insure her utter devotion to him by gifting her with her birthright.

Back in Rowyn’s bedchamber, a thorough ransacking turned up a small cache of letters hidden between the mattresses.  These were from none-other-than Vanthus himself, and consisted mostly of exceptionally racy love missives, dating back several weeks.  As Thrisp read through them, however, he uncovered a few interesting pieces of information.
“Listen to this,” he called to the others, and then began to read aloud.  “This is dated two days before the death of Lavinia’s parents:  ‘My parents have grown soft.  I’m not worried in the slightest that they suspect anything, my delicate flower.  The funds you’ve trusted me with have been more than enough to pay off the local guards, the harbor watch, and the ship’s crew to say nothing about the new cargo.  Hell, they even offered to help load the barrels!  Of course, I didn’t tell them what was inside.  I’m sure they’d sing a different song if they knew just how much alchemist’s fire we loaded into the hold of my father’s new plaything.  I’ll be following the ship’s progress for a few days to make sure the fire does the trick, so you’ll not be seeing me for at least a half a week.  Keep your bed warm for me!’”  Thrisp paused to flip through a few pages, and then continued.  “This is dated three days after the ship fire:  ‘It’s unbelievable!  Sure, she’s the eldest sibling, but she knows nothing of life!  She’s spent the last half of her childhood in Thenalar learning how to fold napkins and play the violin for Hell’s sake!  It just goes to show you how insane my parents really were…leaving everything in her care like that!  Whatever.  She’ll need the house to live off of, I suppose.  Lavinia’s not a bad lass, really…I kind of miss our time together, to tell the truth.  Think she’d be interested in joining the Lotus?  I doubt it, and anyway, a second Vanderboren tragedy might get too many people curious.  No, for now, whatever’s in the vault will have to do…’”  Thrisp flipped to the last page.  “This one is from two days ago:  ‘I really wish you could have been there, my little dragon, to see their faces before I closed the door!  Lavinia’s never going to get anywhere hiring fools like them.  I wonder if they’ve found Penkus yet?  I hope they didn’t die too quickly.  In any case, on to the purpose of this letter.  Brissa’s in the other room, getting ready for a night out on the town, so I’ll have to be quick.  Remember that thing she hinted about to me?  About the pirates who were supposedly using Kraken’s Cove as a base for their smuggling operation?  Turns out she wasn’t spinning tales.  I’ve heard that they’ll be arriving within the week with a particularly rich cargo.  I’ll bring her with me on the pretext of joining up with them, get their guard down, and when they’re not expecting it, my men’ll light the ships on fire!  It’ll be a simple task to pluck the treasure from the water once all those fools are dead.  Should be more than enough to make up for what we lost when Lavinia inherited rather than me.  I tell you, burning people to death on their own boats?  It’s the best way to make money yet!  Wish I’d thought of it years ago!’”

“Man after my own heart,” Anwar muttered thoughtfully.  Then aloud, “We’ve got what we need here.  Burn the rest, and let’s be on our way.”  They set fire to the guild vault and Rowyn’s quarters, making sure to take the incriminating map with them, and then made their way back to the Taxidermist’s Guild, encountering no further resistance on their return trip.  When they arrived at Lavinia’s and told her all they’d discovered, including Vanthus’ role in their parents death, the young noblewoman was shocked, but it was becoming more and more clear to Anwar that she was made of sterner stuff than he’d first thought.  He saw steel in her eyes, and resolve on her face.
“I owe you all much,” she said at length, “and you will be rewarded for your efforts.  I ask you to continue your search for my brother’s whereabouts.  He must be made to face justice for his crimes.  In the meantime, what of this mercenary you rescued?”  She indicated Xerxes.  “Do you vouch for him?”
“He is useful in a fight…up to a point.”  Anwar answered grudgingly.  “I suppose we can use him.”
Lavinia nodded.  “Then you are hired,” she said to Xerxes.  “You will receive equal pay and a share of any monetary or material salvage gained while in my employ.  You are now an official member of the…”
“Legion, my love,” Anwar said, smiling.  “We are as one from many, and your enemies shall tremble before us.”  Lavinia smiled as well, though somewhat uneasily.
“There is one other thing, my sweet,” the bard continued.  “We told you of the map we found implicating several organizations in the Lotus Dragon’s machinations.  We would like to set up a meeting with the Dawn Council in two days time to apprise them of this information.”
“It will be done,” she nodded again.  “You will all be heroes!”
___________________________________________________

Late that night, in a small study in Thrisp’s small but comfortable house, the bard and the gnome sat talking by lantern-light.
“The way I see it, this is a win-win situation,” Thrisp explained.  “Forget about the Watch garrisons.  There may be corruption internally, but not totally.  We’ll have nothing to gain by threatening them, and those who were with the Lotus Dragons may take it upon themselves to retaliate.  As for the two noble houses, Dracktus and Kellani, as well as the guilds, my plan is simple.  I have a contact who can act as a go-between.  He will deliver the message for us to each of them, telling them that we plan to expose them to the Dawn Council unless they agree to our terms.”
“Which are?” Anwar asked, his full attention on the gnome.  The fact that the little beguiler had come up with this on his own impressed the bard…and concerned him.  His pint-sized protégé was learning quickly, perhaps too quickly.  Anwar would have to keep a close eye one him.
“Each of the guilds will pay us five-hundred gold galleons for our silence.  The nobles, on the other hand,” he paused, grinning, “they will agree to endorse us, one-hundred percent, for membership on the Dawn Council.”
“But you already are a member,” Anwar observed.
“Merely an affiliate,” Thrisp said.  “With the nobles’ sponsorship, we can be full members.  In time, the houses of Doogal and Rosznar will rise to positions of prominence among the Tashlutan nobility.”
Anwar considered this for a few moments, and then nodded.  “I concur whole-heartedly, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to add my own twist.”  The bard reached up and touched the feather of a jaunty cap he’d taken to wearing recently.  For an instant, his features seemed to melt, but an moment later Rowyn, the Lady of the Lotus sat where Anwar had been.  Thrisp rose to his feet, a spell on his lips, but the figure in the chair opposite chuckled and raised a placating hand.
“Relax my friend,” Anwar’s voice said.  “It’s merely an illusion.  Surely one such as you should recognize it.  Do you like my new toy?”  He pointed to the ribbon which tied back his long, dark hair…the ribbon that, a moment before had been a feathered cap.
_____________________________________________________

So it was that Captain Shadwick of the Whalers Guild, and Vico Brevenin of the Chult Trading Concern each received a late-night visit from the Lady of the Lotus herself.  She informed them, in no uncertain terms, that she was liquidating all of the Lotus Dragon’s assets in Tashluta, effective immediately.  She demanded that each pay her a certain sum of gold by the following sundown, lest she insure that a list of names and other incriminating evidence be delivered into the hands of the Dawn Council before her departure.  She did not wait for a reply, and she was not afraid of direct action against her by the guildmasters.  They feared the power of the Lotus too much.

Rowyn also paid a visit to Anteki Alresian of the Thayan embassy, but for a different purpose.  Again, she told him of her plans, but made no demands of him.
“Rest assured,” the Lady said, “we will make no mention of the assistance you have given us.  We may have need once more of your services when we begin operations again.”  The bald, tattooed, scarlet-robed man looked at her levelly, no emotion in his eyes.
“I am confident you would never be foolish enough to draw the unwanted attention of the Red Wizards, my Lady,” he said coolly.  
“Just so,” Rowyn agreed.  “As long as we understand each other.  I just wanted you to be aware of events before the reckoning.”  She then took her leave, making her way from Champion’s District to Shadowshore, and the house of Dracktus.  

When the major domo answered her knock, she passed a rolled parchment to him, instructing him to deliver it immediately to Lord Emil Dracktus.  Recognition shown on the man’s face, as well as fear, and Rowyn/Anwar knew that the noble would receive her ultimatum post-haste.  Her final visit of the night was to Azure District, and House Kellani, where all of Anwar’s carefully laid plans took an unexpected turn.

A serving girl answered the door, holding a small lantern above her head and peering out into the gloom.
“Lady Rowyn!” she said in surprise, her voice tinged with worry.  “Are you well?”  Anwar’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes,” he replied, mimicking Rowyn’s voice.  “Rouse the house steward…immediately!”  The young girl hustled away, leaving Anwar in the foyer.  He glanced about in interest, noting a large portrait of a middle-aged, handsome woman with hard eyes which hung on one wall.  A moment later a balding, portly man in a nightshirt came hurrying down the hall, the serving girl on his heels.
“Lady Rowyn?” he asked.  “Is everything alright?  I was led to believe that you would be away for some time.”  Again, Anwar sensed that something was not right.  He chose his words carefully.
“I have returned sooner than planned.  I have urgent business to discuss with your matron, Lady Heldrath.”  The man looked confused.
“By all means, my lady, but your mother is sleeping just now.  Should I wake her?”  Shock jolted Anwar, but he somehow managed to keep his expression neutral.  Mother?  The Lady of the Lotus was a scion of a noble house?  Unbelievable!  Quickly, he regained his composure.
“Yes…yes of course,” he said, bringing one hand to his head as if in pain.  “You are right, I’m not feeling well, and I fear I’ve partaken of a bit too much of the Plucked Parrot’s finest this evening.  Can you just show me to my room?  I’ll speak with mother in the morning.”
“Of course!” the major domo said, relief on his face.  He motioned to the serving girl, and Anwar followed her upstairs to a suite of tastefully decorated rooms…far more so than the pirate’s boudoir Rowyn inhabited beneath the city streets.  Once the servant left, Anwar immediately began tossing the room, searching for anything that might reveal just what was going on in House Kellani.  Ultimately, he came upon a small diary.  From its writings he was able to ascertain that Heldrath Kellani was working in full cooperation with her daughter.  It seemed that House Kellani stood to gain much once Tashluta’s shipping concerns were consolidated under one banner.  Anwar found a sheet of blank parchment and a quill and jotted down a brief note, perfectly forging Rowyn’s handwriting.  In it he informed Matron Heldrath of all that he knew, and intimated that he and his companions had magnanimously spared Rowyn’s life.  He listed his demands, then sealed the note and tossed it casually on Rowyn’s bed.  He then slipped from the room and the house, and disappeared into the night.
______________________________________________________

The following evening found Thrisp seated in a corner booth at the Plucked Parrot, a pint of ale sitting untouched on the table in front of him.  His eyes were on a cloaked figure making its way across the room in his direction.  When this person reached his table, he slid onto the bench on the far side and pulled down his hood, revealing a young, non-descript man with muddy eyes and lank, black hair.  
“Lucius,” Thrisp nodded.  The other returned the nod.  “How went your business this evening?”  Thrisp asked.
Lucius shrugged and surreptitiously passed two sacks under the table to the gnome.  “The guildmasters paid,” he said, “but there was no sign of the nobles or their representatives.”
“I didn’t expect there would be,” Thrisp said.  “Their payment will come tomorrow, at the meeting of the Dawn Council.  Are our…superiors satisfied with this arrangement?”
Lucius shrugged again.  “That depends on the final outcome.  Your efforts will be looked upon favorably only if they bear fruit.  If, however, you bring down the wrath of two noble houses, you will find yourself all alone.”
“I understand,” Thrisp answered.
“Then our business is concluded,” Lucius said, slipping from his seat and disappearing as quickly as he came.
_______________________________________________

The Dawn Council met the following morning at Lavinia Vanderboren’s behest.  All of the noble houses were represented by their heads, with the notable exceptions of Houses Dracktus and Kellani.  They had sent non-family representatives in their place.  The guildmasters were all present as well.  When the session was called to order, Lavinia explained that her hirelings, while searching for information about her missing brother, had stumbled upon an organized thieve’s guild known as the Lotus Dragons.  Upon further investigation, she continued, they had discovered a plot by the guild to take control of all of Tashluta’s shipping, and in order to accomplish this, they had been assisted by corrupt members of several district Watches.  This brought numerous shouts of outrage by those assembled, and proof was called for.  It was at this time that Anwar produced the map and notes they had retrieved from the guild.  There was no mention in his presentation of the involvement of the Whaler’s Guild, the Chult Trading Concern, nor any noble houses.  He did accuse the Taxidermist’s Guild of collusion, and detailed the unfortunate demise of its guildmaster.  When he was finished, the Council asked for a recess to consider all the evidence.  They asked for all of the Legion members to make themselves available for further questioning, if need be.

As the meeting began to break up, Anwar approached the emissaries from House Dracktus and House Kellani.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” he said, bowing.  “I had hoped to see your master and mistress here today.  Perhaps they sent a message?”
The man from House Dracktus simply scowled.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning on his heel and walking away.
“Here’s a message for you,” the dark-skinned man from Kellani said softly, “do not meddle in the affairs of your betters, and the next time you set foot on Kellani property, you will be killed on sight.”
Anwar smiled. “You should hire more observant servants.”
The other smiled in return, though it held no mirth.  “Oh, don’t worry.  Their replacements won’t make the same mistakes.”  With that, he to turned and left.  
“Touché’,” Anwar said.
___________________________________________________

An invitation was delivered to the Vanderboren estate the next morning.  The Legion was to be honored that evening at Stormwall Keep.  Formal attire was requested.  It seemed their tale and supporting evidence had proved credible, and that day investigations were set into motion to look into all the district Watches.  Despite all odds, the motley crew of misfits was to become heroes.  The night’s festivities included a banquet and dance in their honor, so that the members of the Dawn Council could thank them in person for the great service they had provided to Tashluta.  When the banquet ended, Lord Worrin Lidu presented each of them with the Spire of Tashluta, a medal awarded to those who performed above and beyond the call of duty for the city.
“Well, at least I’ll never have to buy my own drink again,” Gotr muttered as he regarded the medallion.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Wow, these twists, schemes and politics are great! Can't wait to see how this plays out! Thanks for this update, JollyDoc.

Happy holidays, everyone. May your short break from gaming result in new incredible gaming action when you again join your dice.


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## Zaruthustran

So, what about the endorsements? I take it they're not forthcoming?


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## JollyDoc

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> So, what about the endorsements? I take it they're not forthcoming?




Endorsements?


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## Need_A_Life

I don't know or care why there was asked about endorsements, but I would like to see an update... preferrably soon...

Don't take it the wrong way, I appreciate the work you people do... I just haven't been able to reach a game for nearly a month now...

I am living through people like you...

(For the moment)


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## Zaruthustran

Endorsement for the party gaining the Dawn Council from the nobles. 

Not endorsement contracts. Though I could see Anwar going after some of those. I can see it now: 



			
				Anwar said:
			
		

> When a lie just *has* to work, I only use Mephistopheles(tm) brand fibs. Mephistopheles(tm): the most trusted name in deceit.




-z


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## Hammerhead

Why go number two when you can rely on number one, the ruler of Hell? Don't settle for some wannabe, choose Asmodeus!


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## gfunk

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Why go number two when you can rely on number one, the ruler of Hell? Don't settle for some wannabe, choose Asmodeus!




Too many prerequisite feats.  In that respect Beelzebub is a better.  Less prereq feats and a better liar to boot.


----------



## JollyDoc

KRAKEN COVE

In the days that followed, a spirit of celebration gripped Tashluta, for a festival was fast approaching, and it was not just any festival…it was Wormfall!  This year would be the second such celebration of the anniversary of the destruction of the god of worms, Kyuss.  In truth, the festival was bittersweet, for when Kyuss fell in the city of Starmantle, over a thousand miles to the north of Tashluta, Starmantle and most of its populace fell with him.  Thus was born the Ebon Triad, and the burgeoning worship of the Lord of the End of All Things…Jergal.  In fact, many cities throughout Faerun did not mark the anniversary at all, but in Tashluta there truly was reason to celebrate, for in the jungles of Chult lay the Spire of Long Shadows, the former abode of Kyuss.  During Kyuss’ rebirth, a small army of undead had erupted from this place of ancient evil, along with several powerful demons known as broodfiends.  These creatures had descended on Tashluta, but they were destroyed by a band of powerful adventurers, including one local hero, Tillian Wanderfar, the proprietor of the Plucked Parrot.  So it was that the excitement of the festival could be felt throughout Tashluta.  

Lavinia Vanderboren, however, was not in a festive mood.  Since the revelations about her brother’s involvement in the death of her parents, her mind had been restless.  More and more her feelings of sorrow and despair had turned to anger.  She wanted Vanthus brought to justice for his crimes.  With this in mind, and at Anwar’s urging, she summoned the Legion to her manor once again.
“The information you provided to me indicated that Vanthus and Brissa were journeying to Kraken Cove,” she said once her team was assembled.  “There they were to meet a band of pirate smugglers, and this meeting was to occur this week.  Perhaps, if you make haste, you might still find my brother there.  I want him captured and returned if possible, or put to death if not.”  Her eyes were hard as she said this, and her lips were pressed razor-thin.
“I have heard of this place,” Basil spoke up.  “It lies some sixty miles west along the coast, on the eastern shore of Blood Bay.  It would be a long, grueling journey by land, mostly through trackless swamp.  Sea travel would be swifter.”
“Perhaps the Blue Nixie, my love?”  Anwar offered helpfully.  Lavinia looked pensive for a moment, then nodded decisively.
“An excellent idea, but you’ll have to find a crew to sail her.  The Shipwright’s Guild should be able to provide a proper outfit.”
“It’s settled then,” Anwar said.  “By sea we should be able to reach Kraken’s Cove in no more than two days.  We’ll bring your brother back, my Lady…dead or alive.”
_____________________________________________________

The Blue Nixie lay at anchor at sunset of the first day out from Tashluta.  It had been an uneventful journey up to that point, and the passengers and crew took their ease.  Gotr had positioned himself near the wheel, where he could more easily dispense his (unasked for) advice as to proper navigation, while Basil looked on in amusement.  Samson and Sepoto busied themselves about the main deck and foc’s’le, lending more appreciated help to the sailors.  Meanwhile, Thrisp had taken up residence in the captain’s quarters and was resting in relative comfort, while Marius and Anwar dosed below decks in the private guest cabins.  Xerxes wandered through the hold of the ship restlessly.  He didn’t like bathing, much less traveling on water by boat.  He couldn’t relax, but he certainly did not want to be on deck staring at those endless miles of liquid.  He found himself almost missing the sewer tunnels of the Lotus Dragons.

One of the seamen, a sailor by the name of Angus, was on duty in the crow’s nest that evening, and fortunately for the others onboard, the man took his job seriously.  Therefore, when the water around the ship began to churn, and slimy, scaled figures began clambering up the sides, Angus was the first to notice, and the first to sound the alarm.  Those on deck below instinctively looked up to where Angus was perched, when they should have been looking towards the sea.  Thus they found themselves suddenly surrounded by eight humanoids with webbed digits and sharp fangs.  They each had long tails, ending in curved fins, and they also bore fins on their arms, backs and heads.  Their great, staring eyes were deep black, and they all bore wickedly-barbed tridents.  
“Sea Devils!”  Angus cried.  In point of fact, the creatures were sahuagin, but the sailor’s description was appropriate.  The marine predators were marauders, preying on coastal villages and ships alike.  They were also merciless, killing all who stood against them, and enslaving all others.  Samson knew none of this.  He only knew that the creatures had boarded their ship without permission, and obviously bore them no good will.  This was enough for the dragon shaman.  Pulling his morningstar from his belt, he leapt down the foc’s’le stairs to the main deck, slugging one of the raiders as he reached the bottom.  As he moved, a sickly green corona surrounded him, and an acrid odor burned the nostrils of those nearby.  The sahuagin began surrounding him.  One jabbed with its trident, its tines pricking his chest before he batted it away.  As soon as his blood touched the air, it began to sizzle, and the sea devil which had struck him cried out in pain as its own flesh began to blister as well.

Below decks Xerxes heard the alarm and the sounds of battle from above.  Quickly he ran to the closed doors of the guest cabins and began hammering on them.
“We’re under attack!” he shouted, and then hustled towards the stairs.  Still in their bunks, Anwar and Marius awoke reluctantly, sleep-addled and confused at the noise and mayhem.  Blearily they hit the deck, opening their respective doors and peering dazedly at each other, and then at the ceiling above, where the melee raged on.

Gotr crouched behind the wheel as a trio of sahuagin advanced across the quarter deck.  The wheelman cowered in abject terror behind him.
“Come on, then ya slimy mackerel snappers!” the gnome snarled.  In answer, the marauders raised their weapons to strike, but then the priest spoke a single word which reverberated as loud as a thunderclap.  All three of the sahuagin grabbed their ears in agony, and one sagged to its knees, blood leaking from both auricles.  Meanwhile, Basil, who had rendered himself invisible when he first saw the raiders, drew a slender wand from his belt and pointed it at Sepoto who was still standing atop the foc’s’le.  
“Switcheroo!” he said.  The sea devils looked towards the space where the voice had come from, only to see a burly, chain-wrapped goliath suddenly appear out of thin air.  Still unseen, but now on the foc’s’le himself, Basil chuckled at his own ingenuity.

As the sahuagin still gaped in horror at its burning arm, Samson struck, smashing the creature’s skull in and then shouldering it over the side.  Pivoting where he stood, he caved in the chest of the devil he had already wounded, and it soon joined its mate back in the briny depths.  The odds where shifting, but he was still outnumbered three-to-one, and another of the raiders stabbed at him, piercing deeper this time, but suffering the same acidic burn for its effort as its brethren had.

The two sahuagin still standing near Gotr underwent a sudden transformation.  Their eyes widened even further, and foam began dripping from their snapping jaws.  In a blind frenzy, they flung themselves towards the gnome.  Gotr quickly brought up his bow, snapping off one shot at the nearest one before it reached him.  At the same time, Sepoto leaped over the wheel housing and crashed into the second raider, bearing it to the deck beneath him.  Two quick blows from his chain-shrouded fists ended its rage, and its life.  He regained his feet in one fluid motion, spun towards the other sahuagin and looped his chain around its neck from behind, strangling the life out of it.
“I coulda’ taken’im,” Gotr muttered.

Samson was still holding his own, but Basil could see the sea devils moving around to flank the dragon shaman.  Quickly the young wizard began casting, and from out of nowhere, a barrage of icy snow balls fell from the sky, pelting two of the sahuagin, bludgeoning them to death.  Just then, the door of the captain’s cabin flew open, and Thrisp appeared in the door.  He hurled his own spell at the last marauder facing Samson, striking it with a shockwave of power.  Staggered, it turned drunkenly towards its new assailant.  A fatal mistake, as Samson’s club cracked its neck.  The dragon shaman then rushed across the deck, towards where the last sahuagin was regaining its feet behind an unsuspecting Sepoto.  
“Watch out!” he shouted, but suddenly the sea devil leaped towards him, stabbing into his shoulder with its trident, and then sinking its teeth into his neck.  Abruptly, the creature let go, stumbling back as its mouth began to dissolve.  Blood and saliva combined in a gruesome tableau and the sahuagin collapsed to the deck in a jerking heap.

The hatch leading below deck suddenly burst open, revealing Xerxes, Anwar and Marius.  The dwarf and the seeker surveyed the carnage in amazement.  Anwar just yawned and stretched.
“Wake me when we reach Blood Bay,” he said, heading back towards his cabin.
_______________________________________________________

The following afternoon, the Blue Nixie rounded the western edge of Blood Bay.
“Here’s where we let’cha off,” the navigator said.  “The bay’s full’o reefs.  Only a mad man’d try and sail across’er.”
Anwar didn’t argue.  Gotr had confirmed this information when he had first viewed the maps of the area.  By prior arrangement, the Legion took a longboat to shore, and began making their way on foot around the bay to Kraken’s Cove.  The remainder of the day was spent slogging their way through the verdant overgrowth, until finally they reached a small game trail.  They were still a mile or more from the cove when they first spotted the plume of smoke coming from that direction.  
“I’d say Vanthus beat us here,” Gotr said.  
“Yes, but maybe he’s still there, enjoying his plunder,” Anwar answered.  “Let’s step it up a bit.”

As they traveled on, they began to notice that something was horribly wrong in this part of the bush.  Swaths of dead wildlife, from parrot to gull to monkey to snake, lay scattered across the ground, their bodies horribly distorted and deformed.  What few living animals they saw were similarly deformed, and shockingly aggressive.  As they watched, a pair of toucans with wickedly serrated beaks and bony protrusions sprouting from their heads, swooped down upon a two-headed ground squirrel, though one of the heads hung lifeless and limp from its neck.  In a matter of moments, the birds had ripped the squirrel’s limbs off and disemboweled it, all while it was still alive.
“What in the name of the All Seeing?”  Sepoto gasped, horrified.  At that moment, a commotion to their right drew their attention.  There, a group of four monkeys, their jaws filled with tiny fangs and their bodies covered with open sores from which hooked bonespurs protruded, came swarming out of the trees with alarming speed.  Apparently unafraid of humans three-times their size, they ran towards the group, shrieking and howling.

Basil barely had time to react, quickly conjuring a volley of arcane missiles, before the deranged monkeys were among them.  One of them leaped at Xerxes, who swung at it while it was still in mid-air with his axe.  He connected solidly, and what would have ordinarily cleaved the animal in two instead merely left a deep gouge in its purulent flesh.  A second one scrambled up Samson’s back, sinking its teeth into his neck, while a third flung itself at Sepoto.  The goliath also connected with his snapping chain, but again, the little monster was barely scathed.  Xerxes continued to hack at his assailant, but it kept at him, darting between his legs and nipping at his ankles.  
“Duck boy!”  Gotr yelled, just as the dwarf turned his back to him.  Xerxes heard the twang of the gnome’s bow, but he was too busy trying to evade the crazed simian to react.  Instead, he felt the arrow sink deep into his shoulder.
“I don’t need yer help!” he howled.
“I told you to duck,” Gotr sneered.

Samson snatched the monkey from his back, and hurled it to the ground.  As it skittered to its feet, he smashed his morning star across its back which cracked in an audible snap.  The beast began thrashing about in its death throes, and managed to snap at the dragon shaman’s foot before it finally died.  Then something truly incredible and horrifying happened.  The creature dissolved into a steaming pool of viscous, yellow fluid.  Samson stepped quickly back as the puddle expanded.  The putrid smell told him it was caustic.  What kind of insanity had happened here, he wondered.

Basil stumbled back from his pursuing assailant, hurling barrage after barrage of missiles.  The monkey jumped, but one final volley dropped it back to the ground, where it too began to dissolve.  Unfortunately, it happened to fall right at Gotr’s feet.  The gnome cursed roundly as his boots began to smoke and sizzle.  He didn’t see another of the tiny demons coming towards him, but a combined missile volley from Marius and Basil stopped it dead.  Meanwhile, Sepoto put an end to Xerxes opponent with one well placed blow.  The dwarf was red-face, both with pain and shame at his inability to stop a single monkey, lunatic though it may have been.

“Something terrible has happened,” Thrisp said as he stared at the acid pools, and the savaged bodies of the local fauna around them, “and I’m afraid Vanthus is behind it.”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Anwar said as he started once more down the trail.  “Just over this next ridge and we should be able to see the cove.”
He was right.  The company cleared the ridge top and found themselves atop a cliff, gazing down upon Kraken Cove some forty feet below.  The sight that greeted them was both terrible and tragic.  An inferno raged atop the water of the sheltered bay.  Several ships, including a two-masted caravel, a sizeable frigate, a long barge, and what might have once been a schooner, were all ablaze.  Further out, a three-masted caravel seemed to have escaped the fire for the moment.  A shiny slick on the surface of the water itself burned as well, creating a wall of wood and flame.  The heat rose in searing sheets, and the roar of the flaming maelstrom mixed with the crashing surf masked any other sounds that might have been issuing up from below.  Through periodic gaps in the smoke, however, movement on the beach was visible.  Something still lived in the inferno below.

“How we gonna get down there?”  Gotr asked.  “And do we even want to?”
“We have to,” Thrisp replied.  “We have to know what’s happened, and find Vanthus, alive or dead.”
“I can ferry most of you down,” Sepoto said, pulling a flask of sky-blue liquid from his belt pouch.  He quickly gulped it down, and as the others watched in amazement, he floated slowly into the air.  
“Thrisp, you and Gotr climb aboard,” he said.  “I’ll come back for the others once your down.”  The two gnomes scrambled onto the goliath’s shoulders.
“There are handholds in the cliff wall,” Samson observed.  “Xerxes and I will start climbing.  Once we know it’s safe, you can retrieve Anwar, Basil and Marius.”  Sepoto nodded, and then soared into the sky above the cove, circling lazily down towards the beach below.

The beach was approximately fifty feet at its widest, and it separated the burning waters of Kraken’s cove from the cliffs to the north.  A ten-foot wide cave opened at the base of the northwest cliff, while to the northeast, several planks provided a crude bridge across a tidal pool to a second, smaller cave entrance.  The swaths of blood and body parts strewn across the beach testified to a terrible and recent battle.  Broken crates and bamboo cages littered the area, blood and bits of bone sprayed across bolts of silk and cracked barrels of ambergris seeped into the coarse, rocky sand.  A number of mangled corpses, each stripped nearly clean of flesh, and bones cracked open, lay strewn about the beach.  The casualties were staggering, with a quick count putting the dead at nearly twenty.  As the trio landed in the shelter of the cliffs, Gotr caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye.  From the wreckage along the shore emerged three creatures.  They may once have been men, but now their gray skin, strangely flopping arms and legs, and the vacant-eyed, vestigial heads hanging from their necks made them anything but.  Perhaps worst of all were the creatures’ mouths, cavernous wounds in their twisted faces filled with a writhing landscape of teeth…mouths designed for only one thing…the tearing of flesh from bone.  Oddly, they were dressed in the remnants of sailor’s garb, and each clutched a curved scimitar in one hand.  They paused as they saw the three figures on the far side of the beach, but then they threw their heads back, shrieked inhumanly, and came charging across the sand.

As the first of the creatures approached, Sepoto snaked his chain out, wrapping it around the loping monster’s ankles, and sending it crashing into the dirt.  Gotr brought up his bow and sent an arrow straight into the neck of the next one, but the missile bounced harmlessly off of the thing’s dead, grey skin.  Sepoto swung his chain again, slashing into the same one, tearing a large chunk from one of its arms, but on it came.  Desperately, Thrisp spoke the words to a spell, sending a bright fan of brilliant colors from his fingers.  With any normal creature, the color spray would have temporarily knocked it senseless, but the savage pirates were completely unaffected.  The one that Sepoto had tripped sprang nimbly to its feet, and when the goliath struck again, the creature seized the chain in mid-strike, jerking it with a strength that belied its size.  Sepoto hadn’t expected this, and when he tried to keep the weapon from being snatched from his hands, he stumbled, sprawling face-first at the feet of the pirate.

“They’re in trouble,” Basil said, gazing down at the battle below.
“You think?”  Marius snapped.  The war mage rolled up his sleeves, spoke a sharp word, and a barrage of magic missiles streaked towards the beach, striking one of the misanthropes in the back.
“Oh.”  Basil said, looking chagrined.  “Good idea.”  The young wizard loosed his own volley, and was rewarded by the creature’s cries of pain and the frustrated shaking of its fist at the prey it could not reach.

Meanwhile, Samson had made it about three-fourths of the way down the cliff wall, climbing as fast as he dared to come to the aid of his friends.  Above him, Xerxes was having trouble.  The stocky dwarf’s heavy armor was proving a hindrance, and when he lowered one foot, searching for the next toe-hold, he slipped.  The weight of his gear dragged him down, and he tumbled from the cliff top.  Samson reflexively reached out as the dwarf fell past him, but the effort caused the dragon shaman to lose his own balance, and he to plummeted, though only for about ten feet.  Still, both warriors ended up prone on the beach, mere feet away from the slavering pirates, who turned slowly to gaze at the fresh meat that had fallen into their midst.

Sepoto scrambled to his feet, but the pirate in front of him slashed his shoulder with its scimitar as he rose.  Then the creature somersaulted away from the goliath, heading towards Xerxes.  Sepoto swung as the thing moved, slashing it again, but still it reached its destination.  One of its brethren beat it there, and as the groaning dwarf struggled to sit up, the pirate sank its teeth into his face, tearing loose a flap of hanging flesh.  Xerxes eyes went wide, then rolled back into his head as he collapsed back to the sand.  The second pirate leaned towards him, preparing to tear his throat out, but another volley of arcane bolts from Marius blew a sizeable hole in the creature’s chest.  It collapsed to the ground beside the dwarf, but as it did, it began to dissolve.  Unfortunately, both the dwarf and Samson were caught in the spreading pool of acid.  Samson quickly rolled to his feet, suffering a glancing bite from the nearest pirate as he did so.  The acid burned his flesh, but only superficially.  He was horrified, however, to see it slowly eating away at Xerxes’ skin.  He didn’t know if the dwarf was dead or alive, but if he still breathed, it wouldn’t be for much longer.  Samson leaped at the pirate, beating it with his morningstar at the same time that another blast of missiles, courtesy of Basil, struck the beast.

Sepoto took a step towards Samson, but at that moment, the third pirate leaped onto his back, biting and snapping at his neck.  Snarling, the goliath punched at the monster again and again with his chain-wrapped fists until it too collapsed into liquid, drenching the crusader as it did so.  Sepoto howled in agony, dropping to the ground and rolling as if he were on fire.  Gotr rushed quickly to his side, laying his hands on the thrashing goliath and muttering a brief prayer.  Sepoto’s pain eased, and his wounds stopped seeping, but he was still too weak to regain his feet.  At that moment, there was a cracking sound, like splitting rock.  Then a hail of fist-sized stones erupted out of the air above the last savage pirate.  Marius had conjured the barrage, and in seconds the pirate collapsed beneath the miniature avalanche…right next to Xerxes.  Once more the dwarf was engulfed in acid, and when Samson saw the bone visible beneath his melted flesh, he knew the brave mercenary was no more.


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## EvolutionKB

Wow.  Intense.


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## demiurge1138

I just love monsters with death throes, don't you? 

This path is turning out to be rather casualty-heavy in the early stages. Fun for us readers, maybe not so much for those playing in it. Any idea what the replacement character will be?

Demiurge out.


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## JollyDoc

demiurge1138 said:
			
		

> I just love monsters with death throes, don't you?
> 
> This path is turning out to be rather casualty-heavy in the early stages. Fun for us readers, maybe not so much for those playing in it. Any idea what the replacement character will be?
> 
> Demiurge out.




Actually, there probably will not be one, as the player who played Xerxes will not be returning to the game.  We will probably be losing one more player as well (though I won't give away details at this point), and one other player may be changing PC's.  Fun, fun!!


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## Neverwinter Knight

Now that's just cruel! At least it doesn't affect the entire party like the old balor the party just barely managed to beat. 

gfunk, now that you've become fed up with Anwar, what are you going to play next?


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## Schmoe

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> gfunk, now that you've become fed up with Anwar, what are you going to play next?




Wait a minute.  Did I miss something?  I thought gfunk was enjoying Anwar.  I know I was, anyway.


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## Zaruthustran

What? Anwar is going away? nooooooooo


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## Neverwinter Knight

Relax, I'm just guessing! A bit provokatively, I admit.


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## Need_A_Life

Well, as much as I enjoyed Anwar, I can actually see him leaving the SH without it being contrieved.

Hope he stays, though.

Gfunk seems to play the most interesting characters (though I never liked Pez, the Dispenser of Justice), and diplomacy and barefaced lying seems to be an interesting new style.


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## JollyDoc

You'll all just have to be patient boys and girls....


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## JollyDoc

Sunday Night Teaser
__________________



1)  One of the Legion goes AWOL

2)  The remaining members begin delving into the caves of Kraken Cove, where they interrupt an interesting feast, meet a crazed denizen from the Isle of Dread, go head-to-head with a kindly fellow named Ripclaw, and bravely face down a pack of krenshars...only to flee in panic...twice!


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## Graywolf-ELM

Gaah patience.  I guess I have learned all I am capable of in that regard.  Characters of character are unfolding here, hmmm.

GW


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## Neverwinter Knight

Hey JollyDoc,

don't you want to get that burden off your chest, I mean your typing fingers? 
Just teasing back, since you really got me wondering about the AWOL.


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## JollyDoc

Yes, yes...but the work of genius cannot be rushed!  With any luck...update by tomorrow.


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## JollyDoc

THE OLD ORDER CHANGETH

Gotr knelt beside the melted remains of Xerxes for many long moments after Sepoto had retrieved Anwar, Marius and Basil from the cliff.  Finally, Thrisp placed a comforting hand on the other gnome’s shoulder.
“We have to go,” he said gently.  “It’s going to be dark soon.  Don’t blame yourself.”
At that Gotr wrenched himself away from the beguiler, snarling like a feral animal.
“Don’t worry!” he spat.  “I’m not blaming myself!  I’m blaming this!”  He tore the symbol of Oghma from around his neck, holding it out as if in accusation.  “The only reason I joined this ridiculous sect was so’s I could find a place to hide out for a time until certain folks had forgotten about me.  I told myself not to believe their nonsense and drivel, and for awhile I didn’t.  Then I met you lot, and I actually allowed myself to think there might be something to this whole ‘faith in a higher power’ thing after all.  More the fool me!  This is what happens when you go trusting anyone or anything but yourself!”  
He turned and hurled the medallion into the surf, where it disappeared into the flaming waves.
“That goes for all of you as well,” he said, turning back, defeat in his eyes.  “I’m no lackey.  I’ll make my way on my own, or not at all.  You can continue this fool’s quest without me.  I’m done.”  He began walking towards the cliff wall, where he grasped a handful of thick vines and started scaling the rough surface.  The others stared after him in disbelief.
“Are we just going to let him go?”  Samson asked them, though it was Anwar that his gaze settled on.  The bard shrugged.
“What do you propose we do?  Club him and tie him up?  He’s a big boy, capable of making his own decisions.  Anyone not fully committed to this is dead weight.  Lavinia sent me with you to insure her interests.  If there is anyone else who has doubts about what we’re doing here, speak up now.”  He waited several moments, and when none of the group stepped forward, he nodded.
“I expect we’ll find what’s left of him on our trek back to the Blue Nixie.  If it makes you feel better, you can bury him.  Maybe I’ll even say a few kind words over his grave, perhaps even an ode.”  He chuckled as he started across the beach towards the wreckage and debris.  Thrisp stared after him.  The gnome had thought that he’d sold his own soul into darkness, but getting to know Anwar had shown him just how black a heart could truly be.

Anwar stood staring out across waters of the cove at the sole unburned ship which lay at anchor a safe distance from the inferno.
“I think this is where we part company for a time,” he said absently when the others joined him.
“What are you talking about?”  Thrisp asked, confused.
“From the looks of things on this beach, Vanthus and his cronies weren’t exactly diplomatic in their negotiations with the smugglers they met here,” the bard replied.  “It would stand to reason that the violence carried on into the caves there.  If Vanthus is still here, he’s likely hold up somewhere inside.  I have full confidence that you five can flush him out and deal with whatever survivors are left from this massacre.  I doubt my unique talents will be needed.  No, I’m going out to that ship and have a look around.  I find it more than a coincidence that it’s unharmed.”
“Are you crazy?”  Samson gasped.  “What if it’s unharmed because it’s Vanthus’ ship?  What if he’s out there, or he’s left some of his men there?”
“Unlikely,” Anwar said.  “and if I do run into any trouble, I am, after all, a master of disguise.”  He touched his beret and his form shimmered before assuming the likeness of Vanthus himself.
“Run along now, and I’ll meet up with you back on the beach by nightfall.”  Thrisp looked dubious, but he shrugged and began walking back up the beach, his companions following, with more than one casting a suspicious glance over his shoulder.
________________________________________________________

As Anwar neared the caravel, pulling at the oars of a small skiff he’d salvaged from the flotsam on the beach, he found himself most impressed by the sight of the ship.  Something he couldn’t give voice to told him that the vessel was more than it appeared, and his fate, and that of his companions, would be tied inextricably to it.  Her sails were decorated with stylized figures of a wyvern, its tail raised over its back as though ready to strike its enemies.  Even the figurehead carried the motif of a powerful wyvern, its wings unfurled.  The ship appeared to have seen plenty of action, as its hull was scarred in many places by scratches and dents, and a single huge claw mark raked across the starboard.  Near the prow was the nameplate:  Sea Wyvern.
_________________________________________________________

“Do you still trust him?”  Sepoto asked Thrisp as they entered the wide opening into the sea caves.  The walls were of smooth, wet stone, and stalactites hung from the ceiling in places.  Sand was spread across the floor, making the footing less treacherous.  Some thirty feet ahead, the main passage split, and a cheap hooded lantern hung there, shedding dim light.
“What do you mean, ‘still’?”  Thrisp answered.  “I never trusted him, but he hasn’t given me reason to cross him…yet.  Anwar says he is serving Lavinia’s interests, but make no mistake, he serves none but his own.  As long as we remember that, we’ll do fine.  Now, the rest of you wait here, within sight of the entrance.  I’m going to scout ahead a bit.  If I’m not back in five minutes, you’re on your own.”

As the gnome ducked into the shadows and moved further down the passage, he noticed that the passage was not as barren as he had first thought.  Gobbets of flesh and large swaths of blood stained the sand on the floor, while deep scratches scored the walls.  Anwar had been right:  whatever battle had been fought on the beach had also been fought here…and was still going on apparently, for now Thrisp could hear distant howls and shrieks, punctuated by occasional bursts of maniacal laughter and the clanging of metal on metal.  Reaching the fork, he couldn’t determine from which direction the sounds were loudest, so he chose the left fork at random.  After another thirty paces or so, the tunnel opened into a large cavern that must have served as a mess hall.  The large tables lay in ruins, and to the north, dozens of barrels that once contained fresh water and food stores had been smashed to splinters.  Bodies lay throughout the cave in various stages of dismemberment and consumption.  One table still stood upright, and seated there were three of the deformed pirates, staring hungrily at the far corner.  There, in a small kitchen area, stood another of the mutants dressed in cook’s whites and wielding a meat cleaver deftly on the remains of another unfortunate soul laid out on the slab before him.  Thrisp felt his gorge rise and the sight, and had to quickly stifle a gasp.  Quietly he crept back the way he’d come and then moved down the right-hand passage.

The second corridor also ended in a large open area, though the exact dimensions could not be seen for dozens of bolts of once-fine brocaded silk hung from lines of rope stretched lengthwise across the ceiling.  Thrisp had no desire to explore the maze alone, so he quickly made his way back to his companions to report what he’d found.
“I’m always in favor of the devil you know, versus the one you don’t,” Sepoto said when he heard their choices.
“I tend to agree,” Thrisp said.  “The passage leading to the mess hall is no more than ten feet wide.  I can enter the room and get their attention while the rest of you wait at the fork.  When they follow, we’ll have them bottlenecked where Samson and Sepoto can do what they do best.”
The others acknowledged that it was a sound plan, and so once again the wily gnome entered the slaughter house.

“Hey you!”  Thrisp shouted as he stepped out of the shadows.  The butcher looked up, wide-eyed and his three dinner guests turned their heads as well.  “Why don’t you try some fresh meat?” the gnome shouted, and then darted back down the passage.  Snarling and moving with terrifying speed, the nightmarish quartet gave chase.  As they appeared around a bend, Marius was ready.  Using the same magic he called upon to good effect on the beach, he caused a hail of fist-sized stone to rain down upon the savage pirates.  At the same time, Basil cast his own spell, creating a patch of slippery grease beneath the feet of the creatures.  As they began to slip and slide on the slick floor, Samson and Sepoto struck.  Instantly one of the savages went down beneath their attack, dissolving into a steaming pool which the warriors nimbly side-stepped.  Just then the cook dove towards Sepoto.  The crusader whipped his chain out, intending to catch the pirate around the legs, but the burly butcher was too fast.  He caught the chain with both hands, heedless of the deep scores its spikes made in his flesh, and pulled.  Sepoto was yanked forward, into the oil slick where he promptly lost his footing and sat down…hard.  The cook snarled, lunging with his cleaver at his helpless victim, but Samson was a fraction of a second faster.  The dragon shaman stepped between the goliath and the pirate, smashing his morningstar into the cook’s head.  By that time Sepoto had regained his feet and his weapon, which snapped lightning quick into the pirate’s eye.  A second acid pool joined the first.  The remaining two pirates were still struggling to stand in the grease, and it was the work of only a moment for Sepoto and Samson to dispatch them as well.
______________________________________________________

Beyond the mess hall a narrow passage exited to the northeast.  Thrisp guessed that the direction it ran would intersect with the silk labyrinth he’d seen earlier.  Perhaps entering the chamber from a different approach would reveal more.  So, single file, the group set off down the darkened corridor.

Malicious eyes watched the company from the shadows of the ceiling above.  There crouched Navesh Wyvernsting, once a bosun aboard the Slippery Eel, but now something else entirely.  Sizzling drool dribbled from his fanged, misshapen mouth as he watched the warm meat pass beneath him.  Several of them wore armor, but he was more interested in the ones that didn’t.
“Ssssoftiessss!” he hissed to himself.  Waiting for just the right moment, he dropped.

Basil screamed as the thing landed on his back and sank a wickedly-hooked kukri into the soft space behind his clavicle.  
“Come to me, meatbag!” it hissed in his ear.  “Just gives me a mouthful of your tasssty pink flesssh!”  
“Help!” the mage screamed again.  “Get if off me!  Get it off me!”
At the front of the column Sepoto spun about.  At first he couldn’t understand what he was seeing.  Basil was thrashing around, slamming his back over and over into the wall behind him.  Something clung there like a giant leech or insect.  As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, the goliath saw the creature more clearly.  It resembled a cross between a monkey and a raccoon, but between its arms and legs were thin membranes, like a flying squirrel.  Its gray-brown fur was matted with blood and bits of gory tissue, and it clutched a weapon in its writhing, boneless fingers.  Sepoto fumbled for a wand tucked in his belt, pointed it at Basil and shouted, “Switcheroo!”  An instant later he stood where the mage had been a moment before, staring down at the momentarily confused little beast.  

It took Navesh only a moment to regain his bearings.  His prey had escaped temporarily, but there was another softie beyond the giant with the chain.  Darting between Sepoto’s legs, the feral creature rushed towards Marius.  Basil watched in horror as the demonic thing came towards him again.  Uttering a spell, he vanished from view and began backing farther up the tunnel.  Not watching where he was going, he soon found himself standing in a large, dimly lit room with silks hung like billowing walls all around him.  He had wandered into the area Thrisp had told them about.  At that moment he heard something…something that sounded suspiciously like the scrape of claws on stone.  He also smelled a strong, rotten animal musk… and it was getting stronger.

Thrisp recognized the creature, or rather what type of creature it had once been.  It was a phanaton, a race of small arboreal creatures found on a mysterious island known as the Isle of Dread.  The beguiler had read about them, and seen a drawing of one in Larissa Vaderboren’s journal.  Strange that one should be here.  By Larissa’s account they were peaceful, but this one had obviously fallen victim to the same madness that gripped every other being they had met since arriving in the cove.  He didn’t have time to ponder the question further, however, as the wily thing was giving Sepoto and Samson fits by racing around and over them, striving to reach Marius.
“Clear the hall!”  Sepoto finally bellowed, and Marius hustled forward, while Thrisp went back.  
“No!  Stop!”  Basil’s disembodied voice shouted from beyond Marius.  “There’s something in the room here, and it’s coming this way!”
“Then just stay clear!”  Sepoto yelled back.  Finally, he and the dragon shaman managed to trap the beast between them, and as it ran this way and that, stabbing at them with its blade and snapping with its teeth, they were able to land their own blows, wearing the phanaton down until it collapsed, boiling away into a steaming pool.

Before they could savor their victory, however, an ear-splitting roar sounded from the end of the hall.  There stood a lizard-like creature, walking on two legs.  It was taller than Sepoto, and had a mouthful of curved teeth, as well as two large foreclaws, and a cruel-looking barb behind each foot.  Its back writhed with wriggling tentacles, several of which weeped pus.  Thrisp thought it was a deinonychus, a dinosaur also known as a velociraptor.  They too could be found on the Isle of Dread.  Just where had these pirates come from?  Again, he was not allowed the luxury of time to think about it as he heard Basil’s frightened squeak come from barely a yard away from the monster.  Though the dinosaur could not see the wizard, it lifted its snout, sniffing the air hungrily.  Samson rushed forward, shouldering past the invisible mage, and slamming his cudgel into the animal’s heavily-muscled neck.  It barely seemed to notice, retaliating and closing its powerful jaws around the dragon shaman’s forearm.

Basil ran past the struggling pair, heading towards the far side of the room, ripping down silk tapestries as he went.  When he reached the opposite wall, he turned and spoke a spell, calling down a rain of hail and snow upon the horrifying creature.  Immediately the young wizard reappeared, his spell ending.  The dinosaur roared and turned its baleful eyes towards him.  Basil felt his heart pounding in his chest as the beast crouched, preparing to charge.  At that moment, a glowing orb of fire struck it from behind and Basil saw Marius standing in the mouth of the tunnel.  The dinosaur’s head swung back in that direction, just in time to meet a devastating blow from Sepoto.  As the crusader struck, a wave of energy flowed from him and into Samson, stanching the blood flow from his wounded arm.  Now, however, Sepoto had the creature’s full attention.  Lowering its head, it rammed into the goliath, ripping with teeth and claws as it came.  Sepoto found himself borne backwards several places.  Centering his mind, he concentrated on the wounds he’d suffered.  Though they were gaping and jagged, no blood flowed from them, so precise was the crusader’s control over his own metabolism.  Still, he knew he couldn’t keep it up for long.  And he didn’t have to.  Suddenly, the dinosaur’s feet slipped from under it as a puddle of oily grease appeared beneath it.  As it fell, it lashed out blindly, biting into Samson’s wounded arm a second time.  It rolled onto its back as it hit the ground, thrashing wildly and snapping at anything near.  Samson and Sepoto closed simultaneously, hammering away at the abomination at the same time as twin spells, one of frost and one of fire, struck it, courtesy of Basil and Marius.  The raptor writhed one final time, then slowly dissolved.
________________________________________________________

The companions tended their wounds and regrouped in the room of silks without further incident, though they all now clearly heard the constant wails and shrieks coming from somewhere further into the complex.  The silks in the room proved to be mostly worthless, the majority of them having disgusting trails of yellowish smears on them left behind by the raptor.  Four passages other than the one they’d entered from branched off the cave, one each to the northeast, northwest, southeast and southwest.  Thrisp was certain the southwestern tunnel was the one he’d originally entered the room by.  To the northwest, the cacophonous noises were loudest, and halfway down the passage, someone had erected a stout barricade in a doorway, presumably to keep something out.  Thrisp and the others decided to leave off exploration of that path for the moment, in favor of the northeast one.  Quietly, the gnome scouted ahead, gradually picking up a pungent, wet-dog smell as well as occasional grunts and snarls.  Shortly, he found himself peering into a room in which the bodies of three strange creatures lay in a mangled heap in the center, their corpses torn apart and gnawed down to the bone.  It was difficult to tell what manner of wolf-like or hyena-like animals they once were.  Spiked collars lay empty beside the decapitated remains, with chains running from each to iron hooks in the walls.  Four more of the beasts stood, still chained, squabbling over what mean was left on the bones of their comrades.  These larger versions had huge jaws, and large patches of their mangy fur was missing, revealing leprous skin covered with writhing tendrils.  Thrisp sighed to himself.  Was their no end to these freaks of nature?  And where was Vanthus in all this?

The gnome crept back to his friends and apprised them of the situation.  Nodding in resignation, they steeled themselves for yet another life-or-death battle and advanced cautiously up the hall.  The four krenshars, for that is what they were, turned to the entryway when they heard the approaching clank of armor.  Suddenly, the most horrific thing happened.  The skin of the beasts’ faces literally peeled back as they snarled to reveal their bare skulls beneath.  The brutes set up a terrific clamor of high-pitched wails at the same time.  The combination of their terrifying visages and the bone-chilling cries shook even Sepoto’s nerve.  Not realizing what he was doing, the big goliath turned and began fleeing back the way he’d come, all of his companions on his heels…save Marius.  The seeker had been bringing up the rear, and so had not yet seen the krenshars, though he could certainly hear their calls.  The only thing he saw were all four of his comrades running pell-mell back down the hallway and disappearing into the silk maze.  The war mage was dumbfounded, completely bewildered by what had just happened.  This group had faced undead, pirates, and now the mutated monstrosities that inhabited the sea caves and had barely batted an eye.  Now they were running from scary watchdogs?  A full minute passed as the Seeker wondered if he should follow them, or just wait.  Then he saw them returning, one-by-one, red-faced with heads down.
“We’ll try this again,” Thrisp said as he passed, with no other word of explanation.  The others were equally silent, and simply filed into the corridor once more.  Marius waited.

This time when the beasts began their yipping and yapping, only Thrisp and Samson ran.  Marius shook his head and suppressed a smile.  Anwar would give them hell for this when he found out.  The mage entered the tunnel, only to find Sepoto squared off against the krenshars, all four straining at the end of their leads.  
“We’re not waiting,” the goliath announced, and then he waded in.  By the time Thrisp and Samson returned from their second panicked flight, the krenshars were no more, and Sepoto, Basil and Marius couldn’t wait for the ribbing to begin.


----------



## gfunk

Ah ha!  So that's what the Legion was up to while I was gone.  Very interesting . . .


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

That's cruel, JollyDoc!  Poor Thrisp and Samson - as far as I can remember, only Entropy (defeated by a kobold) and Pavel (succumbed to fear and lost his two best friends) have suffered worse. 

They can be glad Anwar wasn't there...or was he?


----------



## gfunk

*Sunday Night Update*

1. Anwar returns but Gotr (and Sepoto and Samson) are gone.  A party of three mages and a bard boldly strides back into Kraken's Cove.

2. What would be a 2 round inconvenience for Sepoto, in the form of 3 savage pirates, turns out to be quite the quandary for our depleted band.  Ingenuity is in order to carry the day.

3. The party encounters a Scarlet Corsair taking on a horde of savage pirates.  A few area of effect spells later . . . 

4. Harliss immediately takes a dislike to the party when they mention Vanthus.  Of course, a +37 diplomacy check (@ 3rd level!) goes a long way in helping that . . .

5. With our new "meat shield" in tow, we rapidly waste the remaining inhabitants of the Cove.

6. We rush back to Tashluta to "save" Lavinia.  Despite anti-heroic efforts to the contrary, the party saves the populace . . . again.  However, this momentary act of kindness is more than offset by an act of fiery mass murder.


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Sorry I missed it sounds like you had alot of fun.


----------



## JollyDoc

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> Sorry I missed it sounds like you had alot of fun.




Well it WAS your anniversary.  I would hope that you had more fun...but I doubt it.


----------



## R-Hero

Gotr will have to step out for a while with _real life _ issues in the way. 
Hopefully he will make a return before too much longer...I see some potential fun play in this one! 

Savage tides are a good read, playing or no.


----------



## WarEagleMage

Flaming Mass Murder!  It was more like Flaming Mass Self-Defense!  And if we'd just had a bit o' _Grease_ (and some vertebrates for party members), things might have been much simpler...


----------



## gfunk

WarEagleMage said:
			
		

> Flaming Mass Murder!  It was more like Flaming Mass Self-Defense!  And if we'd just had a bit o' _Grease_ (and some vertebrates for party members), things might have been much simpler...




Well, in the update that was just me (gfunk) taking the moral high ground.  Anwar, on the other hand, whole-heartedly agrees with your analysis.  In fact, he thinks the little bastards had it coming anyway.  However, he has a policy of not killing "innocent" people when others are far more capable of doing the job for him.


----------



## Joachim

Update dammit!!  And I want to see a quote by Marius like this:

"Fighters?!?  We don' need no stinkin' FIGHTERS!!"

In all seriousness, last week with the bard and 3 arcanists party was the most fun I have had in a while, and I want to see how it appears in narrative form.


----------



## JollyDoc

Your wish is my command...

WE DON’T NEED NO STINKIN’ FIGHTERS!

Thrisp stared in disgust.  Dozens of five-foot wide iron cages were built into the walls of the large room in which he stood.  Some were empty, while others contained the partially eaten remains of dead men and women.  Most disturbing were those that contained thrashing, wailing figures.  Each seemed more deformed than the last.  Twisting legs, writhing arms, vestigial heads and jaws agape with too many teeth were all on display as the mad prisoners howled and slobbered and threw themselves against the walls of their cells in a frenzied attempt to break free.  This was the source of the cacophony the Legion members had been hearing since they entered the sea caves.  
“Pathetic,” the gnome muttered before returning to the others, who were still huddled over the contents of three sea chests they had stumbled upon in a trophy room beyond the kennel.  
“I think it’s time we checked in with Anwar,” he announced after he’d told them of his gruesome discovery.  “I don’t think Vanthus is here.  We’re wasting our time.”  

When they returned to the beach, they found the bard already there, dragging the skiff onto the shore.
“Well?” he asked as they approached.  Thrisp filled him in on all they had encountered and his ultimate conclusion.  He listened attentively, and nodded when the gnome had finished.
“I concur,” he said.  “It’s obvious that Vanthus carried out his plan, but it’s just as obvious that something went wrong.  That ship, the Sea Wyvern, is completely abandoned, though unharmed.  It’s possible Vanthus and Brissa took another ship and left with their crew.  Still, just to be safe, we’d best check out the remainder of the complex.  Sepoto, I don’t think we’ll be needing you and Samson.  I want you to go back to the Blue Nixie so that the crew doesn’t become doubtful of our return and abandon us here.  We’ll be along in a few hours.”
The goliath looked dubious, but shrugged.  “If you’re sure.  I’ve had my fill of slavering, cannibalistic pirates for awhile anyway.”  
He and the dragon shaman then took their leave, scaling the cliffs and setting off into the jungle once more.
_____________________________________________________________

Thrisp led the others back into the caves and back to the kennels.  There were only two passages they had not yet explored, one leading due east, and the other south.  Leaving his colleagues behind, he set off down the eastern passage, and soon found himself in a natural twisting, turning labyrinth.  As he turned one sharp corner, he came face-to-face with another of the deformed pirates, standing as still as a statue in the corridor before him.  Fortunately, so stealthy was the beguiler that the creature didn’t even register his presence, though he stood barely more than a yard away.  Quietly, Thrisp retraced his steps, and hurried another direction, though always making his way east.  Twice more he came upon pirates, standing just as still as their brethren, and each time he easily circumvented them.  Finally, he found a single, wide passage leading from the maze, and as he began to follow it, he heard, faint but distinct, the unmistakable slobbering cries of rage and hunger from what sounded like a large number of savages, and a woman’s voice shouting profane threats and curses.  Curious, Thrisp crept forward past a turn in the passage.  The sounds still came from directly ahead, but beyond yet another turn.  Immediately to his left was an archway into a small cave.  The cave had been outfitted with the finest in stolen furniture.  Thick rugs covered the floor, and fine silk tapestries and masterful seascape paintings hung from the walls, giving the room an almost regal feel.  A four-poster bed took up much of a large nook, and nearby stood an oak desk with a matching armoire.  Most of the furnishings were ruined, spattered with gore and deeply scarred by swordplay.  A skeletal body dressed in the ruins of once-fine leather armor lay in a red heap at the foot of the bed.

Thrisp resisted the urge to investigate the opulent chamber when he heard the woman’s shouts again.  Sighing, he quickly back-tracked through the labyrinth to his companions and made his report.
“A damsel in distress, you say?”  Anwar asked.  “Perhaps Vanthus abandoned his lady friend when he left.  Do you think you can get us past the pirates in the maze so we can assess the situation?”
“I think so,” Thrisp answered, “provided you can at least try and be quiet.”
_________________________________________________________


Quickly, Thrisp, Basil and Marius wove spells of Invisibility about all but the gnome himself.  The wily beguiler needed no such concealment, so adept was he at blending with the shadows.  Stealthily, he led them back through the twisting tunnels, careful to avoid the passages where he had encountered the savages.  They were within sight of the exit tunnel when he heard a sharp boot scuff and a muttered oath.  Basil had tripped.  Within moments the gurgling cry of one of the pirates echoed from a side tunnel, and shortly thereafter the thing shambled into view, looking this way and that for its prey.  Thrisp quickly motioned to the others to stop.  Barely breathing he watched as the pirate paused at the intersection, its misshapen head swinging from side to side.  Abruptly, it turned right, east, and shuffled off in that direction, then came to a stop in the archway of the exit…blocking their path.

Before Thrisp could do or say anything, he heard Anwar’s voice from behind him intoning the words to a spell, and the rustle of parchment.  The bard was using a scroll.  Suddenly, another pirate appeared out of thin air between the group and the savage, this one normal.  Thrisp recognized it immediately as a figment, conjured by Anwar’s spell.  Fortunately, the savage did not.  Howling, it turned and rushed towards the illusory pirate, hacking and slashing with its scimitar.  Anwar caused the specter to dodge and flee back the direction from which they’d come.  Predictably, the feral pirate followed.  Just then, a second savage appeared in front of the illusion.  It too growled hungrily and charged forward.  Just as it and its companion were about to reach their quarry, the figment vanished, and they collided clumsily.  Enraged, they tore and bit at one another while Anwar and his fellows slipped quietly away.
__________________________________________________________

At the end of the passage, they found themselves in a spacious cavern, the floor of which sloped downward to the southeast before ending in a large tidal pool.  A hammock strung between two stalagmites swayed gently to the south next to an overturned table and a broken chair.  Before this table stood a throng of a half-dozen or more of the savages, all howling and moaning as they strained to reach their victim.  This was a bold beauty with raven-black hair that flowed like the deepest shade of midnight against her deeply tanned skin.  She wore tight leather armor studded with fire opals and pearls, and she held a curved rapier in one hand and a dagger in the other.  She had managed to place the table between herself and her attackers, creating a bottleneck where they could not flank her without blundering into the pool to her right.  
“Ye picked the wrong lass to make of meal of today!” she taunted the misbegotten mob.  “Hungry?” she laughed.  “Have a taste o’me cold steel, ya stinking carcass!”

“I don’t think that’s Brissa,” Thrisp whispered to his unseen friends.
“Not likely,” he heard Anwar respond.  “She looks like she can use those blades she’s holding well enough, but if we assist her, she might be…grateful.”
Thrisp could almost hear the leer in the bard’s voice.  
“Marius, see what you can do,” Anwar suggested.  Still invisible, the Seeker stepped into the room, and pushed back his sleeves.  Shouting the words to his incantation, he momentarily brought the melee in the corner to a halt as nine pairs of eyes turned in his direction.  A moment later, the air exploded with falling rocks, and the savages found themselves bombarded by the avalanche.  Instantly, the warmage was visible again.

“Oi!” the woman swashbuckler called out.  “Get in the fight or stay outta me way, bucko!  These things are lookin’ to die, and I plan on obliging!”
“Get in the fight?” Marius muttered.  “What does she think I’m doing?”  His eyes grew wide as he saw the horde of savages dispersing.  Three of them moved with horrifying speed straight towards him, while three more moved to the middle of the room, waiting to see whom their fellows would leave for them to feed upon.  The first two of the charging trio reached Marius before he had a chance to step back into the tunnel.  The mage threw up his hands in a vain attempt to ward off their blows, and their blades cut deep into his forearms, one all the way to the bone.

Thrisp noted Marius’ plight, but believed the others would be able to aid him.  The woman was still on her own and still facing two of the twisted pirates.  Quickly the gnome began his own spell, sending a  surge of colored lights at the savage nearest to her.  The brute screamed and clawed at its eyes as the vivid display temporarily blinded it.  Simultaneously, all the color was leached from Thrisp, and he faded slowly from view.  His pride in his accomplishment quickly vanished as it seemed that the lady was not in need of his help after all.  She was poetry in motion, moving as smoothly as silk in the wind.
“Jebediah?” she called.  “Is that you lad?  You’ve looked better boy.  Here, let me send you on your way!”  Her blade seemed an extension of her arm as it darted forward in three quick jabs, each one piercing a vital spot on her blind opponent.  With a final snapping of its jaws, the creature dissolved into a hissing pool at her feet.

“Inspiring,” Anwar murmured as he watched the woman move.  “I have just the song.”  Pulling his lute from his back, the bard began to sing.  It was a truly motivational tune, one about a lady referred to only as a ‘Man-eater.’  Even his allies were struck by the combination of his words and the swordswoman’s fighting prowess.  It was epic.

Thrisp was correct about Marius.  He was not alone.  As savages hemmed him in on all sides, a swarm of snow and ice balls began pelting them from above.  Basil winked into view beyond the encircling pirates and gave the warmage the thumbs-up.  Marius nodded, then bowed his head.  Suddenly, an explosion of flames fanned out from him, leaving him unscathed but incinerating two of the three pirates.

From his position within the concealing shadows of the near wall, Thrisp hurled his own magic at the three savages still waiting in the room’s center.  A net of living shadows dropped over them, limiting their vision and preventing them from charging in to reinforce their fallen brethren.  Two of them began stumbling blindly towards the two wizards, while the third began moving back towards the swordswoman.  

For her part, the daring lady was making her battle look easy in comparison.  Another of the pirates fell under her whirling blades, as did the last of her opponents as it blundered into her, still wrapped in its shadowy cocoon.  Leaping over the table, she started towards her would-be rescuers, but she saw that her assistance would not be needed.  Another barrage of fire and ice from Marius and Basil destroyed the last three savages, but not before one of them managed to sink its fangs into the warmage’s calf.

As the last of the caustic pools dissipated, the woman sheathed her blade and regarded the company with a cold, appraising eye as she caught her breath.  After a moment, she called across the room to them:  “What manner of driftwood do we have here?  Speak up!  Your names, lubbers!  If only so’s I can cut’em inta’ yer chests and save the undertaker some askin’round.”  Of course it was Anwar who stepped to the front of his companions, doffing his beret and sketching a deep bow.
“My compliments, my lady on your swordplay,” he said, rising.  “Are you part of the crew of the Sea Wyvern?”
“Crew?” she laughed.  “Hah!  I’m captain of the Slippery Eel.  Harliss Javell’s me name, and the Sea Wyvern’s another ship of the Kraken Society.”
Anwar arched one eyebrow at the mention of the notorious pirate fleet.  He had not known they operated so far south from the Sword Coast.  Perhaps the depredations of the damnable Veritas had driven them to warmer waters.
“I see,” he answered.  “And would you know of the current whereabouts of a man named Vanthus Vanderboren?”
Harliss’ eyes grew wide with rage, and she launched into a poetic litany of profanity that lasted several seconds and was as magnificent as it was scandalous to hear.  When she paused for breath, Anwar quickly interrupted.
“My apologies if I offended you, but we are no friends of his.  In fact, we dismantled a smuggling ring he had infiltrated in Tashluta, and we have now been sent here to find him and bring him to justice.”
Harliss remained silent for a moment longer, her impressive bosom heaving with her agitation.  Then, sighing, she righted the table she had previously used as a barricade, and seated herself upon it.
“All this ye see here,” she began as she waved her hand at the ruined chamber, “and what nightmares ye must have fought through t’get t’me, t’was all Vanthus Vanderboren’s doing!  That vomitous pig came t’me with his hussy’n asked t’see our wares.  Made like he were a black marketer lookin’ fer some fur or scale t’move.  Told him we had a ship coming in what were full of exotica for him ta’shop, so he stayed on a few nights.  Seemed a fine enough chap, but then he dumped a hold full o’whale oil into the cove and lit it up.  I was on th’Slippery Eel at the time, and that’s when I caught the two o’them on board, fixin’ t’rob me!  Can ye imagine that?  A pair o’base curs tryin’ t’rob Captain Harliss Javell?  Anyway, I stuck the fool in the arm with me blade, he yelped, and then as he ducked aside he dropped what he were tryin’ t’rob.  Were a black pearl.  One th’size o’a man’s fist, mind you!  Was going to make some fair coin off that bauble, but as it fell, the thing cracked like an egg.  Some o’Vanthus’ blood from me blade spattered the pearl, and it boiled and flashed with light.  This foul, choking green gas started spewin’ from it, burning through the wood like it were acid.  I grabbed th’thing, ran up topside, then threw it inta’ the water, but as it struck, the thing exploded!  After that…things got a bit weird, mind ye.  A green mist filled my vision, and I felt strange.  Like someone else were in my head.  Someone…someone hungry!  And the rage!  Rage like I never felt ‘afore!  And then, just like that, it were gone.  Vanthus were on deck too by then, but he and I were the only humans left.  That pearl, it did something to me crew.  Ta’Vanthus’ little girly too!  Turned’em bad, like something ye might find in a net and throw back on account the sun got no purpose lookin’ upon it.  Whatever were in that damnable pearl turned over three score men into…man-eating freaks!  Vanthus, he seen what his friend and the rest turned into.  He dove into th’water t’get away.  I did the same, only I swam for shore.  Found me first mate, Drevoraz there.  He’d resisted the change too, as had some others here and there, yet they were nothin’ but the banquet for those things.  We fought our way into th’caves and managed to hole up here with Captain Kigante, the man who keeps these caves for us.  Only, Kigante’s freak food now.  He got jumped by a mob o’them not twenty minutes ago.  Tore him apart like they was sharks!  And one more thing.  I think they got the sick in their maws.  The places they done bit me still burn, and its hard to think straight.  But hey!  You fought yer way in here!  That means there ain’t much left o’them out there, yeah?”

At that moment, as if to punctuate her assertion about the bite of the savages, Marius suddenly cried out and grabbed his leg, tearing the cloth of his trousers away from his skin.  There, the flesh beneath had broken out into a terrible, black rash with short, bony protrusions extruding from it.  The mage then rubbed at his temples, swaying unsteadily for a moment.
“Ye see?”  Harliss said.  “Demons they are!”
“If they carry disease,” Thrisp asked, looking with disgust at Marius’ wound, “are there any other survivors still here that might be able to treat it?  We saw a barricaded room on our way in here, just past the room of hanging silks.”
“Ah, that’d be Leemo,” Harliss nodded.  “He’s our poisoner, and a damned good one too.  Smart.  He might just know a cure, at that, and if ye saw his lab barricaded, might be a chance he’s still alive.”
“What about the prisoners we saw caged beyond the kennel?”  Anwar asked.
“Slaves,” Harliss said.
“I see,” Anwar smiled.  “I was once involved in the slave trade myself when I lived in Waterdeep.”
“Then ye’ll understand how much money I lost when they went rabid,” Harliss spat.  “Just one more thing I owe the Vanderborens for!  I’ll learn that cur what it is t’foul me business!  I know who he is!  Th’Vanderboren name’s no secret t’me.  I know he’s got family’n holdin’s in Tashluta!  I sent me right hand Drevoraz t’deal with yer friend, I did.  Drevoraz is on his merry way to Tashluta as we speak.  He’ll do fer Vanthus’ sister, his mum and pop, and any other family or friends th’bastard has in that dunghill city!  Cross the Kraken Society and we take everything in yer life from ye.  Best not forget that, boyos!”
Anwar’s face went momentarily pale as she spoke, but he kept his voice calm.
“My lady, let me assure you that Vanthus’ family is in no way involved with this.  In fact, we are in the employ of his sister, Lavinia.  It was she that sent us to exact retribution upon her brother for the murder of their parents, and the looting of the family vault.  If you harm her, you will only be helping Vanthus attain his ultimate goal of claiming the Vanderboren name and estate solely for himself.”  
Harliss listened to the bard intently, but shook her head when he finished.  
“Fer some reason, I believe ye, pretty boy, an’ I’m truly sorry fer any trouble me mate might be bringin’ t’the Vanderborens.  I’d advise ye to head back t’Tashluta straight away, but I doubt ye’ll get there in time.  Still, I’ll write a note fer ye t’give t’Drevoraz if ye find’im.  Even then, he won’t believe ye, so ye’ll give’im this.”  She took a demon-shaped earring from her left ear and handed it to Anwar.  “This is a signal ‘tween him and me that the bearer can be trusted.”
“Thank you,” Anwar bowed.  “Now perhaps we should search out this Leemo you mentioned, but first, there is a small matter of the labyrinth…”
________________________________________________________

Harliss took the lead on their trek back through the maze, calling out loudly to attract the attention of the savages.  When they arrived, she moved cat-like to meet them, darting in among them before they had time to react.  In a matter of seconds, she had dispatched all three, and smiled smugly back at the Legionnaires, gifting Anwar with a sly wink.

In short order, they found themselves standing before the barricade, a stout barrier of shelves and small tables.  
“Leemo!”  Harliss called out.  “Ye in there, lad?”  Silence.  With a shrug, the pirate captain began hammering at the wall with the hilt of her sword, until it lay in a heap at her feet.  A fairly even layer of sand covered the floor of the musty-smelling cavern beyond.  Large pottery urns lined the walls of the cave, and within each grew a riot of strange mushrooms, fluted toadstools, phosphorescent molds, greasy-looking fronds of pale lichens, and all manner of strange fungi.  Several large, glass terrariums, their walls beaded with condensation, stood along one wall.  One of them was shattered, the loamy soil within spilled out onto the floor near a long, low table heaped with flasks, jars, bottles and tools.  Protruding from under the table was a pair of small boots.
“Damn shame,” Harliss said, shaking her head.  “Fool went an’had himself an accident after all.”
Cautiously, Marius moved forward, a spell on his lips as he went.  
“There’s magic under there,” he said as he reached for the boots.  At that moment, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and when he looked up, he saw a large, violet toadstool lurch towards him, ropy tendrils protruding from its cap and reaching for him.  Harliss was beside him faster than he could have ever imagined, shoving him behind her, and stabbing her blade into the mushroom.  A burst of flaming missiles streaked past her from Basil’s hand, frying the fungus in an instant.
“That explains that then,” Harliss said, eyeing the mess in distaste.  Marius pulled Leemo’s remains from beneath the earth pile and plucked a pair of scrolls from the dead gnome’s belt.  Unfurling them, he nodded in satisfaction.
“These will temporarily undo the effects of the disease until we can get proper healing in Tashluta.”
After the scrolls had been read, Harliss moved towards the door of the laboratory.
“Sorry lads, but I won’t be goin’ with ye t’Tashluta.  Me face is known there, and I’d just as soon not see the inside of a prison cell.  Ye’re on yer own from here, though ye have me thanks.”  She swatted Anwar on the backside as she passed.  “Maybe we’ll meet again some day.”  With another wink, she was gone.

The company left the sea caves shortly after the pirate captain, and began the long hike back to the Blue Nixie.  Sepoto and Samson were already there, and listened raptly to their tale, cursing their luck on having missed out on such an exciting battle.  At Anwar’s command, the crew weighed anchor and set sail for Tashluta, traveling straight thru the night.
________________________________________________________


The next morning, as they pulled into a slip in Merchant’s District, it was apparent that Wormfall was in full swing.  Even so early in the day, the streets were teeming with celebrating crowds.  There were acrobat troupes, marching bands, and garish costumes in homage to the heroes of Starmantle and Tashluta, along with corresponding effigies of their undead and wormy enemies.  Also present were floats constructed in the image of enormous green worms and shrouded skulls, along with kites of green worms borne on sticks and strings, which danced in the air above the rooftops.  Green lanterns burned above the streets, casting a sickly pale glow upon the cobblestones below, each with a removable shade and a layer of bright gold paper beneath to bathe the city in the warm sunlight of victory at the exact moment the worms fell, and the Ebon Triad stuck down their foul god.

“It’s going to take forever to get through this mess,” Sepoto grumbled.
“Which is why we’re going to split up,” Anwar replied, looking up at the goliath.  “You and Sepoto will take the back alleys and lanes.  Get to the mansion as fast as you can.  If there’s trouble, you two are best equipped to deal with it.  The rest of us will move through the main streets and meet you there as soon as we’re able.  We may be able to find some information on whether or not there have been any disturbances.”
“Remember what happened the last time you sent us away,” Sepoto chided.
“Look around you,” Anwar said, indicating the crowds.  “It’s a festival.  What could happen?”

Sepoto and Samson soon disappeared into the throng, while Anwar, Basil, Thrisp and Marius began negotiating Puppetmaster Lane.  They hadn’t gone very far when Basil felt himself roughly bumped.  Fearing a pickpocket, he clasped his belt pouch and whirled around.  At first he saw no one nearby, but then a tug on his trouser leg caused him to look down.  There stood a rather surly looking, and more-than-a-little inebriated, gnome, rolling up his sleeves.
“Watch where yer goin’, ya bunch of rude, oversized louts!” the gnome shouted.  “You think just because yer big that ya can just run over people?”
“Now, now Jilanth,” said a hulking half-orc, stepping between the gnome and the young wizard, “these folks were just minding their own business.  I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm.”
“Your friend’s right,” Thrisp said, stepping forward and prominently displaying the Spire of Tashluta, “this is all just a misunderstanding.  Please, enjoy this glorious festival.”
Jilanth’s aggression ebbed a bit at the sight of another gnome.  
“I guess so,” he said, and then he slapped Thrisp on the shoulder.  “You’re right!  It’s a celebration!  Just mind where yer walkin’, ya big galoot!” he said to Basil, and then the pair vanished into the crowd.

After several more minutes of pushing and shoving, the company arrived at the intersection of Stirge Street.  They were just crossing the thoroughfare when Anwar and Thrisp both heard shouts of alarm coming from up the hill to their right.  Looking in that direction they saw a particularly large float-wagon barreling out of control down the street, headed straight towards an open-air café.  The float bore a huge humanoid form shrouded in wriggling paper-mache worms and bearing two burning lanterns for eyes.  Worse yet, the four adventurers were directly in its path.  Thinking quickly, Marius raised his hands, the words to a minor incantation on his tongue.  Suddenly, a loud crack sounded as one of the wagon’s front wheels shattered into a dozen pieces, sending the float rolling onto its side where it slid harmlessly into a fruit stand.  All around, the crowd began to applaud and cheer, several of them pointing out the badges the Legionnaires wore, and whispering praises for ‘the city’s heroes.’  Red-faced (and not with embarrassment) Anwar waved politely to the people, and then hurried up the road through the path they’d cleared.

Finally they turned onto Vine Street, the long, curving lane that would lead them directly to Vanderboren Manor.  Halfway up the street, however, they were stalled again, this time by a band of costumed street performers mounted on stilts.  They were led by a talented female acrobat dressed in a form-fitting and sensual-if-macabre black bodysuit decorated with a white skeleton.  The gathered onlookers applauded enthusiastically as she performed an impressive array of flips and leaps, while the stiltwalkers juggled daggers and flasks of oil with burning rags stuffed into them.  Anwar groaned in exasperation at this newest delay, but as he watched the troupe approach, something about them seemed not right.
“Anwar,” Basil said, tugging at his sleeve, “is it just me, or are they coming right towards us?”
That was it, Anwar realized.  The seemingly random movements of the performers were too random, used to cover their steady approach towards the four companions.
“Scatter!” the bard shouted, and then cast a brief spell, rendering himself invisible.  Basil followed suit just as the woman in black darted right at Marius.  As she closed to within a few feet, she hissed from behind her mask, “Lady Kellani sends her regards!”
Suddenly, chaos erupted as the stiltwalkers began hurling their flaming flasks into the crowd.  Panic ensued, as burning civilians ran terrified into the mass of humanity, sending them fleeing in turn.  The Legionnaires found themselves trapped in the middle of the mob, but the stiltwalkers easily waded through, still spinning their now-deadly looking knives.

As the acrobat continued to close the distance between herself and Marius, Thrisp began spellcasting, bombarding the woman with the same colorful burst he’d used on the savage in Kraken’s Cove, blinding her while at the same time instilling invisibility upon himself.  At that moment, however, Marius’ robes erupted in fire as another flask from a nearby stiltwalker struck the ground at his feet.  Moving quickly to his friend, Basil cast a second invisibility spell, and the burning warmage winked out of sight…only to reappear a moment later, as the spell he had already begun exploded.  A burst of fire spread out from where the Seeker stood, enveloping not only all of the stiltwalkers, but also the unseen Basil as well.  Worse still, the flames engulfed a score of fleeing revelers, burning them to ash where they stood.  One of the stiltwalkers also succumbed to the flames, but the others deftly avoided the explosion with cat-like reflexes.  No one ever knew whether Marius meant to cast such a destructive spell in a crowd of innocents, or whether he simply acted on instinct.  The result was the same…mass murder.  Fortunately for the Seeker, he had been invisible at the time, and the people were already panicked by the fiery cocktails they had witnessed the street performers throw.  In the official record of the Watch, the deaths were directly attributed to the would-be assassins.

Basil’s burns were horrendous, and the young mage found himself barely able to stand.  In blinding agony, he fumbled at his belt for a healing elixir, his plight unwitnessed by any of his companions.  Meanwhile, Thrisp reappeared as he hurled a Net of Shadows at three nearby stiltwalkers who were hurling daggers willy-nilly at Marius, heedless of the bystanders.  Just then, the acrobat regained her sight, and lunged at Marius, her hands closing around his throat like a vice.  Still, the mage managed to croak out the words to another spell, sending a second wave of fire over the woman, but fortunately injuring no more citizens in the now-empty space about him.  The acrobat rolled and flailed as she struggled to extinguish herself, and then she leapt to her feet and darted into the mob, disappearing from sight.   

Thrisp and Marius were the only two opponents visible to the five remaining stiltwalkers, and so it was they who were targeted by their deadly thrown knives.  One struck Thrisp in his shoulder before he unleashed a spray of rainbow colors upon two of the assassins, stunning them into unconsciousness.  They fell heavily to the ground from their stilts and lay there, unmoving.  Marius was struck by a pair of daggers, but he retaliated with a ray of scorching heat, immolating the man who had attacked him.  Turning, he hurled an orb of fire at one of the two remaining stiltmen, roasting him as well.  Thrisp felled the last opponent with a second Color Spray, rendering him inert alongside his two companions.  Gradually, the crowd ceased their panicked flight and began to mill around in curiosity, now that the danger had passed.  With calm, sure steps Thrisp walked across the street to stand over the three unconscious assassins.  Slowly and methodically, he loaded his crossbow.  Once more flashing his Spire, he shouted to the gathered onlookers, “This is what happens to those who murder citizens of Tashluta!”  Moving from one to the next, he fired a bolt at point-blank range into each of their heads.  The crowd roared in approval.


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## Neverwinter Knight

This was not an easy update, JollyDoc, but you managed to capture all the little details very, very well! I especially liked the display of Harliss and the way you brought her accross. If only they'd tried to fight her... 

As for the "incident": Since it was 3 mages and a bard against the assassins, I won't hold Marius mass effect against him. 



> Anwar arched one eyebrow at the mention of the notorious pirate fleet. He had not known they operated so far south from the Sword Coast. *Perhaps the depredations of the damnable Veritas had driven them to warmer waters.*



That was rich! Will we see an Anwar vs. Hawk at the end of the module?


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## gfunk

*Sunday Night Update*

1. The entire Legion (finally!) meets up to march into the Vanderboren estate.

2. The Bullywugs go down fast and hard except for the named ones -- those are some tough bitches.  They took down our tank!!!

3. Basil is finally poisoned by Anwar's corruption.  An act of unspeakable depravity pushes him to Lawful Evil.

4. The Legion meets a couple of Jade Ravens and treats them . . . poorly.

5. The final act to free Lavinia from the clutches of Drevoraz and the Cleric of Dagon is an operation of brilliant audacity.  Deceit + a cleverly laid trap + psy-ops that would put the best counter-intelligence agency to shame = a story hour update for the ages.


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## demiurge1138

I've been waiting for the alignment issue to come to a head. And Anwar's all set up to win. A very smooth talker, that fellow. And I'm looking forward to a Legion-style rescue mission. 

Demiurge out.


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## gfunk

Hmmm . . . a lot of views but no comments!?  Well, here's a post that will hopefully stimulate a little conversation.  This is Anwar prior to walking into the Vanderboren estate in the Bullywug Gambit.

*Anwar Rosznar CR 4*
Male half-elf Bard 3/Marshal 1
NE Medium humanoid (half-elf)
*Init +5*; *Senses* low-light vision; Listen +0, Spot +0
*Languages* Abyssal, Common, Draconic, Elven, Undercommon
----------------------------------
*AC* 17, touch 12, flat-footed 16
(+2 Dex, +4 armor, +1 shield)
*hp* 21 (4 HD)
*Fort* +4, *Ref* +6, *Will* +6; +2 racial bonus against enchantment spells and effects, immune to sleep effects
----------------------------------
*Speed* 30 ft. (6 squares)
*Ranged* shortbow +4 (1d6) 
*Space* 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. 
*Base Atk* +2; Grp +1
*Combat Gear* 1 potion of cure light wounds, 3 scrolls of silent image, perfume of shendelvari (5 uses), 1 scroll of invisibility, wand of cure light wounds (14 charges), hat of disguise
*Bard Spells Known* (CL 3rd):
1st (2/day) -- grease, inspirational boost, tasha's hideous laughter
0 (4/day) -- detect magic, light, ghost sound, mage hand, minor disguise
----------------------------------
*Abilities* Str 8, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 17
*SQ* motivate dex aura, bardic music (6/day), fascinate, inspire courage, soothing voice, inspire competence
*Feats* Artist, Deceitful, Song of the Heart, Skill Focus (Diplomacy)
*Flaw* Noncombatant
*Trait* Polite
*Skills* Bluff +10, Concentration +7, Diplomacy +22, Disguise +14, Forgery +11, Gather Info +11, Knowledge (history) +6, Knowledge (nobility) +8, Perform (singing) +12,  Sense Motive +7
*Possessions* combat gear plus shortbow w/ 36 arrows, chain shirt, rapier, torch, flint & steel, backpack, mithral buckler, forgery tool, disguise kit (6 uses)
----------------------------------
*Hook* "Never take something by force when you can convince fools to give it to you.  You can always slit their throats later."

*Minor Aura (Ex)* A minor aura lets allies add Anwar's Charisma bonus to Dexterity checks, Dexterity-based skill checks, and initiative checks.

*Soothing Voice (Su)* Requires at least 3 ranks in Diplomacy.  Calm Emotions on one target within 30’ (Will Neg,DC = your Diplomacy check). Effect lasts as long as you continue using the ability and the target says in range. This is a Language-based ability.

*Inspire Courage (Su)* A bard with 3 or more ranks in a Perform skill can use song or poetics to inspire courage in his allies (including himself), bolstering them against fear and improving their combat abilities. To be affected, an ally must be able to hear the bard sing. The effect lasts for as long as the ally hears the bard sing and for 5 rounds thereafter. An affected ally receives a +1 morale bonus on saving throws against charm and fear effects and a +1 morale bonus on attack and weapon damage rolls. At 8th level, and every six bard levels thereafter, this bonus increases by 1 (+2 at 8th, +3 at 14th, and +4 at 20th). Inspire courage is a mind-affecting ability.

*Inspire Competence (Su)* A bard of 3rd level or higher with 6 or more ranks in a Perform skill can use his music or poetics to help an ally succeed at a task. The ally must be within 30 feet and able to see and hear the bard. The bard must also be able to see the ally.

*Fascinate (Sp)* A bard with 3 or more ranks in a Perform skill can use his music or poetics to cause one or more creatures to become fascinated with him. Each creature to be fascinated must be within 90 feet, able to see and hear the bard, and able to pay attention to him. The bard must also be able to see the creature. The distraction of a nearby combat or other dangers prevents the ability from working. For every three levels a bard attains beyond 1st, he can target one additional creature with a single use of this ability.

To use the ability, a bard makes a Perform check. His check result is the DC for each affected creature’s Will save against the effect. If a creature’s saving throw succeeds, the bard cannot attempt to fascinate that creature again for 24 hours. If its saving throw fails, the creature sits quietly and listens to the song, taking no other actions, for as long as the bard continues to play and concentrate (up to a maximum of 1 round per bard level). While fascinated, a target takes a -4 penalty on skill checks made as reactions, such as Listen and Spot checks. Any potential threat requires the bard to make another Perform check and allows the creature a new saving throw against a DC equal to the new Perform check result.

Any obvious threat, such as someone drawing a weapon, casting a spell, or aiming a ranged weapon at the target, automatically breaks the effect. Fascinate is an enchantment (compulsion), mind-affecting ability.


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## EvolutionKB

Hmm...no inspirational boost?


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## gfunk

Whoops . . . changed it.  I accidentally mixed up the spell Harmony from Magic of Faerun w/ Inspirational Boost from Complete Adventurer, they are quite similar.

EDIT #2: Forgot to add hat of disguise as well.  As you will see in the next update, I think it qualifies as "combat gear."

I'm thinking about going for Master of Masks PrC from Complete Scoundrel.  Suboptimal build, I know.  But then again, I'm already sticking with that theme   Besides MoM oozes coolness.

MoM on Wizards website: http://www.wizards.com/default.asp?x=dnd/ex/20070105a&page=3


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## EvolutionKB

Good to see Anwar finally, hopefully somebody else will follow suit.  I am not a big fan of MoM, I do like exemplar a lot though, even just for a dip.  Do you guys use point buy or roll stats?


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## Schmoe

Yikes!  That's some bard you have there.  How in the world did you manage +22 Diplomacy at 4th level?

I see that R-Hero has successfully indoctrinated the group into the power of a Marshal dip.  Long live Hawk!


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## Tony Vargas

Diplomacy can be startlingly high at low level (starting at 2nd) from synergies with K(nobility), Sense Motive, and Bluff.  At 4th, even core only, you can have 7 ranks, +6 synergies, +4 from CHA, and +5 from feats (Negotiator, Skill focus) for a total of 22.  Anwar only has a +3 CHA, and doesn't have the feats, so some of his bonus must come from other sources...


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## GilaMonster

Marshall 1 gives Skill Focus (Diplomacy) as a bonus feat. Also he gets a racial bonus as a half-elf.


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## gfunk

Tony Vargas said:
			
		

> Diplomacy can be startlingly high at low level (starting at 2nd) from synergies with K(nobility), Sense Motive, and Bluff.  At 4th, even core only, you can have 7 ranks, +6 synergies, +4 from CHA, and +5 from feats (Negotiator, Skill focus) for a total of 22.  Anwar only has a +3 CHA, and doesn't have the feats, so some of his bonus must come from other sources...




Quite right.  7 ranks + 6 synergies + 3 from Cha + 1 from trait + 3 from Skill Focus  + 2 from racial bonus = +22

When we were talking to Harliss I used the +10 bonus from the perfume of shendelvari along w/ +6 "aid another" bonuses from the party to get a +38 on my roll.

Rolled a "6" = 44 Diplomacy check

BTW, we use a 32 point buy for our PC builds


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## Need_A_Life

Great stuff as always!

I simply can't wait for the next installment!


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## Zaruthustran

Soothing Voice sounds totally awesome. Basically Calm Emotions at will, with the DC essentially irresistable (Diplomacy modifier accrues much, much faster than Will save bonus, or normal spell DCs). 

So you basically get to say to anyone*, "Calm down. No, really: _calm down_. I get to decide when we fight."

Where's that ability from?

-z

* any non-undead, non-construct, non-plant, non-other-Type-that-is-immune-to-mind-affecting-effects.


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## gfunk

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Where's that ability from?




It's from Races of the Wild -- the replacement for Countersong for 1st level Half-elf Bard Substitution.  The restrictions are as you say.  In the next update, you will see it used for the first time (in writing) to nice strategic effect.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE BULLYWUG GAMBIT

When Anwar, Thrisp, Basil and Marius finally reached Vanderboren Manor, they found Sepoto and Samson already there, standing outside the front gate.
“What took you so long?” the goliath asked.  “Did you run into any trouble?”
“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Anwar replied curtly.  “Have you noticed any activity?”
“No,” Sepoto said.  “We’ve only been here a few minutes, but it’s been quiet.”
“Well, I guess we’d best go knock and see who answers,” Anwar said, pushing open the unlocked front gates.  As he passed through the portals, his form shimmered, and the Legionnaires found themselves following the semblance of Harliss Javell.   

They made their way across the front courtyard, still spotting no movement from within the house.  The twin front doors were also unlocked, and Anwar pushed them carefully open.  The atrium beyond was made of smooth, white marble stonework.  Two oak stairwells with burnished, brass railings ascended to an open first-floor landing.  Tapestries hung from the upper landing, depicting a beautiful and savage frontier of sprawling jungle landscapes and an eerie shoreline.  Above it all was a beautiful, glass chandelier.  Incongruous among the trappings of nobility and wealth were the four frog-like humanoids standing between the two stairwells.  They had greenish-yellow mottled skin, and long, flicking tongues.  They wore leather jerkins, with bandoliers holding several throwing axes.  Each of them gripped a rough cudgel in their webbed fingers.  Two more of the creatures stood on the upper landing overlooking the atrium.

Before anyone could react, Anwar stepped forward, speaking in a very close approximation of Harliss’ voice:  “I’m here to see me mate, Drevoraz!” he shouted.  The bullywugs, for that is what the frog-men were, a race of swamp-dwelling amphibians known for their hatred of all things human, brandished their clubs, and pulled axes from their sleeves.
“Drevoraz!” Anwar shouted again, this time calling louder.  “Ye’d best come get hold o’yer men, boyo, or there’ll be hell t’pay!”  
Silence again, punctuated only by the slapping feet of the bullywugs on the marble floor, and their guttural croaking.  Anwar shrugged and stepped behind Sepoto.
“They’re all yours,” he said.

The crusader stepped forward, his chain dangling from his hands.  One look at his eyes told the frog-men that this was their enemy.  They would have to get past him if they wanted to taste human blood this day.  Nevertheless, on they came…until the floor beneath them suddenly became slick with grease, sending two of them tumbling to the ground.  
“No thanks necessary,” Basil smiled as Sepoto glared at him.  
“Hmm,” Marius grunted.  “We could’ve used that little trick with the stiltwalkers.”
Sepoto rushed forward as the frog-men tried to regain their feet.  A flashing blow to the head from the goliath’s chain insured that the first one would never rise again.  One of those still on its feet advanced towards the crusader, but he too was cut down before he could move more than a pace.  Whirling his chain above his head, Sepoto brought it down solidly on the other bullywug still struggling in the grease.  Its struggles ceased permanently.  He turned towards the last one, but then he heard the twang of a bowstring and a hiss as a bolt streaked past his head to bury itself in the frog-man’s neck.  It dropped in a heap.
“We don’t need no stinkin’ fighters,” Marius smiled.

The pair of warriors on the upper landing chose that moment to hurl their axes at Sepoto.  The goliath effortlessly batted aside both missiles and moved to the foot of the stairs as the bullywugs hurried down them, one on each side.  They never made it to the ground floor as the crusader’s chain flashed out towards each one, cracking each of their skulls like overripe melons.  
“What do you make of this?”  Thrisp asked as Sepoto began cleaning his weapon.
“I’d say that Drevoraz apparently has friends in low places,” Anwar replied, and then he called out again:  “Drevoraz!  Last chance lad!  I’d hate t’have t’kill all yer hired help!  It’s me, Harliss!  There’s been a change o’plans!”  No answer.  “I’ll guess we’ll have to do this the hard way,” the bard said to the others.  “We’ll go room-to-room.”
___________________________________________________________

From the atrium, they proceeded to make a counter-clockwise circuit of the house, passing first through the library, which was empty, and on to the gallery, which was equally deserted.  Beyond that was the exhibit hall, which displayed many hunting trophies, such as great, saber-toothed cats, a crouching deinonychus, a bloated toad the size of a pony, and a strange, badger-like creature with golden fur and eight legs.  There was also a more mundane assortment of leopards, wolves and bears.  The carpet in the room was terribly stained with mud, especially around a door in the northeast corner.  The source of the tracks was readily apparent, as six more bullywug warriors rose from hiding positions behind various displays and croaked a challenge.

Anwar sighed, and motioned Sepoto and Samson forward.  The bullywugs charged, but the outcome of the brief-but-violent struggle was never in question.  In short order, all six lay dead at the feet of the crusader and the dragon shaman.
“We don’t need no stinkin’ wizards,” Sepoto jeered.  

Anwar knew that the door through which the bullywugs had obviously come led to the basement.  It was likely that was their point of entry, since a small stream which fed an interior courtyard, also ran through the cellar.  He had told Lavinia in the past that it was dangerous to have such a vulnerable point in her home, but she had assured him that she was not worried since there were iron gates which blocked direct entrance into the house.  It would appear that he had been proven right, and hopefully Lavinia would live to regret her error in judgment.  Still, before he led the group down there, he wanted to be sure the washroom and small privy off the trophy hall were not hiding more of the frog-men.  

The washroom and was empty, and so to was the privy at first glance, but Thrisp’s sharp eyes, with his gnomish knack for stonework, picked out a small irregularity in the back wall.  As he ran his hands over the stone, he found an all-but-invisible seam which outlined a hidden door.  It took him no time to discover its hidden latch and swing the portal open.  The walls of the stone-floored room beyond were lined with weapon and armor racks, many of which were empty.  Still remaining on the walls were a silvery bastard sword, a light crossbow, a glowing dagger, a suit of studded leather armor, a light steel shield, and a small wooden coffer.  The coffer lay on its side, the lid open and its contents, several potion vials and a pair of boots, strewn on the floor.  Slumped on the ground nearby was what appeared to be a recently slain dwarf.  

Anwar moved into the room to get a closer look at the dwarf, and that’s when he saw that it was Kaskus Kiel, a druid who was a member of the Jade Ravens.  He leaned in, closer still.
“He’s not dead,” he said after a moment.  
“Not far from it, though, from the looks of this,” Basil said, opening the druid’s robes to reveal a deep burn mark in his chest.  “Magic Missile I’d guess,” the mage observed.  “Probably sprung a trap on the coffer.”
“I knew it!” Thrisp shouted.  “I never trusted that lot from the first time I saw them!  They’ve betrayed Lavinia.  It was probably them that let in Drevoraz and the bullywugs, then when they were trying to rob the armory, tree-hugger there didn’t plan on the trap and bought it.  His cronies must have left him for dead.”
“Now, now,” Anwar said, “let’s not be too hasty.  I have no love for the Ravens myself.  They have a way of…being at the wrong place at the wrong time.  Still, I find it hard to believe they would ever sell out Lavinia.  They’ve been in the service of the Vanderboren’s for years.”
“Yeah, and now that we’re here, maybe they felt like they were being moved out and decided to get a little payback,” Thrisp sneered.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Anwar replied.

The bard’s form shimmered once more, Harliss Javell’s face replaced with that of Lavinia Vanderboren.  Pulling a healing wand from his belt, Anwar tapped it gently on the dwarf’s chest, but not before removing his gear and placing it safely inside the coffer.  With a gasp and a start, Kaskus jerked awake, staring about wildly.
“Relax old friend,” Anwar soothed in Lavinia’s voice, “you’re safe now.  It’s me, and I have the Legion with me.”
Kaskus’ breathing slowed marginally, and tears welled up in his eyes.  “I thought ye were dead, lass!” he cried.  “How did ye escape?”
“The Legion arrived in the nick of time,” Anwar answered.  “What are you doing down here?”
“After I escaped the battle in the courtyard,” Kaskus replied, “I came here, like ye told me, tryin’ t’find weapons to use against them cursed frog-spawn!  I didn’t know about th’trap, and I was already injured from the fight.  Where are the others?”
“They’re safe,” Anwar said.  “They’re upstairs resting in my chambers.  Kaskus, I have to ask you something difficult, and I want you to answer me truthfully.  Did you or any of the other Jade Ravens have anything to do with the bullywugs getting in here?”
Kaskus’ eyes widened again, and his face flushed red.  “No!  Never!  How can ye ask such a thing?”
“Tell us what happened exactly,” Thrisp interrupted.  “Lavinia suffered a pretty stout blow to the head, and her memory of events is a bit fuzzy.”
Kaskus hesitated a moment, but at a nod from Anwar he told his tale.  “The frogs came in through th’basement.  We seen’em in the courtyard from upstairs…them an’ that orc half-breed what was with’em.  We came down t’meet’em, the Ravens and Lavinia that is, and they decided t’put up a fight.  There was too many of’em.  We couldn’t hold’em back!  They…they killed Brunthus, me badger!  One-by-one the Raven’s went down.  That’s when Lavinia told me t’run fer it and get help.  I made it here, and then ye know th’rest.”
When he’d finished his story, Anwar nodded.  “It’s coming back to me bit by bit.  Listen Kaskus.  The Legion has cleared out the upper levels of the house, but we think there may still be a large group hold up in the basement.  We’re going down there next.”
“Then let me come with ye!” the dwarf shouted.  “I’ll be wantin’ blood fer blood!”
“You’re still to weak, my friend,” Anwar said, “and it appears the bullywugs took your gear.  No, I want you to go upstairs and retrieve the Ravens.  There are healing potions in my room.  Once your wounds are tended, go for the Watch.  Tell them what has happened and bring them here.”  Anwar quickly shot a warning glance to the other Legionnaires.  None of them said a word.  Kaskus reluctantly agreed.  Anwar helped him to his feet and the dwarf limped across the trophy hall, heading back towards the atrium.

“What are you doing?”  Thrisp asked, turning to Anwar when Kaskus had left the room.
“What do you think?” the bard smirked.
“I think you’re sending him to his death, that’s what I think!” the gnome shouted.
“Calm yourself and let’s be rational about this,” Anwar said.  “You yourself said you didn’t trust the Ravens.  I’m not sure I do either.  In any case, I think the Ravens have outlived their usefulness.  We serve Lavinia now.  The Ravens haven’t liked you from the start, and that’s only going to get worse with each service you do for Lavinia.  Think about it!  We’ve all received the Spire of Tashluta.  We’re heroes of the city!  We’ve retrieved Lavinia’s money, uncovered a plot to sabotage the city’s shipping industry, and now we are about to save Lavinia and the Ravens.  Do you think they’re going to thank us?  No.  In fact, I believe it will only be a matter of time before they turn for real.  Think of this as a preemptive strike.”  He looked intently from face to face.  He could see that not all of them grasped this line of thought, or if they did, they didn’t agree, but none of them spoke up.  Not one.  Morals were like rusty gears…difficult to budge, but once greased, they turned smoothly.
__________________________________________________________

It really was Anwar’s intent to go to the basement next, for he truly believed this was were the incursion had occurred, and they had to make sure no reinforcements would be coming.  The door in the northeast corner of the exhibit hall lead to a narrow stairwell going down.  Sepoto took the lead.  He had gone no more than a handful of steps when he heard the sounds of deep, slobbery laughter, followed by a woman’s cries of distress and a weird, trilling chitter echo up from below.  Cautiously, gripping his chain tighter, he continued down.

The stairway opened into a large, open cellar.  Water from the central pool in the courtyard above flowed through the chamber, cascading through a grate in the south wall and then out through a second grate to the north.  The second grate was nearly completely rusted through.  Only a few jagged shards of metal remained.  Great swaths of mud covered the floor.  Five bullywugs were gathered on the far side of the stream.  Four of them were armed and armored similarly to the ones they had fought above, but the fifth was larger and wartier.  He was dressed in tough, hide armor and he sat upon an overstuffed chair from the study as if it were a makeshift throne.  A wooden crown fitted with moonstones rested upon his brown and a large greatclub sat at his side.  On the near side of the rivulet stood a woman dressed in nothing but a tattered sheet, into which was threaded three silver spoons and one fork.  She clutched the shroud tightly about her, struggling to keep it away from the strange creature that menaced her.  It was about the size of a small pony, with four insect-like legs and a squat, humped body protected by a thick, lumpy hide.  Its tail was covered in armor plates and ended in a bony projection that looked like a double-ended paddle.  It sported two long antennae on its head, one beneath each eye.  This was the source of the strange chittering.

Sepoto recognized the woman.  She was Liamae Teslikaria, the sorceress of the Jade Ravens.  She recognized him too, and a look of relief flooded her frightened eyes.  Sepoto felt a pang of guilt as he thought of what they had just done to her teammate.  His recriminations were cut short, however, when the large bullywug noticed his presence.  
“Chunkus, feed!” the chieftain burbled.
At that moment, Thrisp darted past the goliath, a spell on his lips as he entered the room.  A now-familiar surge of blinding color flashed from his hands, and the bullywug chief cried out as he clawed at his eyes.  Simultaneously, Thrisp vanished…just as Chunkus scuttled forward.

Sepoto braced himself for the creature’s charge, but was surprised when it stopped just short of him, and gently extended its antennae, brushing them over his armor.  What happened next horrified the goliath.  Every spot that the antennae touched immediately began to rust.  Soon, great, gaping holes appeared, and moments after that, his entire suit of plate mail crumbled from his body.  He stood only in his under-padding.  Before he could even begin to fathom what had happened, the creature reached out to caress his chain.  Sepoto found himself unarmored, and bare-handed.

Marius was next down the stairs.  Shouldering his way past the still-dumbfounded goliath, he spoke a spell and fired a blast of scorching flame from his hand at the rust monster.  The beast squealed and recoiled.  By this time, however, the four bullywug warriors were advancing.  They hurled their handaxes at the vulnerable goliath, but thanks to the bulky form of Chunkus blocking their line of sight, their throws went wide.  Suddenly, Liamae was in motion.  Uttering the words to a spell, she pointed at the nearest frog-man, whose eyes met hers.  
“Follow me,” she commanded, and the bullywug nodded obediently.  She started towards the stairs, but found her way blocked by the still squealing form of Chunkus.  
“I’ve enthralled that one,” she called to the Legionnaires, indicating her victim.  “Let him pass with me.”
At that moment, Basil appeared on the stairs.  From this vantage, he had a clear view of the rust monster, confident he could slay it with one spell.  The only problem was that Liamae had inadvertently placed herself in his line of fire.  The young wizard considered for a moment…and then something inside him snapped.  ‘You must be the help Lavinia’s bringing in to do the chores!’  The words echoed back to him from his first encounter with the Jade Ravens, and he realized that Anwar was right.  These pompous fools needed to be eliminated before they became a problem.  Darkness seeping into his heart, he unleashed his spell.  A tumultuous shower of ice and snow rained down upon the rust beast…and upon Liamae as well.  Chunkus collapsed under the deluge, as did Liamae.  Basil saw a momentary look of shock in her eyes before she was buried.  It brought a small smile to his lips.

Sepoto shook himself out of his shock and reached over his shoulder, drawing the silvered bastard sword he had taken from Lavinia’s armory.  He swung, momentarily misjudging the amount of strength needed to use the lighter weapon.  As a consequence, he decapitated the bullywug Liamae had charmed rather than just cutting its throat.  Then the other bullywugs were all around him, as well as the chief, who had by now recovered his eyesight.  Marius caught the charging leader with a second scorching ray, but unfortunately, the warmage found himself by Sepoto’s side, and equally surrounded.  One of the frog-men caught him across the shoulder with its club and Marius heard something crack.  Then he heard something else:  “Switcheroo,” Basil said, and a moment later Marius was back on the stairwell, staring down at Samson who had taken his place next to the goliath.

Lorpth, for that was the bullywug chief’s name, was enraged.  He had already grown sick of the pinkskins before this new band had arrived, and he was anxious to get back to his home in the swamps.  He had settled for amusing himself with his game between Chunkus and the pinkskin woman, promising her freedom if she could keep at least one piece of silver away from the rust monster.  Now Chunkus was dead, and so was his plaything.  Someone was going to pay.  He hefted his club and rushed the big, gray-skinned giant before him, but just before he swung, he was struck again by the same blinding flash of colors, leaving his eyes dancing with spots.  His swing cleaved only air, and then the stone wall of the cellar as it narrowly missed Sepoto’s head.

Thrisp vanished from sight again as quickly as he had appeared, but then he reappeared a moment later as a beautiful, rainbow spray of light arced from his fingers, engulfing all of the remaining bullywugs.  The three warriors collapsed to the floor, unconscious, while the chief stood reeling, his club slipping from his fingers, drool dripping from his mouth.  Sepoto grinned.  Sheathing the bastard sword, he retrieved the chief’s club, measured its heft for a moment, then swung it full speed at the bullywug’s head.  It impacted with a satisfying thud, but, to the goliath’s disappointment, the skull didn’t shatter.  The chief was jarred out of his stupor, however, and he quickly bent to retrieve one of his minion’s war clubs.  Just then Samson opened his mouth, and something amazing happened.  A spray of hissing acid came out of his throat, as if he truly did have dragon blood.  The scorching liquid struck Lorpth, as well as two of his downed warriors.  As the chieftain recoiled from the pain, Sepoto hit him again.  Pleased with himself, Samson lifted his morningstar and began systematically killing the unconscious frog-men.  Lorpth roared in anger, his vision clearing once more.  Lunging at Sepoto, he caught the goliath a solid blow to his ribs.  The crusader grunted, but quickly countered, ramming the head of the greatclub into Lorpth’s gut.  As the bullywug doubled over, Samson hammered the back of his head with his weapon, and Lorpth fell as if pole-axed…dead.

Anwar stepped into the room, surveying the scene with satisfaction.  His eyes fell upon the frozen form of Liamae.
“Pity,” he said, shaking his head.  He then picked up one of the bullywugs’ clubs and caved in her head.  “She died nobly,” he said, “in the line of duty, serving her mistress.”  He casually tossed the club aside and walked back up the stairs.
__________________________________________________________

Huntress Lorb-Lorb Tub, mate to chief Lorpth, reclined at the table in the private dining hall, enjoying the box of fine cigars she had found in the sideboard.  She and her six hunters had heard the sounds of battle resume in the house, but Lorb-Lorb Tub was not concerned.  The same could not be said for her warriors.  They paced nervously, their eyes on the doors and windows, jumping at each new sound and croaking in agitation.  Lorb-Lorb Tub ignored them.  She found this whole raid to be a ridiculous waste of time, and wondered why Lorpth had let that pinkskin talk them into coming.  She had refused to take part in the initial attack, and she wasn’t about to spoil what little enjoyment she’d found by joining in any new battle.  That was until the door burst open.

The first thing that caught Lorb-Lorb Tub’s eye was the gray-skinned giant standing in the doorway.  He was wearing Lorpth’s crown.  He was carrying Lorpth’s club.  The huntress felt her mind go red, and the shouts of her hunters became muted.  Her vision narrowed, blocking out everything else in the room except the creature that had obviously slain her mate.  Her warriors were already closing to engage the intruders when Lorb-Lorb Tub hurled the dining table aside, drew a pair of axes from her bandolier and leaped towards the goliath.

Sepoto saw the big bullywug coming, but he had more immediate concerns with the six that were already in front of him.  Swinging the chief’s club like a tree trunk, he crushed the chest of the nearest one.  As he pushed forward into the room before the others could surround him, Samson stepped behind him and once again unleashed his corrosive breath.  A second bullywug fell, while two more croaked in agony as their flesh boiled.  Then the big female was on him.  Her wide mouth frothed, and her eyes were shot red with blood.  Snarling and croaking she swung her axes like a thing possessed.  One connected with Sepoto’s right arm, and he felt it go momentarily numb.  Just then the air erupted in snow and ice, another of Basil’s effective storms, and two more of the bullywug warriors fell, but not the female.  She barely seemed to notice.  Samson and Sepoto both turned their full attention to her, hammering at her with their clubs, but she never slowed, not even when the big crusader felt several of her ribs crack beneath one of his mighty blows.  She ignored Samson completely.  Her full attention was on Sepoto, and despite his best efforts, she scored strike after strike against him.  Focusing his mind, he damped down his pain, slowed his bleeding and his heart rate, but he knew he could only keep it up for so long.  Then one of the warriors struck him as well.  His reflexes were slowing.  Another of the hunters struck Samson.  Sepoto’s vision blurred.  Blindly, he lifted the greatclub above him and brought it down with all his strength, right on top of Lorb-Lorb Tub’s head, all but burying her skull in her chest.  She fell with one final croak, twitching once as she hit the floor.  Sepoto fell right behind her, the massive blood loss he’d suffered taking its toll.  Samson found himself alone facing the two remaining bullywugs.  He squared off against them, prepared to defend his flanks, but then one fell, and then the other, the first’s chest pierced by a flaming eldritch bolt, the second’s heart pierced by a quarrel.
“Stinkin’ fighters,” Marius said, stroking the stock of his crossbow.

Anwar felt for Sepoto’s pulse, and found it, weak but still present.  Forcing the goliath’s mouth open, he poured one healing draught after another down his gullet.  After a few moments, Sepoto was standing again, but nursing a splitting headache.
“We’re not going to find Lavinia down here,” Anwar said at length.  “If she’s still alive, she’s upstairs…where we sent Kaskus.  This is just the rear guard.  Drevoraz is up there with her.  It’s time to flush him out.”  
The bard’s form shifted once more, the aspect of Harliss Javell facing the party again.  He led them back to the atrium, and up the near stairs to the second floor landing.  Pausing there, he called out, “Drevoraz!  Look what ye’ve made me do!  Here I’ve had t’go an’ kill all yer cronies!  Say something, lad, so’s I know yer still alive!  Drevoraz?  Can you hear me?”
________________________________________________________

This time Drevoraz did hear.  He had heard the battles on the lower levels and had assumed the city constables had arrived.  He’d continued biding his time, waiting to play his ace-in-the-hole.  The last voice he expected to hear was that of Harliss.  He immediately suspected a trap.
“Cap’n?” he called back.  “That you?”
After a momentary pause, she answered, “Aye!  Who else would it be?  Where are ya, boyo?”
Drevoraz still was not convinced.  He’d been around wizards enough to know they had spells that could disguise their voices.  He glanced over at Bua Gorg, but the priest’s hooded eyes showed no expression.
“I’m on the third floor!” he called back finally.  “In the far bedchamber!  Come on up Cap’n, but come alone!  If there’s any with ye that I don’t know, there’ll be trouble!”
______________________________________________________

Anwar smiled at his companions and gave them a thumbs-up.  
“Thrisp, you’ll come with me,” he said.  “The rest of you wait here.  Wait for my signal.”
“Signal?” Sepoto asked.
“Stand together,” Thrisp instructed, and when they obeyed, he wove a spell.  “Can you hear me?” he said in a voice barely above a whisper, yet each of the company heard him quite clearly.
“It’s a Message spell,” he explained.  “As long as there are no walls or doors between us, I can speak to you through it.  I’ll tell you when to come.”  The gnome then cast a second spell, rendering himself invisible, and followed Anwar up to the third floor.

“I’m alone,” he called when he reached the upper landing.  “There’d best be no more froggies twixt me and you,” he continued.  “Me blades tasted enough o’there blood already.”  
“It’s clear,” he heard Drevoraz answer from behind a pair of doors at the end of the hall…Lavinia’s parent’s room.  He moved down the hall confidently, sensing Thrisp behind him.  Pausing only for a moment outside the doors, he turned the knob and entered.  The room beyond was dark and cloying.  All of the shutters were closed and the air smelled of a rank combination of body odor and swamp mud.  The desk, chairs, and most of the other furniture had all been draped with white canvas dust covers, giving the room the eerie feeling of a tomb.  Lavinia had not yet felt comfortable moving out of her childhood chambers into the master.  Only the large four-poster bed in the northwest corner had been uncovered, its dust drape lying in a heap at the side.

Several things drew Anwar’s eye as his vision adjusted to the gloom.  The first was the body of Kaskus Kiel, which lay only a few feet inside the door, face down in a pool of drying blood.  Next were the four figures tied to chairs, back-to-back, in the center of the room.  Two of them were obviously unconscious.  They were the two remaining members of the Jade Ravens, Tolin Kientai and Zan Oldavin.  The third was Kora Whistlegap, Lavinia’s elderly halfling servant, and she was just as obviously dead, her throat slit.  Last was Lavinia herself.  Her back was to Anwar, but she was alive and conscious.  Standing before her was a muscular half-orc dressed in studded leathers and decorated with numerous tattoos.  He was missing his right eye, an ugly scar grown over the socket.  He held the blade of a scimitar against Lavinia’s throat.  Drevoraz, no doubt, Anwar thought.  There was one final figure in the room, another bullywug, though surely the most grotesque the bard had seen so far.  He had sickly yellow skin, and a sagging throat pouch, disgustingly deflated by an old wound.  As he breathed, the pouch sucked and dribbled noisily.  He sat in a chair in the far corner of the chamber, swaddled in a dripping sheet with only his head showing above it.

Drevoraz’ one good eye narrowed as he looked at Anwar.   The bard sneered as he’d seen Harliss do, mimicking her mannerisms perfectly.
“I’ll be skewered,” Drevoraz said, “it really is you!”  He relaxed the pressure of his blade against Lavinia’s pale flesh, but did not remove it.  “What are ye doin’ here Capn’?  Ye’re wanted in these parts!”
Anwar ignored the question for a moment.  “Ye’ve done a fine job here, lad,” he said.  “Our plan with the bullywugs went just like we’d hoped.  Ye were right t’be cautious and not trust it were me just from the sound of me voice.”  He then reached to his ear and removed the earring that Harliss had given him, tossing it to Drevoraz.  Finally, the half-orc relaxed completely, allowing his scimitar to drop to his side.  
“Then why’d ye go an’ kill’em all, Capn’?” he asked, puzzled.  
“The scalawags didn’t recognize me!”  Anwar said, incredulous.  “Weren’t till I found the chief that th’rest o’em stopped fightin’.  He’s down roundin’ up the survivors now.  I had t’come in person because that devil Vanthus came back after ye left, and I had t’kill’im.”  Anwar saw Lavinia’s back stiffen at his words.  “Now I want th’satisfaction o’doin’ fer what’s left o’his family meself.  I want ye t’gather up what loot you and the frogs can carry, an’ wait for me in the cellar.  Take that one with ye too.”  He pointed at the seated frog-man.  It was the bullywug who answered, however.
“Dagon demands blood,” he croaked.  “Bua Gorg stay and witness for Dagon.”
“Suit yeself,” Anwar shrugged.  “But you get goin’,” she said to Drevoraz.  “When I’m done here, we’d best be on our way before the Watch gets wind o’trouble.”
Drevoraz nodded and sheathed his weapon as he crossed the room.  
“It’s good t’see ye again, Capn’,” he said, pausing to clasp Anwar’s shoulder.  Then he turned and headed for the stairs.
_______________________________________________________

“He’s coming!”  All of the Legionnaires heard Thrisp’s voice in their ears, and they moved quickly to take up positions out of sight of the upper landing.  At that moment, Drevoraz appeared at the top of the stairs, and started down.  He was half-way, when he felt his feet start to slip from under him.  Looking down, he saw that the remaining risers were coated in some kind of greasy film.  Then he saw movement at the base of the stairs, and two figures stepped from the shadows, one a massive brute wielding an equally massive club, the other a dark-haired human slapping a morningstar into the palm of his hand.
“It’s a trap!” he shouted back up the stairs, and then the two were moving towards him.
___________________________________________________

Anwar walked casually across the room, pausing at the fire place and tossing a couple of logs on the rack.  As he bent to start a fire, he looked at Bua Gorg out of the corner of his eye, and began to speak.  His words were calm, soothing…tailored exactly to what the bullywug wanted to hear.
“We’ll be takin’ our time with this lot,” he said.  “That god o’yours, Dagon is it?  He’ll get his blood alright, in spades.  Pity ye already killed the halfling and the dwarf, but at least ye still left me three.  Their death’ll be slow, I promise ye that, just like that bitch’s brother.  For what he done, his family’ll curse’im forever when they follow’im t’the hells.”
Anwar saw that his words were working their magic.  The bullywug was relaxing, hanging on his ever sentence, the thought of blood being spilled causing his sickening breathing to quicken.  It was at that moment that Drevoraz shouted from below.  Bua Gorg’s eyes darted towards the open door.
“Don’t worry about that,” Anwar continued, his voice never losing its soothing edge.  “Drevoraz can deal with it.”  Bua Gorg nodded slowly, and focused once more on the myriad ways that Anwar promised to appease Dagon.

Meanwhile, Thrisp had slipped quietly behind Lavinia, and leaned close to whisper in her ear, “It’s me, Thrisp,” he said.  She gasped, but to her credit, she cut it off quickly.  “Don’t worry,” the gnome reassured her.  “We have everything under control.”  She nodded imperceptibly and whispered back, “Don’t you worry about me.  I’m already loose.”  
Thrisp looked down and saw that it was true.  She had somehow managed to slip free of her bonds and was only shamming.  He nodded in appreciation.
___________________________________________________

Samson and Sepoto both struck the off-balance pirate, but he never lost his footing.  Instead, he pivoted in the grease, sliding a few inches, and slashed back-handed at the goliath.  Then several things happened at once.  Basil loosed a volley of arcane missiles, which struck with unerring precision.  Simultaneously Samson unleashed his breath weapon, and Sepoto focused all his marshal prowess into one massive blow.  Drevoraz went down before he even knew what hit him.  Quickly, the company started up the stairs.
______________________________________________________

Bua Gorg glanced towards the doors again as he heard the sounds of approaching footsteps.
“That must be Drevoraz and your lads returnin’ with th’loot,” Anwar said.
“Bua Gorg heard you tell to wait in cellar,” the bullywug rumbled, suspicion in his voice.  Anwar looked thoughtful, then nodded.  “You know, I think you’re right.  Unfortunate for you.”  The bard then began a sing-song chant.  Bua Gorg felt a strange, uncontrollable feeling come over him.  From deep in his belly it rose, rising up through his gullet and into his throat, finally erupting as gales of hideous, croaking laughter.  He couldn’t control himself.  He fell from his seat to the floor, where he rolled about, cackling maniacally.

Lavinia quickly leaped to her feet and rushed to the side of the strange woman.
“Anwar?” she asked.  “Is that really you?”
“Yes, my love,” the bard answered.  “You’re safe now.”  
At that moment, Sepoto and the others rushed into the room.
“Kill him,” Anwar said, pointing towards the guffawing toad.  “He shouldn’t give you too much trouble.”  
Sepoto and Samson nodded, rushing towards the prone creature, and began striking at him again and again.  Despite their best efforts, however, Bua Gorg managed to climb to his feet, the laughter slowly abating.  With a massive effort, he shoved past them, rushing in a rage towards Anwar and Lavinia.
“Dagon must have blood!” he screamed.
Suddenly, Lavinia drew the rapier from Anwar’s scabbard and stepped to interpose herself between Bua Gorg and her lover.
“Lavinia don’t!” Anwar shouted, just as the bullywug raised a spear to pierce her.  The blow never fell, however as Sepoto rose up behind him and smashed Lorpth’s club down on his spine.


----------



## Hammerhead

These updates just keep getting better and better.

For all his half-elven bardness (with worthless feats), Anwar is an inspiration. It's especially fun to watch him drag the group to evil...I just hope he can drag Lavinia down to his level too.


----------



## GilaMonster

gfunk said:
			
		

> Quite right.  7 ranks + 6 synergies + 3 from Cha + 1 from trait + 3 from Skill Focus  + 2 from racial bonus = +22




What's the trait? House rule?


----------



## Hammerhead

GilaMonster said:
			
		

> What's the trait? House rule?




Unearthed Arcana optional rule.


----------



## monboesen

Cold blooded murdering by the PC's. The next step is the one where they turn upon each other in more preemptive strikes.


Sorry not my kind of thing, time for me to bow out of reading this story.


----------



## monboesen

Cold blooded murdering by the PC's. The next step is the one where they turn upon each other in more preemptive strikes.


This is not reluctant vigilantism or shades of grey morals, but rather full-fledged homocidal power hungry maniacs on the loose.




Sorry not my kind of thing, time for me to bow out of reading this story.


----------



## gfunk

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> For all his half-elven bardness (with worthless feats), Anwar is an inspiration.




Speaking of that, a further review of Master of Masks show it to be ever more sub-optimal than Bard levels.  Not only that, their BAB and (blasphemy!) skill list are very weak.  Disciple of Baalzebub was another possibility but it halt's my spellcasting/song progression.  I may have to stick w/ straight Bard perhaps sprinkled w/ a little Marshal.  Of course, you will not be disappointed with the continued selection of worthless feats. 



> Unearthed Arcana optional rule.



Yep we use the book quite a lot.



			
				monboesen said:
			
		

> Cold blooded murdering by the PC's. The next step is the one where they turn upon each other in more preemptive strikes.
> This is not reluctant vigilantism or shades of grey morals, but rather full-fledged homocidal power hungry maniacs on the loose.
> Sorry not my kind of thing, time for me to bow out of reading this story.




Wow.  Just . . . wow.

I was taken aback at first, but after I went back and re-read the update I can certainly understand your position.  But what can I say other than I am having more fun playing now than ever?  This was the first time we played a full "evil" campaign and I love role-playing in it.  If JollyDoc were writing a novel, I could see how you'd think we might turn on each other, but we are all long-time close friends who are remarkably well-adjusted despite playing homicidial maniacs.  It will never, ever happen. 

Still, I enjoyed your comments in the past and will be sad to lose you.  I hope you find other SHs that are more to your taste.

And JD . . . I don't think I've anticipated an update more than this one.  And boy, I was not disappointed.


----------



## Joachim

monboesen said:
			
		

> Cold blooded murdering by the PC's. The next step is the one where they turn upon each other in more preemptive strikes.  This is not reluctant vigilantism or shades of grey morals, but rather full-fledged homocidal power hungry maniacs on the loose.  Sorry not my kind of thing, time for me to bow out of reading this story.




I can appreciate your opinion, and I am sorry that you feel the way you do and that we will lose your readership.  I will politely disagree with your analysis as you may have the impression that we are running around killing indiscriminately which, apart from Marius' unfortunate event with the stilt-walkers, has most definitely not been the case.

If you have been with us long enough you would seen the Entropy/Amal party infusion...in my opinion that series was considerably much darker than this one.

I understand, however, that this may not be your cup of tea, and we have enjoyed your comments in the past.  However I, like Gfunk, am having fun with the higher level of roleplaying and creative problem solving that we as a group have been employing.


----------



## JollyDoc

monboesen said:
			
		

> Cold blooded murdering by the PC's. The next step is the one where they turn upon each other in more preemptive strikes.
> 
> 
> This is not reluctant vigilantism or shades of grey morals, but rather full-fledged homocidal power hungry maniacs on the loose.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Sorry not my kind of thing, time for me to bow out of reading this story.





I to am sorry to lose a reader, but if you've been a long-term reader of my/Gfunk's story hours, you know that there has always been a darker element somewhere in the thread.  I don't make this stuff up.  I write what happens at our table, and I have always encouraged my players to be creative.  They don't like to be led by the nose through a cook book campaign, and I don't like leading them.  This is what makes any campaign enjoyable and keeps any DM worth his salt on his toes:  deviation from the written plot.  I enjoy weaving these unexpected developments into the bigger story.  Take Gfunk's SH for instance:  the group's failure to defeat Lolth in Demonweb Pits led to Cormyr being overrun by drow and demons.  This led to an entire campaign aimed at reclaiming the kingdom.  So, again, I hate to lose a reader, but I feel that if you stick it out, you'll be in for a great ride.  Don't you love not knowing how something's going to end until the very last minute?


----------



## GilaMonster

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Unearthed Arcana optional rule.




Thanks


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

This outcome is truely inexpected! Anwar, knowing full well in his heart that the party could have ended this without this much bloodshed, played his hand so very well to max out his own benefit. Kudos for DM & players. 

And controvertial as well, I see. I would agree with the majority of the readers that the darker alignments have resulted in many "ahs" and "wows" through the unexpected actions unthinkable of the groups in the previous campaigns. And that's what I come here for: an original story about interesting characters, who (this time) do things an unorthodox way. 

Monboesen, have you never played an evil PC? The majority of PCs that I have played were either paladins or good-aligned priests, but that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy an evil wizard, psion or fighter once in a while. 
And while many of the legions acts are evil, it's not wanton evil, but calculated actions inline with their darker morals. 

There are a lot of penalties for good parties, e.g. what to do with captured guards of a BBEG that are not evil themselves? Kill them? The League from AoW solved these challenges excellently via original roleplaying ideas (the guards at the Champions Games). The Legion does not have these moral issues, which makes things a little bit easier for them. 
Is the dark side stronger? No...no...no. Quicker, easier, more seductive. Some of the Legion's actions will have repercussions! And I am looking forward to when JollyDoc will incorporate this into the story.  Not that I don't think the Legion will not be able to deal with this.


----------



## Supar

awesome update JD i must say watching basil's turn to the darkside could not have been put any better. After all that exalted good in AOW its kinda refreshing to not be good at all cost in AOW i would want to cast a spell with a radius incompassing someone not a foe and JD would literally tell me no, now its just ok or you know they are in the radius. Besides our table tends to never kill without a profit and well she was an arcanist  not to mention i was trying to save sepotos weapon


----------



## gfunk

*Sunday Night Update*

1. The Legion takes out the proverbial laundry.

2. In preparation for the trip to Farshore, the Legion goes on a spending spree w/ their ill-gotten gains.

3. As we leave for the Isle of Dread, we meet Avner . . . and his horse.

4. A dinner on board the Blue Nixie was to be a pleasant affair.  Instead it turns into an exercise in gnomish racism.  Oh and a major faux paus is made with a self-loathing "elf."

5. A water mephit meets a brief and highly violent end but reveals a much more complicated plot aboard the Sea Wyvern.

6. The Legion "investigates" and reaches a "conclusion" with "evidence."  Anwar pushes the party to its limits, trying to make them violate the sixth commandment.  Surprisingly, they resist!  In abject despair, the bard has to settle for breaking the ninth commandment instead.

7. _Detect thoughts_ + _Glibness_ = all your secrets are belong to us

8. After keelhauling a probably innocent man, the Legion uncovers a Slaadi plot.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

All of this sounds like a lot of fun! May the words come quickly to you, JollyDoc! 

BTW, all gnomes are troublemakers, aren't they?


----------



## Joachim

gfunk said:
			
		

> 6. The Legion "investigates" and reaches a "conclusion" with "evidence."  Anwar pushes the party to its limits, trying to make them violate the first commandment.  Surprisingly, they resist!  In abject despair, the bard has to settle for breaking the ninth commandment instead.




LAF, when did Anwar try to get us to practice idolatry and worship false gods, and at what point did he settle for coveting another man's wife?

Also, you have been using keelhauling a little bit innappropriately...here is its definition (it sounds like something Anwar would really like to do to someone):

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keelhauling


----------



## gfunk

Joachim said:
			
		

> LAF, when did Anwar try to get us to practice idolatry and worship false gods, and at what point did he settle for coveting another man's wife?
> 
> Also, you have been using keelhauling a little bit innappropriately...here is its definition (it sounds like something Anwar would really like to do to someone):
> 
> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keelhauling




Funny thing, I actually looked up both of those on Wikipedia before I posted.  The first commandment was an obvious botch on my part . . . probably it was too late at night.  However, the ninth commandment was correct for the Jewish/Protestant versions (according to wikipedia).  Keelhauling I'm also aware of from Wikipedia . . . however it "sounds" a lot cooler than saying we blindfolded a guy and locked him in the hold . . .

BTW, for those who are still scratching their heads, Anwar tried to violate a "thou shall not kill" but had to seettle for "thou shall not bear false witness."


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Joachim said:
			
		

> LAF, when did Anwar try to get us to practice idolatry and worship false gods, and at what point did he settle for coveting another man's wife?





			
				gfunk said:
			
		

> Funny thing, I actually looked up both of those on Wikipedia before I posted.
> ...
> BTW, for those who are still scratching their heads, Anwar tried to violate a "thou shall not kill" but had to seettle for "thou shall not bear false witness."



Damn. I also looked up the commandments for the correct order, found Joachim's source and thought that Anwar was onto something. Would have been interesting, too.


----------



## Joachim

gfunk said:
			
		

> However, the ninth commandment was correct for the Jewish/Protestant versions (according to wikipedia).




Well, I am Catholic so ALL YOUR COMMANDMENTS ARE BELONG TO US!


----------



## Zaruthustran

I'm digging the turn to evil. It's so obvious that the module author intended for you to save the Jade Ravens and attempt a joint rescue; it's fun to just blow up the railroad.  

Even still, the brutality was shocking. Your newfound freedom from moral "issues" will be fun to play, at least until a paladin catches you in a Detect Evil. There's just no way to explain away an Evil alignment*.

-z

* "You see, good Sir Knight, long ago I slew a vile diabolist and with his dying breath he cast a pallor over my soul, cackling madly as he prophesied that a noble heart would strike me down, and with that act, fall from grace. It is my curse to ever tempt pure paladins into delivering misguided justice. I am glad that you did not jump to conclusions, and have heroicly resisted the evil wizard's trick. Now then: can you spare some gold for a Remove Curse?"


----------



## Joachim

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> * "You see, good Sir Knight, long ago I slew a vile diabolist and with his dying breath he cast a pallor over my soul, cackling madly as he prophesied that a noble heart would strike me down, and with that act, fall from grace. It is my curse to ever tempt pure paladins into delivering misguided justice. I am glad that you did not jump to conclusions, and have heroicly resisted the evil wizard's trick. Now then: can you spare some gold for a Remove Curse?"




Don't laugh...between Anwar and Thrisp and our near-equal +45 or so Bluff checks at 6th level that paladin would have no chance!


----------



## JollyDoc

I still like Belkar's solution.  Just carry a lead plate with you and claim its a racial thing.


----------



## Need_A_Life

> I'm digging the turn to evil. It's so obvious that the module author intended for you to save the Jade Ravens and attempt a joint rescue; it's fun to just blow up the railroad.



Well, I would have probably jumped to the conclusion that they were corrupt too... only I'd try to get them to go 'front rank' rather than slaying them outright. The survivors would be accused of being in league with the pirates and left with the choice of being turned over to the Watch (along with my testimony) or go down fighting (proving their guilt).


----------



## Schmoe

Since the issue has been raised, I'll chime in and say that the evil side of the party has me a bit squeamish.  I generally root for the good guys, and in this group there's no one to really root for.  I still find the story hour very interesting, but I have to admit that I'm kind of rooting for the Legion to get their come-uppance.  In fact, it would be pretty cool if the Legion got assimilated and all "savagified" and Demogorgon had his way.


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Can we not save the world for our on personal gain? Or do we have to do it because it is the "right" thing to do? I do not see what is wrong here so a few extra people die and we do not have to worry with all the trouble of them being in our way.

We can be Heroes and be evil. Look at some of the heroes from movies that are darker but still save the day.Just because a paladin Detects evil does not mean he just attacks the person has to be doing something evil to get attacked.  In other words Innocent until proven Guilty unless you get in the way of the Legion.


----------



## Schmoe

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> Can we not save the world for our on personal gain?




Sure, but that doesn't mean I have to root for you.  Who do I want ruling the world, Hannibal Lector, or Darth Vader?  Hmm, turns out I don't really want either one winning the battle.



> We can be Heroes and be evil.




On this we disagree.  An evil person is just trying to get ahead.  If that means he needs to save the world in order to have it for himself, so be it.  That doesn't make him a hero.  If Demogorgon had to first destroy Kyuss before having the Forgotten Realms to himself, and of course some innocents would probably die while Kyuss was being hunted down, would you call Demogorgon a Hero?  I wouldn't.



> Look at some of the heroes from movies that are darker but still save the day.




Again, depending on how "dark" the character is, I probably wouldn't call that person a hero.  

There's also a big difference between characters who have a dark history, and those who still embrace villainy.  It is much more common for a movie or story to feature the former rather than the latter.  The reason being, an audience can root for a character who can redeem his past, willingly or not, but they are unlikely to root for a character who refuses to be redeemed.



> Just because a paladin Detects evil does not mean he just attacks the person has to be doing something evil to get attacked.  In other words Innocent until proven Guilty unless you get in the way of the Legion.




And here we agree.  There's that whole "laws of society" thing at work, which is important.

The bottom line is this:

I'm sure that you guys are having a blast playing this game.  JollyDoc runs a tight game from what I can tell, and I imagine it's very interesting role-playing characters with a different perspective than yourself.  The story hour is also still fun to read, because of the amazing events that transpire.  But the PCs in the campaign, right now, are thoroughly evil and wicked.  The story does not have any heroes, and hence I don't find it as enjoyable or engaging.  

No matter how you may try, you cannot convince me that Anwar, Thrisp, and Basil are heroes - they are simply villains with a different agenda.


[Edit] I just re-read what I posted, and I want to make sure that you don't think I'm criticizing your game.  I only wanted to explain my perspective.  Game on!


----------



## Ed Gentry

JD and crew:

Keep up the good work. These are incredible characters. I would truly love to play in a game like this. It feels very real and I credit that to excellent RP'ing. Specifically, to the players of Anwar and Thrisp I would like to say respectively:

"Amazing! Anwar is a writer's dream for an engaging, suave, creepy but still likable character"
"Well done! Watching Thrisp's internal conflicts is what good character development is all about."

So, please guys, don't give in to nay-sayers. Play the game you want to play. Good and evil are concepts. Concepts are gray by definition, not black and white. There is fluidity, flexibility and motion. You guys are playing the kind of antagonists that writers hope to come up with. You're not bad people, you're not harming anyone. You're doing a great job of portraying these characters. Well done. I can't wait to read more.


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## Need_A_Life

Having played in my part of evil/morally unconcerned groups, I wholeheartedly support this as a welcome change from reading the Shackled City Adventure Path you guys went through... though I'll soon be done with that [reached post #752].

I must say that I really like Anwar... though I must say he's actually forgetting to exploit people as much as he could've. He could've easily become Lord Anwar Vanderboren, instead of merely being the plaything of some self-important noblewoman.

Also, I find him to revert to "kill it" far too quickly. I fail to see the reasoning between killing off willing arrow-fodder, not to mention all the people he could've simply told to count their blessings that he didn't just report them to the Watch but instead came with an offer they just _can't_ refuse.


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## gfunk

Need_A_Life said:
			
		

> He could've easily become Lord Anwar Vanderboren, instead of merely being the plaything of some self-important noblewoman.




Well . . . ummmm . . . about that . . .

You'll just have to wait until the next update! 

Let me just say (and I agree w/ Schmoe), I believe that Anwar is irrevocably evil.  Even worse than individuals like heads of demonic cults who believe in "evil" as a tangible concept, Anwar is totally apathetic.  Sure he is greedy, but he is far worse than that.  As Need_A_Life rightly pointed out, if Anwar was simply for profit above all else he would not kill/ruin people as indiscriminately as he does.  Generally, he reserves his blackmail for people from whom he can truly gain something such as material wealth.

However, as others have stated, Anwar is in a class of despicable all by himself.  On the morality scale, I believe the Legion goes something like this (in decreasing magnitudes of Evil):

Anwar >> Basil > Thrisp > Sepoto = Marius >> Samson

Anwar actively pursues evil agendas and is pure scum.
Basil has just recently turned evil but I think this is largely due to apathy for the plights of others.
Thrisp will cut moral corners on occasion but he has stood up to some of Anwar's more outrageous demands.
Both Sepoto and Marius are honrable in their own way.  Sepoto is a kind of a "me, me, me!" guy whereas Marius feels that the greater good sometimes outweighs people's personal rights.
Samson is as close to good as the Legion will get.  Though neutral he has washed his hands of many of the Legion's questionable activities.

Therefore, I believe that readers should judge each character on his own moral judgements.  Though Anwar often "gets his way," due to inaction on the parts of others, I think this next update will show you that even Thrisp, Sepoto, Marius, Basil and Samson have their limits.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Ahem, gfunk, I'm afraid we're going to need proof. Like, for instance, an update. Isn't it weekend again, soon?


----------



## JollyDoc

Say what you will, our previous two story hours have NEVER generated this much controversy  

Bear in mind, the story of the Legion is only beginning.  Heck, we've only just finished the second installment of the AP!  I'm as anxious as you guys to see how this will all play out over time.  Who know who will ultimately be the villain or the hero?  I agree with Gfunk's assessment of the party's current moral bent.  Samson is turning out to be the voice of reason, as you will see in the next installment.  I can't add anything to G's painting of Anwar's character.  In time, this fellow might give Entropy a run for her money in the evilgasm category.  I see Basil as a downtrodden soul who has discovered power and is using it to get back at those who he perceives have oppressed him in the past.  Thrisp is battling for his soul, but unlike Havok, he's losing the battle.  Sepoto walks a fine line.  He can't become truly evil and still follow the path of the crusader that he has chosen, but he is rapidly becoming the kind of 'law' that equals judge, jury and executioner.  Marius lives up to his role of Seeker in every way, in that the ends justify the means.  Again, who knows how the adventures that await our 'heroes' will transform them in the months to come?

As always...stay tuned!  Oh, and thanks again to all our readers, pro and con!  I appreciate everyone's input and critique.  That's what makes this whole process worthwhile.


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## Supar

JD hit basil on the head. He wants everything he lost, takin and was witheld from him. That includes family and friends which he puts the legion and lavinia. Basil will not kill someone if information is needed to protect his objectives or further but i dont think basil would be above killing a enemy wizard if he knew the wiz had good magic items on him. Just think if he had spent time with Hawk and the league rather then Anwar and the legion.

And as far as no one to root for. Didnt you read War of the spider queen? I found myself rooting for the wizard pharuan. A mage of Limitless talent that has to live with a station that doesnt reflect his skill. He was evil as well as everyone else in the book.


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## Joachim

Wow...this whole evil party discussion has generated more response than anything here for a while.

As far as I am concerned, I don't really care who 'roots' for who.  I am having fun playing a character that is backsliding into Hell.  Unlike Basil, who has become evil as a knee-jerk reaction, Thrisp is very cognizant of what he is doing and accepting of the consequences of his actions.  While this hasn't been visible in the Story Hour, most of Thrisp's acts that could be conceived as 'Good' are actually done more to preserve his cover and further his long-term selfish goals.  Thrisp is not the Machiavellian nihilist that Anwar has become, but is no less dangerous because he has been presented with good and bad, and is actually _choosing_ Evil, and the seductive power that comes with it.

As Lord Helmet said, "Evil will always triumph over Good, because Good is dumb."


----------



## Hammerhead

I just have to say that I love this new evil party. As readers, we get to see a lot more cleverness, deception, and trickery instead of the League's brute force approach to solving problems. And their corner-cutting and greedy approaches lead to some great reads.


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## Zaruthustran

You guys have inspired me to launch my own Savage Tide campaign. I'm DM, and am actively encouraging my players to roll a Dragon Shaman. That "Everyone gets Fast Healing 1!" ability is too cool. Resting is lame.

Going with that theme, I've introduced a mechanic that lets a mage who's run out of spells still stay in the fight (instead of just wasting oxygen). Casters can burn 1d10 hp/spell level to power a spell. Doing so forces a concentration check, just like normal cases where a caster is hurt while casting. But the damage is taken *after* the spell is resolved... so you can do a kind of arcane "death lunge".

Also using Piratecat's action point rules. This is going to be so fun.

-z


----------



## EvolutionKB

> Going with that theme, I've introduced a mechanic that lets a mage who's run out of spells still stay in the fight (instead of just wasting oxygen). Casters can burn 1d10 hp/spell level to power a spell. Doing so forces a concentration check, just like normal cases where a caster is hurt while casting. But the damage is taken *after* the spell is resolved... so you can do a kind of arcane "death lunge




Check out the reserve feats from complete mage, they do something similar(without the hp lost) as long as you keep that last spell in reserve.

By the way guys, I'll be discontinuing my readership as well, because I might be joining a Savage Tide game and don't want to ruin any more surprises.


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## Neverwinter Knight

Joachim said:
			
		

> As Lord Helmet said, "Evil will always triumph over Good, because Good is dumb."



I almost forgot about that one!   



			
				Hammerhead said:
			
		

> I just have to say that I love this new evil party. As readers, we get to see a lot more cleverness, deception, and trickery instead of the League's brute force approach to solving problems. And their corner-cutting and greedy approaches lead to some great reads.



I couldn't agree more. 

JollyDoc, this whole new approach must be a great challenge for you. The way it comes across from the comments here, it has actually increased the roleplaying aspects of the group.


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> JollyDoc, this whole new approach must be a great challenge for you. The way it comes across from the comments here, it has actually increased the roleplaying aspects of the group.





It is a bit challenging, but I enjoy writing it more than the standard battle scenes.  I like it at the table too.  So far, STAP seems to have a nice mix of role-playing and action.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE SEA WYVERN’S WAKE

Leaving Lavinia and Samson behind to tend the wounds of the two surviving Jade Ravens, Anwar and the others set out to scour the manor and make sure no living bullywugs remained.  Room after room was unoccupied, but many bore the tell-tale signs of battle, including Lavinia’s own bedchamber, in which they found a dead frog-man, apparently killed by a rapier thrust.  It seemed Anwar had taught Lavinia more than a few tricks.  During this canvas, Anwar used his headgear to assume the form of Bua Gorg.  When they came to the laundry room, therefore, it was a surprised group of bullywug warriors, sorting through piles of silk sheets, who turned to see their spiritual advisor leading a band of pink (and one grey) skins.  
“Drop your weapons!” Anwar called out in bubbly Common, imitating Bua Gorg’s wheeze perfectly.  “Pinkskins friends.  Here to help.”
For a moment, it seemed as if the hunters would comply, but then the largest among them narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his warty brow, peering closely at the Legion.  Suddenly, he shouted to his companions, “Master being held prisoner!  Free master!”  
Thinking quickly, Anwar darted into the room to a position behind the charging bullywugs.
“Yes, kill infidels!  Dagon demands blood!” he encouraged them, knowing the outcome was already a foregone conclusion.
In short order, Thrisp had three of the frog-men down with a well-timed Color Spray, while Sepoto, who had managed to procure a new spiked chain from Lavinia’s training room, dispatched the other two.  The three who were unconscious were then summarily executed by the crusader, much to Anwar’s approval.  

When they were sure the house was secure, the company returned to the master bedroom to find Tolin and Zan conscious again, though still battered, and visibly shaken by the sight of their dead companion, Kaskus.  
“Allow me to be the first to offer my most sincere condolences,” Anwar said, gripping Tolin’s shoulder.  “Your friends were heroes in the truest sense of the word.  I would be honored if you would allow me to speak a few words when they are laid to rest.”
The ranger glanced at him for a moment, but then silently nodded his head.
“They will be buried with all honors on Ancestor Island, in the Vanderboren family plot,” Lavinia said.  All business once again, Anwar then proceeded to explain to Lavinia all that had transpired on their trip to Kraken’s Cove and back, including their attempted assassination by House Kellani.  Lavinia’s face showed a wide range of emotions, from relief, to sadness, to anger.
“I must admit,” she said, “when I heard you tell Drevoraz that Vanthus was dead, I was grieved.  Though I know he deserves death for his crimes, he is still my brother.  Perhaps this latest failure of his schemes will be a lesson to him, and he will disappear from this region forever.”
“We can only pray,” Anwar said.
“As for the Kellanis,” Lavinia continued, “I will see that formal charges are brought against them by the Dawn Council.  They’ll be stripped of their title and lands for this!  And as for the rest of you,” she beamed at Anwar, and then at each of the Legionnaires in turn, “I owe you all a debt I can never repay.  Still, I will begin by doubling each of your monthly stipends, and you will each receive a generous incentive for all that you have done.”
____________________________________________________

Time passed.  Kaskus Kiel, Liamae Teslikaria and Kora Whistlegap were interred, with Anwar delivering a very moving eulogy.  Life returned to a semblance of normal around Vanderboren manor, and indeed during the following weeks, the house took on a busy, vibrant feel.  Lavinia retained workers to repair the damage done by the bullywug attack, and also hired a new staff of servants to tend to the manor’s needs.  She seemed to need the distractions to take her mind off of the terrible events of the preceding months.

Samson made a trip to the Chult Trading Concern, and made amends to Vico Bevenin for the loss of two rowboats.  The dragon shaman paid his former employer twice what the boats were worth, and all was forgiven.

Thrisp made contact with Lucius once more, updating him on his latest discoveries.  The shadowy go-between was particularly interested in the details of the breaking of the shadow pearl, and asked that the beguiler give him the fragments.  Thrisp did so without hesitation, and Lucius informed him that their mutual benefactors would be most pleased.

Marius recovered from his savage affliction, courtesy of Lavinia’s personal physician, and his superiors at the Seeker’s lodge were very impressed with the nautical maps that were recovered from the smuggler’s cave in Kraken’s Cove.  They asked that he inform them of his next venture in case they had additional work for him.

Sepoto spent much of his time at the Savras’ temple outside of the city, renewing his vows and praying for direction on the path he’d chosen.  Answers were short in supply.

 For a period of two weeks, the Shadowshore Watch found themselves dealing with a series of strange murders.  All of the victims bore odd burns to their chests, but were otherwise untouched.  The cases were never solved, nor were they pursued with great enthusiasm, the victims all being persons of less-than-reputable character…street magicians and such.

Anwar spent his days in quiet contemplation, pondering a particularly touchy dilemma.  In time, he reached a resolution, and as Lavinia rose from their bed one morning, he was already dressed, waiting on her.
“What woke you so early?” she asked sleepily.  “And why didn’t you wake me?”  She winked with a mischievous smile.  Anwar smiled as well and came to kneel beside her.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said at length, “and I have come to realize that there has been something missing in my life.  A void, if you will.  The reason for this escaped me until just recently.  It’s you, Lavinia.  Though we are together, our paths are not fully joined, nor are our hearts.  I am asking for your hand.  Will you marry me?”
Lavinia’s eyes went wide in shock, and for a moment words escaped her.  
“I…I…,” she stammered.  “I don’t know what to say.  Of course I want you for my husband, but you see…” she paused.  “Everything in my life has been happening so fast.  I had only just returned here when my parents were taken from me, and then Vanthus.  Then all of the revelations and tribulations since.  It’s all been so overwhelming.  I need time to figure out which direction my life is headed and what my destiny is.  In fact, I had planned on discussing this with you today…and the Legion as well.  I think I’ve come to a decision…one that I want to share with you.  If all goes as I hope, then I will accept your proposal…just not now.”
Anwar smiled faintly, nodded and patted her hand reassuringly, though inside he seethed.  Forcing calm and interest into his voice, he asked, “What is this decision you have reached?”
“Call the others together this afternoon,” Lavinia said excitedly.  “I want to share it with everyone at the same time.”
__________________________________________________________

That afternoon, the Legion members found Lavinia in the main dining room, pawing over a number of nautical maps, sea charts, and a large journal.  As they entered, she greeted them warmly and invited them to be seated.
“Do you recall this journal we recovered from my family vault?” she asked, holding up the book.  “It turns out that it was my mother’s.  My parents, may the gods rest their souls, were brave…foolish and rash some would say, but I have never been one to criticize an adventurous spirit.  On the contrary,” she cast a wry smile upon her audience, “I admire it.  In any event, it would seem that about four years ago, my mother and father undertook a risky endeavor.  They sailed the Blue Nixie, along with a ship full of colonists, down south and across the Trackless Sea to a place they referred to as the Isle of Dread.  You may have heard of this place.  If you haven’t, it seems apparent from reading my mother’s journal that it is aptly named.  A jungle-covered hell infested with immense reptilian monsters, feral savages, and peril at every turn.  Yet the southern peninsula remains relatively sheltered from the menaces on the isle mainland, and it was here, among the villages of several friendly locals, that my parents founded the colony of Farshore.  The Isle of Dread represents an untapped trove of resources…exotic lumber, spices, animals, foods and even minerals like silver and gold.  Once Farshore was up and running, the influx of trade would have guaranteed my family a relatively uncontested flow of wealth.  Yet before my parents were able to return to Farshore with supplies and more colonists, my brother made his move and left me in the state you found me in a few short weeks ago.  Since we recovered this journal, I have not been idle.  If Farshore fails, then my parents’ last legacy fails.  I intend to carry on their work, and have planned a journey south to the Isle of Dread to resupply and join the colonists at Farshore for the rest of the year.  I have the Blue Nixie readying in the harbor to take fresh supplies to the colony, but I find myself a vessel short.”  Lavinia’s face broke into a glowing grin.  “You wouldn’t know of anyone with stout hearts who might happen to be interested in helping me mount this expedition, would you?  I fear the journey itself might grow dangerous at times, and there’s no way of knowing what state or condition Farshore is currently in, but I suspect that danger is a vice you have.”

As her proposal unfolded, Anwar’s mind was in constant motion.  A colony.  No, an entire island!  Kingdoms had been built from less!  Ah, how fortune smiled upon the wise.  A genuine grin creased his face.  “I think I speak for all of us here when I say that we are your servants, and are at your disposal.”
Lavinia looked to each of them, and saw enthusiasm in their faces (though what each harbored in their hearts, she would never know).
“Excellent!” she cried, clapping her hands together.  “But there is still the question of the second ship…”
“What about the Sea Wyvern?” Samson spoke up, turning to Anwar.  “You said it appeared seaworthy.”
“It was…assuming it’s still where we left it,” the bard answered.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Lavinia said.  “Tashlutan law allows for salvage rights of abandoned vessels.  I will provide you with a crew, and we can rent a pinnacle from the Chult Trading Concern.  You can leave in the morning!”
_____________________________________________________

They boarded the pinnacle at dawn the next day, the Captain greeting them as they walked up the gangplank.  She was a slight but powerful woman with fine blonde hair tied neatly back from her forehead, and a thin scar gracing her right cheek.
“I’m Amella Venkalie,” she said by way of introduction.  “I’ll be Cap’n o’this vessel.  As long as we’re clear on who’s in charge, we’ll have no problems.”  At that point, her gaze fell upon Thrisp, and her face grew grim, her cheeks flushing.  She turned abruptly away, muttering under her breath before barking orders at the crew to get underway.
“I think she likes you,” Anwar laughed at the gnome, nudging him with his elbow.  Thrisp didn’t respond, staring curiously after the Captain.

During the short trip back to Kraken’s Cove, Thrisp tried on several occasions to engage Amella, only to be answered with short, one word responses, or not at all.  Anwar observed all of this with growing amusement, until he finally decided that he simply had to know what it was all about.
“Your pardon Captain,” he said as he approached her at the wheel, doffing his beret.  “I couldn’t help but notice your displeasure with one of my men.  I hope he hasn’t offended you in some way.”
“Not him personally,” she said bitterly.  “Just his kind in general.”
“I see,” Anwar nodded.  “Gnomes can be a bit shifty and unreliable.  Why just a few short weeks ago, on our first trip to the cove, another one ran out on his when we needed him most.  A priest no less!”
Amella smirked and shook her head.  “Typical,” she spat.  “Had me a good man once.  Cap’n Heldram Flashwell were his name.  Two of us ran a right profitable operation for awhile, ‘till we put our trust in a bunch o’gnomes.  They two-timed us, stole our cargo, and their leader, a treacherous cur name o’Shorstone Badgewell, he killed my man in cold blood.  Can’t trust none o’em!”  
Anwar listened sympathetically, and patted her shoulder as he turned to leave.  He joined Thrisp below decks a short time later and filled him in on what he had learned.
“Best to steer clear of her,” the bard finished.
“Oh I don’t know about that,” Thrisp said airily.  “You’re not the only one around here who can be charming.”

The remainder of the journey was peaceful and uneventful, and when they reached Kraken’s Cove, Amella guiding the pinnacle expertly through the treacherous reefs, they found the Sea Wyvern exactly as they’d left her.  Amella sent a skeleton crew aboard and in short order both ships were on their way back to Tashluta.
_________________________________________________________

Within a few short days, the Sea Wyvern had been fully stocked with food and supplies for Farshore, and was outfitted with a light catapult on the foc’s’le.  Amella Venkalie was to captain the vessel, while Basil, with his knowledge of the Chult coastline, volunteered for the position of navigator.  Lavinia estimated that the voyage would cover just over 3,000 miles.  Including stops to resupply along the way, and assuming fair weather, the entire trip would take not much more than three months.  

Lavinia announced that she would be on board the Blue Nixie, along with the two remaining members of the Jade Ravens and several colonists.  She requested that Anwar and the Legion help crew the Sea Wyvern and oversee the passengers that would be traveling with them.  The first of these was a balding priest of Torm named Father Feres.  Anwar found amusement by immediately ingratiating himself with the man, asking him for insight on various questions of morality.  Next was a shifty-looking, hunch-shouldered elf with pale skin, a nasal voice and unsettling eyes.  He was introduced only as Skald, and he was reputed to have some skill in tracking and forestry.  Thrisp found himself drawn to a bent old gnome by the name of Urol Forol, a naturalist with a constant squint and a strong, earthy odor about him.  A large crow rode perched on one shoulder.  Amella scowled deeply when she saw the pair chatting amiably together.  A red-haired young tomboy of a girl, dressed in flamboyant scarves and silks, introduced herself as Lirith Veldirose.  She attached herself immediately to Anwar, commenting on his fashion sense and speculating that he must be from a wealthy family.  Her attentions drew a withering glare from Lavinia.  A young cabin boy by the name of Tavey Nesk made a nuisance of himself by tagging along behind Sepoto, constantly chattering on about the goliath’s weapons and armor, and asking what sorts of battles and monsters the crusader had seen.  Last to arrive, and at the last minute before the ships cast off, was a haughty looking gentleman dressed in noble garb, riding a striking white stallion.  He was attended by two bowing and scrimping servants, and he gazed down upon those gathered as if they were beneath his notice.

“You there!” he called out to Sepoto.  “Tell my men where Thunderstrike will be stabled during the voyage.” 
Sepoto’s eyes grew wide, and his face flushed.  “How about back where you came from,” the goliath growled with barely controlled fury, “because he’s sure not coming with us!”
Across the docks, Lavinia pulled Anwar aside.  “Can you do something?” she implored.  “When I was planning this expedition, I found myself without adequate funds to completely finance it.  I approached several of the other noble families for sponsorship, but only the Meravanchi’s took me up on my offer.  Zebula Meravanchi had a price for his aid, however.  His youngest son, Avner, was to be allowed to accompany us.”
“I’ve heard of him,” Anwar said.  “He has a reputation as a womanizer, slanderer, and general cad.  I think I can speak his language.”  He winked at Lavinia and crossed quickly to the young noble.
“I apologize for my man’s outburst,” he said quickly, extending his hand, but Avner just stared at it as if it were something dirty.  “Yes, well,” Anwar continued, “I understand your desire to bring such a fine animal along for this journey, but I would be concerned for his well being.  You see, this is likely to be an arduous trek, and we may be forced to live hand-to-mouth if the need arrives.  Some of the…less civilized members of our crew might not make much distinction between cow’s meat and horse meat if push comes to shove.”
Avner rolled his eyes.  “My servants can care for Thunderstrike.”
Anwar leaned forward conspiratorially.  “Well, there is one other thing.  That large fellow you were arguing with?  He’s from a tribe of savages deep within the jungles…a tribe that considers horse meat a delicacy.”
At this Avner grew pale, his eyes darting back towards Sepoto.  He considered for a moment before answering.  “Fine!” he said in disgust.  “My men will need time to return Thunderstrike to my home, but I demand first-class accommodations for the voyage.  I’ll not sleep with the riff-raff.”
“Agreed,” Anwar said, and showed the nobleman towards the ship.  Amella had observed the entire exchange with growing disgust, and she didn’t bother to stay and greet the young Meravanchi as he boarded.  Urol Forol followed Avner’s servants down the street, rambling on about Thunderstrike’s pedigree and bloodline.  Meanwhile, Lirith seemed to have forgotten Anwar completely now that a blooded noble was on the scene.  She hurried after Avner, graciously offering to share her own quarters if he could find no other suitable.  

Once all the passengers were boarded, the two ships weighed anchors and set out from Tashluta’s harbor.  Within the hour they had left behind the familiar skyline and set sail west towards the unknown.
________________________________________________________

On the second day out from Tashluta, a messenger arrived via rowboat from the Blue Nixie.  He carried an invitation from Lavinia for the members of the Legion and the crew and passengers of the Sea Wyvern to join her for dinner that evening in order to celebrate the start of their expedition.  As sunset arrived, the two ships drew close and a line was thrown between them.  A pulley system was then attached and a net seat secured to it.  One-by-one the visitors crossed to their sister ship.  

Lavinia looked radiant as she greeted her guests, dressed in silk and sparkling jewels.  Anwar smiled as he bent low and kissed her hand.  She led them all into the Nixie’s spacious galley, where a fine spread had been laid out, including grouse, peacock and Elven wine imported from Silvery Moon.  As the meal began, the participants chatted amiably.
“So tell me again why it is that you are traveling to Farshore?” Thrisp asked Father Feres.  The priest smiled.  “I am a missionary,” he replied.  “It is my intention to first meet with my brethren at Fort Blackwell, and then carry the Word of Torm to the savages of the island.  They will see that Torm’s light can reach even the most remote locations.”

“I must apologize again for the actions of my crew,” Anwar said to Avner, schmoozing the nobleman with charm to spare.  Avner sniffed.  “Yes, well, there’s no accounting for taste.  What can you expect when you ally yourself with such as they?  I mean, really!  A street performer,” he pointed at Basil, “An errand boy for that smuggler Vico Bevenin,” he gestured with his cup towards Samson, “A godless savage,” to Sepoto, “a grave robber,” Marius, “oh yes…and a gnome.  Enough said.”
Sepoto started to speak, but a meaningful glance from Anwar towards Lavinia silenced the goliath’s tongue and he settled for glaring at the Meravanchi for the remainder of the meal.  Anwar turned his attention from the boorish noble and spoke to Skald in his native Elven.  “Hello my brother.  Tell me what motivates you to take on this arduous pilgrimage?”  Skald looked at him blankly before replying in Common, “I don’t speak Elvish.”  Anwar was too taken aback for a moment to reply.  Clearing his throat, he excused himself and continued to mingle.

After dinner, the Sea Wyvern’s compliment prepared to return to their ship.  Farewells were exchanged, as well as some good-natured ribbing between the two crews.  Marius was first to cross back to the Wyvern via the chair lift, though Basil had already beaten him back via a bit of showboating and a Fly spell.  The warmage was halfway across when suddenly there was a sharp snapping sound, and the rope bridge parted in the middle, sending Marius plummeting into the surf fifteen feet below.  He vanished beneath the waves and did not resurface.

At that moment, both Basil and Thrisp heard the distinct chanting of spellcasting.  Basil, being closer, knew that it was coming from the ajar door leading to the hold of the Sea Wyvern.  The spell being cast was actually only a minor cantrip, one used for opening doors from a distance.  Immediately after the spell was completed, there came a high-pitched wail from a coil of hawser by the main mast.  From out of the ropes rose a winged creature that looked like a miniature fish person, covered with scales with black, bulbous eyes.  Basil recognized the thing as a mephit, an elemental being from the Plane of Water.  What it was doing here, he could not imagine.  All he knew was that it was right next to him, and his nearest allies were twenty feet away on the Blue Nixie.  Suddenly, he felt a wave of dizziness pass through him as the word ‘Switcheroo’ came from Sepoto’s mouth.  Using his wand, the goliath switched places with the young wizard, placing himself adjacent to the mephit.  Meanwhile, Samson wasted no time in leaping over the side of the ship and into the waves, diving beneath them in search of Marius.  

On the deck of the Wyvern, Amella hurried down from the wheel deck, drawing her sword as she came.  In contrast, Avner Meravanchi rushed back below decks on the Nixie, muttering something about checking on Lavinia.  Thrisp ignored him, instead concentrating on the demonic-looking mephit.  He began his spell, and when it was completed, a blinding flash of light exploded in the mephit’s face, causing it to flutter about in a drunken circle while its hands clawed at its eyes.  Just then, Lirith leaped onto the rail next to Thrisp, a longbow in her hands.  Knocking an arrow, she drew back the string, sighted, and released in one fluid motion.  Her shot was true, piercing the mephit through its throat and sending a gout of watery-looking fluid gushing from the wound.  Simultaneously, Sepoto struck with his chain, ripping the little beast completely in half.  What was left of it dropped messily to the deck.

Lines were cast over the side of the Sea Wyvern, and Samson and Marius were hauled back aboard.  
“What in th’name o’the Abyss was that?”  Amella shouted.  “Who’s responsible for this?”
By this time, a second pulley system had been set up and the remaining Legionnaires and guests has been transferred back to the Wyvern.  Anwar moved up to the Captain and spoke in a low voice meant only for her ears.  “Captain, my arcane colleagues have informed me that just prior to the appearance of that creature, they detected the presence of spellcasting.  Do you know of any among your crew who are capable of such?”
“Wizards?” she said loudly.  “In my crew?  Not bloody likely!”
“I suspected as much,” Anwar nodded.  “With your permission, we would like to question the crew and passengers.  We have certain methods of ascertaining the truth.”
Amella looked at him skeptically for a moment, before nodding her head in agreement.  
“Do it.  And bring the cur t’me when ye’ve rooted’im out!”

One-by-one the Legion began their inquisition.  Father Feres and Urol were known spellcasters, and they had been in plain sight on the Blue Nixie at the time of the attack.  Skald also acknowledged that he was capable of some minor magics, but he too was accounted for.  Finally, they had only two crew members left to question:  a female cook named Abigail, and a carpenter named Kirin.  As Anwar asked them the same series of queries that he’d asked all the rest, he sensed more than the normal degree of nervousness from Abigail.  He quickly dismissed Kirin, and he and Thrisp were alone with the cook in the forward crew quarters.
“Your not telling us the whole truth, are you?” he asked gently.  “We only want to find the perpetrator.  If there is anything helpful you can tell us, it would be greatly appreciated, and I’m certain you would be duly rewarded.”
The woman glanced about nervously, licking her lips.  Finally, she leaned forward conspiratorially, and spoke in a low voice, “I seen the elf, Skald his name be, hidin’ somethin’ in them ropes earlier in th’day.  I thought it just be a pint he were stowin’ fer his own use, y’know?  Didn’t see any harm in it.”
Anwar listened quietly, but he still sensed she was holding something back.  “There’s something else, isn’t there?” he encouraged.  “You’re among friends here.”
“Well…,” she said hesitantly.  “There were one other thing.  The noble’s man, Banaby, I seen him duck inta’th hold just when th’little water devil appeared.  Sneaky-like.”
“I see,” Anwar replied.  “You’ve been most helpful.  We may need your testimony later, but for now you are dismissed.”

At Anwar’s instructions, Samson checked the hawser coil, and found inside a large mason jar filled with a briny fluid.  The lid lay beside it on the deck.  Immediately, Thrisp descended quietly into the hold, finding Banaby seated in his hammock, darning a pair of Avner’s socks.  Reciting a set of arcane words in his mind, the gnome began weaving a silent spell around the manservant.  When he had finished, Banaby looked at him curiously.
“Mr. Thrisp,” he said, a smile coming over his face, “I didn’t hear you come down, sir.  Can I do anything for you?”
“Perhaps you can,” Thrisp said, seating himself opposite the major domo.  “When the attack occurred on deck, you were seen coming down here.  Can you tell me why?”
Banaby looked confused for a moment, but then he nodded vigorously.  “Aye.  I came to check on Lord Avner.  I didn’t know he was still on board the Blue Nixie.”
At that moment, Avner Meravanchi entered the hold.  “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded.  Banaby leaped to his feet, his sewing dropping to the floor.
“Nothing, my lord!” he babbled.  “I was just telling Mr. Thrisp here what I was about during the attack.”
“What right do you have to question my man, you little gutter-snipe?”  Avner snapped at Thrisp.  The little beguiler took three calming breaths before answering, resisting the urge to turn the man’s brain to jelly.
“I’m acting on the Captain’s orders in an ongoing investigation.”
“Well, take your false accusations elsewhere,” Avner said airily, “or I shall lodge a formal complaint with Lavinia.”

Thrisp took his leave and returned to the deck to find Anwar.
“He doesn’t know anything,” he said.  “I’m sure of it.  There was no way he could have resisted my Charm.  What about the elf?”
“Some elf,” Anwar snorted.  “He doesn’t even speak his mother-tongue.  You’re right, though.  He does bear looking into.  We’ll wait until we can catch him alone.  You make yourself scarce, but stay near while I speak with him.”
Thrisp nodded, and added, “I might be able to help you more than that.  Just get him talking.  I can use a minor spell to read his thoughts as he does so.  We’ll see if any guilt comes to the surface.”

Slowly, the deck began to clear, both crew and passengers retiring after the long evening.  Skald, however, remained above, staring out at the starlit sea.  Anwar made his way casually over. 
“A lovely night,” he said conversationally.  “A pity it had to be marred by violence.”  Skald did not answer, but shifted his eyes to the bard.
“I understand you’re a gifted tracker,” Anwar continued.  “We’ll need someone with your skills when we reach the island.  I’m glad you’re along.”
“Thank you,” Skald replied tonelessly.  From out of the corner of his eye, Anwar saw Thrisp concealed behind a dingy.  The gnome shook his head once.
“Well then, I’ll leave you to your meditations,” Anwar said, moving away.  “Assemble the others,” he whispered to Thrisp as he passed his hiding place.

Soon the other Legion members were assembled in the forward cabin, and Anwar relayed to them what they had learned so far.
“I couldn’t read Skald’s thoughts,” Thrisp said in conclusion.  “His mind was like a blank slate.”
“That’s because he’s not an elf,” Basil spoke up.  “He’s fey-touched.  Their minds are slippery.”
“Ah, that explains it then,” Anwar said.  “Including his lack of the Elven language.  Even so, I’m convinced he’s the guilty one.  He was seen placing the jar, which I presume contained the mephit.  He can also cast spells.  I say we kill him now, before he can cause more trouble.”
“What?” Samson shouted.  “Wait just one minute!  I’ve gone along with some of your other ideas, despite my better judgment, simply out of necessity.  Now you’re talking about killing a man simply on the word of one shaky eye-witness.  You haven’t even given him the chance to state his defense?  Are you insane?  You can’t be judge, jury and executioner for everyone you dislike!”
Anwar stared at the dragon shaman coldly.  “I believe we’ve covered this ground before.  Do you have another suggestion you’d like to put forth?”
“Why don’t we confront him?”  Thrisp interrupted.  “Present the evidence against him, and let him have his say.  Depending on his reaction, we will respond accordingly.”
Anwar’s face worked as if he were chewing on a sour grape.  “Fine,” he said finally.  “Let us see how far due process gets us.”

The group returned to the deck, where Skald still stood.  As they converged on them, he turned, a cautious look in his eyes.
“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” Anwar began without preamble.  “You were seen placing that jar containing the mephit.  Do you deny it?”
“Of course I deny it,” the ranger said, his normally quiet voice rising.  “What are you talking about?”
“We have a witness,” Sepoto growled, stepping forward menacingly.
“Look,” Skald replied, backing up a step and bringing his hands up in front of him, “I don’t want any trouble.  I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I swear to you that I had nothing to do with any of this.”
Anwar continued to stare at him intently.  Finally, he brought his face to within inches of Skald’s.  “We will be watching you,” he said in a threat-filled whisper.  “We will be at sea for three, long months.  There is nowhere you can hide that we cannot find you.”
_____________________________________________________

The next morning, news spread throughout the ship that the cook, Abigail, was missing.  At Anwar’s urging, Amella assembled the entire compliment on the main deck.  Once they were, Anwar stood on the wheel deck and addressed them.
“As you are all aware, we were attacked last night by a creature not native to this world.  My colleagues and I have conducted an investigation, and have thus far concluded that someone on board placed the mephit in concealment, and then released it just when we were at our most vulnerable.  Now, this morning, one of our number, our only witness, has gone missing.  With the Captain’s permission, I will offer one chance, and one chance only for the guilty party to step forward.  If he or she does so, leniency will be granted.”
As he spoke, Thrisp scanned those gathered, reading each of their thoughts as he did so.
‘I’ll keelhaul’im meself, once I get me hands on’im!’ Amella Venkalie’s mind raged.
‘Good riddance,’ Avner Meravanchi’s thoughts echoed.  ‘One less of the great unwashed to contend with.’
‘What a night!’ came Lirith Veldirose’s lurid thoughts of her evening with Avner.
‘I wonder what species of barnacle that is.’ Urol Forol speculated absently as he stared over the side of the ship.
‘Look how he stands!’ Tavey Nesk’s hero-worship of Sepoto broadcasted.  ‘I’ll be just like him some day!’
Finally, ‘Surely they don’t suspect!’  This from Father Feres.  Thrisp’s eyes shot quickly towards the priest, but then Anwar was speaking again.
“So be it,” he said.  “I didn’t want to have to do this, but I’m left without a choice.  Skald was seen yesterday morning concealing the mephit jar.  He was seen by Abigail.  He was confronted with this evidence last night, and denied everything.  Late in the evening, however, I concealed myself on deck and I observed Abigail and him speaking.  They exchanged heated words, and then he pushed her overboard!”
A collective gasp went through the crowd, and Skald shouted, “It’s a lie!  I’m innocent!”
“Grab him!”  Amella commanded, and Sepoto seized the ranger from behind.  “We’ll hold’im in one o’th’storage lockers until we reach Fort Blackwell,” she announced.  “Then we’ll turn’im over to the Church o’Torm!  He’ll stand trial fer his crimes!  Take’im away!”
Skald continued to protest his innocence as Sepoto and Samson dragged him below.
_______________________________________________________

Later in the day, Father Feres was summoned to the Captain’s quarters.  When he entered, he found only Thrisp and Anwar seated at a table.
“We’re on to you,” Anwar said, pushing out a chair with his foot for the priest to sit in.  Feres’ face paled as he gathered his robes close and sat down.
“I…I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” he stuttered.
‘All I have to do is deliver the package,’ his thoughts raced, and Thrisp sifted through them like an open book.
“We know all about the package,” Thrisp said.  
Feres turned completely white.  “Do…do you work for them?” he asked in astonishment.
“I’m their representative,” Anwar replied.  “I was sent to watch over you and make sure you did as you were told.  Yet your entire demeanor screams guilt.  You’re a priest of Torm.  You’re not convincing.”
Feres’ thoughts became confused.  ‘Surely he knows,’ Thrisp heard.  
“What he means to say,” Thrisp interrupted, “is that your ruse as a priest is not working.”  He exchanged a quick glance with Anwar.
“I did as you asked!”  Feres protested.
“Give me the package!”  Anwar demanded.
“But what about your promise?”  Feres cried.  “You swore you would give me a new identity!”
“It was Skald who was going to blow your cover,” Anwar said quietly.  “I had to step in to protect you.  I don’t know if he is truly guilty or not, but it doesn’t matter.  He’s taken care of…for now.  Our part of the bargain will be fulfilled, but you might want to consider this:  Skald is suspicious of you.  He could rouse suspicion in others.  His tongue needs to be silenced.  Now, where is the package?”
Feres hesitated, and then nodded his understanding before leaving to retrieve the package from his belongings.

Later still, the Legionnaires stood gathered around the box Feres had presented to Anwar.  Carefully, the bard lifted the lid.  Inside were three rolled parchments.  The first two contained spells for contacting extraplanar beings, while the third was a map.  It identified a half-dozen portals, located throughout Faerun, which led to the Plane of Limbo.


----------



## Need_A_Life

Have the Legion become _this_ careless?

Anwar, I blame this on you!
While it's 10/10 for style, it's minus several million for good thinkin'.

I must admit that it seemed like the Legion at least _tried_ to find the guilty party before finding a scapegoat, but they weren't a fraction as inquisitive as I have come to expect.

Also, I believe to have been the only one to predict Anwar's move on Lavinia (proposal)! Yay!

Keep up the excellent work, JD!


----------



## Joachim

Need_A_Life said:
			
		

> Have the Legion become _this_ careless?
> 
> Anwar, I blame this on you!
> While it's 10/10 for style, it's minus several million for good thinkin'.




Just think of this story as being The Pink Panther, but Inspector Clouseau is not only clueless but very, very evil.


----------



## gfunk

Need_A_Life said:
			
		

> I must admit that it seemed like the Legion at least _tried_ to find the guilty party before finding a scapegoat, but they weren't a fraction as inquisitive as I have come to expect.




When you are on a ship, you are essentially in a closed environment.  We will be (presumably) sailing together for three months.  We need to exert greater care for nothing else then to prevent a mutiny.

Besides, just because I fingered Skald doesn't mean I can't accuse more people of unsavory things . . . 

Anyway, tomorrow the party will be "Anwar-less" so for all of the bard haters, you will be in for a treat. 

Also, let me add that it's fairly easy to play armchair evil guy when you know the module or have the benefit of hindsight .  Besides, I don't play Anwar as someone who "promotes" an actively evil agenda.  I just do things that personally amuse me.


----------



## Need_A_Life

gfunk said:
			
		

> When you are on a ship, you are essentially in a closed environment.  We will be (presumably) sailing together for three months.  We need to exert greater care for nothing else then to prevent a mutiny.



Granted, failed to think of that



> Besides, just because I fingered Skald doesn't mean I can't accuse more people of unsavory things . . .



YAY!



> Anyway, tomorrow the party will be "Anwar-less" so for all of the bard haters, you will be in for a treat.



 Where will our casual evil come from?



> Also, let me add that it's fairly easy to play armchair evil guy when you know the module or have the benefit of hindsight .



Well, that Skald guy also gets right to me... especially because he looks like one of my friends acquaintances. He'd get thrown into the sea before he was ever a suspect   



> Besides, I don't play Anwar as someone who "promotes" an actively evil agenda.  I just do things that personally amuse me.



And doing a fine job at amusing the rest of us, too!


----------



## Supar

a shame JD didnt use what i said to the jade ravens when we got back from clean up. "you 2 go take out the trash"


----------



## JollyDoc

Supar said:
			
		

> a shame JD didnt use what i said to the jade ravens when we got back from clean up. "you 2 go take out the trash"





But I found the idea of painting Basil as the Jack The Ripper of Shadowshore much more amusing


----------



## JollyDoc

Sunday Night Preview
_________________

1)  Anwar goes AWOL to the Blue Nixie to spend some time with his main squeeze.

2)  A Spielbergian moment for the Sea Wyvern

3)  Basil gets food poisoning...twice!

4)  Father Feres contracts a bad abdominal infection, and Dr. Sepoto attemps surgery.

5)  A stowaway is revealed while Sepoto is "gettin' busy" with a member of the crew, and Skald's name is cleared...or is it?

6)  A pile of floating debris claims the lives of two Legionnaires...but two new ones join up...or are they?


----------



## demiurge1138

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Sunday Night Preview
> _________________
> 
> 6)  A pile of floating debris claims the lives of two Legionnaires...but two new ones join up...or are they?



From what I've heard, that floating debris has taken down a lot of PCs. The Legion is not alone.

Can't wait to hear about how this one went!

Demiurge out.


----------



## Need_A_Life

demiurge1138 said:
			
		

> From what I've heard, that floating debris has taken down a lot of PCs. The Legion is not alone.
> 
> Can't wait to hear about how this one went!
> 
> Demiurge out.



Damnation!

I need to buy that magazine now, what issue is it in?
I plan to get the entire path, but I am going to buy one or two issues at a time...


----------



## JollyDoc

Need_A_Life said:
			
		

> Damnation!
> 
> I need to buy that magazine now, what issue is it in?
> I plan to get the entire path, but I am going to buy one or two issues at a time...




Can't remember issue off the top of my head, but the creature is a flotsam ooze and can be found in Fiend Folio.


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Can't remember issue off the top of my head, but the creature is a flotsam ooze and can be found in Fiend Folio.




And is way Broken CR6 if you ask me.


----------



## Schmoe

It's not just the Flotsam Ooze that has given parties trouble in the Sea Wyvern's Wake.  At least, that's what I've heard...    

I'm interested to see how the inter-party relationships work out as you guys get further along.  There's already a bit of tension brewing between the characters.


----------



## Supar

The ooze i think we could have take it under different circumstances.


----------



## Joachim

Schmoe said:
			
		

> It's not just the Flotsam Ooze that has given parties trouble in the Sea Wyvern's Wake.  At least, that's what I've heard...
> 
> I'm interested to see how the inter-party relationships work out as you guys get further along.  There's already a bit of tension brewing between the characters.




Response to Comment 1:  If it has a brain, we can kill it.

Response to Comment 2:  There is no intra-party tension...that's just JD putting some drama into the story.


----------



## Schmoe

Joachim said:
			
		

> Response to Comment 1:  If it has a brain, we can kill it.




Hehe.  Who knew that having a brain was an Achilles' Heel?



> Response to Comment 2:  There is no intra-party tension...that's just JD putting some drama into the story.




Ah, ok.  Seemed like Samson was finally standing up to Anwar.  No sweat, though, it's a good read either way.


----------



## gfunk

I don't know, I certainly think there is at least a "bit" of intra-party tension.  Prime examples include the killing of the gnomish illusionist/taxidermist, the sending of Kaskus the Druid to his death, and the attempted expidted trial of Skald.  Of course, we emerged with a consensus opinion in the end  but there was certainly a lot of animated discussion.


----------



## LordVyreth

gfunk said:
			
		

> I don't know, I certainly think there is at least a "bit" of intra-party tension.  Prime examples include the killing of the gnomish illusionist/taxidermist, the sending of Kaskus the Druid to his death, and the attempted expidted trial of Skald.  Of course, we emerged with a consensus opinion in the end  but there was certainly a lot of animated discussion.




I always figured that when Anwar gets a hand on Lavinia's inheritance and decides she's no longer needed, or when the woman actually develops a clue on the subject, the party could break when deciding her fate.


----------



## Tearlach

Is the Flotsam Ooze not just an extension of the evil from Anwar...

Oh yes naughty me.  Just a joke though!!

As pointed out for its CR, that Ooze seemes over powered.  Sure if you happen to have the right gear at the right time it may not seem to be.  But then again STAP characters "seem" to be  travelling a bit more light than a traditional campaign.  Well done on removing it as a threat despite the losses team! 

Bad luck to the players that lost characters to it though.  My condolences.

Keep up the good work and even more wonderful writing.


----------



## WarEagleMage

I would love to say that Marius went out in a blaze of glory, but sadly that wasn't the case.  The warmage broke his own first rule..._fry them first, ask questions later_.  Even Anwar couldn't spin an epic yarn about his last two rounds.  At least maybe JD can make a spectacularly gruesome accounting in the SH.  Of course, death is not always the end - sometimes it's just another beginning...


----------



## JollyDoc

FLOTSAM AND JETSAM

In the days that followed Skald’s arrest and the revelations of Father Feres, life settled into the monotony and tedium that accompany a prolonged journey at sea.  Anwar quickly grew bored of toying with the passengers aboard the Sea Wyvern.  They made absurdly easy targets.  By the third day out of Tashluta, the bard had set out for the Blue Nixie, ostensibly to discuss the long term plans for Farshore with Lavinia, but his colleagues knew better.

Thrisp took to patrolling the ship from hold-to-deck, and bow-to-stern on a daily basis.  During these searches, he used his magic to seek out invisibly hidden people or things, and to look for magical auras.  He was still troubled about the turn of events with Skald, and secretly suspected that the cook, Abigail was still onboard and was the one responsible for the mephit attack.  Still, his efforts proved fruitless.

Marius had no such concerns.  He found himself becoming more and more interested in what they might find when the reached the Isle of Dread.  As a Seeker, his ambitions lay towards the uncovering of ancient antiquities.  Urol Forol had stated, on more than one occasion and to whomever would listen, that he had been to the island before.  Therefore, Marius passed the time in conversation with the gnome, though he had to endure endless lectures about the fascinating flora and fauna of the island, especially the various poisonous vermin that could be found there.  It seemed the little druid had a keen interest in natural toxins.  Ultimately, the war mage uncovered very little useful information.  Urol would only say that his previous visit was “unfortunately short…due to events beyond my control, I might add!  We’ve certainly nothing to fear this time around!”  One item the gnome did let slip, however, was that Lavinia had promised to drop anchor near the infamous Tamoachan ruins en route, and he was very anxious to explore them.  Marius smiled at this.  Ruins always meant ancient treasures.
____________________________________________________

Near the end of the first week, Basil took ill one night after the evening meal.  At first this seemed like nothing more than a bit of gastric discomfort…seasickness even, but by the next evening the young wizard was violently ill, to the point of dehydration.  As the only one with any real healing skills on board, Thrisp asked Urol to take a look at the mage.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’d been poisoned,” the druid announced after a cursory examination.  “But there’s one sure way to find out.”  He began chanting a spell, passing his hands over Basil, and over the remains of his meal as he did so.  
“Yep, it’s poison alright,” he said when he was finished.  
‘You would know,’ Marius thought to himself, but kept his suspicions to himself.  After that, Thrisp made it a point to monitor the food preparation daily, and then have Urol cast his same spell before each meal, just to be certain.  Basil recovered, and no further incidences occurred, yet Thrisp’s paranoia only grew.
_______________________________________________________

Thirteen days out from Tashluta, the ships reached the small settlement of Fort Blackwell.  The walled town had a tiny harbor, and was independently governed, unlike many of the other forts along the Chultan peninsula, which were controlled by the Rundeen.  As the ships entered the cove, they were greeted by skiffs bearing members of the city guard, insisting they be allowed to search the vessels and interview the captains.  This was carried out in a fairly cursory manner, and both caravels were admitted without incident.  

Most of the passengers and crew, including the Legionnaires, disembarked to stretch their legs and see the sights, though to the more urbane, there wasn’t much of the latter.  The only excitement that occurred was when Skald was officially handed over to the priests of Torm who ran a small shrine in the town.  The ranger continued to profess his innocence, even as he was escorted away.  Father Feres went with the priests, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder at Anwar as he did so.  The next morning, however, the cleric returned and the ships weighed anchor.
_____________________________________________________

Dawn on the first day out of Fort Blackwell found Sepoto and Samson sparring on deck while most of the other passengers and crew, including their comrades, still slept.  One exception was Tavey Nesk, who watched the two warriors in amazement and wonder.  At that moment, the goliath and the dragon shaman found themselves jarred, momentarily losing their footing, as the ship struck something, or vice versa.  The tremor passed as quickly as it came, but as Sepoto approached the port side rail, there was another jolt.  Peering over the side, the crusader was stunned to see a huge shark, fully twenty feet long, battering the hull and tearing at the boards with its teeth.  It wouldn’t take long before the beast managed to hole them.

In the common bunk room the Legion shared one deck below, Thrisp woke from his meditation at the impact that sounded as if it came from right on the other side of the wall against which he slept.  Peering out the porthole on that side, he too saw the shark…up close and personal, for it was barely five feet below his vantage.  Quickly, the gnome woke Marius and Basil and sent the two mages hurrying for the deck.  Thrisp then poked one hand tentatively out the porthole and spoke the words to a spell.  A blinding surge of color exploded into the leviathan and it thrashed back and forth in the water, temporarily unable to see.

Meanwhile on deck, Samson had joined Sepoto at the railing, and at the same time Thrisp unleashed his magic, the dragon shaman opened his mouth, spewing a caustic spray of acid down at the beast, pitting its tough hide with smoking craters.  By this time Basil had reached the deck.  He came up quickly behind Sepoto and said in the goliath’s ear, “Do you want to fly?”  Briefly, the goliath remembered an eccentric priest of Grumbar who had once visited his village when he was a boy.  He shook his head in amusement, recalling how the villagers had laughed and thrown stones at the zealot as he admonished them against the evils of flying and swimming.
“Sure,” he said chuckling.  Basil wasn’t sure what the source of his amusement was, but the wizard cast his spell nonetheless.  Sepoto immediately took to the air, diving towards the shark, his chain a whirling blur.  He struck the monster’s back, nearly severing its dorsal fin.  In agony, but with its vision slowly returning, the shark breached, lunging for the hovering goliath and taking a sizeable chunk out of his calf.  However, this was exactly what Sepoto’s companions had been waiting for.  As the beast rose above the water’s surface, Samson hurled a flask of alchemist fire, shattering it against the shark’s nose.  Simultaneously, Marius loosed twin rays of flame, which turned to scalding steam as they struck the great fish.  Finally, a blast of rainbow light from Thrisp’s porthole caused the man-eater to roll drunkenly on its side.
“Smile you sonofa…!” shouted Basil as he loosed a volley of Magic Missiles straight into the shark’s jaws, blowing its head apart.
________________________________________________________

The night of the shark attack on the Sea Wyvern, two things happened.  The first was that Thrisp, while inventorying his belongings, discovered that the scrolls and the map that he and Anwar had taken from Feres were missing.  Frantically he rummaged through the entire room, but turned up nothing.  He had made it a point to keep the documents on his person in case Feres grew bold and attempted to recover them.  He tried to think back to when he’d seen them last.  Then it came to him.  Fort Blackwell.  He’d had them when he left the ship, but couldn’t recall seeing them again since.  They must have been taken some time after they’d docked, but by whom?  And why?

The second event occurred later, after most of the ship’s compliment had already bedded down for the night.  Samson was alone topside, save for Amella, who stood her usual post at the wheel.  He heard a soft footfall behind him, and when he turned he saw that it was Lirith Veldirose.  The girl smiled coyly as she approached. 
“A lovely night, isn’t it?”
Samson, always a pragmatist, shrugged.  “I hadn’t really noticed.  I was just trying to get a feel for the winds and the tide.  We might make better time tomorrow, if I judge correctly.”
Lirith laughed.  “What difference does that make, silly?  We’re going to be at sea for three months.  Three long months.”  She paused for a moment, her eyes looking into his.  “It can get awfully lonely after awhile.”
“The ships pretty crowded,” Samson replied.  “There’s always someone to talk to.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Lirith whispered, moving closer to the dragon shaman.  “Do you have…anyone?” she asked.
“I don’t follow you,” Samson said blandly.
“You know,” she teased.  “Do you have a woman?  Someone back in Tashluta?”
Samson shook his head.  “All of my family was killed when I was still a boy.”
“You poor thing!”  Lirith gasped, running her fingers down his arms.  “You must be so alone!  I could…keep you company.  Do you get my meaning?”
Samson let a whisper of a smile show on his normally blank face.  “I think so, but I wouldn’t want to upset Avner.  He seems a bit high-strung as it is.”
A scowl marred Lirith’s pretty face.  “Who cares about that fool?  He’s just a diversion.”
“I see,” Samson nodded.  “Well, I’m not looking for any diversions just now.”
Lirith back away several steps.  “Are you sure?” she asked with a sly look in her eye.  She then began a slow dance, moving gracefully and seductively in the moonlight.  She seemed very experienced for one so young.  Samson found himself watching her intently for a moment, but then turned away, shaking his head.
“I’m flattered,” he said, “but I’d best turn in for the night.”
Lirith’s face darkened, anger flashing in her eyes.  “Fool!” she spat.  “What’s wrong with you?  Don’t you like girls?  You’ll regret this!”  She turned on her heel, and stalked off across the deck.
“I did like the dance, though!”  Samson called after her, flipping a gold coin in her direction.
________________________________________________________

It was several days later when Thrisp realized he’d not seen Feres on deck in quite awhile.  The priest had missed all three meals that day, which was quite unlike him.  Thrisp was already more than a bit suspicious of the man, suspecting that he had something to do with the disappearance of the map and scrolls.  Gathering the other members of the Legion, he descended to the passenger’s quarters, where he found the cleric lying in his hammock.  His skin was flushed, and he appeared delirious, moaning and complaining that the world had grown too bright and soft around the edges.  
“Get Urol,” the gnome snapped at Marius.  When the druid arrived, he gasped at the condition Feres was in.
“What’s happened to him?” he asked, concerned.
Basil was busy examining the priest, but he looked up at this.  “We were hoping you could tell us.  Is he poisoned?”  
Urol looked uncertain.  “It doesn’t seem like any toxin I’m familiar with,” he answered, “but I can tell like I did before.”  When Thrisp nodded, Urol spoke the words to his spell and stared intently at Feres for a moment before shaking his head.  “It’s not poison.  I’m not sure what it is.”
“I think this might have something to do with it,” Basil announced.  He had been palpating the priest’s abdomen, and when he stood back the others could see a pulsating mass beneath the skin there.
“What in the Abyss is that?”  Thrisp whispered.
“I don’t know,” Basil answered quietly, “but it feels…alive.”
“Stand back!”  Thrisp commanded, and when the others complied, he closed his eyes, murmuring a spell as he concentrated.  He reached out with his mind, first attempting to touch the thoughts of Feres.  They were just as jumbled and chaotic as his words were.  Next,  Thrisp tried to probe at the mass.  Immediately, he recoiled in revulsion, his eyes snapping open.
“It’s alive alright,” he said, his breathing rapid, “and it’s hungry!  Quick, let’s get him on deck!”

The company hurried topside, Samson and Sepoto bearing the stricken priest between them, and laying him down next to the main mast.
“What’s this then?”  Amella shouted from the wheel.  “What’s happened now?”
Thrisp scurried up the stairs to the Captain, pitching his voice low so as not to alarm any of the nearby crew.  “There is something growing inside him, Captain.  Something alive.  We didn’t want to risk whatever it is breaking free below decks where it might easily hide…and grow.”
Amella’s face blanched.  “What’re ye goin’ t’do?”  
“We’re going to try and get it out, but I want the deck cleared.  Everyone below, and batten all the hatches.”
Amella nodded and immediately ordered all of the crew members below decks.  

Sepoto had spent many hours observing the priests of Savras in their daily duties, some of which included tending the sick.  Though the goliath’s tastes ran towards a more martial bent, he had learned some rudimentary healing techniques along the way.  So it was that he was elected to attempt the removal procedure.  Kneeling next to Feres, he held a small dagger that had been heated and then doused in wine.  Feres’ breathing had grown shallow, and his eyes were wild.  He babbled and writhed, screaming as if he were being wracked.
“I need him still, damn it!” the crusader shouted, sweat beading on his brow.  
“I’ll take care of it,” Thrisp said.  He stood over the priest, and began another spell.  When he was finished, a concussion of power rippled from him.  Instantly Feres’ eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp.
“There,” Thrisp said, sighing.  “He should be out for awhile.”
Sepoto nodded, and bent to his task.  Though he tried for precision, his large hands were meant more for rending flesh.  He cut and probed at Feres’ abdomen, first separating the skin and fascia, and then the muscle layers beneath.  The deeper he cut, the more blood the priest lost.  Samson quickly joined him, focusing his psychic energy into a gentle aura of health, slowing the blood flow and clearing the surgical field for the goliath.  For several minutes, the pair kept at it, trying to find the mass, which seemed like it should be obvious, but eluded their attempts nonetheless.  At last, Sepoto leaned back, spent.
“It’s no use,” he said.  “If I keep going, I’ll kill him.”

“What now then?”  Amella asked.
“You’re Captain of this ship,” Thrisp said.  “The choice is yours.”
Amella did not seem pleased with this logic.  “Mayhap we can keep’im comfortable till we reach Mezro.  They’re bound t’have healers there.”
Thrisp moved close to her.  “Mezro’s almost two weeks away,” he said.  “He doesn’t have that long.  With all due respect, Captain, we have to make a decision now.”
“What d’ye suggest?” Amella snapped.  “We can’t just throw’im over board!”
Thrisp considered this for a moment, then said, “If we do nothing, he’s dead anyway, and we’ve got some monster loose which might kill more of us.  Let us try and see if we can destroy the mass.  It’s the only option.  If Feres dies in the process, then we’ve only sped him on an inevitable path.”
Amella mulled it over for several long moments before reluctantly nodding.  “Be done with it then.”
Thrisp turned and nodded to Sepoto.

The crusader coiled his chain around his right hand and knelt once more by the priest.  
“May your god be with you,” he whispered, and then brought his fist down, where it sank unexpectedly deep into Feres’ abdomen.  There was a horrific gout of blood and black bile.  Feres convulsed once, then lay deathly still, his face pale and his lips blue.  Sepoto withdrew his hand, staring at it in disbelief.
“I…I didn’t mean to strike him that hard…” he stammered.
“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Basil said, feeling for a pulse and finding none.  He then bent to examine the wound, and saw what appeared to be a glistening, black cocoon inside it.
“It’s an egg sack,” Marius breathed as the wizard pulled the gore-covered pouch out.
“Yes, but what kind?”  Thrisp asked.
“I’ve seen one like it before.”  Marius said quietly.  “It’s slaadi.”  The others looked at him quizzically.  “Slaad,” he explained, “are a race of frog-like creatures that dwell in Limbo.  They sometimes implant their eggs in hosts, where they gestate for a week before hatching into full grown blue slaad.”
“One week you say?”  Thrisp asked.  “We were in Fort Blackwell one week ago.  That’s when I noticed the documents we found were missing.  Including the map of the portals to Limbo.  All a bit too coincidental, don’t you think?  It seems that whomever Feres was supposed to deliver those scrolls too was none-to-happy with his failure.  They must have stolen them from me, then implanted the egg in him in the hopes that its hatchling would kill us.”

At sunset, Amella gathered the crew and passengers on deck to commit Feres’ remains to the deep.
_______________________________________________________


It was the following evening that Sepoto, alone on deck, suddenly found himself in the company of Lirith.
“It’s a shame about the priest,” she said, leaning on the rail beside him and looking out at the waves.”
Sepoto grunted noncommittally.  Samson had told them about her proposition the previous week, and the goliath was curious as to where this might be going.  
“On journeys such as these, you never know which day might be your last,” she sighed.  “Makes you want to live each one to the fullest, don’t you think?”  She turned towards him, placing one of her hands on his.
“As it so happens,” Sepoto rumbled.  “That is exactly what I think.”
Lirith smiled mischievously.  “I’ve always wandered if what they say about goliaths is true?” she purred.
“There’s only one way to find out,” he answered, taking her by the arm and leading her towards the forward storeroom.  From her vantage on the wheel deck, Amella Venkalie shook her head, a smirk on her lips.  Kids today.

Once Sepoto closed the door behind them, Lirith sauntered over to a crate and leaned seductively against it.
“You’re going to have to lose the armor, big boy,” she said.  “We don’t want anything getting in the way, do we?”
“We certainly don’t,” Sepoto grinned, “but what about you?”
“I’ve got less to take off than you do,” she smiled.  “I’ll give you a head-start, and just so you don’t lose interest, I’ll give you a little taste of things to come.”  
As the goliath started unbuckling the straps to his heavy platemail, the slender redhead began a dance that not only held his interest, but redoubled his efforts.  She was almost hypnotic in her movements, and Sepoto found himself pausing involuntarily, just staring at her.  Finally, the last strap was loose, and the last piece of mail fell.  Lirith gasped and nodded appreciatively, moving closer to the crusader.
“Now it’s my turn see what you have to hide,” Sepoto murmured, reaching for her to help her out of her clothing.  As soon as his hand touched her, however, her image began to blur and shift.  Within seconds, Lirith had vanished, and in her place stood none-other-than Rowyn Kellani!
“Oh, I have nothing to hide,” she hissed, and stepped away from him, her hand going to the rapier strapped to her side.

Below deck, in the forward crew quarters, Samson, Thrisp and Marius were still awake, discussing the ramifications of Feres’ death.  Basil was sleeping, and snoring loudly.  Suddenly, the trio heard Sepoto bellowing from somewhere above them.  They couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he definitely sounded as if he were in trouble.  Thrisp and Marius started for the door as Samson kicked Basil’s bunk.
“Wha…?” the mage asked blearily.
“Time to go to work,” the dragon shaman answered, and then he followed the other two out the door.

Sepoto lunged for his chain, which he’d coiled atop a nearby crate.  As he did so, Rowyn darted in the opposite direction, the words of a spell on her lips.  Instantly, she vanished from sight, but then the door to the storeroom opened of its own accord.  The goliath took a step for the door, but as he moved, he heard the sing-song chant of spellcasting again.  Out of thin air in front of him, a savage-looking ape appeared, with blood-red eyes, and fangs like daggers.  One large paw cuffed the crusader across the face, rocking him back on his heels, and sending an explosion of stars circling before his eyes.

By that time, Samson, Thrisp and Marius had arrived on deck.  Samson saw Avella moving towards the stairs from the aft deck, a look of confusion on her face.  Quickly, he rushed towards her.
“Stay back!” he shouted.  “Sepoto’s under attack!”
“What is it with you people?” Amella snarled, but she didn’t come any further, though she slipped her blade from its sheath.
Meanwhile, Thrisp and Marius moved towards the snarls and roars coming from the open door of the storeroom.  When the gnome saw the ape looming over Sepoto, he released what was fast becoming his signature spell…a Blinding Color Surge.  At the same time that the ape clawed at its eyes, Thrisp winked out of sight.  Marius used the opportunity to launch his own offensive, sending two scorching threads of fire at the animal.  As it howled in pain and rage, Sepoto shook his head clear, and then struck.  When his chain smashed into the ape, it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Suddenly, Rowyn reappeared, standing atop one of the life boats right next to Marius, her rapier tip buried deep in his side.  The war mage cried out in agony as she twisted the blade, then ripped it out with a wicked laugh.  
“You will all pay with your lives for what you have done!” she snarled.  “You ruined everything, and when I offered you the chance to join me, you chose to stand by that Vanderboren bitch!  Now you will see what it means to cross House Kellani!”
“I think we’ve heard quite enough from you,” Thrisp said in a bored voice.  “Now why don’t you be a good girl and shut up?”  He waved his hand, spoke a few words, and Rowyn swooned where she stood before dropping in a heap to the deck.

Amella joined the Legionnaires as they gathered round the sleeping smuggler.  
“Who the blazes is this?” the Captain asked.  “And what’s she doin’ on my ship?”
“Her name is Rowyn Kellani,” Thrisp said, and when Amella raised her eyebrows in alarm, he nodded, “Yes, those Kellanis, but you needn’t worry about them.  You see, Rowyn and her mother had themselves a nice little smuggling operation going in Tashluta.  You may have heard of the Lotus Dragons?  Well, here is the Lady of the Lotus herself.  Their goal was to take over Tashluta’s entire shipping concern, with the help of Lavinia’s traitorous brother, Vanthus.  We put a stop to all that and brought their operation down around their ears.  Even now, the Dawn Council is investigating House Kellani, and will probably strip them of all lands and title.  It would appear that poor Rowyn is a tad bitter about all of this, and still harbors a grudge or two.”
“Ye don’t say,” Amella smirked.
“Yes,” Thrisp continued, “and further more, I think we have made a terrible mistake.  I happen to know that Rowyn is a master of disguise, and I believe it is now obvious that she has been the one behind the mysterious attacks on this ship, from the mephit to the food poisonings.  I think she first disguised herself as Abigail, and then killed the cook by disguising herself as Skald and throwing her overboard.  I’m sorry to say that we convicted and imprisoned the wrong person.”
Amella cursed roundly, but quickly regained her composure.  “Well, there’s nothin’ fer it now.  All we can do is send word with the next ship we cross headin’ east.  They can relay a message to Fort Blackwell, and things can be set t’right with the poor ranger.  As fer this wench, she’ll not be so lucky.  On th’high seas, the Captain be judge, jury, and if need be, executioner.  As far as I’m concerned, she’s guilty o’murder, attempted murder and sabotage.  The sentence be death!”
Thrisp glanced over at the still-naked Sepoto and nodded.  The crusader sighed, taking up his chain.
“Pity,” he said.  “We were just getting to the good part to.”  
________________________________________________________

INTERLUDE:

Skald screamed as the shadowy creature approached.  He strained at his bonds, but they were so tight that he could not even turn his head.  The thing leaned over him, the firelight falling across its alien features.  Red-scaled skin covered its frog-like face, and its tongue flickered out hungrily.
“Don’t fear,” it hissed.  “Your suffering will end soon, and you shall have the glorious destiny of bringing new life into this world with your death.”
The ranger screamed again as pain like a hot poker pierced his abdomen.
__________________________________________________________


Twenty-three days into their journey, the Sea Wyvern and the Blue Nixie reached the mouth of the Olung River.  Here Lavinia ordered the ships anchored to take on fresh water.  It was her intention to set sail again by sunset, but as the time grew closer, a thick fog began to gather.  It grew thicker quickly, and soon the two vessels were invisible to each other, even though they were only a few hundred feet apart.  It became obvious that they would not be able to sail in the mist and gloom, and so the captains gave word to anchor for the night.

Urol assured everyone that fog banks like this were perfectly natural in warm, coastal waters, but even so, the passengers and crew were uneasy.  Most of them went below decks, where they would not have to see the all-consuming mist.  The Legionnaires decided to post rotating watches throughout the night, and it fell to Marius to pull the last shift before dawn.

The warmage paced the aft deck impatiently, anxious for dawn to arrive so they could be underway again.  Suddenly, something struck the port side of the ship.  At first the Seeker thought it might be another shark, but then the whole vessel canted sharply to port, and then righted itself again.  Cautiously, he crept towards the rail and looked over.  What he saw was what, at first, appeared to be a great clot of flotsam adrift in the current, but it became quickly apparent that something more was afoot.  The debris was moving against the current, and creeping slowly up the side of the ship.  Marius stepped back, but he was a fraction of a second too slow.  A great, viscous pseudopod extruded from the mass, smashing into him with the force of a mule kick.  Worse, when it struck, it stuck like glue.  Before he knew what was happening, the war mage found himself yanked from his feet, and pulled over the side, where he landed heavily atop the floating wreckage.  As he struggled to free himself, another pseudopod rose above him.  When it fell, Marius knew no more.

In their room below, the other four Legionnaires awoke immediately with the first impact.  When Thrisp peered out the porthole this time, he saw nothing.  Not bothering to don armor, the group gathered their weapons and started upstairs.  Samson was the first to arrive.
“Marius!” he shouted when he did not see the mage.  The ship was again listing to port, and the dragon shaman moved to the rail, Sepoto a step behind him.  Both of them saw the drifting flotsam, but then their eyes focused on what floated atop it…Marius body, unmoving save for one arm which flopped with the current, back and forth as if beckoning.  
“What the...?”  Samson began, but his words were cut short as another pseudopod shot upwards, slamming into his chin.  The dragon shaman started to fall backwards, but was stopped as the ooze-like appendage held him in place…and then yanked him overboard.

“We’ve got major problems here!” Sepoto bellowed to Basil and Thrisp, who stood a respectful distance behind him.  The goliath then snapped his chain downward, slashing at the trash-covered ooze.  Each time he struck, however, he felt his weapon stick, threatening to be torn from his grip, but he managed to tear it free again after each blow.  
“Take cover!”  Basil shouted, but Sepoto knew that was impossible.  The wizard would have to throw his spell, and if he was caught in it, then so be it.  An instant later, a large ball of fire erupted in the air above the ooze, burning much of its attached debris, and scorching the gelatinous hide of the creature itself.  

Thrisp was momentarily at a loss.  He had, of course, heard of oozes before, but he didn’t have much practical knowledge of their weaknesses.  He only knew one of their strengths, and it was a major one as far as he was concerned.  They were mindless, like amoebae.  Most of his beguilements would be useless…with one or two possible exceptions.  Quickly, he began to cast, and when he was done, a circle of almost two-dozen invisible and incorporeal sentinels circled silently above the ooze.  They were not capable of proactive aggression, but should the creature attempt to move away from them, that was a different story.  Thrisp set to work on the second part of his plan.

Samson pulled and strained against the ooze, but he was completely immobilized.  All he could think of to do was to open his mouth and breathe his acidic breath.  The caustic spray burned and pitted the ooze, and this gave the dragon shaman another idea.  Concentrating, he focused his mental power and began radiating an aura of energy which would further inflict the same acidic burning should the creature strike him again…which it did immediately, driving the air out of his lungs.

Sepoto prepared to strike again, but before he had the chance, the ooze struck first.  Instantly, he was stuck, but when the thing tried to pull him from his feet, the goliath braced himself, straining with all his strength, and barely managing to keep his footing.  A second fireball from Basil exploded again, and once more the ooze burned, but still the horrible creature held him fast.  Below, he saw Samson breath again, but it was his last.  The ooze hammered into him, momentarily submerging him.  When the dragon shaman floated to the surface once more, blood poured from his mouth, and his eyes stared sightlessly at the sky.
“Noooo!”  Sepoto screamed, and in that moment, he lost his balance, and tumbled over the rail.  He knew it would not be long before he joined his friend.  He wondered what it would be like to meet Savras.

It was now or never, Thrisp thought.  Closing his eyes, he drew a mental picture, speaking the word to his spell as he did so.  When he opened them again, the image in his mind’s eye sprang forth.  Behind the ooze appeared the illusory form of a large orca, critically wounded and splashing about in obvious distress.  The ooze was mindless.  It could not know that this new, easy prey was not real.  Hungrily, it released the Sea Wyvern and began swimming towards the illusion.  As soon as it moved, however, Thrisp’s unseen sentinels struck.  In moments, the ooze was battered to pieces, and the flotsam attached to it began to disperse and drift away on the tide.
_________________________________________________________

EPILOGUE

Two days later, the Sea Wyvern and the Blue Nixie pulled into port in Mezro.  The thriving coastal metropolis was the largest civilized area in Chult, and would be the last they would encounter before heading out to open sea.  Anything and everything could be found in Mezro…including the occasional miracle.

As it so happened, Urol had contacts among the druidic shamans of the various Chult tribes that saw Mezro as a holy city.  So it was that the bodies of Samson and Marius were brought to one such holy man.  For a fee, he agreed to attempt to recall the souls of the dead, but he warned them…their friends might not be exactly as they remembered.  Nonetheless, the remaining members of the Legion agreed to proceed.  The shaman worked in silence, laboring for hours constructing clay simulacrums, which bore no facial features, and appeared to be of no particular race or sex.  When all was ready, he wove his magic.  Before the startled eyes of the onlookers, the clay molds began to take on flesh and substance, reshaping themselves in a matter of moments.  Then, a glow began to surround the bodies of Marius and Samson before flowing into each one’s adjacent new body.  The host for Samson’s soul sat up first, looking around in confusion.  Then he looked down at himself.
“Oh no,” the goblin dragon shaman moaned.  
Thrisp, however, could not take his eyes off of Marius.  “What in the Hells do you think you’re looking at?” the war mage barked.  “Surely you’ve seen a naked gnome before!”


----------



## demiurge1138

Hooray for reincarnation! 

It's a little unclear from the language in the last couple of paragraphs of the flotsam fight whether or not Sepoto makes it out alive - I assume he does, because he's not reincarnated, but he could have easily been stuck to the ooze when it swam out to sea.

Love the denoument of the stowaway storyline, and am glad that the slaadi are getting their due (wonder if they'll show up again?). Also, the random encounter with the shark was wonderful - from the Grubber reference to the Jaws, probably the funniest totally-irrelevant-to-the-story aside the Savage Tide's gotten.

Demiurge out.


----------



## JollyDoc

demiurge1138 said:
			
		

> Hooray for reincarnation!
> 
> It's a little unclear from the language in the last couple of paragraphs of the flotsam fight whether or not Sepoto makes it out alive - I assume he does, because he's not reincarnated, but he could have easily been stuck to the ooze when it swam out to sea.
> 
> Love the denoument of the stowaway storyline, and am glad that the slaadi are getting their due (wonder if they'll show up again?). Also, the random encounter with the shark was wonderful - from the Grubber reference to the Jaws, probably the funniest totally-irrelevant-to-the-story aside the Savage Tide's gotten.
> 
> Demiurge out.




Sorry about that, but you are correct...Sepoto survived.  He was dragged out to sea, but since he'd been awakened from sleep, he wasn't wearing his armor.  In game, Basil flew out to him and cast Fly on him, then they hauled the dead bodies back to the ship.  

I'm telling you guys, the players this time around are giving me Story Hour gold.  The writing comes easy with all this (gasp!) role-playing going on.  Just when you think you know people...


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Briefly, the goliath remembered an eccentric priest of Grumbar who had once visited his village when he was a boy.  He shook his head in amusement, recalling how the villagers had laughed and thrown stones at the zealot as he admonished them against the evils of flying and swimming.



And I thought two PC deaths in one session were mean...

Great update. I have enjoyed all your story hours (except for Red Hand of Doom, which fell a little short), but this SH has a new quality of unexpected turns. Keep it up !!!  

More gnomish goodness, I mean badness. If they keep this up, Amella will go mad.  Poor lot for Samson, though. Guess that's what he gets for turning down Rowyn.


----------



## Schmoe

Great action!  I really like the Skald interlude, too   Obviously that Flotsam Ooze hit like a ton of bricks, but the Legion found a pretty creative solution.  And I'm glad to see that Samson and Marius will be continuing, even if they are a little different now.  Oh well, it could be worse.  Imagine a goblin Sepoto!


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Schmoe said:
			
		

> Oh well, it could be worse.  Imagine a goblin Sepoto!







Let's NOT    I would have started something Different  for sure or Tried to get the money for a Raise Dead. No way was I taking a chance of coming back as a Kobold!!!! Or better yet a Freakin GNOME. So glad I lived


----------



## LordVyreth

I suppose Samson and Marias should be glad they're still HEs, for that matter.  I'm not sure if that little aspect still exists in the reincarnate tables, but it would make sense.


----------



## JollyDoc

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> I suppose Samson and Marias should be glad they're still HEs, for that matter.  I'm not sure if that little aspect still exists in the reincarnate tables, but it would make sense.




The council (read...DM!) was merciful.


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Great update. I have enjoyed all your story hours (except for Red Hand of Doom, which fell a little short)




I assume you are using "your" in the plural sense.  Redhand, if you recall was...ahem...Joachim's baby.


----------



## Zaruthustran

Oh, man. Great update! Thanks for the entertainment.

-z


----------



## gfunk

*Sunday Night Update*

TOMB RAIDERS!!!  Thrisp, Samson, Anwar, Basil, Marius, and Urol set off to see the wonderful ruins of Tamoachan.

1. With advance warning re: the basilisk, it goes down fast and hard.  The question is this, we have a couple of unused stone salves so should we "free" some petrified former adventurers?  Wallowing in his new evilness, Basil suggests we free a couple and use them as meat shields.  Not to be outdone in the evil department, Anwar suggests knocking the heads of the statues first and THEN using the salve to make off with their equipment . . .

2. With a little bit of "inspiration" from Anwar, Thrisp masterfully locates and disarms the myriad traps in the ruins.  And does a little work as a point man to Marius' artillery.

3. An encounter between a feuding will-o-the-wisp and a demonic bat-creature is interrupted by the Legion.  Samson shows that, even as a goblin, he ain't no slacker when it comes to melee.  And of course with magic support from Marius and Thrisp . . .

4. Attempted parlay with our will-o-the-wisp "ally" goes poorly . . .


----------



## Zaruthustran

*Character builds*

I'm building a Crusader for a game, and boy: Book of Nine Swords is a whole new level of powergamer complexity. What is Sepoto's build? I'm curious how y'all have tweaked your guys.

-z


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

I am at work and do not have my stuff in front of me but Sepoto as of right now is Crusader4/Cleric1 next level will be taking Ruby Knight Vindicator. 
Stances
Iron guard Glare -4 to hit my Alies if I threaten you
Martial Spirit   heal 2 points to  a ally if I hit someone that is threatening me or my Friends

Feats Exotic Weapon Prof. Spiked Chain.,Extra granted Maneuver,Combat Reflexes(Flaw Feat)

Mainly using Devoted Spirit Maneuver's and White Raven so Far.


That is all I can safely post off the top of my Head


----------



## R-Hero

Jollydoc said:
			
		

> _...eccentric priest of Grumbar......that damnable Veritas......_




Really *great* stuff, Joe.  I peed just a little when I read the passage about the Gumbarian preist getting rocks thrown at him.  

(Gotrs' mad that he is missing out on the evil funness. )


----------



## JollyDoc

R-Hero said:
			
		

> Really *great* stuff, Joe.  I peed just a little when I read the passage about the Gumbarian preist getting rocks thrown at him.
> 
> (Gotrs' mad that he is missing out on the evil funness. )





I can picture Gotr in the jungle as chief of his own little tribe of savage bullywugs.  All hail the chief!!


----------



## JollyDoc

TOMB RAIDERS

Anwar rejoined the crew of the Sea Wyvern when the ships set out from Mezro.  Too much had transpired during his absence, and the bard simply hated being out of the loop.  Plus, Captain Venkalie needed a little extra placating now that there were three gnomes aboard her boat.

As the days passed, Urol became more and more excited.  The expedition was drawing nearer to the legendary ruins of Tamoachan, scheduled to arrive within a fortnight.  Lavinia had told the Legionnaires that she had promised the gnome a two-day layover so that he could explore the ancient city, but she would feel more comfortable if they accompanied him, just in case he got himself into any trouble.  Urol talked incessantly about the coming adventure, relating the tale of how he’d come by the map to an unexplored section of the ruins.  According to this story, he purchased the map from a one-legged sailor who, in turn, claimed to have been given it by a dying elf fished from the sea.  This nameless elf was part of an expedition which stumbled upon the hidden section of the city by accident.  Unfortunately, the group was attacked by a strange eight-legged lizard with glowing eyes that turned those who saw it to stone.  Only the elf escaped back to their ship, but on the voyage back to Tashluta, the boat sank in a storm.  
“Are you saying there’s a basilisk guarding these ruins?”  Basil asked.
“Well…” the naturalist hesitated, “yes, but only one!  I’m sure you fellows can handle it, and besides, if any of you gets turned to stone, I have plenty of stone salve.  I can turn you back quick as a flash!”  
Basil still looked dubious, but Marius was just as eager as the gnome to go exploring.  The Seekers lived for just such discoveries, and the warmage was no exception.
_________________________________________________________

Fourteen days out of Mezro, the two ships reached the sheltered cove indicated on Urol’s map.  It was decided that Sepoto would remain aboard the Sea Wyvern, in the event that something or someone came upon the vessel while the company was gone.  Amella would need a seasoned warrior should trouble arise.  

The other members of the company, with Urol, took a launch to the beach, and then set out on what would prove to be an hour-long trek through the sweltering jungle.  Thrisp took the lead, scouting stealthily ahead of the others, and proceeding with even more caution as they approached the area where Urol’s map showed the ruins to be.  Ahead, the jungle parted to reveal the remains of a large chamber, once held within the root of a ziggurat, which towered above, but now open to the elements.  Images of pouncing and stalking cats graced what was left of the vine-strangled walls.  Dozens of moldering, stuffed jungle cats lay scattered around the edge of the exposed room, along with several strangely unweathered statues of men dressed in armor.  Of the five passageways that once led further into the ziggurat’s depths, only two remained uncollapsed.

Thrisp crept stealthily across the clearing towards the nearest passage.  Behind him, he heard the approach of the others.  Just as he reached the hall, and his companions entered the area, he heard the sound of falling stones, and scrabbling from one of the blocked passages to his left.  When he turned in that direction, he saw a reptilian creature, roughly the size of a large dog, but with eight stumpy legs, scrambling out of the tunnel.  It was the basilisk!  Apparently, it had neither seen nor heard him, but the others were not so fortunate.  The basilisk began moving across the chamber towards them.  Before it was halfway across, however, Thrisp began a spell…the same one he’d used on Rowyn Kellani.  And it worked just as effectively.  The basilisk took one more lumbering step, and then collapsed onto its belly, snoring loudly.  Samson didn’t hesitate.  Taking a spear from Marius, the little goblin walked right up to the sleeping beast, and plunged the blade down through its skull.  
“You see?”  Urol cried, clapping his hands in delight.  “I told you it wouldn’t be any problem!  Excellent work!  Just excellent!”  Then his attention was drawn to the statues posed about the room.  “These poor devils!” he exclaimed.  “I still have my stone salve.  Don’t you think we should do something for them?”
Anwar moved to the gnome and laid a hand on his shoulder.  “Surely you don’t have enough for all of them?” he asked.  Urol shook his head, eyes downcast.
“No.  I have only two applications.”
For a moment Anwar fumed.  The little liar had said he had plenty!  What if more than two of them had been turned?  If that had happened, he would have made sure this was one venture the gnome would never have returned from.  Quickly, he regained his composure.
“Well then, how are we to decide who lives and who dies?” he asked.  “Best not to dwell on it now.  They will still be here when we return, and perhaps we can decide better then.”
Reluctantly, the druid nodded his agreement.

Thrisp took the lead again, making his way down the eastern passage, a magical Zone of Silence enveloping him, so that any sound he made would not be transmitted beyond it.  Forty-feet down the tunnel, he came into another chamber, this one fully enclosed.  A huge statue of a lumbering man outfitted in decayed skins and cracked skulls, his gaping and tusked mouth wide enough to swallow a halfling whole, stood to the north.  A battered, but once intricately carved well sat to the south.  The entire area was littered with skulls and shards of rusted metal.  Thrisp paused at the entrance to the room, and cast another spell, one that allowed him to detect emanations of magic.  After concentrating for a moment, he picked up the tell-tale glow coming from somewhere inside the well.  Slowly, he moved forward until he could just see over the edge.  Immediately, he drew back, for there was something crouched just inside the shaft.  It appeared to have a body like some giant amoeba, though its surface had the color, if not the consistency, of human flesh.  Countless eyes and toothy mouths seemed to constantly form and disappear all over the creature, often retreating into its form even as they became apparent.  Quickly, Thrisp hurried back to warn his companions.

“I don’t think it knew I was there,” he finished.  “We can still get the drop on it, if we’re careful.  I’ll take Marius, Basil and Samson with me.  That way we can all be shrouded in silence, and it won’t hear us coming.”
“A capital idea!” Anwar agreed.  “Urol and I will wait here.  If you run into any trouble, just give a shout.”
Thrisp turned back towards the tunnel, rolling his eyes.  ‘A lot of good that would do,’ he thought.  The creature didn’t look like the sort that could be taken in by silver words and a squirt of perfume.  With his three companions, he made his way down the hall once more, until they stood just outside the chamber.  Suddenly, the air filled with a cacophonous gibbering, as the creature heaved itself out of the well.  It had spotted them!  
“Damn it!”  Samson cursed, stepping fully into the room and placing himself between the creature and the others.  As it oozed towards him, the dragon shaman unleashed his acidic breath upon it.  It squealed in pain, but this only added to the maddening din it was already making.   Then Marius and Basil were behind him.  The two mages cast, and a mixture of fire and ice struck the abomination, freezing large sections of it while simultaneously searing others.  It ceased its jabbering as suddenly as it had begun, folding in on itself until only a small pool of ichor remained.  Watching in disgust, Marius didn’t see Thrisp approaching from behind, his shortsword in his hand.  The insane gibbering of the creature had scrambled the gnome’s coherent thoughts to the point where he could not tell friend from foe.  He jabbed his blade forward, piercing the war mage’s side with a shallow graze.  Then, just like that, Thrisp’s mind cleared.
“Ow!  What in the Hell’s?” Marius shouted, whirling about, his hand clutched to his bleeding ribcage.  Thrisp looked down at his bloodied sword in confusion.
“Oops,” he said.
______________________________________________________

The chamber proved a dead-end, with only a small bit of treasure to be found amid the remains of past meals of the monster scattered at the bottom of the well.  The group retraced their steps to the entrance, and then took the northeast passage.  It ran for a mere fifteen feet before it ended at a ten-foot wide, fifty-foot long landing overlooking a larger chamber to the north, which was accessible by a short flight of downward sloping stairs.  The entrance to the larger room was framed by dozens of skeletons carved into the fifty-foot wide arch, their bones intertwined with hundreds of carved snakes.  Unnerving ripples of black smoke slithered and danced among the carvings.  The floor of the larger chamber beyond appeared to have once contained a breathtaking sculpture of an ancient city, yet time had taken its toll on the map-like fresco, reducing it to a tangled mess that, ironically, almost seemed to reflect the ruined Tamoachan above.  The walls were decorated with brightly colored paintings depicting a royal court in ceremonial garb, and a king arrayed with his magnificent armies.  Pathways wound through the ruins, affording a twisting route through the rubble.  In the center of the room was a wide plaza, in the middle of which rested a low, stone table.

“I recognize the nature of this arch,” Anwar said, stepping closer to examine it.  “It’s Maztican, one of the ancient tribes that once populated the Chultan peninsula.  This marks the entrance to their land of the dead, indicating that beyond lies a crypt, or perhaps a place where the priests prepared the dead for the afterlife.”
“It’s magic,” Thrisp said, studying the arch as well.  “Necromancy, if I’m not mistaken, though something about it seems to be…unstable.”
“Perhaps some ancient ward, designed to keep out intruders,” Anwar mused.
“Like us,” Samson added.
Thrisp moved even closer to the arch, running his hands along one edge.
“I think I can disable the magic,” he announced after a moment, and then set to work with his tools.  A moment later, he stood and nodded.  The wispy smoke had vanished.
“There,” he said.  “It should be safe now, though I felt a bit unnerved for a moment.  Still, I’m detecting the presence of magic in the main chamber.  It’s strong…and destructive.  Fire-based, unless I miss my guess.”
“Ah, then I have just the thing!” Anwar said, fishing in his pack.  He pulled a scroll case out and unfurled its contents, reading them aloud and then touching the gnome.  “Safe as a lamb now,” he said.  “Flames can’t harm you…at least temporarily.”
Thrisp looked skeptical, but knowing that no one else had his skills at finding and disabling traps, he moved carefully into the map room.  

He had gone barely ten paces before there was a roar of sound and intense heat from behind him.  Turning, he saw a wall of flames spring into being and begin moving towards him.  Ducking reflexively, he was relieved to find himself unharmed when the wall passed right over him.  It continued across the chamber to the far side, where it winked out of existence.  Quickly, he dashed to an alcove on the east side of the room, from which opened a narrow, natural fissure.
“The magic is still there!” he shouted across to the others, and no sooner had the words left his mouth than the fire wall reappeared, once more moving slowly across the room.  As it passed, the others darted through the area, joining Thrisp in his cubby, and then following him down the narrow passage.
“But I wanted to explore that room more thoroughly!” Urol whined as they moved away from the burial chamber.
“Be my guest,” Anwar sneered.  “I’d just be quick about it, or you’re likely to come back with quite a sunburn.”
Urol didn’t look amused.
______________________________________________________

Tlanextli heard the fire trap being sprung, and he quickly floated down the tunnel to see what had been killed, anxious to feed on its fading life force.  When he arrived, however, he was surprised to see not only no one dead, but in fact six creatures practically brimming with life!  Anger flowed through him at first.  More intruders to his lair!  Just as quickly, however, it turned to something else…hope.  Perhaps these mortals, if they were canny enough to outwit the basilisk and make their way past the trap, might just be able to penetrate the barrier.  If so, then he could kill his hated enemy at last!  Once that was done, he would feed on the mortals as well.  Yes!  Things were definitely looking up.
_______________________________________________________

The tunnel they traveled appeared to be a natural vent through the stone.  Thrisp surmised it may have been opened after an earthquake, sometime in the past.  After winding for several dozen yards, it ended in a small room, the walls of which were covered with eroded glyphs and hieroglyphic images depicting what appeared to be bat-like creatures feasting on humanoids.  The eastern wall, beyond a low archway, consisted of a strangely out-of-place sheet of iron.

Basil and Thrisp studied the drawings intently.  
“Do you recognize them?” the gnome asked.
Basil nodded.  “Varrangoin.” he said.
“What are they?” Anwar asked.
“Denizens of the Abyss,” Basil answered.  “Mercenaries to more powerful beings, usually.  Strange that they should be drawn here.”
“The Mazticans had various bat, snake and lizard cults,” Urol observed.  “Perhaps these are just representations of their beliefs.”
“Have a look at this,” Marius called suddenly from across the room, where he’d been examining the iron wall.
“What about it?” Anwar asked, moving towards him.
“It’s not natural,” the gnome said.  “Magic, most likely.  Created here.”
“Then we have to get past it!” Urol shouted.  “There has to be something of great value beyond it, otherwise why would it be here?”
Anwar considered this for a moment, and then nodded.  “I would tend to agree.”  Marius looked relieved.  “Samson, do you think you’re up to the task?”

Fifteen minutes later, the dragon shaman had beaten a hole in the wall large enough for them to squeeze through one-by-one.  Urol was right.  Another chamber awaited on the far side.  It bore a strange resemblance to the previous one, in that the floor consisted of a stone scale model of an ancient city.  Yet whereas the previous model was terribly damaged, this chamber seemed relatively well preserved.  The layout and style of the city was quite different, with four wide canals converging upon a large lake in the center, from which rose a great stone pyramid.  Mighty temples rose from the low, angular buildings, while the stone walls depicted life-like images of leering bats, lizards and snakes.

Urol gasped in amazement as he gaped at the room, and Samson had to physically restrain him from simply wandering in.
“Fool!” the goblin snapped.  “Are you trying to get yourself killed?  You’ll have plenty of time to sightsee after we make sure it’s uninhabited.”  
Urol nodded reluctantly, but it was obvious that he was as anxious as a child on its birthday.  Thrisp moved to the hole and concentrated on the room beyond.  Immediately he sensed the presence of magic, and within a few moments, he narrowed it down to the pyramid in the chamber’s center, or rather something inside the pyramid.  Motioning for the others to wait, he made his way carefully across the miniature cityscape until he stood beside the ziggurat.  Meticulously, he examined every inch, determining that it was in fact a sarcophagus of some sort, and that its top was removable.  It was also trapped.  Should he just lift the lid, some sort of mechanical trigger would be tripped.  He rubbed his hands together briskly, stretching his fingers as he prepared to disarm the device.  From across the room he could hear the sound of Anwar singing a low tune of encouragement, the sound helping to calm his nerves and steel his resolve.
_____________________________________________________

Thrisp wasn’t the only one who heard the song.  From his nest atop the stone calendar, in a room not-to-distant from the map room, Sutolore’s large ears pricked up.  Could it be?  Had someone finally breached the cursed wall that he had inadvertently triggered during his battle with the ‘wisp?  He fervently hoped so.  He had been surviving on rancid water and spiders since his imprisonment, and he was ravenous.  Spreading his wings, he took to the air.
____________________________________________________

Thrisp heard the trigger click and waited breathlessly for a moment to see if he had inadvertently set off the trap.  When nothing happened, he gave the high sign to his companions, then bent to the task of removing the lid.  At that moment, a terrifying shriek filled the air.  Thrisp gasped involuntarily and looked up.  Flying towards him was a creature which resembled a human-sized bat with an emaciated body and a skull-like, demonic face.  It sported a pair of ragged wings, and a long tail which bore a wicked barb on its end.  Its skin was coal black and hairless.  Thrisp recognized it immediately.  It was a varrangoin, just like the ones in the murals.  As it streaked towards him, a glowing ball of light suddenly appeared between them.  At first Thrisp thought Marius had loosed some new spell he’d learned, but the gnome did not recognize it as any magic he’d ever seen.  It flew directly at the bat-thing, and as it drew near, a small bolt of electricity arced from it to the varrangoin.  The latter shrieked in a combination of rage and pain.  It spoke in a guttural tongue that Thrisp recognized as the language of the Abyss.  
“I defeated you once before!” it hissed at the light ball.  “Why won’t you die?”

Basil heard the exchange as well, and he knew exactly what the glowing orb was…a will-o’-wisp…a creature of pure evil that fed off the life energies of others.  At the moment, however, it seemed intent on battling the varrangoin.  ‘The enemy of my enemy,’ Basil thought, recalling an old street proverb.  The bat-demon apparently saw things the same way.  It swept around the ‘wisp in a graceful arc, diving right for the iron wall.  It paused a dozen feet away and opened its mouth wide, belching forth a great gout of fire.  Basil ducked behind the wall at the last moment, but Samson, Marius, Anwar and Urol were all caught in the blast.  Anwar quickly retreated back down the narrow passage, hustling the little druid before him.  Samson, on the other hand, charged forward, slamming his morningstar solidly into the varrangoin…and not even scratching its skin.  

Marius wasn’t sure what they were facing, and he didn’t much care.  He only knew that it was a matter of their survival versus the creature’s, and he wasn’t going to make his previous mistake of overanalyzing the situation.  He stepped to the hole in the wall, and launched two sizzling rays of flame at Sutolore, both of them scorching the demon’s hide, but not nearly as much as the warmage would have liked.  Beside him, Basil released a volley of arcane missiles, scoring telling hits with all.  Suddenly, a blinding flash of multicolored light flared from Thrisp’s direction, and the varrangoin clutched at its eyes.  Blindly, it breathed flames again, and Samson, Basil and Marius were directly in the line of fire.  In response, Samson breathed forth his own caustic breath, but the burning liquid simply beaded on the demon’s skin like water.  Just then, the will-o’-wisp appeared behind Sutolore, and shocked him again with its electric touch.  Simultaneously, Marius hurled a ball of ice he’d conjured, pelting the demon in the chest.  Sutolore’s vision slowly returned, and he hissed at the enemies surrounding him.  Suddenly, he felt a wave of hopelessness sweep over him.  His mind told him he could not win the battle, though logically, he knew this was false.  Still, he could not fight the sensation, and gradually, he felt consciousness leave him.

Anwar watched from a safe distance as the varrangoin slumped to the floor, a victim of Thrisp’s latest parlor trick.  The bard strode confidently into the chamber, applauding.  Then, sweeping his cap from his head, he bowed to the bobbing will-o’-wisp.
“You have our thanks.  We have defeated a common foe, and we now wish to offer you parley.”
As he spoke, Samson stood above the unconscious bat-demon, and systematically bashed in its skull with his cudgel.  The glowing orb pulsed for a moment, hanging motionless in the air, and then it darted directly at the goblin, sending a bolt of energy into Samson’s back.  
“I’ll take that as a no,” Anwar said, ducking behind the dragon shaman and pulling a wand from his belt.  As he touched it to the goblin, Samson’s worst wounds began to close.  Meanwhile, Marius and Basil both fired twin volleys of arcane missiles at the ‘wisp.  It pulsed more rapidly, glowing red and rushed at the wizards, sending bolt after bolt of electricity at them.  As it passed Samson, however, the dragon shaman swung his morningstar, connecting solidly, though the creature seemed insubstantial.  It pulsed once more, then vanished from sight.
_________________________________________________________

“I’m staying here, and that’s final!”  Urol said, folding his arms defiantly across his chest.  The druid was insistent that he be allowed to examine the map room, despite the warnings of the Legionnaires that the area might not yet be secured.
“Suit yourself,” Anwar shrugged.  “Just leave a note designating who your belongings should go to in the event of your untimely demise.”
The company then left the room, following a curving hall to another interior chamber.  A huge, circular disk of stone dominated the floor of the room, its face carved with dozens of concentric rings of hieroglyphs and shapes.  A filthy nest of bones and rubble sat atop it.  Marius readily identified the disk as an Maztican calendar, and Basil guessed this had been the nesting place of the varrangoin.  Beyond the room, they came upon twin statues of men dressed in strange, ancient armor and wearing towering headdresses made of coiled snakes and bat wings, standing to either side of an arched doorway.  On the other side of the arch was a circular room, its walls adorned with dozens of niches, in which rested the desiccated bodies of long-dead men and women.  Beyond this chamber, a yawning shaft descended into gloom.  The walls were fitted with hundreds more niches, upon which lay the dusty bones of heroes, priests, kings, queens and warriors of a bygone age.  Resting upon the topmost niche, cradled in the arms of a skeleton, was a glittering golden statuette of a bat.  Its eyes were made of rubies, and it had tiny slivers of pearl for fangs and claws.  The group found themselves immediately drawn to it, and Thrisp determined that it radiated a faint aura of transmutation magic.  Basil took it from its perch, and examined it closely, closing his eyes and concentrating on the magical energy it gave off.  Some time later, he opened them again, and looked at his companions.
“It’s a key,” he said.


----------



## Schmoe

Ah, Varangoin!  Those are fun critters.  In one of my campaigns I had a ruined city overlooked by cliffs with tribes of Varangoin living in caves in the cliffs.  I've been waiting a long time for them to appear in some "official" adventures.

Great work in Tamoachan.  But I wonder, is that wisp really dead, or just fled for now?


----------



## Supar

great update GD but i must say one thing. Don't Be A Grumbar Hater! Also on the note of who to use stone salve on a meat shield would have been fine but a young lady slave for sepotos "chain" and basils "pen" woould be my vote


----------



## Schmoe

In Tamoachan once lived a wisp
Who spoke with a very strong lisp
They thought he was dead
But he was just fled
And returned to fry them to a crisp!


----------



## Joachim

Just for clarification, the Varangoin was downed by the use of _Inevitable Defeat_, but no one could see or hear it because Thrisp was invisible (from the _Blinding Color Surge_ and _Zone of Silence_).

Great update, Joe.  Tamoachan was a dream series of encounters for Thrisp as everyone had a brain, and there were lots of places for me to use my maxed skill ranks (Hide, Search, et al).


----------



## Ed Gentry

I like the sense of passage of time in these last few posts. A lot of games just have the players get on the boat and then they're just there. Some intrigue and happenings on the journey is great. Good job, JD.


----------



## JollyDoc

Ed Gentry said:
			
		

> I like the sense of passage of time in these last few posts. A lot of games just have the players get on the boat and then they're just there. Some intrigue and happenings on the journey is great. Good job, JD.




Thanks!  The nature of the whole AP seems to invite this kind of role-playing and epic feel...a journey undertaken rather than just a destination.  I like it alot, even though its a departure from our standard play style.  I think the group is getting a kick out of it too.  It's really allowed for some good character development.


----------



## demiurge1138

The debate over de-stoning, killing and looting the basilisk's victims didn't make it in! From gfunk's description, that sounded both hilarious and vile. Was that a tangent that wasn't appropriate to mention, or is that going to be in next week's update?

Demiurge out.


----------



## JollyDoc

demiurge1138 said:
			
		

> The debate over de-stoning, killing and looting the basilisk's victims didn't make it in! From gfunk's description, that sounded both hilarious and vile. Was that a tangent that wasn't appropriate to mention, or is that going to be in next week's update?
> 
> Demiurge out.




That debate has yet to fully occur.  It was touched on on the way into the ruins.  They plan to revisit it this week when they leave, so stay tuned.  BTW, there are 10 stoned adventurers out there, of all races and types.  It will be very interesting to see who gets "saved."


----------



## Need_A_Life

Great work, as always!

I like how the AP actually encourages that intrigue happens during the three month journey, rather than just being "three months later..." as it usually is.


----------



## gfunk

*Sunday Night Update*

1. Deeply sorry for the immense suffering they caused the Jade Ravens by slaying half their number, the Legion provides restitution.  "I bring a gift: these two NPCs."

2. As a pirate ship closes in on them, the Legion demonstrates why arcane spells have clearly obsoleted naval warfare.  Sadly, an attempt to take the pirate captain prisoner is cut in half by a certain spiked chain.

3. While fighting the Flotsam Ooze, Sepoto learned an important lesson . . . don't stand at the edge of the upper deck.  When the Sea Wyvern stops for some well-needed *hydra*tion that lesson is reiterated . . . seven times.

4. Our final land destination prior to Farshore is a quaint Olman village.  In an unfathomable act of cultural sensitivity, the Legion attempts to learn all they can about these magnificent people and their ancient culture.  Sadly, a horrendous faux paus on the part of Avner leaves everybody in hot water.  Fortunately, Dipolmacy + Bluff + Disguise = permanent solution to the Avner problem.

5. We hit the Saragasso and make a quick day trip to the "Rage."

6. As we set off to destroy the mothership, we are ambushed by 4 vine creatures.  Paizo keeps its inexplicable tradition of placing very low CR monsters in unbelievably favorable environmental conditions, effectively doubling their CR.  Of course, we only see the increased difficulty w/o the increased reward.   Sweat forms on Jollydoc's brow as half the Legion falls leaving the others to deal with a deadly threat.


----------



## Joachim

gfunk6 said:
			
		

> As we set off to destroy the mothership, we are ambushed by 4 vine creatures.  Paizo keeps its inexplicable tradition of placing very low CR monsters in unbelievably favorable environmental conditions, effectively doubling their CR.  Of course, we only see the increased difficulty w/o the increased reward.   Sweat forms on Jollydoc's brow as half the Legion falls leaving the others to deal with a deadly threat.




Correction:  Paizo keeps its inexplicable tradition of *creating* very low CR monsters in *for encounters in* unbelievably favorable environmental conditions...


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## Schmoe

Joachim said:
			
		

> Correction:  Paizo keeps its inexplicable tradition of *creating* very low CR monsters in *for encounters in* unbelievably favorable environmental conditions...




First, I would think that the environment is part of the encounter and keeps things interesting.  But I would also expect that the XP reward would reflect the increased difficulty of the environment.  There used to be guidelines such as "Award 150% normal XP for this encounter, due to the challenging setup."  Isn't that the case?


----------



## Hammerhead

In our group's experience, anyone who takes a hydra's full attack is probably dead...I'm going to bet that our favorite goliath meets a similar fate. 

About point number four...why would you care? Was Anwar working some kind of angle?


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## gfunk

Schmoe said:
			
		

> There used to be guidelines such as "Award 150% normal XP for this encounter, due to the challenging setup."  Isn't that the case?




We'll have to check w/ JD but I would venture to guess probably not.



			
				Hammerhead said:
			
		

> About point number four...why would you care? Was Anwar working some kind of angle?




Well, nobody likes Avner as he is a royal pain in the ass.  Plus I was able to "dispose" of him in such a unique way that was so delightfully ironic that I couldn't resist.  Besides, I've heard he's got an uncle on Farshore who could be duped (or more accurately swindled out of goods and cash) w/ the Disguise skill.


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## Zaruthustran

gfunk said:
			
		

> *Sunday Night Update*
> 
> 1. Deeply sorry for the immense suffering they caused the Jade Ravens by slaying half their number, the Legion provides restitution.  "I bring a gift: these two NPCs."




gfunk with a _Return of the Jedi_ quote for the win!

-z


----------



## JollyDoc

JOURNEY’S END

The Legionnaires, minus Sepoto, and Urol stood examining the ten petrified souls that stood arrayed outside the basilisk’s lair.  Many races were represented among them, including a dwarf bearing the symbol of Moradin and wearing plate armor, a similarly armored gnome, bearing the sign of Garl Glittergold, a kobold attired in leathers, a human dressed the same, an ogre wielding a longsword, another human carrying a composite bow, a half-breed orc in robes, a half-elf in adventurer’s garb, a dark elf, hands upraised as if to cast a spell, and lastly, a troglodyte, heavily armored, with a strange image around its neck.  All of them were frozen in the middle of some action, posed forever in their last acts of defiance.
“Eenie, meenie, miney, moe,” Anwar muttered to himself.
“Eh?  What’s that you say?” Urol said, turning from the stone gnome.
“Oh, I was just speculating on our dilemma,” the bard answered, strolling through the morbid rock garden as if he were an art collector.  “It’s a shame we can’t save them all.”
“Yes,” Urol agreed, “but if we can only save two, then that’s at least a small mercy.  The gnome and the dwarf seem the most deserving, I think.”
“Really?” Anwar asked, eyes narrowing.  “Why would you say that?”
“Well…” Urol paused for a moment, then continued, “They’re holy men.  Look at their symbols.”
“I would argue that the troglodyte is a holy man too,” Anwar observed.
“Well, yes,” Urol looked flummoxed, “but he’s….well, he’s a troglodyte!  They’re evil!”
“Come now my little friend,” Anwar admonished.  “I would expect better from you, one who studies the nature of things.  You can’t judge a being simply by virtue of race or circumstances of birth.  The troglodyte could be just as noble as the priest of Moradin.  For that matter, look at this fellow.”  He walked over to the ogre, looking at it in admiration.  “What a fine specimen, and just look at the way he wields his weapon, as if he would give his life to save his companions, which he did.  And see here,” the bard pointed to a petrified wolf at the ogre’s feet.  “From your knowledge of all things natural, do you think such an animal would travel willingly in the company of a cruel master?”
“Well…I suppose not,” Urol conceded.  
“Here is how I see things,” Anwar pressed on, “the Jade Ravens are down two members, due to their unfortunate encounter with the bullywugs.  They need a strong arm among them, and they need spiritual guidance as well.  I say we free the dwarf, as you suggested, but we also free the ogre.  What say the rest of you?”  He turned to his companions.  
Thrisp, for his part, knew the bard was up to something, but so far his schemes had served them well.  The beguiler was inclined to follow Anwar’s lead at least for a little while longer.  He nodded his agreement.  
Basil nodded enthusiastically as well, his sadistic nature intrigued by anything the cunning minstrel suggested.
Marius shrugged noncommittally.  He was still preoccupied with consolidating all of the notes he’d gathered on Tamoachan, and he cared little for what became of these unfortunates, or the Jade Ravens for that matter.
Only Samson hesitated.  The dragon shaman did not trust Anwar, and he made no efforts to hide that fact.  The problem was, he could never find the flaw or the angle in the bard’s plan until it was too late.  Finally, he turned away, muttering, “Whatever you think best.”
“It’s settled then!”  Anwar said, using his favorite turn of phrase.  “Urol, you may proceed.”

“F’zal, watch out!”  Lugnut roared as he brought his blade down and struck…nothing.  The ogre looked around in confusion.  The last thing he remembered was entering the ruins with the rest of the Skullcrushers, and then being surprised when the basilisk came lumbering out of its hiding place.  Now he saw the basilisk’s dead body laying nearby, and stone statues of his companions, not to mention the motley assortment of gnomes, a goblin, a red-eyed human and a half-breed elf.
“Before I kill ya, I guess I’d better thank ya fer savin’ m’life,” he growled, raising his sword defensively, and sinking into a crouch.”
“Now, now, there’s no need for violence,” the half-elf said, smiling.  “Allow me to introduce myself.  I am Anwar Rosznar, and these are my traveling partners.  We are known as the Legion, and we have an offer for you.”
“I’m listenin’,” Lugnut said, “fer now.”
“I gather that you and your former teammates ran into the same bit of trouble that we did, but as you can see, we have dealt with the basilisk,” Anwar gestured towards the corpse.  “Alas, we only have one more application of the magic salve we used to restore you.  As it stands, your options seem, shall we say, limited, while we in turn find ourselves in need of a strong arm, and a healer.  You see, we are part of an expedition bound for a place called Farshore, a colony on the mythical Isle of Dread.  Our ships lay at anchor back in the harbor.  If you are willing, we offer you passage in return for your skills.  I can promise you plenty of travel, excitement, and gold!”
The ogre seemed to mull this over for a few moments, then relaxed his stance.  “Ya got a point.  It’s a long walk back ta Mezro, and I can’t pilot a ship m’self, even if I did kill ya and yer crew.  I can swing a sword, don’t get me wrong, but I’m a tracker by trade.  Ya said ya needed a healer too.  How bout Ssithiss over there?”  He hooked a thumb towards the troglodyte.
“Yes, well, about that,” Anwar dissembled, “I’m afraid it’s going to be hard enough explaining someone of your…stature to our captain and employer, much less bringing a troglodyte along, not to mention the smell!  I believe we’ve decided on that dwarf.”
Lugnut shrugged, “Don’t make no difference ta me.  One healer’s as good as another far as I’m concerned, just so long’s they don’t get too preachy.”
“I agree wholeheartedly,” Anwar said.  “Urol, you can revive our second guest now.”

The dwarf, Bombur by name, was just as taken aback by his surroundings as Lugnut was, but Anwar’s silver tongue soon won him over as well.  Though saddened that his gnome and half-elven companions would have to be left behind, he was nevertheless thankful for his own salvation, and eager to repay his saviors with service.  Besides, travel to an unknown land filled with primitives would afford him ample opportunity to spread the tenets of Moradin to the heathen.  Lugnut scowled at this.  As the group prepared to return to the ships, the ogre looked about as if searching for something.
“Say, ya didn’t happen ta see a wolf around here, did ya?”
Anwar suppressed a smile.  Anticipating that the ogre might insist on its restoration, the bard had the others toss the statue into the jungle while Urol was busy examining the local fauna.
“Sorry, no,” he answered.  Lugnut shrugged again.  
“Don’t matter none.  I can always get me another one.”  Sure enough, before the group reached the beach, a mangy looking wolf trotted out of the jungle, heeling to the ogre like a whipped cur.  Lugnut dubbed him Fang XIII
__________________________________________________________

Though initially shocked by the appearance of the ogre, Lavinia quickly became delighted by the fact that her lover had gone to such great lengths to replace the Jade Raven’s losses.  Tolin and Zan were a bit more dubious, but accepted the offer nonetheless, mainly because of Bombur’s eagerness and honest nature.  

The expedition weighed anchor and continued northwest along the Chultan peninsula.  Four days out from Tamoachan, Lavinia brought the Blue Nixie alongside the Sea Wyvern.  She explained that the next several miles would be among the most dangerous of their journey, as they were approaching waters controlled by Rundeen blockades.  She suggested that, in order to minimize their chances of being spotted, the ships should sail around the northernmost tip of the peninsula separately, about a half hour apart.  Amella agreed with the plan, and she dropped anchor until the Blue Nixie disappeared from sight, then weighed again and followed her sister ship.

The Sea Wyvern rounded the cape as planned, but the Blue Nixie was nowhere to be seen.  Instead, a black-sailed vessel appeared on the horizon, some three hundred yards off their starboard.  
“It’s Rundeen!” the watchman called down from the crow’s nest.  Amella cursed, but then the crewman called again.  “She’s raised a flag of parley!”
“What do you know of the Rundeen?”  Anwar asked the Captain as he climbed to the wheel deck.  
“I know they call themselves merchants,” Amella spat, “but they’re no better than pirates!”
“Then might I suggest a preemptive strike on our part?” the bard asked calmly.
“Ye haven’t steered me wrong yet,” the Captain said.  “What’s yer plan?”
“Keep on your present heading.  We’ll draw then in closer, and then we’ll attack.”

“I don’t like it,” Samson said.  “Firing on a ship that is offering a truce.”
“It’s a trap!”  Basil snapped.  “Anyone can see that!”
“I’m afraid I have to agree,” Marius said.  “From what I know of the Rundeen, parley isn’t one of their usual tactics.”
“But why destroy them?” the dragon shaman pressed.  “We can easily disable them, and they are just as neutralized.”
“Fine,” Anwar conceded.  “We’ll try and spare them, but if they fight when we board, we will give no quarter.”

Marius stood at the bow, the wind whipping his long hair back from his face.  His gaze was fixed on the approaching caravel, carefully gauging the distance.  When he judged the range was right, he said, “Now,” and raised his hands.  From his palm flew a pea-sized ball of flame, streaking out across the water towards the Rundeen vessel.  Soon, it was lost from sight, but the explosion which engulfed the enemy’s rigging was plainly visible, as was the charred corpse that fell from the lookout.  Behind him, Marius could hear his companions making their final preparations.  Basil had cast a spell of flight on Sepoto, while Thrisp had wrapped himself, the goliath and Samson in spheres of invisibility and silence.  Basil had then cast the same spell of flying upon himself, and rendered himself invisible as well.  Still the Rundeen ship came on.  The war mage loosed a second Fireball, this one smaller than the first, but just as destructive.  One section of the caravel’s rigging collapsed completely.  The Rundeen crew fired off a token ballista shot, but the distance was still so great that the bolt went wide by yards.  
“Hold your fire,” the seeker heard Basil say.  “We’re on our way.”

Sepoto grabbed Thrisp under one arm and Samson under the other, and lifted off the deck, arcing out over open water towards the merchant ship.  As he did so, he heard Amella give the command to come about, and the Sea Wyvern turned due south, opening the gap between her and her pursuers.  Thinking their prey on the run, the Rundeen struggled to give chase, though the damage inflicted by Marius severely hampered their speed.  They had no idea what they were sailing towards.

Unheard and unseen by the crew of the Rundeen vessel, Sepoto deposited Thrisp and Samson on the quarterdeck.  Just as the goliath was preparing to neutralize the nearest pirates, he heard a familiar voice coming from behind him, chanting.  The crew apparently heard it as well, as they all turned in that direction, and the Captain, standing on the foc’s’le, quickly quaffed an elixir and began shouting orders to prepare to repel borders.  If Basil could have seen the look on Sepoto’s face at that moment, the young mage would have seen death there, for it was his casting that had tipped off the enemy sailors.  As it was, the crusader channeled his fury at his opponents, flashing into view as he nearly decapitated the two nearest him with his whirling chain.  Following Sepoto’s lead, Samson clubbed the sailor next to him, reappearing as the man slumped to the deck.  In unison, the remaining seamen raised their crossbows and opened fire at the death-dealing invaders among them.  The chaos and close quarters of the situation worked against them, however, and not a single shot scored a hit.  At that moment, the Captain leaped in among his men, opened his mouth and belched out a great gout of fire, sending the flames washing over Sepoto and Samson.  

By this time, Basil had reached the ship, and despite ruining the element of surprise, managed to redeem himself somewhat in Sepoto’s eyes by taking out a cluster of four sailors with a hail of ice and snow.  Sepoto used the distraction to barrel thru another clump of pirates, and close to the Captain.  The man took a step backwards, but not fast enough.  The goliath shredded his shirt and the flesh beneath with a flick of his chain.  Meanwhile, Samson brought his own breath weapon to bear on two more sailors, and when they turned their crossbows on him, Sepoto whirled and caught them both with a double slash, dropping them where they stood.  Unfortunately, when his back was turned, the Captain spat fire at him again.  The goliath grinned wickedly as he turned slowly back.  The Captain’s eyes grew round with fear, and they never closed, even as his head went sailing into the sea.

In the end, only two members of the crew remained alive, and they quickly surrendered after witnessing the brutal fates of their comrades.  They explained, on questioning, that their ship, the Purity’s Prow, was a privateer vessel for the Rundeen.  They had orders to capture any ships they spotted, and claim their cargo as spoils and their crew as slaves to be taken to Calimport.  Their ship had been at sea for months, with little to show for it, and they were forbidden from returning to port until they’d made their quota.  Therefore, they’d been desperate when they’d seen the Sea Wyvern, continuing their pursuit even in the face of the magical assault.  The Legionnaires ultimately stripped the crippled vessel of anything valuable, then scuttled it, setting it to burn.  When the Sea Wyvern returned, they presented the captured pirates to Amella, who assigned them duties as deckhands.  The pair seemed quite enthusiastic about the prospect, seeing as how they would be provided decent food and quarters.
_________________________________________________________

Lavinia had hoped to resupply food stores at Fort Beluarian, but when the expedition arrived there, some nine days after their encounter with the Rundeen, it was obvious that something terrible had happened.  The wooden palisade surrounding the fort had been torn apart, and the fort itself had been burned to the ground.  It appeared that whatever had happened occurred several months past.  The Legionnaires, along with Urol, put ashore to investigate, but found no sign of life or activity.  There were signs of a great battle, as evidenced by dried blood stains, the timbers of collapsed buildings, broken weapons in the sand, and hundreds of black-feathered arrows.  These Urol identified as the workmanship of lizardfolk.  There was nothing further to be learned, and so the ships continued on.
_________________________________________________________

Four days later, the ships arrived at the mouth of the Soshenstar River, where they would again take on water stores.  The point where the river met the sea was marked by a magnificent water fall, which cascaded over a cliff to the ocean below.  With no beach nearby, it was easy for a ship to sail in fairly close to the falls.  There was only room in the harbor for one ship at a time, and so the Sea Wyvern ventured in first, dropping anchor and then sending out a rowboat to fill the barrels.  The process would take most of the day, and the passengers and crew took their leisure on deck, enjoying a beautiful, cloudless sky.

Sepoto walked along the quarterdeck, admiring the beauty of the falls.  On a whim, he took a copper piece from his purse and tossed it into the water, watching as the ripples expanded outward…and kept expanding.  In fact, the smooth surface began to froth and churn as something huge erupted from the depths.  Sepoto took several steps back, remembering the flotsam ooze all too well.  This was no ooze.  It looked reptilian, draconic even, save that instead of one head, it had seven, all hissing and snapping their jaws in unison.  The crusader shouted a warning, and the passengers began scrambling for the hatches.  The creature’s heads turned to follow the fleeing people, and some of them made as if to grab for them, but Sepoto leaped in front of the monster, hammering at it with his chain.  A great wound was torn in the creature’s side, but almost immediately, it began to knit itself back together.  

“It’s a hydra!”  Marius shouted.  “Weapons alone can’t kill it!”  The warmage began backing away, also remembering his untimely death, but he wasn’t fast enough.  One of the hydra’s snake-like heads struck, biting into his thigh.  He pulled himself free, stumbling backwards, the words to a spell on his lips.  Instantly, a beam of golden light arced from his hand towards the behemoth, coiling about it like a rope.  As it did so, it took on the form of a giant, ghostly serpent, and it wrapped itself tightly about the hydra, constricting all of its heads together.  

 By this time, Basil and Samson had arrived on deck.  The dragon shaman quickly breathed his acidic breath at the hydra, but what little damage he inflicted was quickly healed.  Basil fared better with the Fireball spell he lobbed at the beast.  At that moment, however, the hydra strained against Marius’ spell, momentarily freeing its heads and bringing all seven to bear on Sepoto.  The goliath tried to fend off the attacks, but there were just too many.  Five times they slipped through his defenses, opening horrible wounds in his flesh.  Sepoto collapsed to one knee.  He knew he could not suffer another such assault.  Then, a blinding flash of color signaled Thrisp’s arrival.  The hydra howled as its sight went dark.  This allowed Marius’ serpentine enchantment to regain its hold.  A combined barrage of Fireballs by the war mage and Basil sent the monster sinking back into the depths.  
“My thanks,” Sepoto gasped.  “The only thing I could think of was that the rest of you would try and restore me to life if I died.”  He looked pointedly at the goblin dragon shaman.  “I assure you, there are fates worse than death.”
_______________________________________________________

Another six days at sea, and the expedition reached the Maztican village of Renkrue.  This was to be the last continental stop before they put out to open sea.  Lavinia planned to take on provisions and do some trading with the villagers, and suggested that the crew of the two ships take some shore leave.  

Anwar and Thrisp, realizing that they would be dealing with more Mazticans when they reached Farshore, took the opportunity to mingle with the villagers and learn what they could of the local customs and language.  It was while they were speaking with one of the village elders, that a young boy came running up, out of breath and chattering rapidly in his native tongue.  The elder’s face darkened and became visibly angry.  He turned to Anwar and Thrisp, scowling deeply.  
“Is there a problem?”  Anwar asked.
“One of your people,” the elder snapped, “he try to buy young girl.  Offer parents coins and beads for her!  You bad people!  We no trade with you! Go now!”
Anwar looked at Thrisp and the gnome nodded, “Avner.”  
“Please,” Anwar said placatingly, “we apologize deeply for this insult.  What is the penalty for such an offense among your people?”
The elder continued to frown.  “Man must make payment to family, or else be flogged in square.”
“I see,” Anwar said, suppressing a smile.  “Good sir, I promise you, this man will be brought to justice.  I will bring him before you tonight.  You have my word on it.”

“What’s your plan?”  Thrisp asked as they walked back to the Sea Wyvern.
“The less you know, the less you incriminate yourself,” the bard smiled.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll handle everything.”

Anwar found Avner sulking in his cabin.
“What do you want?” the young noble sneered.
“I heard you got yourself in a bit of trouble this morning.”  Anwar answered, grabbing a chair and making himself comfortable.
“What of it?”  Avner snapped.  “They’re just savages.  They’d sell their own mothers for the right price.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Anwar said, holding up his hands, “I understand perfectly.  We’ve been at sea for weeks, and the scenery tends to get…routine, if you know what I mean.  Lirith strikes me as a little spitfire, but even the spiciest soup gets cold after awhile.”
Avner stared at him skeptically.  “What are you getting at?”
“Well,” Anwar continued, warming to the part, “it’s just that we’re going to be laying over here tonight, and it just so happens that I’ve come upon the location of a…hospitable establishment that caters to the tastes of a gentleman such as yourself.”
“Where is it?” Avner asked doubtfully.  “I asked around myself, but everyone looked like I’d just killed their pet.”
“Subtlety, my friend,” Anwar replied.  “You have to know whom to ask, and how to pose the question.  Let’s just say that, if you’re still interested, I can promise you a night like you’ve never had.”
“What’s in this for you?”  Avner asked, suspicion in his eyes.
“Nothing,” Anwar shrugged, “at least not now.  When we reach Farshore, however, and you establish yourself in your uncle’s household, you might just remember a friend who did you a service.”
Avner smiled, and Anwar extended his hand, which the noble shook enthusiastically.

Later that night, Anwar and Avner slipped into the village under cover of darkness.  The nobleman was dressed in his best finery, and clutched a bottle of wine under his cloak.  Anwar led him to the only stone structure in town, built several years back by a Tyrite missionary.  It was currently used as the chief’s dwelling and a communal hall, but Avner didn’t know this.  
“Here?” he asked.  “Isn’t this a bit…conspicuous?”
“It’s not a fixed operation,” Anwar answered.  “Due to the somewhat stringent sensibilities of the villagers, these arrangements are made by appointment only when dealing with trade vessels.  Don’t worry.  You’re in good hands.”
They approached the building, and Anwar opened the door, motioning Avner inside.  No sooner had the noble entered, than he was seized by a pair of burly warriors.
“What is the meaning of this?” he cried.  “Unhand me!  Do you know who I am?”
“Indeed they do,” Anwar chuckled behind him.  “It seems that one option for repaying an insult as grave as yours is for the offender to serve as an indentured servant to the family for a period of one year.  Consider your sentence a light one.  Another option was for them to simply castrate you.”
“You can’t do this!”  Avner screamed.  “Don’t you think I’ll be missed?  My uncle will have your head!”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Anwar said quietly, pulling his cloak over his head, then leaning forward where only Avner could see his face in the shadows.  When the nobleman peered within the hood, he saw his own reflection looking back at him.  “I believe your uncle will welcome me as a beloved nephew.”
“Nooooo!!”  Anwar heard Avner shriek as he turned and disappeared back into the night.
_______________________________________________________

Over the next few days, Banaby Chisk and Quenge Asper found their master morose and withdrawn, commanding that he not be disturbed.  They feared the long voyage was taking its toll, and he was simply overwrought.  They honored his wishes, leaving his meals outside his door.  

One evening, the Legionnaires were surprised to receive an invitation from Avner, inviting them for a drink in his cabin.  When they arrived, they noted that Anwar had not come.  Avner invited them in, uncorking a battle of his finest vintage, and pouring each of them a around.
“I suppose you’re all wondering why I’ve asked you here,” he said, but as he seated himself, his features blurred, and Anwar grinned devilishly at them over the lip of his cup.
“Surprise!”
______________________________________________________

The ship sailed on into open sea, navigating the treacherous Pearl Current before passing a bleak rock of an island called Ruja, one week after leaving Renkrue.  The island was uninhabited, and the expedition did not stop.  It would be the last land they would see for the next two weeks.

Late one night, after weeks of clear weather, the wind began to whip into a frenzy, and by dawn the ships were caught in a full-fledged gale.  All through the day, Amella battled the storm, her superior sailing skills keeping the ship from being driven off course.  By the next morning, the wind had died, though the skies remained cloudy.  Only after assessing their damages did the crew of the Sea Wyvern come to a horrifying realization:  the Blue Nixie was nowhere to be seen.  Amella reassured her passengers that their sister ship had likely been blown off course, rather than sunk.  Lavinia’s instructions had been clear in case of such an eventuality.  They were to continue on to Farshore, and rendezvous there.  There was no other choice.

As dawn broke on the fourth day after they had lost the Blue Nixie, burning fitfully through the morning fog to light the sea, something seemed strange about the waters below.  They seemed almost solid, as if the sea had formed some odd sort of skin.  The air seemed dead as well, and the sails hung limp, heavy with moisture from the receding fog.  As the mist began to clear, what was unveiled was not the gently rolling vista of the sea, but a wet, green field of weed.  The swath of dirty emerald stretched flatly in all directions.  To the stern, it extended for perhaps a half mile, beyond which lay the open waters of the mocking ocean.  In all other directions, the weed extended to the horizon.  Trapped within its vice were dozens of other long-dead ships, their hulls protruding at odd angles, masts askew, sails hanging in tatters.  One such ship lay mired only six hundred feet to the port, and it seemed to be in better shape than the others.  Perhaps most unnerving, however, was neither the sight nor smell of so much sun-baked seaweed.  It was the unnatural silence, for the thick, choking green had robbed the Sea Wyvern even of the strangely comforting sound of water lapping against her hull.  It was not a healthy silence.  It was the silence of a graveyard.

“It’s a sargasso!”  Urol cried, breaking the silence with his exuberance.  “But I’ve never seen one so big!  A patch a mile across would be unusual.”
“That’s because this is no mere sargasso,” Anwar said softly.  “It’s called Journey’s End.”
Amella’s eyes snapped to his.  “How do you know of such things?” she hissed, making the sign of the Evil Eye.
“Knowledge and storytelling are my stock in trade,” Anwar replied.  “I’ve heard the sailor’s tales.  Rumors of a living island that appears from the mists after storms.  An island that is said to have a black soul that fuels the hunger of children rumored to live within its green embrace.  It’s said to be able to crush ships in its grip, and its children are awful creatures formed of the weed itself, and are said to rise by night to slake their hunger upon any their green mother has caught in her grasp.”
“Stop it!”  Amella commanded.  “Do you want to start a panic?”
“My apologies, Captain,” the bard said.  “I’m merely telling what I know.”
“Do you know how to escape it?”  Thrisp asked.
“Alas, no,” Anwar replied.  “The stories say there is no escape.”  He looked at Amella.  “But they are just stories, after all.  That ship,” he pointed towards the caravel nearest them.  “It looks less damaged than the others.  Perhaps it hasn’t been here very long.  It may provide some clues as to what we can expect.”
No one had any better ideas, though Marius did try burning the weed around them, to no significant effect.  Since it was obvious that a row boat could not traverse the distance to the other ship, Sepoto was lowered down to the surface of the sargasso to test its depth.  The goliath found that it supported his weight easily, though the feel of it squelching under his feet was disconcerting.  One by one, the other Legionnaires descended, and then set off towards the wreck.

The marooned vessel was strangled with weeds and vines, almost as if immense, green claws held it in their grasp.  In many places the caravel, a ship hauntingly similar to the Sea Wyvern, had been torn apart by the vegetation’s rampant growth.  A plate near the stern gave the vessel’s name…Rage.  The company entered via a large hole leading into the main hold.  Once inside, they found that the doors from the deck above had been barred with timbers, but to no avail, as they lay smashed along with a broken ballista.  Although once the ship had lower decks, they were completely filled with weeds.  Beyond the hold lay the remains of the captain’s cabin, with a large hole in the floor through which the green of the sargasso could be seen.  Thrisp immediately spotted a tattered journal laying on the edge of a table across the room.  Due to the sunken deck, the journal was precariously perched at the table’s edge.
“Allow me,” Anwar said, rolling up his sleeves.  He spoke the words to a minor cantrip, and beckoned towards the book.  As he did so, a misty, disembodied hand picked up the journal and brought it to him.  The bard began rapidly thumbing through the pages.  It seemed to chronicle the tale of a monk named Anhelm and his journey along the northern coast of Chult to visit the native villages.  The document told of a fierce storm that drove the Rage far out to sea, but it was the entries on the last few pages that were of greatest interest.

“This foul green land is stained with blight,” Anwar read.  “We tried to cut away the weed, but to no avail, and soon had to abandon the tools we had used, their edges dulled to misery…”
“At noon, I ordered Carus and Twaid out onto the weed to explore.  How large can such a place be?  The crew grows restless…”
“It is dusk.  Efforts to destroy the weed have failed.  I have explored what I could, but this is all mists and weed.  When will Carus and Twaid return?  Despite the calm, the night is not still, and I feel eyes watching me…”
“The night brought noises, but no attack, but I fear for my brothers.  I heard cries in the night…was it them?  I feel something is alive here, but what can it be?  Captain Grough claimed the land had a black heart…maybe Carus and Twaid will have some useful information when they return…”
“Afternoon.  I have decided to find my brothers, and have taken Ranis and Pale with me.  They are good brothers, and will aid me as best they can.  We shall find the land’s black heart…”
“We headed east, making good headway as only brothers can.  By night we had covered many miles but saw nothing but more of the green…”
“It is night and I can hear life.  Something moves at the edge of sight.  Why do they not show themselves?  I can hear them whisper one word, over and over, ‘Outsiders…’”
“It is afternoon.  We have come to a terrible place, a forest of weed grown in mockery of real life, a mire of skeletal ships.  How many souls have been lost here?  Our supplies grow wan, we must return by morn to the Rage…”
“It is dawn, and we have returned to the Rage too late.  The crew are gone and the weed holds her ever fast.  Where have they gone…?”
“I can hear them in the day now.  They are outside.  They are watching.  They want me to join them, but I shall not…”
“Ranis and Pale are dead.  They came through the mist, yet they were not the same.  I knew them by the tatters of clothes draped over the green that took their flesh.  What wore their bodies has been vanquished, but I know that these were but the children of what dwells at this land’s heart.  I must seek the mother at this heart, for to destroy the mother is to destroy  the brood.  If only I had…”

“This correlates with what I’ve heard about Journey’s End,” Anwar said once he’d finished reading the narrative.  “Whatever sustains this monstrosity dwells at its center.  We can’t just sit and wait, or we shall face the same fate as the crew of the Rage.  I suggest we tell Amella what we found, and then set out east.”
The others agreed, and the group returned to the Sea Wyvern.  Amella was not happy at the prospect of them going off alone, but she could not fail to see that they had little other choice.  She said that if they did not return within two days, she would send out a party after them.
“If we have not returned by then,” Sepoto said, “they you should assume we have perished, and you should look to your own souls.”

Shouldering their gear, the company set out.  The sargasso stretched for miles around them, and the scenery never changed.  Always it was the endless green, broken here and there by the skeletal remains of ships.  Finally, as the sun began to set, the group decided to make camp for the night.  They would sleep in shifts, with Marius and Basil taking first watch.  As the sun sank behind the horizon, Thrisp thought he saw movement in the distance, shapes rising from the green, but then the mists of evening rolled in, obscuring sight in all directions.  Thrisp woke the others to tell them what he’d seen, but only Anwar seemed inclined to heed the warning and rouse himself.  Together, the three kept their vigil.

Approximately an hour later, though it may have been longer, time losing meaning in the mist-shrouded darkness, Anwar’s keen hearing picked up a sound coming from the gloom.  It sounded like footsteps…wet, sloshing, shambling footsteps.
“Wake up!” he shouted, blind panic overcoming him.  Quickly, he cast a spell, vanishing from sight.  At that moment, four hulking shapes materialized from out of the fog.  Their forms could not be made out, though they appeared bipedal, but seemed to be draped in seaweed.  In unison, each raised one arm, and as they did so, the weeds around the company began to writhe and twist.  One tendril wrapped itself completely around Samson, constricting tightly about him as it did so.  A second one struck Sepoto, and only the goliath’s great strength held it at bay, and kept it from choking him.  A third snared Basil, though the young mage wriggled, snake-like from its grip.
Marius, gaped in horror at the living vines, but recovered himself quickly, hurling a Fireball into the midst of two of the tendrils.  Sepoto couldn’t stand.  He was too busy trying to keep the vines off him, but he managed to snap his chain towards Samson, severing the weed holding the dragon shaman.  

Thrisp, following Anwar’s lead, wove his own invisibility spell.  Then silently, stealthily, he used the shadows to move himself a safe distance from the nightmare vines.  Anwar began to move as well, but as he did so, a tendril snaked around his leg, yanking him from his feet before climbing to encircle his torso.  He opened his mouth to shout for help, but then the vine was around his neck, squeezing, squeezing, until bright lights burst behind his eyes, and then everything grew dark.

As Samson struggled to his feet, one of the shadowy horrors in the mists raised its arm again, and once more the weeds at his feet came alive, constricting him again.  Quickly, the dragon shaman focused his mental energy, willing vigor and health into his limbs as well as those of his allies.  He struggled to remain conscious.  Unable to free his hands, he did the only thing he could…he breathed his acidic breath on the tendrils around him.  Sepoto continued to struggle with his own opponent, but then, to his dismay, he saw Marius become ensnared.  It was then that the four things in the fog began to move forward.  They appeared to be made completely of seaweed, though here and there tatters of old clothing could be seen.  As they came forward, they whispered over and over, “Outsiders.”

Basil was nearly frozen with terror.  Anwar and Thrisp had disappeared.  Marius and Samson were trapped, and Sepoto was fighting for his life.  Only he remained free.  Shaking himself from his panic, he concentrated, calling on his magic, and sent another ball of fire into the writhing mass of vines.  

Sepoto saw one of the shambling vine horrors approaching, thinking to finish him off while he was still prone.
“Think again!” the crusader snarled, and he summoned all his martial might, hammering at his foe with all the power at his disposal.  To his delight and surprise, the creature flew apart, and as it did so, one of the strangling weed vines collapsed, inert again.  
“Kill them!” he shouted to his friends.  “Destroy them, and the weeds will go as well!”

Samson heard the words of his friend, but they were the last thing he heard.  The vine still held him tightly in its grip, and it finally succeeded in cutting off his wind pipe.  He sank into the void.  Marius, on the other hand, managed to twist himself free.  He turned and saw that Basil had managed to put some distance between himself and the melee, but one of the vine horrors was already in pursuit.  The seeker wasn’t worried.  The wizard could handle himself.

Sepoto was still not free.  Again, and again the tendrils beat at him, and again and again he threw them back.  A second vine horror was approaching, but as it did, the goliath snaked his chain out and caught it around the legs, pulling it to the ground.  The respite was only temporary, however, as the creature slowly regained its feet.

Basil saw the creature approaching.  Quickly, he cast a spell of flight upon himself and rose into the air above it.  Then he flew back towards his fellows, another spell on his lips.  As he neared them, however, one of the tendrils shot towards him, reaching an incredible twenty feet to snare him and pull him from the sky.  He landed hard, the wind driven from his lungs, his spell lost.  He strained to push himself upright, but the vine wound tight around his throat, and he joined Anwar and Samson in oblivion.  

Marius cursed.  This wasn’t looking good at all.  Still, Sepoto had said to destroy the shamblers, and that was exactly what he intended to do.  The little gnome wove his magic, hurling a scorching ray of flames at the nearest horror, setting it alight like a pyre.  It collapsed under the barrage, and a second vine went limp.  Whirling, he sent another ray into one of the two remaining creatures.  This happened to be the same one Sepoto had tripped.  Now, as it reeled from the flames, the goliath tore its legs from beneath it again, and this time as it tried to rise, he buried his chain in its head, ripping it free from its body.  The vine horror dissolved, and with it went a third tendril.  Sepoto surged to his feet, striking at the last moving vine as he did so, snapping it in half.  

At that moment, Thrisp reappeared.  Clutching an empty flask in his hand, one he’d taken from the captain of the Purity’s Prow, he opened his mouth and spewed a gout of fire at the last vine creature.  As he did so, Marius launched another volley of fiery rays.  The thing was in flames, lurching this way and that.  As it staggered towards him, Thrisp breathed again, and the nightmarish creature dissolved in the flames.


----------



## Morrow

Nasty, very nasty.  Where was Thrisp through all this?  It appears that several rounds went by between going invisible and popping up again to use the elixir of fire breath.  Not that anyone could blame a beguiler for laying low when the plant monsters come to visit...  

So are Anwar, Samson, and Basil plant food, or will they pull through?

Morrow


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Great Update JD! All I can say is Sepoto Fights better when he is in nothing but a Loincloth  Everytime he went down He was loaded down with armor


----------



## Zaruthustran

Holy cow! This update covers a LOT of territory. How long did it take at the table to get through all of the above?

Also: I laughed out loud at "Fang XIII." Give us more Lugnut!

Also also: are those three dead-dead, or just KO'd?

-z


----------



## JollyDoc

Morrow said:
			
		

> Nasty, very nasty.  Where was Thrisp through all this?  It appears that several rounds went by between going invisible and popping up again to use the elixir of fire breath.  Not that anyone could blame a beguiler for laying low when the plant monsters come to visit...
> 
> Morrow




He was busy sneaking away to a safe distance.  The assassin vines had blindsight, so when Anwar tried to creep away invisibly, they saw him and got him with an AOO.  Thrisp, as a beguiler, can make a successful move silently, hide in shadows check and NO form of senses can detect him, not blindsight, not Scent...nada!  So, he moved to a safe distance, did a bit of buffing, then came back at the last moment for the kill.


----------



## JollyDoc

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Holy cow! This update covers a LOT of territory. How long did it take at the table to get through all of the above?
> 
> Also: I laughed out loud at "Fang XIII." Give us more Lugnut!
> 
> Also also: are those three dead-dead, or just KO'd?
> 
> -z




Believe it or not, we covered this in our usual play time.  We usually start somewhere around 4 pm on Sunday and try to finish up before 11.

Don't worry...Lugnut will be around for awhile I think.

Hmm...should I be cruel?  Nah.  Samson, Basil and Anwar all lived, but ony by the skin of their teeth, especially Basil.  When the Assassin Vine slammed him, grappled him and constricted him, he went exactly to zero hit points.  Then it constricted him again, leaving him somewhere in the neighborhood of -9 before he stabilized.  It was tense.  I certainly didn't want a TPK, but it was touch and go there for a little while.


----------



## Joachim

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> He was busy sneaking away to a safe distance.  The assassin vines had blindsight, so when Anwar tried to creep away invisibly, they saw him and got him with an AOO.  Thrisp, as a beguiler, can make a successful move silently, hide in shadows check and NO form of senses can detect him, not blindsight, not Scent...nada!  So, he moved to a safe distance, did a bit of buffing, then came back at the last moment for the kill.




Actually...it's the Darkstalker feat that lets me do this...Oh, and my Hide and Move Silently checks are disgusting.

I did cast haste on Sepoto and Samson, but I was basically having to move slowly all the time as each round I had to spend a move action moving silently and hiding, and with the difficult terrain each 5 foot step cost 20 feet of movement.

And, yes, Beguilers do not like plants.  Plants kind of suck.


----------



## Need_A_Life

Great update, as always!

Also, I just picked up the next episode of the adventure today, so I may just be able to keep up with you people   .


----------



## Schmoe

Spooky.  Journey's End has a great horror atmosphere.  Well, great if you're the DM or a reader   Man, if the little baby plant monsters did this to the Legion, what's mommy going to do?

I hope the Legion makes it to Farshore at least mostly intact.  I can't wait to see how Anwar's impersonation of Avner plays out.


----------



## Need_A_Life

Schmoe said:
			
		

> Spooky.  Journey's End has a great horror atmosphere.  Well, great if you're the DM or a reader   Man, if the little baby plant monsters did this to the Legion, what's mommy going to do?



Lay down and bleed to death, most likely...
I doubt they'd let themselves get caught in the same disadvantage twice in a row. Besides, having a Darkstalker means that they'll be able to get off at least one free attack/round.

I'm surprised that Anwar doesn't have that feat that allows him to use bardic music against plants (or the one that allows him to affect undead for that matter).



			
				Schmoe said:
			
		

> I hope the Legion makes it to Farshore at least mostly intact.  I can't wait to see how Anwar's impersonation of Avner plays out.



Seconded!
I wonder just how much he'll be able to scam out of his newly adopted uncle before JollyDoc tells him to cut it out   
Hey, a simple diplomacy check and the poor sucker will be licking our immoral bard's boots!


----------



## gfunk

Need_A_Life said:
			
		

> I doubt they'd let themselves get caught in the same disadvantage twice in a row.




Precisely, that which does not TPK us only serves to make us stronger.  After that battle, the cogs of strategy were already turning in my head and I'm sure in Joachim's and other party members.  Oh, we'll be ready for those green bastards next time . . .



> I'm surprised that Anwar doesn't have that feat that allows him to use bardic music against plants (or the one that allows him to affect undead for that matter).




@ First I thought you were joking but I couldn't find the punchline!  Anwar is already a sub-optimal build, I can't possibly imagine taking the Green Ear feat to compound this!  Why take a feat that only effects 0.0000001% of creatures you meet?  Age of Worms would have been a good opportunity to take the undead feat though.



> I wonder just how much he'll be able to scam out of his newly adopted uncle before JollyDoc tells him to cut it out   Hey, a simple diplomacy check and the poor sucker will be licking our immoral bard's boots!




Well, you are both assuming that Avner's Uncle actually likes him.  From Avner's behavior, that is a farily tenuous assumption


----------



## Morrow

Hey, how about stat blocks for the rest of the party?

Morrow


----------



## Schmoe

gfunk said:
			
		

> Well, you are both assuming that Avner's Uncle actually likes him.  From Avner's behavior, that is a farily tenuous assumption




Oh, I'm not.  Trust me, I'm not.  Hence the anticipation


----------



## Need_A_Life

Morrow said:
			
		

> Hey, how about stat blocks for the rest of the party?
> 
> Morrow



Hell, I'd settle for an update on Anwar, but I also want to see the others.



> Anwar is already a sub-optimal build, I can't possibly imagine taking the Green Ear feat to compound this!



 Why not? It would've made that fight a cakewalk... you could've told them to buzz off and then go destroy the core.
Then again, I'm just a person who prefers to have ONE mode of attack; if yours is a diplomacy check, then by all means use it.



> Well, you are both assuming that Avner's Uncle actually likes him. From Avner's behavior, that is a farily tenuous assumption



 Well, if he's rich he might just give him some gold to get him out of his hair...
Then again, he might send Ninjas of Doom(tm) to destroy that "pesky nephew"... though then you could take credit for his defeat and collect a reward (or blackmail the guy, whatever suits you best)


----------



## Hammerhead

Need_A_Life said:
			
		

> Why not? It would've made that fight a cakewalk... you could've told them to buzz off and then go destroy the core.
> Then again, I'm just a person who prefers to have ONE mode of attack; if yours is a diplomacy check, then by all means use it.




But Green Ear doesn't let you use diplomacy. It just means that your bardic music can affect plants, and they get a bonus on their saves. And in general, the only bardic music worth using buffs your friends, which Anwar *is* optimized for.


----------



## Need_A_Life

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> But Green Ear doesn't let you use diplomacy. It just means that your bardic music can affect plants, and they get a bonus on their saves. And in general, the only bardic music worth using buffs your friends, which Anwar *is* optimized for.



Yes, but he gets it from a racial substitution level... calm emotions by use of a diplomacy check, I believe it uses bardic music...


----------



## Quartz

Hey, JD, I don't know if you've been reading ahead, but

(players do not read!)



Spoiler



In a later adventure (I'm being deliberately vague, just in case) there's an opponent that will Plane Shift evil opponents to somewhere nasty. Now Anwar is apparently gunning for Disciple of Asmodeus or similar. I wonder if you're going to make this an opportunity rather than an insta-kill? Of course, Anwar might have to settle for being a Disciple of a Minor Devil in the Service of Asmodeus .


----------



## gfunk

*Sunday Night Update*

1. Remember this little gem that I posted previously?



> _After that battle, the cogs of strategy were already turning in my head and I'm sure in Joachim's and other party members. Oh, we'll be ready for those green bastards next time . . ._




Freakin' A man, freakin' A.  The Legion was fully prepped for battle, optimized for crushing plants, and had adequate intelligence for a masterful surgical strike.  The Mothership didn't stand a chance.  We were the proverbial weed whacker.

2. After helping ourselves to mom's treasure, the Legion finds that the Sargasso has inconveniently fallen apart, leaving them in the middle of miles and miles of open ocean.  Fortunately, one of us can breathe underwater and has a swim speed of 60 ft.

3. Land ho!!  Sadly, a storm rocks the hell out of the Sea Wyvern and a marauding Masher certainly doesn't help matters.  Unfortunately, a poor Balance check sends one of the PCs careening into the raging ocean.  He is followed shortly by the rest of the Legion after the Sea Wyvern basically falls apart.

4. We wake up, with the Legion more or less intact and three surviving members of the crew.  In short order, we are met by an Isle of Dread style welcoming committee.  Despite _greasing_ a fellow PC, we find (to our chagrin), that it just makes him slide down a certain gullet all that much easier . . .

5. Urol gives us the lowdown and we cannibalize all we can from the Sea Wyvern's wreckage.

6. Thrisp finally plunges fully into the abyss of the Shadow Weave, becoming wholly devoted to Shar and in the process becomes the third evil PC.  Sepoto on the other hand becomes an Eye of Savress and performs a well-needed act of goodness and humanity.  Anwar, seeing that he is currently lacking in female "companionship," works rapidly to correct the problem.

7. Of course, no update is complete without a Terror Bird ambush on the beach.


----------



## Schmoe

gfunk said:
			
		

> *Sunday Night Update*
> 
> 1. Remember this little gem that I posted previously?
> 
> [/i]
> Freakin' A man, freakin' A.  The Legion was fully prepped for battle, optimized for crushing plants, and had adequate intelligence for a masterful surgical strike.  The Mothership didn't stand a chance.  We were the proverbial weed whacker.




Cool.  I'll be taking notes 



> 4. We wake up, with the Legion more or less intact and three surviving members of the crew.  In short order, we are met by an Isle of Dread style welcoming committee.  Despite _greasing_ a fellow PC, we find (to our chagrin), that it just makes him slide down a certain gullet all that much easier . . .




The Isle of Dread - Feeding Pre-Historic Reptiles Since 1981


----------



## Need_A_Life

gfunk said:
			
		

> *Sunday Night Update*
> 
> 1. Remember this little gem that I posted previously?
> 
> [/i]
> Freakin' A man, freakin' A.  The Legion was fully prepped for battle, optimized for crushing plants, and had adequate intelligence for a masterful surgical strike.  The Mothership didn't stand a chance.  We were the proverbial weed whacker.



Wohoo!
Knew this was going to happen!



> 2. After helping ourselves to mom's treasure, the Legion finds that the Sargasso has inconveniently fallen apart, leaving them in the middle of miles and miles of open ocean.  Fortunately, one of us can breathe underwater and has a swim speed of 60 ft.



Okay, seems I should pay more attention as I drew a blank on this one.



> 3. Land ho!!  Sadly, a storm rocks the hell out of the Sea Wyvern and a marauding Masher certainly doesn't help matters.  Unfortunately, a poor Balance check sends one of the PCs careening into the raging ocean.  He is followed shortly by the rest of the Legion after the Sea Wyvern basically falls apart.



Looking forward to reading that tale.



> 4. We wake up, with the Legion more or less intact and three surviving members of the crew.  In short order, we are met by an Isle of Dread style welcoming committee.  Despite _greasing_ a fellow PC, we find (to our chagrin), that it just makes him slide down a certain gullet all that much easier . . .



Why would you grease a member of your group? *shudders*



> 5. Urol gives us the lowdown and we cannibalize all we can from the Sea Wyvern's wreckage.



Adventuring parties: murderous scavengers and selfstyled mercenaries.



> 6. Thrisp finally plunges fully into the abyss of the Shadow Weave, becoming wholly devoted to Shar and in the process becomes the third evil PC.  Sepoto on the other hand becomes an Eye of Savress and performs a well-needed act of goodness and humanity.  Anwar, seeing that he is currently lacking in female "companionship," works rapidly to correct the problem.



 Ooooh, shiney...
Sounds great!



> 7. Of course, no update is complete without a Terror Bird ambush on the beach.



Hate those bastards... my DM once sprung an encounter with 10 of the damned things... and seemed surprised when we had to retreat!


----------



## Tony Vargas

Need_A_Life said:
			
		

> Why would you grease a member of your group? *shudders*



The Grease spell gives the subject a bonus to checks to escape a grapple.  Sounds like someone got Improved Grabbed by a monster, failed his check to escape in spite of the grease, and got swallowed whole...


----------



## JollyDoc

Tony Vargas said:
			
		

> The Grease spell gives the subject a bonus to checks to escape a grapple.  Sounds like someone got Improved Grabbed by a monster, failed his check to escape in spite of the grease, and got swallowed whole...




This is what happens when you have a monster with a grapple check of +30 vs a small individual (did I give too much away?) who, even with Grease, only has +12 grapple.  Oops!!


----------



## Tony Vargas

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> This is what happens when you have a monster with a grapple check of +30 vs a small individual (did I give too much away?) who, even with Grease, only has +12 grapple.  Oops!!



So, was the critter using it's Improved Grab with just the natural weapon involved (taking the -20) or a full grapple (with attendant loss of DEX bonus and threatened squares vs the rest of the party)?


----------



## JollyDoc

Tony Vargas said:
			
		

> So, was the critter using it's Improved Grab with just the natural weapon involved (taking the -20) or a full grapple (with attendant loss of DEX bonus and threatened squares vs the rest of the party)?




Full on grapple, baby!!  My monster's never do it half-assed!!


----------



## Richard Rawen

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Full on grapple, baby!!  My monster's never do it half-assed!!




As it should be, any player that sits at my table knows that the monsters are not there for there entertainment... 
Some of the monsters figure the PC's are _their_ entertainment, but that's different =-)

Finally had a bit to dive into this one, been having a lot of fun rooting for the ... not-so-bad-guys?  
not-as-bad-as-the-other-guys?  

Legion!


----------



## Tony Vargas

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Full on grapple, baby!!  My monster's never do it half-assed!!



Heh.  Does the Legion even have someone with sneak attack?   I personally think that a lot of the insane grapplebeasts in the MM are pegged at the CR they have with the -20 in mind.  But, with a typical party composition, the frontliner getting grappled without the -20 still isn't a disaster - it sucks for the guy grabbed, but the monster can get beaten down pretty quick between it's inability to attack the rest of the party, and it's vulnerability to sneak attacks.  

Of course, grappling undead/plants/constructs are another matter...


----------



## JollyDoc

Tony Vargas said:
			
		

> But, with a typical party composition, the frontliner getting grappled without the -20 still isn't a disaster - it sucks for the guy grabbed, but the monster can get beaten down pretty quick between it's inability to attack the rest of the party, and it's vulnerability to sneak attack





Unless the monster does something silly...like swallow you whole....Yummmm


----------



## Leinart

So yeah im addicted whens the next update.


----------



## JollyDoc

LOST

As the sun rose over Journey’s End, the mists burned away and the sargasso’s restless children returned to their mother.  The Legionnaires continued their trek across the seemingly endless mire for several more hours, until at last they saw a change in the landscape.  Some distance ahead, tall shapes stretched towards the sky in twisted caricatures of trees.  As they drew closer, they saw that these were actually massive stalks of kelp, which formed a small forest at what they assumed was the heart of the sargasso.  Each of them began hearing a woman’s voice whispering in their heads, not uttering words, but calling to them just the same.  Just before they stepped into the kelp grove, Anwar happened to glance behind him where, to his horror, it seemed as if the entire plain was coming to life, birthing a veritable army of the vine creatures.  

Once inside, all sound was muffled, even their own breathing.  The kelp brushed against them, wet and oozing.  Before long, the forest opened into a small clearing.  There lay one final wreck; this one so buried in the weed, that its deck stood a mere five-feet above the mat of vegetation.  A plaque on the side of the caravel proclaimed it the Thunderer.  

The members of the Legion had learned hard lessons from their encounter with the sargasso’s children the previous night.  Anwar, Marius and Basil were each imbued with flight magic, and took to the air, positioning themselves some twenty-five feet above the ship’s deck.  Sepoto and Samson remained at the edge of the clearing while Thrisp cloaked himself in invisibility and silence, and cautiously crept aboard the vessel.  The skeletal remains of the original crew slumped about the ruined deck, their soggy bones mingled with broken chests, weapons and rigging.  Nothing responded to the beguiler’s presence, and so he gave the prearranged signal, the disembodied sound of a harp, to indicate that it was safe for the crusader and the dragon shaman to join him.

Once more signaling his companions to wait, the little gnome made his way stealthily down the main stairs to the crew’s quarters below.  The wreckage and destruction there was just as complete as the deck above, save that almost every surface was covered in the omnipresent weed.  Sepoto and Samson followed the gnome down after he gave the all-clear again.  However, no sooner had the pair stepped off the gangway, than the plants on the walls began to shiver and flail, soon coalescing into a trio of vine horrors.  Before the surprised warriors could react, the creatures had already begun to animate the vines around them.  This time, however, the goliath and the goblin were not caught napping.  Sepoto immediately went on the offensive, slashing at the nearest clump of reaching weeds.

Still hovering above the main deck, Anwar, Basil and Marius peered down the open hatch into the crew quarters below.  There they saw the animate plants attacking their comrades.  Anwar immediately raised his voice in song, spurring on his companions.  Marius took a more direct approach, lobbing a flaming orb of fire down the hatch.  The vine Sepoto struggled against suddenly went up in cloying smoke and ash.  

Below, Samson unleashed his draconic breath on the nearest of the shambling vine horrors, as well as engulfing another patch of the strangling weed.  To his dismay, however, the creature awakened a new clump just beneath the one destroyed by Marius.  Simultaneously, the other pair of horrors moved in, flanking the little goblin.  One of them raised one weed-covered arm and hammered at Samson, wrenching his shoulder painfully.  Fortunately, Sepoto was only a step away.  Moving closer to his friend, he brought his chain to bear with wicked efficiency, ripping great clots of vegetation from the nearest monster.  Samson, too, hacked at the thing, until finally it collapsed.  Whirling, the dragon shaman struck the second beast just as Marius and Basil levied a combined aerial bombardment of fire and arcane energy.  The vine horror crumpled.  Only one remained, and with both Sepoto and Samson arrayed against it, it soon returned to its vegetative state.

The remainder of the crew deck was deserted, and Thrisp had no choice but to descend to the hold.  At this point, Anwar, Basil and Marius were forced to descend as well, for they would not be able maintain visual contact with their companions.  Basil and Marius joined Thrisp, both rendering themselves invisible like the beguiler, as they descended into the darkness below.  The first thing the trio noted when they reached the hold, was that a huge section of the hull had rotted away near the stern, leaving a stinking pit with walls of writhing, green and brown vegetation.  The walls moved with horrible, half-formed life, semi-human shapes twisting and spasming from thick, tumescent stalks like anthropomorphic fruit ready for harvest.  The pit dropped away into a noisome, unseen depth, certainly far deeper than sea level, into an unknowable hell below.  Thrisp and Marius were horrified by what they were seeing, but Basil was able to tear his eyes away long enough to see that they were not alone.  Three more of the vine horrors hid within the weed shrouded walls, but for the moment, they had not seemed to notice the arcanists.  Basil quickly warned his companions, his words not traveling beyond Thrisp’s Zone of Silence to betray their presence.  Quietly, the three retreated back up the stairs to warn the others.

“I think we’ve found what we’re looking for,” Thrisp said.  “If this is not the heart of the sargasso, the dark mother, then I don’t know what is.”
“What’s our plan, then?” Samson asked.  
“As easily as you dealt with your first three opponents,” Anwar said, “I have no doubt of your ability to handle this challenge.  I shall await you here, but should you need me, just call out.”
Sepoto’s expression was sour.  He knew that would be a wasted effort.
“I will go back down,” Thrisp said, still unseen.  “Marius will be with me, but Samson and Sepoto will go ahead of us.  Then, while the vine horrors are occupied with them, we will wait for whatever rises from that pit.”

Once again, Thrisp descended into the stinking hold, Marius at his side, while the goblin and goliath strode boldly ahead, heedless of the noise they made.  As expected, the three plant creatures erupted from their concealment, but Samson was prepared.  His mouth yawned as his hot, acidic breath bathed the nearest pair.  Working in perfectly timed precision, Sepoto hammered at one of the same duo, while Marius simultaneously released a sheet of flames from his fingertips.  Just like that, the first of the vine horrors went down.  The second one was still reeling from the barrage, when Samson took after it with his morningstar.  By this time, the last of the horrors had extricated itself from the wall, and at its mental command, the weeds around the heroes came alive.  Suddenly, a horrible noise filled the hold, a cacophony of wailing like the cries of a hundred starving babes.  Then, the shadows within the great maw began to coalesce into something truly monstrous and horrid.  It appeared as a dislocated sack of foul smelling vegetation, wreathed in screaming, humanoid forms that struggled to free themselves from its putrid flesh.  A vast, distended belly bathed in viscous, green mucus hung from the vaguely humanoid form.  The infantile cries echoed from the hideous passengers that slowly pulled themselves from their mother.  Twenty feet tall, the grotesque hybrid of woman and plant was a nightmare of mucoid arms and clustered eyes.  It was a deviant thing of rot, a pyramidical bulk that rose to a head of eyes and barbed, thorny teeth.  The Mother of All had awakened.

“Not so fast,” Thrisp hissed as the behemoth loomed over Sepoto.  Arcane words formed on the beguiler’s lips, and to his immense relief, he saw the plant woman’s movements suddenly become sluggish and slow.  
“She’s all yours!” he cried to the goliath.  
“And yours, Marius!”  Basil shouted from behind the gnome, as he completed his own spell.  “I’ve made her vulnerable to fire!  Unleash Hell!!”
Sepoto rushed forward, closing the distance between himself and the Mother.  Marius began the words to his spell, prepared to loose a veritable firestorm, but the dreadful wailing of the fetal vine horrors pierced his skull like a nail, and he found himself stumbling over his phrases.  In a matter of moments, his incantation was ruined.

Meanwhile, Samson kept his attention on the opponent at hand.  He knew that the best way for him to help Sepoto was to keep the mature vine horrors off the goliath’s flank.  Striking again and again at the wounded thing before him, he was relieved to see it collapse in a filthy heap.  

The sargasso Mother howled her fury, and she began to lumber forward from her pit.  In an instant, Thrisp cast again, this time using his magic to literally root the monster’s legs to the floor.  It was only temporary, but it gave Sepoto a moment’s breathing room.  But only a moment, as the towering creature swung one of her massive arms like a tree trunk, battering the crusader mercilessly.  Basil cursed from the stairs as he saw Marius shaking his head, trying to drown out the incessant mewling.  
“Never send a goblin to do a tiefling’s job,” he muttered, then hurled his own magic, causing a ball of fire to erupt behind the Mother, engulfing her flank.  She shrieked, but directed her fury at Sepoto, hammering him a second time.  Sepoto went to one knee.  She raised her arm high above him, but two explosions ignited around her head, Marius’ magic joining Basil’s.  In an instant, the Mother began to collapse in on herself, a writhing mass of rotting vegetation, howling and shrieking until finally, she lay still.  A moment later, the remaining vine horror facing Samson similarly imploded.  On the deck above, Anwar saw the kelp forest come crashing down, and the sea of vine horrors beyond it melt into sludge.  The entire sargasso shuddered.  Back in the hold, the maw began filling with sea water, slowly eroding on itself.  

Thrisp knew with a certainty what was going to happen next.  The sargasso would unravel, losing its cohesion without the hive mind to maintain it.  While this was the goal they’d hoped to accomplish, they had forgotten one very important detail:  they were in the middle of the ocean!  Quickly the party hurried to the main deck, only to see the once-solid mass of seaweed beginning to fill with pools of sea water.  The Sea Wyvern was miles away.  Even if all of the Legionnaires were imbued with the power of flight, the spell would not last long enough to get them back.  Even as this realization sank in, the Thunderer began to fall apart.  In a matter of minutes, each of the heroes found themselves clinging to the debris, bobbing helplessly in the open sea as the sargasso continued to recede.  Only Anwar remained dry, still hovering above them all.
“Tsk, tsk,” he said, smiling and shaking his head.  “Quite the dilemma, eh?”  
“What are you laughing at, you fop?” Sepoto growled.  “You’ll be down here with us soon.”
“Oh, you’re absolutely right!” the bard replied, cheerfully.  “And there’s no place that I’d rather be!”  With that, he slid his arms into a pair of sleeves sewn inside his cloak.  As he did so, he dove towards the water, his body twisting and morphing as he struck the surface.  When he reappeared, it was not Anwar the half-elven that his companions saw, but a full-grown manta ray!  
“You see?” the manta said, speaking in a watery version of Anwar’s voice.  “Always be prepared!   Now, you sad sacks stay put, and don’t wander.  Uncle Anwar will be back before you can say tuna!”  With that, the ray disappeared beneath the waves again.

Four hours later, the beleaguered adventurers saw the sail appear on the horizon.  As it drew nearer, the familiar shape of a wyvern on its prow brought a shout of joy from all of them.  The Sea Wyvern had found them, and Anwar stood upon the bow.
“I’m the King of the World!” he shouted.
________________________________________________________

Interlude:

With the exhaustion from the day, every member of the Legion slept fitfully that night.  All save one.  Thrisp spent most of the night, staring at the ceiling of the cabin that he and Anwar shared.  The young gnome spent the majority of the night musing on his last conversation with Lucius before leaving Tashluta.

“Thrisp, you are fast approaching a fork in the road.   The path that you choose will forever determine the progression of your magical skills.  Down one path, the one taken by those not willing to totally give themselves to the Lady of Loss, you will still know great arcane power.  It is down the other path, the one taken only by those beloved of Shar, where you will truly learn the power of Her Shadow Weave.  You don’t need to tell me now which path you are going to choose right at this moment…truly our Mistress already knows the answer to that question.  But you must know this, Shar expects some form of payment for this great boon that she would extend to you.”

When Thrisp inquired as to the type of payment, he already knew the answer before Lucius spoke.  With a smile promising malice, the Sharran cleric said the words the gnome had anticipated:  “Sacrifice.  Shar demands payment in blood.  And not from something as pedestrian as some peasant you see on the side of the road.  Someone more…consequential…than that.”  To this point, Lucius had made sure to keep the gnome’s hands clean of any unnecessary blood, all to keep his seat on the Dawn Council safe from scrutiny.  This most definitely was a change in policy, but Thrisp was already experienced with the power associated with the Shadow Weave…Thrisp’s soul seemed to be a small price to pay for access to its deepest secrets.

By midnight, Shar’s witching hour, Thrisp’s decision had been made.  He rolled over, closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
________________________________________________________________

As the sun dawned on the Sea Wyvern’s fifth day of freedom from Journey’s End, the day was overcast and grim.  Yet despite that, the mood aboard the caravel was positively festive, for Thrisp had spotted land!  The ragged, jungle-choked peaks of the Isle of Dread loomed on the horizon off the starboard bow.  Though still miles away, just the sight of it brought a cheer from the crew and passengers.  They had reached their goal.  All that remained was to sail down its eastern coast to Farshore.

Alas, as the day wore on, it became increasingly obvious that the weather gods plotted against them, and by mid-afternoon, another storm raged in full force.  This one was much more powerful, however, than the first the expedition had encountered, bordering on a hurricane.  Four hours passed as the storm raged, and Amella fought madly to keep the ship on course.  Samson and Sepoto remained on deck with the crew, lending their strength to the battle against the sea.  The other passengers and Legionnaires secured themselves below deck.  Just after sunset, however, a tremendous lurch struck the Sea Wyvern, and the sound of splintering wood filled the air.  The ship came to a sudden stop, sending all aboard sprawling to the deck, and several unfortunate sailors in the rigging plunging into the sea below.  The caravel listed perilously to port, and waves crashed relentlessly against it.  It was obvious that the Sea Wyvern had run aground.

Sepoto rushed down the tilted deck to the bow rail, and peered over the side.  He could see that what they had struck was a large reef.  The ship was about half-way over it.  Samson opened the hatch to the gangway below decks, and called down for a damage report.  Basil rushed up the stairs, shouting that they were taking on water.  Suddenly, the sea below Sepoto exploded upward as a large creature breeched.  It appeared to be some sort of worm-like fish, easily thirty feet from tip to tail.  Its face was a terrible circular maw of grinding teeth, with two beady eyes peering out from the crown of its head.  Large spines rose from its sinuous back, shuddering and rattling with menace.
“It’s a masher!” Amella called from the quarterdeck, where she wrestled with the wheel, struggling to rock the boat free.  “It’ll wreck us fer sure!”
“Not if I can help it,” Sepoto growled.  But even as he spoke, the masher struck, raking his chest with its spike-like teeth.  The goliath reeled back, but counterattacked as he fell.  In an instant, Samson was beside him, adding his acid breath to the crusader’s brute strength.  Sepoto was still struggling to regain his footing on the canted deck when magic exploded all about the creature.  A vivid spray of colored light spilled from the porthole beneath the foc’s’le where Thrisp had holed up for the storm, causing the masher to loll drunkenly to one side.  Then, twin Fireballs exploded as Marius joined Basil on deck.  Its head a smoking ruin, the monster fish collapsed back into the sea.

At that moment, Amella wrenched the wheel hard to starboard, and the Sea Wyvern slipped free from the reef.  Immediately, the storm snatched the damaged ship again, turning it directly into an oncoming swell.  A powerful rush of surf washed across the deck, sweeping over all those in its wake.  Sepoto, still standing atop the foc’s’le, lost his footing and was swept from his feet.  As he slid across the deck, he grabbed desperately for the railing, but the violent motion of the vessel ripped his fingers free, and he was carried overboard into the dark, roiling water.  No one witnessed the goliath’s plight, struggling as they were to keep themselves on deck.  The storm continued, and caught by its fury, the Sea Wyvern was driven inexorably towards the north shore of the island.  The primeval vista loomed before them, periodically lit by flashes of lightning.  Suddenly, the ship lurched again, throwing everyone to the deck.  It tilted crazily to one side, lurched again, and then rolled completely.  The cold, dark sea rushed up to meet them, and in a cacophonous roar of wave and ruin, all went dark…

Darkness.  Pain.  Cold.  Thrisp was acutely aware of all three sensations as he clawed his way through the rough brine.  Almost fortuitously, Thrisp felt his hand find purchase on something hard.  Sharp, yes, but something solid.  A reef or rock of some sort.  The gnome was still deep underwater, but before the boat had grounded itself he had the wherewithal to don one of his alchemical breathing masks that he had purchased before leaving Tashluta.  Holding on for dear life with one hand, Thrisp quickly spoke the words to one of his spells.  Using his magic, he quickly clambered up the reef like a spider until he emerged at the surface.  Once there, all Thrisp could hear was the storm, the crashing waves…and a woman’s frantic calls for help!

Not twenty feet away, Thrisp saw Lirith Veldirose clinging to the same reef with all of her strength, screaming out in pain and desperation.  Even from this distance, it was apparent that the stiff currents has smashed the woman into the reef and broken her leg.  There was no way that she was going to make it to shore in that condition without his help.

“Thank Selune’s grace!  Thrisp, help me!  I’m hurt badly and I am afraid if I move from this spot I’ll drown.”  Quickly, Thrisp crawled along the side of the reef to Lirith’s side, thanks to his spider climb.

This is it.

Thrisp yelled over the crashing surf.  “I am not strong enough to carry you!  I do have an idea, though!  I have one remaining fly spell available to me.  I can give it to you, and regardless of your condition you will be able to make it to shore.  I am light enough that you should be able to carry me, too.”

Good story.  You can’t even cast ‘fly’.

Lirith nodded, a look of hope in her eyes.  “That would be great!  I always did like you, Thrisp.”

And I always liked you, too, Lirith.  This would be so much easier to stomach if it were personal.  I guess this makes it twice on this journey that you have chosen your men poorly.

“Now hold still, and don’t resist my magic.”  Lirith nodded again.

Goodbye, Lirith.

Thrisp began casting his spell.  When he had completed the last word, the gnome feigned an attempt to touch Lirith, but at the last second turned his hand and pointed at the rogue.  Instead of taking to the air, Lirith found all of her muscles and joints freeze into place.  Even her breathing, before fast and labored, became slow and reflexive.  Thrisp knew that if Lirith were capable of changing her facial expression, it would be one of horror.

Methodically, the gnome removed the rigid woman from the reef.  Pressing on her forehead with his small hand, Thrisp held Lirith underwater until her tight muscles relaxed…when her brain died, he knew that his hold person effect would end.  Thrisp released the corpse, and it floated away from the reef.

Simultaneously Thrisp was overcome with two emotions, the first of which was joy in knowing that he had done Shar’s will and would be granted new power as Her servant.  The second emotion was that of grief…grief over the monster that he had become.
_________________________________________________________

Dawn.  The air was still, and cloyingly hot and humid.  Damp sand clung to every available surface.  Sepoto pulled himself slowly back to consciousness, surveying his surroundings in confusion.  The last thing he remembered was the sea pulling him under, then nothing.  Now, as he gazed around blearily, he found himself on a desolate stretch of beach, with a wall of jungle looming less than a hundred feet away.  Wreckage and debris was scattered across the sand, along with several bodies.  Some of these were moving, and the goliath was immediately relieved to see all of his comrades among the living.  Amella had survived as well, as had Urol and Tavey Nesk…but that was all.  The others, the entire crew, Lirith, even Avner’s servants…all were dead.

Gradually, the survivors regained their senses and drifted together, their expressions a mixture of fear, confusion, anxiety and wonder.  It was Anwar, of course, who spoke first:  “So, does anyone know exactly where we are?”
Urol, who had been the only one of their small band to actually show any signs of enthusiasm at their situation, quickly piped up.  “Well, if I had to guess, I’d say we’re somewhere on the northeast shore of the island.  Probably about a hundred miles or more from Tanaroa, the nearest Maztican village.”
“Fantastic,” Marius said, sarcastically.  “Fine bit of piloting there, Captain.”
Amella had been silent since she’d regained consciousness, her face a mask of misery.  Ordinarily, a jibe such as the one the Seeker had just made would draw her full wrath.  Instead, she covered her face and turned away.  Anwar scowled at the mage, and put an arm around the woman’s shoulders in comfort.
“We wouldn’t even be alive, if not for Amella,” he said.  “We would all do well to remember that.”
Marius looked at him skeptically, wondering what angle the bard was playing this time.  Urol, meanwhile, had picked up a stick, and was busy sketching a rough map of the island in the sand.  When he’d finished, he stood and pointed.  “You see.  We’re right here.  I believe if we head…”  His words were abruptly cut off by an earsplitting roar that tore through the heavy, morning air.  Lumbering out of the jungle was a towering, reptilian predator, with an enormous head and a mouth full of dagger-sized teeth.  It stood on two powerful legs, and had only vestigial forelimbs.  With another deafening roar, it started towards them.

“Tyrannosaur!”  Urol shrieked, and darted towards the wreckage behind them, seeking what meager shelter there was.  
“Follow him!”  Sepoto commanded Amella and Tavey, as he moved towards the charging lizard.
“But you’re hurt!”  Tavey protested.  A sharp look from the goliath convinced him, however, but no before he plucked a healing draught from his gear and laid it in the sand near Sepoto.  The thundering beast came on, but as it did, Marius dropped a Fireball right in its path.  The monster never slowed.  To Sepoto’s astonishment, and horror, Samson had gotten in front of him while he was distracted by Tavey.  The goblin dragon shaman spewed his breath at the Tyrannosaur, but he might as well have been spitting into a cyclone.  The creature snapped him up in its great jaws, and blood gushed from Samson’s mouth.  
“Help him!” Sepoto shouted, and then began chanting a prayer over his chain.  As he did so, Basil opened fire, sending two rays of flame from his hands towards the dinosaur.  The lizard roared, but did not release its prey.  A second Fireball from Marius blistered its hide more, but the relentless hunter refused to fall.  Even when Sepoto struck, his spell causing his weapon to tear even deeper than normal into the Tyrannosaur’s flesh, the great reptile refused to drop Samson.
“On my word!”  Anwar shouted to the dragon shaman, and then the bard began casting in a sing-song chant.  As he finished, a layer of oily grease completely coated the goblin’s armor.  “Now!” Anwar called.  Samson, though in agony, began wriggling and twisting, struggling to free himself.  It was no use.  The dinosaur threw back its head, and with an audible gulp, swallowed the goblin whole.

“Bastard!” Basil cried, and loosed a second pair of scorching rays.  Thrisp joined him, adding a scintillating spray of colors to the mix.  The T-rex stumbled, and Sepoto was on it, slashing and tearing with his chain like a creature possessed.  Even Anwar joined in the melee, knocking his bow and firing a lucky shot into the creature’s flank.  Still, it was Marius, copying Basil’s tactic, who brought the beast down, burning both its eyes from its skull with his fire.  As the animal collapsed to the sand, its jaws went slack, and a moment later a gore-covered Samson crawled to freedom.
____________________________________________________________

In the aftermath of the T-rex attack, Anwar assigned Amella and Tavey the task of salvaging anything they could from the wreckage on the beach, in order to distract them from their dilemma.  Urol continued his map work, plotting their course to the southern peninsula.  Meanwhile, Anwar and Samson swam out to the shattered Sea Wyvern to see what could be recovered.  By the time they returned, Urol called for everyone to gather round while he explained his plan.  
“I propose to take us through these small mountains to the south,” he said, indicating the route on the map.  “Then we’ll travel along the bay toward Tanaroa.  This excursion, while scenic, will be quick and safe.  I estimate we can make the peninsula in no more than ten days, barring no unforeseen circumstances.”
“What about provisions?”  Anwar asked.  “Samson and I found some salvageable foodstuffs aboard the ship, as well as several healing potions.”
“And we found food as well!”  Tavey piped up, grinning at Sepoto.  The goliath gave him an affectionate pat on the back.
“Yes, well,” Urol said thoughtfully, “my best guess would be that each of you big folk will need about ten pounds of food for the trip.  I and my diminutive kinsman will require only three pounds, while the boy could get by on five.”
“We have that and more,” Amella said, looking over the supplies they’d scavenged.
“With my skills as a naturalist,” Urol continued, “we could actually get by on about half that amount.  There’s plenty to eat from the local flora and fauna.”
“The food we have will suffice,” Anwar replied.  
Urol shrugged.  “In any event, it’s getting towards dusk now, and I don’t advise we begin our travels by night.  We could all use a good night’s rest, and start fresh in the morning.”
Anwar looked at Basil.  “I believe you were researching a new spell that might aid us in this.  Have you had any success?”
“As a matter of fact, I have,” the wizard nodded.  “Though it will only last about eight hours.  We’ll have to keep our usual watches until late this evening.”

The group made camp on the beach, near the waterline, well back from the jungle canopy.  Thrisp immediately rolled himself into his blankets near the fire, determined to get as much sleep as he could.  Anwar moved to sit near Amella, who still looked forlorn and empty.
“What I said was true, earlier,” he said.  “We couldn’t have survived without you.  This is not your fault.”
“Aye,” she said flatly.  “Try tellin’ th’crew that.”  She looked towards the mounds in the sand where they had buried their dead.
“Look” Anwar said, turning her chin until her eyes met his, “you were our leader for these past three months.  The passengers and crew looked to you for guidance.  My companions and I are seasoned adventurers, but Tavey and Urol are not.  We may well find other survivors on our trek.  After all, there was no sign of Avner’s body on the beach.  They need you to be strong.  You’ve survived much tragedy in your life.  You will bridge through this to the other side.  I have faith in you.”
The sea captain held his gaze for a moment, finally allowing herself a small smile as she looked away.
“Ye’re a charmer,” she said, “but we’ll see….we’ll see.”
Anwar was about to say more, but a frightened cry from Urol, followed by a curse from Sepoto brought him to his feet in an instant.  “What is it?” he shouted.
“In the tree line,” the goliath pointed.  “We’ve got incoming.”
The bard looked where Sepoto indicated, and saw four large creatures creeping from the shadows of the trees.  They appeared to be some species of flightless bird, though their cruelly hooked beaks and wickedly sharp talons marked them as predators.
“They’re terror birds!” Urol nearly shrieked.  “They’ve been drawn by the scent of the tyrannosaur carcass.  Curse me for a fool for not thinking about that!  We should have removed it!”
“Too late now,” Sepoto muttered, bracing himself as the birds surged towards them.

They were fast, and were among the survivors before they could react.  The foremost snapped at Sepoto, tearing a chunk out of the goliath’s arm.  A second one darted towards Samson, seizing the goblin in its beak, and lifting him off the ground.  The third one looped around Sepoto’s flank and snagged Tavey as the boy hid behind the goliath.  He screamed as blood spurted from his leg an the terror bird dragged him across the sand.
“Tavey!” Amella shouted, instantly in motion, drawing her rapier as she ran.  When she reached the animal, she plunged her blade through one of its eyes.  Samson, his arms pinned to his side, did the only thing he could.  He spat acid right in the face of the bird that held him.  Abruptly, twin explosions of fire erupted behind the birds, incinerating both the one that held Samson, and the one that had tried to make a meal of Sepoto.
“Amella, get back!”  Anwar cried, shoving the sailor behind him.  He held his own rapier tentatively in his hand, though his eyes were on Sepoto.  The goliath caught his look, rolled his eyes, and then charged forward.  As the terror bird dragged Tavey further away, the crusader closed the distance to it.  The bird shrieked at him, warning him away, but Sepoto was not so easily deterred.  He leaped, wrapping his chain around the terror bird’s neck, chanting a prayer as he did so.  The barbs from his weapon scythed through flesh and sinew, ripping the animal’s head from its body.  As its body continued to run about for a few seconds more, the goliath grabbed up Tavey and retreated back towards the fire.  The boy sobbed uncontrollably against his shoulder.  

The final bird hissed menacingly at the group as it backed slowly up the beach, knowing it wound not have its intended meal this night.  As it bent to take a bite from the dead t-rex, Marius invoked his magic.  Both the bird and the dinosaur corpse exploded in flames.
“Why don’t you have your meal well-done?” the warmage said humorlessly.

When Sepoto reached to others, he carefully laid Tavey on the sand.
“Here, let me tend him,” Anwar said, shouldering past the goliath.  The bard pulled a wand from his belt and began healing the lad’s wounds.  On the opposite side of the fire, Amella smiled warmly.  Sepoto watched it all, disgusted with the bard’s false bravado.  Sepoto was a priest, more than capable of tending to Tavey, but he could see that Anwar’s motives were much less benevolent.  Lavinia was missing, and if she was alive and safe at Farshore, she was still miles away.  It seemed that Anwar practiced the motto of “a bird in hand…”


----------



## Joachim

Here is the inaugural Thrisp Doogal character build:

*Thrisp Doogal CR 7*
Male lesser svirfneblin Beguiler 6 / Shadow Adept 1
NE Medium humanoid (gnome)
*Init +2*; *Senses* low-light vision; darkvision; Listen +2, Spot +0
*Languages* Common, Gnome, Abyssal, Infernal, Undercommon, Maztican
----------------------------------
*AC* 19, touch 14, flat-footed 16
(+2 Dex, +5 armor, +1 size, +1 dodge)
*hp* 40 (7 HD)
*Fort* +6, *Ref* +5, *Will* +8; +2 racial bonus against spells and spell-like effects
----------------------------------
*Speed* 30 ft. (6 squares)
*Ranged* Light Crossbow +6 (1d6) 
*Space* 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. 
*Base Atk* +3; Grp -2
*Combat Gear* 13 potion of _cure light wounds_, potion of _cure moderate wounds_, potion of _expeditious retreat_, potion of _cat's grace_, 4 scrolls of _silent image_, 4 scrolls of _open/close_

*Beguiler Spells* 
     3rd (5/day) Standard for beguiler
     2nd (7/day) Standard for beguiler
     1st (7/day) Standard for beguiler plus _net of shadows_ (Advanced Learning)
     0 (6/day) Standard for beguiler, minus _light_ and _dancing lights_ 
*Spell Like Abilities* (1/day)
_Resistance_, _Daze_, _Lullaby_, _Prestidigitation_, _Ghost Sound_, _Speak with Animals _ (burrowing mammals only)
----------------------------------
*Abilities* Str 8, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 19, Wis 10, Cha 14

*SQ* +1 to hit goblinoids and kobolds, +1 racial bonus to Illusion DC's, Stonecunning, +2 to Hide Checks, increases to +4 underground (+2 considered in stats below), trapfinding, Surprise Casting, Cloaked Casting (+1 to DC) 

*Feats* Academy Graduate (Diplomacy, Disable Device, and Use Magic Device) [Bonus District Feat], Darkstalker, Greater Spell Focus (Illusion), Insidious Magic, Pernicious Magic, Shadow Weave Magic, Silent Spell, Spell Focus (Illusion), Tenacious Magic
*Flaw* Noncombatant
*Trait* Quick

*Skills* Bluff +12, Concentration +17, Craft (Alchemy) +6, Diplomacy +14 (+16 in Tashluta), Disable Device +16, Hide +25, Knowledge (arcana) +12, Knowledge (history) +6, Knowledge (nobility) +6, Move Silently +18, Open Lock +5, Search +20, Spellcraft +15, Use Magic Device +5 (+7 for scrolls)

*Possessions* combat gear plus +1 _shadow_ mithril shirt with attached keel, headband of intellect+2, goggles of minute seeing, vest of resistance +1, boots of elvenkind, belt of steady spellcasting, masterwork tools (hide, move silently, and search), masterwork thieves' tools, spell component pouch, Spire of Tashluta (+2 to Diplomacy and Gather Information in Tashluta), Short Sword, swimming goggles, forestwarden's shroud, 3 Auran masks, Bat Idol key
----------------------------------
*Hook* "I could tell you the truth, or I could tell you a lie, and you wouldn't know the difference.  So...which would you prefer to hear today?"


----------



## JollyDoc

I like Thrisp's touch armor class of 114.  Impressive.


----------



## Joachim

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> I like Thrisp's touch armor class of 114.  Impressive.




Oops.  Fixed.


----------



## Hammerhead

What is an attached keel on Thrisp's armor? While I'm no sailor, keels go on the bottom of ships. The one thing I could guess is that it's some kind of fin on the back, so he looks like a shark when he swims. But that's kind of silly .


----------



## gfunk

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> But that's kind of silly .




That's what we thought too, but it's in the rules.


----------



## Supar

Basil Oreginald CR 7
Male lesser Teifling Wizard 3 / Master specialist 4
NE Medium outsider (Tiefling)
Init +3;  darkvision; Listen +2, Spot +2
Languages Common, Terran, Abyssal, Infernal, Draconic, Aquan
----------------------------------
AC 13, touch 13, flat-footed 10, With Magic 21
(+2 Dex, +5 armor, +1 size, +1 dodge)
hp 46 (7 HD)
Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +7; 
----------------------------------
Speed 30 ft. (6 squares)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. 
Base Atk +3; Grp 1
Combat Gear 1 potion of cure light wounds, 2 potion of cure moderate wounds, 2 scrolls of haste , wand of benign transposistion (16charges), wand of mage armor(9chargess)

Prohibited schools: necromancy and enchantment
Wizard Spells: 
(6)1st: Magic missle, Alarm, Protection from evil, Sheild, Grease, Identify, Benign Transposition
(5)2nd: Invis, Snowball Swarm, See invis, Mirror image, Arcane Lock, Balefull Transposition, Rope trick
(3)3rd:Fireball, Dispell Magic, fly Anticipate Teleportation, Haste, Arcane sight, Shadow Phase, Energyy vunerability
(2)4th: Dimension Door
Spell Like Abilities (1/day)Darkness
----------------------------------
Abilities Str 8, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 20, Wis 14, Cha 6
+2 to Bluff and Hide Checks, Resist fire 5 

Feats Scribe scroll, spell casting prodigy, child of shadows, combat focus, spell focus (abjuration), Greater spell focus (abjuration), Skill focus (Spellcraft), Spell penetration, Skill trick Knowledge (+5 to any skill check involving monsters useable once per encounter) 
Flaw Noncombatant

Skills  Concentration +18, Knowledge (arcana) +14, Knowledge (Geography) +14, Knowledge (Dungeoneering) +15, Knowledge (Planes) +15, Spellcraft +18
Possessions 
Headband of intellect +1, Tunic of steady spell casting


Did this in a hurry so excuse any typos or a missed somethin


----------



## gfunk

*Monday Morning Preview*

1. Continuing their merry foray into the Isle of Dread the party comes upon an "innocent" Diplodocus beset by mob of hungry Terror Birds.  Though Urol whines that we need to save the dinosaur, the Legion abides by its Prime Directive: "There is no such thing as innocence, only degrees of guilt."  Sadly, this leaves the Diplodocus slightly charred and Urol hopping mad.

2. Thanks to his recently acquired fluency in Mastichan, Thrisp negotiates our way through an Aranea stronghold (with appropriate musical accompaniment).

3. We finally come upon a local source of Terror Birds and cleanse it thoroughly.  Of course, this is not before the Alpha Terror Bird makes off with everybody's favorite PC snack.

4. A journey through the Dark Mountain Pass is filled with curious sounds that seem to have no obvious source.  We come upon some "golems" who refuse to animate despite poking and prodding.  Also we take it upon ourselves to clear out some of the Vermin who've accumulated over the years.

5. Entry into a Mastichan crypt = bad news for the Legion.  The dead don't mind if you talk to the them, but touching is strictly off limits.  Four of them animate and begin to lay the smack-down.  Sadly, my friends, we were not in the favor of the dice gods this evening.  Frozen with fear, three PCs await eventual coup-de-graces as the other PCs try to delay the inevitable.  Let me ask you this, would you want your life in the hands of evil characters?

Not everyone will walk away alive from this one.


----------



## Schmoe

gfunk said:
			
		

> *Monday Morning Preview*
> 
> 1. Continuing their merry foray into the Isle of Dread the party comes upon an "innocent" Diplodocus beset by mob of hungry Terror Birds.  Though Urol whines that we need to save the dinosaur, the Legion abides by its Prime Directive: "There is no such thing as innocence, only degrees of guilt."  Sadly, this leaves the Diplodocus slightly charred and Urol hopping mad.




Ha!  I wouldn't have expected anything else from the Legion.



> 3. We finally come upon a local source of Terror Birds and cleanse it thoroughly.  Of course, this is not before the Alpha Terror Bird makes off with everybody's favorite PC snack.




Hmm.  Am I reading this right?  Is it time for a new saying to be borne?

"Do not be a goblin, for they are crunchy and good with ketchup."



> 4. A journey through the Dark Mountain Pass is filled with curious sounds that seem to have no obvious source.  We come upon some "golems" who refuse to animate despite poking and prodding.  Also we take it upon ourselves to clear out some of the Vermin who've accumulated over the years.




Everyone knows there's no such thing as a non-golem statue.  Maybe these were just malfunctioning?  Hmm, I'd try harder.  There's got to be some sort of trigger somewhere!    



> 5. Entry into a Mastichan crypt = bad news for the Legion.  The dead don't mind if you talk to the them, but touching is strictly off limits.  Four of them animate and begin to lay the smack-down.  Sadly, my friends, we were not in the favor of the dice gods this evening.  Frozen with fear, three PCs await eventual coup-de-graces as the other PCs try to delay the inevitable.  Let me ask you this, would you want your life in the hands of evil characters?
> 
> Not everyone will walk away alive from this one.




Oooh, ouch.  Mummy gets mad if you've been bad.  Oh well - evil eats its own, and all that.

Thanks for the update.  I've been checking throughout the morning waiting to get my fix.  This looked to be the coolest adventure so far (IMO), so I can't wait to read more about it.


----------



## carborundum

Brilliant! As if I couldn't wait to read the next installment already, you have to come up with a teaser like that! 
(I'm also very curious about the whole coup-de-grace situation, that sounds like a DM's nightmare when there's such great role-playing and character development going on.)


----------



## Zaruthustran

Bravo! Well done to all, including the author. What a fun read, particularly the murder of Lilith and the seduction of the captain.

Reading Thrisp's sheet, I've got to ask: what's your angle? What's so good about Shadow magic? I don't own the Tome of Magic, so fill me in on the plan. 

Also: according to WotC's Feat Index, Insidious, Pernicious, and Tenacious magic all have the same description: "You can use the Shadow Weave to make your spells harder for Weave users to dispel." Isn't that a bit... overkill?

http://www.wizards.com/default.asp?x=dnd/lists/feats&tablefilter=pernicious magic
http://www.wizards.com/default.asp?x=dnd/lists/feats&tablefilter=Insidious
http://www.wizards.com/default.asp?x=dnd/lists/feats&tablefilter=tenacious

-z


----------



## Hammerhead

Shadow Magic isn't in the Tome of Magic...well, at least not the shadow magic that our favorite beguiler uses. The shadowcaster found in the Tome of Magic is weak as hell. I believe you'll find the 3.5 versions in the Player's Guide to Faerun. 

Insidious Magic makes any non-Shadow Magic user succeed on a caster level check before they learn anything about you or your spells with a diviniation spell. 
Pernicious Magic gives you a +4 bonus to beat SR of all non-Shadow Magic users.
Tenacious Magic gives +4 DC when targeted by a non-Shadow Magic dispel.

Shadow Magic, of course, increases your DCs and caster level vs. SR with enchantment by 1, illusion, and necromancy, and penalizes other schools by 1. The Shadow Adept gives the three above feats for free, and further increases your spellcasting power with enchantments, illusions, and necromancies.


----------



## Joachim

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Reading Thrisp's sheet, I've got to ask: what's your angle? What's so good about Shadow magic? I don't own the Tome of Magic, so fill me in on the plan.




What Hammerhead said is right...my final build is going to include all 5 levels of Shadowcraft Mage from Races of Stone.

I will, however, eventually be purchasing an item from the Tome of Magic, called the Collar of Umbral Metamorphosis (greater version).  Great stuff, there.


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Brilliant! As if I couldn't wait to read the next installment already, you have to come up with a teaser like that!
> (I'm also very curious about the whole coup-de-grace situation, that sounds like a DM's nightmare when there's such great role-playing and character development going on.)





Well it's obvious that it wasn't Thrisp who went down in a blaze of mummified glory, but after reading up on Joachim's ultimate evil plan for his character build, I may have to rid myself of him before his power grows beyond any of us!  It's for the greater good


----------



## javcs

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Well it's obvious that it wasn't Thrisp who went down in a blaze of mummified glory, but after reading up on Joachim's ultimate evil plan for his character build, I may have to rid myself of him before his power grows beyond any of us!  It's for the greater good



But think! If Thrisp dies, who knows what unholy monstrosity will spring forth seeking vengeance.


----------



## JollyDoc

javcs said:
			
		

> But think! If Thrisp dies, who knows what unholy monstrosity will spring forth seeking vengeance.





True enough.  Gfunk already threatened that if/when I kill Anwar, he'll bring in some horror who's backstory is that his spelljammer ship crash landed on the Isle of Dread.  Something was mentioned about plasma rifles....


----------



## javcs

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> True enough.  Gfunk already threatened that if/when I kill Anwar, he'll bring in some horror who's backstory is that his spelljammer ship crash landed on the Isle of Dread.  Something was mentioned about plasma rifles....



Now _that_ would be interesting. (How would he join the Legion? Hmm.)

It's one way to reduce the odds of specifically being targeted for out of game reasons.


----------



## carborundum

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> True enough.  Gfunk already threatened that if/when I kill Anwar, he'll bring in some horror who's backstory is that his spelljammer ship crash landed on the Isle of Dread.  Something was mentioned about plasma rifles....




No vortex grenades, then. Lucky you!

Speaking of spelljammer, I was at my parent's farm last week and found a box of my old RP stuff dumped in the barn, including the Spelljammer boxed set. Even all the cardstock ships and stands! I'm looking forward to reading it again. It certainly makes a great new PC intro mechanism!


----------



## Leinart

Well hopefully they can reincarnate samson gets (not sure if he is dead but something is bound to fully digest him eventually) bugbear or gnoll...might not be a chew toy then.


----------



## Groutknoll

I guess if Samson is to be reincarnated then the saying "reincarnation is great, you allways come back as a better race" would hopefully apply this time ...


----------



## JollyDoc

"There are fates worse than death." ----Sepoto


----------



## Supar

yah JD has a history of making that saying painfully obvious and less ominous


----------



## theredrobedwizard

Ya know, reading through this so far, I've yet to see anything that makes me go "Wow, that was *evil*" or "That's terrible".  

Maybe my robes are a bit too black for the rest of my order's tastes.  *shrug*

Good story so far.  My group is just about to set off for the Sea Wyvern's Wake.  Hopefully we don't lose as many PCs as you crazy kids have.

Or, at least, I hope I don't come back as a goblin. :S

-TRRW


----------



## JollyDoc

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> Ya know, reading through this so far, I've yet to see anything that makes me go "Wow, that was *evil*" or "That's terrible".
> 
> Maybe my robes are a bit too black for the rest of my order's tastes.  *shrug*
> 
> -TRRW




What???  Not evil??  Marius torching innocent bystanders?  The Legion directly responsible for the deaths of two Jade Ravens?  Skald given to evil cultists for a crime he didn't commit?  Avner sold into indentured servitude?  Lirith murdered in cold blood?  What's left?  Drowning kittens and stealing lollipops from babies?


----------



## gfunk

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Marius torching innocent bystanders?



Tactical necessity.



> The Legion directly responsible for the deaths of two Jade Ravens?



Survival of the fittest.



> Skald given to evil cultists for a crime he didn't commit?



As far as the Legion knows, Skald was handed over to legitimate authority figures.



> Avner sold into indentured servitude?



Well he really was "donated" into indentured servitude.



> Lirith murdered in cold blood?



Euthanasia -- I mean she was in a lot of pain at the time.


----------



## Joachim

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> Ya know, reading through this so far, I've yet to see anything that makes me go "Wow, that was *evil*" or "That's terrible".
> 
> Maybe my robes are a bit too black for the rest of my order's tastes.  *shrug*




It's like I've said this past Sunday, we are not Book-of-Vile-Darkness-Evil, we are really just more like Champions-of-Ruin-Evil.  We aren't into the whole murdering babies or raping our prisoners...at least not yet.


----------



## theredrobedwizard

These gents would fit in well with my group, as it seems that every time one of them does something "evil", I get the urge to pat them heartily on the back for a job well done.

Marius torching innocent bystanders?: No such animal.  They should've ran away faster.  Natural Selection at work.

The Legion directly responsible for the deaths of two Jade Ravens?: The only thing wrong with this is that there were still Jade Ravens alive.  I hate those guys.

Skald given to evil cultists for a crime he didn't commit?:  Ok, I admit, this might have been a bad choice, given that Skald seems useful.  Then again, they didn't know for sure that the people he was turned over to were cultists.

Avner sold into indentured servitude?: That mother-frakker deserves everything coming to him.  Besides, it's for the good of the company that he be sold, considering he considers the primative Masticans (or whatever) to be little more than property.  I guess a more proper punishment would've been public castration, then covering him in brown gravy mix and steak tips, then leaving him in a room with a Rabid Dire Pseudonatural Half-Fiendish Vampiric Werewolverine Frenzied Berserker on PCP as his only companion.  Oh the fun he'd have.  Then Reincarnate him, hopefully as something ugly and idiotic; like a Mongrelfolk or an Awakened potted plant.

Lirith murdered in cold blood?:  She was a skank.  Also, that's what she gets for trusting a Gnome.  See Natural Selection.

 What's left?:  No one's killed the obvious sources of annoyance yet, as Urol and the Jade Ravens are left breathing.

Drowning kittens and stealing lollipops from babies?:  Absolutely not.  Kittens are sacrosanct and are to never be harmed under any circumstance.  Failure to comply results in a one way trip to Getting-Flayed-Alive-Then-Buried-In-Salt-And-Glass-Shards Avenue.  Lollipops are fair game to be stolen, so long as the baby is fat.  Fat babies need less candy.  See Natural Selection.

-TRRW


----------



## Joachim

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> These gents would fit in well with my group, as it seems that every time one of them does something "evil", I get the urge to pat them heartily on the back for a job well done.
> 
> Marius torching innocent bystanders?: No such animal.  They should've ran away faster.  Natural Selection at work.
> 
> The Legion directly responsible for the deaths of two Jade Ravens?: The only thing wrong with this is that there were still Jade Ravens alive.  I hate those guys.
> 
> Skald given to evil cultists for a crime he didn't commit?:  Ok, I admit, this might have been a bad choice, given that Skald seems useful.  Then again, they didn't know for sure that the people he was turned over to were cultists.
> 
> Avner sold into indentured servitude?: That mother-frakker deserves everything coming to him.  Besides, it's for the good of the company that he be sold, considering he considers the primative Masticans (or whatever) to be little more than property.  I guess a more proper punishment would've been public castration, then covering him in brown gravy mix and steak tips, then leaving him in a room with a Rabid Dire Pseudonatural Half-Fiendish Vampiric Werewolverine Frenzied Berserker on PCP as his only companion.  Oh the fun he'd have.  Then Reincarnate him, hopefully as something ugly and idiotic; like a Mongrelfolk or an Awakened potted plant.
> 
> Lirith murdered in cold blood?:  She was a skank.  Also, that's what she gets for trusting a Gnome.  See Natural Selection.
> 
> What's left?:  No one's killed the obvious sources of annoyance yet, as Urol and the Jade Ravens are left breathing.
> 
> Drowning kittens and stealing lollipops from babies?:  Absolutely not.  Kittens are sacrosanct and are to never be harmed under any circumstance.  Failure to comply results in a one way trip to Getting-Flayed-Alive-Then-Buried-In-Salt-And-Glass-Shards Avenue.  Lollipops are fair game to be stolen, so long as the baby is fat.  Fat babies need less candy.  See Natural Selection.
> 
> -TRRW




I like you.  Thank you for joining the conversation and making me giggle, like a little girl.


----------



## JollyDoc

HERE THERE BE MONSTERS

Urol took the lead the following morning, explaining to the group that he planned to take them inland through the jungle in hopes of making the foothills of the mountains by nightfall.  When questioned about what they might expect to encounter along the way, the gnome shrugged nonchalantly, but couldn’t quite conceal the uncertainty from his voice:
“Well…I suppose we could run across another flock of terror birds, but fortunately there are several large game trails we can follow, so we should make good time.  Plus, I’m an excellent outdoorsman!  I can look for signs that the birds might be nearby, and we should be able to avoid them easily.”

Despite the druid’s less than sincere enthusiasm, the company did indeed travel swiftly throughout the day.  The jungle consisted mostly of tall trees, flush with brightly colored birds and thick hanging vines.  The canopy kept the region shaded, with only occasional shafts of light penetrating.  Due to Urol’s skill, or just blind luck, they came upon none of the predatory raptors.  Sometime shortly past the sun’s zenith, the jungle began to thin, and they found themselves on the lip of a vast depression that stretched away to the horizon.  
“A star fell here, many decades ago,” Urol explained.  “It stretches for miles!  Isn’t it amazing?”
“Fascinating,” Anwar replied, rolling his eyes.  “What sort of local fauna calls this pit home?”
Urol looked a bit crestfallen that the bard did not share in his appreciation of the crater, but he brightened again at the mention of wildlife.  “Oh yes!” he clapped.  “If we’re fortunate, we might catch glimpse of a large heard of diplodocuses that roam here!”
“Diplwho?”  Sepoto asked.
“Di-plo-doc-us-es,” Urol said slowly, as if speaking to a dim-witted child.  “They’re dinosaurs, but not like the T-rex.  They’re herbivores.”  Sepoto stared at him blankly.  The druid sighed.  “They only eat plants.”
“Then we could have used them on the sargasso,” the goliath rumbled.  
“They’re perfectly harmless,” Urol continued.  “Let’s get moving.  I hope they’re active at this time of day!”

As they made their way through the crater, Thrisp took up a point position some fifty paces in front of the group.  Darting between shadows, and as quiet as a breeze, his companions were barely able to keep sight of him.  So it was that the wily gnome was the first to hear the distant rumbling.  Something large was headed their way from a copse of trees about thirty yards ahead.  He stood up, holding one hand in the air as a signal for the others to stop.  Soon, they all heard it.  Thrisp quickly ducked into the cover of some nearby scrub, while Sepoto and Samson moved several feet in front of the main group.  Anwar laid a hand on Tavey’s shoulder, while singing the words to a spell.  Slowly, the boy faded from view.
“Head that way,” the bard instructed the invisible lad, nodding towards another group of trees to their left.  “Amella, I think you and Urol should go as well.  Things could get dangerous.”
“I’m flattered,” the Captain smiled, “but I can take care of meself.”  
“I’m certain of that,” Anwar smiled back, “but I would feel better just the same.  Urol and the boy need someone to watch over them should something get past us.”  Amella nodded, smirking.  She knew the bard was trying to impress her, and he was doing a fairly good job of it.  Beckoning the gnome and the cabin boy after her, she started for the cover of the trees.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Anwar asked Basil as the wizard moved to follow the trio.
“Umm…well…” the mage stammered, “I just thought I would be of more use if I could observe from a distance and use my spells accordingly.”
“Of course,” Anwar sneered.  “Just make sure you stay where I can see you.  I would hate for you to have an accident.”
Basil gulped, nodded and hurried after Amella.

Gradually, the sounds grew louder, and the Legionnaires could hear a loud trumpeting, like that of an elephant, mixed in with several high-pitches shrieks.  Suddenly, the trees ahead ripped apart, and a large creature came charging out into the open.  It appeared somewhat elephantine in its size and basic shape, though its neck was elongated, and topped by a small, reptilian head.  It also sported a powerful tail, which it whipped from side-to-side in agitation as it ran.  Soon, the reason for its flight became apparent.  A flock of terror birds, no less than six, came running and screeching from the trees behind it.  
“It’s just a baby!”  Urol cried, panic-stricken.  “You have to help it!”
Sepoto looked at him, incredulous.  “Help it?  Who’s gonna help us?”

The terror birds began to swarm around the juvenile diplodocus, tearing at its thick hide with their beaks and claws.  The dinosaur swung its tail, swatting one of the birds away, but it only gained a momentary respite.
“Captain!” Urol pleaded, tugging on Amella’s arm.  “Do something!”
Amella shrugged her arm violently away from the gnome’s filthy touch.  She could care less what happened to the stupid beast, but she was truly concerned for Anwar’s safety.  The bard was still out there, putting himself in danger for her.  She hefted her crossbow, cranking a bolt into place.  Aiming carefully, she fired, sinking her shot directly into the flank of one of the birds.

The Seeker in Marius was mildly curious about the dinosaur, but not enough to put his own life at risk.  “Survival of the fittest,” he muttered as he began his magic.  Immediately, a huge explosion of fire rocked the ground, completely engulfing all of the terror birds as well as the diplodocus.  To the amazement of the warmage, none of the creatures were dead when the flames cleared.  All were more than a bit singed, but he had hoped for more.
“No!” he heard Urol shoot in rage, but he ignored the druid, intent on preparing his next spell.

Samson charged ahead of Sepoto, his acidic breath scorching one of the raptors.  The bird dodged away, only to be swatted by a massive sweep of the diplodocus’ tail, which bowled over three other birds as well.  At that moment, a second fireball exploded, this one much smaller than Marius’, but no less effective.  The four downed birds were left as smoking carcasses.  Basil grinned broadly and gave Anwar a thumbs-up from the sidelines.  Meanwhile, Sepoto charged in, practically wringing the neck of a nearby terror bird with his chain.  The animal reeled, unsteady on its feet, and Anwar saw his chance to impress Amella further.  Quickly knocking an arrow, he fired at the creature.  The arrow barely nicked the bird, but it was enough to take it down.  Amella beamed at the bard.  Sepoto’s expression was several orders of magnitude less friendly.

The terror birds reacted quickly to the new threats, and new prey.  One cawed loudly and charged across the open ground towards Marius, but as it moved the diplodocus batted it a glancing blow with its tail, snapping its neck nonetheless.  Only two of the raptors remained, and the diplodocus took the opportunity to lumber away towards the safety of the trees and its distant herd.  One of the birds ran at Thrisp, but the beguiler halted it in its tracks with a well-timed spell.  Marius quickly followed this with a scorching orb of fire, roasting it were it stood.  The last raptor leaped at Sepoto, gouging the goliath’s shoulder with its beak.  As it drew back for a second attack, another of Amella’s bolts sprouted from its neck, and then Samson was there, bludgeoning it into unconsciousness with his morningstar.

As the combatants caught their breath, their attention was drawn by a tirade of gnomish curses leveled at Marius by Urol, who now stood eye-to-eye with the warmage.  Marius’ eyes smoldered, and the tips of his fingers began to smoke as his own anger mounted.  Anwar, sensing the flash-point to come, quickly stepped in.
“Urol,” he said, his voice soothing and calm, “I understand your anger, but we did save the dinosaur, so what harm was done?”
“What harm?” the druid shouted, stamping his foot.  “Only third degree burns over a quarter of its body, that’s what harm!”
“Consider this, though,” Anwar continued, “perhaps the beast has learned a valuable lesson:  not to stray from the herd.  Not only did it encounter predators, but also fire.  I think it will be quite some time before it wanders from its mother’s side again.”
Urol did not seem entirely placated, but nonetheless he was at a loss for words to counter Anwar’s argument.  Instead, he stalked away, sullen and silent.
___________________________________________________________

Near sunset, the jungle again began to thin.  Soon, it opened up to reveal an area littered with ancient stone ruins.  They appeared to be Maztican in origin, but the jungle was slowly overwhelming the crumbling walls and they were infested with spiders.  Most were of the mundane variety, but some were as large as small dogs, though these scuttled into dark holes as the company approached.  Spider webs caressed the ruins, hanging between old walls, and carpeting the ground.  In a clearing in the center of the buildings, there was a throne made of webs and bone.  An old woman sat there, watching the group approach.  As they drew near, she beckoned them forward.  

“I am called Lithira, queen of these ruins, the old woman said, though she spoke in an ancient dialect of Maztican that only Thrisp understood.  Anwar had not advanced as far in his studies.  “Who are you that has wandered into my web?  You are not from this place.  I have not seen your like in an age.  What brings you to my domain?”
Thrisp walked forward, and bowed.  “We are merely traveling through.  We came to the island by ship from a distant land called Chult.”
“Tell me of this land,” Lithira said.  “I would hear a tale of your adventures.”
Thrisp proceeded to tell of their time spent in the ruins of Tamoachan, and the perils and wonders they encountered there.  Anwar, getting the gist of the conversation, provided musical accompaniment to the story, much to Lithira’s delight.  
“I thank you for your tale,” she said when Thrisp had finished.  “The world beyond sounds truly wondrous and I would very much like to visit it one day.  As for your journey, there is little I can do to aid you.  You should know that the way south is dangerous.  There are unnatural things that lurk in dark places, now more so than in the past.  I know that four eyes have gazed upon you and their servant seeks you out.  You would do well to avoid him.  If you plan to head south, take the dark mountain pass that travels under the peaks.  It was made by the ancient ones, but beware…hungry birds nest near its opening, not far from here, and they are fierce near their young.  May you wander the web to find your way home.”
“Can you tell us more about this dark pass?”  Thrisp asked.
“It leads to the bay on the far side,” she said, “but I have not been that way in ages.  Still, it is an easier path than traveling around or under the mountains.”
“What of these ‘four eyes’ that you mentioned, and the unnatural things under the mountains?” asked Thrisp.
“My premonitions are often unclear to me,” she replied.
“Then we thank you for what you have given us,” Thrisp bowed again.  “If I may ask one more question, though?  Are you aranea?”  The gnome had read about the shapeshifters in the journal of Lavinia’s mother.
Lithira smiled sadly.  “I am, though I am outcast from my home these many years.  Perhaps one day I may return.”  Before Thrisp could inquire further, though, her form shifted and melted, until an old, hairy spider crouched where she had sat.  Slowly, it crawled into the darkness, its children following.
____________________________________________________________

  The group made camp just beyond the ruins, and the next morning, as the others were breaking camp, Anwar asked Amella to take a walk with him.  When they had gone a few hundred feet from the others, he turned, holding her hands in his.
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately about your husband’s death.  I can’t tell you how sorry I am for your loss, and I know that nothing I say can ever encompass your pain, but if you would indulge me, I would like you to hear a song I’ve written.”
Amella looked uncertain, but nodded silently.  Anwar began his ballad, a haunting tale of a brave sea captain, his undoing at the hands of those he trusted, and the love he left behind.  Amella listened raptly, her eyes welling as the bard’s melodious voice wove his story.  But that was not all Anwar’s voice did.  Unknown to the Sea Wyvern’s captain, the minstrel also incorporated a powerful Suggestion into his song, implying that the next person Amella looked upon after she heard the tune would remind her deeply of her dead husband.  As his final words trailed away, Amella blinked for a moment, then quickly wiped her eyes.  When she looked up again, she gasped audibly.
“I never noticed before,” she said breathily.
“Noticed what?”  Anwar asked innocently.
“How much you remind me of Heldram…”
_____________________________________________________________

Once the group was packed, they continued on towards Dark Mountain Pass.  Once again, Thrisp took point, and so it was that he arrived on a small bluff overlooking a clearing leading up to a large cave opening in the cliffs ahead.  The first thing the gnome noted, however, were the four large nests spaced fairly evenly between the foot of the bluff and the cave entrance.  Each was occupied by a terror bird.  Lithira had not lied.  Quietly, Thrisp crept back to the group to advise them on what he’d seen.

It was decided that Amella, Tavey and Urol would stay behind while the Legionnaires dealt with the birds.  The companions arrayed themselves on the bluff, still unseen by the raptors.  Marius got the show underway, dropping a bomb-like fireball atop the nearest three birds.  At that moment, however, a fifth bird emerged from a copse of trees, this one much larger than the others.  Shrieking, she charged up the bluff, directly towards Samson.  The little dragon shaman turned towards her, breathing out his acidic breath, only this time, instead of dissipating on contact, it clung to the bird like a second skin, scouring and burning her feathers down to the skin beneath.  Still she came on, snapping her massive beak around the goblin’s waist, lifting him into the air, and shaking him like a rag doll.

The remaining birds charged as well, ignoring their pain in defense of their nests.  As the nearest one came towards Sepoto, the goliath sliced its head off at the neck with a flick of his chain.  He was not quick enough to fend off the other three, however, each of which rent his flesh with wicked bites.  
“I’ve got your back!”  Anwar shouted, knocking an arrow and firing at the most obviously injured bird, dropping it with a well-placed shot.
“Thanks for nothing!”  Sepoto snapped back.  

Seeing that the goliath had his situation well in hand, Marius and Basil focused on the nest mother.  The war mage lobbed a second fireball, this time positioning it in such a way that it detonated behind the bird, scorching her, but leaving Samson unharmed.  Basil, meanwhile loosed a sizzling line of flames at her, searing her hide even more.  The great bird turned, Samson still clutched tightly in her beak.  She took two steps towards the trees, intent on fleeing with her prey, but in that moment, her feet stuck themselves to the ground, rooting her to the spot.
“Thanks!”  Samson called to Thrisp, grimacing against the pain.  “Now do you think you could do something about getting me loose?”
Marius and Thrisp obliged again, pummeling the terror bird with a combination of Magic Missiles and Scorching Rays.  The nest mother toppled to the ground, Samson rolling free and springing to his feet.  Without even pausing to assess his wounds, he rushed to Sepoto’s defense, and in seconds, the pair dispatched the last of the raptors.

When Amella, Tavey and Urol joined the group, they could not help but be impressed with the efficiency of the Legion.  Urol’s admiration was short-lived however, as he spied an egg still intact within one of the nests.  Rushing to it, he scooped it up, examining its surface for cracks.  Satisfied that it was intact, he wrapped it carefully and tucked it into his pack.
“Isn’t it wonderful, Missus Grazzle?” he said to the crow which constantly rode his shoulder.  “When it hatches, we’ll train it!  I think I’ll name it George.”
_____________________________________________________________

Dark Mountain Pass proved to be just that, a black hole running deep beneath the mountains.  Thrisp leading, the company left sunlight behind and began what would be a three hour trek through darkness.  Amella was not happy during the journey, complaining bitterly about rat warrens fit for naught but gnomes.  Tavey glanced about constantly, struggling to hide his nervousness with a constant stream of inane comments and weak jokes.  Urol talked as well, though his nattering was mostly about the fascinating workmanship of the tunnel.  He took numerous rubbings along the way, and paused every now and then to make a quick sketch or two.  Once during the hike, Tavey ceased his talking, closing quickly to Sepoto and pulling on the goliath’s trousers.
“I though I saw something back there,” the boy said, looking fearfully back the way they’d come.  Sepoto looked back as well, peering into the gloom.
“It’s nothing,” he said finally, his sharp eyes seeing nothing unusual.  Tavey seemed to accept this, and returned to his spot near Amella, but within an hour, he was at the crusader’s side again.  This time, the whole group had heard the distant sound of skittering rocks, as if something had kicked loose stones in the dark.  Thrisp ducked into the shadows, retracing their steps.  He found a small pile of pebbles in the corridor, but nothing else.  He returned to the group, shrugged and continued on.

After three hours, the tunnel finally opened up into a large chamber shrouded in shadows.  A small, stagnant fountain lay directly opposite the entrance, while a stone throne sat on a dais at the far end of the room.  A humanoid ribcage was pinned to the throne, held there by an ancient spear, while all around it lay the remainder of the poor soul’s bones.  Thrisp gave the room a quick once-over, pronounced it safe, and the others entered.  Basil went directly to the throne, his magically enhanced vision revealing the dweomer on the spear.  He withdrew it gingerly, and marveled at its workmanship.  Meanwhile, Marius strolled near Urol.
“What do you think of the markings on the walls?” he asked nonchalantly.  
Urol immediately scowled, but after a moment, the academician in him took over.
“Well,” he said, attempting to sound indifferent, “they’re obviously Maztican, but the style…” and so on.  He warmed to the topic quickly, and before long the war mage regretted the olive branch he’d offered.  Lastly, Samson peered over the edge of the fountain into the water below.  Just for a moment, he thought he caught a flash of color.  Crawling over the side, he lowered himself into the water, only to find it over his head by about a foot, and he sank right to the bottom.  There, lying in the murk, he saw what had caught his attention.  It was a rod made of red stone.  The dragon shaman quickly grabbed it and pulled himself back out of the fountain.  He wasn’t sure what his discovery was, but he tucked it into his gear, nonetheless.

Thrisp left the room via a large, broad stair climbing up several feet, the others right behind him.  The stairs ended at a broad platform overlooking a wide chasm.  Two primitive stone statues flanked the balcony, their impassive countenances caked with mildew.  The chasm itself dropped away into a black gulf of swirling water.  Two bridges spanned the chasm, exiting the room through separate double doors on the far side.  Peering closely at the statues, Thrisp could see that beneath the grime there were deep hack marks, perhaps made by an axe.  Immediately suspicious, he warned his colleagues to stay clear of the sculptures, and continued onto the balcony, and began crossing the left-hand bridge.  

Basil and Anwar had just stepped on the balcony, brining up the rear, when both caught a sudden glimpse of movement high above them in the shadows of the cavern’s ceiling.  Two of the shadows abruptly detached themselves, scuttling down the walls and resolving themselves into a pair of gargantuan centipedes.  Acting quickly, Basil shouted a warning to the others, and then launched a volley of Magic Missiles at the nearest behemoth.  Behind him, Marius added his own pair of fire rays.  The giant vermin screeched, but fell to the floor and rolled into a ball when a second barrage of scorching rays from Basil burned holes in its carapace.  By that time, the second centipede had made it down to the balcony, but also by then, the Legionnaires were ready for it.  It died in a blinding pain of acid, fire and steel.

The massive stone doors were stuck fast, and it took all of Sepoto’s strength plus Samson’s to finally pry them open.  Beyond, the air was stale and dank.  A corridor stretched away into darkness before angling to the left.  Deep niches were set into the walls of the hallway, each holding fragments of human skeletons caked in mold and fungus.  Rusted metal collars and iron necklaces rested in each nice as well, and a few still retained fragments of crumbling burial shrouds.  On spaces where no niches have been carved, intricate murals of a skeletal humanoid or hound, each wreathed in a long, coiling snake, decorated the walls.  

Thrisp moved ahead.  The hallway continued on, branching occasionally, before taking a sharp turn to the right some fifty feet further.  All along it, more of the niches were carved, stacked six high per side.  As the others filed into the hall, Anwar noticed something different about the contents of one niche.  The body within seemed unusually well preserved, its shrouds intact.  Cautiously, he leaned forward, probing at the corpse with one finger.  To say he was stunned when it turned to look at him, grinning evilly, would be a horrible understatement.  Despite himself, the bard shrieked, backing several steps up the hallway.  To the horror of the others, the corpse began to drag itself from its resting place, rising to its feet and shambling forward.  It may have been a trick of the acoustics of the burial chambers, but it seemed as if, in the distance, other shuffling footsteps echoed back.

Urol, Tavey and Amella had just entered the hall when the mummy emerged, and each of them gaped at it in wild-eyed terror.  Almost as one, they turned, fleeing back across the bridge.  The creature moved as if to follow, but Samson leaped into its path.  He swung his cudgel, slamming it into its belly, but it was like striking stone.  Dust puffed into the air, and aging sinew creaked as it turned to gaze down at the goblin.  Suddenly, it grabbed its eyes as a blinding spray of colors flew from Thrisp’s hands towards it.  

Sepoto had been moving further up the corridor when Anwar cried out.  As he turned back towards his companion, however, he saw a second mummy approaching from a side passage.  Instantly, the crusader was on guard, his chain flashing out and ripping into the long-dead flesh.  As he pulled the weapon back to his hand, he continued to flick it out in rapid strikes, creating a veritable thicket of blades about him that the undead thing could not pass through.  Yet on it came, heedless of the damage inflicted upon it.  Swinging one arm clumsily, it cuffed the goliath on the side of the head, yet to Sepoto it felt as if he’d been hit with a sledgehammer.  

Anwar had ducked into a second passage, safely away from the melee…or so he thought.  From behind him came a scuffling sound, and when he swung in that direction, the blood drained from his face as two more of the walking dead lurched towards him.  One reached out, dropping its fist onto his shoulder.  The bard felt something snap, and then the second one moved behind, flanking him.  Desperate, he called a spell to his lips, vanishing from sight.  As the mummies looked around in confusion, Anwar slipped away into the dark.

Thrisp, using the magic of the cloak he wore, scuttled up the wall of the hallway, clinging to the ceiling like a spider.  From that vantage point, he uttered a spell, seeking to slow the movements of the three mummies that he could see.  Alas, only one seemed affected, its shuffling gait faltering.  At the same time, Basil fired a barrage of arcane missiles at the first horror, while Samson, seeing that his weapon was next to ineffectual, breathed acid on the corpse.  The wrappings of the creature hissed and sputtered, yet it lunged at the dragon shaman, batting him to one side with an almost casual swipe of its arm.  Then, from behind, one of the mummies that had harried Anwar, swung into the main hall, closing rapidly with Marius.  The warmage struggled to back away, but he wasn’t fast enough.  The walking dead back-handed him into the opposite wall.  Basil watched all this in abject terror, a feeling of overwhelming despair seizing him, rooting him in place, paralyzed with fear.

Sepoto backed steadily away from his opponent, striking at it as it kept pace with him.  Yet the thing was faster than it appeared, dodging more of the goliath’s blows than suffering them.  Sepoto knew he had to reach his companions before it was too late.

Marius was desperate.  Mummies were on all sides, and Basil was all but catatonic, while Samson still reeled from the blow the undead had given him.  Focusing his magic, knowing that Basil would suffer the effects as well as his enemies, the warmage unleashed a burst of fire, which engulfed everything within ten feet of him.  Two of the mummies howled, their shrouds turning into torches.  Yet the Seeker was forced to watch as, helpless, Basil’s skin began to burn and blister.

Anwar could hear the sounds of battle from his hiding place, and he knew that his companions were not faring well.  If they did not survive, his own chances were minimal.  Against his better judgment, the bard slowly edged back down the hall.  When he could just glimpse two of the mummies, he began to cast.  When he’d finished, a patch of oily grease appeared beneath the feet of the undead, and comically, they both slipped, falling prone to the ground.

Samson staggered upright, but even as he regained his senses, the mummy struck again, this time catching him around the neck with both hands.  Gasping, the dragon shaman dropped his weapon as his hands reflexively grabbed those of his attacker, struggling to break free of the death grip.

Thrisp couldn’t believe things had gone so wrong so quickly.  His team was in danger of total annihilation.  Thinking quickly, he wove his magic, summoning forth another legion of ghostly sentinels.  Swirling around in the air above the mummies, they waited.  They didn’t have to wait long.  As the two prone undead rose to their feet, the sentinels swarmed towards them, beating at them with incorporeal fists.  The mummies began swinging wildly about them, one of them unfortunately connecting with Marius again.  The warmage staggered, leaning against the wall for support.  

Samson gasped as the air left his lungs.  His vision blurred and bright spots exploded behind his eyes.  As he went limp, the mummy cast him aside, but as it did so, Marius rose up before it, firing a scorching blast of flames into its chest at point-blank range, immolating it instantaneously.  Whirling, he loosed a second blast into the mummy behind him, incinerating it as well.  One mummy remained in the grease.  It surged towards Marius, but slipped again.  As it tried to rise, Sepoto struck, along with the sentinels.  In a puff of stale air, it exploded.  The last mummy rushed towards the goliath while his back was turned, but he sensed its approach, and spun on his heel, cutting it cleanly in two with his chain.

As the last of the mummies fell, the Legionnaires breathed a collective sigh of relief.  Samson was still alive, but just barely.  Sepoto lifted him and carried him back out onto the bridge.  When he set the dragon shaman down, however, he noticed something strange.
“What in the Hells? he breathed.  The flesh around Samson’s neck where the mummy had touched him, had begun to fester into an open sore.  Sepoto could see the muscle and tissue beneath it already.  Quickly, he looked to his own skin, and to his dawning horror, he saw the same lesions spreading.  In turn, Marius found similar sores ulcerating beneath his clothes.  The mummies had infected them with something.  They were slowly rotting away…


----------



## Dantardis

*Training*

I was wondering how you managed to deal with training for the PCs whilst they were on the sea voyage?


----------



## theredrobedwizard

Joachim said:
			
		

> I like you.  Thank you for joining the conversation and making me giggle, like a little girl.




Thanks for the compliment; I hope to add more color commentary as the story progresses.

-TRRW


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Great updates, JollyDoc! I haven't been able to follow your exploits in a few weeks, but have now caught up & love it more than ever. 

Fine job dealing with Avner. As for evil, the only thing that at may strike as truely evil at first is Lirith's murder. But if you take a close look at it, it was just a requirement for Thrisp's new career move. When the economy is bad, you can't be picky... 

Don't joke around about kittens and candy-taking. Everyone knows that kittens are the preferred avatars of Demogorgon, while with so many overweight children nowdays taking candy from them would be a good thing. So since the League is not doing these things, they are actually evil.


----------



## JollyDoc

Dantardis said:
			
		

> I was wondering how you managed to deal with training for the PCs whilst they were on the sea voyage?




We've never really been sticklers about the training rule in our game.  We assume that if you are adventuring and doing enough to gain xp, you are training on the job, within reason.  Thrisp taking Shadow Adept, for instance.  It was assumed he'd been on that path since the beginning, so when the time came for him to level, it was not an issue.  The same with Sepoto and the Eye of Savras (Ruby Knight Vindicator) prestige class.  Marius is strictly warmage, while Anwar is now strictly bard after having taken one level in Marshal while still in Tashluta.  Samson is all dragon shaman.  In his backstory, this is part of his cultur and heritage, so he is constantly learning deeper mysteries of this legacy.  Basil began the master specialist prestige class in Tashluta as well.  It's assumed he brought books with him to study the class more deeply.  When Thrisp and Anwar wanted to learn Maztican, they spent time with villagers.  As long as things are reasonable, I don't mind.  If some classs, skill or feat were totally unavailable, considering their surroundings, that would be different.


----------



## R-Hero

Good Update, Joe.  It seemed touch and go with the mummies and now a disease from them.  I don't guess a paladin will be added to the ranks anytime soon...  




			
				RedRobeMage said:
			
		

> Lirith murdered in cold blood?: She was a skank. Also, that's what she gets for trusting a Gnome. See Natural Selection.




Gotr hates that tree-hugger Urol as just as much.  Thinks she needs a stabbin'!
Never trust a gnome


----------



## Hammerhead

You know, as I think about it, Basil is really going to kick ass. Lesser Tiefling + Master Specialist + Initiate of the Sevenfold Veils? Ouch! He may end up making Faust look like a stage magician.

I'm also wondering how the Dragon Shaman class is shaping up? My group's consensus was that the class sucked, lacking offensive power. The only optimization potential I could find was taking the Clinging Breath feat, increasing the recharge time by like a thousand rounds, hitting the enemies, then leaving. The other way I could think it might be good is to just focus on Strength, get a level of Barbarian, and hit things while getting a small benefit from your aura. Thoughts?


----------



## carborundum

Another great update, JD! 
Like Heroes, it's getting better with every episode 

I've a quick question too - did you have the players roll the mummy rot saves or do it yourself. I know it's nice to let them roll their own saves, and for reflex saves I'm all for it. Something like a disease though, seems like it would be creepier/ better story-wise to roll it as DM then just start describing symptoms to those who failed the save.

Curious how you guys did it...


----------



## JollyDoc

R-Hero said:
			
		

> Good Update, Joe.  It seemed touch and go with the mummies and now a disease from them.  I don't guess a paladin will be added to the ranks anytime soon...
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Gotr hates that tree-hugger Urol as just as much.  Thinks she needs a stabbin'!
> Never trust a gnome





The Legion is hating life about now without Gotr...a honest-to-Garl cleric...to kick around.


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Another great update, JD!
> Like Heroes, it's getting better with every episode
> 
> I've a quick question too - did you have the players roll the mummy rot saves or do it yourself. I know it's nice to let them roll their own saves, and for reflex saves I'm all for it. Something like a disease though, seems like it would be creepier/ better story-wise to roll it as DM then just start describing symptoms to those who failed the save.
> 
> Curious how you guys did it...





Well, the funny thing is I allowed them all to roll their saves, but no one knew the DC.  They assumed it was 15 (which three of them rolled).  I didn't tell them whether they'd failed or made it...until one minute later, when the rot set in.


----------



## Quartz

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Well, the funny thing is I allowed them all to roll their saves, but no one knew the DC.  They assumed it was 15 (which three of them rolled).  I didn't tell them whether they'd failed or made it...until one minute later, when the rot set in.



No matter how evil they get, you're worse!


----------



## JollyDoc

Quartz said:
			
		

> No matter how evil they get, you're worse!





(sigh) We do what we can...


----------



## carborundum

Thanks JD. It's one of those things I' m never sure of the " right"  way of doing it. You do it yourself, you work it into the story, you don't interrupt the rp with dice and then it seems almost "heavy-handed" since they never had a chance to save themselves. 

OR

The fight finishes, everyone's reacting in-character, sighing, checking wounded, searching around then you stop all that and say "Everyone gimme a Fortitude save, please". Next thing you get is a barrage of questions about exactly WHY they need to save, who stood where, who wasn't damaged etc etc.

Damned if you do ...


----------



## gfunk

*Sunday Night Update*

1. Leaving their newly diseased colleagues behind (a bit of a retcon, Anwar did actually make his Fort save), Thrisp and Anwar do a wee bit of adventuring on their own.  Originally, they plan on pocketing everything between themselves but upon discovering a bit of a treasure trove in the boulevard of poisoned spears, they re-consider.

2. After days (and I do mean days) of trying, a few Legion members manage to figure out how to overcome their Mummy Rot and adventure on.

3. Everybody's favorite chew toy gets grappled . . . again.  Of course, this is not nearly humiliating enough so JD strips him of his armor and, just to be complete, his shield too!

4. We finally find the exit to the dark mountain pass and enjoy some nice steamed crab.

5. Walking on a cliff trail with a 100 foot drop is never a good thing.  We meet one of Samson's "patrons" and the shaman falls to his knees in supplication.  It doesn't work but the party does happen to be standing in a nice 60 ft line.

6. GARGOYLE AMBUSH!!  The Legion's teamwork is awe-inspiring.  These aren't your daddy's gargoyles, Urol tells us.

7. Somebody goes all Blair Witch Project on us.


----------



## Supar

i think the next update should be called Basil For The Win. If there was a night Basil shined it would have to be tonight. Very useful the young abjurer was to say the least.


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Supar said:
			
		

> i think the next update should be called Basil For The Win. If there was a night Basil shined it would have to be tonight. Very useful the young abjurer was to say the least.




Only because Marius was infected with the rot and you was Brow beaten into action


----------



## Supar

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> Only because Marius was infected with the rot and you was Brow beaten into action




is that short for thank you for saving me a fate worse then death?


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Nope just stating the obvious


----------



## Zaruthustran

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> You know, as I think about it, Basil is really going to kick ass. Lesser Tiefling + Master Specialist + Initiate of the Sevenfold Veils? Ouch! He may end up making Faust look like a stage magician.




What's so hot about this combo? I admit I'm not familiar with caster builds.



> I'm also wondering how the Dragon Shaman class is shaping up? My group's consensus was that the class sucked, lacking offensive power. The only optimization potential I could find was taking the Clinging Breath feat, increasing the recharge time by like a thousand rounds, hitting the enemies, then leaving. The other way I could think it might be good is to just focus on Strength, get a level of Barbarian, and hit things while getting a small benefit from your aura. Thoughts?




We've got a Dragon Shaman/Ranger in our _Savage Tide_ campaign, and as of yesterday's encounter with Ripclaw the Savage Dinosaur, no cleric. So far the Shaman is an utter badass and a real life-saver with those auras. His role is melee tank: he's got Shield Specialization, Agile Shield Fighter, Improved Shield Bash, and a spiked heavy Bashing shield, so each shield hit does 2d6+4 damage. It's like he has a one-handed +1 greatsword that also gives +3 to AC. 

He fights with spear and shield, and after seeing _300_ yesterday we're all really getting a kick out of imagining his character in action. 

The Ranger level is for Track, skill points, favored enemy (the party figures a sea campaign will feature plenty of humans, so Favored Enemy: Human will come in handy), and the ability to use Divine wands of spells from the ranger list (including the ever-popular "happy stick"). So far it's working out very well.

-z


----------



## JollyDoc

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> I'm also wondering how the Dragon Shaman class is shaping up? My group's consensus was that the class sucked, lacking offensive power. The only optimization potential I could find was taking the Clinging Breath feat, increasing the recharge time by like a thousand rounds, hitting the enemies, then leaving. The other way I could think it might be good is to just focus on Strength, get a level of Barbarian, and hit things while getting a small benefit from your aura. Thoughts?





This is a difficult question because, unfortunately, Samson is being hamstrung at every turn.  Admittedly, his aura's do help the party, but his role as a front-rank fighter has been severely hampered by his goblin physique.  After this week, he is even less able to do so (as you will see).  He relies pretty heavily on his breath weapon, which is useful.  All in all, it is my opinion that the poor boy will not last to see the end of the AP, but I've been surprised before.


----------



## Supar

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> but I've been surprised before.




1 word Grubber


----------



## Joachim

Grubber was a cleric, a class that is one of the most powerful out there, and after the lower levels was not expected to be a front-line tank.  The dragon shaman is a fairly weak class, and Samson is expected to spend all of his time up front encountering every improved grabbing monster that Paizo could find.  

Grubber was also a medium sized creature that counted as being large and could wield large-sized weapons (2d8 hammer with a racial +4 modifier to  strength, comparable damage of 11 per hit with a +2 on the attack roll).  Samson was a medium sized creature that counts as being small, wielding a small weapon (1d6 with a racial -2 penalty to strength, comparable damage of 2.5 per hit with a -2 on the attack roll).

Grubber most powerful ability was Miracle / BoED goodness.  Samson most powerful ability is a breath weapon that maxes out at 10d6.

Yeah, I see too similarly hampered characters there (note sarcasm), even if Grubber never flew, which was really more of a party problem than an individual problem.


----------



## Zaruthustran

Maybe it's time to buy Samson a Wish or Miracle, and revert him back to his original form. It's no fun for anyone if a player is stuck with a character he doesn't enjoy playing.


----------



## JollyDoc

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Maybe it's time to buy Samson a Wish or Miracle, and revert him back to his original form. It's no fun for anyone if a player is stuck with a character he doesn't enjoy playing.




Well, that's the thing.  I think Samson's player actually enjoys playing him!  Case in point:  when the group fought the mummies, originally Samson was overcome by the despair and was "paralyzed with fear."  One of the mummies then performed a coup de grace and killed him.  When Thomas (Samson's player) left that night, it was with the full intention of making a new character.  As the week progressed, however, it came to my attention that dragon shamans are immune to paralysis.  This then began a discussion as to whether or not mummy despair was a paralysis effect, or a fear effect.  In the end, I found a web link that mentioned mummy despair, which directly referenced the paralyzed condition, not the fear condition.  Ultimately, I offered Thomas the choice of bringing back Samson, or bringing in a new character.  He chose to bring back Samson.  Go figure.


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## Need_A_Life

Great, as always!


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## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Ultimately, I offered Thomas the choice of bringing back Samson, or bringing in a new character.  He chose to bring back Samson.  Go figure.



The road to roleplayers is paved with the dice of many good powergamers...or something like that. 

Kudos Thomas!


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## JollyDoc

THE CLIFFS OF INSANITY

“It’s Mummy Rot,” Anwar said as he examined the festering wound on Sepoto’s arm.  “It’s a disease that mummies transmit on contact.”
“If it’s a disease,” Marius said through gritted teeth, obviously in pain, “then why didn’t our curatives remove it?”
“Well, technically, it’s a curse,” Anwar said, clinically.
“I can remove curses,” Basil chimed in, “but I’ll need a day to study the appropriate spell.
“I’m afraid it won’t be that easy,” Anwar replied, turning to the young mage.  “Mummy Rot is a very powerful curse.  Even with your magic, you may have difficulty undoing it.”
“It doesn’t seem that we have much choice,” Urol said, matter-of-factly.  “I’ll tend to these three,” he indicated Sepoto, Marius and Samson, “while the young feller there does whatever it is that he needs to do.  We’ll just see what the morning brings.”

Basil fished a coil of rope from his pack, spoke a few words over it, and tossed it into the air, where it hung, rigid and unsuspended.
“Everybody climb up,” he said.  “I’ve created a safe haven for us to rest.”  
Sure enough, as each of the group clambered up the knotted rope, they found themselves in a large, bare room, big enough to accommodate all of them.  They could peer out from where the rope entered the extradimensional space, much like a trap door.  When the last of them were inside, Basil pulled the rope up behind them, leaving no trace of their passing.

When morning came, Urol’s patients looked no worse, and the druid had even managed to make some of their lesions look less purulent.  It was time for Basil to begin his work.  The wizard started with Sepoto, reasoning that they would need the big goliath hale and hearty if they were to find their way out of the tomb.  Three times he wove his magic, but it was only on the third attempt that he finally sat back, sweat beading on his brow.  
“It’s done,” he said.
“Are you sure?”  Sepoto asked.  “Why are the sores still there?”
“Because only the curse has been broken,” Anwar answered.  “The disease remains, and must be cured.”
Sepoto nodded.  “That I can handle.”  The goliath pulled a strand of prayer beads from his pocket, and sorted through them to one particular bead.  This one he concentrated on, closing his eyes.  Within a few moments, a soft, golden glow began to shine from between his hands, spreading to cover his entire body.  Just as quickly, it faded.
“There,” he said.  
Anwar nodded.  “Now you will just have to let time do the rest.  Speaking of which, it seems time is something we have a surplus of.  Basil, I presume you will need to study your spells again and try once more in the morning.”  The wizard nodded.  “Then I will leave it to you, Urol, to tend to your charges.  Thrisp, why don’t you and I go exploring?”
___________________________________________________________

The pair crept thru the tomb, silent and unseen, courtesy of Thrisp’s magic, looking closely at everything, but careful to touch nothing.  At one point Thrisp paused at an apparent dead-end.
“What’s wrong?”  Anwar whispered, prepared to flee if another mummy suddenly appeared.
“This wall,” Thrisp said absently, staring intently at the seemingly blank stone, “I think there may be some sort of opening here.  The coloring of the stone is subtly different, and the air smells just a tad mustier.”
“Hmph,” Anwar snorted.  “How can you tell?  The whole place smells like Sepoto’s boots.”
Thrisp ignored him, still examining the wall.  Abruptly, he touched a spot on one of the stones, and the entire wall swung inward.
“Voila!” the gnome said.  “Shall we?”

The chamber beyond was a small crypt dominated by a large stone sarcophagus.  Both the walls of the room and the sarcophagus itself were covered in decorative patterns and carvings of animals.  The top of the sarcophagus depicted a man dressed in robes, wearing a feathered headdress, and clutching a blue rod in one hand, and a ceremonial dagger in the other.
“I’m not sure about this,” Anwar said as he gazed into the crypt from the doorway.
“Relax,” Thrisp said.  “If there’s any danger, we can slip out unseen and be back to the others in a matter of moments.”
“Then you go and check it out,” the bard replied.  “I’ll be sure and bring help if you get into any trouble.”
Thrisp rolled his eyes, and began making his way across the room, examining every flagstone for signs of hidden traps before he put his foot on it.  The only thing he noted were numerous small holes pitting the entire floor.  When he reached the sarcophagus, he walked around it once, inspecting it closely.  Satisfied that it wasn’t going to explode if he touched it, he climbed on top.  Once more, he scrutinized every inch of the lid and the relief carved upon it.  
“Aha!” he said softly.  Just where the lid joined the main sarcophagus, he found a small, depressed knob.  Lifting the lid would allow the knob to rise up and trigger, Thrisp suspected, some sort of trap.  Rubbing his hands together, he pulled a small bag of tools from his belt.  Working with the expertise of a master craftsman, he managed to wedge the knob in place.  Satisfied, he climbed back down and returned to Anwar.
“You see?” he said.  “Nothing to worry about.  Just the same, you might want to stand back.  I’m going to open it from here.”
Anwar obliged without question, retreating around a corner.  Thrisp spoke the words to a spell, and then mimed knocking on a door.  The lid of the sarcophagus suddenly slid to the side and fell heavily to the floor.  Thrisp waited breathlessly for a moment, but nothing emerged.  Once more he moved across the room, and climbed atop the pedestal to peer in.  A skeletal corpse lay within, adorned as the relief depicted.  It held a blue, stone rod in one hand, and a gleaming silver dagger in the other.  Around its neck was a golden medallion inset with a shining, pink pear, glowing dimly.  The rod, Thrisp noted, was identical to the red one Samson had found, save for its color.  The two must be important, he thought.  Reaching in, he plucked all three items from the corpse, and again held his breath.  The mummy remained stationary.  Quickly, the gnome scuttled back out of the room, closing the hidden door behind him.  
“Not bad,” Anwar said.  “I would have thought you’d be dead three times over.  Luck must be with you today.”
“Not luck at all…pure skill!” the beguiler retorted.  Having had their fill of adventure for one day, they returned to their comrades.
_____________________________________________________________

The following morning saw Basil finally succeed at removing the mummy’s curse from Samson, after which Sepoto used his prayer beads to completely cure the diseased flesh of the dragon shaman.  Marius was not so fortunate.  Not only could the wizard not undo the foul magic afflicting the war mage, but Marius’ lesions grew worse, despite Urol’s ministrations.  

“We’ve no choice but to remain another day,” Anwar said as he observed Marius’ condition, “but now that most of us are well, we had best go about finding our way out of this place.  Amella, I would ask that you remain here with Urol and Tavey, and continue to tend Marius.  We won’t be gone long.”
Amella looked reluctant to be separated from the bard, but she nodded, after giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Thrisp said as they exited their safe haven.  
“I wouldn’t play any other kind,” Anwar winked.  “Tomorrow is promised to no one, which is why I live each day as if it were my last.”
The Legionnaires, minus Marius, wound their way through the twisting turns of the mausoleum, until at last they came upon twin stone doors.  Thrisp ascertained that they were safe, and then Sepoto pushed through.  Two gigantic iron doors stood closed to the south of the small chamber beyond.  They were decorated with symbols of water and sea life in tarnished copper.  Opposite them were a pair of pedestals, each with a peculiar notch cut into the side.  One of the pedestals was made from dusky red granite, while the other was crafted from light blue marble.
“It seems we’ve solved the mystery of the colored rods,” Anwar said.
“Those doors probably lead out,” Thrisp added.  “They look like water doors.  There’s probably some tidal basin on the far side.  Before we find out, however, I’d like to have a look at what’s on the other side of those doors.”  He nodded to the far side of the room, where another pair of stone doors stood closed.  “Unless I miss my guess, I would assume they lead eventually back to the far chasm bridge, but I’m curious just the same.”
“You know that they say about curiosity,” Anwar smiled.
“I also know that they say about satisfaction,” the gnome retorted.

Another largely bare chamber lay beyond the portals.  One corner had completely crumbled away to reveal a stagnant pool of water, its surface calm, dark and mysterious.  One more pair of closed stone doors stood on the north wall.  Samson and Sepoto began moving across the room, cautiously approaching the pool while the others waited in the doorway.  They were still ten feet away from the water when a viscous, black pseudopod suddenly erupted from within, attaching itself to Samson.  The goblin screamed in agony as he was hoisted from his feet, his skin smoking as some sort of acid ate into his flesh.  In a matter of seconds his clothing had completely dissolved, and shortly thereafter, his breastplate corroded as well.  The appendage pulled him towards the pool as an amorphous, ebony body began to emerge.  

Sepoto began backing slowly away.  He knew that if just the touch of the creature could completely destroy Samson’s armor, then his weapon would be useless.  He turned helplessly towards the others.
“Do something!” he shouted.
“Get back!”  Basil yelled.  The wizard rolled up his sleeves, a spell on his lips as he did so.  Three searing blasts of fire flew from his hands, each striking the ooze unerringly.  The creature shuddered with each hit, its pudding-like skin drying and cracking beneath the flames.  Samson screamed again as the monstrosity reflexively constricted its pseudopod around him, this time melting his shield as he brought up in a warding gesture.  In desperation, the dragon shaman breathed his own acidic breath onto the thing, and to his amazement, more of its form began to dissolve.  
“Hit it again!”  Anwar snapped at Basil, laying his hand upon the wizard’s shoulder as he imbued him with his own magic, augmenting that of the master specialist.  Again Basil spoke the words to his spell, and again fire erupted from him.  This time, the skin of the ooze began to boil and bubble like tar, until it began to discorporate, melting back into the pool.  Samson leaped free, landing naked on the floor, his own flesh a mass of blisters.  Mentally slowing his breathing and heart rate, he brought from within him the great stamina of the dragons, healing his wounds with their power.

Thrisp gave Samson a spare set of his robes to wear, and Basil wove a spell about the dragon shaman, conjuring a mystical field of force around him that would act as a sort of temporary armor.
“I’m sorry we can’t do more,” Thrisp said.  
“You’ll just have to keep yourself out of the thick of things until we can come up with something better,” Anwar said, barely managing to keep the disgust from his voice.  In his mind, the dragon shaman was quickly becoming a liability…an expendable one at that.

The doors at the opposite side of the chamber did indeed lead back to the chasm, just as Thrisp had suspected, so the group returned to the water doors.  Samson and Sepoto each placed one of the rods into the pedestals and began to rotate them.  The great doors opened with a screech of protest, flooding the chamber with fresh salt air from the world outside.  Beyond the doors was a set of broad seaweed-choked stairs that led down to a small beach.  It was low tide, or else the area beyond the beach would have been completely submerged.  As it was, a wet stone path led between several deep tidal pools to a second beach, which rose up away from the water, forming a winding cliffside path roughly eighty feet above.

The literal coast looked clear, but Thrisp was never one to take things at face value.  While his companions waited at the foot of the stairs, the beguiler spoke a spell, and then scuttled up the cliff wall like a spider, quickly blending into the shadows.  He paused above a nearby pool, his keen eyes gazing around the area.  Nothing moved.  His gaze then swept the pool below him, but it was too murky for him to see within.  He thought for a moment, and then shrugged as he made up his mind.  Quickly, he climbed down the wall, and then into the pool, holding his breath as he submerged.  The pool was relatively shallow, only about ten feet or so, but it was twenty or thirty feet across at its widest.  Crouched around the bottom where three monstrous crabs, easily the size of horses.  They busied themselves plucking brine and plankton from the water, and then feeding their catch into their mouths.  They didn’t seem to notice Thrisp at all.  As furtively as possible, he climbed back out of the water and returned to his comrades.
“We’ve got crabs,” he said as he stood dripping in front of them, “big ones.”
“Speak for yourself, my good man,” Anwar said indignantly.  “I am always very selective about the female company I keep.”  He laughed aloud at his own joke.
“May I continue?”  Thrisp asked dryly as the bard continued to chuckle.  “As I was saying, there are three of them, spaced around the bottom of the pool.”
“It’s not that big,” Basil observed.  “I could engulf the whole thing with a well placed fireball.”
“Won’t the water extinguish the flames?”  Sepoto asked.
“Ordinary ones, yes,” Basil explained, “but not necessarily magical ones.  I have some skill at this.”

The group spaced themselves out along the stone path, waiting for Basil to either kill or draw the vermin out.  The young wizard began his spell, tossing a pea-sized spark of fire into the pool.  An instant later, the entire basin lit up from within, and steam rose from the boiling water.  One by one, the crabs rapidly exited the pool, their shells bright red.  Angered and in pain, they charged forward, claws snapping.  Sepoto was ready.  Whirling his chain, he brought it down with a force that sent a shockwave through the very stone beneath his feet.  The crab exploded into a hundred fragments.  As the second one approached, the goliath flicked his blade out and back, lightning fast, tearing pieces out of the creature’s carapace.  At that moment, the third crab rushed at his flank, but a word from Thrisp froze its limbs to the ground, halting it in its tracks.  Samson leaped forward, his acidic breath exploding from his lungs.  One of the monsters collapsed, great smoking craters eaten into its hide.  Sepoto darted at the other, cracking its shell cleanly in two with a final strike.

Anwar stepped forward, surveying the carnage with his hands on his hips.
“All I can say,” he laughed, “is who brought the hot butter?”
___________________________________________________

Having found the far side of Dark Mountain Pass, the Legionnaires returned to their companions and recounted their tale.  Marius was stable, but still wracked with fever and pain.  Another long night passed as Basil prepared his magic again, but the morning brought him no luck, and the company was forced to delay yet another day.  Finally, on the following morning, the wizard found success.  Sepoto quickly removed the remnants of the rot, but it was obvious to all that, though Marius could travel, he would be weak for days to come.

Gathering their gear, the expedition left the pass and took to the cliff trail.  Soon it widened, becoming something of a road, though a poorly maintained one.
“The Mazticans built this at least a millennia ago,” Urol explained enthusiastically as they picked their way among the broken paving stones.  “We’ll be following it along the coast south for at least the next six days, but with the road to guide us, we should make good time.”

The route was a winding one, at times taking the company nearly one-hundred feet above the waters below, and at others descending back to sea level to traverse stretches of rocky beach.  As they made their way south, they found traces of recent native settlements…empty outrigger canoes beached on the rocks, sections of walkway that had been repaired or reinforced with wooden supports where erosion had washed away the stone, and every so often they even came upon small collections of beachside huts.  All of these proved to be uninhabited and often partially collapsed, the nesting grounds for loud, angry gulls.  The canoes were rotten, and the repairs to the cliffside path were dubious and looked unsafe.  And so the first day went.  As the sun began to sink, they made camp.  This was done in relative safety, thanks to Basil’s ability to create his rope trick.  Still, Thrisp came down from the haven in the middle of the night, restless with his thoughts.  As he sat, gazing out at the moon-washed waves, he suddenly sensed that he was being watched.  He was certain there was something out there in the dark, but he couldn’t see nor hear it.  Huddling deeper into his cloak, he sank into the shadows, sleep eluding him.

The next day dawned bright and hot.  The castaways set out again, Thrisp in the lead, scouting, while the others followed some fifty feet behind.  It was mid-morning when they first caught the almost silent sound of flapping wings.  As one, they looked to the sky, just in time to see a large shadow pass directly overhead.  Samson gasped in wonder as he saw the silhouette.  Could it be?  As the creature landed on the road before them, between the main company and Thrisp, the dragon shaman saw that he had been right. A dragon crouched not twenty feet away.  It was not mature, Samson saw, probably just barely into adulthood, yet it was still as large as an ox.  Its black scales glistened in the sunlight, and curling, ram-like horns sprouted from its head.  It stretched its neck out, hissing like a serpent, an acrid, burning stink carried on its breath.  Before any of the others could react, Samson stepped forward, and dropped to one knee, bowing his head to the stones.
“Great one,” he said, “we bear you no ill will, and regret having transgressed upon your hunting grounds.  We beg that you let us pass, and we shall honor your name across this land.”  His words were spoken in the language of dragons, and the young wyrm seemed surprised to hear his native tongue from the mouth of a goblin.
“Spare me your honor,” he spat.  “I hunger.  If you truly revere the blood which flows through your veins, you will sacrifice one of your number to me.  Then you shall pass.”
“Please, my lord,” Samson replied, raising his eyes to the dragon, “do not ask this of me.  Their lives are not mine to give.”
“Then you are just as worthless to me as they are!” the wyrm roared.  

Urol, who understood the draconic dialect, listened with growing dread.  When the dragon bellowed, the little gnome panicked, bolting back down the trail.  As he went, he called upon the magic of the natural world to create a billowing cloud of mist about him, obscuring him, he hoped, from the dragon’s view.  

“Looks like negotiations are over,” Basil said.  “Time for diplomacy by other means!”  The wizard loosed a salvo of fiery contrails at the ebony dragon, each blast searing deep scores in its armor-plated flesh.  The wyrm reared on its back legs, howling into the sky.  Tavey’s nerve broke.  Darting from Sepoto’s side, he vanished into Urol’s fog bank.  Amella watched him go, and then quickly looked at Anwar.  The bard nodded, and the sea captain followed after the boy.

Thrisp had watched the entire exchange from hiding.  The dragon had paid him no notice, oblivious to his presence.  The beguiler intended to use that to his advantage.  Stepping from the cliff shadows, he shouted out arcane words, and as the wyrm turned in surprise, a blast of radiant light struck him squarely in the face, sending a blinding starburst of light into his eyes.  Instantly, Thrisp vanished from sight.
“You think me beaten so easily?” the dragon roared.  “I don’t need to see you to kill you!”  His neck whipped back towards the main group, his supernaturally heightened senses picking out each of them.  Stretching his jaws wide, he spewed a deadly line of caustic acid, catching Basil, Samson and Anwar in its spray.  All three felt as if their skin were melting, and in places, it actually was.  Anwar swore he could see the white of bone beneath one of the burns.  

Sepoto had been willing to give Samson the benefit of the doubt, but when it became obvious that the dragon was in no mood to parley, the goliath was in motion.  He nimbly dodged aside as the acidic breath of the creature spewed forth, and he rolled to within mere feet of the wyrm.  Spinning his chain like a lasso, he raked it across the dragon’s neck.  Though it was obvious that the beast was still blind, it turned its head directly towards the goliath.  Raising one paw, he raked five, razor-sharp claws across Sepoto’s chest.  As he reared to strike again, a fiery blast exploded behind him, knocking him off balance.  Sepoto didn’t hesitate, striking again, knowing that he had to stay on the offensive to survive.  The dragon regained his balance and took a cautious step back.  He crouched low, as if to pounce, and Sepoto readied himself for the coming assault.  To his surprise, however, the wyrm leaped into the air, soaring over him to land several yards away, directly in front of Basil.
“So, little wizard,” the dragon hissed, “you like to play with fire?  Let us see how well your flesh burns!”
“As tempting as that offer sounds,” Basil said shakily, “I believe I’m going to have to pass.”  He quickly drew a wand from his belt and spoke a single word, “Switcheroo!”  In an eye-blink, Sepoto stood in the wizard’s place.  
“Surprise!” the goliath grinned.  
“Surprise indeed!” the dragon growled, and it was at that moment that Sepoto noticed the fog was gone from his eyes.  The wyrm could see him!  The dragon lunged, knocking the goliath to the ground and then leaping on him like a cat, claws ripping, wings buffeting, teeth seeking his throat.
“No!”  Samson cried.  Drawing his morningstar, he charged forward.  The dragon spun towards him, but a fraction of a second too late.  There were tears in his eyes when Samson struck the killing blow, his cudgel cracking the thick skull of his revered totem.
“Forgive me,” the dragon shaman whispered as the dragon heaved its last breath.
_________________________________________________________

The day wore on, and the company continued steadily south.  Samson was uncharacteristically quiet, and even Anwar knew better than to goad him.  They had traveled some twenty-odd miles from Dark Mountain pass, and the sun was setting.  Urol advised they make up for lost time while they still had daylight, and so they pressed onward.  The cliff road narrowed to a mere twenty feet, and rose to a height of some eighty feet above the crashing waves below.  Thrisp was on point, though his companions could barely see him as he flitted from shadow to shadow.  However, even his sharp eyes did not see the eyes that watched his party in turn.

There was no warning this time.  They were just simply there, seemingly having appeared out of thin air, though it was obvious they had swooped down silent as death.  There were five of them, grotesque, winged humanoids with horned heads and stony hides.  Before the Legionnaires and their charges knew what was happening, the gargoyles were among them.  Sepoto hissed in pain as one clamped its teeth into his shoulder.  A second one slashed Basil across the arm, while a third lowered its head and rammed into Amella with its horns.  It was chaos.  Still, the seasoned adventurers had not survived for so long by giving in to panic.  Basil was the first to get his bearings, and almost instinctively he spoke the words to a spell, rendering himself invisible.  Thus cloaked, he ducked between their attackers and got clear of the melee.  Tavey Nesk was not so fortunate.  While the boy was a true child of the street, and accustomed to evading trouble, these were much more than common street thugs.  Tavey tucked and rolled, trying to tumble between the legs of the monstrosities, but he was not fast enough.  Two of them slashed and bit at him as he passed.  When he rolled to his feet, he was pale and bleeding freely.  Desperately, he ran.

“Run Tavey, run!”  Amella called, drawing the attention of the gargoyles back to her.  The Captain was no more experienced with battling monsters than the boy, but she was no coward.  Taunting the beasts, she whirled nimbly between two of them, until she was back-to-back with Sepoto.  Samson’s lethargy from the morning seemed to drop from him in a matter of moments, only to be replaced by blind rage.  Roaring, he spat acid at two of the nearest gargoyles, causing them to recoil, shrieking.  At the same time, Sepoto wrapped his chain around the creature that had bitten him, and heaved it over his shoulder, snapping its neck as it hit the ground.

Thrisp cursed.  So much for his scouting abilities.  In any case, the Dark Lady had not chosen him for his stealth.  It was his magic that She craved, and he would prove to Her that he was worthy of Her attention.  Touching the Shadow Weave he altered the very nature of the air around the combatants, both friend and foe.  It shimmered, and rippled in a vertiginous field.  At his mental command, the effect centered most strongly upon the gargoyles.  All of them doubled over, grabbing their stomachs and retching violently.  His allies stumbled around a bit drunkenly, but they were still capable of action, unlike their opponents.  The gargoyles began to stagger for the edges of the effect, but Sepoto slashed one with his chain, whipping it like a dog as it retreated.  Still, the creature’s stone-like hide deflected the worst of the blow, and when it was free of Thrisp’s magic, its nausea fading, it glared at the little gnome and started towards him.

The remaining three gargoyles were not so fast to recover, and Samson took advantage, battering one about the head and shoulders as it heaved bile onto the ground.  At the same moment, two things happened.  First, Thrisp dodged his approaching foe easily, moving towards the battle.  As he ran, he spoke another spell, seizing the muscles of the three sickened beasts, and slowing their reflexes considerably.  They moved as if swimming through mud, languid and clumsy.  Second, Anwar brought his own magic to bear, creating a greasy slick beneath the feet of two of the unfortunate predators.  Both of them slipped and fell, landing in the middle of their own sick.  As one of them struggled to regain its feet, Samson smashed in the side of its face, and it fell back to the ground, twitching.  

Meanwhile, Thrisp’s antagonist would not be so easily foiled.  Taking to the air, it closed the distance to the gnome, snatching him up in a bear hug as it landed.  Thrisp grunted as the air was driven from his lungs, but then he heard a familiar voice nearby.
“Go limp, and trust me,” Basil said.  The gargoyle looked around, but could not see the invisible mage.  Basil spoke a single word, touched Thrisp’s arm, and whisked them both momentarily between dimensions, to reappear several dozen yard’s away.  
“Thanks,” Thrisp gasped.  “I owe you one.”
“I’ll add it to your tab,” Basil chuckled.

One of the gargoyles was outside of Anwar’s spell, and though its movements were still slowed, its nausea had faded.  It watched the battle unfolding, deciding what its next action should be.  It was then that its gaze fell on Tavey.  The wounded boy had stopped running after several yards, and now stood gasping, barely able to stand.  Grinning savagely, the gargoyle loped towards him.  Tavey heard it coming, and sobbed as he tried to avoid its charge.  Fortunately, due to the creature’s sluggish movements, he was able to do just that, lunging past it and limping back towards the group.  

Thrisp was now much closer to Tavey, thanks to Basil’s timely rescue.  He watched as Tavey tried to make his escape, but the gargoyle was turning to follow, spreading its wings.  If it went airborne, the boy would never make it.
“Not so fast,” the gnome muttered, and he began to cast, summoning his host of ghostly sentinels once more.  They began swarming around the gargoyle, and it paused, staring in confusion at them.  It raised one claw, swatting at one, but seeing its hand pass harmlessly through.  Thinking it was being tricked by some illusion, it growled, and took to the air.  It realized its mistake much too late.  Twelve sets of fists hammered into it, bypassing its rocky hide easily with their incorporeal touch.  The gargoyle crashed to the ground, buried beneath the spectral horde.

The other downed gargoyle in the oil slick surged to its feet, avoiding Sepoto’s swing as it came up and lifted into the air.  It too sensed easy prey, and made straight for Tavey.  Much to its shock and dismay, the lad was no longer then when it landed.  Instead, it faced the grinning goliath, courtesy of another timely transposition from Basil.
“Why not pick on someone your own size?” the goliath rumbled before smashing the creature into paste.

That left only one…the one who stood empty-handed after Thrisp was whisked from its grasp.  With most of the combatants scattered, no one stood between it and Amella and Anwar.  
“Behind me, my love,” Anwar shouted as it charged towards them, but Amella was too slow.  The gargoyle’s horns raked across her back as she ran.  Anwar moved to put himself in front of the gargoyle, hoping someone would notice their situation before his mock-bravery got him killed.  Fortunately, someone did, and one volley of arcane bolts later, the gargoyle lay dead, and Basil stood smiling, quite pleased with himself.
______________________________________________________

“You know, now that I think of it,” Urol said after the carcasses of the gargoyles had been dumped over the cliff and the wounded had been tended, “I do remember hearing something about an aerie of savage gargoyles just across the bay.  I think they are a fairly good-sized tribe.”
“Now you tell us?”  Amella shouted.  “You couldn’t have warned us ahead of time?  You are useless, gnome!  You are the one supposedly leading us on a safe route, and yet we seem to be running from one near-death experience to another!  It’s almost as if you’re trying to get us killed!”
Urol’s face turned bright red, and he looked indignant.  “Now see here!” he began, but Anwar quickly intervened.
“I think we are all a bit overwrought from this day, and it’s time we rested.  Sleep and food will clear our heads.  Things will look brighter in the morning.”  He smiled warmly at Amella.  “I guarantee it!”

The night did indeed pass uneventfully, but when the company emerged from their shelter with the dawn, they found a disquieting sight.  All about their campsite were dozens of bird carcasses.  Each one was tied, wings outstretched and head to the ground on an X-shaped frame.  Anwar recognized the effigy as a representation of Maztican crucifixion.


----------



## theredrobedwizard

Good times, that sounded.  Too bad about the goblin getting grappled for the fortieth time, though.  Also, he's a Black-Dragon shaman?  For some reason, I'd not caught on to that.

-TRRW


----------



## Need_A_Life

Seems like the Legion is an unstoppable force in combat!

Those gargoyles didn't even kill a single one... I'm disappointed...
...then again, they're under-CR'ed...
...that doesn't make them any less cool, though   

Great writing, JD!


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> Good times, that sounded.  Too bad about the goblin getting grappled for the fortieth time, though.  Also, he's a Black-Dragon shaman?  For some reason, I'd not caught on to that.
> 
> -TRRW




He is actually a Green Dragon Shaman but he Loves all Dragons


----------



## theredrobedwizard

Ah.  That explains that, then.  I understand the whole "dragon shaman loving all dragons" thing, but I was a bit confused by the wording of one of the summary points.



> We meet one of Samson's "patrons" and the shaman falls to his knees in supplication.




Made it sound like you ran into his specific patron dragon; which would be much more terrible.

-TRRW


----------



## Zaruthustran

Awesome update! So fun.

What's that ghostly sentinel spell? Seems to be quite potent!

-z


----------



## JollyDoc

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Awesome update! So fun.
> 
> What's that ghostly sentinel spell? Seems to be quite potent!
> 
> -z




It's called Legion of Sentinels.  Not sure what book is from.  Dick and Jane's Big Book of Cheese?  Anyway, it creates a ten foot diameter area of incorporeal warriors (roughly 12 of them).  They can take no actions except for AOO's.  So, if you are in the midst of them and do anything to provoke an AOO, they all get to pound you with their incorporeal, touch-attack fists.  Not sure of the damage, but twelve hits would do most critters in.


----------



## Hammerhead

PHB2. Sadly, it leaves out what the spell actually does in the text.


----------



## carborundum

I was looking this up myself a while ago - found this answer on the Wizards site

The swordsmen’s attacks are at a bonus equal to your caster level, they threaten critical hits on a 19 or 20, and they deal 1d8 points of slashing damage +1 per three caster levels (max +5). They only make attacks of opportunity, and their weapon damage is slashing and is affected by damage reduction.​


----------



## carborundum

Thanks JD for another great update. I must have been checking twice a day for updates on this SH! Great characters and fantastic writing - cheers!


----------



## Need_A_Life

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> It's called Legion of Sentinels.  Not sure what book is from.  Dick and Jane's Big Book of Cheese?  Anyway, it creates a ten foot diameter area of incorporeal warriors (roughly 12 of them).  They can take no actions except for AOO's.  So, if you are in the midst of them and do anything to provoke an AOO, they all get to pound you with their incorporeal, touch-attack fists.  Not sure of the damage, but twelve hits would do most critters in.



Even my (former) DM would say no to that...
even if he doesn't really get the AoO rules...
except for unarmed strikes provoking one...


----------



## theredrobedwizard

I've never understood everyone's difficulty with AoOs.  They're rather easy to understand.  Leaving a threatened square? Performing any actions listed in the AoO chart? You get attacked.  Most other times, not so much.

Anyway, again, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Anwar for being an awesome character; with the player's blessing, he'll be showing up as an NPC when I get around to running Savage Tide.  I believe he'll take the place of Avner or some other useless NPC on the Sea Wyvern; so there'll be a cool one.

-TRRW


----------



## Joachim

carborundum said:
			
		

> I was looking this up myself a while ago - found this answer on the Wizards site
> 
> The swordsmen’s attacks are at a bonus equal to your caster level, they threaten critical hits on a 19 or 20, and they deal 1d8 points of slashing damage +1 per three caster levels (max +5). They only make attacks of opportunity, and their weapon damage is slashing and is affected by damage reduction.​




Yeah...this is the Custserv ruling, and what I had been using, except that I didn't remember the part about the attacks being subject to damage reduction.  I went ahead and looked it up again this week after Sunday's sesssion because I was pretty sure that as a spell it should penetrate DR, but I wasn't 100% (this is one of the places where Wizards contradicts themselves) and I wanted to make sure that we did it right from this point forward.  In any case, based on this ruling it shouldn't have been able to penetrate the gargoyle's DR.  Still, it's a very good 3rd level spell, but really no more powerful than fireball.

Sorry about that one JD...just replace that gargoyle's death with a Deep Slumber / Coup de Grace.


----------



## JollyDoc

Joachim said:
			
		

> In any case, based on this ruling it shouldn't have been able to penetrate the gargoyle's DR.  Still, it's a very good 3rd level spell, but really no more powerful than fireball.
> 
> Sorry about that one JD...just replace that gargoyle's death with a Deep Slumber / Coup de Grace.





The gargoyle was slowed and near death at the time.  One round later it would have either been Sepoto meat, or magic missiled into oblivion.  It may have gotten off one more attack on Tavey, but hey...I kind of like the kid.  He's the little brother Sepoto never wanted.


----------



## JollyDoc

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> Anyway, again, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Anwar for being an awesome character; with the player's blessing, he'll be showing up as an NPC when I get around to running Savage Tide.  I believe he'll take the place of Avner or some other useless NPC on the Sea Wyvern; so there'll be a cool one.
> 
> -TRRW





God!  Say it ain't so!  Another of G's PC's rises to nationwide NPC status!  The new Ebon Triad is going to be Entropy, Faust and Anwar...


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Thanks JD for another great update. I must have been checking twice a day for updates on this SH! Great characters and fantastic writing - cheers!




Thanks!  I'm really enjoying this.  I can't wait for this week when the Blair Witch is finally revealed!!

Also thanks to whomever it was that posted Avner's unique elimination on the Paizo boards.  I was surprised, and flattered to see it there!


----------



## carborundum

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Thanks!  I'm really enjoying this.  I can't wait for this week when the Blair Witch is finally revealed!!




Nor I! Get typing/ DM-ing! 

*deletes spoiler-like stuff to do with Blair Witch knowledge from the AP, cackles manically and goes to do the shopping*


----------



## Need_A_Life

> od! Say it ain't so! Another of G's PC's rises to nationwide NPC status! The new Ebon Triad is going to be Entropy, Faust and Anwar...



Bah... who needs the Ebon Triad...

Besides, as I understand it, Faust was defeated by Kyuss, Entropy was killed by a goblin (or something, I've never seen the SH only heard people talk about it) and Anwar is a bard... hardly things of ultimate DOOOM.

Entropy was cool in Shackled City, though...


----------



## JollyDoc

Need_A_Life said:
			
		

> Bah... who needs the Ebon Triad...
> 
> Entropy was killed by a goblin





Let's get our story straight.  It was a kobold...a blind kobold


----------



## Need_A_Life

I plead innocent by virtue of not having read it myself!

I'm just repeating the mistakes of others!

Or rather...   

Now... I can see being killed by a kobold (especially after Races of the Dragon came out, though I assume this is before that), but a blind one? That's just... I can't find a word to describe it, but it would have to be able to have the word "excrutiatingly" before it.

A blind kobold? JollyDoc, you must be the Evil of All Evils (aka the DM) behind that slaughter. Will you share more of this tale (or give me a link to the SH, if any?)


----------



## gfunk

Need_A_Life said:
			
		

> A blind kobold? JollyDoc, you must be the Evil of All Evils (aka the DM) behind that slaughter. Will you share more of this tale (or give me a link to the SH, if any?)




Of course, people never tell the real story behind this little incident.  Perhaps the fact that the Kobold in question had, oh, I don't know *18 levels of Fighter* and a *Half-Dragon template* had something to do with it?  Naww . . . probably not. 

Linkage:
1. Our first story hour (City of the Spider Queen --> Bastion of Broken Souls --> Lich Queen's Beloved)
http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?t=33249

2. The relevant kobold encounter
http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showpost.php?p=995046&postcount=49

Some choice passages,


> Nurn laughed out loud, “A kobold!! The mighty Nalavara must rely on a weakling kobold to defend her lair!”
> 
> Stopping for a moment, the slaad manifested one of his most powerful abilities and instantly struck Po blind.






> Entropy pelted the half-dragons with elemental magic but was surprised by the blind kobold at her side. With uncanny precision, the small figher stabbed her repeatedly despite the considerable natural amor her Balor form provided. Quickly, the Alienist began to feel light-headed from blood loss. She changed into a Pit Fiend, hopeful that its regenerative properties would save her from death.
> 
> After taking Entropy down, Po listened carefully for the status of his companions.




And the teaser . . .



> As Entropy and Nurn lay in bloody heaps, the party fought hard against their remaining foes. But the question remained,
> 
> Could they take down the blind kobold before it was too late?




BTW TRRW, feel free to use Anway to torment your NPCs.  I'll stat him out for you at any level you'd like.


----------



## Joachim

Just to keep this thread moving, Thrisp levelled last week.  Yay!

*Thrisp Doogal CR 8*
Male lesser svirfneblin Beguiler 7 / Shadow Adept 1
NE Medium humanoid (gnome)
*Init +2*; *Senses* low-light vision; darkvision; Listen +2, Spot +0
*Languages* Common, Gnome, Abyssal, Infernal, Undercommon, Maztican
----------------------------------
*AC* 19, touch 14, flat-footed 16
(+2 Dex, +5 armor, +1 size, +1 dodge)
*hp* 45 (8 HD)
*Fort* +6, *Ref* +5, *Will* +8; +2 racial bonus against spells and spell-like effects
----------------------------------
*Speed* 30 ft. (6 squares)
*Ranged* Light Crossbow +6 (1d6) 
*Space* 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. 
*Base Atk* +3; Grp -2
*Combat Gear* 13 potion of _cure light wounds_, potion of _cure moderate wounds_, potion of _expeditious retreat_, potion of _cat's grace_, 4 scrolls of _silent image_, 3 scrolls of _open/close_, scroll of _hold monster_, 30 light crossbow bolts, 14 masterwork crossbow bolts

*Beguiler Spells* (DC = 15 + spell level, 16 + spell level for enchantment/charm, 19 + spell level for illusions)
     4th (4/day) Standard for beguiler, plus _shadow well_ (Advanced Learning)
     3rd (5/day) Standard for beguiler
     2nd (7/day) Standard for beguiler
     1st (7/day) Standard for beguiler plus _net of shadows_ (Advanced Learning)
     0 (6/day) Standard for beguiler, minus _light_ and _dancing lights_ 
*Spell Like Abilities* (1/day)
_Resistance_, _Daze_, _Lullaby_, _Prestidigitation_, _Ghost Sound_, _Speak with Animals _ (burrowing mammals only)
----------------------------------
*Abilities* Str 8, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 14

*SQ* +1 to hit goblinoids and kobolds, +1 racial bonus to Illusion DC's, Stonecunning, +2 to Hide Checks, increases to +4 underground (+2 considered in stats below), trapfinding, Surprise Casting, Cloaked Casting (+1 to DC) 

*Feats* Academy Graduate (Diplomacy, Disable Device, and Use Magic Device) [Bonus District Feat], Darkstalker, Greater Spell Focus (Illusion), Insidious Magic, Pernicious Magic, Shadow Weave Magic, Silent Spell, Spell Focus (Illusion), Tenacious Magic
*Flaw* Noncombatant
*Trait* Quick

*Skills* Bluff +13, Concentration +19, Craft (Alchemy) +7, Diplomacy +15 (+17 in Tashluta), Disable Device +18, Hide +26 (+28 when underground), Knowledge (arcana) +13, Knowledge (history) +7, Knowledge (nobility) +7, Move Silently +20, Open Lock +5, Search +23, Spellcraft +17, Swim +1, Use Magic Device +5 (+7 for scrolls)

*Possessions* combat gear plus +1 _shadow_ mithril shirt with attached keel, headband of intellect+2, goggles of minute seeing, vest of resistance +1, boots of elvenkind, belt of steady spellcasting, masterwork tools (hide, move silently, and search), masterwork thieves' tools, spell component pouch, Spire of Tashluta (+2 to Diplomacy and Gather Information in Tashluta), short sword, swimming goggles, forestwarden's shroud, 2 Auran masks, Bat Idol key
----------------------------------
*Hook* "I could tell you the truth, or I could tell you a lie, and you wouldn't know the difference.  So...which would you prefer to hear today?"


----------



## gfunk

*Sunday Night Update*

1. The Blair Witch shenaningans continue, including a "rock" slide of human skulls and a Mastichan suicide.  Amella & Tavey are particularly freaked out by the last one.  To calm their jangled nerves, Anwar arranges his own Mastichan suicide.

2. We meet the King of the Gargoyles, complete with crown and all.  He and his posse get pw8ned.

3. Exiting the mountains at last we enter the fogmire and are promptly lost.

4. As we are making small talk with a Zombie the Blair Witch makes an appearance with his homies.  While one of them makes off with a gnome (too many in the party anway) your faithful narrator is ripped in half by the head honcho.  Ouch.


----------



## carborundum

gfunk said:
			
		

> *Sunday Night Update*
> 
> ... your faithful narrator is ripped in half by the head honcho.  Ouch.




Yikes! 

(Call in sick at work, JD, we need the full story!)


----------



## Schmoe

gfunk said:
			
		

> *Sunday Night Update*
> 
> 1. The Blair Witch shenaningans continue, including a "rock" slide of human skulls and a Mastichan suicide.  Amella & Tavey are particularly freaked out by the last one.  To calm their jangled nerves, Anwar arranges his own Mastichan suicide.




Interesting.  I'm very curious about this one.



> 2. We meet the King of the Gargoyles, complete with crown and all.  He and his posse get pw8ned.
> 
> 3. Exiting the mountains at last we enter the fogmire and are promptly lost.
> 
> 4. As we are making small talk with a Zombie the Blair Witch makes an appearance with his homies.  While one of them makes off with a gnome (too many in the party anway) your faithful narrator is ripped in half by the head honcho.  Ouch.




Wow.  It sounds like there was pw8nination on both sides of the table last night.  That "Blair Witch" is a bad, bad man.  Hopefully Anwar will return.  I was really looking forward to seeing him in action when (if) the party reaches Farshore.


----------



## JollyDoc

A couple of more teaser exerpts:

One party member dead and one missing, the rest of the Legion go in search of their kidnapped companion, only to find themselves at a shrine to a certain demon lord.  Which path to take?  One rockslide later, and our favorite whipping boy wizard finds himself all alone as all of his friends are buried beneath 2000 pounds of rock!!!


----------



## Need_A_Life

Weee!!!!

Looking forward to the update with (hardly restrained) eager!


----------



## Zaruthustran

Is this business with the gargoyles and the blair witch actually in the Savage Tide? Or is is an original side adventure?


----------



## Zaruthustran

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Also thanks to whomever it was that posted Avner's unique elimination on the Paizo boards.  I was surprised, and flattered to see it there!




Hmmm? Link, please!


----------



## JollyDoc

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Hmmm? Link, please!




Oh, the gargoyles are definately a part of the adventure, and the "Blair Witch" is absolutely central to this particular adventure, and an important part of the overarching plot line.

Here is the link...but be advised, there are spoilers here, so at least for my players, it's off-limits  

http://paizo.com/dungeon/messageboards/savageTide/avnersAssassinationAnyoneNOSPOILERS


----------



## theredrobedwizard

Waiting with bated breath, man.  I can hardly stand the excitement.

Also, if I'm reading this correctly, there's a bard that needs reincarnated as a Bugbear... or possibly an Aasimar.

-TRRW


----------



## Schmoe

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> Waiting with bated breath, man.  I can hardly stand the excitement.
> 
> Also, if I'm reading this correctly, there's a bard that needs reincarnated as a Bugbear goblin... or possibly an Aasimar a kobold.
> 
> -TRRW




Fixed it for you.


----------



## JollyDoc

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> Waiting with bated breath, man.  I can hardly stand the excitement.
> 
> Also, if I'm reading this correctly, there's a bard that needs reincarnated as a Bugbear... or possibly an Aasimar.
> 
> -TRRW




A work in progress.  With any luck, will have it up tonight.  Wife's away for weekend, so I can work undisturbed


----------



## JollyDoc

DEATH IN FOGMIRE

“Someone’s just trying to rattle us,” Anwar said as he examined one of the crucifixes.  “Don’t concern yourselves,” he continued, turning to the castaways but locking eyes with Amella, “Anyone who would have to rely on such parlor tricks is obviously trying to compensate for something.  Let’s keep moving.”

The day passed without further incident, but as the sun began to set, the path ahead came to an abrupt end, looking out over the bay.  Nearly sixty feet above, it continued along its southern route.  A bamboo platform hung near the upper path’s edge, suspended by several vines draped over a log driven into the cliff face above.  The other ends of the vines hung down the cliff face and were attached to a second log at waist height on the lower ledge.  Down below, a dozen or so abandoned huts lined a wide but rocky beach.

“This has bad idea written all over it,” Anwar said, looking up at the dangling platform suspiciously.  
“I agree,” Thrisp nodded.  “I’ll go up and take a look.”
Weaving a quick spell, the gnome began scaling the cliff wall, spider-like, keeping to the shadows.  When he reached the upper ledge, he looked about quickly, but saw nothing suspicious, so he turned his attention to the lift.  At first glance, it appeared sound, but as he lowered his goggles to his eyes and examined it closely, he saw that several of the support vines had been cut almost completely through.  The cuts were recent.  Hastily, he made his way back down.
“Sabotaged,” he reported once he’d reached the lower path.
“Our unseen friend again, no doubt,” Anwar said in disgust.  “These nuisances are weak and tiresome.  Looks like we’ll have to get up by other means.”

Thrisp ascended the way he had before, while Basil cast a spell of flight upon Sepoto, and the big goliath then shuttled the rest of the group up two at a time.  It was almost full dark by the time they had all reached the upper path, and so they made camp for the night.
_____________________________________________________________

It was their fourth day out of Dark Mountain Pass when they saw the native kill himself.  The day had been uneventful, almost pleasant, when ahead on the path they saw a man dressed in Maztican garb standing on the cliff’s edge.  As they drew near, he drew a dagger from his belt, stabbed himself in the chest, and then flung himself into the bay.  When they reached the spot from which he’d jumped, there was no trace of his body on the rocks below.
“Why’d he go and do that, Sepoto?”  Tavey seemed on the verge of tears.  “Why?  Huh?  Why?”
Amella was calm, but Anwar could see in her eyes that she was just as disturbed by what she’d seen as the boy was.  Urol, for once, was at a loss for words.
“It’s another trick,” Anwar said reassuringly.  “Don’t you see?  Whoever is behind this wants us to panic, let our guard down.  Here, let me show you.”  
The bard drew a scroll from his pack, and read the arcane words written on it.  When he had finished, another Maztican suddenly materialized out of thin air.  At Anwar’s command, he danced a little jig, and then threw himself over the side of the cliff.  Amella gasped, until Anwar pointed out that there was no corpse below.
“An illusion,” he explained.  “A simple one at that.”  He leaned towards Amella conspiratorially and whispered, “The kind most gnomes can accomplish from birth.”  
The Captain glared at Urol when she heard this, but the little druid seemed oblivious, distracted as he was by a strange growth of shelf fungi on the cliff face.

Though Anwar’s display calmed their fears, Tavey and Amella continued to glance around constantly as they continued their trek, flinching at every odd sound.  Thus it happened that it was they who first saw the gargoyles approaching.  There were five of them, the largest of which wore a stone crown upon his brow.
“There they are!”  Basil heard them shout in their guttural tongue.  “Leave none of them alive!”
The gargoyles dove towards the company, completely ignoring Thrisp, who had been scouting ahead, and was concealed in a shadowy cave opening several yards away.  As they closed, the beguiler stepped from hiding and hurled his magic at the leader and the two directly behind him.  Instantly, their eyes clouded over in confusion and they hesitated in their descent.  Unfortunately, Marius was already casting as well, and as his fireball engulfed the same three gargoyles, plus one more trailing, the confusion faded from their eyes, replaced by blind hatred.

The other members of the group began to scatter.  Anwar and Basil both faded under invisibility spells, while Urol darted forward towards Thrisp, making for the shelter of the cave.  Amella began running back the way they had come, dragging Tavey behind her.  At that moment, the gargoyles reached the ledge.  The crowned one was foremost, diving straight for Marius.  As he passed Sepoto, the goliath swung at him, but his chain only left a faint scratch.  It was as if he’d struck iron.  The gargoyle leaped at Marius, and as it drew back its arm, both the crown and its clawed hand flashed with light.  When the blow struck the war mage, it sent him hurtling back against the cliff wall, momentarily dazed.  Fortunately for the gnome, the leader standing over him effectively blocked the other two maddened gargoyles clamoring to get at him.  

The two remaining gargoyles decided that gnomes made easy prey.  One swooped after the fleeing Urol, narrowly missing him as he ducked into the cave, while the second one charged towards Thrisp.  At a spoken word from the beguiler, however, the brute came up short as a series of mirror images of Thrisp sprang into view.  Enraged, the gargoyle swiped randomly at one, causing it to dissipate into shimmering fragments.  Thrisp only smiled as another one popped in to take its place.

Sepoto whirled towards the gargoyle king, planted his feet firmly, and focused his mind.  Drawing power from the very stone he stood upon, the goliath whirled his chain like a scythe, and when it struck, it cut through the gargoyle’s skin like butter.  Then, from the cliff’s edge, Basil suddenly appeared as a ball of fire sprang from his hand, detonating behind the three gargoyles.  Simultaneously, Marius shook his head clear, summoned the Weave and promptly immolated all three of his attackers.  Sepoto deftly caught the crown as it fell, and placed it upon his own brow.  

Thrisp strolled almost casually past his assailant, grinning as the dim wit struck in futility at his mirages.  He called out to the gargoyle trying to force its way into the small cave in which Urol hid, “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”  
He spoke another spell, and as he did so, the gargoyle’s own shadow seemed to come to life, seizing it from behind and drawing it into itself.  With a shriek, the creature vanished.
“What in the…?”  Urol marveled, astounded by his kinsman’s mastery of the Weave.  

The last gargoyle gave up its fruitless attempts at Thrisp, and instead focused on Basil, who stood conveniently right at the edge of the cliff.  As it closed, however, Sepoto moved in front of it, slamming it with his chain.  The brute tumbled to the ground, and as it tried to rise, a barrage of arcane fire from Basil and Marius put it down for good.  At that moment, the gargoyle Thrisp had banished suddenly reappeared, but its gray skin was almost ashen, and a look of abject terror was on its face.  Scrambling to its feet, it took to the air, soaring out across the bay and vanishing in the distance.

“What exactly did you do?” Anwar asked as he watched the gargoyle flee.
“I sent it away for a short visit to a land of its worst nightmares,” the beguiler smiled.  
Anwar nodded in approval.  He didn’t know what had come over the gnome, but he approved.  He most definitely approved.
_______________________________________________________

The next three days of the journey saw the company unmolested or hindered, save for a brief episode in which a small rockslide turned out to be comprised of skulls.  More trickery, Anwar reassured his companions, but his cheerful attitude was becoming less and less infectious.

Near the end of the sixth day from Dark Mountain Pass, the group came to a crossroads.  A narrow pass led through the cliffs to their right towards the interior of the island, while the cliff road continued on south.  Urol marked the pass on his map, but urged the companions to maintain their present course, arguing that it would take them to Tanaroa in a more roundabout way, but ultimately safer.  They heeded his advice, but after traveling only a short distance more, the road came to an end.  Whether the elements had eroded it away completely, or the ancients simply never completed it was unclear, but it was obvious that they had no choice.  They would have to backtrack to the pass and head deeper into the Isle of Dread.

It took them most of the following day to make their way through the rough terrain of twisting rock canyons.  When the pass finally came to an end, they found themselves on the edge of a great and dark, fog-shrouded jungle.  A lake glittered far off in the distance, barely visible through the gloom.  They began their descent, entering the thick canopy with its strange bird calls and leaves dripping with condensation.  An inordinate amount of small snakes slithered across the jungle floor, but they rapidly vanished from sight as the group approached.  As the day wore on towards evening, the fog grew thicker, and the ground became wet and muddy, verging on swampland in places.  Many of the animals and plants they began to see were deformed in some way, either off-color, or bloated with twitching growths.  For a moment, they were reminded of the savage creatures they had encountered at Kraken Cove, but these beasts did not seem hostile.  

Nightfall rapidly encroached, and Urol shouted, “Aha!” as the game trail they had been following opened into a clearing.  The ground was relatively dry, but they had clearly stumbled upon the ancient ruins of a village.  The crumbling, moss-covered walls were made of simple stone blocks, and they bore no designs or patterns, unlike other Maztican architecture they had seen before.  An empty fire pit sat in the center of the remains, and it was there that they happened upon a truly chilling sight.  A crude wooden frame stood near the fire pit in the shape of an “X.”  Bound upside down to it was the corpse of a Maztican man, his legs high in the air.  There was a gaping wound in the center of his chest.  Slowly they approached, all save for Amella, Tavey and Urol.  Anwar was immediately suspicious of more theatrics, and he was not disappointed when the corpse suddenly opened its eyes and began to speak.
“Welcome to my home, travelers,” it said in Common.  “I, who was Golnura, bid you welcome.  You come a long way only to stay here forever.  At least you live.  That is good for now.  My home is your home, now and forever.”
Anwar smirked.  “I suppose you have been left here by our stalker in hopes of frightening us like small children.”
“The Master of Fogmire killed me.  He placed me here as both promise and warning,” Golnura answered. 
“Who is this Master?”  Anwar asked sarcastically.  “What does he look like?”
“You will know soon enough,” the corpse replied.  “I have forgotten what it is like to be alive.  Can you tell me?”
“It’s perfectly lovely,” Anwar sneered.  “Too bad for you that you can’t enjoy it any longer.”
“That’s ok,” Golnura smiled gruesomely.  “Soon, you will know what it is like to be dead.”
Anwar sighed and shrugged his shoulders.  “Enough of this.  I have a message for your master.”  He drew a dirk from his belt, and bent forward, etching words into the chest of the zombie.  Amella’s face showed disgust, and she looked away, covering Tavey’s eyes.  When the bard was finished, Thrisp and the others examined his handiwork.  ‘I love your work,’ the message read.
“You will have your chance to prove that,” Golnura said flatly.
“Let’s go,” Anwar said, turning the others.
“Go?”  Urol asked, alarm in his eyes.  “It’s getting dark!  We shouldn’t be traveling in the jungle at night.”
“We won’t go far,” Anwar reassured him.  “Just away from here.”

They left the ruins behind, continuing along the game trail.  It wasn’t long before the trail opened again into another clearing…only it became abundantly clear when they entered that they had been there before.  They were back at the ruins.  Golnura smiled at them from his crucifix.
“Welcome back travelers.  Did I not tell you that my home is now your home?”
Anwar felt anger overcoming him.  He had tried to be nonchalant for the sake of appearances, but he was already tired of this damned island and its never ending series of monstrous inhabitants.  None of this was part of his plan.  He had anticipated accompanying Lavinia to her parent’s colony, helping her to make it into a thriving trade port, and thereby reaping both the financial and political rewards that would most surely follow.  ‘Lord’ Anwar had a certain ring to it.  Yet here he was, stuck in the middle of this cesspool, being taunted by a smart-mouthed corpse, and being stalked by a fool who thought himself mysterious.
“Show yourself!” the bard shouted, startling his companions, who all stared at him as if he’d gone mad.  “We tire of your games!  If you are so mighty and nefarious, then lets us meet face-to-face!”
For a moment, there was only silence, which was broken a moment later by Basil’s sharp intake of breath.  The wizard had taken the time on the voyage to research a spell that permanently imbued his eyes with the ability to detect magical auras.  Three such auras had just suddenly appeared in the clearing with them, one right next to Anwar.
“I think he’s here,” Basil whispered.

Anwar barely had time to register what he was seeing, much less what was happening.  From out of nowhere, the beast appeared.  It looked like nothing so much as a powerfully muscled ape, with tusk-like fangs and six digits on each hand and foot, yet the cruelty that burned in its rheumy, red eyes signaled a hateful intelligence.  It was on the bard in a heartbeat, springing at him from ten feet away.  Teeth and claws ripped and tore, a bloody haze filling the air.  It was over almost as quickly as it began.  Anwar lay on the ground at the base of the crucifixion, his eyes fixed and staring, his throat ripped to shreds.  His murderer stood over him, heaving with exertion, blood dripping from its mouth and nails.  The sound of Golnura’s laughter was drowned out by the shrill screams of Amella.

Basil was in shock.  It was a demon.  A bar-igura demon.  They were often used as scouts and enforcers for more powerful demons, yet they were powerful enough in their own right, as evidenced by what this one had just done to Anwar.  Almost reflexively, the wizard  spoke the words to a spell, vanishing from view.  He prayed that he only imagined that the demon was still staring at him.

The bar-igura turned away from the wizard.  The demon could still see him plainly, though the tiefling obviously thought himself hidden.  No matter.  His mates would deal with the mortal.  Olangru preferred a challenge.  His eyes fixed on the goblin.  The so-called dragon shaman.  Him first, then the goliath.  Rushing forward on all fours, he leaped at the goblin, bearing him to the ground under his weight.  The little rat raised his arms in a pitiful attempt to ward him off, but Olangru could smell his fear.  He threw back his head and roared his triumph as he prepared to disembowel the goblin, but in that moment, something seized him from behind…something whose strength rivaled his own.  He turned, and to his total confusion, found himself staring at his own shadow.  It surged towards him, wrapping itself completely around him, and he knew only darkness.

Thrisp stood panting, both from the exertion of his hastily cast spell, and from the adrenaline pulsing through him.  Whatever that thing was, it had just brutalized their party.  To add insult to injury, his spell would only hold it for a few moments, and then it would be back…probably angrier.  

Basil was confused.  Thrisp had banished the bar-igura, yet he could still sense other magical auras in the vicinity.  He needed to get to safety, so that he could survey the area and pinpoint the sources.  He wove another spell, allowing him to fly, and jumped into the air.  As he did so, however, a second demon appeared.  Though smaller, it was no less ferocious.  It ripped at him with its claws as he took to the sky.  Quickly, he put distance between himself and it, but he was bleeding badly.  He couldn’t seem to focus his thoughts.

Back down below, the demon howled at its escaping prey, but then quickly turned its attention to the other victims in its vicinity, namely Thrisp.  Snarling, it rushed towards the gnome, but as it did, Sepoto whipped his chain out, catching the beast around the ankle.  Pulling with all his strength, he tried to yank its legs from under it, but the demon proved stronger.  Howling furiously, it pulled back, tugging Sepoto completely off balance, and sending him tumbling to the ground.  Snorting in satisfaction, it turned back to Thrisp.  To its frustration, there were now several wavering images of the gnome where only one had stood before.  It pounced, ripping two of the images to shreds, and then, by sheer luck, sinking its teeth into the real beguiler.

Samson slowly pulled himself to his feet, Urol offering his hand in assistance.  Amella was still wailing, and Tavey appeared torn between fleeing in terror, and running to Sepoto’s aid.  Yet the little druid had stood his ground.  Samson opened his mouth to speak his gratitude, but then his eyes went wide.  A third demon had appeared, and it was standing right behind Urol!  Wickedly fast, it engulfed the gnome’s head in one paw, and then in an instant, it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, taking the druid with it.
____________________________________________________________

Olangru looked about at his surroundings.  He was in some sort of negative-image version of the ruins he had just been standing in.  There was no color, only shades of gray and black.  The ruins looked, if anything, even more degraded than the real ones.  None of his victims were present, nor were his mates, but he was not alone.  Shades and shadows danced and cavorted just at the edge of his vision, but when he turned that way, they vanished.  Whispers and echoes sounded all about him.  This must be where the beguiler had sent the gargoyle, he reasoned.  He had watched the gnome’s trick and been slightly impressed, but now he truly understood its magnitude.  Still, he also knew that the gargoyle had eventually returned, and so would he, he assumed.  Best to be prepared then.  Calling upon his own innate magics, he rendered himself invisible once more, then created an exact duplicate illusion of himself.  He then settled down to wait, but as he did so the shades continued to taunt and tease him.  Despite his knowledge that they could do him no harm, he felt himself becoming unnerved nonetheless.
__________________________________________________________

Sepoto leaped to his feet and ran at the remaining demon as it continued to dismantle Thrisp’s illusions.  As he closed, he saw the beguiler spread his fingers in a fan-shape, and a spray of color washed over the bar-igura.  It rubbed at its eyes in confusion for a moment, then just stood there, staring blankly into space, a thin ribbon of drool dripping from its slack jaw.  Sepoto didn’t waste the opportunity.  Summoning all his marshal prowess, he braced himself, and then wove a quick incantation around his chain, causing the individual spikes to seem to lengthen and become even more hooked.  Then he struck.  The chain wrapped around the demon twice before he ripped it free, peeling a large part of its hide away at the same time.  A moment later Marius and Basil were both casting, bombarding the bar-igura with arcane missiles and scorching rays of flame.  The creature never made a sound.  It simply toppled to its side, twitched once, and was still.

“We don’t have much time!”  Thrisp shouted.  “The big one will be back any moment.  We have to get ready.  Amella!”  He stood in front of the sea captain, who still held Anwar’s broken form in her lap, sobbing uncontrollably.  “Get hold of yourself!  You have to take Tavey and get clear.  Now!  You can’t do anything for him, but if you don’t do as I say, you will surely join him.”  
Amella looked at him uncomprehending for a moment, but then the familiar spark returned to her eyes, and she nodded, her lips compressed into a thin, pale line.  Standing, she took Tavey’s hand and hauled the terrified boy behind the cover of a nearby wall.  Meanwhile, both Thrisp and Basil took a moment to cast spells upon themselves that would allow them to see the unseen.  Finally, Thrisp conjured another rippling field of vertigo around the area where he knew the bar-igura would return.  The others closed in…and waited.

It happened in the space between heartbeats.  One moment there was nothing, and the next the bar-igura was there, pale and retching.  Samson immediately breathed his acidic breath upon the demon, the virulent spray clinging to it like a second skin, yet causing no apparent harm to it.  Simultaneously, Marius unleashed another pair of fiery beams…only to watch them pass right through the creature.  It was then that he realized they’d been tricked.  It was an illusion.  
“It’s not real!” he shouted to the others.  “Don’t believe what your eyes tell you!”
Basil could see that Marius was telling the truth, for he saw both the invisible form of the bar-igura, and the image as well.  Thrisp saw the same, and when Sepoto peered more closely at the demon, he found that it was faintly transparent.  It was then that Thrisp wove another spell, filling the air around the fiend with glittering motes.  These settled upon the true form of Olangru, outlining his body for all to see.  At that moment, the bar-igura began rising into the air.
“It’s trying to flee!”  Thrisp shouted.  “Stop it!”
Basil tried, engulfing the demon in a ball of flames, only to see it emerge almost completely unscathed.  Sepoto tried as well, hammering at it with his chain.  He could see that he had wounded it, but not nearly enough.  Olangru continued to rise until he was clear of the vertigo field, and then he disappeared.

Sepoto looked around at the devastation wrought by the brief but violent conflict.  He could scarcely believe that Anwar was really dead.  Though he never really cared for the bard, he had earned a grudging respect from the crusader for his silver tongue, if nothing else.  The others were just as stunned.  Not only was Anwar gone, but Urol was missing as well, taken who-knew-where.  Amella came out of hiding and walked stoically back to Anwar’s side.  As she knelt beside him again, Golnura chuckled.  
“Don’t worry, pretty one.  You’ll be with him soon.”
Sepoto struck a torch alight and calmly went to the zombie and set him on fire.
__________________________________________________________

They built a pyre for Anwar in the fire pit, and Sepoto spoke one of Savras’ blessings over his remains.  Amella then lit the pyre, and they stood in silence as it burned, each lost in their own thoughts.  They had no choice but to camp in the ruins, hoping that the dawn would bring new perspective.

Basil slept poorly that night, his dreams tormented by terrible visions of demon-haunted jungles and ocean.  When he awoke the next morning, he was momentarily filled with the urge to seek out a hidden shrine to a demon prince that he seemed to know was somewhere nearby.  He wanted to offer himself up as a sacrifice.  The urge passed quickly, but the direction in which he knew the shrine to lay tugged at him nevertheless.
“I think I know where Urol is,” he told his companions once he’d composed his thoughts.

Having no other viable options, the small band set off into the jungle-swamp once more, this time allowing Basil to take the lead.  After a few hours of grueling heat and biting insects, the jungle and the oppressive fog thinned before a low hill.  Above, a large spire of black rock loomed, while at the hill’s base, the image of two gigantic fanged baboon heads carved into the rock leered out at the wilderness.  Their gaping maws revealed two caves that lead into darkness.

“This looks like the place,” Thrisp said dryly, but no one found any humor in his statement of the obvious.
“I won’t go in there,” Amella said, her face going pale, “and I won’t let ye take the boy either.”
Basil turned on her, a look of malice on his young features.  “Listen closely!  Anwar’s not here to protect you any more, so you’d better just get used to…”
“Enough!”  Thrisp snapped, his tone commanding the tiefling’s attention.  “She and Tavey can remain here.  They’d be more of a liability to us anyway.  Cast your rope trick so that they won’t have to worry about predators.  If we’re not back by the time the spell expires,” he continued, turning to Amella, “I’m afraid you’re on your own.  If there is truly no escape from this place, you might want to consider your options carefully.”
Amella nodded, understanding the implication clearly.  She glared at Basil, and spat on the ground at his feet.

Once Tavey and Amella were secure, the five Legionnaires looked at the twin caves, trying to decide which path to take.
“You know the old saying,” Samson shrugged, “Evil always lies to the left.”  
Left they chose, finding themselves in a natural passage, the walls carved with a band of leering, demonic monkey faces at waist height.  The cave smelled strongly of wet fur and sulphur, and the air was heavy and damp.  Thrisp went first, scouting as always.  He was followed by Samson and Sepoto, with Basil and Marius bringing up the rear.  They had traveled barely twenty feet down the passage, when suddenly the entire ceiling overhead gave way.  Tons of rock and debris came crashing down, filling the air with choking, blinding dust.  When Basil finally cleared his eyes enough to see again, none of his companions were in sight.  He was standing up to his waist in debris, and the entire corridor ahead was completely blocked.
“Sepoto!” he called.  “Thrisp!  Marius!  Samson!”  For a moment there was silence, but then, faintly, as if from a great distance, he heard a muted call from beneath the rubble.  At least someone was still alive underneath.  

Basil began digging.  Lacking any useful tools, he simply grabbed rocks with his bare hands and heaved them out of the way.  Minutes passed.  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the frail wizard uncovered a hand…a goliath hand.  Grabbing hold, he heaved, and beneath the rockslide Sepoto heaved as well.  With a gasp of breath, the crusader burst free, battered and bruised, but alive.  Quickly, he joined Basil, his great strength cutting the work in half.  In short order they unearthed the rest of their companions, each beaten, but overall hale.  
“You see?” Samson said between coughing fits.  “Evil always lies to the left.”

They exited the cave, and started down the right-hand passage, Thrisp scouting carefully this time.  After a short distance the passageway forked right and left.  A faint dripping sound could be heard in the distance.  Peering down both branches, Thrisp could see the hall to the left was blocked, but a second passage branched from it just before the avalanche.  The right hand path was a dead-end.  Just as he motioned the others forward, he noticed something on the wall to his left.  It was a handprint.  A bloody, gnome-sized handprint.

The side-passage led them around the cave-in, and within it, they found piled in a corner the crumbled and torn remains of Urol’s tunic, boots and gear.  They were headed in the right direction at least.  The natural cavern soon gave way to worked stone beyond the off-branch, opening into a short hallway that ended in a pair of tarnished bronze doors.  The portals were engraved with scenes of all manner of demonic reptiles and simians tormenting human slaves, and the handles were made from the barbed tongues of fiends.  A pair of stone statues flanked the doors in niches carved into the walls.  Each depicted leering monkey demons, their tongues dripping an oily red liquid that evaporated before it hit the floor below.  Tiny inscriptions were written beneath each statue, written in the language of the Abyss.  Thrisp translated:  “Give of your left,” the left inscription read.  “Give of your right,” said the right one.  
Sepoto looked at the barbed handles.  “Here goes nothing,” he said, and he grasped each one, feeling the barbs bite into his flesh as he twisted and pulled the doors open.


----------



## demiurge1138

Wow. I may be exaggerating, because you have written many excellent things in the past, JD, but Fogmire and the brutalities within might be your best work yet. The timing of the attack, Anwar's dismissive responses to the scare tactics (and the message to Olangru carved on the zombie's chest) and his subsequent brutal demise were amazing. Good to see Olangru is as brutal an opponent in practice as he is on paper.

Demiurge out.


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## Hammerhead

RIP Anwar. Or, rather, minimize your suffering in the Grey Waste 

So what can top the diabolically evil Bard? The Druid who squeezes the life out of cute little kittens with his bare hands?


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## Schmoe

demiurge1138 said:
			
		

> Wow. I may be exaggerating, because you have written many excellent things in the past, JD, but Fogmire and the brutalities within might be your best work yet. The timing of the attack, Anwar's dismissive responses to the scare tactics (and the message to Olangru carved on the zombie's chest) and his subsequent brutal demise were amazing. Good to see Olangru is as brutal an opponent in practice as he is on paper.
> 
> Demiurge out.




Agreed.  Along with Journey's End, this last par of Here There Be Monsters has read like a good horror novel.  Excellent.


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## Quartz

Nice one!


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## Neverwinter Knight

I agree, demiurge. This is fast paced action we are talking about. 

Personally, I hope gfunk comes back with a lawful good cleric of Tyr. First off, they could really use him & also, he could pay back Joachim for reversing the Joachim/Entropy situation on him.  You could name him Rawna.


When I saw Olangru in the module, I thought that PCs were gonna die. I just didn't expect a casualty at this point. Still, Anwar's is one of the best causes of death in DnD: "Died, because he couldn't keep his big mouth shut." 

My favorite from an old group of mine: Rouge to powerful lich NPC: "So, did you like take a course in theatrical speeches, or what?"


----------



## carborundum

Wow. That was a brutal end!

Reminds me of that Faith No More number, "Surprise, You're Dead!"


----------



## theredrobedwizard

I'll be drinking heavily today; the world's second coolest bard just died.

-TRRW


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## gfunk

Sadly and with a heavy heart, I have to report that I have permanently bowed out of JD's campaign.  Since I will be moving to CA in a couple of months, I didn't see the need to disrupt the continuity of the campaign with a throwaway PC.  Also, I feel that after some decent power builds, Anwar was the pinnacle of good RPing.  The circle is now complete.

I already emailed the guys about this and talked to JD so be sure I'm not broadsiding any of my friends with this news.  Anyway, I'll still stop by a few more times to cheer on the PC's -- Kiaransalee knows they'll need it!

In the meantime, if any of our fine readers are living in the California Bay Area drop me a line and let's get a game together!  Peace out.


----------



## JollyDoc

*SATURDAY NIGHT TEASER* 

So we played tonight instead of tomorrow, and we just finished up.  If you thought this past update was shocking, wait till you see what's coming next!!

The Legion has their hands full when they come face-to-face with...Thrisp's {more} evil twin!!!!  

Two Legionnaires will not walk away from this one!!  The remaining squad members are forced to retreat from Demogorgon's shrine, and have the (mis)fortune to meet up with a pair of lost envoys from Farshore.  

Stay tuned!!


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## carborundum

Good grief, Penfold!


----------



## R-Hero

gfunk said:
			
		

> ...your faithful narrator is ripped in half by the head honcho.  Ouch.




Every time an evil bard dies, an assimar gets his wings.  


R.I.P. "Lord" Anwar


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## Zaruthustran

Anwar nooooooooooooo!

Alas, but at least you went out with style. Bummer that you won't be returning with another PC, and that we won't see what happens when Anwar introduces Amella to Lavinia. 

Maybe as a send-off to Anwar, you can post your plans for that encounter. Even if it's just "Anwar planned on feeding Amella to a shark just before they reached Farshore."

-z


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## Dantardis

I can't believe Anwar is dead.  Now we'll never see his evil plans for Lavinia come to fruition!!!


----------



## JollyDoc

Dantardis said:
			
		

> I can't believe Anwar is dead.  Now we'll never see his evil plans for Lavinia come to fruition!!!




Well, with the outcome of this week's game session, the entire nature of the Legion may be permanently changed.  Their arrival at Farshore (should they ever make it so far) should be very interesting.


----------



## Dantardis

I wonder how Lavinia wil react to the rest of the party when she finds out her lover is dead?


----------



## JollyDoc

Dantardis said:
			
		

> I wonder how Lavinia wil react to the rest of the party when she finds out her lover is dead?




Not to mention another woman grieving over it


----------



## Zaruthustran

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Not to mention another woman grieving over it




In my perfect fantasy world, gfunk would take over playing Amella.

It sidesteps gfunk's reservation about playing a disposable character, but keeps his unique impact (as a player) on the game.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> In my perfect fantasy world, gfunk would take over playing Amella.
> 
> It sidesteps gfunk's reservation about playing a disposable character, but keeps his unique impact (as a player) on the game.




And due to her grief, she manifests multiple levels of Warlock, that she didn't know she had access to.

GW


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Yeah, and it would also turn her to neutral / chaotic evil.


----------



## gfunk

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Maybe as a send-off to Anwar, you can post your plans for that encounter. Even if it's just "Anwar planned on feeding Amella to a shark just before they reached Farshore."




Well to be honest with you, I was less keen on the Amella-Anwar-Lavinia love triangle than I was on impersonating Avner.  I was going to have a field day with that one!  Anwar took a skill trick called _assume quirk_ that eliminates the Spot bonus given to penetrate your disguise checks from friends/associates.

I was probably going to maintain my relationship with Amella -- she sounds like she likes "bad boys" anyway.   Plus Anwar could Dipolamcize his way out of anything, including a little lipstick on the collar when coming home at night.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE ENEMY WITHIN

Author’s Note:  Samson’s player was not in attendance at the following game session, and so no mention will be made within of the dragon shaman.  I could always come up with some inane reason for his character not to have been there, but it would be implausible at this point.  Your temporary suspension of belief is appreciated.
________________________________________________________

The chamber beyond the great doors was stained with blood.  Two stone thrones sat on either side, set into alcoves.  On the far side of the room was a blood-caked altar of greasy green stone, topped by a pair of black tallow candles.  Iron-framed mirrors stood on either side of the altar, their reflections warped and indistinct.

“If you don’t mind,” Thrisp said, with a sarcastic twist of his lips to Sepoto, “I’ll go first this time.  Your less than subtle detection of that patently obvious cave-in trap left much to be desired.”
Sepoto shrugged.  “I found it, didn’t I?”
Thrisp shook his head in mock-exasperation, motioned the others to wait by the doors, and began slowly working his way inside the room.  As he examined each of the items in painstaking detail, Basil called to him from the corridor.
“Be wary, Thrisp,” the mage said, a tone of awe in his voice, “I’ve never seen such powerful magic as is radiating from the thrones, the mirrors, and the candles.”
“Now you tell me,” Thrisp muttered under his breath, and continued his search.  

It was only when he reached the mirrors that the gnome discovered anything worrisome.  Something about them and their odd, distorted reflections, sent a pang of warning through his senses.  When he lowered his goggles to look more closely, he thought he saw the vaguest shadow of an image in the depths of the south-most one.  It was obviously a trap of some sort, but magical in nature, not mechanical.  It would be very tricky attempting to deactivate it, but it had to be tried nevertheless.  He spent several long moments just staring at the mirror, before he nodded to himself, and pulled a small tin of grease from his belt.  Using a wooden spatula, he carefully spread a layer of the unguent across the entire surface of the glass, and then leaned back in satisfaction, blowing out the breath he’d been holding.  
“That’s one,” he called over his shoulder to his companions.  “I’m going to try the other one now, but I’m going to take a few precautions first.”  Closing his eyes in concentration, he cast first one spell, then another, cloaking himself in overlapping layers of silence and invisibility.  To his friends, he simply vanished.  He then worked his way over to the northern mirror and began the disabling process over again.  He was over halfway done when his hand slipped.  Just a fraction, but it was enough.  His skin made contact with the surface of the mirror, and everything happened instantaneously.  If Thrisp’s friends could have seen him, they would have been horrified at his sudden transformation.  His hair grew wild, jutting out at all angles, and his eyes became bloodshot with rage.  His voice grew thick and guttural with phlegm, and only one though filled his mind:  Death!

Sepoto and Marius were standing nearest to the doors.  Basil, stating that he wanted to have a clear, ranged shot at the room should trouble arise, had retreated down the hallway and around a corner.  What the goliath and the warmage saw was Thrisp’s reflection suddenly appear in the northern mirror.  It seemed to be screaming something and pounding on the glass from the inside.  From his position of concealment, Basil could see Marius, and noted the puzzled look on the gnome’s face.  The young wizard peeked around the corner and saw what had drawn their attention.
“He’s triggered the trap,” the mage said.  “The mirror’s somehow sucked him in!  Stand back!  I’ll handle this!”  Shaking back his sleeves, he began casting, weaving a counter spell designed to dispel other magical effects.  He focused it on the mirror, yet when he’d finished, nothing had changed.  The image of Thrisp still screamed silently.
“It’s no use!” he said.  “The magic is too powerful!”

The thing that had been Thrisp smiled to himself at Basil’s stupidity.  Still cocooned within his zone of silence, he cast another spell, wreathing himself in a more powerful dweomer of invisibility that would not dissipate when he struck…and the time to strike would be very soon.

“If magic won’t do it, then we’ll have to try brute force,” Sepoto said, tightening his grip on his chain and striding purposefully towards the mirror.  When he was in range, he swung, the image of Thrisp reflexively covering his face.  The chain struck the glass, but it might as well have been striking iron.  It merely clanged off, vibrating in the goliath’s hands.
“He’s out there!” the image of Thrisp suddenly screamed audibly.  “Don’t kill me!  Don’t kill me!”
“What are you talking about?” Sepoto shouted in confusion.  “Who’s out here?”
At that moment, he heard Marius grunt in pain behind him.  Turning, he saw the gnome doubled over and down on one knee.
“What happened?” the goliath said.
“A…spell…” the warmage panted.  “One…that Thrisp…uses…It…weakens target…gradually…inevitably…”  
Slowly, Marius used the wall to climb back to his feet.  With effort, he cast his own spell, immolating his body in green fire.  He knew that the magic that had afflicted him required the caster to touch his target.  He was going to make sure that wouldn’t happen again.

“Damn it!”  Sepoto roared pulling the mirror off the wall and shouting at Thrisp’s reflection.  “What’s going on here?”
A moment later, he saw both Marius and Basil reel as some unseen force washed over them.  Both looked stricken and pale, but Marius looked by far the worst.  He was almost out on his feet.  Cursing, the goliath cast the mirror aside and rushed to Marius.  The warmage had managed to pull a healing elixir from his belt and was quaffing it just as the crusader reached him and cast one of his own spells, albeit a minor one, capable of healing only superficial injuries.

“Something’s using Thrisp’s powers against us!”  Basil cried.  “Thrisp was invisible when he went to the mirror, and magically silenced.  So is whoever it is that we now face.  Prepare yourselves!  I’m going to try and reveal our attacker!”  
The mage then conjured another counter spell, only this time he engulfed the whole room with it.  Though less powerful than a targeted attack, the dispelling effect could still bring down some magical effects including, unfortunately, some of their own.  Case-in-point was demonstrated when Marius’ fire shield suddenly snuffed out.  Somewhat to their fortune, however, it also affected their assailant.  They all heard a snarling voice, which vaguely resembled Thrisp’s, spitting out the words to a spell.  An instant later, Sepoto was buffeted by a magical force which knocked the wind out of him, as if he’d been punched in the gut by a giant.  They all heard light footsteps padding away.

“To the Hells with this!”  Marius snarled.  Casting blindly, he filled the hall outside the room with fire, hoping to catch their unseen enemy within it.
“What are you doing?”  Basil shouted.  “What if it really is Thrisp that we’re fighting and he can’t control himself?”
“Then he’d better get control soon,” the warmage snapped, “or it’s better him dead than me!”
“But…” Basil started to say, but then another spell triggered, and another blast of force struck the mage, as well as Sepoto.  Basil swooned, slumping to the ground unconscious.  Again Marius cast, this time filling the room with flames.  Sepoto joined him, striking out around him with his chain, a deep growl in his throat.  

Their feral, unseen attacker chuckled to himself as he moved to stand over the fallen form of Basil.  Drawing a dagger from his robes, he knelt beside the mage…and drove the blade into his heart.  All Sepoto and Marius saw was a gout of blood explode from Basil’s chest, but they knew what had happened.
“Now Sepoto!”  Marius cried.  “He has to be right beside Basil!”  The warmage hurled a fireball into the corner, and grinned fiercely when he heard a guttural scream of agony.  It was only momentary, however.  An instant later, he heard the beguiler casting again.  It was the same spell he’d hit Marius with in his first salvo…and he’d have to touch the wizard to affect him.  Marius braced himself.  He felt a faint whisper of fingers on his cheek and quickly ducked, shouting out his own magic as he did so.  He exploded in fire, first only in his immediate area, but then widening out to fill most of the room.  Unfortunately, Sepoto was caught in the effect, but the gnome knew that the goliath was made of sturdy stuff.  He would have to be.  Once again he heard the invisible killer scream, and that was when Sepoto struck.  His chain whip-cracked out and the goliath felt it connect solidly.  When he drew it back, it was drenched in blood.  Slowly, something materialized on the floor in front of him, right beside Basil.  It was Thrisp, looking completely normal, and unquestionably dead.  The image in the mirror had vanished.
_________________________________________________________

Amella and Tavey were stricken when Sepoto and Marius delivered the news.
“So…where does that be leavin’ us now?” the Captain asked, Tavey huddled close next to her.  After having heard that it was Sepoto himself who had delivered the killing blow to Thrisp, the boy’s attitude towards the goliath had cooled.  There was fear in his eyes as he looked at his one-time hero.
“With few options,” Marius answered.  “We could wander in this swamp for weeks or months, and never find our way out, especially not without Urol.  Going back into the shrine seems less than optimal as well.  With only Sepoto, Samson, and myself, I don’t like our odds.  Still, we can’t just do nothing.  When Samson returns from his scouting mission, we’ll have to discuss it more, but I tell you this, and I don’t say it to be needlessly cruel, but if we do go back in and not return…well, there are many ways to die in a place such as this, most of them slow and painful.”
“I hear what ye be sayin’,” Amella said, setting her jaw, “an’ if it comes t’that, I’ll do what needs doin’.”
“Speaking of Samson,” Sepoto said, changing the subject when he saw Tavey’s face go even paler, “he’s been gone awhile.  What do you think might be keeping him?”
The little goblin had left over an hour before, searching for a suitable shelter for the night.  It had been Marius that pointed out the fact that Basil’s little rope trick would be expiring sometime in the middle of the night, and this time the wizard wouldn’t be around to recreate it.  They needed to find a safe place to hold up until morning.

“Hail the camp!” a voice called at that moment from the jungle.  It was Samson’s.  “Coming in!”  
“Come ahead!”  Sepoto answered.  
A minute later, Samson stepped into the clearing…and he was not alone.  He was accompanied by two individuals.  The first was a young man with flowing, blonde hair, and eyes so amber that they sparkled like gold.  He wore a religious medallion around his neck, one engraved with the symbol of Shaundekal the Traveler.  The second was a beautiful woman, obviously of elven blood, her fine, sculpted features complimented by her fiery, red hair and green eyes.  The first thing Marius noticed about her, however, was the Seeker signet she wore on the fifth finger of her left hand.
“I’ve brought company,” Samson said, smiling.
“Obviously,” Sepoto grumbled.  “Odd place to stumble across pilgrims, don’t you think?”
“They’re from Farshore!”  Samson said, still grinning.  “They…”
“We are lost, much as you,” the young man said, interrupting.  “I am Daelric Zorrin, and this is my traveling companion, Ozymandia.”
“Mandi will suffice,” the elf maid said, bowing slightly.
“Charmed,” Sepoto said.  “You’ll forgive my suspicion, but we haven’t come across many friendly faces in this gods-forsaken place.  How is it you two came to be here?”
“Your misgivings are understandable, and wise,” Daelric nodded.  “Yet it is as your friend said.  We come from Farshore.  We were part of an expedition that set out from there over a month ago.  We were envoys to the wilder tribes of Mazticans that dwell in the island’s interior.  We had hoped to open trade negotiations, yet we never even reached the first village.  We stumbled into Fogmire, whether by chance or some sinister plan, I cannot say.  Yet we numbered almost a dozen when we set out, and now only Mandi and I remain.  Samson told us of your encounter with the bar-igura.  We have met him many times, and each time we lost one of our companions.”
Sepoto’s posture eased a bit, and he nodded for the newcomers to seat themselves.
“Did Samson tell you how we came to be here?”  the goliath asked.
“He mentioned a shipwreck,” Daelric replied.
“Yes,” Sepoto nodded.  “We were one of two vessels bound for Farshore.  We were part of an expedition led by Lavinia Vanderboren.  We were on our way to replenish the colony with supplies and personnel.”
“You came with Lavinia?”  Daelric gasped.  “I, of course, knew her parents well, and I even met her once as a young girl!  We were part of the initial colonization expedition here.  We expected Lord and Lady Vanderboren to return quite some time ago, but when they didn’t, it was decided that we should try and reach out to the island tribes in order to insure our survival.”
“Lavinia’s parents perished,” Sepoto said flatly.  “Her brother, Vanthus, murdered them in order to inherit.  Lavinia hired us to bring him to justice, and later to accompany her to Farshore to finish what her parents started.”
“I am saddened to hear of the Vanderborens’ passing,” Daelric replied.  “But you say that Lavinia was with you?  Please don’t tell me that she too has come to some bitter end!”
“We’re not sure,” the goliath shook his head.  “Our ship was separated from hers during a storm.  That’s been a couple of weeks back.  You said you left Farshore over a month ago, so I don’t expect that you would know if the Blue Nixie arrived safely.”
“Sadly, no,” said Daelric.  “We’ve had no contact with the colony since we left.”
“Well, I’m sure that Samson has filled you in on what’s happened to us since we entered Fogmire,” Sepoto said, and when the young man nodded, he continued.  “So it doesn’t look like any of us are going to get to see Farshore unless we find our way out of this mess.  Our best hope lies with our guide, a druid named Urol Forol.  Unfortunately, if he’s still alive, he’s somewhere inside the shrine.”
“Then it seems you must go back in,” Daelric said, his eyes steady.  “And if Mandi and I are to have any chance of escape, it seems as if we are obliged to accompany you.”
At this Sepoto raised one eyebrow.  “Do you have any skills?” he asked.  “I don’t mean to be rude, and no insult is meant towards our capable Captain here, but if you can’t fight and hold your own, you’ll be more hindrance to us than help.”
“Well, I have some skill with magic,” Daelric replied, “though mine is of a divine nature rather than the arcane.”
“So you’re a priest?”  Sepoto asked, nodding towards his amulet.
“Not quite,” Daelric smiled.  “You might say I was chosen by the Traveler while still in the womb.  I have had no formal training.  My power manifested itself while I was still a boy.  I serve the will of Shaundekal.”
“And what of you?”  Sepoto turned to Mandi.
“I also have skills in magic,” the elf replied coolly, “though my interests lie in the areas of xenobiology, and the nature of physical change.”
“Zeno-who?”  Sepoto asked, confusion on his face.  “Speak Common.”
“She’s a wizard,” Marius said, his eyes never leaving Mandi’s.  “More specifically, a transmuter.  She specializes in shape-shifting.”
“I see,” Sepoto said, though it was obvious that he didn’t.  “Well, whatever.  We need another wizard, what with Basil getting gutted by Thrisp and all.  We could also use a healer, so I guess you two are in, like it or not.”
Marius most definitely did not.  Though, as a rule, Seekers worked towards the same general goals, in reality they often found themselves at cross-purposes with one another.  The warmage had not been aware that there were Seekers on the original expedition to Farshore, though it shouldn’t have surprised him.  Still, that revelation changed much.  He would have to be on his guard, and keep a careful eye on the elf.
_____________________________________________________________

The five teammates, old and new, stood once again upon the threshold of the mirrored room.  This time there was no Thrisp to try and disable the trapped looking glasses, and perhaps that was not such a bad thing.  It had been decided that Sepoto would be the one to investigate, for several reasons.  Mainly, if he were to go insane, he had only minor magics to call upon, and though skilled as he was with his weapon of choice, the trio of spell weavers should be able to bring him down before he caused much harm.

The group had generally concluded that the candles, mirror and thrones were all interconnected in some way, since they all radiated powerful magic.  Basil had said, before he died, that one of the dweomers possessed by the mirrors was that of Conjuration…a type of magic associated with arcane portals.  It was quite possible that the entire chamber was a gateway leading deeper inside the shrine.  They just had to figure out the key.
‘The candles first,’ Sepoto thought to himself as he cautiously crossed the room.  He carried a guttering torch in one hand, and when he reached the blood-stained altar, he touched it to the candle on the left.  He held his breath, waiting for the inevitable.  For a moment, nothing happened, but then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement to his right.  Turning that way, he noticed that the seat of the throne on the northern wall was now filled with a dark, red liquid…blood.
“I think we may be on to something,” he said over his shoulder to the others, who were still huddled outside the door.
“Just be careful,” Marius said, unnecessarily.  
Sepoto moved over to the throne.  The blood pool had stopped growing, not a drop spilling off of the seat.
“What do you do with a throne?” the goliath muttered to himself.  Shrugging, he did the only thing he knew to do.  He sat in it.  Immediately, color began to swirl in the mirror hanging opposite him, on the south wall.  The crusader leaped from the seat and approached it slowly.  When he reached it, he saw a glow coming from somewhere deep within its inky depths.  He reached out his hand.
“Sepoto, wait!”  Marius cried, but it was too late.  As soon as the goliath touched the mirror, an image appeared.  It was a bestial, rabid caricature of himself, foaming at the mouth, rage in its eyes.  Just for a moment, Sepoto felt that same rage blooming inside him, but just as quickly, it passed.  He turned towards the others and gave a thumbs-up.  The other mirror remained dark, and the other throne empty.  Sepoto returned to the altar and lit the second candle.  Immediately, the opposite throne began filling with blood.
“I think we’re in business,” he said, rushing over and sitting upon the throne.  The northern mirror began to glow. 
“This is it!” he nearly shouted as he rose from the chair and crossed to the second mirror.  When he touched it, his feral reflection briefly appeared again, but then vanished as the images in both mirrors changed to swirling vortexes of darkness.
“You know, I had a dog once,” Sepoto said, a smile on his face as he faced his companions, “and his name was…Bingo!”
_________________________________________________________

Sepoto was the first one to step through the mystic portal.  When he exited on the other side, he found himself in a huge chamber bathed in a strange red light that came from above.  Thorny vines grew across the walls and toward the ceiling some forty feet up.  A natural stone bridge crossed through the upper reaches of the room, directly above a large pool of crimson liquid.  He had emerged from a large, free-standing mirror on the north wall, its warped surface framed in iron.  The warm scent of wet fur was overpowering, and a furtive shuffling echoed from the bridge overhead.

A moment later, Daelric stepped out of the mirror behind Sepoto, closely followed by Mandi.  The elf’s eyes grew wide as she looked about her.
“Watch out!” she screamed.
Immediately, Sepoto went into a battle crouch, but he saw nothing.  “What?” he shouted.  “What is it?”
“The demons!”  Mandi shrieked.  “They’re coming from both sides!”  The mage had imbued herself with the power to see the unseen before stepping through the portal, and now she thanked her ancestors that she had.  Two bar-iguras, cloaked in invisibility, were closing steadily towards them, one on each side.  At her shout of warning, they rushed forward.  Both of them appeared for an instant as they locked their hands around the arms of Daelric and Mandi, and then vanished.  For an instant, the wizard and the holy man felt themselves pulled mightily.  The demons had tried to abduct them, as they had their companions before.  It was only by pure strength of will that the pair resisted, remaining where they were while the bar-iguras teleported.  

Just then Marius appeared thru the looking glass.
“Ware!”  Mandi shouted.  “They could be anywhere!”
“I’ll flush them out,” Daelric said, and he began murmuring a prayer.  When he’d finished, there was no obvious effect, until slowly, not twenty feet away, the two demons materialized.
“They won’t be able to disappear while my spell holds,” Daelric said, “but they can still teleport.  Strike now!”
Sepoto didn’t hesitate, moving towards the nearest fiend.  It was obvious that neither of these were the one that had killed Anwar.  They weren’t big enough, but they were still deadly, and it wouldn’t do to underestimate them.  To prove that point, the one that the goliath was not engaging rushed passed him, heading straight for Daelric.  As it came, however, the young acolyte hurled a powerful blast of power at it, striking with a lance of pure sound.  Simultaneously, Marius unleashed a blast of scorching fire at Sepoto’s opponent, though it only managed to singe the demon’s Abyss-spawned flesh.  Frustrated, the war mage took note that the sonic burst Daelric used seemed to have wounded the other bar-igura greatly.  Casting again, he manifested a clear ball of concentrated sonic energy, and slung it at Sepoto’s opponent.  This time the demon reeled, and when Daelric struck with a second sonic spear, it collapsed into the pool, a fist-sized hole blown in its chest.

The tactic seemed to be working, so Mandi didn’t try to alter it.  She struck out at the remaining bar-igura.  As it roared in pain and rage, Sepoto struck as well, his chain cleaving through its spine like a razor, splitting it nearly in two.

“Well,” the goliath said, panting and surveying the carnage as Samson finally stepped through the mirror, “looks like we officially have ourselves two new Legionnaires.”


----------



## Supar

yah ingame note basil rolled a nat 4 on his fort save i believe i needed a 6


----------



## Zaruthustran

Deadly!


----------



## Tony Vargas

"It was only by pure strength of will that the pair resisted, remaining where they were while the bar-iguras teleported. "

Interesting.  I vaguely remember the bar-igura from 2nd Ed, I think.  None of the plain vanilla 3E SRD demons can teleport with others (they're generally restricted to possessions or a 50lb wieght limit, IIRC).  Is it a (relatively) unique bar-igura trick, or am I missing something...?


----------



## demiurge1138

Tony Vargas said:
			
		

> "It was only by pure strength of will that the pair resisted, remaining where they were while the bar-iguras teleported. "
> 
> Interesting.  I vaguely remember the bar-igura from 2nd Ed, I think.  None of the plain vanilla 3E SRD demons can teleport with others (they're generally restricted to possessions or a 50lb wieght limit, IIRC).  Is it a (relatively) unique bar-igura trick, or am I missing something...?



Abduction is a bar-lgura ability. They can explicitly take others with them when they teleport.

Demiurge out.


----------



## Joachim

Supar said:
			
		

> yah ingame note basil rolled a nat 4 on his fort save i believe i needed a 6




For the readers, don't think that JD took over my character and proceeded to lay waste to the other PC's; sadly it was all my doing.  He took me aside and told me to play it as deadly as I could, so I was following orders...knowing Thrisp's abilities and the others' weaknesses I was certain that it was going to be trouble.  When I came back to the table I simply told everyone that either I was going to be making a new character, or they were.  Turns out I was right on both accounts.

As far as the coup de grace on Basil, the end result was regretable, but the other option was to Whelming Burst Sepoto and Marius...as a player I knew that both of those PC's were near unconsciousness with all of the Mass Whelm / Inevitable Defeat damage that I had been dealing.  I also knew that my coup de grace damage was 2d4-2, so the fort save would be between 11 and 16...it turned out to be 1 point of damage, Fort save DC of 11.  I took the risk that I could kill 1 PC (but probably not any) rather than a good chance of knocking all 3 out at which point I could simply coup de grace all of them repeatedly at my leisure.  

Oh, well, death is a part of the game, but I don't think that I am done with the Beguiler class just yet...if anything happens to Ozymandia (Joe was the one that shortened it to Mandi, which I assume is because he doesn't want to have to repeatedly type all 9 letters of my name) we may see another incarnation of this kind of character, probably specializing in Enchantments rather than Illusions.  Ozymandia was thrown together as quickly as I could (I usually spend days to weeks analyzing my characters, and I made her in about an hour), but the end result looks pretty interesting.  I will post her build shortly.


----------



## Elemental

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> THE ENEMY WITHIN
> 
> Author’s Note:  Samson’s player was not in attendance at the following game session, and so no mention will be made within of the dragon shaman.  I could always come up with some inane reason for his character not to have been there, but it would be implausible at this point.  Your temporary suspension of belief is appreciated.




When that happened in my group, we'd just say that the character in question had fallen down a plot hole.   

Nice update.


----------



## theredrobedwizard

Why do the ones I love always die?  First Anwar, now Thrisp and Basil?

Marius had better pick up a lot of the Evil slack, or there'll be some 'splaining to do.

-TRRW


----------



## Supar

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> Why do the ones I love always die?  First Anwar, now Thrisp and Basil?
> 
> Marius had better pick up a lot of the Evil slack, or there'll be some 'splaining to do.
> 
> -TRRW




lol i was reveling in my evil hood maybe its what got me killed. when they all got traped under the rubble my first thoughts were go to amelila and tavy and force them to dig    "either dig or i shall dismiss the rope trick and you can face the random dangers of this place" a shame my group grumbled enough to the point i started diggin


----------



## JollyDoc

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> Why do the ones I love always die?  First Anwar, now Thrisp and Basil?
> 
> Marius had better pick up a lot of the Evil slack, or there'll be some 'splaining to do.
> 
> -TRRW





From what Rich has told me about Mandi's past, I think there will be enough evil to go around...


----------



## theredrobedwizard

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> From what Rich has told me about Mandi's past, I think there will be enough evil to go around...





I believe that my girlfriend said it best when she said "Sweety, there's *never* enough evil to go around."

But more to the point; yay!

-TRRW


----------



## Need_A_Life

Sorry to see my favorite Beguiler leave the group...

First Anwar, now this...

*sniff*

Still, a great update and YAY! on the "plenty of evil" part


----------



## WarEagleMage

*Evil Marius*



			
				theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> Why do the ones I love always die?  First Anwar, now Thrisp and Basil?
> 
> Marius had better pick up a lot of the Evil slack, or there'll be some 'splaining to do.
> 
> -TRRW




Marius is a pretty no-nonsense guy.  Selfish - perhaps, expedient - definitely.  From time to time, his actions might be construed as evil, but Anwar-evil is entirely too complicated for our favorite blast-a-holic.  I'll have to post his build here soon, but he's a straight up warmage.  Nothing too fancy.  Makes playing with these guys a little easier.  How Sepoto keeps up with all his Nine Swords crap is beyond me!


----------



## JollyDoc

Sorry for the lateness of this, but I just started at a new office today, so it's been hectic:

Monday Teaser:

The new Legion travels deeper into the shrine of Demogorgon,

First stop:  Nothing says Prince of Demons better than babboon luvin'...especially when it comes from a mob of fiendish babboons   

Next stop:  They just don't make undead nagas like they used to...but who needs'em when you have a charmed dragon shaman and favored soul at your disposal?

Last stop:  Like a good Indiana Jones flick, the group finds the Temple of Doom, complete with a dangling gnome over a pit of flames.  Olangru isn't as deadly the second time around, but his big brother more than makes up for his shortcomings...can anyone say slam/improved grab/constrict/slam/slam/slam....sucks to be you!


----------



## Need_A_Life

Ooooh... sadistic!

JollyDoc, you are one evil DM... do you tutor? Or are you strictly limiting it to torture?


----------



## JollyDoc

Need_A_Life said:
			
		

> Ooooh... sadistic!
> 
> JollyDoc, you are one evil DM... do you tutor? Or are you strictly limiting it to torture?




I'm aspiring to demigodhood, so I'm starting my portfolio with sadism, possibly branching out into TPK.


----------



## Dantardis

The slam/grab/constrict/slam/slam/slam looks bad. are party deaths expected?


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> I'm aspiring to demigodhood, so I'm starting my portfolio with sadism, possibly branching out into TPK.



JollyDoc, I think you're on a very good way for that. 

Charming, dominating or creating-an-evil-replica-of-our-favorite-beguiler-in-the-mirror-trap can have a most devastating effect. But then again, so can slam/grab/constrict/slam/slam/slam!   

Too bad Thrisp kicked the bucket. He was like the little brother you never had, well the evil little brother that kills all your friends and associates with kittens... Plus, I think he would have ended Amella rather sooner than later, if she'd kept that "I hate gnomes" thing up. 
Fare well, little dude.


----------



## JollyDoc

Dantardis said:
			
		

> The slam/grab/constrict/slam/slam/slam looks bad. are party deaths expected?




One would think so, wouldn't one...?


----------



## Zaruthustran

Hey Jollydoc, I want to share your story hour with others but just noticed that the first post lists the fates of the deceased. This kind of ruins the suspense--do you think you could spoiler-text the status notes?

-z


----------



## JollyDoc

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Hey Jollydoc, I want to share your story hour with others but just noticed that the first post lists the fates of the deceased. This kind of ruins the suspense--do you think you could spoiler-text the status notes?
> 
> -z





Sure thing!  In fact, I may just delete the status notes altogether...probably ruins it for a lot of new readers.


----------



## Schmoe

Holy crap!  Party members have been dying off left and right the last few sessions.  Here There Be Monsters is aptly named, and looks to be a killer adventure.  JollyDoc, do you play up the mood/atmosphere of these adventures?  As I read, HTBM had a very "Heart of Darkness" and "Predator" kind of feel.  Does that come through in the sessions?  Does the absolute carnage translate into that sort of atmosphere, or is it more like "Crap, I really didn't want to roll up another character"?

Also, I'm sorry to see gfunk leaving the campaign.  He had some of the more memorable (<cough> broken <cough>) characters around and definitely kept things interesting.  Gfunk, here's hoping things turn out well wherever you go.


----------



## gfunk

Schmoe said:
			
		

> Also, I'm sorry to see gfunk leaving the campaign.  He had some of the more memorable (<cough> broken <cough>) characters around and definitely kept things interesting.  Gfunk, here's hoping things turn out well wherever you go.




Well thanks for that, it is appreciated.  However, truth be told I have to say Richard (Joachim) has clearly exceeded me in the power-gaming department particularly since the advent of 3.5.  Also, influence from both of us seems to have seeped into other characters as well.  Both Ricky (Sepoto) and Courtney (Basil) have embraced the "optimization" paradigm.

I will happily accept the title of "more memorable characters" however.  Between Entropy, Pez, Caine, and Anwar I've really enjoyed the characters I've played and I hope you have as well.


----------



## war wizard

Oh Doc, doc, doc......

You sick twisted evil low-down underhanded, and if I may steal a line from my favorite war movie "you magnificent b@$tard". 

Good stuff, I know you are upset by G leaving, but that’s to reason to try to kill off all the rest of the party.   

This reference to slam/grab/constrict/slam/slam/slam looks vaguely like an attack of a giant dragon something to the effect of claw/claw/bite/tail – lash/ wing buffet/wing buffet
Vs a small opponent already inside the dragons mouth…

Dare I say it; the role-playing seems to have helped your writing. Some how it seems a bit surreal, up to a few months ago I’d have sworn that your crew went with role-playing like Rosie O’Donnell went with hot-pants, or sour-kraut went with grape-jelly. 

Keep up the good work.


----------



## JollyDoc

Schmoe said:
			
		

> Holy crap!  Party members have been dying off left and right the last few sessions.  Here There Be Monsters is aptly named, and looks to be a killer adventure.  JollyDoc, do you play up the mood/atmosphere of these adventures?  As I read, HTBM had a very "Heart of Darkness" and "Predator" kind of feel.  Does that come through in the sessions?  Does the absolute carnage translate into that sort of atmosphere, or is it more like "Crap, I really didn't want to roll up another character"?




Well, yes and no.  You have to remember who I'm playing with here.  To these guys it's sometimes like "flavor text, blah, blah, blah...when do we roll intiative?"  Still, when battles are tense, everyone gets into the mood of it.  I think when Anwar died, that was a particulary tense moment.  It was so unexpected, and everyone was like, "Oh crap!  What the hell is that thing?"  So it just depends on the moment.  These guys like their characters, and while they're always one-step ahead on their next character should they lose their current one, they aren't blaise' about character death, and that's when the emotion shows, when it comes down to one lucky or unlucky roll of the dice.


----------



## JollyDoc

war wizard said:
			
		

> Oh Doc, doc, doc......
> 
> You sick twisted evil low-down underhanded, and if I may steal a line from my favorite war movie "you magnificent b@$tard".
> 
> Good stuff, I know you are upset by G leaving, but that’s to reason to try to kill off all the rest of the party.
> 
> This reference to slam/grab/constrict/slam/slam/slam looks vaguely like an attack of a giant dragon something to the effect of claw/claw/bite/tail – lash/ wing buffet/wing buffet
> Vs a small opponent already inside the dragons mouth…
> 
> Dare I say it; the role-playing seems to have helped your writing. Some how it seems a bit surreal, up to a few months ago I’d have sworn that your crew went with role-playing like Rosie O’Donnell went with hot-pants, or sour-kraut went with grape-jelly.
> 
> Keep up the good work.




I understand what you are saying.  I might have said the same in years past, but these guys have really stepped up their role-playing, but not at the expense of their power-gaming.  I think it's a nice mix now, and with a story like Savage Tide, there has to be role-playing, or a lot of the fun is lost.  Especially with Tides of Dread, we should see some of the PC's shine.

BTW Ed...there is still a seat at the table with your name on it


----------



## Supar

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Well, yes and no.  You have to remember who I'm playing with here.  To these guys it's sometimes like "flavor text, blah, blah, blah...when do we roll intiative?"  Still, when battles are tense, everyone gets into the mood of it.  I think when Anwar died, that was a particulary tense moment.  It was so unexpected, and everyone was like, "Oh crap!  What the hell is that thing?"  So it just depends on the moment.  These guys like their characters, and while they're always one-step ahead on their next character should they lose their current one, they aren't blaise' about character death, and that's when the emotion shows, when it comes down to one lucky or unlucky roll of the dice.




I always make my chars for 1-20 so losing anyone of them is a big ouch to me. But if you dont die how will you learn and how do you make that next one to make your DM go "wait wtf how did you get that"

Honestly the most emotion at our table shows when you have that boss fight. Everyone at the table knows its here and things are do our die. Legs start to shake the cogs start to work and we start looking at each other cross table trying to use the rary telepathic bond. As far as me at the table i have not yet learned the entire MM like g and joachim have so at times im at the table  wondering wtf Jame jacob and JD have concoted against me.

G man you will be missed man your a lvl 30 epic power gamer on the verge of transcending to demi god status. May the dice of life always nat 20 for you


----------



## R-Hero

First Anwar now Thrisp??
Don't make Hawk come down there and get all Blackguard on you. J.D.  
(Shacking up with a lilliend, Alice with an undead template, spouting on and on about the Triad...)


This is as good as any story hour gets.  Maybe there is room in the d20 universe for (_shudder_) role-playing.


----------



## Need_A_Life

Heh, the most roleplaying in d20 will happen in evil campaigns...

Good campaign = "I think we should kill evil" "Yea, me too"
Neutral campaign = "We are so not being paid enough for this" "Yea, let's quit"
Mixed campaign = "This is so not worth it" "But the villager--" "Shut up, paladin" *smite*
Evil campaign = AWESOME!

Honestly, in our last D&D campaign we were Evil (capital 'E') and our teamwork has never been better. Sure, we made sure to put roadblocks in oneanothers way and withheld useful information from each others, but in the end we accomplished our goals easily and with style.

_Example:_
Six players, three different organisation (2 dedicated to Tiamat, 2 to some Undead organisation and 2 to devils [I was in the last]).
Our group met with three representatives, one from each of our (allied) powergroups in an inconspicuous location (some tavern at the side of the road). We were given a collective goal; to take down a particular political party.
Then each group was taken aside and were entrusted with an extra goal, for which we could earn a bonus. Our group was told to eliminate one of two parties for a bonus (making them illegible to vote in the parliament of the country), with an additional bonus if we eliminated both.
We (as in, the devils) began making deals with the others for them to finish our goals for them in exchange for minor 'gifts' (such as giving them relevant information to their own assignments), which they (mostly) did.

In the end, our powerblock had expended ZERO permanent resources (a few spells was about all... we'd never even taken a hit!), whereas the two other powerblocks had suffered two deaths and several "close-calls."
Yet, no one ever backstabbed another... except me, but that _was_ justifiable roleplay behaviour... I was a devil who fulfilled a contract to the letter, not the spirit...

Anyway, keep the great story hour going!


----------



## Joachim

gfunk said:
			
		

> However, truth be told I have to say Richard (Joachim) has clearly exceeded me in the power-gaming department particularly since the advent of 3.5.




Wow, thanks, I guess, although I don't know how true that is.  While I hope that my PC designs have been potent, survivable, and useful (which is what I really shoot for), I have honestly never shot for a 'most powerful' moniker with any of them.  I just want to have fun, be useful, and every now and then have the ability to rip off 2 maximized, empowered, vitriolic eldritch chains.


----------



## JollyDoc

Just an update on the Update.  The group won't be gaming this Sunday, so I'm going to take a little longer to post the update, but with any luck it should be up by the first of the week.  Thanks for your patience.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE SHRINE OF THE DEMON PRINCE

“You people seem to attract danger,” Mandi said as the last bar-lgura fell.  “So you will pardon me if I assume more appropriate attire.”  
The elf woman began weaving her hands above her head in an intricate pattern.  As she gathered the magic to her, her body began to alter, subtly at first, her skin taking on a greenish tint, but then with frightening abruptness, she transformed completely.  Where once a beautiful elven maid had stood, there was now a hunched, four-armed, reptilian…thing.
“An abyssal eviscerator?”  Marius asked.  “Interesting.”
“Their hide is thicker than the strongest armor,” Mandi rumbled in a gurgling voice.
“I’ll have to skin one some time and see for myself,” Sepoto muttered.  

From their position on the floor of the cavern, they saw only two means to exit, both blocked by stout iron doors.  Sepoto chose one at random, but when he tried the handle, he found it stoutly locked.  
“Allow me,” Mandi growled.  The form she wore certainly looked formidable, but Sepoto still doubted she would be able to force open the door if he could not.  She surprised him by pulling a scroll from the robes she still wore, and read an incantation from it.  A metallic knocking sound came from the door, and it swung silently open.  A cramped tunnel led a short distance before emptying into a noisome pit, filled with bones, scraps of flesh, dried blood, tattered rags, and other things unidentifiable.  A shaft opened in the ceiling of the pit.  When no one else seemed inclined to investigate, Mandi sighed, and hunched down, squirming her way down the tunnel.  When she reached the pit and looked up, she saw an iron grate covering the top some twenty feet above.  She could hear hooting and growling coming from somewhere beyond, and the smell of animal musk was almost overpowering.

“Baboons,” Mandi said as she came back into the main cavern, “a lot of them, unless I miss my guess.  Perhaps your lost friend is up there with them.”
“Maybe,” Sepoto said, “but it seems like there must be another way into that room.”  
They tried the other door, and found that it led to a set of natural stairs which gave onto the upper level of the chamber.  On the landing where they stood was another iron door, but across the bridge, set into the same wall as previous door, was another portal.
“That way,” Sepoto instructed, and the group hurried across the stone bridge.

Samson and Sepoto took the front rank, while Marius and Mandi stood some distance away, at the bridge’s center.  Daelric was between the two groups, ready to offer his assistance wherever it was needed.  At a nod from Sepoto, the dragon shaman opened the door.  Six columns ran down the length of the room beyond, flanking a pit covered by a rusted iron grate.  On the far side of the chamber was a stone throne carved with the likenesses of grinning monkey demons.  A horde of wretched, horned and feral-looking baboons lazed about the far end of the room, but as the door opened, they all came alert instantly, their red eyes staring at Samson for a moment.  Then they were in motion, the whole mob hooting and howling, surging forward like a single organism.  

The apes poured over Samson and Sepoto, their fangs biting at any exposed surface.  Both of the warriors flailed about them furiously, splattering baboons right and left, but there were just too many of them.  In a matter of seconds, their comrades lost sight of them as they were buried beneath the monkey pile.  Marius hustled forward, careful to stay clear of the mob of furred flesh and teeth.  He began casting, hurling a bead of fire into the chamber, against the far wall.  It exploded in a wave of flames that washed over the horde, but stopped just short of where he’d last seen the goliath and the goblin.  Burning apes ran screaming here and there, setting others alight as they savaged each other.  

Within the mass, Sepoto and Samson still fought, the dragon shaman bringing his acidic breath to bear on as many of the little demons as he could get.  Finally, the mob began to disperse from around them, only to reform on the bridge beyond, moving right towards the others.  Sepoto whirled, swinging his chain like a giant pendulum, sweeping apes off the bridge in a great arc.  The mass fell apart again, with the few remaining survivors scampering away to safety.

A quick look into the chamber showed no sign of Urol.
“Do you think we should search it more thoroughly?”  Samson asked.  “There could be a hidden door or something we are overlooking.”
“The defensive wards we placed upon us are of limited duration,” Mandi said, shaking her head.  “We should keep moving while we can.  We will need all the resources at our disposal when we face the bar-lgura.
______________________________________________________________

Ilzytik heard the humanoids approaching his lair.  Olangru had warned him that they would come, searching for their lost comrade.  The bar-lgura had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that they not be allowed to pass.  The ceremony was not to be interrupted.  He had locked the portal leading to the Hall of Howls and the shrine itself, even going so far as to hide the keys.  The spirit naga had originally agreed to help the demons in hopes of increasing his own power, but he knew that if he failed in the task he had been given, it would mean his very life.  When he heard the intruders just outside his door, he began weaving his magic, carefully crafting his deception and laying his trap.
_______________________________________________________________

Sepoto swung the iron door wide, bracing himself for another attack.  Thousands of bones were piled high in the corners and center of the room beyond, a grisly testament to past atrocities.  The sound of bubbling water came from the dark western end of the chamber, where a pair of fountains stood opposite each other, filled by water pouring out of the fanged maws of large baboon heads mounted on the walls.  In the midst of this charnel house sat a large, coiled serpent, but at second glance Sepoto saw that it was something more than that.  Its head was that of a human male, with lank hair, and clouded eyes.  Its skin appeared rotted and putrid, with bone and sinew showing beneath in places.  An undead creature of some sort, the goliath thought.  Cautiously, he advanced.  

Back out on the stone bridge, Marius saw the creature as well.  
“It’s a naga,” he said, “or rather, what used to be a naga.  I wasn’t aware they could be reanimated as undead.”  At that moment, the creature began to speak, or rather it began to chant.
“It’s casting a spell!” the seeker cried.  “No zombie can do that!  Sepoto, watch out!”  
The warmage began his own spell, creating a hail of fist-sized stones that rained down on the naga, pummeling its already damaged hide.

At Marius’ warning, Sepoto lunged forward, his blade slashing, its spikes curving wickedly.  It sliced right through where the creature’s neck was…or should have been.  To the goliath’s amazement and consternation, it only passed through air.  The image of the naga flickered momentarily, and he saw that it was but an illusion.  The real creature lay beneath, whole and healthy, and several paces to the left of where the crusader thought it was.  

Daelric craned his neck to see over Sepoto, and at that moment, his eyes met those of the naga.  In that instant, he came to see the creature as a friend and ally, and could not understand why Sepoto was menacing it.
“Leave it alone!” he shouted to the goliath.  “Can’t you see that it’s already been through enough?  It means us no harm!”
“Yes, Daelric’s right!”  Samson echoed from his position near the door, his eyes also locked on Ilzytik’s.  “I can see that now.  Sepoto, you must stop!”

“What in the bloody hells are you two nattering about?” the goliath growled, not turning his attention from the naga.
“He’s mad!”  Ilzytik pleaded.  “Please help me!  I can’t face him alone!”
Daelric’s jaw tightened at the plight of his friend.  He began a prayer, weaving a protective aura about the naga.
“The creature’s enthralled them!”  Mandi shouted.  “Pay them no heed!  Destroy it!”  She loosed her own spell, a lance of pure sound that rocked the naga back as it struck.  Simultaneously, Marius conjured another hail of stones about the horror.

“I have no choice but to protect myself!”  Ilzytik shouted to his thralls.  “Close the door!”  he called to Samson.  “I’ll be able to handle the goliath.  I promise not to kill him!”  
Samson nodded, stepping forward and swinging the door shut, sealing Sepoto in, alone with the naga.  Instantly Ilzytik’s eyes narrowed wickedly, and he spat out the words to another spell, sending two scorching rays of fire into the crusader.
“That’s the last mistake you’ll ever make,” the goliath grunted under the impact.  He surged forward again, this time aiming true.  Ilzytik’s head went flying, landing right in the middle of the north-most fountain.

When Sepoto opened the door again, he found a horrified Samson and Daelric staring at him open-mouthed.
“Barbarian!”  Daelric screeched.
“Murderer,” Samson muttered.
“You two had better snap out of it, and fast,” the crusader thundered, “or it’ll be your heads on those walls instead of the monkeys!”
He stomped across the chamber to a large set of iron, double doors on the far side, and with a grunt of effort, hauled them open.  Another pair of iron doors, carefully carved with the images of ape demons and burning landscapes, loomed in the wall opposite of the small room beyond.  The walls and floor of the room were polished smooth, and two large statues stood in niches on opposite sides.  Also made of iron, these sculptures depicted hulking, simian fiends, each one holding out an arm missing a hand.  The statue on the right was missing its left, while the statue on the left was missing its right.  Sepoto ignored them both, instead moving to the far doors and pulling on the handles.  They didn’t budge.
“If I may?”  Mandi said, entering the room.  Once more she pulled a scroll from her robes, the diaphanous, silk garb incongruous on her abyssal form.  This time when she read the spell, however, the portals remained closed tightly.
“Only a very powerful arcane lock could withstand my spell,” she said, puzzled.
“Perhaps the statues offer some sort of clue,” Marius opined, as he examined one of them closely.
“Maybe this will help,” Daelric said bitterly as he entered the room.  In one hand he held Ilzytik’s head, while in the other was an ape’s paw made of iron, and dripping water.  “I found it in the fountain while I was recovering the poor naga’s head, so that he might lie in dignity.”
Sepoto just rolled his eyes.
______________________________________________________________

The iron paw fit perfectly into the stump of the left statue, but the doors still would not open, which meant another key had to be hidden somewhere.  The group searched both fountains, as well as the bone piles in the naga’s lair, but found nothing.  They then began retracing their steps, searching first in the chamber of the bar-lgura’s, and then in the throne room where they’d encountered the baboons.  It was there, behind the throne, that Mandi spotted a slight inconsistency in the coloring of the stone on the wall.  Examining it more closely, she found a crack in the stone, which when traced, outlined a cleverly concealed door.  A strong shove by Sepoto opened the door, revealing a small chamber that featured a pair of iron chests.  Sepoto quickly set to work on the first one with a pry bar, forcing the rusted lid open.  Inside, resting atop a mound of coins, was a left-handed iron ape paw.

Quickly, the company hurried back to the room containing the statues.  Once the second paw was placed, the great doors swung easily open.  A long hall lay beyond, lit by flaming brands held aloft by iron ape statues placed at even intervals on either side.  Each of the ape statues had its head thrown back, as if silently howling at the ceiling above.  At the far end of the hall, another pair of double doors, this time made from gleaming copper, stood closed.

Cautiously, Sepoto and Samson began walking down the hall, the dragon shaman eyeing the goliath suspiciously all the while.  No sooner had they come abreast of the first pair of statues, than the sculptures each emitted ear-piercing howls.
“Damn!”  Sepoto cursed.  “Come on!  They know we’re coming!”
He hurried on, and the others followed.  As they passed each new pair of statues, they too began to wail.  By the time the goliath reached the doors, the din was deafening.  Expecting the portals to be locked, he shoved mightily at them, but they opened as if newly oiled, revealing a horrifying scene.

The huge chamber was watched over by five hideous statues.  To the east and west stood four towering demonic apes in alcoves, facing a roaring fire pit in the room’s center.  On the opposite side of the room was an even larger statue.  Possessing the stout, stylized body of an ape, the sculpture had two stone tentacles where each of its arms should have been.  Sprouting from its shoulders were two fanged baboon heads.  The statue lorded over the room atop a great dais, staring out in frozen rage.  Even more troubling to the group, though, was the sight of a small figure dangling from a chain suspended over the fire pit.  Urol.

Daelric and Sepoto stepped a few paces into the chamber, trying to take in all of their surroundings.  Sepoto heard the priest murmuring a prayer to himself.
“What’s the point in that?” the goliath asked.  “You’re here already.  Your prayer wasn’t answered.”
“It wasn’t that kind of prayer,” Daelric said resentfully.  “You yourself said that the demon attacked you ‘out of thin air.’  The prayer I just invoked will prevent that.  Nothing unseen can approach within forty feet of us without revealing itself.”
“Much good may it do us,” the crusader rumbled.

Just then, a shrill scream sounded from the hanging druid.  The winch on the far east wall, which wound the chain, was slowly turning of its own volition, methodically lowering the gnome towards the flames.  Sepoto cursed and started towards the winch.  Daelric stared helplessly up at Urol as he dropped lower and lower.  Suddenly, the young priest caught movement out of the corner of his eye.  His spell had worked, but as Sepoto had stated, much good it did him.  Darting around the opposite side of the fire pit from Sepoto came the bar-lgura.  Olangru was on all fours, sprinting right for Daelric.  The demon leaped, one great paw rising to strike.  Daelric gasped and threw himself to one side, barely avoiding the pounce.  Still, Olangru’s claws raked a deep gash in his leg as he rolled to his feet.

“Samson!”  Sepoto bellowed.  “Save the gnome!”  
The crusader then took off at a dead run towards Olangru, calling up his own magic as he went.  Instantly his chain sprouted twice the usual number of spikes, barbed and cruel.  Invoking Savras’ name, Sepoto struck, ripping into the bar-lgura’s flesh.  Olangru howled, whirling on the goliath.
“Why don’t you try picking on someone your own size this time?”  Sepoto grinned menacingly.

Back at the doors, Marius watched the battle, tension filling him.  He turned towards Samson, wondering what the dragon shaman could possibly do to help Urol.  He saw the goblin quaffing a vial of liquid.  As Samson threw the empty container to the floor, he rose into the air, streaking towards the gnome just as Urol’s hair began to smolder, and he screamed louder.  Satisfied that there was nothing for him to do on that front, Marius turned back towards Sepoto and the demon, and began casting.  For the third time that day, the warmage rained stone down on his opponent.  Olangru slapped and hissed at the rocks as they pelted him, but he didn’t miss a beat in his cautious circling of the crusader.

Samson reached Urol just a few feet above the roaring fire pit.  The dragon shaman felt his own skin begin to blister.  Scooping the gnome into his arms, he flew towards the winch, the chain feeding out behind him.  Once there, he dropped to the ground, carefully placing the weeping druid on the stones.

Olangru grinned, his tongue lolling from his mouth as he feinted at Sepoto, and then tumbled nimbly past the goliath, the spiked chain catching nothing but air as he moved.  Once more on all fours, the bar-lgura loped towards Marius.  Certainly the crusader was dangerous, but only at close range.  It was the wizard that posed the greatest threat, and so it was his throat that Olangru would rip out first.  The warmage gaped open-mouthed as the demon approached.  Olangru leaped, but as he did so, a thin blue beam of energy struck him from Daelric’s outstretched hand.  The bar-lgura stumbled, tripping over his own feet, and only managed to graze Marius as he struggled to regain his balance.  When he finally managed to stand and turn, he found the goliath closing fast.  He tried to leap away, but again his muscles betrayed him, and he was clumsy in his retreat.  This time Sepoto’s chain struck true, ripping deep into the demon’s flesh.  Across the room, Olangru saw Samson kneeling next to the druid, tending his wounds.  Easy prey.  He stepped back from the goliath again, intending to teleport himself over to the unwary pair.
“Not so fast,” a voice commanded from behind him.  He turned and saw a winged, angelic figure hovering in the air above him.  It was a gardinal, but how was that possible?  How could a celestial be in this unholy place?  Mandi could have answered that question, had she been so inclined.  Little did the demon know that she had merely altered her appearance again, giving herself wings to carry her aloft.  Now, as her acute insight told her that the demon was going to attempt a quick getaway, she struck, firing a barrage of arcane missiles at him.  The volley confused Olangru, breaking his concentration just long enough.  Sepoto swung for the fence, snapping the bar-lgura’s neck with a whip-crack strike from his chain.

The Legionnaires breathed a collective sigh of relief.  The creature that had taken Anwar from them, and been responsible for the deaths of Thrisp and Basil was no more.  The nightmare was over.  Marius crossed the room to where Samson tended Urol.  A minor cantrip from the mage’s repertoire shattered the chains that bound the druid.  The two of them then helped him back to the others, where Daelric was busy healing the wounds they’d suffered.  When he was done, Sepoto pointed towards the far side of the chamber.
“Samson, I want you to take Daelric aloft and investigate that area.  See if there are any traces of magic there, something that might help us to find our way out of the swamp.”
“Are you certain?”  Daelric asked, tentatively.  “It may not be safe.”
“I’m not asking you to touch anything,” Sepoto snapped.  “Just take a look around then come back here.”

Reluctantly, Daelric allowed himself to be carried by the still-flying dragon shaman.  They circled the chamber, Daelric’s spell allowing him to search for other magical auras.  They had just reached the large statue at the far side of the fire pit, when the priest caught the tell-tale gleam of a dweomer coming from within an offering bowl at the statue’s feet.
“There,” he said, pointing down.  “Hold here for a moment so that I can concentrate.”
Samson obliged, hovering in mid-air while Daelric examined the aura.  Suddenly, the giant two-headed statue ground into angry life.  Its tentacles, despite being made of stone, swayed and writhed, and its two fanged maws snapped and gnashed before unleashing a bone-shaking howl.

“No!”  Mandi breathed as she saw what was happening across the room.  “Run, gnome!” she shouted at Urol, and she lifted herself into that air.  Urol needed no further urging.  He darted down the corridor, between the howling ape statues and through the door at the far end.  Marius grabbed his ears as the statue’s howl filled the air, grimacing in pain and fear.  Sepoto barely noticed.  He was already starting across the chamber, but he knew he would be too late.

Daelric managed a single gasp as the creature struck, one of its tentacles ripping him from Samson’s grasp.  It wound tightly about his body, squeezing the breath from his lungs.  Then a second tentacle snapped at him, and he knew no more.  Samson watched in horror as the priest dropped limply to the floor from the statue’s grip.  The little dragon shaman knew that he had no hope of retreat, so he did the only thing that he could…he breathed.  His caustic breath spewed onto the statue’s surface, pitting and scorching as it did.  The creature howled again, and lashed out.  One tentacle snapped forward, twining around the goblin and reeling him in.  Samson felt several ribs snap beneath its crushing strength, and then he was hit again by another of the lashing appendages.  He clung to consciousness with all his will, the mystical vigor of his dragon blood the only thing that sustained him.

Mandi was above the wall of flames, and she could see the entire tableau unfolding beneath her.  Something was wrong with Marius.  He still clutched his ears, and when the creature roared again, he spun towards the door and fled from the room.  The elven wizard knew what it was that they faced.  It was called a Lemorian golem, and it had been forged in the pits of the demon prince Demogorgon.  They were known to serve his cults as focuses for their unholy rites and as guardians of their foul temples and shrines.  It was likely that this thing commanded the bar-lgura, rather than the opposite.  It was equally likely that it was the source of the unnaturalness of Fogmire.  It had to be destroyed.  She began weaving her magic, first hurling an orb of white-hot flame at the creature, followed by a powerful dweomer which slowed the golem’s actions considerably.  Perhaps it would buy Samson a few precious seconds.

By this time Sepoto had closed the distance to the golem.  As it continued to squeeze the life from Samson, the goliath struck.  Huge chunks of the creature’s stony hide flew from each of his blows.  It tried to strike back, but the massive tower shield the crusader bore fended off the attacks.  All the while Mandi continued her own assault, hurling rays of fire, followed by arcane bolts.  The combination of magic and raw strength soon brought the golem crumbling to the floor, and Samson rolled free, gasping for breath.  Rolling to his hands and knees, the dragon shaman scrambled to Daelric’s side.  The priest still lived, but only just.  They had survived, but at what cost?
________________________________________________________________

Daelric and Samson’s wounds were healed, and they found Marius cowering amidst the bone piles in the naga’s lair, Urol by his side offering comfort.  As for Urol himself, though grateful to his rescuers, he remained uncommonly quiet as they made their way out of the shrine.  When they emerged into the jungle once more, they saw that the oppressive fog had lifted and sunlight streamed down through the canopy.  Amella and Tavey were overjoyed to see them, especially Urol.  The crusty sea captain even embraced him warmly and welcomed him back.  

They made camp for one more night, then resumed their southerly trek in the morning.  By the end of the day’s march, Urol had led them to a wide trail, which he recognized and informed the others that it would take them directly to Tanaroa.  Two more days were spent in the jungle before they reached the fifty-foot high wall which guarded the southern peninsula of the isle.  They were challenged by Maztican warriors who stood guard in towers on either side of the massive gates that pierced the wall, but the natives recognized Mandi and Daelric, and allowed the group to pass unmolested.

The company was welcomed warmly in Tanaroa, and spent several days there before being escorted on south to the village of Mora, which lay thirty miles away.  From there, they were put aboard outrigger canoes paddled by Maztican warriors and set out for Farshore.  The colony lay on a small island some twenty miles south of Mora.  As the quest approached, however, it was obvious that trouble was afoot.  Plumes of smoke rose into the air, and screams and the unmistakable sounds of battle reached their ears as they drew closer.  When they finally spotted the harbor, they were at first relieved to see that the Blue Nixie was docked there, along with multiple smaller ships.  This relief turned to dismay, though at the sight of another ship that certainly did not belong.  It was a rugged looking caravel with violet sails, flying a flag with a stylized squid from its main mast.  The pirates of the Kraken Society had come to Farshore…


----------



## Zaruthustran

Nice work, new guys!


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## carborundum

Wow - worth waiting for, JD!
Those new guys are doing their share nicely!

(still miss the dead 'uns though)


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## JollyDoc

Yes, the B team is definately holding their own for now.  As I mentioned earlier, I think Mandi (pronounced Man Die, btw, not Mandy) will show her true colors once the group is settled back in Farshore...assuming there is still a Farshore to settle into.


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## Leinart

Wow who would have thought sepoto would be the boss...Im lovin it. Btw just wanted to throw in some support for samson my favorite survivor.


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## JollyDoc

Leinart said:
			
		

> Wow who would have thought sepoto would be the boss...Im lovin it. Btw just wanted to throw in some support for samson my favorite survivor.




Yes, despite all odds, and I do mean ALL odds, I cannot kill that little cockroach!!  I mean, I had him within five feet of the Lemorian golem.  Daelric was down.  I had him set up for the full attack.  I even managed to grab and constrict him, but then I missed with not one, but two of the follow up attacks!!  Then he turns on his stupid vigor AND self heals!!  He manages to keep himself in single digits until the cavalry arrives.  I swear he's got his own personal Solar watching out for him!


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## Neverwinter Knight

Great stuff, JollyDoc & Co. !!! 

I agree with Leinart, Sepoto has taken on the role of commander of this bunch, though somewhat reluctantly. 



> “Maybe this will help,” Daelric said bitterly as he entered the room. In one hand he held Ilzytik’s head, while in the other was an ape’s paw made of iron, and dripping water. “I found it in the fountain while I was recovering the poor naga’s head, so that he might lie in dignity.”
> Sepoto just rolled his eyes.



Was that roleplaying after the fight with the Spirit Naga or was that your writing, JollyDoc? Charming fellow, that naga.


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## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Great stuff, JollyDoc & Co. !!!
> 
> I agree with Leinart, Sepoto has taken on the role of commander of this bunch, though somewhat reluctantly.
> 
> 
> Was that roleplaying after the fight with the Spirit Naga or was that your writing, JollyDoc? Charming fellow, that naga.





Well, the actually role-playing from Sepoto's character ran more along the lines of, "keep him (Daelric) away from me or I'm gonna kill'im!"  I just smoothed out the rough edges


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## Ika_Greybeard

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Well, the actually role-playing from Sepoto's character ran more along the lines of, "keep him (Daelric) away from me or I'm gonna kill'im!"  I just smoothed out the rough edges




How true and thanks JD Great update. I think it was the best thing for them to have closed the door   the part about Rolling my eyes always Happens after Daelric does anything


----------



## Supar

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> How true and thanks JD Great update. I think it was the best thing for them to have closed the door   the part about Rolling my eyes always Happens after Daelric does anything




sigh save his life and what does he want? more life saving buff him to high hell and what does he want? o just more buffs. you cant win with greed i guesse


----------



## JollyDoc

Hello all.  I felt the need to inform everyone that a loyal member of our game group passed away yesterday.  His name was Ozzie and he was my bulldog.  My icon is a tribute to him.  Oz has been with us for five years, and has never missed a Sunday game session.  From the minute I would start gathering my books to go down to the game room in the basement, he would be up and heading down right in front of me.  He loved the guys, and always occupied a place of honor under our gaming tables, waiting for a stray potato chip or Dorito to drop.  Sundays won't be the same without him.


----------



## karianna

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Hello all.  I felt the need to inform everyone that a loyal member of our game group passed away yesterday.  His name was Ozzie and he was my bulldog.  My icon is a tribute to him.  Oz has been with us for five years, and has never missed a Sunday game session.  From the minute I would start gathering my books to go down to the game room in the basement, he would be up and heading down right in front of me.  He loved the guys, and always occupied a place of honor under our gaming tables, waiting for a stray potato chip or Dorito to drop.  Sundays won't be the same without him.




My condolences, that sucks


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## IanB

It is always hard to lose a pet. My condolences. 

Gfunk - I don't have a spot open for a gamer right now (and I doubt you'd really want to replay Age of Worms anyway ) but if you have any interest in taking up D&D minis, there are groups that meet at Endgame in Oakland, CA, and at Game Kastle in Santa Clara, CA, on Thursday nights. You might also be able to find a group to play with via one of those stores.


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Supar said:
			
		

> sigh save his life and what does he want? more life saving buff him to high hell and what does he want? o just more buffs. you cant win with greed i guesse




huh If I remember correctly you was the one laying on the floor waiting for Death not me. I think we saved your life this time


----------



## Joachim

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> huh If I remember correctly you was the one laying on the floor waiting for Death not me. I think we saved your life this time




Alright now you two...am I going to have to separate you?  Each one of us plays a role in the team, much like the components of a wheel.  The clericky type generally plays the hub, because that's where everything starts and where the wheel gets its stability.  The fighters and wizards and rogues then play the role of the spokes, because they are the one that take that stability and allow our team 'vehicle' to move.

Finally, we also have Samson playing the role of the tire tread...because apparently it's his job to just keep getting run over   .


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Joachim said:
			
		

> Alright now you two...am I going to have to separate you?  Each one of us plays a role in the team, much like the components of a wheel.  The clericky type generally plays the hub, because that's where everything starts and where the wheel gets its stability.  The fighters and wizards and rogues then play the role of the spokes, because they are the one that take that stability and allow our team 'vehicle' to move.
> 
> Finally, we also have Samson playing the role of the tire tread...because apparently it's his job to just keep getting run over   .





Man that analogy fits so Perfect


----------



## Joachim

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> Man that analogy fits so Perfect




No, it's really pretty stupid, but I just liked the idea of giving Thomas heck.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc, very sorry to hear about Ozzie. Five years is not really long enough.

Maybe he could be honored by making the next new character a chaotic good were-bulldog barbarian...or maybe a Wizard of Oz. (No, sorry, that's too cheezy.)


----------



## Joachim

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Maybe he could be honored by making the next new character a chaotic good were-bulldog barbarian...or maybe a Wizard of Oz. (No, sorry, that's too cheezy.)




Well...my PC is named Ozymandia, and she's a Wizard...would that work?


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JD, you decide.  

Sorry about the "too cheezy", Joachim. You'll just have to bring out the evilness some more in the sessions to come.


----------



## JollyDoc

Sunday Night Teaser

1)  The Legion arrives at Farshore and proceeds to swab the deck with the pirates of Rat's End.

2)  The group is reunited with Lavinia and the Jade Ravens.  Anwar's death is not received well.

3)  As if it weren't obvious enough by the fact that a rather crappy group of pirates almost wrecked the town, the Legion discovers that Farshore is woefully unprepared for a greater threat to come.  

4)  Efforts are made to help the local citizens, and Sepoto becomes a fiery pulpit preacher, stoking the fires of patriotism and duty among the masses.

5)  The group pays a diplomatic visit to one of the native Tanaroan villages, and ends up setting off an international incident when they are accused of bringing the wrath of the gods down upon the natives.  Words are exchanged, and the resutling diplomatic overtures are less than well received.


----------



## Joachim

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 1)  The Legion arrives at Farshore and proceeds to swab the deck with the pirates of Rat's End.




This portion of the evening could just as well be titled "Marius Uber Alles".


----------



## carborundum

Excellent!
Normal opponents and personal problems? Sounds like a welcome change from all that Predator vs The Omen in the jungle nightmare!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

carborundum said:
			
		

> Excellent!
> Normal opponents and personal problems? Sounds like a welcome change from all that Predator vs The Omen in the jungle nightmare!



 I second that one. Things will turn worse soon enough.


----------



## Richard Rawen

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> I second that one. Things will turn worse soon enough.




Heh, it's good to see such confidence and optimism . . .  

I'm looking forward to seeing the new group dynamic play out.


----------



## Joachim

*Hasbro Strikes Again!*

Well, I must say that Hasbro's decision regarding Paizo is most disappointing, if not distressing.  I guess WotC/Hasbro/Cthulu Inc. could not stand that another company was making money using 'their' product.  You know what going to e-content means?  "Now we can sell pdf crap for the same price we charge for hard copies, without the troublesome publishing costs.  Hooray!!  Drinks all around!"

As much smack as I have talked about Paizo/Jacobs/et al about inconsistencies, misinterpretation of rules, etc., I feel like I just read the obituary of a relative.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Joachim said:
			
		

> Well, I must say that Hasbro's decision regarding Paizo is most disappointing, if not distressing.  I guess WotC/Hasbro/Cthulu Inc. could not stand that another company was making money using 'their' product.  You know what going to e-content means?  "Now we can sell pdf crap for the same price we charge for hard copies, without the troublesome publishing costs.  Hooray!!  Drinks all around!"
> 
> As much smack as I have talked about Paizo/Jacobs/et al about inconsistencies, misinterpretation of rules, etc., I feel like I just read the obituary of a relative.




  this is indeed a sad notice.

GW


----------



## Hammerhead

Well, Paizo is still making D&D products like their Pathfinder Adventure Path, so it's not like they're going out of business. Now they make adventures without being controlled by The Man (j/k).


----------



## Joachim

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Well, Paizo is still making D&D products like their Pathfinder Adventure Path, so it's not like they're going out of business. Now they make adventures without being controlled by The Man (j/k).




No...now they are going to be just another version of Green Ronin, with the ability to put together modules using Core Rules only, and no access to WotC campaign-specific information (FR, Eberron, etc.).  This decision by Hasbro really does not make any sense at all, outside of an attempt at a cash grab.  Dungeon and Dragon have been absolute staples for the game since before I started playing.  Removing that is going to hurt, especially to the older player set, such as our group.


----------



## gfunk

I absolutely agree w/ Joachim.  Limiting themselves to OGC will preclude Pathfinder from using many monsters that are D&D staples (Illithid, Slaadi, Umber Hulks, etc. are NOT OGC).  Also, if they decide to make new monster and PrCs (likely, given their limited resources) these will not have been extensively play-tested.  Like Joachim said, tie-ins for FR, Eberron, and even Greyhawk will be impossible.

Fortunately for this SH, Savage Tide will be completed before Dungeon goes the way of the dodo.


----------



## JollyDoc

Fortunately, as well, I have a plethora of Dungeon backlogs, just chock full of adventuring goodness.  Hell, I'll invent my own Adventure Path by cobbling together several of those!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

It's really sad to see this happen. The way the Adventure Paths were getting better (AoW and ST were really much better than SC), I would have liked that to continue. As always in the history of DnD, the business decisions by the various players have had many devastating effects on the game. This one seems no different... 

BTW, JollyDoc, maybe you can offset these bad news with an update?  Pretty please?


----------



## JollyDoc

Since you asked so nicely...OK!

FARSHORE

Screams filled the smoke-laden air as cackling, howling men dressed in filthy armor and waving rusty, ragged weapons pressed the attack against Farshore’s unorganized defense.  Up the hill, several buildings had been lit on fire, and issuing from one nearby the piers were frantic screams.  Lying in the sand in front of another building was the body of a well-dressed man with a bloody wound to the chest and a savage gash across his face.  His body was surrounded by fragile glassware spilled from a case he had been carrying.  His chest rose and fell feebly, though for how much longer was uncertain.  
Further south, a large band of filthy men was happily smashing in the windows of what appeared to be a chapel.  More pirates were busy trying to bash in the chapel’s front doors with a heavy, wooden beam.  Terrified screams came from within, and punctuated each of the ram’s blows.
Nearby, a hulking half-orc with blotchy, yellow skin and a leering, toothy smile chased a red-haired young woman around a neighboring building, shouting lurid propositions.
Deeper in the village, a group of young men armed with swords made a stand against what appeared to be the pirate leader, a tall and dangerous-looking man who laughed as he deflected their attacks with obvious ease.  
Finally, a group of colonists desperately tried to extinguish a fire consuming a large building to the southeast, while others braved the flames to rescue its contents.  More commotion could be heard from deeper in the village, but the thick, billowing smoke effectively masked what was transpiring there.

Mandi observed the scene grimly from the bow of the outrigger as the Mazticans rowed them towards the nearest pier.  
“That’s Hevrik Aldwattle,” she said, pointing towards the wounded man.  “He is a local alchemist that I have worked with in the past.  And there,” she indicated the woman trying to elude the half-orc, “that is Ruby the Weaver.  She is a kindly enough sort…for a human.”
“What about those buildings that are in flames?”  Marius asked.
“That one is a farmhouse,” the wizard nodded towards the dwelling where the screams continued to issue from.  “The larger one is the hall of records.”
“Well now,” the Seeker said, rubbing his chin, “we can’t have all that history lost, can we?”  The warmage shook out his sleeves, and began gesticulating grandly, speaking aloud the arcane language of dragons.  To the amazement of those aboard the canoe, a storm of sleet and hail suddenly appeared over the burning hall, and in a matter of moments, the flames were extinguished.  The colonists around it could only stand and gape, open-mouthed.  
“Show off,” Sepoto grumbled.  “Do you think you can do something to slow up that bunch at the chapel?  At the rate these fellows are paddling, the battle will be over before we reach dry land.”
“At your service,” Marius replied, sketching a mock bow.  He began chanting again, concentrating on the group of pirates assaulting the church door.  Cocking his arm back, he palmed a small bead of fire, and then sent it streaking across the water.  The pea exploded several feet behind the ruffians, consuming all three of them, leaving nothing but charred remains.  Their fellows paused in their window-breaking and stared, stunned.  To their credit, however, they did not flee.  Instead, they rushed to retrieve the ram, and redoubled their efforts against the chapel door.

Finally, the boat reached dock, and the Legionnaires hastened to disembark.  As Mandi stepped onto the pier, her form shifted, sprouting gold-fletched wings, and she took to the sky.
“I’m going to see about Aldwattle,” she called over her shoulder.  “Daelric, join me when you can!”
The young priest began moving into the town, following the rapidly moving avoral.  Sepoto, meanwhile, rallied the others around him.
“I’m going to aid the lady,” he said.  “Samson, you make for the chapel.  Marius…do whatever it is you do best.”
“Of course,” the warmage said, gesturing casually and conjuring a second sleet storm around the burning farmhouse, dousing its flames as easily as he had the Hall of Records.

When Mandi reached the injured alchemist, she was relieved to find him still alive.  Though she had no personal feelings for the human, she admired his skill and felt that it would be a waste of resources should he die such a meaningless death.  Rummaging in her belt pouch, she drew out a healing draught and forced it down Aldwattle’s throat.  Though his breathing slowed, and evened out, he remained unconscious.  At that moment, Daelric came huffing and puffing up behind her.
“He’s stable,” the elf said, “but he still needs assistance.  I’ll leave him to you.  I’m going to deal with the ringleader.”  Once more she took to the air, while Daelric knelt beside Aldwattle.  Murmuring a prayer, he cast his hands over the man’s wounds.  The alchemist’s eyes fluttered open, and he gasped as he recognized his savior.
“Daelric?” he asked.  “Is that really you?  We thought you lost!”
“The rumors of my demise were greatly exaggerated,” the priest smiled.  “You, however, have not been so fortunate.  I need to get you to a safe place, and I want you to remain there until this is over.”  
He helped the old man to his feet, draping an arm around his shoulders, and guiding him back into his establishment.

Mandi landed near the town well just as the pirate captain cut down another colonist.  Several men still surrounded him, but now that the elf was close enough to get a good look, she saw, to her dismay, that they were not townsmen, but more cutthroats.  The captain turned slowly towards her.  He was tall, with leathery skin, and he held a wickedly curved rapier in one hand and a punching dagger in the other.  Coils of knotted rope were wrapped around his arms and torso in a tangled display.  Many of them were fashioned into nooses, and hanging from quite a few were morbid trinkets such as jawbones, skeletal hands, and leathery trophies.  From his neck dangled a hangman’s noose.
“Well, well, what be we havin’ here, lads?” he said, leering at Mandi.  “A pretty birdie fer ole Slipknot Peet?  Come a little closer, birdie, and we’ll pluck those feathers right and proper, right mates?”  
The other pirates laughed and hooted, hefting their weapons and moving slowly towards the mage.  Mandi smiled in return, her fingers already beginning to dance.
“Pathetic,” she said as she completed her spell.  The pirates seemed to freeze momentarily in place, and when they began moving again, it was if they were mired in quicksand, laboriously pulling one foot in front of the other.
“She’s a witch!”  Slipknot called.  “She ain’t nothin’ wid’out her magic!  C’mon lads!”  Though slowed himself, he continued to surge forward, waving his men to follow.  A sudden explosion behind him, though, caused his eyes to go wide with shock and dawning fear.  A blast of fire had completely engulfed his comrades, and all that remained of them was ash in man-shaped piles.  A small, grim-faced gnome stepped out of a nearby alley.
“I could have handled this, Marius,” Mandi snapped, a thin pink ray of energy arcing from her outstretched finger to strike the pirate captain in the chest.  Slipknot Peet stumbled and almost fell as his equilibrium left him.
“Yes, but why should I let you have all the fun?” her fellow Seeker replied, another spell already on his lips.  Suddenly, Slipknot’s eyes flew open in rank terror, spittle drooling from his mouth.  He staggered back as best he could, trying to ward off some unseen assailant.
“No!” he cried.  “Cap’n Wyther!  I didn’t mean no harm!  Please!”  
He clutched at his chest, his lips going blue, and then collapsed face-first into the dirt.

Samson arrived at the chapel as the two pirates slammed their makeshift ram into the doors again, causing the wood to splinter.
“Why don’t you two try picking on someone your own size?” the goblin taunted, smacking his morningstar against his palm.  The pair looked at each other, and then back at their diminutive foe and began to laugh.  Dropping the ram, they drew their weapons and started to advance, trying to circle and flank the dragon shaman.  Samson was in motion before they knew what happened, dropping low and catching one man behind the knees, and then spinning to slam the second in his lower spine.  As the first pirate’s legs buckled, the little goblin smashed in his skull.  The second man was still falling forward when Samson stood and snapped his neck with an overhand strike.  Cheers sounded from within the church.

As Sepoto stepped into the road, a few yards from where the half-orc still pursued Ruby, the weaver stumbled, falling heavily to the ground.  The disgusting pirate was after her immediately, but then his eyes fell on the goliath.  Sepoto said nothing, but wagged his finger back and forth.  Snarling, the half-orc leaped at the crusader, only to be cut down before he’d cleared half the distance.  He slammed to the ground, writhing in pain, not knowing how he’d gotten there.  A split-second later he didn’t have to concern himself with it ever again.  Ruby looked up at her hero, her eyes sparkling with tears.  Sepoto helped her to her feet, and she threw her arms around him, covering his neck with kisses of appreciation.  The big goliath just smiled.  ‘Beats a cabin boy,’ he thought to himself.
____________________________________________________________

As the smoke from the battle began to clear, the frightened citizens of Farshore slowly began to emerge from their battered homes and shelters, getting their first good look at their rescuers.  Then, from out of the gloom strode several familiar figures.  In the lead was Lavinia Vanderboren, followed by the Jade Ravens.  Lugnut trailed, dragging a gagging, choking pirate by the neck.  When Lavinia first saw the Legionnaires, her face lit up, but just as quickly that light was replaced by confusion as she began to realize that some were missing, and then dawning grief as she recognized who was among that number.
“Anwar?” she asked, her voice catching.
It was Samson who stepped forward, bowing his head.
“He fell, my lady, while defending Captain Venkalie and the boy, Tavey.  It was a demon.  It cut him down in an eye blink.  His death was quick.  He did not suffer.  Basil and Thrisp were also lost in the demon’s lair as we sought to rescue Urol Forol, whom the demon and its mates had abducted.  I’m sorry to be the bearer of such news.”
Lavinia, through an act of inhuman will, managed to keep the tears that welled in her eyes from falling.  She nodded at Samson’s explanation, and then turned to those she had not met, Daelric and Ozymandia.  Mandi kept her face carefully neutral as she regarded the young noblewoman.  The resemblance was uncanny, and just for a moment, the elf maid felt a pang of loss and regret for what might have been.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Lavinia said, summoning a faint smile.  “I’m Lavinia Vanderboren, and these are some of my retainers, the Jade Ravens.”
“I know who you are,” Mandi said, not unkindly, “though I must admit, I am a bit taken aback at actually meeting you.  And I am intimately familiar with the Order of the Jade Raven.”  
Tolin Kientai and Zan Oldavin looked puzzled.  “I journeyed here with your parents,” Mandi continued, “as a member of the Jade Ravens.  Surely you know that the Order has served your family for decades?  I was actually one of their original number, and so at your father’s behest, my comrades and I came to Farshore.  When your parents departed, they left us behind as their representatives.  Obviously they recruited new members to serve their purposes in Tashluta.  Alas, I am the last of the team left here.  My companions all met with various untimely ends, the last one on the journey that Daelric and I have just returned from.”
“Yes,” Daelric chimed in.  “I too accompanied the original colonists, though at the behest of Vesserin Catherly, the chaplain.  Mandi and I stumbled across what was left of your Legion quite by accident after most of our group had also been taken by the demons.”
“These two have acquitted themselves quite well, my Lady,” Sepoto said.  “We would be well served to have them among our number.”
“You all have my gratitude,” Lavinia responded, though great sadness was still mirrored in her eyes, “and I welcome you to Farshore.”

At that moment, another figure stepped out of the crowd.  He was towering and handsome, with a well-groomed beard and clad in a shining suit of mithral chainmail.  The likeness of his features to those of Avner Meravanchi was uncanny to those who had known the fop.
“Are these the ones you spoke of?” he asked Lavinia without preamble.
“Um…yes,” Lavinia said quickly.  Her normally calm demeanor seemed to tense at the man’s abrupt appearance.  “Lord Manthalay Meravanchi, allow me to introduce my Legionnaires.”
Mandi and Daelric were already well acquainted with Lord Meravanchi.  He too had been among the original colonists, and had provided substantial financial support for the endeavor.  When the Vanderborens departed for Tashluta, they had left Manthalay in charge.  In the interval, with each passing year making it seem less and less likely that the Vanderborens would return, Lord Meravanchi had become the de facto leader of the colony.  It was no secret that he wished to focus Farshore’s efforts at annexing the Seven Villages of the Mazticans so that he might build enough wealth, resources and power to someday return to Tashluta and wrest control of his family from his brother, Zebulah.  Mandi could only imagine what a tailspin Lavinia’s sudden appearance had thrown him into.  She smiled coldly to herself.
“I don’t see my nephew among them,” Manthalay observed, mock-craning his neck.
“Your nephew was lost at sea, when our ship, the Sea Wyvern, grounded itself on a reef,” Samson explained.
“I see,” the older Meravanchi nodded, and something in his tone told Samson that this was not entirely unpleasant news.  “A pity,” the nobleman said.  “I shall be distressed to send such tidings to my brother.  For the moment, however, we have more pressing issues.  I suggest that we retire to the chapel and discuss what has happened here.”
Lavinia nodded her agreement, and turned to follow.  “Lug, bring the prisoner,” she said.  The big ogre jerked the gurgling pirate into the air, until he stared eyeball to eyeball with him.  “C’mon you!  Seems like you got an appointment with the muckety-mucks.  I’m sure they’ll give ya a fair trial, followed by a first class hangin’!”  He guffawed uproariously and dropped the man unceremoniously to the ground, then grabbed one boot and began dragging him towards the chapel.  The Legionnaires followed, as did several of the townspeople, as well as Urol and Amella.  No one noticed the look of cold, stoic rage in the sea captain’s eyes.  Her face had shown no expression during the explanation of Anwar’s death, nor during Lavinia’s tearful reaction.  No, Amella Venkalie was made of sterner stuff, and she would not wear her heart so openly upon her sleeve.  Still, she knew that she must leave Farshore, and soon, or she would lose her mind.
_________________________________________________________

The gathering in the small chapel included Lavinia, the Jade Ravens, the Legionnaires, Urol, Amella, Lord Meravanchi, and the rest of the town council, which consisted of Hevrik Aldwattle, Vesserin Catherly, Telda Syren, a local expert on the flora and fauna of the island, and Ulvar Kabbanja, the leader of the Farshore Militia.  

Lavinia’s first order of business was to ask for damage reports from each of the council members.  Each one spoke of damage done to buildings, a few losses to fire, and a few deaths.  In the end, however, it seemed Farshore had been lucky.  Only ten colonists had been killed.  The pirates were disorganized and had seemed more interested in spreading fear and robbing people than actual destruction.  All agreed that the fortuitous arrival of the Legion may well have been the key factor in weathering the attack with so few deaths.

Next, Lavinia asked for a synopsis of the fate of the Sea Wyvern and her crew, and of the doings of the Legion since the shipwreck.  Sepoto and Samson provided most of the narrative, with Marius filling in various details.  When the topic of Anwar’s death came up again, the young noblewoman bowed her head and covered her eyes with her hand.  As the tale concluded, a man burst into the room, waving a sheaf of papers and babbling excitedly.
“My Lords and Ladies!” he said breathless.  “We found these on the Hellfish, the pirates’ ship.  This was only a scouting party.  The Kraken Society is planning a full scale invasion sometime soon!”

All those present began speaking at once, their cacophony drowning out one another.  Finally, Lavinia banged her gavel on the table before her, calling for order.  When the crowd had settled down, she turned to Lugnut.
“Bring in the prisoner,” she ordered.
The ogre obliged, dragging the pitiful scoundrel in.  The man’s features were bruised and sunken.  His skin was flushed, one of his eyes was blackened, and his left hand was missing, though this latter wound appeared to be an old one.  Lugnut shoved him rudely to the center of the room.  
“What is your name?”  Lavinia asked, her tone calm, but with steel beneath it.
“Lefty, mum,” the pirate mumbled.
“Speak up!”  Lugnut shouted, cuffing the ruffian.
“That will be enough, Lugnut,” Lavinia ordered.  “Lefty,” she continued, “tell us everything you know of this attack, and the plans of the Kraken Society.  If you do, I promise you, it will go much better for you.  If you do not, I promise as well that we will deal as harshly with you as you and your shipmates planned to do with us.”  
Manthalay shot Lavinia a look that went unnoticed by all save Mandi.  She could tell that the noble was not happy with the direction the interrogation was going.
“I understand, mum,” Lefty said, wincing as if he expected another blow from the ogre.  “I’ll tell ye what I know.  We came from Rat’s End, a pimple on the arse end o’th’world outpost on an island not far from’ere.  Our Cap’n, Slipknot Peet, he brung all o’us on this mission, which were supposed t’just be a scoutin’ expedition.  He’d been in touch wit th’high command, usin’ some sort o’magic or other, and they’d promised us a place in th’fleet if we scouted our yer colony fer the next few weeks.  They said a large fleet o’ships was comin’ here on other business, and they planned t’sack yer town then, usin’ what information we’d come up with.  Peet, though, he had other ideas.  He told us we had two months t’loot th’place and escape t’safer waters wit our booty afore the rest o’the fleet got here.”
“How many ships are coming?”  Lavinia asked.  “When, exactly are they scheduled to arrive?”
“Beggin’ yer pardon, mum, but I truly don’t know,” Lefty answered.  When Lugnut raised his arm, the pirate cringed.  “On me life!  I swear it!  The Cap’n never told us how many or when!  He just said we had two months!”
“I believe you,” Lavinia said.  “Your information has been very helpful, and now…”
“And now,” Manthalay interrupted, “you will be executed publicly for your crimes.”
Lefty’s face went pale beneath his bruises and Lugnut grinned.  Lavinia’s face flushed red.
“Lord Meravanchi,” she said, standing “I gave my word to this man that his willing assistance would earn him leniency, and I always keep my word.  He will be put to hard labor, helping to repair the damage he and his men caused.  If he works diligently, in time he may earn his freedom and a place among our colony.  We can always use skilled seamen.”
“I see,” Manthalay said icily.  “You are, of course, correct.  We should reward all those who threaten us with citizenship.  Perhaps when the Kraken Society fleet arrives, we should offer up the whole town to them!”
“Your sarcasm is neither warranted, nor helpful,” Lavinia answered coldly.  “We have urgent matters to discuss here.  It would seem that time is not on our side.  Now,” she turned back to the council members, all of whom had watched the exchange between her and Lord Meravanchi with great interest, “we must prioritize our areas of greatest need so that we may know how best to proceed in preparing our defense.”

The discussion went on for several hours.  In the end, it became obvious that there were five very broad goals that needed to be achieved over the next eight weeks, assuming they truly had that long.  First, there were many places that the town itself could be improved and fortified, including the chapel, the harbor, the infirmary, the militia, the palisade and the watchtowers.  Second, Farshore’s militia wasn’t nearly large enough to defend against a large-scale attack, a fact made painfully obvious by the day’s events.  Without help from the Maztican islanders who dwelt in the nearby Seven Villages, things looked grim indeed.  Third, there were other, stranger tribes of humanoids dwelling in the islands interior, tribes whose aid would doubtless further shore up the town.  The phanatons were one such tribe.  Local legends also told of a race of catlike humanoids called rakastas.  The locals believed that the last of them had died out years ago, but they were renowned for there skill in weapon crafting, and it was possible that hidden caches of such weaponry still existed at the sites of their old temples.  Fourth, many supplies were damaged in the attack, supplies that could be replaced by the cargo still carried by the Sea Wyvern.  For that matter, if the Sea Wyvern herself could be repaired, she could give Farshore a huge advantage in defending against seagoing pirates.  Last, the island itself had many resources that could prove beneficial.  A large tar pit, located deep in the jungle, could supply the colony with tar to shore up defenses and repair damaged ships and buildings, but only if access to the pits could be gained.

The meeting adjourned on this note.  The council would spread the word, and decide how best to go about accomplishing their goals.  As the crowd exited the building, Lavinia called for the Legionnaires to remain.
“You may not have noticed,” she said, “but Lord Meravanchi does not care much for my presence here.  I think it has disrupted his plans.  His expansionist agenda can only serve to fuel hostility towards us among the natives.  I feel in my heart that we must continue on our course of becoming a well-defended trading post, existing in peace with the Mazticans.  Only then can my parents’ dream be realized.  I am asking for your help in the coming days and weeks to be my eyes and ears among the townsfolk.  You have already made a reputation for yourselves, and will be highly regarded among the people.  I fear that Lord Meravanchi will call for an election soon, putting the question of Farshore’s future leadership to a vote.  I will need all the help I can get.
“We are your humble servants, my Lady,” Sepoto said, bowing his head.  Samson and Marius nodded, as did Daelric.  Only Mandi showed no sign of assent or dissent.
_______________________________________________________

Over the next two weeks, the Legion members, those who were not already locals, established themselves as part of the community, pitching in right alongside the townspeople to help prepare for the coming war.  

Mandi returned to Aldwattle’s laboratory, assisting him in putting it right again, and teaching the old alchemist some time-saving techniques which would greatly improve his productivity for the colony.  The elf wizard was also able to direct Urol Forol to Telda Syren at the town greenhouse, and the gnome’s added insight vastly increased her collection of exotic spices, herbs and other plants.

Daelric also returned to familiar environments, convincing Sepoto to come with him to the chapel.  The building was the primary religious center for the settlement, and various faiths shared one roof there.  The main worship room was non-denominational, and numerous small shrines filled alcoves along the walls.  The most popular among these were those devoted to Mielikki, Lathander, and Shaundekal.  Vesserin Catherly was the resident priest, but he had only four acolytes to assist him.  With the arrival of the Blue Nixie, however, he had gained a much more powerful follower in the personage of Bombur, the Jade Raven priest of Moradin.  With the added assistance of Daelric and Sepoto, the spiritual well-being of the colony was markedly improved.  In fact, Sepoto became quite a draw for the chapel’s weekly services, his fiery sermons from the pulpit admonishing the citizens to step up and do their duty.  He presented militia detail as a sacred obligation, for freedom always came with a price.  Furthermore, he spoke of reaching out and bringing spiritual guidance to the Mazticans, subtly espousing Lavinia’s political goals.  It was during these days that Vesserin mentioned to his new recruits that something had been weighing on his conscience for over a year.  A missionary of Lathander named Noltus Inersol, who came to Farshore independent of the other colonists, sought to spread the teachings of his faith up and down the Maztican peninsula.  He spent several days preparing for this mission in Farshore.  He had not been seen nor heard from since, and Vesserin hoped that he still lived.  The priest asked his new allies to keep an eye out for signs of the missing missionary should any of their missions take them into the island’s interior.

The Legionnaires enjoined thr members of the Jade Ravens to assist the town efforts in other ways as well.  Bombur managed to teach Telda Syren some new advances in battlefield triage, so that when the time came, the infirmary would operate at peak efficiency.  In addition, it came to Sepoto’s attention that a small but tenacious tribe of troglodytes that dwelt near the center of Temute Island, had long been problematic for the colonists.  The tribe lived in a sizeable cave overlooking a forest of banana trees that were ideal for lumber, but the colonists could not enter the area for fear of being attacked.  Worse, over recent months, these attacks had crept increasingly closer to the colony’s boundaries.  Sepoto ordered the Jade Ravens to ferret out the trogs, a task which Lugnut took to enthusiastically.  When they returned several days later, the ogre trailed a rope behind him to which had been tied almost two dozen troglodyte heads.  He called it his conga line, after a traditional ogre dance, and would cavort around the town square with it in a grisly parody of the ritual.

Work was started on the building of two new watchtowers to guard the town’s approaches from the east and south.  The entire town was a flurry of activity, and the Legion was in the thick of it.  During all of this, Lavinia was also among the people, echoing Sepoto’s words, entreating the folk to step up and not depend on others to do for them.  They had to help themselves if they were to have any hope of continuing to exist.  She was a natural leader, as anyone could see, and yet Lord Meravanchi was not idle.  His own campaign contradicted Lavinia’s, extolling the virtues of Manifest Destiny.  If the Mazticans were made to join them, they would have the beginnings of a nation, not just a colony.  He also used the example of Lefty the pirate as a means of foretelling just what sort of society Lavinia would create for Farshore…one were criminals were allowed to go free, and decent folk could not feel safe in their own homes.  His words were extreme, but nonetheless, there were those who listened.
_______________________________________________________________

After two weeks, Lavinia appealed to the Legion members to make the journey to Tanaroa.  The natives of the largest of the Seven Villages had been particularly hesitant about supplying aid to the colonists, and since the other six villages looked to the Tanaroans for leadership, they too had been reluctant in their assistance.  If Tanaroa could be convinced to throw in its lot with Farshore, however, the other Mazticans would follow suit.

The trip to Tanaroa took four days, both by canoe and by foot.  As the company neared the village, they could hear a pulsating rhythm being pounded out on hollow logs.  It seemed as if some sort of ritual were taking place.  When they entered the village itself, they saw that the entire population was gathered around a huge, flaming pyre erected at the base of the village’s central pyramid.  Dozens of warriors wearing large masks depicting a monstrous bat, danced to the frenzied beat, while the other natives chanted the same word over and over, “Zotzilaha.” 
“The Maztican god of bats and things that fly in the night,” Mandi explained quietly.  “He also holds influence over the Underworld, and is associated with diseases and plagues.”
“Sounds charming,” Marius smirked.
In the center of the pyre was a charred bat totem, and as the companions drew nearer, the effigy flashed with a sudden blast of brilliance.  A cascade of sparks and flame from the bonfire elicited startled screams from the villagers.  A shape became momentarily visible in the fire as the effigy itself came to life.  A lean, humanoid figure covered in short, black fur rose from the flames, its head that of a snarling bat with glowing red eyes.  Large membranous wings from its back beat against the flames like a bellows, sending hot cinders swirling.  The creature shrieked out a short phrase in Maztican.  Mandi translated, though strangely, Sepoto found that he needed no such assistance.  He understood the creature clearly.
“Zotzilaha hears your sniveling prayers!  You would appease the Great Bat?  Then return what has been stolen or burn!”
The creature then burst into flames, sending a flight of bats with wings of fire spiraling into the air above the totem.  At the same moment, a tremor rumbled through the ground, and in the distance to the northwest, two great volcanoes flashed with fresh plumes of fire and smoke.  The villagers began to panic, and scattered in all directions, the fire bats pursuing them.  All the while, Sepoto instinctively knew that the strange idol they had recovered in Tamoachan, and which he still carried, was the item of which the bat god spoke.

The fire bats continued chasing the panicked natives until a lance of pure sound from Mandi dropped one of them in midair.  At that point, the entire flocked turned on the Legion as one.  The battle was brief, but furious.  Each time one of the diminutive little demons struck, it would attach itself to its victim and begin burning the flesh around it.  Worse still, the wounds inflicted upon the bats healed almost instantly, and as soon as one dropped to the ground, another would revive and resume the assault.  It was Marius who eventually stumbled upon the solution, conjuring a storm of ice and sleet around the beasts.  The cold seemed to sear them as flame would another creature, and the damage inflicted by the barrage did not regenerate.  Soon the air was clear once more, and the villagers began to drift back towards the pyramid.

It was at this point that Sepoto took the bat idol from his pack.
“Remember this?” he asked Marius and Samson.
“Oh no,” the Seeker moaned.  “Don’t tell me that’s what this is all about.”
“What exactly is that?”  Mandi asked, but before Sepoto had a chance to respond, the villagers spotted the idol, and a furor erupted around the Legionnaires.  A moment later, a wizened woman pushed her way through the crowd and stood defiantly before the adventurers, her eyes as hard as steel.  
“You are thieves and defilers!” she shouted in Common.  “It is you who have caused the Fangs of Zotzilaha to shake, and have brought the wrath of the Bat Lord down upon us!”
“You misunderstand,” Mandi said, raising her hands in supplication.  “Explain it to her Sepoto, and it had better be good.”
“We did not steal the idol,” the crusader began.  “We found it within ancient ruins on the mainland.  We had no idea what it was.”
“Liars!” the woman shrieked.  “I, J’kal, chieftain of Tanaroa accuse you of deceit and desecration!  You must return the idol to Zotzilaha’s shrine within Nextepeua, He Who Rains Ashes, in order to appease the god!  If you do not do this, the wrath of my entire village will fall upon you!”
“Now see here,” Mandi said, her ire rising at the gall of the savages, “my friend just told you that we have never been to that volcano.  The idol was found thousands of miles from here.  We would be happy to return it, but I advise to be cautious in the threats that you make.  You saw how we dealt with the bat demons while your warriors fled.  We do not take warnings kindly.”
“Then how about a promise?” J’kal snapped, her voice venom.  “If you do not return the idol this very day, I shall rouse all of the Seven Villages, and we shall march an entire army upon your colony at Farshore!”
“So much for diplomacy,” Marius sighed.


----------



## Hammerhead

Wipe them out. All of them.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Bad time for show and tell. But consider, if you take them all out you might have an easier time convincing the other six tribes. 

Beautiful update, JollyDoc. Again, you have captured the mood of the story perfectly. It's going to be interesting what will happen with Anwar's two girlfriends. His death might even lead to a slightly darker Lavinia than the one in the module...which would be cool.


----------



## carborundum

Great update, JD!
I've started running the STAP now, and the first parts are a great source of Realms-based inspiration now


----------



## gfunk

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> “So much for diplomacy,” Marius sighed.




Nothing a 50 Diplomacy check couldn't solve. 

Still, I like the new Legion, a bit more direct.  I look forward to reading more about the new character backgrounds too.  Also, I do appreciate the reactions of Amella and Lavinia . . . maybe jello wrestling?


----------



## JollyDoc

gfunk said:
			
		

> Nothing a 50 Diplomacy check couldn't solve.
> 
> Still, I like the new Legion, a bit more direct.  I look forward to reading more about the new character backgrounds too.  Also, I do appreciate the reactions of Amella and Lavinia . . . maybe jello wrestling?




Yeah, diplomacy is seriously lacking in the new Legion, a fact that reared its ugly head again tonight.  I plan a bit more drama and intrigue involving Lavinia and Amella.  We'll see how it all plays out.

Sunday Night Teaser:

1)  The group sets out to put things to right with Zotzilaha, and runs smack into the Bat God himself.  Oddly enough, no TPK is involved.

2)  Deciding that, since they were out, they go ahead and check on the tar pits, the Legion interupts one of the legendary monsters of the Isle of Dread during his mid-day phanaton snack.  

3)  After impressing the ewoks...er...phanatons, the Legion finds that gratitude is not what it used to be, even towards "Divine Servants" such as themselves.  Still, an agreement is made with the locals, and more info is gained.

4)  At a hidden temple in the jungle, the heroes are ambushed by a nasty local denizen...which is quickly...pacified.

What do most of the encounters from the evening have in common?  They all have Improved Grab, etc.  And who's our favorite grabbable whipping boy?  Three guesses, and the first two don't count.  Still, the new Legionnaires prove their worth again, as new wrinkles are added to the standard battle tactics.


----------



## Joachim

gfunk said:
			
		

> I look forward to reading more about the new character backgrounds too.




Funny you should mention that...

Since Thrisp met such a quick and unexpected end, and I had to throw together a character very quickly, I didn't really have the chance to come up with a good back story.  I have since hashed one out (and discussed it with our friendly neighborhood DM), and I think that i will start providing some of it in narrative form here.  There is too much going on each week that JD has to chronicle with this Story Hour, and he really has to give equal time to each participant in the story.  In other words, I can't expect his weekly updates to develop our characters for us.

Since I have become a fan of the show Lost (my wife got me seasons 1 and 2 for Valentine's day, and she and I are about 2/3 of the way through season 2 now), I have come to appreciate how they give character background information.  Each episode, one character is spotlighted and then flashbacks are used to show what they did, who they were, etc..  I would like to use that 'mechanic' (for lack of a better word) as the template for writing Ozymandia's history.


----------



## carborundum

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> What do most of the encounters from the evening have in common?  They all have Improved Grab, etc.  And who's our favorite grabbable whipping boy?  Three guesses, and the first two don't count.




Is it one of the, shall we say, more vertically challenged members?


----------



## Leinart

Grappable whipping boy.....God I love samson.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Yeah, go little fellow. If he ever meets a different end than being grappled and (b)eaten, I would be very surprised!  



> our friendly neighborhood DM



Yeah, everybody should have one of those...


----------



## Schmoe

Great update on reaching Farshore!  I'm sure the party misses Anwar right about now.  Then again, his scheming probably would have added a few more complications, so maybe not 

JD, I loved the foreshadowing.  I won't spoil it for the players, but you found two innocuous ways to tie in future possibilities, both of which I thought were brilliant.  I need to try to find opportunities like that more in my own games.


----------



## Supar

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Yeah, go little fellow. If he ever meets a different end than being grappled and (b)eaten, I would be very surprised!
> 
> 
> Yeah, everybody should have one of those...




samson is like a coakroach... THAT GOBLIN JUST WONT DIE! but you know what he does his job like we all do in the legion. His just happens to be leaving a nasty acid after taste when he breaths in monsters mouths.


----------



## Zaruthustran

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Bad time for show and tell. But consider, if you take them all out you might have an easier time convincing the other six tribes.




Holy cow, you're right. For a second there I forgot that this party isn't Good. Can't wait to see how y'all respond.

-z

PS: great work on the update! The personalities of the NPCs, amazingly enough, really shine through.


----------



## Tearlach

Waiting for the update......must hold on....

But seriously, first thing I do on a Friday at work (This is NZ, so today is my Friday) is log in and look for the update.  Its keeps the day a bit brighter whilst I struggle towards the 5.00pm clock!

So, what am I saying? I dont really know.  Keep up the good work, and thanks for giving me something to look forward to on a weekly basis!


----------



## JollyDoc

Tearlach said:
			
		

> Waiting for the update......must hold on....
> 
> But seriously, first thing I do on a Friday at work (This is NZ, so today is my Friday) is log in and look for the update.  Its keeps the day a bit brighter whilst I struggle towards the 5.00pm clock!
> 
> So, what am I saying? I dont really know.  Keep up the good work, and thanks for giving me something to look forward to on a weekly basis!





Why thank you!  I'm glad I can bring a bright spot into the day of a Kiwi!  Hope to have the update up soon!!


----------



## karianna

*Make that 2 kiwis *

Make that 2 kiwis, although this one lives in London for the moment


----------



## carborundum

Add a Paddy to the Kiwis waiting in the nest with open bills, squawking for more JD wormy goodness. Oh, wrong AP!


----------



## theredrobedwizard

Add a welshman (currently living in Indiana) to the list of stereotypes whose dreary lives your stories bring light and happy times.

Also, though I still mourn the loss of the Coolest.Bard.Ever., I am becoming more intrigued by Ms. Mandy.

-TRRW


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

With all these props, how can he resist?  But seriously, this SH really is a highlight and the No. 1  reason I keep coming back to ENWorld.


----------



## JollyDoc

Well, I would hate to deny all of my international and domestic fans their one bright spot of joy in their otherwise mundane lives, so here you go!

GODS AND MONSTERS

It was decided by the Legionnaires that Marius would remain behind in Tanaroa in an attempt to restore some semblance of diplomatic relations.  The others would stay in touch with the warmage via Sending spells, constantly updating him on their progress.  The journey to the Fangs of Zotzilaha itself consisted of a two day slog through mosquito-infested, drippingly humid, trackless jungle.  Yet their goal was always in sight.  The smoking plume of Nextepeua could not be missed.  By dusk of the second day, they had reached the lower slopes of the volcano, and the entrance to the bat god’s shrine was not difficult to find, thanks to J’kal’s instructions.  It consisted of a large cave mouth, its rim marked with bat carvings and numerous niches for offerings.

“If we’re going into a volcano to visit the shrine of a god who summons flaming bats, don’t you think we should be prepared to face extreme heat?”  Daelric offered as the group surveyed the opening skeptically.
“If you’re offering suggestions, we’re listening,” Sepoto grumbled.
“As a matter of fact, I think I have just the thing,” the priest answered brightly.  He gathered his companions close about them, then bowed his head and spoke a prayer to Shaundekal, asking the Traveler to ward them from harm.
“I don’t feel any different,” Sepoto said, swatting a gnat on the back of his bald head.
“Trust me!”  Daelric replied, but somehow, that didn’t make the goliath feel any better.

A tunnel angled downward from the cave opening, disappearing into the bowels of the mountain.  For over an hour they marched, and during that time Sepoto had to acknowledge that Daelric’s magic actually seemed to work.  Though his armor and weapons glowed red with the increased heat the deeper they went, the goliath felt no discomfort from it at all.  The air felt positively balmy.  The sloping lava tunnel eventually widened into a large, round chamber filled with smoke and ash from fissures riddling the rock walls and floor.  A fiery glow and thunderous rumble came from the west, where rents in the cave wall opened out directly into the active volcano’s throat.  The walls of the cave were riddled with niches, some of which contained offerings of food, trinkets and animals, while others were empty or contained only ash.  Through the haze, an eight-foot tall bat leered from where it had been carved in relief out of the far wall.  The bat’s wings rose over its head, with its claws meeting at a curiously shaped niche that appeared to be empty.

“Let me guess,” Sepoto said dryly, “that niche there just happens to be the exact size of our little bauble.”  
As the others watched, the crusader started across the chamber, and reached up to place the bat idol in the slot.
“Sepoto, watch out!” came Daelric’s warning shout from behind him.  The goliath whirled, just as a looming figure stepped out of the molten lava of the volcano’s core.  It looked exactly like the aspect of Zotzilaha they had seen manifest in Tanaroa, and seven of the fiery-winged bats fluttered about its head.  Sepoto braced himself, knowing that there was no way in the Seven Heavens that he would be able to stop a god, even a relatively obscure Maztican one.  He was thus surprised and completely taken aback when the creature heaved a large sigh, and waved its bat minions back into the vents behind it.  In a grating, baritone voice, it began to speak in halting Common.
“Zotzilaha thanks you for returning his treasure.  Know, mortals, that Zotzilaha rewards those who serve him.  You may each choose something of value from his vault.  If you have questions about a prize, you need but ask me.  Choose quickly, for you must leave this place before I grow hungry.”
The divine aspect then gestured, and the bat carving rumbled to life, lifting its wings to reveal an archway leading into a small, square room beyond.  Several items rested in alcoves in the room, including a small wooden coffer filled with platinum coins, an ivory carving of an elephant-headed humanoid gripping a tarnished scepter encrusted with jade, a wooden carving of a tiger with sapphires for eyes, a necklace with a single dragon’s tooth, a gleaming buckler embossed with the symbol of Mielikki, a shining suit of mithral armor, a morningstar wreathed in blue fire, a small, crystal clear, glass ring, a pearl engraved with intricate scrimshaw carvings and glyphs, a perfectly round, smoothly polished stone, an amulet carved in the likeness of a rhinoceros, and a rolled up strip of leather, which obviously contained some item within.

The companions were flabbergasted.  They had come here fully expecting to face the Bat God’s wrath, but instead they were being rewarded…and handsomely so at that.  Would wonders never cease?
“Your pardon,” Daelric said, bowing to the guardian, “but could my choice be that you will send word to the Maztican villagers that we have done your bidding?”
“They will know,” the creature rumbled, “and any token that you bear from here will only bring further proof.”
The guardian then began enumerating all of the valuables in the vault, but paused when he reached the leather-wrapped item.  
“This is not one of Zotzilaha’s treasures,” he said in mild puzzlement.  “Take it from here, and it shall not count against your reward.”
One-by-one the Legionnaires chose their prizes.  When they had finished, they each bowed in turn to the aspect.
“Now go,” he said, inviting no further queries.  They turned and left the shrine, making their way back to the surface.  By the time they had reached the outside again, night had fallen, but Nextepeua was silent, with not a rumble to disturb the quiet of the jungle.
______________________________________________________

“It’s a tooth,” Daelric said, leaning close to study the object Mandi had unwrapped from the piece of leather.
“You don’t have to state the incredibly obvious,” the elf said dryly.  “The merely obvious will do.  I can see that it’s a tooth, but the magical aura I detected from it is overwhelming, on the level with the most powerful of artifacts.  In my studies I’ve never run across mention of such a relic.  Perhaps Marius or Aldwattle will know more, or there may be mention of it in the Hall of Records.”
“Well, we’ll be headed back there soon, so we can just look into it when we get back,” the priest offered.
“I don’t think we’re going back just yet,” Sepoto said thoughtfully, surveying the unfurled map of the island they had brought with them.
“What?  Why not?” Daelric asked.
“Well, if I read this correctly,” the goliath replied, “we’re not far from the tar pits that Lavinia mentioned.  In fact, they’re not more than a day’s walk from here.  She said that if a route to them could be secured, they would provide material for building and ship repairs, such as the Sea Wyvern when we recover it.”
“She didn’t say why the route wasn’t secure though,” Samson chimed in.
“I think I know,” Mandi said cryptically.  “Temauhit-tecuani.”  
_____________________________________________________________________


Sepoto was correct in his assessment, and the journey to the tar pits was completed by late afternoon of the next day.  The problem was that the area the pits covered was immense, encompassing several square miles.  It would take hours to scour the entire region for the creature Mandi had mentioned, so they set about the task immediately.

Temauhit-tecuani, Mandi informed them, was one of the great creatures of legend that inhabited the Isle of Dread.  He was a huge specimen of tyrannosaurus, who had been alive for decades and survived countless attempts to bring him down.  It seemed he had recently claimed the tar pits as his hunting ground, making it quite risky for anyone to gather the valuable tar.  And now it was the Legion’s turn to hunt the venerable hunter.

The company had been searching for two hours when they first heard the sound of enraged roars and strangely high-pitched shrieks of terror and pain tearing through the air.  They rushed through the stand of trees they’d been traversing and came out on a narrow strip of land bordering a lake-sized tar pit.  There they found their quarry.  Temauhit-tecuani was monstrous, horribly scarred and missing one eye, and with one arm ending in a jagged stump.  Hundreds of arrowheads and spearheads were embedded in the thick scar tissue of its hide.  Running in terror before the t-rex were a dozen or more phanatons.  The little creatures looked like a cross between monkey and flying squirrel, and they wore bandoliers across their small chests and carried spears and crude daggers.  At that moment, they were fleeing in blind panic for their lives.

Before any of the other Legionnaires could act, Samson charged out from beneath the jungle canopy, right into the middle of the panicked phanatons.  The little creatures didn’t know what to make of the goblin in their midst, so they swept past him on both sides, leaving the dragon shaman directly in the path of the onrushing dinosaur. 
“That fool!”  Mandi hissed, transforming herself into the form of a small, elemental creature known as an air mephit, and drifting into the air.  “How have you managed to keep him alive this long?”
“Trust me,” Sepoto sighed, “it hasn’t been easy.”
The mage continued higher, until she was sure she was well beyond the dinosaur’s reach, and then she cast again, with Temauhit-tecuani mere yards from Samson.  Abruptly, the t-rex froze in mid-stride, held in place by Mandi’s spell.
“Now!” she shouted.  “I don’t know how long I can hold it!”

Sepoto surged forward, and as he did so, Samson opened his mouth, breathing caustic acid directly onto the immobilized monster.  By this time, the phanatons had reached the relative safety of the trees, and as they turned and saw the newcomers engaging the mythic beast, they began hooting and cheering, leaping excitedly into the air.  Several of them even threw their spears at the t-rex, emboldened by its helpless state.  That was until Temauhit-tecuani roared, breaking free of Mandi’s enchantment and hurled itself forward again.

The Legion struck as a unit, Samson and Sepoto dodging around the legs of the behemoth, raining blows down like dervishes, while Daelric and Mandi provided arcane support, striking with rays of flame and screaming lances of pure sound.  Temauhit-tecuani didn’t pause.  In one terrifyingly swift action, it snapped its head down, seizing Samson in its jaws.  Sepoto continued his assault, screaming to draw the monster’s attention.  Daelric and Mandi struck again, with the priest conjuring a gleaming sword of pure spiritual energy that hacked and harried the brute.  Mandi had another tactic.  Seeing the goblin struggling to keep from being impaled by the dinosaur’s gnashing teeth, or worse yet, swallowed whole, she had an idea.  
“Samson, do not resist me!” she cried.
The dragon shaman breathed a great gout of acid straight down the gullet of the t-rex, and then turned towards her. 
“Just do something!  Anything!”
“Ok,” she muttered, “but just remember, you asked for this.”
She began casting again, and as she completed her spell, Samson’s body began to twist and grow.  His limbs lengthened, his fingers ending in cruelly hooked claws.  His skin became mottled, and green, taking on a leathery texture.  His face elongated, his jaw undershot and sporting large fangs, while his hair turned greasy black, flowing down his back.  In a matter of moments, Temauhit-tecuani no longer held a small goblin in its teeth, but instead a full-grown troll!
“Alright!”  Samson crowed in a guttural voice.  “Now this is more like it!”
Tossing aside his tooth-pick sized morningstar, the troll dragon shaman roared, and tore into the dinosaur, ripping at its soft jowls and gums with tooth and claw.  Temauhit-tecuani howled in pain as it struggled to paw the troll from its mouth with its hind foot.  When it lowered its head, Sepoto struck with all his might, impaling the monster’s skull with his barbed chain.  The dinosaur collapsed as if pole-axed, and Samson tumbled free onto the sand.  The watching phanatons could only gape in shock and awe.  It was as if the gods themselves had come down to save them.
___________________________________________________________

Once Samson had reverted back to his true form, the Legionnaires cautiously approached the huddled phanatons.
“We mean you no harm,” Mandi said in Maztican.  “We came to free the tar pits from Temauhit-tecuani’s reign, and we have also been seeking your people.  Can you take us to your tribe?”
“I  First Tracker Wicket,” one of the tiny creatures said, stepping forward tentatively.  “We thank you muchly for killing the Great One, but we not take you to village.  ‘Tis forbidden.”
“Please,” Mandi said, kneeling down to the phanaton’s level.  “We have come from Farshore.  The village there is in great danger.  We must speak with your chieftain, or this danger could come here to your people.”
Wicket looked uncertain.  He returned to his companions and chattered with them in his native tongue for several minutes.  Finally, he returned, arms crossed over his skinny chest.
“Must have token of faith,” he said, nodding his head assertively.
“I see,” Mandi replied, a sly look in her eyes.  Apparently the path to the village was not so forbidden if the price was right.  “Daelric,” she said in Common, “give me your prayer beads.”
“My…what…why?” he stammered.
“Because I am fully aware that you only wear them for show,” the elf said patiently.  “Your power is innate.  You don’t need them, and these little mercenaries are demanding a tribute.  Give them to me.”
Reluctantly, the priest slipped the wooden beads from his wrist.  Mandi took them, and then held them out to Wicket.
“These are very potent magic,” she said.  “Your shaman can use them to heal the sick of your tribe.”
Wicket took the beads, looked them over briefly, and then nodded.  “We take you.  Come!”  With that, he and his companions were off, bounding thru the trees and undergrowth effortlessly.

The phanaton village, according to Wicket, was two days travel north, deeper into the jungle.  Throughout the trek, the little creatures talked incessantly, with Mandi being forced to translate, when she deemed it necessary.  Mostly they wanted to know everything about their newfound heroes:  where they came from, where they were going, what other monsters had they slain, where did they get their fancy clothes and weapons from, ad nauseum.  At first, Mandi humored them, answering their innocuous queries, but after several hours of this she grew tired and then irritated.  Finally she told them that she and her companions were, in fact, divine agents of Zotzilaha, sent down to work the unfathomable will of their god.  The phanatons were awed by this, even more so when, after the company made camp the first night, she cast a Rope Trick spell, the same one Basil used to use, and explained that she and her fellow celestials could not sleep upon the earth like mere mortals.  They must ascend to the heavens and return at dawn.  As each of the Legionnaires climbed the rope and promptly vanished, the phanatons ooohed and ahhhed, bowing low to the ground.  

Finally, after another day of ceaseless questioning, the expedition reached at the phanaton village.  Word of the heroes and their exploits had already reached the township, and their arrival was one of noisy excitement.  The Legionnaires were welcomed as honored guests, and an impromptu feast of fruits and unusually tasty insects was laid out for them.  During the banquet the phanaton chief, Teketek, questioned the party further about their deeds, and their reason for seeking out his people.  Mandi explained again that Zotzilaha had sent them to watch over the town of Farshore, for servants of His enemies were coming to make war there.  Once Farshore fell, these demons would move inland, first wiping out the Mazticans, and ultimately coming for the phanatons as well. 
“This is why we have come to you,” Mandi concluded.  “Though we are powerful, we are few, and not enough to ward off such a horde as will come for the humans.  We ask you, name of Zotzilaha, to lend your aid.  You will be richly rewarded, both here, and in the hereafter.”
Teketek confided with the village shaman, who was entranced with the prayer bead offering, and agreed enthusiastically.
“It done,” Teketek announced.  “My people help big folk.  I send finest warriors to fight demons.  We be honored among the gods!”
“Precisely,” Mandi nodded with a toothy smile.  “There is one other thing.  We have heard of a race of cat folk known as Rakastas.  Do you know of them?”
Teketek nodded in excitement.  “Cat people lived in Jaguar Temple,” he said.  “Like to make much war.  All gone now.”
“Do you know where this temple is?”  Mandi pressed.
“Oh yes,” Teketek said, “send tracker with you.  Show you way.”
“Excellent,” Mandi smiled again.  “Then we will leave at first light.”
_________________________________________________________

That evening after the feast, the Legionnaires took their leave, explaining to Teketek as they had to Wicket, that they had to return to their divine realm, but would come back at dawn.  This time, Mandi gathered her companions about her and as a group, they vanished, teleporting instantly to the center of Tanaroa village.  The phanatons were duly impressed.

When the group appeared out of thin air at the base of the village temple, the Tanaroans were equally impressed, and startled.  Within minutes, J’kal, Marius and the village zombie master arrived to greet the party.
“F’lar tell me that Zotzilaha spoke to him, and tell him of your victory at temple,” J’kal said in broken Common, indicating the zombie master.  “He also say that you now favored in Zotzilaha’s eyes.  We offer you many apologies for our words, and pledge our service to you.”
Mandi looked haughtily down her nose at the chieftain.  “As well you should,” she said coldly.  “I trust there need be no further discussion of this.  You will send word to the other villages and tell them to rally their forces.  You will then lead your warriors to Farshore before the new moon.”
When J’kal nodded her acceptance, Mandi waved her away dismissively.  “Leave me,” she commanded.  “I must speak with my lieutenant.”

“So I’m your lieutenant now, am I?” Marius asked in amusement.  
“It impresses the locals,” Mandi replied.  She then went on to tell the warmage all that had transpired, concluding with their plan to go on to the Rakasta temple.
“I would like you to get word back to Lavinia,” Sepoto interjected, not altogether happy with the assumed leadership role Mandi had taken upon herself.  “We will Send to you daily.  When and if we discover anything at the temple, we will make plans to rendezvous with you.”
Marius agreed, and the company spent the night in Tanaroa, all of their needs closely tended to by the villagers.
___________________________________________________________

The following morning, Mandi transported the group back to the phanaton village and, as promised, Teketek placed one of his scouts at their disposal.  The Jaguar Temple, it turned out, was not far at all, barely a day’s walk, in fact.  They came upon an abandoned village of huts that had been nearly reclaimed by the jungle.  Looming nearby were the ruins of an ancient temple.  Their guide would not enter the village, and Mandi instructed her to await their return.  If they did not return, she was to return to the village and report, but that everything was to proceed as planned.

The temple itself was a squat ziggurat, embraced by the green of the jungle.  Tall niches along its walls held moss-covered statues of men with jaguar heads.  A natural curtain of thick vines and creepers hung over a wide opening at the base of the southern wall.  As the party drew near the entrance, a sudden flash of movement from above caught Sepoto’s eye.  The goliath glanced up just in time to see an emerald snake, as big as a carriage, lunge at him from a ledge where it had been coiled ten-feet up the wall.  The serpent wrapped itself around the crusader, lifting him easily off his feet and up onto its perch.  Sepoto struggled to draw air into his lungs as the snake began to squeeze.

Mandi reacted instantly, dropping into a crouch as she hurled a spell at the anaconda.  The serpent froze, its jaw unhinged and hanging inches above Sepoto’s head.  Though paralyzed, the snake’s coils still held the goliath fast, but with a groan of superhuman effort, he wrenched himself free, tumbling to the ground below.  Daelric was at his side in a moment, weaving curative magic about him.  The next moment, a hiss from above caused the priest to rapidly back away.  The serpent was free and as Sepoto struggled to his feet, it struck again, once more binding the crusader and crushing his ribs.  Mandi cursed, thought for a moment, and then shrugged her shoulders.  
‘Why not?’ she mused.  ‘The worst that could happen is that it won’t work.’
She cast again, and as her magic struck the anaconda, it began to shrink, dwindling rapidly to the size of a common garden snake, Sepoto slipping free of its deadly grip.
“What did you do?”  Samson asked in awe.
“The same thing I did to you when I transformed you into a troll,” the elf explained, “only in reverse.  The snake won’t be bothering us any further, but I wouldn’t recommend trying to step on it.  It’s tougher than you think.
_____________________________________________________________

Shafts of light from broken portions of wall and ceiling thirty feet above illuminated the large, open chamber within the crumbling pyramid.  The walls were covered with faded murals and bas-relief carvings, while the center of the room was filled with a variety of antique totemic statues facing a central platform, which supported a large jade figurine of a jaguar.  The statues seemed curiously untouched by the passage of time, and retained the finest lines of detail, as if the unknown sculptor had finished the job only yesterday.

“Wait,” Mandi said as Samson and Sepoto began moving towards the statues.  “Something is not right here.”  She began weaving a spell, allowing her to detect any magical dweomers in the chamber.  Besides the ones carried by herself and her companions, the entire area encompassed by the statues radiated a strong illusion enchantment.  Leaning down to pick up a small stone, the wizard tossed it at the statues…and watched it pass right through.
“It’s not real,” she told her companions.  “Concentrate.  Unfocus your gaze and you will see through it.”
The others did as she said, and when they did so, the outline of the figures became insubstantial and transparent, revealing a large pit concealed by the illusion.  Peering over the edge, Mandi saw that the shaft descended almost fifty feet, where it ended in a pool of brackish water.  Halfway down the pit, however, was a narrow ledge with an archway opening from it.  Carved into the wall were niches, forming a ladder that descended to the ledge.  The group made their way down and through the arch, where they found a gently sloping tunnel winding downward into darkness.  The tunnel walls were riddled with niches filled with ancient statues of jaguars looking down from their perches.  Their eyes glittered with red, blue and green gemstones.


----------



## Joachim

This past week, Ozymandia levelled, so I thought that I would go ahead and share her current build:

*Ozymandia 'Mandi' Enoreth (CR 9)*
Female gold elf Wizard 3 / Master Specialist (Transmutation) 6
NE Medium outsider (native)
*Init +2*; *Senses* low-light vision; darkvision 60 feet; Listen -1, Spot -1
*Languages* Common, Elven, Abyssal, Infernal, Celestial, Draconic, Maztican
----------------------------------
*AC* 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12
(+2 Dex, +2 armor), +2 to AC verses ranged attacks
*hp* 51 (9 HD)
*Fort* +7, *Ref* +6, *Will* +11; +2 racial bonus against Enchantment effects
----------------------------------
*Speed* 30 ft. (6 squares)
*Space* 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. 
*Base Atk* +4; Grp +3
*Combat Gear* 12 potions of _cure light wounds_, 3 scrolls of _haste_, 3 scrolls of _benign transposition_, 5 scrolls of _knock_, scroll of _shrink item_ 

*Wizard Spells Prepared* (CL 9th, 10th for Transmutation, 11th for spells from the Polymorph subschool):
     5th - _baleful polymorph_ (x2)(DC 24), _hold monster_ (DC 22)
     4th - _assay spell resistance_, _celerity_, _polymorph_ (x2)
     3rd - _greater mage armor_, _haste_, _slow_ (x2)(DC 22), _sound lance_ (x2)(DC 20)
     2nd - _alter self_ (x2), _rope trick_, _scorching ray_ (x3), _see invisibility_ 
     1st - _grease_ (DC 17), _magic missile _ (x2), _nerveskitter_, _ray of clumsiness_ (x2)(+6 ranged touch), _shield_
     0 - _amanuensis_, _detect magic_ (x3), _message_

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

*Abilities* Str 8, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 24, Wis 14, Cha 8

*SQ* Immunity to _sleep_ effects, able to notice secret or concealed doors, prohibited from using spells from the schools necromancy and illusion, no familiar, immediate magic option (PHB II) _sudden shift_ 7/day, minor school esoterica (transmutation), outsider traits 

*Feats* Collegiate Wizard, Craft Wondrous Item, Greater Spell Focus (Transmutation)(B), Minor Shapeshift, Otherwordly, Scribe Scroll (B), Skill Focus (Spellcraft)(B), Spell Focus (Transmutation)
*Flaw* Innattentive
*Trait* Absent-Minded
*Team Feats* Spell Barrage

*Skills* Concentration +20, Diplomacy +1, Heal +4, Knowledge (arcana) +22, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +20, Knowledge (nature) +20, Knowledge (the planes) +20, Knowledge (geography) +1, Search +9, Spellcraft +24, Survival +4

*Possessions* combat gear plus _Ring of Enduring Arcana_, _Tunic of Steady Spellcasting augmented with +1 resistance bonus to saves and +2 enhancement bonus to Con_, _Third Eye (Penetrate) augmented with +4 enhancement bonus to Int_, _Amulet of Tears_, _Dimension Stride Boots_, _Healing Belt_, _Least Crystal of Arrow Reflection_ (attached to bracers), _Bracers of Armor +2_, _Pearl of Power_ (3rd level), _Pearl of Power_ (4th level)

*Spellbook* spells prepared, plus 0 - all (minus illusion and necromancy); 1st - _benign transposition, expeditious retreat, feather fall, identify, lesser orb of acid, lesser orb of cold, lesser orb of fire, lesser orb of sound, mount_; 2nd - _bear's endurance, fox's cunning, knock, wraithstrike_; 3rd - _dimension step, dispel magic, fireball, fly, water breathing_; 4th - _blast of flame, dimension door, Evard's black tentacles, flame whips, orb of force, solid fog_; 5th - _greater blink, teleport_ 

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

*Hook* "What form shall I take today?  Hmm...decisions, decisions."


----------



## gfunk

Glad to see both Polymorph and Hold spells being used so well.  I know when 3.5 came out, we were somewhat disheartened that both were nerfed.  Very nice demonstration of their utility.


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## Joachim

Considering that none of the PHB polymorph spells (including Alter Self and Shapechange) were subject to the PHB II Polymorph subschool nerf (yeah...we had been playing that wrong), they are all still great spells.  When you have access to the outsider forms as well, it makes things that much nicer.  Even with the extra saves, hold monster is still well worth it as well.

It was so sweet turning that gargantuan snake in one of its much smaller relatives, too.


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## Hammerhead

As an elf, how did you get the outsider type? Otherworldly?


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## JollyDoc

Sunday Night Preview:

1)  The Legion meets a potential ally in the form of a good outsider...and promplty kills him.  Mandi gets a new dress.

2)  Sepoto grows a new tooth and develops sticky fingers.

3)  Back in Farshore, an attempt to thwart a warehouse robbery goes awry when the Legionnaires become the victims.

4)  The Sea Wyvern is revisited, and a squatter protests when the Legion landlords attempt a forceful eviction.  Mayhem ensues.

5)  Lefty the pirate finds himself in hot water again when things start going missing aboard the Blue Nixie.


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## Joachim

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> As an elf, how did you get the outsider type? Otherworldly?




Exactamundo.


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## carborundum

Sweet - an update AND a preview!

Great update again, JD! I can just imagine the look on your players faces under the volcano when they suddenly DIDN'T have to fight 

And it is definitely nice to see polymorph working! I mean, it's nice to see a foe fail a save for a change


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## theredrobedwizard

Waiting, waiting, waiting as patiently as possible.  Ok, not possible.  Sorry, you kid's'll just have to play 5 times a week.

-TRRW


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## Schmoe

JD -

Just wanted to point out that over here, someone is asking which of the 3 APs by Paizo is the "best."  As you're one of the only people I could think of that has first-hand experience on all three, I thought you might be interested.


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## JollyDoc

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> Waiting, waiting, waiting as patiently as possible.  Ok, not possible.  Sorry, you kid's'll just have to play 5 times a week.
> 
> -TRRW




An artist can't be rushed...but in this case it'll probably be tomorrow.


----------



## JollyDoc

VICTORY AT WHAT COST?

Tonatiuh heard the intruders approaching, and quickly rendered himself invisible, crouched and coiled atop his platform.  He had feared this time would come.  The skinwalkers had returned to finish what they’d started years before.  He would not fail his children this time.  This time he would defend their legacy unto his death.  As the interlopers filed into his chamber, he knew that his instincts had been correct.  They did not look like skinwalkers, at least not like any he had ever seen, but besides the goliath, the goblin and the human, there was the winged woman…an erinyes…a fiend!
________________________________________________________

Flickering torches in bamboo sconces lit the tall chamber in which the Legionnaires found themselves.  The walls were adorned with murals of armored men and women with the heads of cats fighting against troglodytes, dinosaurs and other, less-identifiable demonic monsters.  In some scenes, the catfolk rode large saber-toothed tigers, while in others they worshiped at large pyramids.  Ancient pillars carved in leafy patterns supported the twenty-foot high ceiling and surrounded a bamboo platform covered in reed mats.

When Mandi entered the room behind her companions, she gazed intently about, her magically enhanced vision looking for any potentially unseen opponents.  She was not disappointed.  Hidden atop the central platform was a strange creature, which resembled an iridescent serpent with multi-colored feathered wings and tail.  ‘A couatl!’ Mandi thought in alarm.  She had not expected to find such a creature, normally a denizen of the celestial realms, in this place.  She took note of the current fiendish form that she wore and cursed under her breath.  If the creature attacked, she was going to have to put it down and quickly.
‘Don’t worry, servants of darkness,’ a voice spoke into the heads of each of the Legionnaires.  ‘I do not intend on attacking you…that is as long as you leave this sanctuary immediately!”
“Who in the blazes said that?”  Sepoto said with a start, looking around anxiously.
“We’re not alone,” Mandi said aloud.  “There is a being concealed atop the platform.  I see you,” she called out to the couatl in Maztican, “and I know that you see me.  Please do not let my form, or that of my goblin friend alarm you.  While he was once human, I am merely wearing a magical disguise.”
‘It matters not what shape you wear,’ Tonatiuh replied to all of them, ‘but what is in your heart, and I see your heart plainly.’  He directed this last thought to Mandi, though all of the wizard’s cohorts heard.  
‘Our cause is a noble one,’ Mandi replied, speaking only in her mind.  ‘We are representatives from the village of Farshore.  Our people there are in danger of imminent attack by the marauders of the Kraken Society.  We have heard of the weapon craft of the Rakasta, and we have come here seeking their knowledge so that we may better defend ourselves from those that mean us, and this entire island, harm.’
‘The legacy of my children will not be despoiled,’ Tonatiuh replied.  ‘You are probably lying, but even if you are not, your motives may be pure, but your morals are questionable.  I tell you once more…leave now.’
With that, Mandi saw the serpent spread its wings and flap its way near the ceiling of the chamber.  At the same time, the creature began chanting the words to a warding spell.

“Mandi, what’s happening?”  Samson demanded.  “Who, or what are you talking to?”
“It is an Outsider,” the elf replied, being intentionally cryptic.  “It wears the guise of a winged serpent.  You may deduce what you will of that, but I assure you that it has no intention of allowing us to complete our mission.”
“Then let’s all have a look at it,” Daelric said, casting his hands wide, and using his magic to purge the room of any concealing illusions.  Instantly, Tonatiuh became visible, hovering above his platform.  The couatl hissed.
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he spoke into their thoughts, ‘but I will if you do not go…now!’  
He cast again, and as he did so, a heavy silence blanketed the Legionnaires.  Nothing could be heard, not even the sound of their own voices.  Worse, Mandi and Daelric were unable to voice the words to their own spells.

Samson began moving towards the platform, forming words with his thoughts.
‘If you truly mean us no harm,’ he said, sheathing his weapon as he approached, ‘then listen to us.  We are only trying to help preserve innocent lives.  Please help us.’
“Don’t bother, Samson,” Mandi said, and the goblin found that he could hear once more.  Apparently, he had moved beyond the effect of the creature’s spell, and Mandi had flown to the platform as well.  “These creatures are narrow-minded.  They will not hear any opinion which opposes their own narrow world view.  There is no reasoning with them.  As for you,” she said, looking up and addressing the couatl, “I grow weary of being constantly threatened by every creature, civilized or not, on this infernal island!”  
The wizard thrust her hands upward, and a blast of sonic energy hammered Tonatiuh.  At that moment, Sepoto tossed an empty flask to the ground and flew into the air, aiming directly for the couatl.  
‘You have forced my hand!’  Tonatiuh hissed angrily, and the words to a spell began forming.  Instantly, Mandi reacted, hurling a barrage of arcane bolts at the guardian.  Tonatiuh was rocked back with a grunt, his spell dissipating harmlessly.  
“We’ve got him on the ropes!”  Daelric shouted from below, having also removed himself from the silenced area.  “I’ll hold him there!”  The priest then wove his own aura of silence, this time encompassing the couatl.
‘Give us what we came here for,’ Mandi whispered in her head, knowing the couatl could hear her.  ‘We’ll let you live, and you can skulk back to whatever pathetic plane you call home.’
‘Never!’ Tonatiuh shouted mentally for all the Legionnaires to hear.  ‘I failed my children once.  I would sooner die in their name, and may all the gods of the Heavens curse you for your blasphemy!’
‘So be it,’ Mandi thought, and then she released one more volley of sizzling missiles.  Tonatiuh dropped heavily to the ground.

As Mandi scrutinized the platform, searching for the hidden cache that she knew must be there, Sepoto set to work skinning the dead couatl.
“What are you doing?”  Samson asked in disgust.  “Is that really necessary?”  
“Before we left Farshore,” Sepoto explained, not looking up from his work, “the tanner, Tehrik, told us to be on the lookout for any exotic fauna we came across.  He said if he had some rare skins to trade, it would help the town’s economy.  You didn’t complain when we took the dinosaur’s hide.”
“That’s different,” the goblin said.  “That was an animal.  This was an intelligent being.”
“A demonic one, as far as we know.”  Sepoto retorted.
“I don’t know,” Samson sounded uncertain.  “He kept mentioning Celestia and the Heavens.  Would a demon do that?”
“A demon would say anything to save its own hide,” Sepoto shrugged.  “Fortunately for us, we were too smart to listen to this one.”

“I found it!”  Mandi shouted at that moment.  She had discovered a hidden knob which, when she pressed it, caused the entire platform to rise to ceiling level, revealing a hollow area within.  When the others gathered round, their eyes grew wide in wonder.  The cache was filled with gleaming racks of weapons, all of them obviously masterfully crafted.  They set about gathering up the large armory, depositing the weapons into the large bag Sepoto held…a bag which contained an extradimensional pocket capable of holding the entire load.  When they’d finished, Mandi gathered them close around her, pictured Farshore in her mind’s eye, and cast her spell.
____________________________________________________

Lavinia was delighted at the overwhelming success of the Legion during their travels.  Not only had they recovered the valuable weapons, but they had insured the aid of both the Mazticans and the phanatons, and had secured the route to the precious tar pits.

“What of the Sea Wyvern?”  Mandi asked when they had completed their report.
“By all means, that should be your next task,” Lavinia replied.  “Amella tells me that she can have the Blue Nixie outfitted with repair supplies and crew within the week, and then you can be underway.”
“Excellent,” Sepoto said.  “In the mean time, I’m sure there is still much work to do here as well.”

As the week passed, Mandi spent time at the Hall of Records, enlisting the aid of Jeran Emrikad in researching the strange tooth they had found in Zotzilaha’s shrine.  She discovered that it was an ancient artifact known as the Tooth of Ahazu, part of a larger collection known as the Teeth of Dahlver-Nar.  Apparently its former owner, the demon lord Ahazu the Seizer, was known for his obsession with abducting powerful abyssal creatures and imprisoning them in a place called the Well of Darkness.  The item itself did not seem particularly powerful to Mandi.  It required the bearer to physically replace one of his own teeth with it, and merely enabled him to maintain a better hold on an opponent that he might be grappling with.  When she shared this information with her teammates, none of them were particularly interested except Sepoto.
“Why not?” the big goliath shrugged, and while his cringing companions watched, he yanked one of his canine teeth from its socket and replaced it with the fang.
“How do I look?” he asked, smiling awfully with the single, long tooth protruding over his bottom lip.
“Charming,” Mandi replied dryly.

Sepoto enjoyed the strange looks as he walked about town with his new appendage, but it wasn’t until the following morning that he began to suspect there was more to the item than Mandi had told them.  When he woke, he felt chilled, despite the sweltering, humid heat of the jungle.  His skin felt clammy and cold.  As he washed his face in his basin and peered into his mirror, he was shocked to see that the entire inside of his mouth had turned jet black.
“What in the name of the All-Seeing?” he whispered.  
Still, other than these minor cosmetic effects, he felt normal, and yet something nagged at the back of his mind.  As the days passed, he found himself lingering in stores and merchant stalls, fingering small baubles and trinkets.  In the evening, he would find the items in his belt purse, with no knowledge of how they’d gotten there.  He thought of returning them, but then found he couldn’t bear to part with them.  He knew it was wrong, but he felt ambiguous about the morality of it.

Mandi had another project that week as well.  She paid a visit to Tehrik Arrelion, who was jubilant about the prizes the Legion had brought him, and was only to happy to honor the request of the elven wizard.  She commissioned a new gown fashioned from the couatl’s hide.
___________________________________________________________

During the week, it was brought to the attention of Samson, who had been overseeing the storage of the Rakastan weapons, that there had been several recent thefts of supplies and equipment from the warehouses.  This despite increased guards that were posted.  The stolen items came in all shapes and sizes, yet the thief never left any trace of his passage.  Several of the dockworkers speculated about treachery within the town council, and these rumors were spreading.  Samson approached his teammates with a plan to catch the thief in the act.  It was common knowledge in town about the haul of new weapons the Legionnaires had returned with.  It was the dragon shaman’s idea to leak the location of the exact warehouse they would be transferred to, and then have the company lay a trap inside.

The plan seemed to go flawlessly, and yet there was no sign of the burglar all through the night as the companions waited.  Instead, when morning came, several more items were missing from the warehouse, as well as Mandi’s coin purse, a potion flask from Samson’s belt pouch, and a small wand from Sepoto’s belt.  In an effort to save face, Sepoto declared that the Legion had more important matters to attend to, and assigned the task of catching the bandit to the Jade Ravens.  Three nights later, that band killed a strange creature known as an ethereal filcher, a being capable of traveling back and forth at will between dimensions.  Lugnut couldn’t conceal his satisfied smirk as his team turned over the little thing to their “superiors.”

The remainder of the week was spent drumming up more recruits for the militia, and campaigning further for Lavinia’s candidacy for mayor.  The recent exploits of the Legion helped in both endeavors, though it seemed as if the election was still wide open.

By week’s end, Amella had outfitted the Blue Nixies and assembled her crew, including Dranys Sellis, the blacksmith, and Lefty the pirate, who was continuing his efforts to turn over a new leaf by volunteering for the duty.
___________________________________________________________

The Blue Nixie set sail the next day, and though Amella estimated it would take them at least two days to reach Masher Reef, Samson had other ideas.  The dragon shaman pulled a small, paper fan from his tunic.
“And just what do ye plan on doin’ wit’ that?”  Amella snapped.  “Fannin’ us all th’way there?”
“As a matter of fact,” Samson replied, and began waving the fan briskly.  Abruptly, the wind around the ship picked up from a light breeze to strong gusts.  The Blue Nixie surged ahead as its sails filled.
“Hmph,” Amella snorted.  “Where were ye wit dat trick when we lost th’Wyvern?”

The voyage, although brief, was not entirely uneventful.  At one point a brawl broke out between two of the sailors, one of them Lefty.
“What’s goin’ on here?”  Amella roared as she stepped between the two men.
“That scurvy cur stole me purse!” the other sailor shouted, pointing at Lefty.
“I never did!” the pirate protested.  “I been in the riggin’ all mornin’!”
“Do ye have any proof, lad?”  Amella asked the victim.
“I’ve known every man aboard this ship fer years, Cap’n…all ‘cept him, and him an’ his lot tried to kills us all not three weeks past!  Now me purse comes up missin’ an’ there just happens t’be a pirate on ship!”
Amella mulled the matter over for a moment before sighing and turning to Lefty.
“I’m sorry mate, but he has a point.  Fer yer own good, and fer the sake o’harmony onboard, I’m orderin’ ye confined t’quarters fer the duration.”
Lefty protested as he was hauled away, but Amella had made her decision.  From the foc’s’le, Sepoto watched the entire episode in brooding silence.
______________________________________________________

By dawn of the following day, the Blue Nixie was within sight of Masher Reef and the wreck of the Sea Wyvern.  Amella did not feel comfortable bringing the ship any closer than a quarter mile to the derelict, as shipwrecks had a habit of not remaining uninhabited for long.

It was understood that the Legionnaires would scout the Sea Wyvern before the repair crews came aboard, and through various magics, each member was given the power of flight.  They cruised across the waves until they were above the deck of their former vessel.  The wreck seemed just as they’d left it.  A large hole breached the port side, just above water level.  The company landed and methodically began making their way through the various berths and holds, working from top to bottom.  As it happened, Sepoto was the first to enter the half-flooded lower hold, and so it was he that first saw the creature crouched in the water there.  The thing was humanoid from the torso up, but its lower body was serpentine, with a tail consisting of three powerful flukes, each ending in a cruel hook.  Its taloned hands were webbed and its head was that of a horrible, large-eyed fish with facial tentacles surrounding a pucker-like maw filed with tiny, sharp teeth.

“Well look what’s moved in?” the goliath growled.  “The neighborhood ain’t what it used to be.  I’ll tell you one time, friend, and one time only:  get off my boat!”
In response, the creature spoke in a burbling language, and a blade of pure flame materialized in its right hand.  With its left, it beckoned the crusader forward.  Before Sepoto could move, however, Samson soared down the steps past him, his ability to fly keeping him above the water line. 
“Wrong answer,” he smiled, and then unleashed his caustic breath on the aquatic monster.  The thing hissed as its skin blistered and bubbled, and then lunged for the goblin, its fiery sword slashing deep into Samson’s shoulder.  Then its lamprey-like mouth fastened onto the goblin’s arm and tore a sizeable chunk of flesh from it.  At that moment, Sepoto leaped into the fray, his chain ripping across the creature’s already damaged hide.  The thing began to circle, causing the goliath and the dragon shaman to put their backs to the hole in the side of the ship.  The creature’s mouth twisted in a strange expression, and then a sound came from it that could only be the equivalent of laughter.
“Uh-oh,” Samson said, looking over his shoulder.

A reptilian head emerged from the surf beyond the breach, perched atop a sinuous, serpentine neck.  It coiled back and then snapped forward, sinking its teeth deep into Samson’s thigh.  The little goblin stifled a cry and prepared to be jerked off his feet and into the air.  The gods knew it had happened often enough before.  He was surprised, therefore, when the dinosaur released him, and coiled again for another strike.  It didn’t come.  Instead, the amphibious creature used the opportunity to close with him again, hacking with its sword and ripping at him with its clawed free hand.  

At that moment, Mandi appeared at the head of the stairs leading down from the living quarters above.  The elf spat the words to a spell, hurling lines of flame at the kopru, for that’s what it was.  She knew them as an imperialistic aquatic race bent on domination of any other species they encountered.  This one was not a typical example of its species, however, as evidenced by the fact that her scorching rays bounced harmlessly off of its slick hide.  She also recognized that the weapon it held was a spell, not a true sword.  The creature was a druid, and the dinosaur obviously its companion.

Samson quickly turned his attention back to the druid, parrying its attacks and striking through its defenses with his morningstar.  The kopru pressed its advantage, however, cutting harder and deeper.  The dragon shaman knew he wouldn’t last in a toe-to-toe battle.  Fortunately for him, he was not alone.  Sepoto shoved him roughly aside as he stepped in to face the druid.  At the same time, Mandi stepped to the hull breach and targeted the elasmosaur with her next spell…one that paralyzed the creature in mid-strike.  The kopru’s bug-eyes went even wider, and it quickly moved away from Sepoto’s reach…right off the edge of the decking and into the churning water below, disappearing from view.
“Oh no you don’t!” the goliath growled, and dove into the surf after his fleeing opponent, the bloodlust fully upon him.

“I’d better go with him,” Samson said, stepping towards the edge.
“Not yet,” Mandi snapped.  “Take care of that first.”  She gestured towards the frozen dinosaur.  
Samson nodded, moved up to the monster’s outstretched neck, and brought his morningstar down with all his might.  The elasmosaur’s neck snapped with an audible crack, and it slipped limply below the waves.
“Now go,” Mandi said, after Daelric had taken a moment to heal some of the dragon shaman’s graver wounds.  Samson then turned and dove in after Sepoto.

By the time the goblin reached Sepoto, the goliath had already caught up to the kopru and the pair were locked in combat.  The flaming sword of the druid had turned to steam, boiling the water around it.  Still, it was not enough to hold back the rampaging crusader.  Blood clouded the water as he scored blow after telling blow.  Samson dove beneath the kopru, coming up from behind, and drove his cudgel into the back of its skull.  The blood-stained water swirled as the creature floated languidly towards the surface.
______________________________________________________________

Once the Legionnaires were certain there were no more squatters aboard the Sea Wyvern, Amella brought the Blue Nixie to a safe distance from the reef and dropped anchor.  The repair crews then took longboats across to the broken ship and began to assess the damage.  In the end, the endeavor took five days before the Sea Wyvern was seaworthy again.  At high tide of the fifth day, it lifted grandly from its dry dock atop the reef and returned to its home on the sea.  By the time the two ships reached Farshore again, thirty-five days had passed since the attack by the Rat’s End pirates.  Barely three weeks remained until the arrival of the Kraken Society.


----------



## Dantardis

Good update, particularly like the presence of the coatl in the temple, nice for a change for a party to fight a good alignment monster rather than one which is evil.


----------



## theredrobedwizard

Dantardis said:
			
		

> Nice for a change for a party to fight a good alignment monster rather than one which is evil.




You haven't been paying attention to the AP thus far, have you? 

-TRRW


----------



## carborundum

Sweet! Nice update, as usual. I can't quite get the image of a goblin, with that ridiculous tooth sticking out, out of my head. Eeeeewww!
I'm curious as to why Mandi appeared to be an Erinyes, or had I just forgotten something from the previous update?


----------



## Joachim

carborundum said:
			
		

> Sweet! Nice update, as usual. I can't quite get the image of a goblin, with that ridiculous tooth sticking out, out of my head. Eeeeewww!
> I'm curious as to why Mandi appeared to be an Erinyes, or had I just forgotten something from the previous update?




Immediately before entering that chamber, Mandi _polymorphed_ herself into an Erinyes.

And it's Sepoto the goliath, not Samson the goblin, with the ridiculous tooth and urges towards the ol' five-finger-discounts.


----------



## carborundum

Thanks, Joachim! 
My mistake! Which only serves to reinforce the "first coffee, then post" rule.


----------



## Hammerhead

You know, I found Mandi killing the couatl and then making a dress out of it to be hilarious.


----------



## JollyDoc

Sunday Night Teaser

1)  The group returns to Farshore, but promptly gets tired of boring old defensive preparations, and so goes in search of the eighth Maztican Tribe.

2)  Still bored, the Legion then goes in search of wandering xp...er, I mean the missing priest of Lathander

3)  D.Day...the Kraken Society arrives and it's on like Capone.  If you thought Mandi making a dress out of a couatl was hysterical, wait until you see what happens when Mandi goes mano-a-mano with the bunny of doom!  Insert your favorite Monty Python joke here.  We'll call this next update..."Down the Rabbit Hole."


----------



## Joachim

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 3)  D.Day...the Kraken Society arrives and it's on like Capone.  If you thought Mandi making a dress out of a couatl was hysterical, wait until you see what happens when Mandi goes mano-a-mano with the bunny of doom!  Insert your favorite Monty Python joke here.  We'll call this next update..."Down the Rabbit Hole."




Hey man, after two 3rd level spells, two fourth level spells, and a fifth level spell, that rabbit was TOAST!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Ahh, I sense more polymorphing goodness, ahem, badness coming our way! 

I too cracked up about the newest addition to Mandi's wardrobe. That soft celestial skin must feel really nice...


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Ahh, I sense more polymorphing goodness, ahem, badness coming our way!
> 
> I too cracked up about the newest addition to Mandi's wardrobe. That soft celestial skin must feel really nice...




You haven't seen anything until you've seen an ice mephit GRAPPLING with a cute, little white bunny rabbit...and the rabbit wins!!  You will believe a bunny can fly!


----------



## Supar

Joachim said:
			
		

> Hey man, after two 3rd level spells, two fourth level spells, and a fifth level spell, that rabbit was TOAST!





BEWARE THE WHITE RABBIT!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

I think I remember an old AD&D take on the Monty Python vorpal bunny, although I don't remember where. It wasn't in the ENWorld Creature Catalog.


----------



## carborundum

Crikey - what'd they turn into a rabbit? Not ...... a certain major villain?


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Crikey - what'd they turn into a rabbit? Not ...... a certain major villain?




Oh no...nothing so anticlimatic.  Entertaining nonetheless, though.


----------



## carborundum

An answer perfectly in keeping with the word 'teaser'. Can't wait!


----------



## gfunk

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Oh no...nothing so anticlimatic.  Entertaining nonetheless, though.




I think one thing readers have come to expect (and appreciate) is that battles with BBEGs  in JD's campaigns (esp. the "big" bosses) are rarely anticlimactic.


----------



## JollyDoc

TIDES OF DREAD, PART 1:  DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

The townsfolk of Farshore were overjoyed when they saw the Sea Wyvern and the Blue Nixie sail into the harbor.  Once the Hellfish was repaired, they knew they would have a respectable navy for a town their size.  Lavinia and the town council were on hand to welcome the Legion and their crews when they disembarked, anxious for news of what they had encountered.  

The celebratory mood of the town was overshadowed, however, by the knowledge that time was fast slipping away, and there was still much to be done.  In the days that followed, the Legionnaires found their various skills to be redundant, and aside from continuing to campaign on Lavinia’s behalf for the mayoral election, there was little more they could offer.  Sepoto seemed to withdraw more and more from his companions, rarely seen during daylight hours, only to appear prowling the streets at odd hours of the night.  Daelric kept himself occupied with assisting Vesserin Catherly and Bombur at the chapel.  Catherly asked the young priest if they had found any sign, or heard any word of Noltus Innersol during their travels, but Daelric told him they had not.  Samson busied himself with helping Amella in preparations for her hoped-for return journey to Tashluta.  The captain seemed especially anxious to be underway, though she knew she would not be able to leave until after the arrival of the Kraken Society, assuming there was any town still left to establish trade routes for.

Marius and Mandi spent most of their days in the Hall of Records with Jeran Emrikad.  The old man was a storehouse of knowledge, and told them many fascinating details about the island’s history.  One story that particularly intrigued Mandi, was a local legend of a mysterious eighth Maztican village said to have once been located on Temute.  As the story went, the Kawibusas had a marked taste for warfare.  Their warriors and zombie-masters braved the jungles beyond the Great Wall often to explore the ruins of the island’s old gods.  On one of their forays, they uncovered a sunken temple deep within the jungle that contained an idol of a great ape, carved from a thick piece of obsidian encrusted with gemstones.  The Kawibusas proudly carried the stolen idol to their home and placed it at the center of their village.  That very night, a great fog rose up and engulfed their settlement.  By dawn, the entire tribe had mysteriously vanished.  Maztican villagers who went to the site several days later found the Kawibusa village empty, save for the ominous ape idol.  They buried the idol, hoping to end its curse, and never returned.  Since then, the story of the eighth tribe had become a popular tale among the Mazticans.

Mandi felt this would be an excellent opportunity to get the group out of town for awhile and clear their heads.  Marius agreed, for he had been especially worried about Sepoto.  The other Legionnaires agreed as well, and with Jeran’s help, Mandi felt confident she knew the approximate location of the mythical village.  It took a little less than a day of travel before they came to the site, about a mile inland from the northeast coast of the small island.  The ruins of a village were obvious, though the jungle had reclaimed much of it.  It was unclear, however, if their discovery was in fact Kawibusa.  They spread out and began combing through the underbrush, looking for evidence of where the central pyramid had once been located.

It was Daelric who first spotted movement in the jungle out of the corner of his eye.  When he turned that way, he saw a gaunt, humanoid figure rise from the bush.  The creature was emaciated and pale, dressed in the tattered rags of Maztican garb.  Its nails were long and filthy, and its teeth were sharpened into fangs.  It hissed at the priest and began lurching towards him, moving much too quickly for any ordinary zombie.  Then, from all sides there was more movement as five more walking corpses emerged from the jungle.  Daelric quickly backed away, calling for his comrades.  Just as the wights were tightening their circle, a scorching blast of flame came from Daelric’s left, blasting one of the horrors and blistering its decaying flesh.  Marius stepped from behind a fallen statue.  Nearby, Samson leaped from cover, hammering at another of the creatures.  It snapped its sharp teeth together as it turned towards its new prey.  Sepoto, meanwhile, seemed back in his element.  He waded into the midst of the undead, slashing about him.  Quickly, one of the wights fell beneath his onslaught.  As a second one lunged for him, he spun, catching it across the throat, viciously decapitating it.  

The remaining four wights screeched and leapt, snarling at their opponents, one raking Samson with its filth-crusted nails.  As it did so, the dragon shaman felt his flesh go cold, as if his body heat were being leeched away.  He felt fatigued and weakened by the blow, though it was scarcely more than a flesh wound.  That was the first, and only time that the undead laid a claw upon the Legionnaires.  Samson’s opponent went down in a flurry of strikes from the sapped, but still deadly dragon shaman, while Mandi took out two more with a sonic lance of sound followed by a barrage of arcane missiles.  The final kill belonged to Sepoto, and he seemed to take great pleasure in it, wrapping his chain around the wight’s neck like a garrote and twisting the creature’s neck until it snapped.

The wights were the only indication of what might have become of the Kawibusas.  A thorough search of the remainder of the village turned up a treasure trove of ancient Maztican cultural artifacts, including a gold and jade necklace bearing a strange symbol of a circle surrounding two jagged lines.  Daelric identified it as a holy engraving of Zagyg, a demigod of eccentricity and mischief.  He was not a Maztican deity, however, and its presence in the village was yet another mystery.  Of the ape idol, they found no sign, and finally, in resignation, they made their way back to Farshore.
___________________________________________________________

The following week, the town council abruptly announced that the election was to be held that day.  It seemed they felt that a leader needed to be recognized before the coming battle, someone who would take charge of the campaign when the time came.  The entire village turned out to vote, and though the results were close, it was Lavinia Vanderboren who won the day.  She dedicated her win to her parents, and in private she made no secret of the fact that she was fully aware that she could not have secured victory without the aid of the Legion and the Jade Ravens.  Manthalay Meravanchi conceded amiably and with dignity, but Mandi could see the hatred burning in his eyes.  He would bear close watching in the days to come.

The Legionnaires left town again shortly thereafter, ostensibly to go in search of news of the missing Noltus Innersol.  Though their week in the jungle resulted in numerous run-ins with dinosaurs and giant snakes, they found no news of the errant missionary, and once more they returned to Farshore, this time with only days left until the anticipated arrival of the Kraken Society.
______________________________________________________________

Lavinia had employed several small and fast fishing boats to patrol the waters surrounding the southern islands, and on one overcast day near the expected arrival date of the pirates, the scouts returned, reporting that the invading fleet had been sighted.  No more than two hours remained, they estimated, until they would arrive in the harbor.

By this time, both the Maztican and phanaton reinforcements had arrived in Farshore and been trained to fight alongside the militia.  As the town went into crisis mode, these troops were assigned to various strategic positions about the village, with the Jade Ravens commanding various units.  The Sea Wyvern, Blue Nixie and Hellfish were put underway to block the mouth of the harbor.  Lavinia had no illusions that they could hold the fleet for long, or that she might not lose one or more of the vessels, but it was her hope that they would buy the villagers precious time.  As for the Legion, the mayor requested that they remain with her at her estate headquarters.  Runners would be reporting the status of the defense periodically, and Lavinia wanted the Legionnaires to be ready to respond where they were needed most.

Then there was no time remaining.  Violet sails appeared on the horizon, the Kraken insignia prominent upon them.  Five ships in all there were, less than feared but more than hoped for.  When they came within range, they opened fire on the defending vessels, unloading with catapults and ballistae.  The Farshore ships returned fire, but in the midst of the barrage, balls of exploding fire began streaking from the bow of one Kraken Society ship.  The rigging of the Hellfish began to burn.  As the enemy ships drew closer, they began to deploy longboats full of pirates, and though some of these came under fire from the allied navy, most of them slipped through the blockade and made for the docks.  

It had been almost an hour since the fighting began, and runners had been bringing regular reports to the Vanderboren manor.  The latest of these had borne grave news.  One of the Kraken Society ships had broken through the defensive line and dropped anchor in the harbor.  It was the same ship that had firebombed the Hellfish, and now it was doing the same to the town itself.  Several buildings were already in flames.  There was open fighting in the streets, with more pirate boats landing.  Worse, monsters of some sort had literally walked out of the bay and set to systematically dismantling the warehouses by the docks.  At this point, Lavinia turned to the Legionnaires.
“It’s time,” she said quietly.
Sepoto nodded, motioned his team to follow and grimly set out for the wharf.

The air outside was filled with smoke and haze.  Fires could be seen in the distance, and at certain points around town, red plumes of smoke suddenly billowed skyward.  Immediately after, a fireball would streak from the harbor, striking the spot marked by the flare unerringly.
“Hurry,” Sepoto growled.
At that moment, six rough-looking men bearing rapiers and daggers appeared in the street before them.  Shouting in challenge, they waved their weapons and charged forward.  It was their last mistake.  The Legion was in no mood to be delayed by thugs, and they wasted little time or effort in making short work of the pirates.  In a matter of moments, all six lay dead on the ground, and the company continued on, not sparing a backward glance.

When they reached the docks, they found utter chaos.  No militia were visible, but many dead bodies attested to the fact that some defense had been attempted.  Near to hand were four creatures.  They stood head-and-shoulders above Sepoto, and their scarred flesh rippled with muscle.  They were bare-chested, clad only in breeches.  Their skin, where visible, was stitched together rudely, as if by some barber-surgeon.  There was no hint of intelligence in their eyes, only mindless brutality.  Using their bare hands, they ripped apart the walls of the warehouses, leaving gaping holes.  Out in the harbor, a ship was docked.  It bore the purple sails of the Kraken Society, and its nameplate declared it the Stygian Shark.  There seemed to be very few crew on deck, only four individuals.  Three of these looked human at first glance, but on closer inspection it could be seen that their heads were those of serpents.  They bore long, recurved bows in their clawed hands.  The fourth person looked more human than the others, but he had scales instead of skin, and the slitted eyes of a viper.  In his hand he held a slender wand, and it was from this that he sent up balls of fire at the distant, red markers.

Mandi recognized immediately exactly what it was they faced.  The ‘monsters’ were actually flesh golems, body parts stitched together and given life through perverse arcane rituals.  They were as brainless as they were strong, and extremely resistant to magic.  The creatures aboard the ship were yuan-ti, members of a race of snake-like humanoids.  The ones with snake heads were only half-breeds, while the sorcerer was a pure blood.  He was by far the most dangerous opponent they faced.  At that moment, however, the half-bloods opened fire with their bows, one red-fletched arrow sinking deep into Samson’s shoulder.
“Marius!  Mandi!” Sepoto shouted.  “The ship is yours!  Samson and I will take the wrecking crew!  Daelric, you know what to do!”
The priest nodded, and promptly faded from view, courtesy of the enchanted ring he had received from the aspect of Zotzilaha.  He knew his role well…support and healing.  It was up to him to keep the others up and fighting, all while keeping himself out of danger if at all possible.

No sooner had Sepoto issued his commands, than he was on the move with Samson close on his heels.  When they reached the golems, the goliath didn’t hesitate, whirling his chain like a dervish.  The weapon slashed deep, though no blood appeared from the wounds it inflicted, and indeed the wounds themselves seemed more superficial than he would have thought.  Samson, standing beside him, unleashed his acidic breath on two more of the constructs, the acid eating away at their spell-stitched flesh.  Suddenly, the nearest brute swung one log sized arm at the goblin, sending him tumbling backwards, head-over-heels.  

Meanwhile, Marius warmed to his own task.  The warmage was in the process of shaking out his sleeves and preparing to cast, when he saw the yuan-ti sorcerer suddenly take to the air, flying to the top of the ship’s mainmast.  Once there he stabbed a finger right at the little gnome, and from it came a bolt of blue lightning.  It struck Marius unerringly, scorching his robes and causing his hair to stand on end.  Instantly, he felt Daelric’s healing touch upon him.  
“You can dish it out,” the warmage growled at his opponent, “now let’s see if you can take it!”  
The gnome wound up both arms and thrust them towards the ship, a pea-sized ball of fire arcing out over the water.  As it struck the ship, however, it roared into enormous life, completely engulfing the vessel, and even spilling onto the docks at its outer rim, washing over two of the golems.  Though they showed no real damage from the flames, their movements abruptly became sluggish and plodding.  As for the Stygian Shark, its hull and rigging were badly scorched, but not ablaze.  One of the half-breeds was down, and the other two were obviously wounded.  The pure blood’s hair was not so much as singed.  He smiled, showing two sets of long fangs.

“Keep smiling, pit-spawn!” Mandi shouted as she flitted into view not twenty feet from the yuan-ti.  She had assumed the diminutive form of an ice mephit, an elemental creature innately resistant to cold.  Though her shape had changed, her formidable magic was still at her disposal, and she brought it down with a vengeance.  At her spoken command, the yuan-ti’s own body began to shift and flow, shrinking and compacting, with all of his belongings and clothing clattering to the deck below.  In a matter of seconds, where the yuan-ti pureblood had been, there was only a small, white rabbit.  A flying, small, white rabbit.

Back on shore, the battle with the golems raged on.  The creatures were strong, but not fast, and for the most part, Samson and Sepoto managed to evade their blows, while scoring hits of their own quite easily.  Though resistant to the physical damage dealt them, the golems were not wholly immune, and the punishment inflicted upon them began to tell.  Before long, first one, then another went down under Sepoto’s relentless assault.  One of the remaining two tagged Samson again, sending the dragon shaman sprawling.  He was back on his feet in a flash, however, darting in low and swiping viciously at the giant construct before it could react.  A moment later it toppled like a falling oak.  As the little goblin turned to aid Sepoto, he saw that the crusader was doing quite well on his own, the last golem collapsing at his feet.

Marius launched a second fireball at the Stygian shark, felling another of the half-bloods in the explosion.  In addition, this time the ship itself caught fire, the flames rapidly spreading through the rigging and sails.  The remaining yuan-ti looked about in dismay, then dropped its bow and dashed for the railing, leaping over towards the sea below.  As he fell, however, a swarm of magic missiles flew from Marius’ hand.  The half-breed was dead before he hit the water.

Though altered in form, the yuan-ti sorcerer’s mind remained intact, and he knew that his only chance was to flee to one of the other ships.  Wheeling in mid-air, the bunny mage began streaking across the sky, heading out to open sea.  Mandi was not about to let her prey escape so easily.  Beating her small wings furiously, she raced after the rabbit, like a beagle on the hunt.  She closed the distance quickly, putting on a last burst of speed and tackling the bunny in mid-air.  
“Now I’ve got you!” she laughed, and began reversing her flight, dragging the rabbit back towards shore.  At that moment, the bunny mage twisted in her arms, turning itself towards her.  Hind feet scratching, and teeth biting, the little animal fought like a thing possessed.  Mandi found herself losing her grip, and with a final kick of its powerful back legs, the rabbit broke free, zipping away once more.  
“Enough of this,” Mandi hissed as she decided to let her magic do her pursuing.  A sonic lance shot from her hand, hammering into the fleeing sorcerer.  Silently, its little rabbit’s feet churning and twitching, it dropped into the water beneath it.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

So the bunny wasn't vorpal after all, but flying. Sounds like fun! 
I think the league is off to a good start. Can't wait to see how they deal with the rest of the invaders!


----------



## carborundum

A great start to the defence!
Mandi must be dead chuffed that so many of her Polymorphs are working - if it's this much fun to read, it must be even better to play!


----------



## Joachim

carborundum said:
			
		

> A great start to the defence!
> Mandi must be dead chuffed that so many of her Polymorphs are working - if it's this much fun to read, it must be even better to play!




Mandi is probably going to have to take it easy and use more pace with spells...I think that I may have overcommitted in that first fight, so it is likely that I will have to let Sepoto & Co. do the lion's share of the work in the next encounters, with my help mostly coming in the form of minor buffing/debuffing.  The good news is that I have pearls of power to help out.

I wasn't going to let that sorceror get away just to have it get another wizard to dispel my polymorph.


----------



## JollyDoc

Sunday Night Teaser:

1)  Just when the Legion if feeling full of themselves at their relatively easy opening victories, a quartet of dancing demons arrives to bring them back down to earth.

2)  The leader of the Kraken Society invasion force makes his entrance, and some old debts are repaid.

3)  As a side note, Marius takes over 200 points of damage throughout the course of the evening...and lives to tell about it!

4)  Gfunk returns to the table as a guest commentator, offering yours truly some excellent rat-bastard DM advice.


----------



## Supar

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Sunday Night Teaser:
> 
> 23) As a side note, Marius takes over 200 points of damage throughout the course of the evening...and lives to tell about it!




go ahead and kiss your favorite neighborhood favored soul for this accomplishment


----------



## falco_k

*Lucky rabbits foot my...*

>Silently, its little rabbit’s feet churning and twitching, it dropped into the water beneath it.

The imagery of this last sentence is just hilarious.


----------



## Zaruthustran

I liked the bit about Mandi losing a Grapple check to a rabbit.

Har har!

-z


----------



## Supar

falco_k said:
			
		

> >Silently, its little rabbit’s feet churning and twitching, it dropped into the water beneath it.
> 
> The imagery of this last sentence is just hilarious.




We had a good laugh at the thought of the guy in a crows nest watching this. "UMM Capn there is a cloud chasing a rabbit. It got the rabbit No the rabbit got away what the hell it just got hit with 2 shots of thunder. Sir i think i need a break"


----------



## Joachim

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> I liked the bit about Mandi losing a Grapple check to a rabbit.
> 
> Har har!
> 
> -z




Yeah...it was two great grapplers against one another...Mandi as a mephit had a total grapple check of +0 while the rabbit had a total of -12.


----------



## JollyDoc

Joachim said:
			
		

> Yeah...it was two great grapplers against one another...Mandi as a mephit had a total grapple check of +0 while the rabbit had a total of -12.




But with a nat 20 roll, that rabbit was rockin' the sh@#!  {FLEX!!}


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Ah, natural 20, my favorite 5%.  Can't wait for the update to see if I can recognize specific elements with gfunk's influence


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Can't wait for the update to see if I can recognize specific elements with gfunk's influence




Or the absence thereof


----------



## JollyDoc

TIDES OF DREAD, PART TWO:  HELL HATH NO FURY

With the docks temporarily secured, the Legion made their way through the town back towards Lavinia’s mansion.  The fighting still raged about them, but as they neared the center of the village they came upon a group of phanatons, Mazticans and pirates who had stopped their melee and were all staring open-mouthed up at the sky.  Following the gaze of the combatants, Mandi could see what drew their rapt attention.  Three creatures circled in the air, high above.  As she watched, a fourth one simply appeared out of nowhere.  Her sharp eyes were able to pick out the details of the winged beings.  They seemed vaguely humanoid, but they were large, taller even than Sepoto.  Their heads were vulture-like, and their talons and feet were distinctly avian in appearance.  The elven wizard had spent many years in her studies, and she knew demons when she saw them.  The creatures were vrocks, shock-troopers of the Abyss.  They were vicious fighters, resistant to magic in general, and elemental magic in particular.  There was something else, something that nagged at the back of her mind yet she couldn’t put her finger on.  Abruptly, three of the demons joined hands in mid-air, and began wheeling and whirling, almost like they were…dancing!

“We have to stop them!” she cried.  “Now!”
“Why?” Sepoto demanded, tearing his eyes away from the spectacle above.
“Because if we don’t,” the wizard replied, “they’re going to kill everyone within two-hundred feet of here.”
“Marius,” Sepoto said, turning to the warmage, “you heard the lady.  Stop them.”
The gnome merely nodded.  He really didn’t need a reason to mete out destruction, but the chance to avert mass homicide seemed like as good an excuse as any.  As he prepared to cast his spell, he saw the fourth demon suddenly shimmer, and then seven duplicates of it appeared, spinning and twirling about it.  At first he feared this was another group of dancers, but then he recognized the spell.  The fiend had merely created illusory images as a distraction.  Annoying, but not insurmountable.  Marius completed his incantation and let fly with his attack.  The fireball streaked right into the midst of the trio of dancing demons before it detonated.  When the flames cleared, however, the circle was still intact.  Two of the demons looked singed, but the other was completely unscathed.

Samson and Sepoto each quickly quaffed elixirs which would allow them to fly up and engage their opponents, but Mandi was quicker on the draw.  Focusing on the dancing demon which she gauged to have been most injured by Marius’ blast, she hurled first a sonic lance at it, and then followed with a glowing orb of pure force.  Exerting such magical effort in rapid succession, however, left her weak and dazed.  She feebly gestured for the two warriors to be on their way.  As they gathered themselves to launch, though, the fourth vrock, its multiple images a blurry confusion of motion, suddenly folded its wings and dove towards the mortals gathered below.  It sensed their intent to disrupt its brethren’s ritual, and it had no intention of allowing them to do so.  It pulled up abruptly, some twenty feet over the heads of the Legionnaires, and opened its hooked beak, an ear-splitting screech filling the air.  So deafening was it, that it left Sepoto and Mandi, along with dozens of Mazticans and phanatons, stunned and addled, unable to think clearly, much less act.

Marius barely noticed the chaos around him.  His only thought was of Mandi’s warning.  The demonic mummers had to be stopped.  Seeing the effect the elf’s force magic had, the warmage conjured his own glowing orb, and hurled it at the wounded vrock.  As the orb impacted, the demon shrieked, losing its grip on the hands of its brothers and spiraling limply towards the ground.  Its fellow dancers shrieked as well, but in anger, not pain.  Instantly, both of them conjured mirror images of themselves and then plummeted towards the heroes.

Samson could see that Sepoto wouldn’t be able to assist him, but the dragon shaman never hesitated.  Leaping into the air, he soared towards the demon whose scream had temporarily neutralized his companions.  As he flew, he gathered his breath, and unleashed it upon the vrock.  To his dismay, the acid seemed to simply roll off the creature’s feathered body like water off a duck’s back.  The demon cackled mockingly, and then dove to meet him, wrapping its taloned arms about him in a bear-hug.  Samson felt himself being crushed against its stinking body, and then there was only pain.  The air around him and the fiend exploded in a black cloud of spores.  They embedded themselves in his skin, burrowing beneath the surface.  No sooner had they done so, than thorn-like sprouts began to exude themselves from his epidermis.  The agony was excruciating.  He could not break free.

Marius could not draw a bead on the demon grappling Samson.  Its dancing, swirling images were too confusing.  Fortunately, the warmage did actually learn something about tactics during his brief time at the academy.  Casting his hand in a wide arc, he launched a salvo of arcane missiles at the vrock.  As the mystic projectiles passed through the images, the illusions winked out of existence.  Two of them actually struck the vrock itself by blind luck.  Still, several images remained, but then a second volley of missiles appeared, rending the remaining figments out of the air.  Marius turned and saw Mandi smiling coldly.
“Dueling 101,” the elf said.  Marius nodded, a satisfied smirk on his face.  It was wiped clean a moment later, however, when one of the diving demons slammed into him, bowling him over before wrapping him tightly in its arms.  Then he too knew Samson’s pain, as the abyssal spores plunged into his body.

Savage the demons might be, Mandi thought, but they were certainly not stupid.  They were deliberately targeting spellcasters.  The remaining one was at the moment headed right for her.  Thinking quickly, she spoke a few words, transforming herself into an exact duplicate of the vrock that was charging her.  Obviously taken aback, the creature slashed at her, but the wizard stepped deftly away.  Not quickly enough, however, as another cloud of spores filled the air.

Sepoto felt about as useful as teats on a bull, so when he saw Samson’s opponent no longer had its illusions to protect it, the crusader streaked into the air towards it.  At that moment, however, a new batch of illusions appeared around the fiend, and it snapped its wings tightly about its body, dropping like a stone to the ground.  As it fell, it maneuvered Samson beneath it to take the brunt of the blow, ramming the dragon shaman into the ground like a pile driver. 

Marius struggled in vain to free himself from his opponent.  With his arms pinned as they were, he could not make the mystic gestures needed to cast his spells.  He was helpless.
“Just hold still for a moment,” a voice whispered from nearby.  It was Daelric.  The priest was still invisible.  Marius felt a hand touch his arm, and in that moment, he was free, wriggling loose from the demon’s grip as if he were a greased pig.  Quickly, he dove clear of the fiend, but not before one of its filthy talons raked down his leg.  Rolling to his feet, he cast another barrage of magic missiles, destroying several of its cloaking images.  The vrock hissed, but it was not looking at Marius.  Instead, its gaze was fixed on the spot where Daelric’s voice had come from.  Reaching out, it grabbed at the space, and then pulled its arms back towards it, something obviously caught in its grip.  It had Daelric.

Sepoto dove for the ground.  He knew that Samson would be dead before he was able to peel away the mirages surrounding the demon, so he did the only thing he could think of.  He closed his eyes and struck, trusting to Savras to guide his blow.  Still, he was a bit surprised when he felt his weapon bite living flesh and heard the vrock scream.  Opening his eyes, he cursed as he saw the bleeding fiend flapping away from him, carrying Samson with it.  

Another flurry of mystic bolts flew from Marius’ hand, stripping away the last of the mirages surrounding the vrock which clutched and ripped at the still-invisible Daelric.  The demon paid the wizard no heed, too caught up in its blood lust to be attentive to its surroundings.  Thus it was totally unprepared when its beaked head was suddenly jerked back and it found itself staring upside down at a snarling goliath.  The last thing it saw was a chain-wrapped fist hammering down towards its face.  

The vrock circled Mandi warily, still obviously puzzled at the sudden appearance of another of its kind.  Mandi seized the opportunity to weave a quick spell, trying the same tactic she had taken with the yuan-ti.  This time, however, no defenseless rabbit appeared in the demon’s place.  Instead, the fiend lunged for her.  She backpedaled as quickly as she could, but the vrock still managed to score a deep gouge across her abdomen with its razor-like claws.  Quickly, the wizard retreated back towards her companions, but the demon was steps behind her.  Suddenly, it veered around her, overtaking and passing her, making a bee-line towards an unsuspecting Marius.
“Marius!” Mandi screamed.
The warmage turned just as the charging vrock reached him, slashing at his shoulder.  To his credit, Marius avoided the worst of the blow, stepping beyond the creature’s reach and retaliating with a triad of scorching rays of fire.  One of the beams merely destroyed an illusory image, but the other two were direct hits.  Hissing, the fiend leaped at him, slicing through his armor as if it were paper, leaving stinging tears in the flesh beneath.  At the same time, it released a cloud of black spores, peppering the approaching form of Sepoto with the tiny barbs.  

Daelric was loose, invisible, and only mildly wounded from his ordeal.  Moving cautiously among the combatants, he quickly laid his hands upon the freely bleeding Marius, murmuring a powerful healing prayer.  No sooner had he worked his magic, however, than the vrock demon struck again, opening a series of new rents in the warmage’s bruised and battered body.  By this time Sepoto had reached the demon, and closing his eyes to block out the confusing swirl of figments surrounding it, he lashed out blindly, hammering his chain into the vrock’s spine.  At the same time, Marius, still standing by some miracle, flung his magic missiles again, struggling to remove the cursed fiend’s defenses.  Spinning quicker than the eye could follow, the demon back-handed the little gnome, sending him reeling.  Marius staggered, and fell to one knee, his head spinning and disoriented.  

Samson was carried under the demon’s arm like a sack of grain until they were several dozen yards from the others.  The vrock then hurled him to the ground, and kicked him with a sharp blow to the ribs.  The creature still had its concealing veil of images, and the dragon shaman could not decide which one to strike.  So, unwittingly imitating Sepoto’s tactics, he closed his eyes and swung, surprised when he actually felt his morningstar connect with solid flesh and bone.  The demon shrieked and kicked him again.  This time, Samson rolled with the blow, letting it carry him several feet away where he leaped upright and disgorged his caustic breath.  Again, the acid seemed to have little effect, but it distracted the vrock long enough for the goblin to dart past it and back towards his companions.  

Once more Daelric applied his healing magics to Marius, and the warmage rose, bloodied but unbowed.  The vrock came for him again, but before it could reach him, it stiffened, then fell face first to the ground.  Behind it, blood-stained morningstar in his hand, stood Samson.  As quickly as his relief came, however, it vanished again when Marius saw the last demon suddenly pop out of thin air above him.  The mage stumbled back, but as he did the fiend caught his ankle in one claw, pulling his feet from under him.  In desperation, Marius threw a hastily worded spell, trying to summon up an image of the vrock’s greatest fear, hoping the sight of it would cause the beast to die of fear.  For a moment, he thought his plan had worked, as the demon’s eyes went wide, and it spoke the word “Master,” in its abyssal tongue.  But the terror vanished a moment later, and the vrock speared the prone gnome with a look of pure hatred.  Suddenly, Marius felt himself jerked, not physically, but magically.  One moment he was staring up at the enraged demon, and the next he was several yards away while Samson stood in his place.  It was Mandi.  She had switched the two with an expertly timed spell.  Sepoto closed on the demon from the rear, and it turned this way and that, trapped between its opponents.  They both raised their weapons to strike, but before they could, the fiend vanished, its appointed time on the Material Plane at an end.
_____________________________________________________________

“The reports are coming in,” Lavinia said, looking exhausted as she paced the courtyard of her home.  “The Kraken forces are in retreat, but they’re determined to make a fight of it.”
“How many casualties have we suffered?”  Sepoto asked.
“I’m not certain,” the noble replied, “but rest assured the number would have been far greater if not for you.”  
Sepoto nodded, “Just fulfilling our promise,” he said.  Had he looked at Mandi at that moment, however, he would have seen a glint of something else in her eyes…bitterness?

At that moment, a runner came dashing through the front gate, huffing and smiling.
“My lady!” he said.  “The pirates are at the wharf!  We’ve almost managed to push them back into the sea!”
“Then it’s over,” Lavinia said, bowing her head.  “Victory is ours.”
“Not quite, dear sister!” came a hollow voice from the rear of the courtyard.  “There’s still the matter of what you owe me!”
Lavinia turned, horrified, her face going pale as she recognized the voice’s owner.  A figure stood atop the garden wall, backlit by the sunset.  His face was vaguely human, but the pointed ears, small horns and red eyes spoke of a far more sinister heritage.  Bat-like wings protruded from his back, while a tail like that of a scorpion, complete with a wickedly barbed stinger, arched over his head.  He wore fine, mithral armor, and carried a longsword in one hand, and a blood-stained sickle in the other.  When he smiled, his tapered fangs flashed evilly.
“Vanthus?”  Lavinia breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
“The same,” Vanthus Vanderboren laughed.  “And while it is true that you have apparently won the day, I will still claim what is mine.  Come with me now, Lavinia, or upon my retreat I will flay the skin from as many of your townsmen as I can catch.  The price of your victory will be terribly high.”
“You filth!” Lavinia cursed, regaining her composure.  “You are no brother of mine!  As far as I’m concerned, Vanthus Vanderboren died the same night my parents did!  You are nothing but a mockery that wears his skin like some monstrous parasite!”  
“I see,” Vanthus replied, his eyes narrowing and his voice lowering dangerously, “Nevertheless, you are coming with me, sister, one way or the other!”

“Not if we have anything to say about it!”  Samson shouted, darting to the base of the wall where Vanthus stood and disgorging a gout of acid at the pirate captain.  Moving with a grace the belied his demonic form, Vanthus dove lithely to one side, evading the blast completely and then rolling nimbly back to his feet.
“It’s a pity I didn’t kill you all back on Parrot Island,” he said, “but my sense of gamesmanship provoked me into at least giving you a chance.  I will correct my mistake this day!”
The fiendish pirate then rose into the air, carried aloft on his great wings.  When he spoke again, his voice boomed across the yard, “Leave!  All of you!  Your fellows are in danger, and I mean my sister no harm!  I only seek her forgiveness!”
“It’s a trick, Lavinia,” Mandi whispered to the noblewoman.  The elf mage’s form had shifted to a tall dwarf-like creature which appeared to be made entirely of stone.  “Your brother has been transformed into a Lemorian, a type of half-demon bred in the pits of Demogorgon’s realm.  As such, he is capable of minor magics like he just attempted.  If that’s his best shot, we have nothing to fear.  Nonetheless, stay behind me.”

Samson and Sepoto quaffed elixirs of flight for the second time that day as Vanthus rose higher into the air.  In unison they leaped into the sky, each coming to a halt on opposite sides of the demonic pirate.  Sepoto struck first, his weapon biting deeply into Vanthus’ black-scaled flesh.  Samson scored a blow as well, though not so telling as the goliath’s.  Snarling, Vanthus drove his blade deep into the goblin’s side.  The wound was burning agony, and Samson saw that the sword dripped black ichor as well as blood when Vanthus withdrew it.  Poison. Laughing, the half-fiend dove between the two warriors, dodging their blows easily.  He plummeted towards the lone figure directly below him…Marius.
“Not again,” the warmage moaned, fumbling a flask from his belt and upending it.  He promptly vanished from view.  Growling, Vanthus pulled up short.  At that moment, a glowing ball of magic struck him from the side.  Howling, he turned in that direction…and saw the Dwarven Ancestor that Mandi had become standing protectively before Lavinia.  With an incoherent howl, Vanthus sped towards them, Samson and Sepoto right behind him.  At that moment, Marius reappeared as a hail of fist-sized rocks appeared above the pirate, hammering him to the ground.  Vanthus quickly climbed to his knees, but before he could rise further, Sepoto was on him, and Vanthus gasped his last as the tip of the goliath’s chain exploded from his chest.
___________________________________________________________

In the end, the battle was a solid victory on the part of the forces of Farshore.  The Kraken Society pirates were defeated with only moderate damage to the town and, amazingly, only four casualties among the townsfolk.  Three of the pirate ships were captured intact, including Vanthus’ own ship, the Brine Harlot.  

In the days following the battle, Farshore was filled with celebration, marred only by funerals for the fallen.  Both the Legion and the Jade Ravens were lauded as heroes, and deservedly so.  Throughout all of it, Lavinia put on a brave face.  Vanthus was buried in the town cemetery in a lonely plot marked only by a simple wooden stake carved with the Vanderboren family crest, Lavinia’s sole concession to any remaining shred of humanity that might have lingered in her brother’s corrupted soul.  To herself she kept the secret of the odd, black pearl she found on Vanthus’ body, and the troubling documents taken from aboard the Brine Harlot.

Some semblance of normalcy returned to the town over the next few weeks, with the Mazticans and the phanatons taking their leave to return to their villages.  Amella Venkalie outfitted the Blue Nixie for another long voyage, and with few words of goodbye, set sail for Tashluta, promising to return within six months time with more supplies and personnel.  With luck, the trade routes dreamt of by Lavinia’s parents would finally be made reality.  The future seemed to hold nothing but promise.
____________________________________________________________

EPILOGUE:

“Come in!  Come in! I’ve been expecting you!”  Jeran Emrikad, the keeper of the Hall of Records, beckoned Mandi and Marius into his office.  
“Your summons sounded urgent,” Mandi said, lowering herself into a comfortable chair.
“And so it was,” Jeran answered, all but bouncing with excitement.  “As you know, as a fellow Seeker, I am always interested in some new mystery to be solved, or some new frontier to be explored.  Well, it just so happens that I have stumbled upon both!  You and your comrades have settled in nicely here, but it is obvious to me that village life does not sit easy with you.  Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me that the traveler’s itch is constantly upon you.”
“I’m not certain I agree with you at all,” Mandi said coolly.  “I’ve been enjoying the time that I have to pursue my research.  Still, you have intrigued me with your…enthusiasm.  Go on with your tale.”
Jeran nodded, a knowing smile on his lips.  “There is a legend,” he began, “but like all legends, it has within it the seeds of truth.  This particular legend involves an ancient temple which reportedly disappeared from all maps hundreds of years ago.  It was known as the Temple of the Celestial Winds, and it was the sanctuary of a mysterious group of sohei, or monastics, known as the Shensite sect.  This temple was located high on a mountain peak, in the distant land of Kara-Tur.  There the Shensites devoted themselves to the worship of powerful, divine nature spirits which they called obah.  Unfortunately for the Shensites, though they were a peaceful sect, the neighbors of Kara-Tur were not.  You have heard of the Tuigan Horde?”
The two mages nodded.
“The kha-khan of the Horde at that time was named Ogobanuk, and his greatest war leader was Ataman Histchok.  It was by pure accident that Histchok and his men stumbled upon the Temple of the Celestial Winds, but when they did they did not hesitate to slaughter all of the sohei.  As they were torturing the Grand Mystic however, or so the legend goes, the dying man uttered a curse that made the conquest of the raiders their prison.  The wrath of the obahs separated the temple from the land and time itself.  In order to remind the Tuigan of what they’d lost, the obahs would periodically allow the temple to reappear, usually at the height of a mighty storm.  While the storm raged, the barbarians could ride free once more, but when it broke again, they would once more become imprisoned.  Now, you may be wondering what all of this has to do with this particular island.”
The two mages nodded again, a bit impatiently this time.
“There is a hidden temple located on the Isle of Dread as well,” Jeran continued.  “It is called the Lost Citadel, and it is thought to be the last bastion of the Maztican “gods” that survived the destruction of their ancient empire.  The Mazticans believe their gods sleep there, awaiting the day the isle reverts to a paradise, and they can rejoin their people again.  I believe something altogether different.  I believe that the random wanderings of the Temple of Celestial Winds are not random at all, and can in fact be predicted to some extent.  I also believe that the temple has appeared on this very island before, giving rise to the legend of the Lost Citadel…and if my calculations are correct, with the coming of the monsoon season, the temple will appear again…within the month, in fact.”
Marius and Mandi stared at the man for several moments.  “And…?”  Mandi asked at length.  “How does this concern us?”
“Don’t you see?”  Jeran asked incredulously.  “This temple would be a treasure-trove of knowledge!  Think of the value this discovery could be to the Seekers!”
“We are the only three Seekers here,” Marius pointed out.
“Yes, but if the Blue Nixie does indeed succeed in her mission, we shall once again have contact with our brethren on the mainland.  I would dare say they would pay handsomely for what that temple might offer.”
“Go on….” Mandi encouraged.


----------



## demiurge1138

Ooh! Sidequest! Or replacement?

(Love that module, incidentally)

Demiurge out.


----------



## gfunk

My suggestion that night on being a rat-bastard (tm) DM included the following:

1. One of the Vrocks uses _telekinesis_ to wrench Sepoto's spiked chain out of his hand.

2. Second Vrock picks up weapon _teleports_ over the ocean and dumps it into the depths.

We actually rolled it out hypothetically and it worked quite well.

Of course, we never actually did this in play.  I have a far more antagonsitic stance (and some would say less healthy) than JD while DMing.


----------



## Joachim

gfunk said:
			
		

> My suggestion that night on being a rat-bastard (tm) DM included the following:
> 
> 1. One of the Vrocks uses _telekinesis_ to wrench Sepoto's spiked chain out of his hand.
> 
> 2. Second Vrock picks up weapon _teleports_ over the ocean and dumps it into the depths.
> 
> We actually rolled it out hypothetically and it worked quite well.
> 
> Of course, we never actually did this in play.  I have a far more antagonsitic stance (and some would say less healthy) than JD while DMing.




Hence, the game would be fun for 1 person...you.


----------



## gfunk

Joachim said:
			
		

> Hence, the game would be fun for 1 person...you.




Like Drago said,



> *I win for me! FOR ME!*


----------



## Schmoe

Oooh, I sense the monsoons bring a storm.  Can't wait


----------



## Joachim

gfunk said:
			
		

> Like Drago said,




No, it would be more appropriate to you his simple line..."You will lose."


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Guys, great job with this victory! I never expected Vanthus to last more than a few rounds, but the Vrocks made things interesting. Marius really took the mother of all beatings this time. I would expect the wizard to become a little more paranoid... 

You should have deserved a little more time off (e.g. for roleplaying - _shudder_  ), but the next hook has been thrown...

Have fun gaming today!


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER:

1)  The hook has indeed been thrown, and the Legion sets off in search of the mythical Temple of Celestial Winds.

2)  Finding said temple is the easy part.  The welcoming committee, however, is less than charitable.  Fortunately, armor clad barbarians don't float very well.

3)  A new "hero" joins the Legion in the form of a lost traveller from the Spine of the World.

4)  The temple exploration begins with a brief, but frightening encounter with a behir.

5)  Once inside, nothing says lovin' like a girallon huggin'.

6)  The new kid inadvertently triggers some internal security, causing the group to rethink their point man, and their route.

7)  Back-tracking, however, only leads to more girallon trouble, and the addition of a few exotic natives from Kara-Tur.  Our new addition shows his Achilles heel, and learns how deadly travelling with the Legion can be.


----------



## Supar

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER:
> 
> 2)  Finding said temple is the easy part.  The welcoming committee, however, is less than charitable.  Fortunately, armor clad barbarians don't float very well.




Bewar the black knight, and its only a flesh wound comes to mind in his fruitless struggles


----------



## gfunk

A new "hero" eh?  Could it be someone decided to do a character swap . . . or did an old player show up?


----------



## Dantardis

What a pity that Vanthus wasn't able to drop his shadow pearl and unleash a savage tide!!!!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Yeah, what was the total score for the Legion at the end of the battle? Must have been top category...


----------



## carborundum

Awesome victory folks!
I'd not expected the vrocks to be quite so tough (even without gfunks sneakiness) but that just goes to show that a well played demon is a joy forever 

Now I'll have to get my hands on that Celestial Winds thingy to see what you're up to next!
Sounds good though.


By the way - have the players had much time for crafting during the adventure? Or are they not the crafty types?


----------



## Joachim

gfunk said:
			
		

> A new "hero" eh?  Could it be someone decided to do a character swap . . . or did an old player show up?




No...new player (one of Bryant's old gamer buddies, and he's a Civil Engineer to boot).  As for his new PC, I have only one thing to say...moo.


----------



## Joachim

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Yeah, what was the total score for the Legion at the end of the battle? Must have been top category...




No.  We didn't have enough ranks in Profession (Worthless), Knowledge (Suboptimal PCs), and Craft (Stupid Plot Device).  If we had those worthwhile skills, then we might have been able to break into the top category.


----------



## Joachim

carborundum said:
			
		

> By the way - have the players had much time for crafting during the adventure? Or are they not the crafty types?




Yes, as a matter of fact we have.  I have put Craft Wondrous Item to...um...uh...'wondrous' use already.


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Yeah, what was the total score for the Legion at the end of the battle? Must have been top category...




They had a grand total of around 2000-2100 VP's, enough to qualify them for Victory but not Triumph.


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Now I'll have to get my hands on that Celestial Winds thingy to see what you're up to next!
> Sounds good though.




It's The Coming Storm, from Dungeon # 136.  I've altered it a bit, but it's fun already!  

BTW, the new character is giving Sepoto a run for his money in the pure melee damage department.  I think our goliath buddy might be developing chain envy, or rather great axe envy.


----------



## Schmoe

Joachim said:
			
		

> No.  We didn't have enough ranks in Profession (Worthless), Knowledge (Suboptimal PCs), and Craft (Stupid Plot Device).  If we had those worthwhile skills, then we might have been able to break into the top category.




Sounds likes those skills might not be as "worthless, sub-optimal, and stupid" as previously thought.  When in doubt, Hulk Smash!


----------



## Schmoe

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> It's The Coming Storm, from Dungeon # 136.  I've altered it a bit, but it's fun already!




I'm really looking forward to seeing how this plays out.  When I first read that adventure, I remember thinking just how chock-full of awesomeness it was.  In fact, I think I posted a thread on the Paizo boards to that effect.  It might not be an appropriate discussion in this thread, but did you (JD) make many modifications to The Coming Storm?  Or are you running it pretty much straight up?  I don't really remember the recommended levels for that, or where the PCs should be in the STAP right now.


----------



## JollyDoc

Schmoe said:
			
		

> I'm really looking forward to seeing how this plays out.  When I first read that adventure, I remember thinking just how chock-full of awesomeness it was.  In fact, I think I posted a thread on the Paizo boards to that effect.  It might not be an appropriate discussion in this thread, but did you (JD) make many modifications to The Coming Storm?  Or are you running it pretty much straight up?  I don't really remember the recommended levels for that, or where the PCs should be in the STAP right now.




Well, that's the reason I'm running it.  Lightless Depths is recommended for 11th level, and most of the group is right at 10th.  The exception is Sepoto.  He is ECL 11, but in reality 10 actual character levels.  So I'm hoping this linker will bring them all into the 11 range.  I'm not modifying it greatly except for the back story.  I think it works well as is.  It's already been challenging for the group, but it is my hope that it is not too challenging.  After all, it is a linker.  However, the last linker I used, way back in Shackled City, was the Black Egg, and IIRC, I killed one PC twice with that one, and perhaps another as well...{shrug}...


----------



## Joachim

Schmoe said:
			
		

> Sounds likes those skills might not be as "worthless, sub-optimal, and stupid" as previously thought.  When in doubt, Hulk Smash!




Tell me, how many PCs actually put max ranks (which it would require to make the checks) in Knowledge (Architecture) and Profession (Farmer)?


----------



## IanB

Allow me to chime in with a hearty BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO for the dwarf ancestor cheese.   That creature is so clearly mis-designed.


----------



## demiurge1138

Joachim said:
			
		

> Tell me, how many PCs actually put max ranks (which it would require to make the checks) in Knowledge (Architecture) and Profession (Farmer)?



I dunno about the farming, but I've seen a lot of Knowledge (architecture) over the years. Good for bringing down buildings.

Demiurge out.


----------



## Joachim

IanB said:
			
		

> Allow me to chime in with a hearty BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO for the dwarf ancestor cheese.   That creature is so clearly mis-designed.




What's good for the goose...


----------



## Supar

demiurge1138 said:
			
		

> I dunno about the farming, but I've seen a lot of Knowledge (architecture) over the years. Good for bringing down buildings.
> 
> Demiurge out.




hmm like a Goliath brandashing a adamantine chain? Power attack 10 full attack > knowledge architecture. Not to mention the later spell ssuch as disentegrate


----------



## Wish

I can see putting a few 1st level ranks in something like Profession (Farmer) to reflect a background, but max ranks?  Really?  What self-respecting archmage spend his spare time harvesting turnips?


----------



## demiurge1138

Supar said:
			
		

> hmm like a Goliath brandashing a adamantine chain? Power attack 10 full attack > knowledge architecture. Not to mention the later spell ssuch as disentegrate



That may be, but at first level? Know (architecture) is what you have to work with. Once you get up there level wise, it can be left behind. As others are saying, it's a background skill that proves handy once in a while. Not the Knowledge I'd put max ranks into, certainly.

Demiurge out.


----------



## Hammerhead

Not really. I mean, there a lot of huge buildings where knocking down walls just won't do a thing, no matter how much damage your spiked chain may be able to do. But if you know exactly which areas to take down, then you can bring the entire building down too. 

Plus, I think it should give you a synergy bonus to find secret doors. 

Although the Coming Storm just illustrates what we already knew. Commoners are broken.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE COMING STORM

The Sea Wyvern dropped anchor off the rocky shore.  The rain was falling steadily by this time, and thunderheads were gathering on the horizon.  
“Ye know we can’t wait fer ya,” Captain Terroli said as he watched Mandi and the others board the longboat.
“I’m well aware of that, Captain,” the elf witch replied coldly.  “As I told you when we left Farshore, it is not necessary.  We have other means of returning.”
The Captain nodded, secretly glad to have the wizard and her cronies off the ship.  Heroes though they were, there was still something about them that didn’t sit easy with him.

The company was ferried to the shore, the rain driving harder at that point, and left there, staring at the mist-shrouded jungle and the forbidding mountains beyond.  Lavinia had given her blessing for the expedition, reasoning that any such excursion that could reveal more to them about their strange new home would be worthwhile.  She had even approved the use of the Sea Wyvern, though with the understanding that it was only a one-way shuttle.  With the monsoons approaching, it would not be safe for the vessel to be at sea, and the colony could ill afford the loss of her.  As Mandi had told the captain, the return journey was the least of her worries.  Even finding the mythical temple Jeran spoke of was only a minor challenge.  The location of the Lost Citadel was well documented.  It would remain to be seen whether it was actually there when they reached it, and whether Jeran’s theory was correct as to its true nature.

The remainder of the day was spent slogging first thru rain-soaked jungle, and then up the slippery, treacherous slopes of the mountains.  Finally, the sun broke briefly through the water-laden clouds as it set behind the western horizon, and the company found themselves standing at the mouth of a long, narrow valley.  Its floor consisted mostly of a raging river of runoff from the storm that continued to lash the peaks.  As quickly as the sun had appeared, it vanished again as a new rage in the storm broke.  Thunder and lightning rumbled in the dark skies above, and torrential rain began falling in horizontal sheets.  Then, at the southern end of the valley, where a moment before there had been only the stark, water-washed wall of the rising cliff, the air and rain danced with some sort of shimmering distortion.  A massive edifice appeared from thin air, perched at the end of the vale as if it had always been there.  A colonnaded temple of some strange architecture seemingly hung from the cliff face, the building rising upon itself in ever higher prominences.  Atop the temple’s roof and looming over what seemed to be the primary entrance, was a great serpentine stone dragon of an unfamiliar species.  It was a massive beast with wings spread and mouth agape as it stared down the valley.  From the mouth of this wyrm fell a steady torrent of water as the runoff from the mountain was collected on the temple roof and redirected through sluices to the stone dragon’s maw.  This torrent fell past the temple steps and added to the rushing flow on the valley’s floor.

As the companions stared in wonder, the great temple doors, behind a flowing waterfall of rain runoff, suddenly opened wide, and a company of mounted warriors leaped through the torrent, the hooves of their steeds seemingly gliding upon the water itself.  Each of them wore exotic scale mail with demonic helms, and they bore cruel-looking scimitars, lances, and recurved bows.  The skins of both riders and mounts looked horribly burned.  With whooping war cries, they thundered along the surface of the river, lowering their lances as they spotted the Legionnaires standing agape at the valley’s mouth.
__________________________________________________________

The warrior crouched in the darkened shadows of the temple foyer.  He had been sleeping, adrift in a sea of nightmares when he heard the shod hooves of the riders clattering on the floor.  From his hiding place, buried in one of the many piles of bones, they could not see him.  There were nine of them, mounted and standing before the great doors as if waiting for something.  He could not imagine what.  He had tried the doors himself on several occasions after his arrival and they always led to the same place…darkness.  Still, it was obvious that the riders expected something to occur.  The great, white apes, he noted, had retreated from their observation points, as frightened of the riders as all the other inhabitants of this cursed place.  Including, he noted with shame, himself.  

It had not always been so.  He had once been a proud warrior and hunter, well respected among his tribe, though he chose solitude more often than their companionship.  Though he was capable of great savagery, the innate viciousness for its own sake of his people disgusted him.  They were little better than animals.  Thus it was on that long ago winter’s day that he had been hunting alone, high in the peaks of the Spine.  He had hunted those trails countless times before, so he had been shocked to find the temple where he knew there had been none previously.  Shocked, and to his eternal regret, curious.  He didn’t know how long ago that was.  Time seemed to have no meaning inside the temple.  He had not known hunger or thirst until now.  Now, for some reason, he was ravenous.  Instead, he’d known only fear…a feeling he had never been acquainted with before.  The riders never traveled alone, and he had found that, in numbers, they were more than his match.  The same went for the four-armed apes and their cat-like pets.  Or was it the other way around?  In any event, the warrior had learned quickly to stay hidden and restrict his movements.  Thus, he knew very little of the temple’s actual design and layout, and had little desire to learn more.  He simply wanted out, and it seemed that the opportunity might finally lie before him.  As the doors opened, and the riders went forth, he crept cautiously onto the terrace and gazed upon a sight he’d not seen for a very long time…earth and sky.  The riders were already well down the valley, but the warrior saw something else.  There were others here, where he’d seen none before, and the riders were moving towards them.  Moving towards them to attack, to victimize and terrorize them they way they had him.  This day would bring many changes in the warrior’s life…starting with vengeance!
______________________________________________________

“They don’t seem very friendly,” Marius commented as the riders drew nearer.
“No, I should say not,” Mandi agreed.  “Of course, that would fit all the tales I’ve heard of the Tuigan.  Rapacious plunderers at best.”
“Then there’ll be no harm in my giving them a ‘warm’ welcome,” the warmage smiled, mirthlessly.  Pushing back his sleeves, he began to cast.  Fire was his stock-in-trade, and it was fire he conjured into the screaming teeth of the storm.  A great ball of it engulfed the riders as they galloped across the water.  As they emerged from the flames, however, the gnome could see that his magic had little effect.  Perhaps their scorched flesh protected them from such things.
“Let’s try something a little different,” Mandi said, and then she too began casting.  Suddenly, from the surface of the water all around the riders, erupted a small forest of writhing, black tentacles.  The horses reared in a panic as the rubbery appendages began reaching for them.  Quickly, and with deadly efficiency, the tentacles began wrapping around both riders and mounts, holding them firmly in place.  Only one of the barbarians escaped their grip, though his steed was held fast.  One horse escaped as well, though its rider was plucked from its back.

Lesser men would have panicked in such circumstances, but the Tuigan were apparently not such.  At their shouts and spurs, several of their mounts wrenched free of the crushing tentacles, as did another of the warriors.  Then, however, the black arms began to squeeze.  One horse screamed as its ribs were crushed, and it was dropped into the raging water, carried briskly down river.  Its rider struggled in mid-air, waved about like a child’s kite.  A second rider burst free of his bonds, hacking at the tentacle that held him.  He and his companion then spurred their mounts forward, out of Evard’s nest.  In unison, they wheeled towards the land-bound Legion, but no sooner had they prepared their charge, than a volley of sizzling blue-bolts from Marius sent one of them sprawling into the rush of the river.  At that same time, an audible snap sounded from the tentacle forest as the lead rider’s horse, and another behind it had their necks broken by the steady pressure of the crushing arms.  

At that moment, Sepoto saw something that made him completely forget about the riders.  Charging towards them, dressed in breastplate and brandishing an enormous axe, was a bipedal creature the size of a small giant.  It had cloven hooves instead of feet, and a savage, bull-like head, with horns the span of a man’s arms from finger-tip to finger-tip.  It was a minotaur, and it was coming right for them.  Sepoto turned, readying his chain and bracing himself for the assault, but then he saw that the bull-man was not looking towards them.  Instead, it was on a direct intercept course for the second free rider.  As the man’s horse left the river, the minotaur struck, slicing the rider cleanly in two before decapitating the horse on the backswing.  
“The enemy of my enemy,” Sepoto shrugged, but he kept a wary eye on the brute.  

Over the next several minutes, the riders continued to struggle against the constricting tentacles.  Time and again, one would break free, and time and again he and his mount would meet their death at the end of Sepoto’s chain or the minotaur’s great axe.  Finally, only the leader of the raiders remained, and despite heroic efforts on his part to free himself, it was in vain.  Marius and Mandi used their magic to pepper him with flames, sonic bursts, and magic missiles.  All the while the minotaur seemed to be taunting the man, beckoning him and then slamming its chest with the handle of its axe.  Ultimately, however, the leader lost his battle, going limp in the grasp of the tentacle, which then cast him into the flood waters.

With the battle over, Mandi dismissed her tentacular spell, and the group cautiously approached the minotaur.
“Greetings,” Mandi said in common, unsure if the beast would understand her.
The minotaur nodded.
“I am Ozymandia,” the wizard continued, “and these are my companions, Sepoto, Marius, Daelric and Samson.”
“Little tongues not say my name,” the minotaur rumbled.  “Can call me Tower Cleaver.”
“How…appropriate,” Mandi said, smiling.  “Do you come from the temple?”
Tower Cleaver nodded, “Trapped there.  No escape.”
“Do you know how long you’ve been in there?”  Mandi asked.
“Not sure,” the minotaur shrugged.  “Found temple in Great Spine.  Go in.  Many creatures there, and bad riders.  When try leave, only black outside.”
“I see…” Mandi said, pursing her lips.  “So you know your way around inside?  You could tell us where these monsters are?”
Tower Cleaver shook his massive head violently.  “No.  Not go far into temple.  Four-armed apes and snake-head tigers too many.  Riders everywhere.  Tower Cleaver have to hide until he see riders leave temple.  Follow.  Now Tower Cleaver free.”
“Do you have any idea where you are?”  Sepoto asked.
“Mountains,” the minotaur answered, “but not Spine.  Warm here.  Spine always cold.”
“Do you mean the Spine of the World?”  Marius chimed in.  “Icewind Dale?”
Tower Cleaver nodded enthusiastically.
“I’m afraid I have bad news for you,” Mandi said sadly.  “You are quite a long way from home.  You are on an island far to the south of your dale, and I believe the only way back for you is to come with us.”
“Come?”  Tower Cleaver looked confused.  “Come where?”
“Well, right now we plan on going back to the temple.”  Mandi answered.  “We have business there.  After, you can return with us to our village and we will see what we can do about returning you to your mountains.”
“What if trapped in temple again?” the minotaur asked, obvious concern in his eyes.
“You’ll have us with you,” Mandi shrugged.  “You’ve seen our powerful magic.  We will be able to escape.”
Tower Cleaver seemed to ponder this for a moment, then stuck out one huge, shaggy paw.  ‘This is the beginning of an interesting friendship,’ Mandi thought to herself.
_______________________________________________________

Shallow water, which cascaded from the mouth of the dragon statue above, swirled down steps that rose to a shadowed terrace at the front of the temple.  The greenish stone building rose in sections to the sides and above, where it clung to the cliff face.  In several places on the ascending roofs, huge beehive-shaped prominences of tarnished bronze lifted into the watery sky.  These domelike roofs were covered in dozens of niches which held shadow-obscured statues that peered down upon any who stood before the temple’s entrance.  Slender columns of polished stone rose fifty feet to support the overhanging roof of the porch itself.  Sinuous serpentine dragon carvings twisted around the columns for their entire length.  A faint tinkling came from wind chimes suspended high overhead, barely audible above the roar of the water.

The company skirted the eastern edge of the pool which fronted the temple stairs from the runoff of rainwater.  There were no lights visible in the shadowed complex.  Only the intermittent flashes of lightning overhead briefly illuminated the gothic façade.  Tower Cleaver had volunteered to take the lead, since he was at least familiar with the temple entrance.  As he began mounting the stairs, however, a sudden lightning strike dispelled the deep shadows of a large alcove he had not noted on his first foray into the temple.  The light briefly revealed a huge creature crouched deep in the recess.  At first glance it appeared to be a blue-scaled dragon, but as it uncoiled itself, it looked more serpentine, save that it sported four pairs of stubby legs along its sinuous body.  The lightning faded, but was immediately repeated, only this time the bolt came from the mouth of the creature itself!  The blast struck the minotaur squarely in the chest, hurling him back down the stairs.  Marius immediately stepped around him, shouting the words to a spell over the cacophony of the raging storm.  The monster’s eyes suddenly went wide in terror, as if it were witnessing its most basic fear.  It tried to retreat back into its alcove, but abruptly it went rigid, then coiled itself into a ball, collapsing onto its side, dead.

“Did you forget about the behir hiding by the door?”  Mandi asked angrily as Sepoto helped Tower Cleaver to his feet.  
“Not see lizard when came before,” the minotaur said, either oblivious to the anger in Mandi’s voice, or unconcerned.
“Well, if there’s anything else we need to know before we stumble across it, I hope that you’ll let us know!” the wizard snapped.
Tower Cleaver nodded, then pointed towards the large, open valves of the temple entrance, concealed behind the waterfall cascading from the mouth of the carved dragon above.
“Strong water,” the minotaur said.  “Tower Cleaver needed running start.  Show you.”
Before anyone could respond, the brute had lowered his head and rushed headlong towards the deluge.  As soon as he stepped into it, however, the force of the water slammed him heavily to the ground, then pushed him along the porch, down the stairs and into the pool below, where he immediately began to flounder.  Mandi rolled her eyes.
“Give me strength,” she muttered, then she turned to Sepoto.  “Do you think you can save cow-boy before he drowns?”
Sepoto smiled, and drew out a small wand.  “Switcheroo!” he said, pointing it first at Samson and then at Tower Cleaver.  In an instant, the minotaur lay coughing and sputtering on the flagstones of the porch, while Samson sank quickly below the surging floodwater.  A moment later, though the dragon shaman soared into the air, landing deftly beside the group, an empty flask in his hand.
“How do you manage to do that?”  Sepoto asked, tapping the flask.  “Drink and hold your breath at the same time?”
Samson raised his head and pointed to the slit-like gills barely visible on both sides of his neck.
“Legacy of the dragon,” he winked.
“Maybe I should join this cult of yours,” Sepoto said.

As Sepoto helped Tower Cleaver to his feet a second time, Mandi stepped in front of the minotaur, and glared up at him.
“Let’s get something straight!” she barked.  “If you are going to travel with us, you’re going to have to do things our way.  Our way does not involve running blindly into a dangerous situation.  This might be what you’re used to you, but need I point out where that tactic got you the last time you tried it?  Stuck in a temple you couldn’t escape?  If you keep this up, we may just forget our little bargain and leave you here forever!”
Mandi turned on her heel and went to stand before the waterfall.
“Little lady have sharp tongue,” Tower Cleaver rumbled.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Sepoto agreed.
After assessing the situation, Mandi nodded to herself then motioned Sepoto, Samson, Daelric and Tower Cleaver forward.  
“I’m going to transport the four of you just beyond the doors,” she said, “then Marius and I will follow.  The only problem is that I can only send three of you at once.  That means you, Daelric, are going to have to be luggage.”
“Oh no!” the priest wailed.  “Not again!  Why do I always have to get into the bag?”
“Because you don’t have a weapon, and you can’t fight worth a damn even if you did!”  Mandi retorted.  “But you do have your skills, and if there’s more trouble in there that our bull-headed friend neglected to mention, those skills might be needed.  Into the sack!”
Sepoto grinned as he held out the large, apparently empty sack.
“How small man fit into smaller sack?” Tower Cleaver asked, scratching his head.
“Magic,” Sepoto replied cryptically.  Illustrating this, Daelric stepped into the bag, drawing it up past his waist, shoulders, and finally his head.  When they were ready, Mandi spoke the words to her spell, and whisked them forward a dozen feet inside the temple.

They found themselves in a cavernous hall, which stretched away to either side.  Four stone-railed balconies, staggered at different heights, flanked a pair of large, bronze double doors which stood in the center of the north wall.  Serpentine-carved columns stretched up to the ceiling sixty feet overhead.  The floor of the chamber was cluttered with bits of rubble and cobweb-shrouded skeletons pushed to the edges and corners.  No sooner had the trio appeared, than a deafening roar sounded from one of the lower balconies.  Standing there was a massive, white-furred ape with four large arms.  Gripped in one of its huge paws was a sizeable chunk of broken marble.  The beast hefted it threateningly as it roared again.
“Four-armed monkeys,” Sepoto sighed, remembering Tower Cleaver’s warning.  Just then, Mandi and Marius popped into view behind the warriors, and Sepoto quickly upended the bag he held, dumping Daelric unceremoniously onto the floor.
“Bad monkey!”  Tower Cleaver suddenly shouted, hefting his axe and charging across the rubble-strewn floor.
“Not again,” Sepoto said, shaking his head.  

With Tower Cleaver’s height, his head was just level with the top of the balcony upon with the girallon stood, which gave his long arms more than enough space to swing his axe.  As he did, the head of the weapon burst into flames, sawing into the girallon’s leg.  The animal howled in pain, and then reached down with one massive paw and raked its talons across the minotaur’s face.  At that moment, a second ape appeared on the balcony behind and ten-feet above Tower Cleaver.  

“For the love of all that is holy, will somebody help him before he gets himself killed?”  Mandi asked in exasperation.  “Not that that would necessarily be a bad thing.”
Sepoto and Samson each quaffed elixirs and rose into the air.  At the same time, Marius hurled a sparking orb of flames at the lower girallon.  The creature backed up, batting at its smoldering fur.  As it lowered its guard, Tower Cleaver buried his axe blade in its forehead, and wrenched it off the balcony.  By that time, Samson had reached the second ape and loosed his acrid breath upon it.  The girallon roared, batting at the goblin and sending him tumbling head-over-heels.  Just then, three searing beams of fire lanced from Mandi’s hand, striking the ape in the head, chest and groin.  Silently, it tumbled off its perch as well.

“So this is as far as you came?”  Mandi asked Tower Cleaver, standing with her hands on her hips and glaring up at him.  
“Climbed balcony once,” he answered, nodding to the lower one.  “More white apes there, and snake-head tigers.”
“I see,” Mandi said.  “And what about those doors?  Did you ever look in there?”
“No,” Cleaver said, shaking his head.  “Afraid.”
“Well then, I guess since we already know what’s above, I suggest we continue our explorations elsewhere,” the elf wizard announced.  “Does anyone have a problem with not wasting our resources on semi-sentient apes, and instead go on about finding what we were sent here to find?”
None of the others disagreed, and so Sepoto and Cleaver each grabbed one of the massive door handles and heaved.

Beyond the doors they found a long hall which rose in a succession of wide flights of stairs.  The ceiling, twenty feet above, rose smoothly along with the floor.  A blue radiance from thousands of short gray candles that burned with eerie blue flames lit the hall.  The candles were set all across the floors and steps of the hall, which left only a narrow, cleared path down the center.  A pair of terra-cotta statues of warriors dressed in strange armor flanked a set of doors at the far end of the hall.

Cleaver, Sepoto and Samson took the lead again, moving warily up the corridor.  When they reached the bottom of the first set of stairs, however, there was an audible click as Cleaver set his hoof upon the first riser.
“Oops,” the minotaur said.  
Instantly, the ceiling above the trio creased in the middle and swung down on great hinges in twenty-foot long sections from either side, smashing together like clapping hands in the center of the hall.  Samson saw the trap coming and crouched low, the ceiling panels passing inches above his head.   Sepoto and Cleaver were not so lucky.  The panels rose up after they struck, locking themselves back into place.  Blood flowed freely from the noses of both warriors, and several ugly, purple bruises sprouted like daisies all over their bodies.  They staggered back, stricken, towards their companions.  Quickly, Daelric set to work stanching the blood flow and mending cracked ribs.
“Hmm,” Mandi observed.  “Perhaps the devil-you-know is the wiser choice after all.

Abandoning the trapped hall for the time, the group returned to the entrance hall, where Cleaver boosted the others up onto the lower balcony before climbing up himself.  They made their way up a short flight of stairs to a landing.  To their right they saw the second, higher balcony looking out over the entrance.  To their left, a hall wound around a corner.  Tower Cleaver proceeded forward cautiously, knowing what they would find.  He entered a bare chamber, with a ceiling sixty-feet overhead.  Mounds of debris, animal fur, droppings and bones were obvious indications that several creatures normally inhabited the area.  The air was foul, and standing around the chamber were three more girallons, teeth bared and claws flexing.

The nearest ape charged towards the minotaur, hitting him head-on and ripping at him with its talons.  Marius quickly stepped around the corner, safely behind Cleaver and tossed a pea-sized ball of fire into the chamber.  When it detonated, the flames engulfed all three of the girallons, leaving the minotaur untouched.  Burned horribly, the apes nonetheless kept coming, determined to defend their territory.  Samson entered next, flying between Cleaver’s legs and breathing on the two rear girallons, causing them to hesitate briefly in their charge as they clawed at their burning flesh.  That moment was all Sepoto needed.  He shoved his way past Cleaver, and calling upon Savras’ power, plunged his chain into the next ape in line, where it exploded in blinding white light.  The four-armed ape collapsed like a small oak.  At that same moment, Tower Cleaver shoved his assailant back, then cleaved it from head to crotch with his axe.

A low hissing, and feline-like growling suddenly filled the room.  From an archway at the opposite side, two creatures slunk into the chamber.  They vaguely resembled great leopards with yellowish fur and teal spots, yet even casual inspection revealed their magical nature.  A swarm of six hissing snakes writhed from the shoulders of each, and their long, sleek tails ended in scaly protrusions like that of rattlesnakes.  One of the creatures padded quickly across the room, opening its mouth wide as it came.  From its throat came a cloud of greenish-yellow smoke.  As it washed over the Legionnaires in the room, each of them felt extremely drowsy.  Tower Cleaver yawned hugely, then sagged to the floor, asleep.  Instantly, the remaining girallon was upon him, ripping his throat out with its teeth and claws.
“No!” Marius shouted, immolating the ape with a column of white fire.  Samson flew towards the first feline, hammering at it with his morningstar.  The beast reared up on its back feet to strike, but as it did so, a wave of sound crushed its chest as Mandi unleashed her magic.  It was flung into the far wall where it slid to the floor, twitching.  The second beast, however, pounced on the dragon shaman so quickly that he had no time to move.  In rapid succession, four of its snake heads sank their fangs into the goblin, and Samson felt instantly weak, barely able to hold his weapon up.  

Daelric, cloaked in invisibility from the ring that he wore, slipped quietly into the room, making his way over to the bloodied form of the minotaur.  There was no question that Cleaver was dead, but the priest knew that his soul had not yet departed.  Chanting a prayer quickly, he laid his hands upon the warrior, commanding his soul to remain.  A huge breath wracked the minotaur as life returned to his flesh, yet he still remained unconscious.  Daelric prayed again, calling upon his most powerful healing spells to mend the minotaur’s wounds.  Opening his eyes with a snort, Cleaver surged to his feet, looking for something to kill.  His eyes locked on the last feline, and with a roar, he leaped at it.  It opened its mouth to breathe its soporific breath, but Cleaver unhinged its lower jaw from its upper with a lateral swing of his axe.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Not dissapointed at all with the newbie. I like TC already!!! Was it the good ol' Reviviyfy-Heal tactic that saved him in the end?

Mandy has really established her leadership by now. I guess the Legion can accept her cold eficiency better than the evil of Anwar's kind.


----------



## Supar

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Not dissapointed at all with the newbie. I like TC already!!! Was it the good ol' Reviviyfy-Heal tactic that saved him in the end?
> 
> Mandy has really established her leadership by now. I guess the Legion can accept her cold eficiency better than the evil of Anwar's kind.




it was actually more the Revivify tatic daelric is the Favored soul variant out of Players hand book 2 so when he cast revivify it gives 15 temporary hitpoints it has actually been awesome having this variaint 3Xspell lvl in temporary hitpoints every time you cast a spell. Meaning if i cant reach you to heal you i can just cast a spell like elation or Shield of faith mass and give you temporary hitpoints.


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER

1)  The exploration of the temple continues with the slaughter of yet more girallons and kamadans.

2)  Marius takes another step towards the dark(er) side as he slaughters helpless children (well, girallon children anyway).

3)  Sepoto comes face to face with the granddaddy of all girallons...and is forced to retreat!

4)  The group ventures out into the tranquil inner garden of the temple...and is promptly introduced to some of the local fauna.


----------



## Hammerhead

Supar said:
			
		

> it was actually more the Revivify tatic daelric is the Favored soul variant out of Players hand book 2 so when he cast revivify it gives 15 temporary hitpoints it has actually been awesome having this variaint 3Xspell lvl in temporary hitpoints every time you cast a spell. Meaning if i cant reach you to heal you i can just cast a spell like elation or Shield of faith mass and give you temporary hitpoints.




Our Favored Soul healer loves to use Close Wounds, combined with the Augment Healing feat and the FS variant so as an immediate action he gives 6 temporary hit points and 1d4+9 healing. Sick at 5th level 

Honestly, what's the problem with slaughtering evil girallon children? Other than the opportunity cost of raising them to be your loyal and brutal servitors for your evil empire?


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Honestly, what's the problem with slaughtering evil girallon children? Other than the opportunity cost of raising them to be your loyal and brutal servitors for your evil empire?



True, true!


----------



## carborundum

Great stuff!
TC is hilarious! Reminds me of a foolhardy paladin I had, getting healed back from unconsciousness during a withdrawal and immediately charging! 

Daelric in the bag is just harsh, though!


----------



## Hammerhead

Shouldn't you be nicer to your healer?


----------



## carborundum

Supar said:
			
		

> daelric is the Favored soul variant out of Players hand book 2




Any chance we can get a peek at Daelrics character sheet? I need to make a backup character for Red Hand of Doom, and since we don't have any healers in the party I've been thinking of a Favoured Soul.


----------



## Supar

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Shouldn't you be nicer to your healer?




i try to remind them of this and they keep abusing me one of these days a certain invisible favored soul might not be where you remember him last 

and yes i will post daelrics char sheet some time


----------



## JollyDoc

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Honestly, what's the problem with slaughtering evil girallon children? Other than the opportunity cost of raising them to be your loyal and brutal servitors for your evil empire?





Girallons are not evil.  They're neutral.  Marius may as well have butchered a litter of kittens...kittens with four arms...and very sharp teeth.


----------



## carborundum

Supar said:
			
		

> one of these days a certain invisible favored soul might not be where you remember him last




How do you play it with the miniatures when he's invisible? I was wondering how different folks play it...


----------



## Joachim

carborundum said:
			
		

> How do you play it with the miniatures when he's invisible? I was wondering how different folks play it...




We pull the figure off and replace it with a clear die.  Everyone at the table can still see where he is, but is not allowed to use that information for metagaming unless they could know it (by a Listen check, see invisibility, etc.).


----------



## JollyDoc

BLESS THE BEASTS AND THE CHILDREN

The bare chamber from which the large felines had emerged reeked of wet fur and rotting meat.  An archway to the south opened onto a balcony overlooking a lush garden lit occasionally by the lightning of the storm outside.  The room’s only furnishing was a stone couch against the north wall.  The smell seemed to be coming from a large nest of rubble and plant matter astride it, in which the partially-eaten body of a large lizard-like creature was draped.  
“A deinonychus,” Mandi observed as she leaned over the carcass.  “They’re indigenous to the island, but usually not this high up in the mountains.  I’d say this one traveled with the temple from somewhere else.”
Cleaver had wandered out onto the balcony and stood peering out into the darkness.  The rain-soaked garden beyond looked like some exotic, tropical jungle.  Illuminated by periodic flashes of lightning, unfamiliar plant life grew in wild abundance, as if it had not been tended in years.  A twenty-foot wide overhang supported by great square columns sixty-feet tall surrounded the enclave.  Vines and other plant life covered these columns and hung like green curtains in some sections.  Gray stone pools and fountains protruded from the greenery sporadically, and in some places revealed glimpses of white…like polished bone.  The air was strangely warm and comfortable despite the torrential rain.
“I think we’ll stay indoors for now,” Sepoto said, coming up behind the minotaur and laying one hand on his shoulder, giving the big warrior an unintended start.  “Seems safer until daylight.”

They exited the chamber through a door on the far side, which led into a narrow hall and a descending stair.  Through a second door at the bottom, they found themselves in another chamber, the walls of which were painted with murals of fantastically peaked mountains covered in jungle growth, with precariously hanging palaces that could only exist in an imaginative mind.  The colors of the murals remained bright, as if painted only recently.  The rest of the room was spotlessly clean, with several stone benches spaced around it.  Though exquisite works of art, there were no obvious depictions of the obahs the companions had come in search of, so they pressed on.  Past the mural room, they came upon a large veranda.  Where the southern wall should have been was a wide opening looking out on the overgrown, rain-soaked garden.  Two red-tiled columns supported the archway, matching the hexagonal red tiles that comprised the floor.  A massive table composed of a single slab of gray slate supported by many skillfully carved oak legs dominated the center of the chamber.  On either side of the table ran a long, wooden bench.  Clay vessels on the tabletop were stacked with a variety of fruits and tubers.

No sooner had Sepoto opened the door than he saw the hulking shapes of four girallons rise from around the veranda, silhouetted by lightning flashes against the dark backdrop of the garden.  There were two of the feline creatures present as well, and they leaped nimbly onto the large table and began stalking down its length.  As the first one drew near the goliath, he stepped in to meet it, snapping his chain like a whip which surged with divine power as it struck the beast.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the girallons closing to his flank, but as it closed in, Tower Cleaver’s great axe blade fell from beyond the door, slicing deeply through its thick fur.  The creature lurched back, but Sepoto flicked his chain at it as it tried to retreat, opening its wound further.  While the goliath’s attention was turned, one of the snake-headed felines lunged.  Sepoto brought up his chain reflexively, catching the brunt of the animal’s attack, but then it opened its fanged jaws and exhaled the noxious, green gas of its breath.  As the vapors washed over both Sepoto and Cleaver, the two warriors felt an intense torpor overwhelm them.  To the dismay of their comrades still in the mural chamber, both of them slumped to the floor.

Mandi didn’t panic.  “Daelric!” she bellowed.  “Get your sorry hide up here and rouse the bulldozer!”  
Not waiting to see if she’d been obeyed, she stepped to the doorway and summoned a barrage of arcane bolts, sending four of them to strike the great cat.  It howled and tumbled to the floor, dead.  The fifth bolt, she aimed at Sepoto.  As the sizzling missile struck his exposed flesh, the goliath yelped in pain, but his eyes sprung open.  He was wide awake in an instant.  Behind her, Mandi heard a snort of rage as Cleaver surged to his feet, looking around for whoever had slapped him.  The invisible Daelric slipped quietly back into the shadows.

At that moment, a ball of fire engulfed the veranda.  Marius stood just around the corner from Mandi, his fingers still smoking.  When the flames cleared, one of the girallons was a charred husk, while the others sported wicked burns and singed fur.  Sepoto used the distraction to get to his feet, but as he did so another girallon struck, raking one large paw across his face.  The goliath wiped the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand and grinned.  
“My turn,” he said in a low, menacing voice before he drove the tip of his chain through the girallon’s neck.  Another surge of holy power blew the beast’s head completely off its shoulders.  

At that point, both Mandi and Marius found themselves shouldered roughly aside by the charging bulk of Cleaver.  The minotaur drove forward into the room, head down and axe raised.  The girallon he rushed towards, however, was ready.  It lowered its own shoulders and met the barbarian head-on, the force of their impact echoing across the veranda.  The great ape wrapped all four of its arms around Cleaver, rending and tearing at his flesh as it sank its teeth into his neck.  With all of his considerable strength, Cleaver thrust the girallon away from him, and as it prepared to pounce again, he buried his axe in its chest, wrenching it free as the beast collapsed.  

Suddenly, a door behind Mandi opened.  Surprised, the mage turned and found herself peering into a kitchen area.  Ovens and hearths of smooth stones comprised one wall, while between them were heavy wooden cabinets and shelves inset into the stone.  Numerous bits of debris and broken furniture littered the floor.  Another girallon stood directly on the opposite side of the door, while further back in the room was yet another.  Clustered behind the second one were what appeared to be a half-dozen or so miniature versions of the apes, each about the size of a baboon.  Young.  As Mandi looked on, the second adult opened another door adjoining the veranda.  As it did so, the remaining feline darted through, taking up a defensive posture in front of the mewling younglings.  The elf wizard turned back towards Marius and nodded meaningfully.  Her fellow Seeker understood implicitly, and did not hesitate as he began casting.  The occupants of the kitchen were simply another group of enemies to be dealt with.  Their age or maturity was not a factor in his calculations.  A second fireball erupted in the room, and as its flames died, so to did every one of the young girallons.  The two adults and the feline were burned, but still very much alive…and enraged.

Back on the veranda, Sepoto lashed out at the last girallon, but the beast abruptly broke off combat with him and leaped over the table, landing on Cleaver’s back.  As it latched on, it shredded the minotaur’s hide as if it were rice paper.  Roaring in blind rage, Cleaver threw the ape off, whirling as he did so and slashing it in two before it hit the ground.  Even as the final enemy fell, one of the adults from the kitchen, as well as the feline darted back through the adjoining door, rushing towards Sepoto.  Before they had gone three paces though, another fireball rent the air, incinerating them both.  Sepoto stepped over their corpses and into the kitchen.  The last girallon stood crouched over its dead brood, teeth bared and claws raised.  It died in that pose as the crusader’s chain cleaved its skull.
________________________________________________________________

“I grow weary of this,” Sepoto said as he surveyed the carnage around them.  “We came here seeking religious icons, yet all we’ve discovered thus far are mutated apes and leopards.  Why kind of monks were these people anyway?  And where are all the barbarians we were supposed to be wary of?  I think the records keeper may have been mistaken.”
“It’s possible,” Mandi said, “but we’ve only scratched the surface of this place.  It looked very spacious from the outside.  Perhaps the beasts we’ve encountered were pets or guardians of the monks, now reverted to their feral state.  As for the Tuigan, I do not believe they are here presently.  The ones we met were leaving.  They may have been the last to do so.  The legend said that when the storms raged they would be allowed to leave their prison for a brief time. If you spent your entire life pillaging and were then denied the ability to do so, wouldn’t you seize the first opportunity when it came along?”
“So you’re saying they are out marauding, and may return at any point?”  Sepoto asked.
“Exactly,” the mage replied.  “Which also means that the storm may end at any time, and the temple may vanish again into oblivion.  Therefore I suggest we continue our explorations and delay as little as possible.”

Mandi’s logic could not be argued, though the crusader still bridled at the fact that his talents were being wasted on glorified livestock.  Not that he didn’t enjoy a good fight, and he had been growing board back in Farshore, but he had been looking forward to testing his mettle against the battle-hardened Tuigan about which so many stories had been told.  The company pressed on.  One door opened from the far end of the kitchens.  Sepoto grasped the handle and sighed, “Please, Savras.  No more monkeys.”
The door opened into a long, dusty hall, which gave onto several empty cell-like rooms, each bare of furnishings and having no door.  What was present, however, and immediately obvious was another trio of girallons, spaced at opposite sides of the L-shaped hall, and immediately beyond the doorway in which Sepoto stood.
“Why have you forsaken me?”  the goliath said, rolling his eyes towards the heavens.  With a resolute shrug, he stepped forward, and as the nearest ape rushed towards him, he cracked his chain side-arm, sending its point unerringly into the left ear of the girallon.  The beast reeled, clutching its bleeding auricle.  As it struggled to regain its equilibrium, twin rays of fire scorched from Mandi’s had, and punched matching holes through its chest.  

Tower Cleaver leaped into the room behind Sepoto and immediately began charging down the right branch of the hall towards the girallon waiting there.
“Oh yes, please do split up the party,” Mandi yelled after him acidly, “That is always a sound strategy!”
Cleaver paid her no heed, instead rushing headlong into the girallon which had chosen to meet him halfway.  The monster swiped at his forearm with one paw.  Simultaneously, the girallon down the opposite hall bound to the corner on all sixes, sweeping past Sepoto who still managed to tag it a glancing blow as it passed.  
‘Not so stupid as they look,’ the goliath thought to himself as he saw the creature’s tactic.  It now had Cleaver hemmed in with its companion.  The minotaur was flanked and could not advance nor retreat.  Still, the crusader was no slouch at tactics himself, and he pursued the animal down the hall, flailing away at it as he drew closer.  It never reached Cleaver, instead sprawling in a growing pool of its own blood.  As the remaining girallon prepared to sink all four of its talons and its teeth into the minotaur, Mandi loosed a spell.  The ape froze in mid-attack, paralyzed.
“Now,” Mandi said in a bored tone, “have fun.”
Tower Cleaver actually looked disappointed at the lack of challenge, but nevertheless he shrugged and proceeded to decapitate his helpless foe.
______________________________________________________________

Jiba lifted his spectacles as he wiped a tear from his eye with one large, taloned finger.  His mates were dead, and so, he assumed, were the rest of his tribe, including the children.  He had always known this time would come.  When the barbarians first invaded the temple, so long ago that he couldn’t remember how much time had passed anymore, and killed his masters, he knew that his people would follow eventually.  There had been an uneasy truce since that time, however.  The barbarians were fierce, but not foolhardy.  They knew that, in numbers, his kin were formidable, and with the kamadans on their side, they were indeed a force to be reckoned with.  But the years had taken their toll.  Generations of inbreeding had robbed his children of the enlightenment the Shensites had bestowed upon them.  Eventually, they had reverted to the savage ways of their ancestors.  Now he alone still recalled the glory that had been, but even his mind was going, and he knew that he had already forgotten many things.  The barbarians had only been biding their time, he understood now.  Waiting for the right moment, when his people were no longer capable of functioning as a united force.  Even though the kamadans still aided them, the felines were more concerned with their own personal grudges against their cousins.  They underestimated the threat the humans posed.  Their mistake, and now his children had paid the price, and it would seem that he must also.  Yet he was determined to honor the memory of his kin and his former masters.  The barbarians would pay dearly before he journeyed to the next level of existence.  As the sounds of battle died in the outer halls, he rose to his feet, marking the text he had been reading with one finger.  He turned and bowed low before Gobal the Dancer, asking the obah for one last blessing, and then he moved towards the door.
______________________________________________________________

Tower Cleaver kicked at the dead girallon on the floor before him and snorted in satisfaction.  Why he had ever been afraid of these creatures, he could not recall.  With his new tribe-mates, he was unstoppable.  Every beast in the accursed temple would suffer for having tormented him.  Sepoto by his side, he started down the darkened hall, towards a door on the north wall.  Suddenly, the large, stone door exploded outward, taking a sizeable section of the wall with it.  Dust drifted from the hole, but there was no movement or sound.  Sepoto held up one hand, signaling the minotaur and the others to wait while he continued cautiously forward.  When he reached the doorway, he put his back to the wall, and peered slowly around the corner.  Inside was a vast chamber, which rose to a terraced bronze dome ninety feet above.  The stormy sky was visible through a large hole at the dome’s apex.  A soft patter of rain soaked the floor beneath the skylight.  Against the east wall of the room rested a massive green, copper statue.  It stood some forty feet in height and depicted an immensely fat man seated cross-legged with sixteen arms raised and holding various objects, from weapons to ornaments to strange musical instruments.  Its face bore a leering grin, and a single horn protruded from its forehead.  All this Sepoto caught at a glance, for what truly drew his attention was the huge creature crouched in the corner to his right.  It appeared to be a monstrously large girallon, standing some twenty feet tall, but its fur was silver-black, and it sported six arms instead of four.  What struck the crusader the most about it, however, was the incongruous pair of spectacles perched on its nose, and the large tome it held in one hand.

“Savras save us!” the crusader whispered, but he never hesitated.  Stepping around the corner, he struck out with his chain.  The spiked links caught the great behemoth full on across its lower abdomen, causing it to double over with an audible grunt, followed by a dry retching as it fought to regain its breath.  Sepoto smiled.  “The bigger they are…” he started, but he never finished the adage as the massive girallon voiced an ear shattering roar and lunged towards him.  The goliath raised his shield, but its protection was minimal.  The beast’s great arms easily reached over and around the tower shield, and Sepoto felt his flesh being torn from him in strips.  The monster’s talons bit deeply into his hide, and it was only his great strength that kept him from being disemboweled.  Staggered, he stumbled back thru the door, feeling the beast’s hot breath upon him as it prepared to strike again.  At that moment, however, he heard Daelric’s voice chanting behind him and felt the priest’s hands touch him, lending him their healing power.  It wasn’t enough.  His blood still flowed in rivers and he knew if the creature reached him again, he was dead.  Desperately he struck out as he simultaneously retreated.  His weapon bit deep, channeling Savras’ divine power through its links.  The girallon howled and hesitated, just long enough for Sepoto to make his escape.  Tower Cleaver stepped into the breach.  He had no idea what manner of thing could inflict so much damage on the goliath, a man he was beginning to think invincible.  If it could do that to the crusader, it could surely crush him with ease.  Still, he had a new clan now and he was honor-bound to defend them with his life.  He would atone for his previous cowardice, with his own blood if necessary.  He allowed the battle-lust to flow through him and consume him, blotting out everything else except for the all-encompassing rage.  Howling, he hefted his axe and leaped into the room.  The girallon reared high above him, raising all six of its arms to crush him, but the minotaur was a fraction of a second faster, and his blade bit and bit deep.  Jiba, the last of his kind, looked down in strange fascination as his life’s blood fell to the floor.  “Master…,” he whispered, before oblivion took him.
___________________________________________________________

“‘Gobal the Dancer, Obah of Prosperity and Success’,” Mandi translated from the inscription on the base of the giant statue as Marius worked on a sketch of the same.  “It would seem we’ve found the first of the 3000.  Only 2,999 to go.”
Samson paced around the body of the giant girallon, a troubled expression on his face.  “What do all of you make of this?” he asked at length.  “Why would an animal wear spectacles and be reading books?”  A stack of similar tomes sat against one wall.  According to Mandi, they all seemed to involve various theories on mysticism and mediation on the natural order of things.  “And he spoke,” Samson continued.  “We don’t know what he said, but it was obviously a word.”
Mandi sighed as she rose from her inspection of the pedestal.  “You’re over-thinking this,” she replied.  “Many occult sects breed their own guardians.  So this one happened to be a bit smarter than most.  What of it?  It still seemed quite intent on tearing Sepoto limb-from-limb.  It’s not as if we could’ve reasoned with it.”
“Yes, but we had just killed over a dozen of its kin,” Samson retorted.  “How would you feel in the same situation?”
“Relieved,” Mandi said in a low whisper only she could hear, and then aloud, “Yes, yes and a mother bear will fight to defend its cubs, and its mate to defend her, but they are still just animals.  It would have been perfectly lovely if we could have captured them all and returned them to the wild, but they’d gone feral and they did not seem inclined to listen to rational explanations.  I worry about you sometimes, Samson.  I thought you used to do mercenary work.  I’ve never heard of a mercenary with a conscience.”
“I just don’t see the sense in needless slaughter, that’s all I’m saying,” the dragon shaman said moodily.
Mandi threw up her hands in exasperation.  “Where do you think we are?  This isn’t Tashluta!  We are in the middle of an uncharted wilderness full of predators who wouldn’t think twice about making you their next meal, not to mention the pirates and demons we’ve encountered.  There is no room for social niceties out here, nor for attacks of morality.  We are being paid to be here and do a job.  Whatever creatures we find here have been trapped for untold centuries.  If they are in any way hostile, then we are doing them a mercy by setting their souls free once and for all.”
Samson let the matter drop and the others busied themselves with gathering and cataloging the books and tomes.  They had already determined that there was nowhere to proceed from the area.  They were going to have to go back the way they came, and that meant entering the garden if they were to proceed further.
______________________________________________________________

Standing on the veranda once more, they looked out over the darkened garden.  They could not see its far borders due to the heavy growth, rain and darkness, so they decided to be methodical and move along the walls.  Choosing randomly, they started towards their right, west.  As they hacked their way through the underbrush, Sepoto leading, they glimpsed a large pool off to their left.  Just ahead was the balcony Tower Cleaver had stood on, outside the room where they’d first encountered the feline creatures.  Abruptly, the goliath held up one hand, calling for a halt.
“What is it?” Mandi asked in irritation.
“Nothing,” Sepoto answered in a low voice.  “That’s just it.  Do you hear any night birds or insects?  Even the monkeys have stopped their chattering.  There’s something out here besides us.”
As if on cue, a large reptilian head suddenly thrust its way through the trees not ten feet in front of the goliath.  It was attached to a sinuous body which stood erect on its hind feet, each of which sported a wicked-looking spur on the ankle.  Its foreclaws were equally sharp, and its teeth identified it as a pure carnivore.  It looked exactly like the carcass they had seen in the room where the felines had nested.  A deinonychus…a raptor, Mandi had called it.  

“You’re a brave one, I’ll give you that,” Sepoto said, unlimbering his chain.  “One against six.  I don’t like your odds.”
“Sepoto!”  Mandi called from behind in the dark.  “Raptors never hunt alone!”
At that moment, the raptor sprang, darting to Sepoto’s right and snapping its jaws shut on the arm of Marius, who stood behind the goliath.  Without warning, the entire jungle around them came alive as seven more raptors darted into view, completely surrounding the company.  Then the night erupted into violence.  The raptors were everywhere, darting into the midst of them to attack and then springing back.  Cleaver suffered bites from both sides before he managed to bring one of the hunters down with his axe.  Then the darkness blossomed into light as Marius loosed a ball of fire upon their foes, causing them to recoil, shrieking before quickly gathering themselves for another assault.  It was chaos.  Tower Cleaver swung his axe in wide circles, heedless of who was around him.  Raptors fell beneath his blows, but allies found themselves having to dodge quickly away as well.  Sepoto’s chain was more precise, striking with swift, deadly accuracy.  The magic of Mandi and Marius was not so discerning, but the skill of the mages allowed them to sculpt their spells around their friends, while at the same time dealing withering damage to their attackers.  It was over in less than two minutes.  All the raptors lay dead, but several of the Legionnaires were bloodied and battered.  Sepoto took a moment to catch his breath, but then quickly his head came up, turning this way and that.
“I still don’t hear any of the normal night sounds,” he said.
In answer, a chorus of hisses sounded from all around them, and multiple pairs of evil yellow eyes glared at them from the foliage…


----------



## Quartz

Hehehe! I hope Tower Cleaver's going to be a permanent addition. Equally, I hope that he's rather more intelligent than his word indicate - showing a lack of education, rather than a lack of intelligence.


----------



## Joachim

Tower Cleaver's Intelligence = 6

Tower Cleaver's Strength (when not raging) = 32

Brawn over brains...'nuff said.

BTW, JD, I liked the interlude between Mandi and Samson (ad libbed by Joe as Samson was not even present last week)..very much fits her personality.


----------



## Quartz

Joachim said:
			
		

> Tower Cleaver's Intelligence = 6



Nothing a permanent Fox's Cunning can't sort out.


----------



## Zaruthustran

Who is playing Tower Cleaver? Is he an NPC? 

Also: what's the holy power that blows heads off of those unfortunate enough to be hit by Seputo? Is that the Crusader's surge? 

Last: how does he wield the spiked chain and a tower shield at the same time?

Lots o' questions today.


----------



## JollyDoc

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Who is playing Tower Cleaver? Is he an NPC?
> 
> Also: what's the holy power that blows heads off of those unfortunate enough to be hit by Seputo? Is that the Crusader's surge?
> 
> Last: how does he wield the spiked chain and a tower shield at the same time?
> 
> Lots o' questions today.




1)  Tower Cleaver is being played by a new player to our group, David.  He used to play in another group with Bryant (Marius).  That group has since disbanded, and we've reaped the rewards by inheriting two very solid players.  

2)  That is indeed the crusader's Divine Surge, which if I'm not mistaken, does an additional 8d6 points of damage.  I hate crusaders...

3)  Prepare to enter the Cheese Zone:  animated tower shield... :\ 


And now for our Monday Evening Teaser:

1)  More raptor goodness in the garden of Good and Evil leaves Sepoto breathless but thoroughly pumped up.

2)  Daelric exhibits a freakish streak of bravery...and promptly gets punk'd by an assassin vine the size of a small cottage!

3)  The Small Soldiers (Marius, Samson and Mandi in mephit form) split off from the rest of the group to investigate a tiny tunnel.  The four-armed inhabitants are not amused.

4)  The Legion shows their lack of restaurant etiquette by simply killing the cook rather than sending their meal back.

5)  The cousins of the kamadans finally rear their ugly heads, including their big brother.

6)  Mandi follows the Seeker Code to the letter by looting every tomb she finds...including those of Lawful Good Sohei.


----------



## Joachim

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 3)  Prepare to enter the Cheese Zone:  animated tower shield... :\




Uhh...if I am not mistaken, it was actually given as treasure in the module...Paizo's fault there.

And the maneuver Divine Surge (not limited to crusaders, but more difficult to obtain) is actually 8d8, which is not that severe for an 11th level PC.  However, Tower Cleaver's Damage >> Totally Egregious.


----------



## JollyDoc

Joachim said:
			
		

> However, Tower Cleaver's Damage >> Totally Egregious.





I hate minotaur barbarians too...


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Animated Tower Shield and Spiked Chain does sound a bit much. But then again, it's you guys. 




> Tower Cleaver's Intelligence = 6





> Nothing a permanent Fox's Cunning can't sort out.




Anyone else think of the episode where Belkar receives an Owl's Wisdom?


----------



## Quartz

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Anyone else think of the episode where Belkar receives an Owl's Wisdom?




Great minds...


----------



## Aracase

Hi All, 

I'm the person that plays Tower Cleaver and I have to say that I appreciate the invite to Joe's game and enjoy the story hour just about as much as the game itself.


			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Joachim said:
> 
> 
> 
> 
> However, Tower Cleaver's Damage >> Totally Egregious.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> I hate minotaur barbarians too...
Click to expand...


I suddenly feel like I need to defend my character....


----------



## JollyDoc

Aracase said:
			
		

> Hi All,
> 
> I'm the person that plays Tower Cleaver and I have to say that I appreciate the invite to Joe's game and enjoy the story hour just about as much as the game itself.
> 
> I suddenly feel like I need to defend my character....





Ah, welcome to the show David!  You'll like it here.  The beds are soft, the food is edible, and the meds are always dispensed on time!


----------



## Joachim

Aracase said:
			
		

> Hi All,
> 
> I'm the person that plays Tower Cleaver and I have to say that I appreciate the invite to Joe's game and enjoy the story hour just about as much as the game itself.
> 
> I suddenly feel like I need to defend my character....




Apparently, David, you don't yet recognize what constitutes 'praise' coming from our group.

BTW, I am at the beach and typing this on the wife's BlackJack...this thing is the SWEETNESS!


----------



## JollyDoc

Author's Note:  Due to Joachim's little beach soire', Supar's family cruise, and Bryant's (aka Marius) planned whatever, our group will not be gaming this week.  Therefore, I'll be taking a little extra time in getting this week's post up.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> and the meds are always dispensed on time!





			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Author's Note:  Due to Joachim's little beach soire', Supar's family cruise, and Bryant's (aka Marius) planned whatever, our group will not be gaming this week.  Therefore, I'll be taking a little extra time in getting this week's post up.



Damnm, I need my meds... 

Have a nice "creative break", guys. Those who've read the upcoming modules know you're gonna need it.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Therefore, I'll be taking a little extra time in getting this week's post up.



Can you define little?


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Can you define little?





Umm...hopefully by Thursday at the very latest.  Hang in there.  Try focused mediation or feng shui.


----------



## JollyDoc

TOMB RAIDERS

The second pack of raptors fared no better than their kin.  They had lain in wait throughout the first melee, hoping for the opportunity to make easy prey of the weakened survivors, whether it was their own kind or not.  Unfortunately for the sly, but dumb animals, the Legion was not their typical prey.  Once again, the combined might of Sepoto and Tower Cleaver, coupled with the acidic sprays of Samson’s breath and the withering magics of Mandi and Marius, made quick work of the dinosaurs.  When the last one fell, Daelric, waiting in the wings as usual, stepped in to tend the relatively minor wounds his allies had suffered.

The companions continued their circuit of the overgrown garden, hugging the wall to their right.  Daelric, still unseen, had cast a divination allowing him to perceive magical emanations, hoping to find some sign of the obahs they’d been sent to document.  Thus it was that he saw the telltale shimmer of magic coming from the long, shallow pool ahead and to their left.  A wide mangrove tree grew in the midst of the stone-rimmed pool, and it was from within its tangled roots that the priest detected the aura.  
“I’ve got something,” he said, coming to a halt.
“Where?”  Mandi asked, turning her head towards the disembodied voice.
“That tree,” the priest responded.  “It’s hidden in the roots.  One of you should go in there and check it out.”
Sepoto laughed aloud at this suggestion.  “My, my!  Aren’t we the born leader?  I tell you what:  since you’re the one that can see what you’re looking for, and since you in turn cannot be seen, I think that you would be perfect for the job of investigating.”
There was silence for a moment.  Daelric did not care for the suggestion at all.  He knew his role and his strengths, and neither lay in the area of point man.  Still, Sepoto, despite his sarcasm, was correct, and it did make sense, and Shaundekal knew that the priest had taken his share of ribbing from the others about his lack of lethal contribution when diplomacy dissolved into violence.  Never mind that his magic provided them all with powerful defensive wards, and his curative spells had saved more than one of them on more than one occasion.  
“Fine,” he said at length, determined to show them all that he was not afraid to get his hands dirty.

Carefully, Daelric waded out towards the center of the pool, noting with some alarm that, though invisible, his body still displaced water and it would not be very difficult for an enemy to see his location.  When he neared the mangrove’s roots, he peered within, and saw the tell-tale glint of gold.  As he began reaching inside, however, he heard a rustling in the branches above him.  When he looked up he saw a vine, as thick as a man’s wrist curling down towards him.  Coiling like a whip, it snapped at him, striking him despite his invisibility.  The air was driven from his lungs, and before he could catch his breath, the vine began twining itself around his body, attempting to squeeze the life out of him.  Fortunately, Shaundekal’s blessing was upon him.  The Traveler did not abide any impediments to travel, and so had blessed His chosen with the freedom to move unimpeded through any such obstruction.  Daelric slipped free of the vine easily, as if he were covered in grease.  His friends, with the exception of Sepoto, whom Daelric had imbued with the same magic earlier in the day, were not so fortunate.  The plants and trees all around the pool suddenly animated into violent motion, clutching and grasping at the Legionnaires.  Marius, Tower Cleaver and Samson all found themselves entwined in limbs and branches, unable to move.  Mandi, having earlier assumed the form of an air mephit, hovered in the air above the foliage.  Her encyclopedic knowledge allowed her to realize immediately what was happening.  The flora was under the control of the true enemy…the vine that had struck Daelric initially.  It was a semi-sentient plant, carnivorous in nature, which sought to lure its prey within striking distance, holding it in place before strangling the life from it.  If the vine were destroyed, its control over the vegetation would end.
“Kill the vine!” she called to her companions and then began casting.  A thin, green beam of energy lanced from her finger.  Where it struck the vine, a large section simply withered, while a sizeable piece of the mangrove itself vanished, disintegrated into dust.  

Daelric scrambled towards the edge of the pool, but as he moved, the vine struck him again, the force of the blow hurling him to the grass at the water’s edge.  As it so happened, he landed right next to the entangled dragon shaman.  Daelric scrambled to his feet, determined to put some distance between himself and the murderous plant, but as he passed Samson, he touched the goblin’s shoulder, murmuring a short prayer.  Abruptly, Samson found himself able to wriggle free from his bonds.  He leaped into the pool, spraying acid from his open mouth as he went.  The vine hissed and spit where the acid struck, but still it swung about furiously, looking for its next target, which just happened to be the dragon shaman.  He was hit with the force of a battering ram, and thrown back towards the lip of the pool.  By that time, Sepoto had managed to wade through the clinging plants and into the pool.  As the killer vine struck Samson, the goliath replied in kind.  His chain coiled around the plant, and the divine power of Savras surged from the crusader through his weapon, causing the vine to shrivel into a blackened husk.  

“Don’t ever ask me to do that again!”  Daelric shouted as he made his way back to his companions.  “I could have been killed!”
“Hmm.  It seems that I face that same dilemma every time I go into battle,” Sepoto retorted.  
“Yes, but if you die, I can retrieve your soul,” Daelric replied, his voice shrill.  “Who will do the same for me?”
“Don’t worry yourself overly,” Sepoto laughed, “Your personal safety seems to be a prime concern of yours.  With all of your magical wards, you’ll come through with hardly a scratch…except for now.”  He smiled, for though he couldn’t see the priest, he knew the young man surely bore the tell-tale signs of the blows he’d suffered.

The magical auras from within the mangrove’s roots turned out to be from a beautiful suit of golden armor, worn by the skeletal remains of some unfortunate soul who’d traveled this path before them.  Of more interest, however, was the pool itself.  The raised stone rim around it was carved with several images, which Mandi determined were three more obahs:  Mumar, the Obah of Soil, Ciomar, the Obah of Mountain Springs, and Zinrial, the Obah of Fertility.  She made her notes while Marius quickly sketched the images, and then the group continued on their way.
________________________________________________________________

Beyond the mangrove pond they came upon an area where an immense tree root had grown through the lip of another pool, crumbling the stone and creating a delta of streams as it overflowed.  These streams formed a maze of rivulets before emptying into a wide, dark pool against the garden’s walls.  Barely visible in the gloom beneath the plant-shrouded overhang were two doors, partially submerged in the still water.  Mandi thought it better to bypass the doors at the time, in favor of mapping the whole of the garden, and so Tower Cleaver continued to hack through the dense vegetation.  Eventually they came to the far side of the enclosure, where they found a number of empty, iron cages.  The doors to all of them were missing, or hung askew by rusting hinges.   Logs lay broken and rotting upon the floors of some, while others were overgrown with vines and plants from the gardens.
“I imagine this is where the raptors, and possibly the girallons were kept,” Mandi offered, “before whatever happened happened, that is.”  
Tower Cleaver had been poking  around in one of the cages, when suddenly his large ears pricked up.
“What this?” he asked, staring at a spot high on one wall, which was about eye level for him.
“Don’t tell me,” Mandi said, fluttering up beside him, “you’ve found a peanut.”  When she reached the spot on the wall, however, she saw that it was a hole, about two-feet in diameter.  Peering down it, she could see that it led onto a small tunnel, which twisted and curved beyond her range of vision.  In her current form, she could enter the hole without a problem…and, she reasoned, so could Samson and Marius…

Several minutes later, the diminutive trio was marching single file down the cramped tunnel, with Samson in the lead.  It was obvious that the passage was not natural, but had instead been burrowed by something.  After several yards, it reached a four-way intersection.  To the left, a cramped chamber opened up to a height of nearly twenty-five feet.  The walls were covered with crude paintings of lizards and strange animals and figures with too many arms.  A thick, rancid layer of droppings and bones covered the floor.  Four, strange creatures crouched in the shadows of the intersection.  They were small, grey-skinned, hairless humanoids, sporting two pairs of long, rubbery looking arms with oddly elongated fingers.  Their yellow eyes glinted ferally in the darkness.  While Samson was still some ten feet away from the nearest creature, one of its arms suddenly shot towards him, fastening around his wind pipe.  Just as it began to choke him, however, the lingering effects of Daelric’s magic allowed him to slip free.  Almost reflexively, as he gasped in a deep breath, he released it in a cloud of acid which rolled over two of the creatures, clinging to them like a second skin.  From behind him, he heard Mandi’s voice speaking the words to summon her magic.  In an eye-blink, another of the little beings suddenly shimmered, only to be replaced by the form of a toad a moment later.  Hissing and shrieking, the three remaining chokers leaped at Samson, their arms flailing and beating at him, hammering him again and again.  Abruptly, the pair that still bore his clinging breath suddenly screamed, their skin blistering and boiling, and they collapsed in gelatinous, burned heaps.  As the last one stared at its dead companions, Samson lunged forward, his morningstar shattering the creature’s jaw as it struck, sending fanged teeth flying.  As it reeled, stunned, the dragon shaman struck again, crushing its skull.  

“What is it with this place and multi-limbed aberrations?”  Mandi asked as they inspected the crude lair of the little creatures, and turned up nothing of any real value.  “It’s almost as if they’ve been purposefully warped, or bred this way.  Just what sort of experiments where these monks carrying out, I wonder?”
The trio rejoined their companions, and told them of what they’d found.  There was nowhere else to go in the garden, at that point, which left only the two doors they had passed earlier.
____________________________________________________________

The first door they tried was stuck, but that proved only a minor inconvenience for Tower Cleaver.  Unfortunately, it led only to a partially flooded, but otherwise empty room.  The second door was slightly more problematic.  As the minotaur’s axe smashed into the wood, it struck metal beneath.  It seemed someone, or something had affixed an iron plate to the inside of the portal.  Although a bit more effort was required, the big barbarian still managed to batter through the barrier in less than a minute.  On the opposite side, they found themselves in a long chamber, with a high, vaulted ceiling supported by rows of intricately carved columns which gave the place a feeling of ancient grandeur.  It had obviously seen its better days, however, as the floor was partially flooded from the garden pool.  Though impressive, the room was unoccupied, and bore no likenesses of the obahs.  The only way out was via a narrow stair on one side, which led up to a small door.  Single-file, they moved up the stairway with Sepoto leading.  The goliath didn’t even pause at the door, instead twisting the handle and pushing it open wide.  Immediately, the reek of unwashed bodies mingled with the stench of foul cooking washed over the company.  Great fireplaces lined one wall of the room beyond, one of which held a massive brass kettle over a banked fire.  Foodstuffs were stacked throughout, and a great chopping block was covered with bloody cuts of meat.  A massive bed, crudely cobbled together, stood against another wall next to a large bag.  Standing at the chopping block was a large creature that, on first glance, resembled an overly muscular ogre, but when Sepoto looked closer, he saw that a third arm sprouted from the center of its chest.

Brakalan had been a cook for the Shensites long before the barbarians came, having been made to see the error of his evil ways by the kindly monks, and trained in the culinary arts.  So docile had he become that when the Tuigan attacked, he had not raised an arm (or three) against them, and thus they had spared his life.  Unfortunately, in the long years since, spent under their influence, the athach’s foul temperament had reasserted itself, and the fact that he was forced to cook for the prisoners the barbarians returned with on their raids only served to worsen his mood.  Thus, when he saw that a group of prisoners were wandering loose, and had invaded his domain, he was not at all pleased.
“No prisoner’s allowed!” he bellowed, raising his three meat tenderizers threateningly.  Unfortunately, only Mandi understood the foreign language the giant spoke, and though she knew the brute was only issuing a warning, she had become disgusted and fed up with the mutated monstrosities they continued to encounter.
“It’s threatening us,” she said aloud to her comrades.  “It says it will kill us all and have us for its dinner.  I suggest we pacify it.”
Sepoto and Tower Cleaver needed no more motivation than that.  As one, they moved forward.  Brakalan stepped out to meet them, shouting and gesturing at them.  Sepoto wound up, murmuring a short prayer over his chain, causing the spikes that studded it to become barbed and cruelly hooked.  When he struck, the arterial spray filled the kitchen like a slaughter house.  Brakalan gurgled, all three of his hands going to his sliced carotid.  His eyes grew wider when he saw Tower Cleaver’s axe whistling towards him, but they went quickly blank when the blade buried itself between them.
“Very efficient,” Mandi said, nodding approvingly.  Samson stared at her back coolly.  He was quickly becoming disillusioned with the sorceress, and worse, he didn’t trust her at all.
___________________________________________________________

Beyond the kitchen, the group found themselves on a second veranda.  On the opposite side, an archway opened into what appeared to be an armory, the walls of which were lined with wooden racks.  Many of them were empty, but a number of weapons and items of armor and equipment still remained.  Trestle tables occupied the center of the room with benches along either side.  To their left, however, the veranda opened onto a narrow mountain valley that separated the main portion of the temple from a tall citadel higher up the mountain face.  The floor of the plaza climbed a series of terraces to a bronze door at the base of the building.  High overhead, a pair of narrow, soaring aqueducts ran from the citadel’s bronze domes to the highest dome on the lower temple.  A pair of alcoves flanked the citadel entrance.  The western one was empty, but the eastern one held a four-armed statue which frowned down upon the plaza.  A shrill piping filled the courtyard with an alien melody.  
“Something tells me that is where we must ultimately go,” Mandi said as the group gazed up the valley, “but I don’t think now is the time.  I have a bad feeling about that place and I would just as soon delay the inevitable a bit longer.  Let us continue through the lower temple for now.”

They pressed on, moving across the empty armory to a larger room which, though in shambles, had obviously been used recently by a great number of occupants.  It seemed that every scrap of wood in the temple had been rounded up and cobbled together into crude beds, tables and chairs.  Stained furs, carpets and various pieces of cloth served as mattresses or were otherwise strewn about the room.  Several bronze braziers made the room uncomfortably warm.  The debris of broken equipment, articles of clothing, spilled wine jugs, the remains of meals, and items of garbage were scattered everywhere.  The rancid stench of sweat and sour wine filled the room.  Whatever the room’s original purpose, it was obvious that it was now a barracks.  
“It seems as if our savage hosts are all away on other business,” Sepoto remarked.
“All the better for us,” Mandi answered.  “All the more reason why I don’t want to be here when the storm ends.  Let’s keep moving.”

Two doors on the far side of the barracks were locked and boarded shut, as if to keep whatever was on the other side out.  Once more Tower Cleaver made quick work of the barriers, revealing an antechamber leading onto a wide stair on the opposite side.  The stairs, in turn, led to another high-ceilinged chamber.  Rain poured through an opening at the top of the bronze dome seventy-five feet overhead.  Bas-reliefs depicting a verdant, mountainous jungle realm covered the walls and interior of the dome.  Fantastical images of hanging palaces and majestic, cloud-wrapped peaks mingled with images of multi-armed men and animals.  A dark form lay motionless in a puddle on the floor beneath the skylight above.

Cautiously, Sepoto and Tower Cleaver moved towards the still creature.  As they passed a shadowed alcove to their left, sudden movement caught Sepoto’s eye.  Two creatures stalked slowly out of the gloom, crouched low to the ground.  At first glance, they looked like emaciated, black panthers, but the pair of long, barbed tentacles which sprouted from their shoulders identified them as another version of the extra-limbed horrors they’d been battling since they entered the accursed temple.  As the felines prepared to spring, the two warriors each stepped to meet them.  The pounce never came as twin blows from chain and axe laid the monsters low.  When they approached the body beneath the skylight, they saw that it was another of the panthers, its neck obviously broken.  It seemed apparent that the beasts had either entered through the dome, or were attempting to exit that way when one of their number fell.  Quickly, the group passed through the chamber, careful to avoid passing directly beneath the hole above.

Another short flight of stairs led to a corridor which branched left and right.  Directly ahead was a spacious room, the doors of which were missing.  A cool, moist breeze flowed through the chamber, issuing from a great hole in the bronze dome that rose one-hundred feet overhead.  The occasional flash of lightning provided sparkling illumination as it was reflected through a series of mirrors set around the dome and redirected to shine on the room’s center.  The locus of the light was a twenty-foot tall, two-step ziggurat.  Spaced around the first tier were eight elaborate sarcophagi that glittered with gold.  At the ziggurat’s summit sat an even larger sarcophagus that gleamed in the intermittent beams of light.  Two more of the panther creatures lounged on the lower tier of the pyramid, while three others prowled the floor.  Perched atop the ziggurat was a huge specimen of the beast, its tentacles easily twenty feet in length.  No sooner had the Legionnaires reached the top of the stair in the exterior hall, than the great pack lord yowled and hissed, slinking down the pyramid towards them.  On cue, three of the other beasts moved to join their alpha, while the remaining two darted through archways in opposite walls of the chamber, obviously seeking to flank their prey.

When the pack lord was still several yards away, it struck out with one of its tentacles, raking it across Sepoto’s chest.  The goliath quickly rushed towards the creature, finding himself immediately hemmed in by the smaller felines.  This did not deter him as he whipped his chain around his head, slashing into the alpha’s hide.  The crusader found it disconcerting, however, that two more of his blows, equally perfectly placed, seemed to pass right through the animal.
“Careful!” he heard Mandi call from the landing.  “These creatures are magical.  They generate a mystic field about themselves that warps and displaces light, making it seem that they are where they are not.”
“Hmm,” Marius mused.  “What if I just blow up everything?”  To answer his own question, he hurled a ball of flame into the room behind the beasts.  It detonated, engulfing the pack lord and two of its smaller kin, leaving them howling in pain from raw burns.  “That seems to work just fine,” the gnome said, nodding smugly.
“Yes, magic seems to be the great equalizer,” Mandi concurred.  She then wove her own spell, rooting the alpha where he stood, rigid and unmoving.  Sepoto recognized the effect, and didn’t waste the opportunity.  Ignoring the flailing tentacles of the animals around him, he wrapped his chain carefully around the pack lord’s neck, then pulled it taught and up with a sharp twist, snapping the creature’s neck.  

By that time, the two displacer beasts that had left the room had reached the landing, coming from opposite directions.  Samson moved to intercept the first, while Tower Cleaver blocked the second.  Displacement or no, the minotaur’s axe connected solidly with his opponent, nearly chopping the beast in two.  Samson was not as impressive with his own attack, but no less effective, bringing his foe down with a combination of his acidic breath, and several deftly aimed blows from his morningstar.

Sepoto stood in the midst of the remaining three creatures, dodging most of their blows, and shrugging off the occasional one that got through his defenses.  His counter attacks were much more debilitating, bringing down another of the beasts in short order.  A conjured hail of stone courtesy of Marius crushed and buried a second one, while a perfect strike to the base of the third’s skull by Samson finished it off.

As the last creature fell, Mandi’s eyes locked on the sarcophagi, and she moved into the chamber to inspect them more closely.  All of them, save for the one at the top of the ziggurat, had been opened.  Two of these were completely empty, while the others held only the barest bits of bone and shreds of cloth.  Slowly, the sorceress fluttered to the topmost one.  She realized almost immediately what she was looking at.  The chamber must have been the final resting places of the Shensite masters, and possibly the grand master himself.  Mandi did not give this fact a second thought.  Her attention was riveted on the large diamond embedded in the lid of the last sarcophagus.  Pulling a scroll from her belt, she read the words to a spell, and then touched the lid, causing it to open of its own accord.
“What are you doing?”  Samson called from below.
Mandi didn’t even turn towards him.  “I would think that would be obvious,” she said as she stared hungrily at the shining artifacts arrayed about the six-armed humanoid corpse within the coffin.  
“It looks to me as if you are planning on robbing the tomb of the monks who built this temple,” the dragon shaman said, obviously incensed.
“Robbing is such a harsh word,” the Seeker retorted, still not looking at her detractor.  “The organization to which Marius and I belong believes in recovering ancient archaeological findings and returning them for study, so that we may gain knowledge from those who came before us.”
“I still think its blasphemy,” Samson snapped, “and I want no part of it.”
“Noted,” Mandi quipped, then she whispered to herself, “and after we’ve studied our finds, and sold them off, you can be sure you’ll never see a copper of it.”


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Umm...hopefully by Thursday at the very latest.  Hang in there.  Try focused mediation or feng shui.



Puh, that was close!  Great work, JD, as usual !!!

Nice work of the Legion, btw. Were you just lucky on your rolls or did you have magical help on the fight with the displacer beasts?


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## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Puh, that was close!  Great work, JD, as usual !!!
> 
> Nice work of the Legion, btw. Were you just lucky on your rolls or did you have magical help on the fight with the displacer beasts?




There were some frustrated misses on the part of the PC's, but with the amount of damage Tower Cleaver can deal when he power attacks, coupled with Sepoto's Blade of Blood, it only takes one or two hits.


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## Supar

magic! hell ya i had them buffed with righteous wrath of the faithful and elation +4 to hit +4 to damage depending on str mod not to mention there regular buffs sof divine protection  conviction and bless. i think i also used the rod of sure striking in that one extra +5 to hit.


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## Zaruthustran

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> There were some frustrated misses on the part of the PC's, but with the amount of damage Tower Cleaver can deal when he power attacks, coupled with Sepoto's Blade of Blood, it only takes one or two hits.




Wait--Sepoto can cast?


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## JollyDoc

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Wait--Sepoto can cast?




Yes, he took one level of cleric.


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## Joachim

It was about time we started updating our PC builds on here, so I will start.  Mandi just levelled (6th level spells, WOOT!), and here are her most recent stats:

*Ozymandia 'Mandi' Enoreth (CR 11)*
Female gold elf Wizard 3 / Master Specialist (Transmutation) 8
LE Medium outsider (native)
*Init +3*; *Senses* low-light vision; darkvision 60 feet; Listen -1, Spot -1
*Languages* Common, Elven, Abyssal, Infernal, Celestial, Draconic, Maztican
----------------------------------
*AC* 15, touch 13, flat-footed 13
(+3 Dex, +2 armor), +2 to AC verses ranged attacks
*hp* 73 (11 HD)
*Fort* +10, *Ref* +9, *Will* +14; +2 racial bonus against Enchantment effects
----------------------------------
*Speed* 30 ft. (6 squares)
*Space* 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. 
*Base Atk* +5; Grp +4
*Combat Gear* wand of enlarged _fireball_ (35 charges), wand of _detect secret doors_ (38 charges), 12 potions of _cure light wounds_, scroll of _haste_, 5 scrolls of _benign transposition_, 5 scrolls of _knock_, scroll of _shrink item_ 

*Wizard Spells Prepared* (CL 11th, 12th for Transmutation, 13th for spells from the Polymorph subschool):
     6th - _disintegrate_ (x3)(DC 26)
     5th - _baleful polymorph_ (x2)(DC 25), _hold monster_ (x2)(DC 23)
     4th - _assay spell resistance_, _celerity_ (x2), _Evard's black tentacles_, _orb of force_, _polymorph_ (plus Pearl of Power, 4th level)
     3rd - _dimension step_, _greater mage armor_, _haste_, _slow_ (x2)(DC 23), _sound lance_ (DC 21) (plus Pearl of Power, 3rd level)
     2nd - _alter self_ (x2), _glitterdust_ (DC 20), _rope trick_, _scorching ray_ (x2), _see invisibility_ 
     1st - _comprehend languages_, _magic missile _ (x2), _nerveskitter_, _ray of clumsiness_ (x2)(+8 ranged touch), _shield_
     0 - _amanuensis_, _detect magic_ (x3), _message_

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

*Abilities* Str 8, Dex 16, Con 18, Int 26, Wis 14, Cha 8

*SQ* Immunity to _sleep_ effects, able to notice secret or concealed doors, prohibited from using spells from the schools necromancy and illusion, no familiar, immediate magic option (PHB II) _sudden shift_ 7/day, minor school esoterica (transmutation), moderate school esoterica (transmutation), caster level increase +1 (transmutation), outsider traits 

*Feats* Collegiate Wizard, Craft Wondrous Item, Greater Spell Focus (Transmutation)(B), Minor Shapeshift, Otherwordly, Scribe Scroll (B), Skill Focus (Spellcraft)(B), Spell Focus (Transmutation)
*Flaw* Innattentive
*Trait* Absent-Minded
*Team Feats* Spell Barrage

*Skills* Concentration +23, Diplomacy +1, Heal +4, Knowledge (arcana) +25, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +23, Knowledge (nature) +23, Knowledge (the planes) +23, Knowledge (geography) +23, Search +10, Spellcraft +27, Survival +4

*Possessions* combat gear plus _Ring of Enduring Arcana_, _Tunic of Steady Spellcasting augmented with +3 resistance bonus to saves and +4 enhancement bonus to Con_, _Third Eye (Penetrate) augmented with +6 enhancement bonus to Int_, _Amulet of Arcane Freedom_, _Dimension Stride Boots_, _Healing Belt_, _Least Crystal of Arrow Reflection_ (attached to bracers), _Bracers of Armor +2 augmented with +2 enhancement bonus to Dex_, _Goggles of Minute Seeing_, _Pearl of Power_ (3rd level), _Pearl of Power_ (4th level)

*Spellbook* spells prepared, plus 0 - all (minus illusion and necromancy); 1st - _benign transposition, expeditious retreat, feather fall, grease, identify, lesser orb of acid, lesser orb of cold, lesser orb of fire, lesser orb of sound, mount, true strike_; 2nd - _bear's endurance, cat's grace, fox's cunning, knock, resist energy, wraithstrike_; 3rd - _dispel magic, fireball, fly, water breathing_; 4th - _blast of flame, dimension door, flame whips, orb of force, Rary's mnemomic enhancer, solid fog_; 5th - _cone of cold, greater blink, Rary's telepathic bond, telekinesis, teleport, wall of force_; 6th - _antimagic field, greater anticipate teleportation, wall of iron_ 

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

*Hook* "(Sighing) Please do not test my patience...I have very little, and you wouldn't like spending the rest of your existence as a toad."


----------



## carborundum

Wow - that's a fantastic array of items that Mandi has!
I also like her 6th level spell selection - Disintegrate x3 - what more do you need?


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## javcs

carborundum said:
			
		

> Wow - that's a fantastic array of items that Mandi has!
> I also like her 6th level spell selection - Disintegrate x3 - what more do you need?



Especially with those DCs ... man ... I would not want to be on the recieving end of one of those.

On a slightly related sidenote ... I'm playing in a group as bizarre as this or worse (somehow), 1 human Cleric of Wee Jas, a 6-Int werewolf fighter (dual wielding a greatsword/large longsword and a bastard sword), a half-succubus sorcerer (no damaging spells at all!! but a crazy high(for the level) Charisma), and a shadow creature human scout (mm, fast healing combined with damage reduction? sign me up!).


----------



## Quartz

Isn't a +6 Enhancement item at L11 a bit OTT?


----------



## Hammerhead

Craft Wondrous Item


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## Quartz

I know she's got Fox's Cunning as a spell and Craft Wondrous Item, but she doesn't have the Empower Spell feat to gain the +6 bonus.


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## Joachim

Quartz said:
			
		

> I know she's got Fox's Cunning as a spell and Craft Wondrous Item, but she doesn't have the Empower Spell feat to gain the +6 bonus.




Check out Magic Item Compendium, and the rules for adding common effects to existing magic items.  It's no different than the rules for crafting a headband of intellect, and Mandi meets the CL requirements (there is no difference in CL requirements for a +2, +4, or +6).  Nothing 'OTT' our out of bounds on that.  She had the cash, the time, and the XP to burn, so all's fair.  This is one of those campaigns where you are really rewarded for taking crafting feats.

BTW, you can't Empower a _Fox's Cunning _ as there is no variable...it's just a flat +4 now...in 3.0 you could.


----------



## JollyDoc

Sunday Night Teaser

1).  The group encounters a "survivor" of the Shensite Order, who begs them to end his suffering.  They oblige, but not quite in the way he intended.

2).  A beautiful waterfall hides a wondrous treasure, and a vicious guardian...well...sort of.

3).  The company embarks on a Shensite version of a spirit walk through blissful halls of mediation, past artistic statues...with six arms...that animate...and inflict incurable damage!!  Two Legionnaires are almost punked by this bad boy.

4).  Three chokers...no problem!  Twelve chokers, each with four arms...now that's a party!!


----------



## Joachim

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 4).  Three chokers...no problem!  Twelve chokers, each with four arms...now that's a party!!




Really, this should be written as:

4)  Tower Cleaver goes choker bowling, and scores a strike!


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Wait--Sepoto can cast?




Yes Sepoto can   with 3 levels of cleric and the Ruby Knight Vindicator prestige(In our campaign it is called the Eye of Savras) Right now I can cast up to 3rd level Spells. If I live long enough one day I can hit 5th level spells   Sorry took me so long to respond had problems getting on the forums.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> Yes Sepoto can   with 3 levels of cleric and the Ruby Knight Vindicator prestige(In our campaign it is called the Eye of Savras) Right now I can cast up to 3rd level Spells. If I live long enough one day I can hit 5th level spells   Sorry took me so long to respond had problems getting on the forums.



Would you mind providing us with Sepoto's current build?   

JollyDoc, have we not been giving you enough praise or why are you letting us suffer? Please tell us of the statues of dread and choker heaven...


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> JollyDoc, have we not been giving you enough praise or why are you letting us suffer? Please tell us of the statues of dread and choker heaven...





All in good time....which is to say tomorrow at the latest.


----------



## Krud

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> Yes Sepoto can   with 3 levels of cleric and the Ruby Knight Vindicator prestige(In our campaign it is called the Eye of Savras) Right now I can cast up to 3rd level Spells. If I live long enough one day I can hit 5th level spells   Sorry took me so long to respond had problems getting on the forums.




Any chance of you posting your character sheet mate?


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Krud said:
			
		

> Any chance of you posting your character sheet mate?




 At work now so would be working from memory and my memory is no good.I will try and get it up over the weekend.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Thanks !!!


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

As requested here is Sepoto

Sepoto (CR 12)Crusader of Savras
Male goliath Crusader 4,Cleric 3,Eye of Savras 4(Ruby Knight Vindicator)
LN Monstrous Humanoid
Init+2; Powerful Build, Mountain Movement
Languages Common,Gol Kaa
----------------------------------
AC 27, touch 14, flat-footed 25
(+2 Dex, +8 armor, +2deflection, +5 shield), 
hp 114 (11 HD)
Fort +12, Ref +5, Will +13; 
----------------------------------
Speed 40 ft. (8 squares)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. 
Base Atk +10; Grp +22
Attacks +14/+9 2d6 +8 
Combat Gear +1 Holy Spiked Chain(large),Gargoyle Crown(use DR5 adamantine 1/day) Smite +4 1/day ,5 potions of cure light wounds, Wand of Benign Transposition 17 charges, +3 Celstial Armor cast Fly 1/day. +1 animated Tower Shield

Cleric Domains: Fate (Uncanny Dodge) Magic (Use low level Magic items)
Turning attempts: 5/day

Cleric Spells

3rd - D:True Strike(From 1st level Domain),Magic vestment(cast every Morning), Blindsight 
2nd - D:True Strike(From first level Domain),Bears Endurance x2, Blade Brother(Cast on tower Cleaver and Myself when Cast)
1st - D:True Strike, Blade of BloodX4

Martial Stances, Thicket of Blades, Martial Spirit,Iron guards glare

Martial Maneuvers:
5th Shadow Stride(Shadow Hand) readied
4th Divine Surge(devoted Spirit)readied
3rd White Raven Tactics (white Raven) Readied
2nd Foehammer (Stone Dragon)readied
1st Douse The flames (white raven) Readied,Vangaurd Strike,

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

Abilities Str 20, Dex 14, Con 18, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 14
Flaw: Shaky -2 to Range for Extra Feat at 1st level

Feats Extra Granted Maneuver , Exotic weapon Prof. (Spiked Chain),Combat Reflexes,Power Attack, Standstill.

Skills Concentration +17, Diplomacy +13, Knowledge (religion) +14, Hide +6, Intimidate +13,

Ex: Steely Resolve(Delayed Damage pool Up to 10 points), Furious Counterstike(depending on DP Get Bonuses to attack and Damage) Indomitable Soul(charisma bonus on Will Saves),Zealous Surge(reroll on a saving throw 1/day)

Su: Divine recovery( Using turning Attempts as a swift action to Recover a expended maneuver)


Possessions combat gear plus Ring of Protection +2, Cloak of resistance +1, 2 Auran Mask, Boots of Striding and Springing + 2 Dex, Pearl of Speech (Maztican) 1 potion of Fly,Tooth of Ashan(Grapple as one size category higher which will be Huge for me)


Edit added tooth of Ashan and skills that I forgot to add when I leveled.


----------



## JollyDoc

BLESSED OF THE OBAH

Once Mandi had completed her ‘salvage’ operation, the group left the Chamber of the Sun and continued deeper into the temple.  East of the burial chamber, they came to a stout door in the south wall of a wide passage.
“It locked,” Cleaver grumbled when he tried the handle.
“Well?” Mandi said, staring at him with one eyebrow raised.  “You do carry a key, don’t you?”
It took the slow-witted minotaur a moment before understanding dawned on him.  He grinned, hefting his axe. 
 “Key!” he laughed.  Mandi smiled condescendingly.  The big warrior swung the weapon with all of his formidable strength, smashing the door to flinders in a matter of seconds.  The room beyond was silent and dusty, the weight of ages resting upon it.  Colorful murals showing rites of interment covered the walls.  Two stone tubs lay near the eastern wall, with shelving between them holding all manner of jars, urns and amphorae.  Stone tables against the west wall stood between cabinets and shelves that held wrappings, tools, and funerary items.  One of the tables bore a brownish humanoid beneath a coating of dust.  Sepoto pushed in front of Tower Cleaver, entering the room cautiously.  The minotaur followed with Samson close behind.  Marius, Daelric and Mandi stood outside, waiting for the all-clear from their companions.

The goliath had gone no more than a few paces when the figure on the table suddenly lifted itself into a sitting position and turned its gaunt face towards him with an audible popping sound.  Sepoto clenched his weapon tight, his muscles tensing, but abruptly the corpse began to speak.  The language was unfamiliar to the crusader, as it was to the rest of the Legionnaires…all save Mandi.  The sorceress had magically imbued herself with the ability to comprehend foreign tongues earlier in the day, when the group had first stumbled upon the writings of the Shensites, inscribed in the strange dialect of Kara-Tur.  She understood perfectly what the creature said.
“I greet you, strangers!  It has been so very long since I last beheld another living soul.  My heart swells with joy at your company!  I am Vestrilar, of the Shensite Order.  I was not always as you see me now.  Ages past, I died, having come to the natural end of my span of days.  Unfortunately, before I could be properly laid to rest with my brothers, the Tuigan barbarians attacked.  When the obahs saw fit to curse the invaders, my body was swept up in its aftereffect.  I found that my spirit was trapped, unable to leave this undead form.  What’s more, I also found that I could not even leave this chamber!  Centuries I have lain here, pondering my fate, but finally I hit upon three ways by which I might escape my cruel destiny.  Again, unfortunately, I could implement none of these on my own.  I knew I would need help, and now here you are!  Shensi has indeed smiled upon me this day!  Please say you will help me!  If you have the means, I could be transported to the realm from whence all negative energy springs.  The karma there will counteract the curse, and thus free me.  If not, then perhaps if you could instead infuse me with negative energy through magic, the effect might be the same.  Barring that, strong arcana, such as one that might break an enchantment could be employed upon me.  Tell me, can you end my torment?”
By this time, Mandi had entered the room, and she listened to the monk’s tale in silence.  When Vestrilar had finished, the elf mage turned to Sepoto.
“This creature says that he is undead,” she said.  “Have you ever encountered such in your theological studies?”
“Not only there,” the goliath replied grimly, “but also on our trek to Farshore when we were shipwrecked.  It’s a mummy.  Three of them almost slew us all.”
“Then you know that these beings are evil incarnate,” the sorceress replied.  “This one seeks to bargain with us to lift some curse it thinks it’s under.  I strongly recommend we destroy it…now.”

Vestrilar had been watching the exchange quizzically.  He didn’t understand what was being said, but their tones suggested they were disinclined to believe his tale, or weren’t interested in helping, or both.  Very well, the mummy thought.  If they would not aid him willingly, he would force them to.  But first he had to make himself understood.  The elemental creature that had been listening closely to him seemed a crafty one, but the minotaur and the goliath might just be stupid enough for him to sway.  After all, his so-called brothers had fallen for his lies, just as his lord Balim had said they would.  Chanting a spell, he imparted the ability to speak and understand all tongues on himself.  
“Will you help me?” he asked again, this time in the Common language.
To Mandi’s surprise and consternation, Tower Cleaver stepped forward.
“Why all things here have many arms?” the minotaur asked, a truly puzzled look on his face.  Mandi saw the sly smile briefly cross the mummy’s own countenance, and she knew that she would have to end things quickly before the living corpse could begin gulling the stupid cow.  She began to cast.

Vestrilar recognized the spell the mephit was beginning, and his eyes widened in shock.  
“No!  You don’t understand…” he began, but at that moment Daelric, sensing Mandi’s plan, enveloped the mummy in a magical blanket of silence.  A moment later a thin, green beam of energy sprung from Mandi’s hand, and when it struck the mummy it instantly reduced him to a pile of dust and ash.
“Why you do that?” Cleaver snorted, whirling on Mandi with rage in his bovine eyes.  “Tower Cleaver want to know, and little, brown man was going to tell him secret!”
“Calm yourself,” Mandi said coldly.  “He wasn’t going to tell you anything except lies to lull you into falling into his trap.  Believe me, I just saved your life…again.”
The minotaur continued to snort and seethe, but Mandi could tell that her words were churning through his thick head, and his confusion would eventually lead to his anger subsiding.  She looked around at the others, seeing support in the faces of Marius and Daelric, carefully composed neutrality in Samson and, surprisingly, distrust in Sepoto.  She had wondered when this moment would come.  The goliath had been the leader of the pitiful band when she and Daelric had first found them.  Over time, she had subtly begun to assume that role, careful not to raise the ire of the crusader at the same time she was manipulating him.  It appeared that the time for subtlety had passed.  She was sure that a reckoning would be coming soon.
_____________________________________________________________

Continuing beyond the Chamber of the Sun, the company mounted a short flight of stairs to a landing and another door.  This one was unlocked, and did not require Tower Cleaver’s unique skills.  The sound of roaring water filled the chamber beyond, and a fine spray of mist hung in the air.  The entire west wall was actually the side of the mountain, with the room’s walls built off of it.  Down this rugged slope fell a turbulent waterfall that emptied into a rock-lined pool at the base.  Lichens and moss grew upon the craggy face.  At the very top, fifty feet above, was the glint of metal.  A bronze, tiered dome rose to an open apex ninety feet above the pool.

“Interesting,” Mandi said, gazing around.  “This certainly looks like a room that might pay homage to some heathen god or another.  Cleaver, take Samson and head up that cliff.  Bring back whatever that is at the top.”
The minotaur looked up the steep cliff face dubiously.  “Tower Cleaver not climb,” he said.
“You probably don’t fly either,” Mandi sneered, “but just the same…”  She reached out and touched the big warrior, uttering a short spell as she did so.  The bull’s eyes grew comically wide as his feet lifted off the ground.  Samson quickly scrambled up Cleaver’s shoulders, settling himself comfortably in place.
“Giddy up, big guy!” the dragon shaman laughed, and then the minotaur soared into the air.

When they reached the summit of the fall, they saw that the shining item behind it was a brass reliquary, gleaming and unoxidized.
“Give me a boost,” Samson instructed, and Cleaver hoisted him by the back of his jerkin and extended him towards the container.  Just as the goblin was about to grab it, an inhuman shriek pierced the air.  From the other side of the waterfall, where it had apparently been crouched unseen among the rocks, stepped a large creature which resembled a great, winged monkey.  It had a long prehensile tale, in which it clutched a wicked-looking mace, and a tusked, undershot jaw, yet the gleam of intelligence was clear in its sky blue eyes.  It raised one paw and passed it casually before its face.  Tower Cleaver watched it hypnotically.  A moment later, the minotaur began jabbering away nonsensically in a language Samson was unfamiliar with.  The dragon shaman, still in Cleaver’s grip, craned his neck around and saw total blankness in the warrior’s cow eyes.
“Uh-oh,” he murmured.  “Not good.  Uh…guys!  Help!”  Quickly, the little goblin began scrabbling in his belt pouch as his feet dangled over the abyss.  He seized a small flask, pulled the cork with his teeth, and quaffed it down.  Then, twisting free of Cleaver’s grip, he flew through the air and snatched the reliquary.  The odd creature howled again, and lunged for him, but as it moved, its body suddenly shimmered and flowed, taking the shape of a small, barking dog.
“You’re welcome,” Mandi said, hovering near the falls some thirty feet below.  
Samson nodded, grudgingly, but at that moment, several things happened.  Tower Cleaver ceased his babbling, roared in blind panic as his eyes fixed on the little terrier, dove towards the floor, batted Sepoto aside as if he were a rag doll, and vanished through the door and down the hall.  At the same time, the dog began nipping and snapping at Samson’s feet.
“No!” the goblin shouted.  “Bad dog!”  He swung his morningstar and clipped the pooch on the snout.  It yelped, and leaped back, but as it did, it lost its footing on the slippery rocks and plunged fifty feet to the floor below, where it lay unmoving.

“Should I go after him?” Sepoto shouted up to Mandi, nodding in the direction Cleaver had fled.
“No,” the sorceress replied, “The spell is short-lived.  He’s a minotaur.  They live in mazes.  He’ll find his way back.  In the mean time, I want to see what that big monkey was guarding.”
_______________________________________________________________

Mandi was right about Tower Cleaver.  The minotaur returned several minutes later, hang-dog and shame-faced.  None of the others paid much attention to him, except for Samson, who gave him a consoling pat on the back.  The rest of the little company was more interested in the parchment scroll Mandi had retrieved from the reliquary.  Upon it was scribed a single powerful spell…one which would grant the reader a Miracle…

Six minds pondered in silence as they continued on their way.  Each of the Legionnaires could easily come up with a dozen ways to put the scroll to use, and each coveted it and harbored suspicions as to the motives of their colleagues.  Yet no one spoke of it.  Before long they came to a single, relatively narrow hallway which wound due east.  After a short distance, it opened into a small chamber.  Once-colorful tapestries lay in moldering shreds on the floor, and mixed in with the tatters were patches of midnight black fur and piles of offal.  A wild animal smell filled the room.  It was apparent that the displacer beasts had claimed at least part of the area as their domain.  

The corridor continued, doubling back on itself before emptying into a second small chamber.  There a four-foot stone plinth rested in an alcove.  Upon it sat a diorama of small gold and marble figures representing a jungle village with several human and animal occupants.  Strange writing covered the walls of the alcove, and a fine mist fell from somewhere in the darkness above.  Mandi translated the inscriptions, which amounted to little more than weighty philosophical matters related to the Shensites.  Still the hall continued.  They next came to a room which contained another alcove, this one holding a statue of a beautiful but dangerous-looking female elf with long, curving blades instead of hands.  She seemed to be spinning in a cyclone of dust and water.  The steady pitter-patter of rain created tiny rills flowing down its surface.  
“Wynnarth the Dervish, whose dance brings breath and whose breath brings death,” Mandi translated.  “It seems we’ve found another obah.”
“Strange,” Sepoto said, bending closer to examine the carving.  “I recognize her.  This is a representation of Gwynharwf, the Whirling Fury.  Perhaps the Shensites worshipped other obahs that are merely different aspects of the gods we know.  Jeran Emrikad should be very interested in that fact.”

Beyond that room, the corridor reached an intersection.  To the southwest, a stair descended into the dripping darkness, while to the east a statue of a six-armed man wearing exotic armor loomed in another alcove.
“Hmm…” Sepoto said as he approached the statue.  “There don’t seem to be any engravings on this one.”  
Suddenly, the statues arms began to move, and one of them swung, log-like and connected solidly with the side of the goliath’s skull with an audible crack.  
“It’s a golem!”  Mandi shouted from her position near the rear of the group.  Samson was already in motion, ducking between Tower Cleaver’s legs.  Before he could get close enough to the golem, however, he too was caught by a hammering blow.  As he sagged backwards, he stretched his jaws, spewing acid at the living statue.
“No, you fool!”  Mandi screamed.  “Acid heals these constructs!”
“Fine time to tell me!”  Samson snapped back, but when he turned his head, the golem struck again.  This time, the dragon shaman felt ribs snap and the bitter taste of blood in his mouth.  

“Cleaver, get in there!”  Mandi ordered as she began weaving her magic.  She knew that constructs such as these were immune to most spells, but not the one she had in mind.  Conjuring an orb of pure force, she hurled it at the statue.  When it detonated, several pieces of terra cotta were blown from its body.  At the same time, Tower Cleaver stepped into the breach, hammering his axe down upon the thing.  Though the blade gouged a deep cleft in the automaton’s shoulder, it was not as telling as the minotaur had hoped.  It was apparently resistant to physical force as well.  

Samson was in dire straits.  Instinctively, he called upon his draconic blood to heal his wounds, yet to his horror, the injuries would not close.  His recuperative powers were not working!
“Daelric!” he called in desperation, struggling to scramble behind the wall of minotaur.  He was not fast enough, however.  The golem clipped him again, sending him careening into the far wall, where he lay, dazed.  Sepoto quickly interposed himself between the golem and his friend, swinging his chain wildly.  He paid for his heroism dearly.  The construct swung two, huge fists, one of them glancing off the goliath’s shoulder, but the second one buried itself in his gut.  Sepoto felt something inside give way and he vomited a great gout of blood and bile.  
“Cleaver…” he wheezed, barely able to keep his feet.  The big minotaur stared in shock at his companions, and then a red haze descended across his field of vision.  When he roared, his howl shook the stone around them, and when he charged, he was like a living battering ram.  His axe blade dropped like a felled-tree, and when it struck, the golem shattered into a thousand pieces.

Daelric quickly moved to tend to his friends, but when he tried to bring his curative prayers to bear, he made the same discovery as Samson.  The wounds were cursed.  They would not respond to his magic.  Desperately he prayed to Shaundekal, begging his god to give him strength.  Samson and Sepoto were exsanguinating in front of him.  Several tense moments passed, but gradually their bleeding slowed and their respirations eased.  It took several more minutes, and most of the priest’s power to mend the injuries completely.  When he was done, he sat back, exhausted.

“We have to rest,” Mandi announced, assessing the sorry shape her group was in.
“But what if the storm ends in the meantime?”  Marius asked.  “What if we’re trapped here?”
“What if we’re all dead and it doesn’t matter?”  the sorceress shot back.  “Our resources are expended, and our physical strength depleted.  If we don’t regroup and recuperate, we’ll never make it out of here.”
The others agreed, and Daelric used one of his few remaining prayers to create an extra-dimensional pocket to which the companions retreated.  Outside, the storm raged on.
__________________________________________________________

The corridor branched again past the intersection.  The path they took led to a short stair, which descended to a dead-end.  The constant drizzle had flooded the lower section to a depth of a couple of inches.  Standing at the end of the corridor was a statue in blue stone that depicted a tall woman dressed in revealing robes.  Her carven face had an ageless beauty, yet the eyes glinted with a faint hint of cruelty.  A shimmering line of script was carved into the stone above.
“Shamarae the Lover,” Mandi read, “promising bliss and delivering loss.”
“It’s Shami-Amourae,” Sepoto said quietly.  “She was once the queen of succubi, but she is now exiled to an unknown part of the Abyss by her successor, Malcanthet.  I do not know how I know this.  I have never heard her name before in my studies.  I just do.”  Absently, he stroked the black fang which protruded from his mouth.

At that moment, a cacophony of shrieks and chitters broke out all around and above the group.  Descending along the walls from the darkness above was a veritable swarm of the six-armed chokers Mandi, Samson and Marius had encountered earlier.  There were at least a dozen in all, clinging to the mortar like obscene spiders.  In a flurry of movement, they began lashing out with their long, rubbery appendages.  Tower Cleaver was clipped in the side of the head several times, while Mandi, once more in her mephit aspect, was ripped out of the air by one of the little beasts, and reeled into a deadly lover’s embrace.  The sorceress spoke a word of command, and the amulet around her neck flashed, granting her the power to invoke her magic though her arms were securely pinned at her side.  Three scorching blasts of fire flew from her eyes, roasting the foul creature that held her.  She was free an instant later.

The corridor was mass confusion.  The chokers swarmed like monkeys, but the Legionnaires were seasoned veterans.  Sepoto lay about him with his chain, while Samson breathed liquid death.  Yet it was Tower Cleaver who was truly awesome to behold.  Like a titan wading into battle, his great axe swung in a deadly arc, slicing chokers in two with each blow.  One after the other, the creatures fell before his fury.  In the end, even his companions ceased fighting just to watch him.  He was in his element, and though blood and gore covered him, he laughed as if it were a spring shower on a sunny day.


----------



## Leinart

Man I've been waiting for sepoto put mandi in her place...hopefully soon.


----------



## theredrobedwizard

Leinart said:
			
		

> Man I've been waiting for sepoto put mandi in her place...hopefully soon.




If the place he's going to put her in is one of leadership, then we're agreed.

Mandi, Thrisp, and Anwar are/were the greatest of characters.  In a perfect world, the group would consist of them, Daelric, and Tower Cleaver.

-TRRW


----------



## Hammerhead

I know that I'd vote for Mandi instead of Sepoto in the great leadership struggle.


----------



## Joachim

Leinart said:
			
		

> Man I've been waiting for sepoto put mandi in her place...hopefully soon.




That little bit of party conflict was just put in by Joe for funsies I think.  For the most part, everyone thus far seems to go along with Mandi's ruthless and uncaring ways.  Samson may have some moments, but Mandi has stuck her neck out often enough for the others to know that she's a good teammate.  

To be honest, at the table Sepoto goes along more with Mandi than anyone else.  Don't be surprised if his alignment shifts to LE.  As far as a leadership struggle, Mandi does not expect people to follow her lead, and she sure as hell isn't going to take orders from somebody else.  The mummy is a case in point...she told the group what she was going to do, and didn't wait for approval from anyone before she set out on her own course of action.  If they had Mandi's back, then fine, but she wasn't about to get too broken up if they disagreed.


----------



## Krud

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> As requested here is Sepoto




Thanks  Nice selection of true strike.

Also Ruby Knight Vindicator seems to be a very cool class. I'll have to try it sometime.


----------



## JollyDoc

Sunday Night Teaser


1)  More clay golem goodness as the Legion faces off against not one, not two, but THREE of the nasty, six-armed rejects from Ghost.  Sepoto gets pasted five times in the mug...and lives to tell about it!!

2)  Leaving the Twisting Hallway of Doom behind, the group raids yet another Shensite burial site, only to have the undead guardians take issue with their trespassing.

3)  The quest for the 3000 obahs is concluded...in a very surprising way!!!


----------



## carborundum

I'm really enjoying the Temple side-adventure. You've worked it nicely into the Realms, and I feel obliged to compliment you again on your foreshadowing 

Thanks matey!


----------



## JollyDoc

Thank you, but in this case the foreshadowing was already written into the module that way, as luck would have it.  It surprised me when I read it, but it's pretty cool how it ties in.


----------



## JollyDoc

I would like to add this:  Last night Gfunk graced our table one last time.  He is departing Alabama for San Francisco tomorrow, where he will remain to continue his medical training for the next four years.  It is truly the end of an era, for G has gamed with me for the better part of the past 10 years.  Not only are we losing one of the best gamers I've ever had the honor of playing with, but also a very dear friend, although you never really lose the latter.  I've been assured that he may be able to join us at GenCon in years to come, and his voice will still be heard on these boards.  Good luck G!  All our love and best wishes!

P.S.

If any of you live in the bay area and are in need of a true power gamer, let G know.  Anyone would be lucky to have him sit at their table.

JD


----------



## carborundum

That's handy! And kind of freaky 

I just had a proper peek at the choker section - it's written like it could be a serious encounter, with all sorts of tactics. Funny how it turned into a Tower Cleaver solo slaughter-romp 

How much damage does that beast dish out every round???


----------



## Aracase

carborundum said:
			
		

> How much damage does that beast dish out every round???




With Power Attack +8 and Rage, he was doing 4d6+38 without buffs.  Average damage around 45 to 50.

He has 2 attacks per round, but what made the choker encounter go by so quick was cleave and great cleave.


----------



## carborundum

Good grief, Penfold!


----------



## JollyDoc

Aracase said:
			
		

> With Power Attack +8 and Rage, he was doing 4d6+38 without buffs.  Average damage around 45 to 50.
> 
> He has 2 attacks per round, but what made the choker encounter go by so quick was cleave and great cleave.




Ah, but it's that blasted Will save that'll get'cha every time


----------



## gfunk

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> If any of you live in the bay area and are in need of a true power gamer, let G know.  Anyone would be lucky to have him sit at their table.




Thanks for the nod!  As I write this email, I'm kicking it back in the Potrero district in the heart of downtown SF.  Look forward to reading about the adventures of the Legion -- this time as a fanboy


----------



## Krud

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Ah, but it's that blasted Will save that'll get'cha every time




Quoted for truth. In a Red Hand of Doom campaign I'm playing a Goliath Barbarian/Fighter headed for Occult Slayer to help me deal with just this problem. Its a weak spot alright.


----------



## Quartz

Would 2 levels of Bard be appropriate for TC?


----------



## Quartz

I'd love to see TC's character sheet.


----------



## Aracase

It's not pretty, but here he is.

*Tower Cleaver; Minotaur Barbarian 2/War Hulk 1:* CR 9; ECL 11; Size L; HD 6d8+30 + 3d12+15; hp 122; Init +0; Spd 40 ft (base 40 ft); AC 22, touch 9, FF 22; BAB +8/+3; Grapple +24; Atk: +20/+15 melee (3d6 + 19 + 1d6 fire/crit x3, Large Greataxe +1 (Flaming)), +14 melee (1d8 + 10, gore); SA Powerful charge 4d6+6; SQ Darkvision 60 ft., natural cunning, scent; AL N; SV Fort +14, Ref +7, Will +7; Str 34, Dex 10, Con 20, Int 6, Wis 10, Cha 6.
*Languages spoken:* Common, Giant
*Skills and Feats:* Climb +7, Intimidate -1, Listen +7, Speak Language +2, Spot +7, Survival +1, Swim +1; Armor Proficiency (Light), Armor Proficiency (Medium), Cleave, Extra Rage, Great Cleave, Martial Weapon Proficiency, Power Attack, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency.
*Special Abilities:* Ability Boost, Darkvision, Fast Movement, Illiteracy, Rage, Scent, Uncanny Dodge.
*Possessions:* 5215 gp, Cloak of resistance +2, Breastplate +2, Belt of giant strength +6, Large greataxe +1 (flaming), Skin of ectoplasmic armor.


----------



## Supar

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> If any of you live in the bay area and are in need of a true power gamer, let G know.  Anyone would be lucky to have him sit at their table.
> 
> JD




unless your the DM then prepare to cast regenerate every week due to you having to rip out your own hair at his unstopable chars

Gfunk man this table will miss you indeed. I will always remember most, the out of game laughs we have at the table and how the words "wait what can you do? How the hell did you manage that?" just seemed to make every sunday a little brighter.




			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Ah, but it's that blasted Will save that'll get'cha every time



Protection from Evil has been a standard issue spell for TC since his very first night dont question the powa of the favored soul


----------



## Quartz

Cha 6?! And an Intimidate skill of -1?! Bleedin' heck! Here's hoping Mandi crafts him a couple of +6 items. Probably with some sort of loyalty (to her) enchantment as well.


----------



## carborundum

Is there an official variant to choose either strength or charisma for Intimidate attempts? Maybe it's a house rule we have. Either ripple your broad shoulders or mention a concrete overcoat...

That would put TC up to ... what's the Str bonus for Str 34 again?


----------



## Quartz

carborundum said:
			
		

> what's the Str bonus for Str 34 again?




+12


----------



## JollyDoc

Quartz said:
			
		

> Cha 6?! And an Intimidate skill of -1?! Bleedin' heck! Here's hoping Mandi crafts him a couple of +6 items. Probably with some sort of loyalty (to her) enchantment as well.




Heh, heh, heh...he's one Ego Whip away from becoming a cow patty...


----------



## Quartz

Actually, are those skill points correct? Doesn't TC get skill points (and feats) from his monstrous HD?


----------



## Aracase

Quartz said:
			
		

> Actually, are those skill points correct? Doesn't TC get skill points (and feats) from his monstrous HD?



Due to his low Int. score, I gave him 9 skill points; one per level.  4 of those I put in Speak Language to speak common and the other 5 I spread around, the reason that some of the strength based skills are low is the armor check penalty.

As for the feats, he has 9 HD, which I translated into 4 feats--Power Attack, Cleave, Great Cleave, and Extra Rage.

I'll go back and double check to make sure that everything is carrying forward.

Playing a monster race isn't as straight forward as a normal character and I may have mis-translated/missed something.



			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> he's one Ego Whip away from becoming a cow patty



Joe has already killed TC once, I'm sure it will happen again.


----------



## Schmoe

Aracase said:
			
		

> Due to his low Int. score, I gave him 9 skill points; one per level.




Actually, the first HD (whether level or racial) grants 4 skill points.  In addition, Barbarian grants 4 points per level, and your Int modifier is only a -2.  Your total skill points should be:

Racial: 9 points 
Barbarian: 4 points
Warhulk: 1 point

Other than that (and the Will save   ), he looks pretty solid!


----------



## Quartz

Ah, he's a Monstrous Humanoid and therefore only gets a base of 2 SP per HD.


----------



## javcs

Schmoe said:
			
		

> Actually, the first HD (whether level or racial) grants 4 skill points.  In addition, Barbarian grants 4 points per level, and your Int modifier is only a -2.  Your total skill points should be:
> 
> Racial: 9 points
> Barbarian: 4 points
> Warhulk: 1 point



It's 4x (base+Int) skill points for the first HD, not 4 skill points.


----------



## Quartz

javcs said:
			
		

> It's 4x (base+Int) skill points for the first HD, not 4 skill points.



Yes, but as a monstrous humanoid, his first level is MH for 4x (max(1,2-2)) or 4 skill points.

So TC gets 9 points from being a minotaur, 4 from being a barbarian, and I don't know how many SP the War Hulk gets - call it 1. So that's a whole 14 SP.


----------



## Joachim

If you were a 'half-empty' kind of guy, you would say that Tower Cleaver is unbalanced (not in the broken sense, but more in the 100% offense, 0% defense kind of way).

If you were a 'half-full' kind of guy, you would simply say that Tower Cleaver has a 'focus of purpose'.

You make the call.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE 3000

The meditation hall continued, seemingly without end.  The next alcove the Legionnaires came to contained a statue carved of greenish-gray stone.  Eight arms rose from its flanks in various postures of thought and action.  The statue’s body resembled a single huge eye.  The constant precipitation that fell from high above coated the statue’s leering face like a sheen of sweat.
“Agalamar the Silent, whose fingers guide us to our fate as surely as our spirits yearn for freedom,” Mandi translated the lines of text above the alcove.  
“Surely there aren’t three-thousand of these statues,” Sepoto declared.  “This corridor could go on forever!”  
“I highly doubt it,” Mandi replied.  “It seems that the obahs we’ve found here deal mostly with issues related to morality and divine providence.  This path probably served as some sort of proving ground for the monks.  You know how self-flagellating those aesthetic types can be.”

The next alcove was empty, as its statue appeared to have been moved into the center of the corridor.  It resembled a massive eight-armed gorilla with no legs, supported by the knuckles of two of its arms.  Its ferocious snarl was captured beneath a film of moisture from a steady drizzle falling from the ceiling.  It blocked the hall completely.  The only way past it seemed to be through the alcove.
“Well, who would like to walk first into this painfully obvious trap?”  Mandi asked.
Sepoto sighed.  “I will.  It’s too small for Cleaver to squeeze into and still be able to defend himself should he be attacked.  The rest of you wait here.”
Sure enough, no sooner had the goliath stepped into the cramped alcove, than dust began falling from above, shortly before the entire western wall collapsed inward.  Sepoto jumped back at the last second, avoiding the bulk of the avalanche, but it was then that the chokers laying in wait in the shadows above, sprung their attack.

There were only four, and though they succeeded in looping their elongated arms around the crusader, they found they could not hold him.  The Tooth of Ahazu granted Sepoto enormous strength, and he threw off their appendages effortlessly.  His retaliatory attacks, however, where significantly more effective.  Making the battle even more interesting was Tower Cleaver’s blind swipes into the alcove with his axe.  Sepoto didn’t know if it was luck or skill that kept him from being sliced in two as easily as the chokers.  Once they had all been dispatched, he squeezed out of the alcove to the far side of the statue, and motioned his comrades to follow.
________________________________________________________

The company rounded another turn in the twisting hall.  To the east, the corridor was dry, but starting where they stood, a layer of moisture covered the floor and walls alike.  A fine mist drizzled down from the gloom amidst a tangle of iconography and support structures.  Twin statues of men in outlandish garb flanked the corridor in alcoves.  Sepoto had no sooner stepped between them, than they both animated.  Each swung great fists at him, and each caught the goliath solidly in the ribs, driving the air from his lungs.  
“Not this time,” Mandi muttered angrily.  Calling up her power, she wove a spell about Sepoto, Tower Cleaver and Samson, instantaneously transporting them beyond the twin horrors, leaving herself, the invisible Daelric and Marius on the near side.  As she had hoped, one of the golems moved to engage her and her companions, while the other went after the warriors.  When the first one rounded the corner, Marius was waiting, and he hurled a flaming orb of fire straight at the statue’s head.  It impacted with a terrific explosion, the intense heat causing the clay of the golem to flow like mud, melting its features into a shapeless mass.  Still, on it came, the warmage and sorceress falling back before it, leading it on, while Daelric clung, unseen to the corridor wall.  When the golem rounded a second corner, Mandi was prepared.  She loosed her own orb, this one comprised of force, and when it struck, the golem exploded into fragments and shards.

The second golem reached Sepoto, but the goliath was more than ready.  Imbuing his blade with the divine Blood of Savras, and calling on his god to make his blow strike true, the crusader lashed out, severing one of the behemoth’s arms at the shoulder.  Simultaneously, Tower Cleaver reached over his friend, dropping his axe like a guillotine.  When the blade hit, it cleaved the golem along its sagital plane, the halves falling to either side and shattering on the floor.
“Now that’s what I call teamwork,” Mandi said as she and Marius reappeared.  The sorceress’ smile actually seemed genuine to Sepoto, as if she were truly pleased that the companions had managed to function like a unit for once.

The next statue they encountered was inanimate, but disturbing nonetheless.  It was carved of jet-black stone and filled the alcove with its menacing presence.  It resembled a hideous man with a fly’s face and hunched shoulders.  Lines of text, highlighted by a red wash, were inscribed in the wall above.  
Mandi read, “Balim the Pretender, who endures that the lies of the world do not.”
“It’s Baalzebul, the arch-devil,” Sepoto said flatly.
“It would seem that, while evil comes it many forms, it is still universal,” Daelric noted.  
Samson noted with irony, the priest’s words, since he had steadfastly supported every decision Mandi had made, many of which were of a dubious moral nature.

Once more, the group came upon twin alcoves.  The southern most held a statue which resembled a large dog with a benign grin on its face.  The western one bore the likeness of a peaceful six-armed man in strange, exotic armor.
“Tektek the Faithful, whose constant friendship and loyalty shame us with every breath,” read the inscription above the southern statue.  The eastern one held no such description.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Sepoto said warningly.  
The words had no sooner left his mouth than the six-armed golem stepped out of its alcove to confront him.  One great hand connected with his jaw, rocking him back on his feet.
“I’m getting tired of this!” the goliath growled.  Another orb of flame roared over his head, courtesy of Marius, and hammered into the statue, but it did not even slow.  Its arms became a blur of motion as it swung them like pile-drivers, raining blow after blow down upon the crusader.  With each one, bones cracked, teeth chipped, and blood flew as the goliath’s body buckled like a sparring dummy.  
“Damn it, Sepoto, get out of there!”  Mandi screamed.  She hurled her magic at the colossus, covering it in a shimmering cloud of dust.  The golem began to swing wildly, seemingly unaware that its target stood directly in front of it.  The sorceress had blinded it.  Sepoto stumbled backwards, only keeping his feet because Tower Cleaver was there to support him.  Marius hurled a second orb at the maddened construct, this time melting it into a pile of slag.  Once the danger had passed, Daelric rushed quickly to Sepoto’s side.  The goliath’s injuries were horrifying.  They would have killed a lesser man, and the priest knew that each one was cursed.  The minutes ticked slowly by as he begged Shaundekal to grant him strength, and it cost the young priest every ounce of his daily allotment of divine power to finally mend the last of the crusader’s wounds.  He was exhausted, and knew that he would be of no further use to his comrades that day.  Still, Mandi wanted to push on.  Their time in the temple was finite, and the clock was still running.
________________________________________________________

They found one final statue in the convoluted passage, this one blessedly unmoving.  It was a coiling carving of malachite, recognizable as the same dragon-like creature that was represented on the roof of the temple.  The lines of script above it identified it as “Shensi the Serpent Spirit, in whose great wisdom we are but dreams.”  Beyond this small alcove was a chamber obscured by cobwebs.  It was clear that no one had passed through the area in a long time.  Stone benches rested against the north and east walls, and a stone table holding web-draped ewers stood between them.  Shapeless lumps lay on the floor, hidden under a layer of webbing and dust.  On the north wall, a balcony opened, overlooking the entry hall where the company had first entered the temple.
“We’re back where we started,” Marius said.
“Looks like this was where the battle with the barbarians started too,” Sepoto said, prodding the shapes beneath the webs, revealing two decayed girallon corpses festooned with arrows, and a desiccated displacer beast with evidence of several broken ribs and a caved-in ribcage.
“Have we searched the whole place except for the citadel further up the valley?” Marius asked.
“I don’t think so,” Mandi said absently, unfurling the map she’d been keeping as they made their way through the temple.  “Look.  There’s a blank spot…here.”  Her finger stabbed a large space in the center of the map, south and west of their current location.  “I think we can reach it by backtracking to where we met the mummy.  I seem to recall seeing an archway there that we bypassed.  Look here,” she indicated the space on the map which represented the candle-filled hall they had retreated from after Tower Cleaver had triggered the deadly trap hidden there.  “This room is directly east of the blank spot.  I’d rather not go through there again, so if the archway does not lead to a room that completely fills this area, I say we blast through the wall.  Agreed?”
Everyone did, especially when Sepoto reminded them that a pair of the six-armed, armored clay statues had stood at the far end of the candle hall.  None of them had the stomach for facing any more of the golems.

They found the archway, just as Mandi had predicted.  It had apparently once held a door, but it was missing.  The bare stone ceiling of the chamber beyond rose to a mere fifteen feet.  Shadowed corridors extended to the east.  To the south was an open area with the crumbled remains of a statue of greenish stone.  Dung and the foul remnants left by some wild beast littered that portion of the room.  Proceeding cautiously down one of the two hallways, they found that the central wall had been partitioned into burial niches, stacked three high.  Each held a human corpse in a state of near-perfect preservation.  Several had two or even four extra arms.  The second hall held the same.  
“Alright, hold up here for a minute,” Mandi said, standing at the head of the second hall.  “I’m not about to travel down there as live bait for more mummies.  I opt for a preemptive strike.”
Before her teammates could reply, the sorceress began weaving, sending twin orbs of fire down the two halls.  They detonated with blinding light and searing heat, immolating the long-dead priests.  To her surprise, none of them rose screaming from their burial slabs.
“Well,” she shrugged, “I guess they were dead after all.”
Samson glared at her, preparing a scathing retort, when all at once a low moaning filled the chamber.  Suddenly, ghostly wraiths in the likenesses of the Shensites, began rising from the floor and appearing from the walls.  In short order, the Legionnaires found themselves surrounded.

Instantly, the wraiths were among them, their incorporeal hands brushing against their skin, reaching through their armor as if it didn’t exist.  Wherever they made contact, the victims felt their blood run cold, and their hearts hammered in their chests, as if ticking down the moments until their own deaths.  Sepoto and Cleaver immediately went to work, laying about them with their deadly weapons.  More often than not, however, their steel simply passed through the spectral creatures, but when they did make contact, the wraith would vanish with an inhuman howl of agony.  Mandi and Marius called upon all of the force magic at their disposal, realizing that the powerful dweomers would penetrate even into the ethereal plane where the creatures partially existed.  Soon, the last of the revenants were obliterated.
“As I was about to say,” Samson said, pausing to catch his breath as he faced Mandi, “is nothing sacred to you?”
“Nothing that you would understand, boy,” Mandi replied coldly.  Then she turned towards the far wall of the chamber and uttered another spell, sending a thin, green beam towards it.  When it struck, the brick and mortar simply vanished, revealing another, larger chamber on the opposite side.

Tiers rose along the west wall of the room in five-foot steps.  Lining the tiers were rows of miniature pedestals covered with fragments of painted pottery and dust.  Interspersed throughout were short, gray candles tha burned with blue flames.  On the central floor were numerous reed mats and rugs.  No sooner had the group entered the chamber, than Mandi heard muffled sobs and sniffles from behind her.  Turning slowly, a look of complete confusion came over her as she saw that it was Tower Cleaver.  The big minotaur dabbed at large tears with his platter sized hand.
“What in the Nine Hells is wrong with you?” the sorceress demanded.
“So…sad…” the minotaur snuffled.  “All…gone!  All…destroyed!”
“What are you babbling about?”  Mandi snapped.
“Tower Cleaver not know!” the barbarian answered before dissolving into tears again.
“Imbecile!” Mandi muttered, turning her attention back to the chamber.  The small pedestals numbered in the hundreds, perhaps even the thousands.
“Thousands…” Mandi whispered, leaning down to examine some of the shattered shards more closely.  “Three-thousand!” she shouted after a moment, standing and facing the others.
“Now what are you babbling about?” Marius smirked.
“I’ll wager that if you counted all of the pedestals in this room they would number three-thousand.  This room is the chamber of the obahs!”
“Was, you mean.”  Sepoto said quietly.  “Or are you seeing something I’m not?”
“Yes, you’re right, of course,” the sorceress nodded.  “All of the likenesses have been destroyed.  It would take…a miracle to make them all whole once more.”  Her keen eyes caught Daelric’s.  After a moment, the priest’s widened.
“You’re not suggesting…?” he stammered.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Can someone explain to me what’s going on here?”  Samson demanded in exasperation.
Mandi turned to him, a small smile on her face.  “This room once held individual likenesses of all the Kara-Tur obahs.  This is exactly what we came here to find, only someone beat us to it and destroyed them all.  And yet, we have something in our possession that could change that.  The scroll.  The one we found guarded by the air spirit.  It could undo what has been done here, and then we could claim them all and our mission here would be complete.  We could leave.”
“But what about the citadel?” Sepoto asked.
“What about it?” Mandi retorted.  “We didn’t come here to fight barbarians or monsters.  We came here for one thing and one thing only, and now it is within our grasp.  Remember, Jeran promised us five-hundred gold pieces for each likeness we returned with.  Obviously he never expected us to return with all of them.  Imagine it!  One and one-half million in gold!”
It didn’t take much for the others to imagine just that.  Afterwards, it didn’t take much more convincing for all to agree to let Daelric use the scroll.
______________________________________________________________

EPILOGUE

The Legionnaires had just reached the bottom of the flooded valley when the rain abruptly stopped.  The clouds parted and a single shaft of sunlight shown down upon the temple.  Then, as quickly as it appeared, the Temple of Celestial Winds vanished into the river of time once again.

The Sea Wyvern had already set sail for Farshore, but the company knew this going in.  Still, it proved no effort for Mandi to magically teleport all of them to the middle of the town square, arriving days ahead of the ship.  The townsfolk were no longer surprised at the sudden appearances and disappearances of Lavinia’s bodyguards, but a small furor started when they saw the imposing form of Tower Cleaver standing among the Legionnaires.  It didn’t take long for the disturbance to bring Lavinia, the Jade Ravens and Lord Meravanchi.  

“You’ve returned so soon,” Lavinia said, both relief and confusion on her face.  Then her gaze fell upon the minotaur.  “And you’ve brought company.”
“This is Tower Cleaver,” Mandi said in way of introduction.  “We found him trapped within the Lost Citadel and in return for our assistance, he offered his own to us.  He is a valiant warrior, though a bit naïve.  I think he would make a good addition to our band.”
“Surely you jest!” Lord Meravanchi interrupted.  “You expect us to allow this…monster to walk the streets of our town?  What about the safety of the citizens?”
“Oh, I think they’ll be safe enough,” Mandi sneered.  “After all, they haven’t seemed to mind goblins and ogres walking among them.”  She nodded towards Samson and Lugnut.  Meravanchi’s face flushed angrily, but before he could respond, Lavinia intervened.
“If my people speak for him, that is good enough for me.  The matter is closed.”
“Oh, it most certainly is not, Lady Mayor!” Meravanchi snapped, turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd.

At that moment, Jeran Emrikad pushed his way to the front of the crowd.
“You’re back,” he said.  “Were you successful?”
“You could say that,” Mandi replied, upending a small sack from which a seemingly endless number of obah statuettes poured.  Jeran took one look and then fainted dead away.


----------



## Quartz

Nice one!


----------



## theredrobedwizard

Lord Meravanchi said:
			
		

> You expect us to allow this…monster to walk the streets of our town? What about the safety of the citizens?




"We seem to have allowed you to walk the streets, why worry about a lesser monster?"

Good show.  Needs more deception and less Meravanchis.  Maybe it's Mandi's turn to slaughter one of them.

-TRRW


----------



## Joachim

I have been wanting to do a write-up for Mandi's character back story since I made her, and this seemed like the most opportune time yet.  I hope it reads ok...I am not a professional like Jollydoc:

*A WOMAN SCORNED*

Mandi slunk back in the deep chair, silently drumming her fingers.  After what seemed to be an interminable period of time spent crafting or enhancing enchanted items, she was finally done.  The elf wizardess beamed with pride at her latest creation, a gown covered in sigils and runes.  Mandi smirked, marveling aloud, “Who thought that couatl skin could be used for clothing that is both beautiful and practical?”  At that instant, as if on cue, the candle on the table next to her flickered, and the light danced on the prismatic scales coating the garment.  Apart from turning heads, Mandi knew that the magic imbued in her new robe would offer some small degree of protection and the runes would enhance her already potent Transmutation magic.

Closing her eyes and rubbing her temples, Mandi began to replay the events of the past several months in her mind.  It had been five months since Lavinia’s Legion (or whatever in the Nine Hells Sepoto and Samson insisted on calling themselves) had returned from the cursed Shensite Temple.  During that time Mandi had largely withdrawn from the group, working tirelessly in her laboratory.

Mandi would emerge and join the Legion at least once a week, most often for dinner with Lavinia at her home.  At this time, each team member would report on their activities, if any, as well as discuss any new rumors they might have heard.  The majority of these meetings, however, turned into the others discussing what they were going to do once they got their fortune in gold from the Seekers lodge.  Jeran himself did not have the gold available to pay the group in full, so he sent word to the large Seeker lodge in Tashluta by the first ship to leave for the mainland.  Considering the massive wealth that the Seekers would most certainly amass in the distribution of this lost lore, Mandi knew that the fortune due the Legion would easily be recouped.  Colleges and sages across Faerun would pay the Seekers, and pay well for a trove of knowledge both so esoteric and complete.

The topic of conversation at this past evening’s dinner session was no different than seemingly countless ones before.  From discussions of Sepoto’s proposed enhancements to his spiked chain, to Marius’ dreams of a set of heavily magicked mithral plate armor, each member shared how they were going to put that wealth to work…all except Mandi, who merely listened to each tale with growing boredom.

Mandi had made other provisions with Jeran when he prepared his letter to the Seeker Council.  The elf wizardess was not interested in waiting for a boat to carry her wealth to her, and she requested that her Seeker superiors in Tashluta secure her portion in their vault there until such time as she was capable of retrieving it herself through powerful teleportation magic.  To ensure that they would comply, Mandi had made sure that the lodge would receive a full tithe from her share, as well as a sizable donation for ‘the betterment of local Chapter’.

Reflecting deeper, Mandi found that she was actually relieved that the money would be kept away from her, at least temporarily.  She feared that such a personal hoard would bring complacency and dull her focus.  Mandi knew that she still had work to do.

Ozymandia Enoreth still had a score to settle.

The elf wizardess eyes narrowed, and in an instant all traces of mirth disappeared.  The pain, the realization of loss all began to rush back.  The memories and emotion, publicly held in check by a dam of cold stoicism, rushed forth…

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

The Blue Nixie plowed its way through the western reaches of the Sea of Swords, her deck a beehive of activity.  After three months of hard travel, there was a palpable sense that they were nearing their destination.  For the past several days, Mandi noted, the crew had been going about their business with renewed vigor.  Standing near the ship’s prow, Mandi stared out across the unending horizon before her, hoping to catch her first glimpse of the Isle of Dread.

A young Lord Maravanchi walked up to the transmuter.  “You elves have far too much patience.  Every day I see you sitting up here, for as long as there is light, looking for the Isle.  ”  Mandi smiled warmly and genuinely, replying, “What else am I going to do here?  It’s not like there is anything else I could occupy myself with.”  Maravanchi chuckled.

_I was so naïve to trust, even admire, that man.  Or Maravanchi had not yet turned into such a self-serving self-important bastard.  Or both._

At that instant, two words rang out from the crow’s nest…two words that carried relief and salvation for all of those on board.

“Land ho!”

Excitedly, Mandi stared ahead of the ship.  Interminably slowly, she could see a portion of the horizon rising, ever so slowly.  The scout was right.  Verik needed to know.

Dashing off the foc’sle, Mandi darted into the ships hold.  Pushing her way through throngs of excited sailors, she made her way to the Vanderborens’ state room, and banged on the door.  “Master Vanderboren, you are needed on the deck immediately!”

The door to the chamber swung open abruptly.  Verik was breathing hard, a look of anger in his eyes.  Behind him, Mandi could see Larissa, the skin under her eyes puffy and red.  They had been fighting.  Again.  Verik barked, “What is it now?”

Mandi gulped, but replied, “Sir, we have spotted land on the horizon.  The Isle of Dread is within sight.”

Verik’s eyes widened, all signs of his anger melting away.  The Master Seeker pushed past his apprentice and rushed off to the top deck, leaving Mandi and Larissa alone.  After a couple seconds of awkward silence, Mandi bowed her head.  “Milady, is there anything I can do for you?”  The wizardess was beginning to understand what they were fighting about, and her fears were confirmed when the look of frustration and sadness on Larissa’s face was replaced with a cold stare.

“No.  I am fine.  Go now and attend to your ‘master’ as I am sure you want to.”

Bowing her head nervously, Mandi stepped back and closed the door to the room.  Exhaling loudly, the wizardess began to make her way to the top level of the ship.  Less than six months ago, she had been assigned by the Council to act as an apprentice and servant of a Master Seeker.  During her short period of indentured servitude, Mandi and Verik had become extremely close friends.  It was no secret that Larissa was become insanely jealous of the close relationship the two shared. It was a secret was that Verik and Mandi had, in fact, become paramours.  Larissa’s suspicions must have been growing.

The dark-haired elf emerged from the hold, glad to be breathing air not reeking of pickled fish and unwashed humanity, and moved to stand by Verik’s side.  Verik, brimming with pride, stared over the island.  “Mandi, now matter how many times I make this trip, this part never grows old.”

“Yes, master.”

Leaning close, Verik whispered into the elf’s ear, “Larissa suspects.  We need to start being careful.”

“Yes, master.”

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

After six months of hard labor, the outpost of Farshore was starting to take shape.  Several small to medium sized structures had already been constructed, and both the town hall and hall of records buildings were well under way.  Throughout the process, Verik never stopped.  This was his dream and he would be damned if it weren’t going to become a reality.  If the nobleman wasn’t visiting and entreating the nearby Maztican tribes, he was in planning meetings with the town elders.  If he wasn’t there he could be found, axe or adze in hand, lending his own muscle to the construction efforts.

As Farshore grew, so too did the feelings between Verik and Mandi.  While the elf was over twelve decades the human’s senior, she was still young as elves go.  Despite his ‘older’ age, Mandi found herself completely falling for the strength of character in the man.

As Larissa scoured the island on her own grand adventures, that miserable phanaton Hatoi at her side, it was Mandi that tended to Verik’s every need.  It was Mandi that stood beside Verik as he petitioned the Tanaroans for instruction in local agriculture.  It was Mandi whose magic, on more than one occasion, protected the nobleman from the periodic rampaging beast.  It was Mandi who led the Jade Ravens, the Vanderborens’ elite company of able troubleshooters and adventurers.

One evening, Verik entered Mandi’s hut unexpectedly.  Mandi knew that Larissa had that afternoon returned from an aranea-infested portion of the island, and the lady Vanderboren’s presence meant that visits from Verik would be curtailed.  Mandi had to stifle a giggle when she had learned that Larissa’s phanaton cohort had been captured (and most likely sucked dry) by the spider-people, and that the lady had barely escaped with her life.

The look on the Master Seeker’s face was foreboding.  Verik, as was his wont, cut straight to the chase, “Farshore is on its feet and should be somewhat self-sustaining.  In the morning, Larissa, I, and the Jade Ravens will be returning to the mainland on the Blue Nixie.  It’s time to initiate trade between Tashluta and the island.”

‘Odd that he said “the Jade Ravens” as though I weren’t a part of them,’ Mandi mused.  Nodding expectantly, the elf replied, “Yes, of course.  I will pack my things and alert the rest of the Ravens.  I am sure they will be glad to spend some time back in civilization.”

Verik looked down, kicking at the dirt floor of the hut.  “It’s not that simple.  You will not be joining us.”

Mandi looked as though she had been kicked in the chest. “What…what?  You’re going to leave me here?”

The man nodded.  “Mandi, Larissa knows.  Not just suspects, this time, but she knows.  Despite out best efforts to hide, that rat Maravanchi saw you and I…He’s been trying to undermine my control here, and he told Larissa.  I suppose he thought by upsetting my affairs at home I would lose my grasp here.”

Tears streaming, Mandi yelled, “I will kill that bastard!”  Verik cut her off quickly, “No.  You won’t.  Do not disobey me on this.  His death would only trigger unrest here.  Besides, we need his money to maintain this expedition.  There is another problem.  You see, when I married Larissa, the Vanderborens were in dire straits financially.  All of our family’s money belongs to her.  If she leaves me, then I lose everything, including the ability to fund Farshore.  I can’t let that happen.”

Mandi spat, “Coward.  I thought you were a man, not some sniveling kobold!”

Grabbing Mandi by the forearms, Verik promised, “I swear to you, by all that I hold dear, I will be back for you.  Once I have established trade with the mainland, I will have no need for Larissa’s fortune, and I will be yours.  Until that time, certain…appearances must be kept up.”

Mandi wrenched herself free and pointed to the door.  “Go.  I will wait for you here, but right now I just want you out of my sight.”

Verik nodded, and left the hut, softly closing the door behind him.  He could still hear the sobbing coming from the other side as he walked away.

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

Mandi’s eyes snapped open, her reverie ended.  As time on the island had passed, the elf knew that she became more and more bitter, her heart increasingly cold.  All that she had needed was for her love’s vessel to show in the Farshore bay and all would have been forgotten and forgiven.  So she had waited.  And waited.  Four long years passed, and still no sign.  Through _sending_ spells, Verik would keep her apprised of his progress, always ending his message with three words: I love you.  One day, the messages stopped.

Upon learning of his and Larissa’s death from members of the Legion, Mandi’s heart turned black.  There was nothing fueling her actions now except for an insatiable thirst for revenge.  True, Vanthus was the actual murderer of his parents and now he was dead, but there was so much more to do. Vanthus could not have become that debased and demonic creature himself.  He had to have been elevated by someone…or something else.

Mandi knew that they had found some information regarding some operations of the Kraken Society on one of their captured vessel.  In the morning, she would inform the other Legionnaires that she was leaving to investigate.  If they wanted to join her, their help would be appreciated, but she was not sitting around waiting any longer.

Mandi was about to start pulling on a string, seeing where it led to.  In her wake, she planned on leaving piles of corpses.  Only once she had destroyed the root cause of her lover’s death, or been destroyed herself, would she find peace.


----------



## carborundum

Woah.

Blimey.

Awesome!


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## Quartz

Ah, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And leaves the possibility of redemption right open.


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## Neverwinter Knight

Wow, that's like two updates in one go!  

Great way of solving the adventure (for the Legion). Maximized profits for the risks taken, although some evil is left to endure...

Joachim, thanks for Mandi's background! It actually does make her a lot more likeable. Although I'm guessing if Meravanchi keeps pushing she will forget about her promise. I'm sure she could come up with something...interesting. 

gfunk, I hope you will get to practice your skills in your new home. What would you do with all that free time anyway?


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## Aholibamah

Hi there--I'm planning on running this adventure path sometime and I am really enjoying reading it so far. It reads more like a story than anything else. One thing I really appreciate are the vivid descriptions, certainly it will give me good ideas for my own game. Very interesting cast of PCs as well. I've not read all of this but I plan to. Kudos so far!


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## Joachim

Quartz said:
			
		

> Ah, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And leaves the possibility of redemption right open.




Yeah, that was kind of the idea...redemption is not outside the realm of possibility.  I envision Mandi's original alignment as being LN, having shifted now to LE.  Mandi is not "I'm crazy and want to take over the world"-type evil, more like "I have an agenda and I have no moral qualms to destroy whatever comes between me and my goal"-type evil.


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## Joachim

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Joachim, thanks for Mandi's background! It actually does make her a lot more likeable. Although I'm guessing if Meravanchi keeps pushing she will forget about her promise. I'm sure she could come up with something...interesting.




Mandi is not trying to win any popularity contests, and her and Meravanchi have an assumed agreement...he doesn't say anything publically about Mandi's history with Mr. Vanderboren, and Mandi won't publically turn him into a toad.


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## JollyDoc

Aholibamah said:
			
		

> Hi there--I'm planning on running this adventure path sometime and I am really enjoying reading it so far. It reads more like a story than anything else. One thing I really appreciate are the vivid descriptions, certainly it will give me good ideas for my own game. Very interesting cast of PCs as well. I've not read all of this but I plan to. Kudos so far!




Thanks!  Always good to hear from new readers.  The SH is a labor of love, and can sometimes be a chore, but I always enjoy the finished product, and my players give me plenty of fodder to spice up the hack-n-slash.


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## JollyDoc

Sunday Teaser:

1)  Life settles down into what passes for normal in Farshore, with various Legionnaires lending their unique talents to town life.

2)  Alas, the rumor mill gets heated up, and political relations become strained.

3)  The Legion is sent on a diplomatic mission to ease tensions.  Will they resort to their usual form of "diplomacy" when they meet Emraag the Glutton?

4)  Having discovered more information on the source of the Shadow Pearls, the company seeks out the so-called Lords of Dread.  Turns out they are actually the Lords of Push-overs, and Tower Cleave-er gets another work-out.  

5)  The Legion is presented with two unexpected prisoners, one high-n-mighty, the other low-n-stinky.  Which one will they choose to aid?


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## Neverwinter Knight

Ah, this should be fun. I wonder how negotiations with Emraag go. Will he become a 500hp bunny? 

Looking forward to the Trogo-cleave-athon.


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## Zaruthustran

Nice work on both the update and the origin story. So great!


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## JollyDoc

THE LORDS OF DREAD

Six months had come and gone since the Legion’s foray into the Temple of Celestial Winds.  Amella Venkalie had returned aboard the Blue Nixie, the ship laden with much-needed supplies and personnel.  The colony was growing rapidly and flourishing, and life had settled into what passed for normal for the six companions.  Tower Cleaver had finally found his niche among the populace, hiring himself out as a stevedore on the docks, or as a day laborer for the farmers.  He had even managed to befriend young Tavey Nesk, who had been adopted by and older farm couple.  Mandi kept largely to herself, absorbed as she was in her magical research.  She was seen only sporadically, usually joining her adventuring partners for weekly dinners at the Vanderboren manor.  Likewise, Samson was not often seen.  He spent much of his time in the surrounding wilds of the island, usually in the company of Tehrik Arrelion, the tanner.  The dragon shaman was in search of any sign of true dragons, particularly the forest-loving Greens, from whence his power came.  Tehrik assured him that he had never seen such evidence in all his years on the island, but Samson was determined.  All he had encountered, however, where flocks of the wild, animalistic wyverns that seemed ubiquitous in the area.  Marius was often seen with Jeran, helping the old Seeker to catalogue the treasure-trove of obah history the group had discovered, while Daelric spent his time regaling anyone who would listen about his exploits with the Legion, usually for the cost of a drink.  Though Catherly had prevailed upon him to assist Bombur with the day-to-day running of the church, the young priest could not be bothered.    Sepoto had settled into a sort of domestic partnership with Ruby the Weaver, the young woman he had rescued from the Rat’s End pirates, yet his other urges continued to gnaw at him, and it had become status quo for the local shopkeepers to turn a blind eye to his minor pilfering, though some, fueled by Lord Meravanchi’s rhetoric, saw it as more proof that Lavinia cared little for her electorate, and allowed her hired swords to do as they pleased.  Daelric’s posturing did not help matters any.

As the months passed, these rumors and mutterings began to grown louder.  Soon some of the folk were questioning Lavinia’s right to lead the colony, and whispers of a hidden, fiendish taint in her soul and ties to the Kraken Society grew louder.  Finally, the Lady Mayor summoned her regulators to her manor for breakfast one morning.  The Vanderboren home was one of the largest and most lavishly appointed in Farshore, rivaled only by Lord Meravanchi’s estate.  The white-washed, two-story building was crowned by a small dome set with stained-glass windows that depicted sailing ships and fair seas.  Within, however, much of the house remained unused, dusty gray sheets covering fine furniture and artwork in all the rooms except the kitchen, dining hall, Lavinia’s quarters and those rooms she had invited the Legionnaires to guest in whenever they took a liking.  Since taking up the reins as Farshore’s leader Lavinia had spent little time seeing to her personal affairs.  When her guests arrived, they were served a simple meal of toast, coffee and boiled turtle eggs.  As the companions began their meal, the young noble folded her hands on the table in front of her, and spoke in solemn tones.
“In the past weeks I’ve discovered that Farshore wasn’t the only victim of the pirates’ attack.  It seems that my personal reputation also took a bit of fire.  The people of Farshore have seen too much panic and death under my leadership, and the appearance of the pirates and Van…”  
Lavinia choked on the name, and took a moment to steady herself before continuing.
“…the pirates and my brother startled them.  Now some of the colonists claim that my family is cursed, while others whisper that I somehow orchestrated the attack.”
“Yes, and we know who started those whispers,” Sepoto growled.
Lavinia took a sip of her tea and nodded.  “Be that as it may, and though it aggravates me after all we’ve been through, I won’t allow a few rumors to discourage me from my work here.  Part of me even understands the peoples’ concerns, and I’d like to do what I can to dissuade their fears.  This would be where you come in.  Along the north coast of the island, a dragon turtle of gigantic proportions makes his home.  The beast calls himself Emraag, but the locals know him as ‘The Glutton.’  If we’re to believe the rumors, it’s a miracle that any of us are sitting here now, as the Glutton supposedly has a taste for ships and sailors.  Yet apparently the thing’s vices aren’t limited to swallowing down whole crews.  The Kraken Society made a deal with the creature, bribing it to leave their ships intact on their visits to Gallivant Cove.  Lord Meravanchi, however, has refused to ‘negotiate with monsters,’ apparently preferring that our supply ships be eaten and our people go hungry.  Therefore, my thought to ease the concerns of the colonists is to appease the beast that’s already caused them so much hardship.  I’d like you to sail to the isle’s northern shores and seek out Emraag the Glutton.  I’ll provide you with a cache of treasures to bribe the brute…a down payment on Farshore’s ‘tribute’ to him, offered for the assurance that he leaves vessels flying my family’s colors be.  If an agreement can be met, excellent.  If not…well, I trust in your ability to conquer in that arena as well.  More to the point, there’s the matter of the Kraken Society’s interest in Gallivant Cove.  According to the logs and papers we’ve recovered from my brother’s ship, the Brine Harlot, they’ve made several visits to a beach on the southern shore of the cove to meet with a group they call the ‘Lords of Dread.’”
At this point Lavinia slid a sheaf of papers across the table to Mandi.
“According to these notes,” she continued, “they’ve been purchasing large quantities of what they’re calling ‘shadow pearls.’  I believe some of you’ve had some experience with these things before, as one of them was apparently the cause of the trouble at Kraken’s Cove some months ago.  The thought of dozens of shadow pearls in the possession of the Kraken Society is chilling.”
Putting her cup down, Lavinia looked at each of the Legionnaires in turn.  “I know it’s dangerous dealing with such a beast, but if you can convince Emraag to accept our offer, you might even be able to learn a few things from him.  In any event, securing the dragon turtle’s goodwill should allow free access to the Lords of Dread.  And it would be a huge step in turning this colony from an isolated backwater into a destination for merchants from the world over.  Therefore, I ask you this not just for myself, but on behalf of all the people of Farshore.”

Mandi had been perusing the papers Lavinia had given her, and at that point, she read aloud from one of them.
“ ‘We reached Gallivant Cove with no incident, although the Seventh Coil yuan-ti renewed their demands for shore leave.  I denied them again, promising them all the leave they could want once my sister’s little project is mine.  Payment to the Glutton went smoothly (that beast’s teeth would make fine trophies!), and I personally led a group of five to the caves.  The trogs looked worse than they stank.  Some sort of malady afflicts them for certain.  Lords of Dread?  Hardly.  Yet they took our payments and slaves readily enough.  There was only one shadow pearl ready for us.  I made clear my displeasure, but the simpering lepers convinced me that they were being truthful, and promised several more in a few months’ time.  I’ve tried to avoid staring at the pearl overmuch.  It’s depths are hypnotic.  After seeing the number one of these little beauties did on Kraken’s Cove, I make sure to keep it in a padded container at all times.  It’s too bad we can’t just toss the thing into Farshore with a catapult and let them kill each other off, but I’ll not be the one to tell command we broke another of their toys!’”
“Interesting,” Sepoto said at length.  “Well, of course you have our full support, Lavinia, but how will we go about making contact with this dragon turtle once we reach the cove.  Won’t he just attack our ship on sight?”
“I have already thought of that possibility,” the noblewoman answered.  “Therefore, I procured a native instrument called a ‘sea skirl.’  It is used by the Mazticans to attract sea creatures, but also produces a strange kind of drowned music if played underwater.  Emraag should hear and respond to these pipes being played.”
“Let’s just hope he responds favorably,” Daelric muttered.  
“Well,” Mandi interjected, “as Sepoto said, we are at your disposal.  When shall we depart?”
_____________________________________________________________

The Sea Wyvern was ready to leave port by the following morning.  Four large wooden chests were loaded into its hold, along with an impressive, eight-foot tall statue of Ventrue Vanderboren, a famed explorer and privateer.  The sea skirl was also loaded, and Lavinia presented Sepoto with a set of brass keys to the chests.  Several townsfolk were gathered on the pier to watch the ship’s departure, including the Jade Ravens and Lord Meravanchi himself.  The latter had made his opinion widely known that the venture was folly, and would only bring further disaster to the town.  The majority of those assembled, however, cheered as the Sea Wyvern weighed anchor, and called their well-wishes to their local heroes.

The voyage around the isle’s western edge took five days, and was blissfully uneventful.  Gallivant Cove itself was immense, at least thirty miles at its widest and longest points.  Its borders were sheer cliffs, and searching the entire perimeter for the beach of the Lords of Dread would be a daunting task indeed.  The Sea Wyvern dropped anchor in the middle of the cove, and Tower Cleaver quickly assisted the crew in bringing Lavinia’s tribute up on deck.  Meanwhile, Daelric was lowered into one of the jolly boats along with the skirl.  Though the priest had never played such an instrument before, nor any other instrument for that matter, a brief prayer to Shaundekal allowed him to focus his will to the point where there was nothing but him and the skirl.  He lowered one end of it into the water and began to play.  The music was haunting, reminiscent of whale song, but none of those watching, nor Daelric himself knew if that was the way the instrument was supposed to sound.  All that was left was to wait.

For ten minutes Daelric continued his tune, until finally the water off the port side of the ship began to roil and churn.  Something huge breached the surface.  To all appearances it was a turtle of gargantuan proportions, but its head bore a more tapered shape than its conventional cousins.  Had the thing risen beneath the Sea Wyvern it might easily have capsized the ship.  As it was, its wake caused the vessel to rock violently, while Daelric’s small craft was thrown roughly against the hull.  
“Who dares disturb my waters with such a cacophony?” the creature roared, its hot breath rolling over those gathered on the deck.
“Your Eminence, Emraag, we bid you greetings!”  Daelric shouted, struggling to be heard above the lapping waves.  “We are emissaries of Lady Lavinia Vanderboren, mayor of Farshore!  We have come bearing tribute, in honor of your illustrious reputation!  My Lady asks in return only that you allow ships bearing her colors to ply your waters!”
“Hmmm…” the turtle growled.  “Show me this…tribute.”
Daelric hurriedly motioned to Tower Cleaver, and the minotaur opened each of the chests, showing their contents of jewels, coins and artwork.  He then pushed the large statue to the edge of the railing.  
“A fitting offer,” Emraag rumbled.
“And only a beginning!” Daelric ad-libbed.  “If you accept my Lady’s friendship, her gratitude would be far reaching indeed!”
Emraag seemed to consider this for a moment before answering.  “Agreed.  I accept your tribute.  Push it into the deep.  I grant your lady access to my domain for the span of one year.  If I find further tribute suitable, I might extend my offer.”
“Your generosity is indeed boundless!”  Daelric gushed as Tower Cleaver heaved the chests and statue overboard.  “If your Eminence would favor us with his presence for just a moment longer, we would be deeply in your debt.”
“Speak,” Emraag growled, “and be swift about it.”
“Of course!” Daelric nodded.  “It’s just that we have enemies who also sail your waters.  Their ships bear the colors of the Kraken Society, and they have been here a number of times to meet with a group called the Lords of Dread.  Would you know of any of this?”
Emraag nodded, his great head splashing water over the gunwales of Daelric’s boat.  “I do.  Those you speak of have paid me a fortune in gold and exotic goods.  I know nothing of these Lords of Dread, but the pirates frequently meet with a tribe of degenerate troglodytes living near the southernmost shores of my cove.  Come, I will lead you there.”
Daelric could not believe their good fortune.  Hurriedly, he was returned to the deck of the Wyvern, and the ship hoisted its anchor and set off after the mighty dragon turtle.
____________________________________________________

Seemingly held together by brine and urchins, a rickety pier of rotted wood and gigantic bones jutted out into the cove, looking as much a scavenger-picked corpse as a derelict berth.  Twin rows of skulls impaled upon spears lined the pier, their eyes sockets flickering with otherworldly green flames and venting sickly vapors.  This unnatural light illuminated an eerie path into the darkness of a yawning cave entrance fifteen feet above the surf below.  This was the point to which the Glutton had led the Sea Wyvern before returning to his watery demesne.  Mandi instructed the navigator of the ship to take it back into open water after they had disembarked, and await further instructions there.  

Cautiously, the group ascended the treacherous-looking walkway.  The soggy planks climbed to the stone floor of a salt-encrusted grotto.  Refuse and broken crustacean shells littered several shallow pools near the walls, making easy meals for a small flock of sickly gulls that roosted in the cracked walls.  A ten-foot wide opening in the southern wall was closed off by a rusty iron gate.  Crouched before the gate was as short-snouted, fifteen-foot long lizard, its back topped by an eight-foot tall sail-like fin.  Its flesh was thick and crusty, and large shingles of excess growth hung from its sail.  As Sepoto and Tower Cleaver stepped to the cave entrance, the dinosaur immediately began barking and roaring, but did not advance from its position before the portcullis.
“Why are you just standing there?”  Mandi asked as she approached.  “Kill it.”
“Not attacking,” Cleaver said, stating the obvious.  “Just barking…like guard dog.”
Mandi sighed.  “Exactly!  And what do you think its guarding, or whom it might be alerting with all that racket?”  
Cleaver’s brow creased in thought before his mouth formed and ‘O’ of understanding.
“Come on,” Sepoto said, cuffing the minotaur on the shoulder and advancing, unlimbering his chain as he went.  The dinosaur continued to snarl and growl but did not move to intercept the goliath.  The crusader felt almost guilty as he swung his weapon about in a lazy arc, winding up before letting its tip fly with deadly accuracy.  The creature had no way of knowing what it was facing.  Sepoto felt like he might as well be killing someone’s pet.  Cleaver appeared at his shoulder a moment later.  The beast never had a chance.  With three more quick strikes, the two warriors cut it to pieces.

“Did you hear that?”  Samson asked once the grotto was quiet again.  “Something moved there, beyond the gate.”
The dragon shaman walked over to the portcullis and peered through the bars.  The stench of waste and decay lingered in the briny air wafting through the bars.  Two alcoves formed the claustrophobic cave that he could see.  To the north, three piles of matted and moldering palm fronds clustered around a mound of ash and dying embers.  Opposite them rested several misshapen clay jars, a rack on which hung dead octopi and cave lizards, and a rickety cart filled with large black rocks that glistened wetly.  A low passage in the western wall descended steeply into darkness.  Cringing in the shadows to either side of the gate were four reptilian humanoids,  troglodytes, as best Samson could tell, but something was wrong with them.  Their flesh was covered with hard tumors and thickened layers of dry skin, just like the dinosaur’s had been.  Wrapped about their bodies were layers of bandages, soaked through with a black, tarry liquid.
“Hello,” the goblin called in the Draconic tongue.  “We’re sorry about your guardian, but we didn’t know if it meant to attack or not.  We mean you no harm.  We only wish to speak with you.”
In answer, the four wretched creatures began weaving their hands in the familiar motions of spell-casting, hissing guttural prayers to their depraved god, Laogzed.  
“Don’t waste your time!”  Mandi called to Samson.  “Step aside!  Tower Cleaver, get that gate open now!”

The minotaur stepped to the portcullis, gripped its bars and heaved, his muscles rippling beneath his fur.  It didn’t budge.  At that moment, a wave of divine power washed over him, and for the briefest of instances, the barbarian felt blind panic grip him, but just as quickly it passed, much to his relief.  
“Keep trying!”  Mandi commanded.  “I’ll give them something else to worry about.”  Stepping to where she could see the room beyond the bars, she drew a slim, basalt wand from her belt and spoke a word of command.  Instantly the room exploded into flames and the troglodytes shrieked in pain, leaping from their concealment as they beat at the fire scorching them.  One darted to the far side of the room and seized one of the jars there.  Hefting it, he hurled it at the portcullis, where it shattered spilling some sort of viscid, green slime over Tower Cleaver.  The minotaur immediately began howling in pain as the substance ate into his skin, leaving smoking craters of exposed flesh and bone beneath.
“Bastards!”  Mandi hissed.  She recognized the goo as parasitic algae often found in the Underdark.  It had to be destroyed quickly or it would dissolve Cleaver to bones in a matter of seconds…and there was only one sure way to destroy it.  Speaking the command to her wand again, she loosed a second ball of flame into the adjoining room, but this time it detonated much closer to the gate, the flames engulfing Tower Cleaver.  The barbarian roared again in agony, collapsing to the floor and curling into a fetal position.

“I’ve had about enough of this,” Sepoto growled, and he stepped towards the gate, dissolving into mist and shadows as he did, only to reappear on the other side, solid once more.  Quickly, the four trogs moved to surround him, but the crusader was faster, and deadlier.  Like a coiled viper, his chain struck again and again, snapping necks or disemboweling his enemies as they approached.  The battle was over before it had truly begun.  When the last trog fell, he moved over to a lever protruding from the wall and lowered it, raising the portcullis at the same time.
“These must be the lepers Vanthus spoke of in his log,” Mandi said, stepping over the bodies and grimacing in disgust at the disfigured corpses.  “Lords of Dread?  Hardly.  In this case I would have to agree with our poor, dead Lemorian.  Daelric, tend to Cleaver and get him on his feet.  We need to keep moving.”
____________________________________________________

Beyond the second grotto, the company found themselves in a sloping passage, the walls of which were covered in foul-smelling dyes and flaking pigments.  Decaying organs, perhaps the morbid palettes of the walls’ brutish artists, lay in reeking heaps on the ground.  Between the primitive markings and bloody claw-prints, a lengthy series of crude pictograms extended down the hall.  While many were faded and obscured, three stood out clearly.  In the first, spear-bearing reptiles wandered a maze of ever-descending tunnels.  In the next, a large lizard-like creature exalted amid columned ruins, holding a black circle above its head as smaller creatures bowed and were stricken dead.  In the final section, a reptilian skull surrounded by a smoky mass of spiraling tentacles rained black spheres upon a cracking, smoking island.
“That’s Laogzed’s symbol,” Sepoto said, indicating the last picture.  “Do you think this means that he gave the trogs the shadow pearls?”
“Doubtful,” Mandi answered.  “But I do think it means that perhaps the troglodytes are not aware of the true source of the pearls.  We shall find out.”

The painted passage soon gave way to a natural stone tunnel which continued down deeper, and deeper into the earth.  No side corridors gave onto it, and no light pierced the darkness, not even that of the phosphorescent fungi common to such Underdark passageways.  The Legionnaires walked for what seemed like miles, but time had little meaning in such a place.  Finally, after what might have been hours or days, the sloping tunnel came to an end…at another iron gate.  Beyond this one, however, was a much larger cavern, the far side of which could only be made out dimly by those of the company who were able to see in the darkness.  Scattered around the area were cobbled domes of rock and mud, dwellings of some sort that were entered through holes in the roofs.  Near the middle of the cavern was a large pit, the stench from which reached the Legionnaires even from fifty or more feet away.  A pair of large cages with wooden bars sat precariously on its edge.  There seemed to be humanoid figures lying on the floor of each cage, but it was difficult to make out their details, or whether they were living or dead.  The pit’s  edges were rimmed by wooden stakes, and disturbing fetishes and bits of bone hung from the rotting lengths of wood.  A second, smaller crevice yawned in the stone further into the cavern, and a rickety, wooden lift hung there, suspended by a primitive pulley system of frayed ropes.  Finally, an immense statue of a rearing lizard-like beast crouched against the furthest wall.  A second visage, that of a crudely carved fanged toad, jutted from its exposed stomach, its maw partially open before a bloodstained altar.

At Mandi’s command, Tower Cleaver gripped the bars of the gate, looking around cautiously beforehand to make sure there were no slime-wielding trogs nearby.  Straining mightily, he hoisted the massive barrier above its head, sending an ear-splitting squeal of rusty gears reverberating throughout the cavern.
“So much for our surprise entrance,” Marius muttered.  
“Since when has that ever mattered?”  Sepoto chuckled as he, Samson and Cleaver began advancing into the area.  Sure enough, within moments the company saw movement from the far side of the hall.  Several bandage-wrapped trogs were scrabbling from the dome hole of one large hut, while a half-dozen more appeared from behind the large idol.  All told, there seemed to be at least twelve, and they came lurching and shuffling, like living mummies, across the stone floor, guttural prayers on their lips.  

Samson leapt nimbly atop another of the nearby dwellings, peering down into the hole to see if any more trogs would emerge, for there were twelve such huts throughout the cavern, and six had emerged from a single one.  If each of the others held a like number, then he and his friends might have their hands full.  Looking in, he saw a shallow pit in the floor below.  The smell wafting up reeked of rotting meat, reptile and pungent herbs.  Crude paintings on the walls depicted all manner of reptilian creatures feasting on humanoid shapes, and many of these creatures had reptilian heads.  Lying about the floor of the hut were four troglodytes, wrapped in poultices like their kin, but sporting many more of the horrible tumors on their skin.  Their eyes were open and staring, but they did not move, nor respond to Samson’s presence.  
“We’ve got more lepers in the huts,” the dragon shaman warned his companions as he hopped down, “but they don’t seem like an imminent threat.  Watch your backs just the same.”

Tower Cleaver was circling the far side of the larger pit when one of the figures in one of the cages suddenly jumped to its feet, momentarily startling the minotaur.  It was another troglodyte, bandage-wrapped, but sporting none of the skin lesions that the others had.  It gripped the cage bars, pressing its face between them and began jabbering in its native tongue.  Cleaver looked questioningly at Mandi.  The wizardess understood the Draconic language and knew that the creature was begging to be released, promising the treasure of the tribe if they would do so.  Impatiently, she waved Cleaver forward.
“Ignore him,” she said.  “We have bigger fish to worry about.”  Even as she spoke, she was raising her wand, lobbing two fireballs into the oncoming horde of trogs.  The explosion scattered the throng, but none went down.  On they came, and Sepoto was ready to meet them.  One badly burned leper fell quickly to his chain, but four more quickly surrounded him.  A second later, there were only three as the goliath wielded his chain like an extension of himself.

Tower Cleaver gripped his axe and waded into the middle of the mass of troglodytes.  Several of them reached out to touch him as he passed, their claws just brushing against his hide, but as they did, cold, burning pain shot through him.  He roared, foam slinging from his jaws as he brought his axe to bear with brutal efficiency.  Trog after trog fell before him, like saplings before a hurricane until  four of them lay stacked about him like cordwood.  Sepoto was not as savage, but just as effective.  Three of the trogs managed to touch him as well with their deathly cold claws, but two of them died for their efforts.  Samson leaped about like a dervish, slashing low at knees as he passed with his morningstar, and catching a pair of trogs with his acidic breath, melting one into a gelid mass of flesh and charred bones.  The final stragglers were systematically picked off by pinpoint accurate rays of scorching fire by Marius and Mandi.

When the field was clear, Samson sheathed his weapon and walked over to the cage holding the now-silent troglodyte.  The creature stared with wide-eyed terror at what he’d just witnessed.
“So what’s your story?” the goblin asked in the trog’s native tongue.
The troglodyte opened his mouth to speak, then paused to lick his lips and clear his throat.
“I am Irgzid Uzeye,” he said, “and I am considered a heretic by my brothers.”
“Why?”  Samson pressed.  By this time the others had gathered round as well, and Mandi gave a running translation to them.
“Because I do not have the Vile Rigidity, the wasting disease that you see upon the others.  My kinsmen feel it is because Laogzed is displeased with me.  They have locked me in here with infected corpses, hoping that I become infected, and thus redeemed.”
“And what do you hope for?”  Mandi asked.
“Freedom,” Irgzid answered.  “I do not wish to die, and I am uncertain this disease is Laogzed’s will.”
“Is that what’s wrong with the others in the huts?”  Samson asked.
“Yes,” Irgzid replied.  “They are more severely afflicted.  The other priests tend to their needs.  They are all but helpless.  I beg you to spare them.”
“Why should we spare them or you?”  Mandi snapped.
“You are strangers here,” the troglodyte observed.  “If you plan to stay here for long, you will need a guide.  I can show you many things.”
“What do you know of the shadow pearls your people supply the pirates?”  Mandi asked pointedly.  
Irgzid’s eyes widened, and he began nodding excitedly.  “Yes!  I know of them!  I know where to find them, and I’ll take you to them!  Just free me!”
“Why don’t you just tell us what you know, then you can go your way and we can go ours?”  Mandi asked innocently.  Igrzid’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“I may be beneath someone of your stature,” he said acidly, “but I’m no fool.  I know my only use to you is the information I have.  If I give you that, my life is forfeit.”
Mandi smiled.  “You also know a lot of big words for a troglodyte.  Be careful.  Your wit may just get you in trouble.”

“Mandi, we’ve got another live one!”  Daelric said suddenly from where he’d been examining the bodies in the second cage.  The elf moved to where he stood and saw that there was a clearly dead trog in the cell, but lying beneath it was a human.  A Maztican by his features.  Mandi herself could not tell whether he was alive or not.  His eyes were open, but if he was breathing, his respirations were shallow.  Also, he bore several of the large tumors that infected the lepers.  
“Can you help him?” she asked the priest.  
Daelric nodded and asked Cleaver to open the door, which the minotaur did by tearing it off its hinges.  The young priest then knelt next to the man and began praying, passing his hands over the Maztican’s body.  Soon both the priest’s hands and the native’s body began glowing brilliant white.  Before the eyes of the onlookers, his lesions began to shrink and then disappear entirely.  Then, with a sudden gasp, he opened his eyes, and stared about him in confusion.
“Easy,” Mandi said in Maztican.  “You’re among friends.”
“Friends?” the man answered, staring suspiciously at the minotaur, goblin and troglodyte staring back at him.  
“Yes,” Daelric answered, also in Maztican.  “We are from Farshore.  Please do not take my companions at face value.  They are honorable men.  We have come here seeking the source of a foul magic, black pearls that drive men homicidally insane.  We seek to end the source of their threat.  This troglodyte was also a captive of those that held you.  He has offered to be our guide through these caverns, but we are weighing his offer carefully.”
“Farshore?” the man asked.  “I have heard of Farshore.  I am Jakara of the Tiger Clan.  I met a missionary from Farshore, a man named Noltus Innersol.  He was impressed with the fighting skills of my clan and our devotion to the slaying of demons.  He asked that I travel to Farshore to show a priest there named Vesserin Catherly my methods and gifts.  Unfortunately, I was attacked not long after I left Noltus by a group of skinwalkers, feral half-demons that dwell on the high plateau.  I defeated them, but not before one of their sorcerers enspelled me, leaving my wits dull and my mind empty.  That’s the last I remember.”
“The trogs must have found you wandering,” Mandi said.  “We have heard of Noltus Innersol.  Catherly asked us to find any information we could regarding his whereabouts.  When did you see him last, and where?”
“It was on the plateau,” Jakara said, “but as to when, I could not say.  I do not know how long I have been captive here, or for how long I wandered before.”
“What will you do now?”  Daelric asked.  “We could use your help in our quest.”
“I am sorry, but I cannot,” Jakara said.  “I promised Catherly.  Perhaps when you return to Farshore…if you do, then we may speak more.  For now you have my thanks and my prayers.”
Jakara said his goodbyes and then left via the tunnel the company had traveled down, leaving them alone with Irgzid and a decision to make.


----------



## JollyDoc

Sunday Night Teaser:

1)  The group accepts Irgzid's offer, and his gifts as well, which leads them to contemplate a new industry for Farshore...

2)  Their new guide leads them safely past several poisonous pools of acid...but neglects to mention the elder black pudding.  Tower Cleaver vs Black Pudding...any bets?

3)  This time Irgzid does warn the group about a testy roper hiding at the bottom of a cliff, who can be bought off with the proper bribe.  What would our heroes do?  You guessed it...kill first, talk later, only this time it's Mandi vs Roper...any bets?

4)  An unexpected side trek to a village of mongrel folk gives the heroes new allies...and provides a new underclass for Farshore!

5)  Guided by the village headman, the Legionnaires are taken to see a bonefide "Demon Fish!"  Who would have guessed they'd try and revive the damn thing???


----------



## carborundum

Great update! Who'd have thought those crazy trogs would have pots of acid/ algae/ slime just lying around? What if the cat knocked if over? What if the kids were playing catch? Pure craziness (and poor TC).

Next part sounds even better! Never minds the demon fish, I fancy taking a bet!



			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Tower Cleaver vs Black Pudding...any bets?



TC in three.


			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Mandi vs Roper...any bets?



Mandi in one. Bzzzzzzt...poof!


----------



## Joachim

carborundum said:
			
		

> Mandi in one. Bzzzzzzt...poof!




No...not quite.  The roper got one good lick in first.


----------



## gfunk

Awww . . . I was hoping the Legion would toast Emraag, pity.  Seriously guys, think about how much treasure he must have extorted from people just sitting in his undersea lair and waiting to be claimed.  But then again since you are going to get a bajillion gp from the Obah Miracle sale . . .

Oozes = sux;  I can only hope TC didn't get his axe dissolved but I won't hold my breath.  Sadly, I don't imagine large two handed weapons are lying around as random treasure.


----------



## Zaruthustran

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Tower Cleaver vs Black Pudding...any bets?




TC splits the pudding (and loses his axe), then one pudding grabs and constricts while the other slams him. End result: naked TC has to be rescued by spellcasters. 




> Mandi vs Roper...any bets?




I'll go for the long shot, and say the Roper gets a few lucky hits that drain Mandi's strength to zero. End result: Mandi has to be rescued by melee guys.

-z


----------



## carborundum

I was reading the Elder Black Pudding entry in the MM - nasty piece of work!


----------



## Joachim

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> I'll go for the long shot, and say the Roper gets a few lucky hits that drain Mandi's strength to zero. End result: Mandi has to be rescued by melee guys.




You're getting warmer, but not quite.  Mandi does get some strength sucked out of her (nat 1 on a save, SUCK), but leaves her far from helpless.  A melee type does show up, just in time to kill-steal.


----------



## Aracase

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> ....naked TC has to be rescued by spellcasters....



Just imagine a 'naked mole rat' minotaur.


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Joachim said:
			
		

> You're getting warmer, but not quite.  Mandi does get some strength sucked out of her (nat 1 on a save, SUCK), but leaves her far from helpless.  A melee type does show up, just in time to kill-steal.




Kill-steal is Kinda Harsh. I was the first to hit it and the last so no Kill-steal.


----------



## Joachim

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> Kill-steal is Kinda Harsh. I was the first to hit it and the last so no Kill-steal.




Look at that...caught me a live one on that weak bait!


----------



## JollyDoc

THOSE THAT TIME FORGOT

Irgzid stood proudly before the odd pile of…stuff…stacked haphazardly on the ground before him.
“You see?” he asked.  “I kept my word.  My tribe’s treasure.  Yours, and all I ask is that you spare my people, and  allow me to be your guide on your journey.”
Mandi and the others looked dubiously at the detritus.  It consisted of a shed troglodyte skin partially filled with shiny rocks, hunks of glass, bits of metal and chips of gold and silver, along with a plain, wooden coffer.  The elf bent to pick up the latter.  When she opened it, she found a cushioned velvet interior filled with over one-hundred vials of a pale, blue liquid.  She looked up at Irgzid, quirking one eyebrow.  The troglodyte showed a toothy grin in return.  Mandi lifted one of the vials, unstoppered it and dabbed a bit of the liquid onto her finger, then placed it in her mouth.
“Sannish,” she said, sounding subtly impressed.
“What’s that?”  Sepoto asked.
“A euphoric drug, illegal in most ‘law-abiding’ cities due to its highly addictive properties,” the mage answered.  “What were your tribesmen doing with this?” she asked Irgzid.
“We used it to craft the poultices we wore to slow the vile rigidity,” he answered.
“Wouldn’t it have been more potent to use it to ease the obvious pain your priests were in?” Marius asked.
“That would have been seen as blasphemous,” Irgzid said sadly.  “The priests viewed their pain as a gift from Laogzed.”
“Then they were already deluded enough,” Mandi smirked.  “Our gain.  This gives me ideas…a possible way to give that arrogant ass of a Meravanchi a bit of payback for his pot stirring.”
Daelric smiled at this, while Sepoto kept his expression carefully neutral.  Tower Cleaver merely looked confused and Samson suspicious.  Only Marius seemed either not to have heard her, or not to care.  
“We accept your offer,” Mandi said to Irgzid as she closed the box and tucked it away, “but just know this:  when you lead us to the inevitable trap that I’m sure you have planned, you had best pray to whatever pagan god you venerate that I die first, because if not, I assure you that the suffering of your kinsmen will pale in comparison to what I’ll do to you.”
Irgzid bowed low.  “You wound me, lady.  I am your humble servant.”
“That remains to be seen,” the mage said softly.
_______________________________________________________

The company descended the rickety lift to a large tunnel sixty feet below, and then set off deeper into the bowels of the island.  Along the way, Mandi questioned Irgzid about his tribe’s role in the distribution of the shadow pearls.
“We are not the Lords of Dread,” the troglodyte replied to her interrogation.  “They are who we obtain the pearls from in exchange for the slaves we offer.”
“What do they look like?” Mandi asked.  
“Like nothing you’ve ever seen,” the trog answered.  “They are only humanoid from the torso up.  Their lower bodies are like eels, with tails consisting of three flukes, each ending in a cruel hook.  Their hands are webbed, and their heads are like large-eyed fish with facial tentacles surrounding a pucker-like maw filled with sharp teeth.”
“You’re wrong,” Mandi replied.  “We have seen them before.  They are called kopru.  We found one of them squatting in the wreckage of our ship.  We dealt with him, just as we’ll deal with these ‘Lords of Dread.’”

Irgzid led them on, down the twisting, featureless tunnel.  Time and miles passed, but the awareness of both was dim in the minds of the company as they concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.  Finally, the passage opened into a small cavern.  Trickles of water emerged from a crack in its ceiling, splitting into numerous rivulets that rolled slowly down stalactites and dripped off into several deep, milky pools that dotted the floor.  Irgzid brought them to an abrupt halt at the mouth of the cave.  
“You must be careful here,” he warned.  “The pools are not water, but a caustic acid.  Avoid them at all costs.  Even the air inside is poisonous.  I advise holding your breath and hurry through.  Do not tarry here.”

Sepoto took the lead, closely followed by Samson and Tower Cleaver, then Marius and Daelric.  Irgzid brought up the rear, with the exception of Mandi.  The wizardess stayed where she was, calmly observing her comrades’ progress.  Something about the cave seemed wrong.  More wrong than Irgzid’s warning.  She waited to see what had triggered her wariness.  She didn’t have to wait long.  Sepoto made it to the far side of the cave, but he stopped short of exiting.  His eyes grew wide and he took an involuntary step backwards, nearly running into Tower Cleaver.  Daelric had been approaching the tunnel from an angle and could not see directly into the passage.  When he saw Sepoto’s odd reaction, the priest crept cautiously to the corner and peered around.  His own eyes went, if anything, even wider than the goliath’s.  The entire passage was filled with a black, viscous, undulating mass, which was moving rapidly forward.  Almost without thinking, Daelric released his breath and began praying, ignoring the burning fumes that he inhaled.  Instantly, twin, intersecting walls of glimmering, razor-like blades appeared inside the tunnel.  The sliced and ripped into the pudding-like hide of the ooze, but still it came on, undeterred.  

Sepoto knew exactly what it was they were facing.  He remembered his last encounter with another such ooze deep beneath the mountain pass on their trek across the isle from the Sea Wyvern.  He had lost his armor, and almost his life.  The goliath was not afraid, but he had learned a healthy respect for these creatures, and he meant to give this one a wide berth.  Fading into the shadows, he reappeared on the far side of the cave, a good distance from the pudding.  Marius, meanwhile, saw the ooze too, and he also remembered the viscous horror.  Stepping behind Sepoto, the little gnome spoke an incantation and sent three sizzling rays of fire at it.  The ooze’s skin puckered and hardened where the flame struck, but it was relentless.  It passed the threshold of the tunnel mouth, expanding as it entered the cave.  Tower Cleaver had no idea of the danger he was in.  Suddenly, a large pseudopod extended from the pudding, and hammered into the minotaur.  As it hit, the barbarian’s protective cloak instantly dissolved into tatters, closely followed by the stout, leather girdle he wore.  Cleaver’s mouth dropped open in shock as the appendage wrapped around him and jerked him forward…straight into the slicing blades of Daelric’s spell.

Mandi cursed from the safety of the entry passage.  Daelric’s and Marius’ spells had wounded the beast, but not enough.  Tower Cleaver was going to be reduced to bone in a matter of seconds, and Sepoto was powerless.  She had to act.  Quickly stepping into the cave, she cast her own spell, targeting Cleaver, Marius and Samson, and instantly whisking them between dimensions to deposit them some thirty feet away from the ooze.  No sooner had Marius landed in his new position than he hurled a ball of exploding flame at the oncoming pudding.  The creature quivered, but still managed to free itself of Daelric’s biting blades and hurl itself across the room…straight at Tower Cleave again.  The minotaur had barely caught his breath from the first assault when he found himself entwined in the amorphous horror’s coils again, its acidic secretions burning his flesh as its raw strength crushed the life out of him.

Samson had noticed something critical when the creature had surged across the room:  it had purposely avoided the acid pools.  Though its touch was caustic, it was not itself immune to acid.  Acting quickly, the goblin rushed forward, drew his breath in as deep as he could, and then unleashed a massive, viscid spray from his jaws, completely drenching the ooze.  In a matter of seconds, the beast dissolved into nothing, Tower Cleaver falling heavily to the floor from its grasp.  Immediately, Daelric was at the minotaur’s side, administering his healing magic, though he could do nothing to restore the warrior’s ruined equipment.  Mandi, meanwhile, gave Irgzid a withering look.  The troglodyte shrugged, raising his hands.
“It wasn’t here the last time I came this way,” he said.  “Not my fault.”
Mandi said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes.  Irgzid knew that any more such oversights, his fault or not, might well be his last.
____________________________________________________

Several miles beyond the cave where Tower Cleaver lost his clothing, and nearly his skin, Irgzid brought the group to a halt once more, this time at the entrance to a wide cavern which dropped away into a black gulf below their feet.  A forest of stalactites hung from the ceiling, some dropping out of sight into the darkness.  A ledge, its surface glistening with moisture and mold, wound down the inner wall of the cave, a descending path of dubious safety.
“There is danger here,” the trog said.
“And you had best be damn sure you tell us what it is this time.  In detail.”  Mandi said coldly.
“There is a creature which lurks below,” Irgzid continued hurriedly.  “In your tongue, it is called a roper.  When my people pass this way, we always make it an offering of one of our slaves.  I do not know how it will react to you, but perhaps you may appease it in the same way.”
“Nice try, but that’s not happening,” Sepoto growled.  
“Indeed not, unless it is you we sacrifice,” Mandi said to the simpering troglodyte.  “But for the moment, I have a better idea.”  The mage bowed her head and closed her eyes, concentrating and mouthing an incantation.  A moment later her voice spoke directly into the minds of Marius, Sepoto, Samson and Daelric.
‘Now I can communicate with the rest of you over a distance,’ she said.  ‘I have purposefully excluded the troglodyte because he cannot be trusted, and the simpleton because these matters would only serve to confuse him.  I will go below alone, wearing Daelric’s ring so that the roper won’t detect me.  Once I find the creature, I will pinpoint it for you, Marius, at which point you can rain Hell down upon it at your leisure.’
‘Beautiful in its simplicity,’ the warmage replied.  
‘The rest of you be prepared to follow me down should things go awry.’

The elf mage transformed her body into that of an erinyes devil, beautiful yet deadly.  Then, donning Daelric’s silver band, she vanished from view as she flapped her bat-like wings and plunged into the abyss.  When she reached the floor, some four-hundred feet below, she found it to be a rubble-strewn field of petrified trees of all sizes.  Chunks of shattered branches littered the area, but a number of the logs were still surprisingly lifelike.  From what Mandi knew of ropers, they resembled stalagmites themselves, and thus were masters of disguise in environments such as the one in which she found herself.  She could not make it out, even though it might be directly in front of here.
‘Marius,’ she spoke through the telepathic bond.  ‘Can you hear me?’
‘Loud and clear,’ the gnome replied.
‘I want you to drop your largest fireball straight down.  Detonate it at four-hundred feet.  We’ll see if we can’t flush out our prey.’
Marius acknowledged, and an instant later the floor of the cavern was engulfed in flames.  They washed harmlessly over Mandi’s diabolic form, but none of the rock formations so much as twitched.  
‘Looks like I’m going to have to do this the hard way,’ she thought.  She flapped her wings loudly, hoping the noise would attract the creature, simultaneously lifting herself several dozen feet into the air.  When the roper still didn’t show itself, Mandi removed Daelric’s ring.  The instant she became visible, one of the ‘logs’ near the cliff face sprang to life.  A single red eye opened in its center, with a tooth-filled maw beneath it.  Six ropey tentacles sprang from its body, reaching fully sixty feet into the air straight at the wizard.  All six struck her simultaneously, sticking fast to her like glue and pulling her inexorably downward.  At the same time, Mandi felt her body grow terribly weak.  It was all she could do to keep herself aloft.
‘I’m in trouble!’ she shouted through the mental link.  Simultaneously she hurled magic down at the abomination, willing it to turn into a toad.  The dweomer simply washed over the roper, having no effect whatsoever.  Mandi was nothing if not cool under pressure, but her current situation had pushed her past her comfort zone.  Speaking a word of command, she willed the boots she wore to transport her out of the roper’s grasp, and safely out of its reach.

Back atop the cliff, Sepoto and Daelric were in motion, leaping out into the gulf, and then flying down into the darkness below, courtesy of the elixirs they’d quaffed prior to Mandi’s departure.  Marius started down the cliff path, Samson following.
“Cleaver, follow me!” the goblin shouted at the bewildered minotaur.  Cleaver had no idea what was happening.  First Mandi had just vanished, then Marius had thrown fire into the chasm for no apparent reason, and now all of his friends were deserting him.
“I wouldn’t go if I were you,” Irgzid whispered.  “Don’t you see?  They’re keeping secrets from you.  They don’t trust you.  Wait here, with me.  I’m sure the roper will succeed in slaying one of them, and then its appetite will be sated.  We can pass safely by then.  If it kills them all…” the trog shrugged, “then I’m sure you and I would make a formidable team here in the eternal dark.”
Tower Cleaver looked from the trog to the retreating form of Samson.  He didn’t believe the lizard.  His tribe mates would never leave him.  They were his herd.  Anger descended upon him, and if had more time, he thought he just might crush the lizard.  But Samson had told him to come, and so he would.  Quaffing his own potion of flight, he seized Irgzid around the throat, and dove off the cliff.

Sepoto passed Mandi on the way down, but as he neared the bottom, a snaky tendril shot up from the darkness, wrapping tightly around his leg.  Mandi could see the roper from where she was, and gathering all her will, she cast again.  This time, her spell completely immobilized the roper, and Sepoto dove for it.  Before it could break free from the wizard’s power, he summoned the might of Savras into his chain and drove it straight thru the beast.  Blood spewed from the exit wound, as well as several large gems, much to the goliath’s surprise.  The roper sagged, and then toppled, much like the dead tree it resembled.
_________________________________________________________

Hours later, the tunnel abruptly widened into a large cavern, nearly two-hundred feet in diameter.  A shimmering curtain of rippling blue light bisected it from left to right and floor to ceiling.  The light resembled a translucent membrane that swirled and sparkled like the surface of a pond.  The cave on the opposite side was visible through the sheen, and the tunnel proceeded around a corner at the far end.  Shapes and figures seemed to ripple and writhe along the curtain, and now and then they passed by slowly enough to be identified as Maztican warriors in full battle regalia, their mouths open in silent screams.  A low whispering filled the room, but the cave was otherwise silent.

“Do not fear,” Irgzid said reassuringly.  “My people do not understand this phenomenon.  We call it the Cerulean Curtain, but it has never harmed us.  We have always passed freely through it.  Watch.”
The troglodyte walked confidently towards the shimmering wall, and then passed through it slowly, as if he were moving through water.  Once on the far side, he waved back, seemingly unscathed.  
“I’ve never heard of magic like this before,” Mandi said.  “Perhaps it is the remnant of some ancient warding that is now merely this light show.  Come, and let us see.”
One by one, the company followed Irgzid, and as each of them passed through, the soft whispering rose sharply to an almost painful roar, as of a thousand people shouting as many different phrases, and then it abruptly fell quiet again as they emerged on the far side.  Sepoto and Daelric, however, were able to pick out individual phrases from the cacophony.  Sepoto distinctly heard the words, ‘Two faces watch the tide,’ while Daelric heard, ‘The Maw flows forth to bite.’  When they shared this with the others, Mandi looked pensive.
“Two faces,” Marius said, at length.  “Like the demon god we saw in the temple we saved Urol from.”
“Demogorgon,” Mandi said quietly, “whose home on the Abyss is known as Gaping Maw…”
_________________________________________________________

It wasn’t long after they’d passed through the Cerulean Curtain that the company came to the first major branch in the tunnel they’d seen since they’d set out on their descent.  There, Irgzid paused thoughtfully.  
“The route to where my people meet the Lords of Dread lies south,” he explained, “but you might be interested in what lies west.  When I was a child, I came with my tribesmen to barter at a village called Barbas.  Its inhabitants are half and mixed bred creatures…mongrels.  Since the Vile Rigidity came upon my people, the folk of Barbas have closed their borders, fearing pestilence.  Still, their village may be the only hope of shelter and relative safety you will find in the depths…”
“If it has been so long since you’ve visited,” Mandi observed, “they may not even be there any longer.  If they are, however, perhaps they will have further information about the Lords of Dread.  What say the rest of you?”
The others agreed, and the thought of hot food and perhaps a bed to sleep in was appealing to all.  At Mandi’s word, Irgzid turned west.

Soon, the tunnel they followed opened into a low ceiling cave that stretched away before them.  The terrain before them was scree and gravel, as well as large boulders.  Due to the density of these scattered monoliths, it was impossible to see more than thirty feet ahead.  Between the stones, patches of color hinted at plant life, suggesting a subterranean pasture of epic proportions.  The temperature in the vault was noticeably cooler than the outer tunnels.  Irgzid started into the maze, but Mandi immediately grabbed his arm.
“Fool,” she said.  “What kind of subterranean dweller are you?  Do you not recognize the mold on the rocks.”  She pointed out large patches of both yellow and brown growth on numerous boulders.  Irgzid’s eyes widened in fear.
“Yellow mold,” Mandi explained to her companions, “poisonous to inhale, while the brown feeds off of heat.  It is what makes the air in here so cool.  It looks like there may be a clear path though.  Follow me.”

The elf led them almost a quarter mile through the stone labyrinth, careful to avoid the deadly fungi.  When they emerged on the far side, the ceiling rose to twenty feet and the vast plain of moldy gravel parted, giving way to a large hemisphere of bare stone dotted with short pillars.  Ahead, makeshift walls of wood and stone surrounded a sprawling shantytown.  No sooner had the company exited the maze, however, than they saw a half-dozen large creatures gathered before the walls.  They looked like nine-foot tall bipedal insects with vulture-like heads and two powerful arms that ended in immense hooks.  When the beasts saw the group approaching, they immediately began howling, and clashing their arms together.  In a matter of moments, several humanoid figures appeared atop the wall.

“We come in peace!”  Mandi shouted, first in Common and then Maztican.  “We seek to parley with you!”
Silence greeted her for a moment, broken only by the cries of the hook horrors.  Then a single, strong voice called back.  “What is your business here, strangers?”
Before Mandi could answer, Daelric called out.  “We seek the Lords of Dread!”
Instantly, an angry murmur surged through the crowd on the wall.
“Then you’ve come to the wrong place!” the original speaker shouted.  “Leave now, and we will not molest you!  If you come any further, we will be forced defend ourselves!”
“Idiot!” Mandi snarled at the priest, and then she hurriedly raised her voice placatingly.  “You must excuse my naïve companion!  What he meant is that we are hunting the Lords of Dread in order to destroy them!  We seek information!”
Another pause from the wall, then, “That may be, but we don’t see many outsiders, and the ones we do don’t have our best interests at heart.  We think it’s best you be on your way.”
“Savages,” Mandi mumbled.  She bent her head in thought for a moment, then called one last time, “What offering could we make to convince you of our honorable intentions?”
A longer pause from the village followed this.  “What do you offer?”
“As I thought,” Mandi said softly to her comrades.  “Everyone has a price.”  Aloud, she answered, “We have sixteen pairs of dweomered bracers!  They will afford your warriors protection in battle!”  
Irgzid looked askance at the wizard, since the bracers she spoke of had been taken from the dead bodies of his kinsmen.  The villagers seemed more impressed.  “Agreed!” came the call.
____________________________________________________________

The town of Barbas squatted in a dead-end cavern, the ceiling of which rarely rose above thirty feet, and in many places dipped down as low as ten feet, creating a claustrophobic ghetto.  The town’s structures appeared makeshift at best and nearing collapse at worst, their walls built from rubble, moldy wood, caked mud, and bone.  A tepid pond shimmered in the center of town, fed by a trickle of water from the western cave wall.  A haze hung in the air, a mixture of smoke, spores, and stink lit by dozens of feebly burning torches mounted on stalactites or facades.  The only areas not claimed by crumbling buildings were the crooked streets and several farms of faintly glowing fungi and pallid mushrooms the size of men.  Though there were a few purebred lizardfolk and troglodytes among the populace, the vast majority of the people were humanoid in basic frame only, squat, pale and sporting a myriad of bizarre deformations.  

The residents peered nervously at the newcomers, awed and anxious where they crouched behind partially closed hovel doors.  As soon as the company had cleared the gates, a tall, albino male approached.  He was far less deformed than the other folk, to the extent that he looked almost human.  Still, his left cheek bore a swirling, puckered scar that pulled that side of his face into a permanent smirk, and shoulder-length hair did not quite hide the fact that he was completely missing his right ear.  The crowd grew quiet as he began to speak.
“Greetings, travelers.  My name is Vertram, and I am the headman here.  I apologize for the…inconveniences…you have faced with our guardians, but the tunnels in this region become more dangerous with each year.  Regardless, our city is open to you.  Please put away your weapons and be welcome in Barbas.”
Mandi made her own introductions in turn, and the Legionnaires obligingly stowed their arms.  Vertram then led the group through the narrow streets, pointing out various landmarks, and asking more questions as to the nature of their quest.  Mandi explained Farshore’s recent problems with the Kraken Society and their possession of the shadow pearls provided by the Lords of Dread.  Finally, Vertram brought them to the town hall, a two story tall structure significantly larger than the other buildings, though built of the same scraps and detritus.  Inside, the headman directed his guests to several rooms where they might rest later if they liked, and then he took them to a large chamber, which he explained was usually reserved for town meetings.  The group was seated around a large table, and food was provided in the form of mushrooms and tough, salty meat from a monstrous centipede.

Once the meal was finished, Vertram folded his hands on the table and leaned forward.  
“I fear for the safety of my people,” he began without preamble.  “For many generations, we have lived in relative peace with the troglodytes of the upper caverns.  Yet recently, one tribe in particular has become more aggressive and warlike.  I believe it is the tribe you encountered.  The maze and hook horrors have done well enough to keep them from directly assaulting us, but for the past several years it’s been much more dangerous than anyone can remember to travel the outer caverns.  I believe that change is coming to Barbas.  I have heard whispers in the air warning of dire events…of something stirring in the deeps below.  We have heard of monsters dwelling in the forbidden caverns deep below the earth.  Perhaps they are these Lords that you speak of.  In the whispers and in my dreams, I have seen images of men and women from the land of light who will come to Barbas to deliver us from these dark times.  I can tell you very little of those you seek, except to relate to you the legends handed down to us through the generations.”
“Our ancestors once lived on the surface, as you do, and they waged war with a great city of demon fish deep below.  Our people drew the war to a final end by casting down the tear of the god of rain and storms, where it burst in the depths and drove the waters of the flooded caverns away, and the spirits of the fallen ancients still guard this region.”
“The Cerulean Curtain,” Marius said.
Vertram nodded.  “The presence of our ancestors holds the waters at bay, and as long as they persist, the demon fish cannot return.  Yet I believe something else has filled the void left by the expulsion of the fish.  I fear that whatever has moved into the ruins of their city may be seeking their vile secrets, and if they discover them, they may become an even greater threat to the world.”
“These demon fish,” Mandi asked, “can you describe them?”
Vertram leaned forward further, smiling cryptically.  “I can do better than that.  Would you like to see one?”
“You know where one is?” Mandi asked incredulously.  “Alive?”
“I will leave that for you to decide,” Vertram answered, “and it will be a question that will have to wait until morning.  For now, rest and enjoy the hospitality of my people.”
___________________________________________________________

The following morning, with the company rested and refreshed, Vertram led them through the city once more, this time accompanied by several of his warriors.  As the group moved through the town, they noticed the residents were silently packing their few belongings, and noted many expressions of sadness and fear.
“What’s going on?”  Sepoto asked.  “Where are they going?”
Vertram smiled sadly.  “My visions have warned me that the doom that comes to Barbas cannot be diverted.  After I return from guiding you to the Cavern of the Sleeping God I intend to lead my people up to higher caves, or perhaps even to the surface.  Barbas’ time has come and gone.”
Mandi was pensive for several minutes as they walked, but when they reached the gates she turned to the headman, a dangerous sparkle in her eye.
“I have an idea.  I have told you of Farshore and its trials.  We could use people such as yours…survivors who are resourceful and self-sufficient.  I would encourage you to please consider leading your people south, along the shoreline to Tanaroa, and from there to Temute, where you will find Farshore.”
Vertram blinked, taken by surprise.  “Us?” he asked after a moment.  “You…want us to join your people?  You have seen my folk.  The surface dwellers would not find them…pleasing to look upon.”
Mandi laughed, and swept her arms to her comrades.  “Look at us!  And we’re heroes!  Oh, I’m sure there will be some dissenters, but I believe the vast majority will welcome you with open arms.  I will pen a personal letter of introduction to the Lady Mayor, Lavinia Vanderboren.  I guarantee you that you will find succor in Farshore.”
Vertram blinked several more times, his red eyes damp and rheumy.  “I will take your offer under close advisement,” he said when he had regained his composure.

The headman and his warriors led the company back through the maze, and from there down a narrow side passage they had missed when they had passed that way earlier.  After approximately a half mile, they came to another large cavern.  On the far side, the Cerulean Curtain extended all the way to the sixty-foot high ceiling.  Across its surface, ghostly Maztican warriors shimmered and flickered.  Just beyond it, the occasional bubble or flash of scales revealed the presence of thousands of gallons of water, their awesome weight held at bay by the shell of energy.  On the floor in the center of the cave was a strange looking mound of stone shaped like an enormous, petrified fish.
“Behold!” Vertram said with a flourish.  “The devil fish itself!  Come, gaze upon it!  Place your ear to its skin!  Learn from it what you can!”
Mandi and the others approached cautiously.  
“It’s an aboleth,” the wizard said as she gazed upon the behemoth.  “They are a race of very intelligent beings, but also very evil.  They are known to enslave others in order to build their hidden cities”
“It’s alive,” Daelric said, pressing his ear to the aboleth’s stony side.  “I can hear its heart beat.”
“It’s the Curtain,” Marius said.  “It’s holding back the water.  Without the water, the aboleth dried up.  It must be in some sort of suspended animation.”
“Then perhaps we can reach it,” Mandi said.  “I can use the same magic that allowed us to mentally communicate.”
Tower Cleaver scowled at this.
“Perhaps it can tell us more about the kopru,” Mandi continued, ignoring the minotaur’s wounded look.

Placing her hands upon the petrified aboleth, Mandi cast her spell.
‘Great one,’ she called, ‘we come beseeching your wisdom.  Can you hear me?’
In response, her mind was suddenly flooded with violent, savage images of madness.  No coherent thought came to her.
“It is in torment,” she said aloud.  “Perhaps its hibernating state has unbalanced it.  Perhaps moving it back into the water will restore it.”
“What?”  Samson barked.  “Are you mad?  You just said that these things were able to mentally enslave other creatures!  What’s to prevent it from doing that to us if you awaken it?”
Mandi shrugged.  “We’ll kill it if it tries.  Cleaver, do you think you can push it through the Curtain?”
The minotaur looked appraisingly at the aboleth, and then nodded.  He leaned down and grabbed the fish’s tail, then began dragging it towards the Cerulean Curtain.  When he reached it, he got behind the beast and shoved it through the barrier.  Several minutes ticked by, and in that period, the onlookers saw the stony shell of the aboleth begin to soften until it was the consistency of mud.  Soon after, it formed a layer of thick, slimy mucous, and the great creature flicked its tail, rising majestically into the water beyond the curtain, awake once more.
‘Great one,’ Mandi repeated.  ‘Do you understand me?’
‘Kill!  Destroy!  Enslave!’  The thoughts roared back at her with such savagery that the elf rocked back on her heels, grabbing her head in pain.  Abruptly, a dazzling curtain of hypnotic, rainbow colored light appeared in the air before the company.  Vertram and his guards stared raptly at it, their eyes going blank.
“Pretty,” Tower Cleaver said, dreamily.
“It’s no use,” Mandi said after she recovered herself.  “Its mind is gone.  It’s trying to attack us.  I have no choice.”  
She began casting, her incantation a sing-song of power.  When her spell was complete, a flash of magic flickered between her and the aboleth, piercing the Cerulean Curtain.  When the light vanished, the aboleth was gone.  In its place was a small goldfish.  Abruptly, there was a flash of motion in the water behind it as a large barracuda lunged out of the gloom, swallowing it whole.


----------



## JollyDoc

Sunday Night Teaser:
__________________

The invasion of Golismorga begins.  As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words...

I call this picture, the Legion vs the Horde...NUFF SAID!!!


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## Aholibamah

I'm still really enjoying this--I love the way the sense of the group is conveyed, as tough but competent mercenaries, and the way the magic is described, the npcs presented very well and the whole atmosphere of this adventure path so thoroughly explored.


----------



## JollyDoc

Aholibamah said:
			
		

> I'm still really enjoying this--I love the way the sense of the group is conveyed, as tough but competent mercenaries, and the way the magic is described, the npcs presented very well and the whole atmosphere of this adventure path so thoroughly explored.




Thanks!  The group really enjoys the AP, so that makes it easier to translate their experience into a narrative.  There was some really good interplay this past week between them and Irgzid's mysterious master.  Their ultimate decision on how to approach Golismorga was unexpected...as I've come to expect...and thus vastly more entertaining.


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## Supar

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Sunday Night Teaser:
> __________________
> 
> The invasion of Golismorga begins.  As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words...
> 
> I call this picture, the Legion vs the Horde...NUFF SAID!!!




Gotta hand it to our DM any lesser dm would have crashed or said no or tried to talk us out of this conflict or even offered an escape but not JD he took it and ran it


----------



## carborundum

It just gets better and better! I can't believe Mandi zapped the aboleth! Brilliant 
It's like following a great TV series, with teaser trailers à la Lost or 24.
I am quite bemused as to the Golismorga approach, but it looks spectacular to say the least! Roll on the next episode 

Plus, I'm looking forward to Meravanchi's reaction when the mongrelfolk turn up.


----------



## Schmoe

*Legion vs. the Horde*

Where's the popcorn?


----------



## Richard Rawen

*Great Stuff!*

I like the way you portray the group dynamics, there's edginess that is usually lacking from pnp that I've been in. 
I think I may encourage my players to whip up some evil characters, just to see if they cut loose a bit from their tried-and-trues.

Of course there was inter-party conflict a couple years ago, it resulted in the young lady getting huffy and forcing her boyfriend to quit with her.  Honestly I was sorry to see him go.     

Do you get any real-life conflicts emerging from group disagreements or is it pretty laid back at your table?


----------



## Joachim

Richard Rawen said:
			
		

> Do you get any real-life conflicts emerging from group disagreements or is it pretty laid back at your table?




Nah...not really.  We generally (note 'generally') don't do anything that specifically screw-jobs the other PC's.  Remember, too, that we are starting to get pretty docile in our old age (I think being beaten into submission by our wives has made us accustomed to this brand of passivity...It's like, "I don't care what you do.  Just don't make me go back home."    ).

Whenever you think about screwing over your fellow PC's, just remember the Golden Rule of D&D: "What goes around comes around."


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## carborundum

Roll up, roll up!
I'm really looking forward to this - more than, say, Harry Potter


----------



## JollyDoc

GOLISMORGA

The tunnel down which Irgzid had been leading them for over five hours suddenly changed from rough natural stone to an intricately carved corridor bearing glyphs and mosaics of Maztican design, just before it opened into an immense flooded chamber.  The walls of the square room rose up in steps, forming an inverted ziggurat with an apex forty feet above the dark waters that flooded the area to just below the edge of the entrance.  The floor was a ruin of smashed pillars and small islands constructed in the same roughly pyramidal fashion.  In the center, a line of destroyed columns and altars protruded a few feet above the surface, creating a makeshift bridge that dipped briefly into the water before reaching the continuing passage on the far side.

“We are here,” Irgzid said, opening his arms expansively.  “The Temple of the Ancient Ones.  This is where my people meet the Lords of Dread.  They come through the far entrance, and then one of them swims across to this landing.  When he emerges, he unfolds a black piece of cloth upon the ground, which then transforms into a deep hole.  From this he takes the shadow pearls, still cradled in their bilestone shells.  We exchange our slaves, which are placed into the hole in turn.  It is then folded back into its cloth form, and the transaction is complete.”
“That’s it?”  Sepoto asked.  “Where do the Lords of Dread return to?  Where is their sanctuary?”
“South, and down,” Irgzid replied as if this fact should have been obvious.  “I have never been beyond this room.”
Sepoto looked incredulous.  “Then you’re not much further use to us, are you?” he growled.
Irgzid’s eyes went wide but then he threw his arms open again, raised his head to the ceiling and began shouting, “I have brought the heroes you asked for, Father!  What do you wish of them?”
As the last of his words were still echoing from the cavern walls, a ghostly figured appeared across the water, standing atop another platform.  It seemed to be the apparition of a troglodyte, dressed in the fetishes of a shaman.  Irgzid bowed before the shade, his eyes wild with religious fervor.

“We are the souls of the tormented,” the figure said in the Draconic tongue of the troglodytes, which only Mandi, Sepoto and Samson comprehended.  “We seek release from our imprisonment, and thus we have summoned you here.  Only in the destruction of the so-called Lords of Dread may we find peace.  The evil ones have claimed the ancient city of Golismorga for their own.  There they hatch their sinister plan to remake the surface in their own image.  In order to end their threat, Golismorga must be reclaimed by the sea.  The Cerulean Curtain must be destroyed.”
Mandi and Sepoto glanced at one another skeptically.
“Why must the curtain be destroyed?”  Mandi asked.  “Why can we not just slay the Lords of Dread, and thus end their plans.”
“That would only provide a temporary solution,” the apparition explained.  “The source of their evil, the forge of the shadow pearls, would remain.  In time, more of their brethren would return and resume their endeavor.”
“What of the aboleth?”  Sepoto asked.  “If Golismorga is flooded, won’t all of the petrified devil fish be restored?”
“Possibly,” the figure replied, “but they are not the creators of the shadow pearls.  They are not the cause of your world’s problems.”

At that moment Mandi angrily spun on Irgzid, still speaking in the trog’s own language.  “Why did you bring us here?” she demanded.  “Why didn’t you tell us of this?  I warned you what would happen if you betrayed us!”
Irgzid merely shrugged.  “If I had told you, you might not have come,” he said simply.
Mandi snarled, gathering emerald energy around her hand.  Irgzid calmly stepped backwards off the platform, and vanished into the dark water below.  
“Does anyone care to explain just what in the Nine Hells is going on here?” Marius snapped.  “Who is that, and where did Irgzid go?”
Mandi quickly explained the situation to her colleagues in Common.  “I think we’re being duped,” she finished.  “This was all a set-up of some sort.”
“Then what can we do to convince you of the truth in our words,” the shade interrupted, also speaking Common.  Mandi’s eyes narrowed.  Shifting to the language of the Celestials, she whispered in Daelric’s ear, “I want you to See our host and tell me the truth of his nature.”
The priest nodded in understanding and began his prayer.  When he finished, his eyes glowed with golden light and he turned them upon the ghost.  Instantly, his eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline.
“What is it?”  Mandi asked.  “What do you see?”
“Look for yourself,” Daelric replied, then reached out to touch the elf, imbuing her with his Sight.

When Mandi looked at the apparition, she no longer saw a troglodyte.  Instead an aboleth lay where the trog shaman had stood, but due to the nature of the magic Daelric shared with her, she saw that even this was not entirely the truth.  The aboleth was but a figment, a projected image generated from somewhere else in the room, likely below the water.
“We dislike being pawns,” she said to the image before her.  “If you wanted something from us, you should have just asked.”
The image of the aboleth made a sound that could have been a sigh.  “If you are at all familiar with the nature of my race,” it replied, “then you know that is not our way.  Still, your point is taken.  Very well then, here is the truth of it.  I am N’glothnoru, and ages ago my people ruled this island, both above and below.  Then the humans came, staking claim to the surface as if they had the right.  We took steps to dissuade them of this notion, and thus war began.  Ultimately, the humans prevailed, summoning the power of their rain god, Tlaloc to drain our demesne of water, thus stranding us and imprisoning us in the Long Dreaming.  Long did our city, Golismorga, lay empty until the kopru, your Lords of Dread, discovered it.  Worse, they discovered Holashner’s ziggurat, and what lay within.”
“Who is Holashner?” Sepoto interrupted.
“The Hunger Below,” N’glothnoru answered, “one of the Elder Evils, beings that have existed since the beginning of the beginning, long before your so-called gods.  When Holashner travels along his endless path below the earth, He leaves in his wake bilestone.  We kept a repository of this substance in the ziggurat, and it is from this that the kopru have learned to make the objects you call shadow pearls.”
“What role does the Prince of Demons play in this?” Mandi asked.  “For we have seen his image and heard his name whispered throughout our quest.”
“The kopru revere him,” N’glothnoru replied, “and I believe it is their Abyssal master that has provided them with the knowledge to create the pearls.”
“The question still stands,” Sepoto asked, “why must we destroy the Cerulean Curtain, especially if it means your people will return?”
“Merely slaying the kopru is not enough, as I explained,” the aboleth said patiently.  “If Golismorga is flooded once again, their plans will be permanently thwarted.  True, my people will return, but we are an extremely long-lived race.  We might even be considered immortal to such as you, and thus we reckon time differently.  To us, millennia are like years.  Our plans unfold slowly, and while we may one day reclaim what was ours, that day will not come in your lifetime.  So you must concern yourselves with the threat that stands against you now, and know that if the kopru do return to Golismorga, we will be waiting.”

Mandi listened to the aboleth’s tale rather impatiently.  When it paused, she interjected, “Very well.  Tell us how to destroy the Curtain so that we may be on our way.”
“A wise decision,” N’glothnoru said.  “I can tell you only that the Curtain’s anchor lies within Golismorga, and it is tied directly to Tlaloc.  You will know it when you see it, and when you see it, you must unmake it.  Then the Curtain will fall.”
“Fine,” Mandi said dismissively.  “Then we’ll take our leave.  Tower Cleaver!”  When the big minotaur stepped forward, she quickly cast a spell of flight over him and had him ferry the group across the chamber.  N’glothnoru watched in silence as they departed his prison, harboring the beginnings of faint hope that he might soon be free.
_____________________________________________________

“Not blood likely!”  Mandi said as they continued along the down-sloping tunnel.  “The day I trust an aboleth is the day I take Cleaver for my apprentice!”
The minotaur furrowed his brow, trying to decide if he had just been complimented or insulted.
“We’ll go to Golismorga alright,” Mandi continued, “and once there, we’ll just see how capable the kopru will be to return there once we’re finished with them.”
_____________________________________________________

The passageway opened into a roughly circular cavern.  A ten-foot wide ledge ran across the northern and southern faces of the room, with a passage leading away from each.  Graceful arcs of natural stone bridged the two ledges in three places, although the westernmost one had collapsed in the center, leaving a five-foot gap.  Above, the ceiling rose up to a height of nearly forty feet, while below, the ground dropped away an equal distance into a rubble-strewn gulf.  What appeared to be six, immense, petrified fish lay on the floor of the crevice.  The sound of whispering welled up from below, and the ground looked almost like it was moving.  

“Bugs,” Mandi said in disgust.  “I hate bugs.  Especially when they come in swarms.  Cleaver, you will do transport again.”
“Go on ahead,” Sepoto said.  “I’ll catch up.”
“What do you mean?” Mandi asked.  
“I’m going to make sure as few aboleth are able to return as possible, in the event the Curtain should ever fall,” the crusader said grimly.  “I’m going to destroy the sleepers.”
Mandi shrugged.  “Suit yourself.”
“And watch your back,” Samson added.

As the others shuttled over the crevice, Sepoto, calling upon one of the many enchantments of his armor, flew straight down towards the nearest aboleth.  As he landed, he saw that the ‘moving ground’ was actually great swarms of chittering grubs, white spiders, whip scorpions, centipedes and other vermin.  They crawled over his boots in a layer several inches deep, but did not seem otherwise threatening.  He uncoiled his chain and was preparing to deliver the coup de grace to the first of the dreamers when he saw sudden movement from the corner of his eye.  Three large shadows had detached themselves from the deeper gloom under the stone bridges and where quickly scuttling down the walls towards him.  As they came into the circle of his light, he saw that they were spider-like creatures, but their front pair of legs bore flattened discs studded with dozens of hooked suckers.  Their heads were horrifically oversized, dominated by immense mandibles that chattered and clacked with obvious hunger.  Sepoto recognized them immediately.  They were rhagodessas, the same creatures that had killed Ferox so long ago aboard the Blue Nixie, only these were much larger, and if possible, more aggressive.  

As the terrible spiders scuttled towards him, the crusader whirled his chain in front of him like a scythe, slicing into each of them as they came within his reach.  Despite the terrible wounds he inflicted, they still lunged for him.  One of them buried its mandibles deep into his thigh, and then wrapped its palps about him, trying to draw him into its embrace.  Sepoto felt a surge of power through the black tooth that jutted over his lip, and he threw the creature off effortlessly.  As it crouched for another spring, the goliath sank the tip of his chain into its spine, pinning it to the ground where it curled into a dead husk.  As he struggled to free his weapon, however, he saw another of the creatures preparing to attack.  Just before it launched, however, it exploded into a cloud of ichor and legs as Tower Cleaver’s axe cleaved through it.  The big minotaur grinned at Sepoto’s surprised expression, but then his smile quickly vanished as the last rhagodessa bowled into him from behind, seizing him in its palps and then chomping down on his shoulder with its fangs.  The barbarian roared, baring his own fangs and hurled the spider from him, and then followed after it so that before it even struck the ground his axe had sliced it neatly in half.  Sepoto nodded in gratitude to his friend, and the pair then set about the grisly task of dispatching the aboleths.
________________________________________________________________

The Legionnaires found themselves on a high ledge overlooking an immense cavern, within which brooded a realm of gigantic polyps and intricate fungi so large and elaborate that they seemed almost to compliment the twisted towers and temples, the myriad constructions of an insane city.  Ruined citadels of cyclopean grandeur tangled amid spires that looked to have been grown rather than built…homes for beings with unspeakable forms.  Senseless bridges reached to suicide heights, dropping away into squamous slums and melted ghettoes.  Seemingly accidental avenues and inaccessible alleys formed an unfathomable maze, a labyrinth that stretched to the subterranean horizon.  Across it all bulged images of gnarled, tentacled things and red domes that glistened like unblinking, demoniac eyes.  The already stale air had grown foul and close in that place, as if the smell of rot was somehow trying to crowd out the final gasp of freshness reaching those forsaken depths.  
Bursting from the demented cityscape, three titanic columns of unearthly violet flame churned silently like the pillars of some gigantic temple, bathing the entire cavern in a nauseating violet light…a light that seemed somehow more horrible than the darkness that lurked at the edges of the nightmare grotto.

Mandi looked out across the alien landscape, her sharp eyes searching.  Within moments, she found what she was looking for.
“There,” she said.  “South of the nearest pillar of fire.”
“What?” Sepoto asked.  “I don’t see anything unusual…well, any more unusual I mean.”
“There’s a relatively normal looking structure about a half-mile from here.  A pyramid, if I’m not mistaken.  The aboleth mentioned a ziggurat.  I think that qualifies.  That should be our first destination.

The group made their way down to the city floor by way of various fly charms and then started their trek through the ruined, monstrous metropolis.  As they traveled, they witnessed ever more evidence of Golismorga’s oppidian dementia.  At one point a monstrous tongue, split into a triple fork, rolled from a structure’s fleshy abscess, licked the red domes upon its surface, and then recoiled.  Further along, a two-story tall lung heaved on the side of another building, gasping irregularly.  The walls of yet another gruesome edifice were alive with cilia that retracted at the company’s approach, eliciting a deep growl from the building itself.  Before long, they reached an immense area cleared of debris and dwellings.  In its center sprouted one of the violet pillars, its base fully one-hundred feet in diameter.  The air became noticeably cooler within the boundaries of the clearing, and no sooner had the six companions entered it than they felt a wave of sickening nausea overwhelm them.  Mandi, Sepoto and Tower Cleaver became violently ill, retching and heaving until the others pulled them back into the shadows of the surrounding ghetto.  

The company decided to give the pillar a wide berth after that, sticking to the gloom of the cityscape itself.  Soon, all of them could see the pyramid in the distance.  Amid ruined towers of melted stone and malls of quivering ooze, another wide area lay clear of rubble and less wholesome debris.  From these acres rose the stone ziggurat, looking decidedly out of place from the surrounding madness, its dimensions having the appearance of lucid design and bearing comforting right angles of masonry.  The sides of the pyramid were festooned with detailed carvings of reptilian and simian monsters wrapped and cradled in endless coils of tentacles.  Steep steps rose into the darkened, noxious cavern air to a simple platform at the ziggurat’s summit.  Not all seemed right, however, as several cracks marred the structure’s masonry, revealing sections of diseased purple flesh within.  In addition, two sides of the pyramid looked to be partially overgrown, covered in putrid swaths of pale green mold.  In places, great slicks of tacky, dried blood stained the sides as well.

As the party paused to take in the horrifying sight, sudden movement erupted in the shadows on all sides of them.  From alleys and side streets darted scores of troglodytes, all running away from them and towards the pyramid, shouting in alarm as they went.  Moments later, horns sounded from the pyramid itself and multiple shadows could be seen detaching themselves from its base.  These forms soon resolved into fully three dozen kopru, slithering purposefully towards them.  Above these flew eight much larger versions of the same.  They were huge, muscular behemoths, sprouting no wings, yet staying aloft under their own power.  Mandi, who upon hearing the horns had used her magic to transform herself into the shape of a barbed-skin devil and had imbued herself with the ability to see the unseen, also beheld ten more creatures behind the front ranks of kopru.  They had evil-looking, human heads perched atop black, serpentine bodies.  Nagas…and they were all invisible.
“Perhaps we should have listened to the aboleth,” she muttered.

Yet it was far too late for recriminations.  The horde was approaching fast, and there would be no escape.  Mandi rose into the air, set her sights on one of the dark nagas, and hurled a spear of green energy at it, hoping to disintegrate it where it crawled.  Incredibly, she missed.  She would have sworn she had aimed directly at the creature, yet her blast had struck more than a foot to its left.   Suddenly, she realized what had happened.  The creatures were magically displaced as well as invisible.  Angrily, she corrected her aim and fired again.  This time her ray struck true, and the naga instantly dissolved into a pile of dust.

Sepoto never hesitated.  Crying out to Savras, the crusader charged forward, twirling his chain before him.  In moments, the first rank of kopru found him among them like a dervish.  His weapon was like a thresher among wheat, and one of the aquatic monstrosities quickly fell before him.  

The shock troops should not have been the Legion’s primary concern, however.  Abruptly, the nine remaining nagas shimmered into view as their guttural voices rose up in vile incantations.  Three forked bolts of electricity sizzled through the air, boring through Tower Cleaver and continuing on into Marius, who stood behind the minotaur.  While the air still stank of ozone and burnt flesh, a tremendous barrage of arcane missiles pierced the darkness like fireflies.  Two dozen or more streaked unerringly towards the already reeling barbarian and the warmage, battering them like hammers from a score of smiths.  Before the fight had really begun, Marius found himself on the edge of consciousness, while the sturdier Cleaver still stood strong, though his body was wracked with searing pain.

“This is unwinable!”  Daelric’s disembodied voice cried.  From above him, Mandi hissed angrily, “Then you’d best do something to even the odds before they’re upon us!”
The young priest struggled to regain his composure, fumbling through his robes until his hand closed on the scroll tube he sought.  Hastily drawing the parchment out and unfurling it, he began reading the incantation scribed there.  The air before him began to waver and glow, slowly solidifying until, when the last word of the spell was spoken, a titanic creature, fully thirty-feet tall, stood before the oncoming horde.  It looked to be a giant humanoid, carved out of the bedrock of the earth itself…an elemental, pulled from its home dimension by Daelric’s summoning.  At a shouted command from the priest, the creature lurched into motion, batting at one of the approaching kopru behemoths as if it were a gnat buzzing about its head.  

Sepoto realized something immediately as he fought the kopru.  The creatures’ amphibious nature literally made them fish out of water upon land.  Though they moved unerringly towards him, and his companions behind, their pace was sluggish, hindered by bodies not made for solid ground.  Thus, as they passed and surrounded him, he struck almost at will, moving fluidly among them as they struggled to orient themselves before his onslaught.  Three more fell before him within seconds.  At that moment, the battlefield erupted in flames.  Four sequential explosions lifted enemies into the air across the expanse of the entire line, dropping broken forms back to the ground like cordwood.  Sepoto recognized Marius’ handiwork, and when the fire cleared, a dozen more kopru lay dead, and all of the nagas bore horrific burns.  The warmage knew his business.  About that there could be no doubt.  The crusader saw his chance and darted through the shell-shocked warriors, straight towards the nearest naga.  As he went, he summoned Savras’ power into his chain, and when he reached the serpent, he drove his holy weapon straight through its black heart, burning it to ash with the might of the All-Seeing.

Despite Daelric’s impressive deterrent, Mandi saw that the flying behemoths were still coming.  Landing, she quickly shifted her form again, this time into that of a towering glabrezu demon.  She sought to interpose herself between her companions and the death from above.  Yet as they began to descend, she saw that there were too many for her to occupy.  While she attracted the attention of fully half of them, her enhanced demonic physiology shrugging off their blows, two still made it to Tower Cleave, and one to Marius.  The minotaur whirled as they approached, but his wounds made him sluggish, and he could not avoid the whip-like barbed tales of the giants.  They struck him savagely, ripping his flesh, and the tail of one of the behemoths quickly twined about him, pinning his arms to his side as it pulled him into the kopru’s embrace, squeezing the life out of him.  When Marius was struck in turn, he fell as if pole-axed, collapsing to a boneless heap on the ground before the still invisible Daelric.  Acting quickly, the priest knelt beside him and was relieved to feel a thready pulse still beating.  Calling upon his most powerful healing charm, he laid his hands upon the mage, mending all his wounds and broken bones in one powerful surge of divine energy.  As Marius inhaled deeply and opened his eyes, Daelric whispered, “Stay down!”

Sepoto immediately knew that he had miscalculated.  By butchering the naga, he had revealed himself as the most immediate threat to its remaining brethren.  As one they focused their magic upon him, raining arcane bolts down upon him like a fiery deluge.  The goliath hissed at the pain, but did not cry out.  Instead, as the kopru moved to surround him again, he channeled his agony into rage, his chain scything out and bisecting four more of the vile aberrations.

“Daelric!”  Mandi cried.  “We’re getting out of here!  Call your elemental back to cover our escape!”
The priest nodded, and spoke a word of command.  Instantly, the elemental responded and came lumbering back towards its master.  As it approached, the behemoths struck at it, but their wicked tails did little more than scratch its rocky hide.  Raising one massive hand high above its head, it brought it down with enough force to rock the ground, smashing one of the giant kopru beneath it and leaving only a bloody pulp in the impact crater.  At that same moment, Mandi began her spell, reaching out to touch each of her companions, even Tower Cleaver, still trapped in the behemoth’s coils.  In an eye blink, they vanished, only to reappear on the far side of the battlefield, beyond the kopru and the nagas.  No sooner had they arrived than Marius leapt to his feet, calling his devastating magic to his hand once more.  Again, the field of battle was bathed in fire, this time leaving two of the nagas as smoking corpses, along with three more of the kopru.

The behemoths were large and powerful, but they were still kopru, which meant they were still possessed of a cunning intellect.  They saw Mandi’s ploy for what it was, and knew very well the source of their greatest threat.  They had no intention of wasting their resources on the elemental, for mighty though it was, it was also slow and they knew they could outdistance it easily.  The seven remaining rose into the air again and began moving back across the field, though one suffered another of the elementals crushing blows as it passed.

Though the kopru were not proving much of a challenge for Sepoto, they were effectively keeping him distracted from the far more dangerous nagas.  Once more they loosed their arcane missiles upon him, and for the first time, Sepoto began to doubt whether or not he would survive this battle.  Still, he had to clear a path between himself and the nagas, so on he fought, and three more of the kopru knew pain and death.  Behind him, the crusader could hear the thundering footsteps of the elemental as it pursued the behemoths, barreling straight into the throng of kopru, stomping one of them flat beneath its feet.  

As Daelric tended Tower Cleaver’s wounds, Marius set to work to make an opening for Sepoto to reach them.  Cupping both hands before him, he loosed a cone of white hot fire into the horde.  Another kopru immolated in agony, and two more of the nagas died as well.  What was more, by this time the behemoths had closed over half the distance to the group, and the warmage’s blast engulfed four of them, not slowing them, but giving them a healthy respect for the gnome…or labeling him an even bigger target.  Mandi, drawing on the same tactic as the mage, drew a staff from her back, held it like a spear and shouted a word of power.  From its tip flew a second cone, this one of ice and sleet.  To her amazement and relief, one of the behemoths succumbed to the blast.  Six still remained.  

That was the opening Sepoto needed.  Calling on Savras to deliver him, his body dissolved into smoke and shadow, only to coalesce again beside his companions.  Unfortunately, the behemoths were right behind.  The giants reached the companions and broke over them like a tsunami.  One slashed at Tower Cleaver, raking his face with its claws, while a second one whipped at the minotaur with its tail, seizing him in its grip once more.  As it tightened its coils, a third brute joined it, constricting the barbarian with bone-crushing force.  Sepoto had just gotten his bearings when a fourth behemoth struck him a terrible blow to the head.  The crusader’s vision exploded into stars, followed by blackness as he slumped to the ground.  

Daelric screamed at his enslaved elemental, calling it to him with all haste.  The titan waded through the kopru, seizing one of the nagas in its fist as it came and squeezing until its head exploded.  Another naga and three more kopru were crushed by its massive arms as they swung like tree trunks to clear the way before it.  Meanwhile, Daelric turned his attention to Sepoto.  The goliath still lived, and the priest summoned Shaundekal’s strength again, fully healing the crusader’s wounds.  While he worked, Marius and Mandi struggled to keep the behemoths off him.  A well-placed scorching ray of fire straight into the eye of one behemoth felled it in an instant, while Mandi blasted the four surrounding Cleaver, not caring that her icy bombardment struck the minotaur as well.  He was as good as dead anyway if she didn’t intervene.  One of the brutes holding the barbarian went down, as well as another of its nearby companions.  

No sooner had Sepoto opened his eyes again, than he willed himself into the shadows once more, reappearing behind the behemoth that felled him.  This time, it was the kopru that went down under the goliath’s blows, and there was no one around to bring it back from the brink of death.  

“Cover me!” shouted the still unseen Daelric as he darted out into the midst of the fray.  Marius stepped out from behind Mandi to do just that, but  the final pair of dark nagas immediately targeted the gnome, burning him with jets of flame, just as he’d done to their brethren.  Their attention was soon diverted, however, as Daelric’s elemental reached them, squelching one between its toes.  When Daelric reached Tower Cleaver, the priest reached out and touched the minotaur, a prayer on his lips.  Instantly, Cleaver was able to slip free of the squeezing coils of the behemoth, his movements completely unimpeded.  Bellowing his battle cry, the barbarian swung his mighty axe in a wide arc, slashing the two behemoths nearest him.  On the heels of his attack, another blast of ice from Mandi finished the brutes, as well as half a dozen more kopru.  Tower Cleaver was then free to focus on the last of the naga’s, and he gave the creature his full attention.  Soon, only one lone adversary remained in the bloody clearing.  A single kopru.  As it beheld its situation, it turned to flee back towards the ziggurat.  Its lifeless body reached the structure in record time as a back-handed swat from the elemental sent it airborne.


----------



## Hammerhead

Nice. The Legion sure knows it's business.

What level were you guys at this fight?


----------



## Joachim

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> What level were you guys at this fight?




I think that everyone was ECL 12 except for Sepoto and Daelric at 13.  Oh, and despite his presence in the text, Samson was not there.

We did the math shortly after the encounter, and that one rated between EL 17 and 18.


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## JollyDoc

Sunday Teaser
________________

1)  The Legion invades Holashner's ziggurat, and find it infested with more kopru behemoths.

2)  They fight their way through to the high priest of the temple, only to find he's more than prepared for them.  It turns into a two on three showdown as Mandi and Sepoto are separated from their companions.

3)  Unfortunately, the high priest turns out to be the cohort for the really big nasty waiting for them in the depths of the pyramid, and Marius, Daelric, Samson and Mandi literally get "flushed away!"


----------



## Leinart

Sepoto and mandi...I almost feel bad for the three.....


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## Schmoe

Joachim said:
			
		

> I think that everyone was ECL 12 except for Sepoto and Daelric at 13.  Oh, and despite his presence in the text, Samson was not there.
> 
> We did the math shortly after the encounter, and that one rated between EL 17 and 18.




Given the skill of the players at powergaming, I think that you should all be rated at least one ECL higher  

Well done, though.  You guys pulled through some seriously stacked odds without any deaths.  I think that's definitely one to remember.


----------



## Hammerhead

Out of curiosity, how was the adventure "supposed" to go down?


----------



## Aholibamah

Holy COW...what an epic fight! Even for this thread! This team btw is a bunch of serious fighters--they roleplay like the tough team they are consistently, they own the night and take no names. 

Also I have to say that when/if I run this path I will definitely pay some homage to your style in running it, you keep the pace up but make the descriptions vivid and in this case very disturbing.


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## Zaruthustran

Holy cow. I was inspired by you guys and am running my players through this AP (they just finished with the Hydra), but man--no way would they survive the fight you just described. One reason being: they have no dedicated Cleric, only a Dragon Shaman and a scroll-burning Warlock. And their Sorcerer doesn't have access to Fly or Improved Invisibility. 

Seriously, what do you guys think of their chances? The party consists of:

Xeph Swordsage/Ninja (stealth/sneak attack/melee)
Human Fighter/Warblade (melee)
Human Ranger/Dragon Shaman (tank/melee)
Shoal Halfling Sorcerer (AoE)
Human Warlock (Ranged/Misc.)

Any tips?


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## Ika_Greybeard

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Out of curiosity, how was the adventure "supposed" to go down?




From what Jollydoc told us we where supposed to cause a Diversion(destroying the Cirilean Curtain) and sneak in avoiding all the ones around the Ziggurat. We ignored this advice and went straight to the Ziggurat


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## Aholibamah

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Holy cow. I was inspired by you guys and am running my players through this AP (they just finished with the Hydra), but man--no way would they survive the fight you just described. One reason being: they have no dedicated Cleric, only a Dragon Shaman and a scroll-burning Warlock. And their Sorcerer doesn't have access to Fly or Improved Invisibility.
> 
> Seriously, what do you guys think of their chances? The party consists of:
> 
> Xeph Swordsage/Ninja (stealth/sneak attack/melee)
> Human Fighter/Warblade (melee)
> Human Ranger/Dragon Shaman (tank/melee)
> Shoal Halfling Sorcerer (AoE)
> Human Warlock (Ranged/Misc.)
> 
> Any tips?




They'll have to use more stealth I'd imagine--they also might need some allies. My pcs are very good at gathering allies and between the ranger and the cleric might gain some good hit point shields.


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## carborundum

I remember reading the adventure and getting to the bit where there were a few dozen (DOZEN) kopru, ten or so Dark Nagas and a LOT of behemoths and thinking "Good God! That's impossible at 12th or so level!" Proved wrong by you guys.

James Jacobs said in a thread on the Paizo boards about how a lot of encounters were made for cumulative attempts so - wow - kudos, guys!

Can't wait for the next story now! I only got five hours sleep on Sunday cos I woke up and went to get a drink of water, thought I'd check my mail, spotted the update ... printed it out, read it, read it again, made some tea and, well, never went back to bed!

You're destroying my health, man! And like all the best addictions, I love it.


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## JollyDoc

Wow guys!  Thanks!  I appreciate all the feedback and the kudos, but as I've always said, I'm just the narrator.  I just call'em as they happen.  It's the players who make things happen.  I just breathe some life into it afterwards.  This has always been the thing I enjoy about gaming with these guys.  They never fail to surprise me.  Just when I think they're going to go along with the script, they totally blindside me, forcing me to think on the fly, which is great!  I think if you asked all of my players, they'd say last week's battle was an adrenaline rush and the most fun we've had in awhile, and alot of that is because the outcome was never a forgone conclusion.  There were several upset spouses on Monday morning because our usual stop time is around 10 pm.  Well, that battle started at 9pm.  When ten came and went, I offered on several occasions to stop play, leave the board set up and just resume it this past Sunday, but everyone said no.  They wanted to play it out.  Consequently, we didn't finish up till around midnight, and alot of these guys have to get up around 5 am.  That's dedication!  As I've read through what's to come in the AP, I can only imagine what my guys are going to do to the script as written.  It should be a blast!


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## Zaruthustran

Really, JD, the descriptions of the city were killer. I copied-and-pasted into a word doc so I can bust them out when my players eventually reach this point in the Path.


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## Richard Rawen

Joachim said:
			
		

> . . .  (I think being beaten into submission by our wives has made us accustomed to this brand of passivity...It's like, "I don't care what you do.  Just don't make me go back home."    ).
> 
> Whenever you think about screwing over your fellow PC's, just remember the Golden Rule of D&D: "What goes around comes around."




That's hilarious, all but one of my gamers are young, except _my_ Wife, and she's about as dedicated as any I've met, so that's all good. Yet I've lost one twenty yr old gamer (and his fiance) due to long sessions and another young fella has had to scoot early twice now so . . . I don't think age is near the factor as the attachment to the fairer sex... unless you're lucky like me and have a hard-core gamer Wife 

Oh, and as to the last post, that was fantastic... loved the teamwork and the exchange between Daelric and Mandi seemed to set the tone, all or nothin... crazy, but a helluva fun read!


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## gfunk

Updated Table of Contents . . .

Great job against the Horde but can't say I am very surprised at the outcome.  Our group is very, very good at teamwork, battlefield control, and prioritizing target selection.  Excellent update.


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## JollyDoc

I regret to inform you all that I am currently experiencing both computer and internet problems (typing this from work), and thus cannot guarantee an on-time post this weekend.  Hopefully the gods of technology will smile upon me.


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## carborundum

I'll sacrifice my cats for you. 
Well, I say sacrifice, I'll let them wait an extra half hour for breakfast on Sunday morning. Maybe. Unless they go and open the curtains on me again. Sneaky buggers. 

Good luck with the technoprobs!


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> I'll sacrifice my cats for you.
> Well, I say sacrifice, I'll let them wait an extra half hour for breakfast on Sunday morning. Maybe. Unless they go and open the curtains on me again. Sneaky buggers.
> 
> Good luck with the technoprobs!





You can sacrifice mine as well.  He's 17, has one eye, one remaining tooth, and is diabetic.  I'm fairly certain he died five years ago, but don't tell him that.  Our group has commented that he bears a strong resemblance to the spell-stitched cat in Complete Arcane.


"Ordinarily your a$$ would be dead as fried chicken, but you've caught me in a transitional period."


----------



## JollyDoc

The techno gods have indeed smiled!!  Shaundekal has blessed me with freedom of movement through cyberspace once more!!!



THE HUNGER BELOW

Across the bloody battlefield the Legionnaires flew towards the looming monolith that was the ziggurat of Holashner.  No sign of life stirred as they passed over the carnage, and when they finally reached the pyramid, they could see no obvious means of ingress.  It appeared as if the horde that attacked them had been encamped around the base of the structure.  Slowly, they rose into the air, making orbits around the huge building as they ascended cautiously towards the top.  They had just reached the small platform atop the ziggurat, when they saw that not all of their enemies had been destroyed.  A welcoming party of five more behemoth kopru crouched atop the platform, and as the companions cleared the lip, the creatures sprang.  

As the kopru took flight, Mandi quickly wove a spell in the air around them.  A fog cloud abruptly appeared, engulfing three of them.  As it did so, it solidified until it had the consistency of tar.  The flying behemoths within were effectively immobilized, using all of their efforts just to move a few feet.  Marius, in an almost choreographed synchronicity with Mandi, leveled a devastating fireball blast across the pyramid’s apex, the flames washing over all of the kopru, but devastatingly so over those the wizardess had entrapped.

The two guardians that were still free quickly skirted the edges of the quicksand-like fog as their companions struggled mightily to extricate themselves.  As the nearest one rounded the cloud, Sepoto streaked ahead to meet it, slashing at it with his chain as he went.  The second behemoth found itself face-to-face with Tower Cleaver when it cleared the fog bank, and the big minotaur made it regret its hasty charge, chopping down on its tail as it skidded to a halt in mid-air.  

No sooner had the first of the trapped kopru exited the fog, than Marius sent a bolt of electricity lancing towards it, striking it full in the chest before the blast then arced to its nearby brother, who was still engaged with Sepoto.  As the behemoth writhed in agony from the lightning blast, the goliath saw his opening, finishing the brute by driving the tip of his chain up through its jaw.  When another of the creatures slammed into him from behind, Sepoto whirled, beheading it in one fluid motion.  Meanwhile, its kinsman hammered at Tower Cleaver, trying to coil its hooked tail around the minotaur, but thanks to Daelric’s magic, the barbarian was ensorcelled in such a way that he could free himself from any such restriction of movement.  As the kopru’s eyes widened when Cleaver slipped easily free of its clutches, the minotaur buried his axe between them, cleaving its head in two.

Marius was starting to get concerned.  One of the kopru had broken free of the pack and was heading straight for him.  The warmage uttered a quick spell, immolating himself in a burst of flame, but scorching the behemoth as well.  Next, the gnome hurled a ray of sizzling fire at the thing, yet it would not slow.  Just as it reached for him, its horrid jaws opening wide, a huge, red pincer descended out of nowhere, neatly snipping the kopru’s head from its body.  Marius looked up, and saw the hulking, glabrezu form of Mandi hovering behind him.  Before he could thank her, however, she streaked across the platform to where Cleaver was battling the last behemoth, and even as the minotaur raised his axe to deliver a killing blow, the wizard darted forward and disemboweled the creature with her smaller, though no less deadly, second pair of hands.  
____________________________________________________________

Once the entire group had alighted atop the ziggurat, they saw no obvious entrance into the building.  Instead, a domelike bulge of constricted, bruise-colored muscle sat in the center of the platform.  As Mandi bent to examine the tumor, she saw four deep, circular fissures that broke the surface of the flesh around the barrier.  Upon further investigation, she found that these sickening, wound-like rents protected muscled pads beneath.  
“I think I know how to open it,” she said as she straightened.  “I think its based on muscular reflex.  If all four of these pads are struck simultaneously, I believe we’ll have our answer.”
The others looked at her skeptically, but Cleaver, Samson and Sepoto each stood above one of the wounds, with Mandi on the fourth.  At her word, each of them plunged their hands into the purulent fluid that exuded from the sores.  As they did so, the tumor suddenly snapped open, revealing a dark shaft beneath.

Sepoto was the first to descend, ignoring the strange, curve-rung ladder that adhered to one side of the shaft.  Instead, he flew slowly down and before long found himself in a odd chamber that could only be described as ‘alive.’  The bruised, purple walls pulsed and quivered, heaving irregularly like the breath of a dying thing.  Growths jutted from them…exposed, fleshy things like black lungs, giant many-chambered and inside-out hearts, rolling milky white eyes, and other organs with no humanoid analog.  Unfinished stonework covered patches of the floor, as if some optimistic architect hoped to merely brick over the room’s obscene nature.  A second open chute with another strange ladder opened through part of the masonry floor, twenty feet below, descending deeper into the structure’s depths.  

No sooner had the goliath taken in the details of the nightmare chamber, than he saw movement on either side of him.  Two more behemoths emerged, flying from the shadows as if they’d been expecting him.  One of them raked the side of his face with its webbed claws, but the crusader’s surprise was fleeting.  His martial instincts quickly took over, and he whirled in mid-air, slashing lightning fast at the nearest brute.  Suddenly, Samson and Mandi were beside him, the latter having assumed the shape of a barb-skinned devil again to allow her to navigate the narrow shaft.  The wizardess quickly worded a spell, instantly striking the same behemoth Sepoto had been beating upon rigid as stone.  Samson raised his morningstar to finish the brute, but at that moment, a glazed look came over his eyes.
‘Hear me,’ an alien voice spoke into his mind, and he instinctively knew it came from the paralyzed kopru.  He struggled to ignore it, not hear its words, but he was powerless against its persistence.  
‘You must descend to the shaft below,’ the behemoth instructed.  ‘Scout the way for your companions.  You must insure their safety.  Go now!’
Lowering his weapon, the goblin began to descend.  Sepoto saw him leaving and sensed immediately that something was amiss.  Turning his attention from the second behemoth, the crusader snapped his chain directly in front of Samson, causing the dragon shaman to stand still in midair.  Puzzled, Samson looked at his friend, then shrugged and spoke a command word.  The boots on his feet flared with blue light, and a moment later, the goblin was on the floor of the room, magically transported through space.
“Don’t worry.  I’ll handle this!” Mandi snarled.  Taking her time, savoring the moment, she placed her hands on either side of the immobilized kopru’s head.  Then, with a savage twist, she snapped its neck.  Below, Samson blinked, confused, the spell broken.  Sepoto nodded his approval, then turned to finish off his own opponent.
______________________________________________________________

The shaft  leading from the chamber, through which Samson had almost descended alone, ended in water fifteen feet below floor level.  
“Whatever’s beneath here, it’s flooded,” Sepoto said.
“Not a problem,” Mandi replied, weaving a spell of blue light which descended over the company.  As the light faded, three pairs of delicate gills appeared on the neck of each of the companions except Samson.  The dragon shaman needed no such dweomer, as his draconic heritage gifted him with the ability to breathe water innately.  Once more, Sepoto was the first to descend, and as he disappeared below the surface of the water, he found himself in a chamber even more bizarre than the one he’d just left.

The ziggurat’s organs in the room continued to twitch, roil and watch.  The half-laid stonework glistened beneath the still water.  To the east loomed a huge bust of a demonic countenance with twin baboon-like heads set in a fearsome double roar sprouting from its over-muscled chest.  Across the floor lay hunks of shattered black resin and, near the statue, a black tumor grew from the fleshy stone, its size and shape reminiscent of some grotesque divan.  Though he should not have been surprised this time, the crusader was still caught unaware as two more behemoths rushed at him, swimming at ceiling level as he was.  Below them, near the statue of the Prince of Demons, was a third kopru, this one of normal proportions, yet clad in a chain shirt and armed with a wicked looking spear.  As Sepoto struck out at one of the approaching behemoths, the kopru at floor level began chanting in some burbling tongue.  In a flash, the hole through which Sepoto had descended vanished, replaced by a solid plug of stone.  The goliath was on his own.

Back in the chamber above, Mandi saw the magical wall appear and cursed.  
“Looks like we’ve found someone in charge,” she growled.  “Perhaps its finally the ‘Lord of Dread.’  Follow me if you can.”  She then spoke a command word, and just like Samson had done moments earlier, she vanished from sight in a flash of light from her silken footwear.  She reappeared an instant later in the lower room beside Sepoto.  Immediately, she assessed the situation, seeing the goliath locked in battle with the two behemoths, and determined that their greatest threat lay in the mail-clad kopru below.  Gathering her magic to her, she hurled its power at the creature, willing the creature into the form of a turtle.  She was therefore taken aback when the priest raised his spear and easily deflected the spell.  Cursing roundly, the wizardess cast again, this time focusing it into a thin, emerald ray, which struck the kopru dead-on.  His head flew back and he howled in pain as pieces of his body simply evaporated, but when the spell ended, he was still mostly whole, and completely enraged.

Ulioth had prepared for the coming of the surface dwellers, had in fact been watching their exploits against his lesser minions with great interest.  He had anticipated their arrival by flooding the temple and girding himself with his most powerful defensive wards.  Yet here were two of them, threatening him and giving him the barest moment’s pause.  He snarled to himself.  Hesitation was for weaklings.  His patron would never allow such among his followers.  Steeling his resolve, the kopru priest countered his enemy as effectively as he could…by targeting a spell of silence on one of the behemoths, and then commanding it to stay near the female.  That should give her something to think about.  He’d also taken note of her little parlor tricks of appearing and disappearing at will.  He remedied that problem as well, but bathing her in a green luminescence that emanated from his finger tip.

‘A dimensional lock!’ Mandi gasped.  The kopru was a wily one, obviously familiar with their tactics.  She was still pondering her next move when the stone plug above her suddenly shattered into rubble.  Looking up she saw Cleaver’s massive head protruding from the hole, fury in his eyes.  At that moment, the nearest behemoth lunged at her, seeking to wrap her up in its barbed tail.  The sorceress, still in her diabolic form, struck at the brute as it came, landing a lucky blow to its windpipe, and shattering it.  The brute floated lifeless to the ceiling, but then its brother sprang, snapping its tail around Mandi, squeezing her in its coils.  She struggled in vain to free herself, unable to call upon her magic, and unable to transport herself to safety.  Worry and doubt began to creep into her mind, but they vanished a moment later when Tower Cleaver reached one massive hand through the hole and grabbed the behemoth’s head.  The minotaur then yanked the beast into the shaft until its shoulders wedged tightly against the rim.  There was a violent thrashing followed by a torrent of blood in the water, and then Mandi felt the behemoth’s hold on her ease as its headless corpse dropped towards the floor.  

Ulioth knew he had to flee.  He had to escape to Holashner’s Honor and protect the guardian.  Desperate, he threw himself towards the closed sphincter leading to the lowest chamber, but before he could reach it, the goliath cut him off.  As the priest recoiled, Mandi finally found the edge of the magical Silence and shouted out a command for the staff she gripped in her hands.  The last thing Ulioth knew was bone-numbing, soul-killing cold.
____________________________________________________________

Though the kopru priest had obviously been in command of the ziggurat’s forces, a search of the temple chamber revealed nothing that might be construed as a source for the bilestone.  Guessing that his retreat might be to that locale, the group gathered around the closed sphincter in the floor.  This one also had four muscular pads, much like the one atop the pyramid, and once more Sepoto, Mandi, Samson and Tower Cleaver each pushed one of them simultaneously.  Almost immediately, Sepoto realized their mistake.  As the sphincter snapped open, there was a tremendous suction as the water in their room was pulled through.  The room below was apparently not flooded.  One by one, the Legionnaires were sucked down the drain, with the exception of Sepoto and Tower Cleaver who, by virtue of their great strength, managed to withstand the undertow.  

Though Samson, Daelric, Marius and Mandi found themselves in free fall in the room beyond, the flight dweomers that surrounded them arrested their descent some ten feet below the opening.  The sticky heat and pulsing walls of the cloying chamber augmented perfectly the revolting stink of bile mixed with crude oil.  Four pools of putrid black muck bubbled and spurted in the floor, their edges determined by either rigid stone blocks or dimples in the fleshy ground.  Four pillars separated the pools and held the sagging flesh of the ceiling aloft.  Within the basins of roiling, foulness floated pristine black orbs, each the size of a man’s head and shimmering with an unsettling inner light.

Marius had been the last of the quartet pulled through the sphincter, and so it was he that was abruptly hammered by a blow that felt as if it came from a battering ram.  Seconds later, pressure squeezed his chest, forcing the air out of his lungs and the gnome realized that he was caught in the grip of a behemoth.  A second one hovered in the air below the hole and just above his companions.  Mandi looked up at Marius’ strangled cry.  Thinking quickly, she cast her magic back through the shaft, yanking Sepoto and Cleaver through the ether and causing them to appear on either side of the behemoths.  With the same spell, she ripped Marius from the kopru’s clutches and hurled him back up the shaft.  

Suddenly, a horrifying roar split the air of the chamber.  Emerging from one of the pits below was a creature straight out of nightmare.  Many-jointed legs and squirming tentacles cloaked the horror in a haze of repulsive motion.  A thing half-centipede and half squid, with a single alien black eye staring fathomlessly from an octopoid head.  Curled upon itself like a titanic shrimp, the beast glistened like a scarab’s shell even as it bathed itself in an endless flow of oily, black drool.  As it rose from the pool, it cloaked itself in darkness, plunging the room into impenetrable blackness.  This inky shadow shattered briefly a moment later as a jet of black liquid sprayed from the monster’s mouth and caught fire as it touched the air.  The flames engulfed Tower Cleaver, setting him ablaze like a living torch.  The minotaur howled, maddened by the pain.  Striking about him by pure instinct, he stove in the skull of the nearest behemoth, then disemboweled the other as his axe whirled about like the Reaper’s scythe.  

Suddenly, just as quickly as it had appeared, the darkness vanished, banished by the sudden blast of daylight from Daelric’s upstretched hand.  With the beast below revealed again, Mandi struck with her staff, blasting the thing with ice.  Roaring again, the leviathan plunged back beneath the black surface of its pool.  Quickly, Samson made his way to the floor, Sepoto close behind.  Above them, Tower Cleaver beat wildly at his still smoldering hide, struggling to douse the flames.  Tentatively, Samson reached out to touch the surface of the liquid.  It was cool, like water.
“Nothing,” he said, turning his head towards his companions.  The surface of the pool suddenly exploded behind him as the bile wretch breached.  The dragon shaman looked up, horror stricken as it reared above him.  A nest of tentacles hammered at him, battering him to the floor while at the same time attempting to seize him in their grip.  Samson silently thanked Daelric for his foresight in imbuing him with the ability to move freely through such attacks.  Though bloodied, Samson was far from beaten.  Rolling to his feet, he slammed his weapon into the creature’s chitonous hide, and black blood wept like a fountain from the wound.  Scathing cold air blasted by him as Mandi leveled her staff a second time.  Simultaneously, Sepoto struck, sinking his chain deep into the beast’s soft underbelly.  A howl of fury from above the combatants caused them all to glance up, just in time to see a thousand pounds of minotaur hurtling down, bloodlust in his eyes.  Tower Cleaver landed axe first atop the bile wretch, his momentum carrying the blade all the way through the thing’s body.  The two halves fell to either side, like monoliths tumbling to earth.
_____________________________________________________________


“This is the substance the aboleth spoke of,” Mandi said as she examined the bile pools.  In my research, I have heard of beasts such as this.  Legend has it that Holashner itself created them to perpetuate the transformation of Black Bile of the World to bilestone and back again.  Some property of it must imbue the shadow pearls with their vile power, but I’m unsure how.”  
The group had recovered eight bilestone casings from the pits, within which were the unfinished shadow pearls.  They intended to return them to Farshore for further study.
“In any event,” Mandi continued, “the bile here should solidify and become inert with a day, now that the bile wretch has been destroyed.  We have accomplished what we came for.  It is time to leave this abominable place.”
“What about the Cerulean Curtain?”  Marius asked.
“It stays intact,” Mandi shrugged.  “Let the aboleths continue to rot in their endless sleep.”
With that, the sorceress gathered her companions around her, spoke a word, and vanished in a flash of light.

In Gaping Maw, a demon lord chuckled…


----------



## JollyDoc

Just browsing pictures, and thought I'd share one with you all of Gfunk and Joachim at Gen Con last year.  Gfunk is on right and Joachim on left.  Tower Cleaver is in the middle....

Please note the book that cheating bastard Joachim has clutched in his hot little hand...


----------



## Joachim

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Just browsing pictures, and thought I'd share one with you all of Gfunk and Joachim at Gen Con last year.  Gfunk is on right and Joachim on left.  Tower Cleaver is in the middle....
> 
> Please note the book that cheating bastard Joachim has clutched in his hot little hand...




Point of order:  That is the Savage Tides Player's Guide...and I am a player...ergo I am not a cheating bastard.

Well...at least not because of _that_ book.


----------



## carborundum

Sweet! You made it! Not only that, but early too. My cats will be very relieved! I've pasted it into notepad and printed it out - I'm going to save it for Sunday morning coffee. Thanks mate! Can't wait


----------



## Joachim

Mandi levelled to 13th, and thus on to 7th level spells!

*Ozymandia 'Mandi' Enoreth (CR 13)*
Female gold elf Wizard 3 / Master Specialist (Transmutation) 10
LE Medium outsider (native)
*Init +7*; *Senses* low-light vision; darkvision 60 feet; Listen -1, Spot -1
*Languages* Common, Elven, Abyssal, Infernal, Celestial, Draconic, Maztican
----------------------------------
*AC* 19, touch 15, flat-footed 14
(+5 Dex, +4 armor)
*hp* 99 (13 HD)
*Fort* +12, *Ref* +12, *Will* +15; +2 racial bonus against Enchantment effects
----------------------------------
*Speed* 30 ft. (6 squares), Swim 15 ft. (3 squares)
*Space* 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. 
*Base Atk* +6; Grp +5
*Combat Gear* staff of frost (12 charges), wand of enlarged _fireball_ (28 charges), wand of _detect secret doors_ (28 charges), wand of _comprehend languages_ (50 charges), 12 potions of _cure light wounds_, 4 potions of _cure moderate wounds_, scroll of _haste_, 5 scrolls of _benign transposition_, 6 scrolls of _knock_, scroll of _shrink item_, scroll of _teleport_ 

*Wizard Spells Prepared* (CL 14th, 17th for Transmutation, 16th for spells from the Teleportation subschool), +2 to all caster level checks to break SR, can take 10 on all caster level checks:
     7th - _final rebuke_ (DC 25), _glass strike_ (DC 27), _limited wish_ (DC 25)
     6th - _disintegrate_ (x3)(DC 26)(+11 ranged touch), _Rary's arcane conversion_ 
     5th - _baleful polymorph_ (x2)(DC 25), _hold monster_ (x2)(DC 23), _wall of force_
     4th - _assay spell resistance_ (x2), _celerity_ (x2), _polymorph_ (x2), _solid fog_ (plus Pearl of Power, 4th level)
     3rd - _dimension step_ (x2), _fly_, _greater mage armor_, _slow_ (x2)(DC 23), _water breathing_ (plus Pearl of Power, 3rd level)
     2nd - _alter self_ (x2), _glitterdust_ (x2)(DC 20), _heroics_, _rope trick_, _see invisibility_ (plus Pearl of Power, 2nd level)
     1st - _benign transposition_, _grease_ (DC 19), _nerveskitter_ (x2), _ray of clumsiness_ (x2)(+11 ranged touch), _shield_
     0 - _detect magic_ (x4), _message_

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

*Abilities* Str 8, Dex 20, Con 20, Int 27, Wis 14, Cha 8

*SQ* Immunity to _sleep_ effects, able to notice secret or concealed doors, prohibited from using spells from the schools necromancy and illusion, no familiar, immediate magic option (PHB II) _sudden shift_ 8/day, minor school esoterica (transmutation), moderate school esoterica (transmutation), major school esoterica (transmutation) 3/day, caster level increase +2 (transmutation), outsider traits 

*Feats* Arcane Mastery, Collegiate Wizard, Craft Wondrous Item, Greater Spell Focus (Transmutation)(B), Minor Shapeshift, Otherwordly, Scribe Scroll (B), Skill Focus (Spellcraft)(B), Spell Focus (Transmutation)
*Flaw* Innattentive
*Trait* Absent-Minded
*Team Feats* Spell Barrage

*Skills* Concentration +26, Diplomacy +1, Knowledge (arcana) +27, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +25, Knowledge (nature) +25, Knowledge (the planes) +25, Knowledge (geography) +25, Knowledge (religion) +15, Search +10, Spellcraft +29, Survival +4

*Possessions* combat gear plus _Ring of Enduring Arcana_, _Tunic of Steady Spellcasting augmented with +3 resistance bonus to saves and +6 enhancement bonus to Con_, _Third Eye (Penetrate) augmented with +6 enhancement bonus to Int_, _Amulet of Arcane Freedom_, _Boots of Big Stepping augmented with +6 enhancement bonus to Dex_, _Robe of Arcane Might (Transmutation)_, _Belt of Battle_, _Mage's Circlet_, _Ring of Arcane Might_, _Heward's Handy Haversack_, _Greater Crystal of Aquatic Action_ (continually attached to robe), _Pearl of Power_ (2nd level), _Pearl of Power_ (3rd level), _Pearl of Power_ (4th level), 1000 gp focus for _greater anticipate teleportation_ 

*Spellbook* spells prepared, plus 0 - all (minus illusion and necromancy); 1st - _benign transposition, expeditious retreat, feather fall, grease, identify, lesser orb of acid, lesser orb of cold, lesser orb of fire, lesser orb of sound, mage armor, mount, true strike_; 2nd - _bear's endurance, cat's grace, fox's cunning, knock, resist energy, scorching ray, wraithstrike_; 3rd - _dispel magic, fireball, haste, sound lance_; 4th - _blast of flame, dimension door, evard's black tentacles, flame whips, orb of force, Rary's mnemomic enhancer, solid fog_; 5th - _cone of cold, greater blink, Rary's telepathic bond, telekinesis, teleport_; 6th - _antimagic field, greater anticipate teleportation, greater dispel magic, control water, true seeing, wall of iron_; 7th - _greater teleport_ 

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

*Hook* "(Sighing) Please do not test my patience...I have very little, and you wouldn't like spending the rest of your existence as a toad."


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER
_____________________

1)  The group returns to Farshore to find Jakara waiting with a tale to tell of demons and artifacts.

2)  Acting on this information, the company sets out for the Isle's mysterious central plateau.  First stop, the lost village of Mantru, which is strangely deserted except for a pair of couatls.  These divine beings take issue with Mandi's wardrobe selection and hilarity ensues!!

3)  After being banished from Mantru, the party sets up camp in preparation for journeying to Taboo Island.  During the night, they are paid a visit by the long lost missionary, Noltus Innersol, along with his faithful dog and six converts.  Yet all is not as it seems with the priest.  In a throwdown for the ages, one Legionnaire dies and one is left a drooling idiot!   An update not to be missed!


----------



## Schmoe

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 3)  After being banished from Mantru, the party sets up camp in preparation for journeying to Taboo Island.  During the night, they are paid a visit by the long lost missionary, Noltus Innersol, along with his faithful dog and six converts.  Yet all is not as it seems with the priest.  In a throwdown for the ages, one Legionnaire dies and one is left a drooling idiot!   And update not to be missed!




I remember reading this encounter and thinking that it had potential to involve serious PC death.  I wonder, is the dog's bark worse than his bite, or the other way around?


----------



## carborundum

Fantastic update and another nailbiting teaser!

And thanks for another peek at Mandi - it's really interesting to see the feat and skill choices. And the awesomeness


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Fantastic update and another nailbiting teaser!
> 
> And thanks for another peek at Mandi - it's really interesting to see the feat and skill choices. And the awesomeness




If you think she looks devastating on paper, wait till you read about her almost single-handed save of the party during the Innersol battle!


----------



## carborundum

Sweet! Does she use glass strike? No don't tell me!


----------



## Joachim

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> If you think she looks devastating on paper, wait till you read about her almost single-handed save of the party during the Innersol battle!




D&D Rule Number 457:  When the DM indicates that he is impressed by your character, bring your backup character sheet to the next gaming session.

Seriously, though, Mandi realized that with the trouble that she brought upon the party in the encounter immediately previous, she needed to do something that reminded them why they let her tag along in the first place.


----------



## Supar

daelric is still trying to figure out if its the fear of eating flys for his life or the fact she is nice to have around in a tight situation


----------



## Hammerhead

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Yet all is not as it seems with the priest.  In a throwdown for the ages, one Legionnaire dies and one is left a drooling idiot!   An update not to be missed!




Maybe one more is left a drooling idiot? There is Tower Cleaver to consider, after all. 

So what class is next for Mandi? Given her apparent status as Master of the Save or Die (Polymorph/Lethal Transmutation/Paralyze/whatever), Fatespinner would be a fun choice, albeit a little "iffy" flavor wise.


----------



## Joachim

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> So what class is next for Mandi? Given her apparent status as Master of the Save or Die (Polymorph/Lethal Transmutation/Paralyze/whatever), Fatespinner would be a fun choice, albeit a little "iffy" flavor wise.




From an optimization standpoint, fatespinner might be a good choice, but like you I just don't buy it from a flavor standpoint.  14th level will most likely be another level in wizard, and then at that point or shortly thereafter I will start taking levels in archmage (15th level feat will have to be some sort of Spell Focus...most likely Enchantment).


----------



## theredrobedwizard

Joachim said:
			
		

> From an optimization standpoint, fatespinner might be a good choice, but like you I just don't buy it from a flavor standpoint.  14th level will most likely be another level in wizard, and then at that point or shortly thereafter I will start taking levels in archmage (15th level feat will have to be some sort of Spell Focus...most likely Enchantment).




Oh, Fatespinner makes sense.  She's one of the most Machiavellian spellcasters I've read about in quite some time.  It's only logical that she try to control the fates of everyone around her, bending them into the grand design she has planned out.  "What? It made the save? Not anymore."

-TRRW


----------



## Zaruthustran

So, what are these +6 augmentations on Mandi's magic items? Some kind of new magic item? If they're a tacked-on augmentation from Craft Wondrous, what are the mechanics for their cost/creation?


----------



## javcs

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> So, what are these +6 augmentations on Mandi's magic items? Some kind of new magic item? If they're a tacked-on augmentation from Craft Wondrous, what are the mechanics for their cost/creation?



I think the mechanics are in the MIC.


----------



## Joachim

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> Oh, Fatespinner makes sense.  She's one of the most Machiavellian spellcasters I've read about in quite some time.  It's only logical that she try to control the fates of everyone around her, bending them into the grand design she has planned out.  "What? It made the save? Not anymore."
> 
> -TRRW




Yeah, but it requires, like, 5 ranks in Profession(gambler)...that's just not Mandi's style.

Fatespinner is like the coolest prestige class ever...for exactly 1 round per day.  After that it's kinda meh.


----------



## Joachim

javcs said:
			
		

> I think the mechanics are in the MIC.




CORRECT!  Under the heading titled something like "Adding Common Effects to Existing Items".  This section of the MIC is as ground-breaking as the new "Detect Magic + high Spellcraft Check = free Identify" portion of the book.

Seriously, these two sections remove two of the more annoying parts of the game...not being able to use cool magic items because you "needed that slot for your headband of intellect" and the need to burn 100gp and a spell slot to know that you have found a 50 gp potion of cure light wounds.


----------



## wolff96

Joachim said:
			
		

> Yeah, but it requires, like, 5 ranks in Profession(gambler)...that's just not Mandi's style.
> 
> Fatespinner is like the coolest prestige class ever...for exactly 1 round per day.  After that it's kinda meh.




I liked the older version of the Fatespinner from 3.0E.  I can't comment on balance -- I never had the opportunity to play one -- but at least you could do more than just add spin in one go.  

Lowering the DC on one spell to raise it on others?  That makes a lot of sense to me...


----------



## RabidBob

karianna said:
			
		

> Make that 2 kiwis, although this one lives in London for the moment




Three!  Although this one is also in London.


----------



## Aholibamah

An epic fight at the end of one of the nastiest adventures! BTW I have to say your descriptions of the gruesome inhabitants made this very vivid, I can only imagine how exciting the game must have been. 

And while I like this group in general I have to say that it really helps to have a smart spellcaster like Mandi around.


----------



## JollyDoc

Just a quick note to let you all know that I haven't forgotten you.  We are not gaming tomorrow, so I'm taking a little extra time with the update.  Should have it up within the next day or two though.  Thanks for your patience.


----------



## carborundum

Extra time = extra quality update! Sweet!

As Homer would say, "Mmmmmmmmmm, words!"


----------



## R-Hero

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Just a quick note to let you all know that I haven't forgotten you.  We are not gaming tomorrow, so I'm taking a little extra time with the update.  Should have it up within the next day or two though.  Thanks for your patience.






Aaaahh crap!!

I was looking forward to the next installment since you told me the working title.


p.s.  I'm ready to quit my job if I can find another that will let me have my Sundays back.   (Although I did just meet a potential gamer at work...)


----------



## JollyDoc

R-Hero said:
			
		

> Aaaahh crap!!
> 
> I was looking forward to the next installment since you told me the working title.
> 
> 
> p.s.  I'm ready to quit my job if I can find another that will let me have my Sundays back.   (Although I did just meet a potential gamer at work...)





I hope this wasn't the same one you told me about that you met on the psych ward!!
Anyway, as promised, I now present...

THE DEVIL WEARS COUATL

Lavinia Vanderboren was filled with pride and relief when her Legionnaires gave her the full report of all that had transpired in the lightless depths below ancient Thanaclan.  They had performed above and beyond her expectations and helped stabilize her tenuous position as Lady Mayor.
“There’s one other thing,” Mandi said.  “We told you of the village of mongrel folk that we encountered.  Well, I’m afraid we may have overstepped our authority, but given the circumstances, I didn’t think you would mind.”
“What do you mean?” Lavinia asked, puzzled.
“It’s just that I think you are going to find yourself with around one-hundred and fifty new constituents in the next few days,” the elf wizard replied, a smile playing on her thin lips.  “I invited Vertram and his people to make their way here and join our little experiment.  I have reason to believe they are making this journey as we speak, and despite initial prejudices, I believe they will make a valuable addition to the community.”
Lavinia looked thoughtful, a playful smile on her face.  “Manthalay won’t be happy.”
“Lord Meravanchi,” Mandi said with distaste, “may have bigger things to worry about soon.”
Lavinia cocked her head questioningly.  “How so?”
“Let’s just say that I have sources that have kept me informed about certain…indiscretions on the part of your rival,” Mandi replied.
“I hope you’re not speaking of blackmail,” Lavinia said grimly.  “I can’t condone that.”
“Oh, rest assured, that if these rumors bear fruit, there will be legitimate cause for action,” Mandi said cryptically.  
“Well,” Lavinia waved dismissively, “we shall deal with that when the time comes.  For now, there is someone who has been waiting to speak with you.  Jakara arrived shortly before you did, and he has been staying at the chapel with Catherly.  When you have rested, I think you should hear what he has to say.”
“There is no need to delay,” Sepoto said.  “Lead the way.”
_________________________________________________________

They found Jakara in the narthex of the chapel, seated in a large chair and clutching an ivory scroll tube in his hands.  
“My friends!” he exclaimed in his native tongue, smiling and rising to greet them.  “I thank you again for delivering me from that cursed cavern.”
Daelric translated for the others as Mandi replied.  “Say nothing of it.  We only did what any other decent folk would have done in our place.”
“Nonetheless,” Jakara replied, “I owe you my life.  Now, as I promised you, I have a tale to tell you.  I have spoken with the priest, Catherly, and with your lovely patron as well, and they have highly recommended you for the task my master has set me upon.  As I told you before, I am of the Tiger Clan, yet my people are not those of the Seven Villages.  My tribe dwelt in a narrow valley in the mountains west of the central plateau…at least until recently.  We have long known that there was a darkness atop that taboo place, that our ancient ancestors once dwelt there, and that they angered the gods and made this island what it is today.  We do not go there.  It is not safe.  For some time, what dwelt there remained there as well.  Yet of late, things have changed.  The demons that dwell in the City of Broken Idols have turned their attentions outward, and earlier this year, my tribe was slaughtered by men wearing the skins of demon lions.  I alone survived, and long were the nights I contemplated a suicide trek to the taboo heights to avenge my kin.  Yet before I fell to such a lure, I met a man from your world.  This was Noltus Innersol.
He had already gathered a flock from the island’s other tribes.  Lizardfolk and phanaton and Maztican alike followed him, and his words were captivating.  I found much wisdom in them, for he too had long fought against the demon host.  He seemed particularly taken with my totems, and my focus in opposing the demons.  For a time, I traveled with him, and helped him to gather more followers.  Noltus had learned of the lost village of Mantru, and his goal was to travel there, atop the central plateau, and rescue the villagers from whatever peril kept them isolated from their kin.”
“Yet he was also taken with my skills.  He decided he would lead his followers to bring the word of his god to the heights, yet asked me to carry a message to your tribe of Farshore.  He also asked me to spread the lore of totems to the people of the Seven Villages.  It has been the wisdom of my tribe to keep such knowledge to ourselves, but I see now that it can serve no purpose if I am the last.”
“Before I made it to Farshore, alas, my trail was discovered by the skin-wearing fiends.  I hid Noltus’s message in the stump of a tree and turned to face my tormentors, but they proved too much even for me.  I defeated them, but not before they stole my mind.  It was not long until the troglodytes captured me, and thus my state when you discovered me, wretched in their cage.  After you freed me, I returned to the site of my failure to find Noltus’s message safe.  I have brought it here, and your priest and patron have read its contents.  They wish you to read it as well.”

At this point, Jakara passed Mandi the scroll tube.  It was crafted of ivory and inlaid with gold, depicting holy symbols of Lathander.  Mandi opened it, and unfurled the parchment within.  She began to read:

“To Vesserin Catherly…
My friend, I write you this letter to inform you of a most terrible discovery.  Know first that the man who carries this letter is also a friend, and that his skills and techniques for standing against the demonic host may well serve you and the people of the Seven Villages well in the months to come.  Learn from him, for what he has to teach is of great value.
But to the news at hand:    I had decided to follow up on the Maztican tales of the village of Mantru, that isolated tribe dwelling in Thanaclan’s shadow atop the plateau.  I had hoped to contact the village, to bring the Sun Father’s hope to them, for as you will recall, I believe I can use their worship of violent Tonatiuh to my favor.  Lathander and this savage deity have more in common than my brethren might admit.  The Stone of the Sun and the Moon all but proves it.  By showing the villagers of Mantru Lathander’s wisdom, I had hoped to civilize them.
Yet from all appearances, Mantru may be lost.  You are well aware of the rumors that something dire has taken up residence in the City of Broken Idols.  The Seven Villages call the central plateau taboo for strong and true reasons.  Yet what dwells on high is no longer content with the ruins of Thanaclan.  The man who brings you this letter is proof of this fear, for his tribe was slaughtered by savage heathens from the central plateau.  Men who wear the skins of demons, and who keep those they capture alive for unknowable reasons before they return to their lair in the City of Broken Idols.  
I have seen evidence of these heathens at work elsewhere, and have even encountered some of their dead.  Yet I do not fear them, for no demon can withstand the purity of my convictions.  I shall lead my new followers atop the central plateau.  We shall deliver the children of Mantru from their oppressors and defeat the fiends.  Yet should  clouds or the fall of night keep Lathander from my side, and should I fall, know that the evil that broods in the City of Broken Idols does not rest.  If you should seek to follow in my footsteps, bring with you the Stone of the Sun and the Moon.  I have come to believe that it may hold the key to what destroyed Thanaclan lo so long ago.
I do not fear for my own life.  Lathander has set me upon this course for a reason.  With Bulgan’s constant companionship, I am never alone on my quest.  But I do fear what these fiends might try if none beyond me take up arms against them.  If I do not return, I ask only that you fight as you can, and that this missive be sent on to the Lady Gosalar of the Tashluta Dawnhouse as my final testament.”
						Your Friend,
						Noltus Innersol

“What is this Stone of the Sun and the Moon he spoke of?” Marius asked at length.  
In answer, Catherly brought forth from his robes a stone disc.
“This was recovered by Noltus from a ruined shrine several years ago,” the priest explained.  “It was the genesis of his interest in this island, since the particular style of carvings matches that found on the Maztican ruins here.  How it came to be located in the mainland jungle ruin in which Noltus found it remains a mystery, but with the use of divination, he was able determine three points of interest about it that he shared with me.  First, he was sure the disc originated in the ruins of Thanaclan, as evidenced by the distinctive representation of Quetzalcoatl, god of the air, as a serpent coiled through the firmament.  Second, the three humanoid figures depicted represent Tezcatlipoca, the god of the moon, Tonatiuh, the god of the sun, and Quetzalcoatl in human form holding court over the others.  Finally, the three deities are shown as working together, strange since Tezcatlipoca and Quetzalcoatl are enemies, their attentions focused on what appears to be a bow.  This long vexed Noltus.  He eventually came to believe that the disc was in fact an illustration of a weapon the three gods came together to create, yet he had been unable to discover any legends of such a bow.  He suspected that the carving was somehow a map to the location of this ancient weapon.”
“Which brings us to the crux of the matter,” Lavinia interrupted.  “While Catherly would urge you to go to Thanaclan in search of this weapon, it is my fear that whatever has laid claim to the City of Broken Idols is the source of the raw materials the koprus were using to create the shadow pearls.  If a new source of evil is spreading from the central plateau, it’s only a matter of time before these fiend-wearing monsters turn their eyes south.”

The Legionnaires were silent as they mulled over the information they’d been give, but finally Sepoto spoke for them all.
“We are at your disposal, my Lady, as always, and if this is your will, then we shall do your bidding.  You say Noltus was going to Mantru first?” he asked Jakara.
“That was his plan,” the warrior nodded.
“Where is this village?” asked Sepoto.
“On the southwest shore of Broken Lake, which lies in the center of the plateau.  An island near its northeast shore holds the remains of ancient Thanaclan,” Jakara replied.
“Then we shall leave at first light,” Mandi said, “and Mantru shall be our preliminary destination.”
_____________________________________________________________

The following morning, Mandi and the others assembled in the great hall of Lavinia’s home.  They bade their patron farewell, and then the elf wove her magic, instantly transporting the company hundreds of miles north, once more to Gallivant Cove.  From there they began the day-long trek south into the island’s interior, to the central plateau.  They reached the base of its three-thousand foot, sheer cliffs as the sun began to sink below the western horizon.  Finding no obvious means of scaling the heights, each of the companions imbibed an elixir which enabled them to fly, and they soared like a strange covey of geese to the summit of the plateau.

The plateau was wide, some twenty or more miles in diameter.  They camped on the edge of the cliffs and resumed their journey the following day.  After several hours of walking across the flat grasslands, they began to see evidence of the ancient civilization in the form of broken walls and cracked columns protruding, vine covered, from the earth.  The ruins became more evident as they neared the northern shore of Broken Lake.  From there, miles to the east, they could just make out the island upon which the City of Broken Idols itself rested.  Their path took them south and west, however, and the spent most of the remainder of the day skirting the shore of the lake.  Finally, as the sun began to set once more, they came upon the small village of Mantru, nestled on the very shores of the lake water.  The town consisted of eight thatched lodges of various sizes, two of which were built on stilted platforms out in the lake itself.  There was no sign of life.  Not even a dog barked, and yet there was no evidence of violence either.  All of the buildings were intact, no blood stained the grounds, and no bodies were visible.

No sooner had the Legionnaires passed the village’s perimeter, than the air before them began to shimmer as two winged serpents wavered into view.  Mandi cursed silently to herself as she saw them:  couatls.
‘We greet you, mortals, with hope and sadness,’ the musical voices of the creatures spoke simultaneously into the minds of each of the companions.  ‘We have been expect…’  Their voices trailed off as they spied Mandi.  Though she was in her normal, elven form, rather than that of a demon, the slitted eyes of the couatls narrowed dangerously, and their forked tongues flicked rapidly.
‘What is the meaning of this desecration?’ they hissed angrily.
“What do you mean?” Daelric replied.
‘Do not take us for fools!’ the serpents screeched.  ‘We can see clearly that your associate is clad in the…skin…of one of our brethren!’
“I thought you said they were demon snakes,” Samson said, glowering angrily at the elf.
Mandi shrugged.  “I said what I had to say.  We needed the weapons cache.”
‘You will leave this sacred place!  Now!’ the couatls commanded.  
“Please,” Daelric said placatingly as he stepped forward.  “We are here in search of a priest of Lathander.  A missionary named Noltus Innersol.  Please do not judge us based on the actions of our associate.”
The couatl’s glared at Daelric as if he were a dim-witted child.  ‘We…will…not…negotiate…with…someone…who…wears…our…skin…for…a…dress!’ they said slowly and deliberately.
At that point, Mandi raised her hands in mock surrender.  “Look.  If you must take issue with someone, then let it be me.  Your kinsman attacked me when all that I asked was his assistance in helping me to procure a weapon store to defend our village of Farshore from invading pirates.  Still, I can understand your ire.  I will leave, and offend you no further.  Just please hear out my friends.”
‘If one of our kind attacked you,’ the couatls snarled, ‘then there must have been good reason!  You are correct.  You will leave, and you will take your friends with you!’
Daelric stepped forward again, this time producing the disc given to them by Jakara.  “Look at this,” he said.  “Can you not see the image of Quetzalcoatl?  This was given to us by the Lathanderite.  Would he have done such a thing if he did not trust us?”
‘More likely that you killed him and took it from his body,’ the couatls spat.  ‘Why do you not wear his hide as well?’
During the conversation, Tower Cleaver had been edging closer to one of the huts.
‘Stop!’ the couatls commanded.  ‘This will be our last warning!  Leave now before we forget our vows and are forced to do you all great harm!’
Sepoto fingered his chain, eyes flinty.  Marius stood calmly, knowing full well what the couatls were, but feeling no obligation to share this information with his partners.  Samson looked nervous, his eyes flicking back and forth between the couatls and his friends, wondering which would strike first, and more importantly, whose side he would be on.  It was Mandi who broke the stalemate.
“I’m leaving,” she announced.  “There’s nothing here we can use.  Let the snakes return to their duty.  We will find our answers elsewhere.”  With that, she turned on her heel and marched from the village.  One by one, her teammates followed.  Marius was the last to depart, giving a teasing wave to the couatls as he went, tell-tale tendrils of smoke wafting from his fingertips.
____________________________________________________________

“I apologize for nothing,” Mandi snapped as Samson continued his interrogation.  They had made camp a mile or two from Mantru, and were now gathered round their fire, debating the events of the day.  “I did what needed to be done, and dozens of Farshore citizens are alive today because of it,” the wizardess continued.
“And you didn’t include us in your decision making,” Samson barked back.  “Instead you unilaterally took it upon yourself to be god-like and hand down your decree!  Well I’m telling you right now that I’m done!  If you lie to us again, I will resign from the company.  I will offer my services to the Jade Ravens.  I trust that ogre more than I do you!”
“Such fire,” Mandi smiled.  “Careful making threats you may not be able to carry through.  We’re a long way from Farshore, and a lot can happen before we return to civilization again.”
“Is that supposed to intimidate me?” Samson said as he rose to his feet, his hand on the haft of his morningstar.  Mandi shrugged, still smiling.
“Enough,” Sepoto said, stepping between the two.  “Samson, I understand your point, but I do not disagree with Mandi’s goal.”
“The end does not justify the means!” Samson shouted.
“Possibly,” the crusader said, noncommittally.  He then turned to Mandi.  “On the other hand, I also take issue with being left in the dark.  In the future, if you have information to share, see that you do it.  We are a team, and last I checked, no one had been appointed field commander.  We make group decisions from this point on.”
Mandi nodded slightly, willing to acquiesce for the sake of party unity, but knowing it was a promise she would never keep.

“Hello the camp!” a voice suddenly called out of the darkness.  Instantly the Legionnaires were on their feet, hands on weapons, or incantations on lips.  A group of a half-dozen or so men walked into the firelight.  They were led by a tall, red-haired and bearded man wearing tattered clerical vestments.  A heavy mace hung from his belt.  A small dog trotted along at his feet.  The six others with him were Maztican, all armed with bows and macuahuitls, the sword-like traditional weapons of the tribes.  Mandi and Daelric, who had seen Noltus Innersol before when he had visited Farshore, recognized the missionary at once.
“Noltus Innersol?”  Mandi asked, suspiciously.
“The same,” the priest answered.  “Do I know you?”
“Perhaps,” Mandi replied.  “We are from Farshore.  Me and my colleague,” she gestured towards Daelric, “were there when you passed through.”
Recognition suddenly shown in Noltus’s eyes, and he nodded.  “Yes, of course!  You are Ozymandia, of the Jade Ravens, and Daelric…you worked with Vesserin.  How is my old friend?”
“He is well,” Daelric said flatly.  “As is the man you sent to him…”  He let the statement hang, looking for any sign of duplicity on the priest’s face.
“Jakara,” Noltus answered at once.  “Praise Lathander he made it safely.  Then Vesserin must have sent you here to aid me.”
“Perhaps,” Mandi said.  “Yet we would like to be certain that you are who you say you are.  By your own testament, there are demonic shapechangers in these lands.”
Noltus held up one hand, shaking his head.  “You can see for yourself that my followers and I have been in battle.  We are tired and wounded.  If you cannot take me at my word, then we shall leave you in peace and be on our way.  We hope to make Mantru by first light.”
“There’s no one there,” Samson interrupted.  “We were just there this morning.  Not a soul, save for four winged snakes, who would not reveal to us the fate of the villagers.”  He cut his eyes viciously at Mandi.  
“Couatls?”  Noltus asked.  “In Mantru?  And they would not aid you?  How strange.  Are you certain they were what they claimed?”
“We have our doubts,” Mandi answered before Samson could incriminate them further.  “You can see for yourself in the morning.”
“We shall indeed,” Noltus said sternly.  “We shall know the truth of these creatures.  If you like, we could report back to you if you’re still here.”
“That would be well,” Mandi said.  “As for ourselves, we plan on visiting the island tomorrow.   We intend on taking this.”  She held out the disc Catherly had given them.
Noltus breathed deeply when he saw it.  “You’ve brought it then.  Well done.  I had hoped the Mantru villagers could reveal more to me about it, but now it seems any answers must be found in the City of Broken Idols.  If you await us here tomorrow, we shall accompany you.”
“Your help would be most welcome,” Mandi replied.  “You may share our camp tonight.  Daelric will tend your wounds.  You must then excuse him, Marius and myself.  As a practitioner of the arts, you well know of our need for rest.”

Mandi then set about creating a Rope Trick, the extradimensional refuge accessed by a length of twine that ascended into the air, seemingly just to hang, yet really allowing access to a comfortable resting place, safe from prying eyes.  Daelric walked among Noltus and his followers, rendering what aid he could.  
“Good night then,” he said when he was done.  “You will be safe here with Sepoto, Tower Cleaver and Samson.”
“I’m certain of that!”  Noltus laughed.  “You certainly have an odd assortment of companions, but then again…so do I!”
Daelric chuckled and then scaled the rope.
______________________________________________________________

“Wait a few minutes,” Mandi told Daelric once the priest had joined her and Marius.  “Cast your spell of True Sight and then descend, feigning you forgot something in your pack.  Turn your gaze on all of them, are you clear?”
“Crystal,” Daelric nodded.
_____________________________________________________________

Onailati spoke into the minds of his minions, ‘They suspect nothing,’ he said.  ‘Place yourselves strategically about the camp, but in such a way so as not to arouse suspicion.  On my word, we kill them all!’
______________________________________________________________

“He seems to like you!”  Noltus smiled, nodding his head at the dog, which had attached itself to Sepoto’s heel, following him around the camp as he made his patrol.  “His name is Bulgan.  He’s seen me through many trials.”
Sepoto glanced down at the cur and smiled slightly.  He’d never liked dogs…or children, for that matter.  Noltus then made his way over to Samson.
“So your people revere dragons, is that so?” he asked.
“Yes,” Samson replied.  “You see, it all began millennia ago…” he warmed to his subject matter, eager to speak of his heritage.  Noltus listened attentively, all the while marking the position of his followers.  Four of them knelt around the fire, near at hand, while a fifth stood apart from the rest.  The last had struck up a sign-language conversation with the minotaur, the brute going along with the hand game enthusiastically.
Noltus’s gaze abruptly shifted from the rambling goblin to the suspended rope.  The priest was shimmying back down it. 
‘Be alert,’ he told the others.  Sure enough, the dolt’s face said it all.  As he reached the ground and looked around, his eyes went as wide as saucers.  No gambler’s face, that one.  
‘Now!’ he called, and in seconds, all Hell broke loose.

Daelric barely had time to register what he was seeing.  None of the strangers were what they appeared.  The Mazticans still seemed vaguely human, but they were not men.  They wore what appeared to be the hides of a demonic lions.  The undersides of the skins were raw muscle, fused to their skin and become one with them.  The beasts’ heads reared up around the heads of their wearers, while their forelimbs, hanging down from the Maztican’s shoulders, writhed like snakes ready to strike.  Noltus himself was some sort of muscular, gray-skinned humanoid with taloned hands, sunken eyes, and a mouthful of sharp teeth.  Even the dog was not as it seemed.  Instead, Daelric saw a hulking monster, eighteen feet tall, looming over Sepoto.  It was akin to a massive baboon, with long, muscular arms possessing additional joints along their length, and its maw was oversized and filled with immense teeth.  As Daelric’s eyes locked with Noltus’s, he knew that whatever had taken the form of the priest was aware the ruse was over, and that meant the time for killing had come.

Only Sepoto’s instinct and cat-like reflexes saved him.  One moment the dog was lapping at his hand, and the next a creature out of nightmare stood next to him, its saber-like claws swinging for his head.  The crusader leaped to one side, spinning his chain from around his wrists as he moved, putting several feet of distance between himself and the monstrosity.  Glancing quickly around, he saw a flurry of activity in the camp.  Daelric had vanished, obviously seeking the safety of invisibility, but Noltus had disappeared as well. Four of the Mazticans were rushing towards Samson, their forms shifting as they went, until he saw them as Daelric did.  The fifth one had risen magically into the air, while the one near Cleaver had drawn its sword and was circling the confused minotaur warily.  This wasn’t good, and Sepoto knew that Mandi and Marius could hear none of it, isolated as they were in the Rope Trick.  He only prayed to Savras that they just happened to be peering down through the window-like opening of the portal at that moment.

Samson had no idea what was happening.  One minute he was regaling Noltus with tales of his homeland and tribe, and the next, Noltus was gone, and four demonic lion-men were charging towards him.  Just before they reached him, they leaped into the air, swords raised, claws flailing, teeth bared.  They struck like a pack of rabid wolves, their obsidian blades slashing his flesh, while the seemingly self-animate fangs and talons of the lion skins they wore ripped and tore at him.  The goblin’s head swam as he spun crazily, trying to ward off blows from all sides.  Suddenly, Noltus appeared in front of him, and for a moment the dragon shaman felt relief.  Then, however, the priest’s features began to melt and flow until a ghoul-like thing, wielding Noltus’s great mace leered at him as it raised the weapon.  After the second hit, everything went black, and fortunately for him, Samson never felt the third.

Sepoto saw Samson go down under the horde of demons, but unfortunately he was busy with his own.  The great ape swiped one platter-sized paw at him, and three bright-red rips appeared in his breast plate, pouring blood.  The crusader recoiled, but immediately regained his footing, pressing his own attack.  His chain seemed like an extension of his body, slicing as easily through fur and sinew as it did through air.  The monkey demon snarled and backed several feet away, where it crouched, waiting for an opening to spring.  Then, Sepoto saw something that made his heart leap with joy.  Appearing out of thin air from the top of the rope was Marius, his hands wreathed in sizzling blue lightning.

Marius and Mandi had indeed been watching Daelric’s descent.  So when they saw the stricken look on the priest’s face, followed by his abrupt disappearance, they knew immediately that something was wrong.  
“Go ahead!” Mandi shouted as her form shifted to that of a barbed-skinned devil.  “I’m right behind you!”
Marius nodded, and dove head-first down the hole.  As he tumbled towards the ground, a spell was already on his lips.  He hit hard, but rolled with it, coming up on one side.  Just as Samson fell beneath the demonic onslaught, the warmage loosed his magic.  An arc of electricity flashed from him to the nearest demon, and then jumped to the next, and the next.  All three of them jittered and shook as the lightning coursed through their bodies.  Unfortunately, it was not enough to kill them.  As one, all four of them turned towards the gnome, teeth bared, their own as well as the snarling lion heads above them.  With a horrifying roar they rushed Marius.

Tower Cleaver was very confused, which was not a new sensation for the barbarian.  Fortunately, he was not a deep or complex thinker.  Often things were black and white to him.  Such as now.  On the one hand, their new found allies all looked different and were suddenly attacking.  On the other, his tribe-mates were in danger.  The latter fact was all that mattered.  Hefting his axe, he turned towards the lion-thing in front of him.  The little creature danced nimbly at the edge of his reach, darting in every now and then to slash at him.  The big minotaur barely felt the blows.  His vision began to cloud and go red.  His focus narrowed.  All he could see was his enemy.  With a snort and a snarl that would freeze a lesser man’s blood, he surged forward, his axe a blur of ruin before him.

Reflexively, Marius threw his hands up in a warding gesture.  It was a futile one.  The skinwalkers pounced on him like lions on a wounded gazelle.  Teeth, claws and blades bit into him, bringing pain upon pain.  Then, a blinding flash of searing agony in his lower back, followed by blissful numbness below his waist.  His hands automatically sought out the wound, and they came back blood-soaked, with bits of white bone stuck to his finger tips.

Onailati was ecstatic.  The fools were falling as easily as the Lathanderite and his followers had.  He looked down at the goblin at his feet.  His Sight told him that the wretched creature still lived, but only just, which was exactly how he wanted it.  Calling the dark powers of necromancy to his hand, he bent down and gently caressed Samson’s forehead, drawing his soul from his body.  As the dragon shaman breathed his last, Onailati exulted in the raw power of a living essence.  Suddenly, he turned, sniffing the air, head cocked.  Daelric froze where he had been quietly making his way towards his fallen comrade, still cloaked in invisibility.  With a savage growl, Onailati leaped directly at him, his mace crushing the priest’s collar bone, driving him to one knee.  Involuntarily, Daelric cried out.
“I have you now,” Onailati hissed as he raised his weapon again.

‘To me, my pet!’ the giant julajimus heard Onailati call in his mind.  He turned his great head towards his master and sensed prey nearby.  Snorting, he began to move away from Sepoto, gaining speed as he dropped to all fours.
“Not so fast!” Sepoto snarled as he whipped his chain around the demon’s forelimbs, wrapping about the wrists and pulling them from under the beast.  The julajimus went face-first into the dirt, brought up short.  I’s muzzle full of earth, it spat, shaking its massive head and turning its feral gaze back upon the crusader.

The distraction was just what Daelric needed.  Rising to his feet, he darted towards Samson and away from the thing that had worn Noltus’s shape.  
“It’s not time to go to the clearing at the end of the path just yet, my friend,” the priest whispered as he began to chant and pray, passing his hands above the goblin’s corpse.  To the priest’s dawning horror, however, nothing was happening.  Samson did not draw breath.  His eyes did not open.  It was as if whatever killed him had simply snuffed his soul out of existence.

Marius struggled to push himself upright, yet he could not feel his legs. The skinwalkers were still all around him, poised to strike again.  Desperately, he began to speak the words to a spell, intending on immolating himself and his attackers, but then, through a break in the surrounding mob, he saw the starlit sky above.  A shadow crossed the moon…another skinwalker, this one flying like a great bat.  It pointed its finger at the warmage and intoned its own spell.  A stabbing pain went through his forehead and all coherent thought left him.  He knew only that predators were about, and he must flee if he was to survive.  Crawling on his belly like a lizard, he reached the end of the dangling rope and scuttled up it, using only his hands, until he vanished into thin air.

Mandi knew that time was running out.  Her gamble was a desperate one, but it was now or never.  Gathering herself, she leaped out of the Rope Trick just as Marius crawled in and curled himself into a fetal position.  Like a dark angel of death, she landed in a crouch among the skinwalkers, yet she ignored them.  Focusing all of her attention on the maurezhi demon that she now knew must have consumed the real Noltus Inersol, she spoke words of power, intoning a curse on the fiend, one that would leave him vulnerable to her next attack.  The belt around her waist suddenly flared with light, filling her with its store of magical energy.  Drawing a thin stick from a pouch, she jabbed it into her thigh, raising her voice as she did so.
“In the name of all that opposes thee and would see thee returned to thy eternal damnation, I rebuke thee!!”  
Onailati quailed before the power of her words, and then, as the force of her spell struck him, he shrieked in unholy agony, his body shriveling to a dried husk in a matter of seconds.  His corpse fell into dust at the feet of his stunned minions.  But Mandi was not through.  Turning her attention to the sorcerous skinwalker flying above her, she dug deeper into her arcane repertoire, knowing the use of such power would leave her dazed and vulnerable as she raised her hand into the air.  A flash of white light engulfed the demon, and when it faded, those watching below were stunned to see that he had been turned to pure glass.  He fell silently to the earth, thirty feet below, and when he struck, he shattered like a stained-glass window, shards flying in all directions.  Mandi heaved with her exertions, her eyes dim and cloudy.

“Well I’ll just be damned,” Sepoto breathed quietly.  Now he knew why, despite her selfish and self-serving nature, he and the others kept Mandi around.  However, she hadn’t managed to take out the big monkey, and so the goliath still had a problem on his hands.  Summoning Savras’ power, he imbued his weapon with an edge sharp enough to flay the hide from an earth elemental.  As the julajimus rose to its feet, Sepoto struck.  The chain tore across the demon’s scalp, leaving it hanging in a tattered flap, temporarily blinding the fiend with its own blood.  The demon rose to its full height at that point, and let loose a deafening roar that could be heard for miles.  The force of it struck everyone, both friend and foe alike, like a battering ram.  One of the skinwalkers dropped dead instantly, while three others grabbed their ears, blood pouring from between their fingers.  Daelric felt his own eardrums rupture as well, and he realized that he could no longer even hear himself speak the necessary words to his prayers.

The titanic bellow didn’t even slow Tower Cleaver.  The minotaur’s axe swept the head from the demon cowering before him, and then his momentum carried him forward, towards the group that had been huddled around Marius.  Lowering his head as he went, Cleaver impaled a second skinwalker on his horns, lifting it into the air like a gory crown.  The two remaining fiends began to circle the raging behemoth in their midst, looking for any opening…knowing they would find only death.

It seemed the julajimus had had enough.  Still pawing at its scalped head, it began lumbering towards the lake, but a second swipe of Sepoto’s chain stopped it cold.  Abruptly, its form wavered and shifted into that of a small bird, taking wing.  By this time, however, Mandi had recovered from her ordeal and managed to send a deadly beam of green light after the fleeing demon, burning it to ash in mid-flight.  Sepoto nodded his appreciation, and then turned towards Cleaver and the skinwalkers.  Issuing his own bellowing challenge, the crusader charged across the campsite, slamming full-force into the nearest fiend and snapping its spine with the force of his blow.  Tower Cleaver finished the other with a double-grip, over-handed chop from his axe, leaving the remains of the creature unrecognizable as anything humanoid.

As the dust settled, however, the Legionnaires realized just how dearly their victory had cost them.  Samson was dead.  Daelric was maimed, and Marius’ mind was gone.  The inhabitants of the City of Broken Idols had lost the first battle, but had perhaps secured the war.


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## Joachim

Why do people get this impression that Mandi is selfish and/or self-serving?  Ruthless, yes...arrogant (or is it confident?), absolutely...but selfish?  Nah.

EDIT:  Sweet description on the _Final Rebuke_...reminded me of the scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark when they opened the Ark of the Covenant.


----------



## gfunk

> With a snort and a snarl that would freeze a lesser man’s blood, he surged forward, *his axe a blur of ruin before him.*




Very well written!  This is what puts this SH, IMO, ahead of others.

Extremely interesting battle.  Attacking in the middle of the old _Rope Trick_ is definitely a classic strategy 

Also, I was surprised to see _Death Knell_ used and that it actually worked.  Must've been a bad luck day for saving throw rolls all around . . .


----------



## Richard Rawen

Aye, many twists in that battle, and my condolences to Samson. The rest of the damage is within their capabilities to restore, though it will slow them some.  Hopefully they can take the demon remains to the Coatl - with Mandi staying out of sight - and learn more from them  without a battle, but then again...


----------



## gfunk

What was the party supposed to do with the Coutals?  Was the demon-skin ambush going to happen anyway?  Perhaps the Coutals would've helped?


----------



## carborundum

What a battle! And what a shame about Samson. (And Marius, and Daelric...) Again, compliments on the writing - it was a great update!

Quick question: I'm curious about Mandi and how she was written. Did she know it was a maurezhi demon (Knowledge skill roll) or did you add that for us readers?

And does Raise Dead not work after a Death Knell? Or did Daelric try something else?


----------



## Quartz

Death Knell is a Death effect.


----------



## Hammerhead

Daelric (probably) tried a Revivify, but it has the same limitations as Raise Dead.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Wow, I just caught up with the story after a really busy time at work & home. I couldn't believe the outcome of the last module - what a battle. 

As is this. This fight can be very hard depending on two things - the surprise of the demons and the RBDM. How are you going to fix Marius and Delaric? 

As for Samson, he couldn't have had his soul consumed as this takes 30 minutes. JollyDoc probably put this in for story purposes. It still leaves the problem with the raise dead limitations...


----------



## JollyDoc

gfunk said:
			
		

> What was the party supposed to do with the Coutals?  Was the demon-skin ambush going to happen anyway?  Perhaps the Coutals would've helped?




The couatl's were there mainly to facilitate giving more clues about Thanaclan.  Their lack of cooperation is not a deal breaker for the group.  The ambush would have happened one way or another.


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> What a battle! And what a shame about Samson. (And Marius, and Daelric...) Again, compliments on the writing - it was a great update!
> 
> Quick question: I'm curious about Mandi and how she was written. Did she know it was a maurezhi demon (Knowledge skill roll) or did you add that for us readers?
> 
> And does Raise Dead not work after a Death Knell? Or did Daelric try something else?




Mandi has mad knowledge skills, and when she emerged from the Rope Trick, she made knowledge checks against everything on the field.  Death Knell is a Death effect.  Spells such as Raise Dead, Revivify and Revanance do not work.  Only Resurrection can help.


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Wow, I just caught up with the story after a really busy time at work & home. I couldn't believe the outcome of the last module - what a battle.
> 
> As is this. This fight can be very hard depending on two things - the surprise of the demons and the RBDM. How are you going to fix Marius and Delaric?
> 
> As for Samson, he couldn't have had his soul consumed as this takes 30 minutes. JollyDoc probably put this in for story purposes. It still leaves the problem with the raise dead limitations...




Daelric was/will be able to Heal himself of deafness, and likewise Marius' Feeblemind.  The latter description was actually of the demon's Death Knell ability, not Consume.  Either way, Samson's just as dead.


----------



## carborundum

Thanks for the quick answer - for some reason I never realized Death Knell was so nasty. Looking now I see the Death descriptor and could kick myself. We live and learn.
Can't wait for the next update ... again. I'll probably have two to read when I get back from hols.


----------



## Need_A_Life

Honestly, I think that quality had been dropping for the last few installments, and then you whip out such a masterpiece!

You're just teasing me, aren't you?

---

As to our intrepid adventurers, remember this: Rope Trick for ALL party members. Guests get to sleep outside. Makes it much harder to get ambushed (dispel magic will be a pain, though).

Also, where's that spell Mandi used from? I know Flesh to Stone, but Flesh to Glass? Seems far superior, really.

Probably Spell Compendium, right?


----------



## Zaruthustran

Wow! What a battle! Terrific writing, JD.

So: just what *were* those spells of Mandi's? And what are the mechanical effects?


----------



## Joachim

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> So: just what *were* those spells of Mandi's? And what are the mechanical effects?




Ok...so this is how that round of combat went down:

Normal Move Action - Jump through Rope Trick hole and land on my butt.

Swift Action - Activate Belt of Battle, spending all 3 daily charges to grant bonus move and standard actions.

Bonus Move Action - Stand up, AOO's missing me.

Bonus Standard Action - _Limited Wish _ on demon to give it a -7 on its next saving throw.

Normal Standard Action - _Final Rebuke_ on demon (enchantment effect, Will save or die DC 32 thanks to _limited wish_...even if it passed the save it would have been dazed for 1 round).

As soon as my action ends, take an immediate action to cast _Celerity_ (they have clarified that you no longer need to 'hold' your swift action to use an immediate action later that round...it simply takes your swift for the following round).

Bonus _Celerity_ Action - Cast _Glass Strike_ on sorcerer (transmutation effect, Fortitude save or turn to glass except for his magic items, DC 27).  His fly ends and he smashes on the ground.

So, in less than 6 seconds Mandi jumped down gracelessly from her rabbit hole (which would require a DC 32 check on a dispel due to her high caster level and ring of enduring arcana), activated a magic item, stood back up, cast two 7th level spells, cast a 4th level spell, and then topped it off with another 7th level spell...and was dazed for her trouble.  End result was CR 12 and 13 monsters dead, and the pendulum swung back in our favor.

That was simply a gambit born of desperation...


----------



## JollyDoc

Need_A_Life said:
			
		

> Honestly, I think that quality had been dropping for the last few installments, and then you whip out such a masterpiece!
> 
> You're just teasing me, aren't you?





Sorry about that.  In truth, Coming Storm was a linker, and pretty much straight dungeon crawl.  Not that interesting to write about, but I didn't want to not update for almost a month.  Also, Lightless Depths was not my favorite in the AP, basically because it lacked...er...depth.  The guys managed to liven it up by bum rushing the pyramid and starting a battle royal.  I like City of Broken Idols, and from this point on, the AP kicks into high gear, so hopefully the reads will stay interesting.


----------



## Joachim

The RPGA just posted the character sheets for the Open Championship PCs, and it got me to thinking....are any of the faithful readers here going to be at Gen Con this year?  If so, maybe we will see y'all there.


----------



## Ed Gentry

Well I don't post here a lot but I read this SH nearly religiously because you folks are some great players and JD describes things so well. I'll be at GenCon all four days. Any chance you all would be running a game we readers could get in on?


----------



## theredrobedwizard

Joachim said:
			
		

> The RPGA just posted the character sheets for the Open Championship PCs, and it got me to thinking....are any of the faithful readers here going to be at Gen Con this year?  If so, maybe we will see y'all there.




I'll be there.  Short-ish guy in a Mantis or Crab Clan kimono (ala L5R).  Feel free to stop me and introduce yourself.

-TRRW


----------



## JollyDoc

We're not going to be running anything this year, but Joachim and I will be (once again) defending our first place title in the Open.  We'd love to meet up with some of our readers.  Our team in the Open is Aqua Teen Hunger Force, and we'll be in the 8 am Thursday preliminary round.  I'll be the one in the ATHF t-shirt with the Meatwad pin.  I may also be sporting a baseball cap that says JollyDoc, or a t-shirt that says JollyDoc's Iron Man on the back.  Hope to see ya'll there.  Joachim will be the one with the vacant expression on his face saying, "Something smells funny."


----------



## Joachim

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Joachim will be the one with the vacant expression on his face saying, "Something smells funny."




Queue the Lynyrd Skynyrd...."OOOooo THAT SMELL!!"

Or, even better, queue the helicopter guy from "Apocalypse Now"...."I love the smell of [gamer armpit-funk] in the morning.  It smells like...victory..."

Seriously, you know you've arrived once you are surrounded by people marinating in their own juices.  It's like the GenCon rite of passage...if you can pass your Fort save against a low DC Stinking Cloud, you are golden for the rest of the Con.


----------



## RabidBob

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> If the place he's going to put her in is one of leadership, then we're agreed.
> 
> Mandi, Thrisp, and Anwar are/were the greatest of characters.  In a perfect world, the group would consist of them, Daelric, and Tower Cleaver.




I can't say I'm keen on Mandi, Anwar however was stylishly evil and quite amusing.  Mandi is just a bit, well, annoying (sorry!).


----------



## JollyDoc

RabidBob said:
			
		

> I can't say I'm keen on Mandi, Anwar however was stylishly evil and quite amusing.  Mandi is just a bit, well, annoying (sorry!).





Careful what you say.  You wouldn't like life as a toad!


----------



## Joachim

RabidBob said:
			
		

> I can't say I'm keen on Mandi, Anwar however was stylishly evil and quite amusing.  Mandi is just a bit, well, annoying (sorry!).




To each their own...


----------



## Zaruthustran

RabidBob said:
			
		

> I can't say I'm keen on Mandi, Anwar however was stylishly evil and quite amusing.  Mandi is just a bit, well, annoying (sorry!).




I'm digging Mandi. The backstory bit with the tie-in to both the Jade Ravens and the Vanderboren family was particularly cool.


----------



## RabidBob

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> I'm digging Mandi. The backstory bit with the tie-in to both the Jade Ravens and the Vanderboren family was particularly cool.




Certainly in terms of backstory and character development, there's much more to Mandi than Anwar, but Anwar had "Teh Funny", and I found him very entertaining.  Mandi's scheming just feels, I don't know, nastier somehow.  Having said that, she does not see to have done much in the way of scheming or evil for some time now.  




			
				Joachim said:
			
		

> To each their own...




Yup!  Taste is a funny thing.  I was gutted when Anwar bought the farm.  




			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Careful what you say.  You wouldn't like life as a toad!




Oh, I don't know, it'd raise my cha score!  


I've just finally caught up, and am looking forward to the next update.  Poor Samson, everyone's favourite chewtoy finally got chewed too much.


----------



## gfunk

RabidBob said:
			
		

> Certainly in terms of backstory and character development, there's much more to Mandi than Anwar, but Anwar had "Teh Funny", and I found him very entertaining.




You mean, let me understand this cause, ya know maybe it's me, I'm a little messed up maybe, but I'm funny how, I mean funny like I'm a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh, I'm here to freakin' amuse you? What do you mean funny, funny how? How am I funny? 



Good luck in the Open this year guys!


----------



## theredrobedwizard

gfunk said:
			
		

> Good luck in the Open this year guys!




They're going to need it, with my crew actually able to compete this year.   

-TRRW


----------



## JollyDoc

gfunk said:
			
		

> You mean, let me understand this cause, ya know maybe it's me, I'm a little messed up maybe, but I'm funny how, I mean funny like I'm a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh, I'm here to freakin' amuse you? What do you mean funny, funny how? How am I funny?
> 
> 
> 
> Good luck in the Open this year guys!




Ah!!  Gfunk busts out the Goodfellas quote for the win!!


----------



## JollyDoc

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> They're going to need it, with my crew actually able to compete this year.
> 
> -TRRW




Wait...did you hear that?  I think that was the distinctive sound of a gauntlet being thrown down!!  To quote Montgomery Burns, "Excellent!  More bodies for my ever-growing army of the undead!"

What's your team name?  What slot are you playing in the prelims?   Which PC are you picking?


----------



## JollyDoc

Sunday Night Teaser
__________________

1)  Unable to control themselves, the Legion makes one more attempt at "Parley" with the couatls.  The results are...less than expected...

2)  A new Legionairre joins the ranks, and he has a bone to pick with a some demons!

3)  The trek is made to taboo island, and Mandi comes face-to-face with some of the local "megafauna."

4)  A welcoming committee meets the group, and is promptly dismantled.

5)  Our ever-curious heroes inadvertently make a side-trip back to Golismorga.

6)  Never ones to do things the conventional way, the adventurers opt for the back door approach to the ruins of Thanaclan

7)  One spear-trap and flesh jelly later, and the group finds themselves temporarily stumped by a tricky puzzle.  Solving it, they get to meet not one, not two, but three Maztican gods!!  Tell'em what they've won Big Q!!


----------



## theredrobedwizard

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Wait...did you hear that?  I think that was the distinctive sound of a gauntlet being thrown down!!  To quote Montgomery Burns, "Excellent!  More bodies for my ever-growing army of the undead!"
> 
> What's your team name?  What slot are you playing in the prelims?   Which PC are you picking?




All the registrationing was done by another member of our group, so I'm not sure on our team name or which slot.  I'm aiming for the Duskblade or Favored Soul.

Besides, it was more a tongue-in-cheek way of saying "good luck, guys" than an actual challenge. I'm sure you'll thoroughly slaughter any chance of us winning.

-TRRW


----------



## JollyDoc

theredrobedwizard said:
			
		

> All the registrationing was done by another member of our group, so I'm not sure on our team name or which slot.  I'm aiming for the Duskblade or Favored Soul.
> 
> Besides, it was more a tongue-in-cheek way of saying "good luck, guys" than an actual challenge. I'm sure you'll thoroughly slaughter any chance of us winning.
> 
> -TRRW





Still, it's awfully damn cool that someone else from the boards is going to be competing with us in the Open.  Keep a lookout for us...Aqua Teen Hunger Force, 8 am slot on Thursday.  Look forward to seeing you there!!


BTW, there will be no update to the story hour this week due to the aforementioned pilgrimage to GenCon, but Joachim and I will give you a blow-by-blow of events at the Con of Cons!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

RabidBob said:
			
		

> Certainly in terms of backstory and character development, there's much more to Mandi than Anwar, but Anwar had "Teh Funny", and I found him very entertaining.  Mandi's scheming just feels, I don't know, nastier somehow.



Noone is nastier than Anwar was. That even goes for the big bad two-headed demon prince boss thing. I really hope JollyDoc brings back Anwar (at least in spirit) later on in the adventure somehow.


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Noone is nastier than Anwar was. That even goes for the big bad two-headed demon prince boss thing. I really hope JollyDoc brings back Anwar (at least in spirit) later on in the adventure somehow.





Or if not Anwar someone...someTHING...else...


----------



## Supar

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Sunday Night Teaser
> __________________
> 
> 1)  Unable to control themselves, the Legion makes one more attempt at "Parley" with the couatls.  The results are...less than expected...



JD should have worn his i rolled a nat 20 so you bitches can suck it shirt


----------



## JollyDoc

Hello all, and greetings from GenCon!

Sorry about not posting sooner, but after WoTC's big announcement yesterday about 4th ed., the site was jammed.  Joachim and I are having a blast so far.  Played the preliminary round of the RPGA yesterday morning, and found out today that we did indeed advance.  In fact, beside our name on the advancement board, some whit had typed in "Two time defending champs!"  As if the pressure were not enough already.  We are at the added disadvantage of not having one of our usual players (but a buddy of Joachim's, Dan is meshing beautifully with the group), and a second of the group will be out tomorrow, necessitating a sub (but also one we know, so things will hopefully go well).  

We also had the horrible experience of playing in a "role-play" heavy game yesterday.  After two hours of it, we were driven to bust out our dice and start wrecking the place by revving up a battle royal (though, to be fair, our character backgrounds did have motivation for such action).  Tried our hand at poker today, and both got trounced in the first hour.  

The semi-finals of the Open are tomorrow at 1.  We'll keep you updated.


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Guess not going so well seeing as we have not gotten a Update


----------



## Joachim

No...as a matter of fact we were just waiting to get the results back from the semifinals.

The module was an extremely tough grind (the toughest semifinal round I can ever remember), we were playing with 2 new players to the group, and we suffered through some extremely bad dice rolls (I saw more natural 1's today than I have ever seen in an Open round).   All said, we still made it pretty far, but we did not finish the module and we had 2 PC deaths.  Our DM, one who has been judging Open rounds for over a decade, flattered us by saying that we had the most organization and teamwork of any group he had ever seen.  Looking around the room at the progress of other teams it was apparent that it was going to be a close call as to whether we would advance or not.

And it was.  Out of the 30 teams that played in the semifinals, 10 were selected to advance.  Aqua Teen Hunger Force ("us") placed 10th, and so we will be participating in the Finals for the fourth consecutive year.  Speaking with the head Open official, we were very Very VERY close to ending our championship run.

The good news is that your score in previous rounds does not have any bearing on the Finals championship...it only serves as the weed-out to the Finals round.  We have a chance, but obviously we are going to be up against some stiff competition.  I am not confident that we are going to be victorious this year, but I can only hope that we got the bad die-rolls out of our system today.

As of this moment, the only thing I need is about 5 hours of sleep and then...its GAME ON.


----------



## Hammerhead

Good luck with the Finals, and hey, no pressure.


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Cool even though I will have to hear the Gloating and deal with the big heads for another Year    I hope you guys win again so Good luck to ya


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Yeah, good luck! Anything less than 3rd place will hurt the readership of your story hour, but no pressure.


----------



## Quartz

I'm looking forward to the report.


----------



## Tearlach

Very nice updates team.

Sorry I am away on hols and away from my books/pdf's etc.  I can not recall where Final Rebuke is from.  Could someone enlighten an old man?  From memory was it pretty much a Finger of Death but on the will save rather than fort?


----------



## Hammerhead

Tearlach said:
			
		

> Very nice updates team.
> 
> Sorry I am away on hols and away from my books/pdf's etc.  I can not recall where Final Rebuke is from.  Could someone enlighten an old man?  From memory was it pretty much a Finger of Death but on the will save rather than fort?




Spell Compendium, Level 7 Enchantment. Will save or die horribly; even if you make the save, you're still dazed for 1 round.


----------



## Joachim

Joe and I have just returned from Indianapolis and we have the following to report:

http://www.wizards.com/default.asp?x=welcome/conventions/gencon07#13

That's right...we are Open champions yet again (I am on the far left, Jollydoc is right next to me).  The website is incorrect...it's actually not 3 in a row as we had a second place finish amongst the three first place finishes, but it's always great to see your face grinning like a jackass on one of your hobby's main websites.  Apparently, they are going to post more about it later, but having my picture on there is cool enough for me at this moment.

The final round went INCREDIBLY smoothly, and we were thrilled with our performance.  We kind of lucked our way through the first puzzle room, but after that we proceeded to bring the beat-down to rest of the module.  

The majority of our prizes this year are somewhat delayed...first, we were given acrylic trophies (shown on the picture on Wizard's website), and then we will be shipped every 4th edition roleplaying product that WotC produces in 2008, as it is released.  This would include all of the core books, campaign books, modules, dungeon tiles, etc.  Also, we are are given the opportunity to be playtesters for 4th edition, starting in a few weeks (which, I believe by extension will make everyone in our Sunday night group playtesters).

No gold-embossed PHB for the trophy rack this year, but we were STOKED nonetheless when they called our name out.


----------



## JollyDoc

I'll just echo Joachim's statements, in that it was a very exciting GenCon, and Open in particular, and we were thrilled and honored to add another 1st place win to our resumes.  Joachim (Rich) calculated that our 4 top two wins in a competition comprising 600 teams over four years places our accomplishment in the top 0.67 percentile!  Also, these four wins have comprised the entirety of 3.5 rules being used in the Open.  We OWN 3.5!!  Forgive the hubris.  It's all a bit overwhelming still.  I'm sure we'll be brought back down to earth soon, most likely by our wives giving us a pat on the head and a patronizing, "That's nice dear."


----------



## Supar

grats guys look forward to seeing you next sunday


----------



## Quartz

Joachim said:
			
		

> Also, we are are given the opportunity to be playtesters for 4th edition, starting in a few weeks (which, I believe by extension will make everyone in our Sunday night group playtesters).




Well done - in my previous message I forbore from breaking the news though it was up. I hope you can work out some sort of agreement with them to continue writing up your Story Hours while you're testing 4E - it will be good publicity.


----------



## Joachim

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Joachim (Rich) calculated that our 4 top two wins in a competition comprising 600 teams over four years places our accomplishment in the top 0.67 percentile!




That was 0.67 percentile for each year considering an average of 150 teams each year, and that number has been rising each year (this year we calculated that there were about 180 teams).


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Grats and Glad to Hear it   Cannot wait to hear the details sunday.


----------



## Aracase

"The champions of the 2007 D&D Open"

Really awesome, and congratulations, just like Ika, I look forward to hearing your stories.


----------



## JollyDoc

Aracase said:
			
		

> "The champions of the 2007 D&D Open"
> 
> Really awesome, and congratulations, just like Ika, I look forward to hearing your stories.




I'm going to remember that you guys said this, especially when you're still hearing about them six months from now!!


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> I'm going to remember that you guys said this, especially when you're still hearing about them six months from now!!




I look at it this way if you guys win that means we win too    If we get to playtest the 4e then I guess it might be worth hearing you guys. Only thing I am sad about is everytime you guys win you have come home with goodies some of which we get


----------



## Supar

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> I look at it this way if you guys win that means we win too    If we get to playtest the 4e then I guess it might be worth hearing you guys. Only thing I am sad about is everytime you guys win you have come home with goodies some of which we get




what he said


----------



## carborundum

Well done guys! Congratulations


----------



## carborundum

Out of curiosity (no pressure ) - is the next update going to be on Sunday, mister Doc?


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Out of curiosity (no pressure ) - is the next update going to be on Sunday, mister Doc?




I actually hope to have it up before then.  Saturday at the latest.


----------



## carborundum

/does the dance of anticipation


----------



## JollyDoc

TABOO ISLAND

The Legionnaires gathered around Samson’s final resting place, heads bowed.  After a moment, Sepoto cleared his throat.
“I suppose it falls to me to say something, since I knew him best.”
When the others did not reply, the goliath continued, “I guess the best thing I can say about Samson was that he was a man of principle.  From the first time I met him, shortly before we stole a boat from his former employer, I knew I was dealing with someone who followed his own personal code of honor.  When we lost the boat, he insisted we make recompense to its owner, who would have never been the wiser if nothing had been said.  That streak of honor never left him, as I’m sure you would all agree, even when it was…inconvenient.  I’ve now seen many comrades pass this way…Ferox, Xerxes, Anwar, Basil, Thrisp…and I hope this will be my last.  Good journey, dragon shaman.  May you finally soar high among your ancestors.”
“Go with the Traveler,” Daelric murmured.
“May you never lose your herd,” Tower Cleaver rumbled.
“Luck in the next world,” Mandi sighed.
“Better you than me,” Marius shrugged.
_____________________________________________________

“So what now?”  Sepoto asked.  “Do we make for the island?”
“Maybe not just yet…” Mandi replied thoughtfully.  “I have an idea how we can turn tragedy into triumph.  I propose the rest of you return to Mantru.”
At the others shocked expressions, she held up her hands.  “Don’t worry.  I won’t be accompanying you.  As a matter of fact, my plan is for you to tell the couatl’s that you discovered I was false, and that I was in fact the shape-changing demon that we fought.  Say that the dress was part of the illusion I used.  Tell them about your loss, and the death of Noltus.  Apologize to them for your gullibility, and for having been deceived so easily.  Perhaps then they will give you more information about the fate of the villagers.”

The others were dubious, but calculated that their standing with the couatls could not be made any worse that it already was.  As the afternoon wore on, they made their way back to the abandoned village.  Once again, no sooner had they set foot within the boundaries of the thorp, than the pair of winged serpents appeared before them.  
“Why have you returned?” they hissed angrily, their slitted eyes glinting red.  Daelric stepped forward and bowed deeply.  
“We beg your forgiveness, holy ones,” he began, and then continued quickly, weaving Mandi’s tale.  When he’d finished, Sepoto stepped up and tossed the corpse of Onailati on the ground before them.  
“The fiend killed one of our own during the battle,” he said.  
All the while, the couatl’s had listened impassively.  Finally, they spoke, their voices icy.
“You have reaped what you have sown.  You knew the elf woman to be of evil bent by the manner in which she adorned herself, yet you willingly stayed in her company.  Your loss is regrettable, but not unanticipated.  Perhaps you have learned from your mistakes.  Perhaps not.  In any event, our position remains unchanged.  We will not suffer your presence on this holy ground.”
“This is ridiculous!”  Sepoto roared, throwing up his hands.  “We don’t need your permission!  We’re here to find the truth about what happened to the inhabitants of this village, and we’re going to do that with or without your help!”  With that, the big crusader began walking purposefully towards the nearest lodge.
“Stop!” the couatl’s shouted, and abruptly, two more shimmered into view.  “You have been warned!”
“Fine!” Sepoto barked, not turning towards them.  “I’m warned.  The rest of you, get out of here,” he said to his companions.  “I’ll be along shortly.”

Reluctantly, Daelric, Cleaver and Marius withdrew from the village, with the war mage lingering right at its border, his fingers twitching nervously.  Sepoto peered into each of the huts on the shore, finding each empty in turn.  Only one lodge remained, and it was perched on high stilts in the lake itself.  The goliath’s enchanted boots lifted him into the air, and he flew towards the building and hovered outside its door.  When he pulled the curtain aside, he saw the body of an old man, in full Maztican regalia, lying in state within.  Before he could do more than register this, however, he felt the air around him grown suddenly warmer.  When he looked around, he found himself surrounded by the couatl’s.  In unison, they hurled scorching rays of fire towards him.  The big crusader screamed as the holy fire seared his flesh.  From somewhere far away he could hear Marius shouting his name, and then he saw a sizzling beam of emerald strike one of the divine serpents, removing a sizeable chunk of its flesh.
“Stop!” Sepoto roared.  “You win!” he said as he lifted his hands and backed away from the lodge.  “We will leave, as you have made it abundantly clear that you have no intention of aiding us, but know this…should we fail in our quest, and the demonspawn of this plateau spread to the lowlands, let it be upon your heads!”
With that, the goliath rejoined his companions, and they made their way back out into the savannah.  
_________________________________________________

“I can’t believe you bungled that so completely!” Mandi ranted as she paced in front of Daelric.  “What went wrong?  The story I gave you was perfect!”
“Obviously not,” the priest snapped back, “or else they would have believed us, wouldn’t they?”
“I hate to interrupt this stimulating discussion,” Sepoto said as he applied salve to his burns, “but I think we’ve got company.”
In unison, the company turned, hands going to weapons or spell pouches.  Approaching from the tall grass was a lone human male.  He was obviously Maztican, both in appearance and garb, though he wore gleaming mail under his hides and skins.  Twin scimitars were strapped across his back, and his face bore the ceremonial war markings of a Maztican hunter.  Hands open before him to show he came in peace, he began to speak, first in his native tongue, and then in Common.
“I am Octurus of the Tiger Clan,” he said, his accent thick but understandable.  “I saw you face the demons last night, and I have come to offer you my swords.  If its demons you hunt, then our paths lie together.”
“Tiger Clan, you say?” Mandi asked, stepping forward.  “That’s funny, since we were told by the last surviving Tiger Clan member that the rest had all been killed.”
Octurus’s eyes went wide.  “Another lives??  Tell me his name!”
“Jakara,” Mandi replied.  “Do you know him?”
“Jakara?” Octurus breathed, as though he could barely believe what he was hearing.  “He was one of my war brothers!  You say that he lives??”
“Last we saw him,” Mandi shrugged.  “But that still doesn’t explain your presence here.”  As she spoke, she motioned to Daelric, who quickly spoke the words to a prayer.
“He’s what he seems,” the priest said after a moment, his eyes glowing brightly.
“I am sure Jakara told you what befell our clan,” Octurus said.  “I fought, as did all my kinsmen, but the demons were too many.  We could not hold against them.  I was forced to retreat, and I have been biding my time since, praying to the gods for some word of my brothers’ fate.  Now you bring me tidings that are painful to hear, but this only makes my resolve stronger.  I am bound by blood oath to avenge my clan!”
“What do you know of Mantru, and the couatl’s there?”  Sepoto asked.  
“The village was deserted when I last saw it,” Octurus said.  “I saw nothing of the divine serpents.  If they are there, then it is because Quetzalcoatl has sent them to watch over the site, which must now be considered holy.”
“Hmph,” the goliath snorted.  “Your gods have a strange idea of right and wrong.  In any case, we are indeed going to Taboo Island this very day.  If you wish, you may accompany us, but you’ll pull your own weight.”
“Do not worry,” Octurus said, grinning balefully.  “I think you will find my skills ideally suited to the prey that you hunt.”
____________________________________________________

The Legionnaires took to the air, soaring out over the lake by means of various elixirs of flight…all save one.  Mandi elected to travel beneath the surface in the guise of an ice mephit.  While her companions scouted from the air, she hoped to determine if there was an underwater route beneath the small islet at the lake’s far end.  The water was murky and dim, even only a few feet down, as the sorceress was.  Thus it happened that she failed to notice the gargantuan shadow that rose towards her from the lake’s lightless depths.  It was upon her in a flash, a crocodile of titanic proportions.  One flick of its tree-sized tail propelled it straight into her.  Above, the others of the company saw the great beast breach as it engulfed the tiny mephit in its huge maw.  Mandi never panicked.  At her mental command, the boots she wore flashed briefly, and a moment later she was thirty-feet above the water, blood dripping from several deep puncture wounds.  Below, she saw the shadow of the beast disappear back into the deep.  She decided that she would remain aloft for the remainder of the journey.

As the companions approached the western edge of the isle, they saw clearly that a great entrance opened in the cliff ahead, some ninety feet in width, and just as tall.  The red, marble walls within were lined with carvings depicting strange gods and ferocious animals.  A pair of crude wooden piers extended over the waters of the lake from the entrance, where three canoes were tethered.  A net stretched over a half-dozen thick pilings protected the approach, forming a semicircle around the stone landing.  Beyond the cliffs, they could just glimpse the jungle canopy of the islet’s interior, and could see the top of a large ziggurat protruding above the tree line.  Further in the distance, other such pyramids were barely visible.

“I think the obvious approach is a bit too obvious,” Mandi called to Sepoto.  “Perhaps it would be best if we scouted out the interior approach first.”
The goliath shrugged.  One entrance was as good as another as far as he was concerned.  He had no illusions that they were not in for a fight no matter where they started.  As they crested the cliffs, they got a better view of the pyramid rising majestically from the surrounding undergrowth to a height of seventy feet.  The sides were decorated with countless carvings of a bulging-eyed reptilian head adorned with a feathered headdress.
“Tlaloc,” Octurus observed.  “The rain god.”
“Yes, we’ve heard of him,” Mandi said dryly.  She then motioned for the others to land, as they circled towards the base of the cliff as slowly and quietly as possible, yet hidden eyes still observed them.
______________________________________________________

Throgriff was bored.  When he’d initially accepted his current posting from the Society, it had mainly been to save his own neck.  In danger of being executed for insubordination, the tiefling had chosen what amounted to exile instead.  In theory, he was there to represent the Society’s interests, and to make sure that the savages did not waver in their production of the shadow pearls.  In reality, he was superfluous.  Production had continued apace since he had arrived, and his presence seemed to be of no consequence to the demons.  He was bored.  So when the skinwalker came bursting into his quarters babbling about intruders from the sky, Throgriff was intrigued.  Not eager to rush off to face an unknown foe, mind, but intrigued nonetheless.  He ordered the skinwalkers to intercept the trespassers immediately, saying that he would follow.  He had every intention of doing so, but he was not about to go unprepared…
______________________________________________________

When the demons attacked, they made no attempts at stealth.  Howling and shouting, they erupted from the jungle, their leonine second skins roaring as they raised their obsidian-bladed weapons.  This was their first, and last error.  Sepoto and Tower Cleaver moved to intercept their charge even as a fiery explosion erupted in the midst of the fiends, courtesy of Marius.  The trio of skinwalkers was undeterred, but when they tried to dodge past the big warriors, Sepoto’s chain held them at bay while Cleaver’s axe did its work.  The pair were soon joined by Octurus, his blades a whirling dervish of death.  On his own, he struck one of the demons in such rapid succession that his movements were a blur.  All Sepoto and Cleaver saw was the bloodied, dismembered corpse of the skinwalker drop to the ground at the demon hunter’s feet.  Both nodded appreciatively, and then went to work on their own foes.  The remaining demons went down just as quickly, but perhaps not with as much flair.

It was at that precise moment that Throgriff arrived on the scene…much to his regret.  The envoy knew he’d made a mistake and quickly fumbled in his belt for a scroll tube.  As he unfurled the parchment, however, trying to insure his escape, Mandi loosed a jade beam of energy, reducing the tiefling to a pile of dust and gear.
______________________________________________________

Octurus managed to track the skinwalkers back to a group of three ruined buildings with flat, wooden roofs covered with palm leaves.  One of the structures appeared to be a holding cell of some kind, while a second was obviously a barracks for the demons.  The third, however, seemed to have been the quarters of only a single occupant.  Though sparsely furnished, a ledger sat in plain view on a rude desk against one wall.  Mandi retrieved it and quickly flipped through its pages.
“It’s an accounting of the number of victims sacrificed here over the past year,” she said at length.  “One-hundred sixty all told, with twenty-three noted as ‘special.’  There’s something else…” she paused for a moment, her eyes flicking to her companions before continuing.
“The ledger also tracks how many shadow pearls have been ‘sent below’ for completion.  The number for the past year is forty-four.  According to this, all but nine have been sent on to some place called Scuttlecove.  We recovered eight in Golismorga, and the one from Vanthus.  That leaves thirty-five unaccounted for.”
She let the unspoken implication of thirty-five shadow pearls loose in world hang in the air.  
“We best keep moving,” Sepoto said finally.  “If anyone else heard the battle, then our time is short.”
______________________________________________________

They found a clear path leading through the jungle to the pyramid, but when they reached the ziggurat itself, its sides were bare, with no obvious means of entry.  They made their way to the top, where they discovered a massive circular stone disk, its eight-foot diameter face caked with blood.  At Mandi’s instruction, Tower Cleaver hooked his fingers beneath the edge of the disk, and with a heave of effort, dragged it to one side, revealing a large shaft beneath, which descended into darkness.  Once again, the company quaffed their flight elixirs and entered the shaft in single file, flying down and down into the blackness.

They soon realized that the shaft was much deeper than it had appeared, since at the point where they should have reached the ziggurat’s base, it continued on, straight into the earth.  For several minutes, they flew onward, until a blue light from below brought them to a halt.  Bisecting the shaft was a shimmering curtain of azure energy, ghostly shapes swimming within it.  
“The Cerulean Curtain…” Sepoto breathed.  “Where are we?”
“I think I know,” Mandi said, “but let’s keep going a little further.”
They passed through the curtain and continued their descent until, after some ten minutes of flight, they emerged once more into the cavern of Golismorga, directly above the temple of Holashner.  
“This must have been how they delivered the shadow pearls to the kopru,” Mandi observed.  “They in turn took the finished pearls through the tunnels to the troglodytes, who then delivered them to the Kraken Society, presumably to be taken to Scuttle Cove.”
“Then the source of the pearls must still be above, somewhere in the temple,” Sepoto said grimly.
“So it would appear,” Mandi agreed.  “Come.  We’ve still work to do.”
________________________________________________________

The sorceress Teleported herself and the others back to the top of Tlaloc’s Crown and they climbed back down to the jungle floor.  There, Octurus found a second trail, this one wider and more heavily traveled leading back towards the cliffs.  Following the path, the company soon found themselves at a monumental entrance set in the rocky wall between two rows of seven-foot-tall stone slabs.  The monoliths were carved in the likeness of ceremonial Maztican guards.  A pair of fifteen-foot-high stone doors blocked the opening.  The figure of a Maztican warrior with a feathered cloak and a ferocious grin was carved on both portals.

“No, I’ll handle this one,” Mandi said as Cleaver moved towards the doors.  Drawing a slim wand from her sleeve, the sorceress touched one of the portals lightly.  “Alohamora,” she said, and it swung easily open.  Beyond was a long, dark hall, the walls of which were decorated with abstract designs made with brown, red and deep green ceramic tiles.  The group spread out, with Tower Cleaver, Sepoto and Octurus in the lead.  They had gone perhaps thirty feet down the corridor when an audible click came from beneath one of Cleaver’s hooves.
“Not again,” Mandi sighed as a fusillade of spears sprang from both walls, piercing the three warriors.  Tower Cleaver groaned, sagging to the floor as a debilitating weakness came over him.
“Wyvern poison,” Octurus observed, examining one of the spear tips.
“Handle that,” Mandi said to Daelric, waving absently towards the minotaur as she stepped past him.  “Mind your step next time.”

Once the young priest had tended the barbarian, the group continued, finding themselves in a large, squared chamber.  The stone walls of the room were barren of carvings or decorations, but a horrible stench of decay hung heavy in the air.  Three passages led from the area, and the smell seemed to come strongest from the northern most.  Cautiously the company proceeded.  The hall was relatively short, no more than thirty feet in length, and it opened onto an enormous octagonal room that reeked horribly of blood and rotting flesh.  Under a domed ceiling, a great pit occupied most of the floor, leaving a five-foot-wide ledge around the rim.
“What in the name of Savras is that?”  Sepoto asked in disgust as he peered over the edge of the charnel well.  Mandi peeked curiously over his shoulder, and her face contorted with distaste.
“It’s a flesh jelly,” she said.  The bottom of the pit was filled with an immense mass of stinking, fleshy tissue surrounded by a filthy membrane of skin, hair and fur.  As it moved and undulated, a few loose bones inside it pressed against the outer membrane, causing the disgusting body to bulge in places.  
“It’s a scavenger,” she continued.  “Probably used as a wasted disposal system.”
“Should we kill it?”  Marius asked.
Mandi shrugged.  “Suit yourself.  If it came after us we could easily outdistance it.  I’m not overly concerned that it’s a threat.”
“Then we kill it,” Marius nodded, smiling in anticipation.
The others backed away as the war mage worked his magic, drawing a column of flame from out of thin air to slam down into the pit.  The horrid blob below made no sound, but Marius saw it suddenly lunge towards the wall of the well and begin slithering up it.  
“Stubborn one, aren’t you?” the mage said, and then he struck the jelly again with his flaming pillar.  Still it climbed.
Mandi sighed heavily.  “If you insist on doing this Marius, do try not to get yourself killed.  Stand back.”
The gnome obeyed as Mandi cast her own spell, filling the chamber with a rolling, thick fog cloud.
“There,” she said in satisfaction.  “That should immobilize it.  Finish what you’ve started.”
Marius clapped his hands together eagerly and hurled a pea-sized orb of flame into the mist, which then detonated into a fiery ball.  Suddenly, a pseudopod of dripping flesh reached out of the fog and slammed into Sepoto, who stood just at the edge of the bank.  The goliath was rocked back, catching himself against the far wall of the corridor.
“Sorry about that,” Marius shrugged.  “Best not get too close.”   A second fireball followed the first, and this time the horrible appendage shriveled to ash and nothing further stirred within the fog cloud.

After Marius had had his fun, Mandi led the others back through the square room and down another wide corridor on its far side.  This passage branched into a smaller one, running due west about halfway down, but Mandi continued south, intrigued by a strange glow coming from the far end of the corridor.  They passed through a second square room, this one also bare of furnishings, but with its walls almost entirely covered by friezes depicting processions of ancient Maztican priests along pyramid-lined city streets.  The floor was cluttered with hundreds of flat, copper rings, each about two-inches in diameter.
“This was a divination chamber,” Octurus said as he bent to examine one of the rune-carved rings.  “The priests would cast the bands and then commune with the gods.”
Mandi was not interested.  The glow from where the corridor continued on the far side of the room still had her attention.  The hall ran a bit further before ending in a large vault, the domed ceiling of which was supported by a ring of pillars carved in the likeness of tree trunks embraced by coiling feathered serpents.  A cycle of bas-reliefs on the wall represented battles between Maztican warriors and flightless dragons.  The Maztican warriors were led by a heroic archer who wielded a bow that seemed to be made of lightning.  He was crowned emperor after his victory in a carving on the southern wall.  A design of three rings of circles was engraved in the floor.  Three seven-foot-tall stone statues on circular bases had been placed around the circle, one to the west, one to the east, and one to the south.  All three statues represented similar-looking men dressed in imperious robes and wielding scepters.  The western statue’s scepter ended in a sun, the eastern’s in a moon, and the southern’s a star.  Engraved on the floor between these three figures were three rings of circular depressions.  Three stone spheres sat in three of the depressions.  A sphere bearing a carving of a moon sat in the inner ring at the westernmost depression, while a sphere bearing a star carving sat at the southernmost depression of the outer ring.  The third ball bore a carving of the sun and sat in the easternmost depression of the middle ring.

“This is it,” Mandi breathed.  “This is the secret Innersol was seeking.  Daelric, bring out the disc.”
The six companions looked at the stone disc that Jakara had given them, puzzling over the carvings upon it.
“It’s a map,” Marius said at last.  “It’s a map of this room.  You see, these eight circles correspond to the pillars.  The chamber’s entrance is here, at the bottom, and the three figures are the statues.”
“They are Quetzalcoatl, Tezcatlipoca and Tonatiuh,” Octurus observed, pointing in turn to the statues with the star scepter, then the moon and last the sun.
“The bow in the center of the disc,” Mandi said.  “It’s the same one shown on the wall.  It must be here somewhere.”
“Octurus pointed to the image of the serpent coiling around the pillars on the disc.  “This too represents Quetzalcoatl.”
“Yes,” Marius agreed, “and the direction he is traveling is as the hands of a clock move.  And see here…there are images of stars, suns and moons carved around the outer edge…thirteen stars, twelve suns and eleven moons.”
“That must be the key then,” Mandi said.  “Each of the spheres must be moved in a clockwise rotation a number of spaces equal to its number on the disc.”

Satisfied that they’d worked out the riddle, the group quickly repositioned the three spheres.  As the final one was placed, blasts of wind blew through the chamber, and a spray of glittering starlight erupted around the statue of Quetzalcoatl, while a ray of sunlight surrounded the one of Tonatiuh, and a beam of moonlight engulfed the one of Tezcatlipoca.  Each of the Legionnaires then heard voices speaking into their minds.  As the first spoke, the starlight brightened.
“Our worshippers are few, and soon we will move on from this world.  None of our children survive to free our ancient home from evil and rebuild our glorious civilization.  Still, we can help you, strangers, in a fight that is both revenge for the past and hope for the future.  Heed our words.”
Next, the sunlight flared.
“In time of need, call the hawk to hunt your enemies.”
Then, the moon.
“In time of need, call the wood to bend hostile weapons.”
The stars again.
“In time of need, call the wind to down the wings of evil.”
Last, all shown with equal brilliance.
“Take the bow of Macutotnal, hero of the Maztican people and first ruler of Thanaclan, and use it well in your battle against evil.”
The lights then streamed into the center of the room and condensed into the shape of a beautiful bow made of fine wood carved with spiraling motifs and encrusted with diminutive turquoises.  The string sparkled and shimmered with electricity.  It hovered in mid-air as the company stared at it in wide-eyed amazement.  The Nimbus Bow…weapon of the gods!


----------



## carborundum

Alohomora - LOL!

Octurus seems to be earning his keep, and the flesh jelly didn't give them any bother either. They're back on form!

Nice update, JD - thanks mate!


----------



## Hammerhead

Octurus seems to be pretty good (probably much better than a dragon shaman), although it's too bad we don't get a goblin dervish. 

Will the Nimbus be another Alakast, the "ultra-powerful" weapon that is actually quite useless and quickly melted down for something actually useful?


----------



## Joachim

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Will the Nimbus be another Alakast, the "ultra-powerful" weapon that is actually quite useless and quickly melted down for something actually useful?




Ummm...well, maybe.  It's not as bad as Alakast, and has some potentially useful abilities, but no one in the group is terribly proficient with ranged weapons.


----------



## carborundum

Maybe if one concentrates very hard, it turns into a spiked chain  
Okay - unlikely. And in that case, the gods would probably have said "Behold, the spiked chain of the Gods, TA-DAH!!!" or somesuch.

"Flex your left wrist and it eats the foot of those it trips"
"Flex the right wrist and it summons an ally on his hands and knees behind your opponent"
"Flex both and a disembodied hand pushes your opponent backwards ... oops!  HAHAHAHA!"

(Divine schoolboy giggles)


----------



## war wizard

*Congrats*

All hail the conquering heroes, venturing forth to best others of limited social skills and questionable personal hygiene

Queue the music

There’s a little black spot on the die today
Anything but a one
Same old thing as yesterday
Anything but a one
There goes cat-boy mincing like a fop
Anything but a one
There’s a fatty next to me his wind won’t stop


I’ve stood here before in the Con’s milling herd
Intercom crackles can’t understand a word
ATHF is back in case you haven’t heard
It’s our destiny to be the King of Nerds​
congrats again keep up the good work


----------



## JollyDoc

Wow!  Our first theme song!  There's nothing that says "You've arrived!" like a great intro tune!

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER
___________________

1)  Still awe-struck by the total coolness of the Nimbus Bow  , the Legionnaires march on into the temple, and stumble upon a burial chamber.  Octurus's ancestors are none to happy with their scion for bringing his new buddies in uninvited, and they give the demon slayer a firm talking-to (with CON drain!)!

2)  Finally making their way to the entrance of the temple, the group goes head-to-head with a whole pack of skinwalkers, plus their acolyte friends and their chief (and his monkey).  Though taxed from their previous encounters, the Legionnaires make an excellent accounting of themselves, except for Marius, who seems to enjoy life as a lizard...


----------



## Joachim

war wizard said:
			
		

> Queue the music
> 
> There’s a little black spot on the die today
> Anything but a one
> Same old thing as yesterday
> Anything but a one
> There goes cat-boy mincing like a fop
> Anything but a one
> There’s a fatty next to me his wind won’t stop
> 
> 
> I’ve stood here before in the Con’s milling herd
> Intercom crackles can’t understand a word
> ATHF is back in case you haven’t heard
> It’s our destiny to be the King of Nerds​




Wow!  I can almost hear Sting rasping that along...sweet!


----------



## JollyDoc

GHOSTS AND DEMONS

“Does anyone here use a bow?”  Mandi asked, looking skeptically at her comrades as Sepoto examined the weapon.  “No?  I didn’t think so.  And while we’re at it…correct me if I’m wrong here, Marius…but aren’t demons and their ilk generally unaffected by electricity?”
Marius nodded, shrugging.
“Excellent,” the sorceress muttered, looking at the Nimbus Bow with disgust.  “It’s no wonder the Maztican empire became extinct.  No offense, Octurus.”
“I have always felt that my people’s obstinate reliance on antiquated customs is what has kept them mired in their primitive state, the demon hunter stated.
Mandi raised an eyebrow.  “My!  Aren’t you the introspective savage?”
“Wanderlust took me at an early age,” Octurus replied.  “I spent much time among merchants, traders, and the occasional pirate.  My eyes were opened to the world beyond these shores long ago.  My heart aches to see it some day.”
“Careful what you wish for,” Mandi said testily.  “Well?  Where do we go from here?  We solved Innersol’s puzzle, and in my opinion, the priest was better off having died before he was bitterly disappointed by the conclusion of his quest.  So, do we continue to explore this temple, or do we head for some of the inland pyramids?”
“I say we continue to explore here,” Sepoto answered.  “If the Nimbus Bow is here, regardless of its usefulness, then perhaps the answer to our second puzzle is as well…who’s supplying the precursor shadow pearls?”

When no one countered his reasoning, the company backtracked the way they’d come, this time taking a branch passage to the west off the main hall.  The corridor was relatively short, and it ended in chamber draped with cobwebs.  A dozen man-sized niches occupied the north wall.  Ten of the twelve contained mummified corpses propped up in a standing position.  The shriveled bodies wore the rotting garb of ancient Maztican warriors, their feathered, painted shields blasted by decay and obscured by centuries-old dust.  Most of them were also draped with golden masks, earrings, bracelets, pectorals, and other gem-encrusted pieces of glittering treasure.  The west and east wall were dominated by ten-foot-tall bas-relief carvings of Maztican imperial warriors with ritual masks and feathered cloaks.
“This is a burial shrine,” Octurus said, a touch of tension in his voice.  “It was used to inter princes of my people who died before becoming emperors.”
“Yeah, well with all due respect to your people and your rituals,” Marius said, stepping forward and rolling up his sleeves, “I’ve had one-too-many encounters with the restless dead to trust any tomb.  Stand back!”
Before Octurus could stop him, the warmage hurled a tiny ball of flame into the room, which instantly exploded, the conflagration engulfing all of the corpses.  No sooner had the fire died, than eight ghostly Mazticans rose howling out of the floor, closely followed by a pair of giant, spectral warrior-priests who stepped out of the walls.
“I tried to warn you,” Octurus said.

“Curse you, blood traitor!” the spirits hissed at Octurus in Maztican.  “You dare defile this holy place of your fathers?”
“Ancestors, hear me!” the demon hunter shouted, arms outstretched.  “Forgive our trespass!  We seek only the demons who have desecrated your place of rest, to make them pay for their transgression!”
“It is you who have transgressed!” the spirit warriors roared.  “Though demons they be, they have shown us respect!  For your lack of the same, you shall now join us in our eternal vigil!”
“It’s no use!” Octurus said, turning back to his companions.  “They will not be reasoned with!”
“Then they will be destroyed,” Mandi said coldly.  The Maztican’s eyes grew icy, but he understood the truth of her words.  Undeath had corrupted the spirits of his forebears, and evil had taken them.  He would be doing them justice by ending their torment.  Mandi didn’t seem like she was waiting for his permission.  Raising her hands, she wove her magic, sending a wave of apathy over the wraiths, slowing the movements of most of them.  Octurus nodded his approval, and then leaped to Sepoto’s side at the front of the group, blocking the hallway so that the spirits could not attack those still behind.  Drawing his blades, he stepped to meet the nearest wraith, his blades flashing like liquid light, tearing away the shadowy substance that comprised the spirit’s corporeal form.  Abruptly, the two larger ghosts moved, one of them vanishing through a wall, only to appear a moment later in the hallway directly behind Mandi.  Reaching out one clawed hand, it raked the sorceress, causing her flesh to pucker under its deathly cold touch.  The second loomed up before Octurus, leaning its face down to his and inhaling.  The hunter could feel his very soul literally being sucked out of him, and he screamed soundlessly.

Sepoto hated undead, especially the incorporeal kind.  The ghostly forms made his weapon unpredictable, and made his armor a mockery.  Seeing what the mere touch of one of them was doing to Octurus, the crusader quickly spoke a prayer to Savras, calling on his god to shelter his spirit.  Thus warded, he moved towards Octurus just as the other wraiths surged forward.

Marius whirled towards the hulking wraith behind him, a spell on his lips as he moved.  A glowing sphere of pure force appeared in his hand, and he hurled it at the spirit.  As it impacted, the wraith shrieked as the energy of the spell penetrated into the ethereal plane where it was most vulnerable.  

The spirit warriors attacked, wailing and cursing as they came.  Two clawed and rake at Octurus, sending the chill of the grave through his skin, but, mercifully, stealing no more of his life force.  A third darted past Sepoto and clutched at Tower Cleaver, causing the minotaur to gasp as the unearthly cold flowed into him.  Another appeared out of the ceiling above him, reaching and clawing at him.  The barbarian felt animal panic creeping over him, and he struggled mightily to keep at bay, turning the raw fear into blinding, all-consuming rage.

Daelric, huddled invisibly behind Tower Cleaver, realized that he was going to have to risk exposure, or else risk having all of his companions turned to wraiths as he watched.  Standing, he began to pray, summoning the positive energy of health to his hands, and then releasing it over  his companions and the undead.  While the spell soothed the wounds of his allies, its cleansing touch was anathema to the wraiths, and they howled at its burning caress.

Mandi back-pedaled from the looming dread wraith, calling her magic to her again.  A green lance of death struck out, but passed harmlessly through the insubstantial gloom of the creature’s body.  Snarling, she spoke a word, and the belt at her waist tightened, squeezing the breath out of her as it imbued her with power.  Again she lashed out, and this time the beam struck true, completely obliterating the specter.  Digging even deeper, the sorceress cast again, this time snatching Octurus through time and space, dragging him from certain death at the hands of the wraiths, and depositing him in the hall behind Tower Cleaver.  Simultaneously, she transported Marius, Daelric and herself several yards further down the hall and away from the conflict.  As her last spell was completed, she sagged with exhaustion.

The dread wraith that had been savaging Octurus was none too pleased at the sudden escape of its wayward descendent.  Quickly, it sank into the floor, only to reform a moment later in the corridor between Octurus and Marius.  One hand shot out and back-handed the warmage, sending him sprawling.  Then, with a violent hiss, it turned on Octurus once more.  Marius was not so easily defeated, however.  As soon as the creature touched him, his armor flared with light as bright as the sun, shedding the deadly touch of the wraith as it would a blow from a sword.  Rolling to his feet, the wily gnome tossed another force ball, striking the undead horror in the back.  

Tower Cleaver’s fury knew no bounds.  He struck out, seemingly at random, at any shade that drew near, his blade slicing through their ectoplasmic forms as it would flesh, and anything he hit, he destroyed.  In a matter of seconds, five wraiths shredded beneath the irresistible force of his might.  Sepoto could only watch in stunned disbelief, silently reminding himself to kill the minotaur first should they ever end up on opposite sides of a battlefield.

Daelric saw that, though Marius had damaged the large spirit shaman, he and Octurus were still in grave danger.  Seeing the effect that the warmage’s force bombs had on the wraith, he drew on Shaundekal’s favor to create a wall of whirling, slicing blades composed entirely of energy, which sprung up between his allies and the fell creature.  Octurus quickly sprang forward, his scimitar slashing between the tiny blades and into the wraith, then just as nimbly sprang away to a safe distance.  Like a shadow, the specter sank into the floor, only to rise up again on the near side of Daelric’s wall, striking out at the priest.
“Die, heretic!” it screamed, and Daelric knew what death would feel like as unholy power coursed through him.  Then the wraith vanished beneath the floor again, reappearing this time directly behind Mandi, cutting off any escape.

Sepoto was no slouch himself when it came to dealing death, and though he lacked Cleaver’s sheer power, he made up for it in grace and finesse.  Before his whirling chain, the final three wraiths were destroyed.  He turned, only to find Tower Cleaver staring back down the hall, where the rest of his companions faced off against death incarnate.

“Checkmate,” Mandi smiled as the wraith reared up before her.  Snapping her fingers, she vanished only to appear a split-second later where Tower Cleaver had stood.  As for the minotaur, he now stood nose-to-nose with the dread wraith.  Snarling, he raised his axe and dropped it like a guillotine, cleaving the dead priest in two, both halves of its body dispersing into shadow as its spirit departed to its final resting place.

“I must apologize for the actions of my ancestors,” Octurus said when the battle had ended.  “Sometimes, when death comes unexpectedly, the spirits cannot be at peace until they have had their vengeance.  Often this corrupts them, erasing the good people they once were.  I ask you to honor the memory of my fathers by leaving this place as you found it.”
The companions glanced at one another, and then at Sepoto and Mandi.  
“I have no need for gold,” the crusader said at length.
“Nor I,” Mandi nodded.  “Let the dead rest.  We have business with the living.”
_________________________________________________________

A little ways beyond the tomb, the group came upon what appeared to be a small shrine.  The dusty room contained only a three-foot-tall ornate pedestal set against one wall.  Several objects were neatly arranged on the flat, marble surface of the pedestal, around a stone statuette of a hideous, two-headed monster.  The objects consisted of five, ivory rhythm sticks, three inlaid and bejeweled bowls, a crumbling bamboo flute, and the remains of a feather fan.  Mandi bent close to examine the statue.  She was sure it was meant to be some representation of Demogorgon, but it bore subtle differences, such as the fluked tail of a kopru.  She knew that deities, and even some powerful Outsiders had the ability to manifest aspects of themselves on other planes.  Perhaps the statue was a likeness of one.  She shrugged and motioned for the others to keep moving.  Unnoticed by the rest, Sepoto quietly pocketed the statue as he passed.

The corridor wound on, and doubled back on itself just beyond the shrine.  As Sepoto and Octurus continued down it, the floor beneath them suddenly gave way, dropping them into darkness.  They landed twenty-feet below in a partially flooded room which seemed to have been used as some sort of interrogation chamber long ago, complete with bronze chains and shackles, as well as a stone table with a gutter.  A dark hall stretched away to the north, lined on both sides by bronze gates.  
“Sepoto!” Tower Cleaver called loudly from above.  “You okay?”
“Fine!” Sepoto called back.  “We’ll be up shortly!”  Fishing in his pouch, he pulled out two flasks and handed one to the Maztican.  As each quaffed the draught, they took flight, and came to a stop in mid-air before their companions.
“What’s down there?” Mandi asked.
“Torture chamber,” the crusader answered, “and cells.  Not used in awhile from the looks of it.”
“We can always investigate later,” Mandi said.  “Let’s keep moving.”

Tower Cleaver drank his own elixir, and helped Sepoto act as a ferry across the collapsed floor, shuttling the others to the far side.  The hallway continued on, passing through a man-sized breach in a makeshift wall at one point, as if someone had tried to barricade it in the past.  Finally, the passage rounded a corner and ended in a small, round opening, beyond which could be seen a large chamber.  A blazing fire burned under a rectangular hole in the sixty-foot tall ceiling.  To the north and south, flights of stairs led up to balconies that ran along the room’s sides at a height of fifteen feet.  Wooden doors were set into the far walls of both balconies.  A man-sized stone visage, its mouth agape, served as the entrance to the hall from which the Legionnaires approached.  Mandi could see four skinwalkers positioned around the bonfire, facing them with weapons ready.  
“Looks like a welcoming committee,” she said.

The sorceress lowered her staff and spoke a word of command.  A cone of ice and sleet erupted from the end of the weapon, washing over the demons.  Before they could recover, she fired again, and that time two of the fiends collapsed to the floor, their bodies frozen solid.  Using Mandi’s deadly distraction, Sepoto surged into the room, snapping the nearest demon’s neck with his chain.  It was then that he realized he might be in trouble.  Now that he was actually in the chamber, he could see the balcony better…and the eight skinwalkers arrayed there with arrows knocked.  As one, they drew their bowstrings and fired.  Reflexively, the crusader ducked behind his tower shield, letting the missiles bounce harmlessly off.  Before he could rise, however, he heard the telltale sound of spellcasting coming from above.  Turning that direction, he saw another demon directly over him.  The acolyte hurled two rays of scorching flame at him, and though he managed to turn his shield, the fire washed over it, scorching his arms from wrist to shoulder.

Tower Cleaver rushed up to the mouth-like opening into the chamber and saw that it was too small for him to fit through.  Undeterred, he reached on massive arm through, axe in hand, and deftly chopped into the back of the half-frozen skinwalker still standing.  Once the floor was clear, Octurus darted past Cleaver, making for the nearest corner where he was relatively sheltered from the bowmen.  At that moment, all the demons in the room let out an unearthly howl.  It was echoed from on high, somewhere in the distance.  Sepoto quickly leaped into the air, taking flight and closing rapidly to the acolyte above.  Suddenly, one of the doors on the far side of the balcony was flung wide by what appeared to be a large ape.  From out of the door emerged two more figures.  The first was dressed as the other fiends, and quickly moved to take up a position near the balustrade.  The second, however, was a  heavily muscled individual, easily seven-feet tall.  He carried a polished wooden shield in one hand, and a flaming macuahuitl in the other.  Not pausing at the banister, he leaped over, landing nimbly on his feet on the floor below.  Not pausing, he rushed across the room, screaming incoherently, until he reached the carving and stopped, right in front of Tower Cleaver.

Three of the skinwalkers near Sepoto on the balcony dropped their bows and rushed towards him where he squared off against the wizard.  As they came, they drew their weapons, snarling and yowling.  Almost as an afterthought, the goliath flicked his chain at the front two, stopping them in their tracks with its whip-crack speed.  The third fiend nearly stumbled over his brethren, but managed to dodge aside at the last instant and take up a position on Sepoto’s flank.  Simultaneously, the acolyte quickly ducked behind his allies, hurling more fiery rays at the crusader as it went.  Meanwhile, the remaining five skinwalkers followed their leader’s example, and began vaulting the balustrade.  Two closed quickly to their chieftain’s side, while the remaining three charged towards Octurus.  As the first drew near, the demon hunter slashed overhand with one scimitar, opening a horribly gash on the fiend’s thigh.  

The sole skinwalker on the balcony was the one that had come out of the room with the chief.  It gazed down at the battlefield appraisingly.  All of the intruders were engaged, and it was free to pick its targets as it chose.  Leaning over the rail, it could see Octurus hemmed into the corner.  Smiling, it raised its hands and loosed its own volley of fire at the heretic.  Octurus gritted his teeth as the fire burned him, but he did not take his attention off any of his opponents.  On the contrary, he pressed the offensive.  Turning and parrying better than any sword master, he twirled his twin blades in front of him, neatly severing the hand from one of the demons, and then flaying the skin from the fiend’s arm with a cut that would be envied by any chef.  At that moment, a large tattoo of an ape’s head on Octurus’s arm suddenly opened its mouth and roared.  The skinwalkers took a startled step back, and that’s when the demon hunter sprang.  He leaped upon the demon still clutching its bleeding stump and, crossing his swords over his chest, he savagely scissored them apart, rending the skinwalker into pieces.  It dropped in a gory heap to the floor.  Continuing his momentum, Octurus jumped over the fallen demon, and impaled another through the shoulder.

Tower Cleaver still couldn’t squeeze through the door, and he knew he was a sitting duck for the chief and its two minions.  Bellowing in challenge, the big minotaur flailed wildly with his axe.  So furious was his attack, that the chief was momentarily caught off-guard…a mistake it paid for with blood as Cleaver’s axe blade cut it once with a glancing blow across the abdomen, but then sawed into its bicep on the backswing.  Then, to the surprise of Tower Cleaver and the demons, Marius ran from between the minotaur’s legs, calling his magic to him as he entered the room.  His intent was to strike the chief while it was still staggered, quickly and decisively.  The spell he chose was designed to show its victim an image of its greatest fear.  The mere sight of such an apparition was enough to stop the heart of even the bravest soul.  Or so the warmage thought.  The demon chief did not even blink at whatever it was that Marius’s magic had shown it.  Worse, the little gnome had now exposed himself, and was surrounded on all sides.

It was then that Mandi flew into the room, her small, mephit-like form also passing between Cleaver’s legs.  Confused, the minotaur glanced down, wondering what was going to emerge next from his loins.  The nearest skinwalker slashed at Mandi as she passed and gained altitude, but its blow was mistimed, and she flew easily beneath the blade.  When she reached the apex of her flight, she paused and spoke a spell, causing the chief’s muscles to suddenly seize, paralyzing it where it stood.  
“Now, Cleaver!” she screamed.

The fiendish wizard near Sepoto completely ignored him as Mandi’s presence registered a more pressing danger.  It began to cast, but as it did so, Sepoto struck, knocking it off balance.  At the same time, Mandi glanced up and intuitively deduced the spell the acolyte was preparing…Feeblemind, a devastating effect that would render its target, especially if they too were arcanists, with the intelligence of a lizard.  Marius had already fallen victim to it once before.  Seeing their danger, doubled since a second wizard stood on the far balcony, Mandi rapidly cast her own spell, instantly transporting herself and Marius back into the passage behind the carving, while at the same time moving Tower Cleaver fully into the room.

Cleaver howled in triumph as he rose to his full height.  Ignoring the ineffective strikes of the two demons on his flanks, he concentrated on the chief.  Leveling his axe, he swung back, and then across, removing the skinwalker’s head with a devastating blow.  So powerful was the attack, that its momentum carried the minotaur on around in a half-circle where his blade cut deeply into the fiend who stood to his left.  The demon wailed and backed away.  Then, out of the corner of its eye, it saw light flare from within the mouth of the stone visage.  Three streaking gouts of flame came straight at it, immolating it where it stood.  Inside the passage, Marius blew on the tip of his finger.

Octurus continued to disassemble his two opponents.  When one drew too close, the hunter skillfully disemboweled it.  His last foe circled warily at a distance, looking for an opening.  When it thought he saw one, it lunged in, only to find Octurus’s blades in its face, slashing and rending.  Bloodied and half-blind, the demon retreated again, silently wondering if, now that its chief was slain, retreat was an option.

Sepoto took to the air again, sailing over the heads of the three demons around him, and landing on the opposite side of the acolyte.  As he descended, he called Savras’s divine power into his blade and sliced it viciously across the wizard’s midsection.  Spitting curses at the goliath, the fiend backed away, one arm cradling its wounded belly.  Speaking the words to yet another spell, it instantly vanished from sight.  

Tower Cleaver’s attention was momentarily diverted by an animal’s roar approaching from behind.  Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the ape had descended the stairs and was charging towards him on all fours.  Cleaver hated to kill the beast.  He didn’t like hurting animals, who were only acting on their instincts.  Still, he couldn’t let it just maul him, so he struck with brutal efficiency, dropping the creature before it got within ten-feet of him.  Once more, he let the force of his swing carry his blade around, striking the second demon on his opposite flank.  Suddenly, there was movement all around him as two of the skinwalkers who’d been menacing Sepoto abruptly dropped from the balconies.  At that point the minotaur was surrounded…just the way he liked it.  Hefting his axe, he roared his challenge once more.  The sight was terrible to behold for any onlookers.  Like wheat before the scythe, three of the demons went down in rapid succession, their deaths messy and painful.  The final demon stood, eyes wide and staring from beneath a mask of its brethrens’ blood.

Sepoto cursed, and began a prayer to Savras.  As the magic enveloped him like a wave, he flew from the balcony, circling its perimeter, hoping the purging effect of the spell would reveal his invisible foe to him.  Just then, however, he saw the second wizard leap from the balcony and take up a position behind the fire pit and away from Tower Cleaver.  The fiend looked beyond the minotaur and into the hole.  Sepoto could hear the demon cast its spell, but couldn’t see its target, or its effect.  The next thing he saw was Marius dart out of the mouth of the carving, look around like a feral animal, and then, with a cry like that of a wounded badger, streak across the room towards the acolyte.  Then Mandi appeared at the opening as well.  She watched Marius, shaking her head.  She extended her hand, palm out, and a blinding flash of white-light leaped from it to the demonic wizard.  In an instant, the fiend was turned to pure glass.  When Marius reached the statue, he kicked and bit at it until it  overbalanced, shattering as it struck the floor.

Octurus’s opponent saw Marius run across the room, and was after him in a flash, like a cat on a mouse.  As the crazed gnome cavorted across the broken glass, the skinwalker struck, biting deep into his neck.  Marius shrieked and squealed like a trapped animal.  The demon began shaking him back and forth in its mouth, but as it prepared to maul him to death, Octurus was there, ramming his scimitar between the fiend’s shoulders and into its spine.  The skinwalker dropped bonelessly to the floor, releasing Marius who scuttled quickly to a dark corner to lick his wounds.

As Sepoto passed over the fire pit, he saw the other acolyte materialize beneath him.  Shouting in triumph, the crusader dove.  The wizard looked up at the last second, the final thing it saw Sepoto’s chain-wrapped fist driving towards its upturned face.

Only one skinwalker remained.  It looked warily around the room at its dead comrades and hale opponents.  Apparently coming to some decision, it raised its weapon, howled, and ran for the passage where Mandi still stood.  Before it could move ten-feet, however, Cleaver stepped into its path, holding his axe blade forward.  The fiend’s momentum carried it straight into the axe blade, and beyond, almost completely bisecting it.  With its eyes still open, it slid from the blade to the bloody flagstones.


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## Supar

nice update JD


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## carborundum

The whole campaign has taken a turn for the darker and harsher - very tense! Thanks for another great update JD 

What was that tattoo doing? I'll have to dig out that Dragon, I think.


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## Neverwinter Knight

Great update! I love Mandy's sarcastic remarks, I hope she survives until the end! 

I don't know what it is with adventure paths and artifacts, but this bow is rediculous... Why couldn't it have been the Maztican epic spiked chain of death? 

Just finished reading up on the latest dungeon. Too bad that the party does not have Anwar to assist with a certain lady f(r)iend.


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## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER
___________________


1)  After dispatching the skinwalkers, the group presses on to the front door of the temple...only to come face-to-face with the doorman.  Another Legionnaire suffers an unexpected and ultimately anticlimactic death.

2)  Agreeing that the best offense is a good defense, the company retreats to lick their wounds, and decide what to do with their fallen comrade:  loot the corpse, or try to recall the soul from the dead.  

3)  The companions return to the site of their defeat two days later, only to find that a new batch of skinwalkers have moved in since they left, and they are more than willing to throw their support behind the doorman.  Always remember, Blasphemy is a demon's best friend!!


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## LordVyreth

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 2)  Agreeing that the best offense is a good defense, the company retreats to lick their wounds, and decide what to do with their fallen comrade:  loot the corpse, or try to recall the soul from the dead.




That's just silly.  Why not just do both?


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## Neverwinter Knight

Yeah that little doorman can pack quite a punch... I would not have thought the legion would receive so much trouble from this front, though. It would seem very likely that they bring in subsitutes if the PCs leave for two days and be on their guard.

Was bad dice rolling involved or did you catch them off guard, JollyDoc?


PS: Oh, and btw, I think that a magic user got punked this time.


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## Hammerhead

I'd say Mandi. A lot of people in the party don't really care for her, which is why that discussion would emerge in the first place


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## JollyDoc

You guys are making a big assumption that Mandi would ever deign to put herself in the path of danger, although in this case you might not be far off the beam...


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## JollyDoc

ENEMIES AT THE GATE

The six companions made a hurried search of the rooms opening off the balcony which overlooked the grand hall, finding only what was obviously the barracks for the skinwalkers as well as the chief’s quarters and a degenerate shrine with runes etched onto human skins that hung on the walls, singing the praises of the Prince of Demons.  Mandi didn’t bother translating the obscene writings for the others, for she knew that, if they survived, they would be fully immersed in the horrors of the Abyss before very much longer.  All roads pointed there, and the sorceress wasn’t certain if she was more repulsed by that idea, or intrigued…

From their rough sketch of the parts of the temple they’d explored, the Legionnaires guessed that the wide hall leading from the chamber would take them to the front entrance of the temple, the same one they’d bypassed on their flight across Broken Lake.  Nonetheless, they felt the need to investigate every part of the shrine for fear of missing some piece of crucial evidence that would reveal to them the secret of the origins of the Shadow Pearls.  When they emerged from the passage, they found themselves atop a landing overlooking a monumental stairway which descended to several piers extending out into the lake.  Pillars decorated with abstract and intricate carvings supported the ceiling of the area.  In the middle of the cave, two square pedestals to either side of the center steps of the stairway supported the feet and ankles of a collapsed statue that once straddled the stairs.  Some of the statue’s features were still recognizable as the image of Quetzalcoatl in the heaps of rubble scattered on the stairway, most noticeably the feathered texture of a huge pair of wings.  To either side of the passageway from which they had come, leered two bas-reliefs of men with feathered headdresses.  The one to the north showed a man with a brilliant sun over his head, obviously Tonatiuh, while to the south was a man beneath a smoking moon, Tezcatlipoca.

Directly between the two statues was a strange symbol inscribed upon the marble flagstones.  Mandi paused at the entrance, and bent closer to examine it.
“Strange,” she said.  “This looks vaguely familiar, yet I can’t put my finger on it.”
At that moment, the rune flared to crimson life, its glow searing the eyes of the companions with burning light.  All of them felt a sharp, stabbing pain pass through their heads, but just as quickly as it came, it vanished again…for all save one.
“I…I don’t feel so well,” Marius murmured, clutching his forehead.  An instant later, he simply collapsed to the floor.  Daelric quickly knelt beside the gnome, feeling his neck for a pulse and finding none.
“He…he’s dead!” the young priest exclaimed.  “How?”
Mandi looked at the symbol again, comprehension finally dawning on her with horrible clarity.  The rune was a trap, placed there to slay the one who read it and any others who happened to be nearby.  By some amazing stroke of fortune, they had not all been slain instantly, like Marius.  She turned to reveal to the others what she had discovered, but before she could speak, a flicker of movement caught her eye, and she saw her allies staring wide-eyed over her shoulder.  She turned slowly back towards the stairs and beheld a nightmare brought to life.  Looming over them was an enormous, eel-like creature with a mouthful of needle-like teeth.  It had simply appeared out of thin air, and by no magic that Mandi was familiar with.  Abruptly, a sibilant voice spoke directly into her mind and, she assumed, the minds of the others as well.
‘You have made your last mistake, mortals!  The Two-headed One does not suffer heretics and infidels to live!  Now, make your piece with whatever pathetic gods you worship, for tonight you sleep in the Abyss!’
“Ah, soliloquies,” Mandi smiled, “the Achilles’ heel of all demagogues.  Let us put your boast to the test, shall we?”  

The elf wizard began her incantation almost nonchalantly.  Demons were always full of hubris, but, in her experience, they were little more than tough-talking thugs.  The wastrilith before them was probably no exception.  When her spell was complete, she loosed its power at the fiend, mentally willing it to become an eel in fact as well as form.  The magic simply passed through the creature, and that was when Mandi realized they were in over their heads.  The image before them was an elaborate illusion, one that she had studied, but never seen in action, nor had she ever had any desire to, for the phantasm allowed its creator to send spells through it while remaining hidden and unharmed some distance away.  
“We need to go,” she said quietly.  “Now, and quickly.  We cannot best this demon, especially not without Marius’s magic to aid us.”
“What are you talking about?”  Sepoto asked, incredulous.  “It’s just a demon.  So it can cast spells…what of it?”
“You don’t understand, fool!” Mandi snapped.  “You cannot harm that.  It is an illusion, and in the time it would take for us to find its progenitor, it will have killed us all!  Heed my words and gather close to me, or stay here and perish!  I care not.”
She held out her hands and closed her eyes, her spell already on her lips.  Daelric didn’t hesitate.  He seized her left hand immediately.  Octurus glanced at Sepoto, then at Mandi, and then took her other hand, holding out his own to Sepoto.  Tower Cleaver looked questioningly at the goliath.  Sepoto hesitated for a moment, then cursed and grabbed Octurus’s hand and that of Cleaver an instant before Mandi’s spell was complete, and they were whisked through the ether.
____________________________________________________________

“But I want to see Jakara!” Octurus demanded for what must have been the hundredth time, by which point Mandi had long passed the end of her rope.
“I’ve told you that I have my reasons for remaining indoors while we are here in Farshore, and you will just have to accept that.  Remember, we didn’t ask you to join this quest, you asked us, so if you plan on remaining with us, then you’d best start acting like part of a team, or you’ll find yourself facing whatever else is in that temple on your own!”
She turned on her heel and stormed out of the sitting room of her house and into the kitchen.  Sepoto followed her, unobtrusively pocketing a small, glass figurine from a knickknack table as he passed.  

Mandi had transported the group directly to her private residence earlier in the day, and had insisted that none of them go out.  She had not explained herself, and Octurus had been the only one to question her logic.  Daelric was busy with Marius, attempting to recall the warmage’s soul from limbo before it departed to the Afterlife forever.  Tower Cleaver blindly followed the sorceress’s dictates for fear of what might happen if he didn’t.  As for the crusader, he guessed at Mandi’s reasoning, but wanted to hear it from her himself.
“So what’s the plan?” he asked, reclining against a countertop.  
Mandi cut her eyes at him as she sipped from a wine glass.
“Plan?” she repeated.  “The plan is to bring Marius back, if possible, rest here tonight, and get back to the temple in the morning, where we will then proceed to show that doorkeeper the error of his ways!”
“You know what I mean,” Sepoto said calmly.  
Mandi took another drink and sighed, her posture relaxing marginally.
“Yes, I suppose I do,” she admitted.  “The plan also involves not alerting Lavinia or Meravanchi that we are back.  I have several reasons for this.  First, if Lavinia sees that we have returned with our collective tails between our legs, she will lose heart in our mission, and perhaps faith in us.  That might do irreparable harm to our…arrangement with her, and that I cannot have.  Second, if Meravanchi knows, he will use it as a weakness against Lavinia, proof that she is not fit to lead.  For all concerned, the sooner we leave, and the less people know, the better.”
Sepoto nodded noncommittally.  He understood that Mandi had her own motivations for having taken up their quest, and so long as those reasons did not compromise the mission, he didn’t care what they were.

At that moment, their discussion was interrupted by a loud bellow from Tower Cleaver.  Rushing back to the sitting room, Sepoto’s hand on his chain and Mandi with a spell on her lips, they were shocked to see the minotaur giving a huge bull hug to a weak and shaky-looking Marius.  Daelric, looking fairly exhausted himself, stood behind them with a thin smile on his lips.
“Welcome back,” Sepoto said, grinning.  “How was your second trip to the Other Side?”
“Twice as bad as the first,” the gnome gasped, struggling to extricate himself from Cleaver’s grip.
“At least you didn’t come back as an orc this time,” the goliath laughed.
“Small miracles,” Marius acknowledged, dusting himself off.  
“Yes, it is good that you are back,” Mandi said tightly.  “I advise you, and the rest of you,” she looked around at the others, “to get some rest.  We leave at first light.”
“Where are we going?”  Marius asked, puzzled.  
“To avenge your death,” Mandi replied flatly.
____________________________________________________________

Shortly after dawn of the following morning, the Legionnaires materialized back on the front steps of the skinwalker’s temple.  Xerkamat watched them arrive with a savage grin on his shark-like mouth.  The Master had told him they would return.  Mortals were so utterly predictable.  He knew they would fare no better than they had the previous day, but he had taken steps to insure their total annihilation, nonetheless.

No sooner had the six companions gotten their bearings, than the image of the wastrilith appeared before them again.  This time there was no warning given, but Mandi was prepared just the same.  As the illusion solidified, she hurled a dispelling enchantment at it, trying to unravel its weave.  The spell was too powerful, however.  The image flickered for a moment, but then became solid once again.  Cursing, the sorceress darted past the glamer, heading for the water.  She knew that the nature of such a figment required its caster to remain within visual sight, meaning that the real demon must be hiding in the lake.  Just as she reached the water’s edge, however, a bone-chilling cacophony of wails and war cries sounded from within the passage leading back to the entry chamber.  From that direction swarmed a dozen or more skinwalkers, all brandishing their obsidian bladed weapons, the demonic lions that they wore roaring and snarling.  

Marius turned to see the onrushing horde of demons filling the tight passageway, and a smile of pure pleasure appeared on his face.  Cupping his hands together, he blew on them, causing an enormous cone of fire to billow forth, filling the hall.  The skinwalkers shrieked and howled louder, their flesh bubbling and blistering, yet on they came, heedless that the lion pelts they wore still smoldered.  Tower Cleaver stepped to meet the onslaught, dropping the first demon with a casual flick of his axe.  Then Mandi was next to him, shouldering him aside.  The sorceress leveled her staff at the throng, spoke a word, and flooded the corridor with stinging shards of ice.  When the air cleared, every one of the demons lay frozen solid upon the floor.
“I’ll still take credit for that one,” Marius said, tipping his imaginary cap to the elf.  

Suddenly, from behind them they heard the wastrilith speaking arcane words in his Abyssal tongue.  When they turned back, the demon had inscribed a glowing symbol in mid-air.
“Not again…” Marius whispered, but this time when the sigil pulsed, it wasn’t the cold chill of death that gripped the warmage, but a horrible weakness which leached every ounce of strength from his limbs.  Unable to even support his own weight, he collapsed, helpless to the floor.  

“Damn it all!” Sepoto spat.  “We’re sitting ducks like this!  We’ve got to find that thing!”
“Agreed,” Mandi nodded.  “Follow me!  The rest of you hold your ground here!”  
Once more, the sorceress sprinted for the lake, Sepoto on her heels.  Both of them dove beneath the water, their eyes straining against the murk, searching for the demon they knew to be concealed somewhere nearby.

Xerkamat chuckled at the ineptitude of the mortals.  His Master had been concerned for nothing.  Surely such as these posed no threat to one as powerful as he.
‘Watch now, Master,’ the demon hissed with joy, ‘as I kill your enemies one by one.’
‘Do not underestimate them, Xerkamat,’ his Master replied.  ‘They have taken down mighty opponents.  Do not trifle with them.  Kill them quickly!’
Just then, Xerkamat heard the tell-tale scuffling of invisible boots, then the chanting of a prayer.  As he watched, the gnome’s strength returned, and he was able to lever himself to his feet.  Once more the wastrilith smiled broadly at the futility of their efforts.  Then he spoke a single word…

The sheer power of the demon’s utterance struck Marius, Daelric, Octurus and Tower Cleaver like a hammer blow.  The foulness of the word sent a numbing wave through their limbs, rooting them all in place, stunned and dazed.  Worse, the dark magic sapped all of their strength this time, not just Marius’s.  Having just recovered from the last assault, Marius collapsed again.  Unseen next to him, Daelric felt his vitality ebb as well, and he too fell heavily to the flagstones.  Just when the Legionnaires thought things could not get much worse, they did.  From the corridor flew two more skinwalkers, adorned much like the others had been, yet they carried magic with them.  Acolytes!  As they emerged from the mouth of the hallway, they sent rays of scorching fire at the helpless Marius and Tower Cleaver.  
“Yes!  Slay them and bring their corpses to me!” Xerkamat shrieked triumphantly, but then his Master spoke again.
‘The goliath and the sorceress draw near.  It is time for our ruse to end.  Prepare yourself!’
A moment later, Xerkamat found himself transported inside the great entry hall, looking back down the corridor towards his minions and their prey.  The illusory image of himself had vanished.

One of the acolytes strolled casually over to Marius.  The gnome could not even look up at his soon-to-be killer.  He could only stare at the demon’s boots.  Then, he felt himself rising into the air as the skinwalker lifted him in its arms and began moving back towards the hallway.  He was being taken to the wastrilith, and there was not a thing in the world he could do about it.

Sepoto breached the surface of the lake, catching his breath.  He glanced back towards his companions as he prepared to dive again, and his mouth fell open.  Tower Cleaver and Octurus were just standing there, stricken.  As he watched, a skinwalker hurled beams of fire at the minotaur, and the big barbarian did not even try to move out of the way, allowing the rays to strike him full in the chest.  A second skinwalker had Marius and looked to be carrying the warmage towards the entry hall.  At that moment, Mandi surfaced beside him.  When she saw the predicament of the others, she shook he head and barked out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush.  
“Hold on!” she said to Sepoto finally, after regaining her composure.  Grabbing the goliath by one arm, then pointing the other towards Marius, she spoke her spell.  An instant later, Marius lay on the ground near the lake’s edge, while Sepoto found himself  in the arms of the acolyte, much to the skinwalker’s surprise and dismay.  
“Do you mind?” Sepoto asked, and the demon abruptly dropped him.  The crusader landed on his feet, and whipped his chain free of his belt.  Suddenly, he was struck by two powerful waves of magic.  The first, he could feel, was stripping away his precious defensive wards, while the second, stronger one stunned him just as it had done to his colleagues.  

Mandi watched in horror as Sepoto was immobilized.  They were going to die to a man, she thought in terror.  Even as she saw this, the second acolyte blasted Tower Cleaver again.  The minotaur’s flesh was raw and seared, smelling like cooked steak.  As the skinwalker prepared to cast again, Mandi struck, sending a blinding beam of white light at the fiend.  As it touched the demon, its entire body turned instantly to crystallized glass.  Then Tower Cleaver roared, having broken free of the blasphemous magic.  Hefting his axe, he swung with all his might, shattering the crystal statue into a million fragments.  He then turned towards the corridor, preparing to follow the first acolyte, who by that time had retreated to the side of the wastrilith.  No sooner had the minotaur taken a step, however, than the larger demon opened his tremendous maw and breathed out a billowing cone of steam and fire that washed over both Cleaver and Sepoto.  

At that point, Sepoto found he could move again.  Ignoring his own pain, and slapping Cleaver on the shoulder as he passed, he started down the hallway, the minotaur close behind.  Mandi had reached the mouth of the passage as well, and as she started down it, she pulled a sharp stick from her belt pouch, jabbed it into her thigh, and hurled words of righteous fury at the wastrilith, attempting to rebuke it back to the Abyss that had spawned it.  Xerkamat felt the potent magic wash over him, momentarily dazing him, but not killing him instantly, as had been intended.
‘Do not fear,’ his Master said.  ‘Though you are incapacitated, I am not.  Victory shall still be ours!’

Sepoto and Tower Cleaver had almost reached the entry chamber when the acolyte stepped from around the corner and the corridor exploded in fire.  The crusader dove forward, speaking a word which caused the boots that he wore to flare with heat.  A moment later he rolled to his feet, un harmed and behind the wastrilith, having stepped between dimensions momentarily.  

Behind her, Mandi glimpsed Daelric and Marius climb to their feet, having recovered more slowly from the dark magic.  She didn’t have time to worry about them, however.  To her utter astonishment, the supposedly helpless wastrilith hurled a dispelling field around her, causing several of her powerful enchantments to evaporate.  As she looked down at herself, she saw the skin of the infernal barbed devil that she wore slowly evaporate, to be replaced by her own, vulnerable flesh.  Then the skinwalker was before her, a spell forming in its mouth that would leech her mind away.  Panicking, Mandi activated her own boots, willing herself out of the hall and back to the relative safety of the foyer.

Sepoto spat out the words to his own spell as he gripped his blade in both hands.  The barbs on the chain curved wickedly, and began to drip blood on the floor around him.  Calling Savras’ name, the crusader struck at the wastrilith, his weapon slashing deeply into its diseased flesh.  Xerkamat felt pain, real pain and he cried out in agony and fury.  From inside his mind, he felt his Master seize his magic and invoke it through his still paralyzed body.  Tower Cleaver suddenly felt his axe being wrenched from his hands, but at the last moment, he tightened his grip and pulled back against the unseen, telekinetic force.  Snorting, mucous flying from his nostrils, the minotaur drew back his axe as far as his arms would reach, and then brought it around in a deadly arc, its blade slashing deep into both the skinwalker and the wastrilith, their foul blood hissing as it touched the ground.  A split-second later, a column of white fire erupted from the ceiling above the demons, engulfing them.  Tower Cleaver turned and was stunned to see Daelric standing fully revealed behind him.  For a moment, doubt gripped the barbarian.  Just how dire were their straits that the priest had decided to join the battle?

“Stand aside!” Marius screamed from the mouth of the passage.  “It’s payback time!”  Calling up the arcane version of the miracle Daelric had just performed, the warmage created a fiery column twice the size of the priest’s.  Wailing in agony, Xerkamat beseeched his Master.
‘What shall I do?  I am undone!’
‘Flee, fool!’  his Master replied.  ‘I still have work for you!  Flee now!’
Only needing to be told once, the wastrilith vanished from the field of battle, reappearing a mile away within the depths of the lake, where he sank into the gloom to heal his wounds and bide his time.

The lone skinwalker knew that it was doomed, but it was determined to die well and take one of its opponents with it.  Focusing on the wounded minotaur, the demon hurled fire at the brute again, striking Cleaver in the eyes with one well-placed blast.  Blinded and in pain, Tower Cleaver swung around him crazily.  His blow, however, was a lucky one, but not for the acolyte.  The demon watched, wide-eyed as its body was severed in two at the waist.
_____________________________________________________________

As the company made their way back through the temple, they found it to be deserted.  No other occupants, besides the skinwalkers, had taken up residence in their absence.  In fact, they discovered nothing else of use to them as they explored the upper level.  Rooms were empty, save for an ancient untriggered trap or two.  Ultimately, they realized that if there was anything else to be learned about the temple and its mysterious source of Shadow Pearls, they would find it below.  They had several choices of ways to descend, but ultimately they chose a set of stairs they found hidden behind a secret door in a chamber that contained a single hunk of raw wood placed as an altar.  The shrine and the floor near it were sticky with swaths of mostly dried blood.  The trail of blood led from the altar to the section of false wall.  The choice seemed obvious.

Descending the steep stair, they found themselves in a large chamber flooded with murky, rancid-smelling water.  A bas-relief figure of a feathered serpent was carved as a single frieze that ran on the walls near the ceiling.  Three passages led from the room, two flooded and one dry.  As they debated on which exit to take, the water in the room began to churn in three distinct areas.  Rising from the fetid pool were three, large toad-like creatures, their skin glistening with slime and blood, their claws clicking together as they snarled through dagger-like teeth.
“Octurus,” Sepoto said softly over his shoulder, “I think we’ve found something worthy of your attention…”


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## Supar

good update JD i am very much ready to see wht our demon slayer can do to some real demons


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## Neverwinter Knight

> “Do you mind?” Sepoto asked...



Picturing this made me squirt orange juice through my nose! 

Too bad you guys didn't take out the Wastrilith. He'll be a bitch to deal with.


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## carborundum

Great update! These are some tough encounters! How long do they take in RL? Are the guys disheartened by the hordes of nasty beasts and the deep doo-doo situations, or loving it?


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## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Great update! These are some tough encounters! How long do they take in RL? Are the guys disheartened by the hordes of nasty beasts and the deep doo-doo situations, or loving it?




Believe it or not, we gamed last Sunday and were stoked because we could go late, Monday being a holiday and all.  Well, these encounters that you just read took us from approx. 5pm to 1am to complete!  Disheartened?  Nah!  This is what these guys live for!


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## carborundum

Sweet! We only usually get about three and a half hours, but we've got a weekend coming up soon. Can't wait to try out my new swordsage!


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## Aracase

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Too bad you guys didn't take out the Wastrilith. He'll be a bitch to deal with.



Joe can expound on this more than I can, but the Wastrilith is CR17 in the Fiend Folio and for this encounter they gave it more hit dice, better saves, better BAB and let it cast TWO spells per round, one of those spells as a 20th level caster.

At this point you might think "Wow if we survive this well get great xp."  Unfortunately they lowered the CR of the monster to CR15 for this encounter.  Joe was kind enough to as least give us xp for the CR17 version.  

As we told Joe at the game, its fun to fight hard monsters we just wanted compensation for what we were fighting.


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## JollyDoc

Yeah, I'm going to have to check the Paizo boards to see if anything's been posted about this issue, although in the past, the response has been that the CR's of FF monsters was overrated.

SUNDAY TEASER
_______________

The dungeon crawl continues with the battle of the Hezrou and Octurus is excited to show off his mad demon-slaying skills.  Unfortunately, hezrou's stink...badly.  Oh, and they can cast Blasphemy.

Expounding on the theme of Octurus is the new whipping boy, he stumbles into a pool of green slime, then becomes the food of choice for an ochre jelly...a big one.

Not to be left out, Sepoto decides to join Octurus for their next encounter, where they are locked in a room together...with four clay golems!!  Oh, and did I mention that the totemic demon slayer gets blinded by his own party member in the midst of said melee??  
A novel solution to the golem problem is concocted by the two Seekers in the group...a little trick they like to call The Oven...


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## Neverwinter Knight

Aracase said:
			
		

> Joe can expound on this more than I can, but the Wastrilith is CR17 in the Fiend Folio and for this encounter they gave it more hit dice, better saves, better BAB and let it cast TWO spells per round, one of those spells as a 20th level caster.
> 
> At this point you might think "Wow if we survive this well get great xp."  Unfortunately they lowered the CR of the monster to CR15 for this encounter.  Joe was kind enough to as least give us xp for the CR17 version.
> 
> As we told Joe at the game, its fun to fight hard monsters we just wanted compensation for what we were fighting.



Sorry, but you have raised high expecations of doing the impossible...


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## JollyDoc

BEWARE THE THING THEY CALL THE BLOB
___________________________________

Before any of the companions could move, the nearest demon hurled a wave of unholy power into their midst.  Instantly, Tower Cleaver sagged, his tongue lolling and his eyes glazed over.  To the surprise, and relief of the others, though the blasphemous spell had given them all a momentary feeling of nausea in the pits of their stomachs, it had passed just as quickly as it had come.  But then the other two fiends struck.  The power they unleashed was more like a hammer blow than a wave, and as it impacted, Sepoto, Marius, Cleaver and Mandi felt it like a physical jolt.  For Mandi it was worst of all, for the sorceress wore the diabolic shape of a barbed devil, beings who were the mortal enemies of all things demonic and thus susceptible to the fiends’ unique form of chaotic magic.  

“Kill them!” she rasped as she drew upon her own magic to temporarily slow the reflexes of the lumbering hezrous.  Sepoto nodded, leaping into air and flying above the surface of the flooded chamber.  As he soared towards one of the demons, he suddenly smelled the nauseating aroma of rotten fish mixed with raw sewage and sulfur.  The stench made his gorge rise and he hesitated for a brief moment.  Still, when he regained his composure and swung his chain, the weapon’s holy power crackling as it touched the fiend’s skin, the hezrou bellowed in pain, its flesh burning from the anathemous wound.

Octurus could feel his blood burning.  This was what he had been bred for, what he had been waiting his whole life for.  Drawing his twin scimitars, he surged through the water, moving through it easily, as if it were air.  As he ran, a large tattoo of a deinonychus on his right bicep rippled and roared.  At the last second, just before he reached the hezrou, he leaped high into the air, pouncing on the demon like a cat.  The fiend swung at him, cuffing him roughly across the jaw, but the demon hunter never paused, not even when the nauseating reek of the Abyss filled his nostrils.  His blades spun and slashed, one of them opening a horrible wound on the hezrou’s face from brow to chin.  Under the devastating assault, the demon crumpled, sinking back into the murky water.

At that moment, the two remaining demons struck again, the impact of their magic hammering Sepoto and the still-dazed Tower Cleaver.  Sepoto turned towards the pair, but Octurus was a half-step ahead of him.  This time, however, as the Maztican warrior ran at the hezrous, the combined odor of their horrid stench overwhelmed him, causing him to wretch violently and uncontrollably.  Just then, Tower Cleaver lumbered past Octurus, the second blast of demonic magic having shaken him from his stupor.  Ignoring the foul aroma (honestly, it smelled no worse than his herd’s den back home), the minotaur slammed into the nearest demon, rocking it back on its heels with the force of the impact. 

Suddenly, the air erupted in flames as Marius flicked his signature pea-sized mote of fire into the chamber.  The inferno engulfed the two demons, crisping their moist flesh, but leaving them largely unharmed due to their Abyssal nature, having been bred among fires much hotter.  What they were not prepared for, however, was the thin ray of blue light that Mandi sent at Cleaver’s opponent.  As the ray struck, the demon stumbled, seemingly unable to control its own extremities, clumsily flailing them about in all directions.  Frustrated, the creature furrowed its brow, and once again the surge of chaotic energy swept across the room, buffeting Cleaver and Sepoto once more.

“Cleaver, break right!” Sepoto shouted as he passed Octurus and flew towards the unengaged demon.  As he struck, Tower Cleaver did as well, side-stepping his clumsy opponent and burying his axe into its thigh.  The demon shrieked, a cry which went an octave higher when a glowing orb of shimmering force flew from Marius’s hand to strike it mid-groin.  Almost reflexively, the demon loosed its own magic, and the wave of unholy power washed over Cleaver a second time, once more addling his thoughts and unfocusing his eyes.  Marius saw all of this in an instant, saw the demon moving in for the kill, and he whipped a second orb of force towards it.  This one struck the fiend full in the face, and when the explosive blast cleared, the decapitated demon toppled backward.

Sepoto darted towards his opponent in a series of quick feints.  Try as it might, the hezrou could not lay hands on the goliath, even as more and more wounds opened in its own hide, bleeding profusely.  In desperation, it used its innate magic one last time.  The big crusader seemed to shrug off the pain, and launched himself at the fiend, slashing and ripping with his chain until the beast ceased its struggles and sank into a growing pool of blood.
_______________________________________________________________

Daelric tended to the wounds of his allies, and Octurus’s nausea passed quickly.  Still, the Maztican was shame-faced at his weakness, despite the fact that he had almost single-handedly taken down one of the demons himself.  Thus, as the company resumed its exploration of the catacombs, the demon hunter remained sullenly quiet.

They made their way down a flooded hall off the southwestern corner of the chamber, and soon found themselves in familiar territory.  A passage to their left contained six cells, three on a side and closed by bronze gates.  At the end of the hall was the abandoned torture chamber Sepoto and Tower Cleaver had fallen into when the floor above had collapsed.  Proceeding past the area, the companions soon entered a long hall, its center section separated from the rest of the corridor by a raised area covered with pale fungus.  
“It’s harmless,” Mandi said as they approached the platform.  “Just cave lichen.  Nothing to worry about.”
“I’ll lead on from here,” Octurus abruptly announced, the first words he’d spoken since the battle.  Sepoto shrugged and motioned for him to proceed.  The demon hunter nodded, and stepped back into the water on the far side of the raised area.  Immediately, he felt a sickening, burning pain shoot through his feet.  Stifling a cry, he leaped out of the water, back onto the riser.  Looking down, he saw that his boots were coated in a sickly, green slime-like substance.  Worse, it was dissolving the leather of his footwear and starting to eat its way through his flesh as well.  
“Stand clear!” Marius shouted to the others.  “Sorry my friend, but this is going to hurt you a lot more than it’ll hurt me!”  He grinned savagely as flames poured from his outstretched fingers, immolating Octurus’s feet.  The Maztican cried out in pain, but as the fire vanished, he saw that the slime had been incinerated, along with most of the skin on his feet.  He glared angrily at Marius, who just shrugged.
“At least you’ve still got your feet,” the gnome said.  “Which is more than you would have been able to say if I’d let the slime have you.”

As Daelric began mending Octurus’s burns, Mandi peered down the water-filled hall before them.  Undoubtedly, the entire floor beneath the water was coated in the acidic slime.  She could dimly make out, at the hall’s far end, a closed, wooden door.
“Alohamora,” she said as she brandished her wand.  A moment later the door clicked open, and immediately the water in the passage began rushing that direction.  Soon, they could see the floor, and Mandi had been correct; it was literally covered in the verdant fungi.  Once more, Marius had a solution.  Conjuring a large ball of flame, he sent it rolling down the passage, up and back repeatedly until every vestige of the saprophyte had been burned away.

Once the path was clear, the group proceeded on.  Beyond the opened door, they found a small room that contained a stone desk carved in the likeness of an ancient Maztican head with a flattened top.  The walls of the area were fitted with stone shelving, with many stacks of clay tablets piled on them.  A cursory glimpse of the tablets revealed them to be ancient archives detailing the history and day-to-day life of lost Thanaclan.
“These would be of great value to my people,” Octurus observed.
“I’m sure,” Mandi said noncommittally.  “Marius and I would like to study them as well.  The Seekers are always looking for new sources of information about ancient cultures.”  She left out the part ‘so they can loot them,’ but what the Maztican didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

The archive chamber was a dead-end, and so the Legionnaires backtracked to the chamber where they’d fought the hezrous, and took the northwest passage.  This hall was also flooded, and it was slow going as the company slogged through the chest-high water.  Marius rode comfortably on Tower Cleaver’s shoulders.  Several two-foot wide tunnels opened along the walls of the corridor, some just over the water level, while others were near the ceiling.  A powerful, bitter stench emanated from the holes.  Just as the group passed between the small tunnels, a horizontal geyser of thick, yellowish slime erupted from several of them.  As luck had it, the ooze landed directly atop Octurus, engulfing the Maztican in a thick cocoon and then constricting around him, squeezing the air from his lungs as its viscous body began digesting his skin.

“Don’t strike it!”  Mandi yelled as she realized the nature of the ochre jelly.  Such parasites were not uncommon in underground environments.  They were deadly and tough to kill, since any weapon that struck them would cause them to split into two identical organisms!  No, brute force would not avail them here.  Magic was the only solution, but first things first.  Chanting a spell, the sorceress deftly plucked Octurus from the clutches of the ooze, magically transporting him several yards back down the hall, along with herself and Daelric, while at the same time moving Tower Cleaver, Marius and Sepoto in the opposite direction.  Once everyone was clear, she gave the word, and Marius loosed a barrage of scorching rays of fire at the jelly, while Daelric simultaneously called down a column of white-hot holy flame.  Moving much more quickly than its form belied, the ooze dove beneath the water, leaving only a faint ripple in its wake.  

“Damn!” Mandi cursed.  She knew the thing could be headed in any direction, only to come up from beneath them again.  She thrust her staff under the water, uttering its command word and sending a jet of ice up the long tunnel, hoping to catch the jelly in its blast.  Meanwhile, at the far end of the hall, Sepoto, Tower Cleaver and Marius found themselves in a small, bare chamber with one door on the far side.  Cleaver’s animal instincts had taken over and the minotaur only wanted to get as far away from the unseen, flesh-eating ooze as possible.  Desperately, he began pounding on the door, only to find it stuck fast from years of swelling.
“Something just went past my leg!” Sepoto shouted from the entrance to the corridor.  
“Hurry it up!”  Marius called down to Cleaver, still beating on the door.  The little gnome flicked another small ball of fire into the water near Sepoto, where it abruptly erupted into an explosion of steam and boiling water.  

“Brace yourselves!”  Mandi shouted from the far end of the hall.  Seeing Cleaver’s difficulty with the door, she brandished her wand again, and with a casual flick of her wrist, opened the portal.  Instantly, the water began rushing through the door.  Mandi, Daelric and Octurus could feel its pull, but easily resisted it.  Tower Cleaver and Sepoto, however, clung to the door frame for dear life as the deluge rushed past them like a raging river.  Within the churning water, Sepoto saw the viscid form of the ooze tumble end over end through the doorway, down a short hall on the far side, and then down a steep flight of stairs.

Once all of the water had drained, the company regrouped, evaluating their choices.  The hall beyond the door branched onto a second passage just before reaching the stairs.  The stairs themselves were long, and descended into darkness.  Somewhere down them, the ochre jelly might still be alive.  It didn’t take much convincing for the majority to elect not to follow the ooze.  Instead, they turned down the secondary passage, but stopped almost immediately when they nearly stumbled into a five-foot wide circular well that opened in the floor in front of them.  Waves of heat, hot vapor and a loud bubbling sound emanated from within it.  Carefully, the group edged past it and continued on.

The hallway turned sharply south and ended at another door.  Beyond this, it continued south, seemingly taking them back the way they’d just come.  After a hundred feet or more, it dead-ended in a room that was tiled with blue ceramic of various hues.  Small puddles of water dotted the floor, and the walls were lined with ancient Maztican statuary…lithe human figures and fiendish beasts with snake-like bodies and multiple arms.  The statues were badly deteriorated, in some cases scarcely recognizable beyond a vague body shape.  There were twelve statues in all, each standing nearly ten-feet in height.  A stone trapdoor was set in the middle of the ceiling, although any means of reaching it had long since rotted away.

Sepoto and Octurus were the first to enter the room, and no sooner had they done so than a bronze portcullis slammed down behind them, sealing them in the chamber, separated from their companions.  An instant later, four of the more misshapen statues lurched to life and lumbered towards the two warriors.  Sepoto struck out at the nearest one as it approached, sending clay bits flying like terra cotta.  Octurus leaped towards the same one, his scimitars dancing and slicing, yet each of his blows was turned, as if he’d struck a stone wall.  

“Golems!” Mandi shouted from the other side of the portcullis.  “The same kind we faced in the Temple of Celestial Winds!”
Realizing the brutal, unhealable wounds the constructs could inflict, Mandi acted fast, spitting out the words to a spell and filling the air in the chamber with glittering motes of dust. The effect was immediate.  Two of the golems began swinging about wildly, blinded by the magic.  Unfortunately, Octurus also clutched at his eyes as the blinding motes stole his own vision.  
“Cleaver!  The gate!”  Mandi commanded.  The big minotaur happily obliged, raising his axe above him and smashing it down at the portcullis.  The bronze bars buckled and snapped beneath the force of his swing.
“Get out now!”  Mandi shouted to Octurus and Sepoto.

Octurus heard the direction of the sorceress’s voice, and immediately somersaulted towards it, his instincts guiding him where his eyes could not.  Sepoto was close behind, making a fighting retreat and holding the behemoths at bay with vicious slashes of his chain.
“Now, Marius!”  Mandi called.  In response, the warmage conjured a rolling cloud of fire which engulfed everything in the chamber.  No sooner had the spell manifested, than Mandi added her own magic, sealing off the room with an invisible, and impenetrable, wall of pure force.  

For several minutes, the Legionnaires waited as Marius’s spell burned itself out.  Occasionally, a large fist would emerge from the fog bank to pound impotently on the unseen barrier, but in time, even this ceased.  Finally, the fire fog dissipated and the companions gathered at the force wall and peered into the chamber.  The four golems stood inert, their once rough, clay hides now heat-glazed ceramic.


----------



## Schmoe

Awesome!  Incendiary Cloud is such a great spell, but it needs a little support to truly shine.  Nice work on the golems.

Oh, and poor Octurus seems to be the new party whipping-boy.  Samson was remarkably resilient in that role, hopefully Octurus does a little better and manages to come through alive.


----------



## JollyDoc

Schmoe said:
			
		

> Awesome!  Incendiary Cloud is such a great spell, but it needs a little support to truly shine.  Nice work on the golems.
> 
> Oh, and poor Octurus seems to be the new party whipping-boy.  Samson was remarkably resilient in that role, hopefully Octurus does a little better and manages to come through alive.




Believe it or not, this was actually an energy substitued acid fog!  The warmage is versatile, you have to hand it to him.  Octurus is a damage dealing machine.  He could give Tower Cleaver a run for his money in that department, especially since he threatens with a 15 or higher.  The problems is his hit points, constitution and saves.  He's quick and hard to hit, and deadly in a one-on-one fight, but if he ever gets tagged by the right combo, he's not long for the world.  Witness the assault by the dread wraith, which was only seconds away from transforming Octurus into a wraith as well.  Likewise the ochre jelly.  If Mandi had not saved him, it was going to pull him through one of those little two-foot wide holes to digest at its leisure.  Ever see the remake of the Blob?


----------



## carborundum

Nice work guys! Nice to see the tried-and-trusted lock ém in and burn em up tactics. Not so nice - green slime UNDER the water! Nasty nasty 

Thanks for another great (and early) update JD!


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## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER
___________________


Whoa momma!  What a session we had last night, friends and neighbors!  The Legion continued their exploration of the temple, beating down a few kopru blow-hards here and there, but still they wanted to keep going just a little further before they rested...and you know what happened next!  Oh yeah!  The crew stumbled straight in to the Big Daddy's lair!

What transpired then was truly epic, constant readers!  It was a battle for the ages as the Legion took on Khala the Two-headed and a few of his close companions!  Who lived?  Who died?  Who ran like a little girl?  Who saved the day?  Tune in for our next update for the answers to those questions and more in an episode I like to call, "Never Leave a Man Behind" !!!!!!


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## Neverwinter Knight

If this does not deserve the header Sunday Night *Teaser*, I don't know what. 

But JollyDoc, would you have made it any easier on them, if they had tried to rest? 

My guesses:
_Who lived? _Sepoto (he always does, too versatile)
_Who died? _Octurus (low hp, one-shot-wonder)
_Who ran like a little girl?_ Tower Cleaver (smelly cow has crappy save  ) 
_Who saved the day?_ Mandy (she always does - maybe she now has a two-headed goldfish)


----------



## Aracase

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> My guesses:
> _Who lived? _Sepoto (he always does, too versatile)
> _Who died? _Octurus (low hp, one-shot-wonder)
> _Who ran like a little girl?_ Tower Cleaver (smelly cow has crappy save  )
> _Who saved the day?_ Mandy (she always does - maybe she now has a two-headed goldfish)



I'm not going to ruin JollyDoc's update, but your predictions are not correct.


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> If this does not deserve the header Sunday Night *Teaser*, I don't know what.
> 
> But JollyDoc, would you have made it any easier on them, if they had tried to rest?





Probably not    Khala has a whole island of skinwalker mooks to round out his canon fodder.


----------



## Aracase

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> It was a battle for the ages as the Legion took on Khala the Two-headed and a few of his close companions!



We had this [censored] beat and the fight almost won, but then James Jacobs stepped in and bitch slapped us down....hard.


----------



## demiurge1138

Aracase said:
			
		

> We had this [censored] beat and the fight almost won, but then James Jacobs stepped in and bitch slapped us down....hard.



But... but... James Jacobs didn't write this adventure!

Demiurge out.


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

demiurge1138 said:
			
		

> But... but... James Jacobs didn't write this adventure!
> 
> Demiurge out.





But he had something to do with it. We blame everything on James Jacobs make's it easier


----------



## Leinart

Well I dont think sepoto dies that just doesnt seem possible and I think octurus probably lived...I dont know other than that.


----------



## JollyDoc

Leinart said:
			
		

> Well I dont think sepoto dies that just doesnt seem possible and I think octurus probably lived...I dont know other than that.





I guarantee the answers to your burning questions will surprise you completely!!


----------



## Schmoe

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> But he had something to do with it. We blame everything on James Jacobs make's it easier




Haha.  That's funny.  

Of course, I'm sure that he probably sleeps better knowing that players around the country curse his name every time a PC dies.  

I remember reading this adventure and thinking it was pretty awesome, but it was so long ago that I don't really remember the details (other than the Julajimus.  I mean, who can forget the freaking Julajimus?).  I'm really looking forward to seeing how this all played out.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Damn, I forget how much our timezone's ahead. Can't wait for the update after all these teasers.


----------



## JollyDoc

NEVER LEAVE A MAN BEHIND!

The golem trap was another dead-end.  It seemed the ancient Maztican temple was full of such wrong turns.  The six companions retraced their steps until they had once more reached the site of their battle with the hezrous.  There was only one more unexplored exit from that place…the dry corridor which led due east.  They ascended a short flight of steps before reaching a broad landing.  Life-sized clay statues of ancient Maztican warriors armed with spears stood at the four corners of the open area.  All wore high helmets and feathered shields.  The tips of their spears, the feathers, and other details had crumbled to dust and long-since fallen off.  Sepoto never hesitated.  Stepping onto the platform, he swung his chain at the nearest statue, shattering it into hundreds of pieces.
“Just checking,” he shrugged.  “You can never be too sure.”

A single, long corridor led south from the landing, and following it, the Legionnaires soon found themselves in a sparsely furnished, square room.  Sitting near the walls were eighteen three-foot tall urns.  Leaning against one wall were two long-handled fishing nets, harpoons and prying bars.  Mandi motioned Tower Cleaver towards the nearest urns.  The minotaur obeyed, twisting the top off of one of them.  He peered inside, sniffed, and then made a face of disgust.
“Stinks,” he said.
“Ok, kettle,” Daelric snorted.  Marius peered over the barbarian’s arm into the urn and saw a viscous, rancid-smelling liquid.  It was disgusting, yet somehow familiar.  He moved to another one of the vases and opened it.  Inside that one was a shuddering, red mud, and in the next was a mass of twitching, headless insects with too many legs.
“Take a look at these,” he said to Mandi.  The sorceress came closer and examined the contents.
“Abyssal,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“I agree,” the warmage nodded.  “But what’s their purpose?”
“Food for the demons?”  Mandi shrugged.  “Who knows?  It’s obvious there are no shadow pearls hear though, so let’s move on.”

Again, only one passage exited the strange room.  It gave onto a short landing, and then a narrow flight of stairs leading down.  At the bottom of the stairs, the group found themselves in a natural cave, the floor of which was hidden by shallow water.  Hundreds of oysters of various sizes clung to the rock formations near the walls.  Six of them had grown enormous, nearly five feet across with black and red striped shells covered with curved hooks and twisted horns.
“Fiendish oysters???” Marius said, incredulous.  “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“I guess we know what all that muck was for,” Mandi replied.  “Looks like we found the breeding ground for the pearls.  Cleaver, if you would be so kind?”
The big minotaur shrugged again and waded out into the pool.  When he reached one of the demonic mussels, he gripped both valves in his hands and pulled, his sinews straining.  With a sickening pop, the oyster opened, revealing a partially formed black pearl the size of a grapefruit sitting inside.  Unfortunately, as soon as the shell was opened, an ear-piercing shrieking emitted from the oyster, echoing throughout the cavern.

Within moments, from a tunnel on the far side of the cave, three creatures entered, responding to the alarm.  They were instantly recognizable as kopru.  Though larger than the ones they had encountered in Golismorga, they were smaller than the great behemoths, but their eyes shown blood-red, and horns jutted from their foreheads.  Around their necks, each wore a piece of coral, carved into the unmistakable symbol of the cult of the Prince of Demons.  Before the creatures could do more than step into the cavern, however, Mandi sprang into action, calling her magic to her hands.  In seconds, a thick cloud sprang up around the kopru and rapidly congealed into the consistency of tar.  The creature’s found themselves all but immobilized, barely able to move inside the solid fog.

“You set’em up!” Marius laughed as he summoned his own spell, creating a long wall of slashing, glowing blades right in the middle of the fog bank.  
“Hey!  You stole my idea!”  Daelric protested, as he added as second barrier of blades in the cloud.  There was nothing more to do at that point but wait for the inevitable.  The koprus howled and screamed as they struggled to escape their death-trap, but their efforts were ultimately futile.  In less than a minute, the twin walls of death sliced them to ribbons.

Once the kopru had been dispatched, the companions pried open the remaining giant oysters and gathered up the black pearls.  Octurus then systematically went from mussel to mussel, carving the meat out of them with his scimitars.  Their shrieking ceased as each one died, and the demon slayer simply watched, impassively.
_________________________________________________________

Following the passage down which the kopru had come, the Legionnaires came upon a flooded cave with limestone formations that had been shaped into bizarre furniture, which included a semi-submerged table.  On the table were dozens of elongated flasks and vials filled with transparent colored fluids, which Marius identified as various chemicals used to stimulate pearl growth in oysters.  At first, the chamber appeared to be another dead-end, but Octurus spotted a completely submerged tunnel on the far side, which wound down even deeper into the earth.  Mandi had the company pause before entering the passage so that she could imbue all of them with the ability to breathe water.

Single-file, they swam down the flooded conduit, until it opened into another completely flooded cave full of more of the strange, limestone furnishings.  It was obviously a living area for aquatic creatures, with algae beddings and fluorescent fungi lamps.  The three kopru inhabitants looked shocked and alarmed as Mandi glided into the room.  Before any of them could react, the sorceress sent a sizzling, green ray at the nearest, reducing it to a pile of dust instantly, which drifted away on a swirling eddy.  As the other two kopru rose from their seats, Octurus darted past Mandi, moving easily through the water as one of the tattoos on his back pulsed rhythmically.  When he reached the fiendish beasts, his blades went to work, slashing and stabbing, all-but disemboweling his opponent.  Tower Cleaver closed to the second, his axe flashing as it slashed across the kopru’s midsection.  An instant later, an arc of fire, burning impossibly bright beneath the water, flared from Marius’s hand and scorched both of the still-stunned creatures.  The battle ended moments later when Sepoto joined Tower Cleaver, the combined blows of the two warriors quickly silencing the kopru, while Octurus’s opponent abruptly transformed into a small dog which subsequently died an agonizing death by drowning.  Mandi grinned evilly at Octurus, and the demon hunter wasn’t certain which was the more fiendish, his enemies or his new allies.

Several more submerged tunnels branched off the small cave, and the companions chose the nearest one, which ran due east, at random.  As they swam down the passage, the water temperature began to rise noticeably, becoming uncomfortably warm as the tunnel widened ahead of them.  Abruptly, the water before them changed to boiling hot mud, and they found their skin blistering as they struggled to swim up through the tar-like substance.  They gasped for breath as they finally broke through the surface, finding themselves in an enormous volcanic grotto.  The air was steamy and foul with noxious vapor and the floor was a field of bubbling mud pots, geysers, hot springs and mineral crusts.  Rich reds, browns, and yellows, combined with blacks and grays, vied for dominance in the churning, bubbling morass.  Terraces crusted with deposits from mineral springs extended from the sides of the cavern at several points, and here and there formed stable-looking walkways and bridges over the spluttering mud.  Stalactites hung down from the ceiling, merging with stalagmites in two places near the center of the grotto to form pillars.

The six adventurers had emerged in the center of one of the mud pots, and they quickly clambered out onto one of the stone bridges to escape the scalding goo.  So large was the cavern, and so thick the steam, that if anything living dwelt there, it was all but invisible.  Through a momentary part in the mist, however, they saw an ancient throne positioned on a high terrace at the far end of the grotto.  Atop it sat a mineral-encrusted skeleton, bone and stone fossilized together.  Across the corpse’s lap, equally encrusted by minerals was a large axe.  The companions began moving towards the throne, but Octurus hung back a bit, his sharp eyes scanning the pools around them.  Thus it was that only he spotted the mostly-submerged kopru as it darted across one of the pools towards his unsuspecting comrades.  Shouting a warning, the demon hunter sprang around the edge of the mud pot, moving nimbly across the slick stone.  As the creature rose up silently behind Marius, Octurus struck.  The flat of one blade cracked across the kopru’s broad brow, sending it reeling backwards.  It flung up one clawed hand instinctively to ward itself from another blow, but the Maztican’s second blade sliced off the appendage neatly at the wrist.  Shrieking, the kopru made to dive beneath the surface of the mud, but Octurus stabbed down with both swords, the blades crossing in a deadly X, severing the monster’s head before it could escape.  

Unseen beneath the surface of the mud, two more kopru’s observed the death of their foolish brother.  Nodding silently to each other, they swam deeper, towards a passage at the bottom of the pool.  They had to warn Khala.

While the other Legionnaires voiced their thanks and approval to Octurus, Tower Cleaver reached the throne.  Reverently, he grasped the haft of the greataxe, pulling it free from its stony prison.  As he did this, the blade flared to brilliant life, shining with the light of the sun itself.  The minotaur felt power pulse through his arms, and he bellowed a challenge for all to hear..
____________________________________________________

Khala listened as the kopru told their tale.  Of course he was already well aware of the intruders’ presence since their first encounter with Xerkamat, but it displeased him to know that they had penetrated so far into his domain, and that they had destroyed his oysters, the source of the priceless black pearls.  Still, he was not unduly troubled by their imminent arrival.  In fact, he anticipated it.  His Father would be pleased if Khala removed this potential thorn in His side before it became worthy of His attention.  
“Let them come,” he growled to the kopru.  “Their blood shall provide the basis for a new crop of shadow pearls!”
_______________________________________________________

 The Legionnaires stepped from the tunnel into what appeared to be an enormous shrine.  The forty-foot high ceiling arches were supported by eight massive, square pillars, which also separated the central part of the hall from two balconies.  Four passages, including the one they had just come from, opened on each of the balconies, which ran fifteen feet above floor level on the long sides of the hall, and which were accessed by flights of stairs at the north and south ends.   The main entrance to the hall, a monumental arch at the base of a great stairway up on the north wall, was completely obstructed by rubble.  The patron deity of the shrine was represented by a twenty-foot tall statue which stood by the south wall near a smaller entrance.  The statue had been damaged by age and moisture, and a large crack had split its face.  The effigy stood before a platform that extended over a pool full of foul water and floating algae.  On the platform itself was a four-foot tall dais of black stone, with a melon-sized black pearl on the top.  As the pearl appeared to throb with eldritch power, waves of magical ectoplasm seemed to reach from the pool to envelop the dais.

Two of the demonic kopru hovered in mid-air at opposite ends of the shrine, but what drew the immediate attention of the company was the creature that stood before the raised dais.  It was vaguely humanoid, with broad shoulders and saurian legs.  Its flesh was mottled black and dark green, with a light green and yellow belly.  Frog-like skin with patches of bristly black hair adorned its shoulders and hips.  Its arms were boneless and tentacular, but ended in three-fingered hands with large, black talons.  Its tail was long and powerful, splitting into three flukes like that of a kopru.  Although it had two heads, its two fanged, baboon-like faces ran together in one oversized and horrific maw, although in the middle between the two sets of jaws, its gullet was gaping and toothless.  From it, a long, tentacle-like triply-forked tongue writhed.

‘You are welcome, and expected,’ a hissing voice spoke into the minds of the Legionnaires.  At their surprised expressions, the voice chuckled evilly.  ‘You will bear witness to the birth of one of the seeds of the Prince of Demon’s grand design, but more importantly, your life’s blood will be the midwife that will usher in this birth!’
Khala’s tentacles flailed, as he ripped an instantaneous rift in space and time into the Abyss, from which he called one of the great servants of his kind.  The retriever appeared as an immense spider with four, glowing, multi-colored eyes.  It manifested just at the edge of the balcony on which the six companions stood, its rear legs standing in the pool below.  

An instant later, the dark pool of water began to churn as six crocodile-like demons broke its surface.  Two of them immediately scaled the walls to the balcony and scuttled towards the group.  As they approached, a wave of power emanated from them, and as it washed over Octurus, the demon slayer felt his muscles grow lax and jelly-like, slow to obey his commands.  One of the demons lunged for Sepoto, seizing the crusader’s leg in its jaws and shaking it back and forth, like the crocodile it resembled.  Behind the goliath, Tower Cleaver roared, foam slinging from his mouth.  Shoving aside both allies and enemies, he barreled out onto the ledge, his new axe blazing with light as he swung it.  When it struck the demon that had Sepoto, the fiend shrieked and skittered back several feet, releasing the goliath as it eyed its new opponent warily.  

Just then, the two flying kopru dove toward Tower Cleaver.  The minotaur saw them approaching and launched himself into the air, his flight enchantment carrying him aloft.  As the first kopru reached him, it sank its fanged maw into his shoulder, biting viciously.  Cleaver roared again and prepared to rip the creature’s head from its shoulders, but at that moment, Khala wove another spell, and as it enveloped the minotaur, Cleaver felt the magical wards and protections around him begin to fail, including the one that held him in the air.  Slowly, he sank back towards the balcony below.

Despite his handicapped reflexes, Octurus was not about to back away from a chance to kill a demon, with his bare hands if he had to.  He leaped towards the second demon on the ledge, and slipped his scimitar into the soft fold of skin beneath its neck as it raised its head to snap at him.  Blood spurted in a black spray as the fiend howled, shaking its head back and forth, trying to dislodge the blade.  A moment later, Sepoto ended its struggles with a flurry of brutal cuts from his whip-like chain.  With a grunt, he kicked the beast over the edge of the balcony, and with the same movement, whirled towards the enormous retriever, slashing into its rock-like carapace with another might swing of his chain.

Marius crouched within the mouth of the passage, trying to avoid the frenzy of steel, teeth and claws raging just feet from him.  Peering over the balcony, he saw the other four skulvyn’s, for that’s what the crocodile demons were, swimming ever closer.  In a few moments, they would be literally awash in demons.  He gathered his focus, calling the words of his spell to his lips.  A small ball of fire zipped out over the water, and then detonated like Greek fire hurled into a lake of pitch.  The flames spread almost to the far side of the cavern, engulfing four of the nearest skulvyns, as well as the retriever and one of the kopru.  When the blast exhausted itself, the skulvyn that remained on the balcony was burned to a cinder, pungent smoke rising from its ashen carcass.  

Once Marius had cleared the balcony, Mandi moved forward, but she had gone no further than a handful of steps when the blue eye of the retriever settled upon her and crackled with energy.  A bolt of electricity sizzled from it, setting her hair on end and momentarily stopping her heart.  Still jittering, she continued to stalk forward, her staff gripped tightly in her twitching hands.  When she reached the edge of the balcony, she pointed it in front of her and unleashed a blast of freezing air, ice and snow.  The cone struck the skulvyns in the water below, as well as the retriever and one of the nearby kopru.  The latter froze solid from the blast, and dropped like a stone into the water below, floating there like a monstrous ice berg.  

By that time, the four skulvyns had reached the base of the balcony, and began to climb.  The retriever positioned itself to cover their approach, but in doing so, it brought itself in close proximity to Tower Cleaver.  Still enraged, the minotaur chopped at the beast, his axe flaring once more as it crushed the demon’s thorax.  In a flash of smoke and brimstone, the retriever vanished.  The last kopru took the opportunity to dive at the barbarian’s unprotected flank, but at the final second, Cleaver spun, cutting the fiend in two.  His momentum carried him towards the edge of the balcony, and looking down, he found himself staring directly into the eyes of one of the climbing skulvyn.  Snarling, the minotaur began hacking at the scaly horror.

“We’re wasting time here!”  Sepoto shouted to his comrades.  “The true threat is there!”  He pointed towards Khala.  “Hold them off and cover me!  I’m going in!”
With that, the crusader soared into the air and sped over the pool, towards the dais and the demon standing there, waiting for him expectantly.  Sepoto shouted Savras’ name as he attacked, his chain slicing Khala’s flesh…but only leaving a minor flesh wound.  Khala roared with insane laughter, the cacophony amplified by his twin maws.  Flailing his tentacles again, he focused his power on the crusader, ripping Sepoto’s magical protections from him.  Sepoto sank to the ground at Khala’s feet, his ability to fly dispelled.  With another twin roar, Khala struck, teeth and claws raking at the goliath with brutal abandon.

“You heard the man!”  Marius shouted.  “Cover him!”  The warmage then wove his magic, summoning a column of flames to smite Khala as he loomed over Sepoto.  The demon hissed in anger, his four eyes locking onto the gnome and marking him.  Meanwhile, Octurus moved to engage the first of the skulvyns to heave itself over the balcony rail.  His scimitar whickered through the air, opening a gash from the demon’s chin to its brow, then thrusting forward, impaling the fiend’s brain, dropping it as if pole-axed.  Likewise, Tower Cleaver continued to pummel the skulvyn attempting to climb past him, finally ending it and watching it drop back to the dark water below.  Then a third demon reached the landing, and Octurus was in motion again.  His reflexes seemed to be responding better, and he danced like death incarnate, slashing at the skulvyn more times than mortal eyes could count.  The fiend slumped to the floor, bleeding from numerous deep gashes.  The demon slayer looked around for his next victim.

“Enjoy your impotence, mortal,” Khala jeered scornfully at Sepoto as he rose into the air and beyond the goliath’s reach.  “After I’ve flayed your friends alive, I will return to give you my full attention.”
The great fiend then soared across the pool, heading straight for the landing where the remaining Legionnaires were gathered.  As he came, Marius flung another spell in desperation, striking Khala with a glowing ball of force.  Khala’s twin faces roared, the duel bellows shaking the very stone upon which the heroes stood.  Then a second spell struck him, and Daelric suddenly shimmered into view as his invisibility cloak vanished.  At the same time, the flight dweomer that Khala had cast upon himself ended prematurely, and the demon sank slowly into the pool until he was standing knee deep.  
“You are pathetic!” he taunted.  “Is this all that you have?  I can’t believe even the meanest of my minions fell to such feeble attempts!  I am not even certain that your blood is worthy of sacrifice to my Father!”

Several things happened at that point. With a roar of challenge, Tower Cleaver vaulted over the balcony railing, landing in the water a few feet away from Khala, his shining axe gripped in both hands, a look of pure, feral rage in his red eyes.  At the same moment, the last skulvyn lunged for Octurus, its whip-like tail opening a deep gash along his floor arm, which began weeping blood like tears.  Octurus turned towards the demon, but abruptly, his eyes locked with those of Khala’s left head.  In that instant, the Maztican demon slayer knew fear as he’d never known it before.  In those eyes he saw the promise of eternal torment and damnation, of all that he’d lived for amount to ashes, of those he had loved debased and in agony for all eternity.  Unaware of where he was going, or what he was doing, knowing only that he had to get away, to flee before terror was all-encompassing, Octurus turned, and ran.

Sepoto fished in one of his belt pouches and quaffed another flight elixir, all while watching what was transpiring on the other side of the shrine.  He saw Octurus leave.  He saw Tower Cleaver rush towards the demon, his axe an arc of light.  Though the blade struck true, the fiend hardly seemed to notice.  He saw Marius fling sizzling beams of flame at Khala, which only seemed to enrage him further.  He saw Khala rise into the air once more, batting aside one of the deadly disintegration rays that Mandi was so lethal with as if it were nothing.  Khala moved towards the ledge, and Daelric hurled holy fire at him, engulfing the skulvyn as well.  Still, the demons refused to succumb.  Khala was among his comrades by that point, and it would only be a matter of seconds before the dieing began in earnest.  Sepoto couldn’t delay any longer.  Leaping into the air, he streaked towards Khala’s back, his chain a blur of steel before him.  Crying out incoherently, he struck the fiend full on, the force of the blow sending numbing pain down his arms.  An explosion of white light filled his eyes, blinding him for an instant.  When his vision returned, however, Khala was nowhere to be seen.  Instead, rearing up before him and his companions was the wastrilith, the same one they had fought, and be forced to flee from at the temple entrance.  At that moment, Sepoto knew despair.

They were dead.  Mandi knew this as well as she knew her own name.  Both her magic and Marius’s were all-but depleted, and Daelric’s own divine power was suited more for defense.  Octurus was gone, and though Sepoto and Cleaver could still fight, she knew what was coming next.  Knowing that it was futile, she triggered her staff again, sending shards of ice at the wastrilith and the skulvyn.  Marius tried Mandi’s own trick of disintegration, an act of desperation, and no more effective than her own attempt had been.  And then it happened.  The wastrilith opened its mouth and spoke one word, one terrible, blasphemous word.  An instant later, Marius had collapsed to the floor, directly in front of the skulvyn, his strength weakened to the point that he could not even support his own body weight.  Daelric was in the same state.  Sepoto and Tower Cleaver still stood, but were staring blankly and open-mouthed, dazed into submission.  The battle was lost.  Alone among her allies, Mandi could still function.  Laying one hand on Marius, and the other on Tower Cleaver, she shouted so that her companions could hear, though if they would be able to act on her words, she had no idea.
“Flee if you can!  Come to where we met before!”
And then she was gone, taking the minotaur and the warmage with her.  Sepoto and Daelric were alone.
_________________________________________________________

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed.  He wasn’t even certain of his location.  All that Octurus knew was that he was himself again, but instead of bringing him relief, the realization brought nothing but shame.  He had abandoned his friends, left them to die.  Just like his tribesmen had died.  Worse, he had run in the face of the one threat he had trained all his life to battle.  The humiliation almost left him catatonic with despair.  But then he knew that if he could not live with such a burden, then he must die in the only way that might bring him some measure of redemption.  He would die avenging the deaths of those he’d left behind. 

He began to run, legs pumping and heart beating a measured cadence.  Down dark halls and flooded chambers he ran, past the pitiful remnants of his ancestors’ bygone civilization.  Deeper into the earth he went, a sixth sense guiding him back the way he’d come.  Finally, he found himself in the volcanic grotto, and he nimbly darted across the natural bridges and through the tunnel on the far side.  There, he stopped.  Up ahead he could see the shrine, but it was not the two-headed demon that waited for him there, but instead the eel-like fiend they’d met at the front stairs.  Octurus was confused, but he did not let that interfere with his duty.  He saw Daelric sprawled a dozen yards ahead of him, the skulvyn looming over him, tearing great chunks of flesh from his body.  Not knowing whether the priest lived or not, the demon slayer darted forward.  The skulvyn’s eyes went wide as it saw him approaching, and involuntarily, it took a step back.  Octurus seized the back of Daelric’s tabard, and hauled the priest back down the passage, depositing him on one of the ledges overlooking the grotto.
“Sepoto…” he heard the priest wheeze.
“You…you’re alive?” Octurus said, incredulous.
“Sepoto…still…back there,” Daelric whispered.  “Others…gone.  Help…Sepoto…but the…demon…its voice…”
Octurus understood immediately what Daelric meant.  He had borne firsthand witness to the power of the wastrilith’s magic.  This time, however, he had a solution.  Calling on his own small store of magica, he wove a spell of silence about him, engulfing himself in the total absence of sound.  He patted Daelric reassuringly on the shoulder, then turned back towards the shrine.

Xerkamat was untroubled that some of his prey were escaping.  They weren’t his concern.  Khala had called Xerkamat here to die in his stead, but the wastrilith intended to show his master he was of more value than that.  He still had one plaything left, and while he kept the goliath helpless with his unholy speech, he called the skulvyn to come and begin devouring the wretch alive while Xerkamat looked on and enjoyed the entertainment.  His surprise was great, therefore, when he saw the Maztican savage coming back down the corridor again.
‘Excellent,’ Xerkamat thought.  ‘More amusement.’  
The human leaped off the balcony and landed in the pool, interposing himself between the goliath and the skulvyn.  Xerkamat failed to notice that the warrior made no sound as he hit the water.  The wastrilith only understood what was happening when he spoke his word of blasphemy again, and couldn’t even hear his own voice.  Rage filled him as he saw the goliath free himself of his torpor and rise into the air.  Xerkamat summoned more of his magic to his mind, ripping the magical silence from the Maztican, as well as any other enchantments he might have.  Then he opened his mouth again, this time to speak the last word either of his victims would ever hear.

“Octurus!  Jump!”  Sepoto shouted.  The Maztican, ten-feet below, looked up.  Gathering himself in a cat-like crouch, he sprang into the air, wrapping his arms around the crusader’s ankles.  Sepoto was in motion the second Octurus’s feet left the ground.  Flying as if Demogorgon himself was at his back, the crusader made for the great stairs on the far side of the chamber.  A moment later, he and Octurus were beyond hearing of the wastrilith, and they streaked through the empty halls of the temple, desperate to reach the surface and reunite with their companions.
___________________________________________________

Daelric lay on the floor of the grotto, steam obscuring his vision, barely daring to breath.  He could not hear the sounds of battle any more, and he was not certain he wanted to know what that meant.  Slowly, he felt his strength returning, and when he felt he could stand again, he quickly twisted the ring on his finger, vanishing from sight.  Then, as quietly as he could, he made his way across the misty grotto toward a narrow flight of stairs on the far side.  Glancing once behind him to make sure he was not pursued, he darted up the stairs disappeared into the darkness.


----------



## Joachim

Yeah, that last fight pretty much sucked.  Were it not for some last second James Jacobs ridiculousness (whatever that contingency effect was) Khala would have been dead and we would be moving on to the next module.  That's what you get when you meet the BBEG at ~10%-15% of your daily resources.

Oh well...I guess we have some unfinished business to attend to.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Wow, that was...close. I wonder what you will encounter when you return after your rest. Or, the real question should be: Is JollyDoc going to let you rest? 

Thanks for this great update!!!


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER
____________________

Revenge is a sweet, and the Legionairres serve it up hot to a certain aspect of Demogorgan!  Buffed, primed and ready for action, the group heads back to the City of Broken Idols for a little payback...in spades!  And not only for Khala, but for his lapdog Xerkamat as well!  It's the Legion as you know and love them, kickin' a$$ and takin' names!

Then its back to Farshore for some well-deserved shore leave, but all is not well in their idyllic town.  Trouble's afoot when Lavinia turns up missing, and if that weren't enough, a certain Meravanchi scion makes his long-awaited return!


----------



## carborundum

Wow, that was indeed a close one! They certainly gave a good account of themselves for being so low on resources - makes you realise just how powerful they are.
And they didn't take any ... nonsense ... from the kopru either 

The update sounds ...awesome. Sit down, JD, relax, start typing, take your time, flesh it out, bring it on...


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

> ...a certain Meravanchi scion makes his long-awaited return



Beautiful!!! Can't wait for this one - one of Anwar's greatest deeds, after all.


----------



## gfunk

How was Khala avoiding Mandi's disintegrations?  Was it SR or high AC?


----------



## Joachim

gfunk said:
			
		

> How was Khala avoiding Mandi's disintegrations?  Was it SR or high AC?




Really high saves.  He took the 5d6 damage, but it wasn't enough to disrupt his spellcasting.


----------



## Supar

kahal would have been better off doing some withdrawing himself guesse he got cocky b/c he got served. We took precautions against him and his little pet. sadly we own so hard we eidnt even use them..... 3k down the freakin drain


----------



## JollyDoc

Our STAP game is going to be on a brief hiatus for the next two weeks, so I am going to space out the update for this time into two episodes.  I hope to get the first one up this weekend.  Thanks for your patience.


----------



## JollyDoc

REVENGE…

Khala knew that the infidels would return.  They had somehow managed to piece together the details of his Father’s grand design, and now they meant to disrupt it.  Little did they know that their feeble attempts would amount to little more than a delay, in the grand scheme of things, but his patron would be most displeased in any event.  Therefore, it was Khala’s intention to make examples of them, so that no others would disturb his rituals.  He had all-but emptied the skinwalker thorps on the island, and Xerkamat had been alerted as well.  No…this time he would be ready, and there would be no survivors!
_______________________________________________________________

The Legionnaires appeared in a circle surrounding Mandi, standing on the same balcony where they had first viewed the great shrine.  Miraculously, they had all managed to find each other the day before, and even more miraculous, they had all lived to tell the tale.  Their defeat had been a telling blow to their confidence, and a much-needed wake-up call in regards to the nature of their own mortality and short-comings.  There had been many recriminations and second-guessing through the long night of their recuperation, but in the end it had simply come down to the fact that they had been arrogant and too certain of their own heroism.  They were now painfully aware that it was no game that they played.  Powerful forces were on the move, working towards some as yet unknown goal.  The only certainties were that the production of the shadow pearls had to be stopped, and that whatever or whomever was behind all of these machinations was intent on stopping the Legion and their allies at any cost.

So it was that when they made their second foray into the shrine, they were neither surprised nor alarmed to see a horde of skinwalkers arrayed along the balconies that flanked Khala.  A lone skulvyn swam languidly in the black water below.  No, in fact the Legionnaires were eager, if such a thing were possible.  They had prepared themselves in anticipation of what they knew would be a winner-take-all battle, and they were determined to stop the demon, or die in the attempt.

Khala turned, laughing as they appeared, but his twin smiles quickly faded as Mandi spat out the words to one of her many incantations, and an incandescent beam of light flared from her palm and struck the demon-spawn about his legs.  Instantly, Khala felt his lower extremities grow numb, and when he tried to move, his feet betrayed him, tangling themselves and causing him to pitch forward, barely catching himself on the altar before he struck the floor.  He was still struggling to regain his balance when a second wave of energy washed over him from the sorceress.  For a moment, his heart lurched to a shuddering halt, and the great fiend knew fear.  The instant passed, but his wits where still dazed…confused.  He couldn’t seem to gather his thoughts into coherent form.  Disorientation shackled him.

“Just where we want him,” Mandi grinned sadistically.  She had one last trick up her sleeve before her prodigious expenditure of magic left her weak and shaken.  An emerald halo surrounded Khala, and though there was no visible effect, Mandi knew it had worked perfectly.  The demon was now dimensionally bound.  There would be no fortuitous escape for him this time.

Sepoto’s time had come.  He had known Mandi’s plan and had waited, muscles vibrating with pent up expectation.  Once the final spell had been cast, the crusader threw himself over the balcony, and soared through the air, his chain a whirling vortex before him.  With a cry to Savras, he struck at the dazed fiend, slashing into Khala’s flesh with abandon.  Though the demon’s stone-like hide resisted the full power of his blow, it was still rent asunder, and fiendish blood flowed like black sap.  Closing his eyes, Sepoto focused himself…centered his being.  When he opened his eyes again, power flowed through him, and he struck again, and again, and again.

Techuatil’s eyes went wide.  He could not believe that he was seeing what he was seeing.  The skinwalker acolyte had thought this duty a mere formality, confident that his lord could handle any threat that the mortals posed.  Now he was watching his master barely able to stand, being beaten at the whim of one of the infidels.  Techuatil could not allow it.  If his tribesmen saw Khala go down, their will would break, and they would flee like cattle.  Thinking quickly, the acolyte rushed to his master’s side, and laid one hand upon the reptilian skin, uttering guttural words as he did so.  A moment later, the demon faded from view.  It was a temporary solution at best.  Techuatil knew that the intruders would figure out his ruse sooner or later, but at least it would buy time.

Daelric, a master at invisibility himself, knew immediately what the skinwalker had done.  Darting across the balcony to where Tower Cleaver stood braced to follow Sepoto, the priest laid one hand on the minotaur’s shoulder and spoke a brief prayer.  He watched, smiling as Cleaver’s eyes began to glow, and his mouth gaped open in wonder.
“I see…everything!” the barbarian exclaimed.
“Can you see the demon?” Daelric asked, as if speaking to a small child.  Cleaver nodded.
“Good…then kill him!”  the priest commanded.
Tower Cleaver snarled in approval and soared aloft, streaking towards Sepoto and the still addled Khala.  

By that point, the skinwalkers had realized where the true threat lay, and at Techuatil’s command, they began converging on the central platform.  All of them had the ability to fly, thanks to Khala’s tactical genius.  Like a great flock of demonic vultures, they rushed at Sepoto.  The goliath saw them coming, however, and braced himself.  As they swooped and dove at him, his chain was a blur of motion, striking out seemingly at random, but connecting unerringly when it did.  The demons screamed and howled, but not one of them could get within striking distance of the goliath.  At that moment, a bestial roar from behind drew their attention.  Turning, they beheld the awesome sight of Tower Cleaver descending upon them, axe upraised.  As he plowed into them, his blade swung in a great arc, slashing into a pair of the skinwalkers as well as Khala himself.  Sepoto gave his back to the flying demons as he felt the spray of dark blood wash over him.  He still could not see the fiend, but when he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could visualize an outline of his enemy, and it was at this that he struck.  Each time he felt his weapon impact solidly, and each time he saw the image in his mind’s eye shudder from the impact.  Though Khala could not scream, he knew pain like he’d never experienced before.

Mandi knew that they had very little time before Khala shook off the effects of her spell.  She intended to use every precious moment to maximum effect.  Chanting, she began flinging flaming blasts at the spot where she still guessed the demon to be.  She saw the rays impact…something, and from the amount of blood appearing out of thin air courtesy of Cleaver and Sepoto, she thought she had guessed correctly.

Techuatil was beginning to panic.  With the way things were going, his lord wouldn’t last much longer.  The acolyte knew he had to even the odds somehow.  Concentrating on the rampaging minotaur, he prepared a spell, intending to weaken the great beast so that its blows would be less effective.  As the words left his mouth, however, he himself was struck by a massive wave of divine power.  Turning, he saw the priest of Shaundekal smiling at him from the far balcony, obviously pleased with himself at having disrupted Techuatil’s plans.  Snarling, the acolyte began casting again, but before he could even form the words to his next spell, he saw the gnome wizard already in motion.  A massive explosion of fire suddenly ripped across the central platform, hurling Techuatil some twenty feet across the room.  When his head cleared, he saw three of his tribesmen lying dead on the flagstones. 

Not all of the skinwalkers had gone to Khala’s aid.  A handful flew toward the balcony where Mandi, Daelric, Marius and Octurus still stood.  As the nearest approached, the Maztican warrior rushed to meet it, his scimitars weaving their deadly pattern, sending the demon screaming back into the air.  As Octurus paused to catch his breath, he saw something truly horrifying.   The skulvyn had taken flight.  It lifted its cumbersome bulk out of the water and, as if it didn’t quite know how to control its new form of locomotion, it careened awkwardly towards its master.

Mandi saw the acolyte preparing to cast another spell, and she knew intuitively what he intended.  He was weaving a dispelling field around Khala, one that would undo her own invocation prematurely.  She was not about to let that happen.  Focusing her mind, filtering out all of the chaos raging around her, she cast.  The spell she summoned was the same as the one she’d used to daze the fiend earlier.  Though there was a very slim chance it might slay Khala outright, that was not her intent.  Thus it was that she was utterly shocked when she saw the demon abruptly reappear and topple over the dais and onto the platform floor.  For a moment, all went still in the great shrine as both enemy and ally gazed uncomprehendingly at Khala’s corpse.  Then, all at once, the melee resumed.  The skinwalkers howled in fury and hurled themselves at their enemies with abandon.  Tower Cleaver and Sepoto met the onslaught with vigor.  Demon after demon went down under the brutal one-two punch of the minotaur’s axe and the goliath’s chain.  Cleaver was barely cognizant of the fact that one of his blows cleaved the flying skulvyn in twain, so lost was he in his bloodlust.  Unfortunately, he was also unaware of the acolyte drawing a bead on him.  With a pulse of emerald power, Techuatil finally succeeded in sapping the barbarian’s formidable strength.  Cleaver felt his power ebbing, but he didn’t falter.  Slowly, he turned and began stalking towards the acolyte.

Mandi felt a soft ‘ping’ sound in her mind, and her eyes grew wide.  She smiled, realizing what the signal portended.
“We’ve got company!” she shouted to her comrades, which was true, but not as imminent as their new arrival might hope.  In preparation to face Khala, the sorceress had prepared a special trap.  If any being attempted to teleport near her location, she would sense it before hand, and the incoming creature would be temporarily shunted into the Astral plane, though the creature itself would be completely unaware of this little side trip.  Thus, if it was Xerkamat, as Mandi assumed it was, that was in transit, the wastrilith was going to be in for a rude welcome.  Abruptly, her musings were interrupted as three skinwalkers flew at her, arms and claws reaching out to grapple her.  Instantaneously, her body shifted into that of a barbed-skinned  devil and she snapped viciously at the nearest skinwalker, biting off the pinky of its left hand.  

Octurus continued to defend Marius and Daelric from the onrushing demons.  Two more fell before his blades as the warmage wove his magic behind the Maztican.  The gnome tossed an orb of glowing light at the platform, where the acolyte was bracing himself for Cleaver’s assault.  When the orb struck, the demon mage was hurled backwards.  As he struggled to regain his feat, Tower Cleaver lunged.  The result of his mighty blow is not fit reading for the faint of heart.  Suffice it to say that Techuatil finally met his true master that day.

Realizing that time was running out, Mandi darted past the trio of skinwalkers, who had fallen back a respectful distance in deference to her snapping fangs.  She knew she had to make it to the platform before Xerkamat arrived.  Behind her, she heard Daelric’s voice rise up in prayer, and seconds later a ten-foot tall wall of spinning blades appeared on the spot where she expected the wastrilith to appear.  
‘Good boy,’ she thought.  Perhaps there was hope for the priest after all.  She reached the platform a split-second before the air began to shimmer, and Xerkamat popped into view.  Before the wastrilith could even begin to take note of his surroundings, Mandi laid her hands on its slimy skin and magic pulsed from her palms into the demon.  Xerkamat knew in an instant what had happened.  The witch had dimensionally locked him in place, preventing him from teleporting out again.  Then came his second surprise when the blades of the wall he’d materialized in the midst of began to tear into him.  
“Rally on me!” Mandi shouted to the others, and with brutal efficiency, they responded.  Marius tossed another orb of force, causing Xerkamat to reel with the impact.  Then Cleaver and Sepoto were there, one on each side of the wall of blades.  The minotaur’s axe hacked mercilessly at the fiend, while Sepoto’s spinning chain prevented Xerkamat from exiting the blade barrier.  Within seconds, they had torn the wastrilith to pieces.

It was a formality for the Legionnaires to mop up what remained of the skinwalkers.  The entire conflict had occurred in under a minute from start to finish, yet it had seemed like hours.  The victorious heroes looked about them in amazement, still not quite believing what they had accomplished, especially in light of the previous day’s near disaster.  As they regrouped on the central platform, Mandi walked purposefully over to the altar and the glowing pearl resting there.  Laying one hand upon the gem and another upon Khala’s body, she began to chant.  Closing her eyes, her mind filled with images of the recent past.  She saw Khala ripping apart one of the fiendish oysters and tearing the pearl from its maw.  She bore silent witness as the fiend then sacrificed six living Mazticans from Mantru, ripping the still-beating hearts from five of them as he simultaneously decapitated them.  Then he consumed the bodies of all six before regurgitating the remains over the pearl.  She watched him strip the flesh from the skulls and then combine it with the liquefied heart tissue in a vile alchemical process.  She observed him cloistered in constant prayer and mediation as he continuously anointed the pearl with the obscene concoction.  Blessedly, the visions ended.  For even one as jaded as herself, the ritual she had beheld was depraved and cancerous.  In disgust, she cast another spell, striking Khala’s remains with a thin, green beam, turning the corpse instantly to dust, erasing any trace of the demon’s abominable existence.  Suddenly, a pair of bone-shaking roars echoed through the great temple, as an immense wash of black smoke erupted from the dust pile.  For the briefest of moments, Mandi could swear that she beheld the shape of the Prince of Demons himself in the haze, his twin glares falling balefully upon her.


----------



## Hammerhead

Evidently, it was ass-kicking time.


----------



## Supar

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Evidently, it was ass-kicking time.




Mandi made us watch 300 5 times before we left. 

great update JD not only did you make the combat come to life but our chars personalities fluttered to life


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

What can I say...a perfect game, guys. Congratulations, you're prize is the attention of Big D.


----------



## carborundum

Been away for a few days - back in time to catch up.

What a fantastic comeback! So many great moments, though I think Tower Cleaver's "I see ... everything" was one of the best! I could just see his big bovine mouth opening in wonder 

Can't wait for the next update, JD!

PS: What was that spell Mandi used at the start that 'froze' Khala?


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Been away for a few days - back in time to catch up.
> 
> What a fantastic comeback! So many great moments, though I think Tower Cleaver's "I see ... everything" was one of the best! I could just see his big bovine mouth opening in wonder
> 
> Can't wait for the next update, JD!
> 
> PS: What was that spell Mandi used at the start that 'froze' Khala?





Thanks!  It was a poetic battle, expertly executed from start to finish.  The spell was Final Rebuke.  If it doesn't kill you outright (which it ultimately did the second time) it still dazes you for one round, and in this case, Mandi extended it, so Khala was dazed for two rounds.  She'd also hit him with a Ray of Clumsiness, empowered, which reduced his Dex by 16.  All-in-all, she made him easy pickings for her cronies.  

Hope to have the second part of this update up by Tuesday.


----------



## RabidBob

Very nice battle!!


----------



## carborundum

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Thanks!  It was a poetic battle, expertly executed from start to finish.  The spell was Final Rebuke.  If it doesn't kill you outright (which it ultimately did the second time) it still dazes you for one round, and in this case, Mandi extended it, so Khala was dazed for two rounds.  She'd also hit him with a Ray of Clumsiness, empowered, which reduced his Dex by 16.




Wow! I couldn't find Final Rebuke for a while - turned out it was in the SC as Rebuke, Final 
And she beat the spell resistance every time too - sweet! Can't wait to see what happens next!

We played Red Hand of Doom last week and had a string of battles one after the other - blacked out mild spoiler time



Spoiler



defending the city. We're all out of spells, powers & potions and there is still more to come! The toughest yet, says the DM 


 thanks for the headsup NWN!
Nothing like fighting on empty to get a good idea of how cool your characters are!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Doesn't Joachim also have a Red Hand of Doom story hour?


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Doesn't Joachim also have a Red Hand of Doom story hour?




That's a vicious rumor, on the scale of the escapades of Leroy Jenkins...



As for Mandi beating SR, Joachim will have to give you the specifics, but she has a string of feat cheese that allows her to take 10 on SR checks, which, when she casts Assay Resistance, ends up being somewhere around 32.


----------



## JollyDoc

…BEST SERVED COLD

From the moment the Legionnaires entered Farshore, they knew something was wrong.  Townspeople stopped and stared as they passed, and some stood in small clusters, pointing and whispering.  As they made their way through the streets towards Lavinia’s manor, a small throng followed them at a discrete distance.  They could see that several shops and homes had been boarded up, obviously quite hastily.  The feeling of wrongness became even stronger as Lavinia’s home came into view.  The house had obviously been damaged by fire, and quite recently from the look of it.  Mongrelfolk laborers worked on a section of the roof on the northern face that had been completely burned away.  That area was directly above Lavinia’s bedroom.

Mandi and the others turned towards the gathered crowd, and saw a small group making its way over.  It was comprised of several of the more prominent members of the community, including Professor Aldwattle, Vesserin Catherly and Jakara, Militia Captain Ulvar Kabbanja, and Jeran Emrikad.  At the edge of the crowd they could see Urol Forol as well as Tavey Nesk, standing near his foster parents.  Ruby the Weaver was there as well, looking with pain-filled eyes at Sepoto, obviously torn between rushing to his side and keeping a cautious distance.
“What exactly is going on here?”  Mandi snapped as the group of Elders came closer.
“There’s been an attack,” Captain Kabbanja said.
“By whom?”  Sepoto asked.  “The Kraken Society again?”
“Possibly,” the Captain answered.  “We’re not sure.  The only thing we are sure of is that Vanthus Vanderboren was behind it!”
“What are you blabbering about?”  Mandi asked.  “Vanthus is dead.  You all saw us kill him, and then bury him!”
“Be that as it may,” Catherly interjected gently, “it was indeed he that we saw lead this assault.  He rode a terrible steed that flew through the air, and whose mane and hooves burned.  Vanthus himself still looked like the corpse you interred, yet he was somehow horribly alive.  He set the roof aflame, and then entered the manor, accompanied by several demonic-looking apes, some of them branded with the sigil of the Kraken Society.  They emerged moments later with Lavinia in tow, and then some of the folk overheard Vanthus speak to his sister, just before they vanished.”
“What did he say?”  Sepoto asked before Mandi could loose her vicious tongue again.  
“He said, ‘It is time for you to love me again, sister.  The Lord of the Kraken Society can awaken it in you when I bring you before him.  Your time here is over,’” Catherly replied.
Before the Legionnaires could question the Elders further, a commotion started in the crowd, and it began to part as a horseman urged his mount through its midst.  Lord Manthalay Meravanchi had arrived.

“Well, well,” the nobleman tsked, staring down at the company as if they were something stuck to the bottom of his boot.  “If it isn’t the prodigal sons…and daughter,” he nodded at Mandi.  
“As you can see,” he continued, “you’ve arrived too late to help your patron, but just in time to face justice for your crimes.”
Mandi cocked her head at him, murder in her eyes.  “What, exactly, is it you are speaking of, Meravanchi?”  She intentionally omitted his title.  The Deputy Lord Mayor smiled mirthlessly at her.
“I’m sure your companions will understand precisely what I am talking about.”
His house entourage then proceeded to force the crowd further apart so that a young man could make his way through.  He looked to be in his early twenties, though his eyes spoke of experiences beyond his years, not all of them pleasant.  He was pale, and thin, but his bearing was, if anything, even more haughty than Manthalay’s, and the family resemblance could not be missed.
“Avner?”  Sepoto asked, eyes widening.
“So you remember your victims,” Manthalay hissed.  “Good.  That will make it easier to convince a jury of your guilt!”
“What is that we are supposed to be guilty of?”  Marius interjected smoothly.  “To the best of our knowledge,” he nodded at Sepoto, and then at the crowd where Urol and Tavey looked shocked, “your nephew drowned during the wreck of the Sea Wyvern.  We feel nothing but relief that the rumors of his death where…exaggerated.”
“Liars!”  Avner said, his face red, the veins in his neck bulging.  He lunged forward, but two of Manthalay’s retainers restrained him.  “You and that devil Anwar left me in that gods-forsaken village to rot among those savages!”  
At that, some of the Mazticans in the crowd began to grumble.
“I’m certain I don’t know what you mean,” Marius beamed an oily grin.  “You were aboard ship with us to the very end.  Oh, and I’d watch my tongue if I were you.  Some of those ‘savages’ don’t exactly take to being called that.”
“To the Hells with what they like!” Avner shrieked.  “I was enslaved for most of a year!  Only a fortunate happenstance that a merchant vessel on its way here managed to negotiate my freedom, or I’d be there still!  Anwar tricked me!  He handed me over to those…villagers!  He sold me into slavery!”
“You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” Marius said, wagging a finger.  “If there was some altercation between you and Anwar, then Sepoto and I knew nothing about it.  I suppose he tricked us all, but he’s more than paid for his crimes, and you seem no worse for your alleged trials.  At least you’re still alive, which is more than I can say for poor Anwar.  In any event, we had no part of it, and certainly our new companions cannot be held accountable.”
“How dare you!?”  Avner screamed.  “You have no idea what those mongrels put me through!  You will pay!  You’ll all pay!”

The crowd grew more restive, especially the mongrelfolk, who had surreptitiously palmed their tools as makeshift weapons.  Sepoto loosened his chain, and Octurus gripped the hilts of his scimitars.  Cleaver growled low in his chest, his thumb sliding restlessly up and down the blade of his axe.  Lord Meravanchi’s eyes shifted across the scene rapidly, and he held up a hand for order.
“Peace, Avner,” he said calmly.  “Unfortunately, lying is not a crime, and it is equally unfortunate that it comes down to your word against theirs, but it matters not.  Members of the so-called Legion,” he continued more formally, “as acting mayor of Farshore, it is my duty to inform you that your services here are no longer required.  This little project of the Vanderborens has been proven to be folly at every turn.  Now Vanthus Vanderboren has apparently risen from the grave, and undoubtedly will be returning here with more Kraken Society ships.  I say it is time to give up this cursed endeavor and cut our losses!  We can take the remaining ships and set sail for the main land within the week.  Who’s with me?!”
At that, many in the crowd shouted their approval.  Others remained silent, eyeing their neighbors skeptically.  Only the mongrelfolk voiced their dissent, and when they did, Meravanchi smiled broadly.
“Ah, look!” he shouted above the tumult.  “The mud-blood rabble that these ‘heroes’ have forced upon us do not agree!  So be it!  Let them stay here, and their saviors with them!  Pirates and demons take them all!”
Many in the crowd roared again, but then a sudden explosion of fire in the air above them abruptly quieted their cries.
“Silence!!!”  Mandi’s voice boomed as she climbed up onto a wagon and stood above the townsfolk.  “Have you people forgotten why you came here in the first place?  This was Lars Vanderboren’s dream…a new beginning, free of the despotic rule of a corrupt government!  All of you agreed, or else you’d never have come!  Now, when his last surviving scion needs you most, you are going to simply abandon all hope?  Cowards!  All of you!”
An angry murmur rippled through the mob, but no one raised their voice to speak out.  Sepoto gauged the mood of those assembled and knew that they were at a dangerous cusp.  The right word, or the wrong one, could tip them over the edge.  Steeling his resolve, he climbed up to stand next to Mandi.
“People of Farshore,” his basso voice boomed, “hear me!  You know each and every one of us, and since our arrival here, we’ve done all within our power to aid you and advance the cause of our town!  At this time of crisis, we will do so again!  I implore you, do not abandon hope!  My comrades and I will go in search of Lady Vanderboren, and we will find her and return her home!  This I swear, on Savras’ name!”
This drew many nods of approval from those assembled, and uncertain glances from the more vocal ones.  Then, Meravanchi’s voice rose up again.
“You’re too late!” he laughed.  “The Jade Ravens have already taken the Devil Fish and departed for Scuttlecove!  If Lavinia is to be saved, then her truly loyal servants will do so!  In any event, you are no longer welcome here!  Go on your fool-hardy mission if it suits you, but go nonetheless!”
Sepoto stared daggers at the nobleman, and when he spoke again, his voice was pitched dangerously low, but could be heard distinctly nonetheless.
“Aye, we will go, Meravanchi, but we shall return.  I have sworn a blood-oath thus.  And when we return, we shall bring the rightful and duly elected leader of Farshore with us.  When that time comes, perhaps it is you who should think about seeking another place of residence.”
The goliath then stepped down from the wagon and, shouldering his way silently through the dumb-struck throng, he began walking towards the town walls.  His colleagues watched his departure, and then followed in his wake, none of them looking back, save for one.  At the edge of the crowd, Mandi turned.
“People of Farshore,” she said, “you would be wise to mark those you hearken to by deeds rather than words.  Let each of you allow your own heart your guide.”  
______________________________________________________

 Some time later, Mandi stood alone in Lavinia’s bedchamber.  The others had gone to investigate Vanthus’ grave site, but she was certain all they would find would be an empty hole in the ground.  As she paced around the room, she closed her eyes, her lips murmuring arcane words.  The chamber swirled and distorted around her, only to coalesce into what it had been several days back.  Now she saw Lavinia, asleep in her bed.  Suddenly, the ceiling erupted in flames, and as the young noblewoman started from sleep in panic, four of the demonic bar-igura dropped down from above.  They seized her, dragged her from her bed, and held her while their master drifted languidly down from the roof.  Vanthus Vanderboren did indeed look more dead than alive, his eyes burning with unholy fire.  He spoke the words to his sister that Catherly had recounted, then ordered his minions to take her.  Abruptly, they vanished.  Vanthus then climbed back to the rooftop, mounted his abyssal steed, and disappeard into the night sky.  Mandi saw it all, and the first seeds of despair began to take root beside the seething anger in her heart.
_______________________________________________________________

Within days, the Legionnaires had the Sea Wyvern outfitted for her voyage.  Scuttlecove lay over a thousand miles northeast of the Isle of Dread, in the Nelanther isles, a notorious haven of pirates and cutthroats.  Mandi would captain the ship herself, while Urol Forol volunteered to be navigator.  The company was at no loss for volunteers to fill out the rest of the crew as well, most of them mongrelfolk.  Before they set sail, Mandi warned them that they would be traveling by somewhat…unconventional means, and that they should all be prepared to see and experience things they had never seen.

Prior to setting sail, Mandi secluded herself in her cabin for a short time.  During her meditation, she sent her thoughts traveling, far across the sea to two separate individuals.  The first one she found was Lavinia.
‘My lady,’ she sent, ‘we returned from our endeavor victorious, only to hear of your dilemma.  Rest assured, we are coming for you.  Do not abandon hope.’
‘Mandi?’  It was Lavinia’s voice, sounding strained and desperate.  ‘You must take care!  It is Vanthus!  He has been transformed!  I know not where he has brought me, but I fear my time…’
The message trailed off, having exceeded its limit, but Mandi had accomplished what she had hoped for.  She had confirmed that Lavinia still lived.  Her thoughts quested out again, this time touching the mind of Bombur, the Jade Raven’s resident priest.
‘We know of your mission.  What is your status and condition?’
‘We are only a few days out from Scuttlecove,’ the dwarf replied.  ‘We will watch for your arrival and attempt to rendezvous with you when possible.’
Satisfied, Mandi returned to the deck and instructed the crew to prepare for departure.  A sizeable crowd had gathered on the docks to watch them go, including both Meravanchis.  Mandi stood on the wheel deck, hands clasped behind her, staring back at the wharf.  As the Sea Wyvern weighed anchor, a shimmering globe of energy surrounded the vessel.  The ship drifted into the harbor, and then, to the amazement and shock of all the onlookers, it began to sink slowly beneath the waves.  At the last moment before she submerged, Mandi unclasped her hands, and raised her right hand into a single-fingered salute to the acting Lord Mayor and his wayward nephew.


----------



## carborundum

Oh those nasty Merivanchi's! I hope they get their just deserts soon 
Avner's on top form and the heroes are on their way to Scuttlecove - can't wait!


----------



## LordVyreth

What spell did Mandi use in the bedroom?  I can never keep track of divinations.


----------



## Zurai

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> What spell did Mandi use in the bedroom?  I can never keep track of divinations.




If I had to guess, I'd say _Hindsight_, but I don't know if Mandi is able to cast 9th level spells yet.


----------



## Joachim

Zurai said:
			
		

> If I had to guess, I'd say _Hindsight_, but I don't know if Mandi is able to cast 9th level spells yet.




Correct, but Mandi used it off of a scroll.  Because of the feat Arcane Mastery, she doesn't even have to roll to use it...she can take 10.  This is the same spell she cast in Khala's altar chamber.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Joachim said:
			
		

> Correct, but Mandi used it off of a scroll.  Because of the feat Arcane Mastery, she doesn't even have to roll to use it...she can take 10.  This is the same spell she cast in Khala's altar chamber.



Burning 9th level scrolls like that makes you wonder...until you remember how rich they became  through that damn miracle. 

As for the Meravanchis, I'm sure they would be off much better alone on Taboo Island - without boats, of course.


----------



## Supar

we still have not recieved that money


----------



## Joachim

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Burning 9th level scrolls like that makes you wonder...until you remember how rich they became  through that damn miracle.




Actually, I ignored the high cost for roleplaying purposes (*GASP*!!!).  I picked up two of them in our last foray to the mainland after our first encounter with Khala.  I figured something cool had to have been happening in the chamber, and it might help to advance the plot a little.


----------



## CrusadeDave

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> That's a vicious rumor, on the scale of the escapades of Leroy Jenkins...




Haven't posted in here in EONS, but keep up the great work. My party is about to set out to Fogmire next Friday.

I only jumped in because of the mention of Leeroy Jenkins, the name of an Epic War Mind who was  the best Tank I have ever seen Twinked out. He was built as a: Fighter 2 Psi Warrior 2 Cleric 1 PyroKineticist 5 WarMind 14 (With 8 Dwarven Paragon Levels).

I am much more sane, not dealing with CR 31 characters.  The thread detailing what that party faught in the final battle is located here: http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=183595

You do not want to know how long it took to balance that battle....

Feel free to steal it though.  if you ever need a campaign topper.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

What, you weren't paid yet? Mandi's patience must be wearing thin. 



			
				Joachim said:
			
		

> Actually, I ignored the high cost for roleplaying purposes (*GASP*!!!).  I picked up two of them in our last foray to the mainland after our first encounter with Khala.  I figured something cool had to have been happening in the chamber, and it might help to advance the plot a little.



GASP it is. Great stuff, though.


----------



## JollyDoc

Sunday Night Teaser
___________________

The Legion invades Scuttlecove after two weeks on the high seas, during which Sepoto's beauty sleep is interrupted by a strange dream...

The Legion just thought they were bad boys and girls, till they got a look at true evil among Scuttlecove's populace..."a more wretched hive of scum and villainy you'll not find..."

While strolling through the town square, the company stumbles upon an old acquaintance...

Asking too many questions can draw the wrong sort of attention, as the group is waylaid in a dark alley.  No easy marks, however, the Legion decides to send a message to the local thugs and bully boys...

Lavinia's trail leads first to an abandoned whaling concern, where a reunion with an old friend suddenly takes a turn for the worse.  Tower Cleaver vs the Leech...any takers??


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Tower Cleaver rules all.


----------



## Leinart

Yea power to da CLEAVA....


----------



## JollyDoc

Test


----------



## JollyDoc

Alright readers, for some reason the site is not allowing me to post my update.  I keep getting the message "you must fill in the subject and message headers."  Any ideas?


----------



## JollyDoc

SERPENTS OF SCUTTLECOVE

The two week voyage to the Nelanther islands was tediously monotonous.  To be sure, there was the occasional sea monster or rogue pirate ship to contend with, but these proved only minor nuisances to the puissant skills of the Legionnaires.  Even the weather remained relatively calm.  Tower Cleaver and Octurus were the most ill-at-ease.  The minotaur had spent his entire life on land, and though he could handle the occasional coastal jaunt, the long days of endless sea made him decidedly agoraphobic.  He took to secluding himself in the Sea Wyvern’s hold, where he built a miniature labyrinth out of cargo crates and would pace through it obsessively.  Octurus was not afraid of the water per se, but he had never been away from his home island before, and he could not help but feel that he would never see it again.  The Maztican spent much of his time alone, either inking new, more exotic tattoos onto his already heavily painted skin, or practicing his sword skills on the foc’s’le.  The crew gave him a wide berth, all save Urol, who pestered him with endless questions until the demon hunter’s stoic silence wore down even the loquacious gnome’s persistence.

Mandi busied herself with constantly keeping up the magical wards she cast around the ship.  These allowed her to sense other vessels within miles before they ever came in view, and would allow her to once more cocoon the Sea Wyvern in a bubble of air and submerge it if any true threat arrived.  Marius aided her, and in their down time, the two Seekers pooled their knowledge of Scuttlecove.  They knew that the city had been established on Ioma, the largest island in Nelanther, by three ur-priests who called themselves the Holy Triad.  These blasphemers were renegades from the Ebon Triad, who had sought out the desolate island to pursue their vile rituals in peace.  They knew, however, that they would need a society to support their research and decadence, and it didn’t take long for their outpost to blossom into a fat and turgid city.  After all, even pirates needed a place to rest, relax and spend their loot.  Then, just a few years past, the Holy Triad mysteriously vanished from their palace during a tremendous storm of green worms that reportedly left hundreds dead.  Since then, the city had become, if possible, even more lawless and dangerous.  The Legion would have to tread lightly once they reached port.  Even they could not take on an entire city.

Only Daelric seemed truly at ease during the trek.  As an adherent of Shaundekal, being on a journey, any journey, only fed his wanderlust.  His enthusiasm was contagious among the crew, and they saw him as something of a lucky mascot, crediting his presence with the relative ease of their voyage.  They even managed to ignore the strange rash of petty theft that had been taking place onboard since they’d left Farshore…

As for Sepoto, the goliath brooded.  His sleep had not been sound since they set sail, plagued by vague dreams that he could not recall the following day.  This culminated one evening, when they were still several days from Nelanther, with a dream so vivid, it could only be called a vision.  In it, the crusader found himself back at Kraken’s Cove with his old companions.  Once more they hewed their way through the hordes of savage creatures until at last they came upon the embattled pirate captain, Harliss Javell.  This time, however, the swashbuckler was not besieged.  Instead, she greeted Sepoto with a smile…and a proposition…
“’Tis me, lad,” the lady pirate said.  “Though ye be dreamin’, ‘tis my voice yer hearin’.  I’m in Scuttlecove, come to claim some payback from th’Kraken Society for what they put me through.  Turns out, we got us a mutual acquaintance who’s payin’ a visit as well.  That low-life, lint-lickin’…”  The string of expletives was enough to make the goliath blush, even in his sleep.  “…mother-scratchin’ Vanthus Vanderboren!  Saw him meself, I did, though I have t’admit the boyo’s looked better.  Looks like somethin’ dredged up from Davy Jone’s Locker, which is t’say I don’t think he’s entirely among th’livin’ anymore.  Had that uppity sister o’his with’im, though I don’t reckon she came along of her own free will, if ye catch my meanin’.  I figured ye’d want t’know, seein’ as how he caused you and your lot a bit’o trouble as well.  I’ve hooked up with a local group called th’Protectorate.  They’ve promised t’help if ye be wantin’ t’rescue your boss-lady, an’ I’ll help as well, as long as I’m able t’lay low the so-called Kraken Society in the bargain.  If ye’re shipbound, I suggest ye anchor in one o’the coves around Ioma and take shank’s mare th’rest o’ th’way.  If ye want me help, meet me at Red Foam Whalin’.”

The dream faded as quickly as it came and Sepoto awoke with a start.  Quickly, he hurried on-deck to tell Mandi and the others what he’d seen.
“A Dream spell,” the sorceress said thoughtfully.  “Powerful magic for a pirate.  Seems your old acquaintance has found herself strong allies.  Though we could use all the help we can get, I’m not entirely sure that I trust the word of a pirate, especially one that tried to have Lavinia killed.”
“I understand your concern,” Marius replied, “but in this case, I think I tend to believe Captain Javell.  I can assure you she has no love for Vanthus, and as the saying goes, ‘the enemy of my enemy.’”
“That remains to be seen,” Mandi said, “but it seems we have few options at this point.  Very well then.  When we reach Ioma, we’ll scout out a safe place to leave the ship and then make for Scuttlecove by land.  Then we shall see what we shall see…”


----------



## JollyDoc

Ioma turned out to have no shortage of hidden coves, and in one of the more secluded ones, the Sea Wyvern dropped anchor.  As the Legionnaires disembarked, Mandi instructed Urol to remain there for no longer than one week.  If they had not returned, or if the crew found themselves in imminent danger, they were to set sail for any port of their choosing.  The sorceress also reminded the gnome what the price of treachery would be.

Once they reached shore, Mandi attempted another message to Lavinia.  This time, she got no reply.  
“It doesn’t mean anything,” she said to her anxious allies.  “She may be unconscious, or being held in a place that is warded.  We continue with our plan.”
It took them the better part of the day, slogging across the stinking, steaming scar of land through festering salt marshes and dripping jungles, until they finally came within sight of Scuttlecove.  The landward gates stood open and unmanned.  The company passed through unmolested into the city itself.  What they saw when they emerged on the other side of the portals could only be described as a diseased, filthy pit of salty depression.  The streets were muddy and choked with garbage, and even the odd corpse, slowly putrefying in the stagnant heat.  The buildings were almost all one-story wooden affairs, with rickety walls, sagging roofs of tarred straw or cracked wood shingles, and doorways consisting of dried seaweed or cheap burlap.  The lost souls that comprised the populace of the festering metropolis barely glanced their way, except in hungry avarice, sizing them up as possible victims.

Mandi knew exactly what sort of place Scuttlecove was.  She’d been in similar cesspools during her long span of years, and she knew the currency of such:  money and violence.  Catching Tower Cleaver’s eye, she jerked her head towards an old salt who crouched in a gutter, panhandling.  The minotaur snorted and leaned over the man, lifting him into the air with one massive paw.
“Don’ kill me!” the beggar squeaked.  “I ain’t done nothin’!  I swear!”
“Your very existence offends me, worm!”  Mandi hissed.  “If you care to draw one more wretched breath into your diseased lungs, you’ll tell me exactly what I want to hear!”
“Anythin’!  Anythin’!” the man wailed.  
“Where is Red Foam Whaling?” she began.  For a moment, the leper only blinked, confused, but a stiff shake from Cleaver seemed to jog his memory.
“Near the docks!  An old abandoned fac’try!  Used t’be run by th’Red Foam Boys…thought they’d make a go o’robbin’ whalin’ ships and sellin’ the harvest themselves…that is till they found out they’d actually have t’work t’render the whales!”  At that, the old man burst into a spasm of hysterical giggles.  Another rough shaking from Tower Cleaver brought him back to his senses.  “Fac’try’s been abandoned since, but rumor has it th’Protectorate’s usin’ it now!”
Mandi’s eyes narrowed.  “The Protectorate?”
“Bunch o’do-gooders,” the beggar bawled.  “Think they can save us all!”  He began laughing again, until a look from Cleaver silenced him once more.
“Who rules this city?”  Mandi demanded.  The old man almost started to cackle again, but stopped himself abruptly.
“Who rules?”  he asked, eyes wide.  “Whoever can!  If ye’re not in one o’th gangs, yer nothin’!   Like me!  Oh, I guess ye could say that the Dire Hunger Monks is th’law, but they work fer th’highest bidder.  I’d steer clear o’em if I was you, less ye want t’end up inna stew pot!”  At this, he did begin laughing, and no amount of cajoling from Cleaver could bring him out of it.  At Mandi’s word, the minotaur tossed the man aside like a rag doll, where he lay in the gutter, still chortling to himself.


----------



## JollyDoc

With Tower Cleaver and Sepoto in the lead, the Legionnaires began their trek across Scuttlecove, headed for the dock district on the far side of the city.  With every block they traveled, they saw more and more evidence of the cut-throat, back-stabbing, live from hand-to-mouth nature of the den of iniquity.  There were establishments such as Parts Is Parts, a shop constructed completely out of bones, many of them humanoid, which obviously dealt in the trading of body parts.  Then there was an orphanage, whose open-air patio featured several stone plinths which looked suspiciously like auction blocks.  Other businesses they passed where equally unsavory or worse, and all about them the evidence of one sentient species’ inhumanity to another were on open display.  Nowhere was this more obvious than the town plaza.  Here they encountered a terrifying structure which consisted of metal and wood beams arranged in a series of concentric squares.  The beams were suspended twenty feet off of the ground by tall stone pillars, and each was festooned with coils of spiked chains.  Numerous spiked manacles dangled from these, along with thousands of tiny chains that ended in hooks, clamps and long, thin barbed rods.  Bodies hung from most of the shackles, in various stages of decay.  Ravens picked at the remains amid loud caws and rustling feathers.  As the company walked by the gruesome tableau, Sepoto abruptly stopped, staring upward with his mouth open.
“What?”  Mandi asked, following his gaze with her own.  Then she saw what had caught the goliath’s attention.  Hanging amid several desiccated husks was the somewhat fresh body of a dwarf.  He was naked save for a silver amulet around his neck.  Even from a distance, it was obvious that the symbol engraved on the amulet was that of Moradin.
“Bombur,” Mandi whispered.  
The others looked up as well, their shock at the sight of the dead Jade Raven apparent.  After a moment, Mandi brusquely urged them all on again, feeling the first pangs of despair clutch at her heart.

Several blocks later, the company found themselves in a short alley between two avenues.  As they picked their way through the clutter and refuse, two men stepped out of the shadows at the far end.  Behind them, two more figures appeared.
“We hear you been askin’ questions,” one of the men in front said, fingering the blade of a scimitar he held.  “Folks round here don’t take kindly t’those what stick their noses in business that don’t concern’em.  Busy bodies’re liable to end up strung up in the plaza.”
At that, Mandi’s eyes flared, and her entire body tensed.  
“And those that interfere in the affairs of the Legion don’t live long enough to regret it,” she hissed.  At a jerk of her head, Tower Cleaver lumbered forward.  The thugs braced themselves, but they might as well have been bracing to hold back a hurricane.  The minotaur’s axe swung wide, opening bright red gashes across the chests of both men.  Sepoto took off in the opposite direction, and his own swing drove one of the brigands behind them back past the mouth of the alley.  Suddenly, a barrage of fiery rays streaked past the goliath, cooking the second man inside his armor, leaving nothing but a charred corpse in their wake.  Sepoto took the opportunity to follow his fleeing victim, impaling the man to the cobbles as he fell.

Cleaver’s opponents quickly backpedaled away from the enraged minotaur, quaffing flasks as they went.  When Cleaver closed the distance with them again, each of them spewed fiery liquid at him, scorching and singeing his flesh.  As the barbarian roared and batted at the flames, Octurus darted past him, diving and tumbling to come up behind the two ruffians.  A quick thrust of one of his deadly blades severed the spine of one man, and a follow-up riposte with his second neatly slit the other thug’s throat.

Several minutes later, the Legionnaires stood around one of the dead rogues as Daelric finished binding his hands behind him, and then murmured a quick prayer over the corpse.  Abruptly, the man began to cough and sputter as he struggled to a sitting position, his eyes staring wildly around at his captors.
“I…I was dead!” he stammered.
“Yes, you were,” Mandi replied, calmly, “and unless you want to return to that state immediately, you’ll answer a few questions for us.”
The thief glanced around at the glowering faces above him, then nervously licked his lips.
“If I tell you, you’ll let me go?” he asked
“You have my word,” Mandi said, her eyes as cold as ice.  “Now, you can start by telling us who you work for.”
The man stared at her for a moment before averting his eyes from her disturbing gaze.  “We’re independents,” he said at length, “but we was hired by an agent of the Kraken’s.”
“I see,” Mandi nodded.  “And do you know a man named Vanthus Vanderboren?”
The ruffian shook his head.  “Never heard of him.  We never know the names of our employers.”
“Then where can we find the Kraken Society?” the sorceress pressed.
The prisoner shook his head violently.  “I dunno!  Never been there!  We was always just contacted by a messenger!”
Mandi continued to stare at him, like a bug under a magnifying glass.  Finally, she nodded again.  
“Very well then.  As soon as we are gone, you are free to untie yourself and go about your business.”

The rogue continued to stare after the departing company until they’d vanished into the mist.  Then he set about working on his bonds, flicking a dagger from inside one of his sleeves.  In minutes, he was free.  Not believing his good fortune, he quickly rifled through the pockets of his former companions, then stood and began walking towards the far end of the alley.  He’d gone no more than a half-dozen paces when his eyes went wide with surprise.  He felt pain like a fist grip his heart as it shuddered to a stop.  One more pace and he fell face-first into a pile of garbage, dead once more, and this time, permanently.

Some time later, a new corpse hung from the chains in the town plaza, placed there under the watchful eyes of passersby by a large, heavily muscled minotaur bearing an axe nearly as tall as he was.  As the body swung from its chains, an equally burly goliath stood beneath it and called out to the onlookers.
“Heed well this warning!  This is what becomes of those who cross the Legion!”


----------



## JollyDoc

Red Foam Whaling was just as the old beggar had described, if not worse.  It was an unassuming structure, cobbled together from two buildings connected by a rickety extension.  A single pair of doors led into the factory, although it was assumed there was a sea route in as well.  That particular area of the wharfs was abandoned, with not even the usual panhandlers in sight.  No lights illuminated the building or the docks around it.  Cautiously, spreading out as they approached, the Legionnaires moved towards the entrance.  Tower Cleaver reached for the door handles, but when he pulled and turned them, the doors refused to budge.
“No problem,” he muttered under his breath, “Tower Cleaver have key.”
Hoisting his axe over one shoulder, he brought it down in a swift chop which left the right-hand door in splinters.  A second blow opened the left door as well.
“Tactful,” Mandi said sourly as she stepped forward to peer into the gloom beyond, her body shifting and melting into the now-familiar fiendish, barbed-skinned shape of a devil.  The entry chamber was bare, save for a rotting desk and a few broken chairs.  Striding across with two large steps, Cleaver moved to a second set of doors on the far side.  Finding these equally stubborn, he employed his ‘key’ once again.  

The company found themselves looking out over the factory piers, which extended into the bay beyond.  They were partially enclosed by sagging wooden walls and protected from the elements by a long, sloping roof.  Massive iron hooks attached to ropes as thick as arms hung from beams above, which in turn were attached to huge rust-covered pulleys that once would have enabled workers to maneuver whales into one of the narrow bays between the rickety-looking walkways.  Rotting tools…rusting iron-spiked boots, wicked curved knives on long poles, and heavy saws…leaned against walls to the north and east, while to the west and south there were no walls at all blocking the depressing view of the city’s harbor.  What immediately caught everyone’s attention, however, was the raven-haired beauty who sprawled, unconscious on the wooden deck in front of them.  She moaned, as if in great pain as her head lolled from side to side. 
“That’s her,” Sepoto said, stepping forward.  “That’s Harliss Javell.”
Mandi looked questioningly at Marius, who nodded his agreement as Sepoto knelt over the woman.  Calling on one of the few prayers that Savras granted His crusaders, the goliath attempted to heal any wounds the pirate captain might have, though he saw no visible marks upon her.  Nothing changed about her condition.
“Bring her to me,” Daelric commanded, twisting his ring and fading from view.  Sepoto scooped Harliss up in his arms and carried her back to the entry chamber.  Though the crusader could not see the priest, he could hear him muttering his own prayers over her as she was lowered gently to the floor.  

At Mandi’s suggestion, Tower Cleaver and Octurus went in opposite directions along the pier, towards doors at either end of the factory building.  Octurus reached his first, yanking it open and thrusting his scimitar forward.  He saw only an empty corridor beyond, with more doors opening from it.  When Tower Cleaver pulled open the portal at his end, he stopped short, gazing in confusion at what he was seeing.  Numerous tapestries covered the shabby walls of the room, wafting in the breeze from the open door.  As Cleaver peered more closely at them, however, he realized that they were not made of cloth but of skin…some sort of reptilian skin.  Worse, in the southwest corner of the room was a life-sized statue of a foully distorted, double-headed form with twin tentacles and a double-ended tail.  What was most disturbing about the sculpture was that it was composed of animal and human parts stitched together by thick, black yarn.  The minotaur turned to call to Mandi just as Daelric sighed in exasperation.
“It’s not use!  I’ve tried my most powerful healing charms, as well as trying to dispel the effect.  Whatever enchantment she’s under, it’s too powerful for me.”
Several things happened at that moment.  As Mandi turned to acknowledge Tower Cleaver, she saw a lithe form drop from the rafters behind the minotaur.  At first she thought it was a human, but then she noticed its snake-like head.  A startled cry from behind her caused her to whirl, where she saw a second yuan-ti land nimbly next to Octurus.  A third one appeared from beneath one of the piers extending out into the harbor, a horn bow gripped in one hand.  This one knelt, knocked, drew the bowstring and loosed with a loud ‘thwang.’  The arrow sped unerringly towards Tower Cleaver, burying itself to the fletchings beneath the minotaur’s left arm.  Cleaver howled, spinning madly as he tried to pull free the missile, but as he turned he saw one more creature emerging from beneath a set of stairs to his left.  This beast was snake-like in appearance as well, but it was far larger than its companions, and the only humanoid resemblance it bore where the two muscular arms that sprouted from its torso, one of them gripping a gleaming scimitar.

Sepoto glanced away from Harliss as he heard the sounds of battle behind him.  When he looked back, the woman’s eyes were open and she was staring at him in wonder.
“Sepoto?” she asked.  “That be you?”
“Yes,” he said quickly, “but you need to stay down.  We’ve got trouble.”
“Aye, but I’m damned glad t’see ye, boyo!” she said with a smile.  As she did so, the reached up and twined her arms around the goliath’s neck, planting a very appreciative kiss on his lips.  Sepoto’s eyes went wide, and not from delight.  As Harliss’ lips touched his, he felt an aching cold surge through his entire body, stealing the breath from his lungs.  Mandi turned at the sound of Harliss’ voice and saw the embrace, and the decidedly unhealthy shade of gray that Sepoto’s face was turning.
“Daelric!” she snapped.  “I need to see…now!”
The priest understood immediately, and rushed to the sorceress’s side, passing his hands over her eyes as he cast his spell.  Instantly, Mandi saw what lurked beneath the semblance of Harliss Javell.  It was a succubus…a bat-winged beauty from the Abyss that could literally suck out a man’s soul with her kiss.
“Get away from him you bitch!”  Mandi screamed as she first shackled the demon to the spot with a sizzling green beam that would prevent it from trying to teleport away, and then followed that by hurling a scintillating orb of force.  As the sphere impacted, the succubus shrieked and vanished from sight, pulled back to the Abyss as its material form was destroyed.  It was only then that Mandi realized the demon had been summoned…but summoned by whom?

The abomination’s flesh was a sickened yellow-green hue, and its face was pulled back in a ghastly rictus grin, as if horrifically scarred by acid.  It reached for Tower Cleaver, though it was easily fifteen feet away.  Incredibly, its arm seemed to stretch forward, as if made of rubber.  As it touched Cleaver’s arm, the skin there began to rot and the minotaur felt pain like he’d never felt before.  At the same time, the yuan-ti behind him struck, ramming a wicked-looking dagger into his side, while sinking its fangs into his right arm.  A second later, another arrow shot home, thunking into Cleaver’s thigh, and then the yuan-ti archer did something else.  It unhinged its lower jaw and spit a wad of hissing fluid at the minotaur.  When it struck, it began to burn, and Cleaver’s pain was magnified exponentially.

Octurus’s cat-like reflexes allowed him to leap back from the crouching yuan-ti just as its knife passed through where his Achilles tendon had been a moment before.  The assassin then reached into its belt pouch and drew forth a small, glowing bead which it flicked casually at the Maztican.  The throw was wide, and the bead landed behind Octurus, but when it did, it detonated with tremendous force, throwing the warrior forward, back towards the yuan-ti.  The creature feinted with a jab towards the oncoming Maztican’s mid-section, but as Octurus lowered his blades to block, the snake-man quickly reversed his thrust and instead slashed across the demon-hunter’s neck, narrowly missing his jugular.  

Tower Cleaver was almost blind with agony.  He reeled about drunkenly, unable to gather his wits enough to defend himself.  As he blundered towards the abomination, the brute struck again, grabbing first his bicep, and then his leg.  At both points, the flesh began to ooze with corruption, showing sinew and vessels beneath.  The serpent then sank its fangs into the minotaur’s neck, and Cleaver felt its venom burning through his body, even as its scimitar pierced deep into his belly.  Rage began to pulse through the barbarian, subsuming his pain with its fury.  Savagely he swung his axe and felt it connect solidly with the abomination.  Though death fluttered around him, Tower Cleaver did not heed it.  He knew only his thirst for blood.

“Damn it, Daelric, do something!”  Mandi shouted in fury as she watched Tower Cleaver’s futile last stand.  
“Me?” the priest squeaked.  “You want me to go out there against that…that thing!?”
“Let me handle that!” she snapped.  “You keep Cleaver alive at all costs!”
Reluctantly, Daelric nodded, and darted out onto the pier, praying that his invisibility would shield him from the violence raging there.  When he reached Tower Cleaver, he quickly locked his hands around the minotaur’s midsection, calling out to Shaundekal as he did so.  Divine power surged from his body into the barbarian’s, snapping shut his wounds, regenerating his flesh, and purging the poison from his system.  Suddenly, a tremendous flash of light burst in front of Daelric and Cleaver as a shimmering cage composed of pure energy formed around the abomination, trapping it inside.

Octurus parried the lightning-fast jabs from the yuan-ti as rapidly as they came.  Finally, he saw an opening and his own blades blurred, slashing the assassin brutally.  As the snake man momentarily dropped his guard, the Maztican lunged, his right-hand blade opening up his opponent’s abdomen and spilling its bowels out upon the planking.  Incredibly, the yuan-ti still lived.  Even more incredibly, it still had some fight left in it.  Feinting again, it managed to catch Octurus across his neck a second time, but the demon hunter pulled his head back at the last instant.  As the yuan-ti’s momentum carried it forward, Octurus raised both his blades and caught it on both points, directly through the heart.  This time the assassin slumped and did not rise again.

Sepoto staggered to his feet, still somewhat weak from the demon’s embrace.  Seeing the yuan-ti archer still firing at his comrades with impunity, the goliath bellowed a challenge and charged down the pier.  His chain lashed out and slashed at the serpent, but the assassin was quick and managed to roll with the blow.  Not so Sepoto’s second strike, however, which snapped the archer’s bow even as it fired an arrow point blank into the goliath’s shoulder.  As the yuan-ti staggered backwards, Sepoto pounced like a cat, wrapping his chain around its neck and snapping it like a twig.

Mandi nodded in satisfaction.  Things were going just as she wanted them.  Once they’d dealt with the half-bloods, she would drop her force cage and they could all concentrate on the abomination.  Her smile of triumph quickly vanished, however, as the bloated behemoth abruptly transformed into a tiny viper, which immediately began scuttling towards the bars of her cage.
“No!” the sorceress shouted as she loosed a blast of magic, intending to turn the yuan-ti to glass before it could escape.  The snake was wicked fast, however, and easily avoided the attack, scuttling between the cage bars and dropping into the water below.  Meanwhile, the last remaining half-blood deflected two blows from Tower Cleaver’s axe, while dodging inside the minotaur’s defenses to plant its blade in his gut again, and then deftly tumbling back out of reach.  By this time, Mandi was enraged, and screamed incoherently as she sent a beam of sickly green fire at the assassin, turning it into a pile of dust and gear in the blink of an eye.  

Octurus began moving back around the pier towards his companions, but suddenly the water beneath him began to churn as the abomination surfaced once more.  It reached for him, trying to pull him into its embrace, but the Maztican was too fast, and somersaulted quickly out of its reach.  Hissing, the behemoth turned towards Mandi, its rictus grin showing rows of needle-like fangs.  It began to chant, and Mandi recognized the spell it was casting as one of her favorites.  It was attempting to polymorph her.
“Not so fast,” she growled as she hurled scorching rays of fire at the beast.  The abomination roared as its corpulent flesh sizzled, losing its concentration and the magic it had been summoning.  As it reeled, Octurus ran towards it, the deinonychus tattoo on his right bicep flashing.  At the last moment, the Maztican leaped into the air, both scimitars raised.  The first came down so hard on the yuan-ti’s neck that the reverberation caused Octurus to lose his grip on the blade, dropping into the water below.  He still had his second sword, however, and this one he thrust straight up through the roof of the abominations gaping mouth, piercing the evil brain above.


----------



## JollyDoc

Sorry I had to post this piece-meal, but it seems like the only way the site was going to allow me to post.


----------



## stonegod

During the upgrade process, long posts aren't allowed. Its a bug, they know about it, but its going away in the next few weeks.


----------



## carborundum

Piercing the evil???

What's next? Do we have to wait a week to see if he pierced the evil brain or if he only pierced an evil nostril?

Loving the Scuttlecove, JD!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

The effort was worth it. Great stuff, JollyDoc.


----------



## carborundum

Yes, definitely! Another awesome combat - were all those neck strikes death attacks? Yikes!


----------



## Aracase

Tower Cleaver LIVES .....*moo*   

He was down to 3 Con and 4 HP before Daelric could cast a heal.  It was almost the end of the big lummox.


----------



## Supar

i especially liked the revenance on the thug  info pump ftw yah you will live! for 13 rounds atleast


----------



## carborundum

Crikey and blimey!
I don't even want to imagine how many hitpoints he lost from the CON damage!

Any chance any of you guys feel like posting your characters again?


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Piercing the evil???
> 
> What's next? Do we have to wait a week to see if he pierced the evil brain or if he only pierced an evil nostril?
> 
> Loving the Scuttlecove, JD!




Whoops!  Cut and Paste faux pas.  It's fixed now.


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Yes, definitely! Another awesome combat - were all those neck strikes death attacks? Yikes!




There were a lot of crits and sneak attacks flying.  The yuan-ti had improved feint, and did so liberally to catch our heroes flat-footed for the 5d6 sneak attack goodness.


----------



## carborundum

Yay!!! The evil brain bit the dust!

Improved Feint is wicked! Sounds like you're having fun with the bad guys and not pulling any punches - the updates are really well written too - makes my week!


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## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Yay!!! The evil brain bit the dust!
> 
> Improved Feint is wicked! Sounds like you're having fun with the bad guys and not pulling any punches - the updates are really well written too - makes my week!




Well, if you liked that, you'll love the next update!

Sunday Night Teaser
_________________

The Seventh Coil is looking for some payback after the death of the Leech, and they get it in spades when not one, but two Legion members go down in round one of a deadly ambush!! It's touch and go for our heroes, and new characters may be in the works...!

A clue leads the group on the next step of their hunt for Harliss, which just so happens to be the biggest brothel in Scuttlecove.  Deals are made, souls are sold as they match wits with Madame Tyralandi.

The hunt continues, ultimately leading to yet another brothel.  The lovely Sisters of Lamentation, however, are not nearly so accomodating, and their adopted "child" is just plain icky.


----------



## LordVyreth

Was Marius' player busy or something?  His missing presence likely made that fight much harder.


----------



## JollyDoc

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Was Marius' player busy or something?  His missing presence likely made that fight much harder.




His player was indeed missing, though as I told him, if he had been there, the Leech would have gone whole hog on him, leaving him with one truly rotten gnome


----------



## WarEagleMage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Was Marius' player busy or something?  His missing presence likely made that fight much harder.




Marius' player was sipping Coronas with his toes in the sand.  There aren't too many things that will make me miss D&D, but a free weekend at the beach will do the trick.    

That said, since the Leech didn't get his chance at the pyro Gnome, JollyDoc promptly ganked him upon his return.  Does our wily warmage return, only to set himself up for a fate worse than death...?  I guess we'll all have to wait for the update.


----------



## JollyDoc

WarEagleMage said:
			
		

> That said, since the Leech didn't get his chance at the pyro Gnome, JollyDoc promptly ganked him upon his return.




Gnomes...we hates gnomes!  We hates them forever!!!


----------



## JollyDoc

Just an update on the update.  We're taking the week off due to various personal commitments, so I'll be a little delayed in posting the update, but rest assured, it's worth waiting for.


----------



## carborundum

Well, if you really, _really_ have to ... I _suppose_ it should be okay...


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> JWe're taking the week off due to various personal commitments, so I'll be a little delayed in posting the update, ...



Wait a minute...you have personal commitments besides DnD?  Which brings me to the question what I am going to do this weekend without a JollyDoc update.



			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> J...but rest assured, it's worth waiting for.



We know that. Just don't take too long, pretty please.


----------



## darkhall-nestor

what was the axe that Tower Cleaver Took from the skeleton on the throne?


----------



## JollyDoc

darkhall-nestor said:
			
		

> what was the axe that Tower Cleaver Took from the skeleton on the throne?




It was a sunblade, but I made it a greataxe instead of a sword.


----------



## JollyDoc

DEALS WITH DEVILS

A thorough search of Red Foam Whaling turned up no hidden yuan-ti, but it did not reveal the real Harliss either.  Instead, in a stained burlap sack hidden in the Leech’s foul nest, they found the pirate captain’s gear, as evidenced by the unique marilith earrings Sepoto and Marius had seen her wearing when last they’d met.  Among her effects was a leather pouch which contained, along with several mundane items, a folded note on which had been written a brief message:

Esteemed Tyralandi,
The bearer of this note is a friend and associate of mine.  If you could aid her, I would be once again in your debt.  Please extend to her every courtesy.
Zimon Alenveer

“It seems we’ve found the next clue in our search,” Mandi said after reading the note aloud.  “Whoever this Zimon person is, he sent our missing pirate to someone named Tyralandi, ostensibly for aid.  I can only imagine that assistance has something to do with her vendetta against the Krakens.”

The remainder of the factory contained nothing useful, though in a storeroom Marius stumbled across an odd assortment of lanterns, costumes, bullhorns, rolls of thin wire and other miscellany that one would expect to find in a theater troupe.
“The old beggar did say this place was reputed to be haunted,” the gnome mused.  “If it truly was a Protectorate safe house, perhaps this helped them to maintain that illusion.”


----------



## JollyDoc

When the company departed the factory, it was near midnight, yet Scuttlecove seemed even more alive and bustling than it had in broad daylight.  They spent the next several hours visiting various businesses and bars in the hopes of finding some information as to the identities of Tyralandi and Zimon.  It was much more difficult ascertaining the latter than the former.  As it turned out, Zimon Alenveer was a local merchant who had been recently executed by the monks of Dire Hunger at the paid request of the Kraken Society.  No one seemed to know, or be willing to say why he came to the attention of the pirates, but it seemed a strange coincidence given his presumed relationship with Harliss.  As for Tyralandi, the Legionnaires were all but laughed at when they asked the locals if they knew of her.
“Know of her??” one gaslight doxy cackled.  “Why she’s only the Madame of THE most successful, and powerful brothel in Scuttlecove!  Porphyry House?  Ain’t you heard of it?”
It seemed that asking about Tyralandi in Scuttlecove was tantamount to asking if anyone in Shadowdale had heard of a wizard called Elminster.  According to the rumors, Porphyry House had once been run by yuan-ti cultists of Demogorgon, allied with a similar group in town called the Seventh Coil.  Five years past, a group of adventurers managed to defeat the cult and prevent the spread of a dangerous new drug called Demon’s Breath.  They accomplished this with the help of Tyralandi, a half-fiend nymph who made no secret of her devotion to the demon prince Graz’zt.  After the yuan-ti were defeated, Tyralandi took up the reigns of the brothel, and apparently turned it into something much more, since she was widely regarded as one of the main power players in Scuttlecove politics.

It was dawn before the six companions managed to piece together all their facts, and they decided to return to Red Foam Whaling for some rest before venturing to Porphyry House.  The crowds were still substantial despite the lateness (or earliness) of the hour, and it was while making their way across a particularly busy square that the Legionnaires were approached by a street vendor.
“Psst!” he whispered as he neared.  Looking around to make sure no passersby were paying attention, he opened his cloak, displaying a wide assortment of rings, necklaces, bracers and wands.
“Wanna’ buy some authentic magic?” he asked, eyes shifting about nervously.  “Top price!  Guaranteed!”
Mandi surreptitiously waved her own wand, which was concealed within the long sleeve of her gown, searching for the tell-tale aura of magic.  To her surprise, the items seemed genuine, but she was still skeptical.  It seemed improbable that such a vagabond would be in possession of such an array, and selling them at such ridiculous prices, barely a twentieth of their market value.  She shook her head in annoyance, and waved Tower Cleaver on.
“Ya sure?” the man asked.  How ‘bout you, big fella?” he said, darting in front of the minotaur.  
“Not wear jewelry,” Cleaver said, shortly.  “For cows.”
“Of course!” the man nodded, hastily backing away.  “Well then, guess no luck for me today!  Safe travel strangers!”

The vendor disappeared into the crowd with several nervous glances over his shoulder.
“Strange…” Mandi began thoughtfully, but then her eyes went suddenly wide, and blood spewed from her mouth.  In the span of a heartbeat, her vision went dark and she slumped bonelessly to the ground, a curved dagger sliding from her back as she fell.  Behind her stood a yuan-ti half-blood, his forked tongue flickering rapidly between his fangs.  He had seemingly appeared out of thin air.  A second assassin crouched nearby over the equally motionless form of Marius, the gnome’s blood pooling around him in a crimson stain.  As the remaining Legionnaires stared in shock and disbelief, two more yuan-ti materialized, and then suddenly the crowd was moving, most of them away from the murder scene, but six bystanders were moving forward, and as they came, their bodies shifted to that of heavily muscled, red-eyed apes…bar-igura!  Two of them leaped at Tower Cleaver, ripping and tearing with their teeth and claws, clinging to the minotaur like feral cats.  Another launched itself at Daelric, its talons ripping through the priest’s armor.  In a matter of seconds, the company was surrounded.

Daelric panicked.  The young priest had been in many combats, but he had always been adept at keeping himself out of the line of fire while still supporting his comrades.  Now he was completely in the thick of things and completely out of his element.  For a moment, his eyes scanned the melee, searching for Mandi.  Surely she would have a way out of this mess.  Then he remembered what had happened, and glanced down at his feet where the cold, dead eyes of the sorceress gazed back at him.  He ducked the reaching arms of the bar-igura and knelt beside her, a desperate prayer on his lips.  A simple revival would not do.  It would leave her too weak to defend herself, and she would certainly succumb again.  No, he had only one option.  He would have to bring Mandi back as a revenant, half-alive and half-dead.  His hands pulsed with black light as he pressed them over her heart.  Her body arched and her eyes opened as she gasped in a lungful of air.  To her credit, it only took an instant for the elf maid to realize her plight, and that of her allies.  Not even taking the time to regain her feet, she began casting.  A nimbus of light swirled around the combatants, and a moment later all of the Legionnaires vanished, only to reappear at the far corner of the courtyard in a battle phalanx with herself, Daelric, and the body of Marius hedged in by Tower Cleaver, Sepoto and Octurus.  

It didn’t take long for their opponents to realize what had happened, and they reacted with astonishing speed.  One of the bar-igura bounded towards Cleaver on all fours.  The minotaur braced himself for the impact, but at the last second the demon seized him by the wrist and both of them disappeared, popping up in the corner of the square opposite the main melee, effectively separating Cleaver from his teammates.  Anticipating their brother’s maneuver, two more bar-igura rushed across the yard and pounced on the minotaur again, biting and clawing savagely.
Meanwhile, a third demon charged into the gap left by Cleaver, pinning Daelric to the wall with its weight and opening its jaws inches from his face, fangs bared and fetid breath washing over the pale priest.  An instant later, another of the demons teleported on Daelric’s opposite side, standing over the still-prone Mandi.

Octurus was in motion, a blur of movement that the bar-igura could barely track.  His scimitars twirled with deadly speed as he tore into the demon that held Daelric.  Again and again his blades bit deep, and then the ape tattoo on his chest roared to life, and as it did so, the Maztican scythed his arms apart, rending the demon in half.  As he turned towards the second one, however, he saw that in his rage and distraction, the yuan-ti had moved in, and now had him boxed in on all sides.

Tower Cleaver bellowed like a bull elephant, and the bar-igura all took involuntary steps back.  As they did, his axe swung like a great pendulum, raking across all three of them.  Before they could react, his backswing cleaved two of them in half, leaving only one staring wild-eyed in disbelief.

Mandi furrowed her brow in concentration, and as she did so, a pair of black-feathered wings sprouted from her back.  She spread them wide and lifted herself into the air, grimacing as one of the bar-igura, and a dagger wielding yuan-ti slashed at her as she rose.  Once she had reached a safe height, she spoke another spell, transforming her body into that of a large ice devil before settling to earth again, this time outside the ring of assailants.

Daelric knelt again beside Marius.  Repeating the prayer he had cast on Mandi, he stood just as the gnome returned part-way from the afterlife.  Marius’ reaction was quite different from that of the sorceress, however.  His eyes stared wildly around, shock and dismay registering within them.
“What have you done?” he wailed, pulling at Daelric’s tabard.  “It was my time!  There was no coming back!  What have you done!?”
Daelric merely stared at the wizard in confusion, not comprehending what he was saying.  Abruptly Mandi’s voice cut through his bewilderment.
“Marius!” the fiendish sorceress shouted.  “Get hold of yourself!  You’re back and we’ve got problems!  Wallow in self-pity after, or you surely will return the afterlife, perhaps missing a few limbs!”
Before the gnome could respond or react, however, another bar-igura joined the fray, and the pair of them began clawing and biting Daelric.  The priest threw up his hands, vainly trying to defend himself, and as he did so three of the yuan-ti turned their attention from Octurus and plunged their knives into Daelric’s unprotected midsection.  Blood bubbled from his lips as he gasped for breath, but his lungs didn’t seem to have the strength.  He sagged against the wall and slid to the cobblestones, a dark swath of blood staining the brick behind him as he fell.

Octurus cried out as the priest dropped, and he leaped at the demons that surrounded his friend.  As he moved, however, another of the yuan-ti pierced his side with its serrated blade, and the Maztican felt as if a mule had kicked him in the ribs.  He could not seem to catch his breath, and he could hear air hissing out of the wound.  Pushing his pain to the back of his mind, he forced himself to keep moving, blades twirling like dervishes to all sides.  The nearest yuan-ti felt as if it were caught in a tornado of steel, its flesh was ripped and rent.

Tower Cleaver’s last opponent gave a good accounting of itself as it faced certain death in the eyes of the rabid minotaur.  It slashed at the oncoming behemoth, opening deep tears in the barbarian’s legs, but it was futile.  Cleaver lifted the demon into the air with an upward swing of his axe.  The bar-igura literally exploded into a haze of blood and gore.  The minotaur never slowed, his momentum carrying him like a tidal wave towards his friends and their foes.

Marius could barely concentrate.  Images of what he’d seen while between life and death kept flashing over and over again behind his eyes.  Could that possibly be what awaited him?  What Daelric had given him only temporary respite from?  They had told him that if he tried to escape, the consequences would be unimaginable.  Unimaginable…
Shaking his head to clear it, he looked around, desperately trying to sort out friend from foe.  A mass of fur and snarling teeth loomed over him, and reflexively he unleashed his magic, watching as the demon disintegrated into a cloud of dust.  A moment later, the last of the bar-iguras met the same fate at the hands of Mandi.
“Glad to see you’re back in the game,” she said, offering Marius her hand.  He took it, and climbed shakily to his feet, managing a weak smile in response.

Cleaver hit the yuan-ti like a battering ram, hewing all around him with his axe, but the assassins were as fast as their serpentine brethren.  Dodging to the minotaur’s flanks, they sank their blades repeatedly into his tough hide, circling just beyond his reach as they darted in and then back.  Suddenly, Octurus was among them, his howling blades driving them towards Tower Cleaver.  One quickly succumbed to the Maztican’s fury, while two more fell beneath Cleaver’s scythe-like blade.  The last of snake-men dove at the barbarian, sinking his dagger deep behind Cleaver’s collar-bone, sending a geyser of blood fountaining into the air.  Tower Cleaver keened like a wounded animal, vainly trying to staunch the flow.  His opponent slipped behind him, waiting for a fatal opening, but as the assassin prepared to strike, a beam of black energy struck him between the shoulders, and he sagged to the earth, a shriveled husk.

“Nice shot,” Mandi said, patting Marius on the back.  “But we’ve got to get Daelric back on his feet or we’re all dead.  That miracle he cast will only last a few more minutes and then you and I both go back to the afterlife.  We have to make sure he can bring us back again.”
Marius turned and coughed into his hand, hiding the sudden blanching of his face.  The thought of just a few moments in that place nearly paralyzed him with fear, but the thought of what would happen if they were to catch him and make good on their promise threatened to send him into catatonia.

Octurus quickly knelt beside the unconscious form of Daelric and forced a healing elixir down the priest’s throat.  Daelric coughed and spat as the drought revived him.  Octurus helped him to his feet and he immediately went to Tower Cleaver’s side, healing the pale minotaur’s wound before he bled to death.  Next he turned to Mandi and Marius, just as the faint spark of life he’d given them left their bodies.  As they collapsed, he placed a hand on both their chests and called on his patron again.  This time when the arcanists revived, it was in a much weakened state, but at least they were truly alive.


----------



## JollyDoc

Porphyry House was a rose blooming in a graveyard, though its physical beauty bore an undeniably sinister taint.  When the Legionnaires entered the sumptuous parlor, they were greeted by a scantily clad beauty that instantly caught the attention of every male in the room.  
“May I be of service?” she purred.
“I’m certain you could,” Mandi smirked, elbowing aside her hormonally challenged comrades, “but not in the way you might think.  We wish to speak with Tyralandi.”
The concubine raised one eyebrow prettily.  “Do you have an appointment?”
“No,” Mandi sighed, “but we have information that she would be very interested in.”
“I see,” the woman said absently, glancing down at a register on the podium in front of her.  “I’m sure if you leaver your names and the nature of your business, I can pass along the message to the Madame and she will be in touch.”
Mandi’s eyes flashed, and when she leaned her elbow on the podium and whispered, the air of menace could not be missed.  “Listen, wench.  You just run along and fetch your mistress.  I’ve asked you once nicely.  Tell her we are friends of Harliss Javell.  If you don’t, you will soon get to see how you enjoy life in the form of a dog when I turn you out into the streets with all of the randy mongrels there.  You’ll get to find out the true meaning of the word ‘bitch!’”
The girl’s eyes went round, and all the color drained from her cheeks.  Stammering incoherently, she quickly exited the parlor.  When she returned a few moments later, she bowed low and bade the company to follow her to Tyralandi.

The mistress of Porphyry House was simply stunning.  Even Mandi found her breath momentarily taken away at the woman’s beauty.  The term ‘woman,’ however was a stretch, for Tyralandi was anything but human.  To be sure, her body was that of a perfect humanoid female, and her style of dress left little to the imagination, but the leathery wings which sprouted from her shoulders, the small horns that peaked from beneath her raven hair, and the petite fangs that barely dimpled the skin of her full bottom lip marked her as something else entirely.  Then there were the elaborate tattoos that twisted and coiled on every visible surface of her skin, so intricate in their details that they made Octurus’ own look like cave drawings in comparison.  The madam was draped languidly across a chaise, but her eyes were keenly alert and she took in every detail of her visitors at a glance.
“I am told that you think yourselves worthy of my time,” she said in a husky voice.  
Mandi stepped forward, extending the note they had found among Harliss’ effects.  
“We’re searching for this woman,” the sorceress said without preamble.  “She first made the acquaintance of some of my colleagues in a place called Kraken’s Cove, where they rescued her from her own crew who had been transformed into savage creatures by an item created by the cult of Demogorgon.  We know she was in Scuttlecove recently, for one of my team received a dream-message from her.  She is here to exact her revenge from the Kraken Society, whom she believes orchestrated the attack on her crew.”
Tyralandi glanced at the note and then her piercing gaze met Mandi’s.
“You are either very trusting, or very foolish to reveal so much to someone you’ve just met, especially in Scuttlecove.  Such bravado could get you killed in a variety of different ways.”  She unfolded herself from her lounge chair and began pacing casually around the group, examining them from all angles.
“However, since you have been so forthcoming with me, I shall return the favor…to an extent.  The woman you seek did come to me several days ago with a request for a Dream spell.  We use this dweomer often to grant certain…unusual…requests by our paying customers.  Her money was good and I must admit I have a certain soft spot in my heart for female swashbucklers.  I don’t know what message was sent, nor to whom, but I do know where your friend is now.”  A cold smile lifted the corners of her inviting mouth slightly.  The silence stretched out for several long moments.
“Well?”  Mandi asked at length.  “Are you going to tell us, or do we have to guess?”
Tyralandi’s eyes became heavy and lidded as she looked coolly askance at the elf.
“Most people who come here pay hundreds in gold just to come into my presence,” she replied.  “For those who actually seek something from me, the price is much higher.”
“I see,” Mandi said, her voice dropping several degrees.  “And what would your price be for such information?”
Tyralandi stretched lazily, a motion that caused several pulses in the room to quicken.  
“As I said, I have a certain fondness for Harliss Javell, and so the price I name should be one that you can meet with little hardship.”  She paused, and her amber eyes leveled directly at Marius.  She crooked one finger at the gnome and grinned coyly.
“A lock of your hair is all that I ask.”
“Forget it!” Mandi snapped.  “I’m no fool, and no novice at the arcane arts.  I know full well what you can do with such a ‘gift.’”
Tyralandi shrugged.  “I assure you, I mean your handsome little friend no harm.  It is merely a token for my collection…a sign of good faith.”
“Marius, don’t!”  Mandi commanded.  “You know as well as I the many ways she could bind you to her.”
Marius bowed his head, silent for a moment.  Abruptly, he raised his eyes again to Tyralandi and nodded.  “I agree to your price,” he said.  

Tyralandi slunk cat-like towards the warmage, letting one of her hands casually caress his face as she moved around him.  She wove her fingers into his fiery red hair and then leaned down so that her lips softly brushed his ear.
“I smell death upon you,” she whispered so that only he could hear.  “I know that you are marked.  Should your soul pass beyond this world as it is, it shall not be as a petitioner.  No, you are meant for special things.  You have drawn unwanted attention to yourself in your short, violent life, and the cost to you in the hereafter will be eternal.  You have no patron to claim you from those who would profit from a soul such as yours.  No one to protect you, and now you have the ire of the Prince of Demons as well.  I will take what you have offered, and I shall offer you a gift in return.  My Prince is powerful as well.  He could use the services of one such as you, and in turn, He would guarantee your safe passage in the beyond.  Think on my words long, mage.”  She then plucked several hairs from his head and returned to her seat.
“Now,” she said, waving impatiently, “be gone.  I am weary and I have many other patrons who await my attention.  Harliss Javell is currently a guest of the Sisters of Lamentation at the Birdcage.  No doubt she was taken there by enemies eager to learn something from her.  If you plan on going there, I would be careful if I were you.  The Sisters have particularly enthralling singing voices.”
With that the Legionnaires were escorted from Porphyry house back outside into the harsh sunlight that did nothing to brighten the slums around them.


----------



## JollyDoc

As it turned out, the Birdcage was another brothel, though according to word on the street, the Sisters of Lamentation dealt more in information brokering than pleasure, though the two were not mutually exclusive.  The building itself was a small gray tower also known as the Crooked Spire due to a steeple built of cheap timber that had developed a singular twist over the years.  Luridly colored flags fluttered from the top of the building and numerous bas-relief carvings of stylized harpies armed with whips and daggers decorated the outside walls.  

“Enthralling voices,” Daelric muttered as he looked at the images.  “Harpy prostitutes??  That’s just…wrong!”
“That’s saying a lot considering what we’ve already seen of this city,” Mandi pointed out.  “I doubt we have anything to worry about from their hypnotic songs, but just the same it would not pay to have our front line suddenly turn on us.  Can you do something about that?”
The priest nodded then went to Sepoto, Tower Cleaver and Octurus, placing his hands over each of their ears in turn.  When he removed his hands, each of the warriors found themselves to be stone deaf.
‘Don’t worry,’ Mandi’s voice spoke into their heads.  ‘I’ve linked us all telepathically.  We can communicate freely and Daelric can undo his spell when we’re done here.”

They found the front door unlocked, leading into an entry parlor.  The walls of the garishly painted chamber depicted scenes that would make even the most brazen streetwalker blush.  A fine oak cabinet stood to the left of the entrance door, and a low table with a bottle of port and several crystal glasses stood next to a few padded chairs near a door to the south.  A glassy eyed man stood before a podium wearing what looked to be a very uncomfortable outfit of leather and peacock feathers.  Sepoto suppressed a snicker.  At Mandi’s nod, Cleaver stepped forward, hefted his axe and planted its blade in the wood of the podium, sending a crack through it all the way to its base.
“We’re looking for Harliss Javell,” Mandi said, “and no, we don’t have an appointment, and we won’t leave a message.”
The gimp’s eyes unfocused for a moment, and he stared in confusion at the axe.
“I have not heard of such a person,” he said in a flat monotone.  “I can take down your names if you like.  Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Perhaps I did not make myself clear,” Mandi hissed.  “We know she is here.  Now, either you open that door and take us to the Sisters, or my large friend here will use your head as a key!”
Again, the man looked impassive.
“The Sisters only see clients by appointment.  I do not have a key to the door.”
Mandi sighed in exasperation.  If the slave were carrying a key, she could not imagine where he would be hiding it, given the nature of his attire.  Or perhaps she could imagine, but just chose not to.
‘Cleaver, open the door,’ she commanded.
The minotaur planted his feet before the stout door and went to work.  In seconds, the portal lay in splinters before him, and the group hurried through, certain they had lost any element of surprise.

The chamber they found themselves in was a vast, garishly painted space of great height that seemed to consist of the entire central mass of the building.  The walls were decorated to a height of thirty feet with paintings of an erotic nature that left nothing to the imagination.  The interior of the spire above was a tangled network of beams and supports.  Four huge oak beams extended upward into the cathedral-like space, rising around a huge birdcage made of metal and crystal that dangled from the rafters by several iron chains and creaking ropes.  The chamber’s floor was thickly carpeted, and a balcony ran around the edge of the room at a height of fifteen feet, granting access to several narrow doorways.  A handful of vapid slaves, dressed similarly to the doorman milled about the room, cleaning carpets and walls.  Listless and quiet, they ceased their tasks and scurried for cover when the Legionnaires burst in.  As the six companions gazed up into the recesses of the tower, they saw a figure crouched among the rafters.  It was definitely a harpy, but like none any of the group had ever seen or read about.  She bore distinctively avian lower extremities and leathery wings, but the rest of her naked body was that of a humanoid female.  Her entire physique, however, had been shaved bald and her skin was festooned with tattoos and horrific piercings, some of them little more than nails driven into her hands, feet and scalp.  As she glared down at the intruders, she began to shriek.
“Filth!  Leave this place!  You have no business here!  Chasten!  Scourge!  Come quickly!  We have uninvited guests!”
Immediately, two doors on the upper balcony opened and a pair of harpies fluttered up into the rafters, each similarly adorned as the first.
“Who are they, Vivisectia?” one of the newcomers demanded.
“We are here for Harliss Javell!”  Mandi shouted up to them.  “Giver her to us now, and we will leave in peace!”
“That wouldn’t exactly be good for business, now would it?” the one called Vivisectia sneered.  “What kind of customers would we have if we simply gave our services away?  I have a counter-proposal.  Why don’t you all just put down your arms and open your ears.  Your new uniforms are waiting for you!”  

The three Sisters began to sing, their voices at once haunting and horrifying.  Mandi, Daelric and Marius felt the power of the harpies’ song washing over them, but they were prepared.  With great efforts of will, the trio forced the intrusive lyrics from their mind and prepared to deal with the vile songstresses.  Mandi acted first, conjuring a small, impermeable prison of pure force around the one called Chasten.  The harpy’s song was instantly silenced, and she flew around her prison, slamming into the walls like a bird trying to fly through newly cleaned glass.  Next, the sorceress turned her attention to Vivisectia.
“Your tune is catchy, and has a good beat,” Mandi laughed, “but can you dance to it?”
With that, she hurled a blast of mental power at the harpy, and to Vivisectia’s horror and disbelief, her feet began to shuffle and tap of their own volition.  Within a matter of moments, she was dancing and cavorting like a sideshow fool along her narrow wooden beam, having to focus her total concentration on the movements in order to avoid plummeting to the floor below.  That left only Scourge still singing.  Marius raised one finger and pointed it at the Sister, and black fire arrowed straight for her heart.  Her voice cut off in mid-lyric as she died and toppled from her perch, crashing to the floor in a bloody heap.
“Good to have you back,” Mandi said, though she could still tell something was different about the warmage.  His eyes lacked their familiar spark they had whenever he was destroying something.  Shrugging it aside as post-death depression, the sorceress hurled another spell at Vivisectia.  The harpy’s dance came to its final conclusion as she imploded into a puff of dust and smoke.  Chasten could only watch as her sisters died, and when the invisible walls confining her abruptly vanished, she knew her time had come.  A second wave of black energy from Marius sent her to join her kin in whatever infernal choir they would sing in for all of eternity.

‘You didn’t leave much for us to do,’ Octurus said through the mental link, disappointment in his voice.
‘Don’t be so sure,’ Mandi said, gazing up at the giant cage suspended above them.  ‘I know you can’t hear it, but there is some sort of awful keening coming from up there.  I pray it’s not Harliss making that noise.  It barely sounds human.  Why don’t you three get up there and take a look around?’
Quickly, the three warriors quaffed potions allowing them to take flight, and then soared up into the spire, dodging past the rafters as they drew level with the cage.  It was huge, some thirty feet in height and fifteen in girth.  The iron bars were covered with dozens of ragged barbs, and manacles hung from several places.  Whips, hooked chains, knives, leather cords and other devices for torture sat on metal shelves here and there.  The cage floor was a filthy tangle of reeking rags and bones.  Near the top of the cage sat a smaller one, only five feet across and just as tall.  In that cage was a pile of rags arranged in what looked to be a nest.  Sepoto recognized the unconscious, beaten figure on the floor of the larger cage as Harliss Javell.  Standing in the entrance of the smaller cage was a figure that superficially resembled a human child, but with slug-white skin, tiny claws, black, empty eyes and a mouth filled with needle-sharp teeth.  It opened its jaws wider than should have been possible and hissed as the three Legionnaires approached.  Then it flopped to the floor beside Harliss and leaned over her threateningly.  Tower Cleaver didn’t hesitate.  He bashed aside the barred, metal door of the birdcage and quickly followed Sepoto and Octurus inside.  As the little abomination opened its mouth again to sink its teeth into Harliss’ neck, two scimitars, an axe and a spike chain separated its head and all of its limbs from its body.

Back on the floor of the tower, Marius came to stand next to Mandi as she watched the battle above.
“It seems you have things well in hand here,” the gnome said flatly.  Mandi looked at him sharply, her eyes narrowing.
“Yes?  What of it?”
“I’m leaving,” Marius said, his eyes meeting hers.  “I don’t have the stomach for this any longer.  I’ve seen death one too many times, and the petty minutiae of this world no longer concern me.  I have witnessed what the after life holds for me, and I am none to eager to rush into its embrace.  I won’t face death again needlessly.  I have faith in you, Mandi.  You’ll get by, but be careful.  The road to Hell is paved with the best of intentions.  Trust me on this.”
With that, he turned and walked out of the Birdcage, disappearing into the bustling crowd in the street beyond.


----------



## carborundum

Wowzers! The artillery has left the field - oh dear.


What happened to poor Marius in there? He's not himself. Is it a case of one man leaves, a new man enters?

Another great update - thanks JD!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Woha, I just thought you put the afterlife memory in there to account for Marius' new Thrall of Graz'zt level or something. Is it a player leaving or is it just a PC change?

Great ambush, great retalliation, great update.


----------



## Aracase

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Is it a player leaving or is it just a PC change?



WarEagleMage can expound on his reason, but he said that after '3 strikes' Marius was done.  He's not leaving, just a PC change.


----------



## carborundum

What are your Death rules? Lose a level? Gain a negative level? Lose half a level xp?


----------



## Aracase

carborundum said:
			
		

> What are your Death rules? Lose a level? Gain a negative level? Lose half a level xp?



JollyDoc can confirm this, but I think it's...come back at the lowest party level, and a new character is one level lower than the lowest party level.

Since I'm the new player and TC hasn't died, I'm not sure.

However, I think revenance and revivify bring the PC back with no level loss.


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> What are your Death rules? Lose a level? Gain a negative level? Lose half a level xp?





Revenance and Revivify can bring you back with no level loss, as can True Res. of course.  Raise Dead and Resurrection will put you at the half-way xp point one level below.  If a player brings in a new character, that character comes in at the level of the lowest level current party member.  Technically, there's no limit to the number of times a PC can die, but Bryant (Marius' player) felt that three was adequate and Marius was not destined to live on as a playable character.


----------



## WarEagleMage

We all have our little D&D quirks.  One of my personal issues is that death can become kind of cheap with the many rez options that are available.  I have always had my own personal 3 strikes and you're out rule.  Thanks to JollyDoc for such an awesome send off.  I've got two ideas for the next guy - melee and caster.  I'm leaning caster.  Will the players get the a member of the class they've been wanting for so long?  Maybe...


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

What? Finally a "good" mage? 

Sorry about that, Mandi.


----------



## Supar

i know i will miss just the brutal artillery that was marius. My fav? Sudden widen sudden empowered sculpted Fireball he used when we faced that army.. *sniff* 4 20foot aoes


----------



## JollyDoc

Sunday Teaser
_______________

Harliss is recovered from the Bird Cage as well as one other unexpected ally who is caught in a rather compromising situation...

Harliss's tale is told, and a new Legionnaire joinst the quest

All roads lead to the Seventh Coil and in a pitched, multi-level battle at the Minting House, even Daelric is forced to go mano-a-mano!!


----------



## carborundum

Who's the new boy? Tell! Tell! Tell!


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Who's the new boy? Tell! Tell! Tell!




Well, his name is Gregor, and like his namesake he does engage in experimentation with plants...the big kind that like to slap you around, as well as the slimy kind that just sort of...dissolve your flesh...


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc was wise enough to not update the DRAMATIS PERSONAE section before his actual update. Anyway, plants are nasty, as shown in the fight with the plant mommy's children.


----------



## JollyDoc

MAYHEM AT THE MINTING HOUSE

Harliss Javell’s eyes fluttered open and the first thing she saw was Daelric’s deceptively angelic face leaning over her.  What the priest saw in those eyes was not something he expected from what he’d heard of the tough pirate captain…fear.
“Are they dead?” she whispered.
“Who?” Daelric asked, wondering if she was referring to her crew.
“Th’harpies!” Harliss cried, her eyes growing wider.  
“Captain, it’s me, Sepoto,” the goliath said, crouching down next to her.  “Do you remember me?  You’re safe now.  The harpies are all dead.  We took care of them.  Can you tell us what happened?
Harliss shook her head violently.  “Not here,” she breathed.  “I won’t spend another minute in this infernal place!”
“I understand,” Sepoto nodded, “but we need to look around a bit more before we go.  Will you be ok waiting in the foyer?  We won’t be long, I promise.”
After a moment, the pirate nodded and the crusader helped her to her feet and led her back into the entry hall where she stood nervously near the exit door, looking as if she might bolt at any second.

Much of the interior of the Bird Cage seemed given over to various torture chambers, most of them classic in their décor, but some outfitted more like a noble’s bedchamber with a sinister twist.  The other rooms were either waiting parlors for prospective clients or servants’ quarters.  It was while searching one of these latter rooms that Sepoto made a peculiar discovery.
“Um…Mandi,” he called.  “I think you’d better come in here and see this.”
The sorceress walked across the atrium and peered into the room.
“What in the name of…?” she gasped.  The room contained two bunk beds and a small table, scattered with several sheaves of paper.  Sprawled atop one of the upper bunks, his feet dangling over the edge almost to the floor, was none other than Lugnut, dressed in the same outlandish feather and leather harness that the other servants wore.  He was sound asleep, his tongue lolling.  
“This ought to be good,” Sepoto said, stifling a snort of laughter.  He walked over to the sleeping ogre and shook him, none to gently.  Lugnut’s eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright, striking his head on the low ceiling, and then tumbling heavily to the floor.  As he struggled to his feet, he bowed low, mumbling.
“Sorry mistress.  I’ll go and serve the tea now.”
“Lugnut, it’s me, Sepoto.  What in the world happened to you, man?”
The ogre gazed at him, bleary-eyed and confused, no recognition in his eyes.
“He’s charmed,” Mandi said, disgust in her voice.  “Daelric!  We need your assistance!”
The priest hurried into the room, and after his initial shock wore off, he set about breaking the enchantment placed upon the ogre ranger.  Several minutes later, Lugnut stared about in confusion and embarrassment.
“I simply cannot wait to hear this story,” Mandi said, tapping her foot impatiently.
Lugnut hung his head, his eyes on the floor.  “Near as I remember, Tolin wanted us t’split up when we got here.  He sent Bombur with Zan, while him an’ me asked ‘round at some of the local joints fer news about Vanthus or Lavinia.  Rumors sent us here, and Tolin said I should pose as a customer, only turns out it weren’t that kind of whore house.  Last thing I remember was telling the fella at the front desk I was there t’see the Sisters.”
“Seems like you saw more of them than you wanted,” Mandi sneered.  “So Tolin’s grand plan consisted of splitting up his crew and sending you of all people in here as a decoy??” 
Lugnut nodded miserably.
“Brilliant!” Mandi snorted.  “Well, I can tell you where Bombur ended up.  His corpse is hanging from a chain in the town plaza.  We haven’t found any sign of the other two.  In any event, it seems as if we’re stuck with you now.  Find yourself some decent clothes and wait for us in the foyer.”

A thorough search of the rest of the establishment turned up little of interest, save for several written agreements with hundreds of prominent locals for services, including one past-due bill for the Seventh Coil for interrogations of “a feisty and foul-mouthed wench.”
When the group gathered up Harliss and Lugnut and departed the Bird Cage, a small crowd had gathered on the street outside, drawn by the sounds of combat.  No constables were visible, and no one seemed to care that the Sisters of Lamentation had been slaughtered.  The crowd parted to let the Legionnaires pass, and although many eyes watched them depart, one watcher in particular followed them at an inconspicuous distance.
__________________________________________________________

With Lugnut’s help, Tower Cleaver managed to haul Bombur’s carcass down from the plaza chains and lay him on the cobblestones.
“You want me to do it right here…in front of everyone?” Daelric asked Mandi.
“Why not?” the elf answered.  “As far as any prying eyes know, you’re simply a necromancer reanimating a corpse.  Seems a pretty common practice around here.”
Daelric shrugged and set about his task, murmuring prayers over the dead dwarf as he spread healing salves across Bombur’s wounds.  After several minutes of this, the dwarven priest gasped as life returned to him, and wonder filled his eyes as he saw the familiar faces of his saviors.
“I…I don’t believe it!” he said.
“What I don’t believe is the monumental stupidity that got you into this predicament in the first place!”  Mandi railed.  “What part of ‘lay low until we find you,’ did you fail to understand??”
“I tried t’tell Tolin that,” Bombur said, shaking his head, “but he would’na hear it.  He said this was our chance to show Lavinia that the Jade Ravens should be her protectors.  Said we could show up your crew.”
“I trust you see the error of your ways now,” Mandi said, coolly.  “Where are Tolin and Zan?”
“I dinnae know,” the dwarf answered.  “Tolin went with Lug, but me an’Zan was ambushed by them snake men.  They said somethin’ about takin’ him t’th’Mintin’ House fer recruitment.  I’m afraid he may be done fer by now.”
At mention of this last, Harliss’s eyebrows raised in interest.
“You know what he’s talking about?”  Mandi asked.  
Harliss looked around.  “’Tis not a safe place for loose talk, lassie.  Do ye have a hideout?”
“As a matter of fact,” Mandi nodded, “we do.”
________________________________________________________________

Once they were safely back at Red Foam Whaling, Harliss began her tale.
“When I left Kraken’s Cove, I vowed t’get even with th’Kraken’s themselves fer not tellin’ me what it was I was transportin’ in me ship’s hold.  ‘Twas because o’them that I lost me crew and me ship.  I went on foot through th’jungle till I found th’beach where that back stabbin’ son-of-a-whore Vanderboren staged his attack.  He’d left behind several skiffs an’ I took one, and made me way to a Rundeen fort.  From there, I managed t’fast talk me way onto a bigger ship, and made me way here eventually.  After I seen what just one o’those black pearls could do, and knowin’ that the Kraken’s had more, I wanted t’see what they was up to.   It took me a few months, and I had several close calls with them cannibal monks and the Kraken’s watch-dog monkey demons, but I finally made some headway by findin’ th’Protectorate.  With their help, I learned plenty about the Kraken fleet, and come damn close t’findin’ the location o’their hideout, but while I was spyin’ on one o’their crews, I heard’em talkin’ nonsense about Vanderboren comin’ back from th’dead and bringin’ his sister t’the base with’im.  Well, this made me think o’you and yer crew, boyo,” she said to Sepoto, “an’ I figured if ye were still employed by th’lady, then ye might be interested in what I’d found, and ye might be willin’ t’help me get me payback.  The Protectorate put me in touch with Tyralandi, and it was she that give me the dreamin’ magic so’s I could get me message to ye.  But it were while I was waitin’ fer yer arrival here that the Seventh Coil attacked th’Protectorate, killin’ every last one o’em and takin’ me prisoner.  The thing is, just afore th’snake men attacked, I’d found out about one o’their safe houses, a place called th’Mintin’ House, just like yer friend said.  If anywhere in Scuttlecove holds th’secret o’where th’Krakens’ base is, that’d be it.”

Just then, a knock sounded at the front door of the warehouse.  At a quick nod from Mandi, Tower Cleaver wrenched the door open and seized the figure standing on the other side in one pumpkin-sized fist, lifting him bodily into the air and then pinning him against a wall.
“Wait!” the figure shouted.  “I’m a friend!  Please, listen to what I have to say!”
The cloaked man was human, dressed in the nondescript garb of a forester, and carrying only a scimitar belted at his waist.  His hair was tied loosely in a pony tail, and a scruffy goatee covered his chin.  There was nothing remarkable about him at all, but his grey eyes caught Mandi’s attention.  They spoke of having seen many things despite the man’s middling age.
“Speak quickly,” the sorceress said with quiet menace, “but know that if I don’t care for what you have to say, Cleaver will tear your arms off.”
“Fair enough,” the man nodded, still suspended several feet off the ground.  “My name is Gregor, and I’ve been observing you since you came into the city.”
At that, Cleaver’s grip tightened.
“He doesn’t like being spied on,” Mandi said with a wicked smile.
“I wasn’t spying,” Gregor replied, calm in his voice despite his precarious position.  “I simply had to be sure of your intentions before I made contact.  I am a servant of Silvanus, and it is in His service that I have come to this forsaken place.  His visions have shown me that a great darkness threatens all of Faerun which threatens the precarious balance upon which our existence is poised.  The nature of this threat has not been made clear to me, but what I saw led me here, to Scuttlecove, where I knew I must wait for others whose purpose paralleled my own.  I knew you would come here.  It was foretold to me.  I was almost certain when I first saw your group, but I had to be one-hundred percent, so I followed you.  When I saw the places your path went and the enemies who stood against you, I knew for sure that you were the ones I sought.  Please believe me.  I seek to aid you in your quest, for it is my own as well.”
Mandi considered the man’s words for a moment, then looked to Daelric and nodded.  The priest uttered a prayer, and then turned his glowing eyes on the druid.
“He’s clean,” Daelric said at length, “and I perceive no treachery in his words or his demeanor.”
At a gesture from Mandi, Cleaver lowered Gregor to the ground.
“Well, if you are sincere in your offer,” the sorceress said, smiling, “then there are some things you should know…”
____________________________________________________________________

A few hours later, Lugnut and Bombur were left at Red Foam with instructions to remain there for one day, and then to seek out the Sea Wyvern if the Legionnaires had not returned.  As for the Legion, it was decided that Gregor be allowed to accompany them to the Minting House, if only for his knowledge of the dynamics of Scuttlecove’s warring factions.  Mandi certainly did not trust the man, nor take him at face value, but if he provided one more warm body between her and a horde of yuan-ti, then so much the better.  Harliss also accompanied the group, against Mandi’s better judgment, but the pirate captain would not hear any attempts to leave her behind.  She had a personal vendetta to settle, and there would be no talking her out of it.

The Minting House was a narrow brick building sandwiched between a boarded-up warehouse and a blackened alchemy shop.  The place had three stories under a steeply gabled roof, and a towering chimney of great size thrust up from its peak.  Mandi wasted no time with subtlety as the group approached the front door.  She meant to hit the yuan-ti fast and hard before they could prepare any organized defense.  Lifting her wand, she tapped on the door, causing it to swing open and then Tower Cleaver rushed inside.  The room beyond was empty, and the windows overlooking the street were boarded up.  The minotaur cocked his head.  Had that been the faint scuff of a boot coming from the floor above?  Snorting, he squeezed himself into the narrow stairwell which climbed to the second story.  As he reached the second floor landing, he found himself in a crude barracks of sorts, with several straw pallets strewn about the room.  Six men dressed in chain link shirts and brandishing scimitars stood at the ready, but before they could move, Octurus and Harliss Javell both darted between Cleaver’s legs and somersaulted into the area, rolling to their feet behind the thugs.  One of the brigands slashed at the pirate as she tumbled past, but his blade caught her only a glancing blow.  That unfortunate found himself flanked by Harliss and the Maztican, who made quick work of him with a flurry of thrusts and slashes from scimitars, rapier and dagger.  Octurus then whirled towards a second ruffian, whipping his blade to within a hair’s breadth of the man’s face, leaving a neat slice across both his lips.  The thug stumbled back reflexively, his hand going to the gushing wound.

Daelric was still on the ground floor, having rendered himself invisible so that he would be ready to dash in and tend to the wounds of his companions if necessary.  Suddenly, the basement door swung wide and two more warriors started across the room and towards the stairs where his friends were still bottle-necked by the massive form of Tower Cleaver on the landing above.  The priest wanted to shout a warning, but at the same time he was wary of giving away his own position.  Gregor spared him the decision, however, when the druid caught the brigands’ movement from the corner of his eye.  He stepped out of the stair well, and as he did so, his body began to grow and change, taking on the appearance of a large, bipedal plant with massive, crushing arms.  The charging thugs checked their momentum, eyes growing wide as they saw the creature barring their way.  One tree-like appendage swung out like a battering ram, cuffing one of the men across his temple.  The second man tried to dart under Gregor’s flailing limbs, but a backhanded slap sent him stumbling.  The first warrior quickly regained his composure and thrust his blade into the druid’s bark-like skin.  A thin stream of sap trickled from the wound, but the man didn’t have time to appreciate his handiwork as he was pounded twice more by the lumbering plant-thing before him.

Tower Cleaver managed to free his arms from the cramped walls of the stair, and he swung his axe before him like a reaping scythe, slashing across three of the brigands and disemboweling them all.  Then his backswing caught a fourth between the neck and shoulder, neatly severing his head.  As the last remaining thug stared open mouthed, Harliss seized him by the hair, jerked his head back and quickly slit his throat.
“That’s fer Drevoraz,” she hissed.
Suddenly, the hairs rising on her arm gave her a split-second warning and she shoved Octurus aside, shouting, “Hit the deck!” as a pair of sizzling bolts of electricity cut through the air where they’d been standing a moment before.  Coming down the stairs leading to the third floor were what appeared to be almost a dozen human-armed, snake-bodied yuan-ti.  On closer inspection, however, Harliss noticed that she several of the figures were almost transparent, most likely illusions, shielding the real snakes from view.  As the pirate and Maztican rolled back to their feet, one of the sorcerers flung out his hand and a blast of cold, black energy struck Octurus, chilling him to his marrow as his skin felt like it was on fire.

Gregor didn’t enjoy killing, but he didn’t hesitate to do so if it served his Lord’s purposes.  So it was with grim determination that he prepared to dispatch the two men before him, when suddenly he saw three more yuan-ti, wreathed in illusory images like their companions above, step into the room from the basement stairs.  Before the druid could do more than acknowledge their presence, all three hurled lightning at him, scorching his wooden hide and setting much of his foliage smoldering.  The blast left him momentarily dazed as his nerve endings sizzled with overloaded impulses.  He wouldn’t be able to reach them all before they could blast him again, and he knew that he’d not survive a second such assault.  Shifting back to his human form with a thought, he called on the power of Silvanus, conjuring a wave of livid green slime-like algae to wash over both the brigands and the yuan-ti.  Wherever the slime touched, it began to dissolve flesh and clothing.  The pair of thugs miraculously managed to leap aside as the wave passed, and one of the yuan-ti quickly ducked back behind the basement door.  His brethren, however, howled and hissed in agony as their skin began to putrefy and blood oozed like pus.

Tower Cleaver surged into the second floor room, crossing the distance between himself and the yuan-ti in two large strides.  He didn’t aim his swings, but merely let the power behind them make up for his inability to pick out his real targets.  With a sickening gurgle, one of the sorcerers went down in an arterial spray of blood and gore as the illusions surrounding him winked out of existence.  The second snake-man leaped back as three of his own images were disintegrated by the minotaur’s devastating blows.  Harliss and Octurus were on him in a flash, their combined strikes dispelling the remaining illusions.

Daelric had to admire the druid’s skill.  Single-handedly, he had held his five assailants at bay and had gone a long way towards dispatching almost half of them.  The priest felt it was time for him to step up and show that Shaundekal’s own abilities were not to be trifled with.  Winking back into view as his prayer was cast, he conjured a familiar wall of whirling blades of force down the length of the room, slashing one of the remaining thugs to ribbons.  
“Nicely done,” Mandi said from behind him.  “But it needs a bit of finesse.”  
The sorceress began her own incantation, creating a second wall behind the blade barrier, this one also made of force, but as solid as stone, effectively separating the two slime-covered yuan-ti from their unharmed comrade, where he could only watch as his brothers were cut to bits even as their bodies were consumed by the slime.

Octurus dashed leaped past Tower Cleaver towards the second yuan-ti, his scimitar opening a long gash up the sorcerer’s side which bled profusely.  The yuan-ti hissed, backing towards the stairwell as he hurled a second blast of negative energy at the Maztican, striking him directly over his heart.  Octurus crumpled, clutching his chest in agony as he felt his pulse become weak and thready.  With a roar, Tower Cleaver lunged at the sorcerer, caving in his skull with one huge fist.  
“Are ye ok, boyo?”  Harliss asked, kneeling next to the demon hunter.
“No…” Octurus whispered, “but I’ll live.”
“Good,” the pirate grinned, “because from the sound o’things below, we still got business needs dealing with.”

The last brigand standing rushed towards Daelric, his sword raised for a killing blow.  The frail priest instinctively cringed, but as he raised his arm to ward off the attack, he prayed to Shaundekal for protection.  His hand flared with black light and when it touched the thug’s chest, the man’s heart simply stopped and he tumbled backwards into the pooling slime.
“Thank you,” Daelric breathed, looking up at the ceiling.  “I owe you one.”

The only surviving yuan-ti glared balefully through the force wall at Mandi.  With a wave of his hand he vanished and Mandi smiled evilly.  The fool had teleported, and these days the elven sorceress never left home without putting in place a ward against such tactics.  Without his even knowing what was happening, the yuan-ti was shunted into the Astral plane for several seconds, long enough for Mandi to discern where he would reappear.  Shouldering past her companions, she ran up the stairs to the second floor.  When she reached the spot where she knew her foe would come, she promptly disintegrated the floor in that area.  Moments later, the sorcerer appeared, and then disappeared again through the hole, landing flat on his back in a puddle of slime below.  
“Strong work, lass!”  Harliss shouted gleefully as she zipped past Mandi and leaped into the hole.  She landed in a crouch beside the writhing snake man, blades gripped in both hands.  The yuan-ti raised his hands, ebony flames coalescing around them.  A sizzling blast hissed over Harliss’s shoulder in that instant and struck the sorcerer, turning his body to purest glass.  With a snarl, Harliss raised her blades and shattered the statue into glittering fragments.
______________________________________________________________

The minting house turned out to be just that…a counterfeiting operation.  Coin molds as well as a furnace were discovered in the basement, along with a hidden shrine devoted to Demogorgon.  It seemed that the yuan-ti cult that Tyralandi claimed to have destroyed had survived after all.  Also among the corpses of the Seventh Coil sorcerers was a crude map showing a cove several miles northwest of Scuttlecove with the symbol of the Kraken Society.  Harliss’s hunch was right.  The yuan-ti were indeed allied with the Kraken’s.  If Lavinia Vanderboren and her undead brother were to be found, the headquarters of the Kraken Society would be the place.

The Minting House held one last surprise discovery for the Legionnaires…an unconscious, bloodied, and obviously diseased Zan Oldavin, found bound in a dank cellar room.  Once Daelric had healed the rogue, he was as shocked and grateful as his others team mates, relieved that they were all safe…except for Tolin.  The ranger’s fate and whereabouts were still unknown.  The Legion returned to Red Foam and the three Jade Ravens were reunited.  One task remained:  to find the Kraken Society and beard the deadly, cutthroat pirates in their own, presumably well-defended lair…


----------



## Hammerhead

Any chance we can see Brother Gregor's character sheet? 

He seems strangely...principled. Ugh.


----------



## WarEagleMage

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Any chance we can see Brother Gregor's character sheet?
> 
> He seems strangely...principled. Ugh.




I'll try and get him up sometime this week.  Nothing terribly exotic, just a lvl 14 druid with the Shapechanger variant from PHB2.  It takes some of the versatility of wild shape away, but makes gameplay much easier.  As for his demeanor: he is an agent of a higher power, and his principles serve the Balance.  At the moment, the threat of the Savage Tide has him aligned with the Legion.


----------



## Aracase

carborundum said:
			
		

> Any chance any of you guys feel like posting your characters again?



*Tower Cleaver; Minotaur Barbarian 2/Warhulk 5:* ECL 15; Size L; HD 6d8+30 + 7d12+35; hp 191; Init +1; Spd 40 ft (base 30 ft); AC 27, touch 14, FF 26; BAB +8/+3; Grapple +27; Atk: +23/+18 melee (+17 melee (1d8 + 13, gore), +24/+19 melee (3d6 + 24/crit x3, Sun  Axe), +26/+21 melee (3d6 + 26/crit x3, Sun  Axe  vs Evil); SA Powerful charge 4d6+6; SQ Darkvision 60 ft., natural cunning, scent; AL N; SV Fort +21, Ref +12, Will +13; Str 41, Dex 12, Con 24, Int 6, Wis 10, Cha 6.
*Languages spoken:* Common, Giant
*Skills and Feats:* Climb +12, Intimidate +0, Listen +7, Speak Language +2, Spot +8, Survival +1, Swim +4; Armor Proficiency (Light), Armor Proficiency (Medium), Cleave, Great Cleave, Iron Will, Martial Weapon Proficiency, Power Attack, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency.
*Special Abilities:* Ability Boost, Darkvision, Fast Movement, Great Swing, Illiteracy, Mighty rock throwing, Mighty swing, Rage, Scent, Uncanny Dodge.
*Possessions:* 4475 pp, 600 gp, Cloak of protection +3, Sun axe, Large greataxe +1 (flaming), Skin of ectoplasmic armor, Backpack, 4 Potion of cure moderate wounds, Potion of haste, Potion of invisibility, 7 Potion of cure serious wounds, 5 Potion of fly, 4 Potion of barkskin +3, Potion of water breathing, 4 Potion of protection from evil, Vest of resistance +5, Ioun stone (dusty rose), Ring of freedom of movement, Belt of giant strength +4, Bracers of health +4 con; +2 dex.

I think this is right, I may be off on 1 or 2 skill points.
Yes, TC does have a 41 strength, that's a light load of 4912 lbs....


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## carborundum

Just had to go look up Warhulk - jumpin' jehosophat!

Mighty Strike is awesome indeed - TC can attack three adjacent enemies simultaneously and even use multiple attacks too - wowee!

Totally awesome character - thanks for posting him


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## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Just had to go look up Warhulk - jumpin' jehosophat!
> 
> Mighty Strike is awesome indeed - TC can attack three adjacent enemies simultaneously and even use multiple attacks too - wowee!
> 
> Totally awesome character - thanks for posting him




And he does this with annoying regularity....

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER
____________________

The battle royal with the Kraken Society begins, and it's no holds barred when the Legion roars in and finds the whole friggin' place on full alert!  Our heroes handle the front-line grunts with relative ease except for two notable instances.

Our favorite Maztican whipping boy gets gruesomely maimed as he is targeted repeatedly by bad guys, and one member of the company disappears...forever!!!!


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## Aholibamah

I loved "Nice tune, but can you dance to it?" I love Mandi. I haven't been reading this for a while. I'm very interested to see your depiction of the later version of Porphyry House. 

And btw...your party is still damned tough, but so much for discretion. Mind you I shouldn't talk either.


----------



## Abciximab

Ah, Lugnut and Bombur, they've come a long way from being stoned near the legendary ruins of Tamoachan. Perhaps they were better off there   .


----------



## carborundum

I wonder where Fang XIII is


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## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> I wonder where Fang XIII is




Probably hunting happily in the Astral Plane, while Fang XIV is calmly waiting in the wings...


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## primemover003

JD, even though I've only gotten through three pages of this Storyhour I have to say it's on the far side of awesome!  I'm currently gearing up to run STAP from Tides of Dread onward...  but with a twist.  My campaign is fully Planar and my PC's are my groups long lost 2nd ed planescape fiendslayers which I though made a great fit.

I saw Tower Cleaver's stats up there and don't feel so worried about my party's resident Minotaur "Horny" (aka Mephisto Blutkrieger), though I was wondering if you had to make any serious tweaks to the adventures as written (moreso than any DM needs to tailor a pre-made adventure).  TC's Str of 41 put's Horny's 27 to shame, but my bull's got an AC of 34 at 10th level!  Definitely tough for even Vanthus to hit and well out of the pirates ability to hit.  In fact most of my players will likely have AC's in the mid 20's.  

Can't wait for more!


----------



## JollyDoc

primemover003 said:
			
		

> JD, even though I've only gotten through three pages of this Storyhour I have to say it's on the far side of awesome!  I'm currently gearing up to run STAP from Tides of Dread onward...  but with a twist.  My campaign is fully Planar and my PC's are my groups long lost 2nd ed planescape fiendslayers which I though made a great fit.
> 
> I saw Tower Cleaver's stats up there and don't feel so worried about my party's resident Minotaur "Horny" (aka Mephisto Blutkrieger), though I was wondering if you had to make any serious tweaks to the adventures as written (moreso than any DM needs to tailor a pre-made adventure).  TC's Str of 41 put's Horny's 27 to shame, but my bull's got an AC of 34 at 10th level!  Definitely tough for even Vanthus to hit and well out of the pirates ability to hit.  In fact most of my players will likely have AC's in the mid 20's.
> 
> Can't wait for more!





Thanks for reading and posting Prime!  I appreciate your comments and I'm glad that we might be able to give you few ideas.  The fully planar STAP actually sounds pretty cool.  

I vowed after Age of Worms to never alter an AP again to make it tougher, as last time I did that, Kyuss wiped the floor with the PC's.  So, I've left everything as/is in STAP, and so far, I think it's challenged the group pretty well, considering only one of the original PC's that started the AP is still around.  The group is tough, but they need to be.  I don't pull too many punches with the NPC's, but I haven't increased EL's or swapped abilities/spells or anything else.  Ultimately, my goal is for my players to win, but to have a helluva time doing it and really feel like they earned it in the end.


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## primemover003

From what I've read here and over at Paizo you and I seem to run a similar style of game, especially in the magic item department.  So far about half my guys have their characters 90% done, but as usual I'm still wrangling someone to play a Divine Caster...  the most powerful classes in 3.5 and no one likes playing them.  Go figure.


----------



## wolff96

primemover003 said:
			
		

> So far about half my guys have their characters 90% done, but as usual I'm still wrangling someone to play a Divine Caster...  the most powerful classes in 3.5 and no one likes playing them.  Go figure.




We've got the opposite problem.  I'm in a group where EVERYONE wanted to be the cleric.

So we diversified and made a whole party of clerics (though to be fair, the cleric of Olidhammara is multi-classed with rogue).  It works amazingly well, though undead encounters are pretty much crossed off the list for our long-suffering DM.  One fighter cleric (St. Cuthbert), one archer cleric (me, Corellon Larethan), one cleric-cleric (Pelor, with a bunch of healing feats from PHBII and Comp. Divine), the multi-classed rogue/cleric, and an "arcane" cleric (Boccob).

My favorite thing is the Pelorian clerics feat that lets him burn a turning use to make all healing maximized until the end of his next turn.  With five healers in the party, that's an AMAZING amount of healing power.


----------



## Aracase

primemover003 said:
			
		

> .....play a Divine Caster...  the most powerful classes in 3.5.....



*wanders into the tread*

Hmmm, I wonder if Daleric is around.  Oh, I forgot invisible characters like to DELAY.

In all seriousness, a good part of TC's/the team's power comes from our Divine Caster.  He is a great buffer and healer.  Instead of doing damage directly, it's total team support so that we do the damage for him.


----------



## JollyDoc

Aracase said:
			
		

> *wanders into the tread*
> 
> Hmmm, I wonder if Daleric is around.  Oh, I forgot invisible characters like to DELAY.
> 
> In all seriousness, a good part of TC's/the team's power comes from our Divine Caster.  He is a great buffer and healer.  Instead of doing damage directly, it's total team support so that we do the damage for him.





But nevertheless...he will be mine....oh yes!...he will be mine...


----------



## JollyDoc

IN THE COILS OF THE KRAKEN

It was a six hour overland journey through hot, humid, insect-infested jungle from Scuttlecove to the coordinates on the map indicating the main stronghold of the Kraken Society.  So it was with bitter disappointment that the little band looked down from a rise onto a barren salt marsh that opened into a rocky cove.  There was no sign of habitation whatsoever.  The gathering consisted of the Legionnaires plus Harliss.  The three Jade Ravens had been sent back to the Sea Wyvern, with instructions to bring the ship to the cove shown on the map and anchor her several miles offshore.  Harliss, predictably, opted to accompany the assault team, eager to have her revenge on her former employers.

“If I may,” Gregor said, “I can scout the area from the air.  My eyes are sharp and I might see something we are missing from this vantage point.”
Mandi shrugged and nodded.  The druid raised his arms and his features flowed and shifted until a great bird stood in his place.  Spreading his wings, he took to the air.  Up and up he went, riding the thermals until he was a hundred or more feet above the marsh.  His gaze was indeed acute, augmented as it was by Daelric’s prayer of seeing, but even so, Gregor saw nothing that indicated habitation of any sort.  Disappointed, he returned to the group, morphing back into human form as he landed.
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head.
“Perhaps a different tactic then,” Mandi replied, as she began speaking the words of an incantation.  Slowly, a grey, shimmering orb appeared in mid-air before her.
“Vanthus Vanderboren,” she intoned, “show me Vanthus Vanderboren.”
The orb remained dark.
“Either he is no longer on this Plane or, more likely, there are wards about him which prevent divination.  Seems like we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way then.”

Drawing a wand from the sleeve her robe, Mandi instructed all the members of the company to take flight, each one calling upon their own magic or imbibing an elixir to do so.  She herself shifted her form to that of a small, ice mephit and took wing.  Together, the companions headed out across the marsh, though at a lower altitude than Gregor had flown.  It was Mandi’s plan to use her wand, which was capable of locating concealed and hidden portals, to seek out a secret entrance to the lair of the Krakens.  No sooner had the group descended into the marsh, however, than the air around them began to waver, like a mirage in the desert.  In a matter of moments, the landscape changed completely, revealing a fortress which had been concealed by a powerful magical screen that was imperceptible until its border was crossed.  The stronghold of the Kraken Society matched perfectly the pirates’ vile nature, a sodden mass of boats and piers squatting over a filthy, reeking marsh.  What at first looked like a layer of mist over the water was in fact a cloud of seething gnats, mosquitoes and flies that choked the air.  The wooden piers dipped perilously in places and the boats moored to them were often lashed together.  Totems and effigies hung everywhere…carved whalebones depicting evil, twisted things that surely the gods would never have let draw breath, moldy corn dolls representing deformed men, and bundles of feathers and poorly preserved animal carcasses and bones.  Gibbets hung from masts by thick hairy ropes, and these held emaciated figures that moved fitfully.  Several wooden shacks perched on thick stilts around the maze of piers and ships, and a two-story stone tower rose at the center on a rocky islet, but the most impressive sight stood at the eastern edge of the complex.
There, a towering mass rose from the swamp, dragging itself from the choked waters in dizzy mockery of healthy architecture, based around a pair of gigantic trees.  A schizophrenic ships’ graveyard, the melded corpses of half a dozen boats and caravels had been lashed and bolted together at differing heights among the trees, balanced precariously above the waters below.  Ropes, ladders, and narrow walkways tangled through the structure, which towered to a height of a hundred feet.  It looked almost as if some immense spider that spun ropes and rusted chain as webs had claimed the trees as its lair, and the six ships were its desiccated and partially eaten victims.  The entire structure creaked and moaned as if it were ready to collapse yet somehow could not.

Harliss and the Legionnaires were shocked by the sudden appearance of the stronghold, but for the occupants of the lair, it seemed they were expecting company.  Pirates swarmed over the decks of the ships caught in the trees, most readying crossbows while several manned a trio of ballistae higher up the chain.  On the deck of one of the lower ships crouched an elephantine spider, its quartet of eyes glowing brightly in the dim light.  High in the rigging of the ships, three tattooed and pierced harpies crouched…Sisters of Lamentation.  Harliss’s face blanched.  Closer to hand, a half-dozen or so pirates atop the tower in the center of the cove also began aiming their bows, while at ground level, another eight came from two of the wooden shacks.  From another building, near the entrance to the cove, stepped a frog-like humanoid clothed in a ragged cloak.  When it looked up and saw the flying invaders, it grinned a shark-like grin and flung one hand towards them, loosing a small, fiery orb which streaked into their midst and detonated, sending their formation scattering.  

“Down, down!”  Mandi cried.  “We’re too exposed up here!”
Heeding her own advice, she transformed herself into a savage nabassu demon and began descending towards the nearest building just as a hail of crossbow and ballista bolts filled the air.  Tower Cleaver grunted as a stray missile sank deep into his flank, while Gregor’s avian form shrieked when another ripped through one of his wings.  Octurus felt burning agony shoot up his leg as a lucky shot tore cleanly through his Achilles tendon, sending him spiraling towards the ground.  In rapid succession, he, Harliss, and Gregor followed Mandi’s lead and landed behind the relative cover of one of the shacks.  Gregor was in motion as soon as his feet touched the ground, shifting back to human form as he rounded a corner of the structure.  From there, he had a good view of the frog-thing.
“So you like to play with fire, eh?” he hissed, pain from his wounded arm fueling his anger.  Raising his hand to the sky, he called Silvanus’s name and white light surrounded him.  Forty feet above the frog creature, a huge ball of ice and fire appeared, hurtling through the air.  The miniature comet struck with the force of a thunderclap, burying the creature in rubble and debris.

“Impressive!”  Mandi shouted, but abruptly her vision was obstructed by three-hundred pounds of fur, teeth and claws.  From the roof of the building leaped five bar-lgura.  They landed in ready crouches, surrounding Mandi, Octurus and Harliss.  Before the pirate captain could react, one of the demons seized her by the arm and instantly vanished with her.  Mandi remembered Sepoto and Marius telling her about the ones they had met in the jungle, and how they had abducted their gnome guide.  
“Ware their touch!” she shouted to Octurus.  The Maztican drew his scimitars and waited for the assault, but at that moment, Sepoto and Tower Cleaver came hurtling out of the sky, hammering two of the demons as they landed.  With the bar-lgura occupied, the demon hunter saw his chance.  Darting past the combatants he sprinted towards the shack where Gregor’s comet had struck, determined to make sure that the creature there was truly dead.  Mandi saw his intent too late.
“Octurus, no!” she cried.  “It’s a death slaad!”  The Maztican did not hear her warning over the din of battle, however.  When he reached the debris, he saw the thing raise itself from the rocks and turn its baleful gaze upon him.  Snarling, the warrior leaped, burying his blade to the hilt in the monster’s chest.  The slaad, one Velzigarus by name, looked down at the steel protruding from his flesh and chuckled.  Quick as a cobra, he seized Octurus’s face in one scaled claw, uttering dark magic in his guttural native tongue.  Octurus saw a brilliant flash of light, and then total and complete darkness.  He had been struck blind.

Mandi cursed at the tribesman’s foolishness.  She had only moments to act before the slaad cut him down.  Focusing her concentration on him, she cast her spell, instantly transporting herself to his position while simultaneously transferring him to where she’d been.  Velzigarus smiled when he saw her.
“Well hello, little shapeshifter,” he said.  “I don’t suppose you’re a holy man, are you?  No?  No matter.  Though it may not count towards my eventual freedom, your death will still be satisfying nonetheless.  Oh, and it looks like we’ll be having company for your untimely demise.”
He gestured, and when Mandi looked, she saw that one of the pirates had jumped from the top of the watch tower.  As he plummeted towards the water, however, a pair of bat-like wings unfurled from his back, and as he drew closer, she saw horns jutting from his head, and a scorpion-like tail arching over him.  A Lemorian…

The bar-lgura that had taken Harliss suddenly reappeared right next to Gregor.  It turned towards him, claws raised, but a whip-crack sounded from behind the demon as Sepoto’s chain wrapped around its ankles, pulling its feet from under it when the goliath jerked.  The demon rolled to its back and jack-knifed upright with blinding speed, but it was not faster than the crusader.  Again he struck, this time coiling his chain around the demonic ape’s neck and snapping it with another pull.  Sepoto gathered his weapon back to his hand with a flick of his wrist and rushed towards another demon, smashing his chain-wrapped fist into its face, imploding its skull with the force of his blow.  Meanwhile, another of the bar-lgura managed to position itself right behind Tower Cleaver.  Grabbing the minotaur’s wrist, it laughed.
“Ready to go for a ride, big fella?”  
Tower Cleaver looked down at the demon with narrowed eyes, then casually tossed his head, impaling one of his horns under the bar-lgura’s chin and into its brain.  The barbarian then, without even looking, swung his axe blindly behind him, cutting in two the demon he had heard approaching from his flank.  The last bar-lgura gulped, and promptly vanished.

While Mandi was momentarily distracted by the approach of the demonic pirate, Velzigarus back-handed her across the face, leaving deep scores where his claws raked her flesh.  Slowly, Mandi turned towards him, death in her eyes.
“I would not do such things if I were you,” she whispered.  Then, gathering her magic to her, she hurled it at the slaad like a spear.  Velzigarus’s eyes went wide as he clutched his chest.
“Not like this…” he gurgled as he collapsed.
“Perhaps that will help you attain your ‘freedom,’” the sorceress said coldly.  

__________________________________________________________________
INTERLUDE

Harliss looked around her as the bar-lgura released her and promptly vanished, stranding her in a nightmarish landscape.  It seemed she’d been left in some sort of immense canyon, so deep that she could not see the sky above her.  All about her, fissures belched steam and smoke into the sky, further obstructing the light.  There was a cave in cliff wall behind her, and as she turned towards it, she heard a faint chittering sound and saw several pebbles tumble down the rock.  Suddenly, a huge form heaved itself out of the darkness.  It looked like some sort of horrific centipede or caterpillar, but from its carapace extruded thousands of whip-like filaments, filling the air around it with hissing death.  The thing then opened its huge maw and vomited up a vile mass of bile and what seemed to be the remains of its last meal…several humanoid corpses.  But then something truly terrifying happened.  The corpses began to move, rising to their feet and lurching towards her.  Harliss began to scream as she saw the green worms slither from their empty eye sockets and their toungeless mouths…
_________________________________________________________

Mandi grabbed her head as Harliss’s final shrieks filled her mind before being cut abruptly short.  The sorceress had almost forgotten about the telepathic bond she had formed among her comrades.  The others each paused in their individual battles as they too heard the death throes of the pirate captain.  Mandi shook her head to clear it, silently thanking whatever powers-that-be that it had been Harliss instead of her.

“Daelric!  Can you hear me?”  Octurus shouted, still sightless and disoriented.  “I cannot see!”
Still flying above, unseen thanks to his ring, Daelric began to mutter several very un-priestly curses.
“Everyone suddenly wants you around when their own hides are at risk,” he grumbled.  Still, he descended, landing behind the stricken Maztican.
“Hold still,” he said.  “I don’t have time to cure you, but this should help.”
He murmured a prayer, and Octurus suddenly found that, though he could still not see, he could perceive what was going on around him as black and white images, as sounds reverberated back to him as sight, almost like that of a bat.
“There, now you’re on your own,” Daelric said, slapping him on the shoulder as he took to the relative safety of the sky once more.

Longshanks Le’shiv was spoiling for a fight, and had been ever since his ship was stolen by mutineers.  After days confined to the base, he was getting twitchy and the little invasion party was just the sort of diversion he needed.  As he winged his way towards the demonic shapeshifter, he shifted his rapier and dagger in his hands, anticipating how it would feel when he drove them both home through the sorcerer’s gut.  Just as he drew within striking distance, however, the accursed wizard cast some sort of spell at him, and he felt his equilibrium suddenly leave him.  Clumsily, he careened towards the building, barely landing on his feet as the rubble strewn ground shifted beneath him.  His head was still reeling, and he couldn’t seem to focus his eyes.  The sorcerer moved towards him, claws flexing.  At that moment, four fleet sailors rounded the far corner of the building.  When they saw Longshanks’ situation, they raised their cutlasses and ran howling towards his opponent.

Mandi was certain she could handle the pirate thugs, as well as the Lemorian, especially since she’d struck the latter with a spell of clumsiness.  Still, she wasn’t totally unrelieved when Tower Cleaver suddenly landed at her back.
“Gentlemen,” she smiled.  “I’d like to introduce you to a little friend of mine.  Cleaver, if you would be so kind as to deal with this rabble.”
The pirates hesitated for a moment when they saw the tower of muscle, horns and steel standing before them.  When the minotaur crouched and roared at them, foam flying from his slavering mouth, they positively cringed.  Before they could decide whether to fight or flee, however, Tower Cleaver was upon them.  His axe swung like a pendulum of death, striking the front two pirates as well as Captain Le’shiv.  All three went down in a bloody heap, and the two remaining brigands began to back away in earnest.  The debris around them hindered their retreat, though, and Cleaver pressed his attack.  Twice more his axe swung, and each time it relieved one of the pirates of his head.  Dripping and growling, he turned back towards Mandi as if asking, ‘what next?’
Mandi grinned at her companion, about to congratulate him on his thoroughness, when something caught her eye.  Flying across the cove and towards the roof of the building behind which the rest of the Legionnaires sheltered were four yuan-ti.  They were invisible, and thus had not been noticed by the others, but Mandi’s ability to see the unseen made them stand out quite clearly.
‘Sepoto,’ she called through the telepathic link, ‘you’re about to have company.’
‘I see them,’ the goliath answered, but Mandi saw that he was looking towards another quartet of pirates that had come round the far side of the building.
‘No!  Look to the roof!’

A column of flames erupted atop the newly arrived pirates, courtesy of Gregor.  
“Hold them here,” Sepoto shouted to the druid.  “We’ve got bigger problems!”
Bending his knees, the crusader leaped into the air and landed on the roof.  There he saw not the four yuan-ti half-bloods Mandi had described, but  a pair of pure-bloods stood there.  Before the crusader could do more than register their presence, the sorcerers sent black fire lancing towards him.  The wind was knocked out of Sepoto’s lungs as if Tower Cleaver had struck him in the chest.  He felt his life force ebbing out of him as the flames drank hungrily.  Blessedly, the fire disappeared as suddenly as it had come and he felt a moment’s relief at the simple absence of pain, but he was weak, and the yuan-ti prepared to cast again.

At that moment, Octurus lighted atop the roof, landing awkwardly on his wounded ankle.  Fortunately, he arrived within striking distance of one of the sorcerers, and as it turned towards him, hands wreathed in ebony, the Maztican slashed wide with his scimitar, opening the yuan-ti’s abdomen.  He limped forward, ready to follow up his assault, but in the blink of an eye, he found himself surrounded.  The four half-bloods appeared out of nowhere, wickedly curved daggers flashing in their hands.

Back on the ground, the quartet of singed pirates also had Gregor pinned down.  One darted forward, chopping with his cutlass down upon the druid’s shoulder.  Gregor felt his left arm go numb from the blow.  Stumbling away, he called down the fire of Silvanus again, but this time two of the thugs dove nimbly aside, leaving their cohorts to roast alive.  Gregor spun towards the remaining two, his eyes glowing with a feral light, his pupils constricting to feline slits.  Before their eyes, the pirates watched the druid shift and grow until he resembled something akin to a bipedal tiger.  The nearest one tried to retreat, but Gregor pounced on him, ripping and shredding with his claws until the pirate was an unrecognizable pulp.  The last brigand shrieked in a very un-pirate-like way.  His scream trailed off into a wet gurgle as the druid predator tore out his throat.

While the yuan-tis’ attention was focused on Octurus, Sepoto charged forward, his chain slashing into the nearest pureblood, forcing it towards the edge of the roof.  At the same time, Octurus became a blur of motion, cutting and pivoting despite his injury.  The nearest assassin hissed as the warrior’s blade slashed through its own Achilles, dropping it to one knee.  Suddenly, the roof top erupted in flames and Daelric appeared hovering in the air above.  
“Score one for the Traveler!” he cried, pumping his fist as he saw the wounded half-blood’s scorched body.  His jubilation was cut short, however, as a bolt of lightning crackled between all five of the remaining snake-men, leaving one of the pure-bloods dead and smoldering. 
“Score one for Atheism,” Mandi sneered as she rose into view.
Octurus had paused in his attack as magic swept the roof.  It proved a costly mistake.  One of the assassins stepped inside his defenses and brought its dagger arm over his blades.  With a precise jab, the point of the dirk pierced the Maztican’s left eye, causing him to cry out in agony.  As he clasped his hands to his bleeding socket, another half-blood struck from behind, this time jabbing his blade deep into Octurus’s ear.  The Maztican sank into numbing darkness.  As their prey fell to their blades, the three warriors looked above them to the weaponless priest who had stopped gloating altogether.

Sepoto saw Octurus fall, and when the half-bloods leaped into the air towards Daelric, he swept out with his chain, slashing one across the back.  He then pivoted on his heel and struck at the remaining sorcerer, snapping its spine with the force of his blow.  Before he could go to Daelric’s aid, however, the snarling form of Tower Cleaver came barreling over the edge of the roof.  While it could never be said that the barbarian was poetry in motion, what he lacked in finesse he more than made up for in raw, brutal power.  One after the other, the assassins fell before him.  Daelric, meanwhile, cowered with his arms crossed protectively over his head.  He only peeked out when he heard the last body hit the ground.
“That was close,” he said, then yelped as a volley of crossbow bolts from the guard tower split the air around him, reminding him that he was still very exposed.  Rapidly, he descended to the roof to offer what aid he could to Octurus.

For a moment, the battlefield was quiet.  Several pirates still milled about atop the watchtower, but they only fired the occasional, token shots, which were several yards out of range.  No, what truly troubled Mandi more were the occupants of the ships in the tree.  She could see them just standing there, watching and waiting…but for what?


----------



## Bryon_Soulweaver

Maybe something is in the water. I hope something is in the water, waiting to just reach up and smother someone with its . . . something.


----------



## primemover003

*Planar STAP*



			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Thanks for reading and posting Prime!  I appreciate your comments and I'm glad that we might be able to give you few ideas.  The fully planar STAP actually sounds pretty cool.
> 
> I vowed after Age of Worms to never alter an AP again to make it tougher, as last time I did that, Kyuss wiped the floor with the PC's.  So, I've left everything as/is in STAP, and so far, I think it's challenged the group pretty well, considering only one of the original PC's that started the AP is still around.  The group is tough, but they need to be.  I don't pull too many punches with the NPC's, but I haven't increased EL's or swapped abilities/spells or anything else.  Ultimately, my goal is for my players to win, but to have a helluva time doing it and really feel like they earned it in the end.



Well that being said obviously you add creatures because you have 6 players (I'll have 8).  So for example in the Encoutner "Kill the Vrocks" you added a 4th to the mix to run interference for it's dancing brethren...  did you try to Summon more Vrock as the adventure suggested or did you just set it up that way?  I've been looking at doing similar to what you did, but adding in an advanced 17HD Vrock Bbn 1 to take up half the parties time (at least).  Would it be better maybe just to have the vrocks successfully summon 3 more of their ilk (normal versions)?

Here's my tentative party: (edited 11/21?07)
[sblock]
Lucien Bradley - pl/male Aasimar Ftr 2/Pal 8, LG (Believers of the Source)
Mephisto "Horny" Blutkreiger -  pr/male Minotaur Ftr 2, CG
Brother Falyte - pl/male Aasimar Clr ?/Divine Disciple ? of Tymora, CG (Society of Sensation)
Deek - pr/male Goliath Bbn 9, CG (Brotherhood of Glory)
Renqual the Wild - pl/male Aasimiar Wiz 5/Wild Mage 5, CN (Xaositect)
Brautmer - pr/male Dwarf Bbn 5/Frenzied Berserker 5, CN (Brotherhood of Glory)
Arros - pl/male Human Clr 5/Demonwrecker 5 of St. Cuthbert, LN (Harmonium)
Duklar - pl/male Tiefling Scout 10, CN (Free League)

*I run Aasimar, Genasi, and Tieflings at ECL 0.  Minot energy resists, odd stats, and immunity to a whopping 7 spells, 2 of which are buff/utility, do not an LA make.[/sblock]


----------



## JollyDoc

primemover003 said:
			
		

> Well that being said obviously you add creatures because you have 6 players (I'll have 8).  So for example in the Encoutner "Kill the Vrocks" you added a 4th to the mix to run interference for it's dancing brethren...  did you try to Summon more Vrock as the adventure suggested or did you just set it up that way?  I've been looking at doing similar to what you did, but adding in an advanced 17HD Vrock Bbn 1 to take up half the parties time (at least).  Would it be better maybe just to have the vrocks successfully summon 3 more of their ilk (normal versions)?





Well, if you'll reread that post (Tides of Dread Part 2), you'll see that there were initially three vrocks and then a fourth "appeared out of thin air."  So, I didn't add any vrocks to the encounter, but one of them summoned in a fourth vrock.  I've found that with six PC's, I can keep the number of creatures as written.  If I were running 8, I might have to adjust.  All three of the vrocks tried to summon, but only one was successful.  I don't know...a 17 HD vrock with a level of barbarian seems an awful lot to throw at a 9th level party on top of everything else they'll be facing.  I might just have the three vrocks successfully summon, though that could be rough too, because then you've potentially got two dances of ruin to contend with.  

I like your part make-up.  Very eclectic.


----------



## primemover003

Well they'll actually start at 10th...  I'm cutting HTBM and ToD together to make it more planarcentric.  IMC Farshore is a Signer colony on the Beastlands established to study the Forbidden Plateau.  It sits on an Island in the middle of the River Oceanus allowing it to move though Krigala, Brux, and Karasuthra (but it'll seem like a day/night cycle).  This lets me move various portions of ToD around the Beastlands.

Lavinia is the daughter of Factol Darius of the Sign of One, Vanthus is a Doomsguard captain helping the Tanar'ri build Shipd of Chaos, The Olmans become Verdant Guild cells, the Phanatons become Ratatosk, the tar pits are actually the sap of a branch of Yggdrasil, Xotzilaha becomes the Bat Lord, Thanaclan actually becomes the ruined godly domain of the dead Olman gods whose mortal worshippers were destroyed by the Savage Tide (though Quetzlcoutl still resides on Mt. Celestia)...


----------



## JollyDoc

primemover003 said:
			
		

> Well they'll actually start at 10th...  I'm cutting HTBM and ToD together to make it more planarcentric.  IMC Farshore is a Signer colony on the Beastlands established to study the Forbidden Plateau.  It sits on an Island in the middle of the River Oceanus allowing it to move though Krigala, Brux, and Karasuthra (but it'll seem like a day/night cycle).  This lets me move various portions of ToD around the Beastlands.
> 
> Lavinia is the daughter of Factol Darius of the Sign of One, Vanthus is a Doomsguard captain helping the Tanar'ri build Shipd of Chaos, The Olmans become Verdant Guild cells, the Phanatons become Ratatosk, the tar pits are actually the sap of a branch of Yggdrasil, Xotzilaha becomes the Bat Lord, Thanaclan actually becomes the ruined godly domain of the dead Olman gods whose mortal worshippers were destroyed by the Savage Tide (though Quetzlcoutl still resides on Mt. Celestia)...




That sounds like a really cool set-up.  You'll have a fantastic time once you move on to Into the Maw, Wells of Darkness and Enemy of My Enemy.  Sounds like they'll be right up your alley.


----------



## primemover003

One problem though...  having not played through the initial adventures in the AP, when it comes to Vanthus' fight with the PC's I was thinking of using the Shadow Pearl early and letting them witness first hand the threat they pose.  Obviously the connection to Vanthus and Lavinia are the hooks to get the PC's to play on towards Serpents of Scuttlecove and Into the Maw...  but they don't know about the Pearls or Savage Tides.  I'm still scratching my head on some aspects of the path I need to redirect.


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER
_____________________

The battle with the Kraken Society rages on...and on...and on...

The Legion takes on the Wreck, starting at the top and working their way down.  

Tower Cleaver becomes the first Legionnaire to kill a god!! And he lets everyone know about it.

Octurus finally gets his moment to shine, as he meets that special type of creature he's been waiting for...a honest-to-God Evil Outsider!!!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Tower Cleaver becomes the first Legionnaire to kill a god!! And he lets everyone know about it.



Coolest Sunday Teaser ever !!!


----------



## Aracase

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Tower Cleaver becomes the first Legionnaire to kill a god!! And he lets everyone know about it.



It was noted during the game that when Tower Cleaver criticals, it's an "experience".  Depending on which side of the axe determines which type of "experience" that's achieved.  On TC's end it's kinda like the "Disney Experience™"--wonderful childhood enjoyment with just a hit of ecstasy--and for the recipient of the critical it's a chance for him to "experience" the afterlife.


----------



## Supar

Which brings the question of what TC should name his axe. Table discussion at the time was "The maker" for its ability to usher you to your maker I think "God send" was also a possible, and i think my favorite was the Tower cleaver experience.


----------



## Zurai

I am SO stealing "Godsend" for the name of some massive critical weapon in the future.

BTW, I can empathize with the experience of critting for mega-damage. I was running my players through the one of the Pathfinder modules Tuesday night and got a crit on one of them for 129 damage with a large-sized scythe  The character had 48 hit points and was level 5. Just the bonus damage from strength and full-out power attack dropped her twice over.

It was glorious.

Best part was that the character didn't die, since I use a modified action point system that lets the party as a whole spend 3 APs to prevent a character death. Keeps combats tense without succumbing to the revolving door syndrome.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

While those are all good names for such a device, would this really be what the creature Tower Cleaver would name his axe. In my opinion, it would either be more simple like "Slicer" or more boasting like "Mighty horned axe of whirling doom". Another simple one might be "Tower's Cleaver".


----------



## carborundum

Or "My axe, MINE!!"


----------



## JollyDoc

Zurai said:
			
		

> I am SO stealing "Godsend" for the name of some massive critical weapon in the future.
> 
> BTW, I can empathize with the experience of critting for mega-damage. I was running my players through the one of the Pathfinder modules Tuesday night and got a crit on one of them for 129 damage with a large-sized scythe  The character had 48 hit points and was level 5. Just the bonus damage from strength and full-out power attack dropped her twice over.
> 
> It was glorious.
> 
> Best part was that the character didn't die, since I use a modified action point system that lets the party as a whole spend 3 APs to prevent a character death. Keeps combats tense without succumbing to the revolving door syndrome.




Not to make you feel inadequate, but I believe the end talley of TC's crit was somewhere in the neighborhood of 215 points....ouch.

I feel your love for the scythe, though.  When Joachim, Gfunk and I competed in the D&D Toughman at GenCon several years back, I played a half-ogre frenzied berserker with a large scythe (keen).  In the opening round I charged this unfortunate fellow and landed a crit, dealing roughly 200 or so points.  The guy's response?  "Well...that...that kills me!"
Yeah!  That was kinda the point!


----------



## Zurai

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Not to make you feel inadequate, but I believe the end talley of TC's crit was somewhere in the neighborhood of 215 points....ouch.




Oh no, not at all. I know that TC would top 129 without even breaking a sweat. That was my first scythe crit ever, though, and it was fun as hell.


----------



## JollyDoc

Update on the Update
__________________

We are going to be taking a three to four week hiatus from our Savage Tide Game, beginning next Sunday (December 2).  Tomorrow, I plan on the group concluding Serpents of Scuttlecove, and so I'm going to include that update with last weeks, but I'll be spacing out the posting a bit.  Hang in there!


----------



## primemover003

Gah!!!!  Well I'll be starting my Plane-STAP campaign Dec 1st so I'll update you on how my PC's dealt with a modified Turbo Olangru (original by Hierophantasm on Paizo).
[sblock]I basically dropped Power Attack and gave Olangru Fleet of Foot to make 90 degree turns during charges.  I playtested him tonight using some rough estimates of the Fighters in the groups AC's and Attack numbers and TO dropped 161 pts of damage in 2 rounds (+surprise) while only taking 93 in return!  And I was rolling well for the PC's landing a lucky crit with auto confirm thanks to a Sacred Scabbard on an AoO. 

Turbo Olangru CR 11 
Bar-lgura scout 5/fighter 1 
CE Medium outsider (chaotic, evil, extraplanar, tanar’ri) 
Initiative +7; Senses darkvision 60ft.; Listen +15, Spot +15 
Languages: Abyssal, Celestial, Common, Draconic; telepathy 100 ft. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AC 29, touch 18, flat-footed 29; Dodge, Mobility, skirmish (+1 AC), Imp. Skirmish (+2 AC), uncanny dodge 
HP: 127 (12 HD); DR 10/cold iron or good 
Immune: electricity, poison 
Resist: acid 10, cold 10, fire 10; SR 22 
Fort: +15, Ref +16, Will +8; evasion 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Speed: 60 ft., climb 20 ft.; Run, Fleet of Foot; chronocharm of the horizon walker 
Melee: 2 claws +18 (1d6+8) and bite +13 (1d6+4) 
Base Atk: +10; Grp +18 
Atk Options:  Spring Attack, pounce, skirmish (+2d6), Improved Skirmish 
Special Actions: abduction, summon tanar’ri 
Combat Gear: chronocharm of the horizon walker (1/day, move ½ land speed as a swift action) 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spell-Like Abilities (CL 12th) 
At will—darkness, cause fear (DC 14), dispel magic, greater teleport (DC 20), see invisibility, telekinesis (DC 18) 
2/day—disguise self (DC 14), invisibility, major image (DC 16) 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Abilities Str 26 Dex 23 Con 20 Int 13 Wis 12, Cha 16 
SQ battle fortitude (+1), fast movement, trackless step, trapfinding 
Feats: Dodge, Fleet of Foot, Improved Skirmish, Improved Toughness, Mobility, Run, Spring Attack 
Skills: Balance +22, Climb +31, Hide +24, Intimidate +18, Jump +40, Listen +15, Move Silently +20, Spot +15, Tumble +22 
Possessions: combat gear, bracers of armor +2, boots of striding and springing, cloak of resistance +1, ring of entropic deflection (if Olangru moves at least 10 feet, ranged attacks have a 20% miss chance against him; if he has an item that grants a bonus to speed [boots of striding and springing], the miss chance increases to 50%) , ring of protection +2 

Abduction (Su): A bar-lgura can use greater teleport to transport other creatures. It can bring up to one Large or two Medium or smaller creatures with it each time it teleports. It can teleport unwilling targets as well, although an unwilling victim can attempt a DC 20 Will save to resist being transported. The DC is Charisma-based. 

Battle Fortitude (Ex): At 2nd level, a scout gains a +1 competence bonus on Fortitude saves and initiative checks. A scout loses this ability when wearing medium or heavy armor or when carrying a medium or heavy load. 

Pounce (Ex): If a bar-lgura charges a foe, it can make a full attack. 

Skirmish (Ex): A 5th-level scout deals an extra 2d6 points of damage on all attacks and a +1 competence bonus to Armor Class during any round in which he moves at least 10 feet. The extra damage applies only to attacks taken during the scout’s turn, and only against living creatures that have a discernable anatomy. Undead, constructs, oozes, plants, incorporeal creatures, and creatures immune to extra damage from critical hits are not vulnerable to this additional damage. The scout must be able to see the target well enough to pick out a vital spot and must be able to reach such a spot. Scouts can apply this extra damage to ranged attacks made while skirmishing, but only if the target is within 30 feet. A scout loses this ability when wearing medium or heavy armor and when carrying a medium or heavy load. 

Fleet of Foot (Ex): When running or charging, you can make one direction change of up to 90 degrees.

Summon Tanar’ri (Sp): 1/day, a bar-lgura can attempt to summon another bar-lgura with a 35% chance of success. This is the equivalent of a 2nd-level spell (CL 12th). 

Improved Skirmish (Ex): This feat allows Olangru the ability to deal +2d6 skirmish damage and gain an additional +2 competence bonus to AC when moving 20 or more feet in a round. 

Skills: A bar-lgura gains a +4 racial bonus on Hide checks and a +10 racial bonus on Jump checks.[/sblock]
Our Resident Minotaur
[sblock=Horny]
Mephistopheles Blutkreiger (“Horny”)
Male Minotaur Fighter 2
Chaotic Good-n-Funky; Large Monstrous Humanoid 
Init: +5; Senses: Darkvision 60’, Scent; Listen: +7, Spot: +7
Languages: Planar Common, Giant

AC: 34; Touch: 16; Flat-footed: 29 (+4 armor, +4 shield, +5 dex, +10 nat, +2 defl, -1 size)
95 HP (8 HD)
Immune to Maze Spells 
Fort +11; Reflex +11; Will +7

Speed: 30 ft.; up to +20ft. for 1 round 1/d (Acrobat Boots)
Melee: Huge +1 Great sword +14/+9 (4d6+13/ 19-20) and 
            Gore +10 (1d8+4)
Base Attack: +8; Grapple: +20
Attack Options: Powerful Charge (Gore) + 17 (4d6+12)
Combat Gear: Sacred Scabbard (3/d Bless Weapon swift 10r), Potions CMW (2), CLW, Prot from Fire, Resist Electicity 10, Endure Elements

Abilities: STR 27; DEX 20; CON 20; INT 10; WIS 12; CHR 3
Special Qualities: Reach 10ft; never lost or flat-footed; scent
XP: 45,000
Feats: Track, Monkey Grip, Improved Natural Armor (x3), Improved Buckler Defense
Skills: Climb +7, Heal +5; Hide +3, Jump +7, Knowledge (Planes) +1, Listen +7, Move Silently +5, Search +6, Spot +7, Swim +8, Tumble +7
Possessions: Magic Items - Buckler +3, Ring of Protection +2, Studded Leather +2, Amulet of Natural Armor +2, Vest of Resistance +1, Gloves of Dexterity +2, Healing Belt, Anklet of Translocation, Sacred Scabbard, Sphere of Awakening, Acrobat Boots; Potions: Protection from Energy (Fire), Cure Moderate Wounds (2), Cure Light Wounds, Resist Energy (Electricity), Endure Elements; Equipment: backpack (large), winter blanket (large), Flint and Steel, Water skins (4 large),100 ft. of silk rope, masterwork potion belt
Money: 100 Platinum, 270 gold; 250gp ruby
Encumbrance: 154 lbs; Load: 692/1386/2080 lbs.[/sblock]


----------



## JollyDoc

Sunday Night Teaser Part 2
_______________________

It seems that clean-up of the Wreck should be a piece of cake, even though two dozen angry pirates remain to be dealt with.

However...once the Legionnaires have time to catch their breath and begin truly exploring the Kraken Society's lair, the fun really begins!  

First, a survivor is located below decks...one who has much information to impart.

Next, when Tower Cleaver goes temporarily insane, who among his fellow Legionnaires will dare to stand against him?  Hint:  It's not who you'd think    

The treasure of the Kraken Society is discovered, but no treasure vault worth its salt is ever left unprotected...


----------



## Hammerhead

It couldn't be Daelric who'd stand up to Cleaver. Right?


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Next, when Tower Cleaver goes temporarily insane, who among his fellow Legionnaires will dare to stand against him?  Hint:  It's not who you'd think



Well, usually the first person to get away from an insane  Minotaur would be Mandi. She might just have some tricks up her sleeve, too, for "curing" him or maybe wanted to try out a new form (polymorph / shape change).  



			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> The treasure of the Kraken Society is discovered, but no treasure vault worth its salt is ever left unprotected...



At how much of their resources was the legion at the time of this encounter?


----------



## Joachim

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Next, when Tower Cleaver goes temporarily insane, who among his fellow Legionnaires will dare to stand against him?  Hint:  It's not who you'd think




ANSWER:  The one that got trapped in the room with TC via _Wall of Force_.


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> At how much of their resources was the legion at the time of this encounter?





Well, magically speaking, they were very low on juice, but as the brawlers in the group are fond of saying, "Their axes/spiked chains/dual scimitars never need rest!"


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Joachim said:
			
		

> ANSWER:  The one that got trapped in the room with TC via _Wall of Force_.



 This might actually be a good way for Mandi to get rid of undesireable party members.


----------



## JollyDoc

RAMPAGE AT THE WRECK

“Everyone, gather round me,” Mandi ordered as the six companions paused for a moment to regroup behind one of the stilted shanties.  She peered out across the cove at the architectural nightmare suspended in the two great trees.  Many enemies, including the gigantic retriever, were visible on all the derelict vessels, though most seemed concentrated on the lower wrecks.  The uppermost, some hundred feet above the water, had few, if any defenders.  To Mandi’s mind that meant they were probably the most heavily defended, and thus might be were Vanthus and Lavinia were to be found. 
“We’re going straight to the top,” she announced, explaining her reasoning.  The others nodded, and began preparing their defenses, both magical and mundane.  When all were ready, they linked hands around the sorceress as she began her spell.  An instant later, they vanished.

The nameplate on the ship declared it the Glad, but it remained a ship in name only.  It was naught more than a hollow shell, its upper decks stripped bare and its lower ones removed to create a single, large space within.  That area was horrifically decorated with large, hanging snake skins, several of which also appeared to have humanoid features like arms or legs.  The skins wafted in the wet breeze, layered like curtains so that it was difficult to make out the details of the area beyond.  An acrid stink filled the air.  The Legionnaires appeared in the sky above the Glad, and the first thing they noticed where the six half-blood yuan-ti who hovered, poised just above the deck.  The second thing that caught their attention was another ship, the Baeldictum, connected to the Glad by a pair of narrow rope bridges some sixty-feet long.  The deck of that vessel was merely that…a deck.  The underlying hull and lower decks were gone, leaving the ship’s rotting and wet ribs hanging down like the dangling legs of some enormous insect.  It appeared as if a fight had recently taken place there, as the boards were sticky with dried blood and bits of fetid flesh.  A rope bridge hung between the main mast and a circular platform that surrounded the central tree of the structure, and a platform aft of the main deck was supported by a single thick piling and held a ballista, with a barrel of ammunition sitting nearby.  

Atop the crow’s walk of the Baeldictum perched a trio of pierced and tattooed harpies…Sisters of Lamentation, while manning the ballista was a female Lemorian, one Bilgerut Nora by name.  As soon as the Legionnaires appeared, the Sisters began to sing, their haunting, warbling melodies filling the air.  Involuntarily, Octurus paused to listen, the music washing over him like a wave of sorrow.  He remembered his tribe and his warrior brothers.  Their loss came back to him as a physical blow, and he felt tears begin to trickle down his face.
“Lock it up, boy!”  Sepoto snarled, slapping the Maztican roughly between his shoulders as a hail of arrows from the yuan-ti filled the air around them, punctuated by the hum of the ballista below.  The company quickly began to disperse, but as they moved, missiles pierced Gregor, ripping through his thigh, and upper arm, while another grazed Octurus’s forehead.  Tower Cleaver barely noticed the black-fletched arrow that suddenly sprouted from his shoulder, and Sepoto angrily ripped another from his buttock as it sank home.  
“Take cover!”  Mandi shouted, as she streaked towards one of the half-bloods, the claws of her demonic form extended.  Just as she reached the archer, however, she saw movement from within the ship’s hull below her.  A massive shadow detached itself from the darkness there and heaved its bulk into the feeble daylight.  Its body was that of a large serpent, though two heavily muscled arms sprouted from its torso, gripping a large falchion in both hands.  Where its head should have been, six serpentine necks writhed, each topped by a snake-like head.  Mandi had heard rumors of such a creature, but had never seen one in the flesh, nor had she ever hoped to.  It was an anathema…a creature that other yuan-ti worshipped as gods!

“Ware!”  Mandi cried to her companions, but it was already too late.  A black miasma of blasphemous energy rippled out from the anathema, washing over the Legionnaires.  The pure evil power of the wave instantly stunned all of the Legionnaires, save Mandi, whose heart was already tainted by the rage that filled it.  In a blur of motion, the half-bloods were in flight, closing to her dazed friends as they reeled from the psychic assault.  The Legionnaires were sitting ducks.  One of the assassins flew close enough to Tower Cleaver for its forked tongue to flicker against the minotaur’s face.  Hissing with what sounded like ophidian laughter, the yuan-ti plunged a curved dagger deep into Cleaver’s gut.  A second warrior seized Octurus by the neck and jabbed its own blade into the Maztican’s back, angling towards his kidney, while a third used both hands to drive its dagger clean through Gregor’s shoulder.  Mandi knew they were all dead if she didn’t do something to neutralize the anathema, and quickly.  Focusing her magic, she quickly conjured a wall of pure force across the lower section of the hull, sealing the monstrosity behind it.

Sepoto and Tower Cleaver gave as good as they had recieved once they'd shaken free of effects of the anathema’s blasphemous magic.  The yuan-ti were fast, however, and they fought like a well-oiled machine, flanking their opponents and somersaulting through the air as they moved.  Blood flowed freely from both friends and foes.  Octurus, meanwhile, scrubbed viciously at the tears that continued to flow down his face.  He could not block the harpies’ infernal music from his ears, and the flood of memories and emotions overwhelmed him.  In anguish, he threw back his head to the sky and began babbling incoherently in his native tongue, calling out to his ancestors for forgiveness.  Slowly, but inexorably, a pair of half-blood assassins moved towards him, unseen and unheeded by the Maztican.

Gregor was caught in the middle of the melee, a place he distinctly did not want to be.  Bleeding from several minor wounds, he fought his way to the relative safety offered by Cleaver’s whirling axe and Sepoto’s snapping chain.  Once buffered from the battle, the druid began to chant, calling out to the elemental spirits to heed him.  In a whirling vortex of power, the spirits answered.  The vortex grew into a funnel-cloud of hurricane-force wind, from which glowed two malevolent red eyes.  The elemental howled in fury at being called from its home plane, and immediately lashed out at the yuan-ti nearest it, buffeting the half-blood with wind gusts that struck like hammers.  

Mandi watched with grim amusement as the anathema struck the invisible wall again and again in a vain attempt to break free.  But the sorceress underestimated the creature known as the Seventh, the matriarch of the Seventh Coil yuan-ti in Scuttlecove.  Grasping a medallion in the shape of a serpent devouring its own tail, the Seventh spoke a word, and a beam of green energy lanced from between her fingers and struck the force wall, disintegrating it in a burst of magical power.  When the Kraken’s Society’s outpost had initially been attacked, it had not been the Seventh’s intent to interfere.  If the pirates could not defend themselves, then they were of no use to her as allies.  However, when the invaders had chosen to bring the fight to her and her children, then all bets were off.  She would make them pay for their insolence, and show the pirates how powerful the Seventh Coil really was.

“Cleaver!  Do you have this?”  Sepoto bellowed over the din of battle.
In answer, the big minotaur swung his axe in a wide arc, devastating two of the half-bloods.
“Good!”  Sepoto shouted.  “I’m heading for the Sisters!  We’ve got to undo whatever they’ve done to Octurus!”
With a loud war cry, the crusader streaked away from the battle and towards the deck of the Baeldictum.  Meanwhile, while Cleaver’s attention was momentarily distracted, two of the remaining yuan-ti broke away, flying straight towards an unsuspecting Daelric, who was busy focusing on the horrific sight of the Seventh below him.  Roaring in outrage, Cleaver prepared to  follow, but Mandi called after him, “Cleaver wait!  I need you down here!  The anathema is free!  It’s like a god to them!  If we kill it the others will fall quickly!”
Cleaver looked skeptically up at Daelric.
“Don’t worry!” Gregor shouted.  “I’ll send the elemental to aid him!”
Cleaver seemed satisfied with that, and dove for the deck of the wreck below.  With a gesture, Gregor commanded the elemental to pursue the yuan-ti.  Unfortunately, the assassins were faster, and as Daelric turned towards the hissing behind him, one of them plunged his dagger into the priest’s side, while the other slashed viciously across Daelric’s forehead, slicing away a flap of skin and sending blood gushing into his eyes.  An instant later, however, the howling cyclone was upon them, whirling and battering at the snake-men, allowing Daelric a chance to slip back into invisibility.

The Seventh reared, its cruel blade reaching for Mandi, but the nimble sorceress took to the sky, deftly avoiding the strike while at the same time weaving her magic.  As the spell washed over her, the Seventh went rigid, confusion in her eyes.  Then, slowly, hypnotically, she began to sway and gyrate, looking like a horrific cobra mesmerized by a snake charmer.
“Now!  While she’s helpless!”  Mandi screamed.
Tower Cleaver roared and charged forward, swinging his axe with abandon.  The Seventh hissed and spat as her blood sprayed across the deck, but she never stopped her dance.

Sepoto reached the crow’s walk of the Baeldictum, and the three Sisters perched there turned towards him, the words of their songs suddenly shifting.  The crusader felt the power of the melodies wash over him, invoking feelings of grief, fear and horror, yet he steeled his will and pushed ahead, driving the maddening songs from his head.  His chain whirled and hummed, slashing the nearest harpy to ribbons in a matter of seconds.  Her sisters shrieked and took to the air, heading for the rigging higher up the mast.  Sepoto prepared to follow, but a shout from below him caught his attention. The female Lemorian had left her ballista and was winging her way towards him, cursing as she came.
“The gods damn ye, ye great rock-headed lummox!  When me man gets through with ye, ye’ll wish yer mam had never spat ye out!”
Sepoto waited calmly until she was just in range, then snapped his chain in her face, opening up a deep gash on her already scarred countenance.
“Seems to me that if your man were truly a man at all, he’d be at your side already,” he quipped.  He then turned and took to the air again, pursuing the Sisters as Bilgerut Nora continued to spew epithets after him.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mandi saw one of the yuan-ti preparing to cast a spell.
“Daelric!” she shouted to the invisible priest, who had only just managed to get his hemorrhaging under control.  “Stop him!”
Daelric looked around in momentary confusion before he saw the assassin and realized what the snake-man was planning to do.  The magic he summoned would conjure a thick mist around the Seventh, hiding her from Cleaver’s view.  Quickly, Daelric called on his own magic, and as the last words of the spell left the yuan-ti’s lips, the priest’s counterspell struck, splintering the incantation into harmless shards.  Meanwhile, Tower Cleaver was in a blood frenzy.  Again and again he chopped and hacked at the anathema, and all the while she screamed and danced, until finally, her performance ended as she toppled like a felled oak to the deck.  Not missing a beat, the gore-spattered minotaur let his momentum carry him towards the yuan-ti who had tried to protect the Seventh, his axe wrecking the unfortunate creature before he ever knew what hit him.

Sepoto reached the second of the Sisters, and made as quick and efficient work of her as he had her sibling.  The last of the harpies gaped in horror at the killing machine before her.  She attempted to flee again, but the goliath wrapped his chain around one of her feet as she rose, and yanked her back.  As he snapped the chain free, he coiled it around his fist and promptly crushed the Sister’s skull.  At that moment, the flapping of wings caught his attention as Bilgerut Nora rose up behind him again, still cursing.
“Some people just have to learn the hard way,” Sepoto sighed, but before he could move, Octurus came out of nowhere, the harpies’ spell broken.  He hit the Lemorian like a dervish, his blades flaying the skin from the demon-spawn as she spun awkwardly towards the ground one-hundred feet below.

Gregor grinned savagely as his elemental minion hurled the broken body of one of the yuan-ti out over the cove, and then proceeded to focus its raw power on another.  His smile quickly faded however, as a scaly hand seized him from behind.  His head was wrenched violently to one side and then blinding pain flared from the left side of his head as a dagger was driven into his ear.  His concentration broken, the elemental roared a final time before vanishing back to its own realm.  As he struggled to free himself from his assailant, he heard Tower Cleaver’s distinctive cry.
“I kill your God!” the minotaur bellowed.  “Now I kill you too!”  
Gregor’s attacker was suddenly and violently wrenched off of him as the barbarian pulled its arm from its socket and hurled it to the deck below.  Then, with a savage chop, Cleaver’s axe bisected the skull of the last remaining yuan-ti.

Sepoto watched the last assassin drop with the same touch of amazement he always felt when watching Tower Cleaver “work.”  He turned his eyes to the wrecks below, where he saw the bulk of the pirates swarming up rat lines, heading their way.  The retriever was not far behind.  It seemed their respite was destined to be brief.  As he turned back to warn his comrades, he caught a flicker of movement from behind the huge trunk of the tree which pierced the hull of another ship some forty feet below…the Two-faced Wretch.  The deck of the vessel was cluttered with coils of rope, crates and other nautical supplies.  A horrendous figurehead of a demonic, two-faced abomination hung from the bow, which had been extended into a square platform that provided an unobstructed view of the surrounding saltmarsh.  The main hatch stood open, and it was from the hold that Sepoto guessed the furtive figure had come, doubtless attempting to escape while he could.  
“Not so fast, matey,” the goliath mumbled as he dropped the intervening distance rapidly, landing deftly beside the hatch.
“Show yourself,” he commanded, “and you may yet live!”
“Oh, I’ll show myself,” the non-descript pirate who emerged from behind the tree chuckled, “but I most certainly will not grant you the same mercy that you deign to show me!”  
As the man stepped forward, his features began to melt and flow, morphing into a horrific serpentine creature that shared two humanoid torsos atop a single, coiling body.  Each torso waved a set of six humanoid arms, all clutching cruel scimitars.  The monster’s two baboon-like heads glowered menacingly, their eyes beady and bright with hate.
“Oh, and I’d like you to meet an associate of mine,” the demon known as Ziovayne gurgled.  “Vzorthys!  Come greet our guest!”
Sepoto whirled as he sensed movement behind him.  Rising from the hatch was a fifteen-foot diameter sphere of cartilage and leathery flesh.  One large eye glared from its center above a mouth filled with shark-like teeth.  Above the eye writhed two long eyestalks, while below the eye dangled a pair of long, powerful arms tipped with crab-like claws.  Sepoto swallowed, and shouted out through the mental link he shared with his comrades…

“…Get down here!  Now!”
The force of the goliath’s thoughts caused all of the Legionnaires to involuntarily clutch their heads.  Mandi peered over the edge of the Glad’s railing and saw Sepoto’s situation.  
“We’re not done yet,” she said.  “Cleaver, Gregor, get moving.  Daelric, hang back.  Octurus, you’re with me.”
The druid and the minotaur took flight, diving towards the Two-faced Wretch, but as they drew near the deck, Vzorthys turned towards them, his central eye flashing with baleful light.  Gregor cried out as the sudden burst blinded him and sent him tumbling in a daze.  He landed hard on the deck, and lay there, stunned.  Cleaver managed to avert his gaze at the last instant, but when he turned back, a thin, blue beam of light lanced from one of the eye stalks of the creature, and when it struck his left arm, it encased the appendage in ice.  The barbarian looked at his frozen arm and snarled, his rage deepening.  He landed on the boards like a battering ram, and hacked deep into the chitonous hide of Vzorthys.  The eye-of-the-deep shrieked and floated away, but as Cleaver moved to follow, a third figure rose from the hold.  It was another Lemorian, but different  from the others they’d faced.  Barrel-chested and ruddy-skinned, his demonic features accentuated his handsome appearance with a cruel edge.  He wore polished leathers, and carried a single-edged blue-steel blade in one hand, and a white-bladed dagger in the other.  
“I be Cold Captain Wyther!” he bellowed as Cleaver stopped short.  “This be my ship yer trespassin’ on, and th’penalty fer that is death!”
Tower Cleaver and the Lemorian faced each other for several long, silent seconds.  Finally, the snarling minotaur took a step forward, breaking the stand-off, but at the same moment, Wyther stepped back and Vzorthys darted in front of him.  Furious, Cleaver struck at the abomination again, but Vzorthys retaliated with another freezing eye beam, sending numbing cold down the minotaur’s leg.

At the same instant, Ziovayne lunged towards Sepoto, all twelve of his blades whirling like hornet’s nest.  Sepoto turned to meet the attack, his chain parrying and snapping with dizzying speed, but the demon was just too fast.  One of his blades stabbed forward, running completely through the goliath’s left shoulder, instantly leaving his arm numb.  As he was forced back, step by step, he suddenly found himself abutting Vzorthys.  Instinctively, he struck out, his chain ripping through the creature’s hide.  Vzorthys stuck as well, his claws seizing Sepoto by both arms and lifting him into the air.  The eye-of-the-deep opened hiss jaws wide, drawing the goliath’s head towards the gnashing teeth.  Suddenly, all three of his eyes went wide before he dropped like a lead weight to the deck and rolled on his side, Tower Cleaver’s axe protruding from his back.  Quickly, Sepoto turned back to Ziovayne, fully expecting the demon’s blades to carve him to pieces.  He was thus amazed to see the fiend pounding furiously with his swords at what appeared to be thin air.  When the crusader realized he could no longer hear the demon’s roars, he knew what had happened…Mandi.
“Thank me later!” the sorceress snapped.  “For now, kill the Lemorian!”
Sepoto quickly looked around for the Captain, only to find him silently stalking towards the still-dazed form of Gregor, murder in his eyes.  With a cry, the crusader snapped his chain towards the pirate’s legs, but with an agility that defied belief, Wyther spun on his heel and caught the chain on both blades, coiling it around them.  With a furious tug, he pulled Sepoto from his feet, driving the wind from the goliath’s lungs as he struck the deck.  Wyther then freed his blades and turned back towards Gregor.

Unseen during the melee, Octurus emerged silently from behind the ship’s mainmast.  So intent was Wyther on the druid, that he never saw the Maztican coming.  When Octurus leaped towards the pirate, two of his tattoos, one of a raptor and the other of an ape, roared to frightening life.  Jumping like the dinosaur totem he wore, Octurus planted both feet into Wyther’s back, while at the same time crossing his scimitars in an X before slashing them across the Lemorian’s back, almost severing the pirate’s bat-like wings.  With a cry of pain and fury, Wyther spun, and drove the hilt of his sword into the Maztican’s stomach, sending him sprawling to the deck.  He raised both blades, preparing to impale them into the demon hunter’s chest, when the huge bulk of Tower Cleaver rose up before him.  
“I kill gods!” the minotaur growled.  “Puny demons no challenge!”  
Two strokes later, Cold Captain Wyther’s head rolled across the deck of the Two-faced Wretch to come to a rest against the figurehead.
“Now call ship, Three-faced wretch,” Cleave snorted.

“Don’t congratulate yourselves yet,” Mandi called.  “It seems our demon friend has managed to escape, but he didn’t count on my interdiction.  You’ve got about twenty seconds to prepare yourselves.”
The others looked, and sure enough, Ziovayne had vanished.  Octurus jumped to his feet, waving his blades at his comrades.  
“Stay back!” he shouted.  “The demon is mine!  The Whirling Fury demands his blood!”
Sepoto and Cleaver were so taken-aback by the Maztican’s tone, that they hesitated involuntarily.  In that instant, Ziovayne reappeared, rearing up directly behind Octurus, all twelve blades poised to strike.  In what almost seemed like slow motion, Octurus turned, teeth bared, spittle flying from his mouth.  He leaped directly into the whirlwind of steel, yet no blade touched his flesh.  Instead, his own swords hacked several fingers from Ziovayne’s hands, the momentum of his attack driving the demon back.  As the fiend pulled away, Octurus landed upon his chest, and with two, lightning-swift cuts, slashed both the demon’s throats.  Ziovayne collapsed to the deck, his black blood pooling around him.  

The Legionnaires stood, chests heaving with the force of their exertions.  Slowly, Gregor pulled himself to his feet.  All of their enemies lay dead at their feet…or so it seemed.
“Um…guys,” Daelric called, unseen in their midst.  “I think we’ve got company.”
When the companions looked about, they saw some two-dozen pirates, including a quartet of Lemorians, swarming over the rails of the Wretch.  Then, looming above them all, came the monstrous bulk of the retriever…


----------



## Bryon_Soulweaver

I'm surprised no one thought of burning something as a distraction.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Wow, and Whyther, too. Impressive !!!


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## Hammerhead

Bryon_Soulweaver said:
			
		

> I'm surprised no one thought of burning something as a distraction.




I guess the Legion didn't need to resort to the "Plan B" of adventurers everywhere.


----------



## Aracase

Bryon_Soulweaver said:
			
		

> I'm surprised no one thought of burning something as a distraction.



As a group we've talked about this before, and dismissed it outright.  Hence the previous '56 vs. the Legion'.
We would prefer that they come at us all at once, preferably at the front door, so we don't have to track their sorry ass down.  We've also told JollyDoc that if they happen to bring all their treasure with them that would help save time too.


----------



## carborundum

Good grief! Every time I read a new JD Story Hour post these days, I can't think of much else to say! Awesome


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## Bryon_Soulweaver

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> I guess the Legion didn't need to resort to the "Plan B" of adventurers everywhere.



Actually, that's "Plan C" in my book, but all the same; when in doubt, burning something to get everyone's attention. And shame on them for not following the Adventurers Guide Book. 





			
				Aracase said:
			
		

> As a group we've talked about this before, and dismissed it outright. Hence the previous '56 vs. the Legion'.
> We would prefer that they come at us all at once, preferably at the front door, so we don't have to track their sorry ass down. We've also told JollyDoc that if they happen to bring all their treasure with them that would help save time too.



Bah, JollyDoc is being too nice. But the meat shi--I mean, TC can kill gods, so it doesn't matter, really.


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## JollyDoc

Bryon_Soulweaver said:
			
		

> Bah, JollyDoc is being too nice. But the meat shi--I mean, TC can kill gods, so it doesn't matter, really.





Nice???  You've got to understand...these guys are battlefield control demons!  Mandi can thin out some BBEG's quite nicely.  Throw in Tower Cleaver's horrendous damage, Octurus's threat range of 15 or so (complete with auto-confirms with his on-hand weapon), Sepoto's general utilitarianism, and Daelric's constant buff/heal role, not to mention Gregor, who can assist with a summoned elemental here, or a slime wave there, and what's a DM to do??

Still, there is only one original member of the Legion still present, so I must be doing something right  
Plus, the Abyss is waiting, and there, things get taken to a whole new level


----------



## Bryon_Soulweaver

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Nice???  You've got to understand...these guys are battlefield control demons!  Mandi can thin out some BBEG's quite nicely.  Throw in Tower Cleaver's horrendous damage, Octurus's threat range of 15 or so (complete with auto-confirms with his on-hand weapon), Sepoto's general utilitarianism, and Daelric's constant buff/heal role, not to mention Gregor, who can assist with a summoned elemental here, or a slime wave there, and what's a DM to do??



Uhh, more monsters?



			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Still, there is only one original member of the Legion still present, so I must be doing something right
> Plus, the Abyss is waiting, and there, things get taken to a whole new level



Hehe. The Abyss is not for children. How much I know from my own (characters) experience.


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## Joachim

dreaded double post


----------



## Joachim

Just to give you an idea of what the JD is up against, here is Mandi as she sails the Sea Wyvern into the start of Into the Maw (I haven't updated her in a while, so quite a bit has changed, especially after I used a _limited wish_ several levels ago to simulate a _psychic reformation_).

*Ozymandia 'Mandi' Enoreth (CR 17)*
Female gold elf Wizard 5 / Master Specialist (Transmutation) 10 / Archmage 2
LE Medium outsider (native)
*Init +7*; *Senses* low-light vision; darkvision 60 feet; Listen -1, Spot -1
*Languages* Common, Elven, Abyssal, Infernal, Celestial, Draconic, Maztican
----------------------------------
*AC* 19, touch 15, flat-footed 14
(+5 Dex, +4 armor)
*hp* 130 (17 HD)
*Fort* +13, *Ref* +13, *Will* +20; +2 racial bonus against Enchantment effects
----------------------------------
*Speed* 30 ft. (6 squares), Swim 15 ft. (3 squares)
*Space* 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. 
*Base Atk* +8; Grp +7
*Combat Gear* staff of evocation (31 charges), wand of _detect secret doors_ (48 charges), wand of _comprehend languages_ (50 charges), wand of _detect magic_  (50 charges), wand of _knock_ (50 charges, 11 potions of _cure light wounds_, 10 potions of _invisibility_, 10 potions of _cure serious wounds_, 3 potions of _fly_, 2 scrolls of _Mordenkainen's lucubration_, 2 scrolls of _Rary's arcane conversion_, 5 scrolls of _sending_, 2 scrolls of _teleport_, rod of _extend spell_ (lesser), rod of _extend spell_ (greater), rod of _empower spell_ (lesser)

*Wizard Spells Prepared* (equivalent CL 19th, 22nd for Transmutation, 21st for spells from the Teleportation subschool), +2 to all caster level checks to break SR, can take 10 on all caster level checks, +1 to DCs and SR checks vs. chaotic outsiders, use of _circlet of mages_ (3 charges per day):

*9th* - _Bigby's crushing hand_ (+46 grapple check), _mass hold monster_ (DC 31), _shapechange_

*8th* - _mind blank_, _Otto's irresistible dance_, _avascular mass_ (DC 31), _prismatic wall_ (DC 29) 

*7th* - _forcecage_, _glass strike_ (DC 30), _greater arcane sight_, _final rebuke_ (DC 29), _submerge ship_

*6th* -  _greater anticipate teleportation_, _disintegrate_ (x4) (DC 29), _control water_ 

*5th* - _baleful polymorph_ (x2) (DC 28), _cone of cold_ (DC 26), _hold monster_ (x2) (DC 27), _Rary's telepathic bond_, plus 5th level Pearl of Power

*4th* - _celerity_ (x3), _dimensional anchor_, _locate creature_, _polymorph_, _solid fog_,  plus 4th level Pearl of Power

*3rd* - _detect ship_, _dimension step_ (x2), _fly_, _greater mage armor_, _haste_, _slow_ (x2) (DC 26), plus 3rd level Pearl of Power

*2nd* - _alter self_, _glitterdust_ (DC 23), _heroics_, _scorching ray_ (+13 ranged touch, 3 rays) (generally empowered by rod of _empower spell_), _see invisibility_, _snake's swiftness_ (x2), _stormrunner's ward_, plus 2nd level Pearl of Power (usually to retrieve _scorching ray_)

*1st* - _benign transposition_, _magic missile_, _nerveskitter_, _ray of clumsiness_ (+13 ranged touch, 1d6+5 dex penalty and empowered by spellshard) (x2), _shield_ (x2), _wave's blessing_, plus 1st level Pearl of Power (usually to retrieve _ray of clumsiness_)

*Cantrips* - _amanuensis_, _mage hand_, _message_ (x3)

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

*Abilities* Str 8, Dex 20, Con 20, Int 32, Wis 14, Cha 8

*SQ* Immunity to _sleep_ effects, able to notice secret or concealed doors, prohibited from using spells from the schools necromancy and illusion, no familiar, immediate magic option (PHB II) _sudden shift_ 11/day, minor school esoterica (transmutation), moderate school esoterica (transmutation), major school esoterica (transmutation) 3/day, caster level increase +2 (transmutation), outsider traits, High Arcana (+1 spell power), High Arcana (Arcane Reach), Spell Versatility variant (UA, treat _avascular mass_ as a transmutation spell)

*Feats* Alacritous Cogitation, Arcane Mastery, Collegiate Wizard, Favored Magic Foe (chaotic outsiders), Greater Spell Focus (Transmutation)(B), Minor Shapeshift, Otherwordly, Scribe Scroll (B), Skill Focus (Spellcraft)(B), Ship's Mage, Spell Focus (Transmutation), Spell Focus (Enchantment)
*Flaw* Innattentive
*Trait* Absent-Minded
*Team Feats* Spell Barrage

*Skills* Concentration +30, Diplomacy +1, Knowledge (arcana) +34, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +32, Knowledge (nature) +32, Knowledge (the planes) +32, Knowledge (geography) +32, Knowledge (religion) +13, Knowledge (history) +13, Profession (sailor) +27, Search +13, Spellcraft +36, Survival +4

*Possessions* combat gear plus _Ring of Enduring Arcana_, _Ring of Arcane Might_, _Tunic of Steady Spellcasting augmented with +4 resistance bonus to saves and +6 enhancement bonus to Con_, _Third Eye (Penetrate) augmented with +6 enhancement bonus to Int_, _Bracers of Arcane Freedom_, _Boots of Big Stepping augmented with +6 enhancement bonus to Dex_, _Robe of Arcane Might (Transmutation)_, _Belt of Battle_, _Mage's Circlet_, _Heward's Handy Haversack_, _Greater Crystal of Aquatic Action_ (continually attached to robe), _Captain's Cloak_ (grants +5 competence bonus to Profession - sailor), _Gauntlets of Ghost-Fighting_, _Empowered Spellshard (Ray of Clumsiness)_, _Pearl of Power_ (2nd level), _Pearl of Power_ (3rd level), _Pearl of Power_ (4th level), _Pearl of Power_ (5th) level, focus for _greater anticipate teleportation_, focus for _submerge ship_, focus for _shapechange_, focus for _greater plane shift_ (Prime Material and the Abyss), 9000 gp ruby dust (for _forcecage_)  

*Spellbook* spells prepared, plus 0 - all (minus illusion and necromancy); 1st - _comprehend languages, expeditious retreat, feather fall, grease, identify, lesser orb of acid, lesser orb of cold, lesser orb of fire, lesser orb of sound, mage armor, mount, true strike_; 2nd - _bear's endurance, cat's grace, fox's cunning, knock, rope trick, resist energy, wraithstrike_; 3rd - _dispel magic, fireball, sound lance, water breathing_; 4th - _assay spell resistance, blast of flame, dimension door, evard's black tentacles, flame whips, orb of force, Rary's mnemomic enhancer_; 5th - _cone of cold, greater blink, Mordenkainen's private sanctum, sending, telekinesis, wall of force_; 6th - _antimagic field, Rary's arcane conversion, true seeing, wall of iron_; 7th - _greater arcane sight, limited wish, vision_; 8th - _chain dispel, ghostform, maddening whispers, greater plane shift, polymorph any object_

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

*Hook* "There are two types of people who cross my path.  The first either assist me or get out of my way.  The second end up as piles of dust on the floor.  Which category shall I place you in?"


----------



## JollyDoc

Thought I'd post this piece-meal, since our game will still be on hiatus for another two to three weeks...

BULL IN A CHINA SHOP

Gashgape Neften and his fellow captains, Two-Stubs Vexir, Casketbreath Gaven, and Rumbelly Wade, had been left behind to oversee this motley crew when the others had left in pursuit of the mutineers, and they were none to happy about it.  However, they had known enough to keep their mouths shut, especially after what had happened to Ratline Sid.  Now, as they gazed upon the body of their dead commander, the four grinned evilly at one another.  Opportunity only knocked once, and more the fool was the man who didn’t answer the door.  

With a chorus of howls and curses, their men surged towards the invaders, who, after battling their way to the Wreck and then dancing with Cold Captain Wyther and his cronies, must surely be spent by now.  Gashgape realized the error in this line of thinking when a column of fire suddenly washed over the pirates, closely followed by an arcing bolt of lightning that leaped from man to man, frying one of the swabs on the spot, and even managing to sizzle Two-Stubs and Casketbreath.  An instant later, and the demon pet that the trespassers had with them completely obliterated the retriever with a blast of some sort of green energy. The Lemorian barely had a chance to register everything that transpired.  Within moments, the minotaur was among the pirates, cutting down swaths of them with his enormous axe, while directly across the deck, a goliath swinging a spiked chain handily snapped Casketbreath’s neck.  Gashgape wasn’t immediately concerned about this, as it just meant they’d only have to divide the fleet three ways instead of four.  

Then the tide seemed to turn in their favor as the buccaneers quaffed Fire Breath and proceeded to spit flames at the land lubbers.  Meanwhile, ol’ Two-Stubs knocked back one of his healing draughts and flicked the empty flask at the demon, laughing all the while.  He laughed even harder when the fiend threw bolts of fire at him, obviously not recognizing a fellow Abyss-spawn, who couldn’t be harmed by the fires of the Pit, much less the pitiful magic of a demonic slave.  The laughter stopped a split-second later, however, only to be replaced by a loud croaking as a small toad appeared where Two-Stubs had just been standing.

The battle turned again, and this time it seemed it would not be turning back.  More blasts of lightning crackled around him as the sky above suddenly filled with thunderheads that had not been there a moment before.  The pirates began to scatter, losing any semblance of a unified front.  In addition to the battle-crazed minotaur, a savage Maztican was leaping among the men, hacking and slashing with a pair of scimitars that reminded Gashgape of a dark elf ranger he’d once seen kill two dozen orcs single-handedly.  The crew was falling like cordwood, and then Rumbelly went down…or up, rather, as he was impaled upon the minotaur’s horns and lifted into the air, only to be casually tossed overboard.  Before he was fully aware of what had happened, Gashgape Neften found the he was, literally, the last man standing.  Thoughts of surrender briefly flickered through his mind, but his last thoughts were of his ship, and wishing to have been able to have sailed the sea one final time before the goliath’s whirling chain sent him on his way to repay a debt he owed to the flesh furnaces of Lemoriax.
__________________________________________________________________

“Is that it then?”  Sepoto asked, looking at the carnage that surrounded them.  “Is that all of them?”
“It would appear so,” Mandi replied, “though I must say, I expected…more from the Kraken Society.”
“But where are Vanthus and Lavinia?” Daelric chimed in.
“Long gone, I suspect,” Mandi answered, “but where, is the question.  I suggest we begin a thorough search of the place.  Perhaps we might find some answers.”

They began their investigation of the Wreck at the bottommost ship, the Fortitude.  The deck of the old merchant caravel was pitted with deep scratches and gouges, no doubt the handiwork of the retriever that had, until recently, stood guard there.  The ship’s mainmast remained in place, and rose nearly to the lower hull of the ship above.  Tattered sails hung limply from the yard arm.  A single door led below decks, and Mandi sent Tower Cleaver to do the honors, in case any stowaways were still onboard.  However, as soon as the minotaur placed his hand on the knob, he stopped.  
“Well?”  Mandi asked.  “We’re waiting!  Have you forgotten how to open a door?”
Slowly, Cleaver turned towards her, and what the sorceress saw in his eyes chilled her to the bone…madness!
“Ware!” she cried.  “He’s been ensorcelled!  There must have been some kind of warding on the door!”
As she spoke, Mandi, still in her demonic guise, flapped into the air, well beyond the reach of Cleaver’s axe.  

Sepoto considered himself a skilled warrior, and fearless in the face of his enemies, but he had known Tower Cleaver for several months, and in that time he had seen first-hand what the minotaur was capable of.  The goliath did not fool himself with the idea the he could stand toe-to-toe with the brute, especially if his mind had snapped.  Calling upon Savras, the crusader stepped into the Shadow realm in order to distance himself from his companion, but in doing so, he forgot about the interdiction spell Mandi constantly surrounded herself with, and promptly vanished into the Astral Plane.

“Daelric!”  Mandi shouted to the invisible priest.  “You’re the only one who can do anything about this!”
Daelric’s heart quailed at the thought.  He knew she was right, but that would mean getting close to the minotaur, which was the last possible place he wanted to be.  Though invisible, he also knew Cleaver had keen ears and a keener sense of smell.  While he pondered his dilemma, Tower Cleaver snorted, his lips curling away from his fangs.  He began to paw the ground with one hoof, and lowered his head, looking directly at Octurus and Gregor.  Gulping audibly, the druid quickly shifted his body into that of a great bird and took flight, leaving the Maztican all by himself.  
“Damn it!”  Mandi cursed from above, and then hurriedly cast a spell.  When Cleaver advanced a step towards Octurus, he found his way barred by an unseen barrier.  Enraged, he began to beat at the force wall, roaring loudly enough to shake the old ship’s timbers.  Octurus let out the breath he’d been holding as a long sigh.  Though quick and no slouch with his blades, he too knew his limits and had seen his own death in Cleaver’s eyes.  

While Daelric saw the practicality and necessity of Mandi’s spell, mind-numbing fear gripped him as he realized he’d been trapped behind the barrier with Tower Cleaver.  Desperately he began backing away as the minotaur spun in his direction.  But it was no longer rage that lurked behind Cleaver’s gaze.  Instead, it was blind panic.  Lowing pitifully, the minotaur lunged forward, running down the far side of the deck, bowling Daelric over in his flight.
“After him, fool!”  Mandi commanded.  
‘Easy for you to say,’ the priest thought to himself.  ‘You’re not the one trapped with an insane, axe-wielding death machine!’
Still, he knew, logically that she was right, and he followed after Cleaver, hoping the minotaur’s own sobs and snorts would mask his approach.  Abruptly, Cleaver halted, poised on the bow of the Fortitude as if he might leap over the side.  Instead, he paused, raised his head in confusion, and then began shouting at the sky in his native tongue, babbling away as if speaking to someone no one else could see.  Daelric knew that it was his only chance.  Darting forward, he called to Shaundekal, not only to grant him the power, but also to grant him more life than he feared he had left.  Laying his hands upon Cleaver’s flank, he channeled holy energy into his friend.  Then he drew back, breathless, waiting.  Slowly, tortuously, Tower Cleaver turned to look down at the priest.
“What happened?” the minotaur asked, befuddled.  In reply, Daelric fainted dead away.


----------



## Hammerhead

I called it.  Indeed, the last one you'd ever expect.


----------



## Supar

you and me both mandi IDed that spell and the table went o . Force wall went up and TC used scent to find me standing next to him!!!!!!


----------



## GilaMonster

What spell was it?


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Symbol of Insanity, if I'm not mistaken.

JollyDoc & Co., how many rounds for the combat with the pirates (from the last post)?


----------



## Joachim

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> JollyDoc & Co., how many rounds for the combat with the pirates (from the last post)?




I be surprised if it was over 3.


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Symbol of Insanity, if I'm not mistaken.
> 
> JollyDoc & Co., how many rounds for the combat with the pirates (from the last post)?




Yes, it was, in fact, a symbol of Insanity.

Let's see...there were sixteen pirates, four captains and the retriever.  IIRC, it was no more than three rounds, but probably more like two.  When the Cleaver gets in the mix and starts swinging with Cleave and Great Cleave, it's not pretty.  I think he was taking four or five pirates down at a time.


----------



## primemover003

That's just brutal...  Minotaurs and Goliath's can serve up some serious butt whipping!  My group is through the first 2 sessions of our campaign and already our Barbarian goliath dropped a T-Rex with a 148 point Crit with his Large Maul.  Our resident Minotaur might not dish damage like TC but you'd be hard pressed to even hit him seeing as his AC is 35.

While not as polished as Jollydoc's fine prose my story hour's up if anybody needs something to read while JD's group is on Hiatus.  It's really more of a campaign journal but hopefully as time goes on I'll find my narrative voice.

Swords against the Savage Tide: a Planewalkers Tale


----------



## javcs

primemover003 said:
			
		

> That's just brutal...  Minotaurs and Goliath's can serve up some serious butt whipping!  My group is through the first 2 sessions of our campaign and already our Barbarian goliath dropped a T-Rex with a 148 point Crit with his Large Maul.  Our resident Minotaur might not dish damage like TC but you'd be hard pressed to even hit him seeing as his AC is 35.
> 
> While not as polished as Jollydoc's fine prose my story hour's up if anybody needs something to read while JD's group is on Hiatus.  It's really more of a campaign journal but hopefully as time goes on I'll find my narrative voice.
> 
> Swords against the Savage Tide: a Planewalkers Tale



Hope your players don't read this SH! Think of the problems you'd have.


----------



## primemover003

javcs said:
			
		

> Hope your players don't read this SH! Think of the problems you'd have.



None of my players ever frequent this or any other boards fortunately...


----------



## gfunk

Table of Contents updated!  JD, don't forget to change the subject line of this thread when you post updates, it still reads 10/8.


----------



## JollyDoc

gfunk said:
			
		

> Table of Contents updated!  JD, don't forget to change the subject line of this thread when you post updates, it still reads 10/8.




Unfortunately, the ENWorld engine is still not allowing me to edit that post.  I've tried with each new update.


----------



## JollyDoc

ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS

Once Mandi had made sure that the trap on the foc’s’le door was inert, Tower Cleaver once again tried the knob, and this time found it turned easily in his hand.  The six companions followed the gangway below decks, where they found themselves in what appeared to be a prison.  Iron-barred doors closed off four cells in the area.  Each one was a filthy, damp cubby furnished with a single bucket, a heap of moldy straw and rags, and a wooden trough near the door to hold food.  Only one of the cells was occupied.  A badly beaten Lemorian, his legs obviously broken and his jaw crushed, reached feebly out to the Legionnaires when he saw them, moaning in agony as he struggled to move.

“Well, well,” Mandi said, looking down on the pitiful sight.  “It appears there really is no honor among thieves, but there is justice.  Sepoto, do you still have the Captain’s keys?”
The goliath moved forward with the key ring he’d taken from Wyther, and tried several in the lock until he found the one that fit.  As the door swung open, Mandi stepped inside and knelt down before the Lemorian, placing her hands on either side of his head as she murmured a spell.
‘I am called Ozymandia,’ she said, speaking telepathically into the mute pirate’s mind via the mental link she’d established with her incantation.  ‘I and my companions comprise the Legionnaires.  Who might you be?’
‘They call me Ratline Sid,’ the pirate moaned, ‘once cap’n o’th’Hell’s Fury, now a mutineer and th’lowly wretch ya see afore’ye.’
‘Mutiny?’ Mandi asked.  ‘Why was there a mutiny, and where are your fellow mutineers?’
‘They’s all dead or fled,’ Ratline answered, ‘but if ye want t’know the why of it, that information comes wit a price.’
Mandi’s eyes narrowed.  ‘Your bargaining position is highly dubious, my friend.’
‘All’s I want is fer ya to ease me suffering.  Can ye mend me wounds a bit?’
Mandi nodded and extracted a healing elixir from her belt pouch.  ‘This won’t completely heal you,’ she said as she placed the flask to Ratline’s mouth and upended it, ‘but it will help, and there’s more where it came from if I find the information you have useful.’
Sid swallowed eagerly, and several of his bruises began to fade, including the ugly purple one around his jaw.  Slowly, he worked his mouth from side to side before nodding and grinning a gap-toothed smile.
“I thank ye, lassie,” he said aloud.  
“You can thank me by telling me what you know,” Mandi countered.
“Aye, so I said,” Ratline acknowledged.  “Not long back, an’ ole member o’th’Society by the name o’Vanthus Vanderboren came back from th’dead.  He showed up here ridin’ a horse with hooves made o’fire, and a mane t’match.  Cap’n Wyther was none to happy t’see th’ole boy, that’s fer sure.  When Vanthus came, he had mighty fine catch o’a’wench wit him, but he kept close hold on’er th’whole time he was here.  He demanded the Cap’n give’im some o’th’ recruiters, an’ provide’im wit a ship, namely th’Crimson Scar, Cap’n Wyther’s flag ship.  Ya could tell Wyther’d rather’ve stabbed’im in th’heart, but ole Vanthus weren’t th’same weasel he were afore he died, and the Cap’n backed down right quick.  Well, when Vanthus finally left, me and some o’th’lads weren’t too keen on how Wyther let’im push’im about like he did, and we decided the fleet might be better off wit someone else at th’helm.”
“Someone like yourself,” Mandi interrupted dryly.
Sid grinned again.  “Just so, lassie.  Only ye can guess how that turned out.  Got meself nearly beat to a pulp and thrown in here, but some o’th’others hightailed it wit some o’th’ships.  Cap’n Wyther sent over half the fleet after’em.  
“So that’s why the place wasn’t fully guarded,” Sepoto nodded.
“You said Vanthus left,” Mandi continued.  “Where did he go?”
Ratline smiled crookedly.  “That would seem t’be valuable information, lassie.”  He opened his mouth like a baby bird.  Sighing, Mandi drew another healing elixir out and administered it to him.  Now the pirate was able to get himself into a sitting position, and the color was returning to his face.
“Thank’ye,” he said, stretching.  “Now, as fer Vanthus, well I’m not fer certain exactly where he was headed, but I do know he fired up th’wakeportal on Wyther’s ship, which took’im t’Gaping Maw.”
“Gaping Maw?”  Sepoto asked.
“Wakeportal?”  Mandi queried.  
“Gaping Maw,” Ratline repeated, looking at Sepoto as if he were a dim-witted child.  “The home o’Demogorgon?  Ain’t ye never heard o’it?  Stuff o’nightmares, let me tell ya, boyo.  As fer wakeportals, if’n ye don’t know about’em, then ye’ll be findin’ that information useful…and valuable.”
Mandi muttered as she gave him a third elixir, this one allowing him to climb slowly to his feet.  
Popping his back, he continued his tale.  “A wakeportal’s a magical stone that, when ye fix it to th’bow o’a ship, it’ll take ye straight t’the Abyss, sailin’ the Abyssal Ocean towards Gaping Maw.  If ye’re lookin’ t’find one, Wyther kept a spare in th’treasury below decks in th’Two-faced Wretch.”
“What about the Shadow Pearls?”  Mandi asked.  “What does the Kraken Society plan to do with them?”
Ratline was silent for a moment before he answered.  “We just finished deliverin’ dozen’o’th’little blighters to cities all across Faerun.  Not sure why we just give’em away when we could’o sold’em, and then stolen’em back.”
“But you don’t know what they’re going to be used for?”  Mandi asked, pointedly.
Ratline shook his head.  “No idea, lassie.  Wish I could help ye more.”
“You’ve done more than enough,” Mandi replied, “and you are free to go.”  
With that, she backed out of the cell, and Ratline tentatively followed and began walking towards the gangway.
“Idon’t envy ye if’n ye’re headed to the Abyss,” he said sincerely, “but perhaps we’ll meet again someday on th’hgh seas.”
“Perhaps,” Mandi said, “but I may not be so merciful next time…”
________________________________________________________

“What is it with pirates and Demogorgon?”  Sepoto sighed.  The company had made their way below deck aboard the Two-Faced Wretch, and had stumbled across what appeared to be some sort of shrine during their search for the treasury.  A grotesque scrimshaw statue of a towering two-headed monster dominated the chamber.  It was composed of numerous huge whalebones that had been filed and fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle.  The entire thing had an unsettling quality about it, almost as if the two skull-like faces could see.  An iron brazier filled with ashes sat between the statue’s feet, and clutched in its tentacles was a single, curious metal orb.
“Scum attracts scum,” Mandi replied absently as she bent to examine the orb.  It seemed to be made of interlocking slats and panels which looked as if they could be moved or manipulated.  However, when the sorceress reached out a hand to slide one of the panels, serrated blades lanced out of the sphere, slashing deeply into her wrists.
“Damn these traps!” she spat, cradling her wounds.
“May I?”  Octurus asked, stepping forward.  When Mandi looked at him incredulously, he shrugged.  “It looks like the puzzle balls that my people carve as toys to amuse children.  I’ve seen them all my life.”
Mandi rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders.  “Be my guest.  I just hope you can still twirl those pig-stickers of yours without fingers.”

Carefully, the Maztican warrior turned the orb about in his hands.  Then, with concentration etched across his brow, he slowly began twisting and turning the various pieces.  With a final adjustment, the sphere suddenly unfolded like a metallic rose, and it floated into the air.  A deep, mauve haze began to seep from the brazier, quickly filling the room with a sickening stink of rotting fish and seaweed.  Suddenly, the demonic statue seemed to slither to awful life.  Its surface filled in with rancid greens and blues and sickly yellows as it took on the fearful countenance of the Prince of Demons.  His two simian heads scowled, writhing above his serpentine body on long snaky necks that made an obscene sucking noise.  Two tentacle arms came into view, dripping as he moved in long strides as though his body was dislocated.  The twin heads looked around the room and then settled their gazes upon Octurus, watching expectantly.  At that moment, the Maztican knew instinctively what he was to do.  Stepping forward, he spoke boldly and without hesitation.
“Tell me what is planned for the shadow pearls,”
The demonic apparition hissed and lashed its tentacles, but nevertheless it began to speak, first one head, and then the other.
“The pearls will be used to trigger a massive savage tide across your world.  The energy that is released from this cataclysm will then be gathered by the Prince of Demons and all the multiverse shall tremble!”
Suddenly, the statue began to roar in rage.  Its tentacles crashed against the walls of the room, and then its gaze turned back down and it spoke in a horrifically sibilant voice.
“I know you.  You seek to oppose me.  But you are mortal.  I shall be with you soon.  You shall know my wrath!”
With that, the statue howled again, just before it exploded in a blast of fire and acid.  So great was the blast, that a hole was rent in the side of the ships hull, and Octurus was flung like a rag-doll through it.
__________________________________________________________________

Some time later, after Daelric had mended the broken bones of Octurus, who had fallen sixty feet to the deck of the Anger, the company stood before a unique door within the bowels of the Two-Faced Wretch.  It was unique in that it was sheathed in lead, and pulsed with a malevolent purple light.  Sepoto was foremost, and he held Wyther’s key ring in his hand.  He had found the key which he presumed would fit the lock, and was only waiting for Mandi and the others to withdraw a safe distance in case it was the wrong key.  When they gave him the signal, he placed the key in the lock.

To Sepoto’s immense relief, the purple haze faded and the door swung silently open.  The walls of the room beyond were plated in what appeared to be lead that shimmered with sparkling energy.  A single, long table sat against the wall immediately to the door’s left.  A few chairs sat nearby, and a spherical object the size of a human head sat atop the table, covered by a deep purple cloth.  The contents of the rest of the room left little doubt as to its purpose.  Sacks of coins, sea chests too full to be properly closed, heaps of silks, suits of partially assembled armor, tapestries, mounds of fine furs and clothing, jewelry boxes, metal coffers, and racks of weapons lined the port and starboard walls, leaving an open area in the center were one might stand and admire the collection.  It was, without a doubt, the treasury of the Kraken Society.  There was also never a doubt that such a horde would be left unguarded.  No sooner had the door opened, than a large creature stepped in front of it.  Standing nearly sixteen feet tall, the hulking brute had a red, scaly hide and a small, skull-like head framed by large ears that almost resembled bat wings.  Its right arm was small and atrophied, the size of a human’s arm, while its left was enormous and grossly overdeveloped, gripping a large, keen-edged blade.  This was Ghourgos, a yagnoloth who had once been the lord of a necropolis in Hades, but who know bridled at the servitude he was forced to endure as a mere treasure warden.  When he saw that it was not his captor, Wyther, who had opened the door, he felt nothing but blind rage, which needed a convenient outlet.

Before Sepoto could react, Ghourgos blade sliced a deep, welling cut across his abdomen, sending him reeling back into the outer chamber.  As the crusader tumbled to the floor, Octurus vaulted over him, landing poised with both blades in hand directly before the demon.  
“Face me, Abyss-spawn!” he shouted.  “I am the Hunter, the right arm of Quetzalcoatl, and I am here to claim your eternal soul!”
“Bah!” Ghourgos spat as he casually back-handed the little human.  Octurus rolled with the punch, however, coming to his feet within the treasury, behind Ghourgos.  As he passed through the door, though, the Maztican felt a searing pain in his chest that vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.  A Forbiddance.  The room was warded against those with a different moral bent than its occupant, and a piece of Octurus’s soul had been torn from him as he passed the threshold.  Ignoring his pain, he raised one of his blades, and hacked deep into the yagnoloth’s quadriceps.  Bellowing in pain, Ghourgos stepped away from Octurus, jerking the scimitar from his hand, still buried in the demon’s flesh as it was.  By that time, Sepoto had regained his feet and rushed back towards the fray.  Ghourgos heard his approach, however, and whirled like a striking cobra, slashing deep into the goliath’s chest with his claws.  Undeterred, Sepoto summoned Savras’s power to his weapon, and when he struck, holy light flared across the chamber.  A moment later, Octurus struck again, this time impaling his remaining blade deep into Ghourgos belly.  So telling was the blow that the yagnoloth was bent double, retching violently onto the floor.  When he finally regained his composure and raised his head, he founding himself staring up at Tower Cleaver.
“Moo,” the minotaur said just before he buried his axe in Ghourgos’s skull.
________________________________________________________

The room proved to be a veritable king’s fortune in treasure, but it was not riches that Mandi sought.  Her eyes had come to rest upon a strange chest.  Cast in iron, it was decorated by seven gargoyle faces that stared out in all directions interspersed with dancing angels.  It appeared that each of the faces could be manipulated to change their expression from anger to horror to sorrow to laughter.
“As I live and breathe,” Mandi said, almost reverently.  “This is the legendary chest of Hathruman.  I’ve read a little on him in my studies.  He was notorious arcane trickster, held as a master in trap-making circles.  Dozens of boxes, coffers, cases, arks and other vessels have borne his name, but he created only one chest…this one, an item so wicked that is rumored to have a will of its own.”
Mandi reached inside one of her belt pouches and retrieved a folded sheet of parchment she had found on Wyther’s body.  Written upon it was a list of spells:  Fear, Rage, Crushing Despair, Crushing Despair, Rage, Fear, and Tasha’s Hideous Laughter.  At first, she had not known what to make of the list, but now, as she stared at the gargoyle faces, it made sense.  Carefully, she began to turn the faces, shifting them in order, clockwise, to horror, then anger, sorrow, sorrow again, anger, horror and laughter.  The top of the chest sprung open with a satisfying click.  Inside were many more gems and jewelry, but concealed within a supple, velvet bag was a tear-shaped purple stone…the wakeportal.
“Well, well,” Mandi said as she held the stone up, appraisingly.  “It seems we have business with the Prince of Demons…”


----------



## javcs

'Moo'?!
 I'll have to use that sometime.

Oh, something that's been bugging me - why barbarian 2 for Tower Cleaver?
I've been making a similar build, and I'm not sure why Barbarian 2, barb 1, certainly is understandable, but, not barb 2.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> “Moo,” the minotaur said just before he buried his axe in Ghourgos’s skull.



That just made my day ! 

Great job, JollyDoc & Co. Nice cleanout of the pirate lair.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Joachim said:
			
		

> Just to give you an idea of what the JD is up against, here is Mandi as she sails the Sea Wyvern into the start of Wells of Darkness



Thanks for the build, Joachim. I just hope you mean "Into the Maw" instead of "Wells of Darkness" - you might need a level or two until then...

Is the rest of the party about 17th level as well?


----------



## Joachim

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Thanks for the build, Joachim. I just hope you mean "Into the Maw" instead of "Wells of Darkness" - you might need a level or two until then...
> 
> Is the rest of the party about 17th level as well?




Oops...fixed.  Four of the party members are right at 17th, and two are near the midpoint of 16th.  Sepoto may actually be ECL 18 (with his +1 from Goliath), and I believe that TC may have 16 HD.


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER

1)  The Legion and the Sea Wyvern set sail for the Abyss...unbeknownst to the crew of the Sea Wyvern!!  Hilarity ensues!

2)  The first inhabitants of the Abyss that the Legion encounters prove to be more ally than enemy, and the company finds that anything can be had...for a price.

3)  Mandi successfully pilots the ship across the Abyssian Ocean to the waters of Gaping Maw, where she and her companions encounter a strange vessel and aid a damned soul...sort of.

4)  The ship reaches the prison of Divided's Ire, a prison where Lavinia is rumored to be held.  Never ones for subtlety, the group blasts a hole in the roof and goes in guns blazing!!


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## Aracase

javcs said:
			
		

> Oh, something that's been bugging me - why barbarian 2 for Tower Cleaver?
> I've been making a similar build, and I'm not sure why Barbarian 2, barb 1, certainly is understandable, but, not barb 2.



It just made things easy/simple.  TC is Minotaur 8 (6HD, 2 ECL), Barb 2 and Warhulk 7, with plans to take the last 3 Warhulk PrC levels.  8+2+10 = 20 

As Joachim said in an earlier post, TC has a sense of purpose, and too many classes just muddle up the fact that all he does is kill stuff, violently.


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## Joachim

Aracase said:
			
		

> As Joachim said in an earlier post, TC has a sense of purpose, and too many classes just muddle up the fact that all he does is kill stuff, violently.




Yes...and he makes a wonderful foil for Mandi.

Tower Cleaver and Mandi are as much a match as peanut butter and jelly


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## Joachim

Crap double post again!


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## cthulhudarren

I'd just like to thank JollyDoc & Co for this thread. It is great fun to read and see a party going thru the Savage Tide.

Great work, peeps!


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## JollyDoc

cthulhudarren said:
			
		

> I'd just like to thank JollyDoc & Co for this thread. It is great fun to read and see a party going thru the Savage Tide.
> 
> Great work, peeps!




You're very welcome!  We appreciate our readership as well.  We are having a blast with Savage Tide, and now that the group has made it to the Abyss, things should really kick into high gear!!


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## Bryon_Soulweaver

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> You're very welcome!  We appreciate our readership as well.  We are having a blast with Savage Tide, and now that the group has made it to the Abyss, things should really kick into high gear!!



Just how many demons are they going to piss off? I mean, two-head-face (can't remember how to spell his name, and I'm too lazy to look it up) has more than a couple so-called allies, doesn't he? Plus all those thousands of demons he commands?



Ouch.


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## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> We are having a blast with Savage Tide, and now that the group has made it to the Abyss, things should really kick into high gear!!



Yeah, I'm sure that the encounters ahead should be enough to satisfy even Octurus' hunger for demons. 

Can't wait for your update!


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## JollyDoc

Bryon_Soulweaver said:
			
		

> Just how many demons are they going to piss off? I mean, two-head-face (can't remember how to spell his name, and I'm too lazy to look it up) has more than a couple so-called allies, doesn't he? Plus all those thousands of demons he commands?
> 
> 
> 
> Ouch.





It ain't called "the Infinite Layers of the Abyss" for nothin'!

Update on update:  Speaking of trips to the Abyss, I just returned from that Hell-on-Earth known as Disney World today, so the game will be on again next Sunday, and I'll get this past's Sunday's update done ASAP.


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## JollyDoc

INTO THE ABYSS

“What’s that you’ve got there?”  Urol asked as he watched Mandi, levitating beneath the Sea Wyvern’s figurehead, place a teardrop-shaped, purple gemstone against the wood.
“It’s called a wakeportal,” Mandi replied distractedly as the pointed end of the stone embedded itself in the planks, leaving only the smooth, convex surface showing.
“Oh?” the gnome said.  “What’s it do?”
“You’ll see,” Mandi answered, rising back to the deck of the ship.  “In fact, I’d like you to assemble the crew for me.  I have an announcement.”

Several minutes later, the entire complement of the Sea Wyvern stood gathered on the main deck as Mandi, flanked by her fellow Legionnaires, addressed them from the foc’s’le.  
“As you all know,” she began without preamble, “we have recently achieved a great victory against the Kraken Society.”
A rowdy cheer greeted this.
“However,” she continued after the cacophony had died, “we failed in our mission.  Lavinia Vanderboren is still missing, as is her demonic brother.  It is my intention to continue our quest to rescue Lavinia, using information that we recovered from the Krakens.  I ask you, is this still your desire?”
Another chorus of ‘Ayes’ were shouted back to her.
“Excellent!”  Mandi nodded.  “Then I have no qualms in telling you that we shall be sailing into troubled waters.  Our path shall not be an easy one, but each one of you knew that when you volunteered for this voyage.  Fear not!  We do not ask more of you than we are willing to undertake ourselves.  Though our path be treacherous, we will walk it together…wherever it may take us!”

After the crew was dismissed, Mandi made her way to the helm where she could focus her mind on activating the wakeportal.
“I notice you didn’t tell them exactly where we’re going,” Sepoto said, mounting the aft deck behind her.
“They’ll find out in due course,” the sorceress replied.
“And what do you think they’ll do then?” asked the goliath.
“By then it will be too late for them to do anything,” Mandi answered, quirking one eyebrow.  “Now, I suggest you prepare yourself, and tell the others to do the same and keep a sharp eye out.  The transposition shouldn’t take more than ten minutes or so, but we’ll be vulnerable during that time.  Also, in case any of the crew should prove unable to…handle…our journey, I want you, Cleaver and Octurus ready to restrain them.”
Sepoto shrugged and nodded.  He wasn’t sure he agreed with her tactics, but the truth of the matter was that they needed the crew, and technically, all of the seamen had volunteered for what they knew would be hazardous duty.  He made his way around the main deck to pass the word to his companions.

Mandi kept the Sea Wyvern under full sail as she concentrated on the wakeportal.  Within minutes, the ship’s wake began to sparkle and flash with mauve light.  A heavy tang of salt and blood filled the air and the sky began to darken.  Several crewmen gasped and pointed at the water.  Things bubbled up from the depths there…bits of flesh and oily streaks oozing across the surface.  The stench began to thicken.  Soon the waters around the Sea Wyvern turned foul, as if some great beast had disgorged all the filth and rubbish ever thrown into the sea in one great heave.  As the sky took on a ghastly hue of red, clouds swirled and spun with dreadful violence, and mauve lightning lanced across the heavens.  Many of the crew threw themselves to the deck, covering their heads in panic.  Suddenly, bolts of lightning arced up from the ship’s wake and struck its sails, mast and rigging.  An instant later, an enormous hole ripped open in the fabric of reality directly before the Sea Wyvern.  It reached out like a black, gaping maw to engulf the ship, and then just as abruptly snapped shut, leaving calm seas once more in its wake…


----------



## JollyDoc

Aside from the blood-red sky and filth strewn water, where strange, scaled creatures would periodically breach, the Abyssian Ocean was not so very different from any other waters Mandi had sailed.  Convincing the crew of that, however, had been another matter entirely.  After their initial transition to the Abyss, the sailors had been ready to mutiny.  After Mandi adroitly pointed out to them that only she could activate the wakeportal, and what their fate would be if they sailed off blindly across the alien landscape, they eventually came to see reason…or at least to accept their fate with resignation.  Shortly after their arrival, Mandi had charted a course for Gaping Maw…the layer of the Abyss ruled by the Prince of Demons, Demogorgon.  It stood to reason that if Vanthus took Lavinia anywhere, it would be to his master.  Distances were meaningless on the Abyssian sea.  Mandi only knew that it would take several days to reach the Maw’s Teeth, the point where the endless ocean touched the border of Demogorgon’s domain.  She had no idea what they might encounter on their voyage, but she had taken numerous precautions, not the least of which was imbuing herself with the ability to detect approaching vessels within twenty miles of their location.

So it was, near the end of their first day under sail that she sensed the presence of a large caravel directly along their path of travel.  She alerted her comrades and prepared to take the ship beneath the waves, encased in a large bubble of air at the first sign of trouble.  When the unknown vessel finally appeared on the horizon, Mandi’s divination told her that it was called the Sapphire Griffon, and that it hailed from no one home port.  The flag it flew was a mercantile banner, so she ordered the Wyvern to slow its course and allow the other ship to approach.  Soon, it was close enough for her to make out its sleek lines and transparent sails, and the fact that it left no wake as it skimmed across the water.  Several red-skinned humanoids bustled about on deck and in the rigging, while five nine-foot tall, blue-skinned giants gathered at the rail and hailed the Wyvern.  Mercanes.  Mandi had studied them…planar merchants, whose travels knew no borders.  They were neutral in their outlook, never interfering in the politics of the planes they visited, but instead simply plying their wares…and information.

The Sapphire Griffon came alongside the Sea Wyvern, and ropes were cast between the two ships, tying them together, while long planks were lowered as walkways.  Mandi and the rest of the Legionnaires crossed to the merchant vessel and greeted the mercanes, who bowed low.  The ship’s main deck was set up like a marketplace, with several booths and stalls displaying a wide variety of exotic goods.  The red-skinned crew, on closer examination, also sported small, vestigial horns on their heads…tieflings.  
“Greetings, fellow travelers,” one of the merchants said as he came forward.  “I am Lothar.  We are pleased and honored to have the opportunity to engage in commerce with you.”
“We are not particularly interested in your merchandise,” Mandi said, drawing a curious look from the mercanes.  “It is information that we seek.”
“Ah!”  Lothar replied.  “That to is our stock-in-trade…but it comes with a price.”
“Understood,” Mandi nodded.  “We will ask our questions, and you name your price.”
“Ask,” Lothar said.
“We’re looking for a ship called the Crimson Scar,” Sepoto said, stepping forward.  “It’s captained by an undead warrior by the name of Vanthus Vanderboren.”
Lothar nodded, then turned to confer with his associates.  After a few moments, he turned back, smiling. 
“We offer this information at the price of one-thousand gold coins.”
“Agreed,” Mandi replied.
“The Crimson Scar did indeed sail these waters recently.  It made for Lemoriax, but did not stay long.  It was last reported to be on course for Divided’s Ire.”
“Where is Lemoriax?”  Tower Cleaver asked.
“What is Divided’s Ire?”  Sepoto asked simultaneously.
Lothar smiled broadly.  “The answers to those questions were not calculated in our original price.  Each will require another thousand gold coins.”
“Who needs pirates when we’ve got these guys?”  Sepoto shouted, outraged, but Mandi held up a warning hand.
“Agreed,” she said simply.
Lothar nodded again.  “Lemoriax is the capitol city of Demogorgon’s domain.  As for Divided’s Ire, it was once a pleasure palace of Demogorgon’s in Gaping Maw, but it is now a notorious prison.”
“Prison?”  Mandi asked.  “What sort of creatures are imprisoned there?”
At Lothar’s knowing smile, the sorceress produced another bag of coins.  
“The Prince of Demons was never too particular about who or what he sealed up in his grand prison.  Over time, it has come to hold all sorts of creatures, including mortals, celestials, and agents of rival demon lords and archdevils.”
Mandi considered this, then nodded, and turned to leave.
“We thank you for your help,” she said over her shoulder.
“An honor,” Lothar answered, “and if you should ever have further need of our services, you may Send to me directly, and we shall come.  Just one other thing before you leave…”
Mandi turned back, eyes narrowing.
“It’s just this,” Lothar said, clasping his hands, “As I said, we deal in information, and it may be that we could encounter others asking about a ship such as yours, and passengers such as yourselves.  Per our code, we would be willing to part with that information…for the right price.”
“I see,” Mandi said, dryly, “and what would the price of your silence be?”
“One thousand gold coins,” Lothar replied.
“Agreed,” said Mandi.


----------



## JollyDoc

‘Two ships in as many days,’ Mandi thought to herself as a silent ‘ping’ sounded in her head.  ‘The Abyssal seas are busier that I had expected.’
The crew had settled into an uneasy peace with their situation, seeing as how they had not immediately been devoured by demons, as most had expected, and their first encounter with the locals had been peaceful and profitable.  Still, Mandi had a wary feeling about the vessel which was currently on an intercept course with their own, especially when it was not visible at a point where she guessed it to be no more than half a mile from them.  It was not until the craft was within a thousand yards that she first spotted it.  It had a very low waterline, making it difficult to see from long distance.  At its center flickered a bright light, like that of a bonfire.  As it drew nearer still, Mandi was revolted to see that it was actually an enormous clot of blood and meat stretched over a bony frame.  A cage of dark iron rocked about at its center, inside of which howled what appeared to be a twisted angel shrouded in tongues of fire.  The creature reached a thin hand out from between the bars of the cage and screamed for help over and over again.  A terrified murmur went through the crew as the grotesque coracle bumped up against the hull of the Sea Wyvern.  As it did so, the surface of the clot began to bulge in two places as a pair of immense, purple horrors tore themselves free, rearing back and shrieking with rage.  They were ogre-sized humanoids, with thick, scaly hides and four arms.  Their faces were wolf-like with glowing eyes and large teeth.  

As the blood fiends prepared to leap for the Sea Wyvern, Gregor cupped his hands above him and called down a column of holy fire upon the nearest demon.  Though its flesh was scorched and smoking in places, the fiend still leapt with surprising agility.  As it crouched on the foc’s’le, its brow furrowed, and Mandi knew that it was preparing to unleash some unholy magic of its own.  With a second’s thought, she hurled a thin, green beam of energy at the demon, and when it struck, the creature evaporated into a cloud of smoke which quickly streamed back into the substance of the floating clot.  A split-second later, the second demon landed on the main deck, and this time there was nothing Mandi could do to stop it from calling upon its own magic.  A wave of blasphemous  power washed over the ship, instantly bringing all of the Legionnaires, save Mandi, to their knees.  Fortunately, the crew had very sensibly retreated below decks when the demons appeared, or Mandi knew every one of them would have been dead.    Thinking its prey to be easy kills, the demon leaped for Sepoto, but with a surge of willpower, the crusader shook himself free of his stupor and met the fiend’s attack head-on.  His chain ripped across the creature’s torso, flaying the skin from its chest as it was knocked back several feet.  A moment later and Octurus was there, pouncing on the demon like a hunting cat and impaling it through the throat with both scimitars.  With a wail, the second fiend’s body turned misty and insubstantial before drifting back towards the coracle.

Throughout the battle, the prisoner in the cage had continued to shriek for help.  Mandi lowered herself over the side of the Wyvern to the spongy surface of the coracle.  The ‘angel’ was tall and emaciated with blood-red skin and bony, white, vestigial wings.  Its body was sheathed with fire that changed color constantly.  
“Tell me your name, demon,” Mandi commanded, “for I know you for what you are.”
The creature cringed, but still reached out imploringly towards the sorceress.  “I am Azael,” it said, “and I beg you to free me!  I am your humble servant!”
“Why are you imprisoned?”  Mandi asked.
“I have angered my former master,” Azael replied.  “Those blood fiends were to deliver me to Thanatos.  Your rescue has spared me from an awful fate!”
“Whom do you serve?”  Mandi pressed.
“Orcus,” Azael said softly, “Lord of Thanatos and Prince of Undeath…although I should add that I was an unwilling conscript in his service.  He can be violently persuasive, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
“It would seem unwise to anger such a powerful master,” Mandi said grimly.  “What exactly did you do?”
“I was to spy on Demogorgon,” Azael sniveled, “and learn something of his current plots.  Alas, I am a poor spy and was found out.  My cover blown, I did the only thing I could…I fled!”
“It seems you were no better at escaping than you were at spying,” Mandi chuckled mirthlessly.  “What did you discover before you were found out?”
“Not enough, given my current predicament,” Azael said, eyes downcast.  “Why do you ask?  Are you somehow involved with the shadow pearls?”
Mandi’s eyes narrowed.   “What do you know of them?”
Azael grinned.  “Mistress, you are so coy!  But I can play along!  I know very little, of course, but I do believe the Prince of Demons intends to use the energies they unleash to spread madness and savagery throughout the Material Plane, though I know not why.”
“It seems our goals match those of your master,” Mandi murmured.
“Yes!  Yes!”  Azael said, nodding vigorously.  “I can help you, then!”
“Perhaps you can at that,” Mandi said, tapping her chin with one finger.  “What do you know about Divided’s Ire?”
“Demogorgon’s prison,” Azael said, fear in his voice.  “Has he taken someone dear from you?  I would advise against visiting the Ire, of course.  Dangerous place, that.  You’ll need a guide, naturally.  I’ll be happy to lead you there, friends.  If you are opposed to Demogorgon, assisting you can only help me to regain my place in Orcus’s favor.  Orcus despises Demogorgon, and anything that would vex the Sibilant Beast is pleasing to my former master.  You must hurry and free me, however!  The blood fiends are not destroyed!  They will regenerate soon!”
“Sort of like demonic vampires?”  Mandi asked.
Azael nodded.  “Just like that!”
“And if you’re still here when they revive, they’ll take you before Orcus?”
Azael nodded again, terror in his eyes.
“Excellent!”  Mandi said, clapping her hands.  “Then I have a message for your former master.”  She pulled quill and parchment from her belt and began scribing a letter.  When she finished, she sealed it and placed it on the surface of the clot, just beyond Azael’s reach.  
“Be a dear, and deliver this to your liege, with my deepest regards.”
As she turned and reboarded the Sea Wyvern, ordering it under full sail, she could still hear Azael’s screams echoing behind her for several minutes.


----------



## JollyDoc

The border between the Abyssian Ocean and Gaping Maw was a violent, storm-wracked area known as the Maw’s Teeth.  As the Sea Wyvern neared the transition point, the seas turned rough and the sky darkened to black.  Hundreds of water spouts danced and writhed ahead, and the crew quailed in fear.
“We’ll never make it through that!”  Urol squeaked as Mandi set their heading directly into the Teeth.  
“You forget to whom you speak,” Mandi said, haughtily.  “I am no mere sea dog.  I am a sailor on the Seas of Fate, and I have more than just maps and star charts at my disposal.  Do not fear, good gnome.  I will see you through this safely, but once we reach the shores of Gaping Maw, I promise nothing.”

The rain and wind came at them in sheets as the Sea Wyvern traveled a serpentine course among the brutal, spinning columns of water.  Though the journey was harrowing, and on more than one occasion it seemed as if the ship would be swamped or capsized, Mandi’s excellent navigational skills brought them all through to the relatively calm waters of Gaping Maw, which lay on the far side of the Teeth.  Once there, using the coordinates provided to her by the mercanes, Mandi plotted a course for Divided’s Ire, which, if her calculations were correct, lay less than a day’s sail time.

When they finally spied the Demogorgon’s island prison, they saw that it was actually two islands.  The eastern-most offered many places for a ship to moor, in the form of coves and deep water inlets.  Its surface was lush and verdant with wild jungle growth, though the winged creatures that circled above the misty canopy looked anything but inviting.  The western island, in contrast, was utterly barren, little more than a naked rock pierced with vents that spewed toxic gas and steam into the air, covering the place in a thick, poisonous fog.  The top of the island was a fiery wound, a caldera that hemorrhaged lava which formed a river that spilled down to the sea, throwing up plumes of caustic steam.  Straddling the peaks of the two islands were three massive buildings, connected by a series of bridges.  The eastern structure was the largest, though in worst shape, structurally, while to the west were two large buildings on either side of the caldera.  Between the eastern and western structures was a drop that descended almost two-thousand feet to the sea below, a gap that left an impossibly thin cliff face along the eastern side of the volcano.  Crossing this gap were two massive bridges.  A fourth, and final structure stood on a small island in the middle of the lava flow.

“There’s a ship nearby, anchored on the far side of the eastern island,” Mandi announced as they drew near.  “I can sense it.”
“Do you think it’s the Scar?”  Sepoto asked.
“Likely, especially since I detect no other vessels within twenty miles,” Mandi replied.  Ordering the helmsman to alter course, she directed the Wyvern around the southeast peninsula of the isle.  In a small cove on the far side they saw a large caravel moored in a lagoon…the Crimson Scar.  It appeared abandoned.  Nothing moved on its decks, and its sails hung in tatters.  Mandi pressed her fingers to her temples and began the words to an incantation.
‘Lavinia,’ she Sent telepathically, ‘we are at the prison on the Abyss.  Where does Vanthus hold you?  We will rescue you at all costs!’
After several moments, she heard a faint reply in her mind.
‘I am in Divided’s Ire,’ came Lavinia’s voice.  ‘I’m no longer held by Vanthus.  I was taken by a rival.  I don’t know my exact location.  Come quickly!’

A thorough search of the Crimson Scar showed it to be unmanned and completely picked clean.  Even its wakeportal was missing.
“Scuttle it,” Mandi commanded the crew of the Wyvern.  “We’re going ahead to the prison.  Wait here until our return.  If we do not return, may whatever gods you hold dear have mercy upon your souls.”


----------



## JollyDoc

“So…what now?”  Gregor asked, looking around at the flat, featureless expanse of roof that Mandi had transported them to.  They were atop the easternmost building of Divided’s Ire, with the western part obscured from view by the clouds of smoke and ash constantly belching forth from the caldera.  High above them, winged shapes whirled and circled.  It had been the sorceress’s hope that they might find an unassuming entrance into the prison from the rooftop, but it appeared they were not to be so fortunate.
“Plan B,” she shrugged as she held her hand palm down towards the stone.  A beam of emerald energy flared forth, evaporating a ten-by-ten hole in the prison roof.
“Haven’t you people ever heard of stealth?” the druid snapped, throwing his hands up.
Sepoto smiled.  “Of course we have, but we’ve found, over time, that the direct approach is so much more…entertaining.”

Looking down through the makeshift entrance, they saw below them a large, open expanse of cracked stone.  To the north and west, two free-standing structures occupied the middle of the area.  The nearest rose to a height twenty feet above the floor, with its entrance running from floor to ceiling.  The further structure was forty-feet square.  Its south face had a twenty-foot wide opening.  Near its base were mounds of stinking offal mixed with feathers and bits of bone.  Nothing living moved below, and so Octurus and Tower Cleaver leaped down the twenty-foot drop, the Maztican landing nimbly in a crouch, while the minotaur’s mass shook the floor around him, and added a few more cracks to the maze already there.  Sepoto and Mandi drifted slowly to the ground via magical flight, while Gregor assumed the form of a great condor, shifting back to his true form as he alighted.  That left only Daelric.  The priest had been waiting for this moment, and he smiled at the startled looks on the faces of his companions as he unfurled a pair of beautiful, white feathered wings from beneath his cloak and soared down to meet them.  The Traveler was well pleased with His favored one, and Daelric had seen in a dream that he was to be honored with the consummate token of Shaundekal’s pleasure.  When he had awoken the next morning, the wings had simply sprung wholly made from his shoulders.  This day, however, his joy was short-lived as he saw a half-dozen or more similarly winged forms erupt from the far building.  Their entire bodies were covered with feathers, except for their taloned feet and claws, and their vulture-like raptor beaks.  

“Vrocks!”  Mandi swore, and enough of them to perform their much-feared Dance of Ruin twice over, if given the chance.  Not if she could help it.  Guttural words spilled from her mouth as she gestured towards the advancing flock.  Simultaneously, all eight of the demons grabbed their heads as their minds became filled with a stunning cacophony of maddening whispers.  Each of them plummeted to the floor, folding themselves into fetal balls and keening pitifully.
“Easy enough,” Mandi announced.  “They’re all yours boys!”
Just then, Gregor pulled on the sleeve of her robe.  “Yes, but what about that?”
He gestured towards the near building, where a huge creature was lumbering into view from around the corner.  It bore the aspect of Demogorgon, but was obviously carved out of blackest obsidian.  Mandi’s eyes widened.  The last time she had seen such a construct was in the lair of the bar-lgura on the Isle of Dread.  It was a Lemorian golem, but easily twice the size of the one that had killed Samson.
_______________________________________________________

S’Sharra looked up from her meditation as the diminutive quasit fluttered to her shoulder.
“What is it, my pet?” she asked, stroking the little demon’s head.  “Visitors?  Yes, I suspected as much.”
At that moment she heard the battle cry of the vrock sentries suddenly turn to shrieks of pain and agony.  Creeping quietly to the shadows of the doorway, she peered out at the battle raging beyond.  Just then, the patrolling Lemorian golem trundled past her, and she smiled.  This was going to be fun.
____________________________________________________

“Octurus, Cleaver, follow me!”  Sepoto cried, rushing towards the fallen vrocks.  Though the golem was the more imminent threat, he knew that Mandi’s spell would not hold for long, and the last thing they needed was to be surrounded, fighting a battle on two fronts.  He was confident that Mandi and Gregor could hold off the construct for just a few moments.  The three warriors fell upon the stupefied demons like jackals, hacking and slashing at them as they lay helpless. 

“Allow me,” Gregor said, stepping in front of Mandi as she prepared to cast a spell.  Raising one hand above his head, he brought it violently down as he uttered his incantation.  From out of thin air, a deadfall of rocks and logs appeared above the golem, crashing to the floor and burying it beneath the avalanche.  
“Well done,” Mandi nodded approvingly, “but…”  Her words trailed off as she felt magic crackle around her.  In an eye-blink, she sensed several of her protective wards stripped from her, including her telepathic link to the crew of the Sea Wyvern.  There was someone else present…someone far more dangerous than the vrock minions or the golem.  
“Ware!” she cried, as she dabbed a bit of ointment on her eyes and spoke a word.  Instantly, her surroundings leaped into crisp focus, allowing her to see even the now-invisible form of Daelric hovering nearby.  Even so, she could spot no one else concealed on the battlefield.  
“Daelric!” she called.  “Purge this area!  Now!”
Daelric cursed to himself.  He hated doing that, knowing full well that his own concealment would be revealed by the ward, but he did not question, instead speaking the words to the prayer.  Yet, even as he faded into view, he saw no similar manifestation of their hidden foe.
_______________________________________________________

S’Sharra watched the massacre, her expression grim.  The vrocks were slaughtered one-by-one by the warriors, while the golem, when it tried to rise from the debris, was similarly cut down by fire from the elf witch.  Ah well, she mused.  There would be another opportunity.  Melting back into the shadows, she called the quasit to her and vanished.


----------



## JollyDoc

EPILOGUE:

_Prince of the Undead,

After listening to your sniveling 'spy' beg me to free him from whatever fate you have in store, I have become aware that our goals coincide with one another.  We know what the Prince of Demons plans for the Shadow Pearls.  We know the power he hopes to accumulate by their detonation.  We know that the Abyss, and undoubtedly the multiverse, cannot stand for this to occur.

As a rule I do not believe in rewarding failure with mercy, so I did not heed your servant's desperate request.  His escorts did, however, set upon us and had to be incapacitated as a result.  They were not, though, destroyed.  In time, they will leave their torpor and continue their journey to Thanatos, where it is my hope this message finds you.  

I am an archmage of great power.  My comrades, likewise, are highly skilled and can each be equally powerful weapons in our shared struggle against Demogorgon.  True, we are but mortals, but we can act somewhat less noticeably than those of near-godlike power such as yourself.  Currently, we find ourselves on the Abyssian Ocean tracking one of Demogorgon's lesser servants, but once we have destroyed that wretched piece of filth our attention shall be turned to the master and his plans for a Savage Tide.

My name is Ozymandia Enoreth.  I give you this information at the risk of exposing myself to great harm at your hands and those of your servants.  I believe, however, that I would be of much greater use to you as a living ally than a dead enemy.
_ 
Orcus folded the missive in his massive hands, a look of contemplation upon his goat-like features.  The wheels were in motion, and events would begin to unfold very rapidly from this point.  Things were going to be very interesting, and he might indeed need allies in the coming war.  He had much to think about, and even the idle distraction of Azael being flayed alive before him could not lift the seed of worry that had crept into his mind.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Masterpiece, JollyDoc. 

And kudos to the Legion for their game. Mandi is the worthy follower of Anwar. Let's see, if putting themselves on Orcus' map was a wise move.


----------



## JollyDoc

It still remains to be seen if the Legion will survive Divided's Ire...

*Sunday Night Teaser*

1)  The Legion stumbles across some of the prisoners of Demogorgon's dungeon, and even go so far as to try and free one noble soul, only to find some souls are beyond redemption.

2)  A tussle with some of the prison guards turns nasty when Tower Cleaver is sickened by what he encounters, and our mysterious red-skinned woman shows up again to throw a wrench into the works.

3)  The Legion meets the warden of Divided's Ire, and someone finds out the hard way that having all of your blood vessels ripped from your body will ruin your day.

4)  As the group takes the bridge across the caldera, another group of guards takes issue with their 'escape attempt.'  In the ensuing dust-up, all three of the Legion's melee brutes are rendered essentially ineffective, leaving it up to the spell slingers to do the grunt work.  Yes, even Daelric is forced to get his hands dirty!  The battle ends on a cliffhanger, and it's anybody's guess on how this one will end...


----------



## Zurai

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 3)  The Legion comes meets the warden of Divided's Ire, and someone finds out the hard way that having all of your blood vessels ripped from your body will ruin your day.




_Avasculate_ is such a gory spell. Fun, though. For the caster. Or was it _avascular mass_? That one's fun for _everyone_!


----------



## JollyDoc

Zurai said:
			
		

> _Avasculate_ is such a gory spell. Fun, though. For the caster. Or was it _avascular mass_? That one's fun for _everyone_!





It was, indeed, avascular mass!  A lovely visual, for those not familiar with the spell (BoVD).


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> It still remains to be seen if the Legion will survive Divided's Ire...
> 
> 4)  As the group takes the bridge across the caldera, another group of guards takes issue with their 'escape attempt.'  In the ensuing dust-up, all three of the Legion's melee brutes are rendered essentially ineffective, leaving it up to the spell slingers to do the grunt work.  Yes, even Daelric is forced to get his hands dirty!  The battle ends on a cliffhanger, and it's anybody's guess on how this one will end...



I was thinking there are plenty of opportunities for TPKs in the following modules, but at this particular place? Was it surprise and bad dice rolling or something else?


----------



## Joachim

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> I was thinking there are plenty of opportunities for TPKs in the following modules, but at this particular place? Was it surprise and bad dice rolling or something else?




Terrain, and _Greater Dispel Magic_.  And _Energy Drain_ sucks versus spellcasters.

BTW, _Avascular Mass_ comes from the Spell Compendium.


----------



## Supar

God you know how daelric hates getting his hands dirty its just not right...... Now they are going to look for me to actually start killing stuff   i have a Tower Cleaver for these things


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Supar said:
			
		

> Now they are going to look for me to actually start killing stuff   i have a Tower Cleaver for these things



Yeah, everyone should have one of those...


----------



## JollyDoc

PRISON BREAK

Beyond the building where the vrocks had roosted, the Legion found themselves in a massive chamber with a gaping hole in the north wall, obviously leading outside to the steaming jungle.  The open area was strewn with debris and the floor was riddled with cracks connecting to a great rent running the length of the chamber.  On the near side of the chasm stood a hastily constructed wall composed of rubble, old flagstones, and rotting body parts.  Faces stared out of the stones and wasted hands stuck out as if in greeting.  The wall rose some twenty feet before terminating in a row of much-abused heads on spikes that were alive with twitching and scuttling roaches.
“Lovely décor,” Sepoto grumbled.  
The company threaded their way through a narrow opening in the wall, and then cautiously started across the debris field, skirting the chasm.  Their way was dimly lit by skull-shaped iron lanterns that shed faint fiery light at sporadic intervals along the walls.

On its far side, the chamber gave onto a long, shadowy corridor, running north to south.  Directly across it, a large door stood padlocked.  From the darkness further down the hall came the constant clinking of chains, punctuated by a cacophony of moans, screams, wails and mad giggling.  Mandi nodded towards the door, and Tower Cleaver stepped forward and smashed it in with a single blow from his axe.  The stench from the room beyond was staggering.  Clearly it was a torture chamber, based on the row of iron maidens, racks, screws and an assortment of other sinister devices.  Pools of blood and fluid covered the floor.  The walls, and even the ceiling, bore splatters of dripping gore.  Most of the equipment was empty, but a few devices held remains of past victims, bodies shuddering with the vermin feasting on the rotten flesh.
“If Lavinia is somewhere in this place,” Sepoto said, “I’m not sure if she’d be better off dead than alive.”
“If she’s come to any harm,” Mandi said in a low voice, “Vanthus Vanderboren will pray for the tender mercies of Demogorgon when I’m done with him.”
“What do you make of this?”  Octurus called abruptly from a far corner of the room where he crouched.  Mandi walked over and saw that the Maztican had found a severed pair of large, feathery, white wings.
“They’re angelic,” the sorceress observed quietly.  “Deva, unless I miss my guess.”
Daelric shuddered, unconsciously folding his own pinions closer to his body.

Sepoto led the group from the chamber of horrors and back out into the corridor.  They hadn’t proceeded far when the source of the din became all-too apparent.  As far as the eye could see was row upon row of cells.  Each consisted of a twenty-foot cube suspended one foot from the floor by a thick adamantine chain that hung from the ceiling.  Each cage was also chained to adjacent cells and the floor as well.  The vast majority were occupied.  Demons, devils, illithids, skeletal liches and decaying mummies huddled within, some rocking back and forth, muttering to themselves, while others rattled their bars, screaming epithets at the Legionnaires, or wailed piteously for release.
“Curious,” Mandi said, tentatively reaching out a hand towards one of the cells before quickly snatching it back.  “They’re warded with antimagic.  It’s preventing the occupants from using their innate powers to escape.  Ingenious!”
“Mandi!”  Sepoto called, interrupting her reverie.  “There’s something you should see here.”
The cage that the goliath stood before contained a bald, green-skinned figure in soiled, white robes.  Beautiful, feathered wings arched from his back, and his eyes glowed silver as he regarded his observers forlornly.
Mandi quirked her mouth, hiding a smirk.  “And what, pray tell, has brought one such as you to such a low and wretched state, archon?” she asked.  
The celestial lowered his eyes and sighed deeply.  “I have been prisoner here for untold decades,” he replied in a musical voice.  “I was taken captive during the assault on Occipitus.  Adimarchus, the lord of that domain, gave me over to the Demon Prince, and here I have languished ever since.”
Mandi gestured to Tower Cleaver, and the minotaur went to work on the sturdy cell door, smashing it to rubble, though it took him several attempts.
“Well, let it not be said in the Heavens that Ozymandia Enoreth played any role in the suffering of a noble spirit.  Go.  You are free.”
The archon looked dispiritedly at the open gate and shook his head, wrapping his wings around his knees.  “No, my doom is here.  I’m no longer worthy of my home.  Leave me in peace.”  
He turned his back to them then, squaring his shoulders.  Mandi gazed at him for a long moment before shrugging.
“Suit yourself, friend, but be warned:  your new home many not be standing much longer if we have anything to say about it.”
_________________________________________________________

After traversing the maze of cell cages, the company found themselves at one end of a massive, forty-foot wide corridor, pierced on either side by a number of side passages made by the gaps between the gently swaying cells.  In a row along the center of the corridor rose four, twelve-foot tall iron statues of armored demonic warriors.  Braziers spewing smokeless green flames hung from the ceiling between the statues shedding a sickly light.  Strolling down the middle of the hall were eight large, frog-like demons, laughing among themselves as they tormented the prisoners in the cages they passed.  Abruptly, they caught sight of the Legionnaires and stopped dead in their tracks, staring as if they couldn’t quite comprehend what they were seeing.  Then, evil grins began to split their leering faces and they crouched low, claws flexing in anticipation of tearing into the flesh of what they assumed were escapees.  

“Ready?”  Sepoto asked, turning to Octurus and Tower Cleaver.  The Maztican nodded while the minotaur merely snorted and began stalking towards the approaching demons.  Cleaver hefted his axe as he closed within a few paces of the lead hezrou, but at that moment, a gut-wrenching stench assailed his sensitive nostrils, wafting in a noxious cloud from the disgusting fiends.  Involuntarily, Cleaver’s four stomachs clenched simultaneously and he began to heave violently, spewing emesis on the floor before him as he collapsed to one knee.  Behind him, Sepoto cursed.  The miasmic aroma assailed him as well, but he managed to swallow his rising gorge and surged forward.  As his chain whipped out and struck the first hezrou, a flash of white energy exploded from the weapon, buffeting the rest of the demon’s in a cascading fusillade of power.  The hezrous fell back a pace, but then, as they shook off the effects of the crusader’s blow, several of them focused their own energy, striking at the helpless Tower Cleaver with chaotic hammer blows of multi-colored energy that pummeled the minotaur to both knees.
Sepoto prepared to retaliate, but as he did so, he caught a flicker of movement from one of the side passages behind the hezrous.  It was the same red-skinned woman that had harassed them as they battled the vrocks.  As he turned towards her, however, she ducked back into the shadows and he lost sight of her.
“We’ve got company again!” he shouted.  “The demon-bitch is back, but I can’t see her.  Daelric, any help?”
“In a second,” the priest replied.  “I’ve got my hands full right now!”  Concentrating on Cleaver, Daelric spoke a quick prayer, and immediately the minotaur’s gastric distress subsided.  Snorting in rage, the barbarian surged to his feet.
“Now then,” Daelric said, turning towards Sepoto and weaving another minor miracle about the crusader.  “Just close your eyes,” he instructed the goliath, “and all will be made clear.”
Sepoto did so, and found that he could still see, although his ‘vision’ was more akin to that of a bat, perceiving sounds as images rather than light.  Dodging through the pack of hezrous, he ran towards the side passage and peered down it.  Sure enough, the woman was there, crouched among the thick shadows.  When she saw him, she smiled, baring finely pointed teeth, and sketched a small bow.
“Another time then, warrior,” S’Sharra laughed, and promptly vanished.

Meanwhile, Octurus and Cleaver had positioned themselves back-to-back among the surrounding hezrous, and despite being bombarded again and again by the Abyssal power of the demons, the two warriors began to quickly even the odds.  Great swings from Cleaver’s axe, hacking through two or three of the demons at a time, where matched by flurries of precision swordsmanship on the part of the demon hunter.  In short order, the dead fiends lay stacked like cordwood around the lethal duo, while Mandi looked on in feigned boredom.  Two more unseen observers watched as well from among the shadows atop the pillars.  As the last of the hezrou fell, the skulkers vanished without a sound.  Their master must be warned.
____________________________________________________________

Kululblax snarled as the two babau demons informed him of what had transpired in the corridor outside his chambers.  The glabrezu had known it would only be a matter of time before Demogorgon sent his minions to check up on how well the warden had been maintaining the prison.  By now, they had surely seen the sorry state to which he had let Divided’s Ire fall, and no doubt intended to deliver their summary judgment upon him as they had his guards.  This was all that whore S’Sharra’s doing, he thought.  She’d been spying on him from the day she’d arrived, and now she’d brought the Prince of Demon’s wrath down upon him.  Snarling again in rage he closed one of his massive pincer-like claws around the neck of the hapless eladrin he held in his grip and pinched off its head as the door to his quarters was suddenly slammed open.  

“You will not take my prison!” the massive glabrezu screamed at the intruders.  “I know you are working for her!”
“If by ‘her’ you mean me,” Mandi said, stepping in front of Tower Cleaver, “then you’re right.  They do work for me, and I work for Lavinia Vanderboren.  If you’re holding her here, you would be wise to give her into my custody while you are still able.”
Kululblax screamed in rage, hurling the body of his latest victim to the floor as he drew two large axes from his belt.
“I’ll take that as a negative,” Mandi nodded, then flung out her hands and made a clawing, tearing motion with them as she spat out the words to a vile incantation.  Kululblax felt a sudden, wrenching agony grip him, and before his eyes, the blood vessels in his body exploded out of him in a gory, spraying mass.  The vasculature collapsed at his feet, still attached to his body in a web-like mesh, tangling his feet with their viscosity and rooting him in place.

“That’s just…gross,” Sepoto said in disgust as he moved into the room.  “Whoops!” he exclaimed, as his still-enhanced vision picked out the two babaus crouched on either side of the door.  “Missed those.”
With a blur of motion, he swung his axe across the neck of the nearest demon, snapping it with a satisfying crack.  Once he pointed out the location of the second, Octurus made quick work of that one as well.  Then both stood aside as Tower Cleaver strode purposefully towards the demon enmeshed in his own entrails.  

Kululblax saw his death approaching, but he was by no means going to succumb without a fight.  As the minion of Baphamet came closer, the glabrezu summoned his own magic, reversing the pull of gravity beneath Cleaver’s feet, causing the minotaur to ‘fall’ towards the ceiling, where he struck several jagged spikes placed there for just that purpose.  Momentarily confused, Cleaver climbed to his feet, finding himself standing on the ceiling and now literally eye-to-eye with the glabrezu.  Not liking being made to feel foolish, the barbarian deftly caught a flurry of swings from Kululblax’s axes on the haft and blade of his own, then just as quickly countered, swinging savagely at the demon’s neck and head.  Kululblax never had a chance.  As the final blow fell, he collapsed atop his innards, the veritable ‘cherry on top’ of the gruesome tableau.
______________________________________________________________

An inspection of all the cellblocks turned up fruitless.  It was too much to hope that Lavinia would be found so easily.  The entire eastern portion of Divided’s Ire seemed designed to hold the rank-and-file prisoners, which meant, to Mandi’s thinking, that the more important, or dangerous ones would be found on the far side of the caldera.

A massive pair of doors in the corridor beyond Kululblax’s chambers led outside.  Stretching across the gap between the islands was a wide stone bridge, old and riddled with cracks and fractures.  At intervals on either side stood stone statues of robed women, their hands extended down to the sea as if beseeching someone for help.  Their eyes dripped blood.  
“I don’t trust the sturdiness of that span,” Sepoto remarked, looking dubiously at the worn architecture of the bridge.
“It’s stood for centuries, no doubt,” Mandi said with a shrug, “and it’s likely to last a few more minutes, but if it will ease your mind, we can all fly across.”
The others nodded in agreement, and each prepared their own modes of locomotion:  Mandi uttered a brief spell, and a pair of bat-like wings sprouted from her back; Daelric unfurled his own feathery pinions; Gregor’s body morphed into the large condor that was his form of choice for flight; and Sepoto, Tower Cleaver and Octurus each quaffed an elixir, and then rose several feet above the cracked pavings.

They had traversed no more than fifty feet of the span, the air around them filled with smoke and ash, the roar of the volcano and the sea far below filling their ears, when Octurus stopped dead, his head cocked and listening.  For a brief moment the sharp-eared Maztican had thought he’d heard the flapping of wings, and not just those of his comrades.  As he turned from side to side, scanning the gloom, he spied several shadowy shapes moving through the haze.  Before he could open his mouth to warn his companions, the demons swooped in.  They were lanky creatures with leathery wings, gargoyle-like heads with glowing yellow eyes and great mouths filled with fangs, and tough, weathered black and gray skins.  Octurus put name to them only because he’d seen Mandi assume similar forms on multiple occasions…nabassus.

“Watch out!” he cried as he leaped over the edge of the bridge, the tiger tattoo on his bicep roaring to life.  Like a great cat himself, he dove towards the nearest demon, pouncing upon it with both blades.  The nabassu was horribly fast, however, faster than Octurus had ever seen a creature move.  Its claws a blur, it dodged, blocked and parried his best blows, all save one, and even as that thrust sank home, the demon hunter was dismayed to see the wound rapidly begin to close.  Pushing itself away from the Maztican, the nabassu grinned evilly, looked down at the gulf below them and waggled a cautionary finger.  With the barest of mental efforts, it conjured a dispelling field around Octurus.  In an instant, the dweomer that allowed him to fly vanished, and he began to fall.

Mandi knew all-too-well what nabassus were capable of.  That was why she’d chosen to wear their form so often.  One of them flapped towards her, black fire crackling around its hand.  In desperation, the sorceress struck out, sending a powerful Rebuke towards the demon, power which seized its heart and stopped it instantaneously.  Silently, the fiend spiraled out of sight towards the water below.

Too late, Sepoto saw what happened to Octurus just as he himself flew out to face another of the demons.  The nabassu before him laughed wickedly and performed the same trick its brother had.  Sepoto plummeted through the mist and smoke.

Tower Cleaver looked left and right.  In a matter of seconds, his two shield brothers had been eliminated.  The minotaur knew that if he made a move towards the flying demons, his fate would be the same.  He and the remainder of his companions were surrounded, and the fiends were hurling magic at will.  Cleaver felt something he’d never felt before…helplessness.  Animal fear began to creep over him, and before he could think about what he was doing, he began to run as fast as he could across the span of the bridge, losing sight of his friends and foes quickly in the roiling smoke.

“In the name of All that is Holy, what’s happening here!?”  Daelric shouted.  Only he, Gregor and Mandi were left, and the three remaining nabassu were closing fast.
“What does it look like?” Mandi growled.  “We’re losing!  Do something if you want any hope of getting out of this alive!”
Daelric swallowed hard, gathered what courage he could muster and focused on one of the approaching demons, praying to Shaundekal for power, and forgiveness for his past sins.  As the fiend drew nearer, the priest unleashed a bolt of blinding, glorious white light.  The nabassu shrieked as its flesh burned and blistered.  Hissing and spitting as it clawed at its wounds, it retaliated with its own magic.  The area surrounding Daelric, Gregor and Mandi went as silent as a tomb, preventing the spellcasters from speaking their words to their prayers and incantations.  

Tower Cleaver saw the end of the bridge looming ahead, and a second pair of doors leading into the building beyond.  As he drew near, however, a large form loomed up directly in front of him.  It looked like a large gargoyle, with powerful wings and thick, green skin.  It had four powerful arms and a vaguely canine head with horns and small, webbed ears.  
“Going somewhere, big fella?” the demon leered, brandishing a large axe gripped in two of its hands.

Daelric was well aware of the limitations of a Silence spell, and knew that it had definite boundaries.  He just had to keep moving until he found them.  Backpeddaling as fast as he could, he stopped when he could once more hear the roar of the caldera.  Calling on Shaundekal again, he hurled another of the searing bolts at the nabassu, and this time he was rewarded by the creature burning to cinders in mid-air.  
Meanwhile, Mandi and Gregor had also found the edges of the silent interdiction, and Mandi turned her attention towards another of the demons, forcing it to begin a mad, frantic dance, kippering and prancing like a puppet on a string.  Simultaneously, Gregor sent a lance of razor-sharp ice at the last nabassu, while Daelric blasted it with a third bolt.  The demon wavered for a moment, but then an explosive ball of fire enveloped it, cast by Mandi’s smoking hand, and its ashes drifted away to join those of the volcano.  

Just then, the pounding of hooves on the bridge drew Mandi’s attention away from the dancing demon she was preparing to finish off.  From out of the smoke came the charging form of Tower Cleaver, a huge demonic figure hot on his heels.  Mandi recognized Cleaver’s pursuer as a nycaloth, one of a powerful group of demons that sold their services to demon lords as mercenaries.  Cleaver was right to run.  However, just as the barbarian drew close to Mandi, he turned to face the nycaloth, axe raised defensively. 
“Cleaver, no!”  Mandi shouted, but it was too late.  The nycaloth drove into the minotaur like a battering ram, slamming the butt of its axe into Cleaver’s gut, then reversing it to drive the blade down upon his shoulder.  Cleaver staggered, but did not fall.  Instead, he crouched low and cut swiftly upward with his own axe, reversing it, then swinging laterally again.  Great rents opened in the nycaloth’s flesh as it roared in anger.  
“Damn it, do I have to do everything?!”  Mandi shouted, as she prepared to make short work of the demonic mercenary.
“Mandi, behind you!” came a warning shout from Daelric.  The sorceress spun, but she was a fraction of a second too slow.  The nabassu she had ensorcelled had broken free from the dance, and as she turned, a blast of black energy struck her.  She felt cold penetrate to her soul as the negative power feasted on her life force.  Worse, she felt its tendrils creep into her mind, driving the memory of her most powerful dweomers from her psyche.

Tower Cleaver took a step towards the nycaloth, but Gregor’s commanding shout stopped him.
“Leave it!” the druid barked.  “Mandi needs your help!  I’ll take care of this one!”
Cleaver hesitated for a moment, but he saw the sense of Gregor’s tactics.  As he turned away, however, the nycaloth struck again, opening a deep gash in his thigh.  Cleaver didn’t’ stop.  Limping badly, he lurched into the air towards the nabassu, knowing the he might be only seconds away from falling to his death.  The demon was too intent on Mandi, however, and did not see the charging minotaur until it was too late.  One swipe from Cleaver’s axe beheaded the fiend.

True to his word, Gregor faced the raging nycaloth and called on the power of Silvanus.  From out of thin air, a great comet of ice and rock hurtled towards the demon, burying it in an avalanche of debris.  As it tried to rise, a sizzling bolt of lightning from Mandi’s outstretched hand roasted it where it stood.
“Payback’s a bitch!” the sorceress hissed.
________________________________________________________

Far below the bridge, but still a thousand feet or more above the crashing surf, Sepoto and Octurus, separately and unseen by each other, managed to fish vials from their belt pouches and quickly quaff them, arresting their descent as new dweomers took hold.  As far as each of them knew, they were alone in the miasma of smoke and ash, with no idea of what had befallen their comrades.  Slowly, they began the long ascent back towards the bridge.
_________________________________________________________

Grishnag and Gorbag looked at each other as their brother fell to the escaped prisoners.  The three of them had been watching the battle between the mortals and the hated nabassu with amusement, but when the minotaur had fled, Yrch had been unable to restrain himself and had flown off to have some fun…and had paid for his mistake.  Now the two remaining nycaloths, by mutual agreement, decided that play time was over.  The nabassus had sufficiently thinned the numbers of the inmates and weakened those remaining.  The pickings should be easy this time.  Silently, the mercenaries took wing.
___________________________________________________________

From her hidden vantage point, S’Sharra watched the battle as well, and she to took great pleasure from the outcome.  These so-called heroes were not the threat her master thought them to be.  She felt certain that they would defeat the two stupid nycaloths, but at a price, and she would be there to collect when the final chips fell…


----------



## Joachim

I. Hate. Energy Drain.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Autsch, this had to hurt.  Still, a prison makes entries for new PCs easy and plausible.  



> Cleaver’s four stomachs clenched simultaneously



Moo


----------



## JollyDoc

*Sunday Night Teaser*

Well, well.  We had quite the eventful evening tonight...where to begin??

1)  The battle of the bridge continues when two more nycaloths join the fray, and everybody's favorite red-skinned foil makes a guest appearance.

2)  The Legion encounters yet another "warden" of the prison...one who makes them an offer that's right up their alley.

3)  During their quest to fulfill their part of the above bargain...well, to quote hockey lingo..."there's a face-off in the corner!"

4)  In the chaos that ensues afterwards, one Legionnaire dies by the hand of another.

5)  Mandi seals the deal offered by their "benefactor," but crosses paths with the owner of the severed wings the group found in the torture chamber.  

6)  Help is received from an unlikely source, and the company is finally on the right path to find Lavinia...and Vanthus.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Anwar would have enjoyed this module. Plenty of opportunity for his schemes.


----------



## Abciximab

Yeah, I miss him too. I never thought I'd enjoy a story hour with evil characters all that much, but this one is certainly an exception. The players make the difference.


----------



## JollyDoc

Abciximab said:
			
		

> Yeah, I miss him too. I never thought I'd enjoy a story hour with evil characters all that much, but this one is certainly an exception. The players make the difference.




Technically, the Legion prefers to refer to themselves as "morally ambiguous."


----------



## LordVyreth

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Technically, the Legion prefers to refer to themselves as "morally ambiguous."




Mandi might.  Anwar struck me more as the type who twirled his mustache and would engage in the occasional maniacal laughter, albeit only when alone.


----------



## JollyDoc

*ANNOUNCEMENT!!!*

Joachim, aka Richard, aka Mandi, et al, welcomed his first-born child into the world today, a son weighing 6 lbs, 9 oz.  Named after his dad, if I'm not mistaken.  Needless to say, our game this week will be cancelled, and so the update will be a few days late.  Here's to the birth of a new power gamer!!!


----------



## gfunk

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Here's to the birth of a new power gamer!!!




May his rolls always come up as nat 20's!

Congratulations!!!


----------



## Nordic Birch

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Here's to the birth of a new power gamer!!!




May all his hits be crits.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> *ANNOUNCEMENT!!!*
> 
> Joachim, aka Richard, aka Mandi, et al, welcomed his first-born child into the world today, a son weighing 6 lbs, 9 oz.  Named after his dad, if I'm not mistaken.  Needless to say, our game this week will be cancelled, and so the update will be a few days late.  Here's to the birth of a new power gamer!!!



 Congratulations !!! Enjoy this precious time, Richard. 

Have you thought about his class and character progression, yet?


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Congratulations !!! Enjoy this precious time, Richard.
> 
> Have you thought about his class and character progression, yet?





Yeah, all the best guilds and training halls fill up pretty quickly.  I hear there's like a six month waiting list...


----------



## carborundum

Wow - congrats!

May ... um ... darn, all the good ones are taken, ... may all his wishes not be messed up by the great DM.


----------



## Joachim

Thanks, guys.  We are all very excited, and we will be bringing my son home from the hospital later this morning.

If his progression is anything like mine, he is probably going to start with a few levels in Nerd, and then try to take all 10 prestige class levels in Engineer, and then top it all off with a couple levels in Archnerd.


----------



## Supar

carborundum said:
			
		

> Wow - congrats!
> 
> May ... um ... darn, all the good ones are taken, ... may all his wishes not be messed up by the great DM.



I got one

May all his saves never fail


----------



## carborundum

And all his spells beat the SR.

I think there's a poem type thing in here - blessing for a D&D baby. Along the lines of that old "May the road rise up to meet you" thingamajig.

Or we could close the door now and tiptoe away quietly


----------



## SolitonMan

Soooo...update?


----------



## JollyDoc

SolitonMan said:
			
		

> Soooo...update?




Soon...3/4 finished.  Hopefully by tomorrow.


----------



## JollyDoc

Or perhaps even tonight...

FACE-OFF

“Do you hear something?”  Gregor asked as Daelric tended the wounds of Mandi and Tower Cleaver.  
“If you mean, do I hear all the blood rushing to my head,” Mandi replied caustically, “then I do.  If you mean, have I heard Sepoto’s and Octurus’s bodies hit the ground yet, then I haven’t.”
“No…” the druid said absently, scanning the mist and smoke, “I mean, I think we’re going to have more company…soon.”
As if on cue, unnatural darkness blanketed the bridge, and the sound of wings snapping in the wind echoed all about them.  Large, shadowy forms moved within the gloom.
“There!” the druid shouted as he conjured a column of emerald fire.  In the sudden glare, Mandi saw clearly the pair of nycaloths circling round them, and before the flames had faded, she had pierced the darkness again with rippling electricity, arcing bolts between the two fiends.  Tower cleaver leaped while the lightning still sparked, splitting open the chest of the nearest, still-jittering demon.  A moment later, Daelric raised his hand to the sky, and power coalesced around it like halo.  Cocking back his arm, he hurled the energy at the remaining nycaloth, blowing it out of existence with a blast of righteous fury.
______________________________________________________________

S’Sharra crouched among the pilings of the bridge, waiting.  She knew the goliath and the demon-hunter were not dead.  She’d followed their descent and saw them arrest their falls, and now they were on their way back.  Only this time, when they fell, she would make sure it would be their final trip.  
It was the human that she saw first, rising up out of the mist to her left.  His friends had seen him too, but it wouldn’t matter.  With a gesture, she dispelled Octurus’s magic, and smiled at the stunned expression on his face as he once more plummeted towards the sea below.  Her smile quickly changed to one of grim resignation, however, when Mandi loomed out of the smoke before her.
“I was wondering when you’d turn up,” the elf bitch smirked, and then magic flashed in her hand as she struck S’Sharra with a beam of light.  Immediately, the demoness felt her arms and legs go weak and rubbery, her reflexes slowed.  
“Touché’,” the assassin said through numbed lips, “but it’s my wits you’ll have to dull if you want to catch me.”  
With that, she unfurled her wings and dropped straight down, disappearing into the fog in a flash, leaving Mandi vowing silently that their next meeting would be their last.
_________________________________________________________________

Octurus managed to save himself a second time with another well-timed draught.   He and Sepoto rejoined their comrades, bitter at having missed the battle’s finale.  Still, once Daelric had tended everyone’s wounds, they pressed on.  At the far side of the bridge they encountered another massive set of stone portals.  When Tower Cleaver pulled them open, they found themselves in a wide corridor which disappeared into shadow before them.  To their left was a plain door, but strangely, it was set into the wall ten feet above their heads.  Curious, Mandi flew up to it, but as she drew near, her nostrils were assailed by the most rancid odor she’d ever encountered.  Cautiously, she reached out and pulled the handle.  As she did so, a nightmare torrent of viscous, rancid, oozy effluvia spilled out of the room beyond in an avalanche, flowing over Mandi and raining down on her companions below, burning exposed flesh wherever its toxic fluids struck.

“Gods, I hate this place!!”  Sepoto bellowed as he stood, dripping disgusting filth, offal and rancid slime.  
“Oh, I don’t know,” a basso voice rumbled, “it grows on you after awhile.”
Farther down the hall, three immensely flabby humanoid creatures, covered in reeking slime, had emerged from an archway.  Just beyond them, two shifting masses of brown and green effluvia surged forward, and as they did so, their surfaces split open to reveal nightmare gullets that vented clouds of noxious green vapor.  Finally, beyond those two horrors, stood the speaker.  He was an immensely bloated creature, similar in form to the three nearby demons, but even more disgusting.  A thick film of grease covered his shuddering, blubbery body.  Branching out from the folds of his back fat were two leathery wings, and his gruesome head was toad-like, with pale slime spilling from his wide mouth.
“Who are you?” he asked, bubbling.  “And why are you intruding upon my domain?”
Mandi stepped forward, trying to look dignified as she brushed excrement from her gown.  
“I am Ozymandia Enoreth,” she said, drawing herself up, “and these are my colleagues.  We are called the Legion, and we have come here seeking a despicable cur named Vanthus Vanderboren.”
“A cur he is,” the fat demon laughed, “and as despicable as he is craven.  What of him?”
“Whom do I have the…pleasure of addressing?”  Mandi asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“I am Belshamoth!” the demon roared, “Lord of Divided’s Ire!”
“Divided’s Ire has many lords, it would seem,” Mandi muttered.  Aloud, she replied, “Vanthus is actually a secondary objective.  He is holding someone valuable to us…his sister, Lavinia.  Can you tell us where to find them?”
Belshamoth laughed again, “And why should I do that?  Where is the profit in it for me?”
“I assume Vanthus is not a welcome guest in your domain,” Mandi said.  “We would gladly rid you of his overstayed presence.”
Belshamoth mulled this for a moment.  “That, of course, is something I could do for myself were I so inclined.”
“Of course,” Mandi nodded, “but why trouble yourself?”
“Why indeed?”  Belshamoth snorted.  “But perhaps there is some other…small task you could do for me.  There is a certain…lady that I have set my eye upon, yet she has yet to know the fullness of my intentions or the rapture I could bring her.”
“She must be blind indeed, my lord,” Mandi smirked.
“Obviously!”  Belshamoth snapped.  “Yet I am certain she would come to appreciate me in time if I had her…undivided attention.”
“So you would like us to bring her to you?”  Mandi asked.  “What does she look like?  Where might we find her?”
“She is the most beautiful creature you have ever seen,” Belshamoth crooned, “with flowing, black tresses, and smooth skin of the most hellish shade of crimson.”
Mandi’s eyes narrowed.  “Say no more, lord,” she said coldly.  “Your lady –love will be putty in your hands.”
____________________________________________________________

When Belshamoth told them where S’Sharra’s lair was, the Legionnaires realized it was the building where they’d first encountered her when they’d entered the prison.  When they retraced their steps, however, they found no sign of the assassin, save for several dozen disgusting larvae, damned souls used as a form of currency in the Abyss, and a small shrine to Demogorgon.  It was obvious they would not find her simply by looking.  She had always come to them, and always when they were otherwise occupied.  They had to assume she would appear again at the height of their next entanglement, and so they elected to press on further into the prison.

This time, they took the second bridge across the caldera, since it lead from the entrance area where they already where.  As they neared the portals on the far side, however, they could hear a rising cacophony of shrieks and moans.  Tower Cleaver pulled open the doors, revealing an oddly shaped chamber featuring numerous open doors leading into dusty rooms.  A single pillar of iron rose up from the floor to the ceiling overhead, its surface studded with countless hooks and barbs.  Stretched over these hooks were dozens of faces, seemingly skinned from the heads of men and women and affixed inside out in an overlapping pattern of flesh over much of the pillar.  A grating, endless shriek wailed horridly from the faces, and their eyelids and lips twitched and writhed as if in horrific pain.  So intense was the noise that each of the Legionnaires grimaced in pain, instinctively clasping their hands to their ears…all save one.

Octurus found himself overcome with a mixture of sorrow and rage at the sight and sound of the pillar.  Unaware of what he was doing, he began moving towards the abomination.  Too late, Daelric, Gregor and Sepoto saw what he was doing, but he was already beyond their reach.  They could do nothing but look on in raw horror as the Maztican leaned slowly forward and pushed his own face against the pillar.  Instantly, several of the spikes animated into motion with blinding speed, flensing away Octurus’s features with the skill of some deranged surgeon.  Adding his own screams to those of the pillar, the demon-hunter drew back, his face a raw, bleeding nightmare, the musculature, sinew and blood vessels laid bare as his eyes bulged wildly, rolling in their sockets.  Again, and again he shrieked, his voice rising higher, becoming more shrill.  Instinctively, Daelric stepped towards him, seeking to ease his suffering.  In a flash Octurus’s blades were in his hands, and before the young priest could react, the Maztican’s hands were a blur of deadly steel.  Daelric staggered back from the assault, blood pouring down his tunic, his lips going pale.  He stumbled into Sepoto’s arms, and the goliath quickly thrust the priest behind him while he called upon his own minor magics that Savras granted him.  A blanket of silence descended upon the room, shutting out the horrific wails from the pillar along with those of Octurus, though the Maztican’s mouth remained wide open, and the cords of his neck stood out with the efforts of his silent pain and rage.

Daelric shambled back out onto the bridge, clutching feebly at his wounds.
“Where are you going?”  Mandi demanded.
“Wha…?  I…”  Daelric raised his bloody hands as if they should be self-explanatory.
“So?  You’ve been wounded!”  Mandi snapped.  “Heal your wounds and then get your craven ass back in there before Octurus does some serious harm!”
Daelric could only gape at her, uncomprehending as he slumped to the ground, lips trembling as they tried to form the words to a prayer.

As Sepoto moved to intercept Octurus, a sudden movement from the corner of his eye caused him to turn.  Where Gregor had stood a moment before, there was now a monolithic creature formed entirely of earth and stone.  It lunged towards the Maztican, trying to wrap him up in its mighty grasp, but the warrior was too quick, even more so in his maddened state.  He deftly shimmied away from the elemental, but as he did so, Sepoto’s chain wrapped around his ankles, sending him sprawling to the ground.  At that moment, Sepoto felt a wave of power wash over him as several of his wards sputtered and died.  He knew instinctively what that meant.  S’Sharra had returned.

Mandi saw the crimson witch as well, and she was in motion in the blink of an eye.  
“Cleaver!” she called over her shoulder.  “Kill the Maztican!  Daelric can deal with him after he’s dead…that is if the priest can save himself first!”
S’Sharra was already retreating down the hall, trying to duck into the shadows once more, as had been her modus operandi, but Mandi would be damned if the demoness was going to escape her this time.  S’Sharra rounded a corner at the end of the hall, but her pursuer was only a fraction of a second behind.  As the sorceress entered a new chamber, however, she drew up short.  The exquisite hall she found herself in extended some sixty-feet from end-to-end, and terminated at a wide staircase leading up to an even larger chamber.  Stone columns carved to resemble moaning, terrified faces lined the walls until they came to staircases leading to side corridors.  S’Sharra stood at a door at one end of the hall, crouched invisibly in the gloom, though Mandi’s magically enhanced vision picked her out easily.  At the other side of chamber, however, stood two distinctly incongruous figures.  They were angels.  Mandi’s vision told her this was fact, and they were not merely disguised demons.  They wore stained robes, that might have once been white, and they each carried a large, tarnished trumpet.  Ash-stained, feathered wings rose from their shoulders, and their amber eyes shown pupiless from their emerald skinned faces.  
“Halt and identify yourself,” one of them commanded.  
“We can exchange formalities later,” Mandi replied, “but just this moment I’m pursuing a demon which has entered your domain.”
“We have seen no other but you,” the second archon said.  “We ask you this last time to stop and identify yourself.”
“To the Hells with this,” Mandi growled as she saw S’Sharra smile wickedly at her, twisting the doorknob.  Hastily, she spoke the words to a spell, and a flash of light exploded around the demoness.  When it faded, all that was left in her place was a very life-like marionette, collapsed among its strings on the floor.
“Master!” the archons cried, winding their trumpets.  “We are invaded!”
“Oh my…” Mandi exclaimed as she saw a figure appear at the head of the stairs.

______________________________________________________________________

Strategy and planning were not Tower Cleaver’s forte.  He was good at two things, following orders and killing things.  Mandi’s instructions had encompassed both areas, and though he was somewhat confused at the need to kill one of his own herd, he didn’t have the wherewithal to second guess his commander.  He strode calmly into the room as the elemental-that-had-been-Gregor bent to grasp the fallen Octurus in both hands.  The Maztican struggled like a rabid dog, biting and snapping with his teeth as he strained to free his arms.  Sepoto turned as Cleaver approached, relieved that the big minotaur would be able to lend his strength to helping restrain their companion.  The goliath had not heard Mandi’s shouted order to Cleaver, however, as he had been within the magical perimeter of silence.  Thus when the barbarian raised his axe and ended Octurus’s struggles with an economy of effort, Sepoto stared horror-struck, certain another of his team had gone mad…
_________________________________________________________________

The being on the stairs was another angel, though much more powerful than the archons.  Mandi knew that he was a deva, terrible in his beauty, all the more so because of the bloody, ragged stumps on his back where his wings had once been.  A huge sword dangled casually from his hand, its tip dragging along the stones.  
“I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing here,” the deva said, his voice devoid of emotion, “and I truly do not care, but if you value your life at all you will leave…now.”
“Your pardon, my lord,” Mandi said, sketching a small curtsey, “but as I tried to explain to your minions, I was pursuing a demon that was trying to elude capture.”
“This is my domain,” the angel answered. “ I alone deal with intruders.  You will leave, one way or another.”  He lifted the tip of his blade so that it pointed indirectly towards Mandi’s heart.  Mandi stared at him for a long moment, then deliberately bent to retrieve the puppet from the floor.  When she straightened, she nodded once, then said, “We will speak again.”  An instant later, she vanished in a flash of light.
_____________________________________________________________

“What sort of game is this?”  Belshamoth roared.  “I asked for S’Sharra, not some child’s toy!”
“If you will indulge me a moment longer, dread lord,” Mandi replied, “I shall show you that I have done exactly as you asked.  Am I correct in assuming the cage you have there is identical to the others I have seen in the prison?”
The corpulent demodand looked suspiciously at her and nodded slowly.  “Yes.  What of it?”
“Watch,” the sorceress instructed.  She walked to the cage, tossed the doll inside and quickly slammed the door shut.  A moment later, the anti-magic that imbued the cell negated every dweomer within it and S’Sharra returned to her natural form.  
“You will release me now, you miserable pig!” she screamed, gripping the bars and staring burning hatred at Belshamoth.  The demodand smiled thickly and rubbed his hands together greedily.
“All in good time, my love,” he gurgled.  “All in good time.”
“You will feel the Prince’s wrath for this!” she shrieked.
“Possibly,” he shrugged, “but you are as aware as I how our Lord feels about failure.”
She fumed silently as he turned back to Mandi.  “Now, there is the matter of your fee.  You asked about the Vanderboren siblings.  First, as you may already to know, Vanthus no longer has possession of his sister.  Lillianth has her now.  She took her to ensure Vanthus’s allegiance.  You see, Lillianth was once the greatest of generals in Demogorgon’s armies, but she fell into disfavor.  Now she seeks to regain some measure of her former greatness by playing the pretender to my throne.  Her domain lies just beyond my own.  As for the death knight, he bides his time on the island at the center of the caldera.  I would consider it a personal…favor if you eliminated both of these thorns in my ass.”
“Consider it done,” Mandi smiled.  “No charge this time.”


----------



## JollyDoc

In Memorium:  Octurus

http://www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/6464/lyrics/eyes_without_a_face.html


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## SolitonMan

Tremendous!  Thanks for the update JD, very enjoyable session.  

Great memoriam for Octurus as well, LOL!


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## Neverwinter Knight

Wow, greatest dealing with S'Sharra, ever !!! 

Too bad, she was actually kind of cute (in the maneater kind of way). She and Anwar would have totally hit it off!


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## Hammerhead

Octurus is dead for good? Man, that's surprising. I figured Sepoto would just bust out a Rev/Rev to bring him back into the fight right away.


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## JollyDoc

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Octurus is dead for good? Man, that's surprising. I figured Sepoto would just bust out a Rev/Rev to bring him back into the fight right away.




You are in fact, correct.  Octurus was brought back in the aftermath, but for effect, I left it as a cliffhanger...DM's license


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## Aracase

The sad part about Octurus' death was that it used less of our resources to kill him and Rev/Rev him than try to cure him.


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## Supar

when he cut my ass the first time i went kill him! i was invis but it didnt help that i had put blindsight and true seeing so he could crit that demon with fiendslaying sword (no teleport).


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## JollyDoc

*SUNDAY TEASER*

1)  Deciding Lavinia might be too much of a liability when they faced her brother, the Legion goes after Vanthus first

2)  The Death Knight, however, is not undefended.  His minions take a toll on the heroes until Tower Cleaver discovers the joys of Ghost Touch!

3)  Vanthus is finally bearded in his lair and the outcome is...less than satisfying.

4)  Negotiations are opened with Lilianth, and once again the Legion illustrates the painful Diplomacy void left in their ranks when Anwar died.


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## Joachim

3.5)  Mandi demonstrates to Vanthus her idea of 'hand-to-Hand' combat.


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## gfunk

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 4)  Negotiations are opened with Lilianth, and once again the Legion illustrates the painful Diplomacy void left in their ranks when Anwar died.




Yeah, those DC 50+ diplomacy checks can be a bitch if you don't have a tricked out Diplomancer.  But somehow, I think the Legion will manage in their own special way.


----------



## JollyDoc

SIBLING RIVALRY

By the time Mandi rejoined the others, Daelric had already revived Octurus from death.  The Maztican’s mind was once again intact, but the same could not be said for his ruined face.  It was beyond the priest’s ability to heal the horrific damage, but he assured Octurus he would do his best to restore what he could, given time.  The demon hunter seemed to accept this news gravely, and simply tore a length of cloth from his cloak and wrapped it completely about his head, leaving only his eyes exposed.

“I’m relieved to see you back among the living and the sane again,” Mandi said, then went on to explain to the group all that had transpired with S’Sharra and Belshamoth.  
“It is my thought,” she concluded, “that Vanthus should be our primary target.  Though Lavinia has suffered much at her brother’s hands, I am still concerned about her…objectivity concerning him.  I won’t have my hands tied when we finish him once and for all.”
No one disagreed with her reasoning, as even those among them that had never met the elder Vanderboren felt a personal enmity towards him for all the trouble he had caused them.  

Belshamoth had shown Mandi another long bridge connecting the building which held his domain from that of the fallen deva.  He explained that from the center of this span they would be able to see the small islet where Vanthus currently resided.  Stretching across a searing chasm that ended in a river of lava spilling out from the caldera was another, much shorter and narrower bridge.  A single small building of stone and iron squatted atop a stony pinnacle protruding from the lava at the far end of the bridge.  The companions gathered around Mandi, linking hands as the sorceress called upon her magic to transport them across the gulf, placing them directly before the doors of the structure.  No sooner had the momentary disorientation of transdimensional travel faded, however, than total darkness engulfed them.  Worse, the gloom did not just block out light, but it seemed to physically seep into their flesh, burning as if it were acid poured on their skin.  As the Legionnaires cast about, searching for the source of the evil magic, six deeper shadows loomed up on both sides of the bridge.  They were insubstantial things with long, curving horns and bat-like wings that seemed formed of vapor.  With earsplitting shrieks, they swooped around the group, slashing out with hooked talons that passed through armor and shields as if they were nothing, and the wounds they left were ugly, purulent rents, oozing black ichor mixed with blood.

Mandi recognized the fiends as shadow demons, creatures used as assassins by both demon lords and powerful mortals.  They were not a threat to be taken lightly, and if Vanthus commanded such servants, then perhaps he had become more of a threat than she had imagined.  Though taken by surprise, her allies were quick to respond to the attack.  A flare of brilliant light surged from Daelric’s upraised fist, and the demons quailed before it, two of them scratching at their eyes as the righteous power struck them blind.  Octurus, Sepoto and Tower Cleaver met the assault with steel, and though their weapons seemed to pass through the incorporeal bodies of the fiends, the shadow demons still reacted as if in pain, and one of them shattered into fragmented mist before one of Cleaver’s mighty blows.

The short-lived battle was fast and furious, with the outcome anything but preordained.  Though the shadow demons absorbed blow after blow from the Legion’s warriors, most of the strikes may as well have rent clouds.  At one point, Gregor found himself beset on all sides by the fiends.  The druid used his magic to create a bombardment of rock and stone, but the debris simply fell straight through the demons.  In desperation, he tried to extricate himself by transforming into a great condor, but one of the creatures literally dragged him from the air, nearly tearing his wings from his body as it did so.  Gradually, however, the efforts of Cleaver, Sepoto and Octurus began to take their toll on the demons, and several well placed force bolts from Mandi, which impacted solidly despite the fiends’ incorporeality, ultimately sealed their fate.  

Silence settled over the span, broken only by the churning river of magma below and the constant whine of the Abyssal wind.  Daelric began tending to the wounds of his allies, but to his horror he found that the vile lacerations would not close.  
“Perhaps we should return to the Sea Wyvern,” he said to Mandi.  “I can pray to Shaundekal for guidance on how to mend these ills.”
“There is not time for that,” the sorceress snapped.  “Vanthus is here.  No doubt he has been alerted to our presence by now.  If we leave, we may not find him again.  We press on!”
At her nod, Tower Cleaver proceeded to rip the door of the building from its hinges.  The stench from the chamber beyond was terrible.  Human corpses, piled like cordwood, filled the room.  It was clear from their expressions that they did not die well.  A single door stood on the opposite wall, and a bloody idol of Demogorgon stood against the north wall, its baboon heads staring with hungry malevolence.  The broken remains of a desk, a chair, and several cabinets lay against the southern wall.  As Cleaver took in the scene, several ghostly forms began to rise from the heap of bodies, moaning and wailing as they came, their hooked fingers reaching for him…
_________________________________________________________________

The creature that was once Vanthus Vanderboren crouched, hidden in the shadows of the inner chamber as he watched his dread wraith minions arise.  He feared they would fare no better against his enemies than the shadow demons had.  He had gravely misjudged Lavinia’s hirelings, imagining them to be as inept as the Jade Ravens.  Now, here they were, having pursued him to the Abyss itself!  Could their loyalty to Lavinia be so strong?  
‘Master,’ the servants of Socothbenoth whispered in his ear, ‘do not fear.  Our Lord has sent us to protect you.  The mortals shall not have you before He does.’
“Bah!” the death knight scoffed in irritation.  “Your brethren were not able to stop them, and they were twice your number.  How do you expect to prevail?”
‘The spirits of your former crew will harry and weaken the mortals, and then we shall strike!’ the shadow demons laughed.  Vanthus remained silent.  He had his doubts.  The so-called Legion would come for him soon.  He had been abandoned to this desolate place, and no one could help him now.  Demogorgon had promised that he would have access to the fleshforges of Lemoriax so that he could transform Lavinia as he had been transformed, but instead he had been told to come here, to Divided’s Ire, to await the pleasure of the Prince of Demons.  Then, no sooner had he arrived at this madhouse, than his crew was slaughtered when they were caught in the crossfire between S’Sharra and Kululblax, and as Vanthus attempted to escape, that whore Lillianth had stolen Lavinia from him.  Without his fellow Lemorians by his side, he had stood no chance against the marilith and her faction.  Now he was alone, awaiting his own inevitable fate…
___________________________________________________________________

The wraiths poured forward, passing through the walls of the building as if they were nothing, swarming out onto the bridge, eight of them in all.  Sepoto struck out fruitlessly as they passed, their incorporeal forms shedding his blows as easily as the shadow demons had.  Then the undead were among them, their spectral hands swiping at the Legionnaires, leaving the touch of the grave in their wake.  Suddenly, once more, darkness blanketed the span as three more of the shadowy fiends flew from the wall of the building, adding their own chaos to the melee.  Abruptly, a swath of white fire swept through the assailants, conjured by Gregor to skillfully leave him and his companions untouched as the flames engulfed their enemies.  Two of the wraiths shrieked in mortal agony as their bodies were consumed.  The others, however, continued to dive and swoop among his companions, no weapon able to pierce them.  In that moment Mandi slapped her forehead, unable to believe her own stupidity.  It was a very basic spell, so basic in fact, that she had almost forgotten it.  
“Cleaver!” she called.  “To me!”
The big minotaur snorted, turning in the midst of the melee towards the sorceress.  Like a juggernaut, he waded through the combatants until he stood by her side.  Immediately, she laid her hands upon the blade of his axe, chanting arcane words as she did so.  When she lifted her hands, the axe head shimmered for a moment, then became as insubstantial as the wraiths they fought.  
“Now,” Mandi said, “I think you will find your efforts much more effective.”
Snarling, Cleaver turned back towards the fray, lifting the enchanted blade high above him.  With a mighty swing, he clove across two of the shadow demons and one of the wraiths simultaneously.  To his satisfaction, it was if the axe were hewing corporeal flesh, and the wraith simply exploded.  His battle howl filling the air, he let the momentum of his blow carry him onward, cleaving a second wraith, then a third and a fourth, obliterating each as he went.  The tide changed swiftly, and though the wraiths and demons showed no sign of relenting, their battle was already lost.

Vanthus saw it all, and knew that he was finished.  His only choice now was how he would meet his end.  For a brief moment he considered flight, but he knew that would only be a temporary solution.  If the mortals did not hunt him down again, it would only be a matter of time before Demogorgon sent his own forces after the death knight.  No, it would be now.  Steeling his resolve, he leaped forward to the outer door, a flaming sword brandished in one hand and a fiery sickle clutched in the other.
“It is me you seek!” he cried.  “Come then, and you shall know the true power of Demogorgon’s chosen!”

Tower Cleaver turned towards the sound of Vanthus’s voice, shadowy ichor dripping from his blade.  His lip curled in a menacing snarl as a low growl started in his throat.
“Cleaver, no!”  Mandi screamed.  “He’s mine!”
The sorceress streaked past the minotaur and the others like a comet.  As she went, her voice lifted, shouting an incantation.  From thin air, a huge, disembodied hand formed, and before Vanthus could react, it seized him in its grasp, his bones popping as it began to squeeze and crush.
“Cowards!” the death knight gurgled.  “Do you fear to face me as men?  Is this all you have?”
Mandi’s brow furrowed as she tightened the grip on her spell.  She would not waste words on the filth.  She could taste his destruction like cold vengeance.  He could not escape her grip, and slowly, the fire began to fade from his eyes.
“Cleaver!” she called over her shoulder.  The barbarian came quickly to her side, the last of the shadow demons falling before him.  
“Before he dies, take his head!” she commanded.  Tower Cleaver snorted enthusiastically, and stepped up to the helpless death knight.
“You don’t know who you are dealing with!” Vanthus shrieked.
“I kill gods,” Cleaver said, matter-of-factly, “death knights mean nothing to me.”
_______________________________________________________________

The hezrou bowed low.
“It is true, mistress,” its toad-like throat burbled.  “They have…requested and audience with you.  They say they wish to barter for the human female’s life.”
Lillianth leaned back on her coils, steepling her thirty fingers together.
“Have they now?” the marilith said aloud.  Then, she turned to where Lavinia Vanderboren lay beaten and disheveled within an iron cage.  “There must be more to you than meets the eye, woman, to have so many contend for your seemingly insignificant life.”
Lavinia did not respond.  There was no reason to.  The demon could pull her thoughts from her mind if she wanted to.  She still maintained hope that Mandi and the Legion were truly coming for her, but her emotions and dreams had been so manipulated since her captivity that she could no longer be sure of what was real and what was twisted nightmare.  The cage she occupied hung from a thick chain bolted to the ceiling of the chamber, and it was suspended above a churning pool of lava below.  A small walkway around the pool was the only solid ground in the room.  Other cages hung nearby, but only two others were occupied.  One held a desolate looking angelic being while the second contained a large, insectile devil.  The other occupants of the chamber included the marilith herself, a sinister, skulking black-skinned demon with a horn protruding from the back of its skull, and a half-dozen or more of the vile hezrous.
“Bring them before me,” Lillianth commanded, interrupting Lavinia’s wanderings.  “At the very least, this should be entertaining.”

Several minutes later the hezrou returned, this time escorting the six mortals that had invaded Divided’s Ire, slain Kululblax and reached some sort of accord with Belshamoth.  Lillianth knew they were dangerous, possibly lethal and not to be underestimated, but she had not been chosen to lead Graz’zt’s armies because she was a fool.  She would lead them still if not for the treachery of the demon prince’s son, Athux.  Yet she was immortal.  Time was something she had plenty of, and it would only be a matter of time before she marshaled her own army, with the aid of the wretch Vanthus Vanderboren, and marched on Azzagrat to take her revenge on her former commander.  Drawing herself up to her full height and brandishing the deadly arsenal of weapons she clutched in her six hands, she addressed her petitioners.
“Know this before you open your mouths, mortals:  if you are wasting my time, flaying you alive will be the least of the torments I will inflict upon you.”
The minotaur bristled at that, and Lillianth smiled.  A loyal dog, nothing more.
“We have come to entreat you to release the woman you hold captive,” the elf sorceress said.
“Perhaps we can reach some sort of bargain.”
“And what would you have that could possibly interest me?”  Lillianth sneered.
“Name your price,” Mandi answered without hesitation.
“My price?”  Lillianth replied, her eyes going wide.  “I’ll tell you my price.  Holding the Vanderboren woman gives me leverage over her brother…leverage with which I intend to exact from him an army of undead.  What can you offer me that is worth that?”
Mandi remained silent for a long moment.  Then, with a decisive nod she reached into the haversack slung across her shoulder.
“Perhaps I do have something that might interest you at that,” she said.  Lifting her hand from the haversack, she held aloft Vanthus Vanderboren’s severed head and then casually tossed it at Lillianth’s tail.
“I can see there will be no reasoning with you,” the sorceress said softly, “so shall we move on to diplomacy by other means?”


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Greatest way to bargain, ever !!! 

Way to go with the death knigth. No Dragotha tactics, but very efficient!


----------



## JollyDoc

*SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER*

1)  The battle with Lillianth ends with the permanent demise of one Legionnaire, but it isn't the Legion that dispatches the marilith.

2)  Lavinia is freed and the mission to Divided's Ire comes to a close with unforseen aid guiding the team towards the next leg of their quest to prevent the Savage Time.

3)  Lavinia is returned home, but the Legion has another destination...Pazunia, the first layer of the Abyss.  

4)  The Legion seeks an audience with a certain information broker, and though the price is high, it is well worth it, especially when an old aquaintance makes an appearance.


----------



## Bryon_Soulweaver

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> *SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER*
> 
> .....
> 
> 4)  The Legion seeks an audience with a certain information broker, and though the price is high, it is well worth it, especially when an old aquaintance makes an appearance.




Anwar?


----------



## Aracase

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 4)  The Legion seeks an audience with a certain information broker, and though the price is high, it is well worth it, especially when an old acquaintance makes an appearance.



We like the gnomes
The gnomes that go boom
We're Daelric and Ozymandia and we like the boom
We like the gnomes
The gnomes that go boom
We're T.C. and Sepoto and we like the boom


----------



## LordVyreth

I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed by Vanthus.  I thought the guy would put up at least a little fight, especially since he's been an enemy of the party since, what, adventure 1?


----------



## WarEagleMage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed by Vanthus.  I thought the guy would put up at least a little fight, especially since he's been an enemy of the party since, what, adventure 1?




Well, our (usually) faithful storyteller didn't mention the Deadfall that Gregor dropped on him before Mandi put the squeeze on.  No SR, no save for damage, and he failed his save to stay upright.  So he was under 5 feet of trees and prone when the others did their work.


----------



## gfunk

_Deadfall_ was a favorite at JollyDoc's Iron Man competition a couple of years back for exactly the reasons stated.


----------



## JollyDoc

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed by Vanthus.  I thought the guy would put up at least a little fight, especially since he's been an enemy of the party since, what, adventure 1?




For those not privy to Savage Tide info:

Vanthus Vanderboren

Lemorian Death Knight Aristocrat 1/ Rogue 5/ Fighter 4/ Tempest 5

AC:  42 (not bad, and probably his only noteworthy asset)

HP:  97! (yes, you read that right.  One tango with TC and that's all she wrote)

SR: 25 (when Mandi takes 10 or SR checks, it's somewhere around 32)

Fort:  +9  Ref:  +11  Will:  +5  (In short, he has the saves of a 3rd level PC)

Melee:
+4 flaming burst longsword +25/+20/+15
and
+2 flaming burst sickle +23/+18
and 
tail +15

Spell Like Abilities:

Charm Monster DC 19 (useless); Command DC 16 (useless); Unholy Aura (useful but with these kind of stats?  Meh!); Dominate Person DC 20 (useless); Fear DC 19 (useless); Mass Suggestion DC 21 (useless); Suggestion DC 18 (useless); Unhallow (useless)

Special Attacks:

1/day:  Abyssal Blast:  20' r. fireball for 15d6, DC 22 (Yay!)

Summon Mount:  nightmare (Yay!)


And that's the tale of the tape, ladies and gentleman.  Considering most of the Legion have buffed AC's in the high 30's to low 40's, Vanthus had roughly a 25% chance of hitting with his highest attack bonus.  Couple this with crappy abilities and the hp of an epic level commoner, and you have one gigantic, disappointing panty waist of a BBEG!

Allow me to quote from the adventure:  "Vanthus's first act in combat is to tumble through the PC's and out onto the bridge, where he summons his nightmare, mounts up, and rides into the sky around this pinnacle so that he can use his spell-like abilities against the PC's to sow dissent in their ranks.  Once he mangages to confuse things by charming and dominating PC's, he picks his targets, flies down, and dismounts, taking them on in one-on-one combat."

Let's see...move action to tumble through PC's.  Standard to summon nightmare.  That's one round.  Move action to mount nightmare.  Move action to fly into the air.  That's two rounds.  As for the sowing of dissent?  Come on!  The DC's of his SLA's couldn't challenge a group of 8th level PC's, much less 17th level!  So, what do you really think would have happened in the two rounds he would have wasted just getting into position to unleash this devastating magical assault?  Again, Tower Cleaver calls Vanthus center pocket.


----------



## Quartz

I would have thought the Dominate Person or Charm Monster powers would be quite effective against Tower Cleaver.

BTW, for some RP fun, do give TC a +6 Belt of Magnificence. I'd like to see how he relates to the others when he's got decent mental stats.


----------



## humble minion

Yeah, Vanthus is terribly, terribly feeble.  It's mostly because the two stacking (and not over-powerful) templates eat away at his HD and leave his CR artificially high for his power.  The hit his BAB takes from his becoming undead doesn't help much, either.

When I get around to running him, I'll probably beef him up by giving him fighter BAB, unholy grace, and unholy toughness.  On top of that, I might stack a few levels of bard, marshal, and White Raven warblade on the shadow demons that Socothbenoth has given him, so they can pump him up even further.  And I might sub out the nightmare-summoning ability for some other power too - he has a fly speed, after all!


----------



## Aracase

Quartz said:
			
		

> I would have thought the Dominate Person or Charm Monster powers would be quite effective against Tower Cleaver.



Tower Cleaver says "Third Eye of Conceal - FTW!"



			
				humble minion said:
			
		

> On top of that, I might stack a few levels of bard, marshal, and White Raven warblade on the shadow demons that Socothbenoth has given him, so they can pump him up even further.  And I might sub out the nightmare-summoning ability for some other power too - he has a fly speed, after all!



As for buffing the shadow demons or the elder wraiths, don't. They were tearing us apart until Mandi cast ghost touch on my weapon.  The vile damage is brutal.  They are very deadly at their CR.  Terrain, vile damage, incorporeal, touch attacks, add up to a lot of hurt.


----------



## JollyDoc

MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS

Lillianth’s eyes went crimson with rage when she realized what the mortals had done, but before she could give the word to attack, the elf witch began weaving a spell, filling the room with a mind-numbing cacophony of maddening whispers.  One after the other, her hezrous clutched at their skulls before crumpling to the ground in fetal positions.  Behind her, Jariaxer, her babau assassin, did the same.
“If you think I need my underlings to eviscerate you, then you have much to learn!” the marilith screeched.  Gesturing with one of her six arms she conjured into being a whirling dervish of flashing blades.  Daelric, Octurus and Tower Cleaver were forced to leap for safety as the wall of death flashed past them.  From behind them, however, they heard a choked-off gurgle.  Horrified, they saw Gregor reduced to a fine, red mist by the magical blades.  The druid, still weakened by the vile wounds inflicted upon him by the shadow demons, had been a fraction of a second too slow.  In a matter of seconds, nothing remained by shredded clothing.
“Two can play that game!” Mandi snarled.  “I however, prefer avasculation to evisceration!”  
Twisting her hands into claws and pulling them in a ripping motion, the sorceress performed the same, gruesome surgical procedure on Lillianth that she had on her rival, Kululblax.  The marilith’s blood vessels squirted out of her skin into a sickening, entangling mass all around her.  Throughout her centuries of existence, Lillianth had borne witness to, and been an active participant in a staggering array of tortures, but she’d never been on the receiving end until now.  Caught off guard, she acted by pure reflex, teleporting herself out of the entrails, and out of the room.

“Well that was…brief,” Sepoto said, wrapping his chain around the neck of one of the comatose hezrous and snapping it.
“Yes,” Octurus said, his voice muffled behind his face shroud as he gutted two more of the demons.  “I would have expected more from one of Graz’zt’s generals.
“You mean something like this!”  Lillianth hissed as she slithered back into the room directly behind Sepoto.  At another gesture from her, a second wall of blades appeared, this one bisecting the chamber, leaving only Sepoto trapped on the same side as the marilith.
“Suits me,” Sepoto growled, dodging nimbly away from the demon’s whirling arsenal as he struck back, his chain opening ugly rents in Lillianth’s flesh.  A moment later, a flash of white light engulfed Daelric and spread from him, searing like molten acid across the marilith’s entire body.  As she began to scream, Tower Cleaver barreled towards the blade barrier, tucking his body into a surprisingly nimble roll for one so massive.  As he came to his feet on the far side, not a mark scarred his hide from the deadly blades, and his axe was already in motion, slicing cleanly through one of the downed hezrous and cleaving into Lillianth.
“Lynnara!  Where are you?”  Lillianth wailed as she struggled to distance herself from her assailants, one of her scimitars and her barbed tail slashing at Cleaver as she retreated. 
“Right here, mistress,” came a husky voice from the shadows behind Lillianth.  Suddenly, the tip of a sword blade sprouted from the center of the marilith’s chest and her eyes went wide as black blood burst from her lips.  She slid limply to the floor, revealing a woman who would be considered beautiful by any standards, had it not been for the small, black horns protruding from beneath her hair, the large, leathery wings on her back and the pointed, prehensile tail that coiled about her long legs.  Wrenching her weapon from Lillianth’s back, she wiped the blade clean and calmly sheathed it.

“I don’t know who you are,” Mandi said coldly to the new arrival, “but if you place any value on your life, you’ll stay right where you are and don’t say a word until I tell you to.  Sepoto, if she makes a move, kill her.”
The crusader nodded, holding his chain taut as he took up a position behind the succubus.  
“Octurus, tend to the others,” Mandi continued.  “Cleaver, retrieve Lavinia’s cell.”
Octurus nodded as well, moving from one hezrou to the other and quickly ending each one’s life before he administered a coup-de-grace to the babau.  Cleaver hooked Lavinia’s cage with his axe and drew it within his reach, then wrenched the entire thing from the ceiling with one great tug.  Meanwhile, Mandi flew casually to the cage containing the ice devil.
‘You and are I not so different,’ she communicated telepathically.  ‘How did you come to be here?’
‘I was on the losing side of one of the endless conflicts of the Bloodwar,’ the insectile devil replied with its alien thoughts.  
‘What will you do if I free you?’ Mandi asked.
‘I will leave this place, and woe to any who stand in my way!’
‘Then I shall free you,’ Mandi replied.  ‘My allies, however, may not feel as I do, so I shall have to be…discreet about this.  I intend to drop your cage into the lava below.  I know that your kind are immune to even the hottest fires, but I suggest you do your best to convince them that you are indeed suffering great agony.  Then, once the magma dissolves your prison, wait beneath until we are gone, and then you may go your own way.’
The gelugon agreed, and Mandi flew back several feet.
“It is my intention to summarily execute this denizen of Hell,” she announced aloud.  “Do any of you disagree with my actions?”
None of the Legionnaires did.  Sepoto and Daelric even snickered at the idea.  Mandi then pointed her finger at the chain which suspended the cell, and a thin beam of green light instantly disintegrated several of the links, dropping the cage into the molten lava below.  Immediately the devil began to shriek and thrash, pounding at the bars until the cell sank out of sight.  Once it was gone, Mandi moved to the cage containing the archon.
‘We are friends,’ she spoke into his mind.  ‘I’m going to free you know, and you may go as you please.  I know there are others of your kind in the building on the far side of the caldera.’
This time, she settled for merely disintegrating the lock on the cage door, allowing it to swing open.  The archon looked up at her with empty eyes, stood, walked to the door, and then calmly stepped out and fell into the magma.  He did not scream as his flesh was quickly cremated.
Mandi cocked her head for a moment curiously, shrugged and flew over to the ledge where Cleaver had placed Lavinia’s cage.

Tower Cleaver and Sepoto had succeeded in opening Lavinia’s cell, but the young noblewoman still crouched inside, eyeing the pair suspiciously.
“Lavinia,” Mandi said as she alighted, “it’s me, Ozymandia.  I’ve been communicating with you since we arrived on the Abyss.  We’ve come for you as we promised.”
“I…I want to believe you,” Lavinia answered tentatively, tears standing in her eyes, “but you don’t know how many times I’ve been duped into false hope, only to have it shattered by the malicious whims of these fiends!”
“Have they ever told you this before?”  Mandi asked, and then she began to speak telepathically to her employer, telling her details of her father that no one else could possibly know.  When she finished, the light of hope had appeared in Lavinia’s eyes.  She looked up at Sepoto.
“Tell me who your original companions were, and what became of them,” she said.
Sepoto did so without hesitation, recounting the various fates of Gotr, Ferox, Thrisp, Basil, Marius, Samson and, of course, Anwar.  When he was finished, Lavinia rose shakily to her feet, and then rushed to embrace her hirelings, who had become so much more than that.  When she had regained her composure, her eyes drifted to the severed head of Vanthus lying nearby.
“Is that really him?” she asked.  Mandi nodded.  Slowly, Lavinia walked over and gazed into the dead eyes of the creature that had once been her brother.  Then, with her jaw set grimly, she kicked the gory remains into the lava.

Throughout the reunion, the succubus Lillianth had called Lynarra stood quietly by, watching it all with dispassion.  Finally, Mandi approached her, flanked by the other Legionnaires.  
“Now, I’ll hear your story,” she said in clipped tones, “and it had better be good, or you’ll soon join your mistress reincarnated as a larva.”
“She was not my mistress,” Lynarra replied blandly, unperturbed by Mandi’s threat.  “I serve another, and I was told of your arrival here and was instructed to aid you as I may.”
“Who do you work for?” Sepoto asked with narrowed eyes.
“That is my business,” the succubus replied, causing the crusader to tense and bristle.  “Suffice it to say that the interests of my employer coincide with your own at the moment.  I know that securing the freedom of this woman was not your only reason for coming here.  You seek to thwart the plans of the Prince of Demons, whatever those may be.”
“And I suppose you’re just going to tell us this,” Mandi said snidely.  
“That would be presumptuous,” Lynarra smiled.  “How could one such as I pretend to know the secrets of one so powerful?  No, I am merely a vessel, placed her to guide you further along your road.  There is one, however, who knows the mind of Demogorgon…intimately.”
“And who would that be?” Mandi asked, her foot tapping impatiently.
“Haven’t you guessed?” Lynarra laughed.  “Her image is everywhere in Divided’s Ire, for of course you know, this was not always a prison.  Indeed, when it was first created, it was meant to be a private retreat, a pleasure palace if you will, created by Demogorgon’s confidante and lover, Shami-Amourae.”
“The former Queen of Succubi?” Mandi asked.  “I thought she had been destroyed by Malcanthet.”
“It is difficult to destroy a demon lord,” Lynarra said.  “No, Shami-Amourae lives still, or so I’m told, but few know her fate.”
“And you’re one of those few?” Mandi asked, her patience thinning even further.
“Alas, no,” the succubus sighed, “but here is where I may be of assistance.  I know of someone whose knowledge of the Lady of Debased Eros is second-to-none…Red Shroud, daughter of Malcanthet, and Shami-Amourae’s niece.  She rules the city of Broken Reach, on the plane of Pazunia, the so-called Plane of Infinite Portals.  Seek her out there, and your path may be made more clear.”
“How do we convince her to help us?” Mandi asked dubiously.
“Just ask,” Lynarra smiled, “but ask nicely…very nicely.  And now, I can be of no further assistance to you, so I shall take my leave…by your leave.”
After a moment, Mandi nodded dismissively, convinced that the succubus probably didn’t know anything more of any real use, nor would she reveal anything else even if she did know.  Lynarra bowed and then vanished into thin air.
______________________________________________________

The companions, with Lavinia in tow, left the demonic prison and made their way back to the Sea Wyvern without incident.  The crew was elated when they saw their patron, and even more so when they learned they would be returning to the Prime without further delay.  Mandi took the ship back out into the open waters of Gaping Maw, then navigated the Maw’s Teeth once more before reaching the Abyssian Ocean again.  Once there, she activated the Wake Portal a second time, and in a matter of moments, the Sea Wyvern once more sailed under the familiar stars of the Prime.  

The Legionnaires spent the evening secluded with Lavinia, discussing future plans.  Lavinia knew that she could not follow where her hired heroes had to journey.  Farshore still needed her, but first she must return to Tashluta to secure the political and financial banking it would take to unseat Lord Meravanchi and his vile nephew.  And so, the following morning, the Legion said their goodbyes to both crew and Lavinia.  Mandi instructed the captain to set sail for Tashluta and remain there until they were instructed differently by Lavinia, or until Mandi herself returned.  Then, the Legionnaires gathered round her as she held up a small, metal tuning fork and began to chant.  Once more, a sickening vertigo enveloped them as the barriers between planes were rent asunder, and the laws of time and space were bent.  When their minds cleared again, they found themselves standing upon a blasted plain, before a fortress of crumbling stone towers.  They had reached Pazunia, the very first layer of the Abyss, and the weigh station for all points beyond…
__________________________________________________________

Broken Reach, despite its decrepit appearance, was actually a thriving city.  It had a reputation of being a good place to purchase armor, weapons, consumables and a wide variety of poisons, as well as a place to acquire information or to find a guide to the deeper layers of the Abyss.  The streets were thronged with a mixture of demons, tieflings and other plane traveling races, as well as an abundance of humanoid mercenaries seeking employment as warriors in the eternal Blood War.  Once the Legionnaires had entered the city, it was not hard to determine where Red Shroud held court.  A towering structure of white marble and red glass stood at the center of Broken Reach, conspicuous and out of place amid the tumble down architecture.  It stood sixty feet off the ground, approachable by two intertwined, curving ramps of polished wood.  Halfway up these ramps four marble statues of a beautiful succubus, presumably Red Shroud, stood on a platform.  At the top of the ramps a shimmering wall of opaque red fire covered the actual entrance to the throne room, and a burly nalfeshnee demon stood guard there, arms crossed over its massive chest.
“State your business,” the demon growled without preamble.
“We seek audience with Red Shroud,” Mandi replied.  “We seek information from her.”
“The minimum price is ten-thousand gold coins,” the fiend replied, “non-negotiable and payable in advance.”
He held out one large hand.  Tightening her jaw, Mandi drew a heavy coin purse from her belt and counted out the required tribute.  The demon tucked them away, and then gestured towards the curtain.

Beyond, the throne room was a wide open space of polished floors.  Curtained alcoves stood to either side and the central floor contained a sheet of shimmering red glass.  The throne itself stood upon a dais at the far end of the hall, surrounded by courtiers and petitioners.  Lounging upon the seat was a stunningly beautiful succubus, with fair skin, crimson hair, large bat wings and eyes that glowed with sinister desire.  She was flanked by a quartet of hezrous, while in one corner of the room stood and angular-featured halfling with spiky red hair and bright orange garments with a flame motif.  When the company drew near the dais, Red Shroud waved dismissively to those gathered round as the nalfeshnee deposited the coins at her feet.  Her eyes flickered disinterestedly towards them before locking onto Mandi’s.
“Why do you come before the Presence,” she asked in a husky voice.
“We have come seeking information.  We require the location of your aunt, Shami-Amourae.”
Red Shroud’s eyes flashed dangerously, and she sat up, the hezrous tensing around her.
“You have no tact or subtlety at all, do you?” she asked, dangerously quiet.
“I have neither the time nor the patience for games of Court,” Mandi replied.
Red Shroud waved her hand contemptuously at the pile of coins before her and sneered, 
“For this pittance, you think that I should tell you of things no one else knows?”
“I…understood this was the price your required,” Mandi said slowly.
“You get what you pay for,” Red Shroud snorted.  
Mandi thought for a moment, then slowly unfolded her portable hole on the floor.  Reaching into it, she withdrew the chest of Hathruman, which the Legion had retrieved from the treasury of the Kraken Society.  Red Shroud sat forward with interest, her eyes momentarily betraying her knowledge of the value of the item.  
“Perhaps this will help as well,” came a voice from within the crowd.  Then, a gnome dressed in scarlet robes stepped forward and casually dropped another large sack of coins next to the first.
Mandi’s face became pinched and flushed.
“You have a lot of nerve showing your face before me, traitor!” she spat.  “You abandoned us when we needed you.  Coward!  You know nothing of loyalty.  We neither require nor desire your assistance!”
“Mandi,” Marius tsked, shaking his head and smiling, “surely you know me well enough by now to realize that the fate of one woman means nothing to me.  You of all people should know that there are far greater powers at work here now, and I have learned many things since we parted company, and though the needs of the many don’t concern me any more than the needs of the few, I still have a soft spot in my hear for our home plane.  After all, it’s where I keep all my stuff!  If the Prince of Demon’s plans come to fruition, you won’t have to worry about our former employer’s well being any longer.”
For once, Mandi was speechless.  She could not find a single flaw to argue in the war mage’s logic.  He was right, and if she was being truthful with herself, she had to admit that it wasn’t Lavinia’s safe return that had driven her to the Abyss.  It was vengeance, and there was still more to be had.
“Am I interrupting something here?”  Red Shroud asked shrilly, drawing all eyes back to her.
“Your pardon, my lady,” Mandi bowed.  “Old wounds.  I trust our offer is sufficient by now for us to strike a deal.”
Red Shroud gazed upon the horde with open avarice before nodding.  Then, turning to the nalfeshnee, she ordered the throne room cleared save for her and her paying guests.
____________________________________________________________

“As you may know,” Red Shroud began, “Shami-Amourae, also called the Lady of Delights, among other titles, once aspired to the title of Queen of the Succubi.  She once played the role of consort to Demogorgon, but the Prince of Demons spurned her in favor of Malcanthet.  Rumor holds that he had her imprisoned in the Wells of Darkness.”
“The Wells of Darkness?”  Sepoto asked.
“For centuries, the Fraternity of Order has attempted to catalog the infinite Planes of the Abyss,” Red Shroud continued.  “They numbered them in the order they were discovered.  Ulricon the Necromancer explored the seventy-third layer in the third year of the reign of the child-factol Andalon.  He named the layer the Wells of Darkness for the eponymous pits that dotted its ruined landscape.  Each of these black wells is said to contain an imprisoned demon, god or corpse.  Some were overthrown by rivals, while others failed spectacularly in the their conduct of the Blood War.  Although it is theoretically possible to escape imprisonment in one of the Wells, such escapes usually require the Lords of Woe, or the intervention of a greater deity.  Those known to have escaped included Bayemon of the Unhealing Wound, the marilith queen Shaktari, Siragle the Ineffable, and vaunted Zzyczesiya.  The Wells of Darkness has no lord, though many of its properties are said to have been established by Ahazu the Seizer, demon lord of the night and abduction.”
Sepoto’s eyes grew wide, and his fingers strayed to the long, black tooth that protruded from his mouth.  Red Shroud smiled and nodded.
“Yes, I noticed that you bear the tooth of Ahazu.  That item was recently sold right her in Broken Reach to a varrangoin outcast named Sutolore.  The seller happened to be a lilitu demon in the service of Malcanthet.  I offer you that piece of information for free.”
“What can you tell us of Ahazu?”  Mandi asked.
“As I said,” Red Shroud replied, “he was the lord of night and abduction, but he vanished from the multiverse long ago.  What most do not know is that he has become a prisoner of the realm he created.  He and his prisoners dwell in the void beyond the boundaries of the layer, a place known as Shattered Night.  The Wells of Darkness are windows into this void, each one allowing observers to perceive one of Ahazu’s prisoners.  This too I know:  when Ulricon discovered the Wells, he claimed a ruined fortress atop the layer’s highest tor as a base from which to further his investigations of the realm.  That fortress is now rumored to be haunted, possibly by the remnants of Ulricon’s followers.  The marvelous inner chamber of this structure is alleged to contain a scale model of the entire layer, complete with inky pools marked with the demonic seals of their inhabitants.  Many believe that the fortress protects some sort of controlling mechanism for the layer, but if so, no one has figured out yet how to make it work.  What Ulricon did not know was that the fortress, called Overlook, was originally constructed by the Cult of Ahazu.  That cult was destroyed by Orcus after Ahazu’s followers tried and failed to imprison him as an offering to their patron.  Overlook is now home to a tribe of varrangoins, oft-mistaken for the undead thought to roam its halls.  They are extremely protective of some great secret within the heart of the fortress.  Ulricon and his followers were forced to flee Overlook after trying to bind Ahazu to their will.  In failing, they summoned forth the Spawn of Ahazu, who now haunt the lower reaches.”
Red Shroud concluded her speech, sitting back and crossing her arms across her chest.  Sepoto continued to absently stroke his tooth.
“Tell me again about how you came to possess that,” Mandi said, interrupting his reverie.  
“While we were exploring the ruins of Tamoachan, we encountered a varrangoin that had apparently been trapped there,” the goliath answered.  “When he was defeated, we found in his possession the bat idol that we later discovered was stolen from the shrine of Zotzilaha.  When we returned it, as you recall, we found the tooth in the treasury…and the bat god’s aspect said he had no idea where it had come from.”
“An interesting set of coincidences,” Mandi mused.  “The plot thickens, and twists.  It would seem we are being drawn along some preconceived path…one which now leads to the Wells of Darkness, but perhaps we shall surprise these puppeteers in the end.  The wheels are firmly in motion now, my friends.”


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Ouch, that sounded expensive. Good thing that greed is so common in the Abyss. 

And welcome back Marius. WarEagleMage, what made you change your mind about your 3-strikes-then-you're-out rule? 

The way that last combat seemed so easy, I wonder in awe how this group will fare with the upcoming modules.


----------



## Joachim

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Ouch, that sounded expensive. Good thing that greed is so common in the Abyss.




We, as a group, gave just under 90k worth of items and gold, excluding the Iron Chest of Hathruman which is of inestimable value.  We always tend to overdo what is required in our bribes.


----------



## WarEagleMage

I realized that the druid was simply not effective in the Abyss, and that Marius would be a better benefit to the party.  I could have simply created a new PC, but at 17th level I didn't want to fool with it.  Besides, Marius _was_ still alive, and you'll learn more of his story shortly.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Better "overbribe" than "underbribe", I agree. Did you ever get that million gp (or was it more) from the miracle used in the linker adventure?

I liked JollyDocs description of why Marius left. Maybe those forces he saw on his last death cought up with him.


----------



## Aracase

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Did you ever get that million gp (or was it more) from the miracle used in the linker adventure?



Sort of.  It was so much money that Joe didn't give it to us, instead he gave us enough XP to get to Level 17 and gave us the option to write a role-playing story that used the money.


----------



## JollyDoc

*SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER* 

1)  The crew procures a tuning fork for the Wells of Darkness at Abyssal bargain basement prices.

2)  Arriving on the prison plane, they set out immediately for Overlook, hoping to find the key to freeing Shami-Amourae

3)  However, they find the ancient fortress far from unoccupied...

4)  Once the map room is located, its guardians take Tower Cleaver down a peg or two by snuffing out his pretty, glowing axe...

5)  Sepoto gets a tooth ache and finds out that Abyssal ants can spit...


----------



## IanB

humble minion said:
			
		

> Yeah, Vanthus is terribly, terribly feeble.  It's mostly because the two stacking (and not over-powerful) templates eat away at his HD and leave his CR artificially high for his power.  The hit his BAB takes from his becoming undead doesn't help much, either.
> 
> When I get around to running him, I'll probably beef him up by giving him fighter BAB, unholy grace, and unholy toughness.  On top of that, I might stack a few levels of bard, marshal, and White Raven warblade on the shadow demons that Socothbenoth has given him, so they can pump him up even further.  And I might sub out the nightmare-summoning ability for some other power too - he has a fly speed, after all!




His BAB doesn't take any hit from becoming undead, because he doesn't have any 'monster' HD. He just has a low BAB because of the levels of rogue and aristocrat. He's just not a terribly well-built character. I suspect, in any case, if your group isn't cutting-edge-optimized like JollyDoc's always are, Vanthus with all his buddies will make for a challenging fight.


----------



## JollyDoc

IanB said:
			
		

> I suspect, in any case, if your group isn't cutting-edge-optimized like JollyDoc's always are, Vanthus with all his buddies will make for a challenging fight.




Did I mention that I killed Gregor???  Oh, and I tore off Octurus's face!!!


----------



## Aracase

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Oh, and I tore off Octurus's face!!!



This really was one of the moments that 'made the campaign'.

And since it wasn't my character, it was kinda cool.


----------



## JollyDoc

WELLS OF DARKNESS

On Red Shroud’s advice, the six companions sought out a specific merchant in the market place of Broken Reach.  He was a mercane, though not one of those they had encountered on the Abyssian Ocean.  Without being asked, he silently produced a non-descript metallic tuning fork.
“Twenty-thousand in gold,” he said without blinking.  “I assure you, that is ‘bargain basement’ for this particular item.”
Mandi eyed him for a moment and then snapped her fingers at Tower Cleaver.  The big minotaur produced a large sack and dropped it on the counter with a snort.  Mandi knew that planar attunements were not cheap, especially those meant for travel to more obscure, or secure destinations.  The price sounded right.  She picked up the fork and motioned for the others to follow, leading them to the center of the market.
“You’re going to do it right here?”  Marius asked.  “In front of everyone?”
“I suspect all the ‘right’ people are already well aware of what we are doing,” the sorceress answered.  “The time for secrecy has passed.”
The group gathered round her as she began the spell of planar shifting.  The tuning fork began to glow ominously, and the environment around them blurred into a shifting miasma of color and sound.  A howling wind filled their ears as light and dark streamed by.  Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over.
_____________________________________________________________

Once the motion sickness of the transition had passed, the company gazed around at their new surroundings.  They stood on a white marble path, ten feet in width.  Ten yards off the path, on either side, the rocky ground abruptly ended in shifting walls of mist, rising twenty feet in height.  Above the fog, large, jagged tors could be glimpsed, and above all a steely blue sun shown down, making harsh shadows and throwing an unhealthy glow across the landscape.
“Now what?” Marius asked.
“Well,” Mandi replied, “the most obvious choice would be to seek out Shami-Amourae’s prison, but since we have no idea where to find it, nor any way to free her if we did so, then I suggest we seek out Overlook first.  If the rumors are true then we should find the map room there, as well as a possible control chamber.”
“And if the rumors are true, we may also find the so-called Spawn of Ahazu,” Marius snapped.
“Surely you didn’t go to all the trouble of finding us again just play the part of devil’s advocate, did you?”  Mandi smiled, gently stressing the word ‘devil.’
“I most assuredly did not go through all that trouble to end up dead…again,” the gnome retorted.  “Still, I see no other option, so how do we go about finding the fortress?”
“Daelric knows where it is,” the sorceress said, slapping the priest on the back.  “Don’t you, Daelric?”
“There is not a place in the multiverse that the Traveler cannot find,” the cleric said smugly.  
He placed his hands together, pointing his index fingers at the sky, and then began to chant and turn slowly.  Eventually his fingers bent to point west down the path.
“That way,” he said, and began to walk.  

The scenery was unchanging, and they encountered no other travelers, nor the mysterious guardians of the plane.  Twice, the path they followed opened into  paved courtyards with  wide, black wells in their centers.  The Legionnaires gave them wide berths, unwilling to disturb whomever or whatever lay imprisoned within.  After passing the second such well, Daelric came to a halt, his fingers pointing up, towards the summit of a high tor they could just see in the distance.
“There,” he said.
Mandi nodded, and waved the others into a circle around her once more.  This time, the trip was much briefer, and less disorienting, but when it ended, the company found themselves atop the tor, staring at a large and ancient fortress.  It was constructed of blood-red marble and dominated by a massive corner tower.  The once-grand edifice was crumbling, and several holes in the walls opened into the structure’s interior, giving easy access to the once-opulent chambers within.  The six adventurers made their way to the shattered front doors and entered the nave of the fortress.  Within, wooden floors hung in various states of disrepair, all caked with guano.  A wooden staircase appeared to have once spiraled up the interior wall, but large sections had collapsed and fallen to the stone floor.  Most of the chambers were open to the sky above, but a few of the smaller rooms were more or less intact.  Here and there, a few eerie paintings still adorned the walls, but rectangular discolorations suggested many others had been removed.  Each of the remaining paintings was more disturbing than the last, depicting scenes of horror and chaos that could only exist amidst the Infinite Planes of the Abyss.

“Tower Cleaver hate this place,” the minotaur grumbled as he struggled to avert his eyes from the disturbing paintings.  
“I think you’re about to hate it a lot more,” Octurus murmured from beneath his balaclava, gazing up into the rafters above.  As the rest of the group raised their eyes to follow his gaze, several high-pitched shrieks filled their ears and the air was alive with beating wings.  From out of the darkness dove almost a dozen bat-like humanoids…varrangoin.  Claws extended, fangs bared with saliva flying from their mouths, they swarmed the Legionnaires.  Marius was spun completely around as one struck him a glancing blow when it passed.  Octurus crouched, his eyes picking one of the demons out the pack as it closed.  Just as it was upon him, he pivoted, letting it pass bare inches from him, and then slashing across the back of its thigh, hamstringing it and sending it tumbling across the floor.  Sepoto and Tower Cleaver were more direct, hacking and whipping at anything that moved, and sending screaming fiends scattering in all directions.  

As quickly as they fell, however, the varrangoin scrambled nimbly back to their feet, darting in and slashing viciously.  Marius seemed to bear the brunt of their attacks, as Daelric remained invisible throughout the melee, healing wounds where he could, while the three warriors managed to keep their assailants at bay with whirling steel, and Mandi assumed the form of a towering angelic being whose skin seemed to shed the blows of the demons like water.  It was only a matter of time, however, before the deadly gnome saw his chance, hurling a fiery bead at his feet and blasting all of the varrangoin away, clearing a wide swath around him.  As they struggled to recover, the warriors pounced on them, aided by Mandi’s powerful telekinetic grasp, which would hold one demon still while Tower Cleaver dispatched it before moving on to another.  In this manner the Legionnaires made quick work of the varrangoin, and before long, the fortress was quiet again.

The varrangoin had been expected.  Red Shroud had warned the Legionnaires about their presence, but it was the rumored Spawn of Ahazu that Mandi was concerned with.  It had been her experience that deific spawn were always bad news.  She recalled all too well the Age of Worms, when the spawn of Kyuss had been released once more upon the world.  So it was with trepidation that she and the others approached the doors that led into the large tower on the fortress’s southeast side.  Beyond them, the tower was revealed to be a single immense chamber.  A collection of strange paintings hung on the walls, but it was what lay in the center of the room that drew the attention of the six companions.  It was a circular mosaic, fully forty feet in diameter, made of hundreds of stone tiles.  These created a scale model of the Wells of Darkness in their entirety, complete with inky pools marked with demonic seals.  In the center of the diorama, where Overlook should have been, was instead another pool marked with a strange glyph that resembled a fanged maw.  Immediately Sepoto felt drawn towards the mosaic.  The black tooth that protruded over his lower lip began to throb, and he felt that there was something he had to do.  Almost mechanically, he walked into the room and knelt down on the floor beside the display.  Marius, Mandi and Daelric followed, gazing at the diorama as well as the odd artwork.  As Octurus and Tower Cleaver crossed the threshold, however, they were suddenly seized by wracking pains, causing both of them to double over and fall to their knees just inside the door, where the agony passed as quickly as it had come.
“This…place…,” Octurus wheezed.  “So…evil…I can…smell it…”
Marius quirked an eyebrow and shrugged.  “Funny, I hadn’t noticed.”

Sepoto had ignored the entire incident, focused as he was on the mosaic.  In his mind he could see a pattern beginning to form, and he reached out one finger and pressed one of the tiles.  It sank in a fraction of an inch with a metallic click.  Quickly, the goliath began to press more tiles in rapid succession, totally absorbed in the task.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Mandi muttered.  
Meanwhile, Octurus had just pulled himself slowly to his feet when his sharp eyes spotted a faint flutter of movement in the darkness above.
“Ware!” he shouted as four immense shadows detached themselves from the gloom.  They appeared as nothing so much as huge manta rays composed of utter darkness.  They flapped and circled high above and their voices sounded like harsh whispers echoing across the vast, open space.  Suddenly, an energy wave ripped across the chamber and the Legionnaires felt a physical pull as the magic ripped at their arcane and divine wards.  The creatures were trying to weaken their defenses.  As Mandi realized what the things were, her heart grew cold.  She had heard tales of such beasts told in frightened whispers…nightshades, undead beings crafted from shadow stuff.  Specifically, they were nightwings, and beyond their unliving nature, she knew little else.  Could these be Ahazu’s spawn?  There was no time for conjecture.  She couldn’t allow them to further debilitate the protections of her and her companions.  A blast of green fire streaked from her hand, tearing off large chunks of shadowy darkness from one of the beasts.  Then, whirling she grabbed Tower Cleaver’s arm and spoke another spell, rendering the minotaur lighter than air.
“Get up there!” she snarled.  
As Cleaver nodded and rose from the ground, Daelric released his own magic, lighting up the darkness like bright daylight.  One of the nightwings simply disintegrated in the blast.  Then another shrieked as a beam of light like concentrated sunlight shown from Marius’s outstretched palm.  As it writhed and burned, Tower Cleaver swung his glowing axe, completely obliterating its corporeal form.  The remaining two horrors swarmed around the barbarian, and Cleaver felt a gust of air colder than the grave.  Just like that, the light from his axe was snuffed out, leaving him holding dull, gray metal in his hands.  
“Noooooo!” he howled, and proceeded to flail at the nearest nightwing with all his might.  Even with the magic of his blade suppressed, his sheer, raw strength was awesome to behold, and the undead creature withered under his repeated blows.  An instant later its companion also ceased to exist as Marius’s disintegrated it into black powder.

“Got it!” Sepoto yelled abruptly.  He pushed in the last tile, the pattern he had created an exact duplicate of the fanged sigil.  As the final tile clicked into place, the entire mosaic began to rumble.  Within seconds, the tiles began to fold outward in a clattering storm, overlapping impossibly back on themselves as if they had no depth at all, until they had folded neatly into the rim of the upper edge of an exposed shaft…a large well.  The walls of the shaft were gouged and pitted, as if a great beast had clawed its way into the depths long ago.  Several hundred feet below rippled the glint of inky, black liquid.  Thousands of horrifically silent ants clung to the upper walls, their cold, blue eyes and dripping mandibles eerie in the stillness.  As one, they raised their heads to stare at Sepoto, and then as one, they began swarming up the walls.

“Watch out!” Daelric cried as he began chanting, calling into existence a spinning wall of silvery blades, bisecting the top of the shaft with it and destroying hundreds of the formicates.  Sepoto began backing away from the mouth of the well and heard Mandi’s voice behind him, the guttural words to a spell falling rhythmically from her lips.  A dense fog began to coalesce within the well, obscuring the oncoming horde.  Then, Marius snapped his finger, tossing a small flame over the rim, and laughing as it exploded, sending flames high into the air.  Incredibly, the ants still came, spilling out of the top of the well like a single creature.  Now Daelric and Marius began unleashing blast after blast of fire on the swarm, but still they came, closing on Sepoto.  To his horror, they parted their mandibles and spat at him, the acidic fluid congealing into a large glob which hissed and sputtered as it struck his breastplate.  Cursing, he continued to back away from the oncoming tide until finally, under the withering barrage from the wizard and the priest, the last of the vermin was roasted to ash.

For several long moments the group stood silently around the well, gazing down into the darkness.  Everyone feared what awaited them below, yet they had no choice.  Sepoto felt the pull of his tooth’s original owner, and his own trepidation was multiplied ten-fold.  Finally, Mandi spoke.  
“There’s no point in delaying this any further.  Our goal lies below.”  
Then, the angelic form she wore spread its wings and she glided down into the darkness.  One by one the others followed, each using their own form of flight.  Sepoto went last, and as he passed the lip of the well, the mosaic unfolded itself once more, sealing the top of the shaft shut again…


----------



## Ika_Greybeard

Great update Man does Sepoto have a Toothache   


Quick question to our group or any readers of the story hour. Does anyone have a link to the download of all the manuevers from TOB in pdf format? I have searched that evil site (wotc) and cannot find it. If anyone does could you please link it I would be much appreciated.


----------



## Mort

Ika_Greybeard said:
			
		

> Great update Man does Sepoto have a Toothache
> 
> 
> Quick question to our group or any readers of the story hour. Does anyone have a link to the download of all the manuevers from TOB in pdf format? I have searched that evil site (wotc) and cannot find it. If anyone does could you please link it I would be much appreciated.




here you go. And of course love the story hour!


----------



## Dax Thura

*Getting caught up*

I'm just starting to read this story hour and would like to 'look ahead' to find out who's dead and who's still going. The next time you update, would you please list whether a character is an active member of the Legion, inactive, or dead? PS: I am loving this so far.


----------



## JollyDoc

Dax Thura said:
			
		

> I'm just starting to read this story hour and would like to 'look ahead' to find out who's dead and who's still going. The next time you update, would you please list whether a character is an active member of the Legion, inactive, or dead? PS: I am loving this so far.




There is some problem with ENWorld that will not allow me to edit my very first post (to change the update date, etc).  So, I'll try and give you the info now, but others who are new readers beware:  spoilers follow!!























































































Thrisp Doogal:  deceased
Samson Searanno:  deceased
Ferox Deepdelver:  deceased
Sepoto:  alive and well...for now...
Basil:  Deceased
Xerxes:  Deceased
Marius:  alive, inactive, now active again
Anwar:  alas, deceased
Gregor:  deceased
Tower Cleaver:  alive, active
Daelric:  alive, active
Ozymandia:  alive, active
Octurus:  alive, faceless, active

I think that covers it for now.


----------



## JollyDoc

1)  The Legion deals 'handily' with the keepers of Ahazu

2)  Sepoto finally meets the owner of his tooth face-to-face, and a pact is made with far-reaching ramifications

3)  The group journeys to the well of Shami-Amourae, only to find it guarded by some kindly fellow who take a liking to a certain elven sorceress.

4)  Shami-Amourae is freed, but she's not exactly brimming with gratitude.

5)  Sepoto gets a one-way ticket home.

6)  Demogorgon ain't just gonna let his ex walk away scott-free.  A contingency plan leads to chaos when all of the Legionnaires can't remember what in the world they came to the Wells of Darkness for in the first place....

7)  Bonus:  An epilogue that no one saw coming, not even my players!!!!


----------



## Schmoe

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 1)  The Legion deals 'handily' with the keepers of Ahazu
> 
> 2)  Sepoto finally meets the owner of his tooth face-to-face, and a pact is made with far-reaching ramifications
> 
> 3)  The group journeys to the well of Shami-Amourae, only to find it guarded by some kindly fellow who take a liking to a certain elven sorceress.
> 
> 4)  Shami-Amourae is freed, but she's not exactly brimming with gratitude.
> 
> 5)  Sepoto gets a one-way ticket home.
> 
> 6)  Demogorgon ain't just gonna let his ex walk away scott-free.  A contingency plan leads to chaos when all of the Legionnaires can't remember what in the world they came to the Wells of Darkness for in the first place....
> 
> 7)  Bonus:  An epilogue that no one saw coming, not even my players!!!!




That whole bit about an "epilogue" sounds pretty ominous.  Let's hope it was an epilogue to the session, and not the campaign!


----------



## JollyDoc

Schmoe said:
			
		

> That whole bit about an "epilogue" sounds pretty ominous.  Let's hope it was an epilogue to the session, and not the campaign!




Ominous?  Yes!  Campaign ending?  Not quite...well, at least not THIS campaign


----------



## Hammerhead

Tilly vs. Adimarchus?


----------



## JollyDoc

MEMORIES

Slowly the six companions descended into the lightless depths of the well of Ahazu.  Mandi and Daelric had paused after the top of the pit had resealed to dab their eyes with a thick unguent.  A few magical phrases later and both of them could see as clearly as if they were under the light of a full moon.  Far below, both of them could make out a faint shimmering across the shaft.  As they descended lower, their allies behind them, they soon saw that there were in fact three such areas, each subsequent one ten feet below the previous.  They were force walls.
“It would appear we are expected,” Mandi commented.
Below the third barrier, a large, glossy black pool rippled in the center of a wider space.  In the ring surrounding it were stacked hundreds of books, scrolls and stone tablets.  Interspersed among these were strange perches made of bones, upon which rested three varrangoin.  These were different than their savage kin the company had encountered above, however.  For one, the membranous skin of their wings hung in tatters, revealing yellow bone beneath.  Second, their mouths were gaping, black pits which seeped sooty smoke.  They gazed up at the intruders with dead eyes, their taloned hands clenching and unclenching.
“Can you take down two of these walls?”  Mandi asked Marius as she hovered above the barriers.
“Of course,” the warmage replied.  “Just tell me when you’re ready.”  
“Now,” the sorceress replied as she unleashed a blast of verdant power, causing the first wall to flare and then wink out of existence.  Immediately, Marius followed with two blasts of his own, causing the two remaining walls to fail as well.  No sooner had their wards vanished than the varrangoin liches unfurled their wings, screeching as they rose from their perches.  
“Settle down, boys,” Mandi chuckled, summoning her magic once more.  Behind two of the varrangoin, large, disembodied, glowing hands materialized and then reached out to seize the creatures.  As the third turned to see what had befallen his brothers, another green ray flashed from Mandi, reducing him to a pile of ash in the blink of an eye.
Try as they might, the other varrangoin could not free themselves, nor could they speak the words to their own powerful spells as the crushing hands would not allow them to draw breath.  Then Sepoto was among them, slashing and smashing with his chain until both of the undead were reduced to barely recognizable heaps of flesh and bone.

No sooner had the goliath crusader struck his final blow than his attention was immediately drawn to the dark pool at the bottom of the well.  It called to him and pulled at him.  Unconsciously, he took a step towards it.
“What are you doing?”  Mandi’s voice broke the spell for a moment.
“Ahazu,” Sepoto answered.  “He’s here.  I think I can speak with him, but I have to touch the pool.”
Mandi considered this for a moment before nodding.  “It’s your choice, but I don’t think we have many other options.  The Forbidding that surrounds this place prevents us from teleporting out.  We’re trapped and we still don’t have the answers we came for.  On the other hand, this may all be some sort of ploy to entrap you as well.  Your choice, as I said.”
This time is was Sepoto’s turn to consider, and after several seconds, he nodded as well and knelt beside the pool.  As he cautiously reached towards its surface he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.  The disembodied hands that Mandi had conjured were now positioned on either side of the pool and each one of them had their fingers crossed.
“Funny,” the goliath grumbled as he touched the pool.  Instantly the black liquid extruded dozens of tendrils that writhed and clambered up his arm, rooting him in place.  As he gazed down into the black depths he could see a dark-skinned, naked humanoid shape with bat wings, an elongated head, and long, thin arms.  His legs trailed away into nothingness and his skin was smooth and devoid of obvious features.  His face was dominated by a mouth filled with hundreds of needle-sharp fangs and his sunken eyes seemed to almost have withdrawn into his skull.
‘Why have you disturbed my slumber?’ the voice of Ahazu the Seizer spoke into Sepoto’s mind, his words ringing with the cold, lonely emptiness of the void.
‘We are enemies of Demogorgon,’ the goliath replied, ‘and we have come here seeking information on how to best assure his destruction.’
‘The so-called Prince of Demons does not concern me,’ Ahazu replied.
‘We do not ask for your direct aid in this,’ Sepoto answered.  ‘We wish to speak with Shami-Amourae.’
‘The Lady of Delights is mine,’ Ahazu stated matter-of-factly.
‘Is there no way you would even let us communicate with her briefly?’ Sepoto asked.  For several moments, silence was his only answer, then:
‘For me to free Shami-Amourae, you must provide me with one of equal power to take her place.’
Sepoto didn’t hesitate.  ‘Demogorgon,’ he offered.  ‘It is our intention to destroy him.  When we have done so, we will bring him to you.’
‘So be it!’ Ahazu responded immediately.  ‘I grant you sixty and six days from this moment.  Before the end of that period, you must bring Demogorgon here, dead or helpless.  If you fail to fulfill your bargain, then I shall take you and your companions in payment instead.  Do you agree to the pact?’
Sepoto nodded.  ‘I do.’
The imprisoned demon lord chuckled menacingly and the air in the pit seemed to drop in temperature by several degrees.  Fog wafted up from the surface of the pool, whirling and cavorting and eventually drifting towards Sepoto.  It shrouded his hands and he felt something heavy settle into them.  A moment later the fog cleared and he saw that he was holding a large tome.
‘This book has a long history with Shami-Amourae’s cult,’ Ahazu said.  ‘It was in the possession of her high priest for many years, a man named Hadonis.  It has only one page left and contains only one spell.  When this spell is cast while standing at the edge of Shami-Amourae’s well, she will be freed from her imprisonment.’
Abruptly, Sepoto felt the telepathic link with the Seizer break, leaving only a lingering soft chuckle in his mind.
“Do you mind telling us what that was all about?”  Mandi asked as Sepoto gazed silently down at the book that he held.
“We can free her now,” he replied, “but I sort of had to make a promise…”


----------



## JollyDoc

“This library is worth a fortune,” Marius mused as he casually perused the assortment of books stacked haphazardly around Ahazu’s well, most of which focused on the mysteries of the Abyss, with a particular focus on dead and forgotten demon lords.  
“I suppose,” Mandi said, boredom in her voice as she flipped open a couple of the tomes.  “There’s really nothing new here, though.”
“Easy for you to say,” Marius sneered.  “Most of us haven’t lived several hundred years, studying the minutiae of the multiverse.”
“Is that jealousy I hear, my little…”  The sorceress’s voice trailed off.  Marius glanced up to see her standing in front of a lectern which bore a thick libram bound in brass with a cover of deep purple leather.  A clasp shaped like a three-fingered demonic hand held the covers tightly shut.  Slowly, almost reverently, Mandi unlatched it and opened the book.  A moment later she gasped, her hands covering her mouth.
“What?”  Marius asked sharply.  “What is it?”
“It…it’s a copy of the Demonomicon…”  Mandi said quietly.
“You mean Iggwilv’s Demonomicon?”  Marius asked, suspicion in his voice.
“Do you know of another?”  Mandi snapped.
“That’s not possible,” the gnome said dismissively.  “The Seekers have accounted for all six copies.”
“Which means this is a seventh,” Mandi said, letting the implications of the statement sink in.  
“But…,”  This time it was Marius who was at a loss for words.  “…if that’s true, do you realize what this means?  Do you realize how valuable it would be?”
“Of course I do,” Mandi replied, wrapping the book up in her cloak.  “To the right people, its value could very well be immeasurable.  Now, let’s pack up the rest of these and get moving.”

When the company retraced their flight up the well’s shaft, they found the opening had parted once more.  As soon as they exited, it resealed itself again, leaving the mosaic just as they had found it.  It didn’t take long for Mandi to identify Shami-Amourae’s sigil on one of the wells, and she estimated it to be no more than a half-mile from Overlook.  The group took their leave of the fortress and Mandi transported them once again to the marble path between the wells.  Following her directions, they soon reached the large clearing which held the Well of Debased Eros.

As they neared the shaft, they could hear howls and shrieks of anger and hunger echoing up from the well’s depths.  As they peered over the edge, they saw a canopy of trees some forty feet below which blocked sight of the well’s bottom.  The trees were strangely verdant, heavy with bright red and purple fruits and colorful flowers.  An intoxicating scent of exotic perfume rose up from the hole, but underlying the pleasant odor was the smell of animal droppings and rotted flesh.
“Sepoto, you and Cleaver come with me,” Mandi instructed.  “Marius, you, Daelric and Octurus wait here.  When we find out what’s down there, and whether or not it’s dangerous, I’ll contact you telepathically and tell you where to unleash Hell.”

The trio drifted down through the top third of the shaft until they reached the upper branches of the canopy.  The dense foliage required them to abandon their flight and climb from that point.  They had descended a dozen or so more feet, when the branches and leaves below them began to shake violently, and a shiver went through the tree trunks.  Suddenly, four massive creatures, easily fifteen-feet tall each, brachiated up from the darkness below.  They resembled nothing-so-much as oversized, black-furred girallons, and Tower Cleaver’s hackles rose when he saw them, remembering the months he had spent trapped in the Temple of the Celestial Winds.  Strangely, they did not immediately attack.  Instead, all four of them pointed at Mandi, making gestures, punctuated with grunts and hoots that made it all too clear what it was they desired.  Mandi’s face wrinkled in disgust.
“Pigs,” she spat, and then waved her hand.  Instantly the air around them was filled with a maddening cacophony of hissing and whispering.  The demonic apes clapped all four of their hands to their ears, struggling vainly to drown them out.  Then, one-by-one, each of them curled into itself, collapsing among the branches into fetal positions.
“They’re all yours, boys,”  Mandi said.  “I’m going on to the bottom.  Meet me there when you’re finished.”
‘Marius,’ she called through their telepathic link, ‘you may fire at will.’


----------



## JollyDoc

Mandi emerged from the lower branches of the trees some twenty-feet above the bottom of the well.  Above her, she could hear concussive blasts and the sound of metal striking meat as her companions went about their wet work.  A crashing sound directly above caused her to look up just as the severed head of one of the girallons tumbled past her.  She had to admire Octurus.  He was a surgeon with his blades when he wanted to be.  Then, however, her gaze was drawn below once more.  Another black pool lay at the bottom of the shaft, identical to the one they had seen in Ahazu’s well, save for the gargantuan spider that crouched atop it like a water-walker.  It was a retriever, but larger than any Mandi had ever seen before.  It was completely motionless, seemingly oblivious to her presence.  
“I’m not sure what you’re up to,” she muttered, “but I know a guardian when I see one.”
With a flick of her wrist, she sent green fire at the demonic construct, and where it struck, large pieces of the spider’s carapace simply evaporated.  In a flash, the retriever was in motion, blasts of fire, ice and electricity pulsing from its multi-colored eyes.  Simultaneously, it reached out with its cleaver-like forelegs, ripping at Mandi’s robes.  The sorceress ignored the energy beams as if they were mere raindrops.  The wards she had woven about her made her impervious to such trivial nuisances, and the wounds the retriever inflicted were superficial thanks to the diamond-hard toughness of her magically dense skin.  As the creature raged and flailed about her, she gestured again, this time sending a barrage of force-bolts at its eyes.  With an almost mechanical squeal, it rolled onto its back, its legs curling inward in its death throes.

Several minutes later, Mandi, Sepoto and Tower Cleaver stood around the pool in silence.  Octurus, Marius and Daelric waited above in case any more guardians should appear.  Mandi flipped open the spell book Ahazu had provided and began reading the spell from the last page.  When she was done, the page turned automatically and the surface of the pool began to ripple.  Slowly, a stunning, statuesque woman with flawless pale skin and long golden tresses began rising from the depths.  Her angelic form was marred by the wanton, lustful pout of her smile, the all-consuming hunger that lurked within her eyes, the large bat wings that unfurled from her back, and the writhing tail that coiled around one leg.  She stretched languidly and then looked around as if establishing her bearings.  When she noticed the trio watching her, her expression transformed into joy, but then just as suddenly went slack.  It was only then that the three companions noticed something else:  a writhing snake protruded from Shami-Amourae’s neck.  It had wrapped itself twice around like a necklace, and its hissing face reared up from behind the succubus’s head.  
“You shall not have this prize!” it shrieked in a high-pitched voice.  “I shall use her to destroy your bodies, and I shall send your souls back to Shattered Night forever!”
Mandi drew in a sharp breath as recognition dawned on her.  The serpent was a chokesnake, a fiendish symbiote created in Demogorgon’s Abyssal laboratories, crafted from a snake’s head severed from a molydeus demon.  They were designed to guard their hosts, preventing them from acting contrary to Demogorgon’s will.  Worse, they could draw upon the all the abilities of the host, including their defenses and their supernatural powers.  This was not good.  As she took in the situation, Sepoto began whirling his chain.
“No!”  Mandi shouted.  “Don’t hit Shami-Amourae!”
“Who do you think you’re talking to here?” the crusader snapped.  “Tower Cleaver?  I know what I’m doing!”
With that, he snapped his chain out, the spiked tip deftly slicing into the choksnake’s flesh, but not even scratching Shami-Amourae.  The serpent shrieked again, but it was the succubus who raised her arms, gesturing absently at the goliath.  A wave of dark power swept across the bottom of the shaft.  Mandi barely felt it, but knew the blasphemous invocation for what it was.  Tower Cleaver was bowled head-over-heels and lay stunned against the well wall, while Sepoto…simply vanished.  Mandi knew instantly what had happened.  The spell had banished the goliath back to the Prime.  He could literally be anywhere on Toril, but she didn’t have time to worry about that.  Shami-Amourae was preparing to strike again.  Following Sepoto’s lead, Mandi loosed a fusillade of force bolts, each one striking the chokesnake unerringly.  As the last one struck home, the serpent collapsed, lolling lifeless across Shami-Amourae’s shoulders.  The succubus dropped to her knees in a daze, and then, with a scream of anguish, she tore the snake from her neck, threw it to the ground and crushed its head with her heel as she rose.  

As the Lady of Debased Eros gathered her wits about her, Octurus and Marius joined Mandi at the bottom of the well, the former moving to help Cleaver to his feet.  Once Shami-Amourae had composed herself, she lifted her chin in disdain.
“Who are you?” she asked haughtily.  “I suppose you deserve some gratitude for freeing me from my prison, but I’m certain you did not do so out of the kindness of your hearts.”
“You are correct, my lady,” Mandi replied courteously.  “Though perhaps you will think better of us when you’ve heard our tale.  We learned of your predicament while visiting Divided’s Ire.”
Shami-Amourae tensed at this, but said nothing, instead nodding for Mandi to continue.
“Your former paramour has put into motion a fiendish plan meant to strip our world clean of life as we know it.  We’re not sure about his reasons, except that the so-called Savage Tide that he intends to unleash will provide him with great power of some sort.  We were told that you might have reason to wish Demogorgon ill will, and that you might be inclined to assist us in our quest to destroy him.”
Shami-Amourae began to smile coldly, but before she could speak, a great and thunderous boom tore through the air above.  Though his companions in the well could not see it, Daelric looked up to behold a swiftly spreading rift of darkness opening in the sky.  A moment later, a torrent of dark water began to cascade from the rift, raining down into the well as if a great waterfall had suddenly appeared in the heavens.  The spray from the deluge washed over Daelric, and far below the full force of the flood struck Marius, Cleaver and Shami-Amourae, knocking them prone in the quickly deepening pool that was filling up the well.  Only Mandi and Octurus managed to leap free of the waterfall, plastering themselves against the well wall.  As the sorceress stared in shock at the water, she noticed a faint, green haze surrounding and emanating from it…a dimensional lock.  They were trapped once more.  Quickly she leaped into the air above Shami-Amourae, extending her hand to the succubus.
“Come with me if you want to live!” she shouted, then telepathically to the others, “The rest of you, get out of here as quickly as you can!”
She heard Daelric’s confused voice reply:  ‘What…what’s going on?’
‘Sepoto’s been banished!’ Mandi replied.  ‘We have Shami-Amourae and we’re coming up!  Get ready to get out of here as fast as possible!’


----------



## JollyDoc

What Mandi could not know at that moment was that the water was far from ordinary.  It was in fact a spring from the river Styx, the River of Death whose very touch could cause insanity.  As it was, when Daelric, Marius, Cleaver and Shami-Amourae had been struck by it, they had only suffered mild amnesia, forgetting everything that had happened in the previous eight hours.  As Daelric pondered Mandi’s reply, his mind could not grasp their meaning.  The last thing he remembered was being aboard the Sea Wyvern.  They had been discussing the logistics of traveling to Pazunia to speak with someone named Red Shroud.  Now he was standing at the edge of a pit, alone, with water pouring from the sky and Mandi was babbling something about having the former Queen of Succubi in tow.  To make matters worse, four more retrievers clambered out of the rift in the sky and dropped slowly to the ground.  Each of them carried a hooded howdah on its back, and within these rode bar-lgura demons, each of them clutching a longbow.  

Shami-Amourae was far from clear on the events around her as well.  She remembered the eternity of Shattered Night, tortured by the silent whispers in her head, and then she was free, lying on the ground beside her former prison, water from the sky pouring down around her, a flying elf woman hovering above her babbling something about salvation.  Hesitantly, the succubus held out her hand, and the elf seized it and began rising rapidly into the air.

Marius sat up in the rising pool of water, totally confused.  Was that Mandi hovering above him, not to mention Octurus and Tower Cleaver standing nearby?  He’d been in Broken Reach just a few moments ago, preparing to attend Red Shroud’s court where he knew his former adventuring companions would soon be arriving.  Now he was at the bottom of a well with three of those same companions, and he was being told to flee for his life before he drowned.  What kind of sorcery was this?  Still, self-preservation was indeed an instinct the gnome mage possessed, and he pushed all other concerns aside, instead weaving a flight spell about himself and rising aloft with Mandi.  

Octurus, meanwhile quaffed another potion which would carry him to safety, watching a bewildered looking Tower Cleaver do the same.  The demon hunter had avoided the touch of the Styx, just as Mandi had, but as he began to rise, the perilous waters lapped around his legs and his mind grew foggy.  High above now, Mandi also felt the spray of the fall against her skin, and in that instant, she thought she’d gone mad.  She found herself floating in mid-air, above a tree canopy that grew out of deep shaft below her.  A succubus clung to her left hand, while above she could see monstrous spiders with demonic riders scuttling around the lip of the well.  
‘What in the Hell’s is going on here?’ she called telepathically, assuming her companions would be linked to her, as they usually were.
‘What happened to the Sea Wyvern?’
For a moment there was no reply, then she heard Octurus’s voice first:  
‘I was just about to ask the same thing.’
Then Cleaver’s:
‘Moo?’
Then Marius…Marius?  What was that coward doing here?
‘I wish someone would explain it all to me too!’
Last, Daelric:
‘Umm…I’ll tell you what you just told me,’ the cleric replied.  ‘You said Sepoto’d been banished and you had Shami-Amourae.  You should we should get out of her fast.’
‘Sepoto banished?’ Mandi wondered.  What did that mean?  Shami-Amourae?  She looked down at the succubus again, whose own eyes looked as bewildered as her own.  
‘Never mind’ she barked back through the link.  ‘We’ll figure this out later!  For now, kill anything that gets in your way and get the Hell out of here!’

Mandi and Shami-Amourae cleared the lip of the well first, a spell on the sorceress’s lips and fire in her hand as she blasted one of the retrievers out of existence, sending its rider tumbling to the ground.
“I’m certain you’re acquainted with these constructs,” she said to the succubus as they landed several dozen yards away from the nearest retriever.  “So if you’re wondering whether or not you can trust me, and whether you might just be better off on your own, remember that they can track you down anywhere in the universe.  They’re here for you, not us, so it would be in your own best interest to stick around for awhile.”
With that, Mandi spoke the words to another dweomer, transforming her body into that of a massive pit fiend, and stepped between Shami-Amourae and the bar-lgura, who were already drawing their bows.
“Nice look, sweetie,” the succubus smirked, “but I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”
She turned towards the unmounted demon, still climbing to his feet, puckered her lips and blew a sultry kiss in his direction.  The bar-lgura went rigid for a moment, and then, when Shami-Amourae crooked a finger at him with a come-hither smile, he came, like a well-heeled hound.

Octurus and Marius were the next pair out of the pit, just in time to witness Mandi avasculate a bar-lgura, trapping its mount in the disgusting web of blood vessels.
“I hate it when she does that,” Octurus grumbled.
At that moment, a brilliant flare of light illuminated the courtyard as Daelric appeared, wreathed in holy fire, and hurled it at one of rider/mount pairs.  He was rewarded for his bravery by a sizzling bolt of electricity in his back as another retriever unleashed the deadly power of its eyes.  Its rider relied on more mundane weapons, but the pair of arrows that sprouted from the priest’s thigh seemed just as effective.

The battle raged on, with spells flying as well as arrows and energy bolts.  Shami-Amourae thinned the field further by luring a second bar-lgura to her side, while a one-two combo of disintegration rays and scimitars, courtesy of Octurus and Marius, neutralized its mount.  The demon hunter then triggered one of his many tattoos, pouncing on a second retriever and reducing it to pieces in a matter of seconds.  Mandi took down the last retriever with her bare hands, the pit fiend’s claws ripping through the spider demon’s thick carapace as if it were rice paper.  The last two bar-lgura refused to flee and continued to pepper the Legionnaires with arrows, knowing full well what reward failure would bring them.  In the end, their fate was only slightly improved as they died quickly at the swords and claws of Mandi and Octurus.

The water from the rift had filled the Well of Debased Eros by that time, and was overflowing into the courtyard and the surrounding ground, quickly forming a small lake.  Mandi quickly turned to Shami-Amourae and told her tale a second time, though for both of them, it was the only time they remembered.  When she’d finished, Shami-Amourae placed one hand on her shapely hip and quirked her mouth in an evil smile.
“There is nothing I desire more than to see my former lover and my sister, his whore, suffer for their betrayal of me.”
Mandi held her tongue from stating that the succubus had brought their wrath upon herself by betraying Demogorgon in the first place.
“So I will tell you something that might be of importance to you,” Shami-Amourae continued, “but then I’m leaving, and you are on your own.”
Mandi nodded her understanding, and the succubus began to speak at length.
“Demogorgon is his own worst enemy.  He is, in many ways, two creatures that share the same body.  Aameul, his left head, is the more charismatic and calculating, while Hethradiah, his right head, is more impulsive and feral.  Each views the other as inferior, and each believes the other incapable of outfoxing itself.  It’s really rather cute, after a fashion.  It certainly makes it easy to manipulate him, by playing Aameul off of Hethradiah, and vice versa.
Both of his heads have long sought ways to achieve dominance over the other.  Even before they betrayed me, Aameul and Hethradiah had hatched independent plans to take control.  Aameul’s was to murder Hethradiah and use the life energy of the Bastion of Unborn Souls to cauterize the wound.  I always had my doubts as to whether that would work, and ultimately, Aameul’s plans were foiled by a band of meddlesome adventurers.  Hethradiah’s plan is much more insidious.  He intended to seed dozens of Material Plane cities with madness…he called it a savage tide.  The resulting eruption of insanity could then be siphoned into Gaping Maw, where he could use the energy to absorb Aameul.  In effect, Aameul wanted to shed his unwanted half, while Hethradiah wants to absorb it.  A much stronger plan.  I always did like him better.
If you seek to oppose him, take warning:  Demogorgon is not one to be trifled with…even I wasn’t able to deceive him for long.  What hope do you think you have?  No…if you want to even have a chance at stopping him, you need to distract him.  That is Demogorgon’s weakness.  Each situation he faces brings two reactions, not one.  And when faced with multiple dangers across multiple fronts, these reactions can paralyze him.  I’ve seen it before, on a small scale as he’s been forced to deal with uprisings and invasions.  I quiver to think how he’d react to something on a larger scale…say, perhaps, an invasion of Gaping Maw by the armies of multiple enemies at once?
In any event, I need to be away from this place, to go into hiding before he tries for me again.  I have much to rebuild.  I’ve no interest in tangling with Demogorgon again soon.  Perhaps ever.  But if you feel suicidal, I’d suggest consulting someone who knows more than I do about the Abyss.  Someone like that tart, Iggwilv, perhaps?”

Shami-Amourae then turned on her heel, walking towards the edge of the courtyard, her bar-lgura slaves in tow.  When she reached the marble path, she turned back, her eyes on Marius.
“Perhaps you want to accompany me, aid me in rebuilding my empire?  Ah, but I see you already bear the mark of another.  Some other time, perhaps?”
Then they simply vanished.  No sooner had this happened, than another, more sinister form appeared in the growing lake of the redirected River Styx.  Emerging from the mist and vapor churned up from the turbid, dark waters, was a long skiff, propelled along by a gaunt figure.  As the skiff and its occupant approached, an almost palpable aura of menace preceded him…
______________________________________________________________

Sepoto sat in a tavern in one of the small hamlets of Ten Towns, located in far northern region of Faerun called Icewind Dale.  Across from him sat a heavily muscled, blonde-haired barbarian.  An impressive looking warhammer leaned against the table.
“So,” the goliath said, lifting his tankard, “you were telling me about this drow and his scimitars…”


----------



## JollyDoc

This one's for you G!!  





EPILOGUE

Shami-Amourae sighed in relief as she took in the surroundings of her safe house.  It was good to be home.  She paused in front of one of the numerous mirrors that adorned the walls, preening her hair in its reflection.  Suddenly, her eyes narrowed as she stared at the odd scar in the center of her forehead.  Then, before her disbelieving gaze, the scar split in two, revealing a third eye staring back at her.  A moment later, Shami-Amourae’s mind was shattered forever.

Entropy took in her new form admiringly.  ‘Not half bad,’ she thought, though truly, she no longer cared much about external appearances.  Indeed, she had vastly more important things on her mind.  Her plan, which had begun so long ago, was about to come to fruition.  For a moment, she allowed her memories to carry her back to the Bastion of Unborn Souls…the Bastion of Broken Souls, as it had been known at that time, when she had learned of Aaemeul’s plan to rid himself of his other, perhaps better half.  This had led her in later days to research the Prince of Demons further and, with the near-limitless resources provided to her as the Chosen of the White Banshee, she had uncovered a second plan…Hethradiah’s plan.  

Time had passed as she had observed passively the events in the outside world.  She had witnessed the so-called Age of Worms with anticipation, hoping it signaled the beginning of Hethradiah’s Savage Tide, but it was not to be, and so she waited patiently.  Finally, when she saw that the time had truly come, she had set about putting the final stages of her plan into motion.  It had been nothing for her to learn of Shami-Amourae’s imprisonment in the Wells of Darkness, and less effort still for her to secure an audience with Ahazu the Seizer.  At first the demon lord had believed she was offering a prisoner exchange, her soul for that of the Lady of Delights.  Not so, she had told him.  Instead, she freely offered herself to the Seizer, asking only two things in return:  first, that she be imprisoned with Shami-Amourae, and second, that if it ever came to pass that she should be freed, then Ahazu would reward her with the one gift she knew he had in his power to grant, but had never given…the divine spark…the power of a god!  Ahazu had readily agreed, thinking her a fool, and that she would never have any hope of being freed, especially since no one would ever know of her imprisonment.  There was his crucial error.  Once she had sacrificed her life and her soul had joined Shami-Amourae’s in Shattered Night, it had been only the slightest of tasks for her to completely dominate the succubus queen, and merge her own consciousness with Shami-Amourae’s subconscious.  

Now she was free, and it was time to collect on her debt from Ahazu.  Then, she would laugh as she told the paltry demon lord what she had learned…what he had spent his entire miserable existence seeking…the secret of Shattered Night’s true nature.  It was a Portal…and not just any portal, oh no!  It was the one Portal she had been searching for ever since she had learned of the existence of the Far Realms.  Shattered Night was a direct conduit to the plane of madness, and with the power granted to her by Ahazu, Entropy would be able to open it.  Oh, it might well take years, decades even to accomplish the task, but she was nothing if not patient.  She chuckled to herself as she thought of the mortals that had inadvertently freed her scurrying about trying to stop Demogorgon’s dastardly scheme.  Perhaps they would live to see just how insignificant the Savage Tide truly was, when the new Goddess of Madness became ascendant…


----------



## Gli'jar

Great writing. I enjoyed reading both the Age of Worms and Savage Tide. I noticed reference to Entropy in both story hours, is there a third story hour I missed?


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## Hammerhead

Actually, there are four story hours: Gfunk's City of the Spider Queen + Bastion of Broken Souls story hour (where he played Entropy), then Jollydoc's Shackled City, Age of Worms, and Savage Tide. I should still have the PDFs of them, if you can't find them online.


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## Neverwinter Knight

Great update, JollyDoc. I'm glad Entropy's back and that you still keep her involved. I wonder what happened to Havok, though.  Please keep it up - whichever way this story hour is going! 

As for Sepoto's pledge to hand over Demogorgon, they are really playing "all or nothing", aren't they...

Just one thing:


> Try as they might, the other varrangoin could not free themselves, nor could they speak the words to their own powerful spells as the crushing hands would not allow them to draw breath.



The part about the breath drawing does not really apply to the liches.


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## killjoy68116

Excuse my ignorance, but in order to intone the somantic elements of their spells the Liches would still have to draw air into the lungs in order to then exhale the air past their rotting vocal cords right? Drawing breath in order to speak... or maybe it was, you know, creative license or somethin'

oh and the PDFs of ANY of the previous story hours would be awesome.


I'll sink back into the shadows now...


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## JollyDoc

The whole breath drawing things was artistic license for:  Bigby's Crushing Hand squeezed the crap out of them, preventing them from doing pretty much anything.

However, Killjoy does have a point.  A spellcasting liche must still be able to speak, and does not the power of speech impy the neccessity to draw breath?  Unless of course some supernatural component of undeath allows speech without breathing, in which case all undead should be capable of REALLY long run-on sentences....like this one


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## gfunk

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> This one's for you G!!




SWEET!!!  Evil gets an upgrade!

Links:
1. City of the Spider Queen + Bastion of Broken Souls + Lich Queen's Beloved
http://www.enworld.org/archive/index.php/t-33249.html

2. Shackled City
http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=85618


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## Joachim

gfunk said:
			
		

> 1. City of the Spider Queen + Bastion of Broken Souls + Lich Queen's Beloved
> http://www.enworld.org/archive/index.php/t-33249.html




Ahhh...Entropy v. Joachim.  The nostalgia comes back in a flood.  I have said it before, I will say it again...that campaign was pure EPIC (and not just in the +20th level sense).  I remember it with fondness.


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## Neverwinter Knight

Epic is right. What's up with Joachim, anyway? We haven't heared from him since Shackled City.

The only thing I missed from gfunk's SH was the resolving of the end of Lich Queen's Beloved. I didn't quite get what happened from where the party searches for the lich queen's phylactery and Amal sees either the lich queen or Entropy disguised as her on the throne to the epilogue, where Amal defeats Fzoul (which is not in the archive, btw). Maybe I missed something or am just a little slow, though.


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## gfunk

Amal defeating Fzoul is in our Shackled City Story Hour.  It is in the "Red Dawn" update under "Asylum."  Also, our reasons for not finishing Lich Queen's Beloved are on that page.  Briefly, we squashed Vlaakith easily the first time, we wanted to start Shackled City, and we had several new players who were not ready to start @ 21st level.


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## Neverwinter Knight

Thanks for clearing that up (again). When age comes, the mind goes...
Then I guess the only remaining question would be: Was it Vlaakith sitting on the throne or one of Entropy's pranks?


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## gfunk

It was a prank, of course.  Comedy gold!


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## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER

1.  For the small price of an apology, the Legion gets to go on Mr. Charon's Wild Ride

2.  This ride doesn't exactly end at Cinderella's castle...but they do find the home of a Queen.

3.  The company is reunited with some old friends, just before the castle watchdogs are sicced on them.

4.  Mandi takes a trip to tell Sepoto its closing time at the tavern and time to pay his tab

5.  Iggwilv's house is full of warm welcomes and Witch Queen impersonators.  The heroes follow a stray cat to the mistress's chamber, only to get caught up in the demonic wizard apprentice equivalent of a food fight.

6.  Finally, the Legion comes into the Presence Herself, where new insights are gained and new horizons opened.

7.  Daelric finally learns he really is evil after all.


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## Bryon_Soulweaver

If I remember correctly, didn't the warlock (what's his name?) talk to an extremely beautiful woman with a third on her forehead at the end of Age of Worms. . . .


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## gfunk

Yep, that would be Havok talking w/ Entropy.


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## JollyDoc

AN EVENING WITH THE WITCH QUEEN

Mandi recognized Charon, the ferryman of the dead, immediately, and she also knew that his presence here did not bode well.  As soon as he reached the shore of the new lake, some thirty feet from the Legionnaires, he spoke.  Though his voice was only a whisper, it was clearly audible over the gurgling water.
“What have you done to my river?”
Mandi was momentarily taken aback.
“Your pardon, Lord Charon,” she stammered, “but this was not our doing.  In fact, the touch of your river’s waters has robbed us of the knowledge of how we even came to be here.  I can tell you, however, that it was our intention to come here to free Shami-Amourae, which we have done, so that she could aid us in our quest to stop the Prince of Demon’s mad quest to unify his dual natures at the expense of our home world.  I believe the disruption of the River Styx is in fact Demogorgon’s doing in an attempt to stop us from speaking with the Lady of Delights.”
Charon pondered this for a moment, then nodded.
“I seriously doubt mortals such as yourselves would have the power to accomplish such a thing, and yet you still owe me an apology, for if you had never attempted to release Shami-Amourae in the first place, none of this would have happened.”
Mandi took this in, then looked at each of her companions in turn, nodding imperceptibly.
“We accept that responsibility,” she answered, “and we do indeed offer our most sincere apologies.”
“Apology accepted,” Charon replied.  “Now, if you wish, you may all come aboard and I will take you from this place so that we may speak further.”
For the second time in a matter of minutes, Mandi was shocked momentarily speechless.  A boat ride?  With Charon?  On the River Styx?
“Umm…certainly, and thank you,” she answered.  “May I ask a small boon of you first?”
The ferryman nodded slightly.
“Can you tell us how we might regain our memories?”
“Heal yourselves,” Charon replied, then waited patiently as they boarded his skiff.  As soon as they were ready, he turned to face the rift in the sky above and, with a wave of his staff, the flow of the stygian waters reversed.  Very quickly, the boat was swept up and through the fissure, which closed behind them.
________________________________________________________________

As it turned out, Charon was correct.  Once Daelric had woven his most powerful healing spell about each of them in turn, they found their amnesia was gone, their memories of the past eight hours coming back to them in a flood.  As soon as she was able, Mandi sent her thoughts out across the planes, questing for Sepoto.
‘Sepoto, if you can hear me, tell me your location.’
The reply was immediate, if somewhat slurred.
‘Icewind Dale…Ten Towns…a bar…’
Mandi knew that she would be able to retrieve the goliath, but the effects of the banishment would prevent his return to the lower planes for twenty-four hours.  His recovery would have to wait.

Without preamble, Charon began to speak.
“We are both Demogorgon’s enemies,” he began.  “If you would seek to oppose him, the parting words of the Lady of Debased Eros are wise.  You must recruit an army of his enemies.  The Prince of Demons has thousands of them, but only a few are capable of mounting a force to truly threaten him.  Assaulting Demogorgon alone, no matter how powerful you think you are, is suicide.  I should know.  I’ve taken enough of those fools to their rewards over the span of the mortal stain.”  
He paused as he shifted his boathook form one hand to the other.  As he did, the shores shifted and wavered as the Styx passed from one lower realm to the next.
“You need distractions and allies,” he continued.  “I know of some of his enemies…the Dark Prince, the Lord of Undeath, the Prince of Vermin, the Court of Stars.  Yet I know not which ones would make good allies, nor how one might secure their aid.  And again, the Lady’s words are wise, for there is one who does possess the information you seek.  As it happens, I know of the Witch Queen Iggwilv.  Few know where she lives these days, but I am one of these few.  I can take you to her home, but your negotiations with her are your own to forge.  Will you accompany me?”
The cloaked figure stood perfectly still, awaiting an answer.
“Yes, of course,” Mandi answered without hesitation.  “You have done us a great service this day, and we shall not forget it.”
Charon did not answer, but instead continued to pole the skiff along the dark, greasy waters.

Time passed as the boat moved quickly along, passing through dozens of landscapes of death, despair and ruin, each more depressing than the last.  Finally, after what might have been hours or days, they reached a dull and depressing place.  Mandi recognized it as Niflheim, one of the glooms of the Gray Wastes of Hades.  Ragged tors and cliffs lined one bank of the river, while the other stretched off into an endless swampy moor.  Gray mists writhed and twisted, obscuring the horizon, and the entire realm seemed devoid of color.  As Charon continued to pole along, vision through the fog dropped dramatically to no more than one-hundred feet.  Soon, a dark shape loomed before them, and as the skiff grew closer, it resolved into a welcome but unexpected sight…the Sea Wyvern!  The ship’s confused crew milled about on deck, unharmed but obviously baffled.  The ship itself was docked at a gray wooden pier that protruded from a rocky shore, beyond which a ledge lead up into the unseen mists above, along one of the looming cliff faces.  
“You have arrived at your destination,” Charon explained, “and I have brought your vessel for your use.  I grant you permission to ply my river as long as we share the same goals.”
As the skiff drew nearer still, Mandi could see that the wyvern figurehead of the ship bore Charon’s mark upon its face…a pair of gold coins affixed to its eyes.  The skiff pulled alongside the caravel, and the Legionnaires debarked to the shouted “Huzzah!” of the crew.  
“Iggwilv’s manor awaits at the top of this ledge,” Charon said.  “Tend to your crew first.  They won’t be happy when they realize where they’ve come to, and it would not be well for them to stay long here.  Take care on your approach.  The Witch Queen does not leave her grounds unguarded.  I must take my leave of your for now, but when you have gathered your army and are prepared for the assault, whisper in your ship’s figurehead’s ear and I shall return to aid you one last time.”
With that, Charon pushed off the Sea Wyvern’s hull with his pole and in the span of only a few seconds, he faded into the mist and was gone.


----------



## JollyDoc

The crew of the Sea Wyvern was indeed agitated and confused, but Daelric’s diplomatic reassurances gave them confidence that their services were once more vital to the cause, and that the Legion would stand ready to protect them as they had done before.  The young priest was just warming to his audience and preparing to deliver a truly inspiring soliloquy, when Tower Cleaver tapped him on the shoulder.  Irritated at the interruption, he turned sharply.
“What?”
“Who that?” the minotaur asked, pointing to the cliffside path.  When Daelric and the others looked in that direction, they all saw a wolf-headed humanoid figure approaching the pier, waving them off.  A moment later, the waters along the shore churned and frothed as two immense monsters, snakelike dragons with gray scales and long, thin snouts, surged up onto the shores to roar angrily, although it was unclear if they had taken offense at the intrusion of the Sea Wyvern or the wolf-headed man.  The creature himself wore fine robes and his ears were adorned with expensive rings.  
“You aren’t expected by Her Excellency,” he said loftily.  “If you value life, you will debark from here now, before her pets grow braver.  You are not wanted here!”
He didn’t wait for a response, instead signaling to the dragons with a flip of his hand before he vanished into thin air.

“Those creatures are linnorms,” Mandi said cautiously as she stepped towards the stern of the ship.  “I would advise any non-essential personnel to take cover…now!”
The crew didn’t need to be told twice.  Like rats, they scattered towards the gangways and into the bowels of the ship.  Daelric, seeming to think that Mandi meant him as well, spread his wings and took to the air, darting for cover behind the ship’s wheel deck.  
“Where’s everybody running to?”  Marius cried, laughing.  “The fun’s right here!”  
With a flourish of his hand, the warmage conjured a large, roiling cloud of smoke and fire, and sent it rolling towards the linnorms.  One of the dragons screeched as the searing embers landed on its hide, but the second seemed completely unaffected as it launched itself into the air, closely followed by its brother.  Ignoring the exposed figures on the ship’s deck, each of them circled behind the ship from either side, until both hovered above a suddenly terrified, cowering Daelric.  Then, as one, both of the behemoths drew in great breaths, and exhaled gusts of acidic water, showering the priest with the caustic sprays.

As Daelric screamed, Octurus launched himself towards the ships starboard side, where he could just reach one of the linnorms.  His scimitar whickered by, almost faster than the eye could follow, and drew a deep gash across the dragon’s brow, sending a great gout of blood gushing into its eyes, temporarily blinding the beast.  Meanwhile,  Mandi hurled magic at the second behemoth, tearing out its vasculature with a horrendous ripping sound.  With nothing to anchor it, the mass of blood vessels simply dropped into the river below with a sickening plop.  The linnorm howled in agony, twisting and turning in mid-air like a landed trout.  Then, in a flash, Mandi’s form morphed and shifted until she had assumed the shape of another linnorm.  With a deafening roar, she launched herself at the wounded dragon, ripping and tearing at it with her teeth and claws before delivering a devastating slap with her thick tail, snapping the brute’s neck with one blow.  It crashed to the water and was slowly carried away by the current.
The remaining linnorm, still pawing at its eyes, was an easy mark for Tower Cleaver and Octurus.  The pair hacked and slashed at it until, in desperation, it winked away in a flash of bright light, retreating to nurse its wounds.

“Some welcome,” Daelric said, still shaken as he tended his own wounds.  “Are we sure this is where we want to be?”
“We don’t have much choice,” Mandi replied.  “We need Iggwilv’s help in this if we want to have any hope of success.  This is not Elminster we’re visiting.  The Witch Queen may be testing us to see if we’re worthy to come before her presence.  While I think we’re up to the task, we’re not going any further without our full compliment.  All of you remain on the ship.  You’ll be safe here.  If you noticed, the linnorms didn’t actually attack anyone on board.  They only went for Daelric after he’d left the deck.  I think Charon’s protection is real, but we can count on the denizens of these planes to honor it to the exact letter and take advantage of any loophole they can find.  I’ll return shortly.”
_________________________________________________________________

Without further adieu, Mandi then opened a rift between Hades and the Prime, shunting herself back to her home plane with gut-churning suddenness.  When her vision cleared, she found herself in Tashluta, outside the Seeker’s hall.  Quickly, she entered, barging past the clerk at the front desk who gawked openly at her.  She made her way to the map room and riffled through the numerous bound parchments there until she found what she was looking for…a detailed cartography of Icewind Dale and Ten Towns.  Concentrating, she fixed the location in her mind, and vanished once more, this time reappearing in the frigid, biting air of Icewind Dale.  She stood outside a tavern called the Halfling’s Gem.  She entered, her sharp eyes scanning the room until she picked out the hulking form of the goliath in a corner booth nursing a large tankard of ale.  
“Enjoying ourselves, are we?” she said as she strode to the table and leaned over it.  
Sepoto nearly choked on his beer when he saw her, his eyes growing wide.
“I…wasn’t expecting you so soon,” he said.
“Yes, well, tempus fugit and all that,” she snapped, grabbing him by the wrist.  At a snap of her fingers a large, spatial rift opened in the middle of the bar, sending patrons running in all directions.  A ship was clearly visible on the far side, docked at an ancient pier amid thick fog clouds.  Mandi quickly stepped through, dragging Sepoto behind her…


----------



## JollyDoc

The ledge wound up the side of the cliff several hundred feet above the Styx.  At the top of the trail loomed the manor, a sprawling mansion of gothic eaves, spiked crenellations, and iron and darkwood wainscoting.  Demonic gargoyles leered from the corners of the roof, and a cold iron fence enclosed the immense structure.  The gates hung open in absent invitation.  Within, a few dead, leafless trees decorated the courtyard.  A short path, made of what appeared to be realistically carved, stone faces, led up the tall front doors.  Mandi glanced down at the path as they approached the house and realized that the faces were more than just realistic…they were real, chiseled off the bodies of individuals that had been magically petrified.  She kept this information to herself.

Octurus was the first to approach the entry portal, and at his knock, the doors swung silently open.  As he stared into the gloom beyond, trying to adjust his eyes, he saw something floating lazily towards him.  His hands were already on the hilts of his scimitars when he realized it was an envelope closed with wax bearing Iggwilv’s seal.  Plucking it from the air, he slid his thumb beneath the wax and unfolded the note within:

‘_My unexpected guests…I regret that I have been unable to meet with you to discuss matters of mutual interest, or that my pets may have caused you undue harm.
My researches require my full attention for another hour; please follow my cat and await me in the Demonhunter’s Room.  I will join you shortly.’
							IGV_

Just as he finished reading the letter, Octurus felt something brush past his leg.  Glancing down, he saw a glossy, black cat circling around his ankles.  It flicked its tail once and began padding down the hall.
“That’s no cat,” Daelric said in an aside to Mandi.  “My True Sight shows its real nature.  It’s that same creature that met us at the docks.”
“I’m well aware of that,” Mandi replied testily, having imbued herself with the same magic.  “But as the saying goes, ‘When in Waterdeep, do as the Waterdhavians.’

The polymorphed feline led them to a door on the left side of the hall, and then pushed it open with its nose.  The so-called Demonhunter’s Room (which Octurus liked the sound of) was a well appointed drawing room, its walls lined with shelves of books, a small niche containing a statue of a cowering vrock demon, a small domed ceiling covered in gold leaf high overhead, and four beautiful stuffed leather chairs.  One of those chairs floated three feet in the air, and there sat a woman with raven-black hair wearing a rich purple leather corset over a black robe.  Mandi noticed several things when she entered the room.  First, the woman in the chair was not real, but an illusion.  Second, three arcanaloths, for that’s what the wolf-headed creatures were, part of a demonic race called yugoloths, hovered invisibly near the ceiling.  Again, she kept her observations to herself, willing to play along with the ruse a little longer.
“My Lady,” the sorceress said, bowing.  “We have to come to beseech your aid in a matter of mutual concern.”
“Do not presume to know what does or does not concern me,” the woman answered.  “I care little, in fact, for the concerns of lesser beings.”
“Would it make a difference if we told you that a not-so-lesser Prince of Demons is hatching a plan to unify his two personalities?”  Mandi asked.
“Just the latest in Demogorgon’s mad schemes,” the lady replied.  “None of them have ever borne fruit in the past, so why should I worry about this one?”
“Charon and Shami-Amourae seemed to care,” Mandi said dryly.  
“Did I mention my opinion of lesser beings?” she answered.
“Very well,” Mandi acceded.  “Perhaps we are wasting your time after all.  But before we leave, I believe I have something that belongs to you.”
She reached into her haversack and pulled out the Demonomicon.

In a flash the arcanaloths were in motion, and Mandi shouted a telepathic warning to her comrades.  The demons were preparing to cast spells, but the elven sorceress was faster, and she hastily conjured a force wall beneath their feet.  When the lightning exploded from their hands, it struck the barrier and bounced harmlessly off.
“We don’t want to fight you!”  Mandi called.
“Speak for yourself,” Marius grumbled.
“We only wish to speak to your mistress!”  Mandi continued.
In response, the demons vanished.  Mandi sensed them teleporting, and thanked whatever powers might be listening that she wove her interdiction around her daily.
“We have about twenty seconds until they appear,” she snapped at the others.  “We’d best get ready.  Sepoto, Cleaver, Octurus, get up there and be ready.”
She cast as she spoke, creating a shimmering field of green energy in the area she knew the arcanaloths would reappear in…a dimensional lock to prevent them from teleporting again.
Once the three warriors had quaffed their individual potions and flew into the field, she turned to Marius.
“Lock them in,” she commanded.
The gnome nodded and created a second force wall beneath the trio.  When the demons reappeared, they would be trapped between the two barriers with a phalanx of steel and death awaiting them.

A moment later, the arcanaloths reappeared, but far from being taken by surprise, they snarled a challenge at the three warriors and then proceeded to erect their own force walls, sectioning off the area even further, leaving Tower Cleaver trapped behind two walls, while Sepoto faced off against one demon, and Octurus was left with the remaining two.  Then, in rapid succession, the fiends unleashed barrages of force missiles at the Maztican and the goliath.  
Meanwhile, down below, Mandi cursed roundly that her beautiful plan had not worked.  She quickly dismissed the lower force wall, and then conjured up a familiar pair of huge, disembodied hands.  One of them flew towards the pair of demons engaging Octurus and snatched one of them into its vice-like grip.  The second hand mirrored the maneuver with Sepoto’s opponent.  Octurus didn’t waste the opportunity.  Leaping at the grappled arcanaloth, he struck with the hilt of his scimitar, shattering the demon’s jaw.  Then, his blades went into a bewildering display of shining steel that ended with a long, looping cut that completely disemboweled the fiend.  

Mandi smiled mirthlessly, knowing she had neutralized the other constricted arcanaloth’s ability to cast spells, since its hands were bound.  That left only one to deal with.  For the second time in as many minutes, she was shocked and taken aback when both fiends bowed their heads in concentration, and then out of thin air, two more arcanaloth’s appeared!  No sooner had the new pair arrived, than their hands were in motion, weaving their magic.  Daelric sensed what was coming, and quickly countered one of the spells, but the other was already complete, and rippling lightning surged through the group, arcing from one to the next.  Both demons followed this by another bombardment of magic missiles, this time aimed at Mandi and Marius.
“That’s it!”  Marius shrieked.  “I’ve had enough of toying with these upstarts!”  
The little gnome virtually spat out the words to his spell, and as he spoke the last one, a wave of searing heat washed over the quartet of yugoloths, leaching the moisture from their skin with the force of its impact.  

At that point, the battlefield truly erupted.  Sepoto and Octurus continued to harry their opponents, with the Maztican slashing at the hamstring of his, while Sepoto settled for straight-forward bashing.  Meanwhile, the two new arrivals continued to saturate the party with chained bolts of lightning and magical force bolts.  
It was then that Mandi sensed something behind her, and as she turned, she saw Iggwilv materialize.  Only it was not Iggwilv, but another polymorphed arcanaloth.  The other demons, however, didn’t seem to realize this, as evidenced by their sudden halt of hostilities, and their pleas of mercy from their mistress.
“Be gone!” the new arrival said to the pair of fiends that had been summoned, and in an eye blink, they vanished.  
“Will you allow these other two to leave as well?” the creature asked Mandi.
“No,” the sorceress snapped, folding her arms across her chest. 
The disguised arcanaloth sighed, and took a seat in the floating chair.  
“Allow me to apologize for my brothers,” he said.  “They are fools and children in many ways.  And allow me to apologize for my deception.  I am not my Mistress.”
The beautiful female form wavered, and an instant later, the true form of the demon was seated in the chair.
“My name is Landerbold, and I am Her Excellency’s appointments minister.  She apologizes for the jealousy and enthusiasm you’ve been exposed to, and has asked me to inform you that you are free to leave, unharmed.  I give you my word no reprisals will be taken against you.”
“We’re not leaving here until we’ve had a chance to speak with your Mistress,” Mandi said, pointedly.  “We were brought here by Charon himself, on a mission of great urgency.  The Prince of Demons is preparing to make a bold and catastrophic move, and if he is not stopped, not even Iggwilv will be safe for long.”
Landerbold sighed again and nodded.
“All is well.  I assure you my mistress can meet with you.  She’ll understand about the bloodshed.  It was overdue…those fools needed a lesson in humility.  Gather at the top of the manor stairs in your best finery in one hour.  If you lack any fine garments, work up a glamour or something.  Her Excellency has discerning tastes, and shabby vagabonds rarely receive her help.  Oh, and one more thing:  keep your wands and weapons sheathed in Her Excellency’s presence.  She keeps demon lords as pets.  She’ll have no problem crushing you if you try anything stupid.  If you’re assassins, you’re incredibly foolish, and I look forward to seeing your deaths.”


----------



## JollyDoc

Precisely one hour later, the Legionnaires stood before a rune-carved doorway.  Mandi wore her couatl-skin gown, while Marius had used a minor prestidigitation to buff and shine everyone else’s armor to a high sheen.  Landerbold looked them over with a critical eye, and then led them through the door.
The room beyond had a domed golden ceiling and three windows that looked out on three different landscapes:  one was a view of the River Styx; one was a view of a gray and wind-swept city of demons; and the third was a lush tropical island…perhaps the Isle of Dread?  Sitting in the center of the room in another floating leather chair, and surrounded by floating books and disembodied whispers, was a woman with black hair and bright eyes.  A leering quasit perched protectively atop the chair’s high back just over the woman’s head.  Landerbold bowed deeply, then stepped into the shadows along the room’s walls.  For a moment, Iggwilv ignored her guests completely, then she pushed one of the floating books aside and muttered an incantation in something that sounded a bit like Abyssal, or perhaps something older.  She then waved the Legionnaires closer, and her chair descended until it floated only an inch off the floor.

“You seek my aid,” the Witch Queen said simply.  “What is it that vexes you so that you would risk death in securing my assistance?”
Mandi went to her knees and bowed until her head touched the carpet.  The others looked at one another and slowly followed suit…all save Sepoto and Tower Cleaver.  
“Your Excellency,” Mandi began, rising to her feet once more, “we have come to seek your advice on a matter of dire urgency.  The Prince of Demons seeks to increase his power in the multiverse, and we have come to stop him.”
Iggwilv looked bored.
“I was told you carry a copy of my book,” she said at length.
Mandi nodded and produced the Demonomicon.
“If you desire it, it is yours,” she said.
“It has always been mine,” Iggwilv replied, “but I thank you for retrieving it.”
Then she smiled, an expression at once seductive and terrifying.  She bade her guests to be seated in the nearby chairs.
“Now, you will tell me everything…”

Some time later, their tale recounted in painstaking detail, the six companions sat very still, waiting for Iggwilv’s response.  
“You are either very brave, or very foolish,” she said.  “In either case, I sense the capacity for greatness in each of you.  Had we met in a different time or under different circumstances, I would take action against you, crush you to paste and destroy all you hold dear before you could approach a point where you might be able to someday hurt me.  That day may yet come, I suppose, yet it is not today.  I will help you, but know that opposing the Prince of Demons is not an idle choice.  It is a choice that changes your life, your very existence, for what comes after.  Things will never be the same for you.  For me as well, I suspect.  And so, while I will aid you, each of you owes me.  I shall collect upon this debt at some point in the future, in a manner of my choosing, and if you refuse to honor our bargain, rest assured I’ll enjoy extracting my price from your undying souls.”
“Get in line,” Sepoto muttered under his breath.
Iggwilv smiled sweetly, waved a hand, and tall glasses of wine appeared before them.
“Now,” she continued, “let us begin.”
With another wave of her hand, she conjured up a low table with a chessboard of bone and obsidian inlaid in its surface.  The white pieces were carved in the likenesses of the Legionnaires and their allies, such as Lavinia.  The black pieces were forms that were both familiar and not to those watching.  One by one, Iggwilv began to pick up each black chess piece.
“Charon,” she intoned.  “I see that you’ve already begun.  Charon holds fresh rage for Demogorgon, and his position in the alliance is already secure.  Well done.”
She placed the figure back on the board on a white square, and as she did so, the piece turned white as well.
“Ahhh, dear old Graz’zt,” she said, removing another black piece.  “My Dark Prince.  Only one in the Abyss detests Demogorgon as much as he, but unfortunately, Graz’zt is…embroiled, I suppose is the word…elsewhere, with a certain Queen of Spiders.  Not that he’d be able to set aside his paranoia and ego long enough to join any alliance he hasn’t spearheaded.  I’m afraid you’ll find no aid here.”
She dropped the piece into her lap with a smile.
“Here, however, you’ll find a kindred spirit,” she said, removing a ram-headed figure.  “Orcus has had his share of troubles of late, and I dare say he may be open to the possibility of an alliance.  Be warned, though.  He does enjoy violence.”
She placed the piece on a white square, and it turned white as well.
Next, she picked up a piece carved to resemble an elven woman.
“Gwynharwyf, the so-called Whirling Fury.”  Octurus’s eyes lit up as he heard the name.  “This one you’ll have no problems gaining aid from, but you might find it difficult reaching her.  And even then, her lover Morwel keeps her on a short leash in matters relating to Demogorgon.  There was, shall we say, an incident several centuries ago.  But do a few favors and she’ll be all yours.”
She placed the piece on a white square.
Next came a piece resembling a beautiful succubus.
“Malcanthet,” the name was bitter in Iggwilv’s mouth.  “You may not realize it, but this vile slut’s been in the game for quite some time already.  Longer than any of the others, apart from Demogorgon.  Longer than you, in any event.  But she’ll play hard to get.  She might not be willing to donate an army, but I’m certain she’ll be willing to part with some of her charms if you ask nicely.”
Malcanthet joined the other white figures.
“I mentioned before that only one can match Graz’zt in his hatred of Demogorgon.  This would be the one.”
She picked up an insectile-looking piece.
“Obox-ob ruled the Abyss once, long ago, before I was even a sparkle in the eye of the cosmos.  He wants to rule here again, and while none of us particularly want that, he has his uses.  He can’t be reasoned with, but he can be trusted to act upon his hatred.  You’ll just need to determine a way to get him to where he’ll do the most damage.”
Obox-ob was then placed on a white square.  There were only two black pieces left on the board.  Iggwilv picked up one, a baboon-headed fiend.
“Bargromar.  This one you may not recognize, but he serves close to Demogorgon.  One of the twin generals of his armies, in fact.  I don’t expect you’d be able to defeat him, but I’ve heard some most delicious rumors that he’s a bit dissatisfied with his lot of late…a spot of jealousy about his twin brother, Tetradarian, I suspect.  And where’s there’s dissatisfaction, there can be dissent.  I’m not sure how you can use that to your advantage, but you secured this audience with me, which tells me that you’re smooth talkers and resourceful, if nothing else.”
She placed Bargromar on the last white space.  Only the piece representing Demogorgon himself remained.  Iggwilv picked it up, turned it over in her hand as she studied it, then set it back down on a black square surrounded by the white figures.  An eyebrow arched, and with a delicate finger, she tipped the piece over.
“Simple, no?”


----------



## carborundum

Brilliant! 

I was wondering how it feels for the players -  running around the planes and such, compared with how it all started; Sasserine (Tashluta), the pirates and the jungle etc. 
Has it all grown organically and logically? 

Jollydoc, was it hard to make it flow without it seeming too railroady 

My own players are starting Sea Wyvern's Wake next session, so it's a while before I have to worry about such things!


----------



## Joachim

Sometime this week I think that I am going to be posting an RP update for Mandi...tying up some loose ends and opening some new doors.

I am still looking forward to WarEagleMage's update on what the Hell (or Abyss?) that Marius was up to during his sabatical.


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Brilliant!
> 
> I was wondering how it feels for the players -  running around the planes and such, compared with how it all started; Sasserine (Tashluta), the pirates and the jungle etc.
> Has it all grown organically and logically?
> 
> Jollydoc, was it hard to make it flow without it seeming too railroady
> 
> My own players are starting Sea Wyvern's Wake next session, so it's a while before I have to worry about such things!




I've found throughout the AP that the next step often seems the "logical" step.  The group starts out as employees of Lavinia, doing her a service.  This grows into a more formal arrangement with their accompanying her to Farshore.  There the real story begins, with small wheels leading to bigger ones.  These two paths intersect when Lavinia is kidnapped by the very forces that are behind the Savage Tide, so once more, the choices seem logical and reasonable.  I haven't gotten a sense or rail-roading... more like guided logic.  I can't speak for my players, however, though I get the sense they are enjoying it and also enjoying weaving their own stories into the main one.  BTW, Enemies of My Enemy is my favorite chapter of the whole AP, and I think the players will get a real kick out of it.


----------



## demiurge1138

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> BTW, Enemies of My Enemy is my favorite chapter of the whole AP, and I think the players will get a real kick out of it.



No question, they will. Enemies of My Enemy is my favorite Savage Tide adventure too, and I don't think Wolfgang Baur's done better work before or since. His Iggwilv is genius.

Demiurge out.


----------



## WarEagleMage

I thought I would add my two cents on the AP issue.  Adventure Paths, by their very nature, are very different from regular campaigns in that they are a Path.  The path can easily become an interstate with no off ramps if the DM doesn't handle things well.  JollyDoc is very adept at keeping things interesting for the PCs.  That said, I think that this group of players has done a great job of defining their characters so that the DM can riff off individual character traits and personality conflicts, etc to provide lead-ins to the next chapter in the parth.  I ran Shackled City (for a group that included our favorite minotaur's player - and if memory serves, he may have recycled his PC's name from that one) and was very conscious of that fact.  The PCs should have some options, although everyone knows that it's not even remotely anything like a more traditional campaign.  As usual, it's up to the DM and the players to make it work.  That is the primary reason I brought Marius back to the mix: he _fit_, and because of that it made the whole thing work better.


----------



## gfunk

WarEagleMage said:
			
		

> That is the primary reason I brought Marius back to the mix: he _fit_, and because of that it made the whole thing work better.




Amen.

Though the fact that he kicks some serious ass probably didn't hurt.


----------



## Hammerhead

I'm surprised that at least half the group didn't go into some kind of combat withdrawal. "Less talk, more fight."


----------



## JollyDoc

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> I'm surprised that at least half the group didn't go into some kind of combat withdrawal. "Less talk, more fight."




Well, there was a moment, which I omitted (by oversight), where during the talking, TC decided to go and hang his head out the window that led to the Isle of Dread.  I'm not sure how I've been conveying it in the story hour, but TC's player, Dave, is really role-playing how much the Cleaver detests being on the Abyss and the lower planes.  This should really ramp up as EomE's progresses...


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Great Chapter, JollyDoc. And kudos to the players - I love the no-nonsense attitude of the Legion. 

Let's see how they fare in the rest of the module. Anwar might have really come in usefull at some point(s)...


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER

1)  The Legion sets sail for the Court of Stars

2)  Sepoto immediately makes an impression on the locals when he oils up for an old-fashioned 'rasslin' match.

3)  A (somewhat) familiar face makes a cameo

4)  Octurus gets to meet his Maker

5)  The Legion takes on Redfang, the linnorm who lives among the roots of Ygdrassil, and Octurus loses a lung in the bargain.

6)  Tower Cleaver gets a makeover, and Octurus gets a new face.

7)  Next stop:  Thanatos...


----------



## gfunk

Wow guys, I really envy you right now.  The final stages of a campaign when your characters are powerful enough to reckon with the most powerful entities of the multiverse is the part I loved most.  The role-play opportunities are grand and the combats can be slow but every round is epic.

Keep up the great work JD and players.  Here's to hoping that you punk Demogorgon and avoid a 0 for 3 in the Paizo adventure paths.


----------



## Hammerhead

Man, that would suck. 

Of course, the odds are definitely in their favor if JD isn't adjusting the difficulty.


----------



## ph dungeon

I just registered on EnWorld, but I've been following this thread for a while now. I'm really enjoying this story hour. Currently, I'm also running a STAP campaign. I've been posting my journals over on the Paizo site, and this has been good inspiration for me. We have just finished SoS, so and I'm really looking forward to Enemies of my Enemies. I've been trying to get some people to post experiences with Redfang, so I'm excited to hear that your journal will be covering that fight in the near future. He looks pretty bad ass, so I hope he gives them a run for their money. Though, from what i've seen your party has been giving the villains a pretty good stomping overall.


----------



## JollyDoc

ph dungeon said:
			
		

> I just registered on EnWorld, but I've been following this thread for a while now. I'm really enjoying this story hour. Currently, I'm also running a STAP campaign. I've been posting my journals over on the Paizo site, and this has been good inspiration for me. We have just finished SoS, so and I'm really looking forward to Enemies of my Enemies. I've been trying to get some people to post experiences with Redfang, so I'm excited to hear that your journal will be covering that fight in the near future. He looks pretty bad ass, so I hope he gives them a run for their money. Though, from what i've seen your party has been giving the villains a pretty good stomping overall.




Redfang had "a moment," but you have to bear in mind...the Legion knew what they were going in to, they had full time to buff up, and it was six vs 1...you do the math...


----------



## Joachim

I just wanted to take a quick poll from Jollydoc's faithful readership...what do y'all think about what we are seeing coming out on 4th Edition?  Like it?  Love it?  Dread it?  Hate it?

No one in our gaming group is allowed to say anything, but I am interested to hear what our average reader's opinion may be.


----------



## Abciximab

I'm definitely... undecided. 

I like some of what I'm seeing, other parts I'm not so sure. Things that have to be tracked during combat, Marking, Who's bloodied, etc do not appeal to me. I do like the change for crits (max damage) and the idea of per encounter abilities. 

I will not be buying right away. I'll be watching the boards and checking out the books in the bookstore. Definitely wait until all the books are out before I decide. Those I game with are of the same mind, so we're in no hurry to change.

I can't wait to hear what you guys have to say about it, I think our groups gaming styles are similar.


----------



## Joachim

Abciximab said:
			
		

> I can't wait to hear what you guys have to say about it, I think our groups gaming styles are similar.




Believe you me...we can't wait to tell you.


----------



## Joachim

Here Part 1 (of 2) of my Mandi RP Update:

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

RESIGNATION AND REDEMPTION


Lavinia stared at the letter in front of her, a look of exasperation on her face.  No aid from the family Vito was coming.  The Sembian merchant clan had been her last hope for help in reclaiming Farshore.  Like sharks smelling blood, the noble houses and merchants of Tashluta saw fit to watch another noble house collapse.  House Vanderboren had run out of friends.  Even the Dawn Council was turning its back on her and denying her family’s rightful claim, having been bribed by Meravanchi’s continental kin.

Breathing out a long sigh, Lavinia looked to her seneschal, a new addition to the Vaderboren manor since the attack of the bullywugs.  It was time for desperate measures.  “We are down to our last few thousand gold.  Jerald, I want you to speak with the local magistrate.  Find out what kind of value this estate has.  I may need to consider using it as collateral or, if the price is right, sell it.”

The servant’s mouth opened, “Mistress, this house has been in your family for generations.  You can’t possibly think of…”

“Jerald, my entire family is dead.  My parents, dead.  My brother, dead.  I am it!  When I am gone, this house would be all that is left, sold at auction by the Dawn Council.  Think of it, the legacy of a noble house of Tashluta, going once, twice, SOLD for five thousand gold coins!  No…That is not what my parents would want.  Their legacy was Farshore, and I’ll be damned if someone else is going to claim that while I still draw breath.”

The seneschal nodded, knowing that he was not going to be able to talk his mistress out of her plan.  As he turned to leave the room, one of the maids peeked her head into the room.  “Milady, you have a visitor…one of your bodyguards…you know, the lady elf who wears that snake skin dress…”

Lavinia’s brow furrowed.  “You mean Mandi?  Show her in, immediately.”  The maid nodded, and scurried back towards the front of the house.

A few moments later, the elf wizardess strode into the room, her face expressionless…as always.  In her hands she carried a simple letter, wax sealed with the symbol of the Seekers.  Lavinia shot out of her chair and went to embrace her cohort, which Mandi accepted awkwardly.  Initial pleasantries exchanged, Lavinia spoke, “So tell me, what news of the Legion?  How is your mission faring?”

Mandi slowly nodded.  “There is much to tell.  After leaving you, we bribed the daughter of a demon lord to tell us where her aunt, another demon lord, had been permanently imprisoned by a being of godlike power.  We made a deal with that being, a demon lord by the name of Ahazu, whereby we have 65 days to kill the Prince of Demons and turn over the corpse or we as a group will be assumed bodily into the layer of the Abyss known as Shattered Night.

“In trade we were allowed to free the demon lord captive and question her as to the weaknesses of said Demon Prince.  Before she could answer, a rent in the sky appeared and the River Styx was redirected on top of us, and we all were stripped of our memories.  Shortly thereafter, Charon, the near-godlike boatman of the Styx, appeared and took us to see Iggwilv, the single most powerful mortal being in all of existence.  Speaking with her, we learned that we have to meet with and entreat the most wicked beings in the Abyss such that we can form an army against the Prince of Demons.  

“If we fail in this task, one half of the Prince of Demons will absorb the other as he unleashes a Savage Tide across this plane, destroying all life on Toril as we know it, ultimately resulting in said demon prince assuming full godhood, taking control of all the horrors of the Abyss, winning the Blood War, and beginning an unstoppable conquest of the remaining planes of the multiverse.  And that’s about it.  

“How have things been here?”

Lavinia stammered, “Uh…things here are, well, good, I guess.  I am having no luck in reclaiming Farshore, or enlisting aid from other families to help me in this, but…ummm.  My, all of this sounds so trivial compared to what you and the other ‘Legionnaires’ find yourself up against...”

Mandi cut the noblewoman off with a curt wave of her hand, growing very serious.  “Lavinia, do not play down the importance of what you are trying to accomplish.  The reason I am here is actually to see that you succeed in reclaiming your father’s legacy.”  With that, the elf held forth the sealed letter.

Her head cocked to the side, Lavinia took the letter and popped the seal.  “What is this?”

“It’s a certified letter from me, turning over all of my holdings within the Seeker’s guild treasury for your use, provided that you use them to recover Farshore and begin real trade to and from the Isle of Dread.”

Lavinia smiled graciously, almost patronizingly.  It was a nice gesture, but couldn’t be enough to fully fund a new vessel to the Isle, but it was appreciated.  “Thank you.  Every last coin should help.  I will add it to the little we have collected.  I hate to ask, but how much should I expect to be there.”

Mandi cocked her head back and forth, calculating.  “After I made a small donation back to the guild, I believe there should still be approximately three hundred and fifty thousand gold crowns.  By my estimation, that should be more than enough to purchase, outfit, and crew no less than two dozen caravels, most likely more.”

The noblewoman’s mouth dropped, and Lavinia was speechless.  Mandi continued, “It is my belief that the best way for you to regain the popular control of Farshore is through trade.  Bring continental goods to the Isle on your way out there.  Bring the exotic Isle goods back to the continent on the return trip home.  With two dozen vessels you would have the start of a merchant fleet empire, and not just to Tashluta.  The ports and bazaars of Calimport, Baldur’s Gate, and Waterdeep can be stocked with the fine silks, spices, and other trinkets from the Isle of Dread.

“By continually bringing ships in and out, the people of Farshore will begin to prosper.  As they prosper, they will become fat on their new wealth, and comfortable as the luxuries of home are continually delivered to their doorstep.  They will become dependent on you.  

“Don’t forget the mongrelmen.  These pitiful creatures have been scorned by all men, except for you.  I would imagine that if you continue to show them compassion they would do anything for you.  At that point you would have control over the trade routes to and from the Isle, as well as the great percentage of the labor force, giving you total control over the village’s economy.

“The House of Vanderboren would then become the true power ruling over Farshore.  The rat Meravanchi may remain the de facto mayor, but his power will be castrated.  What is even more satisfying is that not only will he will know what is happening but he will also be fully aware that he is without means of stopping it.”

Lavinia exhaled loudly.  “You’ve given this a lot of thought haven’t you?  I don’t know what to say.  How can I ever repay you?”

“Simply…You can’t.  What I give to you now does not require it.  If nothing else, what I offer to you is a post-mortem gift to your father.  Now, along with this boon, I tender my resignation as your retainer.  Farshore is left in your capable hands.

Once our mission on the Abyss is completed, I do not believe that I will spend much of my remaining time on this plane, provided of course that I survive the battles to come.  I may check in with you and your progeny every decade or so.  Apart from that, however, this is farewell.”

Lavinia nodded, stood, and extended her arm, which Mandi accepted.  The elf turned on her heel and promptly left the residence.

Once out in the courtyard, Mandi began intoning the words to her most powerful teleportive spell.  A ten-foot diameter portal opened before her leading straight to the Gray Wastes.  Before Mandi was to rejoin her comrades, she had one more soul to visit…


----------



## stonegod

Joachim said:
			
		

> I just wanted to take a quick poll from Jollydoc's faithful readership...what do y'all think about what we are seeing coming out on 4th Edition?  Like it?  Love it?  Dread it?  Hate it?



Been reading the SH since AoW, though I don't comment much.

I'm optimistic about 4E. I'm willing to put it through its paces, and while a few things look weird, I'm not hating it.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 4)  Octurus gets to meet his Maker
> 
> 5)  The Legion takes on Redfang, the linnorm who lives among the roots of Ygdrassil, and Octurus loses a lung in the bargain.
> 
> 6)  Tower Cleaver gets a makeover, and Octurus gets a new face.



Man, do those two continue to take a beating. Octurus gets a new face...again? 


			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 7)  Next stop:  Thanatos...



Yeah, let the Rumble In Thanatos beginn !!! Give my regards to the old goat.


Joachim, great interlude with Mandi. I could see how she would have other interests to persue, if she survives what's to come. Now, does she visit Lord or Lady Vanderboren? And, if the Lady, what nasty surprise does she have in store for her?


----------



## Joachim

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Now, does she visit Lord or Lady Vanderboren? And, if the Lady, what nasty surprise does she have in store for her?




Neither...I guess the word 'soul' was inappropriate.


----------



## DarenCommons

*nice game*

i've been reading your STAP and enjoying it quite a bit.  I'm also looking forward to playing 4E.

cheers


----------



## Aracase

Joachim said:
			
		

> No one in our gaming group is allowed to say anything....





			
				Joachim said:
			
		

> Believe you me...we can't wait to tell you.



The internet doesn't really bring forth the emotions, tone, and absolute venom of Joachim's statements.

For example.....


			
				DarenCommons said:
			
		

> I'm also looking forward to playing 4E.



The above quote does not even remotely favor the previous two quotes.




			
				Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Man, do those two continue to take a beating.....



Towercleaver doesn't taking beatings, he just hands them out like bloody candy.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE COURT OF STARS

“So where will you begin?”  Iggwilv asked, one eyebrow raised.
“I believe the least perilous choice would be Gwynharwyf,” Mandi said after a moment.
“You are a bigger fool than I would have thought if you truly believe that,” the Witch Queen laughed.
“Perhaps I should have said ‘the least obviously perilous,’” Mandi amended.  
“If this is your course,” Iggwilv nodded, “then forewarned is forearmed.  You should know that Gwynharwf and Demogorgon have a history, as I implied earlier.  She was captured by him during an eladrin raid, and suffered greatly as his prisoner.  Morwel eventually rescued her, staging a daring strike that cost the demon lord Ilsidahur, the Howling King of the bar-lgura, his right hand.  Morwel will be loathe to risk her so again.”
“Have you ever been to the Court?”  Mandi asked.
Iggwilv chuckled.  “No.  The denizens there are too full of moonsparkle and unicorn giggles for my taste.  I can tell you how to get there, however.  Not far from one of the Styx’s tributaries, where the river approaches some of the roots of Yggdrasil, the World Tree, grows a grove of lightning-struck oaks.  By touching sprigs of mistletoe to the lightning scars, you can transport yourselves to the Court of Stars, near the queen’s domain.”
_________________________________________________________

The Legion took their leave of Iggwilv, though she strongly admonished them to return to her before journeying to any of the other potential allies she had named.  The crew of the Sea Wyvern was relieved to be under way, despite Charon’s assurances of safe passage.  Time passed differently on the lower planes, and though they might have been sailing for days, it seemed only an hour or two passed before the ship reached the tributary Iggwilv had spoken of.  Not long after, the oak grove appeared near the banks of the river.  The Legionnaires disembarked, warning the crew to remain on the ship no matter what, and approached the blackened trees.  Mandi drew the mistletoe from her belt pouch and touched the nearest tree, as instructed.  Instantly, the six companions were caught up in a swirling, violet vortex that materialized around them, vanishing from Niflheim in the blink of an eye.

Once their disorientation faded and their vertigo passed, they found themselves in a titanic forest of trees as thick as houses, where even the squirrels were the size of dogs.  
“Do you hear that?”  Daelric asked.
For a moment, no one heard anything, but then, in the distance, and approaching quickly, the sound of baying hounds was unmistakable.  Less than a minute later, a dozen enormous, black canines broke from the underbrush and swirled around the travelers, yapping and sniffing and occasionally licking hands.  Whenever one of them approached Daelric, Marius, or Mandi, however, it would growl low in its throat.  Then, as one, the dogs lifted their heads and drew back several feet, leaving an opening at the apex of the circle they had formed.  A moment later, a knight on a powerful white horse rode into the clearing, flanked by two glowing globes of floating golden light.  The horse pawed the earth, while the knight, a sword that glowed with the light of the sun gripped in one hand, raised his visor, revealing a handsome man with elvish features, though his skin was golden and his eyes bright purple.  
“You!” he shouted, pointing his finger accusingly.  “Why are you here?”
Daelric cleared his throat and stepped forward.  “We seek an audience with the Court of Stars.  We are on a quest to vanquish a great evil from the Abyss, and we request the aid of the Whirling Fury, Gwynharwf.”   
The knight threw back his head and laughed derisively.  
“And why would any of this fair realm’s leaders set aside time to talk to a clot of dirty mortals?” he sneered.  “Besides, you stink of the Styx, and you…” he stabbed his finger at Sepoto, “…you reek of pomposity!”
“Whom do we have the honor of addressing?”  Mandi asked, a chill in her voice.
“I am Sir Andros Fearnaught,” the knight replied haughtily, “and these are my companions, Bhaenmar and Waldrop.”  He indicated the glowing globes.  
“Well, Sir Fearnaught,” Mandi said, “how might we convince you of the sincerity of our mission?”
It was then that Andros’s noticed Octurus among the others.
“By the stars!” he gasped.  “I didn’t see you there, brother!  Why do you journey with this rabble?”
The demon hunter stepped forward and bowed.  “My lord, eladrin,” he intoned, “though mortal, like myself, my companions are noble souls and their hearts are true.”
Andros sniffed.  “That may be so, but it would be folly for me to escort such as these to the Court with no proof of their merit.  You, my brother, will meet the paragon eladrin soon enough.  As for your…friends…they must prove themselves worthy first.”
“And how might we do that?”  Mandi asked, caustically.
In reply, Andros stripped off one of his mail-backed gloves and tossed it at her feet.
“I demand the right of challenge!” he said.  “Each of you will meet me in contest, and if you best me fairly, you will be free to journey on.”
“What kind of challenge?”  Sepoto asked suspiciously.
“I offer you choices:,” Andros replied, “wrestling, jousting, or steeple chase.”
“Well, in that case,” the goliath answered, as he unbuckled his mail shirt, “I’ll take wrestling.”

A short time later the goliath and the eladrin circled each other, both stripped to the waist.  They were enclosed in a circle comprised on one side of cheering Legionnaires, and on the other by baying moondogs and pulsating ghaele.  Andros made the first move, first feinting for Sepoto’s legs, and then darting in and seizing the crusader in a bear hug.  Sepoto grinned broadly, his black tooth bared.  Before Andros knew what was happening, the goliath wrapped his arms around his opponent’s waist, lifted him bodily into the air, and then slammed him to the ground onto his back.  The eladrin knight struggled against the weight of the crusader, who now had him pinned firmly, but to no avail.  Suddenly, a huge, disembodied hand appeared next to the grapplers and slammed against the turf for a count of one…two…three!
Sepoto stood, offering his hand to Andros.  Grudgingly, the knight accepted, rising to his feet as well.
“I suppose anyone can get lucky,” he said sourly.  “In any event, I am a man of honor.  I will allow you to accompany me and Octurus to the Court.”
“What about the others?”  Sepoto asked suspiciously.  “I beat you fairly.  Don’t they get to come to?”
“Perhaps you didn’t hear my original stipulation,” Andros smiled.  “I stated that each of you must best me.  If any of the rest are up to the challenge, then I am at their service.”
Sepoto opened his mouth to protest, but Mandi stopped him.
“It’s alright,” she said.  “I’ll go next.”
“You?”  Andros looked bemused.  “An elf woman?”
“Not intimidated, are you?”  Mandi asked with a smirk.
“Hardly,” the knight replied.  “Come then, little girl, and I shall teach you a lesson in humility.”

Mandi stood calmly, arms folded as Andros crouched and circled.  Finally, seeing that she was not going to defend herself, he seized her, wrapping her tightly in his arms.
“You may as well give up!” he said, triumphantly.  “There is no way that you can escape!”
“Poor, helpless me,” Mandi said, smiling still.  “How could I ever think I’d beat a big, strong man like you?”  
Then, she closed her eyes, her brow furrowing in concentration.  A moment later, Andros felt himself grabbed from behind.  Stretching to see what sort of trickery it was, he was astonished to see another large, disembodied hand holding him tightly.  Mandi moved a few feet away, arms folded again.
“Do you concede?” she asked.
In reply, Andros vanished, only to reappear a moment later beside her.
“You are a blackguard and a cheat!” he said shrilly.  “I demand you leave this place immediately!”  A moment later, his blazing sword was in his hand, and Mandi took a step back, her own hands raised and ready.
“Wait, just wait a minute!”  Daelric shouted, stepping between the pair.  “Please, Sir Fearnaught, we don’t have time for this.  I assure you, our business with the Court is of the utmost urgency, and we cannot delay any longer.  I beg you, let us pass!”

At that moment, a strong, feminine voice cried out as a shimmering ball of green light wafted gently onto the scene.
“Andros!  Do you not recognize these heroes?  They are the ones our queen spoke of…the ones who are standing against our old enemy.  Has you ego blinded you yet again to our queen’s wishes?”
Andros seemed morbidly chastened at the rebuke and immediately went from blustering champion to embarrassed and mortified submissive, hanging his head in shame.
“Please, Lady Celeste,” he muttered, “I was only toying with them.  I would have brought them to our queen in time.”
At that point, the ball of light transformed into a beautiful green-haired eladrin who drifted gently down to the ground.  She cast one final, disgusted look at Andros.
“You may resume your little hunt,” she said with finality, and Andros immediately mounted his horse, wheeled and vanished with his pack back into the forest.
“My profuse apologies,” Celeste, turning her attention back to the companions.  “You are expected at Morwel’s Palace, and I have been sent to escort you.  As Andros already mentioned, I am called Celeste…”


----------



## JollyDoc

The journey took little more than an hour, and along the way Celeste was eager to hear tales of the Legion’s adventures.  She revealed little of her own information, however, stating that it was not her place to speak for her queen, but that they would be in Morwel’s presence soon enough.

As the company emerged from the forest and crested a hill, it seemed almost as if they were climbing into the heavens themselves.  The hill was taller than it first appeared, and very quickly they were above the tree line and even the clouds, with snow crunching underfoot.  Yet the air seemed only pleasantly crisp, and not cold at all.  The night stars sparkled around them, and the crystal palace before them seemed close, until its true scale began to sink in.  Its walls were built of glowing crystal, and when they finally reached the outer gates, they saw literally thousands of separate magical lights glittering within.  Some were lanterns, but others were living creatures, some tiny, others several feet across.  They floated in and out of the palace like soap bubbles.
“Bubbles!”  Cleaver said with delight.
At the gate, two eladrins with opalescent eyes greeted them, bowing deeply to Celeste before stepping aside.  Within, the palace seemed brighter and brighter, until at last Celeste led them into a dazzling central dome.  Hundreds of eladrin in elven and glowing light forms watched silently from the tiers rising from the room’s edges.  Octurus readily picked out the sullen figure of Andros among the spectators.  At the center of the room rested three golden thrones.  Sitting regally on the central and largest throne was a tall red-haired, and shockingly beautiful elven woman wearing a diaphanous gown that seemed made up of thousands of flickering pinpoints of lights.  She did not speak, but a silver-haired and deeply tanned woman sitting on the throne to her right did.
“Welcome mortals,” she said.  “What brings you to the Court of Stars?”
The left-hand throne was empty, but Octurus barely noticed.  He was literally star-struck as he stared in open-mouthed awe at the embodiment of the Whirling Fury.

Mandi told their story yet again, leaving out nothing.  Daelric punctuated with small details, all the while noticing that every time Demogorgon’s name was mentioned, Gwynharwyf would clench her fist, her eyes sparkling dangerously.  As the tale came to and end, Morwel nodded.
“Your task is worthy and the stuff of heroes.  And heroes such as yourselves must be supported and honored.  You have my pledge of aid in this battle.  Although I cannot leave the Court, you shall have the support of my dear friend and her armies when the time to strike comes.  Gwynharwyf has had dealings with Demogorgon before, and she has been waiting for a chance to return his favors.  Yet, while my trust in you might be enough to satisfy the concerns of my children, it would be foolish of me to not offer proof of your heroic nature to them.  As much as it pains me to ask, I need a favor from you before I can allow Gwynharwyf to prepare for battle.  At the base of the World Ash gnaws a dragon, a particularly foul-tempered dread linnorm named Redfang.  He has vexed my children for ages, but his distance and power have ensured his longevity.  Yet of late he has gone too far.  He has razed eladrin holdings and fatted upon my children, and now lies in torpor in his lair among Yggdrasil’s roots.  It is time for him to die.  Go you then, and bring me Redfang’s heads…no, wait.  His heads are too large.  Instead, gut the beast and release one of the stars from his belly.  When you return, Gwynharwyf shall take you to the Fountain of Beauty to seal our alliance.”
A murmur of approval rose from the Court.  Mandi turned to each of her companions and her questioning look was met by nods of approval or indifferent shrugs.  
“We understand your need to test our mettle, my Lady,” she said, turning back to the queen, “and we will do as you have asked, or die trying.”
“It is settled then,” Morwel said, smiling.  Then she stood, and her body transformed into that of a large sphere of multi-colored light.  Violet beams began emanating from the globe, and as each one struck a member of the Legion, they vanished from sight.
______________________________________________________________

What had at first appeared to be the ground was, in fact, an immense moss-covered root.  Closer inspection revealed that there was no proper ground to be found anywhere, only a tangling descent of additional roots that formed a dizzying array of hills and valleys.  Above, an immense wall of wood rose into the sky beyond sight, and the sky itself was a vast, endless canopy of branches and leaves.  The horizon was a foggy expanse, and a cold, misty wind drifted along in the air.
Ahead, a cavern descended between a V shape formed by two gigantic roots, each of them ninety feet high.  The space between them was about forty feet wide and littered with stones, enormous dead leaves, and two tunnel entrances, both thirty feet across.  The cold, misty wind seemed to be issuing from there.

“I guess this is the place,” Sepoto said.  “Cleaver and I will take point.”
The company fell into line, with Octurus following behind Sepoto, then Marius, Daelric, invisible as usual, and last, Mandi.  The tunnels descended several hundred yards into the tree before opening into an immense cavern, the far side and roof of which could not be seen.  There, coiled and hissing, was a wingless dragon of colossal proportions.  It had two necks and two heads atop its massive, black-scaled body, and no legs grew from the rear of its serpentine form.  As the Legion entered, it roared a bellowing challenge.
“More of Morwel’s lackeys,” it rumbled.  “Though you do not appear as sweet or delicate as her star children, I will make a meal of you nonetheless.”
“Hold that thought,” Mandi said, then wove her hands in a complex spiral.  A rippling green energy field began to emanate from Redfang, and the linnorms twin heads looked about in confusion.
“He won’t be escaping except by going through us,” the sorceress announced to her companions.  “And just to show that we mean business…”
Another spell left Mandi’s lips, and as it did so, the familiar sound of blood vessels ripping free of their host filled the air.  Redfang screamed as his vasculature fell in a heap to the ground before him.  

Sepoto, Tower Cleaver and Octurus were in motion before Mandi had finished her incantation, with the goliath reaching the linnorm just as his blood exploded into a fine, red mist.  The crusader shouted a battle-cry as he ran, wielding his chain like an extension of himself as he drew even more blood from the pain-crazed dragon.  
Octurus was right on his heels, the raptor tattoo on his bicep roaring to life as he pounced into the air.  Redfang was a fraction of a second faster, and the teeth of one of his heads fastened around the Maztican’s torso and shook him like a rag doll.  Blood spurted from the demon hunter’s mouth as the linnorm bit and tore at his flesh, finally heaving him into the air and then sending him careening across the cavern with a slap of his oak-like tail.  Octurus struck the wall, and slid down it into a motionless heap, his chest heaving and wheezing as blood filled his lungs.

Then Cleaver was by Sepoto’s side, and the two warriors hammered at the linnorm, forcing him further and further back into the depths of the cave, and away from their fallen comrade.  Meanwhile, Daelric rushed to Octurus’s side, shaking his head at the gravity of the Maztican’s wounds.  Placing his hands on either side of Octurus’s chest, he bowed his head and invoked Shaundekal’s name.  In a swirl of white fire, the demon hunter’s horrible injuries sealed shut, and his breathing eased.  Finally, he opened his eyes, gripped the priest’s shoulder in gratitude, and then rose to his feet and headed back into the fray.

“No!  What sorcery is this??”  Sepoto shouted as, before his unbelieving eyes, Redfang’s wounds also began to heal.  Morwel had not exaggerated when she said the linnorm was powerful.  
“Keep at him!” the crusader cried, and he and Tower Cleaver redoubled their efforts, joined once more by Octurus.  In the end, however, despite the withering damage they dealt, it was not the blows of the three warriors that felled the titanic drake, but instead the utterly devastating blasts of Hellfire hurled by Marius.  It seemed the little gnome had learned a few tricks at the feet of his new mistress.

As the linnorm convulsed in its death throes, Octurus slashed into its gullet with his twin blades, exposing its stomach with surgical precision.  The organ glowed dimly from within.  Quickly, the hunter incised the peritoneum and the tissue beneath, releasing a flood of caustic bile.  From the gory remains rose a small orb of light, glowing with the illumination of a candle.  It swirled around Octurus’s head, healing the rest of his wounds as it touched him, and then healing his companions in turn before shooting out of the cave in a twinkle.


----------



## JollyDoc

“You have done well, heroes,” Gwynharwyf said as she stood beside the wonderful fountain in the center of a forested courtyard.  “Do you see the star you freed?”  She pointed to a bright, twinkling point of light in the night sky.  “Now, in honor of your service, I invite you to drink from the Fountain of Beauty.”
In turn, each of the Legionnaires approached the fountain, cupped their hands and drank deeply.  Marius, Mandi and Daelric had to stop themselves from retching on the foul-tasting water, though they found it strangely refreshing.  Even more strange, as each drinker imbibed, their features became more beautiful and took on distinctive elven attributes:  pointed ears, long flowing hair, and musical voices.  
“Don’t worry,” Gwynharwyf laughed as Sepoto touched his tapered ears, and Tower cleaver tossed his long, blonde mane and tail, “the changes are not permanent.  They will fade over the next several days…except for you.”  
Slowly, she walked to Octurus and began unwinding the balaclava from around his ruined face.  As the covering came off, his companions were stunned to see his features whole once more, and even more strikingly handsome with their eladrin highlights.
“You, my son, are blessed to appear in form as you are in spirit,” Gwynharwyf continued, cupping his face in her hands.  “You have served me well, and you shall be my champion in the coming war.  Call upon me in your hour of darkness, and I shall send aid to you no matter where you are.”
Octurus kneeled and lay his blades at her feet.  The Whirling Fury drew her own swords and touched his shoulders.  
“Rise, my knight,” she said, and as Octurus did, he knew that, come what may, his life was complete and he would never be happier than he was at that moment.
________________________________________________________________

“Thanatos,” Iggwilv said as the six companions gathered once more in her private study.  “That is where you should journey next.  When…if…you see Orcus, give him this.”
She produced an envelope bearing her seal.
“Read it if you wish,” she shrugged.  “I’m to old to bother keeping idle secrets from whelps like you.”
Mandi looked at her askance for a moment, and then broke the seal.

_“Lord of Undeath, Sovereign of Thanatos, Keeper of Everlost, Master of the Last Word, Might Orcus!
Please send the fools who bear this missive into your arena…I give them to you for your entertainment.  But if they survive your death giants and that filthy crawling head, do not intercede.  Instead, send them back to me.  They might aid us against a mutual enemy.  In this event, I shall contact you with the particulars when the time to strike nears.”_

“I told you,” Iggwilv said as Mandi looked up, eyes wide.  “Orcus does enjoy violence.”


----------



## Aracase

TC tried to use Sir Andros Fearnaught's horse as a club and beat him to death with it, but that wasn't on the list of challenge choices.  Also, JollyDoc wouldn't let TC do it.   

Jolly really played him up as such a pompous ass that it just seemed like a good idea at the time.

Oh, and the party had to forcibly remove TC from the Court of Stars, he had finally escaped from the Abyss and really didn't want to go back.


----------



## javcs

Aracase said:
			
		

> TC tried to use Sir Andros Fearnaught's horse as a club and beat him to death with it, but that wasn't on the list of challenge choices.  Also, JollyDoc wouldn't let TC do it.
> 
> Jolly really played him up as such a pompous ass that it just seemed like a good idea at the time.



Haha. I've got a build running, inspired by TC in fact, who would totally do such a thing. Only major difference is that he might enjoy the Abyss a bit, given that mine is Chaotic Evil and Lolth-touched. The backstory to explain that is somewhat contrived, but hey, it works. 
The major problem with my build is that the AC sucks ... but, some items from BoED effectively solves that problem, Starmantle Cloak and Retributive Amulet, the DM ruled that the Amulet's effect took place before the Cloak's effect, for those who don't know those, the Retributive Amulet splits melee weapon damage, half (rounding down) goes to the wearer, the other half (rounding up) goes to the attacker, the Starmantle cloak makes you immune to all non-magical weapon attacks, and gives you a Reflex DC 15 save for half on magical weapon attacks. It's moderately broken.
How do you fix the AC problem? Besides killing the other guy first?


----------



## Dax Thura

I'm just now catching up and have to say that I was devastated by the deaths of Basil and Anwar.  My heart was broken by those events so close together. However, Mandi is a worthy heir to Anwar and I am pleased to see that the Totemic Demonslayer class is indeed capable.


----------



## Supar

javcs said:
			
		

> killing the other guy first?



 Isnt that the only way?

Also TC has a personal cleric attached to his nut sack


----------



## JollyDoc

Supar said:
			
		

> Also TC has a personal cleric attached to his nut sack





Which is to say that TC is fairly heavily defensively buffed most of the time.  He also wears a psionic skin instead of armor.  Not sure of all his other bonuses, but fully prepped, his AC is somewhere around 46.


----------



## JollyDoc

*Sunday Night Teaser*

1)  Orcus throws down the gauntlet, and it's Tower Cleaver, all alone, in a winner-take-all arena royal rumble!!

2)  Shindilavri is the next stop on the heroes' check list, where paradise ain't all it's cracked up to be.

3)  The Legionnaires are welcomed to the Malcanthet's capital city by being sorted and catalogued.

4)  Every voyeur's fantasy comes true as Sepoto, TC and the gang bare all for the greater good.

5)  The Pleasure Dome proves to much for Octurus's eladrin-touched psyche to bear.

6)  Sepoto gets a new boss, and slips even further towards the dark side...


----------



## Quartz

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 4)  Every voyeur's fantasy comes true as Sepoto, TC and the gang bare all for the greater good.




You mean they were actually foolish enough and you didn't steal their gear?


----------



## LordVyreth

Out of curiousity, when did Daelric turn evil?  He seemed the least evil among the group for ages, save for Octorus I suppose.  And was Marius evil beforehand, officially?  I think I got him and another of the early blasty types confused.


----------



## Burningspear

Delurking to say i finally caught up...

I have so many questions about spells and feats, that i dont know where to begin...lol.

but rest asure, the storyhour is grand...

Thrisp and Mandi are the best ever imo..

will be back with my questions, and keep it up!


----------



## JollyDoc

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Out of curiousity, when did Daelric turn evil?  He seemed the least evil among the group for ages, save for Octorus I suppose.  And was Marius evil beforehand, officially?  I think I got him and another of the early blasty types confused.




Daelric's wanton use of spells with the Evil descriptor gradually turned his lilly-livered soul black as midnight.  As for Marius, he was officially CN in the beginning, but you know how it goes...slaughter a few innocent bystanders, become a thrall of Graz'zt and before you know it, you're plucking the wings off of pixies and signing your name with a 666!


PS...it's great hearing from all you lurkers out there.  Don't be strangers!!


----------



## JollyDoc

Burningspear said:
			
		

> I have so many questions about spells and feats, that i dont know where to begin...lol.





Try DM'ing these bozos sometime!  Joachim/aka Mandi has an encyclopedic knowledge of every bit of cheesy minutiae ever published.  What's a poor ref to do?


----------



## Nordic Birch

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Try DM'ing these bozos sometime!  Joachim/aka Mandi has an encyclopedic knowledge of every bit of cheesy minutiae ever published.  What's a poor ref to do?




Could be worse, he might start playing clerics again...  Amal would have so much fun in the groups current area of operations.
(viva la CotSQ)

Wonderful writing btw, I just finished your earlier SH's. Easily the equivalent of most fantasy books I've read.


----------



## Quartz

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Try DM'ing these bozos sometime!  Joachim/aka Mandi has an encyclopedic knowledge of every bit of cheesy minutiae ever published.  What's a poor ref to do?




Level the playing field by switching to 4e?


----------



## shilsen

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Try DM'ing these bozos sometime!  Joachim/aka Mandi has an encyclopedic knowledge of every bit of cheesy minutiae ever published.  What's a poor ref to do?



 Easy. Run a campaign for them with just the core books and nothing else. 

I'd bet you a lot their heads explode before the first session is over


----------



## Burningspear

Quartz said:
			
		

> Level the playing field by switching to 4e?




I honestly detest Wotc now with their bull4E crap


----------



## Minkster

Quartz said:
			
		

> Level the playing field by switching to 4e?





BLASPHEMY All I can say is that I really do not see us swapping to 4e if I want to play a MMO I will keep playing WOW it is a much better game than that 4e crap they call a game.

This is Sepoto by the way


----------



## Burningspear

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Try DM'ing these bozos sometime!  Joachim/aka Mandi has an encyclopedic knowledge of every bit of cheesy minutiae ever published.  What's a poor ref to do?




To be honest, so do i, but i dont have ownership of all the books, i just read a lot and remember that...My friend think i am a powergamer, because i like to put many diffrerent classes on 1 char. i simply find it fitting for the char. as a roleplay aspect backed up by the stats..I love playing casters, and saw some feats that sound very nice, but i dont have access to, thats why i am wondering...

will edit


----------



## Joachim

shilsen said:
			
		

> Easy. Run a campaign for them with just the core books and nothing else.
> 
> I'd bet you a lot their heads explode before the first session is over




Not quite, my friend.  Having all those options there before you does allow for increased versatility, but a lot (if not the majority) of Mandi's most powerful spells ARE core:

Alter Self and Polymorph
Shapechange
Mindblank
Limited Wish
Polymorph Any Object
Otto's Irresistible Dance (coupled with the Archmage Arcane Reach ability)
Disintegrate
Bigby's Crushing Hand (+50 to grapple check!)

If Mandi were to go solely core rules only, she would still rock your world.


----------



## Hammerhead

And let's not forget Druid-zilla.


----------



## Burningspear

_*Joachim, can you elaborate on the following?:*_plz 

Feats Alacritous Cogitation, Collegiate Wizard, Favored Magic Foe (chaotic outsiders), Minor Shapeshift, Ship's Mage, 

Team Feats Spell Barrage,


1st - lesser orb of sound, benign transposition, nerveskitter, wave's blessing; 
2nd - wraithstrike, snake's swiftness , stormrunner's ward, ; 
3rd - sound lance, detect ship, dimension step ; 
4th - assay spell resistance, blast of flame, flame whips, orb of force;
5th - 
6th - Rary's arcane conversion, greater anticipate teleportation; 
7th - greater arcane sight, vision, glass strike, final rebuke, submerge ship; 
8th - chain dispel, ghostform, maddening whispers, greater plane shift, 

_*Are these spells all to be found in PHB2?*_

Ring of Enduring Arcana, 
Ring of Arcane Might, 
Tunic of Steady Spellcasting augmented with +4 resistance bonus to saves and +6 enhancement bonus to Con, 
Third Eye (Penetrate) augmented with +6 enhancement bonus to Int, 
Bracers of Arcane Freedom, 
Boots of Big Stepping augmented with +6 enhancement bonus to Dex, 
Robe of Arcane Might (Transmutation), 
Belt of Battle, 
Mage's Circlet, 
Gauntlets of Ghost-Fighting

*Are these items self made completely? or are they from other sources?and what do they do? sorry if my question seems elaborate, but i am just very keen on cool sounding items, even if they might not be better then what the DMG gives..*


Thnx in advance


----------



## WarEagleMage

Joachim can elaborate, but most of those come from the Spell Compendium and the Magic Item Compendium.  While many of the _Complete_ books are complete crap, all of the Compendiums (the two mentioned and the Rules Complendium) are must haves.


----------



## WarEagleMage

Joachim can elaborate, but most of those come from the Spell Compendium and the Magic Item Compendium.  While many of the _Complete_ books are complete crap, all of the Compendiums (the two mentioned and the Rules Compendium) are must haves.


----------



## shilsen

Joachim said:
			
		

> Not quite, my friend.  Having all those options there before you does allow for increased versatility, but a lot (if not the majority) of Mandi's most powerful spells ARE core:
> 
> Alter Self and Polymorph
> Shapechange
> Mindblank
> Limited Wish
> Polymorph Any Object
> Otto's Irresistible Dance (coupled with the Archmage Arcane Reach ability)
> Disintegrate
> Bigby's Crushing Hand (+50 to grapple check!)
> 
> If Mandi were to go solely core rules only, she would still rock your world.



 I doubt it, or at least she'd rock it a whole lot less. Look at the things Burningspear listed above, all of which are non-core. Take them out and she becomes a lot less scary. 

Of course, the above are purely academic comments. I don't think there's anything intrinsically better about an all-core game and I personally wouldn't run one, because I know my players would like a lot more options and there's some great material outside it.


----------



## Joachim

Shilsen, I won't disagree with the fact that she would be less powerful (losing versatility has that effect).  That would be foolish, and dishonest.  But her build as a pure core character would still be very, very viable in this campaign arc.


----------



## shilsen

Joachim said:
			
		

> Shilsen, I won't disagree with the fact that she would be less powerful (losing versatility has that effect).  That would be foolish, and dishonest.  But her build as a pure core character would still be very, very viable in this campaign arc.



 Sure. I think the cleric, druid, sorcerer, and wizard can all be completely viable in the majority of campaigns while running strictly core, simply because of the spells. I think it's the other classes which really need non-core material to stay in the running as one goes up in levels, since otherwise they get overshadowed very fast.


----------



## Aracase

Now that you mention non-core...
*
Tower Cleaver; Minotaur Bbn2/Wrh9:* CR 15; ECL 19; Size L; HD 6d8+30 + 11d12+55; hp 253; Init +1; Spd 40 ft (base 30 ft); AC 38, touch 14, FF 37; BAB +8/+3; Grapple +33; Atk: +28 melee (1d8 + 31, gore), +30/+25 melee (3d6 + 32/crit x3, Greataxe, +1 Flaming), +31/+26 melee (3d6 + 33/crit x3, Greataxe, Sun), +33/+28 melee (3d6 + 35/crit x3, Greataxe, Sun vs. Evil); SA Powerful charge 4d6+6; SQ Darkvision 60 ft., natural cunning, scent; AL N; SV Fort +23, Ref +14, Will +15; Str 52, Dex 12, Con 24, Int 6, Wis 10, Cha 6.
*Languages spoken:* Common, Giant
*Skills and Feats:* Climb +18, Intimidate +0, Listen +7, Speak Language +2, Spellcraft +0, Spot +8, Survival +1, Swim +10; Armor Proficiency (Light), Armor Proficiency (Medium), Cleave, Extra Rage, Great Cleave, Iron Will, Martial Weapon Proficiency, Power Attack, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Toughness, Weapon Focus(Greataxe).
*Special Abilities:* Ability Boost(x9), Darkvision, Fast Movement, Great Swing, Illiteracy, Massive sweeping boulder, Mighty rock throwing, Mighty swing, Rage, Scent, Sweeping boulder, Uncanny Dodge.
*Possessions:* 5727 pp, 605 gp, Sun axe, Large greataxe +1 (flaming), Backpack, 4 Potion of cure moderate wounds, Potion of haste, Potion of invisibility, 16 Potion of cure serious wounds, 5 Potion of fly, 4 Potion of barkskin +3, Potion of water breathing, 4 Potion of protection from evil, Potion of lesser restoration, Skin of ectoplasmic armor, Cloak of protection +3, Vest of resistance +5, Ioun stone (dusty rose), Ring of freedom of movement, Bracers of health +4 con; +2 dex, Amulet of natural armor +5, Third eye conceal, Boots of speed, Heavy steel +4 large shield (animated), Ring of evasion, Belt of giant strength +6.


----------



## carborundum

>CHOKE!<

52 Strength


----------



## LordVyreth

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Daelric's wanton use of spells with the Evil descriptor gradually turned his lilly-livered soul black as midnight.  As for Marius, he was officially CN in the beginning, but you know how it goes...slaughter a few innocent bystanders, become a thrall of Graz'zt and before you know it, you're plucking the wings off of pixies and signing your name with a 666!
> 
> 
> PS...it's great hearing from all you lurkers out there.  Don't be strangers!!




Psh, is that all?  So if he spent a month summoning a few celestials a day, would he get kicked back to neutral or even good?  

Wait, what spells are we talking about?  I don't remember him using many in the recaps in the first place.  That's a bit of a sticking point for me.  If the spell was evil for its tendency to cause more pain and suffering than, say, being burned alive in a fireball, I could see it.  But others, like summoning evil outsiders, don't strike me as that bad, at least if they're used for good purposes.  So is anyone good at this point, or ever for that matter?  Octurus and Samson are the closest I think you guys came.


----------



## GilaMonster

Is there any possibility of seeing Octurus's char sheet?


----------



## Supar

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Psh, is that all?  So if he spent a month summoning a few celestials a day, would he get kicked back to neutral or even good?
> 
> Wait, what spells are we talking about?  I don't remember him using many in the recaps in the first place.  That's a bit of a sticking point for me.  If the spell was evil for its tendency to cause more pain and suffering than, say, being burned alive in a fireball, I could see it.  But others, like summoning evil outsiders, don't strike me as that bad, at least if they're used for good purposes.  So is anyone good at this point, or ever for that matter?  Octurus and Samson are the closest I think you guys came.




HA! Finally a good point! It doesnt cause anymore suffering it just slows targets (will save to negate) everytime TC hits not used for evil purposes but i cant say he is being a good boy either


----------



## Evilhalfling

Another avid thread lurker ...
Burningspear missed Avasculate from the list on non-core spells.  Its really deserves its [evil] descriptor. 

I started reading this thread when I was planning on using the adventure of going to the island of dread, only in reverse.  My players were planning on leaving a modified Isle of Dread.  The campaign ended too quickly (one player became a father, and stepped away from the table, while two previous players asked to rejoin, resulting in a new campaign) 

I was also hoping to get in the pirate attack on farshore, I loved the task/war set up in that one. This series has had some really great adventures, including enemy of my enemies.  
JollyDoc What was your favorite chapter to run?


----------



## Burningspear

Evilhalfling said:
			
		

> Another avid thread lurker ...
> Burningspear missed Avasculate from the list on non-core spells.  Its really deserves its [evil] descriptor.




Actually, i did not miss it, i left it out on purpose, as i thought it was to yucky..., just disgusting


----------



## javcs

carborundum said:
			
		

> >CHOKE!<
> 
> 52 Strength



That would be the warhulk's fault, mostly.
+2 Strength every level. Untyped bonus. Explicitly stacks with itself.
It's awesome.
The only downside is the class ability No Time to Think, and the lack of a BAB progression.


----------



## JollyDoc

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Psh, is that all?  So if he spent a month summoning a few celestials a day, would he get kicked back to neutral or even good?
> 
> Wait, what spells are we talking about?  I don't remember him using many in the recaps in the first place.  That's a bit of a sticking point for me.  If the spell was evil for its tendency to cause more pain and suffering than, say, being burned alive in a fireball, I could see it.  But others, like summoning evil outsiders, don't strike me as that bad, at least if they're used for good purposes.  So is anyone good at this point, or ever for that matter?  Octurus and Samson are the closest I think you guys came.




To be clear...it was mostly Daelric's dabbling with such spells as Investiture of the Ice Devil, which probably hasn't been too detailed in the narrative because it Slows any opponent hit by the recipient if they fail a Will save.  Hard to convey in the prose.  We had the discussion about good deeds offsetting evil ones, and I believe they can if they are exceptional and not done solely for the purpose of offsetting an evil act, and then simply performing that same evil act again...and again...and again.  What it really boiled down to was that Daelric's player (Supar) wanted free reign to cast spells with the Evil descriptor, so he had to make a choice.


----------



## JollyDoc

Evilhalfling said:
			
		

> Another avid thread lurker ...
> Burningspear missed Avasculate from the list on non-core spells.  Its really deserves its [evil] descriptor.
> 
> I started reading this thread when I was planning on using the adventure of going to the island of dread, only in reverse.  My players were planning on leaving a modified Isle of Dread.  The campaign ended too quickly (one player became a father, and stepped away from the table, while two previous players asked to rejoin, resulting in a new campaign)
> 
> I was also hoping to get in the pirate attack on farshore, I loved the task/war set up in that one. This series has had some really great adventures, including enemy of my enemies.
> JollyDoc What was your favorite chapter to run?




I would have to say that so far it has been Enemy of my Enemies, although City of Broken Idols was a lot of fun too.  That said, I'm rereading Prince of Demons and I'm really psyched about playing out the final chapter in this epic AP!!


----------



## Joachim

Evilhalfling said:
			
		

> Another avid thread lurker ...
> Burningspear missed Avasculate from the list on non-core spells.  Its really deserves its [evil] descriptor.




And don't forget Mindrape too!  I just haven't had a good chance to inflict that on Jollydoc's minions yet.


----------



## Joachim

shilsen said:
			
		

> Sure. I think the cleric, druid, sorcerer, and wizard can all be completely viable in the majority of campaigns while running strictly core, simply because of the spells. I think it's the other classes which really need non-core material to stay in the running as one goes up in levels, since otherwise they get overshadowed very fast.




You can't disagree with that either, especially at the higher levels (which is where most people concentrate when discussions of class 'power' are started).  At low levels, this is not so much a problem, as actually the opposite occurs when the party fighter gets all of the glory while the wizard uses the 'total defense' action every other round.  It just so happens that the Paizo adventure path campaigns run 1-20, so if you play a pure caster, and that character survives, you will get to see the power ascension by the final chapters.

I will admit that, overall, I am a big 'options' guy.  I really like to take the new base classes out for a test drive, even though their support in future products is limited.  So far, I have tried out the favored soul, warlock, beguiler, and I think that my next character (when we finish this AP and move on to the Pathfinder RoR AP) is going to be a Healer.  Please don't tell me how bad they suck, I already know.  I am looking forward to it (not that I am trying to rush the final chapters of this awesome campaign, either).


----------



## carborundum

Spellthieves are great fun too, if a little underpowered. I let a player in my campaign have Bard spell progression and the little CN halfling rocks!


----------



## Burningspear

Well, sorry JollyDoc for this, but it seems Enworld is not allowing me to send a private message to Joachim. for some reason it does not see i am logged in (crappy-enworld-system).


Joachim, can u tell me roughly what this feat does?: Minor Shapeshift,

And do you have any idea if there are feats, that let someone who can change shape, be allowed more forms (not like a druid though).

I am playing a Rakshasa in one story, and he can shape change to any humanoid form, and it will be interestng for me to find out if i could change to other demonic/ devil forms or even Monstrous Humanoids and the like..

If u want, you can email me privately, so as not to pollute the SH to much ,
dbernadina@yahoo.com


----------



## Aracase

From the WotC website 

MINOR SHAPESHIFT [RESERVE]
Your mastery of shapeshifting magic allows you to reshape
your flesh in small but significant ways.

It has some small shapeshifting bonus, but I'm sure this is why Joachim chose it.


> As a secondary benefit, you gain a +1 competence bonus to
> your caster level when casting polymorph spells.


----------



## Hammerhead

Not quite. The bonus to Polymorph spells is nice, but the real use is to get temporary hit points. As a swift action, you can gain one of a number of benefits, but the big one is to give yourself temp HP equal to your HD for a number of rounds equal to the highest level [polymorph] spell you have prepped.


----------



## Joachim

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Not quite. The bonus to Polymorph spells is nice, but the real use is to get temporary hit points. As a swift action, you can gain one of a number of benefits, but the big one is to give yourself temp HP equal to your HD for a number of rounds equal to the highest level [polymorph] spell you have prepped.




CORRECT!  Nicely done.  I dropped that feat, however, when I went full Jack Sparrow Mode with Mandi after I used a Limited Wish to simulate a Psychic Reformation (traded it for Ship's Mage).

EDIT:  Sorry for not responding sooner, I can't access this website from work (damn firewall).


----------



## JollyDoc

OUT OF THE FRYING PAN, INTO THE FIRE

Ash-gray clouds filled the cold, black skies of Thanatos, the Belly of Death, where daylight never intruded.  An immense, melancholic moon hung over the vast tundra that comprised the 127th layer of the Abyss.  Only a handful of cities crouched upon this barren landscape, havens for the mortal and immortal cultists who sought to emulate the life of their demonic patron.  The River Styx passed near to one such bastion, the city of Lachrymosa.  From there, the sprawling desert of bone meal known as Oblivion’s End, stretched hundreds of miles towards the interior of the plane to the palace of Orcus himself, Everlost.  

Mandi had done her homework on Thanatos before they departed Iggwilv’s home.  She knew, for instance, that the layer was closely attuned to the plane of negative energy, and would quickly drain the life-force of any living mortal who tarried there too long.  In addition, the atmosphere was exceedingly thin, making even the mere act of breathing a struggle.  She anticipated this, and instructed Daelric to beseech his patron, Shaundekal, for a prayer that the sorceress knew would attune her and her comrades to the harmful effects of the plane once they left the Sea Wyvern.  And leave, they would have to, for they Styx did not pierce the plane’s interior.  An overland passage of Oblivion’s End would not only be dangerous, but it would take weeks…time they could not afford to spare.  So as soon as the Legion reached the port of Lachrymosa, Mandi immediately set about finding a detailed map of Everlost.  She managed to procure one, but at a very steep price.  With it, however, she was able to glean enough details of the castle-fortress to allow her to Teleport there with her companions.

They appeared in the middle of a large, bustling square, but unlike the more familiar markets of Tashluta and Calimport, this one teemed with all manner of undead and demon.  Their arrival did not go unnoticed, and they were soon approached by a group of pale-skinned vampires.
“Visitors!” one of them said with a toothy smile.  “Ve luff visitors!”
“What he say?”  Cleaver axed, cocking his head.
“It’s Vampire Speak,” Mandi explained.  “I can translate.  He said they enjoy visitors…but I’m not certain in what context to take that.”
“Velcome to Efferlost,” the vampire continued.  “Ve haff maps,” he opened one side of his cloak to display several rolled scrolls, “and amulets, to protect ze living from ze…unfortunate effects of our luffly home.  You like?  You buy?”
“How much?”  Mandi asked.
“Ve only require a sampling uff…your life force!” the vamp replied cheerfully.
“No thanks,” Mandi said dryly.  “We’ll find our own way.”
Glaring, the undead slunk away and disappeared back into the shadows from which they’d come.

“Orcus’s throne room is known as the Halls of the Risen Grave,” Mandi said, turning to Daelric.  “Do you think you can find it?”
The priest looked at her as if she’d asked if he could lace his boots.  Steepling his fingers, he began to pray, closing his eyes and turning in a circle until his index fingers slowly pointed down a main thoroughfare.  The six companions set out, winding through the maze-like palace.  Ultimately, they found themselves in a large courtyard outside a pair of rusted iron doors.  The air in the place smelled strongly of vinegar.  Two balors stood before the doors, and around their knees clamored a dozen veiled bodaks, who were busy keeping a long line of vampires, death giants and demons in order.  The servants seemed to be checking names in a large book with thick, wet pages made of human skin.  As the Legion arrived, one of the bodaks found something in the book that caused it to cry out in a bone-rattling shriek.  It pointed at one of the vampires, and a blast of sunlight arched down from one of the tower spires above.  An instant later, the line was one position shorter.

Unobtrusively, the Legionnaires joined the queue.  When they finally reached the front, the balors looked at them quizzically.  
“There’s not going to a problem here, is there?” one of them rumbled.  “We’ve been here almost a week without a problem.”
“We’re not looking for trouble,” Mandi said, producing the letter from Iggwilv.  “We’re here to see the Prince of Undeath on urgent business.”
The balor quickly scanned the letter before snickering and handing it back.
“Move along,” he said, pulling open the gate, which screeched and groaned in protest.  On the other side was a short tunnel that lead to the center of the palace.  The dome inside the vast throne room was made of the interior of a truly gargantuan skull, held up by curving pillars of bone that looked like ribs.  At the center of the room loomed a pile of skulls, and atop that rested a throne of black stone inlaid with mithral.  Seated there was the enormous demon prince himself, his eyes burning with a mix of curiosity and contempt as he watched the newcomers approach.  Around him fluttered varrangoins and vampires clutching various papers, half a dozen specters whispering in his twitching ears, and three gaunt ghoul lords attempting to demonstrate some form of necromantic device for his amusement.  Orcus waved a skull-tipped wand, and the undead courtiers retreated as if pushed violently away.  Strange, black tendrils writhed from the black throne, all of them pointing at the only living mortals in the room.  The demon prince waved them forward and coughed in a voice that sounded like thunder.

The Legionnaires began the long walk across the chamber, and as they drew near the throne, each of them felt as if a heavy, unseen weight was pushing down on them.  When they were still sixty feet away, Marius abruptly sank to his knees, and then prostrated himself on the floor.  Several yards further, Daelric succumbed as well.  By the time they reached the base of the skull pile, only Mandi and Tower Cleaver remained standing.  With a shaking hand, and beads of perspiration on her face, Mandi held out the letter.
“Greetings…Lord Orcus…,” she said in a strained voice.  “We are…the Legion…I am called…Ozymandia.  We come…bearing urgent…news…”
As Orcus plucked the letter from her hand, she too collapsed.  Only Cleaver still stood, and effortlessly so.  He looked back at his allies in confusion, shrugged, and then leaned casually against the skull pile.  

Orcus took several minutes reading and rereading the letter.  Finally, he let it drop to the floor and shrugged.
“What do you have to say on your behalf?” his voice boomed.
“Great Lord,” Sepoto said from his prostrate position, “we are honored to test our mettle against your arena, so that we might prove our worth and show you that we are both willing and capable to defeat our mutual enemy….the so-called Prince of Demons.”
Orcus shook his ram-like head and laughed, sending maggots tumbling from his fur onto the floor all around him.  He pointed his skull-topped wand at the companions and said, “You think you are clever, but talk cannot stop Demogorgon’s armies.  If you want my endless legions, you must defeat two of my personal guards and one of my favorite executioners with one of your own.”
He waved his wand and suddenly two female giants, both black-skinned and bald, appeared nearby, flanking a huge, disembodied head, which moved by slithering around on the sickly entrails that protruded from the stump of its neck.
“Choose your champion wisely,” Orcus intoned, “and prepare him in any manner that you see fit.”


----------



## JollyDoc

Standing in the center of the arena, surrounded by stands full of howling demons and undead, Tower Cleaver practically glowed with the power of the defensive and offensive wards draped layer upon layer on him by Mandi and Daelric.  Circling around his head where twenty-two silvery globes.  All Mandi had told him was that would stop his opponents from throwing their own spells at him, which suited the minotaur just fine.  He preferred a stand-up fight.  At the other side of the arena floor stood the two giants, whose names had been announced as Lestra and Orbenent, and the horrible crawling head, who had a name as well, Lertyck Trumbel.  Cleaver thought it odd that a severed head should have a name.  He would have just called it ‘meat.’  Mentally, he shrugged.  It didn’t matter.  He was here for one reason and one reason only.  If the strange creatures he would soon be sinking his axe into wanted to have names, let them.  At least they’d have something to write on their tombstones.

Above the spectators was Orcus’s private box, and there the demon lord sat, with the Legionnaires seated at his feet.  
“This should prove an interesting contest, don’t you think?” Orcus rumbled.
“Very,” Sepoto agreed.  “Would you care to put a small wager on the outcome…my Lord?”
The ram-like head looked down at him, eyes narrowing shrewdly.
“Oh, we already have a wager,” he replied, grinning broadly.  “A very valuable one at that.”
Sepoto swallowed hard.

“Let mortal combat begin!”  Orcus’s voice thundered from above, and immediately the giants were in motion.  Cleaver felt two blasts of power wash over him as two of the circling orbs winked out of existence.  Mandi must have been right.  Not wasting time, the minotaur took to the air, and closed the distance between him and his foes.  As he approached, he saw that each of the giants had what appeared to be clouds of circling, wailing ghosts around them.  Cleaver supposed they were meant to frighten him.  He would show them that he was not so easily intimidated.  He swooped over the giants’ heads, easily parrying the blows they aimed at him with their massive axes.  Another sphere vanished as Lertyck Trumbel released some unknown magic at him.  Then, Cleaver’s own axe came down, slicing into all three foes at once with the force of his mighty swing.  This was going to be easy, he thought, though he had hoped for a better challenge.  At that moment, however, he saw that the crawling head’s wounds were vanishing, leaving nary a scare behind.  In the next instant, Trumbel lunged forward, locking his jaws around the haft of Cleaver’s glowing axe, and wrenching it from his hands.

“Oooohhh!”  Orcus crowed.  “Did you see that?”  He elbowed Sepoto sharply.  “Doesn’t look good for your man!”
“Don’t count Cleaver out yet…my Lord,” the crusader replied, rubbing his sore shoulder.  “He’s not as dumb as he looks.”

As Lertyck Trumbel began shambling away with his axe, Tower Cleaver snorted in rage.  Reaching over his shoulder, he drew a second axe that was slung there.  Though nowhere near as powerful as his Sun Blade, the flaming weapon was still trustworthy and could cut deep.  He swung it wide, catching Trumbel just before he moved out of reach, and slamming the back of the weapon into Lestra on the backswing.  At that moment, however, a greasy black cloud settled over Cleaver, burning like acid as Orbenet encased him in a blight of unholy power.  Strangely, Mandi’s hovering spheres had not blocked the spell, but then another vanished as the retreating Lertyck Trumbel hurled another dweomer Cleaver’s way.  The barbarian brushed aside the pain, cutting loose again with his blade, hammering repeatedly at the pair of death giants.

“I told you so,” Sepoto smiled, looking up at Orcus.
“It’s only a matter of time and attrition,” the demon lord grumbled.  “Behold!”
When Sepoto looked back, he saw that one of the giants appeared to be healing its own wounds, while the crawling head continued to pick off Mandi’s protective spheres.  Suddenly, however, a gasp went through the crowd as Tower Cleaver buried his axe between Lestra’s eyes and the death giantess collapsed.
“I hate to say it…” Sepoto began.
“I haven’t heard any fat lady yet,” Orcus replied.

Cleaver turned from his fallen foe, axe raised towards the second giantess.  When he saw the evil smile appear on Orbenet’s face, however, he quickly whirled around.  Lestra’s body began to writhe and convulse violently as she lurched back to her feet.  Her skin quickly began to shrivel into an emaciated husk, and her abdominal cavity popped open, emitting a noxious cloud.  Inside, there appeared to be a shrunken version of the giantess, clinging to the ribcage as if it were the bars of a prison.  Giggling maniacally, the horrible symbiote began circling away from Cleaver, heading towards Lertyck Trumbel.  As it went, more spheres vanished from around the minotaur as this new abomination added its own powers to those of the crawling head.  Cleaver turned back to Orbenet, who was still smiling.
“What so funny?” he hissed, and then swung his blade low, nearly cleaving the giantess in two as he sank the axe head deep into her torso.  Mouth open, eyes wide, Orbenet sank silently to the ground.
“Who laughing now?”  Cleaver said, and spat on her corpse as he passed by.

“Is that fair?”  Sepoto asked.  “I thought he only had to defeat your three champions, not their reanimated corpses as well.”
“You thought wrong,” Orcus smiled.  “If he were a better tactician, instead of a mindless brute, he would have gone after Trumbel first.  Now he is paying for his lack of foresight.”

If Cleaver were actually paying, the cost was relatively inexpensive.  The thing that had been Lestra went down a second time beneath a withering flurry of swings from his axe.  His blade struck Lertyck Trumbel as well, but each time it did, the crawling head made an odd gulping sound, and its wounds healed as quickly as Cleaver inflicted them.  Then, to Tower Cleaver’s immense irritation, Orbenet’s body rose from the ground, looking exactly like what Lestra had become.  Immediately, the second walking corpse began loosing magic at him, and Lertyck Trumbel joined in as well, causing sphere after sphere to disappear.  This cycle continued for a time, with Cleaver hammering at the crawling head, only to have the creature heal itself immediately, all the while whittling away at Mandi’s protective spheres. Soon, only a handful remained, and Cleaver knew that it was time for a new strategy.  Turning away from Trumbel, he charged back across the arena floor towards Orbenet, and slammed his blade into the newly created undead.  Then, a cheer from the crowd caused him to whip his head around, just as Lertyck Trumbel’s bulk heaved itself towards him, stripping his axe from his hands again.  The crawling head now held both of Cleaver’s weapons in its sickly tendrils.

“Now that’s what I call tactics!”  Orcus whooped.  “Do you see the genius in Trumbel’s plan?”
“Umm…not really,” Sepoto said.  “What I see is one of the giants down…twice…and one a shambling corpse, and Cleaver’s barely got a scratch on him.”
“Wait….just wait,” Orcus giggled.  “It won’t be long now…”

And in that, the Prince of Undeath couldn’t have been more correct.  Tower Cleaver’s eyes blazed with red fire as the rage overcame him.  Snorting and bellowing, he leaped at Lertyck Trumbel, seizing the haft of his Sun Blade and wrenching it violently from the crawling head’s tentacles.  Then, with a roar that rivaled the roar of the crowd, Cleaver raised the weapon high, where it glowed with the light of the sun itself, and drove it down repeatedly, again and again, into Lertyck Trumbel’s bloated face.  Within seconds, the crawling head was a corpse once more.  Almost as an afterthought, Cleaver turned and neatly decapitated Orbenet.

Orcus remained silent for several long seconds, and Sepoto and his companions held their breath, waiting.  Finally, the demon lord chortled to himself.
“Your strength is great,” he said.  “You might have a chance.  My armies will march against Gaping Maw, legions upon legions, sweeping the pretender’s armies before them.  I promise that.  I hope that you do not find Demogorgon before I and my generals do.  I will tear him in half and animate his divided corpse so that his two heads can grovel at the foot of my throne until they crumble to dust!  You have slaughtered some of my favorite minions, but I forgive you.  However, my armies will require weeks to mobilize and travel to Gaping Maw.  Gather your other allies.  If your plan fails, know that my followers will find your bones and bring them to me.  If this is treachery, you will not survive it.  Leave my kingdom now, before I change my mind.  When you make your move against Demogorgon, I will be there to win your battle for you!”


----------



## JollyDoc

With Orcus on board, that left only three potential allies for the Legion to recruit.  According to Iggwilv’s advice, the first of these that they should approach was Malcanthet, the Queen of Succubi.  Her realm was Shendilavri, the 570th layer of the Abyss.  At first glance, her domain seemed like a slice of Heaven rather than its opposite.  The temperature was constantly balmy, and the landscape was one of green, rolling hills, sweeping panoramic mountains, and a lush ocean, but Mandi knew what lay beneath the façade.  Shendilavri was a paradise for Malcanthet alone, and its every charming feature existed only to lull visitors into a false sense of safety.  Its truth lay hidden in its expansive torture gardens, flensing pits and pleasure dungeons.

The River Styx was unusually crowded as it wound through the beautiful city of Miomanta, Malcanthet’s summer home.  On closer inspection, however, most of the river traffic seemed to consist of black barges, crewed by vrock’s and hezrou, bearing cargo of damned souls.  The city itself was a mix of beauty and ramshackle slums, with a sprawling central district known commonly as the Fleshpits.  Surrounding this central expanse were the homes of Malcanthet’s thirteen closest servitors, the Radiant Sisters.  Each manor was modeled blasphemously to temples dedicated to gods of Law and Good.  But the palace that towered over the city from its tallest hill was Miomanta’s most obvious landmark, with its walls of pink and cream-colored marble, its red tile roof, and its many windows that reminded the viewer of unfolding flowers.  Its towers were topped by glowing domes upon which dozens of succubi roosted.

As the Sea Wyvern entered the harbor, a series of shouts drew the attention of those gathered on deck.  A barge was unloading, and another was just leaving the dock.  A six-armed marilith waved at the Wyvern, pointing at the recently vacated space.  Mandi guided the caravel masterfully into its slip.  Cautioning the crew to remain onboard, the Legionnaires disembarked.
“Nourishment,” the marilith said as she glanced at Tower Cleaver and jotted something down in a ledger.  
“Crafter,” she said, indicating Mandi.  “Labor,” she pointed out Sepoto. “Entertainment,” she said to Marius, and then, “Nourishment, nourishment,” she indicated Daelric and Octurus last.
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Sepoto said, clearing his throat.  The marilith suddenly had six weapons drawn, one in each hand.  A second marilith had joined her at this point.  
“Please,” the goliath said, placatingly and holding up arms to show that he was unarmed.  “We bear messages and greeting to your mistress from Iggwilv, Orcus and the Court of Stars.”
For a moment, it seemed as if the marilith might burst out laughing, but then she seemed to think better of it.
“Very well,” she said in exasperation, “you may pass, but be warned, you must be ‘properly clothed,’ before you are allowed an audience. You must all abide by the…dress code.  This means all of you bare-ass naked.”  She smiled wickedly.  “You may wear cloaks and jewelry, but naught else.”
Mandi glanced back at her wide-eyed companions, and then shrugged.  “You heard the lady,” she said, “so start stripping, boys.”


----------



## JollyDoc

The six companions paraded through the streets of Shendilavri, but not many gave them a second glance, though several nodded appreciatively at Tower Cleaver and Sepoto.  Soon, they reached the palace and found the doors flung wide.  Inside, no matter where they looked, naked demons cavorted with writhing humans.  In many corners, they spotted exhausted, slack-jawed souls slumped against the rose-colored walls, their eyes as empty as the Abyss, their flesh strangely puckered and withered.  The floors were littered with bodies, some sleeping, some half-faded into incorporeality.  The demons, however, did not seem tired at all.  All of them were alert, lusty and active, as if feeding off the exertions of the groaning souls around them.  

For what seemed like hours, they roamed the decadent halls in search of the throne room.  After awhile, Octurus took to muttering to himself, his eyes darting this way and that as his hands involuntarily clenched and unclenched at his sides.  Eventually, they stumbled into a vast chamber, packed with young, strong humans, elves and other mortals, all of them shining examples of beauty and virility.  The room was near body-temperature, and the air was filled with moans and cries, some delighted, others surely the sounds of despair.  At least three succubi and a dozen vrocks were there, feeding on the flesh and souls around them rather than taking part in the more pervasive activities.  At the far end of the hall was Malcanthet herself.  She radiated a deadly beauty that made it difficult to look directly at her.  She lounged upon a grasping, undulant divan made of tangled human arms that caressed and supported her with loving and gentle awe.  

Finding no way to easily pushed through the throng of naked flesh, the Legionnaires took to the air, flying above the orgy to land before Malcanthet’s throne.  As they did so, new arms grew from the ground around them, lifting each of them gently off the floor and cradling them in impromptu chairs made of dozens of hands.  Both Octurus and Tower Cleaver rose to their feet immediately, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

“My, my, my,” the succubus queen said, at length.  “What fine-looking visitors!  I do so enjoy volunteers.  Welcome to the Palace of Flesh and Delight.  How long are you staying?”
Around the six companions, the room had gone silent and still.  Malcanthet held their gazes, stroking her chin with the tip of one long, black fingernail.  
“My Lady,” Daelric said, approaching and bowing low, well aware that Malcanthet could easily see through his illusion of invisibility, “we have come to seek your aid for the coming war that we shall wage against Demogorgon, the Prince of Demons.”
“He is my lover!”  Malcanthet said, indignantly.  “How can you dare suggest I would side against him?”
She paused for a moment, and then began to laugh.  When she did, every demon and every mortal in the room immediately laughed as well.  When she finally stopped, they did as well.
“Umm…yes…well,” Daelric continued, clearing his throat, “as I was saying, we have already enlisted the aid of others, and it is our hope that…”
“I can see now why you remain invisible,” Malcanthet interrupted, raking her eyes over the young priest’s body.  “I didn’t think it was that cold in her.”  She smiled mockingly.  Daelric’s face flushed crimson.
“My Lady,” Sepoto interjected, “what my companion is trying to say is that we need your help in the battle to come.  If we…”
“A goliath,” Malcanthet interjected again, “and in more than name only!”  This time her smile was pure lust as her eyes drank in Sepoto’s physique.  “They don’t call you ‘powerful build’ for nothing, do they?”
This time it was Sepoto’s turn to blush, but he continued with his plea, recounting their tale to date.  When he finally finished, Malcanthet began to laugh again, once more joined by every occupant in the hall.  At last she stopped once more, and instantly, all other laughter in the room ended, except for one voice that quickly turned into a scream that was cut off abruptly.
“Oh, you are treacherous,” she purred, “and I like that.  You remind me of Graz’zt, in a piddling, mortal way.  I might help you, but first I need one of you to look into my eyes.  And if you can survive that, I might help you.  Or I might not.  You’re really in no position to bargain.  You!” she pointed at Tower Cleaver, and the minotaur’s face blanched.  “Step up and kneel!  You know you’ll never have a chance for bliss like this again.  Look into my eyes and tell me you’d like a kiss to seal this bargain.”
Tower Cleaver shook his head violently, backing several steps away.  Mandi sighed in exasperation, while Malcanthet rolled her eyes.
“Is there not one among you man enough to accept my offer?”
Sepoto stepped forward, and knelt at the demon queen’s feet.  Stoically, he raised his eyes, and locked gazes with the succubus.  Instantly, he felt as if he were drowning in her eyes, and as she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, he was totally immersed, swept away in raw passion.  Finally, a sting of pain brought him back to himself as Malcanthet nipped playfully at his neck, drawing the slightest trickle of blood, and leaving behind a mark in the shape of a pair of feminine lips pierced by a spike.  Her own lips then traveled to his ear, where they began to whisper,
“You’ve served me well so far, returning that silly idol to that old bat and then releasing that wretch, Shami-Amourae.  Just like I planned.  So don’t balk now, my precious little puppet!  Demogorgon has two heads, and has always sought to unify them.  His two greatest generals, Bagromar and Tetradarian, are clones, each representing half his nature.  The more bestial of the two has just returned from a great success in the Blood War.  He rests with his army in a mountain camp on Pazunia, very near to my fortress of Vanelon there.  His success has gone to his head, filled him with ideas that he’s the better of the two.  Someone as delightful as you should have no problem convincing General Bagromar to betray his cloned brother, hmmmm?”
She then licked Sepoto’s ear and smiled a full-fangs smile, and then pushed him away before turning to the rest of the Legionnaires.
“There,” she said, “that wasn’t so bad, was it?  Now, go fetch my old friend Crimson from her home and I’ll give you the Iron Flask of Tuerney the Merciless to aid in your efforts.  Or, if you’d prefer, I can tell Demogorgon everything about what you’re up to?”
She tapped her fingers in irritation on the scales of a marilith that sidled up to her.  All around the audience chamber, demons were pouring in.
“I’m waiting,” she said, “and I hate waiting…”


----------



## Burningspear

That has got to be Cleaver, me thinks , and also, i was hoping i would receive some personal info, but alas not yet..


----------



## JollyDoc

*SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER*

1)  The Legion goes in search of Crimson, and encounters some Lathanderite missionaries along the way.

2)  Crimson, when found, becomes Mandi's "puppet."

3)  Malcanthet "rewards" both Crimson and the Legionnaires

4)  Next Stop:  the Blood Shallows, where an aspect of Obox-Ob is rumored to lair

5)  Sepoto and his new mistress have a difference of opinion.  It's not nice to make Malcanthet angry...you wouldn't like her when she's angry.

6)  Obox-ob is freed...mayhem ensues.

7)  Tower Cleaver gets stoned.

8)  An exalted, Lawful Good, Tyr-worshipping Aspect of Demogorgon????  You've got to read it to believe it!!!

9)  An ally in the coming battle is lost, and Sepoto takes steps to redeem his endangered soul.


----------



## Supar

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Standing in the center of the arena, surrounded by stands full of howling demons and undead, Tower Cleaver practically glowed with the power of the defensive and offensive wards draped layer upon layer on him by Mandi and Daelric. Circling around his head where twenty-two silvery globes




The total amount of spells on cleaver at this fight? 23! joke at the table was if TC had sex that night he would have conceived a new god of magic


----------



## killjoy68116

I can only shudder to think of what TC's Character sheet must've looked like!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

What was the sum of all the spell levels?


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc, 
great update, this last one! Sepoto really fraternitize a lot with those demon lords and ladies, doesn't he... 




			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 8)  An exalted, Lawful Good, Tyr-worshipping Aspect of Demogorgon????  You've got to read it to believe it!!!



That does sound a tad unorthodox. Mandi's handiwork, no?


----------



## carborundum

Mirror of Opposition, maybe?


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> JollyDoc,
> great update, this last one! Sepoto really fraternitize a lot with those demon lords and ladies, doesn't he...
> 
> Yes, he does...which I think has caused him to have take stock of his beliefs...
> 
> 
> 
> That does sound a tad unorthodox. Mandi's handiwork, no?





Ding!!  You guessed it!


----------



## JollyDoc

A QUEEN DENIED

It didn’t take long for the Legionnaires to discover who Crimson was.  On their way back to reclaim their clothing from the Sea Wyvern, passersby were only too willing to tell them that she was one of the Radiant Sisters.  The Sisters were comprised of thirteen lilitus who served as Malcanthet’s favored minions, functioning as slavers, singers, assassins, generals, and lovers.  Their manors were modeled after churches devoted to the gods of Good and Law.  Crimson’s chosen deity was Lathander, the patron of Light.  

When the six companions reached the manor, however, they found it in shambles.  The narthex and sanctuary were strewn with rubble and no roof covered the building.  It didn’t appear that anyone had lived there in quite some time.  Yet Mandi’s instincts told her differently, and when she pulled a slim wand from her cloak and spoke a command word, it pointed her towards a pile of debris in a far corner.  Once Tower Cleaver had effortlessly cleared away the heavy stones, a trap door was revealed beneath.  A stone staircase led down on the opposite side, and the group proceeded with caution.

The stair opened into a long, low room that contained seven stone biers, each of which bore a shroud-wrapped shape.  Six individuals stood around the biers.  They were men and women dressed in white robes and wearing the symbol of Lathander around their necks, though the medallions had lost their luster and seemed caked with some sort of brown substance.
“Are you pilgrims?” one of the men asked as the Legionnaires entered.  “It has been long since we’ve had visitors here.”
“Who are you?”  Mandi inquired.  “Where is Crimson?”
“Crimson?” the man looked puzzled.  “We know of no such person.  As for us, we are missionaries, here to bring Lathander’s light to the darkest of souls.”
“You’re lying,” Daelric interrupted.  “I can see the taint of evil upon you.”  His eyes flared with golden light.
“I’m afraid we’ve been too long upon this plane,” the priest said, shaking his head.  “Its foul nature all but smothers us, yet our work here is vital, and we are called to remain.”
“Whatever,” Sepoto said impatiently.  “We’re looking for someone, and if you can’t give us any information, then you won’t mind us looking around a bit.”
“Of course not,” the priest said, gesturing towards a door on the far side of the room.  “Be our guests.”

The company made their way across the chamber, keeping watchful eyes upon the priests, who smiled and bowed as they passed.  It was only when Mandi, bringing up the rear, was almost to the far side that she caught a faint glint from the mouth of a nearby priestess.  When she looked again she saw that the woman’s eyes had turned blood-red and fangs protruded over her bottom lip.  Suddenly, all six of the vampiric priests were in motion, and dark shadows swirled around them.  The shadows quickly condensed and coalesced into humanoid shapes, which then reached their incorporeal talons out for the Legionnaires.  Mandi smiled, knowing full well that they were safe from the deadly touch of the undead, thanks to Daelric’s forethought in warding them all against such tactics.  But that wasn’t the extent of Daelric’s ingenuity.  Once he saw the shadows, he quickly uttered a prayer, and the ephemeral forms of the creatures suddenly became solid as his magic forced them completely into the material world.

Sepoto and Octurus ignored the shadows completely, instead moving towards the vampires.  Their weapons swept before them, but the steel did not bite deep when it struck the pale, white flesh of the blood suckers, and the wounds began to close as soon as they were inflicted.  Then, from the center of the chamber, light flared as bright as the sun.  There, Tower Cleaver stood like a monument, whirling his axe above his head where it flared with white fire.  Instinctively, the vampires hissed and cowered from the burning light, fleeing for the shadowed corners of the chamber.  Suddenly, Mandi stepped into the ring of Cleaver’s light, where she began summoning her own magic.  As she chanted, a sphere of pure darkness formed between her hands, and she hurled it towards the nearest priest.  When it struck the vampire, the creature simply ceased to exist, vanishing in a puff of smoke.  At Mandi’s command, the sphere then sped towards a second vampire, snuffing it out as well, before moving on to a third.

Meanwhile, the combined efforts of Sepoto and Octurus finally overcame the unholy toughness of the vampire’s flesh, and the creature dissolved into mist which rapidly seeped beneath the far door.  The final two vampires shrieked in rage, then vanished within clouds of shadow.  Tower Cleaver stopped his spinning axe and moved to the center of the room, and waited.  When the six shadows came for him, as he knew they would, he spun his axe once more, but this time it was a deadly whirlwind that cleaved through each of the undead one after the other, leaving nothing but piles of ash in its wake.

“Someone’s coming,” Mandi announced as the group surveyed the scene.  Her interdiction ward told her when anyone was attempting to teleport into her vicinity, and so she was not caught by surprise when Crimson materialized in the center of the chamber.  At first glance, the demon was beautiful, her beauty enhanced by the scarlet halo that surrounded her red hair.  But then the eye was drawn to the charred stumps of wings that protruded from her back, the cloven hooves that served as her feet, and to the four writhing, stinger tipped tails that sprouted from her back.  Mandi took it all in with bored disdain.
“Malcanthet wants to see you,” she said, but before Crimson could reply, the sorceress spoke another spell, transforming the lilitu into a wooden doll.


----------



## JollyDoc

Crimson stood before Malcanthet, motionless, rooted to the spot by the succubus queen’s hypnotic gaze.  The latter still lounged upon her fleshy throne, but the rest of the hall was empty, save for the Legionnaires and the twelve other Radiant Sisters, who were arrayed in a semi-circle behind Crimson.  No word was spoken, yet something passed between the lilitu and Malcanthet.  Telepathy?  Pure hate?  Reconciliation?  The answer was made abundantly apparent as, with a barely perceptible nod, Malcanthet sent the other Sisters to work.

Crimson’s death was not quick, and by the time her sisters had reduced her to gory ribbons, both Sepoto and Tower Cleaver had left the throne room.  Malcanthet’s derisive stare followed them, especially the crusader.  The lilitus’ task complete, they bowed to their queen and, with a few sly looks and winks to the remaining Legionnaires, teleported away.  Malcanthet then turned her attention back to her guests as a small army of deformed rutterkin servants skittered into the chamber to clean the bloody mess with their tongues.
“You may have the mad wizard’s flask,” she said in a voice that sounded almost tired.  With a flick of her wrist, she carelessly tossed the artifact across the room.  It clanged as it struck the floor, bounced, and then finally rolled to a stop.
“A pity,” the succubus continued.  “I’ll miss Crimson, but she had it coming.  I’m sure the Sisters will find a replacement for me to try out soon enough.”  She smiled again.  “You might not want to be here when they get back.  You’re too fragile to get caught up in that.  I’m sure you have other things to take care of before you head up to Gaping Maw, now don’t you my dearies?  Move along now.  We’ll have a chance to talk again later.  In the meantime, I’m sure your friend Iggwilv will have a few nominees to use that flask on, hmm?”
________________________________________________________________

“I see you made quite the impression,” the Witch Queen said with a smirk as she noticed Sepoto’s new tattoo.  The goliath cleared his throat and pulled his collar higher.
“In any event, you have the flask, and that is what’s important.”
“Yes, but what exactly is it that we have?”  Mandi asked.  
“That simple looking flask that you hold was crafted long ago by the wizard tyrant Tuerny,” Iggwilv explained as if lecturing a child.  “He promptly used it to capture an aspect of Graz’zt and forced him to ravage the armies and holdings of his enemies.  During one battle, the aspect turned the tables and captured Tuerny in the flask.  After returning to the Abyss, he transformed the wizard into a dretch as a slave.  In time, Tuerny gained power by successfully leading the demonic forces in the Blood War, and became a nalfeshnee demon.  Miraculously, he maintained his personality and wizardly skills throughout this evolution, but during that time, he lost track of his flask.  The artifact became the blueprint for countless lesser versions, but the original remains the most potent of them all.  You see, the flask was designed to capture and command demons.  It can hold up to one-hundred of them at once, or it can contain one aspect.  Which brings us to your next quest.  Mandi, I know that you and Marius have heard of the fate of Obox-ob.”
The pair nodded.
“But I will enlighten your companions,” she continued.  “Long ago, Obox-ob, an obyrith lord, was himself the Prince of Demons.  His reign came to an end, however, when he was killed by the Queen of Chaos.  She also hunted down and destroyed any of his aspects she could find, but she missed one.  That one retreated to the depths of the Abyss, to the 663rd layer, and there on Zionyn it has slowly returned to its previous power.  However, what is not common knowledge is that a second aspect also escaped the Queen’s notice by entering a state of imprisonment at the heart of the Blood Shallows, the 81st Abyssal layer.  I’m not certain exactly where this aspect’s resting place is, but I do know that Demogorgon has seized one of the largest hills on the plane, a place called Feedgut, to serve as the site for a storehouse and depot for war supplies.  It is my belief that Obox-ob’s aspect lies beneath this hill, and that by casting a Freedom spell at that site, it may be released.  At that point, Tuerney’s flask could be used to capture it, allowing it to be transported to Gaping Maw, where it can do the most damage to Demogorgon.  There is only a slight problem, however.  The flask already contains several demons.  It must be emptied before it can hold Obox-ob’s aspect.  I would be happy to take care of this matter for you, if you wish.”
Mandi looked at her companions, and then nodded, handing the crystal stoppered iron flask to Iggwilv.  The Witch Queen pulled the stopper free, and instantly smoke began to pour from the open lip.  The mist rapidly coalesced into the shapes of seven figures:  three vrocks, one nalfeshnee, two mariliths and a balor.  They all roared in rage and anger when they saw the Legionnaires around them, but then their eyes met Iggwilv’s.  Their faces fell in horror, and they quickly bowed their heads in obeisance.
“Mistress,” they said in unison.
“You are dismissed,” she replied, “but you will all make yourselves available at my call.”
They all nodded vigorously and promptly vanished.
“Now,” Iggwilv said, handing the empty flask back to Mandi, “you have more business to attend to.”


----------



## JollyDoc

The Styx emptied into the Blood Shallows along the border of a large marshland, the waters of which were blood-red and gave off a rank, sulfuric odor.  Overhead, the sky was bone white, with wispy blue clouds drifting by.  Scattered throughout the marsh were several areas of high ground, but one towered above the rest, approximately a half-mile from where the Wyvern lay at anchor.  This, undoubtedly was Feedgut, and as Iggwilv had said, a walled compound of some sort was visible atop it.

The six companions disembarked and stood upon the marshy bog as Daelric wove his usual complement of protective auras about them.  It was while he was in the midst of one such prayer, one which not only would protect his companions from physical harm, but would also make them immune to attempts at mind control, that he felt a blast of power strike out at him, attempting to disrupt his concentration.  To his utter shock, the spell had come from Sepoto.
“What in the Hells was that?” the priest asked, his face flushing with anger.
Sepoto grabbed his head, his breath coming in short gasps.
“I’m…free…at least…for now…” he panted.
“What are you talking about?”  Daelric shouted.  “Free from what?  And since when are you capable of magic on that scale?”
“Malcanthet…,” Sepoto snarled.  “The mark she placed upon me…somehow it lets her control me.  She didn’t want your spell to disrupt that.  It was her!”
‘Now, now, my pet.’  The voice came from within Sepoto’s mind.  It was the Succubus Queen herself.  ‘You should behave and do as you are told.  If you don’t, I promise you, I can make things very difficult for you…and your friends.’
“No!”  the crusader shouted aloud.  “Get out of my head!  I won’t listen to you!”
‘Oh, I think you will.”  Malcanthet’s voice had grown cold.  
Another blast of power emanated from the goliath, but this time it was centered upon himself, and it quickly ripped away a number of the wards Daelric had just placed.  Then another came, and more of the spells were negated.
‘Are we done yet?’  Malcanthet hissed.  ‘Are you prepared to be reasonable?’
“Never!” Sepoto rasped.  “Daelric, do something!”
At that moment, Mandi stepped forward and seized Sepoto’s wrist.
“Everyone link hands!” she commanded.  “I’m getting us up to that fort, but as soon as we’re there, Daelric, fix this!”
______________________________________________________

Moments later, the Legionnaires appeared atop the hill, in the middle of a large encampment of demons.  Numerous tents were pitched all throughout the enclosure, but in the center of it all stood a large, stone building that appeared to be a warehouse of some sort.  As the company arrived, Mandi quickly assumed the shape of a large balor demon, her skin emblazoned with numerous symbols of the demon lord Graz’zt.  She quickly distanced herself from her companions and set about the Freedom incantation Iggwilv had instructed her in.  No sooner had the words left her mouth, than the entire hill began to shake and rumble.  The demons began to panic, realizing too late that they had been invaded.  Before any of them could act, however, a towering tangle of chitonous limbs, writhing insectile arms, stinging tails, and a horrific stalk terminating in a three-faced, one-mouthed nightmare erupted from the ground in a shower of stone and soil.  The aspect of Obox-ob had been freed.

The demonic army, comprised of enormous, bull-like goristros, babaus, rutterkin and bar-lgura, fled in rabid fear as the aspect emerged.  The horrific being gazed this way and that, looking for something, anything, to vent its rage against.  Finally, its six eyes fixed upon Mandi.  The sorceress’s blood ran cold as she was pinned by that gaze.  Trembling, she held out the flask, focusing all of her will upon it.  For a moment, she was afraid nothing would happen.  Then, incredibly, Obox-ob’s aspect began to dissolve into a putrid mist, which then flowed rapidly into the flask.  As the last of it disappeared, Mandi quickly replaced the crystal stopper.  

Meanwhile, Marius and Octurus had used the distraction to make a dash for the warehouse.  Throwing open the doors, they saw that it was stuffed to the rafters with materiel for the war effort, most of it unidentifiable.  Cautiously, they entered the cavernous darkness.  Behind, them, Sepoto made to follow, but as he did so, Malcanthet’s mocking laughter sounded in his head and another blast of magic lashed out, this time at Tower Cleaver.  The minotaur grunted as the spell struck, tearing through Daelric’s precious wards.  Then Sepoto felt the succubus turn her attention to Mandi.
“Watch out!” he shouted in warning, and the sorceress whirled towards him, sensing the magical assault building.  Quick as a flash, she vanished, transporting herself across the parade ground to the opposite side of the warehouse.  Sepoto tried desperately to shut Malcanthet out, but to no avail.  The Queen’s magic was too strong.  So, in desperation, he did the only thing he could think of.  He called upon Savras’s power, and speaking the words to a potent prayer, he engulfed himself within a sphere of null-magic, shutting down all of his own dweomers.  To his immense relief, however, Malcanthet’s voice went silent.

Mandi, still in her balor form, felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise as she crouched behind the building.  Turning slowly, she felt hot breath on her back, and heard an angry snort.  Standing directly behind her was a huge creature with two baboon-like heads fused together at the back.  One of its snouts was full of shark-like serrated teeth, while the other was only slightly less monstrous.  Its body was covered in a mixture of scales and tough, bristly fur, which formed a sort of mane between its two skulls.  Its tentaclular arms ended in immense pincers, and its eyes wept blood.  Without a doubt, it was another of Demogorgon’s aspects.  As Mandi’s eyes widened, Tower Cleaver rounded the warehouse corner.  Faster than she would have ever believed possible, one of the aspect’s claws shot forward, seizing the minotaur around the throat.  A moment later, a surge of magical power flowed down its arm and into the struggling barbarian, turning his entire body instantly to stone!  A half-heartbeat after, Daelric stumbled onto the scene.  The priest’s face drained of blood as he beheld the tableau.  Knowing that his own life would be forfeit without Tower Cleaver as a buffer, he ran towards the minotaur statue, calling upon one of his most powerful prayers.  When he laid his hand upon Cleaver, the barbarian shuddered as his body transformed to flesh once more.

During this brief exchange, Mandi had managed to maneuver herself behind the aspect.  While it was distracted, she reached out, touching her fingers between its twin heads…and then sinking them into its skull like a hot knife through butter.  In a moment that seemed like an eternity, she knew everything about the aspect.  His name was Gorgant the Two-Faced, and he was the result of Demogorgon’s early work in demonic growth and hybridization.  He had been sent to this out of the way gulag to be, in his opinion, a glorified babysitter for the stockpiles of supplies and shock troops.  He was bitter about his lot, longing for the glory of the Bloodwar.  He knew nothing of the coming war or the Savage Tide, so his use to Mandi was minimal…except as a source of amusement.  Like a master painter before a blank canvas, she began twisting and manipulating Gorgant’s mind, forming and reforming memories, opinions, beliefs, desires, motivations…everything.  She completely and viciously raped the demon’s psyche.  She smiled as she withdrew her hand.  Gorgant’s eyes blinked rapidly, momentarily glazed over.  He remembered his past failures in Demogorgan’s eyes, and the horrid tortures he had suffered at the hands of his sire.  He remembered being banished from the Abyss and wandering the paths of the World Tree until he had found himself in Celestia.  There he had found redemption and become sanctified in the court of Tyr.  He had been remade and forced to see the error of his ways.  He had been given a new reason for being…to destroy all that his father had ever created.  That was why he’d been sent to the Blood Shallows, to wreak havoc upon Demogorgon’s supply lines.  The beings gathered before him were allies.  They had freed him when his mind had temporarily been usurped by the Succubus Queen Malcanthet.  Now he was liberated once more.
“Your work is done here, friend,” Mandi said, kindly.  “The demons have been routed, and we shall destroy the supply house.  You may return home and tell your Lord of your accomplishments.”
With a wave of her hand, Mandi opened a Gate, and on the opposite side could be seen the idyllic landscape and ivory towers of Celestia.
“Thank you,” Gorgant said in his stereophonic, gurgling voice.  “I can never repay you.”
With that, he turned and stepped through the portal, which snapped shut behind him.

“You are Evil,” Daelric smiled.
“That’s a matter of opinion,” she replied with mock resentment.  “Have I not redeemed a soul surely damned otherwise?”
“Yes, only to send him to his doom,” Daelric said.
“Who’s to say?”   Mandi shrugged.  “Perhaps the Tyrants will truly have mercy on him and offer him salvation after all.  But that is not our concern.  What is our concern is how to remove Malcanthet’s mark from Sepoto.  Have you come up with anything yet?”
“No,” Daelric shook his head, “but give me a moment.”

While Marius and Mandi set about gutting the warehouse, Daelric sat down in meditative prayer, Communing across the cosmos with Shaundekal.  Questions he asked of his patron, and answers he received, but only short and cryptic ones.  Gradually, however, he sifted through the responses until he was certain he knew what had to be done.  Rising, he walked towards Sepoto.
“When I give you the word,” he instructed, “undo your spell.”
Sepoto nodded, and when Daelric said, he removed the anti-magic field.  For an instant he felt Malcanthet’s rage threaten to consume him, but then Daelric’s own magic seized him, and then pain as the mark of the succubus queen was torn bloodily from his flesh, leaving an ugly red scar in its wake.  But he was free.  Free.
_____________________________________________________________

The Legionnaires searched Gorgant’s tent before they departed for the Sea Wyvern, hoping to find some useful information of Demogorgon’s battle plans.  Instead they found a large white chest made of viper tree wood.  Inside were what appeared to be four-hundred perfectly cut diamonds, yet Mandi knew them for what they truly were…innocent souls, which demons often used as currency.  She told the others of this before parceling out the gems.  On any market, they would fetch a king’s ransom.  For several long moments, Sepoto stared at the gemstones.  His experience with Malcanthet had caused something inside him to fundamentally shift.  He realized just how far he had traveled down a dark, dark path.  It seemed so long ago that he had sworn himself to Savras, and it also seemed that, of late, that oath had lost its meaning.  Until now.  Wordlessly, he raised his chain-wrapped fist and smashed each of the diamonds.  As he did so, brilliant light flared from them as the trapped souls were released.  The others watched him, silent.  Then, to the amazement of the group, Tower Cleaver placed his own gems at his feet and then ground them under his hoof.
“Tower Cleaver tired of demons and darkness,” the minotaur said as he turned and walked away.  “Want to see the sun again.”
Octurus gathered up his own supply and placed them before Sepoto, nodding.  Once more, the goliath freed the captured spirits.  
“You guys are nuts,” Marius chuckled as he stuffed his own pockets full of the diamonds, shaking his head as he turned away.  Daelric stood a moment later and then shrugged, pocketing his own cut.
“Who am I to pass judgment?” he said.  “If they are truly innocent, then their own patrons will recall them sooner or later.”
Soon, only Mandi and Sepoto still stood together.  The sorceress calmly tucked her own pouch of gems into her robes….but later that night, aboard the Sea Wyvern, after Marius had leveled Feedgut with fire and earth magic, she crept silently to Sepoto’s door and laid the pouch down outside it.


----------



## Leinart

So...what happened to gorgant? I have to know!


----------



## JollyDoc

Leinart said:
			
		

> So...what happened to gorgant? I have to know!





All in good time, dear reader.  All in good time.  Rest assured that we haven't seen the last of Gorgant the Lawful Good Exalted of Tyr Aspect of Demogorgon...


----------



## Hammerhead

Mandi used a Programmed Amnesia, right? Doesn't that require 10 minutes to cast?


----------



## zerotkatama

Sounds like she actually used Mindrape, from Book of Vile Darkness.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Fantastic !!! Removing that mark - they are so resourceful. Now it is gone and they have the flask full of Obox-obbody badness. 


			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> All in good time, dear reader.  All in good time.  Rest assured that we haven't seen the last of Gorgant the Lawful Good Exalted of Tyr Aspect of Demogorgon...



Thank you for that! I don't know the spell, but if the effects are permanent, it might have been an option to keep him as ally/pet of the Legion. If not, sending him to Celestia was a very amusing ending for the aspect of Big D. 

Who's next? Lawful good Iggwilv? Lawful good Orcus?


----------



## JollyDoc

zerotkatama said:
			
		

> Sounds like she actually used Mindrape, from Book of Vile Darkness.




Mind Rape indeed...


----------



## Joachim

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Thank you for that! I don't know the spell, but if the effects are permanent, it might have been an option to keep him as ally/pet of the Legion. If not, sending him to Celestia was a very amusing ending for the aspect of Big D.
> 
> Who's next? Lawful good Iggwilv? Lawful good Orcus?




No...the effects are not permanent...they are instantaeous, which is infiinitely worse.  Good luck for Gorgant getting someone on Celestia to _miracle_ his memories back, and I am equally willing to bet that no one there is going to want to cast _atonement_ on him so that he can return to being Chaotic Evil...not that he would want that at this point either, and definitely not in the interest of the celestial being stupid enough to do that.


----------



## gfunk

zerotkatama said:
			
		

> Sounds like she actually used Mindrape, from Book of Vile Darkness.




Nice use of that spell, Joachim.  I always wanted to try it out after reading it.  At first, when Joe mentioned this spell in his Sunday night preview, I thought you had cast _Sanctify the Wicked_ from the BoED.


----------



## Skyduke

Brilliant use of Mindrape... Essentially, she converted an avatar of Demogorgon to good. Using a spell with an evil descriptor to gain the forces of heaven a powerful ally. Pretty strange!

And well... I think even if he stumbles on celestials, they won't attack him in any way. They'll check for evil, and emprison him, only to finally find out he isn't using any kind of magic to shield is alignment, and let him frolic freely in the heavens with them...


----------



## Joachim

gfunk said:
			
		

> Nice use of that spell, Joachim.  I always wanted to try it out after reading it.  At first, when Joe mentioned this spell in his Sunday night preview, I thought you had cast _Sanctify the Wicked_ from the BoED.




Thanks.  To be 100% honest, after it went down my internal monologue was like, "Wow.  That was kind of Entropian right there."


----------



## demiurge1138

I forgot about that aspect! I thought that that's what Mandi would do to Bagromar (or was it Tetradian?) to make him an ally.

Demiurge out.


----------



## JollyDoc

*SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER*

1)  The group sets out to meet Bagromar, and after dealing with his "Minister of Entrance," they proceed to plead their case to the general.

2)  On the way out of Bagromar's camp, Demogorgon sends a friendly message to the Legion to keep their noses out of his business.

3)  With all the pieces in place, it's time for the Legion to convene a council of war, which features a guest appearance of the absolute last person you'd expect to see again in this tale.

4)  D-Day arrives, and the final chapter in our play begins when the Legion storms the beaches of Gaping Maw...


----------



## Hammerhead

The last person we'd expect to see? Maybe Ferox or Xerxes? I know I wouldn't see that coming.


----------



## Quartz

gfunk said:
			
		

> I thought you had cast _Sanctify the Wicked_ from the BoED.




But that takes a year, doesn't it? And costs a level to boot.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> 3)  With all the pieces in place, it's time for the Legion to convene a council of war, which features a guest appearance of the absolute last person you'd expect to see again in this tale.



Damn, then it can't be Anwar. I've been looking forward to his return ever since his demise.   


Did the group really decide to move into battle with the Malcanthet issue unresolved? I would have thought dealing with the Mark first and then entering the fort would be the way to go. Or is the Legion so powerful that they don't fear small things like aspects of demon lords anymore?


----------



## Minkster

Well the "issue" Did not come up untill Daelric went to buff me with a Sublime revelry which makes you immune to Mind Affecting so she tried to counter it and didnt and that was the first time I had the chance to tell them. So it kind of Happened all at the same time.


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Damn, then it can't be Anwar. I've been looking forward to his return ever since his demise.
> 
> 
> Did the group really decide to move into battle with the Malcanthet issue unresolved? I would have thought dealing with the Mark first and then entering the fort would be the way to go. Or is the Legion so powerful that they don't fear small things like aspects of demon lords anymore?




They thought the problem was solved when Sepoto was out from under the Domination, but it wasn't.  They didn't have the time to discover how to remove it then and there, and Mandi wanted to get going before Malcanthet removed all of their buffs.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Cool. 

JollyDoc, now that the Savage Tide adventure path is coming to a close (one way or the other  ) have you thought about what's next on your group's agenda? Do you have a new campaign in mind?


----------



## Abciximab

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Cool.
> 
> JollyDoc, now that the Savage Tide adventure path is coming to a close (one way or the other  ) have you thought about what's next on your group's agenda? Do you have a new campaign in mind?




I think I saw mention of Rise of the Runelords? I hope you continue the write ups whatever it is. I think I'm going to finish out the trilogy for my SA and call it quits. It's a lot of time/work.


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Cool.
> 
> JollyDoc, now that the Savage Tide adventure path is coming to a close (one way or the other  ) have you thought about what's next on your group's agenda? Do you have a new campaign in mind?




Once we finish up Savage Tide, Tower Cleaver's player, Dave is going to run a one shot for us (in which I'm playing a paladin saint...Cuthbert Allgood) so that we can decompress.  After that, we will be starting Pathfinder (now that Paizo has answered our prayers) with Rise of the Runelords.  Glutton for punishment that I am, I will no doubt be continuing the story hour with the new AP.


----------



## carborundum

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Glutton for punishment that I am, I will no doubt be continuing the story hour with the new AP.




Huzzah! That's my fix guaranteed for the next year or so. Excellent!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Once we finish up Savage Tide, Tower Cleaver's player, Dave is going to run a one shot for us (in which I'm playing a paladin saint...Cuthbert Allgood) so that we can decompress.  After that, we will be starting Pathfinder (now that Paizo has answered our prayers) with Rise of the Runelords.  Glutton for punishment that I am, I will no doubt be continuing the story hour with the new AP.



Best news ever !!! 

Cuthbert Allgood...is it just an eponym or are the rest also doing something Dark Tower related? One of my old PCs was a Roland Deschain character with two repeating hand crossbows. Not very powerful, but cool.


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> Best news ever !!!
> 
> Cuthbert Allgood...is it just an eponym or are the rest also doing something Dark Tower related? One of my old PCs was a Roland Deschain character with two repeating hand crossbows. Not very powerful, but cool.





I am a HUGE Dark Tower fan, and I couldn't resist the name.  I also had a Roland Deschain gunslinger character in a Deadlands campaign.  I think I'm the only one with that tie-in, but Joachim's character and mine are connected...he's playing a Trumpet Archon, who is essentially my herald and conscience...the Jiminy Crickett to my Pinnochio


----------



## JollyDoc

DRUMS OF WAR

Sprawled in the mountains of Pazunia, some two miles from the fortress of Vanelon, and a mere half-mile from the River Styx, was a nightmare vista…a huge, armed camp of demonic soldiers.  Dozens of breeds of demon were crammed into the strangely spiral-shaped camp.  Within, thousands of fiends screamed, fought amongst themselves, ate food that was still alive, and generally made a hellish racket.  The central section of the camp seemed slightly more organized, containing several temporary buildings and round tents.  At the exact center of the camp was a large pavilion, doubtless the abode of the army’s commander.

As the Legionnaires strode boldly to the edge of the encampment, they were quickly intercepted by a group of hezrous and a phalanx of heavily-armed tiefling blackguards.
“We don’t want your kind here!” one of the hezrous bellowed.  “What do you want?”
“We bear news for General Bagromar,” Daelric said, stepping forward.  “News for his ears only, and that he would be very…unhappy to not receive quickly.”
The demons looked doubtful, but at last the leader shrugged and motioned for them to follow.  They were led on a winding trek through the camp until it was impossible to determine which way was out.  Finally they were brought before one of the larger tents, where a towering balor stood scratching his backside.
“You’re new, aren’t you?” he asked as the Legionnaires approached.  “No, let me guess.  You’re…cultists?  No?  Maybe blackguard recruits from Sigil?  No, not quite scruffy enough.  Maybe you’re messengers from Mammon, with an offer of surrender?”  He grinned, then rubbed his barrel-sized head.  “I don’t know.  You must be on our side, though, right?”
“Indeed we are,” Daelric nodded enthusiastically.  “We are here with a proposal of alliance for your General.”
“General Bagromar doesn’t get a lot of visitors,” the balor said, shaking his head sadly.  “His brother is the smoother talker, but Bagromar has just won a great victory in the Blood War.  The slaughter was fantastic!  Rivers of beautiful devilish ichor flowing along the field and all that.  We defended our way of life from the enemy, I tell you.  They’ll be back, of course.  The war just keeps going.  I mean, it has for as long as I can remember.  Always fighting.  We never really stop.  We don’t really want to.”
The hulking demon seemed to lose his train of thought for a minute, then shook himself.
“Right, General Bagromar’s tent.  This way.  We’ll get there.  Mind your step.”

He led them on a bit deeper into the camp, until they came to a relatively clear area, with the large tent directly at its center.  At that point, the balor stopped and turned towards them, chortling.
“You didn’t really think I was just going to let you waltz in, did you?”
With that, he unleashed a blast of blasphemously dark power, blowing Octurus from his feet and sending him sprawling.  A chorus of cheers went up from the surrounding demons as they anticipated their champion dealing out death and mayhem to the upstart mortals.  A moment later, their whoops turned to moans as Tower Cleaver stepped toe-to-toe with the balor and went to work with his axe.  Mandi knew what was coming, and it was apparent that the demonic horde did to, as they all started backing a health distance away.
“Time to duck and cover,” the sorceress said, as she erected a brilliant sphere of rainbow colors around herself, Marius and Daelric.  An instant later, there was a titanic explosion as Tower Cleaver dealt a death blow to the balor, and the demon unleashed all of its unholy power in one, massive blast.  Sepoto quickly dove for cover, and Octurus, back on his feet, though still a bit shaky, also managed to leap clear of the onslaught.  Tower Cleaver, however, took the brunt of the attack, and when the smoke cleared, he stood, blinking and dazed, his hide burned raw in multiple places, with bits and pieces of balor covering him from head to toe.
“Tower Cleaver hate this place,” he grumbled.
_______________________________________________________________

After Daelric had tended Cleaver’s wounds, the group continued towards the main pavilion.  The watching demons seemed to have lost interest and wandered back to their tasks, leaving the way forward unchallenged.  At first glance, the tent looked strangely shabby, patched with hairy, and scaled pelts of all kinds.  On closer inspection, however, it became obvious that the walls were made from thousands of tanned devil hides…bearded devil scales, the blue-white skin of bone devils, and even black feathered erinyes wings.  The tent flap leading in seemed to be either a pit fiend hide or a very good facsimile.  On either side of the entryway stood two nalfeshnees, with several glabrezus at the ready nearby.  All of them stood aside, however, as the Legionnaires approached.

Inside, the tent had a thick, fancy carpet, a single large table made of interlaced black bones and pale wood, and a single chair in front of a golden-feathered wall.  Standing at the table was the general himself, a creature that looked exactly like a one-headed version of Demogorgon…baboon head, tentacles, the mix of scaly and furred skin.  He idly consulted maps with a measuring stick and dictated notes to three dretch scribes as the companions entered.  Looking up, he blinked once then waved them over to the table. 
“Yes, yes.  You’re the ones who just murdered Dingoslag.  What do you want from me?”
“General Bagromar,” Daelric said, bowing.  The others bowed in turn behind him.  “We have been sent to you by the Witch Queen, Iggwilv, with an offer of alliance and mutual benefit.”
Bagromar stared at the priest impassively.
“Yes…well,” Daelric continued, clearing his throat.  “As you are no doubt aware, your Lord’s plans for the so-called Savage Tide conflict directly with our own goals.  We intend to stop him, no matter the cost, and towards this end, we have recruited several powerful allies, such as Iggwilv, the Court of Stars, Charon, and even mighty Orcus.  In addition, we have managed to capture an aspect of the former Prince of Demons, Obox-ob, and intend to use him to our purposes.  We have now come to you to ask where you allegiances lie, or more to the point, where they should lie.”
“I suppose you have proof of these alliances you’ve made?”  Bagromar asked, lifting one eyebrow.
Daelric looked momentarily at a loss for words, then he snapped his fingers.
“The flask, Mandi, show him the flask!”
Mandi complied, pulling Tuerny’s flask from her robes.
“An iron flask?”  Bagromar asked.  “Do I have ‘fool’ written across my forehead?  I don’t suppose you are willing to open it and show me Obox-ob?  No?  I thought not.  What else?”
“Well, if you look closely,” Daelric continued, his words cautious now, “I think you will see the mark of the Court of Stars upon us all.”
Bagromar snorted derisively.  “That much is obvious.”  He sneered at Tower Cleaver.  Then, in a more serious tone, “You are very brave or very foolish to come here, to suggest to me to turn traitor to the Prince of Demons, my maker.  My agents and His agents have sought you everywhere, and now you just fall into my lap.  Forgive me if I am suspicious.  But still, you could be useful to me.  My cursed brother has resisted the consolidation of our armies under my command.  Despite my continued success in the Blood War, he would rather plot and play at his games.  While I am out on the field, murdering for our maker’s glory!  It sickens me.  Yet, what is to be done?”
He fell silent for a time, and then nodded once and said simply, “Consider it done.  Now leave, before common sense returns!”


----------



## JollyDoc

“That was almost too easy,” Sepoto remarked as they made their way back through the demon camp.
“Speak for yourself!”  Daelric snapped.  “You weren’t the one on the spot, having to wing at as you went along!”
“Halt!”  a booming voice called from in front of them.
“I told you so,” Sepoto sighed.
The demon horde before them parted, revealing a strange sight, indeed.  Five large figures, mounted on what looked to be black-skinned, white-eyed, emaciated tyrannosaurs, stood arrayed on a low rise before the company.  Four where dressed in heavy armor, head to toe.  The one who had spoken, however, was a monkey-headed, dragon-tailed blasphemy, with rings of dragon-scales over his rolls of muscle.  His helmet was strange…one helm was clearly worn on his head, but the second was empty and welded next to the first.  All of the riders bore black lances, and carried heavy swords on their backs.
“We have chased you across the planes for long enough, pests!” the leader called.  “Stop your pathetic attempts to defy the Prince of Demons, or we will run you down!”
He then gestured to his followers, and all five began a slow advance down the hill.

“Smoke’em boys!”  Mandi called.  To her astonishment, however, it was Daelric that acted first!  Calling to Shaundekal, he conjured a long wall of whirling blades, catching all four of the armored giants and their mounts in the middle of it.  One rider and mount were cut to ribbons instantly.  The rest struggled to free themselves, but before they could, Marius hurled a blast of explosive fire into their midst that erupted like a small mushroom cloud.  The three remaining giants were roasted in their armor as they were blown bodily from the backs of the T-rex’s.  One of the dinosaurs was knocked prone as well by the force of the blast.  Even the lead rider was unhorsed.  A moment later, a black sphere of crackling energy manifested near the leader, courtesy of Mandi.  He rolled to the side as it spun towards him, narrowly evading its deadly touch.  His mount, however, was not so fortunate.  The sphere reduced it to ash in the span of a heartbeat.  

By that time, the remaining three tyrannosaurs had managed to extricate themselves from the blade barrier and bore down on the six companions.
“On me!”  Sepoto shouted, spinning his chain and rushing forward.  Octurus and Tower Cleaver roared battle cries and followed in his wake.  Even Mandi was inspired, shifting her body into that of a giant balor and flapping after her friends.  The quartet struck the leader of the riders like a tsunami as he struggled to climb to his feet.  In the face of their combined ferocity, he never had a chance.  Tower Cleaver then spun on the nearest T-rex, ignoring the sudden chill that went down his spine as he met its blank-eyed gaze.  His axe flared with brilliant sunlight as it hewed the dinosaur in two.  Another dissolved to dust as Mandi’s sphere rolled into it.  The final beast succumbed beneath a sustained barrage of holy fire from Daelric and Marius.  

Though the battle was easily won, the fact that Demogorgon’s assassins had tracked them to Bagromar was not lost on the Legionnaires.  The Prince of Demons was expecting them, and the longer they delayed, the more time he would have to prepare for them and unleash the Savage Tide.  The time had come for a council of war…
_____________________________________________________________

“So where are you planning on holding this little conclave?”  Iggwilv had asked them after they had reported that all the pieces were in play.
“I had Sigil in mind,” Mandi had replied.  “I know of an inn there, the Azure Iris.  It has a reputation as specializing in out-of-the-way meetings.”
“I know of it,” said Iggwilv.  “Verden, the proprietress, and I have done business before.  Of course you know that the Lady of Pain forbids the entrance into Sigil of any creature that has worshippers.  This includes Orcus and Gwynharwyf.”
“I’m aware,” Mandi responded.  “I think it might be better if they send proxies anyway…”

That had been two days past.  Now the Legionnaires sat in a comfortable, windowless room at the Azure Iris, which could only be reached via a series of well-hidden doors and a maze of hallways.  They awaited their guests impatiently, Mandi drumming her fingers constantly against the table as Tower Cleaver paced back and forth restlessly.  Abruptly, the door opened and Iggwilv stepped inside, her remaining two arcanaloth apprentices flanking her.  They nodded soberly to Mandi.  The Witch Queen had just taken her seat when the door opened again.  This time it was Celeste, smiling warmly at the Legionnaires, especially Octurus, and then frowning intensely at Iggwilv. 
“Always a pleasure to see you too, my dear,” the witch said, smiling sweetly.  
“So, what is your ulterior motive in meddling this time?”  Celeste asked coldly.
“You are a fine one to talk about meddling,” Iggwilv replied, her eyebrows raised.  “Need I remind you what happened to Cauldron, or the debacle that took place in Starmantle?”
Celeste dropped into her seat and folded her arms, brooding silently.  It wasn’t long before the door opened again.   To the horror and disgust of those assembled, a rotten, shambling, blood-stained cadaver hauled itself into the chamber.  Three quasits perched on its skull and shoulders, casually tearing away and consuming small strips of its putrid flesh.
“I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine, Xerivar,” the corpse said, speaking with the voice of Orcus.
“Charming, as ever,” Iggwilv muttered, wrinkling her nose at the stench.
“This is appalling,” Celeste said in disgust.  “Must we endure this?”
“I’m sorry to offend your fine sensibilities,” Xerivar/Orcus burbled, and then laughing, sat down squishily right next to the eladrin, the quasits chittering with glee.
“Only one left,” Iggwilv said, almost to herself.  “This should be interesting.”
As if on cue, the door opened a final time, and a cloaked figure stepped in.  As he moved into the light, he pulled back his hood, causing Sepoto and Marius to gasp, rising half way to their feet.
“Anwar?”  the goliath asked, incredulously.  “Is it really you?”
“In a manner of speaking,” the half-elf said with a ghost of his former, winning smile.  He appeared just as they remembered him, though his skin was paler, his hair more lank, and the arrogant sparkle gone from his eyes.
“The famous Anwar,” Mandi said, nodding.  “How the mighty have fallen.”
Anwar did not seem as if he could be baited.  He simply smiled again, and nodded in return.  “Yes, I am a petitioner…a lost soul.  Charon tasked me as his ambassador.  He felt that you might be more comfortable seeing a familiar face.”
“We got even with Meravanchi for you,” Sepoto said cheerfully.  “You should have seen his face!  Lavinia is safe as well.”
Anwar’s face showed no expression.  “Such things are beyond my concern now,” he said in a hollow voice.  Sepoto sat back down.  This was certainly not the man he had known.  Unwillingly, his mind began to dredge up the feelings he’d been warring with of late, wondering what his own fate would be in the afterlife.

Once everyone had been seated and accommodated, Mandi stood at the head of the table.
“My thanks to each of you and your patrons for agreeing to this meeting, and for the greater purpose that we have come together to discuss.  All of you are aware of what we face, so there is no need to rehash that further.  For me and my companions, our goal is simple…we must stop the Savage Tide, no matter what.  If Demogorgon can be destroyed in the bargain, then so much the better.”
“Oh, rest assured, he will be destroyed,” Xerivar said, slamming a mushy fist on the table with a wet splat.
“Yes, well,” Mandi continued.  “In any event, my colleagues and I are not soldiers.  We are specialists, and we are very good at what we do, but what we do does not include leading armies or waging wars.  That is where you come in.  So, I will open the floor to tactical planning at this point.”
Before any of the others could reply, Iggwilv stood.  “Well said,” she replied.  “But before we go any further, there is information that I have that should be divulged first.  General Bagromar, our contact in Demogorgon’s ranks, sent this to me through various back channels.  Demogorgon has seeded thirty-four shadow pearls throughout major cities on the Prime.  All of these are linked to one master pearl, which Bagromar says is kept safe within an ancient structure perched on the shores of the Brine Flats…a place called Wat Dagon?”
“A temple to Dagon?”  Xerivar snapped.  “What ties does that water-logged fool have to Demogorgon?”
“It is my understanding, Lord Orcus,” Iggwilv said testily, irate at being interrupted, “that it was Dagon who in fact taught Demogorgon to craft the shadow pearls centuries ago.  Now, as I was saying, this master pearl is the key Demogorgon intends to use to trigger the Savage Tide when a specific planar conjunction occurs.  That conjunction will occur two days from now.”
The room flew into an uproar at this, with multiple voices shouting over one another angrily, until, at a nod from Mandi, Tower Cleaver slammed his fist down on the table, cracking it completely in two.
“Gentlemen, Ladies,” the sorceress said, “please.  I’m sure Iggwilv can enlighten us further as to how we will be expected to mobilize and transport three armies across the Abyss in under two days time.”
“Indeed,” Iggwilv smiled.  “That is my role to play in this endeavor.  In my research, I have discovered five points within Gaping Maw where the planar boundaries are weak.  Through my magic, I am capable of opening massive Gates at each of these points simultaneously.  All your commanders need do is plant a specially prepared scepter that I shall provide, at their end of the Gate.  I shall do the rest.”
There was a general murmur of approval at this as Iggwilv unfolded a map of Gaping Maw, illustrating where the five portal points where located.  Then Celeste stood.
“In this case, it is Gwynharwyf’s desire to personally lead the Tourbillion Gale Host through the Blood Run portal,” she indicated a point on the western edge of the map, “while I lead the Starry Night Host at Oldclot Cove.”  She indicated the opposite side of the map.  “Thus we can attack from Demogorgon’s flanks, and then press inward without having to worry about leaving enemies behind us.”
At that point Xerivar stood, chuckling.
“The coward’s approach,” he said.  “I shall send in my V Asphyxian legion through the portal point closest to Lemoriax.  They should provide an adequate distraction before the IX Exsanguinos follows.  They will break Demogorgon’s forces in the region, and we shall establish a beachhead there.  Then I shall send my XIII Decapitus legion to march directly on the gates of Lemoriax while I, leading the I Thanatos personally, shall first destroy Demogorgon, and then his vaunted capital.”
Sepoto kept his face carefully neutral during the exchange, though his fists tightened on the armrests of his chair.  He had to be present when Demogorgon died.  He had to commit the demon lord’s body to Ahazu, or else he and his companions would end up saving the world at the cost of their eternal souls.  His attention returned to the situation at hand when he heard Anwar speaking.
“Charon has committed five-thousand marraenoloths,” the bard was saying.  “With these, he will run interference against the forces of Demogorgon’s naval commander, Admiral Belcheresk, thus preventing them from providing aid to the land-based assault while at the same time pulling the demon prince’s attention in yet another direction.  He will also provide floating platforms for our forces to attack from.”
“Excellent,” Iggwilv said once all of the principles had outlined their plans.  “This leaves two portal points still unutilized.  One is located deeper within the Screaming Jungle and is rumored not only to be guarded by a legion of demons, but also by Arendagrost, one of Demogorgon’s deadliest spawn.  The second is located along the Brine Flats, and although it is fortified by a defensive battery, it is easily the least defended of all the points.  Mandi, this is where I recommend that you and your team insert.  You should have no problem overwhelming the defenders, thus allowing me to keep that particular portal open.  This will not only provide another distraction for Demogorgon, but will also be a permanent and easily accessible extraction point.  I warn you once more, however, your role in this game is to reach Wat Dagon and the master pearl, not to fight a war.  Conserve your resources as long as you can.  You’ll need them.”

As the council broke up, Anwar stepped close to Sepoto, taking the goliath by the elbow.
“I tell you this as a friend,” the bard said.  “Don’t end up like me.  You can’t begin to imagine what it’s like.  Guard yourself in the war to come.  Many paths lay before you.  Choose the wrong one, and you will wander the Styx for all eternity.  It’s never too late for redemption while you still draw breath, and…if you see Lavinia again, tell her I’m sorry.”
He turned and left without another word, leaving the crusader with many things to contemplate.


----------



## JollyDoc

The Legionnaires elected to spend their last night before the assault on Gaping Maw in the Court of Stars.  Celeste escorted them back, and they were received as heroes.  The next morning, they gathered before Morwel and Gwynharwf to receive the blessing of the eladrin, and then they parted company with the celestial host, making their way to a secluded point in the forests surrounding the Court itself.  There, Mandi planted the scepter Iggwilv had provided in the ground.  No sooner had she done so than the portal burst into being with a blast of electricity and thunder, reality rippling aside like a curtain.  Clearly visible on the far side was a muddy beach sitting at the edge of a vast, tropical ocean, bounded to the left and right by jagged, razor-sharp cliffs.  The expanse of beach climbed gradually to a line of defensive fortifications a little over a hundred feet away.  Craters and berms lay in the way of the approach to the fortified ridge, and a thick blanket of dark, green fog roiled some fifty feet above, blotting out views of an alien sky.

The fortifications crawled with demons, fully two dozen or more.  A dozen or more were hezrous, with an equal number of babaus.  One nalfeshnee was also visible, as well as one marilith.  The latter demon stood atop a bunker, manning an odd looking catapult.  Three pairs of babaus similarly manned a trio of strange ballistae.  As the Legionnaires stepped onto the beach, the siege weapons opened fire, filling the air with a hellish barrage of screaming force missiles and exploding acid orbs.  Mandi was on the move as soon as her feet touched the sand, Sepoto and Daelric right behind her.  As they zigzagged their way up the embankment, explosions began detonating all around them as they tripped some sort of hidden mines.  Quickly the trio made it to the relative cover of a shallow crater and hunkered down.  Before their allies could join them, however, twin walls of whirling blades erupted across the beach head, one before them, and one behind, cutting them off from Tower Cleaver, Octurus and Marius.  A moment later, more demons began appearing in front of them and in front of their comrades as the demonic defenders summoned more of their kind.

Tower Cleaver immediately stepped between the teleporting demons and Marius, whipping his axe in a wide arc before him, cutting down a pair of hezrous and one babau before slashing into a second of the assassin demons.  Not to be outdone, Marius used the momentary distraction to explode into flames, roasting another pair of hezrous and another babau as well.  Meanwhile, Sepoto had gone on the offensive as well, wiping out babau triplets as soon as they appeared.  This gave Mandi a clear path towards the fortifications.  Transforming her body into a form with wings, she glided over the blade barrier and landed no more than a dozen yards from the nearest bunkers.  She knew they did not have time to waste in a resource-consuming battle, so she quickly summoned one of her most powerful spells.  Instantly, every remaining demonic defender grabbed their heads as a cacophony of maddening whispers sent them all curling into fetal positions.
“Now!”  Mandi commanded.
Daelric quickly brought down the twin walls of blades, allowing Sepoto, Cleaver and Octurus to advance.  With deadly efficiency, the three warriors made quick work of the helpless fiends.  A strange quiet descended over the battlefield, punctuated only by the sound of distant roaring coming from somewhere out at sea.  Then, Iggwilv’s voice suddenly sounded in Mandi’s head.
‘Lemoriax portal point compromised.  Orcus’s legions shut out.  Arendagrost is present.  If fixed, we can salvage the attack, but only if it’s dealt with immediately.’
Mandi sighed, then turned to her team.
“Our work’s just beginning,” she said.  “I think we’re in for a very long day…”


----------



## Aracase

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> “Tower Cleaver hate this place,” he grumbled.



LOL! This is TC's clarifying moment.  He really does hate the abyss, so much. 

After the Big D goes down and if TC lives, he's going to retire to the 'Plane of Corona' and enjoy the heck out of blue water, sandy beaches, sea breezes, and hot girls/heifers with coconut bikinis.


----------



## carborundum

Every time someone storms a beach I think of Saving Private Ryan now. Awesome scene - and all this high level spell chucking is great fun, of course.

Does TC really kill 3 demons in one sweeping strike? Jiminy cricket!

As for heifer-valkyries in coconut-shell bikinis - thats one for the character portrait request thread 

PS: JollyDoc - what penalty does your campaign use for a Raise Dead - negative level, xp loss, something else?


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Every time someone storms a beach I think of Saving Private Ryan now. Awesome scene - and all this high level spell chucking is great fun, of course.
> 
> Does TC really kill 3 demons in one sweeping strike? Jiminy cricket!
> 
> As for heifer-valkyries in coconut-shell bikinis - thats one for the character portrait request thread
> 
> PS: JollyDoc - what penalty does your campaign use for a Raise Dead - negative level, xp loss, something else?





Yes, alas, TC really does.  With Mighty Swing he can hit three adjacent square simultaneously, and with Power Attack 8, he deals out somewhere  around a hundred points of damage per chop to each square he hits.  Fear it!

For Raise Dead, you come back mid-way in xp at the previous level.  Hasn't been too much of a factor lately, especially when they use the Revenance/Revivfy combo.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Aracase said:
			
		

> After the Big D goes down and if TC lives, he's going to retire to the 'Plane of Corona' and enjoy the heck out of blue water, sandy beaches, sea breezes, and hot girls/heifers with coconut bikinis.



TC is really the one I would most like to see survive the campaign. Don't know, but I have a soft spot in my heart for this killing machine - he somehow seems to be the most innocent of the lot, he's just doing what he does best.   

If you guys need something to calm yourselves after the ending of Savage Tide, you could always replay the fight against improved Kyuss with the Legion.


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:
			
		

> TC is really the one I would most like to see survive the campaign. Don't know, but I have a soft spot in my heart for this killing machine - he somehow seems to be the most innocent of the lot, he's just doing what he does best.




It's ironic, because when David first joined our group, he kind of came up with TC on the fly, since a fighter-type was a simple character concept.  He had no illusions that the minotaur would survive.  TC was just supposed to be a stop-gap while he came up with his "real" character.  I to am glad the big fella's made it this far.  You're right.  He has no great agenda to pursue.  He holds no personal grudges.  What you see is what you get, and if you happen to be on the receiving end of that axe, that's a whole lot of whup ass!!


----------



## Aracase

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> He had no illusions that the minotaur would survive.



Yeah, and if you read the story hour when TC first appeared in the game, you can read where JollyDoc killed him.   

I try to play TC true neutral sometimes he's good, sometimes not.  He loathes the abyss, but as you've read, his "herd" needs him.


----------



## JollyDoc

*SUNDAY TEASER*

1)  The Legion meets the Maw of the Abyss and his joystick of pure evil.  This is one for the books.  Tower Cleaver gets to see Paradise 3 times in 3 minutes, and he's joined by another Legionnaire as well!

2)  The hordes of Orcus invade Gaping Maw, but it seems that thousands of undead and demons still need the help of six mortals to accomplish their goals.

3)  Obox-ob has a return engagement, and Iggwilv calls in her marker.

4)  The Legion goes in search of Bagromar's brother, only to find that he is indisposed, so they have to settle for chatting with his War Secretary-General instead...


----------



## carborundum

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Tower Cleaver gets to see Paradise 3 times in 3 minutes,




I know he hates the Abyss but now you're just teasing him!


----------



## Quartz

I too have a soft spot for TC. I'd like to see what happens if he were to get a Belt of Magnificence. Would he have a Belkar moment?


----------



## Aracase

carborundum said:
			
		

> I know he hates the Abyss but now you're just teasing him!



We had this exact same discussion at the time.


----------



## primemover003

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Yes, alas, TC really does.  With Mighty Swing he can hit three adjacent square simultaneously, and with Power Attack 8, he deals out somewhere  around a hundred points of damage per chop to each square he hits.  Fear it!
> 
> For Raise Dead, you come back mid-way in xp at the previous level.  Hasn't been too much of a factor lately, especially when they use the Revenance/Revivfy combo.



I think the Goliath Barbarian/Fighter in my group will surpass TC in terms of sheer damage, but only to one target at a time.  After finishing my modified Tides of Dread I'm combining LD and CoBI together (LD will be a side trek at best).  

At ECL 13 Deek Blackhammer has a 34 strength while raging, a Large +1 Evil Outsider Fiercebane adamantine Goliath Greathammer and fiendsbane crystal lesser, Leap attack (ususally for 10 points) and Improved Crit (GgH).  On an average swing against an evil outsider the Beast is doing 3d6+61+3d6.  On Crit it's 12d6+244+3d6+3d10.  

Just plain Ugly.  Thankfully Khala's Alchemy Master ability means Potions of Mage Armor, Shield of Faith, Blur, and Invisibility are readily available for himself and Xerkemat.  I have to pump up the AC's so they don't get one-shotted each!


----------



## JollyDoc

primemover003 said:
			
		

> I think the Goliath Barbarian/Fighter in my group will surpass TC in terms of sheer damage, but only to one target at a time.
> 
> At ECL 13 Deek Blackhammer has a 34 strength while raging, a Large +1 Evil Outsider Fiercebane adamantine Goliath Greathammer and fiendsbane crystal lesser, Leap attack (ususally for 10 points) and Improved Crit (GgH).  On an average swing against an evil outsider the Beast is doing 3d6+61+3d6.  On Crit it's 12d6+244+3d6+3d10.




I don't know TC...sounds like the gauntlet has been thrown down.  Care to retort?


----------



## Monkey Boy

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Once we finish up Savage Tide, Tower Cleaver's player, Dave is going to run a one shot for us (in which I'm playing a paladin saint...Cuthbert Allgood) so that we can decompress.  After that, we will be starting Pathfinder (now that Paizo has answered our prayers) with Rise of the Runelords.  Glutton for punishment that I am, I will no doubt be continuing the story hour with the new AP.




Hey Jolly Doc, long time reader first time poster to the thread. Firstly great work. I always check in to see if an update or teaser has been posted. Congrats to you and your group for the great read.

Maybe I'm off base but you won that major DnD tournament and wound up playtesters for 4E right? Does your comment about running Pathfinder next tell us something about how your group found gaming with the 4E rules?

Will you be running Rise of the Rune Lords with the Pazio 3.75 ruleset?


----------



## Joachim

Monkey Boy said:
			
		

> Maybe I'm off base but you won that major DnD tournament and wound up playtesters for 4E right? Does your comment about running Pathfinder next tell us something about how your group found gaming with the 4E rules?
> 
> Will you be running Rise of the Rune Lords with the Pazio 3.75 ruleset?




Yes we did.

Yes it should.

Yes we will.

So say we all.


----------



## Joachim

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> I don't know TC...sounds like the gauntlet has been thrown down.  Care to retort?




Actually, if we are going creature specific, Octurus might be pretty close to this guy on evil outsiders.  Maybe not in quality per hit, but definitely in quantity with his 60 billion attacks and high crit range.

Now if you were to, say, compare this to TC verses undead creatures Deek Blackhammer might be humbled.

EDIT:  Oh, wait...I just saw that was ECL 13.  WHOOPS!  Yeah...I take all that back.  Deek probably wins that fight.


----------



## SolitonMan

Joachim said:
			
		

> Here Part 1 (of 2) of my Mandi RP Update:
> 
> -----------------------------------------------------
> 
> RESIGNATION AND REDEMPTION
> 
> 
> Lavinia stared at the letter in front of her, a look of exasperation on her face.  No aid from the family Vito was coming.  The Sembian merchant clan had been her last hope for help in reclaiming Farshore.  Like sharks smelling blood, the noble houses and merchants of Tashluta saw fit to watch another noble house collapse.  House Vanderboren had run out of friends.  Even the Dawn Council was turning its back on her and denying her family’s rightful claim, having been bribed by Meravanchi’s continental kin.
> 
> Breathing out a long sigh, Lavinia looked to her seneschal, a new addition to the Vaderboren manor since the attack of the bullywugs.  It was time for desperate measures.  “We are down to our last few thousand gold.  Jerald, I want you to speak with the local magistrate.  Find out what kind of value this estate has.  I may need to consider using it as collateral or, if the price is right, sell it.”
> 
> The servant’s mouth opened, “Mistress, this house has been in your family for generations.  You can’t possibly think of…”
> 
> “Jerald, my entire family is dead.  My parents, dead.  My brother, dead.  I am it!  When I am gone, this house would be all that is left, sold at auction by the Dawn Council.  Think of it, the legacy of a noble house of Tashluta, going once, twice, SOLD for five thousand gold coins!  No…That is not what my parents would want.  Their legacy was Farshore, and I’ll be damned if someone else is going to claim that while I still draw breath.”
> 
> The seneschal nodded, knowing that he was not going to be able to talk his mistress out of her plan.  As he turned to leave the room, one of the maids peeked her head into the room.  “Milady, you have a visitor…one of your bodyguards…you know, the lady elf who wears that snake skin dress…”
> 
> Lavinia’s brow furrowed.  “You mean Mandi?  Show her in, immediately.”  The maid nodded, and scurried back towards the front of the house.
> 
> A few moments later, the elf wizardess strode into the room, her face expressionless…as always.  In her hands she carried a simple letter, wax sealed with the symbol of the Seekers.  Lavinia shot out of her chair and went to embrace her cohort, which Mandi accepted awkwardly.  Initial pleasantries exchanged, Lavinia spoke, “So tell me, what news of the Legion?  How is your mission faring?”
> 
> Mandi slowly nodded.  “There is much to tell.  After leaving you, we bribed the daughter of a demon lord to tell us where her aunt, another demon lord, had been permanently imprisoned by a being of godlike power.  We made a deal with that being, a demon lord by the name of Ahazu, whereby we have 65 days to kill the Prince of Demons and turn over the corpse or we as a group will be assumed bodily into the layer of the Abyss known as Shattered Night.
> 
> “In trade we were allowed to free the demon lord captive and question her as to the weaknesses of said Demon Prince.  Before she could answer, a rent in the sky appeared and the River Styx was redirected on top of us, and we all were stripped of our memories.  Shortly thereafter, Charon, the near-godlike boatman of the Styx, appeared and took us to see Iggwilv, the single most powerful mortal being in all of existence.  Speaking with her, we learned that we have to meet with and entreat the most wicked beings in the Abyss such that we can form an army against the Prince of Demons.
> 
> “If we fail in this task, one half of the Prince of Demons will absorb the other as he unleashes a Savage Tide across this plane, destroying all life on Toril as we know it, ultimately resulting in said demon prince assuming full godhood, taking control of all the horrors of the Abyss, winning the Blood War, and beginning an unstoppable conquest of the remaining planes of the multiverse.  And that’s about it.
> 
> “How have things been here?”
> 
> Lavinia stammered, “Uh…things here are, well, good, I guess.  I am having no luck in reclaiming Farshore, or enlisting aid from other families to help me in this, but…ummm.  My, all of this sounds so trivial compared to what you and the other ‘Legionnaires’ find yourself up against...”
> 
> Mandi cut the noblewoman off with a curt wave of her hand, growing very serious.  “Lavinia, do not play down the importance of what you are trying to accomplish.  The reason I am here is actually to see that you succeed in reclaiming your father’s legacy.”  With that, the elf held forth the sealed letter.
> 
> Her head cocked to the side, Lavinia took the letter and popped the seal.  “What is this?”
> 
> “It’s a certified letter from me, turning over all of my holdings within the Seeker’s guild treasury for your use, provided that you use them to recover Farshore and begin real trade to and from the Isle of Dread.”
> 
> Lavinia smiled graciously, almost patronizingly.  It was a nice gesture, but couldn’t be enough to fully fund a new vessel to the Isle, but it was appreciated.  “Thank you.  Every last coin should help.  I will add it to the little we have collected.  I hate to ask, but how much should I expect to be there.”
> 
> Mandi cocked her head back and forth, calculating.  “After I made a small donation back to the guild, I believe there should still be approximately three hundred and fifty thousand gold crowns.  By my estimation, that should be more than enough to purchase, outfit, and crew no less than two dozen caravels, most likely more.”
> 
> The noblewoman’s mouth dropped, and Lavinia was speechless.  Mandi continued, “It is my belief that the best way for you to regain the popular control of Farshore is through trade.  Bring continental goods to the Isle on your way out there.  Bring the exotic Isle goods back to the continent on the return trip home.  With two dozen vessels you would have the start of a merchant fleet empire, and not just to Tashluta.  The ports and bazaars of Calimport, Baldur’s Gate, and Waterdeep can be stocked with the fine silks, spices, and other trinkets from the Isle of Dread.
> 
> “By continually bringing ships in and out, the people of Farshore will begin to prosper.  As they prosper, they will become fat on their new wealth, and comfortable as the luxuries of home are continually delivered to their doorstep.  They will become dependent on you.
> 
> “Don’t forget the mongrelmen.  These pitiful creatures have been scorned by all men, except for you.  I would imagine that if you continue to show them compassion they would do anything for you.  At that point you would have control over the trade routes to and from the Isle, as well as the great percentage of the labor force, giving you total control over the village’s economy.
> 
> “The House of Vanderboren would then become the true power ruling over Farshore.  The rat Meravanchi may remain the de facto mayor, but his power will be castrated.  What is even more satisfying is that not only will he will know what is happening but he will also be fully aware that he is without means of stopping it.”
> 
> Lavinia exhaled loudly.  “You’ve given this a lot of thought haven’t you?  I don’t know what to say.  How can I ever repay you?”
> 
> “Simply…You can’t.  What I give to you now does not require it.  If nothing else, what I offer to you is a post-mortem gift to your father.  Now, along with this boon, I tender my resignation as your retainer.  Farshore is left in your capable hands.
> 
> Once our mission on the Abyss is completed, I do not believe that I will spend much of my remaining time on this plane, provided of course that I survive the battles to come.  I may check in with you and your progeny every decade or so.  Apart from that, however, this is farewell.”
> 
> Lavinia nodded, stood, and extended her arm, which Mandi accepted.  The elf turned on her heel and promptly left the residence.
> 
> Once out in the courtyard, Mandi began intoning the words to her most powerful teleportive spell.  A ten-foot diameter portal opened before her leading straight to the Gray Wastes.  Before Mandi was to rejoin her comrades, she had one more soul to visit…




I know it's tangential to the main thread of the story, but I really enjoyed this posting.  Would it be possible to get a follow up (after the finale of the AP, of course!) that details how Lavinia ended up "castrating" Meravinchi and succeeding (or not) in establishing her merchant empire?  I'm a sucker for the feel-good ending I guess, as well as seeing the bad guys get their comeuppance.  

Any interest in doing some more writing on this Joachim?  Any flattery/bribes/enticements that would help sway your opinion?


----------



## Joachim

SolitonMan said:
			
		

> I know it's tangential to the main thread of the story, but I really enjoyed this posting.  Would it be possible to get a follow up (after the finale of the AP, of course!) that details how Lavinia ended up "castrating" Meravinchi and succeeding (or not) in establishing her merchant empire?  I'm a sucker for the feel-good ending I guess, as well as seeing the bad guys get their comeuppance.
> 
> Any interest in doing some more writing on this Joachim?  Any flattery/bribes/enticements that would help sway your opinion?




I'm glad you enjoyed that (your check is in the mail, too).  As far as continuing that side-thread, I think that I could do that, if Joe doesn't mind.  I had one more little bit to add to Mandi's denoument, but I have decided to do that once the campaign ends...provided of course that we win and Mandi survives (not a sure thing, by any stretch).


----------



## JollyDoc

Monkey Boy said:
			
		

> Hey Jolly Doc, long time reader first time poster to the thread. Firstly great work. I always check in to see if an update or teaser has been posted. Congrats to you and your group for the great read.
> 
> Maybe I'm off base but you won that major DnD tournament and wound up playtesters for 4E right? Does your comment about running Pathfinder next tell us something about how your group found gaming with the 4E rules?
> 
> Will you be running Rise of the Rune Lords with the Pazio 3.75 ruleset?





Ah, bitter irony.  I believe Joachim answered clearly and concisely, but ask us again after May 1 and perhaps we can clarify things a bit more.


----------



## JollyDoc

“OURS IS NOT TO QUESTION WHY…”

The distance between the Brine Flats and the jungle portal was measured in tens of miles, according to the map provided by Iggwilv.  By conventional means, even flight, it would have taken the Legionnaires hours to travel there…hours they did not have to spare.  It was Daelric who came up with the solution by calling upon the Traveler to transform himself and his companions into living air, which could be whisked along on the Abyssal winds at incredible speed.  So it was that they reached the site of the jungle portal some thirty minutes later, and beheld the fate of the V Asphyxian.

The jungle suddenly came to an end at a blackened swath of char and blood.  The desolate clearing sprawled for miles, only recently formed by the wicked blades and fell spells of demon spawn.  A field of blasted stumps and ruin was all that remained of the once-tangled junglescape.  In some places, the trees looked burnt, in others they were melted, and still others appeared frozen and shattered.  Black blood, gore, and bile…still fresh from the stench of it…were splattered across mounds of dead fiends and other horrors.  The calamity seemed to have been complete, with no clear victors, almost as though both sides annihilated each other.  At the center of the desolation stood a sinister totem, a ten-foot-tall pole of carved demon faces.  A tattered battle standard bearing the black death’s head emblem of Orcus’s V Asphyxian Legion hung from the totem, and dangling from its lower border by its hair was the decapitated head of the legion’s undead general.

Cautiously, acutely aware of Iggwilv’s warning about Arendagrost’s presence, the Legionnaires stepped out onto the blasted battlefield.  It was Octurus who first saw that something, beyond the obvious, was not quite right.  His hawk-like eyes took in the whole of the carnage, but also picked out small details, such as the abundance of nabassu, tieflings and various undead, all bearing Orcus’s brand, and the smaller number of bar-lgura, hezrou and babaus…and the large, yellow eye peering out from beneath a mound of bodies.  Holding up one hand, he silently called the group to a halt, pointing towards the vicinity where he guessed the rest of the concealed creature’s body to be…a distance about forty feet away from the totem.  Marius cracked his knuckles in anticipation.
“I’ll flush’im out,” the little gnome grinned.  Fire crackled around his hands as he spoke arcane words.  He released it in a towering column of white-hot flames, centered on the spot Octurus had indicated.  To his open-mouthed shock, however, the fire simply…vanished at a point some sixty-feet above the ground.
“What the…?” he gawped.
“I think we can guess why the portal’s not open,” Mandi said, her voice bitter.
“Why?”  Sepoto asked, not grasping her conclusion.
“Null-magic,” she replied.  “A zone where no magic functions.  I would hazard a guess that it’s centered on the totem, and Arendagrost is just waiting for us to make a move for it.”
“So…what do we do?”  Daelric asked, fear in his voice.
The sorceress shrugged.  “Without my spells, I’m just a glorified librarian, and Marius is simply an angry little man with compensation issues.  A blade still cuts, magic or no magic, though.”
She looked pointedly at Sepoto and Tower Cleaver.  The goliath sighed deeply.
“It always comes down to this,” he said.  “Well Cleaver, it looks like it’s you and me.”
“What about me?”  Octurus protested.  “I’m not exactly a novice with these.”  He held up his blades.  
“I realize that,” Sepoto said, “and I definitely have a job for you.  Let Cleaver and I draw out Arendagrost, and then you move in.  Your target, however, is the totem.  It must have some powerful enchantments woven into it.  Your blades are not steel.  They’re adamantine.  They can slice iron as if it were butter.  I’ll guess they can take down that idol as well.”
The Maztican nodded.
“As for you,” Sepoto seized Daelric’s tunic.  “You’re coming with me and Cleaver.”
“Wh…what?”  the priest stammered.  “True, I can swing a mace, when desperate, but I’m no warrior, and my magic won’t function any better than Mandi’s or Marius’s!”
“Which is why you’re staying outside the zone,” Sepoto explained.  “But I still want you nearby.  We’re going to try and find the edge of the dead magic and do most of our fighting there, but if one of us should fall, you need to be there to bring us back.  Understood?”
Reluctantly, the young priest nodded.  Like a man walking to his own hanging, he followed glumly when the goliath and the minotaur started across the field.

Cautiously, they circled the totem, moving past the point where they believed their foe to be hidden.  Finally, they reached a point directly south of the pole.
“Are you ready?”  Sepoto asked
“Ready,” Cleaver snorted, hefting his axe.  
They began moving forward, one step at a time.  Then, between one step and the next, the pair felt all of the magical defenses layered over them, all of the dweomers on the equipment they carried, suddenly wink out.  Even Cleaver’s sun-bright axe was snuffed.  Two paces behind them, and still cloaked in invisibility, Daelric came to an abrupt halt.
“I’ll wait here,” he whispered.
Sepoto turned to snap off a retort, when an earth-shattering roar sounded from the other side of the pole.  The creature that rose from the abattoir of death was huge…a corpulent thing of darkness and hate and madness.  A trio of maws gaped from vaguely fiendish heads, each gigantic rotting mouth filled with row upon row of fangs.  An obscenity of anger the size of a house, its body was little more than a writhing tangle of tentacles, each large enough to crush the life out of a man with but a moment’s idle whim.  Howling with rage, Arendagrost, the Maw of the Abyss, surged across the intervening space between itself and its prey.  Cleaver tried to brace himself, but how could one brace for a tidal wave?  One of Arendagrost’s heads snapped out and clamped down on the minotaur’s bicep.  Roaring in pain, Cleaver jerked back, leaving bits of flesh hanging from Arendagrost’s teeth.

“They’re dead,” Mandi said, matter-of-factly.
Octurus looked at her in shock, while Marius just shrugged.
“If we don’t do something, they’re dead,” she repeated.
“What can we do?”  Marius asked.  “You said it yourself; our magic won’t work in there.  Should we sacrifice our own lives needlessly?”
“No…not our lives,” the sorceress said cryptically, and then she began to chant.  As she did so, a shimmering oval appeared in the air behind Sepoto and Tower Cleaver, just outside the border of the totem’s zone.  It grew rapidly and flared with orange light.  As it did, a hole tore open in reality, breeching the boundaries between the Abyss and the Plane of Fire.  Flames roared out of the Gate, followed by a monolithic creature made of living fire, easily a match for Arendagrost in size alone.  At Mandi’s command, it sprang forward, hammering one massive fist into the demon’s body before leaping away.  
“If you’re going to go, it had best be now!” Mandi shouted to Octurus.  The Maztican nodded and sprinted across the battlefield.

Arendagrost snarled in anger at the newcomer, yet some part of his dim intellect still understood where the true threat lay.  The elemental’s blow had been glancing, at best, and the flames that comprised its body did not scathe his demonic hide in the slightest.  No, the elemental was of little concern.  Instead, he turned his attention back to the hulking minotaur.  Snapping one of his heads forward again, he seized Tower Cleaver bodily in his jaws, and then tossed him like a rag doll several yards away.  Cleaver landed prone, the wind driven from his lungs.  Quickly, he rolled to his back and struggled to his feet, but as he did, Arendagrost struck again, inflicting another vicious bite.  Enraged, the barbarian struck back reflexively, managing a deep gash by sheer luck alone.  Meanwhile, wtih the gargantuan demon distracted, Sepoto raised his own weapon, and bellowing Savras’s name, charged.  Behind him, subconsciously stirred by his fervor, the elemental followed.  Both of them struck and struck hard, and Arendagrost reeled from the blows.  Tower Cleaver, still in blind rage, attacked as well, his axe falling again and again.  

At about that time, Octurus bounded across the clearing and reached the totem.  As he did so, Mandi shouted a command to the elemental, ordering it to focus on the totem as well.  Obediently, the creature turned and slammed both its fists against the wooden idol, sending shivers down its length.  Arendagrost whirled like a cobra, but as he did, Octurus darted in, smashing the hilt of his scimitar into one of the demon’s jaws with an audible crack.  Arendagrost howled, pulling away, while at the same time lashing out with one of his tentacles.  The huge appendage smashed into the Maztican, sending him hurtling through the air until he struck the totem and slumped to the ground.  Rearing up to his full height, Arendagrost readjusted his shattered jaw with a sickening grinding sound.  A moment later, he howled in pain again, as Tower Cleaver’s axe hacked through his tentacles with blind fury.  Arendagrost coiled into himself, like a cobra preparing to strike, and then launched himself at the minotaur.  He was fury incarnate, and he ripped into Tower Cleaver like a hound with a rabbit.  He pinned the barbarian to the ground and then flailed again and again with his tentacles until the minotaur was no longer moving.  Sepoto could only look on in horror, wondering what hope he had against a creature that could so easily defeat his hulking friend.  

Octurus climbed slowly to his feet, and then edged around the back of the totem while Arendagrost’s gaze was averted.  Once there, he readied his blades and began hacking at the pillar as the elemental continued its assault.  The wood seemed made of iron, but slowly, bit by bit, it began to yield and crack.  Just a little more, and the zone would be down, allowing Mandi and Marius to unleash their full power upon Demogorgon’s spawn.  He raised his blades again, but then a massive shadow blotted out the sun above him as another of Arendagrost’s arms came swinging in.  Once again, Octurus was lifted off his feet, landing head-over-heels several yards away.  His head spinning, he climbed to his hands and knees.  As he looked up, however, trying to see how much time he had before the next assault, he realized his time had run out.  The last thing he saw was the behemoth’s maw descending towards him.

Sepoto charged, pelting pell-mell towards the totem.  His friends were beyond his help.  The only chance he had was to destroy the idol.  He ducked between the elemental’s legs, adding his own might to the creature’s massive blows.  Arendagrost turned towards them both as the totem’s wood cracked and splintered.  In desperation, he launched himself at the elemental, the pair colliding like titans.  But it was too late.  With one last swing, the elemental split the totem in two, then shattered it into splinters.  

Daelric saw his chance.  Running as fast as he could, he closed the distance between himself and Tower Cleaver.  As he placed his hands upon the minotaur’s chest, he began to pray.  Within moments, Cleaver’s eyes opened, but he did not draw breath.  He was only a revenant, a half-living vestige of himself, but the spell would buy some time.
“Stay down!” Daelric hissed as the minotaur struggled to rise.  Too late, the priest saw all three of Arendagrost’s heads turn towards them.  All three mouths gaped, and then unleashed a hellish torrent of fire, ice and acid.  Daelric’s celestial nature protected him from the flames, but the cold froze his limbs to the bone, while at the same time the acid melted the skin where it touched.  Then, as he looked down, he saw that the light had left Cleaver’s eyes once more.  

Sepoto stood, looking at the destruction of the totem, feeling the power of his magic flow back into him.  Yet, Arendagrost towered over him, the demon’s own magic obviously functioning as well.  He steeled himself for the inevitable, watching as the son of Demogorgon prepared to strike him down.  But then, as Arendagrost pounced, his attack was brought up short as he seemed to hit some sort of invisible wall.  Then, as the whirling walls of death began to appear, slicing through the giant demon, Sepoto realized what was happening.  Arendagrost was trapped, caged by bars of force created by Mandi.  It was Marius who was conjuring the blade barriers, one-by-one, slowly filling the cage with them, and inexorably shredding the Maw of the Abyss to ribbons.  After that, it was only a matter of time, but Octurus and Tower Cleaver were still just as dead.


----------



## JollyDoc

As Daelric knelt down beside the bodies of Octurus and Tower Cleaver, a coruscating curtain of light flashed into existence on the far side of the battle field.  Another of Iggwilv’s portals had opened, and through the massive Gate marched wave after wave of Orcus’s minions.  First was the IX Exsanguinos, a legion of vampiric warlocks and warriors, followed by the XIII Decapitus, which was comprised of blood fiends, nabassu rogues, death giants and nightwalkers.  All of this Daelric ignored, however, as he kept his head bowed in prayer.  With a surge of power, Octurus and Cleaver arched their backs as they were returned to the half-life of revenants.
“Lie still,” Daelric instructed.  “You don’t have long.  When my spell ends, you will die once more, but rest assured, I will bring you back quickly, and permanently.”
The two warriors were well acquainted with the priest’s methods of resurrection, and so they lay quietly as the throngs of demons and undead passed them by.  Finally, each exhaled a long breath, and closed their eyes once more.  Quickly, Daelric began chanting again, this time snatching the souls of his departed friends before they could completely leave their corporeal shells, reviving them fully back to life, though woefully weakened.

Mandi watched all of this impassively.  She trusted that Daelric knew his job and would carry it out effectively.  Her main attention was focused on the leader of Orcus’s legions.  He was a hulking, powerful man, though his actual race could not be discerned due to the horrific, skull-like mask which covered the upper part of his face.  Mandi would guess that there was ogre blood somewhere in his heritage.  He stalked purposefully towards the sorceress, towering above her when he came to a halt.
“I am Quah-Nomag,” he said, his voice a deep, basso rumble.  “It is well that you secured the portal point, but if you wish for the armies of Orcus to provide the distraction that you need, there is more that must be accomplished.”
Mandi sighed.  “How could I not have guessed that?” she asked, sarcastically.
Quah-Nomag ignored her attempt at humor.
“I will be marshalling my troops shortly for the march to Lemoriax,” he said.  “However, we cannot approach closer than several miles from the city, for Demogorgon has placed an interdiction zone about his capital.  No being may teleport into or out of this zone, save by Demogorgon’s will.”
“So?”  Mandi shrugged.  “You have almost 50,000 troops behind you.  Why not simply march on the city?”
Quah-Nomag looked at her impassively.  “Because the Demos Horde stands between us and Lemoriax.  We are vastly outnumbered.  My necromancers can even this imbalance by reanimating every enemy that falls, yet I do not relish the idea of confronting a force as large as the Horde.  Yet, a demon army is only as strong as its commander.  If they were to lose their leader, we could shatter them with ease.”
“Wait,” Mandi said, her eyes wide.  “So, not only do you want us to bring down this interdiction zone, but you also want us to waltz into an enemy camp and attempt to assassinate their general?”
“Just so,” Quah-Nomag nodded.  “It might be of note to you that, not only does the interdiction field protect Lemoriax, but it also inhibits entry into Wat Dagon as long as it exists.”
Mandi stewed silently as she mulled over the implications to the general’s words.  Finally, she spoke again.  
“How can the interdiction zone be brought down?” she asked.
Quah-Nomag shrugged.  “You are supposed to be a powerful sorceress, correct?  I would think that one such as you would be able to analyze the magical nature of the zone and come up with a solution.”
Mandi’s face reddened.  Clenching her jaw, she asked her next question.
“And who, pray tell, currently leads the Demos Horde?”
“Tetradarian,” Quah-Nomag said with a half-smile.  “Bagromar’s clone brother.”
“This deal is getting worse all the time,” Mandi muttered.
________________________________________________________

In the end, the Legionnaires really had no choice.  If they hoped to reach Wat Dagon, they would need to have the interdiction zone down, and if they wanted Quah-Nomag to provide the distraction they needed, they would have to give in to his demands.  So it was that, once again, the six companions became one with the wind, leaving the legions of Orcus far behind, and far below.  Within minutes, they crested a high ridge and saw the Demos Horde sprawled before them, the dark towers of Lemoriax crouching behind.  Mandi immediately detected the powerful weave that comprised the interdiction.  She could tell that it was a manifestation of Demogorgon’s will, not just some cast spell, and as such, it would only be possible to bring it down by destroying its focus, or disrupting Demogorgon’s concentration on it.  The former option seemed extremely unlikely, given that the focus seemed to be a massive ziggurat right in the center of the city.  The latter, however…Mandi tapped her chin pensively.  Iggwilv had told her that she would know when the time was right to release Obox-ob.  She sensed that time was now.  With Demogorgon’s most feared adversary slavering at the walls of his capital city, surely the demon prince’s attention would be weakened enough to cause the zone to falter, and then once Orcus’s troops began teleporting in, it would collapse completely.

Quickly, Mandi outlined her plan for her companions.  They were skeptical, but saw no other realistic options.  So, leaving them hidden in the cloud cover, she drifted down, all but invisible in the hazy air, until she stood directly before the walls of Lemoriax.  Hastily, she regained her corporeal form and drew the flask from her cloak.  Already, she had been spotted and dozens of demons converged on her location.  As she removed the stopper from the flask, however, all of the fiends stopped dead in their tracks.  With a shriek of madness, Obox-ob’s avatar exploded into existence, seizing any living thing within its reach and tearing its limbs off before casting it aside.  As one, the demons panicked, fleeing in all directions though their commanders screamed at them to return to their posts, and then hurled deadly spells after them when they refused.  As for the Lord of Vermin, he had turned his attention to the high walls, casually plucking defenders from its battlements, and then hammering them against the brick and mortar, which began to show cracks splintering from impact points.

Mandi hastily wove a spell, calling out to Quah-Nomag mentally as she saw the interdiction begin to waver.
‘Mission one accomplished,’ she sent.  ‘Send support troops now!’
‘It will be done,’ the general replied.  A moment later, the sky began to fill with winking points of light as five-thousand Nabassus popped into existence.  They fell upon the edges of the Demos camp with a vengeance, and very soon, Mandi was all but forgotten.  She began to concentrate, willing her body back into mist, when, out of nowhere, Iggwilv stood beside her.
“Well done,” the Witch Queen smiled.  “I’ll be taking the flask now.”  She held out one perfectly manicured hand.
Mandi looked at her with red fury in her eyes for a moment, but then realized that she walked a razor’s edge between life and death at that moment.  Reluctantly, she handed the flask over.
Iggwilv nodded and smiled again.  
“See you soon,” she said cryptically, and then promptly vanished.


----------



## JollyDoc

“Now is the time,” Mandi said, once she’d rejoined her companions.  “While they are disorganized and panicked, we strike now.  They’ll never see us coming until it’s too late.”
The others nodded in agreement, and then quickly began their descent.  Tetradarian’s command center was identical to Bagromar’s, complete with a broad clearing around the central pavilion.  It was there that the Legionnaires landed, solidifying rapidly, unnoticed by demonic eyes.  Cautiously, they approached the tent.
“Wait!”  Mandi whispered, holding up her hand.  “There is something I need to do first.”
Closing her eyes, she concentrated, sending out her thoughts once more, only this time she sought out a different general…Bagromar.
‘General,’ she thought, ‘we are outside your brother’s tent.  We are preparing to eliminate him.  Will you join us?’
The response she received was sudden and violent.
‘Fools!’ came Bagromar’s voice.  ‘My brother and I struggle to the death at this very moment!’
Shocked and confused, Mandi nodded for Tower Cleaver to open the flap.

The interior of the pavilion was identical in every way to Bagromar’s, save that no clone of Demogorgon stood at the table.  Instead, a thirty-foot tall demon dominated the center of the enclosure.  His skin was the black of a frost-bitten corpse, with red, bat-like wings, four arms, a snarling orcish head, and a massive gaping mouth in his abdomen flanked by a set of scythe-like pincers.  His stench was horrible, and his sodden flesh was covered with bluish patches.  When he saw the intruders, he growled and flipped the table aside, advancing purposefully.  Mandi was faster.  Flinging her hand forward, she cast, a familiar, disembodied hand materializing out of thin air.  The appendage seized the klurichir demon, lifting him bodily from the ground.  As it did, Cleaver and Octurus threw themselves forward, but before they could reach the fiend, he shrugged off the crushing fingers with a massive flex of his arms.  Then, with a viper-like hiss, he hurled black magic at the two warriors, stunning them with raw, blasphemous power.   He reached out, almost tenderly, towards Cleaver, stroking the minotaur’s jaw with one, jagged nail.  Blood poured from the scratch, and immediately, the minotaur’s flesh began to turn bluish, festering with boils.  Suddenly, a great war cry caused the klurichir to turn, just as Sepoto charged into the tent, his chain a blur of whirling death.  The demon threw up his hands to ward off the blows, only to lose two of his arms to the goliath’s slashing chain.  He struggled desperately to escape the deadly steel, but Sepoto was blind with fury.  He’d seen his friends die once that day already.  He was not going to let it happen again.  By the time Cleaver and Octurus recovered from the dark spell, their foe lay in pieces on the floor, Sepoto standing over the corpse, his chest heaving.

At that moment, Mandi heard a thunderous roar from outside.  She turned, and pulled aside the tent flap.  Orcus’s hordes had arrived en masse, and for a brief moment, she almost pitied the Demos Horde.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Wow, Sepoto shows that TC's not the only one who packs a punch.


----------



## SolitonMan

Joachim said:
			
		

> I'm glad you enjoyed that (your check is in the mail, too).  As far as continuing that side-thread, I think that I could do that, if Joe doesn't mind.  I had one more little bit to add to Mandi's denoument, but I have decided to do that once the campaign ends...provided of course that we win and Mandi survives (not a sure thing, by any stretch).




[STEEPLES FINGERS]

Eeexxxcellent!

[/STEEPLES FINGERS]

I haven't read up to the current postings before writing this, but I have confidence in your team.  Yessir, confidence!  

Of course, we are talking about taking on Demogorgon and depending on Orcus and other demons...maybe Mandi should Mindrape the lot of 'em...


----------



## JollyDoc

*SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER*

1)  The Battle of Wat Dagon begins.  The Legionnaires circle the wagons and then go mano-a-mano with the shock troops.

2)  Upon entering the temple, the companions find themselves face-to-face with...Lavinia?  And where Lavinia is, can Vanthus be far behind??

3)  Deeper into the temple, the group is caught in a pincer maneuver between Demogorgon's Master of Assassins and the first Death Knight ever created by the Prince of Demons.  One of the Legionnaires won't survive this one!!

Next week, my friends (April 6), I fully anticipate the final showdown between the Legion and Big D.  That day also happens to be Joachim's birthday...we'll see if it's happy or not...


----------



## Supar

Thought you guys might wanna see how crazy/cool our JD is I received a E-mail from DEEmoegorgon 

Can you feel it yet??  Can you smell the fear?  Do you know what minotaurs taste like??  Chicken!!!

Is that a yellow stain on the front of Daelric's pants??  Do you know how many times I'm gonna kill Octurus, then revivify him and kill him again??

Bring it!  Me and all my homies are waitin' on ya!!  This is D's House!!  D'S HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


----------



## JollyDoc

You fogot to mention Demogorgon's Home Page...

http://profiles.aim.com/deemoegorgon


----------



## Joachim

I didn't realize that Pikachu was an aspect of Demogorgon...now he can annoy the crap out of me TWICE as fast with all those extra actions!


----------



## Supar

i meant to forget that.....................................................


----------



## Abciximab

Wow. When JD taunts his players he really goes all out. 

I notice the big D doesn't have any buddies. Must be lonely being a two headed representative of evil incarnate. But I've heard a rumor he has a big date coming up with a charismatic sorceress, maybe things are looking up for him.


----------



## Joachim

Abciximab said:
			
		

> I notice the big D doesn't have any buddies.




I already called him on that!  Someone else noticed it, too!


----------



## JollyDoc

Deemoegorgon says he has lots of buddies....they're called thralls!!


----------



## Abciximab

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Deemoegorgon says he has lots of buddies....they're called thralls!!




...and they don't get their own aim accounts. They probably don't live long enough to get the verification e-mail.


----------



## JollyDoc

WAT DAGON

The interdiction field was destroyed.  Orcus’s armies besieged Lemoriax and they would soon by joined by Gwynharwyf’s eladrins.  Orcus himself, if Quah-Nomag was to be believed, was battling Demogorgon at Abysm at that moment.  Nothing stood between the Legionnaires and the Master Pearl at Wat Dagon…or so they thought.

As they traveled the winds once more, a bleak landscape opened beneath them.  A turgid sea of dark water frothed along the desolate shoreline under a roiling sky of green clouds and alien moons.  Built upon the shore, seemingly on the verge of falling into the water, was an ominous edifice that appeared to be a walled temple compound, though its once-vibrant walls were cracked and grimed from eons of exposure to the acrid sea wind.  Tall, conical domes rose above the building, surrounding a vast stone dome at the center.  Swirling eddies of vapor and twisting clouds spiraled along the stony surface of the structure, giving the entire edifice a blurry façade, almost as if it were nothing more than a mirage.  An ancient road wound across the wet, muddy beach that fronted Wat Dagon, crossing a narrow stream via a broken footbridge some hundred yards or more from the temple.  An area closer to the building had been fenced off by stone walls, like some large corral, and a sizeable tent stood along the roadside as it approached the front gates.

As the six companions swooped in low for a closer look, it was the sharp eyes of Octurus that first spotted furtive movement in the misty fog along the stream bank.  
“I never expected the approach to be completely unguarded,” Mandi replied when the Maztican pointed out the skulkers below.  “We’ll land back near the tree line.  From there, I can transport us inside that enclosure, where we’ll at least have some temporary cover.  We may have to fight our way from that point to the main gates, but it will be better than crossing the entire killing field.”
Moments later, the misty, insubstantial forms of the Legionnaires slowly solidified within the cover of the dense jungle foliage.  Then Mandi concentrated, fixing the image of the corral in her mind as her companions linked hands around her.  An instant later, she opened her eyes again, seeing the trampled dirt of the enclosure, and the high walls rising about them.
“Moo!”  Cleaver let out an involuntary bleat before clapping his hand over his mouth.  For a moment, his instinctive bovine fear of enclosed pens got the best of him.
“Shush!”  Mandi hissed, but it was too late.  Guttural voices began shouting in alarm on the other side of the wall, and the sorceress knew their cover had been blown.
“Damn it!” she cursed as magic coursed through her hands and a beam of searing green light struck one of the walls, reducing it to dust.  On the far side, a group of gargoyle-like nabassu demons was clustered.  As soon as they saw the invaders, two of them clasped their hands together and bowed their heads.  With a rush of noise that sounded like a giant sucking in its breath, the air rippled on both sides of the corral, and two, huge, four-armed glabrezus winked into existence, summoned by the nabassus.  Instinctively, the towering demons attacked, summoning their own magic with arms sweeping high.  Suddenly, vertigo seized the Legionnaires as the direction of gravity was inverted, and they all found themselves suspended some thirty feet above the ground, bobbing like corks.  All about them, the battlefield was alive with movement.  No fewer than four nabassus stood near the pen, while further away, three creatures that looked like demonic flies the size of horses were joined by two more of their kind.  Still further, near the stream, four creatures that looked like the rotted corpses of troglodytes unlimbered long bows and knocked arrows.

“I’m taking out one of the glabrezus,” Sepoto growled.  “Who’s with me?”  Abruptly, the goliath sprouted wings from his back, courtesy of a minor trinket he’d picked up on his last trip thru Tashluta.  
“I am,” Octurus said, quickly quaffing an elixir to imbue himself with the power of flight.
“Count me in,” Mandi added, her elven form shifting to that of an infernal pit fiend.
“On me then!” the crusader roared, raising his chain and charging towards the nearest demon.  Mandi passed him, leaping on the glabrezu like a cat and sinking her sharpened fangs into its neck.  As it reeled back, Octurus was there, his blades disemboweling the fiend.  As its life-force left it, the glabrezu quietly vanished.  Mandi looked back towards her companions still trapped within the antigravity field.  Focusing again, she snatched each of them transiently into the Astral Plane, bringing them back several yards from where they had started, safely on the ground again.  

At that moment, the large tent across the road from the corral suddenly shredded as a massive, frog-like hezrou demon erupted from it.  He was dressed in full plate armor, and the leather cloak he wore suddenly billowed out into two, massive, bat-like wings.  He howled in challenge, and charged towards Tower Cleaver, joined by the remaining glabrezu as well as one of the nabassus and a fly-like chasme demon.  Cleaver braced himself for the attack, but before his foes could reach him, his axe swung like a scythe, slashing across all four of the demons.  The chasme fairly exploded as the axe blade cleaved it in two.  Then, with a mighty back swing, the minotaur decapitated both the glabrezu and the nabassu.  The hezrou, Captain Urbala by name, stood stunned and bloodied.  His amphibious eyes went wide as he saw the barbarian bearing down on him, and he threw up his arms defensively, but he might as well have been trying to stop the sky from falling.  By the time Cleaver was done, there wasn’t much left that was recognizable.

Meanwhile, Octurus had taken a second chasme out of the fight, while Marius had lobbed a fireball at another pair, as well as several of the undead archers.  Sepoto was engaged with another of the nabassu, as Daelric quickly took shelter behind him.  Cleaver, axe dripping and no opponents within reach, spied the group scattered by Marius’s conflagration.  Snorting and roaring, the minotaur charged through the mud, hurling bodies aside like cordwood as he struck.  Two of the archers and the two chasme did not rise again.

Though outnumbered initially, the Legionnaires quickly turned the tables on their foes, and the battle became rapidly one-sided.  Only the three remaining nabassu put up any real fight, and still it was a feeble effort.  Within a few minutes, the battlefield was quiet once more, save for the surf endlessly pounding the beach and the ephemeral walls of Wat Dagon.

___________________________________________________________________

Ulu-Thurg, Demogorgon’s Master of Assassins, watched the battle unfold with keen interest.  It didn’t surprise him at all that the demons had been defeated so easily.  After all, had not the mortals just done the impossible by slaying Arendagrost?  No, brute force was not the answer.  He’d been biding his time for just about long enough.  It would soon be time to spring his trap.


----------



## JollyDoc

Wide wooden gates, moldy with age and banded with corroded strips of metal, did little to bar entrance into the complex.  They stood unsecured beneath a stone arch, looking as though an errant breeze could push them open.  Beyond could be seen a short entry tunnel that passed through the gatehouse before opening into a courtyard beyond.  Red tiles covered the gatehouse exterior as well as the walls stretching to either side, though in many places individual tiles had fallen away to reveal the stone beneath.  A steep roof of green clay tiles rising in a series of ragged points topped the gatehouse.  
While the courtyard beyond seemed at first do be open to the air, a glance upward created an unsettling sense of vertigo, for forty feet above, the contents of the room were reflected, down to the smallest pebble, as if the ceiling were an immense and perfect mirror twenty feet above.  The main entrance to the building, a corroded door of beaten bronze, sat in the wall opposite the gatehouse.  Squatting on a ledge above the ten-foot tall doors was a horrific statue of a creature not quite eel or shark or octopus…Dagon himself.  A wooden frame holding a large copper bell stood to the left of the entrance.  A smaller frame held a suspended log to serve as a striker for sounding the bell.  At either end of the courtyard were tall, circular towers with conical golden domes.  Archways, five feet off the ground, opened along the walls to provide access to the chamber within.  Just to the side of the gatehouse sat a small, ornamental pond overgrown with deformed lily pads and algae.  A statue of a fat frog-like demon sat cross-legged at the closest edge of the pool.  Finally, collapsed in a corner of the yard was an immense spider-like carcass the size of an elephant.  It showed signs of heavy damage and deterioration to due exposure.

“Well, well,” a familiar voice said.  “I’ve been waiting patiently.  What took you so long?”
To the shock and astonishment of each of the Legionnaires, an equally familiar figure stepped from the shadows of one of the small towers.  It was none other than Lavinia Vanderboren.
“You are all naïve fools!”  Lavinia mocked.  “Are you so blind that you cannot see that I have orchestrated events from the start so that I might witness Vanthus’s humiliating defeat and aid the Prince of Demons in achieving his goal?  Through my machinations, you have been kept distracted with events in Farshore, and by pretending to be captured, I also kept you from where you were truly needed…in civilization, seeking out the shadow pearls and preventing them from spreading as far as they did.”
Mandi’s face burned and her eyes flashed red.  As she blinked for a moment, her surroundings came into clear focus, and she immediately saw that it was not Lavinia at all who addressed them, but another glabrezu who wore a semblance of her form.
“I see you for what you are demon, so you may drop this pretense,” she commanded.
‘Lavinia’ shrugged, and with a gut-churning blurring of her features, assumed the hulking, four-armed shape of a glabrezu.
“I’m frankly shocked that it took you this long to see through my little disguise,” General Ghorvash chuckled.  “Still, do not let my charade blind you to the truth.  It was I who was responsible for corrupting young Vanthus Vanderboren so many years ago, and it is I who has been impersonating his sister for quite some time now.  Yes, the real Lavinia Vanderboren is dead, and has been for awhile.”
“Liar!”  Mandi spat, her heart growing cold at the possibility.
“Is it?”  Ghorvash asked.  “Why don’t you ask Vanthus yourself?”
He gestured, and from the tower door floated a writhing, worm-like creature that bore the face of none-other-than Vanthus Vanderboren.
“Help me!  Please!” the pitiable wretch squealed.
“That proves nothing!”  Mandi screamed.  “So you’ve managed to harvest Vanthus’s damned soul?  What of it?  Someone was bound to.  That fact gives no credence to your false claims!”
“I do not need for you to believe me,” Ghorvash growled.  “All I need is for you to die!”
The demon raised his hands, wreathing them in black flames, but before he could strike, Sepoto, Octurus and Tower Cleaver rushed across the courtyard in a blur of motion.  As one they struck, and nothing short of Demogorgon himself could have stood before that onslaught.  With bone-crunching finality, General Ghorvash collapsed soundlessly to the ground.

‘Lavinia,’ Mandi sent her thoughts across the multiverse.  ‘It’s Mandi.  Just checking in to see if the funds I promised have been made available, and to see how ship construction is coming.’
For a moment, there was nothing, and Mandi’s blood ran chill.  Then, a voice called back.
‘Everything is fine here.  Why would you worry?  I hope that you are safe.’
Strain dropped from Mandi’s features like a weight, and then she turned to the thing that had once been Vanthus Vanderboren.
“Do you regret the evil you have done?” she asked him, tonelessly.
“Yes!  Please!  Anything!  I’m sorry!  Forgive me!” he wailed.
Mandi lifted one finger, and a thin, emerald beam struck Vanthus, turning him to dust.
“Apology accepted,” she said.


----------



## JollyDoc

Beyond the main doors to the complex was a large antechamber, its floor inlaid with a complex pattern of blue and green tiles that almost gave it the illusion of the surface of a placid pool of water.  Corridors curved away to the left and right, while a closed set of doors stood directly across from the outer doors.  The six companions started into the room when Octurus held up his hand.  His eyes darted to the left, and then to the right, where several moldy crates had been stacked in the halls.
“Company!” he shouted as the air suddenly filled with the hissing of arrows.  From the shadows on either side rose a half-dozen of the same rotting troglodyte archers they had faced outside.  At that exact moment, each of the Legionnaires gasped as the sensation of ice-cold water in their lungs stole their breath.  They all began gagging and choking while the undead continued to pepper them with arrows.  It was Octurus who managed to recover first, holding his fist beneath his breastbone and thrusting up, forcing the brackish seawater up and out.  One by one, his companions began doing the same, but the Maztican did not wait.  Drawing his blades, he leaped towards the nearest group of ghasts.  Tower Cleaver was soon on his feet behind the demon hunter, heading for the second group of undead.

Mandi, still standing in the doorway from the courtyard, wiped the foul-tasting water from her mouth with the back of her hand.  Suddenly, her eyes widened as numbing pain pierced her left side.  Half-turning, her enhanced vision fell upon her invisible attacker.  A heavily muscled, hulking bar-lgura stood there, a cruelly barbed spear in his hands.  She gasped again as he twisted the point in her flesh, the barbs on its shaft digging into his own hands as well.  He seemed oblivious to the pain.
“Demogorgon sends his regards,” Ulu-Thurg laughed.
“Give him mine in return!” she hissed, hurling magic at the demon, hoping to snuff its life out in an instant.   Instead, only a mildly dazed expression came over the bar-lgura’s face, but his grip on his weapon loosened, and Mandi was able to wrench it from her body as she backed into the antechamber.

Octurus fought like a dervish against the ghasts, but quickly, he found himself surrounded.  The undead dropped their bows and came at him with their filthy teeth and claws.  Across the hall, Tower Cleaver was surrounded as well…which was just how he liked it.  Whirling his axe around his head, the blade flaming like the sun, he hewed into his foes.  In rapid succession, all six of them were burned to ash.

“Where is he?”  Marius shouted, a look of concern on his face when he saw Mandi’s wound…a sight neither he, nor any of the other Legionnaires was used to seeing.  
“Out there!”  Mandi gestured.  “Just blow something up!”
Marius nodded.  That he understood.  Fanning his fingers out, he unleashed a cone of white hot flames into the courtyard, not caring who or what he ignited in the blast.  For a brief instant, he saw the bar-lgura wreathed in fire, then just as quickly the demon vanished again.  However, to his shock and dismay, four more of the ape demons lumbered into the courtyard.  At least he thought they were bar-lgura, at first glance.  On closer inspection, he saw that they were in fact just apes, though their barbed hides and horn-plated skulls bespoke their fiendish nature, and the fact that they were all clad in armor was a testament to the fact that they were obviously more than just animals.  Quickly, the warmage loosed another fiery explosion, but the war apes seemed to shrug it off, and kept advancing.

“Daelric!”  Mandi shouted.  “Get out here and show Marius where to shoot!”  
As she pushed past the priest, the sorceress assumed her infernal pit fiend form once again, casually tearing a ghast in half to vent her frustration.  Daelric sighed, not at all happy about being pushed into the front lines once more.  Still, he was somewhat relieved when Octurus broke away from his undead foes and joined him at the doorway.  
“Just point the way,” the Maztican said calmly.
Daelric swallowed, and then began to chant.  As his spell took hold, Ulu-Thurg gradually began to fade back into visibility, his cloak purged.  Octurus didn’t hesitate.  With a whooping war cry, he leaped in among the demonic apes, his scimitars flashing about him.  His momentum was abruptly halted, however, as a beam of blue energy struck him full on, hurled by the bar-lgura.  Instantly, the Maztican felt his strength ebb.  Daelric saw that he was in trouble, and the priest knew that if Octurus fell, he was next.  It was time to even the playing field.  Shouting out the words to another prayer, he conjured a familiar wall of whirling blades across the entire courtyard.  Ulu-Thurg was forced to leap back to avoid the blades, while his ape cohorts went forward.  As they scuttled clear of the wall, Sepoto joined Octurus, and his chain stopped the nearest simian in its tracks, gouging deep slashes in its hide.  Octurus took the opportunity to dart between the advancing apes, hoping to reach Ulu-Thurg, but the big brutes were faster than they looked, and two of them raked the Maztican with their wickedly sharp claws as he passed.  Rolling with the blows, he ended up standing inches away from the bar-lgura, Daelric’s wall the only thing separating them.  Octurus gripped his blades, looking for an opening to strike, but in a blur of motion, Ulu-Thurg struck first.  The demon reached through the blade barrier, heedless of the damage done to his own flesh.  With his free hand, he seized the demon hunter by the shoulder, pulling him closer, while with the other, he thrust his spear completely through Octurus.  Blood geysered from the Maztican’s mouth.  He went momentarily rigid, before going completely limp.  With disdain, Ulu-Thurg slung the human’s lifeless body behind him.

“Nooooo!”  Tower Cleaver shouted.  The minotaur had made his way back to the doors after dealing with the ghasts just in time to witness Octurus’s death.  Snarling, he hefted his axe and hacked savagely at the nearest ape, struggling to push his way through towards the bar-lgura.  A moment later, fiery bolts of lightning crackled among the combatants, striking the demon and all of his cohorts.  Marius’s fingers smoked and he grinned wickedly.  It wasn’t that Octurus’s demise troubled him, but it gave him a convenient excuse to fully cut loose.

Mandi continued to take out her frustrations against the remaining undead, tearing another one apart with little effort.  Abruptly, the other ghasts began to back away from her.
“Why do you flee, chattel?” she called.  “You are already dead.  What more could you have to fear?”
In response, a bone-chilling cold suddenly filled the hall.  Turning her head, Mandi saw that the inner doors had opened, and a figure stood silhouetted there by torchlight.  He was dressed in antiquated plate armor, with a full, slitted helmet that only showed his crimson, glowing eyes.  He carried a humming longsword in one hand, and a strange scepter in the other, topped by an emerald sphere.  He made not a sound, even when he moved.  Saint Kargoth the Betrayer, first among Demogorgon’s Death Knights, had come.  Slowly, he brought his scepter up, and oily green smoke began to billow from it, filling the hall rapidly with a cloying fog that burned the flesh that it touched, and hindered movement as if it were quicksand.  

Sepoto was unaware of what transpired in the keep behind him, though tendrils of the acidic fog licked at his boots.  His fury was concentrated fully upon the foes before him, and with a flurry of vicious strikes, he took down two of the armored apes in rapid succession.  One of the others, however, darted in, slashing with its barbed talons, rending the goliath’s flesh.  It was at that point that the fog enveloped him completely, shutting out sight and seizing his limbs like tar.  From somewhere behind him, he heard Marius’s voice chanting the words to a spell.  A moment later, a powerful blast of wind swept through the hall, dissipating the deadly mist in a matter of seconds.  Sepoto turned and beheld Kargoth, and he felt the cold of the grave seep into his skin.

Things began to happen more quickly after that.  The Legionnaires found themselves fighting a battle on two fronts, caught between very deadly enemies.  Daelric darted across the antechamber, heading for the relative safety in Cleaver’s shadow.  As he moved, however, Kargoth was like a wraith, silent and swift, swinging his blade with deadly accuracy.  The young priest felt the cold steel bite deeply into his flesh, and its touch burned like the fires of the Hells.  The Death Knight then raised both hands to the sky, and dark power gathered around him like a cloak.  When he unleashed it, a dry wind, like a desert sirocco blew through the five remaining companions, leaching the moisture from their bodies like a vampire.  All mouths went dry, and even sweat dried to nothing in an instant.  Desperately licking his lips so that they would form the words to a spell, Marius conjured the brilliant radiance of pure sunlight.  For a moment, Kargoth recoiled, but when the warmage unleashed the beam, it passed harmlessly through the death knight, striking the fleeing Daelric instead.  The priest screamed as he flesh was seared, and Kargoth turned his baleful gaze towards Marius.

Sepoto and Cleaver moved to interpose themselves between the death knight and the gnome, but when they turned their backs, Ulu-Thurg’s apes rushed forward, clawing and biting at their exposed flanks.  At the same time, Ulu-Thurg, still behind the relative safety of the blade barrier, began loosing volley after volley of arcane force missiles, each one striking any target he indicated unerringly.  Sepoto hesitated, torn between foes, and Kargoth closed the distance between himself and Marius.  He raised blade and scepter to strike, but before his weapons fell, an enormous, glowing hand materialized behind him and seized him in its crushing grip.
“I have him!”  Mandi shouted.
Cleaver and Sepoto needed no further encouragement.  Together they struck, and though their combined might was devastating, Kargoth uttered not a sound.  Instead, red fire coalesced around him in a searing corona, then at his command it expanded, filling the hall, engulfing the Legionnaires.  Mandi clenched her teeth in agony.
“Finish him!” she cried.
No sooner had she spoken, than another radiant sunbeam flew from Marius’s hand, and this time it struck true.  Kargoth was immolated in an instant, reduced to a rapidly dissipating cloud of ash.

In the mean time, Ulu-Thurg’s apes had reached the hall, and they continued their relentless assault on Sepoto, who still struggled to recover from the death knight’s withering attacks.  Crying out in pure rage, the goliath crusader stretched to his full height, biceps rippling as he swung his chain like a guillotine.  It crushed the skull of the first ape, then Sepoto pivoted and ripped its full length across the torso of the second, opening it from neck to groin.  It crashed to the ground in a rapidly growing pool of its own blood.

Only Ulu-Thurg remained.  The loss of his minions did not trouble him overly.  They were tools, and they had served their purpose.  The enemies of his master had been severely weakened, and now he would finish them all.  No sooner had he formed this thought, however, than he saw the hulking minotaur charging towards him.  Through the blade barrier Tower Cleaver came, undeterred by the thousands of minute cuts that appeared in his flesh.  Axe raised, his eyes glazed over and froth and saliva slung from his jaws.  Insensate with rage, he fell upon the bar-lgura, and in that moment, Ulu-Thurg understood that death, violent and bloody, had come for him.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Kudos, JollyDoc. Had you separated the encounters, Ulu-Thurg & his apes would have been a lot less deadly. I just hope the Legion has enough resources left for what's to come! 
Personally, I don't think that you will finish tonight. Unless, of course, the dice roll one-sided. 

Happy birthday, Joachim. I hope it counts for something tonight.


----------



## carborundum

Woah! That was pretty intense!


----------



## Burningspear

Kewl!


----------



## JollyDoc

Well, our Savage Tide campaign came to an end tonight, and it was truly an epic conclusion, with punishment being given and taken by both sides.  No giveaways on the outcome, but you will not be disappointed!  

Congrats to my team for over a year and half's worth of effort, regardless on the final result


----------



## Hammerhead

Cool to hear. I'm personally hoping that Mandi pwns Demigorgon with one spell.


----------



## Quartz

Hmm... dying does seem to be one of Octurus's favourite activities. I'm looking forward to the conclusion. Here's hoping that it's 2-1 and not 3-0.


----------



## Joachim

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Cool to hear. I'm personally hoping that Mandi pwns Demigorgon with one spell.




Well...she almost did, but the Big D apparently gameplanned ahead and took precautions against that.  BOO!    

Mandi was forced to try a different tactic using another spell again...and again...and again.  Did it work?  Maybe...maybe not.


----------



## killjoy68116

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> “Apology accepted,” she said.




I knew she was sith!


----------



## Quartz

Joachim said:
			
		

> Well...she almost did, but the Big D apparently gameplanned ahead and took precautions against that.  BOO!




Having two brains helps there


----------



## LordVyreth

killjoy68116 said:
			
		

> I knew she was sith!




So, what does happen to him now, technically?  Reincarnation, oblivion, etc.?  It's possible Mandi was actually performing an act of mercy there.

I'm glad they didn't REALLY go for the "your mentor/guide throughout the entire game was actually the villanous mastermind!" twist.  That one's so overused as it is.


----------



## Evilhalfling

that update was great!  I just reread the final magazine the other week and eagerly waiting to read your games conclusion.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Oh, oh, I fear JollyDoc has won the day, again. Damn you, adventure paths !!! 

Don't know why, it's just a feeling.


----------



## Quartz

I forget what happenned in SCAP, but last time around, JD thought that Kyuss was too weak so beefed him up a bit but accidentally made him unkillable. He was able to use _Time Stop_ and cure himself 600 HP every round.


----------



## LordVyreth

I think that in the SCAP, JD actually made the final battle easier.  By having ENTROPY help the party.  It still wasn't enough, which points to that not being a very balanced fight.


----------



## Hammerhead

I would figure that Entropy's presence would make things more difficult, really. With Entropy there, well, the group couldn't trust her, so they always had to watch their back and hold something in reserve. And it's debatable whether or not the world would be better served with Entropy gone instead of Adimarchus (what did he really do anyway?). 

My bet is firmly with the Legion .


----------



## Minkster

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> I think that in the SCAP, JD actually made the final battle easier.  By having ENTROPY help the party.  It still wasn't enough, which points to that not being a very balanced fight.





Think Again I was there  Entropy really did nothing in the fight untill close to the end which made us keep thinking she was up to something so it left us undecided aout what to do.


----------



## gfunk

SCAP turned out to be a fight between Adimarchus and Entropy.  It would have been a fast TPK if it were just the party vs. Adimarchus.  In the beginning, Entropy did help the party by administering a punishing fourteen negative levels to Adimarchus' angelic form (rendering it it worthless in combat).

Rusty, Dalthon, and Houshang had 0% chance of inflicting any appreciable spell damage on Adimarchus who had high SR and great saves.  In the end, only Grimm had a real change to do damage and we know how that turned out.

Sadly, the party's level was simply too low to fight Adimarchus successfully.  If we had a couple of more levels then I think things may have turned out differently.

I would call SCAP a qualifed victory . . . Adimarchus did retreat after all.

As for Entropy's role, she undoubtedly complicated matters and helped/hurt the party.  Her intervention prevented a TPK - of that I am certain.  Had she not gone crazy and spent all her energy on slaying Adimarchus, I believe the party would have triumphed.


----------



## JollyDoc

PRINCE OF DEMONS

The chamber from which Kargoth had emerged proved to be something of a mystery for the Legionnaires.  A massive stone dome hung forty feet overhead, and at its apex was a large opening that led into the dark interior of the temple’s central, golden spire.  Beneath the opening was inscribed a magical circle with a small cauldron at its center.  Tall, wooden pillars supported the chamber’s dome.  Set in between the pillars were wooden poles upon which had been mounted crude, wooden fetishes.

“These are Maztican,” Octurus said, almost to himself as he walked among the pillars.  “Jaguar, turtle, rhino, tiger, t-rex…all are totems sacred to my people.  What does this mean?  Why would they be here?”
“Perhaps they have something to do with this,” Mandi said as she bent to study the arcane circle.  “This is some sort of focus for the transmission of pure Chaos energy.  Unless I miss my guess, this is the site from which the Savage Tide will be unleashed.  We know that the first recorded evidence of a Savage Tide occurred in Thanaclan.  The presence of Maztican fetishes here cannot be coincidence.”
“What are you implying?”  Octurus asked defensively.
Before Mandi could answer, however, a set of doors on the far side of the chamber was suddenly thrown open, and a living embodiment of her implication floated into the room.  He was an emaciated ruin of a man, dressed in the ragged trappings of a Maztican shaman.  Both of his legs ended in stumps that bore the scars of crude stitching.  His teeth were little more than rotten stumps sharpened to cracked points, and he carried the odor of decay about him.  
“Nulonga curses you!” the man screeched in his native tongue.  “You desecrate this holy place with your infidelity!  Nulonga is the Master’s true servant, and serves the Master well!  You will all be sacrificed to the Prince of Dem…!”
His tirade was cut short as an emerald energy beam from Mandi’s staff reduced him to dust in a matter of seconds.
“Well, that was entertaining,” she said.  “You were saying?”  She turned back to Octurus.  The demon hunter’s expression turned sullen and he turned away, muttering.

Mandi knew from her observation of the temple’s external dimensions that more chambers had to lie further on, and since the master pearl was not to be found in the bot, then she surmised it must lie in some inner room.  The company pressed on, ignoring the door through which Nulonga had come in favor of an open passage on the opposite side of the room.  The tunnel beyond it was low and cramped, circular in cross-section, with floor, walls, and ceiling made of what looked unsettlingly like leather.  The surfaces bore hundreds of thousands of words written in Abyssal, carved into the leathery substance in a tangled mass of interwoven spirals.
“Tower Cleaver not like small, smelly cave,” the minotaur grumbled.
“Yes, well, you’re going in, no matter what you smell,” Mandi snapped.  “I’ve already tried to penetrate the stone walls, and it’s no use.  They are not affected by my magic.  We’ve no choice but to go forward, like rats in a maze.”

Still muttering, Cleaver led the way, bending almost double to fit his bulk into the tunnel.  The others followed as the minotaur zigzagged through the multiple switchbacks of the odd hallway.  Suddenly, what seemed like a small tremor ran through the floor beneath the company, and all of them came to an abrupt halt.  
“Did you feel that?”  Sepoto asked.
“What’s that smell?”  Marius said in disgust.
A second, stronger tremor rippled through the entire passage, and even stranger, the walls began to seep some sort of greenish-yellow fluid.  
“Move!  Now!”  Mandi commanded, but before Cleaver could press forward, the entire hallway began to convulse and shudder, its surface transforming from dry leather to moist, ridged coils.  The walls began closing in, contracting and expanding rapidly, battering the Legionnaires from side to side, and wherever the pungent liquid touched their skin, it burned.  Mandi realized instantly what was happening and, calling upon her magic, once more transformed her body into that of a devilish pit fiend.  As her large form strained against the confines of the living tunnel, she dug her razor-like claws into the walls and began to tear.  Abruptly, the surface gave way violently, and she was pulled through the wall, vanishing from sight in seconds.  The wounds and damage she’d dealt rapidly sealed shut behind her.  Tower Cleaver didn’t need to be told twice.  Hefting his axe, he ripped a large rent down the wall next to him, and he too was ejected from the passage.  Octurus followed suit, and then Daelric called upon Shaundekal, and a column of fire roared down the tunnel, burning a hole in one side through which Sepoto escaped.  
“Fire in the hole!”  Marius shouted from behind the priest, and he ducked instinctively as a second blast of flame filled the passage, melting away the wall’s surface and shunting him and the gnome outside.

The Legionnaires found themselves standing in a large, bare room.  Rearing up before them was the largest, most monstrous looking purple-hued worm they’d ever seen.  Clearly enraged, it whipped its massive body from side to side, bringing down chunks of rock and masonry in a steady shower.  As it reared again, Tower Cleaver and Sepoto struck at it, but its dense hide seemed to deflect their blows.  The great worm snapped its head down towards Marius, still struggling to get to his feet.  The gnome was quickly lifted from the ground, trapped in the beast’s gaping maw.  He knew he was only moments away from being swallowed whole once more, and would have been had it not been for Octurus.  Quick as a snake, the Maztican demon hunter launched himself at the worm, his twin scimitars a dazzling blur.  He sank them both in between the worm’s chitonous plates and sliced, feeling flesh and tendon tear beneath his steel.  The worm went rigid, and flopped to the ground, convulsing helplessly.  In an instant, Mandi was upon it, sinking her black fangs into its primitive brain.  It thrashed once more, then was still.


----------



## JollyDoc

Beyond the chamber of the worm was another large room, the floor of which had collapsed, leaving a boiling pool of green water five feet below a rickety wooden bridge, its planks slippery with green mold and black mildew.  The chamber was stifling, with clouds of sulfurous steam filling the room, preventing an accurate guess at its size or the eventual destination of the treacherous-looking bridge.  Not trusting to Abyssal architecture, each of the Legionnaires took flight by various means, keeping sight of their comrade directly in front of them as they moved cautiously through the mist.  Ultimately, the bridge ended at a metal door, which glowed red-hot from the heat in the room.  Sepoto fished out a key they had found on Nulonga’s body, and tried it in the lock.  It fit perfectly, but it did not turn as expected.  So intricate was the lock that it took the goliath the better part of a minute to open it, during which time the key became dangerously hot itself, threatening to melt in his hand.

When Sepoto pushed the heavy door open, he at first thought that he had reemerged outside the temple.  Murky water lapped at the sloping shore that served the room as a floor, and it gave off an acrid, rotten stench.  In the shallows sat an enormous oyster, rising from the water like a massive shark’s fin, its valves serrated and spiked and studded with razor-sharp horns.  The blackened and pitted shell smoked as if it had recently been exposed to great heat, and its interior was charred black as well rather than the expected opalescence of mother-of-pearl.  Within, on a slithering bed of horror and alien flesh, rested a huge, black pearl, larger than a man’s head, which pulsed with black energy in which ghostly, disembodied faces seemed to shriek.  A pair of four-foot high wooden stakes with strips of leather hanging from their sharpened points protruded from the oily sand on the narrow beach near the monstrous shellfish.

“That’s it!”  Mandi hissed.  “The master pearl!”
As if sensing the presence of intruders, the oyster’s valves suddenly snapped shut.  An instant later, a large, glowing Gate opened on the far side of the room.  Through it could be seen the city of Lemoriax in flames, armies of demons being driven deeper into its heart by the advance of Gwynharwyf’s  and Quah-Nomag’s armies.  Yet it was the sight of the Prince of Demons himself, closely followed by a burly balor, shouldering his way through the portal that struck horror into the hearts of the Legionnaires.  Demogorgon had come.  In one tentacle he clutched a bloody, curling ram’s horn, and his body was hideously scarred.  
“Fools!” his twin heads shrieked in rage, their dual voices echoing telepathically in the minds of the companions.  “At last you reveal yourselves to my wrath!  The audacity of your ridiculous plan is almost enough to convince me to simply destroy you!  But here I find you at this, the heart of my Savage Tide!  Know that even as my minions crush the last of your pathetic invasion, your own deaths will be neither quick nor painless!  They will be works of wonder, tortures to inspire the ages!  You will, at my touch, become legends!”

The Gate began to close behind the demon lord, and as it did, the Legionnaires beheld one last, hope-breaking sight:  Gwynharwyf herself was sprinting towards it, diving at the last second, but too late.  It snapped shut before she could make it through.  At a gesture from Demogorgon, the oyster opened once more, and the master pearl floated through the air towards him.  He opened one of his mouths wide and calmly swallowed the gem whole.  Then, he gestured again, and a second, massive Gate opened on the northern side of the chamber, where the wall appeared to have collapsed, revealing open ocean beyond.  What stepped through the portal was a creature out of nightmare: a colossal, two-headed dragon, each head sprouting curved horns, with leathery, black tentacles writhing from its back.  Each of its heads snorted, one breath of fire, the other of ice, and it pawed the water with cloven hooves.  Demodragon, the spawn of Demogorgon himself, long –rumored to be mere myth or legend, had answered the summons of his sire in an all-too tangible way.

Sepoto stood, dumb-founded as events unfolded, his companions still in the steaming chamber behind him.  He had half a mind to slam the door shut and forget their insane mission altogether, but he knew it was much too late for that.  Before he could act however, one of the dragon’s tentacles snaked forward and wrapped tightly about the chain gripped in his hands.  With dawning horror, the goliath realized the creature was attempting to steal his weapon from him.  Clenching his jaw, he heaved with all his might, desperately trying to hold onto the chain.  As he did so, the others began pushing past him, entering the chamber.  At the same moment the balor Belcheresk, Admiral of Demogorgon’s navy, charged forward.  

Daelric had just shouldered his way past the crusader when he looked up to see the oncoming fury of the balor.  With a girlish shriek, he plastered himself against the wall just as the demon swung its lightning-edged sword.  The blade seemed to move in slow motion as it whickered towards him.  The tip sliced into his neck and ripped straight across, just missing the great vessels and his trachea, leaving him bloodied and hyperventilating, realizing he had come within an inch of losing his head.  

Sepoto finally wrenched his chain free of Demodragon’s grip, but as he turned, his eyes met those of Aameul, and in that gaze, the crusader saw only madness.  His arms dropped to his side, and his jaw went slack as he began to drool and gibber senselessly.

Tower Cleaver pushed into the chamber, shoving Sepoto roughly to one side.  His goliath friend was incapacitated, and a sitting duck where he stood.  Hefting his blade, pushing back the fear that threatened to consume him at the sight of the demon lord, the minotaur hurled himself forward.  As he did, one of Demogorgon’s whip-like tentacles snapped out, slamming into the barbarian with the force of a battering ram.  Tower Cleaver rolled with the impact, and let his momentum carry him towards the balor, his axe blade ripping deep into the demon’s thigh.

Suddenly, from out of the murky water behind Demogorgon, a figure began to rise.  Despite its ragged clothing, clouded eyes, and decaying flesh, it was obvious to all that it bore more than a passing resemblance to Vanthus Vanderboren…except for the fact that it was missing its legs below the knees, the stumps crudely stitched and oozing.  When the creature opened its mouth to speak, the curses it hurled were Maztican.

At that precise moment, Demogorgon began to bellow and roar, but this time, his cries did not seem to be so much of anger as they were of pain.  He clutched at his chest where one of the more jagged scars had sprung open, oozing black ichor.  For a brief moment, the demon lord sagged.  Mandi wasted no time.  While the demon prince was distracted, she began casting, building a massive force wall across the entire north side of the chamber, effectively walling Demodragon out.  The great beast howled and snarled, hurling itself over and over again against the impregnable barrier, all to no avail.  It could sense the magic it craved, just beyond its reach, but that only seemed to madden it further.  Still, all its anger was impotent.  It could not breach the wall.  Satisfied that at least one threat had been neutralized, Mandi turned her attention back to Demogorgon.  He seemed to be recovering from whatever had come over him, but before he could fully regain his composure, the sorceress struck again, hurling her most powerful magic at him, ripping the vasculature from his body.  The demon prince spit and twisted, ripping himself free of his own entrails, shrieking in agony as me moved.

Daelric quickly darted towards the still babbling Sepoto.  Cupping the goliath’s face in both hands, the priest began whispering a prayer in Sepoto’s ear.  Slowly, the crusader’s eyes began to clear, and his pulse slowed.  When Daelric pulled away, he could see that his friend was in his right mind again…for the moment.

Cleaver saw Demogorgon’s plight, and knew he would never have a better opportunity to strike.  As he closed the distance, however, the Prince of Demons turned his full wrath upon the charging minotaur.  One of his tentacles snapped across Cleaver’s chest and the sickening crackle of ribs breaking could be heard from across the room.  Then another of the tendrils seized him around the middle, lifting him from the ground.  Where the foul appendage touched, the barbarian’s flesh began to putrefy and rot.  Cleaver was in agony.  Savoring the moment, Demogorgon lifted his prey higher still, and then both of his heads snapped forward, sinking their fangs into Tower Cleaver, tearing great chunks of meat from his body.  To the horror of his companions, the minotaur went horribly limp, and Demogorgon dropped him to the ground like so much refuse.
“As I promised,” the demon lord growled, “works of wonder.”

As Daelric backed away from Sepoto, he heard a sharp snap behind him.  When he turned, he saw Belcheresk looming over him, his sword gripped in one hand, a whip of flames in the other.  As the priest threw up his hands defensively, the balor slashed and rent the air with both weapons.  Blow after blow reigned down upon Daelric, and only the powerful wards he had woven about him kept him from dying a horrible, gruesome death in that instant.  Two close calls in as many minutes were more than enough.  The priest ducked behind Sepoto, making for the exit, but as he went, the thing that had been Vanthus Vanderboren, and now spoke with the voice of the Maztican priest Nulonga, hurled a ray of cold blue power after him.  When it struck, Daelric felt every bit of his strength leached from him, and he collapsed under the weight of his own armor, inches from the door.  Octurus was emerging from the mist on the other side of the archway, but he suddenly came up against an invisible barrier, and stopped in his tracks.  A second force wall, but this one was not Mandi’s doing.  Instead, it was the undead sorcerer who had now successfully split the companions, with Octurus and Marius on the far side of the barrier, and Sepoto, Daelric and Mandi on the near.  Sepoto never noticed.  He was too busy focusing on the oncoming balor.  Now that Daelric was down, it was the goliath who received the admiral’s full attention, but the hulking demon quickly found that this opponent would not prove as ready prey.  Sepoto’s chain snapped out, meeting Belcheresk's whip lash for lash, but drawing far more blood.

Suddenly, the room was split once more by Demogorgon’s cry.
“Arendagrost!!!!” he screamed, grabbing both of his heads, and nearly crumpling to one knee, but even as he did so, it was obvious to Mandi that his wounds were rapidly healing and sealing themselves shut.  Once more she leveled her staff at the bothersome Maztican sorcerer, and once more he crumbled into ash as the green ray struck him.  Then, before Demogorgon could fully recover, she avasculated him once again.

Daelric struggled in vain to crawl closer to the broken form of Tower Cleaver, but it was no use.  He could barely raise his head.  Still, he could muster enough strength to speak, barely.  Calling desperately to Shaundekal, he invoked the Traveler’s power in a mighty healing surge that swept over him and his companions.  In an instant, his strength was restored, and he heaved himself to his feet.  He saw Cleaver blink his big cow eyes open, and then watched them glaze over in abject rage.  The mighty minotaur surged to his feet, drawing the attention of both Demogorgon and Belcheresk.  They were upon him in a flash, tentacles, teeth, sword and whip flailing and slashing at him, opening horrible, weeping wounds in his newly restored flesh, but Cleaver did not falter.  He stayed on his feet and held his ground.  If this was to be his end, let it be such an end as to inspire tales for decades to come.

Mandi turned her staff in Daelric’s direction, and for a moment, the priest thought she too had been driven insane by the demon prince, but instead of annihilating him where he stood, she blasted apart the barrier Nulonga had created, allowing Octurus and Marius to finally join the fray.  As they came, however, Belcheresk turned from Cleaver to meet the new threat.  Sword blazing and whip flashing, he met the new arrivals head on.  Octurus suffered a horrible gash across his right leg, causing it to go momentarily numb and limp.  Before the demon could do further damage, however, Demogorgon ceased his attack upon Cleaver and howled once again, clutching both skulls as if they were about to split apart.
“How dare you??” he cried.  “How could you let the Vermin Lord into my beautiful city???  I will crush you all!!!”
With that, he lumbered through the growing mass of his own innards, and in a whirlwind of fury, terrible to behold, he flailed about him with his tentacles, smashing into Octurus, Sepoto, Marius and Tower Cleaver.  The Maztican and the gnome immediately cried out as the wounds inflicted began to fester with corruption.  As Marius fell to the ground, Belcheresk was upon him.  The balor’s fiery whip lashed out, wrapping itself around the warmage’s legs and pulling him right up against the flaming skin of the demon.  As Belcheresk began to crush the life out of the little gnome, Sepoto leaped, his chain suddenly transforming into a net of barbed, blood tinged blades.  When it struck, it nearly split the balor’s skull in two, and in a flash of brilliant light and flaming gore, Belcheresk exploded.  When his sight cleared, Sepoto saw that there was nothing left of the balor…but there was nothing to be seen of Marius either.

Time seemed to slow.  To Mandi, everything seemed to move with vivid clarity.  As she watched, Sepoto, Octurus and Tower Cleaver swarmed towards Demogorgon.  Then, to her amazement and fury, another figure slipped into the room from the steam-filled chamber.  It appeared to be one of the undead troglodytes they had dispatched in the antechamber, but its legs were missing below the knees, and she knew that somehow the accursed Maztican shaman had managed to resurrect himself yet again. As he entered, he quickly struck Daelric again with the strength draining magic he seemed to enjoy so much.  Then, incredibly, his scaly arms seemed to elongate as he reached out and raked his claws across the priest.  Where they touched, the flesh turned black and putrid.  Daelric cried out, pawing at his face as he sank to his knees.  Meanwhile, the warriors three, incredibly, actually seemed to be holding their own against the demon prince, though that moment was fleeting.  The dark lord whirled on Octurus, battering the demon hunter with a devastating combination of bites and slams, sending him hurling into the churning water where he floated face-down, unmoving.  Mandi’s power was almost drained.  She didn’t have many tricks left in her book, but what she had was devastating.  One final time, she ripped the vessels from the ever-healing demon prince, and as he staggered from the assault, Cleaver moved in.  Swinging his axe in a mighty arc, he disintegrated the reanimated Nulonga as his blade passed through the undead shaman, and when its momentum carried it around, it severed one of Demogorgon’s tentacles cleanly before cleaving into the Prince of Demons himself.  
“Tower Cleaver kill gods!!!” the minotaur wailed, his fur bristling, blood streaming from multiple wounds, froth and foam flying from his lips.  

For a brief moment, complete silence enveloped the chamber.  Then, like a monolithic colossus, Demogorgon, Prince of Demons, Lord of the Savage Tide, simply collapsed.  As he did so, a nimbus formed around his heads, resembling two crowns of dark energy.  They quickly merged into one single circlet as Demogorgon’s dying roar echoed from Wat Dagon and into both Gaping Maw and Shadowsea.  All those watching, and all who heard that cry, were instantly aware that the Dark Crown represented the right of mastery over the entire Abyssal layer of Gaping Maw, and the title of new Prince of Demons.  For a moment, almost involuntarily, Mandi’s had stretched out for it, but in an instant, the Crown was snatched away.  Somewhere nearby, a new Lord of Gaping Maw had been anointed.

Silence again, this time broken only by the sound of a single pair of hands clapping.  Into the chamber strode Iggwilv.  
“Well done, my children,” she said, smiling.  “Well done, indeed.”
She approached the fallen demon lord’s corpse, and from her robe she pulled Tuerny’s Flask, unstoppering its neck.  The lingering motes of blackness and writhing smoke that coiled around the body were rapidly drawn into the receptacle, and the corpse quickly moldered away to nothing, leaving only the master pearl in its wake.
“Now,” the witch queen said, turning to the survivors, “I believe you all have a date with destiny…”

TO BE CONCLUDED…


----------



## Hammerhead

Had he been alive for the death blow, I bet Marius would have grabbed the crown for himself. Too bad. 

A hell of a fight though.


----------



## carborundum

Awesome, absolutely awesome!

Nulonga, Belcheresk, Demogorgon and Demodragon! Nice of you to keep Venger out of the fight


----------



## Quartz

Nice one. Pity about their promise to Ahazu.


----------



## Vaslov

Congrats!  After lurking through three AP's with you all I'm glad to see the party take the BBG down.  I enjoy reading the story and character builds quite a bit.  Thanks so much for sharing the fun.


----------



## Aracase

Booya!


----------



## Quartz

Aracase said:
			
		

> Booya!




A fine blow indeed. I just hope TC wasn't so foolish as to claim the prize.


----------



## JollyDoc

Quartz said:
			
		

> A fine blow indeed. I just hope TC wasn't so foolish as to claim the prize.





That is absolutely the LAST thing in the multiverse TC wants.  I think you'll be quite surprised and entertained when you see what the future holds for everybody's favorite minotaur


----------



## carborundum

Congratulations to the saviours of the Realms! I'm looking forward to the rest - there's plenty of loose ends 

Let's see ... 
Ahazu wants a soul (would Demodragon satisfy him? Is it still trapped by a forcewall?)
Someone got a crown
There's an Exalted Aspect of Big D running around
TC has a mysterious but cool plan

What did I miss?


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:
			
		

> Congratulations to the saviours of the Realms! I'm looking forward to the rest - there's plenty of loose ends
> 
> Let's see ...
> Ahazu wants a soul (would Demodragon satisfy him? Is it still trapped by a forcewall?)
> Someone got a crown
> There's an Exalted Aspect of Big D running around
> TC has a mysterious but cool plan
> 
> What did I miss?





Let's see....

The second half of Joachim's Mandi soliloquy...
What about Marius?
What about Octurus?
Where did that pesky Obox-ob get to?
What about the Master Pearl?

And much, much more!!


----------



## Schmoe

Wow.  Awesome work, and very well told.  Congratulations to everyone!


----------



## LordVyreth

Oh, I have one: What was Nulonga's deal?


----------



## carborundum

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Let's see....
> 
> The second half of Joachim's Mandi soliloquy...
> What about Marius?
> What about Octurus?
> Where did that pesky Obox-ob get to?
> What about the Master Pearl?
> 
> And much, much more!!




What about Meravanchi & Mandi? (possibly in Joachim's post - hope so)
What happened Marius while he was away?
JollyDoc's 1000th post


I love this Story Hour!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Congratulations !!! With all the backup Demogorgon had...awesome! 

JollyDoc didn't hand you any favors, so enjoy your very own 100% (almost) perfect victory. Almost only, since Mandi didn't get to become Queen of Demons. 


But why didn't you stop (CR29) Iggwilv ? 



			
				LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Oh, I have one: What was Nulonga's deal?



This bugger is very tiresome to kill. He can move into the corpses lying around Wat Dagon when one form is killed.


----------



## Hammerhead

You know, a Disjunction plus a concentrated spike could probably take her out.


----------



## Joachim

carborundum said:
			
		

> What about Meravanchi & Mandi?




All will be revealed...


----------



## JollyDoc

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Oh, I have one: What was Nulonga's deal?





Nulonga was a human sorcerer/thrall of demogorgon.  One of his supernatural abilities was called Death Wish.  As an immediate action, he could will his body to die.  If he was struck by a lethal attack, he could use this ability the instant before he died to free his soul to inhabit any other humanoid corpse within 1 mile.  The corpse would animate as a juju zombie, but he would still have all of his normal abilities.  Sucks.


----------



## Schmoe

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Nulonga was a human sorcerer/thrall of demogorgon.  One of his supernatural abilities was called Death Wish.  As an immediate action, he could will his body to die.  If he was struck by a lethal attack, he could use this ability the instant before he died to free his soul to inhabit any other humanoid corpse within 1 mile.  The corpse would animate as a juju zombie, but he would still have all of his normal abilities.  Sucks.




The best part of it all, IMHO, is that Nulonga's depraved devotion to Demogorgon compels him to saw off the legs of whatever form he inhabits before he does anything else.  I personally thought Nulonga was a stroke of genius.  Twisted, disturbing, and macabre genius, but genius nonetheless.


----------



## LordVyreth

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Nulonga was a human sorcerer/thrall of demogorgon.  One of his supernatural abilities was called Death Wish.  As an immediate action, he could will his body to die.  If he was struck by a lethal attack, he could use this ability the instant before he died to free his soul to inhabit any other humanoid corpse within 1 mile.  The corpse would animate as a juju zombie, but he would still have all of his normal abilities.  Sucks.




Ouch.  I would have suggested feebleminding or otherwise neutralizing non-lethally, but if it's an immediate action he could have probably saw it coming and offed himself first anyway.  Well, maybe a still and silent spelled feeblemind, or one cast by the invisible, but otherwise that would be annoying.  Does that mean he's still not technically dead?  Or did whacking Demogorgon negate his thrall powers?


----------



## Quartz

If you read the module, Nulonga has a decent chance of becoming the new Big D. But _Feeblemind_ing him would have been a good option. Of course, they didn't know that.


----------



## JollyDoc

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Does that mean he's still not technically dead?  Or did whacking Demogorgon negate his thrall powers?





All in good time, my friend...all in good time...


----------



## primemover003

Lords of Light!  All that reading and the end is mere days away from being revealed!!!

I've got to get back to writing my STAP story hour now!  Starting COBI this weekend.


----------



## Monkey Boy

Congrats on the win Jolly Doc's crew.

You sure showed Demogorgon who's boss.


----------



## JollyDoc

EPILOGUE

“You have no right to claim what’s ours, witch!”  
Tower Cleaver’s biceps barely showed tension as he held back the furious goliath.  Several safe feet away stood Iggwilv, Mandi by her side.  
“What’s yours?”  the witch queen said, smiling and cocking her head.  “By what right do you claim the soul of a demon lord?”
“By the right that he died by our hands!”  Sepoto screamed.
“An accomplishment that would not have been possible without my assistance,” Iggwilv said, matter-of-factly.
“Mandi, are you just going to stand there and let her do this?”  the crusader glared at the sorceress.  “Do you not recall what’s at stake here?”
“If you mean your ill-conceived bargain with Ahazu,” Iggwilv interrupted, “Mandi has nothing to fear…not as long as she is under my protection.”  She looked meaningfully at her new apprentice.
“Where does that leave us??”  Sepoto raged.
Iggwilv sighed, and began pacing in irritation.  “It leaves you with a big problem that is exactly that:  your problem, not mine.  I have kept my side of the bargain.  I gave you no assurances beyond that.  Still, certainly you realize that things have changed since your little arrangement with the Seizer?”
“Yes, they’ve changed all right!”  the crusader spat.  “You’ve used us and now you’re throwing us to the wolves!”
Iggwilv shrugged.  “That may well be, but that’s not what I’m speaking of.  You’ve just slain a demon lord, and not just any demon lord…the Prince of Demons.  Do you think just anyone could do that?  Thousands have tried before, most more capable than you, and none have succeeded.  Why is that, do you think?  Certainly you had help, but that alone could not have assured your victory.  No, for whatever reason, you and your companions were chosen for this.  By whom, I cannot say, but there are powers at work here greater than you can comprehend…certainly greater than Ahazu.  You have achieved something epic here today, and though your pact with the Seizer still holds great power, it is no longer absolute.  Ahazu will still try to collect, but the outcome is by no means assured.”
Sepoto was quiet for a moment, distrust still on his face, but his rage somewhat lessened.  
“Are you saying…you’ll help us?” he asked at length.
“I’ve helped you more than you deserve,” she laughed.  “No, you are no longer my concern, but there are others who might see things differently.  By my calculations, you have about fifty-five days left to find out.”

Daelric only half-listened to the debate.  The young cleric had managed to undo most of the damage Nulonga had inflicted upon him, and had also fished Octurus out of the water.  Fortunately, the demon hunter had still been alive…barely.  Daelric had brought him back to consciousness, and had healed the worst of his wounds, but the rest would have to wait.  The priest was exhausted and drained physically, emotionally and spiritually.  
“This is all I could find,” he said quietly, almost to himself.  “There’s nothing else left.”
He held a small, severed finger in one hand, all that remained of Marius.
“Maybe tomorrow I can beseech Shaundekal to grant me greater power to restore him, but not today.”
“Each day your friend’s soul spends in limbo is another that Ahazu can use to imprison it,” Iggwilv said.
“What would you have me do?”  Daelric replied angrily, rising to his feet.  “Can you restore him to life?  Can you do anything but gloat?”
“I am no healer,” the witch answered, ignoring his insults.  “Quite the opposite, in fact.”
“Perhaps I can help,” Octurus said, taking the grisly appendage from Daelric’s hand.
“You?”  Daelric asked.  “How?  No offense, but voodoo and witchcraft aren’t going to be of much use here.”
“Perhaps,” the Maztican shrugged, “but the magic of my people is ancient, and relies on the universal forces of nature…forces that apply even in this, the most unnatural of environments.”
He clutched Marius’s finger in his grip, and bowed his head, chanting low, the words unintelligible.  As he finished, he touched each of his totemic tattoos in sequence, then placed the digit on the ground.  Nothing happened.  The dead flesh remained inert.  Octurus sighed, and bowed his head.
“His soul does not answer,” he said.  “He is gone…beyond our reach forever…”
____________________________________________________________

“What of the master pearl?”  Mandi asked quietly, once she and Iggwilv were out of earshot of the others.
“You must remove it to a safe place,” her mistress replied.  “As long as it exists, the Savage Tide can still be triggered, and who knows what whims might strike the new Prince of Demons?”
“You know who it is?” Mandi asked, her eyes wide.
“Of course!”  Iggwilv smiled.  “There were only a handful of realistic candidates on Gaping Maw at the time of Demogorgon’s death:  Dagon, Tetradarian, Orcus and…Graz’zt.”
Mandi’s jaw dropped as the witch queen ticked off the names.
“Do I dare ask who was the victor?”
“Why, none other than our old ally…Orcus,” Iggwilv answered.  “There was never any real doubt in my mind that it would be him.  After all, he among them all is the only one who has ever truly touched divinity.  It has always been his hope to regain that status, and with the added power of the Crown, he might just succeed.  Ah, but these are concerns for lesser beings, my pet.  As I was saying, your first responsibility is to secure the master pearl, and then find a way to destroy it.  A Savage Tide sweeping across the Prime does not suit my future plans.”
_________________________________________________________________

In the end, there was only one logical choice as a secure location to study the master pearl and find a means of destroying it…the Court of Stars.  The six companions and Iggwilv left Wat Dagon, and the witch queen then opened one final portal to the home of the eladrin and sent the Legionnaires through, promising that they would meet again…soon.

Morwel and the Court greeted the six as legendary heroes, and the celebrations that followed went on for days.  Gwynharwyf was overcome when she finally had a chance to speak with the companions alone.  She was profuse in her apologies for not being able to aid them in their hour of need, but swore her eternal gratitude to them all for their accomplishments.  Octurus, especially, she favored, and when the Maztican demon hunter told her of their misguided arrangement with Ahazu, the Whirling Fury vowed to speak with Morwel on his behalf…and on behalf of Tower Cleaver.  For a short time, the minotaur seemed completely at peace.  While on the Court of Stars, he never donned his armor, nor did he carry any arms.  He spent hours under the stars, or wandering far in the lush fields or fragrant woods.  He became something of a mascot for many of the eladrin, and his laughter could be heard booming through the Court at all hours.

Ultimately, the task of destroying the master pearl proved simplicity itself.  Hours of research on the part of Mandi and Marius, aided by the brightest minds among the eladrin, revealed that the pearl need only be immersed in waters of exceptional serenity and purity.  The Fountain of Beauty proved more than adequate.  As Mandi dipped the pearl into the pool, it crackled and smoked, seemingly on the verge of bursting, before turning white and brittle, the consistency of chalk.  The threat of the Savage Tide was ended.


----------



## JollyDoc

The last time that the Legion gathered as a team was once more by the Fountain of Beauty.  This time, no eladrin accompanied them.  They had asked for privacy.  All of them knew that the end of an era was at hand, and what they had accomplished as a team could never be recaptured.  It was a time for goodbyes…for endings…and new beginnings.  Each of them drank again from the fountain, this time in remembrance of allies gone.  Each took a turn reciting the names:  Ferox, Gotr, Xerxes, Anwar, Basil, Thrisp, Samson, Gregor, and finally, Marius.  
“To old friends,” Mandi toasted.
“So say we all!” the others responded, and then the moment passed.  There was nothing more that needed to be said.  They had fought together, bled together, and in the end, triumphed…together.  They clasped hands, one with another, embraced, and then each went their separate way into the darkness under the stars and the boughs above them.
________________________________________________________________

Time passed, as time will.  The deeds of the Legion were not told in taverns, nor sung by bards.  Few, in fact, ever knew of the small group of adventurers who had risked all to save an entire world.  Few ever knew their world was in danger.  They went about their mundane lives ignorant of the war that had raged beyond the curtain of their existence, and perhaps, that was for the best.

When a lone goliath entered the sanctuary of the church of Savras in Tashluta, he was greeted with shock and joy by the brethren who thought him lost to them.  He offered no explanation of where he’d been for almost two years, but it was obvious to those who had known him that something fundamental had changed in the once jovial crusader.  He resumed his duties within the church, but in time, it became clear that he had returned from his sabbatical with renewed purpose.  He began recruiting from the most promising of the church’s clergy, training them in the ways of the Eye.  Most he schooled as warriors, like himself, lethal and deadly fighters, but others he chose for their skills in divination.  He told them of visions…prophecies that had been foretold to him.  He said they must be ever vigilant, lest these prophecies come to pass, and their flock face doom from any number of enemies.  The church must bear witness, he said, and offer aid wherever it was needed.  Vigilance must never waver.  The Eye must never blink.

Sepoto’s premonitions were not without merit.  When sixty and six days had passed since his meeting with Ahazu, he felt the power of the demon lord reach for him.  He had long since removed the foul tooth of the Seizer from his mouth, and hidden it away until such time as he could find a way to destroy it.  Still, the Seizer’s pull was strong, almost overwhelming.  Yet, as Iggwilv had foretold, something had changed about him, and Savras Himself had taken special notice of this particular servant.  Ahazu was to be denied his prize, and Sepoto learned in time that none of his companions were ever claimed by the Seizer either.  

Over the course of the next several years, the vacancy left by Shami-Amourae vexed and enraged Ahazu.  Finally, the demon lord broke free from his self-imposed prison in a fit of rage that released all of the other prisoners from the Wells of Darkness.  The sudden return to the multiverse of so many powerful entities took the ranks of the Divine and Infernal by surprise, and in time, Sepoto and his Eyes were called upon again and again to deal with the escaped menaces.  The remainder of the goliath’s life was full and eventful, and though he redeemed any missteps or wrongdoings he may have committed hundreds of times over, he never truly forgave himself…
_______________________________________________________________

With the dispersing of his herd, Tower Cleaver was at loose ends, with no one to look after or protect.  In his many travels with his friends, he had slain a god, destroyed the first among death knights, and dealt the killing blow to the Prince of Demons.  He had handed out more violent death than he could keep track of, and along the way, even managed to visit the celestial realms, a place of beauty beyond his wildest imaginings.  He had made a promise to himself that if he ever managed to escape the Abyss alive, he would never return, and his one driving goal after Demogorgon’s defeat was to flee as far from its grasp as possible.  

He saw Mandi once more when he journeyed to Tashluta to claim his share of the wealth gathered from the Temple of the Celestial Winds.  From there, he traveled briefly with Octurus, as the pair sailed back to the Isle of Dread and Farshore.  Once there, Cleaver immediately sought out Tavey Nesk and made the boy a one-time offer:  come with him and he would promise to act as mentor to the lad.  He made only two promises:  they would see things the boy had never dreamed of, and they would never return to Farshore.  Tavey eagerly accepted, bade his foster parents a tear-filled but joyful goodbye, and stepped aboard the Blue Nixie without a backwards glance.

From the Isle of Dread, Cleaver and Tavey set sail for Waterdeep.  The minotaur knew the great metropolis was a place where almost anything could be found, and once there, he found exactly what he was looking for:  passage aboard a Spelljamming ship called the Enterprise.  And so it came to pass that Tower Cleaver departed the plane he had called home his entire life for the last time.  But there were new planes of existence to explore, and as he’d promised, new wonders to behold.  Years passed, and he and Tavey became well-known interplanar adventurers, the stuff of legends.  Yet they never remained in one place for long, just time enough to book passage to their next destination.  Though Cleaver had long since abandoned the worship of Shaundekal, he had become a living epitome of the deity.  However, even that live-for-the-moment lifestyle eventually became tiresome, and with the wealth, knowledge and physical power he and Tavey had amassed over the years, he thought that perhaps they could finally stop running.

During their travels, the duo had discovered a small, barren demi-plane, home to an ancient temple to a long-forgotten god.  There, they found an artifact, an item of such power that it could either remove them from their reality forever, or unmake them completely and thus rewrite history as if they had never been.  Cleaver chose the former.  Their final destination was a material plane as different from Toril as smell was to color.  There, in a great city with skyscraping buildings of glass and metal, Tower Cleaver and Tavey found a home at last.  There were others like them, who dwelt among the common folk as both heroes and villains.  In time, the dynamic duo took their own place among the pantheon of so-called “super heroes…”


----------



## JollyDoc

Marius awoke to a nightmarish sight.  He stood before a huge horned throne, decorated with demonic skulls and raised on a three-tiered dais.  The figure that sat in the grotesque chair was darkly handsome, an ebon-skinned man nearly nine feet tall.  His slightly pointed ears, yellow fangs, and six-fingered hands marked him clearly as the Demon Lord Graz’zt.
“Master…,” Marius croaked as he awkwardly prostrated himself.  His body felt strange.  It was then that he realized that he was again human, in his original body.  He looked up with a mixture of confusion and gratitude.
“Consider it a token of my appreciation,”  purred the Dark Prince.  An almost genuine smile played around Graz’zt’s mouth.  “You and your companions have accomplished that which countless demon lords could not.  You have defeated the filthy beast Demogorgon, and you have saved your own world in the process…at least for now.”
“Unfortunately, you weren’t around to see the end.  No matter. Charon and I already had an understanding regarding your soul.  That fool Ahazu has already tried to interfere with our bargain, but I have dealt with that problem for you.  Yet another reward for my loyal servant.”  
Marius nodded his thanks.  This time true relief overcame the warmage.  He would have gone mad in the Wells of Darkness.  At least his bondage to the Dark Prince had its rewards.
“It does, indeed,” mused Graz’zt, obviously reading Marius’s surface thoughts.  “Tyralandi did well in bringing you to me.  She will be suitably rewarded for her service.”

Marius reflected back to the day he and Mandi were struck down by Yuan-Ti assassins in Scuttlecove.  He had seen the horrors that awaited him after death.  Various demons had already been bidding on his soul, and an aspect of Demogorgon himself was poised to pluck the warmage’s helpless larval form for its own… when he was suddenly pulled back by Daelric’s spell.  The demons cursed him and tore at his soul-stuff, ripping and shredding Marius’s very essence.  Then he was back in the middle of the fight, and this time the warmage fought for his very soul, for if he were killed again, death would be the least of his worries. 

He remembered  Porphyry House…
Tyralandi slunk cat-like towards him, letting one of her hands casually caress his face as she moved around him. She wove her fingers into his fiery red hair and then leaned down so that her lips softly brushed his ear.
“I smell death upon you,” she whispered so that only he could hear. “I know that you are marked. Should your soul pass beyond this world as it is, it shall not be as a petitioner. No, you are meant for special things. You have drawn unwanted attention to yourself in your short, violent life, and the cost to you in the hereafter will be eternal. You have no patron to claim you from those who would profit from a soul such as yours. No one to protect you, and now you have the ire of the Prince of Demons as well. I will take what you have offered, and I shall offer you a gift in return. My Prince is powerful as well. He could use the services of one such as you, and in turn, He would guarantee your safe passage in the beyond. Think on my words long, mage.” She then plucked several hairs from his head and returned to her seat.

After abandoning his friends, he again visited Tyralandi for instruction.  His first order of business was to prove his loyalty by eliminating the remnants of the Seventh Coil and the Protectorate in Scuttlecove.  Lethally effective in his missions, Marius was then directed to the Court of Red Shroud on the Abyssal plane of Pazunia, to await his former companions and rejoin the fight against Demogorgon.

Graz’zt again addressed Marius’s thoughts, interrupting his reverie.
 “As you can see,” the demon prince said, “ I keep my promises to those who are faithful to me.  I have provided your soul safe passage.  I have restored your original body.  I have saved you from the clutches of the Seizer.  Now it is time to honor your end of the bargain…”
“Your companions killed a certain general of mine by the name of Lillianth.  I have decided that you will assume her command,”  said the Dark Prince, matter-of-factly.  “You will report to my son, Athux immediately for your commission and instruction.”
Marius was stunned.
“You are a warmage of epic skills; you have faced everything the Abyss has thrown at you, and yet you survive.  Your flames will not aid me much against the Hell-spawned devils in the Blood War, but then, the Hells don’t concern me much anyway.  No, your skills will best be used against the…”  Graz’zt hesitated for a moment and then spat,  “new Prince of Demons.”
The Dark Prince continued passionately, “Orcus claimed the black crown of Demogorgon for himself.  We must strike while he is still weak.  Orcus was very nearly killed by Demogorgon.  Both his armies and those of Demogorgon are decimated.  Lemoriax lies in ruins, and Obox-Ob is still loose in Gaping Maw.  We march in six days!”
“Yes, my Master,”  said Marius R’alan, Flame of Graz’zt, General of the Argent Horde.  He bowed again, then left the throne room to meet his fate.
________________________________________________________________

Watching the swirling chaos that encompassed the many layers of the Abyss, Daelric saw it through the eyes of a new emotion:  confidence.  Something had fundamentally changed within him when he had stared into the eyes of Demogorgon, thinking he would breath his last that day.  He had finally conquered his fear.  

After collecting his share of the gold, and trying fruitlessly to convince Tower Cleaver to travel with him, the young priest set out on what he knew to be the true journey of his life:  to find his real master.  He was no fool, and he knew that his strength lay in recruiting other, powerful beings to do his dirty work, with promises of even greater power and glory, or magical coercion when all else failed.  He also knew that he would not hesitate to kill any one of them if they stood in the way of his quest.  When his journey had first begun, long ago when he had journeyed with Mandi into the damnable swamps of the Isle of Dread, his own power had felt like flying across the ocean, or a stiff wind at his back, but as the road he traveled became darker and ever more morally convoluted, that feeling had faded, until one day he awoke to his morning prayers, only to find that Shaundekal no longer answered.  Yet still the divine power responded to his summons, and the insane wander lust that had first brought him to the Abyss still gripped him and drove him.  There was still something that he must do; he felt it in his soul.  Someone out there that called to him…

He was shaken from his reverie by the sounds of combat from nearby as his latest group of minions fought for their lives yet again.  Calling his favorite spell to his lips, one that would turn the blood of his enemies to thin water, he strode into the fray, the hum of his protective wards surrounding him.  He smiled to himself.  Sepoto and Tower Cleaver would not believe their eyes if they could only see him now.  Perhaps he was finally losing his sanity.  Perhaps it was only death and the lure of the Void that called to him…


----------



## JollyDoc

“With you, I am well pleased, my son,” Gwynharwyf said as Octurus knelt before her.  “Yet I sense in you something is…missing.”
“Too long have I wallowed in the filth of the Abyss, my Lady,” the demon hunter replied, eyes still downcast.  “I would cleanse its taint from both body and soul.”
“I think you have more than redeemed yourself,” the Whirling Fury smirked.  “Would that it could have been my own blades that tasted Demogorgon’s blood.”  She sighed deeply.  “But at least you, my Chosen, stood in my stead.  If you so choose, I can transform the flesh you feel is too sullied.  I could make you into my image, and then you might join the Court of Stars in full as my consort.”
Octurus looked up, smiling briefly.
“I am honored, my Lady, but I feel the blood of my ancestors calling me home.  I ask only that you send me there, so that I might further your works among my kinsmen.”

And Gwynharwyf did send him home.  With Tower Cleaver, he made the voyage back to the Isle of Dread and Farshore.  There, he bade a final goodbye to his friend, and set out for the high plateau.  His reputation preceded him.  Visions and dreams had come to the holy men of the Maztican tribes.  His coming had been foretold.  It was not long before supplicants came to him, Maztican, phanaton and mongrel men, all seeking to learn the ways of the Whirling Fury.  Octurus founded a church among the pilgrims, though there was no physical temple.  No, his church was made of flesh, blood, bone, sinew and steel.  He forged his minions from iron, and as they emerged, the ranks of totemic demon slayers grew and grew, and their reputation was known…and feared…even beyond the shores of their island.  

Just as his warriors came into their own, the number of demon sightings on the island abruptly began to increase.  At first, Octurus though this a lucky happenstance, providing excellent training opportunities for his soldiers, but then he began hearing rumors of strange lights atop the central plateau, and vague whisperings of Thanaclan being inhabited once again.  Octurus hand-picked his finest warriors and set out once more for the City of Broken Idols…
_______________________________________________________________


The hound archon circled the arena floor, a smirk upon his face.  There was no way the young upstart would defeat him in this sparring match.  His opponent, appearing as a tall green-skinned elf with gossamer wings, stared back across the dueling ring, both hands wrapped around the hilt of a blunted greatsword.  Fresh trumpet archons always need to be taught lessons about their betters.

The dog-faced angel raised his blade, a twin to the weapon borne by the trumpet archon, and rushed towards his opponent in a wild charge.  Calmly, almost effortlessly, the trumpet archon sidestepped the oncoming adversary, and with a quick riposte smacked him between the shoulders with the flat of his blade.  The hound archon yelped, and with a snarl turned his head back towards his foe, noting no sign of smug self-congratulation on the trumpet archon’s face.  No, the green-skinned angel wore the same stony and stoic countenance he had since the duel challenge had been presented.

Several angelic onlookers hooted and hollered with the successful blow to the hound archon, especially the few trumpet archons witness to the event.  The prospect that one of the youngest members of their Choir could defeat a veteran of the Hound Archon Legions was a reason to cheer, and do so loudly.  This whelp had not even received his trumpet, let alone been granted the greater powers earned with service to the Lords of the Seven Mounting Heavens of Celestia.

The hound archon wheeled about, again dashing forward at his foe.  This time, when the canine angel reached striking distance, the trumpet archon feinted right, but quickly spun low slashing his blade horizontally at his opponent’s legs. The impact of the weapon, coupled with his reckless advance, caused the hound archon to lose his balance and fall forward onto his stomach, and as he did so his weapon flew from his grasp, clattering on the stone floor about eight feet in front of him.  Before his opponent could regain his senses, the trumpet archon flew forward and landed such that he was straddling his prostrate foe.  Laying the tip of his blade on the back of the hound archon’s neck, the trumpet archon intoned his first word since being challenged.  

“Yield.”

For a split-second, pride consumed the prone angel, and his muscles tensed as though he were about to struggle.  Quickly realizing the helplessness of his position, the hound archon tapped his hand three times on the ground, the understood sign of submission.  Cheers, even louder than before, erupted from the trumpet archons in attendance.

The hound archon rolled over onto his back, a half-grin on his face.  “Well done, lad.  A victory well-earned.”  The trumpet archon extended a hand to help the other angel to his feet, but just before their hands met, a large shadow fell over them.  Based on the look of fear and revulsion on the hound archon’s face, the trumpet archon guessed whose presence they were ‘graced’ with.

An almost feral, stereophonic baritone voice intoned, “Ascalon of the Choir of the Trumpet, your presence is demanded by Barachiel at his palace.”  The trumpet archon’s eyes grew wide and he turned to meet this new harbinger, and his initial suspicions were proved correct:  Gorgant the Two-Faced, Guardian of Lunia, was addressing him.

Gorgant was a massive beast, with twin baboon heads fused at the back of each skull.  His long tentacular arms ended in huge pincers, but it was the constant weeping of blood from his eyes that Ascalon had always found to be most disconcerting, besides the fact that such a hideous creature was a protector of Celestia.  Years ago, Gorgant arrived in Lunia, Celestia’s lowest layer and its most certain battleground should an invasion occur.  Claiming to be the servant of the deity of Justice from one of the many Prime Material worlds, Gorgant was confused by the hostility directed towards him.  Likewise, he was confused when Celestia was not actually comprised solely of structures made of ivory, with nothing but beautiful multi-colored twinkling lights in the sky, and choirs of angels running around constantly dancing, playing, and fellating each other.

It was determined by the Greater Powers as well as the Hebdomad, the ruling seven archons, that this once-evil creature had its mind and memories toyed with by some powerful magic, and that it actually ‘remembered’ what it was professing.  Instead of destroying the poor beast, the Lords of Good and Law saw fit to make him one of Lunia’s frontline defenders.  

By doing such, he would be granted the opportunity of life and redemption from the evils of his past, he would provide a more than adequate guardian against fiendish incursions, and should an invasion occur he would likely be among the first to give his life (thus ending whatever nuisance he may represent).  As time wore on, however, Gorgant’s animalistic nature and almost single-minded approach (despite actually having two brains) made him a beloved pet of Barachiel the Messenger, the Lord of Lunia and General of the Trumpet Archons.  Barachiel came to trust Gorgant with missions of import to himself and the Celestial Choir.

Some even whispered that Gorgant was actually the aspect of Demogorgon, a Prince of Demons long since destroyed by a host of enemy demon princes and mortal adventurers. 

Ascalon looked up at the Agent of the Messenger.  “When does my Lord wish to meet with me?”  Gorgant crouched low, so that his blood-soaked eyes were only a few feet from the trumpet archon’s face.  “When have you ever known Barachiel to send me when the meeting was not urgent.  Come with me NOW!!!”  Gorgant started breathing harder, and Ascalon knew that it was best to just nod and agree to follow the beast before one of those pincers ‘accidentally’ decapitated him…whoever stuck the rod into Gorgant’s brains and swirled them around didn’t do anything to cure him of his temper.

As Ascalon followed Gorgant out of the marble and ivory arena structure, he was given farewell by proud backslapping from his fellow trumpet archons and, surprisingly, approving nods from senior hound archon War Masters in attendance.  Gorgant was almost irritated that they had to make the trek to Barachiel’s palace by foot, but Ascalon had not yet been granted the ability to bend space through the Astral Plane.  As expected, as the pair walked through the Celestial streets, all eyes were on  Gorgant, all waiting to see if he would do something else ‘noteworthy’.  No one even noticed the lesser trumpet archon, and that suited Ascalon just fine.
_______________________________________________________________

And what of Ozymandia, you ask, dear reader?  Well, that…that is a tale for another time, and another teller…


----------



## Burningspear

very nice open endings of a sort , all of them.


----------



## Quartz

Bravo!

Thank you ever so much for sharing your adventures with us.


----------



## Quartz

I've just checked back and it seems that Sepoto is the only original to survive, or was Marius there as well?


----------



## carborundum

Nice roundup of the loose ends, and the lives of the various characters. A fitting end to a great story hour. Thanks for all the work you've put into it, week after week!


----------



## JollyDoc

Quartz said:
			
		

> I've just checked back and it seems that Sepoto is the only original to survive, or was Marius there as well?




Marius was there as well, but technically, WarEagle Mage played two characters (the druid), so Sepoto was the only character that was there from start to finish!  Bravo!!!


----------



## Abciximab

Congratulations to all on a the completion of another AP. Thanks to all (writers and players) for another amazing story hour. I enjoy the behind the scenes look that having the players posting on the board provides.


----------



## LordVyreth

I assume



> Hours of research on the part of Mandi and Marius



 in the first post was a typo?  You meant Daelric, maybe?

Good ending, though I still expect more about our reincarnating friend and associated others.  It's a shame we didn't get TC's offer in character.  "Come.  We see pretty sights.  Kill new things.  Moo."  Not to mention what Batman later thought of him...

Out of curiosity, is there a plan for all the Entropy/Joachim/Mandi shennanigans?  Some final adventure or epic resolution or something?  Or will they just hang around as this setting's Elminster types?


----------



## JollyDoc

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> I assume
> 
> in the first post was a typo?  You meant Daelric, maybe?
> 
> Good ending, though I still expect more about our reincarnating friend and associated others.  It's a shame we didn't get TC's offer in character.  "Come.  We see pretty sights.  Kill new things.  Moo."  Not to mention what Batman later thought of him...
> 
> Out of curiosity, is there a plan for all the Entropy/Joachim/Mandi shennanigans?  Some final adventure or epic resolution or something?  Or will they just hang around as this setting's Elminster types?





Yes...typo...oops.  Actually, in game, Octurus succeeded in reincarnating Marius as a halfling, but WarEagle Mage had other ideas later on, so that edit slipped through.

As far as Nulonga goes...Mandi's update should assuage your curiosity.  

Entropy/Joachim?  Well, with 4th ed's planned gutting of FR, that would be a perfect aftermath for Entropy opening her portals to the Far Realms.


----------



## Vargo

Not a bump, just a wee little nudge curious about what happened with Mandi...  And of course I'm curious about our little Alienist who seemed to have some kind of interest in all this.


----------



## Joachim

I am working on Mandi's epilogue, and should have it up soon...hopefully this weekend, but maybe sometime into next week.


----------



## Quartz

I don't suppose you could post the final character sheets?


----------



## gfunk

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Entropy/Joachim?  Well, with 4th ed's planned gutting of FR, that would be a perfect aftermath for Entropy opening her portals to the Far Realms.




That would be awesome . . . Entropy opens up a portal to the Far Realms and turns FR into a MMORPG.


----------



## JollyDoc

gfunk said:
			
		

> That would be awesome . . . Entropy opens up a portal to the Far Realms and turns FR into a MMORPG.




The very definition of alien insanity...


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Or these far realms could actually be something else entirely... (like a 1st Edition prime material plane) 

JollyDoc, if you do bring the Far Realm down on your campaign world and start over in 4e, please write some sort of final epilogue for that one as well. I bet we would all love to know what becomes of the Entropy, Joachim, Havok and co.   


Since I read the modules, I won't comment on Mandi's future, but based on the comments here and the possibilities from the "concluding the adventure" section from Dungeon 150, I believe I know where she will be going. If she had any morals, there might be some conflict, but we don't have to worry about that one with her.


----------



## Vargo

I think JD and crew have already stated their opinion on 4e, and that they won't be going to it.  The bit about turning the far realms into a MMO was a piece of snark that reflected their view of the system.


----------



## JollyDoc

And what of Ozymandia, you ask, dear reader? Well, that…that is a tale for another time, and another teller…


Ummm....Mandi...that's your cue...before this thread drops off the boards...


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> Ummm....Mandi...that's your cue...before this thread drops off the boards...



Yeah, fat chance of that happening.    




			
				JollyDoc said:
			
		

> And what of Ozymandia, you ask, dear reader? Well, that…that is a tale for another time, and another teller…



I think you have built up enough suspense, Joachim.


----------



## carborundum

Yeah ... you go, girl!


----------



## Joachim

Sorry...the past month has been far more active than I had anticipated, but it actually appears to be slowing down a bit.  I am going to make  a concerted effort to get this done by our gametime this weekend.


----------



## JollyDoc

Joachim said:
			
		

> Sorry...the past month has been far more active than I had anticipated, but it actually appears to be slowing down a bit.  I am going to make  a concerted effort to get this done by our gametime this weekend.





And for those of you keeping score, we will beginning our Pathfinder Rise of the Runelords campaign weekend after next, at which point a new SH will begin!


----------



## Hammerhead

How's the game that TC is running?


----------



## Abciximab

JollyDoc said:
			
		

> And for those of you keeping score, we will beginning our Pathfinder Rise of the Runelords campaign weekend after next, *at which point a new SH will begin*!




The words I've been waiting to hear! Uh, Waiting to read, in this case. Can't wait to see how the new campaign goes and eager to see the character choices.


----------



## JollyDoc

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> How's the game that TC is running?





It's fun!  We're about to wrap it up this coming weekend.  I'm loving playing a saint, especially in an undead heavy adventure.  We've been using the new pathfinder rules, and they're going well so far.  One rule I'm incorporating into Rise of the Runelords is the 3 buff option mentioned in the Alpha 2 rules...ie, no character may have more than three spell/spell like abilities active at one time, unless they have a duration of rounds/level.  Also, Dave (TC) had us choose three books we could use besides SRD.  I'm going to do that as well.  As Joachim pointed out, the monstrosity that was Mandi was created using close to 20 books!!  Hopefully these rule changes will make things more interesting and white-knuckle around the table.


----------



## JollyDoc

Abciximab said:
			
		

> The words I've been waiting to hear! Uh, Waiting to read, in this case. Can't wait to see how the new campaign goes and eager to see the character choices.




I  think you'll be pleasantly surprised.  The choices so far are a bit different from the norm.


----------



## Joachim

Finally, I have had a couple hours to sit down and write Mandi's denouement.  I hope you guys like it.


----------



## Joachim

*MONSTER*

Lavinia Vanderboren stared out across Farshore Bay, a wistful smile across her face.  All of her hard work was starting to pay dividends.  Using the funds gifted to her by Mandi, the Vanderboren scion had managed to construct, equip, and recruit a merchant navy almost unheard of in Tashluta and the great reaches of Chult.  Only the greatest merchant houses of Sembia and Calimshan could rival her fleet, and none of them had access to the previously unseen exports of the Isle of Dread.  This was her first trip back to the Isle since this endeavor had started, and it was her plan to let Meravanchi know that his control, at least real control, over the colony was at an end.

As the Vanderboren maiden continued daydreaming about her appointment with the current Farshore mayor, she began to note strange wave patterns in the bay.  Cocking an eyebrow, Lavinia walked to the edge of the pier she had been standing on watching the trail of bubbles that seemed to be approaching closer to the docks.  Suddenly, a great gout of water erupted, and a vessel emerged from the foamy brine.  Lavinia instantly recognized the caravel’s heraldry, and her smile grew broader as her heart jumped.

The Sea Wyvern had returned to Farshore.

Lavinia peered across the deck of her legion’s flagship, hoping to catch a glimpse of her old retainers.  The noblewoman cocked an eyebrow when she noted only the presence of her benefactor, the elven wizardess.  Nevertheless, Lavinia waved vigorously at her old friend.

Slowly, the Wyvern approached the docks, anchoring about fifty feet off of the pier that Lavinia was perched upon.  Mandi returned her former employer’s greeting casually, almost flippantly.  Using one her most common spells, Mandi floated from the helm and flew towards the pier.  Lavinia noted the ever-present look of cold determination on the elf’s face, but also observed something different today…sadness, maybe?

Mandi landed next to Lavinia, and when the noblewoman moved closer to embrace her old friend the elf held up her hands in protest, shaking her head no.  “Not today, Lavinia.  This is not a friendly visit.”

Confused at the rebuff, Lavinia queried, “What are you talking about?  I have not seen you for months!  Many of your other comrades have been by to give their farewells, but I have not heard from you since you came to visit me before your battle with Demogorgon.  Besides how could a visit between you and I not be friendly?”

“Simply,” Mandi responded, “as I am not here for sightseeing.  I come to this place today to bear witness to the people of Farshore that they are now a part of my mistress’ Empire of Dread.  You see, milady, I have pledged my allegiance to Iggwilv, and it is her wishes to rebuild her imperial nation starting with this island.”

Lavinia stared, mouth open, trying to comprehend Mandi’s quick pronouncement.  “Wha…wha…what?!  How could you have thrown your lot in with that evil witch?  How could you betray all that we have worked for in establishing this community?  How…”

With a wave of her hand, Mandi interrupted the noblewoman’s angry questions.  “This is simple Lavinia.  As I have told you before, Iggwilv is the most powerful mortal in all of the multiverse.  Where better for one such as myself to learn but at the foot of the mistress.  Mind you, I have no interest in imperial domination as Iggwilv does, but if I am to be one of her instruments in this endeavor, so be it.

“You see, after I visited you in Tashluta, I traveled across the planes back to her home on the Gray Wastes.  Due to her efforts in helping us defeat Demogorgon and foil his plot each of we Legionnaires owed the ‘witch’ a favor.  I had decided that if I could use that as an opportunity to better myself, all the better.  I offered myself to be her apprentice, and she somewhat gladly accepted, even going so far as to name me her chief apprentice and the harbinger of her coming.

“She then informed me of her plans for this island.  Using the power of Demogorgon’s essence, which she captured after our fight with him, she has raised Thanaclan from the depths and made that the capitol and headquarters from which her armies of demons shall flow.  There is no community on this island equipped to fight such a force, and I am here now to accept Farshore’s unconditional surrender.

“This place, once under my mistress’ control, will serve as her chief naval port.  Now, of course, some of the inhabitants here who could prove to be troublesome in the future will not survive this takeover.  However, the remainder, including the mongrelman labor force, will be allowed to live.”

Lavinia struggled to absorb all of the information just presented to her.  “What of the money you gave me to start trade with this island?  Was that all just for nothing now?  How can you be a part of this evil?”

The elf slowly nodded.  “Yes, Lavinia, that was a sticking point with me.  Originally, you were to be among the first to be murdered because of your rebellious nature and your resourcefulness…Iggwillv believed that you would be amongst those to resist her ascension.  However, after much coaxing on my part, Iggwilv was convinced that you may actually be more useful to her alive.

“At my request, Iggwilv is willing to offer you exclusive rights to trade back and forth with the Empire of Dread.  Any vessels not flying your standard, or the standard of my lady, will be sunk on sight.  You should appreciate that this opportunity will afford you a chance at great wealth for you and your family.  This deal, as is Iggwilv’s wont, is going to be fairly one-sided of course, but you will never have to worry about your financial position ever again.”

Lavinia snarled.  “How magnanimous of you and your ‘mistress’.  What if I refuse this offer?  Or what if I later turn on her great empire?”

With a sigh, Mandi answered coolly, “Then Iggwilv will give me the order to find you, and have you exterminated.”  Lavinia waited to hear Mandi say, ‘an order which I would refuse.’

Those words never came.

“What have you turned into, Mandi?  What kind of anger and hate has made so cold…such a monster?”

Mandi flinched at the words.  It was apparent to Lavinia that she had been stung, and not because she disagreed but rather because the wizardess knew it to be true.  Mandi slowly began to walk away from the noblewoman.  With her back turned, she told the lady, “You should hope to never see me again.  Once this initial unpleasantness has ended, Iggwilv will expect your caravels to begin carrying good to and from this island.  This is farewell…I have a meeting with a certain Meravanchi to attend, after which you will not want to be here.”

The wizardess’ skin began to turn red, and her body grew in size sprouting wings, claws, horns, and a tail.  As Lavinia watched as the now-pit fiend flew toward the town hall.  Noting the finality in the elf’s voice, Lavinia knew that Iggwilv’s horrors were about to be witnessed first-hand by her old political rival.

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

Mandi saw to it that Meravanchi did not die slowly.  The wizardess was surprised, however, when she realized that she was not enjoying the task at hand.  She had long thought that holding gobs of the bastard’s viscera in her claws would be gratifying, or that his gurgling pleas for mercy (and later, death) would warm her spirits.  This was the man chiefly responsible for her sorrow, but she was taking no joy from her work, no joy from watching the man feebly try to keep his guts inside his body, no joy from his cowardly screams.

Finally, when she had had enough, Mandi ended her adversary’s life by her most ‘conventional’ means, a green disintegration ray.  The elf had believed that she would expel some of her inner demons with the killing, but all she could concentrate on were Lavinia’s last words to her.  

‘Yes, Lavinia…I am a monster.  You ask how I could do this, and you have your answer there…this is what monsters do.’

Using the telepathic bond she had established with Iggwilv’s general, the wizardess contacted the cambion force waiting back at Thanaclan.  Her order was simple.

“Begin the invasion of Farshore.”

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

Mandi entered Iggwilv’s study in the palace of Thanaclan.  There, the mighty witch was busy poring over maps and intelligence reports with her arcanoloth apprentices, as well as one newcomer, one that Mandi had to force herself from not disintegrating…again.  

Nulonga, formerly of Demogorgon’s service, had humbly come before Iggwilv after his former master had been destroyed.  Pledging his allegiance to her, Iggwilv decided not to destroy him as she found his derangement entertaining, specifically his fetish for self-multilation.  He had become a loyal, if somewhat sniveling, apprentice to the witch, gaining a rank just behind Mandi herself.

The arcanoloths had not been so lucky.  Remembering their slights against her during the first encounter, Mandi destroyed two of them during her first week as Iggwilv’s apprentice.  Periodically, she would destroy another just to remind them who had their mistress’ favor.  Iggwilv found the murders to be somewhat humorous, just so long as things didn’t get ‘out of hand’.

Without acknowledging Mandi’s entry or raising her eyes, Iggwilv asked, “So…what news of Farshore?”

“It is done, milady.  Farshore is under your banner now.  They were caught totally surprised, and could not put up a resistance.  Minimal human casualties to report, outside of those you had targeted.” 

The witch nodded her head.  “Excellent.  What of your pet, that Vanderboren girl?”

“She will capitulate to our terms.  She knows what the penalty for noncompliance will be, and she would rather be alive and wealthy than dead.”

Again, Iggwilv nodded her head.  “Good.  You know, Mandi, I have no need for trade with the mainland.  I am letting the girl live solely because of your pleas for her life.  If she fails me, or if she causes me trouble, you will answer for her transgressions.  I hope that she’s worth it.”

“I understand.”

Iggwilv looked up to meet Mandi’s gaze.  “Now join us as we plan our next moves.  I have a mind to send you as an emissary to Zhentil Keep.  The new High Executioner Amal may be receptive to an alliance…”

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

Mandi stared back at her student, a young halfling, judging his response to the story of her many conquests with Lavinia’s Legion and their triumph over the Prince of Demons.  As with all elves, the years had been kind to the wizardess, but after over 200 years of life her hair was starting to gray, and slight wrinkles were beginning to be apparent.

“And so it was.  I served as Iggwilv’s apprentice for over fifty years.  During the times of her greatest conquests I was her herald of doom.  Where I visited, nations quaked, because they knew that Death followed shortly behind me.  Once Iggwilv’s lust for expansion had been slaked, the Empire of Dread had become the single most feared nation on the face of Faerun.

“Then, everything changed.  A great plague, the feared Spell Plague, struck the world, killing the most powerful entities and castrating even the most dominant of realms.  In the blink of an eye, thousands of years of history, civilization, and development had been set asunder.  The wilds between each city became infested with hordes of creatures, making kingdoms incapable of functioning.  Each city or community receded unto itself, acting as a ‘point of light’, for lack of better words, in the darkness.  Iggwilv’s empire was likewise afflicted.  Even with her countless armies herself, she was incapable of stopping this coming tide.

“Deities perished, some inexplicably, to be replaced by inferior beings wearing the mantle of ‘gods’.  Even the Weave, so well-established and elegant, was torn apart.  Magic would never be the same again, and it was with this latest development that I chose to leave, lest I be afflicted by the great Plague’s effects.  To put it mildly, the Faerun that I knew and had been a part of for so long had been destroyed and what it had been replaced with was, to me, dull and lifeless.

“So using Iggwilv’s expansive library of the many alternate Prime Material Planes, I located this place.  With her consent, I left Faerun forever, leaving it to the few who wished to remain.  My Legionnaire comrades were long dead at this point, having met their end on the business end of a monster’s claws or through the depredations of old age, but if they had been alive I would have gladly brought them with me.

“In my studies I recognized that this world was relatively young, but vibrant and seated with vast yet untapped potential.  Riding aboard the Sea Wyvern, I plowed through the many planes to get here.  Quietly, and after a several years of effort, I became the head of the School of Shaping here at our little Acadamae with no one having any clues as to who I am or what I am truly capable of.  

“And now, here you are, offering yourself to be my apprentice.  I figured it was only polite if you were going to do that then you should at least know my story.  With this full disclosure, are you certain that you are willing to learn from me?”

The halfling thought silently for a moment.  After several seconds, he nodded his head.

Mandi smiled.  “Excellent.  Now, you are dismissed.”  The halfling stood and turned towards the door, at which point Mandi spoke again, “Now…I don’t have to tell you what happens to you if you breathe one word of any of this to another soul, do I?”  The halfling looked back, gulped, and nodded his head before scurrying back to class.

The wizardess chuckled, and turned in her chair towards the windows.  Even if he did tell anyone they wouldn't believe that their dottering old teacher had once slain a Prince of Demons.  

Looking at the trees in the Acadamae groves, she noted that the leaves were beginning to turn color.  

‘My,’ she thought, ‘Korvosa certainly is beautiful this time of year.’


----------



## Zurai

Joachim said:
			
		

> ‘My,’ she thought, ‘Korvosa certainly is beautiful this time of year.’




Oh, very nice. It'd be even nicer if you were going into Curse of the Crimson Throne next, but still very nice indeed. That should make things interesting.


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## carborundum

Nice finish Joachim!
My automatic update emails seem to have stopped again, so I missed it first ... oh, it's only been a few hours.

Can't wait for the Runelords


----------



## gfunk

Rich, that epilogue was truly a delight to read.  The precedent for heroines turning bad at the end of campaigns is certainly present (wink, wink) but the irony of Mandi's ultimate decision was delicious.  Still she stayed honorable (at least to Lavinia) which was a nice touch.

The best part of your epilogue, however, has got to be the end.  The whole thing is just one awesome double entendre that skirts the NDA so well that I had to read it again.  Indeed Faerun was torn asunder by the opening of the Far Realms and will never be the same . . . *sigh*

I'm sure that Mandi's "alternate" Prime will provide (I hope) years of additional fun and adventure.

Cheers!


----------



## JollyDoc

Very nicely done, Rich!  I'm humbly impressed.  To the readers, I was not privy to the details of Mandi's epilogue, so it was much a surprise and delight to me as to you.   With players and imaginations like these, how can the future exploits of our group fail to entertain with shock and awe??

Until next time, thank you one and all for your patronage.  If not for all of you, these little labors of love would not be worth it.  

JD...out...


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## Joachim

Thanks, guys!  I have had the outline for that decided for several weeks now, but between my daughter's myriad dance recitals/competitions, trips to the Great Northwest, and helping my wife take care of our 4-month old I have just not had the few hours to string together to get it written.  The amazing thing is that this is just a minor epilogue that I put together...JD does this (and more) every single week...talk about some writer's stamina!



			
				gfunk said:
			
		

> The best part of your epilogue, however, has got to be the end.  The whole thing is just one awesome double entendre that skirts the NDA so well that I had to read it again.




I will neither confirm nor deny anything you have said here.




*wink*


----------



## LordVyreth

So I assume the other land she shifted to was the Pathfinder setting, and thus serving as a link from the 3.5 campaigns to the Pathfinder ones?  And while you can't get into details for NDA reasons, the Spellplague and 100 year time jump, used by Wizards to introduce the 4th Edition in the Forgotten Realms, was in your version Entropy finally finishing her Far Realms plan?  If so, neat, but I'm wondering if we'll ever get a further epilogue to Entropy herself?  I'm curious to know what, if anything, ended up finally gushed the evil little nutbar.  And really, way to be useless at stopping this, Joachim.  Err, the character, not the poster, you know what I mean.


----------



## Joachim

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> I'm curious to know what, if anything, ended up finally gushed the evil little nutbar.  And really, way to be useless at stopping this, Joachim.  Err, the character, not the poster, you know what I mean.




Joachim (the character) would be long dead of old age by the time this stuff happened, but he had been named Bene Elim by Tyr so he's probably too busy working his way up the Celestial ladder.

As far as Entropy goes, she was transformed into the new Shami-Amorae, so she's still running around the multiverse, terrorizing as she goes I am sure.  I was not specific as to whether or not Entropy was successfull in opening the Far Realms portal because she obviously was not the only entity interested in reshaping (see: destroying) the Realms.


----------



## JollyDoc

Thought the readers might enjoy a little gift I cooked up for my players to celebrate their Savage Tide Victory.  I had this commissioned by a very talented artist named Kathleen Hardy.  You can see more of her work at www.cafepress.com/glassbutterfly.


----------



## WarEagleMage

Very nice!  I can't wait to see the real thing up close.  While it's appropriate that Daelric is running away from Demo, he's white... and visible.


----------



## cthulhudarren

Thanks again JollyDoc & Co, for the great read. I'm just starting to DM this AP, 2 sessions in. I'm trying to PRY character background from my PCs to work into the plot, but so far it's like pulling teeth.

A couple questions.

1)Specifically, how did Mandi max out her DCs and Spell penetration? I'd like to see exactly how it was done.

2)I'd like to see final char sheets, but by this time I assume it's all gone...


----------



## JollyDoc

cthulhudarren said:


> Thanks again JollyDoc & Co, for the great read. I'm just starting to DM this AP, 2 sessions in. I'm trying to PRY character background from my PCs to work into the plot, but so far it's like pulling teeth.
> 
> A couple questions.
> 
> 1)Specifically, how did Mandi max out her DCs and Spell penetration? I'd like to see exactly how it was done.
> 
> 2)I'd like to see final char sheets, but by this time I assume it's all gone...




I'll let Joachim, Mandi's player respond to 1.  As for 2, not sure.  Any of my players still have their sheets to post?


----------



## Hammerhead

WarEagleMage said:


> Very nice!  I can't wait to see the real thing up close.  While it's appropriate that Daelric is running away from Demo, he's white... and visible.




And he's holding a weapon. Definitely unrealistic.


----------



## Joachim

cthulhudarren said:


> Thanks again JollyDoc & Co, for the great read. I'm just starting to DM this AP, 2 sessions in. I'm trying to PRY character background from my PCs to work into the plot, but so far it's like pulling teeth.
> 
> A couple questions.
> 
> 1)Specifically, how did Mandi max out her DCs and Spell penetration? I'd like to see exactly how it was done.
> 
> 2)I'd like to see final char sheets, but by this time I assume it's all gone...




Here you go...mind you, this was the sheet going into the end and after the fight with Demogorgon she would be level 23.


----------



## Supar

Many years have passed since being a part of this story and it still brings nothing but happy memories. I have just finished re reading it. To those of you who read the work of JD memories like these are priceless if you ask me. To those of you out there looking at this bumped thread of the past. Give it a read


----------



## carborundum

This a was such a great read - I still plunder it regularly for ideas for my own STAP (about to meet Khala)


----------

